#at a point. all you're doing is showing your hand.

[leeechin]

jealous sex with jungwon 🙏🏼

monopolizing ( yang jungwon ) 18+

✧ pairing: bf!jungwon x fem!reader ⌗ warnings: unprotected sex (don't do that), rough sex. spanking, slight degradation, size kink i mean look at his broad shoulders pls, jungwon's kinda mean in this 😕 but you love it, thighriding, he takes one video (consented), reader gets fucked dumb (?), mention of heeseung lol.

a/n: kind of short but i changed the req up with a little plot so i hope this meets ur expectations anon <3 reqs r open for short drabbles and fics don't be shy !! 🫶

word count: ( 1.9k )

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jungwon's really good at doing his part as a loving and attentive boyfriend that goes by your demands. but it's different when it's in bed.. and you guys are aware the members have heard you guys before. they just love to tease the fuck out of jungwon.

he's watching you on the other side of the room, sitting on the floor playing a card game with heeseung, laughing at whatever he was saying, as if it was the funniest thing in the world. jungwon blinks at your pretty face bursting into laughter. he can't help but wish you gave him attention instead, i mean he could also play a card game with you :(

"yo jungwon! you haven't look away from y/n once since she started playing card games with heeseung!" jake points out, clearly seeing jealously seep out of jungwon's face. jungwon clenches his teeth watching you playfully swat heeseung's shoulder after you lose a card game. the no response from jungwon shows it all. "don't tell me he's jealous—!" sunghoon jokes, eyes staring the same direction jungwon's are.

"w-what?! no i'm not—!" jungwon sputters in response, "you're so bad at lying." jay tsks as he passes by the kitchen, grabbing a plate and leaving. jungwon tries distracting himself from continuing to look at you and heeseung, opening random kitchen cabinet doors until he hears your cheerful voice.

"hi wonnie." you mumble, arms wrapping from behind him and nuzzling your face against his neck. jungwon feels his cheeks heat up at your affection infront of all of his fellow bandmates.

"hi baby." he responds turning around and placing a quick peck on your lips, hands placed on both side of your hips.

"look at wonnie all shy and everything!" jake mocks, causing you to let out a scoff and throw a middle finger at him while still embraced in jungwon's arms. "get a room you freaks!" sunghoon adds on, a look of disgust plastered on his face jokingly.

you smirk, moving your hands to grabbing at jungwon's biceps. once again so grateful that the boys have been dragging him out to the gym. "oh we definitely will, trust. matter of fact, right now—!" you exclaim, dragging jungwon's taller frame behind you as you find the door to his room. everybody else in the house making sure to turn up the volume of the tv and blast music.

"is this because she was playing apples to apples with me was it—?" heeseung asks, frowning at the pile of cards with the unfinished game the two of you were playing. "no shit sherlock."

closing the door behind you, a mischievous smile glints on your face, hands roaming around jungwon's chest. "jealousy is such a sexy look on your face." your lips quirking into a smile, staring at your boyfriend as you await a response. jungwon let’s out a low growl, realizing that you made him jealous on purpose. bending you over the dresser by his door, a loud smack! landed on your clothed ass. you already feel wetness seeping out of your cunt at the contact, squealing and pushing back.

"such a naughty girl. you enjoy doing this to me huh?" both hands pulling down your shorts, hissing at the sight of your pink lacy thong. pulling the elastic away and letting it slap against your skin causing you to yelp at the contact. "mmh please won'—! i’ve been bad, i'm sorry!"

"don't think you can get away with this so easily baby. you think heeseung can fuck you the way i do?" he responds with his hands roaming all over your body, slowly removing every article of clothing left on you except for your cute pink panties.

jungwon had no remorse in teasing you, finding it amusing at how quick you can turn into putty with him barely doing anything to you.

your now naked body trembling at jungwon's teasing touches, eager to feel more. "what happens to good girls when they decide they want to be bad huh?" he chuckled at the wetness pooling down your inner thighs with your body still bent over the dresser. "they get punished." you whine, attempting to free yourself from jungwon's tight pinning. he lets out a sound of approval, loosening his grip on your hips, ridding himself off of all his clothes but leaving his boxers on. moving to sit himself against the headboard and patting on his his thighs. "ride my thigh."

scrambling to crawl on the bed. you look up to see your boyfriend immersed at your eagerness. all you could do at that moment was stare dumbly at jungwon. "i— don't know if i can do it wonnie." you frown, your gaze pleading for jungwon to manhandle you and fuck you senseless. "you wanted to play games with me infront of everybody, don't be so shy now pretty."

your thighs on both sides of his, in nothing but your pink lacy panties. you're admiring the sight infront you, a very evident bulge in jungwon's boxers. crossing both of his arms behind his head. "what's the hold up now baby?" he teases, seeing how your hands were on both sides of your panties to pull it down. pulling your laced panties down just enough, jungwon groaned at the sight seeing it stick to your needy cunt, a string of arousal following the removal. "won' please, i need you in me so bad."

"i'll give you what you want after you ride my thigh hm?" jungwon negotiates, fighting the urge to just pull his boxers down and make you bounce on his dick until you forgot your own name. your head nods rapidly, pulling your panties down to your ankles and kicking it off to somewhere in the room. quickly placing yourself between one of jungwon's muscled thighs. seating your heat against it, rubbing slowly, the immediate friction on your clit making you let out a silent scream.

finding your own pace as you ride jungwon's thigh, feeling the ridge of his muscles as you dragged your needy cunt against it, your small whimpers and moans filling the room, becoming music to jungwon's ears. a satisfied smile wreathed his lips when he sees your eyes on him as you fell apart on his thigh, as he's flexing it occasionally to add on more intensity to your clit.

you could feel your orgasm approaching as your hole clenched around nothing. hands pawing at your boyfriend's shoulders. "wonnie please i need to cum! i'm sorry i teased you—please—!" amusement painted all over jungwon's face seeing how you were so submissive and crumbling at him doing nothing but having you ride his thigh.

"show me pretty girl. cum all over my thigh." the wetness of your arousal coating your boyfriend's thighs, granting your request. your hands tighten the grip on jungwon's shoulders, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the knot loosens in your stomach. jungwon's hands move to hold your hips, helping you slow down your movements.

"shit, you are so fucking sexy baby." and he's almost in pain at how long his boner has been held up in his boxers. you now being on your back, tears forming at the corner of your eyes as jungwon grinds his clothed bulge over your exposed needy cunt. you to sit up, attempting reaching your hand to your boyfriend's boxers, failing miserably as jungwon holds both your thighs back, nearly folding you in half, the sight of your glistening heat practically inviting him in.

moving to push your thighs back with one of his hands, jungwon reaches to the nightstand beside his bed, grabbing his phone that was on top of it, opening the camera app before placing it near him on the mattress. "fuck baby, please. i need to record your pretty face taking my cock." he groans, seeing the mess of the wetness that surrounded your cunt.

"yes jungwon! please wanna feel you stretch me out—!" you whine, your own hands replacing jungwon's hand that was pushing your thighs back, exposing yourself bare beneath him. "fuckkkkk." jungwon hisses as he frees himself from his tight boxers, stroking himself slowly and finding eye contact with you. your big doe eyes begging for jungwon to fill you up. he obliges, pushing his thick mushroom tip in, causing you to let out a loud gasp, then bottoming out.

your hands hold your thighs tightly as jungwon stays still for a bit, allowing you to adjust to his size. "m' so full wonnie." you sigh, bucking your hips up with small movements indicating that it was okay for him to move. jungwon pulls out until only his tip is inside you and plunges into you deeply, making you feel every ridge and vein. you let out a string of moans in response, your warm velvety walls pulling jungwon in and tightening around his length. grunting in response as he scrambles to grab his phone. "keep your legs like that, show the camera how well you take my cock in that tight pussy."

you let a moan of jungwon's name when you see the flash of the camera on, the hand that wasn't recording to grab at one your tits. "so big jungwon—!" your words slur as he sets a relentless pace, the camera capturing the sight of his dick disappearing deep into your cunt, the wet sounds and squelches filling the room. your hands find purchase in holding jungwon's big shoulders, admiring the way the muscles on his arms flexed along with the thrusts he gave you.

"thaaat's it, show the camera who make you feel good." giving you a few more harsh strokes before stopping the video and tossing his phone to the side. jungwon curses at the sight of how easily your cunt sucks in his thick length. "so fucking tight baby, shit—! your pussy feels so good!" jungwon groaning as he feels your walls flutter around him. "so so good jungwon! more more more!" you babble, pleasure stinging in every part of your body. and jungwon was pretty much already giving you every you could'vr asked for in bed.

"you close baby?" jungwon asks, speeding his pace to an even more impossible level, hands moving your thighs over his shoulder, the angle making him hit even deeper, a small bulge displaying thru your stomach, making you press against the bulge. "i am—! please fill me wonnie. wanna be full of your cum mmh—!"

"shit cum around me like the good girl you are." jungwon didn't need to even ask twice as you throw your head back against the soft pillows on his bed, walls spasming around his cock as you let loose on your climax, jungwon following quickly after, making sure to milk every drop of his cum into you.

"i probably can't walk properly after this!" you exclaimed as jungwon came back into the room from the bathroom with a warm towel, wiping your now sensitive, spent heat. he laughs in response, "you were so fucking hot in the video, jesus." looking over the video that was recorded on his phone briefly.

"glad i could be of service." you sarcastically salute, eyes half lidded once cleaned up and with one of jungwon's t-shirts over your body. "sorry went a little too hard baby." jungwon kissing the exposed part of your shoulder blade, making you forget about the unfinished card game with heeseung outside, keeping you all to himself. ୨ ୧

[synthetickitsune]

Woozi (SVT) | Afterglow fluff | 0.6k | gn!reader warnings: mentions of previous sexual activities but nothing explicit

His eyes are so bright. It's not exactly a fresh observation but everything feels new, somehow. Maybe you're only still coming back to your senses. All of him is bright. And he's bright, inside and out. And it doesn't register in your brain that he can't read your thoughts and so your wide smile and fond eyes make no sense to him. 

"What is it?" Jihoon asks, one of his hands coming up to stroke your cheek. If he's bright, then you’re soft. He marvels at the long-known and yet somehow new revelation. He runs the very tips of his fingers up and down your cheek and the side of your face. You’d give into him so easily if he pressed, but he won’t. He feels each little dip and tiny scar and he's so glad you're you, and not some perfect doll playing at being human. He could touch you forever. And, like you, he too doesn't think to tell you. Maybe you'll be able to read it from the lift of the corners of his lips. 

"What is it?" you mirror and he laughs softly before pulling you in for a kiss. Your lips are so soft. His kiss makes you feel like you're glowing from the inside.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers against your lips, unashamed to tell you how he feels in the precious minutes when you’re covered by the blanket of serenity and satisfaction. 

“You too,” …but he remains bashful when it’s his turn to accept praise.

Reality threatens to burst your little bubble soon - you'll need to clean up. You're both sweaty, and the sheets are messy, and your bodies are messy too, but you want to stay like this forever - to simply float on a cloud with Jihoon by your side. His smile could chase storm clouds away. 

"Come closer," is what he says, but it's different words you hear and that you return by pressing a lingering kiss to the underside of his jaw as you cuddle up to him. You will yourself to ignore the drying bodily fluids on your skins. 

His arms are strong but gentle around you, and you let yourself feel small and vulnerable for a second. A rare treat that you both only allow yourself with each other. And even so you don’t usually get the courage to unless it’s in the moments like this. You breathe in deeply his scent, a hint of his cologne still present, just like he can faintly smell your shampoo in your hair.

There's no need to say anything more. Soon the endorphins will give way to the rest of what you can feel but until then, you want to bask in his warmth and the feeling of his nails scratching lightly along your spine. He, too, seems reluctant to even think about pulling away from your lips singing sweet praises into his ear, genuine reassurances that he'd usually shy away from. 

Right now, though, he's already naked and so are you, and you're so soft and pliant under his touch that he can show as much trust in you as you show him. What would be the point in hiding if you’ve already bared yourselves to each other completely?

Jihoon closes his eyes again and nuzzles further into your hair. You fit so well against his body, like with each embrace you’re molding yourself into him. It’s a nice thought, that you’d become the one who’s meant to be for each other. Without the intervention of fate, destiny, without supernatural ties and bonds. Just two humans loving each other, choosing each other for no other reason than love and trust.

It’s a foreign feeling. A scary one too. Do you feel scared like he does? Does it make your heart race just like his? He hugs you closer. Doubts are for later. For now he only needs to hold you.

[maskedbyghost]

idk why but i keep thinking about that book 'the hating game' and how you and simon share an office on the base. you’re both lieutenants, top of your game, but forced to work together because price picked you two as his best, and you hate each other.

i mean, hate hate.

constant fights, never agreeing on anything important, always butting heads. you’re both so damn hot-headed, it drives you fucking crazy how much he frustrates you. so for months, you're stuck like this—sitting across from each other doing paperwork, prepping for missions, always competing, trying to one-up the other.

then one day, you overhear someone saying how simon rarely shows his face to anyone, and you’re thrown off because… he always takes his mask off in the office with you. wouldn’t he hide his face from his biggest enemy?

but, hey, you’re not complaining. you’ve gotten used to reading his every expression—especially that look of pure annoyance when you say something snarky, and he runs a hand through his hair, and… oh.

you start wondering what else he'd do with his hands, like how he’d grip your hair if you were on your knees, hands wrapped around his d—wait, what? no no no, you hate him. sure, he looks ridiculously good, but that’s not the point. he drives you insane.

but the thing is, simon’s not doing any better.

he loves being in the room with you, hearing your voice, even when you're bickering about something he said. watching your cheeks flush when you get mad… yeah, he’s obsessed, but he’s convinced you’d rip him apart if he ever acted on it.

and then, after months of this push and pull, it all breaks one night. you're arguing about something stupid again, standing way too close, and suddenly, he snaps. his hand is on your neck, and he’s kissing you. hard. expecting the worst from you. but instead, your arms wrap around his neck, slowly, like it's second nature, pulling him even closer until there's no space left between you, the heat of his body sinking into yours, and you can feel the roughness of his breath against your lips, as if you’ve both been waiting for this moment, for this closeness, all along.

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should i make this longer maybee?

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@daydreamerwoah

[its-avalon-08]

Hi. Could you do a Fernando Alonso one where reader are Carmen's sister and sometimes accompany her to races to spend time together due to reader's busy schedule with her modeling career and to the point where Fernando becomes interested in knowing more about her while George and Carmen try to set them up, since they realize how well the two get along and the tension that is in the air

meddling and podiums (fa14)

✦ pairing - fernando alonso x female!reader

✦ genre - friends to lovers, meddling george and carmen, cute, fluff,

The paddock was buzzing with the usual energy of race day. The sun beat down on the vibrant F1 scene, with fans filling the grandstands, drivers making last-minute preparations, and teams moving swiftly to ensure everything was ready for lights out. Amidst all this, Carmen and her sister, Y/N, walked through the paddock, turning a few heads.

Y/N hadn’t been to a race in a while. Her modeling career kept her moving from city to city, but today, she managed to carve out time to support her sister and spend some quality time together.

“I'm so glad you could make it,” Carmen smiled, looping her arm through Y/N's as they navigated through the McLaren garage. “Feels like I never see you anymore."

Y/N laughed, adjusting her sunglasses as she glanced around. "Tell me about it. I've missed this vibe. You know how crazy my schedule’s been. But I needed this. A break, some racing… and, of course, hanging out with my favorite sister."

“Your only sister,” Carmen teased.

As they walked past the garages, Y/N caught sight of the familiar green of the Aston Martin team and its star driver, Fernando Alonso. His presence was impossible to ignore—tall, rugged, and oozing confidence as he discussed strategy with his engineers. She had seen him on TV countless times but seeing him up close was something else entirely. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly commanding he was.

Carmen noticed her sister’s gaze lingering. "Interesting view?" she asked playfully, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N shrugged nonchalantly, though a smirk played on her lips. "Just… observing. No harm in looking, right?"

"Right…" Carmen said, clearly noting the spark of interest. "Come on, George is waiting for us at Mercedes. But, I wouldn't mind taking a detour near the Aston Martin garage later."

Y/N chuckled. "You're not that subtle, you know."

As they made their way towards George, Y/N felt someone’s eyes on her. Glancing up, she met Fernando Alonso’s gaze for the briefest of moments. He looked curious, like he was trying to place her face. She wasn’t just another person in the paddock to him. And then, just as quickly, the moment passed, and he turned back to his conversation.

They reached Mercedes, where George Russell was leaning casually against a wall, spotting them from a distance with a wide grin on his face. "Well, look who finally decided to show up—Miss World herself," he teased, pushing off and walking over with a playful bounce in his step.

Y/N smirked, rolling her eyes as she hugged him. "Oh please, as if you don’t love having me around to boost your popularity. Admit it, you’ve missed me."

"Missed? Try celebrating the peace and quiet since you've been jet-setting across the world," George shot back, ruffling her hair in a brotherly gesture. "Now you're back to ruin it all."

"Ruin it? I make everything better, Russ. Without me, you'd be bored out of your mind."

Carmen laughed as she watched them banter, but George wasn’t done. “Honestly, I think the paddock’s been too calm. Carmen’s always talking about you, and I’m like—great, now I have to deal with two of them. Double trouble."

Y/N punched him lightly on the arm. “Admit it, you love having me around to keep you on your toes."

George laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright! You win. It’s nice to see you here, Y/N. It’s not the same without you stirring things up."

Y/N smirked. "That’s what I thought."

As they exchanged more playful jabs, George's expression turned more mischievous. "Oh, by the way, Alonso's been… asking about you."

Carmen and George shared a knowing look. "Well, you did just catch his eye. Plus, he's been asking questions like… ‘Who’s the girl that sometimes comes with Carmen?’ And ‘What does she do?’ You know, the usual."

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. "He could just ask me directly, you know."

“Oh, I’m sure he’s thinking about it,” Carmen said, nudging her.

As they chatted, George’s phone buzzed. He glanced down and grinned. “Speak of the devil. Fernando’s just invited us to the Aston Martin hospitality. Care to join?”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, pretending to think. "Isn't this a bit of an obvious setup?"

Carmen laughed. "It's not a setup if there's already chemistry."

George nodded, backing her up. "Exactly. Come on, Y/N. Just join us. I bet it’ll be fun."

Y/N sighed, though a flicker of curiosity burned in her eyes. "Alright, alright. But if this gets awkward, I’m blaming both of you."

"Deal," George smirked, already texting Fernando back.

As they made their way toward Aston Martin, Y/N felt the flutter of anticipation rise in her chest. She hadn’t expected to feel like this, but there was something intriguing about Fernando. The way he carried himself, the quiet confidence… it piqued her interest.

And if the way George and Carmen were looking at her was any indication, they were already rooting for something to happen.

---

The Aston Martin hospitality suite was buzzing with activity when Y/N, Carmen, and George arrived. The gleaming green branding and calm atmosphere contrasted sharply with the chaotic energy outside. Fernando was standing near a table, engrossed in conversation with one of the team members, but as soon as they entered, his eyes flicked toward them.

George waved, leading the way. “Fernando! Hope we’re not interrupting anything important.”

Fernando glanced up, a subtle smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Not at all,” he said smoothly, nodding at George before his gaze shifted to Y/N. “I see you’ve brought company.”

Y/N felt a slight flutter in her stomach as his dark eyes locked on hers. His presence was even more intense up close, and though he kept his tone casual, there was something in the way he looked at her that made her feel like they were the only two in the room.

“This is Y/N,” George said, clearly enjoying the moment. “You know, Carmen’s sister. We thought we’d drag her to more races since she’s been so busy.”

“Nice to finally meet you in person,” Fernando said, extending his hand toward Y/N. His voice was deep and calm, carrying a sense of quiet authority.

Y/N smiled, taking his hand in a firm handshake. “Likewise. I’ve heard a lot about you,” she replied, her voice steady despite the unexpected jolt that came from the contact.

“Only good things, I hope,” Fernando said, his tone light but his eyes lingering on hers.

Y/N tilted her head slightly, a playful glint in her eyes. “Mostly.”

Carmen shot George a look, clearly noticing the subtle tension between them. “So, Fernando, you’re ready for today’s race?”

“Always,” he responded, but his attention was still on Y/N. “And what about you, Y/N? How does this compare to the excitement of your world?”

Y/N laughed softly, breaking eye contact for a moment. “A little different from the fashion shows, but I think I prefer the noise and chaos here. Plus, watching these races is a nice break from my schedule.”

Fernando’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. “I imagine modeling takes you all over the world.”

“It does,” she replied. “But I try to make time for things that really matter. Family, friends… experiences.” Her eyes flicked up to meet his again, and there was no mistaking the subtle undercurrent in her words.

George, sensing the building tension, decided to jump in before things got too intense. “You two are making me feel like a third wheel,” he said, laughing awkwardly. Carmen elbowed him, but George just grinned. “Maybe we should give you a little more space.”

Carmen chimed in, smiling innocently. “That’s not a bad idea. George and I were going to grab some food, actually. You know, let you two get to know each other without us butting in.”

Y/N shot her sister a look, knowing exactly what she was trying to do. “Carmen…”

But George was already pulling Carmen along, leaving Fernando and Y/N standing there alone. "We'll be right back!" he called out, far too chipper as they disappeared into the crowd.

Y/N turned back to Fernando, trying not to laugh at her sister and George’s obvious meddling. “They’re not exactly subtle, are they?”

Fernando chuckled, his gaze softening. “Not at all.”

There was a moment of silence, but it wasn’t awkward. The air between them felt charged, like there was something simmering beneath the surface. Y/N could feel his eyes on her, the weight of his attention making her heart race.

“You’re close with George and Carmen?” Fernando asked, his tone casual, but his interest was clear.

“Yeah,” she replied, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Carmen and I are really close. It’s hard with my schedule, so I try to come to races whenever I can to see her. George is like an annoying older brother, but… we all get along.”

Fernando nodded, his eyes following her movements. “I can see that. They seem like good people.”

“They are,” Y/N said. “George is always looking out for Carmen, and by extension, me. Which is probably why they’re trying so hard to—” she paused, catching herself before finishing the sentence, but Fernando raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.

“To…?” he prompted.

Y/N smirked, shaking her head. “To do exactly what they’re doing right now—setting us up.”

Fernando’s lips curved into a small smile. “Ah, so you noticed.”

“Hard not to,” she replied with a light laugh. “They’ve been dropping hints for weeks now.”

Fernando’s expression grew more serious, though the smile never left his face. “And what do you think about that? Being set up?”

Y/N paused, meeting his gaze again. There was something about him—he was confident, sure, but not in an arrogant way. His interest in her felt genuine, and she couldn’t deny the chemistry that was already building between them.

“I don’t usually like being set up,” she admitted, her voice softening. “But… I guess it depends on the person.”

Fernando’s smile widened slightly, and he took a step closer. “And what do you think of me so far?”

Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat, the intensity of his gaze pulling her in. She smiled, tilting her head slightly as she held his gaze. “I think you might surprise me.”

Fernando’s eyes darkened with interest, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. “I hope that’s a good thing.”

Before Y/N could respond, Carmen and George reappeared with mischievous grins on their faces, carrying trays of food.

“Did we miss anything?” George asked, far too casually.

Y/N glanced at Fernando, her lips curving into a knowing smile. “Nothing you two don’t already know.”

time skip

As the race weekend unfolded, it became clear to everyone in the paddock—especially to George and Carmen—that Fernando and Y/N were inseparable. Every free second, whether it was between practice sessions, during lunch breaks, or even casual moments walking through the paddock, they were side by side. Their conversations seemed endless, filled with easy laughter and stolen glances.

George and Carmen watched from the sidelines, their plotting almost becoming a sport of its own.

Friday afternoon

“Look at them,” Carmen whispered to George, nudging him as they stood by the Mercedes garage. Fernando and Y/N were sitting on a bench a few meters away, deep in conversation. Y/N was laughing at something Fernando had said, her face lighting up in a way that was hard to miss.

George smirked, crossing his arms. “I think we’ve done quite a job here.”

Carmen giggled, leaning into him. “You think they even notice how much time they’re spending together?”

“No way. They’re too busy making heart eyes at each other.”

Saturday, after qualifying

As the sun began to dip, the paddock was alive with chatter. Drivers were heading off for briefings, and team members bustled about. But Y/N and Fernando stood off to the side, leaning casually against a wall, completely in their own world.

“So,” Y/N said, leaning closer to him with a teasing smile, “you and George seem to get along surprisingly well. He’s not too annoying for you?”

Fernando chuckled, crossing his arms and shaking his head. “I think I’ve learned to tune him out when he starts talking too much.”

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes. “That’s the secret to dealing with George. He loves the sound of his own voice.”

Fernando raised an eyebrow, his voice dropping just slightly. “And what about you? Are you as good at tuning him out?”

“Sometimes,” Y/N said, biting her lip, her tone playful. “But mostly, I just out-talk him.”

Fernando’s smirk grew, the tension between them unmistakable. “I can’t say I mind that.”

The air between them grew heavier, but before the moment could deepen, George’s voice cut through the tension.

“Hey, lovebirds!” he called out, grinning widely as he approached with Carmen. “Need any more help getting through this weekend together?”

Y/N groaned, laughing despite herself. “You really don’t know when to stop, do you?”

Carmen elbowed George, shooting Y/N and Fernando a playful wink. “Ignore him. He’s just jealous he’s not the center of attention.”

Fernando chuckled, his gaze lingering on Y/N. “I don’t think anyone could take attention away from Y/N.”

Sunday afternoon, post-race

The crowd was roaring as the podium ceremony wrapped up, and Fernando had just claimed an impressive P2. Y/N stood at the edge of the celebration, smiling as she watched him pop the champagne and soak in the cheers from the fans. There was something exhilarating about being part of this world, but today it felt even more electric. Fernando’s win wasn’t the only thing sparking the excitement in the air.

As the drivers made their way off the podium, Fernando spotted Y/N standing by, clapping and grinning at him. His eyes lit up as he made a beeline toward her, weaving through the crowd. Still in his race suit, champagne dripping from his hair, he looked like a man on top of the world.

As the podium celebrations wound down, Fernando made his way through the crowd, eyes scanning for Y/N. He spotted her standing just off to the side, her smile wide as she clapped along with the cheering fans. Despite the chaos surrounding them, she was a steady presence, and he couldn't help but feel drawn to her.

Still in his race suit, with champagne glistening on his hair and skin, he approached her, wiping a hand across his face as he grinned. “Not bad, huh?”

Y/N beamed up at him, her eyes bright. “Not bad at all. You looked like you were in your element out there.”

Fernando chuckled, slightly breathless but clearly energized. “I had some extra motivation.”

“Oh yeah?” Y/N raised an eyebrow, her voice teasing. “And what might that be?”

He took a step closer, the noise of the paddock dimming in his mind. “You.”

Her smile faltered for just a second, surprise flashing in her eyes before she tilted her head, amused. “Me?”

Fernando nodded, his voice lowering as his gaze softened. “Yeah. Being around you this weekend… I haven’t felt like this in a while.”

There was a moment of silence between them, the air heavy with unsaid words. Y/N’s heart was racing, the playful teasing that usually colored their conversations giving way to something deeper.

“Listen,” Fernando said, his voice gentle but sure, “I know this weekend’s been crazy, but if you’re not flying out tomorrow… I’d like to take you out. Just us, somewhere quiet. No paddock noise, no distractions.”

Y/N’s breath hitched slightly, her gaze locking with his. There was something sincere and almost vulnerable in his eyes, and for a moment, she forgot about the crowd, the race, and everything else.

“So,” she began, a small, teasing smile playing on her lips, “you’re asking me out, Alonso?”

Fernando smirked, his usual confidence creeping back as he held her gaze. “I am.”

Y/N bit her lip, her smile widening. “I think I’d like that.”

His eyes brightened with a mix of relief and excitement, the tension between them palpable. “Good. I'll make sure it’s worth your while.”

Y/N stepped a little closer, her voice dropping to match the quiet intimacy of the moment. “I’m counting on it.”

For a brief second, the world around them seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of them standing there, caught in the electricity of something new.

As George and Carmen celebrated their success from the sidelines, Fernando and Y/N exchanged a look filled with the kind of tension that only comes when two people know they’re on the edge of something more.

And for once, the noise of the race weekend faded into the background, leaving just the two of them in the moment.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

NERD!ANAKIN HEADCANONS

TW: at some point it contains sexual content, so if you're sensitive to that or don't feel comfortable with it, please do not read it for your own safety and comfort.

Author's note: thinking about some nerd!anakin fic where he had heard the reader talk with her friends that she's not passing physics and since he has the biggest crush on her since second grade he later suggest to help her..if she'll help him with something else ;)

Nerd!Anakin who inside was a little dirty minded boy that wished nothing more to have a loving girlfriend to do with her all the cool, nice things he always wanted to do (and he meant more joyful activities than sex)

Nerd!Anakin who has a collection of technical manuals and scientific holobooks that he reads in his spare time. His nightstand is filled with them, and he gets excited when a new one comes out. He’ll stay up late, curled up on the couch, devouring a manual on hyperdrive mechanics or some obscure sci-fi novel, eyes glued to the hologram.

He also loves telling you all about the technical details of what he's learning. You may not always understand everything he’s talking about, but his excitement is so adorable that you just let him ramble on.

Nerd!Anakin who has a soft spot for droids, and he might even give them 'upgrades' just because he thinks they deserve a treat. “You’ve been working hard, buddy. How about a new power cell?”. He’ll talk to them while he works, explaining what he’s doing like they’re his assistants (his fav is R2D2 obviously)

Nerd!Anakin who gets ridiculously excited about the latest gadgets or tech upgrades. When something new comes out, he’s like a kid in a candy store. Whether it's a new holo-terminal, a high-speed pod engine - he’s always the first in line to get it. He’ll show it off to you, explaining every little detail with enthusiasm. “Look at this! It has a new feature that triples efficiency!” He gets that adorable spark in his eye, completely geeking out over the smallest improvements.

Nerd!Anakin who would love when you'd do your nails; he'd ask soon later (when you two are alone) if you could play with his hair to only feel you scratch very gently against his scalp

Nerd!Anakin who was a great whimpering mess whenever you touched him (poor guy had never felt woman's touch before);

a sharp gasp left his mouth as you touched the mushroomy tip of his member, his hips jerking towards you without thought. he was already embarrassingly close, and now your teasing was only driving him closer to the edge “please-“ he let out a pleading moan, the words barely leaving his dry mouth

"please what ani? Use your words like good boys do"

He tried to focus enough to form a coherent sentence but it was getting so hard when all his mind could focus on, was the way you made him feel “I’m close-“ he gasped out, his hips rocking frantically against your tightening fist “I’m so close baby, i need it” he let out a sobbing whimper

"can you hold it in a little?" you asked gently

he groaned at the question before nodding almost desperately “for you, anything” his glasses sliding down his nose

You only hummed, all proud of your actions. How easily you could tear him apart by your single touch. Using her free hand to move his glasses so they were a bit more comfortable on him. You increased your movements, making sure to

he could feel the heat in his abdomen tighten as your hand moved faster. he was struggling to keep himself together, not much to your surprise "oh-oh god-“ he let out a loud gasp and a groan as your thumb moved over his tip again, that little touch sending electricity up his spine “oh-fuck…” one hand digging into the couch for some kind of grip “I can’t hold it—please please please” tears of desperation and overwhelming began to prick at the corner of his eyes

Nerd!Anakin who when was nervous, draw circles and designs on the back of your hand to relax himself

Nerd!Anakin who did your own minifigure from Legos

Nerd!Anakin who always had perfectly ironed shirts

Nerd!Anakin who in general was perfectionist in everything he'd do. If he had a mess in his room, he couldn't focus normally. If just one thing was moved inches apart, it drove him wild

Nerd!Anakin who made cupcakes with his mother for you

Nerd!Anakin who's a true mommy's boy

Nerd!Anakin who teared up after you gave him his first blowjob. He felt so overstimulated when his thick member was hugged around your warm throat, your tongue working on his shaft..it was way too much for the first time, he'd gasp and ask you to slow down because if you wouldn't, you'd already have his cum dripping down your throat

Nerd!Anakin who gave you flowers - sometimes real one and sometimes he'd do them from origamy

Nerd!Anakin who has a little sketchbook where he draws schematics for future projects—droid designs, custom technology accessories, etc. He’s always thinking of new ways to improve things, and his sketches are filled with intricate details and notes.

Sometimes, he’ll show you a design he’s particularly proud of, grinning ear to ear as he explains how it works. “What do you think? Pretty sleek, huh?”

Nerd!Anakin who was a true worshipper of your body. Would press such gentle kisses all over your body as if you were a ceramic doll he was scared to break

Nerd!Anakin who's glasses got foggy everytime he made love to you, his curls sticking to his forehead and his pinky, swollen lips quivering to hold back his own orgasm

Nerd!Anakin who adored math and physics (but not as much as he adored you). And of course, he loved to help you with those subjects

Nerd!Anakin ho invited you to weekly movie marathon. With all the snacks ready and a fluffy blanket

Nerd!Anakin who adored to cuddle with you. It was something so precious for him, and whenever he had a chance, he'd just wrap his arms around your waist from behind and nuzzle to your soft neck

Nerd!Anakin who liked to play with your hair like brushing them out of your face, twirling the strand around his finger and watch intensively, as if it was the most important/gorgeous/captivating sight he had seen, how it hugged his finger so perfectly

Nerd!Anakin who had his 'sexual education' with you;

Anakin hesitantly reached out, his hand trembling as he lifted it towards your chest. He hesitates for a moment once more, not sure if he's ready to do that. He just felt so sinful watching you naked..but oh so good.. so, before the thoughts would envelope his entire mind, he gently cupped one of your round, full breasts. He instantly marveled at, not only the softeneness but the weight, the way it filled his palm, how it was so beautiful, seeing your raspberry ripple hidden thanks to his large hand made him feel so fuzzy all inside

As he squeezed the soft globe tentatively, feeling its weight sprawl all over his senses, he couldn't help but let out a low moan, his body responding to the newfound pleasure. Guilty feelings fade away, leaving him all needy for more of you. His fingertips graze over your nipple to harden it, eliciting a soft gasp from both of you. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with wonder. "I-how i-" he stuttered shyly "-what should I do now?"

"whatever you want..you can kiss it, play with it, anything you want Annie"

Anakin's eyes widen at your words. To have the whole access to your body felt more pleasurable than anything in his life. He leaned in, pressing a soft, tentative kiss to the underside of your breast. You gazed down at how his glasses pressed against your skin, making your breath hitched. He then brought his hand up to gently squeeze and caress the soft mound at your left breast, almost nuzzling to the right one. He looked back up at you, seeking approval, as if not sure if he could go any further

"go on, they're all yours" you encouraged

Anakin smiles shyly at your encouragement, feeling emboldened. He starts to kiss and lick at your breasts, alternating between the two. He gently nibbles on your nipples, sucking on them and releasing them with soft popping sounds. "Ahh... they're so soft... and t-tasty..." he mumbled the last part more quietly, as if embarrassed that he actually thought about your breasts in that way

he accidentally uses a bit too much pressure with his teeth, causing you to hiss in pain. He immediately freezes, his eyes filled with worry. "I'm so sorry... did I hurt you?" His voice soft, laced with adorable concern.

"no--its okay..just try to use a little less teeth..and relax"

Anakin nods, his expression turning gentle again. He leans back in, this time more careful, his touch feather-light. He alternates between sucking and licking, paying close attention to the way you react to his touch. "Like this?" He asks softly, his voice muffled against your skin.

"just like that" you tugged on his curls

After the moaned sentence left your mouth, Anakin felt a surge of pride. He continues his gentle ministrations, his own body growing harder with each passing moment. He looks up at you,l with his eyes hooded. "Can I... can I kiss you lower now?"

Nerd!Anakin who was scared to eat you out at first, cause it'd be his very much first pussy. But when he did, he had no idea how to do it. He used his teeth a little too much, his tongue a bit too forceful but in time he got better

Nerd!Anakin who loves space documentaries. He'll make you sit with him on the couch to watch them, enthusiastically pointing out facts you didn’t even know he knew. He’s the type to lean over and say things like, “Did you know that this system’s star is actually binary? And it formed 4.6 billion years ago?”

Nerd!Anakin who uses cheesy, nerdy pick-up lines that leave you both laughing. He’s the kind of guy who would say, “Are you made of copper and tellurium? Because you’re Cu-Te.” He says it with so much confidence that you can’t help but find it endearing.

When you tease him about it, he’ll get all flustered, scratching the back of his head with that sheepish grin. “I thought it was clever..and you'd like it, maybe give me a small kiss or something.."

Nerd!Anakin who is fiercely protective of his tech projects. If someone tries to mess with them or touch his tools without asking, he’ll get all defensive. “Hey, be careful with that! I’ve been working on this for weeks.”

But when it’s you? He lets you mess with his projects all you want, even if it makes him a bit nervous. He’ll give you a dorky smile and say, “Just don’t break it, okay?” But secretly, he loves sharing his passions with you.

Nerd!Anakin who, as smart as he is with machines, is absolutely terrible in the kitchen. He’ll try to make you dinner as a sweet surprise, but something always goes wrong—he burns the food, the recipe doesn’t turn out, or the kitchen ends up looking like a disaster zone.

He’ll stand there, looking embarrassed but hopeful, holding a burnt dish with a lopsided grin. “Uh, it’s a little... crispy..”

Nerd!Anakin who leaves you small, nerdy notes;

On a sticky note on your fridge

"You’re the binary star to my existence. Without you, my orbit is off. Also, I reprogrammed the toaster. You're welcome.”

In your notebook or planner

“If I could rewrite the laws of physics, I'd bend space-time just to spend an extra 5 minutes with you.”

"The only code I can’t crack? How you make my heart race this fast.

Tucked inside your favorite book

“You're like the perfect algorithm: complex, beautiful, and always leaving me wanting to solve the equation that is you.”

On your desk after a long day

“You must have a gravity field around you, because I can't seem to stay away. P.S. Check under the desk, I might've added a small modification.”

Next to your coffee in the morning

"You must be a supernova, because you light up my entire galaxy."

Left on the keyboard of your laptop

“I may be fluent in over 6 million forms of communication, but none can express how much you mean to me. Except maybe binary: 01001001 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101.”

On a scrap of paper in your bag

“If life were an RPG, you’d be the rarest item—a perfect balance of stats, charisma, and intelligence. Also, +100 beauty.”

Tucked in between your sketchpad pages (if you're into art)

“You’re the canvas, I’m the artist... together, we create the perfect masterpiece. P.S. I’m still better at drawing starships though.”

Left in your lunchbox

“Did you know you increase productivity in starship repairs by 43% just by being near me? I’d call that a superpower.”

Taped to a little DIY gadget he made for you

“This little thing is just like you—ingenious and holds everything together. Also, try pressing the blue button for a surprise.”

Next to your favorite snack

“You’re like the perfect engineering schematic: flawless in design, and I can’t stop marveling at the details.”

In your locker

"I’d cross the Kessel Run in less than 12 parsecs just to see your smile."

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @erosmutt @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet (I have not forgot about you now ;) )

(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

[222col]

second best | part two

★ patrick zweig x reader ★ you're after revenge, wanting to give patrick a taste of his own medicine, the question is, how long will it last? ★ 5.3k ★ 18+ | cw: smut: unprotected sex, choking, spanking ★ an: part one | take a shot every time u see the word thwaccckkkk

"you gonna win for me tomorrow?" patrick mumbles against your skin, his lips against your neck, arms around your waist as his hips buck up into you. you'd made it to the final of the tournament, your first final of a slam, in only your second pro season. biting down on his earlobe, legs wrapped around his waist, groaning into his ear. "yeah? gonna be a good girl and win for me?" he repeats, causing another moan from you. "you're so beautiful when you play, can't wait to watch you." it's as though the only time you and patrick are truly honest with each other is when you're fucking each other, drunk off the sex, too fucked out to play along with any games that exist between you. you can barely form words to respond to patrick, not that you'd need to, he can understand you without them. he mumbles more praise into your ear as he finishes inside you, panting against your skin. "my perfect girl." he whispers, placing open mouth kisses to your shoulder. my perfect girl. you're not even his girl, not really. immediately sliding off him, starting to get dressed as he attempts to pull you back onto the bed with him. "i need to prepare for tomorrow." you mumble, pulling your t-shirt over your head. "why are you being so bitchy these past few days?" he pokes, leaning back on his palms. "you've barely looked at me if i'm not literally inside you." you're biting back your words, holding in your anger that's so close to bubbling over. waiting desperately to chew him out, curse at him, scream every word you can think of at him, but you don't. you simply stand, walk over to the door, and tell him goodbye.

you'd vowed to yourself that your time in new york was the end of your time with patrick, as soon as the us open was over, so were you and him. you'd come to your senses after getting home the night of the quarter finals. you wanted revenge. you wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine, make him sweat. show him what he was doing to you was wrong, that you deserved better than second best. it might be slightly immoral, but patrick had pushed you past limits you didn't know you had. you knew the easy thing would be just telling his girlfriend, but that was almost too easy. you wanted to see him worked up, wanted to see how far he'd go denying his feelings for you. how long he could go before snapping.

6-3. first set. 5-4. second set. you were one game away from lifting the trophy. one game away from your first grand slam title. 40-15. one more point. thwaccckkkk! the ball bounces onto the other side of the net and straight past your opponent, feeling yourself fall to the ground as the crowd erupts. letting a scream fall from your lips, pulling yourself back up to your feet. patrick's the first you see, stood with your team, wide grin plastered on his face as you walk over to shake your opponents hand. after you collect your trophy, doing all your press junkets, you head into the dressing room. seeing patrick sat there, on the bench waiting for you. "congrats, champ." he sits there smirking at you as you drop your bag to the floor. you walk straight over to him, standing between his legs as he wraps his arms around you. "i'm all sweaty, get off." you mumble, despite his grip only tightening. "no, i love it." he grins, his face pushing into your stomach, kissing the fabric that clings to your skin. "so proud of you." he whispers, inhaling your scent as his hands move down to your ass, underneath your skirt, massaging the flesh through your shorts. his face turns up, looking up to you as you stand before him, ripping your tight top off your body. breathing in deeply, before patrick stands, letting you peel his t-shirt from his body. pushing you up against the wall, his lips attaching to yours. his hands roaming your body, pushing your skort down your legs as you move your feet out from the pool of fabric. "let me look after you, winner." he mumbles into your skin of your neck, undoing his jeans and pushing them down his legs.

it's messy, desperate, the speed in which yours and his underwear are thrown behind you. his big hands lifting you up, laying you down on the bench, his legs either side of it. spitting in his hands, wiping it up and down his length. his hands gripping into your hips, pulling them up to meet him as he pushes himself into you. your back arched at the sensation, choking back moans as he fucks himself into you. his signature smirk across his face, seeing you squirm under his touch. his nails digging into your skin, skin slapping against yours. your already weak body losing more energy, letting patrick take complete control of you. "that's my good girl, let me take care of you." he hums, biting his lip, keeping his groans stuck in his throat. his eyes are glued to you, watching yours roll back into your head as he lifts your hips up even higher. "feel so fucking good baby." he mumbles praise, bringing your legs up to rest against his chest. pressing wet kisses to your ankles. your hands gripping the wooden panels of the bench, head flung back as a loud whimper leaves your mouth. "shush," patrick hums, chuckling almost. "you're gonna get us caught, princess." he leans forward, contorting your body as he moves one of his hands over your mouth. your brows are furrowed, looking up into his eyes as he pounds into you harder. your mouth agape under his calloused hand, his fingers tight on your cheekbones. his grip on your hip moves to bring his hand to your cunt, smirking as he watches you squirm once his thumb starts circling your clit. he loves you like this, a whimpering, sweaty mess under his touch. it's his favourite sight in the world, watching you unravel under him. all his over thoughts disappear the second you're alone with him. he'd live in his state if humanly possible.

your body jolts, writhing under his touch as you fall over the line. moans slipping through his fingers as he works you through your high. his head flinging back, shooting his load into you as he feels you clench around him. "holy fuck." he groans, gripping onto your ankles as he lets his cum drip down from you. both whimpering at the loss of sensation as he pulls out of you, letting your legs drop down to your sides. "jesus, that was fucking insane." he mutters, chuckling slightly. "i know." you smile back, walking over to the shower to clean yourself up as he gets dressed. walking back out in a new skort and matching top, zipping up your jacket as you pick up your bags. "that was the last time." you state, lips flatlined as you look to his position by the lockers. patrick's brows furrowing, kicking himself off the metal lockers to strand up straight. "what?" he questions, his mouth slightly agape. shrugging your shoulders as you open the door to the dressing room. "i'm not second best." patrick's speechless, watching you leave. his body slumping down onto the floor, his head flinging back into the lockers with force. "fuck!"

it's a month before you see patrick again, at the next tournament you're both competing at. a stream of unanswered texts flood your phone, along with a collection of drunk voicemails left by him. swept away by the attention winning your first slam, your focus on your tennis for the time being. half way across the world, you check into your hotel, readying yourself for the players mixer being held. walking into the hotel's function room, the hall already awash with players as you strut over to the bar. "will you just fucking talk to me?" you hear the familiar voice in your ear the second he reaches you. "fuck off, patrick." you murmur, before ordering yourself a drink. "you're killing me." he groans, his voice needy. "why won't you reply to any of my texts?" he questions, as you stand by a table, holding your drink in your hands, not looking to him. patrick's following you around like a puppy, desperate for you to just look at him, let alone reply. when you finally do, look at him, his breath catches in his throat. your eyes are soft, despite the rest of your face being utterly unimpressed by him. "i told you. it's over, patrick. leave it alone." you grumble, your words like knives to his chest. "go cry to your girlfriend." you spit, bringing your glass up your lips, looking away from him. "i don't have a girlfriend." he returns, leaning on the table, facing you. he's drinking in every move you make, every time you blink, inhaling your scent after a month away from you.

that was a new development. you bite back any form of reaction to patrick's words, just placing your drink back down on the table. he opens his mouth to speak again but he's cut off by another player entering the conversation. "hey, i'm jack. can I buy you a drink?" he smiles to you, leaning on his elbow to face you. patrick rolls his eyes, watching your body contort to face the voice beckoning you. "she's already got one." patrick mumbles, before you cut him off and nod your head to the brunette on the other side of you. "yeah, i'd like that." patrick grumbles, rolling his eyes as he watches you walk over to the bar, leaning his back on the table, glancing down to your half empty drink left beside him. he thought things would be easier, seeing you again. thought you'd come running back into his arms, especially now he'd dumped his girlfriend. but you don't. you spit at him, crush him more than the month of unanswered texts did. he sighs, picking up the remainder of your drink, downing it all as he watches you laugh and lean into the guy you're with. he spends the night sulking, drinking, watching you. pushing away the people who attempt to talk to him, too focused on watching your interactions. you're hanging onto jack's arm by the end of the night, letting him lead you upstairs, to his room. all patrick can do is watch. watch you slip further away from his grasp, while drowning his sorrows in more alcohol, that he won't be thankful for tomorrow during the first round of press.

patrick's there, always there, wherever you are the whole weekend of press and promo. following you around, just to see you. even if it means seeing you flirt and shower men that aren't him in your attention. he's lost, dumfounded on how to act if you aren't with him. desperate just to hear your velvety voice, see your lips upturn in reaction to his words, not someone else. he's consumed with need, attempting to distract himself with his tennis, not that it's working. he's panting, sweat dripping from his body on the practise courts when you walk out. seeing jack on the other side of you, carrying both sets of racket bags. throwing the ball down onto the floor a few times, breathing in before serving it across the court, met with a nod of approval by his coach. his eyes coast over to you, setting up your things, ready to play against jack. you've replaced him. you're doing everything you used to with patrick, but with another man. you don't need him anymore. it doesn't help patrick's ego that jack's ranking is much higher than his own. patrick attempts to carry on with his training, ignore the distraction of you only two courts away, but he's struggling. "get it together, patrick. c'mon." his coach presses, shouting over instructions as balls keep flying his way. it's almost impossible to concentrate on anything that isn't you. especially when he hears your grunts as you hit the ball over the net. trying to snap himself out of it, out of the very impure thoughts he's thinking. thwaccckkkk! patrick serves the ball with all his frustrations, receiving eyes on him as he does. "not bad, zweig." you half smile to him across the courts. he swears his heart stops beating.

you'd both made it through the round of 32, you're sitting in the recovery pool a couple hours after the match when patrick walks in. you don't notice the door open, only noticing his presence when his smirk forms in front of you, slipping into the small pool, sitting opposite you. "i see you're enjoying the tournament." patrick teases, his arms spread over the edges of the pool. "it's only just started." you return, pulling your legs closer to your body, away from his. "i meant more the company." he pushes, that signature smirk not leaving his lips. he wants to push you, tease you, how you're pushing him. "not that it's any of your business." you scoff, titling your head over to where he sits in the water, trying to read his expression. his hands raise in defence as he sucks on his teeth. "are you gonna be like this with me for the rest of the tour?" his tone becoming more serious as he gulps. his heart rate quickening, realising how close your body is, in such little clothing. he hadn't been alone with you for over a month, his teeth chewing on the inside of his cheek, holding back his urge to reach out and touch you. you don't respond, just rolling your eyes and looking away from him. "tell me you don't want me and i'll leave you alone." the words leave patrick's lips before he can even realise what he's said. his stomach in knots the second he realises what he's proposed, he wouldn't be able to stay away even if you did tell him that. "i don't want you." the words hit his chest before his ears, his gaze on you intense as his bottom lip is moves between his teeth. patrick's brows furrow, just looking at you as his body floods with emotion. "you don't mean that." he chokes out. all you do is stare back at him, your face unreadable as you do. the water splashes onto your chest as patrick abruptly exists the pool, wrapping the towel around his waist as he looks down to you, your eyes lifting to look up to him. your gaze still soft, as it always is with patrick. "whatever." he mumbles, pushing the door open as he scrambles out of the room.

you distract yourself with tennis, or attempt to. lying to yourself that you don't want patrick. that you don't want to run to him, to be with him, to be his. if it wasn't tennis you used as a distraction, it was jack. he knew your head was elsewhere, so was his, so it worked. you were making your way through the tournament, into the round of 16, as was patrick. a lot of eyes obviously on you after winning the us open, your ranking moving up as well as the media circus that followed you. 'new tennis power couple?' was the article you were sent, with pictures of you and jack attached. rolling your eyes as you scrolled mindlessly through the so called news site. laughing about it with jack as you joined up with him for lunch, hearing the whispers around the hall as you sat together. patrick sat alone, pushing around the food on his plate, seeing the updates come out about you and jack. he should have known not to believe it, he knows how the media can be. you're barely even touching jack in the pictures, he doesn't know you like patrick does. but it doesn't stop the pit in his stomach as he watches the two of you together. it's only when he's alone in his hotel room that he texts you, adding another message to the number of texts he'd sent over the course of the month.

patrick: i know i said i'd back off but just tell me it's not true

sighing at notification on your phone, the bright screen lighting up the empty room. you try to fight off the urge to reply, knowing exactly what he's referencing. eventually, your head wins, turning the phone off and going to downstairs to the hotel lobby, your next match wasn't until the day after tomorrow. the read receipt highlighted on patrick's phone as he sits on the chat. throwing the phone across the room after a while of sitting there waiting. after throwing a shirt on his body, he wandered down to the hotel lobby. you're already down there, sat alone with a drink in hand. patrick quietly orders himself a drink and sits down across from you. "please, just talk to me." he sighs, leaning closer to you over the table. "patrick, i-" your defences are down, too tired, too frustrated. "i know i hurt you, okay? i'll never forgive myself for that, but i miss you." he babbles, his hand inching closer towards yours. "i'm so sorry, i want you, okay, just you." he whispers, his words coming out more like sobs than fully formed sentences. you're about to open your mouth to reply, when jack appears in front of you. you'd texted him to meet you down here. looking to patrick before back up to jack, standing up to kiss his lips. it was a low blow, you knew that, but patrick deserved it. he'd ruined your self-respect, you earned your right to serve his karma to him. patrick doesn't say anything, just watches. watches your hands wrap in his hair, watches your body melt against his, watches his heart get ripped out of his chest. you make eye contact with patrick as you push jack away towards the elevators, his face emotionless.

it was fate. horrible, twisted fate that patrick would draw jack in the quarter finals. everyone was backing jack to win, he was on paper the better player. more pragmatic, less chaotic than patrick. but patrick knew he had a point to prove. his eyes immediately found you in the stands at he walks out onto the court, his smirk present as he sets down his things. you're sat with a few of the friends you've made during the tour, barely able to focus on the conversation around you, eyes darting between patrick and jack sitting before you on the court. thwaccckkkk! your nails are half bitten off by the end of the first set, your heart in your chest at the end of the second. 6-2, 6-4. one set each. patrick was playing more erratically than usual, his curls slick to his forehead, sweat dripping down his chin. thwaccckkkk! patrick's eyes dart to you. "game, set, match, zweig." patrick's body slumps to the floor, his arms resting on his knees, catching his breath before walking across the court to shake jack's hand. his eyes dart up to you again, to your empty seat. his eyes search for you, catching a glimpse of you exiting the stands. slumping down onto the floor again, thinking how it didn't mean anything. his win, to you, met nothing.

it's 10pm when you hear the knocking on your hotel door, jumping up from your place on the bed, opening the door to patrick. ready to close the door on him before he barges in. "i fucking won, and you just leave?" his voice already raised, facing you as you close the door. "so what?" you scoff, arms crossed against your chest. "i won, i beat him." his tone angry, his chest already pounding. "i didn't realise you were playing for my attention." your words are sharp, cutting through to him. "of course i fucking was!" patrick shouts, his body only two foot away from your own. "everything i do is to get your attention." his voice still raised. your lips are flat, just staring at him, but eyes still soft. "you are killing me." he almost whispers. "patrick, this was never going to end well, just look at how we started." your voice starts to increase in volume, fed up of this wounded puppy display patrick is showing. "i don't want it to end at all." you're both shouting now, not caring about who can hear through the hotel walls. "this is fucking ridiculous, i'm not your girlfriend, never fucking was." you spit your words out, arms dropping to your sides. "i'm not the only one who was cheating, you know? or did you forget that when you jumped on your high horse?" patrick's words are pointed, his body stepping closer towards you. "yeah, but i actually dumped my boyfriend! for you, patrick!"

he doesn't know how, he doesn't remember telling his body to move, but he definitely doesn't mind that it did. his hands are cupped around your face, his lips smashed into yours. you push yourself off of him, looking into his eyes before immediately crashing your lips back onto his. it's messy, tongues slipping over each others, your hands grabbing at the fabric around his waist. "tell me you want me." patrick mumbles into your mouth, his hands moving to grip at the hairs on your scalp. a grumble falls from you, your tongue pushing further into patrick's mouth before he pulls your head away by your hair. forcing your eyes to look to his, his fist balled around your hair. "tell me you fucking want me." you want to punch the smirk off his face, your breath heavy as you stare into his half-lidded eyes. "i want you." he pulls your head back further. "tell me again." your mouth agape, a quiet whimper escaping you. "i want you." you moan out, his grip loosening as his lips attach to yours again, only parting to pull your t-shirt over your head. "good girl." he whispers, as your fingers pull his shirt off his body. it's moments before patrick reaches down, hooking your thighs under his grip, lifting you up and walking over to the bed. his lips only detaching from yours when he throws your body down onto the mattress. patrick's eyes are dark as he crawls over your body, his lips kissing up from your stomach before he reaches your neck. propped up on your elbows as his mouth nips and sucks at the base of your neck, quiet hums of pleasure from you rush to his ears like it's the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. "missed your skin." he mumbles against your jaw, wrapping his lips around your earlobe. "shut up." you groan, your head angling to expose more of your neck to him.

"oh, you wanna be a little brat do you?" his evil smirk shows again, fingers digging into the sides of your wrists as he pins them up above your head. he manoeuvres to capture your wrists with one of his hands as the other pushes your shorts down to your knees, slipping his hand into your panties, groaning as he feels your wetness. using his knee to push your legs apart, your shorts bunching at your ankles as you free your feet from the pool of fabric. "so wet for me already." he teases, his fingers sliding through your folds as he starts circling your clit. patrick's mouth sucking on the skin of your collarbone as you struggle trying to free your arms from his grip. all he does is push your wrists further into the mattress, his fingers digging into your skin. his eyes glare into yours as he watches every expression you make, not daring to look away as the pace of his fingers speeds up. "mmm, so close," you mumble, your back arching before patrick rips his fingers away, letting go of your wrists at the same time. "what the fuck." you grumble, a slight pout on your lips, only causing an evil chuckle from patrick. "you don't get to cum until i'm inside you." he smirks, ripping your panties down your legs before standing up to pull his shorts down his legs along with his underwear. "you're so fucking annoying." you continue complaining as patrick crawls over your body again, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "why are you so desperate to fuck me then?"

your mouth opens to reply, words inching out as patrick's hand wraps around your throat. "shut the fuck up." he smirks, his fingers digging into the sides of your neck as you fight for breath. your hand moves to grip as his wrist, watching as patrick lets a glob of spit drip from his mouth down onto your cunt. sitting himself up on his knees, your thighs resting against his as his free hand drifts to rub his cock against you. smearing his spit into your wetness, teasing your entrance as he pushes himself in an inch. your head pushing back into the mattress, eyes fluttering closed as you attempt to ask him for more. "look at me." he orders, his eyes dark and half-lidded as you eventually look to him. "good girl." he groans as he slides himself in fully. patrick finally removes his hand from your throat, moving to squeeze the flesh of your thighs as he fucks you without mercy. his nails cutting into your skin as moans echo around the room, his body falling on top of yours as you clench around him. his forehead pressed against yours, open mouthed kisses pressed to your jaw. your arms wrapped around his body, clawing at his shoulder blades as your legs move to trap his body against yours. sucking bruises onto patrick's neck as his hips smash against yours repeatedly. he groans as he slides out you, flipping your body over and pulling your ass up against him. barely being able to register what's happened by the time his cock slides into you again, scrambling to prop yourself up onto all fours. thwaccckkkk! the sound of his open palm against your ass sends a shiver down your arching spine, as loud moans escape your throat. patrick spanks the flesh of your ass again before grabbing a handful of your hair, pulling your chest up closer to his body. patrick's grunts fill your ears as the hand on your ass reaches below you, his fingers drawing circles against your clit. his teeth nipping at the skin on your shoulder as he pulls you closer, your back flush against his chest. patrick can tell you're close to the edge, feeling the way you clench around him and the volume of your moans getting louder.

"cum for me baby, be a good little girl and cum for me." patrick mumbles against your skin, licking the skin of your neck. his words force you to let go, an almost scream leaving your lips as your body nearly crumbles at the sensation. patrick's grip on your hair keeping you upright, humming into your neck. he lets you ride out your high before pushing your chest down into the mattress, his big hands gripping at the sides of your body under your arms as he fastens his pace. your face near enough buried in the mattress as you turn to try and look up to him behind you, patrick groaning louder as you do. "so fucking pretty like this." he murmurs, nails digging into your flesh as he slams his hips against your ass once more, filling your insides with his load. "jesus fucking christ." patrick groans as his body falls flat on top of you, panting as he places sloppy kisses to your back. feeling his load start to drip down you as he slides out and falls to the side of you.

your bodies are bruised and scratched, staring into each others eyes as you both attempt to return your breathing to a normal pace. patrick leans over, kissing your lips sweetly as you manoeuvre onto your side. "i take it that means you and jack aren't a thing, right? or did you just cheat on another boyfriend?" patrick almost laughs at himself, as you swat his arm. "you're such an asshole." you laugh, shaking your head at him. this is what he'd missed. your laugh, the way you looked at him, you being the only person in the world who could put him in his place. the way you put up with him, how you always knew what to say. moving to brush his curls off his forehead, letting your fingers rest against his cheek, slowly caressing his skin. "i meant what i said, that i just want you." patrick whispers, his hand snaking around your waist, pulling you closer to him. "i know." you smile, your thumb still rubbing back and forth on his face. the silence is comfortable, eyes locked on each other, peaceful. waking up the next morning, it's as though everything has fallen back into place. patrick joins you training, returns to his regular position opposite you on the practise courts. there's no conversations about your relationship, patrick's too scared to ask. too scared to question, he doesn't want to risk pushing you away again.

thwaccckkkk! sitting in the box with patrick's coaches and the rest of his team, watching patrick play in his first final of his professional career. you'd unfortunately been knocked out during the semi-finals, meaning the rest of your time during the tournament was spent helping patrick prepare. you could tell patrick was nervous, despite no one else picking up on it. to the average eye, he was calm, playing as chaotically controlled as usual. sweat was dripping from every inch of his skin, his black tank stuck to his chest as he rolled the racket between his hands. patrick was a set up against his opponent, he'd won six games to four. his eyes glance over to the box, listening to his coach's advice, letting his eyes wander to you as he does. the silence is almost eery, not that he wasn't used to it during matches, but the silence before serves is when he really considers his surroundings. he's in the final, his first final. he's a set up, he could actually win this. you're a wreck, anxiously watching from the stands as patrick wins another game. a smirk rushes onto your face, watching patrick hit a tweener, to win the match. jumping up to your feet with his team as the crowd erupts. it's as though patrick doesn't register it, until he looks at you. his racket drops from his hands, falling onto his knees, letting the wash of emotion rush over him. he shakes his opponent's hand before security bring him through the crowd to his team. engulfed in hugs by his coaches, shouting how proud they are of him before he escapes their grip. moving down to you, his arms wrapping around you as he lifts you up to the air. "i knew you'd win." you giggle into his ear as he places you down onto the ground, his teethy grin not leaving his face. his hands stay wrapped around you as his lips crash into yours, in the middle of the crowd, in front of cameras from every angle. "i can't believe you just did that." you smile, blush creeping onto your cheeks as you feel every set of eyes on you. "what? i can't kiss my girl after winning my first title?" patrick chuckles, hands pulling you flush against him. "oh, your girl, huh?" you laugh, hands snaking around his neck, his lips grazing yours as he speaks. "you know you're mine."

[itneverendshere]

pogue reader getting sick but she can’t call out, but rafes fr mad at you about it

don't want less, don't want more - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

changed it a bit just bc i want to show reader's progress regarding her hyper-independence, they're already dating and past the "i love you" phase, i felt like some progress had to be made by this point, especially bc this is after their big fight in this. hope you enjoy <3

The floor beneath you feels like it's tilting, moving under your feet like a boat rocking on rough water. You blink a couple of times, hoping that’ll shake the haze taking over your vision, but it doesn’t do much. 

The bar lights over your head are too bright, and the music thumping from the speakers makes your head feel like it’s trapped in a vice. The clink of glass, every laugh, every order shouted at you feels like a hammer driving nails straight into your skull.

You swallow hard, trying not to gag. Your throat’s raw, and your chest feels tight, but you’re powering through it because you don’t have much of a choice. Not a choice at all.

"Whiskey sour, extra sour!" some country club douchebag yells from the other side of the bar.

His voice is like nails on a chalkboard. You force a smile and nod, reaching for the bottle, but your hands are shaky. You catch yourself on the edge of the bar before you can drop it.

This morning, you could barely get out of bed. Fever burning through you like you were standing too close to a bonfire, throat too sore to talk, and your head pounding so hard you thought you were going to pass out just brushing your teeth. 

You tried calling in. Tried. Told your manager, Greg, that you were sick as hell, couldn’t make it, but the guy just grunted like he always does. "Can’t afford anyone calling out today," he said. Like the world was going to end if you didn’t show up to sling drinks for a bunch of rich assholes.

So here you are.

You rub the back of your neck, trying to loosen up some of the tension building there, but it doesn’t help. Nothing really does at this point.

"Hey!" The guy who ordered the whiskey sour snaps his fingers in your face. "You deaf or something? Whiskey. Sour."

"Got it," You mutter, trying not to let your voice crack as you finally pour his drink. 

Your vision swims a little as you set it down in front of him, and for a second, you think you might actually faint right here at the bar.

That’d be something. Faceplant into a bunch of overpriced cocktails in front of half of the Kooks on this island. Greg would probably just step over you and ask you to get back to work.

You lean against the bar for a second. Your stomach rolls, threatening to revolt, but you choke it back. You can’t afford to be sick here. Not when you’re already in trouble with your manager for barely making it on time. You think back to the half-assed breakfast you tried to eat—if you can call a slice of toast breakfast—and how your stomach rejected it like poison.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Rafe coming in. And suddenly, you’re even more aware of how wrecked you are.

You know he still struggles with how independent you are sometimes. You’ve always been the kind of girl who handles things on her own, and Rafe has this tendency to think that means you don’t need him.

Today, though? You need him more than ever, but you couldn’t bring yourself to call for help.

You immediately know it’s gonna be a thing.

His eyes lock onto you from across the bar, and even through the fog in your head, you can see that look on his face. He’s pissed. Of course, he’s pissed. His jaw’s clenched like he’s biting back whatever rant he’s about to drop on you, and you can already feel the tension creeping up your neck.

Great, as if you didn’t feel bad enough already.

You try to stand a little straighter, look a little less like you're one second from collapsing, but your legs are jelly, and the room’s still spinning like you’re on some messed-up carnival ride.

You don’t want him to see how bad you’re hurting right now. But today? You’re too out of it to even try and explain.

He strides up to the bar, looking sharp, as usual. Meanwhile, you probably look like death warmed over. His eyes are scanning you, taking in the pale face, the way you’re gripping the edge of the bar like you’re about to keel over. You see his lips tighten, and yeah, he’s definitely about to lay into you.

“You didn’t call,” he says, voice low but definitely annoyed. He leans in, trying to keep this between just the two of you, but with how loud the bar is, it still feels like a confrontation.

“I’m fine,” you lie, forcing a smile that probably looks more like a grimace. 

Rafe’s eyes narrow. He’s not buying it. “You look like you’re about to pass out. Why didn’t you call me?”

You hate that you feel guilty.

“Because I’m handling it,” you say, voice softer now. But even you can hear how weak you sound.

It’s not convincing. Hell, you’re not even convinced.

He crosses his arms, looking down at you like you’re a puzzle he can’t figure out. “Handling it? Baby, you can barely stand.”

You let out a sigh, trying not to let it turn into a cough.

"I’m fine," you repeat, but even you know it sounds pathetic at this point. Your head feels like it's full of cotton, you’re not sure if you’ll make it through the next few minutes, let alone your entire shift.

But pride’s a bitch.

Rafe just stands there, arms crossed, staring at you like he’s waiting for you to come clean. You can feel his frustration, but there’s something else, too. Worry. It’s in the way his eyes keep flicking over your face, how his fingers are tapping against his arm like he’s holding himself back from just scooping you up and carrying you out of here.

"I heard from Topper," he finally says, like he’s been holding that card in his back pocket. You blink, trying to keep up. "He saw you at the club earlier, said you didn’t look right."

Great. Freaking Topper. Of course, idiot couldn’t mind his own business. You can almost picture him, all dressed up in some preppy golf outfit, spotting you from across the course and making a note to text Rafe the second he saw something off.

Rafe’s still watching you, waiting for a reaction.

You open your mouth, trying to come up with some excuse, some way to brush it off, but your brain’s too foggy, and all you manage is a weak, "I was fine then."

He raises an eyebrow. "Yeah? 'Cause Top said you looked like you were about to hurl on the 9th hole." He’s trying to keep his voice low, but you can tell he’s annoyed. Not at Topper, not even really at you—just at the whole situation.

You want to snap back, tell him you’re fine, that you’ve got it under control. But instead, all that comes out is another tired sigh. “Greg wouldn’t let me call out. Said they needed me.”

“You serious?”

“Dead-serious.”

Rafe’s jaw clenches so tight you think you hear his teeth grind. His hands come out of his pockets, flexing like he’s about to hit something—or someone. He runs a hand through his hair like he’s trying to calm himself down before he says something he’ll regret.

But you know him—he’s never been great at holding back when he’s pissed. And right now? He’s definitely pissed.

“Greg said that?” His voice is low, but there’s this dangerous edge to it, like he’s two seconds away from losing it, “You should’ve called me. I would’ve come down here, I would’ve—”

“I know.” You cut him off because you do know.

He would’ve dropped everything and come running. That’s exactly why you didn’t call. You didn’t want to be the a burden again. Like you said, you’re still working on yourself.

Rafe leans against the bar, his whole body radiating this intensity that makes you feel both comforted and nervous.

“So, let me get this straight,” he says, voice louder now, not even bothering to keep it low-key anymore. “You’re sick as hell, and that asshole wouldn’t let you stay home?”

You wince. He’s drawing attention now, people at the bar starting to glance over. You hate seeing him like this, but you don’t have the energy to smooth things over.

“Rafe, please—” you start, but he cuts you off.

“No, seriously. What kind of fucking manager forces someone to come in when they’re this sick?” His voice carries, and a couple of the other bartenders are giving you looks, like they can’t decide if they’re more surprised or impressed by Rafe’s audacity, "You’re killing yourself for this job, and he doesn’t give a fuck.”

You glance toward the back, hoping Greg’s still in the office and not witnessing this meltdown. The last thing you need right now is more heat from him. But of course, your luck sucks, because just as Rafe’s ramping up, Greg strides out from the back, clipboard in hand, that same stupid scowl on his face like he’s already annoyed at everything.

Rafe spots him instantly, and if you thought he was mad before, now he’s on a whole other level.

"Greg!" Rafe calls out, loud enough that half the bar turns to look. Your stomach sinks. This is about to get ugly.

Greg stops dead in his tracks, his eyes flicking to Rafe and then back to you. He knows. He knows exactly what’s about to happen, and he’s already losing the upper hand.

“Yeah, Rafe?” Greg’s voice is weak, almost shaky. Like he’s trying to keep it together, but he knows he’s got no chance. Rafe’s family literally owns half the island—Greg’s just some middle manager with too much attitude.

Your boyfriend steps forward, slow and deliberate, closing the space between them like he’s already won this thing.

“You made her come in today?” His voice is calm, but it’s that scary kind of calm that’s worse than yelling. The kind that makes your stomach drop because you know the person holding it together is barely holding back.

Greg opens his mouth to respond, but all that comes out is this pathetic mumble. “We… we were short-staffed.”

Rafe raises an eyebrow, his lips pulling into this cold, humorless smile. “Short-staffed?” He glances at you, and you feel the heat rising in your cheeks. You really didn’t want this to turn into a scene, but here you are. “You see how she looks right now? You made her come in like this?”

Greg’s eyes flick back and forth between you and Rafe, and you can see the panic starting to set in. He’s sweating now, probably realizing that this little power trip he’s on is about to bite him in the ass. “She didn’t… uh… say she couldn’t work…”

“She told you she was sick,” Rafe cuts him off, voice like steel. “You’re the manager, right? Thought that meant taking care of your staff. Guess I was wrong.”

Greg’s mouth opens and closes like he’s trying to think of something to say, but nothing’s coming. He looks like a deer caught in headlights, knowing any move he makes right now could get him fired. Hell, maybe even blacklisted from every job on the island. The Cameron’s have that kind of pull.

“I-I didn’t realize how bad it was,” Greg finally stammers, but even he doesn’t sound convinced by his own excuse.

Rafe takes another step forward, practically towering over Greg now. “You didn’t realize?” He laughs, but there’s no warmth in it. “Look at her, man. How could you not realize?”

You wince as the room seems to get quieter, everyone watching this power struggle unfold. You’d rather be anywhere but here right now, but you also know that Rafe’s not letting this slide.

Greg takes a step back, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. 

“I-I was just trying to keep things running. We… we were slammed.”

Rafe’s smile drops, and now it’s just pure ice. “You think that’s a good enough reason to put my girlfriend’s health at risk?”

Greg looks like he’s about to pass out himself at this point, but he manages to mutter, “No… no, I—I didn’t mean…”

“Here’s the deal, Greg,” Rafe says, voice low but dangerous. “You’re gonna back off. Let her finish this shift if she wants. If she doesn’t? She’s out, no questions asked. And next time, when she says she’s sick, you listen.”

Greg nods so fast it’s like his head’s on a swivel. “Of course, of course, Rafe. I didn’t mean any disrespect. I just—”

“Good,” Rafe interrupts, already turning away like he’s done with this conversation. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

Greg just stands there, wide-eyed and frozen, clearly too scared to even argue. He stammers some half-hearted apology, but Rafe’s already turning back to you, brushing the whole thing off like it was nothing.

You look up at him, still in shock at how quickly Greg folded. “You really didn’t need to do that.”

He shrugs, leaning back against the bar with that easy confidence he always has. “Yeah, I did,” he says, his tone softening now that it’s just the two of you. “I’m not gonna let some nobody push you around like that.”

You sigh, feeling both relieved and slightly embarrassed. “You know he’s probably gonna hate me even more now.”

Rafe smirks, like that’s the least of his concerns. “Who cares? He won’t say a fuckin’ thing. Trust me.”

“Everyone’s going to say a thing, baby. They’re gonna think I have some kind of privilege because I’m dating you.”

Rafe’s smirk softens. He steps a little closer, lowering his voice so only you can hear him over the dull roar of the bar.

“Let them think whatever they want,” he says, his hand brushing against yours. “You’ve been busting your ass here long before I ever stepped in. Nobody can take that from you.”

You bite your lip, feeling everyone’s eyes on you, judgment and curiosity. He’s right in a way—you’ve been working extra hard. But still, it’s hard to ignore the feeling that now, everyone’s going to assume you’ve got some special treatment just because of Rafe’s name.

“It’s not about that,” you murmur, “I just—don’t want people thinking I can’t stand on my own. I don’t want to be the girl who hides behind her boyfriend’s power.”

Rafe tilts his head, studying you with that look he always gives when he knows you're holding back.

“You think that’s what this is?” His voice is steady, his tone a little softer now. “This wasn’t about power, baby. This was about someone treating you like you didn’t matter. And I’m not letting anyone—anyone—do that to you.”

He’s not wrong.

Greg didn’t give a damn about how sick you were, only about keeping the bar running, like you were replaceable. And you hate how right Rafe is, how much you needed someone to step in, even if it makes you feel a little helpless. You swallow hard, the tightness in your chest easing slightly, though your body still feels like it’s been run over by a truck.

“And you’re not working anymore today, or the next week for that matter. You’re gonna get your ass in my car and we’re going to the doctor.”

You nod, knowing there’s no arguing with Rafe when he’s like this, but part of you still feels guilty.

Not for needing help exactly, but for not being able to handle it all on your own. You've always been the girl who grits her teeth and gets through it, but today? Your body is screaming at you that you just can’t. Not anymore.

Rafe’s watching you closely, like he’s waiting for you to argue, but you don’t. You’re too drained. The adrenaline from the confrontation with Greg is wearing off, and now all you feel is this bone-deep exhaustion.

“I’m not going to a doctor,” you say, even though you know you probably should. “Just home. I just need to sleep.”

He narrows his eyes like he’s trying to read between the lines of what you’re saying, but then he just nods. “Fine. But if you’re not better by tomorrow, I’m dragging you to urgent care. No arguments.”

You give him a weak smile, trying to show you appreciate it even though you feel like crap.

“Deal.”

Without another word, he moves around the bar, ignoring Greg’s gawking and the way everyone’s still sneaking glances at you two. He gently takes the towel out of your hand, sets it on the counter, and slips an arm around your waist.

It’s the first time you’ve felt stable all day, leaning into him like you might actually make it to the car without collapsing.

“I don’t think I can afford an appointment.”

He looks at you like you’ve just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. His arm tightens around your waist, steadying you as you start to sway a little on your feet.

"Not worried about the money.”

You try to shake your head, but the movement makes you dizzy, and you stop, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

"I just don’t want to be that person, you know? Relying on you for everything."

He gives you a side glance, eyebrows raised.

"Baby, you’re not relying on me for everything. You’re literally sick, and I’m not about to let you tough it out just because you’re too stubborn to ask for help. We’ve talked about this a million times.”

"I guess," you mumble, letting your head rest against his shoulder as you walk towards the door.

"No guessing about it," he says, softer now, his fingers brushing your arm in a way that makes you feel more grounded. "You’ve been holding down the fort for too long. Let me take care of you for once."

The air outside hits you like a slap, but Rafe keeps you close, leading you toward his car. Your legs are weak, the fever still simmering under your skin, but his body warmth keeps you upright.

"Thanks," you whisper, even though it feels weird to say. You’re not used to thanking people for basic care, but with Rafe, it feels different.

He pauses, opening the passenger door for you.

"You don’t gotta thank me, okay? I’m just doing what anyone who loves you would do."

Your heart skips at that. You’re still not used to how easily he says stuff like that, like it’s no big deal. But he’s rubbing off on you, because you can say it just as easily now.

“I love you too, sorry for being a pain in your ass.”

Rafe chuckles as he helps you into the car, leaning down to make sure you’re settled before he shuts the door. He bends down and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"You're always a pain in my ass," he murmurs against your skin, grinning as he pulls back just enough to look at you. "But you’re my pain in the ass, and that’s what matters."

You can’t help but roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips despite how wrecked you feel. The fever, the headache, the exhaustion—it all takes a backseat, at least for a moment. 

Knowing Rafe’s always got your back? That makes it a little easier to breathe.

[eloquentlytired]

— when the time comes, part two

pairing: logan howlett x gn! reader

part one is here

drabble,fluff, wade is briefly here <3 and blind al (slay)

summary: perhaps logan’s wish to find you in a different timeline comes true. and this time he doesn't only find you, but wade as well.

author’s note: I was wondering if I should add laura somehow to this scene but I think it came out perfect like this! what if I make a part three for the dinner/table scene where they're all together with wade though enjoy babies !!! this low-key made me cryyy... as always reblogs & likes & conversations are sooo welcome ^_^

“this is logan.”

you turn around as wade’s voice echoes within the small apartment. you'd been roommates for a while since you both were struggling with rent and this sort of arrangement had been quite beneficial. your friendship with wade had flourished in no time and you had somehow managed to become less anxious with his help, always having silly laughs and finding nice things even in the toughest situations.

you begin moving away from the kitchen area as you hear a dialogue going on — wade, al and a voice that didn't remind you of anything.

“finally, sweet cheeks. thought i’d have to start a new pissing ritual for you to show up!” wade chimes while placing a hand on his hip and looking straight at you. Whatever follows after, it never reaches your ears.

you stand there frozen, spatula falling from your hands, as your gaze stares at the man behind wade. you don’t know him but at the same time you do. that messy hair, that beard and those eyes. whoever that man was, he must have felt what you were feeling as he also stills by wade’s side. the silence that follows is long and awkward for the others but not for you and this man; at least that's what wade points out and ruins the moment. “right. if you're done eye fucking each other — and by the way sweet cheeks I thought we had something special — but yes if you're done..” wade walks towards you and gently pushes the goofiest dog ever in your hands. what the fuck?

“—I have a bath to run. gotta get those pores unclogged before my big party.” you tried to protest but wade was already gone and al was leaving as well, muttering something about holy sugar time.

the pair of eyes across you never leave yours. you stare back at the strange man named logan; at least that's what you'd heard wade call him. “I...nice to meet you.” you finally whisper while slowly setting the dog down, your hand instinctively reaching towards logan. the taller man leans forward as well and holds your hand, shaking it in the process. “i’m logan. thanks for having me.” he murmurs and for a man his size, you didn't anticipate such simplicity and gentleness in his voice. your eyes fill with unshed tears and for an unknown reason logan reaches out to wipe them away before they stain your cheeks. you shudder at the strange familiarity of those warm digits upon your skin. logan swallows thickly. “do I know you?” he asks and you look at him with wide, sparkly eyes. you were the prettiest thing he'd ever seen. “it feels like it, doesn't it?” was the only reply you could offer him as he nods.

a moment passes. then two. logan drops his hand from your face, realizing the boundaries he's crossing. not that you really minded his touch. you quickly compose yourself and wipe the remaining wetness from your face before shifting your gaze in between logan and the kitchen.

“are- are you hungry,logan?” you suddenly ask, your voice kind of shaky.

the surprise on his face lasts briefly before a small but genuine smile settles on his features. “yeah. starving actually.” you chuckle. he does too.

as logan follows you into the kitchen, and despite wade’s awful singing coming from the bathroom, you think about the cheapest bed you can buy tomorrow for the third addition in your family.

[tangerinelovez]

How do you think OT7 Dream would comfort you after a bad day?

Mark: When Mark comes home from a day of work and sees you on the couch sad and quiet, not at all like your normal self, his face quirks up in shock. Your eyes are on him as he awkwardly looks around the room, rubbing his arm, looking as if he’s unsure what to do. After a few beats of silence, he meets your eyes and sits down next to you.

“How was your day?” He asks, looking at you with soft brown eyes. He listens intently and offers emotional support for a few minutes before diving into some solutions and advice. You notice his sentences are a little disjointed or rambling, but he definitely got some good points across and brought up new perspectives you hadn't considered.

"No, yeah, like, she was totally... uh... over the line for asking you to stay late to finish that report... like, she totally put you in a weird spot, y'know, given the fact she asked if you'd do it in front of so many people, you know? you don't... you can't deal with that kinda thing." You nod, feeling your frustrations dissipate as he continues to be the picture perfect supportive boyfriend… albeit a bit rambly. His talents definitely lie in making sure you feel heard, and like all of your concerns are so valid. He's an amazing listener who reassuringly holds your hand and gently strokes your thumb with his own as you talk and he offers his best reassuring words. Even if he somehow loses his train of thought along the way, he always brings it back home. He's the sweetest boyfriend you could ever ask for and you love the way he takes your mind off things... when he offers to get you your favorite takeout, you squeak out a "No, it's ok, I'm fine. We have leftovers."

He calls you from the restaurant to ask what exactly it is you like from their menu because he just wants to be 100% sure he gets your order right (and that they don't forget your sauces...) Would totally be the type to bring home way too much food, sheepishly saying, "Hey, you deserve it.... it's been a long day for you... not that you have to have a bad day to like, get good food, but i'm seizing this opportunity to make my girlfriend smile."

Yes, he did scrunch up his free hand that isn't holding copious bags of take-out while saying that sentence... and yes, you do laugh. When he sits back down on the couch next to you, you can't help but smile over how he instantly puts on some cheesy show for you both to watch while you eat your giant meals. "Mark... we're going to be eating these leftovers for days..." You say, but even as you say it, you're a bit shocked to realize nearly all the fries are gone.

Your eyes meet in shock, and you double over in laughter over the fact you both have been so absorbed in the stupid happenings of the reality TV show... you just kept eating.

With full bellies, you'd lay down on the couch and cuddle... laughing over the fact at least your problems aren't as bad as the poor girls on the crappy reality TV show... and you're lucky enough to have an amazing boyfriend who'd do anything to make you feel loved <3

Haechan: When you'd text him to let him know your day isn't going that well, Haechan would be the type to immediately get mad on your behalf as if someone had insulted his honor to the highest degree. Like... if you're having a bad day because of something somebody said to you or did to you, best believe you'd have to pull him back from confronting that person. His chaotic and over-the-top insistence on getting as involved as possible makes you feel really loved... Although he is a bit dramatic, you have to admit it's a nice change from the previous nonchalant busters you had dated who had no real interest in protecting your wellbeing. This man would spam your phone with stupid Instagram reels and bad puns in hopes your mood would improve slightly.

When he's finally with you in person, it would take a natural disaster to get him off of you. He would douse you in kisses and nearly crush your ribcage with a tight hug. He'd totally be the type to dramatically look out the window and declare you're letting those bitches win if you don't make the best of the rest of the day. he'd walk you around the neighborhood for a bit, an arm slung over your shoulder, and would just take in the scenery with you, feeling that your quietness was more out of contentedness than anything else.

Although he can sometimes be a lot, he has a huge heart and will always do his best to read the room and figure out what you need... while still encouraging you to sometimes do things that make you a bit uncomfortable... Hey, he was right about how good a walk outside can be for mental health and gaining perspective! you should trust him.

he'd claim he had no real route in mind for your neighborhood walk, and yet, you'd somehow conveniently end up at your favorite mom-and-pop restaurant. he'd feign shock, looking between you and the restaurant a few times before saying, "Destiny led us here... come on, the universe is saying your boyfriend needs to buy you a couple pan-fried dumplings. Who are we to say no?"

Once you're sitting down at the restaurant, you'd finally begin spilling more details about what was bothering you, and to his credit, he would listen quite well, only interrupting a few times to express his annoyance with your classmates over not carrying their weight on the project. With a belly of pan-fried dumplings and noodles, you walk back to your apartment with Haechan, grateful to have a boyfriend who lets you vent at your own pace, and doesn't force you to share ... even if it sometimes kills him to wait to hear who is at faultRenjun: Renjun is the type to immediately discern when something is wrong with you, even if you try your very best to hide it. As soon as he'd come home and lay eyes on you, staring straight ahead on the couch in the living room, his gaze would soften and he'd say, "hey sweetheart... you okay?" to which you'd nod before tears would suddenly well up, causing him to drop everything in his hands and rush over to you.

He'd sit next to you on the couch and pull you close to his side, wrapping both arms around you and rocking you gently as you cry. He'd sit there with you quietly for as long as it would take for you to calm down, quietly humming as the two of you sway slightly, his hand softly combing through your hair. Eventually, you'd shakily exhale and lift your head from his shoulder, maneuvering yourself on the couch to face him. He'd shift slightly, as well, ensuring that you could see his full attention is on you. He'd listen intently as the words suddenly come spilling forth. After telling him all about your bad day and what has been bothering you, you can count on Renjun to get right down to solutions. Though he's a super caring boyfriend, the man would believe that the way to truly help you feel better would be to attack the issues head-on rather than just offering you emotional support. However, he always speaks to you very calmly and sweetly, never talking over you. After discussing possible solutions for a while, I think he'd be the type to say, "Well, there's not much else we can do right now, so maybe let's just take your mind off of all that for tonight? And tomorrow, you can talk to your friend about some of your concerns." You love the way he makes big, all-consuming feelings and events feel smaller by breaking it down piece-by-piece and ensuring you never feel like these issues are yours to bear alone.

He'd totally be the type to say something cheesy like "the first duty of love is to listen" He'd be so honored that you shared your troubles with him and trust his advice so much, would instantly shush you if you tried to apologize for crying and ruining your night together.

"Your worries are my worries... I swear sometimes you worry me with how low your bar is for treatment from others... but hopefully it's raising everyday we're together." After all that talking... and crying... and laughing, he'd make some popcorn, crack open your favorite soda, and put on the one movie you've watched every time you've been sad. And he wouldn't even make fun of you when you'd recite all the lines along with the characters dutifully. Jeno:When you come back from school, overwhelmed by the workload of your graduate-level courses, Jeno would listen intently to all your issues, nodding and sighing at the appropriate times, making you start to find amusement in his display of active listening. This man would definitely take all his cues from you and adapt appropriately. If you're angry... then he is boiling mad, too. Madder than you are, actually. If you just don't want to talk about it any more, he would definitely respect that, and start cycling through your favorite topics to try and boost your mood.

No matter what, he would insist on being by your side and doing whatever it is that you want to do, repetitively asking if there's anything else he can do for you. He'd shyly pepper your hairline and temple with kisses, smiling against your head softly when he'd feel you laugh. He'd definitely be all over you, cuddling you on the bed to the best of his ability as he throws out different activities you could do to feel better. "Do you want to paint something?" A slight head shake from you tells him you're not really in the mood for anything crafty... but maybe you could be convinced. "Hmm... would you wanna go out for dinner, baby?" It's silent for a few seconds before you say, "Hmm... maybe...."

The arm he has around your neck is comforting, but as he moves it to scratch his chest absentmindedly, you feel like the comforting embrace is slightly choking.

Thankfully, he stops his scratching and sighs, staring at the ceiling before he tosses out his next suggestion. "Okay... how about... we go to that one grocery store you really love, get all the ingredients for homemade pizza... AND any other snacks you want? and your loyal samoyed will happily buy them all for you?"

suddenly feeling a burst of energy over the prospect of wandering the aisles of your favorite fancy grocery store and being silly and creative in the kitchen with Jeno, before relaxing on the couch together to laugh over some stupid movie, you curl into his side excitedly.

"Yeah, that sounds amazing..." Now you're the one peppering him with kisses, from the mole below his eye to the tip of his nose, feeling so happy that you have such a patient and sweet man who shows you how he cares through actions. "You can just wear my sweatshirt, too. No need to change." Is it possible to be any more in love? I guess you'll find out when the night's over.

Jaemin: Jaemin runs an aggressive campaign in turning your frown upside down. "Baby.... what's wrong...?" Jaemin's deep voice would warble out of the phone as you try to steady yourself in the bathroom at work.

"Ugh, it's... it's nothing. I'm just frustrated. I shouldn't have called, I know you're busy..."

He'd huff, the pfft somehow coming through the speaker with just as much sass as it would in person. "What is it I always say when you start pulling this nonsense?"

You exhale, glad there is no chance anyone can come in the single-occupancy restroom and hear your boyfriend giving you a pep talk over the phone.

"'You're wasting both of our times because I'm not going anywhere until you talk?"'

Jaemin's tinny voice exclaims in frustration over the phone. "Baby, no, the other thing."

You hum in understanding. "'Tough times don't last but you will?'"

He groans again. "Damn, I say way too many things, all so wise and encouraging. No, baby, 'a problem shared is a problem halved.' That's what I always so wisely say to encourage you."

You'd nod, finding amusement in just how many idioms seem to come spewing out of him. After talking to him on the phone for a bit, you'd find the strength to leave the bathroom and finish your day at work. When you finally make it home, Jaemin would hug you at the door, and gently ask how the rest of the day went, offering emotional support and advice as you saw fit. However... his biggest way of making you smile after a hard day would definitely be taking you to a late night movie and stuffing his cargo pants and hoodie with all the snacks you could ever want. He'd even go as far as to throw some cans of soda into a blanket before excitedly tucking it under his arm, urging you to get in the car so you can go snuggle at the theater with all the smuggled snacks you could ever desire. You'd cuddle up to each other, grateful it was a reclining seat theater, and that nobody else seemed to want to see this weeks-old movie at 11:00 pm on a Wednesday other than the two of you. After the movie, he'd take you on a drive around the city, playing your favorite music lowly, his hand on your thigh, allowing you to talk as you saw fit, but mostly just content with the silence, knowing the soft smile on your face was genuine. And when you fall asleep in the car? he'd drive around for a few more minutes, softly singing along to the music and gently stroking your leg as he did so.

And yeah... he'd carry you inside and shush all the cats before they'd even get a chance to meow.

And when you wake up the next day, terrified you're gonna be late for work? He's already awake, cooking breakfast :) best boyfriend in the world award loading... Chenle:Chenle is a straight-forward man. When he realized you were answering his texts after several hours with short replies, he knew action needed to be taken.

He'd call you, and after your sniffly "hullo?" would know all he needs to. Nothing would stop that man from instantly booking it to your location, which just so happened to be the parking lot of your job.

He'd park right next to your car, and tap on the passenger window gently, prompting you to unlock the door for him.

"(Y/N), what's wrong? Was it that one girl from yoga? The stupid ass girl in HR? Tell me," He'd say, taking his hands in yours, causing you to shift in your seat slightly and face him.

"I-I don't even know, Chenle. It's just everything today... one thing after the other." After showing him your cracked phone screen and broken nail, he examines your hand more carefully, turning it over with great scrutiny. 

"Um... what, Chenle?" “This color was ugly anyways…” He mutters before looking up at you. “Get in my car, we have to go.”

You look at him in shock, still a little annoyed and frustrated. “What?”

He huffs, voice unwavering and face firm. “Get. In. The. Car.” 

Suddenly he beams. “I’m taking you to get your nails redone. And in a cuter color…”

You feel a blush coming on over his insistence. “Oh, no, Chenle, it’s fine, really–”

“Stop. It’s already done. And I need you to get moving. While you’re getting your nails done, I have to make it to this appointment… you like silver, right?”

Your eyes widen in shock as you sit down in the passenger seat of Chenle’s car. “Chenle, you’re not getting me a new phone.”

Chenle laughs, shaking his head slightly. “Nobody said anything about getting you a new phone…you materialistic woman…” 

When you get picked up from your nail appointment, (which Chenle Zelle’d you the money for, plus a little extra because of “girlfriend tax”), you not only have a new latest-model silver iPhone but also a new pair of silver hoops.

You just love the way he spoils you while simultaneously keeping you on your toes. Life is never boring with him, and he never hesitates to make you feel special in his own way. 

Would definitely finish the day off by dramatically performing all of your favorite songs he normally finds really cheesy and annoying (he wants to put a smile on your face today, okay? Don’t get used to it) 

Jisung:He knows you sometimes need your space, so he’d want to feel out what the right move is. When he feels like you’re having a bad day, Jisung would first talk to you about all of your favorite topics enthusiastically, hoping it would pique your interest and cheer you up… if that was unsuccessful… he would dive deep into his trove of secrets and tell you about embarrassing things he’s done that he’s forced the other boys to hide from you (which is no easy feat seeing as they love to tell you about dumb things he has done).

“So… you just… ran away?” You say, your chest feeling lighter as you laugh.

“Well… I just felt so awkward… my voice crack echoed around the room so loudly…I knew that Haechan would be talking about it for the rest of the week.”

You laugh some more, thinking of how he must have had that cute embarrassed look on his face when it happened.

“Honestly, probably the rest of my life.” 

A cute blush would appear on his features, making you feel compelled to snuggle even closer to him, the scent of his soft hoodie doing wonders in improving your mood.

You would quietly talk on the couch for a while before Jisung would start showering you in shy compliments, telling you how much he loves your hair and your outfit, before finally asking how you could have possibly had a bad day when you look this good.

Now you’d blush, hiding your face in his hands when he looks at you with his sparkly eyes. 

“Don’t you have rehearsal now?” You’d ask and he’d shrug, looking at the time quickly before looking back at you.

“I can be late. I don’t want to go just yet.”

You’d snuggle in deeper and feel 1000x better knowing he’ll always be there when you’re feeling down.

[squinch-depraved]

I was watching a chuckle sammy episode today and there was a part where Schlatt said he would hire a hot secretary just to keep him company. I'd love a story about that if you're willing.

The episode is the zodiac one the part I'm referring to is exactly 1 hour in.

this is reallllly yummy i hope i did it justice for you

it was supposed to be just a joke. just a bit for the podcast, a few sentences about hiring an attractive secretary and nothing more. but they stuck in schlatt's mind and hung heavy over him for the rest of that night. he really was lonely. and ted had a point, hiring someone to just be around (and look pretty) was looking like a better and better idea every second. so he finished off his bottle of benedictine, not that there was much left, and tossed it to the side, stretching out further on the couch while he pulled out his phone and set to work searching for an assistant.

it wasn't long before ted heard about his search, and the two men bantered in a call for a few minutes about it before the older of the two stopped his jokes to suggest, "no, but for real though, i have a friend who just moved back to new york, you might remember her, she was on the set for this past chuckle week helping in the background. y/n?"

schlatt's pupils dilated and he took in a breath. "yeah, i remember her," he replied coolly. "thought she was in school though?" he played with something on his desk.

ted lit up. "yeah, she's studying, but i'm sure she'd be willing to work something out with you." his voice was laced with knowing. he had seen the way schlatt sized you up the first time he laid eyes on you, the way he could never meet your gaze and how he always looked to you first when he made a joke. "i'll send you her info, you should reach out, man. she'll be happy to hear from you."

that last line was the only reason schlatt did it. he cursed himself for letting ted convince him now that you were here in front of him. you had been invited to a coffee shop to discuss the job details, and when you finally showed up, he looked incredibly uncomfortable sitting at a small table. but you sat down in front of him, smiling up at him and pushing your glasses up on your nose.

"hi schlatt!" you greeted him, reaching out to shake his hand. he gripped you a bit too hard and grimaced when you made a small noise, shaking your hand out when he let go. "thank you so much for the opportunity, i was really worried i wouldn't be able to find a good job for a while with my school going on and everything."

he nodded hastily and pushed a pastry he ordered for you towards you on the table. you smiled and yanked it towards you, beginning to eat as he spoke. "basically, i just need you to get any random tasks i need done, done. just, paperwork, if there ever is any, usually it's all digital, uhh, anything that slips through the cracks. i just need someone to be there and make sure my shit is taken care of."

you raised a brow. "sounds like you need more than an assistant," you responded with a smirk. his face reddened and he looked away, trying to shove down the thoughts of why you were really here. you were making a joke, but it wasn't funny to him. not when you didn't know you were right.

"shit, i'm sorry schlatt, i didn't mean to insult you-"

"'s fine. not insulted. i need you in the office whenever i'm there, sometimes i get work done at my apartment, so here's a key to both. feel free to get your own shit done whenever you're working unless i need you doing something. pay's fifty an hour. can you start today?" he slaps two keys down onto the table as well as two addresses written down on a half-crumpled napkin. you stare up at him in shock before snatching the keys and paper.

"fifty bucks an hour???" you whisper-screamed at him before the startled look on his face pulled you back into reality. "what about this job is worth paying me that much? i'm accepting it, no takesies backsies, but why so much, schlatt?" you tilted your head at him as you asked.

he scrambled for an answer to your question that wasn't "i want to spoil you until you can't think of anything else in the world you want," but when he opened his mouth to talk, nothing came out. you sighed and answered his previous question instead.

"yeah, i can start today. let's go ahead and get to work, boss," you said, standing up and collecting all your school stuff you brought in with you. "take me somewhere i can dump my stuff!"

weeks passed, you fell into rhythm with his fucked up schedule easily, quickly learning when to fetch him more caffeine and when to take away his alcohol. you kept him organized, boosting his productivity and helping him with almost anything he needed. you learned a few days in the fifty an hour was for no good reason other than maybe ted had told him you were struggling to pay for school (he hadn't) because most of your job was sitting at another desk, sometimes in the same room, sometimes separated by walls, parallel playing with schlatt as he filmed or streamed or edited or did whatever he needed to do while you worked on schoolwork or a fun hobby you were into. you were being paid to do minimal office work, study and relax, and best of all, care for your hot boss. he loved when you called him that, boss, it always made his cock twitch and his brain flood with thoughts of you under him.

the worst part of the job was how attracted you were to him. it made doting on him inevitable when your whole source of income was reliant on you making sure he was "taken care of." he noticed you acting more lovingly for the first time when you brought a water bottle to his desk while he was editing and massaged the back of his shoulders before mumbling, "you need to take a break and stretch soon," and leaving the room. he was stunned, skin burning under his sweater where you touched him. secretaries don't do that. he quickly opened up his messages with ted and began typing.

"dude. i fucked up. shouldn't have hired y/n. help." every sentence was a different message. moment later, ted eased the pounding of schlatt's heart a bit by replying.

"what happened??"

schlatt typed quickly. "she massaged my shoulders idk man i can't think around her"

"oh dear heavens, the damn harlot massaged you?"

schlatt didn't dignify that with a response. a few moment later, ted typed again.

"she's really into you dude, you should go for it. i promise she's not the type to sue you if it doesn't work out"

his main fear erased, he closed the chat and got off the computer, heading to find you in his apartment kitchen, going over the schedule for the days to come. music played from a speaker on the counter, and you paused it when you saw him come out.

"sorry, was it too loud?" you asked, looking up at him.

"nah," he shook his head. "you've been workin' for me for a few months now, y/n," he began.

you started shaking your head, backing up into his fridge. "schlatt, please, no, i need this job," you started to babble.

"shhh, nonono, not that at all, doll," he assured you, gliding across the floor to caress your cheek. the pet name made your stomach turn as you let him cup your face. "was gonna say somethin' else."

"what is it, then, boss?" you batted your lashes at him. he inhaled sharply and kissed you, absorbing the high pitched moan you let out. when he pulled away, you flicked your eyes down from his to his mouth and back up to meet his gaze before pulling him back in.

he tasted like whiskey, and he growled against your neck when you slid your hands under his shirt. "hired you just to keep me company but i can't keep my hands off you, doll." the nickname made you nervous for the second time that night.

"then don't keep 'em off me," you panted, puling your shirt off over your head and adjusting your skewed glasses. he drinks you in, inhaling the scent of your perfume (that you recently had to buy another of because he stole your first bottle to smell while he pumped his thick cock in his hand whenever you were gone). after a moment, he peeled your leggings off and picked you up, setting you down on the counter before he kneeled between your legs and looked up at you for permission to begin tasting you. you nodded, running your fingers through his brown curls while he started to lick and kiss at your cunt. much to his enjoyment, you didn't hold back your noises, letting your moans and cries bounce off the echoey walls of his apartment.

he slid a finger in you as he sang praises about how good you tasted for him, working his way up to two, and eventually three. you were crooning about how amazing he felt, knotting your fingers deeper into his hair and pulling it when you felt your high getting close, which made him moan directly onto your clit. you clenched your thighs around his head and ground down onto his face as he drew an orgasm from you.

once his face was thoroughly soaked with your juices, he pulled away and came up to kiss you for a bit before pulling you off the counter and spinning you around.

"i promise i'll fuck you properly, in a bed, next time, i just gotta have you now, toots." he bent you over the counter and slid his pants down, stroking his length a few times before slowly pushing into you. you both moaned, adjusting to each other, and he started thrusting, gripping your hips fiercely as you shrieked and adjusted your glasses again, to no avail because you were being shaken and throttled like a toy.

"god, you're so good!!" you screeched, moaning further when he smacked your ass in response.

"fuck, you look so cute, bent over on my counter like that, lettin' me use you like the good little assistant you are," he snarled. you let out a guttural whine at how hot he sounded. "you're so good at assisting me, baby."

your knees began to buckle and he grabbed you tighter to help hold you up.

"almost there, toots, c'mon. doin' so good."

you cried out one more time and his pace quickened, growing unsteady as he got closer to finishing. he thrust forcefully a few more times before pulling out to come all over your back and ass.

quiet settled over the kitchen as you both panted, and you heard him quietly snap a picture of you with his seed all over you before he grabbed a paper towel and began to clean you up.

"sorry," he mumbled.

you shook you head and turned around to kiss him. "can i stay the night?" you asked him.

he nodded, relieved, and slipped his pants back on.

"can i get paid for it?" you looked at him with a sly expression, glasses smudged.

he laughed. "absolutely."

[kingsoowolves]

what comes after | jsc

pairing: college fwb!sungchan x fem!reader word count: 21.4k

author’s note: soooo, I’m back to writing after a long break. this is my first riize fic and Sungchan practically hauled this monster out of my insides until it became 21k. I wrote most of this while listening to sabrina carpenter’s new album and i think sharpest tool, juno and lie to girls fit really well with the theme of this work. english is not my first language, so please be kind if you're going to point out any mistakes. I hope you guys like this.

contents: smut. some fluff. angst, angst & angst (specially towards the end). switch!reader and switch!sungchan. sex with a condom, fingering, oral (f. and m. receiving). pet names. ass man!sungchan. reader has thoughts on family trauma and self-hatred. random idols mentioned for worldbuilding. sungchan is pretty much an asshole in the end. no HEA.

You feel pathetic. With a raincoat covered in water splatters and standing on your favorite white sneakers – now mud covered and wet – in front of your situationship’s apartment after ringing the doorbell, you truly feel like an idiot.

It’s been over two weeks since he last texted you and here you are, waiting for him to open his door after calling him on a whim, asking for permission to come and see him. But it was a rough day in a rough week in a rough month in a rough trimester and when you finished your last exam of the day and the rain started pouring down while you were on the bus on your way home, your heart made a last-minute decision to ring him up.

So now here you are, feeling pathetic.

Surprisingly, despite the radio silence for the last fortnight, the door opens quickly to reveal a worried Sungchan with a fresh and fluffy towel in his hands as he urges you inside, hand clasping over yours to pull you away from the cold and into the warmth of his home.

He closes the door with his free hand and his eyes instantly fall onto your body to inspect the damage caused by the storm, the dirt and the finals. You can’t help but feel heat under his gaze, your limbs already growing hot after being in his presence for two seconds. It’s your body's natural response to him since the day you met.

“Why didn’t you call me after you finished your exam?” are his first words to you as his hands take your bag and your raincoat off of your arms, both items falling on the floor around your ankles. “I would’ve picked you up.”

The way he says it almost makes you want to apologize for not doing it, but, in all honesty, you don’t quite believe he would’ve picked you up. Two weeks of not talking is a considerable amount of time, after all. So you bite your tongue and reply with the second thing that comes on your head instead.

“Didn’t even think about it. The rain started after I took the bus,” you say, feeling him wrap you in the towel he brought, hands pressing on your arms to make it absorb the rainwater covering you.

He stays silent as he dries you up, expertly and swiftly moving the towel over the areas of your body that were most affected by the downpour, his furrowed eyebrows showing his concentration. You have to actively stop yourself from reaching up to smooth them over, your hands itching to touch him. But in just fifteen seconds your upper half is dried and he squats down to inspect your legs.

He stops with his right hand on your left calf, looking up at you once he sees the mud covering your jeans.

“Shit, you’re a mess,” he sighs, a small chuckle coming out of his throat, too. “You’re gonna have to take a shower.”

“Oh,” you say, mind still understanding his request while your eyes focus on his. After a beat, you realize that you feel kind of insecure of showering in his place when you don’t know where you both stand on your relationship, so you shake your head. “I can go home to shower and come back later, if it’s okay with you.”

He shakes his head back at you. “No, it’s not. That’d be dumb,” he says, standing up in his full height and making you change your gaze from looking down to looking up at him. You feel a pang in your chest at the rejection, thinking he’s saying it would be stupid to come back to him after, but he smooths one hand over your shoulder and clarifies. “Why would you do that when there’s a perfectly good bathroom here you can use?”

You blink at him, your head again very slow in keeping up with his words. Maybe it’s because it’s been a rough day in a rough week in a rough month in a rough trimester. Maybe it’s because your last brain cell was burned while taking your international law exam. Maybe it’s being close with him again after some time, seeing his deep brown eyes, smelling his cologne and standing in his apartment that makes you so dull. Maybe it’s every one of those reasons. At this moment, you think you’re more pathetic than ever.

And you’re pretty sure Sungchan thinks you are, too, because his features crease again as he looks at you, taking a step back and tugging on your hand to come with him. “Come on. I’ll put your clothes in the washer while you shower.”

You quickly step on the heels of your shoes to take them off and follow him down the hallway to the small bathroom by the end of it. Sungchan fetches you a sealed bar of soap from the cabinet under the sink and a new fluffy towel from his dresser. Then, he waits outside of the bathroom for you to strip off your clothes and hand him every piece – hoodie, shirt, pants, undergarments and socks – through the half open door. He smiles at you for only a second before turning on his heels to take the clothes to the washer, saying you can take your time.

You leave the door leaning on its threshold, not quite closed, because, first of all, Sungchan has seen you naked multiple times and there’s no reason to be shy now, and second of all, you half expect him to come join you. So, you step in the shower, the white tiles cold against your toes as you turn the tap to burning hot just how you like it.

It’s relaxing having the heated water hitting your naked skin after being out in the cold with wet clothes for minutes that felt like years. You indulge yourself in it, sighing and letting your limbs loose, facing down and resting the top of your head against the tiles under the head of the shower, moving your body to fully stand under the water to feel it hit your shoulders as your mind travels back to Sungchan. It’s hard to over analyze his every move, touch and word when he’s just a few steps from you. But you’re an expert on doing that in every possible scenario by now. So, you recall every second of your five-minute interaction with him since you stepped inside his place, trying to look for signs of anything. You try to discover if he’s bothered by your presence or if he looked happy to see you, if he helped you out because of his affection or just general kindness, if he was worried because he cares about you in a special way or just because he cares. Still, you can’t come up with answers to your doubts because he was always pretty hard to read anyway.

You try to discover if he’s bothered by your presence or if he looked happy to see you, if he helped you out because of his affection or just general kindness, if he was worried because he cares about you in a special way or just because he cares. Still, you can’t come up with answers to your doubts because he was always pretty hard to read anyway.

Sungchan is a man of few actions and even lesser words. Although you’ve seen him being comfortable and goofy around friends, he often keeps to himself and can even be described as a shy person most of the days. Even though his playful side comes up occasionally when he’s with you, most of the time you are met with silence that makes you conjecture a million theories that are never proven.

Plus, you’re achingly jumbled today and the truth is you always feel foolish around him. Like your strong attraction to him makes you dim-witted, tongue-tied and incoherent. Just like the first time you ever saw him.

The first time you ever saw him was in your freshman year in the second semester at college, in your Ethics class. He’s a STEM major, which obviously meant he was taking it for an extra credit, but you didn’t know that yet when you walked into the east building expecting to see a class filled with law students and came across the tall and hot math nerd.

One moment, you are hurriedly walking up the steps to your seat as the lecture hall fills with scholars and your professor takes his place in front of the board. In the next one, you’re bumping into a desk and sending a collection of papers and one very pricey scientific calculator to fall on the ground with loud bangs and blasts. You’re desperate as you squat down and rest your books on the following step to search for the batteries and the hood of the calculator that flew around during your mishap. And as your hand finds the last battery missing, another hand clasps over it to retrieve the item and you glance up to meet Sungchan’s eyes. You both stand up at the same time, in which you notice how tall he is, your senses taking in his soft hair, strong grip and big eyes surrounded by his glasses’ frame. And then you flinch, taking your hand back from his and muttering a small hushed apology before walking the last steps to your desk and avoiding eye contact with him for the rest of the lesson.

When class is dismissed, despite feeling extremely embarrassed, you gather up your courage and walk down to his desk to apologize profusely, saying how deeply bad you’re feeling and asking if his calculator is still working or if you have to work out a plan to pay for a new one for him.

“Don’t worry. It’s working fine,” he says, the sound of his voice sending a crazy shiver up your spine you never felt before. The first one of many to come. “But if you’re feeling deeply bad about it, you can take me out for dinner.”

You blink at him. The first one of many dim-witted moments to come in his presence. And he chuckles, fingers brushing over your elbow as he steps back from his desk and maneuvers you fully in front of him. You feel your organs internally jolting, like you’ve been struck by an electric shock or like you were numb and dead until now and have suddenly been relieved by a crazy scientist. And it’s all because of his small touch.

“I’m kidding,” he announces after you fail to reply, removing his hand from you, his eyes looking down and the tips of his ears tinting red as he says it. “We’re fine. There’s no need to apologize anymore.”

“Thank you for being so understanding,” you reply, finally getting out of your head and finding your voice again after being revived by his fingertips. “Really. Most people wouldn’t be this chill.”

He walks around you with one hand on the strap of his backpack and steps down two levels of the stairs, becoming almost eye-level with you when he raises an eyebrow up and says, “Guess I’m not like most people.”

And then he turns his back on you, finishing the final steps of the lecture hall and getting out as you stupidly blink at his back.

It’s ridiculous how much you become obsessed with him after that.

Even though you consider yourself smart enough to not develop a crush on your first year of college, you walk head first into that booby trap. Very quickly and happily, too. 

It takes you a few days after your first meeting to learn that he’s actually a sophomore majoring in biological engineering, which didn’t help at all, because your social sciences brain couldn’t understand a thing about STEM. You also learn that he’s originally from another state and that, yes, he is in your Ethics class for an extra credit. From observing him in your shared class, you figure out he actually keeps to himself and likes to doodle on his textbook while the professor is talking. From a couple of shared acquaintances, you’re told that he’s shy, has never been seen with a partner before and doesn’t really attend parties. He’s a quiet one, they say. So much so that when you tell the person that he jokingly asked you out when you bumped into him, they don’t quite believe you.

As the weeks go by with no new interaction between you two except for the few stolen glances you throw his way during lessons, you start to think you imagined the whole thing. The electric buzz in your inner system when he touched you, the blush on his cheeks and ears, the way his eyes scanned you up and down and how his hand lingered a little too long on your arm… It could all just be a fleeting moment. Or only a natural response of your body from seeing and being close to such an attractive person. It certainly couldn’t mean anything special. You convince yourself that it meant nothing.

And then, the next day, you see him at a café close to campus. He’s there with a few close friends, chatting up and joking with each other, and you’re intrigued by how his smiles are easier to appear and how loud he can laugh in a candid and carefree moment. Also, you feel that same attraction again. That gut-punching-needing-to-be-closer magnetic pull between you two. It makes your nerves stand on end, goosebumps raise all over your body and your focus zero on him. It makes your skin prickle, like every atom of your body is buzzing in excitement and craving to be touched by him. And by the way Sungchan’s breath catches when his eyes meet yours and his posture changes, secretly eyeing you up and down every chance he gets, you can tell he feels it, too.

But it takes so long for you to be close to him. Being from strikingly different majors, you are almost never in the same parts of campus. Apart from the class you two met in and the programming class you took in your sophomore year – which you swore to your friends it was just because you were curious about it and not because of the student body attending to it – you mostly live different lives and stand out of each other's ways.

However, slowly and surely, your life becomes intertwined with his, like someone is playing puzzles with the pieces of you both. First, you become a TA to your environmental law Professor and end up tutoring one-on-one with his cousin Sungho. One day, while you are reviewing the paper he wrote for his class, Sungho tells you how Sungchan said “she’s super hot” when he told him you were his TA. You have to hide your smile behind the paper sheets in your hands to not give away that you’re attracted to him and scold Sungho for distracting you. That’s the first time you have actual evidence of Sungchan’s interest in you and it makes you smile for days.

Then, one of your friends starts hooking up with one of his friends and soon enough you are hanging out together in the same group. It helps you discover new things about him to obsess about. Like how he has the cutest mole on the corner of his upper lip you just need to drop a kiss on. And how his closest friends often call him Jinsu and how he always smiles when he hears it. You learn he’s a gym rat. And that he’s always down to help his peers whenever they have a problem and need a hand. It’s so freaking adorable.

And then, you both join in an extracurricular philosophy workshop you could’ve sworn you heard him ask Haneul, your friend, when was the final date of submission to in one of your hangouts. All these new opportunities to meet him frequently allow you to actually talk to him a few times, and soon enough you're sharing stories about your lives, joking and flirting with each other.

And that’s how, finally, in your junior year of college, your and Sungchan’s paths are unmistakably crossed and you become actual friends. So, when you surprisingly see him at a frat party, it’s natural for you to greet him while he plays Super Mario Bros with his friend Sohee. You strike a conversation about how you thought he didn’t like parties and Sungchan confirms it’s true and tells you how Sohee is a member of the fraternity and actually dragged him there. You laugh at his antics and then he jokes about something else so you smile again.

You want to sit next to him to keep your conversation going, but there’s a bunch of people littered across the room in various stages of drunkenness and practically no space left on the couch he’s on. Sungchan notices your eyes searching for a spot and makes as much room as he can, pulling you to sit on the arm of the sofa next to him. Then, he slings one arm around your body, keeping you steady and close to him, and rests his hand on your lap, his other hand joining from your opposite side with the video game controller. While he fixes his grip on the controller to keep playing, his knuckles graze your jeans clad thighs and you realize that you’re trapped around his arms for the time being.

It makes you instantly go rigid, his sudden closeness already making you dizzy and short of breath. And then, like it’s an afterthought of his, Sungchan leans on your side and looks up at you, his eyes carefully watching your reaction as he asks, “Is this okay?”

You purse your lips together and nod even though the thumping of your heart is so loud in your ears you’re not sure you heard him correctly. “Yeah.”

He nods back at you, a close-lipped smile appearing on his lips as he focuses back on the game playing on the TV. You have to concentrate on keeping your breaths steady as the side of his face brushes your arms, his hair soft and his stubble rough on your skin. You have to bite on your lower lip to keep yourself from sighing when his hands press on your thighs or on your lower stomach, controller lying in your lap as he waits for the game to load. Only after a while you feel comfortable enough to sit back against the cushions and let your hand wander to his shoulders, trembling fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt because your hormones are in a frenzy inside of you.

“You having fun?” He asks after they finish off a match on the game, hot breath falling over your arm and sending an electrical current on your body.

“Yeah. Until now, at least,” you reply, dangling your feet under you to give you something to focus on that it’s not him.

“Wanna have more fun?” He asks, and there’s an unmistakable glint in his eye that sends butterflies flying around in your stomach.

“Like what?” You reply, purposely leaning into the obvious sinful intentions laced in his words.

“We can get out of here,” he says then, fingers twitching the hem of your shirt and brushing on your skin, eyes scanning over your features and looking for any signs that you’re uncomfortable by his actions or words. He licks his lips when he notices how your eyes drop to his mouth and moves his hand to play with a strand of your hair before finishing off his proposition. “Have a drink somewhere more private… If you want.”

You know that the drink is an excuse for something else and that somewhere more private is actually his house. But you’ve been wanting this for so long that you have no desire to play it cool or pretend you don’t want this.

“Sure,” is all you reply, accepting whatever fate has in store for you now.

When Sungchan gets up from the couch and says goodbyes to his friends, he grabs your hand for you two to leave together, checking your eyes one last time to be sure you’re willing to do this just as much as him. You smile at him and that seems to be enough to placate his worries, because he smiles back and pushes you to follow through. You know you’ll kiss him as you make your way down the stairs of the frat house, one hand still gripping Sungchan’s and the other texting your friends to let them know you’re leaving with him. You know you’ll at least make out when he shields your side, protecting you from any unsteady drunk that may trip over you as you try to reach the door out of the house. And you’re pretty sure you’ll fuck as you both wait on the sidewalk for the Uber he asked for, his hand intertwined with yours as he hums along with the music from the party.

Still, you pretend like you’re naïve and clueless just for the mystery still hanging in the air.

Once the car pulls up on the curb, Sungchan leads you inside and enters after. He still holds your hand, resting it against his thigh as you take the left seat of the car and he sits back on the right one. The middle seat between you both is vacant and none of you make a move to sit closer to one another. You can cut the tension with a knife as soon as the car moves and the music from the party fades away. Slowly, he starts to play with your hand, rubbing and grabbing at your knuckles and you hold your breath. A moment later, your palm is up on his lap as he spreads your fingers open, his nails softly grazing the length of each and every one of them. He chuckles when the action makes you shiver and you hide your face with your free hand from embarrassment, turning away to look out the window. But then he changes places, splaying his fingers so you can rub your nails on the length of them now, and the same shudder that ran through you takes over Sungchan’s body, a cute blush appearing on his cheeks. Sungchan is a man of few actions and even lesser words. But in that moment, using just the palm of your hands, he chose to become vulnerable to you. His attitude says this is real and I feel it too. And you can’t be more grateful for him finally dropping the mysterious act and becoming transparent for once. At that, you smile and he intertwines his fingers with yours, clutching your hand fully.

You both stop watching your hands to finally look at one another. He sighs contentedly under your gaze and his free hand, the one that isn’t already attached to yours, finds its way on your face, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. His eyes slip to your lips and back to your eyes, searching for something. And only after you nod at him, he dives in, capturing your mouth on his and successfully filling the space in between your seats, leaning his body on yours.

You’ve never been kissed like this before, with so much energy you feel renewed. But you try not to think too much about it and instead feel it as you reciprocate the kiss, your lips and hands restless to show him just how much you felt for him for the past two years.

Sungchan keeps kissing you as the car stops its journey and the driver has to announce you arrived. He keeps kissing you while you walk up the steps of his building to find his apartment. He keeps kissing you whilst he punches the code on his door to get it open. He is still kissing you as you take off your shoes and coats by the hall and he’s leading you inside, whispering a breathless “this is my place” that drives you both into a fit of giggles. He kisses you inside his room, on his bed, as he takes off your clothes. He kisses you even when he puts on the condom and you jerk him off before he slides inside you. He keeps kissing you whilst you adjust to his size and ask him to move faster. When he’s fucking you, he kisses every part of you his lips can reach – your forehead, your cheek, the tip of your nose, your eyebrows, your neck, your ears, your shoulders, your clavicle and your boobs. You think his mouth never leaves your body, never fully at least, when he kisses your lips again whilst you tell him you’re so close. And as you cum, walls spasming and squeezing his cock to milk him dry from his own orgasm, he kisses you one more time.

After, when you’re lying in bed spent and he spoons you, he tells you how much he wanted to do this the first time you met. How you short-circuited his system and made him ask you out on that first moment and how serious he actually was about that. How he didn’t know what to do with himself when you didn’t reply. You chuckle at his confession and let the night wash away his words as you’re lulled to sleep by his warm skin on yours and his groggy soft voice. Before the slumber overtakes you, you swallow the words of your own confession that are burning on your tongue, thinking you’ll have the time to tell him later.

And that’s how you end up here, in a seven-month situationship with him, never quite speaking those words.

By now, it’s nuts the kind of power Sungchan holds over you. And you’re not sure he even knows it. Your relationship – if it even can be called that – is, for the most part, purely skin-on-skin raw sexual desire. Every time you are near Sungchan, you are energetic, your hormones kicking into high gear. For some time, you thought that after a few times sleeping together, you’d be able to get over it and get him out of your system. You hoped that your attraction to him would pass or that it would at least dim. That hooking up would get so common it’d turn boring, that you wouldn’t get the jitters around him anymore or that you’d run out of things to experience and new kinks to try out.

But every time you do it – every time, without fail – you finish it wanting more. You keep coming back to his arms and he keeps letting you in. The chemistry is still off the charts.

You love the way his calloused hands touch you and his soft lips kiss you. You’re crazy about how he has memorized all of your body parts and all of your ticks to make you scream with pleasure in bed. You’re obsessed with how he’s had your skin marked up with his fingers, teeth and scent. You’re captivated by his filthy words on your ear and his gentle hard thrusts against your hips. You’re fixated by how his dick fits perfectly inside you and how he knows how to make you cum in minutes. And you’re haunted by the fact that all of that combined might mean that you are in love with him.

Because sometimes, when you’re not fucking or going about all the stops that would lead you to fuck, you feel genuine deep attachment with him.

In a rare moment he laughs when you tell him how you argued with your crazy conservative forensics’ Professor in front of the Dean in a criminology symposium because he dared to assume asexual women are frigid. Or he lets you lay your head on his chest as he tells you how he and his roommate Shotaro became friends. Or he places a piece of your hair over your ear while you eat dinner together at the pizza place near your place. Or you belt out early 2000’s music together on his beat-up Kia Sephia 1993 while you drive around town. Or you tell him about wanting to change your major to Literature, that you never planned to take Law in the first place, and he encourages you to do what you really want. Or you both stay up late sharing your fears and uncertainties about life after college. Or he pulls you into his arms, holding you closer and tightly against him because your body drifted away from him while sleeping. Or he tells you how he loves your caresses as you pet his hair to lull him back to sleep while the rising sun infiltrates through his room curtains. Or he says he remembered you during the day because he saw your favorite flower blossoming near the building to his calculus class. Or he not so casually asks who was the guy you were talking too close with the last time he saw you on campus, jealousy shining in his eyes. Or he reads the latest philosophy book you recommended and gives you an in-depth review of all the points he found important. Or he buys you a cupcake when you meet up a day after your birthday and acts nonchalant, tips of his ear becoming red, as you ask him what it is for. Or he sends you a Spotify playlist of an artist he thinks you’d really like the sound. Or he asks how your grandmother is doing a few days after you came back from a quick trip home because she was sick.

In those rare moments, you hold yourself together to not bawl your eyes out because of his kind gestures. It’s hard not feeling sentimental being treated with the minimal tenderness when you grew up in a house with strict rules and no space for feelings. Of course, there were the frequent occasions where your parents would scream their lungs out at each other saying the nastiest stuff you ever heard, but, other than that, feelings were bottled up and could only come out in screeches if you were an adult. Your parents turned their maximum effort to make sure food was on the table and you and your siblings were upstanding citizens, and as much as you’re grateful for that, sometimes you resent them for never truly making you feel seen and appreciated.

Maybe that’s the reason why when Sungchan shows you care and desire, you mistake it for love. Because, in those sacred moments in the dead of the night when he shares a part of him with you, something he never told or showed before, you want to crawl out of your skin and into his to become a part of him. That’s when you think – you feel – like you love him. And you feel like maybe he loves you, too.

The fact that he speaks in a gentle and low tone as opposed to the wails you used to listen to as a child is just an added bonus.

After fifteen minutes, you finally close the water tap and the stream of your daydream about Sungchan to step out of the shower. As you dab your body up with a towel, you find out Sungchan has left a change of his clothes for you on the sink while your mind was far away. You quickly dry yourself off and put on the clothes, a pair of his boxers and a set of gray sweatpants and sweatshirt that retains the heat from the hot water on your body and makes you feel like a human again and not a dirty wet popsicle. Then you wipe a hand on the mirror over the sink to get rid of the steam on it and start brushing your hair back with your fingers to redo your ponytail. Once you’re satisfied, you put the towel up to dry and leave the bathroom, walking the small path to Sungchan’s room. You can’t help but notice that Shotaro’s room, that is right beside Sungchan’s, has its door open and lights out, with no signs of Shotaro inside, which means you and Sungchan have the house alone to yourselves. A wicked smile makes its way to your face as you think of all the noise you can make without a care in the world. But you soon tamper your wild thoughts and breath in before knocking on Sungchan’s closed door, only opening it after you hear his permission to come inside.

His bedroom is small and you’ve been in here so many times you already know it by heart. A twin bed by the window, some basic white curtains, a nightstand, a small desk with a chair by the foot of the bed, a dresser just in front of it and that’s it. It’s a tiny room in a tiny apartment, not much different than yours, and you suppose there’s not much else a college student can afford in a building off-campus.

When you come inside, Sungchan is sitting on his chair, laptop open as he types away. And as you close the door again, he turns on his seat to welcome you with a smile on his face.

“Hey,” he says, eyeing you up and down. “Did the clothes fit okay?”

You look down at the attire that so clearly belongs to him but fits you well enough because even though he’s taller than you, you’re more full-figured than him. “Yeah. Thanks for lending me them. And for letting me shower.”

“No problem. I already turned on the dryer for your clothes, they should be done in a minute. I also wiped down your raincoat, sneakers and your bag. Shoes are still in the hall. Raincoat and backpack are right there,” he tells you, pointing at a spot behind you where your belongings are gathered, right near his dresser.

Your eyes follow his direction to recognize where your things are and then you look back to him, feeling like a deer caught in headlights as you lean back on the wall with hands bound behind your back. Even though you wanted to meet him, you feel misplaced now that you’re here. Like the time apart has made you become strangers to one another. You don’t know what to expect anymore. Sungchan has been nothing but welcoming until now, but you keep fearfully anticipating his every move and word, waiting to be rejected, sure that your presence is annoying him and he’ll ask you to leave at any minute.

Contrarily to all of your fears, Sungchan puts you out of your misery as he extends a hand and beckons you to come closer. When you step in his general direction, he takes your hand in his and draws you in so you’re standing in between his legs. With him still seated in his chair, you’re taller than him, and you like the leverage of looking down on him that it gives you. But instead of meeting his eyes with confidence, you focus your gaze on a spot behind his head as you feel his hands wrapping around your waist and you place your own on his shoulders.

It's only when Sungchan moves one hand to your face and tips your chin back that you really look at him. He’s wearing a pair of gray sweatpants that match yours and a white t-shirt that hugs his form and shows his biceps, his fringe styled in a way that leaves a heart-shaped spot on his forehead that you want to drop a kiss on. His reading glasses frame his eyes, the lenses lightly scratched. It’s completely unfair how absolutely ravishing he looks in simple clothing and so little styling.

“Hi there,” he whispers when your eyes stop wandering over his features and finally focus on his face, the smile on his lips making you feel warm all over.

“Hey,” you reply, fingers picking at the fabric of his shirt over his chest for lack of something better to do. “Thank you for everything. You’re the best.”

“Of course, princess,” he says, hand moving to the nape of your neck to pull your face closer. He pecks your lips two times before pulling back. You instantly melt against him, containing the urge to follow his mouth with yours. “I wouldn’t be okay with you standing in those wet cold clothes. Plus, you look cute wearing mine, too.”

You smile shyly at him, your cheeks burning because of the compliment and he nuzzles his nose against yours, muttering a “So damn cute,” before pressing his lips on yours again.

You sigh against him, mouth parting to immediately receive his tongue. It’s slow and sweet, you both getting acquainted with each other again, one of his hands around your waist to press you against his front, and the other one rubbing circles on your nape. Your own hands wrap around his neck and pull at the strands of his hair, earning a soft groan from him. He tastes like mint toothpaste and heaven, and you’re embarrassed by how much you missed this. His closeness, his smell, his touch, his kiss. All of it. All of him. You want him all the time.

“Finals week has been treating you badly, doll?” He asks when you both pull back for air and you groan at his question, hanging your head low and resting your forehead on his right shoulder. He chuckles at you.

“Please, I don’t want to talk about it,” you whimper, the press of his lips on your neck making your voice airy.

He nods and softly pushes your head back so he can look at you again. “Fine, let’s not talk about it. But I still have an essay due tomorrow that I’m trying to finish today, so I don’t think I’ll be able to spend much time with you right now.”

“Oh, okay,” you reply. “You want me to go?”

He shakes his head and looks at you pointedly, muzzling another one of your attempts to flee. “Please stay. I’ll order some food if you’re hungry and you can eat while I work.”

You scrunch your nose at the offer with a hand over your stomach. “I actually feel nauseous after that exam.”

He laughs at you and starts humming, making the most adorable thinking face while he tries to come up with a plan that doesn’t involve you leaving.

“I can charge my phone and watch TikTok videos on your bed while you work? If the sound doesn’t bother you. I’ll make sure the volume is really low.” You suggest. “And after, I don’t know…” You trail off, feeling warm all over again because you actually know exactly what comes after. What comes after is you getting impaled by his dick and writhing in pleasure. And you hope that what comes after is you both finally confessing your feelings for each other, too. But that’s just a hope.

And also, it’s not even the time to think about that, so you shake your head to scare those thoughts away and give him another option, “I can go back home after a while. I actually need to sleep early because I have another exam in the third period tomorrow.”

“Okay, sounds like a plan,” he replies, nodding his head and pulling you in for another long and sweet kiss.

That is interrupted by the familiar pinging sound of a message coming through his laptop iMessage app and your eyes instinctively follow it to check what it is. But Sungchan is quicker than you, scrambling up and turning his torso to reach for the mouse and close the notification before you have the chance to see it. It’s a small moment that doesn’t quite alarm you because you know Sungchan is a private person and there’s no way he’d let you look through his texts. Still, as he turns back to drop a last kiss on your lips and you walk away to search for your phone in your bag, something about it nags at the back of your head.

With your phone and charger in hand and the TikTok app open, you make yourself comfortable on his bed. As your brain forgets all about international laws and politics and gets a serotonin boost from puppies and kittens’ videos, Sungchan pulls your feet from the bed to lay them on his lap as he remains seated on his chair. When he’s clicking away on the mouse or scrolling through his screen to read something, he rests his free hand on your ankles and starts massaging the soles of your feet. The domesticity of it all tugs on your heart and you can’t help but smile as you watch his back. Soon enough, the warmth of his room, his kneading on your feet and the comfy feeling get to you and you start to feel sleepy.

So, you connect your charger plug on the outlet behind Sungchan’s bedside table and hook it up on your phone, letting the device rest on the table as you promise Sungchan you’re just going to close your eyes for a few minutes. Then, you end up falling asleep in just a few seconds.

You feel the warmth first. A source of heat enveloping you in a strong and sturdy body. Then, you feel the gentleness, the soft touch on your hair, the slide of a thumb under your ear that pulls you from your slumber and into the arms of reality.

As you blink your eyes open, you’re met with Sungchan’s deep light brown eyes, illuminated by the lamp on his bedside table. The atmosphere is comfortable. You’re warm and cozy laying on Sungchan’s twin bed with his arms surrounding you. The rain is still falling outside, although now it has turned into a light drizzle. There’s flimsy wind coming in through the small opening of the window that cools the air and prevents everything from becoming too hot. But you like the heat and think you could be easily lured back to sleep because of it.

“Hi there,” Sungchan mutters before you have the chance to close your eyes again, his head resting on the same pillow as yours.

“Hi, Jinsu” you say groggily, rubbing a hand over your sleepy face. You notice how he smiles and his eyes glint at your use of his favorite nickname, and an emotion stirs deep inside you for seeing him so happy with something so simple. 

You get awkward for a moment thinking you must have mucus on your eyes and a bloated face right now, but Sungchan just keeps smiling at you and it’s enough to take your mind away from the embarrassment. His thumb rubs soothing circles on the nape of your neck as you adjust yourself over the sheets. “Sorry for waking you up. I was just getting comfortable to sleep,” he says. 

“S’okay.” You smile back at him, reaching over to caress his hair, your fingers threading through its strands. “For how long did I nap?”

“Two hours or so,” he says, sliding his hand down to your waist. “You snored, too.”

You give him a scoff, followed by a yawn that starts small and turns big. It makes you stretch your whole body, extending all of your limbs from your arms to your toes, cracking your knuckles and everything, and Sungchan gives you space to do so. When you’re finished, you turn on your back, getting comfortable again and closing your eyes briefly with a quiet hum.

“I should probably go, then,” you say with eyes still closed. It was about 7:30 p.m. when you settled in his bed, which means now it’s close to ten. If you want a quality sleep and to wake up on time tomorrow, you actually should get going. But Sungchan’s bed feels too comfy right now. Being in his arms is not bad either. 

You don’t see, but you can feel him scooting over to you, sheets rustling as he gets closer, his nose nuzzling yours and his hand fiddling with the bottom hem of your sweatshirt, your senses heightened by your drowsy mind and the lack of vision.

“You can stay a little while longer,” he replies with a playful tilt in his words, his fingers skimming over your belly button making you jump slightly, and you open your eyes to see the left side of his mouth popping up as he shamelessly presses his body on the side of yours. “I don’t mind.”

“Oh, you don’t?” you mumble, suddenly feeling the need to lower your voice with his lips so close to yours, eyes narrowing at his obvious naughty intentions. “That’s so nice of you.”

“Uh-huh, that’s me,” he finally leans in to give you a peck on the lips. “I’m sooo nice,” it’s the last thing he says before kissing you fully.

This kiss is heavy and intimate. His hand around your neck keeps you in place as he savors you, tongue entering your mouth. He strokes the back of your teeth, the roof of your mouth, the inside of your cheeks and your own tongue, groaning at whatever he finds there. His other hand grazes the skin of your waist tenderly in a way that may have made you think he’d treat you delicately if he wasn’t kissing you with so much fervor and energy. He takes whatever he wants from you until you pull away, already out of breath.

“I thought you were going to sleep,” you tease, lips ghosting over his, and he smirks at you.

He moves his lips to your ear and whispers, “Yeah, but I’m all woken up now,” as his hand moves up and down your stomach, faintly caressing your skin in a way that makes your insides burn. He presses his pelvis on the side of your thigh and you feel his dick hardening while still being constrained inside his pants. “Can’t you feel it?”

You reply a faint yeah before he’s all over you again, mouth desperate on yours as he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth and bites, hands gripping your waist and body crowding you against the sheets. He’s consuming you whole and he wants more. And you give it to him. All of you. Honestly, at this point you’d give him whatever he asked.

“You don’t have exams tomorrow?” You ask in between kisses, breathless and shaky, the still sane part of your mind trying to estimate how much time you have together and what you’d be able to do with it.

Sungchan shakes his head slightly and kisses the corner of your mouth, putting a strand of your hair that’s fallen free from your ponytail behind your ear. “I’m finished with exams,” he whispers and kisses your cheek, then moves his lips to your earlobe, kissing there, too. “I have all the time in the world for you right now, princess.”

You want to kiss him again, but his head moves up, his nose sinking into your hair and deeply inhaling before pressing his lips on your hairline. “I missed the smell of your shampoo so much,” he says, eyes focusing back on your face as he slides his lips to your temple.

You sigh against him, his words making your heart flutter. Still, you can’t help but tease him when his eyes meet yours again. “Well, if you contacted me earlier, you wouldn’t have missed it,” you say, pouting at him, your hand bawling at his shirt as you finally show how upset the two weeks of radio silence made you feel.

Sungchan laughs at you and cradles his hand on the side of your face, his thumb caressing over your cheekbone as he holds you close. “Oh, did you get mad I didn’t text you, princess?” He mutters, his eyes glinting while yours are sad. “You should’ve texted me, then.”

You keep pouting, making a dissatisfied noise with his reply. Then, you cast your eyes down to the collar of his shirt as you say, “I wanted you to talk to me first.”

Sungchan chuckles and closes his palm on your chin, tilting your head up so you have nowhere to look but into his eyes. “But you ended up calling me up either way, didn’t you?” He teases in a low gruff voice with dark eyes. His fingers press against the sides of your cheeks to pucker your lips for him and he drops four consecutives pecks on your mouth that have you sighing. “Sounded so cute on the phone, too, saying you needed to see me,” he finishes.

The mockery of his words falls hard on you, making you feel ashamed as he reminisces your exact words, directly pointing out the truth: that you were the one who pursued him and not the other way around. You whimper in discontent, your face contorting as you try to get away from his grip, but his hold on your chin tightens when you move. So you press your nails on his shoulders over his shirt, hoping the fabric gives away and your force is enough to draw blood, and look at him with hard eyes and anger on your face. “Sungchan, I don’t like-”

“Why don’t you just tell me you missed me, huh?” He asks, interrupting you and making you roll your eyes at him, a snappy reply on your tongue. “Because I missed you, princess. I really did.”

And just like that the anger fizzles out and the irritable words are gone from your brain. His confession makes you melt back against him, breath hitching and eyes going wide. You notice he’s still smirking, probably because he knows he got you right where he wanted. Teasing you nonstop for half a minute and then confessing he missed you just so he can get a reaction out of you. And you give it to him, falling on the trap just like he wanted. You always do.

“Did you really?” You ask, big eyes focusing on his lips and neck pushing forward, needing to hear his confirmation. If you were a pet, your ears would be up and alert, patiently waiting for your owner to assert his authority over you.

“I did,” he says, nodding his head and smoothing his hands over your features now, his tongue poking out to wet his lips. “And did you miss me, princess?”

You nod before he’s even finished speaking. Knowing he missed you just how much you missed him fills you with urgency and you’re sure you have eager and wanton eyes as you grip on the back of his head and pull his face closer, focusing your gaze back on his as you sheepishly confess back, “I missed you, Jinsu.”

Sungchan’s smile slowly spreads across his lips as he hears and sees your words coming out of your lips. He pats on the top of your head briefly, like you really are his pet, and coos at you. “There you go, pretty girl.”

And then he’s pulling you in for a kiss again, his mouth devouring you whole as he creeps one hand under your head to support it and slides his other one to grasp at your hip.

He shifts on the bed, leaning over you with a leg in between yours, his grip tightening as your tongues meet. In no time you’re both breathing heavily, lips red, swollen and covered in spit as your hands weave through his hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer. He moves his lips down to your neck, sucking and biting everywhere, and drives his hands up your stomach under your shirt, feeling the skin just under your boobs before his fingers enclose over one of them.

You sigh and crane your neck to the side as he keeps peppering kisses on your collar, his thumb now pressing against your nipple as it hardens over his ministrations, another moan flying free from your mouth. You try to match his pace, descending one hand to his stomach to pull up his t-shirt, your fingers grazing his abs.

He pulls away then, kneeling on the bed to remove his shirt and throw it on some corner of his room. You spend approximately two seconds kissing his lower stomach before he’s pulling your sweatshirt – his sweatshirt – over your head, too, and pouncing on you a minute later, his other knee also coming in between your legs as he latches his mouth around one boob, laying you back down.

“Fuck, Sungchan,” you groan, your hands clamping on his hair again because he’s sucking on your nipple at just the perfect angle whilst his thigh presses on your crotch with just the ideal amount of friction to make you dizzy. You’re sure you're wet already and it’s not even been over ten minutes since you woke up.

“Missed these tits so much too, princess,” he says over your damp nipple, eyes focusing on yours and raising goosebumps all over you. It’s an incredibly lewd image. His glossy and pretty lips, coated on your saliva, telling you over your areola how much he missed your boobs. Yeah, you’ll probably be thinking about it for a long time, keeping this memory to your mind to use it specifically when you masturbate in the near future. Or you’ll be putting a video representation of it as the cause of your death on your grave when you’re buried. One of these two options, for sure.

He presses kisses all over the valley of your chest before sucking around the skin of your other boob. His tongue peeks out of his mouth to kitten lick at your nipple at the same time his blunt nails graze against the skin just under your belly button on your right side, and you fidget under him. It’s a weak spot he had memorized as soon as you started sleeping together and he tortures you with it every damn time you two fuck just to see you squirm.

“Desperate already?” He says as he rubs the same place over and over, his eyes watching your stomach contract with each caress.

“You’re such a douchebag,” you tell him.

“Why?” he kisses your nipple and focuses his eyes back on yours, stupid smirk still plastered on his face. “Am I not making you feel good?”

“You fucking know why,” you respond, moving your hand to his wrist to stop his abuse of your weak spot and sliding his hand down to cup the place in between your thighs over your clothes. “And this is where your hand has to be to make me feel good.”

Sungchan laughs at that, pressing his hand harder on you and sucking on your boob one more time. His eyes and lips are glistening as he says, “So bossy. You’re lucky I like it.”

And then his mouth is claiming yours again while he sits up and his hands make quick work of yanking down your sweatpants and underwear – once again, his clothes – and throwing them away from you, making you lay back and bend your legs. Once he’s done, you move down the bed, sitting to grasp your fingers over the drawstring of his sweatpants, trying to loosen it so he can get just as naked as you are, but he moves his hips out of your reach just before you can finish it.

“I want to feel you, too,” you whine as he hovers over you, one hand pushing on your shoulder to reposition you the way he wants it, your back stretching against the covers again.

He smiles and drops a small peck on the corner of your mouth before moving his body down the bed, hands spreading open your thighs and lips pressing kisses on your belly and going down, down, down.

“In a minute, doll,” he says over your right knee, his hands now moving to the inside of your thighs, so close to where you most want him. “Have to make you feel good first, just like you asked.”

His mouth moves up now, lips sucking and bruising your thighs, tongue lavishing over your soft skin, one hand crossed on your waist to hold your body down and another pinching the supple flesh of your butt and thigh, pushing and pulling as he pleases and extending your torture so much more. You love it just as much as you hate it. It’s amazing how much he knows your body, how much he remembers all of your ticks just to use them against you. Or maybe it’s just the fact that it’s him. He makes you feel this way. Always has. Probably always will.

You are about to beg for something more, the first letter of a please making its way out of your now dry lips. And then he’s parting your folds and kissing up your crotch, becoming face to face with your glistening cunt. He buries his nose just on the outer part of it and breathes in deeply for a moment, quite literally inhaling your scent, and you think he just has to be mad. There’s no way in hell he’s a sane person.

“Fuck yeah,” he groans, his eyes meeting your wide ones when you press your elbows on the bedspread to support your upper body and watch what he’s doing. “Missed this sweet little pussy, too.” He slides his forefinger up your slit and rubs at your clit, making you shiver. “And she missed me, right, doll? Fucking dripping already. And all for me.”

“Holy shit, you’re crazy,” you moan, brushing his hair back as he keeps rubbing your clit, your hips wiggling with every complete circle he finishes, eyes never leaving his.

“And you love it,” he states and you can’t argue with that. And then he’s licking a wide strip up your pussy, his middle finger reaching down to find your entrance at the same time.

It would be ridiculous to get close to cumming just from that alone, but it’s been so long and you’ve been so pent up you already feel the characteristic churning deep in your stomach. Still, like always, Sungchan takes his time with you, massaging your entrance with his fingers, tongue finding that spot just under your clit that makes you see stars.

The seven months you’ve been doing this have been so full of sexual experiments that now he knows you prefer indirect stimulation rather than the direct on-the-nose approach. He knows you like to be eased into it, to slowly lose yourself to pleasure over getting quickly to your orgasm.

So, he keeps rubbing over your hole before putting his finger in, stroking your walls lazily as you moan softly, his tongue licking over the same spot over and over, oftentimes catching just the underside of your clit and making you swivel your hips trying to follow his lips.

“That’s it, doll. Doing so good for me,” he says as he speeds up his movements, joining another finger inside of your pussy and focusing on the image of your eyes closed, chest heaving and lips bitten. “Feels good?”

“Feels so good, Jinsu,” you reply, opening your glassy eyes to meet his, grabbing at his forearm that’s crossed over the front of your body. Sungchan is so focused on bringing you pleasure that the veins on his arms are popped up, so pretty you wish to run your tongue over each one. All of it just adds to the raw sexual tension lingering in the air.

“I love it when you call me that. You know just the way to drive me crazy, princess,” he groans, eyes never leaving yours as he moves his mouth to your clit again, now sucking harshly on it as his two fingers scissor you open.

Another thing you love about Sungchan is his dirty talk. You still don’t understand how he stays so silent and bashful most of the time and turns into another person in bed, becoming bold and forward. It’s not uncommon for him to be completely calm and collected when you’re in a friendly gather and then say the most obscene things while fucking you half an hour later, the shy persona thrown out the window. Sometimes he starts teasing you with texts, dirty looks or small touches even while you are out with friends. And the knowledge that he gets to be a completely different person just for you got you off one too many times.

You move your free hand to the back of his neck and push him more into your cunt. He gets the message and pulls your legs further apart, one hand going under your bum to support your lower half as you start bucking your hips into his face, sliding your elbows under you to arch your back while you’re searching for pleasure. He’s fucking you with his tongue so good right now you feel your sanity slipping away. The breeze coming from the window gives you goosebumps because of the contrast with the heat of your body, and your nipples stand hard as you whimper, hand pulling on the strands on Sungchan’s nape.

He groans against you, the vibration going straight to your heat and enveloping your whole body. When he pulls aways slightly, he keeps rubbing at your clit with his fingers.

“Gonna cum for me, princess?” He asks while resting his chin on your thigh and you moan, nodding desperately as you lift your head to look up into his glazed eyes. Words would fail you right now, so you do your best to convey your feelings through your actions, the hand on his forearm gripping him so hard he gives you his hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. “Do it, baby. You look so pretty when you cum.”

Over Sungchan’s eyes, you catch the way he’s rutting his hips on the bed, obviously looking for some kind of friction. The image shows that he’s just as turned on as you while eating you out and it makes you crazier. His shoulder blades and his back are tensed and you rest one foot over his shoulder just to feel the muscles moving under it, so fucking attractive. And when you focus back to his face, he’s panting, gaze never leaving yours as he dips his head again to suck hard on your clit, and that’s when you cum.

Your orgasm takes over your whole body and you shudder as Sungchan doesn’t stop, three of his fingers finding your hole again and pistoning inside you whilst you fall apart, his left cheek resting against your thigh and his eyes never leaving your pussy. You convulse around his hand and under his body, body going haywire while the intense pleasure overwhelms your senses.

You don’t know what to do with yourself. If you should keep your hands pressing against his nape and your hips lifting off in the air or if you should stop and take a breather. It all feels too fucking good it almost smothers you, but you don’t feel like stopping. Sungchan makes the decision for you then, choosing to keep his tongue out to taste you and his fingers curling on the spongy spot inside you that makes you writhe.

But suddenly it’s too much and you sit up to try to push him away with a hand on his forehead and clasp your other one over his wrist that is bended as he still guides his digits furiously inside you. Your legs try to close over his head, but he presses a hand firmly on the inside of your left thigh to keep them apart, his eyes determined as he meets yours again and pulls away slightly from your clit.

“Wait, I’m–“ You try to speak, but the word sensitive doesn’t come out as you feel your thighs trembling.

“I know, doll, I know,” he coos at you with pouty lips, still overstimulating you and enjoying every second of it, his eyes relaying fake empathy. “But you can give me one more, right?” You shake your head no with pleading eyes. Sungchan doesn’t budge. “Yes, you can. I believe in you. Gonna feel so good, too.”

You realize there’s no escaping this. You could use your safe word, but you don’t want to. Not when Sungchan is assertive and so good to you that it makes you feel obedient, keen to do everything in your power to make him feel good as well. So you bite your lip and nod your head at the same time you feel something change deep inside you. Your thighs that were trembling now spread open again and your pelvis starts chasing the feeling of his hand instead of avoiding it. Sungchan makes note of every new reaction, a sly smile appearing on his lips, and his eyes zero in on your cunt again. You relax your back enough to have your elbows hitting the sheets again, head falling back. Your hands weaken their grip on Sungchan’s wrist and head as he doubles down his efforts, fingers unwavering working to bring you to the edge. Soon enough, you feel the tightness in your belly, how it’s so steadfast you can’t help but let yourself fall into it. 

When you sob his name and curl your toes on his back, he looks at you with fierce eyes and one command on his moist lips.

“Cum,” he whispers, soft and yet harsh.

Just like that, the band snaps again and your walls spasm, gushing over Sungchan’s fingers. You arch your back off the bed, hips shooting up to feel everything he has left to give you, your mouth hanging open in a silent moan.

Like before, Sungchan keeps going, working you through it again and the lewd slippery sounds your cunt makes on his hand have you whimpering, nails scratching his wrist and eyes screwing shut to feel it all until it becomes too much again.

This time, when you weakly push at his forehead, Sungchan pulls back. His forearms support his body up as he hovers over you, lips trailing up your whole body as he kisses and sucks every part of you he can reach. “Such a good damn pussy,” he whispers just over the apex between your thighs. “And such a fucking pretty princess,” he says above your belly button. “Made you cum so good, right?” He questions after he sucks one of your nipples on his mouth again, and you paw at his head. “I could do this all night, doll,” he states before licking your other nipple. “And you’d let me, right?” He says before biting a mark on your clavicle.

When his lips come in contact with your own, you pant inside his mouth, trying to match his kisses even though you’re still gasping for air and with your heartbeat thrumming in your ears. You just loop your arms around his neck and let him kiss you, tasting yourself on his tongue and feeling the heat creeping on your cheeks because of the vulgarity of it all.

He bites your bottom lip when you don’t give him an immediate answer and withdraws with it still between his teeth, digging harshly on your plush and hypersensitive skin until you hiss in pain. Only then he releases it. “Right?” He demands.

Your mind is still hazy and you’re still out of breath post two mind blowing orgasms, but you know better than to deny Sungchan when he’s feeling dominating. “Right,” you mutter in your most docile tone.

He smiles and swipes your cheek with his knuckles, thumb stroking on your abused lip before he presses another kiss on it. “Good girl.”

The praise goes straight to your system and you buzz in excitement, like you’re reawakening because of his words. Suddenly, you feel the urge to show him just how good of a girl you can be, how you can make him feel so good he might even forget his name.

You kiss him again and slip your hands down his body to feel his pecs, then his abs, until finally your fingers wrap around the imprint of his dick on his sweatpants. Sungchan hisses, head resting on the crook of your neck and shoulder, hips thrusting down on your hand.

“I need to suck you off,” you say, pushing him with a hand on his chest to make him sit up as you keep working his erection through his pants with your other hand.

Sungchan follows your directions, pulling your upper half up with him but keeping his arms tight around you, constricting you from moving any further. “If you do that right now, I’m gonna cum,” his whispers with eyes boring into yours, a silent plea in them.

You drop a peck on his lips and look at him with the same intensity as you reply. “Great. Then cum in my mouth.”

Just like that he weakens his hold of you and you’re able to slip from his arms to kneel on the floor, pulling on his waist for him to be in the position you want. Sungchan becomes compliant to your whims, just following your moves. Even though you never assigned each other fixed roles in bed, you are usually the one being pliable and manhandled, so it is a nice change to get him to obey your orders. He drops his legs over the side of the bed where you’re located and gives you enough space to shimmy your body in between them. This time he lets you pull at the string of his sweatpants to slacken it and lifts his hips when you pull down on the waistband of it, your hands removing his briefs, too. Both pieces of fabric pool around his ankles as you hold your head up and pull his face down for another kiss. He lets you kiss him while he gets rid of the clothes surrounding his calves, becoming hyper aware of your hands roaming over his body as his dick remains untouched.

Only when you pull back you get a good look at his cock, red, angry and leaking with precum. You lick your lips and keep rubbing your hands at Sungchan’s skin, and his eyes follow the way your right hand tweaks his nipples and your lips close around the space over his left knee.

“Please don’t tease right now, doll,” he says, voice whiny and eyes urgent as your hands start going down his stomach, your nails slightly scratching his skin. 

“Oh yeah? But I thought you liked teasing,” you say with a smirk before kissing his thigh. He opens his legs some more, opening up more space, and shuffles his pelvis closer to the side of the bed, leaning back on one arm. “Or are you that desperate already?”

He sneers at you repeating his earlier words back to him, but when you finally wrap your hand around the base of his dick, the smile is gone and he opens his mouth in a silent groan, brows furrowing together. Sungchan is so thick and heavy in your hand the tips of your fingers don’t touch your thumb as you grip him. Although his size never fails to impress you, you’re used to it by now, and you’re particularly fond of how much pleasure it brings you.

You just find it unfair how even his dick is pretty. Long and thick, mushroom tip with the same pink tinge of his lips and nipples, standing up with a slight curve that always digs so good on that spongy place inside of you. You move your hand up and down his shaft to smear his slick all over him. Your mouth waters at the sight and soon enough you’re pressing a kiss to his tip and watching him purr, thrusting his hips up to follow the feel of your lips when you move back.

“Stay still,” you command and he purses his lips together and nods. His forehead is already beaded with sweat and you love the image of it. You smile softly at him before you kitten-lick his tip, watching his mouth open to deliver quiets aahs and oohs while you tongue at his slit and the underside of his head.

After a while, you finally take him inside your mouth. His tip prods on your cheek as you suck his dick forcefully and that’s enough to make Sungchan groan, head lolling back. You back away again and he whines, lifting his face to look in your eyes again.

“I know, baby boy. So sensitive, right?” You blow air over his head and he fidgets, wiggling his hips slightly. God, he looks gorgeous surrendering himself for you like this. You’ll have to do this more in the near future.

You smile and run your tongue all around his head, teasing him one last time before enveloping your lips around him again, tongue stroking the underside of his cock. Sungchan grips a hand on your hair, threading the strands of your now lopsided and messy ponytail in between his fingers. You hollow out your cheeks and bob your head up and down for him, hand stroking the rest of his dick where you’re not able to cover with your mouth. He moans at you and you put another hand on his thigh for balance, breathing in deep through your nose and preparing to take him deeper. A second later you’re relaxing your throat as his dick invades that space, too, concentrating on keeping your breath regulated while he thrusts his hips up.

“Just like that, princess,” he whimpers under you.

You hold out for the longest you can before you feel your gag reflex kicking in and then you retreat with a gasp, a string of saliva connecting your bottom lip to his dick, your eyes blurry from unshed tears as you make up for the loss of your mouth with your hand. Sungchan moves both of his hands to your cheeks, holding you tenderly as his thumbs press on your waterline to catch the tears clouding your vision.

When you blink, his face becomes clear to you again. His eyes are glassy and lust filled, his open mouth is panting and his chest, cheeks and neck are splotched. It fills you with pride that he’s gotten into such a fucked-up state just because of you.

“Feels good?” You ask in between deep breaths, trying to fill your lungs with air before preparing to take him in your mouth again whilst you keep pumping his cock.

“Yes. You’ve gotten so good at this, doll. Doing your best job yet,” he says and the pride swells in your chest, an instant ego boost cursing through your system.

Before you met Sungchan, you didn’t care enough about receiving or giving oral. You had a couple of boyfriends before, but you were still inexperienced and slightly disgusted of doing and experimenting certain things. And even though they had given you head before, and you’d tried your best to reciprocate, it was always a means to an end, never the primary goal of your sexual encounters.

But Sungchan was different. The first time he ate you out, he didn’t stop until you finished three times in sequence. It was so good it made you want to do the same for him. He made you feel seductive and bold enough to try new things. And he had the patience to teach you just the way he liked it. He didn’t become frustrated when your rhythm was shitty and you had to take long breaks to breathe before going back at it again. He didn’t push your head to take him all the way when you weren’t prepared. He waited for your affirmative response, leading and encouraging you, praising you whenever you achieved a new skill or did something different. He was good to you. And in turn, you became good for him.

“I like to pleasure you,” you say sincerely and trace your tongue on the vein that runs under his cock.

Sungchan jitters on the bed. “Yeah, and you trained so hard for that, right? Always sucking on my cock like you want to milk me dry, too.”

You nod, suckling and peppering small kisses all over his tip. “I do want to suck you dry.”

He smirks at that and moves his hand to the back of your neck again, tightening his grip. “Then why don’t you put it in your mouth again, baby?”

You smirk back at him and take your last big whiff of air before opening your lips to take him inside again. You hollow out your cheeks and bob your head up and down immediately, gripping at the base of his dick a hand and letting his moans, sighs and hums of approval guide your ministrations. You suction on the parts of his cock your mouth can reach and flatten your tongue on the underside of it, playing with his most sensitive parts while Sungchan keeps praising you.

“Shit. So good to me, doll. Keep doing that,” he grunts and you nod.

When his nails dig on your nape and his tip hits the back of your throat, you breathe through your nose and let him jerk his hips up until your forehead meets his stomach and your nose rubs on his pubic hair. You press both of your hands on his thighs and allow him to use your mouth until you can’t breathe and think straight anymore.

When you back out heaving, Sungchan moves his fingers to your face to catch the droll falling from your lips and clean the tears striking your cheeks. He waits for you to gather your surroundings again, still complimenting you and your work.

“Damn, you’re such a good girl,” he says tenderly, thumbs running over the apple of your cheeks. “Look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

The praise, of course, gets to you again. So, you tighten your grip on the root of his cock, starting to pump him faster, and take your other hand away from his thigh, pressing your fingers together and shaping your palm in a conch-like way to rub it on the tip of his dick, your thumb going under the head to rub at the sensitive spot located there. Sungchan moans loudly at that and you lean over to lick on his balls at the best of your ability giving the position you’re both in, not giving up even if the carpeted floor is digging on your skin.

Sungchan scrunches his eyes closed and slides one of his hands to the back of your neck and moves the other to grasp over yours on the head of his cock, pulling it away to rest them together at his thigh. “I’m close, princess.”

You catch his warning and wrap your lips on his cock again, instantly taking him in your throat as he desperately yanks his hips up in your mouth, fingers pressing on your nape and moans growing heavy and breathless. Your free hand fiddles with his balls, your nose presses on his lower stomach again and you swear you can feel him in your windpipe. And that’s when he releases, painting the inside of your mouth white with thick ropes of cum that only seize after a minute. When his body becomes loose and his hand on your neck turns weak, you pull away with a pop, watching his dick twitch and slap against his stomach.

You breathe deep and press your hands on the mattress on both of his sides to get up slowly, back and knees complaining about being in the same position for long minutes. Despite looking limp and still dazed, Sungchan pulls you to him so quickly you almost lose your balance. He peppers kisses on your belly and boobs while your hands press on his shoulders. And when you groan and move a hand to rub your left knee, he pulls your leg up to place your foot on the bed and hunches to close his lips on your skin, his tongue lavishing against the redness there. It tickles and you chuckle at him, but that doesn’t stop him from giving your right leg the same attention. He places your left foot on the ground and bends your right leg to press your toes on the mattress, repeating the same process. You smile fondly at him and caress his hair while he drops kisses on your right knee. And when he’s done, he slides your leg down so you’re now pressing your knee on the bed on the side of his thigh.

“You’re so good to me,” he whispers as he pulls you in for another kiss.

You press your body closer to his and feel the way his dick is hardening again, rubbing on your thigh, precum wetting it. But as you shuffle to straddle him completely, Sungchan stops you with a hand on your waist.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, voice hoarse from the blowjob. Sungchan doesn’t reply, scooting closer to his nightstand to open his drawer instead.

He pulls a foil packet from the already opened box of condoms and you look at him with confusion written all over your face. You guys have been doing it raw for three months now, ever since you told each other you were clean and not seeing anybody else and you started taking the pill. Sungchan loves finishing inside of you. So of course, you’re a little bit puzzled about why he’s choosing to wear a condom now, all of the sudden.

Well, maybe he’s afraid you met someone else during your time apart, but this possibility doesn’t even make sense. So you try to quash away his worries.

“I haven’t seen anyone else, Sungchan,” you tell him as he opens the foil packet and discards the trash on his night stand, right beside your cell phone.

“I know, doll,” he says back, eyes fleeting on yours for a moment before they focus on wrapping the condom around his dick. His voice sounds confident when he says it and it irks you how he’s so certain you won’t sleep with anyone else. “It’s just quicker to clean up this way.”

You tilt your head to the side and cross your arms. It doesn’t make sense. You can always shower after. That happened all the time. And it frequently led to you having round two in the bathroom, which you are not opposed to at all.

When Sungchan finishes securing the condom on his dick, he grabs your hand to drop a kiss on the back of it and pulls you closer. You budge just slightly and his eyes catch the way your stance is guarded and you’re not opening yourself up for him yet. He smiles, eyes crinkling with the motion. “Come on, princess. We have to be quick, right? Don’t you have to sleep early for that final on your third period tomorrow?”

His words are lovingly convincing and he’s technically right. But you still eye him suspiciously. Your finals are the last thing on your mind right now and you don’t believe Sungchan is worried about your sleep cycle after you just spent almost an hour pleasuring each other. It just doesn’t make sense, your mind screams at you.

You’re sure something is wrong, but when Sungchan starts kissing your clavicle and grabbing at the back of your thighs to pull you against his front, you fold, letting his lips and hands distract you from it. Then you straddle him, eager to have him inside you to pull away from the siren alarm ringing loud inside your head. He’s rock hard again and you take his cock in your hand, slapping it against your pussy lips to share your juices and the condom’s lubricant with each other. Sungchan rests his forehead against yours as you look down together at the scene.

When you move up enough for the head of his cock to catch on your hole, you both sigh, but it slips and hits your clit, so you scoot forward to get better leverage to put him inside you. Sungchan supports you with gripping hands on your back while you move your hips back up and finally his cock prods on your entrance. You’re both sighing together again when he enters you, and when Sungchan meets resistance half his way inside, he pulls you up slightly and rubs your hips, muttering about how good you’re taking him until you release more wetness, your walls fluttering and stretching to accommodate all of him.

Soon enough his thick cock is deep inside you and Sungchan bottoms out with a huff, watching as your pussy envelopes him whole. His mouth is slightly open and his two front teeth show behind his upper lip just like a bunny’s, sweat glistening on his forehead, that heart-shaped spot his hairline makes taunting you again. Your heart swells at the sight of it all, and you hate how cute he is whilst his cock is splitting you open. You place a kiss on the spot on his forehead just like you wanted before and then drop another one on the mole on the corner of his upper lip. Sungchan pulls your lips to his as you experimentally move up and down on him.

“You feel so good, princess,” he moans, breaking the kiss.

“Big,” you whimper out, scratching at his shoulders. “Feels so full, Jinsu.”

He chuckles and kisses on your temple. “I know, princess. But you like it, right?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, grabbing at his chest and gazing at his eyes again. “I like it so much.”

And you do. You like it so much that you start riding him with full energy, needing to show him how much you like him inside you, how much you like him. You try to convey with your body the words you haven’t been able to reveal, trying to show him and yourself how much this is right because of how good it feels. Because maybe if you bounce on his dick just right, suck on his pulse point the way he likes it and give him high pitched moans that compliment his performance he’ll start to like you back.

“You’re so perfect,” he says over your ear, his fringe tickling your cheek. “So fucking perfect.”

You want to scream at him that he’s right, that you are perfect, perfect for him. But instead, you purse your lips together and focus on rolling your hips against his until your thighs burn. Sungchan’s hands are splayed on your butt cheeks and he aids you, helping you by moving you up and down in a steady rhythm. He looks at your face as you scrunch up your nose and close your eyes to focus on keep riding him. You try to pick up your movements, needing a faster place to bounce back on him in a way that doesn’t tire you out as much. But Sungchan keeps slowing you down, distracting you by kissing on your pulse point, fondling your boobs, sucking on your nipples or pulling your face to kiss you. While he showers you with affection with his lips, his hand presses deeply and firmly on your back so you ride him languidly, almost stopping at times when the movements pull hoarse moans out of you both.

After a while, you start slacking because you’re actually becoming tired, trembling and losing your flow completely. Sungchan increases his efforts, trying to move you on him with only his hands, but you already surpassed the time you are usually able to ride him and your body is spent. You press your lips on his clavicle and slump against him, giving up completely.

You feel Sungchan lips on the nape of your neck and then his light chuckle. “Want me to take over?” He asks in a gentle tone.

“Yes please,” you breathe against his sternum.

He rubs the expanse of your legs and kisses your shoulder before pressing his hands on the back of your thighs and getting up with you on his lap. You think he’s going to lay you back on his sheets, but are surprised when he carries you over to his dresser, his hand knocking over and away some bottles of perfume and deodorant as he drops you on top of it. You jolt from how cold the wood feels on your heated skin and his cock slips out of you, making you both laugh a beat later.

“Why not the bed?” You ask breathless and still chuckling, wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his middle as you shuffle to the edge of the dresser, watching Sungchan’s eyes turn into half-moons as he laughs with you.

“Just wanted to have you here, too,” he whispers, draping his arms tight around you and kissing you again.

He’s so playful and happy today, kissing you so much and complimenting you, slowing down and taking his time with you, his touches so careful and gentle you can’t help but start hoping. You hope that this, whatever this new side of him he’s showing you today, means something more. The feeling chews brutally on your heart, making you aware that you probably won’t come out of it alive.

Sungchan hooks one arm under your leg and pulls you to his body until half of your butt is hanging on the edge of the dresser, then grabs at his dick to guide it back to your hole, groaning when he’s fully inside of you again. You think he’s going to thrust his hips hard and fast, but he surprises you one more time by pulling back slowly, almost all the way out, before driving himself inside of you again just as gently. You sigh at the fullness and he does it again, his eyes fixated on where you two meet. This way you can feel every ridge and vein of his cock hitting all the right stops inside you, your toes curling and a moan boiling on your throat from how good it all feels. When he glides back one more time, you lift his head to look into his eyes, and he keeps your gaze as he leisurely fills you up one more time.

 “I love feeling every part of you like this,” he says when he’s bottomed out again, and you think you might die from heartache if he keeps treating you this way.

However, you don’t have the time – and you seriously don’t want to – dwell on it because in the next moment he’s thrusting inside you more forcefully and faster, making you pant and moan profusely again. You let your eyes roam over his form whilst he fucks you deep and hard. He’s so attractive it makes you a little crazy. Sturdy and toned body, a defined chest, six-pack glistening with sweat, biceps flexing as he keeps you in place, veins on his forearms bulging up, a muscular back and firm hips and long strong legs supporting all of it. So tall and strong. His face is ridiculously good-looking, too. Thick brows, wide eyes, a structured nose and pink full lips, his cupid’s bow so well designed you think it was handcrafted by God himself. You don’t know whether to thank him or Sungchan’s parents for putting him in the world. He’s perfect. And great at fucking. You kind of hate him.

Sungchan catches your wandering eyes over him and grins at you. “Like what you see?” He whispers, chest pressing on yours as he slows down his pace.

You roll your eyes. You also hate him for being so smug. “You’re handsome. What should I do? Look away?”

He chuckles and kisses your cheek. “No. You can look all you want, doll. Memorize it even.”

You pinch his shoulders and graze your teeth on his cheek for that and he shakes with laughter. “Such a cocky boy,” you whisper.

He holds your face in both of his hands as his hips keep meeting yours, going back to the slow measured thrusts inside you. “You’re so beautiful, too,” he mutters and kisses you again, halting all of his movements as his tongue darts inside your lips, tasting every crevice of your mouth. But you’re burning inside and you don’t care for slow and sweet anymore. You want him to ruin you, so you buck your hips forward for him to fill you up all over again.

He exhales and bites on your lower lip as you try working him inside of you the same way he was doing, but you fail. Your rhythm is shit and you’re still exhausted from riding him earlier, so you whine and grip his shoulders. “Sungchan, take me back to the bed so you can fuck me right,” you mumble, wiggling your body and trying to hop down the dresser as he keeps pressed against you, peppering kisses over your neck. “Please, Jinsu.”

He draws back from your neck, then, and quickly hooks his arms over your legs, hands splaying on your butt, to carry you back to the bed, remaining connected with you. You like how he makes you feel so small, as if you weigh nothing even though you have fat on your belly and plump thighs and arms. He never comments on it, too, and you’re so grateful for him never making you feel anything but desirable as your back meets his sheets and he hovers over you again. He's big in more ways than one.

You arch your back so his cock keeps filling you up, searching for that place inside you he always hits so good. But Sungchan has other plans, and his hands come to your wrists to stop your movements, holding your hands over your head as he presses all of his body on yours, your boobs squishing against him. His eyes bore into yours as he leisurely presses his cock inside you again and you bear your nails down on his knuckles. You desperately want to feel him with your hands. And you badly want him to stop looking at you with that intense gaze that makes you think – makes you feel – he cares about you the same way you care about him.

When he kisses you again, you can’t take it anymore, huffing at being constrained by your hands and urging him to look at you. “Can you flip me over?” You ask and Sungchan’s eyes shine bright at your sentence. He can never resist having you in doggy and you smile mischievously when you’re already laying on your stomach a second later, Sungchan manhandling you the way he wants.

“Hands and knees, baby,” he instructs and you fumble to obey his command, pushing yourself up and back on your knees and positioning your hands on the bed at the length of your shoulders to support your body.

Sungchan instantly corrects your form, one hand sneaking in between your thighs to spread them further apart and another pressing on your back for you to lean your upper body down, making you arch. You sigh from feeling his warm touch over your skin, wiggling your ass in the air for him. He chuckles at you and gives a soft slap at your right butt cheek and you laugh with him.

“You look so pretty in this position,” he says, now placing himself behind you and shimmying his knees in between your legs. “You know I love to fuck you like this, right?”

“Yes,” you whisper, anticipation building high as you feel him prepare to enter you again. “And I love when you fuck me like this.”

Sungchan hums at you, and you finally feel the warmth of his skin on yours as he slaps his dick over the curve of your ass, making you purr. “And I love this ass, too,” he mutters, resting his cock on your body as his hands grab at your ass. Then he gives it another hit, this time harder than the first one, his palm softly massaging the spot after. You stumble on the bed slightly from the shock, smothering a moan. “Love how it looks when I fuck you.”

You know by now that he’s enjoying his time teasing and playing with you, but you’re so desperate to feel him inside of you again that you don’t mind begging for it. “Jinsu, please. Can you please put it back in?”

He snickers at you and finally finishes rearranging himself, his knuckles brushing against the back of your thighs as he begins tugging on his dick again and guiding it inside you, the head of it pressing on your entrance. “Okay, doll, but just because I want it just as bad as you.”

He slides hard and fully inside you in one go, driving you forward on the mattress. You sigh contently, feeling full and complete. In this new angle, he feels even deeper. Sungchan groans as he feels your cunt spasming around him, one hand gripping your right hip and the other kneading your ass. He pulls back halfway and pushes in again, harder than before, and your eyes roll to the back of your head from how good it already feels.

“You good, princess?” He asks, stilling inside of you.

“Yeah. Feels so deep,” you whisper, leaning the side of your face on the sheets above you to try to look back to him. You only get a glimpse of his left ear and cheek and how his biceps look holding you down, the rest of your view being obstructed by your own body.

“Hmm, I know,” he muses, languidly moving in and out of you, now both of his hands landing on your ass cheeks to spread them apart. You’re pretty sure he’s indulging himself in feeling the plush of your skin spilling between his fingers and watching how your pussy swallows him whole from that angle. He’s addicted to the image and feel of you like this. “I always hit it so deep like this.”

“Uh-huh. And you can hit it harder and faster, too, right?” You tease, pushing yourself back on his cock to make him fuck you swiftly.

He laughs and moves one hand to your hip again, leaning further into you and pressing his hips against yours. “Sorry. Got distracted by your ass again”, he confesses and it’s your time to snicker at him. But soon he begins to drive his cock harder and faster inside you, just like you asked, and your laugh is replaced by moans. “Better now?”

“Fuck yes,” you groan, feeling his dick hit all the right places inside of you. “Please don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he assures you, his hips kissing yours again and again, the sound of your skins smacking together echoing through the room.

He’s been driving you crazy the whole night with his slow and measured thrusts, his gentle and nice words and his overflowing affection, so it’s no wonder you’re already moaning loudly and fisting the sheets of his bed in very little time. Sungchan is no better than you, though. You can hear him grunting every time his hips kiss yours and feel his legs tensing beneath you. He probably planned to excessively and deliberately tease you until you were begging to cum, but he didn’t realize he’d also be overstimulating himself before getting to the finish line. It’s as annoying as it is adorable.

“Holy shit. You really look so good like this, princess,” he grunts, his eyes admiring how your ass jiggles against him with every forceful drive of his cock inside of you. “Wanna burn this image on my mind. I won’t ever forget it.”

Your chest expands at his admission, getting dizzy from the knowledge that he’s so transfixed by you that he says something like that in the heat of the moment. The feeling curls inside your chest and you smile. Maybe he does reciprocate your feelings for him. Who knows?

You open your mouth to say something teasing about his statement, but the words are long forgotten when he reaches his hand up your shoulder to wrap around it and tugs you back against him hard, moving you back to him as he continues driving himself forwards. Your loud moans of his name turn into broken whimpers of random words you don’t even remember thinking.

“So wet and warm for me, gripping me so tight,” he says above you and you wonder how he’s still capable of forming sentences when that ability is now so hard for you. “Fucking perfect.”

“Your dick is perfect,” you try to make out even though your brain is a mess. “You are perfect.”

He moans and grips you tighter, showing he understood you. “Thank you, doll. Now c'mere,” he says, moving his palm on your shoulder the other way around, hooking it under you. “Wanna feel your skin on mine when you cum.”

Again, he maneuvers you the way he wishes to. With his cock still inside you, he removes his legs from between yours to position them outside of you now, putting pressure so you have no choice but to drive your legs together. The movement makes your pussy snugger around his cock and he moans, halting for a beat to bask in the feeling of it. Then he pushes your upper half up, hauling you up with his grip on your shoulder, making you raise yourself again until your back meets his chest. You feel prickles on your arm at the close contact and sweat makes you both sticky, your skin gluing you to him as Sungchan now moves a hand to grab at one of your tits and the other one to cross over your whole waist, clinging your body to his.

You’re molded together. You won’t complain about it.

He rests his chin on your shoulder and grazes his thumbnail on your nipple, making you hiss. Then he starts moving again, his hips driving backwards and forwards with enough force to drive you away from him. Except his arms are still steady and firm around you, keeping you connected even through his hard thrusts inside of you, and you reach down to grip his thighs, your nails scratching him.

“That’s it, princess, taking me so well,” he rasps on your ear and you bite on your bottom lip to keep yourself from being too loud.

“Shit, Jinsu, I think I’m-" You try to stutter out, your voice becoming high and airy as the head of his cock rubs deliciously on your g-spot.

“Fuck yeah, I can feel you clenching around me,” he says and after his words you feel your cunt contracting even more, trying to keep him inside of you forever. “You’re going to cum for me one last time?”

“Yesyesyes.” You turn your head slightly back so you can rest your forehead on his temple. He turns his face to yours, too, and you watch as droplets of sweat fall from his hair to his face. You move your hand to his face to keep him there and Sungchan does the same with the hand that was gripping your waist, moving it to the side of your face to stroke over your cheekbone with his fingers. “I’m so close, Jinsu,” you murmur, lips ghosting over his.

“Me too, princess,” he replies and drops a kiss on the corner of your lips. “Let’s do it together, okay?”

You nod just as he slides his hand from your boob to your clit, rubbing it in quick little circles. The added stimulation on your clitoris makes you light-headed and you try to grip at the last shreds of your sanity to stay in the moment with him. Sungchan’s eyes shine against yours and you overwhelm your senses trying to concentrate on feeling everything at once. His hands and hold all over you, his fingers coaxing your orgasm out of you, his legs hitting on the back of your thighs, his hair brushing against your forehead, the smell of him and of sex – the smell of both of you together – invading your nostrils, his strength driving his hips against yours, his perfect dick hitting inside of you so good, his voice whispering dirty sweet nothings to you. And his lips that attach to yours the moment you’re on the edge of breaking apart, finally making you cum.

Sungchan kisses you while your pussy convulses on his cock and he thrusts inside you one, two, three more times until he’s spilling inside the condom. You keep clenching around him, trying to milk him until the last drop, and he keeps stroking your clit and kissing your lips. Only when your body starts twitching from the overstimulation and you grab at his forearm, he removes his hand from your cunt and detaches his lips from yours to kiss your cheek next. You sigh lazily, trembling on his arms as he pecks the same spot over and over, still muttering compliments and thank you’s. You can’t make out what he’s saying exactly because your blood is still ringing in your ears, your heart is beating rapidly, your thighs are sore and your body is starting to feel the first signs of exhaustion. So, you caress his forearm and hope it’s enough to return the sentiment.

His grip on you loosens just a little and you try to shift ahead. Sungchan, of course, notices your movement, and in no time he’s delicately laying both of you back on the bed, your heated chest rubbing against the cool sheets becoming a luxury as he keeps his rib cage connected to your back, being careful not to drop his full weight on you. He closes his lips over your shoulder blades and you indulge yourself in the attention and tenderness he’s still giving you while you catch your breath.

After some time of exchanging lazy caresses and quick kisses, he finally disconnects his body from yours, pulling out of you and getting up to tie off the end of the condom. You instantly miss his warmth and wrap a hand around his wrist, turning on your side to look at him. He smiles at you and bends over to kiss your forehead quickly.

“I have to drop this in the trash and clean myself a little. I’ll be back in a minute,” he states and gives you another kiss, this time on the lips. Then he tugs his briefs back on, turns and walks out of the bedroom in the direction of the bathroom.

You exhale deeply as you turn your head to the ceiling, watching the shadows casted on it by the small droplets of rain still falling randomly outside. Your mind starts to work right away, trying to recap everything you just lived with Sungchan to hunt for signs of his feelings for you. But you’re so tired you banish the thoughts to the back of your head, covering yourself with the bedding from your toes to your head in a feeble attempt to hide from your own mind.

Sungchan is back a minute later, laying on the bed and draping himself all over and around you. You pinch his ribs when he drops his full weight on your stomach and he laughs, pulling at the sheets to see your face and body again. Once your head is out, he threatens to tickle you in retaliation for the tweak in his chest and you lift your arms in surrender, laughing with him.

When you’re both done laughing, Sungchan takes your hands in his and pins them to the bed beside your head, then kisses you. You smile between the soft press of his lips, giddy in oxytocin and pleasure.

“You should probably use the bathroom, too,” he states when he pulls back and you know he’s right. You need to pee and freshen up. And find the courage to leave his house and go to yours. You still have an exam in the morning. “I’ll grab your clothes from the dryer while you’re at it.”

You sigh dramatically and pull yourself from the bed and Sungchan’s arms. He chuckles and hands you a sheet to cover your body before you make your way to the bathroom, murmuring about how “Shotaro could get home anytime”.

You nod and when you turn to walk away, he gives a pat at your bottom, making you yelp. You look over your shoulder to shoot daggers at him with your eyes, but the smile on your face lets him know it’s all in good fun.

Inside the restroom, you take your time peeing and stretching your limbs back to their places. You hope the soreness from being tense or in the same positions for too long will go away after a good night's sleep. Then you step into the shower to quickly rinse yourself of any bodily fluids and sweat, cleaning your hands methodically and letting some water fall into your messy hair. You wrap your body with the same towel you used earlier and move to stand in front of the mirror again to finger-comb your hair back in a ponytail. But the lilac polka dotted bow scrunchie you had on isn’t with you anymore, probably getting lost around Sungchan’s room in the midst of everything.

You come back from the bathroom and find Sungchan seated on his bed, waiting for you already dressed and with your dried clothes placed by his side, a pensive look in his face while he stares at the wall opposed to him.

“I think I lost my scrunchie,” you say to him, pouting both because your favorite hair accessory and because Sungchan is already clothed. You were hoping you’d ogle his body some more before going.

Sungchan’s head snaps up when you arrive, like you’ve caught him off guard while his mind was elsewhere, but he promptly shakes his reaction off with a smile. “We’ll search for it later.” He puts your clothes on his lap and invites you closer. “Here, I’ll help you dress.”

You saunter over to him and stand in between his legs, thinking he’s just going to hand you each piece of your clothing as you dress up. He surprises you when he picks up your panties, holding it with his two hands inside its waistband, and bends down, lowering the item so you can pass your legs through the openings.

You quirk an eyebrow up at him. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he replies with a smirk, staying very still as you analyze him, gaze unwavering on yours. You shrug and do as he pleases, standing on one foot and then on the other as you pass your legs through the loops successfully one at a time. He tugs the underwear up until it’s placed correctly around your hips, then pinches gingerly on the place where your right thigh becomes your right butt cheek, as he proudly says, “Atta girl.”

You roll your eyes at him. “I think you’re kinda obsessed with my ass.”

He smiles and preens his neck up to kiss on your clavicle. You fight the urge to search the contact of his lips again when he retreats. “You’re right, I kinda am.” Then he picks up your bra next and signals his forefinger up and in a circular motion for you to turn around.

You turn on your heels and Sungchan’s fingertips start caressing both of your arms, moving softly along your biceps until your forearms and then to your wrists, bra still on his right hand between his pinky and ring fingers. Once he gets to your hands, he hooks the straps of the undergarment over your arms and pulls it up until each one is located on your shoulders. His hands go to your back to close the clasp, and you feel the teeth in the clip nipping slightly at your skin as he fastens it. He drops a kiss on your scapula and goosebumps raise all over your body. You wonder if he’s doing this on purpose, if his plan is to tease you and ruin you again and, at least, if this is as hot to him as it is to you. If he keeps this up, you might only get out of his place in the morning.

He grabs at your hips and turns back to him again, then holds your jeans, scrunching up the fabric of the legs so you can see the openings from the waistband until the bottom hems. That’s when you break your silence. “Is this some type of kink of yours?”

He chortles at you and holds the pants down for you to put on. You comply, passing your legs through the openings just like you did with the panties, and letting him yank it up. You pay attention to his eyes as he does it. His gaze sparkles as he watches your skin disappearing between his fingers and behind the fabric. You think it’s kind of cute and it reminds you of when you were little and did the same with your toys, changing their outfits nearly every minute. He’s playing with you as if you really are his doll, dressing you up for him. But behind the glow on his eyes, you also catch a hint of longing. Something indescribable, that you can’t quite put your finger on.

Sungchan drums his fingers around the waistband of your jeans until they go around all the way to find the button on its front. “Not a kink,” he says sincerely, pressing the button through its loop and then moving his digits down the fly to feel around for the zipper. “Just doing something nice for you.”

“Why?” You question, suspicious eyes falling over his face as he focuses on tugging the zipper up and securing your fastened pants.

He shrugs. “Because I want to.” Then, he hooks his fingers on the belt loops in front of your pants and pulls on them, therefore also pulling you to him. “Because you deserve it,” he says simply with a smile.

You blush at his words, smiling back at him and leaning down to press a kiss on his lips. You want to get lost in his mouth again. You want to get rid of your clothes once more and lay down with him in this bed for a week, finals and chores and college responsibilities be damned. But Sungchan, ever the responsible one, withdraws and puts some distance between your bodies before you get too eager.

“There’s still some clothes left to put on,” he says, snickering when you sigh in response.

You cave in to his will, collaborating with him to put your shirt over your head and then your hoodie. When you’re completely dressed and you straighten the clothes on your body, Sungchan finishes his little game of dress up by tying the strings of your sweater together with a bow. “Pretty girl,” he says.

“Pretty boy,” you say back, moving to sit on his lap, your legs perpendicular to his, one arm going around his shoulders and the other one resting over his, your fingers poking on the collar of his shirt, nails scratching the skin underneath. “I just think it’s a little unfair that I didn’t get to help you dress.”

He chuckles and moves his hand to close around yours, turning it to press his lips on your knuckles. “Maybe another time.”

You scrunch your nose up, obviously not satisfied with his reply. “Another time, then. I should probably get going anyway.”

Sungchan nods, but instead of letting you go, he pulls you close once more, wrapping his arms around your middle, his hands rubbing your back and his face hiding between your neck and shoulder. You hug him back just as tight, running your fingers through his hair while he breathes in your scent and presses kisses into every part his lips can reach. You stay like this for what feels like hours. Every time you think he’s done, he fixes his hold to hug you even tighter, almost binding you two together. When he finally slackens his grip a little, it’s only to move his hand to the back of your head and coax your lips in his. His tongue enters your mouth hungry and yearning, and you kiss him back with all the energy you can muster up. Just like all the kisses before, this one leaves you breathless and dazzled. Your mind is already fogged up and numb by the time he finally pulls back and, with moist lips and a piercing gaze, presses his mouth to yours one final time.

“You should probably get going,” he repeats back to you. You have to blink your eyes open two times to understand what he’s saying and command your wobbly legs to remember how to stand up again. “I’ll give you a ride.”

You nod at him and when you get up from his lap, Sungchan slides his hands down your shoulders to your upper arms, then to your forearms and wrists. He squeezes your hands two times before letting you go. You move to his nightstand to retrieve your cell phone, now charged and full of notifications you still leave unopened, and put it in your pocket. Then you bend down to plug the charger out of the switch.

“Uh, I actually wanted to talk to you about something before you go,” Sungchan says the moment you take the charger out and you hear the uncertainty in his words, the fear.

Your heart skips a beat, your mind already whirring with a thousand possibilities of whatever he has to say. But you try to keep your expression emotionless and your eagerness at bay while you stand upright again. “Sure. What is it?” You roll up the charger’s wire and nod to him, encouraging him to keep going before turning on your heels to put your things away in your bag.

You’re already with your back turned to him, crouching down to your backpack and opening the zipper of its front pocket when he speaks again. “You remember the girl I partnered up with for my organic chemistry project?”

You pause when you hear him. The zipper’s slide is still as ever beneath your fingertips, the sound of the teeth getting dragged away completely stopping as you remain unmoving. You can sense something is wrong. You feel it in your bones. Whatever his next words are going to be, you’ll not like it one bit.

If Sungchan notices your momentary stillness, he doesn’t make any comment about it. You feel suspended in the air, on the edge of an information that’ll make you jump over the cliff. You wish you could go back to two minutes ago, when you didn’t know he had something to tell you. But your curiosity and the red flags you so carefully stepped around before now come to the forefront of your mind. And you take the bait, dragging the teeth of the zipper back until its stop to mask up for any agitation in your voice when you reply. “The sophomore majoring in biology? Yeah, what about her?”

“We’ve been hanging out for a while now,” he replies quickly this time while you’re putting your charger inside the bag and closing the pocket back. “It’s been working out pretty well.”

You stand up, then, and Sungchan pauses. He’s probably inspecting your reaction before letting the full truth out. You know exactly what he’s going to say. He’s about to reject you, to choose her over you. You wish you couldn’t be able to hear right now. But you need to listen to him so you can move on from whatever this fucked-up thing between you two is. And you decide you need to see it, too, turning around to watch him and crossing your arms over your chest, waiting for the impact.

“I actually really like her,” he says, eyes fixed on the spot behind you on the wall, not quite looking at you. His tone is heavy on the really. He probably just likes you. But her? He really likes her.

And there it is. The whole truth. All those things you ignored before had been there for a reason. The two weeks with no contact. The text on his laptop that he scurried to hide from you. His insistence on wearing a condom. The many kisses, the slow fucking, the compliments. His intense gaze. Even his fucking words.

“I love it when you call me that.”

“I love feeling every part of you like this.”

“Wanna burn this image on my mind. I won’t ever forget it.”

“You’re fucking perfect.”

“Wanna feel your skin on mine when you cum.”

“You’re going to cum for me one last time?”

All of those words weren’t because he’s in love with you. He didn’t really miss you, either. Maybe your body, sure. But not you, not really. Not at all.

The only reason why he was saying all of that was because he was savoring his time with you. He was saying goodbye. And you fell for it like a fool.

You have every right to be mad at Sungchan for taking advantage of your vulnerable self just to fuck you one last time. He likely planned to just keep ghosting you until you got the message, but then you called him and offered the perfect opportunity of a farewell shag on a silver platter. And he wasn’t going to reject it. He played his cards right, of course.

But you’re not mad at him. At least he gave you three earth-shattering orgasms before breaking your heart.

You’re really mad with yourself. Because you fucking knew it. The signs were everywhere. His silence about the status of your relationship wasn’t because he liked you too much to confess to you or because he was afraid you’d not like him back. It was a strategy. It was about keeping you on his side for as long as he wanted to have you. Good and easy pussy. He didn’t even have to make an effort to lie to you. You did it yourself, bending the truths so you could keep being with him, in whichever way he’d let you.

Plus, there’s no way a man like Sungchan would settle for someone like you. You just choose to push away all the hints he gave you just to feed on crumbs of his affection. A trauma response or some shit like that, no doubt. You’d have to ask your psychology student friend.

God, you really are pathetic.

“You’re not going to say anything?” Sungchan asks, and you notice you’ve been lost throwing a pity party on your own thoughts for a while.

To your merit, you shake it off like a champ, smiling at him and falling into your chill girl persona. “That’s great, Jinsu,” you say, smiling even though you’re dying inside. “I guess that means we should stop meeting up, right?”

Sungchan’s eyes widen. He obviously wasn’t expecting that reaction. You’ve probably shown your feelings for him a little too much and that made him real sure you’d have an outburst. But you’re a chill girl right now.

Chill girls don’t care about their flings liking someone else. Chill girls don’t want to know everything about it, too. They aren’t curious in the slightest about how long he’s been seeing her, how many times he’s fucked her, if he calls her princess and doll too and if she’s been on the same sheets they’ve just cummed all over in.

And chill girls particularly don’t mind when their friend with benefits for half a year is choosing someone he’s only known for two months over them.

He recovers quickly, looking sheepish while he nods, his cheeks blushing. “Yeah, would that be a problem? I’m actually planning to ask her to be my girlfriend this weekend.”

Shit, you didn’t need to know that. It hurts a little too much. Your smile falters for a beat. Then you turn away from him, busying yourself with picking your backpack up to put it over your body. “No problem at all.”

But Sungchan plays with your feelings until the end, putting his hands on your shoulders to spin you back to face him. “Are you really okay with this?” He questions with his best puppy eyes.

He’s still cute while he does it. What a fucker. Now you hate him for real.

If he thinks you’re going to spill your heart out to him and ask him to choose you, pick you, love you in a rendition to Meredith Grey’s speech, he’s very wrong. You still have some pride left.

“Yes. I’m happy for you, Jinsu,” you reply through gritted teeth, the same frozen smile from earlier on your face. You can only be so chill about this and he’s pushing it.

“Oh!” He exclaims after your words, like a lightbulb went out in his head. He at least has the decency to stutter and seem embarrassed as he asks, “Uh… Would you mind going back to call me by my name, too?”

Of course. You just lost your privilege to his nickname. Jinsu is reserved for his close friends and his soon-to-be girlfriend. And, obviously, he can’t risk his new girl hearing another woman calling him such an intimate pet name. She’d have questions.

And you’re nothing for him anymore. You have to stick with his name now.

“Of course, Sungchan.”

“Thanks, princess,” he says, and you quirk an eyebrow up at him. If you can’t call him Jinsu, his nicknames for you are forbidden, too. He covers his mouth with a hand when he notices what he said. “Sorry. Y/N.”

After that, you both walk to the foyer to put on your sneakers so Sungchan can take you home. You don’t want to be in his presence anymore and you try to argue that you would be okay getting an Uber, but he blabbers on about how he insists about it and that’s the least he could do.

You agree just to get it over with. Sungchan picks his car key from the holder in the hall and opens the door for you. You get a last look at his place before stepping out. You feel weird once you’re out and the door closes behind you, realizing that you’ll never be inside his house again. The feeling churns in your heart and your eyes prickle, but you breathe deep and will it to go away.

You both are silent the whole two flights of stairs down his garage. And you stay like that while you get in his car and he turns the engine on, still not speaking a thing as he drives out of the small building complex and takes the path to your home. The only noise is the music coming out the radio and his old car sputtering up.

Luckily enough, your apartment is just a ten-minute drive from his. When he stops the car at your building’s curb, you gather your things from the carpet and say your goodbye. But Sungchan puts his hand over your, though, stopping you from opening the door.

“Can I have one last hug?” He has the audacity to ask.

That’s when you break your chill act.

You look over at him with raw and rough hatred. And he sees it, because he instantly retreats his fingers from you and flinches on his seat. “No, Sungchan,” you almost growl at him, venom dripping from your mouth. “I think your girlfriend wouldn’t like that.”

She probably will not like finding your favorite scrunchie inside the first drawer of his nightstand where you left it before getting out of his room, too. But that’s not your problem to deal with.

After your final words, you open the door and get out of his car, practically running inside your complex. You stay somber while you walk inside and wait for the elevator. You stay solemn while you ride the elevator, waiting for it to get to your floor. You even remain serious while you type your code in and finally get inside your house.

But when you take your shoes off and drop your bag on the floor, your entryway light flickers over your head for a few seconds until the bulb goes out, leaving you in complete darkness. You stare into the dark and are also met with the silent empty space of your apartment.

You move your hand to the bow on your hoodie, the last snippet of your encounter with Sungchan you still have on. You pull on the strings and it disappears. Then you break down, curling over yourself until you’re on your knees, releasing loud sobs with chunks of tears coming out of your eyes.

What comes after is… being utterly alone. 

author’s note: phew! thank you for reading this little monster. please consider letting me know what you think about it in the comments or my askbox. feel free to scream at me all you want, i welcome it! <3

[mrsdesade]

Hey, could you write a homelander x reader where she works at Vought and unknowingly gets his attention and he stalks her?

Hi dear anon, thanks for your patience!! I don't have much time to write full fics these days, because life is happening and I'm very busy physically and mentally, but I can happily offer some headcanons 💕

Homelander's obsessive behaviors headcanons

First of all, his romantic gestures, while seemingly sweet, are often rooted in his need for control and his inability to understand healthy relationships. His actions can be seen as manipulative and even frightening, especially when considering his overall personality and powers.

Constant surveillance: He would employ his super hearing and x-ray vision to keep a constant watch on you. He might use these abilities to monitor your home, workplace, or any other place you frequently visit.

Data collection: He'd collect as much information as possible about his current obsession: you. This could include your daily routines, social media activity, and even your deepest fears and desires. He might use his Vought resources to access private databases.

Preserving memories: Homelander might keep a collection of items that remind him of you, like a lock of your hair or a piece of your clothing. Oh God If you gift something to him, he's going to cherish this like a museum piece.

Love bombing: He'll shower you with love and attention, he loves doing it, especially at the beginning of the relationship, to reel you in.

Unwanted gifts: Homelander would often leave small, often expensive gifts for his favourite persons in unexpected places. These gifts could be anything from flowers to jewelry, and they would always be personalized to show how well he knows you. Often with small notes inside. Doll, baby, my girl, nicknames are on plate.

Sudden appearances: Homelander would frequently appear where you least expects him. He might show up at yor work, your home, or even a random location you're visiting. At least three times at week, minimum.

Testing your loyalty: He might create situations to test your loyalty to him. This could involve putting you in a difficult position or asking you to do something that makes you uncomfortable.

Excessive praise: When you two are together he would shower you with compliments, often going overboard and making you feel uncomfortable. He might even compare you to other people, always putting you on a pedestal. You're his precious treasure and he loves you so goddamn much.

Isolation tactics: He might try to isolate you from their friends and family at some point, making you believe that he is the only one who truly understands your needs.

Future planning: He might make elaborate plans for your future together, down to the smallest details, without ever consulting you. He'll make grand plans for the two of you for sure. This could include things like buying a house together or having children.

Gaslighting: If you decide to start to question his behavior, Homelander might resort to gaslighting. He could make you doubt their own perceptions and memories, making you believe that you're just imagining things.

Public displays of affection: Homelander might engage in very public displays of affection, such as putting his arm around you in front of a crowd, or giving you a very long, lingering kiss. This is partly to show off his "perfect couple" image, but also to mark his territory.

Obsession with physical touch: Homelander might find ways to touch you, in every moment, he need that, even if it's just brushing against them or holding their hand. He would crave any form of physical contact.

Nightmares and sleep disturbances: His obsession for you would consume his thoughts, leading to vivid nightmares and difficulty sleeping. He might even develop a fear of losing you really easily. Despite his outward confidence, Homelander has a deep-seated fear of being abandoned. This fear can lead him to become increasingly possessive and controlling.

-------

Thanks again for the request, enjoy! Kisses kisses! 💕

[fallenneziah]

hello!!! Sorry to bother or bother you, but I was wondering if you could tell me Tmnt Bayverser's reaction to a reader doing parkour? like they are very good at it, but as no one is perfect sometimes they end up with some marks on their bodyfor example, the reader reaches out to greet Bumblebee and the Optimus eyes fixate on the purple bruise on the reader's skin

Optimus: You're running again, aren't you?

reader: yes!!! I broke my record!!

At first I was a tiny bit confused since you seemed to reference Ninja Turtles but then you brought up transformers... So I'm assuming you want Transformers. Thanks for the asks anon, I apologize for this being stuck in my drafts for so long. 😓

Transformers x Reader who does Parkour.

I'd like to think that they aren't that new to the concept. Thri seeking, tricks, jumping around on things and still doing it even after getting hurt.

I'm sure other than the very extreme gladiator pit and other training arenas that they had things like that on Cybertron.

Although you are different from them, so Optimus doesn't totally understand why you would do something that would cause you pain.

When he saw your bruises and callouses when meeting you he was curious.

He bent down, looking at you, scanning you. Then he introduced himself. "My name is Optimus Prime," you do your best to shake his hand, holding onto his finger. That's when he noticed a bruise on your bicep.

He hummed thoughtfully. "You're injured." You looked down and chuckle. "No, I'm not, I'm actually just a sporty person. The bruises are normal."

"Do you need medical examination?"

"Nah, I'll be alright." You smile at him, and Optimus nods.

Overtime of your friendship with the team they come to understand more of what you do. Bumblebee will drive with you to the outdoor climbing park so he can watch you from some feet away as you do your thing.

He used to be something of a parkour artist on Cybertron as well I would think. But they did become much more concerned for you.

You returned to base early, huffing and puffing, covered in sweat when you saw Optimus, his attention stolen by your state. "Y/n, I'd wondered if you'd disappeared. Are you alright??"

You nodded, bending down and settling your hands on your knees. "I'm good, big guy- phew- oh man that was fun."

Optimus raised an optic ridge and approached, kneeling down to you again. "You've been running again then?" You nod, leaning against his hand that he offers so you can relax. When you grab on he notices a few setting bruises.

"Seems you've been busy."

"I had to break my record." You pant, looking up at him with an electrifying smile.

Optimus firmly nods, hearing the sound of bumblebee coming over, noticing you. His radio going off with a "Hallelujah everybody!"

You chuckle breathlessly and smile. "Hey 'Bee! I broke my record!!"

Bumblebee revs his engine and bends down next to Optimus, who leans you back up and steps back for some space.

"Oh yeah 'Bee." You showed him your watch, which had recorded your time. "Look at that 😄"

Bumblebee whirred loudly, giving you a fist bump.

He noticed the bruises, whining softly, checking them. "Oh they aren't too bad 'Bee. I'm just a little banged up."

Your way of explaining bruises to the team had been it's essentially buffering, the dent stays for a bit until your body buffers it out.

'Bee nodded, gently patting your head.

Now, If Ratchet ever saw your injuries you know he's be ready to lecture you. Telling you how humans are inherently stupid for getting themselves hurt all the time. Unless you point out how they fight and get hurt all the time... Then he'll shut up and just look you over.

He doesn't dislike you, he cares for you and your fragile human body very much.

Overtime they get used to you coming back with minor injuries like bruises. Bumblebee even gets into how big can the bruise get?? And you entertain the idea while the others just... Watch in disbelief of you two.

And then one day you come back with a little more than a bruise. Bumblebee came to pick you up, whirring when he saw the wrist guard you were wearing.

"It's ok 'Bee, just a sprain."

'Bee whirred his engine. and on the way back to their little hideout you told him what a sprain was.

Yeah, don't even get me started on what happened when Optimus saw that. Sauntering into base without a fully functioning hand!? Off to Ratchet!

"Y/n, you need to be more careful." Optimus said while leading you to Ratchet.

"I know, but we've got medical tools to help me heal Optimus, it's not like I'm dying." You teased.

He shot you a look, a brief note of frustration, before resting his expression again. "I am still going to let Ratchet look at you."

You gulped. Aw man...

When Optimus brought you in, Ratchet reacted how you can expect. He crossed his arms and took a look at your hand. "You aren't being careful." He said firmly.

"I am-"

"No more running, even after you heal." He said firmly.

"Yeah, well you can't ban me." You also crossed your arms.

Optimus sighed softly, giving his old friend a look. They didn't understand, but hey, if you wanted to do it, they couldn't stop you. They just worried when you got hurt.

[footballffbarbiex]

To Make A Point

and in the first instance of "letting my thoughts run wild".....enjoy.

the gif is a major indicator of what is happening. and yeah. it's smut. warnings: mentions of thigh riding, dirty talk, praise, pussy eating, fingering, nipple play, spitting to get you wet.

sprawled out before him in a barely there bra, the cups of it askew from the way Trent has moved the fabric out of the way to suck your nipples between those beautiful lips of his and lapped his tongue over them until they'd formed hard peaks. pleasure flows throughout you, rippling out from where his mouth connects with your breast.

your panties were removed what feels like hours ago and your exposed core leaves a wet mark upon his thigh with each movement.

"keep doing that baby and I'll think you're trying to ride it." he speaks his words onto your skin, his tongue continuing to lap against you as often as he can as he speaks before his teeth gently pull on it until you whimper at the light pinch.

"I really need you to eat my pussy Trent," you sound downright pathetic but it works. "please baby, show me how good you can make me feel."

his hands trace over your body, each time getting lower and lower as he begins to kiss his way from the valley of your breasts down your navel and to between your thighs. here, while his eyes are fixed on you, his fingers smooth up and down, parting your lips and pinning your clit between his first two fingers. the slow drag makes your cunt tighten and your clit throb against him.

"I dont think you're all that wet, you must not want me enough." he teases, thumb swiping over your clit; making you buck your hips as much as possible and arch your back. your breathing is board line pants now and you're not ashamed to consider actual begging for him to satisfy you.

"better use that mouth then." you suggest, eyes widening as he nods in agreement and purses his lips together. he spits quickly in a perfect aim, the hot liquid hitting it's mark on your slit. the two fingers that had enveloped your clit drag downwards, smearing his saliva over your pussy and mixes it with your own wetness.

"you like that, huh?" he asks, already knowing the answer as he feels your core contract in a tight hold as his fingers near your hole. "didn't think you'd be one for spitting." he chuckles, watching as he smears the mixed liquids over you.

"neither did I," your confession is quiet, the extra lubricant only adding layers of sensitivity to the lightness of Trent's touch. he stimulates the outside of your pussy in such a way, you don't know how much longer you'll be able to hold on before climaxing.

"look at you." he mockingly coos, "getting so overstimulated and I've barely touched you. trying to ride my thigh, rubbing this fucking beautiful pussy all over my leg just to get yourself off. so needy."

"I desperately need you."

"I can see that." he nods, pursing his lips again to blow cool air over you. you tighten up again and a soft moan sounds.

"please."

"please what?" he asks you, eyes locking onto yours as he waits for your answer.

"please lick my pussy Trent." you say in a tone that expresses more than your verbalised need does.

he doesn't reply, but while he keeps his gaze on your face, he presses his mouth to your cunt and begins to lap.

[flowerfreya]

The Office AU

part 17 - Poly!141 The men are trying to show reader that they like , but she has some issues reading the signs Pairing: poly!141 x reader

There has been a lot of causal touching. That you are starting to slowly freak you out. 

Everytime John calls you into his office to ask for a really simple and almost down right disrespectful task that he is asking for you to do. 

“Hey bird, need your help for something”, John calls to you , leaning against the doorway in his office. 

“Sure, let me just find a stopping point”, you could stop at any point but just wanted to seem like you were doing something, not because you aren't doing anything but because you always finish your work early in the day. Standing up and walking over to his office , he puts his hand on your lower back as you walk in, it has you stiffening up and developing a little sweat on your hands. You don’t know what he means when he touches you like this. 

Is he doing it on purpose? 

Does he always touch women like this or just you? 

Does he like me ? 

“Can’t figure out the printer again”, he says, a little too shameful. Considering you’ve shown him how to do this a couple of times already and he just seems to not be getting it. You go over the steps again , sitting down in his chair and you swivel around to him to see if he’s got it. 

“Does that make sense”, you ask him. Look up at him. He then crowds your space and points to the screen and asks a question but you miss it because all you can do is feel his body heat. 

He’s standing right behind you leaning over, which puts some weight on his body on your shoulder. 

You breathe in long and hard and swear you can smell his deodorant and a little of his natural body musk. 

You want to have an oxygen mask of just that scent and only have that survive. 

He brings you out of the haze when he lays his hand on you shoulder, “think I got it, hen” 

“Got what”, you ask. 

“Seems like it printed”, he says, then points to the door frame where Gaz is standing holding what looks to be about 20 copies of some order form. 

“Oh”, you let out quietly, standing up from his chair , “let me know if you need anything else”, you say as you walk out. Going immediately to the bathroom and re applying some powder because you know you are shiny after going through that tortuous 20 minutes. 

You do your nails almost every two weeks. Since you do it yourself it takes forever and you always had a design or too and you’ve been getting better at it. 

So when Soap grabs both of hands and stares at your nails, you forget that you did themand the only thought that is going through your head is that his hands are soft. 

“This look right good," he says , leaning on your desk and bringing your hands closer to his face. 

“Yer did it yourself?”, he ask and you know it takes a second to answer him but he’s still holding your hands and it’s kinda hard to focus. 

You answer and it gets you excited about your nails. You're super proud of them. 

Then god damn him , he starts giving your hands a massage. 

You were not prepared for that, letting out a quick but low moan. 

It has Soap stopping what he’s doing , giving your a little smirk , “feel good?”. 

“J-just surprised me is all”, it did feel good but you didn’t want him to know that, you don’t even know how he feels about you. 

He still flirts with everyone that comes in this office. And he’s playful. Maybe a bit too playful. You’ve done playful before and that just turn into taking care of all the important stuff because “your better at that stuff” and whole bunch of resentment. 

Pulling your hands away slowly , you thank him for the compliments and start to open your yogurt that doubles as your breakfast. As he walks away, “that yogurt is expired”, he says. Which has you looking down and you see the expiration date of two days ago. 

[aayakashii]

❤️17 fluffy towa please!!

i LOVEE your fics so muchh keep up the good work!! :D

17❤️ An upside-down "Spider-Man" kiss

21❤️ wildcard

This is very short but I hope you guys like it! It's not proof read, so forgive any grammar mistakes ;w;

You braced yourself as you approached the pathway that led straight to your dorm, holding the straps of your backpack tightly. You breathed deeply and steeled your resolve, gathering all the courage you had in you.

That night, you were going to put an end to that. That night, you wouldn’t get spooked. That night, in fact, you planned to act on your revenge plan once and for all.

You would NOT let Towa jump at you from the tree branches and startle you out of your skin like he had been doing for the past week.

It started innocent, it truly did. The first time he just wanted to show you the tree he loved so much – the one with dimming colored lights.

But apparently, your reaction was so interesting, that Towa simply couldn't have enough of it and what was supposed to be one silly little prank, soon became almost a daily routine.

“Boo!” Towa dropped from the tree, legs firmly holding him on the branch as his upper body was upside down and dangling in front of you.

“WAAH!” you jumped in place, almost colliding with his face.

“Hehehe! Dandelion, your reactions are so cute. I love them!” he said, blushing furiously as all the blood from his body went straight to his head while he dangled in front of you like a Christmas tree ornament.

You tried very hard to look him in his eyes instead of the exposed skin of his tummy. He had a mole right next to his belly button and it took all your self-control not to touch it nor pinch that apparently soft skin.

You put a hand over your racing heart and sighed, shutting your eyes tightly.

“Towa! This is the fourth time in, like, seven days! You're gonna give me a heart attack!”

He quickly sat upright on the branch again and leapt down, walking leisurely towards you as if he didn't just show insane core strength and aerobic prowess.

“I can't help it, you're so cute. I like seeing you surprised.”

You pursed your lips in a thin line. There it was. His flirting. You still weren't used to it after all that time.

“Well it's not that fun for me, you know… I get scared.”

Towa pouted, giving you his killer puppy eyes.

“Awww… but I like it.” He shrugged, completely ignoring your complaints, and grabbed your hand. “Now let's go see the tree!”

It was basically a new routine you'd have to be prepared for at that point: Towa would spook you, grab your hand and pull you towards the tree. Then you two would hug it and lay down to watch the stars until he'd begin to fluster you whenever he hovered a little bit too close for comfort from your lips. And your poor heart would beat faster and faster once again.

You just had to give your frazzled nerves a break.

So, you had planned to knock him off his feet and surprise him just as much.

The problem was, you didn't know when he would show up.

Two days had passed since your last spook and you've been bracing yourself ever since. The anticipation was causing you so much anxiety that you feared this would be his biggest fright yet, since you had been on edge all along.

You walked slowly, giving yourself a pep talk in your mind about how he'd be just as surprised (and probably delighted) with your idea as you were spooked every single time he dropped from one of those trees. You also hoped that would give him time to arrive and act on his little prank.

As you kept on walking, you heard leaves shuffling on the tree a few steps in front of you. It was either him or some of the many cats that lived on campus. You crossed your fingers and moved forward, hoping it was him, so you'd be done with your anxiety.

And sure enough, after you took a few steps, a familiar mop of lavender hair dropped down in front of you.

“Boooo!!!”

“GAAAH!!” you yelled, your voice going up pitches you've never reached before.

“Hahaha!! Dandelion! You yelled so loud today! That was so cute!” Towa reached out his arms towards you and placed them on your shoulders as he giggled uncontrollably, closing his eyes and scrunching his nose, finding your distress absolutely hilarious.

You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm your heart down as much as you could, as you stared straight into his eyes.

At your silence, Towa stopped giggling and opened his eyes. He tilted his head once he saw how serious you looked while you quietly observed him.

“Hm? What's wrong, Dandelion? Did you get too scared?”

You exhaled slowly through your mouth and stepped closer, awkwardly placing your hands on his cheeks. He just tilted his head again, to the other side that time, clearly curious about your weird actions.

“What are you doing, Dandelion? Are you still sc–”

You interrupted his question by hastily crashing your lips on his – his upside-down position making for the weirdest kiss you have ever given in your life. You didn't know what to do nor where to move, so you just held his face tenderly and placed your lips against his as comfortably as you could.

Once you broke the kiss, you breathed deeply once again, heart still racing but mildly satisfied to see his mouth agape and eyes wide open.

“N-now I've surprised you too.” you mumbled, furrowing your eyebrows and pouting.

Towa blinked at your words and, in half a second, he had gotten down the tree and stood straight in front of you.

His cheeks were still flushed while a small smile began tugging at the corner of his lips. His hands rested comfortably on your neck and he leaned forward, brushing the tip of his nose against yours.

“Can you do that again, Dandelion?” he whispered, voice full of glee.

You gulped before nodding and placing a small peck on his red lips.

Towa licked his lips, eyes closed as if he was savoring the taste of your mouth on his, and you felt a shiver run down your spine while you observed his actions.

He opened his eyes, iris barely visible around his dilated pupils.

“Again.” he whispered, and you complied, lips resting a little longer on his.

“Again.” and you ran your hands through his hair, bringing him closer.

“Again.” he said, diving back into a kiss before you could even register he had whispered that word once more.

“Again. Again… Again, again, again” he kept on whispering, placing a kiss on your lips for every word he repeated.

You turned into a flustered mess in his hands and your heart drummed loudly while he held you tightly and flush against his body, suffocating you with his kisses.

But, this time, you definitely weren't complaining.