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#i wanted to talk about this fic for a while
luveline · 3 days
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hi jade!!! i would love to see a poly!marauders fic where they help r fall asleep please! absolutely no pressure at all just a suggestion ofc <3
“Why so moody?” 
You rub at your eyes, standing just behind the sofa. You’d been frowning when James spotted you, not wanting to ask. “I can’t…”
“What?” Sirius asks. 
Remus perks up from beside him. 
Three sets of eyes makes it worse and somehow better. Sometimes it’s easier to only tell one of them when you have a problem, but sometimes you need all of them to know. “I can’t sleep again. Are you coming to bed soon?” 
And listen, four people in one bed is insane but occasionally you manage it. Most of the time you sleep with James, less often Remus. You and Sirius tend to be incompatible while you sleep, because he grabs you around the neck and face for hugging and you wake up with sweat pouring off of you, blind. 
Perhaps that’s why he offers first and emphatically. “I’ll come to bed with you, darling,” Sirius says, a picture of concern as he stands. “What’s wrong?” 
“Nothing’s wrong, I’ve just tossed and turned for half an hour and I can’t take much more of it.” 
“She’s going insane,” Remus comments with a severe frown. 
Sirius helps him onto his feet. James, never one to be left out, turns off the television and gathers his throw blanket. “Not on my watch.” 
“Wait, I’m sorry. You don’t have to get up,” you say, wringing your hands behind your back. You hadn’t meant to summon them all to bed. You’d just wanted to know when you could expect an end to your agony. 
“Oh, well,” James begins, wrapping the throw blanket around your shoulders, “too late for that. Will you warm my side for me? I’ll lock up.” 
You feel shyer than you’d thought, shuffling back to the bedroom. Sirius’ hand finds your lower back as he enters the room from behind you, encouraging you gently to the side as he goes for the other. You’d left the sheets in disarray, the lamp on. James’ room is messy as always, but it’s your fault as you live from it most days. Remus is immediately put off by the overflowing dresser, closing each drawer with a shush over the runners. 
Sirius makes the bed, peeling back a corner for you. “Here, lovely. Climb in.” 
“I didn’t mean for you to wait on me,” you say shyly, embarrassed at their attention.
“There’s nothing I like doing more.” 
“He’s in a mood,” Remus says, though you’d guessed that already. “Enough room for me, too?” 
“‘Nough room for everyone,” you murmur, rounding Sirius to climb into bed as instructed. 
You and Remus end up in the middle of the bed, thankful for James’ sense of reality —everybody knew when you moved in together that the separate bedrooms wouldn’t last, but only James had the wherewithal to buy a very large bed. You’re immediately comforted by having one of them next to you, and Remus is very kind about it, asking in a murmur if he can cwtch you, wrapping his arm around your chest like you’re in danger of breaking from his touch. 
Sirius is less polite, but not less caring. If he thought you didn’t want him to touch you he certainly wouldn’t, but he knows he can hug you pretty much whenever he wants. He presses his nose to your face, Remus’ against your shoulder, the three of you deflating after a long day never quite this close to each other. You can feel a day’s worth of back ache leeching in your mattress. 
“Sorry,” you mumble. 
“Ooh, for what?” Sirius asks. 
“Making you come to bed.” 
“Didn’t make us do anything.” His breath warms your cheek as he talks. “It’s late. We would’ve been in bed soon.” 
It’s true enough. Everyone is in their pyjamas, Sirius smells like toothpaste. Still, you feel guilty for asking. And yet… you can finally relax now they’re here. It’s like they know exactly what’s been keeping you awake. Remus had cleaned and now holds your chest, Sirius reassures you and calms your stomach with his palm. 
James gets one good look at you all and rolls his eyes. “I asked you to do one thing for me. Jesus. Babe, could you move over?” he asks Remus, not giving him the time to comply before he’s in bed and smushing everyone even closer together. “This is fun. Sleepover!” 
“Just don’t start climbing on me again, Jamie,” Remus says. 
You close your eyes. “Don’t worry, they’ll chill out soon,” Sirius promises in a whisper. 
“Kiss?” you whisper back. 
Three different boys attempt to kiss you in the dimly lit bedroom. All the fuss doesn’t help you sleep, but knowing how much they care about you definitely does. 
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thaatdigitaldiary · 3 days
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passenger princess
paige bueckers x fem reader
disclaimer!! i don’t usually write fics, i’m better at writing educationally (lame) but me & my friends wanted me to try something out of my comfort zone so enjoy. criticism is welcome, but be kind!
this is based off of the picture i posted of paige earlier so that’s the context (also on the banner)
tags: @rosemariiaa & @patscorner for encouraging me to do this elohel kisses to yall
enjoy 🤫
it was 10:47 am. the ac blasting throughtout your studio apartment. you tossed and turned in your bed, groaning from the lack of sleep the night before, caused by a stressful day of work yesterday, completely draining you. you were in a slump to say the least, and the only person who could help cheer you up, was your girlfriend. as you picked up your phone, it vibrated suddenly with a notification popping up, “p 💓” it read, and you opened the message.
it was a picture of her and a brand new car, a red cadillac with a black interior. after the picture comes through, another message follows.
“surprise?” it reads, and you’re shocked, not only about the fact that your girlfriend impulsively bought a new car, but how undeniably beautiful she looked.
her beautiful blonde hair, roots slowly coming through, but she made them look so good. she was clad in a gray sweatshirt despite this summer heat, and those stupid, yet adorable 2024 sunglasses you gave her for new years last year perched on her head.
as you go to text her back, you hear a knock at your front door. you fix your hair and throw your robe on, and go to answer it, while a text that just came through your phone appears.
“i’m outside”
“hi baby.” she says standing in front of you, grinning like a kid who just entered a candy store, jingling her new keys.
“paige.” you say sternly, slighting smirking at the fact that she was so excited to show you her new car. despite the fact that you and her have been dating since your sophomore year of college, she still made you nervous.
from her tall, lean figure, to her beautiful eyes that wander everytime you two see each other. she starts talking, but you can’t stop looking at her.
“baby.” she says, laughing a little. you were staring, and hadn’t heard a word she said to you.
“im sorry, did you say something?” you say, chuckling nervously, feeling embarrassed, but paige never found it embarrassing, she found it cute, matter of fact she loved it.
“i said did you wanna come ride wimmie? you gotta be the first in this car and you know that.” she tells you, leaning on your doorframe, taking you in. she looked you up and down and bit her lip, admiring you and your figure.
“of course p, lemme get dressed and fix my hair, i shouldn’t be too long.” you say sweetly, smiling at her and kissing her on the cheek.
she goes to sit on your couch, manspreading per usual, watching you walk away and into your room to find something to wear.
you rummage through your closet to find something comfortable but cute to wear, just in case you two make any stops, which you knew you would.
you do some finishing touches on your hair, leaving it down, just how paige liked it.
you walk out of your room, having a slight sway to your hips as you walk, which drove paige insane. you wore jean shorts and a black tube top, with your “p” necklace sparkling around your neck.
“jesus ma.” she says, whistling while her eyes travel all over your figure.
“what? should i change?” you asked with concern, worried you were overdressed.
“fuck no, you look beautiful, especially repping me like that,” she says, referring to the necklace with her initial on it, as she rubs her hands together and bites her lip, making you laugh.
“we can go wherever you want to mama, i filled the tank right after i left the dealership.” she grabs her lanyard with her keys attached to it out of her sweatpants pocket, and goes to open the front door for you.
“hm, there’s a new spot not too far from here, they got real good breakfast food, me and jana went the other day.”
“anything for you ma.” she tells you, sneaking a kiss in as you approach her car.
“okay this is beautiful p, and shiny as hell jesus,” you say, describing the darkish red colored car your girlfriend just impulsively bought.
“it needs a beautiful girl to sit in it y’know,” and you roll your eyes at her corniness, but you secretly love it. she opens the door for you and closes it behind you, and walks to the driver’s seat.
about 10 minutes pass and you two are almost at your destination. paige hooked up her bluetooth to her car as soon as she got it, you both listening to her playlist and singing along with the windows down and the wind blowing in your faces.
paige watched as your hair flowed in the wind, your smile so beautiful, and all she could think about what was how lucky she was, getting to see you whenever she wanted, hold you, kiss you, and be there for you, all the time.
she rested her hand on your thigh, driving with one hand, and smiling.
“baby,” you said softly.
“yeah ma?”
“i love you.”
“i love you more than anything ma, yk that.”
you two made it to the restaurant, paige disconnecting her phone from the aux, and gets out to open the door for you.
you could really get use to this new car smell, and being paige’s passenger princess for a long, long time.
I HOPE YALL ENJOYED! this might be a one time thing as i could never be too consistent but lemme know any feedback and i love you guys! 🙂‍↕️
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healmydesires · 1 day
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sweet like sugar ꕤ (l.h)
part one
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pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
summary: Now that Logan was finally able to call you his, he couldn’t get enough of you.
OR
Logan fucks you from behind.
genre: fluff + smut (18+ mdni)
word count: 3,7k
warnings/tags: friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, thunderstorms, literally the scene right after this fic, porn with NO plot, reader is described as shorter than logan, inexperienced!reader, hint at loss of virginity, unprotected sex, piv sex, doggy style, soft!dom logan, ok… just in overall bye, logan is soft for reader, sub!reader, creampie, overstimulation, major size kink, praise kink, dirty talk, logan talks you thru it. a lot more daddy kink in this one ngl. HEAVY ON THE BREEDING kink aaaaa sorry. I am still ovulating. they’re both FREAKS. scent kink? reader is also ovulating bye. lots of pet names. logan is worshipping his sweet girl ok! reader is a mutant but it’s not really mentioned in this part tho. reader has hair, no further description though. this is not beta read sorry!
a/n: GUESS WHAT!!! I finished part two that I wanted to originally post in the main fic but it kinda felt out of place idk either way!! I’m posting it now 🤪 I thought I’ll write what I WANT to read. this is high key self indulgent. english isn’t my first language so pls bear with me <3 this is just smut😭 I literally wrote this while ovulating…
this goes without saying, but if you don't like it don't read it <3
AO3 • masterlist
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Logan manhandled your body, guiding your body so that you were lying on your stomach. He manoeuvred you in the position he wanted you to be. His hands came to hold your hips, pulling them up, your ass in the air for him.
He kneads the flesh of your cheeks before spreading them apart for him. Your body slumped slightly forward with exhaustion but Logan is quick to grip your hips, holding you in the same position. “Oh kitten, I’m not done with you yet.” He tutted.
You whimpered, feeling his eyes on your wet heat as it clenched repeatedly, aching and begging to be filled all over again and again. Logan growled as he stared at your entrance as your combined cum dripped down your hole, as you continued to clench around nothing. Your body trembled with anticipation.
Logan had made sure you’d cum several times before he took you for the first time. Before tonight, you were so inexperienced, a virgin actually. Now, all you could think about was that you wanted and needed him to continue and fuck you for hours, filling your pussy with his cum over and over again.
He leaned over you, covering your whole body with his own. Logan nuzzled your neck as he littered your skin with his kisses. You writhed against him, wishing he was just pushing his cock in you already and filling you up in the best way.
The air was stuffy all around you, each harsh breath released only thickening it up, leaving your skin hot and your mind fuzzy. Logan groaned into your ear, mouthing kisses along your neck, tongue trailing down the junction between your neck and shoulder before he gently nipped your skin.
Logan reached down to grasp his cock to line up with your tight entrance. He rubbed his tip firmly over your pulsing hole. Your mind was all over the place as his ministrations continued.
“Fuck, can’t wait to fill you up again.”
His breath caught in his throat as his cock smeared his pre cum against your already cum filled hole. The usual restraint between his mind and his words seemed to vanish, as words tumbled from his mouth.
“I wonder if you can handle this position already.” He whispered almost to himself as his hands kneaded your ass cheeks. “Your tiny pussy could barely handle my cock earlier…”
“No, daddy… I can take your big cock.” You whined desperately as you tried to push your hips against his own, hoping he’d enter your pussy again. You were squirming, as you kept trying to push his cock inside you, but Logan had a strong hold on you, which made it hard for you to move around too much. “I’m daddy’s good girl.”
At your words Logan growled, grasping your hips and tilting them more and pushed your trembling legs further apart.
Logan inhaled sharply. “You smell so good, kitten. I can smell your fertility. Your little pussy is practically begging for my cum.” He murmured against your ear. Your cheeks flushed with heat at his words. Logan continued as he pressed tender kisses down your neck, “Can’t wait to breed this pussy again and again with my cock. All night.” Logan moaned and you hissed at the heated sensation of his cock, your eyelids fluttering when you felt it press against your entrance.
A broken gasp left your lips as he finally slid the tip inside you. You felt his body moving behind you, sitting up against you, and you knew his eyes were on your pussy. He watched as your walls spread to try and begin to wrap around him. You whimpered at the new angle as you tried to accommodate his girth. He could barely get more of it in your tight walls at first, eventually using more force to open you up for him. It felt like you were being torn open, split in half.
“D-d-daddy…” you stuttered and mewled.
“I know baby girl, I know.” Logan moaned as he gradually slid more of his thickness inside you and you trembled more underneath him. Your pulsing walls were wrapped tightly around his cock, as your soaked pussy pulled him in more. The pressure of his massive dick deep within your walls overwhelmed you while you clutched the sheets below you in tight fists.
Logan towered over you, as he pushed more of his length inside you, his gaze focused on your clenching hole as his dick slowly disappeared more and more inside you.
You arched your back as you clung onto the bed sheets for dear life, nails digging into the comforters. You couldn’t keep quiet, little mewls and whimpers tumbled past your lips with ease as Logan slid inside.
“Ah, daddy… so big.” You whined.
“You take me so well, pretty girl. Doing so good for daddy.” He moaned as he leaned down to press a soft kiss against your cheek, as he kept pushing more of his girth in you slowly. Every time Logan would slide more inside your pussy would squeeze around him. You knew he was barely halfway in, still you felt so full.
“So full…”
“I know my sweet girl, I know. You’re doing so well, soon you’ll be filled with all of daddy’s cock.”
The whines and whimpers and moans kept spilling from your lips as Logan continued to push deeper and deeper. Your hands trembled as they gripped the sheets between your fingers while he penetrated your tight walls.
“P-please, need more. I can handle it daddy…” you whimpered as you tried to push back your trembling body against him, his cock sliding deeper inside you.
He groaned at your desperate whines and as you pushed back against him , losing his composure momentarily as he thrust the rest of his thick cock all the way inside your wetness. The head of his cock touched your cervix once he bottoms out. A scream left your mouth as you trembled underneath him, your pussy trying to adjust to his size as it clenched around his cock. You pushed your head into the pillows as pathetic whimpers kept falling from your lips.
“Christ, you’re so warm—fuck—so tight,” he growled, rambling without a thought, too enveloped in the feeling of your tight walls wrapped around him.
You moaned and squeezed around his cock at his words, leaving him panting above you. Both of his hands moved to grab at your ass cheeks, kneading them slowly and gently.
“God, sweetheart, you’re so fucking hot… and wet. How are you this tight?” Logan groaned — the deep timbre of his voice reverberating through the air.
There was an intense pressure deep within your stomach — Logan’s thick cock throbbed erratically inside you. The feeling of him nestled so deep within you had you sighing in pleasure. There was still a dull ache — from how wide he stretched you out; your walls pulled apart to their limits — but pleasure soon replaced the stinging ache. Gradually, you adjusted to Logan’s size and with an experimental swivel of your hips, you cried out in pleasure.
Fingers were digging harder into your ass, soft grunts and pants escaped his lips as you moved your hips slowly back against him. “Fuck— that’s it, baby. Grind all over my cock—you feel so good,” Logan growled as his head fell back. The soft murmuring of his voice ripped through the room, the sounds of his own pleasure intermingled with yours.
“Fuck, Logaaaan,” you whined — drawing out the syllables of his name. His hands were still on your ass — holding the plump flesh in his large hands while he squeezed and spread them apart.
Pleasure seeped into your veins, and you began grinding and squeezing more feverishly against him. Short gasps of pleasure slipped from your lips, as you felt his cock pulse inside your tight walls.
“Kitten, fuck, I can’t wait anymore. Need to fuck you.” He slurred and panted above you — euphoric elation dripped from his words. Your stomach twisted — the heat inside caused your stomach to flip and turn with every one of your movements. “Need to breed this pussy.”
“Ah, Lo—”
Both your breaths laboured as you’d feel his hips move, quickly pulling himself almost all the way out of your pussy, as you whined at the empty feeling. “Such a needy pussy.” Logan growled before he thrust himself all the way inside your cunt again.
“Ah ah fuck, daddy… oh my god—” you hiccup as he moved his hips slowly but hard against yours. You cried out as he thrust so deep inside you that it had your body slumping against the bed. Your pussy continued to pulse and squeeze around his thickness, as it tried to adjust to its girth still.
“Pussy needs to be filled all the time ain’t that right?” He groaned as he punctuated every word with a thrust.
You moaned loudly as you arched your back and pressed your ass up against him. He grabbed your asscheeks, keeping the angle perfect as he rolled his hips deeply into yours. You felt his cock throbbing inside you as you tightened around him.
He was so deep, hitting your cervix repeatedly which made your eyes roll back in your head.
“F-fuck baby girl, you’re so sexy like this.” Logan slowly picked up his pace at the sight of you throwing your head back. “You’re all mine, isn’t that right kitten?”
With every thrust, you couldn’t help but cry out in pleasure. Not only was Logan’s cock thick, but he was incredibly long too, his length just slightly curved: which allowed his head to drag against that sweet spot inside you.
Large hands moved to your hips, Logan gripped them tightly as he helped you move against him. Every movement had hot spikes of pleasure jolting across your skin, your toes curled in elation while your stomach twisted and knots violently. The ecstatic bliss of your impending orgasm called to you and you began bouncing your ass against him.
“Ah, y-yes yes yes, I’m all yours. P-please please f-fuuuck, I need m-mo—” you begged and you’re unable to finish your sentence as he gave you a particularly hard thrust.
You felt your arms almost giving out on you because of the force of his thrusts. Logan’s hands were clawing at the sides of your hips, guiding you with him, and he leaned down to place kisses on your upper back, his kisses travelled down your spine, until he leaned back up and just watched you as he fucked into you from behind.
Skin melded together, your sweat acting as a glue, you lost yourself into the feel of Logan. Your mind goes blank as all you could do was focus on the feeling of him stretching you, filling you up, so overwhelmed with bliss already. He thrust deeper inside you, which earned him whines and moans as you continued to cry out his name. You tried to tell him, breathlessly, about how good he made you feel.
The sound of your pleasure fuelled his desire to fuck you better, urged him to do more.
Logan picked up his pace, thrusting into you quicker, harder, hitting the spot that had your body going numb.
From above you, Logan fucked harder — his cock thrusting deeper into you. The additional sensation caused you to whimper, your pussy twitched as sheer, unadulterated bliss began flitting through your bloodstream. You were close — so close you could practically taste your orgasm; even if your mouth was completely dry from gasping his name and calling him daddy over and over again.
You clawed at the sheets, burying your face into the pillow to muffle your screams. The air was all stuffy around you as his hips moved faster, you whimpered as you tried to push back your hips against his to take more of his big cock. Your tiny pussy was so full of him, still trying to accommodate his thick girth as it pulsed and tightened around him. Logan moaned at the sight, kneading your ass as he tried to bury himself more inside you, his tip hitting your cervix instantly. Your eyes rolled back inside your head once again as you dug your fingers more into the bed, you mewled against the sheets at the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you.
You whined loudly as he shifted inside you, the new angle made him hit your sensitive spot inside you.
“Fuuuck,” Logan moaned. Your pussy was so wet and warm around him, your walls squeezed his cock with every thrust, “feels so good, kitten. You’re taking daddy’s cock so well.”
Your noises became louder and higher pitched as he continued his assault on your pussy, indicating that you were getting closer as well as the lewd sounds of your pussy that kept meeting his cock over and over again. The sounds mixed so well with your desperate cries.
Logan couldn’t help it, you looked so pretty like this. Fucked out beneath him and so fucking full of his cock, the closer he got to his orgasm the more the images of you filled with his cum consumed his thoughts.
“Your pussy is so tight and wet around me, begging me to fill you up in other ways… begging for my cum.” He groaned as he thrust harder into your heat. “Begging for me to breed her.”
“God, daddy-daddy please. Fuck I—” You whined as your eyes rolled back inside your head.
“What do you want, kitten?” He groaned while one of his hands reached around you to slip against your clit as you writhed against him as he applied pressure. The pleasure had the tension tightening in the pit of your stomach, dying for your release.
Suddenly, everything became too much: the pressure against your clit, his grunts, the sticky, sweaty feeling, his scent, his warmth, the drilling of his cock inside you. Just everything. You tried to catch your breath but from how Logan was thrusting inside you and the rubbing against your clit it felt almost impossible to do so.
“F-feels s-soo— F-fuck, I-I, daddyyyy—”
“Look at you,” he chuckled breathlessly, “so cock drunk and so fucked out you can barely talk.” He whispered once he leaned down as he buried his head in the crook of your neck, as he picked up his pace once again. He fucked you so fast and hard that you swore you never moaned so loud in your life. “Don’t worry, I think I know what you need.”
He leaned his body completely against yours as he continued to hit against your cervix repeatedly while one of his hands kept rubbing your little bundle of nerves. “Feels good doesn’t it, sweet girl?” You whimpered and trembled underneath him as you nodded, he moaned against your ear before he whispered close to you. “Does it feel good? That I’m fucking you like this? Just the way you wanted it.”
“Y-yes! F-feels sooooo so gooood, Looo—” you whined as he continued to hit your sensitive spots inside you. Logan’s fingers kept pressing down on your little nub making you squirm. The tension continued to build up as the pleasure became too overwhelming.
“That’s right, princess.”
Logan snapped his hips into you again and again, thrusting deep, causing you to see stars from knowing just how to pleasure you. You felt like your head was swimming once again as you whined. “I’m sooo so close, p-please… daddy… I’ve been such a good girl.” you begged desperately. You only needed one more little push, a little bit more attention to finally reach your peak again.
“Yes, you’ve been such a good girl for daddy.” He panted above you.
You cried out for him, your moans almost sounding like his name as he moved his head down again, pressing kisses all over the side of your face down your neck.
“Can’t wait, fuck—“ he breathed, he stopped himself to let out a loud groan, “can’t wait to fill you up. I keep dreaming about filling you up nice and good. ”
The words made you keen and pulse around his cock, as you moaned his name into the warm air of your bedroom. You wanted more, needed to hear more, wanted to know what else he wanted, what else he dreamed of but your voice was strangled, your brain incapable of forming a sentence.
“I keep dreaming about breeding this pussy until you’re fuckin’ pregnant.” He grunted before he whispered in your ear, “be a good girl and cum for daddy.”
“Fuck, oh my god,” you cried, a shrill wail as Logan’s words went straight to your pussy. Your cunt gushed all over Logan’s cock as he never stopped. His thrusts were hard and deep, enough to turn your vision starry.
“That’s it… that’s it, let go pretty girl.” He murmured lowly into your ear.
His hips never slowed down as he massaged your clit. And then the coil in your lower tummy snapped, your eyes rolled back into your head while you arched your back as your world dissolved into pure ecstasy. You couldn’t stop yourself from shaking as he talked you through it. You almost blacked out because of the intensity of your orgasm, trembling like crazy. You whimpered as the overstimulation got to you.
“Doing so good for me, baby.” He groaned as his pace became more erratic, with less finesse as he charged towards his own finish line. “Daddy wants to fill you up. N-need to fuck my cum into you, kitten. Breed you and get you nice and full…”
Your walls pulsed and tightened around him as he continued to hit your sweet spot inside you. He groaned as his movements became more sloppy. He cried out your name with a gasping breath. Loud mewls left your lips as he finally spilled his seed inside you, coating each inch of you with a warmth that pooled deep inside you. An instant wave of pleasure rolled throughout your body as he filled you up with his hot cum.
“Ah...” you whimpered underneath him as your body continued to shake.
He kept fucking his cock inside of you, fucking his cum deep inside of you until he was satisfied. Logan exhaled deeply as he came down from his high, his body slumping against your own. His cock was still lodged deep inside you, still half hard as he kept the cum inside your pussy. You whimpered as your pussy pulsed around him, as it kept clenching repeatedly around his still hard length.
You tried to catch your breath as Logan groaned while you continued tightening involuntarily around him. “Kitten,” he warned breathlessly, “don’t do that.”
“I can’t really help it.” You said under your breath.
He gently pulled out of your tiny spent hole, making you whimper at the loss and you felt his eyes on you, knowing that he watched his seed drool out of you. Your legs were spread wide, and your pussy slightly gaping from where he’d fucked you open. But he was much more focused on how his cum leaked out of you, his seed dripping down your hole. Chest swelling with pride, he couldn’t help but let out a lazy smile.Your pussy continued to clench repeatedly around nothing and he groaned at the sight. Logan made sure to plunge his pointer finger into your hole as you gasped, stuffing you back up with your shared cum.
You winced at the sensation, a whimper slipped from your lips at the sensitivity. Pressing a kiss to your knee, “We’ll have to clean you up,” Logan mumbled, even as he continued pushing his fingers inside you.
“Not now, I’m tired,” you murmured back whiningly. When the ache of oversensitivity got too much, you bat Logan’s hand away before you closed your legs.
With a low laugh, Logan pressed an apologetic kiss to your knee before picking you up effortlessly, making you yelp in surprise. “Up you go.” You were about to complain that you could walk perfectly to the bathroom on your own, when you felt sore and your legs felt incredibly numb.
Once he reached the bathroom, he sat you down on the edge of the bathtub all while running the water and surprising you with your favourite bath bomb, to create a bubble bath. It brought a smile to your face knowing he knew so much about you.
“Logan… how is it that you always know what I need?” You whispered as you looked at him dreamily.
“Isn’t that what your best friend and new boyfriend should know?” He gave you a teasing smile.
“Either way, thank you.” You whispered before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.
“Anything for you, sweetheart.”
You leaned into Logan's gentle support as the tub filled. When it was ready, he carefully lifted you and helped you into the warm water. Looking up, you moved towards the centre, silently inviting him to join. Logan eased in behind you, and you shifted forward slightly so he could settle comfortably. The soothing warmth enveloped you both as you relaxed against him, relaxing instantly in the peaceful moment.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
His strong arms encircled your waist, drawing you closer until you were nestled securely against him. You let out a contented sigh, feeling the solid warmth of his chest behind you. The gentle rise and fall of his breathing was soothing, and you found yourself relaxing even further.
“I love you,” he whispered, his breath soft against your ear. His lips then traced a tender path down your neck, each kiss a gentle affirmation of his words. The sweet gesture sent a pleasant shiver through you.
A smile spread across your face as you settled deeper into his embrace, feeling utterly at peace. The moment felt perfect — safe, warm, and full of affection. You shifted against him, shuffling around as you moved closer into him in the water, you pressed your naked body against his. Face to face once again. Easily, your legs tangled together, and closing your eyes, you let his words and the comfort of his presence wash over you. Your heart swelled with emotion as you replied, your voice soft but filled with certainty.
“I love you too.”
In that quiet moment, surrounded by his warmth and care, you felt truly cherished. The storm outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble of contentment.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ And that’s how the rest of the night went, tender kisses and soft touches shared between you two as you enjoyed each other's company. Feeling so loved and at home as you melted in his embrace.
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allmoshnobrain · 3 days
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You're a short girl, and sometimes that messes with your confidence. Your boyfriend doesn't seem to care at all, though.
✦ on this fic: simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader, fluff, reader is short and it makes her a bit insecure
✦ a/n: this is my first time writing for anything other than metallica/megadeth/venom which is what i usually write for but i've been daydreaming a lot about this man and needed to get this out of my system 😭 also it was a great way to warm up and start writing again after my break!! hope u guys enjoy it 💖
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
It takes him a while to pick up on your insecurity.
It's subtle, and honestly, he’s not exactly great with subtle. He fails, at first, to catch the way you pout, the way you frown whenever you see a hot actress who’s taller than you, or a long dress you think would look better on someone with a few more inches.
He finally catches on, though, one night when you’re cooking dinner. It’s kind of a slip up, really — a tiring day and your period cramps the worst they’ve been in the last few hours just making it easier for you to get upset over the smallest thing. So when you can’t reach one of the trays on the top shelf and have to ask him to grab it, he turns around to see you teary-eyed and upset, which is not how this usually goes.
“Love?” he asks, his brow furrowing when he sees your state “What’s wrong?” He glances at the glass tray in his hands. “Did I grab the wrong one?”
“What? No, no, it’s fine,” you mutter, his confused look quickly shifting into worry when he notices the tears in your eyes.
“Hey,” he quickly puts the tray down and gently grabs your chin. “Talk to me. What is it?”
He’s firm, straightforward but not harsh, which just makes you feel even more ridiculous for almost crying over something so dumb.
“I’m being silly,” you say, but he shakes his head. 
“Don’t say that,” he mutters. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
That last part sounds almost like a command, his voice all firm and serious — something that would probably annoy you if he didn’t sound so genuinely concerned. You sigh.
“I wish I was taller,” you whisper, hoping he wouldn’t hear it, but he does. Of course he does.
“You wish you were taller?” he repeats, now more confused than worried. “Why?”
“I just don’t want to feel useless, always needing your help,” you half-lie, because that’s not really it.  And of course, Simon knows — he always does. You can tell by the way he raises his eyebrow slightly at you, disarming you instantly. “I wish I was prettier,” you finally mutter.
“You are pretty,” he says slowly, like he’s still trying to figure out where all this is coming from. “You’re beautiful. And I like helping you.”
“But tall girls are… More beautiful,” you sniffle, and he snorts.
“Who said that?”
“I said,” you frown. “Like, every time I see a cute dress that’s too long, I just think I can’t wear it. It won’t look right on me. I always feel like I can only look cute, but sometimes I want to look, I don’t know, gorgeous. Tall girls just always seem to look gorgeous to me, and I...”
“Oh, shush,” Simon grumbles, sliding an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. He tilts your chin up gently so you’re looking at him. “You are gorgeous. And you’re beautiful, and you’re mine. And I like you small — easier to hold.”
You can’t help but laugh. It’s shaky, and you try to hold it back, wanting to stay in your little pity party a bit longer. I mean, seriously, what does he mean by "you’re gorgeous" when you feel the exact opposite?
"Easier to hold?" you say, trying to sound offended but failing as a giggle slips out.
"There she is," he hums, kissing the corner of your mouth, and that’s when you realize you’re smiling. "My girl. Don’t be upset, love. You don’t need to be taller to be pretty. And if you ever need to reach for something, well, that’s what I’m here for."
“You’re just saying that because you’re my boyfriend,” you tease. He lets out an exasperated sigh.
“I’m not.”
“You are!”
“Goddammit, woman. Will you quit trying to convince me you’re not beautiful? It’s not happening,” he frowns, then leans in, pressing a small, tender kiss to your lips. His arms wrapped around you are comfortable, warm and firm and feel like home.
It never fails to disarm you, how soft he can be. Out of the blue, always when you’re not really expecting it. Just when you think you’ve finally managed to annoy him or maybe this is the time he’s gonna get tired of you. He never fails to prove you wrong. 
He never fails to prove that he loves you, just the way you are.
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elliesgaythoughts · 3 days
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toxic bbf!ellie pt2
angst & smut
a/n: now idk how i feel about this one but i kinda like it but i kinda don’t so idk yall can be the judge of this
warnings: long ahh fic, strap r! receiving, size kink, exhibitionist kink, squirting, use of mama ofc, use of doll and pretty girl, titty sucking, masturbation e!receiving.
jealousy coiled in the depths of ellies stomach as she watched the pale hand skim the outside of your bare thigh.
it was just the three of you in the house. ellie, with her auburn hair pulled back into a messy bun as she sat manspread. her palm rested against her stomach that was twisting with guilt and jealousy as she watched the pair of you from across the living room in her single chair. 
she came over to meet with your brother but he wasn’t back from football practice yet so she thought she may aswell show up early and fuck you for a while until he arrives.
her plans took a sudden turn for the worse when you answered the door to her with an abby anderson standing behind you with low eyes and arms wrapped around your torso.
“you can wait in the living room ellie” you rolled your eyes dismissively and slammed the door behind her..
you sensed the way ellies green eyes bore into your cleavage that peeked above your tight vest. it ignited a flame in you as you watched jealousy eat away at her from the corner of your peripheral as abbys firm hand massaged the plush of your thigh as she watched the tv mindlessly.
you invited the muscular blonde over tonight knowing that ellie would be there. you needed someone to make you feel better after all ellie had put you through and you knew the girl that ellie has hated since childhood was just the one you needed.
abby lightly tapped your outer thigh signalling you to climb onto her lap. your ass peeked out of the bottom of your tiny little shorts, giving ellie the perfect view as abbys hand slid higher and higher up your thigh, her thumb lightly brushing your clit caused your breath you to hitch as she giggled at your reactions to her touch as you blushed stupidly.
ellie coughed to clear her throat, catching both of your attention before she spoke with sarcasm dripping in her tone “maybe you two may want to go upstairs” she said, knowing what was about to happen and hating how the sight of your face blushed and your nipples poking through your tiny vest had her clit throbbing in her jeans. even though it was because of another woman she still took in the sight of you like she earned it. her mind ran wild with thoughts of how it could’ve been her making a mess of you on that sofa and it ate away at her.
“why?” you groaned, not even sparing ellie a glance as you kissed at the side of abbys neck, licking up the vein that appeared there as she strained a moan at the feeling of you grinding against her belt buckle.
ellies pussy was fucking beating as she resisted the urge to buck her hips up against nothing. her nails dug into the armrest of her chair as the plush of her lips separated to speak “because you both are being whores”
you could hear the irritation in her voice and you couldn’t help but giggle at how easily you got under her skin before you sighed softly at her “oh ellie you can leave whenever you want” you teased. the room went silent as you waited for her to leave, knowing she wouldn’t.
you couldn’t help the smile that played on your lips as you softly gripped abbys throat and looked into her baby blue eyes “you don’t mind putting on a show, do you?” her hands gripped your hips tightly “i don’t give a fuck about that bitch.”
usually ellie would be on her feet at the sound of somebody talking shit about her but right now her mind was at other places while her ears rang, not hearing the “thank you, daddy” that rolled off of your tongue before you gave abby a sloppy kiss.
her tongue rolled against yours. almost as slow as your hips moved back and forth against the bulge in her pants as you grew wetter at the feeling of this girl being completely lost in lust over you and the thrill of putting on a such a show for ellie.
the longer you made out the more frantic abby became over you as her hands wondered every curve of your body, skimming the goosebumps on your thighs, cupping your breasts and toying with your nipples before lifting your vest over your head and tossing it in ellies direction before instantly latching her mouth onto your perky tits, making a moan leave your throat as you gripped the back of her head “mhm just like that mama.” you groaned out.
after a few minutes of abby moaning against your tits pathetically you gripped her plait and pulled her hair back, making yet another whine leave the girl. she was fucking crazy over you already. this felt so much better than whatever it was ellie had going on.
abbys eyes met ellies as your hands trailed down abbys chest, skimming the material of her nike sports bra, down her firm abs and finally to her buckle as you trailed your false nail over the cute little design on it “may i?” “uh huh” abby hummed as her hips thrusted up gently against you.
you undone her belt and pulled her zipper down as the pink silicone sprung out of her trousers “fuck” you spoke to yourself as you took in the size of her. it was bigger than anything you’ve ever had before but that only excited you more as she gripped it and tapped it against your pajama covered pussy “you think you can handle it for me baby?”
butterflies danced in your tummy as your face heated up “mhm” you spoke shyly but to be honest with yourself you weren’t to sure but you knew you weren’t going to go down without a fight…
your head was spinning as the tip of her strap stretched you out and your chest grew hot “oh fuck” you whispered as your breath left your body and your eyes fluttered close as you gripped her shoulders and lowered yourself onto her. the burn from the stretch was addictive as your eyes teared up and your pants turned into zoned out whines “oh my god” you strained out to say as two pairs of eyes watched how drunk you became because of abbys dick.
ellies hand fell against her crotch as she closed her eyes and listened to the sultry sounds that left you. she wore a furrow on her forehead as her fingertip pressed against her clit while she heaved a breath through her lips and rocked her fingertip back and forth as her thighs spread farther apart.
a broken moan left you as you took in the last of abby.
your eyes were still closed as you steadied your breathing. your arms wrapped around her neck, loving the feeling of her back muscles under your fingertips and her dick taking up more room inside you than you had to offer.
you opened your heavy eyelids as your eyes met abbys. sweet whines left you as you swayed your hips, opening yourself up as she reached down and massaged your clit back and forth. your movements were in sync with hers as you got lost in her gaze.
ellie watched your back arch to reveal your soaked pussy that swallowed abby so greedily. ellie fucking hated this. her fingers sped up as she rubbed her pussy frantically over her trousers as her other hand clasped firmly over her mouth, catching a moan against her palm.
you loved the sound of the muffled moans from behind you mixing with yours as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. abbys dick hit deep inside you with every bounce of your hips down onto her as you gasped for breath and moaned curses to yourself.
you leaned back and held yourself up with one of your hands against her knee while the other reached down and played with your clit as you gave the tall blonde the image of her cock nestled inside you as you released a pornographic moan as your head fell back and your eyes landed onto ellies.
almost instantly all of the freckled girls pride disappeared before your eyes as her breath hitched and she shamelessly humped her hand right in front of you “ohfuck” she rushed out as she felt her pussy leak through her trousers. her hips stuttered and with the way her mouth fell open you already knew she was done for as you quickly turned your attention back onto abby.
you gripped her chin to steady yourself as your hips rolled up, keeping just her tip inside you as you circled your waist and slammed yourself back down against her over and over. the harness bumping her clit had her bucking her hips aimlessly as you leaned over her, looking into her glossy eyes as tears of ecstasy threatened to spill “so pretty doll” you cooed.
abby nodded as her pretty face scrunched up in pleasure and she landed a harsh smack to your asscheek and pulled you closer as she grinded against the base of her harness, grinding her dick into you farther as she whined in response to you licking the side of her ear and whispering “cum for me.”
somehow ellie must have thought you were talking to her because right after abbys eyes rolled to the back of her skull ellies voice cracked with a “fuck you” as you noticed the all too familiar final low groan of her reaching her orgasm.
both of the girls laid there twitching as their orgasms pulsed through them while they watched you rub your clit softly and your eyes flutter close. “damn” you hummed as your pussy squeezed her dick and your forehead pressed against abbys while she watched you in awe as your legs shook and stomach contracted as your orgasm creeped closer “im gonna cum. c-can i cum?” you begged shakily.
“y-yeah cum for me baby” abby stuttered out. her big hand reached forward and gripped your both of your tits as has her mouth met your sensitive bud. her tongue rolled over your nipple before her cheeks hallowed and sucked a bruise onto to flesh, bringing you over the edge as you shook and moaned ellies name as you finally came, squirting all over abbys dick and lower stomach as your body convulsed and you lost basically all consciousness.
your eyes fell closed. you felt pure ecstasy as your vision went white and your ears rang. all you could hear was the sound of your own breath’s steadying and ellies little snicker in abbys direction as she realised the hold she continued to have over you.
ellie stood on wobbly legs and ran her fingers through her messy auburn hair  that fell out of her bun.
she spoke down to abby “clean her up for me.” as a sick laugh left her and she walked out of the room, leaving you and abby in silence as everything started to come back to you. fuck. why the fuck did you say that.
your forehead left abbys shoulder and your eyes met hers. guilt coursed through you when you saw her eyes well with tears and your gut twisted as her head dipped “uh l-let me help you get cleaned up” she barely whispered.
“babe-” your voice cracked as you tried to speak while you lifted her chin.
tears spilled over your eyes and ran down your cheeks as you sat there speechless.
“it’s okay” abby sighed through her lips.
“baby she’s nothing to me” you rushed out.
her words were barely above a whisper at this point as she pulled her shirt back on and guided you off of her gently. leaving you on the sofa as she stood over you. she jumped slightly as she heard the front door slam and ellies truck start in the driveway.
“don’t fucking lie to me” and just like that abby left you too. leaving you in puddle of your own cum and guilt.
you hated how you felt. your body convulsed as you curled up into a ball and sobbed into your palms as snot ran down your nose. you felt like you were about to fucking puke as you heard someone pull out of the driveway.
you ran out of your front door hoping to see abby but your blood started to boil at the sight of ellie rolling a joint in the front of her truck.
“what the fuck ellie?!” you yelled.
she rolled her window down and tilted her head for you to come closer as you walked towards her “what?! what the fuck do you want?”
“aye calm down mama. it’s not my fault you had to think of me to cum with that bitch”
you started to giggle as tears fell from your eyes again you felt like you were going insane. “what the actual fuck?” you asked throwing your arms out to the side “what the fuck is wrong with you?”
she shrugged her shoulders as she took a hit and blew the smoke towards your face making you break out coughing as you waved the cloud away.
“get the fuck out of my driveway ellie” she took a deep breath “nah. im good” you pushed her through the space in her window “get the fuck out!”
ellie ignored you entirely “here take a hit princess. you really need to calm down” you ripped the joint from her hand and tossed it down onto the ground “fuck you ellie”
ellie simply rolled her eyes and turned the radio up before muttering “psycho bitch” under her breath and pulling out of the driveway, leaving you standing there in front of your fucking neighbours with your hair a mess and tears falling for the what felt like hundredth time tonight as your brother pulled up against the curb.
@williamellieslilho @yourelliewillms @moonalumi @pascals-doll @infiniteinquiries @aouiaa @radioheadfan699 @lmaoo-spiderman @quinnister @cattjull
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forhappysake · 1 day
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Never Forget a Face
A/N - Why is titling fics so hard? I used a Hunger Games quote because it fit so well so lmk if you can pick it out. Nearly 5K words, not proofread.
Summary - After the end of a bloody case, Emily tasks a begrudging Spencer with checking in on the newbie. Warnings - Spencer x fem!reader, typical BAU-level violence, murder, kn!ves, season 12/13 spoilers, extensive handwashing (?), a bitter post-prison reid with a grumpy x sunshine plot
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My hands are stained red.
That was your first coherent thought as you stared in the bathroom mirror. The fluorescent lighting cast a pale glow over your face, making you look more ghostly than you already did. Your once blue shirt was covered in splotches. Your hands, dangling over the sink, were the color of burnt rust. 
As you turned on the faucet and applied soap to your hands, your brain replayed the events that brought you here. 
This was only your second case with the team. Hell, it was only your fourth case with the bureau. All you wanted to do was fit in. You’d heard great things about the BAU: the highly decorated Unit Chief Emily Prentiss, the face of the FBI - Jennifer Jareau, and the sought-after genius of Dr. Spencer Reid. 
The first case with the BAU had gone well. You’d done a lot of the grunt work, putting in an intense number of hours in a dingy police precinct pouring over paperwork with Dr. Reid, who kept telling you to call him Spencer. Despite this faux friendliness, you couldn’t help but get the feeling he was tired of working with you. 
Not that you could blame him. You were, by all definitions, a newbie. He had over a decade of experience and a serious reputation. A genius to boot, his sighs and looks often made you feel like you were in his way more than you were actually helping. Hence why, when Emily had asked for two volunteers to tail a suspect for the day, you’d quickly volunteered to go with the charming Luke Alvez. 
Six hours later, Luke, along with yourself, had tracked an unsub while he was taking his latest victim back to his home in a rural area. Back-up, which was supposed to be on the way, wouldn’t be there for at least twenty minutes. When the first blood-curdling scream rang out from the house, the two of you knew you had no choice but to act alone. 
Luke went in through the front door, making his presence known as you tiptoed around the side of the house to enter undetected. When you found a cracked window, you were able to slip inside without much issue. 
In that moment, you remembered hearing Luke attempting to talk down the unsub. You approached their voices, careful not to let anyone know you were inside. 
“How do you think this is going to end?” Luke asked the unsub, his voice firm. 
The unsub had laughed and the muffled cries of his victim could be heard from your spot. You tucked yourself quietly behind a hallway entrance into the room Luke was in. You peeked around the corner to let him know you were there. His only acknowledgment of you was a brief glance, but that was all you needed to know that he wanted you to stay in place. 
“I think,” the unsub started, with more cries coming from his captive, “that she’ll probably die before this is all over.” 
You tried to recall the profile. Emily’s voice replayed in your mind. 
“He kills with a knife and dumps the body in a secondary location, meaning he gets the women alone and gets close to them before he kills them. Based on the demographics of this region, he’s probably a white man. Likely in his 30s. Attractive but single, most definitely living alone. That’s his selling point. That’s how he’s managed to lure all these women into his vehicle.”
Nothing stuck out to you about him. There was nothing you could think to do to help in this situation besides hide behind the wall. You were waiting for a signal from Luke or the sound of backup approaching. 
Luke cleared his throat and you could picture him shaking his head. “It doesn’t have to be like this, man. Let her go and I can help you.”
The unsub laughed again and you cringed. There was something so unsettling about his voice and his laughter. 
The unsub started to speak, but his voice was cut off by the sound of sirens wailing in the distance. This was your moment. 
You whirled around the corner, gun drawn. “FBI, don’t move,” you warned. The unsub turned to look at you. His cold blue eyes bore a hole in your head. A shiver ran through your spine. “Drop the knife.” 
He appeared irritated, rolling his neck as if trying to work out a kink. He glanced down at his victim. Her eyes were wide and frantic, tears streaming down her face. She was bound and a piece of cloth was tied around her face as a makeshift gag. He pulled her up to his height by her hair, eliciting more cries.
 “Well sweetheart, this isn’t how I pictured this ending for us. I hope you’ll forgive me,” he said as he raised the knife to her throat. 
“Wait!” Luke shouted. 
It was too late. What followed next was nothing short of chaos. 
Luke let off two shots, both of which connected with the unsub. His body cascaded to the floor. You lunged forward at the poor victim. Her throat, now cut, was bleeding at an alarming rate. However, her eyes remained open and the gasps coming from her mouth told you she was still breathing. 
You threw yourself on the floor next to her, removing the gag from her mouth and placing it over her neck as a makeshift tourniquet. 
“Do you hear that?” you asked, the sirens were right outside the house. “Help is almost here, okay? You have to keep your eyes on me.” Her glassy eyes were locked on yours, but the panic was fading from them with the little life she had left. The cloth in your hands was soaked with blood and your hands were turning a deep shade of crimson. 
You shook your head. “No, no. Come on. Look at me,” you tried to encourage her to hold on just for another moment. 
In the midst of your mumbling, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You whirled around to see Luke crouched behind you. 
“She’s gone, Y/N,” he said gently. His eyes were locked on her lifeless body. You furrowed your brow, denial coursing through your veins. 
Just as you were about to protest, the EMTs burst through the door with Emily and Dr. Reid in tow. Luke pulled you out of the way as they tended to both the victim and the unsub. 
The four of you watched helplessly from the corner of the room. You felt your body shake gently, adrenaline getting the best of you. You could feel Reid’s eyes on you. His judgement making you more anxious. 
You watched as one of the EMTs working on the victim turned to look at you. He shook his head gently, a sign that she really was gone. 
You'd never forget her face.
A sigh of defeat left your lips and tears welled up in your eyes. In a moment driven by pure emotion, you shot out of the house and back towards the SUV.
Luke sprinted out the front door after you. “Where are you going?” he shouted, clearly confused by your sudden burst of determination. 
“Back to the hotel,” you said matter-of-factly, sliding into the driver’s seat of the car. He rushed over to the driver’s door, holding it open so you couldn’t slam it shut. 
He looked incredulous. “And who am I supposed to ride with?”
You rolled your eyes. “Luke, two people just died and you’re worried about who your chauffeur is going to be.” 
Luke seemed to get the message he pulled back from the door, allowing you to shut it. You started the SUV, cracking the window just enough to shout, “Catch a ride with Reid and Emily.”
You pulled out onto the highway, foot heavy on the pedal as adrenaline still run through you. 
Nearly half an hour later and still covered in blood, you stumbled into the hotel lobby. The desk lady, panicked, quickly rushed in front of you. The lady, presumably Linda based on her nametag, asked you if she needed to call the police. You’d shown her your badge with a bitter laugh, explaining that you were the police. The smell of her floral perfume was making your head spin more than it already was. Thankfully, with a sympathetic smile, she’d moved out of your way and allowed you to proceed to your room. 
Which was how you ended up here, trying to scrub blood off of your still-shaky hands. You weren’t sure how long you’d been at this, but you couldn’t quit now. The dark evidence was still embedded deep beneath your fingernails. 
-SPENCER’S POV-
Walking into the house behind Emily, I could already see the mess that had unraveled. There was blood on the wall, where the unsub lay propped up but clearly dead as if he’d landed sitting up. There was blood on the floor, covering the lifeless body of the last victim. 
And there was blood all over her, the new girl, who was standing in the corner. Her eyes stared off into the distance, and she looked like she could faint at any moment. 
She was nice. Too innocent for the job, clearly. If I hadn’t been sure about that from the other case we worked together, it was evident now. 
Emily and I walked over to the corner, standing beside Y/N and Luke as the EMTs worked on both the unsub and the victim on the other side of the room. Despite the gory scene before us, I couldn’t bring myself to take my eyes off Y/N yet. Thoughts laced with sympathy crept into my mind and I resisted the urge to reach out and put a hand on her shoulder. 
Just as I was about to do just that, the closest EMT turned to her and shook his head. The victim, as the unsub, was dead. She let out a sound that I could only describe as a shudder before she raced out the front door. 
“What the hell?” Luke asked, following her out. 
Emily sighed, staring at the two bodies before us as the EMTs packed up their things. “Kind of a harsh second case for the kid, huh?” she asked. 
I thought for a moment and shrugged, pushing sympathy away. “It’s not like it gets any easier from here on out, she might as well get used to it now.” I turned and started to walk out of the house, just in time to watch the new girl whip the SUV out of the driveway and hightail it back towards town. Though I wasn’t looking at her, I felt Emily shoot me a look. 
“You’d have never said a thing like that before you went away, Spencer,” she scolded. 
I took a deep breath. She was probably right. “No, I wouldn’t have, but things are different now,” I said plainly. 
I walked down the front porch steps and out on to the lawn where Luke was waiting for us, impatiently resting a hand on the handle of the SUV’s door. 
“Where’s your ride?” I quipped sarcastically. 
He shook his head. “Don’t start. It’s been a long day for all of us.” 
Emily caught up to me, pulling the SUV keys out of her pocket and unlocking the door so Luke could climb inside. As he did, she turned to me. 
“When we get back to the hotel, I want you to go check on Y/N.”
I felt my face contort in a scoff. “Why would I be the one to do that?” 
“Because,” Emily said, staring at the SUV before us, “someone needs to.” 
“So why don’t you?” I challenged, growing more exasperated by the second. 
Emily snapped her head to the side, her eyes shooting daggers at me. “Spencer,” she said sharply. I looked at her, trying to read her microexpressions. “I worry about you. Do you get that?” 
That wasn’t the reply I was expecting. 
I averted my eyes to the ground, somewhat ashamed of my previous attitude. “Yeah, I know.” 
“I want you to check on her because she needs someone who has seen bad things to explain to her that those bad things are survivable,” she started, eyes still locked on my face. I glanced up at her as she continued. 
“And, I want you to check on her because I think it would be good for you,” she finished. 
“Good for me?” I asked, with less attitude and more curiosity this time. 
Emily sensed the shift in my demeanor and I could see her shoulders relax. “Yes, good for you. Ever since you came back, you never stay out after cases anymore. Remember how we all used to go out together? Have a couple drinks? Relax?” 
I nodded because I did remember.  Those were some of the best memories of my life. 
“All you do anymore is go home or back to the hotels and hide in your room until the next morning, reading Vigotsky or Tarkovsky or whatever you do.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her I was reading the works of Dostoyevsky, so I let her continue uninterrupted. 
“It’s time for you to do some socializing. I think talking about yourself might do you some good for once. Besides, Y/N really is a ray of sunshine once you get to know her. I think her company will be good for you.” 
I thought about what she said for a moment. She wasn’t entirely wrong. “Alright,” I said, “I’ll stop by her room before I go to bed for the night.”
Satisfied with my answer, Emily proceeded to the SUV. 
Soon enough, we were back at the hotel. I thought about how to proceed. Should I go to her room immediately? Should I wait and change out of my work clothes first? 
Absolutely not. Talking is one thing. Wearing my pajamas in front of her? That’s too personal. 
I decided to head straight to her room. Ripping the bandaid off seemed like the best option. 
I strolled down the hall and stopped in front of her door. I placed three quick knocks on the door and waited. And waited. I knocked again. Nothing. 
Maybe she’d gone out for the evening, I reasoned. Or, maybe she was asleep. Regardless, I was ready to turn and go back to my room when I heard the faintest sound of running water coming from inside. 
My mind raced. She was surely just in the shower, right? Or maybe running a bath? The FBI agent in me freaked out. What if she’d went off the deep end and was trying to drown herself? Or what if-
I tried to run through my options, the first obvious one being to try the door handle, which was miraculously unlocked. Who the hell leaves their door unlocked in a cheap hotel like this?
“Y/N?” I called out as I stepped into the room. The bathroom door was wide open to the left of the main door I just entered, and I peered around the corner. 
She stood before the sink, eyes locked on her hands which appeared to be scrubbed nearly raw. I walked inside, concern building by the moment. “What are you doing?” I asked. 
She didn’t hear me - or she ignored me if she did. She continued scrubbing her hands diligently. I leaned forward to get a better look. A few red streaks ran off her hand and down the sink, but I wasn’t so sure what she was washing off was the victim’s blood anymore. 
“Y/N, stop. You’re hurting yourself,” I scolded. Her motions continued. She seemed dazed and unaware of my presence. She was surely in some kind of shock. 
As I stood behind her, I felt as though the scrubbing intensified. I made a snap decision. Stepping forward, I placed my arms on either side of her body, caging her in around the sink as I firmly grabbed her forearms and separated her hands. 
She jumped violently, enough for me to release her arms from my grip and back away quickly. 
“My god, Dr. Reid. How long have you been here?” she asked as her voice shook. She looked exhausted and her hands were bright red. Red lines where she’d repeatedly used her nails to scrape at the skin caught my eye. I pulled my gaze away from her hands, making eye contact with her for the first time. “I came to check on you, after everything. I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”
She looked down at her hands, the realization of what she had done became apparent as she flexed her fingers and winced. 
“Looks like I came at the right time,” I said quietly, more to myself than to her. 
She shook her head incredulously before she began apologizing profusely. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Reid. I have no idea why I was doing that. You shouldn’t have had to-” 
I shrugged. “It happens.”
Silence filled the room as I noticed she was still in her blood-soaked clothes. Thoughts whirled through my mind, but I couldn’t form a coherent thought. Words were pouring out of my mouth without my approval. 
 “Here’s what I purpose,” I said before I could stop myself. “Take a shower, get changed, and meet me in my room for a few minutes. I just want to talk to you about a some things.”
 She stared at the floor. I almost thought she was going to say no. 
“Okay,” she whispered. 
I nodded, heading for the bathroom door. “Room 91A. And please, call me Spencer,” I stated. Not waiting for her response, I shut the bathroom door behind me and locked her hotel door on my way out.
-READER POV-
You felt like you were in trouble. 
You know when you’re merely a child and you get in trouble in the middle of class? You know the feeling of your stomach sinking as you walk to the principal’s office?
That was the only way you could describe walking to Dr. Reid’s - Spencer’s - room. 
After a shower that stung your hands and brought tears to your eyes, you slipped into some comfy clothes and wrapped gauze around the rawest parts of your palms, before heading to his room. 
Room 91A. You tapped your knuckles on the door twice. You heard shuffling from inside the room. Spencer stood before you, also showered, also in his pajamas. 
This caught you by surprise. He could tell by the way your eyebrows shot up at his appearance. “I figured we might as well be comfortable with one another,” he said before stepping out of the way. “Come in.”
You brushed past him as you walked inside. Though it was just a hotel room, something about the stack of books on the side table and paperwork scattered on the desk brought a small smile to your face. 
One book in particular laid face up on the edge of the bed. “Dostoyevsky?” you asked. 
Spencer raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by your question. “Yes. Have you read his work?” 
You nodded, glancing up at him as you ran your hand over the cover of the book, tracing the engraving on the cover of the antique copy. “Everybody knows Crime and Punishment, but I prefer White Nights.” 
You’d caught him off guard. “I didn’t know you were interested in Russian literature,” he said, walking to the other side of the room and taking a seat in one of the two armchairs positioned in the corner, “or any literature, for that matter.” 
You shrugged. “We’ve only known each other for two weeks. I’m not sure why you’d have any idea.” 
His stare faltered, and you caught him averting his eyes to the floor as he leaned back in the chair. “I should have asked. I haven’t been very kind to you. I haven’t done a very good job of making you feel welcome here,” he started cautiously. 
That caught your attention. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, but your first response was to reassure him. “It’s no problem, Spencer. It’s been so busy that I haven’t had time to get to know anyone very well.” You perched yourself on the edge of the bed, watching him carefully. 
“That isn’t true,” he said matter of factly. 
“Excuse me?” you asked, genuinely confused as to if you heard him right. 
Spencer cleared his throat, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the tops of his thighs. His hands folded and he used them as a rest for his chin. You could see the gears turning in his head. 
“I said that it isn’t true. You have gotten to know everyone quite well, from what I gather,” Spencer said. 
Before you could respond, he started in again. “I’ve seen pictures of you with Luke and Penelope at the club after the last case. I know you went to lunch with Will and JJ. She says you’re fantastic with Henry and Michael. Tara told me you helped Rossi finish the thousand piece puzzle he’s had splayed out on his office table for two months. All this while Emily claims you’re a ray of sunshine.” 
Your mouth had fallen open a bit in the midst of his confession. You tried to think of an appropriate response. “Well, yes. That’s all true. But I don’t expect you to go out of your way to get to know me. I’m a people person.” You pointed to the books on his side table. “You, on the other hand, seem to prefer quiet time alone. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
The room was silent for a moment. The sound of Spencer’s foot tapping quietly against the floor kept the time. One, two, three… 
“I didn’t used to be this way,” he said frankly. 
You glanced at him, trying to read his expression. His face was stoic. He didn’t look particularly upset, though he surely wasn’t happy either. He ran a lone hand through his hair and brushed a few solitary curls from his eyes. 
“I know,” you responded. 
He furrowed his brow at you, confusion written all over his face. You rose from the bed and approached him before plopping down in the armchair next to his. 
“You know how, for us normal people, we spend a few years in training before we actually get a real assignment?” you asked. 
He nodded. 
“I’ve been with the Bureau in that capacity going on four years,” you started, eyes locked on the wall across from you. “My third year, there were rumors about an FBI agent spending time in prison for some high-level crime. People theorized it was connected to drug running, treason, even murder.”
Spencer cringed. 
“For the longest time, I thought it was a rumor. I forgot about it and I got an internship in Internal Affairs,” you continued. “One day, my boss handed me this huge file, full of reports going back over a decade.”
He was curious now, staring at you intensely as you did your best not to melt under his gaze. 
“If you haven’t figured it out yet, that was your file. One section was full of every report you’d ever written. The other section was what the Department of Justice had collected in an attempt to convict you in the fall.” 
This was new information to Spencer, who felt himself let out a bitter laugh. You paused to look at him. 
“I’m not sure why I’m surprised by that,” he said sourly. “I knew then they would want to be as far away from the case as possible. No wonder it was easier for them to try to keep me in there.” 
You shrugged, continuing. “I guess Emily had called in a favor with Internal Affairs. I was tasked with finding proof of innocence.” 
“And?” Spencer asked. 
“I couldn’t find any,” you stated simply. He nodded. “But I never forgot the file, especially the pictures inside. I never forget a face. Reading through your life with the Bureau, seeing the sequence of ID images each year as you got older, maybe even colder. That stuck with me for some reason.”
He appeared intrigued and was clearly doing his best not to interrupt. 
“When I woke up one morning and saw this huge CBS headline about the DOJ dropping the charges against a wrongly accused agent, I felt a strange kind of vindication,” you admitted. “Nine months later I got a call from Emily, asking me to come in for an interview. Two months later, now we’re here.”  
“Now we’re here,” he repeated. 
You cleared your throat. “What I didn’t bank on when I joined the BAU, was the same face from that file would be across from me at the table every day.”
You turned to him to find he was already looking at you, and you offered him a small smile. “All this to say,” you whispered, “I think you have every reason not to be friendly with the new hire.” 
The room was silent once more, the two of you sneaking glances at each other. Spencer was the first to break the silence. 
“Emily sent me to check on you because she thought it would be good for both of us,” he confessed. “She said you should see me as an example that people can get through bad things, and that I needed to get out of my head and into the real world.” 
You were quiet for a moment before shifting in the chair. You thought of everything you’d seen over the last twelve hours.
“I never forget a face,” you whispered again, thinking back to the victim on the floor. Her glassy eyes staring up at your own. 
Spencer nodded. “Me either.” 
“So how do you do it?” you asked him. 
He turned to you. You swore you could see tears forming in his eyes. 
“I find that there's always that little moment right when you wake up in the morning, when everything's good, because your mind has temporarily forgotten the bad stuff.”
You smiled as he continued. “At night, when I can’t sleep, I make a list in my head of all the good things I've seen someone do. Every little thing I can remember. It's like a game.”
You tried to think about every good thing you’d ever seen someone do and tears welled in your eyes. “I think that’s a wonderful idea,” you said. 
“It works sometimes,” Spencer smiled. He moved forward, placing a hand on your knee. You looked up at him. The two of you stared at each other. 
“You have to know that you’ll never fully forget these things, but we get through it as a team,” he finished. 
The tears welled up in your eyes spilled over, and you noticed that a few of his own had to. The hand on your knee moved up, wiping the fallen tears from your cheeks.
After a moment of letting the tears dry, you rose from the chair. “I really appreciate this, Spencer. I’m sorry that you had to go out of your way to help me, but I am very grateful.” 
He stood, towering over you. “It’s not a problem. I enjoyed talking to you.” 
“I enjoyed talking to you too,” you said with a smile. You stood next to him for a moment, enjoying the feeling of his close proximity before you snapped out of it. “Well, I should probably go back to my room and let you get back to your work.”
You turned from him and walked towards the door, pausing only when you heard his voice call after you. 
“Y/N,” he said, taking a few steps in your direction to where you’d crossed the room. 
“Yeah, Spencer?” you said, turning to face him. 
He faltered, his eyes finding the floor again. “I just,” Spencer stuttered for a moment, trying to regain his cool. “I was wondering if you wanted to stay. Stay and talk, of course. I-” he paused a moment more. Spencer took a deep breath. “I think Emily was right. I do enjoy your company and I’d like you to stay for a while,” he said firmly. 
You couldn’t hide the surprise on your face. Spencer saw it, too, quickly rushing to give you an out. 
“You don’t have to, of course,” he rushed. His cheeks burned red. 
“No, I don’t have to,” you said. “But I’d like to.” 
You saw his shoulders relax as the tension left his body. 
“Great,” Spencer nodded. He sounded relieved. 
You walked over to the armchair, plopping back down next to him. “Right, so,” you started, “What’s your topic of choice, Spence?” 
The use of his nickname brought the blush back to his cheeks as he scurried back into the chair next to you. 
He glanced at the books on the side table, the topic of conversation coming to him quickly. “Tell me,” Spencer started, “What resonates with you about the White Lady?”
You smiled before diving into a summary that not only analyzed the text but connected it to your own life. You thought your heart skipped a beat when you caught a glimpse of Spencer smiling warmly at you as you rambled. 
It was a long, interesting, conversation-filled night. 
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kingsoowolves · 3 days
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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.
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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.
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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. 
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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
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NERD!ANAKIN HEADCANONS
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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."
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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 💋)
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[🍪] chocolate chip cookie, includes; a fic inspired by a song of your choice!
maybe frat!rafe or either dealer!rafe (👀) with friends by chase atlantic😁😁😁😁😁😁😁they’re at a party and all her friends are fucked up and yk HAKSJDKD
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₊˚⊹ᰔ 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬
pairing: dealer!rafe x fem!reader
summary: ❝all of your friends have been here for too long, they must be waiting for you to move on. girl, i’m not with it, i’m way too far gone.❞ — after confessing his feelings for you, rafe gets nervous and leaves you the following morning. now you two are at a party, and he isn’t leaving without you.
warnings: friends w benefits au, mentions of drinking and dealing of drugs, arguing, suggestive ending
word count: 0.7k
a/n: wrote this with s2 rafe in mind..
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you were the only sober one at this party. along with rafe, who never drank when he was dealing, and vowed to never get high on his own supply. you knew he’d be here— a party wasn’t a party if rafe wasn’t serving up people in the corner of the living room. you stared at him from a distance, his eyes occasionally finding yours when he looked up from the stacks of money on the table. you hated how good he looked tonight. skin flushed with a sheen of sweat from having so many people around him, his bangs hanging loosely in his face, with that blue jeans and white t-shirt combo that you loved so much.
you swallowed thickly, your trance being broken when one of your, very drunk, friends grabbed onto your arm for support. “stop looking at himmm!” she slurred, cackling when you rolled your eyes. “he just wants you for himself without any real commitment.” she nearly lost her footing, a yelp leaving her lips as you decided to guide her out of the kitchen. while your friend wasn’t all the way wrong, she didn’t know enough about you and rafe’s ‘situationship’ to form an opinion on it. your friends only knew what you told them, which meant they’ve only ever heard your annoyed rants.
“let’s get you over here..” you sat her down on the couch where the rest of your friends drunkenly talked amongst each other. rafe wasn’t far from where you sat, his laugh echoing in your ears as he started stuffing his black backpack full of cash. you could tell by the smile on his face that he had a good night for shop. sensing that you were looking at him, rafe felt the burn of your gaze as he got up, having no intention of leaving this party without you on his arm. you smelled his cologne before he approached you, the scent making your heart flutter in your chest.
“hey, can we talk?” rafe stopped in front of you, your friends turning around at the sound of his voice. you looked up at him, cursing under your breath at how handsome he was. “leave her alone, asshole!” rafe smiled at your friend, flipping her off before getting you up and taking you outside. “your friends are annoying as fuck.” he stopped by his truck, backing you up against the vehicle until his thigh sat comfortably between your legs. you knew what he was doing. “they’re drunk..” you glared at him, “what do you want?” rafe tilted his head at your words. “what do i want?” he repeated.
“you gonna act like you weren’t staring me down in there?” he laughed, cupping your chin. “you look pretty.” turning your head away from him, you shrugged him off as you arched a brow. “i was looking at you, and?” you ignored his little compliment. “..and you haven’t replied to any of my messages or called me back.. why?” you shook your head. “are you seriously asking me this? you tell me you have feelings for me while you’re inside of me, and then leave without a word in the morning? excuse me if i felt like you were toying with me or something.” you crossed your arms over your chest.
“i got nervous, alright! but i swear to you i meant every word. i would never mess with you like that..” he stepped closer. “i’ve been wanting this, us, for a long time, y/n. i’m not good at this stuff, but i want to try, i want to do it with you.” your gaze softened. “do you mean that?” your voice was small, a clear indication that you weren’t trying to argue with him anymore. “i fucking swear by it.” you watched as his jaw clenched. “i wont disappoint you, baby.” finally, for the first time in two weeks, he took you in his arms. you sighed, feeling a weight you didn’t know was there, lift off of your shoulders.
“is this a revenge dress?” you laughed when he pulled away, inspecting your outfit. “no, but it worked.” you teased. rafe leaned down and kissed you, in which you wasted no time in returning. “come on, let’s get out of here.. ‘before your friends threaten me.” you let him place you in the passenger seat, a squeal leaving your lips when he landed a harsh smack to your ass.
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cvpidzcvrse · 2 days
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Nah, I'm Better.
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divider by @cafekitsune
✦A/N: OK! this took longer than expected but LISTEN! I'm here now and probably will be dropping more frequently (hopefully). Reader is also a slut I mean she could talk me through it and I'd let her. But I tried to eat down as much as possible for this fic so the girlies and the gays wouldn't starve. Gojo is driving my dream car, a girl can only imagine.
⋆.ೃ࿔*・Synopsis: You and Satoru have been best friends since elementary school. By the time you both made it to college he’s hated every single partner you’ve ever had. Your recent ex isn’t any different, but he’s doing something about it this time.
⋆.ೃ࿔*・wc: 2,886
⋆.ೃ࿔*Warnings: best friends to lovers, praise, car sex, arguments (ish), cowgirl, choking, handjob, p in v, no protection, finishing inside (practice safe sex)
(the reader is black)
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If you had a dollar for every time you and Satoru got mistaken for a couple you’d be rich, not richer than him. He loves it when people mistake him for your boyfriend. It’s the ego boost he doesn’t need. He’s liked you for a while but you always shut him down. Either for another guy or because you see him as just a “friend”. You knew that was a lie, you didn’t want to ruin the friendship between you guys. So to buried your feelings for Satoru and used other men as a distraction. Fuck buddies, friends with benefits, sugar daddies, you name it. Nothing was ever successful; it always ended in heartbreak or fights. Satoru hated that you went for men who were lower than your standard.
He hated that you didn’t go for him. That’s part of the reason why he’s parked outside a fancy restaurant waiting for you to walk out.  
You thought this guy was the one, you’d been talking for a couple weeks, going on dates, even fucked a few times. But no people always have to ruin it, it was fun while it lasted. Mahito was a guy you met off of Tinder. He was nice, sweet, and probably the realest guy you’ve ever met. That was until date number four when he brought up his love for podcasts. Specifically a podcast by the name ‘Fresh and Fit’, you know the podcast that goes around and hates on women for a check. 
What a loser…
After learning that information you left the date immediately. Leaving him with a “Get a life, nigga.” before quickly walking out of the restaurant. The cold drizzle of rain calms your nerves as you heave out a soft sigh. Your eyes meet a familiar and sleek all-black Ford Bronco. An air of comfort travels throughout your body. You haven’t been this excited to see Satoru since…ever. He’s already looking in your direction with his cheeky smile, flashing you his pearly white teeth. He’s always been handsome, your whole life was spent watching girls and even guys swoon over him. You can’t even remember if he accepted any of the advances, you don’t even think he’s had a girlfriend that you know of.
His jagged blue eyes met your dark brown ones and it’s like a firework went off in front of you. Your waist-length knotless braids, glossy plump lips, and warm brown skin have him in a chokehold. The way your honey-glazed skin complimented your outfit made him want to rip it off right there. Luckily his windows are tinted enough to hide his very noticeable lustful gaze, but you felt his eyes burning holes into your head. With a visible frown on your face, you swiftly open the car door. You come face to face with Satoru’s fuck boy grin, you almost melt on the spot.
“When I said ‘call me for emergencies.’ It didn’t include shitty dates.”
You roll your eyes before playfully punching his arm. Satoru speeds out of the parking lot before you can even put your seatbelt on. Your back hits the seat roughly before you send a glare Satoru’s way.
“Chill out, nigga damn. You didn’t even hear how the date went and you’re already mad.”
“I’m mad because you didn’t listen to me. I told you not to trust that fucking loser, now look at where we are.”
You could hear his eyes rolling before you saw it. He’s the leader of the sassy man apocalypse and he never denies it. You grimaced at the undeniable truth that he was right, and you knew it. You cross your arms over your chest and gaze out at the widow districting yourself with the scenery. 
“Hey…look at me.”
His light-hearted voice quickly melted in your ears like honey. He softly gripped your chin and turned your face to his. He analyzed your expression for a moment. Admiring your features, planning your future, imagining his cock inside of you. He’s quickly brought out of his thoughts when you playfully push his hand away. 
“Hands off, this makeup took time.”
He scuffs at your statement before looking back at the busy road. You analyze him for a while, taking in his features. Your thoughts are more innocent than his, and you hope it stays that way. 
“Listen…I’m sorry I didn’t listen. But, niggas man you don’t understand. They’re all so annoying.”
The more you think about your past rendezvous the more it turned into torture. Satoru knew about every failed date. He was always there to be a shoulder to cry on and a dick to ride if you asked him. He knows very well about your tragic love life, he doesn’t remember a successful relationship you’ve been in. He lectured you every time he picked you up from a bad date or situationship ending in ‘So, what are we?’. He wasn’t upset with you, he was more upset that you refused to see his obvious feelings for you. 
“This is just starting to get repetitive. (✧), This is just...nevermind”
He smacked his lips at the end of his statement. A habit he picked up from you after all of the years you two have spent together. His mouth opens to say something else but nothing comes out. He huffs and runs his hand through his hair, he’s frustrated by the current events.
“Don’t get an attitude with me. You think I want to date guys like this?”
Your accusatory tone makes his attention shift slightly from the road. He scans his brain for what to say. He doesn’t want to upset you anymore but he also didn’t want to sugarcoat anything. As a wannabe lover, he wants nothing but the best for you even if it means telling you a harsh reality. 
Your taste in men is shit. 
He doesn’t have enough fingers or toes to list off the amount of guys that hurt you in the past. Nanami was too formal for you, Toji was a bum that leeched off of you, Sukuna was an asshole, and Satoru would’ve killed Suguru if he even attempted to flirt with you. 
“No, you know what I mean. You deserve better than these dumbasses you go after.”
The venom in his voice is very noticeable. Satoru’s carefree nature is cracking under the stress of your love life. Your stubborn nature refuses to let you back down to him, especially when he’s like this. 
“Toru’ I can date and fuck who I want! I don’t need to be lectured by you. I understand that you care, but let me live my life.”
Your response almost sent Satoru out of the car. His eyes twitched in annoyance and his knuckles turned white from gripping the steering wheel. You watch the way his jaw tightened and his muscles flexed. It turned you on, a lot. As much as you hate to admit it, you looove making him mad. It was just the way his relaxed facade melted away when you threw careless sentences at him. His foot softly pressed on the brake when coming to a red light. He slowly shifted his body to face you, if looks could fuck he’d be fucking you right now. Just the thought of him bending you over the center console had your clit aching. 
“Do not say that, I will crash this car right now and kill us both.”
He glanced at you with a smirk trying to lighten the melancholy-stricken mood. You scuff at his childish antics.
“Oh my god, be for real-”
Ring…
Your phone buzzed in your purse, and your soon-to-be lecture got cut short. Your eyes widened when you saw the caller I.D. read ‘Mahito’. You let it ring for a few seconds before finally answering it. 
“Why are you calling me? I told you we were over.”
Satoru's ears perked when he heard the hostility in your voice. There was a snarky voice on the other end and they were loudly throwing a fit. His eyes analyzed your expression and the way your calmness was replaced with annoyance. 
“You don’t think I can do better than you?…You’re one goofy ass nigga, you know that?…Whatever, fuck you!”
You harshly shoved your phone into your purse and groaned. The awkward silence was almost tangible; you would have to cut it with a chainsaw. Mahito’s words circled in your head and it pissed you off more and more. Who does he think he is? You hum slightly when a very filthy idea comes to your mind. 
“Satoru, I need you to take me somewhere.”
。.。:∞♡*
“Why the fuck are we here? Please don’t tell me you’re about to do something stupid.”
Satoru’s tone is laced with worry and confusion. He has no clue why he was parked outside of Mahito’s house right now and he didn’t know why you wanted to come here. You give him a cheeky smile before unbuckling your seatbelt and slowly leaning over the center console. You’re incredibly close to Satoru’s face, your nose practically touching his. All you can do is stare sensually into his ice-blue eyes, but the sense of longing is undeniably visible. 
“What are you doing?”
His voice spills out lowly like silk touching your ears. You take in a breath before crashing your lips into his. He’s caught by surprise but that’s quickly replaced with lust. His veiny hands quickly trace every curve on your body and tangle his fingers in your braids. You pull away taking in the wonderful scenery that Satoru was turned into. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is messy. You both stare at each other in awe and affection. It’s like something was unlocked in the middle of this little plan of revenge. 
“Get in the back.”
You nod before watching him walk out and around as you climb in the back. He opens the back door and stares at you for a moment, taking in the way your skirt is hiked up and your shirt tousled around. He quickly gets in and closes the door, basically pouncing on you. His mouth attacks your neck quickly, leaving several bite marks and hickeys. Without breaking the kiss you roughly pushed him onto the car door behind him. He lets out a low groan and rests his hands on your waist. You reach down and fumble with his belt buckle before finally breaking the kiss and using your hands. 
“If you need help you could’ve just asked.”
“Shut up.”
He chokes out a gasp when you take his cock out of his boxers. You wrap your manicured hand around his big cock and slowly massage the length. You trace circles around his tip with your thumb. A low groan settles at the bottom of his throat as silence sighs escape his lips. He unscrewed his eyes to meet the brazen expression on your face. His chuckles and mixed moans are sending you over the edge. You reach down and caress your clit through your panties. Satoru doesn’t fall ignorant of this and quickly grabs your hand to stop the satisfying motion.
“Suck it, I want your mouth.”
He let out a low chuckle as you took his full length into your mouth. You let out a whine as the tip of his cock touched the back of your throat. Satoru’s head flew back in pleasure as his hand rested comfortably on top of your head. He can sense your greed from the way your tongue moves along his tip. He sighed out a moan and softly pushed your head down further. 
“F-fuck…you’re doing so well.”
He stifles a throaty moan with his free hand and laces his hands in your hair. You were quick to grab his wrist and yank his hand away. You trailed soft kisses up the length of his cock, from base to tip. 
“I wanna hear you, pretty boy. Let me hear you.”
Your voice was soothing and soft it probably could’ve put him to sleep if it weren’t for the current circumstances. He melted at your command and quickly left his hand to the side. You tease his leaking tip with your tongue before putting it all in your mouth again. His mouth goes agape as slutty moans spill out and his hands grip your hair tightly. The way your head is bobbing up and down on his cock has his mind going blank. His cock twitches in your mouth before he quickly shoves your head away.
“I don’t want to cum yet. C’mon get on top, ride what’s yours.”
You swiftly straddle his lap and he pushes your panties to the side. You wrap your arms around him as he slowly pushes you on his hard cock. You let a soft moan and tug at Satoru’s hair. He moans in response and pushes you down deeper.
“Shit…fuck me, c’mon.”
His mouth is hovering over your ear and his voice is low and seductive. You slowly start to rock your hips and grind on his cock. After adjusting to his size you messily start bouncing on his cock. Strings of curses spew out of his mouth and his grip on your waist gets tighter. 
“Like this baby? Mmph…you’re so big.”
The constant praise is making the blood rush to his face. He hides his blushing face in your shoulder and leaves several bite marks. The car windows turn foggy and the only thing illuminating the car is the moonlight. Satoru’s moans can probably be heard from blocks away. His hands are under your sweater groping and squeezing your plush breast. His fingers pull and twist at your nipples as your pace gets messy. 
“Give me your hand…”
His voice is carnal and vibrating in your ear. It makes your clit twitch and your tempo stagger. You untangle your hand from his hair and place your hand in his. He takes two of your fingers and places them in his mouth. He doesn’t break eye contact, he’s just looking at you like a meal waiting to be devoured. He slowly sucks them and swirls his tongue around them. The scene in front of you is so sensual and slow, you’ve never experienced something so intimate before. He slowly pulls your fingers out of his as a saliva trail is the only thing left behind.
“Play with your clit for me. I wanna watch while you bounce on my cock.”
His voice moves like velvet through your body. It’s like he’s talking right to your pussy and she’s answering very loudly. The moment your hand reaches your clit Satoru plunges his cock into you. His thrust gets more violent and his large cock attacks your cervix. Your head dips back in pleasure in the constant assault on your insides. 
He’s starting to unravel like a present. His strokes get messier, sweet liquid spilling everywhere, his moans getting louder and more frequent. His nail prints are embedded on your love handles and your thighs are a wet mess. 
“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. C’mon baby you can do it.”
His pleading sends shivers down your spine. You’ve never seen him so desperate before, it was empowering that your pussy brought him down a few notches. His pussy drunk stare is intoxicating to look at. The way he’s looking at you with his eyes half-lidded with nothing but lust in them. There was something about the way he looked at you; it wasn't just lust. It was like you were a necessity to him, he needed you.
“Mmph…baby I’m ‘bouta cum!”
“Cum for me, you’d make me so proud. Cum on my cock princess.”
Satoru replaced your hand with his and traced circles on your clit. With his hand working its magic and his cock peppering kisses on your cervix sends you crazy. The car is rocking very noticeably but you could care less. Your climax crashes onto you like a brick. Your juices spill all over his thick cock and coat his length in a slippery mess. His warm and sticky ropes decorate your insides, leaving his pants soaked and a wet ring around the base of his cock.
“That’s it, I’m so proud of you baby.”
 He tenderly pulls out and holds you tight to him, taking in the moment. You rest your forehead on his shoulder, you both desperately trying to catch whatever air is left in your lungs. You hear Satoru chuckle slowly while tracing kisses on your neck. 
“What’s so funny? Did my pussy make you delirious or what?” 
He shakes his head and lifts your head softly and turns it towards the window. While swallowed by lust you didn’t notice Satoru rolled the window down. Mahito is staring in awe and anger; he looks like he is about to explode. Satoru’s chuckle turns into a full-blown cackle as he glances at Mahito, sending him that cheeky smile that you love so much. You join Satoru in his joyous laughter before reaching over and rolling up the window.
“At least my plan worked. Let’s do it again but this time with handcuffs.” 
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luveline · 2 days
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hi jade! i was wondering if you could do a zombie!au fic where r helps steve when he wakes up from a nightmare?
For a split second, Steve doesn’t know that you’re you, and he shoves you away hard. He scrambles away from you in the dark, kicking at your leg, your light sleep torn open as he shouts an unintelligible word and tumbles against the zipped tent door. 
“Steve, it’s me,” you say, voice scared and croaky with sleep. “It’s just me, it’s just me. Just us.” 
His breath is ragged. Your leg aches from the brunt of his entire body weight, your arm stings similarly. You can barely see him in the dark, his mouth a black hole, his eyes a strange shade of their usual brown as he sucks in harsh breath. You sit up with a groan. 
“Just me,” you say again, softer, “nobody else.” 
“Did I hurt you?” he asks. 
“It’s okay.” 
He swallows a lump. “Did I?”
“No. It’s alright. Come back over here, you didn't hurt me.” 
He looks at you like you’re an alien, but he shuffles back across the tent to sit by you again on the packed out mattress and your few sheets. When he’s close enough, you take the zipper on his hoodie and pull it down, away from his neck and open, before pushing the garment from his shoulders to bring out his arms. The rightmost has a bad scar from a worse infection running down the forearm, but besides that, he has a smooth expanse of skin for touching. You want to touch him. 
“I kicked you,” he says, “I’m sorry.” 
You hold him by the elbow, turned to him with your chin up. You want to get a good look at him. His bottom lip trembles. “Bad dream?” you ask gently. 
He presses his lips into a tight line. 
“I know they scare you, but it’s really okay, Steve, you’re okay.” Your voice has turned to butter, a silky whisper as you bring your hand to his cheek, and he crushes it between his face and his shoulder. “It’s okay.” 
“It’s okay,” he says finally, eyes squeezing shut. 
Fuck, baby, you think, pushing up onto your knees. “Gonna hug you,” you say, wrapping your arms around his head. 
He smells like that strange, subtle sweat that clings to his hair while he sleeps. No discernible odour, but the scent of perspiration. Maybe it’s just how he smells, or his pillow, his t-shirt? You bury your nose into his hair and attempt to rub the tension from between his shoulders.
“You smell nice,” you whisper, pressing a bunch of quick, loving kisses into his limp hair.  
“Did I hurt you a lot, when I–” He clears his throat. “I pushed you twice. I’m sorry.” 
“Baby, don’t be sorry, I don’t care.” 
“I didn’t mean to, I just thought it was you. They were– it was ripping my face off.” 
“That’s not gonna happen. Nothing’s gonna hurt you.” You close your eyes, let your face rest almost entirely in his hair. “I'm not gonna let that happen to you, I promise.” 
His breathing slows. His hands curl loosely in the front of your shirt. 
“Do you wanna lay back down? It’s still night, I think. It’s so cold.” 
Steve pulls away from you to look over your face. Without comment, he grabs his hoodie from around his waist to drape over your shoulders, sliding across toward his pillow, a hesitancy in his movements. “I think I’ll stay awake. Just for a bit. I don’t want to have the same dream.” 
“I’ll stay awake with you.” 
“No, you should sleep. It’ll make me feel better if I can…” 
He wants to watch you sleep. You wrap his hoodie around you tightly and slip back down onto your back on the portable mattress, your face to his thigh. You clasp his ankle in your hand. 
“You don’t wanna talk about it?” you ask. 
Steve encourages your face onto his thigh properly. Your neck aches, but you’ve no inclination to tell him as his hand cups your neck. “No. It was stupid. I woke you up. Scared you.” 
“No way. You don’t scare me.” 
He exhales. His thumb strokes your chin. “At least I get to wake up to you. From a nightmare to a straight up dream.” 
You hold his eyes. “Oooh, smooth.” 
He bends down to touch your nose to his. “I really don’t hurt you?” he asks again, whispering. 
“No, I promise.” 
You draw lazy half circles into his ankle and pretend to feel more tired than you do. Steve stays there for a while, bent over you without a sound. His hands are shaking. When sleep begins to weigh you down again, he noses a kiss behind your ear and sits up. You wonder what he’s thinking, listening to his breath. He doesn’t wake you again that night.
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 days
Text
Fake dating 2 (mini fic)
Part one here
❤️
Now that Jason was leaving you alone it felt like there was a time limit on your "relationship" with Eddie. You're hesitant to admit that your feelings have changed after Eddie's dismissive attitude.
His words keep coming back to you whenever you think of telling him. What was the point?
There was no way you could talk to him and ruin the budding friendship that was happening between the two of you. You adored hanging out with Eddie at the trailer; his uncle Wayne was funny and really nice to you and the trailer had begun to feel like a home away from home.
You didn't want to ruin what you had by admitting your feelings and making everything super awkward and you were so busy trying to cover up your feelings that you didn't notice Eddie beginning to struggle with his...
❤️
Naturally Dustin is the first person to notice Eddie's changing feelings. Even after he took the little shrimp to the record store and Family Video.
He's watching Eddie with an amused grin on his face while browsing the horror collection.
Eddie wasn't normally a jealous person, at least there wasn't a universe where he ever thought he'd be jealous of Steve Harrington...
Okay maybe that was a teeny tiny lie. He was a little jealous that Steve seemed to have it all. Rich, good looks and the ladies loved him but it was a passing thought than anything else.
Now he couldn't quite ignore the jealousy that was raging through him.
"So that oh we don't actually have real feelings for each other comments really came back to bite you in the ass huh dude?" Dustin says sarcastically and Eddie glares at him. The little shrimp and his tone was getting worse by the day.
Dustin is patting his shoulder in a meant to be soothing manner and that irritated Eddie even more.
"Yeah. Real helpful you little butthead" he grumbles as Steve says something that makes you laugh.
He shouldn't be feeling like this but every inch of him is thrumming with envy. Without thinking Eddie walks over and slips his arms around your waist, you look at him surprised.
"Harrington. Good to see you" stop flirting with my girl you butthead he seethes, fuck. He really does want you to be his girl. The realisation is staggering to him because he's been living in denial for a while now.
And instead of admitting these feelings he panics and takes his attitude out on Steve. He feels guilty about doing it but he doesn't like the way Steve is looking at you. Doesn't he have enough chicks swooning about his good looks?
He can tell you're irritated but he's having trouble getting his annoyance under control and once Dustin has picked the movies he likes, he storms out to his van.
When you follow him out with Dustin the look on your face makes Eddie's stomach churn. Dustin shakes his head as he looks between the pair of you and climbs in the front with him.
"Are you coming?" he asks even though he really doesn't want to know the answer.
"What was that with Steve? Why did I feel like I was in the middle of some pissing contest?" he gulps and really he should just apologise but he puts his foot in his mouth. "Sorry I just feel a little nauseated what with all of Steve's flirting" he snaps and Dustin groans.
Your eyes flash with anger and you glare at him, "He's my friend Eddie. Even if he was flirting I'm not interested" this lessons the ache in Eddie's chest but he's still pissed at Steve.
"Yeah well clearly Steve is" he grumbles and the anger fades from your features.
"What does it matter? This isn't real. Our feelings and all of this shit is fake. You said it yourself" your voice cracks at the end and he stiffens. Shit. He did see that... and now you looked like you were going to cry.
"I think I'll walk home today" you tell him and rush away before he can call you back. Shit. Shit.
"You know that I admire you dude but you really can be the world's biggest dumbass at times" Dustin pipes up and he sighs.
Yeah. He definitely is.
❤️
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The Soldier Of Death (7)- Recruitment
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Natasha Romanoff X Super Soldier Reader 18+
Summary: Soldat Smerti. The Soldier of Death. You were the perfect weapon: loyal, obedient, and merciless, or so Hydra thought. What happens when these traits are put to the test? Your captivity in the Avenger's tower and the presence of a redhead makes you realise you didn't have to be a monster. The question was though; Did Hydra make you the monster or were you always one?
This fic will contains dark themes. Please read these warnings before starting any of these chapters: graphic descriptions of murder, violence, gore and torture, heavy angst, mental issues.
Please consider these warnings before reading
Word Count: 2.7k
General Masterlist | The Soldier Of Death Masterlist
Chapter Warning: Dark thoughts, anxiety, brief reference to torture
"You wanted to see me?" Natasha says as she strolls into Nick's office, him requesting her presence as soon as possible. The redhead ditched the mission reports she was doing to come and see the Director, having a feeling this was something far more important.
"How are things progressing with our Soldat Smerti?" he asks as his eye is trained on her, his expression blank as he doesn't want to give away his ideas. Natasha also keeps her face stoic as for some reason the name he called you bothered her, did he not see that your name was Y/n on the file she submitted?
"She's open to talking more, still very hesitant and cautious but that's understandable for someone who's been institutionalised for a large amount of time, especially someone who was maltreated," Natasha replies, having spent more time with you over the last couple of weeks, still delivering your food but also trying to get you to talk more, expressing how you weren't going to be hurt here.
"You have taken a liking to her," he says, a little out of nowhere, catching the redhead by surprise. "You would have made your assessment by now but you seem to be waiting for something," her jaw clenches subtly, not liking how somehow this man was always able to have some sort of read on her. "What are you waiting for?"
"She wants to accept our offer," Natasha answers honestly, the man's smile sneaking onto his lips as his own plans were falling into place, the assassin unaware of his ideas. "She's just scared."
"Do you think she could be an Avenger?" He asks and she pauses for a moment, thinking carefully about his question. She could see that same glint in your eyes that she had when she was first rescued from the red room, that hopeful glint that you would be able to be more than what they made you, but at the same time the fear of betrayal hovering at the back of your mind.
"In time, yes," Fury moves to stand from his chair, moving to lean against the front of his desk while Natasha stands in front of him, her arms crossing over her chest as the man ponders for a moment.
"Why are you so sure about her?" Natasha watches the man's curious gaze, his hands resting against the wooden desk as the redhead responds to her boss.
"When Clint didn't take his shot against me in Budapest, he told me that he had this gut feeling about me, that I could be more than what they made me," Fury listens with interest at Natasha's words, remembering the mixed emotions he felt that day when Clint disobeyed his orders but helped saved what would soon become one of his most valuable agents. "I have this same feeling about her," she confesses and the man knows not to take this lightly, the Russian never letting her emotions affect her work, renowned for her professionalism.
The room lingers in silence for a moment, both figures letting the weight of the situation settle before Fury speaks up, a plan having formed in his head.
"Talk to the team about her being potentially recruited, see what they make of it," he says and Natasha is a bit suspicious as to why she was doing it, Fury normally taking the lead on these types of situations.
"What are you going to do?" she asks and he just chuckles at her scepticism.
"I'm going to talk her into accepting our offer," he says, the smile now visible on his lips as he sees the small one tugging at the redhead's lips, "See you soon Romanoff."
***
"He wants to do what?" Steve's tone laced with disbelief as he braces his arms on the kitchen island, having just finished making a smoothie after his morning run.
"He wants us to give her a chance," Natasha answers, the super soldier letting out a sigh before taking a large sip of his drink, the rest of the team gathered in various places around the common room, listening in to the conversation.
They were all up to date about you, brief knowledge of your past and known abilities being sent to them all in your file once you were brought back into the base and put in the glass cell. They knew you were powerful and loyal, so the question was would you be able to betray Hydra and trust them.
"Why should we do that? She's done nothing to prove she won't just try and kill us all," Steve says, still bitter about the pain in his side, multiple ribs having been broken during the last encounter with you, the moment where you almost decapitated him also being added to the list as to why he wasn't fond of you. "She's powerful and dangerous," he says, caution in his tone as he tries to get his point across, "She's also clearly not in control."
"She needs our help," Wanda cuts in, taking a few by surprise as she tended to stay quiet during conversations like this, only speaking once someone asked her opinion. "We can help her, that's what we do right? As Avengers?" Her words settle in a few, Natasha smiling at the brunette woman and nodding her head subtly in appreciation.
"I can't believe I'm going to say this," Tony says, finally speaking up which was unlike his character, normally first to voice his opinion in literally anything. "I agree partly with the old man," he says, earning a disapproving look from Steve at the nickname, "We can't be sure it's safe. Statistically, the chances of her losing control or hurting one of us is extremely high."
"See someone who agrees-" Steve tries to say, being cut off by the billionaire.
"I haven't finished Capsicle," he says, a mocking smile on his lip at the other nickname he called Steve who just glared at the man. "But since when has anything we have done been safe?"
"That's because of you Tony," Steve mutters, "You're the one who always puts us in these situations,"
"Last I recall, you were the one who wanted an ex-hydra brainwashed murderer to join our team, what's different about this one?" Steve's jaw visibly clenches at Tony's description of Bucky, the brown haired man making a valid point though. You were extremely similar to Bucky, if they could help him, why couldn't they help you?
"Bucky's different," he grits out, defending his best friend while everyone else in the room notices the tension rising in the atmosphere. "I know him."
"Knew," corrects Tony, "You knew him, Hydra changed him."
"This isn't about Bucky," Natasha cuts in, not wanting a proper fight to break out between the two, the billionaire lacking the care of stepping too far over the line, Steve being far too defensive about his friend. "Look at the facts, yes she's hydra but how many of us here have a past we want to forget, we want to put behind us? She's no different to some of you when you first joined, so why should we put that against her?"
Everyone listens as Natasha takes control of the room, Clint hiding a smile at his best friend and noticing this was her moment with you. She wasn't taking her shot with you just as he did her.
"As Steve said, she's powerful, we need that if we want to stop Hydra and any other threats."
"Since when did you do the speeches Romanoff," teases Tony, already making his mind up about his stance on your potential recruitment to the team. "How about we have a vote?" he says, using his typical cocky voice to get the other's opinion, "Who thinks Y/n should join?"
In his usual manner, Tony playfully raises his arm, making a show of himself before looking around the room to see who else agrees. Wanda raises her arm up shyly, Natasha doing so more confidently, just not as dramatically as the billionaire, Clint also raising his hand up as he trusts Natasha's gut feeling about you, the rest of those in the room, being Steve, Bruce and Vision, Sam and Thor currently not available, keeping theirs down.
Steve goes to protest, but the sounds of footsteps can be heard, interrupting the conversation.
"Well, I'm glad the vote went in our favour," Fury says as he strides into the room with authority, the room going quiet as they see you standing by his side, face stoic to mask your nerves.
Everything was so loud, the electricity buzzing around the room, the tv playing in the corner, the sounds of fists clenching, bodies tensing, hearts starting to race, it was all too loud. It was overwhelming. Steve's heart in particular started to pound against his rib cage, the memories of your last encounter causing him to be tense and on edge, your gaze meeting his blue for a split second before flickering away.
They think we're a monster. They're scared and they should be.
Taunts the darkness, your mask slipping for a second, showing a brief sense of doubt behind your eyes before your face returns to being stoic, mind fighting the gnawing corruption and forcing it to be silent.
"Meet Y/n, your new teammate," Fury says nonchalantly but also in a tone that leaves no room for argument, a few shocked faces as Natasha said potential teammate, not someone who would be joining instantly.
"Fury..." Steve's voice dies out with the glare sent his way, your eyes fixated on the view out of the window, everything else seeming to fade away.
 The compound overlooked acres and acres of field and forest, the sun gently shining down onto the grass causing it to look vibrant, the simple sight of nature almost a phenomenon to you. Too busy staring out of the window, you miss the small smile that creeps up on Natasha's face, Fury going to have a private word with a few of the team while you slowly made your way towards the windows.
You could feel a few people staring at you, your mind trying to stop the racing thoughts and focus on calming down, not wanting to have some sort of panic attack from all the attention on you. You had to block out the incessant heartbeats, the signs of their fear and tried to focus on the steady one nearby. Only once you turned your head did you realise that it was Natasha who was calm, casually walking up to you as you turned your head back to admire the view.
"It's beautiful," you whisper, not used to having such a clear view of outside your surroundings. You were used to concrete walls surrounding you, or even glass ones in a secure room, not the large windows that practically filled the entire wall, displaying the wonders of the outside world.
"It is," she murmurs back, turning her gaze from you to back outside. The others watched from the distance as you two stood near the window, Natasha talking to you while you made sure to memorise every detail you possibly could about the view. "What made you accept the offer?" she asks, curious as to what Fury must have said to you to get you to finally accept it, her emerald eyes scanning over your relaxing features.
Before you can reply, the sound of Steve's voice becoming louder interrupts the moment, Fury's stare hardening at the super soldier.
"This is going to go wrong, it isn't the right move," he says in warning before grabbing his smoothie and leaving the room, shaking his head as he enters the elevator, "I thought we did things as a team Fury, made decisions together."
"You did and you were outvoted," Fury replies and Steve just scoffs at the idea they were using a random voting method to decide your place on the team. He doesn't bother arguing back, letting the doors shut, Fury dismissing everyone and asking for you to join him in the kitchen, away from everyone.
"Remember our deal," he says, tone serious as he addresses you, "Any indication that you're not being honest with us, and you're straight back in a cell, don't make me have to do that Soldier." You nod in understanding, eyes flickering over to a glass on the table, your reflection staring back at you.
What have you done? This was a trap.
Get us out now. If you don't do it, I will. I won't be merciful.
The darkness claws at your mind, your stare going blank for a second as Fury continues to talk to you. The man notices how you seem to grow distant for a second, blinking before returning your attention towards him.
"I will leave you to adjust to everything," he says, catching the nervousness in your eyes and assuming it was from the new environment, not your broken mind. He knows it will be hard to adjust, but he has faith in the rest of the team to help you, especially after the talk he just gave them.
With Fury gone, you're left to sit alone, basking in your thoughts as Natasha holds back with Wanda, watching how the witch seems to be able to hear some of your thoughts while also keeping an eye on you, reading your body language.
Your leg bounces steadily, fingers gripping the glass a little too tight, her brows furrowing at how anxious you seem, never having showed signs like this when you were with her in the cell.
They're always going to be scared of the Soldat.
They sneer, your fingers loosening around the glass as you can feel it straining, about to shatter, the darkness laughing at the close call of losing control already.
You're going to snap. Lose control. This will all be for nothing because I will get out. I will get out and do what needs to be done.
You remain quiet, not in the position to be able to snap back at the darkness, letting them taunt and tease you, trying to get you to lose your composure. You had to learn how to deal with them, how to keep them under control, otherwise they were right. You would snap.
I can't wait to watch the life drain from their eyes, to watch them suffer.
Your jaw clenches painfully, their words purposely trying to rile you up, to prove Steve right that you were dangerous, but you don't react as Natasha comes to sit next to you. She sees straight through the small smile you send her way, Wanda having quietly told her that your static-like mind was growing louder and you needed some sort of distraction, and decides to inform you of the plan for the rest of the day, Fury having told her before he left.
"You've got a busy day ahead of you," she teases softly, emerald eyes matching her tone as she watches you fight yourself internally, your gaze eventually turning to meet her gentle one. "I'll show you around the compound first, then it's medical tests quickly and then showcasing your skills so we have a better understanding of your abilities, is that alright?"
"Medicals?" you say, hesitation evident in your eyes, Natasha's gaze going to your fingers , how they subconsciously trace your veins where you were most likely tested on before.
You can remember the agony you felt from all the injections they forced into you, the searing pain that felt like it was burning you from the insides, test after test, torture after torture, you didn't want to go through that again.
"We just check your vitals to make sure you're healthy," she explains, still watching how your fingers moved to trace a scar instead, your mind still processing something.
"Would I be alone?"
"I'll be there with you," her tone reassuring, the redhead noticing how you visibly relax, hands dropping to your sides to rest. "Now come on, we've got an entire compound to go around," she says with a playful smile, standing up from the chair and motioning for you to follow her, ready to give you a tour of hopefully your new home. 
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genshinluvr · 2 days
Text
The Traveling Artist's Ailment
Pairings: Zhongli x fem!reader x Neuvillette
Summary: As a renowned traveling artist from Mondstadt, you travel the world to paint and draw various things. Your lovers, Zhongli and Neuvillette, are supportive of your dreams of becoming a traveling artist. However, during one of your work trips to Sumeru, you stumble across a sickly floating anemo fungus (well, technically, it came to you). You nursed the floating anemo fungus back to health, only to fall ill yourself.
Note: One of my followers and close friends commissioned this fanfic! To read her commissioned version, I will link it at the very end of this fanfic. This is the longest fanfic I have typed out ever since I came out of my hiatus. I hope my friend likes her commission (she has read most of it so far but hasn't read the newer parts I have added). Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).
Warnings: None that I know of 🤔 However, since this is a commissioned fic, there will be some things that trace back to the commissioner— there will be she/her/hers pronouns used throughout this fic when referring to the reader.
Word Count: 6.8k
Sumeru, the nation ruled by the God of Wisdom. The scenery is beautiful— everywhere you look is a land of luscious greenery. You stand in front of the statue of the seven in the Avidya Forest, admiring the view before you. As a traveling artist, you have the privilege of witnessing the beautiful scenery of every nation in Teyvat. 
๋࣭ ⭑⚝ ᨐฅ ๋࣭ ⭑⚝
When you first began your career as a renowned traveling artist, you started in your home nation—the beautiful nation ruled by the Anemo Archon Barbatos. Before becoming a traveling artist, you weren’t satisfied with your career. And as cheesy as it sounds, you wanted to find your purpose, and the only thing that kept you going was your love for drawing and traveling. 
“You’re incredibly talented. Have you thought of becoming a traveling artist?” Albedo asked, analyzing the canvas while stroking his chin.
You pressed your lips into a thin line, mimicking Albedo’s actions. “I’ll have to be honest with you, Albedo. I have not! And even if I did, I don’t think a certain someone would approve of my ambitions.”
Albedo raised his eyebrows. “Oh? Are you implying that your boyfriends will not approve of your goals?”
Your face becomes hot at the mention of your, ahem, “boyfriends.” You wouldn’t say that you, Zhongli, and Neuvillette were dating per se, but you wouldn’t say that you three weren’t seeing each other romantically. You would often travel to Liyue and Fontaine to visit the men on separate occasions. Sometimes, when they had the chance, Zhongli and Neuvillette would visit Mondstadt to spend time with you. There were lingering touches and longing stares thrown around, but anything above that had yet to happen. Wait, what was Albedo saying again? Oh, right!
You cleared your throat, looking back at the canvas. “It’s not like they’ll disapprove of my choice of wanting to become a traveling artist. They worry, Albedo. And can you blame them?” You muttered, finishing up your painting of the Stormterror’s Lair. 
The day you sat down with Neuvillette and Zhongli to talk about your decision to become a traveling artist, you three were sitting outside Good Hunter in Mondstadt. You sat between the two men, eating your food. Children were laughing and running around the area while the adults were going on with their day, enjoying the simple life in Mondstadt.
“Dear, are you alright? You seem distracted,” Neuvillette said, breaking you out of your daydream.
You didn’t realize you were poking at your Sticky Honey Roast until Neuvillette brought you out of your thoughts. You nodded, giving Neuvillette a reassuring smile before proceeding to eat your lunch. While you weren’t looking, Neuvillette and Zhongli looked at one another, not saying a word. 
Zhongli cleared his throat, placing his hand over yours. “Are you sure you’re alright? If there’s anything you want to talk about with us, you’re always welcome to,” Zhongli murmured, gazing at you with his warm amber eyes.
You placed your fork on the plate and took a deep breath. “I am thinking of becoming a traveling artist. What do you two think?” You looked at Neuvillette and Zhongli anxiously, worried they were going to discourage you from pursuing such a career. 
Zhongli’s eyes lit up, the corners of his lips curving up. “Oh, I think that would be a lovely idea. I believe in doing things you love, and you are an incredibly talented artist.” Zhongli took a sip of his drink. I don’t see why not.”
After hearing Zhongli’s approval, your eyes lit up with excitement and hope. You turned to Neuvillette only to see the hesitation on his face. Neuvillette didn’t seem to agree with Zhongli. Neuvillette had always encouraged you to do what you love, but with this new career path, the Iudex was rather hesitant about the idea.
You blinked, reaching for Neuvillette’s hand, and gently squeezed it. “Neuvillette, are you alright?”
Neuvillette lets out a long exhale before meeting your gaze, smiling weakly. “[Y/N], dear, as much as I would love to see you pursue your dreams of becoming a traveling artist…” Neuvillette trails off, sighing again, “I can’t help but worry about your safety and the potential dangers of you getting into while you’re traveling alone.”
You couldn’t help but feel offended but also giddy over the fact that the oh-so-powerful Iudex of Fontaine worrying over little ole you. You couldn’t help but giggle, tucking your hair behind your ears while blushing madly. Neuvillette gazed at you, confused. You could hear Zhongli chuckling behind you while proceeding to finish his lunch.
You cleared your throat and placed both hands over Neuvillette’s. “Neuvi, I understand where you’re coming from, and,” you paused to squeal, reaching up to pinch his cheeks, “I would be much happier as a traveling artist than my current career path. Not only do I get to travel the world, but that means I can visit you and Zhongli more often!”
Neuvillette mulled over the idea of you getting the chance to visit Fontaine and Liyue more often and longer than in the past. Right as you were about to take a bite of the Sticky Honey Roast, a thin arm wrapped around your shoulders startled you and caused you to drop the metal fork. Zhongli and Neuvillette’s heads snapped in your direction to see the familiar bumbling drunkard draped over you. 
Zhongli scoffed, his nose wrinkled with disgust after catching a whiff of alcohol from the Anemo Archon. “Venti, please refrain from touching [Y/N] without her consent,” Zhongli said, narrowing his eyes at the bard.
Venti giggled and released you. “Hey, blockhead— I mean Zhongli and…” Venti froze when his eyes locked with Neuvillette. “O-Oh! It’s you!” Venti squeaked.
Neuvillette smiled at Venti before sipping water from his chalice and placing it on the table. “Greetings, Venti. I see that you are acquaintances with my beloved [Y/N].” 
Zhongli furrowed his eyebrows at Neuvillette’s comment and cleared his throat, “Our beloved [Y/N]. What am I? Chopped liver?” Zhongli rolled his eyes.
Neuvillette ignored Zhongli’s comment, proceeding to stare down the Anemo Archon. Venti cleared his throat before walking around the table to face the three of you. The bard propped his hands on his hips. You, Neuvillette, and Zhongli stared back at Venti, unsure what he had in mind.��
Venti sniffed dramatically, wiping away nonexistent tears with his index finger. “Oh, [Y/N]! Hearing your departure from Mondstadt breaks my heart. But hearing your love for the arts and wanting to share your exquisite talents with the world is inspiring!” Venti said dramatically, his lyre materializing in his hands, and he started to strum the instrument. “I would like to dedicate this song to you~!” Venti winked at you.
While Venti was serenading the three of you, Neuvillette mulled over the idea of you traveling the world and sharing your talent with people from every nation on Teyvat. 
Neuvillette turned to you, whispering into your ears, “If that is what you wish to pursue, then I shall not intervene with your desires. As long as you are safe and happy, that is all that matters to me.”
Your eyes lit up once again. “Really!?” You squeaked, gazing at Neuvillette with stars in your eyes.
Neuvillette’s cheeks slowly turned pink the longer you stared at him with awe and happiness. The Iudex cleared his throat, nodding. You squealed and threw yourself at your beloved Neuvillette, arms wrapped around his shoulders while pressing your cheek against his. Zhongli chuckled, shaking his head as he continued to listen to Venti sing, admiring you and Neuvillette from his seat.
You turned to Zhongli and beckoned him over. Zhongli hesitated for a moment, only to give in when you gave him puppy-dog eyes. Who could say no to that sweet face of yours? Zhongli stood from his seat and walked over to where you and Neuvillette were sitting before leaning over to wrap his arms around you and Neuvillette. Zhongli made sure to kiss the side of your head, ignoring the stares shot in your direction.
๋࣭ ⭑⚝ ᨐฅ ๋࣭ ⭑⚝
“Sumeru is so beautiful,” You whisper, setting down your art supplies. You have been traveling for a few months now, and you’re loving every bit of it! You met so many nice people, and many people have commissioned you to paint certain landscapes from other regions! Your being in Sumeru is for your customer’s commission, and you cannot wait for them to receive the painting soon.
Usually, you would travel to your customer to personally deliver their commission. However, this time is different because your customer will be picking up their commission in Sumeru. After all, according to them, they will be on a work trip to Sumeru in a few weeks. When it comes to your paintings, it doesn’t take you long to complete them. You work quite fast on your paintings, and that is what your customers love about working with you— you get things done in a timely manner, or you complete the commission way before the deadline. 
You scan your surroundings, trying to find the perfect image to capture onto your canvas. The customer was quite vague with what they wanted you to paint. The only instruction that was given to you was to paint a scenery in Sumeru. Did you ask them to clarify for you? Yes, you did! However, this person didn’t have an idea in mind.
“You have free range, Miss Renowned Artist! I would like for it to be a surprise! Any scenery will do as long as it’s in Sumeru!” The customer said, smiling smugly as if they were doing you a huge favor. 
You exhale and scratch your head. “This is going to be more complicated than I thought,” You mutter.
Sumeru has a lot to offer, and it is hard for an artist like yourself to capture a specific landscape onto one canvas. You see, you want to capture the current landscape before you, but at the same time, you also want to capture the breathtaking deserts of Sumeru. You pull out a single Mora from your bag, choosing to do heads or tails to make the decision for you. Easy, right? You’re indecisive, so the Mora will pick what you paint for your customer! Before flipping the Mora, you make sure to mark one side of the Mora with white paint because both sides have the same engraving.
The side with white paint will be the desert (heads), while the side without paint will be the current luscious green landscape before you (tails).
You place the Mora between your thumb and index finger with the side with white paint facing upward. Using your thumb, you flick the Mora in the air before catching it and placing it on the back of your other hand without revealing the results. When you move your hand, you see the decision the Mora has made.
The side of the Mora facing upward isn’t marked with white paint; therefore, you will be painting the luscious green landscape! You wipe the white paint off the other side of the Mora before tossing it back into your bag. You pull out the canvas and place it on the easel before digging into your bag for your palette, paints, and brushes. 
Once you have set up your materials, you start sketching out the landscape with a pencil. You hum softly, engrossed in your work, as you listen to the birds sing around you. It’s relatively cloudy today in Sumeru; it’s not too hot or too cold, and the weather is just right. You peek from your canvas to double-check to make sure everything is in the correct spot, and nothing is missing.
After an hour passes by, your sketch of the landscape is completed, and you can now start painting the beautiful scenery after your lunch break. In the medium-sized container, you pack rice with Honey Char Siu on top, and in the smaller container, it contains seven rainbow macarons. 
Every time when you go on your trip, you make sure to pack food that reminds you of your beloveds on the first day of your arrival to a new nation. From then on, you will eat food from the nation you’re currently visiting. There’s no easy way to contact Zhongli and Neuvillette while you’re traveling the world, so the only way for you to feel connected to the two men is through food that you pack for yourself! 
Being a traveling artist does get lonely from time to time. You have no one to talk to aside from locals in that region, but it’s nice to have some alone time. You enjoy the peace and quiet, but you love being able to interact with those around you. Your wanderlust drives you insane. What can you do about it? You choose to become a traveling artist to be able to do what you love: traveling and showing the world your amazing art skills. 
“Your gift needs to be shared with the world, [Y/N]. I’m baffled that you’re not a renowned artist yet. If you want a head start in your career, you can always let me know, and I will gladly help you make your dreams come true.” Zhongli’s words echo in your head as you happily munch on your lunch. 
You couldn’t help but tear up at the thought of how incredibly supportive both Zhongli and Neuvillette are. Growing up, you didn’t have much of a support system in your life, but as you grew older, you ended up meeting amazing people who loved and supported you. You’re grateful for everyone in your life, and you will make them proud as you continue to work hard as a traveling artist. 
After finishing your lunch, you immediately start on your customer’s commission. You mix a few paints to create a specific color for the sky as the sun is peeking from the cloudy skies. Each brush stroke brings the canvas to life, almost as if you used a Kamera instead of paints to create the masterpiece before you. 
Just as you’re a little over halfway done with the painting, you hear something strange coming from behind you. You freeze in your spot, hoping that it’s not a vicious creature behind you, planning on making you its dinner. You slowly turn your head to see something you weren’t expecting. The small creature looks sickly, struggling to stay afloat, only to tumble to the ground. You can’t help but pity the poor thing.
You continue to watch the floating (well, not anymore) anemo fungus waddle and stumble in your direction. Judging by its appearance, it’s most likely ill. You place your paintbrush and palette on the ground before cautiously walking towards the sickly floating anemo fungus. You kneel and hold your hands out, catching the anemo fungus before it can fall on its face. 
You cradle it in your arms and wince when it lets out a small sneeze. Well, small is an understatement. When the anemo fungus sneezed, it let out a strong gust of wind, causing the items around you to rattle in their spot. You chuckle and take your apron off, laying it on the rock nearby.
The floating anemo fungus shivers in your arms, sniffling here and there, and its eyes are glazed over. You’re unsure whether there is a doctor that specializes in caring for mystical beasts such as this anemo fungus. You glance at your unfinished painting, unsure whether you should temporarily abandon your painting to care for the sick floating anemo fungus or proceed as usual before caring for the creature. 
“Hold on, little guy. Let me finish this painting, and then I’ll get you some help,” you coo to the floating anemo fungus.
You walk to where your apron lies and place the floating anemo fungus on the rock before draping it with your jacket. It won’t do much, but it will provide some warmth for the poor creature. You pick up your paintbrush and palette, continuing where you left off with the customer’s commission. 
๋࣭ ⭑⚝ ᨐฅ ๋࣭ ⭑⚝
A few days into your trip to Sumeru as a traveling artist, you end up renting out a quaint home in Gandharva Ville close to your painting site. Initially, you did plan on staying in Sumeru City during your stay, but due to some unforeseeable circumstances, you decided to remain in Gandharva Ville for the remainder of your trip.
Your customer’s commission is about ninety-eight percent completed, and since you’re almost done with the painting, you decide to take a few days off to nurse the floating anemo fungus back to health.
Needless to say, caring for a sick fungus is more complicated than you expected it to be. You’re never sure what to feed the fungus, aside from giving it plenty of water to drink. Are Liyuen dishes too spicy? Would Fontainian food be too bland for it? What about Sumeru dishes? There are many times when you question your sanity because you don’t have someone to consult about this issue. You were on your own.
Did you consult specialists or scientists about this issue? No, you did not because they would not take you seriously because why would you care about a creature that wreaks havoc on civilization if it gets the chance?
After the fifth day of being in Sumeru (and nursing the poor floating anemo fungus back to health), you wake up feeling horrendous. Your head is pounding, one nostril is stuffed while the other is runny, your entire body feels incredibly hot, and your throat feels swollen. Dear Barbatos, is it possible that the floating anemo fungus passed its sickness onto you? Despite feeling like a mitachurl has whacked you with its wooden shield, you continue to push on and finish the commission. After all, you do have to meet with your customer in Sumeru City in a few hours.
Standing at the site, you put the finishing touches on the painting while trying to act like you’re fine and healthy. The floating anemo fungus hangs out beside you, happily floating while looking as healthy as ever. 
“And we’re done!” You sigh in relief, clearing your throat and putting your paintbrush on the palette. 
You take a step back and admire your now-completed artwork. The floating anemo fungus squeaks with joy and twirls around. You gently pet the creature, watching it nuzzle into the palm of your hand. Just when you assumed you were going to spend time in Sumeru alone, a (formerly) sickly little fungus ended up keeping you company.
You smile and pet the floating anemo fungus, “Thank you for keeping me company, little guy.”
The floating anemo fungus squeaks with joy, nuzzling its face against yours as if it’s thanking you for nursing it back to health. As much as you’re hesitant to release the floating anemo fungus back into the wild, you have no other choice but to do so. You watch the floating anemo fungus slowly disappear off into the wild, your heart feeling heavy after realizing that you’re now alone.
You muster up the strength and start packing your things to return to the house you rented. At least you finally completed the commission and can relax in Sumeru before going to your next destination. However, you’re not sure when you can set off on your next journey due to your sickness.
After dropping your items off at your temporary home, you set off to Sumeru City to meet with your customer. The city is bustling, and the smell of delicious Sumeru dishes wafts in the air, making your stomach rumble with hunger. 
A voice brings you out of your thoughts, “Ah! Miss Renowned Artist!” 
You turn to see your customer waltzing towards you with guests behind them— their business partners, you presume? The customer’s eyes light up with excitement upon laying their eyes on the large canvas in your hands. 
“You have completed my commission, I see!” The customer states, standing before you with an expectant gaze. 
You smile, nodding. “Yes! I have completed your commission! Please let me know your thoughts on it!” You say, turning the canvas around for the customer to see. 
The customer, their business partners, and citizens of Sumeru passing by gasped in awe. The painting looked beautiful and breathtaking—not only breathtaking but very vivid. People around you started whispering and pointing at the painting. Some even pulled their Cameras out to snap a picture of you and the painting.
The customer places their right hand over their heart while covering their mouth with the other, “Miss [Y/N], this art piece is absolutely beautiful! You really outdone yourself!” The customer praises, eyes gleaming with joy. “Is it too soon to commission you again?” The customer giggles.
The people around you two chuckle as they continue to admire the painting in the customer’s hand. After a few minutes of admiring the painting, the customer pays you a handsome amount of Mora before walking off with their business partners. You place the bag of Mora in your travel-sized bag before walking to the nearest bench in Sumeru City, sighing. Archons above, you feel so exhausted, and you have a long way back to your rented house on the outskirts of the city. You don’t know how much longer you can handle this. 
“[Y/N]! Is that you!?” A high-pitched voice pulls you out of your inner turmoil.
You look up to see Aether and Paimon approach you. The white-haired floating girl waves her hands at you ecstatically while barreling in your direction. Before she can smack you in the face with her entire body, Aether quickly grabs her by her clothes and holds her back— Paimon squirms in Aether’s hands, huffing and protesting.
Aether shakes his head, smiling at you apologetically. “Sorry, [Y/N]. Paimon’s just excited to see you again after not seeing you in months.”
You smile at Aether and Paimon, standing up from the bench while dusting your clothes off. “There’s no need to apologize, Aether! I’m happy to see you both again!” You say, ignoring the shivers going down your spine.
Aether releases Paimon, and she immediately hugs your face, resting her cheek on your head while petting your hair happily. “It’s good to see you again, [Y/N]! How’s the life of being a traveling artist?”
You laugh and pat the top of her head, watching Aether pull Paimon off you with another apologetic smile. “It’s great! I get to do what I love: travel the world, paint, and draw. I get to visit Liyue and Fontaine much longer compared to when I was still working at my previous job.”
You start to recount your traveling experiences as a traveling artist to Aether and Paimon. You tell them about your commissions, answer their questions regarding your career as a traveling artist, and more. While the three of you are catching up, a huge wave of dizziness hits you like a mitachurl. You clutch your head and close your eyes, your body breaking into cold sweat as you shiver under the warm sunlight. Aether places his hand on your shoulders, steadying you. 
Paimon hovers in front of you, looking at you worriedly. “Are you okay, [Y/N]? Paimon’s worried about you.”
You crack your eyes open and smile at her. “I’m not feeling well, actually,” you reply. You tell Aether and Paimon the gist of what caused you to fall ill ever since you step foot into Sumeru: a sickly floating anemo fungus coming to you for help, you putting your customer’s commission to the side to nurse the fungus back to health, and here you are. Sick. The sickness isn’t anything deadly (you hope), but you’re in desperate need of rest, or else you will collapse, and the trip to Sumeru will last longer than you planned. 
Paimon tugs on your shirt, ushering you to stand up. “We gotta take you back to your rented house! You need to rest!”
Aether wraps his arms around your waist and has you wrap your arm around his shoulders as he walks you out of Sumeru City. Your legs feel like jelly, making it nearly impossible for you to take more than twenty steps. Aether ends up giving you a piggyback ride back to the house you rented in Gandharva Ville, with Paimon occasionally making sure you’re still alive and breathing.
One minute, you’re on Aether’s back, being carried back to your rental house; the next, you find yourself lying on the bed with Paimon and Aether’s face hovering over yours. The two stare down at you worriedly, wondering what’s the next step.
Paimon snaps her fingers when an idea pops into her head. “We should contact Mister Zhongli and Monsieur Neuvillette to inform them of their lover’s ailment!”
Before Aether can do that, you sit up and quickly grab Aether’s wrist, startling both outlanders. You shake your head, looking at them pleadingly. Neuvillette and Zhongli cannot see you like this! Sure, you never hide things from the two people you hold near and dear to your heart, but you don’t want them to worry about you! Besides, it’s not like you’re dying! What you have is most likely a minor cold and should pass within a few days. Right?
Aether lets out a shaky sigh, gently pushing you back to lie on the bed. “Okay, okay! I won’t tell Mister Zhongli and Monsieur Neuvillette about your sickness.”
You sigh in relief, feeling the tension leaving your body after hearing Aether’s promise not to tell Neuvillette and Zhongli about your situation. Despite never hiding anything from the two men you care deeply about, this is the only time you will hide something from them. Not because you don’t trust them but because you don’t want them to see this as an opportunity to pull you away from this career path. While they may not do that, you’re worried they’re going to try to coax you out of this career. Aether and Paimon exit the room after tucking you into bed; they close the door and trade looks.
“We are going to tell Mister Zhongli and Monsieur Neuvillette about this, right? We can’t hide this from them!” Paimon loudly whispers.
Aether runs his hands through his hair, shrugging. “I guess we’ll try to nurse [Y/N] back to health ourselves and see from there. If they don’t improve within two days, we’ll have to inform both of them about [Y/N]’s situation.”
๋࣭ ⭑⚝ ᨐฅ ๋࣭ ⭑⚝
A day has passed, and there aren’t any signs that you are getting better. In fact, it seems like you have gotten worse than the day before. Your temperature is worse than before; you’re barely eating, barely awake, and sweating through your clothes, but your hands feel ice cold. Paimon flies to your bed and switches out the wet rag on your forehead with another cold, damp towel. You shudder in your sleep, sighing with contentment when the cool rag touches your scorching hot forehead.
“How is she doing?” Aether asks, peeking into the room.
Paimon shakes her head, her shoulders slumping. “If her illness persists, we’re going to have to take her to see a doctor.”
Thunder cracks outside, startling both Aether and Paimon. Aether peeks from behind the curtains to see rain pouring down outside. If it rained any harder, Sumeru might as well be underwater. Great. Even if Aether were to take you to the doctor, there’s no way he would be able to get you there without you getting soaked.
The rain will worsen your illness, and who knows what will happen? The thunder cracking in the distance and the pouring rain are loud enough to drown out Aether and Paimon’s racing thoughts, but it’s not loud enough to drown out the sound of panicked knocks at the front door of the rental house. 
Aether and Paimon freeze, looking over in your direction. You barely react to the sounds around you— too exhausted and ill to have the energy to react. Paimon nudges Aether towards the door, gesturing to Aether to check to see who’s at the door knocking like a madman. Aether puts on a brave face and marches toward the front door. 
The knocking persists, and there seems to be another person assisting the person who knocked the first time. Great, more than one person to deal with! It’s not the person who rented the house out to you, is it? Archons, Aether sure hope it isn’t. Aether grabs the door handle and swings the door open to face the guests head-on. 
Aether clears his throat, “Can I help you— Oh, Archons.” Aether feels his heart drop into the pit of his stomach.
“Where is she?” Neuvillette demands, glaring down at Aether as raindrops pelt him.
Zhongli doesn’t look too pleased either, soaked to the bone. Aether gulps and takes a step back to let Zhongli and Neuvillette enter the rental house. How the hell did Neuvillette and Zhongli find this place? He and Paimon certainly didn’t inform the two refined men of your situation, so why are they here? 
Aether closes the door after Zhongli and Neuvillette step into the house. Aether clears his throat, watching the two men wring their clothes, creating a puddle beneath their feet. Aside from the cracking thunder and raindrops viciously pitter-patter on the roof, all Aether can hear is his heart drumming in his ears. 
“Aether? Who’s at the door?” Paimon calls out.
Aether, Neuvillette, and Zhongli turn to where Paimon’s voice comes from, only to see the white-haired girl floating out of a bedroom. Paimon shrieks upon laying her eyes on two draconic men standing at the entrance of the wooden house. 
Zhongli sighs, brushing his wet bangs from his forehead and crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s a pleasure to see you two again under this unpleasant circumstance,” Zhongli says, giving Aether and Paimon a fake smile.
Paimon floats over to where the three men are standing and scratches the back of her head. Paimon doesn’t remember informing anyone of your situation, nor does she remember if Aether informed the two intimidating men anything regarding your ailment. The floating girl looks at Aether, only to see him shrug his shoulders in response to her questioning stare.
Neuvillette’s eyes scan the quaint house and clear his throat. “Apologies for showing up unannounced and uninvited. However, Deus Auri and I had a bad feeling, and we had to show up,” Neuvillette said, adjusting his cravat.
“That doesn’t explain how you two are able to find the house [Y/N] rented out in Gandharva Ville,” Aether states, crossing his arms over his chest.
Zhongli and Neuvillette stare at Aether, not saying a word. The silence in the house is nearly unsettling but not as unsettling as the thunder continuously getting louder. Aether and Paimon are well aware that any form of precipitation ties to the Iudex’s emotions. The traveling duo isn’t sure if they should lead the two draconic men to where you’re sleeping or try to lie to the men that they got the wrong house and that you left for Natlan yesterday.
The deafening silence is broken by the sound of glass shattering in the next room. Everyone in the room freezes for a moment before running towards where the sound comes from. Neuvillette pushes the door open to see a glass pitcher in shards, and beside the pile of glass shards is you, lying on the ground, unconscious. Paimon shrieks, flying towards your unconscious body; she kneels beside your head and gently shakes you. 
Aether loudly whispers, “Paimon, let them get through.”
Paimon’s bottom lip quivers as she backs away from your unconscious body, watching Neuvillette and Zhongli kneel over you. Aether and Paimon quietly leave the room, knowing their presence will not be needed as of now. Neuvillette pulls you into his arms and cradles you, caressing your head while watching Zhongli clean the mess.
You let out a weak cough, body shivering when the cool air of the house fans your skin. Your skin is hot enough for Neuvillette to feel it through his coat. The storm outside worsens as he carries you to the bed, tucking you in. Zhongli pinches the bridge of his nose, wondering what to do next. 
Neuvillette continues to stare at you, assessing you from head to toe. “You briefly mentioned Doctor Baizhu while we were on our way to this rental house. Is there a way for you to get in contact with Doctor Baizhu regarding [Y/N]’s situation?”
Zhongli nods, now standing beside the Iudex. “Doctor Baizhu is enroute. He should be here very soon.”
Zhongli removes his gloves and places his hand over your forehead, letting out a long exhale. He slowly removes his hands from your forehead and glances at the discarded rag on the wooden nightstand. Zhongli excuses himself and leaves your and Neuvillette’s side for a moment before returning with a cool, wet rag. Zhongli brushes your hair to the side and places the rag on your forehead. The two men can see you visibly relax and sigh with contentment.
Neuvillette looks at Zhongli after the Liyuen man places his hand on Neuvillette’s shoulders. “[Y/N] is a strong woman. She’ll be okay. If [Y/N] can scare a mitachurl away, she can fight this illness.” Zhongli winces internally. Perhaps that’s not the best pep talk, but he’s trying his best to quell Neuvillette’s worries.
Neuvillette places his hand over Zhongli’s hand, giving them a gentle squeeze. “[Y/N] is something else. I just hope this illness passes by without causing any damage,” Neuvillette murmurs.
About an hour later, Doctor Baizhu arrives with his little helper, Qiqi. Neuvillette and Zhongli stand to the side to let the green-haired doctor treat you. Doctor Baizhu rouses you from your sleep for a check-up and medication. Qiqi sits beside you, letting you lean against her as the green-haired Doctor checks your vitals.
After your checkup, Doctor Baizhu hands Zhongli a bottle of medication. “Make sure [Y/N] takes her medications every six hours. Do not let her take it on an empty stomach, as it may cause nausea. I do not recommend traveling while in such conditions; she can start traveling within a week as long as her illness subsides.”
Neuvillette raises his hand. “If you don’t mind me asking, Doctor Baizhu, do you know when [Y/N] will regain consciousness?”
Doctor Baizhu pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and strokes his chin. “That, I do not know. I want you to remember, Mister Neuvillette, that [Y/N]’s symptoms are quite severe. She needs all of the rest she can get.”
If Neuvillette had ears, they would be drooping. Zhongli squeezes Neuvillette’s hands, giving him a reassuring smile. Qiqi waddles up to the two men, handing them a piece of paper. Zhongli blinks and unfolds the paper to see a list of items you’re allowed and not allowed to eat. 
Qiqi returns to your side and gently pats your head, saying, “Get well soon, [Y/N].”
Doctor Baizhu and Qiqi bid the two men farewell before exiting the rental house. Doctor Baizhu and Qiqi stop in their tracks. The green-haired Doctor chuckles and looks at Zhongli and Neuvillette, who look at them quizzically. 
“It looks like [Y/N] has a visitor,” Doctor Baizhu gestures to the floating anemo fungus.
The floating anemo fungus nervously floats towards Zhongli and Neuvillette, drenched in the rain. Zhongli and Neuvillette can’t tell whether the floating anemo fungus is shivering due to being soaked or because they intimidate the creature. 
After bidding Doctor Baizhu and Qiqi goodbye, Neuvillette and Zhongli close the front door. The shivering floating anemo fungus squeaks, looking at Zhongli and Neuvillette. Zhongli and Neuvillette return to your room with the floating anemo fungus close behind. When they open the door, the floating anemo fungus makes its way to your bed. 
It squeaks, gently nudging at your face. Zhongli steps forward, ready to snatch the floating anemo fungus away from you to prevent it from disturbing your very much-needed sleep, but Neuvillette stops Zhongli. The (now dry) floating anemo fungus makes its way under the blanket to snuggle up against you, providing comfort. Just when Zhongli and Neuvillette assume they’re going to be the ones to snuggle you as you sleep, a floating anemo fungus decides to take their spot instead.
๋࣭ ⭑⚝ ᨐฅ ๋࣭ ⭑⚝
The very next day, you wake up to be sandwiched between Zhongli and Neuvillette with the floating anemo fungus you nursed back to health lying on your chest. While you’re still sick, you are feeling much better compared to the day before. However, that doesn’t stop Zhongli and Neuvillette from being your temporary caretakers.
“Dearest, you must drink this ginger tea. It’ll soothe your sore throat,” Zhongli says, placing the cup of hot ginger tea in front of you.
You scrunch your face, hesitant to drink the tea Zhongli brewed for you. It’s not like you don’t appreciate Zhongli brewing tea for your sore throat! It’s the taste that you can’t handle! You have tried ginger tea in the past (yes, also brewed by Zhongli), and it ended up not being your cup of tea. 
“I don’t like the taste…” You mumble, hugging the floating anemo fungus to your chest.
Neuvillette sighs, sitting at the edge of the bed. “Would you like to drink warm water instead?”
Your eyes light up, immediately agreeing to drink warm water over ginger tea. Zhongli sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. You give Zhongli a sympathetic look and then at Neuvillette, who tucks your hair behind your ears. 
“I’ll drink both the warm water and ginger tea if it’ll make you two feel better,” you suggest.
Neuvillette shakes his head, “No, no. If you prefer to drink warm water to soothe your sore throat, then that is what you will be drinking. Do not force yourself to drink something you can’t stomach.”
Zhongli sighs in defeat. “Alright, if that is what you wish, I will make Bamboo Shoot Soup for you to eat.”
Neuvillette looks at Zhongli, confused. Before Zhongli can leave the room, Neuvillette gets up from the bed with his arms crossed over his chest. Zhongli raises his eyebrows at Neuvillette, who approaches him. You and the floating anemo fungus awkwardly sit there, watching Neuvillete and Zhongli have a stare-down. They’re not going to start arguing with each other, are they? You’re not in the mood to deal with any quarrels.
“I was going to make Consomme Purete for her to eat,” Neuvillette mutters to Zhongli.
Zhongli raises an eyebrow at the Chief Justice of Fontaine. “Oh? She’s going to be drinking warm water, as you have suggested. [Y/N] loves my signature dish, and I believe the soup will fill her stomach and give her plenty of nutrients.”
Neuvillette frowns. “Are you implying my Consomme Purete lacks nutrients and won’t fill her stomach?” Neuvillette props his hands on his hips.
Oh, dear Archons. 
“Neuvillette, that is not what I’m implying.”
“Oh, really? Then what are you implying then?”
Zhongli hands the paper over to Neuvillette. “I’m following Doctor Baizhu and Miss Qiqi’s orders. Miss Qiqi specifically said to feed [Y/N] food with plenty of nutrients.”
Neuvillette takes the paper but doesn’t read it. “You are still implying that my Consomme Purete doesn’t contain enough nutrients for her to eat.”
“Dear Archons.” Zhongli sighs, rubbing his temples.
You cough to grab their attention, only to cough up phlegm, nearly choking on it. Neuvillette and Zhongli are by your side almost immediately, making sure you’re okay and not choking on the phlegm. 
You slump in your spot and hug the floating anemo fungus to your chest, sighing. “I will eat both the Bamboo Shoot Soup and Consomme Purete. I haven’t been eating well, and I believe both of your dishes will not only fill up my appetite but also provide me with copious amounts of nutrients.”
Thankfully, that is something both Zhongli and Neuvillette end up agreeing on. You managed to finish the Bamboo Shoot Soup and Consomme Purete, making both your lovers proud and relieved. Zhongli makes sure you take your medication, and Neuvillette provides more warm water to drink with your medication. Your stomach didn’t churn when you took the medication, thankfully. 
By the time it’s nightfall, both Zhongli and Neuvillette are in their dragon forms, taking up all the space on the bed. Zhongli and Neuvillette are curled into a half circle with you between them. You close your eyes and rest your head on Zhongli’s body, feeling Zhongli and Neuvillette curling and wrapping around you. 
As you slowly doze off, you hug the floating anemo fungus tightly while Zhongli and Neuvillette each take turns pressing their nose against your head— kissing your head but in their dragon forms.
“Thank you three for being here.” You whisper, shivering.
Neuvillette flicks his tail, draping the blanket over your and their bodies before resting his head beside Zhongli. Zhongli and Neuvillette close their eyes, drifting off to the sound of your quiet snores.
Note: I had this commission delayed due to being busy with my university and other things happening in my life. I actually like how this fic turned out! While I was on hiatus, I had this mental drawing board for this commission and have changed a lot of things in this fic. I'm happy with the outcome of the fic itself. Tama/Kacie, if you see this, I hope you love this fic as much as I loved typing it out :) Anyway, To all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!
Link to the commissioned version: The Traveling Artist's Ailment (Commissioned Ver.)
Read more of my works on my Masterlist / Masterlist 2 / Short Fics and Others Masterlist | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^
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magniloquent-raven · 20 hours
Text
Day 4: Supportive Boyfriends
and for my next (LATE, SO LATE) @bucktommypositivityweek contribution. KITTEN FIC.
(read on ao3)
**
The 118 doesn't have a baby box.
In fact there aren't any in the state of California at all. Buck looked it up, after Maddie's postpartum episode. When half his family was missing and there wasn't much he could do besides wait and... think about things.
So he thought about safe haven laws. Read up on the training seminars for first responders who want to be better equipped to deal with hand-offs. Read a bunch of other stuff he sort of wishes he hadn't. Spent the next week haunted by articles about abandoned children.
He considered talking to Bobby about it. Only partly to ask him if they should get a box for the firehouse. Partly because Buck wasn't sure how he felt about the whole thing, and Bobby always seemed to have answers. But he never worked up the nerve to broach the subject.
And now. Bobby's not captain anymore, and Buck really can't imagine Gerrard giving a shit about any of this.
So, they don't have a box. But.
Well, this isn't a human baby. It's not like the same rules apply.
Buck has to wonder if wires got crossed somewhere, because. Someone left a kitten. Outside the firehouse.
Buck was just going to grab something—he can't remember what—from his Jeep, when he spotted an unlabelled cardboard box on the pavement, up against the side of the building. His first thought was bomb.
Until it meowed at him. A tiny, high-pitched peep of a meow.
Kind of scared the shit out of him, if he's being honest.
There's only one. All alone in the box. A poofy grey thing wriggling around half buried in an off-white towel. Like a very ambitious dust bunny with big round blue eyes and skinny legs. It wobbles slowly over a fold in the towel with all the effort of someone scaling a mountain.
Buck crouches next to the box, and pokes a finger inside.
"Hey, buddy," he murmurs, holding very still while the kitten inches towards his hand and squeaks. It's unclear whether there are teeth in that little maw. That means it's really young, right? Too young to be left alone for very long.
Shit, how is he going to explain this to Gerrard? He's still got, like, 12 hours left on his shift, but someone has to feed this thing. How long can kittens go without food?
Oh, it does have teeth. Really teeny ones. They're ineffectively poking his knuckle.
Buck fishes his phone out of his jacket—with the hand that isn't currently being drooled on—intending to go to Google for answers. How to figure out how old a kitten is. How often do kittens need to be fed. Do cats get separation anxiety. He has a million questions.
Only he doesn't pull up his browser. He calls Tommy.
It's a whim. Barely a seed of an idea. But when he unlocked his phone the first thing he saw was their text history (he'd been complaining about Gerrard off-and-on all morning, and Tommy had been sending random updates about all the chores he'd been getting done—his last message was a picture of a mop with no context) and he just thought... Tommy will know what to do. Not in so many words, more a feeling. Comfort and certainty, just from seeing Tommy's picture in a little bubble at the top of his screen.
"Evan?" Tommy answers almost immediately, and there's a subtle undercurrent of worry in his tone. Buck winces. Right, calling out of the blue while he's at work would look. Bad.
"I'm okay!" He says quickly, all in one breath. Then pauses. The kitten squints up at him, meowing again, long and loud. Its whole fluffy face scrunches with the effort.
"...What was that?"
"Uh. That would be why I called, actually."
Gerrard is less of an obstacle than Buck feared he'd be. Because he's holed up in his office doing paperwork when Buck sneaks in with the kitten, and Buck's decided he has no intention of letting him know the cat was ever here.
Tommy promised he'd come get her.
Buck didn't even really ask, and wasn't planning on asking. Didn't have any plan whatsoever, in fact. He just wanted to know if Tommy knew anything about taking care of kittens, and suddenly Tommy's voluntarily sacrificing the rest of his day off to scope out vets and pet supply stores and whatever else Buck's helpless little friend might need.
He hung up hours ago and his insides still feel warm and goopy about it. He can't stop thinking about the gentle fondness that softened Tommy's voice after Buck explained the situation. Buck would wrap himself up in it like a blanket if he could.
Tommy's getting so kissed when he shows up.
In the meantime, Buck's sitting upstairs, working his way through the dozen or so tabs he opened up after googling kitten care.
He thinks the one he found might be around three weeks old (ears not quite unfurled, can't sheathe claws yet, legs unsteady but mobile). And possibly a girl. She did not care for being picked up and turned over, and the indignant squirming made it difficult to tell what's going on down there. But he's almost certain he's right.
She was shrieking up a storm about it, and he was worried if he took any longer she'd alert Gerrard. (She didn't. She did, however, draw the attention of about half the firehouse.)
"You are disgustingly cute," Chimney coos, scratching under her chin with the tip of one finger. She's lifted her head as high as she can and her eyes are squinted happily. Buck can hear her purring from across the room. "Yes you are. Hen, can you get a picture of this?"
Hen pulls out her phone. "Sure... why?" She asks, leaning over his shoulder to snap a picture and eye him with mild suspicion.
"Jee. She'll wanna see when I tell her about my day."
Her expression softens to a smile. "I'll text it to you." She taps her screen a couple times. "Just had to make sure you weren't planning on calendar campaigning again."
Chimney grins. "Nah, my calendar days are behind me. The only person who gets shirtless pictures of me now is my wife."
"Gross," Buck says without conviction. He narrows his eyes at the site he's scrolling through, swiping away a Join Our Mailing List! popup. "You guys don't think she's cold do you? Are her ears warm? It's only, like, 70 today and we don't know how long she was out there."
Hen and Chim exchange glances, and then, disturbingly in sync, look from the cat to Buck. Chim gives her ear a perfunctory poke, which she does not appreciate as much as chin scritches, "She's fine, man."
Hen waves a hand at Buck when he opens his mouth again, "We're medical professionals. And in my medically professional opinion. She's fine."
"Okay, but—"
"Hey guys, look who stopped b—uhhh. Is that a cat?" Eddie slows to a stop at the top of the stairs, blinking at the kitten on the couch. "When did we get a cat?"
"Couple hours ago," Buck says, still frowning at Hen and Chimney. "Where have you been?"
"I found him polishing the engine."
Buck shoots out of his seat. "Tommy!"
He only half-hears Eddie muttering, "Favouritism," as he scuttles around the chair to meet Tommy halfway between the stairs and the sitting area. Tommy has just enough time to smile—and it warms Buck, like it always does, with a spark caught in his chest for safekeeping—and say hi before Buck's on him, palms clapped on either side of his face, smushing their lips together.
He makes a bit of a show of it, dramatically swooping in, because he knows the big smacking MWAH will make Tommy laugh, and he likes the way that feels rumbling against his chest.
Buck taps their noses together. "Hey," he says, savouring the mirth sparkling in Tommy's eyes for a second before kissing him again, properly this time.
His brain goes sort of fuzzy when Tommy's palm cups the back of his neck.
Someone in the distance wolf-whistles.
When they finally come up for air Tommy asks, "What was that for?" a little breathlessly, which is doing things to Buck.
"Mmn...y'know. For being you."
Tommy raises his eyebrows, kiss-reddened lips curling fondly. "Okay."
"Hey, Tommy. Good to see you," Chim calls in a very pointed way.
Right, public setting. Workplace. Friends watching. Buck exhales slowly, and tries to think about anything other than how much he wants to bite that bit of clavicle peeking out of the collar of Tommy's shirt. Like the fact that Tommy's hands are warm, and he's sort of rubbing his fingertips over the short stubbly bits of hair on the back of Buck's head, and Buck's lips are still tingling a little, and—no wait, not that either.
Tommy pulls away first, which is probably for the best, but also very sad. The corner of his mouth twitches like he can see Buck thinking it. He curls his index finger and gently taps Buck's chin with the knuckle before he turns to the group.
"Howie," he says, not even pretending to be contrite in the face of Chim's mock-judgement. "Hen."
"Tommy." Hen fails to contain her smirk.
Some time during all the kissing, Eddie moved over to the couch. He's sat next to the kitten, watching her attempt to groom her paw with all the grace of a toddler who's only a little bit sure they know how to hold a brush. She keeps starting and stopping at random intervals, sometimes licking the cushion beside her, sometimes sticking her tongue out at thin air.
She's so cute it makes Buck's chest hurt. It's a little much while he's still loopy from making out with his boyfriend.
Then Tommy goes and crouches next to the couch so he can get eye-level with the kitten while she sniffs his hand, talking to her all calm and soft with smile-lines crinkling his cheeks, and. Buck might need to lie down for a bit. Like, on top of Tommy, preferably.
The kitten seems to like him too, and he really can't blame her when she crawls up Tommy's sleeve to perch on his shoulder.
She looks so much smaller cuddled up on Tommy. He reaches up to steady her, and she's almost entirely obscured by his hand.
God, is it wrong that he's getting a little hot under the collar about that? He just looks so strong and competent and at the same time, like, gentle. Buck knows how it feels to be touched tenderly by those hands, and apparently just seeing it happen does not affect him any less. In fact it's only added dimensions to his desires.
"I should probably get going," Tommy says, bringing Buck back down to Earth with a resounding splat.
He opens his mouth to protest, then closes it. He's right. The last thing Buck wants is for Tommy to have another run-in with Gerrard, and they don't know how long the old bastard's gonna be occupied.
"Mhm, run while you still can," Chimney pipes up. "Before our dear old captain smells an opportunity to ruin someone's day."
"He does seem to have a sixth sense for that," Eddie adds sullenly. Buck makes a note to ask him what that was about. Later.
"I'll walk you out," Buck says, trying not to sound like a pouting child. He's fairly certain he fails, because Tommy laces their fingers together and gives his hand a comforting squeeze.
He says his goodbyes, the whole time being careful not to dislodge the kitten while she crawls across his shoulders.
Buck goes through the list of kitten care basics he memorized as they make their way to the parking lot. It's...more than he thought it was, honestly. It starts to feel overwhelming as he goes on, and on, and on. He's running out of time to get it all out, and he feels like it's just now sinking in his huge this responsibility that he's dumping in Tommy's lap is.
"You're sure you don't mind taking her?" The question bursts out of Buck before they make it to Tommy's car. "W-we didn't really, I mean. We talked about it over the phone, but..."
"Yeah, now that I've seen her she does seem like a real handful."
The kitten yawns, and curls up into a tiny grey ball in the crook of Tommy's neck.
Well. Alright.
"It's just, t-they need a lot of attention when they're that young, and I kinda just, just dropped this on you."
"Evan." Tommy gives him a look. "Are you worried that you baby-trapped me?"
Okay, when he puts it like that. Maybe a little bit. But also now he's having complicated yearning feelings that he really should not be having this early in the relationship.
Buck's pretty sure he looks like a deer in the headlights right now, because Tommy's doing his damnedest to pretend he isn't laughing at him.
He tugs Buck's hand, leading him the rest of the way to his car.
The backseat is full of cat stuff. Containers of milk-replacement powders, and a shiny plastic litter box, and toys, so many toys, baggies of fake mice and feathery things, just. So much stuff. Piles of it.
"I called up a friend who used to foster kittens. She had a lot of advice. And then I got a little carried away."
"I, uh. See that," Buck laughs breathlessly.
"Over the phone, you sounded like this meant a lot to you? And I think I got really attached to the idea of...this. Taking care of her for you. With you." He sounds hesitant, like he's trying not to say too much, and Buck can't stand it—
"I love you so much," he says in a rush.
"Well, good," Tommy purses his lips around a smile, eyes bright and crinkled at the corners. He reaches up to his shoulder, like he's absent-mindedly checking to see if the kitten's still there. "Wouldn't want her to grow up in a broken home."
Buck huffs a laugh.
"And I love you too."
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pinkponyclubbb3 · 1 day
Text
Casual part 2
summary: y/n and Chris haven’t talked since the incident a couple months ago. They run into each other at a party Chris hates how much y/n is messing around with people who are not him.
warnings: Drinking,Cussing, dry humping, degrading, praise, public (?) sex , spanking
check my bio if u wanna be tagged in future fics
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“Yeah, long as my bitches love me!” I sing to the mirror while I apply my blush. A lot has changed in the last couple of months. I realized I liked smoking and drinking.I cut Chris off, and with that, I haven’t talked to Nick or Matt. I still have a lot of love for them, but it’s hard to converse with someone who has the same face as my… ex. I’m not sure what to call him.
I get up and look through my closet. As i’m looking through my dress I find an all familiar looking hoodie. Fresh Love. I stare at it for a couple seconds and sigh. “Casual.” I scoff.
(flashback)
He takes off his shirt, leaving him in just his pajama pants, and gets into bed. He holds me in his arms and kisses my head. I hear him sigh, assuming he closed his eyes to sleep. His arms are wrapped around me, and I can’t help but think about everything that has happened. As I stare into space memories are flooding back. What am I doing? Letting him hold me and kiss me after what he told me earlier. “Chris.” I tap his arm. “Hmm” he whines. “Chris I want to go home.” I say with my eyes watering. Tears threatening to come out if I blink.
“What? Why?” He says in his tired voice. “You really hurt my feelings, Chris.” I’m avoiding eye contact so he doesn’t know i’m a blink away from crying. He sits up and sighs out of frustration. “What do you want from me, y/n?”
“I want you, Chris. How are you going to tell me everything we’ve done meant nothing to you?” He takes a deep breath as if he’s trying to stop himself from whatever was going to come out of his mouth. “I’ll tell Matt to take you home, he’ll pick you up to get your car in the morning.” That’s it? I stand up putting on a random hoodie and sweats. I stare at him waiting for a ‘just kidding’ or ‘i’m joking’ but it never comes. “I hate you.”
(end of flashback)
I ordered my Uber and put on my heels while I waited. I’m wearing a short, tight leopard print dress with knee-high heel boots. I look at myself in the mirror to make sure I look okay. I nod satisfied that everything came out good. I get a notification that my Uber is outside.
“For y/n?” I give him a smile and nod. Fuck he’s fine. I get in the backseat and buckle up. We don’t speak, but I catch him staring at me in the mirror. Sinful thoughts flood my mind. I squeeze my thighs together feeling how soaked i’m getting. Get it together y/n. I think to myself. “You headed to a party?” I nod “Yup.”
I look through my bag and pull out a mini vodka bottle. I twist the top and open my mouth to pour the liquid. He looks at me while biting back a smile. “You know I could get you in trouble for that?” I look at him and see he’s already looking at me through the review mirror. “Yeah? Wanna get me in trouble?” I ask him flirtatiously.
“Mhm. Want to teach you a lesson about drinking in strangers' cars.” I swipe my teeth with my tongue. “Come show me what happens to girls when they break the rules then.” He smirks at me and shakes his head. We’ve arrived at the party and I see cars filling up the parking spaces. He parks and unbuckles his seatbelt. I smile while biting my lip excited for what’s about to happen. He opens his door and joins me in the back.
“Wanna find out what happens to bad girls?” I bring my hand to his hair and start twisting it. “Mhm.” He sits me down on his thigh and grabs both my wrists, holding them behind my back. He smashes his lips on mine, desperate to taste me. He moves my hips, so I grind on his thigh, making me moan and giving his tongue access to my mouth. His jeans are pressing on my clothed clit. He guides my hips to start dry-humping his thigh. He takes the top of my dress and lowers it exposing my tits.
“So perfect.” He tightly grabs my left tit and slaps it. “Mm fuck.” I start grinding faster ready for any sort of release. “You like being slapped around?” I nod unable to give him a verbal answer. My head thrown back, my mouth opened and eyebrows furrowed. He opens his mouth while looking up at me taking my nipple into his mouth. Swirling his tongue around and biting down. Profanities leaving my mouth. The knot in my stomach starts forming letting me know how close I am. “Keep doing that I’m so close.” He grips my hips keeping me in place and stopping the friction.
“W-what?” He grips my hair, forcing me to look up. “You think bad girls get to cum?” I shake my head no. “Words,y/n,” he says. “No, they don’t get to cum.” He leans closer and starts kissing my neck. “Please let me finish .” He lets go of my hair so I can look at him. I grab his shoulders and start the rhythm again. “Please? I’ll be so good for you. Let me show you how bad I need you.” He starts sucking on my neck, assuming he is leaving hickeys.
I feel his hand grip my tits again. He uses his thumb to play with my nipple. It doesn’t take long for that feeling in my stomach to come back. “Such a good fucking girl getting off on my thigh.” I nod relentlessly getting closer to my orgasm. “Fuck i’m close.” He grips my hips making me go at a faster pace getting to my climax quicker.
I reach my orgasm and can’t help but chant profanities. My legs twitch as I finish feeling a little overstimulated. I let go of his shoulders and lay my head on his shoulder. “Fuck that felt so good.” I can feel his erection. I pull up my dress and get off his lap. He grabs my face and starts kissing me again. I reach into my bag and pull out another bottle. “Here let me get that.” he takes the bottle from me and opens it. “Open wide, princess.” I open my mouth as he pours it all into me.
“Such a good girl. Swallow for me, yeah?” I swallowed tightly, closing my eyes as I felt the drink burning my throat. “Thanks for getting me off. I’d love to continue, but I have a party to go to.” I tap his face and open the door. As I adjust my dress, I look up and meet eyes with the triplets. “Hi, guys!” I say casually. “What were you doing?” you mean who? I laugh at my joke but can’t say it aloud. “What? nothing just got dropped off from my uber.” As I say that the driver exits the back seat. Please don’t say anything I say to myself.
The boys look at me in disbelief. I see jealousy and anger in Chris’s eyes. “That was fun, mama. Maybe next time we’ll finish what we started, " he says, getting into the front seat and driving away. My eyes widen but I can’t help but laugh. “Who was that?” Chris asks angrily. I shrug my shoulders. “I’m not sure I never got his name.” I run to pull Matt and Nick into a hug. “My favorite triplets how are you!” I give them a kiss on the cheek. “We’re good i’ve missed you.” Nick says. Chris pulls me away from them. He signals his brothers to start walking inside.
“Pull your fucking dress down. I can see your thong.” My eyes widened, and I immediately pulled my dress down. “Were you fucking him?” God, I hate how beautiful he is. “And if I was?” I ask, challenging him. “I’ll fuckin’ kill him.” He looks so serious. I can’t tell if I’m scared or turned on. “What if I told you he got me off? Would that make you mad?” His jaw is clenched. He lifts my chin so I can’t look anywhere but his face. “Don’t test me, y/n.” I slap his hand away from my face. “Don’t be mad Chris. We were just casual remember?” I walk away from him and go inside.
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Body’s are grinding up against each other. It smells like a mix of weed, sweat, and alcohol. I’m past tipsy at this point. I haven’t talked to anyone all night, but I’m enjoying myself, so that’s all that matters. One of my favorite songs comes on and I leave the bar to go dance. I’d usually be embarrassed but I have too much alcohol in my system to care. I feel someone behind me. I turn around to meet eyes with a stranger. “I’m Dean.” I continue dancing. “Yeah I don’t care let’s just dance.”
he grabs my hips and so i’m basically grinding on him. Our body’s moving in sync as we move to the beat of the music. The lights are flashing. I look around and see everyone enjoying themselves. “Didn’t catch your name, sweetheart.” I roll my eyes. I don’t want to get to know him I just want to dance. “Didn’t throw it.” I find drunk me hilarious. I see Matt dancing with a random girl. He’s smiling while his bottom lip is tucked into his mouth. That girl is bent over dancing? Looks more like foreplay. Dean guides his hands all over my body.
I feel eyes on me. I look to my right and see Chris sitting at the bar, watching me like a hawk. I give him a wink and bring my attention back to Dean. I turn around to face him. Our faces are inches apart. He leans in to kiss me. He’s not bad-looking but doesn’t compare to the man in the Uber or … Chris. I hate how much I think about him. I give his tongue access to explore my mouth. I feel him bite my lower lip, and his hand is placed on my lower back. He pushes me closer to him to deepen the kiss.
I back up to go back to dancing. I regret that, I tell myself. This must be what post-nut clarity feels like. I look to my right again and see Chris chug his drink and slam the glass down. He gets up and walks over to me. “She’s taken.” Before I had the chance to protest, he starts dragging me off the dance floor. “What the fuck?” He doesn’t stop until we reach a bathroom. The bathroom has a red light instead of a normal one. He slams the door and locks it.
(A/n: if you can listen to music and read you should listen to ‘Bathroom by ‘Montell Fish’ for this scene)
I'm not sure what’s going to happen next, but a part of me can’t wait to find out. “So you’re just slutting yourself out tonight, huh?” I was taken aback, my eyebrows furrowed. “What I do is none of your business.” I poke his chest with my pointer finger. With a quick movement, he turns me around and bends me over the sink so I’m staring at him and myself in the mirror. He traces my ass with his fingers and smacks hard. “Fuck.”
“Such a bad, bad girl.” he taunts. Too speechless to say anything, I watch him through the mirror. I see him take off his belt while refusing to break eye contact. Once it’s out, he lifts my dress slowly. He folds his belt in his hands and taunts me with it. I hiss when the coldness of the leather makes contact with my ass. He takes his fingers and pulls my underwear to the side. “Spread your legs for me, princess.” I do what he says. He takes the leather in his hands and uses it to touch my wet pussy.
Once he finishes teasing me, he uses all his force to spank me with it. I grip the sink, shutting my eyes from the pain. “Fuck Chris!” I hear him laugh. He doesn’t give me a chance to recover before he hits me again. I throw my head back. A mix of pain and pleasure fills my body. “Does it hurt?” I look at him with tears swelling in my eyes.”mhm” He takes his fingers and inserts them into my folds. “Your body is telling me otherwise.” He turns me around to face him. He kneels down onto his knees. He doesn’t say a word and just flattens his tongue and licks my wet pussy. My eyes roll back and my hands grip harder on the sink
He takes the tip of his tongue to tease my clit. “O-oh my god-” he takes his two fingers and teases my entrance. He starts sucking on my clit while he inserts his fingers. My breath quickens when his fingers start fucking me at a fast pace. “Yes just like that, Chris.” I say in a whisper too overwhelmed by the pleasure. His fingers curl inside of me making me give pornographic moans. Chris's grin widens as he feels me getting closer and closer to the edge. He increases the pace, his fingers pumping in and out of me rapidly while his mouth sucks on my clit The room fills with my loud moans and the wet sounds of his fingers sliding in and out of me.
Chris pulls out his fingers, leaving me panting and desperate. He turns me around to face the mirror, pushing my hips against the sink and spreading my legs apart. He steps back and looks at our reflection, his eyes dark with desire. "Look at yourself," I don’t say anything. Trying to catch my breath. “Look at how ready you are for me..." He runs his hands down my back, grabbing my hips and positioning himself behind me. He lines himself up with my entrance, his eyes locked onto mine in the mirror. “Please Chris I need you so fucking bad.”
Chris grips my hips tightly and slowly pushes into me. His face contorts in pleasure as he buries himself to the hilt. He leans over me, his hot breath on my neck. "Eyes on the mirror," he growls, pulling back and thrusting into me again, harder this time. “F-fuck!” I can’t help but close my eyes, too overwhelmed with euphoria. I feel his hand tangle in my hair and pull my head back. “Eyes on the mirror,y/n. Look at us.” His voice low and demanding. I pry my eyes open trying my hardest not to break contact.
Chris grins, watching my reflection as he takes me rough and hard. His thrusts are deep and punishing, filling the room with the sound of slapping skin. His eyes flick down to where we’re joined, watching as he pulls out almost all the way before slamming back into me. “Chris!” I scream out. We’ve had sex before but it’s never been like this. “Tell me how much you hate me,y/n.” I shake my head no refusing to tell him. “Come on you had no problem telling me a couple months ago.” he taunts. “Tell me sweetheart I want to hear it.” He pulls my hair and he thrusts hard into me.
He grinds his hips into me, the movement drawing a low, guttural moan from my throat. "Say that you hate me, y/n." He can see the resistance in my eyes, but also the undeniable heat between my thighs. He leans closer, his breath hot against my ear. "You hate me...say it..." I nod giving in. “I hate you with everything in me, Chris.”
He grins darkly, his hand tightening in my hair as he pistons into me harder. "Louder," he demands. "I want to hear you scream that you hate me while I'm buried inside you.” He bites down on my neck, sucking hard as he continues to pound into me. “I- fucking hate you.” his other hand comes around and starts rubbing my clit. “Atta girl.” I start panting at the contact he’s making with my clit. “Look in the mirror… Look at how much you hate me.”
He watches our reflection his eyes dark with lust. I shut my eyes feeling my orgasm slowly approaching. “Don’t close your eyes.” He demands. “Watch us.” I force my eyes open again. He slams into me one last time, his fingers rubbing furiously against my clit as he buries himself deep inside me. “Chris! I’m cumming!” my body shaking and convulsing around him.
He pulls out of me and forces me on my knees. “Open wide, baby let me feel all of you.” He grips my hair as he guides me to his cock. He pushes himself into my mouth. His length filling me up. My eyes immediately watering as I look up at him. His pace quickens,his thrusts becoming shallower as he’s about to cum. His face contorts in pleasure as he comes undone. His grip in my hair tightens painfully. He watches me struggle to swallow his cum, tears in my eyes.
He pulls out of my mouth, breathing heavily while wiping my chin. His face hardens, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. He leans down and tilts my chin up, forcing me to look at him. "Say 'thank you, Chris, for letting me swallow'," he demands coldly. I can feel the wetness between my thighs build up again. “Thank you, Chris” I say quietly. His smirk widens and he nods approvingly. “Such a good girl.”
He helps me up and pulls my dress down. “Sorry for being so rough with you.” sorry? “I need to sleep with more men if it means you’ll fuck me like that.” I say sarcastically. His eyes darken not finding that funny. “Let’s go back to the party.” I fix myself up in the mirror. “Alcohol isn’t good for me.” I say as fix my top.
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A/N: hope you enjoyed part two!!!! the smut is something different from my other posts i hope you liked it!! check my pinned post to find out how to be tagged in future fics!!
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@tpwktahlz
@probablyoutyappingorsomething
@dianasturniolo
@sturnburbs
@owensbabygirl
95 notes · View notes