#I feel such an urge to just start rambling about it again

[mercuriallily]

Girl help I just remembered one of my WIPs and realised I probably need to retcon the entire thing

[plantenjoyer]

I SWEAR I KEEP TRYING TO DO ART BUT THEN SOMETHING GETS IN THE WAY AND THEN I PROCRASTINATE AND THEN SIX MONTHS PASS

[jadeneppy]

WHEEEEE

[arolesbianism]

they make a Jackie duplicant and her stress reaction is all of them at once and her overjoyed reaction is also every stress reaction at once because I think if this women felt an ounce of legitimate happiness again shed immediately self destruct herself into the ground

[immamapletreekid]

the episode how long is forever from teen titans has forever altered my brain chemistry

[ellecdc]

thank you, McLaggen

inspired by the TikTok audio of Phil Dunphy saying "if you ever say anything disrespectful about my wife again, I'll kill you. Sorry, I don't know why that sounded like a joke; I will actually kill you."

James Potter x fem!reader who was apparently 'too much' for McLaggen

CW: they're at a party, readers last relationship left her feeling small, but she loves James and is all good now

It took a bit of unlearning when you found yourself in a relationship with James Potter. 

He sensed your hangups immediately; as if you were a duffle bag containing paraphernalia and he was a well-trained drug dog.

He noticed the way you seemed to fold in on yourself when you were excited, the way you cut yourself off when you began rambling, and the way you seemed to make yourself smaller as if that was what was required for the people around you to feel comfortable.

“Why do you keep snuffing out your own light, lovie? I miss your spark.” He’d said to you one night.

In all honesty, you hadn’t been aware you were even doing such a thing.

But you certainly knew why. 

Though your mother always told you to never look back on life with regrets, you’d spent about a year in what you now consider to be a rather unfortunate relationship with Tiberius McLaggen. 

And though you hadn’t noticed he’d been doing it; by the time your relationship ended, you realised you were perhaps a mere shadow of the person you used to be.

He’d ended the relationship after suggesting you were ‘too much’.

The irony of it was you were the smallest you’d ever been at that point; the ‘least’ you that you could possibly be. How could you be ‘too much’ and diminished at the same time?

You spent a lot of time reflecting after that, but it seemed that when you and James started your relationship, those old habits and qualities made their way back into your subconscious and it took James pointing it out for you to even notice.

You were glad he had, though. He was lovely, and he was caring, and he loved you. He loved your energy, he loved your passion, he loved your excitement, and better yet, he loved sharing those qualities with you.

All of the traits that your ex had deemed unseemly or unflattering were the traits you loved most about James, and in turn what he most loved about you.

And why would you deny such a lovely person of anything they wanted?

You just couldn’t.

So the two of you had been dating for nearly five months already, and you felt more comfortable in yourself than you ever had before.

You thought perhaps that this was just the effect James had on people; you found it almost impossible for any of his friends to be anything but their best selves when they were in his presence. 

You loved him immensely for it. 

You were getting a first hand look at exactly that from your spot on the arm of the sofa as you watched Peter throw his head back in boisterous laughter not usually seen from the typically soft spoken marauder. James didn’t even spend any time being smug about eliciting such a laugh from the cushion below you before he was complimenting Remus on his jumper, knowing very well that Sirius was the one who picked it out for him - and also knowing Sirius would absolutely take full responsibility for the compliment - only to coo about how sweet they were together and leaving both boys blushing messes. 

You had almost forgotten you were sitting in the middle of a Gryffindor party when someone sidled up beside you.

“Lookin’ good, Y/N.” McLaggen commented as he looked you up and down.

You fought the urge to grimace as you narrowed your eyes at him. “Tiberius.” 

“Didn’t think I’d see you here; not really your scene, is it?” He commented with an air of casualty you knew was entirely for show. “I’m here with my new bird; she’s in Gryffindor.” He carried on without waiting for you to respond.

You hummed in acknowledgement as you looked around the room. “It doesn’t look like you’re here with anyone, McLaggen, seeing as you’re standing here talking to me.” 

“Come now, can’t old friends catch up?” He said salaciously. 

“We’re not friends, Tiberius.” You retorted forcefully.

He held his hands up in mock surrender as he chuckled at you. “Down girl, no need to get all jumpy now. You always were a bit of a handful, weren’t you?” 

You didn’t even have a chance to tell McLaggen where to shove it before James was standing up from his place hidden behind you as McLaggen’s face fell. 

“Ah, if it isn’t Tiberius McLaggen; kicked off the Ravenclaw quidditch team, failing Astronomy, received a mere acceptable in Herbology last term, and totally shit the bed with the most beautiful girl in Hogwarts. I’ve heard so much about you!” James recounted with faux cheer as he stuck his hand out to McLaggen, forcing the bloke to give him an awkward handshake as James stared at him hard.

James Potter was still flashing his (what should be award winning) smile, but it never met his eyes which were no longer their warm hazel. 

“Sounds like you’re the one I have to thank.” James carried on as he dropped McLaggen’s hand, wiped his own hand off on his trousers and threw his other arm protectively, possessively, affectionately over your shoulder. “Turns out if you hadn’t been such an absolute fucking tosser and fumbled the best thing to have ever happened to you, I wouldn’t have my sweet, gorgeous girl here. Congrats on losing the most lovely little thing to have ever looked your way; now sod off before I decide to do something that might just be worth making her frown over.”

You were unsuccessful in hiding your snort of amusement as you hid your face in James’ shoulder and listened to McLaggen scoff and stalk away. 

“Merlin’s tits, Prongsie! Did anyone else know James could be mean!?” Sirius cackled as the two of you turned back towards the group. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen James end a conversation without at least wishing someone a good day.” Peter carried on.

“Did you actually threaten the sod?” Marlene continued.

“No, I didn’t threaten him.” James muttered somewhat petulantly. “I promised him pain if he ever spoke to my girl like that again.”

The group cheered as you felt a shy yet pleased heat spread across your face and you shoved your face back into James’ shoulder.

James, for his part, accepted you eagerly and rubbed his hand up and down your arm as he pressed a kiss into your hair. 

“I’ll never let anyone make you feel small ever again.” He promised quietly; whether he was promising himself, or you, or McLaggen, you weren’t entirely sure.

What you were entirely sure of was that it was a promise he intended to keep.

[kittyhui]

♪ coming down - The Weeknd ♪

brother’s best friend! seungcheol x f!reader

cw: smut (minors DNI!!), pinv, unprotected sex (stay safe😁), seungcheol is buff, tbh this is really tame so dw, fluffy at the end

brothers best friend cheol x reader

°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥☆°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥

your brother’s friend, seungcheol, was hot. it was kind of hard to be subtle about his affect on you. the man sitting on your couch was so fucking hot and even though you’ve seen him basically every single day for the past four years, you can’t stop staring at him and his big bulky arms and wide shoulders as he talks to your brother, dokyeom.

“y/n” your brother calls out to you, breaking your thoughts, “me and cheol are heading to the gym now. we’ll grab food on the way back so text me what you want” you say your goodbyes to the boys as they head out and you go up to you room.

°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥☆°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥

“i feel like he’s getting hotter” you sigh through the phone to your friend “him and kyeom go to the gym like every day. his arms are practically bulging out of his shirts”

“he’s definitely doing it on purpose, y/n” she stated. you let out a scoff, denying her words “im telling you! he wants to get you in bed”

“i wish” you laugh, “but seriously if i see seungcheol in another tight shirt again i will suck him off till he sees the pearly gates-“

creak

your neck turns so fast you thought it would break and your eyes land on choi seungcheol, your brother’s best friend, and the man you were very vocally thirsting over. you hang up on your phone call, mouth still agape. “what- what are you doing here, seungcheol?”

“your brother, he uh he dropped me off just now so i can go shower before we ate… he’s picking up the food right now, that’s what i wanted to tell you….” you fought the urge to cry in embarrassment as you look at his face was bright red while he stands frozen in the doorway.

“im so sorry, cheol! i didnt mean to make you uncomfortable- fuck- lets just forget about this, please? im so sorry-“ he cuts your rambling off.

“if you felt this way, you shouldve just told me..” he hissed out. thats when you finally noticed his hands curled into tight fists, his clenched jaw, and the imprint pressed in his grey sweats. “fuck y/n, you could’ve had me for years.”

a shaky breath leaves your lips as you finally build up the strength to speak, “can i have you now?” before you can regret your words, seungcheol’s mouth is on yours, hot and wet, pushing you flatter onto your mattress, “fu- cheol… want you so bad”

“we gotta be quick” he pants, in between kisses, “kyeom will be back soon-“ he barely sounds stressed as he grabs at your hips, grinding down painfully slow. you needed more than this.

“then stop teasing me, cheolie and fuck me stupid” you purr out to the man on top of you, slipping your fingers into his sweatpants, desperately trying to take them off. “needed you for so long, can’t wait any longer.”

“need to prep you, pretty baby” you groan at the pet name, getting more desperate if that was even possible. he pulls your shorts down, cursing at the glistening arousal of your cunt, “s-shit”

“cheol! just fuck me- i can take it. please” you sounded pathetic but who could blame you. the man in front of you was playing stupid games with you and you were about to slap the shit out of him. “unless you’re too scared, cheolie?”

he grunts, detaching from you to pull down his pants and boxers, exposing his cock.. fuck it wasn’t the longest but shit- it was thick. “fine. be a brat then.” your lips form an ‘oh’ shape, beginning to deny his words, when you feel his cock sink slowly into you “fu-fuck, so tight” his jaw clenched and his thick eyebrows furrow as he continues to fill you to the brim, pushing whines and cries out of you.

your brain was turning into mush as he started his hungry thrusts. your body burned at every touch he gave you, biting your lip to suppress the noises you made “cheolie- feel so good, need more-“ you can see the corners of his lips twitch hearing you whimpering under him. his breath feels ragged on your neck when he leans down to kiss and nip at you, pulling your hips into him making his cock fuck deeper and deeper. oh. “im , im going to cum! oh oh god…” your eyes go hazy, mouth falling wide, sobs being knocked out of you as seungcheol continues to fuck you through your orgasm.

“oh, you’re clenching around me so good, princess.. makes me wanna cum in you-shit” he knows he can’t, he shouldn’t but god does he want to. he unfortunately pulls out, leaving you squeaking at the loss of fullness. he strokes himself lazily, rutting against you, getting closer to his own release. looking you in the eye, he growls, he fucking growls your name, and you feel warm cum spurt onto your stomach. “god… you’re so pretty like this, princess. did so good.” he kisses you softly before falling softly besides you.

“you should get up, cheolie.. dokyeom will probably come back soon.” you giggle, sitting up to grab the shorts that came off earlier. “im gonna go clean up” before you can leave your room, he grabs your wrist.

“i really do like you, you know?” he looks at you with big, wide eyes, “i dont want this to be a one time thing or anything. let me take you out.. dinner? lunch? coffee?” all you do is lean into him and kiss his plump lips.

“sure i’d like that. let me get cleaned first and then we’ll talk details” he smiles wide at you, nodding and you smile back.

“hey!!” you both jump, hearing yells from downstairs; dokyeom “if you two are done up there, the food’s getting cold so hurry up!!”

°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥☆°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥

a/n: dazed magazine cheol has ruined me for any man. ik he fucks good

[steddiealltheway]

"I want you," Steve says, staring deeply into Eddie's eyes, watching several emotions flitter through them before stepping back and gesturing to him expectantly.

Eddie swallows hard and takes a deep breath before looking at the ground and mumbling, "I want you."

Steve sighs and hits his arm. "You have to speak up and make direct eye contact. Come on, try again." Eddie groans loudly and rubs his hands over his face. Steve laughs, "You said you wanted my help sounding sexy or whatever for Hellfire."

Eddie huffs and corrects him, "I don't want Jeff and Gareth making fun of me again when I'm acting out a talented seductress."

Steve raises his eyebrows and puts his hands on his hips. "Then, try it again. Picture someone you actually want, and pretend you're talking to them. Don't think about the Hellfire guys. Just think about that person."

Steve watches as Eddie takes a moment to stare at him before dropping his gaze to the ground. He huffs out a humorless laugh and shakes his head before collecting himself and slowly sauntering up to Steve. Eddie looks up at him through his lashes and lowly, very convincingly says, "I want you."

Goosebumps make their way down Steve's arms and his heart starts practically beating out of his chest. He can't help it as his eyes dip down to Eddie's lips, taking in how soft and pink they look. His tongue darts out to wet his suddenly dry lips, and he has the intense urge to lean in and close the distance between them.

Instead, Eddie takes a step back, and Steve finally looks up at his eyes, seeing a multitude of emotions once again. Neither of them says a word as they stare at each other, a tense silence filling the space between the two of them as Steve takes the moment to process what the hell just happened.

Eddie clears his throat and quietly asks, "Was that... good?"

Right. That's what they were doing. Steve nods and runs a hand through his hair. "Ye-yeah. That was... that was great." He settles his hands on his hips again and nods with a tight expression on his face.

"So... should we continue?"

Steve shrugs and decides to simultaneously torture and confuse himself. "Yeah. We have to see if that strategy works with more phrases, right?"

"Right," Eddie says sounding as hesitant as Steve feels.

"Okay," Steve says with a clap and ignores the way Eddie jumps at the abrupt noise. He juts out his hip and crosses his arms. "So what are some of the other things you'll have to say?"

Eddie's brows furrow and his tongue sticks out momentarily, thoroughly distracting Steve before he asks, "You want to kiss me, don't you?"

Steve's eyebrows and pulse shoot up at record speed. "Sorry?"

"It's... one of the phrases," Eddie says, staring at Steve with concern. "Are you sure you want to keep helping me?"

"Yeah," Steve answers a little too quickly and continues, "Okay, try that one again. Really have fun with it this time. Less like you're telling me- I mean, them, and more like you know a secret of theirs."

Eddie nods. "Less accusatory, more flirtatious. Got it," he says with a wink, a small smile appearing on his face showing off his cute dimples. He reaches up into his hair and twirls a strand of hair around one of his fingers as he asks, "You want to kiss me, don't you?"

Without thinking, Steve blurts out, "Yes."

Eddie's whole flirty act drops. "What?"

"Yes!" Steve says with a weird overabundance of energy that usually only Eddie contains. "That was it! Yes as in, you got it. That was perfect. Next line," Steve rambles out, trying to distract Eddie from his own reaction.

"Why don't you come closer, sweetheart?" Eddie asks, not even pausing to get into character as he just slips into the flirtatious persona effortlessly.

Steve turns away and runs a hand through his hair. "Jesus Christ," he mutters because yes he wants to come closer and-

"Hmm?"

"I said, 'Do another,'" Steve lies.

"While you're not facing me?"

Steve nods. "Need to hear if it's convincing when I can't see you." That's definitely a good lie.

He hears Eddie take a deep breath behind him. "I can't stop thinking about you."

Steve squeezes his eyes shut and finds himself yearning for the phrases to be truthfully directed at him. He tries not to give himself away as he asks, "Isn't D and D interactive? Like you'll have people responding to you?"

Eddie hums in confirmation behind him, and Steve finally turns around, catching a glimpse of fear before Eddie's face goes carefully blank.

"Should we practice that?" Steve asks, truly torturing himself.

Eddie stares at him for a moment and nods. His mouth opens and closes a few times before he finally commits to asking, "What's someone like you doing here, pretty boy?"

Steve's heart flutters in his chest at the nickname but sinks when he reminds himself that it's not real. "I'm not sure."

"Really?" Eddie asks and steps closer to him, smiling teasingly. "Because I think we both know why you're here."

Steve swallows heavily.

"Why don't you follow me, and I can help you figure it out," Eddie suggests innocently, but there's an edge of something in his voice.

"Okay," Steve answers weakly, completely forgetting how he got here.

Eddie smiles wickedly and grabs his hand, tugging him to the couch and guiding him to sit back. Steve's breath catches when Eddie leans over him and whispers, "Did you come here with anyone else?"

Slightly confused, Steve answers, "No?"

"Good," Eddie says as he straddles him and tilts Steve's head up in a way that has Steve nearly groaning. Eddie leans forward, breath ghosting over Steve's lips as he whispers, "And this is when I kill you."

Steve frowns as Eddie's hand lightly comes down to the top of his chest, clenched in a fist as if holding something. It takes him a few seconds before Steve finally gets what's happening and asks, "This was all a trap?"

"She's not a good character," Eddie states, still hovering mere inches away.

"I agree," Steve says and tilts his head slightly. "She should at least kiss them first. Give them what they want before they die."

"Won't they regret the last thing they ever did was kissing her?"

"Never," Steve states.

Eddie's chest rises and falls noticeably quicker than before. "Even after she betrays them?"

"Never," Steve insists, staring intently into Eddie's eyes, leaning ever so slightly closer.

Something between them breaks, and Eddie's hands fly into Steve's hair, tugging him close as Steve's lips meet his rushed and hungry. Eddie pushes back with the same passion, feeding on the tension that settled between them before.

Steve lingers in the kiss for as long as he can until Eddie pulls away and lightly hits his chest. "Regret it?" he pants against his mouth.

"Never," Steve answers honestly, moving forward to kiss him again.

Days later, when the seductress is reintroduced in the campaign, all the Hellfire guys shift uncomfortably in their seats and beg Eddie to never talk to them the same way he talks to Steve.

[erwinsvow]

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐢����𝐥𝐬

summary: how you and rafe got started <3

author's note: if i could stop losing my brain cells over rafe cameron for a minute that would be great but i can't so here it is <3 this is mostly cute but in the shea cinematic universe this establishes the beginning of what can only be a hopelessly codependent relationship <3 more parts to come! also none of this would be written without the surge of inspo i get from reading every single one of @princessbrunette's posts but in particular this one, this one, and this<3 one!

now spinning: one of the girls by the weeknd & jennie

Rafe’s always thought you were cute. 

Cute, he’d think to himself in passing, on a hot summer day when he was getting ready to take beers from the fridge and go find the boys at the country club. He didn’t need to steal anything, the waitress at the club always gave him whatever drink he asked for, but he just felt like taking them from the house today. 

You were dawdling around the house with a bored Sarah, all dressed up with nowhere to go. Sarah was texting on her phone, likely engaging in a virtual fight with Topper. He’d feel bad, but the two of them did it to themselves. You were at the counter with Wheezie, leaning on your elbows while the two of you discussed something. He didn’t really care, until he met your eyes for a second. 

Cute. The way you met his eyes and then looked away, face heating up. You were in a bikini and a coverup, probably waiting for his sister before spending the day on the beach or at the pool. The cover up was white and see through, covering everything to the point where no one could see anything but the faint yellow of your bikini underneath.

Leaning on the counter, when you looked away, he got a glimpse into the top of your dress. He could make out little yellow flowers on the material of your bikini and the outline of your tits squeezed against each other. 

He grabbed a beer and opened it with his back tooth, spitting the cap out on the counter next to Wheezie’s book.

“Ew, Rafe, get your spit molecules away from my book.”

“Who reads in the summer anyways? You should be glad for my spit if it makes you stop.”

“It’s my summer reading, Rafe, not everyone can just skip their assignments and get away with it.”

“Please, what have I skipped?”

You and Wheezie turn to look at each other and start laughing. He cracks a smile too, unexpectedly.

“Actually, it’s a great book. You’re missing out, Rafe,” you say, with a smile gracing your face, and he realizes he’s never actually heard the sound of your voice. You’ve maybe said hi to him twice, and both times Sarah had dragged you away within seconds. You even sound cute. His name on your tongue sounds even cuter.

“Really? Maybe I need to give it a try.” You laugh again, meeting his eyes this time. 

“You can’t have my copy, I already put my annotations in this one-“

“Stop yapping, Wheeze. I’m not gonna take yours.”

“Actually you have a copy in the library upstairs. I borrowed it last summer.”

“Really, kid? Wanna come find it with me?”

Your face heats up so much you turn away. He smiles then, and he smiles again when you follow him up to the library.

“This one is fantastic too, it’s about this young girl in England-” your voice continues to describe the plot of the book in your hand. You shelve it and then your eyes immediately land on another, another classic, another favorite. You ramble off the description but Rafe’s hardly paying attention.

He’s trying to recall when you had become so cute, so pretty. He thinks he’s never noticed you after you walk away with Sarah, or when he walks away from you two lounging on pool chairs, your nose in a book like always.

This is different. When had you become so irresistible?

Your pretty hair falls down your back. It sticks to your neck when the two of you are outside in the sun, in the heat. He has an urge to lick the sweat off just to see how you’d blush and feel how you’d squirm. Your eyes are warm and bright, but you’re still too shy to meet his blue ones, even when it’s just the two of you.

And it has been. Just the two of you, recently, almost all of the time. Sarah’s always off with her stupid friends and Wheeze is at home doing her summer work. 

The two of you travel to every ice cream parlor in the eight in the next few weeks. Conversation comes easily, even though you have nothing in common. He hasn’t picked up a bag from his dealer since he started talking to you, he realizes. Hasn’t felt the need to get high.

You’ve never even smoked weed, much less snorted coke. You’ll drink at a party with Sarah, but not too much, and you always end up being the sober friend holding back the vomiting girl’s hair. At the bonfire that he invites you to, your eyes keep darting around, seeing if anyone needs your help. 

Rafe moves so he’s standing right in front of you, blocking your view.

“Hey, kid,” he says quietly, leaning in. You’re boxed in, with Rafe and only Rafe on your mind. The clean, attractive scent of his cologne. The way it lingers on his clothes, like the button up you’re wearing over your pink dress.

He picks up the red cup in your hand and places it on the log beside you, balancing his beer next to it. His hands are cold from the bottle but you don’t mind much. He takes your wrists first, holding them in place, and then slides down so your hands are touching. 

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” You were looking down at the hands, where the two of you were connected, but his voice makes you look up. He’s looking at you, and you want to hide your face. Your fingers twitch beneath Rafe’s grip. He holds on even tighter. “Don’t look away, princess. We gotta work on that, huh?”

You feel your face heating up at the nickname. You wish you were home so you could scream into your pillow.

“Sorry, sorry,” you scramble, trying to look up but you can’t find the strength or the will.

You’re embarrassed. Of course you are—this is Rafe, and you’re just you. Rafe is the one you’ve had a crush on since you knew what crushes were, and you are still the awkward little thing you were the first time you met him. 

His gaze burning holes through you makes you want to run and hide. Because this is Rafe, and right now you’re one of his girls. The ones Sarah’s complained about the whole time she’s known you—they get too attached, act all clingy, and then are replaced before long. 

You hear Rafe’s quiet laughter. You’re still boxed in, feeling hot and clammy even though he’d given you his button up not thirty minutes ago because you felt cold. 

“What’re you saying sorry for?” You look up quickly, and then look back down. Then Rafe’s hands leave yours, and he holds up your chin until you’re looking right into his eyes. “Hmm?”

You feel like puking. 

“I-I just, well I just-”

“You just what?”

“I don’t think I can be, um, be one of your flingy, uh fling-type girls. So, you know, maybe all of this isn’t a good idea.”

“Fling-type girls?” he questions. He’s holding back a laugh, which makes you irrationally upset. You shove hard against his chest to free yourself from the cage of his arms. 

“Yes, your fling-type girls. You have a new girl on your arm every week, and everyone knows it, and I refuse to be one of them, because it’s just embarrassing and dehumanizing,” he watches you ramble on. He smiles, but you don’t notice. “And frankly, I deserve better than that.”

“Are you done?” You glare back at him.

“Yes, and not because you said that. I was done anyway.”

“Good.” Your face drops for a second, thinking you overstepped and totally overreached regarding his intentions, but then Rafe surprises you—he leans in and kisses you. 

You weren’t expecting a playground peck, but the way he’s kissing you completely surpasses any and all expectations (and fantasies) you’d dreamt up. His grip on your hips is hard, and his tongue is almost down your throat. It’s messy, and wet, and when he pulls away, there’s strings of spit connecting you to each other. 

You should wipe your mouth before anyone sees, but you don’t. Your heart is racing, and you can barely speak, much less move. 

“If I wanted you to be one of my girls, I wouldn’t have spent the last three weeks listening to you blab about books and buying you ice cream. You’re gonna be my only girl, and that’s that, okay?”

You nod dumbly—words and motions still not quite back yet. You feel flushed. People’s eyes are on you both.

“Now, do you wanna head out and go get a cone?” You nod again. “Good girl. And watch your mouth.”

[absdoll]

Hi bee:3 requesting for Abby eating out or playing with readers 🐱 with her fingers while reader is playing a game

It's all I've been thinking about lwjeuvesivdsi

hi qt ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა i luv this idea ! ty for requesting 🎀

cw : pervy!abby <3 my beloved ♡ // reader is playing animal crossing new horizons !

“abs! guess who just came to my island?!” you squeal as abby lifts her head from her book to meet your sparkling eyes. “hmm let me guess, the weird looking red dog?” she asks, quite genuinely.

“wh-… oh! cherry? she’s so cute! you’re mean.” you furrow your eyebrows at her, offended she called one of your favorite villagers weird looking.

your girlfriend smirks, a sigh leaving her mouth. abby gets a rise out of making her sweet doll-face frown and pout. abby knows it’s wrong to think such dirty thoughts about how innocent you are. the way your cute little butt peeks out of the bottom of your cotton shorts when you try to reach the top cabinet. when you’re all doe-eyed and curious asking her what she wants for dinner. how you sit crisscross applesauce in the big comfy living room chair, looking so small and fragile. and right now, the way you’re so giddy about a silly animal video game. she takes a deep breath as she moves over to where you’re lounging.

“i’m sorry baby, can i see?” abby rests her head on your shoulder, her right hand settling on your bare thigh. you giggle when she gives your soft flesh a little squeeze.

“it’s chai! i’ve wanted her to move to my island since i started playing!” you ramble on about your beloved blue elephant. “she’s just like cinnamoroll, look!” you tilt your nintendo switch screen in abby’s direction, biting your bottom lip in excitement, so happy you get to share this moment with your favorite girl.

abby glances at the game for a moment, then looks up at you, your eyes glistening. she looks back down at the screen, noticing your small fingers toggling with the knobs of the device. she takes another deep breath.

“mm so cute angel, i love the little teacup on her head.” abby kisses your shoulder. “i’m gonna get something to drink from the fridge, you want anything?” she inquires. you shake your head no, too focused on trying to make a good impression on your new guest.

the tall blonde stands to walk to the kitchen, stopping to stretch her arms above her head, letting out a long sigh. she turns around to give you a sweet look before she leaves the room, but her eyes fall somewhere else.

as you sit with your legs in the butterfly position, your pretty pussy on half display. abby clenches her fists, she’s resisting the urge to pry your game out of your soft dainty hands, pin them above your head, and fuck you dumb. she can’t hold back much longer.

“baby,” abby breathes, she walks back over to you, kneeling before you, elbows on your knees. “just keep playing, okay? don’t mind me.” you’re too busy cleaning up your island and making small talk with your digital neighbors to give abby any more than a “mhmm! okay bibi!” and she knows it.

abby begins planting gentle kisses to your cold thigh, humming against your skin as she sees goosebumps rise up your legs. you shiver a little when her face gets closer to your half covered heat. you move your game slightly to the left, looking down at her. “what’d i say pretty girl? hmm? eyes on the screen, don’t look at me again.” abby softly speaks through her pebbled kisses. you frown, confused, but decide to listen and be the good girl abby wants you to be.

abby’s mouth is nearing your pool of slick, you can feel the warm breeze of her breaths tickling your entrance. she uses her nose to reveal your wet pussy from your shorts.

“abs!” you attempt to close your legs around her head, but she knows you, she knows your movements. she knows that you like to play this little game where you say “nooo abs! don’t wanna! too sensitive!” and then a few seconds later, you’re spread wide open, desperately waiting for her skilled tongue to plunge into your aching hole.

“cmon princess, i don’t have to tell you again, do i?” abby coos. “spread.” her voice a little huskier.

you nod and relax your legs. you resume playing, eyes glued to the screen again, quickly getting distracted by the singsong isabelle is putting on outside town hall.

abby’s tongue now inches away from your puffy pulsating clit. all she can think about is devouring every last ounce of you while you sit there, so innocently focused on something far less disgusting than what she’s doing.

your perverted girlfriend watches as your cute hole tightens around nothing, a smile forms on her freckled face. she extends her wet pink muscle and licks a gentle zigzag from fold to fold. “mm-aahh!” you let out in a high pitched moan. abby shoots you a glare, a warning, that if you acknowledge what she’s doing again, she isn’t gonna be so sweet and soft anymore.

she’s drinking your pussy, tongue circling your sensitive nub, slurping every drop of white cream that’s sticky all over her chin. abby glances up at you, “good girl, so proud of you angel.” you bite your lip so hard that you wince a little at the sudden taste of blood, but you know better than to look at abby, let alone let her know how good she’s making you feel.

abby slides one finger into your pussy with ease, your drenched entrance practically sucking her in. “so wet for me.” she’s making out with your thumping clit, curling her index finger up, the pad perfectly tapping your g-spot.

you can’t breathe, you can’t think, you’re trying to move the controls of your game, your hands shaking. all you want to do is buck your hips up to her face, shoving her tongue so deep inside of you that feel her nose touch your clit over and over and over. “you’re close princess, i can feel it.” abby hums.

she’s going so agonizingly slow, the soft sensation of her saliva mixed with the unhurried pump of her finger, you’re dying for her to pick up the pace — and that’s exactly what she isn’t gonna do.

“cum slowly for me baby, ride it out.” abby continues lapping up your slick, using her free hand to hold your legs open. “that’s it sweet girl, riiight…. there.” you’re cumming all over her face, from her nose to her chin, her face is buried in your juices.

“let me hear that pretty moan of yours.” abby’s eyes fixated on your blissed out face. finally granting you permission, you scream out in euphoria, “uug-uuuh aahh aaa-bby-y-y!”

abby removes her finger, plopping it in her mouth, eyes rolling to the back of her head as she sucks your cum off.

sliding your shorts back up your legs and kissing the top of your head, she starts to walk towards the kitchen. “you want something to drink now?” she teases.

a/n : i loved writing this ପ૮๑ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ๑ აଓ hehe if u don’t love pervy!abby then idk what to tell u , ur missing out ! 😵‍💫💕 hope u enjoyed bbs <333

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆ @whore4abby @hersweetheart @enbesbians ♡🧁

[eccentricwritingbaby]

surprise!

oscar piastri x reader

summary - after a few long months of not being able to see each other - y/n at university, oscar racing and training - reader is feeling the blues of long distance. until a certain surprise comes her way. 

masterlist

-

it was final exam season. final exams. instead of the calm before the storm, you would argue they were the storm before the calm. finals stressed you out beyond belief, they were always harder than what your professor claimed, always had information on them that wasn’t on the study guide, and you were constantly swamped with work. you didn’t have time for anything but studying.

but after. after. you would be out of school for the summer, finals off your mind, school off your mind, and you’d get to see your sweet, sweet boy. you and oscar had been going out for a year now, you knew the routine of both of you not being able to see each other often, or call often - your schedules so opposite it was constantly a game of phone tag. but summer was your time. you were out of school, thank god, and he usually had only a few races left - that you got to tag along to - and then it was his break. and you both could bask in each others presence before the school year and his season starts yet again. 

the good news was that you had only a year left of school, the bad news was that you had a whole year left of school. you were usually a glass half-full kind of girl, but at times when the stress wore you down, and the facetime call to your boyfriend was missed, you needed a break before you lost it. 

it was now the second time you tried to call oscar, trying to reach him on the verge of your mental breakdown as you were staring at books and your computer for the last four hours. 

“hi, baby, sorry my phone was in my room,” he answered the call with a smile on his face, “how are you doing?”

“i’m fine,” you mumble out through the phone, your boyfriend frowning at the solemn disposition read across your face, “just miss you,”

“i know baby,” he gives you a sad smile, “i miss you too,”

“what were you up to?” you ask him, taking every opportunity to hear his voice and see his face.

“i was just with lando and alex in logan’s room for a bit, we were playing this new game,” his eyes brighten a bit as he speaks, happy to see your eyes lighting up as well on the other end of the call. 

“oh really? that sounds fun, tell me about it,” you urge, not fully caring much about this video game, but also loving watching oscar speak with passion and humor - a great distraction from the mess of work you had left on your desk. 

oscar drabbles on for a few more minutes, giving you stories about how lando died in the game and almost broke the controller, logan almost falling off his chair from laughter, alex and oscar making fun of the both of them, and so on. you sit on your bed holding a large smile on your face, happy to finally be connected to your boyfriend and talking to him. 

“what else do you have tonight?” he asks you the dreaded question and you roll your eyes, breathing out a huff of air as you do so. 

“so much, i still have two essays to finish up, but it’ll just be some finishing touches,” you sigh, “thanks for reminding me,” you add on sarcastically with a laugh. oscar laughs with you, glad that you aren’t too stressed and can still joke around. 

“well that’s good,” coming down from the shared giggles, his face turns a bit more serious as he asks his next question, “what are you doing tomorrow?”

“um,” you think for a minute, a bit uneasy about his quick change in demeanor, “just studying for tomorrow, because the next day - that’s tuesday, right?” you ask him, or yourself, quickly before seeing him nod through your screen, “yeah, tuesday’s my last final and then i’ll be flying out to you on wednesday!” you end your little ramble with a cheer. 

“i’m so excited, baby,” he chuckles at your happiness, “i can’t wait to see you,” 

“me too,” you smile back at him, the unspoken words of love dangling between you two as your eyes and smiles don’t leave each other, “i wish it would come sooner, though,”

“yeah,” he agrees, clearing his throat a bit, “listen, i’ve got an early flight out of here tomorrow so i’ll call you then,” he now moves to end the call, “and you’ve got some essays to finish up,”

“trying to get me off the phone, piastri?” you ask with a giggle.

“ugh yes, i hate talking to you,” he laughs out with insincerity. 

“okay,” you fake frown, “i can take a hint,”

“shut up, y/n, you know i’m joking,”

“i know,” you laugh, “call me tomorrow, i love you,”

“i love you too, baby,” you blow each other light kisses and hang up the phone. groaning and stretching, you move over to your desk and stare at all of the work you have yet to finish. 

“one more year, y/n, one more year,” you whisper to yourself to gain some momentum. wiping the tears that accidentally escaped quickly, you shake your head and pick up your pen, ready to finish off your second to last year. 

-

you woke up to books sprawled across your bed, having tried to study a bit before you fell asleep the night before. a distant ringing had you coming out of the sleepy fog, your eyes still closed and your hand slapping around the bed in order to quiet the sound. once your phone was found, your eyes squinted open and you immediately gained energy when you saw who was calling.

“hey, osc,” you’re morning voice evident, leading you to clear your throat a little.

“hi, baby,” you hear through the phone. it was odd for oscar to not call you over facetime, his constant push for ‘seeing your cute face’ was all you heard about, “i’m sorry, were you sleeping?”

“yeah, but i needed to get up anyways,” you groan, now stretching in your bed, fully waking up. 

“can’t waste a minute of studying?” he asks you, you hear voices in the background and some wind, assuming he was walking towards his destination.

“yeah,” you chuckle, “where are you? i can barely hear you over the wind,”

“oh um, about that,” he sighs, “i took a detour,” your eyebrows knit in confusion, wondering where he would have gone other than back home. 

“oh?” you ask him, now hearing a knock on your door.

“you should get that, y/n,” oscar laughs through the phone.

“what?”

“the door, baby, go get the door,” finally understanding what you had hoped he was implying, you jump out of your bed, out of your bedroom, and towards your front door, swinging it wide open to come face to face with your boyfriend. 

“oscar,” you breathe out, dropping your phone and rushing into his awaiting arms, “oh my god,” you begin to cry, holding onto him tighter. he returns the emotions, holding you and rocking you, soaking up all of what he had missed so much. 

“couldn’t last one more day without seeing you,” he whispers into your hair, now walking you both further into your apartment and shutting your door. 

“i can’t believe you’re here,” you whisper into his hoodie that your face was buried into, “i’m so happy,”

“me too, baby, me too,” he just sighs, breathing in your scent he had missed so much. finally pulling apart, his left hand comes up to hold the back of your neck, kissing you softly and feverishly. your antsy lips accept, your right arm coming to grab the neck of his hoodie and pull him closer, if that was even possible. 

breaking apart for air, your foreheads lean onto each other as you both bask in the feeling of being able to hold each other once again. 

“i-um,” you clear your throat a bit, “i’ve got studying to do, i’m sorry-”

“no, no,” he cuts you off, kissing you again, “baby, i know you’ve got to study, i just wanted to be with you,”

“okay,” you smile, grabbing his hand and leading him into your bedroom, he takes a look around at the books and papers spread everywhere and just laughs. 

“you are the same chaotic girl every finals season,”

“that’s the only way i know how to be,” you shrug at his joke, pulling out your desk chair and opening your computer, “i’m gonna throw my headphones on so you can watch the tv or something if you want,”

“okay, baby,” he places a kiss to the top of your head, moving to lay down on your bed and flip the tv onto his favorite show. 

he sits there for a moment, watching your pen spin in your hand, then moving to flip open a book, then moving to type on your computer, and he is in awe. you always told him you loved watching him in the garage because seeing him be intelligent and passionate was attractive as well as endearing. he finally understands what you meant. watching the person he loves be in her element was not only beyond attractive, it was inspiring. to see you push yourself and dedicate yourself was beautiful. and he knew he was the luckiest man on the planet. 

“what?” you turn and look at him, taking out one of your headphones. 

“nothing,” he smiles back at you, watching you turn around and get back to work.

-

[mikeandikeschmidt]

Once Upon a Time

Mike Schmidt x babysitter!f!reader

Word Count: 1864

Summary: Like all other imagines go, ever since Mike hired you as Abby’s babysitter, you’ve made their life so much more fun. Today’s fun? Playing fairy tales with Abby. Mike thinks it’s hilarious until he’s suddenly brought into production…

• • •

There was a satisfying ‘click’ when Mike turned the key. With one little shove, the door was open and he could breathe again. Another rough shift at work, but he was so grateful to be home. Where he could relax and just unwind…

And then he heard giggling. And he had the sinking feeling this was not going to be an “unwind” kind of day. What kind of mischief was Abby getting into now? Although, he much preferred hearing her laughter over the silence he used to get. Ever since he hired that new babysitter, Abby’s brightened up a lot. So, despite the drowsy drooping over his shoulders, he smiled as he shut the door behind him.

“Hey, I’m home!” He called out.

“We’re in here!” Your voice replied, making his smile twitch just a bit wider without him meaning to. You were such a saint. After what happened with the last babysitter, he thought he wouldn’t find another half as good, but you surpassed any and all expectation. Once he got the ball rolling better with work, he’d pay you. Soon.

“What on earth…” Mike’s voice trailed off when he saw what was going on in Abby’s room.

Lights were strung about, a great big fort connected to the ceiling and strung down like a canopy. With the use of cardboard, paper, and markers, the fort was surrounded by fake towers and what he assumed was a moat. And under the strung-up blankets were two familiar faces with paper crowns.

“We’re playing fairy tales,” You quickly explained, feeling the urge to take off the crown. You hadn’t felt self-conscious when it was just you and Abby, but when a cute guy looks at you? That’s a whole different thing. The embarrassment only worsened when you saw him stifle a laugh. Crap, what could he be thinking right now?

If only you knew that he thought you both made the cutest sight he'd ever seen.

"If we're going to do Snow White, we need an apple." Abby turned to you, refusing to let Mike ruin your fun together. She was not done playing. In fact, seeing the two of you looking at each other gave her a little idea...

"I'll go get the apple." You stepped over the cardboard towers and paper moat to head to the kitchen, "I'll be in the kitchen."

"Right behind ya," Mike added as he shrugged off his jacket.

You quickly took the crown off and set it down before going to the counter. You rummaged through the bowl of fruit, going past bananas and pears to find what you wanted.

Mike pulled out a Gatorade from the fridge, "Heh, thanks again for this. You have no idea what a difference you've made to Abby."

"Oh it's nothing. She's a lot of fun." You reassured him.

"I promise I'll pay you as soon as my check comes in, this isn't going to be the usual. You know, if, uh, you still want to continue this. I get it if you don't. You're not obligated to keep coming..." He was rambling now. He hadn't gotten like this since high school. Sheesh, what was going on with him? He reached up and adjusted his shirt's collar. It was getting warm in here all of a sudden.

"Mike, stop. You're completely fine. I'm happy to be here. After all, what are neighbors for?"

He shrugged. He'd just gotten so used to you being here, so quick. You fit right in. Looking back on it, the house used to feel so empty. Abby used to go to her room and just draw by herself. Mike would go to bed early or watch a couple shows on TV. Now, there was so much light and laughter brought in. He barely recognized his life anymore. He really hoped this was a sign for better days.

"Ah! Here we are, a classic red apple. I better not keep the princess waiting." You teased and started heading back to Abby's room, with a little skip in your step. But to your surprise, upon entering in, you saw Abby wearing her darkest purple blanket over her head like a cloak.

"I don't remember Snow wearing anything that dark."

"I'm not going to be Snow, you are." Abby told you and hurried to take the apple from you, "I got to be the princess the last two times. It's your turn."

You hadn't realized you were taking turns but okay.

"Where is your crown?" Abby squinted at you and made a face, "Mikeee! (Y/n) needs her crownnn!"

"Where is it?" He hollered from the other room.

"I left it on the counter!" You rose your voice, trying not to laugh. What has your life become? You felt like a Mom or something. And hey, you kind of liked it. Even though this wasn't your blood family or anything, you'd gotten real close with Mike and Abby. You just felt so comfortable with them.

Mike came back and briefly held up the crown, "Alright, where's the princess?"

Your face reddened and you sheepishly held up your hand, "Here."

He nodded and strolled over, briefly standing on his tip-toes to set it dramatically over your head, earning giggles from his sister. But just before he went to leave, Abby grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"Don't go yet, I want you to watch!"

"Watch?" You echoed and your heart dropped to your stomach. Yeah, you were doing this for the kid, but you felt so shy playing pretend in front of Mike.

"Oh, alright, I'd be happy to watch." To your horror, Mike plopped down into the chair by Abby's desk and folded his arms. A big smile on his face.

Your eye twitched at the cocky little gesture. Oh, he was loving this, wasn't he? You didn't know if that was better or worse. But you tried to put it out of your mind when Abby got into character. She came up in her makeshift cloak,

"The evil witch approaches and knocks on Snow White's door..." Abby narrated before knocking on one of the blankets, pretending there was a thudding sound.

You stepped inside the fort then immediately poked your head out, forcing your gaze on Abby instead of Mike's amused face in the corner, "Hello?"

"Hello, young lady..." Abby ironically croaked, despite being many years younger than you, "I am giving out free apples. Would you like one?"

You heard muffled laughter again. Well, you weren't going to let him get to you. If he was going to pay you someday, you were going to earn every penny. He wanted a performance? Alright, here we go.

"Oh, how lovely! Of course!" You reached for it and held it to your mouth before taking a big bite.

"Muahaha! My plan is all coming together!" Abby rubbed her hands together and burst into a fit of mischievous giggles—that sounded a little too convincing for half a second.

"Oh no! I feel strange!" You held a hand to your head then spun around before making a dramatic 'fall' back onto the floor, bending your knees at the right second so the impact wouldn't be so bad. Besides, there were so many scattered pillows around, it wasn't harsh at all.

"Oh, bravo! Great job." Mike chuckled and clapped before starting to get up from his seat.

"Hey! The story isn't over!" Abby pointed a finger at him, "This part is important! I need your help!"

"Wait, what?"

"Snow White needs a handsome prince to wake her up." Abby explained and took off the cloak. She reached to the side for the crown she had made for herself, and handed it to Mike, "Your turn."

You had been pretending to be asleep but now your eyes were wide open. You started to sit up, "Oh, Abby, that's not necessary--"

Ohh it suddenly wasn’t so funny anymore. Was it, Mike? “Yeah, I'm really not an actor. You guys have fun, I'll just prepare dinner..."

But Abby wasn’t having it. She pointed to you first, “No! You! Lay back down! And you! Prince!”

Mike blinked down at his sister, but…apparently he didn’t have the strength to turn her down. He sighed and put the crown on his head. You honestly couldn’t believe it.

You slowly lowered back to the ground and closed your eyes. Not like you weren’t kind of hoping for a kiss from Mike one of these days, but you couldn’t say this is the way you expected to have your first one.

It certainly wasn’t the way Mike planned it, either. He had expected he’d finally get up the courage to ask you on a date. After he’d gotten around to paying you and proved he was in a better situation. But as soon as Abby found out of his crush on you, she had to push this to go a little quicker. He just had to hope he didn’t die of embarrassment in the process.

Abby took off her cloak and let out a gasp, “Oh no! My friend, Snow White is hurt! Help! Help! Prince Charming, come help!”

Mike sighed and walked over, “What’s wrong?”

“The princess has been poisoned! She needs true love’s kiss to wake her up!” Abby held her hands together and looked up at him with expectation.

“Abby, you really don’t expect me to—“ But the look she gave him told him she was serious. Was this really happening? Why didn’t he have the courage to tell her no?

He got down on his knees and looked over your features. He couldn’t tell but you were just as panicked about this. Your heart was pounding like crazy. What was he going to do? Maybe he’d kiss your forehead or your cheek. Something light just to say he did it. But no. When Mike lowered himself near to you, you were surprised by the touch of his lips. The soft scratch of his stubble. His breath was warm on your skin and made your heart flutter. This wasn’t the way you both had planned it, but it was a beautiful first kiss together.

Of course you both didn’t go crazy, Abby was right there, but it was a lingering kiss. Soft and sweet. Mike was surprisingly gentle. But just before you both could get used to it…

“Yay! The princess is saved!” Abby threw up her hands and giggled.

You both broke apart and nervously chuckled at the same time. You decided to speak first before it got awkward.

“Thank you so much for saving me!”

“Of course.” Mike dutifully bowed his head like a prince would, briefly licking his lips.

“Now the prince carries Snow White off into happily ever after!” Abby beamed.

“Heh, alright. Right this way, princess.” Mike gently scooped you up into his arms and rose to his feet with no issue. Wow, he was strong…

“Off to happily ever after?” You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Off to the spaghetti and meatballs I’m making for dinner.” He replied.

You held a hand to your chest and laughed heartily, “Oh, my hero!”

The end.

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: friends to lovers, pussy drunk mingyu (metaphorically), smut, f reader, dry humping, pining, sub!reader, etc.

wc: 840

masterlist

bestfriend!mingyu who's been crushing on you since you met but you were dating someone at the time so he pushed his feelings aside and befriended you instead

now that you had been broken up for a while, mingyu had a constant feeling in his chest urging him to make a move or at least try to get with his pretty best friend. the only problem was he was terrified of ruining your friendship.

little did he know the reason you broke up with your ex was because you couldnt stop thinking about mingyu. his sweet personality, the way he treated his family (he was always so so nice to his parents and sister), how caring he was with his friends, how respectful he was to his staff, how tall and handsome he was, how tenderly he always held you, how much you'd love for that tenderness to turn into something more.

you and mingyu were both stuck in a catch 22, unknowingly waiting for the other to make a move despite being completely incorrectly certain that the other did not like them back. until the dam finally broke.

"jesus christ" he exhaled against your ear, bare chest pressed up against yours.

it had been a regular hang out with completely innocent intentions (he swears !!) but you just looked so pretty that day and you were sitting so so close to him, he couldnt help but be a little extra drawn to you today.

it started with sitting a little closer than usual. now that you were single, the touchiness between you had gone up quite a bit, allowing for mingyu to finally indulge in your touch as he'd always wanted.

having been sitting closely on the couch, gracing each others hands at times, it was easy for mingyu to wrap his arms around you, and much easier for you to scoot and take a seat on his lap (after all, you were besties, right?).

you're not sure who started it, but you had found yourself guiding his hands under your loose shirt, allowing him to run his fingers up and down your abdomen, clearly warming up for something more.

in a very predictable turn of events, his hands ended up groping your bare breasts under your shirt, making you exhale at the warm and gigantic touch of his hands.

one thing led to another and you'd found yourself in your current position. almost completely bare with a six foot tall mingyu in a matching lack of apparel on top of you as he dragged the last clothed part of his body against you, rutting right against your clit, causing you to mewl as his head remained glued to your neck, licking and biting softly at it.

"jesus christ," he had exhaled against your ear a moment ago.

"baby, is this okay? are you sure?", he questioned, showing no signs of stopping his movements, even increasing the force behind them.

"y-yes. fuck. more please," you begged fruitlessly, half-aware that mingyu would give you anything you wanted anyway.

as he sped up, you wrapped your legs around his back, attempting to grind against him, obsessed with the drag of his massive size against you.

your high quickly approached. and with this knowledge mingyu sped up, grabbed your legs and wrapped them more securely around his waist as he rutted against you maniacally.

"do you know? do you have any idea how long i've waited?", he rasped against your ear.

'there wasnt a single day where i went to sleep without thinking of you first', he continued. "wishing i could drag this pussy up and down my cock and have you crying as you feel how much i want you."

"is this enough?", he questioned. "it'll never be enough for me. i need you again and again. need to be inside you. need you in my tongue. need to take care of you in every way. gotta take care of my pretty girl, right?", he rambled, rutting harshly against you as you almost reached your breaking point.

moaning and crying under him, you clawed at any part of him you could reach, feeling insanely euphoric at his words and at the heavy drag of his cock against your most sensitive parts.

"g-gyu- fuck pl-please dont stop. fuck. fuck please!", you begged, knowing your end had arrived.

"i wont. fuck. never. im gonna make you cum. and then im gonna bury my face between your legs and make you cry again. gonna make you come over and over so you can be ready to take me. gonna treat you so so good, my pretty thing. gonna love you so good," he sounded exasperated as he himself reached his end inside his boxers, feeling like a horny mess knowing he had much left in him to give.

as you both fell from your highs, mingyu got off the bed and swung your legs around his head, getting ready to give you yet another orgasm that would have you regretting not leaving your ex the moment you met your best friend.

a/n: uhhh once again not proofread im running on fumes atp. if theres any inconsistencies im so sorry </33

[catboyieejeno]

gameboy :: p.js — one

genre: gamer! jisung x gamer! reader, college au cw: female reader, fwb to lovers, explicit smut, pervy jisung, male masturbation, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, inexperienced jisung, cum play/breeding kink, pet names, slight humiliation kink, size kink, creampie, probably more wc: 18.257k

join the taglist for part two

18+ minors do not interact!

The red letters that flash across your screen read ‘Defeat’, illuminating your dimly lit room with a shy, red hue. The instant the word appears on your monitor, a voice blasts through your headset, erupting in emphatic complaints and protests. You can hear the clatter of a keyboard and mouse being shoved around on the other end of the receiver, and it takes everything in you to stifle your laugh. 

“We definitely could’ve won that!” the boy scoffs, “I swear, sometimes it feels like you and I are the only people with any fucking game sense.” 

“Wow, thanks for the validation,” you joke, instinctively queuing up for another match. Your eyes trail up to the little icon in the corner of the screen that glows green every time he speaks.

“You know what I mean,” he grumbles, and you imagine he must not look all that different from the little crying cat picture he set as his discord icon. The thought makes you snort, but he ignores you, stating, “I think this is my last game,” 

You nod even though you know he can’t see you, “same, I have class tomorrow,”

“First day of the semester for you, too?”  

You nod again. “Unfortunately. My days of gaming until four and sleeping until noon have come to an end.” 

He laughs, leaning forward in his chair as he realizes something, “You know, I never asked what you’re studying,” 

“Oh,” you blink, “Well, the first class I have tomorrow is just a random credit I needed, but I’m actually majoring in-” 

It takes less than a few seconds for your words to drown out into a muffled buzz, and the only thing Jisung can focus on now is the silky, smooth sound of your voice. 

He would never admit it, at least not out loud, but your voice makes his heart beat just a little faster. The way each and every word rolls off your tongue makes his breath hitch, imagination running wild at the thought of what your lips look like when they mold to form each syllable and sound. 

Every night like clockwork, Jisung finds himself rocking side to side in his desk chair, eyes hanging low and round lips curved up into a smile as he listens to you speak.

It’s so easy to talk to him, too. By now, you’ve lost count of how many nights the two of you rambled off in voice chats, watching shows or playing video games or simply oversharing the details of your lives. It’s only been a few months since you met in a game chat, on that night where he practically harassed you for your discord after you carried him up a rank in-game. You’re secretly grateful he did, though you wouldn’t let him know that; the two of you effortlessly became part of each other’s daily routine, and now, calls with you are his favorite way to end the night. Tonight is no exception.

Jisung begins to mindlessly swing in his chair as usual. He’s humming passively between your small pauses to encourage you to keep going as his hands automatically start caressing his torso. It’s a somewhat innocent gesture, or at least it starts out that way: his palms sliding across the ridges of his abdomen as he listens to your voice. It’s better than music to his ears, and it urges his long fingers to dance closer and closer to his waistband.

“–and I thought about changing it, but I think with an degree in Lit, I could probably get a career in–”

Lost in your voice, Jisung slips his hands into his shorts, holding his balls as he fully zones out of the conversation. He knows you’re saying words and forming actual sentences, but his social awareness has dwindled completely and he absolutely can’t seem to get past how sweet you sound, and how much sweeter you would sound under… different circumstances. He moves up to hold his dick gently and furrows his brows. Almost accidentally, his thumb brushes along the underside of his tip, teeth clamping the inside of his cheek and gnawing on it to ground himself. Just as eager as its owner, Jisung’s dick jolts in his palm, progressively swelling up until it’s flushing bright pink. 

“You’re into English?” He manages to stop daydreaming and hone into the conversation for a fleeting moment, just long enough to ask you that simple question and keep your attention off of his rapidly shifting breath.

He’s blatantly playing with himself now, ever so distractedly. It’s an autonomous act: the way the pad of his middle finger trails over his slit to collect a bit of the pre-cum that has begun to dribble out in pearly beads. He hisses, then quickly snaps his mouth shut in hopes that you hadn’t heard him. 

“Yeah,” he can hear your smile in your words, “I think I always have been. I used to read all the time and—I swear, if you say I’m boring, I’ll personally come over and choke you–” 

As he acknowledges reality for a quick moment, his pace falters. His brows pinch, and he feels confused as he realizes he can’t stop or even moderate his actions, despite the shame slowly beginning to wash over him. The more you talk, the harder he grows. His grip is getting tighter, his strokes needier… he must be losing his mind. With a gulp, he thinks to himself, what would you do if you could see him touching himself like this to you? Would you think it’s sick and twisted or would you offer to help him out? His head begins to throb as the room spins around him, but he really can’t seem to slow his motions. By now, he’s bucking his hips up and into his hand while the other covers his mouth, silencing the whines that threaten to leave his throat. He’s breathing heavily, praying to god you don’t somehow notice his perverted actions. Despite knowing that he isn’t thinking straight, Jisung can’t help the thoughts that continue to fog his mind, rampant and obscene. 

Could you hear the squelching of his hand pumping his cock, covered in his pre-release? Or the way he’s practically panting, reduced to nothing at the mere sound of your voice? He’s not sure whether or not his mic would even pick that up, but even so, the corner of his lips curl into a lazy smile as his mind continues down his twisted rabbit hole. 

In spite of not knowing what you look like, there’s no denying that he wants to give you all of him. He wants to feel himself buried deep inside your throat, your pretty voice vibrating around him as you choke on his length. He feels himself twitch in his palm and he subconsciously nods, picturing it's your walls around him instead of his own inadequate hand. Jisung huffs out once, fucking his fist wildly, picturing how much he’d like to feel himself bust inside of your warm, tight pus-

“Sung? Sung!”

“Huh? W-what?” As he yanks his hand from his shorts, the waistband snaps against his skin and he yelps out at the impact, “Sorry! I promise I was listening, it-its just, I got a little caught up with–” words are tumbling out of his mouth, before he can catch up to them.   

“It’s fine, it’s fine! Hurry, just pick your agent before the match gets–” but the timer runs out, and the lobby screen appears once more as you sigh, “–canceled...” 

Jisung glances down at his hand, separating his fingers and watching how the sticky pre-cum leaves webbed strings between each of his parted digits. His stomach is also wet, and the tent in his pants is growing increasingly painful with each passing second. 

“What were you fantasizing about, huh?” Oh, fuck. The teasing edge in your words makes his nerves tingle, and he throws his head back as you hum into your mic, “Hmm. Well, I guess it was more interesting than what I was saying. Can’t blame you though, the topic of school is boring me too, and the semester hasn’t even started yet. Also, that can’t count as your last game. I literally won’t allow it.” 

You queue up for another game and Jisung sighs, watching the timer on the screen tick away. The picture changes, and the two of you are prompted to start a game. A few kleenex wipes collect the mess on his hand and torso, and he settles back in his chair after tossing them, deciding his neediness will have to wait for now.

Bidding you good night is harder than usual tonight, but he knows you need to get to sleep—you mentioned you had an early class and he had his own, so his selfish urge to keep you talking until he came in his hand would, unfortunately, need to take a raincheck.

After logging off of his computer, Jisung drops his head into his hands with a sigh.

What the fuck even was that? 

A mix of shame and arousal take over him as his cheeks begin glowing a deep shade of red. He lets out a small scoff, shaking his head to himself as he gets up from his chair. His dick is still as hard as a rock, and he can’t help but feel flustered at the fact that he has, quite literally, blue-balled himself. 

With a towel swung over his shoulder and a clean pair of sleeping shorts clutched in his fist, Jisung walks up to the dorm’s nearest communal bathroom. He turns on the faucet, freeing himself of his clothes. The moment his boxers come down past his thighs, his length slaps against the skin below his navel, making him hiss out as he steps into the shower. The cold water, running down against his heated body, seems to be doing the trick of clearing his mind, that is, until his hands find their way to his stomach, rubbing the soap over it.

It’s so hard to expel the thoughts of you when they’re so intrusive and tempting, and Jisung lets his mind drift off once more, imagining how it would feel to be touched by you, sucked by you. All the soft noises you would make are weirdly familiar; he can practically hear them. His head falls back, lips caught between his teeth as he twitches and gives himself an experimental stroke, shuddering as his thumb glides across the slit of his sensitive tip. He clenches his eyes shut tighter, letting out a shaky sigh and letting the water continue to trickle down his body. He doesn’t know what you look like, other than your hair color which you mentioned the other day. Despite that, he still tries desperately to piece an image of you together behind his eyelids, picturing what your lips are like. And just like that, thoughts of you flood him, and he shudders at the vision of you on your knees, looking up at him with big, innocent eyes, begging to taste him and take all of him. He longs to feel you swallow around him—to grab either side of your face and thrust into your needy mouth until the tears slip from your eyes and your pussy is dripping from the need to be fucked.  

Getting lost in the moment, he doesn’t even realize how loud he’s becoming and how fast his fist is working his dick. Jisung's highly anticipated release is only seconds away when a loud knock startles him, lunging him right back into his body.

“Yo, man! How long are you gonna take in there?” His friend and next door neighbor, Mark, shouts from the other side of the door, knocking again and ruining Jisung’s fantasy once and for all. 

The boy takes a moment to clear his throat and swallow, not trusting his voice to not crack otherwise, “Uh.. Sorry. I’ll just be a minute.” 

It takes everything in him to slow his hand to a stop and pry it off of his shaft, deciding that perhaps, he shouldn’t entertain his filthy thoughts any longer. He quickly finishes showering with another unnecessary interruption from Mark, then drags himself back to his room and gets into his bed, forcing his eyes shut in an attempt to sleep. The longer he lies there, however, the more restless he grows. 

His dick feels sore to the touch and it’s driving him absolutely crazy. Every time he adjusts his shorts or moves his legs, his balls throb from how full they are. Knowing he has class to get to the following day, he tries to convince himself that maybe he needs a release to get to sleep. It’ll tire him out, and then finally, he’ll be able to get some rest���There’s at least a bit of logic to that theory, or that’s what he tells himself, anyway. 

Against his better judgment that pleads with him to just shut his eyes and count sheep, Jisung huffs out and slips his hands into his shorts to begin touching himself for the nth time tonight. This whole time, he had been unknowingly edging himself and now he’s so, so undeniably and incredibly desperate to cum that it literally hurts. 

His free hand brings his phone up and unlocks it, thumb swiping quickly in search of the discord app where your contact resides, the little green bubble next to it signifying that you’re still online. He hovers over the call button, taunting himself with the idea of making a call to you at this time. One little click, and he’d hear your voice again. Just one click and he-

sung ᨐฅ started a call. Today at 11:54 AM

Shit, shit, shit. 

He rushes to hang up, but you’ve answered no more than a ring later. 

“Hello?” 

Jisung holds his rather unsteady breath, staring wide-eyed at his phone. His dick pulses in his palm that now rests still. 

“Sung?” 

As gently as possible, he lays the phone down on his puffed up chest, letting out his breath slowly so that you don’t hear him.

“I’m gonna assume you called me by accident… ” you sigh out in disappointment, growing quiet in uncertainty. For a second, Jisung is convinced you’re gonna hang up, but when you stay on the line, he peers down at the screen curiously. 

Your icon lights up green and there’s some shuffling on your end, presumably from you getting comfortable in bed. 

He hears you yawn and smiles fondly. 

“I’m tired,” you mumble, “are you asleep? I was actually excited that you called. Maybe it’s my fucked up schedule… or, maybe I’m just dreading tomorrow, but I couldn’t sleep. I don’t know…” 

You’re speaking slower and quieter than usual, but you’re speaking, completely oblivious of the fact that he’s thinking of the dirtiest things that involve you, getting off while you think he’s sound asleep. 

“It’s always easier to sleep once we’ve talked so,” you pause, then sigh out jokingly, “I guess I'll just talk your unconscious ear off until I fall asleep…You don’t mind, right?”

God, no, he thinks.  

Jisung silently celebrates your decision with a pump of his hand, shuffling a bit to get comfortable as you go on about genshin and cats and other things he can barely pay mind to. It takes no more than a few strokes, shallow ones where he caresses the angry head of his dick to the velvety sound of your slurred and drowsy mumbling, for him to bring himself to come so fucking hard. 

His knees lock as his cock springs up in his clutched palm, spewing streams of white cum all over his stomach, chest, and thighs. The muscles on his abdomen ache from the way they contract, eyes and jaw shutting tightly as he challenges himself to remain quiet. The sheets aren’t spared from his thick load either, his nut dripping down the sides of his tummy to make dark, round puddles on his bed. His toes curl as he tries his hardest to not gasp out when the pleasure dissolves into sensitivity, digging his head back into the pillow with a hand clasped over his lips. 

A few minutes later, the blurriness in his vision is relieved, along with the ringing in his ears. You’ve stopped talking; instead, the receiver picks up your short and shallow breaths, as if you’ve fallen asleep with your mouth open. Cute.  

As he assesses the aftermath of his much needed release, he wishes he could snap a picture and send it to you, so that you’d wake up knowing this pathetic mess he made was all for you, because of you.

Alas, he can’t, and he hangs up once he’s completely sure you’re resting. With his eyelids feeling much heavier than before, he manages to toss his phone onto the nightstand before he, too, drifts off to sleep.

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

The following morning, Jisung wakes up in a bit of a panic. The first thing that throws him for a loop is the fact that his alarm didn’t go off at all. He quickly realizes he forgot to set it amidst the activities of the night before. The second thing that strikes him is his own hand that rests on his stomach, stuck in some kind of damp, sticky liquid. In his half-conscious state, he lifts his fingers and his puffy eyes widen as he identifies the clear fluid that decorates his tummy as his drying release from the night before. 

“Ugh…” He grimaces, sitting up in his bed. His phone, which is less than half full of battery since he forgot to plug it in, blinks back the numbers 8:38 at him. Jisung’s eyes widen as he remembers that his first class of the day, of the semester, is at 9. 

“Fuck!” In a flash, his blanket is flung off of him and his legs are swinging over the edge of the bed. He moves to grab some tissues from his nightstand, making aggressively desperate attempts at wiping away his cum. When the Kleenex sticks to him instead, he digs around his drawers for a pack of wet wipes, snatching a pair of pants off of the floor at the same time and practically yanking them up his legs. 

Despite almost falling over, he manages to get them on and clean off his torso… for the most part. A random sweatshirt is tugged on over his head and he runs his hand through his hair a few times to tidy it before passively telling his reflection, this will do. 

Moments later, he’s rushing downstairs and outside of the dormitory with his unzipped backpack hung over his shoulder. He rushes to unlock his bike, cursing as he fumbles with the keys. Once he’s on, he starts pedaling to the Science building on the other side of campus, heavily dreading checking the time in fear it’ll read some absurd number and he’ll wind up being much later than he anticipates.

The breath that’s been caught in his throat all morning is only released when he steps through the door of the lecture room to see that the professor hasn’t walked in yet, and that the clock reads that he’s 6 minutes early.

Finally slowing his rushed pace, Jisung does a quick once over the room to scan the faces of his fellow students before taking his seat somewhere near the back. Thanking the heavens that his notebook and textbook didn’t go tumbling out of his bag in the midst of his previous hurry, he tugs them out, flipping them open and writing the date on the first page. His laptop, which is where he had planned to take notes on, sits in his dorm room where he left it on his desk. Everyone else has theirs out, but he’ll just have to bring his own next time. 

There’s a distant click, and the door on the lowest level of the lecture hall opens. Through it walks a relatively tall and slender lady, heels echoing rhythmically as she strides over to set her dark bag down by the podium. Her hair is tied back high and tight, so much so, that all of her features look like they're blending into her hairline. She looks like she’s somewhere in her mid-to-late fifties, and from the instant she walked in, the entire class went silent.

She clearly has a presence that commands attention and undoubtedly, she fits the visual profile of a strict college professor quite well, especially when she picks up the chalk and scribbles her surname onto the green chalkboard beside the larger projector screen.

“I’m Professor Hwang. Welcome to AST1002, also known as Descriptive Astronomy. If you’re here, that means you took AST1001 with Mr. Kwon last year. He has since transferred to a different department.” 

There’s no audible response, although some disappointment does flash across the faces of the students in the room, all of whom did have (and seemingly would miss) Mr. Kwon. Professor Hwang doesn’t seem to notice the lack of responses, and continues speaking as she pulls some papers out.

“Firstly, I’ll take attendance. Then, I’ll pass the syllabus around. I would like for you to note,” she pauses to place a pair of red glasses high on the bridge of her nose, “that attendance is mandatory for my class, and worth 20% of your grade. I’ll go over pop quizzes and weekly quizzes, as well as the initial class project, when each of you have a copy of the syllabus. That being said, I look forward to seeing you all here every class. Please call out when you hear your name.” 

As she starts to take attendance, Jisung takes the time to sigh into his hands, both exhausted and dreading the fact that he’d have to spend three days out of the week rotting in a lecture hall to attend a class he expected to be fun, or at the very least a break from his much more difficult core classes. By the looks of it, that’s no longer the plan. 

It’s easy to zone out quickly while his mind is still foggy, no doubt from the lack of sleep and the subsequent abrupt awakening that followed. He had just begun an attempt to read the syllabus when something made his ears perk. 

Immediately, his head snaps up in pursuit of a soft and airy voice that just responded to Professor Hwang. It’s so quick and in passing that he almost thinks he might have imagined it in his delirious state, but the way the hair on his limbs stands on end is unmistakable. His eyes dart around the room, hitting his classmate’s heads like targets, but there’s absolutely no way to identify the individual who just spoke. 

Could it be… No. No way. 

Jisung is no stranger to daydreaming about you, but he isn’t completely delusional. He knows the chances of being not only in the same city, but the same university and class as you are absolutely slim to none, so he stops that train of thought dead in its tracks. 

It does segway him into thinking of you, though. You’re obviously not here, so he wonders instead what class you are in at the moment. He tries to picture what you’re wearing on your first day of class, trusting you look more put together than him in his old hoodie that is slightly sticking to the dry cum on his stomach. Do you like your classmates? Your professor? He sincerely hopes you have a more tolerable one than he does. 

“Park Jisung?” 

With a slight cough, he spits out a weak “h-here.” and instantly grimaces, raising his shoulders autonomously as if he would get scolded for stammering so pathetically. The professor, to his relief, doesn’t even glance up from the roster. Then, he feels quite silly for even thinking he would get reproached for that to begin with. In his defense, she’s a rather intimidating woman, and his inner monologue is so loud and flooded with thoughts of you that he fears she may have heard it. 

She finishes calling for attendance, resorting to striding up and down the aisles as she begins to dissect the syllabus. In an effort to pretend he’s paying attention, Jisung glances down at the size twelve font on the page, skimming over the words without really taking anything in. During one of the professor’s paces, a pen she had resting on her ear slips and falls towards the ground with a slight clatter, and it seems a student picked it up for her, because there’s a slight mumbling, followed by a sharp “thank you,” and a very, very recognizable,

“You’re welcome, Professor.” 

His eyes widen at once. Alright, call him crazy, but now he thinks that it really might have been your voice. The familiar timbre, warm and delicate; a sound he’s heard for months on end and knows embarrassingly well… The thought of being in the same room as you out of sheer luck and coincidence makes his abdomen twist and his palms sweat so bad, he has to wipe them on his pants.

He hates that he can’t fully tell, in fact, he’s almost ashamed that he can’t; before today, Jisung would have sworn up and down that he knew your voice better than even his own, but you sound so far and so quiet that he can’t completely bet all of his marbles. Then, he quickly realizes calling it ‘your voice’ definitely makes him sound delusional, even in the safety of his own forgiving conscience. He decides to call it ‘the voice’ for now, at least until he’s a hundred-percent sure. 

An irritatingly long hour and half later, the only sound that continues to ring around the lecture hall is Professor Hwang’s monotone one, reciting each and every itemized assignment and rule on the never-ending syllabus. There’s less than fifteen minutes until class is over, and she shows no signs of stopping her dissertation. 

“As for the class project: In pairs of two, you will research a constellation extensively to create a presentation on its formation, who cataloged it, and the Greek myth that may accompany it. Please note that this is the first and last time we will talk about constellations in this class, since they are not cosmic phenomenons but instead, a mere roadmap to the objects and themes we will be focusing on. Consider this strictly as an opportunity to familiarize yourselves with another classmate and show me your interest and effort in the subject. That concludes our syllabus,” Thank God, Jisung thinks. 

 “Any questions?” She glances around at a hand that floats in the air, near the front of the room, “yes?” 

“Will we be able to select our partners?” 

“No. Partners will be assigned at the end of the week. Yes?” She calls on another hand. 

“As for the constellations,” Wait, that’s it! That’s the voice—that’s your voice, he’s completely sure of it!  “Will you assign those as well?” 

Jisung elongates his neck to try and peek over the heads in his way. It is you, he’s positive now, but you’re turned away from him, and he can’t fully make out which ‘back of the head’ is your ‘back of the head.’ The echo in the hall makes it nearly impossible to pinpoint who just spoke which means he can’t pinpoint you. For some reason, he finds himself slightly panicking, desperate to finally see you in person.

He follows Professor Hwang's line of sight as she answers that she’ll assign the constellations on Friday too, and finally finds you, seated between a few other students. A few more questions are thrown around, but his eyes never leave you, anticipating the moment he catches a glimpse of your face. 

Naturally, his first instinct is to approach you as soon as class is out, but when he sees you spin around to pick up your bag that hangs off your chair, he finds himself glued to his own flimsy seat. Feet stuck to the ground, legs not budging, and air hitched in his throat at the sight of you. 

You’re so, so much prettier than he could have imagined with whatever unoriginal features he tried to piece together in his lacking mind, and that fact makes him both exhilarated and completely nauseous. 

He’s barely been looking at you for a few seconds when he feels his insatiable cock growing fast in the confines of his pants, with no regard for its owner and the fact that he has to stand up within the next minute or so to exit the hall. Jisung curses under his breath, awkwardly rising to his feet when most of his classmates leave, his bag clutched tightly in front of his groin. He prays you don’t glance over, not even because he has a semi-hard on he’s failing to hide with dissimulation, but because he’s staring at you like some sort of freak and can’t seem to look away. 

There’s nothing he wants more than to come up to you and say hi and confess he’s the person you’ve been gaming with for months. He’s pictured it countless times before, you’d think he’d have it down by now, but your beauty is intimidating, and he simply cannot and will not make a fool of himself in front of you by greeting you with a raging boner. 

You walk out of the classroom and Jisung’s heart settles in his chest as he sits with his decision to stay anonymous for now. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

“She was obnoxious, you have no idea!” 

“My teacher wasn’t much different,” he admits, a small, knowing smile toying at his lips, “she seemed like a real bitch,” 

It’s later that same evening, and talking to you doesn’t really feel the same anymore. It’s much harder, because now, Jisung can vividly picture you, sitting in your chair with your hands on your keyboard and mouse. Every word you say, his imagination is right thereafter, picturing your pretty face clear as day in the forefront of his mind. 

The moment he got home, he fucked his fist until he came in his hand. It took about five minutes, and then he pumped another one out in the shower, (a much needed shower, at that) where he finally washed away the remains of the night before. 

After he had lunch with Mark and the other boys from his floor, they had invited him to play basketball. At the same time, however, he received a direct message from you, explaining you didn’t have any other classes for the day and asking if he could get on earlier. 

It’s a little ridiculous, but now that he’s seen you, now that he knows you’re so much closer than he initially thought, he can’t wait to talk to you again. And so he quickly came up with an empty excuse related to his studies, took the berating from his friends like a champ, and rushed upstairs to log into his PC and open up your chat. 

“Not only do we already have a project, but we don’t even get to pick our partners.” 

I know! He thinks. 

“Like,” you start, and he pictures the way your cheeks fill up with air as you let out a huff, “what if I get stuck with some weirdo?” 

Instantly, Jisung stops palming himself, letting his hand climb back up to the mouse slowly.

He probably shouldn’t let that innocent statement affect him as much as it does, but he can’t help it. He has the advantage, right? Or, at least it seems that way. 

When everything is laid out, he has the upperhand of knowing who you are—you haven’t seen him, yet… but what if you did see him, and he wasn’t at all what you were expecting? Or even worse, what if you got paired together for the project and you thought he was weird or the two of you didn’t get along? That option is far less likely, since there are well over fifty students in AST1002. 

“I don’t know,” you start, “I’m considering switching out of the class-” 

“No!” Wow. Good going, Jisung.

He catches his slip-up and quickly blurts out, “I-I mean, it might not be that bad! You should… at least give it a shot before you try to switch out, right?” 

“I guess you’re right… The add and drop period at my school is until next Friday, so I'll try it out until then.” 

Great! Perfect! Good save. The only problem now is: Jisung has a little over a week and a half to somehow convince you to stay in his class and at the same time, not completely butcher his introduction to you. Approaching you now seems practically impossible, but he needs you to stay in the class, even if it means he has to come up to you first. He can’t be bothered to care that his insistence is for his own selfish intentions, if it means getting to see you three times a week. 

“But anyway,” he clears his throat, changing the topic as quickly as possible, “how did your other class go?” 

“Much better than the first, the teacher let us out early once he covered the books we’d be analyzing this semester and attendance isn’t mandatory since most of the material is online or in the library. I think I’ll swing by there one of these days to see if I can get ahead on some of the assignments.” 

“Oh, so you’re a nerd?” You gasp and smack his character in-game a few times. He laughs, calling out, “okay, okay, truce! You’re not a nerd then, just an overachiever.”

“How so?” 

“We’re barely a day into the semester and you’re already trying your homework that I’m sure isn’t due for at least a few weeks,” 

You roll your eyes, knowing he’s right. With a bit of playful flirtation twisted into your tone, you hum out, “What can I say? I like to please.” 

One of his eyebrows perks up, “is that right?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He can hear your smirk through the screen, and now, he can vividly picture it, too. 

Jisung scoffs, backing away from your character so that he’s out of your sight. He cowers into a corner in game;  this way, you don’t notice how he stops moving when his left hand leaves the w,a,s,d keys to cup and rub his needy bulge. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

Wednesday’s class is somehow packed and entirely uneventful at the same time. The first of Professor Hwang’s dragging lectures is so loaded that Jisung actually thanks the heavens that he remembered to bring his laptop. Otherwise, his notebook would have been about halfway full already, and his hand? It would have fallen off. 

On another relevant note, he’s struggling to stay focused because today, he is sitting much closer to you. Intentionally, of course. There’s still a few rows between him and you, but in this new seat, he can glance at you as often as he’d like without straining his eyes or stretching out his neck to make his gawking painfully obvious. He can clearly make out your smooth skin, along with other details he wasn’t able to notice before like your beauty marks and your dainty earrings. You’re paying unfaltering attention to the class for the first hour, but after the sixty-minute mark, you appear to have become bored. He catches the way your pencil starts doodling along the corners of your notebook and it takes everything in him not to snort when you scribble down a wonky looking cat. 

He’s so distracted by you, that every couple of slides, he glances back to the projector to see that the class is now on an entirely different topic than the one he last managed to jot down. He doesn’t mind, though. You’re a much more enthralling sight than quasars and supernovas. 

Halfway through the lesson, you decide to peel off your little black cardigan and hang it on the back of your chair, exposing your arms and neck and shoulders to him. Your hair is tied up neatly right after, giving him all the more to gawk at and envision. Jisung has to remind himself that he’s in a classroom just so that he doesn’t start fantasizing about how it would feel to grip your hair up in a similar fashion and fill your throat up with his dick.

With great difficulty, he directs his focus to the board instead, typing quickly into his laptop all the notes he manages to catch before the slide changes again and Professor Hwang’s narrow eyes can scan the room to see who’s paying attention. 

When the class is over, you start talking with the girl next to you, aimlessly reaching back for your bag. The gesture makes your cardigan fall, and Jisung has to fully bite his tongue to keep himself from calling out your name and giving himself away. He waits to see if you’ll notice, or if someone nearby will alert you, but neither one happens. Instead, you stand up, still engrossed in your conversation, and make your way towards the door. Instantly, he jogs down the aisle and between the seats to grab it and wordlessly hand it to you, but by the time he makes a move to head in your direction, you’ve already left. 

He feels disappointed at first, but the feeling quickly shifts into relief. Wordlessly hand it to you? Does he want your first impression of him to be awkward and borderline rude? No and definitely no. This problem has a simple solution—it’s a blessing in disguise; he’ll take your cardigan home and bring it to you on Friday and maybe, if his courage allows, he can introduce himself then. 

“Hey! I noticed you left your sweater here last class. I brought it for you. Oh, and by the way, it’s me! I’m @sung.ie. How did I know it was you? I can recognize your voice across a huge lecture hall.”

Yeah… he’ll think more on that later. 

With your cardigan clutched in his fist, Jisung sighs, making his way outside and towards his bicycle. He tucks the clothing item into his backpack and pedals back home, wondering how he’s going to manage to give it back to you since you always get to and leave class before him.  

He knows some of his friends and dorm-mates have their own class today, they had exchanged schedules during lunch a few days ago, which leaves him to hope and pray you’ve decided to skip your class and get online. As he parks his bicycle downstairs and locks it, he slips his phone from his pocket and opens discord, but your bubble remains gray and cold. You’re offline. 

Maybe you haven’t gotten home yet. He checks his phone again when he gets upstairs, and again when he goes inside his dorm, tossing his bag aside and crashing on his bed. He checks after losing a round of candy crush, and again after replying to a text from his mom. 

By the looks of it, you were in class, or at the very least, not available for the moment. Jisung sighs, pretending he’s not actually as disappointed as he feels. It seems a bit dramatic to feel the need to kill time until he gets to talk to you again so he resorts to doing physics homework—a short baseline his teacher assigned that wouldn’t be graded—and tricking his brain into thinking the former is not what he’s actually doing. 

When he pulls his bag off his desk chair to grab his laptop, your cardigan comes into view, and he pauses to look at it. He sits like this for a moment, wondering if he should fold it nicely on his dresser so he can remember to take it to you, but his hands act before his mind can catch up, reaching in and basically shoving the material toward his face. 

With his nose buried in your scent, Jisung inhales deeply, sinking into his chair as his legs grow weaker. The trace of your floral softener is the first aroma he gets, and then, the smell of your perfume peeks through, soft and sweet and very fitting for you. Once more, his treacherous hands are acting for themselves and he’s suddenly undoing his belt single-handedly. 

Once his dick, growing by the minute, is out and clutched in his palm, he finally retracts your sweater. With little hesitation, he wraps it around his erection and pumps once, throwing his head back in immediate relief.

It’s a fucking miracle that his room is the last one at the end of the hall, and that his next door neighbors, Renjun and Jaemin, are both in their afternoon lectures, because nothing would have been able to muffle the wanton moan that rips from his chest as he strokes himself with your scent. His hips are bucking up into the air, and in only a few minutes, he’s broken a slight sweat. His balls tighten from sheer sensitivity at the act of fucking something directly related to you. 

A cry of your name, followed by a few more pumps and he’s coming inside your mangled cardigan, his white release breaching the thin material. It seeps through it like light through a veil, gathering thickly on top before spreading into a dark, wet patch. There’s a shudder that passes through his bones as he sits back, burying his cock into the fabric and keeping it there until he’s given up every last drop. 

The only thing that snaps him from his post-nut bliss, is the distinct discord ring-tone that blasts through his headset. His computer monitor turns on as your icon appears and simultaneously, his heart and dick both twitch. 

“Hello?” With his output device swung over his head, he presses the green ‘answer’ button and speaks into the mic, hiding his slight shortness of breath with a yawn. 

“I’m so glad you answered,” you beam, and he does too, “I was worried I had called while you were in class or something,” 

As he speaks, he wipes the remnants of his cum off with your cardigan and puts it aside on his desk, tucking his softening (and still very sensitive) dick away into his boxers, “No, you’re good. I had a class earlier today but now I’m free.” 

“What a relief,” you sigh, “Would you want to have a little homework ‘sesh’ with me? I just found out the library doesn’t have any available labs. I doubt I’ll be able to concentrate much with you but at least I'll be in good company.”

“Like an e-date?” 

“We can call it that,” you grin, then he pictures your expression becoming a gloom one to match your slightly sadder tone as you admit, “Sometimes I wish we went to the same school so we could meet up and study at a coffee shop.” 

He snorts, unable to help but crack a joke, “Like a real date?” 

Your laugh makes his heart swell slightly. When you reply, “Maybe,” it starts flipping wildly in his chest. 

God, you can’t even begin to imagine how badly he wants that. 

“That would be nice,” he agrees humbly, a blush creeping on his cheeks. “What class are you gonna study for?” 

There’s a pause before you speak again where you hum in thought, flipping through a few pages and shuffling through your bag. Jisung joins you, grabbing his laptop and school supplies, “I have a project for my astronomy class. It’s related to constellations and I wanna start researching them so that I can make an outline for the assignment,” 

He looks through his math notes with his brows furrowed down, “I thought she was gonna assign them on Friday?” 

Your icon flickers as you reply, “She is, but I want to—wait. How did you know that?” At your words and the realization of his untimely slip up, Jisung’s body goes rigid. He can only imagine the confusion on your features, and he’s quite relieved you can’t see the look on his. If his eyes were to open any wider, he’s sure they might just slip out of his head. 

“Oh, um,” he clears his throat mechanically, then gulps in an effort to lubricate it and keep his voice steady, assertive, certain. “You mentioned it on Monday, remember?” 

“Did I?” You didn’t, but he really hopes you think you did. “Probably,” At that, he lets out the air he’s holding, shaking his head slightly at himself for being so careless. 

“But um, yeah,” he starts before you can give it any further thought, “If she’s assigning them Friday why are you working on it today?” 

“Cause she’s also assigning partners on Friday, and I don’t really know anyone besides the girl who sits next to me and I doubt I’ll get paired with her. I want to make sure my grade is secured, you know? I’ve never liked group projects. I feel like all the work gets dumped on me.” 

He’s still not entirely sure what you mean to do, or how you intend to create a blueprint of sorts without knowing what it was for, and so he stops flicking through his page of notes to look up at his monitor and ask, “But if you don’t know which constellation you’re gonna work on, how are you gonna make an outline?” 

You ponder his question for a moment, then mumble out, “She didn’t mention a rubric or anything, so I figured that as long as I plan out the different sections and give the project a structure, half of the work is cut out, right? I can just assign parts at that point.” 

“You’re that kinda person in a group project? I’m sorry to whoever gets partnered with you,” He’s not sorry, not at all. He’s rather envious, actually, despite his attempts to sound indifferent or amusing. Being granted time to spend with you at your place or his, or at the library or the local campus cafe, would be a no less than perfect ice breaker. Jisung would make sure you never felt like all the research and assembling depended solely on you—in fact, he could see himself now, spending countless hours perfecting the details of his assigned part and inquiring about other suggestions to improve the project, just to impress you or at the very least, satisfy you. The reality that someone else would get to do all of that in his place is disheartening. 

You guys had rarely ever talked about school before now, since neither of you actually were enrolled in any classes when you started chatting, but now that it’s relevant, he feels like he understands a whole different side of you. You’re organized, and obviously very studious. Hell, you’ve been itching to get started on assignments that haven’t even been assigned yet. You’re responsible, dependable, funny, beautiful, and every time he thinks of you lately, he realizes that his innocent crush is slowly becoming an insatiable one.   

“Hey! I’d be very nice if it was you, you know. Show you some favoritism,” the corners of his lips twitch upwards—“But I’m also glad it’s not you,”—and fall down again. 

“What? Why?” He tries to not sound too offended. 

“I’d end up talking your ear off, Sung.” 

“I’m already used to that, don’t mind it. Kinda like it, actually.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” He nods curtly, even though there’s a monitor and an entire school campus between you and him and he knows you have no way of seeing his gesture. There's a moment of silence that you spend taking a brief breath as a glow tinges your cheeks. 

With a stifled laugh, you open your mouth again, “I think it’s just because you like me that you tolerate my rambling,” 

“No.” He’s quick to clarify, “I really do like it.” He loves it. 

“And me?” your voice is much quieter, almost giving the impression that you’re shy in asking something so decisive and direct. Jisung, emboldened by your vulnerability, and the distance the screen puts between you two, answers with certainty. 

“I like you, too.” 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

 “The constellation project, as I mentioned during your first class, is a tool for you to acquaint yourself with your classmates. It will be due in 3 weeks, and you can check the syllabus for specifications regarding that. After today, there will be no changing partners or constellations so should you need any changes to be made, you have until class is dismissed. Listen closely as I read out the pairs for the project. I will not repeat myself.” 

The sharp tone he’s growing more and more distaste for by the day drowns out as Jisung glances over at you. Today, you’re sporting a bone-colored long sleeve and corduroy pants with half of your hair held back in a shiny clip. You look ravishing. Truthfully, he can’t really tell if you’re wearing makeup or not—although he concludes it doesn’t matter. Your features are soft and pretty nonetheless, and your cheeks have turned rosy from the dropping autumn temperatures. 

“Yu Karina will be partnered with Lee Heesung. Your constellation is Cassiopeia.”

When you walked into the lecture hall this morning, there was a hot coffee cup with the campus cafe’s logo on it clutched in your hands, which you sipped on while shivering. Taking your usual seat, you greeted the girl next to you, who Jisung now knew was called Yu Karina. 

The dark haired girl perked up when Professor Hwang called her name and waved down the aisle at who he can only assume is Lee Heesung, her partner, then whispered something to you. You looked over at the boy and back at Karina, nodding and giggling with her. 

“Jennifer Huh, partnered with Ning Yizhuo,” Professor Hwang referenced her other list, “Constellation: Cancer.” 

The two girls greet each other with a look and a smile, but Jisung pays little mind. He’s listening intently—for the first time—in anticipation of hearing one of your names be called. He doesn’t exactly know your full name, only a nickname he refers to you as, the one attached to your discord handle. Otherwise, pinpointing you that first day of class would’ve been much easier. 

“Park Jay and Lee Sohee, your constellation is Orion.” 

Sitting there, he realizes that in all the months you’ve talked, he’s never once asked for your full first name. Is that strange? What kind of friend is he if he doesn’t even know your name? In all fairness, you never asked for his, either, so he supposes it’s okay. Would have been useful to know, though, at times like this. 

After his small confession of ‘like’ on Wednesday, the two of you went on studying your respective subjects, with the occasional (and inevitable) distraction here and there. Admittedly, he thought his comment would be forgotten rather quickly. It wasn’t like he outwardly poured his heart out to you, so he figured you’d move on and just crack a joke or two about it later. There was a change, though; a strikingly obvious one to Jisung, who hangs on your every word like it’s a tether that keeps him from floating. And, even if he didn’t pay such close attention to you, there’s no way he could have missed the new flirtatious ambiance that flourished afterwards. Flirting with you is not uncommon by any means—the two of you playfully tease each other with frequency, but it’s nothing he’d allow himself to look into too much, for his own sake. 

That changed in the hours following his comments. All of Wednesday evening, the two of you went back and forth, feeding each other compliments in the form of banter. Again, he thought it would end there, but on Thursday afternoon when you logged on, he asked how your progress was going with the outline, to which you texted back, “I was thinking of you all day. Didn’t get around to doing much else.” 

It wasn’t the only message from you that nurtured his feelings, either. There were enough substantially flirty messages from your conversation that night, that he was able to scroll through them and reread them a few times before bed. 

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 6:49PM

hi did you smile when you saw my name pop up on your phone just now

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 8:22 PM

you’re so cute

i can barely think 

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 9:14 PM

i feel like my day doesn’t make sense if we don’t talk 

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 10:58 PM

i should get to sleep 

but i don’t wanna stop texting you

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 12:02 AM

goodnight, sung <3 miss you til’ you’re back

Now, as he eyes you with a boyish, lovesick gaze, watching you doodle your stupid little drawings as you await your assignment, he finds himself praying for the courage to come up to you after class.

Professor Hwang calls your name next, something he only realizes at the fitting similarity of your nickname and the way your pen meets the table in alert to being called on, head lifting up and eyes blinking expectantly. 

“Your partner will be,” 

Jisung holds his breath, chanting in his head ‘please, oh, please let it be me,’

 “Lee Chan.” 

Wishful thinking never got anyone anywhere, then. He ignores the way his heart sinks into the pits of his stomach, unable to help but observe your curious gaze as it looks around the filled seats. For a fleeting moment, you meet his eyes, but he doesn’t react or claim to be Lee Chan who you so evidently are in search of, and so you pass him and keep studying the aisles. After a few seconds, you find no one gazing back, even after you slightly stand to peer above the nearby heads that obscure your view. 

“Your constellation is-” 

With a cautious raise of your hand, you interrupt Professor Hwang gently, “Excuse me, Professor, but I don’t think my partner is here.” 

For a moment, her lazer-like gaze looks like it could light you on fire, a consequence of daring to interrupt her, but it softens only slightly as she realizes the truth in your statement, scanning the room herself and calling out for the missing boy. Upon receiving no call back, she thinks for a moment, then looks back down at her clipboard and crosses something out. 

“I did mention attendance was mandatory, didn’t I?” This she mutters to herself, “No matter. Instead, you’ll work with,” she gives the paper another once over, then clicks her pen and speaks, “Park Jisung.” 

In an awkward burst of both excitement and confusion, Jisung darts out of his chair. His knee hits his desk with a clang, and his laptop would have gone flying if it wasn’t for his quick hands that catch it before it can fall. The loud ruckus turns several heads in his direction, including Professor Hwang’s and more importantly, yours. 

Feeling an awful lot like a deer caught in headlights, Jisung blinks as the two of you make eye-contact, then he takes his seat again, very quickly by the way. “Uh, that’s me,” he announces, heat spreading across his face and eyes darting around, “Sorry.” 

Does he feel more sorry to his teacher and classmates for disrupting the classroom, or to himself and you for the absolute fool he has just made of himself? As much as he’d like to tear his gaze away from yours and cast it to the ground in embarrassment, it remains stuck on you, awaiting your impending reaction. 

You’re rather unsure how to feel, though given, a little surprised at the commotion. You offer him a small smile through pursed lips, and Jisung nods, willing with all his might for a hole to open in the ground beneath him and swallow him.  

“Thank you, Mr. Park, for your remarkably clear confirmation. Your constellation is Gemini.” 

You turn in your chair to face the front again, scribbling down his name in the corner of your notebook, as well as the constellation you’d been assigned.

“He’s cute,” Karina comments to you as you look over at her, and you finally let out a small laugh you had been holding in. 

“He is. Clumsy,” you snort, “but cute.” 

“We both got cute partners. We should meet up at the library later and all get started on the project together,” 

You nod enthusiastically, going back to your outline that sits at the ready on your laptop screen and making quick work of labeling the different sections evenly. If it wasn’t so obvious for you to spin around and steal a glance, you might have done so again. You’re certainly tempted to, thinking back to seconds ago and realizing you hadn’t really noticed him the last two classes. 

Jisung watches your exchange with his dignity at serious risk. He’s entirely unable to hear or make out what you’re saying to each other, and it makes his pulse pick up and his mind race. He considers many things as he watches the two of you talk: firstly, asking to change his partner, but then realizing that would be an awful idea. Once you knew who he was, how would you ever forgive him for immediately ditching you? Absolutely not. Cowering had gotten him nowhere so far. 

Then, he considers switching out of the class himself, and disappearing, never to reveal himself to you—but that wasn’t the right thing to do either. Incapable of checking out of your life so quickly and denying himself the treat that is seeing you three times a week (and now, possibly more), he cans that idea, too. 

As Professor Hwang finishes reading off the list of names, he begins planning what he’ll actually say to you, as that conversation is just minutes away. There’s less than a half-hour left of class, which means he has to think hard and fast. 

As he busies himself with the grueling task of picking an appropriate and redeeming introduction, he doesn’t hear the new instructions from Professor Hwang, which are to find your partner and begin brainstorming, as well as exchanging schedules to set aside time outside of class to work on the presentation. A shadow falls over his desk and consumes his work space in darkness. When his curiously squinted eyes trail up to find the source, only to land on you, hovering above him with your things clutched in your arms, he grips his seat to keep from jumping out of it for the second time today. 

“Is this seat taken?” 

So much for having time to figure out how to approach you. His heart does a leap of surprise in his chest in place of his physical body, and he resists the urge to clutch it.

“No.” He replies shortly. 

With your unfaltering, kind smile still present on your face, you laugh softly and place your things down, introducing yourself. 

“You’re Ji-sun, right?” 

“—Sung.” he politely corrects you. When you don’t immediately react, he wonders if you had even heard him. He doesn’t put it past himself to have imagined that he replied to you, between his sweating palms and nervous jittering, and your pretty self sitting just a foot away, he’s barely keeping it together.  After a moment that feels infinitely longer than it actually is, you raise your eyebrows slightly, round lips parted to ask your question with a palpable hesitance. 

“W-what?” 

“Jisung,” he quickly replies, pronouncing the ‘g’ clearly and masking the way his eyes widen with a heavy blink that honestly, may not serve as any better of a guise. He pleads with himself to get his shit together but luckily, you don’t seem to notice. 

“Oh, sorry… Sorry, It’s just—nevermind. Hi, Jisung.” 

“Hi, Y/N.” He savors the way your name feels on his tongue but keeps his enjoyment brief. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” you start, lifting the screen of your laptop to reveal the very same outline you had started working on during your last call with him, “but I already made an outline. If you wanna scrap it and start all over, we can—” 

“No, It’s fine, we can use this,” when you give him an unsure look, he smiles reassuringly, “It looks brilliant.” 

“Thank you.” There’s a pause that is filled only by you clearing your throat, “Ok, I have a literature class right after this one on Mondays and Wednesdays. The rest of my classes are online, so I’m free at any time, really. I usually like to study at the computer labs in the library, it’s nice and private there and I find it much easier to focus. But if you don’t want to go there, we could always go to the cafe or the square for some fresh air. Oh, and either one of our dorm rooms works fine if you’re okay-” 

To experience your presence on a phone call is one thing, but to experience it in real life, with your clear voice so arresting and your silky, smooth lips within reach, is absolutely mesmerizing. He’s fighting the urge to glance down at your mouth, but it’s becoming increasingly harder to sustain eye contact, as lovely as he decides your eyes are. Another thing that is becoming exponentially harder, and more sensitive all the same, is his cock, springing to life with an eagerness to greet you. 

There’s a bit of panic that flashes across his features as he senses the strain it’s causing in his pants, and only when you look down at your outline does he dare to sneak a glance down at his own groin where as expected, a noticeable imprint was beginning to develop. In a desperate gesture, he slides his notebook over his lap, suppressing a hiss, and leans forward to pretend to use his own laptop. 

“Any of those work for me,” 

“Okay, great,” You notice the time and turn back to him. “You can just message me when you’re free.”

“Sure.” 

“And here’s my number—” you reach over, sliding the protective notebook from his lap and placing it on your desk, scribbling your number in the corner. Jisung immediately readjusts his hoodie, throwing the hem of it over his boner. Professor Hwang dismisses the class as you pass it back. 

“Call me whenever you’re free.” With a spin of your heel, you wave goodbye to him and rejoin Karina, who waits for you  at the door with her partner.

Jisung lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and looks down at the number you wrote. Beside the digits, written in very neat handwriting, might he add, sat perched on a wobbly branch a little black cat that he recognized from his hours of staring as one of your doodles. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

The time is 4:33PM, and Jisung has drafted over a dozen messages on the iMessage app addressed to your number. None of them have exactly made it to you yet, courtesy of his thumb that keeps pressing backspace and wiping out any trace of a remotely embarrassing text. It’s the next day and no introduction or invitation to meet up seems like it’s good enough to send, though he knows that inevitably, he has to text you first. You left your number behind with the doodle that he has since stuck to the corner of his PC monitor, but you never took down his; so now, the ball is in Jisung’s court, and he knows that if he waits too long, you’d think he was avoiding you or the project altogether. 

Realistically, he knows a simple “Hi, it’s Jisung,” will suffice, but he can’t bring himself to send you such an unoriginal and boring message. After pondering for a moment, he then decides the best solution would be to do some research, and then call you with his findings—this way, his interest in the project would be clear, and he knows how important that is to you. 

At once, he peels your cum-stained cardigan off of his lap, though not before stealing a glance at the day’s new additions, and places it aside. He tucks his spent dick into his short and turns on his monitor, typing the name of the constellation into Google and investigating nearly every website he could find with any useful information. 

In the nicest handwriting he can manage, Jisung bullets a list of all the facts and history he could find on ‘Gemini’ within the hour, including the stars that make up the constellation, the myth behind it, and other relevant statistics. It isn’t until he has filled up an entire page front and back—partially—that he picks up his phone again and makes another attempt at contacting you. 

Feeling slightly more confident, he types up his message. 

To: 555-111-0205

hi, it’s jisung from astronomy. i did some research and i wanted to show you what i found. let me

know if you’re free to exchange notes. Sent at 5:52 PM.

Jisung rereads over his message for any flaws, though there’s nothing he can do about it now that it’s sent, anyway. After he deems it an okay first message, he takes a breath and moves to put his phone down, but it buzzes in his hand instead. 

Incoming call at 5:54 PM From: 555-111-0205

“Hi-”

“Hi! Sorry to just call unannounced but I’m walking to the library with all my stuff and I can’t really text. I was able to book us a computer lab for the next two hours so If you want, we—can you hear me?” 

He sits up straighter, “Yeah! Yes, I can hear you,” 

“Oh, good, so—wait, hello?” Your voice shifts in volume and proximity, as if you pulled your phone from your ear to check the call screen, then brought it back, “Oh, sorry. I-I thought I had accidentally called someone else… nevermind.” Instantly, Jisung realizes instantly that you must have recognized his voice. It makes sense, seeing as you’re used to hearing it specifically on calls. You seem to show no further suspicion as you continue speaking, though, but perhaps, he should keep talking on the phone with you to a minimum. 

“Do you think you can make it? Otherwise I can go work on my own. I saw your text and instantly booked the room. Sorry for not checking in with you first,” 

“I’ll meet you there,” He replies quickly, grimacing at the instinctual effort it takes to try and make his voice deeper. 

“Okay! Great. I’ll see you there, then.” You hang up, and then your text message comes through with the lab room information just minutes later. 

Jisung all but lunges out of his chair and rushes to face himself in the mirror, taking in his reflection. Besides his hair that looks slightly disheveled, he looks alright. He doesn’t want to make you wait long for him, so he quickly grabs his laptop and his notes, shoves them all into his bag, and flies out of his dorm room with the laces of his sneakers left untied.  

In the brightly, yellow-lit hallway, Mark and Chenle are popping out of their respective rooms, a basketball clutched under the younger boy’s arm.

“We were just about to come grab you,” Chenle starts, “Let’s play some ball. Jeno’s meeting us at the court,”

“Can’t,” Jisung shakes his head, “I’m going to the library,” he tries to not get offended at the way the two boys snort loudly in disbelief, looking at each other as if they’ve both had the same thought. 

“Yeah, right.” Chenle scoffs. 

With a blink, Jisung replies meekly, “I’m serious.” 

“Since when do you go to the library?” Mark brows pinch and he adds, “It’s the start of term. You’re already studying?”

“Since now, I guess. I have a project for a class so I’m gonna go meet up with my partner at the library, but I’ll catch you guys later.” 

“Alright, alright. Oh—remember there’s a party next week at Jaehyun’s frat for syllabus week.” 

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” His answer doesn’t seem to fully convince Mark, Chenle, or even himself, but they seem satisfied enough, because they let Jisung go without any more pestering. He flies down the flight of stairs and out the front door of the dormitory. 

The cold September air is biting at this time in the evening, feeling particularly cool on the apples of his cheek, which glow from the light layer of sweat that develops during his jog over to the library. It’s a considerable distance away, which is part of the reason why he, in his two years of being a student at the university, has never seriously stepped foot inside of it. Studying in his room is much more convenient, but you seem to like the library, so the twenty-minute-walk there, or in this case, fifteen-minute-jog, will simply have to be adopted as a new way to get in some brief exercise a few times a week. 

More than likely, you have already arrived, and Jisung doesn’t want to make you wait too long for him, especially since there’s a two-hour time limit on the room and he intends to spend as much time with you there as he can. He wipes his cheeks with his gray sleeves and climbs up the stairs of the building quickly, swiping his student card at the door and stepping inside. 

The ceiling is massively tall, seemingly taller than when he once saw it during freshman orientation, and the endless rows of shelves are filled with books, ranging from thin, colorful novels to thick, leather-bound classics. It’s quieter than he expects it to be, even for a library, and he clearly can hear the pitter patter of his feet as he follows the sign labeled ‘Study Rooms and Computer Labs.’ 

The guy at the reception desk in this section seems to be a volunteer, his student ID and name tag shining on his shirt. He glances up from his book when Jisung approaches, nodding once. There’s an awkward silence that feels rather loud as Jisung fumbles with his phone, flipping it between his clammy hands as he searches for your message. 

“Computer Lab 4C?” 

Wordlessly, the boy nods again, then slides over a clip-board with a sign-in sheet clamped to it. 

It’s surprising to see how many lab spots are filled up so early into the term, names scribbled along the lines and time-slots. Your name stands out, partly because of your familiar handwriting, but particularly because of the empty line beside it, where he signs in before handing the clip-board back. 

“Down the hall, second door on your right.” 

It’s Jisung’s turn to bob his head once and the boy looks back down at his book. He makes his way down the hall until he reaches the correctly labeled door. His hand reaches for the handle, but he withdraws it. Should he knock? Or maybe send you a text? Or both? 

To: 555-111-0205

hey again. i’m outside :) Sent at 6:18 PM.

The door creaks open from the taps of his knuckles bumping against it, and he peeks his head in timidly, finding you sitting in one of the desk chairs, nearly hidden behind your laptop and a stack of books. You look up over the screen, eyes squinting in a smile. 

“Oh, I had left the door open for you,” you stand up, holding out a cup for him, “and I got you coffee… didn’t know how you liked it so I just got you the same thing I order,” 

There’s a fluttering in his stomach as he sets his bag down. There’s no chance he can manage to meet your eyes after such a gesture so he casts them to the ground instead, graciously reaching out to receive with both hands the drink you offer him, “You didn’t have to,” he mumbles, “but thank you. I’m sure your order is great,” 

“I wanted to! It’s just—I mean, I did drag you out of your room in the cold and on really short notice—A hot coffee was the least I could do,” you shrug, “One of my friends works at the cafe and I was there doing some work for my literature class before I got your message and I figured I’d grab us both something before I headed over here… Sorry, I’m talking too much. Here, sit down.” 

He’s not exactly sure what to say, so he takes his seat beside you in silence, but not without a small smile decorating his face. The notes he had taken down to show you are retrieved from his bag, as well as his laptop. There’s a low screech of your chair dragging across the floor, and he turns to find you’ve scooted closer and you're leaning forward with your cheek resting on your palm, eyes intently looking at his research. 

“It isn’t much. I’m sure whatever you found is much more substantial, but I couldn’t show up empty handed.” Jisung explains, sliding the paper over to you. As your eyes scan the page, you make a few comments along the lines of ‘Oh, this is a good point,’ or ‘We should mention this.’

You seem to be very carefully reading his work. Meanwhile, he takes advantage of your preoccupation to let his eyes rake over your person. 

The first thing he notices is that you’re wearing a different cardigan, and he suddenly remembers your black one is still on his desk, unwashed and covered in his cum. Your hair looks soft, and when you mindlessly swing it over your shoulder, he catches a whiff of your lavender scented hair wash, and it makes him gnaw the inside of his cheek. You’re not quite close enough for him to catch the perfume you’ve decided to wear tonight, though he can vividly picture the gentle florals that linger still on your cardigan. His eyes trail down, and it’s only then that he notices your skirt—or blatantly, the length of your skirt. Your smooth thighs are exposed, full and fleshy and pressed together, and he suddenly wishes they were wrapped around his head. 

“Jisung? You okay?” 

“I–Yeah, sorry.” It’s clear that you’ve noticed his staring, and he all but rips his eyes away in embarrassment, “I was just wondering if you were cold,” He gestures down at your legs shyly, pretending the content he’d written on the paper was more interesting the sight of your plush thighs. 

For a moment he expects some harsh comment or outburst, but you laugh instead, smoothing the material down a bit, “No, not in here, at least. And the walk over was short, so,” His lips are pursed and his cheeks are burning, but you spare him from any further humiliation when you reach across him to turn the page over and quietly gasp, muttering some surprise under your breath at how extensive his work is. “This is really good. We can use pretty much all of it.” 

Failing to hide his beaming at your praise, he snaps his head over to you, “You think so?” 

“Yeah, I mean—,” The screen of your laptop changes over to a page of notes, “I pretty much wrote down all the same things. I’m actually so relieved, I was worried I might get paired up with someone who wasn’t gonna contribute.” 

“Bet you’re glad you didn’t switch out of the class now, huh?” 

Distracted in the notes and in the taste of his coffee, he misses your quick, confused glance his way. Smoothly recovering before he notices, you slowly nod and present to him the layout where you had already taken the liberty to assign him his designated parts. Not that he expected anything else; it’s endearing to see his name labeled over specific sections, color-coded in a blue, bolded font. He wastes no time in pulling up the screen of his computer, exchanging emails with you so the two of you can get to work on the shared document.

The time passes quicker than he hopes, and he realizes just how much he likes spending time with you. Talking with you online is one thing, but sitting beside you as you sip your drink and hum mindlessly, fingers typing away or flipping pages in a book? Completely different game. He’s sure that if it wasn’t because he relieved himself earlier today, he might have popped a boner from the simple act of being in your presence. 

Every once in a while, you make an occasional comment regarding a point or two you thought was worth mentioning or adding, and he’d oblige, making a note of it and sharing his thoughts here and there. Occasionally, he manages to steal a look at your thighs, which he swears you’re bouncing and squeezing together on purpose, but for the most part he keeps his focus on the task at hand. 

Towards the end of the night, there’s a moment where your hands brush his as you point something out on his screen, and Jisung swears he’s never felt more like a teenage boy in his life. He practically flinches at the contact, failing to mask his awkward reaction and pretending he really meant to fix his hair.

Bidding you farewell is possibly the most difficult of the tasks this evening, even more so than pretending he isn’t completely infatuated with and aroused by you for a whole two hours. When you stand from your seat and walk with him out of the study room, and subsequently, out of the library and into the cold, Jisung faces another of his many dilemmas related to you. He’s not sure if he should offer to walk you back to your dorm, or at the very least halfway there. Perhaps, offering you his jacket would be appropriate, since your skirt wasn’t doing much of a job at keeping you warm. 

“You live close by?” 

“Yeah! Just a 5 minute walk,” you point your index finger, “In that dorm right over there.” 

Jisung nods once, then decides to indulge his impulses. “Here,” he slides his hoodie off with a little less coordination than he would’ve liked, holding it out for you to take, “so you aren’t cold.” 

He can’t tell if your cheeks are red from the temperature again or from his gesture, but he hopes it’s the latter. The moment you take his sweater, pretty eyes wide in thanks, he sucks in a breath. It’s much chillier now that the sun is gone, and he fights the urge to chatter his teeth when he offers you a lopsided smile. 

“T-thank you,” you tie the sleeves around your waist, covering your lap. 

 “I’ll see you in class?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” you nod, flashing him a final grin before you spin on your heel to head home. 

The twenty-minute-walk-fifteen-minute-jog back to his room feels eternal. All of his hair is standing on end, but picking up his pace too much means that the icy wind, which has so graciously decided to blow in his direction, would just become harsher. His palms soak up the little warmth on his stomach, tucked under his t-shirt, as he alternates between speed-walking and jogging. The minutes drag on and on until finally, his building comes into view and he breaks into a run. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

The following morning when he walks into his astronomy class, he follows his usual routine of checking for you in your seat and is almost distraught when he finds it to be empty. It’s not like you to miss a class, and he contemplates reaching for his phone to check-in on you. It isn't until he pans his vision over to his own chair that he spots you. You’re accompanied by Karina and her partner, Heesung, taking up the empty seats beside his own. 

On your desk sit two coffee cups like the ones from last night, and he pulls his lip between his teeth to hide the grin that fights to break out.

You look up when you spot him, and Karina and Heesung look up, too. 

“Hi…” 

“Hi! Jisung, right?” Karina extends her hand out and he takes it, nodding to confirm, “I’m Karina and this is Heesung.” He mumbles another small hello to the boy, who acknowledges him before looking back at his computer.

“Good morning,” you greet as he sits, placing his cup on his desk. “You never told me whether you liked it or not, but I figured you’d grow to like it eventually.”

“I-thanks but,” 

“I know: Didn’t have to, but I wanted to. So just say thanks, yeah?” 

There’s a familiar burning on his cheeks that always seems to make an appearance when you’re around, but he doesn’t bother masking it this time. 

“I wanted to ask you if you would be free to study tonight?” 

Instantly, he bobs his head up and down, and you book the study room on your computer just moments before Professor Hwang strides inside the classroom, her glasses on the tip of her sharp, pointed nose. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

The frat house where the seniors stay is practically next door to Jisung’s dormitory, which is why when Mark, Chenle, and Jeno come banging on his door on Saturday night, he realizes he can’t use walking so far in the cold as an excuse to stay home. He also can’t use studying as an excuse anymore, since Mark had already caught him leaving the dorm a few times throughout the week to go study with you. That, and he ran into Jeno as he was entering the library just the night before. 

“You’ve been studying plenty,” they’d say, or “We told you about the party last week, no way you’re not going.” 

Anyway—the point is, he’ll have to endure tonight, despite his wishes to stay close to his PC for the chance that you’d want to hop into a game. He’d prefer to spend the night talking with you, but that’ll just have to wait until tomorrow. With a somber look on his face, he shrugs on a jacket and opens the door for his friends, who practically drag him outside. 

Jeno slings his arm over the taller boy’s shoulders as if to prevent him from fleeing, and the four of them climb down the stairs and onto the path toward the frat. If Jisung strains his ears, he can already pick up on the sounds of the party, even from here. 

“You think Chaewon will be there?” Mark asks no one in particular, but the boys all respond simultaneously with groans of distaste. 

“You dated her three semesters ago, why do you care?” Chenle starts, “isn’t she seeing Jungwoo now, anyway?”  

“That’s exactly why I care,” Mark grumbles, foot kicking a rock along the pavement. “He’s one of the RAs. If he’s there—” 

“He’s always there,” Chenle interjects, earning a glare. 

“—then she’ll be there, too.” 

“So, what happened with… what’s her name,  Minjeong? Why don’t you hang out with her?” 

“Nah,” He turns to Jeno, “She’s sweet and all, but I found out from Giselle that her and Chaewon are friends, so,” 

There’s a chorus of understanding, albeit a bit pitiful, “aah’s” and “oh’s” as the building comes into view. A few people are gathered at and around the entrance while others litter the parking lot with phones and solo cups in their hands as they wait for friends. Among them, and Jisung has to do a double take to make sure, he spots Karina, who waves someone down from the direction of the main courtyard. For a moment, he thinks it might be you who appears from between the treeline, but it’s Heesung who jogs over to meet her and he realizes how silly his thought was in the first place. 

In the months he’s known you, you’ve never once brought up a party. In retrospect, you don’t seem like the type to like partying at all. He can picture you clearly now, tearing through textbooks or novels for your literature class, or maybe even typing away to him on Discord and asking if he was online. 

He isn’t and can’t be tonight, and he’s very sorry about that, for the record. 

Maneuvering through the crowd of tipsy college students isn’t too difficult,and neither is their entry. The door is propped open, and Jaehyun, with his signature snapback that he wears backwards on his dark hair, calls them over from the drink bar. 

“First problem I see here,” he starts, “is that none of you have a cup in your hand.” 

“We’ve barely made it through the door, man,”  Mark laughs, clapping up Jaehyun and moving aside so he can greet the rest of the guys. 

“That’s no excuse, you should be sipping on something by now.” He waves his arm, “Take a look around, boys! This is what life is gonna look like for you guys next year—and the year after for you, Jisung.” 

Jisung gives a curt, disinterested nod amidst being handed some fruity, fizzy, white claw resemblant that probably wouldn’t taste much different from an Alka-Seltzer. He cracks it open upon being prompted to by Jaehyun, who initiates a “cheers” between the friend group. The moment the alcohol touches his tongue, Jisung grimaces, taking a few long chugs in hopes that the effect will kick in quicker and make the long night that awaits him a little less long. 

“Do you know if Chaewon is here?” 

Wordlessly, Jaehyun fixes his cap and points a single finger toward the couch, where Chaewon sits besides Jungwoo, leaning in to hear him over the music and giggling at whatever he says in her ear. The boys look over at the couple, then quickly glance back at Mark, whose face falls despite the fact that he knew to expect this. 

“Tough,” Jeno gives him a pat on the shoulder, “Hope you have better luck the rest of the night. I’ve gotta bounce,” 

“Yo, what do you mean bounce?” 

He gestures toward a girl standing near the beer pong table, who looks slightly familiar to Jisung, though he can’t quite put his finger on it, and smirks, “She smiled at me the moment we walked in. I’ll see you later, but I honestly hope I don’t.” 

The realization that his friends, in search of their hook-ups for the night, would eventually be abandoning him one-by-one kicks in just then, inviting Jisung to down the rest of his bubbly drink in one go. 

Mark rolls his eyes, “You ever notice Jeno is always the first one to get a girl?” His comment earns a few hums of agreement.

“I’m gonna go find Jaemin,” with his phone clutched in his hand, Chenle turns towards the door, “he just texted me he’s outside with Sullyoon and her friend.” 

“Wait, Jaemin is—he’s setting you up and not me?” Chenle only shrugs at Mark’s question, replying with a blunt and concise “yeah.” 

“I’m not a dog like Jeno though, so I’ll definitely see you guys later.” 

As if noticing he was facing the same unfortunate fate as Jisung, Mark turns to the youngest boy with a fearful look in his eyes. Jisung only shakes his head and takes a quick look around, “I’m not planning on hooking up with anyone here, so…” At this, the boy sighs in relief, handing Jisung another drink in solidarity. The two lean against the counter as Jaehyun looks between them, snorting. 

“Mark, there’s so many girls here.” 

“I know, but—” 

“But Chaewon.” 

Mark nods, echoing Jaehyun in a quiet, maybe even embarrassed voice, “But Chaewon…” 

“Don’t worry, I get it,” he adds sympathetically, “I’m caught up on my ex, too.” 

“Uh…” there’s a pause. “Which one?” This comment lands Mark a shove, playful, for the most part. He rubs his shoulder and hisses while Jaehyun, on the other hand, sloshes around the little liquid left in his cup and grabs the closest bottle of alcohol to him, along with whichever random mixer he finds first.

“The only one that really mattered.” He tilts his newly filled red cup back to drink from it, but his eyes peek over the rim and he pulls it from his lips to sigh out,  “Speak of the devil and she doth come,” he raises his brows and announces, “there she is now.” 

Following his line of sight, Jisung trails his vision toward the front entrance and at once, the sight makes each and every one of his limbs seize up. There’s a twisting and turning in his stomach that almost invites the seltzer he chugged to make a reappearance, and he’s pretty sure the color has drained from his face as he watches you walk inside the frat house behind Karina and Heesung. 

So many things go through his mind in such a short amount of time that he fears he may have had some sort of out-of-body experience or hallucination episode; it wasn't really you he was seeing, it couldn’t be. The way your skirt clings to your hips makes him grip his cup tighter within his sweating palm, and the lacy, corset top you’ve decided to wear, which shows off a tasteful bit of cleavage, causes him to swallow down the saliva that had pooled on his tongue. 

It was a more provocative outfit than he’d even seen you wear, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Jaehyun opened his mouth to speak, he’s sure he would’ve instantly become bricked up. 

“And of course she’s wearing that shirt…” Jaehyun fixes his cap for the second time tonight and straightens out his shirt, “Alright, wish me luck.” 

It’s not like Jisung would have interjected anyway, he didn’t really have the grounds to, but he couldn’t even entertain the thought before Jaehyun headed in your direction with decisive confidence. Part of him hopes he was referring to someone else as his ex, perhaps even Karina, since there isn’t another girl in your immediate vicinity besides her, but his bit of hope is crushed as he spots Heesung’s hand intertwined in hers. Surely, Jaehyun wouldn’t be coming up to her if she showed up with someone to his party. It leaves him to reach his regretful conclusion just as his friend and you make eye contact, recognition flashing across your features, along with something else. 

Unable to torture himself further by watching your exchange, Jisung tears his eyes away and grabs another drink to make this very, very long night ahead of him somewhat bearable. He turns to Mark, who he didn’t even realize had been talking this whole time, but the loud music and the cloudiness in his mind muffle out his speech. 

“—I mean this just sucks! I guess we still have each other, maybe we can find some girls who—” 

When did you even date Jaehyun? You hadn’t mentioned him once in the months he had known you. And also, why  did you date Jaehyun? Not that there was anything wrong with him, other than his habit of cycling through girls every semester. Mark’s “Which one?” comment had some truth to it, but he would have never expected you to have been on Jaehyun’s roster. It takes him a second to remember that Jaehyun is still his friend, but even then, he can’t fight the bitterness that settles in his bones. What did he mean when he said that you were the only one that mattered? How significant was your relationship with him? There’s too many questions circling his mind, and it isn’t until he downs the fifth drink that they start to blur. 

Currently, he’s passing the time conversing with Mark and following him around the party, but more importantly, avoiding you in fear he’ll steal a glance and you’ll be locking lips with your ex. He spots Jaehyun by the bathroom a bit into the night, but thankfully, you aren’t near him. It’s in the middle of a beer pong game with Mark when he dares to glance around in search of you. 

First, he spots Karina and Heesung, making out on the couch where Chaewon and Jungwoo once sat. You aren’t near them. Then he spots Jaemin and Chenle dancing with the girls they had met up with, but you aren’t dancing, either. 

He’s relieved to find you aren’t with Jaehyun when he spots him, finding instead that his friend is flirting it up with a different girl who is certainly not you. The sight completely pisses him off, and somehow makes him feel immense relief simultaneously. Right around this time, he decides he’s had more than enough of the party. You aren’t here anymore, and Jaehyun’s face is making him fucking sick. Mark is slurring his speech enough that he wouldn’t notice if Jisung just slipped, so he does just that, though he does make sure to mention to Chenle that he’s leaving on his way out so he can keep an eye on Mark.  

Outside, the cold is unbearable. The previously crowded lot is empty for the most part, except for a few people puffing clouds of smoke into the air by a bench. Not even the alcohol in his system is enough to warm him up, so he can’t even imagine how a joint could be worth sitting outside for.

The only other person sitting outside is squatted down by the curb with their knees curled up to their chest. As the autumn leaves crack under Jisung’s feet, they turn their head around. 

“I told you I don’t wanna—Jisung?” 

Your big eyes widen in his direction, and you shoot up from the ground. Jisung’s brow lowers in concern and he notices the only thing you have to cover up is a flimsy cardigan. You and your damn, flimsy cardigans. 

“What are you doing out here?” 

“Sorry for snapping I—sorry,” you shiver involuntarily as a gust of wind blows through, wrapping your arms around yourself, “I thought you were someone else.” 

There isn't a sliver of hesitation before Jisung shrugs off his leather jacket and begins to wrap it around you, grumbling, “Are you crazy? You must be freezing,” 

“I’m fine—“ 

“This should help,” 

“But- Jisung, how many of your jackets am I gonna take—” 

“As many as you need to.” Your lack of a response makes him look back up to meet your eyes, round and much warmer than the rest of you was right now. He clears his throat, guiding your sleeves into the arms of the jacket as he jokes, “or until you bring your own.” 

You smile, muttering a small ‘thank you’ as the warmth engulfs you, along with the smell of him and some cheap cologne only a college student would buy. He’s tugging the collar closer to cover up your exposed neck and chest, eyes flickering down at your bare skin despite being well aware that you’re looking. Where this newfound boldness came from tonight, he doesn’t know. What he does know is that his boldness is always rather short-lived when it comes to you, and tends to appear and disappear like random spurts of energy—he’ll take advantage of it this once. Especially now that he knows you’re Jaehyun’s ex and the most he might even get to do is gawk at you, he intends to make it worth it. 

“You must be freezing now, though,” you start, “should we go somewhere warm?” 

“How about the library?” 

You laugh, looking at him in disbelief, “The library isn’t open at this time, much less on the weekend,” “Right…” 

“Wanna go to mine?” Your suggestion makes his breath hitch for a second, but he manages to respond with decent clarity. 

“You live by the library, though. That’s like a half-hour walk. I don’t think you’ll make it that far without turning into an icicle,” 

“Well, I don’t really wanna go back inside…” he knows why, so he offers something else. 

“My dorm is five minutes away. We could go there if you want, b-but if you’d rather go somewhere else—”

“Okay,” you nod eagerly, “let’s go.” 

As Jisung leads the way, speed-walking to beat the chill that spreads through his newly uncovered limbs, he turns his face to you, watching as you tuck the lower half of your face into his coat. 

“I don’t know if you want to work on the project or—” 

“God no,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “I’m not that much of a buzzkill, dude.” You jog a little to catch up to his longer strides, “Besides, I have like three shots of Pink Whitney in me,” 

“Foul.” 

“I know. Can’t think about a project right now,” 

“I’ve had a bit to drink, too.” he admits.

“I can tell. You’re stumbling.” 

He snaps his head around, down to his feet, then back to you. “What? Am I?” 

There’s a small, stupid smile on your face as you shake your head. “No.”

He can’t pinpoint why this banter with you is so easy, why it feels so right. Or perhaps, he can, but regardless, his heart leaps in his chest as he scoffs, not fighting the shit-eating grin that spreads on his frosted cheeks. 

"It’s that building right over there,” he points.

“You weren’t kidding when you said it was close,”

The two of you climb the stairs and he opens the main door for you, watching you sigh out in bliss as you step into the warmth of the hall. You bounce around in a cute way that once more tugs at his heart-strings, still looking all puffed up and adorable in his jacket that entirely engulfs your frame. He leads you up another flight of stairs and onto the floor his room is at, and once the two of you stop in front of his door, he pats his jean pockets. 

“Oh my uh- my keys are in the pocket of the jacket.” 

You mimic his recent action, patting around until you find his keys, holding them out for him to take. 

Somewhat awkwardly, he fumbles with them until he manages to fit it into the lock, opening the door with one hand. He gestures for you to enter his room with a small shrug, “Make yourself at home.” 

As you step inside, Jisung makes it a point to quietly thank whatever higher power compelled him to make his bed this afternoon. The rest of his room wasn’t perfectly organized by any means, but at the very least, his bed, which you now sat at the foot of with your legs bouncing, was neatly made. 

“You have your own room?” You mutter in surprise as you look around the small space and notice the lack of a second bed. The tall boy beside you just shrugs again, toeing off his shoes in the corner as he pulls the door closed. 

“Yeah, uh… I’m one of the RAs for the sophomore class.” 

“Wow,” you sigh, “I wish! I mean, I love sharing a room with Karina, but it’s nice to have space for myself sometimes.” 

“That’s why you’re always at the library?” 

You nod, sliding your palms across his duvet, “It’s nice and quiet,” your fingers move to grip and release the material, and he blinks harshly to erase the sight of that from his mind before it causes him to spiral. It didn’t prove to be very useful, though, because your still-exposed thighs move and press together, just as they did at the library, and his dick gives a little twitch in response.

“I’ll get you some clothes to change into, that way you’re more comfortable.” he decides, more for his sake than yours. You don’t answer, continuing to look around, taking in the details of his computer that flashes in a bunch of different colors. 

“You know I gave up extra storage in my bedside table to be able to keep my PC? I let Karina take it to her side of the room so I’d have space for my setup.” 

Rummaging through his drawers, he pipes up, “you game?” as if it wasn’t something he already knew about you. 

“I love it. I stayed here for most of the summer just because I had my computer here.”  

Jisung picks out a pair of sweats for you and one for himself, along with a t-shirt he knows he recently washed, then he turns, handing it over to you. “I’ll change in the bathroom down the hall and then wait outside. You can crack the door open when you’re done,” 

“Thank you, Jisung.” 

There’s a gentle sincerity in your tone that makes him wanna say “anything for you,” but he settles for pursing his lips instead, leaving to let you change before he can embarrass himself with any baseless comment you wouldn’t really get. The effect of the drinks still hadn’t completely faded, and he fears he’s capable of saying just about any of his stupid thoughts out loud right about now. 

You weren’t completely sober either, not by any means. The trashy vodka your ex offered you in an attempt to reconcile was as bitter as the end of your relationship with him, and it was flowing through your veins and giving you that light-headed buzz. You stand up and slip off your boots and Jisung’s jacket, along with your skirt. Your top requires a bit more precision, the lace getting twisted and tangled in your uncoordinated fingers. There’s little huffs and puffs of frustration that leave your lips during your struggle, and you’d almost consider asking for help if it wasn’t completely inappropriate. 

Finally, though, you manage to get it off and slip on the change of clothes Jisung has so graciously provided. They’re warm and they smell good, and they’re much more comfortable than your outfit which is now folded on Jisung’s gaming chair, alongside your purse. 

When you look up in admiration of his impressive keyboard, which looks to be custom made, and your eyes trail up to his monitor, you notice something on the corner of the screen. The mindless doodle you had drawn beside your phone number that day in class had been very carefully cut out and stuck onto his screen with tape. 

“You okay?”

His voice calls from outside, quietly as if not to disturb you even though it’s you who is occupying his room. 

“Yeah, I’m almost done!”

“I thought that she was gonna assign them on Friday?”

Sung had asked you that on call, in regards to the constellation project you mentioned you wanted to start working on. Not Jisung, Sung. Sung, who is not in your astronomy class and would have had no way of knowing when or even what your professor would be assigning. 

“You’re Ji-sun, right?” 

“—Sung.”

The nickname sounded very right coming from his lips, from his voice. You never gave his nickname too much thought, because truly, Sung could just be a display name. And if it is his real name, it could stand for anything: Sungmin, Sungwoo, Daesung, Ilsung, Jaesung… Jisung. 

And then, you recall the time you spoke on the phone—specifically, the time you had to do a double take at your screen to make sure you hadn’t actually called Sung. It was the first time you had spoken to Jisung on the phone, and it’s the only way you had even spoken to Sung… something about it seemed so, so strangely familiar. 

Could it be… 

“Alright, I’m done!” Your announcement comes after the realization that he’s been waiting outside for a few minutes already. 

“Coming in…” He warns, eyes still cast to the ground in case you weren’t decent. They slowly make their way up, and something flashes across his features at the sight of you. You try to ignore it, still preoccupied by your growing suspicions. His computer is on… meaning…

“Let me let Karina know I left… I kinda just walked out on her.” 

Jisung nods and takes a cautious seat on his bed a few feet away from you. 

As you open the discord app on your phone, you scroll to the top to find his contact and type out a simple Hi, clicking send with your heart beating faster than usual. It’s an impulsive act, but you can’t help yourself. If there’s even a chance… 

Instantly, his screen lights up and through his headphones you hear the familiar chime of the notification coming in. 

“I knew it! I fucking knew it!” 

If it’s possible, Jisung’s face grows even paler than it already was naturally, and even more gloom than it appeared earlier in the night when he identified you as Jaehyun’s ex. All of his features are alert and in shock, watching as you spin around to face him. 

“Sung? Right? That’s you?” 

He’s struggling to read your expression, and it’s beyond obvious. The only change in his demeanor is the now tensed up shoulders and the redness that takes over the white on his cheeks. 

“I—” Are you mad? Should he apologize?

“Did you know all this time? That it was me, I mean?” 

He nods slowly, unable to find the appropriate words to say. 

Two things happen just then. First, your hand smacks his arm, hard. “You fucking idiot!” and Second, you topple into his arms, hugging him. Initially, his hands hesitate to wrap around you, hovering above your waist as you squeeze his neck. 

“You’re not mad?” He asks shyly. You shake your head against him, then lift off with your hands on his shoulders to take a real good look at his face. 

“No! I’m so glad, I thought I was going crazy. Why didn’t you tell me?” 

He shrugs again, a gesture he seems to do a lot around you. 

“Since when did you know it was me?” 

“Since I heard you speak on the very first day in class. I recognized your voice.” 

Your eyes soften at this small confession, and you look back towards his desk, “So, this is where you were this whole time while we played? This close? A twenty-minute walk away?” You shoot up from the bed and cross the small distance to the desk, swiping an index finger along the surface, then his mouse, then his keyboard, and all of his other equipment. Your eyes are beaming, looking around and familiarizing yourself with his things. All the things you wondered about him are now laid out in front of you, and it’s exhilarating. 

“I was so excited when I found out,” 

“You should’ve told me,” you repeat, still taking in his pictures and personal items, your profound curiosity surfacing within you. 

“I was worried about making a good first impression, you’re…” 

“I’m…?” you press, turning to him for a moment. 

“You’re really pretty in person.” 

In that moment when you turn away to hide your blush, with the words “you’re really cute in person, too” ready to spill from your tongue in a sweet and shy whisper, a small black pile on the corner of his dresser catches your eye. 

“What’s that—” 

“Oh nothing! It’s just—” 

“Is that my cardigan?” 

Forget distraught, forget embarrassed, forget every possible synonym for the word humiliation. Not a single one would do what he’s feeling in this moment even a sliver of justice. Jisung is convinced his soul has left his body, that he’s passed on or that the ground has swallowed him whole. In fact, he’d prefer it that way. He has never felt more panic in his life as you quickly approach the cum-stained cardigan that he took from you, that he pleasured himself with countless times, that he still hasn’t washed…

“You dropped it in class, and I-I meant to give it back to you, you know, a-after I washed it, but then—” 

As you turn the material over in your hands, taking note of and examining the stains, Jisungs breath completely cuts off. You spin slowly on your heel, facing him. There’s an unreadable expression on your face, and it takes every bit of the little pride he has left to not squeeze his eyes shut. 

“Are these—” His voice is no more than a sputtering squeak, “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. Fuck, you must think—” 

“Jisung.” 

“I didn’t mean to keep it for so long, or-or at all, really, it’s just—”

“Jisung.” He’s pretty sure you can hear him gulp. “Were you using my cardigan to get off?” 

“I-” 

“Were you?” You ask sternly. 

He sucks in a breath, unable to look at you any longer as the faintest of yeses leaves his pouty lips. 

There’s a moment of silence. A terribly long, excruciating moment of silence where Jisung can think of no way to make this up to you. He’s beyond ashamed, palms clasped together and sweating, face red with horror, inside of his cheek clamped tightly between his teeth, the whole nine miles. So much for mulling over how he’d reveal who he was to you, and so much for all the overthinking he did, all the times he planned out exactly what to say to you and how. Now, it’s all coming to an end because of this damned cardigan. He should’ve just washed it and given it back to you after the first time—no, he shouldn’t have used it at all. His mind is filled with thoughts of everything and nothing at the same time, and he’s already beginning to mourn the loss of your friendship when you say the unthinkable: 

“Show me.”

*. * ·

taglist: @heartlvrrss @albedoloser @zp00ks @simpforarmihn @toroufriteh @quokkatss @jising-jisang-jisung @camstqr @tangerinehyuck @ma-riiii @minlvrpage @hancafe

there are some users that couldn't be tagged, as tumblr did not recognize their accounts. sorry :((

[lullxby]

niccolo bf headcannons, how would he be with his gf, particularly a shy girl :))

oh my gosh he’d be insufferable (but also the sweetest guy ever?)

i did this with a few headcanons and a short imagine cus i didn’t know what one you’d like! enjoy!! 🤍

- this boy would love to see you get all flustered from his compliments, or hide your face to not let him see how red it’s getting. - if you were diverting your eyes from him for whatever reason, he’d definitely make you look at him - “lemme see that pretty face” - “c’mon ma, i don’t bite” - “unless you want me to” - all jokes aside, if someone were to talk over you when you were finally trying to speak your mind, he’d make sure you knew he was paying attention atleast. - “shut up and let her finish, yeah?” - he’s the only one allowed to tease you for how flustered you get - someone else goes “oooh she’s blushing, nicco, look whatcha do to her,” - he is pissed - “yeah? what about it?” he’d snap, knowing you wouldn’t want him to be too rude, but simultaneously not wanting you to be embarrassed - he’d def say some choice words to them later, regardless of if they were his friend or not 😊 - if you wanted him to, he’d order for you at a restaurant, or things of that sort

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

you and niccolo were sat on his couch, with brando and vittorio sitting beside the two of you, chatting mindlessly about something trivial. you had your legs splayed over niccolo’s thighs, his hands holding them in place.

you were reading a book, one that he had gotten you a few days ago, his excuse being he had just saw it and remembered you wanting it. the reality had been that he had waited for it to be released, just to be able to purchase it for you as soon as it did.

either way, he’d never forget the way your face had lit up when he presented it to you. with your expression, it could’ve been guessed that he gave you some crazy expensive gift, rather than just a fifteen euro book.

the boys continued talking, though nicco’s gaze kept flashing back towards you, as if he couldn’t bare to draw his eyes away for longer than a couple minutes.

you finished the chapter you were on, putting a small slip of random paper in as a bookmark.

he turned towards you, noticing the look in your eyes. it was always like he could read you like the books you always had your nose stuck in.

brando and vitto turned the conversation to just be between the two of them, letting niccolo talk to you rather than them.

you started chatting about the book, slowly changing subjects into how your day was. he listened close, occasionally nodding you along so you felt more comfortable letting him know about all these things.

that was, until brando started tapping the boy’s shoulder, trying to get his attention. you stopped talking, wanting niccolo to be able to talk to his friends, not wanting him to feel obliged to listen to you ramble.

this made him suddenly frustrated. he could’ve dealt with the incessant hits against his shoulder. but now that you had stopped talking, now that he wasn’t able to listen to your sweet voice, he was upset.

“bro, ‘m right in the middle of a conversation here, fuck off,” nicco sassed towards his friend, causing him to hold his hands up defensively and turn back to vitto.

then, his voice softened as he looked back towards you, “go ahead, babe, ‘m listening,” he urged, his eyes scanning over your face.

you shrugged, “it’s fine, you can talk to your friends,” you assured, opening up your book again.

“c’mon, please,” he practically begged, just wanting to hear more about how you were doing. he disliked doing this in front of his friends, as he hated for people to see the softer side of him, especially people like vitto.

still, he’d do anything for you, and he’d do it a thousand times more.

“tell me more about the girl you saw in the halls. what was her name? ludo?”

it was as if a switch in you flipped, as you nodded at the mention of your friend, going into a more in depth story about the dark-haired girl.

you had no clue what was yet to come with her.

baby taglist: lmk if you’d like to be added!

divider by h-aewo!

[miley1442111]

Hello!

I know its probably too soon but im obsessed with "i dont even know you anymore" but one of these days could you make a continuation with the reader and aaron getting close and the team sees it and they are all cute and he treats her like a gentleman (with a bit of age gap because...its just right).

Thank you, and i totally get it if you dont want to do it and want it to be just a "stand alone".

Xoxo😘

omg I love this idea!!!! i hope i did it justice :)

i don't even know you anymore- s.reid /a.hotchner

a/n: intended for fem or male reader, so imagine what you like:)))))))))

summary: you can get past your break up with Spencer, especially with Aaron by your side, right?

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader, brokenupspencer reid x reader

warnings: general angst, cheating and breaking up, general fighting, kissing, emotional stuff

PART 1

4 moths post-breakup

It had been a gruelling 4 months. You had moved out of Spencer and your shared apartment, much to his disappointment. You had broken up with him the morning after, knowing you wouldn’t have felt secure in the relationship had it gone on. Emily, your best friend on the team, had been letting you live with her and she had told Aaron. It was clear as day to everyone that Aaron had a soft spot for you. As the youngest on the team (you were the same age as Spencer, just a few months younger), he felt it was his duty. He’d always step in if a superior was belittling you, always step up if an officer was flirting with or objectifying you when Spencer was too busy to notice, and he had reached out after the breakup, telling you that he could reassign you if you wanted, but urged you to stay on the team since you were such an asset. 

Your text conversations started with that, and slowly evolved into daily conversations about anything. Cute photos of Jack, funny jokes that soon turned into inside jokes, ideas on cases, and plans to get coffee. Your daily texts from Aaron, the support from Emily and the team, and the knowledge that you’d done the right thing for yourself, made the shitty time easier. What wasn’t easy was Spencer's daily ‘apology coffee’. He’d get you a coffee from your favourite coffee shop and write a sticky note, begging to even just talk. It was becoming soul-shattering how sad he constantly looked. A part of you wanted to run back to him and just be there for him, but you knew it’d only cause you pain. Jj refused to talk to you unless it was about a case, or to chew you out over Spencer’s devastated state and her now failing marriage at least once a week. You’d reached out to Will, assuming he’d known. He hadn’t, and now he was taking the kids. You felt bad, truly, and you wished you hadn’t said anything, but there’s only so much someone can do. You’d told Jj the second it happened and apologised profusely. Did she curse you out over the phone? Yes. Did she say Spencer never truly loved you? Yes. 

But did any of that fix her marriage? No.

Cases and days passed uneventfully, full of blood, guts, and longing glances from Spencer. You had started going apartment hunting recently and you felt better. You felt like yourself again. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

6 months post-breakup 

This case was particularly difficult, the unSub was targeting women of your exact description, and you had been chosen to go undercover- your least favourite pastime. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know that right?” Derek asked as he watched you turn your mic on. 

“Who else is? He needs to be stopped.”

“You don’t have to be the one to stop him, his behaviour isn’t escalating-” Spencer had budded in but you held up a hand to silence him. His rambling used to make you feel special because you were the only one who truly listened to him. You never cut him off or said something back-handed. You never made it a joke. Now his rambling felt bitter and silly to your ears, a reminder of just how stupid you’d been. 

“I’ll be fine,” You sighed. “I’ve done this before, right?”

Derek nodded and pulled you into a quick hug. Spencer tried to pull you in for a hug but you dodged him, wanting to get all of this over with. You hated being undercover. It made you feel powerless and objectified.

“Agent?” Aaron coughed out and you stared in his direction. “Can I have a word?”

“Sure,” you shrugged and followed him into an empty interrogation room. “Planning on interrogating me?”

“Are you sure about this?” He asked, letting his guard down as he had so many times in the past few months. He had opened up about so much. He had opened up about Haley’s death, about how bad of a parent he feels, anything. He even let you come over and have a movie night with him and Jack once a week. Jack falls asleep halfway through and Aaron puts him to bed and you pick a movie that isn’t about paw patrol or trolls. Though you enjoy watching those all the same. Jack cuddles up to you and smiles at you until he falls asleep. It’s adorable. 

“I’m sure. I’ll be fine, don’t worry Aaron,” you smiled, taking his hand. “I’m trained for this, right?”

“I’ll be right there,” he promised. “Say the word and we’ll come in.”

“I know,” you chuckled. “Thank you.”

“Promise me you’ll be careful?” 

“I promise,” You smiled and kissed his cheek, leaving the room swiftly after. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Being undercover was just about as terrible as you thought it would be. The unSub was an asshole, of course he was- he was murdering women. But he was a particular kind of asshole, the kind that takes women down for their insecurities so that he could lure them to him. He was verbally degrading you and if you were being yourself, you would’ve talked back. But, you were undercover and playing a college student. 

And that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was when Spencer came in, acting as your ‘boyfriend’ to get him away, ruining the only chance you had at capturing the guy. You slumped against your seat in the SUV as Spencer attempted to justify his actions to the rest of the team outside the car.

“I thought he was going to-” He was speaking a mile a minute, but stopped when Aaron put his hand up. 

“Do you have any idea what you just jeopardised?” He boomed, calm but clearly angry. “That was the closest we have ever been to him, and now he knows your face Spencer. He also knows Y/n’s face. He knows you're with the FBI and he knows we’re looking for him! Do you have any idea how stupid that was?” 

“Hotch I’m sorry I-I was worried-” he tried to apologise but Aaron cut him off again.

“Spencer, we were all worried about Y/n. Every single one of us. But you have to remember that she’s a trained agent, and that she’s not your girlfriend anymore,” Aaron stormed off to the other car with Dave trailing behind as the rest of the team stood there, shocked. 

“This is all your fault Y/N!” Jj provoked. “None of this would’ve happened if you didn’t make it such a big deal!”

You rolled your eyes and put on your headphones, the want to leave the team grew stronger everyday. You hated Spencer. You hated Jj. You didn’t know how much more you could take. 

“Listen to me!” Jj urged and you just turned your music up as Emily and Derek began defending you.

Jj shoved you, and it was the last straw. You got up and out of the car. You knocked in Aaron’s window in the next car and he rolled it down. “Can I come with you two?”

They both nodded and Aaron opened his door, allowing you to climb in. 

“What’s going on?” Dave asked after a moment of silence. 

“The end of my time with the BAU. I’m leaving,” you sighed, not looking at Aaron. You’d technically gone over his head and went straight to Strauss, but you didn’t care. You weren't going to change your mind on this, and you didn’t want him to try. 

“That’s very sad news,” Dave sighed. “You’re a great asset to this team.”

“I’m just dividing it. There’s no need for me to cause this much trouble. Spencer would’ve never gone in if he didn’t think he was ‘saving’ our relationship, Jj would be more focused on work and there would be less tension. I’m so sick of everyone picking a side. It’s not fair.”

“But you shouldn’t have to leave, this doesn’t need to happen-” Aaron started but Dave cut him off. 

“You're doing a very kind thing for people that probably don’t deserve it,” Dave sighed. “Where are you planning on going after?”

“I don’t know yet,” You shrugged and saw Aaron practically deflate.

“You have no plan?” He asked, clearly concerned.

“No? I have a law degree, I might go into that, or I’ll just join another department at Quantico. I don’t have everything mapped out right now Aaron.”

Aaron remained with a hardened look on his face the rest of the ride to the airport. The tension in the air was palpable and, to be honest, you were sick of it. You just wanted this to be over with. It was draining, and taking a toll on you mentally. Any breakup would, but this breakup included the team. The most important people to you were forced to pick a side and chose who was in the wrong or right. Jj and some others from the office had picked Spencer’s side, saying it was unfair that you didn’t hear him out. Whereas Penelope, Emily, Aaron, Dave, Derek, and the rest of the office took your side, saying it was wrong to kiss someone else, especially a mutual friend and coworker, and someone he’d admitted to having a serious crush on. You were done. You were leaving.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

8 months post-breakup 

Honestly, not being on the BAU had some getting used to. Your team had been your family for so long that being without them felt strange. You had been reassigned to the Criminal Justice Information Services Division, or CJIS for short. You’d moved a whole 4 and half hours away from Quantico, much to the team's chagrin. You loved it there, it was a nice change. Though, you missed your weekly movie nights at Aaron’s (those now had to be turned monthly), you missed your daily catch-ups with Emily which had to be moved over facetime, since you didn’t live down the block from each other anymore, and you missed being a profiler. You missed Pen, David and Derek, you even kind of missed Jj. 

A knock sounded at your door and you instantly got up and smiled, opening it without even looking. “Jack!” You wrapped the little boy up in a large hug and felt him giggle into your shoulder. You heard Aaron’s laughter and looked up at him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it as a small greeting. Jack wrangled himself out of your arms and began to run inside your house, desperate to eat the freshly popped popcorn you always made for him. 

“Hi honey,” Aaron smiled, pulling you in for a hug. His nicknames always made you feel special, your favourite being ‘honey’. You thought it sounded more romantic and endearing than other nicknames. Not that you thought of Aaron in a romantic way. Never. You wouldn’t. Not even when he picked Jack up with ease, a t-shirt on to show the swell of his biceps. Not when he crept his arm around you during movies. Definitely not when we helped you cook in the kitchen, for example, when you made bread. He looked so-

You pushed those feelings out of your head. 

“Hey Aaron,” you smiled as he pulled away. “How are you?” 

“I’m fine thank you, how are you?” He asked, a small smile on his face. 

“I’m good, I love my new department,” You beamed, though this topic was clearly a sore one for Aaron. His body language changed, he was more rigid, more tense. 

“That's good,” he deadpanned. “The BAU misses you.”

“I miss them too,” you chuckled, reminiscing on better times. “Send them my love, will you?”

“Of course, honey,” he smiled again as he saw you get flustered. 

The night went off as usual, Jack falling asleep immediately, putting him to bed in your guest bedroom, watching a movie, cleaning up, making out with Aaron on your couch- wait, what?

There you were, making out with Aaron on your couch. The tension had finally broken and now, his hands were on your waist as you straddled his legs, kissing him feverishly. 

“I want you,” Aaron rasped. “I want you as my girlfriend.”

You pulled away, catching your breath. “Seriously?”

He nodded and kissed you again, even more forceful than last time. 

“I’m yours,” you said in between kisses. 

“You’re mine.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

12 months post-breakup

Dating Aaron had been bliss. He was the perfect gentleman in every way, and he was perfect for you. You loved him. He loved you. He had also convinced you to come up to Quantico to see the team. Something that was becoming increasingly real as you stepped foot inside the bullpen and saw everyone’s faces. Spencer looked elated to see you, it was a full year since you’d broken up and maybe he was healed? Derek looked excited to see you, as did Penelope, David, Emily, and, of course, Aaron. He walked over and pulled you into a hug and smiled, happy that you were doing this. Penelope ran over next, then Emily, David, Derek and, finally, Spencer. Jj was nowhere to be seen- probably a good thing.

“It’s so good to see you, I didn’t realise you were coming back-” He rambled but you cut him off.

“I’m not coming back, I just came to say hi to everyone,” you smiled. “Aaron convinced me.”

Aaron tried to hide his smirk with his hand but it didn’t work well, and looking at Spencer, you’d think he was being faced with the most horrific challenge of his life. 

“You’re who Aaron’s dating,” Spencer stated and there was a collective gasp from the office. You looked to Aaron in panic and he nodded. 

“Yes, we are dating,” Aaron said, the focus turning to him. “It’s only new so I’d really like for everyone to calm do-”

“How could you do that to me?” Spencer turned to you, sounding broken-hearted. “You go after Hotch to make me, what? Jealous? To make me want you again? I’ve always wanted you, I’ll always want you! You don’t want him, you want me.”

“Spencer, I’m dating Aaron because I love him. Me and you are history, it happened a year ago!”

“It was a 3 year long relationship, you don’t just get over it in a few months,” Spencer seethed. 

“Yeah, it took me a long time, but I am over it.”

“That’s not fair,” Spencer stormed off, clearly upset but no one went after him. The rest of your visit was filled with catching up with people, laughter, and a nice dinner. You and Aaron went back to his house, since you didn’t feel like driving the 4 and half hours home. As you went inside, you saw Jessica, she smiled at you as you caught up, then left when you were done talking. She had been watching Jack and put him to sleep, meaning you and Aaron had the house practically to yourselves. You noticed Aaron had been acting off since the confrontation with Spencer, you assumed it was anger but no, it was something else. You grabbed his hand and sat him on the couch, sitting beside him. 

“Talk to me,” you pleaded, a hand running through his hair.

“About what?” he chuckled, though it lacked humour and life.

“About what’s wrong.”

He stared at you for a moment, then sighed. “I understood Spencer’s point. You shouldn’t want me. I’m not exactly in the prime of my life, I have a child, I’m not exactly up to going clubbing or things like that. You should be with someone your own age. Someone like Spencer-”

“Spencer cheated on me. Aaron, I love you. I love you so much. You’re the most handsome, caring, and loving person I’ve ever met, you’re a brilliant dad, you and I both know I wouldn’t go clubbing either way, and you’re very proficient in other forms of exertion so I wouldn't worry about that. I love you Aaron. You.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, a kiss that soon turned heated. You knew he understood you. You knew he heard you. And you knew you’d be ok. 

You loved him, he loved you.  

------------------------------------------------------------------------------