#when hips are apart its because you don't want to be inappropriate with the other person

[jumpingsnowflakes]

nonverbal aspects of hugging

So y´all know the Lellinger obsession is strong with me but I just saw a photo of Pius´ and Andis´ hug yesterday:

You see: they are hugging but their hips are pretty far apart.

For comparison, some Lellinger hugs that have happened over the past years:

These two are always so freaking close with their whole body.

What does this mean:

"The distance between the two pelvises provides extra space so nothing is misconstrued to be sexual or romantic." (aka Pius and Andi)

"full body touch. tight clasp" "A hug from behind is a surprise hug that signifies deep feelings or is often shared during happy moments." "Heart-to-heart-hug: their hearts come closest, creating an intimate heart-to-heart hug."  (aka Stephan and Andi)

[empressofmankind]

Hooked On You

[Crocodile x F!OC]

Explicit with a capital E

Word count: 1.7k / 5 pages

(A/N) Featuring Crocodile and Shivs when they were still a thing. I don't know what force of nature even kept these two together. Actually, I do. Its shared and unresolved heinous trauma, and coping through mutual enabling with a side dish of codependency. They have so many problems. Gambling problems. Drinking problems. Marital problems. Who's gonna tell them sex isn't therapy? I am counting on you, Robin.

This is the same time frame as 'The House Always Wins', so ten years prior to the actual story and likely after hours at Rain Dinners. There's a joke in here somewhere about trouble in Paradise - literally, as that is where Arabaste is located. I haven't a clue in which larger fic I will stick this, but it is likely a long way off and it felt selfish not to share it.

Tag(s): Absolutely inappropriate use of that hook. Does it count as foreign object play? Probably. Its not a knife but I am going to say knife play because it is a stabbing weapon. I am sure the knife crowd is down. Thoroughly drunk sub, though he ain't sober either. We get a whiff of that daddy vibe of his, too. Obsessive and controlling behaviour? Definitely. Edging? The worst. Begging? Totally. Absolutely filthy language. I keep forgetting how foul-mouthed he is. Some mild degrading? Yes. What else? Are they still dressed? Yes. Married? For better and for much worse. Size difference? Still relevant. Power imbalance? Yes, she's so drunk. And so horny. He could turn her any which way rn.

My sincerest apologies for this title being the worst pun known to man, but the besties were asnooze and I had to make do.

🐊 🐊🐊

Hooked On You

“Ssh,” Crocodile said, his eyes hooded as he gazed down at Shivs, sprawled in his lap and across the couch. Her sparkly cocktail dress hitched up to her waist, showing off dark stockings against pale thighs. Who knew where she'd lost her heels? He stroked a red bang from her eye. It gazed up at him, large with need and drink. Again.

“Careful, honey,” he rumbled as his gaze lingered on her bare pussy. Watching her labia part against the smooth metal as he gingerly ran the tip of his hook between them. Felt her shudder, heard her quiet, plastered moan as her legs twitched towards each other. He didn't like it when she drank this much. “Keep those pretty thighs apart or you'll hurt yourself.”

He spread her open with two fingers, her inner folds slick and shimmering with her juices already. And touched the curved tip against the small, moist folds concealing her entrance. The breathy huff that drew from her fogged his thoughts with hazy lust, the ravenous beast within him stirring from its slumber. She was such a needy thing, and he wanted to see it. Wanted to see her eager little hole contract around the metal, grip at it with no hope of finding purchase. Watch her sweet juices run rivulets down its curve as she came for him, and only him.

She rolled her hips, and he stopped her promptly. Her protesting whine was as slurred as her speech had been. She squirmed, but he kept her put. His hook wasn’t sharp, per say, but it would not give in the way his cock would if she foolishly shoved her needy little cunt into it.

He waited till she stilled, fingertips brushing the edge of lace between stocking and thigh. When he dipped the cool tip between her moist inner folds, her legs twitched further apart for him. And the gluttonous creature inside Crocodile burred happily, devoured the pretty sight. He lightly, carefully, dragged the tip along her inner walls, searching for the sensitive spot just a little ways inside of her on memory alone.

A whimper, when he found it.

Her pitched moan as music to his ears when he stroked it again.

“Oh-ah!” 

Her hands shot down, weakly, drunkenly, scrabbling at the metal as she tried to tug him closer, feel more, feel everything, just the way she would if it were his fingers dug knuckle deep into her moist cunt. But it wasn’t.

“Shh,” Crocodile shushed against her red hair as he gathered her wrists away before she hurt herself with her blind need. She glanced up at him with such drunken lust that he almost forgot he was upset with her.

“You’ll hurt yourself if you’re not careful,” he said, his hooded gaze on her parted lips, her panting breaths. And kissed her as he pressed the tip of his hook against that sweet, sensitive spot, gradually increasing pressure until she squirmed in his lap and moaned into their kiss.

“What is it?” he whispered against her bated breath as he paused and devoured the garbled, indecipherable plea that spilled from her lips. “You want me to fuck you with it? Is that what you want, doll?”

“Y-yes, p-plea-ah!”

Her precious mewls and the way she writhed in his hold with barely contained need spilled like gasoline onto the smouldering fire of his own desire.

“I can’t do that, honey,” he said as he gingerly guided it deeper, tracing the inward curve of her tight vagina, a passage he knew so well. “It’ll hurt you.”

She twisted in his lap and he had to pin her hips down, palm flat against her belly, to stop her rocking into his touch. She absolutely could hurt herself with her reckless, drunken actions.

“N-need. You-ah,” she whined in a tone that made him so hard. Made him want to toss her around, pull up that firm ass and fuck her sopping pussy full of cum like she deserved. A low, guttural groan clawed its way from his throat as he pressed her narrow hips down, pushed her butt unto his aching cock as he held her put. He wrestled the rapacious beast down, but only just. 

Soon, he promised himself.

“G-gim. Me. Ah-shole,” she complained. Her hands fisted into the cushion and the fabric of his pants, her knuckles bright and bruised.

“Ts-tsk. That is no way to talk to your husband.” He carefully withdrew his hook, her slick cunt making a delicious noise around the metal. “Don’t I take good care of you, sweetheart?”

“N-ngh-eed,” she whined as he slid the tip back into her with a smooth, languid push that followed the curve of her tight passage as far as it would go. “N-need you. T-to-oh-OH!”

“To what?” He mused against her hair as he stroked her lower belly, watched the muscles there clench and tremble at the lightest touch. The urge to bury his cock into her warm, snug hole clawed at his sanity like a living thing. He needed to have her. But he wanted to see. Wanted to watch her cramping pussy grasp at the metal as she came for him mewling his name. 

“You need a little help?” Crocodile said as he traced his fingers down to her pubes. “Is that it, doll?”

Shivs nodded, fingers digging into fabric and his thigh, barely managing a reply. “Y-yuh.”

He ran his fingertips in broad, lazy circles around her sensitive bud, never quite touching it. “You need a little help to make your sweet cunny make you feel so good?”

“Y-yes.”

“Why should I? You’ve been nothing but trouble.” He slid his middle finger down through her wet folds, teasing the hot, slick skin where his hook dug into her sensitive, pliable hole. “Tossing patrons, wrecking the floor, ransacking the bar. Why should I reward that kind of behaviour?”

“Am s-so,” she babbled as she arched her hips towards his touch. It felt good. Bad. Better than she’d ever thought it could.

“What was that, doll?”

“Am s-sor,” she wheezed as his thumb ghosted across her clit. “Ror-ry.”

“Didn’t quite catch that.”

“I s-said I am s-sorry!”

“Are you?”He teased her sensitive bud, delighted in the way she twitched, the way her toes curled. “Such sweetly false promises from my darling wife.”

“F-fuck you, C-croc-odile.”

Her fist came at his face half-heartedly, trembling from drink and desire. He caught it and pressed kisses against her bruised knuckles. “Yes, you will.”

When he reached down to rub his ring and middle finger across her clit, her fist latched onto his shirt, her fingers digging into the expensive fabric as she arched into his touch and hook, both, with the loveliest raw cry. He relished how much she wanted it.

He gathered her closer to him, keeping her hips locked against his own to stop them moving. He massaged her needy bud firmly, rubbing his fingers roughly against her the way he knew she craved. “Say my name again.”

“Hnn. Mmm. Croco-dile,” she whined drunkenly.

A deep grunt escaped him, his cock throbbing beneath her as he rubbed her aching bud between his fingers. He drew his hook back, lightly caressing the tip along her inner walls, searching. 

“Again.” 

“Croc-oh-dile!”

He could tell from her pitch he’d found it. The spot he knew would make her see stars.

“Once more?” he rumbled into her ear as she trembled against him, so ready to reward him. To show him what he wanted, needed. He watched her tether for a breathless moment, watched her slick pussy clench around his hook. Then nudged her across with a sudden, sharp tap into that sweet, sweet spot.

“Cro-oh. Ah! Yes!” she wailed, and he savoured the way his name broke as she lost it.  “P-plea-uh. Yess!” 

He struggled to keep her trashing in check as her orgasm ripped through her. Forcefully pinned down her narrow hips as they bucked against his firm grip. He kept the pressure on her little cum spot, rubbed her clit through her peak. His hungry gaze fixed on her sopping pussy, watching her tight hole spams around his hook. Her sweet cum gushing out, running down the slick metal and dripping from its curve.

She was perfect like this, and all his. 

And always would be.

“My darling wife is such a pretty slut, and ever so sweet to me,” he murmured into her ear as she calmed down, her panting breath slowing, steadying. The sweet trembles racking her body subsiding. “Able to cum on anything I put in her needy little hole. Even my hook.”

He drank in her blissful, fucked-out look as she gazed up at him through heavy lashes, the caress of too much alcohol lingering behind her flushed cheeks and bright eye. Her lips were parted, an edge of teeth visible. 

He withdrew his hook, and groaned at her meek whine and the way she reached for it. She was such a needy little thing. The ever-hungry creature within him stirred with a satisfied burr, never quite done feasting on her, devouring her every word, action, noise, sin. 

“You know what I am going to do after this?” 

He brushed her fussy touch from his hook, caught her fingers in his own as he rested the slick metal against her flat belly. The ravenous beast roared, no longer tolerating being ignored.

“I am going to wreck your pretty cunt and stuff it full of cum until you come apart beneath me,” he said as he pressed a kiss against her bruised knuckles, catching her bright, greedy gaze. “You need that, don’t you, honey?”

He didn’t wait for an answer.

🐊 🐊🐊

Horny hell seat reservations - @ruledbyproblematique @littlemountainwolf @fanaticsnail @tiredemomama

[ungraceds]

it'd   be   hypocritical   for   him   to   psychoanalyze   the   other   ,   especially   with   his   messy   track   record   ,   but   can't   help   the   way   he   tries   to   pick   him   apart   piece   by   delicious   piece   .   wanting   nothing   more   than   to   dive   into   that   pretty   head   of   his   and   see   how   deep   the   waters   go   .   "   seems   like   you   have   a   knack   for   chasing   things   that   aren't   good   for   you   ,   "   hums   in   consideration   ,   "   your   feet   ever   get   tired   ?   "   as   if   he   isn't   the   worst   thing   for   him   .   for   anybody   .   but   even   that   knowledge   does   nothing   to   satiate   the   beast   roaring   its   ugly   head   at   the   notion   that   he's   leaving   on   the   arm   of   anybody   else   here   .   gaze   sparks   at   his   bullshit   response   ,   "   half   -   price   drinks   ,   huh   ..   "   palm   flies   up   without   warning   to   grasp   the   back   of   his   neck   and   yanks   his   head   back   until   it's   tilted   perfectly   for   him   .   if   only   he   were   always   this   pliant   .   leans   in   close   ,   their   noses   brushing   as   he   inhales   deeply   and   a   big   ,   wolf   -   like   grin   stretches   across   his   lips   .   "   then   why   don't   i   smell   any   liquor   on   your   breath   ?   "   their   eyes   lock   and   he'll   hold   him   there   just   like   that   ,   for   a   few   inappropriate   beats   ,   before   slowly   releasing   him   .   "   your   world   may   not   revolve   around   me   ,   but   i   know   i'm   in   your   head   and   i   bet   it   drives   you   fuckin'   crazy   .   "   gaze   falters   to   the   delicate   bob   of   his   throat   and   teeth   clench   with   the   urge   to   sink   in   ,   and   bite   .   claim   him   as   his   own   when   he's   far   from   it   .   always   so   eager   to   remind   him   of   it   ,   too   .   like   now   ,   when   he's   spouting   out   at   the   mouth   about   being   on   his   knees   for   somebody   else   .   like   he   wouldn't   burn   the   whole   place   to   the   ground   just   to   prove   a   point   .   drops   his   head   again   ,   lips   ghosting   over   his   ear   as   a   large   palm   boldly   settles   on   his   hip   ,   "   keep   talking   like   that   and   i'll   bury   him   six   feet   under   with   my   bare   hands   .   him   ,   and   whoever   else   you're referring   to   .   is   that   what   you   want   ,   baby   ?   because   i'm   happy   to   deliver   .   "

cruz can't even bring himself to be offended. it is something he should work on, but that would require a little too much self-reflection and he's not quite ready to dive into that mess. thinks if he was to even dare crack the floodgates open an inch then he'd drown. " maybe, " he shrugs, like it's oh so casual. like standing here talking to kash doesn't make him second guess everything. " but i don't think i'll work on that tonight, or anytime soon. " he's clinging to it — or he's trying to at the very least — the composure that seems to be slipping from his white knuckled grip with every passing second. he fears that the other can see right through him, that despite everything he's trying to conceal, his eyes give it all away. " half-price drinks, " he's quick to respond, though the truth is he isn't even a big drinker, has always preferred the feeling of getting high than getting wasted, " too good of a deal to pass up. hard as it might be to get through your head, my world doesn't actually revolve around you. " in this moment it feels like it might, however. every other voice drowned out, focus entirely on kash and no matter how much he wills it, he can't tear his doe-eyed stare away. caught in a trap, just like he always seems to be. chest to chest and now there's a lump in his throat, swallows it down a little too noticeably. threatens to spread goosebumps across his skin and kash hasn't even touched him properly yet. he might feel pathetic if there wasn't such a rush at the mere thought of it. " yeah, " he exhales, smoke filling the space between offering him a moment of reprieve, " a lot of people prefer me like that. i'm sure he won't be an exception. " but he doesn't really want to leave with him, does he ? not now. not when it's so clear that part of him still belongs elsewhere.

[dear-yandere]

delirium.

yandere! zhongli, childe, xiao, scaramouche x gn! reader.

not sfw (18+) scenarios, liyue + fatui edition.

tw: dubcon + alcohol (xiao), noncon (childe, scaramouche), blood (childe), implied physical abuse + exhibitionism (scaramouche).

disclaimer: this is not a healthy relationship (apart from zhongli’s...maybe).

art belongs to ぐみ, kaskia, and kureiiro.

zhongli

he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

your lips are someplace they shouldn’t be and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. his fingers—fingers that have conquered humans and gods alike—sit awkwardly on your hips, twitching with embarrassment and pleasure for each kiss you lay upon his neck. he’s warm there, just how you like it, and you waste no time laying hotter, wetter kisses along the apex of his jawline.

“t...” he catches himself before he can stutter like a fool. “this is inappropriate, my beloved.” he clears his throat, and you’re quick to silence him with another kiss.

“this is what you wanted.” you playfully remind, not once missing the pink blush on his cheeks. 6,000 years old, and he has never done this with someone he loves; you suppose you should take that as a compliment, but really, you’re just excited by the thrill of dominating a god in bed. 

“i suppose you’re correct, but this still doesn’t feel...” he starts, but his eyes get caught on the way your legs are straddling his hips;  he draws a sharp breath, an embarrassment washing over him.

you laugh, and it’s like music to his ears. “this is what lovers do, zhongli. that’s what we are, isn’t it?” you tilt your head, your smile coy. “it says so right in the contract.”

ah. he can’t argue with that, so he shuts up.

you giggle in triumph and continue your ministrations, paying his awkward touches and clumsy kisses no mind. it’s cute, the way he’s trying so desperately to restrain himself; you sort of want to see him... snap.

the lower your kisses get, the more he questions why he’d ever want you to stop. and he reminds himself that you’re right, that your lips belong there. they belong on him... just like lovers do. then... as it stands, letting you straddle him to the futon is fulfilling no such obligation. as your loving husband, it’s his duty to see to it that you’re well taken care of.

it’s in the contract, after all.

you’re on your back before your lips can reconnect with his skin. 

“allow me.“

tartaglia + fatui! darling

"does my little mouse want to cum?”

childe pushes his hair back to get a better look at your pitiful state. you’re standing on your knees, battered and blooded from the fight he’d forced you into, and your cheeks are stained with tears and dirt. his gaze locks onto your face, analyzing your reaction to the cock stuffed down your throat—and the dagger pressed against your jugular. 

your whimpers died down a while ago. must’ve realized you lost this battle in its entirety.

“you were so full of yourself earlier.” childe jeers, enjoying the way you squirm with humiliation at the thought. you’ve always been aware that the difference in skill between you and him was far too great to warrant anything close to a win in battle, but the situation you’re in now does nothing but add insult to injury.

just how he likes it.

“now that i have a fistful of your hair and i’ve brought you to your knees, you have nothing to say.” his laughter bounces from the walls without a care for who hears. “for all that strength you tout, you can’t even handle this?” he tugs your head back, admiring the way your bloodied face contorts with pain when a few strands of hair come with it. “how pathetic.”

you’re tempted to bring your teeth down onto his—

“bite and i’ll cut your tongue off.” he smiles. you’re not safe even in your own thoughts. “if you’re good, i’ll even help patch those wounds up for you. doubt you can reach most of them by yourself.” he chuckles, and you recall that he deliberately aimed at places you can’t reach. your back is covered with a litany of fresh wounds and blood, and your arm have so many small wounds it’d be impossible to reach your back on your own.

bastard.

your lips instinctively squeeze around his dick; to your displeasure, he moans, and a laugh soon follows. “careful, sugar. don't squeeze so hard my cock slips out.” he hums and bucks into your mouth. you nearly gag when he hits the back of your throat.

“we’ve hardly started.”

xiao

“oi, take responsibility.”

your eyes are shameful when they avert to the side, your skin dusted with hot embarrassment and arousal. the sight before you was one you could’ve imagined only in your wildest dreams —the esteemed adepti xiao’s legs spread around either of your ears, his eyes blurry with excitement and sake. his pale skin is red with the effects of liquor and arousal, and his lips are twisted into a lopsided smile; it looks like it’s taking all of his facial muscles to keep the expression intact.

he’s not in his right mind, but you know better than to disobey his orders. xiao is a patient man lest you cross him; and, despite his keen affections for you, you’re no more exempt from those rules than the archons themselves.

so you purse your lips and nod; he seems pleased at that. 

you hear him draw a sharp, excited breath when your fingers venture to the belt keeping his pants up; on his exhale, he can hardly contain his delight when the fabric around his waist loosens and slides down his thighs. atop his warm skin, your fingers twitch with fear and elation.

even in his drunken state, he senses your hesitation. you nearly yelp when his hand shoots out and grabs hold of yours, but his grip is nothing short of gentle. they hold yours as if you are something to be treasured; despite all he’s threatened to do to you when he’s in a fit of rage, you can’t help but feel more at ease.

you let him take your hand.

his hands are flushed and shaky as they guide yours to the tip of his cock. you draw a shaky breath, the feel of his skin foreign. this will be your first time with him; you remind yourself that you shouldn’t be doing this. he’s drunk, he’s not in his right mind. but if you don’t, he’ll...

he cuts your train of thought with a sharp tug of your chin, pulling your head closer to his throbbing member. he doesn’t have to speak for you to understand what he wants.

“suck.”

if you don’t, there’s far worse in store.

scaramouche

“aw, are you going to cry? beg me to stop?”

you hurriedly shake your head.

“go on then. tell me what’s the matter, pet.” he nudges your bruised cheek with his knee; the skin there still stings from his earlier assault. you’ve learned since then—to be a good pet, to listen to him when he speaks, to do as he says without question nor hesitation. “have you gone mute already?” he sighs and rests his head against his knuckles. “that’d be no fun...”

you just want him to let you go.

you shake your head once more, uttering a small ‘no’ to sate his admonishments. you’ve learned not to speak unless spoken to. you’re better off that way.

“you were running your mouth earlier. where did all that bravado go, i wonder?” scaramouche’s lips twitch into a cruel smile. looking at you now, no one would ever think you were talking back to him only minutes ago. poor little thing, you had to be put in your place. you’re curled onto your knees now, shaking like a newborn pup, and he likes you better that way.

you deserve a reward.

he offers a pitying caress against your raw cheek; his skin is frigid to the touch, and you lean into it more so to relieve the hot ache of your bruise than because you’ve been instructed to do so. he accepts your subservience all the same, so long as you’re subservient to him.

“strip.” 

he barks another order and your body immediately goes stiff. normally, you would have shot up and done exactly as he wished, but you didn’t. not this time, not with the prying eyes of his envoy watching your humiliation in full display. you didn’t want it to come to this, to be disrobed and ridiculed before anyone other than him. if you were alone... it was just him, you could’ve lived with the shame, because no one would know but him. 

and he knows that.

when you don’t move fast enough to his liking, he kicks into your stomach—light enough that there won’t be bruises. you’ve been so wonderful lately; it’d be a shame if you ended your good streak now.

 “my precious, stupid little pet. you’ll do well to remember that when i say something, you do it. quickly.” his tone is final. 

“else i’ll have my men strip you themselves.”

dear-yandere, all rights reserved.

[johnsamericano]

𝔖𝔲𝔤𝔞𝔯 ℜ𝔲𝔰𝔥 𝔧.𝔧.𝔥 •2•

Hi hi! I'm back with another chapter. This one might not be as good(?, it's a really fluffy chapter so bear with me.

warnings: sugar daddy jae, he's a big baby, tooth rotting, kinda long.

sugar rush m.list.

taglist: @thoreeo @trustmahluv @sunny-nyu @nanascupid @silent-potato

“Sir, there’s a girl asking to see you.”

“Hey, I’m not a girl!” He chuckled as his finger pressed the button to communicate with his secretary.

“Hey, I’m not a girl!” He chuckled as his finger pressed the button to communicate with his secretary.

“Hey, I’m not a girl!” He chuckled as his finger pressed the button to communicate with his secretary.

“Let her in.”

Only a few seconds later, your head was peeking through his door.

“I brought you coffee.” You extended your hand out, showing him the carton containing two iced drinks. “Are you busy?”

“Not at all, come in.” You sat on the elegant, individual sofa in front of him, his desk serving as a separation. “Are you here to spy on me? Don't you trust me with your father's case?” He pouted, typing something in his keyboard while your palms started sweating.

How could you not trust the man with the highest case winning index in the whole country?

Briefly, after your encounter with the other lawyer, you'd googled him as well as his company. Because of his incredibly high fees, he didn't have many clients, but those few who had enough money to cost him were almost assured to be on the winning side. So then, why hadn't an excellent lawyer like him popped up when you'd first looked for popular firms? Simple, he wasn't popular.

Just like a hidden gem, only a few had the pleasure to know Yoonoh, and you felt beyond grateful for paying that stupid membership weeks ago.

“No, no!” You were quick to defend yourself, frantically shaking your hands to support your previous statement. “Just wanted to be of help.”

Truth to be told, after receiving your first weekly allowance, an unsettling feeling had been squeezing your heart ever since. Call it guilt or whatever, but it didn't set right to be receiving si much help from him when you hadn't had the chance to do anything in return. The least you could do was trying to be polite.

“You shouldn't be spending your money on me. I'm the one supposed to spoil you, remember?” He grabbed the plastic container by the lid, sipping the bitter liquid with an amused smile. “But thank you.”

“I paid my rent yesterday.” You blurted out, trying to avoid the uncomfortable silence threatening to settle between the two of you. “And I still have money left to save for my father's hospital bills, maybe even buy a present for my aunt.”

He admired how noble you were, making sure those around you had enough before even thinking to do something for yourself.

“I have a party this Friday, would you like to attend with me?” Your presence wasn't required as it wasn't a big event, but by the look in your eyes, he knew you were itching to do something in return for his kindness.

“Yes, of course!” Your orbs sparkled with excitement, finally feeling yourself useful.

“If you don't mind waiting, we can go buy something for you to wear right after I finish with this.” For what seemed like the tenth time in less than ten minutes, small beads of sweat rolled down the back of your neck. Thank God he wasn't able to see them. “Oh, come on, don't give me that look!”

“You’ve already done so much for me. I can buy the clothes myself, don't worry.” With a deep sigh, Yoonoh rose from his chair, taking long strides to surround the desk separating you. “W-what are you doing?” Now kneeling on the floor beneath you, his face was dangerously close to yours, coffee breath crashing against your nose.

“Using mind control to convince you to let me take you out.” He stared at you for a couple more seconds before saying: “Is it working?”

“I think your mind control is broken.” You whisper, unable to hold back the small giggles bubbling at the back of your throat.

“How about now?” He batted his eyelashes, trying to act cute despite his bold features. You shook your head.

Just as you thought it was over, his hand went up to cup your jaw, his thumb drawing uneven figures on the ticklish skin.

“How about now?” He repeated. You stammered, unsure of what to say. “Sorry, that was inappropriate.” Aware of your awkwardness and the rising heat in your cheeks, he stood up, walking back to his chair. “But I do want to get you something, would you let me?”

With your mind busy and your guard low, you nodded, unaware of the silly smile on his face.

“I have a few novels on my shelf in case you want something to kill time.”

“Thank you.” You moved to the huge bookshelf facing his desk, grateful your face wasn't visible anymore.

The books were ordered by genre and size, starting from the biggest law-related textbooks to pocket-sized novels, ending with the smallest one he had. The little prince.

Your eyes widened in disbelief. Yoonoh didn't seem to be the type to read that kind of heartbreaking yet beautiful book. Nonetheless, as many said, you can't judge a book by its cover.

An hour or two later, you were halfway into the first book of flowers in the attic, immersed in the small world the author had created. Yoonoh had finished his work a few minutes before, but distracting you when you were reading so vividly, seemed like a crime. He enjoyed the way your eyebrows would knit together every time something shocking happened, clearly too immersed in the novel to notice his intense gaze.

“Y/n...” He whispered once he noticed you were starting a new chapter. You blinked twice, hands clutching the book tightly as you noticed he had finished his work. “You can take it home, don't worry.”

“Sure?” He flashed his pretty dimples as his eyes turned into half-moons.

“You can come back for the rest of the saga when you finish this one. Take as many books as you please, I’ve already read them all.”

“Thank you.” Another act of kindness you had no way of returning. His favors just seemed to be piling up before you could even return any. “Would you like to have dinner with me today? I'm a great cook, or so did my father said.” You blurted out quickly, twisting your hands nervously as you waited for an answer.

“I’d love to. But I might have to attend some work calls if you don't mind.”

“I don't, maybe I'll even have time to bake a cake while you're at it.” God, how bad he wanted to take a picture of that adorably nervous smile.

“Great, so it's settled. Dinner at your place after we go shopping.” He had already put his blazer on, offering his arm to guide you out. With shaky fingers and sweaty armpits, you grabbed it, walking by his side with his secretary’s gazed glued on you. So much for a girl, huh?

Once seated in his car, with the book resting on your lap, you allowed yourself to relax. Yoonoh wasn't a bad person, on the contrary, he was very kind, so there was no use in keeping your guard up when he was around.

“Ready to roll?” You cringed at his use of slang, making him drop his head back to laugh. “What? Isn't it a thing you cool young adults say?”

“Maybe twenty years ago, Yoonoh.” It was the very first time you used his name so informally, and, oh how good it felt to hear you saying it?

“Fine, I won't use it anymore.” He poked your arm like a little child, and for a moment, you wondered if he was actually more than a decade older.

Several bad jokes, two dresses, and a quick stop at the grocery store later, you arrived at your apartment. Yoonoh held everything while you entered the passcode, struggling not to drop a can of vegetables that was starting to bend the edge of the paper bag.

“Ready, hand me something.” You both entered with your hands packed with different things. You went to your room to leave the new dresses while Yoonoh set the paper bags down on the kitchen counter.

“So...” He clapped loudly. “What are we cooking?”

“I bought the ingredients for lasagna. Is that okay with you?” He nodded, lips pressed and dimples in display. “Alright, let's do this.”

It would've been of great help if Yoonoh had told you he didn't know how to cook. But of course, part of the fault was yours for not noticing when he tried to add ketchup to the recipe.

“I burnt it.” He looked at the semi-carbonized pasta with disgust, feeling ashamed of having ruined your dish. “Let’s just throw it away and order something.” He was about to touch the hot container until your grip on his wrist halted his movements.

“We just pulled it out of the oven.” You shook your head in disbelief at the man standing in front of you.

“Sorry.”

Despite Yoonoh’s endless complaining, you ate the lasagna. The flavor wasn't that bad when you scratched off the burnt parts, especially when accompanied by a cold glass of wine.

“It’s not that bad.” You repeated over and over again. A phone call interrupted him from self-pitying any further. “Go on, take it.” You continued eating while he spoke in the living room.

It wasn't until a couple of minutes later that you realized he was whisper yelling at whoever was on the other line. It was your first time seeing him angry, and you didn't like it one bit. The way his face turned completely stoic, his eyes cold as his hand rested on his hip. Sweet, caring, Yoonoh was gone.

“I told you I needed it for today.” He said through gritted teeth. “You better get it before I arrive back at the office, or you can find yourself another job.” Even after he hung up, Yoonoh stood in the middle of the shared area, clutching his phone so tightly, it seemed like it would break any minute.

You wanted to ask if everything was alright, if he needed any help, but most importantly, if the things he needed were related to your father's case, but all the words stuck to your throat like insects in a spider web.

“I need to go.” He simply said, not even bothering to fake a smile. “Thank you for dinner, I'll see you on Friday.” With his free hand, he grabbed the coat hanging from his chair and left, slamming the door on his way out.

Was that the real Yoonoh?

A shiver ran down your spine. What had you gotten into? From what you'd seen, it was only about time he would show his true self to you as well.

All the trust you'd built up during the day, had crumbled down in a matter of seconds. The worst part? You didn't even feel entitled to be scared, not after all he'd done for you.

‘Just keep your distance.’ You repeated like a mantra as you got ready for bed, leaving the book you'd borrowed right where he'd left it, afraid it would burn your fingertips even with the slightest touch.

(...)

The week wasn't nearly as long as you'd wanted it to be, and soon enough, you were struggling to zip the dress you'd bought days ago. Your makeup was done, and Yoonoh had texted you he was on his way, yet, you'd been fighting with the zipper for at least ten minutes. Your fingers were cramping, and the clock was ticking.

Just when you'd finally started to drag the small piece of metal, the doorbell startled you, causing you to let go of it.

“Fuck!” Have you ever felt so desperate that tears start pricking your eyes? Well, that was the exact case happening at the moment.

You opened the door with the salty water collecting at the corner of your eyes, surprising Yoonoh, who was wearing his best dimply smile.

“What’s wrong?” He had a bouquet poorly hidden behind his back, probably to apologize for the night he abruptly left and almost knocked down your door.

“I-I can't zip up my dress.” Your voice came out shaky, giving away the emotions burning your gut. Thankfully, Yoonoh didn't seem to notice, and if he did, he didn't mention it.

“I’ll help you.” He, not-so-discretely, put down the bouquet, gently turning you around to your discomfort. His cold hands touched your back as he dragged the zip up, noticing how tense you were but deciding not to comment on it. “Oh! You haven't moved the book from where I left it.”

“I haven't had time to read.” He hummed, crouching to reach for the bouquet and hand it to you. “Thank you.”

“It’s my way of apologizing for the fit I threw a couple of days ago.” A fit? That was one way to call it.

“It’s okay.” You lied as you pushed the corners of your lips to form a credible smile. “Let’s get going.”

The flowers were left on the kitchen counter before you left. The ride in the elevator was awfully quiet, and Yoonoh had no idea what had happened. You were so chatty the last time he saw you, so of course, he was taken aback by the sudden change.

“It’s not going to take long, so we can head out for some drinks later if you'd like...” You nodded, for you knew speaking would only expose your discomfort. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah! Just nervous about the party, that's all.”

You stood by Yoonoh’s side for the rest of the evening, smiling and nodding at his acquaintances’ comments. At one point in the evening, a man, not much older than you, approached you both with a wide smile.

“Dude, I hadn't seen you in ages. Stop sending your workers and come see me yourself.” They hugged. Why were they hugging?

“Y/n, this is my brother, Sungchan.” The man with puppy-like eyes embraced you tightly, almost as if welcoming you to his family. “Sungchan, this is y/n, my girlfriend.” He said it so naturally, it’d take a detective to figure out the truth about your relationship.

“I’ve heard a lot about you. I'm sorry for your father. But don't worry, we'll take those bastards down.”

“I’m not following...” You blinked repeatedly, eyes going back and forth between Yoonoh and his brother.

“Sungchan is a doctor. I asked him to look at your father's case for further evidence. My assistant was supposed to pick up the report the day we had dinner, but she forgot to drop by. Now we’re a day behind schedule.” The dark cloud surrounding him seemed to be slowly dissipating as you heard his explanation. “This is an important case, and I want to be as meticulous as possible.”

Thank you didn't seem the right thing to say at the moment, at least not with Sungchan standing there, so you simply grabbed his hand, squeezing it to let him know how grateful you were.

To your surprise, he didn't even flinch as he locked your hands together, causing a small giggle from Sungchan.

“Okay, love birds, I'll get going.” He waved you goodbye, making his way to another table where his friend waited for him.

“Can we talk?” You whispered in his ear, afraid one of the numerous attendants would hear you.

“Sure.” Without letting go of your hand, he drove you to a small, private garden just outside the ballroom. “Are you gonna tell me what's wrong now?” His thumb caressed your knuckles with gentle strokes.

“I’m so sorry.”

“What for?”

“I pushed you away at the minimum trouble when you were only helping me.” He hummed as if he already knew about it. “And it will probably happen again, so please, be patient with me. I'm going through-” Your face collided against his chest as his arms draped over your shoulders, squeezing you tightly.

“Call me reckless, but I've wanted to do this for a while.” Your hands hung at the sides of your torso, unsure what to do next. “You can push me away, I'll understand...”

Instead, your palm found its place in his back, rubbing up and down the designer jacket. Your hair started turning messy from the night breeze, some strands striking Yoonoh’s chin as his embrace only grew tighter.

“Let’s get out of here.” He mumbled, crawling the back of your head with his hand. “Sungchan can deal with my father's friends.”

“Are you sure?” His hum vibrated through his chest, making you giggle at the odd feeling.

Once seated in his car, his hand found yours like a magnet, the warmth emanating from it comfortably enveloping your skin.

The calmness of the atmosphere was interrupted by a call from his brother, who seemed to be anxiously explaining something through the phone.

“Just tell him I had a work emergency.” With that said, he hung up, placing his hand back again on top of yours. “Sorry, he said it was urgent.”

“It’s okay.” An unsettling feeling pinched your stomach, but you decided to dismiss it, immersed in the chilly weather of the dark streets.

You arrived at the river, where Yoonoh asked you to wait for him while he bought a couple of beers. It was a sight to see, both of you clad in fancy clothes, barefoot and chugging down can after can.

“I think I like being with you.” You declared, mind fuzzy from the alcohol intake.

“I think I like it too.” The tips of his ears were rosy, revealing he was as intoxicated as you, maybe even more.

“Would you like to visit my father with me tomorrow?” The words flew out of your mouth before you could even realize. Afraid you'd killed the mood, you tried to excuse yourself, only to be interrupted by his lips grazing your ear, placing a timid kiss on your lobe.

“I’d love to.” It was the sweetest peck, no ulterior motives behind it, just pure affection.

“Are we going too fast?” In your drunken state, what you had felt like a real relationship, not a simple agreement. And this sure felt like a first date.

“We’re moving at our own pace, I believe.” He dropped his head on your shoulder, pressing against it to relieve the dizziness clouding his mind. “Are you okay with that? Maybe you don't want to be with an old creep like me, and I'd totally get it. Just don't let me get my hopes up if that's the case.”

“You might be old, but definitely not a creep.” Your fingers combed through his abundant hair as your mind wandered into the future, grateful for the fact that he wouldn't become bald soon. “Or are you?”

“I don't think so.” Anyone who walked by would've seen a couple of goofs, too intoxicated to talk without slurring the words, but you were living in your own, comfy bubble. “I should get you home before it gets too late. Come on, I'll call a driver.” He tried getting on his feet to no avail, stumbling back a little before falling back on his ass.

“My apartment is nearby. You can stay for the night.” You grabbed both pairs of shoes as his arm surrounded your shoulder for assistance. “If you keep supporting your whole weight on me, we're both gonna fall.” People on the street shot you a couple of funny looks, which was understandable since it wasn't usual to see two drunk idiots walking barefoot in the middle of the night.

“How long till-” Hiccup. “-we get there?” His stare seemed to worsen with every step. “God, I think I might throw up.”

“Stop acting like a teenager, we're almost there.”

As soon as you arrived at the small apartment, you sat him down on the little step where you changed your shoes. You left both pairs on the rack, proceeding to put on slippers to enter the house.

“Don’t leave me here!” He whined, stomping his feet like a little kid.

“Just wait for a second!” His attitude was starting to get on your nerves to the point where you couldn't feel the effects of the beer anymore.

You grabbed a rag from the kitchen cabinet and dampened it under the sink. Yoonoh was half asleep when you walked back to him.

“My head hurts.” He mumbled as you sat in front of him, placing his left foot on your lap. “What are you doing?”

“I don't have any slippers that will fit you, and I don't want your dirty feet making my house dirty.” With utmost delicacy, you wiped away the dirt from his toes, noticing the small scratches caused by the gravel he walked on.

He touched your hair while you finished with his other foot, tangling the strands with fascination.

“Done, get up.”

He followed your indications as you guided him to your room, where you laid him down on his side in case he threw up.

“Are we visiting your father tomorrow?” He asked while snuggling under the covers.

“Sure.” You cleared his forehead from the strands falling in it, grazing the soft skin of his forehead. “Sweet dreams, gigantic baby.”

[strongsassysexysloane]

Physical Touch

Jack Sloane X Reader: You're craving it, it's distracting you from work and she isn't helping at all. But maybe she can help however first she has to make you work for it.

. . .

Head scratches, massaging your hair, playing with your hair, these were all things you missed so much. Sometimes being single for so long really make your mind wonder to the smaller things about being in a relationship.

Sure the sex and kissing was always a plus but the intimate touches, invading personal space and the cuddling were almost better than sex most days. Maybe you just hadn't had really good sex in a while. A long while.

You laughed at yourself and pushed those thoughts out of your head and got back to zoning in on the report you were trying to finish for the last hour. This was the third tangent your mind had taken over the last hour. It had been a long day , longer than usual because you woke up early and couldn't go back to sleep. That ended with you being at work in the gym at around 04.30.

There was only one other person in there and you really shouldn't of been surprised about who it was. The one person you wouldn't mind getting head scratches from, hell you wouldn't mind having - you stopped yourself short of finishing that thought. It wasn't late enough and you were still in the office. Back to the gym, you knew she worked out before work and the NCIS gym was her go to. She was punching away at the bag too focused to notice you walk in. That gave you a moment to watch her, see her muscles work and the sweat drip slowly down her back. She was stunning and you needed to stop staring.

"y/n...Y/N!" Gibbs yelled.

You looked up at him from behind your computer, flushed from your memory. "Sorry boss. What do you need?" The memories of this morning still clouding your mind. You watched as he waved around a file so you got up and collected it before he replied or threw it at you. Flicking it open you knew exactly what he wanted, why was it always you? It's like he wanted to torture you.

Did he know what you were just thinking about?

No. Absolutely not. He would've kicked your ass if he did.

He raised a brow and you turned on the spot and headed towards Jack's office at high speed. You needed to clear your head of her in just a sports bra and low hanging track pants before you reached her office.

Was there a cold shower on the way?

There wasn't and you were already at her door and the image of her this morning hadn't budged. You knocked before entering, as her door was only ever shut if she was with someone.

It took a beat before, "Come in.." She called and there was a mumble of words before you opened the door. "Great timing! See you next w-time Sonya." She shook the older woman's hand and you made awkward eye contact with the woman from accounting as you entered and she exited, leaving the door open behind you. "Got those Dune files for me?"

"Direct from Gibbs eager fingers." You joked and handed them to her, she was sitting rather professionally on the couch which lead you to believe that last meeting was more professional than pleasure. "Was that-" You shook your head, it wasn't any of your business and she wouldn't tell you anyway.

"Smart woman." Jack smirked, not looking up from the file she had open in her lap. It took her about five seconds before she shifted and toed her heels off and crossed her legs on the couch.

"Much better." You laughed which got her attention.

" you making fun of me Agent l/n?" Her right brow was raised, her smirk daring you to play along with the devious look in her eye.

" Would I do that?" You were just out of her reach which was why she opted for throwing her pen at you instead of hitting you like she usually did when you were being a little playful shit. You caught the pen as it hit you in the middle of your chest with not too much force.

This only made you laugh harder but seeing her arm throw had your mind back in the gym again. You cleared your throat which was a mistake. " Something on your mind."

It wasn't a question, she knew there was. She probably could read you like a book right now which was why the next word out of your mouth was a huge mistake. "No." Said with so little conviction. Just like this morning when she caught you staring, more like drooling.

Jack was off her couch in an instant. She caressed your hand before taking her pen back. At least it felt like a caress, she always left lingering touches, maybe that's why you were craving them so much lately. She almost gave you enough to tease but never enough to satisfy.

Would there ever be enough to satisfy?

She was in your personal space since you didn't budge and you were both as stubborn as each other. That's probably why you were still in the friends borderlining on inappropriate office behaviour with the touches and flirtatious moments you two have on a daily basis.

You looked down at her hand, her fingers still brushing against yours. "You like to touch everyone or are you just teasing me?"

"I'm a very physical touch kind of person.." That smile that always left your stomach in knots curved her lips.

You tried so hard to to hide your disappointment, so hard.

"But..." Her fingers grazed up your wrist, probably felt your raging pulse, up your arm. "I enjoy touching you most."

You laughed at her sudden frown and scrunched up nose from how the words came out.

" That, that was meant to sound less disgusting and more.."

"Alluring? Teasing? Seductive?" You were mere centrermetres apart, her fingers wrapping around your wrist, she definitely felt your pulse now.

"All of those work." Her eyes darted down to your lips and back up to your eyes.

You swallowed watching her eyes, your tongue coming out to moisten your lips, they were suddenly dry. Her smirk, devilishly so back on her lips. "Jack..." You breathed, her eyes going soft.

"The way you say my name."

"Sloane.."

She shook her head, the soft smile playing at her lips. You had the same effect on her that she had on you, it was clear as day on her face right now. "What?"

"Kiss me or I may never get that report done downstairs."

She only moved forward slightly, teasingly so. "Something distracting you?" Her lips ghosting over yours.

You groaned and she grinned. "Only for the last year or so."

"That lo-" You couldn't wait any longer, she was practically kissing you anyway, you just added a little more pressure and crushed your lips together. As soon as you made contact with her lips she almost jumped you. Her hands grabbing your hips, crashing them together, your hands threading through her long blonde locks.

There was a pop when you pulled back, needing air and to come back to earth.

"You good at head massages?" Her hand coming up to where yours had been seconds ago. Her other hand still at your hip, her thumb drawing circles over your shirt.

"Only of you're good at back rubs?" You smiled, your fingers threading through her hair again, fingers massaging her head. She relaxed into your touch, closing her eyes.

"I'm the best at back rubs." She all but purred at your touch.

You pulled back, her eyes snapped open and you laughed at her little groan. "It's a date. My place in an hour?"

"I'll bring pizza and icecream."

"I can't believe I'm about to say this because you know how much I love our pizza and icecream nights but Jack, don't bother."

"Wow."

"You're more than enough." That got you another passionate, slow kiss with a very smooth butt squeeze which made you laugh and break the kiss.

"Get going otherwise our physical touch time will be delayed."

"Can't have that." You smirked, pecking her lips before skipping out of her office.

You finished that report in twenty minutes. Jack was in your arms in 45.

. . .

I kinda edited but not as much as I normally do so apologies if its, eh. :)