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btskitten7 · 2 years

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Acquired Love||

Acquired Love || introduction

⟢ Fic Pairing: Jungkook x Female OC, Hoseok x Female OC, Yoongi x Female OC

⟢ Current WC: 3.2k

⟢ Genres: fluff, angst, smut, exs, best friend, lovers, new flings.

⟢ Warnings: asshole but sweet ex/baby daddy that’s still very much in love with you, best friend that’s very much in love with you, and new fling that’s….very much in love with you. Separated parents (Jungkook and fem oc/reader), some fighting & harsh words, toxic relationships.

⟢ summary : You and Jungkook welcome a beautiful baby girl into the world shorty after you call things off. You both clearly moved on but there’s still something that brings you back to one another. Your best friend, Yoongi has decided to make up where Jungkook lacked when it came your daughter by being your baby sitter when you need him. Shortly after you start seeing Hoseok but your still wrapped up with Jungkook and now Yoongi is starting to act weird..

What does a girl do?

“Come on, I’m going to be late” you whisper to yourself as you frantically knock on your ex’s door repeatedly while managing to keep a hold of your daughter’s bag as well as her small body clung to your side.

She looked at you with big doe eyes like her daddy used to and you hated to admit that it always warms your heart, but it did. The same eyes that made you fall into a childish love.

“Daddy is going to make mommy late” you giggle as you slightly wiped her little drool with her bib.

You broke things off with Jungkook before you had your sweet girl and this was one, of many reasons, why you did.

At the worst times, he would be so unreliable. You found yourself blowing Jungkook’s phone up one night while you were pregnant. It was a false alarm but you felt that you were going into labor from all the Braxton hicks that you’ve mistaken for contractions.

He was out with his friends for the night but he promised to keep his phone on and close to him. Just in case since you were nervous and coming so close to the end of your term. You weren’t together but he still wanted to be active when it comes to your pregnancy.

He never came that night but he called you the next morning which you gave him a stern yelling to.

Anyways.

Before you could lift your hand again to knock, the door opened abruptly and you saw a foreign woman standing in what you presumed to be Jungkook’s dress shirt.

The woman didn’t even greet you—but she did your daughter.

“Aren’t you just the cutest little thing—ahh! Kookie, your sister or something is here!” She said turning to yell in the void before reaching out for your child to which she pressed back into you.

“She’s not too friendly to strangers—“ you said as you walked into Jungkook’s home, catching him rushing down the stairs and throwing his shirt on before catching eyes with you.

“Shit it’s my week huh?” He said planting his feet in front of yours with that small smirk that turned into a full-blown smile when his eyes set on his baby girl. “Hi, my pretty princess” he cooed.

“Kookie, your sister or something is here” you mocked softly handing your daughter off to her father “I’m tired of being your sister”

“You were tired of being my girlfriend too—thought you wanted something new” he smirked, nodding for you to follow him to the little princess’s room which you did.

“Ha ha, very funny Jeon.” You said setting down her belongings

“I’m just kidding, she knows who you are. I don’t know why she said that. Nevertheless, you’ll never see her again” Jungkook said truthfully.

That’s one thing you did appreciate. Although you guys had a hard time seeing eye to eye while you were together, he still wouldn’t let anyone disrespect you and you would do the same for him.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit much? Having her around our daughter and then poof she’s gone?” You crossed your arms.

“Would you rather she stayed?” He turned to you, holding Aera close to him as she watched her daddy lovingly.

His eyes searched yours, looking for a bit of hope that you missed him or you were jealous, just something.

“No, I just don’t want so many new people in her life that’s all.” You said, turning your attention to Aera, smiling brightly as you kissed her little hands that reached for you.

“Mommy has to go now, I’ll be back on Sunday. On time” you said shooting your eyes to Jungkook and then back at your daughter, giving her a little kiss on the cheek.

You turned to head to the door before Jungkook cleared his throat. You turned to him with your hand on your hip.

“What?”

“What about daddy?”

“What about daddy?” Emphasizing the question this time.

“Daddy wants kisses”

“Daddy has a girlfriend that’s downstairs waiting for him” you spat jokingly.

“But daddy wants mommy’s kisses.” He said, emphasizing the ’mommy’

You chuckled and kissed Jungkook’s cheek. He hummed happily.

“Thank you, baby, I’ll see you on Sunday. Why don’t you come by early? Seokjin is cooking and the guys miss you”

“I bet they do” you chuckled.

Jungkook watched you head to the door for a second time before he jogged down behind you making your daughter giggle along the way.

“Hey—yn!” You turned and looked at your stunning baby daddy run after you. “Yes?”

“Are you—are you like seeing… anyone?” He asked, making you laugh.

“If you're asking about the date with Hobi? You have nothing to worry about.” You smiled.

“Did he hurt you? I can say something—“

“No, he’s perfect. The guy of my dreams. It’s just a little weird for me to date one of your friends.”

Jungkook was relieved.

“Okay good—“

“Good?? So you can date whoever and I can’t?”

“No I’m not saying that—“

You chuckled “I have to go to work, have a good day. I love you. Aera” you smiled, kissing her little cheeks before leaving.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Good morning, Yn.” Yoongi said, poking his head into your office. You smiled and waved him in.

“Good morning, Min.” You watched as he entered your office with some breakfast “min you—“

“I know you didn’t eat anything yet and I also know—pretty positive, you weren’t going to until tonight” he said, setting the bag down, alongside two coffees. “Both of us need to work on that”

Yoongi was always so thoughtful of you as you were him—which also caused a drift in your relationship with Jungkook.

He was always around and he always looked after you. Jungkook didn’t mind it at first but then he felt Yoongi was too close to you. It only got worse while you were pregnant.

“Yn does he really have to be here while you’re giving birth to MY child?”

“He wants to be and it’ll make me feel better.”

“Having me there isn’t enough? Noted”

“No Baby—not its not like that—Jungkook!”

Yoongi was not too fond of Jungkook after that. He felt he was being too sensitive while you were also too sensitive. Jungkook felt you were slowly falling for Yoongi although you never showed any signs of the sort.

Yoongi just had a way of calming you before you did big things. Like for the time you got your nipple piercing- yeah—maybe you should have brought your boyfriend instead of your best friend, but you and Jungkook weren’t talking and Yoongi talked you into doing it after hearing your rant and rave about all the cute nipple rings.

So maybe you could see why Jungkook is jealous or even upset.

Another man saw his girl’s boobs. Pierced at that. Before he got to see them—yeah he had every right to be pissed.

You didn’t see anything wrong with it at the time since you and Jungkook weren’t on talking terms at the moment and he was talking to other girls but you apologized and told him you wouldn’t let Yoongi see you like that again as long as he dropped all the girls he was talking to which he did with no problem.

But when you and Yoongi because closer, Jungkook became pettier and only made it worse when he purposely called Yoongi while you were fucking so he could hear you scream his name.

And it was worse when Yoongi declared himself as daddy number two when it came to Aera. Jungkook was not having that even after you broke up.

Jungkook was a little—or a lot—well very much childish in your relationship.

Yoongi didn’t care at first but the more and more he did things the more and more he couldn’t stand him. It got to the point where you no longer went to him to get advice because you knew his opinion would be jaded.

Yoongi is an old friend that you grew up with. He was your comfort and being around him made you at ease. He was nostalgic and you were never getting rid of him…but you also weren’t getting rid of Jungkook. You tried your hardest to get them to get along but it just never worked.

So you could only imagine how happy he was when you told him, you and Jungkook broke up.

“How’s the princess? I haven’t seen her in so long” he said dramatically.

“You saw her yesterday. You even watched her.”

“That was 24 hours ago, yn. It’s a new day and we won’t see her for a whole week.” Yoongi said again, shaking his head. You giggled.

“She’ll be back on Sunday, like every other week”

“Too long”

The work day was pretty hectic since it was Monday and so much needed to be done the rest of the week was only the same. It’sFriday and you missed your pretty girl. Throughout the day, Jungkook sent you pictures of Aera doing different things. It made you miss your little one.

My 🌎 : aw , I miss her..

Koo 🫧: we can stop by tonight for a little and have dinner or something.

My 🌎: I’m okay with that. Should I cook?

Koo 🫧: duhhhh

You chuckled and stood to your feet to get cleaned up and also figure out what you wanted to cook.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook arrived shortly after and boy did your world stop when you saw Aera.

“My pretty girl!,” you started as you took her into your arms, kissing her little face before setting eyes on Jungkook—damn did he look good.

He wore worn Jeans that hugged his thigh and legs amazingly, they had a hole or two which drove you insane. He wore a white short sleeve shirt that displayed his tattoos amazingly as well. Jungkook’s hair was growing quickly, it made your head spin. The eyebrow piercing just did it for you.

“Why are you dressed like this?” You asked, almost choking on your words when he stepped closer and his Cologne filled your nostrils.

“Like what?” He asked obviously knowing what you were talking about, as he took his shoes off.

“Jungkook—“

“I look good , don’t I?” He smirked closing your door and walking in, slapping your ass “you look good too in those shorts, baby”

You already knew what type of night this was going to be.

Jungkook did not let up the whole night. You thanked God that your daughter was only shy of 7 months old and she wouldn’t even understand what her daddy was saying let alone what he was doing the next room over.

After you laid little Aera to bed, Jungkook had you sprawled out of the bed with a pillow over your mouth as he ate you out.

His tongue never missed and he never toyed around.

You tried your hardest to avoid this moment right here, you know what it does to your head.

You always end up falling in love with him again.

You felt a fiery sensation form at the bottom of your stomach and your breathing became quicker, your body quickly searching for an out.

Ripping the pillow from your lips, you tried your hardest not to scream but barely mumble “I-I’m gonna cum, Jungkook fuck”

“Cum then, on my tongue” he said, slapping your thigh as he shot his tongue back between your folds and slipping a finger with it, fucking you at intolerable pace.

Shortly after you chased your high and your breathing slowed, he licked you clean and hovered over you. Giving your lips a few sweet kisses.

“Why do you do this to me?“ you whisper as he kisses your neck and settles between your legs.

“Because, I love you and you love me,” he started “we have a baby to prove that” he mumbles.

His moments were gentle but subtle. His cock slowly fills you up and gives you that sense of release that you crave every time you’re with him.

Jungkook knew how to fuck. And he knew how to fuck you too. His hips were troubled themselves. The way they would rock and snap, the way your skin connected with his was over the top.

It made it no better that instead of going home or at the very least, sleeping on the couch, he slept in the bed with you wrapped in his arms and his face hidden in between your neck.

To make matters worse, he’d wake up before you too.

Your eyes fluttered up to the delightful smell of breakfast and the sweet sounds of your baby girl. Grabbing the nearest thing next to you, which happens to be Jungkook’s forsaken white shirt.

Throwing it on you slipped your feet into the slippers and headed towards the kitchen, not even bothered to check your appearance which you can tell amused Jungkook.

He sat the spoon down and walked over to you, patting your wild hair and pushing it behind your ears before giving you a sweet kiss on your lips which you returned.

“Good morning sleepy princess” he said against your lips.

You chuckled “good morning, are you making breakfast?” You asked, walking around the table and placing a kiss on Aera’s head. Jungkook humed and jogged sweetly to your cabinet to make you a plate.

“I did. I was wondering if we could spend the day together and maybe go to dinner tomorrow together?”

You looked over at Jungkook and crossed your arms, tilting your head. “We aren’t getting back together Jeon” to which he groaned as he set your plate down walking over to you and wrapping his strong arms around your waist, pressing a kiss on your lips again.

“It’s been so long and I’ve changed. Look how our pretty daughter look at us when we’re together.” He said laying his chin on your shoulder as you both looked at your pretty Daughter.

She looked at the both of you chewing in her little strawberry covered fingers, watching her parents be in love. You smiled softly.

This was the life you wanted for Aera. Both of her parents together and happy but knowing Jungkook, it’s not gonna last like this for long before his jealous streak comes back in full effect.

Especially since you and Yoongi has gotten closer and there could be something between you and Hoseok, you didn’t want to cause more drama like you possibly already did fucking your ex.

Yoongi will probably scold you but you could only imagine what Hoseok is going to think.

“It’s only been 8 months, you couldn’t have possibly changed that quick”

“And you possibly can’t be over me already.” He said almost offended, which made you scoff as you ate some bacon.

“Like you are? Let’s not forget everytime time I take Aera over you have some new little girlfriend”

“That’s not the same, yn”

“How isn’t it? Tell me, please” you said amused.

“I don’t care about them. They aren’t even my girlfriend and they don’t even get the pleasure of being around my daughter. Especially when I just really want you”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“Then maybe prove that. Other than just fucking me when you all of a sudden want to act like a family” you spat.

“I’m trying to but what do you do? You get into these FUCKING moods-“ Jungkook’s words was cut short as Aera’s cries grew louder, drawing your attention to her.

“Oh baby- we’re sorry.” You whispered softly gathering her into your arms. She popped her thumb in her mouth, calming herself down as she rested her head on your shoulder. Jungkook came closer and rubbed her back softly.

“Mommy and daddy didn’t mean to argue in front of you.” Jungkook whispered, kissing her small little hand that rested on your arm.

She calmed softly and fell asleep. You look at Jungkook with sharp eyes and to your surprise he looks at you with loving ones.

“If I prove myself to you. Would you give me another chance?”

“We’ll see”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So you fucked?” You sighed loudly and leaned back into the couch listening to Yoongi repeating it made you feel worse.

“I mean-kinda.. not really.. but yeah” you admitted.

Yoongi chuckled, you could tell, he was shaking his head. You know him just that good.

“Yn did he put his mouth, hands, and or dick in or on you?”

“HEY—watch it. What Aera was here?”

“I know she isn’t because you just told me you and her daddy fucked.”

You puffed your cheeks and sighed again.

“He did all the above…” you whispered.

“ I was weak… I couldn’t even stop myself.”

“If you just need dick, find it somewhere else. You don’t have to just have him”

“I’m not getting a random dick, Yoongi.”

“It doesn’t have to be random. You got options. What about that Hoseok guy or your best friend?”

“I’m not gonna fuck you Yoongi”

“I might surprise you.”

~~~~~~~~

Jungkook held Aera in his lap as he watched his hyungs sound him, in awe of his little girl. He couldn’t help but smile at her sweet coos at her uncles.

“You’re getting so big, Aera girl. You’re growing up on me,” Seokjin chuckled, squishing her cheeks.

Jungkook looked at Hoseok walk in the door, probably coming back from his dance class he teaches from time to time.

“Hyung!” Jungkook called to Hobi, handed Aera to seokjin and jogged over to him.

“Yes jungkookie?” He said, smiling brightly. Jungkook gave him a very brief smile before continuing on.

“So…you and my ex huh?” Jungkook asked, tilting his head to the side with a smirk.

Hoseok rolled his eyes and adjusted his bag over his shoulders. “Not this again. Nothing happened”

Hoseok was tired of having this conversation with Jungkook. He couldn’t understand why he cared anyway when he fucked who he wanted, why couldn’t she. He ignored Jungkook’s smirk and brushed past him and headed to the living room.

“I know nothing happened. But I just want to know, why her?”

“Why not her?”

“She’s my ex, you know your best friend”

“But didn’t you fuck her friend after you guys called it off. Besides, it was just a few dates.” Hoseok started, “I didn’t even kiss her goodbye”

Which was a lie. A big lie.

If you didn’t have to pick Aera from Yoongi that night, you and Hoseok were bound to fuck.

The kiss started off sweet. His hands rested on your hips and his lips kissed yours softly. Making a little space between you, your eyes flickered up to his as he looked down at you with a sweet smile.

Within seconds your back was against your wall and your lips danced against his.

Things were heating up until you realized just how hot things were getting and remembered Yoongi had something to do in the morning, you needed to get your daughter.

You both agreed not to tell Jungkook about the kiss, knowing he was already on edge about you going on dates—hence the millions of texts and calls you’ve received since the beginning of the date, that didn’t even stop during your little make out session.

Hoseok looked at Jungkook with the most straight forward look he could.

But it was like he knew he was lying. He didn’t believe him.

“I’m going to get my family back, Hyung…don’t get too used to being around my girl”

#bts fanfic #bts yoongi #bts imagine #bts smut #bts jhope #bts jungkook #bts smut drabble #smut and fluff #angst with a happy ending #heartbreak #love square #drama #baby daddy

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makmakgoose · 4 months

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Four Letter Word For Intercourse

As a grease monkey turned college freshman, Dean's constantly three seconds away from being stressed out of his mind. It hardly helps that he's finally figuring out his sexuality in his thirties.

What might help with that stress is a little phone number (and a big credit card bill). If he can't figure out how to be bisexual in person, he can at least give it a go over the phone, right?

(It's probably a bad idea, but he really can't help himself.)

LINK

#supernatural #destiel #194k #i usually dont like supernatural aus but this one???#ok a lot of smut i’m sorry #literally had to skip some scenes cuz its not my vibe #but i love a love square #older and college is nice too!!!#8/10

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iwasbored777 · 1 year

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Guess who just wrote prpr Adrienette smut cuz she had this idea ever since she wrote that chapter of Marinette finding out she's pregnant but couldn't be bothered to finish it until tonight?

#miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #Ml fanfiction #Miraculous smut #Wattpad #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #Adrienette #Prpr #Love square

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aalissy · 10 months

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Do you have any miraculous smut fics you reccommend? Thanks :))

Yes, I do! I did this once before and you can check out the fics I recommended here if you haven't seen those yet :)! But I've added a few more of my faves to this list.

Check them out under the read more!

On the Edge and Razor by Bronte: Ladrien, series, completed. One of my fave Ladrien pwps. Omg I love these lil oneshots sooo so much!!

Summer in the City and Sinners in the City by kali_asleep: Adrienette + Ladynoir, series, completed. I love love love identity shenanigans and this is that haha.

Show Me What You Got by lalunaoscura and QuantumChickpea: Adrienette, multi-chapter fic, completed. I absolutely adore best friends to lovers. It's probably my personal favorite trope :). They're sooo in love in this fic I just love it haha.

Free Pass by ghostlyhamburger: Love square, multi-chapter fic, completed. Ghostlyhamburger writes the best miraculous smut and this fic is no different. The secret dating and all of the "free passes" in this fic are so fun haha.

Stress Relief by ghostlyhamburger: Marichat + Adrienette, multi-chapter fic, completed. Just wonderful! I love fics where Adrien realizes how much he loves Marinette hehe.

Sleep Deprived Thirsty by thtzwhatuthink: Marichat + Adrienette, multi-chapter fic, completed. Once again adore Adrien being unable to contain his feelings for Marinette. Honestly, so fun to read hehe.

Hickeys by thtzwhatuthink: Marichat + Adrienette, multi-chapter fic, completed. I'm suchhhh a sucker for Chat stumbling on Marinette masturbating haha. Such a fun trope :)

Meet me in the Middle by Unlawful Bug (Inkkerfuffle): Adrienette, multi-chapter fic, completed. Just really really fun Adrienette PWP. Bc I swear these two have no self-control and just want to kiss all the time haha.

Bon Mot by Yilena: Adrienette, one-shot, college AU. Love when these two are locked in a closet together heheh. Of courseeee they won't be able to keep their hands to themselves ;).

Study Break by zeroxfortyfive: Ladrien, one-shot, PWP. Really, really fun fic wherein Adrien just needs a lil break from his studies hehe.

#ml fic rec #ml recs #smut fic #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #ml #mlb #love square #ladynoir #adrinette #adrienette #ladrien #marichat #asks

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samodivaa · 21 days

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║drool on dog tags║

Bucky x Reader : They sway in your face during sex... (smut) {request}

There’s nothing more dangerous than a man with charm—and Bucky looks like a deity—a small smile tips up one corner of your mouth as you look in his eyes which are powder-blue and still rimmed with the longest lashes you have ever seen on a man. His mouth comes down on yours without further warning. Not hard or violently or forcefully. But fully, with complete contact. He comes directly to you, seizing your face between his hands, and capturing your mouth beneath his. “I am going to shower, Bucky"

"Is that an initiation? We can shower later”

He cajoles, hoping he sounds convincing rather than needy. Tortuously slow, Bucky licks his lips, rolling his hips fluidly against yours. It’s a struggle to swallow back a groan when you bite his lower lip slightly. You are covered only by a towel, his mind running amuck over what the towel is hiding—sexual perversions mix with lust as his mind sees in scattered images of varying vulgarity. Bucky grips your waist and lifts you off the ground with ease, dropping you softly on the luxurious white linen bed, your body fully exposed to him. You lick your lips at the sight of his broad shoulders and an athletic physique that even a jacket cannot hide. Your eyes continue their upward travel to his strong square-shaped face, framed with short brown hair that falls to his shoulders and deep, blue eyes. He disrupts your thoughts by stripping his shirt off, shorts, boxers—letting only the dog tags trail over his chest.

He then craws on top of you and he cannot articulate a word, capable only of an animal sound, a strangulated wheeze that shocks him deeply, enraging him, this sudden loss of the faculty of speech that feels somehow bestial and forgotten. His body hovers above you as he leans down to kiss you. You're perfect when you're underneath him, it's where you belong, beautiful face and pretty eyes lock onto his—your warmth cushioning him, your obedient body lush, your eyes flashing—and all he wants is to ruin you. His lips are once again on your skin, devouring everything he can—licking, sucking, and kissing. He drags his lips up your throat, along your jaw, back toward your mouth before leaning back to let his hips slowly rut against you, length parting your folds and rubbing over your clit, dragging his pre-come up between your lips. You simultaneously release a harsh moan as he buries himself deep with an upward thrust. You are grateful that he doesn't start slow, but slams into you with no remorse, the need for fucking poisoning his mind. Bucky brings both of your wrists above your head and grips them in his metal arm, restraining them from moving—It's a sinful sight each time he buries the length of his cock all the way inside you, shaft slick and wet and glistening when he pulls it out. He loves watching it happen. You make the prettiest noises when he shoves in deep only to pull out and slam himself back inside, his eyes roll backwards as the dog tags make melodious ringing sounds right above your face with every thrust.

“Can you feel my cock slipping in and out…feels good, doesn’t it?”

When you don’t answer in time, he stops and lifts his gaze towards yours. You feel a jolt of some foreign but not unwelcome sensation piercing your body. You look so—slutty. There is something raw and pleading in his eyes that surpasses sexual desire, these fleeting moments of carnal craving—his dog tags continue to whirl in your hot mouth, drool dribbles from your corners on your lips—but your greedy tongue is always ravenous…for anything. It is the dirty, sinful element that gives pleasure to the act of lust, then the dirtier it is, the more pleasurable it is bound to be. He pulls out, only the tip remains inside.

“Don’t-” you whimper desperately. Without warning, he pushes his whole length. He focuses his attention on your lips. His trusts are slow and his stare makes your walls clench around him.

“Don’t stop?” He chuckles softly, voice going deeper as he picks up the pace and fucks you into the mattress, his thrusts only getting rougher. “Is that what you want? Need me to fuck you till you come, baby?” he mumbles, not looking away from your lips, his gaze devouring you.

He has to take a deep breath. He tries to breathe, trying to avoid cumming, but your filthy mouth rips his soul and hypnotizes his brain—and your eyes, eyes that bare into his heart, making his dick twitch. The wet squelching, your shy moans, the way your walls tighten around cock is enough to make him cum. His dick keeps on slamming into you, the sight of his well-muscled body, covered in a thin layer of sweat, invites you to utter depravity, it is what drives you over the edge. You whimper and screw your eyes tight as another wave of pleasure spreads throughout your body in orgasmic tingles as he pulls his own climax with you. He finally presses his face against your neck as his hips lose any and all sense of tempo and when he finally stills, he holds himself deep inside as he leans back—with every breath, your bust heaves, sweat droplets running between them and attracting his gaze. But what pollutes his mind even more—is when he pulls the dog tags away from your mouth, sticky strands of spit spilling between your lips and the small metal plates as you share collective gasps of breath. Sometimes, to regain sanity, one has to acknowledge and embrace the madness.

#lemme lick them dog tags fr #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky imagine #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #request #winter soldier

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reidmotif · 9 months

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Popsicle Love

Summary: Reader and Spencer are at a ridiculously hot precinct station, getting on each other's nerves arguing. Reader realizes she can get back at him, using a certain sweet treat.

Prompt: Spencer can't deal with how much Reader loves popsicles/ice cream cones

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: Reader POV, rough sex, hair-pulling, dom!Spencer, coworker relationship, oral sex (m receiving), fingering (f receiving) , dirty talk, heavy making-out, unprotected penetrative sex, bathroom sex, hate-fucking, pure smut

Word Count: 3.2k

“It is too fucking hot for this” was my first thought as he began talking to me. Fuck Spencer Reid, because he was the who decided that today, in the sweltering Georgia heat, was the day he would annoy the ever-loving shit out of me.

“You’re going about this all wrong!” Spencer said, rolling his eyes. His sleeves were pulled up, and there was anger in his eyes. I crossed my legs, feeling my skirt ride up but I honestly couldn’t care less. It was scorching, and I was determined to not lose this argument to Reid. I let out a breath of air, meeting him with my own annoyed, exasperated expression.

“Reid, you’re being absolutely childish right now.” I retorted. “Sort through the paperwork first, then analyze it! Not everyone wants to do things the way you insist on doing them!” I say, furrowing my brows.

“Not everyone can.” He says, cockily, a smirk gracing his lips. That motherfucker.

I was about to get up and honestly hit him square in the jaw, half from my delusion in the heat, and half from how fucking smug he sounded. I wanted to knock that smirk off his face, and maybe ruin that pretty smile of his in the process, just as an added bonus.

Thankfully, before I could do anything rash that would definitely result in me losing my job, one of the officers of the station quickly came to interrupt us.

“Hey, one of the officers brought in popsicles. If any of y’all would like any, they’re in the breakroom.” She said, turning away. Thank God for Southern hospitality, I suppose.

I sighed, getting up from my spot. Spencer and I clearly weren’t getting anywhere when it came to our disagreements, and that’s how it was, and how it would remain to be. The man was a pain-in-the-fucking ass, and it was an honest shame, considering the fact he was actually pretty hot, especially when his mouth wasn’t moving.

Spencer walked ahead of me, the idea of something to cool him down enticing him just as much as it did me. We reached the breakroom and he opened the freezer, taking out the box of popsicles, and looking into it. He pulled out two, presumably one for me, and one for him.

“Blue or red?” He says, holding out the brightly colored packages, offering me a choice of one.

“Red.” I say, reaching over with no hesitation and grabbing the red-colored packaging in his hand. “Duh.” I added, starting to unwrap the treat. “It’s the best flavor.”

He scoffed a little, opening up his own, blue package, and I rolled my eyes at the sound.

“What, are you going to argue with me about my choices in popsicle flavor too now?” I say, with a disbelieving tone.

“No, it’s nothing,” He says, shrugging, with that same, shit-eating, self-satisfied grin.

God, I hated him.

I gave a deep exhale through my nose, forcing myself to calm down. I decided it’d be for the best if I walked out, left him here alone to avoid another fight. He called out before I could even walk two steps.

“You have to eat here.” He said, taking licks at his popsicle. “The officers- they’re old fashioned. I don’t know.” He adds, “If you wanna be yelled at though, be my guest.”

I grumbled internally at that, but I knew he was right. I didn’t want to be yelled at.

I took my place, leaning against a table that had been placed in the breakroom and taking my own popsicle out of the packaging, beginning to eat it. I sighed happily as I felt the taste settle on my tongue, the coolness blooming throughout my mouth. I began by licking the sides before taking it in my mouth. I suckled for a minute, and I could feel it already melting down my fingers a bit, due to the heat in the station. I released the popsicle in my mouth with a pop, before going to lick the sticky residue off my fingers. It was a little childish, sure, but it was hot and it wasn’t like anyone was watching me. I continued this cycle, softly sucking at the popsicle and wrapping my tongue around it until I heard what sounded like ... a whimper from across the room? I let my eyes drift up, noticing a seemingly flustered Spencer in the corner of my eye. He leaned away from me, crossing his legs. I knitted my brows, before putting the pieces together, realizing what had happened.

He was a guy, after all. And I suppose the way I was eating my popsicle could come off as suggestive, but come on! How else was I meant to eat it? And armed with the knowledge that my innocent action was enough to provoke him, I decided a little more intent in my movement couldn’t hurt.

I began to take the popsicle a little more vigorously, bobbing my head a bit. My lips wrapped around the treat, and I could feel Spencer’s eyes shamelessly on me and internally grinned. Good. He had annoyed me all day, and the idea of him dealing with a hard-on with no way to relieve himself was definitely karmic justice in my eyes. I closed my eyes, savoring the taste, but also in the way I could feel Spencer shifting around, trying to hide what seemed like a fast-growing erection. When I hollowed out my cheeks, and swirled my tongue around the sweetness in my mouth, I could hear a sound from the back of his throat escaping his lips. I let the popsicle out of my mouth, and in that moment, a melted chunk seemed to fall off, landing itself on my chest. I hissed, feeling the coldness of the tacky liquid running down my bare skin.

“Shit.” I said, trying to flick off the liquid off my hands and realizing I’d need to clean myself up. I dropped the remainder of the popsicle in the trash, not bothering to look back, before I walked over to the bathroom. I let out a breath of air as I opened the door to the precinct bathroom, looking at my chest and sighing, grabbing a handful of paper towels to run under the sink to wash myself with.

Before I could do that though, I heard the door swing open, and saw through the mirror it was none other than Spencer Reid. I crossed my arms, putting my back to the counter of the sink as I turned around to look him up and down.

“What are you doing here?” I remarked, with a displeased tone.

He looked absolutely furious, and there was a slight part of me that was excited, knowing I could rile him up like this. He was breathing heavily, and moving closer to me, trapping me in between the counter and his body, and what felt like a very noticeable hardness pressing against my thigh.

“The better question is, what the fuck are you doing?” He asked, his tone low and menacing.

I rolled my eyes, before feigning a look of innocence, making my eyes wide. “What do you mean, Spencer?”

“You know exactly what I mean.” He responds, gripping a piece of hair at the back of my skull and pulling slightly, forcing me to bare my neck to him. “Where do you get off doing something like that to me, huh?” He murmurs, leaning closer and letting his lips brush over the shell of my ear.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I retorted hastily, but I could hear the shakiness in my voice. The way he was speaking, the pull he had on my hair- it thrilled me, and contributed to a growing heat between my legs.

He pushed himself further and further against me, and I could feel his erection against my thigh even more so than before, and felt my stomach flutter at the feeling. My jaw dropped a bit, letting out a soft sigh, sensitive to the sensation.

“Oh is that right?” Spencer replies, nodding as he spoke a little cruelly. “You like acting like this? Like a goddamn slut?” He grunts out. He twists and pulls my hair a little more, eliciting a soft moan from my lips.

“You like it when I pull on your pretty hair like that?” He said, snarking the words at me. “Like how wet I make you?” He whispered, venom in his voice.

Without warning, he placed his fingers at the growing wet patch at my underwear, roughly pushing it aside before starting to rub harsh, tight circles around my clit. I nearly lost my mind at the sensation, nearly doubling over with pleasure.

I whimpered softly, and I could feel his smirk as he started to kiss up and down my neck. “So wet for me, mm?” He says, starting to move his fingers faster over my swollen clit. “I’ve barely touched you. You’re fucking needy for me, yeah?”

I groaned, not processing enough of what he was saying to warrant a response. My brain was foggy from how good he was making me feel. I tried to not think about the fact that this was Spencer, the Spencer who’d annoyed me from the moment I’d joined the BAU. The Spencer I despised, the one I was supposed to hate- but here was, making me orgasm in a precinct bathroom with his fingers alone.

He rubbed a bit faster, before thrusting two fingers into my needy cunt. I moaned again, louder, and he responded by burying his fingers even deeper into my core, pumping harshly. I could feel the room spinning, gripping onto the counter behind me to stabilize me as my orgasm began to approach me rapidly. He watched me intently, his gaze hot and intense before smirking. “Come for me. Come all over my fingers, (Y/N).” He whispered.

I did, nearly on command, convulsing against him as I felt myself clench around his long, slender digits, my moans reverberating around the small space.

He withdrew his fingers suddenly, leaving me painfully empty before he began to grab my face roughly, forcing me to look at him.

“Say that you want this, bitch.” He whispers harshly, pulling my hair and eliciting yet another moan from me as he pushed me up against the counter.

“Spencer..” I murmured, feeling my knees go a bit weak at how roughly he was manhandling me. He spun our positions around, and I felt him using the grip on my hair to push me down to my knees.

“Say it!” He said, a little more firmly now. “I need to hear you say it.”

I felt the desperation in his tone, weakly looking up at him from this angle before I nodded quickly.

“I want you. I want this.” I wailed, arousal coursing through my veins. I no longer cared about the humiliation of letting him use me like this. I wanted to chase this feeling forever, wanted to be at his mercy for as long as he wanted, as long as he could continue to make me feel this good.

I felt him groan above me, before he pulled me closer to his bulge, raising an eyebrow. He looked absolutely wild from here, sweat dripping down from his brow, and sleeves pushed up. He breathed heavily, his chest heaving up and down.

“Go on then. This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?” He mocked, but I could tell his voice was strained with the exact same need I was feeling in the moment.

I gave no protest, using my deft fingers to quickly undo his slacks, pulling them down along with his boxers, watching his heavy cock bob in the air for a moment, before looking up at him, my jaw slightly agape.

Was this really happening?

He nodded, as if to give me an okay, and I didn’t need any more encouragement than that. I swirled my tongue around his tip, watching in fascination as I heard a groan from him, his head falling back as he moaned. “Fuck, (Y/N). Just like that.”

I grew bolder with his praise. I began to take more of him in my mouth, using my hands where my tongue wouldn’t reach. I gripped and worked his base, while suckling on what my mouth could reach. As I got used to the intrusion in my mouth, I moved down slowly, eventually taking the whole of him. He moaned loudly at this, and gripped my hair tighter, starting to move me up and down his cock. I relaxed the muscles in my mouth, letting him use me as he pleased. I watched from the lower angle the best I could, the sight of him coming undone at my mouth absolutely gorgeous. I could feel the tears pooling in the corner of my eyes, the saliva dripping down from my mouth and covering my chest. I wanted to watch him fall apart, to be at my mercy just as much as I was at his.

He moaned at the feeling, and I could feel myself get wetter at the sound. “Oh fuck. You feel so fucking good.” He groaned out, before grabbing my hair yet again, and holding my head in place. He started to fuck my throat roughly, and the tears began to flow a little more rapidly, feeling the pooling of saliva down my chin as I felt him hit the back of my throat.

“You like this, huh?” He teased from above, between pants and sighs. “Wanted me all riled up, so we could do this, right?”

I nodded desperately, incoherent begs and whines coming from my mouth before he pulled me off with a tug. I felt delightfully dirty, as he forced me up again and kissed me roughly. I barely registered him turning us around in my lustful stupor, bending me mercilessly against the sink and lifting up my skirt, pulling my underwear down in a clean swoop. I could feel him squeezing the fat of my hips and moaned at the way he controlled me so easily, to which he let out a smug chuckle.

He gripped my hair again, pulling my head up and forcing me to look at myself. We looked sinful, his cock pressing against my wet folds, teasing me.

“See that? You look like a fucking whore.” He snarled, breathing heavily.

I wasn’t going to let him win so easily. Even though I wanted the same things as him, I knew the more I teased him, the better I’d get from him. I raised an eyebrow and breathlessly murmured, “Are you going to stand there and look at me, or are you going to fuck me, Reid?”

He bared his teeth at me, thrusting into me roughly with no warning. “Oh, you wanna be fucked? Then take it.” He groaned, starting to buck his hips against me like a man possessed.

I moaned at the sudden feeling, letting my jaw drop fully to let out all my noises. I could feel the slaps of his skin against mine, and the smell of sex filling up the small space. His fingers gripped so tightly into my stomach I swear I could feel the bruises already blooming over my stomach. I let him fill me up, his thick cock passing through me roughly, over and over again.

“So fucking warm and wet. You feel..” He paused, moaning and jutting against me faster. “So fucking good.”

I could see the sweat dripping down his brow, and the way it collected down his neck. In this moment though, the only heat I could focus on was no longer the one around us, but the one that came from every brutal pass of his cock, creating a delicious burn I reveled in with every moment he stayed inside me. I moaned loudly, feeling myself get hotter and hotter with every second.

I watched through the mirror as he fucked me into the counter with no restraint, his head thrown back, eyes shut as he continued to use me, plowing into me from behind. I could feel my knees getting weaker, feeling his cock twitch inside of me as I arched my back to take more of him. He groaned at the sensation of him bottoming out, the rhythm of his hips becoming irregular as he continued to rut into me. I rolled my hips against him, hoping to spur on our impending releases. He thrust into me once or twice , until I felt him come with a loud moan, a familiar warmth pooling into my deepest point, but even then his hips didn't still. He fucked his own arousal into me, and I could feel my orgasm rapidly approaching, his lazy thrusts doing me in, and soon enough I was spasming over his cock, moaning loudly.

He pulled out of me, and my eyes fluttered shut at the sudden emptiness. I could feel his cum dripping down my leg, and his eyes watching in fascination as the mixture of both of our releases leaked out of me. He pulled up my underwear, immediately soaking up the liquids, and I groaned at the feeling. He pulled me up, leaning me against the sink.

I watched as he panted against the sink, and I swear, I would’ve fallen over without his steady grip on my hips. He and I were both flushed, my hair absolutely ruined from how hard he’d been pulling it, my tear-stained face still contorted in an expression of pleasure as we both recovered from the highs of our orgasms.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks, in between his breaths, looking genuinely concerned. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

I laughed a little bit at that, shaking my head. “You were the perfect amount of rough. Don’t worry.” I say, waving him off a little, assuring him that I got just as much out of this as he did.

As he tucked himself back into his pants, he grinned at me for seemingly no reason. I met his eyes with a confused expression, raising an eyebrow, pressing my lips together. “What are you grinning about?” I ask, trying to fix my hair as I look at him.

He walked over to me, turning me to face the mirror. I felt his chest against my back, and one of his large hands came to wrap themselves around me, before he ghosted a finger over my chest and whispered against my ear. “You still have some of that goddamn popsicle on you.” He says, trying not to laugh.

I rolled my eyes, chuckling a bit as I remembered the entire reason he’d been provoked to do this, and went to go finally wipe off the sticky residue once and for all. “Oh yeah. Popsicle.” I said, teasingly.

“Never do that again.” He says, starting to move away from me as he worked on making himself presentable enough to leave the bathroom with me.

I paused, turning around to look at him, still appearing completely fucked out and dazed as I smirked a bit. “If it gets you to fuck me like that? No promises.”

wow! a short fic from me?! crazy!! i wanted to try my hand at writing something smutty, but short. this was specifically written for @imagining-in-the-margins summer sunshine challenge, so go check that out :3 thank you for any likes, reblogs or comments. <3 i'm eternally thankful

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #smut #writing prompt #writing challenge #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #mentioningmargins

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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months

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baby fever

in which reader and spencer discuss having a baby while at work

fluff warnings/tags: fem/AFAB!reader, bau!reader, BOYFRIEND!SPENCER or husband if u so desire, discussions of pregnancy/having a baby (obviously), reader wants a baby, so does spencer a/n: god i need him so badly. should i write follow up smut?? mwahaha evil emoji......

The coffee finished brewing minutes ago, but you’re still standing by the pot, watching Anderson’s daughter toddling around the bullpen on chubby legs. She’s not very adept at walking, but her spirit is indomitable—every time she tips a little too far forward, she catches herself and gets right back up. It’s not like she’s doing anything particularly impressive or even interesting, but you can’t take your eyes off her. Every movement makes your heart twinge, every giggle or curious quirk of her head is so adorable it physically hurts in your chest.

From your peripheral vision you see Spencer approaching, bearing his own empty mug, but not even he can draw your attention away from the adorable little pixie and her tutu and her pigtails.

“That is the cutest kid I have ever seen in my life,” you whisper to Spencer, hoping the quiet tone of your voice will help hide how much you feel like cooing and squealing.

He smiles to himself as he pours his coffee.

“That’s Rosie. Have you said hi yet?”

“I’m afraid if I talk to her I’ll try to keep her.”

“She is pretty adorable.”

You turn to him as he leans next to you on the counter, sipping his coffee casually.

“Adorable? Spencer. Puppies are adorable. You’re not understanding the magnitude of what I mean right now. I can’t explain to you how much adorable doesn’t cut it. I’m not kidding about the child abduction thing.”

HIs eyes slide around the room as he chuckles into his mug.

“Let’s maybe not joke about kidnapping a child in FBI headquarters.”

“I’m not joking,” you hiss. “I feel like I’m going insane. I just—”

At the last second you stop yourself, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

“You just what?” Spencer asks, adjusting the hem of your shirt with his free hand. You glance down, watching the care he takes in the tiniest detail that you wouldn’t have given a second thought to.

“Is something wrong with my shirt?”

His eyes flick up to yours, hazel tinted with mild surprise.

“No. It just was sliding up your waist a little bit.” As he says it, his knuckles brush the bare skin of your torso. You suppress a shiver, studying his profile once he pulls his hand away and goes for another sip.

“Can we have one?”

Your inopportune timing results in coffee dribbling down Spencer’s chin as he quickly attempts to wipe it away, wide eyes torn between you and trying to assess the mess he’s made.

“You--you mean like a baby?”

“Yeah, like a baby,” you say, grabbing his shoulders and squaring them to you before dabbing the coffee from his face and jacket. He watches on as you clean him up, completely still except for his wandering eyes.

“I thought we were waiting on that.”

“Waiting for what? A better time? There’s never going to be a good time with this job. And it’s not like we’d have to quit. Look at JJ. She has two and still does it.”

“First of all,” Spencer begins, quickly recovering from your surprise proposition, “I don’t love the idea of either of us being in the field with you pregnant. And secondly, JJ also has Will and her mother to take care of the boys. We don’t have that. We’re both here all the time.”

“I don’t care,” you groan, trashing the paper towels once you’ve done the best you can with his clothing. “We’d figure it out somehow!”

“Mhm. It sounds like you’ve really devoted some careful consideration to this.”

You drop your head to your shoulder, giving him your best puppy dog eyes and pulling lightly on his shirtsleeve.

“Oh, come on. You haven’t thought about it at all? My perfect brain and your pretty face fusing to create a future Nobel-prize winner? Imagine how cute she would be, Spencer, we could put her hair in little braids and pigtails and we could dress her up and she could be in soccer and ballet and—”

“She?” he smiles, studying your face intently. You roll your eyes.

“Yes, she. Obviously we would have a girl. You—”

The idea of Spencer as the father of your daughter hits you like a tidal wave, stopping you dead in your tracks. The images materialize in your mind’s eye so clearly, it’s like they’re already memories, so real and tangible you have no doubt it must come to fruition someday. But if before, your ranting was mostly a silly fantasy—now it’s become a bit more intense.

He seems to sense your shift in mood. The big smile thaws slightly as he subtly grabs your hand on the counter.

“What? What’s wrong?”

There he goes again. Being kind. Being perfect.

Tears sting your eyes, but you don’t let them fall.

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong. I just... didn’t realize how badly I actually wanted that until I said it out loud.”

The concern in his eyes softens to pure affection as he runs his thumb over the back of your hand.

“I want it too. And whenever you decide you’re ready I’ll drop everything for you.”

His words are like compounding pressure to the deep heat within you—forming something so solid and perfect you don’t have to wonder if it’s real. A ten on the Mohs scale, a concept that gets closer to actualizing by the minute.

Your voice is quiet, revelatory as you admire the amber facets in his eyes.

“You’re ready?”

“I’ve been ready for quite some time,” he admits. And at once you feel the certainty of him paint your past and your future with one broad brushstroke. One day you will look back on your life and remember the time before Spencer, and that will be it. There is before Spencer, and with Spencer, but never an after Spencer. He wants to create something utterly permanent with you. “Come here.”

He sets his mug down, carefully pulling you forward so you’re toe to toe with your back to the rest of the BAU; so that only he can see you. Despite how good the two of you are at avoiding PDA, occasionally an exception is made. He tenderly wipes away the few tears that have sprung from your waterline and accepts your arms around his waist, mirroring your embrace and completely enveloping you.

“I love you,” he murmurs against the top of your hair, quiet enough that nobody in the office has a chance of hearing it. You sniffle.

“I love you too. Also you smell really good.”

He chuckles, hand roaming up and down your back for a moment.

“And that is why we are holding off on this at least for a while.”

“What do you mean?” you whisper indignantly as he gently peels you off him. His hands remain a steadying force on your waist as he smiles down at you beatifically.

“I mean let’s give it two weeks and see if you still want a baby when you’re not ovulating.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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edb954 · 1 month

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My Oc’s!

(Part of my Coriolanus Snow Fanfic!)

Main Girl:

Emme Reinswood~

Main Boy (one of them):

Ashe Warren~

2 Main(ish) Boy:

Marcus Plinth~

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tawneybel · 2 years

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Imagine being Noah’s girlfriend after Riley and Zoe, being worried you’re next.

Turns out Kieran was playing the long game for a threesome.

Note: I wish.

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gyuswhore · 5 months

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Fifteen to Forever

"I can’t not be happy when I know I have you."

PAIRING: hockeyplayer!choi seungcheol x f!reader

SYNOPSIS: Fifteen was the age you had met Choi Seungcheol at a school hockey game. Forever was the age you would find yourself spending with him.

CONTAINS: fluff, angst, smut (MINORS DNI), growing up, tears (a lot), distance, this is so emotional you will be in your feels, kissing, p in v sex (unprotected), clit stimulation, handjobs, happy endings bc we love them, i think that's it

WORD COUNT: 6k

masterlist

[AN]: thank you so much @ressonancee for birthing the idea of hockey player cheol in the first place, reading over some of the bits and helping me w some of the plot!!! ty for letting me ramble in your dms lol. hockeyplayer!cheol WILL reappear in other fics bc I'm obsessed with the idea, for now, I hope you enjoy this angsty fluffy creation <33

It wasn’t until the last echo of the slammed car door had faded that you realized, yes, mom, I do actually want you to go in with me.

But alas, as the last tresses of exhaust from her car fade into nothingness, you accept that you’d have to do this alone. Gripping the straps of your brand new backpack helps you ground yourself as the increasingly erratic breathing takes over you. It sinks in now that you’re alone.

There’s a honk, and you realize you’re still frozen in the drop-off zone, the mom in the Subaru not appreciating the 7 AM delay to drop off her own high schooler. You wonder if her kid would let her drop them off inside.

Scurrying into the entrance of the open gates, you find the courtyard full. Huddles of teens laughing and yelling despite the early morning hour, not a spare square foot on the grass. You try to find someone who looks like an adult but fail, hoping you’ll be luckier once you’re inside the building.

You do find yourself lucky as you find a line of teachers at the entrance, ready to greet the new batch of freshmen on their first day of high school. There are a few other kids who look as tense as you, but you feel better with the way the administrator pats your shoulder as she hands you your schedule, assigning you to a lanky sophomore to show you around the building that’d become your second home for the next four years.

Jeonghan tells you his name as he leads you into your homeroom, where you deposit your bag before going back out. He’s peculiar, you decide. He tells you to never walk without looking at the floor on Monday mornings to save your shoes from the occasional start-of-the-week breakfast hurl. He tells you in the cafeteria that the lasagna was horrible, but not the sloppy joes; the sloppy joes were good. He tells you in the gym that the coach would let you off if you rubbed a little eyeliner under your eyes, “he’s an empath.”

By the time he’s listing off clubs and teams, you feel a little less nervous, pushing you back into your fuller homeroom with a sign-up sheet and a goodbye. You don’t get to say thank you.

Kwon Soonyoung slips into the empty seat next to you, introducing himself a little louder than you’d anticipated, but you suppose you needed the enthusiasm. He innocently slips you his home number and hopes out loud that you’d be the best of friends.

You get in the car that afternoon, responding with a wider-than-expected smile at your mother inquiring about your day.

“It was great! I think I’ll like it here.”

You found it strange that the rink was so packed for a high school hockey game, but that was before you saw the ten-foot banner and face paint. Soonyoung sits on your right as Jiwoo places herself on your left, both donned in blue and yellow, sandwiching your uncoordinated outfit. For whatever reason, you’d thought movies exaggerated the hype around high school sports, yet the support for the boys entering the rink roars into your ears to prove you wrong.

They win, and with the way the rest of the team pats him on the back after sending in the last puck, you assume it’s all thanks to the boy with the Choi on the back of his jersey.

He removes his helmet, hair flopping into his eyes as you realize you know him. He was always in the cafeteria with Jeonghan, the boy who gave you a tour on your first day, along with many other boys from his year. It was hard not to notice them with the ruckus they were always causing, yet you found them easy to drown out with the rest of the noise.

“What’s his first name? The guy with the 08 on his back?” you ask Soonyoung.

“Oh, that’s Seungcheol. Dude’s a fucking progidy or something.”

“Prodigy,” Jiwoo corrects.

“Yeah, that. Jihoon said the only reason they got to finals last year was ‘cause of this guy.”

You watch as he drinks from his bottle from the benches, smiling at his coach and teammates as they debriefed. At least you were guessing that was happening; the only thing you were thinking about was how you could hear his laugh from where you sat. And how it was making you smile, too.

You stare at your worn shoes that glow in multicolors as the beats in the gym warp and stagger through the speaker. You’re on your third punch, finding yourself awkward without something to occupy at least one hand.

You had danced a little with Jiwoo, watched with bright eyes as Soonyoung dance off-ed yet another senior to his victory, giggled as you let another freshman, Jun, take Jiwoo away for the next dance. You now lace the edges of the party, taking a breather as you down the remnants of your punch, already trailing the memorized path to the snack table. Maybe you’ll try some of the lemonade this time.

There’s already somebody occupying the lemonade cooler when you get there, back to you as you patiently wait for him to finish up. He moves away, leaning against the table. He takes a sip from his cup, and you move forward to fill your own.

It’s Seungcheol. You recall his name as you recognize his face. He somehow looks as haphazard as you last saw him from yesterday’s hockey game.

If he had come in with a tie, it’s long gone as he has his collar popped and shirt unbuttoned the first few steps. It doesn’t end there as you note the hair that dresses his eyes, soaked in what you cannot imagine is water with the way you saw someone with a similar build typhoon across the floor with nearly as much vigor as Soonyoung has had tonight.

He’s downing the cup in haste, and you take a sip of the slightly tart drink as you debate if you should say something.

“You did really well yesterday. Congrats,” you decide to say.

He emerges from his cup to acknowledge you sipping on your own lemonade, “Oh, thanks. Were you there?”

“Oh, yeah, I was. First hockey game, went with my friends,” you let out a little chuckle, not understanding why you suddenly felt so awkward.

“Cool,” he answers plainly, mouth glistening and posture stagnant. “You’re friends with Soonyoung, right? Seen him hang around Jihoon a lot.”

“Yeah, he’s — he’s friends with everybody,” you laugh a little, and you hear him laugh with you.

“How do you handle him? He’s giving a run for everybody’s money out there,” he gestures to the dance floor with a smile.

“He mellows out after a while; he’s just excited,” you say, understanding his bewilderment.

“How’re you finding high school so far?” he asks when he runs out of things to say, yet forgets that he can easily excuse himself. But he doesn’t.

“Pretty alright. I’m having fun so far.” You don’t need to ask him the same, knowing well that the sophomore was having the time of his life.

“Good to hear, hope it stays that way for you.”

It’s another painful five seconds before you see Jiwoo waving at you from afar, pointing at something Soonyoung is doing.

“Uh, I’ll see you around, my friend’s waving me over–”

“Oh, sure, uh, I’ll see you around.”

You give him one more tight-lipped smile as you wave from waist length before retreating.

“Wait!”

You turn around at his voice.

“I never got your name.”

Seungcheol took you on your first not-date in the spring.

Not-date because neither of you had labeled it as such, but you were pushed to reconsider when both Jiwoo and Soonyoung insisted.

He had brought his car that you slipped into after school to drive to the movies, where he bought you popcorn and paid for both of your tickets. He held your hand as you walked out of the theatre, wide-eyed and all smiles as you discussed the film you had just sat through for two hours.

His palm fit in yours like it belonged there, and maybe it was your fifteen-year-old brain talking. Still, you never expected to be this comfortable with him — especially after the possible insinuation your friends had instilled.

He drove you home that night as you searched for a million excuses to stay a little longer in his car as he parked in front of your door. But alas, you open the car door at the end of the night and are surprised to find him doing the same as he walks around to where you get out.

“I had a lot of fun today,” you say in your rehearsed line.

“Me too,” he smiles. “The weather’s getting nicer, we should see the cherry blossoms next weekend. If you wanted to. We can take the car again.”

He didn’t kiss you, at least not on the lips as he hugged you at your front door and pressed his lips to your cheek.

You were quick to squeak out your goodbyes after that happened, slamming your door shut as you vaguely heard him drive off.

With a hand to your racing heart, you count to ten. Perhaps you’d reconsider that not-date after all. Besides, you had cherry blossoms to look forward to.

Choi Seungcheol kissed you, really kissed you, when he brought the team to the cup they missed out on last year, throwing himself at you as soon as you appeared before him. He was sweaty, half-dressed in his gear with his skates still on as he embraced you tighter than anyone ever had before.

He put his lips on yours the second he saw your face as you pulled away, unable to help himself despite the groans and retches of his teammates, despite the fact that an entire bleacher’s worth of people saw you both.

Not that either of you cared; you were just happy he didn’t have his mouth guard on (and that he kissed you before you couldn’t help it yourself).

It was in your junior year and Seungcheol’s senior year that you began to hear the absurdities about the strength of your relationship, that you wouldn’t make it, that high school sweethearts never do.

With shaking hands, you grip your boyfriend’s arm as he has a conflicted look in his eye.

“No,” you say. You wonder where all of this strength was coming from when you all wanted was to cry. “You’re gonna go. You will go. I won’t let you throw all of this away because of something that’s never gonna waver.”

He’s silent as he refuses to meet your gaze. The voices were getting to him, his older college friends laughing when he suggested that his relationship would last both college and the distance it would bring. He realizes he’s not so sure anymore.

He sits cross-legged in front of you on your bedroom floor, mentally prepared to walk out for the last time.

“You’re supposed to be happiest about this; I don’t understand why you insist I leave. And so far away?” he looks slightly bewildered.

“Because you’ll regret it if you don’t. This isn’t about me, Cheol, it’s about everything you’ve worked for all these years—”

“Us, what about us? I’ve worked on us, too.”

“Why have you gone years without listening to a word what other people say to only listening to them now?”

“Was it just me, then? Because it feels like I’m the only one worried about our future together—”

“Choi Seungcheol, stop right there.” Your voice is brittle, and you don’t know how long you can keep the tears at bay.

“I…I don’t know what to think,” his shoulders slump even lower.

His hockey scholarship would take him so, so far away. He thought you were strong enough for this, but with every anecdote, every comment, every dejected “have it your way” to his resilience, he wonders if the both of you would be forced to fight a losing battle if he left.

There were sports universities here at home, but there was no you with his scholarship.

“I’ll tell you what to think. Will you listen to me?”

Slowly, but surely, he nods.

“You can get the scholarship you’ve always wanted, and we can stay as we are, although a little farther away.”

He looks like he wants to say something but doesn’t.

“I believe in us. And if you don’t right now, I’m ready to believe for the both of us. We’ll get through this.”

In the end, Seungcheol believed you over everything the world told him, praying he wouldn’t let you or himself down as he laid with you on the last night he’d call his bedroom home.

Graduation was a happy endeavor, momentarily forgetting what lay ahead as he enjoyed his last hours with all his friends in one place. The heavy feeling returned as the night progressed, agreeing to spend the night with him, tucked under his covers as you listened to his heartbeat. You wonder how long it will be until you're able to do this again.

As you lay in his stripped bedroom, there’s little either of you say, an unspoken agreement to not sleep, not tonight. He has an early morning, but he doesn’t really seem to care as he continues to fiddle with your hair, kissing you at intervals like he's trying to bring back the feeling when it begins to fade.

There’s little you can talk about when you’re trying to memorize each other’s scent. You remind yourself to give him your sweater when morning comes, already noting the hoodie you need to remember to pick up, the lone one he left you in his closet.

But as the first rays of sun peeked through the blinds, sending stripes of sun into the bedroom, you tried not to feel the hard clench of your heart as the bare room came into sight. Despite the snoozing of alarms, the multiple knocks on his door, and the dawn of a new day, you let yourselves have an extra five, ten, fifteen, twenty minutes.

Just you and him before it would be you, and it would be him.

Seungcheol called you more than you called him. It was everywhere, even if it was just to say a quick “I love you” before a game, to hear your voice before he went to class, to listen to you complain about an assignment before he had to do his own.

As resilient as you showed yourself to be, you’d be lying if you said there was a part of you that was afraid of how much faith Seunghceol held for the both of you, but at ease you were with the constant bugging he’d do and the bugging he seemed to appreciate back.

By Christmastime, he’d texted you his itinerary for the holidays, explaining how he couldn’t spare a second to things like thinking. Most of his list involved spending all day rotting indoors with you.

As much as Seungcheol had hoped you’d pick a college nearer to him, he was less scared when you finally announced your college decisions close to graduation. The past year had proved a lot, mostly that you both were stronger than the distance. Which is why he was the first to congratulate you when you got into the college of your choice, despite the fact that you’d be even farther away, leaving home in what felt like the opposite direction to him.

You were scared too, mostly of how Seungcheol would react, but seeing the smile break out on his face when you told him gave you all the reassurance you needed. That summer brought you the best memories of your teenage years, with Seungcheol, preparing for you both to leave. Except this time, the air was less tense, fewer tears shed, fewer solemn goodbyes at airport gates, and less desperation in both of your hearts. A surety that you’d come back to each other.

Seungcheol was offered a contract with his dream hockey team when you were on the cusp of your final year. He told you nearly two weeks after he received the first email, not believing it until he was pestered to do so by the representative.

You cried on the phone that night, the ache in your chest unbelievably present as you wished you could hug him at that moment. He denied his own tears, but you knew his glassier-than-normal eyes weren’t just through the camera lens. You told him you were proud, you told him this was only the beginning, that you needed to sit in the bleachers with his jersey on for every game he’ll ever play, that he was about to have an entire career to be proud of soon.

He let a couple tears slip.

And when he showed up to your graduation, sitting next to your family, you gave him the biggest hug you could muster from your bones. That year may have been the last you’d have to endure apart, but it was somehow the hardest.

It was in that moment, when you pulled away to look at his smiling face, that the years registered in your mind.

You’re fifteen again, seeing Seungcheol for the first time, donning the features he hadn’t grown into yet, the features you hadn’t grown into yet. You have to tiptoe to meet his lips now, see a man where there was once a boy, the deep set of maturity behind his pretty eyes.

When he drops the last of your boxes into his — your shared apartment, you’re brought to the stark realization that you're going to stay here.

It’s when you’re unpacking your toothbrush, placing it in the cup right next to his that you realize you could do whatever you wanted with each other without having to work around flight schedules. It’s when he’s hobbling around wooden planks and screws in the bedroom, putting together the brand new queen-sized bed to replace his too-small twin, that you realize that you weren’t here for the week, or for the month or for any set amount of time; you were here forever.

At least that’s what you hope as you watch him collapse the last of the cardboard boxes to recycle, shoving in the corner of the entryway, leaving that job for tomorrow.

By the time you emerge in the living room after a shower, Seungcheol has already begun to unpack the delivery food on the coffee table. It’s an array of delicious smells, slightly soggy food, and mounds of styrofoam and plastic wrap; a feast for your tired, tired bodies.

The dumplings are amazing, and the warm feeling in your chest expands as you realize you can now order them whenever you like.

Seungcheol picks out the chopped chilies from his food, migrating them onto your own plate as he talks about his next practice session without interruption.

A thought occurs to you in that moment as you watch him down his cola. “Hasn’t coach put you on a diet plan?”

“Yeah,” he says normally. You merely stare at him, not understanding how any of this junk could be any good for his form, especially when you know he’s good about abstaining when it comes to training.

He smiles at the questioning look on your face, setting down his utensils, “It’s our first meal, in our first home. I think we deserve to share this with each other.”

A smile breaks out on your face at the thought of this being your first meal, the first of many meals together in this home. Of all the meals you’ll share in every home after this, every day.

And while Seungcheol finds himself sacrificing his diet to enjoy all of this greasy grub with you, you will also find yourself occasionally sharing his awfully bland chicken breasts and salads. All to share with each other.

Walking into the bustling restaurant in your uncomfortable shoes and your arm around Seungcheol’s, you’re quick to find the group you’re looking for.

The noise is a dead giveaway, and you quickly realize they haven’t changed.

You hear Soonyoung before you see him, his distinct laugh echoing the loudest across the sea of mingling heads. A loud banner hangs at the end of the room with your high school grad year.

You detach from Seungcheol as he finds his junior friends, and you find yours, taking both Soonyoung and Jiwoo into a bone-crushing hug. It’s been a while since you last saw them. The crowd of familiar faces greets you, making small talk with everyone as they introduce you to their partners and even their children. You’ve grown; all of you have.

“Seungcheol’s here too. You guys were together in high school, right?” somebody asks you at some point during the night. “He graduated before us, though; wonder who he’s here with.”

You don’t blame them for assuming, considering both of you have been in your own circles all night. That, added to the obvious assumptions of high school sweethearts, you only laugh a little as you reply with a wider-than-usual smile.

“Oh, he’s here with me,”

You go home with a permanent smile stuck to your face, talking more animatedly than usual in the car ride home. Seuncheol mirrors your smile as he listens.

Your good mood prevails for the rest of the night, even as you slip under the covers, ready to end the night on a happier-than-usual note. Seungcheol is reading his book when you crawl under his arm, head on his chest, and your arm slung across his torso. You feel his lips on the top of your head, the faint sound of his book being placed on the bedside table.

“What’s got you so smiley?” he asks with one of his own.

You shake your head as you reply, “Nothing. I’m just happy I saw Soonyoung and Jiwoo.”

“I’m glad you saw them too. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

You hum in response, suddenly remembering a conversation you had. “You know, Jess asked me who you were there with.”

“Figures,” he shrugs before laughing a little.“How much did she hesitate before asking you?”

“Looked like she was holding it in for a little bit. Don’t blame her, though. She probably thought we ended it in epic teenage fashion.”

He snorts at that, “Probably would’ve if you didn’t talk some sense into me.”

“Probably would’ve if you didn’t trust me like you did,” you crane your neck to look at him.

“Glad I wasn’t that far gone,” he whispers, a faraway look in his eyes despite looking directly at you. “Haven’t doubted us ever since.”

There’s that warm feeling that spreads throughout your body, an overwhelming feeling of contentment coming over you. There was nothing, nothing, that could convince you to be anywhere else, especially anywhere that wasn’t in his arms.

“Sometimes…well, a lot of the times, I think about us,” you start. “I thought us hitting six months was enough to tell me I’d be with you forever.”

He smiles at the thought of high school you, starry-eyed, awkward little kids. He remembers the way you blushed when he kissed you for the first time in front of the whole school, the heat that had risen to his own face at the time.

“And then we hit a year, and then two years,” you remember every surprise for every anniversary, from when you’d collect your allowance for weeks to get him something he’d like.

“And then college happened. I tried being so positive, but I had never been more scared for us. I hope we never have to go through something that hard ever again.” You almost sound like a child not wanting to go to the doctor’s office, but with the way you feel yourself tighten your grip around him, you don’t think it’s any different.

You can feel your eyes begin to well, and your voice begins to shake. It was nearly comical how quickly the smiles were turning into sentimental tears.

Seungcheol places a kiss on your lips, and you know it was meant to be reassuring, but it only wrenches open the floodgates. The tears begin to make their way down your face, sniffles muffled as you go back to burying your face in his chest, his shirt soaking the wetness. You can feel a rumble in his chest as he laughs at your state. He’s also squeezing up your sides and placing kisses in any place he can reach.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you murmur into his shirt.

“It’s okay. Today was very reflective,” he reassures, letting you stay hidden.

“I just—” you sniff. “I just wanna stay happy like this all the time.”

It’s only then that he guides your stained face away from his shirt to bring you to look at him, wiping the remnants of your tears as you try to keep the fresh ones at bay. “We’ll be happy, even when we’re sad. I can’t not be happy when I know I have you. I love you too much for that.”

“I love you,” you whisper into his lips, arms around his neck as you pull yourself to him, chest to chest. You kiss him properly, pecking him a few times to have your fill.

And then he’s pulling away, ever so slightly to bring a bare millimeter of gap between your lips. His hands burn where they rest, one on your waist, one on your thigh. He’s breathing hard. Both of you are.

“I’m gonna say something so not fit for right now,” he breathes.

You can’t help but freeze in his hold as you register his words, hesitating before you ask. “What?”

“Marry me.”

It comes out as the same whisper, directly into your lips as he utters the words. Like he was keeping a secret from the walls and the furniture, like they were only meant for you; because they were only meant for you. Your heart stops, and you vaguely wonder if you’re breathing at all.

“I—” he takes a long, shaky breath from his nose. “I was supposed to do this a little differently, but…”

You watch him reach over into his bedside drawer, the one you never touch, and bring out the smallest velvet box. Opening it reveals the prettiest, most delicate diamond you’ve ever seen, the jewel glinting and sparkling even in the dim bedroom lights.

That’s when you let out a tiny gasp, feeling the tears return, dripping down your face one after the other. “Choi Seuncheol, you bitch.”

You’re sobbing at this point, and it has him sitting up straighter, leaving the box to the side as he lurches for you when you pull away.

“Wait, fuck, sorry, I thought,” he exhales in frustration, hands trying to pull yours away from your face as you cry into your hands. He sounds desperate. “I got carried away, I don’t know what I was thinking—”

“No, it’s not that,” you finally manage through hiccups.

“Yes, of course, I’ll marry you, I’m just fucking emotional.”

You hear him laugh again, no doubt out of pure relief, as he nearly doubles over at the situation.

You’re a little calmer as you continue to sniffle, watching him with a half-disgruntled, half-amused expression, “Put it on, stupid, or do I need to cry again for you to do that.”

You don’t need to tell him twice as he slips the ring on your finger, the perfect fit, the perfect jewel, the perfect ring.

Bringing him closer, you kiss him again, lips pressed hard on his as you try to communicate every last emotion into it. You’re out of words, and you hope he knows what you're feeling. You know he knows; he always knows.

He’s reciprocating with the same vigor, arms coming up to wrap around you so tight it pushes you flush against his body. He nips at your lip, running his tongue over it for good measure before letting it enter your mouth. You let him take the lead, let him guide you through every motion, every step forward.

You’re putty when he pulls off your clothes for you, feeling your heart scream in protest whenever he pulls away to get rid of the obstructions. Your emotions were in a delicate place, and you suddenly couldn’t handle not being able to feel him against you consistently.

He does well to make it quick, moving back on top of you to occupy your mouth once more. He tries to migrate lower, latching onto your neck to continue his ministrations there, but you don’t let him as you pull his face back to yours again.

“I love you,” you whisper against his mouth before latching onto his lips.

He lets out a low grunt, pulling away for breath as he whispers it back, “I love you more.”

If you won’t let his mouth move, you let his hands do whatever they wish, feeling them move lower against your sides to reach your hips. His thumbs draw circles on them as he slowly moves his hands to where you can feel the arousal grow.

His fingers hit your bare heat as he plunges them into your folds, encasing your clit between his fingers. He drags them up slowly before moving back down, all the way to your now sopping hole to brush against the opening.

You sigh against his lips as he pushes his finger in slowly, lips releasing yours as you throw your head back to feel his digit around your walls. He pushes a second one in without hesitation, and you know he’s just as desperate as you right now.

He’s only two fingers deep, and yet you feel yourself beginning to come undone. He always knew what to do when he wanted to stretch you out faster, always knew what to do when he wanted to draw the pleasure out, keep you writhing for hours.

Right now was different; it felt like he was holding himself back to the point where it was almost painful. If he wasn’t worried about the stretch, he would’ve buried himself inside you already, and yet, when he feels you clench undeniably hard around his fingers as you orgasm, he feels like he might’ve cum himself.

His low moans echo off the walls with your louder, more desperate ones, riding out your high as you feel him bring his other hand up to rub your clit in fast circles, making the pleasure last. Coming down from your high, you feel him pause for a moment as he peppers kisses on your face, down your jaw and neck, finally coming to press his lips against yours.

“You okay?”

You nod in response, already grasping at his boxers to yank them down. Despite having just orgasmed, the satisfaction is yet to come, needing to feel him inside you before you combusted entirely.

He helps as he discards himself of the final obstruction, letting you stroke his painfully hard member in your hands. The face he makes is heavenly as you watch him feel your hands wrapped around him. The impatience takes over as he finally removes your hands, instead pinning them beside your head as he guides himself to your entrance.

Seungcheol goes back to planting himself onto you entirely, knowing exactly what you wanted from him, needing to feel him against you so flush and tight. He lets you wrap your hands around his neck as he finally begins to push himself into you, letting his tip graze the beginning of your entrance.

He breathes into your neck in deep, deep exhales, trying so hard not to cum before he’s even entered you entirely. He takes his time pushing into you, focusing on your fingers as they play with his hair, your palms running down his shoulder blades in a pathway. He closes his eyes as he sheaths himself in you completely, continuing his steady breaths to not come undone before you.

He begins to move when he feels like he’s gotten a hold of his bearings, feeling you hold onto him as he starts thrusting into your cunt. The sounds you make are bliss; the feeling of every inch of your skin on his is making him lose his already lost mind.

Your arms drop when they can’t hold onto him any longer, your hands remaining on him regardless, in some way or the other. Seungcheol takes hold of your hand, emerging from the crook of your neck to bring it to his mouth. He kisses it, your palms, the back of your hand, your fingers, directly over the rock he slipped on you himself.

The tenderness of his actions makes your brain rattle against your skull, the building feeling in your abdomen coming so close to collapsing into release. You find yourself pushing yourself up on your elbows, face finding the crook of his shoulder as you push yourself back into him when pulled back in the slightest.

You’re so close now, so, so close. “Cheol,”

“I know, darling. Cum for me, baby, I’ve got you, I’ve always got you.”

You release to the sound of his voice, the words that tumble from his desperate mouth, the feeling of his own cum shooting inside your spent walls. He continues to thrust into you as you both let out the loudest moans of the night, letting yourself get wrapped up in the feeling of each other before you lose your peak.

You register nothing as you feel him drop his weight on top of you, letting the moment pass.

Despite having had nights rougher, more lengthy than this, you somehow feel more spent than you have at the end of any of those escapades. The answer comes to you in the few minutes it takes for you both to catch your breath, Cheol being just as fatigued as you despite his athlete stamina.

You feel him continue to press his lips onto your skin, letting you do the same to him in between kisses. Neither of you speak for another few minutes, letting the heaviness of your hearts come forth in the showers of love you seem to want to give each other.

He’s grasping your left hand, toying with the ring fitted there. “I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”

A picture of the both of you hangs on the wall in your bedroom, dim yet decipherable in the low lights. There’s a moment where you have a flash of that same photo on multiple different walls. Different shades of neutral, in different rooms in different houses. It’s the same picture.

You think of what forever might hold for the both of you, separately and together. You let the prospect of every step, every change, and every milestone wash over you in waves that keep coming, crashing back to feed into another.

Change, you rehearse. There had been lots of it, and yet you had merely scratched the surface of what life was about to throw at you. You knew that, Seungcheol knew that. But you found yourself, in that moment, convinced in entirety that change is good, whether it feels good or bad.

Distance makes the heart grow fonder; you didn't realize the meaning of the phrase until you had to live apart from the love of your life. Painful, difficult, sometimes agonizing, yet also necessary, you conclude. You wonder if your love would ever have grown this deep if you hadn’t felt life without each other.

You think of how far you’ve come, how you’ve grown with each other. There was an encompassing of gratefulness that came with every step you had taken, and with every step you would take henceforth, you knew that for certain.

Perhaps you would find yourself voicing these emotional thoughts to him, but not now. The unspoken was louder than anything you could say.

“I can’t wait to spend forever with you, too.”

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