#anyway for my first time doing something like this I’m proud of how it came out

[dearratboii]

This is completely different from my usual content, in fact I’ve never made an edit like this before, and I don’t keep up with genshin at all,, but ough this lady could’ve been so fucking fine but they missed the mark yet again

[incognit0slut]

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3| PART 4

Behind Closed Doors 4

Your frustration over his broken promise melts away as soon as he calls, and you find yourself unexpectedly drawn to his voice, more than you anticipated.

Warnings: (18+, MDNI) Phone sex, mutual (and guided) masturbation, dirty talk ~4.7k words

A/n: this is just me wishing he was on quinn😔 anyway enjoy part 4, this mini series is not dead (i don’t even know how long it will be but let’s just celebrate that I’m finally updating)

All men do is lie, you thought as you flopped onto your bed.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t entirely his fault��but you weren’t in the mood to be reasonable. You remembered that car ride vividly. He had promised you more time together, a moment to finally be alone. Instead, what did you get? A new case, then another, and amidst all the chaos and dodging bullets (literally and metaphorically), you two somehow managed to drift apart.

The past few weeks had been the busiest since you started working at the BAU, and that was saying a lot, considering there was never really a moment of peace when you worked for the government. But this time was different, it seemed even more chaotic than usual. Every time you thought of bringing up the conversation with him—or maybe sneak in a little make-out session—something urgent would come up. 

There was never the right time, or the right moment. It felt as if the universe had other plans for you, and none of them involved the two of you getting a moment alone. And before you knew it, you were caught in this maddening cycle of missed opportunities, and the worst thing was, you were sexually frustrated.

This time, you had no one else to blame but him. Ever since he came into the picture, your carefully maintained self-control had started to slip, and now, despite your best efforts, you couldn’t ignore the growing need between your legs. It was aching, throbbing, and even the thought of him was making you hot and restless.

How did he manage to do that? He wasn’t even trying. There was nothing overtly seductive in the way he moved or spoke, and yet every glance, every accidental touch, seemed to affect you. Spencer. Just his name made your breath hitch, your body betraying you. You weren’t proud to admit this, but the mere thought of his fingers brushing your skin had you feeling that first rush of arousal slipping into your panties.

You huffed, considering digging out your pink silicone toy hidden somewhere in your drawer. And while you were contemplating this, knowing it had been a while since you last used it because nothing could compare to the feeling of his touch now, your phone on the bedside table rang.

Maybe the universe was really testing you, because his name flashed across the screen and it took a lot of self-control for you not to pick up on the first ring and demand him to fuck you right there and then, which sounded too crass when you weren’t in the middle of straddling his lap like the last time. So instead, you decided to wait until the sixth ring before you answered with a curt, “Hey.”

There was a pause, then a sigh. “You’re mad at me.”

Could he tell? Of course, he could. He always had an uncanny ability to read you, even over the phone. “Mad? Why would I be mad?”

“I can almost see you rolling your eyes.”

“I never roll my eyes,” you shot back.

“You rolled your eyes last week when Luke tried to tell us that his dog could sniff out bodies better than our trained ones.”

You suppressed a smile, surprised that he even noticed you giving Luke a once-over at that particular moment. “That was because his dog chases its tail more than it chases leads.”

"And I'm not worthy of an eye roll?"

“Honestly, you deserve more than an eye roll,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

"So you are mad,” he stated, growing quiet for a while. “I’m sorry.”

And now you felt bad. You ran a hand through your hair, trying to clear your thoughts. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know, but it doesn’t make me feel any less better.”

You felt a pang of guilt as you stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t exactly fair to blame him. Serial killers, unfortunately, didn’t come with a schedule, and now Spencer was already on his leave. You recalled the excitement in his voice when he told you about the seminars Emily had arranged for him to teach. He had spoken with an enthusiasm you hadn’t heard in a long time, his eyes practically lighting up every time he mentioned it.

How could you be upset about that?

"I'm not... mad.”

There was a slight teasing note in his voice as he replied, "Just annoyed then?"

You held back a smile. "Maybe a little."

“Anything I can do to help with that?” His voice softened through the phone. “Is there any way I can make it up to you?”

Your thoughts immediately went to the sticky situation between your legs, and you felt a flush of embarrassment. Technically, he could help with that. But could you say that? Should you? 

"I don’t know, depends on what you have in mind,” you replied, trying to steer your mind away from the direction it was heading. There was a pause, a silence that hung in the air as he carefully considered his next words.

"I could… start by telling you how much I miss you?”

Now that, you didn’t expect. Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest. Spencer had never really acknowledged his feelings with words when his actions spoke volumes, but hearing him say it out loud made the emotions between you feel undeniably real. It was as if his words shattered whatever platonic friendship the two of you had built over the past years.

Although you knew your friendship had fundamentally changed the moment he had you pinned on the desk that fine afternoon, it didn’t stop you from questioning about where you truly stood.

"You miss the idea of me," you corrected him, unable to resist yourself.

“You know that’s not true,” he replied gently.

“Do I?”

“Yes, you know me better than that,” he insisted. “You’re a great profiler, you can tell if I’m not being honest.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, despite trying to stay mad at him. "You hate being profiled.”

"That was before I realized how useful your skills are in deciphering my feelings.”

“You know I’d rather you tell me how you feel.”

“I did, I miss you, and you chose not to believe me.”

Your cheeks actually ached from smiling too much. You couldn’t help but feel a warm, tingling sensation spread through you. “Fine,” you sighed, finally giving in. “I believe you.”

“And?”

You rolled onto your side. “And what?”

“Do you not miss my absence at work?”

“Well…”

“Well?” He prompted.

Now how could you tell him you missed more than just his presence? How could you admit that you missed the way he made you feel, the way his breath felt hot against your skin, without sounding obvious or too needy? Because you missed everything about him. His hands, his lips, his tongue—oh dear god, his tongue.

Spencer suddenly called out your name, and you forced yourself to focus, feeling your heartbeat quicken as you cleared your throat.

“Yes, I—I miss you,” you finally admitted.

There was a pause, then his voice came through, lighter, teasing. “Why do you sound like that?”

“…like what?”

“Like you’re out of breath.”

You gripped the sheets tightly, the fabric bunching under your fingers. How could you even begin to explain this to him now that he was onto you? You felt like you were on the verge of a full-blown emotional meltdown. God, if he knew how many times you’d replayed every kiss, every touch, in your mind, he’d never let you live it down.

It was almost laughable, really. Here you were, trying to keep it together, and failing miserably. “It’s just… I really, really miss you.”

“You really miss me? Are you trying to say something?”

You hesitated, your mind scrambling for the right words without revealing too much. “No…?”

“Mhm,” he replied, clearly unconvinced. “You’re not telling me everything.”

You gripped the phone tighter. “I’m just saying... It's hard without you here. You know, in every way.”

“In every way?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling both embarrassed and mortified. “I just... I miss how you make me feel. Physically.”

“Physically?” he pressed. “Can you elaborate?”

“I’m... you know, I’ve been... missing certain things. Certain... activities.”

“Certain activities,” he repeated your words once again. It was then that you realized he was teasing you, clearly enjoying your discomfort a little too much. “You mean like... talking?”

“No. More like... the other stuff we do when we’re alone.”

"I don't understand."

At that point, your embarrassment was gnawing at you. You wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. “God, Spencer, don’t make me say it,” you groaned, burying your face in your pillow.

“Come on, I need a little more than that.” He sounded both amused and curious. “I’m just making sure I understand you right.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you muttered into the pillow, your voice muffled but still clear enough for him to hear.

“Actually, I don’t think I do. You could be missing so many things, you have to help me out here.”

You turned your head to the side, exasperation coloring your tone. “Spencer…”

"Yes?" he responded innocently.

"You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

"I find precise communication to be very important.”

You let out a groan, feeling the last of your restraint crumble. “Alright! Fine!” you snapped. “I’m horny, okay? And it’s all your fault!”

His laughter rang through the phone, and you could almost see the grin spreading across his face. “My fault?"

"Yes! I feel like a deprived, horny teenager here, and I just…”

You trailed off, hardly believing you had actually said that out loud. The realization hit you like a wave, and for a moment, you wished you could take it back. There was a pause that seemed to stretch on forever and you wondered if you had gone too far.

He finally broke the silence, breathing out your name in a way that made your skin tingle. "You could've told me from the start."

You could, but you’d rather not.

"I didn't want to sound desperate."

"You can be desperate with me,” he said softly. “Just say the word and I’ll give you anything you want.”

If there was one thing Spencer was good at, it was getting under your skin. He really shouldn’t be saying those words, not now, not when it was making you crave him even more. You swallowed, feeling a tightness in your chest, a knot in your stomach. The part of you that always played it safe wanted to retract, to laugh it off as a joke. But then there was that other part, the part that craved his attention, the part that was tired of holding back.

“Tell me, what do you want now?”

You took a deep breath and laid on your back, the words catching in your throat. You felt your pulse quicken.

“I want… you.”

“Tell me how you want me.”

Your fingers trailed over the sheets, your touch light as you imagined it was him beneath your fingertips. “Spencer…”

“Come on,” he pressed. “Tell me.”

You paused, your heart pounding in your chest. You could almost imagine him right in front of you, staring at you with those beautiful brown eyes that always managed to make you melt, coaxing words from you that you barely dared to think, let alone speak.

Just say it. He's waiting. He wants to hear it.

Your hand began to move.

“I… I want your hands on me.”

“Where do you want my hands?”

“Everywhere,” you whispered, your fingers grazing your body as if they were his. You closed your eyes.

“Everywhere?”

You found yourself nodding even though he couldn’t see you.

“On my hips…”

Your hand danced across your hips.

“My stomach…”

Your palm slipped under your shirt, moving slowly up your abdomen, feeling the warmth of your own touch and wishing it was his.

“Between my thighs…”

You paused at the hem of your panties, the only barrier beneath your shirt, hesitating as a flush of warmth spread through you. The line was silent for a moment, save for the sound of his breathing—a soft, heavy rhythm that matched the pounding of your own heart.

“Where else do you want me?”

Your fingers dipped inside the fabric. “I want you lower…”

“Tell me exactly where.”

“Where I’m most sensitive,” you confessed, the words slipping out before you could stop them.  Your thighs instinctively squeezed together, hips rolling gently as your free hand began to drift south. “Spencer… please…”

“Are you touching yourself?”

“I…”

“Are you?”

“No…”

“Do you want to touch yourself?”

You licked your lips, your breath coming faster. “Maybe.”

“Then do it, no one’s stopping you.”

You hesitated, the reality of the situation sinking in. You couldn’t believe this was happening, that you were having this conversation with him. "This feels so naughty.”

"Naughty can be nice, though, right?" he assured you. "Don't think about it too much. It’s just you and me.”

There really was something about his voice, the way it effortlessly wrapped around you—smooth, coaxing, almost hypnotic. Despite the hesitation that tugged at your mind, your hand began to move lower, and your legs parting involuntarily. A soft gasp escaped your lips when your hand flew right to your pussy, fingers quickly tracing the length of your folds. You were already wet, and you began to spread your arousal towards your clit.

“Spencer…” you whined, feeling the sudden rush of sensations.

“Keep going,” he urged. “Tell me what you feel.”

You closed your eyes. “It feels… good…”

“Describe it to me.”

You took a shaky breath, trying to find the words through the haze of pleasure. “It’s warm and wet… and…”

And you wished he was the one touching you.

You let your mind drift to your fantasy. You imagined it was his fingers circling your clit. You imagined his lips against yours, the way they would move together. You imagined him whispering these words right in front of you, his eyes locked on yours as you writhed beneath him. The fantasy felt so vivid that for a moment, you could almost feel his weight pressing down on you, his presence enveloping you completely.

Your imagination urged you to move faster, but you felt limited by the fabric in the way. You called out his name. “Can I… can I take my, um, underwear off?”

You could almost hear the smile in his voice as he replied, “Of course you can.”

You put your phone down, and with trembling fingers, you slid the fabric down your legs. You discarded them quickly and turned the call to speaker before you settled back on the bed. Your hand returned to your body, fingers brushing over your sensitive skin. You parted your legs even wider, and as your fingers found their rhythm, a moan escaped you.

“Better?”

You sighed in relief as you continued to rub your clit. “So much better.”

“Keep it slow, okay? We don’t want to rush.”

His voice was low and soothing, and you couldn’t believe how just by his voice he had gotten you so worked up.

“Now press a little harder.” You complied, applying a bit more pressure on your clit. "Right there. Do you feel that?"

"Yes," you gasped, your back slightly arching off the bed.

“I wish I could see you right now," he murmured. “I'd kiss you where you're touching.”

You let your imagination take over. You pictured him with his head right between your thighs, his eyes locked on yours with those intense, pretty eyes. You imagined his mouth moving over your clit, sucking gently while his fingers explored between your folds. The thought was so vivid, so real, that you could almost feel his warm breath against your skin.

The mental image of him looking up at you was almost too much to bear. “Spencer…”

"Keep going. Are your fingers wet?" You could simply moan back a reply, not trusting your own voice. “Now slowly slide in one. Can you do that for me?”

You did as he said, sliding a finger into your wetness. You could feel how tight you were, the slick warmth of your arousal enveloping your skin. You looked down between your legs and watched as you pleased yourself. It wasn’t exactly an unfamiliar sight. You had done this countless times before, but never with the voice of a man guiding you, especially Spencer—the last person you’d imagine doing this with.

Yet look at how much effect he had on you.

"You're quiet," his voice suddenly came through. "Are you still with me?"

"Yes," you managed to whisper. "It's just... a lot."

"In a good way, I hope?"

“Very good,” you assured him.

You could practically picture the corner of his lips twitching into a proud smile. “Good,” he recited. “Now try adding another finger.”

You couldn't help a moan escaping your lips as you pushed in your middle finger, the sound louder than you intended.

"How does that feel?"

"Full," you breathed out, adjusting to the sensation.

“Yeah? I bet you’re so tight.”

You were, awfully so. Your walls clenched around your fingers, almost swallowing them as you started to move them in a steady rhythm. The pleasure built in your lower stomach, a warm, coiling tension that made you desperate for more. You needed his voice, you craved his guidance, even from afar.

“Spence…” you whined. “Keep talking, please.”

“You want me to describe how I’d touch you if I were there?”

You moaned in response, the sound escaping your lips involuntarily, urging him to continue.

“If I were there,” he began, his voice low, “I’d start by kissing you slowly.”

You could almost feel it, his lips on yours, his tongue probing inside your mouth.

“I’d move lower,” he continued. “Kiss your neck, your collarbone… while my fingers would move along your hips, your thighs, getting closer and closer to where you need me most.”

You whimpered, your fingers moving faster as you followed his vivid description, imagining his touch guiding you.

“I’d tease you, brush my fingers right at your entrance,” he whispered. “Then, I’d slip them inside you, just like you’re doing now.”

Your breaths came in short gasps.

“I’d spread your legs wide,” he continued again, and you heard a faint rustling noise in the background. “I’d move my fingers in… and… out...”

Your legs fell further apart.

“I’d curl my fingers the same way I did that day,” he went on. “Do you remember?”

How could you not? It never truly left your mind. You could picture that day clearly, the feeling of his fingers and mouth working on your sensitive spot seemed to linger in your memory.

“I’d do the same thing that you like,” he proceeded, and you focused on his voice. “I’d lean in close… licking you… sucking you.”

You moaned loudly as the image of his mouth on your clit flashed through your mind. You could almost feel the way he would sloppily lap at you, drinking in every drop of your arousal with each eager flick of his tongue.

“Go faster for me,” he urged. “I-I want to hear how wet you are.”

You followed his words, and the slick sounds of your arousal filled the quiet around you as you imagined him there, his fingers replacing yours. You could hear more noise through the line, the subtle rustle of clothes moving, the faint sound of his breathing growing heavier before he let out a low grunt.

“You make the prettiest sounds,” he breathed out. “Now add another finger.”

Your eyes narrowed into a frown, trying to slip a third finger in but the stretch was too intense for you to continue. “I-I can’t.”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothed. “Just take it slow. Try to relax.”

You took a deep breath, trying to follow his instructions. You slowly eased in another finger, feeling the awkward stretch but the initial discomfort quickly faded into a deeper pleasure, and you moaned softly.

“Oh, fuck.”

“There you go,” he encouraged. “Feel that? Feel how full you are?”

You hummed a reply.

“That’s how I want you to feel when I’m finally inside you.”

A whine left your lips. In your head, you saw him, his body poised above yours, his cock sliding smoothly into you. You imagined the slick, rhythmic motion, the way each thrust would fill you, stretching you, overwhelming you. You cried out a filthy moan at the thought, unabashed and desperate, as you began to pump your fingers inside your cunt.

“Push deeper for me… I know you can take it.”

You gasped, pushing your fingers as deep as they could go. “I can’t… I need… oh…”

“I know, I know,” he whispered. “You need more. You need me inside you, don’t you?”

“Spencer, please…” you begged, your voice breaking into desperate, choked sobs.

“You want that? You want to feel me stretch you?”

“Yes, yes…” you managed to moan out, your movements became more desperate.

“God, you’d be so tight around me… I’d have your legs spread wide so I… I-I could see how perfect you’d take me.”

You could almost feel his hands on your hips, his body pressing against yours, filling you completely. Your fingers moved frantically, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as you felt the tension building to an unbearable peak.

“You’d pull me closer, wouldn’t you? You’d ask for more, like you always do, and I’d give it to you,” he promised. “I’d give it to you so hard… s-so deep…”

And that was when you heard it—the unmistakable sound of wetness, like skin sliding over slick, damp skin. The sound was filthy, making your pulse race as you wondered what he might be doing on the other end of the line. Your voice trembled as you slowly asked him, “Spence, are you…?”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end before he let out a soft, almost sheepish laugh, as if you had caught him red-handed. “I… yeah,” he admitted, his voice breathless and strained. "Do you know how hard it is not to when listening to your voice?"

Your fingers subconsciously quickened at his confession, their movements becoming more urgent as you imagined him laying on his own bed, hand wrapped around his cock. You bit your lip to stifle your moans as you whispered, “Tell me what you’re doing.”

His breathing grew ragged, his words coming in clipped bursts. “I’m… I’m touching myself…”

You tried to focus on his voice, but the sound of his sloppy strokes began to echo louder. “Tell me more.”

“I’m… I’m rubbing… my fingers over the head,” he gasped, and you curled your fingers deeper, using your palm to grind against your clit. The way he sounded so lost in his pleasure, unable to hold back, had you imagining him stroking himself. You pictured yourself doing it for him, remembering how it felt that day when you had his cock in your hand—the weight, the warmth, the way he looked at you through intense eyes.

Your breathing grew heavier, louder, and his voice cracked with a strained moan as he whispered, “Can you lower your phone?”

You fumbled with the device, bringing it closer to where your fingers worked tirelessly between your legs. “Like this?”

“God, yes,” he groaned, the sound of his strokes growing faster and more urgent. “You sound so perfect.”

You let out a soft cry, your fingers thrusting in and out of your cunt frantically as you imagined him watching you, listening to every sound you made. The wet, slick noises filled the room, so intense and filthy. You looked down to see your juices spilling over your fingers, soaking the sheets beneath you. The sheer sound of it was enough to drive him crazy.

“I—f-faster, please,” he panted into the phone. “I need you to go faster.”

Your eyes widened for a moment as the desperate plea slipped from his lips. But you didn’t have the mental space to think about it. Your focus was solely on reaching your release as you ultimately sped up your pace. Your body began to tighten up, feeling so much pressure and pleasure building up every time your fingertips hit that deep spot inside you.

"Oh—fuck!” You exhaled sharply as the familiar sensation took over you. “I’m cumming I’m cumming I’m cumming—”

With a cry that was both a sob and a shout, your pussy fluttered around your fingers. Your orgasm ripped through you without warning, sending shockwaves of intense pleasure through your body as you gasped and shuddered. Your voice escaped in broken moans and whines, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

“Spencer… oh, God, Spencer…”

The sound of your climax drove him to his own release. His breath hitched, his movements faltering as he let out a harsh sound from his throat. It was raw and unrestrained, downright filthy, and you listened intently, your fingers slipping out only to circle and rub your clit, drawing out the final waves of your orgasm.

Finally, when you couldn’t take it anymore, your hand fell away, and you lay there, breathing heavily, your body relaxing into the bed. Your room was quiet afterward, the only sound coming from was the sound of your own breathing. Then you heard him calling out your name, checking in. But through the post-orgasmic bliss, all you could manage in response was a giggle.

“You’re… laughing?” He mused. “Should I be concerned?”

“No, no,” you replied, still catching your breath, a satisfied smile spreading across your face. “It’s just… I can’t believe we did that.”

A gentle laugh escaped his lips, a warm, soothing sound that calmed your racing heart. "Did you like it?"

You liked it a lot. "Can’t say that I didn’t.”

"So I take it you're not mad at me anymore?"

You let out a soft, contented sigh. “I wasn’t even that mad to begin with. Just… frustrated,” you confessed. “But I think we handled that pretty well.”

“Maybe a little too well,” he agreed softly. “I can't believe I need to take a shower this late.”

You looked down between your legs at his words, and a wave of embarrassment washed over you as you noticed the patch of wetness on your bed. It wasn't small—it spread across the fabric in a noticeable, damp stain. “Uh, yeah,” you admitted with a nervous laugh. “I also need to change my sheets.”

Then you heard a low, almost pained groan from his end of the line.

“What?”

“It’s just…” He paused, and you could almost hear him struggling to find the right words. "I'm now picturing you on your bed."

"Isn't that what you've been doing?"

"Well, yes, but now it's… different."

You couldn't help the amused grin that spread across your face. "Different how?"

"Let's just say the image in my mind is a lot more detailed now and it's not helping me calm down."

A burst of laughter erupted from your chest as you gripped your phone closer to you. “Is this your way of blaming me because you still have a hard-on?” you taunted. “I mean, I’m simply stating the facts.”

“But you’re painting a picture in my head.”

“Of me drenching the sheets just by hearing your voice?”

He made a low, strained sound. “Stop.”

“I can send you a picture if you like,” you offered slyly. “Help you visualize it better.”

There was a moment of stunned silence on his end before he finally muttered, “You shouldn’t.”

“You’re right, I shouldn’t.”

“But if you insist…”

You laughed softly. “Good night, Spencer.”

“Wait—You’re hanging up?”

“Yep,” you said cheerfully. “I thought you needed a shower.”

He made another frustrated sound, somewhere between a groan and a sigh, before reluctantly agreeing. “Fine, fine. Good night.”

And that was it. You ended the call with a satisfied smile. But as you stared at your phone, a rush of thoughts began to swirl through your mind. You were well aware of the potential risks of what you were about to do—how it could be traced back to you. You could almost hear Penelope lecturing you about online security and the dangers of leaving a digital footprint.

But when your mind kept circling back to Spencer—Spencer’s breathless voice, Spencer’s prominent veins on his hands, Spencer with a freaking hard-on in his bed—it was hard to think rationally. Before you could stop yourself, you propped your phone on your pillow and posed for the camera. Legs spread wide, your nipples pressing against your shirt, a flirtatious smile playing on your lips. The shot looked like it came out of a porno movie. You quickly sent it to him.

It took exactly 7 seconds before your phone rang again.

“Yes, Spencer?” you answered, trying to sound innocent.

You heard shuffling and a muffled grunt, and then, faintly, the rustling of fabric. It sounded like he was fumbling with his phone, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip at the frustration in his voice.

“How do I turn this into video call again?”

[keferon]

Did I spend two hours writing this? Ha! No, why do you ask. *lying through my teeth* anyway come here Mecha au Texaid enjoyers. come get yall juice.

———

Vortex isn’t sure when it started. Doesn’t even dare to try to pinpoint the when, why, where and how of it. Just that it exists. Some forgotten feeling stored in the deep recesses of his somewhat intact consciousness that has resurfaced. It burns him, tears down at the steel walls he had formed around himself. Makes him feel like he’s being broken down then built up again. 

It’s a wonderful, terrifying feeling that eats away at him the more ‘he’s’ here. The more that secretly unhinged medic-turned-pilot crawls into his cockpit, every time getting more comfortable with connecting with him literally and figuratively. With Aid slowly coming to not outright radiate hatred with every encounter. Sharing stuff like music, who they couldn’t stand, and answers to the most stupid questions like ‘wha’s your favorite color?’. Vortex had cackled at Aid for that one.

At first he rejects the feeling. Stops it at full force, imagining it going through a trash compactor or being incinerated to ash. He makes himself believe it’s a game. Empty threats, flirtatious behavior and cutting banter puts him at the top 5 of First Aid’s Most Annoying Motherfuckers to Ever Exist list. A tidbit of information he is proud as fuck of.

But that denial came to a stop the moment Shockwave had stepped into his hangar while Aid had been in his cockpit, his visor the only shield to keep that creepo from getting near him. Vortex may have been a homicidal maniac, but there had always been something about Shockwave’s presence that made him feel suffocated even back when he was alive. It took some silent processing to realize—and goddammit he hates himself for it—how afraid he had been. Not so much for himself but for the little flesh bag hidden away inside him. 

It had rocked him, that’s for damn sure. When Aid had asked what made him different from all the other pilots Vortex had disregarded and killed, he answered truthfully at the time. ‘You treat me like a threat, like I’m the one in control of this power instead of you.’ And while that still held some merit, it changed kind of. ‘Threat’ turned into person. And the power that he holds became more and more of Aid’s. How easily Vortex was swayed into giving into Aid’s requests. 

The first one being to dissect that Quintesson. He had reveled in the way it squirmed and screeched, trying fruitlessly to get out of their grip. Vortex considered to simply rip it in half for fun, until he felt something from the connection in the drift. A sort of fascination and curiosity quietly humming through the link. Took him longer than he’d like to admit to realize it wasn’t coming from him but Aid. A drive to know how this creature worked, how to best take it apart to examine its insides. And before he knew what he was doing, Vortex did, cutting it as neatly down the middle as he could manage. He remembers the shudder of excitement from the link, at how different that alien was, how this information could benefit battles in the future. The bombardment of information and feelings had shocked him, though he of course didn’t show it, but it also sent a thrill of wonder through him. ‘This freak’ he had chuckled to himself, feeling as Aid leaned out from his cockpit to examine the creature.

After that he realized how dangerous this was. The power Aid unknowingly held over him, and all he needed were his words. But he found that he didn’t care all that much. Especially not when Aid would sometimes fall asleep in his cockpit after a grueling mission, and Vortex would snap his visor at anyone who tried to get him out. Moments like that made him wish he still had a human body. To flick the nerd’s nose, to ruffle his hair, to playfully shove him. Thoughts like those made his non-existent heart throb, sickening himself with those sappy sentiments. He will never mention this to Aid, you’d have to rip it out of his cold, dead conscience.

Standing in the hangar, he’s not sure when he had decided this promise to himself. Doesn’t even try to pinpoint when. But he knows that if this little ant ever died, he wouldn’t stop destroying everything in his path until he either killed the one who had done it, very slowly at that, or deactivated with vengeance still roaring through his circuits. 

OH I LOVE THIS SO FUCKING MUCH KFKFNFKDNHDKRKTNRJRMT

Previous next

[haikyu-mp4]

My friend, the smiley

word count; 914 – gn!reader, @makkir0ll had this idea for a manager!reader n it was too good

“That’s great, Kageyama!” the photographer yelled out, and you clutched your clipboard to your chest with a proud smile. Kageyama had been hired for a skincare commercial, and you were the lucky manager tasked with joining him to make sure everything ran smoothly.

They had him wearing a pastel-coloured cotton shirt, which brightened his complexion considerably as he stared casually at the camera or wherever he was instructed to look. The photographer eventually put the camera down to look over this batch of photos, and a stylist waved Kageyama over for an outfit change. This time it was a white t-shirt that stopped at a very flattering point for his bicep. You tried not to eye him too much as he just changed tops right there in the middle of the room, so used to changing volleyball uniform in front of whoever stood close by anyway.

Then he walked up to you, and you quickly smoothed out any wrinkles until you realised you were also stroking a bit too obviously over his muscles, so you quickly pulled your hand back. “Sounds like you’re doing great,” you encouraged him, holding up his water bottle.

He thanked you and took a sip before answering. “I guess I’m great at looking places,” he said, and despite the lack of hint in his voice, you knew him well enough to understand that it was a joke and chuckled under your breath in response.

“I suppose being ranked one of the most handsome volleyball players from Japan means something,” you said, wiggling your eyebrows, which made him blush slightly and look away from you.

“Let’s get a round of smiling photos!” the director announced, and Kageyama’s gaze snapped back to you, both of you staring at the other with wide eyes.

“I’m not great at that!” he whisper-yelled just as the stylist came over to pull him back to the shoot and fix his hair. Kageyama glanced at you nervously over his shoulder before eventually settling on the little wooden chair in front of the pastel pink sheet.

“You can do this,” you mouthed and signed with two thumbs up. He seemed to gulp before looking at the camera, and a certain wave of dread fell over you at the smile he came up with. Not great.

The director made a weird sound, obviously hesitant and trying to be polite. “Maybe a… more relaxed… smile?” she suggested.

Kageyama nodded sharply and sighed, before going right back to that same smile, except it was a bit more crooked as he tried to relax at the same time. You put a hand to your forehead, shaking your head for a moment before walking up behind the photographer. The director didn’t seem pleased to have you there, so you bowed politely and cleared your throat.

“May I talk to him for a second?” you asked. When she nodded you spared no time in walking over to your player, standing close enough that the others in the room might not hear.

“Is it that bad?” he asked, and you almost melted from those blue eyes. He looked so innocent sometimes.

“No! Just… you know how it was with the Olympic posters,” you said first, waiting for him to hum in confirmation. “Why don’t you think of something that usually makes you smile? Like playing with Hinata?” you suggested, and he so desperately wanted to give you good results that he just agreed to that right away.

“I can try that,” he told you. You walked back to your place and watched with hopeful eyes as Kageyama seemed to be thinking of something. Then a small smile fell on his lips that slowly grew wider, and suddenly he was looking at the camera with sharp eyes and a devilish grin. You pursed your lips, thinking not quite like that, Tobio.

Before you got to say anything, the photographer made a comment of “no teeth,” so Kageyama listened and only closed his lips without adjusting anything else. That made his cheeks look laughably strained.

Even though the non-smiling pictures came out great and not being able to smile like they wanted was in no way breaking the contract, you wanted him to build a good reputation for commercials.

If only you could think of a good way to make him smile normally. You’d seen it before, the way he smiled when Ushijima really slammed the ball and thanked him for a perfect set, or the way he smiled when you two had time to talk about your lives outside of work.

You hurriedly whispered his name, making some stylists who stood around chuckle at you, but when you finally caught his eye, you could see his shoulders visibly relax. With an uncertain smile, you started doing the little dance you had told him you learned in an amateur class last week. He had asked you to show him some time, to which you had run away with flushed cheeks and a poor excuse of going back to work.

He had no clue what you were doing, but looking at you make such a fool of yourself for him while he clearly heard someone laugh at you, made him smile so genuinely, and the camera was suddenly clicking consecutively. The director closed her eyes for a moment, praying some of the pictures came out good and telling Kageyama to at least remember to hold up the product.

A lovesick puppy smile also sells products, I suppose.

masterlist

[candy-rat]

☀️ˏˋ°•*⁀➷✧Puppy Love✧

♡ Percy Jackson x Fem!Apollo Reader

♥︎ Summary: you attempt to teach the cute boy you may or may not have some feelings for how to better work a bow and arrow. || Percy blurb!

☆ Warnings: None!

(ofc i know the relations between Apollo, Zeus, And Poseidon but the readers relation w Percy and the reader is the same w him and annabeth so use that info as u must) 

★ A/N:  I’ve only ever read the first and a bit of the second book + the two movies so this is based off the new series(Walker Scobell) + plus I have the BIGGEST crush on Walker Scobell.

♪ Credits: Ty Bunny’s RPH for the divider<3

+Barely Proof read

It was another sunny day at Camp Half-Blood, kids either chasing each other around or actually putting effort to train and what nots.

Surprisingly the archery field was as empty as ever, which is why you find yourself here.

As the daughter of Apollo you tend to neglect your gift of archery rather finding yourself in simple socialization, but today you thought differently.

Your dad would be proud, wouldn’t he?

As you were in the middle of your archery session you swore you heard the sound of bushes rustling.

The sudden noise caused you to turn around, trying to identify where the noise was coming from.

You were met with the sight of a boy.

Not just any boy.

Percy Jackson.

With earlier memory you can recollect, the boy was definitely not the best with a bow and arrow, so why would he be here?

“Uh, hi” the boy spoke up.

“Oh uh, hi?” You responded in a confused yet optimistic tone.

There was an awkward silence for a moment.

You’ve seen the boy on multiple other occasions, you never really talked to him before.

To be honest with yourself, you probably had the slightest crush on the boy.

The tiniest one of course, you barely knew him.

“So, do you need something? Or?” you spoke, breaking the silence.

“Oh! Uh yeah I did, yeah.” He replied with a slight crack in his voice.

Another moment of silence.

“Uhm, what do you need, uh Percy was it?” You questioned.

You didn’t need to ask, of course you knew his name.

It’s not creepy, word just gets around you know?

“Yeah uh that- that’s my name, you’re (Name) right? Daughter of Apollo?” He asked.

“Oh yeah, that’s me.” You replied.

“You’re like really good at archery right?” He asked once more.

“You could say that, being the daughter of Apollo kinda you know comes with it, but my older siblings are definitely better.” You confirmed.

“Well I was uh wondering-“ he responded.

“Mhm?” You simply hummed in reply.

“If you could, i don’t know uh teach me how to get better at archery?” He finally let out.

You looked at your bow and back at Percy.

You wonder exactly why he asked you.

Maybe he just came here in hopes to ask the first person he sees, or maybe he was looking for you specifically.

That’s a nice thought.

“Really?! Okay, I don’t mind!”you replied.

“You don’t?!” He replied.

“Of course not! I don’t have much to do anyway.” You giggled.

Before anything you told him the basics, how to stand, how to correct your breathing, and how to aim better.

The day went on.

Percy missed the target completely most times.

But once he finally got remotely close, you had to say you were proud of the blonde.

You were happy to even spend time with him.

“There you go Percy! That was great, you’re getting better!” You chuckled, swinging you arm over his shoulder squeezing him a bit.

He froze at the sudden contact for a moment.

“Thanks! I really c-couldn’t have done it without you, you know!” He went on blushing.

“Awe don’t sweat it, it comes naturally so I never need to put much in to it, but thanks!” You thanked the boy, feeling your face heat up.

Percy handed you the bow back queuing the end of your lesson.

“You know if you ever want me to teach you again I’d be happy to, just swing by cabin 7 I’m usually there.” You mentioned.

“Yeah sure, but about that-“ he started.

“About what?”

“Well uh, seeing each other again you know? Like not during training” He blushed.

“O-oh! Yeah i wouldn’t mind at all, I enjoy your company!” You responded.

“Really?!” Percy added.

“Yeah really.” You confirmed.

“I uh- like being around you too.” Percy smiled.

The two of you got along perfectly.

Like a puzzle piece.

You definitely had a crush on him.

He might like you back.

Percy definitely is too scared to confess anytime soon.

And maybe that’s good.

Love takes time.

Especially puppy love.

A/n: innocent puppy love is deff the vibe I’ll always go for with my Percy fics so hopefully I’ll have time to do more      (Miles 42 fic in the making!!!!)<3

[enwoso]

CHANGED — arsenal wfc x lionesses!reader

now i swear someone requested this but i literally can’t find the request in my inbox at all and i’m actually starting to think ive gone crazy and that i dreamt this request but anyways part two for hyper cause if i dreamt the request or not i loved it for what i can remember of it🙃

read hyper here

masterlist

it had been a few weeks since your chat with leah, and slowly your behaviour had started to change and not for the worse. but for the better!

it took a few more scoldings from leah and kim for doing  silly things like, putting food colouring in pelovas shampoo or folding over all the pages in emily's book she was reading or when kept interrupting steph when she was filming a thirty second clip for the media team it ending up taking the australian thirty minutes to film the video instead of a minute.

but after one to many sit downs with leah and kim something clicked in your head and your mischievous acts slowly stopped.

so much so that in the first few days when you hadn't pulled a joke on anyone, the arsenal girls were wondering if you were sick or if something drastic had happened.

the girls feeling on edge about not having to check over their stuff or checking over door handles incase you had gotten to them before they had.

“y/n are you sure your not sick, there’s no way you’ve just turned down kyra’s attempt to cause havoc again!”

“i’m a changed women stephy! that’s the old me!”

and while you were technically a changed women it was all because of that big goal you had looming over your head. that you wanted to reach.

getting to the euro 2025.

yeah you still pulled a small harmless joke like scaring alessia whenever she came around a corner but that was just banter plus her face every time you did it was priceless.

plus leah said you were allowed to have some fun!

"you've had a good session today y/n" kim complimented you as she sat down next to you in the changing room you busy taking off your boots, kim felt a lot more relaxed the past few weeks not having to look over her shoulder every time she took a step in the training ground.

"thanks kim" you smiled at the captain, "let's hope you have another masterclass this weekend ey?" she nudged you as a small laugh came from you as kim was bringing up your two goals you got last weekend in the league.

"i hope so" you shrugged, your mind wasn't really on the weekend as much as it should you were more concerned about if you were going to get the phone call tomorrow or not, which would determine where your family were having their summer holiday.

"you thinking about the getting the call up?" kim asked quietly knowing your head was clearly somewhere else due to your lack of chattiness, normally your teammates would have a hard time getting you to stop talking.

you hummed as you nodded, kim bumping her shoulder into yours. "you'll get the call up, there's been a massive improvement in you over the last few weeks y/n"

you looked up to kim, seeing a genuine look on her face, "i mean it, and not only on the pitch but off the pitch too!"

"gosh your full of compliments today kimmy! did you finally wake up on the right side of the bed" you joked as you watched kim roll her eyes a small scoff coming from her.

"anddd she back! there's the y/n i know!"

it was the next day and it was safe to say you hardly slept spending too long up thinking about what you would do if you didn't get the call up, all those extra sessions, all those days spent trying to change your behaviour would have been for nothing.

but also thinking about what you would do if you did get the call up, how happy you would be and how proud your family would be of you.

walking into the colony you were tired, you were dragging your feet as your walked. your body feeling tired and you hadn't even done anything today yet.

grabbing your usual breakfast and slouching down on a chair on the closest table. "heard anything yet?" you looked up to see leah raising her eyebrows at you. shaking your head you began to eat praying it would wake you up a little.

"the list doesn't get posted until 12 so—" you hummed along with whatever leah was saying before you along with the other who were sat on your table fell into your usual small talk.

"y/n! your phones ringing!" alessia tapped you on the shoulder, your eyes snapping to the phone screen an unknown number on the screen.

"well answer it then!" leah said quickly as you scrambled to answer. standing up and walking over to the stand in the hallway where you'd be able to hear whoever was calling better.

leah, along with beth, kim, lia and alessia were all looking trying to decipher what you were saying and what the scenario was.

"do you think she's got the call up?" beth whispered as leah was trying so hard to lip read what you were saying but was really having no luck as she hadn't a clue what you were saying.

"surely, she'd be a great addition to the squad for the euros" alessia pointed out as beth hummed, along with lia and kim nodding along.

"oh she'll be gutted if she doesn't get it" lia sighed as kim give a knowing look. while she was silently praying for you hoping that you would as she dread to think about your reaction if you didn't get it.

"will you shut up i'm trying to listen!" leah huffed as she scowl at the group before going back to try her lip reading again it feeling as though you'd been standing in that hallway on the phone for the last hour when in reality it had been probably less than ten minutes.

"how is she able to hear when there's a wall there-" alessia whispered in beth's direction as beth shrugged waving off what leah had just said.

"right act normal she coming back-" leah spoke fast turning her body back around to the position she was sat in when you left trying to make out that she hadn't just been intensely staring at the conversation you were having on the phone.

"oh no she doesn't look very happy-" lia whispered, you walking in a small frown on your face. as your shoulders were hanging low as you sighed sitting down in your original seat.

"oh- y/n i'm so sor—"

"I'M GOING TO THE EUROS BABY!" you cheered, your face changing in a split second from a frown to a big cheesy grin as the canteen when quiet for a minute as they all processed what you'd said.

the girls all jumped up hugging you and congratulating you as they told you how proud they were of you.

“what did sarina say?” beth asked as the celebrations calmed down and everyone had sat back down.

“she just said she’d seen how well i’ve been playing and she thinks i could be good option for a game changer at the euros” you said with the same smile, it not leaving your face and probably wouldn’t be for a long time.

leah sat listening to you as you recalled the phone call over to them, as she sat like a proud mother. "yes kiddo! switzerland won't know what has hit them!"

[formulawolff]

vii. the in-between - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 5.2k

warnings: buckle up y’all cause we go. angst, cursing, size kink, edging, praise kink, FUCKING, LOTS OF FUCKING. toto being a simp, banter, yearning, mentions of divorce, mentions of alcohol use, creampie, teasing, yadayadayada… y’all know what’s about to go down

prev. | next.

“it’s fine, mom. really.” 

bringing a hand to your temple, you begin to massage, attempting to alleviate the accumulated pressure. 

“i mean, yeah, i’m not in trouble or anything. as far as i know, the fia is letting me race in suzuka. it was my first offense so they dropped the investigation. as long as i publicly apologize for my actions, everything will be cleared up.” 

˖���‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

do you know how many people have asked me about you? baby, people approach me at the goddamn grocery store asking me why you beat up that poor little british boy! he’s built like a twig for god’s sake! 

rolling your eyes, you lean back in your chair, keeping the phone pressed against your ear, “mom, his name is george russell. he drives for mercedes. he’s not some little boy.” 

all right, all right. well maybe he needs to come over for some dinner or something. get some meat on those bones. anyway, did i tell you that your father has been scouring ebay trying to purchase sports cards with your car on it? well, he’s found ones with you on them too. he wants to make a booklet of his favorite kiddo. 

with that discovery, your heart swells, “is he really? tell him to look up topps chrome cards. those are the best ones. since i’m not as popular as max or lewis, they should be pretty cheap. and mom, i’m your only kiddo.” 

that’s why we’re so proud of you. even if you get into fist fights, we still love you bunches. when do you think you’ll come home? your dad wants to take you out in his baby. he’s made some modifications to it. he thinks you’ll appreciate it more than i will. 

“where is dad? is he asleep?” 

yes honey. he’s asleep. snoring away on the couch with the dogs. i wish we could give you a taste of home somehow. maybe i could have a care package sent to japan? 

“mom,” you exhale, “that would be so much money. don’t worry about it. were you guys considering flying out for miami?” 

oh yes, about that! you perk up in your chair, anticipating your mom’s response. we are going to be there. we can’t wait to see you. we miss you so much. it’s so quiet when you’re not home. will i be able to meet some of your coworkers? 

letting you a giggle, you shake your head, “mom. they’re my fellow drivers. we’re not coworkers. but yeah, i could probably introduce you to a few of them. daniel wants to meet you two.” 

what about that handsome fellow with the bright blue eyes? he drives for redbull! and yes, i would love to meet daniel. 

“max verstappen?” you arch a brow, “we’d have to see about that one. he’s a very busy man.” 

okay, okay. the line cuts out briefly. hey honey, i think i need to head to bed. i love you so much. keep in touch, okay? we’ll see you in a few short weeks. 

nibbling on your lower lip, you nod, “i love you too, mom. tell dad i love him. i miss you guys. i can’t wait to see you.” 

me either. goodnight honey, or good morning or afternoon or whatever time it is over there. i’ll text you when i wake up! love you. 

“love you,” your lip trembles, hands clamming up as you the line goes silent. 

fuck, were you homesick. 

you just had to make it a few more weeks. then, you could finally reunite with your parents in miami. although you knew you would be so fucking busy, you would make time. 

you always did when it came to your parents. 

also, you had another plan brewing as you scroll through your contact list, searching for a certain dutch assassin. a certain dutch man who happened to be a three-time world champion. 

somehow, someway, your mom was going to meet max verstappen. 

you had to make that happen. 

you had to. 

currently, you were sitting on the edge of a bed in a suite in london, anxiously awaiting the arrival of your driver. a decently-sized suitcase sat near the door, a carry-on stacked on top. 

this driver was provided specific instructions to transport you from london to brackley, dropping you off at the door of a certain team principal’s home. 

yet, you were well aware that it wasn’t going to be just any old home. 

this man was billionaire, after all. 

buzzing in your grasp, your phone notifies you of a new text. 

from none other than toto wolff. 

the driver is on the elevator, heading up towards your suite. DO NOT handle your bags. he will do that for you. i don’t want you to fuss over a single thing. from there, he will bring you here, where he will punch in the code for the gate. i will be waiting for you at the door. 

i can’t wait to see you, schatzi. i miss your beautiful face and sweet laughter. 

oh, and i can’t wait to kiss you. 

(and yes, i am pacing around in my office as i type this. i can’t focus on anything else but your arrival) 

with sazuka quickly approaching next week, you would only have a couple of days with the team principal before you had to part ways. he would have prep, meetings, press, where he would then fly out to sazuka. meanwhile, you would have to catch a flight, meet with your team, prep, and potentially meet with press, fans, and the other drivers. 

additionally, you had to address the incident that occurred last week at the australian grand prix. to your surprise, the fia had dismissed the investigation, finding no substantial evidence that the two of you needed to be punished. due to the nature of the accident, george was not punished, as he did no illegal maneuvers or intentionally attempted to take you out of the race. 

on the other hand, the fia was adamant that if this happened again, you were going to face consequences. you would have to shell out a pretty penny for fines, and then you would be immediately disqualified from three future races, deeming you unable to participate.

although they were merciful, the fia made it very clear that since it was your first offense, they were going to be fair.. 

however, if there was a next time, they would not be so kind. 

a crisp knock rang out, startling you. 

springing to your feet, you open the door, an older man smiling in greeting. 

“you must be golden girl,” sticking out his right hand, he dips his head, “i’m theodore. i’ll be your driver to brackley this evening. i am here to not only be your escort, but to tend to anything you may need. mr. wolff made it very clear that you were not to fret over a single thing.”

“good morning,” the corners of your lips curl into a quaint smile as you shake his hand, “thank you. i’m eager to see the english countryside.”

“i’ll handle your bags ma’am,” theodore clears his throat, “you just take it easy.”

“will do,” you nod, “how long is the drive?”

“about an hour and a half,” theodore responds curtly, slinging your carry-on around his shoulder, “don’t worry, it’s not too boring. follow me this way, my lady. our chariot awaits!”

following him down the hall, he presses the button for the elevator. there’s a silence between you, but not an uncomfortable one. theodore’s presence was warm, inviting even.

upon meeting him, you understood why he was toto’s right-hand driver. once he escorted you to the car, he opens the door for you, ushering you inside. when you settle into the backseat, you notice the glint of a redbull can, along with your favorite snacks and candy. 

“mr. wolff wanted to ensure you wouldn’t be hungry,” theodore states as he climbs into the driver’s seat, pressing the button for the ignition, “he told me that you can be a little cranky if you don’t have any snacks.”

“oh? he said that?” a giggle bubbles up in your throat, “did he say anything else about me?”

“oh yes,” theodore chuckles, turning the gear shift, “he’s told me all about you. to be quite frank, he hasn’t shut up about you the last week or so.”

“so you know who i am?”

“of course i do,” theodore nods, flashing you a grin in the rearview mirror, “you’re one of the best formula one drivers on the grid. you drive for williams racing. you’ve only won one grand prix, but i believe you’ll win a few more this season. your hometown is in yuma, arizona. you’re twenty-two years old, and from what toto has shared with me, you have a very bright future ahead.”

“are you a formula one fan?” you arch a brow, punching open the can of redbull. 

“who isn’t?” he shrugs, “well, ms. golden girl, we are going to begin our journey. if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to speak up. if you’d like, you can tell me a little bit more about yourself. we will have plenty of time.”

as theodore promised, the drive to brackley was painless. yet, as the car pulls up to the gate, your heart skips a beat.

this was no quaint english cottage.

toto’s brackley residence was a sleek and sprawling two-story home, a black and white exterior with massive, thick windows. your jaw almost drops, and theodore notices, letting out a hearty laugh, “don’t act so shocked, golden girl. i’m sure you’re aware toto is a very wealthy man.”

“i thought he would have kept things somewhat simple.”

“oh love,” theodore shakes his head, “you and i both know that toto is anything but simple.”

rolling down the window, theodore punches in a code, the gate sliding open. as the car lurches up the drive, your heart thumps in your rib-cage, blood roaring in your ears. 

this was really happening. 

you were really staying with toto. 

“nervous?” theodore senses the shift in energy, “you have no reason to be nervous. he’s been anticipating your arrival. he’ll be happy to see you.”

“thank you,” you manage to muster a meek smile, “i-i just didn’t think we would get this far.”

“well savor the time together. time flies, especially in our world. one day you’re at a track, the next you’re in another country. he adores you, golden girl. so don’t you fret about that. just relax, and enjoy your time. i will be here in a couple of days to bring you to the airport for your departure to sazuka.” 

“thank you,” at his words, you can’t help but let out a sigh of relief, “i look forward to our next drive together!”

“as do i,” shifting the gears, theodore puts the car in park, slipping out of the driver’s seat, “we have arrived. let me get your bags.”

he strolls over to your door, opening it as you clamber out, stretching your sore legs.

no matter how much time you spent in a car, there was always that persisting stiffness. 

you’d probably need a double-knee replacement by the time you were forty, but that was the least of your worries. 

out of the corner of your eye, you notice a figure strolling towards the car. with the large stature, you knew it could only be one particular individual. 

he’s dressed in a royal blue button-up, paired with khaki slacks. on his feet are earth-toned dress shoes. the blue hue of the button-up complements his dark hair, almost brightening his features, giving them a youthful glow. tufts of his hair are all over as the wind blows. 

yet, he looks as gorgeous as ever, his toned muscles rippling under the thin fabric of the button-up. 

“welcome to brackley schatzi,” the grin enveloping his face is radiant, “i hope the drive wasn’t too bad.”

“not at all,” you shake your head, the team principal nearly sucking the wind out of your lungs as he wraps his arms around you, squishing you against his chest. 

“i missed you so much,” tender lips connect with your cheek, “good afternoon, theo! did she behave herself?”

“of course,” theodore promptly places your bag next to the entrance, suitcase in tow, “i have another commitment here soon, mr. wolff. i hope it is all right i placed her bags next to the door?” 

“don’t worry about it,” toto’s fingers find yours, intertwining them together, “i’ll get them. please drive safe, theo.”

“i will, mr. wolff,” theodore dips his head, turning to you, he takes your hand, shaking it, “it was lovely to meet you. i look forward to our next meeting, golden girl. enjoy your time together, you two!”

“we will,” toto squeezes your hand, “goodbye, theo.”

“goodbye, mr. wolff!” theodore spins on his heel, making his way to the car, “behave, you two!”

in response, toto gives a thumbs up, theodore slipping back into the driver’s seat. as he peels off, toto shifts his body, facing you.

“charming, isn’t he?”

“he’s great! kept me entertained the whole drive!”

“i told him you have a short attention span so to keep you occupied,” toto shooks you a wink, earning an eye roll. 

“i can’t stand you.”

“you’re standing right now, aren’t you?” his chuckle is light, “come, let’s head on in. i have lunch waiting for us.”

“you made me lunch?” 

“yes, i’m going to drive you all the way out here just so starve you,” he scoffs, yet his tone says otherwise, “i have food ready. and wine, if you want some.”

“don’t tell me you want to get me drunk so i’ll confess all my secrets.”

“consider that my new goal for the afternoon,” toto grabs your bag, along with your suitcase. pushing open the door, he clears his throat, “welcome to my home away from home.”

as you step in the entrance, your eyes widen, lips parting.  

the space was truly a reflection of toto. refined and elegant, with a hints of charm. the marble floors gleam under the soft lighting, rays of sun shining through the vast windows. the walls were covered in a menagerie of decor, from pieces of art to mercedes memorabilia. it was not the typical billionaire’s home, where the air felt sterile and cold. 

this place was warm and full of life, coaxing you to stay. 

“cat got your tongue?” his breath fans against your ear, a hand gliding along your back, “follow me, schatzi.”

“your home is beautiful.”

glancing over his shoulder, you are met with his gorgeous smile, dimples and all, “thank you, love. i’m glad you like it.”

trailing behind the austrian, you stroll down a long hallway, turning into the last room on the left. toto places your bag and suitcase next to a glass door, “this is my bedroom. you’ll be staying here with me.”

“straight to the bedroom huh?” you fold your arms across your chest, teasing, “you just couldn’t wait–”

“come here,” toto growls, hands grasping your wrists, bringing you in, “no, i can’t wait.”

looking up, you match his gaze, cocking your head, “what are you going to do about it?”

at your rebuttal, toto’s eyes narrow, “what do you think i’m going to do?”

“fuck me.”

“hmmmm,” he hums, leaning in, “you’re right, schatzi. i am going to fuck you. i’m going to fuck you till you’re weeping me for me to stop.”

“weeping?” your hands roam, tugging on his button-up, “i’d like to see you try.”

“oh schatzi,” he tsks, “you don’t know what you’re in for.”

“show me then.”

“i will,” lips ghost over yours, “i’ll show you how badly i missed you baby.”

as he kisses you, it’s tender at first, brimmed with the sweetness of reunion. one of his hands wraps around the base of your neck, tilting your head back as his tongue gains access to your mouth, the tang of redbull tracing your mouth. yet, as you whimper, a fiery hunger sets ablaze.

fuck, he missed you. 

he missed you more than he liked to admit.

tension hangs thick, clouding the space as his mouth places sloppy, wet kisses down your jawline, finding your neck. nipping gently, it takes every fiber in his being to resist the urge to just mark you all over. to leave marks where they could see. to make them wonder who was doing this to you.

but he couldn’t. not there. 

in response, your hips buck forward, grinding against his. toto groans, his head rolling back. 

there was not a single coherent thought in his mind. 

only lust. and fuck, was it consuming him whole. 

scooping you into his arms, he brings you over to the bed, your back meeting with the plush mattress. 

“i can’t wait,” he pants, chest heaving, “i can’t wait any longer. i need you.”

“then take me,” your words drip like honey, oh so sweet, “make me yours, toto.”

jesus fucking christ.

he was going to fuck the shit out of you. right here, right now.

there was no going back. 

he ached for it. he yearned for it. the fantasy flooded his dreams at night.

the things he wanted to do to you? 

downright filthy. sinful, even 

he couldn’t lose his inhibitions. not yet. he had to hang on. 

however, at this point, toto was hanging on by a thread. 

peeling your leggings and panties off, he tosses them to the floor, “sit up.”

you obey, nearly trembling with anticipation as fingertips hook the hem of your crewneck, pulling it over your head. nimbly, he hovers over you, finding the clasps of your bra. he undoes them, a crimson hue dusting his cheeks as he takes in the sight of you completely naked beneath him. 

god, you were absolutely breathtaking. 

every inch of you was stunning. every scar. every mole. every freckle. every stretch mark. 

you were so fucking beautiful. 

his hands fly to his button-up, eager for what was to come. 

yet, your hands find his, “let me.”

toto bites his tongue as you carefully undo the buttons of his shirt, his cock twitching, aching for your touch as your fingers delve towards his belt. you unbuckle it, tilting your head back, batting your thick lashes.

fuck. fuck. fuck. 

could this moment last forever? 

“toto.”

“yes?”

“i-i don’t know if i can take it all,” there’s apprehension inflected in your tone, almost as if you were embarrassed, “to be honest, i’ve never–”

oh god. 

this was going to ruin him.

just like he was going to ruin you.

“don’t worry,” a tender hand cups your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing your cheekbone, “i’ll go slow. i won’t make you take it all. i’ll take care of you baby, i promise.”

you nod, lips pursed as you tug on his slacks, hooking the hem of his boxers, “you’re just so fucking big. like holy shit.”

pride swells within the austrian for a moment, a chuckle rumbling in his chest, “i promise you that it’s not as big as you think.”

“can i see for myself?” the question is so innocent, so pure. 

yeah, he was going to ruin you.

he was going to make a mess out of you. 

“lay down schatzi,” he orders, authority oozing into the words. 

kicking off his slacks, he curses slightly as his boxers stick around one of his ankles. this wasn’t going to be perfect, but he wanted it to be. for you. 

he wanted this to be a moment you remembered for the rest of your life. he wanted this memory to fill your thoughts every second of every day. he wanted you to touch yourself to this, desperate and oh so wet, throbbing for him. yearning for his mouth. for his touch. for him.

carefully, he climbs onto the bed, hovering over you. as you look down, you can feel his gaze searing into you, burning right through. 

his cock was far bigger than your fantasies. it was thick, approximately eight or nine inches. you couldn’t tell. his tip was tinged pink, the glisten of precum catching in the light. veins wrapped around the length, throbbing as your hand wrapped around its base.

“fuck,” as he moans, you lick your lips, realizing how much you loved the sound that just filled your ears, “let me feel you, please.”

“please toto.”

swallowing thickly, he inhales sharply as he positions his tip at your entrance. applying pressure, a whimper rings out as he pushes in, your walls stretching. 

your pussy was heaven. absolutely perfect as it wrapped around his cock, begging for more as he pushed further and further. you were absolutely drenched, the juices slick and oh so sickeningly sweet. he didn’t even have to taste you to know. he just knew you were sweet. like pure ambrosia. 

perhaps he could get a taste.

“toto,” your lashes flutter, his name so perfect from your lips, “you feel–”

“your pussy is perfect,” he finds a steady rhythm, pumping in and out of your tight hole, “absolutely perfect baby. fuck, you’re perfect.”

skin connects with skin, the temperature of the room elevated as his hands found yours, pinning them to the bed. lips collide, the kisses desperate, hungry and bursting with need. as he picks up the pace, moans fill his mouth. 

fuck, it felt like he was going to split you into two. 

“t-toto,” there it was again, his name. music to his ears.

“yes baby?” a sheen of sweat clings to his forehead, tufts of hair dampened, “what is it? does it hurt? do you need me to slow down?”

“no. fuck me. just fuck me.”

oh god. 

oh, fuck. 

his cock twitches, the pleasure building in your abdomen as the tip brushes your g-spot, back arching, begging to be closer. closer to him.

could you be any closer to him in this moment? was it even possible?

before you know it, his arms wrap around your frame, picking you up off the mattress. he holds you close to his chest, one hand holding your head, cupping the back of your skull. the other remains on your lower back, gripping you tightly as the new angle sends bliss rippling all throughout your body.

he fucks you, and god there was no holding back. his cock was pounding into you now, showing no mercy. your ass slaps against his thighs, filthy noises flooding the space. 

as you bounce, you tense, your walls practically squeezing him, “toto, oh my god, i’m going–”

“good girl,” his coos, “be a good girl, baby. cum for me.”

as you get closer and closer, toto watches. fuck, the way your lips were parted ever so slightly. the way hairs clung to your forehead. the way your lashes fluttered. all he could see was pleasure. pure, intense pleasure. 

you unravel, coming undone. 

that sight alone was enough to make him cum.

“come here,” toto hisses through gritted teeth, “come here baby.”

the moment his lips mold with yours, you feel his cock throb, pumping threads of cum into your weeping hole. your muscles spasm, shuddering as he pulls out. 

the two of you study one another for a moment, catching your breath. fingertips brush stray hairs from your temple. 

“i’m sorry.”

“for?” you nuzzle into his collarbone, relishing the way his cologne lingered, mixing with his natural scent. 

“going too far.”

“that was not too far.”

tenderly, the austrian pulls you down with him, letting out a sigh as his head hits the pillow. your head remains against his chest, admiring the definition and tone for a moment. he peppers kisses along your forehead, browbone, and cheeks. 

“if i ever go too far, let me know.”

“i think we’re both in too deep,” you murmur, “you’re lucky you had the blinds drawn.” 

“that would be something,” his chest vibrates as he speaks, “could you imagine? some random mercedes intern witnessing the team principal fucking the most beautiful woman on the planet?”

however, a gleam catches your eye.

on his left ring finger, your heart sinks as you notice the ring. 

his wedding band.

toto senses your silence, the way you tensed up against him, “what is it schatzi?”

“why are you still wearing your wedding band?”

oh, so you had noticed.

“it’s complicated.”

“complicated?” your voice falters as you prop yourself up with your elbow so you could meet his gaze, “you’re wearing your fucking wedding ring. it’s not that complicated.”

“yes, i am, wearing my ring,” he exhales, “would you prefer me to take it off? it has no meaning anymore. susie and i are divorced. we finalized it last december. when we signed the papers, we made a mutual agreement to wear our wedding bands when we were in the public eye. it keeps the speculations at bay. it’s mostly for the sake of my children. and for her sake. we respect one another and i would hate for her hard work to be diminished by rumors and gossip.”

although his words were sincere, your heart races still, anxiety a swirling torrent in your stomach, “how long have you been separated?”

“almost three years. we separated in july of 2021.” 

“oh,” you suck in a breath, shame washing over you, “i-i’m sorry for the sudden questions. i just–”

“it would complicate your feelings for me. and no one wants too mess around with a married man. i get it baby, i really do.”

although he provided a very base-level explanation of his failed marriage, toto was more than willing to go into more depth. that is, if you wanted. more than anything, he wanted you to know. that aspect was becoming increasingly frustrating, as the team principal tried to maintain that dominant, bold, persona.

you were making him weak. his little soft spot. 

well, not so little these days. 

“i cannot stand how well you read me,” rolling your eyes, you turn your back to him.

“don’t turn your back on me now,” he tsks, “do you believe me, schatzi?”

“i don’t think you could ever lie to me.”

“i couldn’t,” toto leans over, placing soft kisses all over your shoulders, “i think it would destroy me. the guilt would be too much to bear.”

“if we’re spilling secrets now,” you roll over, face-to-face once again, “i have another question for you.”

“all right.”

“why did you approach james about my contract behind my back?” 

for once, the team principal is caught by surprise, his heart skipping a beat. 

the hurt plastered across your features is clear, your brows furrowed, eyes narrowed. there’s a glimmer of anguish in their depths, slightly glossy from the threat of tears. 

“i wanted to gauge how he felt if you were to leave williams,” that was the truth, really, no other intentions behind it, “he was not too keen to discuss it, but i just wanted to know how upset he would be if you were to sign with another team. i did it for you, to soften the blow.”

“soften the blow?”

“yes,” toto nods, “to soften the blow when you tell him you’re leaving williams and signing with mercedes.”

“you don’t know that for–”

“but i do,” his voice hardens, “i do know. we can’t just lay here and deny that in your heart, you want to be with me at mercedes. you’ve made the decision already. you just haven’t figured out how you’re going to approach james, alex, or your team.”

biting your tongue, you turn your head, averting his gaze.

toto was right. you had made your decision. 

it was just a matter of time before you had to face the facts. 

“i’m right, aren’t i?” 

“you are,” you huff, squeezing your eyes shut, “i-i just don’t know how to tell everyone. i don’t know how to tell my parents. i don’t know how to bring it up to james. it’s just so.. fuck. it’s so fucking overwhelming to think about.”

“then let me help you.”

“how?” you inquire, “how would you possibly do that?”

“i’ll keep my distance from here on out, but i will help you draft up a letter that you can give to james. or, i can help you practice what you’re going to say. just let me help you schatzi,” fingers grasp your chin, turning your head. 

“you hear me? i’ll help you.”

“can we just worry about it later?” 

“of course,” strong arms envelop your frame, drawing you in against his body, “for now, we can snuggle. would you like that?”

“i would.”

your tough exterior completely crumbles as his mouth hovers by your ear, murmuring words in german. desperately, you ache to know what he said. was it something important? or just sweet nothings? 

sometimes he was a difficult man to decipher.

“hey, have you opened that gift yet? the one i brought to you in jeddah?”

“no,” you admit, heat billowing into your cheeks, “i have a hard time accepting gifts.”

“clearly.”

before you can respond, he’s up from the bed, strolling over to your bags. unzipping your carry-on, he searches for that parcel. fishing it out of your bag, he sets in on the bed, sliding on his boxers before plopping it in front of you.

“open it. right now.”

“right now?” you echo, “toto, i–”

“open it.”

“fine,” nimbly, your fingers untie the bow, peeling away the wrapper. 

underneath the paper, there is a tiny velvet box. it’s long and slender, rectangular in shape.

“what is this?”

“open it and you’ll know,” toto urges, following your every move, anticipating your reaction.

opening the box, your heart swells at the sight before you.

it’s a bracelet, a dainty figaro chain, complete with a charm. the charm is an outline of the saudi arabian track. picking it up, you inspect it, noticing a date engraved on the backside of the charm. 

“how were you able to get this so quickly after the race?” 

“i have my ways,” toto bears a sheepish grin, “do you like it?”

“like it? i love it.”

well, you didn’t love it. you fucking adored it. it was perfect, and so you. it was something that you could wear everyday, a constant reminder of the years of effort to get you here. not to mention it was gorgeous, the chain shiny, freshly polished. 

a hand reaches out, plucking the chain from the box. his brows are knit together with concentration as he slips the chain around your wrist, ensuring it’s safely clasped.

“i figured it would be something you could always wear. a reminder of when you made history.”

“it’s beautiful,” sitting up, you shift your weight to your knees as you wrap your arms around his neck, “thank you, toto.”

“always, schatzi. don’t worry, i will always spoil you.”

as toto nuzzles into the crook of your neck, he was well aware of one thing.

you had made your decision. 

you hadn’t outright said it, but he knew you made your decision. 

you would be signing to mercedes for the 2025 season. 

you were finally going to be by his side every day. 

there was no more in-between. no more will she or won’t she. no more nights of him lying awake, wondering where you stood. no more driving himself insane pondering all of the possibilities that could unravel. 

he had you. 

you were all his now. 

and god, did that leave such a sweet taste in his mouth. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

taglist: @joalslibrary @martwll @prettiest-at-the-party @pucksandpower @kravitzwhore @toldyouitwasamelodrama @annewithaneofthegreengable @persona1lies @zoeyjadetice2010 @whoisss @sinners-98-world

if i missed anyone, please let me know! also, you are more than welcome to be added to the taglist! thank you for reading! <3

[starryjkoo]

"the best trips i've had in my life"

I’m still stuck on Jungkook saying that the AYS trips were the best of his life? That’s actually a crazy thing to say when you look back on those trips and where they went and what exactly they did. Hearing “best trip of your life” you would expect something more grand, but for Jungkook it really was just hanging out with Jimin, doing pretty mundane activities and eating a lot of delicious food. Somehow these trips were impactful enough that he felt they were the best of his life? That’s crazy to me.  

Sapporo was beautiful, but Connecticut was… Connecticut lol, it’s pretty but not that interesting compared to other places they’ve traveled and Jeju is somewhere they’ve both already been plenty of times. The accommodations in Sapporo were especially nice, but CT was a camping van and the house from my suburban nightmares. The Jeju house was gorgeous but not anything particularly new for them either. 

The activities? They definitely did a lot of fun things, but most of them were things they had already done before, some of them even on other seasons of BV or with other members, friends, and on “private” vacations. A lot of the trips were actually filled with pretty mundane activities. Jimin even said in Sapporo that was just how he usually spends his time at home. It gave them an excuse to eat lots of delicious food, but that's hardly the only time they’ve done that either.

And yes, obviously they would enjoy these trips because they basically planned them. But that’s another thing, how compatible Jikook are and how well they click because not everyone would enjoy this kind of trip. Even TH questioned why he came at first because they already do all that in Seoul anyways, or how he went off to play golf one morning. So obviously Jikook were going to enjoy AYS, but I still never thought that these trips would end up being the best of JK’s life? Eating, taking drives and playing around with Jimin really topped every other trip he’s ever been on? 

The Jimin part is important because while some of the activities like snowboarding were fun on their own, what made the little things entertaining was how Jikook could take any simple activity and make it so silly and fun. I especially loved things like Jikook shining their bedside lamps at each other and how delighted JK was with that game, how happy he was when JM started playing along with him. Playing cards or having dinner with someone or playing in a pool, shining your bedside lamp at them or taking a drive wouldn’t be fun if you weren’t with someone who made those kinds of things fun and dynamic, if they couldn’t match your humor and energy. In fact some of those things could be pretty boring or tedious with the wrong person. 

There’s so many delightful examples of Jikook being adorably silly while doing these simple things like the mock cooking show in Sapporo, the way they made that scuzzi jacuzzi so fun with the snow, or Jikook coming up with the pool slap game and being so proud they showed it to TH and taught it to him the next day. You could list off so many examples like this and it’s just one of my very favorite things about AYS and Jikook’s friendship in general. I mean, the amount of mileage they can get out of a tiny pool or some bedside lamps is really crazy. JK talked about how they would be copies of each other if they were the same age and it really shows in AYS.

But what I also think really encapsulates Jikook’s bond is that even when things went wrong, such as in CT, they still had a ridiculous amount of fun and considered it a good trip. The cursed hamburger, Walmart, Jimin’s stomach virus, getting eaten up by mosquitos, getting nailed with rain that felt like hail, JK having a cold, JM getting burned by the motorcycle and then stepped on, JK falling into the river, elbowing JM in the face, JMs nose being bruised half the trip, having a fever, honestly just annoying the hell out of each other lol. But they loved that trip! JK wanted to do twelve more seasons after, they started planning Jeju and future trips before CT was even over, (they signed up to enlist together right after this!), JK recounted the trip to Yoongi with the biggest smile on his face. They enjoyed watching that first episode so much and laughed so hard at moments I didn’t even think were that funny (to be fair they were a little drunk there lmao).  

So, even when things went wrong they still enjoyed their trip immensely because they have the kind of relationship where they can take something bad and bond over the experience, turn it into something positive and memorable, create inside jokes that'll probably last forever. They also never truly got annoyed or stressed out at each other either despite both being sick or tired. You have to be so close and get along with someone so well to be able to do that?

So despite JK going to Jeju & Busan with his 97 liner friends, despite allegedly going to Japan with Eunwoo, despite already going snowboarding with TH and WS, despite any other trips or breaks or BV seasons over the years, despite CT being a mess, Jeju being somewhere they’ve both already been, none of the activities being that new or particularly exciting for them, despite being “company content”, in that moment JK felt so strongly and so positively and so fondly about his AYS experience that they felt like the best trips of his life. You don’t even need JKs words to know that, it was clear by the constant smiles and laughter throughout the show how much he loved it. And what made those trips so fun and impactful was clearly that they were together. That’s just amazing to me? To have someone you get along with so well, someone you have so much fun with and enjoy being around that much? 

I do think these trips offering a break from his insane schedule made them more impactful and meaningful to Jungkook too. You could tell how exhausted he was working nonstop during his solo schedules. Jimin even said in CT he was glad he came because otherwise JK wouldn’t have gotten to do all of those things. It’s funny that solos & tkkrs tried to make it seem like these trips were just piling onto JK’s busy schedule when in fact they seemed to offer him a much needed break to relax and do something fun instead. So the timing of these trips probably did add to why JK loved them so much.

I also think that JK felt so strongly about it specifically in that moment because Sapporo was a pretty emotional trip for them too. Based on JKs words they were also using the trip to make memories to look back on during enlistment, probably also wanted to have one more enjoyable experience before they would have to go away for eighteen months. I think that played a part in this trip feeling more special and sentimental than it ordinarily would have. I thought it was especially sweet how when they were both feeling particularly emotional/melancholy on the train ride they shared that moment together and took comfort in each other. Jimin said that he didn’t think he would have felt excited about the snow in SK, but in Sapporo he loved it so much. And JK saying that he wanted to return to Japan because it was the location of their first trip was terribly sweet. It was a really nice and poignant way to end AYS, because those trips and Sapporo in particular did have a lot of meaning for them, clearly. They truly loved AYS so much.

I have so many other thoughts and feelings about AYS I’d like to unpack eventually but really I think what encapsulates my feelings on AYS is just JK saying that these were the best trips of his life. I guess this is just my really long winded way of saying how special I think Jikook’s bond is. You can’t really argue that JK enjoyed AYS as much as he did for any reason other than that he was with Jimin. Even if JK simply enjoyed getting to take a relaxing trip during his busy schedule, what made a lot of the small things so fun was Jikook’s unique dynamic. That trip wouldn’t have been possible with someone else because quite simply it wouldn't have been the same trip. It had to be Jikook for AYS to be so incredibly relaxing but also have the right amount of activity, eating, and playing, for the simple things to be that enjoyable, the food so prominent, the shared dorky sense of humor, the few moments of softness and vulnerability, the comfortable vibe between them.

I’ve never seen JK yap that much in BTS content either, you can tell how comfortable he is with Jimin in particular and how easy and familiar their dynamic is too. I’ve never honestly seen them that relaxed and stripped back in BTS content before, which was part of the reason I enjoyed AYS so much. I felt like I got to genuinely know them better and I really loved that. They could have made the show more dynamic and entertaining by packing it full of activities or other people, but it seems like the main focus was just doing the things they enjoy doing together and having their ideal vacation, which I massively preferred.

I also thought it was really meaningful that they did their little AYS thing right before they enlisted together. They just really enjoyed that show so much, they really bonded over creating it, had so much fun coming up with the title and the little details, and clearly felt so much genuine fondness for it. For them to end their CH2 with AYS was really meaningful, because that’s literally how they closed out the whole CH2 “solo” era, with something they created together. Just the fact that they were even thinking about AYS in that moment shows how impactful it was for them. Jikook closed out their CH2 together while at the same time entering the next chapter of their lives together too. They just make my heart so warm for real. I really loved AYS so much and I’m so glad that Jikook loved it just as much as we did if not more.

ending this with my favorite Jikook edit ❤️‍🩹

[writingwithciara]

Missed Goal ~Quinn Hughes~

summary: after the devils beat the canucks, quinn returns to his apartment, where his roommate has a plan to cheer him up

word count: 2.3k

pairing: quinn hughes x roommate!reader

notes: I feel so bad that quinn didn’t score a goal in the game against his brothers. Like my heart physically hurts just thinking about. My poor baby ☹ Anyways, I think there’s a touch of anxiety speak closer to the end but that’s pretty much it for triggers/warnings

masterlist

“Are you sure you can’t come to the game tonight?” Quinn asked his roommate as he rushed around their apartment, grabbing his gear. He looked up at her and waited for a response.

“I really wish I could but I have to work tonight. Sorry, Quinn.” y/n looked at her roommate and smiled. “But I will be watching from here and I’ll be cheering for you. You’re going to do amazing tonight.”

“I really appreciate that. Thanks.” He looked at his bag and then back up to y/n. “It’s not going to be the same without you there, but at least I know you’ll be cheering for me here.”

“I’d cheer for you anywhere. And that’s a promise.” y/n smiled and walked over to him, extending her pinky. He wrapped his pinky around hers and placed a kiss on it. It was a simple gesture. One they did before every single game.

“When I get home tonight, we can celebrate. Win or lose.”

“You’re going to win, Quinn.” y/n smiled at her best friend. “You may be playing against both of your brothers and they may be great but you’re better. You got this, Hughes. Now go and dominate those Devils.”

“Thank you for being you.” He grabbed his bag and walked out the door. Y/n went to her computer and began doing her work tasks.

A few hours later, she turned the game on and abandoned her work to cheer for Quinn. When Jack scored during the first period, she cheered. She wanted to be happy for the boys but whenever something good happened, it was never Quinn. Jack scored, Luke scored and it seemed like every other player got a goal except Quinn. He did get an assist but that didn’t make y/n happy. Instead, she felt extremely bad for him.

Every time the camera would cut to him, he would look defeated and that broke y/n’s heart. It was bad enough he always felt somewhat inferior to his brothers when it came to hockey, but for the commentators (and even some fans) to constantly point that out, was a little upsetting. She knew he would be upset when he got back home so she decided she would make him feel better.

She ordered his favorite food, knowing he’d be hungry when he got back, and she set out some relaxation options for him to choose from. All of his favorite ways to wind down after a game. As she admired her work, she hadn’t realized how long it actually took to set it up until the front door opened and she heard the keys hit the table.

“Hey. I’m home.”

Y/n walked out of Quinn’s room and when she saw him, her heart felt like it was barely hanging together. His hair was a mess and it was hard to tell but it looked like he got dressed in a hurry and that his shirt was inside out.

“Hey.” y/n stepped closer to him as he ran his hands through his hair for what was probably the millionth time since the game ended an hour ago. “I saw the game.”

“I was kind of hoping you didn’t.” he chuckled lightly.

“And why is that?”

“I didn’t want you to see how much I messed up tonight. I don’t ever want to disappoint you or make you regret cheering for me.” He sighed and collapsed on the couch. Y/n sat next to him and pushed him to continue. “I feel like I should be playing better this year but I’m not. And maybe that’s because I know Luke and Jack are better players and it’s terrifying.”

“Quinn, you didn’t mess up tonight. And even if you did, I would still be proud of you.” She looked at him and smiled kindly. It was the smile that always brought him back when he got lost in his own head. “Jack and Luke may be good players, but they only got that way from watching you do what you do. You’re an amazing player and an even better big brother.” She looked at him again and noticed he was focused on her words. She also noticed how hard he was trying to hold all his emotions in. “I ordered from your favorite restaurant so let’s eat and once you’ve got a little bit of energy back, we can talk, okay?”

“Oh, you’re the best.” Quinn smiled a little as he reached for the takeout containers. As they ate, the faint sound of the tv playing in the background seemed to relax Quinn a little bit but  y/n could tell he was still stressed. When he finished, Quinn put the empty container on the table and looked over at the girl sitting next to him. “Have I ever told you much I appreciate you? Because it’s really true.”

“You have told me a few times before but really, it’s the least I could do. I mean, you’re allowing me to live with you for pretty much free so being the best roommate I can be is what I’m doing in return.”

“You know, I honestly thank god for bringing you into my life.” Quinn admitted.

“You should thank Jack because if he hadn’t come up to me at the beach that one time when we were 8 years old, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Well, either way, I’m beyond grateful that you’re here and that you’ve been here for so long.”

“Awe, Quinn. You’re gonna make me cry.” y/n smiled and touched his arm gently. The action made him get a little nervous suddenly. When she removed her hand, he felt heat where it had been. Suddenly, everything felt different. The atmosphere became warm and intense but Quinn couldn’t quite put his finger on it. “So, anyway, I have some options to help you relax. Go in your room and pick out whatever it is you want and I’ll make it happen.”

Quinn got up and quickly walked to his room. As he looked at each options carefully, he thought about everything y/n has ever done for him. She has put him first in every possible situation and she’s always there when he feels the weight of the world on his shoulders. She knows exactly what’s going on in his mind at all times. They’re connected in a way that is unexplainable. She is the only one he knows he can come to when he’s feeling the stress and pressure of his career and he knows that she can easily lift all the worries away, even with a simple smile. Suddenly, it clicked. He was falling in love with her.

He picked up the bath stuff and walked back out to the living room, where y/n was busy cleaning up.

“So, how will you be relaxing tonight, Quinn?”

“I’m gonna take a nice hot bubble bath and think about some things.” He smiled and headed towards the bathroom. “Thank you.”

While he did his thing in the bathroom, y/n figured she would set up a mini movie night for after his bath. She popped some popcorn, set out some other snacks and put out a few drinks. She even queued up one of his favorite movie. Monster’s Inc. She knew he would enjoy something light-hearted and fun to finish off the night.

After nearly an hour of Quinn being in the bath, y/n started to get worried. She walked over to the bathroom door and knocked lightly.

“Quinn, you alright in there?”

“Yeah. I’m doing alright.” He chuckled from behind her. She turned around and Quinn was walking out of his bedroom and was in the middle of putting his shirt on. Y/n found herself staring at his body and the way his muscles flexed as the shirt went over his head and over his torso.

“I, um, got a movie all set up and ready for you to enjoy. I know how you like your alone time so I’ll just be in my room, finishing up something for work.”

“No. I want you to enjoy the movie with me. I had plenty of alone time in the car on the way to and from the game, plus that time in the bathroom. I think after the night I’ve had I would really love the company. Especially if it’s your company.” He mentally cringed at the last comment but when he looked at y/n, she was sporting a big smile.

“Well, in that case, I would be honored to be your movie buddy tonight.” She guided him back to the living room and started the movie.

About halfway through the movie, y/n glanced over at Quinn and he looked like he was lost in his head again. She paused the movie and softly placed her hand on the back of his neck, gently playing with the hair that was there. He closed his eyes and thought about the calmness her touch brought him.

“What’s on your mind, Cap?”

“Be honest with me, alright?” he looked at her and when she nodded silently, he closed his eyes and continued to speak. “Am I actually a good player? Or do people just like me because of my brothers? Is Jack a better hockey player than I am? Is Luke?”

“In my honest opinion, I think people love you because you’re incredibly good at what you do, not because of your brothers. You have a kind heart and I love getting able to see that loving side of you every day. People might like Jack better because he’s good looking and they might like Luke better because he’s just adorable. But you wanna know what I think? I think you’re one of the best damn players the NHL has ever had. You’re not a perfect player, but nobody is. Not only that, but you are kind, funny, smart, loving, caring and just perfect in pretty much every sense of the word, Quinn. Some people may not like you, but who cares? You have so many more fans than anyone can count. And your biggest fan? Well she’s sitting on the couch with you, reassuring you that you have no reason to worry. She ditched her work responsibilities to watch you play against your brothers and her heart broke whenever the camera showed that you were upset. She is your biggest cheerleader and wants you to know that she would never favor your brothers over you. Your biggest fan loves you a lot, Quinn. More than you could ever know.” y/n moved her hand from the back of his neck to his arm. He looked at her to search her eyes for any sign that she was lying but he couldn’t find any.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Always.”

“I love you.” He looked at his hands nervously. He had never told a girl he loved her before and now here he was, spilling his soul to his best friend. It made him worry that she would reject the idea. But when she began to run her hand up and down his arm, he felt better about his confession. “And I want you to know that I have never said those words to a girl before so this is new for me.” He took the chance to look at her and when he saw her smile, he knew he needed to get everything out. “I’m not sure when I started feeling this way but I honestly think the feeling has always been lingering in my heart. You have always been by my side and even though Jack is the reason we met, I love that you always preferred me over him. You are the one person in my life who has never loved my brothers more than me, and I love you even more for it. I love you and everything about you, y/n. You make me feel so much better, even on the gloomiest days. The ones where I don’t want to talk to anyone and stay in my room.  Those are my favorite days because even though I say I don’t want to talk to anybody, you always find a way around that and you cheer me up with absolutely no effort. And living here with you these last few years, watching the amount of guys that would stay for a night and be gone by morning, killed me. I didn’t know why at the time, but now I’m sure of it. Y/n, I’m really in love with you.”

Y/n didn’t say a word. Instead, she grinned and moved to straddle his lap. She didn’t break eye contact once. “I’m in love with you too, Hughes.”

And with that being said, their lips met in the middle and fit together perfectly. With each passing second, the intensity behind the kiss kept on growing. Years of feelings being poured out into one simple action. When y/n’s lips parted, Quinn took the opportunity to slip his tongue in, eliciting a small moan from the girl on his lap. He placed his hands on her back and pulled her closer as the kiss deepened. His large hands found their way under her shirt and rested on her waist while hers were tangled in his now extremely messy hair.

“Is it bad that all I wanna do is stay in this position for the rest of my life?” Quinn asked when they finally took a moment to breathe.

“Well, I’m not going anywhere.” y/n pulled him in for another intensely passionate kiss.

All 3 of the Hughes brothers ended up scoring that night.

-----

taglist: @worldlxvlys @jackquinnswife

[antinousletmehit]

I've been you're works and I LOVEEE it

I'd like to req Antinous x Princess!Reader fic I was thinking the reader could be Odysseus’ daughter, and when Odysseus comes back to Ithaca to kill the suitors. When he’s about to kill Antinous, the reader steps in to protect him because she has feelings for him. You can decide whether Antinous survives or not, I’m good with either! I just think it would make for such a dramatic and emotional story.

ヾ(´︶`♡)ﾉ

( feel free to ignore it! Thank you so much for taking the time to read this anyway.)

ꉂ(ˊᗜˋ*)♡

The grand hall of Odysseus’s palace reeked of death. Bodies of suitors lay scattered across the once ivory floor, their spilled blood soaking into the stone. The air was thick with the coppery scent of slaughter, and the cries of the dying echoed off the walls. Odysseus stood at the center, his bow gripped tightly in his hand, his face a mask of unrelenting fury. Beside him stood Telemachus, equally resolute, the blade of his sword slick with blood.

All that remained was Antinous.

He knelt at the far end of the hall, his proud face now pale with fear and smeared with dirt and blood. He clutched his side where a glancing blow had torn through his tunic, but his eyes burned with defiance even as his body betrayed his fear. Odysseus’s eyes narrowed, and he raised his bow.

“Father, wait!”

The desperate cry cut through the blood soaked air, halting Odysseus mid draw. From the shadows of the corridor, his daughter burst into the room, her face pale and tear streaked. She ran to stand between her father and the suitor, her arms spread wide as if to shield Antinous from the arrow aimed at his heart.

“Move aside, child,” Odysseus commanded, his voice cold and sharp. “He is the worst of them. He dies today.”

“No!” she cried, her voice trembling but firm. “You can’t! Please, Father, I beg you—don’t kill him!”

Odysseus’s brow furrowed, confusion momentarily softening the hard lines of his face. “Why would you plead for this one? Do you not know what he’s done? How he’s dishonored this house, this family? He sought to take my throne, your home, while I was away!”

“I know,” she said, her voice breaking. She turned to look at Antinous, who was staring at her in shock. “I know what he’s done, but…I love him.” The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of her words settling like a stone.

“You…what?” Odysseus said, his voice low and dangerous.

Tears streamed down her face as she knelt before her father, clasping her hands together in supplication. “I love him, Father. Please, spare him. He made mistakes, terrible mistakes, but he’s not the monster you think he is. He’s more than that.” Antinous stared at her, his lips parting as if to speak, but no words came. He looked at her with a mix of disbelief and something softer, something vulnerable.

“More than that?” Odysseus barked, lowering the bow slightly but not relaxing his grip. “This man ate my food, drank my wine, and plotted to take my wife! He disrespected this house in every way imaginable. And you would plead for his life?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice firm despite the tears. “Because I love him, and if you kill him…” Her voice cracked. “If you kill him, you might as well kill me too.” Odysseus’s hand tightened on the bowstring, the muscles in his jaw working as he considered her words. His rage warred with the love he held for his daughter, the image of her kneeling there tearing at his heart.

Telemachus stepped forward, placing a hand on his father’s shoulder. “Father, perhaps we should listen to her,” he said cautiously. “Antinous is unarmed and defeated.” Odysseus turned his piercing gaze to his son, then back to his daughter. She looked up at him, her eyes shining with desperation and love, and for the first time, he saw her not as a little girl but as a woman willing to fight for what she believed in.

With a heavy sigh, Odysseus lowered the bow completely.

“Antinous,” he said, his voice sharp. “You live because of her, not because you deserve it. If I ever hear of you raising your hand or your voice against her, if I ever hear of you plotting against this house again, you will not get the chance to beg for mercy.” Antinous swallowed hard, his pride bruised, but he nodded. “I understand,” he said quietly, his voice thick. “You have my word.”

Odysseus turned back to his daughter. “This mercy comes at a price,” he said. “His life is yours to protect, but it is also your responsibility. Pray you’ve chosen wisely.” She nodded, tears streaming down her face as relief flooded her. “Thank you, Father,” she whispered, rising to her feet and stepping back to Antinous’s side.

Odysseus turned, his shoulders heavy with the weight of what had passed, and left the hall without another word. As the door closed behind him, Antinous looked at her, his face a mix of shame and gratitude. “You… you saved me,” he said softly.

She turned to him, her voice trembling but firm. “Don’t make me regret it.” Antinous nodded solemnly, his eyes locking with hers. “I won’t.”

[poeticpascal]

I've Got You (Dbf!Joel Miller x Reader)

Masterlist | Request here!

Summary: When a date set up by your father goes wrong, your secret boyfriend and Dad's best friend races to protect you.

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: smut, 18+, MDNI, attempted sexual assault, abusive language, reader's date is a tory prick, soft!dom!Joel, blowjob, unprotected sex, use of pet names.

A/n: So... this is my first time writing smut. I am super proud of this one, so please let me know what you think! Requests are open so for more Joel/Pedro action, you know where to find me x

Dating your Dad’s best friend is hard. And stupid. Really, you have no clue why either of you thought this'd be a good idea. But you were so far down this path now, so entangled in late night meet-ups and whispered phone calls and unspoken thoughts that sounded a lot like ‘I love you’, that it was too late to turn around and steer the sinking ship of this utter mess back to shore.

More than anything, you hate not having any normalcy with him. You can’t fall straight into his arms after a hard day. You can’t cuddle into his side with a bowl of popcorn watching crappy weeknight telly. You can’t go to the store together, holding hands and making him laugh as you insist on buying a flavour of ice cream that you know he’d love. And it sucks.

Because everyone said Joel would never be one to settle down. He’s too wild, too rough to fit into a polished little box like that. And you’d thought the same. Until you fucked him, then fucked him again, and kept going back until you could see the pain in his eyes each time you left. You could practically feel the heaviness settle in his stomach as you left his bed to sneak back home. It hurts him as much as it does you, and if you weren’t so incredibly in love with him, that would’ve been enough to make you run.

Despite how long you’d kept this going now, a good 6 months at least, it never got any easier. Especially when your Dad started talking about dating. He was protective, but more than anything he wanted to see you happy. So when you suddenly became distant, hiding in your room more often and going out on dates much less, he was concerned. Nowhere near as concerned as he’d be if he found out why you were acting that way, you thought, but concerned all the same.

So when he came home one day, beaming and shouting for you to come downstairs, you thought nothing of it. When he explained there was a new apprentice at his work that he thinks you’d like, you weren’t surprised. And when he told you he’d set up a blind date with said boy, you felt sick.

Because you really couldn’t get out of it. You tried.

“Dad, I just don’t feel like dating right now.”

“Oh come on, you used to have a new date every few weeks. I’m just worried about you. Matthew's really nice, and he likes the same shitty music you do-”

“It’s good music.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I just…” he paused, his worry painted on his face, and there's no way you could’ve said no to him. “Honey, I want you to be happy. I don’t know what’s gotten into you recently” - your best friend, you thought - “but I just need to know you’re okay. So give this a go, for me, alright? And if you have an awful time, that’s it, I’ll never set you up again.”

You sighed. He was right; it’s just one night, one date. One box you have to tick to relieve the pressure that comes from having an affair with your next door neighbour, the one more than twice your age, the one your Dad would call a brother. And besides, your Dad would be working an overnight job, so you’d be spending the night at Joel’s anyway. Something to look forward to.

“Okay, yeah. I’ll go. For you.”

He pulled you in for a hug, tight, and you hugged him right back because you really do hate having to keep this from him. He pulled away, smiling - “great! It’s tonight at 7. He’ll pick you up.”

“You already arranged it?!” You near enough shrieked, but he’d already sauntered off to the kitchen, giggling as he went. 

Typical.

So that’s how you ended up here, at 6:55pm, waiting by the front door for Marcus - or Michael, or something like that - to pick you up. Your phone buzzes, Joel’s name flashing on the screen, that alone making you feel that much calmer.

You’d text him as soon as you talked to your Dad, letting him know about the date. He understood, and you loved that about him; he was mature, compassionate, and he was more than secure in the fact that no matter who you talked to, who flirted with you on nights out, who you were set up with… you’d always come back to him. 

Don’t worry about tonight, baby. It’ll go quickly. I’ll leave the door unlocked for when you get back. Text me if you need picking up. J x

You smile at his initial at the end - it’s such a Dad thing to do, but it makes you happy, especially when he adds a little kiss. He only does that for you.

The sudden sound of a car door closing snaps you out of your thoughts, Joel’s text left on read as what you assume to be your date heads up the driveway. You take a deep, nervous breath, smoothing out your dress and heading to the door just in time for his knock.

You open the door, take a good look at your date, and he’s… okay. Not unattractive, per se. Though you’d come to accept a little while ago that being with Joel had soured your perception of pretty much every other guy. His dusty blonde hair is slicked back with gel, his teeth are way too white, and he’s dripped in designer clothing that just screams, “I have a trust fund.”

“Oh, hi! I’m Matthew.” Right. Matthew. “You must be (Y/N).” He leans in to peck your cheek, and all you can think about is how smooth his skin is as it grazes yours. Nothing like Joel’s coarse stubble that you love so much - especially when it leaves red patches on your cheeks, and your neck, and if you’re really lucky -

Matthew leans back a little, confused, and you’re brought out of your daydream. “Sorry, yeah, that’s me. (Y/N).” 

Well, that was awkward.

You just need to get through these next few hours, you think to yourself, smiling at the boy and letting him lead you out of the house and into his car. You can’t help but glance towards Joel’s place across the street; it looks quiet tonight, though his truck is in the driveway, and as soon as you look up you’re sure you catch the living room blinds suddenly draw shut. You smirk.

──────

The date was going… okay. About as okay as a date you don’t want to be on, with someone you have no interest in, and another man constantly on your mind could go. You could see why your Dad liked him; smart enough, well-polished. His father was a partner in the company, you learned - oh, he’s a ‘Daddy’s credit card’ type you’d thought - and by all intents and purposes he was the sort of guy any parent would hope to see their daughter end up with.

It’s never that easy though, is it?

Because he isn’t rough around the edges like Joel. He doesn’t have his stature, or carry himself with the same brute certitude. You can’t imagine him fucking you up against the wall, working himself up until he’s almost animalistic, somehow using you and worshipping you at the same time. And you can’t see him wrapping you up so tightly afterwards, holding you close and whispering how good you were for me, how proud of you I am.

No, only Joel could do that, and that’s how you like it.

The bill comes, Matthew suggests you split it. You don’t mind. He takes out his credit card, flashing it in front of you. “This is my Dad’s. I can use it as much as I want.” He’s smirking like he’s got something to be proud of, and you really had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. Instead you just smile, before paying your share and making small talk as you head out the door and towards his car.

“So, I thought we could head back to my place.”

You freeze. Yeah, no, not gonna happen. He’s got this shit-eating grin on his face, one you knew all too well from past college boyfriends - that’s a boy who thinks he’s getting some tonight. You shudder, wrapping your arms around your waist and trying to sound sincere as you reply, “this has been lovely, but I’ve got an appointment early in the morning” - not really a lie, if staying in bed with a man over twice your age getting fucked or cuddled or both counts as an appointment - “so I’d rather just head home.”

You reach for the passenger side door, but it’s locked. You try again, pulling on the handle, but it doesn’t budge. You realise then that he’s stepped closer, too close, crowding your vision as you turn to face him while keeping one hand on the door’s handle. He leans an arm against the roof of the car, right beside your head, staring you down. 

“Oh, come on, (Y/N). I’ve got the house to myself tonight, it’ll just be us. I know that’s what you want, don’t be shy.”

His free hand pinches your chin, his touch aggressive where Joel’s is rough but careful, and he tries to close the already too-small gap between you.

You dodge him quickly, slipping out from under his arm and backing up, away from the car, away from him. Matthew just watches you, incredulous, before laughing to himself and taking a step forward. “Look, baby, I know you want this. What is it, are you scared your daddy’s gonna find out?”

“What? No, I-” you splutter, but he interrupts.

“Get in the car, (Y/N). You don’t have to worry about anyone finding out. I can see the way you look at me, I bet you’re dying to fu-”

A heavy sickness has flooded your stomach, your nerves shot from the sudden escalation of what was supposed to be a quiet, albeit tedious, night. But his words hit you, and before you can even think, you’re shouting back at him. 

“You seriously think I want to fuck you? You can’t even pay your half of the bill with your own money. Fuck that. I’ll make my own way home.”

The smug look on his face is quickly washed away with anger, and you continue to slowly step backwards as Matthew follows you. A lick of fear sets in now as the pale streetlights cast shadows on his darkened expression, and you scold yourself for opening your mouth.

“The fuck did you just say to me? Do you know who my Dad is?” - this really isn’t a good time to roll your eyes - “You think you’re too good for me, you bitch? I’ll show you.”

He stalks you, and your eyes frantically dart back to the restaurant you’d just left, though you’d backtracked far enough to be almost at the door again.

People are dining and laughing, some just sitting and watching the world go by. You’re well within their view, and you turn back to see that Matthew’s gaze has followed your own and he’s connected the dots. He can’t do anything in front of them. He locks eyes with you again, scoffing, heading back to his car and loudly shouting something that sounded a lot like “fuckin’ bitch.” Nice.

He drives away; you’re safe, out of the situation, and as the relief floods you the adrenaline does too and tears prick at your eyes. You sit on a small bench just outside the restaurant, dotted with shrubbery and stains from spilt drinks you assume, and take out your phone.

Your last chat with Joel is already open, and you breathe slowly in an attempt to still your shaking hands as you type quickly,

Please come and get me. He was trying to get me to go back with him. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. He’s gone now but I have no ride home.

The text is marked as ‘read’ almost as soon as you send it, though you receive no reply. You didn’t expect to; Joel wasn’t much of a texter. Like, at all. He was slowly getting used to it, what with it being one of the only ways you could really talk when slipping over to his place was too risky. 

In this particular instance, you already knew he’d have read the text, dropped his phone without a second thought and hurried to his truck while muttering to himself what he’s gonna do to the kid, how he won’t see what’s comin’ to him.

Just how badly Joel might react worries you. He’s protective, incredibly so when it comes to you, and that combined with his white hot temper was surely a recipe for some sort of disaster.

Secretly, though, you loved it. And so as you sat on that little bench, frosty air nipping at your skin, you couldn’t help but revel in the warmth that pooled in your core at the thought of what sort of beast Joel would become tonight.

──────

It only takes him around 10 minutes to reach you, and you know for a fact he must’ve ran a red light or two because normally it’s a 20 minute drive at least into town. You stand, walking over to his truck, but before you can hop in he’s already storming out and wrapping you up in his arms, shielding you, eyes darting across the street.

“Where the fuck is he?”

“Joel, I-”

“(Y/N) where the fuck is he? I’m gonna kill that little bastard. Fucking-”

His body is tense, far more so than usual, and anger pours from him in buckets. You pull away to look up at him, his eyes still searching for the boy long gone, and you sigh. “He’s gone, Joel. He left.”

He finally meets your eyes, a cold frown etched on his face, and he somehow looks even angrier than usual. “Did he touch you?” His hands roam your body, searching for you didn’t know what, but you let him do whatever he needed to relax. To know you were safe.

“No, Joely, he didn’t. I’m fine, I promise.”

It usually softens him right up, your little nickname for him. Joely. The first few times you used it, he’d just scoff or roll his eyes, but the small smirk that crept onto his face each time let you know he loved it. Quite how much he loved it was a different story; you hadn’t got together then, though the both of you wanted it, and as your relationship blossomed you became the only one he ever let call him anything other than Joel.

It doesn’t work this time, though, and he remains stern, finally letting you go and searching your eyes for even a hint of anxiety or fear. “What happened?”

“He tried it on, I said no. He tried again, I backed up and made sure there were people watching,” you nod towards the restaurant, still bustling with life. “And he left.”

Joel nods. “You tell him to fuck off?”

“‘Course i did.” 

It seems as if he finally lets up then, giving you a proper hug, one arm around your neck and the other around your waist. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, hard, and the tension leaves him. “That’s my girl.”

You squeeze him tight, burrowing into his shirt and inhaling the scent of him that you loved so much. With one arm around your shoulders, he guides you back to his truck, opening the door for you and helping you. He does it everytime, but it still makes you blush, and you’re sure his lips smirk slightly as your cheeks turn red. Worth it.

The ride back to home is quiet, only the sound of his radio and passing traffic echoing between you. He keeps a hand on your knee, always protective, and every now and then you rub your palm over it to let him know you appreciate it. To say thank you.

Joel was never good with words, and you’d learned over the last few months just how much he relies on touch to express himself. To show love. You’d picked up on his habits, his little signs, his way of telling you his deepest thoughts without having to speak a word.

And when you reciprocated, when you wrapped your hand around his, or brushed his side at the neighbours’ BBQ, or kissed his shoulder in the kitchen, you knew just what it meant to him.

Your driveway is empty as Joel turns onto your street - your Dad must have set off for work already. You sigh in relief; you didn’t have the energy to explain all this to him, and certainly not the energy to try and sneak into Joel’s without him seeing.

Joel steps out first, taking a quick look around to make sure no nosey neighbours were watching, a precaution you were both used to by now. He grabs the door for you again, holding your hand and helping you out, holding you close to his side as he unlocks the door and you both slip inside.

“What do you want to drink?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

He pauses, looking at you, concerned. ”No. You need somethin’ to drink. You need to- to lie down, or somethin’.”

You follow him into the kitchen as he stalks past you, not giving you time to answer and filling a glass with water and ice. “Drink,” he hands it to you.

You take it, thanking him and sipping as he watches. It’s sweet; he cares about you, so much, and when he looks at you like this you can’t help but feel butterflies swirl in your stomach.

“I’m sorry.” It’s almost a whisper, so quiet you wouldn’t have heard if it weren’t so still already in his house.

“Hm?” You look at him, confused.

“I’m sorry he did that to you. S’not - s’not right. I mean, shit, what if you couldn’t get away?” He was spiralling.

“Hey, hey. Joel, it’s okay. I’m okay.” You set down the glass and take him in your arms. He calms, instantly, holding you tightly against him and cupping the back of your head with his hand.

“You shouldn’t have had to go through that.”

“I know.”

He sighs. “I just wanna protect you, honey.”

“I know.”

He pulls back to look at you, framing your face with his hands and running his thumbs along the edge of your cheekbones.  You lean in, letting his lips capture yours in that sweet but desperate way that only Joel can, and moan into his mouth. He slips his tongue against yours, letting one arm fall to your waist as his hand lingers around the hem of your jeans.

The kiss becomes desperate and you reach for his belt, your arousal becoming unbearable as the memory of him so full of anger and protectiveness spins in your mind like a carousel. He breaks the kiss and you groan, chasing his swollen lips with yours.

“We don’t have to do this.” His southern drawl is slick with need, his eyes closed as he rests his forehead against yours. The moment is so sweet, so intimate, that any thoughts of what had happened today were long gone and your mind was full with sweepings of him.

“I want to.”

He grunts, pushing himself further into you so his nose brushes yours like a cat. So much so, you almost purr into him, and it makes you giggle. You curse yourself as he pulls back, cocking an eyebrow and giving you that stare you’d come to know all too well; you’re a pain in my ass, it says. But the corners of his lips turn upwards, and you step forward so you’re once again pressed right up against him, pressing gentle kisses to his jaw.

“You’ve had a big shock today, sweetheart,” he sighs.

You know he’s given up. You know he needs this as much as you do. But you humour him, and tip his head down so you can kiss his lips again. 

“So make me forget.”

It snaps something within him, and you shriek as Joel sweeps you up in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist in instinct and your head burying itself in his neck. He laughs at the sound you make, something you’d always known to be so rare for him, but that he does far more often now he has you. 

He carries you upstairs, gripping your thighs with his large hands, and the way he holds you so easily just turns you on more. He kicks his bedroom door open, all but throwing you on the bed and watching as you bounced softly on the sheets, undoing his belt that was already half-opened by your shaky hands.

“On your back. Lay your head towards me.”

You did as he said immediately, though your movements were slow, languid. He let you take your time; a part of you thinks he likes to watch you move for him, the way you put on a show, keeping your eyes locked on his and your lips slightly parted and puffy from his kiss. 

You lie on your back, your head dangling off the edge, looking up at him upside down. The hard outline of his cock is just centimetres above you, swollen already, and your desperation to taste it must’ve shown on your face because Joel groans out a soft, strangled “fuck.”

“You need this cock, baby? Need your throat fucked?” You just nod rapidly, desperate for him to do something other than just stand there and watch you, your arousal becoming unbearable. Joel seems to break, too, pulling down his jeans and boxers and gripping his hard length in his hands. 

It’s big at the best of times, but from this angle, his balls level with your eyes and his cock the only thing you can see when you look up at him, it’s painful how bad you need him.

You’d only discovered this position recently, on a night you’d spent at his place while your Dad was away with work, not unlike tonight. Joel had been floored, consumed with pleasure as the stretch of your spine made it so easy for him to slide himself through your mouth and down your throat, the muscles tensing around him and drawing his release much sooner than he’d have liked. 

He slides the head of his cock over your lips, painting them in his precum. You whine, lapping at his taste, desperate but you know better than to lift your hands off the bed. No, you give him control, and he lavishes it.

“Open up, babygirl.”

You comply, parting your lips and moaning as Joel pushes inside, giving you no time to breathe. You try to control yourself, inhaling through your nose and letting your muscles relax before he bottoms out, his groin almost entirely covering your face and your throat full of his thickness. 

It’s filthy, degrading, resigns you to nothing but his to fuck and use as he wants. 

You love it.

“Such a good girl, baby. So good for me, ain’t ya?” You can hardly even nod as your tongue flicks along a particularly swollen vein. He begins to move, pulling out almost entirely before slamming his cock back into your mouth. You moan again, and it hurts, in that delectable way that’ll spend the next few days reminding you of this moment.

Joel’s got one hand on the wooden foot of the bed, keeping himself steady. The other finds its way to your neck, and he stalls as he feels his cock beneath your skin, rapidly pushing in and out. He moans your name, his hips rocking into you harder and harder, chasing a release you knew he wouldn’t let himself have just yet. 

You’re completely at his mercy now, too consumed by his scent and his touch to think, and you hardly register him reaching for your hand and taking it in his own. He starts to mumble, and you only catch a few words - “my good girl. My girl. So- so fuckin’ pretty for me.”

He swells, your tongue working faster against him, his hand squeezing yours and his legs faltering when he suddenly pulls out and stands back with a whimper. Your eyes are glazed over, your sore throat misses him, and your pink swollen lips are trying to say something but you’re not sure what. It feels like his name.

“Come on, pretty girl, come here.” He sits beside you on the edge of the bed, wrapping his big arms around your back and guiding you into his lap. 

His fingers dance over your entrance, collecting the slick that soaked your thighs before pushing a single finger inside, revelling in your arousal. He admires you as you squirm, rolling your hips against his hand, desperate for more and moaning against his lips. 

It’s almost embarrassing how easy you unravel for him, and if it weren’t for your utter infatuation for the man, you’d have hidden your pleasure and at least tried to hold onto some sense of dignity. But you were obsessed, addicted to him, and he knew it. Because god, was he addicted to you, too.

He kisses you, letting another finger slip inside and catching your hiss with his mouth. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, opening his eyes to look at you, his cock twitching against your thigh. 

“Tell me what you need, angel.”

“Y- you, Joel. I need you. Please.” You hardly register yourself saying the words, but they do the trick, as Joel removes his fingers and instead lines the tip of his cock with your soaking wet entrance. 

“Please, please, fuck me. Fuck-” 

He snaps his hips upwards, driving his cock into your cunt and you gasp as he stretches you. You grip at his shoulders, sure to leave marks, but you know he loves it. 

He sets the pace, guiding you to bounce on his cock as his hips snap upwards again and again, fucking you so hard you can almost see stars. 

His head is buried in your neck, kissing and nipping at the delicate skin, and you try to regain some autonomy and roll your hips side to side making him mewl. 

“So - oh, fuck - so good baby, keep doin’ that.” He spurs you on as your breathless moans and the heavy slap of skin on skin fills the room, lewd but addictive.

The pace is brutal, unforgiving as your thighs tremble and you wonder if he’s feeling the burn of his movements. If he does, he doesn’t show it, just ramming into you and moaning your name against your ear. 

His hand falls from your waist and finds its way to your clit, making you gasp as he circles his thumb around the spot. The near pornographic moan that falls from his lips as you roll into his touch is nearly enough to make you cum right there, but you know better than to cum before he tells you to.

Instead he hoists you further up, giving him better control of your hips, and angles his cock so it hits that perfectly raw spot deep inside you that has tears in your eyes.

“I- I’m gonna-” 

“I know, baby. Just hold on for me. I’ve got you.” You cry at his denial, though it’s quickly forgotten as he flips you over onto your back, his head still tucked under the crook of your neck, his cock still buried inside you. He resumes his fast pace, reaching even deeper inside you with your legs locked around his waist, and you moan so loudly you worry someone’s going to hear you.

Joel doesn’t seem to care as he pulls back to look at you, marvelling at how utterly fucked-out you look for him. His pace starts to falter, each thrust more desperate than the last, and he frantically pushes his tongue into your mouth as you moan in unison.

“Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock, that’s it.” You release on command, crying out as waves of pleasure spread like fire through your body, and the uncontrollable spasms of your orgasm make Joel groan as he spills inside you, still rocking into you and carrying both of your highs.

He doesn’t let his cock slip out of you as he wraps an arm under your back and rolls onto his side, holding you close as he brushes the matted hair away from your forehead and replaces it with a soft kiss. You hum, snuggling into him and trying not to gasp at the feeling of his cock inside you while you were still so sensitive. He can see you flinch and smiles, though he just wants you to rest for now.

“You okay, babygirl?” You just hum again, but he taps your chin and you look up. 

“Answer me, angel.”

“I’m good. Tired.”

Joel nods, running his hand through your hair and agreeing, “me too.” 

You’re quiet for a moment, almost dozing off as the heat that radiates from him lulls you gently to seep, when he breaks the silence again. “What’s his name?”

“Hm?” You reply, too fucked-out to really understand what he was saying.

“That little asshole. What’s his name?”

He’s looking down at you, brows knitted together, and you just sigh. “It doesn’t matter, Joel. He doesn’t matter. I promise.”

“But-“

You cut him off with a kiss, and the tension that built in his shoulders is quickly dissipated. “No ‘but’s. Get some sleep.”

“Aright,” he resigns. “I love you.”

It slips out, sudden, and he freezes before he realises the joy that’s spread across your face from his words. It’s the first time either of you have said it, and the way your eyes light up are enough to let him die a happy man. You nuzzle his nose, your hand gently lay on his chest, your eyes falling shut again. “I love you too, Joel.” He wraps you up tighter, grinning, happy. In love.. “And no asking my Dad, either.”

He scoffs, “I wasn’t going to!” You just cock a brow, eyes still shut, and though you can’t see him you know he’s rolling his eyes. “Let me get you cleaned up, sweetheart.” 

He pulls out of you slowly, making you wince at the loss, and sits up on the bed. When you can still feel his weight beside you, you crack an eye open to see him quickly typing something on his phone, and you frown. “Joel?”

He startles and drops his phone, turning to you and kissing the top of your head. “Sorry, baby, I’m going - just gimme a sec to get you a warm cloth.”

As he leaves for the bathroom you snatch his phone, already knowing what he’d done. Your Dad’s name is at the top of the screen, the chat from just moments ago still open:

What’s the name of that kid (Y/N) went out with?

Matthew Wicks, he’s the new apprentice at work. Why?

Just wondered.

You’re weird, man.

Joel creeps out of the bathroom, frozen as he sees you lock his phone. He offers a small, guilty smile, quickly wiped away as you grab his pillow and playfully launch it at his chest. 

“JOEL!”

──────

Thank you so much for reading! As ever, comments and weblogs are so appreciated, and please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in my future fics!

[sukunas-wife]

YOU NEED TO MAKE MORE DAD!SUKUNA😭 It’s just soo good!!!, I’m literally obsessed with Dad!sukuna🫶🏻

lol here’s a little snippet to start the day, in other words I had a domestic dream 🥺🤍

Jujutsu Teacher Sukuna AU

Somewhere in another time line Sukuna became a not so dedicated teacher at Jujutsu high school still after having turned himself into a curse, even 1000 years he landed a spot on the higher up’s board it hilarious when they try to execute someone and he completely disagrees.

They learned quickly is Sukuna disapproves of their actions agree with arrimen Sukuna. Don’t go behind his back and try to do it either. He’s not afraid to kill everyone and replace the entire board of Higher Ups

Then one year he met you, you came in from the sister school to be teacher. Usually he tried not to mess with staff they only last so long anyways. But maybe it was that time he saw you banging your head in the drink machine because you used your last bills to buy a drink and it got stuck. Or maybe it was that time Gojo and Toji surprisingly decided to team up against you and you managed to hold your own.

It was when YOU started to pursUE HIM he became really intrigued. At first he became annoyed because not to far behind the corner he could hear the snickering and “Oh she’s really doing it!” “She’s a brave woman to try and flirt with him…” “What are you idiots do- oh, this could be interesting.” “shhh, I can’t hear what he’s saying!”

You didn’t notice when he flicked his wrist, but you did hear your coworkers panic and the rushed steps. Looking back confused you were more confused when you looked back at Sukuna and he was leaning forward getting face to face with you before squishing your face in one of his hands. “You do understand you proud Jujutsu Sorcerers don’t live very long, so give me one good reason you want my attention.”

You wanted to badly to look away from those demanding red eyes, to pull away and breath the God given air, instead here you were getting dazed off his musk and cologne. Feeling his warm hand squish your face, nails lightly pressing against your skin. Smash- swallowing you had one chance to do this right. Don’t stutter, don’t fear, breath, don’t rush, don’t show him WEAKNESS.

“I J- ahem” ah.. I messed up already, “Wait let me restart- Okay I’m ready, I’m not gonna stand here and promise happiness smiles and endless love, praise and worship. I’m not gonna lie to your face and tell you everything you want to hear and pretend it’s all sunshine and rainbows. When I go on a mission I’m not gonna say I promise to always come back that would be a fools move. But at least in my last moments I’d have to privilege to remember you and all those wise words you used to tell me like. “Dumbass that’s why you keep more than two dollars in your wallet.” Or “Living to please others and dying with regrets if no helping everyone is vain, Live to please yourself at least in your final moments you’ll have some sense of fulfillment.” So like it or not I’m here to please myself if you say No and tell me to fuck off and send me on my way. I won’t regret having asking. If you say yes, well I won’t lie I wouldn’t really know what to do or say I came in expected to be rejected and humbled.” Finally your eyes left his, you were oblivious to stare he had. He wasn’t completely amused but he wasn’t bored of your words either. “Look at me.” You did, “you didn’t bore me entirely with your little … speech so I’ll give you one opportunity. Sunday, I have an early mission, meet me here at 4 in the morning and I’ll tell you with me. After I finish you can have the rest of my day or until I get bored.”

He didn’t get bored… it turned out you amused him so much more when you weren’t surrounded be suits.

And that’s how you ended up here.

“Yuji don’t say something stupid love can’t protect anyone.” Nobara rolled her eyes, “Yuh huh, your words can’t hurt me because my mom and dad’s love protects me.” He puffed his chest out crossing his arms and smiling with closed eyes, missing the book Nobara was throwing at him. A solid sound was made, Yuji was wide eyed, the all to familiar wrist holding the heavy book just in front of his face, “Careful Miss.Kugisaki it’d be a shame if you caught extra missions for disabling another student from completing his own.” Yuji smiled proudly, “See, protected.”

Sukuna rolled his eyes, “Get to class Fushiguro was on your ass last time for being late to class.” He nodded his head at Yuji who just smiled sheepishly rubbing the back of his head, “Alright.” Of course the Trio ran past you greeting you with “Hi Mrs.Sukuna!” Good morning Mom!” “Morning Y/n Senpai.” You watched them all keep running until your husband stood next to you offering you the Coffee Cup he had been drinking. You were distracted by one thing “Why do you have our photo album?” Sukuna felt his eye twitch, “Damn brat.” Was all he mumbled tucking it under his shoulder, “Your son believes your love protects him.”

You laughed, “OUR son believes OUR love for him protects him. Considering your holding that book Im assuming Kugisaki tried to throw it at him or you were reminiscing on that time you had to save them from a Special Grade ambush and when you had to carry them all out Yuji was sniffling how he knew he could count on you to be there for him.”

He looked away, “Higher ups are lucky I only wiped out half of them.” You rested your head on his shoulder pulling the album from him. “Aaww this is Yuji’s baby album” you cooed seeing the picture of Sukuna holding Yuji next to a bouquet of “It’s a Boy!” Balloons. In the background you could see the blur of Geto smacking Gojo on the back of the head.

Sukuna is secure as a man and father 🥹

So it’s not a surprise to you when you come home late from the school and find true form Sukuna threatening to break the sofa under his weight coddling 15yo Yuji 🥹

As much of a brute people have him to be, Yuji might be his only son, and he might call him brat and roll his eyes a lot. But he’d be damned if he were truly a bad dad. In a whispered conversation he told you about everything that happened on Yuji’s mission. How the mission was purposely miss graded and they basically walked into a special grade curses domain. Sukuna had no doubt in his mind that if wouldn’t have been the one over seeing their mission the first years wouldn’t have walked back out alive.

Yuji was alright the entire ride but when he got home he broke down crying, speechless gasping for air. That’s when Sukuna pick him up carrying him over the sofa, coddling Yuji wasn’t as easy now that they were almost the same height, so he turned to his true form. And let Yuji cry, scream and hold onto him. Rubbing his back, holding his head against his shoulder, just talking to him to comfort him. “Do you remember that time we went to the park, and you wondered off to far chasing a duck.” Yuji nodded still sniffling, “Your mom was scared shitless when she couldn’t find you.” He laughed and Yuji laughed lightly, “y.. yeah I remember I jumped into the pond and then you and mom started screaming and then jumped in…” sukuna laughed louder, “Y/n was so mad but she couldn’t stay mad when she saw you with that little duck.” He patted Yuji’s back resting his chin on his head. Soon Yuji fell asleep.

It led you to find him this state. You asked him to go lay him in his bed, he did. He came to help you make some comfort food, it was hilarious when you asked if he could use dismantle on vegetables and it turned out he could. Now over the table in the wall is a sign that says “Malevolent Kitchen.”

The house that night was filled with the soft sounds of cooking, you and your husband talking about whatever came to mind. The Golden pot boiling with whatever broth you made. Sukuna was fighting the rice cooker while you tempura fried some shrimp and rolled some noodles to cook

It was well past 9 when you heard Yuji coming, both of you turning to see him walking yawning and rubbing his eyes. Bare feet padding along the kitchen floor. “Come sit down Yu you gotta be hungry.” you fixed him a large bowl of noodles with Tempura shrimp. On the side were the massive Onigiri Sukuna had made, he even tried to use the nori stamp to put little faces on them. More often than not they have 4 little crooked eyes that looked mad but it squeezed your heart how he laughed to himself saying “Yuji’s going to love these.”

He did, you watched as he bit into it rice sticking to his face. “These are good dad what did you fill them with?” “Nitamago we forgot to pack em for lunch so.. improvise I guess.” You both sat down with Yuji talking and eating. Just enjoying the free time you had together before Sukuna would go commit another crime against the higher ups 🤍🤍

Yeah 🥹

Im here 10-1 in the morning 🤍 It took all day to type this out 😭😭

Also a lot of my co workers walked out today 🥹 it was rough

Tag List: @sad-darksoul @cyder-puff @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @sakuxxi @mercymccann @simpforyoubitch @certainduckanchor @domainofmarie @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare

[mylovesstuffs]

100 Reasons Why I Love Seungcheol ! (a.k.a. S.Coups, Choi Leader, Carat Nation’s Dad)

1. The way he manages 12 chaotic kids (men) like a pro. Where’s his Parent of the Year award?

2. When he yells at them but immediately softens like a marshmallow.

3. His laugh can cure seasonal depression.

4. A visual.

5. His habit of acting like the maknae when he’s the eldest.

6. Petty Seungcheol is peak comedy.

7. When he tries to act cool, but the members clown him anyway.

8. His relationship with aegyo.

9. The way he thinks he’s subtle when being dramatic.

10. His iconic “Say the name!”

11. When he stands in the center like he owns the stage. (Because he does.)

12. His “I’m SEVENTEEN’s leader” energy.

13. That time he pulled off blone hair like a literal Greek god.

14. The way he stares into the camera during performances.

15. How he can make a single word sound like a life-changing declaration.

16. The emotional damage from his tongue plays.

17. His airport looks could rival a runway.

18. His tiny, proud smiles when the members achieve something. You can see the love in his eyes.

19. The fact that he knows exactly how to bias-wreck us.

20. How he’s effortlessly charismatic without even trying.

21. The way he protects the members like they’re his own brothers.

22. When he cried during their Daesang speech—who didn’t cry with him?

23. That time he comforted Jeonghan when he was sick, and our hearts collectively melted.

24. How he takes care of Carats.

25. The soft way he says, “Thank you, Carats.” (Excuse me while I sob.)

26. When he got emotional during their first win.

27. His little “fighting!” moments to cheer everyone up.

28. The way his presence alone calms the chaos in the group (most of the time).

29. The way he values teamwork over individual success.

30. His deep, gravelly voice that feels like a warm hug.

31. Knowing he’s been through tough times but came out stronger.

32. When he cried feeling unworthy of being the leader—Cheol, we’ll fight anyone who made you feel like that.

33. Seeing him push through injuries just to be with SEVENTEEN and Carats.

34. His constant worry about whether he’s doing enough.

35. That one hiatus he took, which made us miss him like crazy but as long as he's okay.

36. Knowing he carries so much responsibility on his shoulders but never complains.

37. How he always thinks of the members’ happiness before his own.

38. His bittersweet smiles during emotional moments—why must you hurt us like this?

39. The way he supports his members during hard times.

40. He cried more over Woozi's hard work than their first win.

41. His leadership is unmatched—period.

42. He’s the glue that keeps SEVENTEEN together.

43. His vocals are criminally underrated.

44. His stage presence is absolute legend behavior.

45. How he hypes up the members like their #1 fan.

46. The way he makes sure every member gets their moment to shine.

47. He’s a friend, brother, and protector.

48. His rap go hard.

49. The way he’s always looking out for the younger members.

50. He gives off main character energy without overshadowing anyone.

51. His pout—it’s a lethal weapon.

52. The way he drinks water like he’s in a CF.

53. When he flips his hair mid-dance. Yes, it’s a reason.

54. His Jigeumbuteo. Iconic.

55. His obsession with Shinchan—same, honestly.

56. The way he claps when he’s laughing too hard.

57. His habit of clinging. Mood.

58. That one episode of Going Seventeen where he was scared giggling and wrapping arms with Shua just because he's scared lol.

59. How he randomly lifts the members like they weigh nothing (especially Hao).

60. When he plays rock-paper-scissors like it’s a serious sport.

61. Seungcheol is the reason I now find men with leadership skills attractive.

62. He’s personally responsible for ruining my bias list every other week.

63. The amount of time I’ve spent analyzing his fancams is embarrassing.

64. His “leader line” moments with RM and Bang Chan.

65. How he’s secretly a softie who loves hugs.

66. He lives rent-free in my brain, and I’m not charging him.

67. The way I feel personally attacked by his selfies.

68. How he can bias-wreck me with a single smirk.

69. The way he hypes up other members on stage like a proud dad.

70. Why does he make me emotional over a simple “fighting!”?

71. He’s a role model.

72. The way he shows that strength can be soft and kind.

73. How he’s grown with SEVENTEEN from boys to men.

74. His love for Carats—it’s so genuine it hurts.

75. He’s proof that hard work pays off.

76. The way he balances being goofy and responsible.

77. His dedication to his craft—it’s inspiring.

78. How he takes pride in SEVENTEEN’s achievements without being boastful.

79. The fact that he’s never forgotten where he came from.

80. Knowing he truly cares about SEVENTEEN’s legacy.

81. His dimples.

82. The way he flips between being a charismatic idol on stage and a complete goofball off stage.

83. When he said, “I’m SEVENTEEN’s dad,” and it’s both funny and true.

84. How he radiates warmth, even through a screen.

85. His goofy side that he shows when he’s comfortable.

86. The way he makes everyone feel like they belong.

87. His deep, thoughtful words during interviews.

88. How he remembers even the smallest details about the members.

89. The way he leads with both his heart and his head.

90. He’s the definition of dependable.

91. He’s a leader who listens, not just commands.

92. His honesty.

93. The way he reminds us that it’s okay to take breaks.

94. He’s proof that vulnerability is strength.

95. How he brings out the best in everyone around him.

96. His endless love for music and performing.

97. The way he’s stayed humble despite SEVENTEEN’s success.

98. Knowing he’ll always have SEVENTEEN and Carats’ backs.

99. He’s family.

100. Because, honestly, there’s no one else like Choi Seungcheol.

[myringtoe]

lose control | fairy tail 🧚

pairing: natsu dragneel x reader, gray fullbuster x reader

cw/tw: an elsa joke for gray, little bit of smut so mdni

notes 🗒️: i don’t see NEARLY enough fairy tail works on here, so might as well do it myself. 😭 have some random headcannons for natsu and gray. these are just some that came to mind. please let me know if there's anything else you'd like to see. :)

natsu dragneel

genuinely makes me wanna cry he’s so cute omfg deserves all the happiness in the world-

anyway

the literal definition of a himbo

he may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but he’s trying okay?

you may have to explain some things to him, about being in a relationship anyway.

bc i believe once you make it official, he would go right back to treating you just like a friend. 😭

and it’s not because he doesn’t wanna put in the effort or that he doesn’t actually love you, he just thinks it’s implied and that he doesn’t have to say it.

its a very interesting conversation to say the least. 💀

when you explain to him that you want him to be romantic, bring you flowers, take you on dates, etc. he’s listening SO intently it’s adorable.

he does actually try to take you out and bring you flowers after that conversation, he’s a good boyfriend.

literally takes you EVERYWHERE. you don’t have a choice.

he’s going on a job? you’re going too, whether you want to or not. he never wants to be separated from you.

god forbid you guys have to ride a train or anything (you will). you become his personal pillow. natsu is either laying his head on your shoulder or lap the ENTIRE journey. (he especially appreciates it if you stroke his hair while he’s got motion sickness :3)

will wear matching onesies with you in public, bro does not gaf.

is SO touchy. like omfg- everyone within a three mile radius will know that somethings going on between you. natsu has NO concept of personal space.

is amazing to cuddle with during the winter, during the summer? HELL NO. you’re literally shoving this man away from you and he’s so hurt by it. 😭

smut up ahead, mdni

in my opinion, he doesn’t like being submissive.

he’d let you power bottom, but you’d know that he always has control.

reverse cowgirl - he likes being able to grip your hips and sit up and whisper in your ear- 😮‍💨

mating press - we all know he loves that shit- loves being able to look into your eyes and tell you the nastiest things he wants to do to you.

prone - ngl…i think he’d like putting his arm around your neck as a form of breath play, and listening to you gradually go dumb on his dick-

about that, he will force you to look at him. there’s no such thing as being shy when it comes to sex with natsu.

if it’s your first time, he tries to be so gentle with you. doesn’t want to “break” you as he puts it. (not yet anyway)

very spontaneous. doesn’t care if yall are in the middle of the woods, he’s down anytime and anywhere.

he just wants to fuck you all the time.

will flex how strong he is. like picking you up, tossing you on the bed, etc. he’s very proud of his strength. (it doesn’t matter your size)

i think he’s had sex like once, so he isn’t very experienced. i think he’s experienced enough to know some of the things he likes.

7 inches hard, on the more girth side, upward curve, reddish purple tip-

gray fullbuster

oh lord have mercy. the man that started my love for anime men- 😭

again, cliche but it’s true. it’s amazing to cuddle with him during the summer. but during the winter? nah. you become a certified blanket hogger.

which he doesn’t really mind, the cold never bothered him anyway- (i’m sorry)

we all know this man isn’t great at voicing his feelings and how much he loves you, but he does show it through his actions.

(to me, gray and megumi are sooo similar because of how willing they are to die to win)

he’ll actually take the initiative on dates, he pays attention to the things you like, he brings you flowers without you having to ask.

a really chill boyfriend overall. (no, i didn’t mean to make that pun)

i don’t know why, but i feel like gray can cook? cannot tell you why i feel like he can, i just do. ur definitely taught him how.

gray is the king of casual possessiveness. like he won’t tell you that you’re his, he’ll show it. like a hand on your thigh, on the small of your back, etc.

and it’s not like he means to do it either, it’s almost subconscious for him. 😭

if you get cold easily, he feels really bad that he can’t hold you to make you warmer. :( will definitely get you blankets, start a fire, etc to help as much as possible though.

please touch this man

he’s so touch starved please

needs a good and long hug. needs to be told he’s loved and that he matters. :(

loves music, you can’t tell me otherwise. if you can sing? he loves that shit.

smut up ahead, mdni

out of the two, grays the softer one.

he’s more likely to relinquish control, let you take the reigns.

can be more dominant and rough, but generally prefers soft and sensual love making.

it comes from a place of not wanting to hurt you.

you’ll definitely have to do some convincing before he’ll be okay with losing control a little.

gray definitely uses the red, yellow, and green light system in bed.

missionary - he loves how intimate it is, being able to see your expressions really gets him going.

cowgirl - likes seeing you on top, adores the visual of your body and how much you’re enjoying yourself.

lotus - again, he LIVES for the intimacy.

i think gray looks at sex as being sacred, something you do only with someone you love and cherish.

so despite unconsciously stripping for everyone to see, he’s not just giving it out to everyone. which leads me to believe he’s not very experienced.

i mean, sure, he’s had a few past lovers, but i don’t think he ever went the full way with them.

also 7 inches hard, on the longer side, curves to the left, light pink tip, really pretty

[bamboobooshark]

MOON BOYS X READER

₊˚.⋆🕯️⋆⁺. FIRST NIGHT TOGETHER : 4.2K WRDS

A/N : Originally, my goal with these preferences was to try write more than 1k words. I ended up writing a lot more as you can tell by the word count! I’m really proud of myself for that to be honest. Anyway, here’s some preferences for staying at the Moon Boys’ flat for the first night after spending some time with them. Warning for a pinch of angst with Steven’s, anxiety with Marc’s, and badly written Spanish in Jake’s (sorry </3)

STEVEN GRANT .

You and Steven have been friends for a while now. Both of you moved into the same apartment building around the same week. With the agreement to make the most of it, the two of you decided you would meet up every evening after Steven’s shift to talk.

Sometimes you guys would simply talk and you’d give him a ride home since he didn’t have a license. Other times, you’d greet each other with the goofiest grins with the knowledge that you planned an outing or movie night together.

Earlier today, he came beaming to you at your guys’ usual hang-out spot about how a coworker of his asked him out. The stars were fresh in the sky, the sun only had set a little bit ago. The wind was getting his thick curls messier than they already had been from his long work day. He squinted while looking for you and immediately smiled when he found you. The last thing you would’ve expected was for him to tell you about going on a date with his coworker, let alone someone he barely knew.

He was doing his usual when he was excited; talking with his hands, exaggerating his facial expressions, changing his tone with each little word.

As much as you were admiring him at that moment, it did wring your heart dry. Hearing him ramble about how excited, happy, and confident he was about this date felt like a stab in the chest. You didn’t know why.

You had never felt the need to stop him from doing something. Hell, you always encouraged Steven to follow his heart and do what he desired. At that moment, you were regretting it heavily. All the encouragement. All the praising. All the pep talks. All of it led up to him accepting a date with one of his damn coworkers.

“You alright? Got something bothering you, mate? Hello,” he had asked with concern. He stopped with the exaggeration for a second to check up on you. You couldn’t convince yourself that man didn’t have feelings for you. Yet, you shook your head no and shrugged your shoulders. You hated having to lie to him or try to shove your feelings to the side. “It’s nothing. Just happy for you! I can’t believe someone finally asked you out,” you explained to him with your hand on his bicep. It lingered there for a moment before slowly sliding down to his forearm, and wrist, and settling on his hand. His pulse was a little fast as you had felt it throb under your thumb. Both of you gave each other an unnecessarily long but welcomed gaze. His pulse quickened.

Steven got a bit flushed and instinctively pulled his hand out from under your palm. The bench beneath your hand was cold and wet from the rain earlier today. You were already missing the warmth of his flesh, but he was right fucking in front of you.

“Why does this hurt so bad,” you ask yourself now as you sit on your bed. You’ve been asking yourself this since you got back to your flat. You’re beating yourself up for thinking about him so much. “That bitch doesn’t even know him! I don’t know why she thinks she deserves a second of his time. She’s not nearly enough for him. She’s not good enough for him,” you growl to yourself in anger. Out of your rage, you start to do something that you never do unless Steven’s over. You grab some popcorn, slam it in the microwave, and impatiently get your couch ready for a movie marathon.

“I bet he only gave her a chance because she’s so far out of his league that he would’ve felt bad about rejecting her. Maybe Donna treats her better than she treats Steven so she’s using him to get some praise and maybe a promotion,” you mutter through gritted teeth while walking around your flat, tossing pillows and throwing blankets onto your couch.

Then comes a knock. You and Steven’s knock. The one that lets you two know you’re the one who’s knocking. Your rage pauses as you stand there in silence. “Hiya… The date didn’t go too well, just letting you know. I’ll be in my flat if you need me,” he explains to you before you hear him walk off. Your heart that was previously wrung of all concern for him as he explained the situation to you earlier soaked up his words like a sponge.

You internally debated what the best thing to do would be. However, your brain interrupts itself when the microwave begins beeping. A groan leaves your lips as you shuffle over to grab the popcorn. You hold the bag in your hands before realizing that this is the solution. This was what would help Steven feel better. A movie marathon together. You and him alone, cuddled up on the couch, snacking on popcorn, making the dumbest comments as you both watch.

You take no time throwing on your pajamas, grabbing your phone, and getting anything else you need while the popcorn cools on the counter. It almost falls on the floor when you try to grab it the first time, but you thankfully catch it. You run out your door, walk a few feet, and knock on Steven’s. “Steven, can we have a movie night together? Please,” you plead. You know he can be a bit selfless sometimes, but you need him to know you’re concerned about him right now. No excuses, no lies. “I just wanna do something to cheer you up. You sounded so sad when you were at my door earlier. I’m sorry for not answering. I’m here for you now,” you anxiously ramble before his figure greets you. “Guess it wouldn’t hurt. Don’t have work tomorrow either,” he comments as the slightest smile begins to creep onto his face.

The two of you let out a deep sigh once you’re settled on his bed. He explained he didn’t want to sit on the couch because he wanted to be comfortable. Feeling pity for him, you quickly accepted his request for you guys to get cozy under his covers.

“There we go! Much better, yeah,” he asks while looking at you. Despite Steven’s flat being dark aside from his laptop screen, his eyes seem to be softer. His gaze reminds you of the moment you shared earlier. His flesh getting warmer. His pulse throbbed quicker under your touch.

“Now, let me just get my computer going,” he murmurs, pulling you out of your memories. You smile back at him and nod softly. A soft giggle leaves your lips as he awkwardly pushes it to you. As much as a nerd he is, he’s never been tech-savvy. You quickly start up the movie while Steven moves back and forth on his thighs. Once it loads, you push the computer in front of you two and pull the covers over your lap.

In due time, you and Steven finally cuddle against each other. Your knees are tucked up under your stomach with your shins pressed against his thighs. Your arms loosely circle his hips while one of his hands is settled on your waist. Your head rests against his bicep. The only sounds that fill his flat are the movie’s audio, sheets ruffling, wind whistling against the window and the sound of deep breathing.

“I wanna let you know I’m sorry for ignoring my feelings,” Steven starts. You don’t look up at him but still display a confused expression on your face. “I love you. I have loved you. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner,” he says. You can feel his skin begin to heat. Before he can start to verbally apologize and insist he didn’t mean it, you let him know what you’ve wanted to say for a while. “I love you too, Steven,” you assure him. You lean forward, pressing yourself against his thigh and torso to give his lips a soft and gentle kiss. He kisses you back with the same loving energy. It’s a back-and-forth of soft pecks and lingering kisses before both of you grow too tired to continue. You fall asleep with your limbs tangled with one another’s, finally at peace with your feelings for each other.

MARC SPECTOR .

Anxious. If there was one word to describe Marc Spector when he’s around you, it would be anxious. Sweaty palms, clammy hands, flickering gaze, and an inability to be still. He started acting this way when both of you had a conversation about your mutual feelings.

It’s been almost a month since that conversation. Now the two of you sat at the warm, homey restaurant that wasn’t too far from his flat. Marc’s gaze was pitiful. He looked at you with his big, brown eyes that were all glossy from the reflection of the light.

“You look amazing tonight, love,” he told you tenderly. Your cheeks warm before you attempt to return the compliment. “And I could say the same. You always look so good no matter what you wear,” you beamed.

He reached his hand on top of the table, beckoning your own to join his. You chuckle softly and put your palm against his. His fingers make their way under your hand until they meet his thumb to carefully wrap around yours. He slowly runs his thumb against the soft flesh between two of your fingers. You sigh at the gentle gesture. Even before the shared confession, Marc was always prone to being gentle with you, whether it was his words or his actions.

Both of your eyes shared the same sight. A warm meal in front of you, the light from the inside of the restaurant shining perfectly onto your lover’s face, and the most welcoming hand lovingly wrapped around your own. None of this felt real. This must’ve been what Marc felt like all the time; terrified that this was just a dream or a hallucination. Luckily both of those anxieties were false. Neither of you had anything to worry about. Both of you were real and both of you were here to stay with each other.

After a few minutes of admiration and silence, you slip your hand away from his so you can both begin to eat. Hums and quiet groans of satisfaction leave your lips. Despite the restaurant not being a main chain, it had some of the best damn food you’ve ever eaten. It doesn’t even take you two hours to finish your meals. You and Marc have decided that you’ll each pay half if the two of you plan a date together, rather than on your own. He holds your hand while you walk over to the side of the street, hailing a taxi for you two.

Now the two of you are at his apartment complex. You immediately notice his anxious mannerisms getting more apparent. “Is something wrong, Marc,” you ask sweetly, not wanting to assume anything. “Yeah. I’m fine, darling,” he assured you, nervously biting his bottom lip. You squeeze his hand a bit to remind him that you love him. He squeezes back with a bit more force.

The elevator takes you up to his floor. He fumbles with his keys as you guys make your way to his flat. “Give me a second,” he mutters while fumbling with his key ring. He gets the key in and takes a deep breath before turning it to open the door. His expression tells you that his mind is racing with unwelcome thoughts. “Come on in,” he says hesitantly while motioning you to go in as he takes the key from the lock.

You’re somewhat confused. Marc had never let you come over to his flat. You assumed that his mental illness caused his place to be a bit of a wreck, maybe he found the state of it embarrassing, or he simply liked being at your place more. Your brows furrow as you take in the area. It isn’t nearly as bad as you expected it to be. Sure the whole flat has papers and books scattered across it, but not in a way that makes it look like a mess. However, Marc quickly objects to your internal dialogue as if he could read your mind.

“Shit,” he muttered. “I know it’s a mess. I’m sorry. I didn’t have time to clean up before we just spontaneously planned our date tonight,” he groaned wearily, running a hand through his hair. “Marc, don’t say that. Your flat is just about as messy as mine. Plus, I don’t expect you to have a picture-perfect place! You live here. It’ll get a little messy from day-to-day life,” you told him with a soft smile. You set down the bag you’d brought to stay the night before walking over to him. Your arms encircled his waist and rested at the small of his back. His muscles tensed in response to your touch. You leaned your head to press your face against his chest. “I promise it’s fine. I already feel at home,” you hummed while adding a bit of pressure to your embrace. He sighed deeply before giving in to your reassurance. He nodded his head in agreement and returned the gentle gesture. His arms reached from his sides to your neck, one hand tracing circles on your shoulder blade while the other rubbed the back of your head. He tilted your head up from his chest and smiled. “There’s that stunning face I love so much,” he cooed softly before kissing your forehead. “Do you ever stop,” you tease while cocking your head to the side. “What? Loving you? Never,” he replied before giving you a quick squeeze.

The next few minutes are the most soothing and peaceful you’ve had in a long time. The way Marc holds you feels so protective and safe. Your shared body warmth helps both of you melt into each other. His heart beats heavily in his chest while you press your bodies together. A soft, slow sway is shared between you. Heavy breathing, quiet mumbles of only the most tender words, hands fiddling with the fabric of the other’s clothes.

“You ready for bed yet, baby,” he asks softly, leaning forward to whisper to you. He gently kisses your neck while awaiting your answer. Your hand reaches up to play with his dark curls and you begin to hum with satisfaction from the kisses. “Mm. I guess,” you drag out in a sigh. “Let’s get you to bed then,” he mumbles. Before leading you to his bed, Marc smiles against your neck, giving the soft skin a small nip.

You manage to maneuver over to his bed as he continues to stay glued to you. He turns you around and flops back on his bed, pulling you on top of him securely. You let out a bit of a yell when he does that. He pulls his arms tighter around your waist and kisses the nape of your neck. “Fuck. That feels so good,” he groans. This man loves having you close, having you lay on him, smelling you, sweet things like that. However, they all came from a deep-rooted fear of losing you or that you’re simply a hallucination. So any time he convinces, or forces, you to lay on top of him, he is in utter bliss.

You start to get a little antsy in his grasp. His arms hold you tightly, but you still tilt side to side. “Marc! You can let me go now,” you exclaim playfully. He grunts in disagreement. “I’m not letting you go.” You sigh softly before moving all of your weight to one side. As expected his arms stay around your waist. He was insistent on not letting you go.

“You win,” you groan softly. He moves his body so he can rest his head on the crook of your neck. “I know, darling. Now we can go to sleep since we have that settled,” he hums against your skin. Both of you fall asleep entangled with each other. His arms stay around your waist like a harness as your hands lay on top of his.

JAKE LOCKLEY .

You and Jake had a date arranged. It was more of him planning a surprise for you and you agreeing to it. Nonetheless, you were intensely excited.

As he requested, you packed a bag to stay the night at his place and had your pajamas on. It was a bit suspicious. You had high hopes that he wasn’t going to attempt to take you somewhere in the state you're in right now. You’ve continually had a habit of doing one or two little things just to make sure you felt attractive. As you thought about how Jake loved to fuck around with you, he never did it in a publicly humiliating way. The idea was swift to flee your mind as briefly as it came.

You hear a hard and heavy knock on your door that made you gasp. That was definitely him. The way he’d knock so harshly never failed to get a reaction out of you. You shake your head in disapproval while moving to grab your bag. “I’ll be there in a second, Jake,” you shout to him. “Hurry up, precioso! I want to see that face I’ve missed so much,” he weeps almost childishly. You roll your eyes at his pouting while hauling your bag to your door. You open it and snicker to yourself. He was wearing his pajama just like you were. He definitely had a good plan for the two of you.

“There’s my favorite cabbie,” you beam, your hands quickly reaching to his face. His stubble prickles your hand and presses harder against it when he smiles lovingly at you, his teeth displayed just for his lover. You cant help but smile back at him with the same amount of love on your lips. Your thumbs rub along his cheekbone before you lean forward to kiss him. He hums against your lips before both of you pull back. You move your hands from his stubble inhabited face, down to his chest. His own hand move to rest on your hips, treating them like handles for his hands to hold on to. “I guess you beat me to our little kiss this time. I bet you a back rub that I’ll get you first next time, cariño,” he promised you playfully. You knew he would because he stayed true to his word when it came to you. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t challenge his words. “Sure you will,” you replied.

He led you to his taxi, smiling and rambling about his little surprise the whole way there. You loved the way the would talk to you when you didn’t give him any feedback. You could swear on your life that if you never spoke again, he would still find some way to keep talking to you. Once the two of you reached his taxi, he dramatically cleared his throat. “Don’t even try, ángel,” he quips with the assumption that you would try to open the door for yourself like you did last time, which ended in a horribly long lecture about how you deserve to be treated like royalty. You feign disappointment as he politely walks you to the passenger side of the car. Before your hand can even reach the handle in attempts to mess with him, he grabs your hand and clicks his tongue at you. “Dios mío,” he mutters before opening the door for you. “Now you can get in,” he says while motioning for you to enter the car. Just to make Jake sure that you won’t keep playing with him, you gently hold his free hand so you can safely step into the vehicle without tripping. “Safety first,” he hums before grabbing the seatbelt and buckling you in. He leans down to kiss your cheek before shutting the door. He enters the driver’s side rather quickly as if he’s in a rush. “Let’s get going,” he says happily as he begins driving his taxi.

During the drive to wherever Jake is taking you, he keeps asking you question after question. “How was your day?” “Did work go well for you?” “You remember that I love you, right, mi vida?” You groan, chuckle, sigh, give any reaction you can to his questions. “Jake! Enough with the questions,” you tease as you softly nudge his arm. “I’ve told you anything you could ask about me. I swear you’ve got enough information to write a biography on me,” you continue with a playful smile. “Okay, okay, my apologies, precioso,” he chuckles in response to your teasing before he parks in front of a tall building. “But there’s one more question I have to ask you. I promise it’s the last one for now,” he swears while holding your hand for a genuine effect. “Wanna have a sleepover,” he asks with that same goofy grin on his face from earlier. He smiles so hard and hopefully that his mustache pushes up against his nose. “Please,” he asks sweetly while squeezing your hand. You return the happy expression and nod in agreement. That was his plan this whole time. Get you dressed up nice and cozy in your pajamas, drive you to his apartment at night on a route you haven’t been through before, and invite you to have a damn sleepover. God, you couldn’t get enough of this man and his stupidly tender ideas. “Yeah, we can have a sleepover,” you chuckle softly.

Once you two reach his flat he opens the door, like a gentleman of course, for you. You thank him with a kiss on the cheek that earns you a soft smile and a thanks of his own. “Where should I set my stuff,” you ask him awkwardly. “Give it here, hermoso,” he says, practically beaming at the idea of helping you once more. Without hesitation you hand the bag over to him. He takes it and sets it under his desk before sitting on his bed and waving you over with his arms. “Come on, doll. I’m not going to bite you,” he pouts before he begins to grasp the air like you’re just out of reach. You sigh at his whining and walk over to his bed with a smile.

He doesn’t even let you sit down before he clings to you. He pulls you between his legs by the waist as you stand in front of him, letting out a soft gasp when he does so. He slightly lifts your shirt up, just enough so your stomach is exposed. He sighs softly before leaning forward to press his face against it. “Muy bueno,” he purrs as he feels the warmth of your stomach heat his face. He hums with his cheek pressed to your stomach as his hands slide up and down the back of your thighs. You can’t do anything except bite the inside of your cheek and blush as he continues. “Tan bueno para mí,” he praises, emphasizing that it’s for him. “Jake,” you whine softly. He lets out a soft grunt in response. “I’d prefer if you let me lay down before I faint from how affectionate you’re being,” you plead to him. Out of respect for you, he sighs and releases you from his grasp. You ruffle his hair a bit before crawling under the covers and awaiting for him to do the same. He follows soon after, now looking at you with those gorgeous brown eyes of his. He pulls you flush against him with his arms crossed behind your back. “You never said anything about not giving you affection while you lay down,” he says playfully while smiling. You’re already flushed again just by the idea. He shifts a bit further up along the bed so he can begin to shower you with love.

He starts at your forehead, pecking every inch of skin he can get. His hands crawl up from your shoulder blades to the back of your head so he can caress you loving and hold you in place. He moves to your cheeks and nose, hands coming to cup your face. He kisses from your left cheek, kisses your nose once before pausing for a moment to make some savory eye contact, then moves on to your right cheek. He pulls back for a second and you give each other a knowing look. “Please,” you whisper to him in a gentle tone. “Anything for you, mi corazón,” he mutters back. His hands come to cup your jaw on either side, thumbs brushing your cheeks as his other fingers lightly grasp the area behind your ears. He kisses your lips softly before pulling back. You give him a pitiful look before kissing him back. You keep going at it with each other, eventually letting the kisses linger for a few seconds, then adding your tongues into the mix. It’s a little messy, but it’s so tender. “I love you more than anything, mi vida. Anything,” he says to you before kissing you one last time, lips pressed to yours as if they’re a lifeline for him. You hum softly in satisfaction as he shifts your body for you, pressing your head to his chest and resting his chin on top of your head. He traces shapes with his fingers and scratches your back gently until you’re asleep in his secure embrace.

[thoughtsforsoob]

im thinking about y/n fucking CEO yeonjun for a raise

CEO!YEONJUN X F!READER

a/n: hello anon!! thank you for the ask :) I usually wouldn’t write something like this (because I’m a strong independent woman that has tons of self respect) but for yeonjun I’d do pretty much anything 🥰 that’s my man right there. Anyways, please enjoy!!

You had just graduated college not so long ago and you were finally out looking for a job! You managed to secure your first position at your first choice company, working as a software developer! you were so proud of yourself and you were happy to finally be able to be independent and support yourself. You had a small apartment and nice things in said apartment but sometimes, you wish you had a little more money to save and to use to go out with your friends once in a while. hence why, after about 6 months, you go in to have a netting with your boss: yeonjun.

you were nervous about this meeting for a few different reasons. Yeonjun was a really handsome individual. Like…so handsome that he border-lined sexy. How could you possibly think of your boss this way? That’s so wrong! You did your best to avoid him because everytime you spoke to him, your cheeks and ears would go bright red and he could see your shyness.

Now, you were stepping into his office after his receptionist said you could. You took a breath before opening the door and finally walked in. There he was, in his usual fancy work attire, looking sexy as always. He was wearing a black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and his usual black slacks. He never wore fancy shoes though, always opting for vans or converse that also came in black. That made him a little less intimidating but still, you were no less nervous to speak to him.

He smiled when he saw it was you and other you to take a seat. “Oh y/n, come on in. Take a seat! Would you like anything to drink?” You shake your head no and he looks at you still. “So, tell me what you’re in for today? Is everything alright around the office?” You look down at your hands and then up at him, “yeah, everything in the office is okay. I kinda needed to ask more of a personal question.” Yeonjun nods and you ask your question. “A raise? Well, you have been doing really well. You’re probably one of our best employees.” Your eyes go wide and you smile. “Really? Does that mean you’ll consider a raise? Even if it’s a small one. I kinda need it.” He looks at you and thinks for a second, “well, maybe I’ll consider if you do something for me.” You were curious as to what he wanted so you asked him and you were shocked to hear his answer. “Just have sex with me. I think you’re really beautiful. If you do it, I’ll give you a $10 raise.” Your eyes get bigger at his offer. A whole ten extra dollars an hour??? That would be plenty to save up for that new hand bag you wanted!

you usually had a little more self-respect than this but you couldn't help it. the offer was too good to pass up no matter what you had to do. thats how you find yourself bent over your bosses desk, skirt bunched up at your waist and panties pooling at your ankles. he's standing behind you, teasing you dripping slit with his erection. he's smirking and using his free hand to caress your ass. "so pretty. how did i not ask for this sooner?"

he finally decided to stop teasing and pushing himself inside of you. you whine at the sudden intrustion and he leans over, grabbing one of your hands and intertwing it with his. "its okay, sweet girl. no need to whine. it's not gonna hurt for long." he kisses your cheek and pulls back to his previous position. when you tell him it was okay to move, he finally starts to thrust. he goes gently the whole time and calls you such pretty names. "such a beautiful girl taking it so well. you like this, hmm? when a big, important man treats you nicely?"

he continues his movements until you starts whining to cum. "mm sir...please. wanna-" you were cut off by his groan. "sir? you called me sir? say it again." he sniffle from the tears falling from your eyes, "sir! please!" he groans again and leans over again, getting closer to your face. "cum for me, pretty. wanna see that gorgeous face." with his words, you were sent overthe edge and finally let go. you cry out at the euphoric feeling and yeonjun continues to thrust, pulling out when he's ready to cum. he pumps himself a few more times and cums all over your ass. he smirks when he sees his work.

when you're done, you attempt to put your clothes back on buthe stops you. "hey, what are you doing? let me take care of you." you were suprised by this and turned, "sir, are you sure? you don;t have to do that. i understand if you don't have time for me beyond this." he shakes his head and chuckles, "i don't just have sex with anyone. what if i liked you and wanted to take you on a date? what wold you say?" you look at his eyes and they were sincere. "mm fine. lets go on a date." he smiled and kissed your cheek.

once he finally cleans you up and dresses you once again, he escorts you out of his offce with a wink and his phone number now in your phone.