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#but to everyone who Does have that feeling big hug.
kitkat13001 · 2 days
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✶⋆.˚ 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎
>> xiao x adeptus!reader
>> reader and xiao are old friends
though adeptus xiao maintains a semi-permanent residence in the attic room of the wangshu inn, he spends most of his time abroad hunting monsters. the room itself is plain in nature, only bearing a small bed, straw mat, a nightstand, and a small table in the corner. the basic necessities for living—though with the bareness of the room it’s hard to tell anyone does stay there. 
xiao does not have any true home. wangshu inn is merely a place he goes to rest once he’s done his job. 
xiao has grown used to his solitude—so much so that when you show up on the roof of wangshu inn he’s surprised. he’d forgotten his existence wasn’t null to everyone.
he’s flooded with memories as you hug him and smile so brightly, just as greetings with an old and dear friend should go. it takes a moment for xiao to even muster up a hello. after all, it’s been decades since he’s even seen you. but every time you smile it feels as though no time has passed at all. 
you need a place to stay, you explain, since the mountains became too stuffy and you decided to explore the world on your own. you'd ended up in the plains of liyue and sensed an incredibly familiar presence. upon your questioning of locals and being told of ‘some mysterious figure who lives in the attic’ and ‘a spirit who fights monsters in the hills’ you knew it was xiao and had come to see him. 
the first few days are a little odd. you come and go as you please, leaving xiao’s things untouched and spending most of your time down in the inn or out and about in liyue. xiao maintains his normal schedule of hunting and fighting monsters. he only returns at night (sometimes not even then), and by then you’re fast asleep in his bed. it makes it a little easier for him to crawl in beside you, knowing you can’t see his burning red cheeks.
but slowly, things begin to change.
xiao comes back one night, and his bed is made. strange, because verr goldet ensures no one go up in the attic to clean or any other such task. his bed is never made unless xiao himself makes it (which he never does). 
upon further inspection, the covers on the bed are not even his. in place of the plain white sheets is a fluffy white comforter and pale blue throw blanket. there’s two pillows instead of one. 
it’s your doing—that much is clear. but when he’d agreed to let you stay, he didn’t think you would seem so comfortable in his space. with him. and he didn’t think he would be so content to allow it. 
the changes don’t stop at the covers. in fact, the entire bed is replaced with a larger, more comfortable one the next time he’s home. when confronted, you just shrug and smile a devious little smile, telling him that it’s easier to upgrade the bed to fit both of you than to go out and find yourself a whole separate bed. your eyes gleam with satisfaction at the red dusting his cheeks. 
after the bed, there’s a rug. an ornamental rug with swirling patterns in your favorite color. xiao nearly scoffs when he sees it. you could never resist buying anything in that color. that much is proved when a tea set painted with that same shade appears on his little corner table. he just sighs a little. tea would go well with almond tofu, at least. 
other things begin to appear in the little room. despite it filling up, the room actually feels bigger. cozier, maybe is the word he’s searching for. strange, because ‘cozy’ is a foreign word and feeling to the mighty adeptus xiao.
a mirror in the shape of a heart, a set of candles, a ‘prettier’ nightstand. curtains, more rugs, paintings, calligraphy. 
things you’d picked up at the market, or while you were at the harbor. each addition always came bearing some kind of funny story or anecdote that you're all too happy to recount over almond tofu and sweet tea. 
you don’t mind, do you? you always ask, big eyes fluttering and lips pouting. and xiao always says no. and strangely, he means it. 
over the span of just a few weeks, the room is practically unrecognizable. it looked like a nice liyue apartment instead of the attic of an inn. it looked like a home. 
and xiao finds himself coming home every night, no longer staying out in the plains so late. taking days to rest at your insistence. having evening tea with you on the roof. 
you travel together now, xiao ever so hesitantly agreeing to go to the harbor with you. just this once, he says. only at night, and in the least crowded parts. and you agree with a smile. 
you’re sitting on the docks, legs swinging over the edge and watching the moon reflect off the water and ships disappear over the horizon. 
xiao looks over at you for a moment, and his breath hitches at how breathtaking you look in the moonlight.
eyes shining and reflecting the glowing sea, hair dancing in the slight breeze, lips settled into a soft smile. 
xiao comes to a realization that night, as you drag him around by the hand as you laugh, taking him to all of your favorite spots. 
it’s not the attic that feels like home, cozy as it may be. it’s you. 
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carcinized · 2 years
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just saw the tiktok stuff & wtf 😭 fuck dream honest to god
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dwtolos · 2 months
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started watching another home makeover show and it hit me once again how much I want an AU where George and Sapnap are the hosts of a 'siblings getting their own rooms' show (they compete on which room suits their respective kid best) and Dream is one of the cameramen who ended up commenting out loud about something so he ends up being a faceless fan favorite. George does flirt with Dream a lot. Sapnap is very tired of it. They also compete about which room Dream would like the best, which is not the point of the show but in their hearts it is.
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dylanconrique · 2 years
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i need lucy to be taken care of. she always goes so far out of her way to help others in need and i love that about her, but i don't think she's had a real break since her recovery from being kidnapped and so much has happened to her since then that i just need her to be hugged and taken care of. not only by tim, but by everyone else too. 🥺💗
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nmakii · 7 months
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GETTING CAUGHT IN THE MOMENT… LIPSTICK ON YOUR FACE
— alastor + lucifer + vox getting caught with lipstick stains all over them…
— generally gn!reader. guys can wear lipstick too smh
hehe i got a new lip tint (˶‾᷄ ⁻̫ ‾᷅˵) maybe alastor’s part is a little self-projected
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— alastor
alastor himself isn’t one for physical affection. in fact, the thought itself makes him feel dirty. someone else’s skin against his… eugh…
though, when it came to you, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself; hands clawing and playing with your hair, wrapping his arms around your neck, pinching your cute cheeks, holding your hand… it’s almost as if he’d double-die without you near!
and the only thing he’d enjoy more than that would be having his affection reciprocated; interlocking your arm with his, a surprise hug from behind, a kiss on the cheek, they are all more than appreciated! especially the thing about kissing…
a kiss from you is simply just exhilarating. the suddenness yet sweetness of it, it’s truly the purest form of love, regardless of if it’s familial, romantic, or platonic— it’s the purest expression of your love for another person.
so, just imagine alastor’s reaction to your new lipstick, strawberry red to give your lips a glossy color, yet still light enough to appear natural. the pretty hue of red complimenting your face features perfectly by giving it the color it needs as to not appear pale.
absolutely gorgeous. so confusing how a simple amount of color could make you look as if you were an angel from heaven itself. you quite literally took his breath away from just applying a new lipstick…
at some point, alastor had reached some sort of limit when he finally caved into his inner desires, bringing you to a secluded place in the hotel, his hands moving to your hips and hair.
he couldn’t wait any longer to place his lips on your’s, your lipstick smearing all over his thin lips. kissing him from his cheeks to his jawline, leaving light pink stains all over his skin.
he groaned at the feeling of wet lipstick all over his face, and at the same time reveled in the ways you are telling everyone that the only one who could see the radio demon in such a needy and doe-like state would be you; he’d be yours to fool around with, and yours to do however you’d see fit. just as you are his— no one else’s. the smeared lipstick on the side of your lips should send that as a statement enough to whatever lowlife hooligan would even attempt to sweep you off your feet.
when the two of you had returned, it was a strange sight to say the least… alastor’s face and jaw covered with pink lips, and you with your lipstick smudged and smeared off your lips, instead all over you neck.
“well, uh… you two look like ‘ya had lot’sa fun…” angel said monotonously, awkwardly trying to keep up conversation. “ohh, most certainly!” alastor grinned, his transatlantic accent popping through the radio static.
he knows he could’ve wiped it off… he has a handkerchief in his back pocket, he could’ve easily saved himself that awkward conversation.
but, he didn’t.
could you blame him? he wants all of hell to know that both you and him off-limits for good.
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— lucifer
when many imagine the king of hell, it’s hard to think he’d be a social piranha. the same case had gone for you.
who knew lucifer was still as pure of heart as he was during his time in heaven? and who knew he’d fall for someone so easily after the sudden disappearance of his wife?
when he saw you, it was practically love at first sight! your big eyes, your shiny hair, and those big pretty lips of yours that he just wanted to kiss so badly…
he listened carefully as charlie introduced you to him, trying to remember every detail about you and every feature on your face, stuttering over his words once it was time to speak for himself.
and somehow, despite his meekness towards you and your awkwardness whenever he was around, you two ended up in a relationship— with the help of vaggie and charlie’s meddling in pushing you two together.
the two of you loved each other, of course… but it was always hard to express. the only way lucifer knew how to show his love was through his presence and gifts. he wasn’t hell’s greatest kisser, but he tries.
and, today— it was your 5 month anniversary… quite a long time, the hotel’s been good so far, no major threats other than one of cherri bomb’s occasional explosions. and because of how long it’s been, you decided to do something a little special… put on some relatively expensive clothes and make-up your face a little bit.
when lucifer saw you all dolled up, he was honestly a little stunned. lips as red as an apple, hair as soft as silk, the words were stuck in his mouth. “w- er- wow..! i’m not dressed up or anything— agh, this is awkward..” lucifer muttered. “hey, it’s ok… this was a surprise for you, y’know?” you said, comforting him slightly.
“you look… stunning today” he smiled, carefully putting down his anniversary present for you on his work desk, still wrapped in a red ribbon. he made his way to you, hands making their way to your cheeks to softly cup them as he gently leaned into you for a kiss.
he released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding as you kissed his face all over, as if healing the wounds of his past with his present. his banishment into hell, lilith’s abandonment, they all didn’t matter anymore, you are the present and the future.
he wrapped his arms around your waist in a hug as he kissed your forehead, the residual lipstick from his lips smeared onto you.
lucifer laughed awkwardly before using his finger to carefully rub off the pink stains on your forehead. “haha… c’mon, i got a dinner reservation in the lust ring tonight…” he laughed, interlocking his arm with yours.
“don’t you wanna take off that lipstick on your face first?” you raised an eyebrow at him. “i mean… i dont minddd… so, it’s only if you wanna take if off” his eyes wandered, his cheeks growing flustered “hmm… nah. i want everyone to know you belong to me now.” you grinned mischievously.
and when the two of you walked out of the hotel lobby, charlie went to wish you a safe trip and happy anniversary before she noticed the stains on her dad’s face. “err… dad..? you gotta a little something there…” charlie muttered as she pointed all over his face. “ah..? yeah, i know” he laughed it off, proudly showing off to hell how hopelessly devoted he is to you.
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— vox
vox was a busy man. from having many public appearances, to coming up with new ideas for voxtek, to putting out valentino’s temper tantrums, he barely had the time for romance.
barely. he loved you, truly. he keeps you dear to his heart, no matter how busy he’d be, vox would still make time for you late at night.
everyone had known you, why wouldn’t they? you’re the partner of one of the most influential overlords in hell, that’s a feat that is amazing to accomplish, dating vox in itself has made you into a sort of local celebrity; causing you to be invited to many galas, parties, and occasional raves.
and tonight happened to be the night of one of those parties. zestial had invited you to a formal dinner party, an all star guest list filled by many of the goetic princes, various overlords in hell, and other local hellborns such as verosika mayday.
“please, voxxx? just this once, it’s only like 3 hours!” you grumble as your apply a coat of ruby red over your lips, checking your appearance in the bathroom mirror. “i can’t.. i have a 5:00 with val and velvette, then after that, a board meeting about new gadgets to release…” vox groaned, already pissed about the day ahead.
“fine then, your loss.” you pouted, rolling your eyes as you left the bathroom and into the bedroom. “holy shit…” vox sighed out. “you look… really good, my love.” he walked over to you, his hands moving to your body, outlining the clothes’ stitching as he recognized it to be the one he had custom-made for you.
your hands rested on vox’s shoulders, forcibly making him lean over a bit before leaving various kiss stains all over his screen.
vox visibly tensed as his screen started glowing a bright teal, showing his clear embarrassment as pink smudges fogged his screen.
his breath heaved as his hands moved all around your body, desperate to find some kind of relief to his pent-up stress.
ending your kiss attack all too soon on his lips, you pulled away, your lips slightly pale now as you grinned at him. “spend the day looking like that and i’ll give you more after work” you winked, taking your belongings and leaving out the door, leaving a flustered vox in your bedroom, covered with lipstick stains.
“vox… the fuck is going on with your face?” velvette snarled. “it looks as if you got fucking mauled by a bear pretending to be a woman.” she yelled, her british accent making her trip over some consonants.
vox sighed, hearing valentino mutter some sort of dirty comparison of vox to a prostitute. “instead of focusing on me, why don’t you put your efforts into our agenda today?” vox frowned, his tone clearly saying that he’s holding himself back from releasing a flood of curses onto the two…
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gemini-sensei · 10 months
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Thinking about bimbo!Reader who is everyone's stress relief toy again. (Includes girlcock!Tory and girlcock!Sam)
Everyone at the dojo just uses her to blow off steam at one point or another. She's there for that reason alone because she's crap at karate. She doesn't mind though, she's helping her friends after all. So what if Tory is a little rough with her? She loves it! So what if her jaw is sore after Demetri accidentally gags her on his cock? She loves it! So what if her ass is raw after Miguel is done after she's already gone limp and tired? Still she loves it!
Eventually it evolves into everyone having fun with her because Reader knows how to have a good time. Sure, she's still hanging around for that stress relief, but she's also picked up on what everyone likes 😏 so she makes sure everyone is satisfied too. Sam comes to her often because she's "always tense" an excuse Reader catches onto knowing she just wants to get her dick wet. Robby enjoys the gentler side of things and is always in need of attention, fucking and cuddling afterwards always makes him happy. Hawk comes around all the time because he loves hitting it from behind or having sloppy make out sessions with Reader, when he gets to grope and squeeze all her pudgy curves.
But one day she doesn't come to the dojo. And the next day she isn't there either. And the next day she doesn't show up.
By then everyone is worried, so the gang of friends go to check on her. Only to find her apartment is kind of a mess, which is usually isn't. Reader does pretty well at keeping her place clean. She's the only one living there after all.
They find her in her bedroom, curled up with a bucket. She's obviously not feeling well and when they ask her what's up she tells them that she's sick, probably with a stomach bug or something. Thinking that, she doesn't want them around in case she gets them sick. However, Sam and Robby want to help her feel better so they decide to make her some soup. Miguel helps by tidying up her apartment and giving it a nice sweeping. Hawk doesn't care if he gets sick, so he's right there with her helping her get some fresh clothes on and getting her a new bucket to puke in.
However, Demetri and Tory aren't so sure that it's just a stomach bug. So they make up an excuse to go to the store, saying they're gonna go get some over the counter meds for Reader. They are going to the store but not for meds.
They come back with five pregnancy tests, thanks to Demetri and his constant worrying. He wants to make sure that it's 100% accurate.
Reader has no idea why they would bring her pregnancy tests. She's not so sure of they're thinking. She just shrugs it off but everyone is telling her to take them.
So she does.
And one comes back positive. So she takes another one.
And it's positive.
And so is the next one.
And the next one.
And the next one...
She can't deny it and she starts crying. She doesn't understand how this happened, she's been on the pill. In tears, she makes herself throw up again and Sam helps her get cleaned up. They all try to calm her down but it doesn't work.
She doesn't calm down until Hawk has her in a big hug on her bed, sitting against the headboard with her laying back against his chest. He's so affectionate toward her, so is Miguel and Sam, so they're all over her. Meanwhile, Tory, Robby and Demetri are kind of awkwardly standing aside unsure of what to do. The three of them are also the ones freaking out on the inside the most, but they're trying not to let it show in front of Reader.
She starts getting worried because the baby could literally be any of theirs. She has no way of knows. There have been days she's fucked two of them, so it's literally a toss up as to who the baby's other parent could be.
However, none of them care about that. They only vare about Reader and how she's feeling about all of this, so they try to calm her down and stop thinking about frivolous stuff like who's baby it is. That isn't something they can work out right now, so they're not even worried about it. She's their #1 priority now, after all she's done for them - beyond the sex, she's been their friend and confidant, their rock, their biggest supporter. It's time they take care of her.
Sam is cuddled up to Reader, her head resting on her thighs as she holds her. Miguel is on her other side, head beside her belly that isn't showing yet. It's still soft and chubby, perfect to cuddle up to. Hawk is still holding her, one hand on her belly while his head rests on her shoulder. The three of them ensure she knows she's okay and don't let her talk badly about herself for not knowing who the other parent is. Hawk keeps kissing her cheek or neck, enough to tickle and it makes her laugh. Sam and Miguel give words of encouragement. It's way more than friendly that's for sure.
Meanwhile, in the background, Demetri and Troy are being more logical about it. They're kind of already getting into the money and doctors suddenly of things. Demetri is just drawn to researching everything he needs to know for all of this while Tory has pretty much already been a parent to her younger brother, so doctors don't worry her. It's money that worries her. And Robby. Poor Robby. They're also trying to calm his nerves. He's so worried.
None of them know what they're going to do but they're certain they're gonna figure it out. After all, they all love Reader, so why wouldn't they?
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senseichaos · 8 months
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HEADCANNONS
Dating Lucifer
NSFW AND SFW
Protective. He's insecure, right? So I think he's probably protective in the way where if you're somewhere where he isn't he'd text you once every five minutes checking up on you and asking where you are. He really wants you to be safe, as well.
Clingy, he likes you to be around him for as long as possible. He also loves it when you're attached to his hip, it makes him feel loved and appreciated in a way he can't describe.
When he met you stopped wearing his wedding ring so you wouldn't assume he was still with Lilith. He wanted to make the best impression, of course.
Touchy, he will often randomly squeeze your thigh or ruffle your hair in a fatherly manor. Or sometimes he'll just give you a random peck on the lips if he feels like it.
Made you a duck that looks like him so you can have him with you wherever you go, he's sort of sentimental like that.
Of course, sentimental. He loves to give you random items or even just food that he thinks you'll like, and he'll usually make a big prideful scene if you do the same for him.
If you're taller than him during sex you always have to be below him, he likes to feel big and powerful during sex.
DADDY KINK OKAY I SAID IT. He adoores it when you call him daddy, he absolutely ADORES it. He can't even explain why, just that feeling he gets whenever you do is like nothing else.
Likes to praise more than degrade during sex, but if he's in a mood could very much degrade you.
Likes it when you wear his clothes, specifically his hat. He likes to see you wearing things of his especially when you're out so everyone knows you're with him. People don't tend to mess with you anyway cause you're with him a lot of the time.
_________
Relationship overview
Relationship health: 95/100 (he could work on his attachment and clinginess issues, but depending on the partner, clinginess could be good or bad)
Relationship affection: 100/100 (He is so cuddly! Loves to touch you all the time! If he could he'd have you attached to him so he could hug you all day)
Relationship sex: 85:100 (doesn't always have the time or stamina, he is the ruler of hell of course)
Relationship love: 100/100 (he looooooves you :3 (all I have to say))
Relationship strength: 85/100 (he often worries that you're going to leave him which does put some pressure on you a lot)
Relationship overview: 93/100 (genuinely a nice guy who can sometimes be misunderstood. But he always has the best intentions!
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freelancearsonist · 2 months
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every breath you take
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➔ (no outbreak) Joel Miller x f!Reader
➔ 5.3k words
➔ Your dad is getting married to his soulmate and you have every intention of making it the perfect day. The only kink in your plan is your unexpected feelings for your soon-to-be stepdad’s best man.
➔ Rated MA // BILL X FRANK SUPREMACY. LONG LIVE BILL X FRANK. no outbreak, age gap (reader is early 20s, Joel is 45), unprotected p in v sex, creampie, fingering (reader receiving), references to masturbation (reader), pussy pronouns, pet names // reader has female anatomy (no body description but is generally able-bodied) and uses feminine pronouns, is Frank’s adopted daughter (written for all skin tones), wears makeup and a dress, has hair (unspecified length)
➔ Big big thank you to @sugarcoated-lame and @sunlightmurdock for this idea and letting me run with it (sorry it took 5 months 😂) this is psuedo-inspired by my own current activities as my best friend's moh which is why i haven't been super active in the past month or so, thank you to everyone for being so patient with me <33
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June, 2013.
After months of planning—stress, sweat, and tears abounding—the big night is here. Well, almost here. The actual wedding is tomorrow, but tonight is the rehearsal dinner; and as your adoptive dad has spent the entire preparatory period impressing upon you, the rehearsal might be even more important than the wedding itself.
With that in mind, you arrive at the venue a few hours early to assist with the set up. Seeing the unassembled pieces and parts of the event brings a smile to your face and a determination to your soul–you want this to be perfect. 
Someone else shares your determination, too.
You would’ve sworn, when you first met him, that an elaborate wedding would be the very last thing Bill would want. And yet this has been as much his planning as it has been your dad’s. It brings so much joy to your heart that your dad has found someone who matches him so completely. You couldn’t be happier for them; and at the same time, you couldn’t be more frustrated for yourself. Because, as dedicated as you are to making this day perfect for them, Bill’s best man and long-time friend is maybe even more dedicated. He’s been turning this wedding into a ‘friendly’ competition between the two of you, trying to one-up you at every opportunity he gets. It’s infuriating—especially when he wears that smug grin that’s become his signature expression around you. It’s torture, too, because all you want to do is kiss that stupid smirk right off his handsome face.
It’s unintentional on his part, you’re sure, but the tension is palpable enough to slice with a butter knife nonetheless. Today is no exception—he’s dressed for labor in worn jeans that are just a little too tight around his thighs and a faded Iron Maiden shirt that hugs his strong biceps. His hair is ruffled like he’s been tugging and running his hands through it, and it puts all kinds of indecent thoughts into your brain.
It’s wrong. The guy’s old enough to be your dad, and that’s aside from the fact that he’s your soon-to-be-stepdad’s best man. No self-respecting young woman should be looking at a guy who’s old enough to remember the Nixon administration the way you are right now. And yet…
“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he says in that drawl of his which makes you want to throw your sanity out the window and fall at his feet to worship the very ground he walks on.
You’ve never hated Joel Miller more than you do right now. 
Regardless, you greet him with the sweetest smile you can muster. “Good morning. I didn’t know you’d be here this early.”
“Well, rehearsal’s as important as the weddin’ itself,” he dutifully repeats the line that you’ve heard from your dad a million times over. “And this barn ain’t gonna decorate itself.”
“Well, that’s kinda my job,” you remind him, hoping your tone sounds more annoyed to him than it does to you. 
He flashes that boyish smile that no middle-aged man should be able to master, and it makes your heart skip a beat. “Can’t let you have all the fun, can I?”
You want to grumble about it. You want to be annoyed by this goofy-ass forty-five year old man and his stupid competitive streak. Instead, your mouth betrays you by smiling. “I appreciate the help.”
“Anytime, sweetheart.” He punctuates it with a wink, and you consider just falling onto the ground and perishing. Instead, you roll up your shirt sleeves and get to work.
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The fruits of your labor are well worth the effort they take. You feel a heady sense of pride when you look around at all the decor–as long as this barn has been a wedding venue, you’re certain no one’s ever made it look this good before.
The tables are arranged neatly in rows, draped with luxurious white tablecloths and topped with neat arrangements of greenery in the centers. The seating chart that Bill and Frank worked so meticulously on is put into effect with hand-written placards designating each chair to an occupant. Strings of white globe lights hang from the rafters and cast a hazy, reverent glow over the entire barn. Everything is the perfect mix of modern and rustic.
Outside on the lawn, rows of neatly arranged chairs line a petal-scattered aisle. Everything leads to the focal point–an eight-foot high arch wrapped generously in green vines and white blossoms. It’s definitely the highlight of the entire thing, which irks you just the slightest bit–it was solely Joel’s vision. Apparently, he’s a lot more artistic than you’ve ever given him credit for. It tracks, you suppose; construction is an artform if you really think about it. He uses his hands to create just like a sculptor, but to a larger scale. And those hands are capable; you’ve seen exactly how much they can move or carry and you wonder if they could–
You shake off that train of thought before it can go any further. If you can’t get yourself under control you’re going to start wearing a rubberband on your wrist that you can snap every time your thoughts about Joel stray into the ‘things you shouldn’t be thinking about a middle-aged man’ category.
He certainly has aged like fine wine for a forty-five-year-old man, though…
Snap.
With a sigh, you give your head a shake in hopes of clearing your mind and take a look down at your watch. You’ve finished with perfect timing–you’ve got about two hours to go home and get cleaned up before you have to be back for the rehearsal dinner.
You look for Joel for a few moments before leaving, but he’s nowhere to be found. It puzzles you a little bit that he wouldn’t at least say goodbye before leaving, but then again he really doesn’t have to answer to you. It’s a well-needed wake up call, a reminder that your feelings–can whatever you’re going through really be called that?–your attraction, is one-sided. He’s here for Bill and Frank, not for you. You’re his best friend’s daughter and nothing more, and the realization washes over you like a bucket of ice water.
You hate the way it sends you spiraling on the drive home. You hate the way you care so much about what he might think of you. You hate the way that you have to look at yourself in the mirror and give yourself a stern talking-to about needing to let this whole stupid crush go. You hate the way that you can’t even pretend the extra layer of mascara you apply isn’t for him.
You avoid Joel the entire night, which isn’t easy to do. You have to walk down the aisle next to him during the ceremony rehearsal but you avoid his eye contact, taking a twisted little satisfaction in the way he frowns when all of your replies to his chit chat are short and clipped. Dinner is easier–both Frank and Bill sit between you and Joel, so there’s no attempted conversation to deflect from him. But you could almost swear you feel his eyes on you, as if he’s looking right through your dad and soon-to-be-stepdad.
Joel is puzzled, to put it simply. One second, he’s got you in the palm of his hand. Then a moment later, you’re looking at him like you might look at a bug you stepped on and got stuck to your shoe.
He puts it out of mind as much as he can. He’s not supposed to be looking at you like that, after all. He’s not supposed to be admiring the perfectly kissable curve of your shoulder or the biteable expanse of your neck. He’s definitely not supposed to be wondering what you’re wearing under that adorable dress of yours. You’re his best friend’s daughter, for god’s sake. You’re so far off limits that he shouldn’t even be looking in your general direction.
But he is. He’s looking, and he can’t stop looking. And most of all, he can’t stop wondering if you feel it too.
Evidently you don’t, because you won’t even take his arm as you practice walking up the aisle in preparation for the big day tomorrow. You’ve probably figured out how much he’s been thinking about you and the kinds of things he’s been thinking, and you’re disgusted. He’s just a dirty old man to you, surely.
Little does Joel know that you come on your fingers moaning his name practically as soon as you’re through the door of your hotel room that night. You fall asleep before you can feel too ashamed about it–blissfully unaware that Joel’s doing the same exact thing just a few doors down.
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You wake up in the morning with much more clarity than you usually have, especially at 9AM.
No matter what, today is about Bill and Frank. You get to be part of a true love story, the kind that your dad used to read about to you in bedtime stories when you were a little girl. That knowledge steadies your mind more than anything else ever could.
You jump into the shower and try your best to tame your unruly hair before shuffling down to the dining area on the ground floor of the hotel. 
Bill and Frank really spared no expense on this place. All the food is fresh and hot, replenished every few minutes. It smells incredible–there’s overlapping waves of pastries, sausages, eggs, and fruits. It’s almost overwhelming; there’s way too many options.
After you pile up a plate with as much as your stomach can comfortably handle, you make your way over to the table your father occupies by himself.
“I was wondering when you were going to show up,” he says through a mouthful of cantaloupe.
“Decided to sleep in a little,” you explain. “Where’s Bill?”
“He already had breakfast, he’s getting ready,” Frank explains. “Joel made out a whole schedule for us, put us on different shifts so we don’t see each other before the wedding. It’s bad luck, after all.”
You snort through a bite of biscuits and gravy, because that’s such a characteristically Joel thing to do. From what you know of him, he thrives with routine and function–you’re surprised he doesn’t have you working off of a schedule, too.
A small, annoying part of your brain thinks it’s really adorable that Joel plays into that whole superstition. Another, more sensible part tells you that nothing Joel does is adorable and you’ve really got to stop thinking about him so much.
“How’re you feeling?” You ask, looking up at your dad through a bite of blueberry muffin.
“Relieved, honestly,” he admits with a chuckle and a twinkle in his eye. “I finally get to marry my best friend today, with my other best friend by my side.”
You hide the way the comment makes you choke up behind another bite of your breakfast.
There have been a lot of times where you’ve gone unwanted in your life; starting right at birth, continuing with unrequited crushes and lost friendships. But one person has always wanted you and been there for you through thick and thin. Frank picks you up every time no matter how hard you fall, and you feel so unbelievably lucky to be in his life. 
If anyone deserves a fairytale ending, it’s Frank. He always puts the people he cares about first, and now it’s his turn to shine. You’re not letting anything get in the way of that–especially not stupid, unrequited feelings for the best man.
With a little more resolve in your mind, it’s easier to get ready for the main event.
Every step of your preparation has been immaculately planned over the course of months. From your dress to your make-up, to your hair, not one detail has been overlooked. It takes you more than an hour to get ready–but when you’re ready, you’re a vision. Even though you’re not normally the type to enjoy looking into the mirror, you have to admit to yourself that you look stunning. 
Your traitorous brain wonders if Joel will think the same. 
With a heavy sigh, you grab your bag and your car keys. You really wish you had a way to shut those intruding little wishful thoughts off–they’re doing more harm than good at this point. 
You take a deep breath, shove as much as you can down, and resolve to have a good time celebrating your dads–then you open the door and set out towards an unforgettable night.
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Whatever kind of shock and awe you were hoping to inspire in Joel, it’s surely nothing compared to the rush you feel as you find him in the bridal party lounge.
You’ve never seen him quite so put together. He’s normally a bit undone–a symptom of being a long-time bachelor–but today, he’s perfectly styled. The hair he’s been growing out is slicked back into gorgeous curls, his black tuxedo pants hug his hips like a dream. He’s in the process of fastening the last two buttons on his impeccable white dress shirt and every bone in your body screams to stop him–to keep that peek of his tanned chest on display for your hungry eyes.
You have a fearful moment of thinking you actually made the request aloud, because he does stop in his tracks when his eyes land on you. His lips part in shock and his pupils dilate and he freezes. Fingers that were once absentmindedly completing their task drop to his sides as he murmurs something that sounds suspiciously like “wow.”
“Need help?” You offer before you can think better of it.
There’s a long moment of tense silence, and then he nods silently.
Your mouth is dry as you approach him, trying desperately to keep your cool. Your clammy palms are definitely not the most qualified to complete this task for him, but you can’t back down now. With a deep breath–you’re so close now that it fills your nose with the spicy, intoxicating scent of his cologne–you will your hands to stay steady and reach for his shirt buttons.
His lead tongue finally remembers how to work as you fasten the first button. “You look… incredible.”
“So do you,” you whisper. Just when you think you’re out of the woods, ready to step back and breathe properly again, his hand comes up to offer you a bow tie.
“This too?” His warm brown eyes search yours–how could he ever expect you to say no?
“Y-yeah. Sure.” You turn the collar of his shirt up, then carefully fasten the tie around his neck. The band is perfectly configured to his neck, the bow already tied–all you have to do is secure a hook through a loop. He could’ve easily done this himself; and yet he didn’t. He wanted you to do this, and that particular bit of knowledge sends a rush of heat burning through your veins. 
Maybe this whole song and dance isn’t quite as unrequited as you originally thought.
Your fingers brush his warm skin as you smooth his shirt collar back down over the band of the tie and it’s like an electric shock that shoots through every inch of your body. You’ve stuck a fork in an outlet and you want to do it again.
You’re done with your task, yet you can’t bring yourself to step away. He doesn’t either–for seconds that feel like hours, you look into those dark eyes and feel his breath against your face and you finally have the courage to do something about it. You’re going to kiss him, just lean in a little further and–
The sound of the lounge door opening makes your body jolt with the force of an actual fork in an outlet.
“There you are!” Frank’s got an untamable smile on his face–his hair is impeccably gelled back, his white tuxedo tailored to fit like a glove. The sight of him, so close to everything he’s ever wanted, brings tears to your eyes. “Wow, you two look amazing.”
“Hey. Thanks.” You’re fighting with all your strength to keep your voice even and calm despite the compliment. The reality of your father’s happily ever after comes crashing in and you’ve never felt so proud. “First look time?”
“Yeah,” he confirms with a nod. “Is Bill–?”
“Dressin’,” Joel answers after clearing his throat. “I’ll bring ’im out when he’s done.”
“Perfect, thank you.” Frank takes your hand to lead you outside, but not before you look over your shoulder at Joel. He looks thoroughly disheveled despite his sharp appearance–you’ve gotten under his skin. Good.
Thank god for waterproof make-up because you nearly lose your whole face during the first look. Not that you’re wearing much, but it’s enough that it’s jeopardized by the tears your treacherous eyes shed despite trying in vain to will them away.
You’ve never been so happy for two people before. You’ve never seen two people more in love. In their matching white tuxes, with their matching watery eyes, as they turn to greet each other for the first time today, you know that Bill and Frank are a forever thing. It brings you a sense of peace that you never knew was possible.
At some point, you become conscious of the fact that you’re holding Joel’s hand. You know you probably shouldn’t, that you could get both of you in serious trouble–but he’s not pulling away, so neither do you.
The true test of your mascara comes during the ceremony–it passes the test with flying colors, which is truly impressive considering the tsunami it has to hold up against. You’ve never really been a wedding cryer, although you suppose no one would blame you for this one. You’re hardly the only person walking away with tissues to their eyes. Bill and Frank have loved so hard and fought for so long in order to obtain this day–it’s nothing short of incredible to see them finally seal their union with vows.
Before the reception, you pop into the bridal lounge to make sure you’re still presentable. A couple tissues later and you’re good to go, but the sound of the door opening and the lock clicking into place stops you in your tracks.
Joel’s standing there, looking like a dream. Curls slightly disheveled from the wind, top two buttons of his shirt undone with his bowtie hanging out of his jacket pocket. His eyes are slightly red-rimmed, albeit not as bad as yours.
His breath seems to catch when he sees you–he clears his throat before whispering, “Hey.”
For a long moment, your tongue is too heavy to speak. Every ounce of desire from earlier comes rushing back in a flash flood of emotion. It’s just you and him and tension so palpable you could grab ahold of it.
“H-hey,” you breathe. Earlier, you were ready to do something drastic. Now, all the familiar doubts come crashing back in. Are all these feelings one-sided? Were you just seeing what you wanted to see? The feeling of his hand in yours is burned into your palm. Does he feel it too?
“I think it went pretty well,” he hums. His hands are tucked into his pockets, thumbs twitching unconsciously as if he’s nervous.
“It was perfect,” you agree.
For a moment that seems to last a lifetime, you both stand toeing the line. It’s right there, unseen but waiting to be crossed. You don’t know if either of you have the courage it takes to step over it.
And then he moves; he breaks the tenuous balance of platonic and something more by closing the distance between you.
“You really do look amazin’,” he breathes, hands clenching indecisively at his sides. “I mean, you always do, but–”
You grab him before he can finish his sentence. ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’ is blaring on the outdoor speakers as your lips finally meet his. It’s been weeks, maybe even months, of dreaming about this moment. It’s better than you ever could’ve imagined.
The world fades away as his breath becomes yours. There’s nothing but the feeling of his tongue sweeping across your bottom lip and his hands gripping your waist and his curls tickling your forehead. Nothing but the sound of his deep groan and the desperate thrum of his heartbeat underneath your palm as it slides up his chest. Nothing but finally feeling complete.
“W-we shouldn’t…” he murmurs, but he doesn’t dare pull away. His steps sound like cannonfire as he backs you up against the wall, a march towards something deliciously irreversible as his tight grip on your waist bunches the fabric of your dress up. Nothing has ever felt as right as his entire body surrounding and swallowing you this way.
“I want to,” you breathe against his lips. “Do you?”
“God, yes.”
Your arms come up to wrap around his neck and tug him closer, desperately wanting every inch of his body pressed up against you. Just as he’s starting to pull the skirt of your dress up, the song outside changes to ‘Don’t Stand So Close to Me’, strangely apt but also a reminder that you don’t have time. You made this playlist yourself–you know that there’s only three more songs after this one before you’re supposed to be ready for the bridal party entrance to the reception.
“Joel…” you moan out. “Joel, we have to be quick.”
“How quick?” He questions between searing kisses down the length of your neck.
“Ten minutes at the very most.”
“Shit,” he grumbles. He doesn’t pull away though–if anything, he pushes you back harder against the wall. “You still wanna do this?”
As much as you want to say yes, as much as you want to say fuck the reception, you can’t do that to Frank and Bill. “You think ten minutes is enough time?”
“If I can’t make you come in ten minutes I’ll eat my own fist.”
It makes you shiver in conjunction with the way his hand slides feather-light up your thigh.
Even the ghosting touch of his calloused fingertips on your sensitive skin has you aching for more. “Jesus Christ, you’re gonna drive me crazy.”
The cocky bastard has the audacity to actually wink at you. “That’s the plan, sweetheart.”
You drag his lips back to yours with a renewed sense of desperation, relishing the gentle scratch of his trimmed beard against your chin and under your palms. “It’s definitely working.”
“Good.”
You know this is territory that you probably shouldn’t be crossing into, not when he’s twenty years older than you and he’s your new step-dad's best friend, but you can’t be brought to care when those deliciously rough fingertips are slipping under the hem of your panties.
“Shit, sweetheart,” he grumbles against your lips. “She’s soakin’ for me.”
“A-always is,” you gasp out. 
His fingers sweep through your folds, gathering as much slick as he can to swirl around your sensitive clit. He smirks at the way your hands tighten on him even at the lightest of touches.
“That how you like it, sweetheart? Nice and gentle?” He presses a little firmer and a grin spreads over his face at the gasp you let out. “Oh, that’s it.”
“Joel, please…” Your hands move to his arms, squeezing tighter than you probably should but you can’t help it when he’s touching you like this. It’s exactly what you need and he knows it–he watches your face for every little indication that he’s doing a good job.
“Please what?” He purrs quietly. “What do you need?”
You could go on like this for hours, you’re sure–and you’re sure he’d be more than willing. You could stay here in his arms forever and let him work you over until there’s nothing left in your head but his name.
The song outside changes again, and you know forever will have to wait.
“Fuck me,” you plead. “Need you.”
“It’s gonna be tight, sweetheart.” You’d think he was being overly confident if you couldn’t feel the size of the bulge pressing against your thigh.
“That’s okay. Please.”
“Alright, sweetheart.” In a flash he’s got his belt undone and your greedy hands are more than happy to assist in shoving those perfectly pressed pants down his sturdy thighs.
You can’t help the gasp that bubbles out with the sight of him. He’s big. There’s no debate. The flushed tip of him is peeking through mouth-watering foreskin, red and flushed as if angry it’s not inside you already. You’re devastated you don’t have time to take that thick length into your mouth, to make him shudder and shake until he’s begging to fill you.
Later, you remind yourself.
“Still sure about this?” He asks, tone no longer brimming with the urgency and arrogance from just a few moments prior. He searches your eyes intimately for any hint of hesitation–the last thing he wants to do is to push you.
You’ve never wanted anyone more.
“Yes,” you breathe. “Please, Joel.”
“Easy, honey. I’ve gotcha.” The hand between your thighs moves to coat him in your slick–for a moment, you’re mesmerized at the sight of his big hand working over his cock. “Gotta tell me if anythin’ doesn’t feel good, ‘kay?”
“I will, I swear, just please–”
The rest of your sentence gets lost in a breathless moan with the first gentle thrust of his hips. Even just the tip is a stretch–one that has your nails digging into his shirt-clad back and your thighs tightening around his waist.
“Shit, sweetie,” he purrs, voice liquid gold. “Gotta relax, gotta lemme in–”
You manage to loosen your thighs a little and it gives him the space he needs to press all the way in to the hilt–the feeling of him filling you completely is nothing but breathtaking. A broken groan tumbles from his lips–you can feel the way his breath hitches from how his forehead is pressed against yours. It’s nothing short of heady, to know that you have such a profound effect on a man you thought might be immune to you.
“Good?” He questions in a whisper. One of his hands is hooked under your left knee to keep your leg up around his waist; the other strokes absentminded patterns over your right hip, as if unconsciously soothing you.
You give him a shaky nod in response. “Good.”
The pace he sets is the most delicious kind of torture. You both know you’re in a time crunch, so Joel is more than happy to employ the most toe-curlingly relentless speed. Every slick thrust of his cock makes your eyes flutter–little breathy moans escape your lips with fervor as he pounds deep. He's hitting every single spot all at once and then some. All the while his lips trace around your neck and jaw, careful not to leave marks but whining quietly as if he’s tempted. As if he wants nothing more than to claim you in a way that everyone can see.
You moan out his name and the hand on your waist comes to help, settling between your bodies and finding that perfect rhythm from before. You’re finding out that he’s a very intuitive and quick learner–you would certainly praise him for it if you could find the breath to do so. 
The way his hips work–driving him deeper than anyone’s ever been; the way his fingers swirl–bringing you to the brink in mere minutes with the most thigh-shaking friction; the way his mouth works, sucking just light enough on the sweet spot behind your ear so as not to leave a mark… it all builds and builds and builds, leaving you breathless and trembling and teetering on the edge of pure oblivion.
“Y’feel like fuckin’ heaven,” he gasps out against your cheek. “Never gonna get enough.”
The words alone send white-hot pleasure shooting down your spine–you’ve wanted him so badly for so long, and now you know he’s wanted you too. It feels even better with that satisfaction, with the fact of winning the prize you’ve been coveting so deeply.
“Joel…” You want to tell him the million thoughts that are rushing through your head, but your lungs aren’t cooperating. 
“I know baby,” he murmurs with a particularly devastating thrust. “I know. S’okay.”
It’s too much and simultaneously not enough. You dig your nails into his shirt to tug him closer, a silent plea to get him working against that spot again. He complies without words, hitching your leg a little higher around his waist and angling his hips in a way that makes you cry out his name again.
“I’m gonna–”
“Yeah, go ‘head,” he purrs breathlessly. “Lemme feel it, come all over my cock.”
His fingers press a little firmer against your clit and that’s all you need for the knot in your stomach to unravel with blinding force. It travels through every nerve like some delicious form of spontaneous combustion, making your body shiver with the energy of it. It’s the best you’ve ever felt–you don’t think you’ll ever get enough of it, either.
“That’s it honey, holy shit…” He murmurs before finally meeting your lips again for a breathless and panting kiss. “W-where?”
For a moment, you have no clue what he could possibly be talking about. His thrusts are losing rhythm with each moment, as if he’s about to–
“Inside,” you whine out after your moment of clarity. “Please–”
“Shit,” he spits even as he drives himself impossibly deeper. “Y’sure?”
You’re not even conscious of nodding your head–all you know is that you need him completely. “It’s safe. Promise.”
“Atta girl,” he whispers. “Gonna leave you fuckin’ drippin’, won’t be able to stop feelin’ it all night–”
His head tips back as the first wave crashes over him, eyes squeezed shut and mouth dropped open as his hips grind into yours. There’s nothing short of pure ecstasy on his face with the first few ropes of cum that fill you. You’ve never seen anything quite as beautiful as the pleasure washing over this gorgeous man’s gorgeous face. Knowing that you’re the cause of all this nearly sends you over the edge all over again.
He grunts as he shoves himself a little deeper, eager to feel every inch of you as he unwinds. “Christ, honey… squeezin’ me so goddamn tight.”
“Not my fault you’re huge.”
He chuckles at that, staying seated deep within your walls for a moment longer so he can kiss you again. It’s lost its edge of desperation, but it makes up for it with an overwhelming note of sweetness. His hand cups your jaw to guide the angle and once again you’re struck by that overwhelming sense of rightness. It’s like you were meant to be here, meant to take everything he gives you and more, meant to love him.
The song outside changes to ‘Every Breath You Take’, the song before the entrance song, and you spring to action.
“Shit, Joel, we’ve got to go.”
He pulls out with an overdramatic groan, as if it hurts him to be separated now that he knows what it feels like to be joined. You can feel the drip start even before his hand comes to fix your panties, but there’s hardly enough time to worry about that.
“How’s my make-up?”
“Perfect, darlin’. Not a thing outta place.”
“Thank god for waterproof,” you chuckle as you straighten your dress.
His dark eyes meet yours as your hands smooth out his rumpled shirt–there’s still so much swirling behind them, so much promise of things to come.
“We’ve gotta go,” you repeat when he halts by the door.
“Just a sec,” he murmurs. And then he pulls you in for one final, saccharine sweet kiss. “Come to my room w’me tonight.”
“Okay,” you promise–you’re surprised you can keep your voice even when just the question makes your heart skip a beat.
“Thank you.” It’s genuine, earnest. It makes your heart skip another beat.
He takes your hand before unlocking and opening the door, and he doesn’t let it go until he absolutely has to.
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➔ beta: @schnarfer and @futuraa-free thank you my darlings <3 ; dividers: @saradika-graphics
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bbokicidal · 2 months
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Hand Placement - [OT8]
quick summary : where the skz members like to lay their hands on your body during different scenarios.
warnings : suggestive content (18+, MDNI), sexual themes, casual (? ish, ig.) groping
notes : the order of the scenarios goes: casual -> intimate -> sensual so the pictures for each member will be placed in that order for visual reference!
if you like my content and want to see more, be sure to follow & reblog!
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₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ bangchan
casual - he can't help it, if he's honest. he knows that actions speak louder than words, and when you're stubborn enough to deny the beauty he tells you he sees through his eyes - well, he hopes that the touch of his hand lingering over your jaw will guide you to see yourself the way he does.
intimate - always holding your hand, chan can't deny that he feels a protective nature over you. he can't let you get lost - can't fight the panic he finds filling his chest when his fingers aren't laced with yours. so do him a favor and just hold on tight, yeah?
sensual - having the need to constantly be using his hands, chan likes to knead that plush of your thighs any chance he gets - and the feeling of the warmth under his fingertips is all the more alluring when you're sitting above him rocking your hips down against his hardening cock.
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₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ lee know
casual - never one to hurt you, his grip is always gentle when he grabs hold of your wrist. it's a subtle but sure way to make sure you drop the bratty, teasing nature that riles him up all too quickly - and it's a surefire way to get jisung giggling off to the side at your antics.
intimate - he isn't sure when his love for resting his hand on your lower back appeared, but minho adores getting to hold onto you in such a soft way. it's - again - subtle, but his gesture and guide is firm as he brings you to walk in front of him or lures you away from the counter so he can step forward and pay.
sensual - call him sappy - maybe even a bit romantic - but minho needs to feel your hand in his when he's making love to you. both so he knows you're present and with him in that moment, but also to keep you grounded when he's kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock. <3
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₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ changbin
casual - bin loves the feeling of having you in his arms. he can't resist the urge to hug onto you most times - use to being the clingier one in the group and loving that you'll accept his affection with no questions asked.
intimate - and since we're on the topic, who doesn't want a hug with bin's big strong arms wrapped around them? better yet, who doesn't want a strong hug from behind while also getting to play with his fingers and rings? he'll chat away with the others, swaying carefully back and forth with you huddled nice and close, twisting his rings and pulling at his bracelets.
sensual - having a thing for - what do we call it, grabbing? we've seen him do it with seungmin multiple times and you'd be wrong if you think he won't do it to you as well. at first it's gentle caresses along the nape of your neck to guide you into a kiss - but once he's comfortable enough and knows what you like, he'll grab you by the throat, dragging you to him to steal a kiss before guiding you to your knees so you can take his awaiting cock in your pretty little mouth.
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₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ hyunjin
casual - thinking it's more funny than anything, hyunjin developed a habit of pressing a hand over your mouth when you got snappy towards other members, namely being minho. because he knew for a fact that you would also get the airfryer-tissue treatment as soon as minho got out of his seat.
intimate - call him romantic, call him a sucker. hyunjin can't get enough of the warmth your body offers him, hands sliding under your shirt when you kiss him so he can squeeze at the softness of your sides and maybe, if he's feeling frisky, trail his fingertips up a bit higher.
sensual - call him a whore. if you're alone together, or you're in the group and everyone's been drinking a bit so he's what we'll call 'loose' in this situation - he's resting a hand right over your center. whether you're wearing pants, shorts, a dress, or nothing at all - he's always got his hand loitering there. maybe even rubbing small circles with his fingertips.
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₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ han
casual - jisung is... a sweetheart when it comes to your body. his favorite thing to do no matter where you are, how many people are around, what time of day it is - is play with your hair. he loves the feeling of running his fingers through it and getting to twist it into fun hairstyles. he'll do his best not to rat it up, though.
intimate - his hand being in your back pocket is something he could put on his hobby - because that's a full-time job for him. you're standing beside him? hand in your pocket. you're sitting in his lap? hand under your ass in your pocket. you're standing in front of him in line? whoop - hand in your pocket. maybe squeezing here and there, too.
sensual - did you see this one coming? han jisung is an ass man and i will stand by my word. any time you're alone he's always, always, always touching the tooshie. he'll slide his hands over the soft skin and dig his fingertips in as much as he can while you're in his lap, his lips attached to your throat to muffle his groans. he gets more pleasure out of it than you do, i'd assume.~
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₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ felix
casual - ever the sweetheart and gentleman, felix does his best to keep his hands to himself with you in public. but if you're more comfortable and don't mind him holding onto you or being affectionate, he'll often times find himself holding onto your hands or bringing you closer so that you can hold onto his arm.
intimate - it's common this appears at awards shows - felix enjoys showing you off. his hand is consistently resting on your hip, gentle but firm in nature and not necessarily guiding you but moreso just resting there so that people get the hint. you're taken, and he's proud to be your boyfriend. (all days of the week, but when you look this gorgeous? he's bound to adore you just a tad bit more, pride swelling in his veins.)
sensual - felix's hands commonly rest on your sides during moments together. partially because it gives you stability - and partially because he needs to hold onto you while he stares up at your bouncing form above him, his lips parted and eyes fogged like glass with adoration.
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₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ seungmin
casual - seungmin's almost always touching you more than he is the others. he'll nudge you with his hip to get you out of his way (playfully, of course) or give you a shove when you're being bratty - even though he's the exact same way. nuisances, i swear. <3
intimate - it's subtle, and soft. but seungmin has a love for linking his pinky with yours, letting his thumb rub over the back of your hand while you sit beside each other. there's no looks or words exchanged - just brief, sweet, quiet moments filled with a dull hum of love.
sensual - contrary to everything i just said, he's a grabber. grabbing your thighs, your hands, your sides - your hair. he has a love for holding your hair back for you while you swallow around his cock, or pulling on it to make you look back at him when he drills into you from behind so hard it almost hurts.
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₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ jeongin
casual - there's little to no casual contact with jeongin, simply because skinship isn't his thing. he'll hold your hand or arms here or there in passing, but it isn't often he'll be affectionate with you in public.
intimate - when he is feeling softer, feeling safer when he's alone with you and out of the teasing eyes of his hyungs - jeongin likes to cup your face in his hands. he mentally huffs out a laugh at the way his palms seem to envelope your cheeks completely, but on the outside he's just gazing at you, smitten and soft and falling apart just by the simplest touch.
sensual - his hands tend to wander. they'll caress over every curve of your body when you're splayed on the sheets for him, so willing and wanting and ready for what he has to offer - but they travel along your back most often. you think he just has a want to feel the way your back arches away from his touch, chasing the warmth of his body and writhing with pleasure all because of him.
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hemmingsleclerc · 10 months
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Little Verstappen ▏Max Verstappen
-summary: Olivia Verstappen doesn't let her father focus on his post-race interview
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The sun had just set on the racetrack, casting a warm glow on the tired faces of the drivers and the bustling pit crew. Max Verstappen, the triumphant winner of the day's race, was in the paddock surrounded by the hum of post-race activity. While journalists clamored for interviews, Max held his RedBull cap in one hand and, to everyone's surprise, cradled his young daughter, Olivia, in the other.
With a wide but tired smile on his face, Max agreed to a quick interview, with his daughter squirming playfully in his arms watching everything curiously. The interviewer, an experienced journalist, adjusted the microphone and began the conversation.
"Max, congratulations on another incredible race. How does it feel to win and be closer to winning your third championship?"
Max's eyes sparkled with joy, but his attention was often stolen by his daughter's mischievous antics, Liv, a bundle of energy, couldn't resist reaching for her father's cap and playing with his face.
"Well, it feels amazing," Max began, his words punctuated by Olivia's giggles. "The team did a fantastic job and the car was just perfect. It's always special to win, but having Liv here with me makes it even greater."
Olivia, not content with just the cap, began pulling on Max's ear, causing laughter from the crowd around her. Max, unfazed, continued answering questions while deftly avoiding her tiny fingers.
The interviewer chuckled: "Speaking of Olivia, what does she think when she sees her father win the race?"
''I don't know'' said Max ''Liv? What do you think?' he asked his daughter in his arms.
The little girl, realizing that the attention was now on her, felt her little cheeks heat up and hid her face in her father's neck, causing the elders to laugh.
"Well, it looks like we'll never know," Max said with a laugh as he rubbed his daughter's back. But the girl quickly turns around and says "My papa is the best driver in the whole world!" with a big smile on her face.
Max smiled at his daughter, who was now trying to put the cap on her own head. "She's amazing. She's my good luck charm and having her here makes everything that much more special. It's hard to describe the feeling of hugging her after a race. She's my biggest fan along with my wife, and I hope one day she understands what her father does."
As Max spoke, Olivia successfully donned the oversized cap, her eyes peeking out from beneath the brim. Max couldn't help but laugh, causing the crowd to join in the merriment.
The interview continued, a delightful mix of racing ideas and adorable interruptions. Liv, tired of the cap, now focused on her father's nose, causing more laughter from the viewers. Ever the professional, Max seamlessly integrated fatherhood and racing in a way that endeared him even more to fans.
At the conclusion of the interview, Max Verstappen lifted his daughter aloft, with the RedBull cap now perched precariously on her head. The image of the champion driver, crowned by his smiling daughter, became a trend on the Internet and was engraved in the hearts of fans around the world.
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monamipencil · 10 days
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— big boy ! | k.mg
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⋆ pairings; mingyu x fem! reader ⋆ genre; smut ⋆ w.c; 1.2k+ ⋆ warnings; dom! reader, sub! mingyu, jealousy, slight toxicity from both of them, possessiveness, oral (f. receiving), reader is mentioned to be smaller than mingyu, size kink, reverse size kink, mingyu is a slut ⋆ a/n; yes, and is this reverse (?) size kink. no clue lol
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now, this goes two ways...
either him getting so turned on by the size difference. his cock twitching in need when he sees how deep his huge cock would be buried in your cunt. and, him casually using his strength to pick you up and continue rutting his hips into you. or,
mingyu's breath hitches with each step you take towards him, and he swallows thickly, having been cornered. he looks down at you, getting lost in your lust-swollen eyes.
his cock twitches inside his pants when you press your body against his. you’re comparatively smaller than him, but you have so much fucking power over him. so much that he forgets this is a company party, and he could probably get fired if someone caught you both in the restroom like this.
“had fun? hmm?” you poke your cheek with your tongue, progressively getting annoyed as he continues to stay silent.
“of course, you did. I mean all those girls were practically throwing themselves at you. liked the attention?”
you can only adjust for so long. and, you couldn't care less if someone would label you as toxic. ever since he stepped in, his so-called coworkers had been flirting with and touching him. you were right there beside him. if it's this bad with you around, how bad is it without you?
your blood boils, and your dress feels too tight, rendering you breathless. your patience runs thin with every passing second. but to mingyu, this whole situation is hot.
who knew you were this possessive? and that fucking dress hugging your body isn't doing him any good. his back presses against the cold tile of the basin, and you place your hands on either side of his body, looking up at him.
he could easily overpower you, pin you to the wall, and have his way with you. but he can't even move his fingers for the life of him, and there's a voice inside his head, screaming at him to submit to you.
and he does. you pull him down by grabbing his collars and trace his jaw with your nose. the faint flowery perfume you don't use taints his scent, and your nose scrunches up in distaste.
“tch,”
you roughly pull yourself away from him. mingyu whines at the loss of contact, his hands itching to grab your waist. but you stop him by pinning his hands together at the front.
a pout forms on his pretty lips, and he stares at you with wide “innocent” eyes. if you lacked some self-control, you would've roughly kissed him and fucked him for everyone else to hear.
pressing a small kiss to his lips, you roughly grab his hard cock. his hip bucks into your hand, dick twitching beneath the layer of clothes. whines echo in the restroom, but you shoot him a warning glare, and he promptly shuts up.
after a few gropes and squeezes, you remove your hand, satisfied with how riled up he is now. he doesn't move but simply whimpers and whines. again, he knows he can overpower you. but there's a difference between knowing and wanting. mingyu wants you to ruin him.
“ugh, i want to fuck you so bad.” he whimpers, pulling you flush against him. with a roll to your eyes, you pull away from him and sit on the sink tile.
mingyu doesn't need to be told twice when you spread your legs, inviting him. he kneels on the floor and bunches up your skirt to your waist. his hands rest on the side of your thighs, squeezing the flesh.
a curse falls from his lips, observing the wet patch on your panty. you sigh and relax as he kisses your cunt through the cotton material. carding your finger through his hair, you tug on it, promptly receiving a groan from him.
he removes the cloth, and you shiver as the cold air licks your sensitive skin. he pockets the panty and quickly nestles himself between your legs again.
he leans forward, wrapping your clit between his soft lips. he sucks on the bundle of nerves, tongue flicking at the bud softly. then, he lays his tongue flat against your cunt, licking up your arousal. he hums, savoring the taste of you in his mouth.
you try your best to control all the filthy noises you want to let out. just the sound of mingyu's mouth on your cunt is enough to drive you insane and breathless. wet noises fill the restroom, along with your muffled moans and sighs.
he slurps and sucks on your hole, tongue prodding inside now and then. his soft lips molds with your pussy, and his hair tickles your inner thigh. he whines against your cunt, whispering praises in between.
you close your legs around his head and tangle your fingers with his locks, pushing him further. his nose brushing against your clit sends shivers down your spine, and you struggle to contain your moans. your hips buck up into his face, and you lock your legs around his face.
he doesn't stop despite the lack of oxygen. he slurps and sucks on your hole like a starved man. you can imagine his boner pressing against the fabric of his boxers and slacks. his twitching cock, leaking with precum, is painfully restricted, but mingyu doesn't do anything about it. he neglects himself to please you.
and he doesn't even mind being denied orgasms. as much as you'd like to ruin him tonight, you won't. payback for flirting with all those girls right in front of you. (you know he intended to make you jealous… and well, two can play the game.)
you gasp for breath as the warmth pools in your stomach. mingyu senses the shift in your breathing and laps his tongue on your cunt faster. an unbridled moan escapes your lips as he pushes you off your edge.
you cum on his tongue, still holding his head in place with your thighs. your legs tremble as you loosen your lock around him. he pulls back, gasping for breath and looking dazed.
you think he looks prettier like this, kneeling between your thighs with sweat glistening on his face and lips coated with your arousal. a little out of breath and his eyes practically begging you to fuck him.
but you won't.
your breathing turns even after a few minutes, and you slip off the sink. mingyu follows you and stands up from the floor. you fix your dress and makeup while mingyu watches, dumbfoundedly.
his cock presses painfully against his slacks. you're tempted to take him into your mouth, but you resist it. you don't even offer him a glance as you refix your makeup.
mingyu doesn't protest. he stands with a painful erection, watching you get dolled up again. he doesn't try to touch himself and get you to touch him. he waits. though his eyes scream a different story, he contains himself.
you cast him a smile when you're done, and he mirrors it. he leans down, slotting his lips against yours, and whispers a praise. he melts into the kiss. into you. though he's the taller, bigger one, you never fail to make him feel so small. not in a bad way. in a good way. in this way, mingyu isn't afraid to be himself with you.
yes, even as you are actively denying him any sort of pleasure.
you strut away from him, towards the party. and he follows suit, happily (and with a painful boner). he trembles with excitement, knowing what's about to unfold when you both reach home.
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adollrable · 5 months
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Talking in your sleep
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ও summary: you hear your boyfriend say things while he sleeps.
ও cw: leon kennedy (re4r) x female reader! fluff, established relationship, him being a sleepyhead!
ও wc: 900
a/n: so i have this little headcanon... that when leon is deep in sleep, he talks while he sleeps... and that's all, it came to me listening to the song by the romantics :p something small (i think) i hope y'all like it =]
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You love being with Leon.
You always learn something new with him day by day. Either from the anecdotes of him training in the military, or those (scarce) of him training to be a police officer.
At first he was a closed man, without the slightest desire to open his heart. You changed that, and now you are his little treasure.
There are still things that he hasn't finished showing but as you told him in a memory of your first date, you can go little by little.
Lately, you've learned more about small details and habits that he wouldn't feel comfortable showing around other people, you see more of him as a person.
So, you find yourself mesmerized by every new thing you see in him. Every detail, whether of his body or his personality.
Tiny moles, some acne marks on his cheeks, that stubble that never grows. His hair? How is it so soft and pretty? His fingers feel rough but his palms are very soft, probably because of the fingerless gloves he wears on his missions. His legs are strong but they are cozy when you sit on them for a cuddle session. His arms serve to warm you on those cold nights, and he loves to sleep cuddling next to you.
You also noticed that in public he is usually not a big fan of displays of affection, but in subtle ways he lets others know that you are not available. Hand on your waist, hands intertwined, kisses on your forehead, he offers you his jacket.
But at home? He pampers you as you deserve. Kisses everywhere, hugs from behind while you cook something for both of you, when you are very tired of wearing heels and you get home he doesn't hesitate to pick you up. And the list can continue.
Now... There's a little problem.
It may be silly, but it doesn't stop you from being insecure. And it's ridiculous to be!
But... The times Leon has said I love you are counted. You even think you can count them on the fingers of just one hand.
And you understand that everyone has different languages to express their love to their loved ones... But you bombard him with "i love you's" every day and he responds with a kiss on the cheek.
It sucks to feel insecure about that when it is obvious that the man loves you, even more so knowing that he is still a closed guy about several things.
But still, you can't help it.
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You adjust the sheets in your shared room, lying on the bed, followed by Leon who lies on his side. You look at him and smile as you lean down to place a kiss on his forehead to which he smiles slightly. "Is that a good night kiss?" Leon asks as he settled down next to you, resting his head on your chest.
"Mhm, so you have nice dreams." You responded to which the smile on his face remained. You wrapped your arms around him and let out a sigh. His cool skin greeting your hands as you delicately ran them down his back, feeling his muscles relax.
Leon always sleeps without pajamas, and if it's cold he only puts on cotton pants. He says it's enough for him to have you and the sheets to keep him warm.
"Sleep well baby." He says as he similarly wraps his strong arms around you, a firm grip but not so tight as to hurt you. "Sleep well, Lee."
And with that, between small, lazy smiles, you fell asleep.
Until you started hearing things.
Your sleepy mind does its best to bring you back to consciousness, and you come across an image so sweet that it made you smile.
Leon remained asleep on your chest, one arm thrown over your stomach. His cheek was pressed against one of your breasts and made his face bulge, his lips remain in a small pout. You wanted to kiss him until you were tired. But you noticed that he was very asleep.
One of the things you learned about him is that Leon is a light sleeper. At the slightest noise he wakes up.
Leon's missions, in addition to the horrors that come with doing his job and especially the stress, make it very difficult for him to sleep as peacefully as he is doing in your arms. So you are relieved that you can give him a little comfort to sleep so peacefully.
So, you gently ran your hands through his hair, which made him let out a sigh and move to cling closer to you. That made you stop for fear of waking him up, but what he did next surprised you.
You noticed how his lips (still pouting) parted slightly and the noise that made you wake up came from him. You were no stranger to this, as Leon sometimes had nightmares, but this time it was very different than usual.
"Mmph... B-baby?" His voice made you open your sleepy eyes, did you wake him up?
No... He's breathing very calmly. You doubt he's awake.
He tries to hold onto you tighter and tries again, "Babe..." His voice sounds thick and hoarse from his time asleep, and you hesitantly decide to answer him. "Yeah?"
"I love youuu..." He mutters, that made you smile. "I looove you sooooo muuuch." It was funny in a way, his voice was muffled by his bulging cheek.
A small but almost imperceptible giggle took over you. "I love you too, Lee."
That interaction filled your heart with warmth, feeling happy that in his dreams he had the courage to tell you that he loved you. But what you didn't believe was that he would spend the next... Thirty minutes babbling about how much he loves you.
Well... You're probably going to wake up with a headache, but certainly that insecurity that he doesn't tell you that he loves you so often disappeared.
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a/n: well, i'm not that sure about this one BUT i like to post silly little things =] i wasn't sure what to say to justify leon saying i love you to reader while he's sleeping LOL sorry about that
i had four exams this week and somehow i managed to approve them so my little treat is writing ;p
i just know this man TALKS embarrassing corny things while he sleeps and i just want him to nap in my arms 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻
thanks 4 everyone for reading this, likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated 🤲🏻🤲🏻🤲🏻 that's all for this time, bye-bye
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rory-cakes · 7 months
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Alastor's Birdy
Alastor wasn’t a good man. 
In fact, he was no longer a man at all. 
He was the Radio Demon, an overlord of hell, owner of souls, and host of the Hazbin Hotel. 
The only evidence that he was ever human was the gold band worn around his ring finger. No one seemed to notice it; if they did, they didn’t dare ask. 
Not much was known about the terrifying radio demon. The others at the hotel often wondered about the origins of the great Alastor Altruist. 
Well, not until Mimzy comes along.
“Alastooor, Sweetie, doll-face! So good to see you. How’ve ya been? Good? Good.”
Alastor hugs the small woman while everyone stares in confusion. 
“Listen, I was in the neighborhood! I heard you were staying at this ritzy ditzy slob factory-”
A glint of gold catches the light.
“Oh! By the way, where’s your little birdy?”
Alastor’s who? The confusion only continued to grow in the room. 
“Oh, Mimzy, you know she would never have ended up down here.”
Who are they talking about?
“Ah yes, she was such a kind soul. The best of the best.”
Finally, someone asks. 
“Yo! Lady! Who ya talkin' about?”
“His missus, of course!”
His what?
“YOU WERE MARRIED?!”
Alastor’s eye twitched as private information about his life came to light.
“I am married; we never divorced.”
Everyone stared in disbelief. How could anyone marry Alastor, of all people? 
Wait-
“You said she would never have ended up down here. Does that mean that your wife is in heaven? Is she an angel?”
“Charlie, don’t be ridiculous! No one that good could have married him!” 
Mimzy pipes up,
“She’s right. Y/n Altruist was too good for the world and sang like a canary!” 
That she did…
“I fell in love with you the first time I looked into
Them there eyes
You've got a certain little cute way of flirtin' with
Them there eyes”
All eyes gazed upon the stage. His little birdy was much like him in how they entranced others with their voices. If all he heard for the rest of eternity was that beautiful song of hers, then he could die a happy man. 
“They make me feel happy
They make me blue
No stallin', I'm fallin'
Going in a great big way for sweet little you”
It was never supposed to last. It was just for a while to make him seem more normal. To hide his less than socially acceptable hobbies. But she was light, and he was a moth to a flame. As he felt the weight of the box in his hand he wondered how someone like him got blessed with someone like her. 
“My heart is jumpin', you sure started something with
Them there eyes
You'd better watch them if you're wise
They sparkle, they bubble
They're gonna get you in a whole lot of trouble
You're overworkin' them, there's danger lurkin' in
Them there eyes”
Her eyes brightened as they landed on him sitting at his usual table in the back. He was done with work early and had come to pick her up so they could walk home together. 
“I fell in love with you the first time I looked into
Them there eyes
You've got a certain little cute way of flirtin' with
Them there eyes” 
HIS. She was his. He was hers. They were each others.
The only proof that Alastor was ever human was the gold band around his ring finger.
A/N: Here's the fic lol @mag-chan
part 2
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literaryavenger · 5 months
Text
Obsessed
Summary: Your crush on Bucky may be getting out of control.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Warnings: Dramatic Reader. Language. Angst. Fluff. My poor attempts at being Funny.
Word Count: 1.4K I'm physically incapable of making anything short.
A/N: I wrote this in like 2 hours and I don't even know what this is, just... Yeah.
Masterlist
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This is terrible.
This is the worst thing that's ever happened to you.
This is the worst thing that's ever happened to anyone. It's just the most horrible, dreadful, awful thing that could’ve ever happen to yo-
“Would you stop staring at him for fuck's sakes!” Natasha's hissed words make your eyes snap to her and finally away from the metal armed Supersoldier lifting weights. Shirtless.
You don't know when Bucky stopped feeling self-conscious enough to allow him to workout in nothing but a pair of gym shorts, but it has become literal torture for you.
Needless to say, Bucky's current level of undress is making it impossible for you to concentrate on the stretching you're supposed to be doing before your sparring match with Natasha.
But your very thoughtful and not at all exasperated friend makes sure to keep your attention on her during the entirety of our match by thoroughly kicking your ass.
What a lovely best friend you have.
Anyways.
Your entire mood shifts with one not intentionally overheard conversation. Steve enters the gym and goes straight to Bucky, who was putting his weight set down.
“She’s here!” Is all the blonde says to his friend and your heart stops at the way Bucky’s face lights up with a smile, not needing any more information before following Steve out of the gym.
She’s here? Who the fuck is she? Does Bucky have a girlfriend? And most importantly, she’s here? In the Compound?
Natasha can almost see the gears turning in your brain as you make no attempts to move from the mat after she knocked you on your ass for the hundredth time today. You didn’t even seem to notice her hand offering you help to get up, your eyes still looking where Bucky was just a moment ago, staring at nothing in particular while your brain drowns in your overthinking.
Natasha sighs and decides to end the match here, kneeling down in front of you and placing her hands on your shoulders, shaking you gently to snap you out of it.
“Don’t overthink this.” She tells you when she’s sure she has your attention. “It’s probably just a friend visiting.” She tries to comfort you, but you both know that’s highly unlikely. 
Bucky has no other friends outside the team. He doesn’t know how to talk to civilians anymore after everything he’s been through, and gave up trying to after the hundredth time he saw fear in a person’s eyes just by recognizing him. So his friend circle now includes the team and the agents of SHIELD that are not intimidated by him. Point is, every friend he has already lives in the Compound.
So who the fuck is here just to see him? 
Natasha can see that this is a lost battle, your eyes barely concentrating on her as you start drowning in your mind again. All she can do when you’re like this is try to distract you and keep you out of your head. So she takes your hand and helps you up, leading the way to the common room to watch one of your beloved romcoms together, because that’s how much she loves you.
Big mistake.
“Y/N! Y/N!” The excited high-pitched voice came just seconds after you set foot in the common room. And that’s about the only warning you got before the excited 5-year-old jumped on you, your reflexes thankfully quick enough to catch her.
“Hi, Maguna!” You say while chuckling as the little girl hugs you. “You seem excited today. Did you get into the sugar cabinet again?”
Morgan giggles at your joke and shakes her hand before taking your face in her little hands and dramatically saying, “No! A princess came to visit uncle Bucky! A real princess.”
You frown, confused at what she’s talking about, before you look around the room and finally notice everyone else in it. Pepper and Tony are on the couch, looking at you lovingly as you interact with their daughter.
You love Morgan, she’s like a little sister. You never miss an opportunity to babysit her and you spend as much time with her as you can. She also loves you, out of all the Avengers you’re her favorite, much to everyone’s dismay. She calls them all ‘aunt’ and ‘uncle’, but you’re just Y/N. You’re her big sister, you don’t need a title. Which is why you're the only one other than Tony allowed to call her 'Maguna'.
Then you notice the other people in the room: Steve, Bucky and… Shuri. The fucking Princess of Wakanda, standing in the common room of the Avengers Compound and just smiling at you as you carry Morgan.
You’ve never met Shuri, but you know she played an important part in deprogramming the Winter Soldier out of Bucky, and you’re grateful to her for it. She’s important to Bucky, and you can’t believe you forgot Bucky has Wakandan friends.
You put Morgan down on the ground again and the little girl takes your hand and aggressively steers you towards where Steve, Bucky and Shuri are standing, clearly thrilled to be in the presence of a real life princess.
“Hi, I’m Shuri.” She offers you her hand when you get close enough and you shake it with your free hand while introducing yourself.
There’s a bit of an awkward pause and you’re about to say the first thing that pops into your head when Morgan thankfully saves you by pulling on your hand, making you look at her. She tells you to come close and, chuckling, you kneel beside her so she can whisper conspiratorially in your ear.
“She’s a princess and she’s really pretty, but I still like you better.” She whispers and you can’t help but laugh.
God, you love this little girl.
You smile brightly at her and launch a tickle attack, her adorable giggles filling the room as everyone looks at you two with warm smiles.
Your attention is solely on Morgan, until you unintentionally hear the whispered conversation between Shuri and Bucky.
“So, this is the girl, huh? She’s pretty.” Shuri says and your heart skips a beat. 
You glance at them as discreetly as you can while still tickling Morgan, only to find Bucky looking at someone behind you. You turn around less carefully and see Sharon just entered the room, and she's also looking at Bucky with a smirk. You quickly return your attention to Morgan, but your mind is going a thousand miles a minute.
Of course he’d like someone more like Sharon. She’s pretty, she’s talented, she’s a total badass and she’s not afraid to go after what she wants.
She’s not a mass of anxiety in the shape of a woman that overthinks everything and becomes a flustered mess every time she’s even near Bucky.
It’s time to admit it to yourself: Bucky just doesn’t see you like that and you need to move on. 
Natasha is right, your obsession with Bucky needs to end.
What you don’t see is Bucky almost glaring at Sharon because he knows damn well why she’s smirking. She came in just before Shuri whispered to Bucky, when he was very intent on looking at you with heart eyes as you played with Morgan.
Just before you looked at him, Bucky noticed Sharon and he had to hold in a groan at her because he knows that she’s never gonna let him live this down.
Both Sharon and Steve have tried really hard to convince Bucky that you like him back and he should make a move on you. But Bucky, being as stubborn as they come, never believes them.
He obviously makes you uncomfortable, you’re always stuttering when he’s around and you avoid eye contact whenever possible. He’s just glad that you can stand his presence enough for the two of you to work together when necessary and to hang out with the rest of the team without problems.
So he just enjoys looking at you from a distance. He loves watching you play with Morgan and his thoughts always run wild with images of you playing like that with kids that are yours and his.
But he knows that’s never going to happen. Why would you like a damaged, PTSD ridden soldier that can’t even make it through the night without waking up from a nightmare? No, that’s definitely not your type.
Bucky accepts the truth: He doesn’t deserve you and you don’t see him like that anyways. 
It doesn’t matter that Sam thinks he’s obsessed, that won’t stop him from looking at you whenever he’s lucky enough to get a glimpse of his little ray of sunshine.
Requested taglist: @vicmc624 @matchat3a @nerd-without-a-cause @sapphirebarnes @cjand10 @mostlymarvelgirl @julvrs @blackhawkfanatic @lillianacristina @armystay89 @imdoingbetternow @spookyparadisesheep @elizalexwil @aceofhearts25 @dontworryboutitsweetheartxx-blog @justab-eautifulmess @buggy14 @thedonswife13
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starlostseungmin · 5 months
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husband!seungmin
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✰ notes: my brain is not working properly and idk if i could write any lengthy fics as of the moment but here’s husband seungmin because i’m bored and i love our puppy so much. not proofread. DO NOT FORGET TO REBLOG, COMMENT AND LEAVE TAGS! thank you <33
( seungmin )chan , lee know , jeongin , han , changbin , felix , hyunjin.
Husband Seungmin who cried when he saw you walking down the aisle with a big smile on his face thinking that he’s the luckiest man on earth to marry you. He couldn’t wait for the priest to finally announce you as husband and wife then kisses you in front of your friends and family. 
Husband Seungmin whose love language is act of service and words of affirmation with a little bit of gift-giving. 
Husband Seungmin who is still shy about engaging in physical touch. But when he does, he gets really clingy and refuses to let you go. You never complain. He also loves looking at you dreamingly while you sleepーwhispering how much he loves you and kisses your forehead before going to sleep, hugging you tightly. 
Husband Seungmin who cooks every morning before going to workーsometimes at nightーand holds your hand while brewing coffee as he steals kisses whenever you aren’t looking. 
Husband Seungmin who would take the day off from work just to stay home and take care of you when you’re sick. He won’t allow you to move and insist that he’ll do everything you ask for. 
Husband Seungmin who gets a bit possessive when someone who seems interested in you makes a conversation so he’d kiss your lips out of the blue and say, “We’re married.” then show off your wedding rings. 
Husband Seungmin who doesn’t pressure you to have kids with him since he respects whatever decision you make. It doesn’t matter anyway, as long as the two of you are together, that’s enough for him. 
Husband Seungmin who is still feeling nervous when he asks you out on a date. It would always feel like the first timeーhis heart racing, cheeks red as a tomato, the giddiness and sparks, everything goes in slow-motion. He would take you to your favorite places and have the best time. 
Husband Seungmin who loves tea time and is literally serving you hot gossip from workーlaughing at how everyone was so dumb and problematic in the industry. 
Husband Seungmin who used to prefer texts over calls but now he tends to call you often because he misses you. He would also wait for you to hang up first.
Husband Seungmin who would hug you tightly while kissing the crown of your head and whisper words that might comfort you when you’re breaking down and vulnerable in front of him. He would refuse to leave until you feel better. 
Husband Seungmin who makes weird noises and funny faces just to make you laugh. 
Husband Seungmin who acts like a puppy when he wants to be babied and asks for a kiss. 
Husband Seungmin who treats you like royalty. 
Husband Seungmin who gets over the moon when you surprise him with lots of (useful) Sanrio-related gifts. Mostly Pochacco and Pompompurin with a little bit of Cinnamon Roll. 
Husband Seungmin who loves to take A LOT of pictures of you with his phone or camera. You’d complain (playfully) about his storage getting full but he doesn’t mind because you are his muse. 
Husband Seungmin who brings you flowers on random days because they remind him of you. 
Husband Seungmin who kisses your lips intimately because he wants to. It could happen multiple times a day which could lead to something moreーmost of the time. 
Husband Seungmin who would walk away after an argument and come back hours later to apologize. 
Husband Seungmin who doesn’t want you to see him cry but gives in when you hug him. 
Husband Seungmin who gets brutally honest, cries over silly things, and does his little twerk when drunk but still cute as hell. 
Husband Seungmin who always scores 98-100 on coin karaoke and gets cocky. He knows you love listening to him when he sings and gladly does the favor when you ask him to—wherever, whenever. 
Husband Seungmin who is always good at everything. 
Husband Seungmin who doesn’t say “I love you,” most of the time but expresses it in different ways or says it with the things he feels about you. 
Husband Seungmin whose smile is the most precious in the world. You promised not to take it away and never make him cry. 
Husband Seungmin who loves you so much, makes you happy, never fails to make your heart beat, makes you feel loved and accepts you no matter what your flaws are. 
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✰ taglist: @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89
©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.
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fairyhaos · 6 months
Text
◈ the worst day of the week // choi seungcheol
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seungcheol x gn!reader, 1.2k+ words
tags: requested by anon, fluff, established relationship, slight hurt/comfort, soooo domestic oof
warnings: pet names (baby), reader eats cereal at 2am
summary: everyone has days where they don't want to go to work. for you, it happens every monday, but fortunately, you have a lovely boyfriend who will do anything to make you smile, even on your worst days.
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“What are you doing?”
You flinch at the stern words that sound over your shoulder, and pause with your hand held midair. You can't turn around, frozen in place. 
“Um.” You swallow nervously. “Nothing?”
There's a tense silence, and you can hear your heartbeat thrumming in your ears as you breathe slowly, too afraid to make any more noise. The person is still standing behind you, a looming presence, and maybe, if you hold still for long enough, then they might end up going away—
Seungcheol sighs, and walks around the kitchen table until he's facing you. “Y/N. What are you doing?”
Your shoulders slump as your boyfriend's face comes into view, his hair all sleep-mussed and his eyes droopy with drowsiness. But his gaze is focused on you, the disapproving turn of his lips clear even in the faint light provided by the lamp in the corner of the kitchen. 
Weakly, you attempt a smile. “I'm having a bowl of cereal?”
Seungcheol blinks. A long, slow, unimpressed blink. “You're having a bowl of cereal at two in the morning?”
“Yeah. It's like… the new ‘it’ thing. Everyone's doing it.”
He raises an eyebrow. You slowly shove another spoonful of cereal into your mouth.
“No, they're not,” Seungcheol says, and with a sigh, tries to reach over and pull the bowl away from you. “Y/N, baby—”
“Hey, no, don't take my cereal away,” you protest, grappling for the cereal and tugging it towards you before he can take it away. Seungcheol frowns disapprovingly, and you wilt a little. “It'll go all soggy if I don't have it now. I need to eat it.”
“You need to sleep,” he returns firmly, and then sighs again. “Y/N, it's two in the morning, and you have work later. Why are you awake, and eating cereal? You don't even like this kind of cereal.”
He's right, and you don't, because it's the tasteless variety that grates irritatingly against your gums but you just needed something to do, because it's a Monday tomorrow and it's literally the worst day of the week and you don't want Monday to come. 
Well. Technically, it's already Monday. But thinking about it like that makes you feel even more terrible, the little worms digging even uglier holes into your stomach, and you grimace. 
So that's why you're awake now, shoving tasteless, soggy cereal into your mouth because you don't want to go to bed. 
Seungcheol regards you with sad eyes, like he knows exactly what you're thinking.
Knowing him, you think sulkily, he probably really does.
He doesn’t say anything, though, and just continues watching you with those sad eyes as you slowly eat your cereal. His gaze makes you feel strangely guilty, heart twisting weirdly in your chest as you eat, feeling like you’re doing something wrong.
By the time you finish, your boyfriend still hasn’t said a word, but he does pinch your cheek fondly and take the bowl from you once you set down your spoon.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, and he's looking at you with those big, earnest eyes, the sincerity and warmth making his gaze meltingly soft even in the darkness of the room. When you hesitate to answer, his eyes seem to melt even more. “Do you want a hug?”
And oh, there's something about the way he says it that makes you begin to tear up, feeling so overwhelmingly comforted by his voice. 
“Oh, baby…”
Before you know it, he's gotten up from the table, walked over to you, pulled your chair back and enveloped you in a hug. 
He's wearing one of his oversized hoodies, and the material is soft under your fingers as you cling to his shoulders, burying yourself into the crook of his neck as he holds you securely. He just smells so much like him, all gentle and kind and willing to be there for you and all your worries and fears about the dreaded day ahead of you make you dissolve, kitten-weak, into his arms. 
“Shh, don't worry baby,” Seungcheol murmurs, still bent over you, hands rubbing secure circles into your back as you cry. “Don't worry. It's okay, shhh, don't cry, I'm here. I'm here for you.”
It only makes you cry harder, hearing the care in his voice, but Seungcheol doesn't seem to mind. He stays over you, hugging you, until your tears begin to subside, and then he helps you out of the uncomfortable kitchen chair, one hand around your waist and the other keeping your fingers interlaced with his own as he guides you out and up the stairs, back to your room again. 
He's gentle, the entire way, whispering words of comfort and pressing reassuring kisses to your temple as he helps you up the stairs. 
“There we go, that's it, I love you,” he says softly, when you make it up the final step. He squeezes your hand, once. “I love you.”
He's babying you, even more than his normal boyfriend-level of Doting™, but you can't even bring yourself to feel embarrassed about it, more focused on how nice it feels to be held by him, to be treated so delicately. And even when your nose is still running and your eyes feel all horribly swollen, Seungcheol still calls you beautiful, still says he loves you. 
“Here we are,” he says, smiling, as he tucks you into bed before moving round to the other side to climb in himself. “Rest, baby. You need to sleep now.”
You mumble something, incoherent even to yourself. Seungcheol just chuckles softly, pressing another kiss to your temple. 
“Rest,” he repeats, the word warm against your cheek as he kisses you again. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” you say, a little drowsy. A beat. “Still don't wanna go to work t'morrow.”
Seungcheol chuckles again. “I know, baby. But I'll be here when you come back home, you know? You won't be at work forever. I promise.”
“Mhm. Feels like forever, though.”
“Maybe.” Seungcheol is silent for a moment, thoughtful. “How about this. After work tomorrow, we'll go out on a date.”
You look over at him. “A date? On a Monday?”
“Just a small one,” Seungcheol says, and you can see his mildly embarrassed smile, even in the dimness of the room. “It'll give you something to look forward to, no?”
It certainly would. You can't help but smile, a blush creeping up on your cheeks because he just somehow makes you feel so loved even when he's smiling bashfully at 2am on the absolutely worst day of the entire week. 
“Yeah,” you say, and roll over to snuggle into him, rubbing at your swollen eyes until they feel a little better, relaxing into him with a contented sigh. “Thank you, Cheol.”
“Of course, baby,” Seungcheol says, and then presses another kiss to the top of your head, gathering you in his arms. 
You look up at him, and with your eyes, you trace the adoration on his face even in the darkness. You smile. 
“I love you.”
Seungcheol squeezes you against him, and kisses your forehead yet again, his lips as warm and soft as the gentlest of promises.
“I love you too.”
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fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @sakufilms @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @raevyng @isabellah29 @kikohao
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