#i have no excuse for the tardiness here

[daytaker]

Could you do headcanons with the MC that's constantly napping and sleeping but somehow can keep up with whatever is going on? Just imagine them sleep talking coherent replies in a conversation during a meeting or doing the dishes with their eyes closed and lightly snoring

The Brothers React to Functional Sleeping MC

If it wasn't for Belphie, this would have confused them all a lot more.

Considering Belphegor's constant napping and occasional conversation contributions through sleep-talk, they are much less surprised by this tendency of MC's than the vast majority of people would be. It's just a natural part of life that some people are capable of sleeping and carrying out day to day activities at the same time.

Right?

(Individual brothers below the cut.)

Lucifer finds it annoying, sure, but at least you're slow-moving. What he really fears is the MC whose intense energy shatters any semblance of peace in this house. At the end of the day, though, he's not doing anything for you that he wasn't already doing for Belphie, so it's an inconvenience he can live with.

Mammon can't tell when you're actually asleep. He's convinced that you fake it a lot, since that's something Belphie is known to do when he'd rather not participate in a conversation. So he's always suspicious when you're able to complete tasks and move around while ostensibly asleep. He tries to catch you off guard and prove that you're not really sleeping, but he's never able to do it. Still, he hates that he can never let his own guard down as far as what he says when you're sleeping nearby, since there's a 50/50 chance you'll somehow absorb what he's saying and remember it in your waking life.

Levi thinks it's cute; at least, at first he does. It's a common trope in slice-of-life anime, having super cute sleepy characters. At the same time, it's a little frustrating, because you tend to just nod off whenever he tries to talk to you for any extended length of time, and he isn't going to play the game where he keeps talking just because you might actually be absorbing what he's saying! If you aren't interested enough to stay awake, he'll just stop bothering you! Hmph.

Satan finds it kind of funny, mostly because of how his brothers react to it. Mammon acting suspicious and nervous, Levi getting his feelings hurt, Asmo fawning over you, and Beel carrying you to and from RAD like luggage. He doesn't have a tremendous amount of interest in you, exactly, but you provide some real entertainment, so he appreciates that. Plus, and big shocker here: did you know cats nap a lot? You gain points in his book for this resemblance you bear to nature's most magnificent creatures.

Asmo thinks it's just precious to watch the human sleep at the table, or at their desk, or on the floor in the library, or on the toilet, or at breakfast, or at dinner, or... Mmm, are you okay, sweetie? You need to work on your sleep schedule. If you're having trouble sleeping at night, you should just come visit him! He has all sorts of ideas for how you could wear yourself out at night so you'll be refreshed during the day! :)

Beel is a little thrown off at first, because in some ways it's like Belphie never left. You'll recall that when MC first arrives in the Devildom, the other brothers besides Lucifer think Belphie is in the human world as an exchange student. So Beel wonders if maybe there was some sort of equivalent exchange shenanigans going on. They sent up a sleepy demon, so maybe that meant a sleepy human had to come down? It's very comforting, at any rate. He makes himself your unofficial guardian, carrying you out of situations where it's not safe to just lie down and sleep, or guiding you back inside after you sleepwalk out of the House of Lamentation.

Belphie is convinced he's met his soulmate, and honestly, maybe he's right. I can only imagine that you're mellow as fuck, probably got over any hard feelings from Chapter 16, and you're fast friends with Belphie now. You nap together all the time. Belphie even shares his secret hiding places with you.

Sometimes you and Belphie have full conversations in your sleep, to the amazement and amusement of the other brothers.

MC: Hungry... Go out 'n eat... Belphie: Snnn.... Jus' stay here... Kitchen... MC: Burgers... Belphie: Too cold to walk... MC: Lazy... Belphie: No, you... MC: Wear a hat... Belphie: Fine... MC: ...Hell's Kitchen in twenty... Belphie: Hmm... *Both stand up and sleepwalk to the door.* Mammon: They're not actually asleep, right? MC: *walks directly into a wall, grumbles about traffic, then continues* Mammon: ....Right?

This is the rare MC that I'd pair with Belphie. Normally I'm a little wary about how that would pan out, but if their relationship is built on mutual sleepiness and shared hiding spots to nap, well. Love is love.

[lilacerull0]

i feel like i'll ruin it if i give a code name to this person, but his histology thoughts are <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

[anisespice]

Hey girl got a request,so like let’s say bonten is having a meeting with a new criminal organization gang that came in to come up with a deal,and while we are just sitting in the back looking at our new sparkly items Koko bought us,and the new criminal organization gang calls us out saying it’s disrespectful and rude calling us names..And bonten doesn’t like that one bit..So yeah I want them to react to that

hope it makes sense 😔😍🤺🤺

SAVE ME FROM MY WRITER'S BLOCK, ANON - HERE WE GO, NO MARIO. Hope you enjoy and thank you for requesting~!

pairing: bonten x fem!reader

warnings: mature language, misogynistic undertones (from another gang), implied violence, guns mentioned, reader is criminally oblivious (love that for her), guard-dog!bonten supremacy, sanzu gets his own warning lol and i think that's it.

notes: yall. can you believe i actually wrote this in one sitting? without stopping?? wild concept for me, haven't been able to do that in a good minute *knock on wood*, but i hope you enjoy! more stuff coming soon ♡

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @spacegirl05, @neverlandlostchild , @darks-pet-shadow, @captaincyberqueen

Upon the arrival of the recently developed organization, officially known as Kaiju, things already weren’t off to a great start. They were late, clocked at about twenty minutes past schedule. Excuses poured from them like a broken faucet, blaming their tardiness on traffic, which the members were willing to give the benefit of the doubt, some more than others. Then, they were unprepared. Scrambling about with their half-assed introduction mixed with a sloppily thrown together presentation, it was insulting at worst. 

Here they were, biggest in the game, offering an opportunity to help underground operatives make a name for themselves..and this is how they want to showcase their potential? Mikey waved it off when his number three voiced this flaw, merely chalking it up with inexperience–Everyone has to start somewhere, right? 

But. Finally came strike three. The one thing, the most damning thing they could’ve ever done to have mercy jump right out the window and straight to hell, was when one of their foolish members spoke ill of you. 

It was supposed to be taken as a joke, something controversial in a room amongst men, locker room talk if you would. Unfortunately for him and the rest of his team, Bonten didn’t see it that way. What was said wasn’t important, but the intent behind it was enough to make them hostile. And Kaiju would soon realize it too late despite no one laughing on that side of the room. If anything, the room grew colder. No matter who you looked at, venom consumed their gazes, a deathly aura building from their leader all the way to the advisors. The only reason no one reached for their gun, mowing them down in an array of bullets, was because you didn’t hear the disrespectful comment. 

All gazes shifted over to you briefly, sitting pretty in your little area they set up just for you. They liked having you close by, even during something so mundane as a meeting, watching you happily paint your nails or open up all the shiny new trinkets they bought you. Kaiju should count themselves lucky that you had headphones on, blissfully listening to music, not a care in the world.

And it was going to stay that way. 

By now, the dumbasses before them caught on to their grave error. Especially when Sanzu made a show of santuring over to you upon Mikey’s silent request, swiftly gathering you in his arms and carrying you to the head of the table. You squealed slightly in surprise, headphones slipping off your ears in the process as you held on to the pink-haired gangster, confused smile on your face. “Haru! You scared me!~” 

“Sorry, doll. Boss wants ya to sit right here.” Sanzu gently sets you down on your awaited throne, Mikey having made room by scooting his chair back, welcoming you with open arms. 

Still confused though not complaining, you merely shrugged before making yourself comfortable, snuggling more into the leader before putting your headphones back on. Mikey held you possessively, arms locked around you like a shield, placing a small kiss to your forehead. Message was sent; message soon received. 

Kaiju’s leader began blubbering out more excuses, reprimanding his subordinate in the same breath for saying such a thing about Bonten’s trophy wife–

Guns are drawn instantly and zeroed in on every last one of them. Stunned to horrified silence, as were his underlings, they all stood frozen in fear as they stared down multiple barrels in every angle. Koko scoffed, “You must got a death wish, huh?” 

“She’s no trophy, have some goddamn respect,” Mochi added, earning a sardonic chuckle from Ran. 

“Big ask from idiots who have none. Couldn’t even bother to show up on time, now they wanna make jabs at our [_____]. I say we’ve been more than courteous, wouldn’t you agree, otouto?” 

“Tsk. Let’s just waste ‘em. We’d be doing the streets a favor.” 

“Great idea,” Sanzu and Takeomi answered in unison, the former sounding twice as eager. 

The only ones placid were Kakucho and Mikey, one quietly observing whilst the other made sure you remained ignorant to the situation, angling you in his lap to where you were practically straddling him, phone still in hand as you watched a music video your favorite k-pop group dropped recently. The only sounds in the room were the panicked breathing of Kaiju and your melodic humming to the song. Mikey patted your head, satisfied that you were still your happy self. If any of those bastards made your smile drop even a centimeter, he would have their bodies fed to the dogs. With a small sigh, he and Kakucho eventually made eye contact. Then, he gave a small nod. “You were right. Should’ve killed them after that shitty presentation. Handle it.” 

Kakucho gave a curt nod, then signaled for Kaiju to be apprehended. With guns still aimed at them, leaving them no choice but to grovel for mercy, the Haitanis along with Mochi and Takeomi forced them to march out of the room, and to their inevitable deaths, not wanting to startle you with the sight of bloodshed so early in the morning.

Sanzu was already dialing up reinforcements to help with cleanup and disposal, face beaming as he practically skipped out of the room. Kakucho gave one last look to you, then Mikey, then politely bowed before closing the door behind him on his way out. You jumped slightly, the song ending right when the door slammed shut, making you lift one of your headphones and look around in shock.

“Oh, is the meeting over already?” 

Mikey reached up to thumb your lower lip, then reached up to playfully pinch your cheek. You grinned, gently swatting him away, so oblivious to the men you inadvertently sent to their demise all to protect that very smile. The former blonde shook his head, leaning on the armrest to rest his chin atop his knuckles. “No. Ended up being a waste of time. Don’t think you would’ve liked them.” 

You chortled. “Doesn’t matter if I like them. It’s your business, silly.” 

“Mm, you are our business, angel. And we like you more.”

© 2024-2025 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[tfwbluu]

・ SESSION #1 ・

pairing heeseung + sunghoon & f!reader 2191 words warnings mean!dom!hee & soft!dom!hoon threesome raw sex (stay safe!) oral (f & m rec.) double penetration (mouth & hole) fingering squirting cum eating(?) edging/overstimulation degradation/praise

Receiving the keycard, you muttered a quiet “thank you” before heading toward the room. The sound of your footsteps filled the hallway until you reached the door. After scanning the keycard, you heard the soft click of the lock. Gently pushing the door open, you stepped inside and were immediately enveloped by a moody, intimate atmosphere.

The dimly lit room enveloped you in, the faint scent of sandalwood lingering in the air as your eyes adjusted to your surroundings. It wasn’t just the lavish furniture or the provocative decor that made your face flush—it was the tension that seemed to thrum in the air.

“My, not only are you late, but you didn’t even notice us,” a low, teasing voice called out behind you. A pair of arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close, making you flinch in surprise.

“Let her be,” another voice chimed in, smoother and more relaxed. “We have a fifteen-minute late policy, and she’s here at the ten-minute mark.” Finally turning your head, you were met with Sunghoon’s sharp gaze and charming smirk.

“Hi there, sweetheart.” He moved to stand in front of you, his presence magnetic, forcing you to tilt your head up to meet his eyes.

Both men were barely dressed, wearing nothing but loose robes that hung lazily off their shoulders, revealing glimpses of their toned, sculpted stomachs. The slight gap in the fabric left just enough to ignite your imagination, making it impossible not to wonder what lay hidden beneath. Their casual yet careful display of skin made your pulse quicken, the room suddenly feeling warmer.

“We’re pleased to be at your service,” Sunghoon murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck, making your breath hitch. “You should be more careful. Any later, and we might’ve pounced on you.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled shyly, feeling your cheeks burn. “I just got so caught up with work… It's tiring.” Your hands instinctively found their way into his hair, letting him continue to trail kisses along your neck.

“Hmm? That still doesn’t excuse such tardiness,” Heeseung teased from behind, his warm breath ghosting over your ear.

“Oh, shush. Give her a break—she looks exhausted,” Sunghoon countered, shooting him a pointed glance. “Isn’t that why we're here?”

“Hmph, my patience is wearing thin. Get over with it,” Heeseung demanded, his grip on you tightening.

“Don’t mind him, angel. May I?” Sunghoon whispered, his fingers already hovering over the buttons of your blouse, waiting for your permission.

You nodded softly, and with deft fingers, he began unbuttoning your blouse, revealing more of your skin to their hungry gazes. Sunghoon hummed in approval, his lips traveling down to your shoulders as Heeseung unclasped your bra with practiced ease, tossing it to the corner without a care.

“So pretty…” Sunghoon murmured, his voice low and reverent as his hands skimmed over your now-bare skin. “We’re going to have so much fun devouring you.” He tugged you gently into a kiss, his lips firm yet soft, leaving you dizzy.

“Mhm… p-please,” you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper as their touch ignited a fire within you.

“Please what, angel?” Heeseung teased, his hands now fondling your sensitive nipples, rolling them between his fingers. “Use your words.”

“Please… fuck me,” you whined, your grip tightening on Sunghoon’s shoulders as desperation leaked into your voice.

“Say less, princess,” Sunghoon replied with a sly grin before scooping you up effortlessly into his arms, carrying you to the bed.

Sunghoon’s lips found yours the moment your back met the soft, plush sheets. His hands moved with practiced ease, skillfully unfastening your pants and slipping them off, leaving you in just your panties.

You let out a quiet, breathy moan against his lips, your body already reacting to his touch. The warmth of his hands, the way he kissed you—slow and deep—left you breathless. You felt the bed dip as Heeseung moved closer, breaking Sunghoon’s kiss with a commanding presence.

“Hoon, sit her on your lap,” Heeseung instructed, his tone low but firm. Sunghoon obeyed, pulling you onto his lap so your back was pressed snugly against his chest.

“Now,” Heeseung murmured, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips, “how about we teach you a lesson for being late?” His words sent a shiver through you as he leaned down, trailing soft kisses down your stomach until he reached the waistband of your panties. Without hesitation, he bit down on the fabric, tugging it down with his teeth, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Tsk, you’re already dripping,” Heeseung mocked, his hands spreading your legs apart, which Sunghoon eagerly held in place. His fingers hovered over your soaked folds, teasing you with featherlight touches that left you trembling.

“Hah… Please…” you whimpered, your voice desperate, a pout forming on your lips. “Need you so bad.”

“Mhm. Since you’re asking so nicely,” Heeseung mused, finally letting his fingers dip into your arousal, spreading it around before slowly pushing one, then two fingers into you.

“Fuck, yes—yes, right there,” you cried out, your head falling back against Sunghoon’s shoulder as Heeseung’s fingers curled inside you, hitting every perfect spot.

“Such a slutty little cunt,” Heeseung taunted, spitting on your pussy before moving his fingers faster, his thumb gently flicking over your clit. The sensation was overwhelming, your hips bucking involuntarily to meet his touch.

Your fingers clutched the sheets desperately, grasping for something—anything—as waves of sensation coursed through you. Sunghoon tilted your face toward him, his grip firm yet gentle, before capturing your lips in a heated, all-consuming kiss. He swallowed every desperate moan that spilled from you, deepening the connection, leaving you breathless and wanting more. His hands roamed your body, grounding you as Heeseung focused on driving you to the brink.

“P-please, I’m so close…” you mewled, your thighs trembling as the knot in your stomach tightened. Just as you were about to tip over the edge, Heeseung abruptly pulled his fingers away, leaving you shaking and desperate for release.

“No, no! P-please…!” you whined, your body quivering with frustration.

Heeseung tapped your swollen clit, smirking at your reaction. “Because you kept us waiting. Now you’ll learn how long 10 minutes can really feel,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery as he plunged his fingers back into you.

“Shh, I got you, angel,” Sunghoon murmured, his voice soft yet commanding as he pressed soothing kisses along your neck. “You’ve been such a good girl for us... you can take it.”

“F-Fuck! Please… haa… ‘m sorry…!” you whined, squirming in Sunghoon’s arms. His hold was firm yet comforting, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured sweet reassurances. But he made no move to stop Heeseung—only keeping you steady, letting him take his time with you.

Your moans spilled freely as Heeseung’s fingers moved with relentless precision, pushing you closer and closer to the edge, only to pull back at the last second, leaving you trembling in frustration. His touch was deliberate, every movement calculated to keep you wanting more. The contrast between his torment and Sunghoon’s gentle whispers sent shivers down your spine—one keeping you grounded, the other driving you mad with need.

“Shh… You’re doing so well,” Sunghoon murmured, though his hands betrayed his words, brushing against your sensitive bud before retreating, adding to your frustration.

The vicious cycle continued, each ruined orgasm leaving your body trembling, your sensitivity heightened with every denial. By the nine-minute mark, your resolve crumbled. With a loud, unrestrained cry, your body gave out, squirting around Heeseung’s fingers as your arousal coated his hand. You trembled uncontrollably, overwhelmed by the release you hadn’t been allowed to have.

Heeseung’s eyes darkened as he pulled his fingers away, gripping your jaw firmly to make you meet his gaze. “Did I say you could cum?” he asked, his tone sharp, though there was an undeniable smirk playing on his lips.

“I d-didn't mean to... ngh... ‘m sorry...” you whimpered, tears pooling in your eyes from the overstimulation.

Sunghoon pulled you closer to his chest, his hands gently stroking your trembling thighs, his voice soft and soothing. “Shh, it’s okay, angel,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. He turned his gaze to Heeseung. “Hyung, it’s almost been 10 minutes. I think she’s learned her lesson.”

Heeseung exhaled sharply, his gaze softening ever so slightly as he looked at your tear-streaked face. “Fine,” he muttered, releasing your jaw but not without brushing his thumb against your bottom lip.

Your body sank deeper into the bed as Sunghoon whispered, “You did good, angel. Next time, don’t keep us waiting.” He exchanged a look with Heeseung before they repositioned you. With ease, they placed you onto your back, sliding you sideways on the bed, leaving your head dangling slightly over the edge.

The mirror above reflected every inch of your vulnerability—your flushed face, trembling body, and the marks they had left behind. It only heightened the arousal pooling in your core.

Sunghoon leaned in between your legs, his breath fanning against your sensitive heat. “Such a pretty pussy,” he murmured before pressing a soft kiss to your clit, his lips wrapping around the sensitive bud. The gentle suction had your hips bucking involuntarily toward his face, your hands clenching the sheets as pleasure coursed through you.

Heeseung, standing beside the bed, tilted your chin back so your tear-filled eyes met his upside-down. “Be a good girl for us, hmm?” he coaxed, tapping the swollen tip of his cock against your parted lips.

Eager to please, you opened your mouth, and Heeseung wasted no time, pushing himself in until your lips wrapped snugly around him. “Ha… that’s it,” he groaned, gripping your neck lightly as he pushed deeper, your throat tightening around him. You gagged slightly at the intrusion, tears brimming in your eyes, but you welcomed him completely, letting him set the pace.

The moan that escaped you as Sunghoon licked and sucked at your clit sent vibrations up Heeseung’s length, drawing a guttural sound from him. Sunghoon paused to chuckle, pulling away from your soaked folds, his lips glistening with your arousal. “Pretty girl taking it so good, I feel left out,” he teased.

Without waiting for an answer, Sunghoon adjusted your legs, holding them firmly in his grip as he positioned himself. You barely had time to process the stretch as his cock pressed against your entrance, sliding in inch by inch. “Fuck, so tight,” Sunghoon groaned, watching your expression twist with pleasure as he filled you completely.

The moment he bottomed out, your muffled moan against Heeseung’s length sent a shiver down both their spines. Sunghoon began to thrust slowly, each movement causing you to arch into him, your body trembling under their control. “Look at you drooling all over, such a pretty little cockslut for us” Heeseung murmured, running his hand along your jaw before continuing to move in and out of your mouth, savoring every sound you made.

You could only hum in response, your body pliant as they took full control, drawing pleasure from every inch of you. It didn’t take long before the familiar knot began to tighten in your stomach, your body trembling as the overwhelming sensations pushed you closer to the edge.

“Oh? Are you close, pretty?” Sunghoon teased, his voice low and dripping with lust. His hand trailed down to toy with your sensitive clit while his hips snapped harder against yours, the sound of your wetness echoing through the room.

“Seems like it. She’s tensing all over,” Heeseung added, his hands roaming over your chest, pinching your hardened nipples as your muffled whines vibrated around him. “Cum for us, baby.”

With those words, the knot inside you snapped, your release gushing out in waves, soaking Sunghoon as he let out a deep groan. Your cries, muffled by Heeseung, only fueled them further. Moments later, both men followed, releasing warm spurts deep inside you, filling both ends with their heat.

But even as sensitivity rippled through your overstimulated body, Sunghoon didn’t let up, his hips continuing to pound into you relentlessly. A creamy ring formed around the base of his cock as he thrust into you, your body twitching with every movement.

Heeseung finally pulled out of your mouth, allowing your broken sobs and incoherent babbles to escape. “T-too much…! P-please, ngh… fuck!” you cried, tears streaming down your cheeks as you clutched at the sheets beneath you.

“You can take it, angel,” Sunghoon murmured, his voice dark yet soothing as he gripped your thighs tighter, driving himself impossibly deeper.

“Hmm, we know you want it anyway,” Heeseung teased, leaning down to kiss your lips softly, almost mockingly sweet, as though his gentle affection didn’t contrast the relentless way they were working your body to its limits.

And so, they continued, their movements unrelenting as they pushed you further and further, making your head spin and stars dance in your vision.

.

.

.

You had long lost track of how many times you came, your body trembling under their touch. They didn’t stop until you were completely spent, leaving you breathless and utterly satisfied.

author’s note first fic for the event <3 i don’t know if i wrote the hee being mean well but i tried my best . . . also tried to keep it at 2K wc for my own sanity. but either way this is more or less what you guys will receive for when u send in a request for the event ! so far u can see the little sneakpeak of everything on the event archive—also to check the taken slots~ be sure to drop by >///<

taglist @kikidoul @rikiives @contyynishimura @ziiao @lilmarsh-t @bxcndd @laylasbunbunny @d-dilemma

[kquil]

REMUS LUPIN | 23:59 ⏤"SHE'S MY WIFE"

SUM. : you bring remus his lunch with your daughter and come face to face with a new, very rude, intern

TAGS. : fluff ; modern au ; muggle au ; ceo remus ; wife reader ; reader is sooooo wifey ; remus is husband material too ; remus is also ceo material! ; daughter oc (emily) ; remus is daddy ; reader is mommy ; rude intern ; dorcas makes an appearance ; we love her

LENGTH : 1.1k

NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

“Oh!” you smile at the new, young face you see at the front desk, having walked into the company building not too long ago with Remus’ lunch tucked away in your bag as your daughter marches forward in front of you, “Good noon,” Remus had briefly spoken about a new intern shadowing at the front desk earlier in the morning when you had breakfast together; you suppose that this was her. She looked very much like the part, professionally dressed and neat as a pin, though her level of make up was questionable. 

Despite your cheerful and friendly greeting, you were met with silence, suspecting eyes and straight, thin lips that were ever so slightly frowning. It was such an unfamiliar reaction that you were stunned into silence yourself, the tension and lack of a greeting back causing awkwardness to fill the air. You were so used to being received kindly by the usual staff that you didn’t know what to do with yourself when the new worker didn’t reply in kind. 

“Well?” she almost snaps, rather rudely. Her eyes weren’t on you but rather on your daughter, Emily, who stared warily up at her and clutched at your long, flowy skirt with unease.

“I-I’m sorry?” you stutter, further stunned by her discourtesy, your hand moving to cup the back of your daughter’s head as she presses her frightened face into your thigh. 

“Do you have an appointment or not?” she finally snaps and your brows furrow. The clock displayed on the wall behind her indicated that you were right on time for a shift change between the secretaries, with the former assistants going on lunch break and their succeeding secretaries arriving soon to take their place. Usually the exchange was seamless; you wonder what the issue was today. 

“Oh, no, I’m just here to—” she cuts you off with an exaggerated sigh and a roll of her eyes. 

“If you don’t have an appointment then why are you here?” her rude tone continues and she keeps cutting you off, “Do you want me to pass on a message? Want me to refer you to an office? Would you like me to make you an appointment? Tell me already, I don’t have all day,” you had been trying to inform her with every question she posed about your visit but she cut you off each time. Considering that she was the new intern, you were willing to excuse her behaviour due to her lack of experience but her candid judgement of you and your daughter made your blood boil. 

“You are very rude for someone who’s supposed to be the first representative people interact with when they enter—”

She narrows her eyes dangerously and leans over the counter somewhat, but you stand your ground, “That’s none of your business, my job is none of your business, just answer the question,” at this point, your dear Emily was tugging at your skirt and whining softly for comfort, to which you immediately swooped down to lift her into your warm arms. 

“It is my business,” because this is my hardworking husband’s company, you wanted to say but were never one to make such entitled comments. 

“How—?!” you cut her off as she had done to you multiple times. 

“—and it would do you some good to sort out the poor attitude before it lands you in trouble,” 

Just as she opens her mouth to speak again, a familiar face comes into view and moves behind the desk also — it was one of the secretaries who was familiar with your regular visits to the company, Dorcas. 

“Good afternoon! Sorry for my tardiness,” Dorcas greets with a cheerful smile as the intern scoffs and rolls her eyes, “Here for the usual visit, I see,” you smile, shoulders easing with relief as Dorcas winks at you before cooing at Emily, “and how are we today, little Emily?” You and Dorcas focus your attention on your daughter, who smiles happily and looks as relieved as you, especially at the sight of Dorcas, a familiar, friendly face. The two converse for a moment, Dorcas asking her how school was and if she’s been well-behaved, whereby Emily responds articulately, demonstrating her smartness and politeness with a few, soft-spoken words. You were proud of her, she’s just like her father, intelligent, sweet and timid but also with a passionate flame burning deep inside that was just waiting to come to fruition. 

“This is a regular thing?” the intern speaks up with the same audacious tone of voice, effectively cutting the sweet moment between your daughter and Dorcas short. 

“Of course it is,” Dorcas narrows her eyes at the intern, a silent warning for her use of tone, especially in front of Emily. 

“Daddy!” Emily suddenly squeals in your arms and all three of you turn to see your smiling husband walking away from the closing elevator. At this, you place Emily down and she goes racing towards her father. 

“There’s my little girl!” Remus laughs and takes a knee with his arms spread wide open, ready to catch your daughter in his embrace. Using the momentum from her eager sprint to be in his arms, Remus swings her around playfully before tucking her into his side and on his hip, where he kisses her forehead after swiping away her stray baby hairs with his fingers. Watching the touching exchange, you smile warmly and hug Remus around the waist when he finally makes his way over to pull you close and kiss your temple, “hello, dove,” his voice is like sweet honey and it pulls you even closer to him. 

“Good afternoon, darling,” you greet in return, your smile bright and devoid of any bitterness towards the rude intern.

“I thought you two hadn’t arrived yet,” he nods towards the clock behind the front desk, it was well past your usual, punctual visits as you were never one to be tardy, “you’re never this late for lunch, did something happen?” his brows furrowed with worry and you smile at his concern but find it hard to form the words. Instead, you simply refocus your attention and meet the eyes of the new intern behind the desk once more. She had become considerably pale, looking white as a ghost. 

“Sh-she’s—” the intern stutters as Remus’ eyes harden on her. 

“She’s my wife,” his voice didn’t waver at the declaration and he pulls you closer to emphasise your standing, “is there a problem?” there was considerable threat behind his words and the intern was left speechless but also fearful, “because there better not be,” you wanted to speak up throughout the entire exchange but there was nothing for you to say, if she didn’t get her attitude sorted after this confrontation, you wouldn’t dare think about where her life’s trajectory will point to. 

“Let’s go have lunch, darling,” you finally speak up, which, thankfully, Remus relents to. 

A few days after the exchange, the intern supposedly dropped out of the internship program. Not by her volition however. 

A/N : i haven't written for remus in a while so excuse the rustiness. hopefully, you darlings can agree with me on the fact that remus x ceo au is a great combination, right?

NAVI.

TAGLIST : @aastonishment ; @until-i-found-you ; @never-fair ; @celestcies ; @inlovewithremusjohnlupin ; @calums-betch ; @futurecorps3 ; @simpingforthe80s ; @yrluvjane ; @chaosofmanyfandoms ; @storyofaromance ; @loving-and-dreaming ; @somewereinthegalaxi ; @bobs-fav-cat ; @cassandra-nerezza-black ; @stray-bi-kids ; @ttkttt ; @notasadgirlipromise ; @rosalyn-s

[dear-aubade]

Oh my good God your writing is absolutely fabulousssss 🤤 The way you write about Joel and his baby girl is sending me into orbit!!! Genuinely I cannot wait to read more of your work 😍 Do you think that you would ever do one where Joel comforts his baby if she got jealous? There’s a few different ways this could go but the idea of him comforting his sweet girl when she’s upset over something like seeing another woman in Jackson hit on him or something makes me think terrible, nsfw thoughts 😆🩷🎀

This was so fun to write, thank you for the ask anon! Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: When you see a woman making a move on Joel and storm out in a flurry of tears, Joel realizes exactly how much he’s been neglecting his baby. He’s determined to make it up to you.

Notes: Smut, oral (f receiving), dom!joel, sub!reader, praise, nicknames (sweetheart, baby, babygirl, little girl, honey, darling, any fanfic-typical nickname Joel has for reader), jealous!reader, oblivious!joel (sorta), semi-public, implied age gap

You were fuming.

It was Tommy’s birthday and Maria had decided to invite the entire town of Jackson to the Tipsy Bison that night to celebrate. The bar was lively with the hum of chatter and small talk, the smell of whiskey and beer curling in the air, paper lanterns hung in a zig-zag pattern across the ceiling.

Normally you would have loved to go out like this. It gave you an excuse to dress up all pretty and do your makeup, maybe even get Joel to abandon his stone-faced stoic facade and go dancing with you after he’d had a couple drinks.

Except for the fact that the night had gotten off to a horrible start.

The past few weeks Joel had been busy. Very busy. Which you didn’t blame him for, of course—he was one of the town’s strongest working men and the people needed him to help with patrol. But recently a worker at the Bison had sprained his ankle and Seth had asked Joel to help cover him while he healed, which meant that now Joel was gone during the day for patrol and several nights during the week while he fixed barstools or whatever it was Seth had him working on.

The nights he actually was home, he usually went straight to bed with you after placing a kiss to your lips and gave a murmured, “Goodnight.” You couldn’t even remember the last time he’d touched you, really touched you.

And you knew that Joel was a good man, that the reason he was so exhausted all the time now was because he was doing work for the community.

It didn’t stop his girl from getting a little needy and missing him.

Tonight you had taken advantage of the outing. You’d made sure to do your makeup immaculately, with your lips glossed and eyes lined to make them look all doe-like and pretty, how Joel liked them. You’d curled your hair and pinned the top part of it back in a half-updo with a white satin bow. You’d even worn a new dress that you’d traded for a couple days before. It was baby pink, hugging your bust and waist before flaring out the smallest bit around your hips. The short hem paired with your white heels showed off your legs very nicely.

You’d thought that maybe if you put enough effort into your appearance tonight, Joel would want to touch you no matter how tired he was.

Unfortunately, so much self-grooming had caused you and Joel to be a little late, which meant rushing out the door and speed-walking over to the Bison so you two weren’t more tardy than you already were, which meant there wasn’t time for Joel to appreciate his princess in her pretty dress.

Now that you guys were here at the bar, he was hardly looking at you. His large hand was still holding yours so you wouldn’t get lost in the crowd, but he hadn’t even said anything about how you looked tonight. Did he even care? It made you want to whine and cry or stamp your little heeled foot against the floor until he paid attention to you.

But you didn’t. You wanted to be his good girl…and you didn’t want to ruin Tommy’s birthday, either, by making a scene.

Joel kept craning his neck around to look for his brother, and when he found Tommy and Maria standing at the bar, he guided you over with him with a hand on the small of your back.

“Joel!” Tommy exclaimed, expression bright as he embraced his brother—overly bright. It was clear he’d already had a few glasses.

Joel slapped Tommy on the back. “Happy Birthday.”

“Happy Birthday, Tommy,” you said softly right as Maria was thanking the both of you for coming.

“What did you get me?” Tommy asked his brother.

Joel grunted as he put his hand back on your waist. “Right to the point, aren’t you?”

“A book? A shirt? A razor? I’ve been needin’ a new one of those, mine broke just yesterday—“

“Boots,” Joel said. “Traded for ‘em last week. They’re back at the house.”

Tommy grinned. “Awe, now you’ve just ruined the surprise.”

Joel rolled his eyes. “Tommy—“

“Oh, that reminds me! There’s somethin’ I need to show you real quick.” Tommy turned to you. “Mind if I borrow him for a few?”

You frowned. “Well—“

Without waiting for a response Tommy dragged Joel away, heading for some unseen destination across the bar. You couldn’t tell where they were going from your position in the crowd. You tried not to wilt.

A moment later Maria handed you a drink. “You look nice,” she commented.

“At least someone noticed,” you grumbled, taking a sip. The alcohol burned your throat.

“Joel giving you trouble?”

You shrugged.

Maria waited for you to elaborate. When you didn’t, she pressed. “I was going to go sit with some friends over there.” She gestured to her right somewhere. “Want to join?”

You sighed, then shook your head. “I don’t think so. Thank you Maria, but I don’t want my mood to infect your guys’.”

“Well…alright. If you’re sure.” And with that, she left you to your own devices.

It had been hours. Or…maybe a half hour. Forty five minutes? You weren’t sure. Enough time for you to have made a home for yourself on one of the barstools with several now-empty liquor glasses in front of you.

And Joel still wasn’t back.

Your toes were starting to go numb in your tight shoes even just sitting there, so you huffed and got to your feet—you only swayed a little. You were determined to find Joel and make him dance with you.

You weaved in and out of the crowd as you searched. Where had Tommy taken Joel? Was it….this way? That way? You couldn’t think very clearly right now. How many glasses had you….?

You finally spotted the back of Joel’s head through the throng of partygoers. Your eyes lit up and you started to move in that direction, ready to tug on Joel’s hand and stand on your tiptoes for a kiss. Why had you even been upset again?

You squirmed between two people to move closer and—

There was a woman beside Joel. She had honey brown hair and keen, wise eyes. She was older than you—much older. Closer to Joel’s age. Her name was Sharon…Shannon…something?

You froze as she laughed at something someone said and put a hand on Joel’s arm.

Your eyes went wide and you didn’t know whether you wanted to scream or start crying. Joel suddenly turned his head and met your gaze.

Your body decided for you. Tears pooled on your lashes and you turned to duck out of the bar before you made even more of a fool of yourself.

The crisp, cool night air greeted you as you escaped the Tipsy Bison’s warmth. You sniffled and kept walking, not even really sure where you were going.

“Darlin’?” Joel’s voice reached you and you heard footsteps from behind.

You sped up.

But Joel was Joel, and so he quickly caught up to you with his long legs. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Not now, Joel.”

“Hey.” He grabbed you and turned you around, his grip gentle but firm. “Sweetheart, what happened?”

“Get offa me,” you protested, trying to push away.

“What’re you…” He paused. “Are you drunk?”

“No,” you whined. You broke out of his grip and kept walking, turning around the corner of the Bison and walking around the back of the building. “Leave me alone.”

“Baby.”

At his tone you stopped. Even though you were embarrassed and upset and didn’t want to see his face, a small part of you still wanted to be obedient.

He came around your front and lifted your chin so you were looking up at him. His stern gaze melted away and his eyes softened. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

Your bottom lip quivered. “What’s wrong?” You sniffled and took a step back. His hand fell away.

“What’s wrong is that you don’t pay attention to me anymore. You work all day and all night and it feels like you hardly have time for me now. I even got all dressed up tonight for you, wore a new dress and everything, a-and you didn’t say anything, didn’t even look—“

You blinked and more tears ran down your face. “And now I jus’ saw Sharon or Shannon or whoever that woman was flirting with you, and you didn’t do anything—”

You cut off as your face crumpled. You looked down, shivering from the cold.

“I know she’s older and…and probably smarter, and she—”

“Whoa, whoa, sweetheart.” Joel tenderly gripped your upper arms, ducking his head to try and get you to meet your gaze. “What…what are you thinkin’? You think she could ever compare to my babygirl?”

You opened your mouth to respond but he prattled on before you had the chance. “The moment she touched me I pulled away. I don’t know if you didn’t see or what, but…” He shook his head. “Baby, I only have eyes for you. You know that.”

He wiped your tears with his thumbs. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around more often. It’s just until Seth’s friend heals up that I’ll be gone. I should be out of bar duty by next week.”

“And what about tonight?” you whined.

At that, Joel smiled. “You really think I didn’t notice how pretty you looked, sweet girl? I was trying not to get a hard on in the middle of Tommy’s party.”

You almost smiled. Almost. But you were still mad about Shannon, and you still felt needy and lonely and you were pretty sure you were way more than tipsy and you still kind of felt like punching Joel in his handsome face a little bit.

He leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “So sorry that I made my baby feel alone….and needy…and neglected…” He punctuated each word with a kiss to a different part of your face—your cheek, your nose, your lips.

Now that you were alone, Joel’s eyes roved over your body shamelessly. “Look at you….” he cooed. “So beautiful.” His hands fell to your waist. “And this pretty new dress.” His eyes looked lower, down to your feet, and he grinned. “Your shoes match your bow. You said you dressed up just for me?”

You sniffed and nodded. “M’still a little mad at you.”

“I know, pretty girl.” He kissed your jaw. “Why don’t you let me make it up to you?”

That sobered you up real quick. “Wh….here?”

“Why not?” Joel pressed your back to the wall of the building. “No one’s around.”

“But someone could—”

“Shhh.” He kissed lower this time, at the skin beneath your jaw. “Here’s what’s going to happen.” He pressed a kiss lower. “I’m going to make my little girl feel good right here and now so she doesn’t have to wait another minute.” Another kiss. “After that I’m gonna carry her back to our bed….” Another. “And there I’m gonna make love to her until she gets absolutely sick of it.”

You squirmed as his beard dragged along your skin the lower and lower he kissed, lips now at your collarbone. “I-I don’t know if I’d ever get sick of it….”

He nipped at your skin and you gasped. “Then you had better have enough energy to be up all night, sweetheart.”

Joel kissed down the center of your clavicle, the middle of your breasts, down your tummy over your dress….soon he was kneeling before you, looking up to meet your gaze with those dark brown eyes of his.

“Joel—” you said, still a bit uncertain.

“Lean back against the wall, babygirl.”

You hesitated, but obeyed. Any complaints or protests you had against the situation dissolved as soon as Joel lifted one of your legs and pressed a kiss to the inside of your ankle.

His lips traveled upward. He kissed along your calf….the inside of your knee…your thigh….soon he pressed the skirt of your dress up to your waist.

He paused.

Then:

“Oh, sweetheart.” It was nearly a groan. His eyes flicked up to yours. “No panties?”

You smiled shyly. The truth was you’d forgotten almost entirely about that—it had been a quick last minute decision to forego wearing anything beneath your dress, but seeing his eyes dark with lust now….you definitely did not regret it.

“I’m a little glad I didn’t have time to look you over properly before coming here,” he murmured, lips skimming your hip bone. “If I knew you weren’t wearin’ anything under this we would have never left the house.”

You could feel his breath on your inner thigh now as he moved his head and you whimpered. “Joel.”

“Shhh, no whining honey, ‘less it’s about how good it feels.” He placed a kiss right above the patch of skin above your bud. “Just let that pretty head of yours empty—I’ll take care of you.”

Whatever you were about to say in response left your head as Joel hiked your leg over his shoulder and started to lick at your clit.

You gasped and one of your hands threaded through his salt and pepper curls to steady yourself. His tongue flicked against your swollen, needy button teasingly. Your lower belly simmered with the heat of crackling coals.

Joel’s large hand found purchase on your hip and he squeezed in response to each noise that escaped you. He was soon embracing you with his full mouth, tongue licking between your folds, at your bud, into you. It was as if he was everywhere, helping himself to your taste and enjoying every bit of it.

“Oh,” you sighed, pushing your hips into his mouth involuntarily and his head bobbed in time with his motions.

Each flick, each twist of his tongue had you nearly writhing, and you were pretty sure it was only Joel’s hand on your hip keeping you from collapsing.

“Joel, I—it’s—oh please, I can’t—” You were babbling mindlessly, head empty, unsure of what you were even really saying.

Joel just chuckled against you, the vibrations running through your core making you gasp.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he murmured as he sucked and licked at your wetness. “‘S like you were made for me—just keep rockin’ your hips—oh, good girl.”

He lapped at you as you let out a high-pitched whine. You were there, right there, with his nose nudging at your clit and his warm wet tongue pushing into you and he was shaking his head and oh—

You bit your knuckle to muffle your moan as you came, your folds drenched, your lower belly warm, your legs shaking, your clit tingling.

“That’s it, that’s it.” Joel kept murmuring praises as you came down from your high, hips squirming from oversensitivity.

He placed soft and slow kisses on your right hip before rising and gripping your waist. Your legs nearly buckled.

Joel chuckled and caught you as you stumbled a bit, sweeping you up in his arms, the ease in which he lifted you making your belly swoop.

He pressed his lips to your hairline in an achingly sweet kiss. “How’s my girl feeling now?”

You let out a happy hum and rested your head on his shoulder. “Better.”

“Good.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he started to walk, carrying you like you were a princess. You supposed that you were, in a sort of way. You were his.

“Don’t go fallin’ asleep yet, babygirl.”

You hadn’t even realized that you’d been drifting off until he had said something. It wasn’t your fault. The gentle sway of him walking with you had rocked you to sleep…

“Sorry.” You yawned.

“I’m the one who’s sorry, honey,” he said. He held you closer. “And you gotta stay awake with me. I got a lot more I wanna do to apologize to my princess.”

The low voice he used made your heart flutter.

You were in for a very long night.

[dreamdrbbles]

so here’s my first drabble! interpreted from a very fun dream i had. it’s definitely a fantasy, so if you don’t mind suspended reality a little bit with me.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’ve finally convinced yourself to go back to school and get your degree, you’re late to your first class and your professor doesn’t take too kindly to tardiness. or, does he?

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: aaron pierre as dr. pierre & the black!fem reader as you.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: heavy smut, power imbalance, daddy kink, crude language, a bunch of grown folks things. minors do not interact.

Going back to school was your greatest accomplishment to date. At thirty, it wasn’t easy to take the leap and register for classes. You were terrified of being seen as the old freshman, but your dreams held more weight than your ego. You were proud of the life you’d built, sacrificing your own education to work and save so your younger brother could have the college experience he deserved. At just eighteen, you stepped up for your family, getting a full-time job to help fund his education. Now, ten years later, your baby brother was well on his way to earning a master’s degree. It was finally time to center yourself for once.

“Shit!” you yelped, bolting upright in bed. Your alarm hadn’t gone off, and the panic was immediate. You were supposed to be up an hour ago, but now you were going to be late for your very first college class. The one everyone told you not to take because it was at 8 a.m. You’d brushed them off, thinking, I used to wake up earlier than that for work. I got this. Clearly, you didn’t. It was 7:15, and you had 45 minutes to pull yourself together and get to Magnolia A&M University, your local HBCU.

Luckily, you’d picked out your outfit the night before. You had work later at the country club, and tennis lessons were on the schedule. That meant your Nike tennis skirt and matching top would have to do. After a rushed shower, skincare routine, and throwing your hair into a curly pineapple, you grabbed your keys. It was a ten-minute drive to campus, but with your luck today, who knew if you’d make it on time?

Magnolia A&M wasn’t just a school; it was a deliberate choice. Your family had always valued community and Black excellence, so an HBCU was a no-brainer. Every time you stepped on campus, you wished you’d started right after high school. Now, at thirty, you felt too old for frat parties or the Battle of the Bands, but you still loved the sense of unity. The royal blue and orange school colors? You wore them with pride.

You sped to campus like you had a getaway driver’s license, thanking the ancestors you didn’t get a ticket. After finding the right building, you made it to the lecture hall only 15 minutes late. African-American History was your first class of the day—and your minor. It had been the first course you registered for, the one you were most excited about.

As you pushed open the lecture hall doors, all eyes turned toward you, including those of your professor. You couldn’t see him clearly from the back of the room, but his posture alone radiated disapproval. Your stomach sank as you scanned the rows of seats. Of course, the only open spot was smack dab in the front row. Middle seat.

You braced yourself for the walk of tardy shame. Muttering “excuse me” and “sorry” at least ten times, you maneuvered your thick frame between tables and chairs. The awkward ordeal felt like it dragged on forever, but finally, you slid into the empty seat, heart racing.

The professor’s voice was what caught your attention first—deep, rich, and laced with a smooth British accent. You froze mid-search in your bag for a notebook and pen. When your gaze finally lifted to meet his, you nearly forgot to breathe.

Goddamn.

The word echoed in your mind before you could stop it. Beautiful wasn’t a word you usually reserved for men, but no other word fit. His sharp, masculine features contrasted with a pair of thick lashes framing aquamarine eyes. His neat facial hair outlined full, pink lips, and you couldn’t stop your thighs from pressing together as a very salacious thought crept into your mind. one that started with his wet duo on your first set of lips, and ending on your second.

Focus, girl. Eyes off the man and on the syllabus.

You forced yourself to listen, trying to ignore the low hum of his voice that made your spine tingle. Curiosity bubbled up as you wondered what a man from London was doing teaching African-American Studies in Texas. Almost as if reading your mind, he began explaining.

He told the class how reading The Autobiography of Malcolm X in middle school ignited his fascination with race relations in the West. That fascination led him to pursue a bachelor’s, master’s, and doctorate in African-American Studies. The name “Dr. Aaron Pierre” on your schedule had conjured an image of an older, graying professor who had more experience than book knowledge. You weren’t expecting a thirty year old Adonis who looked like he belonged on the cover of GQ.

The class went on like normal, an introductory first day of school. The hour ticked by as you gawked at your professor’s arms in the fitted black polo shirt he wore. It wasn’t until everyone around you had gotten up that you realized class had been dismissed. You followed suit, only to have your name called out in that deep baritone. How had he remembered it? Your introduction was one of the first of at least seventy-five.

“Can I see you in my office? You missed the first few minutes of class, just want to make sure you’re up to speed.”

Your throat was suddenly rivalry for the Sahara desert, your stomach hollowed. You were about to get kicked out of your first college course, all because your stupid alarm didn’t sound. You followed him to his office in silence, he opened the heavy wooden door for you and you ambled inside. Once the door closed behind you, you turned on your heels with an explanation at the ready. Until you realized his eyes were scanning your frame.

“The outfit… it’s different.” His comment caught you off guard, making your brows knit together. Was he picking on you? You glanced down at your tennis skirt. It hugged your curves, sure, but it wasn’t like you’d rolled out of bed in pajamas.

“I work after class,” you explained, tone sharp but polite. “I’m a tennis instructor.” His eyebrows lifted slightly, a flicker of interest flashing across his face. “Tennis?” He asked as he walked past you, to the other side of the cherry wood desk.

“Yeah, tennis.” You straightened your back, meeting his gaze. You’d been playing since elementary school. Your parents always joked that you could’ve been the next Venus or Serena, but you were realistic. You weren’t that good, just good enough to teach seven and eight year olds the basics.

Dr. Pierre leaned back against his desk, crossing his arms. “Let me be clear. Lateness will not be tolerated in my class. I take my work very seriously, and I expect my students to do the same.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. He really expected a room full of teenagers and young adults to be on time for an 8 a.m. lecture? Cute, and delusional. “Dr. Pierre,” you said, softening your voice. “I apologize. My alarm didn’t go off, and I worked late last night. I promise, it won’t happen again.”

His gaze lingered on you, and then he said, with absolute confidence, “I know.”

Your head tilted slightly, trying to figure out what he meant. He didn’t know you. And he sure as hell wasn’t your daddy. “Uh, okay. Whatever that means,” you mumbled, more to yourself than to him.

He smiled—a slow, deliberate curve of his lips—and then, to your utter shock, said, “You’re beautiful.”

“Tha-thank you,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Dr. Pierre’s expression remained unreadable as he began to close the distance between you. Each deliberate step sent a jolt of electricity racing down your spine, rooting you to the spot. You couldn’t move, couldn’t think—completely stunned by his actions. By the time he was within arm’s reach, your breath was shaky, uneven. His hand reached out, wrapping gently but firmly around your wrist. The warmth of his touch sent a spark up your arm, and before you could process it, he pulled you closer.

Your chest brushed against his, and the faint, intoxicating scent of teakwood and cedar enveloped you. The combination was rich and grounding, but it wasn’t just the cologne—he smelled good. Too good.

He leaned down slowly, his aquamarine eyes locking onto yours, heavy with intent. You were hyperaware of everything in that moment; the way his grip lingered, the heat radiating from his body, and the way his lashes framed those impossible eyes. Your faces were so close now that your noses barely brushed. The faintest touch, but enough to make your heart race like you’d run a marathon.“Can I?” he murmured, his voice low and velvet-smooth, like a secret meant only for you. The words hung in the air, and without hesitation, you gave him what he needed, your consent.

The moment his lips met yours, the world seemed to fade away. His kiss was slow, deliberate, and impossibly soft. He moved with care, as though savoring every second, every touch. You felt your knees weaken, and for a fleeting moment, you feared you might melt into the floor right where you stood. The scent of him, the warmth of his lips, the way his hand slid down to cradle the small of your back—it was all-consuming. Time slowed, and the only thing that existed was him. When he pulled back, just enough to let your noses brush again, his eyes searched yours as if waiting for a sign. Your lips still tingled from his kiss, and your heart thundered in your chest.

“I-I’m going to be late for work.” You stumbled, he laughed, amusement of the irony coming from the depths of his diaphragm. “You didn’t give a fuck about being late to my class, am I not just as important? Hm?” He inquired, tilting your head up so that you were staring in those oceanic orbs. He subtly pushed you backwards until the bend of your knees collided with his desk. With ease, he picked you up and sat you on top of it. He kneeled down before you, as if your body was an altar he would pray to. “You smell so good.” He uttered as he leaned in and pressed his nose to the center of your now soaked panty, taking in your aroma. It was the sexiest thing that had ever happened to you.

“I can’t believe this…” You meant to keep that inside, but clearly your mind had other plans.

“Believe it.” He responded with a laugh. “I wanted you the moment I saw you walk in my class, baby.” Skillfully he pulled your panties off completely, opening the drawer next to him and dropping them in there as his own personal souvenir. He pushed your skirt up onto your body until it was damn near a belt, balling up the pleats in his hands as he devoured your center, lick by lick.

He feasted on you as if he would never be nourished again, sipping your waters as if they came from the finest of natural spring. hell, clearly they had. “Oh my fucking God!” You squeaked as his lips wrapped around your pulsating clit, giving it a sweet, sloppy french kiss. His middle and index finger grazing your drenched slit as he slipped both inside. his thick digits filled you up, causing your muscles to tighten around him. He grunted against your pussy, imagining how tightly you would grip his manhood.

“That’s not my name princess, I’m not God.” He was to you, in this moment. he had sucked your free will right out of your coochie. What was his fucking name? “What’s my name?” He inquired as if he was reading your mind once again. His fingers continued to please you, grazing his smooth tips against your ribbed g-spot. This nigga had a Ph.d in more than just some history. “Doctorrrrrrrrr….” You whined out, dragging out the profession as he pressed sweet kisses right above your gushing mound while you smothered his digits in your sweetness.

“Doctor….daddy!” You cried out, hoping that there was no one in the near vicinity that would’ve heard your outburst. Another laugh as he slowly slid his fingers out of you, now covered and dripping in your cum. “Doctor daddy..I like that.” He retorted before slipping his fingers into his mouth, cleaning you off of him one by one as you watched in awe. Stunned by his insistence of eye contact. Removing his fingers, he used the same two to beckon you to come close to him, once you sat up he leaned over you, his lips ghosting yours before he spat the mixture of your cum and his saliva into your mouth before engaging you in a messy lip lock.

The kiss was the distraction. You had completely missed the unbuckling of his belt, the sound of his zipper or him removing his hard inches out of his dress pants. Before you realized it, he pulled you to the edge of the desk and slipped inside of you. Your walls reacted before your brain could, gripping onto him for dear life. So surprised by the intrusion that it felt like you would push him out all together. Your breathing hitched, in a way to relax your body so that he could continue exploring the depths of you.

“Augh!” You groaned out as he worked the first few inches of himself in and out of your throbbing center. He pressed his lips to yours repeatedly, whispering for you to hush every now and again. “Be a good girl, take this dick…if you can be late to my class, surely you can handle dick.” He mumbled, his accent causing a chill to run up your spine. He was gentle, despite his rough approach. He fed you little by little until your pelvises collided and you were completely full of him. He laid you on the desk, hands on each side of your head, eyes connected as he began to stroke, deep and powerful. “Look at you, such a pretty girl. Wrapped around me like you love me.”

‘I DO.’ You wanted to scream. But instead melodic moans escaped your warm lips, words were inconveniently absent. You can tell your lack of verbal participation was bothering him just a bit, by the way the swing of his hips picked up with every new thrust. After a moment or two, he was fucking you relentlessly. His thick crown had found your spot and was no longer caressing it with care. He was beating your shit.

“Are you gonna’ be late again?” he asked, every syllable being drilled into your guts. Your stomach twisted and turned with each pump, but he peered down at you like he expected an answer, like your brain could comprehend what he was even saying.

You parted your lips to speak, but failed once again, a moan being the only verbalization you could produce. the strokes came to an abrupt stop, he pulled out of you without so much as a warning. “Wait!” you called out, desperately, holding your hands out like you could put him back in your damn self. he chuckled darkly. “You think you can ignore me and cum?”

You couldn’t realistically promise you’d never be late again, you didn’t control traffic, or flat tires, or bad hair days but you would’ve said anything to feel him again. “I’ll never be late again, Doctor. I promise. Just please…let me cum all over you.” You purred, making empty promises.

“I don’t believe you.” He added curtly, slapping the head of his massive erection against your clit, watching his pre-cum glaze your bulb. “But your pussy feels too good for me to argue.” He concluded as he entered you again, continuing his euphoric pillage of your body. The knots in your belly felt permanent, your toes curled as your legs wrapped around him. Your climax approaching with the volt of a thousand watts. His wood throbbed inside of you, pulsating with the same intensity. He was meeting you at your peak. “Fuck…” He grunted, proving your theory right. You draped your arms across his neck, leaning in and pressing your lips to his jawline, placing kisses until you reached his ear. “Cum with me, Dr. Pierre…I wanna feel you dripping out of me.” Your salacious words seemed to do the trick as both of you unraveled at the very same time.

You should’ve felt shame, or even disillusioned. But you felt nothing short of satisfied and empowered. Your legs were shaking and you were full of a strangers seed, but dammit was your first day of school memorable.

“8:00 AM, Wednesday. Don’t be late…” He spoke as he buckled his belt, looking up at you with those piercing orbs. “Oh, and that seat in front of me is now your assigned seat.” He added, prompting a laugh to fall from your lips.

“See you Wednesday, Dr. Pierre.” You concluded as you exited his office and back into the real world.

Fuck, you were late for work.

[sl-ut]

Can you please do a Jesse x Miller Reader smut where Joel and Tommy catch them and Ellie comes in like 😨 then starts mocking them THANK YOUUU🫶

the thing

omg i’ve had this request in my inbox for like two years :’(( so sorry but i’ve been really digging the actor for jesse in the show so here we are! it’s not specific to the show so you can imagine it as live action or game jesse! i also went kinda off track from the request but has similar vibes only it's tommy teasing them and not ellie. also there's no real smut but i would def be open to doing a part two with some!

pairing: jesse (tlou) x fem!miller!reader

description: jackson was not a very big place, so why did it take so long for them to connect?

warnings: slightly nsfw towards the end but no smut, swearing, slight au but it doesn’t really change anything (joel and ellie don’t interact in this but in my mind it’s important that they have made up), reader is referenced to not fit into jesse’s clothes but there’s no indication of whether its too big or too small so that’s up to your imagination, alcohol and weed use, mentions of violence and r’s shitty ex but neither actually appear.

words: 4.8K

date posted: 6/5/25

Jesse found himself tapping his foot repeatedly against the pavement, eyes flickering down to check the faltering watch on his wrist, always a minute behind no matter how many times he rewound it. Oh well, he was one of the few in Jackson who had the luxury of owning a watch while everyone else relied on wall clocks alone. Still, no matter how slow the moving hands of his watch were, the girl was now at least ten minutes late.

“Good afternoon,” her voice chirped as she rounded the corner with an easy grin on her face and her preferred horse following in tow, expression betraying absolutely no remorse for her tardiness, “you ready?”

“I was ready ten minutes ago,” he told her, rolling his eyes, “you know, when we were supposed to head out? What’s your excuse this time?”

The girl scoffed, “I was in the bakery all morning, you know how Penny gets–you don’t leave ‘til she says so.”

His head tilted to the side for a moment; as far as her past excuses went, this was probably the most believable, especially since he caught a whiff of warm cinnamon as she came to stand next to him. 

“Alright,” he nodded, “I’ll let you off this time. Let’s just get moving, we’re already behind schedule.”

“Sir, yes sir,” she saluted him, turning to climb atop her horse with ease. 

Until recently, the girl was not someone that Jesse would have considered a friend. He knew her from around town, of course, and they generally ran in the same circle (which was basically just a group of people within a three year age range), but they had only spoken a handful of times prior to being assigned to patrol together. He’d actually been the first to make her feel welcome within the younger crowd in Jackson when she’d first arrived, but she soon started dating a boy named Keegan, who Jesse particularly did not like, while he had started hanging out with Ellie and Dina more once he and Dina had started dating. 

Now that they had been spending more time together a few times per week, Jesse wondered how they hadn’t hit it off from the beginning. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t initially attracted to her, as he’d always thought she was very pretty, and she was impossibly easy to talk to. His only flaw was the fact that he had given her space after she had arrived bruised and battered and clearly so clearly mentally drained by whatever she had faced out in the wild, though it had been for that very reason that she became so easily attached to Keegan. He was the first one that she had felt personally close to when she arrived in town, which had translated to a lingering sense of protection, even when he wasn’t always the nicest to her. 

The patrol had gone relatively easily, coming across only a small handful of infected along the way, which the pair of them were able to take out within seconds of spotting them, and they had been able to make up for lost time. Conversation flowed easily between the pair–random questions, town gossip, and just about anything that either of them could think of. 

“Are you going to the thing tomorrow night?” 

“The thing?” Jesse hummed teasingly, “Which thing?”

“I mean, it is the only thing going on tomorrow night,” she joked, “you know, the thing!”

“Oh, that thing,” Jesse snorted, “the one at the Bison? Tomorrow night at seven o’clock sharp?”

She giggled, “Yes, that thing at that specific time and place. Are you going?”

Jesse shrugged, “Dunno. I was gonna go, but I think Dina is and we haven’t really been on the best terms lately. I feel like I’d just be looking for trouble.”

“Oh shit, I feel like every time I hear about you two it’s something different.”

Jesse watched her from the corner of his eye for a moment, eyes following the sunlit glow as it traced her features. He sighed, “Yeah, well…I don’t even know what to say about that. I care about Dina, a lot, but I don’t know if I see this going on for much longer. I feel like I need someone a little more mature, less prone to drama, and she needs someone that…”

“Doesn’t have a stick up their ass 24/7?”

His head whirled to the side, catching her beaming face as she fought back a laugh at his own shocked expression, “Excuse me? Don’t make me report you to Tommy for insubordination.”

She scoffed, “Oh please, like he’s gonna do anything.”

“You’re right about that,” Jesse rolled his eyes, “I’d probably get in more trouble for it than you would, kiss ass.”

“I am not a kiss ass!” She argued, “He just loves me more than he loves you. Maybe you just need to try harder.”

“Maybe I just need to be related to him. That worked out easily enough for you, didn’t it?”

Those who had any sort of personal connection with Tommy Miller had heard tell of his older brother, the one who hadn’t been the same since the end of civilization and had been his inspiration to branch out from the QZ and seek some sort of better life, whether that would be with the Fireflies or not. The last he’d seen him was back in the Boston QZ months before he had even arrived in Jackson. No one would have expected him to ever hear of him again, let alone for the older Miller to turn up at Jackson’s gates with two young girls at his side. 

They had all made their own impacts on the community. Joel had become a trusted councilmember and quickly became someone that people saw as a strong leader, while Ellie had become known for her fiery temper and headstrong attitude. The third member of their party, however, had become a central figure in Jackson’s social scene, quickly becoming popular among the younger crowd while also making an effort to maintain familiarity with as many other members of the community as possible. She was often responsible for the parties that took place and seasonal celebrations, often being seen as a goody-two-shoes to most while also having a tendency to party with her inner circle. Jesse often wondered how she had the energy to do it all, and he was not the only one who found it so surprising to discover that the girl made of sunshine was the daughter of Jackson’s resident grump himself, Joel Miller. 

She didn’t answer him, huffing quietly as she rolled her eyes. She was not angry with him, not truly, but it was difficult to not feel irked by his comment considering that some around town often criticized her father and uncle for giving her and Ellie special treatment. Of course, they felt more of an attachment to the two young girls, as would anyone else for their own children, but she did not feel that either of them let her off any easier than anyone else when she landed herself into trouble. 

“You’re going with Keegan, I assume?” Jesse asked, suddenly self conscious by her silence, “To the thing, I mean.”

She snorted a laugh, “You assumed wrong. We broke up two weeks ago.”

“Oh,” he swallowed, unsure of how to proceed. He’d never heard her sound so annoyed in the entire time that he had known her, “Sorry to hear.”

“It’s fine. I just realized one day that he treated me like shit. I’m over it. Though, I’m surprised you didn’t already know. Last I heard he’s been spreading it around town faster than the clap.”

Jesse choked out a laugh, “Don’t tell me…”

“A rumour I heard after we broke up,” she chuckled, “but he’s apparently shacked up with Emily, Theresa, and Melissa since then, so it’s not out of the question. Honestly, doc says I didn’t show any signs so I don’t really care.”

“Fair,” he nodded, “so are you still going?”

“Dunno, I guess I am the one who planned it…” she thought for a moment before a small smirk appeared on her face, “I’ll go if you do. We can drink and endure the presence of our exes together.”

Jesse sighed, “That’s a hard bargain you’re driving.”

“Some call me a businesswoman by heart,” she shrugged, “what do you say?”

He turned his gaze back to her, feeling a small stutter in his chest as their eyes met. She offered him a soft smile, melting his weak attempt at playing cool away until he found himself relenting, agreeing to attend the thing together despite his innate desire to avoid his ex-girlfriend at all costs. The grin that split her face made his limbs feel like jelly and brought a scarlet flush up the nape of his neck and across his cheeks. They continued on in silence, only sharing a few more words throughout the rest of their patrol route until the gates of Jackson came back into view. 

He dismounted his horse once they were inside, offering a hand up to the girl as she did the same. He was glad that the weather had been warmer that day, meaning that he had gone without gloves for patrol and he was able to feel the warmth of her hand against his own calloused flesh. They walked side by side as they led their horses back to the stables, occasionally bumping shoulders and sharing small smiles before they met Tommy and Maria at the gate of the stables. 

“Hey kiddos,” Tommy greeted them both, leaning against the stable door as they filed in one-by-one, “how’d things go?”

Jesse began a review of their patrol, what they saw, what they didn’t see, how many infected they’d taken out, what sort of changes in the landscape they might have noticed, while Maria moved over to help the younger woman unsaddle and brush her horse. He could overhear a few words and giggles from the next stall over where the two women discussed the event taking place later that evening. Finally, she appeared next to Tommy to interrupt his report.

“I gotta head to help set up for tonight, but did you want to just meet at my place and go together? I was gonna go a bit early if that’s okay.”

Jesse’s ears burned at the look of surprise on Tommy’s face, his large brown eyes flickering between the young man and his niece, “Uh, yeah sounds good.”

“Great! See you later, then.”

Maria took her place as she disappeared out of the stables, sharing a look of amusement with her husband as they turned their attention back to the young man before them who seemed to wish he could shrink into the floor beneath him. 

“Something you wanna tell us?” Maria asked with a grin. She was a no nonsense woman for the most part, but she couldn’t help the entertainment she found in the love lives of Jackson’s young people. 

“Uh,” Jesse hesitated, “no. We–uh, we’re just going to the thing tonight.”

Tommy let out a deep chuckle at the discomfort on the younger man’s face, “I see. And I assume you asked Joel’s permission before you asked his daughter to the thing?”

“She asked me,” Jesse argued, “I wasn’t really expecting it.”

“So you’re telling me you only accepted because you didn’t wanna hurt her feelings?” The older man crossed his arms over his chest with mock aggression. 

“No!” Jesse blurted, “I just didn’t know she saw me like that.”

“Mhm,” Tommy hummed, stifling a laugh, “Well I suggest you head over and have a conversation with Joel about this before he finds out through someone else, AKA me.”

Maria swatted his arm, “Give him a break, Tommy. She’s a big girl now, she can take care of herself.”

“Oh I don’t doubt that, I’m looking out for Jesse here. Not sure if he’ll be able to take care of himself if Joel walks into the party tonight and catches this one pawing at his daughter.”

Jesse sputtered in response, his usually cool facade completely broken under the pressure placed by the girl’s uncle, especially now when he considered that the pressure would be applied tenfold when Joel found out that he was now pursuing his daughter. He and Joel had been close ever since he had arrived in Jackson, and especially since he had started hanging out with Ellie, but his relationship with Dina had been famously unstable and he didn’t want Joel to suspect that it might be the same way if Jesse were to start dating his daughter. So, as soon as he was able to escape the clutches of Tommy Miller, he set out in the direction of Joel’s “office”, which was one of the older and uninhabited homes in town that he used as a headquarters for the construction crew he and Tommy had assembled. 

Joel seemed surprised when Jesse began his speel, explaining how he genuinely cared about the girl, and that it may seem soon after their respective breakups but it felt right in the moment, and finally ending it by giving Joel his permission to hurt him if he did anything wrong. Joel was silent for a few beats, watching Jesse through narrowed eyes before he took into a roaring laugh, fist slamming down on the table as he took in the nervous state of the normally confident young man. 

“Well,” Joel cleared his throat as he composed himself, “I can tell you I wasn’t expecting that today.”

“So…” Jesse shifted uncomfortably, “is this a good sign or…”

“Listen,” Joel sighed, “I’ve come to learn that she’s not gonna listen to me when it comes to these things, but I do appreciate this. You’ve already got a step up from that ass-hat Keegan, but that’s not saying much. Oh, and if you hurt her, I’m not gonna be asking permission before I lay hands on you. Understood?”

Jesse gulped, but his nerves began to lessen, “Yes, sir.”

That night, Jesse found himself climbing the front steps to Joel Miller’s house at six-thirty on the dot, a small smile finding its way onto his face as he found his date seated on a patio chair with a book in her lap. She turned her face up to offer him a similar expression as he greeted her, sliding a piece of folded paper between the pages of her book to save her place before setting it aside.

“Hey,” she greeted in return, standing up to meet him halfway, “you’re right on time. You trying to impress me, or something?”

“Something like that,” he shrugged, eyes taking in her patch-work sundress and dark brown boots, “you look nice–pretty, I mean.”

She glanced down at her dress, smiling bashfully, “thanks. Hey, can I ask you something before we go?”

He nodded, “Yeah, sure.”

“Is this a date?” She blurted, wringing her fingers together nervously, “I mean, I didn’t mean for it to be, but then my dad said you came to ask his permission to take me out, and then I realized that I sort of want it to be, but I didn’t want to assume anything because I’m the one who asked you, and–”

Jesse wanted the earth to swallow him whole. This entire time, he’d been shocked but elated that she had asked him out, especially considering that he didn’t think it was likely that he was going to muster up the courage to ask her on his own, only to discover that she had only asked him as friends?

“Oh god,” Jesse groaned, “oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make things weird between us. I just thought, since we were talking about Keegan and Dina and then you asked me that maybe–holy shit, I’m an idiot.”

The girl grasped his forearm tightly, regaining his attention from the physical touch, “No, no, I just… I didn’t know you saw me that way. I do like you, Jesse, I just think I didn’t want to admit it until I knew you liked me too.”

His heart continued to race, only now for an entirely different reason, “Well, I do. A lot.”

She grinned at him, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his cheek, “Well I like you too. A lot.”

The pair stepped closer to one another, his eyes falling to her lips as his cheek burned from the affection. She tilted her face upward, an invitation for him to invade her space even further, which he had no issue in obliging as he dipped down to meet her in a soft, curious kiss. It was only a peck, and then another, and then another before their lips met in a solid, proper embrace, each of them gaining familiarity with one another as his hands slid around her back, bunching in the fabric of her dress as he pulling her even closer, her own running through his silky black hair. 

The sound of a throat being cleared forced them apart, their hands flying off of one another in seconds as they turned to find the source of the noise, finding both Miller brothers at the foot of the stairs, one wearing a deep frown while the other could barely contain his laughter behind a shit-eating grin. 

“Jesse,” Joel grumbled, climbing up the step slowly before he turned to square himself up to the younger man, “glad to see you found your way. Now if you don’t mind taking this off of my porch–and never let me see that again.”

“Dad.”

Joel turned his stern stare to his daughter, raising his eyebrows at her before pressing a kiss to her temple, “I mean it. Don’t need to see this meathead pawing at you all the time.”

“Leave ‘em alone, Joel,” Tommy chortled, “we’ve just gotta get you set up now. Lots of single ladies around Jackson.”

Joel snorted, turning on his heel and entering his home without another word. Leave it to him to flee at the first mention of his dating life. Tommy patted Jesse on the back, pausing to kiss his niece on the head as well before he followed his brother inside with a teasing farewell to the young couple.

They stood there for a moment, each of them bathing in the embarrassment of being caught making out by her father and uncle before she turned back to him, breaking the silence.

“He doesn’t think you’re a meathead, if it’s any consolation. He really likes you.”

“I think that was before I was dating his daughter.”

She tilted her head in confusion, “Do I have a sister I don’t know about?”

“Uh…” Jesse stammered, “not dating, I just meant–”

She laughed, punching him on the arm as she pushed past him and slipped down the steps. She glanced over her shoulder as she called back to him, “I’m messing with you. You don’t gotta ask me anything just yet, but don’t let me catch you looking at other girls.”

Jesse breathed out a laugh. The Miller family would be the death of him, that much he was sure of. He jogged to catch up with her, allowing her to slip her fingers through his own as she dragged him off in the direction of the Tipsy Bison.

Just over an hour later, the bar was filled to the brim, laughter and chatter echoing around the building over the sound of the folk music being played by the small ensemble off to the side. Jesse leaned against the bar, eyes scanning the crowd in search of his date. He’d gotten sucked into helping Seth with loading crates of liquor into the building, reluctantly leaving her side for only twenty minutes and now he had completely lost sight of her in the crowd. 

“Looking for someone?” 

Jesse turned his head to the side, finding his ex-girlfriend leaning onto the bar next to him with a glass of whiskey in her hand, “Oh, hey.”

“Hey,” she narrowed her eyes at him, “so, are you looking for someone?”

He shrugged, “and what if I am?”

“Then I would like to hear it from you,” she stated, “look, I get it, we’re broken up. Just be honest with me.”

He sighed, but nodded his head as he finally spoke the girl's name, “We’re here together.”

Her eyebrows rose instinctively, but quickly dropped into their natural position, “Can’t say I’m that surprised. I always knew you liked her.”

“Dina,” he groaned, but she cut him off.

“I’m not looking to start anything,” she told him, “at first, I figured we’d get back together, we always do. But, we honestly should have broken up a long time ago. I’ll always care about you, but I’m happy that you’re happy.”

He was surprised by this, considering that his ex-girlfriend had always taken rejection poorly and usually found a way to turn situations in her favour, but she would have had to have been blind to ignore the glaring issues that they had endured in their relationship, “Thanks, Dina. It means a lot. But maybe now that we’re over, you could give Ellie a chance. She’s been into you for as long as I can remember.”

Dina turned her attention to where Ellie was laughing with Maria across the bar, a small smile growing on her lips, “You think so?”

“God, she’s definitely considered killing me just to get to you,” he joked, “don’t rush into it if you’re not ready, but keep it in mind.”

She flushed, nodding her head as she placed her hand over his on the bar for a moment, squeezing it one final time before she pushed away from the bar and headed off in the direction of Ellie, eagerly pulling her away from Maria and onto the dancefloor. 

“What did she want?” 

He turned his gaze back to where Dina had previously stood, finding the narrowed gaze of the girl he’d previously been in search of, “Nothing, she was just asking about you.”

“Really?” She crossed her arms, “That’s it?”

“Why?” He smirked, turning his body to face her, “You jealous?”

She shrugged, “Should I be?”

“No,” he leaned closer, taking her hand in his, “she said she was happy for me, and I told her to go talk to Ellie.”

She glanced over, finding the two smiling girls on the dancefloor as her expression softened, “Oh. Yeah, Els has been mooning over her for years.”

“I know,” he laughed, “just like you have been for me.”

She turned to him with a growing grin on her face, “Oh please, you’re the one who asked my dad for permission to take me to a public function.”

“Oh don’t remind me,” he dropped his forehead to her shoulder to hide his embarrassment, “I thought he was gonna mount my head on his wall.”

“He still might,” she shrugged, “just depends on how long it takes you to get me a drink.”

He stood back to his full height, an easy smile finding its way across his features, “Yes, ma’am.”

After three drinks and a quick trip outside to take advantage of Jesse’s harvest from Eugene’s stash, the pair found themselves twirling around the dancefloor for hours on end before they finally bid their farewells, giggling their way down the torch-lit streets of Jackson hand-in-hand. His heart thrummed in his chest everytime he glanced over at her, already finding her wide, glossy eyes staring up at him as they walked. 

“Can I stay with you tonight?” she asked, a soft twinkle in her eyes as she rested her head onto his shoulder. He maneuvered his arm to wrap around her shoulders without ever letting go of her hand, now interlocked and resting against her collarbone. “I’d say we could go to my place, but I think it’s too early on for my dad to catch you sneaking out.”

He laughed as he pivoted their direction to head towards his own lodgings, a small apartment above the seamstress’s place, “Yeah, I’d like to keep my head for a little longer.”

“I would like you to, too.”

Jesse’s apartment was fairly bare, furnished with just the basics, but decorated just enough to make it feel like his. He shared it, of course, with another guy a few years younger than them, but he had yet to return from the party and if things went well with the girl he’d been dancing with all night, Jesse was hopeful that he wouldn’t be back until morning. 

“Wanna watch a movie?” Jesse nodded to the small box TV in the corner, then to the small shelf containing a handful of VHS tapes, “choices are limited but I think we have a little bit of everything. I think we even have a chick-flick around here somewhere.”

She nodded silently as he guided her to his room, fishing around for a baggy t-shirt and shorts for her to change into before leaving her to change. He set the movie up, selecting one that was just interesting enough that it was watchable, but just boring enough that neither of them would be opposed to missing out on parts of it. He popped one of the windows near the ratty old couch open, digging out a bag of hastily rolled joints and his trusty lighter, leaning back on the couch as he waited for her to emerge from his room.

She looked cute in his shirt, though he was surprised when his eyes were met with her bare legs up to her thighs, having foregone the shorts that he had set aside for her. She smiled bashfully as she settled into the couch next to him, “The shorts didn’t fit. This is okay, though, I think it covers enough.”

He shrugged, taking a slow drag from the joint, “You look cute in my clothes.”

She snuggled into his side, accepting the joint as he offered it to her and turned her gaze to the TV, “what’d you pick?”

He held the VHS sleeve up, “Dude, Where’s My Car?. It’s alright, I’ve seen it a few times.”

“Never heard of it,” she spoke as a puff of smoke escaped her lips, handing the joint back over to him, “but sounds okay to me. At this point I just keep watching Star Wars over and over. We have two of them, and they’re set like twenty years apart so I have no idea what’s actually going on.”

The movie was easily forgotten. At first, they had sat in silence while passing the joint back and forth before dazed conversations took over. She laughed at almost everything he said, snuggling closer and closer until he was entirely reclined against the armrest with her curled into his chest. Her chin rested against his pec as they spoke, giggling at one another as an easy silence took over, their eyes meeting as the mood in the room shifted. 

Her eyes flickered from his down to his round lips, watching in anticipation as he ran his tongue across his bottom lip nervously before she scooched herself forward until she could comfortably press her lips to his. It wasn’t rushed or heated in the beginning, instead falling into a slow, but slightly messy rhythm as her hands came up to take hold of his dark hair while his own slid across the expanse of her back, one settling on the curve of her spine while the other gripped the back of her thigh to hike it further up against his waist. 

She let out a small whine against his lips, pulling away for a moment to focus her attention to trailing her lips across his cheek, over his jaw, and down his neck. A low grumble rolled through his chest at this, her name falling from his lips with a quiet moan.

“We don’t have to–” his hands gripped her waist tighter as he struggled to keep his composure.

She returned to his lips, pressing one more long kiss to them before pulling back with a wicked grin splitting her face.

“Take me to bed, Jesse,” she whispered.

And who was he to deny her?

[pomefioredove]

Hello! Could I have a chocolate, #1, with sprinkles and whipped cream please? <3

mwahmwah rollo

order #1, chocolate with whipped cream, sprinkles

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ when it's over

summary: with a reader whose been traumatized by magic tropes: royalty au, hurt/comfort characters: rollo additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is not yuu

The royal party had been nothing but problems, problems, problems. Poor Rollo, the diligent Student Council President, the very soul without whom this entire event would cease to exist, had run himself ragged.

Of course, nothing went right.

First, the royal procession was late. Not by a few minutes, not even by an hour, but by the time that lunch had gone cold and the crowds with it. Rollo had simply never seen such disrespectful tardiness, and he had to suspend his personal welcoming of the Night Raven College students to attend to the royal party.

Then, the play that had been arranged in honor of the visiting sovereigns was interrupted, and then the festival was pushed up by an hour, and then it was almost evening and Rollo's headache had not gone.

He sniffled into his handkerchief. He wasn't crying, nor was he sick, but his nose was wrinkled so tightly it made his voice nasally and noxious. He, not an aide in his dutiful place, should have welcomed the Night Raven students. He had wanted to see what he was up against tonight.

Rollo stuffs the handkerchief into his pocket. No matter. There's still time.

The royal party, that of a distant place he had no interest in outside of the lecture hall and the library, would be kept entertained by the festivities. There was still much drinking to be done. Rollo could slip away for ten minutes to attend to the Night Raven students, and no one would notice.

He hadn't taken one step.

"Excuse me? Monsieur Flamme, was it?"

He stops at the meek epithet. Too polite to be a Night Raven College student.

"Yes, that's right. May I-" he hesitates as you come into the light. The youngest of the visiting family. "...Ah... It's you."

Adorned in the finest cloth of your countrymen, eyes sparkling. You had addressed him in the language of Fleur City, which tells Rollo that you're educated. Enough, at least.

"You should be enjoying the fireworks with your friends. Is something amiss?"

You hesitate. He really does not have time for this. The evening bell is set to ring in an hour.

"...I was hoping you might find me somewhere to sit. I feel unwell,"

Wonderful. Rollo smothers a sigh in his handkerchief, and then leads you into the school.

The soft gray light of early evening, cast through the arched windows and past the strenuous pillars, is naught but a reminder of how little daylight Rollo has to spare.

"...Unwell, you say," he repeats, prodding into the soft silence. Rollo knows that you must have had plenty a place to sit, and if you were truly "unwell", as you had put it, that one of your many aides or servants would attend to you. But you went to him. Why?

"...I am moderately versed in medicine. What are your symptoms?"

He lets you into the student council room. The heavy oaken door thuds shut.

"Oh..." you say. And nothing more. Rollo raises an eyebrow at your silence. Caught in your own lie?

He gives you his arm, as a good man ought to (if only he were a good man), and helps you into a seat.

"...Just a bit lightheaded,"

"Hm," Rollo hums. "Too much to drink?"

"Oh, no, never. Not with my... you know," you say. "It was only... a lot of noise. And light."

Rollo sympathizes with that. It was those Night Raven villains who had set off those fireworks, wasn't it?

"You're welcome to stay here for as long as you'd like. I apologize for the... er, commotion," he mumbles. "...It was not planned."

"Wasn't it?"

"No," he says, sternly. "I would never... ahem. The students of Noble Bell conduct themselves with more restraint.

...Especially around a dangerous thing like magic."

You almost smile. "You don't play with matches, then?"

"We don't stick our fingers in fire,"

He stands against the wall beside you, studying your posture and pose. Not so tense anymore, he notes.

"...I see," you say. "Well, that's a relief."

Is it, he wonders. "You didn't enjoy that disgus... that... display? Everyone else seemed to."

"I'm not really a fan of magic,"

It's not easy to surprise Rollo Flamme. He's a man of diligence, of devotion. He plans his days, weeks, months, years to perfection, never leaves an end loose, a thread dangling.

This surprises him.

His eyes widen.

"...I see. Is your family not..."

"Mages?" you finish. "I'm surrounded by them. But I'm... not, no."

He is suddenly not so worried about the Night Raven College students.

"...And you don't care for it? Magic?"

Your posture, your pointed toes and proud shoulders, shudders, like a candle flame in wind. Rollo hasn't seen that before, but he's felt it.

"...Not really. I've had some..." you begin.

"Experiences," he finishes, folding his hands. "I understand."

It's getting darker. The Bell, his Bell, will need him soon. But he can't leave you. His heart won't allow it.

His mind will.

"Stay in here, for the rest of the evening. I'll come for you when it's over," he does not specify what "it" means.

You nod, eyes wide, warm (or is that just the effect of the fire?) the color of flame dancing against your skin. Rollo hesitates. He sets a hand on your shoulder and presses his fingers into the soft flesh, as if to confirm that you're real, that you'll stay.

"I'll come for you," he repeats.

And with more determination than he had even that morning, Rollo heads for the bell tower.

[starcandybby]

8:15 a.m. - haechan x fem!reader

warnings: reader has she/her pronouns, haechan is in love, fluff , dreamies scold and annoy haechan, might be typos.

minors pls dni ♡

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The practice room doors burst open as Donghyuck swiftly walks into the space.

“Lee Donghyuck!” Renjun was the first to scold him, barely giving Donghyuck the time to set his stuff down.

“I’m late, I know I know.” Donghyuck had mentally prepared himself for the lecture he knew he’d get when he arrived at practice late…again.

“This is the third time you’ve been late in the last month, Hyuck.” This time, Mark’s voice addresses Donghyuck, uncharacteristically serious for the leader.

“I know, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Donghyuck sits up straight and playfully salutes his leader, hoping to ease some of the tension in the room.

“What made you late anyway?”

Donghyuck internally sighs at Jisung’s question; he was hoping that they could all just forget about his tardiness and get to practicing….which was supposed to start 15 minutes ago.

“I was just..you know…” Donghyuck was struggling to come up with an excuse that was both vague and believable to the members that know him so well.

But before he could even complete his sentence, Chenle cuts him off.

“You were with her, weren’t you?” Chenle shouts and points an accusatory finger in Donghyuck’s direction.

The mere mention of you brings a smile to his face. Donghyuck doesn’t say anything, but the tilt of his head downward, to avoid eye contact, and the smirk on his face, tells his members all they need to know.

Groans and murmurs of frustration can be heard around the practice room once the rest of Dream realizes the reason their beloved member was late.

“Man! I knew it!”

“Our Haechannie is in loveee!”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes, but his annoyed demeanor quickly dissolves as a bashful smile eventually makes a way on his face amidst the teasing.

“Yeah Yeah. Get it all out now.”

A few more teasing comments and Dream finally gets to practicing…only 20 minutes later than planned.

Hours and hours later, Donghyuck anxiously taps his foot as he listens to the choreographer wrap up the practice session. He’s sure the concluding points and improvements are important for him to know, but he can’t draw his attention away from the clock hanging above the mirrors in the practice room.

The sooner they finish up, the sooner he can get home to you-

“Alright, I think that’s all we’ve got for you today. We’ll meet back here tomorrow at the same-“

When the choreographer’s concluding words, Donghyuck jumps up and grabs his stuff, darting out of the practice room.

Mark jumps up to follow him. “Don’t be late tomorrow!” Mark calls after him, but it’s a lost cause, Donghyuck is already too far down the hall to hear his leader.

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Earlier that morning - 7:45 a.m.

“Please don’t go.” You nestled further into the crook between Donghyuck’s neck and shoulder. He chuckled and pulled you closer, if that was even possible. His legs tangled with yours, arms draped over your waist. Donghyuck doesn’t think it can get much better than this.

“You know I don’t want to baby.” Donghyuck can’t see your pout, but you know you’re sporting one as soon as he finished speaking. He strokes your back in an effort to comfort you, long fingers scaling your back rhythmically, almost lulling you back to sleep. Donghyuck knows you’re not really mad at him; you’ve long accepted his schedule as an idol. It doesn’t make it any easier for him to leave though.

“When do you have to leave again?” You murmur as you lift your head to look at your boyfriend. Heart eyes are practically popping out of Donghyuck’s head as he looks at you. Sleepiness still very evident on your face, but he loves it. He loves you.

“In a few minutes.” An absolute lie. He was supposed to leave about 10 minutes ago. But, he wasn’t ready to leave you, not yet.

“They’ll be mad if you’re late again.” You murmur again, leaning into Donghyuck’s hand that had come up to cup your face.

“They’ll be okay. They can miss me for the first few minutes of practice.” He reassures you with another lie. This will be the third time he’s late to practice within the month. He’s sure he’ll get reprimanded by both his leader and his captain, and he might even have to have a meet with their managers. In the moment though, Donghyuck doesn’t care about any of that. He’s feeling more like a ‘in the moment guy’ right now anyway.

It isn’t until a few minutes later, at 7:55, that Donghyuck finally rolls out of bed, much to your and his despair. He makes a stop in the bathroom to clean himself up a bit- to at least try to look presentable.

Donghyuck gives you one last kiss on the forehead- you both exchanging sleepy ‘i love yous’. He lingers longer than he should have (like he did all morning). It takes all his willpower to leave you- he wanted nothing more than to stay.

He sighs and heads out your front door. Despite consequences, Donghyuck thinks anything is worth spending more time with you.

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a/n: Thank you for reading!! I was inspired by nct 127’s walk dance practice, where hyuck comes in late and then RUNS out at the end hehehe also my haechan brain rot is SO bad rn. love that man.

comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3

[reidmarieprentiss]

Too Sweet

Summary: Y/N knows Spencer is too good for her.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: smut (18+), angst, light fluff

Warnings/Includes: porn with plot, additional warnings under the cut, cosplay, wearing dress, use of Y/N, alcohol consumption

Word count: 11.9k

a/n: idk man i really want him

main masterlist

part two part three

Additional warnings: breast & nipple play, fingering, oral (m&f), PinV protected, biting

The convention hall buzzed with excitement, filled with an array of fans dressed as their favorite characters from the iconic series, Doctor Who. The air was alive with the chatter of people discussing their favorite episodes, theories about the show's plot twists, and the inevitable debates about which Doctor was the best. Vendors lined the walls, offering everything from collectible sonic screwdrivers to handmade TARDIS keychains.

Spencer Reid and Penelope Garcia were two of these enthusiastic attendees. Spencer was dressed impeccably as his favorite Doctor, the Eleventh, complete with a tweed jacket, bow tie, and fez perched jauntily on his head. Penelope, meanwhile, dazzled as the vibrant Thirteenth Doctor, sporting a rainbow-striped shirt, long coat, and bright yellow suspenders. Her hair was styled to perfection, and she wore a replica of the Thirteenth Doctor’s sonic screwdriver clipped to her belt.

They had spent the day gleefully exploring the convention together, indulging in all the nerdy joys the event had to offer. Panels, merchandise, photo ops with actors—they were having a fantastic time. They even participated in a trivia contest, which Spencer naturally excelled in, earning them a special edition Doctor Who poster. Everything was going splendidly until they ran into Penelope's ex, Kevin Lynch, who had the audacity to show up with his new date, a tall brunette who seemed to be equally as nerdy as Penelope.

Penelope's face fell as she spotted Kevin, her previous enthusiasm dimming slightly. She forced a smile and waved at Kevin, who looked surprised but waved back, a bit awkwardly.

"Penelope!" Kevin said, trying to sound cheerful but failing miserably. "It's, uh, great to see you here."

"Yeah, you too, Kevin," Penelope replied, her voice wavering slightly as she glanced at his date. She couldn't help but feel a pang of embarrassment and an awkward tension that hung in the air.

The encounter was brief, but it left Penelope feeling deflated. After exchanging a few pleasantries, she quickly excused herself and turned to Spencer, whispering that she needed a moment alone. Spencer nodded understandingly, his eyes filled with empathy, and watched as Penelope hurried off, clearly upset.

Now alone amidst the bustling crowd, Spencer found himself wandering around the convention hall, a bit lost without Penelope by his side. Despite being surrounded by thousands of people who shared his interests, he felt an uncomfortable sense of solitude creeping in. He adjusted his bow tie nervously, his eyes scanning the room for a friendly face or familiar sight.

As he wandered, Spencer couldn't help but feel self-conscious, almost like a lost puppy in a sea of strangers. The convention was vast, and though he loved the atmosphere, it was a lot to take in alone. He fiddled with his fez, trying to focus on the displays and booths around him, but the sense of being out of place lingered.

It was then that he noticed you, standing a short distance away, dressed as the most enchanting character from Doctor Who—Madame de Pompadour, The Girl in the Fireplace.

Your costume was a stunning recreation of the elegant 18th-century dress worn by Reinette, complete with intricate lace details, flowing skirts, and an opulent corset that captured the character's timeless beauty. A perfectly styled wig with cascading curls crowned your head, adding an authentic touch to your ensemble. You wore a delicate mask in your hand, which you twirled absentmindedly as you observed the convention floor, your eyes occasionally flicking toward Spencer with an amused curiosity. But what struck Spencer most was your warm smile, a beacon of kindness amidst the chaos.

You had noticed Spencer earlier, observing him with a gentle curiosity as he meandered through the crowd. Something about his endearing awkwardness and the way he carried himself drew your attention, and you found yourself walking over to him, compelled by a mix of admiration and empathy.

With a kind and playful smile, you approached him and said, "Hey, you look lost. Do you need help finding your parents?"

Spencer's eyes widened in surprise at your teasing comment, and he let out a surprised snort, momentarily caught off guard. He quickly recovered from his initial embarrassment and noticed the twinkle of amusement in your eyes.

"Uh, no, no thank you," he replied with a sheepish grin. "I was given permission to look around by myself."

Your laughter was infectious, and Spencer felt the tightness in his chest ease. It was as if your presence alone had a calming effect, grounding him in the moment and reminding him that he wasn't truly alone. Your genuine kindness and humor were like a breath of fresh air.

"I'm glad to hear it," you said, still smiling as you playfully curtsied. "I'm Y/N, by the way. A fellow time traveler, it seems."

Spencer hesitated for a moment before bowing slightly at the waist, feeling a little more confident now. "Spencer Reid," he replied, introducing himself. "And yes, it seems we both have a knack for getting lost in time."

Your shared laugh seemed to lighten the atmosphere, and Spencer couldn't help but feel grateful for your unexpected companionship. It was a simple moment, yet it carried a weight of significance—an unexpected connection made in the most delightful of circumstances.

As the vibrant crowd continued to flow around you, your conversation with Spencer felt like a moment suspended in time, a quiet bubble amidst the lively chaos of the convention. The laughter, chatter, and occasional shout of delight from fellow fans echoed through the hall, but you found yourself entirely focused on the man standing before you.

"So, Spencer," you began, looking around at the lively crowd, "what's been your favorite part of the convention so far?"

“Well, I won the trivia contest!” Spencer replied with enthusiasm, his eyes lighting up with pride. “I love seeing everyone’s costumes too, the creativity and thought they put into them is inspiring. And the food court! Did you see they have—why are you looking at me like that? Am I rambling? Oh, I am, hah, sorry.”

You chuckled softly, finding his rambling endearing. “Don’t stop on my account; I happen to think it’s very cute.”

Spencer blinked, momentarily caught off guard by your compliment. “You… you do?”

“Indeed, Doctor,” you replied with a playful glint in your eye.

“How did you know I’m a doctor?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Um…” you pointed at his costume, a classic Doctor Who ensemble that perfectly captured the essence of the Eleventh Doctor. 

“Oh! Right, you meant Doctor Who Doctor,” he realized, a sheepish smile spreading across his face.

“Yes, but are you really a doctor?” you inquired, intrigued by the idea of him being both a fictional and real-life doctor.

Spencer nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of humility and pride. “I have three PhDs.”

“Oh wow, that’s hot,” you said, your voice teasing yet sincere, enjoying the way his cheeks turned a faint shade of pink.

“What?” he squeaked, clearly flustered by your unexpected compliment.

“Tell me, Spencer… do you have plans after the convention?” you asked, leaning in slightly, your interest in him evident.

“Um, no, nope. No, I do not. Totally free,” Spencer stammered, trying to keep his composure but feeling his heart race at the prospect of spending more time with you.

“Good to know,” you replied with a warm smile. “Would you like to get a drink with me?”

“I would love to,” he answered, his voice brimming with exhilaration.

“Wonderful,” you said, pleased with his response.

The two of you exchanged numbers, a small gesture that felt monumental, sealing the promise of further connection beyond the convention's vibrant confines. As you parted ways, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement at the thought of seeing him again.

As he watched you disappear into the colorful sea of costumes, you turned back to Spencer, your heart still racing with the promise of more time together. “I’ll see you later, Spencer,” you said, offering him one last lingering smile before slipping away into the crowd.

Spencer stood there for a moment, his mind whirling with possibilities and the thrill of new connections. As he adjusted his fez and prepared to rejoin Penelope, he smiled to himself, the Doctor Who theme echoing in the distance as he headed back into the lively fray.

—

Later that night, you and Spencer agreed to meet up at a cozy little bar nestled in a bustling neighborhood near your apartment. The day had been a whirlwind of excitement and adventure at the Doctor Who convention, but now, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the city lights twinkled, a new kind of eagerness filled the air.

You arrived at the bar first, filled with anticipation and nervousness. Gone was the elegant 18th-century gown you wore at the convention; you now wore a low-cut, tight shirt that hugged your curves and showed off a bit more cleavage than before. It was a bold choice, one that made you feel confident and sexy, and you hoped Spencer would appreciate it.

As you waited for Spencer to arrive, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of fever at seeing him again. Something about his awkward charm and genuine kindness had struck a chord with you, and you were eager to see where the evening might lead.

When Spencer walked in, your breath caught at the sight of him. Gone was the Eleventh Doctor costume, replaced by a classic sweater vest ensemble that was quintessentially Spencer Reid. He wore a crisp button-down shirt under the vest, paired with slacks that somehow made him look both dorky and endearingly handsome. You found it incredibly attractive, and a smile tugged at your lips as he approached.

“Hey,” he said, a bit shyly, his eyes darting around the bar before settling on you. When he noticed your outfit, he froze for a moment, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of your low-cut shirt. “Wow, you look... amazing.”

“Thank you,” you replied, feeling a flush of warmth spread across your cheeks. “You clean up pretty well yourself, Doctor.”

Spencer chuckled, running a hand through his hair in a self-conscious gesture. “I, uh, didn’t know what to wear, but I’m glad it works.”

“Oh, it definitely works,” you assured him, your gaze lingering on his sweater vest. “I have a thing for sweater vests.”

He laughed, his cheeks tinged with pink. “Good to know. I have plenty of them.”

You motioned for him to join you at the bar, where you ordered drinks and settled into a comfortable conversation. The atmosphere was relaxed, with soft music playing in the background and the hum of conversations surrounding you.

“So, how did you get into Doctor Who?” Spencer asked, genuinely curious as he took a sip of his drink.

“I’ve always been a fan of science fiction,” you replied, leaning closer to ensure he could hear you over the chatter. “The idea of time travel, the adventures, and the characters just drew me in. Plus, the show has this amazing ability to make you think about life in new ways.”

Spencer nodded, clearly pleased with your answer. “I completely agree. The show is more than just entertainment; it’s a way to explore complex ideas and emotions. I think that’s why it resonates with so many people.”

“Exactly!” you said enthusiastically, enjoying the ease of conversation between you. “And what about you? What drew you to the series?”

Spencer shrugged, his eyes twinkling with the joy of discussing something he loved. “It started as a way to escape, I guess. Growing up, I didn’t have a lot of friends, but Doctor Who was like a companion, in a way. It taught me a lot about empathy and bravery.”

You smiled, touched by his honesty. “That’s really great, Spencer.”

“Thanks,” he said, looking a bit bashful under your gaze. “I’m glad I met someone who appreciates the show as much as I do.”

The conversation flowed effortlessly, a dance of words that brought you closer with each exchange. You found yourself laughing easily, the tension of earlier dissipating as you both shared stories and jokes, losing track of time in the warm ambiance of the bar.

As the night wore on, you noticed Spencer stealing glances at your shirt, his eyes flickering to your cleavage before quickly averting his gaze, trying to be polite. You couldn’t help but find his flustered reactions adorable, and you decided to tease him a little.

“Is there something interesting over here?” you asked, gesturing to your chest with a playful grin.

Spencer’s face turned a deep shade of red, and he stammered, “Uh, no, I mean, yes, but—oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”

You laughed softly, reaching out to touch his hand reassuringly. “Relax, Spencer. I don’t mind. It’s kind of flattering, actually.”

He exhaled, clearly relieved by your response. “Well, in that case, yes, it’s very distracting,” he admitted, a shy smile playing on his lips.

“Good to know I still have it,” you teased, leaning back in your chair with a satisfied expression.

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “You definitely do.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, filled with the promise of more to come. As the night deepened, the conversation shifted from playful banter to something more intimate, the chemistry between you undeniable.

“So, Spencer,” you said, your voice dropping to a more sultry tone. “What does the rest of your night look like? Are you all booked up?”

“Um, no, not really,” he replied, his heart racing as he caught the glint in your eye. “Why do you ask?”

“Well,” you said, leaning closer, “I was wondering if you’d like to come back to my place. We could continue our conversation somewhere a bit more private.”

Spencer’s eyes widened, and he swallowed hard, his mind spinning with possibilities. “I would love that,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Great,” you replied with a smile, feeling a thrill of anticipation as you both stood up, ready to leave the bar behind for the promise of what awaited you.

The walk back to your apartment was filled with a charged silence, the kind that spoke volumes without needing words. You felt Spencer’s presence beside you, a comforting warmth that made your heart race with excitement.

As you reached your apartment building, you turned to him, your eyes meeting in a shared understanding. “This is me,” you said, gesturing to the entrance.

“Nice place,” Spencer commented, trying to keep his cool despite the nerves bubbling inside him.

You unlocked the door and led him inside, your heart pounding with each step. The atmosphere was electric, one that promised something incredible.

Once inside, you turned to face Spencer, a playful smile on your lips. “Make yourself at home,” you said, gesturing to the cozy living room. “Can I get you anything?”

“Just some water would be great,” he replied, trying to steady his racing heart.

You nodded and disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later with two glasses of water. As you handed one to Spencer, your fingers brushed against his, sending a jolt of electricity through you both.

“Thank you,” Spencer said, his voice warm and sincere.

“You’re welcome,” you replied, sitting down beside him on the couch. The proximity was intoxicating, and you could feel the tension building with each passing second.

“I have to say, I’m really glad we met today.” Spencer said, his voice slightly shaky. 

“Me too,” you agreed, your gaze locked on his.

The room seemed to shrink around you, the world fading away until it was just the two of you, enveloped in a bubble of connection and desire.

As you leaned in closer, your lips mere inches from his, Spencer’s breath hitched in suspense. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the magnetic pull drawing you together.

“Spencer,” you whispered, your voice a soft caress.

“Yes?” he replied, his eyes searching yours, filled with longing.

“Would you like to stay the night?” you asked, your words laced with an invitation that left little room for doubt.

Spencer swallowed, his heart racing as he processed your offer. “I’d love to,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

With that, you closed the distance between you, capturing his lips in a gentle yet passionate kiss. It was a kiss filled with promise and possibility, a moment that transcended the ordinary and ventured into the extraordinary.

Spencer kissed you back with a low whimper as he began to ravish you. His lips were soft and urgent against yours, moving with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine. You could feel the strain in his body as he pressed against you, his hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you closer. The heat between you was palpable, an electric current that seemed to spark and crackle in the air around you.

You responded eagerly, threading your fingers through his hair, feeling the silky strands slip between your fingers as you deepened the kiss. The taste of him was intoxicating, a mix of the lingering sweetness of the drinks you'd shared earlier and something distinctly Spencer that made you crave more.

Spencer's hands moved with a purpose, exploring the curves of your body with a gentle yet insistent touch that left you breathless. His fingertips traced the outline of your spine, sending delightful tingles through your skin as they traveled lower, coming to rest on the small of your back. You arched into his touch, pressing your body more firmly against his, savoring the feel of him against you.

With a quiet moan, Spencer shifted, guiding you backward until you were lying beneath him on the couch. He broke the kiss for a moment, his breath warm and ragged against your lips as he gazed down at you with a smoldering intensity. The look in his eyes sent a thrill through you, a promise of the pleasures to come.

Spencer leaned down, capturing your lips once more as his hands continued their exploration. His touch was both tender and demanding, a perfect balance that left you yearning for more. You felt his fingers trail over your exposed skin, slipping beneath the fabric of your low-cut shirt, and you shivered in anticipation as he began to explore further.

The sensation of his hands against your bare skin was electrifying, each touch sending ripples of pleasure through your body. You could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, an insistent ache that begged for more as Spencer's touch became more insistent. His hands roamed over your body with a confidence that contradicted the initial shyness you had seen in him earlier.

Your shirt slipped further up your torso, and Spencer's lips left yours to follow the path his hands had traced moments before. His mouth moved with a deliberate slowness, leaving a trail of heated kisses along your jawline, down the column of your neck, and across your collarbone. Each kiss was a promise, a vow of what was to come, and you found yourself lost in the sensations he was creating.

As Spencer's mouth traveled lower, you let out a soft sigh of pleasure, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his sweater vest. The texture of the material beneath your fingertips was a comforting contrast to the fiery sensations his lips and hands were invoking, grounding you even as you felt yourself soaring.

Spencer's lips moved over the swell of your breasts, his touch reverent yet possessive, as if he were memorizing every inch of your skin with his mouth. You felt a thrill at the thought of being the focus of his attention. 

Spencer’s lips ghosted over your skin, each kiss sending waves of heat coursing through your body. As he reached the edge of your shirt, he paused, his fingers gently teasing the hem as he looked up at you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Are you planning on keeping this on all night?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

You chuckled softly, a playful smile dancing on your lips. “Well, Doctor, I thought I’d give you something to unwrap. Consider it a mystery.”

Spencer grinned, his fingers deftly pulling your shirt higher until it slipped over your head, leaving you exposed beneath him. His gaze raked over your bare skin, appreciation evident in his eyes. “Mystery solved,” he whispered, his tone filled with a mixture of desire and admiration.

You felt a rush of heat at his words, your skin tingling. “You’re a fast learner,” you replied, your voice sultry as you reached up to pull him back down to you. “But let’s see if you can handle what’s next.”

His eyes darkened with intensity at your challenge, and he captured your lips in another heated kiss, his hands exploring your newly exposed skin with renewed vigor. The sensations were dizzying, each touch and caress a testament to his growing confidence and desire.

Spencer’s hands traveled down your sides, tracing the curves of your waist and hips before slipping beneath the waistband of your pants. You let out a quiet moan, arching into his touch as he began to work them down, his fingers deft and sure.

“Getting a bit bold, aren’t we?” you teased, nipping at his lower lip as he freed you from the confines of your clothing.

“Just trying to keep up with you,” he retorted, his voice tinged with amusement as he leaned back to admire his handiwork.

You reached for the hem of his sweater vest, tugging it upwards with a playful smirk. “I think it’s time we even the playing field, don’t you?”

He chuckled, raising his arms to help you remove the vest, followed by his button-down shirt. You couldn’t help but appreciate the lean muscles beneath his clothing, the way his skin seemed to glow in the dim light of the room.

“Not bad, Doctor,” you quipped, your fingers tracing the lines of his chest appreciatively. “Maybe I should have gone to med school.”

Spencer let out a low laugh, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I doubt they teach this in med school.”

“Oh, I’m sure there’s a course or two,” you replied, your fingers trailing lower, teasing the waistband of his pants.

He inhaled sharply, his body responding to your touch in a way that made you both feel like you were on fire. “I think we’re about to graduate to something more advanced,” he murmured, his voice a mix of fieriness and teasing.

You grinned, pulling him back down to you, your lips capturing his in a passionate kiss that promised more than words ever could. The heat between you was intense, a consuming fire that left you both breathless and wanting more.

Spencer’s hands continued their exploration, mapping every inch of your skin with a reverence that made your heart race. You could feel the tension building, a delicious feeling that promised to leave you both satisfied yet craving even more.

As you shifted beneath him, your body pressed against his in a way that made your intentions clear, you whispered, “What do you say we take this somewhere more comfortable?”

He nodded, his eyes filled with a hunger that matched your own. “Lead the way,” he replied, his voice husky with desire.

With that, you guided him toward your bedroom, the promise of what was to come hanging in the air like an electric charge. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you and the enticing possibilities that lay ahead.

Once inside your bedroom, the atmosphere shifted, the intimacy of the space amplifying the pull between you. The dim lighting cast shadows across the room, creating an intimate bubble that felt like it was just for you and Spencer.

You turned to face him, a teasing smile playing on your lips as you slowly backed toward the bed. “I hope you’re ready for this, Doctor.”

He followed, his movements confident and sure as he approached, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve been ready since the moment I saw you,” he replied, his voice low and filled with want.

As you sank onto the bed, Spencer joined you, his body warm and inviting against yours. The tension between you was palpable, a magnetic pull that drew you closer with each passing second.

You reached for him, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw before pulling him in for another searing kiss. His lips were soft and insistent against yours, his touch possessive as he pressed you back against the sheets. The mattress dipped under your combined weight, and you felt the cool, crisp fabric of the sheets beneath your skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from Spencer’s body.

Spencer’s breath mingled with yours, warm and intoxicating with desire. His hands traveled with a deliberate slowness, exploring the curves and contours of your body as though committing every inch to memory. You felt his fingers skim over the bare skin of your arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. The sensation was electric, sending delightful tingles coursing through your veins.

As he deepened the kiss, a low groan rumbled in his throat, vibrating through your body and sending a shiver of excitement down your spine. Your hands found their way to his back, feeling the taut muscles beneath his skin as you pulled him closer, craving the warmth and weight of him against you.

His lips moved with a languid, teasing rhythm, exploring the delicate skin of your neck with gentle, open-mouthed kisses that sent your heart racing. You tilted your head back, granting him better access as a soft sigh escaped your lips, filling the room with a quiet sound of pleasure.

Spencer’s kisses trailed lower, his breath hot against your skin as he made his way down your collarbone. The sensation was intoxicating, a delicious mix of tenderness and urgency that left you breathless. You felt his hands slide up your sides, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin beneath your ribcage before coming to rest on your waist.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his voice rough with desire.

You couldn’t help but smile, your fingers threading through his hair as you arched into his touch. “Get to the point, Doctor.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and enticing, as he shifted his weight to hover above you, his eyes dark with longing. The air between you crackled with intensity, a potent mix of suspense and need that seemed to draw you even closer together.

Your breathing grew ragged, each inhale a shuddering gasp as you surrendered to the pleasure building inside you. Spencer’s touch was like a drug, addictive and all-consuming, leaving you dizzy with longing.

He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting yours, a silent question lingering between you. You nodded, giving him the permission he sought, and he smiled—a small, intimate curve of his lips that made your heart skip a beat.

Spencer hands deftly working to remove the last barriers between you. The sensation of the cool air against your skin was a delicious contrast to the heat radiating from his touch, sending shivers of need cascading through your body.

The room was filled with a symphony of soft sounds: the rustle of fabric as Spencer undressed you, the quiet hum of the city outside, and the rapid, excited beat of your own heart. The smell of your mingled scents—his cologne, a hint of your perfume, and the unmistakable musk of arousal—filled the air, creating an intoxicating atmosphere that heightened every sensation.

As Spencer’s hands continued their journey, his lips followed, pressing soft, heated kisses to every inch of exposed skin. The feel of his mouth against your body was electric, each kiss a spark that ignited a fire deep within you. You could hear the quiet, appreciative noises he made as he explored, a low hum of approval that vibrated through you, making your skin tingle with fever.

His mouth found the sensitive spot at the base of your throat, and he lingered there, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin and his teeth scraping behind. The sensation was exquisite, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You moaned softly, your fingers threading through his hair, holding him close as he continued his ministrations.

His mouth continued its journey, trailing kisses down the length of your torso, his breath hot and humid against your skin. Each touch of his lips was a promise, a hint of the pleasures yet to come. You could feel the gentle scrape of his stubble against your skin, a delightful roughness that added to the sensory overload.

Spencer’s hands found their way to your thighs, his fingers curling around the soft flesh as he gently parted them, creating space for himself between your legs. The anticipation was almost unbearable, a sweet ache that thrummed through your veins as you waited for his next move.

He paused for a moment, his breath warm and heavy against your inner thigh as he looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire. The look in his eyes sent a jolt of electricity through your body, a silent communication of his intentions that left you breathless.

When he finally moved, it was with a purpose and a tenderness that took your breath away. His mouth found its mark, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to the most intimate part of you. The sensation was overwhelming, a rush of pleasure that left you gasping and trembling beneath him.

Spencer's tongue traced a path of fire, the wet heat of his mouth a stark contrast to the cool air around you. The feeling of his tongue against you was indescribable, a perfect blend of softness and pressure that had you writhing with need. You could hear the wet, rhythmic sounds of his movements, a deliciously sinful symphony that filled the room and drove you wild with desire.

The taste of you seemed to spur him on, his movements growing more insistent, more confident as he explored every inch of you. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you steady as he lavished attention on you, each stroke of his tongue sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body.

You could feel the tension building, a tight coil of desire that wound tighter and tighter with each passing second. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your hands clutching at the sheets as you tried to hold on, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations Spencer was creating.

And then, with a final, masterful stroke of his tongue, the coil snapped, sending you spiraling into a blinding wave of ecstasy. Your body arched off the bed, a cry of pure pleasure escaping your lips as you surrendered to the intense release. Every nerve ending seemed to ignite, the pleasure radiating out from your core in waves that left you trembling and gasping for breath.

Spencer didn't stop, his movements gentling but never ceasing as he guided you through the aftershocks, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were spent and boneless beneath him. The room was filled with the sound of your ragged breaths, the quiet hum of the city outside, and the beating of your heart.

As the world slowly came back into focus, you felt Spencer's weight shift, his body sliding up to join you on the bed. He gathered you into his arms, his touch gentle and soothing as he held you close. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart against your cheek, the warmth of his skin a comforting presence that grounded you.

You turned your head to meet his gaze, a satisfied smile playing on your lips. "I may have misread you…" you murmured, your voice still breathless from the intensity of the experience.

Spencer looked at you, curiosity flickering in his eyes as he tried to read your expression. "How so?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent another wave of heat through you.

“I thought you were some nerdy dork who wouldn’t know what to do,” you confessed with a teasing grin, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. “You proved me so wrong.”

Spencer chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm like honey, his eyes filled with a mix of pride and affection. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he replied, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. The touch was tender and sweet, a stark contrast to the intense passion you'd just shared.

As the warmth of his kiss lingered on your skin, a flicker of awareness crept into your mind, reminding you of the vulnerability of your current position. Spencer was undeniably pretty, fun, and, as you had just discovered, incredibly talented with his mouth. But letting him get too close, emotionally, was a different matter—a potential disaster waiting to happen.

You felt a pang of uncertainty, a reminder that you'd let yourself get carried away in the heat of everything today. The thought of letting him see more of you, of exposing the parts of yourself you kept hidden, was both thrilling and terrifying.

Gently, you scooted away, creating a small space between you on the bed. Spencer watched you with a slight frown, his brow furrowing in concern as he noticed the shift in your demeanor.

“Hey,” he said softly, reaching out to touch your arm. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’m good. Just… taking a breather.”

He nodded, understanding but still curious. The moment hung between you, a delicate balance of intimacy and distance that you both navigated carefully.

Wanting to redirect the focus and return the favor, you shifted onto your knees, your movements deliberate and confident. Spencer’s eyes widened slightly as he watched you, questioning flickering in his gaze.

You leaned forward, letting your hands glide over the planes of his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. The sensation was intoxicating, each touch sending a spark of desire through your body as you explored the contours of his torso.

“Now, Doctor,” you said, your voice low and teasing, “I think it’s my turn to show you what I can do.”

Spencer’s breath hitched, his eyes darkening with desire as he watched you with rapt attention. “I’m not going to stop you,” he replied, a playful edge to his voice as he leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows to give you full access.

You grinned, pleased by his response as you moved lower, your hands trailing down the length of his body. The texture of his skin was smooth and warm under your touch, each muscle firm and defined as you explored every inch with a deliberate slowness that made his breath catch.

The room was filled with the quiet rustle of sheets, the soft sounds of your movements as you shifted to straddle his legs, your body settling comfortably between his thighs. The anticipation in the air was palpable, a charged energy that seemed to crackle with each passing second.

You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his stomach, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath your lips. The sensation was exhilarating, a rush of power and intimacy that left you wanting more.

Spencer let out a quiet groan, his head falling back against the pillows as he surrendered to the sensations you were creating. The sound sent a thrill through you, a confirmation of the effect you had on him, and it spurred you on, encouraging you to continue your exploration.

You let your hands wander lower, tracing the line of his waistband before slipping beneath the fabric, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your fingers. Spencer’s breath hitched again, a soft, needy sound that made your heart race.

“You okay?” you asked, your voice a teasing whisper as you glanced up at him, enjoying the way his eyes were half-lidded with desire, his lips parted in want.

Spencer nodded, his voice a breathless murmur. “Mhm.”

You smiled, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of him so open and vulnerable beneath you. It was a heady feeling, one that made you want to give him everything you had, to explore every inch of him and discover all the ways you could make him come undone.

With a gentle touch, you eased his pants lower, revealing more of the skin you so desperately wanted to explore. The cool air kissed his skin, sending a shiver through him as you continued your ministrations, your hands and lips moving with a purposeful intent that left him gasping.

The texture of his skin under your fingers was smooth and warm, a contrast to the slightly rough fabric of his pants as they slid down his legs. You could feel the faint, steady beat of his pulse beneath your fingertips. The cool air seemed to heighten every sensation, sharpening the feeling of your touch against his bare skin.

As you explored lower, you could hear the soft, almost involuntary sounds Spencer made in response to your touch—a quiet gasp, a low moan, the sharp intake of breath when you grazed a particularly sensitive spot. Each sound proving the effect you were having on him, encouraging you to continue your exploration with renewed confidence.

You leaned in, your lips brushing over the expanse of skin just above his waistband, savoring the slightly salty taste of him. The feel of your mouth against his skin drew another low groan from Spencer, a needy sound that reverberated through your body and filled the room.

The slight roughness of his sparse hair beneath your lips was a contrast to the smooth skin of his abdomen, and you reveled in the differences, your fingers dancing over every inch as you memorized the planes and angles of his body. The heat radiating from him was intoxicating, drawing you closer, urging you to explore further.

With every touch and kiss, you could feel the tension coiling tighter within him, a palpable energy that seemed to thrumming in the air around you. His muscles tensed under your hands, responding to your every movement with a sensitivity that only served to heighten your own arousal.

His hips shifted slightly, an involuntary movement that brought him closer to you, seeking more of the sensations you were creating. The friction of your touch against him was a delicious torment, each caress, each brush of your lips a promise of the release he so desperately craved.

You continued down, your mouth trailing lower with a deliberate slowness that was as much for your pleasure as it was for his. The taste of his skin lingered on your lips, a reminder of the connection you shared, the chemistry that burned brightly between you.

Spencer’s hands found their way to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he guided you closer to his bulge that you had been neglecting, his touch both gentle and insistent. The slight tug at your scalp sent a shiver through you, a thrill of eagerness that urged you to continue your exploration with even more fervor.

Your lips traveled lower, past where he wanted you, tracing a path along the sensitive skin of his inner thigh with your lips and tongue, where you could feel the taut muscle beneath. The sensation of his skin against your lips, the warmth of his body, the subtle tremor that ran through him as you pressed a lingering kiss to his hip—all of it combined to create a heady mix of sensations that left you breathless.

The soft rustle of the sheets beneath you was the only sound in the room aside from the quiet, rhythmic hum of Spencer’s breathing and the occasional low moan that slipped past his lips. You could feel the way his body responded to your touch with an eagerness that mirrored your own. It was a dance of give and take, a perfect harmony of movements and sensations that left you both on the edge of control.

Spencer’s hands tightened in your hair, a gentle reminder of his presence, his need, and you responded by drawing him deeper into the sensations, your touch sure and steady as you worked to bring him closer to the edge. 

Finally, putting the poor man out of his misery, you hooked your fingers in his waistband and pulled his briefs down. Exposing him to the cool air, causing him to shiver. Then, because you’re not a monster, you licked a slow stripe up the side of his red, hard cock, causing a very loud groan to fall from between Spencer's lips.

The moment stretched out, filled with a tension that was both electric and tangible. The room was filled with the soft sounds of your shared breaths, a quiet rhythm that underscored the intense moment.

Your fingers brushed against his skin, tracing a delicate path along the line of his hip bone. You could feel the subtle tremor that ran through him. The warmth of his skin was intoxicating, drawing you closer, urging you to continue your exploration with a sense of urgency that bordered on desperate.

Spencer’s body was a study in contrasts—the hard lines of muscle beneath the softness of skin, the way he shivered under your touch even as he leaned into it, seeking more of the sensations you were creating. 

The cool air caressed his exposed skin, a sharp contrast to the warmth of your touch. You watched as goosebumps erupted along his flesh, a physical manifestation of his heightened arousal. The sight sent a thrill of satisfaction through you, a reminder of the power you held in this moment.

You leaned in, your breath warm against his cock as you placed a soft, lingering kiss along the tip. The taste of him was addictive, a heady mix of salt and musk that left you wanting more. The feeling of his skin beneath your lips was electric, sending shivers of excitement through your body.

Spencer let out a quiet groan, a low, primal sound that reverberated through the room and sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. His hands found their way, deeper somehow, in your hair, his grip firm and steady as he urged you closer, his need evident in the way he moved you.

His cock twitched in response to your touch, the sensation was dizzying, a heady mix of power and vulnerability that left you breathless. You allowed your fingers to explore further, tracing a slow, deliberate path along the length of his shaft. The texture was smooth and warm, a perfect contrast to the cool air that surrounded you. You could feel the faint tremor in his muscles, a testament to his struggle to maintain control in the face of such intense sensation.

“Please, please do something,” Spencer nearly whined, his voice tinged with desperation as he watched you with wide eyes, his body trembling with need.

As you finally leaned in, allowing your mouth to join the dance of sensation and touch, you heard Spencer’s breath hitch in his throat, a quiet sound of desire that filled the room. The taste of him on your tongue was intoxicating, a rich, heady mix of salt and musk that left you craving more.

The moment your lips made contact, Spencer released a shuddering exhale, his body responding to the heat of your mouth with a visceral intensity that took your breath away. His hips shifted involuntarily, each movement sending ripples of sensation through your body as well.

The sound of your mouth against his skin was almost hypnotic, a rhythmic whisper that echoed through the room, mingling with Spencer's soft moans and the quiet rustle of the sheets beneath him. You felt the gentle rise and fall of his abdomen as he tried to steady his breathing, the quiet hitch in his breath every time you shifted, adjusted your grip, or took him deeper.

His taste lingered on your tongue as you bobbed your head along his shaft. The feeling of his smooth, taught skin between your lips only caused the mess between your thighs to grow. You were soaking wet at the sight of the man who so confidently took you apart, writhing at the feeling of your mouth on him. 

Spencer's hands found their way to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he tried to hold onto the last ounce of his control. His touch was gentle but insistent, a silent plea for you to continue, to explore every inch of him until he was lost in the overwhelming pleasure that you were so skillfully creating.

As you continued your ministrations, you couldn't help but revel in the power you held over him, the way you could make his body respond to your every touch, your every movement. It was intoxicating, the thrill of being the one to unravel him, to bring him to the edge and watch as he teetered there, a breathless, trembling mess beneath you.

The quiet, involuntary sounds that slipped past his lips were music to your ears, a symphony of pleasure and need that urged you on, pushing you to explore further, to discover every hidden reaction, every secret spot that made him gasp and moan.

Spencer's breathing grew more ragged, his chest heaving with each breath as you brought him closer and closer to the edge. You could feel the tension coiling tighter within him, a living thing that pulsed and throbbed in your mouth, begging for release.

With each pass of your mouth, each flick of your tongue, you felt him draw nearer to the brink, the pleasure building to a fever pitch that left you both trembling with need. You pulled up to his tip, sucking harshly and greedily taking down the precum you were rewarded. 

“Fuck, fuck, Y/N. You have to pull off, I’m gonna—”

Finally, as you felt him begin to unravel beneath you, his grip on your hair tightening, you knew he was on the verge of release. The realization sent a thrill of satisfaction through you, a sense of accomplishment at having brought him to this point, this state of utter abandon.

But, you pulled off, just as he asked.

His eyes fluttered open, glazed with desire, and a mixture of relief and frustration washed over his features. The air between you was charged with electricity, thick as you gazed up at him, watching the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he tried to catch his breath.

“Thank you,” he breathed, his voice a low, rough whisper filled with gratitude and a hint of desperation. His hands remained in your hair, holding you there as if afraid you might disappear, the heat of his skin still pulsing beneath your touch.

You sat back on your heels, his hands falling, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you surveyed the man before you. Spencer lay sprawled across the bed, a beautiful mess of tousled hair, flushed skin, and a very hard cock leaning on his tummy.

“Didn’t want to spoil the fun too soon?” you teased, your voice sultry and full of promise.

Spencer let out a breathless laugh, his eyes sparkling with amusement and unabashed desire. “I didn’t expect you to be so... good at this,” he admitted, his voice still tinged with awe as he watched you with a newfound appreciation.

“Surprised?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you reached out to trail your fingers lazily along his thigh, feeling the residual tremor of his muscles beneath your touch.

“Pleasantly,” he replied, his voice rich with honesty as he met your gaze, a slow smile spreading across his lips.

“Well, the night’s not over yet,” you said, your tone full of suggestion as you shifted your position, moving with a deliberate slowness that kept Spencer’s gaze locked onto you. The dim lighting cast a warm, intimate glow over your skin, highlighting every curve and angle as you made your intentions clear.

Spencer watched you, his eyes darkening as he realized what you were doing. You were presenting yourself to him, offering yourself. The realization sent a fresh wave of heat through his already overwrought senses.

Your movements were slow and deliberate, a sensual dance that had Spencer transfixed, his breath catching in his throat as he watched you. You turned slightly, your back arching gracefully, presenting your body to him in a way that left no doubt about what you wanted. The smoothness of your skin and the glistening of your core caught the light, every curve accentuated by the shadows, and Spencer couldn't help but let his gaze travel over you, taking in every detail, every nuance.

“You like what you see, Doctor?” you teased with a shake of your hips, your voice a sultry purr that sent a shiver down Spencer’s spine. 

His response was a low, almost guttural sound that spoke volumes, a wordless expression of the desire that burned so brightly within him. He shifted slightly, his body tense as his hands reached out as if drawn to you by an invisible force.

“I like it very much,” he murmured, his voice a husky blend of awe and hunger as he drank in the sight of you. The way you held yourself, the confidence in your gaze, the promise of what was to come—it was all intoxicating, drawing him in and leaving him utterly captivated.

Spencer moved closer, the soft rustle of the sheets beneath him a quiet accompaniment to the sounds and sensations of desire that filled the room. Your skin was warm under Spencer’s touch as his hands found their way to your hips, his fingers trailing lightly over your skin, exploring every inch with a deliberate slowness that left you both breathless.

The feeling of his hands on you was electric, a perfect blend of tenderness and urgency that made your heart race and your senses sing. Every touch, every caress, sent shivers of pleasure racing through your body, leaving you aching for more, your skin hypersensitive to every nuance of his touch.

Spencer’s hands traveled with a gentle insistence, mapping the contours of your body with a touch that was both reverent and possessive. You could feel the subtle tremor in his fingers, the heat of his palms as they pressed against your ass.

His breath was warm against your ear, his voice a low murmur as he whispered, “You’re so sexy.” The words sent a thrill through you, a spark that ignited a fire in your belly and left you yearning for more of his touch, more of the sensations that seemed to flood your senses with every passing moment.

You turned your head slightly, your lips finding his in a kiss that was equal parts tenderness and demand. The taste of him was intoxicating, a heady mix of warmth and spice that made your heart race and your senses reel.

Spencer pulled away, and you felt the bed shift as he repositioned himself behind you. The room was filled with a quiet hum of anticipation, the air thick with the charged tension between you. You could feel his gaze on you, a tangible heat that seemed to sear into your skin.

“You’re sure?” he asked, his voice a low, rumbling purr that sent a shiver down your spine. There was an earnestness in his question, a genuine desire to ensure that you were comfortable and ready.

“Positive, Doctor,” you replied, the words laced with playful confidence as you glanced over your shoulder to meet his gaze. The term of endearment had become a safeguard to you, not wanting to get too used to saying his name.

Spencer’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm and relief, a small, appreciative smile tugging at his lips. “Do you have a condom?” he asked, his tone laced with a hint of embarrassment as he admitted his unpreparedness.

“You don’t?” you teased, raising an eyebrow in mock disbelief. It was a playful jab, meant to lighten the mood and add a touch of humor to the charged atmosphere.

“I didn’t expect this to happen…” Spencer admitted, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of crimson as he chuckled awkwardly. 

“That’s really sweet, actually,” you replied, your voice softening as you took in the sight of him. The sincerity in his words made your heart skip a beat, a reminder of why you had been drawn to him in the first place. “Yes, I do,” you confirmed, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. “Let me up real quick.”

Spencer playfully groaned, a sound filled with exaggerated reluctance as he shifted to give you space. But before you could move, he leaned down, leaving a small, teasing bite on your asscheek—a cheeky gesture that sent a spark of pleasure through you.

“Down, boy!” you teased, your voice a mock admonishment as you slipped out of his grasp, your feet finding the floor with a soft thud. You cast a playful glance back at him, enjoying the sight of him sprawled on the bed, watching you while he pulled on his own cock.

As you turned back to the bed, condom in hand, you found Spencer watching you with an intensity that made your heart race. The way he looked at you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered—was both thrilling and humbling.

“Got it,” you announced, your voice a playful sing-song as you waved the packet in the air. Spencer’s eyes lit up with amusement, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he watched you return to the bed.

You climbed back onto the mattress, feeling the familiar give of the sheets beneath your knees as you settled in beside him. The warmth of his body was a comforting presence, a stark contrast to the cool air of the room that brushed against your skin.

Spencer reached for you, his touch gentle and insistent as he guided you back into position. His hands were warm against your skin, the chemistry seemed to crackle between you.

Spencer tore open the foil packet, the soft crinkle of the wrapper a prelude to the main event. You could smell the faint scent of latex from the condom, mingling with the lingering aroma of his cologne—a spicy, woodsy scent that was undeniably masculine and entirely Spencer.

Spencer moved with a practiced ease, his fingers deft and sure as he prepared himself, rolling the condom down with a kind of confident precision that spoke of experience. The sight of him handling himself with such ease sent a thrill racing through you, your breath catching at the implication. It was a heady rush of desire that made your heart race and your skin flush with heat.

As he finished, Spencer's eyes locked onto yours, a smoldering intensity burning within them that made your pulse quicken. The weight of his gaze was almost tangible, a touch that was as intimate as any caress. You could feel the desire radiating off of him.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. His tone was full of promise, a dark velvet sound that wrapped around you like a warm embrace, holding you captive in its depths.

“Yes,” you breathed, the word barely a whisper as it slipped from your lips, heavy with need. Your body ached for his touch, every fiber of your being attuned to the promise of pleasure that awaited you.

Spencer leaned forward, his hands finding your hips with a surety that left you breathless. His touch was firm and possessive, a silent promise of the pleasure he intended to deliver. You could feel the warmth of his skin against yours, a delicious contrast to the cool air that still lingered around you.

His lips brushed against your ear, a featherlight touch that sent a thrill racing through you, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “I bet you feel as good as you taste,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. The confession was both intimate and incendiary, stoking the flames of your arousal until you were burning for him.

“Shit,” you whispered back, a high pitched sound that left your lips before you could think better of it. Spencer responded with a quiet, breathy chuckle that sent a shiver down your spine. His hands tightened on your hips, the pressure of his fingers was grounding.

He positioned himself at your entrance, the sensation sending a jolt through your body. The tip of him brushed against your core, a featherlight touch that made your breath catch and your heart race. 

Slowly, carefully, he began to push forward, the pressure building with each inch as he entered you. The feeling was exquisite, a slow, delicious burn that stretched you around him, filling you completely. The friction was intoxicating, a perfect balance of pleasure and pressure that had you gasping for breath.

Spencer let out a low, shuddering moan as he sank into you, his fingers digging into your hips with a possessive urgency that left you breathless. The sound was raw and primal, a testament to the pleasure that coursed through him, mirrored in the sensations that raced through your own body.

The room was filled with the sounds of your shared breaths, a quiet combination of gasps and moans that mingled with the rustle of the sheets beneath you. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and desire, a heady mix making you hyper aware of every touch, every sensation.

As he began to move, Spencer set a steady, deliberate pace that left you reeling with sensation. Each thrust was a measured blend of power and precision, a rhythm that built slowly, methodically, until it had you teetering on the edge of control.

“You feel so fucking good,” Spencer breathed, his voice a low, gravelly growl that sent a thrill racing through you. 

“So big,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to find words in the midst of the overwhelming sensations that flooded your senses. The feel of him moving inside you, the way he filled you completely, was a pleasure that bordered on overwhelming, leaving you breathless and aching for more.

Spencer’s hands moved with a purpose, tracing the curves of your body as he drove you higher, his touch both grounding and incendiary. You could feel the heat of his skin against yours, the way his muscles flexed with each movement, feeling the strength and control he wielded.

His lips found your neck, trailing a line of heated kisses along the sensitive skin that sent shivers down your spine. The feel of his mouth against your skin was electric, a tantalizing mix of heat and teeth that left you gasping for breath, your body arching into his touch.

The sensation of his body moving against yours, the delicious friction as he drove deeper, harder, was a pleasure that threatened to unravel you completely. Each thrust sent waves of ecstasy radiating through you.

“Spencer,” you gasped, the word slipping past your lips as a breathless plea, a desperate cry for more.

His response was immediate, his pace quickening as he drove into you, each movement a perfect blend of power and precision that left you on the brink of release. His hands tightened on your hips, his grip firm and possessive as he pulled you back to meet each of his thrusts. The sensation was overwhelming, a delicious friction that sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You could feel the strength in his fingers, the way they dug into your flesh with each powerful motion, grounding you even as you felt yourself being pushed closer and closer to the edge. The heat of his hands against your skin was a stark contrast to the cool air of the room, adding another layer of sensation to the already heady mix.

The sounds of your bodies moving together filled the room, a symphony of wet, rhythmic slaps and breathless gasps that only heightened your arousal. Each thrust sent a new wave of pleasure rippling through you, building in intensity with every movement until you were teetering on the edge of control.

Spencer’s breath was hot against your ear, each exhale a ragged sigh that sent shivers down your spine. “How are you still so tight?” he groaned, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that resonated through your entire body. The words were a potent mix of praise and desire, pushing you even closer to the brink.

Your own breath came in short, ragged gasps, each inhale a struggle as you fought to hold on to your control. “Spencer,” you moaned, your body aching for release.

His response was a deep, primal growl that vibrated through his chest and into your back, his hips snapping forward with a renewed intensity that left you breathless. His hands guided your movements, pulling you back to meet each thrust with a force that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body.

The pressure within you built to a fever pitch, a tight coil that wound tighter and tighter with each powerful thrust. Your senses were overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the sensations, the feel of him driving into you, the sound of his voice in your ear, the taste of salt on your lips as you bit down, trying to hold on just a little longer.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Spencer groaned, his voice a rough, desperate sound that sent a thrill racing through you. “I’m so close.”

The admission was your undoing. The coil within you snapped, sending a wave of blinding ecstasy crashing over you. Your body tensed, every muscle tightening as you cried out, the sound raw and unrestrained as you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure.

Spencer continued to move, driving you through the waves of your release with a steady, relentless rhythm that left you trembling and gasping for breath. The feeling of him moving inside you, filling you completely, was a pleasure that bordered on overwhelming, each thrust sending new ripples of sensation through your already oversensitive body.

As the aftershocks of your orgasm faded, Spencer’s pace grew more erratic, his breath coming in short, desperate gasps. You could feel the strain in his muscles, the way his fingers dug into your hips with a new urgency.

“Spencer,” you whispered, your voice a soft, breathless plea as you turned your head to catch his gaze. The look in his eyes was a perfect reflection of the intensity you felt, raw desire and desperate need that sent another wave of heat through you.

With a final, powerful thrust, Spencer buried himself deep inside you, his body tensing as he reached his own release. The sound of his pleasure—a low, guttural groan—sent a shiver of satisfaction through you.

The room was filled with the quiet sounds of your mingled breaths, a soft, rhythmic counterpoint to the fading echoes of your shared passion. Spencer’s grip on your hips softened, his touch becoming a gentle caress as he leaned forward, pressing a tender kiss to the nape of your neck.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered, his voice a soft, reverent murmur that sent a final shiver of pleasure through you. 

You turned your head to meet his gaze, a satisfied smile playing on your lips as you caught your breath. “So are you, Doctor.”

Spencer chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with affection and lingering desire as he gently helped you shift to a more comfortable position. The warmth of his body against yours was soothing, a perfect counterpoint to the lingering heat of your shared passion. You nestled into his embrace, feeling a sense of peace and contentment settle over you as you allowed yourself to relax in his arms.

The steady rhythm of his breathing, the comforting weight of his presence, lulled you into a state of drowsy contentment. You felt safe and secure in his arms, the events of the night playing through your mind in a haze of satisfaction and warmth.

Slowly, the pull of sleep became too strong to resist, and you allowed yourself to drift off, cocooned in the comforting embrace of the man who had brought you such intense pleasure. The last thing you remembered before slipping into the depths of slumber was the gentle press of Spencer's lips against your forehead, a tender kiss that spoke volumes.

—

Morning came all too soon, the soft light of dawn filtering through the curtains and casting a gentle glow over the room. You woke slowly, the memories of the night before still vivid in your mind as you lay in the warmth of Spencer's embrace. For a moment, you allowed yourself to savor the feeling, the sense of belonging that came from being wrapped in his arms.

But reality soon intruded, and you knew that you couldn't stay. With a quiet sigh, you carefully extricated yourself from his embrace, moving with practiced ease to avoid waking him. Spencer's face was peaceful in sleep, a small smile playing on his lips that made your heart ache with affection and regret.

You knew he’d be confused when he woke up in your apartment alone. The realization that you had made a mistake by bringing him here weighed heavily on you. You quickly dressed, the rustle of your clothes sounding loud in the otherwise silent room. Every movement felt like a betrayal, a departure from the intimacy you had shared just hours before.

Grabbing a sticky note pad and a pen from your desk, your mind raced as you tried to think of what to write. The pen felt heavy in your hand, the blank surface of the note a stark reminder of the conversation you couldn't have face to face.

Spencer, you wrote, your handwriting shaky and rushed, Thank you for last night. There’s a key under the mat, please lock the door on your way out. Take care.

You placed the note where he would see it, the yellow square stark against the dark wood of your dresser. You stood there for a moment, taking in the sight of him one last time, memorizing the peaceful curve of his lips, the way his hair fell across his forehead.

With a heavy heart, you turned and quietly left the room. You headed for a friend's house, your thoughts a tangled mess of emotions. You needed to stay busy, to distract yourself until you were sure Spencer had left your apartment. As you knocked on the door, you resolved to cherish the memory of the night you had shared with Spencer, even as you moved forward with your life.

—

It had been a month since Spencer's encounter with you. At first, he was extremely confused and hurt, thinking there was a real spark between the two of you. Upon leaving your apartment that morning, he realized he never got your last name or your phone number. He didn't even know your address properly. Technically, he could figure it out quite easily, but he knew if you wanted him to talk to you again, you would have stayed.

For about two weeks, he thought about you every day and night, replaying the moments you shared and trying to understand what went wrong. Initially, he was sad, then worried something might have happened, and finally, he became livid at the thought that you might have used him. But now, it had been a month, and he had resigned himself to forget you and move on with his life.

Back to regular life, Spencer walked into the bullpen, immediately sensing something unusual. Everyone was not-so-subtly glancing toward Hotch’s office, their expressions twisted with curiosity and surprise.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.

“There’s a woman in Hotch’s office,” Emily replied, her eyes flicking toward the closed door.

“Okay?” Spencer prompted, waiting for more context.

“She knew my name, man,” Derek added, sounding both impressed and slightly confused.

“Uh oh, did you forget one of your many lovers?” Spencer joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Not cool, kid. I’d remember a pretty face like hers,” Derek said, shaking his head.

“How else would she know you?” Emily asked, her curiosity mirroring Spencer’s.

Just then, the door to Hotch’s office opened, and you stepped out, accompanied by Aaron. “Guys, this is Agent Y/N Y/L,” Hotch said, introducing you to the team. “She will be joining us while JJ is on maternity leave.”

Spencer’s heart stopped as he saw you. He felt all the blood drain from his face, a wave of nausea threatening to overwhelm him. There you were, the woman who had loved him and then left him without a trace, now standing in front of him in the bullpen.

You seemed calm and composed, completely unaware of the storm raging inside Spencer. You gave a polite smile and nodded at the team, your eyes briefly locking with Spencer’s before moving on, not recognizing him immediately, or not caring.

“Nice to meet you all,” you said, your voice steady and professional. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

The rest of the team greeted you warmly, exchanging pleasantries, while Spencer remained rooted to his spot, his mind racing. Finally, your eyes fell on him and really looked.

“Hi, Doctor,” you said calmly, your voice steady and composed.

“Y/N,” he replied, his tone clipped and strained.

“Hold up, do you two know each other?” Derek asked, his curiosity piqued.

“I remember you!” Penelope cut in, her eyes lighting up with recognition. “You were at the Doctor Who convention! Madame de Pompadour! You looked beautiful.”

“Thank you!” you responded with a warm smile. “I don’t recall meeting you, I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, we didn’t meet, sweetie,” Penelope giggled kindly. “I saw you talking to Reid here.”

“Ah,” you said, a hint of realization dawning in your eyes as you glanced back at Spencer.

The strain between you and Spencer was tangible, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. Spencer’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, trying to process the fact that you were now standing in front of him, a part of his professional life.

“So, how do you two know each other?” Emily asked, her eyes darting between the two of you.

“We… met at the convention,” Spencer said, his voice strained as he struggled to keep his emotions in check.

“Yes, we did,” you confirmed, keeping your tone neutral. “It was a brief encounter.”

Spencer's jaw tightened at your choice of words, the hurt and confusion from a month ago resurfacing with a vengeance. He knew he had to keep it together, at least for now, but the unresolved feelings were making it difficult.

“Small world, huh?” Derek said with a chuckle, oblivious to the undercurrents of tension.

“Indeed,” you replied, your eyes flicking back to Spencer. “I’m looking forward to working with all of you.”

Spencer nodded stiffly, his mind still racing with questions and emotions. He knew he needed to talk to you, to get some answers, but now wasn’t the time. He would have to wait for a more private moment to confront you about what had happened.

For now, he had to focus on the task at hand, pushing aside his personal turmoil to maintain his professionalism. But as he watched you interact with the rest of the team, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was far from over.

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

tag list <333 @spencerreidsreads @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @dirtytissuebox @yokaimoon @reggieswriter @loumouse @mentallyunwellsposts @time-himself @chaneladdicted @kathrynlakestone @furrybouquettrash @hearts4spensco @gilwm @khxna

[sincerelybubbles]

Here's a dialogue prompt for Emily please! Try this out pls. Love you Kam sm sm. "So why are you here?" "To make a fool of myself." ok ty lysm

even though i watched u type this, the wording makes me giggle every time i look at it.

emily prentiss x tech analyst!reader <3

warnings: fem!reader, cannon typical violence, very brief allusions to sexual assault (nothing happens!), angst and fluff! mutual pining.

word count: 5.4k

Emily is the loveliest thing you've ever seen and you can't imagine how she could ever possibly like you back. She enjoys the game, though, and teasing you is her favorite hobby.

-

It’s a sunny day. Warmth trickles down with the scattered light through the leaves. Patterns trace your arms, throwing your skin into a collage of different shapes and shades. Leaning back on your elbows, you watch people mill about the park. You look back down at your arm after a few more minutes, this time focused on the small watch resting there. With a sigh, you stand up and dust off your pants before picking up the small blanket you laid out and tucking it into your bag. 

You walk back to work, enjoying the sounds of the people around you. You lingered too long at the park during your break and are hoping that nobody notices your slightly late return. Maybe the team will be in a meeting, gruesome pictures you never quite learned to stomach plastered on the board, entirely oblivious to your tardiness. 

Unlikely, but a welcome thought soothing your anxiety as you push the door open and scan your badge at the security desk. 

“Welcome back,” the security guard says, smiling at you over his paperback. He’s an old greying man and you vaguely recognize him. You think he’s new and send him a warm smile in return. 

“Thanks,” you glance at his name badge, “Martin!”

You walk past him and step into the elevator. “Wait!” A voice calls and you reach forward to hit the hold button instinctively before you register the voice as Emily’s. 

She jogs into the elevator with you, smiling gratefully. “Thanks, I’m already running a little behind.” She lifts a container and shakes it a little. The label is from the Italian bistro across the street, about a ten-minute walk away and always nearly triple that in wait time. 

“Brave of you to go there during your lunch,” you joke, returning her smile and pressing the button for your floor. 

You hope she can’t see how your hands shake as you reach forward.

“I know, I just love their Pasta Brado. Have you tried it?”

“Can’t say I have. I’m boring, I usually go for the parm.”

“You’re not boring,” she says so earnestly that you can’t help but blush. You cough as an excuse to raise your hand to your face and hopefully hide it some. “You do have to try it, though. Here,” she offers you the plastic box. 

“Oh, I couldn’t. And I already ate.” You ignore the way your chest hurts a little at how enthusiastic she is. The worst part? She doesn’t even know how endearing her simple kindness, her casual enthusiasm, is to you. 

“Tomorrow, then. We can go together.” The elevator doors open as she says it and she steps out with an affirmative nod to solidify it. “Don’t try to bail out on me either, I know where to find you.”

“Yeah, I'm okay,” you say, feeling lame as you step out behind her. “I would love to.” She’s too far to hear you, though, already heading to Spencer’s desk and jumping right into his conversation with Morgan. 

Someone says your last name and you turn on your heel to see Hotch and cringe slightly. “I was trying to find you.” It’s a kinder way of him reminding you that you’re nearly ten minutes late back from your lunch. 

“Sorry, sir.”

“It’s fine. Do you have the reports finished from last week's trip to Huston?”

“Yes, sir, they’re at my desk. One moment.”

-

You and Emily don’t go to the bistro the next day because she and the team are sent to a small town in Kansas that night. 

“I’ll owe you lunch,” she says, hand on the back of your desk chair and brushing your shoulder as the team rushes to the jet. 

“Don’t worry about it!” You reassure her.

“I’m taking you to lunch,” she calls over her shoulder, pretend-glaring, “you will try that Brado!”

And then she’s gone, leaving you giddy and breathless. 

You know she’s just being friendly – she treats Spencer, Morgan, and JJ all the same as you – but her efforts to spend one-on-one time with you outside of work still have you feeling like a schoolgirl passed a note from her crush in class. 

You try to remind your heart to stop singing because Emily probably isn’t even gay and definitely isn’t interested. Instead, Garcia scares the shit out of you when she interrupts your inner monologue. 

“Lunch with Emily? Things are getting serious in your work marriage.” You hadn’t seen her walk into the room and jump at her voice, hand jumping to your mouth to suppress a yelp. “Sorry! Sorry!”

“It’s okay, didn’t see you.”

“Your loss, I look fantastic today.”

“As always,” you smile up at her, nose wrinkling and genuine fondness filling your senses. 

“Careful, wouldn’t want a workplace affair,” she jokes, leaning against your desk and picking up the stress ball you keep handy. 

“Stop,” you moan in good nature. “Nobody else calls us work wives.”

“That’s just because they don’t have my brilliance and excellent observational skills.”

“Nor do they have the same privy to my more personal thoughts,” you say, glancing up at her before returning to your paperwork. With the team leaving so quickly to tend to a missing child's case, you’re not getting home in time to cook dinner but are hoping to leave early enough to grab food instead of resorting to your freezer stash. 

“I would hope not. You know I can’t be replaced, baby.”

“Does Morgan know you talk to all your work besties like this?”

“I most certainly do not. You’re a regular bestie, not a work bestie.” A wink and then her expression sobers. “I do have an actual reason for visiting your humble cubical, though.”

“Hm?”

“I’m going to need extra hands for this case. It’s time-sensitive, as usual, and seems like it will be particularly tricky.”

“Yes ma’am,” you say, dropping your pen and standing to follow her. 

Your position at the bureau is kind of a catch-all. Most of your time is spent logging data, building reports, and doing general research for the team. Occasionally, though, you jump in to help Garcia with real-time research. Nothing as high-stakes as her direct assignments, more background work. Calling offices to talk to managers, combing through more meticulous data, generic census material to rule out obvious dead ends. 

It’s stressful work that technically isn’t what you’re paid for but you never complain. Your team saves lives, consistently putting themselves in the line of danger. If you have to spend a few hours a month helping Garcia call a suspect's manager at McDonald's to see if he still works there, it’s literally the least you can do. 

“Yes, so, it looks like our unsub…”

You drown out Garcia’s brief about information you already have sitting in front of you and begin vetting possible suspects from the large pool her system created.

It’s going to be a long night. You think about future Brado to cheer you up. 

-

“Reid, Prentiss take the back,” Hotch’s voice fills your ears. You imagine the pair nodding and splitting off from the group. 

This is your least favorite part of helping the team with active investigations – listening in on the calls. It’s rare that you and Garcia join the line when they’re approaching the unsub but, with you helping her, it isn’t a risk to distract Garcia and a much quicker method of getting any new information the team needs. It’s a new system you’ve only tried thrice, unsure how having microphones on 24/7 will work, and it grants you and the team more fluid communication.

Still, adrenaline floods your veins as you listen to their coms, the sounds of Garcia typing a constant behind their voices, imagining every way this could go wrong. 

You suspect the girl is still alive, the uncle doesn’t seem to have any reason to kill her just yet, but your fear for her grows with every minute. 

“Clear!”

Your eyes fall to the receipts flooding your screen. Ammo. A new rifle and pistol. The team knows but the evidence of this unsubs ability to hurt any of your friends, your family, isn’t helping your nerves. 

“I think he’s going to the roof!” Morgan’s voice, clear in the comms. 

You click out of the documents. Two swift motions on the screen. The firm press of the button. 

“Morgan, you’re on foot. Prentiss, follow him. Everyone else in vans, go!”

“Garcia, map out possible escape routes from the roof,” you instruct. 

She nods, screens shifting immediately. She puts on her own headset with one hand and clicks on the call and starts to bark information to Hotch. 

“Got her!” Reid’s voice sounds and you deflate a little. He mutes as he begins to console the small girl. 

You know you can take off your headset now, leave the call, and go to your paperwork. There isn’t much more you can do to help – you’re sure that’s what you’re supposed to do – but you stay on anyway, listening. 

“Right on Elmore!” Morgan calls. You find the street on Garcia’s screen, eyes tracing the path you think they’re taking. 

“We’ll try to cut him off,” Rossi says and you can hear tires in the background of the call. The click of a steering wheel cutting to the side too quickly. Someone’s labored breathing – probably Morgan’s as he dead sprints. 

“Stop! Put your hands up!” Emily shouts. The firmness in her voice makes you sit up straighter in your chair. 

You hear something that sounds vaguely like, “bitch,” before a loud pop drowns anything else out. 

“Emily!” Morgan’s voice, more pops. 

Gunfire. That’s gunfire, your brain recognizes. 

Your blood has gone cold.

“We need a medic!” Morgan shouts. Hotch’s line blinks red, going dead as he calls the ambulance. “Emily, Emily.”

Rustling. Cars. Sirens. Morgan’s line goes dead after you hear a car door slam shut. Then Reid’s and Rossi’s. Emily’s is the last to stay green, blinking.

You and Garcia stare at each other as you listen to Emily be loaded into an ambulance. Listen to Morgan tell the team, voice far away and barely tangible, that the unsub only managed to fire out one shot before he downed him. 

Neither of you can hear where she was shot or how badly injured she is before Emily’s line goes red as well.

-

“Emily?” You call softly, rapping your knuckles softly on the frame of the cracked hospital door. 

Your name, faint, answers you and you take that as permission to nudge the door open. The room looked dark from the hallway but Emily has the small lamp embedded on the wall switched on, throwing her face into harsh shadow. 

“Hey, you,” you say, walking in, arms full. “I brought things.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” she says, trying to sit herself up further and wincing as the motion pulls on her stitches in her abdomen. 

“Wait, let me help you,” you say, setting your things down and reaching out a hand. 

You wait for her nod before touching her, letting her grasp your arm and looping your other arm around the back of her waist to take most of her weight yourself. 

“Thanks,” she mumbles. You can tell she hates feeling useless, hates needing help for something as simple as sitting up, so you drop the subject with a nod and kind smile. 

You turn around to the small rolling tray where you put your things down, pulling two black containers out from a plastic bag. You feel silly and very awkward as you turn around to show them to her. 

“I know it’s probably not quite what you meant but,” you set the containers down on her bed and pop one open. 

“The Pasta Brado! Oh man, I was going to treat you.” She’s pouting through a smile, attempting to put on an upset facade and failing miserably. 

It’s so cute that you struggle with what to say next. 

“Thank you, really. You can pull up that chair, if you’re hungry now.”

You grab the chair she’s motioned to and drag it to sit next to her. “I’m hungry if you are. It might be a little cold, though, it’s kind of a far walk.”

“You walked here?” Emily asks, tone appalled and face comically shocked. 

“Yeah, my car broke down last week. I’ve been walking to work – it’s actually really nice out right now – and I couldn’t find a cab from the bistro.” You busy yourself with the food while you talk, opening the second container, setting it on her legs, and unwrapping the plastic cutlery for her. 

“Jesus! You didn’t need to come and see me if you don’t have a car. You didn’t need to come at all, actually. I really appreciate it,” she amends, seeing how your bashful smile freezes on your face, reaching forward as if to touch your face and brushing your shoulder instead. “It’s really sweet of you but you didn’t need to walk all that way. Isn’t it like a twenty-minute walk from here?”

Over thirty, but you nod anyway, knowing it won’t help your case to correct her. “It’s not a big deal. You were shot in the stomach, of course I wanted to see you.”

“Ah, so you wouldn't want to see me otherwise,” she teases, nodding and pushing her pasta around with her fork. She doesn’t even try to conceal her grin. 

“Ha ha, very funny,” you mumble. You take a bite of your food and your eyes widen. “Oh my god.”

“I knew you would love it,” she beams, watching your expression as you taste the food. You you she meant to say it in a gloating way but you swear you can hear a sort of fondness behind the words. Something in you warms at her ability to know you so well. 

You tell yourself you’re overreacting about both thoughts. 

“You were right – Emily this is unfairly good.”

“Oh, I know,” she says, taking her own bite and letting out an exaggerated moan, complete with an eye roll. You giggle and she smiles at you. “Thank you, this is exactly what I needed.”

“You’re welcome,” you say, holding her eye contact. 

She's been in the hospital for three days, transferred back to Virginia last night; her hair is unwashed and unbrushed, and she’s wearing no makeup and a hospital gown. 

She’s still the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen. 

-

Your car is fixed by the time Emily is released from the hospital two days later and you offer to take her home. 

“Hi Sergio,” you greet the cat brushing against your legs as Emily disengages the alarm. 

You set her things down by the door before turning to offer her your arm. Emily doesn’t pretend that she doesn’t need the help when it’s just you two, something you’re grateful for after watching her struggle with the team around, and lets you guide her to her bedroom. 

You set about making her comfortable, turning down her sheets and propping the pillows up so she can sit. 

“I’ve got it,” she laughs, playfully pushing away your hands. 

You laugh along with her, raising your hands and backing away. “I’m going to go put the rest of your stuff away and get you a drink.”

“Perfect, I’ll take an old-fashioned. Don’t forget the cherry.”

You roll your eyes at her, scoffing and leaving her room. 

You throw her clothes and go-bag in her laundry room before making her a glass of water and another glass of juice. Once you’re sure she’s settled in her bed with her book, you return to the kitchen to make her a few dinners, ignoring her protests. 

-

Emily is back in the field much sooner than you would have liked. 

“I was cleared by the doctors,” she tells you, coat slung over her arm as she digs through her bag for her badge. 

You smile at Martin, sending him a mock exasperated look, before she finds her ID and shows it to him. 

“It still seems too soon, Em,” you persist, reaching forward to push the elevator button and turning so you can lean back to watch her face. 

“Em?” Emily asks, the hint of a smile pulling up the left corner of her mouth. 

You sort of feel like you could die in that moment, just from the heat that simple gesture surges through you. 

“It just sort of slipped out, sorry,” you say, thoroughly embarrassed. 

The elevator dings and the doors open, throwing you off balance for a second. This doesn’t help your already flared nerves as you stumble back and drop your bag. You reach down to gather it and the files scattered across the floor. 

You’re kneeling to stuff everything in your bag when Emily crosses your line of sight again, wide smile on her face – teeth fully on display and nose scrunched, you are in desperate need of help – holding out your notepad.

“I think the nickname’s sweet. I kind of like the idea of having a name only one person, only you, calls me.”

All of the air has left this godforsaken elevator, the heat must be on, you stare dumbly at her as she reaches forward to grab your bag and put the rest of your papers inside of it for you. 

And then, realizing you look like an absolute idiot, you snap back into your body and cough slightly. The doors ding and open again, you grab your bag from her and stand slowly. Smiling at her, still crouched on the floor and looking, amused, up at you through her eyelashes, you say, “Okay. Thanks, then, Emmy.”

You walk away after that brief flash of confidence, telling yourself you’re just imagining how you swear her face flushed bright at your comment. 

And if Morgan mentions a few minutes that Emily seems flusters, well, who can blame you for floating on that high for a few days?

Except she doesn’t let it go. 

She corners you on your break in the kitchenette. Literally. She catches you when you’re examining the coffee pot that has been making concerning gurgles for the past few days and leans on the counter behind you, effectively blocking your exit. 

Not that you really want to leave. 

She’s wearing a red tank top and dark jeans, her hair is loose around her shoulders, eyes steadily trained on your face as you work. 

“Hello,” you say, quiet in a way you’re not normally. 

“Hi.”

“What’re you doing?” You ask after a few more moments of her silently staring at you while you pretend to know what you’re doing with a screwdriver. 

“Enjoying the view.”

You drop your screwdriver and relish in the sound of her laugh. 

-

You’d love to say that you had some suave answer to return her charm but you think you spent it all that morning with your boldness. 

You’re not shy but confidence doesn’t run in your blood either. You’d say you’re pretty normal – average. You don’t find much wrong with that, you know you have other qualities that build you up into an interesting person. You love your friends and coworkers deeply, for one. And have an intense trust in them and their abilities. 

That trust is always tested in your day-to-day at work but never more than now as you feel the car around you make turns at highway speeds. You think you’re on some sort of back road but it’s hard to tell from the trunk given the obvious lack of windows. 

You’re calmer than you thought you would be if kidnapped. 

Groaning after one particularly rough turn that has you jostling against the sides of the trunk, you allow your head to thump back and stare at the inside of the dark car. Light breaks through the cracks of the hinges of the trunk and you wonder if water trickles through when it rains. 

You’ve been in here too long to consider if you’re focused on the wrong things. You’re scared shitless, of course, but the adrenaline faded about an hour into your drive and now you’re just bored. 

Imagine that – bored as fuck in the trunk of a stranger's car, wrists burning from the rope and jaw sore from where it’s been forced open too long by the fabric tied around the back of your head. 

You’re just allowing yourself to reimagine your morning with Emily when the car stops and the engine cuts. 

You snap back into the present, energy flooding your system again as your brain flicks into overdrive. You might spend your days paper-pushing behind a desk, but you passed your physical. You’re smart, you’ve heard the stories of how these victims survive captivity. 

When the trunk pops open, you squeeze your eyes shut to prevent pain from the sudden lack of light. You don’t want to be blinded and the action has the added benefit of pleasing your captor. He put a hood over your hood when he grabbed you, muttering in your ear in tense tones that you would do best to not even try to see him. 

Say what you will, you usually do a pretty good job at following directions. This one is easy and happens to be number one on your list right now – keep him happy so he keeps you alive. 

“Good girl,” a gruff voice says before a calloused hand gropes the back of your neck to yank you forward. Scratchy fabric envelops your head and your hot breath bounces back against you, trapped against the fabric of the hood. 

You stand when his hands start to grab your waist, pulling yourself to your knees and allowing yourself to be lifted from the trunk.

You want to run but know now’s not the time. 

“Look at how well-behaved you are!” His breath is wet against your neck. He stands too close, hands clawing under the hem of your shirt to cling to your skin. 

He walks you forward like that, chest pressed against your back and breath slithering down the collar of your shirt to hang uncomfortably over your collarbones. 

It’s becoming increasingly more obvious what this sicko wants from you and your stomach is twisting at the thought. You urge the team to hurry up, knowing your absence would have been missed ages ago. They have to be looking for you by now. And, with how sloppy this dude seems to be, he must have left a plethora of clues waiting to be found. 

You have to repeat this to yourself as you hear a door lock click. 

“Took you long enough. This is the girl? She’s kind of … well,” the second man kisses his teeth with a sharp sound. You’re pushed forward again. “Whatever floats your boat man.” The door shuts and locks behind you. The second man's voice fades as he talks, disinterested. 

You wonder if it’s wrong to feel slightly insulted right now. 

“This way, doll.”

You listen. It’s saving your life to be complicit in his directions, so you listen. Still, you’re shoved harshly to the floor once you get to where he wants you, knees striking what feels like cement. Before you can recover, your cheek stings and your head is whipping to the side from a sudden slap. 

Then, there’s a kick to your ribs. You fall onto your side, too winded to even cry out, lips falling open in a silent scream. A boot in your belly. Your ribs again, your hip and back. 

“Why?” You manage to sob out. “Why, why?”

You don’t get an answer.

-

You’re not overly religious but you thank whatever heavens or universe exists that he leaves you alone once he’s done kicking the shit out of you. Your ribs are bruised but the worst you expected hasn’t happened. 

The boredom returns as you lay with throbbing ribs. At least one is broken and every breath hurts. You can’t imagine sitting up and, luckily, with your hands tied behind your back, it’s not really an option anyway. 

It must be near an hour later when you’re fading out of consciousness – a purposeful choice on your part to save your energy – when you hear the front door burst down. 

“FBI! Hands where I can see them!” Morgan. You nearly weep but think better when your stuttered gasp makes your side throb. “What the fuck?” You hear shouted in reply. “Robb, what the fuck man.”

There isn’t much of a resistance from the living room. The second man is shouting at what you can only assume is the first – your initial kidnapper – but there’s nothing else other than that. 

“Clear!” You hear Hotch call. Spencer replies and then you hear the door nearest you open. 

His voice calls out your name. You deflate against the floor. A second, you know he’s scanning the room with his gun before holstering it. “Clear! I need a medic!”

Hands, gentle, against your face, removing the hood. Swifter after that, removing your gag, and then hand binds. 

“Hey, Spence,” you say, trying to smile up at him. 

“Shh, you’re okay. We’ve got you.” He starts to support your weight behind your shoulders and the pain that brings is too intense to prevent your yelp. 

“Oh my god, is she okay?” You hear Emily ask seconds before you see her. She looks concerned, hair now in a tight ponytail and FBI vest strapped over her chest. She whispers your name once and then a second time, reaching forward to gently brush your hair out of your eyes. 

“Hey, pretty,” you say, words tumbling out of your mouth before you can catch them.

“Hi beautiful,” she answers, reply just as soft as your own. Earnest. 

It makes your heart ache and, for the first time since being yanked off the road walking to grab lunch, you start to cry. 

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, beautiful, it’s okay. You’re okay.” She repeats this as you’re lifted by the paramedics and cry harder. 

She repeats it when they stitch up where kicks burst the skin over your cheekbone open, repeats it as she trails a hand down your arm in gentle patterns while they examine your ribs and confirm that you’ve broken two, maybe three. 

She tries with you in the ambulance. 

You can’t help but think about being on the phone when you heard Emily be shot weeks earlier. You squeeze your eye shut as they insert the IV, beyond grateful that she’s there to hold your hand while they do it. The tear that falls down your cheek has nothing to do with the pain and everything to do with the thought that you couldn’t have been there for her in the same way. 

An odd thought, you realize, but it’s the one you’re stuck with as you drift away when the pain medicine enters your system. 

-

You’re sent home three days later. You insist on spending the night alone, afraid to admit you’re scared because, honestly, nothing much happened to you. 

Oh, of course, everyone tries to convince you otherwise but you know they’ve all had it worse. You were gone from the bureau for about eight hours and spent most of it bored. 

So you force yourself to spend the night alone. You don’t need help moving around or doing things for yourself so you convince yourself you don’t need help. 

You’re cooking dinner when the doorbell rings. You wipe your hands with a dish towel and take your time walking to the door to look through the peephole. You don’t know who took you yet, you haven’t asked and nobody has said, but you can imagine seeing him through the door. Waiting for you, waiting to kill you this time. 

Okay, yeah, maybe Spencer was right when he talked about PTSD and usual levels of anxiety, but you’re so tired of him being so right all of the time that you really want to prove him right.

There is no man standing on the other side of the door, though. Instead, you see Emily, holding a plate wrapped in tin foil and looking serene in your apartment hallway. 

You open the door quickly, unlatching it and turning off your alarm with a few clicks. “Emily?”

“Ah, man, I was getting used to Emmy,” she jokes, stepping inside with a smile in your direction and kicking off her shoes. 

You can’t think of an answer so you just smile at her, hoping she’ll take the lead. You’re tired and she must see it because she offers the plate in her hands to you once the door is closed and the alarm is reengaged. 

“Rossi sent me with it with explicit instructions to not let you share it.”

You giggle and take the plate. “I’ll have to tell him thank you. It’s kind of out of your way to come all this way, though, isn’t it?”

“Not out of my way at all,” she says, words dripping with meaning as she holds your eyes. “I would have come even if Rossi didn’t have food for you.”

“So why are you here?”

“To make a fool of myself,” she says, casually, like that’s something people say every day, “probably. You’ve just gotten back from the hospital and I know you said you wanted to be alone, but,” she swallows and her words are becoming more rushed as she speaks, “I said the same thing and you still stayed.”

“Emily?” You ask, setting the plate down on your hallway table and clearing your throat. “Ah, Emmy?” You amend when she cuts you a look. Your attempt to diffuse the tension doesn’t work and she steps closer so you’re toe to toe.

“That doesn’t really answer your question, though. You’re sweet enough that you would let it go, but,” she shrugs, reaching forward to gently loop her fingers around your wrists. “Stop me if this is awful timing. Please,” she says, leaning forward and staring into your eyes. 

You feel like you’re suffocating, but if this is death, you’ll greet it gladly in the irises of Emily Prentiss. You’re caught in the trap of the moment, heart hardly breathing, all aches and sores forgotten because Emily is leaning closer, breath fanning across your face. You feel intoxicated, ensnared. 

Everything that has ever been exists here, now, in this moment. Every breath used to blow out birthday candles and blow away eyelashes – breaths with purpose, with wishes, with intent – exists between the two of you as she leans closer and closer. Closer, still, and how can so much distance exist between you two when you’ve been standing so closely?

“Just, stop me, if you want,” she whispers against your lips, eyes falling shut. 

Time yawns again, freezing. Your eyes open, hers closed, beats of seconds pausing. Hesitating for you to hold this moment in your hands. You’re grateful to appreciate it because she really is so lovely. Her bangs are pushed back from her face with a headband – imagine that! Emily owns headbands! – and you can see every detail of her face. Her elegant nose, her slim eyebrows, her narrow, prominent, lips.

And then your heart finally catches up, beats loudly, cracks whatever fragile plane of glass holding the moment so perfectly still, and her lips are meeting yours. 

You gasp into her mouth, hands breaking out of her hold to grab her face. You’re afraid that she’s going to pull away before this kiss can be fully real. Before you can actually taste her – lemon cake and rain and warmth. Before you can memorize the feel of her lips pressed against your own before you can drag her closer and slip your hands into her hair. 

But she doesn’t pull away. She meets your enthusiasm with a sigh and then enthusiasm tenfold. You can feel relief in the kiss, feel how she relaxes into you. She takes a step forward and you take one back half the amount to account for it. 

A tilt of your head and it’s better, impossibly. She’s firm, sturdy, beautiful. Confident. Lovely, lovely, lovely. 

And then she reaches forward to hold you to her, hands brushing your ribs to wrap around your back and you can’t hold in the gasp of pain that causes you to stiffen. You want to take it back, want to ignore the pain, want to keep her near, but she won’t allow it.

“Oh, I’m so so sorry. Are you okay? I’m sorry.” You smush the apologies against her lips, removing one hand from her hand to guide her arms around your shoulders where they won’t hurt. “Okay! Okay,” she giggles, leaning back with several short kisses that do nothing to satiate you. “I need to know you’re okay.”

She can obviously tell she hasn’t hurt you too bad by your reaction, but the sweet caution in her voice has you melting further. 

“I’m perfect.”

[seospicybin]

THE EQUATION.

Seungmin x reader x Lee Know. (s)

Synopsis: Seungmin trusts nothing but numbers and dating you slightly changes that notion until Minho comes and mess the equation. (12,1k words)

Author's note: You guys have been asking for 2min content so here it is. Hope you like x

Unlike people, numbers don't lie. Politics, poetry, promises... those are lies but numbers, they are absolute, they are tangible and they will never lie or betray him. Numbers are what they are: the truth.

And that's why Kim Seungmin prefers to work with numbers, as an analyst at an investment trust company. His job includes analyzing bonds, stocks, and other financial instruments, studying the economic data and the financial markets, and recommending investments. He spends time predicting investment returns through various modeling techniques and assessing the risk of investments.

However, there's one thing in Seungmin's life that he couldn't predict with numbers and statistics, and that is you.

First of all, Seungmin is at the peak of his career, he likes his job and he enjoys what he's doing, in other words, he's living a fulfilling life his way.

Seungmin would rather use the time to bring in billions' worth of investments than waste it on something as frivolous as dating.

That was his initial thought until he met you one random afternoon at a cafe.

It's funny that the cafe is one that he regularly visits to get his morning coffee and somehow, he needed another cup of coffee after work, and of all the possibilities, you were the one taking his order even though you're the manager, not one of the baristas.

Seungmin is not one to believe in such things as fate or destiny but he has no other way to explain it, it feels like at that moment, the universe was trying to bring him and you together.

The next thing Seungmin knows, he's been dating you for six months now, and in those six months, he learned that dating seemed frivolous to him at that time because he hadn't met the right person yet. He also learns that not everything that is not tangible or absolute and not presented in data or statistics are lie.

There are three things that Seungmin believes are true: He likes you, he's happy with you and every day, he likes you more and more thus making him happier and happier.

-

Look at him now! Seungmin gets nervous knowing that he's late for dinner at your place, his foot tapping against the floor of the elevator as it takes him up to your floor.

The second the doors slide open, he walks as fast as he can while cradling the bottle of wine in his arm and carrying his briefcase in the other hand.

Despite knowing the code to your apartment, Seungmin prefers the doorbell. He holds all of his things in one arm to free his hand and presses the doorbell to alert you that he's here, then lets out a sigh.

It isn't much about the fact that he's nineteen minutes late, he's nervous about something else and the thought of it makes his hand fly to the back of his head, getting that weird feeling as he touches his hair that is now short.

The door swings open and your face lights up the moment your eyes lie on him.

"Baby!" You squeal in joy and jump at him, welcoming him with an enthusiastic hug and almost knocking his glasses off his nose.

With the things he carries in one arm, Seungmin can only hug you back as much as he can, and a while later, you pull away and open the door wider for him.

"I have to hurry and stir the sauce," you excuse yourself as you turn around and head straight back inside.

Seungmin doesn't get the chance to apologize for his tardiness, he lets himself in and takes his coat off, then carefully puts his briefcase down on the nearest chair.

He brings the bottle of wine with him as he joins you in the kitchen, "Bought us a bottle of wine."

You briefly glance at it and delightfully exclaim, "Red wine! That's perfect!"

Then you put your focus back on the sauce in the pan, stirring it with a wooden spatula in slow, circular motions, and once it bubbles up, you turn the stove off.

"Okay, now I can properly welcome my boyfriend home," you sweetly say as you approach him with open arms.

Seungmin hurriedly puts down the bottle of wine on the kitchen counter to keep it safe and also, to properly return your hug this time.

"Hi," you mutter with a smile as you put your hands around him and drop them on his shoulders, "I miss you."

It's something else that Seungmin can't find the logical explanation for it but when he's with you, the chemistry in his body drastically changes the second you enter his radar, he feels a surge of dopamine, he feels instant comfort and his body relaxed, and the moment both of your lips collide in an explosive kiss, his heart palpation.

All of a sudden, your lips stiffen against him and you slowly pull away, then bring your hand to the nape of his neck, tangling it in his short hair.

"Wait... did you cut your hair?" You ask with a sly smile on your face.

"Yeah, I did," Seungmin answers.

You take a moment to check his new haircut and at the same time, admire how it accentuates his already perfect facial features and how the dark of his hair adds intensity to his eyes.

"Do you like it?" He shyly asks.

You drop your hands around his neck and pull him close, "I love it," you reply.

Then you lean in for another kiss, harder and deeper while steering his body until his back meets the door of the fridge. You put your whole weight, putting your body against him until your bodies mold into each other.

When he's with you, his brain stops controlling his body and his heart takes over, making the chemistry in his body want only you and you and you.

And, oh, how good it feels that he gets what he wants and you're just for him and him only.

The beeping sounds coming from the oven interrupt the moment and you immediately pull away from the kiss to get to it.

"To be continued," you tell him with a sly smile.

Curls of steam escape the oven as you open it and the mouth-watering smell wafts around in the room, evoking his appetite. You put mitts on both hands and cautiously, take the tray out of the oven, revealing the perfectly roasted chicken.

Aware that you must put a lot of effort into making dinner, Seungmin knows that he, at least, should contribute to it apart from the bottle of wine he brought.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" He asks.

You take your oven mitts off and put them away, "You can open the bottle of wine and bring the glasses to the table."

Before doing what you order, Seungmin unbutton his cuffs and folds the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbow. He starts by opening the wine bottle and pulling the cork open with a loud popping sound. He then brings it to the table along with the two wine glasses he carries in one hand, he meticulously pours the wine and the aphrodisiac smell fills his nostrils as he takes a small sip at it.

The roasted chicken is just as delicious as it looked and the lemon dill sauce is just the perfect condiment, even better that the red wine complements the whole thing. It's such a simple yet heartwarming dinner, that Seungmin finds himself completely at ease and unknowingly lowering his guard down.

"...I think they miss their figures so I said let's increase by 15% because I was sure they'll strike gold with the new product line," Seungmin passionately shares a bit of his day at work.

"And I guess, you were right?" You ask before shoving a spoonful of food into your mouth.

"There was a line around the corner on the release date, I was right," he confirms with a small smile.

And when he's at ease like this, he can comfortably talk about almost anything with you and he's aware that it may bore you.

"Did I bore you?" He meekly asks.

"No," you hastily answer, placing your hand on his hand that rests on the table.

"You know I like it when you talk numbers," you add with a soft smile.

"This is really good, by the way," he says, averting the conversation to the food you cooked so incredibly.

"Glad you like it, baby," you say with a gentle squeeze on his hand.

There are no numbers or data that can tell Seungmin the reason why you like him, neither his look nor personality are that appealing and you are the opposite of that, you're beautiful and charming, you're so well-spoken, and now, you have proven that you're a good cook too.

Once again, he can't find the logical explanation to that but he's lucky to have met you.

Seungmin pours more wine into both of your glasses as you tidy up the kitchen after dinner, he sits on the sofa and waits for you to join him. You put on music through the portable speaker and the slow beat of the song softly plays in the background.

"Thank you," you say as you take the glass of wine from his hand.

The sofa fits three people but you opt to sit on Seungmin's lap, straddling him without spilling the wine in your hand. You take a small sip before putting it away on the coffee table.

"Thank you for the hearty dinner," he sincerely mutters his gratitude and he knows he has said it more than a dozen times already.

"If you're really thankful, where's my kiss then?"

Knowing that it would be a hassle, he takes his glasses off first and then puts his arms around you to draw you close. The hand that rests on the nape of your neck allows him to angle your head as he pleases and then slowly, he puts his lips on yours, conveying his gratitude through a kiss.

"Thank you," he murmurs when he breaks the kiss.

"You're very welcome," you reply.

You lay your hands on his shoulders and then glide them down his shoulder blade, feeling how broad and muscular they are. Then you bring your hands to the back of his hands, gently pulling at the short hair there.

"Did you sync your hair appointment with my menstrual cycle or something?"

Seungmin snorts at the random question, "No. Why?"

"Then why did you get a haircut when I'm ovulating, mmh?" You ask, purposely bumping your nose at his.

"No, that's not—" his words get cut off as you put a finger on his lips.

"Oh, stop playing dumb!" You tell him, putting your finger away so you can kiss him.

You kiss him hard until his head tilted to the back and he has no choice but to give in, letting your body pressed against him.

Seungmin gets light-headed from the kiss as he prioritizes kissing you back instead of breathing, and you know what? It's worth every second of it even though his lungs burn from the lack of oxygen.

Sensing that you both need a breather, you pull away from the kiss and slightly turn his head to the side to place kisses on his jaw.

"I think you should take responsibility for your actions," you whisper to him.

"I didn't do anything," he innocently says with a low chuckle.

His hand trails down your spine and stops on the arch of your back, his nails dug at your clothed skin as you plant searing kisses on his neck with your hot breath tickling his ear.

"I think you should put a baby in me," you softly whisper.

Not only the words secretly arousing him, it's also the way a sly smile blooms on your face after you say it, oh, he couldn't be more attracted to you!

"In this economy?" He asks with an eyebrow raised in disagreement.

"Yeah, you're right but..." You put your hands on his chest and put a space between your faces, "we can start by having unprotected sex."

He laughs at that and puts his hands on your thighs, "And risk to actually put a baby in you?"

You roll your eyes at him, sighing as your hands slump down his chest. With a deep breath, you try again in a way that intrigues him.

"If we're talking about the success rate of birth control, it's 99%," you begin your explanation.

"Yeah, but—"

You stop him from cutting you off by covering his mouth with your fingers, "Yeah, I know. I might have missed a pill or two but that only decreased the success rate to 93% which means..."

You put your hands around his neck and continue with your explanation, "There's only a 7% chance that you'll actually put a baby in me."

He glides his hands up to hold each side of your waist, "And that means 7 out of 100 pill users get actual babies in them."

"Yeah, but I'm part of the 93%," you confidently remark.

"Or you could be in the 7%," he argues.

"Uhh... I wouldn't be so sure. 7 has never been my lucky number anyway," you simply state, adding a nonchalant shrug at the end.

What you said is so out of pocket that it amuses him so much and he thinks that's why he likes you, you're unpredictable. In fact, you're the only unpredictable thing that he likes in his life.

"And maybe this will change your mind..." you say, untying your dress open and revealing enough to show the bra you're wearing underneath.

"How's that?" You adorably tilt your head to the side as you ask him.

Seungmin tries to remain calm even though he gets the urge to just rip your dress open and expose more of you to him. He looks away and stares at your face, but you're taking his hand and making him cupping your breast.

"I'm wearing it for you," you seductively say.

He's feeling the lacey fabric of your bra instead of kneading on your breast, "Yeah?"

"Uh-huh, and it comes with matching underwear too," you share, parting your dress open until it's completely off of you.

As of this moment, his self-control is being tested and he doesn't know how long until he folds. He holds his breath as his eyes travel down your body, quietly lusting at it.

You slowly bring your head close and sweetly peck his lips, "Do you like it?"

He rubs his hands up and down your sides, then looks up at you, "Yes."

"Yes, what?" You lean in closer until the tip of your nose bumps his cheek.

"I like it," he speaks so low it's almost like a whisper.

You smile at his answer and react more by pressing your lips on his lips. The more you kiss him, the more he doesn't want to let go, he just wants to keep kissing you until he runs all of the air in his body.

All of a sudden, you break the kiss with a gasp and slyly smile at him, "This is just one of my two-part plans," you tell him.

"What's the second part then?" He curiously asks with his fingertips lightly tracing your collarbone.

The sly grin on your face doesn't tell much but he knows it is something that will amuse him. You take his glasses on the coffee table and put them back on him.

"Keep your glasses on 'cause I want you to closely watch me take you in my mouth."

With his glasses on, Seungmin watches you take him into your mouth, how your luscious lips wrap around his length, and the way you swirl your slick, hot tongue around his tip. All the while, your hand takes care of the rest that you can't take into your mouth.

Don't get him started on the eyes you're giving him as half of his cock disappeared into your mouth, they're innocent and filthy at the same time, and he doesn't know how you do that but you're doing it so well.

He's sure that his hard cock shows how much he wants you and if not, well then, he just needs to take things further himself.

"Okay, fine, your two-part plan worked," he mutters with his hand tangled in your hair.

"I know," you cockily say to him.

He puts his other hand in your hair and then tilts your head to make you look at him, "Come sit on my lap!"

You obey him, pulling him out of your mouth and slowly, getting up from the carpeted floor. You take a step closer and he stops you right there.

"Just a second..." he says.

He looks up at you as you stand right in front of him, he trails his hands down the sides of your body and then tugs his fingers at the elastic band of your underwear. Without looking away from your eyes, he pulls it down your legs until it drops and pools around your ankle.

One corner of your mouth curls into a smirk as he puts his hand on the back of your knee and lifts it, resting your foot on his thigh. This position allows him to bring his mouth close to your heating core and a whimper falls out of your mouth the second his lips make contact with your tender flesh.

The glasses stay on because he knows how much you like seeing it turn foggy as he goes down on you. He doesn't need to look anyway to please you with his mouth.

He sticks his tongue out to tease your clit in a kitten lick before taking it whole in his mouth and sucking it real hard.

"Oh, baby..." you breathlessly moan as you tug at his hair in reaction to his stimulation.

Seungmin slowly lets go, he replaces his mouth with his hand, repeatedly running his fingers between your folds that your essence drenched all over them.

"Can't wait to be inside you," his voice hoarse and heavy with lust. He then retracts his hand, shoving his fingers coated with your essence, and licks them clean.

Seungmin scoots himself to the back of the sofa and then he holds his arms out at you to help you, but he lets his intrusive thoughts win, he pulls you hard until you fall on his lap.

You're giggling as you settle yourself on his lap and immediately put your hands around his shoulders, "eager, are we?"

He brings your head close for a kiss as you part his shirt open, and he briefly sits up straight so you can take it off of him. He wastes no time to put his arms around you after, drawing you close until there is no inch of gap left between your bodies.

To make it fair, he unclasps your bra and then pulls the straps down your shoulders, you do the rest by taking it off of you, letting it drop to the floor.

He likes how your breasts hang so beautifully on your chest and they look so soft, he can't help but feel them too. As he kneads on them, he can feel the ample flesh mold into his hands.

"Aren't they just perfect in your hands, mmh?" You murmur, kneading them together with his hands.

Yes, they do, he answers in his head and it makes him believe that your breasts were made just for him. He gently squeezes on them as he buries his head in between with his lips resting on your sternum.

You kiss the top of his head and cradle his head in your hands, your fingers lightly scratching the back of his head as you softly sigh, "My baby..."

Seungmin only knows how to dominate, always in control and being on top of the game but with you, he doesn't care about all that. With you, he just wants to be held and taken care of, and ultimately, loved.

Heaven really is a place on earth with you.

And he's about to enter real heaven when you slowly lower yourself on him. No rubber, no layer of protection just like you asked, it's just you and your warm velvety walls tightly wrapped around his length. Both of your lips instantly locked in a kiss again the moment he's fully buried inside you.

It's nothing like he imagined it would feel like, it's a thousand times better and when you start rocking your hips, Seungmin realizes that his self-control is going to be an issue.

As you keep pulsating your hips at a steady pace, you hold on to the back of the sofa for support and keep your face only inches away from his.

"Tell me, baby!" You murmur.

"Do I feel good, mmh?" You ask, then hastily kiss his open mouth.

You don't see him struggling, do you? Let alone able to compute words to answer your question but he hopes you can see how overwhelmed he is as you rock your hips back and forth.

"Cause you feel so good inside me, baby," you murmur into his ear.

"Oh, I can feel you all over me," you add with a hot kiss on his neck.

He roughly pulls your head close to press a kiss on your lips, grabbing a fistful of your hair in his hand as he keeps kissing you as a way to contain his grunts.

"You're close, mmh?" Your lips graze his as you speak.

There's no use to lie, he's inside you and you can feel him throbbing, wanting to shoot his load at any given time now.

"You're just too good," He simply admits, gliding his hands to your back and pulling you close.

"Are you going to cum for me then?"

"Yes," he shortly answers

"Inside me, yeah?"

He nods, pathetically.

Taking that as a confirmation, you pick up the pace, sending your breasts bouncing right in front of his face but his hands are too busy gripping each side of your waist, desperately trying to slow you down but failing.

"Mmh, yeah, cum for me, baby," you murmur before crashing your lips against him.

Surrendering himself to the need, Seungmin wraps his arms around you so tightly that your breasts are squashed between your chest. His eyes are screwed shut, his body is hot all over like someone kindle a fire inside him.

Despite his tight hold around you limiting your mobility, you maintain the pace, arching your back to provide more depth for him and add intensity to it.

"Cum, fill me, baby," you softly whisper with your lips brushing his jaw.

Seungmin is no longer in control of his body, his desire gets to him and takes him where he needs to be. The pleasure keeps on building up and up and he won't stop until he—

"Argh!" A raw groan spills out of his mouth, then he hurriedly plants his mouth on your shoulder to muffle it.

You finally slow down and hold him close, cradling his head in your chest as he relishes the waves of pleasure lapping over him.

As senses gradually come back to him, Seungmin tilts his head up and pulls you for a kiss, a kiss that feels tender and chaste, the kind that knocks your heart open.

"I love you," he blurts out.

"Oh?" You react with a perplexed gasp.

It surprises him too that he just blurted those words out, he didn't plan on saying it, heck! He didn't even think of saying it but now that the words are out, he knows that it's coming from deep within him.

"You didn't say that just because you're still inside me, right?" You playfully ask.

He innocently shakes his head but changes his mind in the next second, "Uhm... maybe? A part of it because of that," he jokingly says.

"I knew it!" You exclaim and squint your eyes at him.

He brings his hands to your shoulders and then cups your face in both hands, holding it with so much care as if you were a fragile object.

"I love you," he mutters with utmost sincerity and his heart hurts from saying those words out loud, in a good way.

"Me too," You smile and softly brush the hair curtaining his forehead, then place a soft kiss on it, "I love you."

His heart is full knowing that his feelings are being reciprocated and that makes him the happiest he's ever been, and the fact that it comes from something that is beyond him is what makes it special. He cups your jaw and kisses you so sweetly with a heart that loves you until it hurts so good.

"Seungmin," you softly call his name against his lips.

"Yes?"

"Can you put more love in me?"

"With pleasure," he gladly answers.

The music that faintly plays in the background is being replaced with the skin-slapping sounds and both of your breathy moans.

You're lying underneath him, hands gripping each side of the cushion your head resting on, eyes shut with a sheen of sweat coating your body.

"Oh, baby, yes," you moan through your gritted teeth.

Seungmin is using all of his strength, thrusting hard into you, and in each thrust, he tries to go as shallow as possible, hitting you right in the spot.

"Oh, please..." you cry and beg, sounding like you're in pain.

"Please, please, please," you beg again, but he knows that you're asking for more.

He's going impossibly fast that the sofa is creaking along to his movements but even if it breaks, he won't stop. He needs to give you your release and at the same time, he can't help himself but get the pleasure of giving it to you.

"Seungmin, please, please..." you beg again, your eyes closed so tightly that tears squeeze out of the corners of your eyes.

It's the way you're calling him so desperately and with so much neediness that drives him to keep going. He grips the handrest of the sofa as leverage and thrusts into you harder and harder that the muscles on his body are strained and his body is close to giving out.

"Seungmin, please..." you breathlessly moan again.

Yeah, that's right, he's the only one who can give it to you and he's going to give it to you just right.

A mix of a moan and a cry rips out of you as your body stiffens and then softens in the next second, overflowing with immense pleasure.

Seungmin slows his thrusting but adds intensity, he can feel it coming as well. With the way you're clenching around him, it doesn't take him long to finally cum for the second time.

He launches his cock as deep as possible to plant his seed inside you and lowers his mouth on yours to fill his need to be one with you.

It's the most intimate he's ever been with someone, it doesn't feel like physical fulfillment anymore, it's bonding, it's trust, and he believes it's what people call making love.

After a while, Seungmin lets go and slowly, pulls out of you. With your legs still spreading open, he can see how your cunt is drenched with your mixed bodily fluid and pulsating, and a while later, he can see the white of his seed dripping out of you and he can't believe how much he cum inside of you as it now drips onto the sofa. It's a highly erotic thing to watch and satisfies him in a whole new way.

"Are you sure you're not trying to put a baby in me 'cause that was..." you can barely finish your words. You brush away the hair stuck to your moist forehead and let out an exhausted sigh.

Seungmin quietly and triumphantly smiles, he hovers above you and places a long, lingering kiss on your lips. As soon as he breaks the kiss, he looks at you and says, "Well, 7 has never been my lucky number either."

-

Since his job requires him to work late almost every night, Seungmin only meets you on the weekends and he'll stay over, even if it means he has to go to work early on a Monday morning.

"Stay," you mumble with your eyes closed, not letting him stop cuddling you on the bed.

"You can sleep some more," he whispers into your ear, along with a soft kiss on your neck.

"No, stay," you mumble again, taking his arm and putting it around you.

It's always like this every Monday morning, you're not letting him go and he'll cave in, then he'll cuddle you for a few more minutes, peppering you with kisses before dragging himself out of the bed.

If he has to choose, he'd rather stay in bed with you all day but he has other responsibilities to do and it involves a lot of people, not just him.

When Seungmin returns from the shower, you're sitting on the bed with his glasses on, your eyes immediately traveling up and down his glistening wet body, but they focus on the towel that lowly hangs around his hips.

"Oh... mama!" You gasp in delight, your teeth faintly bite your lower lip.

Flustered, he hurriedly walks up to you and takes his glasses off of you, then puts them on him. He gives your cheek a soft caress and then kisses the top of your head.

"You should sleep some more," he suggests as he saunter to your closet where he keeps some of his clothes in there.

"Why would I do that when I can watch my hot, nerdy boyfriend getting dressed to save the nation's economy from collapsing?" You playfully remark, sitting on the bed while hugging your knees.

As he chooses what to wear for the day, he looks over his shoulder at you and asks, "Who's going to make coffee then?"

"Oh, yeah, right," you sigh and pout, "you only date me because of my coffee."

"That's right," he responds with a sly smile.

You get up from the bed and come up to him, slipping your arms under and around him for a hug. You place kisses on the skin on his chest, shoulder, and neck, and eventually, your lips find his.

"Wear the blue shirt," you suggest, pointing at the baby blue shirt inside the closet before turning around on your feet, and heading out of the room so he can get dressed.

The blue shirt surely looks good on him but he can't remember wearing it or bringing it to your place, also, it's a bit tight around the shoulders. He heads to the kitchen where you're busy making coffee for him.

"Are you sure this shirt is mine?" He asks in confusion.

"Of course, it's yours, you silly," you hastily answer and then put down the coffee pot to take a good look at him, "What's wrong?

Seungmin takes a seat on the stool that is pushed against the kitchen island, "It's a bit tight around the shoulders."

You deliver his cup of coffee and then run your hands through his shoulder blades, "That's because you have such sexy, broad shoulders," you whisper into his ear.

He turns his head to the side and you immediately capture his lips in a kiss. You break the kiss to place more kisses on his face and neck.

"Now, eat your breakfast, champion!" You order.

You stand there behind the kitchen island to watch him take his first sip of the coffee you make, and as expected, it's as good as the first time had a taste of it and it also brings back the memories of how he met you that night.

"How is it?"

"Perfect!" He answers with a smile.

It's never just a goodbye kiss with you, it's a full-on makeout with bodies pressed and pushed against the wall, its lips and tongue, and occasional bites in between.

Seungmin has to stop you from going in for another kiss as he still needs air to breathe. He holds you close but keeps his face a safe distance away from yours, his height helps with his.

"You have the night shift tonight," he says.

"Uh-huh."

"You better go get some sleep after this," he suggests.

"One more kiss then," you sweetly ask.

Seungmin has no power to resist you, especially when you look at him with crinkles in your eyes. It would make him a bad man if he said no to that.

"Just one," he makes a compromise.

"Just one, yes," you repeat with an eager nod.

He finds you so cute acting like a puppy like that, he has no other reason but to give you what you want. He slowly leans in and kisses you, ever so softly despite feeling like fireworks are going off inside his chest.

"I have to go," he says once he breaks the kiss.

You don't say anything but pout to him, clinging to him to let him know you don't want him to go.

"I'll see you soon, mmh?" He says with a smile and a long peck on the lips as a consolation.

That seems to cheer you up as a smile blooms on your face, you hug him close, embracing all of him before taking a step back so he can walk out of the door.

"Have a great day at work!" You say as you linger by the doorway and with a sweet smile, you let him go.

A couple of days later, Seungmin receives a call from you but it comes at a bad time, he's in a meeting and he ends up getting two missed calls from you.

You know better to not call him when he's working but it seems urgent so he goes to the office lounge to call you back.

"I'm late," you suddenly share right after you accept the call.

"Late?" He asks in confusion.

There is a pause and then you explain, "My period is late."

The moment you both decided to have unprotected sex, Seungmin prepared himself for a situation like this. He knows that other than he needs to take responsibility for it but checking in on your well-being comes on top of his priority.

"Are you okay?" He asks in slight concern.

"I'm okay," you answer.

"Do you want me to come and be with you?" He offers, even though he doubts he'll be able to do that but that's something he can deal with later.

"No, it's okay. I just..." you pause to inhale air, "I just think that you need to know."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'm about to take pregnancy tests," you inform.

"Okay, well, it's better if you take two tests just in case the result is inconclusive," he carefully suggests, keeping his voice low as he's still in his workplace.

"Yeah, okay," you take in his suggestion.

"Hey, it's going to be okay?" He assures you because he knows that's what you actually seek at this moment, an assurance that things are going to be alright no matter what.

"I know," you meekly say.

"I love you," he says because he has nothing else to show you how much he cares and loves you, and he can hear you smiling at the end of the line.

"I love you too," you say with a slight cheery tone.

The two of you let those words hang in the air and let that be the only thing that exists in this dire moment.

After a moment, you sigh into the phone and say, "Well, I'm going to pee on these pregnancy tests and will tell you about the results."

"I'll look forward to it," he playfully responds.

It's normal for him to feel nervous about the results but surprisingly, he doesn't feel scared at all. If anything, it makes him start thinking about his future with you, and if you turned out to be pregnant then it simply means he'd have another part of you that he can love.

That's all he can think about at work, not numbers or statistics, but how wonderful it would be to build a family with you.

As he's deep in his thoughts, his phone vibrates on his desk. He turns it over to check and fumbles on his seat when he notices that it's multiple new texts from you.

"Guess what?" You wrote on the first text, and below it a picture of the pregnancy tests and both showing negative results.

"Told you, seven has never been my lucky number," you wrote in the following text with a smiling emoji.

It's a good thing that you don't call or you would hear the slight disappointment in his voice, but at the same time, he feels a sort of relief. Well, this only means that Seungmin only needs to postpone his plan on building a family with you.

"That damn seven percent," he jokingly wrote in his reply to you.

As a sort of joke, Seungmin decided to get off work early, and bought flowers along with a card he personally wrote on it that says, "Congratulations on being in the 93%!"

He knows you're having night shift for the whole week so the plan is to catch you right on the closing time and surprise you with the flowers.

Seungmin is not big on grand, romantic gestures like this but it shouldn't be something he should be ashamed of doing. It's all about the intention and he believes that the thing earlier was quite a shock to you so his intention is purely to brighten up your day and hopefully, make you feel better.

The taxi pulls up at the side of the street across the cafe, he can see that he comes right on time as you're locking up the place. He has to walk a little further to the crosswalk while carrying the flowers in one hand. He's watching as you lock up the café and pulling at the door to make sure it's completely locked.

As you hoist the strap of your bag higher on your shoulder, you turn around on your feet and Seungmin hurriedly waves his hand your way even though it's doubtful that you'll see him.

However, your face lights up like you usually do whenever you see him, your eyes sparkle, and a radiant smile. His heart is pounding as he starts to eagerly wave his hand at you only to find out that you're looking at someone else.

A guy comes out of the car parked right outside the café and you walk up to him, not stopping him as he hugs you. It's not just a friendly hug, the guy holds you close and lifts you off the ground for a moment, sending you giggling with your head bumping close to him.

Seungmin unconsciously follows the crowd crossing the street and when he finally gets to the side of the street, he sees that the two of you are kissing, lips locked with arms around each other.

He takes slow, hesitant steps toward you to see if it's really you and you're aware that you're kissing someone that is not him. He stops on his track as the guy spins you to the side and you open your eyes to see him standing there.

In that moment, your eyes meet and the expression on your face significantly turns into a panic one. From the look of it, it finally registered to him that you're fully aware of what you're doing.

"What is this?" He asks in utter confusion at you.

You immediately push the guy you've just kissed to approach him, "Seungmin, I can explain!" You say.

There's nothing to explain when he saw everything with his own eyes, unless you think he's blind or losing his mind, that's the only explanation he needed.

You walk toward him in such caution like approaching a wild animal, "Seungmin, please, wait, I can—"

But he's no longer looking at you, he's looking at the other guy and how flippant he is at this whole situation. He's mad beyond belief and before he obliterates everything around him, he turns around on his feet to leave.

"Seungmin!" You call his name out loud and he can hear you break into tears after.

"Fuck this," He mutters out of spite, tossing the flowers into the trash bin. He ignores your desperate calls and keeps walking away, not looking back.

-

Men lie, women lie, and numbers, after all, can be manipulated which makes it a lie. In other words, everything is a lie.

Even Seungmin is lying to himself, he pretends that he's alright even though the truth is he's far from alright. He can't believe that a week ago he thought of building a family with someone he's only known for six months, six fucking months and you turned out to be cheating on him.

The only thing that he believes in is this anger he feels whenever he thinks of you and it's more infuriating that he can't find the outlet for it. It seems like he has to keep it in until he dies.

His phone vibrates on his desk and he hates that his heart gets hopeful, thinking that it's a text from you when the truth is you stopped contacting him two days ago and he knows it's because he didn't respond to any of them, but deep down, he hopes it's you.

Full of anticipation, he checks his phone and sees that he has received a series of texts from an unknown number. It's probably work-related texts so he ignores it for a while until the curiosity wins over him.

"So, you're the other boyfriend," is what is written in the text.

"Who is this?" He quickly replies.

"It's Minho. The boyfriend," he writes along with multiple pictures of you and him.

If his goal is to make him jealous, he's succeeded at that and now that the goal is achieved, what else there is?

"What do you want?" Seungmin gets defensive.

"Does this mean you give her up, huh?"

It's not giving you up when he decides to break up with you after finding out that you cheated on him. Before Seungmin can compose a reply to that, a new text appears.

"I'm the better man anyway," Minho writes and he knows he does it to provoke him.

What a shame that Seungmin is not triggered and decides not to stoop to his level. Minho is free to think that he gives you up or he's a better man than him, Seungmin doesn't care at all!

However, his ignorance only lasts for a couple of days until Minho comes up with a text that has one clear purpose and that is to light Seungmin's short fuse.

"Come and watch me fuck her better than you did?" Minho wrote on the text along with a video of you, lying naked on the bed with his hand going all over you.

As if that isn't enough, Minho sends another video and Seungmin knows better not to open it but he does anyway. The next video is of him filming himself fucking you through the mirror that he knows for sure is in your bedroom and he can hear your moans in the background.

"Did you say something?" Minho asks as he turns the camera to you.

"Please!" You say.

"Please, what?"

"Please, Minho, I want to cum," you plead with your eyes red and teary.

With the rage that blinds him and jealousy that burns him from the inside, Seungmin rides in the back of the taxi in the middle of the night with both hands balled into fists on his lap and his chest heaving in anger on the way to your place.

He skips on the knocking on the door and punches the passcode into your place, letting himself in. A while later, you come to the door, looking unruly but fully dressed, it looks like he's just disturbed your slumber instead of catching you sleeping with another guy.

"Seungmin," you say his name in a mix of confusion and surprise.

Seungmin would be lying if he didn't miss hearing you call his name but he reminds himself he's not here for that, he came here for something else.

"Where is he?" He asks as he walks past you. He starts looking for him in every room in your apartment while you're trailing behind him.

"Who?" You ask in utter confusion.

"Your boyfriend," he simply answers, pushing the door to your bedroom and seeing that no one is on the bed except for a messy pile of duvet.

"He's not here and I haven't seen him in a week," you tell him.

He avoids looking into your eyes and walks up to the bathroom, pushing the door open with his hand only to reveal that you're telling the truth.

"Why? Isn't he your boyfriend? Shouldn't you with him?" He asks you, going out of the bedroom to check the laundry room near the kitchen.

"Because I needed the space. I got heartbroken when you broke up with me," you meekly answer.

Maybe he was foolish for not knowing you lied behind his back but how dare you lie right to his face now? Seungmin stops looking and turns around to look at you, he scoffs in exaggeration.

"Don't lie to me," he says to you with a sarcastic smile.

"I'm not. I am still devastated that we broke up," you genuinely admit with tears pooling in your eyes.

Hearing someone enter the passcode to your door, you hurriedly wipe your eyes before the tears roll down your cheeks and head to the door to check who is it.

"Minho, what are you—" You can't barely finish your sentence as he presses a kiss on your lips.

"Minho, this is not a good time," you say to him, but he walks further inside while holding your hand.

Without having to look, Seungmin knows that it's the man he's looking for and he realizes Minho was never here, he sent all those videos just to trap him and he fell right into it.

"You came, huh?" Minho says to him with a faint smirk on his face.

That is enough to trigger Seungmin, he takes a step forward and closes the gap between their bodies, "What's your problem?"

You immediately get in between and push them away from each other until there's a safe distance between them, "Minho, please, don't!"

"I don't know why I'm here," Seungmin mutters, pushing his way in the direction of the door.

You block the way and take both of his hands, "No, Seungmin, please, stay!" You beg with pleading eyes.

"Nah, babe, just let him go!" Minho says with a rather mocking tone at Seungmin while leaning the side of his body against the wall.

"You both stay!" You tell both of them, dragging Seungmin back inside and making him sit on the sofa. You glare at Minho next, gesturing him to also sit on the sofa, and with a sigh, he obeys to your order.

They're sitting so far apart from each other and you know Minho is the one who made Seungmin come here, but the damage has been done, you may as well use this opportunity to talk to both of them.

"Now that you're both here, let me explain everything," you say, standing right in front of them.

"I don't need your explanation," Seungmin says without looking at you.

"Seungmin, please!" You beg again.

"The door is right there!" Minho casually says to him.

You know Minho is going to be the problem so you glare at him, "Minho, please?" You say in a rather threatening tone instead of pleading.

"I'm not going to stop you from leaving but please hear me first," you try again while clasping your hands together in front of you.

Seungmin refuses to look at you but he stays in his seat and that's enough, he only needs to hear your part of the story anyway.

"Yes, I'm dating the two of you at the same time," you admit right away and that seems to intrigue Seungmin that he glances your way.

"But I wouldn't call it cheating," you continue and Seungmin looks away again, "Even if that's the case, it only means that I'm cheating on Minho with you."

"What do you mean by that? You're dating him behind my back," Seungmin says with a lot of resentment in his voice.

"Minho knows everything," you reveal, "We've been dating for three years way before I met you."

"Yes, and she told me everything," Minho adds with a wicked smile on his face.

It feels as if the two of you are playing him and he feels stupid for being the joke in this narrative. Seungmin looks at you and then at Minho with a revolted look on his face, "What is this sick game are you playing here?"

You take a step closer to him and slightly bend down to make him look at you, "Seungmin, I swear this is not a game. Our relationship is real and so is my relationship with Minho, we're—"

This is where Seungmin loses it. He's not familiar with this equation. You're dating him but also dating Minho. How can one person date two people at once? And is that even possible? Since when 1+1+1 is two? His brain just can't comprehend it.

"You cheated on me," he says and that's the only statement he firmly stands on, he doesn't care who dates who first and how many relationships you have other than with him.

You take a moment to inhale air and try again, "Seungmin, trust me when I say I never lied to you. I love you and you know that's true," you calmly tell him.

"But you did lie to me about your relationship with him," Seungmin

"Because I don't want to lose you," you hastily respond with the harsh truth.

A moment passes in silence as Seungmin processes your words and you're right, he would have left you a long time ago and the relationship wouldn't last this long.

"I know this is hard to understand but I love you, Seungmin, and I love him too," you say as you point at Minho.

You rake your hair to the back and come up to them, kneeling in front of them as you grab their hands in each of your hands.

"And I know how selfish and greedy I sound but I want you both in my life," you finish with a sad smile.

Minho brings your hand close to his mouth and kisses it, "You know you'll always have me," he says.

You softly smile at him, "Thank you, Minho."

The ball is in Seungmin's court now and you look at him with hopeful eyes, even though the chance that he'll agree to this is slim, close to zero percent.

"Seungmin..." your voice lowers as a second passes without an answer from him.

All of a sudden, he takes his hand away from your hold and in that moment, you tell yourself that, at least, you've tried your best to make him stay and if he still chooses to go, then you have to let him go.

Seungmin's hand cups your cheek and he tilts your head, forcing you to look at him. To your surprise, he smiles and then slowly presses a kiss on your lips.

"You know that I love you too."

-

Since they're all and they both agreed on being in this relationship, you figure this is the chance to put it to a test and see if they can learn how to share.

Minho places a kiss on your shoulder as his hands busy unclasping your bra, he places another kiss on your neck and turns your head to the side so he can kiss your lips.

"It's off," he mutters as the bra is completely off your arms.

You peck his lips and smile, "Thank you, baby."

Minho has no problem adjusting himself to this but Seungmin looks a little lost that you have to keep him close and at times, you have to actively tell him what to do.

As you sit on the edge of the bed, you take his hands and pull him close. Giving him a long peck on the lips before asking him, "Are you nervous?"

"I'm not nervous," Seungmin puts his hands on each side of your waist and places a peck on your lips, "I just wish he's not here."

You chuckle at that and put your hands on his square shoulders, "at first, I thought Minho would be the one having problems sharing," you poke fun at him.

"I can share," he hastily responds, he quietly clocking Minho who's getting undressed in one corner of the bedroom, "Just not with him."

"Can you please try? For me?" You sweetly plead, along with multiple kisses planted on his lips, "Mmh?"

Seungmin knows that he has no other option but to share you, he accepts it with a sigh, "Okay."

"Thank you, baby," you softly mutter, bringing his head close so you can kiss him hard and deep.

The kiss lasts for a few minutes and you eventually break the kiss, gasping for air the second your lips detached. You get on all fours on the bed and take his cock in your hand, slowly stroking it before taking it into your mouth.

You maintain eye contact with Seungmin as your mouth is full of him, alternating between sucking and licking, combining it with your hand pumping the base of his cock.

Seungmin gathers all of your hair to the back and forms a makeshift ponytail with his hand to keep all of your hair away so he can see his cock slipping in and out of you.

Behind you, you feel Minho's hand on the arch of your back and it's gliding down to the curve of your rear, he doesn't hesitate to knead the flesh until it molds into his hand.

Next, he replaces his hand with his mouth, sucking on the ample flesh of your ass cheek hard enough that you believe it would leave a mark.

Your focus starts to shatter as Minho plants his mouth on your heating core, he keeps your ass cheeks parted open so he can plant his mouth deeper in your wetness.

His slick tongue teases your entrance and at the same time, his hand snakes its way to the front to play with your clit, pinching for added stimulations.

You're moaning with Seungmin's cock in your mouth and somehow, the vibration adds pleasure to him as he hand tugs harder at your hair.

It goes on for long until you deem it's enough or else you'll get too overwhelmed to continue. You slowly pull Seungmin's cock out of your mouth, ignoring how your saliva coated his length and dribbling down your mouth. Minho catches you from the back, holding you as you sit on the bed and spread your legs open for Seungmin.

"Go ahead. You can have the first turn," Minho says to Seungmin, always in a tone that borderline mocking him.

You land a hard slap on Minho's arm, "Be good!" You warn him.

"Sorry, honey," Minho apologizes to you along with a kiss instead at him.

However, Seungmin does a good job of pretending like Minho wasn't there, he crawls over to you to place a kiss on your lips before settling himself between your legs. He rubs his fingers between your folds, softly as if he's touching flowers.

He's going to keep pretending like Minho wasn't there and fully enjoying this moment. It's not hard when your body always entices him, endlessly arousing him and inviting him to touch.

With another kiss on your lips, Seungmin slowly pushes inside. He pulls out only to push deeper into you and do it a few times more until he's fully sheathed in your tight walls.

"Mmh, yeah..." you moan with eyes closed, "So good inside me."

He lets himself explore your body with his hands then with his lips next, marking your skin with searing kisses to finally start thrusting into you.

Minho slowly lays you down but keeps his eyes and hands on you, touching you and cupping your breasts as they're jiggling along to Seungmin's slow yet steady thrusts.

He stands on the side of the bed facing you, pumping his cock as he's watching you being fucked by Seungmin, and eventually, brings his eyes back to you.

Using the tip of his cock, he rubs your erect nipples, wetting them with his precum and making you squeeze his cock between your breasts.

"Oh..." you loudly moan, taking every stimulation on every inch of your body from the two men.

The wild glints in his eyes scare you and excite you at once. You're tilting your head his way with your mouth wide open.

"You want it in your mouth?" He says as he pumps his cock so close to your face.

You bite your lips, nodding.

Instead of giving you what you want, he shoves his thumb into your mouth and watches as you suck hard on it before finally putting his cock into your mouth. He grabs the hair on the back of your head, keeping your head still as he drags his cock in and out of your mouth.

"You like that, huh?" Minho says as he looks down at you.

"You like having your greedy holes filled, huh?" He pulls out of you to give you a chance to answer.

"Yeah," you breathlessly answer with your lips wet with saliva.

"You hear that? She likes her greedy holes filled!" Minho says to Seungmin with a wicked grin plastered on his face.

Seungmin is too high on pleasure to care, having sex without protection is still new to him and he still needs a few practices to finally have some self-control doing it.

With your mouth full of Minho, your noises can no longer be his guide on pleasing you but he can tell from the way you're tightening around him. He needs a release as much as you do but he holds it in until he knows for sure you have climaxed.

Minho probably senses that you're so close, that he pulls out of you and offers his hands for you to hold on to. Your chest is heaving and moans are spilling out of your mouth.

"Seungmin, oh, please!"

There you go with your begging and pleading, and it's amazing that it still works on him, hearing you calling his name in such neediness gets him off.

When you finally reach your high, you pull your knees up as high as you can which provides him more depth and tightness that gets him closer to his release.

A few more thrusts are all it takes for Seungmin to reach his high. He keeps his cock deep inside you as he releases all of his seed. His hands are pressing on the back of your thighs with nails dug into the flesh.

Still gathering his senses, Seungmin searches for your lips and when they finally meet yours, he kisses you so hard that he runs out of the air in his lungs.

"So good, baby, that was so good," you mutter to him with half-shut eyes.

Seungmin climbs onto the bed, his back resting against the headboard while you're lying on your stomach in between his legs. You're both riding down your highs with some kisses and cuddles until Minho seeks your attention.

He pulls you by the waist, taking you away as you're about to lean in to kiss Seungmin. You laugh at his childish behavior and look over your shoulder at him.

"I'm not going anywhere," you jokingly mutter at him.

Minho holds you close and lets Seungmin watch as he runs his hands all over you as if he is trying to show him how to properly touch you.

He makes a trail of kisses from your neck and then down your spine, forcing you to bend down on the bed on all fours for him.

"Ouw!" You yelp as he lands a slap on your ass cheek.

Seungmin reflexively holds you by the shoulders, thinking it is something that he's doing that hurts you.

Minho lands another slap on the other cheek harder than the sound echoing in the room and sends you launching to the front.

"Fuck, your other boyfriend cum a lot," Minho complains with his fingers lightly circling your clit.

You shake your head at Seungmin, gesturing him not to take his bait, and bring your mouth to his ear to whisper, "I like it when you cum a lot inside me."

Seungmin holds the side of your head and kisses you, but Minho slaps your asscheek again to get your attention back to him.

"Let's hope he left some room for me to fill," Minho says, putting two digits into your gushing hole to prepare you for his cock.

"Don't be so dramatic, Minho," you poke fun at him.

He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you hard until your back hits his chest. He buries his head in your neck, placing ticklish kisses down the column on your neck while his hands are fondling your breasts.

"It's your turn to not be dramatic," he mutters into your ear as he aligns his cock to your entrance.

"How can I not be?" You say to him.

Without warning, he enters you, pushing his swollen member in little by little. His hands gripping your hips to keep you still as he keeps pushing in until he's fully buried inside you.

"Honey, oh..." you moan as you grope for his head, turning it to the side so you can kiss him.

"I know," he seductively murmurs into your ear, "You feel so good around me too."

As Minho starts thrusting into you, you get back on your fours again and share some of your attention with Seungmin. You crash your lips against him and take his hand, making him cupping your breast.

He affectionately brushes your hair to the side and holds it there before leaning in for a kiss again, kissing your parted mouth as you moan from Minho's thrusts.

"I'm cumming, oh, I'm cumming," you whine as your fingers claw at Seungmin's chest.

Minho keeps chasing his high and riding past your orgasm, sending you into overdrive. Your eyes are fluttering shut from the immense pleasure but Seungmin holds you steady and tirelessly placing kisses on the skin he can land his lips on.

"Just a little bit more," Minho says through his gritted teeth while keeping the motion of his hips going.

You're fisting the sheet underneath you and eventually collapse onto Seungmin's chest and letting him hold you as Minho finishes inside of you.

Minho lowers his body on you, planting kisses on your back and your neck, he then buries his head in your neck as the three of you snuggle on the bed, exhausted yet content with pleasure.

With your eyes barely open, you reach for Seungmin's jaw and kiss him, then turn your head to the side to capture Minho's lips in a kiss afterward.

And you think, it wasn't bad at all for a first practice.

-

The bed shifts as Minho props his elbow against the mattress, you're holding his arm close to your chest so he plants a long kiss on your shoulder before slowly, taking his hand away from around you.

He checks his phone for the time and he kind of already guessed that he should get ready for the day, he has a plane to catch.

He quietly makes his way to the bathroom to wash up and quietly gets dressed in the dark of the room, not wanting to wake the others sleeping in the room.

He helps himself for a quick breakfast in your kitchen, opening the fridge to get a carton of milk and it almost startles him to see Seungmin standing by the doorway of your room with his hair sticking up and his glasses perching slightly askew on his nose.

"Man, you look really good in the morning," he sarcastically says as he takes a box of cereal from the top cabinet.

Seungmin brushes his hair to the back and fixes his glasses, traipsing his way to one of the stools pushed against the kitchen island.

"I believe we have to talk," he says to him in his morning, deep voice.

Minho gathers a bowl and a spoon on the kitchen island. He repeatedly nods as he pours cereal into the bowl first and then pours the milk after.

"That's actually great because you haven't heard my part of the story yet," Minho finally responds to Seungmin.

He takes a spoonful of cereal and shoves it into his mouth, making Seungmin wait as he chews and swallows his food to speak again.

"I'm away a lot for work. I hate to see her feeling lonely and sad. I don't want to break up with her and so is she. I was the one who came up with the idea," he explains, taking another spoonful of cereal and making Seungmin wait again, "I told her to find another boyfriend."

Minho then rests his hands on the counter and leans forward, taking a moment to gather his thoughts in the silence that hangs in the room.

"When she told me about you, I was scared because I kind of set her up for heartbreak by coming up with that idea but she stopped feeling lonely and sad. I can also see that she's... happier," he shares, digging his spoon into the bowl, and with a sad chuckle he continues talking, "I even started to think that maybe she doesn't love me anymore."

It only occurs to Seungmin now that Minho did all that not for himself, he wouldn't bother texting him and sending him all those videos if his intention was only to provoke him. He did all that to force him to come and meet you, he did all that for you which makes Seungmin the bigger asshole in this.

Minho drinks the milk straight out of the bowl and then roughly wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, "What I'm saying is... I just want her to be happy. That's all," he finishes.

This concept of relationship is so new and foreign to Seungmin that at first, he finds it hard to make it make sense but after hearing both sides of the story, it isn't as complicated as he initially thought. After all, a relationship is a state of being connected whether it's people or objects or even concepts.

But it's nice to hear that despite his snarky remarks and flippant attitude, Minho is not afraid to be transparent about his feelings and thoughts, and Seungmin respects him for that.

On the other hand, it convinces Seungmin that this relationship would work because the three individuals are mature and have no intention of hiding things from each other anymore.

"I just want her to be happy too even if it means I have to endure your... attitude," Seungmin enunciates the last word with a sneer.

Minho scoffs and chuckles at that, finishing the bowl of cereal by draining the milk to its last drop.

"So how are we going to do this?" Seungmin asks in genuine curiosity.

"Well... we'll arrange something," Minho vaguely says, putting the dirty dishes down in the sink.

Minho returns to the bedroom to retrieve his jacket, he's sitting on the edge of the bed and places his hand on your shoulder, trying to wake you up with a gentle kiss on your lips and continues placing kisses all over your face until you steer in your sleep.

"Hey, I have to go," He softly mutters with a tender caress on your cheek.

You rub your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose, "Already?" You ask with a sleepy tone.

"My flight is in three hours," he informs while putting away the hairs from covering your face.

You pout and hum in complaint, stretching your arms out before putting them around his shoulders, pulling him close until he collapses on top of you.

"When will you come back?"

"Next Friday," he answers.

"Mmh, okay," you mumble, holding his face inches away from yours and giving him a long peck on the lips.

To give him a proper goodbye, you get up and put on any piece of clothing lying next to you. You walk Minho to the door for another hug and kiss while Seungmin sits in the kitchen, giving this moment just for the two of you.

"Stay safe. Take care," you tell him as you cling to his body.

Minho places ticklish kisses on your neck, sending you giggling as he holds you tightly. He eventually stops to press a long, lingering kiss on your lips.

"I'm going, okay?"

You nod and fondly gaze at him, "I love you."

He smiles at that and plants another lingering kiss on you, "I love you."

It's not the first time that he's leaving you to go away for work, but somehow, this time feels different, he feels a little relieved that he has someone he can trust to keep you safe.

"I'll be back soon," Minho mutters with a chaste kiss on your forehead.

You're lingering by the doorway, watching him leave until he goes inside the elevator and then go back inside. You're aware that Seungmin is there and you've been neglecting him the whole time you're saying goodbye to Minho.

You smile as you walk into the kitchen and see him still sitting there against the kitchen island, "I'll make us coffee," you announce.

"Okay," Seungmin shortly says with a soft smile.

You start by filling the pot with water and putting it on the stove, and as you wait for it to boil, you scoop some coffee beans to grind.

All of a sudden, you feel a pair of arms wrapped around you and you don't have to look to know it's Seungmin.

"Does it make you happy?" He asks out of the blue.

"What? Making coffee for you?" You jokingly ask even though you know the context of that question.

You put down whatever you're holding and turn around on your feet to face him, resting your hands on his chest as you look up at him and say, "I'm happy."

"Then I'm happy," he says with a smile, leaning in to softly kiss your lips.

The kiss brings back so many things, both the good and bad things you've shared, but ultimately him. The break-up was the worst part of it but now that he's back with you, you feel happier than ever.

"I love you, Seungmin," you tell him, sliding your hand up to his neck and holding him there, "I'll never let you break up with me again."

He puts his arms around and draws you closer, "I won't."

"Good, 'cause I don't know what a menacing man like Minho would do to you if that happened," you jokingly say.

In the end, Seungmin doesn't need numbers or data or statistics, he only needs to learn from his mistakes and as much as he hates his guts, he also needs to learn a few things from Minho and one of them is being a good boyfriend to you.

The white curls of steam escape the cup of coffee as you serve it on the table in front of him, the strong smell of it awakens all of his senses.

"Thank you," he mutters his gratitude with a smile that makes his eyes smaller and offers warmth.

You watch as he takes a careful sip at it with a hand propped under your chin, "How is it?"

He puts down his cup of coffee and smiles at you, "It's perfect."

As of this moment, Seungmin will only look at you as someone he loves and wishes to always be happy, and he'll think of himself not merely as a part of the equation but as what completes the equation.

-

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[midnight-bay-if]

(Sorry if I sent this ask twice I wasn’t sure if I sent it in or not and if I did I’m currently gaslighting myself that I didn’t lol)

Anyways!

How would the ROs react (both crushing and dating) to a MC looking bittersweetly at someone else getting flowers. And when they ask what’s wrong, MC says that no one has ever gotten them flowers before.

(It's okay, anon. You did already send it in, but I don't mind :) Also, I know you said both crushing and dating stages, but I chose which stage would be most interesting for each RO. Hope this is okay!)

S (crushing): Their tongue is running away from their head--sometimes, after a chaotic morning of wrangling Taj and Rain, they need to vent, and you have always been a sympathetic ear. "Taj has an unfortunate tendency to pester Rain after being forced out of bed--" They stop, recognising your attention has deviated, no longer nodding along with them. They follow your eyes to a nearby couple exchanging flowers with bright expressions.

"They are pretty," Selby probes gently.

"Nobody has ever bought me flowers before."

Well, that certainly will not do. "Excuse me a moment."

You watch as they turn on their heel and jog toward the flower shop the couple just exited. Your eyes widen when they return with the largest bouquet of deep red roses you have ever seen. "Forgive my tardiness," they say, bending forward in a bow as they hand them to you. "I hope you do not consider this too presumptuous, but you have only expedited my plans, not defined them; I will surprise you with the next."

Rain (crushing): You whispered the confession after a long night of binge-watching old soap operas together on the couch. A man courting his neighbour knocks on her door with flowers bought from the local corner shop. You sigh wistfully, bemoaning the lack of flowers in your own life. Rain's heart thuds and they realise this is something they wish to rectify. But here, it is viewed as a largely romantic gesture... would you even want to receive flowers from them?

The next day, Rain waits for you to return to your apartment with bated breath. After spending the day wandering the town for the most beautiful wildflowers, they came home and began to weave. As you open the door, they hold up a carefully crafted flower crown with flowers of your favourite colours.

"I-I know it's not the same, but... I hope you like it."

Taj (dating): Taj scoffs as you pass the sickly, sweet couple; their nose twinges when the pollen from the flowers they exchange crawls up them, the scent enough to make them cringe. They turn to you, ready with a harsh word to ridicule them, when they catch you glancing forlornly back at them as you pass.

"What's wrong with you?" They ask testily.

"Oh, nothing; nobody has bought me flowers before."

Taj scowls. Their instinct is to ask why you would care; flowers die quickly when cut. Any manipulator could walk into a gas station, pick up a cheap bouquet of flowers, and be in their lover's good books for a week. But, for once, they keep their mouth closed. Even if it's not something they understand, your face tells them it would make you happy.

But rather than waste their money on dying flowers, they think of the next best thing. For two nights straight, they stay up, folding coloured pieces of card, book open in their lap as they create the perfect undying bouquet. They slice their finger more than once, cussing out the air as they perfectly align their origami flowers.

When you come home, they present your paper flowers, cheeks burning, and fingers covered in plasters. "I will never fold another piece of paper again."

N (dating): N used to scoff at the demons that made such obvious romantic overtures with their victims. That's what they were, after all. Victims. There's absolutely no way these demons felt genuine affection for these people. Their grand gestures were simply traps to ensure the continued cooperation of the human. Demons were incapable of love.

Which does nothing to explain their continued loitering in your life. Their reason for finding you ceased to be an issue quite some time ago. Sure, perhaps your mental entanglements have them on a leash somewhat, but they would be lying if they said it is impossible to snap such a tether. They could seek a way if they wished.

When you so longingly stare at a couple exchanging flowers with obvious envy... It doesn't displease them to think you may share such a glance with them.

N thinks on all the grand gestures they have witnessed in their time, and as usual, they do not wish to settle for second best.

You return to your apartment after a few hours away, a strong floral scent hitting you as soon as you open the door. The floor is lit up with a line of candles, deep red petals scattered between them. You follow the trail across your apartment to your bedroom door. You push it ajar, light spilling in, the scent growing stronger. N lounges on your bed, a rose pinched between their forefinger and thumb, large rose bushes of every colour filling the room.

"I hope these are to your liking, my dear."

Umbra (crushing): Umbra prefers walking when the sky is grey. The overcast weather may accentuate their pale skin, but they always feel it suits them more. Nothing could detract from your shine, but their shadows are vast and looming... the larger your light, the greater the shadow they cast. So, they were grateful you suggested window shopping while the weather was dull.

A moment for you and them.

You pass a flower shop, your eyes drawn to its interior as if magnetised. A couple exits as you step up to the glass. A woman stares down happily at the bouquet in her hands, and Umbra thinks their heart might be harder if it were capable. They turn to you, hoping to share in the blissful moment, but your eyes appear sad.

"What's wrong?"

"Nobody has given me flowers before."

Umbra gasps, and their brow furrows. This is not okay. This needs to be fixed.

Without hesitation, Umbra turns on their heel and storms towards the couple, manoeuvres in front of them and snatches the flowers out of the woman's hand. Then, without a word, runs towards you, waving the bouquet in the air with a massive grin.

"MC! I got you flowers!"

(I'm not gonna lie... I cracked myself up with this one.)

[otsalezu]

College Cat AU Sneak Peak

This is just chapter one! These chapters are gonna be shorter than the Crashing Down ones, as this is mostly a fun side fic based off of @dark-lord-of-awesomeness Cat Stan AU! Okay chapter below the cut cuz its pretty long

Fiddleford Hadron McGucket, who was raised a proper Christian boy, knew all sorts of things about demons. He grew up hearing stories and urban legends about them and being taught to never trust anything that seemed like one. He wasn’t, however, told that they would come in the form of his college campus’ honorary mascot.

It had all started during the first few weeks of his and Ford’s second year at Backupsmore. Fiddleford had been heading towards his engineering class when, with a start, he realized he’d forgotten his thermos of coffee. He’d cursed a bit, checking his watch and deciding that it was worth the risk of being a little late. The professor, a fellow Southerner with a similar passion for the subject, loved him enough to excuse the odd tardiness. He hadn’t thought much of the rustling that came from the dorm, thinking that Ford had simply also forgotten something. When he neared the door, he’d thought his first prediction was correct. The man going through his desk had Ford’s face and curls. However, that was where the resemblance ended. Stubble lined his worn face, and glasses didn’t rest upon his crooked and obviously previously broken nose. His hair was long and matted, splayed around his shoulders in a greasy mullet. The clothes that hung off of him were too casual and threadbare to be from Ford’s closet. And the final discovery, the one that hammered home the wrongness for Fiddleford, were the man’s hands. Five fingers each, he noted with horror, as the man picked up his driver’s license and snorted.

“Heh. Diddlefuck Hard-on McSuckit.”

Despite the situation, Fiddleford made an offended noise. Jokes about his name were nothing new, but hearing a stranger who’d broken into his dorm make them must have been the final straw. The figure turned towards him, cursed loudly, and then…disappeared? No, he hadn’t disappeared. He’d simply changed. Where the man had once stood was now Nikola, the campus cat. In its mouth was the driver’s license, which dropped to the floor as the cat made a run for the door. Fiddleford quickly scooped him up, before remembering the situation and dropping him again like a hot coal.

“You! Just what in the hell are you?!”

“It’s a cat, F. Are you feeling alright?”

Ford pushed past him, and the cat quickly escaped as he did. The two men were left alone in the room to survey the mess on the desk.

“Moses, did a bomb go off in here?”

“I–the cat–you were–”

“Really? The cat? You’re telling me Nikola opened these drawers and took out all the papers?”

“He was a man!”

Ford gave him a cautious side-eye,

“Are you…?”

“God dammit Ford, I’m not high!”

“...Whatever you say. Don’t you have a class?”

“Don’t you?”

“The professor was sick, and I heard yelling. Which was apparently you terrorizing Nikola. What’s your excuse?”

“I’m…”

Fiddleford rubbed his head. Had he really just hallucinated the whole thing? The mess on the desk could have been a prank, and sleep had been scarce lately. It was more likely he was seeing things than the campus cat being a shapeshifting Ford look-alike.

“I’m not feelin’ too good.”

“Clearly. Do you need anything?”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Probably just a migraine.”

“Alright. I’m headed off to the library.”

And that had been the end of that, or so he’d thought. Seeing “Nikola” around campus—especially their dorm—became a common occurrence for him. Going through their things, eating unattended leftovers in the cafeteria, lurking around the local cafes. The man would grin at him and wave, before being replaced by that familiar shaggy brown cat. This was frustrating enough. He was never able to get a camera out fast enough to take a picture, and the man always seemed to stay far from Ford. In human form, that was. Ford adored the hellspawn in cat form, often letting the cat sit on his shoulders or lap during study sessions. Sure, Nikola may have been the campus cat, but most people thought he belonged to Ford. It was a fair assumption, the way the cat always made a beeline for him.

Now, about four months into the year, Fiddleford was running out of ideas. Nikola and Ford seemed to only get more fond of each other, which was making Fiddleford’s job of subtly protecting Ford from the demon harder than ever. He’d started by keeping around a rosary…which disappeared from his nightstand the next day and appeared around the neck of the man. He’d laughed—laughed!—and mouthed a smug “thanks”, before turning back into the cat. He doubted he’d be able to catch the cat for an exorcism, not that he wanted to touch it at all. Any indication he gave to Ford that the cat may be dangerous was met with incredulity and a lighthearted jab about the first day Fiddleford had seen it shift. He was really, truly, at the end of his rope. He had begun absentmindedly sketching the design for a holy water spraying robot when Ford burst in, grinning.

“Fidds, what do you know about anomalies?”

[newtthetranswriter]

can you write a tenth doctor x fem!reader where the reader is a famous entity in history (can you make it mediaeval) and she just gets disappeared and no one knows why like there is no record and the reason why she gets disappeared is she falls in love with the tenth doctor and runs away with him.

The Princess Lost To Time

Word count: 4141

Paring: Tenth Doctor x fem!Reader

A/n: Thank you so much for the request. It felt amazing to write for The Doctor again. Anyways, I tried to make it as accurate to medieval times as I could but there are probably some mistakes. Either way I hope you enjoy and as always remember to hydrate or diedrate.

    The Doctor had a habit of letting the Tardis pick their destination and just enjoying the adventure. This time it seems that the Tardis had landed somewhere in 14th century England. 

    Looking around, The Doctor took in all the information around him trying to piece together exactly what year they had landed in. Meanwhile his companion, Donna Noble was looking around in awe. Sure she had been traveling with The Doctor for months at this point, but each new location, whether it was a different planet or just a different point in earth’s history, took her breath away.

    “I’ve got it!” The Doctor shouted once he figured out what year it was. “1358 England. The middle of the Hundred Years War between England and France.” The Doctor explained to his companion.

    After establishing when they were, the duo began walking through the market. Admiring the simplicities of the middle ages. 

    “Humans are amazing. It’s only been a few years since the black death swept the world and look at them already back to living like it was just a nightmare.” The Doctor said, always amazed by the resilience of the human race.

     “You brought me to England only a few years after the end of the Black Plague? Are you mad? What if we catch it?”  Donna asked, sounding more than a little upset by the risk of catching one of the deadliest plagues the world has seen.

     The Doctor just rolled his eyes. “Oh don’t worry about it. Like I said it’s been years since the outbreak ended. You’ll be fine.” He said turning away from the ginger. “Anyways, what’s going on over there?” The Doctor didn’t wait for a response from his companion, instead he rushed off in the direction of a large crowd lining the street.

    Arriving at the gathering of people The Doctor tried pushing through the crowd to see what everyone was looking at. When he couldn’t get to the front or see over the heads of the peasants he turned to an older gentleman who also seemed to be trying to get a look.

    “Excuse me sir, but what is going on here?” The Doctor asked, curious about what event he may have landed in the middle of.

    The man gave The Doctor a strange look after seeing his clothes, but still responded. “Why, Princess Y/n is set to arrive in town any minute now. She’s stopping through here on journey back to London after studying up north.” The man explained.

    Just as the man finished Donna stopped next to The Doctor slightly out of breath. “Why is it always running with you?” She asked, not having heard any of the previous conversation.

    The Doctor failed to acknowledge his companion, instead he was busy trying to figure out why this ‘Princess Y/n’ sounded familiar. It was like something big happened revolving around her but he couldn’t quite remember what it was. 

    His thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of horses and a carriage coming up the road. “She’s here. Princess Y/n has blessed our peaceful little town.” A woman shouted, drawing everyone’s attention to the carriage, each one hoping to get a glimpse of the crowned princess of their beloved kingdom.

    “Did she just say Princess Y/n?” Donna asked The Doctor.

    The Doctor nodded, before picking up on Donna’s confused tone. “Yes, Princess Y/n is stopping in this small town on her way back to London after spending the last few years studying in Northern England.” The Doctor explained. As he spoke, The Doctor seemed to realize something. “That’s why she sounds familiar!” He shouted, startling a few of the peasants who stood near him and Donna. “Sorry, don’t mind us. Donna, come on.” He said, grabbing her hand and pulling her back in the direction of the Tardis.

    “Oy, Care to tell me why you dragged me back here Spaceman?” Donna asked confused as to why The Doctor seemed to suddenly be in more of a rush than usual.

    Moving to the screen on the Tardis’ console The Doctor pulled up pictures of some extremely old looking new papers. “In 1358 The Crowned Princess Y/n, goes missing on her journey back to London after a few years of studying. Officially the Royal family blamed the War with France for her disappearance. But unofficially no one actually knows what happened to her.” The Doctor explained to Donna as they looked at the records.

    “So what, you think she was taken by aliens or something?” Donna asked.

    The Doctor paused for a second. “Well it’s possible but there’s no record of anything else weird happening around the time of her disappearance. So either she really was just a political victim or aliens were involved and it was forgotten by history. What do you say? Should we find out what happens to the lost princess?” The Doctor asks.

    Donna just sighed. “I don’t really have a choice now do I?” She asked, sarcasm lacing her voice. Seeing the gleam in The Doctor’s eyes at the possibility of solving one of Britain’s oldest mysteries, Donna could help but smile at her best friend. “Fine, let's go.”

    With that the duo once again departed from the Tardis and began looking for clues on what happened to the ill-fated Princess.

    After coming up empty handed on the first day of their search, The Doctor decided he should try and find out if anything had happened prior to the Princess arriving in the small town. To do this he needed to talk with either the Princess’s guards or the Princess herself.

   The easiest choice was probably her guards since it was unlikely that they would even let a strange man anywhere near their princess alone. So on the second day The Doctor approached a few of the guards who were prepping the carriage for the rest of the journey back to London.

    “Excuse me sirs, I just have a few quick questions.” He said drawing their attention. “I’ve been hearing reports of strange things happening on the roads leading to this town. Did either of you happen to see anything on your journey here?” The Doctor asked, hoping they would just answer and not question him in return.

   The guards shared a puzzled look before one of them spoke up. “We’ve heard no such reports or rumors. The strangest thing we’ve seen is you in your strange clothes.” He said matter-of-factly. 

    “Now if you excuse us we have to prepare for the rest of our journey.” The second guard spoke moving to check that nothing on the carriage was damaged.

     Knowing that if the Princess left the small town that afternoon, then he would never know what happened to her, The Doctor tried to think of a way to stall the departure. Almost as if on queue a young man came rushing towards the guards holding a scroll and looking out of breath.

    “There’s a storm a few miles outside of town. It’s washed away the roads and is moving this way. It would be unsafe to take the Princess into the storm.” The first guard read from the scroll he was handed.

     Letting out a silent sigh of relief, The Doctor began trying to think of a way to speak directly to the Princess. She was the last hope of figuring out what was going to happen to her in the next few days.

P.o.V Change

     Y/n had been stuck in the Inn for the last three days since arriving. With the sudden storm that was now dropping buckets of water over the area, her guards deemed it unsafe to travel until the storm passed. That was two days ago and the guards wouldn’t even let her leave her room without one of them close behind her.

     “I will be fine. It’s a small town, if someone wished harm on me they would have tried something by now. I’m going for a walk alone and that’s finale.” The princess declared as she began making her way out of the inn.

      The guards moved to follow her but as she shot them a glare, they stood down. The princess was not someone they wanted to anger.

       Once Y/n was free of the guards, she began slowly walking through the town. Greeting and chatting with the locals, who were shocked at how polite the princess truly was compared to the stories of royalty they had heard. And even though most of the townspeople seemed completely normal, there were two people who seemed out of place and also kept popping up in Y/n’s field of vision.

      Having figured out the strange pair were in fact following her, Y/n decided to confront them. Turning down a seemingly empty street, the princess waited for her pursuers to join her away from prying eyes.

      “Is there a reason you have been following me?” Y/n asked, turning to look at the pair of strangely dressed people who had been following her. When she was finally standing face to face with the strangers, she took the chance to truly inspect the duo.

      They both seemed to be wearing clothes that clearly did not belong in a 14th century town. The woman wasn’t wearing a dress but was instead wearing a bright colored shirt and pants. And the man was wearing a brown pinstripe suit, and even though she thought it was strange Y/n couldn’t help but admit that he did look attractive with his short messy hair.

       “Well… we were just hoping to meet the lovely Princess Y/n.” The woman spoke, pulling Y/n out of her thoughts.

       Snapping her eyes away from the man, Y/n focused on the ginger. “And who might you be?” She asked, curious as to who exactly they were. “Assasians from France?” She continued, assuming this had something to do with her father’s war on the country across the water.

      The man spoke next. “Oh no of course not. I’m the Doctor and this is Donna, my companion.” He explained offering his hand for the princess to shake only to pull it back when she looked at him skeptically. “Right, um, we were actually following you because we’ve been hearing rumors of strange things happening on the roads leading to this town. And we wanted to know if you had heard or seen anything on your journey here?” The Doctor asked.

      “Well Doctor… I will have you know the only strange thing I have encountered in my travels is you and your companion.” Y/n answered skeptically. “What do these rumors have to do with me?” She asked.

      “Oh nothing, we have just been checking with any travelers who stop here to see if they have any answers for us before we go out and investigate for ourselves.” The Doctor answered.

     Y/n could tell the two were hiding something but couldn’t figure out what it was exactly. “Well, then I wish you both luck on your investigation. If you don’t mind I’ll be off now.” She said parting from the duo. 

     As she made her way back to the Inn, Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that something important had just happened and that more was to come. Y/n also couldn’t seem to get the image of the man who calls himself the Doctor out of her head.

 P.o.V  Change

    After parting from the princess, The Doctor led Donna back to the Tardis. He needed to figure out what was going to happen here in the next few days. If Y/n’s impending disappearance was because of something extraterrestrial, he needed to know.

    “What are you going to do if you can’t figure out what happens to her?” Donna asked, looking over the console.

     The Doctor kept pressing buttons looking at his screen. “I don’t know, but something is telling me that Y/n is important and we have to figure out what is going to happen here in the next few days.” He answered not once glancing at his companion. 

     An hour or so later The Doctor groaned as he came up empty handed once again in his search for answers. “I’m going back out there.” He said, grabbing his coat and moving to the doors of the Tardis.

     “It’s pouring down rain again. What do you think you are going to find?” Donna asked.

     The Doctor paused for only a few seconds before responding. “I don’t know, but I just need to do this. I’ll be back soon.” He said, sparing only a quick glance at his best friend before heading off.

Time skip

     It had now been almost a week since the Tardis had brought The Doctor and Donna to the 14th century and they were no closer to finding out what caused the princess to disappear. That’s not to say nothing good has come out of their stay in the small medieval town. 

     The Doctor had surprisingly formed a close friendship with the princess. When he had gone out in the pouring rain, he ran into the princess again. It seems that instead of actually going back to the inn she had gone to sit at a small pond on the edge of the village. The two of them sat and spoke for over an hour in the rain. They simply got to know each other. 

   Y/n spoke about her experience growing up as the crowned princess of a great kingdom and how she traveled north to study. She spoke about wanting to do something more than run a country when her father passes. She didn’t want to spend her life waiting for her dad to die before she could fulfill a role forced on her by tradition.

    The Doctor intern spoke about his long life. At first he tried to keep it vague. Saying things like he had lost his home and family when he was young and how he now travels helping people. He mentioned how he had traveled with close friends and how eventually all of them had to leave at some point. 

    That’s how their first meeting at the pond went. And in the days to follow they would both end up at the same pond, talking and getting to know each other on a deeper level. Over time they both began to share more details about their lives. Y/n shared how she feared that if she didn’t find love soon then her father would force her into an arranged marriage and she did not want to spend her life tied to someone she didn’t love. The Doctor, against his better judgement, revealed that he wasn’t just a man traveling the world but really an alien traveling all of time and space.

    Their talks moved from stories about themselves and their dreams, to stories of worlds Y/n could only imagine. Slowly the Princess found herself falling in love with The Doctor’s world and unsurprisingly with The Doctor himself. Little did she know The Doctor was facing the same dilemma. He knew that he was falling for her but he also knew that her disappearing was a fixed point in history and he couldn’t stop it, it was her fate to disappear after this storm passes and then he will never see her again.

 Time skip

     Eventually the rain stopped and the roads out of town dried enough to safely pass. It was time for Y/n to leave the small town and disappear from the rest of history. The Doctor stood in the Tardis preparing it to leave, completely unaware of the gears turning in his companions head.

    Donna had figured it out after their third day in the small town. After the Doctor returned from his second meeting with the princess, she couldn’t help but notice the soft smile that rested on his face. She could hear the care that laced his voice when spoke of her. It wasn’t the same as when he talked about his past companions or when he talked about saving the Ood. This was something deeper. And seeing the solemn look on The Doctor’s face as he prepared to leave for a new adventure, Donna was certain she knew what was happening.

    “For someone who says they see all possible events playing out at all times, you really are blind, aren’t you?” She asked, breaking the silence in the Tardis.

    The Doctor jumped, forgetting Donna was still in the main room of the Tardis. “What do you mean?” He asked, not understanding what she meant.

    Donna rolled her eyes, moving to stand next to The Doctor. “When we first got here you said you have no idea how or why Y/n disappears.” She began to explain. The Doctor nodded but let Donna continue. “Well, you also didn’t know that you were what caused Pompeii to happen so I guess you not seeing this outcome makes sense. Anyways, It’s you. Princess Y/n of England goes missing because she meets and falls in love with a time traveling alien.” She finished explaining, hoping she didn’t have to spell it out any more for the sometimes dense Timelord.

    The Doctor’s eyes widened. He began connecting the same dots Donna had. Most of the time he could see all possible outcomes of the events happening in front of him. The only exceptions were during major moments in his life, such as when he is about to regenerate or when he has to make a decision that can change the entire course of history. With Donna pointing that out to him again, it all made sense.

     Without another word, The Doctor ran out of the Tardis. He heard the faint shout of ‘you’re welcome’ coming from Donna as the door closed but he had more important things to worry about. He had to make it to the inn before Y/n left for London.

     When he arrived he was greeted by two guards looking around frantically. “Where is she?” He asked, catching the attention of the guards for only a second before they went back to their own search. “Where is Y/n?” He said more directly, grabbing one of the guards to stop him from moving.

     “We were going to tell her that her carriage is ready to leave, but when we got here she was gone.” The guard answered.

     The Doctor felt his hearts racing, what if Donna was wrong and Y/n did go missing because of an outside force they couldn’t predict.

     Before he could ask anymore questions, a maid of the inn walked up to the three clearly distressed men. “The princess said she was going for a walk. She also mentioned that she would not be leaving town until she spoke with someone called ‘The Doctor’.” The maid informed them.

     Hearing this news, The Doctor knew exactly where Y/n had gone. Without missing a beat he bolted from the Inn and ran towards the little pond that had hsi safe haven for the last week.

     As expected when he reached the pond, there Y/n was sitting in the grass watching the water ripple as a gentle wind brushed the surface. The Doctor paused for a moment to take in the sight, glad that he had figured it all out, glad that Y/n had been determined to wait for him, glad that he would finally get a chance to love again after all that has happened in his long life.

    Sensing that someone was standing behind her, Y/n turned around. Seeing that it was in fact the man she was waiting for, a soft smile spread across her face. Though it fell only seconds later as if she remembered something terrible. The Doctor took this as his sign to approach, sitting next to her on the bank of the pond.

    “Do you want to know the truth of why me and Donna were following you the day we met?” The Doctor started, glancing at Y/n and continuing to speak when he saw the small nod she gave him. “It’s because in the future you are known as The Lost Princess. At some point on your journey back to London, you go missing. The official statement was that French spies sought to sew panic by taking out a member of the royal family.” He explained.

     He saw the slight panic that began to settle over Y/n’s face hearing that she was to be a victim of the war her father started. “But unofficially no one actually knows what happens to you. When your guards return to London without you, no one believes that you just vanished and so your father makes up a story to gain favor.” He continued, seeing the worry ease from her face. 

    “But then how do I disappear? If it’s not the French and my guards don’t know the truth either, what happens to me?” Y/n asked, still confused.

    The Doctor sighed and relaxed his shoulders before gently taking Y/n’s hand in his. “That’s why I was following you. I wanted to find out what really happened. I was drawn to the mystery and I wanted to know what could have possibly happened but up until ten minutes ago I had no idea.” He explained, giving Y/n’s hand a quick squeeze. He wasn’t sure if it was to comfort her or himself but it felt natural in that moment and Y/n didn’t pull away so continued. “You see, I can see every possibility happen all the time. I can see every possible outcome before it happens and plan how to achieve the one I want. But there are a few things I can’t see and can’t change. Mainly things that have a direct in pact on the course of my life.” The Doctor explained how he saw the world in as simple terms as he could.

    “It took Donna figuring it out for me to find the answer.” He said, noticing the confusion still on Y/n’s face. “The reason I couldn’t see how or why you disappear is because it has to do with me. I’m the reason you go missing from history.” The Doctor finished hoping she would understand.

    Y/n sat there for a moment trying to piece together what he was saying. She knew he didn’t mean that he hurt her in some way, after all she knew he hated violence and only used it as a last resort. So how could this gentle and loving man be the reason she goes missing. And then it hit her. “Is this you asking me to run away with you in your spaceship, Doctor?” She asked looking up at him, hoping that her guess was right and she hadn’t misinterpreted the connection she felt with The Doctor.

     The Doctor could stop the smile that took over his face. “This is me asking you to come with me, yes. Y/n, I may have only known you for a week but you have managed to find a way into both of my hearts and if I lost you I don’t know if they would keep beating.” The Doctor said, looking into Y/n’s eyes with all the love he had for her. “Would you be so kind as to join me on an adventure across time and space?” He asked with a bright smile.

     Y/n couldn’t hide her own smile at The Doctor’s words. “Of course, I’ll join you. It would be a tragedy to let such an amazing person who managed to steal my heart in only a few days go.” She answered, moving to stand up not letting go of The Doctor’s hand. “Now let’s get to this spaceship of yours before my guards come looking for me.” She said with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

     The Doctor nodded as he stood up. Sure he knew that Y/n was only human and like every human she would eventually grow old and leave him. But just this once he wanted to forget that and just enjoy living in the moment and loving those closest to him. 

    So, entering the Tardis he smiled as he watched the wonder that crossed Y/n’s face at the magic that was Timelord science. He rolled his eyes playfully as Donna joked about having to teach another person about how to act like a normal human in the 21st century. But most of all The Doctor realized as the Tardis took off for another adventure, that there is nothing he would change about his past, after all it led him to this moment. Traveling with his best friend of all time and the woman who stole his hearts, what more could he ever need.

(dividers by @/cafekitsune)