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g-hughes · 11 months ago

Note

[ NUZZLE ] sender presses their face into receiver’s neck

quinn hughes bringing his girlfriend home to meet his family and he has never brought home a girl before so his family knows she must be very very special and he is always talking about her! it’s very sweet and soft and she just fits in the family so well and makes quinn so happy

A Keeper - Q. Hughes

hockey masterlist || g's graduation celly

synopsis: Quinn finds himself at the lake in the off season, and this time, he isn't flying solo

word count: 3.6k

warnings: none! losing game seven

For as long as Quinn could remember, his whole life revolved around hockey. He’d wake up, eat a quick breakfast, go to hockey practice, shower, eat lunch, sit and watch film, come home and take a nap, then go back for another practice or a game. Everything he has ever known has been hockey. Hockey took up every moment of his life, every single thought.

But since that buzzer went off signaling the end of the final period of game seven, Quinn couldn’t think of hockey anymore.

He wasn’t the type of guy to cry, well, not in public at least. But standing on the ice at that moment, staring up at the scoreboard and seeing the final score, he felt that all too familiar burn behind his eyes and in his nose. He glanced around at his teammates, all of them wearing the same shocked and sad expression on their faces. He didn’t dare look over at Arty, knowing that the young goalie was going to be feeling this loss harder than anyone on the team, even though they all played in the game.

You stood off to the side as Quinn answered a couple of questions for the press. Your heart was also feeling heavy and you had that same all too familiar feeling of unshed tears in your eyes. You were so incredibly proud of your boyfriend and his team. The way they were able to turn everything around from the previous season and give Vancouver a play-off berth in over a decade was something to celebrate about. And, even with that knowledge, all you wanted to do was pull Quinn away from the press and give him a hug and a thousand kisses. You could tell just by looking at him he was physically and mentally exhausted. But Quinn wasn’t going to be rude and brush off the media, he was the captain. He would gladly stand and answer the dumb “how are you feeling after the loss?” question so his guys can go home and rest.

When Quinn was done, he silently walked over to you, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers together. He silently led you towards the parking garage, wanting nothing more than to speed out of Rogers Arena and back home to your shared apartment. It was as if the fans knew that he wasn’t in the mood to stop and sign autographs like he usually did, instead they all seemed to give him space as he left the rink.

The two of you seemed to move in silence as you walked into your apartment. You took Quinn’s bag from his hand, as he walked towards the bedroom. You were putting his clothes into the washer when you heard the shower turn on. You laid out a pair of sweatpants for him to put on when he was done, and went to start making him some tea. By the time he was done showering, you were sitting up against the headboard, scrolling briefly through social media, with a mug of camomile tea in your other hand. He quietly crawled into bed, and you shifted so he could lay down next to you. You held your arms open as he laid his head down on your chest.

“I’m proud of you,” You said, running your hands through his hair.

“Even though I lost,” He muttered.

“You might’ve lost this one,” You pressed a kiss to his forehead, “But you’ve won so much more.”

He looked up at you, tired green eyes locking on yours, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Q.”

— — —

You were a ball of nerves.

You had never been the type to get nervous. Usually, you were so sure and confident in yourself, but there was something about flying across the continent to meet your boyfriend's family that had your stomach in knots. Quinn had assured you that there was nothing to worry about, that they already loved you.

Ever since you landed back in Michigan, it was like the weight of the world had been lifted off of Quinn’s shoulders. You guys stuck around for a couple of days after the loss, Quinn having to do exit interviews and pack up his things. Quinn only packed one bag to go back to the lake (oh, and his precious golf clubs), while you seemed to pack your whole closet. Quinn couldn’t help but laugh at you as you were quickly shifting clothes from your suitcase to his in the middle of the airport because your bag was over the weight limit.

“I should’ve told you that we could go shopping when we get here,” He said, one hand on the wheel and the other one intertwined with yours, “Get you a whole new closet to keep here for when we come back next summer.”

“Okay mister ‘i make eight point six million a year’,” You playfully rolled your eyes, “And who says I’ll be invited back next year?” Quinn gave you a look, “What?!”

“You’ll be invited back next year,” He chuckled, “There’s only ever been one person I didn’t want to invite back.”

“Hey, that’s not nice. Trevor is a nice kid,” Quinn shook his head with a laugh, “But I’m serious. What if your family doesn’t like me and doesn’t want me-”

“They are going to love you, Y/N,” Quinn pulled your hand to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of it, “They have been begging me to fly back so that they can meet you. My mom has been sending me texts and asking me about your favorite foods and hobbies and card games.”

You couldn’t help but blush and look down at your lap. You haven’t met Quinn’s family before, but from what he described, you can tell that they are very close. Quinn talks to his middle brother, Jack almost every day on the phone, and either texts Luke or calls him a couple times a week. He values his time with his family almost as much as he values his time on the ice with his teammates.

“And here we are,” Quinn announced as he pulled into the driveway of a beautiful two-story lake house. Excitement and anxiety filled your body, making your stomach turn. Your hands felt sweaty as Quinn jumped out of the driver’s seat and the front door opened at the same time. A boy with longish brown hair and a similar face to Quinn came rushing out of the house, barefoot and shirtless.

You watched as the two men embraced each other in a hug, another boy walking out of the house. He was slightly taller with curly hair, but had those same dark eyebags as Quinn. You slipped out of the car, walking up to the three boys who were engaged in a conversation. It was like Quinn had a sixth sense for you being near him, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into his side, easing some of your nerves.

“And who might this be?” The long haired boy asked, a smirk playing on his lips.

“This would be my girl,” Quinn looked at you, “Y/N,” Heat arose in your cheeks as he looked at you like you hung the stars and the moon.

“Well I’m Jack,” The long haired boy said, holding his hand out to you. You chuckled nervously, shaking his hand, “And it's a pleasure to meet the girl that has my older brother drooling.”

“I am not drooling,” Quinn shot back.

“Basically are, Q,” The taller boy said, “I’m Luke.”

You shook his hand too, “It’s nice to meet you guys, finally. Quinn has told me so much about you. It’s good to see your healing well, Jack.”

“Thanks,” Jack nodded, “Been a long season but I’m glad I got this taken care of,” He massaged his shoulder, and you could see a slightly still puffy, pink scar, “But don’t think I can’t beat your ass at pool, Q.”

“I’d like to see you try, Rowdy.”

“Boys!” A woman called from the doorway. You looked around Luke to see a beautiful blonde woman standing there, her hands on her hips, “Let your brother and his girlfriend get settled before you start your pool tournament!”

“Yes mom,” Both Jack and Luke said. Quinn chuckled as he pulled you towards the front door, letting Jack and Luke bicker about who was going to carry your bags in.

You squeezed Quinn’s hand as you walked up to the matriarch of the Hughes family. You had read up on Ellen Hughes when you had met Quinn. She was an incredible woman, being a former hockey star herself and raising three incredible players. You felt another wave of anxiety rush over you as she looked you over, her eyes similar to Quinn taking you in. It felt like you were standing in front of a judge; a judge who was going to decide if you are worthy enough for her eldest son.

“Hey mom,” Quinn greeted her, leaving your side to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek, “Good to see ya.”

“You too, baby,” Ellen said, and held her son at an arm’s length. She tsked, grabbing his chin and running a finger over the scar on his cheek, “That should’ve been a damn high stick.”

Quinn chuckled, “Not much we can do about it now. Besides, it adds to my cool factor.”

“Mhm,” Ellen nodded, and playfully rolled her eyes, looking back towards you.

You mouth felt dry and you stepped forward, holding your hand out to Ellen, “I’m Y/N, it’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Hughes.”

It was silent for a moment, probably not as long as you felt like it was, but it was long enough, before Ellen pulled you in for a hug.

“Handshakes are for business partners and old men,” Ellen told you as she gave you a squeeze. And just like that, all the tension you felt had melted away. Ellen pulled back and held you at arms length, the same way she did with Quinn, “My son seemed to be hiding you away,” She looked at Quinn, “Why were you hiding her away? You talk about her all the time.”

Quinn chuckled, grabbing you gently out of his mother’s hold, “Because I wanted to keep her for myself for just a bit longer. I know once I bring her home, I’ll be fighting for her attention.”

“Well, start fighting now,” Ellen said and you chuckled, “C’mon, I just finished making some sangria. The boys can take your stuff to your room.”

For several hours, you sat in the kitchen with Ellen, getting to know her. It started off with just small talk; asking where you are from, what are your parents' names, what do they do, what do you do for work, how did you meet Quinn. Then the conversation transitioned into how to make the perfect cheesecake, something Ellen was famous for in their neighborhood back in Michigan. Before you knew it, you and Ellen were making dinner side by side, while the boys sat out on the back patio with their dad, Jim, watching the grill.

“The boys used to volun-tell me to make raspberry cheesecake for every single end of season potluck,” Ellen shook her head with a laugh, “Oh I wanted to strangle them sometimes, cause of course, they never told more than a day or two in advance.”

“Oh of course not,” You giggled, “Quinn signed me up to bake cookies for one of the Canucks charity events. Told me at eight o'clock the night before that he needed me to make three dozen chocolate chip cookies.”

“Boys,” Ellen playfully rolled her eyes.

“What about boys?” Quinn asked as he walked into the kitchen.

“Oh nothing,” Ellen said, wiping her hands on the towel thrown over her shoulder, “Y/N makes a better sous chef than you.”

“Taking my job?” Quinn looked at you. You nodded your head, “Traitor. This is my off-season gig,” He reached over to grab a cube of watermelon, but you swatted his hand back, “Hey!”

“This is for dinner,” You scolded him. Quinn walked around to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, “Quinn, your begging isn’t going to make me cave.”

“Please,” Quinn whined, “I lost game seven.”

“Two weeks ago!”

“I’m still wounded!”

“Fine,” You muttered, grabbing a cube of watermelon and turning in his arms to face him, “Because you lost game seven. . . two weeks ago,” You fed it to him and he smiled.

“Thanks baby,” He kissed your cheek before heading back out to the grill.

You shook your head, going back to placing balls of cookie dough on the baking sheet. It was quiet and you could feel Ellen’s stare on you as you worked, causing you to overthink every little movement you made. You paused, looking at the cookies before looking up at Ellen.

“Did I mess something up?” You asked, fear rising in your body.

“Hm? Oh, no,” Ellen shook her head, “It’s just. . . he never used to joke about the games he lost. In fact, it was almost like a taboo subject to bring up any losses around him. It’s. . . refreshing to see him like that.”

You blushed and nodded, going back to work, a small smile on your face.

Dinner went off without a hitch. Jim had grilled enough hamburgers, chicken and steak to feed a whole hockey team instead of just the six of you. You fell into comfortable silence as you watched the Hughes family interact with each other. It was like no time had passed by them at all, as if they weren’t spread across North America and in different time zones. You felt comfortable and at ease with them. And Quinn could sense that as he looked at you.

“Feeling okay?” He asked, nodding towards your barely touched plate.

“Yeah, I feel fine,” You smiled, picking up your fork, “Just. . . taking it all in,” You sighed. Quinn smiled and placed his hand on your thigh.

Ellen and Jim shared a knowing look across the table, watching you and their son interact. They were both taken aback when Quinn first mentioned a girl in his life. Quinn was always so focused on hockey that personal relationships (unless they were centered around hockey) came second to him. It wasn’t that Ellen feared that her son was going to be alone forever, she just knew the kind of man he was. She knew that hockey wasn’t going to be around forever, that there would come a time where Quinn would retire from the game, and she wanted him to have someone who would be there for when that time came. She wanted him to have someone for when he came home from those long roadies or hard fought games. She wanted him to have the kind of partner and relationship that she has with Jim.

When dinner was over, you and Quinn packed up the boat, putting a small cooler of seltzers and water, a couple of blankets and towels. Quinn gave you one of his sweatshirts to wear, knowing that it would get cold once the sun went all the way down. You sat next to Ellen as the boys and Jim, pushed away from the dock, ready to set out on a slow sunset cruise around the lake. Quinn took up the captain spot, while Jack and Jim navigated, Luke opted to sit next to you and his mom.

“So, who is the best driver?” You asked, looking at the three Hughes boys.

“Oh for sure me,” Jack scoffed.

“You only have one functioning arm,” Luke pointed.

“It wasn’t chopped off,” Jack rolled his eyes, “I can still use my hands.”

“Whatever you say, Bucky Barnes.”

You giggled and looked at Ellen, “They always like this?”

“Got worse with age,” Ellen sighed, “I was a little worried when they all went into the NHL. I have known some families that the competition gets the better of them, and they don’t talk anymore. But not these three. I think if anything, they talk more now than they ever had.”

You smiled, “Quinn talks about them all the time. He has me record their games so he can watch them back after his.”

Ellen’s heart swelled at your words, “He told them about you first,” You blushed, “Jack can’t keep a secret to save his life, and he texted me asking if I knew that Quinn had a girlfriend and I said no, and then Jack launched into this whole story that Quinn told them about you,” Ellen chuckled, “When Quinn told us about you, I told him I already knew.”

“What did he say then?” You asked.

“He said ‘of course Jack told you’,” You laughed and Ellen smiled, “It meant a lot to Jack that you sent him flowers after his surgery, and Luke when you sent some after his Calder nomination. They won’t admit that, but I know it.”

“They mean a lot to him,” You gestured towards your boyfriend and his brothers who were sitting at the front of the boat, “So they mean a lot to me too.”

Quinn glanced at you from where he sat, a smile on his face as you talked to his parents. His parents were two of the most important people in his life. He valued their opinion on almost everything, so it meant something to see you so easily getting along with them. His heart felt warm when he heard your laughter at a, no doubt, embarrassing story his dad was telling.

“So when are you going to propose?” Jack said, pulling Quinn out of his trance.

“What?”

“You got a ring yet? I bet you got a ring already.”

“Huh?”

“You’re going to marry her!” Jack exclaimed, “And don’t even lie, I can see it. I have a sixth sense for these things.”

“Yeah, and I talk to ghosts,” Quinn rolled his eyes. But his younger brother was right. Even though you and him had only been dating for six months, Quinn had already imagined proposing to you, getting married, buying a house, and hopefully, having a family. Quinn had never felt this way about someone before, and he would be lying if he wasn’t a bit scared of his feelings, but one look at you and all those fears melted away.

“Whatever man,” Jack waved him off, “As long as I get to be the best man, I won’t complain.”

“And who says you will be the best man?” Luke asked, “If anything, I think it would be me. I never broke his xbox controller.”

“Luke, you’re literally like seven,” Jack scoffed, “It won’t be you.”

“I’m twenty.”

The sun was completely down by the time you guys had made it back to the dock. Quinn expertly parked the boat in the hoist, and helped you out, before raising it back up. Jack and Luke had run back to the house, shouting something about getting a fire started, Ellen and Jim walking hand in hand behind them. You stood on the dock, taking in the dark lake in the final strands of light from the sky.

“No wonder you guys run away to this place at the end of the season,” You said, “It’s so peaceful here. I love it and I’ve only been here a couple of hours.”

Quinn chuckled, “It feels like this is the one place on earth where I can be just Quinn Hughes. Not the hockey player or the captain of the Canucks. Just Quinn.”

You turned around, draping your arms around his neck, “Well I like it, Just Quinn,” He smiled at you, his hands resting on your hips, “Thank you for bringing me here. For letting me into your life.”

“Of course,” Quinn’s voice was full of sincerity as his thumbs brushed over your hip bones, “Thank you for being in my life. You’ve made me a better person.” You tilted your head up slightly, placing a kiss on his lips. One of his hands cupped your cheek, while the other one tangled in your hair, deepening the kiss. When you pulled apart for air, you rested your forehead against his, wanting to just stand in his embrace for a moment longer.

“Hey lovebirds!” You broke apart, like two teenagers being caught by your parents. But instead of your parents, it was Jack, “Quit sucking face! We’re making smores!”

“He is such a child,” Quinn huffed. You laughed, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the house.

“Yes but you love him.”

“Unfortunately, I do.”

You sat on Quinn’s lap, your legs dangling off the side of the chair, by the fire, as Jack and Luke argued about how toasted a marshmallow should be for the perfect smore. Ellen and Jim sat across the firepit from you and Quinn, enjoying having their kids back home. Your eyes were growing heavier by the minute, the heat from the fire, being in Quinn’s embrace and the exhaustion from traveling finally catching up to you. Quinn could feel your body growing heavier and heavier with sleep, his hand running up and down your back, a soothing motion that he knew would lull you to sleep.

“Tired?” He asked, looking at you.

“A bit,” You yawned, “But I don’t want to go to bed yet, having too much fun.”

“Just close your eyes,” Quinn whispered. You nodded, nuzzling your face into his neck. He leaned his cheek on top of your head. It wasn’t very long after that, that Quinn could feel your breathing start to slow, until you were sleeping in his arms. He looked down at you, a soft smile on his face, as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“She’s a keeper Quinn,” Jim said, raising his can of beer towards his son, “She’s gotta be a special one to deal with you.”

“Yeah,” Quinn said, his eyes still on your sleeping frame, “I’m not letting her go anytime soon.”

note: I am thinking of creating a tag list. Is that something y'all would want? also, requests are open!!

#qh43 #Quinn hughes #Quinn hughes imagine #Quinn hughes fan fic #Quinn hughes fan fiction #Quinn hughes x reader #Quinn hughes x oc #hockey fan fic #hockey imagine #hockey fan fiction

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jungwnies · 4 months ago

Text

sfw alphabet | lando norris

୨ৎ : synopsis : sfw a-z alphabet for lando norris ୨ৎ : word count : 993

୨ৎ : requested : @catherine4631610

(a/n) : don't forget to like & reblog !! my requests are open!

a ⤖ affection (how affectionate is he? how often does he show affection?)

probably quite affectionate, but in a playful, teasing way.

lots of nudges, silly faces, and casual touches rather than constant grand gestures.

b ⤖ beginning (what would he be like as a bsf; how would the friendship start?)

friendship would likely start with some shared interest - gaming, maybe?

he seems like someone who values genuine connection and shared humor. you'd probably roast each other constantly.

c ⤖ cuddles (does he like to cuddle; how would he cuddle?)

enjoys cuddling but might get a bit restless.

he'd probably prefer being the little spoon surprisingly, or a tangled mess of limbs.

d ⤖ domestic (does he want to settle down; how good is he at cooking and cleaning?)

seems like he'd be open to settling down eventually, but not in a rush.

cooking and cleaning? he'd try his best, but might need some "encouragement" (aka, you taking the lead).

e ⤖ ending (if he had to break up with you; how would he do it?)

he'd try to be honest and kind, but might struggle with direct communication.

there's a chance he'd overthink it and make things a bit awkward.

f ⤖ fiance (how does he feel about commitment; would he want to get married quick?)

commitment might take time, but once he's in, he's all in.

he wouldn't rush into marriage, but wouldn't shy away from it either when the time is right.

g ⤖ gentle (how gentle is he; emotionally + physically?)

generally gentle, both physically and emotionally.

he seems to have a good heart and wouldn't intentionally hurt someone he cares about.

h ⤖ hugs (does he likes hugs; how often does he hug you; what are his hugs like?)

hugs are probably a regular occurrence.

playful squeezes, side hugs, and maybe the occasional bear hug when he's feeling extra affectionate.

i ⤖ i love you (how fast does he say he loves you?)

he might take a while to say it, wanting to be sure of his feelings first.

but once he does, he'd mean it wholeheartedly.

j ⤖ jealousy (how jealous does he get; what does he do when he is jealous?)

probably not overly jealous, but might get a bit competitive if he feels threatened.

he'd likely express jealousy through playful teasing rather than anger.

k ⤖ kisses (what are his kisses like; where does he like to kiss you; where does he like to be kissed?)

kisses would be a mix of sweet and playful.

forehead kisses, quick pecks, and longer, more passionate kisses when the moment is right.

he might have a thing for kissing your nose.

l ⤖ little ones (how is he around children?)

seems like he'd be great with kids, patient and playful. (i mean we've all seen him with penelope and how much she loves seeing him)

he'd probably make silly faces and get involved in imaginative games.

m ⤖ morning (how are mornings spent with him?)

mornings would be relaxed and playful.

lots of sleepy cuddles and maybe some friendly banter before getting the day started.

n ⤖ night (how are nights spend with him?)

evenings would be a mix of chilling out and having fun.

gaming sessions, movie nights, or just chatting and laughing together.

n ⤖ open (when would he open up; does he say everything at once or does he wait to reveal himself?)

he might take a while to fully open up, but once he trusts you, he'd be honest and vulnerable.

he'd likely reveal himself gradually over time.

p ⤖ patience (how easily angered is he?)

seems fairly patient, but can be competitive and might get frustrated during intense moments.

he'd likely try to manage his anger constructively.

q ⤖ quizzes (how much would he remember about you; does he remember every little detail; or is he forgetful?)

he'd probably remember the important things about you, but might miss some of the smaller details.

he'd make an effort to pay attention, though.

r ⤖ remember (what is his favorite moment in the relationship?)

his favorite memory would likely be a shared adventure or a moment of genuine connection and laughter.

something unique to your relationship, like an inside joke or something.

s ⤖ security (how protective is he; how does he protect you; how would he like to be protected?)

protective in a subtle way, making sure you feel safe and comfortable.

he'd appreciate someone who can be both independent and supportive.

t ⤖ try (how much effort does he put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

he'd put effort into the things that matter to you, but might not always be the most traditional romantic.

expect thoughtful gestures and quality time over grand displays.

y ⤖ ugly (what are some of his bad habits?)

might be a bit messy and prone to leaving things lying around.

he could also get overly competitive at times.

v ⤖ vanity (how concerned is he with his looks?)

he probably cares about his appearance to some extent, as most people in the public eye do.

but it wouldn't be his defining trait.

w ⤖ whole (would he feel incomplete without you?)

he'd definitely value your relationship and see you as an important part of his life.

but he also seems like someone who values his independence.

x ⤖ xtra (random headcanon for him)

he probably has a secret stash of silly socks and loves to wear them when no one's looking.

y ⤖ yuck (what are some things he wouldn't like; in general or in a partner?)

dishonesty and negativity would be major turn-offs.

he'd also likely dislike drama and people who take themselves too seriously.

he always needs a good laugh so he would hate someone who didn't match his energy tbh.

z ⤖ zzz (what are his sleeping habits?)

he's probably a restless sleeper, tossing and turning throughout the night.

might even talk in his sleep occasionally!

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strawberryblue-blog · 1 month ago

Note

Hello, could you please do Lando Norris SFW alphabet? Thank you!!

A to Z —Lando Norris.

Summary: request.

Warning: none. Cute, soft, fluff, headcanon.

Words count: +800.

A - Affection.

He's always looking out for you, noticing the little details that make your day better. If you mentioned you were having a rough day, he'll show up with your favorite coffee or a special playlist. He loves bear hugs, especially long, mellow ones when it's cold.

B - Best Friend.

His sense of humor is one of his greatest qualities. We all know that Lando loves to joke, play and amuse people. He will make you laugh with spontaneous comments or inside jokes that only the two of you understand.

C - Cuddles.

He doesn't admit it easily but he loves to be pampered. That you treat him like a little kid when it's just the two of you and be his biggest supporter. He melts when you stroke his hair or play with his hands while watching a movie.

D - Domestic.

When he commits to something, he does it with passion. Whether it's work, hobbies or common duties of living together and relationship, he will always give his best. Although he might be a bit lazy at times, he will always end up doing it one way or another.

E - End.

If he would ever end the relationship, he would do it with respect and maturity. He wouldn't be someone who leaves things unfinished or disappears without explanation, he's not that type.

F - Fiancé.

Not someone who rushes into things but when he sees that the relationship is serious and starts imagining a future together, planning trips or talking about goals together, he would do it without hesitation.

G - Gentle.

This is someone who has a soft side, even if at first it doesn't seem so because of his lack of confidence. She knows how to listen and is always looking to make you feel comfortable and safe.

H - Hugs.

He likes long hugs and staying at home with you, either cooking together or watching movies until falling asleep on the couch. But he also likes to go out with the family, visit places, have picnics, take you for rides in his car and stuff like that.

I - I love you.

He didn't say "I love you" too quickly but when he did, it was at a special moment and with all the feeling in the world. Because he really felt that way.

J - Jealousy.

Although he's pretty sure of himself. He is overly jealous (not toxic) just that sometimes it makes him jealous that you are so friendly with the other drivers and hang out with them, like your relationship with Oscar.

K - Kisses.

His kisses are intense and meaningful. He loves to kiss you on the forehead, your hands or collarbone, and enjoys it when you return a surprise kiss.

L - Little one.

He is incredibly good with children, always finds a way to make them laugh and entertain them with games or funny stories (Probably because he wants to have a lot of them in the very near future).

M - Morning.

He prefers to wake up early and seize the day. Sometimes, he will surprise you with a special breakfast or just wait patiently for you to wake up to start the day together.

N - Night.

He loves to spend his evenings with you talking about everything from deep topics to meaningless conversations that end in laughter. He also likes to tickle you endlessly until you cry.

O - Open.

He tends to open up often has nothing to hide and likes communication, as he trusts you completely.

P - Patience.

Not easily frustrated and prefers to talk things over calmly. Knows when to give you space and when to insist to solve a problem.

Q - Quizzes.

Remembers the strangest details about you, like the first movie you saw together, your favorite line from a book, your favorite series and everything that can remeber enough to be attentive to you.

R - Remember.

Treasure special moments, like the first time you held hands, the time you stayed up until dawn without realizing it, the first time you went to the paddock as his girlfriend and how you supported him every race since that day.

S - Security.

He makes you feel protected but without being controlling. He'll always be there when you need him, ready to support you without making you feel suffocated.

T - Try.

He puts effort into everything he does, and that includes the relationship and living together. He's always looking for ways to surprise you and show you how much he cares about you, to demonstrate his full love and commitment to you.

U - Ugly.

He sometimes leaves things lying around and is a bit lazy but tries to compensate with other ways to show his love.

V - Vanity.

He likes to look good, maybe a little exaggerated. But that's Lando, he knows what he has and what you want. He appreciates it when you tell him he looks handsome and enjoys it when you help him dress it up for a special occasion.

W - Whole.

He doesn't need someone to complete him, but with you he feels like everything is better. He makes you feel like you are an important part of his life.

X - Xtra.

Loves when you cook, he really thinks you're good at it and always encourages you to make him pasta or will ask his grandmother for recipes to make together, it's quality time and he loves it.

Y - Yuck (What she hates).

Can't stand dishonesty or pointless arguments. Prefers to solve problems with honest communication.

Z - Zzz (Sleep).

He sleeps deeply, but always seeks to hug you before falling asleep or at least touch some part of your body, you are like his favorite stuffed animal.

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voxslays · 3 months ago

Note

You need to do a NSFW Alphabet - Hwang In-Ho version🤫🫣

NSFW ALPHABET — HWANG IN-HO

A/N: 😏

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

��ႅၴ Very cuddly. In some sense, In-ho is terrified of you leaving him like his first wife. He knows he can’t handle another loss, and in a way, he feels like holding you will stop you from leaving him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

ၴႅၴ For In-ho, he doesn’t really have a favorite body part on himself. I honestly think he could care less. Meanwhile, for you, In-ho is definitely a boobs or thighs guy.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

ၴႅၴ I don’t think In-ho is the type to have any ‘secrets’ when it comes to intimacy. With the people he cares about and cherishes, I doubt he’d keep much from them. He seems like an honest man with you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

ၴႅၴ Very experienced. He is an older—yet extremely attractive—man, who not only had an ex-wife (may she rest in peace), but several other partners as well.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

ၴႅၴ Breeding press.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

ၴႅၴ Very serious. I don’t see In-ho as the type to make jokes on the regular, and definitely not during your intimate time.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

ၴႅၴ A professional romantic. In-ho knows just what to say to you every single time. His words are a mix of degrading and praising—but mainly praising.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

ၴႅၴ Nope. Why would he? He has you!

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

ၴႅၴ Breeding kink. I’m not sure if these count, but he also loves creampie and cockwarming too! Possibly a lactation kink aswell…anything that involves you carrying his child.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

ၴႅၴ The bedroom or office.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

ၴႅၴ Fast, but sensual.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

ၴႅၴ Absolutely not. Never. He likes to take his time with you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

ၴႅၴ Maybe…? I don’t think so though. He’s been doing it for a long time and he knows what he likes and what he doesn’t.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

ၴႅၴ I’d say a 3-4 on a regular night, and maybe 4-5 if he’s pent up.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

ၴႅၴ Haha…nope!

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

ၴႅၴ In-ho is usually a pretty fair man—unless you are being bratty. Then he just has to remind you of your place by edging you for what feels like hours.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

ၴႅၴ Bro is trying to get you pregnant on a regular basis.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

ၴႅၴ Very slowly—if at all. Like the salesman, I think In-ho is a very light sleeper, because he knows the dangers that his job brings both you and him.

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qrrieterisunnq · 4 months ago

Text

Argument Over Name - Quinn Hughes

masterlist | wip's

— WARNINGS: nothing just sweet pure content and cute argument over name — SUMMARY: You finally convinced Quinn about getting a puppy, but he argued with you over the puppy’s name when you brought him home. — WORD COUNT: 2,02K

It was around nine am when Quinn got back from his morning practice and you’ve been a pain in his ass ever since then.

You wouldn’t shut up. First it was about your mom’s birthday which he didn’t mind, because he loves your mom.

But it was maybe an hour later, you screamed in excitement as you went through shelter websites and found the most beautiful puppy you had ever seen.

And that was your signal to annoy Quinn as much as you could to convince him to get the puppy. It was hard. It took you almost two days to do it.

Quinn wouldn’t listen to anything else just your rants about how much you want to get the puppy out of the shelter so he knows how love feels.

“Quinny, please!” you whined, shoveling your phone into his face for the millionth time today. You could say he was beyond annoyed with you, but he loved you too much to tell you straight in the face. “Just take a look at him!”

“Babe. I love you, you know that, but who would take care of him? You know that he needs to attend some training.” Quinn sighed, looking over his shoulder at you. Your lips turned into a pout as your eyes didn’t leave the photo on your phone screen.

“I would do it Q,” you whispered still looking at the puppy. “I want to help him.” You said more to yourself as you pulled away from him and went back to the dining table, where you had been sitting before.

Quinn watched you walk away from him with guilt in his eyes. He knew you would take care of the dog, but he didn’t want to deal with some small thing running around his apartment and pissing and shitting everywhere.

But the sad look on your face and the glistening eyes softened him. With a sigh, he threw his head back and got up. You were so into the article about the dog that you didn’t even notice Quinn who was standing behind you.

“Baby,” he whispered his hands were wrapped around your neck the moment he reached you, startling you a little bit. “Will you really take care of him?” he sighed and leaned down to rest his chin on your shoulder.

You nodded your head looking at him with doe eyes and pout. You knew these two things were his weakness and always made him melt. That’s why you did it.

“Okay then, I think we can get a look at him and get him,” he whispered and kissed your neck lightly.

“Really?” you pulled away from him in surprise while you dropped your phone on the table. “Are you serious Quinn?” you whispered again your hand going immediately around his neck.

“Yeah, I am, baby. But you really have to take care of him.” His lips grazed yours in a soft kiss, while his hands roamed your body, not in a sexual way, just to make sure you were okay and happy.

“I love you, Quinn.” You giggled and pressed your lips to his in a hungry kiss.

The bell above the door rang when Quinn and you made your way inside the animal shelter, only a few minutes away from your apartment building.

A lady behind the counter looked at you with a wide smile and said, “Hello, welcome to SPCA how can we help you?” Quinn looked at you and pushed you gently forward. You looked at him with a nervous grin and then politely smiled at the lady.

“Hi, uhm we came here to adopt a puppy,” you breathed out nervously. You hate talking to people and Quinn knew it that is why every time he nudges you forward to talk. “I saw this one on your website and just wanted to know if he is still available.” You pulled out your phone and showed the lady the puppy photo.

“Oh Bully! Yeah of course! You are actually the first one who wanted him.” sad smile linger on her lips for a while as she typed something on the computer.

“Are we?” Quinn’s brows were high on his forehead as he asked with surprise.

“Yeah, i blame it on the way he walks.”

You turned slightly at Quinn who looked down at you with disbelief. You could see the disgust with people.

“What happened to him?” your voice was thick from the weird feeling in your stomach you were feeling. Your hand was playing with the hem of your sweater from the nervousness while the other one was gripping Quinn’s.

Quinn could sense the change in your mood, he knew you like the back of his hand and he could tell when something was off. To calm you down he pressed his lips to your temple, and let them linger there for a while.

“When he was born, the family didn’t want him, so they didn’t feed him properly, just let him have his mother’s milk and that was all. They were somehow able to broke his back left leg in three parts.” Quinn and you could sense the hate in the lady’s voice.

You closed your eyes at that, took in a deep breath and thought about how someone could be so cruel to something so innocent as a puppy. You hated those people. If you were about to change something in this country then it would definitely be highest sentences for hurting animals.

“Assholes.” Quinn murmured under his nose shaking his head as you two followed the lady inside the room with dogs.

Your eyes immediately went to all the puppies and dogs in there. You wanted nothing more than just to adopt all of these so they could feel the love people, the right people, can show them.

As if Quinn was reading your thoughts he bent down until his lips were almost touching your ear and he whispered, “I know love, but just the one okay?”

“Okay, so here is Bully. We didn’t give him any name, because we hope someone would come for him and you did so,” she chuckled at her voice, the same went for you and Quinn. She opened the cage and pulled out the cutest puppy you have ever seen.

You let out a quiet aww when she came closer to you two. You carefully reached your hand forward, to pat him when he barked out and licked your palm.

Goggles left your mouth and Quinn watched you with so much love in his eye. He loves seeing you happy, and if a small four-legged thing shitting and running around your apartment, would make you happy, then he won’t say a word.

Quinn watched as the lady handed you the puppy who was already making its way to you. A smile spread on his lips when a giggle left your mouth when the puppy licked your face.

The lady watched the two of you with a fond smile, knowing that both of you won the lottery, when you found each other. Because in a really long time, she didn’t see a man looking at his woman the way Quinn does at you.

“You can get to know each other while I will take care of the papers. I will be back in a few.” she smiled at you two and left the room, leaving you alone in there with the small fluff in your arms.

You turned around to face Quinn, who was already looking with a small smile.

“What?” you asked, your eyes searched his for some answers and he just shook his head with chuckle.

“Nothing, babe.”

“Really?” the way he was standing there and just staring at the two of makes butterflies flutter in your stomach.

“Yeah, really.” he smirked and reached his hand forward the puppy, who either wiggling tail licked his fingers. “Hi there buddy.”

“Here, hold him,” you handed him over to Quinn, who carefully took him and positioned him like a baby in his arms with a smile lingering on his lips.

You took the opportunity of the two of them together and made some pictures of them so you could later sent them in the Hughes’ group chat.

The lady came back within a few minutes with papers for you to sign.

“We will not name him Goblin, Quinn!” you shouted at him from the kitchen, where you were currently preparing dinner for the two of you. “We are not in The Lord of the Rings.”

It has been three hours since you got home from the SPCA, and the puppy has been sleeping since then. Before you got home you managed to buy everything for him, like food, a collar, a doghouse, toys, and other things which was probably your favorite thing to do.

You could hear a loud sigh from the living room before he said, “But it would be so cool,” he whined, and you could vividly imagine the pout on his lips. “Ph and what about Shmoop?”

As soon as he said that you stopped in your tracks, your jaw hanging open. The fuck?

“Where the fuck did you look for those names?!” you walked out of the kitchen with a knife in your hand and stand in front of him.

“Uhm the AI,” he chuckled nervously and showed you his phone where a list of silly dog names was. “It’s actually really good, you should-“Before he could finish it, you took off your slipper and threw it at him.

“Quinn! Stop making fun of it!” you shouted at him with a slight frown and then went back into the kitchen. You could hear Quinn’s muffled chuckles, forcing you to smile too.

“And what about Waffles?” he said again with a teasing tone. You groaned at his words throwing your head back slightly annoyed.

“I am serious Q. We can’t name our baby like this,” you said while chopping peppers with a little too much force.

You could hear some shuffling coming from the living room before you could feel his presence behind you. You didn’t really acknowledge him and continued preparing the dinner.

“What did you just say?” his voice was deeper and raspier than before, making you turn around and look at him.

“That we will not name our baby like this!” You knew exactly why he asked that which was why a grin spread all over your lips. Quinn, who was standing behind you, made a face as if he heard tight even for the second time, and then he just shrugged his shoulder, accepting his fate. “I have better names,” you sighed when you could feel his hands sneaking around your waist.

“Oh, you have?” he asked with a raised brows which you couldn’t see. He tightened his arms around your waist and pulled himself closer to you.

“Yeah, Winston, Atlas, Orion,” you turned around and threw your arms around his neck while tilting your head.

“No way I will call Orion in the park at him.” he shook his head and pulled away from you slightly. You pursed your lips at him.

“Quinn, you didn’t even want that dog,” You sighed and pulled away from him completely, your shoulders dropping down. “So, I can name him however I want to.” You said stubbornly and turned back to finish your dinner.

“Babe, come on,” he let out a defeated sigh and a smile grew on your lips knowing that you did what you did. You ignored him when he yet again wrapped his hands around your waist. You ignored him when he trailed his lips down your neck and on your shoulder. And you ignored him when rested his forehead against your shoulder and sighed again. “Fine, okay. You can name him however you want to.”

A mischievous smirk appeared on your lips as you achieved what you wanted to. You turned around with doe eyes and a small smile.

“Really?” you asked innocently, giggling when Quinn tickled your hips.

“Yeah, now scoot over I’m gonna help you with the dinner.”

#quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes #qh43 #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes fanfic #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fanfiction #vancover canucks #quinn hughes one shot

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froggiewrites · 8 months ago

Text

Bloody Hands

Pairing: Law x Reader

NSFW

Summary: You're struggling with horrible period cramps, and luckily, Law has the perfect solution. Warnings: Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Period Sex, Fluff Word Count: 2.1k Notes: Did I write this in one sitting instead of just taking ibuprofen for my cramps like a normal person? Maybe. Anyway, this is my first time writing for Law, so I hope I did him justice!

This is going to kill you.

You say that every month, of course, but you really, truly mean it this time. You’re practically immobilized, laying in the fetal position on your bed trying not to let out pitiful moans every time another wave of pain hits. You fail every time.

Several members of the crew had come to check on you, bringing offerings of heating pads, ibuprofen, and various other remedies, but they hardly helped. After the fifth visit (Penguin bringing you more water while anxiously checking you over), you couldn’t even thank your friends, only letting out a sad whimper to acknowledge their presence before once again squeezing your eyes tight and trying desperately to ground yourself.

Your captain had been noticeably absent from these visits, probably burying himself in work as he always does, and you’re torn between being grateful he hasn’t seen you in such a sorry state and hurt tearing through your chest that he didn’t care enough to check on you. You would have gone to him in a heartbeat if he was doing as poorly as you were. He wouldn’t want you to, of course, would lock his door and burrow so deeply into his bed he wouldn’t see a single speck of light until his illness had passed, but you would come anyway. You would at least try.

You regret the thought the moment you hear a familiar hum at the doorway. You should have known he would never leave you alone when you needed him. “I almost didn’t believe everyone when they said how bad it was.” You whine, and you hear a sympathetic chuckle. “I know.” The heels of his shoes click softly against the ground, and suddenly Law’s warm hand has slid under your shirt, warm and gentle as it rubs circles onto your upper back.

“Everything hurts.” You’re so lost in the pain you can't even bring yourself to hate how pathetic you sound. His other hand comes to rest on your cheek, and you nuzzle into it, welcoming the affection gratefully.

“I know, sweetheart.” He doesn’t often call you pet names, and it makes your heart flutter when he does. Usually when you hear them it means you’re going to be taken care of, cherished in a more tender way than the quiet and understated (but no less wonderful) way he normally shows his love for you. His lips ghost over your forehead, and you finally open your eyes to see his own staring at you with undisguised concern, bags under his eyes more pronounced than usual. “Can you describe it to me? Is it just the cramps, or is there something else?”

“It’s just cramps. And a small headache, I guess.” Another wave crashes over you, and you pull yourself in even tighter. “They’re…they’re not normally this bad.”

“And the pain meds haven’t helped?”

“Not enough.”

“Hm.” You can see the exact moment he flips from lover to doctor, racking his brain for any knowledge he can use to help you, and the moment he finds his answer. The light flickers on behind his eyes, and he carefully looks over you, assessing the situation, before your lover is back, sly grin slowly creeping over his face and a quiet excitement makes its way into his voice. “I think I know something that could help. If you’re willing.”

“I would do anything for this to stop,” you whimper, and his amusement once again fades into fondness as his eyes soften with pity.

“I’ll do my best to help, sweetheart, I promise.” His lips brush against your forehead again before the bed shifts and his warmth has left you. You cry out, but he gently shushes you. “Just a minute. I’ll be right back, really.”

He probably is only gone for a minute, but it feels like hours. You don’t relax for even a second until you hear a quiet, “Shambles!” and find yourself in the familiar dim light of Law’s room. Your back is pressed against something rougher than his usual blankets, and you turn your head to see you’re laid out against a mismatched array of towels, clearly stolen from the shared bathroom the rest of the crew uses. His pair of towels are separated, one lying directly under your lower half while the other sits folded and ready at the end of the bed. Law is staring at you, unblinking, directly next to it.

“Hi.” Your voice is weaker than you want it to be, barely a whisper, but he slightly smiles when he hears it anyway.

“Hi.” He leans forward a bit, eyes flashing dangerously in the dim light, looking almost like a predator stalking his prey. It makes you tense despite yourself, causing another flash of pain in your abdomen. The vulnerable noise you make causes him to grin, showing just a bit of sharp canines through his parted lips. “Are you ready?”

“For what?”

“Your treatment, sweetheart.” He maintains eye contact with you as he slowly pulls latex gloves over his tattooed hands, covering the letters on his fingers. Once they’re fully on, he lets the material go, making a small thwap as it snaps against his skin. He repeats himself. “Are you ready?”

“Yes?”

“I need you to be sure.”

“Yes.” You repeat, more firmly this time.

“Excellent. I promise you’ll feel better soon.” With that, you can feel the cool latex against your skin as he slips off the loose pajama pants you were wearing in a single fluid motion. You then feel his hands against your thighs, forcing them apart and leaning forward. You let out a soft noise of surprise, and he gives you the same predatory smile as before before muttering, “Just relax.”

His gloved fingers slowly trace up your thighs, before he quickly removes your panties, depositing them somewhere nearby. He turns his attention back to you, fingers retracing their path, and you shiver as he runs a single finger down your slit. He lifts his hand closer to his face as though to inspect it, and you can see the blue latex becomes stained with blood. You can see his pupils dilate, black overtaking the normal steely grey of his eyes. You can’t tell if he’s fascinated or aroused. Probably both.

He allows his hand to find its rightful place again, slowly inserting his first finger into you. You gasp quietly, and he laughs under his breath. You feel yourself stretch around him as the slick of your blood makes it easy for him to slide himself knuckle deep into you. You let out a stuttering breath as you get used to the new sensation. Your pain hasn’t subsided, but this is certainly a good distraction.

“Everything alright?” His voice is low, thick with want, but he tries to maintain an even tone.

“Yeah,” you managed to squeak out. “I’m fine.”

“Only fine?” He lets out a displeased hum. “Next time I ask, I want you to be doing better than ‘fine’.”

“That’s up to you, isn’t it?” You regret the words the moment they come out of your mouth. As much as Law loves to pretend he is some even-keeled professional, he’s easily riled up by a challenge, and challenges relating to you are some of his favorites. “I mean–”

“I know what you meant. Don’t worry. I’ll make it happen.” With that, he begins pumping, keeping a steady slow pace that isn’t nearly enough for you, before suddenly adding a second finger. He curls them, hitting a sweet spot that makes you sing for him, and he gives you an absolutely shit eating grin. “Sounds like we’re already well on our way, hm?”

He speeds up slightly, his other hand leaving the plush of your thigh and finding your clit. The material feels strange against you, but that thought is quickly shoved out of your head as he slowly begins to rub small circles against it. You let out a whine of, “Law!”

“Yes?” His voice is dripping with smugness. You can do nothing but let out another small cry of his name, and you can see the way his chest slightly puffs out with pride at the sound. There is nothing in the world he loves more than making you come unraveled, and he loves any reminder of that, especially those that remind him that you’re his and that he is the one making you feel this way. “Just relax, sweetheart. I’ve got you. We’ll be there soon.” He adds a third finger, reveling in the way you clench around him. You see his eyelids drop slightly as he takes in the sight of you splayed out before him, blood and wetness covering his fingers as they pump in and out of you.

You finally, finally begin to feel something stronger than your pain as the coil in your stomach tightens, making every part of you begin to tense as you approach your precipice. Law leans over you, taking his eyes off of your cunt for the first time since he started just so he can look you in the eyes and whisper, “Let go. I’ve got you.”

You gush around his fingers, crying out. He doesn’t look away from your face as your eyes squeeze shut and you throw your head back, taking in every inch of your sweet expression. He works you through it, not removing his fingers until he knows for certain that you’ve ridden your high to the end, leaving you spent and relaxed against the towel below you. Once he slides his hands out of you, he quickly removes his gloves, dropping them into a nearby trash can. He grabs the towel at the end of the bed and uses it to wipe up any blood on your thighs, placing a gentle kiss to each thigh once he’s sure they’re clean.

“How are you doing?” His voice carries no challenge like earlier, only a genuine concern for you.

“I’m great.”

“No cramps?”

You close your eyes, taking in your current state. You feel a little sore, and there’s still a small pressure in your skull, but you realize your abdomen doesn’t hurt at all. “No cramps.” You can’t keep the pleased smile off of your face, and when you open your eyes you see his expression mirrors your own, if a touch more smug.

“Good.” He kisses your forehead before gently gathering you into his arms. You let out a soft noise of protest, but he pulls you into his chest anyway. “After a quick shower and some sleep I think your treatment will be over. …For now.”

“For now?”

“You’ll have to come see me if your cramps return, of course.” His eyes shine with a gentle mischief you don’t often get to see.

“Oh, of course, Dr. Trafalgar.” You expect him to roll his eyes at you, but he smirks further at you using his title. Interesting.

For now, he carries you into his personal bathroom, setting you down and beginning to fuss with the shower. Your eyes spy the empty towel rack, and you have a realization. “Law?”

“Yes?”

“Do you have any towels not covered in blood?”

“I–hm.” He leaves for a moment, returning with another clearly stolen towel. The crew is going to have a bad night once showertime rolls around, but you can’t bring yourself to care too much, still caught up in your sudden relaxation after your day of suffering. In the shower, Law pampers you thoroughly, refusing to let you lift a finger to do anything for yourself. His fingers are gentle as he washes your hair, your face, your body. He wraps you tenderly in a towel once all is done, even helping you dress once you’ve dried. He only stops pampering you once he’s tucked you tightly into his bed, heating pad and pain meds ready on his nightstand just in case. And in a very rare treat, instead of rushing off to work, he lays down next to you.

“You aren’t going to leave?” You can’t keep the tentative hope from your voice.

“Not until you’re asleep.” He pulls your head into his chest, and you happily make a home there.

“I’ll have to stay up to keep you here.” Even as you say it your eyes are drooping, and you can feel the rumble of his laugh.

“You can try.” He runs his fingers carefully through your hair.

You lose quickly, falling into an easy sleep, surrounded by warmth and care, and pain far away from your mind.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece

#law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #one piece x reader #law x you #law x y/n

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luvhughes43 · 1 month ago

Text

love grows (where my rosemary goes)

[au masterlist 📖]

summary: 5 times quinns and rosemarys' family realized quinns in love and the one time he realizes it himself <3

word count: 1.9k

🏹 the bookstore - rosemary's grandmother

quinn steps into the quaint bookstore and immediately spots his girlfriends grandmother standing at the checkout counter. he sends her an awkward smile as he saunters around of table of books and makes his way towards the woman. "hey, how are you today?" he asks politely.

rosemary's grandmother smiles delicately, "i'm doing as well as one can be doing, dear" she pauses for a second before continuing, "rosemary's busy painting," she leans in and whispers - pointing a tired finger over to a quiet nook in the shop. quinn follows the woman's direction and finds his girlfriend of a few months sitting cross-legged on the floor with a small paint brush and pallet in her hands.

the older woman watches silently as quinn watches rosemary work - his eyes soft and tender as the familar notes of a taylor swift song drift from rosemary's phone. he turns and smiles goofily at her grandmother, "i'm gonna go say hi," he announces shyly and the woman waves him on.

quinn ends up staying for an hour - huddled into the back corner of the shop as rosemary teaches him how to paint little floral accents across the new bookshelves she installed just last week.

"soft strokes," she reminds him, placing a calming hand over quinns rough one. rosemary guides him slowly, focusing on the vines theyre painting across the shelves but he focuses solely on her. the concentrated look on her face, the way she scrunches up her eyebrows as she hones in on the smallest details... to quinn she was beautiful in every endeavour.

between stocking shelves and managing a few polite costumers, rosemary's grandmother watches the young couple with a small smile. the softness in quinns gaze makes it clear that he has more than mild feelings for the woman's granddaughter.

"he's a real keeper," she tells rosemary as soon as the front door chimes with quinn's exit. "he looks at you like... like a girl ought to be looked at... you've got something real special, 'mary" she pats rosemary on the shoulder before squeezing her gently. she didnt want to scare the girl with the word "love," but she thought it.

a rosy blush flushes across rosemary's cheeks - who can't seem to focus on her painting now that her boyfriend had left.

🏹 canucks end of season party

"you need anything?" quinn mumbled, leaning in close so only rosemary could hear.

"i'm good," she whispered back, eyes twinkling as she watched her boyfriend with his friends. two homebodies in a relationship equalled a lot of at-home dates... and if the two weren't cuddled up at quinns apartment then they were in-between the stacks at rosemarys family bookstore.

quinn stares at her for a moment, eyes going soft as he takes in her appearance. she was wearing blue, representing the team, but the little silver Q around her neck was what made him go still.

he reaches for it silently, toying with the letter between his calloused fingers. "do you like it?" she asks, focusing on the way quinns eyes stay glued on the necklace.

"y.. yeah," he shakes his head, trying to think clearly as he cups the letter in the palm on his hand.

across the room, petey and brock watch the scene unfold. "yeah, he's whipped," brock says definitively.

petey chuckles, "yeah. good for him,"

nothing more had to be said as the night resumed. quinns arm remained firmly around the back of rosemary's chair, and every so often he'd turn towards her and check in. it was obvious to all those around them. his soft gaze, the small curve of his smile that they so rarely got to see in the locker room and on ice... it had to be love.

🏹 family dinner - rosemary's mom

rosemarys' grandparents house was full of quiet energy as everyone sat down for sunday dinner - a non-negotiable affair. but tonight was special, for it was quinns first time attending... which was made clear by rosemarys grandmothers incessant catering.

"now, you got everything you need?" she asked the dark headed man after filling up his cup with water for the second time. "anything i can get ya? another napkin maybe?"

quinn shakes his head politely, "no i'm good, really, thank you."

"mother, sit down," rosemary's mom chides, and soon enough the bustling stops and everyone digs into their food.

it was unmistakable, how quinn would find little ways to comfortingly touch rosemary throughout dinner. a smoothing hand along her back, brushing his hand against hers when picking up his fork, the way he'd sweep her hair over her shoulders with the back of his hand as she spoke.

he looked at her differently too... intense but soft at the same time. whenever she spoke he was transfixed as if whatever she was saying was the most interesting thing he'd ever heard... the subtle lean and tilt of his head when she spoke to him.

it was subtle, but it was there... and it made rosemarys mothers' stomach swirl with happiness. it was something every parent wished for their child. it looked like love.

🏹 the lake house - jack

"why are you acting like mom?" luke jokes. "relax,"

"because you guys are disgusting and wont do shit," quinn mutters, peeling a pair of swim trunks off the couch. "help me clean,"

yawning, jack stretches across the couch. "lukey boy, q's uptight because his girlfriend gets here tomorrow. remember?" he laughs, reaching a hand up to poke his older brother who swats him away.

luke releases a loud, ahhh, as things click. "is that why you called mom to ask how to clean the bathroom?"

at that, jack cackles. "you had to ask mom how to clean... geez youre like, pushing thirty,"

"oh shut up," quinn swats at him again, this time less aggressive. "you call mom for things all the time you hypocrite. 'momm, how do i tell if my chickens cooked?'" quinn imitates and jack scowls.

"that was one time,"

"okay, well help me clean up" quinn huffs, shoving jack off the couch with a thud.

"alright... alright..."

as jack put the third load of laundry through the wash, he knew what quinn had with rosemary must've been something. he had never seen the man so much as pick up a broom, and now he was walking around the house bossing everyone around with a hand on his hip... squeaking out "you missed a spot!"... before sighing like somebody's tired mother.

jack watched as quinn continued cleaning well into the evening... folding fresh bedding for his room and cleaning out his closet so rosemary could have more space. it was serious, and if this wasnt love... jack wasnt sure what is was.

🏹 the golf course - jim and ellen

"i don't know if you wanna take his advice ro', he's not very good," jack jokes with a chuckle as he lazily watches his older brother slide himself behind his girlfriend. quinn reaches his arms around his girlfriend and lightly grips her hands that hold her golf club.

"i'm better than you!" quinn calls out quickly, before focusing his attention back on rosemary who laughs. "okay, so hold a little tighter..." quinn explains as the rest of the family resumes light conversation.

quinn lightly swings rosemary's hands back and she follows through with the movement - the golf ball doesn't move. "were we supposed to hit the ball?" rosemary laughs lightly, and quinn cant help but giggle.

"that was just a practice swing," he explains with a wide grin, before repositioning himself behind her. he holds her hands tight in his own and swings the club back behind both of their heads.

"good job, rosemary!" ellens joyful voice rings out, and rosemary's cheeks flame as the whole family's gaze turns to her and quinn.

the family watches as round after round, quinn lingers near rosemary. it was the small touches that gained the attention from his parents though. lightly touching her shoulder between turns, tapping her on the back when it was her turn to step up to the tee, slinging his arm around her waist the second she finished trying to hit the ball.

"well, rosemary it was nice having you play with us!" jim announces as the family starts to get off the boat. "you'll have to come out again sometime,"

without needing to ask, quinn holds his hand out to steady rosemary as she steps out of the boat. "i had a lot of fun! although i don't know how good of an idea that is... i think i held you guys up. i honestly shouldn't be allowed to hold a club again," the brunette jokes, referring to how long it took her to actually hit the golf ball during her turns.

"no, you were really good actually," quinn reaffirms with a lovesick smile. his gazes at her softly, as if it was just the two of them on the dock and not his whole family.

"we put up with lukes skills so you fit right in!" jack teases his younger brother with ease.

"im better than you!" luke pipes up, shoving jack lightly as soon as he steps off the boat himself.

"alright, alright, you're all superstars," jim cuts in. he finishes docking the boat, and cant help but notice how close his oldest son was to his girlfriend. as the couple stepped off the dock and starting making their way up to the house, quinn slips his hand into rosemarys.

then, as the group walks up the backyard towards the house ellen and jim cant help but listen in on their oldest sons conversation. "no, but you actually weren't bad at all," quinn speaks lightly to rosemary - who shakes her head and smiles brightly up at him.

ellen and jim give each other a knowing look as they step into the house. their boy was definitely in love.

+ QUINN 🏹 on the boat

then there was that look on her face... thoughtful, concentrated as her eyes drifted from the calming waters to the sunset, then down to his hands which gripped the steering wheel tight. he could only see half her face from her spot perched on his lap, but oh what a wonderful half it was.

"you getting tired?" quinn asks when she adjusts herself in his lap... head instinctively resting against the crook of his neck. she hums, brushing her soft lips against his neck in response.

he squeezes her waist, savouring their moment of stillness before they'd eventually have to return to the rowdy house.

theres a brief silence before rosemary sleepily whispers, "i love it here,"

quinn steers the boat with one hand and rubs the exposed skin on her back with the other, "it's better when youre here." he presses a light kiss to the side of her head, "thank you for coming,"

rosemary kisses his neck again before pulling away slowly. one of her hands ends up softly combing through his hair and he sighs long and slow. "thanks for having me,"

quinn glances towards the water, and when he sees that theyre the only boat on the lake, he leans in and kisses rosemary. his hand settles against her back, and her hand tugs at his hair as she brings him closer.

he felt overwhelmed with the feeling of her lips against his and the tight feeling in his chest. that little word perched itself on the tip of his tongue, and he wondered what it'd feel like to let it out.

"i love you," he mumbles when they pull apart... the waves rocking the boat beneath them.

she kisses him, "say that again,"

"i love you, rosemary"

she smiles against his lips, and he savours the feeling. "i love you too, q"

"i love you,"

#rosemary + quinn au #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes blurb #nhl fanfiction #nhl blurb #nhl fic

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kyri45 · 5 months ago

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✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 29/10✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

@xyuki-iris ha chiesto: I LOVE YOU'RE ART ALSO GOOD FOOD But I have a what if What if Redson found Mk having a panic attack over something serious about him being Trans.

Ouch poor baby Red Son would totally support MK and try to calm him down

@ashmeertheimp ha chiesto: First of all your story is glorious and congrats on getting lmk at the very top. Second does Mk want to work on his relationship with Nuwa. I think Nuwa did truly love Mk but she also loved everyone else on earth equally. Mk has forgiven Mac who actually made an effort to hurt Mk (past mistakes) while Nuwa was opposed but still didn't stop Mk from not fixing the pillar of heaven.

I always felt like after S5 his relationship with Nuwa is similar to the one Steven had with Rose after S5 of SU. So it's- complicated

@audioandart ha chiesto: mayhaps a silly question, but towards the very start of the mk shadow peach stuff when mk first shadows into the wall. He says "why is everything *more* flat". Is this implying he already sees the world as 2d the way we do or am I perhaps missing something? 😅 (I love your work! Have a good day 🫰)

ahah yeah I was!!

@fake-anjel ha chiesto: Your comic makes me stay awake at night thinking of the next cap, making theories and making imaginary scenarios and imaginary gacha reactions to them for some reason. I was wondering... If Wukong and Macaque have a child (hypothetically, and by the biological way) wich one would be the oven for the bun? You have a fan from Brazil<3

Well, I would say Wukong, but here comes the question: a Stone Monkey, born from a stone, would be able to reproduce themself? There are no other like the four celestial primates and MK, so I would assume that they weren't able to- reproduce normally. Also if they would does it mean the womb is a stone as well???

@sollythesalt ha chiesto: Just asking if Wukong is trans do his female organs also count as part of his un-glamored form or does he stay with his male ones when he drops his glamour? Also what does his glamour include in your au just out of curiosity?

No under the glamour and shapeshift he still has female organs

@dandy-doodles ha chiesto: I'm VICIOUSLY consuming your comic rn - It actually came across my feed from a reblog. Never watched the show before. Loved the comic so much I binged the entire series and now I'm sat with the task of reading JTTW. This hyperfixation is your fault I love you for it. @ivoronical ha chiesto: Hi! I don’t know how tumblrs asks work because I’ve never used them before, but just wanted to say that your art is ✨fabulous✨ and you’re shadowpeach bio parents au has convinced me to rewatch the show entirely. It’s also made Macaque one of my favorite characters and because of that I am halfway through making a cosplay of him completely from scratch and I’m very excited to finish it:) Anyways I’ve rambled enough. Have a nice day!!! @starzz-twi ha chiesto: Can I just say how much I adore your art! It inspires so much that I might try drawing lmk again 🫶🫶🫶🫶 @artemismoorea03 ha chiesto: I hope you know that your Bio Parents AU fills every waking moment. I swear I only get on Tumblr anymore to see if you've posted something. I eat up any art you post regardless of what fandom it is and I just have to tell you that your art tastes like a blue raspberry icee (the best kind). I hope you're having a fantastic day ♡

AWWW TYSM TO ALL OF YOU!!!!

@sakuralotus03 ha chiesto: What will family gatherings be like now that MK has 4 parents? Like his birthday or end-of-year celebrations. I want to see more of the dynamics of the 4 parents interacting and talking about their one and only child.🐷🤓☀️🌙

oH CHAOTIC INDEED

Anonimo ha chiesto: How does it feel to be one of those artists that like 70% of the fandom knows about

wait is that a random number or???

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will we maybe see Macaque interact with Bai He or Mei?? (I'm starved of DarkHorse/EnderDragon/NightFlare Duo and Raspberry/Black Cat Duo) But I am interested if you might make them interact! :D Anyways, I love how your art got better by each comic, you can see the improvement from the slight sharpness of the shapes in the first comics and the now softer lines.

mmmmm I will maybe I'll do some small scenes

Anonimo ha chiesto: Past Wukong working out: I'ma get so strong. Ain't no one beating me Present Wukong working out: I'ma be so good at hugging my son and husband.

AWWWWWW WHAT A GOOD BABA!

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hello! I wanted to ask if we'll see just how sensitive Macaque's hearing is in your Au in a future comic maybe? Like... a thunderstorm happens or something when he's around FFM watching Mk and Wukong train or something that affects his hearing badly? But either way, love your art and style! :)

mmmm don't know if I have a scene planned for that...

Anonimo ha chiesto: Does Wukong and Macaque know about the other 2 Celstial Primates, Red-Hoarse Baboon and Lomg-Armed Gibbon, in your Bio Shadowpeach parents au?

I think so? In JTTW he knew so I would assume the same?

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will Macaque use his future vision at any time again in this comic? We now know in this Au he hasn't used it in years. But maybe will he use it again soon? I bet he won't but I still wanted to ask :)

not unless he is forced to

Anonimo ha chiesto: I’ve been listening to a song from a Pokémon movie: Always Safe by Cynthia, and I think of the Shadowpeach bioparents Au everytime

AWW that's beautiful the lyrics omg!!!

@notjustonefandom1 ha chiesto: So, I've been thinking about MK's staff. After he got it do you think he develops a habit of clasping his hands together, especiallywhen stressed or threatened? With the fluidity and energy he moves with, I think it would take a while for him yo find a chance to Summon the staff, especially if he isn't fast at it yet, so he just starts keeping his hands pressed together in preparation.

ooooohhh that's a cool idea!

Anonimo ha chiesto: Where does the Macaque has white fur head canon come from? I'm new to this fandom and I'm still learning things and I see it everywhere

I honestly have no idea but I guess either because Japanese Macaque are white furred or bc he died.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Ok so this may be a sensitive topic and definitely doesn't need to be answered so TW Did mk ever go through a depression thing after trying to die to save the universe in the last season in your au? A in like what if Wukong and Mac find out he used to SH?

hish. I'm not probably the right person to answer this. Probably he did had depression tendencies but didn't recognize them until someone pointed them out.

Anonimo ha chiesto: This ask os Going to be a little weird But Can I See Macaque Pining Wukong on the wall?In a Flirty way?(pretty Please?) I love Your Art so much!👑❤️‍🔥💎

Ouh.. *cleans forehead from sweat* is getting hot in here... maybe?

@autism-autobot ha chiesto: Wukong: OH BUDDHA, HE CALLED ME BABA!!!!! (SCREAMS WITH JOY) What DBK heard over the phone with his brother: OH andhdbrjjsm (feral monkey screeching)

Poor DBK gotta deal with the gossip now

@alastair-1205 ha chiesto: OMG THE MOST RECENT PART IM CRYING But I also love how Mac's first instinct is just grabbing Wukong and being like: "get out of hearing range before we freak out, get out of hearing range before we freak out, get out of-" you know? It's very funny but also builds on past comics since they woke MK up last time smth like this happened and I'm just !!!!!

GOTTA MAKE THE BABY SLEEP

@eerieqloss ha chiesto: OSISJJWJSJSJWWN OKAY WAIT SO IS MK GONNA START CALLING THEM MAMA AND BABA INSTEAD OF THEIR NAMES CONTINUALLY OR WAS IT JUST THAT ONE TIME

It wont be a one time!

Anonimo ha chiesto: I hope you are resting as you should Always remember to take your time, rest first, then work, ofc as far as possible 😅. I have a fun question (if you have the time ofc 👉🏻👈🏻): will we see Feral MK again? But you know, like another kind of "demonic learning" that maybe wukong or Mac will teach him to control or see that it's not bad as it looks

For now i want my baby to either be happy or traumatized not angry.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I feel like i remember you asking about happier shadowpeach songs for your playlist, but I can't find the post anymore. But if you're still looking, Livingston's new song Glow reminds me of them and also made me think about the eclipse scenes in the comic.

Several of Livingston's other songs also give me shadowpeach vibes, but I think about them so much that I might just be seeing them everywhere at this point.

Oooh true a lot of his song fits really well!!

Anonimo ha chiesto: This is the only instance where having a kid really did bring a couple together.

TRUE LMAO

Anonimo ha chiesto: Soo...Wukong and Mac in the DBK Palace I have a question in my mind!!!! Actually I hope you to see it and draw it.. if you don't wanna it's okay! What if DBK & PIF flirt with each other or smt like this u know in front of shadowpeach?! They will probably look to each other and then blushing hard

HAHAHHA poor souls they would totally think of wanting to kiss each other but can't because they are emotionally constipated.

#shadowpeach bio parents au #ask box

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bratzkoo · 7 months ago

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operation: laundry love | joshua hong

Author: bratzkoo Pairing: software developer! joshua x reader Genre: fluff, love at first sight Rating: PG-15 Word count: 9.1k~ Warnings/note: requested by a lovely anon!

summary: Joshua Hong falls in love at first sight with you at a laundromat and schemes his way into making you like him back.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @escoupseu , @yanabaaaaaaarysheva , @spnyin , @sousydive , @gyuguys , @gyubakeries

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

Joshua Hong had always considered himself a practical man. At twenty-eight, he had a stable job as a software developer, a tidy apartment, and a cat named Algorithm. His life was as orderly as the code he wrote, each day neatly compartmentalized into routines and habits. Laundry day was no exception—every other Saturday, 2 PM sharp, he'd trudge down to Suds & Bubbles, the local laundromat, with his precisely sorted clothes.

But on this particular Saturday, as Joshua pushed open the glass door of Suds & Bubbles, his well-ordered world tilted on its axis.

The laundromat was busier than usual, probably due to the unseasonably warm weather that had everyone in town suddenly remembering their summer clothes. The air hummed with the whir of washing machines and the occasional beep of a dryer reaching the end of its cycle. The scent of detergent and fabric softener hung thick in the air, mingling with the faint mustiness of old magazines stacked on a nearby table.

Joshua's eyes swept the room, looking for an empty machine. That's when he saw her.

She was standing in front of a washing machine, her brow furrowed in concentration as she examined a shirt with the intensity of a scientist studying a rare specimen. Her hair was piled haphazardly atop her head in what might generously be called a bun, secured with what appeared to be a pencil. She wore oversized sweatpants and a faded t-shirt that proclaimed "I'm not arguing, I'm just explaining why I'm right."

To Joshua, she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

As if sensing his gaze, she looked up, meeting his eyes. For a moment, Joshua forgot how to breathe. Her eyes were warm, like flecked with gold, and crinkled slightly at the corners as if she was perpetually on the verge of laughter.

"Excuse me," she said, her voice snapping Joshua back to reality. "You wouldn't happen to know how to get spaghetti sauce out of a white shirt, would you? I've been staring at this stain for so long, I'm starting to see pasta shapes."

Joshua blinked, his brain scrambling to form a coherent sentence. "I, uh... have you tried pre-treating it?" he managed to stammer out, mentally kicking himself for such a mundane response.

She sighed dramatically, holding up the shirt. "I've pre-treated it, post-treated it, and given it a stern talking-to. Nothing seems to work. I'm beginning to think this shirt has a vendetta against Italian cuisine."

A chuckle escaped Joshua before he could stop it. Her deadpan delivery and the absurdity of the situation broke through his initial panic, and he found himself relaxing slightly.

"Maybe it's more of a Chinese food fan," he offered, surprised by his own attempt at humor.

Her eyes lit up, and she let out a laugh that seemed to bubble up from her toes. "Oh my god, you're right! I should have been feeding it lo mein this whole time. How could I be so culturally insensitive to my own clothing?"

Joshua felt a warmth spread through his chest. He'd made her laugh. He, Joshua Hong, notorious for his dry technical explanations and inability to remember punchlines, had made this gorgeous, funny woman laugh.

"I'm Y/N, by the way," she said, extending her hand. "Y/N L/N, destroyer of shirts and apparent oppressor of Italian-American textiles."

"Joshua," he replied, taking her hand. Her skin was soft, and he had to resist the urge to hold on longer than socially acceptable. "Joshua Hong, software developer and... uh, laundry doer."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking into a smirk. "Laundry doer? Is that the technical term?"

Joshua felt heat creep up his neck. "Well, I... I mean, I'm not a professional or anything. Just a guy who, you know, does laundry. Sometimes. Well, every two weeks, actually. It's kind of a schedule thing, and—" He cut himself off, realizing he was rambling. "Sorry, I'm not usually this..." He gestured vaguely, unable to find the right word.

"Articulate?" Y/N supplied helpfully, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

"That's one way to put it," Joshua said, managing a self-deprecating smile.

Y/N's gaze softened. "Hey, no worries. We all have our off days. Although," she added, glancing around the laundromat, "I'm not sure anyone's really on their A-game in a place like this. I mean, look at that guy over there."

Joshua followed her gaze to see a middle-aged man trying to stuff what looked like an entire month’s worth of clothes into a single washing machine.

"I think he's trying to create a black hole of socks and underwear," Y/N stage-whispered. "Should we alert NASA?"

Joshua snorted, then quickly tried to cover it with a cough. He wasn't used to finding things genuinely funny, especially not in a laundromat of all places. But something about Y/N's observations and the way she delivered them with such casual humor was infectious.

"Maybe he's conducting an experiment on the compression capabilities of cotton blend fabrics," Joshua found himself saying.

Y/N's eyes widened in mock seriousness. "Of course! How could we have missed it? Clearly, we're witnessing groundbreaking laundry science in action."

They both burst into laughter, drawing curious glances from other patrons. Joshua felt a mix of exhilaration and embarrassment. He wasn't used to being the center of attention, but with Y/N, it somehow felt... right.

"So, Joshua the Laundry Doer," Y/N said once their laughter had subsided, "since you're clearly an expert in all things wash and fold, any other tips for a hapless stain-battler like myself?"

Joshua's mind raced. This was his chance to impress her, to show off his knowledge. But as he opened his mouth to launch into a detailed explanation of stain-removal techniques, he caught sight of the playful glint in her eye. She wasn't really looking for a lecture on laundry. She was teasing him, keeping the banter going.

For a moment, panic threatened to overwhelm him. He wasn't good at this kind of thing. Flirting, joking around—it wasn't in his usual repertoire. But something about Y/N made him want to try.

"Well," he said, affecting a serious tone, "as a certified laundry professional—"

"Oh, you're certified now?" Y/N interjected, raising an eyebrow.

"Absolutely. I have a degree in Sock Pairing from the prestigious University of Wash and Tumble Dry."

Y/N gasped dramatically. "I've heard of that place! Isn't their mascot the Fighting Lint Roller?"

Joshua felt a grin spreading across his face. He was doing it. He was actually engaging in witty banter. With a beautiful woman. In a laundromat. If his friends could see him now, they'd never believe it.

"That's the one," he confirmed. "Our battle cry is 'We'll press your buttons!'"

Y/N doubled over laughing, clutching her sides. "Oh my god, stop," she wheezed. "I can't breathe!"

Joshua felt a surge of pride. He'd done that. He'd made her laugh so hard she could barely breathe. It was a heady feeling, one he wanted to experience again and again.

As Y/N's laughter subsided, she wiped a tear from her eye. "Oh, man. I haven't laughed like that in ages. You, Joshua Hong, are dangerously funny. They should put a warning label on you."

Joshua felt his cheeks heat up at the compliment. "I, uh, thanks. You're pretty funny yourself."

Y/N waved a hand dismissively. "Nah, I just state the obvious. The world's a pretty ridiculous place if you pay attention." She glanced down at the shirt in her hand, then back at Joshua. "Speaking of ridiculous, I should probably actually try to wash this thing before it becomes sentient and decides to take over my wardrobe."

"Right, of course," Joshua said, suddenly remembering why they were both there in the first place. He glanced around, spotting an empty washing machine a few feet away. "There's a free machine over there if you need one."

Y/N followed his gaze and grinned. "My hero! Saving me from the horrors of waiting for a free washer. Truly, your laundry powers know no bounds."

As they walked over to the empty machine, Joshua felt a mix of emotions swirling in his chest. He was elated at having met Y/N, at the easy way they'd fallen into conversation. But there was also a twinge of sadness. Once she started her laundry, she'd probably go sit down, maybe read a book or play on her phone like most people did. Their interaction would be over, just a brief, bright moment in an otherwise ordinary day.

Y/N opened the washing machine and started loading her clothes, chattering away as she did so. "You know, I've always wondered why they make these things so deep. Are they expecting us to wash a family of four's entire wardrobe in one go? Or maybe it's for people who only do laundry once a year and need to fit everything they own in here."

Joshua chuckled, leaning against the adjacent machine. "Maybe it's in case you need to hide from the Laundry Police."

Y/N paused in her loading, a pair of jeans dangling from her hand as she turned to look at him. "The Laundry Police?"

"Oh, you know," Joshua said, warming to his theme, "they patrol laundromats, making sure no one's mixing their colors and whites. Very strict about fabric softener usage too."

A slow grin spread across Y/N's face. "Let me guess, their motto is 'To protect and pre-treat'?"

"Exactly!" Joshua exclaimed, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. He quickly tried to rein in his excitement, reminding himself that he was supposed to be playing it cool. "I mean, uh, yeah. Something like that."

Y/N's expression softened, and she tilted her head slightly as she looked at him. For a moment, Joshua thought he saw something in her eyes—a flicker of interest, maybe? But before he could analyze it further, she turned back to her laundry.

"Well, in that case, I'd better be extra careful," she said, her tone light. "I'd hate to get arrested for improper sock sorting."

As Y/N finished loading her clothes and closed the washing machine door, Joshua realized with a start that he hadn't even begun to do his own laundry. He'd been so caught up in talking to Y/N that he'd completely forgotten why he was there in the first place.

"Oh, shoot," he muttered, glancing around for another empty machine.

"Everything okay?" Y/N asked, pausing with her hand on the detergent dispenser.

"Yeah, just... I kind of forgot to actually start my own laundry," Joshua admitted, feeling his cheeks heat up again.

Y/N's eyes crinkled with amusement. "The laundry expert forgot to do his laundry? Oh, how the mighty have fallen."

Joshua ran a hand through his hair, chuckling despite his embarrassment. "I guess I got a little distracted."

Something flickered in Y/N's eyes at that, but it was gone so quickly Joshua wasn't sure if he'd imagined it. She glanced around the laundromat, then pointed to a machine in the corner. "There's one over there if you want to get started. Unless..." She hesitated for a moment, then continued, "Unless you want to share? I've got plenty of room in here, and it'll save you some quarters."

Joshua's heart leapt at the suggestion. Sharing a machine meant they'd have a reason to stay together, to keep talking. But he didn't want to seem too eager.

"Are you sure?" he asked, trying to keep his voice casual. "I wouldn't want to impose."

Y/N rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Please, it's a washing machine, not a kidney. Besides," she added with a wink, "I could use someone to protect me if the Laundry Police show up."

And just like that, Joshua's resolve to play it cool crumbled. He grinned, already reaching for his laundry bag. "Well, when you put it like that, how can I refuse?"

As they loaded their clothes into the machine together, their hands occasionally brushing, Joshua felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the humid laundromat air. He snuck glances at Y/N, taking in the way she hummed softly to herself as she worked, the little furrow that appeared between her brows when she concentrated on measuring the detergent.

Y/N caught him looking and raised an eyebrow. "What? Do I have detergent on my face or something?"

"No, no," Joshua said quickly. "I was just... thinking."

"Dangerous pastime," Y/N quipped.

"I know," Joshua replied automatically, then blinked in surprise. "Wait, did you just quote 'Beauty and the Beast'?"

Y/N's face lit up. "You caught that? Most people miss it!"

"Are you kidding? It's only one of the best Disney movies ever made," Joshua said, his usual reserve forgotten in his enthusiasm.

"Agreed!" Y/N exclaimed. "Talking furniture, a library to die for, and a heroine who's more interested in books than boys? Sign me up!"

As they finished loading the machine and Y/N started the cycle, Joshua felt a sense of contentment wash over him. Here he was, doing something as mundane as laundry, and yet he couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed himself this much.

Y/N turned to him, a mischievous glint in her eye. "So, Laundry Master, what do you usually do while waiting for your clothes to wash? Let me guess, you have a special meditation technique for achieving perfect fabric softness?"

Joshua laughed, shaking his head. "Nothing so exciting, I'm afraid. Usually, I just sit and work on my laptop or read a book."

"Ah, a man of simple pleasures," Y/N nodded sagely. "Well, how about we shake things up a bit? I've got a deck of cards in my bag. Fancy a game? I warn you though, I'm undefeated in Go Fish."

"Go Fish? Really?" Joshua asked, amused.

Y/N shrugged, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "What can I say? I'm a woman of sophisticated tastes."

As Y/N rummaged in her bag for the cards, Joshua marveled at the turn his day had taken. He'd come here expecting nothing more than clean clothes and maybe a chance to catch up on some work. Instead, he'd met Y/N—funny, beautiful, ridiculous Y/N—and now he was about to play Go Fish in a laundromat like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Y/N triumphantly produced a battered deck of cards from her bag. "Aha! Prepare to be thoroughly trounced, Joshua Hong. Your laundry expertise won't save you now!"

As they settled into a game, the rhythmic tumble of the washing machine providing a soothing backdrop, Joshua couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, his orderly life could use a little chaos. And if that chaos came in the form of a beautiful woman with a penchant for terrible puns and children's card games, well... he was more than okay with that.

It was, he decided, the best laundry day ever.

Joshua Hong had never considered himself a schemer. In fact, he prided himself on his straightforward nature. But as he sat in his apartment the day after his fateful meeting with Y/N, he found himself plotting like a character in one of those romantic comedies his sister was always trying to get him to watch.

"Okay, Algorithm," he said to his cat, who was perched on the arm of the couch, watching him with typical feline indifference. "We need a plan."

Algorithm yawned in response.

"Thanks for the enthusiasm," Joshua muttered. He pulled out a notebook and began to scribble furiously. "Step one: Figure out Y/N's laundry schedule."

He tapped his pen against his chin, thinking. "She mentioned she usually does laundry on Saturdays, but not every week. So maybe... every other week? Or possibly every third week?"

Algorithm meowed and jumped off the couch, apparently bored with Joshua's romantic strategizing.

"You're right," Joshua sighed. "I'm overthinking this. I'll just have to stake out the laundromat every Saturday for a while. That's totally normal and not creepy at all, right?"

Silence greeted his question.

"Right," he answered himself. "Perfectly normal."

And so began Operation Laundry Love, as Joshua had dubbed it in his head (though he'd die before admitting that to anyone else).

The next Saturday, Joshua found himself at Suds & Bubbles, a bag of laundry in hand despite having done his washing just the week before. He'd had to dig into his "emergency clothes" drawer to have enough to justify a trip.

As he pushed open the door, his heart sank. No Y/N. The laundromat was occupied by the usual Saturday crowd: a harried-looking mother with three small children, an elderly man reading a newspaper, and a college student who appeared to be using the dryer as a makeshift desk for her laptop.

Joshua sighed and resigned himself to actually doing his unnecessary laundry. As he loaded his clothes into the machine, he couldn't help but smile, remembering how he and Y/N had shared a washer the week before.

"You look happy for someone doing laundry," a voice behind him said.

Joshua whirled around, his heart leaping into his throat. But it wasn't Y/N. Instead, he found himself face-to-face with the elderly man, who had set aside his newspaper and was now regarding Joshua with amusement.

"Oh, uh, I just... really like clean clothes?" Joshua offered weakly.

The old man chuckled. "Son, I've been coming to this laundromat for thirty years, and I've never seen anyone smile like that over a washing machine. Unless..." His eyes twinkled mischievously. "You wouldn't happen to be waiting for someone, would you?"

Joshua felt heat creep up his neck. "What? No, I'm just... doing laundry. Like normal. Because it's a normal thing to do. Normally."

"Mm-hmm," the old man nodded, clearly unconvinced. "Well, I hope your 'normal laundry' shows up soon."

As the man shuffled back to his seat, Joshua groaned internally. Was he really that transparent?

The answer, as it turned out over the next few weeks, was a resounding yes.

Every Saturday, Joshua found himself at Suds & Bubbles, armed with increasingly creative excuses for why he suddenly needed to do laundry so frequently.

"I spilled an entire pot of spaghetti sauce on myself," he told the amused attendant one week.

"My cat decided my closet was his new litter box," he explained to the harried mother the next.

By the fourth Saturday, he'd run out of plausible excuses and was seriously considering actually spilling something on all his clothes just to justify his presence.

It was on this fourth Saturday, as Joshua was contemplating the merits of "accidentally" upending a bottle of ketchup on himself, that the bell above the door chimed. He looked up, more out of habit than hope at this point, and nearly dropped the detergent he was holding.

There, silhouetted in the doorway like some laundry-bearing angel, was Y/N.

She was wearing faded jeans and a t-shirt that proclaimed "I'm not procrastinating, I'm doing side quests," her hair once again in its chaotic bun. To Joshua, she had never looked more beautiful.

Y/N spotted him almost immediately, her face breaking into a grin. "Well, well, well," she said, sauntering over. "If it isn't the Laundry Master himself. We've got to stop meeting like this, people will talk."

Joshua, who had been mentally rehearsing casual greetings for weeks, found himself suddenly tongue-tied. "I, uh... hi," he managed.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Wow, they really should put a warning label on you. 'Caution: Excessive wit may cause spontaneous combustion.'"

That broke through Joshua's panic, and he felt a grin tugging at his lips. "Sorry, I left my witty retorts in my other pants. I'm here to wash them."

Y/N laughed, the sound cutting through the monotonous hum of the washing machines. "There he is! I was worried the Laundry Police had gotten to you and stolen your sense of humor."

"Nah, they just put it through the spin cycle. It's a little dizzy, but intact."

"Oh, good," Y/N nodded seriously. "A dizzy sense of humor is a small price to pay for clean clothes and freedom from laundry-based tyranny."

As they bantered, Joshua felt the tension leaving his shoulders. This was why he'd been coming back week after week, enduring knowing looks from the regulars and inventing increasingly ridiculous laundry emergencies. Not just because Y/N was beautiful (though she absolutely was), but because talking to her felt as natural as breathing.

"So," Y/N said as she started loading her laundry into a machine, "do you always do your laundry on Saturdays, or am I just lucky enough to catch you during your weekly sock-sorting séance?"

Joshua froze for a split second. This was it, the moment of truth. He could confess that he'd been coming here every week in the hopes of seeing her again. Or...

"Oh, you know," he said, aiming for casual and probably overshooting into 'trying way too hard to sound casual', "laundry emergencies wait for no man. Or woman. Or... person of any gender, really."

Y/N's eyes narrowed slightly, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Laundry emergencies, huh? Sounds serious. What was it this time? Rogue red sock in with the whites? Denim uprising?"

"Actually," Joshua said, warming to his theme, "it was a catastrophic coffee spill. My entire wardrobe now smells like a coffee shop."

Y/N nodded solemnly. "Ah, yes. The dreaded Cappucino Fiasco. I've seen it claim many a good outfit. You were wise to seek help immediately."

As they continued to load their respective machines, Joshua marveled at how easy it was to fall into rhythm with Y/N. They moved around each other seamlessly, passing detergent and fabric softener back and forth without a word, as if they'd been doing this dance for years instead of having met only a few weeks ago.

"So," Y/N said as she closed the door of her washing machine with a flourish, "what's your strategy for killing time while the laundry gods work their magic? Please tell me it's more exciting than last time. If you pull out a deck of cards again, I might have to report you to the Fun Police."

Joshua grinned. "I'll have you know that Go Fish is a game of intense strategy and skill."

"Uh-huh," Y/N nodded, clearly unconvinced. "And I'm the Queen of Sheba."

"Your Majesty," Joshua said with an exaggerated bow.

Y/N laughed, then grabbed his arm and started pulling him towards the door. "Come on, Laundry Boy. There's a coffee shop next door that does a mean latte. I think we can risk leaving our clothes unattended for a few minutes. Unless you're worried the Sock Gnomes will strike?"

Joshua allowed himself to be led, his arm tingling where Y/N was touching it. "Sock Gnomes are no laughing matter," he said seriously. "They're a menace to matched pairs everywhere."

The coffee shop, as it turned out, was a tiny hole-in-the-wall place that looked like it had been decorated by someone's eccentric grandmother. Mismatched chairs surrounded wobbly tables, and the walls were covered in a truly bewildering array of artwork, ranging from serene landscapes to what appeared to be a portrait of a cat dressed as Napoleon.

"Wow," Joshua said as they entered, the scent of coffee and freshly baked pastries enveloping them. "This place is..."

"A glorious affront to interior design?" Y/N supplied helpfully.

"I was going to say 'unique', but yeah, that works too."

They ordered their drinks - a simple black coffee for Joshua and something that sounded more like a dessert than a beverage for Y/N - and settled at a table in the corner. The chair Joshua sat in promptly made an ominous creaking sound.

"Don't worry," Y/N said, noticing his concerned look. "If it collapses, I promise to laugh only a little before calling for help."

"Your kindness knows no bounds," Joshua deadpanned.

As they sipped their drinks, the conversation flowed as easily as it had in the laundromat. They discovered a shared love of terrible puns, a mutual disdain for people who talk in movie theaters, and a surprising amount of overlap in their taste in music.

"No way," Y/N said, her eyes wide. "You like The Microphones too? I thought I was the only person under 40 who'd heard of them!"

Joshua nodded enthusiastically. "They're amazing! 'The Glow Pt. 2' is one of my all-time favorite albums."

"Okay, that settles it," Y/N declared. "We're officially friends now. I don't make the rules."

Joshua felt a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the coffee. "Friends, huh? Do I get a membership card or something?"

"Better," Y/N grinned. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a slightly squashed packet of gum. With great ceremony, she extracted a piece and presented it to Joshua. "I hereby bestow upon you the Gum of Friendship. Guard it well."

Joshua accepted the gum with equal solemnity. "I shall treasure it always," he vowed, then promptly unwrapped it and popped it in his mouth.

Y/N gasped in mock horror. "The sacred Gum of Friendship! You've destroyed it!"

"I'm savoring our friendship," Joshua countered. "It's minty fresh."

They dissolved into laughter, earning curious looks from the other patrons. Joshua couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed this much. Being with Y/N was like being caught in the best kind of whirlwind - exhilarating, unpredictable, and utterly delightful.

As their laughter subsided, Y/N glanced at her watch and yelped. "Oh shoot, our laundry! We've been here for almost an hour!"

They hurried back to the laundromat, half-expecting to find their clothes strewn across the floor or absconded with by the mythical Sock Gnomes. But everything was just as they'd left it, their machines humming away peacefully.

"Crisis averted," Y/N sighed dramatically. "Though I have to say, part of me was looking forward to staging a daring rescue mission for our captured clothes."

Joshua grinned. "Maybe next time. I'll bring my laundry-themed superhero costume."

"Oh? And what would that look like?" Y/N asked, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Well, obviously a cape made of dryer sheets," Joshua began, warming to the ridiculous idea. "A utility belt stocked with stain removers for every occasion. Oh, and a mask that looks like one of those mesh laundry bags."

Y/N nodded approvingly. "Don't forget the catchphrase. Every good superhero needs a catchphrase."

"How about... 'It's time to clean up this mess!'" Joshua suggested, lowering his voice to a gravelly superhero register.

Y/N burst out laughing. "Perfect! Watch out, evil-doers. The Laundry Avenger is here to take you to the cleaners!"

As they continued to riff on increasingly absurd laundry-themed superhero ideas, Joshua marveled at how comfortable he felt. Usually, prolonged social interaction left him drained, but with Y/N, he felt energized, like he could keep talking for hours.

All too soon, their laundry was done, and they found themselves standing outside Suds & Bubbles, clean clothes in hand.

"Well," Y/N said, shifting her laundry bag to her other shoulder, "this was fun. Who knew doing laundry could be such an adventure?"

Joshua nodded, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. He didn't want this to end. "Yeah, it was great. Maybe we could, uh..." He trailed off, suddenly unsure.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

Joshua took a deep breath. It was now or never. "Maybe we could do this again sometime? The laundry thing, I mean. And the coffee. Or, you know, just hanging out. If you want."

Y/N's face broke into a wide grin. "Joshua Hong, are you asking me on a laundry date?"

"Maybe?" Joshua said, then, gathering his courage, "Yes. Yes, I am."

"Well, in that case," Y/N said, pretending to consider it seriously, "I suppose I could pencil you in for my next laundry day. Someone's got to make sure you don't fall victim to the Sock Gnomes, after all."

Joshua felt like his heart might burst. "It's a date. A laundry date."

As they parted ways, Joshua couldn't keep the grin off his face. He'd done it. He'd successfully engineered an "accidental" meeting, and even better, he'd secured another one.

Operation Laundry Love, he decided, was a resounding success.

Little did he know, Y/N was walking away with a similar grin on her face, thinking to herself, "I wonder if he realizes I don't usually do my laundry on Saturdays?"

But that, as they say, is a story for another load of laundry.

The next few weeks passed in a blur of laundry detergent, coffee dates, and increasingly elaborate excuses for Joshua's constant presence at Suds & Bubbles. He had become something of a legend among the regular patrons, who watched his blossoming relationship with Y/N with the rapt attention usually reserved for soap operas.

"What's the crisis this week, son?" Mr. Jenkins, the elderly man who had first caught onto Joshua's scheme, asked one Saturday.

Joshua, who had just arrived and was scanning the laundromat for any sign of Y/N, startled at the question. "Oh, uh... paint," he said, grabbing wildly at the first excuse that came to mind. "Lots of paint. Everywhere. I'm thinking of taking up abstract expressionism."

Mr. Jenkins nodded sagely. "Ah, yes. A noble pursuit. Though I must say, your clothes look remarkably clean for someone covered in paint."

Joshua glanced down at his spotless jeans and t-shirt, realizing his mistake too late. "I... changed before coming here?"

"Of course, of course," Mr. Jenkins said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "And I'm sure it has nothing to do with the charming young lady you've been meeting here every week."

Before Joshua could stammer out a response, the bell above the door chimed. He turned, his heart doing its now-familiar leap as Y/N walked in.

She was wearing a sundress today, her hair for once free of its usual chaotic bun and falling in waves around her shoulders. Joshua felt his breath catch in his throat.

Y/N spotted him and grinned, making her way over. "Well, if it isn't my favorite laundry buddy," she said. "What's the disaster today? Attacked by a rogue sprinkler system? Fell into a vat of maple syrup?"

Joshua, still a bit dazed by her appearance, blurted out, "Paint."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Paint?"

"Uh, yeah," Joshua said, committing to the lie. "I'm taking up abstract expressionism."

Y/N's eyes lit up with mischief. "Oh really? And here I thought you were more of a performance art kind of guy. You know, the kind where you keep showing up at a laundromat week after week, pretending to have laundry emergencies."

Joshua felt his face heat up. "I... what? No, I just... I mean..."

Y/N laughed, the sound bright and clear in the humming atmosphere of the laundromat. "Relax, Joshua. I'm just teasing. Though I have to admit, I am curious about this sudden interest in art. Care to elaborate while we wait for our clothes to wash?"

Still a bit flustered, Joshua nodded. As they loaded their machines (Joshua had actually brought laundry this time, having run out of clean clothes due to his frequent "emergencies"), he found himself spinning an increasingly complex tale about his newfound passion for abstract art.

"So there I was," he said, warming to his theme, "staring at this blank canvas, when suddenly I was struck by inspiration. I grabbed the nearest paint can and just... let loose."

Y/N nodded solemnly. "As one does. And the paint just happened to get all over your clothes in the process?"

"Exactly!" Joshua said, relieved that she seemed to be buying it. "You know how it is with artistic passion. Sometimes you just can't contain it."

"Mm-hmm," Y/N hummed, her eyes sparkling with barely contained laughter. "And what, pray tell, was the subject of this masterpiece?"

Joshua, who knew about as much about art as he did about deep-sea fishing, panicked. "It was... a commentary on the existential dread of modern laundry practices?"

There was a beat of silence, and then Y/N burst out laughing. "Oh my god," she wheezed, clutching her sides. "That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard, and I love it. Please tell me you're going to display this masterpiece in a gallery. I would pay good money to see a painting about the existential dread of laundry."

Joshua, realizing he'd been caught out, couldn't help but join in her laughter. "Alright, alright," he admitted once they'd both calmed down a bit. "I may have exaggerated the paint situation a tiny bit."

"A tiny bit?" Y/N asked, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. "Joshua Hong, I do believe you've been telling me tall tales. I'm shocked. Shocked and appalled."

"Would it help if I said I was inspired by your artistic influence?" Joshua offered, grinning.

Y/N pretended to consider this. "Hmm, flattery will get you everywhere. But I think you owe me a coffee for this blatant deception. And maybe a painting about laundry-based existential dread."

"Deal," Joshua said, relieved that she seemed more amused than annoyed by his fib. "Though I warn you, my artistic skills are limited to stick figures and the occasional smiley face."

"Perfect," Y/N declared. "I expect nothing less than a masterpiece of stick figure angst surrounded by washing machines. You have one week to deliver, Mr. Hong."

As they made their way to what had become their usual table at the coffee shop next door, Joshua marveled at how comfortable he felt with Y/N. The nervousness that had plagued him during their first few meetings had given way to an easy camaraderie, punctuated by their shared love of terrible jokes and pop culture references.

"So," Y/N said once they were settled with their drinks (a simple latte for Joshua, and something that seemed to consist mostly of whipped cream and caramel for Y/N), "now that we've established your budding career as an abstract expressionist, what's really been going on with you this week?"

Joshua, caught off guard by the sincere question, found himself answering honestly. "Oh, you know, the usual. Work's been pretty hectic. We're launching a new software update next month, so everyone's been pulling long hours."

Y/N nodded sympathetically. "Sounds stressful. Is that why you've been coming to the laundromat so often? Blowing off steam by cleaning your clothes?"

There was something in her tone, a hint of... what? Hope? Curiosity? Joshua couldn't quite place it, but it made his heart rate pick up.

"Well, that's part of it," he admitted, deciding to take a risk. "But mostly... I've been hoping to run into you."

Y/N's eyes widened slightly, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "Oh," she said softly. Then, a smile spreading across her face, "You know, you could have just asked for my number. It would have saved you a fortune in quarters."

Joshua groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I know, I know. I just... I wasn't sure if you'd want to hang out outside of our laundry days. And then it became this whole thing, and I didn't know how to bring it up without sounding like a complete weirdo."

Y/N reached across the table, gently pulling his hands away from his face. "Joshua," she said, her voice warm with affection, "you are a complete weirdo. But you're my kind of weirdo."

Joshua felt a surge of warmth in his chest. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Y/N confirmed. "Now, are you going to ask for my number like a normal person, or do I need to write it on a dryer sheet and hide it in your laundry?"

Laughing, Joshua pulled out his phone. As they exchanged numbers, he felt as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. No more elaborate excuses, no more anxiously waiting at the laundromat hoping Y/N would show up.

"So," he said once their numbers were safely stored in each other's phones, "now that we've entered the digital age, what do you want to do for our next non-laundry related hangout?"

Y/N's eyes lit up. "Oh, I have the perfect idea! There's this new escape room place that just opened up downtown. The theme is... wait for it... a haunted laundromat!"

Joshua blinked. "You're kidding."

"Nope!" Y/N said, grinning. "It's called 'Spin Cycle of Terror.' Apparently, you have to solve puzzles related to missing socks, detergent bottle clues, and a vengeful dryer spirit. It's supposed to be hilariously bad."

"That sounds absolutely terrible," Joshua said. Then, unable to keep the smile off his face, "When do we go?"

Y/N clapped her hands in excitement. "I knew you'd be up for it! How about next Saturday? Unless you have another painting emergency, of course."

"I think I can clear my schedule," Joshua said dryly. "Though I may need to stock up on laundry-themed good luck charms. You never know when a vengeful dryer spirit might strike."

As they continued to chat, making plans for their upcoming escape room adventure, Joshua found himself marveling at the turn his life had taken. A month ago, he would never have imagined himself looking forward to a cheesy haunted laundromat experience. But with Y/N, even the most ridiculous activities seemed like the best way to spend an evening.

The week leading up to their escape room date (and Joshua's heart did a little flip every time he thought of it as a date) passed in a flurry of text messages. Y/N, it turned out, was a prolific texter, sending Joshua everything from random song lyrics to photos of particularly interesting clouds to long, rambling messages about her day.

Joshua, who had never been much for texting, found himself eagerly checking his phone at every opportunity, just in case Y/N had sent something new.

"Dude, what's got you so smiley?" his coworker, Hoshi's, asked one day after catching Joshua grinning at his phone for the third time in an hour.

"Oh, uh, nothing," Joshua said, hastily putting his phone away. "Just... a funny meme."

Hoshi's raised an eyebrow. "A funny meme that's been making you check your phone every five minutes for the past week? Come on, spill. You've met someone, haven't you?"

Joshua felt his face heat up. "Maybe," he admitted.

Hoshi's whooped, drawing curious glances from their other coworkers. "I knew it! Our little Joshua is all grown up and in love. So, who's the lucky lady? Or gentleman? Or non-binary individual?"

"Her name is Y/N," Joshua said, unable to keep the smile off his face. "We met at the laundromat."

Hoshi's's eyebrows shot up. "The laundromat? Seriously? Man, and here I thought all those cheesy rom-coms were lying to us. Good for you, buddy. When do we get to meet her?"

The question caught Joshua off guard. He and Y/N had been in their own little bubble for the past few weeks, but the idea of introducing her to his friends and coworkers made everything feel suddenly more real.

"I... don't know," he admitted. "We're still figuring things out."

Hoshi's nodded understandingly. "No pressure, man. Just know that when you're ready, we're all dying to meet the girl who's got you checking your phone like a lovesick teenager."

As Saturday approached, Joshua found himself growing increasingly nervous. This would be their first real date outside of the laundromat and coffee shop. What if things were awkward? What if the easy rapport they'd developed over shared loads of laundry didn't translate to other settings?

By the time Saturday evening rolled around, Joshua was a bundle of nerves. He changed his outfit three times before settling on a simple button-down shirt and jeans, then spent an inordinate amount of time trying to get his hair to cooperate.

"It's just Y/N," he told his reflection, trying to calm his racing heart. "You've seen her elbow-deep in dirty laundry. This is no big deal."

But as he arrived at the address Y/N had sent him, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was, in fact, a very big deal.

The escape room place was tucked between a trendy vegan restaurant and a vintage clothing store. A neon sign proclaimed "Spin Cycle of Terror" in lurid pink letters, complete with a cartoon ghost emerging from a washing machine.

Joshua was so busy staring at the sign, wondering what he'd gotten himself into, that he didn't notice Y/N approaching until she was right beside him.

"Pretty epic, right?" she said, making him jump.

"Y/N! Hi! You... you look great," Joshua stammered, taking in her appearance. She was wearing a dress patterned with tiny washing machines and bubbles, her hair pulled back in a messy bun with what appeared to be a clothespin.

Y/N did a little twirl. "You like? I figured if we're going to face a vengeful dryer spirit, we might as well dress the part."

Joshua laughed, feeling some of his nervousness dissipate. "It's perfect. I feel underdressed now. I should have at least worn a shirt with a sock pattern or something."

"Next time," Y/N said with a wink. "Now come on, we've got some laundry-based puzzles to solve!"

As they entered the escape room, Joshua was hit with a wave of artificial lavender scent. The room was set up to look like the world's most over-the-top laundromat, complete with washing machines that seemed to be made entirely of glitter and dryers that emitted an ominous red glow.

"Welcome to the Spin Cycle of Terror," a bored-looking employee droned, clearly having repeated this speech many times. "You have one hour to solve the mystery of the missing socks and appease the vengeful spirit of Agatha Cleanpress, the laundromat's former owner. Failure to do so will result in you being cursed to fold fitted sheets for all eternity."

"Jokes on them," Y/N whispered to Joshua. "I already can't fold fitted sheets."

Joshua snorted, earning a glare from the employee.

"Your time starts... now," the employee said, hitting a button that started a comically large timer on the wall.

What followed was an hour of the most ridiculous, pun-filled, laundry-themed puzzle-solving Joshua had ever experienced. They deciphered clues hidden in detergent bottles, played a memory game with different types of stains, and even had to perform what the instructions called a "sock puppet séance" to communicate with Agatha's spirit.

Throughout it all, Joshua found himself laughing more than he had in years. Y/N attacked each puzzle with enthusiasm, her running commentary on the increasingly absurd challenges keeping Joshua in stitches.

"Oh come on," she exclaimed at one point, elbow-deep in a bin of mismatched socks. "How is this even a puzzle? This is just my normal laundry experience!"

As the final seconds ticked down, they found themselves facing the last challenge: a riddle that would supposedly reveal the location of Agatha's missing lucky sock and put her spirit to rest.

"I am not alive, but I grow; I don't have lungs, but I need air; I don't have a mouth, but water kills me. What am I?" Y/N read aloud.

They looked at each other, momentarily stumped.

"Not alive but grows... needs air... water kills it," Joshua muttered, running a hand through his hair.

Y/N's eyes suddenly lit up. "Fire!" she exclaimed. "It's fire!"

They looked around frantically, spotting a cardboard fireplace in the corner that they had dismissed earlier as mere set dressing.

Racing over, they found a hidden compartment containing a single, sparkly sock.

"We did it!" Y/N cheered, just as the timer buzzed.

The room was suddenly filled with the sound of canned applause, and a holographic image of a ghostly old woman appeared.

"Congratulations," the 'ghost' said in a voice that sounded suspiciously like the bored employee who had greeted them. "You have solved the mystery and found my lucky sock. You are now free from the curse of eternal fitted sheet folding. Please exit through the gift shop."

As they emerged from the escape room, still high on their victory, Joshua felt a surge of affection for Y/N. Her hair had come partly loose from its bun, her cheeks were flushed with excitement, and she was clutching the sparkly sock they'd been allowed to keep as a souvenir.

"That," Y/N declared, "was the most ridiculously awesome thing I've ever done."

"It really was," Joshua agreed, still grinning. He hesitated for a moment, then added, "You know, I never thought I'd have this much fun pretending to be cursed by a laundromat ghost."

Y/N bumped her shoulder against his playfully. "See? This is why you need me in your life. To introduce you to the wonderful world of laundry-based entertainment."

As they walked out onto the street, the cool evening air a refreshing change from the lavender-scented escape room, Joshua felt a surge of courage.

"Hey," he said, his heart racing, "do you want to grab some dinner? I mean, if you're not sick of me after an hour of sock sorting and ghost appeasing."

Y/N's face lit up. "Are you kidding? After all that excitement, I'm starving. Plus, I think we need to celebrate our victory over Agatha Cleanpress. Any ideas?"

Joshua thought for a moment, then grinned. "Actually, I know just the place. How do you feel about continuing our laundry theme?"

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Color me curious, Mr. Hong. Lead the way!"

Twenty minutes later, they found themselves standing in front of a small, quirky restaurant called "The Soap Suds Café."

"No way," Y/N breathed, taking in the washing machine-shaped menu boards and the waitstaff dressed in what appeared to be high-fashion interpretations of laundromat uniforms. "This is amazing. How did you even know about this place?"

Joshua rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling a bit sheepish. "I, uh, may have done some research on laundry-themed attractions in the area. You know, just in case."

Y/N turned to him, her eyes sparkling with amusement and something else... was that fondness? "Joshua Hong, you continue to surprise me. And here I thought I was the queen of ridiculous themed experiences."

As they were led to their table - a booth made to look like the inside of a front-loading washing machine - Joshua felt a warm glow of satisfaction. He'd managed to impress Y/N, to make her smile that radiant smile that never failed to make his heart skip a beat.

The menu, as it turned out, was just as themed as the decor. Appetizers were listed under "Pre-Wash Cycle," main courses under "Heavy Duty Wash," and desserts under "Fluff and Fold."

"I can't believe this place exists," Y/N said, giggling as she perused the menu. "Oh my god, they have a cocktail called 'Fabric Softener.' I don't know whether to be impressed or terrified."

"Why not both?" Joshua suggested. "I'm leaning towards the 'Spin Cycle Spritzer' myself."

As they ordered their meals (Y/N chose the "Delicate Wash Delight," a surprisingly elegant salad, while Joshua went for the "Heavy Duty Burger"), they fell into easy conversation, recounting their favorite moments from the escape room.

"I still can't believe you managed to untangle that giant knot of sheets so quickly," Y/N said, shaking her head in admiration. "If laundry folding was an Olympic sport, you'd definitely take the gold."

Joshua felt his cheeks warm at the praise. "Well, I had a pretty great partner. Your sock puppet séance was a thing of beauty. I think you might have missed your calling as a laundry medium."

Y/N struck a dramatic pose. "What can I say? The spirits of lost socks speak to me. It's both a gift and a curse."

As their food arrived (served on plates designed to look like old-fashioned washboards), Joshua found himself marveling at how comfortable he felt. Here he was, in a ridiculous laundry-themed restaurant, with a woman he'd met only a few weeks ago, and yet it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

"You know," Y/N said, pausing in her attack on her salad, "I have a confession to make."

Joshua felt a flutter of nervousness in his stomach. "Oh?"

Y/N nodded, a mischievous glint in her eye. "I don't actually do my laundry every Saturday."

Joshua blinked, processing this information. "You... don't?"

"Nope," Y/N said, popping the 'p'. "I usually do it on Sundays. But after we met that first time, I started coming on Saturdays. You know, just in case a certain software developer with a penchant for laundry emergencies happened to show up."

Joshua felt his jaw drop. "You mean... all this time..."

Y/N grinned. "Yep. Looks like we were both playing the 'accidental' meeting game. Although I have to say, your excuses were way more creative than mine. I just pretended to have a very messy lifestyle."

For a moment, Joshua was speechless. Then, he burst out laughing. "I can't believe it," he managed between chuckles. "Here I was, thinking I was being so clever."

Y/N joined in his laughter. "Hey, you were! I was impressed by your dedication. The paint excuse was particularly inspired."

As their laughter subsided, Joshua felt a wave of affection wash over him. "You know," he said softly, "you could have just asked for my number too."

Y/N's smile turned a bit shy. "I know. But where's the fun in that? Besides, I kind of liked our laundry day meetups. They were... special."

Joshua nodded, understanding completely. There was something magical about those Saturdays, something that might have been lost if they'd rushed into regular dating too quickly.

"Well," he said, raising his 'Spin Cycle Spritzer', "here's to laundry emergencies, escape rooms, and ridiculously themed restaurants."

Y/N clinked her 'Fabric Softener' against his glass. "And to new beginnings that smell like lavender detergent."

As they continued their meal, the conversation flowed easily from topic to topic. They discovered a shared love of obscure indie bands, debated the merits of various streaming services, and somehow ended up in a heated but good-natured argument about the best way to organize a bookshelf.

"I'm telling you," Y/N insisted, gesturing with a forkful of salad, "organizing by color is the way to go. It's aesthetically pleasing and makes your bookshelf look like a rainbow!"

Joshua shook his head, grinning. "But how do you find anything? What if you can't remember what color the book cover is?"

"That's half the fun!" Y/N exclaimed. "It's like a treasure hunt every time you want to read something."

As Joshua opened his mouth to retort, he was struck by a sudden realization. He could see himself having this exact debate years from now, in a shared apartment, surrounded by a mix of his meticulously organized books and Y/N's color-coded chaos. The thought should have terrified him - Joshua had always been cautious about relationships, preferring the safety of his orderly life. But instead, he felt a warm glow of contentment.

"Earth to Joshua," Y/N's voice broke through his reverie. "You okay there? You looked like you were a million miles away."

Joshua blinked, focusing back on Y/N's concerned face. "Sorry, I just... I was thinking about how much I'm enjoying this. Being here, with you."

Y/N's expression softened. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Joshua confirmed. Then, gathering his courage, he reached across the table and took her hand. "I really like you, Y/N. And not just because you make laundry day the highlight of my week."

Y/N turned her hand in his, interlacing their fingers. "I really like you too, Joshua. Even if you do have terrible ideas about bookshelf organization."

They shared a laugh, the tension of the moment breaking into something warm and comfortable.

As they finished their meal and stepped out into the cool night air, Joshua felt a sense of possibility that he hadn't experienced in years. Whatever this thing was between him and Y/N, wherever it might lead, he knew one thing for certain: his life would never be the same.

"So," Y/N said as they walked, their hands still linked, "same time next week at the laundromat?"

Joshua pretended to consider this. "I don't know, I might be busy. You know, with all my abstract expressionist paintings and laundry emergencies."

Y/N nudged him playfully. "Come on, I'll even let you borrow my lucky sock."

"Well, when you put it that way, how can I refuse?" Joshua said, grinning. Then, more seriously, "Although, maybe we could meet somewhere that doesn't involve washing machines next time? Not that I don't love our laundry adventures, but..."

"But it might be nice to see each other in a setting that doesn't smell like fabric softener?" Y/N finished for him.

"Exactly."

Y/N nodded, a soft smile playing on her lips. "I'd like that. Although I have to warn you, I may not be as charming without the backdrop of spin cycles and dryer sheets."

Joshua squeezed her hand gently. "Somehow, I doubt that."

As they reached the corner where they would have to part ways, Joshua felt a reluctance to let the evening end. "So, um, I'll text you? About our next non-laundry related hangout?"

Y/N nodded, her eyes twinkling. "You better. And who knows? If you play your cards right, I might even show you my color-coded bookshelf someday."

"I look forward to it," Joshua said, meaning it more than he'd ever meant anything in his life.

They stood there for a moment, neither wanting to be the first to say goodbye. Then, in a move that surprised even himself, Joshua leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Y/N's cheek.

"Goodnight, Y/N," he said softly as he pulled back, his heart racing.

Y/N's cheeks were flushed, but she was smiling wider than ever. "Goodnight, Joshua. Thanks for a wonderful evening."

As Joshua watched Y/N walk away, he touched his lips, still feeling the warmth of her cheek against them. He had come a long way from the man who had walked into Suds & Bubbles a few weeks ago, his life as orderly and predictable as his laundry routine.

Now, as he made his way home, Joshua felt as though his world had been turned upside down in the best possible way. His thoughts were a whirlwind of escape rooms and laundry puns, of shared laughter and intertwined fingers.

One thing was certain: Joshua Hong was falling, and falling hard. And for once in his life, he was perfectly happy to let the cycle run its course.

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takamimami · 7 months ago

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Hi hi! Congrats on reaching the much deserved milestone! 🥳🥳🥳 here’s to much more success and followers reading your great great amazing fics!!!

I humbly request Eustass Kid x f!reader and “I can make you feel better” please and thank youuuuuuu!

Ahhhh thank you so much anon :3 Now, I just want you to know that I went a little OVERBOARD with this prompt, its nearly twice as long as all the other requests lol :3 that being said, thank you for this lovely request - and I hope you enjoy the read <3

Kidd x F!Reader - NSFW - “I could make you feel better.” STORY UNDER THE CUT - MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI 🔞 CW: SMUT; sex pollen trope, soft(ish) kidd, he just wants to help you feel better :3, kidd talks you through it, mating press go brrrrr --- word count 2.9k

You’d been rummaging through the drawers of Kidd’s workshop for a good 20 minutes now, your insides feeling like they were on fire as you tried to fight off the burning desire between your legs.

You and Killer had returned from your scouting mission in the nearby forest 3 hours ago, and the entire time you’d been locked in your quarters, alternating through your regular arsenal of toys as you try desperately to satiate the need. You’d brought yourself to tears a few times as you unintentionally edged yourself, your mind unable to settle down and tip over the edge you found yourself at multiple times in the past few hours.

You stopped when the pain settled in, your clit swollen and inflamed from the constant torture. It’d taken you a minute to remember what even happened - how you ended up in this state, and then you smelled the plant on your fingers, the honey-scented residue still lingering as you cursed yourself for making that detrimental mistake.

Killer had only laughed as you swatted the plant away from yourself, the action spreading the pollen further into the air as you breathed it in and immediately felt a tingle in your spine. The sensation gradually worsened and by the time you were back on the ship you were convinced you’d die a slow and torturous death.

It was only after you’d exhausted all your own toys that you slipped on a baggy shirt and sweatpants and crept your way down onto the deck, slipping inside Kidd’s workshop where you knew he housed a fair amount of toys he’d either collected or made throughout the last few years at sea. Every sound outside the door made you flinch as you gathered different toys into your arms, barely paying attention to what you grabbed as you closed the trunk and headed for the door.

As you reached for the handle it began to turn, and your eyes went wide with shock and horror as a full frame filled the doorway, amber eyes meeting yours before dropping to the array of toys in your arm.

“Having a party without me?” He chuckles, and your cheeks flush immediately as he stalks into the workshop and closes the door behind him.

“I… Um… I was just-” you stuttered, trying to hide your mortification as Kidd strolls deeper into the room, sitting down at his workbench and turning to face you with an amused look on his face.

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Y/N,” he chuckles, bringing his arm up and resting it behind his head. You tried not to gawk at the way his chest muscles rippled at the action, your core screaming at you as your eyes trailed down his torso to the lines leading under his waistband. Leave it to him to not have a shirt on at one of the most inopportune moments.

He cleared his throat and your eyes snapped back up to his, blush deepening as you see the devilish grin that has now curled onto his lips.

“Did you need something else, mouse?”

The honey in his voice had you turning on your heels, refusing to let your thoughts go any further as you offer him a feeble ‘thanks’ and disappear back out onto the deck. To your dismay Killer and House are standing a few feet away, the latter offering you a raised brow as you avert your gaze from him, tucking your haul into your shirt as you shuffle towards the stairs and back to your quarters.

It wasn’t until a few hours after dinner that you heard footsteps approaching the door, a gentle knock pulling you from your post-orgasm haze as you shuffle from your spot on your mattress. Your skin was slick with sweat, and you could smell the lingering scent of your arousal permiating in the room as you slipped your shorts back on, leveling your breathing before standing and approaching your door.

“Kil, I’m fine,” you call out through the door, reaching for the handle and swinging it open to find someone else entirely staring back at you.

Kidd’s amber eyes were rounded at the corners as he took in your disheveled appearance, his eyes unabashedly raking over your body and hovering over the peaks of your nipples that poked through the thin fabric of your tank top.

You cross your arms over your chest and Kidd’s eyes snap back up, his cheeks tinted a shade of pink as he clears his throat before speaking. “Killer filled me in on your… predicament. I… wanted to come check on you, see if you were alright.”

You took a step further out of your room and shut the door behind you, not wanting the musky scent to seep out into the hall. You kept your voice low as you answered him, keeping your eyes trained on his as you spoke.

“I’m… fine, I guess,” you mumble, noting that he was still shirtless as he stood before you, causing your mouth to go dry. “Just… hoping it passes soon, ya know?”

Kidd nods in understanding, running his fingers through his hair and letting it fall back over his forehead, his goggles that usually held it up no where in sight.

“Do you… need anything?”

The question was awkward, but you knew there was good intent behind it. If you answered him honestly, it would risk crossing that thin line you had been constantly tip-toeing around with him for months, so you shrugged off his question and opted for humour to break the tension.

“A magic antidote would probably make me feel better,” you muse, unsure if anything of the sort even exists.

Kidd smirks and cocks his brow at your comment, licking his lips as he leans toward you ever so slightly.

“Fresh out of those, mouse,” he croons, his voice dropping an octave as he swipes his tongue over his lips again, your eyes watching the movement and feeling the familiar need pool in your aching core once again. “But I can think of something else that might help.”

Its your turn to quirk a brow at him, this time licking your own lips at the image that began flashing through your mind of Kidd’s head between your thighs - amber eyes gleaming up at you as you ride his face to oblivion.

You feel your thighs squeeze together as the painful throbbing between your legs returns, and you swallow down a wince as you find your voice again.

“And what exactly do you have in mind?”

A flash of surprise flashes over Kidd’s face, but its gone in an instant as he returns to his signature unamused glare as he speaks again.

“I could… help you. I could make you feel better - offer you some… relief.”

It took all the might within you not to pounce on him at the suggestion, your nostrils flaring as you think about his hard body pressed up against yours.

Your body betrays your attempt at remaining unfazed by his words, your nipples hardening to painful peaks under your top again, and Kidd doesn’t miss the subtle shift in your stance as you cross one of your legs over the other.

Unable to speak, you turn and open the door to your room, leaving it open for him as you disappear into the darkness inside. Kidd follows behind you, biting down on his lip as he takes in the array of his toys scattered on the floor along the edge of your bed.

Sensing your hesitation as you turn to face him, Kidd walks over to you and grabs your hips, leaning his head down to your ear as he walks the two of you over to the bed.

“Tell me what you need, mouse,” he whispers huskily in your ear, dipping his head down to nip at your jaw before trailing gentle kisses along the side of your neck. As your knees touch the edge of the bed you grip his bicep and pull him to the side, pushing him down onto the mattress as he gazes up at you.

Still unable to speak you press his shoulders down onto the mattress, kicking off your bottoms as you crawl up his body and settle a knee on either side of his head. A wicked grin from Kidd has you blushing as you sink down onto his face, feeling his hot breath tickle your inner tights before he swipes his tongue along your soaking wet folds.

A sharp gasp escapes you as you hover above his face, unable to look down at him as he lifts his chin up higher, dancing his tongue over your clit as your hips begin to rock and guide him to where you wanted to feel him.

“Relax, mouse,” he purrs from below you, hooking an arm around your hip to pull you down onto his face completely. “Stop running from me - let me make you feel good.” His voice was so gentle, not at all what you’d expected him to be as he nuzzles his face further into your warmth and presses his tongue into your entrance. You moan at the sensation of his tongue massaging your walls, the feeling sending sparks up your spine and your hips buck in rhythm with his movements. A moan rumbles from Kidd’s throat and you offer him one in return, your fingers flinging to his hair as he moves his attention back to the bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs.

“You taste incredible,” he groans in between licks, your eyes finally finding his as he watches you falling apart above him. His grip on your hips tighten as they buck against his face, a crescendo of moans falling from your lips as you feel the tight cord inside you snap, a wave of pleasure washing over you as Kidd’s assault on your clit works you through your orgasm. Once your hips still Kidd loosens the grip on your hips, allowing you to roll off of him and shift down his body to fidget with the bucket on his belt.

Kidd chuckles at your eagerness, the sound shifting to a groan as you tug him free of his confinement. His considerable size has your eyes widening, stroking him in your hand a few times as you contemplate if he’ll even fit inside you. You shove the worry aside and straddle his waist hastily, Kidd’s grin returning as you grind your cunt against the length of him, sandwiching his cock between your folds as you rock your hips.

“Take what you need, mouse,” he says, arm reaching back to rest behind his head as he watches you work yourself over him. Your clit was so sensitive that each rock of your hips sent a spark of pleasure through your body, looking down in awe at the precum leaking from the tip of his cock as you stroke him with your cunt. You could have sent both of you over the edge just from the movements alone, but you lift your hips and position the tip of his cock at your entrance, bringing your eyes back to Kidd’s as you sink down enough for the head of his cock to disappear inside you. Your eyes snap shut at the stretch of him, sinking down another inch before pausing, feeling your breath catch as you adjust to the feeling of him filling you.

Kidd watches you, keeping his hand behind his head as he lets you work your way down his shaft. “Take your time, mouse,” he croons, “You’re taking me so well.”

His praise has your walls clamping down around him, a hiss escaping his lips as you feel his cock twitch in response. You move again until he’s fully inside you, your hips coming flush to his as you lean forward and rest your hands on his chest.

“That’s it, mouse, take it all,” he encourages again and you lift your hips up, the drag of his cock against your walls pulling a moan from you as you sink back down onto him and repeat the motion. Your pace increases steadily, and you brace yourself on his chest as you ride him. Kidd’s eyes drop to where the two of you are connected, licking his lips as he watches how he disappears inside you with each bounce of your hips.

“You like the way my cock feels, mouse?” he purrs, and you whimper in response, your arms beginning to shake after a while. Kidd reaches his hand to your hip to help guide you along his cock, supporting enough of your weight that you lean upright and throw your head back in ecstasy.

He bends his knees and moves his hips to meet your’s, thrusting up into you as your moans and the sound of skin slapping together fills the room.

“Right there?” he questions, the clench of your walls around his cock enough of an answer as he snaps his hips up into you harder, his cock brushing along the gummy walls of your g-spot as you drop your finger down to rub at your swollen clit.

“That’s it,” he growls as his grip on your hip tightens, his pace increasing as you reach a hand up your top and tug on one of your nipples, loosing yourself completely in the feeling Kidd was providing you. “Come on my cock, mouse. Let go for me.”

His words tip you over the edge, and you shatter above him as he leans forward and wraps an arm around your hip, still thrusting up into you as your body spasms around him. Stars dance behind your eyelids as your orgasm rakes through your body, the bucking of your hips slowing as Kidd works you through your orgasm.

You finally open your eyes as Kidd’s lips latch around one of your nipples, the sensation pulling you from your haze as he bites down on it gently before licking over the nub soothingly.

He repeats the action on the other before turning you around and laying you onto the mattress, hovering over you as his eyes meet yours again.

“You want more?” he growls, and you nod, biting your bottom lip.

“Use your words.”

The command in his voice pulls a whimper from you as you squirm beneath him, managing to muster a feeble “please” as you claw him back down to you. A smirk curls on his lips as he slides himself back inside you, sinking his hips down into yours and nuzzling his face into your neck as you claw at his back, attempting to pull him impossibly closer.

“Good girl,” he purrs, his thrusts deep and precise as he snaps his hips into you, slower than previously. Your walls flutter around his length with every deep press of his cock, his tip kissing your cervix as he pants into your neck while trying to keep himself grounded. The bedframe groans under the pressure of each thrust, and you feel the cord begin to tighten once more as Kidd keeps his steady pace.

“Such a greedy girl, gripping me so tight,” he groans, the sentence held out with a growl as Kidd feels you tighten around him like a vice. “You’re taking me so well, mouse. You gunna come for me again?”

“Yes,” you rasp out, remembering his earlier command as you nod your head frantically.

You throw your head further back into the mattress as Kidd leans back to toss your legs over his shoulders, pressing your knees to your chest and folding you nearly in half as he leans his weight down on your legs. The feeling of Kidd filling you in this new position has your mouth falling open, your brows knitting together at the brutal pressure of him pounding into you.

“Relax, pretty girl,” he growls, sensing the tension in your body at the new angle of his thrusts, “You can take it, just breathe.”

You moan as Kidd increases his pace, your vision starting to blur as the sound of skin slapping together mixes with the sounds of both of your moans. The cord in your abdomen tightens as Kidd reaches his hand down to thumb at your clit, the stimulation hurling you into another earth shattering orgasm as Kidd struggles to maintain his pace - his own orgasm rearing its head.

“That’s it, mouse, just like that,” he grunts, managing a few more precise thrusts before his hips still, cock pulsing inside you as he empties himself inside you.

His labored breathing is the only thing you can hear for a few heartbeats after that, and you’re relieved to not feel the overwhelming need burning in your core as he pulls out from you and sits on the edge of your bed.

When he stands and adjusts himself back into his pants you sit up to face him, confused about what to say as he makes his way over to slide his boots back on his feet.

“Gonna need a snack break after that,” he chuckles, looking over his shoulder to see you looking at him with weary eyes. “Besides, you didn’t eat dinner, so I’ll grab you something on my way back.”

“Y-you’re coming back?” you inquire, noting the way his smile softens at your question.

“Should I?”

You nod, not caring if the effects of the pollen were gone or not. Either way, you wanted him to come back - wanted to spend the rest of the night listening to him call you ‘pretty girl’ while he made you see stars.

“Thought so,” he snickers, winking at you before he flings open the door and heads to the kitchen for some food for the two of you.

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cherrycranes · 7 months ago

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omg I absolutely loved your recent smut about judge jonathan crane 😍 especially the bit of praise for his beloved wife, could you make a part 2 where he "gets back" at the reader after his courtroom blow job? with some extra praise please! thank q so much I really enjoyed reading Under His Desk & have an obsession for Jonathan Crane too, i hope you have a lovely day!! 😍

On His Desk (Judge Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader) [+18]

Pairing: Judge Jonathan Crane x female reader Summary: After your husband's work is done, you two can't be bothered to get to a bed before getting freaky. Word count: 2,538 Contents: (Minors DNI) Smut and fluff! Praise, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie Author's notes: I absolutely adore your idea, so here it is! Thank you for your message, I really appreciate it, it was so motivating, and believe me, I always need the motivation. (I'm such a yapper, this fic is double the size of the last one bye. Mandatory 'english is not my first language' disclaimer along with a 'this is my first time writing p in v sex' one, you know the deal.)

"Court dismissed!" Judge Crane announced with a slam of his gavel. Cheers of freedom that he could only compare to those of his students back in Gotham University over a decade ago filled the courtroom. People always loved being allowed to go home, even if those homes belonged to a reign of terror.

Despite that, Jonathan loved going home too. Bane had granted him the upper floor of the courthouse as a personal living space. A makeshift royal chamber for the King of the kangaroo court and his Queen.

You loved home too. You don't remember the last time you had so much freedom over your place of residence. You and Jonathan had been placed in Arkham or prison cells far too many times over the years. And obviously, the iron bars or the cheaply cared for hospital rooms didn't follow your personal taste and sense of style.

The entire Gotham courthouse, all its rooms, chambers, halls and offices were yours now. Your apartments were full of exquisite decorations and stolen fancy furniture that you had only dreamt of when you were doing time. You were the proud Queen of this castle of chaos, and every day, when your and Jonathan's jobs were done, you loved relishing in the fact that this was all yours.

In a high-morale, the attendees left the court. You watched over them, sat comfortably on your throne: Jonathan's lap. Just an hour ago you had been on your knees under your husband's desk, giving him some sneaky attention just to rile him up. And most naturally, you expected his sweet revenge after work.

"So... My sweet angel..." Jonathan murmured warmly into the crook of your neck, his hands pulling you impossibly closer.

"Yes, my perfect Georgia peach?" You asked in a playful but tender tone. The mischief of your previous actions still lingered upon you like his taste on your tongue. Jonathan scoffed and rolled his eyes with a smirk. His hands held you by the hips as he shifted you into a straddle on his lap.

"You're feeling silly today, aren't you, love?" His voice was soft and perfectly warm, nothing like the tone he'd use when announcing the death sentences. It almost seemed like Judge Jonathan Crane and your husband Jonathan were two different men who happened to be madly in love with you at the same time.

"Don't act like you don't love it." You retorted in flirtation. Your lips found him for a moment, giving him a teasing chaste kiss that made him grip your waist and groan.

"I can't fool you... I live for it, baby... And for you too." His hands helped you back into his kiss, this time adding passion into the mix.

Instinctively, your hips ground on him, on his lap. His grip on you grew tighter. Soon enough his tongue was asking for permission to enter your mouth.

Lips parted for him and he went in so slowly, savoring you like the most delicate of desserts. The hand that wore a wedding ring traced a path from your waist, over the fabric of your dress and towards the skin of your back. His hands were rough from the work on the farm he grew up in and the experiments and fights afterwards. The entire life story of your husband along with the smooth metal of his ring finally found your hair, and he held you there. At just a lick away from him.

You moaned softly into his mouth, and he echoed you. He had a firm grip on your hair and your waist, but nothing painful or aggressive.

“But what you did today… It was very very bad, love.” He broke the kiss just to murmur. His beautiful eyes heavy-lidded behind his square glasses.

“What? You didn’t like it?” You asked in a playful sarcasm. One of your hands ran across his hair, brushing an unruly salt and pepper strand away from his forehead. The other took off his glasses with care. Your husband had a mild case of myopia, he wouldn't miss a thing up close.

“I hated it.” He returned the sarcasm with a smirk. His eyes watched the care with which you set his glasses aside, adoration in such a small gesture and in the way he perceived it. His cock had grown harder in his pants. You chuckled with mischief when you noticed.

“Does that mean I’m getting punished?” It was a cheeky question with a hint of true background to it. Sure, your husband had his kinks and so did you, but you could tell in his eyes, in the way he was holding you that, right now, all he ever wanted to do was to be with you, to feel you and finish what you had started down on your knees.

“Maybe...” He chuckled before leaning in for another kiss, just as deep and slow as the previous one.

He held you really tight. The emptiness of the courtroom amplified every single noise you made. And he couldn’t get enough of it. His every sense had to be filled with you. Hearing, touch, sight, taste and smell. It all had been conquered a long time ago by his beloved wife and he strived to keep it that way.

His lips went further down, from the corners of your lips to your jaw. Open-mouthed kisses trailed their way towards your neck. He growled at the scent of your perfume, unable to resist pressing his face against you.

“Me neither.” You whispered back, your arms were busy wrapping around his shoulders, brushing past the ripped parts of his suit jacket, and he took it as a green light to act.

"Smells good." He purred in delight, nuzzling his nose against your neck once more. "Is that the perfume I got you, love?" Your dream perfume, to be exact. Jonathan had sent some of his men to raid the fanciest Gotham stores with a list of expensive gifts for you. In the anarchy money wasn't a problem anymore. Good old 'finders keepers' had played in your favor. Jonathan now made sure to bathe you in the riches his status as a wanted villain wasn't able to afford back in the day. You hummed your ‘yes’ with a proud, flirty smirk, drawing a smile out of Jonathan.

“It suits you so well… Makes me go insane…” He whispered, giving your neck a few more hungry nibbles and kisses. “I'm definitely not waiting until we get upstairs, baby.” Despite the seductiveness in his voice, he was being completely honest. And after all, the courtroom was empty, the pile of desks was strong enough, and he was too hard to handle being patient.

With you secured with the embrace, and with a gentleness intended for a fine piece of china, Jonathan slowly laid you down on his desk. Moving away any sort of clutter that could be an obstacle to your beautiful body before fully setting you there. His lips never once abandoned your neck, the sounds of his sucks and nibbles fusing with the sound of some paper sheets being tossed aside.

"Godammit, you're perfect." He whispered in fluent desire when he pulled back to take a good look at you. Once your head was safely laid on the wooden surface his hand traced the shape of your body over the fabric of your dress. All the way over to your thighs where the hemline rested, although not for much longer.

Reverently, he slid the dress up to your hips, his baby blue eyes already fixated on your lacy black panties that left nothing to the imagination.

“Oh, love… You’re perfect and you’re a perfect tease…” He remarked, the corners of his lips were tugged up into a smirk. His eyes reverently tracing the shape of your cunt. His favorite place to be in.

Not wanting to wait any longer, Jonathan yanked the panties off your body, letting them join the sheets of paper. He pushed the backs of your thighs down and hooked each leg on each of his shoulders hungrily.

In a moment, he gathered up saliva in his mouth and carefully spat over your pussy. Your wetness could be enough on its own, but he was a firm believer in having you completely soaked before taking him in.

“That’s it… Nice and easy…” He whispered with proud hunger, his hands were already taking his cock out of his pants for a second time today.

“Forgive me for not foreplaying you more, love. But if I don’t do this right now I’m going to cum in my pants…” He confessed and got a sweet laugh out of you that shifted into a soft moan when the tip of his penis pressed against your entrance.

He exhaled a hot, lustful breath of relief when his saliva and your own wetness eased his way inside you. You moaned again, your hands held onto the edge of the desk as the familiar sensation took over. Every vein and inch engraved in your memory, your pussy so warm and needy for him. He closed his eyes for a moment, his mouth opening for his own moan when he pushed all the way in. One of his hands caressed your cheek softly and his eyes opened to seek your permission to go on.

You nodded, your tongue darting out to lick his thumb mischievously as it brushed over your lips. He groaned at the sight and at the rush when he started to move, fucking you slowly and deeply into the desk.

“Ohh, love… My beautiful love…” He muttered, his breathing was starting to get heavier the more he pounded in you, yours was too. You moaned, you cunt getting even slicker. You clenched once around him, just to bask in the pretty sound he made. To get back at you, he plunged his thumb into your warm mouth, pressing the digit against your tongue. You diligently sucked it and clenched your walls around him again in playfulness.

With a groan that tested the edge of a moan, Jonathan pulled his now wet thumb out of your mouth. He found both of your wrists and held them down firmly but not aggressively, just in a search to hold onto you and return the banter. His hips bucked faster now, the sound of your skin slapping against his added to the lists of sinful sounds echoing in the courtroom.

“God, you’re always so tight…” He thought out loud, the pride in your eyes made him thrust into you harder.

“Jonathan!” You semi-complained, your wet throbbing pussy had nothing against him, but your remaining consciousness did just a little bit. It was more of a playful banter in all honesty.

“Told you you were going to be punished, love…” He explained himself with another hard thrust that made you yelp. “Just… Not as roughly… You’re far too gorgeous… To be treated like that…” Dirty liar. You had been spanked or facefucked for much less in the past, but Jonathan seemed so needy for you today, you decided to let it slide for now.

“Oh, God…” You cried out multiple times as his thrusts went on, his grunts and moans usually replying to you each time. His grip on your wrists was passionate, keeping you there and sinking his nails into your flesh, adding a soft hiss to your repertoire of sounds.

Your pussy kept clenching around him like your life depended on it, to the point where you started to do it automatically. You threw your head back with another moan that was driving your husband mad. Incredibly so.

The tip of his cock hit the right spot inside you, and he took advantage of the way your body trembled and how you let your guard down when your eyes closed to start his final attack. He left your wrists alone now, and your hands were free to return to your vicious grip on the desk. Something that you would definitely need.

The pleasure that boiled in your depths suddenly turned into an intense haze when Jonathan one-upped your clenches with skillful circular motions that he pressed on your clit. His body-hand coordination showed off as he maintained the fast pace with his hips but treated your bundle of nerves with a practiced care. All you could do was gasp and yelp, moan and hold onto the wooden edge and then moan again.

Jonathan kept abusing the hell out of your g-spot and your clit with pride and mischief, definitely taking his revenge on you. Still, he couldn’t deny just how precious you were to him, how beautiful you looked, how delicious your tight little pussy felt around his cock. You were his perfect angel, and he craved to treat you as such.

With love, he leaned in, holding the top of your head with his free hand and kissing you senseless, his tongue tasting yours and swallowing your moans straight from the source. He was going wild, his circles applied more pressure to your clit and his pace became faster. He had to push his body weight on you a bit harder now.

His left hand then traveled from your head to your face, and then all the way over to your clothed breast, cupping it and squeezing it. He purred and massaged it over your dress, a satisfied smirk formed against your lips when he felt your pussy’s reaction to it. You were so close to the edge for him.

Intelligently, he went all out. His hips pistoned so hard your g-spot didn’t have a single second to rest. His fingers moved so fast over your clit it felt like a vibration. You moaned out his name and probably left curved marks on the wood from your nails.

“That's perfect… So perfect, my love, you’re doing so good!” Jonathan struggled to speak in his own pleasure. He was so close to another orgasm but he held it back, even if his slapping balls felt tighter and tighter. He was not cumming until you did.

“Jonathan!” You cried out. You took a weight off his shoulders when, unable to take it any longer, the tension and heat that coiled in your insides snapped, making you come all over his cock before him.

His own endurance was affected with the feeling of your wet, thick orgasm. Your throbbing cunt eagerly milked his twitching cock. He pounded into you a few more times before groaning and finally allowing himself to release. Your slick and the remnants of his saliva now mixed with his cum. His body rested lovingly on top of yours, distributing his weight so he didn't crush your panting, post orgasmic form.

With adoration, he kissed your neck, his fingers allowed your clit to rest as he drew them back towards his lips, licking the digits that had touched it in both an act of desire and utter love.

You were his life, his love, his driving force, his literal partner in crime and most importantly, his wife. And despite the way things were now in Gotham, he was grateful that he had you here, in his arms, full of him like he was of you.

#jonathan crane x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy characters #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #judge jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane #jonathan crane fanfic #jonathan crane smut #the scarecrow #scarecrow #dc

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coffee-and-tea-time · 3 months ago

Text

♪.•*¨*•.¸¸♬ Oh, I could hear you for a lifespan and more ♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪

Hello! Coffee and Tea talking!

We really sorry for disappearing so long but we got two things planned for y'all, first one, we got some asks directly talking to us wich we love and found very cute so we plan to make a separate post for Q&A and replying to cute asks, so if anyone feels shy about asking something or saying something, it’s your time, just shoot! We love yapping with you guys fr fr ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊ - Coffee

Secondly, we are glad to inform you guys of our Valentine’s Day special!! it will consist of any of our characters answering your asks about them directly! so if you have something cheesy you’d like to say to any of our babies, go right ahead through asks! - Tea

if you want context, you can go here but it's not that necessary we think - the twins

count word: 3k

tw: panic, lowkey sarcastic reader, spanish words (translation at the end), yandere behavior, an idiot, little paranoia, writing in you/yours, reader always getting interrupted, overall fluff, rich yandere, willing reader

Doesn’t it sound like an easy choice? The one that stands out the most!

Your smile widens, imagining who might be behind this enigmatic title of “the singer” there was no spinning it, the mysterious yet extravagant summary the smiling seller told you totally bought you. Is this your wattpad moment? where you suddenly start living with Harr-

“Ejem, if you might excuse my forwardness, But I advise you to quicken this process since waiting for long can turn… complicated for our candidates, and management, and the general public. Though by the looks of it I think you’ve already made a decision, Dear. So tell me, who’s the lucky one? that gets to not turn even more crazy than they already are”

“Well, I want the singer… Please”

You give the seller a shy smile, hoping you don't look too pretentious with your choice but you don’t have time to dwell on it much. Before you knew it, the seller was already shaking your hands congratulating you for your decision before slipping away to make a quick call to who you guess is the yandere. Now that you think about it… Why had nobody chosen him before? like, it’s a very obviously perfect option, maybe he was new in the system or som-

“Dear, sorry for my disrespectful interruption of your thoughts again, but I must inform you that the limo is here, seems like Angelo wants to give you a blissful and boastful first impression! It was a pleasure to meet you, Darling”

The seller attempts to try and kiss your hand, but the chauffeur snaps your hands away from him saying he got clear orders of not letting anyone touch you, the seller just chuckles and raises his hands before getting back into the shop.

You stood there a little dazed before finally realizing the kind of future that lay ahead of you. Following the chauffeur, who swiftly guides you into the vehicle, You find that inside there’s even some snacks for you to enjoy through the ride but a little knot on your stomach deters you from indulging. You chose and signed the papers quickly since it was what your heart desired but, shouldn’t you have asked more before choosing? You take a deep breath, reassuring yourself that you’re just nervous, everything will be just as good or even better than what you picture it.

Then you look out the tinted window… Where are you right now? What's this neighborhood? Every corner is covered in fancy arrangements and decor which amuses you. Eventually, you pull out your phone to check how much longer it takes getting to this place coincidentally as the car stops its movement and interrupts your train of thought yet again.

The door of the car is opened before you get the chance to even lift a finger and you are greeted by the angelic face of a man, worthy of praise and worship, smiling down at you and offering his hand as to help you get out of the car

"Hi~, welcome welcome, how are you feeling on such a joyful day as today? I hope that you are as thrilled as I am"

He says with a charming smile, holding your hand delicately for you to exit the car then guides you into his house, his eyes ogling you like a three course meal.

"Would you like something to drink? A water perhaps? I don't really have much sugary drinks since I have to take good care of my vocal cords, but if that's what you'd enjoy, then I'll absolutely find a way to get it for you"

"Oh, I'm really fine, don't wor-"

His step falters before stopping dead in his tracks, his smile softening in… awe? He shuffles closer as your voice trails off by the sudden action.

"Oh, Honey, I'm so sorry to interrupt your words, I just couldn't help but get closer… you speak so softly, I'd wish to hear you more clearly"

He puts his hand on your shoulder reassuringly, though it quickly moves up to your neck, his thumb caressing the side of your throat.

"You shouldn't overthink too much, your duty here is being happy with me, and when I'm not around, feel free to enjoy your free time as you wish; my only condition here is you take care of yourself and… to not look at anyone else in the eye for too long… but well, you should’ve already expected that, you signed for it, honey"

You shy your gaze away from those hazel eyes that seem to adore you so much, but he gently holds your face with his other hand, gently moving your face to look at him as he caresses your cheek with his thumb.

“Angelo. of course I-”

As you were about to get your first lovely tender moment with your dream yandere; someone interrupts, you couldn’t see who, Angelo quickly pulls you into a safe hug, with your face on his chest, like protecting a precious yet fragile gem. You also failed to see his murderous glare, silly cute fool.

“What?”

“Angel, hay una llamada urgente, es tu manager, es algo relacionado al concierto del mes que viene”

….Huh? Spanish?

“¿Otra vez jodiendo con lo mismo? Ya lo cancele, que deje de molestar… Ahí voy, es capaz de venir hasta acá si no le contesto, podes irte”

Clueless of the situation, you keep still comfy in the hug as he pats your head, he really uses a good cologne, just when you hear footsteps falling away. is when he loosens his grip and looks back at you with a soft smile before kissing your cheek.

“Sorry I can't give you a good tour at this moment Honey, my manager is calling for some urgent work matters, hope you can forgive me. In the meantime, a maid can show you around our backyard or you can ask her to guide you to your room. I decorated it myself, very standart, so you can change it as you like, Darling. I’m thrilled to see your precious self around each corner in the mansion, because everything you choose or touch will be always have your print on it”

He kisses you hand before calling the headmaid, a woman who gives you the impression of a sweet grandmother who bakes cookies and pies. As you two were left alone, she giggles and offers to walk you around the garden, which you gladly accept.

“Oh, look this one was chosen by one of the butlers, the name is a real tongue twister for me ‘rhododendron’ or something like that, I'm too busy to keep worrying about memorizing such a name. Oh dear, sit inside the gazebo, it has such a good view of the garden, would you rather have some tea or coffee? I’ll bring you some to enjoy this evening”

You thank her as you giddily enter the gazebo and sit on one of the chairs around a little tea table. You were enjoying the view as you imagined cute things to do with Angelo, but it seems like today is the day that everyone decides to interrupt you. A loud noise startled you, a man dressed formally was gasping for air, cold sweat on his face as if he saw Ghostface or something.

“You have to get out of here”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

You watch him hurry to you and grab you by the arm but by reflex you pull back in the opposite direction, like if it were some siblings fighting you two on each side of the table, moving when the other moves. You remember his voice, he is the one that interrupted you earlier with Angelo.

“You need to run, he’s a fucking psycopath”

Oh, what a surprise. The yandere is a psychopath, wow.

Wait, it’s surely not common that other people around them knew about their yandere antics, what are you supposed to do now? Fuck, maybe you really should have bought that manual for 'how to take care of your yandere' when they offered it to you on the website to know what to do in this moment.

“Okey, I think I know what are you worried about, believe me, it isn’t a problem, I-”

“YOU DO NOT KNOW! That psycho, some time ago- he started saying he needed to prepare for his angel of music and at first I thought he was paroding tha phantom of the opera, but then he began firing a lot of people, he only allowed the old servants and people that weren’t able to speak english to remain, I learned the language in secret since I can’t let this happens to someone. He wants to trap you and control you in…”

And then, you stopped listening, this wannabe of a hero is kinda getting on your nerves. Yeh yeh, psychopaths are bad, you know, you care? Nope, you literally had to go through so much paperworks and half of it asked if you were sure of it, even going through a psychological test! This guy isn’t just about to stress you out on your perfect day where you finally got your dream lover for life. But before you could tell this guy to leave you alone, the maid that treated you like so sweetly was calling for you. You were about to happily go when the weirdo grabbed you by your arm and told you to remember what he said…

Anyways, you ignore him and act as if he doesn’t exist as you make your way to the smiling grandma waiting for you.

“Oh, sorry for making you come all the way here dear, but sir Angelo asked if you could please have the merienda with him, don’t worry. Angelo already informed us all about what would be of your taste, hope you enjoy it”

…

Ah, you really couldn’t wish for today to be more perfect, you practically spent the whole day with Angelo clinging to you and wanting to know so much about you like a cute puppy. You did not expect him to suddenly drive you to a restaurant that got your favorite food as a specialty for dinner but you sure as hell aren’t complaining. How did he know? You don't know and you pretty much don’t care, much less as when you are on your new room, in the comfiest pajamas you could ever think of, cozy laying on a damn soft bed while your hair is getting so lovingly caressed, both of you spending your time talking since neither wished to separate from the other.

“Okay Angel, I answered so many of your questions, now you answer mine….. Oh yeah, you mentioned that you liked the process of composing a song a lot. Tell me, how is it? How does it feel?”

“Well Honey, you see, so sometimes people write music using music theory and some just go with intuition. I'm an intuition guy and… it feels kind of like pouring your heart out, how the song turns out is only partly intentional, you can say it's like love itself, you can’t fully control it, it just pops into your heart and you just need to let it out”

“And since it is like love, let me throw you another question related, how do you feel love?”

He chuckled softly as he kissed your cheek before standing up from the bed and beginning to talk as he guided you towards the door.

“A curious bunny, aren't we? Well, I don't think there's a way to properly explain love, and in our case it is even harder to put in words, you feel it. like that cute blush when I kissed you cheek, the little giggles we shared today, the loving glances,gestures, words… the endless need of protection, the endless wish for the other, the eternal devotion, the way the heart jumps overly excited nonstop and every word you precious voic-... Sorry my dear, I seem to have grown a little excited over there, hope you can excuse my behavior… I’m just so so so so intoxicatedly in love, you should rest now Honey, believe me, you will have no way to doubt my love. I will be in the room next door if you need a human body pillow to cuddle you to sleep; dulces sueños, Amor”

As he closes the door behind him, you are left there with a foolish smile, giggling as you hug your pillow while recalling the events of the day and think of what’s in stock for you. Will it be too much to really get into his room for cuddles and see his reaction? The only thought made you kick your feet yet again, before you could make a choice, a hand appeared from below the bed, scaring the shit out of you and just when you were about to scream to alert Angelo. The guy gets out from under the bed, revealing himself as the guy from before but this time wearing some spy costume.

“I’m here for you! I’m sorry I couldn’t come any sooner, it would have been so difficult to be in the same bed with that monster so close to you, you must feel so nauseous”

Yeah, so nauseous that you were just about to try to sneak into his room.

“Do not fear, I been working here for some time, I know every corner, we can escape together, I can’t let you be here alone with that, I must save you”

Buddy… there's less painful ways to die, seriously.

You stood there already seeing how this is gonna end because of this delusional man who doesn’t know how to get out of matters that don't concern him, this is no movie and he is gonna piss off the person he really should avoid getting mad.

“Hey, listen, I get that you are doing something that really shows how good morals you have, but this is entirely consensua- WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?”

“What I must!”

Is he fucking deaf or something? He suddenly grabbed you and is trying to get you out of the room by force! You can’t believe that the one kidnaping you isn’t the loving stalker you signed up for…

Oh oh

You swear you can hear how you are about to get a heart attack as adrenaline rushes to your veins, while you were fighting the maniac to let you go, he manages to get you just outside your door, and when you turn your head to ask for help, in the end of the hallway there he is: Angelo, who seems to have lost the lovesick eyes, his eyes now blown wide and unblinking with a crazed look and bloodshot pupils. His smile didn't fade away; though it was no longer warm as it had been the whole day. Then you remember one of the major rules you were told as you signed the papers to have a yandere.

DO NOT TRY TO ESCAPE

Does this count as trying to escape? You didn't even plan to! This dumbass moron is going to make your angel have a heavy mental breakdown! Fuck, think quickly, think quickly.

As Angelo start running towards you and the guy also tries to drag you on the opposite direction, you take the opportunity he is not focusing in you to grab one of the fancy little vases decorating the hallway and smash it into his face, that wouldn't kill him, it’s just enough for him to lose his grip on you. You run towards Angelo, that was a second or so to catch up to you anyways, hyperventilating as your face collides with his chest, he tightly holds you, whispering how glad he is that you are good and that you weren't really trying to escape from him. His focus quickly switches to the apparently crazy man wincing because of his wounds and screaming how this is not right.

“Llevenselo… al sótano especial, se ve que nuestro amigo se muere por conocerlo, haganle el favor. Yo iré a verlo mañana…”

You stay here frozen as from the corner of your eye you catch a man and a woman walking out of the shadows and swiftly knock the guy out before dragging him to who knows where, and in the back of your mind, you know it’s better that way; though… Why were they so close to your room?

“Oh, my sweet sweet honey, i’m so sorry you been thought al that… ah, you must be wondering who those were… you can say they are security elements my love, you know, there’s a record of people that regret the choice of having a yandere and try to escape and I didnt want to take any chances of something happening to my oh so precious dear, come here, you’re shaking a lot, lets go inside my room were I can tuck you into the bed, cuddle you and, most importantly, keep you safe”

You follow him as he makes sure you don’t lose your balance as the adrenaline washed away, getting you again in the bed as he holds you close with one arm and with his free hands he continues to caress your hair softly.

“My loving darling, I hope you can see how the security was so needed, you could really end up hurt… oh my poor sweetie, tomorrow we should just stay inside beside each other, what about eating all your favorite treats? We can watch that movie you love so much or search for something new. Oh, I saw you enjoying the garden, there’s a special hidden spot where I planted saloryss, you're gonna love it. Just us clinging and doing things together, being cute lovey dovey forever and ever, Hunny”

As he continues saying sweet things to you or planning things to do with you, you realize… this is the choice you made and you couldn't be more happy about it, more so when he starts peppering your face with kisses as he notices you lost in thought, even if it started strong, this is the kinda love you always wish for: eternal love… your boyfriend is truly so cute hehe.

Love is truly blind, huh?

........

Translation of the dialogues in spanish (not so literal in so parts to help keep the vibe of the phrase):

“Angelo, hay una llamada urgente, es tu manager, es algo relacionado al concierto del mes que viene” = “Angelo, there’s an urgent call, is your manager, is something related to the concert the next month”

“¿Otra vez jodiendo con lo mismo? Ya lo cancele, que deje de molestar… Ahí voy, es capaz de venir hacía acá si no le contesto, podes irte” = “bothering me with the same shit again? I've already canceled it, he should stop annoying me...I’ll go in a moment, he's capable of coming here if I don't answer him, you can leave."

“Merienda” = Is a light meal between lunch and dinner, think of it like tea time tho if its sweet or not, depends on the taste of the person.

“...Dulces sueños, Amor” = “Sweet dreams, Love”

“Llevenselo… al sótano especial, se ve que nuestro amigo se muere por conocerlo, haganle el favor. Yo iré a verlo mañana…” = “Take him away.. to the special basement. It seems that our friend is dying to visit, do him the favor. I will go see him tomorrow…”

fanart a precious soul made of this character and his reaction

sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣

image from pinterest ⚘

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