#q: count every moment and make every moment count

[g-hughes]

[ 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!!

[capquinn]

Sunday | Q. Hughes

summary: A lazy Sunday morning... pairing: reader x quinn hughes content: nothing but tooth rotting fluff word count: 1k ↪masterlist

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

“You’re staring,” he murmurs, his voice low and a little raspy from sleep, but there’s a hint of amusement in it.

A smile tugs at your lips as your fingers brush a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. “Just admiring."

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

The morning light slips through the blinds, casting soft, golden stripes across the room. It dances on the walls, wrapping you both in a warm, quiet glow. It’s the kind of light that only comes in the last days of summer, when the air feels just a bit cooler in the mornings, but the days still stretch long into the evening. There’s something almost ethereal about the way it floods the space, filling every corner with a peaceful stillness.

You’re both wrapped in the tangled mess of white sheets, limbs entwined. Quinn's chest rises and falls in a slow, steady rhythm, the gentle warmth of his skin brushing against yours. The world beyond the window might as well not exist; here, in the cocoon of soft linens and golden light, it’s just the two of you, wrapped in the last days of lazy summer, sheltered from the chaos of life outside.

You glance up at Quinn, his face half-buried in the pillow, hair slightly tousled and falling in soft strands across his forehead. The sunlight dances on his face, illuminating the faint freckles scattered across his nose. His expression is soft, radiating the kind of peacefulness that only comes when you know you don’t have to be anywhere else but here. His eyes are still heavy with sleep, lashes casting gentle shadows on his cheeks, but there’s a contentedness in the way he looks at you and a lazy, easy smile playing at the corners of his lips that makes your heart flutter.

You shift a little closer, pressing your cheek against the pillow and propping yourself up slightly on your elbow. Your hand moves instinctively, fingers tracing the outline of his jaw, feeling the slight roughness of stubble that’s grown in over the weekend. He leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed briefly before opening again, meeting yours in that sleepy, comfortable silence.

“You’re staring,” he murmurs, his voice low and a little raspy from sleep, but there’s a hint of amusement in it.

A smile tugs at your lips as your fingers brush a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. “Just admiring."

His brows quirk, but he doesn’t say anything, just watches you with a curious gaze. The warmth of his eyes pulls you in like it always does, the mix of green and hazel almost impossible to decipher. They’re mesmerizing... The way the morning light catches in his irises, turning the hues of green and hazel into something almost magical. They shift with the light, as if the exact colour of them depends on where you’re standing, or how close you are.

Luckily, you’re the only one who gets to see them this closely.

That thought makes your heart swell. This quiet intimacy between the two of you, tucked away from the world in the soft glow of the morning. His eyes, those incredible, ever-changing eyes, are just for you in this moment. A warmth blooms in your chest, a sense of comfort and belonging that’s almost overwhelming in its simplicity.

“You have such pretty eyes,” you say softly, the words slipping out without much thought.

A faint blush creeps across Quinn’s cheeks, and he shifts slightly under the covers, glancing away for just a second. His reaction is almost bashful, as if no one’s ever said something like that to him before.

Quinn opens his mouth to respond, but then closes it again, a soft chuckle escaping him instead. His cheeks flush a deeper pink, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

“Stop,” he mumbles, his voice muffled, laced with that shy, nervous laughter. His arms tighten around you, pulling you closer until you’re pressed up against him.

You laugh lightly, brushing your fingers through his messy hair as you feel the heat of embarrassment radiating off him. “I’m serious,” you whisper, leaning in just a little, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. “They’re like... impossible to figure out. Sometimes they look green, sometimes hazel... So pretty.”

He groans softly in protest, his face still buried against your neck. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m really not,” you insist, your voice playful, trying to keep the moment light. You feel the soft rumble of his laughter against your chest, his body vibrating with the sound. “They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

His breath hitches slightly at the words, and for a moment, he just stays there, his face hidden in the curve of your neck, as if he’s too shy to even look at you. But then he shifts, lifting his head just enough to press a soft kiss against your collarbone. His lips linger there for a second longer than usual, his lips warm and tender against your skin, as if he’s gathering the courage to speak.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me before,” he admits quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smile, your heart swelling at the softness of his confession. “Well, then they’ve clearly never looked at you the way I do.”

He glances up at you finally, his eyes catching the light again, and for a second, neither of you say anything. There’s no need to. The moment is so simple, so mundane in the grand scheme of things, and yet it feels like the most intimate thing in the world. Just you, him, and the quiet of a lazy summer morning.

Quinn’s lips curve into a small, shy smile, his face still flushed as he leans down to press his forehead against yours. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Maybe,” you murmur back, your fingers brushing lightly over his arm. “But I’m right.”

He laughs again, this time a little more freely, and pulls you closer into him until your legs are tangled together beneath the sheets once more. There’s no rush to move, no urgency to do anything but just be. You have this one last weekend together before everything picks up again — work, hockey, life — and for now, that’s more than enough.

[froggiewrites]

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

[jungwnies]

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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[kyri45]

✨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.

[tkwrites]

Split & Healed - A snapshot in 2 parts - Quinn Hughes x ofc

gif from @gabelandeskog

Title: Split & Healed, a Snapshot in 2 parts: Part 2 

Part 1

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn x Sarah

Warnings: smut (18+ only), oral (f receiving)

Summary: Getting home from a road trip in the middle of the night is par for the course for Quinn, but getting home after finally getting his stitches removed means he can’t wait for morning to get his mouth on Sarah.

Word count: 1,600

Comments: Many thanks for the nonnie who sent in this inspired ask! Hope you enjoy what I came up with! 

If you enjoyed this, please let me know by commenting, reblogging or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

Anonymous asked: Thinking about Quinn being so excited to give Sarah head when the stitches finally come out of his lip. He would be insatiable 

Split & Healed, a Snapshot in 2 parts: Part 2 

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot 

When Quinn arrived home in the early hours of the morning on Friday, he had no intention of a waking Sarah.

He missed her, certainly, but he'd missed her before.  He had it all planned out. He’d catch a few hours of restful sleep next to her and then spend the morning worshiping every inch of her he could get his mouth on until she had to leave for class.

After Roman removed the last of the stitches after practice in Utah, he sent Sarah a selfie. 

Does this mean we can finally kiss when you get home? 

Sure does. 

Thank God.  

It had been a cruel twist of fate to have the stitches removed and be cleared to do everything as soon as he was no longer at home. 

The entire drive from the arena, he told himself he could wait until a more reasonable hour. 

The moment he got into bed, however, everything changed. As the heady scent of her surrounded him, all of a sudden, his dick was hard and his mouth was buzzing with a need to kiss and taste her that he just couldn’t shake.

It had been torturous to resist her while the stitches were still in place. He loved putting his mouth on her, and the desire only intensified when he was told he couldn’t.

He’d even begged to go down on her, but she’d refused, point blank, telling him, “I will not be the one responsible for your lip getting infected.”  

Perhaps it was just because everything that had been haunting his dreams since his lip had been busted was in front of him.

Perhaps it was because he was presented with so much of her bare skin he hadn't been able to put his mouth on for the past week and a half.  

Perhaps it was nothing more than the simple relief of being home without seutchers sewn into his skin. 

Whatever it was - likely a combination of all three - he found he just couldn’t wait. 

“Quinn?” Sarah asked sleepily, feeling something whisper over her shoulder again. 

He mumbled into her skin. 

“Q, is that you?” It wasn’t so much that she thought it might be someone else as she wanted to make sure this wasn't just happening in her dream.

His mouth skimmed up her neck to whisper in her ear, “yeah. It’s me.” 

She made a contented little humming noise, and shifted to lean against him more. 

Taking this as an invitation to continue, Quinn kept kissing and kissing, savoring the softness of her skin, the taste of her. 

She made that same noise again, a little louder this time, and the control he’d been skimming along stretched taught, threatening to snap. 

“Can I go down on you?” he murmured, giving up on trying to talk himself out of it.  

“Hu?”  

“Can I eat you out?” There was a desperate whine to his voice when he added on, “please?” 

Though she did want it - she’d missed his mouth on her nearly as much as he had - it was the middle of the night. “Quinn, I'm too tired,” she said, words slurred with sleep. 

He knew he should let it go, but found he couldn't. The idea had gripped too much of his imagination. “I don’t want to wait to taste you now that I can.”

She pulled in a deep, sleepy breath, “I don’t know that I can…” she trailed off, gesturing vaguely, miming jerking him off. 

“You don’t need to do anything,” he rushed to assure. “Getting my mouth on you is enough.”

Murmuring his name as more heat rushed down her spine, Sarah rolled onto her back. 

He scrambled on top of her. “This is okay?”

Her eyes were still closed, lashes fanned over her cheeks, as she nodded. 

Relief and desire chased each other through his body.

Hooking his fingers into the waistband of her little purple shorts, he eased them and her underwear down, tossing them off the side of the bed before he spread her legs to find his home between them.

“Quinn,” she breathed. There was so much quiet desire in the whispered way she said his name, it made another surge of heat rush to his cock. 

He licked his lips, anxious to taste her on them, and finally (finally, finally) put his mouth on her. 

A moaned little grunt escaped her mouth and her hips tipped toward him. 

His hunch wasn't far off. One taste of her sweet nectar, and he was straining against the confines of his boxers and rutting into the mattress to get some relief. If she hadn’t been so tired, he would beg for her to touch him next, but that could wait.

God, she was perfect. She tasted so good. 

Her hand slipped down, her fingers lazily brushing into his hair. Another need raged to life inside him. 

“Pull my hair,” he practically begged. He could hear how much she liked it, but he wanted to feel it too. 

Her fingers traced over his scalp again. 

Maybe she hadn’t heard him. He pulled back so he could talk louder, “Sarah?”

“Hmm?” Her eyes were still closed, voice still sleepy. 

“Sarah, pull my hair,” there was a distinct whine in his voice now that he didn’t even try to bite back. He needed to feel it. “Please.”  

She nudged him down. He didn't need telling twice.

As he licked her perfect, sensitive pearl, her hips jumped to his mouth and her hand tightened in his curls.

“Just like that,” he groaned into her. 

“Oh my god,” Sarah breathed. This was by far the best wakeup call she’d ever received. 

Suddenly, he was insatiable, lapping and sucking at her as if he were eating his final meal. He’d missed this so much, he was never giving up the opportunity again. 

“So good, Quinn,” she moaned. 

Her praise swam straight to his cock. “Again,” he groaned into her.

“So good,” she repeated, tightening her fingers in his hair. Then, swimming with pleasure and the want to drive him over the same cliff he was pushing her toward, she found herself continuing, “such a good boy for me.”

The combination of the tingling pain from her grip on his hair and her praise hurled him over the precipice. 

With one last rock of his hips, he shot off, coating the inside of his boxers.

He grunted into her, feeling his eyes roll back. 

When he came back to himself, she was still spread out under him, her breath coming in steady, even gasps. 

She whined when he pulled back to suck in a few deep breaths. He needed to send her over the edge and needed his lungs full of air to do it. 

Sarah moaned loudly when he dove back in, snaking his tongue inside her as he nosed at her clit. 

“Quinn, oh fuck.” Her hips moved of their own volition, shamelessly grinding herself against the bridge of his nose. 

Feeling her fall apart around his tongue while he couldn't smell and taste anything but her was the fulfillment of every fantasy he’d had over the past eleven days.

Had he not already, he surely would have shot off listening to her pleasured moans and feeling her pulsing around and against his mouth. 

He kept going until she collapsed back against the mattress. 

His top lip still felt a little strange to him – too stiff where the wound was still healing – but licking her essence off of it made it feel a little more normal.

Her breathing was coming in deep gasps, one hand over her heart. “Oh my God.” 

Crunching up a little, she found him still on his stomach, languidly licking his lips as if he wanted to savor every drop. 

“That was…” she trailed off, flopping back onto the mattress. 

She could hear the smile in his voice as he teased, “worth waking up for?”

“Holy shit. Yes. I should stop you from going down on me so often if that’s going to be the result.” 

Quinn scrambled away from her. “What?” 

She opened one eye to find him kneeling between her knees, a wary look on his handsome face. She smirked, savoring his reaction for just a moment before she caved, “I’m just joking. You’re the only guy I’ve dated that actually likes going down on me. I’m not going to stop you.” 

He practically slumped over her left leg in relief. 

“What time is it?” she asked. 

“Quarter to three,” he said, glancing at the digital alarm clock across the room. 

“Can you hand me my shorts?” she asked after a few minutes. As the high of her orgasm ebbed away, fatigue settled back into her bones. 

“Yeah,” he grunted, pushing himself up.

She hummed. 

“Here.” 

Opening her eyes, she found Quinn at the end of the bed, threading her shorts and underwear over her feet so he could ease them up her legs. 

She took over at her knees and he went to the bathroom, grabbing a fresh pair of boxers on the way. 

Feeling him relax into the bed next to her, Sarah roused herself enough to ask, “did you get off?” 

He smiled, loving that even in her early morning, sleepy mind, she was thinking of him. “Yep,” he said before pulling her body flush to his and pressing a kiss to her shoulder. 

“Good,” she said quietly, leaning into him and drifting back to sleep. 

Part 1

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[bratzkoo]

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.

[takamimami]

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.

100 Follower Event Masterlist ✨come say hai :3✨

[cherrycranes]

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.

[mbsneur]

We want Alessia in every way 👀

NSFW ALPHABET💌

Alessia Russo !bottom! 18+

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

she will always want you to take her in your arms afterwards and cuddle her she will scratch your back while you do it

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

her favourite part of her body is her eyes (if that counts) she loves the way you look into her eyes and go weak in the knees

her favourite body part on you are your legs she loves to free herself on your thigh

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

she likes it when you put your fingers in her mouth after you've fingered her so she can clean everything up

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

she masturbated while looking at a picture of you when she was at camp in england

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

she wasn't really experienced when you met but she has learnt a lot

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

any position where you can eat her out

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

she likes to be a brat and make fun of you so that you know her place

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

sie liebt es wenn du sie von hinten nimmst und dabei an ihren haaren ziehst

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

she knows how rough you can be and that's why most intimacy is after sex

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

she usually mastuerbates when she is far away from you but it is never the same as when you touch her

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

she loves it when you have full control over her orgasms whether it's overstimulation or orgasm denial

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

mostly in your bed or on your kitchen counter

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

she is immediately turned on if you come anywhere near her thigh

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

a no is anal for her you often tried to persuade her but she always said no

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

she is always a loving receiver but she is extremely good with her tongue and likes to get between your legs

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

she likes it when you are rough and fast and the bed shakes

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

she likes quickies but wants to complete it the same evening

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

she doesn't want to be very risky she is afraid that someone will catch you and they will see you as she has you

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

Alessia can take many rounds and loves it when you overstimulate her

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

she has no toys for herself but she loves it when you use vibrators and straps on her

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

she often teases you when you don't have the chance to have sex just to enjoy the punishment in the evening

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Alessia is very loud, she literally screams

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

high she could have sex at any time

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

she takes longer to fall asleep because she needs more time to wind down

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗚𝗔𝗟𝗔𝗫𝗬 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟

　　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Matt has a crush on Y/N, an influencer extremely well-known in the USA, but when she goes to the Zach Sang Show, Matt discovers that she also has a crush on him. When the two meet at a party, how will Matt react?

REQUESTED?: Yes, from anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

"Hi beautiful people! I'm Zach, and that is Dan, and welcome to the studio for the first time after many requests, Y/N!" Zach began with his standard intro, the camera moving away from him and onto Y/N, who was sitting comfortably on the couch facing her microphone.

"Hii, wow... I've lost count of how many nights I've spent hours watching your show, Zach, so being here is an honor! Thank you so much for having me." Y/N spoke with a smile on her face, her eyes shining with excitement.

"It's amazing to have you here too. Believe me, the honor is ours." Zach replied, smiling just as much. "But tell me, how is life? Crazy, I imagine." He asked with a smile, taking in Y/N's features.

"Don't remind me, literally crazy! As I have Instagram, Tiktok, and YouTube to manage and post content every day, at least in one, I haven't had time to stop much, you know?" Y/N spoke while gesturing with her hands. "But it's been incredible. Over the past five years, I've loved every moment of it."

"I can only imagine, especially since you have a knack for fashion too, right? I see you a lot at events." Zach commented, taking a sip of his water.

"Yes, exactly. My content is a little bit of everything: humor, fashion, relationships, makeup, Q&A, day-to-day life, etc. I like this really mixed stuff." The girl let out a laugh when she finished.

"Yes, I think that's what attracts so many audiences to you too, right? You have subjects that cover all audiences." Zach commented, receiving a nod from the influencer. "And tell me a little about how it all started, from the beginning."

"Well, I've always been a person who loved to talk, my friends at school joked that if I sat next to an unknown person for ten minutes, within the first minute I would come up with a random topic and start a conversation." Y/N smiled when she heard Zach comment that that was something super interesting and traits of an extroverted person. "Plus, I've always liked having an audience and social media. I had Musical.ly many years ago, where I posted short makeup and hair videos."

"Wow, Musical.ly, I completely forgot it existed." Dan commented, laughing along with the other two.

"Yes, it looks like it was a crazy dream." Zach nodded, glancing briefly at Dan before returning his gaze to Y/N. "I saw some videos from that time. You once mentioned that you took makeup courses, right?"

"Yes, I took makeup courses at Make-up Forever Academy while I was at school. It's always been my favorite hobby." Y/N said, as she stirred her Starbucks coffee cup, her drink still warm. "And on Musical.ly, I only posted that, but over time, the app lost popularity, and people started looking for me on Instagram. At the time, my Instagram was pretty empty, I didn't post almost anything there, just some also makeup things. But then, I needed to change that since Instagram gave me a lot more tools to create more expansive content. It was the moment that I completely lost my shyness with cameras, you know? That's when I started talking about other things besides makeup and hair, and the audience grew. Famous people started following me as well, I remember I panicked about that." She paused, laughing, accompanied by Zach, who was listening intently.

"And my followers started asking for a YouTube channel, where I could make longer videos and each one about something specific. I thought a lot about it, but I took courage and created my channel, and it totally exploded, almost all of my followers from Instagram started to follow me there, but on YouTube the number of people doubled."

"It caught the attention of the public who only used YouTube, right?" Zach commented, nodding in understanding.

"Exactly! And I was just with this two social medias for a few years, until I discovered Tiktok, that's when I discovered that it was like an improved Musical.ly, and that a lot of people made content just on it. I remember thinking: why not? I was already fully on the Internet, and it wouldn't hurt to have another social network. The audience continued to grow, and there were shares all the time, likes, and comments, and with that, we reached 16 million subscribers on YouTube and 6 million followers on Tiktok and Instagram." Y/N finished, her face showing a smile as she momentarily remembered her long journey there.

"Your history with the Internet is truly incredible, you are one of the biggest influencers in the United States and well known all over the world, having started at 15 years old and fighting to grow and gain your own space." Zach praised, clapping playfully as Y/N waved her hand like it was nothing, her face turning red in embarrassment. "But you mentioned a subject I wanted to bring up: celebrities." He said, laughing when he saw the girl take on a fearful look.

"Jesus, what are you going to say?" Y/N asked with a smile on her face, she had already opened up her life and tastes so much to her audience, that she knew she would definitely have said something about celebrities that she didn't remember at that moment, but that Zach would bring up.

"There was a video on Tiktok where you were answering a question from a fan, who had asked what your favorite YouTube channel and your celebrity crush were." Zach began, approaching the microphone to his face. Y/N widened her eyes, taking a sip of her drink to hide her expression, vaguely remembering the video in question. "And you answered that your favorite channel was the Sturniolo Triplets and that your celebrity crush was Matt Sturniolo, is that correct?"

"Oh my God." Y/N muttered, hiding her red cheeks in her hands. "Yes, it is." She let out a nervous laugh. "The triplets are super funny, I just love their content! I'm not going to lie, I've never missed a video of them. I saw that Chris came here this year, right? I think their journey with YouTube is incredible." She said, Zach nodding as he confirmed that Chris had been on the show recently.

"They really are incredible people. Their content is gold. But, is Matt still your crush?" He asked again, looking at her with a smile on his face.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" Y/N asked as she smiled sheepishly. "Yes, he's still my crush. I mean, have you seen that man? He's hot, has an incredible sense of humor, and is kind! Just perfect, just no more than Harry Styles." She counted the characteristics mentioned with the fingers of her right hand, laughing when she mentioned the British singer, trying to take all attention away from her admission about her crush.

"Yeah, guys, it seems like if you're not Matt, or Harry, you don't enter Y/N's list." Zach joked, looking at the camera, receiving laughs from the other two there.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The triplets were lying on the sofa in their home, each in a corner of the space, while using their phones. Sounds of tiktoks and reels echoed through the walls.

Nick was on his tiktok, browsing his For You, watching the millions of edits that his fans made for them, some videos of other subjects appearing from time to time. The boy let out a laugh when he saw an edit of himself with clips taken from the last car video, double-clicking on the screen to give it a like before scrolling his thumb up, Y/N's voice suddenly sounding from his phone.

Nick took his thumb away from the screen momentarily, paying attention to what one of his favorite influencers was saying, smiling as he heard her tell a little about her history with social media.

His smile was replaced by wide eyes seconds later when the girl's comment about his channel with his brothers and about Matt sounded.

"What?" He asked loudly, catching the attention of Matt and Chris, who had confused looks on their faces.

"What what?" Chris asked, locking the screen of his phone and tossing it to the side.

Matt only looked up from his own phone screen momentarily, returning his attention to his Instagram feed.

"You know Y/N?" Nick asked, his eyes darting from Matt to Chris quickly.

"That super famous influencer that Matt has had a crush on for years? Yes." Chris agreed, nodding his head as he adjusted himself in his seat, receiving a slap on the arm from his brother, who lowered his cell the moment the girl's name left Nick's lips.

"She knows who we are, and not only that, she talked about us on Zach's show." The redhead said with wide eyes.

"Zach Sang?" Matt asked, receiving a nod from Nick, who got up and walked closer to his brothers, sitting between the two and raising his phone, increasing the screen brightness and volume before hitting play on the tiktok again.

The video was a compilation of the show's favorite moments with the influencer. The triplets watched in silence until they got to the part where Y/N talked about her channel, also confirming her crush on Matt. Chris quickly turned his face to Matt with his mouth open in shock.

"Matt, THE Y/N has a crush on you." Nick reinforced, pausing the video and turning to his brother, who had wide eyes as he looked at the phone that had Y/N's face on the screen, a disbelief look on his own face.

"That's crazy." He muttered, shaking his head in denial. "It's not possible that my longtime crush has a crush on me, too. That only happens in movies. Right?" Nick rolled his eyes at the comment.

"It might be crazy, but it's not a lie. She wouldn't talk about our channel and reveal her crush on you if it was a lie or a joke." Chris commented as he fixed the hood of his sweatshirt, earning a nod from Nick.

"Next week, there will be that huge and super chic party for the biggest influencers and YouTubers in the United States here in LA, and we received an invitation. I'm absolutely sure she will be there. It would be a great opportunity to make contact with other YouTubers and get to know her, maybe even ask her to participate in a video with us." Nick reminded his brothers of the invitation, locking his phone screen and looking at the two.

"Are you sure about that?" Matt asked, an expression of uncertainty on his face. Out of the three, he was the least fond of parties, although none of them were very fond of it either.

"It would be great for the channel, Matt." Chris reinforced, shrugging. "It wouldn't hurt to try. If we don't like it, we can leave right away. But meeting Y/N seems amazing to me right now, and it would be a great opportunity for you."

"Okay."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"Are you guys sure about this?" Matt asked after turning off the key in the ignition, keeping his hands on the wheel as he looked ahead, his ears picking up the loud sound coming from the party.

"Matt, it's just going to be a test, okay? It's interesting for us to make more contacts." Nick responded from the backseat, resting his hands on the sides of the front seats as he looked in the rearview mirror, waiting for Matt to look back.

Matt looked up, focusing on Nick through the mirror, who had a neutral expression. The boy shifted his gaze to Chris beside him, who was already looking at him.

Chris offered a reassuring smile, taking his left hand to Matt's right shoulder, squeezing the area.

Matt exhaled deeply as he mentally prepared himself. It had been years since he had attended such a big party.

It didn't take long for the triplets to get out of the vehicle. Matt locked the doors before they started their walk to the mansion where the loud sound of pop music was coming from.

Nick quickly pulled from the pocket of his jeans the invitation he had received in the mail that stated his and his brothers' names on expensive-looking paper and beautiful writing, holding it ready to present to the security guards at the front.

After being granted entry, the three entered the house, stopping for a few seconds at the beginning of the living room while their eyes traveled over the people there, recognizing some of their social media.

The mansion was extremely chic, decorated with golden tones and diamond chandeliers, long marsala red curtains covered the huge windows and columns that resembled those of Greek temples were spread throughout the space, along with two staircases in each hemisphere of the room with wooden handrails and a red carpet that led upstairs.

Youtubers, influencers, and celebrities filled the space, talking or dancing, some drinking, dressed in extravagant and expensive clothes.

Chris surreptitiously pointed to a specific point, making his brothers look there.

"That's Y/N, right?" He asked, earning a nod from Nick.

To Matt, the earth seemed to have stopped spinning, and the world seemed to have become static. The celebrities in the room suddenly stopped, the sound became muffled, and the smell of drinks and perfume disappeared. His breathing seemed to catch, and his throat felt dry.

Y/N looked perfect, having opted for an all-silver outfit: a mid-length skirt with a thigh-high slit from Diesel draped in synthetic silver along with a white crop top also from Diesel adorned her body. A pair of thin silver high heels decorated her feet, complemented by a silver Diesel bag and jewelry in the same color.

She looked like she came out of one of those galaxy movies, but much prettier than its characters.

Matt could have watched her from afar for seconds or minutes, just admiring her beauty and every detail of herself, but it still seemed to be too quick for his liking. Nick woke him from his hypnosis with a weak slap to his chest, getting his attention.

"You definitely don't know how to disguise it." He commented, rolling his eyes.

"Shut up, Nick." Matt responded quickly, frowning and briefly looking at Y/N again, before turning to his brothers. "I'm going to get something to drink, are you coming?" He asked, needing a cold soda at that moment.

Chris nodded, answering for himself and Nick, following his middle brother to the bar that was in the separation between the kitchen and the living room.

The space was extremely chic, a circle-shaped bar with a gold colored counter decorated with details in yellow and navy blue tiles, giving an air of wealth. At the front there were stools with synthetic gold upholstery and at the back, after the space where the bartender circulated, there was a large circular and high table filled with all types of drinks, including the most expensive ones.

Matt leaned his hips against the counter, choosing not to sit down, and glanced briefly at the bartender.

Nick sat on the stool next to him and Chris sat next to Nick, the two starting a conversation about a subject that Matt didn't pay attention to, his attention focused on the people around him, or rather, on one specific person.

His blue eyes went back and forth to Y/N's silhouette, admiring her from afar as he wished to be by her side, accompanying her and being the person she was talking to.

The girl next to Y/N and who had been talking to her since the moment Matt entered the room walked away, saying something while blowing an air kiss to the influencer, who smiled in response and turned around, facing where Matt was, but not looking directly at him, running her eyes around the people while taking sips of her drink, probably alcoholic.

Matt took a deep breath as he gathered his courage, straightening up and starting to take long steps towards the girl, crossing the room and passing among the famous people there.

"Matt, what do you want to- Matt?" Nick began, turning to where Matt was and stopping mid-sentence when he saw that his brother was no longer there.

"He's on his way to get his pot of gold." Chris commented, poking Nick with the index finger of his left hand and pointing at Matt, who was already approaching Y/N.

The brunette stopped next to Y/N, turning so that he was also facing the people around and shoulder to shoulder with her, a few centimeters between them. His hands were in the front pockets of his jeans as he breathed slowly, trying to calm his nerves.

And then her voice sounded like it was the easiest thing she'd done all day. Her voice was silky in person, so inducing that it sent goosebumps across Matt's skin.

"You were working up the courage to say hi..." She lifts the glass, taking another sip, her lips shiny with gloss and bright red lipstick, her tongue escaping her mouth momentarily, licking the residue of the drink there. "Or would you just stare at me all night?" She turned around, facing him.

Matt almost choked on his own saliva as he heard Y/N confirm that not only had she noticed he was there, but she had also noticed that he had been looking at her this entire time. A weight settled in his chest. Perhaps it was shame or lust due to the way she said that without reservation.

"I didn't mean to disturb you. You seemed quite engaged in your conversation." He made up an excuse, knowing full well that he could have gone to the girl from the moment he arrived, but his fear of what would happen held him back.

"Engaged? In a conversation about who here has the most money and fame?" Y/N threw back, furrowing her eyebrows.

Matt looked around them, stopping his eyes briefly on the girl who had previously spoken to Y/N and who was now watching the people with a gaze torn between judgment and desire. A loud laugh escaped his lips as he shook his head in denial, the pettiness of some people impressed him.

"For what it's worth, you're the only famous person here that interests me." Matt commented, his blue eyes focusing on Y/N's face, analyzing her closely. An expression of satisfaction came over his face as he saw a red color take over her cheeks.

"You flatter me, Matt." Y/N looks back at him, their eyes meeting for a few long seconds, before hers travel across Matt's face, mentally taking note of every detail she could notice in the few seconds.

The boy smiled arrogantly when he saw her eyes on him, receiving an eye roll in response.

"Do you like what you see?" He asked, his voice taking a deeper tone and his pupil dilating as his lips stretched into a smirk.

"Don't let it go to your head." Y/N responded as she scoffed playfully, allowing the beginning of a smirk to emerge on the right corner of her lip.

At that moment, Matt felt like he could do something, anything, that would make her smile like that again or smile a bigger smile. He thought of a million possibilities of what he could say to cause that reaction in her, longing to feel the butterflies in his stomach again.

"You look beautiful tonight." Matt praised, his blue eyes traveling over Y/N's body momentarily, returning to her eyes. "Not that you just look beautiful tonight. You always look beautiful. But today you..." The boy tried to justify, getting caught on his words. "Look perfect."

A sigh escaped his lips, an apologetic look taking over his eyes as his right hand scratched the back of his neck lightly, feeling like a complete idiot for getting tangled up in front of the girl he has a crush on.

"I'm sorry, this isn't how I pictured myself meeting you." He groaned, looking at the ground in shame, hoping something would surge and save him.

"So you imagined meeting me?" Y/N smiled, feeling arrogant. She bit her bottom lip, feeling smug as she watched Matt blush and his eyes widen. "I'm kidding. You look beautiful tonight, too." Y/N let out a low laugh, returning the previous compliment, running her tongue between her lips, wetting them as her eyes traveled over Matt, pausing lingeringly on his exposed collarbone with the tank top he was wearing, the necklaces that decorated his neck made her mouth water.

Before Matt could even open his mouth to answer her, the sound of footsteps approached, catching both their attention. Y/N tore her eyes away from Matt's blue ones and looked ahead, seeing the same girl from before approaching again, holding herself back from instantly rolling her eyes.

The boy realized that the conversation would change direction and that, perhaps, he would no longer be included in it. A subtle sigh escaped his lips, and he tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans again, looking at Y/N briefly, realizing that she was already looking back.

"I'm sorry." She asked, pressing her painted lips into a thin line before a beautiful, wide smile replaced it. "Text me on Instagram. You will be my priority to respond." Y/N spoke before being gently pulled away by her "friend", turning her face back quickly and sending the brunette a wink before looking forward again.

Matt watched her from behind as her high-heeled legs took long, quick steps away from him, a goofy smile taking over his features. He would definitely send that text.

[madschiavelique]

𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

summary : after your little late night training, you came back to your room once more thinking about miguel, and got called just a bit later to get on a mission. you’re all paired up, miguel ending up with you, and let’s just say the mission takes a different turn… or you give miguel a handjob in public toilets while on a mission

content warning : SMUT (18+) minors dni, handjob, miguel is so desperate i swear, no use of Y/N, so much tension word count : 4,2k

note : this bitch became so long i had to make it a 4shot instead of a 3shot, enjoy besties (proofreading is on-going on this one <3)

chapters' list : 1 - love bite 2 - late night training 3 - unexpected mission (nsfw) 4 - shameless (nsfw)

tag list : @marit332 @coralineyouareinterribledanger @sunnyx07 @mamamiriamxo @l3laze @amy180801 @gojos-goth-gf

Needless to say, after that fortunate nocturnal encounter, you couldn't sleep at all as your thoughts about Miguel multiplied. You replayed the scene in your mind as if you were putting the diamond back to the favourite tune on your latest vinyl, his hands on your body as he readjusted your position, the tumble into which he had dragged you...

"Distracted?"

You rolled over onto your side of the bed, pressing your pillow against your chest. You thought back to the circular movements he was making on your waist with his thumb, to his darkened eyes, to his lips as he prepared to kiss you...

"There?"

You buried your head in your pillow, clutching it tightly under your fingers, your heart dropping into your stomach. And his canines had traced your skin, had trailed dangerously over the line of your pulse in your throat, intimately. You realised that he could very well have torn open your throat and made you bleed out in his arms, but instead, he chose to kiss.

"This is not over."

You would have tried to knock yourself out to get some sleep, but there was nothing you could do. Every minute, every moment, every bit of your attention was riveted on it. So you tried to put on some music, to relax, to put your thoughts on something else. But the taste of his lips on yours kept coming back.

What would have happened if Lyla hadn't interrupted you?

But one thought kept coming to the fore: the attraction is mutual. This simple idea made your heart swell.

Less than an hour later, however, just as sleep and rest were finally opening their arms to you, you were summoned to Miguel's office with some other spiders. So, tired but trying to stay alert, you hurried over there.

The situation Lyla had mentioned was the reason for the call. It seemed that several anomalies had found their way simultaneously into one single dimension, which led to Hobie, Gwen, Pavitr, Peter B, Miguel and you getting together at almost dawn to deal with the situation.

Everyone yawned till their jaws unhooked as the situation was explained, and all you could do was stare at Miguel. He didn't look too good either, but he hid it well, as always. He met your gaze only a few times, an indecipherable indifference in place.

Suddenly, a single, particularly gruelling thought came to the surface, and you felt as if your heart was going to come crush on itself like a tin can.

What if, at any moment, he were to pull you aside and say, "About what happened last night, forget it." You swallowed, caressing the hope that this discussion wouldn't come up.

Who knows, after all, maybe he just wanted to keep it a secret for the time being? You didn't mind the idea, there's always a certain excitement in secrecy.

"Hi there!"

You jumped slightly, placing your hand on your heart as you turned to Layla. The thing that made her so dangerous was that your spider-senses couldn't possibly predict or allow you to sense anything about her presence.

"Oops, sorry for the jumpscare," she smiled with a little shrug of her shoulder, "sooo about this situation with Miguel, how do you feel?" she asked, speaking much more quietly.

"What?" you said, looking around to make sure no spiders were paying attention to your discussion. "I mean... I don't know. We haven't really had time to talk about it." You rubbed the back of your neck lightly, feeling at a loss to reveal the countless thoughts that were monopolising your entire mind. "You mentioned earlier that... he's been keeping an eye on me. What did you mean by that ?”

"Mhm," she said, looking around, but not out of concern for the others, out of concern that Miguel might catch her talking to you. "Well if you wanna know, from time to time since the last mission you were here, the big guy would ask for your location and open a tab with the camera of the place you were in. Pretty creepy in my opinion," she laughed under her breath, "but his main argument was always about 'the bullet' and how 'gotta make sure you're doing better'," she mimicked him. "So yeah, things like that. I mean, he did mention some stuff-"

"What stuff?" you asked, hanging on her every word.

"I think he might've been struggling to find the right reason to approach you-"

"Layla!" shouted Miguel, irritation evident in his tone.

"Ugh, would've loved to chat with you more but Happy over there requests me. See ya!"

In less time than it takes to bat an eyelash, her pixels flew across the room to Miguel. The latter raised his index finger as if to berate his child, and you couldn't help but smile at the scene.

So Miguel had been keeping an eye on you all this time?

You didn't have that much time to wonder about it, though, because the portal to the dimension in question had just been opened.

"Here here ladies and gentlemen! called Layla, "To make the mission easier, we've split into duos so we don't end up like last time when it was a mess and we called for reinforcements," she cleared her throat and announced with pleasant surprise that the groups would be Hobie with Gwen, Peter with Pavitr, and finally Miguel and you. At the end, she winked at you. "Hop hop hop, let's get going!"

Miguel rolled his eyes and jerked his head in the direction of the gate before pulling his mask over his face.

As soon as you arrived, some sort of completely absurd lorry sped through the city, bumping into almost every street corner, the shape of the vehicle changing with each impact. One minute it was an ice cream truck, the next it was a military van, and so on.

"Who's driving? Stevie Wonder?" blurted Peter.

"Your powers of deduction leave me speechless," Pavitr gasped.

A sort of heavyweight surrounded by lots of red dentured toys walking all around him had built himself a ring at a crossroads with electric cables and cars to mark out his arena. He seemed to be calling out to anyone who thought they were strong enough to take him on in a fight, with anyone who got even a little too close being attacked and chased by the countless toys.

As for the third anomaly, there was still no sign of it. Miguel turned to the group.

" Alright, Gwen, Hobie, you're in charge of fast and furious," pointed Miguel.

"No problem, I'll show them!" confirmed Gwen as she took off.

"Go on, make us dream," added Peter.

"Pavitr and Peter, you'll be working on John Cena," ordered Miguel, as the duo took off, "as for us...".

Just then, in the distance, there was a strange, hoarse rumbling sound, not very loud, but perceptible enough for your keen senses.

"Here's the job," you confirmed, jumping up and pulling your web to get to the site.

The situation was a bit complicated, with three anomalies wreaking havoc all over the city at the same time, it was a serious quota.

The one chasing you now was particularly repulsive and complex. The enemy was... deformed, aesthetically flawed in the sense that its entire being was made up of a sort of light beige bubbly paste, simply resembling bread dough that had been left to rise overnight. The anomaly moved blindly, its being devoid of bones or joints smearing itself slimily over the surfaces it attacked and dragging itself along without the trace it left behind ever stripping it of its own material. Its gaping, open mouth resembled that of a sad theatrical mask, yet thanks to what you and Miguel had understood, this creature could identify surroundings by sound.

The key would have been to make no noise at all, but given that in a bustling city sound was unavoidable, the anomaly kept attacking anything that made even a little too much noise.

"The voice of wisdom is mute, it speaks in sign language, I can make out a middle finger crossing a circle made of a thumb and a index that stick together", Hobie had sung when you had crossed paths at one point, him and Gwen still chasing the lorry that looked like the ones that circuses use to pass through towns, warning of their shows with a megaphone.

The sound of this movement displeased the anomaly and it began to chase him, Miguel grumbling that intertwining anomalies was never a good thing.

It was necessary to divert this flabby paste and attract its attention, and find a way of neutralising it. Miguel tried to throw a multi-dimensional cell at it, but it simply sank into the dough without activating.

"Oh come on really?!" he raged, the thing suddenly turning towards him.

"Hey!" you called in the beast's direction, whistling loudly as it came towards you with that inverted smile. "Come on, come and get me," you smiled, rushing towards the inside of a shopping centre that had been completely evacuated as it closed in on you.

You ran, whistling to attract it.

Honestly, you had absolutely no idea how to confront this thing. You tried throwing a web at it, trying to see if it had any effect, but the web sank into the pile of dough miserably.

Dammit. Maybe clawing would have an effect? You stopped, positioning yourself, calling to it again, extending your claws.

It was hurtling towards you, and your uncertainty was growing with every metre less between it and you. And just as you thought you'd be swallowed up by the bubbly, viscous mass, you were pulled back by a neon-red web that had wrapped itself around your waist.

Miguel had just pulled you against him with one of his webs, distancing you as far as possible from the creature as he threw a web at a shop opposite selling some sort of plush toy that made a noise when pressed. The anomaly rushed at it, creating a cacophony of childish music and tearing as he led you down a corridor nearby.

"Are you looking to die by landing in front of it like that?" growled Miguel in a whisper.

"What can I say, I guess a brush with death is part of my beauty-seduction panoply."

He let out a small laugh, but shook his head to compose himself, "I'd rather you not die, please. Unless you're doing this on purpose to repeat the episode of your gunshot wound?" his hand came to rest on the spot of your old injury, a breath catching in your throat.

You flinched, he'd touched a sensitive spot. You could hear the anomaly in the distance as it fiercely pursued its quest for silence by destroying all the stuffed animals and other objects that might produce any sound.

"Silence suddenly suits you," Miguel murmured, his fingers brushing against your thigh again.

You swallowed, the sensations you'd felt at his touch just over an hour ago spreading through your body again. Did he want to tease you in a situation like this? Well, so would you.

You took off your mask, trying not to let the effect he was having on you show too much, even though the urge was overwhelming, and moved a little closer to him, putting your hand on his thigh. Your knuckles brushed against his covered skin, a smile forming on your lips. You were now close, only a dozen centimetres separating your two faces. His mask depixelised, revealing him staring at you with half-closed eyelids, breathing slowly as your hand came up to his hip, your fingers gently tracing it. He was watching your face with particular interest, calm and curious.

You placed your other hand on his chest, letting it slide down the side of his suit until it reached his back, your gaze never wavering from his. You tilted your head back slightly, feeling no need to overdo it given the fact that he was so tall. Then, bringing your face a little closer to his without reaching him, your hand came to the small of his back and your middle finger traced his spine from bottom to top, his body undulating as he contracted his jaw, letting out a sigh of ease, his eyelids closing.

You brought your lips to his ear, whispering as low as you could:

"I heard you've been watching me?"

You tilted your head to the side, returning to find his eyes, watching his eyebrows furrow at your remark, his upper lip curling slightly to show his canines as his lips formed a soundless "layla?"

You nodded softly, moving closer to his face again, your eyelids brushing his cheek as your hand reached further up his inner thigh, slightly higher than the midpoint between his knee and his crotch, his breath catching on the crook of your neck.

"So?" you whispered again, intimacy mixing with fear of being spotted by the anomaly.

"I did... I do." he breathed, his hand coming to rest on your waist until it pulled you back, pressing you a little more against the wall behind you. The contact made your body burn, his fingers the cause of that hungry fire.

His nose brushed against yours, "Had to make sure you were alright," he breathed.

"Is that the only reason?" you asked, your forehead pressed to his.

His thumb circled your hip in an almost hypnotic way.

"Maybe not," he admitted, his lips brushing yours.

"Hey guys- OUCH! How're you handling the situation ?" crackled Peter's voice coming from your watch and Miguel's. The anomaly immediately swivelled in your direction, "I'm never making fun of dentures again!"

Shit.

The anomaly leapt towards you, and Miguel grabbed your wrist to pull you away from it. You made your way through the maze of corridors with their light marbled floors. You watched your surroundings, trying to find a sound distraction. Not far from a stationary escalator was one of the typical pianos available to everyone in stations or shopping centres like this one. You threw a web over the keys, a strange chord playing for a moment, perfectly distracting the anomaly as you ran elsewhere.

Miguel drew you in when he noticed the distinctive toilet sign.

You went straight into a cubicle and locked the door. Out of breath, you leaned against one of the walls of the small space, trying to calm your breathing, fearing that the creature would spot you with a tiny noise like that.

When the racket seemed to die down, you relaxed and tilted your head back, resting it against the wall as you looked at Miguel through your eyelashes. The cabin wasn't big enough to accommodate two people without them being close together. It was even more complicated with the space Miguel took up, and that's precisely how close you were at the moment, close, your eyes connected tirelessly. You felt as if the air was electric with him, as if hundreds of tingles of closeness were crackling under your skin and he was drawing them all in his direction.

He breathed in, and his torso bulged until it brushed against you. His eyes locked with yours and looked down at your lips for a moment, then he moved forward a little to get even closer, putting his hand next to your head on the wall, and when his gaze returned to yours, the colour of his irises had turned red.

His height and width towered over you, and the impossibility of going anywhere became obvious. Not that you wanted to run away, on the contrary. He tilted his head to one side, his nose pressing against the soft skin of your cheek.

"I couldn't get you out of my mind... so I kept an eye on you," he admitted, resuming your earlier conversation, breathing softly, bringing his nose closer to your neck and inhaling your scent almost drunkenly as his hair tickled your face. "The taste of your skin, your voice, the feel of your fingers in my hair..."

You gently brought your hand to his shoulder, sliding it to the nape of his neck and snaking your fingers through his hair, raking your nails through it while he let out a shaky, breathy moan.

"Yeah, that," he grumbled quietly against the skin of your neck, feverish, his lips brushing against it and sending shivers down the rest of your spine as his other hand slid up the small of your back and pulled you to him until your two bodies were touching.

He began to kiss your neck as if its skin were the only thing capable of quenching his thirst, revelling in your scent and the warmth that emanated from it, tracing the line of your pulse with his tongue from bottom to top as it rushed under the sensation, letting a moan of ease rise from the depths of your throat at the same time.

His hand moved down your side to your hip, leaving in its wake a powder of stars that sparkled in your body and made you feel warm in your lower stomach. He ran his hand down to your thigh, grasping it between his powerful fingers as his fangs grazed the skin of your exposed neck, his other hand pulling on the collar of your suit to uncover a bit more of it. His hand was closing on your thigh, gripping it tightly and squeezing until you felt his claws digging into your still-covered skin, a strangled gasp rattling in your throat as his grip on it pulled you a little closer to him.

And you felt it, that hardness pressed against your thigh. Your heart skipped a beat, and a little knot of warmth sprang up in your belly. You lowered your eyes slightly, and they landed on his erection pressed through the fabric of his suit.

Oh shit. Big.

His fangs traced the skin of your neck dangerously, pressing harder, ready to bite as you breathed out in a whisper: "Wouldn't this be inappropriate during a mission ?"

He exhaled, his low growl reverberating against your neck as he kissed it.

"Hm't can wait," he mumbled incoherently, completely intoxicated by your skin and the sensation of your two bodies so close.

You had to control yourself so that your knees didn't give out on you, it was as if they were made of jelly; boneless, useless muscles surrounding nothing at all. The effect he had on you set your body aglow, heat pooling in your lower back as a fire had started in your abdomen, completely bewitched by his touch and the sensations he provoked in you.

A warm cloud had taken up residence in your lower belly, spreading under your skin, and every movement he made and every breath he breathed on your skin only warmed it, making it expand as much as it tightened.

Looking for a place to anchor yourself, you put your hand on his hip, your fingers still in his hair, tightening a little. He let out a hoarse moan, resting his forehead on your shoulder. Unconsciously, or simply eager for the sensations, his hips had started grinding on their own on your thigh.

It was then that this simple fact occurred to you: you had as much power over him as he had over you.

The thought did not leave you indifferent, not in the least. The simple idea that with a light rub of your fingers you could set off fireworks of pleasure and expectation in him suddenly gave you an exceptional feeling of power.

So you turned your head to kiss his hair tenderly as your hand slowly moved down the distance between his hip and his crotch. His grip on your thigh tightened, but that didn't stop your hand from continuing its trajectory until it reached his groin, tracing the covered skin with your fingertips without continuing your approach.

Miguel's breath mingled with the lament in his voice, and what a beautiful sound it was. Staying like this, tracing the junction between his pelvis and his thigh, was a particularly hot temptation.

"...wer." grumbled Miguel.

You had a pretty good idea what that word was, but just for the sake of it, you asked:

"Say that again."

He let out a groan as your fingers continued their incessant, static waltzing over his groin.

"Lower," he managed to articulate.

You smiled, then, to relieve him, brought your hand against his cock, twitching at the contact of your fingers. A sigh of relief mixed with a ragged moan vibrated through his chest, a slight spasm gripping his hips as your index finger traced his length from base to tip. His pelvis undulated further against the contact, seeking more friction, more heat, simply and preciously seeking more.

Your face, until then hidden in his hair, moved forward until your lips whispered in his ear:

"Like it when I touch you there?"

And you saw his skin shiver like one of an orange, his shoulders relaxing as he let out a "Hmpf" of approval, his hips undulating, craving the single touch of your fingers on him. You could now definitely feel his claws pressing against your thigh and just hoped it wouldn't damage your suit again.

So you wrapped your hand around him, finger by finger, close to the tip of his head, your thumb resting on top of it, making circular movements at a painfully slow pace. You could feel the moisture soaking the digital fabric there as Miguel's breath hitched.

Your lips still close to his cheek came to kiss him softly, moving down his jaw and a little further into his neck, letting your nose brush gently against his skin. Your kisses and the slight movement of your hand seemed to have a particularly pleasurable effect on him.

Since his erection was against his body, you couldn't properly enclose it, but you could see that if you tried to close the loop around it, you wouldn't be able to get your thumb and fingers to come together and touch, and that width impressed you as much as it intimidated you. After all, there's a fine line between fear and reverence.

Nonetheless, you slowly began to lower your fingers, now angled to embrace him as best you could over the thin fabric, then gently moved upwards, slightly twisting your hand near his tip.

A trembling sigh escaped from between his lips as his hand, hitherto resting on the nape of your neck, nestled close to your hair, gripping lightly as he straightened his head to meet your gaze. Needless to say, his eyes were darkened by desire, his jaw clenching.

You continued your movements, switching from the gentle, slow rhythm you'd started with to something a little more sped up, occasionally letting your thumb stop just below his tip, making gentle movements with it that drew moans of ease from him against your ear.

"How does that feel?" you asked, your voice barely audible, kissing his cheek softly.

"Coño," he sighed, coming to kiss your cheekbone "like heaven.” His thumb was rubbing over your neck, gently.

His hips became more insistent, seeking more friction and warmth, eager for anything you could offer him. He sprinkled little kisses interspersed with moans locked against his teeth, his fangs inadvertently grazing your skin, cheek against cheek, his sighs landing on your ear in a warm cloud.

"Don’t stop," he sighed, "don’t stop…"

His voice was deeper, low as his breathing started speeding up.

"Hey guys, we're almost over here, what about you?" Pavitr's voice echoed in the cabin, and you both gasped.

A mass commotion outside: the anomaly had heard your watches sizzling perfectly again, and you could hear it moving insistently towards you. The poor guy would have to wait, because ending up dead in a public toilet choked by a mass of dough was not on your agenda.

"Looks like the fun will have to wait," you whispered to him as you removed your hand from his erection, moving aside to open the door, but the hand that had been resting on your thigh moved up to grip your waist.

"What are you doing?" he snarled, his eyebrows furrowed, panting.

"I'm trying to stay alive and finish my mission," you replied with a mischievous grin as you could hear the door to the toilet entrance shatter.

The fire that burned in your body at his touch was still there... Well, yes, the fire! Yes, fire!

If this creature was made of dough, that meant it could bake. So perhaps it would become solid enough to be placed in a cell.

"This is not over," you whispered to him before starting to replace your mask to leave.

But he prevented the gesture from being completed in time to kiss you, chastely yet passionately. Your heart dropped warmly into your belly as you responded to his kiss.

He stroked your cheek with his thumb for a moment, his brown eyes gleaming with a mixture of frustration and hunger.

The dough paced up and down the corridor, and you leapt to the top of the cubicle, silently trying to pass over each of the toilets to reach the exit.

next part >> shameless (nsfw)

[capquinn]

Homeward | Q. Hughes

summary: 3 times you both dream about the future + the one time you’re finally living it pairing: fem!reader x quinn hughes content: nothing but sweet, sweet baby talk word count: 3.5k ↪ masterlist

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Quinn has always been a family guy.

And even now, his actions speak loudly of the family values that shape him. He never misses an opportunity to weave his parents and brothers into his day even when thousands of miles seperate them so it hadn’t been a complete surprise when Quinn first mentioned his desire for a family of his own.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Quinn has always been a family guy.

Growing up in the Hughes household had been like living in a constant embrace of love and laughter with enduring sounds of chaos — the clatter of hockey sticks on the driveway, the hum of conversations around the dinner table and the inexplicable bickering between brothers. But most of all, it was the magical winters on the frozen pond behind their house that Quinn cherished the most. Spending hours with his dad learning how to skate, hanging onto every single piece of advice and words of encouragement, and how his mom always had cups of hot chocolate waiting for them when the cold finally drove them inside. The joy of spontaneous family road trips; the confidence that came with knowing his parents were always in the crowd, cheering him on; and the comfort of returning home. Those moments were etched into Quinn’s memory.

He remembers growing up wishing he would find someone the way his parents had found each other, and by some miracle, he had found it. He recalls the way his parents looked at each other, a silent communication that spoke volumes. Love unwavering. Evident in the small gestures that often went unnoticed by others but meant everything to Quinn. The way his dad would always wake up before his mom just so he could bring her a cup of tea to enjoy quietly in bed, or the way his mom would leave little notes in his dad’s lunchbox, small reminders that she loved and adored him. It was the way they always prioritised family dinners, making sure to sit down together no matter how busy their lives became. The way they listened to each other with patience and respect, even during disagreements.

They showed Quinn that love wasn’t just about grand gestures but about showing up every single day and making the choice to love the other.

And even now, Quinn’s actions speak loudly of the family values that shape him. He never misses an opportunity to weave his parents and brothers into his day even when thousands of miles seperate them.

He’s a family guy through and through so it hadn’t been a complete surprise when Quinn first mentioned his desire for a family of his own.

“I want that,” he murmurs, almost to himself, watching his teammate holding his toddler, making her laugh and smile. The words slip out before he can catch them.

You turn to him, eyes shimmering. “What, kids?” You ask, a small smile tugging at your lips, though you both know the answer.

Quinn scratches the back of his neck, and a flush starts to creep over his skin. He clears his throat, as if the action would be enough to get rid of any other lingering thoughts that might catch you both off guard.

“Yeah, y’know, the whole thing,” he affirms with a nod, nice and concise. He sneaks a sideways glance your way and when he meets your eyes and you smile, he feels his cheeks start to burn crimson so he casts his gaze away again, heart hammering at lightning speed in his chest. Nervous to hear your response

“‘The whole thing,’” you muse, heart skipping a beat at his words and everything in between. All the things you’re both too shy to say aloud just yet, but you understand all the same.

A too big house with a little bit of land that you can grow into with children and a dog or two. Swatching paint colours on bare nursery walls, and putting together a crib that will see all your children through their infancy. Introducing you as his wife and him as your husband. The patter of running feet and slamming of doors. The first summer by the lakeside with a tiny human who was half you and half him. Cups of tea in bed and love letters tucked into hidden pockets for him to find at away games. Late nights followed by freakishly early mornings. The chaos of family gatherings and having everyone all together all at once. The excitement of seeing you and your children standing in the crowd, cheering him on, and the thrill of meeting his eyes across the ice. Sick days on the couch. Bedtime stories. Homemade Halloween costumes. Friday movie nights. The whole thing.

“Hopefully someday,” he adds bashfully after he realises the weight of his confession, cheeks pink, circling an arm around your waist.

Butterflies flutter in your stomach, frantically dazed and desperately relieved to hear that everything you hope for he hopes for, too.

With a shy smile, you lean into him. “Definitely someday,” you simply reply.

It’s then that Quinn realises that his dreams are no longer distant aspirations. They are tangible and in reach.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

The sun is beginning to drop below the horizon, casting golden hues over the Hughes’ sprawling backyard. The air filled with the hum of conversation and laughter, mingling with the faint smell of barbecue. The patio bustling with family members from all stretches of the country, all coming together for the annual summer family reunion, and Quinn is at the heart of it. Leaning against the railing, chatting animatedly with his cousins and relishing in time well spent with those he cherishes the most.

“Are you and the boys planning another fishing trip this offseason?” His cousin Dan asks, grinning as he takes a sip of his drink.

“Yeah, we’re thinking about heading up to the cabin again. The spot by the lake was great last time,” Quinn replies. “I caught a bass that was almost as big as my arm.”

“That’s right. Jack swore up and down that he had one just as big but it got away.”

He laughs, “he’s never living that down.”

Laughter ripples through the group but it’s cut short when Luke approaches, tapping his brother on the shoulder.

“Hey, Quinny, have you seen your girlfriend? She disappeared on me.” He tosses a football between his hands. “Think she’s scared of losing our bet.”

“I tell you every time — don’t bet against her. You always lose,” he warns, looking over his shoulder, half expecting to find you hovering in the kitchen and trying to be useful as you always were. When you’re not, his brows scrunch together, and he turns back to his brother, quietly surprised.

Luke shakes his head, laughing. “Not this time.” He rests the football under his arm and places his other hand on his hip. “We’re betting on who can kick the furthest field goal. It’ll be the easiest twenty bucks I’ll ever make,” he says confidently.

Quinn nods, not quite believing his brother. Sure, Luke is taller and stronger but somehow you always have luck on your side. A divine intervention that always saw that you pocketed the winnings.

“I’ve gotta see this,” he chuckles. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he tells his brother.

Quinn excuses himself from his cousins and as he makes his way inside the house, he’s greeted by the delicious aromas of various dishes being prepared in the kitchen.

He skilfully dodges around his Aunt Linda, who is juggling a hot tray of cookies, and then squeezes past his Uncle Bob, who is vigorously stirring a pot of chilli, just as his mom catches his eye.

“Oh, hey, Quinn, taste this!” Ellen calls out, holding out a wooden spoon coated with a rich, savoury sauce. “Tell me if it needs more salt.”

He obliges, stepping closer towards his mom and taking the spoon. He tastes the sauce, savouring the layers of flavour. “Nope, it's perfect. You, uh…,” Quinn's eyes are drawn to the doorway of the living room, where he can just make out your voice. “You always nail it,” he tells her, distracted.

As she takes the spoon back, her eyes follow Quinn's gaze towards the living room.

You’re sitting comfortably in an armchair, cradling cousin Kate’s newborn baby. Face lit with a gentle smile as you coo softly to the baby, eyes sparkling with joy.

The unassuming longing for ‘the whole thing’ quietly transforms into a fervent hope. A hope that is surfacing in the most unexpected moment, and now, it’s impossible for Quinn not to imagine you holding your own child one day, introducing the newest and smallest Hughes to the family. His mom, eyes brimming with tears, leaning in close, fingers gently tracing the back a tiny hand. Jack and Luke, unable to contain their excitement, hovering over your shoulder, each vying for a better view of the newest member of the family, and his dad standing close by, watching everyone fawn over the little one.

Ellen follows his gaze and smiles knowingly. “She’s wonderful with babies, isn’t she? It suits her.”

Quinn nods, blinking away his daydreams, though unable to tear his eyes away. “Yeah, it does,” he agrees softly, voice filled with a mix of admiration and affection.

Ellen squeezes his arm gently. “Go on, then. You don’t want to miss this.”

Taking her advice, Quinn navigates the rest of the way through the kitchen, weaving around the busy cooks and stepping into the living room.

You look up as he approaches, smile widening and eyes twinkling with a warmth that makes him feel even more at home.

“There you are,” you greet, voice barely above a whisper. “Come and say hi.”

Quinn moves closer, settling on the arm of the chair to get a better look at the baby nestled in your arms. The baby, fast asleep, looks peaceful and content. Tiny fists curled in a way that makes his heart race. He reaches out hesitantly to brush his finger over her cheek.

“Would you like to hold her?” You offer, watching his face soften.

He nods silently, positioning himself in a way that allows him to take the baby carefully into his arms. She starts to stir during the exchange, eyes squeezing tight, so Quinn starts swaying side to side, fixing the swaddle tighter around her tiny body. It’s enough to settle her, and with a crisis avoided, Kate grins.

“Natural, isn’t he?” she remarks, glancing in your direction.

You smile proudly. “I think he’s got a hidden talent.”

Quinn laughs lightly, trying to stay cool despite the blush creeping up his cheeks. “Hidden talent? You make it sound like I’ve been practicing in secret.”

Kate chuckles. “Well, you’re doing a great job for someone who hasn’t.”

He glances down at the baby, feeling a rush of emotions as the tiny life rests against his chest. The delicate weight, the rise and falls of her breaths and dainty features. It makes him feel a connection he hadn’t anticipated. A surge of readiness for ‘the whole thing.’

It’s fleeting, but glimpses of the future flash through his mind. He can almost hear the hum of a soft lullaby and feel the rhythm of rocking a sleepy baby in the wee hours of the morning. It’s a future he has always envisioned but perhaps hadn’t fully embraced until now.

You lean closer, curling your legs onto the chair and resting your cheek against Quinn's bicep, eyes alight with adoration, gazing at the baby. “She’s perfect, right?”

Quinn’s gaze shifts from the small human in his arms to you and he wonders if you’re thinking the same as him.

As if reading his mind, Kate innocently asks, “So, when’s it going to be your turn?” Eyes dancing between you both.

Quinn bites back a growing smile. He’s sure it’s a dead give away for all he’s feeling and wishing for right now. “Someday,” he replies, exchanging a meaningful glance with you.

Kate raises an eyebrow playfully. “You two talk about it often?”

You nuzzle your face closer against Quinn, trying to hide your grin, fidgeting with the blanket wrapped around the baby so, with any luck, she won’t be able to see just how desperately you want this life with Quinn. “We do. I mean, we still have a few more things we’d like to do first but… It’s definitely on the table.”

“Yeah, we’re in no rush.” Quinn nods in agreement, though the gleam in his eye suggests he wouldn’t mind if the day came sooner rather than later.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

“I don’t want to jinx anything but this house is ticking all the right boxes so far,” you grin.

It’s a nice change, too. House hunting had been exciting at first but once the novelty wore off and the reality of the gruelling journey it’s going to take to find the home of your dreams sunk in, things started to move more slowly and with each viewing, you weren’t sure if your forever home truly existed. Physically, they had all been great in their own right but when you crossed the threshold, heart beating steady and unable to imagine your lives in the space, you would spare Quinn a look and he would agree. “It just doesn’t feel right,” he’d explain to the agent at the end of the tour.

But this house… It had been a surprise, last minute decision to view it. The agent adamant that this could be the one. “It has good bones,” he told you both over the phone. “Lots of character and it has everything you guys are looking for. It hasn’t hit the market yet so if you’re interested, now is the right time.” And that was it.

"This kitchen is perfect," you say, twirling around, eyes alight with possibilities. A wide timber island would go here, a large window that opens onto the deck over there.

Quinn nods, envisioning lazy Sunday mornings spent soaking up the morning sun while you whip up pancakes. "And the backyard is great. Plenty of space for a pool,” he says, sticking his head out of the stain glassed back door to sneak a peak at what the outdoors offers. Plenty of space for a barbecue and full outdoor setting deck, too.

And then after wandering through the halls, picking out the master bedroom and wistfully rattling off all your ideas and renovation plans for the bathroom, you enter another room. It's smaller, cozy, and the afternoon sun pours through the window, bathing the room in a warm glow.

You both stop in the doorway, an unspoken understanding passing between you.

“This is our nursery,” you murmur, stepping further into the room, floorboards creaking under foot.

Quinn follows behind, smile dancing on his lips, taking in the room. Wainscoting, large window that overlooks the sprawling backyard and the ornate cornices that are unique to each room throughout the house but are subtle reminders of the old age charm it upholds.

When you turn around to meet his eyes, he catches your hand. “This whole house is ours, isn’t it?” He asks, voice soft, almost reverent, though it needn’t be questioned.

“We have to make an offer,” you agree, squeezing his hand. “Everything is perfect. It feels right.”

His eyes drift around the room, mind painting vivid pictures of what it could be. “So obviously the crib is going against that far wall.”

You giggle, “obviously. And the armchair will go by the window because this lighting is so…” You sigh, imagining lazing half awake in the armchair with a little one curled against your chest, light filtering through sheer curtains. And over there, in the middle of the room, you see Quinn beckoning a wobbly toddler to take their first steps.

But back here, where life is falling right into place, Quinn pulls you close, a hand resting on the small of the back, and presses a kiss to your temple. His mind is never too far from the very same musings.

“I can see us here,” he murmurs with an air of finality.

Decision made.

No other house will do — this is it.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

It’s summer at the lake house, and the Hughes are making the most of the wonderful weather. The warmth of the sun filters through the leaks of a towering oak tree, casting dappled shadows on the ground and the air hums with the sounds of insects and the soft lapping of the lake’s waves against the shore. You and Quinn are sprawled out against pillows side by side on a faded picnic rug, and between you, six month old baby Oliver sits with a floppy ahead askew on his head, tiny hands exploring colourful toys.

You let out a tired chuckle, smile tinged with exhaustion. “He’s still wide awake,” you say, trying to keep your tone light.

Quinn sighs, waving a rattle in front of his son. Encouraging him to reach, stretch or turn. Anything to burn some more energy and tire him out faster. “I really thought the fresh air would work. That article made it sound like a sure-thing.”

Since arriving at the lake house, your sweet baby boy had decided now was the best time for a sleep regression. Quinn thinks it’s the change of environment and whilst you hoped that to be the case and after a week of adjusting, things weren’t improving. In fact, the past few nights have been the worst of all with Oliver waking up every few hours, leaving you and Quinn to take turns soothing him back to sleep for periods far longer than usual. Admitting defeat, you had both accepted that this was going to be your life for the next little while. That dark circles under your eyes might just become a permanent feature and coffee your new best friend. But every time you look at your baby’s bright, curious eyes, you’re reminded of how you used to hope and dream for this life. Nothing could ever be bad enough for you to wish it all away.

“It could be worse, right? At least he’s happy,” you reply, rubbing your eyes.

Quinn nods, his heart swelling with love as he watches his son play. He thinks about how much his life has changed in just a few months. The nights are shorter, and the days are filled with more challenges than he ever anticipated, but they’re also filled with immeasurable joy.

He rolls over onto his back and reaches for Oliver. He pulls him into his arms with ease, resting him on his lap. “It’s just way too fun at the lake, isn’t it, Ollie boy? All the swimming and boat rides. You don’t want to miss a thing,” he says, grinning, giving the small boy a little wiggle. Oliver drops the rattle with a grin and falls forward, lying flat on his father’s chest, his tiny hands clutching at Quinn’s shoulders in a hug. “Oh,” he laughs, smile widening, arms wrapping around his tiny body.

He sweeps his palms in soothing circular motions over the baby’s back, cherishing the moment. The softness of his son’s body against his own and the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. He knows these moments are fleeting, that Ollie is only ever going to be this small once. That soon enough, he will be crawling, walking, and running, leaving these quiet, tender moments behind.

You smile, watching Ollie’s energy ebb away under Quinn’s touch. “Look at him, finally lying still,” you whisper. His little lips are squished into a pout against his daddy's chest, making him look even more adorable. You reach out to gently brush your fingers slowly over his forehead and down the bridge of his nose repeatedly, an attempt to lull him into a slumber. Ollie’s eyelids grow heavy. “Remember last summer? We were talking about how different it would be here with a baby.”

“Nah, it won’t be that different,” you recall Quinn telling you one night on the porch. “Just a bit more packing and a few more naps in the day.”

Your hands came to rest on your growing belly. “Babies change everything,” you countered as a sudden rush of nervousness washed over you. It crashed into you, making you feel unprepared for the huge change in the horizon and all that will follow.

He shrugged, wrapping an arm over your shoulder. “It doesn’t have to change. We’ll just, I don’t know, make adjustments. We’ll get a couple of baby gates and a top notch baby monitor,” he said half jokingly, sensing your change of mood. He noticed the furrow of your brows and how you chewed on the inside of your cheek, a tell tale sign that you’re worried. Gently, he leaned in and kissed your forehead, letting his lips linger for a moment longer than usual. A reminder that you weren’t in this alone. “He’ll fit into our lives, baby. It’s going to be great,” he murmured, voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

Quinn’s eyes meet yours, soft with understanding. “You were right,” he breathes a chuckle, his hands still working circles against Ollie’s back. Sleep is close, he’s sure of it. “It is different. But it’s also better, too.”

You nod, heart brimming with an all-encompassing love. The way Quinn is gently soothing Oliver, his tenderness evident in every touch, makes you fall in love with him all over again. And your sweet, spirited boy, now peacefully relaxed and drifting in and out of almost-there sleep, breathing steady and synchronised with his dad’s. You’re acutely aware of the life you have built together and the perfect tiny human you’ve brought into the world.

“So much better,” you agree, shuffling closer towards your two favourite boys. You rest your head against Quinn’s shoulder, dropping a kiss to the back of Ollie’s hand. “I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

And why would you? The life you had both always envisioned is unfolding with a quiet beauty, and it’s more perfect than you could have ever dreamed.

[scarefox]

Haven't watched anything KristSingto recently but he's right

You can think of fanservice what you want. But the moment you want to police or censor it, it turns into something really problematic. And this stance comes from 2 or even 3 different oppinioned sides but they ironically melt into the same outcome.

But at the end of the day most people forget / ignore, regardless of anything, fanservice still helps normalising public queer affection. And let's be real, most of the stuff in those stage and event shows are that... a show or even a performance! Do you protest at your local theater when they have queer characters kissing? Do you notice how this sounds in a sentence? Yes actors are real people and not characters but especially BL actors & idols still perform stage shows and kind of have a public enertainer persona. You notice how different they are on stage vs. in their personal live streams + nowadays most actors are even very honest about just doing fs for show & fun and often genuine (platonic) affection towards their acting partner but don't pretend to be actual dating (and the ones who do will most likely not lightheartedly come out with it like that... apparently there are exceptions but I have not enough insight on them to judge). You should watch some serious interviews or live stream (translations) of your favs now and then maybe to learn more about them and the industry, they are more than just pretty faces... Actors in just my bubble who talked open about the fanservice topic as far as legally possible at least: JamesSu, Perth Nakhun and I guess we can count Pavel and Nut as well.

What fans make out of it is a whole different story.... and one of the reasons people want to shut down fanservice as a whole. But imagine how lighthearted, fun and easy going this whole thing could be if we didn't had all these toxic naive fans who think every interaction is proof of actors dating (or worse: cheating) in RL. That mindset of "we are BL fans of course we are delulu" is not a joke anymore among some of them. They srsly take pride in that... babes you are part of the problem, stop encouraging it!

Then on the other side, being critical of some of the practices of the industry is one thing but it should not lead into backwards queer censoring... but that's what some are swaying to with their "real people queerbait" agenda or getting the cringes when (samesex) people interact romantically or erotically during live events (that's a bit of a you thing my dears. not necessarily in a queerphobic way but in a purity / shy way and that is a you problem to deal with not anyone elses problem)....

And a lot of people don't even understand or get what most people criticise about fanservice and just jump onto the ban-fanservice train. Without understanding the nuances nor the actual industry circumstances. Like one main argument here isn't even true. Lot of people assume actors get forced into fs. Which is not true (source: one of Perth Nakhuns Q&A vids, the 2. vid i think). BL actors usually know what they get into by entering the industry, decide with eo how much they want to do. Now that can still cause internal personal conflicts like one going over board or not playing enough but that's human miscommunication. Or companies can still be bastards but it's unfair to generalise it over the whole industry when we nowadays have companies who give their actors that freedom.

There are still some points to criticise, definitely. Like I personally dislike how MCs and sponsors sometimes treat actors during events or how fans scream at every little move or glance like crazy.... But the topic is a bit more nuanced (as always in this world) than how most people look at it. I just mean it really always sticks out when you talk with people about their reasons why they are anti fanservice that they just repeat after another with no sources or without actual up to date information or only look at it from one side.

I personally am in the middle. I only like fs when the actors have fun with it and are transparent about it. In the end it comes down to actors consent what they want to give to the audience (reason why it annoys me when people write "i feel like i am interrupting something here / am intuding their privacy" the actors consented! they want you to watch if you want to see it! consent babes! it is fine)

(when i see someone coming in with "but Krist is a homophobe" I will bite you. I am not even his fan and already researched what happened back then when I first saw those accusations when I got into BL 2021ish. It is really not that hard to look up the source and reports of people who were live pressent at the time to understand what went down back then. Ya know instead of believing rumors that twist and lie for rage bait)

[mymoodwriting]

Request for Anon (yandere professors New, Q, & Juyeon) 6.7k, yandere themes, possessive behavior, manipulation, special treatment, modeling, nude modeling, photography, blackmail, non-con, dub-con, drugs, foursome, gang bang, creampie, fingering, overstimulation, implied captivity (@starillusion13)

“You want me to be your model?”

You weren’t an art major, journalism actually, but every institution of higher education forced you to take other classes for your degree, so here you were. You thought an intro class for art would be a good elective and a break from your main courses. It wasn’t anything difficult and you thought you were doing well, that is until your professor, Choi Chanhee, pulled you aside and asked you to come see him later at his office. Your mind ran through all kinds of scenarios, wondering why the professor would want to see you in private.

To say you were nervous was an understatement, but you had to face this head on. You took a deep breath before knocking and stepping inside Professor Choi’s office. Your sense of calm immediately went out the window when you noticed two other professors in the room. You weren’t sure who they were off the top of your head, but you knew they were from the art department too. Now you definitely had no idea what was going on, but your professor was quick to notice your confusion and introduce the others. As well as tell you why he had called you here. The three of them had a job offer for you.

“Yes.” Professor Choi explained. “We believe you’d be a great model, and this would count as your class grade.”

“What does that mean?”

“If you model for us this semester I’ll give you a perfect A in your intro art class. And if you do it again next semester I believe Professor Ji Changmin could have it count as your volunteer work.”

“So you want me to model for a class grade and my volunteer hours?”

“We all think you’d be perfect for the role.” Professor Ji added. “I see great potential in you.”

“Uh, can I think about it? I’m not really sure I’m model material.”

“Of course. We do need an answer by the end of this week. If you decide to do it, please meet us in Professor Lee Juyeon’s classroom.”

“We’d need to start your training right away.” Professor Lee mentioned.”It’s nothing too rigorous, so take your time to think this over.”

“Thanks.”

You didn’t mind your art class. It wasn’t difficult, but of course you still had assignments to complete. When you first looked over the syllabus you saw mentions about going to the nearest art museum and botanical gardens for certain assignments. Those would likely be a whole day trip, and you might not have the time for that. Modeling didn’t sound like a bad idea. You’d likely just be wearing silly costumes and holding stuff while the students drew you from different angles. It would cover your class and it would only be a few hours a week at best.

You did think it over, and didn’t mention it to your friends either. In the end you figured you should give it a shot. You’d have more free time, and this new experience could have other benefits you hadn’t thought of yet. So at the end of the week you went to Professor Lee’s classroom. He was cleaning up and was very happy to see you. He welcomed you in, telling you to make yourself comfortable and he’d call over the other two. You looked around, seeing all the works of art hung around the room. They were quiet beautiful, showing different body types and you were amazed by the attention to detail.

“Are these your works?”

“Hm? Oh no, these are from past students. I have more, but these are the current ones on display in my rotation.”

“Wow. You’ve had a lot of talented individuals come through here.”

“And they will continue to do so. I’m glad you’ve decided to take us up on the job offer.”

“Honestly, it sounds like fun. It’s truly a once in a life time opportunity. I could be drawn by the next Picasso or something.”

“Indeed.”

A moment later the other two professors came in, happy to see you as well. The three gathered for a moment before putting their attention on you.

“Alright, let’s get a good look at you.” Professor Ji stated. “Up on the pedestal, please.”

You set your things down and stood on the pedestal in the center of the room. The three boys circled around you, looking you over and then reaching out to touch. They asked you to move your legs, to pose in certain ways. In the moment you felt like their doll.

“Very good.” Professor Choi complimented. “It will be easier to see what we’re truly working with once you disrobe, but that will be for another time.”

“I’m sorry, what?” You questioned. “Disrobe? You mean take my clothes off?”

“Yes.” Professor Lee continued. “I need you to be a nude model for some of my classes.”

“A nude model!?”

“I’m sorry, did we not make that clear? I know it sounds like a lot, but I promise you this position is not taken lightly. I have other nude models, but I am asking you to model for my graduate classes only, not any immature undergrads.”

“Oh… but…”

“Only three classes a week, two hours each. At least for this semester.”

“I…”

“The graduate students are very professional.” Professor Ji assured. “They’re just here to study human anatomy. They won’t be trouble.”

“… I don’t know…”

“Come by tomorrow so we can give you a proper test run. We’ll discuss the finer details, and you can see what you’re really in for. Please.”

“Uh… sure… sure…”

“Wonderful.”

You really were stunned over the news of this being a nude model gig, but you did want to at least see what the job truly entailed. So the next day you came by the art room again, even if you hesitated at the door. The three professors greeted you, happy to see you were still giving this a proper chance. Professor Lee showed you to the small room in the corner where you could undress. There was a wall mirror, a locker to put your things, as well as a clean robe for you to wear. For now you weren’t expected to be nude, but were asked to strip down to your panties and bra. You were a bit nervous but did as they asked, wrapping yourself up in the soft robe and stepping out in some slippers that had been provided.

“Excellent.” Professor Lee cheered. “Now I assure you, there are no cameras in this room. While in class the door is locked so no one can just come and go as they please. I also collect the phones from my grads and keep them in a box on my desk. The students who will be working with you are very professional and respectful.”

“Okay…”

“Let’s run a mock session then.”

The door was locked right in front of you, assuring you that no one would just walk in. Professor Lee lead you to the pedestal, helping you get on it. You removed your slippers, holding onto the robe, not wanting to take it off. They were patient with you, and the room wasn’t super cold. After a moment you took a breath and removed the robe, Professor Lee taking it from you. Instinctively you tried to cover yourself.

“You look beautiful.” Professor Ji assured. “But take your time.”

It took you a bit to ease your nerves, but eventually you lowered your hands. Once you were good the professors helped you get into a pose. Something simple, just a hand on your hip. From there the boys used tape to mark where you stood. Each of them then got a canvas and some brushes and pencils, finding a position around you to set up.

“For starters I just need you to hold that position for about thirty minutes, then we’ll take a break.” Professor Choi said. “Can you do that?”

“I think so.”

“Good.”

At first there was this awkward silence, but then the professors began talking with you. They asked about your classes, and how things were going for you. They wanted to know about you, the things you did in your free time, and why you were pursuing your career of journalism. 

“Information is dangerous but important, and wonderful. I want to be able to share that, so people can make good decisions and share stories.”

“That’s very cute.” Professor Lee chuckled. “Ah, keep still.”

“Sorry…”

“It’s okay. Standing still is difficult, but you’re doing well so far.”

“Thank you.”

After thirty minutes Professor Lee came to your side with your robe, helping you put it on and get into your slippers. You walked over to see what they had been working on, rather stunned to see how they had captured your form. It was beautiful, which was to be expected, these guys are professors in the art department of course.

“For an actual session I can’t really have the students conversing with you.” Professor Lee explained. “I can play some calm music in the room, or if you prefer you can use your own earbuds while posing.”

“I understand professor.”

“You don’t need to be so formal with us. You can just call me Juyeon.”

“Alright, although I’m still not sure I can do this completely naked…”

“You’re doing well so far. I’d ask you to at least do two sessions for one of my classes. If you don’t wish to continue after that, I’ll get another model. Is that possible?”

“Uh… I think so…”

“I’m glad to hear.”

After your little break you got back on the pedestal, the boys telling you to move a little bit here and there as you got back into position. The rest of the session went well, the boys showering you with compliments as they continued to ask about you. By the end you didn’t feel so shy, but then again you weren’t completely naked before strangers. Still, you would give this a real shot, so Juyeon gave you the time for the class he wanted you to model for. Excited to see you then.

🖤

The day for your real modeling session you were incredibly nervous, but you wanted to keep your word and not back out last minute. You arrived early to the class, and Juyeon was very happy to see you. Just like before you got into your little dressing room and stripped. You took a moment to look at yourself in the mirror, wearing only your bra and panties. You had to fully undress and you believed in yourself. After a moment you took off the last bit of clothing you had, putting on the dress robe and slippers. You had brought some earbuds, wanting to get lost in your own world and not hear anything you didn’t want to.

When the time came Juyeon knocked on the door, linking his arm with yours and leading you to the pedestal. The students were all setting up, getting out their tools, every space around you occupied by someone. Juyeon gave you an assuring look as you got on the pedestal, letting you disrobe on your own. You kept your eyes on him for the time being, letting him touch you as he got you into an ideal pose. He marked your position and then you were on your own. Besides the music you weren’t sure what else to do with yourself until you noticed something on the wall. It seemed to be some sort of puzzle, and it did well to pass the time.

At break time Juyeon approached you with the robe, helping you down. The students were also on break. Some remained in the class, others stepped out for a moment. Even though it was only the beginning you wanted to see what the students had done so far. You walked around the room with Juyeon, seeing the rough outline of your body from all kinds of angles. It was incredible, and you found it so beautiful. This was you, regardless of the angle. There weren’t any sort of identifying features either, yet every student was taking great care in drawing you and it brought a smile to your face.

All the students were back before the end of break and then you got back to your position. The students politely helped with directions this time as they knew what they were drawing. Then you were back on your little eye puzzle, which Juyeon admitted to placing for you so you don’t get so bored. When the second break came around you checked on the work, seeing the progress they had made. It was the small details they were really working towards, which was really good. Even if you had continued with your original art class, you weren’t sure you could ever get on their level.

“You’ve been doing very well.” Juyeon complimented. “I appreciate you being here.”

“Me too. I’m not so nervous anymore and this job is… interesting…I think I’ll be able to keep doing this.”

“I’m glad to hear.”

You finished up the session, a few of the students thanking you for your time. You went to get dressed, honestly feeling a bit strange putting clothes back on after just being naked for two hours. Once you had gathered all your things you stepped out, seeing Juyeon chatting with a student. You thought about leaving but he told you to stay a moment, so you did. Soon enough it was just the two of you and Juyeon began cleaning up the room, which you helped him do despite his protests.

“Ah, that reminds me.”

Juyeon went over to his desk, pulling out an envelope and handing it to you. At first you were confused, but then you realized what was inside.

“Oh, no, no, no, I can’t take this. I’m doing this for my class credits.”

“I know, this is from me personally. I pay all my models, and besides, it really is unfair to have you model for me and not pay you. Please, take it.”

“Just this once?”

“Well, we still have more sessions to come.”

“I…”

“You deserve it. I’ll be seeing you later this week, right?”

“Yes.”

“And you have the semester schedule?”

“I do.”

“Good. Until next class.”

“Until then.”

You continued with the modeling job, still trying to refuse Juyeon’s money, but at least you got him to lower the amount. It was nice to have some extra spending money for your studies though, making it easier to focus on assignments and projects. You of course did check your grades for your art class, seeing that Chanhee was marking them all as passed with an A, maybe a high B here and there, not waiting to make things weird, but also not harming your GPA. Being a nude model certainly wasn’t so nerve wrecking anymore, which made the sessions all the easier. Things were going smoothly until they got a bit complicated.

“Uh… hi…”

“Hm? Oh, hello, do I know you?”

“Well, kinda…”

After a session someone outside the classroom caught your attention. They didn’t seem familiar, but also weren’t entirely a stranger.

“You’ve modeled for a few of my classes now and I was wondering if I could get your name? Perhaps your number?”

“Sunwoo, aren’t you supposed to be in class right now?”

“Huh? Oh, hi Professor Ji. My current class was actually canceled and-”

“You should be studying for exams, nout lounging around the art department. Go on now.”

“Uh, yes, professor.”

Sunwoo glanced back at you, giving you an apologetic smile before heading off. Now it was just you and Changmin.

“You didn’t have to scold him like that.”

“I did. It’s not appropriate for any students to try and form a relationship with you. They’ve seen you without clothes on in a very vulnerable state.”

“Ah, I see.”

“It’s advice I hope you follow.”

“I think I will.”

“Now I know you just stepped out of Juyeon’s classroom, but do you mind if we go back in? There is something I’d like to discuss with the both of you.”

“Yeah, sure.”

You were curious what Changmin wanted to discuss, but you thought it was related to school. In fact it wasn’t as Changmin was talking about taking you out to dinner to celebrate you and congratulating you on your work. Of course the semester wasn’t over, but you were around the halfway point. You tried telling them this wasn’t necessary, but they insisted so there was really no denying them. The restaurant wasn’t anything super fancy, but rather nice. You dressed in business casual attire, stuff for interviews, since you didn’t have anything else. After ordering you began asking the three about their own careers and how they got into the arts and teaching.

Chanhee was big on portraits and color theory, enjoying teaching a few intro classes as he can see how other students interpret the world and the colors it has. You probably would have enjoyed his class, but you did like the spare time one less class gave you. Juyeon focused more on human anatomy and capturing moments in one’s day to day life. He had a handful of models, both nude and dressed, that he kept in contact with for his classes. He was very serious with his work and he only taught grad students. Then there was Changmin, a photographer. His classes were mainly open electives for other majors, but he loved teaching others how to use a camera to the fullest to take captivating images. They were all passionate in their area, and you admired that about them.

“You know, you could be a real model.” Chanhee mentioned. “Not a nude model, but a runway model.”

“That sounds crazy. I’m not a real model.”

“We’re serious.” Changmin added. “I have my own personal studio not far from campus. We could help you build a proper portfolio.”

“Even if you don’t want to shoot for a runway model, there are plenty of other jobs you can take on.” Juyeon added. “Commercial shoots, or magazine ads. A pretty face like yours would certainly be wanted. You should consider it.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

After dinner they took you back to your dorm, wishing you a good night. It wasn’t super late but you were still quiet as to not wake your roommate. You undressed and washed up for the night, crawling into bed. Dinner had been good, and so were the conversations. You really were intrigued by the idea of modeling on a more professional level. You wouldn’t feel guilty about the money made from real modeling jobs and it wouldn’t hurt to build up some savings before you graduate and dive into your career. It would be a good side hustle and money maker since getting a job as soon as you graduate wasn’t a common thing. It really wasn’t a bad idea.

🖤

The next time you had a free moment you went to search for Changmin, letting him know you did want to try modeling professionally. He was overjoyed to hear, setting up a good time for you to come down to his studio and take some professional shots. It was best to do this over the weekend, and you brought a bag of some of your clothes. You’d need a variety of shots taken, although the studio wasn’t what you expected. It was a full on professional studio that had its own employees and ran while Changmin was teaching. You had also never seen a studio like this before. Changmin was flattered you brought your own things, but he had options for you.

There was a room in the studio filled with clothes of all types. He went with you to pick out some outfits for your portfolio, knowing what he wanted to capture about you. Of course it wasn’t just going to be the two of you as Chanhee and Juyeon stopped by as well. Your scheduled time was later in the evening after all, and it would surely continue after business hours. Chanhee and Juyeon were more than happy to help you with make-up and accessories, making you look incredible. You weren’t one for getting dolled up, but you were certainly seeing a new side of your own beauty.

Once you were ready the photoshoot began. Changmin was happily behind the camera, treating you like a real model and encouraging you to do your own thing. He gave a few directions here and there, the other two giving suggestions as well. Overall the experience was fun, and certainly a once in a lifetime thing if this modeling didn’t go anywhere. You looked over the photos with the others, amazed at how good Changmin was at his job. He said he would pick out the good photos and do some edits to build your portfolio. He’d want you to look at it when he was done, and if you were satisfied with it he could reach out to some companies and start working on getting you some gigs. So you were quite excited to see what would come of this.

When the portfolio was done Changmin sent you a message, telling you he had left a physical copy for you in Chanhee’s hands. From there you reached out to Chanhee, agreeing to meet with him after one of his classes in order to pick up your portfolio. It was a little weird going into his classroom as students left, you hadn’t been there since the beginning of the semester. You waited for Chanhee to finish talking with a few students, so you looked around the room. You saw a few new pieces on the wall, wondering about their creator.

“I must admit, it’s nice to have you in my classroom again.”

“I could have remained as your student.”

“You’re doing better as Juyeon’s model. Now, your portfolio.” Chanhee grabbed a file from his desk, handing it to you. “If there are some you don’t want, let Changmin know. We’re all eager to see your career grow.”

“This is more of a side job than career. It never hurts to make money.”

“You do have a point.”

“Alright then, I’ll be off. I have a class to get to.”

“I’ll see you later.”

“Yup.”

On your way out of the classroom you checked the time, seeing you had half an hour before you had to be somewhere else. You opened up the file, seeing the pictures you had taken, once again reminded Changmin was a good photographer.

“You’re y/n, aren’t you?”

“Huh? Do I know you?” 

“We’re in the same class, or at least we’re supposed to be.”

“What? I don’t understand.”

“Me neither. Your name is still registered as part of Professor Choi’s intro class despite the fact you haven’t attended in the last couple weeks. You’re even getting grades, that’s odd don’t you think?”

“And what’s your problem?”

“Are you sleeping with the professor?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?”

“So I’m right.”

“You-”

“What is the commotion out here?” Chanhee stepped out of his classroom. “What are you two yelling about? There are other classes in progress.”

“I’m just concerned about one of my fellow classmates. It’s my duty to maintain the university’s reputation.”

“I don’t see why yelling at another does that. You should focus on your own studies, but if something troubles you then report it with the department administrator.”

“I will.”

The girl turned around and stormed off. You were still shocked over her words, but now you were worried about what she would tell the administrator. The modeling in exchange for a grade probably wasn’t sanctioned.

“Shouldn’t you have said something else? She’s gonna tell the administrator and get you in trouble.”

“She won’t.”

“Chanhee-”

“Don’t you know who the administrator is?”

“Uh… no, this isn’t my-”

“It’s Changmin.”

“Oh… that actually explains a lot…”

“So don’t worry about that girl, let’s just focus on your future modeling career.”

“Sure.”

After looking through the portfolio photos you messaged Changmin with a few suggestions but gave him the go ahead to send your information out there to see if anyone was interested. You honestly didn’t expect to get anything, but a few days later Changmin mentioned  a potential modeling job. Of course everything was still your choice, so he was just giving you the details. Honestly the money wasn’t bad, and these were all small jobs, so you did what came up. Some were easier than others, and some didn’t involve showing your face. Overall the side job was fun, and you always had one of the three boys accompanying you.

Although as exams and the end of the semester was approaching, you had to decline a few here and there. You needed the time to yourself to study, and still do your original job for Juyeon’s classes. Things were going well, and you felt that you had a pretty good balance in your life. If you kept this up you’d be in a good position come graduation. Of course you were stressed but not as much as you could be. After your last session of the week with Juyeon you hung around his classroom, helping him clean up. It had become a habit and it was a little moment where you could focus on a small task and not your own grades.

“You’ve really gotten better with modeling.”

“Thanks. I’ve gotten better with practice.”

“You have, although you haven’t been doing many modeling jobs as of late.”

“I have to focus on my studies.”

“Why? A pretty face like you doesn’t need brains.”

“… uh, what?”

“You’re better off as a model, than a little journalist. If you really focus on modeling you could be on a runway in months.”

“…”

You were rendered speechless, not sure if this was actually happening right now. Juyeon’s words couldn’t be real but either way, you needed to leave. You grabbed your things, getting his attention, so he quickly went over to you, grabbing your arm and preventing you from leaving.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“Let go.”

“I was planning dinner for all of us tonight.”

“I’m good, now let go!”

“What-”

“I said let go!”

You yanked your arm free and stormed towards the door, only to watch it open it on its own. Chanhee and Changmin walked in, smiles on their faces, until they sensed the tension in the air and saw your expression.

“What’s wrong?” Changmin asked. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” You stammered. “I was just leaving.”

“What about dinner?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Come on, dinner won’t hurt.” Juyeon said.

“…”

“Y/n, what happened?” Chanhee questioned. “You don’t-”

“I told her she’d be better off as a model.” Juyeon admitted. “I guess she didn’t like that.”

“…”

“It’s not a bad idea.” Changmin added. “You’ve been-”

“I don’t want to model, I quit.”

You tried to walk away, but Chanhee held you back this time. You didn’t wanna argue anymore, but when you tried to free yourself Chanhee’s grip only got tighter. 

“What about your grades? The semester isn’t over yet. If you insist on quitting, I’m afraid I’ll have to fail you.”

“What… you know what, I don’t care, I’ll take the F.”

Before you tried to free yourself again you heard the door lock, seeing Changmin do just that. Now you were starting to get nervous, getting the sense that something else was going on here. Still, you tried to get your arm free but Chanhee wouldn’t budge.

“You know, we could destroy your career right here, right now.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“What place would hire some fresh out of uni journalism student who has nude photos of themselves all over the internet.” Juyeon stated. “I think that’s a pretty big career killer.”

“There are no cameras in here!”

“I lied. You really think I wouldn’t want to remember some of my most beautiful models? Although my favorite images come from the dressing room.”

You felt your heart sink at his words. Maybe he was lying about everything, you couldn’t even imagine where a hidden camera would be. Although those thoughts were quickly squashed.

“Even if I didn’t have cameras in my classroom, I could get such beautiful images tonight.”

“I…”

“Be a good girl, and strip.”

You didn’t move, you didn’t speak. Your mind was racing and you were processing. Still, your lack of action was annoying them. So Chanhee pulled you towards the center of the room, the other two approaching and starting to undress you. Out of instinct you fought back only to get shoved down onto the floor, pinned as you ended up in your bra and panties. To a degree you were used to the nudity, but not like this. You covered yourself as best as you could, pulling up your knees to your chest when the boys stepped away.

“Don’t… don’t do this…”

“We were working towards it.” Changmin admitted. “We all make such a great team, don’t we?”

“I… I’ll finish the semester just…”

“We know you will, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun.”

“This… this isn’t necessary…”

“Come on, you can’t tell me you haven’t had this kind of fantasy before.” Chanhee teased. “A lot of students fantasize about their professors. We’re all adults here, it’s okay.”

“No… no, I-”

“No one’s gonna bother us.” Juyeon assured, going to his desk. “The week is over, and you know how uni students are.”

Juyeon came into view, kneeling down before you with a small circular thin in hand. You had no idea what it was, but he had a rather pleased smile on his face.

“This is special for you, a personal mix I’ve been working on.”

“Huh?”

Juyeon opened up the tin, holding it out to you. It wasn’t empty, a strange blue colored liquid inside. He held it out closer to you, and then you caught a whiff of it. The smell was odd and began to make you dizzy. You grabbed your head, noticing that the world was spinning. Before you collapsed Changmin caught you, standing behind you.

“There, now she’ll cooperate.”

“What exactly is in that?” Chanhee asked.

“It’s a secret.”

Changmin gently laid you down, kneeling beside you and caressing your cheek. You were starting to feel hot, and his cool touch was welcomed. You leaned into him, getting a chuckle out of him.

“She is very cute. I was looking forward to dinner, but this is a good substitute. You’re sure she’ll behave?”

“She’ll be begging for us once we get started.” Juyeon said. “Don’t worry.”

“Who’s going first?”

“I call dibs.”

Chanhee was already slipping out of his shirt, getting on top of you and placing wet kisses on your face, then trailing down your chest. You moved to get him off of you, but you had no strength to push him away. His lips provided a soothing sensation, so really, you didn’t want him to stop. After a moment he pulled you up to sit, his hands reaching to unhook your bra and help you slip out of it.

“I made a good choice, didn’t I?”

“Is that why you get to go first?” Changmin pouted. 

“Jealous much? As if you haven’t been photographing her on your own. Won’t share the pictures.”

“I deserve to have some things for myself. Juyeon doesn’t share his videos of the dressing room.”

“My cameras, my videos.”

“I’ll share.” Chanhee chuckled. “She’s too pretty not to see someone else ruin her.”

While peppering you with kisses Chanhee latched on to one of your breasts, sucking on the nipple and teasing with his teeth. You cried out in ecstacy, a new feeling taking over your senses. This wasn’t your first time, but a new experience. When Chanhee pulled back there was a loud pop, followed by fingers between your legs, rubbing you through your panties. You whimpered once before you bit your lip, not wanting to be so nosy and needy.

“It’s okay baby.” Juyeon cooed, pulling you into a soft kiss. “We want to hear everything. No need to worry about anyone else.”

“… uh… my head…”

“Sh, it’s okay, we got you.”

“She’s so wet.” Chanhee giggled. “I can’t wait much longer.”

You barely registered Chanhee’s words before he pushed your panties aside and pressed his fingers against your folds. You squirmed, trying to move away, but Juyeon kept you from running. You felt Chanhee’s fingers pushing deeper, and one slipping inside you. Your mouth hung open in sweet pleasure, Changmin taking it as an invitation to put two of his own fingers in there, moving around your tongue and getting you to suck on them. You did so without really thinking, your focus pulled in two directions. Then you felt hands trailing down your chest, grabbing your breasts and massaging them. 

While you were distracted with that a second finger entered you, making you squirm once more as Chanhee found your sweet spot. He was more than happy to abuse it, making you moan against Changmin’s fingers, partially gagging. You didn’t really notice when a third finger was added but you could feel the stretch. Juyeon placed kisses against your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. The world around you was spinning, but you were more focused on the pleasurable feelings you were being assaulted with. Instinctively you let out a whimper when Chanhee moved his fingers, feeling cold for a moment before you felt something bigger rubbing against your slit.

Your mind only registered what that was once it was pushing your walls apart, entering you inch by inch. You felt a bit tense, but slowly relaxed, the pain mixing to pleasure. The fingers in your mouth pulled away with a pop, letting your moans spill past your lips. Those wet fingers trailed down your body, making you twitch, which just created a new sensation from the cock inside you. A whimper escaped you as you adjusted for the size. For a moment you noticed Chanhee’s face right in front of you, a big smile on his face. Then he started moving and things got blurry. Chanhee moved with a steady rhythm at first, making your whole body shake.

You shut your eyes, hands exploring his chest, trying to get some stability, but you were getting lost. Each of his thrusts rubbed against your sweet spot, keeping you off balance and on cloud nine. Chanhee shoved the others away from you, meaning down to kiss your neck and chest, wanting to leave marks. You felt a heat building down below, only growing stronger and stronger. You tried to say something to Chanhee, but he understood well. As he pushed you over the edge he pressed his lips to yours, letting you moan into his mouth. Your body shook beneath him, squeezing him tight and encouraging him to spill his seed.

You were barely coming down from your high when you heard, and felt, Chanhee pushed off of you. Juyeon wanted to take advantage of your sensitive state, and it wasn’t up for debate. You didn’t feel empty for long before something else just as big and hard slipped inside, pushing against Chanhee’s mess and having it spill out of you. A ragged moan escaped your lips as you adjusted to the change and the sensation. You were still twitching and aching but Juyeon was desperate. As soon as he was settled in he began moving, rocking your body as he used you to satisfy himself. You whimpered and wrapped your arms around him, holding on and moaning into his ears. He felt so good, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust just like Chanhee had done. It wasn’t too hard for him to force another orgasm out of you.

You cried out when you felt your body shake once more, wanting to rest, but Juyeon wasn’t done yet. He used your limp body to reach his own orgasm, adding to the mess between your legs. You felt the warm sticky substance spill down your thighs, the scent of sex filling the air. You thought you could actually rest, but there was someone who had patiently been waiting and watching you with such a predatory gaze. Juyeon peppered you with soft kisses before moving away, leaving you in Changmin’s hands. He caressed your body, enjoying the extra sensitivity. As he touched your breasts, as his fingers trailed down your chest, you gasped and moaned, every little thing getting a reaction out of you.

He teased you until his fingers got down to your core, pushing into the sloppy mess and mixing it all around. Your sense of self was long gone by then, and you just wanted more. You started to whimper, gently moving your hips, and Changmin understood your actions. He chuckled, promising that he’d take good care of you. One moment you were softly begging, the next you were yanked off of the ground and found yourself sitting atop something big and hard. A surprised moan came out of you, making you throw your head back. Perhaps he was in deeper, but you just wanted friction. You moved slowly, trying to get yourself off, but you were so tired, yet so desperate. Changmin let you play with his cock for a while, watching you fondly before grabbing your hips and helping you out.

He thrusted up into you, letting the mess between your legs spill onto him. Incoherent mumbles spilled out your lips as Changmin fired up your sensitive places. Once he got into a good rhythm he laid you back down, wanting to rub his thumb against your swollen clit, absolutely planning to wring another orgasm out of you, one just for him. You cried out when you reached climax, this one making you go completely limp. You couldn’t even relax until Changmin came, spilling into you and happily thrusting his hips as he got his seed in deeper. He placed gentle kisses on your face, telling you how good of a girl you had been, but you couldn’t register much. You were spent, body and mind, and couldn’t help but slip into the unconscious. 

🖤

You groaned as you began to regain your senses, feeling sore, your body aching all over. There was a chill in the air, and you realized you were still naked, but had some cloth draped over you. When you opened your eyes you looked around the room, seeing that you were still in Juyeon’s classroom. You had no idea how much time had passed, but you did try to get up.

“Don’t move, we’re not done yet.”

You looked around for the voice, but struggled to find it. You needed a moment more to have the strength to move. You tried again only to have a hand on your chest and getting pushed back down. Chanhee was still very much naked, but he had a pleased grin on his face.

“I said stay still, love, we’re painting, and you can’t be moving. Be a good model and just close your eyes and rest.”

Chanhee placed a cloth over your eyes, and the darkness just made it all the easier to go back to sleep, but you fought it. You couldn’t move much even if you wanted to, but you didn’t want to give up. Despite what you remembered, the soreness on your body told you more was done to you. So you just laid there, not fully aware of the other three around the room, happily painting your portrait from different angles.

“… please… can I go home…”

“Hm, what are we going to do with her now?” Juyeon asked. “We can’t just let her go.”

“I’ll take her back to my place.” Chanhee volunteered. “Take care of her as she recovers.”

“As if you won’t do more than that.”

“You’re more than welcome to visit, although don’t you still need her for modeling?”

“I can figure something out, but we need to do something about her.”

“Students drop out and disappear all the time.” Changmin reminded. “I’ll take care of that.”

“Oh, I like that.” Chanhee giggled. “I really did choose a good one, didn’t I?”

“The best one, perhaps the last one.”

[b0w-ties-are-cool]

11th Doctor NSFW Alphabet

Warning(s): NSFW headcanons, smut obvi

Eleventh Doctor x AFAB!reader

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

He will clean you up, get you a glass of water and ask if you want anything to eat. Most of the time he requires at least 15 minutes of cuddles after

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

He loves his hair especially when you pull it. He loves your thighs, he's borderline obsessed with them. He doesn't care whether they are thick or small or somewhere in between, he just loves them.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Originally Time Lords only had sex to procreate so when the Doctor cums, it is A LOT. If he were to pick a place it would be to cum inside of you.

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

He would not be opposed to being tied down with his bowtie but he's too chicken to tell you that.

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

He's over 900 years old, he knows what he's doing.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes to see your face, so he would go with missionary or cowgirl. If he had to choose between the two, it would be cowgirl. He claims that it gives better access to your thighs but really he likes it when you ride him.

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

He's more serious in bed but still is a little goofy.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He doesn't like to have a lot of hair down there, so it's pretty clean shaven for the most part. He keeps his treasure trail though.

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

He is very loving, he will whisper "I love you"s in between whimpers and moans.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He rarely ever masturbates. If he does it's because he needed to get off but you weren't in the mood and he will ALWAYS respect that. CONSENT IS HOT, Y'ALL!

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise. He loves to get praised and he loves to praise you. Breeding kink. Time Lords would usually stray away from sex except for procreation but the Doctor has strayed away from those beliefs for the most part, which came with a breeding kink.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

On the couch, against the console, or in bed. As much as he would like to do it in the shower you are both too clumsy for that.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He loves it when you "boss him around". The minute that you take control he wants you so bad. You telling him what to do turns him on.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Degradation. He hates it, he would never ever say anything mean to you, especially when you're being intimate.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

As much as he loves to get head he would much rather go down on you. His head between you THIGHS? He will never say no to that! It's like Thanksgiving!

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

It just depends on the situation and timing, usually he will go for slow because he wants to draw it out as much as he can.

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

He'd rather take his time and really be with you but every once is a while he needs you right before an adventure/mission and you have to make it quick. You've even had a quickie while on a mission but that rarely happens

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

He's been alive for a long time so he's done a lot of things but he's open to do whatever you want.

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

He's a Time Lord, he can last an insanely long time. And could go for 6-8 rounds, 9 if he's REALLY horny.

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

Does the sonic count? He doesn't really use them but he has however thought about using his sonic screwdriver on you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He'll tease you all day long if he wants to, he'll place a hand a little too high up your thigh or whisper something in your ear. He also enjoys being teased himself and will blush and/or smirk if you do it back.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He may talk a lot outside of the bedroom but during sex he is relatively quiet in the talking arena. He usually lets out soft moans that will mostly likely get a lot louder as your deeds go on. He also whimpers.

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

(I know some people will disagree with me) He is a switch that subs most of the time.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Imma leave these here ;)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Being a Time Lord, he doesn't get overly horny. He is pretty moderate and could probably go for once to twice a week.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn't fall asleep unless he was already tired and went for multiple rounds, but he will cuddle with you if you fall asleep.