#regardless of that; he does look very handsome

[darabeatha]

host j.ason is a thing

[freelancearsonist]

every breath you take

➔ (no outbreak) Joel Miller x f!Reader

➔ 5.3k words

➔ Your dad is getting married to his soulmate and you have every intention of making it the perfect day. The only kink in your plan is your unexpected feelings for your soon-to-be stepdad’s best man.

➔ Rated MA // BILL X FRANK SUPREMACY. LONG LIVE BILL X FRANK. no outbreak, age gap (reader is early 20s, Joel is 45), unprotected p in v sex, creampie, fingering (reader receiving), references to masturbation (reader), pussy pronouns, pet names // reader has female anatomy (no body description but is generally able-bodied) and uses feminine pronouns, is Frank’s adopted daughter (written for all skin tones), wears makeup and a dress, has hair (unspecified length)

➔ Big big thank you to @sugarcoated-lame and @sunlightmurdock for this idea and letting me run with it (sorry it took 5 months 😂) this is psuedo-inspired by my own current activities as my best friend's moh which is why i haven't been super active in the past month or so, thank you to everyone for being so patient with me <33

June, 2013.

After months of planning—stress, sweat, and tears abounding—the big night is here. Well, almost here. The actual wedding is tomorrow, but tonight is the rehearsal dinner; and as your adoptive dad has spent the entire preparatory period impressing upon you, the rehearsal might be even more important than the wedding itself.

With that in mind, you arrive at the venue a few hours early to assist with the set up. Seeing the unassembled pieces and parts of the event brings a smile to your face and a determination to your soul–you want this to be perfect. 

Someone else shares your determination, too.

You would’ve sworn, when you first met him, that an elaborate wedding would be the very last thing Bill would want. And yet this has been as much his planning as it has been your dad’s. It brings so much joy to your heart that your dad has found someone who matches him so completely. You couldn’t be happier for them; and at the same time, you couldn’t be more frustrated for yourself. Because, as dedicated as you are to making this day perfect for them, Bill’s best man and long-time friend is maybe even more dedicated. He’s been turning this wedding into a ‘friendly’ competition between the two of you, trying to one-up you at every opportunity he gets. It’s infuriating—especially when he wears that smug grin that’s become his signature expression around you. It’s torture, too, because all you want to do is kiss that stupid smirk right off his handsome face.

It’s unintentional on his part, you’re sure, but the tension is palpable enough to slice with a butter knife nonetheless. Today is no exception—he’s dressed for labor in worn jeans that are just a little too tight around his thighs and a faded Iron Maiden shirt that hugs his strong biceps. His hair is ruffled like he’s been tugging and running his hands through it, and it puts all kinds of indecent thoughts into your brain.

It’s wrong. The guy’s old enough to be your dad, and that’s aside from the fact that he’s your soon-to-be-stepdad’s best man. No self-respecting young woman should be looking at a guy who’s old enough to remember the Nixon administration the way you are right now. And yet…

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he says in that drawl of his which makes you want to throw your sanity out the window and fall at his feet to worship the very ground he walks on.

You’ve never hated Joel Miller more than you do right now. 

Regardless, you greet him with the sweetest smile you can muster. “Good morning. I didn’t know you’d be here this early.”

“Well, rehearsal’s as important as the weddin’ itself,” he dutifully repeats the line that you’ve heard from your dad a million times over. “And this barn ain’t gonna decorate itself.”

“Well, that’s kinda my job,” you remind him, hoping your tone sounds more annoyed to him than it does to you. 

He flashes that boyish smile that no middle-aged man should be able to master, and it makes your heart skip a beat. “Can’t let you have all the fun, can I?”

You want to grumble about it. You want to be annoyed by this goofy-ass forty-five year old man and his stupid competitive streak. Instead, your mouth betrays you by smiling. “I appreciate the help.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.” He punctuates it with a wink, and you consider just falling onto the ground and perishing. Instead, you roll up your shirt sleeves and get to work.

The fruits of your labor are well worth the effort they take. You feel a heady sense of pride when you look around at all the decor–as long as this barn has been a wedding venue, you’re certain no one’s ever made it look this good before.

The tables are arranged neatly in rows, draped with luxurious white tablecloths and topped with neat arrangements of greenery in the centers. The seating chart that Bill and Frank worked so meticulously on is put into effect with hand-written placards designating each chair to an occupant. Strings of white globe lights hang from the rafters and cast a hazy, reverent glow over the entire barn. Everything is the perfect mix of modern and rustic.

Outside on the lawn, rows of neatly arranged chairs line a petal-scattered aisle. Everything leads to the focal point–an eight-foot high arch wrapped generously in green vines and white blossoms. It’s definitely the highlight of the entire thing, which irks you just the slightest bit–it was solely Joel’s vision. Apparently, he’s a lot more artistic than you’ve ever given him credit for. It tracks, you suppose; construction is an artform if you really think about it. He uses his hands to create just like a sculptor, but to a larger scale. And those hands are capable; you’ve seen exactly how much they can move or carry and you wonder if they could–

You shake off that train of thought before it can go any further. If you can’t get yourself under control you’re going to start wearing a rubberband on your wrist that you can snap every time your thoughts about Joel stray into the ‘things you shouldn’t be thinking about a middle-aged man’ category.

He certainly has aged like fine wine for a forty-five-year-old man, though…

Snap.

With a sigh, you give your head a shake in hopes of clearing your mind and take a look down at your watch. You’ve finished with perfect timing–you’ve got about two hours to go home and get cleaned up before you have to be back for the rehearsal dinner.

You look for Joel for a few moments before leaving, but he’s nowhere to be found. It puzzles you a little bit that he wouldn’t at least say goodbye before leaving, but then again he really doesn’t have to answer to you. It’s a well-needed wake up call, a reminder that your feelings–can whatever you’re going through really be called that?–your attraction, is one-sided. He’s here for Bill and Frank, not for you. You’re his best friend’s daughter and nothing more, and the realization washes over you like a bucket of ice water.

You hate the way it sends you spiraling on the drive home. You hate the way you care so much about what he might think of you. You hate the way that you have to look at yourself in the mirror and give yourself a stern talking-to about needing to let this whole stupid crush go. You hate the way that you can’t even pretend the extra layer of mascara you apply isn’t for him.

You avoid Joel the entire night, which isn’t easy to do. You have to walk down the aisle next to him during the ceremony rehearsal but you avoid his eye contact, taking a twisted little satisfaction in the way he frowns when all of your replies to his chit chat are short and clipped. Dinner is easier–both Frank and Bill sit between you and Joel, so there’s no attempted conversation to deflect from him. But you could almost swear you feel his eyes on you, as if he’s looking right through your dad and soon-to-be-stepdad.

Joel is puzzled, to put it simply. One second, he’s got you in the palm of his hand. Then a moment later, you’re looking at him like you might look at a bug you stepped on and got stuck to your shoe.

He puts it out of mind as much as he can. He’s not supposed to be looking at you like that, after all. He’s not supposed to be admiring the perfectly kissable curve of your shoulder or the biteable expanse of your neck. He’s definitely not supposed to be wondering what you’re wearing under that adorable dress of yours. You’re his best friend’s daughter, for god’s sake. You’re so far off limits that he shouldn’t even be looking in your general direction.

But he is. He’s looking, and he can’t stop looking. And most of all, he can’t stop wondering if you feel it too.

Evidently you don’t, because you won’t even take his arm as you practice walking up the aisle in preparation for the big day tomorrow. You’ve probably figured out how much he’s been thinking about you and the kinds of things he’s been thinking, and you’re disgusted. He’s just a dirty old man to you, surely.

Little does Joel know that you come on your fingers moaning his name practically as soon as you’re through the door of your hotel room that night. You fall asleep before you can feel too ashamed about it–blissfully unaware that Joel’s doing the same exact thing just a few doors down.

You wake up in the morning with much more clarity than you usually have, especially at 9AM.

No matter what, today is about Bill and Frank. You get to be part of a true love story, the kind that your dad used to read about to you in bedtime stories when you were a little girl. That knowledge steadies your mind more than anything else ever could.

You jump into the shower and try your best to tame your unruly hair before shuffling down to the dining area on the ground floor of the hotel. 

Bill and Frank really spared no expense on this place. All the food is fresh and hot, replenished every few minutes. It smells incredible–there’s overlapping waves of pastries, sausages, eggs, and fruits. It’s almost overwhelming; there’s way too many options.

After you pile up a plate with as much as your stomach can comfortably handle, you make your way over to the table your father occupies by himself.

“I was wondering when you were going to show up,” he says through a mouthful of cantaloupe.

“Decided to sleep in a little,” you explain. “Where’s Bill?”

“He already had breakfast, he’s getting ready,” Frank explains. “Joel made out a whole schedule for us, put us on different shifts so we don’t see each other before the wedding. It’s bad luck, after all.”

You snort through a bite of biscuits and gravy, because that’s such a characteristically Joel thing to do. From what you know of him, he thrives with routine and function–you’re surprised he doesn’t have you working off of a schedule, too.

A small, annoying part of your brain thinks it’s really adorable that Joel plays into that whole superstition. Another, more sensible part tells you that nothing Joel does is adorable and you’ve really got to stop thinking about him so much.

“How’re you feeling?” You ask, looking up at your dad through a bite of blueberry muffin.

“Relieved, honestly,” he admits with a chuckle and a twinkle in his eye. “I finally get to marry my best friend today, with my other best friend by my side.”

You hide the way the comment makes you choke up behind another bite of your breakfast.

There have been a lot of times where you’ve gone unwanted in your life; starting right at birth, continuing with unrequited crushes and lost friendships. But one person has always wanted you and been there for you through thick and thin. Frank picks you up every time no matter how hard you fall, and you feel so unbelievably lucky to be in his life. 

If anyone deserves a fairytale ending, it’s Frank. He always puts the people he cares about first, and now it’s his turn to shine. You’re not letting anything get in the way of that–especially not stupid, unrequited feelings for the best man.

With a little more resolve in your mind, it’s easier to get ready for the main event.

Every step of your preparation has been immaculately planned over the course of months. From your dress to your make-up, to your hair, not one detail has been overlooked. It takes you more than an hour to get ready–but when you’re ready, you’re a vision. Even though you’re not normally the type to enjoy looking into the mirror, you have to admit to yourself that you look stunning. 

Your traitorous brain wonders if Joel will think the same. 

With a heavy sigh, you grab your bag and your car keys. You really wish you had a way to shut those intruding little wishful thoughts off–they’re doing more harm than good at this point. 

You take a deep breath, shove as much as you can down, and resolve to have a good time celebrating your dads–then you open the door and set out towards an unforgettable night.

Whatever kind of shock and awe you were hoping to inspire in Joel, it’s surely nothing compared to the rush you feel as you find him in the bridal party lounge.

You’ve never seen him quite so put together. He’s normally a bit undone–a symptom of being a long-time bachelor–but today, he’s perfectly styled. The hair he’s been growing out is slicked back into gorgeous curls, his black tuxedo pants hug his hips like a dream. He’s in the process of fastening the last two buttons on his impeccable white dress shirt and every bone in your body screams to stop him–to keep that peek of his tanned chest on display for your hungry eyes.

You have a fearful moment of thinking you actually made the request aloud, because he does stop in his tracks when his eyes land on you. His lips part in shock and his pupils dilate and he freezes. Fingers that were once absentmindedly completing their task drop to his sides as he murmurs something that sounds suspiciously like “wow.”

“Need help?” You offer before you can think better of it.

There’s a long moment of tense silence, and then he nods silently.

Your mouth is dry as you approach him, trying desperately to keep your cool. Your clammy palms are definitely not the most qualified to complete this task for him, but you can’t back down now. With a deep breath–you’re so close now that it fills your nose with the spicy, intoxicating scent of his cologne–you will your hands to stay steady and reach for his shirt buttons.

His lead tongue finally remembers how to work as you fasten the first button. “You look… incredible.”

“So do you,” you whisper. Just when you think you’re out of the woods, ready to step back and breathe properly again, his hand comes up to offer you a bow tie.

“This too?” His warm brown eyes search yours–how could he ever expect you to say no?

“Y-yeah. Sure.” You turn the collar of his shirt up, then carefully fasten the tie around his neck. The band is perfectly configured to his neck, the bow already tied–all you have to do is secure a hook through a loop. He could’ve easily done this himself; and yet he didn’t. He wanted you to do this, and that particular bit of knowledge sends a rush of heat burning through your veins. 

Maybe this whole song and dance isn’t quite as unrequited as you originally thought.

Your fingers brush his warm skin as you smooth his shirt collar back down over the band of the tie and it’s like an electric shock that shoots through every inch of your body. You’ve stuck a fork in an outlet and you want to do it again.

You’re done with your task, yet you can’t bring yourself to step away. He doesn’t either–for seconds that feel like hours, you look into those dark eyes and feel his breath against your face and you finally have the courage to do something about it. You’re going to kiss him, just lean in a little further and–

The sound of the lounge door opening makes your body jolt with the force of an actual fork in an outlet.

“There you are!” Frank’s got an untamable smile on his face–his hair is impeccably gelled back, his white tuxedo tailored to fit like a glove. The sight of him, so close to everything he’s ever wanted, brings tears to your eyes. “Wow, you two look amazing.”

“Hey. Thanks.” You’re fighting with all your strength to keep your voice even and calm despite the compliment. The reality of your father’s happily ever after comes crashing in and you’ve never felt so proud. “First look time?”

“Yeah,” he confirms with a nod. “Is Bill–?”

“Dressin’,” Joel answers after clearing his throat. “I’ll bring ’im out when he’s done.”

“Perfect, thank you.” Frank takes your hand to lead you outside, but not before you look over your shoulder at Joel. He looks thoroughly disheveled despite his sharp appearance–you’ve gotten under his skin. Good.

Thank god for waterproof make-up because you nearly lose your whole face during the first look. Not that you’re wearing much, but it’s enough that it’s jeopardized by the tears your treacherous eyes shed despite trying in vain to will them away.

You’ve never been so happy for two people before. You’ve never seen two people more in love. In their matching white tuxes, with their matching watery eyes, as they turn to greet each other for the first time today, you know that Bill and Frank are a forever thing. It brings you a sense of peace that you never knew was possible.

At some point, you become conscious of the fact that you’re holding Joel’s hand. You know you probably shouldn’t, that you could get both of you in serious trouble–but he’s not pulling away, so neither do you.

The true test of your mascara comes during the ceremony–it passes the test with flying colors, which is truly impressive considering the tsunami it has to hold up against. You’ve never really been a wedding cryer, although you suppose no one would blame you for this one. You’re hardly the only person walking away with tissues to their eyes. Bill and Frank have loved so hard and fought for so long in order to obtain this day–it’s nothing short of incredible to see them finally seal their union with vows.

Before the reception, you pop into the bridal lounge to make sure you’re still presentable. A couple tissues later and you’re good to go, but the sound of the door opening and the lock clicking into place stops you in your tracks.

Joel’s standing there, looking like a dream. Curls slightly disheveled from the wind, top two buttons of his shirt undone with his bowtie hanging out of his jacket pocket. His eyes are slightly red-rimmed, albeit not as bad as yours.

His breath seems to catch when he sees you–he clears his throat before whispering, “Hey.”

For a long moment, your tongue is too heavy to speak. Every ounce of desire from earlier comes rushing back in a flash flood of emotion. It’s just you and him and tension so palpable you could grab ahold of it.

“H-hey,” you breathe. Earlier, you were ready to do something drastic. Now, all the familiar doubts come crashing back in. Are all these feelings one-sided? Were you just seeing what you wanted to see? The feeling of his hand in yours is burned into your palm. Does he feel it too?

“I think it went pretty well,” he hums. His hands are tucked into his pockets, thumbs twitching unconsciously as if he’s nervous.

“It was perfect,” you agree.

For a moment that seems to last a lifetime, you both stand toeing the line. It’s right there, unseen but waiting to be crossed. You don’t know if either of you have the courage it takes to step over it.

And then he moves; he breaks the tenuous balance of platonic and something more by closing the distance between you.

“You really do look amazin’,” he breathes, hands clenching indecisively at his sides. “I mean, you always do, but–”

You grab him before he can finish his sentence. ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’ is blaring on the outdoor speakers as your lips finally meet his. It’s been weeks, maybe even months, of dreaming about this moment. It’s better than you ever could’ve imagined.

The world fades away as his breath becomes yours. There’s nothing but the feeling of his tongue sweeping across your bottom lip and his hands gripping your waist and his curls tickling your forehead. Nothing but the sound of his deep groan and the desperate thrum of his heartbeat underneath your palm as it slides up his chest. Nothing but finally feeling complete.

“W-we shouldn’t…” he murmurs, but he doesn’t dare pull away. His steps sound like cannonfire as he backs you up against the wall, a march towards something deliciously irreversible as his tight grip on your waist bunches the fabric of your dress up. Nothing has ever felt as right as his entire body surrounding and swallowing you this way.

“I want to,” you breathe against his lips. “Do you?”

“God, yes.”

Your arms come up to wrap around his neck and tug him closer, desperately wanting every inch of his body pressed up against you. Just as he’s starting to pull the skirt of your dress up, the song outside changes to ‘Don’t Stand So Close to Me’, strangely apt but also a reminder that you don’t have time. You made this playlist yourself–you know that there’s only three more songs after this one before you’re supposed to be ready for the bridal party entrance to the reception.

“Joel…” you moan out. “Joel, we have to be quick.”

“How quick?” He questions between searing kisses down the length of your neck.

“Ten minutes at the very most.”

“Shit,” he grumbles. He doesn’t pull away though–if anything, he pushes you back harder against the wall. “You still wanna do this?”

As much as you want to say yes, as much as you want to say fuck the reception, you can’t do that to Frank and Bill. “You think ten minutes is enough time?”

“If I can’t make you come in ten minutes I’ll eat my own fist.”

It makes you shiver in conjunction with the way his hand slides feather-light up your thigh.

Even the ghosting touch of his calloused fingertips on your sensitive skin has you aching for more. “Jesus Christ, you’re gonna drive me crazy.”

The cocky bastard has the audacity to actually wink at you. “That’s the plan, sweetheart.”

You drag his lips back to yours with a renewed sense of desperation, relishing the gentle scratch of his trimmed beard against your chin and under your palms. “It’s definitely working.”

“Good.”

You know this is territory that you probably shouldn’t be crossing into, not when he’s twenty years older than you and he’s your new step-dad's best friend, but you can’t be brought to care when those deliciously rough fingertips are slipping under the hem of your panties.

“Shit, sweetheart,” he grumbles against your lips. “She’s soakin’ for me.”

“A-always is,” you gasp out. 

His fingers sweep through your folds, gathering as much slick as he can to swirl around your sensitive clit. He smirks at the way your hands tighten on him even at the lightest of touches.

“That how you like it, sweetheart? Nice and gentle?” He presses a little firmer and a grin spreads over his face at the gasp you let out. “Oh, that’s it.”

“Joel, please…” Your hands move to his arms, squeezing tighter than you probably should but you can’t help it when he’s touching you like this. It’s exactly what you need and he knows it–he watches your face for every little indication that he’s doing a good job.

“Please what?” He purrs quietly. “What do you need?”

You could go on like this for hours, you’re sure–and you’re sure he’d be more than willing. You could stay here in his arms forever and let him work you over until there’s nothing left in your head but his name.

The song outside changes again, and you know forever will have to wait.

“Fuck me,” you plead. “Need you.”

“It’s gonna be tight, sweetheart.” You’d think he was being overly confident if you couldn’t feel the size of the bulge pressing against your thigh.

“That’s okay. Please.”

“Alright, sweetheart.” In a flash he’s got his belt undone and your greedy hands are more than happy to assist in shoving those perfectly pressed pants down his sturdy thighs.

You can’t help the gasp that bubbles out with the sight of him. He’s big. There’s no debate. The flushed tip of him is peeking through mouth-watering foreskin, red and flushed as if angry it’s not inside you already. You’re devastated you don’t have time to take that thick length into your mouth, to make him shudder and shake until he’s begging to fill you.

Later, you remind yourself.

“Still sure about this?” He asks, tone no longer brimming with the urgency and arrogance from just a few moments prior. He searches your eyes intimately for any hint of hesitation–the last thing he wants to do is to push you.

You’ve never wanted anyone more.

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please, Joel.”

“Easy, honey. I’ve gotcha.” The hand between your thighs moves to coat him in your slick–for a moment, you’re mesmerized at the sight of his big hand working over his cock. “Gotta tell me if anythin’ doesn’t feel good, ‘kay?”

“I will, I swear, just please–”

The rest of your sentence gets lost in a breathless moan with the first gentle thrust of his hips. Even just the tip is a stretch–one that has your nails digging into his shirt-clad back and your thighs tightening around his waist.

“Shit, sweetie,” he purrs, voice liquid gold. “Gotta relax, gotta lemme in–”

You manage to loosen your thighs a little and it gives him the space he needs to press all the way in to the hilt–the feeling of him filling you completely is nothing but breathtaking. A broken groan tumbles from his lips–you can feel the way his breath hitches from how his forehead is pressed against yours. It’s nothing short of heady, to know that you have such a profound effect on a man you thought might be immune to you.

“Good?” He questions in a whisper. One of his hands is hooked under your left knee to keep your leg up around his waist; the other strokes absentminded patterns over your right hip, as if unconsciously soothing you.

You give him a shaky nod in response. “Good.”

The pace he sets is the most delicious kind of torture. You both know you’re in a time crunch, so Joel is more than happy to employ the most toe-curlingly relentless speed. Every slick thrust of his cock makes your eyes flutter–little breathy moans escape your lips with fervor as he pounds deep. He's hitting every single spot all at once and then some. All the while his lips trace around your neck and jaw, careful not to leave marks but whining quietly as if he’s tempted. As if he wants nothing more than to claim you in a way that everyone can see.

You moan out his name and the hand on your waist comes to help, settling between your bodies and finding that perfect rhythm from before. You’re finding out that he’s a very intuitive and quick learner–you would certainly praise him for it if you could find the breath to do so. 

The way his hips work–driving him deeper than anyone’s ever been; the way his fingers swirl–bringing you to the brink in mere minutes with the most thigh-shaking friction; the way his mouth works, sucking just light enough on the sweet spot behind your ear so as not to leave a mark… it all builds and builds and builds, leaving you breathless and trembling and teetering on the edge of pure oblivion.

“Y’feel like fuckin’ heaven,” he gasps out against your cheek. “Never gonna get enough.”

The words alone send white-hot pleasure shooting down your spine–you’ve wanted him so badly for so long, and now you know he’s wanted you too. It feels even better with that satisfaction, with the fact of winning the prize you’ve been coveting so deeply.

“Joel…” You want to tell him the million thoughts that are rushing through your head, but your lungs aren’t cooperating. 

“I know baby,” he murmurs with a particularly devastating thrust. “I know. S’okay.”

It’s too much and simultaneously not enough. You dig your nails into his shirt to tug him closer, a silent plea to get him working against that spot again. He complies without words, hitching your leg a little higher around his waist and angling his hips in a way that makes you cry out his name again.

“I’m gonna–”

“Yeah, go ‘head,” he purrs breathlessly. “Lemme feel it, come all over my cock.”

His fingers press a little firmer against your clit and that’s all you need for the knot in your stomach to unravel with blinding force. It travels through every nerve like some delicious form of spontaneous combustion, making your body shiver with the energy of it. It’s the best you’ve ever felt–you don’t think you’ll ever get enough of it, either.

“That’s it honey, holy shit…” He murmurs before finally meeting your lips again for a breathless and panting kiss. “W-where?”

For a moment, you have no clue what he could possibly be talking about. His thrusts are losing rhythm with each moment, as if he’s about to–

“Inside,” you whine out after your moment of clarity. “Please–”

“Shit,” he spits even as he drives himself impossibly deeper. “Y’sure?”

You’re not even conscious of nodding your head–all you know is that you need him completely. “It’s safe. Promise.”

“Atta girl,” he whispers. “Gonna leave you fuckin’ drippin’, won’t be able to stop feelin’ it all night–”

His head tips back as the first wave crashes over him, eyes squeezed shut and mouth dropped open as his hips grind into yours. There’s nothing short of pure ecstasy on his face with the first few ropes of cum that fill you. You’ve never seen anything quite as beautiful as the pleasure washing over this gorgeous man’s gorgeous face. Knowing that you’re the cause of all this nearly sends you over the edge all over again.

He grunts as he shoves himself a little deeper, eager to feel every inch of you as he unwinds. “Christ, honey… squeezin’ me so goddamn tight.”

“Not my fault you’re huge.”

He chuckles at that, staying seated deep within your walls for a moment longer so he can kiss you again. It’s lost its edge of desperation, but it makes up for it with an overwhelming note of sweetness. His hand cups your jaw to guide the angle and once again you’re struck by that overwhelming sense of rightness. It’s like you were meant to be here, meant to take everything he gives you and more, meant to love him.

The song outside changes to ‘Every Breath You Take’, the song before the entrance song, and you spring to action.

“Shit, Joel, we’ve got to go.”

He pulls out with an overdramatic groan, as if it hurts him to be separated now that he knows what it feels like to be joined. You can feel the drip start even before his hand comes to fix your panties, but there’s hardly enough time to worry about that.

“How’s my make-up?”

“Perfect, darlin’. Not a thing outta place.”

“Thank god for waterproof,” you chuckle as you straighten your dress.

His dark eyes meet yours as your hands smooth out his rumpled shirt–there’s still so much swirling behind them, so much promise of things to come.

“We’ve gotta go,” you repeat when he halts by the door.

“Just a sec,” he murmurs. And then he pulls you in for one final, saccharine sweet kiss. “Come to my room w’me tonight.”

“Okay,” you promise–you’re surprised you can keep your voice even when just the question makes your heart skip a beat.

“Thank you.” It’s genuine, earnest. It makes your heart skip another beat.

He takes your hand before unlocking and opening the door, and he doesn’t let it go until he absolutely has to.

➔ beta: @schnarfer and @futuraa-free thank you my darlings <3 ; dividers: @saradika-graphics

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[luveline]

omg jade i heard you asking for hotch reqs and i RAN to your inbox

what about hotch taking care of r after they have a lil baby?? i think if i saw that man hold a new baby id die!!!! he could hole their whole head in the palm of his hand 😭😭😭

Every time you move, your hips and more intimate regions hurt like a hot poker. You probably won’t cry, but you require some tylenol and some sympathy to carry on. “Hotch?” you ask. 

Silence. You tip your head back over the armrest to find him. Even upside down, he looks handsome, sitting in the two seater with your little bundle of agony in his arms. Or, arm. The baby rests neatly in the curve of his forearm, his free hand dedicated to the baby’s small back. 

“Hotch?” 

“Who is she talking to?” Hotch asks your baby gently. You know what he’s doing immediately. 

“You get so hung up on the Hotch thing, if you didn’t want to be called Hotch, you shouldn’t have introduced yourself as Hotch.”  

You’ve been calling him Hotch for years, you aren’t going to suddenly kick the habit now. 

“She was my subordinate,” Hotch tells the baby. “She couldn’t have special treatment, even if she is the prettiest subordinate I ever had. It wouldn’t have been fair.” 

“I wouldn’t mind some more tylenol.” 

He raises his gaze. You twist into a painful but better suited position to watch him move the baby closer to his collar, his hand covering the entirety of the baby’s small head. Hotch said Jack was a little baby too, but you’d been terrified regardless, and no matter the size, it was too big for you to come out of the ordeal unscathed. Tylenol isn’t so much wanted as required. 

“I’ll get it for you,” he promises. 

“Thank you, Aaron.” 

“Oh, you’re welcome, honey.” 

He stands and shifts your tiny baby further into his chest, little snores pressed to his collar. “You okay to take him? I’ll make you some lunch at the same time.”

“I can’t eat.” 

“Just chips and a sandwich, honey. You can manage that.”  

You open your arms, letting Hotch lower your baby down into your arms and the surrounding nest of blankets. “You need to go see where Jack is,” you say. 

“I know,” Hotch says, kissing your cheek quickly. “I’m gonna make his lunch too. I’ll be right back.” 

You cuddle your baby to your chest and lean back. Your baby Hotchner is, as previously stated, so tiny, but he’s a nice weight against you, and he sleeps like a champ. You thought easy babies were a myth until now. So far he’s done nothing but sleep and stare at you whenever you talk. You think it’s love, or the surprise of seeing the voices that talked to him nonstop while he was in your belly now out in the open. He does the same to Hotch whenever he’s awake. 

You haven’t named him yet. You asked Jack for help, but he’d recommended you name your new baby Mister Awesome, so you’re at a loss for now. It doesn’t matter, though. He’ll have a name eventually. Until then, he’s the baby. And he’s very well loved. 

You wish he hadn’t hurt so badly to bring into the world, is all. 

Somewhere deeper in the house, Jack tumbles down the stairs, to Hotch's audible horror. “Are you alright? What are you doing, buddy?” 

“I’m being quick!” 

“Please be careful!” There’s the sound of a kiss. “You sure you’re okay? Yeah? Gonna go and keep Y/N company?” 

“Yeah, dad.” 

“Okay, thank you. I’m gonna make your lunch now, any requests?” 

“Peanut butter. And chips. And pretzels. And orange slices? And–”

“How about I bring you lots of everything, bud?” 

“Yes. Please. Hug?” 

They must hug, though you can’t see or hear it, as Jack walks into the living room with wildly tousled hair and a smile. He climbs over the back of the couch even though he shouldn’t, dropping onto your feet, a tangle of arms and legs. “Hi, Y/N.” 

“Hi baby. You hungry?” 

“Dad’s gonna make me a sandwich.” 

You reach over to collect his hand in yours, squeezing his fingers gently. You’d thought for sure that having a baby in the house would upset him, if only because his usual routine was disrupted —he’d had to make room for you first, and now suddenly there’s a new baby taking all the attention? it’s not what only kids usually want— but Jack’s an easy kid too. He squeezes your hand back, shimmying up the couch to lean on your leg. It aches, every touch to your lower half a reminder of the pain further inward, but he’s not rough. He climbs further onto your leg and rests his cheek on your shoulder. 

“Is this a cuddle?” you murmur. 

“Pretty please.” 

“No please required.” You frown to yourself, trying to juggle the baby into the opposite arm so you can wrap the one closest to Jack around his shoulders. You manage it poorly. “Dad makes this look so easy.” 

“He has longer arms,” Jack says with a shrug. His nose jabs the skin just above your chest. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“I won’t. Thank you, babe.” 

Jack touches the baby’s back. “He’s sleeping?” 

“Yeah. Must be weird getting to sleep all the time and then suddenly being born. At least he’s not crying.” 

You and Jack lay with each other for a while, watching the baby snore as you whisper about what Hotch is making for lunch. You wish he’d brought you the tylenol before he started, but he’s got a lot going on. You’re glad he’s the one making lunch (though you can’t be expected to right now, considering). The idea of having to stand there and butter a sub roll sounds like a low level of torture. 

“Don’t let me fall asleep holding the baby,” you tell Jack, your eyes drifting closed as Jack snuggles closer to your face.

“I can go get dad.” 

“I’m here,” Hotch says swiftly. You drag your face to the side to see him in the doorway, two dinner trays balanced with ease in his hands despite their obvious weight and full glasses on either side. “Don’t fall asleep, I’m coming. Sorry about the wait.” 

Hotch puts your trays on the coffee table and scoops the baby from your chest, leaving behind an awfully warm patch of skin. 

“Tylenols on the tray,” he says, smiling at you lovingly. “You okay?” 

“Fine. Jack’s gonna feed me.” 

To his credit, your lovely stepson offers to really feed you, but you’re not so tired now there’s food in front of you. Your stomach groans in want. 

Hotch stands looking down at you, baby somehow even smaller looking in his arms. “Need anything else?” 

You hold half of your sandwich up to him. “Eat that.” 

“I’m fine. My hands are full.” 

“I’m not asking, Aaron. Take it.” You force the sandwich on him. “We both know you only need one hand.” 

He’s cautious not to rain crumbs down on the baby. You make no such fuss, bread and lettuce falling down into your lap as you eat. Jack can’t stop giggling, “You’re not s’posed to eat like that!”

“Sorry!” you say, “I’m just so hungry!” 

“It’s okay,” he says. “Dad will vacuum you.” 

Hotch’s mouth is full to bursting, but his nod is vehement. He swallows hard. “I’ll mop you, too.”  

[torialefay]

"Regardless of That Fucking Assignment..." 📝

professor!seungmin x fem!student!reader smut 🔞

✨ synopsis: you tried to be professional after being selected for a position under the hottest professor on your univeristy’s campus. turns out, the professor doesn’t give a fuck about “professional.”

✨ warnings: this piece, although consensual, does revolve around a morally grey area. this is strictly fictional work, and should only be considered as such. contains a lot of roleplaying that is not appropriate for everyday life. I do not condone any acts that are represented in this fic. this is strictly fictional work, and should only be considered as such. ; unprotected sex, semi-public sex, slight breath play

Dr. Kim was easily the hottest professor at your university. Young, handsome, and intelligent were the perfect recipe for quickly becoming your favorite classes to go to.

Thankful that he actually taught courses for your major, people outside of it would still sign up just to see him. Well, more like fawn over him, in hopes that he would somehow notice and fall for them, like the clichés they’d seen in movies. It was a bit annoying, considering you’d have to make sure to register early for his classes, but you didn’t mind as long as you got your spot. It made your performance in his class look better in comparison at least.

You’d always performed well in his classes, but you always felt a bit behind. You’d considered asking for his opinion on who would be best to go to for tutoring, but you didn’t want to get flustered in front of him. You surely didn’t want him to think you were struggling in his classes because it was hard to pay attention to anything but him… But ultimately, that was the truth.

Which is why you were very surprised one day to receive an email saying that you’d been selected for the fellowship you applied for… with Dr. Kim as the head.

“Hello, Dr. Kim,” you said nervously after knocking and peaking your head into his office.

He was relaxed, seated behind his large mahogany desk with a plaque on the front ordained with the inscription “Dr. Kim Seungmin.” He’d had a pen in one hand while holding his chin with the other, lost in thought.

“Ahh, y/n. Come on in and take a seat,” he smiled, lifting his head out of his hands and gingerly resting the pen onto the paper underneath it.

You shyly opened the door wider in front of you, just enough so that you could glide through and carefully close it.

Afterwards, you smoothed your skirt down around your thighs and crossed the short space of the room before seating yourself in one of the nice, leather-backed chairs that he had placed neatly in front of his desk.

“I’m glad you could meet with me on such short notice,” he said warmly, looking you in the eyes.

You couldn’t help but blush a little. Even if you’d had around a hundred lectures with him under your belt, it was nothing like the one-on-one conversation you were having now. Butterflies crept up into your stomach that you quickly tried to shoot back down. If you were going to work with this man on a fellowship project for the next year, you were going to have to learn to set those feelings aside… starting now.

“Yes, of course,” you said formally. “I’m very thankful and excited that I was chosen for this position. It really does mean a lot to me, so thank you for giving me this opportunity,” you smiled back, hiding any nerves that you may have had.

Dr. Kim chuckled a bit. “No need to thank me. You’re a great student. I’m always happy to see your work. You have a lot of great ideas, you know? I don’t say that many students challenge me to think about things in a different way, but you’re… different. Very different,” he smirked.

You automatically felt your face flush. ‘Surely this will get easier with time,’ you reassured yourself, taking a deep breath as nonchalantly as possible.

“Oh really?” you began, calming your voice. “I do get worried sometimes that maybe people could find my work a bit… unconventional?” you raised an eyebrow, trying not to falter.

“Good thing I’ve never been the conventional type,” he winked as he smiled, looking down directly after to grab the paper sitting next to him.

‘Did he? Did he just?…’ your mind began running. ‘Surely he didn’t mean it like… No, there’s no way. That’s just his personality. He’s witty. Of course he’d play around like that. He’s just cool, calm down.’ You tried your best not to let your internal freak out show on your exterior.

“So,” he started, looking back up to you, “give me your ideas. Obviously on your application, you threw out quite a few interesting ones. As long as I agree, we can work on whatever you’d like this year.”

“Hmm, well…” you began before running through your list of ideas with him. You had one proposal that you’d been fixated on, but it would require a lot of effort and attention, and you weren’t sure about the logistics of it working out. It would required a lot of time from the professor as well, so you’d almost nixed it altogether. Something about it just kept coming back though, you you figured you’d at least mention it along with the plethora of other ideas that had been rattling around.

“Woah, woah- stop right there,” Dr. Kim put his hands out, preventing you from continuing on to another point. “That’s really good,” he nodded his head. “I’ve read up on so much, paper after paper. But no one’s ever done that before.” He sucked in his cheeks as he continued to lightly nod and fixate his eyes off into the distance. “That’s smart… that’s really really smart.” He smiled, bringing his eyes back to yours now. “I knew I chose the right one. You're really impressive."

"Ohh no," you said, blushing with a smile as you waved your hand in disagreeance.

"What, you don't think so?" He teased, leaning back in his seat. "Why's that?"

"I'm just really interested in it is all. It's not that I'm special."

"Ahh," he nodded, understanding. "Well, I disagree." He folded his hands. "I noticed you the very first class. I even remember what you were wearing."

The sudden comment had you taken aback. "Really?" you asked, wide-eyed.

"Of course. You're quite memorable," he said coily.

Your heart kept speeding up in your chest. 'Calm down. Calm down.'

"Come on, Dr. Kim, you don't need to say all that," you tried to play it off. "I appreciate building my confidence up, but I will always try to work harder," you finished with a solid nod.

He stilled for a moment as if contemplating his words. "Oh really? Work harder?"

“Well… of course?” your voice carried up, confused on why that was such a notable statement. “I could always be doing better in your class.”

Dr. Kim nodded. “Mmm, I guess that’s true. Tell me, y/n, whose class is your favorite? You can be honest with me. I’m just curious to know.” He cocked a brow.

“Hmm…” your eyes darted up as you began to think. “I’m not saying this to be facetious, but I really do enjoy coming to your lectures. Dr. Pramal’s lectures have been very good recently as well.

He giggled. “Dr. Pramal? Come onnn, he basically wears a toupee. My classes have to be at least a little more fun than his.”

“I don’t know,” you smiled, “He tells a lot of dad jokes. He may give you a run for your money.” You raised your brows at his daringly.

“Ahh, okay. Dad jokes. I’ll have to remember that. That’ll get me some brownie points then huh?”

“It just might,” you shrugged. “I think the class would really enjoy it.”

A smug smirk came over his face. “I didn’t mean brownie points with the class. I meant brownie points with you.”

“Ohh,” you blushed, looking down. There was no way, you thought, that he meant the words the way that they were coming across. But it did fluster you anyways. “But I guess… haha yeah, I guess maybe that’d put you ahead of Dr. Pramal… maybe.”

Lighthearted. This was the way to go, you thought.

“Playing hard to get… I see how it is,” he grinned ear to ear.

“Hey, we’ve gotta see how good those jokes are first!” you thought quickly.

“Alright, fair enough. I’ll get some good ones prepared for next time. Just for you.”

At that moment, there was no denying it anymore. There was no way, unless he was absolutely toying with you, that he’d be making all of these advances without realizing. You were sure he knew that almost every person was crushing on him, so you weren’t sure if he was just trying to play around, but either way, you knew that if you had been standing, your knees would have already buckled and given in. There was no going back now.

“Well,” you began, “since I shared my opinion, I think it’s only fair for you to tell me which classes are your favorites to teach?” You felt bolder now. More confident.

“Hmm… I wouldn’t say that I have any one favorite. They all have their pros and cons… but right now,” he tapped his pen on the table, “maybe I prefer the ones that you’re in. It always makes my day a bit better, but the classes go by so quickly.”

“So you decided giving me this position would be a good solution?” You giggled, finally leaning into the fantasy unfolding in front you.

“Absolutely not,” he stood with a smirk, gingerly beginning to walk behind where you were seated. “Excuse the language, but you’re fucking brilliant. It’s why I was so drawn to you... Having you on was a unanimous decision by the board.” He leaned down behind you until he was hovering just next to your ear. “But this…” he breathed out. “This is just a bonus.”

He took one hand to gently brush your hair over the opposite shoulder, making sure the area beneath him was open and exposed. He slowly let his fingers trail along your back until they rested on your shoulder, only for a split second, before sneaking lightly to trace along the lines of your collar bone. You could hear deep breaths coming from his throat.

“Tell me you don’t want it, and I’ll stop…” he whispered lowly.

Your head clouded. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine any of this. You wanted this, didn’t you? Yes, you wanted this.

But how would it affect your future? What if someone found out?

His hot breath hitting your ear drowned out any hesitancy you could have had. ‘Fuck it.’

“Don’t stop,” you whispered back, feeling shy, but excitement leaking out of you nonetheless.

He slowly let his lips find their way to your shoulder, planting the lightest kiss you’d ever felt, as if he was testing out the waters. As you began to get chills, he slowly began trailing kisses across your collarbone and to your neck, taking time there so gently suck. Nothing too crazy. Nothing too harsh. He wanted no evidence left behind. No emotions involved.

And that is exactly what you believed. Before he leaned in to kiss you.

His arm reached to rotate your shoulders towards him as he brought his lips to yours. The passion he poured in was immaculate. Like he’d been hungry for weeks. He tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth, asking permission to go even deeper.

Without breaking the kiss, the walked around to the front of the chair, holding your head steady for him the entire way. Once he reached his destination, you let his tongue find its way into your mouth. He started with light circles around your own until he was quickly moaning into you. The desperate sounds leaving his mouth had you echoing, making you squirm even more.

You could feel yourself growing more and more wet with each second. Swallowing in every last moment, you basked in the bliss of it all, but you couldn’t help but to want more.

He smiled as he realized how worked up you were getting. Resting one hand on your cheek and the other around to the small of your back, he guided you up until you were standing.

He slowly waltzed you around, never breaking the contact with your mouth. As the moans grew heavier and heavier, you slowly began to push yourself up and onto his leg, needing any sort of friction possible.

He took that as his cue to extend his thigh out for you, running his hands down to hold your ass before rubbing it harshly.

You winced at the new pressure as you slowly began to push yourself up and down on his thigh, losing your breath at how good it felt.

The scene in front of him was quickly getting too much to handle. You knew from the growing hard on that you felt each time your leg hiked higher.

As he groaned loudly, he pulled his lips from yours and yanked your body into his, separating any centimeter of space that could have existed.

You let out a low whine in response as his lips went back to your neck, nibbling away as you fucked yourself onto him. His fingers burrowed into your hair as he went, encouraging you to go faster.

You reveled in the way your clit was engorged now, making sure to hit just high enough with every thrust. And as he began to pant more heavily, Dr. Kim moved his thigh up and down for you, adding to the intensity that you felt.

“Oh fuckkkk,” you let out when things were getting too much to bear.

The sweet sounds coming out of you were too much for him. Abruptly, he pulled his lips from your neck, taking hold of your head to bring it eye level with his. He stared into you like he now owned you. “You can’t tell anyone about this. Promise me,” he demanded, rutting his leg up into you, forcing you to take it as he watched..

“I promise,” you breathed out, grappling to his chest as your eyes rolled back, about to reach your high.

“Feels that good?” He chuckled, planting a harsh smack to your ass.

“Oh fuck,” you winced, loving the roughness he was giving you. Your face flew into his chest. “It feels so fucking good. Harder… please.”

“Harder?” His voice was raised now.

In any normal situation, you would have been worried that someone would hear. But in this moment, you couldn’t have given a fuck if you tried.

Another smack left you dripping through your panties. “Fu-u-u-ck,” you cried. You knew you wouldn’t last much longer. You held onto him tightly as the knot in your stomach formed. “Keep going, keep going,” you whimpered out, chasing your release.

You heard him grunt as he began thrusting harshly, as quickly as he could, into your cunt. Although you couldn’t see his face, you knew he was enjoying every last second.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” you let out lowly as your clit throbbed in just the right way. The warmth got to be too much. The thrusts were too much, and suddenly, you lost it.

Flailing out all over him, you tried your best to cling on and ride out your high. The sexual tension that had been pent up for so long had finally spilled out- hard. You began shaking and crying out into him, not caring if you were too loud now or if anyone heard.

Once it was beginning to be too much, you pulled off, shaking and pushing him back. You were sure you couldn’t take one more second without passing out.

He took the opportunity of being separated from you to make the few strides toward his door to lock it. You couldn’t believe that you’d completely disregarded that once you’d been caught up in the moment.

Catching your breath, you turned around to grip onto his desk, holding yourself up with your arms. You were able to get a few deep breaths in until the professor returned behind you, pulling your ass toward him.

“Fuck,” he smiled, gripping your hips and squeezing, letting your ass push against his clothed dick. “That was so fucking beautiful.”

All you could do was moan in response, rolling your hips around. Although your heart had had a few seconds to calm down, you could feel it speeding right back up.

As he massaged you with his hands, he continued letting his thoughts turn into words. “Now I want to know how beautiful you’d look on my dick. Getting fucked right into this desk. Will you let me?” His hands ran up and down between your hips and your ass, rubbing you lightly. Almost as if he was… cherishing you?

“Mmhmm,” was all you could get out, still trying to fully recover.

“I need to hear you say it,” he barked back. “I need to hear you say yes. Say that you want this.”

“Yes, Dr. Kim,” you breathed out as harshly as you could, your response landing you another smack on the ass as he brought his hand to the back of your head to push it onto the desk and have you perfectly bent over for him.

He wasted no time, undoing his belt and letting his trousers fall to the ground, quickly pulling his cock out from his boxers to let it spring up and hit him.

He hastily threw the bottom of your skirt over your ass to reveal your panties underneath, completely soaked in the middle from the time you’d just had.

“Goddamn,” he chuckled. “All of this for me?” He rubbed his thumb up and down your slit, causing you to wince, before ripping your panties to the side. It caused them to partially rip, not that you minded. “Even prettier than I could have imagined,” he said, licking his lips and staring down at your pussy. “Fuck.”

He took one hand from you long enough to spit in it and bring it down to stroke his hardened cock. He moaned the slightest bit, touching himself while thinking of what was to come.

Using one hand to hold you down and the other to steady as he lined himself up at your entrance, he pushed in slowly, letting himself enjoy the feeling of your pussy stretching around him. He savored every last centimeter that he could get inside of you before bottoming out. A large breath escaped his lungs as he tried to stabilize himself. It was all too much of a sight to behold.

Pushing you into the table harder, he inched his way out before thrusting back in, trying to warm you up to him.

You couldn’t deny how delicious it felt. He was bigger than you were used to, and the way he had you pressed down was taking your breath away. You tingled head to toe from the sensation. It was better than anything you could have dreamed up in class- a few thrusts of his dick inside of you, and you could already confirm.

He picked up his speed inside of you as you let out a whimper, already feeling like you’d taken much more than he could give.

He railed into you relentlessly, letting out gutteral grunts and moans with each snap of his hips into yours. The sounds of it were lewd, but it only added to how you felt.

“Ahh fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he growled lowly, trying to focus enough so that he wouldn’t cum right away. “You’re taking it so fucking well.” He moved a hand up to your hair to form a pony tail that he could pull back on. “Don’t you think so?” he yelled, pulling your hair slightly back.

Surprised, you yelped, which only turned him on more. “Yes, Dr. Kim,” you managed to get out between shallow breaths. You didn’t know how much more you could take.

“You like it when your professor fucks you, don’t you? You always wanted to be used by me, huh?” he teased, thrusting into you even faster, tighter hold on your hair.

“Yes- yes, I love it,” you strained.

Something in him must have ticked because before you could process what was happening, you had been pulled up by your hair so that your back was arched, torso now fully upright. The professor now had a hold on your hair, but all the way around your waist as well to hold you up.

You felt yourself choke on your own throat from how far back your head had been tilted. The iron grab you felt from him behind you hinted that this would be something you’d have to get used to. He chuckled as you gasped for air, beginning to pound into you harder.

He admired the way you looked for him. Perfect ass slapping against him at every thrust. Your body contorted in the most unnatural shape, just because he willed it. Your face red from the blood rushing around. So perfectly behaved for him. Letting him do whatever he wanted. So willing to give it all up. He couldn’t fucking stand it anymore.

Relentlessly he growled, fucking into you harder than he had before. He could feel the sweat seeping from his brow, but it didn’t hinder him. All that mattered in this moment was using you until he couldn’t stand anymore. Each thrust into your tight pussy brought him closer and closer.

It was the hardest you’d ever been fucked. You were past the point of return. After moaning harder than you’d ever thought possible, you were officially fucked out. He kept hitting the same perfect spot over and over until all you could do was cry out and gasp for air. No thoughts anymore, just needing that second wave of relief. You clenched around him as you tried for a deep breath, quickly working your way there.

“Ahh shit,” he hissed as he felt you- pure, unadulterated, untamable lust now clouded his eyes. Something different had come over him now. He was no longer your professor. No. Now… his one purpose in life was to fuck you senseless.

“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve wanted to do this?” he spat at you, yanking your head back even harder so he could get a clear look into those pretty eyes while he rammed into you. “How many times I’ve wanted to stop in the middle of class to just bend you over and take you?! I’ve contemplated so many times if I should hold you back after class so I could talk to you. Get you to put those pretty lips on mine, ah?” He was aggressive, almost yelling out of his mind through gritted teeth. "I’ve wanted you from the very first day I fucking saw you. Last year. An entire fucking year of acting good,” a harsh pound into you, “and acting professional,” pound, “around you," pound. "But goddamn it, I just can’t do it anymore! You drive me fucking crazy, y/n! You drive me so fucking crazy!” He yelled forcefully, quickly releasing his grip on you so that you fell forward onto the table.

Your lungs sucked in as much air as possible as you had a momentary sense of relief. But within a few seconds, Dr. Kim was reaching with his hand to rotate your head around to the side, right next to his own as he’d bent himself over your body, still fucking into you with all the strength he had.

“I’ve got to fucking have you,” his voice rumbled lowly, looking into your eyes. The words alone made your pussy quiver.

'Fuck. There's no fucking way. Does he mean?...' You were sure you were going to cum any second.

“Tell me I can have you… Fucking hell, tell me I can have you,” he growled, watching you desperately. Hungrily.

You closed your eyes as they slightly rolled back in your head. “Yes… Fuckkk, yes, you can have me,” you moaned out as his thrusts became too much for you to handle.

He violently crashed his lips into yours as if he’d been starving for them this whole time- like he'd been saving his appetite for this very moment. He ate at you like you were the most delicious thing he would ever taste.

And with the perfect thrust, you felt it. The feeling that had been creeping up for so long, exploded now, leaving you in complete shambles. Cursing, moaning, throwing yourself all around, you just couldn’t control yourself any more. You tried pulling yourself back, but his mouth kept you anchored to him, resulting in you throwing all of your groans into his mouth.

You didn’t know how it couldn’t be over, but he growled as he finished fucking into you, the wet sounds of your release only adding to his pleasure. You were getting overstimulated to the point that you were sure you were going to cry.

“Ahhh,” you wailed, not able to handle it any more.

“Oh fuck, baby, fuck!” he yelled, throwing a few final, violent, thrusts into you before pulling out. He continued to moan harshly as he pumped himself in his hand, letting his cum spurt out all over your ass, covering it almost completely. He stroked it until there wasn’t a single drop left inside of him.

'Baby?' you thought, contemplating if you'd misheard him.

Once he was sure he was finished, he breathed in and out deeply, trying to catch his breath while grabbing for a few tissues on his desk. He used them to lightly clean you up while you too were still bent over, struggling to get your breath back.

As soon as you heard his pants come up and zip, you were sure he was done. You slowly used your hands to push yourself up and off the table. Your muscles twitched as you went, absolutely exhausted. You didn’t know if you’d even be able to stand on your own, let alone make it back to the dorm.

You were slow as you turned, flattening your skirt down and trying to get your footing, but failing.

“Woah, woah, take it easy,” Dr. Kim smiled happily, knowing he was the one that had done this to you. He reached his hands out for you to hold so that you could get your balance.

“Yeah, thanks,” you said, blushing while nodding downward to acknowledge his help.

You both stood for a moment, absorbing the scenery and what had actually just happened. You almost couldn’t believe it.

As if it finally registered, you were suddenly uncertain of what to do next. You ran a hand through your hair before crossing your arms over your chest. You wanted to act like you weren’t nervous, but you knew that you were failing miserably.

“Well, I should probably head out then,” you tried to play off as light-hearted, moving your body out of his way and toward the door. You couldn’t believe you were about to have to do the walk of shame… at fucking school.

“You don’t have to-” Dr. Kim started, almost too eagerly, “you don’t have to go…” he calmed himself. “If you don’t want to. If you need time to, umm.” You’d never seen him be at a loss for words like this. “Get collected and everything.”

His eyes were softer than you’d remembered. For once, he didn’t look intimidating. He looked almost… sweet?

But none of that changed the fact that you had just fucked your professor and needed to go clear your head.

“Oh,” you smiled, trying to look grateful. “I appreciate it, but I think I’m alright. I should probably go finish up on an assignment I’ve been working on for your class actually. But really, thank you,” you said, bowing your head in gratitude, about to reach for the door handle.

“Wait,” he insisted, moving closer to you. “I just wanted to say that I really did mean all the things I said about you. Regardless of whatever this was, you are so fucking brilliant. I don’t want you to think that this is why I wanted you for the position. I hope that you’ll stay on… and that we can actually work together.” You thought you could make out a plea in his tone.

“Of course I’ll stay on, Dr. Kim. I’m excited to work with you,” you smiled, realizing now that you had some kind of upper hand.

He smiled back as he took a few steps backward, letting you turn to reach for the door once more.

“Please, call me Seungmin… Except in class of course,” he winked with a chuckle as he moseyed back behind his desk.

“Alright then, Seungmin,” you annunciated teasingly, smiling at him with big, innocent eyes. “I need to get to work on that assignment, but I’ll email you later so we can find a meeting time that works for us both?"

Seungmin just rolled his eyes with an annoyed grin. “You’re getting an A, regardless of that fucking assignment. And please... just give me your number instead.”

[lovemomhatepolice]

rafe cameron nswf alphabet (part 1) (minors DNI!)

navigation taglist requests

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Well, it depends on your relationship. If you're just a fling sex that happened at a party or friends with benefits, don't count on appropriate behavior after. Rafe can have any girl, so he doesn't pay much attention to it. However, if you're in a relationship together or in the pre-relationship phase and you've totally turned his head, oh girl. Rafe will stand on his head as long as you are happy and properly taken care of. Baths, long cuddles, and even conversation (something that wasn't popular for him before) are standard after your intercourse.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) I don't know if Rafe has a favorite body part in himself. In general, he thinks he is a handsome man - well, and he is not wrong. He likes his athletic arms and chest, because he pays a lot of attention to that when he exercises. He likes his face because he knows very well how charming he looks. And I think he appreciates his penis. It may not be the most beautiful part in the human body, but his… God. In you, he loves how small you are compared to him. Regardless of your dimensions, you will still “hide” behind him. He loves to see the difference in the size of your hands. He always laughs at how his hand could be two of yours. Well, and he loves your pussy. He has already pronounced her his property, so you can tell for yourself how much he likes that body part in you. Especially since you fit together like a puzzle (well, maybe Rafe is slightly too big, but everything will fit)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) He loves to see you in his cum. More than once he ends up on your breasts, buttocks, belly…. Wherever he could. And the very fact that you bravely swallow everything after a blowjob each time literally puts him on cloud nine. He may not be a big fan of ending up on your beautiful face, but in the mouth is something else. D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) He loves that you are his pillow princess, but there are still thoughts in his head that he would like more of your dominance. The sight of you bouncing on him has sunk so deeply into his mind that he wants it more and more… E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Rafe is experienced, let's not kid ourselves. Before his relationship with you, he had plenty of girlfriends for one night or a few times. However, the fact that he wasn't more involved with any of them definitely changes things. Thanks to you, he actually learned what he really likes and that sex doesn't have to be a purely physical activity at all. But going back - he is experienced. Damn experienced and he knows what he's doing. With his hand, with his tongue, with his cock… F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Rafe's favorite position is definitely missionary or one where he is between your legs. He likes to be in control, plus he likes that he can change the angle of his entry into you, so these positions allow him to do so perfectly. In addition, the sight of your face directly in front of him, on which are painted various signs of the pleasure he is experiencing…. Your neck, which is covered in plenty of hickeys in no time. And your lips, which are locked in a kiss. Yup G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) He's not some super playful during sex. Rafe focuses on intimacy and closeness, not silliness. He's not likely to be able to fool around. Of course, there are moments when you giggle or say something funny, but mostly your intercourse is focused on the romance of the moment. H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Rafe is all shaved up at the bottom. He hates hair that would unnecessarily get in the way. And he thinks having them is not very hygienic. As for you - he would also prefer you to be completely shaved or at least properly trimmed. I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

At first, for Rafe, sex was only something physical that could give him vent to his excitement or anger. Only with you did he discover that it could also be something else, which is why he is just learning. However, over time you began to notice that he was giving you more and more compliments during intercourse or wasn't afraid to make noises. So yes, you are on the right track. Maybe soon he will even leave rose petals on the bed or light candles?

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) He doesn't do it often because you are side by side usually, however, he has something he really likes about masturbation. He likes it when you see him do it. Sometimes of himself he just makes you watch and counts down how long you can last without touching him. And vice versa - you do the same. K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) I think Rafe has a lot of kink. But such a strongly dominant one is breeding kink. Especially with the death of Ward and Rafe's decision to move out of Tannyhill and any homes that had ties to his family. Yes, this is the time when the oldest of the Cameron siblings sees himself in the family with you and your children. He himself doesn't know what kind of father he would be and the thought scares him a little. But the mere fact of seeing you in your pregnant belly with his child, Mother, it drives him so much. L = Location (favorite places to do the do) There is no suitable place for Rafe. In fact, he could fuck you even in an open space in the park if you wanted him to. You like to experiment, so your sex takes place there and then when you feel the urge. However, let's not kid ourselves, most often it takes place on your bed or in the shower. Or in the kitchen or living room… M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) There is no particular thing that after excites you in a unique way, but if you just have an attitude, Rafe feels the need to punish you for it. He hates it when you tease him, but at the same time it excites him so much that he repeatedly lets you do it. Oh, and of course the skimpier dresses he buys for you himself.

A/N: next part is already here! i will be very pleased if you leave something behind - orders are open!

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[strangerstilinski]

𝙞𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨

𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

word count: 2.5k warnings: none really, fluffy ending, steve is kind of a dick, mention of alcohol, gender neutral reader (pls let me know if i missed anything) based on that scene in tasm where peter spins gwen around to kiss her — with just a dash of enemies to lovers

It should go without saying that Steve Harrington is the bane of your goddamned existence. If the two of you aren't at each other's throats, it typically just means that you're both doing your best to pretend the other doesn't even exist.

And, sure, maybe it drives you a little bit insane that he seems to get along just fine with every person in your friend group except for you. It was like you pushed buttons that Steve wasn't even aware he had.

Nancy finds the whole thing amusing, says that Steve's clearly so in love with you that he doesn't know how to handle it. Eddie swears that Steve looks at you with hearts in his eyes, though any time you've caught his stare those ‘hearts’ tended to look a whole lot more like daggers. Argyle and Robin both insist that love and hate tread a very thin line, and eventually, a little push will have the two of you stumbling head over heels into each other's waiting arms. Johnathan tends to stay out of it, but then, he doesn't really need to say anything, because you've seen that look he gives you when he catches you looking a little too long at the moles dotted along the length of Steve's throat, or that stubborn lock of hair that tumbles over his brow bone, or the way his tongue pokes out and his eyes narrow cutely when he's concentrating-

You hate it. You hate Steve. Even now, you swear you hate him, regardless of the way you shamelessly ogle the curve of his bicep when he reaches across the back of the sofa to drape his arm loosely behind Robin's shoulders. You've accepted it. At this point, allowing yourself to admire his stupidly handsome physique was merely reparations for being forced to put up with him on a near-daily basis. Compensation for the never-ending bad attitude that he seemed to direct solely at you.

“Does anyone hear that?” Steve's voice speaks louder than your own suddenly, effectively cutting you off even though you'd been in the middle of a sentence. His eyes meet yours for just a brief second before his gaze is moving elsewhere, “It’s like, this annoying buzzing sound?” He's sitting up a little straighter following his interruption, brows drawing together like he's listening intently for something.

His sudden line of questioning has thoroughly derailed your train of thought. The longwinded story you'd been regaling to the group about a customer at work is cut short, the words dissolving on your tongue as your try to work out what on earth Steve is referring to. Until his interruption, you hadn't heard anything.

“What are you even talking abou-”

“There!” He cuts you off once more, “There it is again! Did you hear that, Robs?” The fingers he nudges into his best friend's ribs makes her squirm away with a deep laugh.

“Are you seriously implying that I'm the-”

“God, you are hearing that, right?” Steve interrupts with an irritatingly pleased grin on his face, “Like nails on a chalkboard-”

Though Robin's laughter isn't actually directed at you, your face burns hotly anyway. A pity-filled smile graces her lips when she meets your gaze after escaping the wrath of Steve's tickling, and the boy's chuckles of amusement only serve to make you grind your teeth together in irritation.

“Real mature, dickhead.” You snap, snatching up the beer you'd set down on the coffee table when Eddie had actually asked you about your day a few minutes before. “I was in the middle of a story.”

“Yeah, no offense, honey, but I don't think any of us were that invested hearing you talk about the ‘big tip’ that some douchebag with a hand tattoo left you.” Steve grumbled with a roll of his eyes, “If your stories weren't so boring, maybe we wouldn't all be sitting here hoping for a hole in the earth to open up under us just so we don't have to keep listening to-”

“Steve, c'mon man-” Eddie tries, though his voice is drowned out by your own.

“Jesus, do you have to be such an asshole all the time?” You snap in Steve's direction.

“I'm just saying,” Steve shrugged, “Probably the only reason he left such a big tip was because pulled the wrong bill out of his wallet. It sure as hell wasn't 'cause of your shining personality.”

“What, and just 'cause you're a jackass that means no man could ever possibly find me appealing?” You bite back.

“Yeah, well, your pretty face doesn't quite make up for your constant need for attention.”

“My need for attention?” You scoff incredilously, beer slamming back down onto the tabletop in front of you as the rest of your friends seem to fade even further into the background. “You're the one who can't stand when the focus is on me for ten fucking seconds.”

“Well I don't care if some prick hit on you at work-” Steve argues, “So, I guess, if that makes me an asshole-”

“It does, as a matter of fact,” You interrupt easily, “Because I'm constantly listening to you whine about your conquest of the week, and I'm able to do so without acting like a fucking-”

“Careful,” Steve hums, cocky little smirk reemerging on his lips, “You're sounding a little jealous, there, honey.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“'S my house,” He returns just as quickly, “How 'bout you fuck off.”

The blood in your veins is full of fire. Your face is burning with rage and your eyes prickle traitorously with frustrated tears, because that customer from your story? That was the highlight of your day, because the rest of it had been a fucking disaster.

You'd slipped on freshly mopped floors and dropped an entire table's drink orders. You'd been forced to finish your shift with sticky, soda pop-soaked socks squelching wetly in your shoes with every step. Your boss had given you shit, even though it was one of your coworkers who had failed to put out the wet floor sign in the first place. You'd burned yourself on a hotplate, twice. And then, after all that, you'd had no choice but to take an ice-cold shower before heading over to Steve's house, because the hot water heater in your decrepit apartment building was apparently broken. Again.

“Y'know what? Fine.”

You're already rising to your feet, wiping the palms of your hands down your jeans to dry the lingering condensation from your beer. You blink furiously to push back the tears that had been pooling at your waterline, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of the turn in your evening.

“Wha-” Steve is watching you with something like concern in his eyes now, “Wh-Where're you goin'?”

“I'm leaving,” You announce, gaze steadfastly avoiding where Steve has removed his arm from around Robin's shoulders so he can sit at the edge of the couch, like he's planning to rise to his own feet at any moment. “I, um. I'll talk to you guys later.”

There are protests from everyone, but you don't bear them any mind. You're already turning on your heel and moving toward the entryway with hurried steps. The front door slams shut behind you before you've even gotten your jacket all the way on. You've still got one arm still struggling to find the hole of your sleeve when you hear the door swing back open behind you.

“Hey! Wait up.”

Steve's voice does make you slow where you've begun to move down the driveway, though you don't turn around. Your steps finally come to a stop when he calls out to you again.

“C'mon, honey wait, wait, wait-”

You blow out a frustrated breath as he finally catches up with you, your arms crossing over your chest like that might somehow put up a physical barrier between the two of you.

“I really don't want to do this with you, Harrington. Alright?” An air of defeat laces your words, one hand coming up to rub at the headache that’s begun to pulse between your brows, “Just.. Not tonight.”

You move to step around him and the heel of your boots click against the pavement once, twice. But then something hooks into the belt loop on your jeans and you're tugged back around. You lose your footing at the unexpected shift in momentum, knees wobbling unsteadily for just a moment before you're twirled back around to face him and then your palms are meeting a firm chest.

The adrenaline has your brain whiting out for just a moment, any and all thoughts screeching to a halt. There’s warmth seeping into your palms from beneath Steve’s tshirt. The racing of your own heart in your ears drowns out the distant sound of laughter and the opening trailers of a movie rental coming from inside. Your eyes are level with his chin, wide gaze locked on his lips as they quirk up at one corner with his gentle smirk. You’re still standing pigeon-toed between his own larger feet, a little off balance but held firmly in place by the wide hand splayed across your waist.

“I'm sorry.” Steve says quietly.

It’s only been a second or two since he dragged you back into his space, and to your surprise, his head dips, just a fraction. Steve brushes his nose against your own, a gentle stroke that sends butterflies in your stomach fluttering wildly. The cool mint clinging to his breath fans out over your face smelling of the gum he’s always chewing and smacking obnoxiously, but the scent this close is intoxicating. The hand he brings up to cradle your jaw is intoxicating. The loose flap of leather on his watch that tickles at the side of your throat. The way he’s leaning in-

The passion he kisses you with, from the moment your lips touch, is intoxicating. It's all-encompassing. You can’t think, and you’re not sure you’re even breathing, but his lips are moving in unhurried synchronization with your own. Your knees are weak. You’re gripping the material of his shirt in your fists just for something to hold onto, but Steve’s arm is curled tight around the curve in your spine now to hold you steady.

His tongue brushes against your lips, licking softly at the seam of your mouth like he's asking for permission. The desperate sound that crawls up your throat at just that quick brush of his tongue nestles in the depths of Steve's brain where he files it away for later. He hitches his arm even tighter at your waist, pulling your stomachs flush until your chest heaves against his own.

Your head is a little fuzzy when your lips separate long enough for you to take a breath, and you’re gasping comically in an effort to fill your lungs. Steve’s quiet chuckle meets your ears, his hand sliding back from your jaw to cup the back of your neck.

“You kissed me.” The words fall from your lips in a whisper of disbelief. Your eyes are still closed, lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks. You’re terrified if you open them even a crack, the entire scene will suddenly fade away around you like some kind of dream. The airy cadence of your voice is partially due to your surprise, but also thanks to the far-too-easy grace with which you've been spun and manhandled and swept entirely off your feet.

“I did,” Steve agrees just as quietly, “I did do that.”

His forehead meets your own as your eyes flutter open and he simply holds you there for a moment, nose dragging across your cheek before he presses another quick kiss to your lips. His head tilts, thumb stroking soft over the side of your throat before his mouth finds yours again, and again. These kisses are different — casual, tender, sweet and unhurried. Like he’s kissing you just because he can.

“You-” Is all you manage to get out before your words are silenced by his lips slotting between your own, but you carry on with barely a pause as you click apart once again, “Y'r still doing it.”

“Mhm.” He hums easily, the sound rumbling beneath your hands on his chest.

“Why-”

Kiss.

“Are you-”

Kiss.

“Kissing me?”

Steve’s breath mingles hotly with your own in the narrow breadth of space between your parted lips, “D’you want me to stop?”

“No. Hell no.”

And there's that perfect smile of his. Straight teeth make an appearance as his lips quirk up at the corner, a breathy spearmint scented laugh that sounds a little too relieved for the casual coolness that he's clearly trying to give off. His mouth opens like he's going to say something, but no words seem to come. Lips parted, throat bobbing as he swallows around the heavy silence weighing down his tongue.

He looks so pretty like this, you think. The light shining above your heads catches in his brown eyes, caramel sparking with flecks of gold and green that you've never noticed before, but you're sure you'll never be able to forget the sight of it now. You're still sharing breaths, faces so close that you can't avoid watching the way his full lashes blink at you dumbly. As if he isn't the one who spun you around and pulled you close and effortlessly gave you the best kiss of your entire life. As if, maybe, he didn't quite expect to make it this far, and now he's at a loss for how to proceed.

You release his shirt from your fist, the fabric crinkled and stretched with how tight you'd been gripping it, only to slide your hand up the back of his neck. The tip of his nose catches the bottom of your own, lips brushing faintly while your hand finds a new home in his hair. The soft strands tangle between your fingers when you give it a gentle tug and push up on your toes to draw yourself impossibly closer.

“If I'd known kissing you was all it took to shut you up, Harrington, I would've done it ages ago.” Your quip lacks its usual bite, but it breaks the silence between you, and it also seems to break Steve out of whatever spell he'd fallen under.

His tongue pokes out to wet his lips as he searches for an appropriate response, “Maybe we'll just have to keep kissing then.”

You find yourself swaying just a little on your feet at the way his eyes flick slow back and forth between your own, “Maybe we will.”

When his lips descend on your own again, it takes ages before he lets you back up for a decent breath of air, and even then he parts from you with obvious reluctance. You're both breathing heavy, lips a little swollen and shining wetly. Steve's expression has a warmth that you realize you've never actually seen directed at you before. Steve smiles at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and suddenly all you can think about is what Eddie has said a hundred times over.

It’s like there are hearts in his eyes.

[yjhzies]

“Not so bad.” — Hong Joshua

⸝⸝୭ ˚. fluff . romantic . meet cute

⋆ pairings : joshua x f!reader ⋆ warning : none (let me know if there is ^^) ⋆ wc : 1.5k [✉️] · despite being constantly pestered by your parents to attend a blind date, you always found them pointless, until now.

⋆ - note : I wrote this long ago but wanted to post other members before this so here it is 🥰‼️ I'm in love with this idea and I MIGHT continue this as a series ^^

Maybe it was not so bad.

If nothing else, you have your parents' word that this will be the last one.

"You got it! Everything should go planned, okay? But unless the man is actually hot..." your bestfriend, Sera, on the phone teased while you rubbed your temples and scoffed.

"Sera, I swear to g-" "Okay, I gotta go, bye! love you!" The beep signaling the end of the call quickly followed the voice.

With a sigh, you took one last look around, admiring the trees that surrounded the restaurant as the sky cleared and showed no signs of impending rain. Then, you took large, but measured, steps toward the entrance.

It was going to be simple, the same old plan. Just sit there and show no interest so that the blind date will leave you alone.

For now, all that mattered was you, regardless of whether it made you appear strange and awful in their eyes. Simply put, you were not interested in going on a blind date to meet new people.

As the staff led you to your reserved table, you sighed with relief to see that your seat was right next to a window. At the very least, there was something to keep you entertained while you waited for your blind date to arrive because you were stupid enough to forget to charge your phone before leaving, and it was now only at 6%.

And to your surprise, your date showed up rather quickly. As your gaze moved to the door, you saw a stunning man walking toward your table. He was dressed in a white collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his hair was perfectly falling over his face. And the cherry on top? His sweet smile.

He was so breathtakingly beautiful that it took everything within you not to freak out. You gulped and kept your eyes fixed on him, wide open. You were so engrossed in admiring him that you were oblivious to him speaking.

"Y/n, right?" With a mild grin still grazing his lips, the man stood before you, gazing down at you through those breathtakingly beautiful eyes. Although he already knew it was you, it does not hurt to double check. Not more than being embarrassed later, at least.

Noticing your gaze on him, he raises an eyebrow, reaching out to touch his cheek. "Is there something on my face?" He chuckled.

You blink and quickly shake your head, snapping out your thoughts. "N-no," you awkwardly smile, "Please take a seat."

And he does. "I'm Joshua Hong," he said, his smile never leaving as he reached into his jeans pocket to pull out his business card, which he then handed to you. "Please just call me Joshua, I don't prefer formal addressings." You flash a soft smile, nodding.

God, he was handsome. So handsome. And not only that, he was a CEO of a multi millionaire company. Speak of perfection.

When your eyes meet his, you can not help but feel a tiny warmth creep up your cheeks.

"I'm Y/n, I'm sure you know." Trying not to sound nervous, you say.

With a hum, Joshua moved the menu gently in your direction on the table and then turned to face you. "Should we order first?" Given that you had been waiting for a while, he inquired. You hesitate, but eventually nod because the growing sensation of hunger in your stomach was too strong to ignore.

Hours pass by, and you couldn't care less. The conversation lasted hours, and for the first time, you found yourself drawn to someone your parents had chosen for a blind date.

You glance at your watch, eyes widening as you realize four hours had already past. "It's sudden, but," you began, smiling sheepishly. "It's getting late, don't you think?"

With an eyebrow raised, Joshua took a quick look at his watch. He held back a gasp, surprised to see that it was past 10 P.M.

"Ah, I'm so sorry. I should've kept track of time..." Joshua apologized, sighing.

You suddenly widen your eyes, shake your head, and wave your hand in response to his apology, which takes you by surprise. "No, no! It's not your fault."

Joshua chuckles and flashes the familiar gentle smile. "You're so sweet."

Your heart gave a little thud at that, and you hastily raised your hand to shield your blushing cheeks.

"Let me drop you home, it's too late."

"Oh, it's okay," you reassure. "I can just call my friend to pick me up, don't worry."

Joshua nodded, getting up from his seat as you do too. "Alright, get home safely."

"You too."

As you both made your way out of the restaurant, you couldn't help but notice how flawless his side profile was. Just how perfect can someone be?

Just outside the restaurant, you two came to a stop and faced one another.

"It was," he began, smiling rather shyly. "Nice talking to you, Y/N."

Glancing away, you smiled shyly back. "You too, Joshua."

You pulled out your phone from your handbag and opened it, only to gasp as it read '1% battery remaining.'

You hurriedly looked through the call app, whispering to yourself, "Please don't turn off, please." But, to make matters worse, your phone turned off at the last minute, and you could not help but groan with frustration.

Joshua, on the other hand, stood by patiently until you called your friend because it definitely wasn't ideal to leave you alone, at this late hour. And the way you were panicking didn't go unnoticed by him.

"What's wrong?" He slightly leaned down, observing as you glanced at him nervously.

"Oh, uhm..." You chuckled sheepishly. "It's nothing,"

Joshua parted his lips to respond, but you were faster. "Why don't you leave first? I'll take a cab." He frowned, leaning back. "A cab?" he asked, confused. "Is your friend not available?"

You sigh, biting your lower lip as you gazed back at him. "My phone..." you began, embarrassed and waved your phone. "It's dead,"

Joshua tilted his head, his eyebrows raised as he held in a chuckle. "Oh, I see," he smiled.

"You can go, I'll take a cab." you assure, smiling in a sheepish manner.

He slid a hand in his pocket and took out his phone before handing it over to you. "Here, use mine."

You shoot up your gaze at him, blinking. "...can I?" you ask, just to confirm. Earning a nod from Joshua, you smile and gently take his phone before thanking him. You dial Sera, your bestfriend's number and internally thank god as she picks up the call.

"Sera, it's me, Y/N." you say, glancing back at Joshua who is looking around the area, patiently waiting for you to finish.

"Y/N? Whose phone are you-"

"I'll explain everything later, okay? Can you come pick me up fast? I'll send the address."

"Huh?-"

"Please. It's urgent."

"Ah, got it. Send me the address."

And you do, before handing the phone for Joshua to take. "Thanks."

But Joshua just looks at the phone and stays silent, looking hesitant. He clears his throat before choosing his words carefully. "Well," he began, smiling nervously. "Since we're got to know eachother, and maybe in the future we may meet again, why don't we..." he trails off, turning his gaze on you. "Exchange.. numbers?"

Maybe it was too early, but you didn't even think twice before agreeing. And as you both exchange numbers, Joshua couldn't help but feel so giddy at the thought of finally have met someone he was actually interested in, besides work.

Your bestfriend, Sera, arrived and spotted you. You turn to face Joshua for the last time, clearing your throat to get his attention.

"I hope we," you paused, searching for the right words. "I hope we can meet again, someday."

With a warm smile, he averted his gaze to meet yours. "I hope so too,"

And he definitely noticed the way your face lit up at his words, making his face soften.

"I'll get going now, have a goodnight,"

Joshua nods, pulling his hands out of his jeans pocket. "You too." he smiles.

As you made your way to Sera's car, you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment at the thought of leaving. Nearing towards the car, you turn around one last time to see Joshua still standing there with a smile on his face. You wave him bye as he returns it gratefully.

And you wouldn't have thought about it, but he was feeling the same disappointment as he watched you leave.

With a sigh, he made his way to his car and took out his car keys once you were completely out of sight.

Never in your life did you think your parents' choice would be this good. You never liked the idea of blind dates despite being a hopeless romantic, until now. And it was as if you both were written and meant to be for eachother, it was the same situation with him aswell. If his parents never forced him to go to the blind date, he would've probably never met you, and he was grateful he did go that day.

You both couldn't help but smile at the thought of eachother. "Maybe it was not so bad."

And maybe fate would bring you both together again, or even forever.

[rhys-writes-some-shit]

Learn to Take "No" for an Answer

Alastor x Reader (Queer-Platonic)

Alastor was often a busy man, but he always managed to keep tabs on you. The moment your heart rate started to increase, he could feel it. He’d stopped what he was doing immediately and went off to find you. The moment he saw you surrounded by Sinners, with Vox at the center, he was ready to initiate a massacre. 

But instead, he watched as you held your own, not once swaying from your opinions. 

Once you tackled Vox to the ground, though, Alastor knew he needed to step in. He knew you could definitely hold your own for now, but you were not powerful enough to combat Vox if he retaliated. He only wished he’d been able to watch you stab that knife through Vox’s throat…

A few minutes earlier...

Humming to yourself, you skillfully sidestepped a bloody corpse on the sidewalk. Sometimes all you needed was a nice walk to clear your head. Today, the walk improved your mood immensely. The only thing that could make it better was if Alastor started one of his broadcasts. You knew it was unlikely to happen, but that didn't stop you from glancing up at the speakers above the streets in hopes they'd turn on.

You passed by the VoxTek TV display, pausing to watch the news highlights. Another turf war on the other side of the city, an ad for some sort of imp hitman business, clips from the latest episode of Hell’s Next Top Idol. Anything owned by VoxTek wasn’t allowed in the hotel, which meant you didn’t have access to all the media you would’ve liked. Sometimes, watching the TV display was the closest thing you got. 

“Like what you see?” A tall figure suddenly appeared behind you. The small group of Sinners who’d also crowded around the TV display suddenly burst into exclamations and talking.

Turning around, you found yourself looking up at Vox's flatscreen face, causing you to grimace. 

“Oh, come now, don’t be like that. I expected better from Alastor’s little pet.” Vox was grinning slyly, arms behind his back with authority. “I have a proposition for you, sweetheart.”

“If you’re here to ask me to watch Al for you, the answer is ‘no.’” Glaring, you attempted to find a way out of the crowd circling around you and Vox, but the wall of Sinners had increased, becoming impenetrable.

Vox rolled his eyes. “Of course not, hot stuff. I’m not an idiot. Alastor doesn’t deserve you anyway.”

“Maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t,” you shrugged. “Regardless, I really should be on my way.”

Even with that statement, the crowd of Sinners didn’t move. They were all watching Vox, enamored with the scene playing out in front of you. As your heart rate increased, you could only hope that Alastor would notice. 

“We should talk some more, sweetheart. You’re such a handsome little thing.” One of Vox’s hands reached towards your face, caressing your cheek. “If you ditched that old-fashioned prick and came with me instead, I think you’d find yourself much better off.”

Clenching your jaw, you angled your face out of Vox’s grasp. “I'm doing just fine as I am right now, thanks.” You made your voice cold, desperately trying to get your disinterest across. 

“Don’t be so sure.” Vox raised an artificial eyebrow. “I could give you more than Alastor ever could. Join me, and you can become one of Hell’s most powerful Overlords.”

The talking from the surrounding crowd grew louder, people taking pictures and recording the confrontation. The idea that Vox just asked to share his power with some random Sinner was crazy to the rest of the public. It wouldn’t take very long for word to travel all throughout Hell. The idea of your face plastered across cell phones and TV screens across the city made you nervous. Not to mention, you’d have to report to Vox, and he was an asshole. 

“I'm not interested,” you ground out, keeping your back straight to feign confidence. 

Vox scoffed. “Playing hard to get, are we?” He was grinning. “You look so fucking hot when you’re pissed off.”

Silently, you were begging someone, anyone, to come and rescue you. You couldn’t guarantee that you could keep your composure much longer. “I’m not interested,” you repeated, just as sternly. 

“Aww, are you mad, sweetheart?” Vox cooed mockingly. “Upset your owner isn’t here to save you? If you came with me, you’d never have to worry about being on your own.”

In a flash, your hands twitched and a knife was suddenly being held to Vox’s throat. You’d tackled him to the ground, the sharp blade reflecting your bright eyes. His eyes were wide, clearly not expecting you to retaliate.

“Call me sweetheart again and I’ll castrate you, you flat-faced fuck.”

“Oh my!” A dark shadow appeared behind you, quickly followed by Alastor’s tall figure. Despite his smile, you could clearly see he was just as pissed as you were. “Darling, is Vox bothering you?”

“Not anymore.” You pressed the knife closer to his neck, allowing a few droplets of blood to slide down the knife before withdrawing. Licking the blood off the blade, you gave Vox a dark grin. “You taste like battery acid. No wonder no one wants you.”

Alastor laughed heartily. “How true! Come along, my dear! Charlie is probably wondering where we are.” Placing your arm in his, you allowed Alastor to escort you away from the now-silent crowd. 

“I fucking hate that guy,” you snarled once you’d gotten a few blocks away.

“A nuisance, surely,” Alastor agreed. “I must say, you handled that wonderfully. Quite an entertaining display.”

Smiling lightly, you found yourself flushed at the compliment. “It was nothing. He just needed to learn to take ‘no’ for an answer.”

Chuckling, Alastor matched your smile. “I’m sure you got the point along just fine, dearest. And if he didn’t…” Alastor’s face darkened, smile turning sinister. Now it was your turn to laugh, and that was how you walked into the hotel, giggling at each other like a couple of teenage girls.

[moonstruckme]

Hiiiiii mae 🥹 I have a prompt if you might be interested? First prompt not-anon, second request total 💃🏻

At work they play the radio and I heard in an interview that humans are born with only 2 natural fears: falling and loud sounds. Those fears are universal and the only things people are born fearing - every other fear is learned!

I couldn’t help but think of sweet Spencer explaining this when placating (or trying to placate) reader who is anxious/has a phobia/is feeling nervous! Hope it inspires something but no pressure xoxoxoxoxo love you long time

Hey babe, thanks for requesting!!

cw: public speaking anxiety, criminal case in court (case details not discussed)

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 573 words

You’re cold with sweat and trembling in your fingers when Spencer sits down next to you. 

“Hi,” he says. He sounds nearly as nervous as he makes you. His voice, you’ve noticed, is as gentle as his disposition, unchanging regardless of who he’s speaking to. And you’ve heard plenty of Spencer Reid’s voice throughout this case. 

You keep your arms stuck tight to your sides, wary of what you suspect to be atrociously large pit stains. “Hi.” 

“Do you want some water?” 

You take the bottle he holds out to you, not because you do want it but because you’re too nervous to contradict anyone about anything right now. You wonder if that makes you susceptible to suggestion. If so, that will probably not hold up very well in literal court. 

If Spencer’s dissatisfied with the tiny sip you take from the water bottle, he doesn’t say so. 

“You seem nervous,” he says, somehow both kind and matter-of-fact at once. “Is it because of the defense?” 

You shake your head, though that’s not untrue. The defense attorney is only one of the myriad of people you’re going to be expected to speak in front of in a few minutes. Your heart is a squirrel in your chest, scampering wildly

“I don’t really like public speaking,” you say. 

Spencer nods pensively. He’s good at this, at making you feel like he’s really absorbing what you have to say. You’ve wondered on occasion if it’s part of his training. 

“You know, it’s interesting,” he says. “There are actually only two natural fears that humans are born with; falling and loud sounds. Everything else is learned, we pick it up somewhere.” Spencer sets his elbows on his legs, slouching so he can see your face. He’s so handsome it’s unbearable. “Where do you think your fear of public speaking came from?” 

It has the makings of a personal question, but Spencer’s curiosity seems so pure it’s hard to hold it against him. 

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “It’s just always made me nervous.” 

Spencer’s mouth purses. “It might have been so early or subtle that you don’t remember. For a lot of people it comes from feeling like they’re going to be judged.” 

Your lip finds its way between your teeth without your permission, and when you look over Spencer’s gaze is knowing. 

“Everyone is here to judge the accused,” he says gently, “not you. You’re important as a witness, and we’re lucky to have you here, but no one is going to care if you mess up. Their job is to pay attention to what you say, not how you say it. All you have to do is tell the truth.” 

“Yeah.” You try to breathe in, but the air won’t settle in your lungs. “Yeah, okay.” 

“There shouldn’t be any loud sounds or falling in there,” Spencer goes on. If he wasn’t such a professional, you’d almost think he was joking with you. “So nothing’s going to hurt you. You’ll be okay, okay?” 

You glance at him again, and the profiler’s lips are curved in a small smile. You don’t know how he can do it, stay so good when he spends his whole day knee-deep in the minds of bad guys. But despite what he does for a living and all he’s certainly been through because of it, there’s a lightness about Spencer. It feels like peace. 

“Yeah,” you say again. “Thanks.” 

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Simon “Ghost” Riley w/ a Pregnant S/O

Warnings: AFAB Reader, pregnancy, minor spoilers of Ghost’s past, mentions of abuse, minor angst and reassurance, fluff, Ghost being protective

When you first told Ghost you were pregnant, he freaked out.

Reagardless of whether you'd been actively trying for a child or not, the fact that it was actually happening solidified to Simon that he was capable of living a normal, happy life, one that he is always worrying will end in some way.

Will take him a day or two to comprehend that you're both bringing a child into the world, but when he does, he's simultaneously fried with anxiety and overjoyed.

He may not show it, having been forced into and training himself to display stoicism at any given point, but he will begin planning well in advance.

Planning for what, you may ask?

Everything.

The safest area to move to (though you'll always be safe with Simon regardless of location), the best schools you can both afford, the type of house you'll live in.

He knows he's going to have to hide his masks when the kid's born.

There are certain parts of his past he doens't want them knowing; most of it, if he's honest.

He promises to be the best father he can.

Having come from an abusive household himself, Ghost would be hesitant to even have a child to begin with, not knowing if he's capable of paternal love.

But when you reassure him that he is the only man you'd want to have a child with, Ghost allows himself to trust, something you'd taught him after a difficult life devoid of trusting others.

He definitely puts his hands over your stomach whenever you're alone.

Looks at your growing bump with all the love in the universe.

It scares him how much love he feels for you and his child.

Never leaves you alone.

With you 24/7.

He's granted early paternal leave by his employers since he's seen as a liability for now.

He knows he wouldn't be able to concentrate entirely on his job, wondering if you're okay.

Tries convincing you to stay inside all the time.

Doesn't want anyone else except close family and friends seeing you.

Doesn't trust anyone to take care of you properly.

Does all the shopping.

Domestic Ghost.

One day when he's doing the laundry, you pick up one of his masks from the laundry basket; one he'd left in his bag weeks ago and forgotten to wash.

"I think you look so handsome in this," you said, leaning against the doorway.

Ghost scoffed. "That supposed to be an insult?"

"Not at all, my love," you said, coming up behind him and placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Doubt the kid'll see the good in it like you do," His voice was gruff. He was thinking of something, and you could guess what.

"This," you said, holding up the mask, "is nothing to be ashamed of."

Ghost turned, looked at you, eyes doubtful.

"Then what is it, (Y/N)?" He stood to his full height, blocking out anything that wasn't him.

"It's who you were," you say, carefully. You put the mask back into the basket and place your hands on both of Ghost's shoulders.

"It's proof that you are enough and capable and worthy of having a family," you smiled at him. "This family."

Let's just say that Ghost definitely showed you his appreciation after your pep talk.

Is a very good cook, though only when it comes to simple, nutrition-packed meals.

Goes out and gets you whatever you're craving at that time.

Thinks you are the most beautiful person in the world.

You just have a glow about you when you're pregnant.

Gets extremely territorial.

More so than usual.

Is reluctant to let his associates know about your existence, nevermind that you’re pregnant.

When they meet you, however, he can see that you’ll have an unbreakable support system for life.

They all love you, all offering something of their skill set for your child like the fairies in Sleeping Beauty.

“This child’s got so many uncles,” you said to Ghost after they’d all left, folding some clothes and putting them into the drawer.

“Hm. And not one of them competent.”

You threw a balled-up pair of socks at Ghost, smiling playfully.

“Oi! They’re competent enough to be working with you.”

“Weeding out terrorists and raising a child are two very different things.”

You chuckled. “I cannot argue with that.”

A minute of silence passed. Then:

“You’ll always be safe with us, (Y/N).”

You turned and walked towards Ghost, coming to stand at his side. You took his hand in yours, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckle.

“I know, Love. I know.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[scoops-stevie-archive]

@outpastthebrakers posted a thing about hospital security guard eddie and er nurse steve and @zerokrox-blog sent in a prompt for a steddie med school au, but despite working in a hospital, i don't know anything about med school other than it's 4 years of schooling and 4 years of residency, so i couldn't deliver on that part unfortunately. but i hope yall enjoy regardless!

"Are you gonna actually do something tonight, or are you just gonna sit there and look handsome like always?"

Steve pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he looks up from the computer and rolls his eyes.

"I could ask you the same thing, you know," he says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "This is the third time you've been down here in the last," Steve checks his watch, "hour. Don't you have a parking lot to patrol or something?"

Eddie only laughs and hooks his thumbs into his belt loops. "Bold of you to assume they let me drive the car, big boy. Nah, Preston drives and I get to be the passenger princess I was born to be."

Steve snorts. He definitely doesn't pay attention to the looks the other nurses are giving them.

"Besides," Eddie continues. He leans his elbows on the counter of the nurse's station. "It's your fault I'm down here so often in the first place."

"Oh really?" Steve raises an eyebrow and doesn't hide the fact that he's checking out the tattoos on Eddie's forearms that are showcased by the short sleeves of his uniform shirt framing his biceps. Hospital uniform policy says minimal jewelry but Eddie's never been one for conformity so his fingers are adorned with rings of different size.

(Hospital policy also says that security staff are, under no circumstances, to physically harm violent patients or visitors, but that policy doesn't say anything about Eddie threatening to dole out a knuckle sandwich or two.)

Eddie tracks Steve's gaze and smirks. He taps his fingers on the counter in a rolling rhythm, his black nail polish accenting the flashiness of his rings.

Eddie leans in a little more (which isn't necessary because the counter is a foot above the desk Steve is sitting at) and almost purrs, public decency be damned, "Because, princess, if it weren't for you, I'd be stuck up in my office doing something boring, like reading." He places a hand on his chest. "As much as I love my dragon hoard of books, seeing your pretty face for twelve hours is a much better option."

Steve blushes and tries to sputter out a response, but the radio clipped to Eddie's shoulder goes off.

Eddie confirms the call and groans, dropping his head.

The moment is all Steve needs to compose himself. "Oh no," he frowns, insincere but his tone teasing. "You have to actually do your job. How awful."

Eddie mouths wordlessly back at him, mocking, but then grins and raps his knuckles on the counter once more, giving him a wink. "Don't miss me too much, sweetheart."

Steve tries to not watch as Eddie walks down the hallway, but god those pants fit him so well. He's always had a thing for tiny, perky asses.

"Steve."

Steve jumps and does not yelp like a child. He turns to see his colleague Jen. Jen's been working in the ER for a few years and is a spitfire with a heart of gold.

"You've been flirting with him for months and neither of you have made a real move on each other. What the hell? The betting pool Trent and Brett have is getting shallow."

The tips of Steve's ears start to burn. "Betting pool?!" He turns his chair around to the guys mentioned and they're very much making an effort not to look at him. "You guys are betting on us hooking up? How old are you, twelve?"

"Stevie," Jen sighs in a dramatic way that reminds Steve of Robin and it makes his heart clench. "You have turned down every single person in the vicinity since you started. Eddie is obviously into you and you're into him. I'm going to say this as nicely as I can because you're my favorite out of all the graduates: Please jump this man's bones so I can get my $50."

"My love life is only worth $50 to you?"

"Steve."

Steve groans and hits his head on the desk.

xxxxxxxx

Eddie outright moans when 7am rolls around and he's finally able to take off his uniform. He shoves the bulletproof vest and his holster belt into his locker and his shirt and pants into his dufflebag to be washed later.

God, he doesn't even want to think about laundry.

After he got the call that pulled him away from Steve, it was like the floodgates opened. Two code violets, one report of a car circling the ASU parking lot suspiciously, and three code browns that ended up being patients sneaking outside for a smoke.

He didn't blame them. With the night he had, he's regretting his decision to quit.

Eddie walks through the automatic doors at the entrance of the hospital after he's changed back into his civvies, and those regrets immediately disappear and his mood brightens when he sees who's waiting for him.

Wayne's van is parked in the drop off zone and the sliding door is opened. A bright grin stretches across Eddie's tired face as he gets closer to his little girl, happily squirming in her car seat and drinking juice out of her bottle.

"Da-dee!"

Eddie lets his bag slide off his shoulder and onto the ground but Wayne picks it up and puts it next to Emma's diaper bag.

"Hi, baby!" Eddie coos as he unbuckles her. "Good morning!" He kisses her cheek and buries his nose in her hair, a chesnut brown like her dad's, and cuddles her close. "I missed you so much. Did you have fun with papaw last night?"

"She fussed a little after you left but I got her settled," Wayne says. He holds up a McDonald's bag. "Decided she was gonna get an early start this morning so I figured yall could use some breakfast."

Eddie's stomach chooses the right time to growl and his mouth waters. Last he ate was a TV dinner around one in the morning. Eddie tells Wayne to pick a spot in the visitor's parking lot and then takes Emma back inside the hospital with him.

He doesn't see Steve when he gets to the ER.

"Hey, Steve hasn't left yet, has he?"

A nurse, Jen, Eddie thinks her name is, looks at him and immediately starts cooing at the (admittedly adorable) baby in his arms that's looking around with curious eyes and drinking her juice.

"Steve's in the locker room getting changed, he's just about to clock out. Who is this little cutie?"

Eddie grins and bounces Emma lightly. "This is Emma, my little monster. She gets all her cuteness from her other dad."

Jen's face falls for a second but before Eddie can ask what's wrong, Emma squeals way too loudly for a hospital at 7:30 in the morning and almost throws her bottle in her excitement.

"Da! Da!"

Steve looks just about as tired as Eddie feels and he can practically hear their bed calling their names. But Steve's eyes light up when he hears who's calling for him and a sort of puppy-like grin takes over his face, dopey and happy.

Emma is already reaching for him and Steve quickly strides over and takes her in his arms.

"Good morning, lovebug," Steve says, enveloping her in the gentlest hug he can muster. He breathes in her natural baby smell and closes his eyes.

Eddie's hand goes to his waist to keep him awake and Steve hums, opening his eyes and leaning into give Eddie a peck on the cheek.

"Morning, baby," he murmurs, all traces of teasing and flirting from the night before gone and replaced with open affection.

Steve doesn’t need to look at Jen to know her jaw is probably on the floor.

Eddie returns the kiss on Steve's lips. "Morning, sweetheart. Wayne’s waiting with breakfast outside. Seems like little miss princess here decided she was gonna wake up early, early today." He tickles Emma's tummy as he says this, causing her to laugh around her binky and try to push his fingers away.

"Food sounds so good right now," Steve practically whines.

Jen is still staring between the three of them. Steve smiles sheepishly.

"Sorry you didn't win your money. I should’ve told you, Eddie and I have been together for years. Emma's our daughter." He shifts Emma in his arms and gives everyone a wave. "I'll see you guys later."

He and Eddie walk out of the hospital hand in hand. They eat their breakfast in the parking lot and Wayne follows them to their house to stay up with Emma while Steve and Eddie get some much needed sleep.

When they go back into work later that evening, they fess up to everyone and Eddie gives Jen $50 right from his own wallet.

[lorelune]

lobotomy commission

|| jing yuan x gn!reader || T || love sick hopefully lovers || wc: 3.9k  || ao3 ||

The Xianzhou Alliance has... never allowed lobotomies? Why are you so insistent on receiving one?

(The General, the Divine Foresight.)

minors, antis, and ageless blogs dni

a/n: oh mister general jing yuan you have me so damn heart eyes. here's a lil sweet treat!!!!

CW: fluff, friends to lovers, jing yuan being a bit silly, alcohol consumption, FLUFF, a bit of crack being taken seriously

"Lady Fu, I need to be put down." Your cheek hits the low table. You feel pathetic. It's a Thursday and you're teary-eyed after far too little wine to be in such a state. You sniffle.

"No one is 'putting you down'!" Fu Xuan huffs from the other side, patting your arm. "It's rare that you’re this mopey. What’s troubling you?"

"I am not 'mopey'. I need a lobotomy. Which of the commissions would handle this procedure?"

Lady Fu frowns, clicks her tongue, and sighs your name, “A lobotomy, really?

"Yes, exactly. As soon as possible, preferably.” You down the rest of your cup and restlessly flip your phone screen up. 

"This is particularly pathetic. Stop drinking and wallowing and just tell me what's wrong."

"Fu Xuan, you will scold me." You push yourself up on the table and shake your head. "No, actually, you will fire me. You will send me to my office this very instant, force me to pack up my things, and turn in my permissions. I'll be out of a job. Then, I'll be homeless. then—"

"No, nuh-uh, no more dramatics!" Fu Xuan slaps a hand over your mouth. You're glad you’re seated in a private corner of the bar, as this is a rather pathetic display on both of your parts. "Please just tell me, what’s the matter?”

Your dilemma. 

"I like the General."

Fu Xuan frowns, expression pinched, and her hand falls heavily onto the table. "That... isn’t exactly new information? Even if it’s a... questionable call of taste, the general is handsome. Occasionally charming when he isn’t being an oaf on purpose. I don’t think having a bit of a crush on the Divine Foresight is anything unusual. Half of the population of the Luofu holds the same opinion.

“Okay, but,” you unlock your phone, a ceramic, cat-shaped charm swinging from the vase as you wobble. “What if the General were to return my feelings? And he invited me for a walk and a meal tomorrow evening?”

Fu Xuan's jaw drops. "You're joking."

"I'm not,” you whine and slide your phone across the table.

...

Divine Foresight 🦁:

Are you free tomorrow evening? I know a terrace that has a splendid view of the overlook near the Cinnabar Eyeline. I would be delighted to take you to it and share a meal after, 

Divine Foresight 🦁:

If you'll have me :3c

...

“Oh... wow.”  Fu Xuan looks shocked. It’s hard to shock her, but she does tend to avoid divining the destiny of those she is close to (unless entirely necessary.) Her intuition regardless of mathematics and astral geometry is, however, keen. Yet her eyes are wide and she struggles to gather her words. “What a menace.”

“I know.”

“The General is rarely so forward. I’ve never heard of him being so forward.”

“I know.”

“Except, perhaps—”

“With me?” You rub your cheeks. They’re warm from the wine. 

“Only you. Though this is particularly... telling. I’m sure it’s sincere.”

“I would agree.” Your stomach flutters, and you swallow the feeling down. 

Fu Xuan narrows her eyes and says your name, mouth in a thin line, "You haven't replied."

“And that’s why I need the lobotomy.” You swallow. “I’m going to turn him down.”

“WHAT?!”

You need another drink.

Fu Xuan clearly does not. Her cheeks flush rosy pink as she slaps her hands on the low table. “Why would you reject him? Even if he’s a scoundrel— he is genuine.”

“I know, that’s why I can’t accept his... proposition.”

Despite knowing that Jing Yuan serially denies any potential suitors or daring admirers. You know that it has always been like this— from the time long ago when he first gained rank, to his ‘withered age’ as he self-deprecating refers to himself now. He is always kind about his rejections, you’ve witnessed one or two of them, but he never even entertains the idea of romantic partnership. You’ve never heard him mention it or any desires. 

So, for him to so bluntly ask you on a date—

He couldn’t be more clear with his feelings. 

“You’re a fool.”

“Now, you’re getting it.” You pour yourself another glass of plum wine. Your shared bottle is nearly empty. “This is why I need the lobotomy.”

Fu Xuan watches you drink your glass in a single go. Her brows are pinched and her arms are crossed. Her shoulders sag a moment later.

“I do believe I understand your reasoning, and I don’t think it’s lobotomy-worthy.”

“... High praise.” 

“[Name].”

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry.” You laugh behind your palm. The world feels sticky and bouncy, all at once. You crave the respite of your own bed. “I can’t accept his proposition in the form of a text. I mean, Lady Fu, he's the most powerful man on the Luofu. He is renowned in all fields of battle, strategic, and social graces. He’s kind. He probably like, kisses babies on Sundays at the markets."

"He does not."

"You never know!" You groan. "That's all to say that I won't accept an invitation to a date with this little effort put into it."

"... Because it's a text?"

"Because it's a text." You nod.

Fu Xuan pauses, then sighs. 

“I can’t decide if that makes you a fool or not.” Her hair is frizzing up with the humidity. "Perhaps you have a point, the General is old enough to know and have some decorum when going about these things."

"Maybe he's a virgin? But like, for dating." 

"I'd have to check... certain records. Archives. To confirm or deny that."

You wilt, “He probably isn’t. I’m being foolish.” 

“No, you’re not.” Fu Xuan smooths a hand over your cheek with a frown. 

"Lady Fu," you cry and wish you were at home. In bed. Maybe you should block his number. "You're supposed to say, 'You absolutely are, my most beloved junior, I will schedule your lobotomy and—’"

"No more talk of lobotomies, please."

"Fine, fine." you sigh and finish off your final cup as Lady Fu does as well. "Do you think I'm nuts for turning him down?"

"... No, I don't." Fu Xuan looks shy for a moment. A lot more human than her lofty station implies. "I don't doubt that... Jing Yuan has feelings for you. I see how he looks at you. But he ought to romance you a bit. A text is low effort. You should reply regardless though."

"I'm going to, I just needed some courage. And moral support." You give her a soft smile and tap back into your messages. Fu Xuan practically crawls around the table to your side. She leans her head on your shoulders and her eyes droop. You take a heavy inhale, then exhale, attempt to focus your blurry vision and craft.

...

You:

General, though I'm flatered by your offer, I will need to decline. Though I will ackknowledge what I would imagine (and hope)) to be your genun

You:

geuine

You:

gennuie

You:

genuine

You:

feelings, I cannot accept an invitation in the form of a text message. I must be wooed.

You:

lady Fuu says "if you are capable of such things"

You:

pls don't fire her she's a good boss and so nice

You:

[picture from XX/XX/XXXX @ 2:14 AM]

...

The next morning is hell. Hell. You wished you had undergone your requested lobotomy. It certainly feels like someone has stuck metal rods into your brain, with the migraine pounding the back of your eyes. Maybe a hangover this bad is somewhat equivalent to a lobotomy. Your memory of your night prior is... cloudy, to say the least. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth as you manage to down a glass of water and a handful of peachy-colored pills. You speed walk to the Divination Commission, shooting Fu Xuan an apologetic “sorry, running late, forgive me 🙏" text. 

You mentally pat your drunk self on the back. After you sent your... rejection (ouch) to the General, you muted his messages and deleted the thread. No evidence, no way to feel awkward about it sober. And no way to dwell on it either. Besides, you hardly remember what you said to him after your last glass of wine. It’s hazy in your memory.

It was... perhaps a foolish way to go about things. You certainly could have approached the General and talked about it, but he sometimes spoke in circles about matters of the heart. Maybe... maybe you felt too fragile to dance that dance, if it came to that. Maybe, you were a bit overwhelmed by his invitation. You know all too well that he does not let himself be pursued. He does not pursue others. 

You feel blind-sided by the whole thing.

But that doesn’t matter— because you cleanly rejected him and your only repercussion is a hangover that you’re sure Fu Xuan is twinning. 

And besides, it’s better that you rejected him. He’s of such a high— highest station. He wouldn’t have time for you, surely. You... have gotten used to your entirely and completely platonic, twice-a-month lunch dates and the occasional star chess lesson (where he never lets you win but you swear you'll give him a run for his money.) But it's fine. You can let go of those things, along with your feelings for the General.

It's better this way.

You think these thoughts somewhat confidently until you arrive at the Divination Commission and find a crowd swarming the central platform under the Matrix of Prescience Ultima. Frowning, you try to weave through the edge of it to your office, where you conveniently have a few nutrition shakes stashed away that you most certainly need. You’re already late and this hangover needs to go. You have a full docket for the day that you need to make fuller so you don’t think about—

You nearly stumble when you hear a rich, familiar, roll of laughter. You freeze, slowly turning to the sound. A crown of fluffy hair peaks above the small crowd, a red ribbon waving in the breeze.

Absolutely fucking not.

You duck, just in case, and try to creep below the crowd. You probably look ridiculous, but you absolutely cannot see Jing Yuan. You can’t. Your poorly-thought out, hungover plan of not caring about the General does somewhat heavily rely on not seeing the man. You trip over over your own feet and barely catch yourself so as to not tumble to the ground.

Jing Yuan calls your name and 

You freeze before jolting to your full height a moment later. The gaggle of your coworkers part enough so that you’re able to see him— lit so well and handsomely in the morning sun, smiling so easily with... perhaps a hint of mischief in the curve of his lips. 

He waves with his free hand, while a massive bouquet is pillowed in the crook of his arm.

The flowers are beautiful— off-ship exotics, clearly. The colors are all bright oranges and vibrant blues. Thinner stems are topped with bundles of white, delicate flowers that break the barrage of colors. They look fresh, like they’d been cut this morning. Fu Xuan stands next to him, clearly hungover herself and close to popping a blood vessel. It’s incredibly rare that the General do anything in the mornings, especially causing a commotion in the Divination Commission. 

Jing Yuan, who is more than likely aware of this, looks entirely unbothered. Actually, he glows as he calls your name, gentle and rich, and the sound of it hits you in the chest, “There you are.”

"Here I am." You're not. You need that lobotomy. You nod to him curtly, "General. Is there something I can help you with today?"

Fu Xuan looks like she’s going to expire right there on the platform. 

Jing Yuan cocks his head knowingly, “There is, yes. I have a rather personal matter to discuss in private with you. Are you available?”

You have things on your schedule. You can make yourself appear busy, if it means not dealing with the General you can’t really hide from and the beautiful bouquet in his arms. “Well—”

“They’re free.” Fu Xuan all but pushes you toward him. You regret covering her tab the night before. “Especially free, since I’ll be rescheduling our weekly meeting to tomorrow.”

“Is that really necessary—?” You laugh and wring your hands. You feel caught in the worst way. “General, will this personal discussion take much time? I am quite busy today—”

Jing Yuan, who has been watching your exchange with Fu Xuan wordlessly, looks a bit... crestfallen. It’s hard to tell on a man who holds himself like the General, but it’s there. A crease between his brows that’s slight, but visible and abnormal. Maybe he’s holding the bouquet a little tighter than he probably thought. There’s a sheen of sweat on his temple that, if asked, he would probably blame on the heat index for the day.

Your words die in your throat as you take him in and force yourself to meet his gaze. Honeyed and sad, a bit like a kicked dog.

“... I suppose, I could arrange a proper appointment with you. Perhaps it was uncouth of me to expect such accommodations to be made for me last minute. I apologize.” You can hear his tone change. It may be imperceptible to someone else, but you notice the shift in him. Gone is the playful lilt and air of mischief, on his a veneer of niceties that you... had forgotten he loses around you. 

Something in your chest aches.

You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Floundering. Jing Yuan adjusts his hold on the bouquet—

“Enough of this.” Lady Fu shakes her head. She shoos a hand toward the lingering onlookers. “Back to work, now. Don’t eavesdrop either. I’ll know if you do.”

(Debatable, but it’s Fu Xuan’s favorite threat.)

Once the crowd has dispersed, she turns toward you too. You needed that lobotomy, like, yesterday. 

“I will make the necessary changes to your schedule so you can speak privately for as long as you need." She points at you, then Jing Yuan. “Sort this.”

The General raises an eyebrow at her. She’s bold to speak in such a way to someone above her own station, but Lady Fu doesn't dare back down. She glares at him, then you, partially covering her mouth to block Jing Yuan’s view before mouthing, “FIX THIS!!!!” 

...

On the way to your office, you walk side by side, in silence. You’re trying to think of the right words to say.

“... Are you sure you have time for this, General?” You ask him, softly. “I don’t mean to ask as a slight— just— I don’t want to inconvenience you is all.”

“Of course.” He replies easily. You turn down the long, quiet corridor that leads to your office. It’s tucked away in a corner of the divination Commission, facing outward toward the Arbor’s stump with tall windows providing a sunlit view. You’re glad you don’t have to look at him as you unlock the door with a thick-looking key. “This is a rather pertinent, time-sensitive matter we’re discussing. My own schedule is not consequential in this case. Haste, moreso.”

You laugh under your breath.

“Great Lan, Qingzu is going to kill me.” You sigh before pushing the door open with a shake of your head. Perhaps a smile curls on your lips. Who’s to say. “Did you at least not leave a pile of paperwork for her to delegate in your stead?”

“And what, diminish the time I have for my afternoon nap with busy work?” Jing Yuan laughs. The sound fills you from the bottom up and you want to choke on it. You tear your gaze away from him. “Such a thing would be unhealthy, you know. I’m an old man.”

“An old man who needs an ample amount of beauty sleep.” You tease him, it’s easy to. You speak before you even have a chance to think about the warm nature of your words. The meaning behind the bouquet in his arms that he still hasn’t given to you. 

Why Jing Yuan is in your office at all. 

“... If this is about my texts my last night—”

“It is, partially.” Jing Yuan hums. “I’m afraid I’ve slighted you, and it’s of the utmost importance I correct my transgression.”

 “That’s— That’s not necessary, General.” Your cheeks burn. 

“It is. Entirely, in fact. Stating my intentions with you over text messages was... a poor choice on my part. I must apologize appropriately, don’t you think? 

“I mean— that’s—” Your words flounder in your mouth. “Kind of you.” 

It is kind of him. He certainly doesn’t need to be here, in your cramped office, with a bouquet that costs close to what you make in a day of work. He doesn’t need to be showing a sincere, lovesick smile as he speaks. He’s showing you a card he’s kept close to his chest. One you, perhaps, guessed he had, but hadn’t intended to ever see.

He presents you with the bouquet, “You said you must be wooed, and I am here to begin that process explicitly.”

"... I said what?" You’re going to burst into flames. 

“I thought you may not recall your exact words. Did you and Lady Fu have a fun night together?” Jing Yuan chuckles, and you flush so hot you feel almost faint. “You said that I must, and I quote, ‘woo you’.” 

He smiles at you, the glint in his eye a bit more mischievous. More knowing. He’s toying with you. 

“I— no— I’m so sorry, General.” You cover your face with your hands and back into your desk. “Forget I said that. Please forget I said anything.”

“Please, use my name.” He corrects, gently. “I’d prefer not to forget. You have a point, I should have stated my intentions clearly and to you in person.”

You peek at him between your fingers. He still holds the bouquet out to you, like he’s trying to lure a cagey cat in for a pet rather than make a confession. You feel out of sorts. Off kilter. That said— it is nice to hear him in person. Your heart has been oscillating between fluttering and pounding. 

Jing Yuan tilts his head sweetly at you. You take the bouquet from him and examine it closer. There’s yellow and lilac pollen dusted on the filaments, fresh and fragrant. 

“Jing Yuan, then.” You reply to him, softly. It’s hardly the first time you’ve called him by his name, rather than a title, but he preens when you speak regardless. “... So, you intend to woo me then?”

“Entirely.” Jing Yuan hums to himself, looking quite proud. “I do fully recant my offer I sent previously. Though I would be happy to lounge with you in the terraces and see some lovely views, I’ve secured a reservation for this evening at a lovely restaurant in the Exalting Sanctum, if you would accompany me.” 

Your stomach flips pleasantly.  You can’t help the little smile that’s twitching over your lips. You take care to not crush the bouquet in your arms, despite the urge to squeeze it to your chest, just to tamp down the thumping of your heart. Stroking your thumb over the silken petal of lush, round-petaled bloom, you let yourself smile. 

You can practically hear Jing Yuan holding his breath. His eyes look hopeful and young. 

“I accept,” you reply. “Consider me wooed.”

“It was that easy?” Jing Yuan’s voice takes that air of smugness that you know is a farce but you still can’t help but to approach him and bat your hands at his chest.

“I already like you, you know,” You laugh. “I was more offended that you wouldn’t face me and tell me your intentions. I hardly know the General to be a coward. I was a bit slighted.”

Jing Yuan catches your wrists in one of his hands and gently holds them against your sternum. His fingers lay over the thump of your heart; you wonder if he can feel it. You feel pleasantly woozy when you meet his eyes and all their intensity. Intention. 

“I apologize.” He speaks smoothly, easily. Perhaps ducking his head down to be closer to your own. “It’s quite difficult to proposition someone so beautiful and kind.”

“Ah, so the General was hiding behind a screen, then?” You laugh over the heat rising in your cheeks. “I’ve never known you to be a coward.”

Jing Yuan hums, and you pop up on the corner of your desk. He’s close enough to feel the heat of him, and see the threading of his uniform and the glitter woven into the rich fabrics.

“Hm, I wouldn’t say it has anything to do with cowardice.” Jing Yuan shakes his head. His breath is warm over your cheeks. “I planned to tell you my intentions of courting you at the Terraces, once you accepted. I, perhaps, was too presumptuous in expecting you to assume beyond my initial ask. I should have been more clear.”

You stifle a laugh and flex your hands, still held in his firm, but kind grip. 

“Jing Yuan, if you continue to speak to me so directly, I’ll demand you take me out now and not this evening.”

“Is that so?”

“Entirely.” You struggle to maintain eye contact and not let your gaze drift down to his lips. “I’m not used to you speaking so clearly, only your riddles.”

“What riddles?” He tilts his head, curly, a sweet smile on his face that is far too mischievous for who he is expected to be.

“Oh, you know—”

“Do I?” Jing Yuan asks. He steps between your thighs, the width of him forcing your legs wider. As if your flush could be any more intense. “You must tell me more over lunch. I’ll send a message to Lady Fu and clear your schedule?”

“... She did say to take as long as we need to sort this,” You soften, a bit intimated, if only for a moment. “Is this sorted?”

Jing Yuan hums, “You did say you were wooed. I’d consider that fairly sorted.”

“And you’ll have me?” You ask him, daring to slide your arms over his shoulders. The contact bubbles up months of tension over Star Chess boards (during games that, perhaps, were not entirely platonic). 

“I’d be honored.” Jing Yuan’s voice sounds sweet, more quiet than you’ve heard before, like it’s just for you to hear. 

There’s an edge to it all still— something raw and new that will need to be tempered. That is the nature of immortality and the relationships and partnerships that come with it. Complexes develop, heal, and grow differently within the self. You’ve already gamed out a few of Jing Yuan’s (a cursed Master who he will only reference in melancholy, unrequited love he was too young for, so many tragedies that he somehow manages to give himself for not preventing). He is perceptive. You’re sure he has put together some of yours as well. 

For now, there’s a promise of good things. There’s the feel of him pressing his lips to yours, gentle but unyielding, strung with a mutual yearning that, in retrospect, would’ve been a shame to crush and hide away. There’s the warmth of him so close, and closer still when you drag him closer by the nape of his neck.

You can feel his grin against your lips, and you mirror it easily.

No riddles, only a fragrant bouquet and intention. 

[hannieehaee]

Svt w an older s/o?

them having an older s/o

content: established relationship, fluff, reader is older than the member, mention of milfs, etc.

wc: 814

a/n: thank u for requesting!! hope u enjoy <3

masterlist

seungcheol -

he'd feel a little intimidated by you, feeling like maybe his ideal role as 'the dependable boyfriend' was being threatened by the simple fact that you were a few years older than him. however, as long as you let him take care of you in every way he'd wanna take care of an s/o, he would not mind an age gap at all.

jeonghan -

even though i dont think he'd be against having an older s/o, he gives me the vibe that maybe he'd prefer someone younger (?) he seems to like babying people, BUT if you were to be older and still allow him to take that nurturing and caretaking role in the relationship then he would not care about any age difference.

joshua -

man does he love himself a milf. okay, but seriously, i dont think he'd care whether or not you were older than him. he would actually enjoy knowing you were older and had already gone through life experiences he was yet to reach himself. he'd treat you like anyone his age, but would feel reassured knowing he could lean on you a little more.

jun -

his overly youthful and sometimes kiddish (/pos!!) personality would be perfectly balanced out by someone older and maybe more mature. other than that, i dont think he'd really feel any type of way about his s/o being older than him. he'd simply think that a good match is a good match and that was that.

soonyoung -

could not care less for your age. he probably didnt even ask for your age until your birthday approached. it'd likely make him excited actually. just something about dating someone a bit more experienced than him would keep him interested and on his toes. would tease you about it sometimes, though (even if you had a very small age difference).

wonwoo -

he'd find it really easy to get along with you. he'd enjoy the change of pace whenever he was around you – unlike when he was surrounded by his 20 (give or take) year old friends. due to you being older (and him nearing his 30's), he'd be a little quicker to wanting to settle down with you.

jihoon -

i think he would enjoy being with someone older since to him age may imply wisdom. he's very mature for his age and has always had to bare the responsibility of seventeen's success, which has probably made him age ten extra years ahead of time. he would easily meet your maturity level and be eye to eye with you in that aspect.

seokmin -

can't help but be reminded of yewon noona lmao. just based off that i assume seokmin might be into (or might just be indifferent) having an older s/o. seokmin has too much love and pureness in his heart to ever consider age to be a factor to consider when falling in love. however, due to his youthful personality, it wouldn't surprise me if he was into someone with a bit more life experience.

mingyu -

gives me vibes that he'd be into milfs. idk he's just so handsome and charming and outgoing that i think older women probably fall for him super easily. regardless of gender i think that if mingyu was into someone older than him he'd just go for it. he's mature and old enough to appreciate a relationship despite of age.

minghao -

oh you're older than him? cool. would not even consider it a decisive factor when it comes to looking for an s/o. to him, love was love, which meant that your age didnt matter much to him. it'd actually be nice to date someone who had more life experience than him. he'd seek wisdom from you whenever he felt like he needed it, hoping to learn from you while also sharing some of his own.

seungkwan -

previous evidence (him being bffs with everyone in the industry regardless of age) convinces me that he has a really easy time charming people who are older than him. it'd make him feel good to know that his his youthful charisma could get anyone to fall for him.

vernon -

another member who would not care nor consider your age. would probably even forget about it after being told your age. were you older? cool. were you slightly younger? equally as cool. has no preference nor defined opinion as to whether he prefers a younger or older s/o.

chan -

he's probably already used to being surrounded by people older than him, not only with being the maknae to such a large group but also due to being surrounded by staff members and other idols who were likely also a bit older than him. he'd enjoy the sense of calm an older s/o would bring him. there would be familiarity that he would feel in the dynamic between the two of you.

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Mr. (Not so) Perfectly Fine

AN: Not sure where this came from, but here we are. Maybe one day I'll write Josh in a non-toxic way lol. Also tagging Kai @lovelyhan because it's the law. I joked about writing a series of fics based on Taylor Swift songs. This fic isn't part of that idea. I just thought this title felt fitting (it's based off of a Taylor Swift song for anyone unaware).

Synopsis: Falling in love with Joshua was easy. It came to you easier than breathing. It's no wonder, then, that when he offers you a fraction of his affection after shattering your heart months ago, that you would grasp for it. Regardless of the consequences.

General tags and warnings: Joshua Hong x Fem! Reader, not super relevant to the plot but, this is a Non-Idol AU, exes to exes with benefits, elements of angst, Josh is emotionally constipated, Soonyoung and Seungkwan featuring as supportive but, tired friends, discussions around Reader having low self-esteem and being self-loathing at times, discussions around an unhealthy relationship and returning to it, alcohol and alcohol consumption, Seokmin featuring as a genuinely good guy who probably deserves better and discussions around jealousy and possessiveness on Josh's end.

Smut tags: mentions of throatfucking, mentions of piv sex with a condom (I know who am I?), mentions of a Daddy kink, it's implied that Josh is pretty self-centered (generally but, sexually more specifically) but, that does get remedied later, nipple play (f. receiving), Reader sucks on Josh's fingers, praise (f. receiving), implications of Reader being a bit of a masochist, Reader sits on Josh's face, overstimulation (f. receiving), pet names, dirty talk, begging, piv sex without a condom, marking (f. receiving), biting (f. receiving) and creampie.

Word count: 8514 (...I don't want to talk about it.)

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

The first time you found yourself at Joshua's doorstep was an innocuous Thursday evening. The sun had begun its descent on the horizon when you began the familiar route to his apartment building. You're not entirely sure what possessed you to knock on his front door, or what had possessed you to drive there to begin with. However, when he swung his door open, dressed in nothing but, a simple black shirt that clung a little too tightly to his broad chest and some grey sweats. Surprise colouring his handsome face, you knew it was too late to back away now.

To your shock, however, Josh had let you in without much question. Stepping aside wordlessly, you took the very obvious invitation. The sight of his living room was familiar in a way that churned the pit of your stomach. You weren't going to fall apart in his living room like the way you had when he broke up with you. You wouldn't allow yourself to. Wasn't it pathetic enough that you'd come grovelling back to him without much of a reason as to why? That you're likely about to have the most uncomfortable conversation that you've had in your entire life?

You're not sure what you'd expected from Joshua. He joined you on his couch, always too white for your liking but, didn't say anything. You weren't sure if he'd been waiting for you to explain why you're at his place after close to four months of next to zero contact.

Idiot. Of course he was.

"I," you start but, the words never seemed to find you. You focused on the pictures that decorated his wall. Choosing to look at anywhere that wasn't him at the risk of losing your already fickle train of thought. Pictures of him in suits with different friends and business partners. His work smile working overtime in all of them as he'd been showered with endless awards and promotions.

His work had always been the love of his life.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," were the first words he'd uttered to you in months. That had caused you to whip your head to face him. Reading Joshua was a skill you had never been able to master.

Master? You doubt you'd even be considered an amateur at it after a year of being with him.

His face betrayed little but, a barely there glimmer of understanding bled through that even you managed to catch. Understanding is an emotion you wouldn't typically associate with the someone like him. However, it flickers across his too handsome face nonetheless.

Perhaps you should've consulted an exorcist because before you know it, you're not sure what caused you to kiss him. You two have barely spoken, and there you were, gripping his shirt like a lifeline and kissing him on his stupid couch as the figures in his photographs act as spectators. You were going to apologise. You were going to erase him for good from your brain and dig a hole for yourself to crawl into.

But, then he'd kissed you back. His kiss, much like him, wasn't all passion and desperation. It was slow. Methodical. His soft lips refamiliarising themselves with your mouth once more gradually. As if he had all of the time in the world. Testing to see if this would be worth it. If you would be worth it.

Whatever he had been looking for during his exploration, he seemingly found because before you knew it, you found yourself amidst the sheets of his bed. Cool, navy blue sheets acting as a balm to your far too hot skin while his large hands mapped the expanse of your body. His heavy cock bruised the back of your throat before you found yourself arched for him with your face in one of his soft pillows and his long fingers in your hair. After months of no sex, specifically no sex with him, it took you a few long moments to adjust to the sting he provided.

From then, it was bliss.

His pillow muffling your whimpers and moans. Cries of 'Joshua' and 'Josh' and 'Daddy' were partially swallowed by the soft material. Your fingernails clawed at his sheets while he found relief in your body. His hips stuttered into you and filling the condom he had hurriedly put on, especially when the last title had hit his ears.

The two of you dressed in silence. The ruffling of your clothing and the sounds of the city all that you had to comfort you. When you stood on unsteady legs to leave, he hadn't walked you out. Not that you expected him to but, that didn't stop the sting from developing behind your eyes and your throat from growing tight.

Bliss was so, so easy to come back to. And come back, you did. You and Joshua still hadn't spoken all that much. Not putting any labels on... whatever tentative understanding the two of you had. You simply show up to his apartment, and he knows what you're here for. If you can't have him the way you want to, you'll have to settle for the way he needs you.

Two weeks.

Two weeks is the longest time you've gone without knocking on Joshua's front door. You can't help the guilt that twists up inside you and shreds your insides. However, you know rationally that you have nothing to feel guilty about. Joshua isn't your boyfriend anymore. He hasn't been for six months now. The two of you simply find solace in each other's bodies. It has just been easier with him than expending your time and energy on trying to meet anyone. Especially with how little energy and time you have as it with work all but, drowning you.

However, as Seungkwan has tried to sear into your brain, this isn't exactly healthy. Letting yourself fall into his bed and come apart underneath him for the past three months is likely in your top five unwisest decisions you've made in adulthood.

But god, it's just so easy.

"You know you deserve better," Seungkwan stresses to you for the likely millionth time. His typically kind face marred with a frown that does not suit him in the slightest. His glass of wine left completely untouched on your coffee table with his arms cross over his chest. Soonyoung nods, taking a sip of his own wine before speaking, "He's a dick. He's pretty much been using you since the two of you started dating."

"That's not true," you protest, your wine sloshing dangerous before you simmer down a little. "Joshua has his....issues but, I don't think it's fair to say all he does is use me. I mean, I'm the one who showed up to his door after us being broken up," you argue, "If anything this is a mutual using of each other."

"Except you're in love with him," Seungkwan deadpans. Soonyoung once again nods in agreement. Traitor.

"I'm not in love-"

You promptly stop talking when both men shoot you looks. Your face warms and you hide in your glass of wine. The liquid pleasantly heating your veins and acting as a phenomenal distraction from the gazes of your friends that are far, far too piercing.

"We're just here because we're worried," Soonyoung says softly and you can't bare to look into his eyes right now. You're too scared to see what you'll find in them. You're not sure what's worse. The pity or the frustration from the two of them.

"If it makes you two feel any better, I haven't gone to him in two weeks," you respond weakly. Despising the knot that builds in your throat and the tears that burn your eyes. You feel no better than when you were in university crying to them about shitty hookups and even shittier exes.

"That's a great start," Seungkwan responds sounding genuinely happy. Genuinely proud of you. His warm, larger hand grabbing yours and rubbing soothing circles into your skin. "Also, I'm sorry. I know you're an adult and I don't want to come across like I'm scolding you but, it's really hard watching you go back to him and break your heart all over again."

Oh, the guilt is back. Different but, present all the same. At this point, it's become an ever present companion for you.

"I'm sorry too. I know it's not fair for me to put the two of you through this either," you whisper in response. You don't think you're capable of speaking any louder right now.

"Hey now!" Soonyoung butts in, grabbing you both by your shoulders and crushing you to his chest. Seungkwan, to everyone's shock, only protests minimally, "What are friends for? Now both of you stop being so gloomy. We're here to get tipsy on cheap wine, inhale all the carbs we can and watch bad movies. Get it together."

The laugh that Soonyoung forces from you is foreign and a little rough around the edges but, it's one of the few you've managed in longer than you care to think about. And if you cling to him more fiercely than usual, he has the grace not to mention it.

It gets a little easier after that. You haven't found yourself knocking at Joshua's door for a good month now. Soonyoung seems ready to throw you a party over it and the same pity isn't as present in Seungkwan's gaze when the three of you find the time to catch up with each other.

Joshua never messages or calls you in the time you don't spend in his bed. You suppose you shouldn't be surprised. You're typically the one reaching out to him and making the journey to his apartment to experience a fraction of him. To bask in whatever he's willing to offer you.

You're not sure whether what you two have can be classed as affectionate. It was better than nothing, at least, you had supposed.

You still can't help the sparks of bitterness that fester in your system when you open up your chat with him. A simple 'Okay' from him being the last message in the conversation when you asked if you could come over. God, you were pathetic. Sad. Desperate.

Perhaps it's pettiness or spite or the resentment or maybe some part of you still wants his attention but, you send him a message before locking your phone for the night and turning away to face your windows. The voice in your head (that sounds suspiciously like Seungkwan) echoes that maybe that wasn't a good idea. Maybe allowing your anger to get the better of you wasn't wise. However, what's done is done. You just hope sleep finds you quicker than it has over the past two years.

You: I'm going on a date on Friday.

Seokmin is a nice guy.

No, calling him nice isn't fair or true to the man's character. Nice is vague. Meaningless. A platitude at best.

Ever since Soonyoung very heavy handedly sent you his number in the hopes that you'd focus your attention elsewhere, you two had been speaking borderline nonstop for a week now. Him regaling you with the less glamorous aspects of being an actor and you venting to him about a particular unruly classroom. You'd learned that he cried easily and had a weakness for anything dogs related. He'd learned that you love musicals and random historical facts.

It was the first time in a long time Joshua had barely crossed your mind. He still had but, it was an improvement. A week wasn't realistic enough to completely be clean of him but, you were taking steps. Seokmin definitely made it less difficult.

So, when Seokmin, nervousness rolling off of him in waves even over text, had asked you on a date, it was a no-brainer that you'd agree without much question. You deserve a pleasant night out. It also certainly doesn't hurt that Seokmin is an Adonis of a man.

You honestly don't remember the last time you were giddy over a date. Over a man. Butterflies kicking up in a storm in your stomach when you agonise over what you should wear. The temptation to cancel springing up more times than you count with every drag of your hangers and article of clothing that adds to pile accumulating on your bedroom floor. Fortunately, you find a dress in the back of your wardrobe that clings to you in a way that balances attractive and formal masterfully.

Seokmin is somehow even more attractive in person. All the pictures you came across during your search across his social media accounts do not even begin to do him justice. He's funnier too. His tales of disastrous productions and poor costume fittings prompting laughter out of you the likes of which mostly Soonyoung and Seungkwan are able to. Before you know it, it's already been three hours, and your mostly plates and glasses remain largely untouched.

"I had a great time," Seokmin starts once you two are outside. Whether it's the breeze or his proximity to you, goosebumps rise on your skin. It doesn't help that his cologne infiltrates your senses and muddles your mind further. The butterflies have chosen now to make a reappearance as well.

"Me too," you reply, your cheeks hurting from how hard you've been smiling all night and now isn't any different. Seokmin looks for all the world that he wants you to kiss him. Kind, brown eyes fliting down to your lips in a way you assume he hopes is subtle but, it's not. Terribly so. It's cute though. He's cute. However, you think you're going to take it slower this time around. As infatuating as he is, you know you're in no place to be kissing anyone.

Before you can bring up a different topic to help cut some of the tension weighing on your chest, your phone vibrates in your hand. Alerting you that your Uber has arrived.

"Looks like my ride is here," you tell him with a disappointed turn of your lips. For all your reservations, you really wouldn't have minded spending some more time with the man who would put the sun to shame.

"Have a safe ride home. Text me when you get home, okay?" And his blinding smile spreads across his handsome face once more. You've only known Seokmin for a short period but, it feels freeing to talk to someone whose feelings you don't need to attempt to decipher. They're there and clear as day on his face and in his words. Or maybe you're projecting. That's possible.

"Will do. Text me when you get home too, okay?" You reply, steeling your resolve before pulling him in for a hug. Hugs are fine. Safe. At least a safer option than kissing. Seokmin happily returns the gesture and heat that you haven't felt in some time begins to simmer in the very pit of your stomach when you feel how solid he is.

Now is not the time.

"Of course. It was nice getting to finally meet you in person. Hopefully we can see each other again," Oh. The butterflies certainly feel strongly about that.

Untangling yourself from his built frame is unpleasant, and a deeply irrational part of you wants to continue to cling to him. You opt to shove it down. "Hopefully," you respond with a coy smile, "I'd like that." And you truly would.

Seokmin watches you enter your Uber. He watches you until he can no longer see the car, and the gesture brings a smile to your face so wide that it feels a little foreign. If the driver hears your dreamy sigh, they choose not to comment on it. Thoughts of the actor with perhaps the brightest smile you've ever seen in your life fill your mind all the way to your apartment. Seokmin is still occupying your thoughts as you greet the on duty security and enter the, thankfully, empty elevator. More people don't need to see you practically levitating over this man. Over one date.

The smile that's been stinging your cheeks drops from your face when you notice a figure lingering at your front door. You can tell even from this distance that it's Joshua. Your steps grow more hurried, the clinking of your heels echoing through the empty hall. You suppose you're grateful that none of your neighbours are out. You're not entirely sure how this is going to go based on the anger bubbling up inside of you at the sight of your ex-boyfriend.

Joshua turns his head at the sound of your heels and he has the nerve to smile. To look relieved. You beat him to the punch for once instead of allowing the very tentative wall you've meticulously been building since the last time you found yourself in his too cool bed to crumble.

"What're you doing here?"

The bite in your voice takes even you by surprise but, you're too tired and a touch too fed up to really care about potentially offending him. Your arms crossing over your rapidly rising and falling chest as anger courses through your veins.

For all your inability to typically read him, the surprise on his face is clear as day. You don't think you've ever seen him look this unsure, a nervous hand carding through his short, dark hair. Oh. He must have cut it in the time you haven't found yourself on his doorstep.

"Hi uh," he stutters in a way deeply unlike him, "Can we talk inside?"

A voice that sounds very much like Seungkwan screams to send him away. To cuss him out where he stood in your hall and send him back to his sterile apartment that you never quite seemed to fit into.

However, you've never been good at saying no to him.

"Fine," you spit, walking to your front door and unlocking it while he stood by just hovering. Admitly, beneath the frustration and anger and annoyance at seeing him again after what has felt like ages, a miniscule part of you is curious why he's here.

Joshua walks in after you easily. The same way he used to when the two of you were together. The knowledge simultaneously dulls and sharpens the knife that twists in your gut but, you push it aside. Maybe an actual conversation is far overdue so, you can finally be free of him. Your coworker Wonwoo likes to joke that closure is just an invention of fiction but, just maybe this is your chance to find a fraction of it.

He shuts the door behind him while you turn on the lights. You want nothing more than to kick off your heels, pour yourself a glass of wine and regale Soonyoung and Seungkwan with all the details of your night. Joshua sure has a knack for ruining your plans.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" You ask once you've gathered all of courage. Leaning against the back of your couch, waiting for him to explain himself. Ignoring the way your throat burns seeing him in your home again.

"How was your date?" Are not the words you were expecting and they throw you utterly for a loop.

"What?" You blurt out sounding completely flabbergasted, "Is that why you're here? Fucking seriously?" The anger that's been simmer under the surface grows in ferocity once you begin to piece together why he's here. Why he's decided to reinsert himself into your life.

"You're here because you're fucking jealous?"

He has the nerve to look affronted by the assertion, "I'm not jealous-" he starts but, you're beyond frustrated and annoyed right now. Seungkwan would be proud.

"Joshua, please. Then why are you here? Why are you asking about my fucking date? Because you want an update on my life? You haven't reached out to me in fucking months!" You exclaim and you just hope you're not loud enough for any of your neighbours to hear. Though your concerns around that are minimal as the object of your anger walks towards you tentatively.

"I know," he sighs, continuing to run a tired hand through what you assume was his meticulously styled hair, "Honestly, I'm not sure why I'm here. I'm sorry. I just- I just miss you, I think."

Soonyoung has always been fond of calling Joshua an asshole over the course of your relationship and even after its end, but, in this moment, you realise Josh is not just an asshole, he's cruel.

His admission renders you speechless. You probably look comical just staring at him as his words sink into your brain.

'I just- I just miss you.'

He continues on his cruel streak, your carefully constructed walls falling to pieces with every syllable that leaves his full lips, "When you sent me that text, it just felt so awful. I felt awful and I think I realised just how much I missed you. Missed having you around. So I just got in my car and drove here," he breathes out, nearly tripping over his words in a rush to get them out, "I think I'm starting to understand why you came to my place all those months ago," he laughs with very little humour.

You think this is perhaps the most vulnerable you've ever seen him. More than your first date. The first time you told him you loved him. The first time you two slept together. All of those moments could not ever hope to hold a candle to the unadulterated emotions stirring in his doe eyes right now.

"You really suck, you know that?" You respond, the watery quality of your voice not going unnoticed, "Just when I thought I could let you go and move on, you just had to come back and do all of this. Say all of this," you mutter tiredly, shutting your eyes to just have a moment to yourself to think. To breathe.

The press of his forehead against your own is startling but, and you won't ever admit it to anyone else, comforting. It just feels so good to allow yourself to melt into him. The familiar scent of his too expensive cologne infiltrating your senses and muddling your brain further. Your hands grasp the front of his shirt, a shuddering breath leaving your lips.

"I know. I'm sorry," he whispers, and he's just so close, and you remember how easy it was to fall in love with him. How easy it is to continue to fall into him every chance you can.

So you do.

Everything, every voice that sounds like a friend screaming at you that this is a horrible, stupid idea, that you've been doing well, are all silenced when you press your lips to his in a kiss that is more hesitant than anything else. He kisses you back fiercer than you anticipate. Than you're used to from him. Swallowing your startled gasp like it's the first thing he's consumed in days and cupping your face with his large hands. His teeth nip at your bottom lip briefly when a whimper falls from your lips from how aggressive he's being.

"This is my favourite dress of yours," he mutters into your mouth between kisses, the tender way his thumbs brush your face juxtaposing with his desire to seemingly consume you whole, "I've always thought you looked gorgeous in it. So beautiful. Sexy," he continues, one of his hands drifting to palm at the thickest part of your exposed thigh. Arousal pools in the pit of your stomach. The fact that it's been months since you've been with him, been with anyone, fully hitting your body based on how quickly you find yourself becoming wet and your thighs rub against one another.

"My beautiful girl," he whispers, not giving you enough time to process his words before his mouth descends on you again. His hand kneading your thigh in a way that could be considered desperate if this was anyone other than Josh, shoving the material of your dress higher.

Once you remember you can touch him too, your hands find themselves in his now shorter hair, the inky locks filling the gaps between your fingers easily and the groan he presses into your lips worsens the ache you feel at the apex of your thighs. You want him. You don't think you'll ever stop wanting but, seeing him lose his composure for once has your panties sticking to you in a way that grows uncomfortable fast.

"Bedroom," you whisper, maybe part of you is worried that if either of you speak too loudly you'll burst this bubble you've found yourselves in. Josh just nods, tugging you to wobbly feet and pushing you towards your bedroom. His mouth never leaving yours while his hands touch and feel and grope and paw at every part of you they can reach. You try to not think too hard about how this reminds you of the first time he spent the night here and, how easily he seems to remember where your room is.

Fortunately, it doesn't take the two of you long to bump against your bedroom door. Fumbling with it longer than necessary while being lost in each other. A breathless giggle from you fills the quiet space when he curses while struggling to shut it behind him. Your laughter doesn't last long. His lips pressing scorching kisses to your throat as you settle onto your bed. It's like he can't even go a few seconds without touching you somehow. The thoughts prompts your heart to thunder in your chest.

"Can I take this off?" He asks against the hollow of your throat, impatiently tugging on the straps of your dress. You nod quickly, shuddering when he runs his teeth along your pulse and you feel him lightly grinding against your thigh.

"I want you to use your words, baby," baby. He really will be your demise. You can't remember the last time he called you that and, it only further fogs up your mind.

"Yes, Joshie, please," you whimper, your fingernails biting into the muscles of his biceps. The veins on his forearms coupled with the way the muscles flex is just so hot that it feels just the slightest bit unfair. Briefly, you wonder if he wore a short sleeve shirt because he knows how just a little bit stupid his arms make you.

He stills over you. His lidded eyes widening in surprise and, that forces you out of your lust-filled daze. He beats you to it before you can question his change of demeanour.

"You called me Joshie," is all he says in explanation at first, fingers ghosting over your shoulders. The barely there touch causing goosebumps to rise on your skin, "You haven't called me that since we broke up," he finishes and the raw emotion in his eyes renders you unable to respond for a few, long moments.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't-"

"It's okay. More than okay, actually," he cuts you off with a shake of his head, tossling his hair even more, "I didn't realise how much I missed hearing you call me that and Shua until now," he leans down, heavy eyes focusing on your well-kissed lips as his hands begin to slowly undress you, "Please keep calling me by those names."

The control he had slips out of his grasp as his hands tug down the straps of your form-fitting dress. While you'd much rather wind your arms around his broad and solid torso, you concede for these few minutes to help him undress you. Helping him free your arms from your straps before he tugs it off of your body in record time. Between how quickly you find yourself nearly naked and his words, you can't help yourself reaching for him and he happily complies. Nestling himself between your thighs properly while his hands squeeze your breasts over your bra.

"Shua," you whine into his mouth, your hips jolting up to his when you feel him pressed against you. Your hands tug him as close to you as humanly possible. Determined to fuse yourself to him and, based on the way his grip on you grows harsher, he doesn't seem to mind the idea all that much.

"God, I fucking missed you so much," he groans, nuzzling himself into your neck once more. Licking and kissing every millimetre of your skin he can, and every breath hitting you sends you further into madness. You suppose after months of not being touched, even his breath fanning against your skin is enough for goosebumps to rise to your skin and your thighs to clamp around his waist.

"Missed you too, Shua," you sigh, arching into him when his soft lips drift from your throat to sear kisses to the tops of your breasts. His hands reaching behind you to skillfully unclasp your bra and toss it somewhere onto your bedroom floor. Completely forgotten as he takes the opportunity to drink in the sight of your breasts moving with every greedy inhale and shuddering exhale you take.

"God, you're beautiful," he sighs in a way you'd almost describe as dreamy. His irises totally swallowed whole by his dilated pupils. The 'thank you' you intend to respond with is wiped from your mind when he latches onto one of your hardened nipples. His massive hand kneading your other breast to ensure it's not neglected. Your fingers weave into his hair, tugging on it with each tug of his plump lips and lick of tongue. His fingers tugging on your nipple enough to make you gasp from the embers of pain.

"Always so responsive," he chuckles throatily against your skin, pinching your nipple to prove his point. His eyes glinting at the way you moan and grind against his prominent length.

"Stop teasing," you whine, pouting at him. You're taken aback by the way his eyes soften considerably. Leaning up to press a heartbreaking gentle kiss to your more than likely bruised lips while his hand drifts towards your thighs. Swallowing your keens as his stupidly long fingers drag themselves over your panties. Coating them further in your wetness while you attempt to ground yourself by clawing at his broad shoulders.

"I'm sorry," he says and, based on the way he speaks, you're not entirely sure what he what he's apologising for.

His fingers shove your panties to the side and touch your slick folds directly before you're left with your thoughts for too long. "Joshie," you cry into him with every barely there brush of his digits. Your hips bucking into him when they circle your clit before continuing their leisure stroke of you.

"You're so fucking wet already," he groans, returning to your breasts to litter them with much harsher kisses. His fingers shallowly dipping into your entrance but never giving you the satisfaction you so deeply need. "All of this just from some kissing and playing with your tits, baby?" He asks, glancing up at you like you could realistically answer with his long fingers touching you and his breath fanning across your breasts. The amusement in his tone prickling your cheeks in embarrassment, more of your wetness leaking out of you and onto him.

"Or maybe you just get this wet for me." He muses out loud with a grin that's too smug for your liking. "Don't roll your eyes at me like that," he chuckles. However, the lightheartedness of the moment is cut short when he brings the hand that's been toying with your pussy up for you to see.

"I mean, it is true though. Isn't it?" He poses with a glance to gauge your reaction as his fingers spread, your arousal webbing them. You wouldn't be surprised if you were radiating enough heat from your face to rival the sun.

"Shua, that's embarrassing," you whine, avoiding his intense gaze, choosing instead to focus on an imaginary spot over his shoulder.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about, baby," he mutters, resting his slick fingers on your bottom lip and focusing on them fully, "If anything, I'm flattered," he finishes with another arrogant uptick of his lips. It doesn't take much nudging for you to part your lips and for him to push his digits into his mouth. A quiet groan hitting your ears when you hum around them, your tongue licking up the taste of yourself eagerly.

"Fuck," he hisses, his thumb catching the drool that slips past your occupied mouth, "I should let you suck on my fingers more often. You look so pretty with them in your mouth," he mutters, grinding his hips against you as he memorises the sight of you gagging on his fingers and lapping at your essence. "Plus, I know how much you like them. You're not very subtle," he laughs, pulling them from your drooling lips and leaning away from you.

He doesn't give you much time to complain or miss his warmth over you, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of your soiled panties and tugging on them so frantically you're worried that he'll rip them. Luckily, they remain intact and soon join the heap of your clothing strawn all over your bedroom floor.

You don't typically have the presence of mind and time to feel self-conscious when you've been with Joshua. Too preoccupied with shutting your brain off and enjoying whatever time with him he lets you have. However, the way he pauses and his eyes leisurely scan your body now tempts you to hide in your pillows. Your heart trying its utmost to burst out of your chest and your blood roaring in your veins all you can hear.

He doesn't leave you to spiral for much longer. Tugging off his shirt that costs more than you think a plain, blue shirt has any right to. Your walls clench hard when your eyes land on the expanses of muscle, skin and arms that are available for you to fully consume.

"I want you to sit on my face," he says and his words are laden with so much unflinching desire. His eyes reflecting the same emotions and, you didn't think it was plausible for you to get any wetter yet, here you are.

"Shua, you don't have to-"

"I want to," he cuts you off with an air of finality. His gaze holding your own and waiting to see if you'd push this.

"I was such a fucking selfish asshole," he huffs, dragging the hand not covered in your spit down his handsome face, "I'm sorry."

You soften at that. Reaching for his hand and lacing your fingers with his, "It's okay."

"It's not," he argues, squeezing your hand before letting it go and settling beside you, "You deserve better than me, you know."

"I've been told," you respond dryly, trying your utmost to keep the images of your friends out of your mind. Basking in the warmth of his body.

"I'll make it up to you. Every chance I can. I promise I'll make it up to you. So, come here," he says as though his words don't close up your throat and cause your heart to hammer against your chest. When he looks at you like that, how could you ever dream of denying him?

Joshua's eyes never leave yours the entire time you move to settle yourself on his handsome face. The look in his eyes makes you feel like you're being set alight from the inside out, only finding a brief reprieve when his focus shifts from your face to your pussy. Large hands palming your thighs while his eyes drink you in.

"Come here," he commands, pulling you towards him. The strength in his hold causes your walls to flutter but, he doesn't force you. Giving you the chance to settle down on his face at your own pace. It doesn't take you much more prompting to do so. Carefully straddling him to make sure he can still breathe and that you're not smothering him. Joshua, however, doesn't care for your concerns. Firmly pulling you down onto him and latching onto your clit like a man starved. Not allowing you a moment to catch your breath. Long fingers biting into your ass as he guides you along his face.

"Shua," you cry, steadying yourself on your headboard while he continues to eager lap at your clit. Your thighs quiver around his head with every suck and lick he gives you, his hold helping you along his tongue. If you could find the strength to crack open your eyes, you would've noticed him watching you. His cock twitching in his boxers with every shuddering exhale and moan from your bruised lips.

The knot in the pit of your stomach tightens faster than you anticipate. Perhaps it's not being touched by anyone for so long or, perhaps it's simply Joshua that has your orgasm building up so quickly. From the way he groans into your drenched folds and his fingers dig into your so harshly that you wouldn't be surprised to find imprints on your ass later, he doesn't. If anything, your fragile state just motivates him. The vibrations from all of his own sounds of pleasure coupled with his unrelenting tongue made it so you really never stood a chance.

He continues to lap at you through one of your most intense orgasms. The grip you have on your headboard bites into your skin but, you can't bring yourselves to care when your walls spasm continously and your vision darkens around the edges. Overwhelmed tears spilling from you and streaking overheated face.

"Joshie," you whimper, your hips attempting to jolt away from him but, his strength is unrelenting. Keeping you firmly situated on his face while his focus shifts lower. A shudder running down your spine and goosebumps once again prickling your skin when he chooses to lap up your wetness directly from the source. The prods of his tongue and brushes of his nose on your clit make your stomach feels as though its tangled in a series of complicated knots.

The tears continue to fall freely as the overstimulation settles itself into your very bones. Your second release hits you like a runaway train. Your choked moans and cries of his name echoing so prominently throughout your bedroom, you're a little worried your neighbours might hear you. Joshua doesn't seem to care all that much. Cursing into your twitching entrance as more of your wetness seeps out of you and onto his awaiting tongue.

His hold on you eases up significantly after that, and with the near nonexistent energy you have and on still shaking thighs, you move off of him. Gracelessly plopping yourself down next to him in an attempt to regain sensation below your waist and come back from whatever dimension his mouth sent you to.

"Are you okay?"

Cracking a tired eye open to meet his heavy but, slightly concerned eyes proves to be a mistake. His hair is a complete and utter mess. Sticking up in every which direction in a way that just endearing him to you. However, the flush to his cheeks and sheen of your juices on the bottom half of his face quickly diminish any less carnal feelings you felt bubbling up for him. Despite nearly blacking out from how hard you came. Twice. Your body still opts to betray you. Your walls clenching around nothing at his dishevelled state and the outline clear as day in his dress pants.

"Yeah," you manage to croak out, cringing at the scratchy quality of your voice.

"Good," he mutters before kissing you. It's much gentler this time around. His tongue still snaking its way into your mouth and, the taste of yourself on it is enough for you to pull him closer to you. Tugging on his hair with every press of his plush lips and nip on your bottom lip. You're reminded that he's very much still hard and hasn't cum when the weight of him rests against your thigh. Just the idea of his cock pulls a wanton whine from you, which he happily swallows.

"Want you," you pant against him, trying your best not to allow yourself to completely lose yourself in his swirling, brown eyes.

"You have me, baby," he responds with more meaning than your fuzzy brain can process right now. His thumb caressing your cheek while he plants quick but, gentle kisses to your lips.

"No," you say, reaching one of your hands between your bodies and cupping him over his pants. He groans against you, his hips jerking against your hand, "I want you, Joshie," you emphasise with a squeeze of his girthy, long cock.

"I wanted tonight to be about you," the drop in octave of his voice only adds to the fresh wave of wetness leaking out of your pulsing hole. "Well, I want to feel you inside of me. That makes it still about me, doesn't it?"

You would laugh at the strangled 'fuck' that leaves his lips if you weren't at your wit's end right now. His kiss is much more aggressive this time around. Barely giving you any time or room to breathe or think while his hands fumble with the buttons and zipper of his pants. Tugging them and his boxers off at record speed and tossing them unceremoniously to join the mess on your bedroom floor. His lips remain attached to yours the entire time. Determined to make you think of nothing but, him.

You moan into each other when his bare cock drags along your drenched folds. His hips shallowly thrusting along you until he's slick with your wetness and his pre-cum. Every nudge of his fat head on your hypersensitive clit causes your lashes to flutter and your hips to meet him in his shallow movements.

"Shua, please," you whimper out when he drifts to kiss and lick your throat once again. His hips never ceasing their movements while his hands occupy themselves with your breasts. Tugging on your nipples while he nips into every bit of your skin his teeth can reach.

"You drive me fucking crazy," he groans, pulling away from you. He doesn't go too far. Gripping himself in his large hand and watching the way he runs along your slit. Drinking in the way you mewl and arch into him, chasing him for every bit of sensation he offers. "Your pussy's so pretty, baby. You'll look even better with my cock spliting you open, yeah?" He breathes, blown out pupils watching your face when he teases your fluttering entrance.

"Yes, yes, Joshie please. Please, just fuck me. I need it, I need you."

That prompts an especially harsh thrust against you, but he still doesn't sink into you, and you think you may just burst into tears from frustration. You'd forgotten his fondness for teasing and pushing you as close as possible to insanity.

"You really want me to fuck you that badly, baby?" The smirk on his face is equal parts irritating and attractive, "You'll even let me fuck you without a condom? My poor, desperate baby," he coos. Shifting his attention away from your face momentarily to watch the way his length teases your hole, his head just barely pushing into you.

"Fuck," you whimpers, gripping your poor sheets for dear life, "Yes, Joshie. Yes, I want you to fuck me raw. Please please pleas-" you choke on a moan when he slowly starts to sink into you. Your head kicks back and whimpers flow freely from your lips with every centimetre of himself he pushes into you. You probably should have let him stretch you out on his long, thick fingers because it takes you a great deal of adjusting to grow accustomed to his cock. His hands scorch your hips and shake with restraint. Determined to allow you ample room to get used to the feeling of him before he really starts to move.

It's difficult to know who moans the loudest when he's finally fully sheathed inside of you. The last time the two of you had forgone condoms was when you were still dating so, the feeling him completely bare sends your mind and body into a tailspin. Your fingernails digging into his back harder than you mean to but, it's not like you can help it when you can feel his cock molding you around him and kissing the deepest parts of you and, he hasn't even moved yet. Joshua, for his part, isn't fairing much better than you. Panting into the space between your neck and shoulder as he attempts to gather his bearings while your walls sporadically clench and unclench around him. It's a little embarrassing how close he already feels but, when your warm, wet walls cling to him, he doesn't think he can be faulted too much.

"Joshie, you ca-can move," you manage to utter with everything within you. Reaching for him and cupping his beautiful face in your hands. You don't want to examine the look in his eyes too closely right now. You don't think your heart can take it, and you fear you'll cry for an entire reason entirely if you do.

He nods. His first thrust is barely a movement at all, calling it shallow would be generous. However, after what has felt like a lifetime without any friction, that miniscule movement is still enough to set off sparks in the base of your spine and a gasp to be punched straight from your already struggling lungs. "I missed you," he grunts into your neck, the slight pain from where he runs over the bruises forming there with his mouth only causing you to clamp down even more around his thick cock.

"Missed you so fucking much. Only thought about you the whole time," he pants while he picks up his speed significantly, his hands keeping you in place while he sets the pace. Glancing up at you to watch the way your face twists with every drag of himself along your sinful walls and bite of your sensitive neck. "Did you miss me? Did you think of me? Think of this cock, sweetheart?"

"Yes," you cry out, trying to fill your greedy, burning lungs with any air you can while you lose yourself in pleasure, in him, "I only ever thought of you, Shua. Missed y-you so much," you moan because it's true. It was so hard staying away from him. From not running to your car and knocking on his door at concerning hours of the night. And now, as he fucks you to tears on his cock, you wonder why you even stayed away from him. From the look he gives you now that makes you feel like you're burning and, from the way his large hands that splay across your hips, you don't know why you ever thought of never seeing him again.

Your respective sounds of pleasure coupled with the obscene sounds of him thrusting into you ring out throughout your room. Bleary eyes drinking in the way his biceps flex and the sheen of sweat that's built up on his tan skin. Inky hair sticking to his damp forehead as he watches himself sink into you over and over and over again. Catching your lidded gaze and leaning down to kiss you, one of his hands cupping your jaw. Drifting downwards to ghost along your throat but, not applying pressure. Still, the thought itself is enough for you to keen against him and tightening around his cock.

"I love you."

Now that catches you totally off guard. Your eyes widening and your blood roaring in your ears. You blink up at him, your lips parting as your brain tries to process his words.

"Joshie," you sigh, lacing your fingers behind his neck and kissing the corner of his lips, "I love you too. I'll always love you," you whisper, not wanting to scare him away and feeling far too much far too quickly that you don't think you could speak louder even if you wanted to.

"Fuck," he grits out, pressing your thighs against your chest and tugging you into another searing, messy lip lock. It's more teeth and spit than an actual kiss but, you're not complaining. "You're mine, right? That other guy could never make you feel the way I do, right baby?" He groans against your mouth. You weren't expecting him to bring up Seokmin now of all times, while his cock bullies the sensitive parts of your walls and you're pretty sure another orgasm is building.

"Joshie-"

"I want you to say it," he mutters, his hand slotting itself between your sweaty, scorching bodies until his fingers find your clit. Not allowing you a chance to adjust, rubbing quick circles into while he continues to split you open on his cock, "that you're mine. That he'd never make you feel this way. Feel this good."

"I'm y-yours, Joshie," you whimper, his body keeping you in place so you have no choice but to allow yourself to be fucked dumb by him. That all too familiar knot tightening and tightening with every brush and stroke, "I'm yours. Always yours. Only yours," you cry out when he bites down on your neck.

You feel him cum before the warning tumbles out of his mouth. His cock pushed into you as deeply as it'll go and it throbs. It throbs and keeps throbbing with every rope of his cum that fills your waiting walls. Drawn out moans burned into your skin while his fingers clumsy continue to rub into you. It's no surprise then, with his warm cum already beginning to leak out of you, that your third orgasm hits you. This one isn't as intense as the previous two but, it does still causes you to squirm underneath him. Slick walls spasming around his softening cock while your combined orgasms trickle out of you and onto your poor sheets.

"Shua, my thighs hurt," you wheeze, tapping his arm. He mutters a tired 'sorry' before slowly pulling out of you and getting off of you. He does take a long moment to sear the image of his cum dribbling out of you into his mind. Shaking his head, he lies down beside you and tugs you to his broad chest. Cuddling with Joshua joins the litany of activities and behaviours you're not used to from him. However, he's so warm and you're so, so tired. It's just so easy to allow yourself to be lulled to sleep by his heartbeat and his hand playing with your hair. It doesn't take long for him to join you in the land of slumber after your eyes flutter shut.

Seokmin💛: Hey, just wanted to let you know I got home! I really did have a great time. I hope we can go out on another date soon :)

Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

[strwbrryeyes]

tsuki and reader who loves video games :3 whenever reader finds a new game, they always talk about it to tsuki and have him try it with them at least once!! if tsuki likes the game, reader considers it a huge win; although tsuki doesn’t play a lot, if he sees reader playing a game he likes, he’ll sit with them and play for a bit <3

𖦹°｡⋆ Actually not boring (tsukishima x reader)

⟡ cw: no pronouns used i think, fluff, a little cussing, not proofread, lmk if i missed anything.

⟡ a/n: i kind of went off prompt i'm sorry </3 i just could only see tsukishima acting like this asdfghjkl hope you like it anyway but also i'm sorry if its bad im still getting used to writing again! alsosorryhinata-

“What the hell are you doing?” Tsukishima asks as he walks into your shared bedroom to see you at your new light blue and white PC setup. You turn around in your chair to face him with a bright smile on your face.

“I’m playing on Kenma’s new Minecraft smp!” you excitedly say to him as you pull him down to your level to show him how Kenma, Hinata, Kuroo, and Bokuto’s characters are all standing around the spawn area.

“Seems boring,” your boyfriend squints his eyes as he looks at everyone’s skins “what in the world is Bokuto’s avatar? it looks ug-”

“Isn’t handsome?! Just like me!” A loud screech from Bokuto comes through your headphones and cuts off Tsukishima and bursts your eardrum as you forgot to mute your mic and deafen. Tsukishima groans and rolls his eyes before grabbing your mic from your desk to bring it up to his face.

“No but it is ugly like you.” Tsukishima says into the mic causing Bokuto to shout and hit your character as if it was Tsukishima but you punch him back to get him to back off. After that small distraction, you deafen yourself and turn to look back your boyfriend.

“Jeez, thanks babe, now my ears are bleeding,” you glare at him and he scoffs shaking his head, “Why don’t you play with us? I’m sure you’ll have fun!” you change the subject to try to convince Tsukishima to play with the group but all he does is plop on the bed on the otherside of the bedroom.

“Minecraft is boring and childish, we went over this when you tried making me play with you last month.” Tsukishima says in a monotone voice as he scrunches his face.

“But this time it’s mod-”

“Nope, don’t care you can’t convince me.” He cuts you off not even giving you a chance to finish what you were saying making you let out a huff and turn back to your PC.

What you were trying to explain before you were rudely interrupted, was that it was a modded Minecraft server with a bunch of different tech, magic, and animal mods and that you really thought he would enjoy it since some of the mobs that were added to the game were different types of dinosaurs you could tame and ride. You shake it off not caring enough to try to convince him again for now.

After about an hour and a half, you and Tsukishima are still in the same spots as before doing your own thing while talking to each other occasionally. The both of you had ordered dinner since neither of you were really up to cook or go out so Tsukishima had paid for the food so long as you agreed to go down the the apartment complex lobby to pick it up from the delivery driver.

“Babe, food is almost here you can go down to the lobby now.” Tsukishima told you making you groan out of annoyance because you were working on a tech project with Hinata on the server and didn’t want to leave him alone for the fear that Hinata may break something important (he isn’t very good with minecraft mods).

Regardless, you deafened your headset after telling Hinata you would be right back and to not touch anything before standing up from your seat and turned to face your boyfriend “Okay, I’ll go get the food but can you come sit here and make sure Hinata doesn’t touch anything?” you asked Tsukishima with puppydog eyes and a pout that he couldn’t resist so all he did was sigh and sit at your desk like he was told, making you happy and then off you went to get the food.

After you left, Tsukishima didn’t pay much attention to your computer screen since Hinata had told everyone in the game chat that he was going AFK to go to the bathroom and after knowing Hinata after all these years, Tsukishima knew Hinata would be in there for a while so Tsukishima was just scrolling through his phone until he saw movement on your screen in the background. He figured Hinata had come back from the bathroom but it hasn’t even been that long so he took it upon himself to fully look at the screen and what he saw was Bokuto and Kuroo running around what seems to be your base. At first, Tsukishima wasn’t too worried but still kept an eye on them incase they did something stupid because if they did and you came back to something being wrong, you would blame him for not stopping it. Nothing was out of the ordinary until the two avatars came back into frame with a…dinosaur? Tsukishima couldn’t really process what was happening except for the fact that these two bafoons were dragging a large mob that was named ‘Kei’ with a lead and away from your base. Confused and annoyed Tsukishima picked up your headset and undeafend it to hear what Kuroo and Bokuto were saying in proximity chat.

“Bro, they’re going to kill us!” Bokuto sounds worried as he follows Kuroo around.

“They’re AFK she won’t even know it was us, she’ll just think Shoyo did it!” Kuroo quietly shouts as if he didn’t want other people to hear. ‘What an idiot’ Tsukishima thought before unmuting the mic.

“What do you think you dumbasses are doing?” Tsukishima says seriosuly into the mic causing the two to stop dead in their tracks.

“Kuroo made me do it!” Bokuto finally yells into his mic before running away into the distance leaving Kuroo behind.

“Listen, Tsukishima, you don’t have to tell [name],” Kuroo says nervously as he unleads the dinosaur “I’ll just leave it here an-” Kuroo is cut off by Tsukishima running towards him with a sword but is slowed down when he runs out of hunger giving Tsukishima the leverage to kill Kuroo.

Now that those two ‘idiots’ were gone, Tsukishima took it upon himself to inspect the mob that looks like a dinosaur. He smirked at the fact that it was named after him, thinking it was cute and also mounted it with a saddle to he could ride it a bit.

A few more minutes go by and Tsukishima is still playing around with all the mobs you have already found in the short time you have been playing and was (un)surprisngly amused, so amused that he forgot that you weren’t even in the apartment until he heard the door to the bedroom open,

“Sorry I took so long, I had to talk to the front desk about a package that I was supposed to get…” You walk on saying but got quieter when you saw your boyfriend flying in the sky on a dragon. Tsukishima didn’t even want to turn around because then you would see that his face is red from embarrassment so he just kept flying in circles until you forcibly turned the chair around to make him look at you with a smirk plastered on your face. “Whatcha doin there, my love?” You smugly ask him as he struggles to find the words to say.

“I uh- I um stopped Bokuto and Kuroo from stealing your pet!” Was all your flustered boyfriend managed to say. It wasn’t often Tsukishima would get flustered like this but everytime he did, you would soak it in to make sure you never forgot it so naturally, you took a picture. 

The picture snapped him out of his embarrassed state to glare at you but witht hat shit eating grin on your face, he knew he had no choice of redemption so he caved and told you everything that happened with annoyance but excitement in his voice.

“Oh! I also got you this giant wolf looking thing! It was right outside your base and I thought you might want it!” Tsukishima exclaims like a child as you sit ontop of his lap giggling as he showed you things he thought were cool after he was adamant not hearing you out on how he should play on the server too.

“Kei, my love, your PC is right next to mine,” you manage to let out between giggle as you point to Tsukishima’s barely used computer set up that he sometimes used for work and to occasionally play other video games with you “Why don’t you just play with all of us? I’m sure they wouldn’t mind!” you once again ask him to join the server but all he responds with is a sigh and a look that automatically says no.

“They’re going to make fun of me for being a nerd!” Tsukishima ends up pouting not being able to stay seriously annoyed at you for too much longer and all you can let out is a single ‘Ha!’ before kissing his forehead.

“They aren’t going to make fun of you! They’re just as big of nerds as you are! Kenma is literally working with a magic mod while Kuroo is making a rocket to go to the moon with Bokuto while me and Hinata are making an automatic cooking station so we can open our own restaurant!” You explain to Tsukishima, telling him more about the different kinds of mods that are on the server which only intrigues him even more making him agree to play on the server on the condition that you two make another base further away from everyone else so no one could bother him too much which you agreed to.

Before setting up everything Tsukishima needed to download on his own computer, you both travelled a couple thousand blocks and found the perfect biome to start your modded minecraft journey together and moved all of your belongings and pets there so you wouldn’t have to go back and forth. Once everything was moved to your new area, the both of you logged off for the night to go eat your now cold dinner and agreed that you would play more tomorrow night and that you would both learn what each mod does before focusing on one specific mod.

Tsukishima wouldn’t show it, but he was actually extremely excited to play on this server with you and his high school friends since he never really got to see them anymore and wanted an activity to bond over with you. He was happy and he has you to thank.

BONUS:

~Half an hour after you and Tsukishima logged off: Hinata Shoyo’s apartment~

Hinata groans as he leaves the bathroom walking back to his desk, muttering something about how he shouldn’t have eaten that much mac and cheese. 

As he sits back down and exits the menu/paused screen of minecraft Hinata is left speechless as he looks around him and sees that mostly everything that was once there is gone except for a few of his own chests and a few signs that you left behind that read ‘Sorry Shoyo, Tsukishima is making me live with him now’ ‘We can still work on the restaurant but we cant be roommates </3 - [name]’ Hinata sighs as he finishes reading the signs and starts to walk away to go find someone else to hang out with until he sees another sign a few blocks away that says ‘haha loser - tsukishima’ and at that point Hinata just decides to log off.

[cerise-on-top]

Love Languages

What is says in the title. I have no requests right now and I thought now would be a good time to write these, I've been meaning to for over a month now, I think. General fluff, relationship to reader is romantic. GN!reader. Only thing I can think of would be one somewhat dirty joke. But it's literally just Alejandro teaching reader a phrase in Spanish and that's about it.

Price: Acts of Service. He’s been in the military for a while now and, while he may be used to giving orders these days, he remembers the days well where a superior would yell at him to do something. Price is well aware that the chances of survival go up tremendously when everyone is working together as a team, regardless of whether you’ve been given a command to help your pal out or not. It’s almost subconscious, actually. You drop something without you noticing? He’ll pick it up, trailing behind you while carrying it. The dishes need to be done? He’s on it immediately, maybe whistling a song even while he does so. You’re in need of medication? Mans notices when you’re running out before you do and always makes sure to get the prescription and or the meds if he’s able to. And if he can’t then he’ll remind you to pick them up, going with you. As a captain, he’s a busy bee, always filing reports and doing whatnot, so him taking the time out of his day to do something, no matter what, isn’t as small a thing as one might think. It doesn’t even matter how small, repetitive and tedious the task is, he’ll do it just for you. Won’t make a big deal out of it, though, just you noticing he did something for you is more than enough. Give him a kiss in return while thanking him and he’ll be the happiest man alive as well.

Gaz: Words of Affirmation. While it’s hard to pin down one love language for him, he absolutely adores making you feel loved using his words. He can be a cheeky bastard, sassing just about anyone he knows he’ll get away with relatively unharmed, always knowing what to say to make just about any situation go from dreadful to a bit more humorous, for the most part. Gaz does well with words, plus he can also read facial expressions very well. While there might be some guesswork involved from time to time, if you let him, he’ll find the right words fairly quickly. Doesn’t matter if you just want to be told how handsome you look in your new suit, or if you want to be comforted after being let down one too many times. Finding the right time to be silent is also an art, Gaz has mastered it. It comes natural to him, speaking to his loved ones, that is. If he can, he’ll accompany his sweet words with other love languages as well. It’s not uncommon for him to shower you with compliments while twirling you around, giving you a beautiful bracelet, or simply putting his head on your shoulder. This man will hype you up, no matter how insecure you feel. But don’t ever doubt his words, he’s as sincere as it gets with you. If you do then he will make an entire PowerPoint presentation on why you’re as amazing as you are. Has no qualms about holding said presentation either, by the way.

Ghost: Acts of Service. Don’t get me wrong, he loves touching you and getting to touch you, if he could he’d always intertwine his fingers with yours, but he’s not always sure if he should touch you. Would it make you comfortable? Do you even like being touched right now? Sometimes he might be self-indulgent, but it’s not too often. However, performing just about any task for you, he knows that won’t upset you. The trees and hedges need to be cut? You don’t have time to go grocery shopping? Can’t beat this seemingly impossible video game boss? Yeah, he’s got your back. He’s not too shabby at most things in life. Ghost can notice and memorize things very quickly, he’s got enough experience in life to know what to do in most situations plus he loves you dearly, so he’d literally crawl his way to Eden and pick the fruits of the tree of knowledge if you demanded it. If you ask him to do something with you, though, then I can tell you he’s smitten. Loves grocery shopping with you, loves it if you hand him the wrench and hold the flashlight while he repairs something, loves feeding the strays outside your home with you. If you ask him to do something together then he gets the feeling of his affection for you being reciprocated, so never be ashamed to ask him for something. You could literally just ask him for a hug and his heart would soar in the heavens.

Soap: Physical Touch. He grew up with a loving mother who would smother him in hugs whenever she could. He didn’t particularly grow out of that either, he’ll still return any hug his mother gives him to this day. Having grown up in a very physically affectionate household, he took after his family and thus loves touching you in any way he can. Whether it’s ruffling your hair or putting your foreheads together, he just loves being close with his loved ones. Even his friends he’s very touchy feely with. It’s reassuring to him, feeling his loved ones, their warmth, hell, even feeling their pulse is nice. It’s not a given in his line of work, after all. Friend or lover, doesn’t matter, he’ll give you a hug, he’ll cuddle you, he’ll playfight with you. Has a very hard time toning it down and his heart breaks a bit every time someone asks him to not touch them as much, he genuinely can’t help it. When he’s lonely he becomes extra affectionate and isn’t afraid to ask you for some cuddles either, they’re very calming to him. If you return his affection, even if it’s awkward for the both of you, he becomes very happy, almost beaming with joy if you’re not a touchy person normally. Initiate a hug for once and he’ll never want to let you go again. But beware, his hugs are extremely tight. If it wasn’t as embarrassing, I’m sure he’d sleep cuddling something as well. However, it’s not the most manly thing to sleep with a plushie, so he settles for another pillow mostly. Will invite you to take a nap with him, though.

Alejandro: Physical Touch. He’s among the people of his culture who are more tactile. It’s a similar situation to Soap, he learned that from home. While he may not be as prone to being touchy with a friend, unless you’re very close, once you’re lovers he loves nothing more than having his hands on you. Not even in a dirty way, he’s more than content just having his hand on your shoulder too. Will give you massages, lots of kisses and will generally just pull you close to him. Might pick you up and spin you around from time to time as well. He’s a strong lad, so I can assure you, he will be able to pick you up. Not very fond of PDA for privacy reasons, but once you’re home alone, he’ll be all over you. Find a reason to touch him back and he’ll smother you. While he can respect you if you don’t like being touched, he will be sad a bit, but will find alternatives. He’s a very affectionate guy with the ones he loves. For what it’s worth, if you’re not a touchy person and can’t speak Spanish very well, you can say some nonsense and it’ll make him smile every time. Though, beware, he’s not above teaching you things such as “estoy caliente” either. It won’t lead to anything, but he will crack up whenever you say it to Rudy, with the latter being severely disappointed in Alejandro. You trying to speak or learn Spanish shows him that you’re trying to put in effort into learning his culture, which he can appreciate, naturally.

Rodolfo: Quality Time. Much like Ghost, he’ll love you forever if you give him hugs on the regular, maybe a peck on the cheek too if you’re together, but he won’t force anything. It’s ingrained in him that men really shouldn’t be weak, though, ironically, you can see him be just a tad bit softer with lads. A close second for his love language would be gift giving. He earns enough money to buy you something nice from time to time. But other than that, he doesn’t have too much time either, and what little time he does have he wants to spend with you. Sure, he can’t exactly make time for you during a mission, but regardless of how tired he might be, he will drag himself out of bed just to be with you five minutes longer. One activity he particularly enjoys the day after he came home from deployment would be simply taking a nap together. Doesn’t matter if you’re cuddling or not, though he would prefer if you would. He gets to rest, you get to rest, both of you are happy. Besides, whenever he gets to be near you he won’t have to worry about anything happening to you. Considering he’s confident enough in his abilities to keep bad people away from you, he likes having you close as well. You don’t even need to be talking, it could just be the both of you cooking together and eating afterwards, that’s enough to make him content. He can tell when you’re doing your best to make time for him as well, and it warms his heart every time.

Valeria: Gift Giving. She’s the undoubted queen of not having much time for anything at all, and she can’t always make time for you, or most people, either, which is why she’ll opt for other means of showing her affection. While some gifts may take time, those being the special ones, it’s normally something quick she can get you. Some new clothes, some sweets, or something else entirely. She rarely ever gets to give them to you in person, regardless of how badly she wants to see your beaming and surprised face, but she never forgets an important date, her memory is just good like that. Your anniversary, your birthday, your pet’s birthday, she has it all memorized and will get you a gift accordingly. You don’t have to give her anything in return, though, her tastes are very expensive. If you really wanna show her how much you adore her in a way she can easily comprehend, do her some favors. Clean the house, make her a meal, give the soldiers asking for her some misdirections so they won’t catch her. It’s not often she likes someone, much less actually trusting them, but she can appreciate someone, who genuinely wants to help her out, even in the small ways. She might sometimes think that you’re just trying to get a favor out of her, but if you genuinely never ask for anything big even she will doubt her theory and will trust you more. Love goes through the stomach, cook her a delicious meal every once in a while and she’ll love you even more.

Graves: Words of Affirmation. However, it should be noted that that’s just his main way of showing affection, he shows affection in every other way as well, very much so even. It’s hard to pin him down as well, he changes it up every once in a while. But what always stays the same is him giving you small compliments throughout the day. If he can’t tell you how much you’re rocking the garments in person, he’ll leave you a handwritten note to build you up. Very chatty, unlike Gaz, he loves hearing himself speak and will stop at nothing to attain the feeling of just saying something. Considering he’s from the southern part of the United States, he throws around petnames like it’s nothing. If you like it, good, if you don’t, he won’t particularly stop either. In fact, he might get more cheesy and cliche with them as well. Not as eloquent as other people might be, he’s a commander, not a poet, but just as sincere. You look fucking awesome, darlin’. They should make a Met Gala just for you. Will also tease you in a loving way. Bullying his loved ones into blushing is his most genuine way of showing love. Once he teases you, you can be certain this guy really likes you. The formalities are finally over, now he can be genuine and honest with you. Give him strong reactions and he’ll love you even more. Don’t try to fluster him back, though. Conversations like those are competitions and he’s the most sore loser on the planet.

Alex: Physical Touch. Words of Affirmation and Acts of Service are also strong with this one, but I’m limiting myself to one here. As I’ve said a few times already, he loves, loves, loves getting to hug and cuddle you. If you’re together then he has no shame in showing PDA either. Will initiate physical touch, will ask you for physical touch, he’s not ashamed at all. A guy needs what he needs, after all. Even just small touches are more than welcome with him. Hand on your shoulder, his fingers combing through your hair, deliberately leaning against you when he’s tired. Snuggle up to him after a rough day, he’s so gentle with you and will make you feel as loved as he can, either by distracting you with the top ten list of top ten lists of what he loves about you, or by watching a VOD on YouTube with you. Even if you aren’t too touchy, make an effort to initiate physical contact with him, he notices it immediately. Won’t push you, he might stop if you really hate physical contact, but will make it up to you with other love languages. Give him a kiss and he’ll rest his head on your shoulder, with eyes bigger than that of an anime girl. The heart irises are there too, of course. If he’s had a rough day, then please hug him, or better yet, cuddle him. It makes him feel a lot better, drifting off to sleep with your comforting touch. This guy would set a forest ablaze just so you can feel some warmth.

Farah: Quality Time. Unless you’re part of her liberation force, she likely has next to no time for you either. And even then, time alone with her is sparse. You can make plans with her, but chances are she’ll have the revolution on her mind, what her next step should be and how her enemy might prevent her from getting what she wants this time. It’s hard for her too, trust me, but she needs to be prepared, always. It’s not often she actually can do so, but she’ll try to make plans with you without her mind wandering. She’s usually so focused, but also hyper aware of the bad things that could happen. So, sometimes she sits herself down with you and thinks of only the things she wants to do with you. Order takeout, cuddle and maybe read some books as well. Despite not usually being one for things like that, evenings like those will be the only times she’ll try to take better care of herself. By which I mean, if you have a skincare routine, she’ll try it out with you, asking you questions about what this and that might be and what it does. If you have a face mask that evening, she’ll laugh a bit, but won’t be opposed to trying it out either. It’s rather sudden when she does have time, but it’s time well spent. Show her affection in any way, she’ll always appreciate it. Give her a kiss, tell her how much you love her, buy her some fresh baked goods, she’ll fall in love with you all over again, again and again. Once the fighting is done, she’ll repay you with everything she can, give you whatever it is she has to offer and make sure you can feel just as loved.

Laswell: Gift Giving. She’s not particularly one for physical affection, she much rather shows it through things that reminded her of you. That nail polish looked like it would go well with your new outfit, you’ve been eyeing that necklace for a long time, using a scooter to get around the city was something you’ve been into for a while. She always remembers every single small detail that might be important later on. You like Sanrio. You like motorcycles. You like sports. Because her memory is amazing, she’ll always get you something you’ll like. Even when you forgot something or haven’t thought about it in a while, she’ll remind you. Especially nice things. Brains are always biased towards the bad, she wants you to see the good in yourself and your surroundings. But aside from those two things, she’s rather versatile as well. Her words can make even your biggest insecurities temporarily go away. She isn’t always eloquent, but she can be if she wants to be. Quality Time is a given to her. If she can and you want to as well, she’ll spend every minute of her wake with you. Even when you aren’t around to do any of it and she has time to do so, the dishes will be washed, the clothes in the washing machine will be neatly hung up and the living room will be clean. Now, if you want to make her feel loved, give her some genuine words. She hears lies on the daily and knows when people are being insincere, but seeing you give her a genuine smile while telling her that she looks like a goddess in her new dress sort of does something to her. You don’t need to use the prettiest words, just say what you think, tell her how much you love her, that’s all she really needs.

Nikolai: Acts of Service. Another wildcard, he’ll do whatever makes his partner happy. But if we’re talking about his genuine self, the one that doesn’t do whatever makes you happy, then it’s Acts of Service. It’s unprompted too, for the most part. Whatever he can find out, that makes your life easier, he’ll do. He’s a real handyman for all sorts of things and in real good shape too despite his age. Mans can repair a helicopter, he can do the same for your heater in winter. Never be afraid to walk up to him and complain to him about something not working, he’ll fix it himself in record time if you let him. Doesn’t mind his hands getting dirty either, that’s just what happens. Big things, small things, doesn’t matter. Let him take out the trash or let him fix the engine of your car, he can do both. Hell, if you need someone taken care of in the most brutal way possible, if you need some dirt on someone, he’s also your guy. If he really likes you, then chances are he’ll do some of it for free as well. He’s competent enough in just about everything, he has the experience, so whatever it is you need done, he’ll do it. But if you ever were to do him a favor like that as well, he’ll be overjoyed. Most of the time showing affection is subconscious to him, but once it clicks, and it will fairly quickly since he’s a smart cookie, he’ll give you the most loving smile. You don’t have to kill someone for him, just baking him a delicious pie is more than enough. You make his life easier as it is, but the occasional baked good or gifting him a nice bomber jacket won’t hurt either.

König: Acts of Service. I guess Acts of Service just come with age. Not too big on showing physical affection, not the best with his words either since he can still get nervous around his loved ones from time to time. Another big contender would simply be Quality Time. He much prefers not having to talk all the time, so you knitting while he reads the news would be ideal for him. Being near each other in silence is the best thing he can imagine, that way he can show you how much he loves you without straining himself too much. Acts of Service because he’s old enough to realize that if you really do love someone, you’ll make their life easier in any way, shape or form possible, even if it’s just putting chicken nuggets in the oven just before they come home from work. Besides, despite it being tedious, he doesn’t hate cleaning as much as some other people do. It’s calming to him, seeing his living space be decluttered. So, it helps him and it gives you less work to do at the end of the day. Another way he shows affection is by warding off creeps with his presence. Being around you makes him protective over you. Now, you can spend your time with him in silence, or just occasionally talk, he’ll eat that right up and love it, but you can also give him the occasional hug or cuddle. He won’t mind, but don’t overdo it. He’s not a particularly cuddly person, but he will appreciate you standing on boxes just so he can lean into your shoulder for once, if you’re shorter than him. It’s the small things that count. Another thing he’ll always enjoy is you maybe knitting or crocheting him a scarf. He’s not sensitive to the cold, but he won’t mind being warm either. Spray it with your perfume or cologne too and he could just pick you up and give you a little kiss.