#like my bed is sleep time. desk is work time/spend time on computer..

[3416]

My phone distraction tip is just turning it off for a short while. I feel so dumb when I’m trying to do something but pick up my phone, just out of habit or because it’s been five minutes since I’ve looked at it, and nothing happens I’m just looking at a black screen like duh! You then have to make a conscious decision to turn it back on to mess around on it which I usually don’t

i sadly can't turn my phone off in case the old woman i take care of calls in an emergency 😭😭😭 or i so would.. i miss being able to just be away from it without thinking...... crazy to think those things didn't use to exist, like i've pretty much had one since i was 11 or 12 but the addiction is so real

[sunshineyuyu]

stereo hearts (s. mg)

★ summary: mingi’s had a crush on you since his freshman year. you’re a year older than him, infinitely cooler, and you share a love for music. one night, you end up making out in the storage closet of the campus radio station you both work at, and you end up getting closer. ★ pairing: mingi x f!reader ★ genre: smut (mdni!!), college ★ word count: 5.6k ★ tags/warnings: radio station dj!mingi and reader, reader is a year older than mingi, mingi is a computer science major LOL, reader is described as shorter than mingi, alcohol consumption, weed consumption, mentions of nicotine vape, frat party, american college setting, kinda sub-y mingi, kinda dom-y reader, slight dumbification?, reader is just a little mean to mingi, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, penetrative piv sex (with a condom!), minor super background seongjoong ★ notes: this one was written as a gift for @starhwas-bunny huhu, my bestie beta <3 ftr i have never dj-ed for a university radio station so hopefully this isn’t a super inaccurate representation of that experience. ★ masterlist | read on ao3

in the three years since mingi started volunteering as a dj at the university radio station, the little room they broadcast out of has become something like a second home to him.

three out of four of the walls are covered floor to ceiling with shelves that sag from the amount of vinyls, cassette tapes, and cds crammed onto them. tucked into one corner is a mini fridge that was found abandoned after move-out day years ago, and sitting on top is a weak little keurig gifted by the previous faculty sponsor. there’s a musty old leather couch shoved against the singular non-shelved wall, and in the middle of the whole room is the desk, overloaded with several monitors, a keyboard, and the sound board. the whole room smells faintly like sour coffee and old grandpa, but mingi has learned to love it all the same.

tonight, though, mingi would rather be anywhere else than here. grumpily, he blinks at the red numbers of the digital clock on the corner of the desk. 02:13 AM, it reads. he wishes he could go back in time and take a different shift, but the mingi from a month ago never could’ve anticipated all the developments that have happened over the last few weeks.

first, his compilers assignment is kicking his ass. he’s been working tirelessly on it for three weeks now, but his results are still a little off and the due date is fast approaching at the end of the week. he doesn’t even have any classmates to fall back on for help, since he’s taking the course a semester ahead of his other friends, and he hasn’t had enough time to make new ones yet.

second, his best-friend-roommate yunho just got a new girlfriend, which means he’s been spending less time hanging out with mingi. mingi likes to think that he’s not too clingy or needy, but he misses the routine of waking up to the smell of yunho burning breakfast and then getting in a game of valorant together before going to bed. instead, he’s had to play nice with yunho’s new girlfriend whenever she invades their apartment with her neverending peppiness, and sleep with noise-canceling earbuds because he and yunho share a wall.

he’s sleep-deprived and stressed and lonely and really wants a goddamn hug from literally anyone.

but he’s forced to toil away in the tiny campus radio station studio, where the playlist he’d painstakingly arranged last week to blend seamlessly between songs does nothing to soothe his anxieties.

⋆⋆⋆

there’s still half an hour left of mingi’s shift, but he’s already queued up all the music and timed out the ads, so he’s mostly just focused on chipping away at his assignment. the adrenaline from the celsius he crushed when he first arrived is already started to fade, and mingi is seriously thinking about digging out the elfbar from the bottom of his backpack (that he promised yunho he’d throw away) to extend the last fumes of his focus.

this train of thought is thankfully interrupted by the door of the studio being thrown open unceremoniously.

“shit!”

even on a good day, mingi is a jumpy person, and having the blinding light of the hallway enter the dark studio with no warning makes his heart skip several beats. his knee jerks up on instinct, and it whacks painfully against the bottom of the desk.

“ah, oops. sorry!”

standing in the doorway, haloed in fluorescent light, and appearing practically angelic, is none other than you. you have enough wherewithal to at least look apologetic, but mingi doesn’t care either way because it’s you.

you’re a senior—one year above mingi—and the one who trained him to be a dj when he was a freshman. back then, he’d been starstruck by how outgoing you are, the way you’d tease him with the familiarity of a close friend even though you were practically strangers. you have this eclectic but broad taste in music, and he likes that you challenge him to listen to new artists and genres.

and of course—you’re fucking hot. you’ve always been beautiful, with shining eyes and a big wide smile. but over the years, you’ve changed your hair style, dyed the ends, gotten a couple of piercings and tattoos, and it’s been game over for mingi ever since. 

so yeah, he’s had a crippling crush on you that’s only gotten worse with time.

“hi,” mingi says dumbly, massaging his knee where the pain has already mysteriously disappeared.

“hey!” you say breezily, beaming because it’s clear now that he won’t yell at you for scaring him.

“do you have the next shift?” mingi asks, using all his brainpower to compose a coherent sentence. he’s usually able to act relatively normal around you, but he’s all out of sorts right now, and it’s nearly 2:30 fucking am.

“oh, no,” you say. “i just really needed a caffeine fix, and this is the only place i could think of that’s still open on campus for me to get some.”

you both glance over at the sad excuse of a coffee station the studio has, and mingi lets out an undignified snort.

“it is what it is,” you sigh.

while mingi tries to think of a conversation starter, he turns back to his laptop so he’s not just staring at you like some lovesick puppy. 

your normally styled hair is thrown into an afterthought of a bun, but mingi likes that he can see the elegant line of your neck and the line of silver hoops stacked along your ears. you’re also wearing those rimless bayonetta glasses that he loves, and he always gets distracted by the little sparkle charm you added that dangles from the hinge.

“aw man,” you say. “there aren’t any pods left.”

mingi glances up briefly from his laptop to see you pouting down at the little box where they usually keep the coffee pods. 

cute, he thinks.

“hongjoong ordered more last week,” mingi says, waving towards the storage closet behind him. “but he hid them so people don’t try to steal them in bulk.”

at his words, you perk up and scamper towards the closet after dumping your backpack onto the couch.

with you out of sight, some of the nervous tension in mingi’s muscles finally bleeds out. mingi throws his glasses down onto the table and rubs at his weary eyes until he sees fireworks against the backs of his eyelids. he wishes he had even an ounce of the charisma that yunho has, but he’s so fucking tired right now that he can’t think of anything even remotely charming to talk to you about. eventually, he slams his forehead down onto the table and entertains the thought of knocking himself out. before he can let his imagination run too wild, he hears the sound of something heavy falling and a whispered “fuck!”

concerned, mingi straightens and rolls his chair closer to the threshold of the storage closet.

“you good?” he asks.

he forgot to put his glasses back on, so you’re really more of a blurry blob of a person, but somehow your sheepish smile still manages to come through.

“i found the pods!” you say brightly, pointing at a large cardboard box on the top shelf. “but, i can’t reach them.”

mingi huffs out a laugh and stands up. finally, it feels like something is going right for him tonight. you are short and need help, and mingi is tall and can help you.

he’s so hyper-focused on his task that he doesn’t think twice about crowding up behind you. doesn’t think twice about bracing one hand against your back to keep himself steady as he reaches with his other hand for the box. doesn’t think twice about leaning around your smaller frame to present you with the thing. 

“here,” he says, except it comes out breathy and rough because he’s just stretched his body for the first time in what feels like ages.

he doesn’t realize how close your faces are until you utter a soft thank you, and the words ghost along his cheekbone. he shudders at the sensation, and all at once the rest of his brain and body come online to recognize the position you’re arranged in.

it’s cramped in the closet, and mingi’s a big guy. his entire front is pressed up against your back, and the hand he’d used to balance himself has somehow slipped down to your waist, and you’ve turned your head slightly so that you can look up at him.

mingi stares down at you, and you’re seriously so close that he doesn’t need his glasses to see the way your lips part, the way your eyebrows furrow. 

“um,” he says intelligently.

oh-so-slowly, you push your glasses up onto your head and turn around to fully face him. like always, that stupid sparkle charm entrances mingi.

and then suddenly, he’s pulled down by the front of his shirt, and you surge up to meet him. your lips collide together with so much force that your teeth clack, but mingi doesn’t care because jesus fucking christ. he shoves the pods onto the nearest shelf to get his other hand onto your waist too. god, it’s been a while since the last time he’s made out with someone like this. while his mouth works furiously to remember how to kiss well, he fumbles his palms over the curves of your body. meanwhile, your fingers dance confidently along his chest and collarbones, finally curling into the hair at the nape of his neck. when you tug lightly, mingi actually whimpers.

he pulls back, embarrassed, but you look delighted.

“oh,” you breathe, grinning. “oh, fuck—make that noise again.”

mingi stares at you, uncomprehending and breathing like he’s just run a race. you tug again. mingi keens.

“cute,” you murmur. “c’mere.”

you don’t give mingi the chance to second-guess anything as you pull him back down. your chapstick tastes like peaches, and your tongue is doing things that mingi’s never felt before. you touch him everywhere—run your hands along his chest, his stomach, his back, his arms. mingi is putty in your arms, and he stops trying to hold back the sounds that you tease out of him.

you make out sloppily for what seems like hours. it’s so nice and mindless that mingi doesn’t even realize that he’s half-hard in his jeans until you finally take a step back. 

like the fucking touch-starved idiot he is, he unconsciously leans forward to chase after you. in response, you grin and press a single finger against his chest to hold him off.

“it’s almost the next shift,” you say quietly. “we should probably get out of here.”

“oh,” mingi croaks, as reality settles back in. “oh. yeah.”

you peck the underside of his jaw, and then leave the storage closet.

mingi stays for a second longer, collecting himself. finally, he grabs the box of coffee pods and follows you back into the studio.

he can’t get a read on you as you wordlessly retrieve your backpack. he mirrors your movement, albeit more lethargically. he feels like he’s drunk or high or both, body moving sluggishly, and he’s so so confused.

jongho, who’s taking the 3 am shift, shows up in the middle of your silence as a much needed buffer. it takes mingi five minutes to hand over control, and when he’s done, he’s disappointed to see that you aren’t in the room anymore. dejected, he says goodbye to jongho and leaves the studio, only to find you waiting in the hallway.

you look up when he stops in front of you and smile at him.

“walk me to my car?” you say.

mingi smiles shyly back at you. “yeah. okay.”

you start down the hallway, but mingi halts abruptly. “didn’t you- um- your coffee?” mingi stutters. jesus, he really needs to pull himself together.

you quirk your head to one side and then takes a step into mingi’s space. your gaze darkens, and your smile stretches into a smirk.

“nah,” you whisper, reaching to drag your thumb along his bottom lip. “i got my fix.” 

oh, mingi thinks giddily. she means me!

“c’mon,” you say, your face softening and your hand finding mingi’s. “it’s late.”

“yeah,” mingi says dreamily, trailing after you.

⋆⋆⋆

in the days following, mingi doesn’t see you at all.

this isn’t uncommon—you’re different years and majors, after all. but mingi is still bummed about it. he has your number, but he’s never texted you besides to talk about campus radio logistics. sometimes, you’ll send each other a new song or artist to nerd out over, but mingi feels like it’s a little too transparent if he texts you now when the last time you exchanged messages was weeks ago.

every night, though, mingi replays what happened in his head over and over again. how you had been the one to initiate, to guide and control the entire encounter—how that had turned him on in ways he’d never imagined. he tries vainly not to think about you when he jerks off, but right as he’s about to cum, his thoughts always stray to the way you’d tugged at his hair and cooed at his embarrassing noises.

in the aftermath, he’ll try to think instead of the way you held his hand while they walked to your car. the walk had been short but sweet. you’d been the one to intertwine your fingers, and mingi hadn’t been able to hide the stupid smile on his face as your hands swung between the two of you.

you’d given him one last kiss on the cheek before saying good night.

the rest of the night was a haze: walking to his car, driving home, falling asleep the moment his head hit his pillow without even changing out of his clothes.

⋆⋆⋆

it’s friday night, and mingi has managed to finish his godforsaken compilers assignment, so he’s planning on getting wasted.

mingi is still largely undecided on how he feels about yunho’s new girlfriend, but the one thing going in her favor is the fact that she’s the delta gamma social chair and—because of some bylaw somewhere—has automatic entry to every relevant frat party. she can even bring other people with her, as long as it’s not an egregious amount.

and that’s how mingi finds himself in the middle of an SAE party, just the right side of tipsy. he’s nursing a sweating can of beer and watching yunho and wooyoung absolutely destroy a couple of pledges at beer pong. when they win, mingi pounces on them, but ends up empty-handed as they’re each pulled into congratulatory embraces by their respective significant others.

suddenly, despite being surrounded by people, mingi feels incredibly lonely. it’s like he’s been doused in ice water, the way his head clears and his heart sinks. he knows it’s a passing feeling, knows that in two seconds his friends will turn their attention back to him, but the shots and beers from earlier tonight no longer sit right in his bloodstream.

under the guise of getting another drink, mingi ducks away from his friends and looks for someplace with a little more space and air. he wanders towards the yard, where there’s far fewer people. all of the lawn chairs available are already occupied, so mingi leans up against the wall and pulls out his phone. he’s two scrolls into his instagram feed when something collides into his side hard enough to make him let out a soft oof.

he thinks it must be some random drunk, but instead it’s—

you.

“mingi!” you shriek.

your arms wrap around his middle, and you gaze up at him with glazed over eyes. you’re wearing this tight black shirt with a big square neckline, and you’re all squished up against him so mingi gets an eyeful of your cleavage.

he swallows painfully.

“y/n!” he says, trying to match your energy without being as loud.

you peer around him, almost like you’re looking for someone else. “are you here by yourself?” you ask.

“no,” mingi says. “my friends are inside. i just wanted to get some air.”

“ah.” you nod sagely. “do you smoke? like—get high?”

mingi shrugs, and you bounce with glee. you drag him by the wrist over to a small cluster of people sitting around one of the few lawn tables available.

“sit sit sit!” you say, pushing him into the one empty chair before unceremoniously plopping yourself down in his lap. dumbstruck, mingi just sits there with his hands lying limply against the armrests as you shuffle around in his fucking lap to find a comfortable position. every ounce of his energy is going towards not popping a boner right now.

instead, he focuses on trying to recognize the people sitting around the table. there’s kim hongjoong, the president of your campus radio org, and his boyfriend park seonghwa. beside them is chaewon, your best friend, also sitting in the lap of some guy who mingi assumes is her boyfriend.

shit—what are these people assuming about him, then? 

“here,” you say, thrusting a small object like a usb towards his lips. “take a hit of penelope.”

“penelope?” mingi’s like, still reeling from everything that’s happened in the last five minutes.

you giggle. “my pen. here.”

obediently, mingi leans towards and fits his lips around the tiny weed pen. it’s been a while since he last got high—yunho and wooyoung both run cross-country and don’t like messing around with drugs while they’re in season. he tries to take a shallow hit, but doesn’t end up getting anything, so he throws all caution to the wind and inhales deeply. the tangy sour smoke hits the back of his throat harder than the smooth mintyness of his elfbar, so of course—

he ends up coughing.

little puffs of smoke leave his mouth and nose as he splutters. thankfully, everyone barely laughs at him. in fact, hongjoong hands him a bottle of water which he chugs gratefully.

“sorry, been a while,” mingi rasps, when he finally manages to take a normal breath.

you hum and brush some of mingi’s hair behind his ear. “cute.”

this nearly sends mingi into another coughing fit, but he manages to just laugh breathlessly instead. clutching the water bottle to him like a lifeline, he sinks back into his chair so that maybe he can be less in the spotlight.

“—anyway,” chaewon says, and mingi lets out a sigh of relief at the turn of attention, “sannie, tell them about all the shit they made you do when you were a pledge.”

san—the one guy mingi didn’t know—sighs and pinches chaewon’s thigh.

“babe, you can’t just make me tell this story to everyone. trade secrets, and whatever.”

hongjoong snorts. “so they got you pretty good, huh?”

“goddamnit,” san is like.

so san regails them with the harrowing tale of him pledging SAE, and mingi finally lets himself relax. san has this soft, earnest voice, and it’s nice to listen to. at some point, you press penelope into his hand, and even later, mingi works up the courage to take another hit. this one is much more successful than the last, and gradually, mingi works up a nice buzz. it spurs him to tug you deeper into his lap, fit his hands around your waist—jesus, have you always been this small compared to him?

mingi has no idea how long he spends there, vibing with you and your friends. he’s halfway to asleep when suddenly he feels something trail along his jawline. he feels the telltale graze of lips against his skin, and his pulse jumps.

suddenly, he is incredibly awake.

you nose at his neck, leave the lightest of kisses. mingi becomes hyper aware of his surroundings, and finally realizes that conversation’s been dead for a while. chaewon is fully straddling san in his chair, and hongjoong and seonghwa have disappeared.

“you wanna get out of here?” you murmur.

“yeah. yeah.”

⋆⋆⋆

mingi is aware enough to shoot a text off to his group chat with yunho and wooyoung letting them know that he’s going home with someone. he feels an odd rush of validation from the subsequent onslaught of vulgar texts and emojis he gets in response.

your place isn’t far from greek row, so you walk there. once again, you have threaded your fingers together, and mingi is noticing for the first time just how small your hand is compared to his. with your other hand, you scroll through your spotify playlists, trying to find one that “fits the ambiance” of the walk before settling for one titled vaporwave vibes.

mingi is just happy to be involved.

you’re a giggly mess as you stumble-walk-run into your apartment.

“roommate—?” mingi asks, as two of you toe off your shoes, and you turn up the volume of your music.

“chaewon’s shacking up at the SAE house tonight,” you say, grinning. you lean in close to mingi and poke his nose. “so you can be as loud as you wanna be, baby.”

baby?!

you lead mingi to your bedroom, where you spare a few seconds to turn on a lamp that casts the room into a soft pink hue and plug your phone into a speaker. you choose a different playlist—one with soft r&b and lofi.

then, you crawl onto your bed, swaying your hips as you do. mingi just stares at you, suddenly very out of his depth. this feels infinitely different from making out in a storage closet. this is your apartment, your room, your bed.

you’re leaned back against your pillows now, head cocked and eyes half-lidded.

you spread you legs and beckon mingi to come closer.

“c’mon, baby. let’s have some fun, hm?”

like a man possessed, mingi steps forward until he hits the edge of the mattress, and then he falls onto his knees, shuffling forward until he’s hovering between your thighs.

“cute.”

mingi waits for you to make the first move, because that’s what he’s used to, and you do. you hook your hands around his neck and pull him down, presses your lips together chastely. mingi’s eyes flutter close, and he lets instinct take over.

you must be wearing something like lipgloss tonight, because your lips are tackier than last time, and they taste like cherry. mingi’s intoxicated by it. he deepens the kiss, adds some tongue. his hands run along your thighs, your hips, your waist.

you do that thing with his hair again, and he whimpers. he feels you smile. you move his hands over your chest, inviting him to really touch, and he moans involuntarily when he realizes that you’re not wearing a bra under your shirt. 

“take it off,” you breathe, and mingi obeys immediately.

“fuckk,” he whines when he sees your tits. “fuck—you’re so—”

he surges forward and fits his mouth over one of your nipples and sucks. this time, it’s you who moans, and the sense of triumph rushes straight to mingi’s dick. after only a few minutes of worshipping your tits, mingi is already so hard he could cut through glass.

“you, too,” you say, trying to pull off mingi’s shirt. “take this off—take it all off.”

so he strips. first his shirt, then his jeans. he curses as he struggles with the button and the zip—when choosing his outfit earlier, he’d only been thinking about how this pair are a little tight so they make his ass look good. now, he’s straining to get them off without looking like an idiot.

finally, he manages to tug the jeans down to mid-thigh, which means you get a better view of the outline of his cock in his briefs. at least he wore dark underwear so you can’t see the frankly embarrassing wet patch that mingi knows is there. he’s always leaked like a faucet.

"god, i knew you'd be big," you sigh as mingi finishes shucking off his pants ungracefully.

he freezes, feeling a little exposed but also a little bold.

"you- have you thought about me- this before?" he asks.

"of course," you smirk. "big shy boy like you? that's my favorite."

you sit up onto your elbows and reach forward with one hand to cup his bulge. you squeeze, and mingi keens. it takes every drop of mingi's self-control to not cum on the spot. instead he falls onto his forearms and buries his face into your neck.

“fuck,” he squeaks.

you continue to work his dick through his briefs, but with such a light, teasing touch that mingi starts rutting helplessly into your hand to get more friction. it’s been a while since someone else has gotten him off, and the weed is making him so so sensitive.

"wanna- wanna make you feel good," he pants, but he can’t stop grinding down against you like some stupid fucking dog. 

"yeah?” you goad. “you wanna fuck me with your big dumb cock? do you even know how to use that thing?"

mingi whimpers. “yes, yes—please. let me- let me show you. please.”

“okay, big boy,” you whisper into his ear, finally letting him go. “show me.”

mingi doesn’t waste any time after that. he pulls off your pants and your underwear in one go. he’s practically drooling at the sight of your cunt and can’t help himself from running a finger reverently through your folds.

you’re wet.

because of him.

he drops down in front of your pussy and licks a line from your entrance to your clit. you fucking moan. 

“yeah?” you say, all dominant like always but a little breathless. “you gonna prep me first? gonna prep me for your huge dick?”

in response, mingi attaches his mouth to your clit and buries a finger into your hole.

“ah—fuck!”

one finger turns into two into three quickly, as mingi works you open, all while lapping at your clit. he has limited experience with this so he’s not super confident in his ability, but you’re making these high-pitched noises that must mean he’s doing something right. and then you tug at his hair, forcing his head back.

“thought you were gonna fuck me?” you say.

“yes, yeah, sorry.”

mingi has enough wherewithal to ask about condoms and lube, and while he tugs off his underwear, you retrieve the stuff from your nightstand. he’s so keyed up that he fumbles the condom, can’t get a good grip to tear it open, and finally resorts to biting one corner with his teeth to rip off an edge. it works, and he spits out the little piece of foil somewhere onto the bed beside them.

“oh, fuck.” he hears, and it’s the first semblance of a whine from you.

with renewed vigor, mingi rolls the condom onto his dick, hissing at finally getting some stimulation after being hard and untouched for so long.

“c’mon, c’mon,” you say, throwing the lube at him. “hurry up.”

he squeezes some of the lube onto his hand—there’s a light red sheen to it and a faint scent of cherry. feverishly, he thinks the smell of cherries is going to be ruined for him forever as he spreads the lube over the condom.

and then he presses just the tip into your entrance, and already he knows he’s not going to last long. you’re just too warm, too wet, too tight.

“jesus,” he whimpers, as he presses deeper into your cunt. “you’re fucking perfect.”

“fuck,” you groan. “you’re so fucking big.”

“gonna- gonna make you feel good,” mingi promises. “gonna fuck you so good.”

when he’s finally bottomed out, he takes a second. he hopes it looks like he’s just being considerate of his size, but really it’s mostly for himself, to make sure he’s not a one thrust wonder. and then you clench around him.

“fuck!”

it startles him into moving—with a strong grip on your thighs, he thrusts into you with so much force that the bed frame groans. 

“ah- yeah, baby. just like that. fuck, so good. so good, so big—so full. fuck!”

you babble nonsense into his ear, but every syllable fuels mingi’s determination. he snaps his hips against yours until his thighs burn, and then some more. but even in spite of his sheer will, mingi is just a guy finally fucking the girl of his dreams, and so his orgasm sneaks up on him entirely too fast.

“oh, fuck. oh, fuck. i’m sorry, i’m sorry—i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna—”

he collapses onto you as he spills into the condom, his entire body twitching with pleasure from the sensation. seconds later, shame and guilt wash over him. he pulls out and crawls down your body to shove his face into your cunt.

he fingers you while he eats you out again, this time quirking his fingers for your g-spot. he’s delirious and desperate—needs to prove that he’s not just some guy who cums without getting off his partner. needs you to enjoy this as much as he is—needs you to want more.

“yeah, yeah, that’s a good boy,” you praise as he laps at your cunt like it’s his job. “so good, baby boy. so good. yeah, just like that—gonna cum. gonna—”

mingi can’t help himself. he pulls back when you climax so that he can watch. he finger-fucks you through it, but his focus is on the way your face scrunches up with euphoria, the way your back arches off the bed in pleasure.

finally, you shove his hand away.

“‘s too much,” you mumble, burying your face into your pillows.

mingi collapses down beside you, completely spent.

he comes to a few minutes later, when he feels the bed shift as you sit up. he must make some kind of noise, because you duck down close, brush the sweaty hair off of his forehead and kiss his temple.

“shh,” you soothe. “it’s okay. you can rest, baby. i’ll clean us up.”

“wait—let me help,” he slurs, starting to sit up.

“no no,” you coo, pushing him back down. “don’t worry, baby. i got it.”

mingi hums, too tired and spent anyway to argue. it’s nice, for once, to be the one being taken care of. he snuggles contently deeper into the bed.

it smells like sex and sweat, but also something kinda sweet. oh, right—cherries.

he drifts off to sleep soon after.

⋆⋆⋆

the next morning, mingi wakes up disoriented, pleasantly sore, but incredibly well-rested. the weed helped offset the alcohol, and the only grossness he feels is from not showering or brushing his teeth before falling asleep.

the bed is unfortunately empty, but the smell of fresh coffee in the air keeps mingi from spiraling too much about it. he lopes around the room, searching for his clothes. he locates those godforsaken tight jeans (which take him far too much effort to stuff himself back into), but doesn’t manage to find his shirt, so he sheepishly wanders into the kitchen shirtless like a moron.

the mystery of his shirt is solved immediately when he sees that you are wearing it. the hem falls right below your ass, and when you move a certain way, mingi can see the bottoms of your cheeks and the hint of black panties.

jesus, even after having the orgasm of his life last night, he’s still so easy.

“morning!” you chirp, when you notice his presence.

“morning,” mingi rasps. “can i- uh- can i help with anything?”

you pause to shoot him a big smile. “no, don’t worry, baby. just sit down. there’s coffee in that mug over there. milk in the fridge.”

mildly stunned at the revelation that your pet names aren’t exclusive to sexy time, mingi follows your instructions. he retrieves a carton of oat milk from the fridge and adds it to his coffee before hopping on a barstool at the kitchen island. he positively inhales the coffee, which must be some kind of special blend because it’s especially fragrant, and watches you bustle around the kitchen with efficiency.

the two of you settle into a comfortable silence, and it’s strangely intimate—domestic—but mingi doesn’t let that part of his imagination run too wild. for his own sanity, it’s probably best if he just takes whatever this is with you one day at a time.

soon, you slide a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and buttered toast in front of him. you prance into the barstool beside him, nudging it closer so that your knees touch under the countertop.

it smells heavenly, reminds him of weekend breakfasts with his own family, and before he can stop himself, he says,

“thanks, mommy.”

it’s the kind of shithead joke he pulls with yunho and wooyoung often, but with you, it drips with subtext. over the rim of your coffee cup, you raise an eyebrow at him, and he feels his entire face heat up with embarrassment.

“i mean- um—”

“didn’t know you were into that kinda stuff,” you coo. “guess i’ll have to remember that for next time.”

mingi digs into his eggs so that he doesn’t have to look you in the eye while he processes that. next time?!

the rest of breakfast passes uneventfully. you take the reins of the conversation, yapping about your thoughts on chaewon’s frat bro boyfriend. mingi gives all the appropriate reactions at the appropriate times and just basks in the joy of eating a home-cooked breakfast the morning after having sex with his long-time crush.

later, mingi will rinse off your dishes and load them into the dishwasher, and you will return his shirt to him before sending him off with another chaste kiss to the cheek. mingi decides to walk back to his own apartment even though it’s nearly a mile away. but the sun is shining and the birds are chirping and his phone—barely hanging on with 10% battery—buzzes in his pocket with a single text:

y/n l/n has invited you to collaborate on a playlist: mommy issues ;)

[yoonlyhan]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ in which ceo!gojo satoru came to a conclusion that you like him because one: you came to work on valentines day (to see him?) and two: you gave him chocolates (girls give chocolate to their crushes so...).

you were growing old. not that old because you were only pushing your late 20s.

but you were growing old for love.

it doesn't look like it but you had a whole plan for the future. getting married at the age of 26. build a home with a fence and a dog. start to have kids at the age of 28. and living happily ever after with your dear family.

but how old are you now? 29.

you told your self that it's fine. that love should not be rush. having a family should not be in a rush. the right time will come eventually.

but when exactly? you're getting anxious for waiting for that miracle to happen.

it's probably your job that's holding you down, it might have been hindering you to meet your prince charming. but thinking back... there were only a few guys who actually confessed that they like you.

but you didn't like any of them so you rejected all of them.

god, you wished you gave them a second thought. you didn't get the chance to date with someone because you were preparing to enter your professional job. and look where it brought you to?

“no boyfriend,” you palmed your face with your elbows on your desk. “is this karma for rejecting everyone?”

you shake your head. “i'm jealous. they're all gone to celebrate valentines day while i—”

you peek at the bright screen of your computer.

“...stayed for a job.” you groaned.

worst of all, you actually like your job. and you thought it was so nerdy of you to spend valentines day for this job.

“it's fine, i'll get the paycheck for today anyway.” you nod, feeling convinced with that reason.

“mh? oh, you're here?”

you lowered your hands to look at the person on your side. and here you thought there was another employee in the office besides you. turns out it was the ceo, sir gojo.

though he always tells us to just call him gojo because quoted "his father is also sir gojo". the other employees would just shrug it off playfully and continued to call him sir gojo.

you nod at him. “good morning, sir.”

he raised a brow and darted his eyes on the screen of my computer. i followed to look at it as well.

“you're not celebrating valentines? thought i chatted on the group chat that everyone is feel free to have the leave today?”

you nod again. “yes, sir. you also sent a message that if anyone is free for today, they're free to go to work.”

sir gojo:

happy valentines, everyone! since it's the day of hearts, i'll be treating your hearts well and announce that everyone can take a leave from work today!

aren't i the bestest of the best boss all of you have? 😎

everyone can go back to work of the 15th of february. just don't forget to bring chocolates for me!!

but if you want to be miserable, feel free to go to work 😟 you'll get an extra pay for helping out on valentines, though 💰

so choose! chocolates or paychecks 🤑

your peer employers reacted a laughing emoji and some thanks him. you got a feeling that some people took this as a sign to sleep all day and probably not celeberate valentines.

you couldn've done that as well. but you were just gonna be depressed in your bed so instead of that... you got up and went to work.

...when you suddenly feel his eyes on you. you took a peek, not moving your head, to look at him. and his face shows he was actually shock to me being here.

i took my bag and start rummaging for something.

“i did but woah... someone actually came? and it's you, miss y/n?”

“it's all good. i was in the mood for a productive day anyway.”

“don't you have... you know,” he shrugs. “a special someone to spend valentines?”

you mirrored his action. “don't have one. kept wishing on it though.” you let out an airy laugh.

you pulled out a small bag of chocolates and handed it out to sir gojo. he looks at it and his eyes slowly widens.

“happy valentines day, sir gojo.” you smiled politely at him.

his lips parted. “oh shit... do you like me?”

you blinked.

“do you wanna have a date today?" he added.

“i'm sorry, what?”

masterlist ♡

© written by @yoonlyhan. don't plagiarise my content. u will be blocked :x

credits to @anitalenia for the wonderful divider ♡

[itsthestutterforme]

Reacher’s Cranky Girl (Jack Reacher Drabble)

Summary: Reacher finds out that his best girl was having a bad day.

Warnings/Notes: GIF is not mine, all mistakes are my own, reader is black, sneakylink!Reacher, sneakylink!reader, sexual themes (fingering, oral sex, over stimulation, bondage, slapping), MINORS DNI

**

You woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.

You couldn’t fall asleep until two in the morning so you only had five hours of sleep. You stepped in dog shit on the way to your car so you had to go back into your house to change your shoes.

Only for one of the heels to get stuck in a grate and tear off the back so you just settled for some flats.

You spilled your iced coffee on your silk shirt. At least it wasn’t hot because that would have sent you into a different kind of rampage.

When you finally get to work, your boss chewed your ass out because the printer froze in the middle of printing the investment proposal.

An investment proposal he needed for the board meeting this morning, which meant he either had to push the meeting to this afternoon or had to share the proposal digitally.

At this point, you were counting down the days so you can go home and spend the rest of the day rotting in your bed.

“Maybe I can call Reacher over here to help cheer you up,” your sister suggests, sitting in the chair in front of your desk.

“I’m not in the mood for teasing, Y/S/N.” “I’m not teasing you. I’m just saying that-“

“Not even Reacher can bring me out of this, okay? I just want to go home.”

“Y/N,” “I said leave it, Y/S/N.” You grumbled, shifting your attention back to computer.

“Okay, fine.” She says with full intention of calling Reacher anyway.

Your sister walks past the boss who was on the way to your office. He pops his head in the say, “Y/N, I need the updated spreadsheet ASAP.”

“On it,” “You’re still running point on the presentation, right?”

I thought you said I was incompetent.

“Sure thing. Did the board decide on a time tomorrow?” “Eight a.m.,”

“In that case, I’ll be in at seven thirty to prep.” He nods and gives a soft knock on the door before leaving.

Y/S/N closes the door of her office to call Reacher. He gave her his number when he found out the two of you were going to a concert in Philadelphia.

He knew you were the confrontational type and wouldn’t call anyone if you found yourself in trouble.

He wanted the er on the side of caution so he trusted your sister to let him know if anything happens.

Reacher was your sneaky link that wasn’t really that sneaky. He wasn’t easy to miss. He would walk into your place, fuck your face into the pillows, order the two of you some food, fuck your face into the pillows again then leave in the morning.

“Reacher,” he answers. “Hey, Reacher. It’s Y/S/N.”

“Is everything okay?” “Yeah, everything is fine. Um, when are you hanging out with Y/N next?”

“We didn’t really decide on a day this week,” Reacher states, unsure of where this conversation was going.

“Y/S/N, I’m sure you’re a great woman but I only have a thing for your sister and I’m a loyal man so..”

“Wow, that was not on my bingo card. I’m not trying to hit on you, Reacher. I’m asking if you can pick up Y/N from work today. She’s having a rough time.”

“Oh.. how rough are we talking?” “Like she’s about to bite the boss’ head off,”

“Okay, I’ll be there. What should I bring her?” “I trust your judgment, Reacher.”

With that, Y/S/N hung up and sat down at her desk leaving Reacher dumbfounded in Finlay’s living room while Neagley and David played video games.

“What’s with the face?” Finlay asks, handing him a beer. “What should I get a woman when she’s having a bad day?” Reacher asks everything in the room.

Neagley pauses the game and everyone slowly turning to Reacher who opened Google to find out the answer to his question.

He noticed the silence and looked up from his phone to meet their shocked expressions.

“What?” “You have a girlfriend*?” David questions.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he grumbles. “Then why do you care if she’s upset?” David retorts.

“Because it’s a nice thing to do for someone,” “Right, says the guy who breaks peoples faces for a living.” He presses the resume button on game.

**

As soon as the clock hit 5 o’clock, you gathered your things and sped walked out of your office. You practically ran into the stairwell when you heard an office door open.

You didn’t have any more energy to give to that god forsaken company today. You rush down seven floors until you reached the front door, inhaling deeply when the fresh spring air filled your lungs.

You heard someone to your right clearing their throat and immediately rolled your eyes. You were not in the mood to hear anyone’s cheesy pick up lines right now.

“Looks like someone’s cranky,” a familiar voice calls and you looked over to see Reacher leaning against his truck.

“Reacher?” You approached him with a confused expression. “Are you looking to invest something or..?” You trail off.

There was no way he was here for you, right?

“No. I’m not here to invest, peach.” He kicks off his car and closed the gap between you, towering over you in the process.

“Then why are you- I’m going to fucking kill her.” You seeth, turning to walk into the parking lot when Reacher stopped you.

“You want to know what sounds better than killing your sister?” he starts, slowly rubbing the sides of your arms.

Your eyes fluttered closed when his rough hands smoothed over your shoulders, humming in response.

“Some curry and sushi for dinner,”

That does sound really good.

“And my face between your thighs for dessert,”

God, that sounded even better.

“How does that sound, peach?” He questions as he continued rubbing your arms.

“Really good,”

“Good because Y/S/N already took your keys and drove your car home. Hop in.” Reacher suggests, opening the car door to hand you a Dunkin iced coffee.

**

“R-Reacher,” you groaned, twisting away from his eager tongue smoothing between your puffy folds.

He didn’t even wait until you were fully situated. Shutting the door, he took you in his arms and carried you into kitchen.

He set you on the counter and nudged you on your back. You gasped when he tore your pantyhose down your legs and lifted your skirt over your waist.

Pulling your panties to the side, he licks between your folds spearing your tight hole with the tip of his tongue.

“Oh my God,”

Shaking his head, he buries his face deeper in between your legs. He wraps his lips around your clit and sucked harshly on your sensitive nub.

He gathered your slick on his finger tips and sank two fingers into you, expertly thrusting upwards into your gspot causing your body to twitch.

He made it his mission to make you cum quick and hard.

“Mm, fuck.” You rolled your hips to match the thrusts of his fingers when he kitten licks your clit, sending you over the edge.

“I-I, fuck. I’m cumming, Reacher.” “Let it go, peach. Let me taste you.”

Your legs close around his head when your body trembles under the intensity of your orgasm.

A satisfied sigh left your lips when you came down from your high, your limp body was sprawled out on the counter.

He doesn’t slow his fingers and you could feel another orgasm building in your belly. He draws figure eights on your clit with his tongue, causing you to whine.

“Wait, I-“ you push his head away and tried to slide away from him but he pushed against your hand.

“Reacher,” you whimper, twisting your body away and covering your cunt so he would stop long enough for you to breathe.

“Move your hand. I’m not done yet.”

“I need a break,” you breathed out. “Move. Your. Hand. I’m not going to say it again.”

You don’t move fast enough for him and he threw you over your shoulder, smacking your ass hard as punishment. He didn’t care that you yelped out at the sharp sting.

Dropping you on the bed, he stripped down to his boxers.

“Strip,” he commands and you pulled off your clothes in record time.

You pressed your legs together when he approaches the bed when he pulls you closer by your ankles and flipped you on your stomach.

He placed a hand in between your shoulder blades to keep you in place. He straddled your legs and pulled your arms outstretched before tying your hands to the bed post with his belt.

Oh, you were in some deep shit now.

Moaning when you feel his hard cock against your ass cheek, he took your face into his hand and made you look straight back at him.

“You misunderstand, peach. The dinner was for you. The dessert was for me. I’m not going to stop until you’re crying and brainless.”

[bettelaboure]

Can we have a fic of g dragon x reader showering together? (Fluff with a hint of spice maybe 👀) I absolutely love flirty g dragon especially how you wrote him in your recent fic and GODDAMN IM HOOKED-

⊹ After hours ⊹ | Kwon Ji-yong

⊹ Pairing: Kwon Ji-yong x Reader ⊹ Warnings: explicit language, sexual content, mutual teasing ⊹ Summary: after a long, exhausting day at work, all you crave is the comfort of Ji-yong’s presence. But when he sends you a teasing picture from dance practice, the heat between you builds, leading to an intimate reunion that neither of you can resist. ⊹ Authors note: It might be more spicy than fluff, but I hope you'll like it ����

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The tension in your body lingers even as you step out of the office, muscles tight with the weight of the day. Your job as a marketing analyst had drained you, endless reports, back-to-back meetings, and last-minute client demands leaving you mentally exhausted. You had barely touched your lunch, your only break being a few stolen moments to check your phone between tasks.

The office buzzed with its usual chaos—phones ringing, keyboards clacking, muffled voices discussing deadlines. Your coworker, Mina, peeked over the divider between your desks and smirked.

“Long day?” she asked, sipping her coffee.

“You have no idea,” you sighed, rubbing your temples.

“You’ve been smiling at your phone a lot. Ji-yong again?”

You nodded, unable to hide your grin.

“Must be nice having a sexy boyfriend who can dance,” she teased. “Is he finally taking you to one of his rehearsals?”

You rolled your eyes. “He’s always busy, and when he’s not, he’s too tired to do anything except sleep.”

Mina waggled her eyebrows. “I doubt that’s all he does when he’s with you.”

Heat crawled up your neck. “Mina!”

She laughed and leaned back in her chair. “I’m just saying, if I had a man like that, I wouldn’t let him out of bed.”

You swatted at her with a paper folder, shaking your head as your phone buzzed again.

11:47 AM Ji-yong: "Don’t forget to eat, baby. I know how you get when you’re busy."

12:02 PM You: "I’ll try. You too, okay? How’s practice?"

12:15 PM Ji-yong: "Exhausting. The choreographer is making us run the choreo until we drop. But I’d rather be dropping into bed with you."

You had smiled at that, cheeks warming despite your tiredness.

Later that afternoon, you had stepped into the break room for a coffee refill when Mina was gossiping with another coworker, Jisoo.

“You wouldn’t believe it,” Jisoo said. “That client from yesterday? Total nightmare. Had us redoing the entire campaign visuals. I swear I almost quit.”

Mina groaned. “This is why I stick to the research department.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you poured coffee into your mug. “I think we all deserve raises after this week.”

Jisoo smirked. “Or at least a boyfriend who spoils us.”

Mina nudged you playfully. “Lucky girl over here already has one.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your amusement.

At the same time, Ji-yong was pushing through his own day, spending long hours at the dance studio. His bandmates teased him relentlessly every time they caught him checking his phone.

“Man, Ji-yong’s whipped,” Seung-Hyun joked, throwing a towel at him. “She’s got you acting soft.”

Ji-yong just smirked. “You’re just jealous.”

“Maybe,” Seung-Hyun admitted. “If I had someone blowing up my phone like that, I’d be smiling too.”

His phone buzzed again.

3:37 PM You: "How’s my favorite dancer doing?"

3:45 PM Ji-yong: "Sweaty. Sore. Thinking about you sitting at your desk, all proper and serious. Wish I could mess you up a little."

That message had made your thighs press together, a tiny thrill coursing through you.

By the time you shut down your computer for the day, another message had come in.

6:28 PM Ji-yong: "I’ll be home late. Try not to miss me too much.*"

Attached was a picture of him in the dance studio, sweat-slicked skin glowing under dim lighting, shirt off, toned abs and lean muscles fully on display. His sweatpants hung low, teasingly so, the band of his briefs peeking out. He knew exactly what he was doing. The smirk on his lips was undeniable, cocky, sinful.

The entire drive home, your mind wandered where it shouldn’t. You imagined what it would be like to have him right there, to take him against the studio mirrors, his breath hot in your ear, his hands greedy on your hips. You squeezed your thighs together at the thought, feeling heat coil deep in your stomach.

By the time you made it home, the apartment was quiet, still. The air was thick with anticipation, the kind only he could stir inside you. You discarded your bag, toeing off your shoes before heading straight for the bathroom, desperate to shake off the day and—hopefully—the ache that had settled between your legs.

Steam curled around you as you stepped into the shower, hot water cascading over your skin, easing some of the tension in your shoulders. But it wasn’t enough. Not when the image of Ji-yong, sweat-drenched and breathless, still played in your mind. Your fingers twitched at your sides before you reached for the showerhead, biting your lip as you adjusted the water pressure.

Heat bloomed across your skin as the water pulsed against you, each wave of pleasure making you shudder. Your head fell back against the tiled wall, breath quickening, soft whimpers lost beneath the sound of rushing water. Your free hand trailed down your stomach, teasing your own skin, your body already responding to the fantasy playing out in your head.

You imagined his hands on you instead, strong fingers gripping your hips, his lips tracing fire along your neck. Your thighs trembled as you moved the water in slow, deliberate circles, your breath catching in your throat.

You didn’t hear the door creak open. Didn’t hear the shuffle of footsteps. But you felt the shift in the air, the unmistakable presence of someone watching.

“Enjoying yourself, baby?”

Your eyes shot open, heart leaping to your throat. Ji-yong stood there, leaning against the doorframe, still dressed in his sweats and hoodie, hood pulled back to reveal tousled hair and a knowing smirk. His gaze roamed over your bare, dripping form, dark eyes filled with something dangerous, something that made your stomach clench.

“J-Ji-yong—” You scrambled to turn the showerhead away, to cover yourself, but he was already stepping inside, fully clothed, uncaring of the water soaking into his clothes.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement. “I like watching you fall apart.”

Your skin burned under his gaze, embarrassment and arousal tangling together. “I-I wasn’t—”

“You weren’t?” He tilted his head, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Didn’t look like that to me.” His fingers traced along your jaw, tilting your face up. “Were you thinking about me?”

Your lips parted, but the words caught in your throat. He chuckled, low and knowing. “You were, weren’t you? Thinking about me while you touched yourself?”

Your breath hitched. His hand slid down, ghosting over your collarbone, your chest, before resting on your waist, pulling you against his soaked clothes.

“You’re trembling,” he whispered, lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Are you that needy for me, baby?”

A soft whimper escaped your lips before you could stop it. His grip tightened.

“Tell me.”

You swallowed hard. “Y-Yes.”

His lips crashed against yours, demanding, searing. The taste of him—sweat, mint, something inherently Ji-yong—flooded your senses. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, coaxing them apart, deepening the kiss until you were gasping against him.

His hands roamed lower, gripping your hips before sliding around to cup your ass, pulling you flush against him. The hard press of his arousal against your stomach sent a fresh wave of heat through you. His fingers trailed lower, teasing the sensitive skin between your thighs. He exhaled a soft curse, lips brushing over your jaw.

“You’re already so wet for me,” he murmured, fingertips tracing along your inner thigh before pressing against you in a slow, torturous rhythm. Your breath hitched, your hands gripping his shoulders, unsure if you wanted to pull him closer or steady yourself.

“Let me take care of you,” he whispered, voice thick with hunger. His fingers moved in teasing circles, coaxing pleasure from you in slow, deliberate strokes, his other hand steadying your trembling body against the slick tiles. Every touch sent sparks of heat through you, drawing out gasps and desperate little whimpers that only seemed to fuel him more.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” His voice was a husky rasp against your ear, each word accompanied by a deliberate movement that left you arching into him, chasing the pleasure only he could give.

The shower wasn’t where it ended.

He carried you out, water still dripping from both of you, but neither of you cared. He laid you down on the bed, taking his time, exploring every inch of you with lips and tongue, drawing out every sound, every shuddering breath. His hands were both rough and gentle, teasing and possessive, pushing you to the edge only to pull you back, drawing out your pleasure until you were a trembling mess beneath him.

When he finally pushed into you, the sensation was overwhelming—deep, slow, intense. His fingers laced with yours, pinning them above your head, his breath coming in uneven gasps as he set an agonizing rhythm that sent you spiraling.

Every thrust, every whispered word unraveled you further, pulling you closer to the edge. The way he moved, the way he worshiped your body, left you utterly undone beneath him.

When release finally crashed over you, it was with a shattering force, leaving you breathless, trembling in his arms. He followed moments after, a deep groan spilling from his lips as he buried his face in your neck, holding you close.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, bodies tangled, breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath. Then, he pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his voice hoarse but tender.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, running his fingers through your damp hair. “And I’m never letting you forget that.”

And as you curled into him, exhaustion pulling at your limbs, you knew that no matter how long the day had been, there was nowhere else you would rather be.

The next morning, you woke up to the scent of coffee and the warmth of Ji-yong’s arms still wrapped around you. He nuzzled into your neck, voice husky. “Morning, baby.”

You turned to face him, smiling sleepily. “You made coffee?”

He nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Had to make sure my girl starts her day right.”

You sighed contentedly, curling closer into him. Maybe today wouldn’t be so exhausting after all.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Taglist: @redhoodedtoad @sherrayyyyy @mirahyun

[kykyonthemoon]

Schedules

Zayne has a habit of planning everything, including your schedules. Yet that makes many believe he's too controlling of his beloved.

୨ৎ. Zayne x Reader (MC)

୨ৎ. Tags: fluff, slice of life, no y/n as always.

୨ৎ. Word count: 737

୨ৎ. Requested anonymously.

୨ৎ. Masterlist ♡ Request a fic (read more for current status)

Doctor Zayne had been sitting in front of the computer screen for nearly half an hour, his hands propped up on the desk and half his face hidden behind them. His intense concentration, even after his shift had ended, had startled Doctor Greyson when he entered the room.

“You’re right on time, Greyson. I need you to take a look at something.”

Doctor Zayne’s sudden words made Greyson feel a little uneasy. He instantly went over his recent work in his head to figure out where the problem might be. Instead, Zayne showed him a timetable filled with his own notes.

“Yes… Doctor Zayne? What is it?” Greyson asked. “This doesn’t look like your schedule, does it?”

“It’s hers,” Zayne replied. “I’m adjusting our schedules. She saw the message over thirty minutes ago and hasn’t responded yet.”

“Maybe she hasn't read it yet? After all, it's lunchtime,” Greyson replied.

Doctor Zayne checked his watch, then continued, “She should have gone to her usual lunch spot by now. Why hasn’t she replied to my text yet? Do you think I should recalculate her travel time?”

Greyson looked over Zayne's schedules on his screen for a long time. 6 AM: Wake up and workout… 12 PM: Lunch… 11PM: Bed time… Her schedule was written in pink, while Doctor Zayne’s was in blue. There were several additional notes as well. Despite Doctor Zayne's reputation for time management, Greyson saw that managing his girlfriend’s time in this manner was something to worry about.

“Can I tell you something, Doctor Zayne? You seem a little… controlling.” 

Zayne cast a quick glance toward Greyson. He added, "You even plan what she eats, where she goes, and what she does at what times. I  absolutely respect your ability to plan things out! But excessive control in a relationship? That’s not good..."

*

* *

Zayne picked you up promptly after your shift ended, always on time as if he was never late. He said nothing the entire way home, while you simply shared with him your day.

The drive ended in front of your house. But when you opened your phone to check your schedule for tomorrow, you were surprised.

“Doctor Zayne, where did your notes go?”

You turned to look at Zayne; his face was not very expressive, but you could see the slight waves in his eyes.

"I erased them."

“Huh? Why did you do that? I saw your text at noon. But my phone died. That’s why I couldn’t read it right away…”

Your fingers moved across the phone screen. Even though you both had only recently become boyfriend and girlfriend, you entrusted all the date planning to Zayne. He even helped you alter your schedules so that the two of you could spend more time together.

"Recently, I may have been too controlling of you," Zayne said. His grip on the wheel tightened subconsciously, as if he was suppressing his emotions. "So I thought it would be best to ask you before making any adjustment to your schedules first."

Your astonished eyes shifted from the phone to Zayne. Sometimes, it did feel like he was taking care of you like a baby, from your sleep to your balanced diet. Of course, at first, you were not used to it, as if you had lost some of your freedom. But you knew that Zayne always wanted the best for both of you, so you didn't mind relying on him a bit more. That was why you decided to have him as your personal planner in the first place.

After a minute of thought, you turned to Zayne and said: 

“Actually, you're always excellent at planning. But once in a while, I'd like to do things on a whim. It would be great if we could balance both, right?”

Hearing you say that, Zayne relaxed somewhat. He remembered the conversation he had with Greyson at the hospital. That man even portrayed a situation in which you were a puppet running away from Zayne’s strings. And he had been thinking about it the entire way home. Fortunately, your reaction revealed that he was not the control freak that Greyson had depicted.

Zayne was relieved. He put his hand on your head and softly caressed your hair. He then proceeded to give your cheek a gentle squeeze. 

“Well, you do have fascinating ideas, I must admit. So from now on, let’s plan things together. Is that good?"

[the-froschamethyst4]

Kill me, Love me, F*ck, me

𖤐Pairing: DEA! Alejandro x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐AN: I’ve been getting edits of Pedro Pascal when he played Javier Peña in Netflix Narcos and now I wanted Alejandro to be working for DEA (Drug Enforcement Administration) I think it’ll be hot

𖤐Warnings: smut, NSFW, language, P in V, eating out, dirty talking, rough and make up sex, badly translated Spanish, married couple, kissing, couple arguing,

𖤐Summary: What happens when Alejandro and comes home late (almost every night now) and Y/n gets upset to where she almost kills him

————

————

9:00PM

It's been 3 weeks, 3 weeks and all Alejandro wants to do is catch this bastard selling illegal drugs, every time they get a lead the trail ends and they are stuck in a dead-end.

Since those 3 weeks, Alejandro has been coming home late, or if he does come home he spends most of his time sleeping in his office or staying up all night in his office.

He's stressed and just wants to catch this guy. That's all he wants and then he'll go back to normal, sleeping next to his wife at night, fucking her, or just cuddling her and kissing her.

"Alejandro," one of his teammates came into the DEA office plopping a file on his desk.

"What's this?"

"A lead."

"Great, another one, that when I take will be another fucking dead-end, you know the last time I took one of your leads, my suspect was fucking dead? I don't have time for this-"

"Just check it."

"...Fine, if it turns out my suspect is dead again, I coming for you," Alejandro got out of his chair and took the file to flip through it.

"Hey what will you do when we catch this guy?"

"Go home to my wife."

"Are you...not going home to her at night?"

"I am...but everything is so dual at home, that it feels like I live alone again," he says. "Durango, Mexico?"

"Yes. That's where he was last seen."

"We can leave tomorrow morning...I have more work to do tonight...and I have to get home to the missus later tonight."

"Of course."

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

Y/n was in the kitchen fixing herself something to eat, after making herself a plate and sitting at the table by herself, she looks at the empty spot across from her, the spot where Alejandro would have sat.

For 3 weeks now, she's been eating by herself, fixing a plate for Alejandro to eat once he gets home.

She hated this feeling of being alone. For 3 weeks, he comes home late, but he usually sits in his office and falls asleep, she doesn't remember when the last time Alejandro was asleep in bed.

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

11:00PM

Alejandro sat at his desk, hands covering his face, stressed, he just wants to catch this guy. But he needs to go home, his wife needs him right now. He shuts his computer off, and grabs his coat off the back of his chair and his keys from his desk and heads to his car.

Once in his car and drives home, his mind just rushes with he needs to go to his home office and do more research...sleep can wait right now.

Getting to the driveway, he unlocks his front door and sees the kitchen light was still on along with the TV still on. He sets his keys down and takes his coat off, he goes to the living room and looks over the couch to see his wife.

"Mi amor (my love)?" Y/n's eyes were wide and still watching whatever show she was watching.

"You're late...like usual," she mumbles the last bit.

"I'm sorry, amor (love) but I have so much work," he takes his finger and caresses her cheek, but she pushes his hand away.

"Is work important?"

"Right now, it is, when I catch this guy, I'll spend so much time with you," he says. "I promise-"

"Currently your promises have been broken, I don't trust you right now, Alejandro."

"You don't trust me?" He was offended.

Y/n then sits up. "You promised you'd stop coming home late, it's almost midnight, you promised you'd take me on a nice dinner date the other day, but you canceled because of this...guy, you promised that you-"

"Okay, okay, my track record isn't good right now, but amor, I promise I will-"

"No, I'm done with the false promises, I don't think you will promise me anything and stick with it, I don't care," she then goes to the kitchen.

"Mi amor-"

"Don't, I don't wanna hear it right now, just go to your fucking office, and stay there, you'll go there anyways!"

"No, I won't go till we talk-"

"Talk!? Are you kidding! I can't, I don't see you half of the time!" As she grabs a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water, she chugs half of it as Alejandro was talking to her.

"My work is currently coming first, yes, but when it's done all of my attention will be going to you, you know that!" Y/n's hand gripped the glass and without thinking she throws it at Alejandro's feet, shattering into a million little pieces.

"Shit!" Y/n curses, hands covering her mouth. She's never been that mad to where she throws something at him, but she has every right to be pissed right now.

"Alejandro, I'm so sorry, I-I-"

Alejandro was looking down at the glass, Y/n got the small brush and dust pan. She was sniffling, she was upset. Alejandro bends down grabbing her wrist and took the brush and dust pan from her hands.

"Alejandro?"

"You trying to kill me?" He says, looking at her wedding ring sitting on her finger, a lot of money in that diamond ring.

"I d-didn't mean to," she sniffles. Alejandro had reached into his belt and pulls out something metal.

Cuffs.

"Ale-hey," he smacks the cuffs on her left wrists and moves her to the ground and grabbed her right arm. "S-Stop!" And cuffs her, keeping her to the ground, his right hand holding her down.

"Calm down, amor, you're not going to jail," he chuckles. Tears streamed down her cheeks and Alejandro couldn't help but find this so pathetic of his wife.

"You know how fucking pathetic you look?" He chuckles. She whimpers and looks at her husband.

"Then why am I in cuffs, Alejandro?"

"Just cause," he smirks unbuttoning his shirt and messing with his belt holding up his pants. He then picks her up off the ground and takes her to the couch, plopping her on her back and starts pulling her shorts off and admiring the slight wet spot in her panties.

"You're wet? This turned you on, baby?" She just hides her face from him, he grabs her chin and makes her looks at him.

"Are you wet?" He teased.

"My arms hurt," she whines.

"Cuffs, aren't meant to be comfortable," he says.

"Then take them off," she sniffles.

He just removes his shirt showing off his toned abs and chest, then his pants being undone, she looks at the bulge in his pants. He moves her legs to her chest, he leans down and kissed her lips.

His left hand then messaging her wet clit through her panties. She moans into the kiss, he stood up and looked at Y/n's red, and teared up face.

He smirks and starts pulling off her panties, seeing her bare pussy to him, he licks his lips like a hungry predator. He kissed her calves and go to her inner thighs. He licks between her already wet folds.

"F-Fuck," she whimpers. Y/n looks down at Alejandro who was between her thighs. Her foot on his shoulder slightly pushing at him but he doesn't budge. He laps at the pre-cum leaking from her.

"Mmm," she hums.

"You look so good like this," he says, pushing her legs back to her chest, and he starts pulling his pants down kicking them to the side along with his boxers. He pumps a few times to get himself hard before pushing himself into Y/n.

"Look at this cute body taking me so well," he smirks. "Folding, and sucking me in," he chuckles.

He then smacks her thigh earning a soft moan.

"Now, I may be breaking promise, but you know one promise I've kept?" He looks at her for almost like a response but she's too cock drunk to even say anything. "I'd fuck you till your legs start to shake," he smirks while leaning down and kissing Y/n's lips.

She moans into the kiss as his tip was hitting her spot, her head goes back breaking the kiss, Alejandro grabs the back of her head to make her kiss him again.

"You do not get to pull away from me," he growls. He thrusts were more rough, skin slapping against one another. She couldn't think right now, only thing on her mind was 'who the fuck is going to clean up the glass?' Not really though.

Her head goes back once more, he down and bites at her thigh earning a moan and her fingers going through his soft dark brown hair. Her eyes trained to be on him, and only him right now.

"I feel you tightening," he teased. "Are you about to cum?" He says lifting an eyebrow while he just keeps teasing his wife.

He starts picking up the pace now. Her walls clenching around him and a few more hard and rough thrusts.

"Come on, amor," he smirks. Harder thrusts now.

"F-Fuck," she moans and then she could feel cum leaking from her. Alejandro gives more harder thrusts and then a final moan from Y/n and then white liquid spills from her.

Pulling out, Alejandro watches as she moans and she pushes out the cum. He smirks before licking up her juices.

"Fucking hell," he mumbles, he looks at Y/n who was panting, her arms still cuffed behind her back, she was rolled onto her side, shaking a bit. Alejandro grabbed the key from his pants and unlocks the cuffs.

"Sorry about that, baby, but I know it's the only way to get you to listen," he smirks.

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

1:56AM

Sitting in the bath, Y/n leaned back into the hot water, it was now close to 2 in the morning, and sleep wasn't in Y/n's or Alejandro's mind anymore.

Alejandro came into the bathroom and drained the tub helping Y/n out, and wrapped her body in a towel. He kissed her neck and gave a soft tap on her butt.

"Come on, I made your favorite tea, and found a movie we can relax and watch."

"I'm sorry, for throwing the cup." She apologized.

"It's fine, amor-"

"No, it's not. I could have hurt you if it hit you-"

"And you didn't." He smirks.

"That's not the point...I've never done that and you scared me when you placed the cuffs on me," Alejandro just laughs.

"Amor, I would never put you in cuffs for anything-"

"Not even if I was...smuggling drugs?"

"Are you?" He looks at her with a lifted eyebrow.

"No."

"Then no...I'll do my best to make sure the cuffs don't go on you."

"What if...someone finds out it is me?"

"I can talk..."

"Talk?"

"Say you have nothing to do with this, find ways to get you free."

"That's so fucked up-"

"But I'd do it."

"I don't want you to, if I did something bad and I knew it, the cuffs deserve to be on my wrists."

"Amor you're worrying me a bit-"

"I'm not working with that man! You know that."

"I know, but I'm just saying-"

"I'm not doing anything illegal." She says, letting out a huff and sitting on the bed as Alejandro brought her, her pajamas.

"I do have to tell you that...in a few I will have to leave for Durango."

"Durango? Did you get a lead?"

"Yeah...I'll be gone for a while...but when I come back," he smirks and leans down to be face-to-face with her. "We can have so much se-"

"Okay, okay, I get it," she giggles.

"And that's a promise..."

"It won't be broken will it?"

"Never."

[masonmontz]

heyy, how are you? :) so, since it's father's day here in brazil, i decided to do something cute for this special day

REMEMBER: english is not my first language

fluff word count: 2k

this is a bonus of pinky promise with mason and olivia, you can read it separately if you want.

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

“But am I your favorite? You need to tell me.” Olivia asked Mason. You were working and they were watching Barbie and the Three Musketeers for the second time, as Olivia had become obsessed with the movie, but now she started to get bored and started asking Mason random questions.

“Yes, you are my favorite, you know that.” Mason was paying attention to the movie, unlike Olivia. 

“But you have other nieces, you swear to me that I am your favorite?” She stood up from the mattress they had placed on the living room floor, then looked at Mason with her hands on her hips and a serious expression on her face.

“I swear to you, pumpkin.” You smiled to yourself watching the two interact.

It had been three months since you and Mason had been together, and just like his promise, you were happy, but most importantly, Olivia was happy, and that was enough. It took you a while to tell her that you were dating Uncle Mason, but trips to Manchester were frequent or Mason would show up in London and sleep at your house even if he has to leave the next morning.

“Don't be jealous, Summer is your friend and Mason is her uncle.” You said, still paying attention to the computer in front of you. Olivia left Mason and went to you, holding your neck in a hug while he was still watching the movie. 

“I know, mum, but I like Mase and I want him to like me too.” She whispered, so you laughed.

“He loves you, Olivia, you know that.” You squeezed her cheek, leaving a kiss on her nose, which was a little red from the cold. Ever since you and Mason told her you were together, she stopped calling him "Uncle Masey", just because she understood that he was now her stepfather, but Mason said he had no problem being called Uncle Mason, because he was already used to it. “Go put on a coat, you're freezing.” 

You traveled to Manchester and would spend the weekend with Mason, also taking advantage of the fact that the game on Sunday would be at Old Trafford and you would be able to see Mason play. Olivia loved the days you guys traveled as she would spend time away from home and get to know new places with you. 

Not to mention the fact that Mason decorated a room for her, exactly the way she wanted. You didn't know it, but Mason and Olivia had already talked about the decoration and when you arrived one weekend, you found a decorated room. Olivia almost cried when she saw the room the way she asked. 

The room was white with pink details, butterfly drawings on the wall and a huge bed just like Olivia always asked for. Mason even put a desk for her to study and a small bookshelf with some interesting books for children. It was much better than her room in your apartment in London, and that's why it was always hard to go home when she had so many comforts in Manchester. 

Mason spoils her too much, and she is getting used to this life very easily.

“Mum, can you help me take a shower?” Olivia asked quietly, so you agreed and closed your computer, walking her upstairs to help her bathe. Olivia is an independent child, but sometimes lazy and most of the time she would ask you to help her so she wouldn't have to do everything alone. Plus, the bathroom in Mason's house is different, so she can never get the water to the temperature she wants.

“Have you and Mason picked out dinner yet?” You asked as you helped her take off the coats she was wearing. Even with the house being heated, Olivia liked to stay warm. 

“Mase said we can order pizza.” She walked past you and stepped into the hot, running water of the shower. You grabbed her shampoo that Mason had bought just for her to use, as well as her favorite strawberry soap.

Mason has always been attentive to Olivia, he never stopped listening to what she likes, what she says, and she always felt comfortable sharing everything with him, just because Mason made her feel comfortable.

“That's a good idea. Here, shampoo your hair, do you want some help?”

“No.” Olivia was thoughtful, but the day was tiring for her, as she had fun before deciding to watch a movie with Mason. “Mum, can I ask you something?” 

“Of course, honey.” 

“Can I call Mason dad?” 

You froze. You didn't expect that question coming from her, in fact, you never thought she liked Mason so much that she wanted to call him dad. You had only been together for three months, who would have guaranteed that you would be together forever? 

“What?” 

“He's your boyfriend now, mum, and I love Mason so much, I also wish I had a dad like my friends in school.” 

“Babe… I don’t know, Olivia. We have to ask him about this, and what if he doesn't want to? You'll be sad about that.” You rubbed Olivia's hair as she played with the water that was falling on her. 

“Oh, yes, but what if he wants me to call him dad?” She looked at you with teary eyes, and you were touched to realize that she really wanted Mason's presence in her life.

You always thought you could fill her lack of a father, but realizing now, Mason was always there for her, just like Robert. 

“Oh, babe, why did you never tell me anything about this?” You knelt down and didn't care about getting your clothes wet. Olivia came up to you with her hair full of foam, and she placed her hands on your face.

“I don't want you to think I'm sad. You're the best mommy in the world, but Mase would be a cool daddy too.” It would be a lie to say you didn't want to cry about it.

“We'll ask him then.”

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

“Mase, can you get me some juice? I'm thirsty.” Olivia asked Mason, who was walking to the kitchen to set the table for you guys to have dinner, and she was lying on the mattress on the living room floor again, watching Pinocchio.

“Olivia, go get it yourself.” You scolded her, knowing that Mason does whatever she wants. You were walking down the stairs after taking a hot shower, and Mason had already ordered the pizza for you. 

“I'll get it.” Mason said and walked to the kitchen, so you followed him and watched as he poured the grape juice into a glass for Olivia and took it to her. He quickly returned with the empty glass.

“You can't do everything she asks, Mason. She's taking advantage of you because you can't say “no” to her.” You were serious and Mason looked at you, shrugging.

“She just wanted some juice, love.” Mason came closer, grabbing your waist and pulling you against him. He was wearing a hoodie, just like you, and he was so warm that you just wanted to lay down next to him and sleep in the warmth.

“Yeah, juice, shampoo, bedroom, toys, shoes, clothes…” 

“Guilty.” Mason laughed and you wrapped your arms around his neck, lifting your head and kissing his lips. You sighed as he deepened the kiss, and it felt so good to kiss him that you could spend hours like this, just being around him. “Hmm, I love you.” 

“I love you too.” You spoke and the doorbell rang, so the two of you went to the living room while Mason went to get the pizza. Olivia stood up and held your hands, walking with you to the kitchen.

“May I ask?” She spoke quietly, knowing Mason was behind the two of you, so you nodded, giving her a smile and encouraging her. 

Mason placed the pizza on the table, oblivious to Olivia's nervousness, which was now transparent. She was fidgeting with her hair and kneeling on one of the chairs, and you knew she fidgeted when she was nervous. Mason served you slices of pizza while the two of you chatted randomly, and Olivia still hadn't said anything. 

“I left it reserved for you tomorrow at the game, you can stay close to Anouska, she's going with the kids there.” 

You agreed, but Olivia was still nervous and wasn't eating, you were sitting next to her, so you placed your hand over hers, reassuring your little girl.

“Mase, Olivia wants to ask you something.” You spoke for her, and Mason nodded and finished chewing before looking at the two of you, paying attention to what Olivia wanted to say.

“Mom, I got nervous.” She said shyly and you smiled, running your hands over her back and rubbing. Mason had a smile on his face even though he didn't know what it was. “Mase… Hm… I want to know if- hm… I want to know if I can call you dad.” 

You could see the shock cross Mason's face, because he clearly wasn't expecting this. Olivia also looked at him as he didn't look away from her for a second.

“What?” That's what he managed to say, swallowing hard. 

“Only if you want to.” Olivia spoke softly, and you could tell that Mason's delay in responding made her feel insecure, and she snuggled closer to you. You looked at Mason with a small smile, knowing that it was a lot of information for someone.

“For real? You want to call me dad?” Mason asked and Olivia nodded, and you could completely see it as his eyes filled with tears and he put his hands over his eyes, trying to stop his emotion.

“I want to.” She smiled. Mason got out of his seat and walked over to her, kneeling down beside her on the floor and pulling her against him, hugging her. Olivia wrapped her arms around his neck and it was probably the most beautiful scene you had ever seen between them. 

Mason had his eyes closed as he hugged her, but a huge smile on his face as you saw a tear run down his face. That's when you felt like you were crying too, because a tear fell down your leg.

“Only if I can call you my daughter too.” He whispered, but you heard. Olivia let out a loud laugh of happiness, and you felt your heart explode with so much love and happiness as you finally felt complete.

“Yes, yes.” She cheered and you smiled, then Mason let go of her and wiped his own eyes, looking at you next. She jumped into Mason's arms, ignoring the pizza she wanted so badly, and looked at you. You stood up and walked over to the two of them, so Mason wrapped an arm around your neck while holding Olivia in the other arm. “We are a family now.”

“After seven years.” Mason mumbled and you smiled, leaning in and leaving a kiss on his lips. Olivia smiled and left a kiss on Mason's cheek and yours. “Can you believe it? I have a daughter now.”

“It's a big responsibility, you know.” Mason rolled his eyes and you smiled.

“Thank you for this, really. I couldn't ask for anything better.” He spoke to you, then to Olivia and smiled at her. “I love you both, my girls.”

“I love you too, dad.” Mason's eyes filled with tears again when Olivia spoke, but he held back from letting them fall. “Mum, we need to move to Manchester, families live in the same house.”

“Hey, easy girl. One thing at a time.” 

“She’s right. She can't live in London while her father lives in Manchester.” 

“Calm down too, that's a topic for another time.”

“Yes, now I want pizza.” Olivia spoke and you smiled, then Mason placed her in the chair again and looked at you gratefully.

Maybe it would take you a while to move, or maybe not. No one knows what might happen the next day, but you hope things will work out forever.

yourusername

liked by masonmount, declanrice, yourfriend and 359 others

yourusername It's been a great few months 🤍

↳ masonmount Love you so much, my girls! ❤️

↳ debbiemount I miss you, great pictures ❤️😀

↳ jazbenham Can't wait to see you again, the girls miss you and Olivia 🥰

[vodika-vibes]

Vod I can not stop thinking about them strong, handsome clones railing their partner against the wall in the shower, the idea is living rent free in my brain 😭

So can I possibly request post-mission refresher/shower sex with Wolffe, Crosshairs or even Echo? Maybe one (or both) of them is a bit sore after said mission so one suggests taking a hot shower to release tension/easy up any muscle pain and one thing leads to another? 👀

Long Days and Relaxing Nights

Summary: After a long day of work, and a mission that started out fine but then went sideways in the worst ways, you and Crosshair take some time to ease each other’s pain.

Pairing: Imperial! Crosshair x Imperial! F! Reader

Word Count: 1516

Warnings: Smut, nothing too wild though

A/N: So At first I was going to do Wolffe, but then I had an idea and this was born instead. Sorry if the smut isn't spicy enough. Or if it's not what you wanted. I hope you like it anyway.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

Your entire body aches. You’re pretty sure you pulled a muscle in your shoulder, and the pain radiates up your neck. And the stress you’ve been under for the last couple of days has morphed into a tension headache that’s threatening to turn into a migraine.

All you want is to fall into bed and sleep for the next week.

But you still have reports you need to file, and the next mission needs to be selected from the pile that is sitting in your inbox, and you need to make sure that Crosshair doesn’t need anymore battery packs for his sniper rifle—

The list of things that need to be done before you can take a break makes your head throb with pain, and you release a silent sigh as you press the palm of your hand against your temple.

You need a break. Desperately.

But the Empire never rests. And Crosshair’s very life depends on the pair of you being the most effective partners in the Imperial Army. Crosshair’s life, and your freedom.

And so, with that thought at the forefront of your mind, you walk over to your desk to grab the bottle of pain medicine. You’ll take three pills, crunch them to make the medicine work faster—RIP your liver—and then go back to work. At least for a couple of hours.

You hear Crosshair enter your shared bedroom and you turn to watch him peel his casual clothes off, before he heads into the fresher. You hear the familiar sound of the shower turning on and steam starts to billow out of the fresher, and you shake your head with a fond smile.

Crosshair does love his hot showers. You hope he leaves some hot water for you.

You turn back to your computer, waiting for it to power own, when a familiar arm reaches over your shoulder and hits the power button. Turning the device off before it could properly turn on.

“Cross?”

His hand, large and calloused, wraps around your wrist and he tugs you to your feet with ease. “We’re taking a shower.”

It’s not phrased as a question, but there’s something almost fragile in his gaze that makes you immediately agree. For all that he acts cold and distant, your Crosshair is actually a pretty sensitive guy.

And playing assassin for the Empire is wearing him down.

You might be in constant physical pain, but he’s in constant emotional pain and, in your opinion, he has it much, much worse.

And so, you allow him to pull you away from the desk and into the middle of the room. Tension drains from your tight shoulders as he slowly, reverently almost, starts to undress you.

He unbuttons your shirt and slowly pushes it off your shoulders, his calloused hands dragging pleasantly against your sensitive skin. Your camisole is next, pulled over your head with gentle care.

Every inch of skin exposed to him is lovingly caressed, though he spends several minutes playing with your nipples and kissing up your shoulders and neck, before he starts to remove your pants.

For a moment, as soon as you’re naked, you think that he’s going to give up on whatever plan he has and just toss you on the bed to fuck all of the bad away, but then you wince as you roll your shoulder, and his resolve steels.

He takes your hands in his and brings them to his lips, pressing light kisses against your knuckles, before he pulls you into the fresher. Crosshair shuts the door behind the pair of you, allowing the fresher to fill with steam, and then he slides his hands to your hips, so he’s able to lift you into the shower.

The water is hot against your skin, but it also feels nice. And even more tension drains from you as the water pounds against your aching skin. You hear, more than see, Crosshair step into the shower with you, and you immediately lean back into his touch as he wraps his arms around your waist.

His long, clever fingers absently trace the many scars covering your body—a long life as a thief will do that to a girl—and your eyes flutter shut in pleasure.

“You’re affectionate this evening,” You murmur as you slowly reach up to wrap a single arm around his neck, as best as you can from this position.

“I’m always affectionate,” He counters, his voice low against your ear. One of his hands drifts across your chest, tracing one nipple, and then the other, before sliding back to the first and pinching it. His other hand, however, slides down your body and dips between your thighs, not touching anything that you want him to touch. He just lets his hand rest there.

It’s comforting, and annoying in equal measures.

“You’re like a tooka who only wants affection at certain times,” You accuse, though there’s no heat in your voice. If you’re soft and pliant enough, maybe Crosshair will finger you.

He clicks his tongue at you, and then taps the inside of your foot with his, “Spread your legs, mesh’la.” And you do, immediately. “Good girl.” His voice is like a purr against your skin, and you can’t help the soft whimper that slips from your lips.

You’ve always had a thing for praise, after all.

And a thing for nice voices. His voice, specifically.

And he uses both of those fact against you with no regrets.

Finally, his hand between your thighs moves, and you feel a single, strong finger circling your clit, making you gasp and your hips jerk without your permission.

“You’re already wet, mesh’la.” His lips drag down the column of your throat and then back up again, “What have you been thinking off to get you so messy?” He stops playing with your clit, which causes you to make a disagreeable noise, but he soothes you with soft shushing noises before easing two fingers inside you.

You know, from experience, that Crosshair doesn’t find pain enjoyable. Not giving or receiving. And so, he’s always gentle with you. Always. You might end up with bruises, but they’re always unintentional.

And you love that about him.

You tilt your head back slightly, “You’ve been talking to me all day,” Your voice is breathy and soft, and he chuckles softly.

“You like me that much?”

“Do you doubt it?”

He leans over your shoulder just enough that he’s able to crash his lips against yours, and slide his tongue against yours. “Never.” He finally replies as he barely breaks the kiss enough that he’s able to speak.

He curls the fingers that are buried inside you in just the right way, and a slightly broken moan falls from your lips as his fingers brush against that spot you can never quite reach with your own fingers. “C-Cross—”

That’s when he pulls his fingers out of you.

It’s mean enough that it makes you want to cry, but he’s already moving. Crosshair makes sure that you’re both under the stream of hot water, and then he positions you so your hands are pressed against the wall, and you’re slightly bent over.

You feel his fingers against you again, spreading your slick with his fingers, and then you feel the blunt head of his cock pressing against you. There’s always a stretch, no matter how aroused you might be or how much he’s prepared you.

And you think you love the way he stretches you.

You know you love how slow he is when he’s first entering you. As if he wants to take him time to enjoy you, rather than taking you all at once. But, all too soon, he’s completely bottomed out inside you.

But he doesn’t move.

In fact, his hands settle firmly on your hips to keep you still while he pressed his forehead to the back of your head.

“Cross—” His name is a whine, more than anything, “Move—”

“In a minute,” He replies, moving his head slightly, so he’s able to scrap his teeth against your ear, “Mesh’la.” The way the pet name he granted you falls from his lips makes it sound like he’s worshiping you, and your stomach flips pleasantly at the thought.

His hands tighten on your hips and slowly he pulls out, almost completely, and then he thrusts back it. Crosshair doesn’t set a fast pace, or a hard one. It’s slow and gentle, lazy almost.

And every roll of his hips has you gasping and moaning his name like you belong in a porno. It would be embarrassing if he was anyone other than Crosshair.

You can feel him grinning against your shoulder, and you know that this is only the beginning of the night he has planned.

And, as his hand slides from your hip to settle between your thighs again, his finger once against circling your clit, you know that even if he keeps you up all night fucking you, you won’t mind. He’s Crosshair, after all, and he’s yours.

@heidnspeak

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[evdarlin]

School Kid Crush

*A/N okay so this is the first thing I've wrote since I was like 18 writing about one direction so I'm sorry if its complete dog shit. I tried and kinda want to make it a series maybe if people actually like it but yeah be easy on me pls*

From the moment that I met Spencer Agnew on my very first day at Smosh as the new Games PA, we instantly clicked. We would spend every lunch together quoting obscure movies or Family Guy. We hung out at each other’s apartments many weekends, me just watching him play video games or forcing him to watch Bridgerton with me. There was something there and I think we all could feel it. Spencer was always the one I could go to geek out about the things I always thought I was being annoying talking about. It was almost like I had met my other half which could only be explained as the most terrifying but best feeling in the world. The whole office knew that there was something there but I might be speaking for myself but I did not want to act on it solely from my own relationship problems and that we were coworkers and did not want to make things so complicated. So for now, we are just good good friends who might just be completely infatuated with each other.

Walking into the Smosh office on Friday morning felt like every other morning on the last day of the week. I didn’t get enough sleep and would rather have been curled up back in my bed asleep but someone has to pay rent. Once I arrived at my desk directly across from Courtney’s, I could see that some sweet angel had placed my dear alani drink right in front of my computer. There was only one person who could have brought that for me and I knew it was Spencer so I took off to the Games pod to thank him dearly. 

“Have I ever told you that you are a godsend and have saved my life on multiple occasions?” I say while walking up to Spencer’s desk.

“Well yes but have I ever told you that you are severely overdramatic with your words?” He said as he swiveled around in his chair.

“Alright that’s rude but I’ll let it slide since you brought me a drink sir.” I rolled my eyes and took a seat on the little couch in the small space. The office was pretty quiet this morning which is unusual but I welcomed it. “How long do you think it’s going to take before someone is yelling in here?”

“I say give it about ten minutes when Angela comes in and sees that she has to take care of that baby today” Spencer laughed and almost on cue heard Chanse cackling at Angela.

“Are you going to Courtney and Shayne’s combined bachelor party tonight?” Spencer suddenly looked nervous asking this question which is new for him around me that is.

“Yeah, I was going to head home after work to change then head over to the place, are you going?” I asked, praying and hoping he was going not wanting to miss a chance to hang out with him outside of these four walls of the Smosh office. 

“Well seeing as you just said you were going then absolutely I am. Um, can I pick you up and drive you to the party maybe?” There it was again, the nervous look on his face. 

“Of course!” I said maybe a little too fast and too enthusiastic, “I mean yeah that would be okay, that way I could have at least one or two drinks while I’m there.” I did not recover from that at all but maybe he won’t notice but seeing that smirk on his face, I am wrong.

“Then I will be there to pick you up at 7:30ish, does that sound okay?” Spencer asked, seeming to be a lot more relaxed now that I said yes.

“Sure! That gives me plenty of time, see you later Spen!” I gave him a small wave and walked back to my desk to get started on my small list of tasks I mentally gave myself to get done before filming started and I had zero free time until 5 p.m. As I walked back to my desk I was brought back to how nervous Spencer was asking me if he could drive me to the party. I mean we carpool sometimes to work and even ride together to function outside of the workplace so this shouldn’t be any different right? Oh god, is this a date? Does he know it’s a date? It can’t be a date when it’s Courtney and Shayne’s day right? I’m spiraling and don’t even notice that I ran right into Tommy.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry I wasn’t paying attention at all!” I stopped to make sure I didn’t cause some huge mess by running into him.

“It’s okay Y/N! You were really deep into thought there love, you doing okay?” Tommy asked with concern written all over his face, I suppose you can tell I was going through it up in my head.

“Uh well not really but I’ll be okay.” We both started walking towards our desks, I hoped to change the subject so I no longer had to think about what’s going on inside my head but Tommy had other ideas.

“Is it Spencer? I can totally fight him if you need me to or I can hide his Kickstarters until he apologizes to you.” Tommy giggled but stopped as soon as he saw how deep red my face had become.

“Wha- How did you know?” You mean to tell me the rest of the office knew how I truly felt about Spencer, shit.

“Oh honey, the man is completely infatuated with you and I also know you’re infatuated with him. I truly thought you guys were already together and just keeping it a secret for personal reasons. You know it’s okay to like him right? I know about the whole relationship problems you’ve had in the past but I don’t think Spencer is like that actually I know he’s not.” Tommy stopped walking to put his hand on my shoulder and gave it a little squeeze.

“Nope, nope, nope. You’re wrong, I know of no such infatuation you speak of Tommy Bowe.” I avoided eye contact the entire time but eventually sighed, “Is it that obvious?”

“Eh, kind of but hey it’s okay to like someone even if you guys work together. You guys have been attached at the hip ever since you started here and I think you might be the same person. I do not think he’s going to ghost you like every other piece of shit man who has entered your life.” Tommy knew more than maybe anyone about how much self doubt I have put on myself from constantly just men stopping talking to me out of nowhere. It didn’t matter if he said he was different, none of them were. They all were the same.

“I know he is a good person Tommy but I’m not sure I could deal with losing him as a friend and even worse I would have to see him every single day at work. I promise I’m just in my head a little bit, I’ll be okay.” I gave my most convincing smile and headed to my computer to start on my work for the day.

The work day honestly flew by without any more emotional spirals even at lunch when I could see Tommy giving me those knowing looks from across the table anytime Spencer did anything remotely nice for me. I left the office the minute it hit 5 p.m. just wanting to get out of there, I didn’t even wait for Spencer to walk with him in the parking lot. I needed to get to the comfort of my apartment and be alone before I had a full blown panic attack, not to mention I needed to get ready for this party. I made it home in record time with just enough time to get ready and sit in silence and think about what I should do. I decided to say screw it and just bring up my conversation with Tommy and see what happens. Do I know what’s going to happen? Not at all but you know what I need to do something to stop this spiral. I grabbed my bag and headed out the door was I saw that Spencer said he was outside. Spencer was waiting outside his car for me and even opened the door for me, what a gentleman. 

“You were nowhere to be found after work dude, where the hell did you go?” Spencer asked, closing the door as I settled into the front seat.

“Sorry, I started feeling bad so I had to get out of there. Hope you didn’t get attacked in the parking lot without your guard dog.” I laughed as he started his car and headed towards the place where the party was being held.

“You are literally shorter than me which is saying a lot but I was a damsel in distress and you just left me alone to die.” Spencer pretended to wipe a fake tear and looked over at me giggling. “But were you okay? Like nothing happened right?”

“Yeah I was fine, Tommy just got me thinking and I just got a little overwhelmed but promise I am perfectly fine now!” I smiled and let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding in. “It um actually was about you if I’m being honest?” 

“Me? I swear whatever it was I didn’t do it.” Spencer threw his hands up but I grabbed the wheel and gave him a glare.

“He did say that if you hurt my feelings he was going to hide your drinks until you apologize to me,” I looked over at him preparing myself for what I was going to say next, “He also said he thought we were together and were pulling a Courtney and Shayne”. 

“Hm, Tommy thinks we’re famous enough to hide our relationship like that? Wow, I am flattered.” Spencer laughed looking over at me then stopped because he realized this might be a serious conversation. “Wait, being in a relationship with me sounds so terrifying to you that you had to book it out of the office?” I looked over and saw that we had already arrived at the place but I knew our conversation was not going to end just because we were here.

“No! I just got in my head and was so scared that if you knew that I had this massive ass school kid crush on you, it would ruin this friendship we have built. I have no clue what I would do if you were not in my life, Spencer, honestly.” I realized I have just told him about this crush I have on him with my word vomit so there was no turning back now. “I like you alright, I like you a lot and it’s so damn scary because I’m terrified to lose you in any sense of my life.”

“A massive crush you say?” Spencer started giggling and all I could do was glare at him ready to smack that smirk off his face. “I like you too dummy, I thought you knew already and just saw me as your dorky coworker who also is your best friend. I promise you’re not losing me anytime soon. You’re stuck with me now babe.” He smiled and leaned over to give me a soft kiss. A kiss that I think I have been waiting for what felt like years, a kiss that seemed to let go over all of my insecurities and finally felt safe and confident in a relationship. “Now, let’s go into this party and steal Courtney and Shayne’s thunder.”

We started to walk to the door of the place, hand in hand, and ready to face all of our coworkers. The only thing you can hear as soon as we walked into the room was a far away “FUCK YEAH” which I can only place as Angela screaming.

[prettyyoungandbored]

Playboy - Johnny Knoxville

Pairings: Johnny Knoxville x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of nudity

Author’s Note: A short Johnny Knoxville x Babydoll fic.

NOT MY GIF

“I was thinking maybe we get the guys into a glitter pool,” Jeff spoke up.

Y/N snorted, her coffee cup to her lips. “The clean up process is gonna be bitch. We did a similar concept for a ‘Playboy’ shoot once and it took us two hours to clean up everything.”

Johnny perked his head up, interested. “Wait what about ‘Playboy’?”

“Oh, I worked production on some ‘Playboy’ shoots,” she shrugged.

“She also wrote for the magazine,” Jeff added. He turned his attention back to Y/N. “They really made you guys clean it up? Doesn’t the mansion have like a clean up crew?”

“Yeah for the mansion,” she said. “The shot ended up looking amazing but it was just awful to clean up.”

Johnny tuned out the rest of the conversation as his mind drifted to daydreams of Y/N posing for Playboy.

======================================

An hour later, he wandered over to Y/N’s makeshift office where she finished printing the shooting schedules for the week.

“Hey you!” she beamed. “I was thinking about stopping at the store and bringing some dessert for the Margera’s dinner tomorrow tonight. Any ideas?”

He waved his hand. “Anything will be great. So, ‘Playboy’, huh?”

She made a face. “You do realize it is not that big of a deal, right? Like it was a job.”

“But then you wrote for the magazine too?”

“Yeah. Hugh Hefner and I got into a conversation one time and he was interested in my writing. I sent him a couple stuff and he published it.”

Johnny’s eyes widened. “What did you write?”

“I can send you copies,” she laughed. “I wrote under a pseudonym.“

“Oh yeah? What was the name?”

“Maxine Flynn.”

Johnny nodded his head, making a mental note to search the went for the name. “Did you ever get scouted or asked to pose nude?”

She scrunched her face. “God no.”

“So you had a whole conversation with the man himself and he didn’t once ask you if you were interested in being a playmate?”

She chuckled. “I get where this is going and you’re very sweet, but no, I did not get asked to pose for the magazine or to be a playmate. All I did was some behind-the-scene stuff and some writing.”

He shoved his hands in his pants pocket. “You would’ve been my favorite playmate.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“You know what, you are my favorite playmate.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s not how that works.”

“I don’t care. You’re my favorite playmate.”

She hummed. “I didn’t realize you would be ok with the entire world seeing my tits out.” She kissed his cheek. “Good to know though!”

She made her way out of the office when Johnny yelled out, “Hey, I never said that!”

======================================

Johnny spent hours reading Y/N’s stories for Playboy, blown away. Sure, he was aware of her creativity and brilliance, but he didn’t realize just how truly talented she was.

The knock on his hotel room door pulled him away from his rabbit hole. He opened the door to find Y/N standing there.

“I can’t sleep so I need to you cuddle me until I do,” she said, walking in.

He closed the door and watched her crawl into his bed.

She looked at him. “What?”

“Yeah, I just spend like a couple hours reading your Playboy stuff,” Johnny admitted, pointing to the laptop.

She glanced at the laptop and then back at him. “Ok, so ask me your questions while you cuddle me.”

She held out her arms as Johnny closed the laptop and then jumped into bed beside her.

As she cuddled to his chest, she yawned. “Alright, what questions do you have for me?”

======================================

Two Years Later…

Y/N knocked on Johnny’s home office door, holding a the wrapped gift behind her.

“What’s up, Babydoll?” Johnny asked, his eyes still on his desktop computer.

“I have a present for you.”

Johnny’s eyes now moved to her and he got up from his desk. “What is it?”

She presented him the wrapped item. “Think of it as a little engagement present.”

He pouted, taking the gift in his hands. “Cutie, you didn’t have to get me a present.”

“Oh, but I think you’ll like it,” she smirked.

Johnny ripped it open and his face dropped. It was a framed photo of what looked like a fake Playboy magazine cover with Y/N posing semi-nude. She held her bare breasts with her hands as her lower region was covered with a large text that read FUTURE MRS. KNOXVILLE.

Johnny fixated on it, unable to process what the hell she had given him. She smiled at him, delighted.

“I used my connections for the photo shoot and graphics,” she explained. “It looks real, doesn’t it?!”

Johnny turned to his face, eyes hungry.

“Bedroom. NOW.”

[ralvezfanatic]

Hi, I see you requests are open 😺 I love your work ♥️♥️ Can I request a write-up about Spencer Reid? where Reader has a online work that keeps him up late and Spencer worries that the reader is not sleeping and wants to take him to sleep, especially that Spencer can't sleep without Reader. I hope it was understood, sorry. English is not my first language.

Thank you, I really love how you write!! Take your time ✨

Sleepy

Spencer Reid x Male!Reader

Reader likes to stay up late to finish his work, leaving Spencer alone in bed. Unfortunately Spencer can't sleep without his boyfriend.

Warnings: Fluff. Clingy Spencer, sorta workaholic/insomniac Reader. Soft kissing at the end, nth sexual.

Note: tysm for the request anon !! this was really nice to write, and no worries, i understood this perfectly :))

Word Count: 1.1k

You worked from home, meaning you were practically your own boss. You managed your own time and worked whatever hours you wanted. It didn't matter as long as you finished by the deadline, or earlier which was always better because you'd have more free time.

That's what you've been doing recently. Staying up late in your office trying to finish your latest project early so you'd have more time with Spencer in the day. You'd never know when he'd be called on a case so you figured spending most of the day and evening with him was better.

You had already been in bed, trying to sleep as Spencer cuddled up to you. His long limbs wrapped around you, keeping you close to him for warmth and comfort. Although he wore a long sleeved shirt and pajama pants, he was somehow cold, which meant he stayed glued to you.

You held him close to you, playing with his curls as he slept soundly. His face was relaxed and he looked so peaceful. You moved some of his hair off his face and placed a soft kiss on his nose before gently freeing yourself from his embrace.

Of course you wanted to be with him, but you weren't tired.. and you think you just came up with a solution for that little bug in your project. You pulled the blanket that Spencer had somehow thrown off himself and covered him up so he'd be warm. You took a hoodie from the desk chair in the room, and quickly threw it on, not really wanting to be shirtless as you worked.

Silently, you made your way to your office and thanked your forgetful self for leaving the door open, knowing that it creaked too much when opened.

You, of course, left the door open when you entered, not wanting to make too much noise so you wouldn't wake up your boyfriend, wanting him to rest as much as possible. He probably didn't sleep enough while he was away on the case, so you wanted to make sure he stayed asleep all night.

You sat down at your desk, waking up your computer and opening up your project, quickly getting to work. You thought you could maybe finish up this project if you stayed up most of the night. Surely Spencer wouldn't mind, he was deep asleep.

As the computer finally opened up your project, you started working on it, trying out the solution that came to your mind moments ago.

Unfortunately, Spencer did mind you leaving him in the middle of the night. He woke up moments after you left him, frowning at the empty spot next to him. He rubbed his eyes, looking out the room for a sign of you, trying to listen for a toilet flushing, hoping you just needed the bathroom.

Spencer stayed in bed a few minutes, but finally got up when he didn't hear anything. He yawned and got up, putting on his slippers and heading to your office, upset that you were up working again.

“Y/N, come to bed.” Spencer whined as he approached you from behind. “It's late, you can work on that tomorrow.” He frowned, leaning down and wrapping his arms around you, hiding his face into the crook of your neck, hiding his yawn.

“Baby? I thought you were sleeping?” You ask softly, looking up at him confused and grabbing his hands on your chest. “I was! Until you left me..” He muttered into your neck. “Y/N, you need sleep, these habits aren't healthy.” He stood up, stretching up as you spun your chair to face him.

“I don't want to hear about unhealthy sleeping habits from you,” You responded, raising an eyebrow at him. “Dr. Staying up all night to look for the case for something you must have missed”

Spencer frowned at you, but stayed silent knowing you were right. He shook his head and took your hands, pulling you up from your chair. “That’s only during cases. You do it all the time.” He sighed, pulling you into a hug. “Come to bed.” He asked, his voice soft as he held you.

“But-”

“I can't sleep without you.” He whined, interrupting any excuse you were about to give. “Please?” He hid his face away into your shoulder, begging you to go to bed.

“Okay.” You nod, feeling bad for not only waking him, but worrying him about your health.

“Really?” Spencer pulled away from your neck and looked at you with a small smile.

“Of course sweetheart.” You nod, smiling back at him. “And I'm sorry to have woken you up..” You apologize, cupping his cheek and pressing a small kiss onto his nose.

“Just don't do it again.” He chuckled, scrunching his nose at your kiss.”C'mon, lets go to bed, I'm getting cold already.” He took hold of your hand, leading you out of the office.

“Hey! My computer is still on!” You laugh, letting him lead you away, knowing it's not that big of a deal.

“Don't care!! I'm cold and sleepy!” He replied as you closed your office door after exiting.

You shook your head and headed to your bedroom with Spencer, grateful for having such a caring boyfriend.

He climbed into bed quickly, lifting the blanket as he waited for you. You pull off your hoodie and throw it back to the chair it was on earlier and slip into bed next to your boyfriend, who looks at you oddly.

“How are you never cold?” His eyebrows furrow, dropping the blanket over the both of you, quickly snuggling up to you.

You shrug, pulling him close into a hug and petting his hair. “I don’t know.. but it could be because I'm just super hot.” You reply with a smirk, which makes Spencer laugh.

“Mm, yeah probably.” He agrees, looking up at you with a smile. He stretches his neck up to your face and gives you a kiss, which you quickly accept. You both shift slightly on the bed in order to be in a more comfortable position to kiss each other.

You grab Spencer's jaw and hold him gently, the both of you just kissing each other lazily. The kiss was soft, gentle and full of love. It was quick, neither of you wanting to take it any further.

“Mm, love you Y/N” Spencer pulls away, a faint blush on his cheeks that were just barely visible with the moonlight that shone through the windows.

You smile at him, pressing another kiss onto his forehead before responding. “Love you too Spence.”

[tkimaginations]

How would Dragunov be as your partner, and what would his love languages be?

Our Favorite Russian is Coming… 

His relationships would be built on eye contact and non-verbal communication. Every entrance, interaction, and victory pose shows him staring seriously at his opponents—especially his enemies. 

If you’re an extroverted person who can easily talk to anyone, winning the White Angel of Death’s heart might be difficult. He does speak, but only when he truly wants to. However, if you respect his silence and understand that it’s one of his weapons—used to catch enemies by surprise—he will slowly begin to open up. 

If you're an introvert, the two of you would likely communicate through eye contact or text, since neither of you would want to use your voices much. Still, I see [character's name] being more open to talking than he is, as he has been quiet since his younger years. 

He wouldn’t be against affection, but he believes it’s best to show it only when you’re in the privacy of your shared home. Given the number of enemies the Russian army has, he wouldn’t want to put his love at risk—especially in the public eye during tournaments. 

Being a Taurus (born on May 11th), it’s easy to see that he is a workaholic, passionate about food, and stubborn—just like you. 

As for photos? Forget it. In real life, the Russian army has strict rules preventing soldiers from sharing anything on social media, and it wouldn’t be any different here. This is to prevent sensitive information from leaking to the world. Plus, Sergei himself is shy and dislikes photos. In one of his entrances, he even notices the camera filming him and immediately turns it away. If you try to take a picture of him, he’ll be as fast as he is in combat—dodging your every attempt. And if, by some lucky chance, you manage to snap a photo, he will stare at you with his icy blue eyes and insist that you delete it, frustrating you. But deep down, you understand that he’s only doing it to protect you from potential danger. 

To make him think of you while he’s working, you decide to give him a Polaroid of the two of you. In the picture, you're smiling, dressed in traditional Russian festival attire, while he remains serious, quietly observing you. Puzzled, he asks how you managed to get the photo, and you simply reply with a wink. - I have my methods, Major.

He would study the photo with a curious expression before giving a dry, “Thank you.” He may not show it outright, but he secretly loves having the picture in his wallet, a reminder of how happy his partner is. With his demanding schedule as a major, the days he spends with you are precious. 

At bedtime, if you have a bad sleeping routine, he will help you rest earlier. He notices how grumpy and tired you get when you don’t sleep well, but instead of scolding you, he watches patiently. If after 20 minutes you still haven’t gone to bed, he will pick you up and carry you there himself. If you’re being stubborn—working or studying late and falling asleep at your desk—he will gently turn off your computer, scoop you up in his strong arms (already dressed in his pajamas), and place you in bed. 

Once in bed, you feel his warmth beside you and hug him from behind, surprising him at first. But over time, he grows accustomed to it. In fact, he prefers being the little spoon, as it makes him feel loved when you hold him close. 

And we can’t forget about his singing! It’s adorable how he hums after winning a fight. However, at the beginning of your relationship, he would be too shy to sing in front of you. 

You know he enjoys singing, but since he’s introverted and reserved, you pretend not to notice when he hums a classic Russian song. But when he hums while doing house chores and you’re tired or deep in thought, you can’t help but smile, thinking about how cute he is when he lets his guard down.  

You love the Soviet band Kino, and he would be surprised to hear you singing their meaningful lyrics—making Dragunov smirk at you.

Before you started dating, you already had a Russian Blue cat—shy around strangers but affectionate with those he trusts. Surprisingly, the cat took an immediate liking to Dragunov, rubbing against him and purring. Dragunov, though initially caught off guard, gently stroked the cat, making him comfortable. Seeing your two favorite Russians together melted your heart. 

[bearieio]

Hihi!! May I request some soft sleepytime stuff with leon? 😋

leon sleep hcs :3

warnings: none! pure fluff! awkward!totallywhipped!loser!leon (kinda...)

a/n: tired of writers depicting leon as a freakydeaky daddydom typa guy... when in reality he's a (semi-) normal, awkward guy.... (￣︿￣) (i will die on this hill).

leon probably snores… like loud, obnoxious snores. almost ALL THROUGHOUT THE NIGHT. he’s like an old man that you have yo turn over to make him stop.

anyways… leon also loves cuddling with you :(( but he’s SOOOO awkward about it. he tries not to breath because he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfy with his breath flowing directly against you face, so he’ll STOP BREATHING (!!?!!???) for long periods of time😭 his heartbeat never losing it’s fast rhythm.

leon is definitely a catdad. he spends insane amounts of money on his 2 cats, both of them being scottish folds :3

“babe look at this cat tree i got for them,” and it’s a FUCKING BUCKINGHAM PALACE CAT TREE. y’know… THE ONE THAT’S LIKE $2,200!!???

“it was the last one in stock!” he continues, one of the cats hanging on his shoulder, the other he’s cradling like an infant in his arms.

leon WILL NOT let you sleep on the bed if the cats were there first.

“BABE! what’re you doing?!-“ he motions towards the 2 felines resting against the silk and satin pillows. “we’re sleeping on the couch.” he smiles, ignoring the irritated look you have on your face “c’mon!”

leon is literally such a dork. a loser, if you will. he’ll tuck you in and make sure you have water, in case you need it in the middle of the night.

he’s so weird too, he’ll be like sound asleep one moment, but then when you open your eyes again 15 seconds later, he’ll be staring at you like:

leon also talks in his sleep. mumbling and groaning in the middle of the night. and like- he only repeats things he hears..

“barack obama was the 44th president chat- he was the 44th presi-“

…dude what.

“i’m ova strokin’ ma dick, i got lotion on my dick, and i’m strokin ma shit-“

when you ask him about it, he’ll be like, “oh yeah… well, did you know barack obama was the 44th president?” and then he’ll carry on with his day as if he doesn’t have the most outrageous dreams….

when he doesn’t have work the following day, HE DOES NOT SLEEP.

“it’s the voices, babe…” he mutters, his eyes glued to his PC, you can hear the minecraft sound effect of blocks breaking and cows mooing. “they’re telling me….. to beat the ender dragon and finally learn how to use redstone…”

when you try to protest, all he responds with is “the grind doesn’t stop for anybody, baby.” with his back still facing you, he lifts his arm to flex a little but immediately brings it back down to rest on the desk, his keys continuing to make a clacking sound as the light from his computer screen lights up the darkened room.

when he finally does go to sleep, it’s usually on the couch. he’s sprawled out and SNORING.

i feel like it’s super hard to wake him up. he’ll be lying on the bed, lifelessly. when you try shaking him/lifting his arm up his body goes limp, almost like those “i thought my cat was dead videos.”

when you’re finally able to wake him up, you’re on the verge of calling 9-1-1. “HOW ARE THE POLICE GONNA COME WHEN THE POLICE IS RIGHT HERE?!” you find yourself talking to the cats. one of them meows, as if she’s responding to your panicked state.

“huh?” you hear a groggy leon, now propped up on his elbows, “hey kitty.” you turn around to see the cats rubbing against leon’s face.

“WHAT THE FUC-“

masterlist

[blackcatwriter]

Late Night Studying (tasm! Peter Parker x f!reader)

a/n: I love fictional men what can I say. I personally imagine this as andrew garfield's peter parker but feel free to imagine him however you want! Also Gwen doesn't die in this universe so no need to worry about that :]

Shout out to @scumscumpooties47 for your editing. Your comments on my google docs always make me cackle.

warnings: just fluff here, set to be in college but no specific age/grade, Peter is set to be taller than you (sorry if you like them shorter)

wc: 936

summary: You decide to study in your dorm lounge and unexpectedly make a new friend.

line divider by @plum98

It has been a long and grueling day for you. Syllabus week was over and now your professors began assigning real work, which, for you, meant endless studying and staring at your computer screen. 

You had been sitting at your desk for what might’ve been four hours now with a blank page pulled up on your google docs. Not only had your professor assigned a five chapter reading, but a reflective ten page paper due by the end of next week. Groaning, you shut your laptop closed. 

Not noticing your surroundings, you hadn’t seen that your roommate was already in bed fast asleep. The only light in the room came from the lamp on your desk. Rubbing your eyes, you looked at your clock and checked the time. 

12:25AM

With a tired sigh, you stood from your desk with your laptop in hand and left the room. You clearly weren’t getting any sleep tonight so no use in bothering your roommate from their sleep. Walking out as quietly as you could, you left to go work in your dorm lounge. Maybe a change of scenery would help with the writer’s block. 

“Damn professor…” You muttered under your breath as you opened the door to the lounge. Catching you off guard, the door came to a halt halfway. “What professor has you up this late already?” A voice sounded from the other side of the door.

Towering over you, a lankish guy stood in front of you. He wore a cheesy mathematics shirt with gray sweats and dripping wet brunette hair. “Just my English class–I’m sorry, are you alright?” You looked him up and down.

“What? Oh! This?” He looked down to the towel in his hand and shrugged. “I took a shower and forgot the keys to my room. My roommate is coming back from a party so I’m just waiting it out here.” He said sheepishly as he sat back down on the sofa.

“You might have bad luck, but great fashion taste.” You grinned, fighting your laughter. After spending most of the day by yourself with just a computer for company, it couldn’t be blamed if you felt a little delirious. Or at least delirious enough to not care if you’re making a fool of yourself to some guy you’ve never talked to.

“You know how to make a guy feel real good about himself.” He narrowed his eyes yet responded in a playful tone. “I’ve seen you passing in the hall before, but I don’t think we’ve ever talked before. I’m Peter.” 

You introduced yourself and continued your lighthearted bantering. Peter, whose full name was Peter Parker, revealed himself to be from Queens and having only an aunt as his family back home. He was majoring in biophysics with a low-level job at the renowned scientific lab, Oscorp.

He did happen to leave out the part where he happened to be New York's friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, but you didn't need to know that.

In return, you told him about yourself and what you were hoping to do with your studies after finishing university. “I mean, I’m not sure if I’ll ever do something as impressive as you with your research, but as long as I make some kind of difference in the world, right?” You spoke wearily, yawning as you rubbed your eyes.

“Are you kidding me? You’re gonna change the world with a mind like yours and how hard you work.” He smiled boyishly. Had you been less sleepy, you might’ve seen the slight pink in his cheeks from where he sat. “It’s getting pretty late, you need sleep. I can walk you to your dorm–” He rambled before you cut him off.

“It’s not late. We’ve only been talking for like ten minutes.” You scoffed and checked the time.

1:13AM

“Oh shit, no, no, no! I didn’t even get to do what I came here for!” You groaned, pulling at your hair. “You distracted me, Peter!” Although you tried blaming him you couldn’t fight the smile from spreading on your face.

A door opened from afar causing both of you to turn towards the sound. “That must be my roommate. M’sorry I distracted you.” Peter’s growing smirk contradicted his words. “Let me make it up to you.” He stood to open the door for you as you trudged past him.

“And just how are you going to do that?” Truthfully, you were only walking so slow to keep the conversation going for as long as you could. You’d definitely regret staying up so late especially because you have an early class the next morning, but something about Peter kept you pulled in.

“We can study together in the library tomorrow. I’ll even get us some ice cream afterward. You know, as an apology.” You stopped in front of your door and laughed. “Okay, Peter but I’m serious this time. I need to study.” You eyed him, but to Peter he only found it funny due to your height difference. You weren't intimidating to him at all.

Mostly because you weren't actively trying to kill him like most of the people he encounters during this time of night, but that's besides the point.

“Hey, I’m serious too! You’re not the only one with work to do.” He rolled his eyes. You exchanged numbers with him, bidding him goodnight and going into your dorm. 

You weren’t one for most college boys, especially because most of them held an arrogant attitude to themselves, but Peter felt different. He seemed genuine and you couldn’t help but look forward to "studying" with him.

a/n: may or may not do a part 2 for this, depends on how much motivation i have

[bteezxyewriter12]

Exhausted

Pairing- Hongjoong x Named Reader

Word count- 1.7k

Includes- Pure fluff, Taking care of your sleepy workaholic boyfriend

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@yeosxxx @seokwoosmole @jjongsbebe @wisejudgedragonhairdo @meowmeowminnie @woo-stars @borntowalkaway @usagionthered @san-realblkwife @seonghwasstar @jejeyeppeo @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @prayerofthehaim @realisticnotes @insomniacatiny @stephy-nicole13 @mknae-jongho @bykeynote @amyz78 @blueie-things

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝ATEEZ Masterlist 📝Hongjoong Masterlist

J POV

"Baby", I call softly, standing next to his computer chair, leaning over, running my fingers in his hair, "Baby, let's go home"

His eyes snap open, sitting up straight

"No jagi, not yet", he says, stifling a yawn, "I have a few things to finish"

"Joongie, you're exhausted"

For the last two hours he's been nodding off, falling asleep at his desk while working on songs

He's even sleeping through the music

And every time I told him we can go home he refuses

Except he fell asleep for the last fifteen minutes and he was snoring softly

He's done

"I can...", he yawns, "Stay awake"

"No baby", I say, my hand moving to his shoulder, "You need to sleep"

"But jagi-"

"No Joongie. You're falling asleep, you're exhausted. Your brain won't work at full capacity and anything you do you'll have to fix tomorrow", I tell him, knowing this will happen based on his history, the fact that we've been dating for six years and I know him extremely well, "Then you'll be upset, ranting and have double work. We're going home"

I see him give in, "Yeah ok baby"

I nod, leaning down and kissing his cheek

I go to the couch in his studio and pack up my stuff

I spent all day with him today

It's my day off and he asked me to come with him

Anytime I can spend with him, I jump at

When I turn around, he's asleep again, his head leaning back against the chair

I just smile

Walking over to his computer, I save all his work in their respective programs- the melodies, the beats, the lyrics, the partial songs

I learned how to do this for him because a few times when he's on the verge of falling asleep he's just shut his computer down and lost his work

Which led to frustration, some tears, lots of hugs and me insisting he show me how to save his work so I can do it for him

After saving everything, I close his laptop down and put it in his bag

I make sure I turn the equipment off, pack up his notebooks and loose papers in his bag

I add his bag to my shoulder with mine then lean over him and call his name, running my fingers on the side of his face to wake him

"Joongie"

I call him a few times before he slowly opens his eyes, his gaze unfocused

"C'mon baby", I tell him, taking his hand and tugging gently

"Mmm", he whines but stands up

"My sleepy baby", I coo

He looks so tired, like he's gonna fall and sleep on the floor

I lead him out of the studio, locking it, then out of the building and towards my car

"Where do you want to go tonight baby?", I ask, getting in the driver's seat after I help him in

"Home", he murmurs, his head already against the window

My apartment

He calls my place home

He practically lives there with all his stuff all over my apartment

"Alright baby. Home it is", I confirm and start driving

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

"Sit baby", I tell him, helping him sit on the bed

He needed help getting out of the car and walking because he was half asleep and stumbling

Kissing his cheek, I go into the bathroom and turn the water on for the bathtub

Hongjoong always showers before bed no matter what

No matter how tired he is, he makes sure he does that first

And I figure since he's so tired that he's wobbly on his legs, a bath is a better option tonight

It'll help him relax more

I'll go in with him and let him lean against me so he doesn't drown if he falls asleep

I get all his soap and face wash, putting it in reach on the tub

When the bathtub is filled, I go back to my room, giggling when I see him face down on the blanket

Sitting next to him, I wake him up gently

"Baby, do you wanna skip a shower tonight and just sleep"

"Uh...no. Not skip"

I sigh

He can be so stubborn sometimes

"C'mon baby. It's just one night"

"Nnnnn..no jagi"

"Ok Joongie"

I help him sit up, then move in front of him

I unbutton his shirt, one at a time, having to stop a few times to keep him from falling over

I push the shirt off his shoulders, then lift one of his hands and pulling the sleeve down it

And do the same to his other arm

He has an tank top on too and I lift it, sliding up his body and over his head

Kneeling down, I take off his sneakers and socks

"Baby, stand for me", I ask

He mumbles something but manages to stand up

Undoing his belt, I open his jeans, pulling them and his boxers down

Then I help him sit again and take his bottom clothes off

Gathering his pile of clothes, I go to the bathroom and put them in the hamper

Then I quickly undress too

"Come baby", I say, waking him up again

He makes whiny noises but he gets up and follows me to the bathroom

He looks at the bath and manages to smile, "Thanks jagi. You always know what I need"

"Anything for you baby"

I help him in, then I get in too, sitting behind him

Opening my legs, I move them over his as I pull him back so he can lean on me

His back lays against my chest, his head automatically leaning against my shoulder and turned so his face is against my neck

I move my arms around him, holding him

"Jagi", he murmurs

"My baby", I coo, moving my hand into his hair, playing softly with the strands

Almost immediately, I hear his soft snores and I giggle softly

Taking his soap, I lather it to make bubbles then I run them all over his exposed chest

I take my time, feeling his soft skin, feeling his heart beating

I spread the bubbles up to his shoulder, then the other, cleaning him

I lift one of his arms up, running the soap on it, then on his hand and fingers

Once I finish lathering his hand, I put his arm back under the water, then repeat on his other arm

Holding his hand, I look at his fingers and smile

The nail polish needs to be repainted on his pinky finger

I'll do it tomorrow

I continue to soap him up as best I can under the water

Once that's done, I get his face wash and softly lather it on his face

Scooping up some water, I gently wash the soap off his gorgeous face

Then I just hold him, my arms around his waist

My poor baby

He's always so overworked, overtired

How he doesn't collapse half the time I'll never know

He's just so strong, works so hard to be a good captain, works hard for ATINY

And for me

I know there are so many times he just wants to crash but he stays awake to spend time with me

He's the best and I love him so much

There nothing I wouldn't do for this man

Taking care of him like this is not a problem

Honestly, I like doing it

All he wants is cuddles and to sleep in my arms which I'll gladly give anytime

He's my everything

I kiss the top of his head and decide to let him sleep until the water gets cold and we get all wrinkly

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

"C'mon baby", I say softly, taking his hand and leading him to my room

I was finally able to wake him up enough to get him out of the tub

I had to lean him against the wall to get a towel around him but I couldn't dry him that way as he kept swaying and I didn't want him to fall

I help him sit on the bed again, then grabbing the extra towel I brought, I move it over his shoulders and softly run it over his skin

I dry his back, his chest, his stomach, neck, arms and hands as gently as I can, glad I picked the softest towels I have

He doesn't need anything to be rough tonight

Kneeling down, I use the same towel to dry his legs and feet

"Stand up for a second baby", I murmur

He makes a soft sound but stands when I help him up

I take the towel from around his waist and dry his bottom half and thighs

Throwing the towels on the floor for now, I help him lay in the bed, his head on one of the soft pillows I bought for him because he like those pillows the best

I pull up the blanket on him, tucking him in, then lean over, running my fingers in his soft hair, kissing his forehead

His eyes crack open as he asks, "Are you coming to sleep too?"

I smile, nodding, knowing he wants me to hold him

"I'm just gonna clean up in the bathroom and dry off then I'll be right here next to you baby"

"Ok", he says, his eyes closing again and I just smile at how cute he is

I finish everything I have to do fairly quickly then get into bed with him

It's like he knows the second I'm there because he immediately rolls over, head on my boob, face squished into the other one, clinging onto me like a koala

I giggle softly, wrapping my arms around him, playing with his hair just how he likes it and holding him tightly

"Love you Joongie", I whisper, pressing a kiss to his forehead

"Love.....you", he mumbles against my skin

He immediately falls asleep because he was so tired

I hate how he overworks himself to exhaustion but that's just how he is

I can't change him, all I can do is accept the way he is and take care of him when it becomes to much for him

And since I love him more than anything, I'm perfectly happy to do that

Kissing the top of his hair, I close my eyes, cuddling my Joongie