#and what I do here is mostly drabbles

[mushroompollution]

Part 1: Judge

Maybe it was Glen's influence, maybe it was Vincent's as a Child of Misfortune, but they had managed to walk through the crater without being blinded by the illusions of the past created by Sablier's black haze.

Still, the journey had been a long and arduous one.

The shambling, agonized victims of the city's abyssal energy had kept them on their toes, though the mutants were hardly a match for Glen. Even in Leo's untrained body, his hand had swiftly ended their suffering with the sword he had taken from Elliot.

The ground trembles beneath their feet with every chain that breaks above and around them. The fragile cliffs and falling debris of the crater had incapacitated Duke Barma, leading Glen to question his alliance. Why hadn't he summoned his Black-winged Chain to protect himself, hm?

And then, well.

Then, there were only two.

As Glen and Vincent continue, the atmosphere of the crater abruptly changes. Vincent comes to a sudden halt, feeling the world seem to ripple around him like a heat mirage. Glen glances over his shoulder, narrowing those starry eyes.

"You aren't getting cold feet now, are you?" comes his indifferent voice.

Those conversations he'd had online echo in Vincent's head, turning his stomach. His chest burns with indignation and embarrassment at his breakdown. He shakes his head. "I. Haven't. I can't. I've destroyed everything around me, my whole life. So I can never back out of this wish," he professes.

Glen's expression sends a shiver down his spine. "Then I will make your wish come true," he takes another step and Vincent follows, like a dog at its handler's foot. "First, lend me your power, Vincent. I will need your help as a Child of Misfortune."

Two more steps forward, and that rippling atmosphere becomes oppressive. Vincent's hair stands on end. But Glen seems unphased as he walks ahead. Another two steps, and that distortion disappears as the scenery changes.

No longer are they standing in the empty, rocky chasm of Sablier. Instead, the pair enter into a grand, circular chamber, surrounded by towering, ornate arches. A massive double-doored Gate stands before them.

Of course, Vincent knows this place. The salon of the Sablier Abyss Gate, the only thing left of the Baskerville estate that had once stood on these grounds. The same place where he and Leo had been ejected after escaping that other world in Jabberwock's claws.

But it feels different now, somehow.

Glen calls out for Jury to appear, and Vincent blinks in surprise. Before he can question, however, he feels the air nearby begin to distort once again. A black haze rises up through the stone floor, swirling as it comes together into the form of the ancient, hunched figure of the eldest Baskerville.

Vincent feels his stomach twist. He'd always avoided that decrepit figure, always felt his hair stand on end around them. One hundred years ago, they were there. Taking Gilbert away for days at a time for his lessons and training as the future Glen. Vincent would sit and wait for his return. Gil always seemed a little different after those lessons. But he never once told his brother what they entailed.

Back then, Vincent had always been kept at an arm's length. From Glen, from the other Baskervilles, from the truth. He had never been told what future awaited Children of Misfortune like him. He had never been told a lot of things.

Now, Vincent takes a step back from Glen's side as he converses with that ancient figure.

"You are aware of the situation, correct?" Glen asks Jury. "At this rate, the world will be destroyed. We don't have time to worry about the Core. I must wrench open the door leading into the past."

Jury tilts their head to the side. Those empty, hollow, watchful eyes bore into the man before them. "In order to do that, I will need to consult with the others."

It's not that statement that chills Vincent to the core so much as it is the surprised trepidation on Glen's face.

"The...Others?"

Vincent's never heard such uncertainty to that man's voice. He almost sounds more like the young man whose body he wears.

Jury's head tilts further yet. Those hollow eyes seem to glow beneath their hooded robe as they watch from an impossible angle.

"Yes.... I will need to ask the other Juries how the Story should continue."

Before Glen can ask what they mean, Jury's form seems to fall apart. Their head falls to the side as a viscous, black fluid oozes from beneath their robes.

And then, Jury explodes.

The ground trembles violently beneath their feet, and a wave of that oppressive energy takes Vincent's breath from his chest. There's a wooshing sound as that wave of energy passes through the chamber, and the colors of the world seem to invert, their surroundings painted black.

"What the hell is going on?!" Vincent gasps. But Glen stands tall as he can in Leo's small body, watching as the black varnish of the void begins to crack.

"This dimension is being distorted..." he remarks.

The void crumbles and cracks, falling away to reveal a different chamber. The walls seem to stretch, growing upwards, reaching for the black skies above as shards of reality rain down on the two below. A long, crooked staircase rises from the ground, growing, step by step, as the Gate moves further and further away. A witness box blocks a landing two-thirds of the way to the top.

Inside his soul, watching helplessly, Leo gasps. "this is... a courtroom," he remarks.

"That's right," comes Levi's amused voice behind him. The previous Glen kneels beside Leo, a smirk on his lips and a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "So I wonder.... Who exactly is going to stand trial?"

[undertale-fic-librarby]

Featured Fic Friday!

Welcome to Featured Fic Friday! A day where I, or someone who suggests one, tell you about a fanfic that I really enjoy! Spoiler's under the cut! Today's featured fic is...

Ancients & Champions by jisko2ijsko (Teen And Up, Complete)

After monsters broke free to the surface Sans thought that the humans would be the hardest to manoeuvre around. Nothing could have prepared him for what he found in a different country far from his home. He will learn more about the world, them and himself as he tries to deal with feelings and long forgotten memories. TLDR: Sans decides to travel to help Alphys and Toriel and ends up meeting more skeletons and experience many more adventures. Good thing two are really cute and the other four are actually very nice. (changed to private only because of bots scrapping stuff and just in case. sorry people. I do NOT give permission to feed my fics into anything AI or auto fanfic writer)

A very long fic that was recently completed, this is good for if you want something to binge or are looking for something to keep you occupied for a while!

The author has an unconventional take on how they have the characters from different universes interact with each other, choosing to combine them all into one universe with interconnecting backstories rather than have them hopping universes each time they need to talk with one another.

The characters lean more towards fanon characterizations by the nature of being written in such a setting, but that doesn't mean the author does a bad job. The conversations & interactions between them all are engaging & show off the relationships between everyone!

They also have the original Undertale cast as part of the story, which is rather unusual for a fic focused on characters from different universes!

Spoilers ahead!

I'm not usually interested in ErrorMare as a ship, but the author had me hooked on what was going to happen next, especially with the inclusion of Sans in the relationship! The background Stars poly is so cute as well, with Ink not realizing he's in love & the scene of Dream claiming the two with his crown!

I'm a sucker for characters that are powerful, so seeing the author have Sans be as strong as he is was a very pleasant surprise! They do it in such a way that it's not shoved in your face, instead letting it be shown or explained.

[knbposting]

>:)

[starlight-academia]

Heyo there, starlight here. Welcome to my page?? Here we go boys, get in the space ship, it's gonna be a wild ride.

Rundown: Mostly post-order 66. A jedi took some kids on a "field trip" (not council sanctioned, but like, they're dead now so) off Coruscant and were coming back as news of order 66 reached them. The jedi was still a padawon herself and was going to meet her master, but he was killed. She was like "alright, I have to protect these kids now" and goes to some random uninhabited planet to keep them safe.

[cloyingcadaver]

x

[whosmariaaa]

— another angsty/ fluffy drabble of this !

college! sukuna loved arguing with you. the entire reason why he’s so head over heels for you, is because you don’t take his shit. at all. that seriously turns a man on.

yes, he promised himself he’d never make you feel really bad ever again. but riling you up is just a little too funny to resist! especially when you fall for it each and every time, because you do kind of have a temper.

you two are in his dorm, arguing about something stupid again. sukuna’d long forgotten what the argument was even about. you secretly did too. now it was just purely because he wasn’t taking you serious.

“do i look like i’m fucking joking to you, sukuna?!” you yelled, seriously pissed off. that disgusting, stupid smirk of his was glued to his face, making your frustration a thousand times worse.

“calm your tits, sweetheart. you’re always so pissy all the time, i worry you’re going to pop a fucking blood vessel,” he mocked.

this jerk! you curled your fists into your hair, and honestly felt like pulling it all out. “what the hell is your problem, you asshole?” you snarled.

he huffed, “you’re my damn problem, y/n. you’re lucky you’re still my girl even with all those anger issues,” sukuna commented, his tone a little more harsh.

he still had a grin on his face, but his insult still hurt all the same. and you barely felt the tears building up in your eyes.

sukuna was a firm champion at getting on your nerves. he found it hilarious, his number one source of entertainment, but you were seriously contemplating pushing him out of the window.

you stared at him, eyes narrowed, nose slightly scrunched. it was quiet for a few seconds. no ordinary person would’ve noticed your eyes getting a little wet, but of course your boyfriend did.

“what? ya gonna fucking cry now over a joke, baby?” he replied meanly. “didn’t take you for a crybaby with all that attitude, hmm?” sukuna added.

okay, sure, he could’ve said worse things, but you still felt hurt. and also stupid for crying, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“whatever, man. go find yourself another girl that isn’t a crybaby then,” you sniffled. at that, sukuna paused, and his grin disappeared.

to him, you had a tendency to be dramatic, but this time, something in his stomach felt off.

you hurriedly grabbed your jacket and raced out the dorm, leaving him behind. you wiped your tears, and just… walked. not to your dorm, not to campus, just no where in particular. you were just strolling through tokyo, through the damn rain.

but after one hour of not replying to his calls or texts, or better yet, coming back, your boyfriend had started losing his shit.

sukuna was a crap boyfriend. he was a mess. but he loved you oh so dearly, even if he struggled to show you. and now he felt even worse knowing he made his poor girl cry on purpose.

the second sukuna knew you weren’t coming back for the night, he grabbed his bike and searched through tokyo’s streets for you.

he spotted you eventually. soaking wet because of the rain. hood up, eyes a little droopy. the sight made his heart feel heavy for some reason.

at the sound of sukuna’s bike, you turned your head slightly. “what?” you snapped.

“c’mere, sweetheart, let me take you home, aight?” he offered. you glared at him, and flipped him off.

“don’t be difficult, baby. i won’t be an ass anymore,” he replied.

you scoffed, “fuck outta here. leave me alone.”

sukuna surpressed a sigh at your response. “drop the fucking attitude, y/n, and get on the fucking bike,” he sneered.

you clicked your tongue, sighed… but complied. you were soaked to the bone, and honestly all you wanted to do was curl into sukuna’s arms again. not like you’d tell him.

the drive to the dorms was mostly silent. at stoplights, he’d rub your thigh with his thumb, but words weren’t really exchanged.

but, eventually sukuna cracked. “sorry, sweetheart. s’my fault for getting you so riled up,” he told you. you sniffled, “it’s okay.”

“it’s not. but i love you. and i know i’m fucking up every single chance i get from you, i fucking know. but i’m trying, okay?” he said. he grabbed your hand, and placed a kiss on it. you didn’t really reply, but sukuna knew you heard him. and for now that was enough.

safe to say, sukuna attempted to not get on your nerves as much anymore. i mean, he still did. everytime you’d yell at him or sass him, his pants would still tighten, but he started listening to you more. that man loved you more than anything, and more than anything did he want to show you.

──★˙🍓̟!! i hate this so much goodbye. idk it’s not bad but i feel like i could’ve done better. i’m sorry babe @fictionalmen4eva i tried my best, but thank you sosoosos much for the request!!!💗 i do feel like sukuna would be his girlfriend’s 1# ragebaiter just bc he can😣

— taglist ! @imlikeacoffeeconnoisseur @stars4you777 @totallygyomeiswife @sukubusss @seizecherry @xlilycoco @v1x3n @go-go-gadget-autism @elizabeth-von-winken-universe @paradisestarfishh @13-09-01 @misticsilver @whosmarjj @seellove @aquariusscollection @satorushousewife @rwirxles @anonnieghost @bitchpleaseeeeeeeeee-blog @iminloveweveryone @poopooindamouf @phisen @ryomku @erintaro @clp-84 @mastermasterlist1p1 @katsukiseyebrows @happy2delivur @jup1tersuccubus @nxcxllxsevens @realalpacorn @kxgumi @crankyarchives @itsjustisa @junitries @kodzukensworld @bnbaochauuu @tomsxslvt @flwerie @bwlol7 @szuuyl @grignardsreagent @yourangel04 🍓

[pyrepostings]

Whumperless Whump Event: Better out than in: Vomiting / “I got your hair, it's fine.”

Free Birds and Fiddlers

cw: alcohol use/hangover, vomiting

~~~

As Kevin slowly came to his senses, the first was taste, and it was not pleasant. Like stale spit and drink aired out into paste overnight.

The second sense was hearing, which he noticed as he rolled over to his back with a groan, that people were talking not too far away. The world swam as he rolled, and instantly regretted it, but decided against rolling back to his side in favor of keeping still and hoping it passes.

The voices eventually came closer.

"Yo, look who's finally awake, right in time for the dawn watch too."

There was far too much sunlight behind his eyelids and the elbow over them for that statement to be true.

"Mmh. Wha' time's it actually?"

"I dunno, like 9am? We have breakfast cooking."

Kevin could tell now that he was on a couch, though an unfamiliar one, and Zander must be leaning over the back of it as he spoke. Kevin grunted an acknowledgment.

"You wanna try sitting up or are ya' good where you are?"

Kevin took a breath, which did little to settle the bile spinning in his stomach. "I think. If I move at all from this spot within the next 2 days I'm going to hurl."

"Hmf. Well there's a bucket in reach."

"Grand."

"Do you want some water?"

Kevin lowered his arm from his eyes, hoping to let them adjust slowly, though that sent a new wave of nausea through him. "S'probab'y a good idea."

When Zander returned with the cup of water, and a mug of tea for good measure, he set them on the coffee table and helped Kevin slowly to a sitting position.

He felt spit pool in this mouth, and a pressure in his head at the motion. He took note of the aforementioned bucket, knowing as important it was to start putting food and water down, the first few probably weren't going to stay down. He reached for the tea.

His fingers still felt numb and clumsy but he managed to bring the mug to his lips, just before the third person in the house rounded the corner into his line of vision.

As soon as the tea touched his lips, his body immediately rejected the mere idea of a possibility of more liquor, and promptly forced him over the bucket, mug guided safely back to the table by Zander and largely unspilt.

"Damn," Zander said to the newcomer. "I didn't realize he would be so disgusted by your face. Or perhaps the tea. He does have very high standards on both accounts."

"Heh, we've all been there. Here's some toast, eggs, and sausage. There's more still in the pan that might still be warm when you can keep it down."

Kevin was too distracted by the acid in his throat and nose, and tears streaming down his face to notice at first who was talking.

It was a scout.

Which meant this wasn't a safe-house.

Which meant he was physically and mentally compromised in a scout's house with his gear suddenly not attached to his body.

He almost hurled again at the flurry of movements to check himself and his immediate surroundings before being steadied by Zander's hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, you're fine. I made sure protocol is followed. Your gear is bundled under the couch. It's just the three of us in the house, no one's touched it who's not allowed to."

"Ah. Ok then. Sorry."

"What, like you've never played guardian for me?"

Kevin was sick again.

"Besides, aren't you Irishmen supposed to hold your liquor better than this?"

Kevin spit out a yellow glob of spit. "Feck off. Its not even like I learned to drink there." I wasn't even 18 yet when I was shipped away, he wanted to add but couldn't with the scout still in earshot.

Instead he sipped the water slowly and nibbled at the eggs, hoping the tea wouldn't cool too quickly.

Eventually the scout went back to the kitchen, likely to eat without the smell of sick ruining his appetite, with a few hospitable words about them staying however long they need. Zander stayed in the room, though a noticeable distance away to eat his own plate.

Masterlist

@whumperless-whump-event

[norristeria]

You're a Strange One ! LN04

SUMMARY 𝄡 Being Oscar's personal assistant is easy. However, you cannot help but think his coworker is the strangest man you've ever met.

PAIRING 𝄡 Lando Norris x Oscar's PA! FemReader

TAGS 𝄡 Fluff.

WORDCOUNT 𝄡 650.

NOTE 𝄡 This is just a little something I had in mind. This is more of a pairing exploration than a real one-shot. I don't know what to make of it, tbh. Do you think this couple has enough potential for a one-shot? <33

-> FIND THE SERIES INSPIRED BY THIS DRABBLE HERE.

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

You never imagined that you'd end up working as Oscar Piastri’s personal assistant after getting your degree in communications summa cum laude.

If your parents had nearly had a heart attack upon seeing their daughter “reduced to a servant” after paying for one of the country’s most prestigious universities, you, on the other hand, had learned to bless this twist of fate.

Because it was indeed fate you had to thank for the way your life had turned out. People underestimated its power far too often, but you had come to cherish it and to welcome it back whenever it decided to reappear.

Fate made its grand entrance in your life one night in 2023, after yet another rejection from talent agencies and management firms. Internships, professional experience, glowing references—none of it seemed to matter to the big corporations. What mattered were connections, and you had none.

That night, you'd had two glasses of red wine, perhaps more, your cheeks streaked with mascara and frustration.

Fate, ironically methodical despite its name, had chosen that precise moment to show up in the form of a job listing on a website whose name you no longer remember. What you did remember, however, was how your eyes widened as you read the salary and perks.

One cover letter, three interviews later, and suddenly your life was split between racetracks, England, and Monaco.

Every day, you thanked fate for putting Oscar Piastri in your path.

He was easy to work with: a coffee without sugar in the morning, a calendar of sporadic appointments to manage—mostly concentrated on race weekends—and very few public appearances outside those. In short, a normal guy, refreshingly different from the awful clients you'd heard horror stories about since entering the strange world of celebrity.

The only blemish—though not quite that, more a curiosity you hadn’t anticipated—was that working for Oscar Piastri meant regularly crossing paths with Lando Norris.

And you didn’t quite know what to make of him, except that he was oh so very strange.

The first time he saw you, he tripped.

You hadn’t even had time to shake his hand, and Oscar hadn’t yet introduced you.

Your eyes met, the Brit blushed furiously, then went sprawling to the ground. You stood frozen before exchanging a baffled look with Oscar, who merely sighed and hauled his friend back to his feet.

The following encounters were no better.

By the third one, you concluded that Lando Norris must have some kind of speech impediment—he couldn’t seem to string two words together around you. Not even to answer simple questions like “How are you?” or “Do you know where Oscar is?”.

Instead, he’d stammer something utterly unintelligible, then vanish, leaving you to wander alone through the endless corridors of the McLaren Technology Centre in search of Oscar.

And now… now he stared. All the time. Without saying a word. You had never felt more awkward in your life.

Even now, you couldn’t escape those green eyes, burning hotter than the Bahrain sun. The McLaren garage was buzzing as the race neared, yet Lando remained still in one corner, eyes locked on you.

Too busy fetching cold towels and water bottles to cool Oscar down, you had ignored him at first. But now that the Australian had his towels, his bottle, his headphones, and his phone, there was nothing left to keep you distracted.

You finally looked up. Your gaze met Lando’s just as he took a sip of water.

Startled, he choked, spraying water all over his engineer—who shouted something you couldn’t quite catch. Lando floundered through an apology, cheeks crimson.

Your eyes met again.

He smiled—sheepishly, like it hurt—and turned around.

Before walking straight into a wall.

You frowned, shook your head and turned your attention back to the race schedule.

Yes. Lando Norris was definitely the strangest man you had ever met.

[mwphisto]

A little pampering never hurt~

A/N: Wearing heels for 6+ hours absolutely destroyed my feet and I’m struggling to walk … so here is a self indulgent Sylus Drabble….

Warning, this post includes: FEET… not in a fetish type of way but there is a lot of foot and foot injury talk lol so just be warned if feet give you the heebie jeebies. Mostly fluff and silly banter so like it’s tame and cute lol

“I thought you said you gave the heels a test run and they were fine, sweetie.”

You had, of course you had. As a woman who was so prone to wearing sneakers, slippers, and the rather controversial croc, you always test ran your heel options before big events. And these ones had been fine! You swore it!

“I did! You even saw me—ouch!” Pain flared through the sole of your foot as Sylus carefully massaged just below your big toe. “Seems like your test was faulty.”

You’d crammed your feet into narrow heels and then walked on uneven pavement, stood more than you sat, and climbed stairs. Of course you were hurting, but man did it suck. “W-well there is nothing to do no-ow!”

Again, you’re flinching from his touch, leg shooting back to pull your foot away but Sylus was faster. “Your feet are swollen, you have bruising, and a few blisters. Those shoes have done more damage to you than a wanderer has.”

You could only muster a pout, you hated that Sylus was touching your feet to begin with. Never mind seeing them in such a decrepit looking state. Beside him was a first aid kit — some bandages, healing ointment with pain relievers inside, some gauze for cushioning, and even ice.

“I-It really isn’t that big of a deal, I’ll be fine I just have to give myself a few hours o-off of th-Jesus Sylus that hurts!” Large fingers dug into the sore junction where your toe connected with the rest of your foot. For a second, you thought the man was trying to break it off.

“Sorry, sorry.” There was no hint of a smirk on his lips either. And much to your horror, he lifted one injured foot to his lips and kissed the top, just below your ankle.

Your hands came up to hide your burning face, thoroughly embarrassed by everything occurring.

“Your feet are so bruised, sweetie. I’m gonna have to ice them before doing anything else.” You could even think straight, mortified by this level of pampering as he set your injured feet back on his lap. “It’ll be cold but it will help with swelling and numbing the nerves. Then I can wrap them nice and tight so the swelling doesn’t come back.”

“Y…yeah okay, sure. Thanks…” you felt like you were chewing on rocks trying to get the words out. Sylus was hiding a smirk as he reached for the ice. It was cute to see you so shy, a sight he felt like he was never graced with.

“Any time, sweetie. But promise me something…” you flinched the second the ice hit your feet, fingers curling into your palms as you tried to breathe through and get used to the sensation. “Sure, anything…!”

“Only I can pick out your shoes from now on. And we’re burning those heels.” You know what? Why not.

“You’ve got a deal!”

[intromortal]

⟢ like it when i call you daddy? ⸝⸝⸝ yang jungwon

oops! your boyfriend finds out you have a raging daddy kink. but he's more than happy to indulge you

this work contains ⋆ smut ⋆ minors do not interact ⋆ daddy kink duh ⋆ shy reader ⋆ menace jungwon ⋆ fingering ⋆ unprotected sex ⋆ creampie ⋆ slight edging ⋆ praise ⋆ brief cockwarming

length ⋆ drabble ⸻ 3.5k words

✷ NIA — barely proofread pls it's 2 am bear with me. i was supposed to finish this yesterday but then someone tried to break into my apartment. hope your weekend was better than mine!

Uh oh. You know that look.

The look Jungwon gives you only when you're in real deep shit, the one that tells you he's not letting you off the hook or negotiating with you no matter what.

It's almost mean in the way only bright and soft eyes can be, like they're not meant to shape into anything that isn't cutesy. It's like he's scrutinizing your eyes as if they were little windows to your soul, no curtains blocking the light shining in. It's a look you've come to assume means 'danger ahead! Tread carefully.'

Mostly because if there's anything Jungwon hates, it has to be you hiding stuff from him. Whether it's silly things like the paper cut you got at work the day before, or how your tires need to be changed—you can handle that yourself just alright, but Jungwon wants to do it all for you—or the bigger, scarier stuff like doubt poking your chest when you spiral thinking about your future, unsure of what your place in the world is supposed to be, or if you have one at all. He hates it all. He wants you to rely on him, open up both your mind and heart to let him in. It's not a matter of needing him, Jungwon knows you're more than capable of doing it all yourself, you've done just that your entire life.

But that's all the more reason to rely on him if you ask him.

He wants to be your rock, your superhero in spandex like the ones you always make fun of when it's a Friday night and older Marvel movies are all that's playing on TV—he thinks being made fun of is okay as long as you're the one laughing. He wants to be your safe haven. A place where you walk in and feel the heaviness dissolve off your shoulders. He wants to be your home.

You shouldn't have to worry about anything because you've worried yourself sick over other people all your life, he needs to be your break.

Jungwon is your judgment free zone, he knows all your deepest secrets, no matter how embarrassing. He checks for spots you can't quite reach when you think something is off with your body—and he tells you that no, it's not a terminal illness, you'll be fine—no matter how disgusting. He has seen you dazed, hair messy and eyeliner somehow down to your cheeks after a night out. Even washed your face for you when you couldn't and patiently did your skincare because he knew you would complain about your skin feeling dry in the morning otherwise. He has made love to you in every way, in every position, no matter how unflattering. And he still loves you, still thinks you're the most gorgeous being walking on the sun dried tufts of grass that make up Earth. Though if you ask him, the sun is all the way down here and not up in the sky anymore, the one there is just a less impressive copy.

So when you keep things from him, it stings extra.

You lay underneath him, eyes as big as a fawn, staring right up into his scrutinizing gaze. And he's giving you that look, so you might as well start praying up to anyone who will listen.

"Oh? You like that?" Jungwon's hand slides under your shirt, slowly caressing the skin it was just tickling mercilessly moments ago. "Now, that's new. How come you didn't let me in your little secret until now, mhh?"

You don't really have a top 5 worst ways in which your boyfriend could find out you have an embarrassing, raging daddy kink, but if you had one, you imagine 'whimpering after he jokingly says 'be still and good for daddy' while play fighting' would be up there at the top.

"I… uhm. I don't….?" It sounds more like a question than anything else, and the wicked grin overtaking Jungwon's face only makes you want to shrink back into the mattress further.

He looks to the side, shaking his head slightly as his tongue pokes out between his teeth. The corners of his mouth are upturned, but it's not warm or playful like his smile usually is—it doesn't make the sides of his eyes crinkle like you love.

If keeping things from him is a no-go, outright lying might be ten times worse.

So, you bargain. "It's just… you know. Took me by surprise. You don't seem the type of—"

Your sentence is interrupted by a squeal of surprise as he grabs your thigh and drags you down the bed, crawling over you possessively. He reaches for your arm, bringing it to his lips so he can trail his way down with soft kisses, so unlike the energy emanating from him. He kisses your palm sweetly, it makes your head spin like you've been thrown off your balance. "I'm not the type to?"

He's encouraging you to finish your thought, but you have half the idea that by doing that, you'll only dig your grave further, so you choose silence.

"That's what I thought." Jungwon bends down, gaze still boring into your eyes and mouth hovering so close to yours you can feel the words before you can hear them. "I'm the type to do everything for you. I thought you knew by now."

Of course, you do. He makes it pretty clear every waking hour of the day. But the little title that has heat rushing right to your cheeks just thinking about it, is something you never found the courage to be open about, even to Jungwon. As silly as it sounds, the thought of giving someone else so much power, complete control over you feels impossible, even when it's what your deepest and most hidden self craves most.

"I know. It just felt silly and—oh."

"Keep talking. Don't let me stop you." Jungwon noses the skin of your neck, taking in your scent like he might forget it if he doesn't, like it's the last chance he has to do so. Jungwon's love is often like this, given to you in subtle but passionate gestures, ones he bestows onto you as if he might bleed out if he doesn't.

Your insides stir, heavy and hot in your lower stomach and the air almost feels too thick to breathe in, but you push through. Even when Jungwon's hand slides lower and lower until it reaches your shorts—if you can even call them that. "I thought, what if you don't like it. What if it makes me seem weird."

"I like what you like." You visibly shiver when he speaks into your ear, the warmth of his breath ticklish. He gently nibs the shell of your ear.

"But what if—"

"No what ifs, pretty girl. What you want, I give you. What you dream of, I give you." He looks down at you, his elbow bent to support his head. "Your deepest fantasies, I fulfill. Is that clear?"

You nod, looking at him with such sincerity and vulnerability in your eyes he almost coos at the sight.

"Good girl." Jungwon kisses your temple, and you don't know if it's the action itself or the praise, or maybe a little bit of both, but your muscles are more relaxed and your chest feels all fuzzy. The hand playing with the waistband of your shorts finally slides to cup your heat through your panties, his dainty but long fingers molding perfectly to your mound. He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, gently smiling into the little nibbles he teases your skin with. They're hardly painful, his teeth not leaving marks behind. Not that they need to, your form quivering underneath his body is already enough. "Let daddy take care of his baby, yeah?"

You cover your face with your hands, embarrassed by the effects his words have on you. It only spurs Jungwon further though, because soon his hand is pulling your completely soaked panties to the side, slowly teasing your folds with his digits. "You're all shy, but she's so happy to see me." He smiles against your cheek, then dips down to litter your neck in open mouthed kisses, happily sighing when you adjust yourself to give him easier access.

"You're so lame," you say from behind your hand still covering your face.

"Oh baby, don't be jealous. You're both my princesses." Jungwon finally dips his fingers lower, teasing your dripping hole slowly with just the tips. He collects the wetness seeping out of you and spreads it all over your pussy, not even trying to dull the obscene sounds his action make. "You're so fucking wet, it's like she's talking back to me," he slurs his words, quiet as to not interrupt the ones coming from below. "And you wanted to deprive me of this?"

He keeps playing with you, relishing in the little sounds both you and your pussy make. His fingers move slowly, deliberately avoiding your clit.

"Jungwon, please," you whine, but the way his lips shape into a grin you can quite literally feel against your neck tells you he wants something from you first. And you have an idea of what it is.

"Wrong name, try again."

Of course.

You're not ready to give in yet though, so you decide to push his buttons for a little longer. "Please?"

The last thing you hear before Jungwon yanks his hand out of your shorts, much to your despair, is a venomous tch that has you seriously reconsider your previous actions. You know him well, so you know if you want to come you're gonna have to abide by his rules. Still, that doesn't stop embarrassment from growing in your stomach more, and more.

His movements are a lot less careful, making quick work of his fitted shirt and sweats, his boxers coming right off with them. Maybe it's the sight of his leaking cock, standing tall and angry against his lower abdomen, or maybe it's just wishful thinking, but despite your mind knowing better, your heart hopes for a few seconds that maybe, just maybe, you have irritated him past the point of punishment.

Jungwon grabs your shorts and panties, sliding them off your legs with a single movement and discards them somewhere on the hardwood floor of your room. It's fast and unceremonious, but the second his warm hand touches your thigh again you understand you got it all wrong. "That's okay. If you're too shy to call me daddy, I'll just have to fuck the shyness out of you."

You mewl when his hands slide up to the back of your knees, pushing them against your chest. The position is a little awkward, but you believe that's exactly what Jungwon is going for. "Here, hold your own legs up like this. Yeah, exactly like that. See? You can be good when you wanna be."

The stretch in your thighs burns, but it's close to nothing when the realization that Jungwon is making you hold onto your legs so you can't hide your face anymore sets in. Sneaky.

Jungwon, on the other hand, admires you with no reservation. Your cunt is completely exposed, like you've handed it to him on a silver platter, and now you have nowhere to hide. He has half a mind to sink down on his knees in front of the bed and eat you out until you're raw and cannot physically come anymore, but he said he would fuck you and he keeps his promises. Besides, he wants to see your face when you finally give in and call him daddy for the first time.

His knees dip into the mattress, the bed creaking with the weight put on it, but your own heartbeat thumps so loud in your ears you miss it. Jungwon takes his sweet time in reaching you, nothing like the urgency in his movements when he undressed you both. He knows you're waiting with bated breath for his next step, it's just another way to punish you for your disobedience. His hands roam your naked body, and he pushes your legs into your chest further, displeased with your loosening grip on them. He gives you a wordless, pointed look, and your hands immediately hold onto the back of your thighs harder.

"Pretty," Jungwon compliments your cunt, glistening and dripping right onto the bed sheets. His gaze is carefully scrutinizing every single part of you, but you know better than to try to shy away. "So, so beautiful. I don't know why you wanna hide from daddy."

"I'm not hiding," you whine in protest. Because, really, you're trying your best not to.

He grabs his length, leaking precum at the thick tip. You want to get a better look at it, so you try to take a peek, your back falling on the mattress again after a mere moment of struggle. That earns an airy, honest giggle from Jungwon, and it has your insides fluttering. It's so easy for him to get a reaction out of you, whatever he does makes you all tingly, whether it's because of fondness or lust. And by the quick look you got at his cock he's not much better off, you can't recall a time you have seen him this red and wet, ready to be inside you from just a little kissing and touching. Which is saying a lot, because Jungwon gets flushed quite easily.

The thought makes you feel a little less embarrassed.

Jungwon taps his cock on your clit a few times, each one sending a jolt of pleasure right through your spine. That tiny amount of stimulation is all he gives to your poor neglected bundle of nerves, and he moves his thick tip downwards, rubbing it repeatedly between your folds. All you can do is throw your head back, teeth poking your bottom lip in an attempt to silence the sounds threatening to spill out of your mouth.

He sighs in delight as your juices coat him, mixing with his precum. His eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, his mouth twisted in a way that makes a dimple pop up on his cheek as he keeps rubbing his cock on your cunt, loving the sight of your nails digging into your thighs to leave tiny half moon indentations. Look at you doing the marking yourself.

"I already take care of you, make sure you're well rested, handle whatever I can to take the load off your shoulders," Jungwon says, never stopping his movements against your heat. "I fuck you so good all the time, take my time with your pretty pussy when I have the chance. Take such good care of you both." He falters for one second, when he accidentally lowers his tip just a smidge too much and ends up rubbing it over your clenching hole. He keeps his cock there, pushing in so slightly you almost miss it, just to take it out and repeat the motions. "I wanna be a part of all your fantasies, would do anything to make you come as hard as I can." He sinks into your heat more this time, just enough to let the stretch of his tip pushing in register for you. "So why won't you be a good girl for daddy and address me by my title? I know you want to."

Jungwon's hips slowly push his cock into you, his mouth open in a silent moan as inch by inch you welcome him into your snug cunt. He's been obsessed with the feeling of that first thrust inside you ever since the first time he slid into you, it's the one thing he always takes his time with, even when he's mad or frustrated and ready to pound into you until you can barely feel your legs anymore.

That's usually what the dangerous look he gave you earlier entails, but this time it's different. His pace doesn't suddenly increase once he fills you to the hilt, reaching so deep inside you, any more would feel like too much. He keeps it slow, but steady, enjoying the way you clench against him, enjoying the view you're giving him with your body bent to accommodate him. He fucks you deep, the position you're in allowing him to reach so deep inside you stars dance across your vision. His pelvis rubs against your clit so deliciously a tiny bit of spit dribbles down your chin from the corner of your mouth. You can feel every inch, every vein, every ridge, and it's mouthwatering.

It's so good, you can feel yourself building up to the peak you want to reach so badly in no time, forgetting why you're in the position you are in the first place.

"Jungwon—" you whine, and he stops his thrusts almost immediately, his deliciously thick length pulling all the way back, his tip the only thing left in you. The loss is unbearable, and you wiggle your hips as if to coax more of his cock back into you again, all to no avail.

"No, no, no baby, who am I?"

You feel like crying, and a single tear does slip out of your eye, gravity making it fall somewhere on the bed. Jungwon doesn't care though, not when you refuse to give him what he wants to hear.

He moves his hips teasingly, as if to bait you to give in, he fucks you gently with just the tip, over and over again, careful to not give you too much. "C'mon baby, I know you can do it."

You clench around his tip, silently begging for more. More that will never come if you don't give in, and you know it. It's on the tip of your tongue, and you want to give in so badly.

So you do. "Please, daddy."

Your voice is low, barely above a whisper, but Jungwon hears you loud and clear, and it's enough for him.

His hips plunge against yours, and you gasp when you feel his thick cum fill you up so unexpectedly. He barely moves, coaxing spur after spur of seed as he empties himself inside of you. Your walls flutter against his sensitive cock, and your hips twitch when he suddenly moves his thumb over your puffy clit, rubbing rough circles on it while he keeps fucking his own cum inside you.

"Good girl, milking me dry like this, yeah baby, keep doing that." His voice is rough and thick, sending pleasure right to your belly. You feel so full, so warm, as his movements never falter, even when his cock is raw from overstimulation.

"Daddy, 'am close."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, baby. Coming again, need you to come too." Even more cum fills you up at the name, and when Jungwon buries himself all the way in, thumb still circling your clit, and presses down with his other hand right on the bulge on your tummy, searing white blindness hits you for a moment as you come undone around him. His moans sound beautiful as you rhythmically clench around his thickness in your ecstasy, his thumb still working you through your orgasm.

It keeps going for longer than it ever has, your toes bent as if it's the only thing keeping you grounded while waves of pleasure keep crashing through you.

Jungwon slows down, but never pulls out of you completely, keeping his cum plugged inside of you. You're not holding onto your legs anymore, and his body gives in on top of you with one last teasing thrust, crushing you a little with his weight.

"Hey," you protest, still in the process of catching your breath.

"Mhh." He nuzzles his forehead against yours, uncaring for the sweat sticking you together. "That was good."

You giggle, a light feeling washing over you, spreading from your chest to your limbs in soothing waves. "Yeah, I think you liked me calling you daddy a little too much."

You feel lightheaded, in a good way. And in Jungwon's arms, you know you're as safe as you could ever be. It fills your heart with longing, even if he's right there with you.

Jungwon wraps his arms around you, spinning you both around on the messy bed sheets, quickly switching up your positions so you're on top of him, your head resting right on his chest.

His heartbeat, slowly going back to being steady, gently lulls you to sleep, even when the sun outside shines in through your window and casts the shadows of the windowsill plants over the tangled mess your and Jungwon's legs make up. He kisses your forehead once, then again, slowly aligning his softening cock to slide back into you. "Maybe. You should've done that sooner."

[httpsserene]

mama y papa — 𝐥𝐧. 𝟒 & 𝐨𝐩. 𝟖𝟏 lando norris x baker/pastry chef! fem!black!reader & platonic oscar piastri drabbles & smau. fluff & humor. reader owns & works ather bakery in monaco.

synopsis: you and lando are blessed with a beautiful baby boy.

༊࿐ ⊹ ˚. i took it too far this time. it's long aslllll. but it might be the best thing i've ever offered to f1 tumblr in my entire career. grab a snack, drink, and tuck yourself into a comfortable position xxx

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imessage • preseason 2023

That’s how you find yourself outside of the MTC in the mid-morning two days later. You’re mildly…exhausted, after commandeering the kitchen in Lando’s Silverstone flat to make a sickening amount of banana bread to feed all of McLaren. After tipping your Uber to the MTC double what the ride costs (for allowing you to stuff his car with a hundred pounds of your decadent treat and helping you unload them into the lobby), you’re greeted with warm welcomes and hungry eyes from the staff. Eager to eat, they’re quick to find you a couple of carts to help you move all the banana bread to the communal area. You’re walking backward to make sure none of your sliced loaves fall, smiling with all the workers as they follow you through the building. Setting up shop, you hand out your sliced banana bread, chatting and catching up with everyone as they sing praises over your sweet treat. Word travels around the MTC quickly when it comes to you bringing baked goods and it comes as no surprise to you when you see a perplexed and overwhelmed Oscar Piastri join the line. You’re bursting with excitement and anticipation by the time he’s picking up his slice.

“Thank you for the banana bread,” Oscar expresses softly, his smile boxy.

“Oh, of course,” you dismiss his gratitude lightly, struggling to keep your cuteness aggression at bay, “I’ve been doing this for the factory since Lando joined–and I figured it would be a good welcoming gift for you!”

“Wait–are you Lando’s girlfriend?” Oscar chokes on his bite of bread.

You rush forward to pat his back, ordering for someone to get him a glass of water; you would hate to be responsible for the death of Mclaren’s rookie driver. When his airways are cleared, you exchange proper greetings and you are quick to make sure Lando has been treating him well. 

“Honestly, I should’ve known it was you” Oscar chuckles, “Lando cannot stop talking about you. Zak had to establish a rule that only allowed him to mention you two times an hour.”

“That must have been rough for him,” you snort dryly, “the rule was five times an hour last year. Anyways, Oscar–who do you main on Mario Kart? This could make or break our friendship.”

You find yourself enamored with Oscar as the conversation goes on. He stands and keeps you company as you continue to hand out banana bread. It’s mostly you doing the talking; Oscar’s quiet, a man of few words but he listens well. He has a sarcastic sense of humor that is similar to Lando’s yet completely different: Lando’s jokes are loud, Oscar’s are hushed. He’s humble, shy even, flustering when you lightly tease him. You’re well past having Oscar as your friend—you’re convinced that he’s achieved little brother or son status.

“Banana Bread!” Zak shouts as he walks up to the two of you, Lando at his side, “Please tell me this is your homemade version?”

“I would never settle for store-bought banana bread,” you gasp dramatically, “It’s homemade as always, Zak. This time I did my grandmother’s recipe instead of my own.”

The CEO practically jumps with glee and rushes to grab a couple of slices–he’s only had this version of the dessert once, and swore it changed his life. Lando walks to you, pressing a kiss to your temple before nodding at Oscar.

“What do you think, love, “Lando hums to you softly, “Did he pass the test?”

You blink up at him and whisper, “I invited him over for dinner tonight—do you think we can use one of the printers here to print out adoption forms?”

bahrain • 2023

After qualifying, it felt like you and Zak were the only people in the garage who remained optimistic for race day. Lando was less than pleased with placing 11th; he parroted words of positivity and hope for improvement but in the privacy of your hotel room he crumbled. He buried his face in your neck muffling just how low his expectations for this season are. You tried to convince him it was too early in the season—the first race weekend—to make that decision but, he was too in his feelings to see reason. 

Oscar was disappointed in himself for placing 18th. When he took off his helmet after returning to the garage, you could see the doubt in his skills lingering through his eyes. You pulled him to sit with you as you continued to wait for the second session to begin and gently reassured him that this wasn’t an accurate representation of his skills; Formula One is a massive change from Formula Two. Oscar nodded at your reassurance but you could tell he was still freshly in shock at his “terrible” performance so your logical advice wasn’t believed. 

On race day, however, you found your positivity dip as well. Oscar DNF’d on lap 13 and rage filled the spot that optimism used to inhabit. The Australian was handling his retirement better than you were; he brushed off everybody’s apologies and went straight to reviewing his data and watching Lando’s race—you, however, wanted to snap at any of his mechanics that walked by. It wasn’t like Lando’s race was any better if you could call what he was doing a race. Slow pit stops, six pit stops at that, the fast lap gamble failure, finishing last, and being two laps down from the race leader…Zak took one glance at you and quickly made himself scarce.

You rode back with both of the boys to the hotel and nearly cried for them with how down the mood was. On the walk to your rooms, Oscar attempted to exchange goodbyes with you and Lando before you cut him off.

“Uh-uh, nope,” you shook your head, “I pre-ordered dinner for us. Come eat?”

Oscar stuttered, “O-oh? I don’t want to intrude–”

“Oscar Jack Piastri,” both he and Lando winced at the sound of his full name, “I’m not going to let either one of you go to bed on an empty stomach. You’re going to eat dinner with me and Lan and you’re going to drink several glasses of water so I can make sure you’re properly rehydrated. Understood?”

“I would love to have dinner with you guys,” Oscar blinked at you in fear, “Also, how do you know my middle name?”

You laughed as you unlocked the door, holding it open for both of the boys as you walked in, “I had a wonderful conversation with your mother, of course.”

“When did you meet my mom?!”

australia • 2023

You were on the edge of losing your voice as you screamed and cheered with Nicole Piastri and Adam Norris for both of the McLaren boys and their double points finishes. The two drivers finishing in the midfield felt like the team had figured something out for Oscar’s home race (if you ignored how almost half of the drivers retired their cars). The Piastri’s invited everyone to a local restaurant to celebrate Oscar’s first points in Formula One, but before you and Lando headed out, the two of you nearly lost your minds.

The two of you forced him to pose with his car and take several pictures with it, strongly suggesting that he smiles big and wide for the camera. Fernando and Lewis walked by and burst into laughter, claiming that you and Lando were treating Oscar like a child. So, obviously, the two of you committed to the bit. You guys cooed and called Oscar’s name, clapping and jumping to pretend like he was a toddler whose attention needed to be grabbed to have him look at the camera. The rookie cringed in embarrassment, cheeks burning red as he tried to convince you guys to stop making a fuss over him.

Lando gasped, sickened at Oscar’s words, “Oscar! How could you say such a thing to your mother and me? We only want to celebrate our boy!”

You nodded furiously in agreement, nearly breaking character at the dumbfounded look that rose to the Australian’s face.

“What the fuck,” Oscar blurted out, yet he continued to smile for your camera.

“Oh my god!” You said appalled, “Lando did you teach our son that foul language?! I told you not to curse in front of the baby!”

instagram • bakewithyn • april 6th • melbourne ⚑

liked by, oscarpiastri, landonorris, mclaren, markwebber, and 413,257 others

bakewithyn: happy birthday oscar 🥳 there’s no birthday gift like scoring your FIRST EVER POINTS in f1 at your HOME race but !!! i’m super happyyy you enjoyed the 🐨 cookies i made for you (lando helped ig 😐) 🤗🤗🤗

tagged oscarpiastri

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📌 yninstagram ps! these are limited edition cookies at my bakery for oscar piastri day!!! first come first serve until sell out! all proceeds go to the australian koala foundation as it was oscar’s personal request 😇

➥ user charitable king shit fr 👑

➥ user FUCK i wish i was rich enough to visit/live in monaco

➥ user don't worry, they're nearly sold out already and the bakery opened three hours ago !!!!

nicolepiastri these were so tasty! i wish i had your baking skills

➥ yninstagram tysm mama piastri !!! i'm blushing

➥ user mama piastri???? im crying

user the koala photo with the bow 😩

➥user what r u talking about?? i only see a picture of oscar with a bow?

➥ user fr i only see oscar 😵‍💫

user "lando helped ig" what did he do? look pretty the entire time you baked LMAO

➥ landonorris actually i was allowed to put the ingredients in the bowls AND preheat the oven too 😤

➥ landonorris and i always look pretty wtf

➥ user omg...yn gave him the toddler tasks 💀💀💀

oscarpiastri the cookies were so good! they nearly tasted better than my first points felt

➥ yninstagram omg high praise from the man himself 🤯

➥ oscarpiastri had to fight my sisters to make sure they didn't only leave me with crumbs

➥ user oh i understand that eldest sibling battle

➥ user my little sisters bite i think they have rabies

➥ user oh what a shame. euthanasia is an option 🤗

miami • 2023

The energy after Miami was rightfully terrible. The car is shit; Lando lost a position from where he qualified to make him P17 and Oscar maintained his P19. It’s hot, and humid, and everyone in the garage is miserable. McLaren is a family. When the boys don’t do good, everybody understands and feels their pain. Nobody likes seeing the boys with frowns on their lips and sadness in their eyes, but it’s becoming a usual appearance during this season. So to turn those frowns upside down, you went on a hunt for some cold treats. You got Lando a frozen lemonade and Oscar an ice cream sandwich—it’s a safe choice, you hadn’t necessarily thought about asking him what kind of ice cream he prefers. 

You found Oscar staring at the wall, eyes focused forward but his mind somewhere else. You tapped him gently on the shoulder, offering him a small smile when he looked at you. He tried to offer you a smile of his own but couldn’t manage to hold it for more than a couple seconds. You presented the ice cream sandwich to him and he looked at you in surprise, as if he couldn’t believe you would give it to him.

“F-for,” his voice cracks awkwardly, “For me?”

You hummed, ruffling his hair and taking a seat on the couch next to him, “No, for the King of England. Yes–for you Oscar.”

He thanked you shyly and quickly began to unwrap the packaging, munching away happily. You took a second to text Lando your location and inform him of the frozen lemonade waiting for him, and when you turned to look back at Oscar—the kid was a mess. He wasn’t even a quarter of the way through the dessert sandwich and you’re convinced he managed to spill more of it than he ingested. The ice cream was painted across the lower half of his face and dripping down his hands–you caught a drop of it with a napkin before it fell and stained his shirt.

“Jesus, Oscar!” you scolded him, “I look away for two seconds and you make a mess!”

Oscar shrugged at you, feigning innocence, but you saw the staple redness of embarrassment begin to tint his chubby cheeks. You snapped your fingers in remembrance before you moved to rifle through your purse, Oscar staring at you with wide eyes as he continued to snack away. You exclaimed in delight, showing off a pair of wet wipes you remembered to bring with you. Oscar accepted the offered wipes and you watched carefully to make sure he removed all the smudges of ice cream from his hands and face.

“Hi, lovely girl,” Lando approached you, throwing himself onto the sofa next to you. He gave you a soft kiss on the lips and temple before grabbing his now lemonade slushy and taking a look at Oscar.

“Woah, mate,” Lando teased, “Did you lose in a fight against the ice cream sandwich?”

Oscar rolled his eyes and ignored Lando as he finished cleaning up. Once he was done, you gathered all of the dirty wipes on the table to be thrown away. You and Lando both watched Oscar as he ate the rest of his snack in fear of another mess occurring—and, then you had a bright idea. Leaning forward, you took a dry napkin and tucked it into the collar of his McLaren polo, creating a makeshift bib. 

“Lando, remind me to get our son ice cream in a cup from now on!”

twitter • may 14th

instagram • landonorris • may 23rd • monte carlo ⚑

liked by, bakewithyn, charlesleclerc, fernandoalonso, and 502,113 others

landonorris: does it still count as a date night if your boy and his best friend are building legos in the next room🤨

tagged bakewithyn, oscarpiastri, logansargeant

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user "your boy" WTF DOES THAT MEAN ‼️‼️‼️

user they're building legos before the race weekend starts 🤧

user has oscar been staying with lando since last week?

➥ user i thought he was just sleeping over for one night 🧐

adamnorris does this make me a grandfather?

➥ user what the hell is happening

➥ landonorris um? surprise haha 😀

bakewithyn it's a great date night! it's comforting knowing ozzy's in the next room over

➥ bakewithyn i have separation anxiety :)

➥ landonorris me too omg this was my best idea ever

➥ user this is like a reverse 13th reason- it's like my 1st reason i'm glad to be alive

➥ user ozzy 🫠

landonorris logan and osc just went silent. chat, should i be worried?

➥ user i'll bet my life savings that one of them has a lego shoved up their nose 😬

➥ user when kids go quiet it's never good !!!!

qatar • 2023

You cried an embarrassing amount of times this weekend. Your son won his first sprint race in his Formula One career, and his father—your boyfriend—was up there on the podium with him to celebrate. It seems like you have to make another special dessert for your bakery to celebrate both of your boys, but you can worry about brainstorming ideas when you stop crying into Andrea Stella’s shoulder in the middle of the pit lane. You’re sure that your face will be posted all over Twitter in a couple of hours.

A part of you wished that Lando had won the sprint race, just as he probably wanted the same thing. But, as both of you made eye contact with each other over Oscar’s head, the Australian rambling endlessly as he hugged his trophy on your hotel room floor, both of you knew that there was no better outcome this weekend than Oscar getting a taste of victory. Lando’s win will come in due time. A P2, P3 finish on Sunday was just the proof everyone needed of McLaren’s improvement and the threat they may pose to Red Bull next year. 

são paulo • 2023

You had the Grand Prix playing on your phone as you did some prep work for the bakery. The race ended and you couldn’t help but feel happy, yet relieved for the race to be over for different reasons. Lando had a wonderful drive today, and Oscar had the opposite; you were just glad it wasn’t a DNF for him.

You had only just begun wiping down the counters when the sound of the post-race show is interrupted by the ringtone you have set for Oscar. You paused quickly, scooping your phone up to answer.

“Hi, Ozzy,” you cooed gently, “How are you feeling? Sorry about your race buddy, that was unfortunate.”

“It happens, I guess. I feel like shit, mostly. Like I let the team down.”

“No way, Oscar! You’re not letting anybody down. Your race result today wasn’t the result of your skills, it was the result of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was a racing incident. If anybody tells you differently, let me know. I’ll rip their vocal cords out.”

Oscar’s laugh crackled through the receiver. “Yes, mum. I’ll let you know. I really want some of your chocolate chip cookies, they’re the perfect bad race remedy.”

“Well, I’m flying out in a few hours to meet you guys in Brazil so I can celebrate Lando’s—sorry, excuse me—your father’s birthday with him. I think there may be some time for me in my schedule to make some cookies with you.”

“Really? We should make some for Lando too! Wait, before you leave, I left his birthday gift—”

“—In our apartment, I remember! I already packed it in my luggage, I wouldn’t forget.”

“You’re the best, seriously.”

“Mhm, I know. Also, we should share some of these cookies with Charles too, his radio message made me cry.”

“Okay, he can have one cookie.”

“Oscar Jack,” you said dryly.

“Yes, sharing is caring or whatever. He can have like...two.”

instagram • bakewithyn • november 13th • las vegas ⚑

liked by, mclaren, landonorris, f1, oscarpiastri and 353,764 others

bakewithyn: happy birthday to lando norris. he's a pretty cool guy, a great dad, and the perfect boyfriend. love you lots, baby, and i'll love you forever xxx

tagged landonorris

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user wait is this a pregnancy announcement 😨

user this is giving engagement reveal

charlesleclerc bro. if i didn't know you guys i would think your caption was serious 😣

➥ bakewithyn get pranked LOL XD

➥ user oh i feel like i just got catfished

➥ user wait so lando didn't propose nor did he put a baby in her 😒

➥ user I WANTED A BABY NORRIS

➥ user oscar exists? he's literally their child

oscarpiastri no fr i thought i was about to learn i had a sibling otw from this post

➥ bakewithyn ozzy we would've told you???

➥ landonorris you literally bought the card for me

➥ oscarpiastri a boy can hope for a younger sibling can he not :(

➥ bakewithyn so close 😚 no you can't! hope that helps xo

➥ landonorris sorry osc, it's your mum's decision 🤷‍♂️

➥ user does this mean lando wants an actual kid

mclaren admin was terrified ngl 😅

➥ mclaren i thought you really posted an engagement and pregnancy reveal without letting me know 😭

➥ landonorris sorry admin, i'll keep you in the loop in the future

➥ user landoyn engagement soon??????

twitter • november 18th • las vegas ⚑

twitter • preseason 2024

miami • 2024

Lando had you pinned to the wall in his driver's room, with his hands tangled in your curls and his mouth devouring yours. Your moans are muffled into his lips as you grind against his thigh. You tried to multitask, struggling to pull his driver’s suit down. Lando lifted you slightly, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist and neither of you cared to pull away at the sound of your foot hitting his P1 trophy and knocking it over. One of his hands fell from your hair to grasp at the smooth brown skin of your neck, his palm acting as a warm weighted choker on your throat and you broke away from the kiss to moan. 

“Fuck, Lando—get naked,” you whined desperately, “we don’t have much time for you to tease me right now!”

Lando laughed as he moved to press kisses along your jawline and behind your ear. You felt his lips part on your skin, his breath ghosting over you causing goosebumps to rise, but it’s not his voice you hear.

“Lando, they need us for pictures—OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK,” yelped Oscar, the sound of his hand smacking over his eyes reverberating around the room.

You shrieked in surprise, pushing your boyfriend away from you as you speedily readjusted your clothes. Lando positioned himself in front of you, his back facing you allowing you a little more privacy as he speedily fixed his suit around his waist.

“Learn how to knock, kid,” Lando huffed, no shame found in his words, “You interrupted my winning celebration.”

You screamed in dismay, slapping the back of Lando’s head and Oscar began to stumble out of the room, bumping into the doorframe as he still covered his eyes.

“Yeah, knock in the future, I understand,” Oscar sounds like he’s about to cry, “I feel like I just saw my mum and dad having sex!”

instagram • bakewithyn • may 12th • mama's house ⚑

liked by oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris, and 551,012 others

bakewithyn: LOOK AT MY SON 🥺🥺 PRIDE IS NOT THE WORD IM LOOKING FOR 🗣️🗣️🔊🔊 (happy mother's day to all the beautiful mamas x)

tagged oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri did dad get you anything 🙃

➥ user 👀👀👀

➥ landonorris well i would've if SOMEBODY told me we were celebrating this year 🤬🤬🤬🤬

➥ oscarpiastri i didn't know i *had* to tell you

➥ user wowwwww lando

➥ user shameful honestly 😕

markwebber happy milf day

➥ markwebber *mother's day sorry typo

➥ bakewithyn what the fuck ☠️☠️☠️

➥ user that was not a typo mark

➥ user sir u are not slick LMAO

➥ bakewithyn i mean...oscar wouldn't mind a step dad, his fatther didn't get me anything today :(

➥ landonorris AYO BABY PLEASE 🧎‍♂️

oscarpiastri you know what would be an even better mother's day gift? getting a puppy 🤭

➥ bakewithyn we are not getting a puppy ozzy.

➥ landonorris should've clued me in osc i might've convinced her for you

➥ oscarpiastri :[

monaco • 2024

You’re about to crash THE FUCK out. At first, it was a little half-joke. Oscar’s home race in Australia, his 1/16th home race in China, and his 3/16th home race in Italy. You originally thought his tweet about “searching for his Monegasque roots” was cute, but you didn’t expect Charles Marc Herve Perceval (Demon Spawn) Leclerc to step into your playing field.

Who the hell does he think he is? Offering to adopt your son? And, Oscar is going along with it? And, the Miami Grand Prix account making a “Certificate of Adoption?” You started to like Miami after Lando won there; and now they’ve betrayed you. Every fan jumped on the bandwagon, thinking that this was the most adorable thing to happen. Like Oscar hasn’t been your child the minute he stepped foot into the MTC in Silverstone. Like he didn’t give you a Mother’s Day present? The Monegasques have some nerve; you were close with Charles and Alex but, now they’ve encroached on your and Lando’s territory. You’re committing several murders today. 

You laughed hysterically when Oscar joined Lando and you for lunch, mentioning that Charles and Alex invited him to eat with the rest of the Leclercs at family dinner after qualifying. You agreed to let him but not without making sure Charles and Alex are qualified for the job. Lando also cornered you in the kitchen and persuaded you to allow Oscar to go; swaying you with the idea of a real date night. You never realized just how much time you guys spend with your son. When’s the last time you guys had a break from being “mum and dad?" It was an appealing offer, but you were serious about clarifying expectations to the thieving couple.

twitter • may 25th • monaco

instagram • bakewithyn • may 25th • date night ⚑

liked by charlesleclerc, landonorris, nicolepiastri and 236,978 others

bakewithyn: a little night off from parenting was needed x

tagged landonorris

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user okay mamiiiii

user all parents deserve to relax !!!

oscarpiastri do you even miss me ☹️

➥ user damn he goin through it

➥ charlesleclerc i literally just got him to smile and now he's crying again 😒

➥ landonorris your mum and i love you lots osc

➥ oscarpiastri :]

alexandrasaintmleux take full advantage of having no children in the house 😈😈😈

➥ charlesleclerc leo will keep him distracted for as longggg as possible 😏

➥ user lando only needs about three minutes 🥱

➥ user wow that's a really long time fr

oscarpiastri mama y papa

➥ user mama y papa

➥ user mama y papa

➥ user mama y papa

instagram • landonorris • june 16th • daddy's home ⚑

liked by oscarpiastri, angryginge, bakewithyn and 436,812 others

landonorris: father's day done right. my child and his mother made a cake for me, family photo slide two, and my son slide three. what more can a man want.

tagged bakewithyn and oscarpiastri

view comments

user this man never misses a chance to call himself daddy

user too fucking funny 🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️

bakewithyn happy father's day, daddy xxx

➥ user OHMYGOD 😖🤢🤮

➥ user on my internet⁉️⁉️⁉️

➥ landonorris even happier now x

user this new wave of parents concerns me...

oscarpiastri the cake was good wasn't it???

➥ landonorris it was perfect, seriously

➥ oscarpiastri i know you both said there's no way we'd get a puppy but hear me out i've thought of something better

➥ oscarpiastri working on giving me a younger sibling :]

➥ user YES BABY NORRIS ‼️‼️‼️

➥ landonorris @/bakewithyn ?

➥ bakewithyn ask me again in a couple of years

© httpsserene - do not reupload. photos in header image are from pinterest. divider by @cafekitsune.

[ramp-it-up]

Good Morning

Summary: You leave bed before Bucky can say good morning.

Word count: 1.8 K

Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: This drabble is in the Knock You Down AU, and is the answer to this ask. Please let me know how you feel by commenting, reblogging, and interacting. 😉

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Smut! Frumoasă is pregnant, Bucky is feral. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

_____

If Bucky could mainline you straight to his veins, he would. He woke up feening and alone.

The moment he stepped into his en suite that morning, which was your bathroom now too, a primal pull drew him on a string to you. 

You were standing at the mirror trying to tame your hair in just white cotton panties and Bucky’s dress shirt from the day before, partly for use as a robe, but mostly for his smell.

At the sight of you in his shirt, diamond on your finger, pregnant with his child, something in his chest tightened. 

Mine he thought.

You tried to focus on fixing your hair, but the weight of his gaze on you in the mirror was distracting as hell. There were a few other things that had changed about you in the last few weeks: your appetite, your energy level, but the best and the worst was your sex drive.

“You’re staring again,” you murmured, meeting his gaze in the mirror and trying to pretend you didn’t want him to slut you out. 

“Sorry,” offered Bucky, who was leaning on the wall behind you, smirking and probably reading your mind. 

He was definitely not sorry.

“Can’t help it, Frumoasă.”

You raised an eyebrow at him over your shoulder at his cracked voice.

“You can’t?”

You destroyed him with a look. He couldn’t take how beautiful you were. You standing there, no makeup, all that hair, his white shirt and panties. He never knew that Jockey that made lingerie to turn him on, but here you were.

And Bucky was so weak for you.

“No. I can’t. You’re too beautiful.”

But the way he was looking at you, eyes burning you, that tongue peeking out of his mouth as if recalling your taste on his lips; it made you shiver. 

Bucky strode toward you, so gotdamn handsome in the mirror that you didn’t want to turn around and see the real thing.

He was clad only in low slung grey sweatpants, the bulge in them growing by the second, his abs standing out, his tiny nipples erect. The medal on his golden skin gleamed and you longed to bite it between your teeth as he stroked his thick cock inside you.

Bucky Barnes’ blue gaze had you in a chokehold.

Fuck, you wished he would choke you while he fucked you hard, but he stopped with the breath play the moment he found out you were pregnant.

Your eyes glazed over and your mouth dropped open in a small pant as your pussy clenched down on nothing, thinking of how Bucky handled you on his cock.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Frumoasă?” Bucky teased, eyes locked on you when you turned your dreamy eyes on him. 

You pretended you didn’t notice and refocused on arranging your curls. The sharp points of your breasts under his shirt might have been a clue however, and if he could see between your legs, he might have ascertained a wet spot. 

Bucky’s voice was low and rough around the edges as he moved closer to you, watching as you as your fingers pulled through your hair again, your arms akimbo and offering the perfect view of your body.

He also didn’t miss the smile that played on your lips after what he asked. He knew what you were thinking.

Your hands fell from your thick hair to your hips and your eyes zeroed in on his bulge.

“My eyes are up here, Baby.”

Bucky’s firm hands were sliding over your hips now, pulling you back against him. His lips brushed your shoulder. 

Slow. Lazy. Possessive.

His hands moved to your belly, his fingers spreading possessively over the softness there. There was only the slightest change, but Bucky noticed everything. His breath moved over your neck and made you shiver as he kept eye contact in the mirror.

“Bucky… got to get ready,” you murmured, trying to ignore the way his fingers smoothed down the curve of your waist. 

“Not yet…” 

A hand slid under the hem of the shirt. You inhaled shakily. 

“I woke up, and you weren’t in bed.” 

His voice was low, rough, and thick with desire. 

You swallowed hard. 

“Because I was getting ready to—“

 “You’re supposed to be in my arms,” he interrupted.

His words sent heat through your body as his hands tightened on your hips. And you felt him, hard, ready, and pressing against you from behind. 

You gripped the vanity with trembling fingers. He chuckled, his hips pressing into you. 

“You’re wearing my shirt, looking like this, carrying my baby. You’re killing me,” he looked up at you in the mirror those blue eyes destroying your soul.

“You know that right? You drive me crazy,” he murmured, voice thick with need as his hands glided higher over your ribs, fingertips tracing the sensitive skin beneath your breasts. 

You gasped, body weak against the hard planes of his torso and Bucky groaned, his large hands extending and gripping your nipples gently. He rolled them lightly, his hands working under his shirt, and a moan escaped you. 

“Fuck, you’re sensitive, aren’t you?” 

You didn’t have time to respond before he spun you around, lifted you on top of the counter, and stepped between your legs. Bucky’s hands slid up your thighs, pushing them wider. 

And just like that, going out was forgotten because Bucky was between your legs, his long, hard cock pressing against your melting pussy, kissing you like he was starving. His palms were hot on your skin, fingers gripping, claiming, and dragging you closer. 

You gasped into his mouth, and he deepened the hot, slow, and delicious kiss like you two had all the time in the world. 

Like he wanted to devour you.

“Bucky, Baby—” 

You barely got his name out before his fingers tightened, and suddenly your back was pressed to the mirror, legs wrapped around his waist, body caged in by his. He grabbed the hem of the shirt and yanked it open, baring your skin to his. 

You shivered at the way his eyes darkened as they swept over you, hunger rolling off him.

“Shoulda stayed in bed, baby,” he murmured, trailing his lips down your neck and his hands spreading you wider. 

“I was going to meet Peach for brunch,” you whimpered. 

In the back of your mind, you were certain that this was a plan between him and Steve to keep you both in the house after what happened in Atlanta after New Years. 

Bucky chuckled, his breath hot against your skin and his teeth grazing your collarbone. 

“I’m sure she’s busy as well.” 

You shook your head and smirked as his mouth moved lower, dragging down your stomach, over your hip, until he was kneeling between your legs.

“Can’t stop thinking about you,” he confessed, his voice dropping into a rough whisper as he looked up at you with those baby blues.

“About this body. About what we made together. About how deep a part of me lives inside you.”

His hand drifted over your stomach, then slid down to the waistband of your panties, teasing.

Your breath hitched, “Bucky!” 

His palmed your clit and slipped three fingers along the cut of you, playing in your slick, teasing. 

“So fucking wet. Here, taste.”

And he inserted his wet fingers into your mouth. Your eyes closed as you sucked yourself off of him, but they flew open when you felt something sharp and cold against your skin. 

Bucky had picked up your hair shears from the vanity and was using them to cut your panties off.

“James!”

Bucky outright laughed as you moved your mouth and prepared to gripe at him, until he got on his knees. He settled between your legs, pushing between them with his shoulders and stared at you.

You were glistening, slick and swollen, your body so fucking ready for him. 

He dragged his wet fingers through your folds, pressing just enough to make your breath catch, just enough to make your hips jerk up.

You were desperate for more. 

“Look at you,” he murmured, watching you fall apart. 

You whimpered, your thighs trembling around his shoulders. He slid a finger inside you, slow and deep, watching as you gasped, your body clenching around him. 

“So tight. So fucking perfect.” 

Bucky added another, stretching, preparing, feeling your pussy adjust to him. 

You moaned, arched, writhed, and it was the most beautiful fucking thing Bucky had ever seen. 

He leaned forward and dragged his tongue through your slick heat, tasting, devouring, and feeling your body tremble under his grip. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling, gripping, and begging for more.

“Please, Bucky, please!!!”

Your fiancé smirked into your pussy. 

“Impatient?”

You whimpered, your hips jerking as he held you down, licking slowly, deeply, watching you come undone.

“You’re perfect like this,” he mumbled into your cunt.

At this point, you were shaking and gasping. Bucky didn’t stop until you were arching off the vanity, crying out his name, legs shaking around his head as you came.

He wiped his mouth as he watched you come down and trying to close your legs although he still had one thigh in his grip.

Your drooping eyes widened as he lowered the waistband of his sweats, pulled you forward by your hip, and lined himself up.

“Need more. Need to be inside you.” 

“Please!”

It was an over stimulated plea, but it died on your lips in a moan. Bucky held your gaze as he pushed inside your wet, hot pussy.

“Tight,” he gritted through clenched teeth. “Fucking perfect.”

Your fingers clenched his shoulders and you let out a breathy moan, making him almost lose it right there. Bucky sunk deeper, feeling your body stretch to accommodate him.

“That’s it, mama. Take every fucking inch of my fat cock.”

He groaned, burying himself to the hilt, feeling you tighten and pulse around him, sucking him in deeper. 

Bucky pulled back and thrusted back hard, watching the way you face twisted in pleasure.

“Mine.”

He said it aloud this time. 

Bucky gripped your hips, pinning you down, fucking you slow and deep. He gripped your jaw and forced you to look at him.

“Eyes on me.”

His voice was rough and demanding.

“That’s it. Take me. Take all of this cock.”

Your nails dragged down his back until you were too weak to hold on, your body shuddering from wave after wave of pleasure, which spiked when the splashes of his hot cum hit the convulsing walls of your cunt.

Bucky held you tight and kissed the top of your head.

“You don’t leave the bed without saying good morning.”

“Yes, Sir. Good morning, Sir.”

“Smartass. Let’s teach it a lesson.”

You thought Bucky Barnes was done.

But when you slid down to your feet, he turned you around and bent you over the sink. You felt his cock get hard again and press against your bottom.

You gasped.

“James!”

“You’re gonna be a little late for brunch, Frumoasă.”

[fluffylino]

loner ! minho - drabble

you've observed him in your classes. he's hot. he's always by himself. little did you know he was fascinated with you too...

-contains mature themes (risky sex oops)

minho's in your class. he's there almost for every single lecture. never skipping unless he didn't show up to uni.

theres something about him that makes your heart race. maybe because you were just like him. the silent ones in the class who mostly sat right at the back where you could be at peace and avoid most interactions.

somehow the two of y'all never sat together, sometimes sitting on opposite ends of the small class or maybe on the bench infront. you watch him at times whenever the lesson content gets boring. taking in the sight of him paying attention.

was he really paying attention or was he just lost in his thoughts?

were you ever in his thoughts?

did you ever make an appearance in his mind?

.

.

its a long day. back to back lectures since 8 in the morning and you're tired. this time your class was being held in a small private classroom that nearly no one knew about except the people in this specific class.

neatly taking off your shoes outside the carpetted stairway.

noticing the larger pair of combat boots that are tucked away from all the other shoes.

mindlessly you keep your shoes near his. because he had mindlessly been doing that for the past few weeks. placing his shoes next to yours.

silently entering the class, only to realise you had losf track of time in the canteen. 10 mins since your class had begun and here you were.

heart thumping nervously at all the eyes on you, as you quietly scutter to an empty chair. the teacher has made all of y'all sit in a semi circle. for more integration and freedom.

and you find yourself seated directly across minho. taking in the sight of him entirely as your professor absentmindedly continues talking about something.

your eyes can't help but trail down to his hands. watching him crack his knuckles and adjust the rings he wore on his digits.

the black shirt complimenting his physique and his leisure way of sitting making your stomach churn with arousal.

why were you finding him so ravishing today? seeing him so upfront worked wonders on your imaginative brain.

blinking slowly as you thought of how his fingers would feel against your body. maybe even between your legs...

blushing heavily when he glances at you briefly. and from the corner of your eye, you swear you see him hide a smirk.

.

.

class is over and you're about to leave when you feel a gentle hand on your shoulder. and you're quick to turn around.

masking on a kind smile which immediately falters.

"wait back with me..." its him.

bag slinging across his shoulder as he stands beside you. quietly waiting for everyone to leave. with a long stride, he closely the door of the classroom. latching it smoothly and for a second you think he's uncomfortable with you.

what if he noticed how obvious you were.

"u-uh is everything o-okay?" you mumble, taking a few steps back when he stands in front of you. minimizing the gap as much as possible.

"i don't know, you tell me..." he lets out, tilting his head with intent. your mouth opens and closes. going speechless and every single coherent thought escaping your mind.

"...i d-don't know" you stutter unconciously. struggling to maintain eye contact with him. looking anywhere but at his eyes.

"do you...." he starts off. clearing his throat before looking at the latched door for a second, turning to purse his lips at you in a somewhat shy manner.

your bag sliding off one of your shoulder's and falling on the ground with a soft thud when he holds your chin.

making you look up at him the whole time.

"do you want to eat ramyeon...with me?"

minho whispers. purposefully leaning closer to breath heavy on your parted lips. your own breath shaking as you unconciously refuse to create a gap between y'all.

"or am i just eye candy for you?" he adds with a playful tone.

"no! i mean...n-no. you're more than just...that"

you mumble, cheeks heating up furiously. eye candy? that meant he knew you were watching him.

"well this eye candy's wondering if you just wanna keep staring at him or instead do something about it..."

.

.

.

"is this what you were dreaming of"

minho whispers huskily, hand stuffed down your pants. pulling you higher up on his lap. fingers tracing over your cunt. your nervousness dying down when he touches you like he's meant to be the only one touching you so intimately.

"m-sorry" you whimper. feeling concerned with yourself for imagining such vile things. filthy dirty thoughts during innocent moments.

"no baby, this is what i dreamt of too"

rubbing his middle and ring finger up against your folds. teasingly feeling up your clit. knowing that this was the first time you'd let anyone touch you like this.

"dreamt of dirtier things...so fucking filthy"

slipping his digit past your entrance and you keen. stomach burning with the unfamiliar intrusion.

"thought of you riding me on one of these stupid chairs" minho breathes out. curling his digits upwards to rub your walls. grunting when you grind down on his fingers.

"m-me too...wanted to ride you...want to ride you"

you gasp out, covering your mouth at the risks y'all were taking. an empty locked classroom.

"your s-shoes" and he smiles.

"you noticed. couldn't get over the size difference"

he teases, pulling his fingers out to lick them seductively. deciding to draw fast rough circles on your clit. stimulating the bundle of nerves so fast that you shake in his hold.

"don't you have class?" he asks, knowing damn well that right now class was the last thing on your mind.

"i have you." you moan, praying that luck ws on your side and that you'd get the time to taste him...

.

.

.

.

.

inspired by the dream i had last night AAAAAAA im screaming without the s-

[meenaxskz]

you lost the handcuffs keys (bf!bangchan x reader)

drabble | bf!bangchan x reader au genre: light smut (just in case…but mostly crack) | crack warnings: mature suggestive content | language Summary: chan finally lets you take control in bed. you bring out the fluffy pink handcuffs and have the night of your life until it ends and you realize… you lost the keys. a/n : omg i know i vanished again i'm so sorry life’s been lifing but i promise i’m alive!! and actually working on a long hyunjin series 👀 you’ll see what i mean soon hehe. in the meantime, here’s a little chan x reader so you know i haven’t evaporated lol

tonight was your moment.

your villain arc. your dom debut.

chan looked up at you all smug and shirtless and said “i’ll let you be in charge tonight” and you said bet. you meant it with your whole chest.

you straddled him, whispered filthy things, and whipped out your secret weapon:

fluffy pink handcuffs.

he blinked.

you said “just trust me”

he said “okay babe”

you cuffed him to the headboard, kissed down his chest, and ruined him for like an hour straight. he moaned. whined. begged. called you “ma’am” at one point (he denies it now). 

and now it’s over…

you flop next to him, smug, breathless, glowing. he smiles at you, wrists still cuffed, all blissed out and ruined.

“okay” he’s panting “you can uncuff me now”

you reach for the keys. and pause. then check again.

“uhh…”

he raises an eyebrow “...what.”

“don’t panic” you say immediately. too fast. too suspicious.

“WHY WOULD I PANIC”

you sit up. open the drawer. then the other drawer. then under the bed. you pull the blanket off the bed. check under his thigh.

nothing.

“babe?” he watches you flip over a pillow aggressively “WHERE ARE THE KEYS”

“I DON��T KNOW”

“WHAT”

“I DON’T KNOWWWWWW” you scream fully flailing now “I HAD THEM AND THEN I DIDN’T AND I THINK I KICKED THEM INTO THE VOID”

he stares at you. full blown handsome disappointment.

“y/n” his voice calm but deeply scary “if you don’t uncuff me in the next five minutes i’m going to sue.”

you fake a laugh “for what??”

“improper horny procedure”

“okay no. no no no. we can fix this”

20 minutes later:

he’s still cuffed. still sweaty.

you’ve now tried:

a bobby pin

a paperclip

googling “how to pick handcuffs”

threatening the handcuffs verbally

blaming him for looking too hot and “distracting you”

“i’m gonna start crying” chan mutters “i can’t feel my left shoulder”

“shhh” you say, digging through the drawer again “i found something that might work”

“...what is that”

“...strawberry lube.”

he goes silent.

“i’ve watched macgyver. i got this.” he’s sweating.

“why do we have strawberry lube”

“...it smells good?”

“that is not…” he starts then exhales “FINE. FINE JUST GET ME OUT”

you lube the inside of the cuffs like a crazy person. he’s watching you. deadpan.

arms still cuffed. thighs still spread. dick still out.

it slides off. you shriek: “OH MY GOD I’M A GENIUS”

he sits up. rubs his wrists. squints at you.

“…don’t be mad” you whisper.

he leans forward slowly. grabs your waist. throws you onto the bed. you scream

“you’re not allowed to be in charge for at least six months”

“but babe. i freed you.!”

“...with lube”

you smile “i problem solved”

he groans “you’re banned”

“...but i already ordered a leash?”

“NO”

⤷ main m.list ❟

DISCLAIMER : This blog and all related content (fics, fake texts, headcanons, imagines, etc.) are entirely fictional and created for entertainment purposes only. I do not know Stray Kids personally, nor do I claim any of this reflects their real personalities, actions, or relationships. All characters and their personalities—including Meena King—are original creations.Please enjoy responsibly and remember : real people = real boundaries.

[blossomarlia]

hi, could you write a drabble with reader x remus where she rlly struggles with getting involved or going to hang out with people without explicitly being invited (just feeling really worried about being rejected) and he kind of reassures her and looks after her?

hi, thanks for this request! hope you enjoy, i generally don't write school-aged drabbles but thought this fit the best.

summary: your fear of being rejected stops you from joining your friends, but remus reassures you

remus x fem! reader (implied early stages romance)

Sitting by one of the fireplaces in the Gryffindor common room, you’re wondering how many of the people around you have exchanged glances over the top of your head. You can almost feel judgement thickening the air, raised eyebrows and confused smiles that ask why is she even here? To be honest, the only reason that you haven’t moved away is that you were technically sitting here first, and the rest of them milled in and took their spots nearby- then again, was it purposeful, your taking a place on one of the sofas they often use? In hindsight it’s just embarrassing. They must be assuming that you sat down just so they’d have no choice but to talk to you. 

You know you’re expecting the worst of this group, none of whom particularly deserve it. The flock of seventh-years surrounding you are generally a good bunch; Lily, Sirius, Marlene, Mary, Peter, James, Remus, and Dorcas,. You want to be one of them more than  you want most other things, which is somewhat pathetic and completely obvious in the way you’re always hanging around. They may all be lovely, and your friends (to some extent), but you know how irritating it can be if there’s always someone not quite in the group hanging around.

You should leave. Get up and make some comment about homework, or whatever, and wait for absolutely nobody to stop you. It’s kinder to everybody. Isn’t it?

Lost in your thoughts, you miss what Lily says next, and then they’re all getting to their feet. You give what you hope is a casual smile, simultaneously relieved of your spiralling and disappointed that they’re fulfilling your expectations.

There’s a tap on your shoulder- Remus, your favourite, whose hair has grown out over Christmas and now curls over his ears. He seems to get taller and lovelier with every passing moment. It’s difficult to make eye contact.

“We’re heading to the greenhouses, did you hear?” He says quietly, hand stilling instead of pulling away. You press your lips together and nod, carefully hiding any sort of misplaced hurt. It’s not as if you’re entitled to an invitation.

“Alright, I’ll see you later!” Too enthusiastic.

His brows pinch together. “You’re not coming?”

You look up at the others, who are collecting scarves and bags on their way to the portrait-hole. How can you admit to Remus that you don’t think they want you along? How can you tell him, anyone, that you’re far too afraid of being made fun of, or becoming a joke within their tight-knit group, to risk it?

“Oh, I don’t know. I have heaps of homework.”

“You do?” He raises his eyebrows. You feel caught, despite not having been accused of any sort of lie. “I thought you finished it all yesterday.”

You’d been studying when he and Lily joined you, and all day you’ve been wondering why they chose to. You probably put a but too much value on people choosing to sit next to you in class or during study; it’s unlikely that it was more than an absence of other free tables.

“...Some, yeah. And I wouldn’t want to- you know, I wouldn’t…” You trail off and give an awkward laugh. Remus’ gentle expression is making the inside of your mouth hurt.

“What?” You’re not used to your excuses mattering so much. Mostly, you mutter something and disappear to your dorm in time to avoid any drama. Is he feeling guilty, awkward about having made plans as a group in front of someone else? You cringe at the notion of Remus realising how friendless you probably are, of his pity. 

You know it’s your own fault for being like this. You’ve had friends in the past- cool, funny, popular, attractive- who frequently left you out on purpose. A drunken conversation in fifth year revealed that you were tolerable at best, a joke at worst. Always pushing in and so desperate for invitations that to extend them could only be ironic. 

You think about that more often than you should. You’re constantly hyperaware of how tolerable you are, sure that you’ll say or do something which will make everyone else realise exactly why you’re not in any particular group. You can’t let that happen yet with all these people, so full of love for one another that even proximity to them feels like the experience of it. Still, they’re teenagers. Judgement is an automatic response, and Remus is clever in the way he jokes. He’ll retell this conversation to roaring laughter if you reveal too much- not that he’s ever unkind, but you sort of invite a bad impression, you think.

“It’s really fine,” You assure him. “I’m tired. It’s cold, too.”

“Right,” He nods, glancing downwards. You think you’ve won (as much as you can win, here) until he turns to James and Peter and says, “I think we’re going to stay here. Bit chilly.”

What?

James frowns, making a sound of protest. “Moony!” His eyes fall to you next, and you look away, guilty and embarrassed. You’d never even considered that pity would drive Remus to actually stay here, and now they’ll all hate you. Nice job, very well handled.

Marlene is next. “‘Cas has just finished growing the Alihotsy plant, though. We’re all going.”

“It’s been weeks since we all had the evening off- or at least, since Potter and Black didn’t have a detention each,” Lily reasons more kindly. She receives twin protests from the boys on either side of her, but remains unbothered, adding, “It’d be nice to spend a bit more time as a group.”

You’re awfully close to tears. All you’d wanted was to relieve them of yourself, to retreat to your room and wait until somebody explicitly invited you somewhere (if ever), and now you’ve gone and ruined everybody’s evening. You turn to Remus, more urgent than is likely normal. “Please just go with them,” You say softly, aware that your voice is all wobbly. “I’m just going to go to bed, I don’t want to interrupt all of you catching up. Please, it’s really okay.”

There’s a brief silence that spans the entire crowd. They’ve all heard, are all likely attempting not to laugh. Remus is giving you an awful look. 

“...Are you okay, lovely?” Mary asks. You can’t look at her, can’t look at any of them, but you’ve always been alright at masking emotion in your voice when you really try. You force something like a smile.

“Yes! Yes, completely fine, I’m only tired. Post-holiday blues, maybe.” You laugh and it sounds terrible. “I’ve really only got to go to bed. You all have fun!” Silence again. 

“We might join you all in a bit,” Remus says firmly. There are a few worried noises of assent, and they all head off. Now, you do see them looking at one another, frowning and looking upset. Poor Remus, you imagine them saying on their way to the greenhouses, stuck looking after her while we all escape.

Remus asks you to sit down again three times before you agree, still rather set on going to bed so you won’t cry in front of the entire common-room.

“What’s making you so upset?” He asks softly, once he’s finally detained you. You blink quickly and cast a glance around at the other students in the common-room, afraid to embarrass yourself more than you already have, but he’s quick to assuage the fear. “I cast a muffliato when James began talking about the Alihotsy prank- ages ago. Nobody’s heard anything, I promise.”

You swallow harshly. “Oh. Thanks. I’m sorry I’m being so- so-”

“If I could,” Remus says, firm but kind, “This will be a lot easier if we can get to the problem, here, rather than whatever you think you’ve done wrong.”

“I- right. Okay. Um,” You stammer. “They’re not really mutually exclusive.” “Why don’t you want to come? Did somebody say something hurtful?” You look at him, slightly startled. “What? It’s not that I don’t want to.”

Remus seems perplexed, looking the way he does when he’s working out a particularly difficult exam question. “No?”

“No.” You twist your fingers together so tightly that they hurt. “No, it sounds fun, it just… it’s not as if I’m going to demand to be brought along, am I?” The joke falls flat. You think you already knew it would, but it’s still a bit embarrassing to laugh and be met with a concerned frown.

 You take a few longer breaths. You can fix this. You have to fix this. 

“Look, it’s kind of you to stay here, but like Lily said- you all have the night off. It’s really not so bad not to spend it as a group. I want you to go, really.” The next smile is easier. You’ve done this before, convinced people not to feel bad for you. 

“Why would you need to demand to be brought along?” Remus asks. “We made the plans while you were right here.”

“You all made plans together,” You explain slowly. “You know, having an evening to yourselves and that sort of thing. There’s no need for- you know, I’m honestly just tired. That’s probably why I’ve reacted so oddly, it’s my own fault.”

Remus looks at you for a long while, so intent that your skin gets prickly and uncomfortable. Eventually, he speaks, quiet and considered. “...You haven’t acted oddly if that’s how you’ve been feeling.”

“Tired?”

“No, excluded.” He says gently. “You really didn’t know you were invited?” You don’t answer with more than silence, and he sighs. 

“You were. You’re always invited, dove, of course you are.”

Trying not to get to hung up on impossibilities, you shake your head quickly. “It’d be a bit rude to assume that.”

“It wouldn’t.” Remus replies immediately. Then, “Dove, what are we going to do with you?” Entirely too much to comprehend. You’re glad he goes on. “Would you look at me for a moment, please?”

You want to ask him why, or refuse, or run up to your dormitory, but you do as he says. You wonder if he knows that he could ask you to do almost anything and you’d say yes, if he’ll only keep looking at you with his coffee-coloured eyes.

“All of us- we want you to come along, wherever we are. You’re important to lots of people. Do you understand that?” “I- I just don’t want to push myself in.” You say, mortified.

“You aren’t. You’re being pulled, if anything, yeah?” His lips quirk. “When Lily said those things about spending time as a group, she meant you, too. If somebody said something that made you think otherwise, I’ll-”

“Nobody said anything,” You tell him feebly. This is all rather a lot to take in. “I think… maybe it’s more that nobody’s said I am invited, or a part of- I don’t know, it’s all sort of stupid.”

“No it’s not,” Remus disagrees. He pinches your chin quickly between thumb and forefinger, frowning again. Mary once commented that Remus would look sixty by the time you all left school, with all his worrying wrinkles. “Not stupid, but it’s not very kind to yourself, either. Why shouldn’t we want you around?”

You open your mouth and close it at his raised eyebrow. “Rhetorical question?” 

“Rhetorical question.” He confirms amusedly. “There’s no point arguing, because we do. I do. I wish you wouldn’t think otherwise.”

“I’ve only been friends with all of you for a little while, though. You’ve all been mates since first-year.” At that, Remus outright scoffs. “Have we, now?” 

You shrug. 

“James and Lily always liked each other, then? Dorcas didn’t only just start hanging around us as well?” You look down, and he sighs. “However long everybody’s known one another, the most important bit is that we all like each other, yeah? It wouldn’t matter whether we became mates at eleven or two days ago- we’re friends. Or- you know.”

You definitely don’t know, but you’re going red anyway. He was definitely talking about Lily and James- that’s all he meant by ‘you know’. Isn’t it?

Remus scratches the back of his head, quiet for another second. Then, “...Why don’t we go down to the greenhouses? We’ll stick together the whole time, you’ll not be sat by yourself again.”

“I don’t want to make you babysit.”

Remus tsks, expression becoming sterner for a moment. “Don’t think that way about yourself. I’m asking because I want you to come- it’s not worth going if you aren’t there.”

The long moment it takes for you to decipher whether he’s only being nice or if that’s the truth is enough for Remus to decide that you don’t really have a choice in the matter. Tugging you to your feet, and seeming taller than ever with your proximity, he winds his own scarf around your neck and pushes some hair behind your hear. You let him, mostly because you’re too surprised to do anything about it.

“Let’s go, before they all decide to try some of the Alihotsy themselves. Gloves?”

You manage a nervous giggle, putting your mittens on when he hands them to you. “Thanks.”

“That’s alright. Come on,” He gives you a crooked sort of smile. It’s sometimes difficult to tell if Remus is aware how good-looking he is. 

The entire group are far too enthusiastic at yours and Remus’ arrival fifteen minutes later, given the fact that it’s hardly been half an hour since they left. Either way, you’re quickly pulled into a squabble between Lily and James about- as Remus predicted- the logic of trying some Alihotsy for themselves. 

“Thank Merlin you came, you’re the only one who won’t be completely daft about this!” Lily says, linking her arm in yours. You smile before catching Remus’ eye and looking down, feeling yourself flush. Smug bastard, you think fondly.

It’s an entire two hours before everyone heads back up to the castle, having thoroughly violated curfew but without (to James and Sirius’ chagrin) having tested any of the plant which would induce hysterical laughter. You find yourself walking beside the tallest of the group in comfortable silence, a few steps behind the rest.

“Thanks for making me come with you,” You say, perhaps a little more earnestly than you ought. “It was really nice.”

“‘Course, dove.” You look up at Remus to find he’s already looking at you. He clears his throat, glancing over at Sirius and Marlene where they’re pretending to push each other into the snow. It’s likely to end in one of them following through and the other swearing eternal hatred. “We’re all glad you came along. Could even make a habit of it.”

You exhale a laugh. “Maybe.”

He gives you a sideways look. “Oh, ‘maybe’, is it?” “...Conceivably?” You grin, darting away when he grabs at you and sort of wishing you’d stayed still just to see what he’d do. Remus fixes you with a teasing glare.

“Watch it, sweetheart.”

You blink, choking on words for a minute. Sweetheart? Sweetheart!? Sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheartsweetheartsweetheartsweetheart-

“You alright?” 

“Yeah!” You say, too quickly. Remus misreads your flusteredness as something else and softens, taking hold of your sleeve and tugging you towards him. You go easily.

“If it’ll help,” He says thoughtfully, “You can ask me if you’re invited to things. Or I’ll just tell you. Then you won’t have to go to the trouble of assuming either way.”

You like him so, so much. “That’s really nice of you, Remus.”

“Eh,” He shrugs. “You know me.”

Now, it’s harder not to smile than anything else. “I don’t want you to go to any trouble. It’s really my problem, I shouldn’t-”

“Enough,” He interrupts gently. “Just say yes, dove, if it’ll help. I won’t be unhappy either way.”There are several places within you, the more unkind parts, that say accepting his offer would be like accepting pity. But there are also places that are warmed at the thought, that remember how people reacted when you arrived in the greenhouse, that can start imagining a reality wherein nobody hated your presence by the sofas tonight, and those bits win the argument for the first time in a very long time. You look up at Remus, his soft eyes and fluffy hair dusted with snow, and nod.

[binmeister]

Producer AU Headcanons

SAJA BOYS & HUNTR/X x Producer! Reader

I am mentally sane and definitely not in a hypothetical padded cell of this hyper fixation - have some headcanons I have and will eventually show more of maybe if people are interested

Will probably eventually expand even more on headcanons I have laying around if not just do drabbles / short scenarios for stuff I want to get out - probably extremely OOC of canon but this is what I picture everyone to be in this AU 😊

CW: relatively gender neutral here, the main series is insinuated fem!reader - just loose headcanons about the characters in this AU and how they interact or feel about you [NOT PROOFREAD]

General

The groups still fight because honestly, it’s hard to shake off that demon hate entirely but now it’s mostly relatively friendly sparring. Mostly.

Sometimes Romance plays with fire a little too closely and ends up getting his ass handed to him by Mira but he’ll say he loves it as she gets angrier, Rumi and Zoey finally having to play mediator and drag the taller girl away before she actually commits a crime against Romance

They all rely on you heavily for comebacks, you’re their favourite producer and they are terrified to try working with anyone else again after the last demos were leaked and they all sounded... horrible (thinking about EXO - Wolf where they tried to make it sound horrible so it wouldn’t be released)

You know their vocal strengths and weaknesses like the back of your hand, able to make them shine in whatever concept they’re aiming for so why wouldn’t they love working with you? Aside from when you get cranky because you didn’t get enough sleep and then it’s hard to talk to you because they don’t want you to start crying or yelling at them. Yeah you’re a bit of a wild card when you’re tired.... which is pretty frequently

The Saja boys often ended up on projects with your co-producer so over time you’d grown accustomed to seeing them in the building, which meant a lot more fleeting conversations between yourself and each boy - it broke the ice and it became easier to work with them over time

Saja boys

Jinu

Loser! (endearing)

He’s just a dork trapped in a hot body and I can’t unsee it, when he’s not in serious leader mode he’s just a goofball that likes to tease and poke fun at his friends or at you.

He tries to play it cool, he really does but he gets nervous and when he fumbles which makes him more nervous so he’ll go from “Hey..” to slipping or tripping over himself to stuttering to apologising and avoiding eye contact for the remainder of time together as he wishes he exploded in a dramatic display.

At first he was all about keeping things professional with you but it was hard to maintain a cool and collected image, when the other boys had stopped keeping up theirs. He steadily gave up and let his actual personality start to shine through when you poked fun at him, accusing him of not doing his best during recording sessions or even when he found himself at your place late at night just talking.

Talking about nothing in particular but everything at the same time and he just, couldn’t stop trying to come over to talk. If it wasn’t a bi weekly thing, it was a weekly thing and then nearly every other night he’d shoot a message asking if you’d want to come over to hang out with the guys (him) or if you wanted company while you worked.

Enjoys just being in your space, watching you work without you knowing (non creepy) and just the serenity of it. Kinda likes seeing when you get frustrated over a project and will try to help out by humming out the tune with you so you could hear it in a different key and if that doesn’t work, he rips you from your chair and says “Yup, break time.” and forces you to take a break by making you go out on a walk with him, a midnight food run, go to hang out with the chaos that is his boys, anything to get you to reset and refresh yourself.

Whenever he works on a project with you or stops by to hang out, he makes sure to grab you a couple of your favourite drinks and snacks to help get you through whatever grind you were locked in on and he’d sit back listening to you hum or record your demos and close his eyes to really hear you.. it was just pleasant and a highlight to his day when he could hear you sing.

Abs / Abby

I think he gets characterised as a meat head a lot but I think there’s more under the abs and muscles, seems like a big sweetie that struggles with being gentle sometimes.

During recording sessions it’s gotten to a point where you have to smack him and Mystery upside the head to stop roughhousing in the studio - the equipment is expensive and you are NOT paying for replacements.

He doesn’t exactly understand music on a technical level, completely going off of ‘vibes’ or whatever he thinks it is but he’s able to fix his mistakes with a few pointers and that’s it - probably one of the easiest out of the bunch to correct and he never takes offense to corrections.

He’s eager to work oddly enough? Likes to get things done and if he can help you with whatever projects you’re working on the side - hell yeah! he’ll show his dance moves if you want to see if a track is dance-worthy, he’ll provide backing vocals if you need a deeper voice on tracks and he’s happy to go buy you snacks too - just kinda a golden retriever with really nice muscles and a pretty smile.

You catch him looking at you when he thinks he’s being subtle but it’s never anything that really throws you off, he just seems intrigued by what you do - often asks questions about things about the hardware or software you’re using and when you’re in your personal studio you let him try and make a track himself, just a simple half minute track with samples you’ve already made and he’s so gentle with your equipment, worried he may not know how to handle the gear without breaking something but with your reassurance and guidance he makes a sample that he’s happy with and even goes to brag about it to the other guys.

Mystery

He’s quiet, holds himself surprisingly well as an idol aside from when he gets a little.. nippy - very prone to biting the other boys but he’s a softie towards you, the Huntrix girlies too even as they’re able to reel him in and make him stop trying to bite at fans.

He’s hard on himself - beats himself up a little more than the others do because sometimes it just doesn’t make sense and he feels dejected when everyone else is able to change things up on the fly without issue - words of encouragement mean something to him and sometimes when you’re really nice, you even pat him on the head or shoulder and he really melts for a second.

You’d gotten used to him being in your space, not in like an overtly invasive way it just seemed that he didn’t particular understand personal space - so used to latching off of his other members for promotional media or rough housing so he didn’t really get why at first you were jumpy when he leant in a little too close or if he leant on your shoulder or leg if it was available. He just kinda enjoys physical touch, not really knowing what it sometimes did to your heart.

He bit you once. 

Yeah, he bit you once. He wasn’t in a particularly good mood and he had a need to bite something, anything, and you had happened to be the closest thing to him because the other guys were at the back of your studio whilst he was seated nearby you. You didn’t notice him when he crawled up to you, too focussed on the song you were mixing to perfection when you felt a sharp sting on your outter thigh and you yelped. Startling everyone in the room and even the culprit who bit you, you stared at him - he stared at you (you think) and then you pointed to the door wordlessly. He got up and walked out of the room in shame, like a scolded puppy.

Romance

Everyone agrees he’s flirty, but I feel like Romance is a bit more of the awkward flirt when you match his energy.

He’s so used to everyone backing off or getting flustered, so if you throw something back at him? He’ll fumble, stammer over his next words as he tries to catch his breath because he was NOT expecting you to match his tone. After that he’s avoiding eye contact, it takes him a couple days before he’s back to teasing you in a flirty way and sending “send nudes?” to you randomly through out the week.

There had been a time where you were left alone with Romance and he had let his guard down, turned off the flirty persona all together and he was a lot more.. approachable? Enjoyable to be around even as you two just made small talk and he wasn’t batting his lashes at you, wasn’t trying to force physical affection onto you and just simply enjoyed your presence for what it was. You had to admit when he was being him and not the flirty idol everyone wanted to see, he was pretty attractive.

He gives theatre kid when he sings, playing things up, somehow too emotive when he sings but he is willing to take feedback and correct himself when he goes too far or if you catch on that he’s straining a note too much because he wants to commit - wants to show he can do it - which leads to you taking him aside and quietly and gently reminding him that his vocal cords need to stay healthy if he wants to continue singing. To continue shining. And he takes that feedback to heart, doing his best to actually go through vocal exercises to warm up his voice and being more mindful of the steps he takes into hitting higher notes or notes just barely out of range until he’s able to comfortably undertake them and when he does hit that note? He’s got a smug smile on his face as he looks at you with the most excited and adoring eyes.

Baby

Ipad kid. I see him as the kind of person that may have a bit of ADHD. something that stemmed from his past life maybe - always on his phone or doing something to divide his attention because going all in on something is harder for him.

He can’t focus if he isn’t doing something - fidgeting, playing a game, evening snacking on something - he just needs some kind of stimuli to lock in and that’s just kinda how he is.

When he talks to you he’s usually flicking his eyes between you and his phone, but he’s listening - able to give full responses to questions you have and has no issues regurgitating the information back to you or whoever is there that doubts he was listening.

He’s got more technical skill in music than the others guys but still a few levels under Jinu, he knows what works for him and isn’t opposed to switching things up if you ask him to but it takes a few tries before he’ll get it. He’s actually assisted in writing bars for you and even critiqued lines you’ve written and fixed songs for you. His flow is a lot more natural than yours and you had to admit, he was good at what he knew.

You’d actually introduced him to a group of underground rappers that yourself and a few producers in your building knew, he hadn’t shown any interest until he showed up to an impromptu session and really enjoyed the cyphers they had to come up with on the fly. The second time he went he had asked if he could record the session and send it over to you - the others were happy for him to do that and you could hear the joy in his voice as he shared a craft with like minded people in the snippet he recorded for you.

Huntr/x 

Rumi

She’s a little hard to talk to sometimes but it’s mostly because she can’t express herself earnestly, she tries but it’d be a lie if you and her hadn’t had misunderstandings here and there because of it.

As much as you love working with her, she loves working with you - absolutely bouncing off the walls when Bobby tells her and the other girls that they’ll be working on you for any project.

Also respectfully - girl failure when she isn’t putting up the perfect idol pretence because of her upbringing from Celine and often makes mistakes when its just the two of you, she feels comfortable enough to not force herself into a mould and has even had a voice crack here and there where you both laugh it off and let her redo the take.

You’d caught her when her voice was going through a rough patch, accidentally walked in when she was having a panic attack in the studio buildings’ bathroom and saw the patterns all over her arms - though you didn’t know what they were and complimented her ‘cool tattoos’ after you had held her in your arms and let her steadily calm down from her panic, after that whenever it had just been you and her she had become more comfortable with revealing her patterns to you. The comfort of you not knowing what they represented and treating her all the same was special to her, more than you’d ever understand.

Mira

She’s blunt, always has been but she likes to compliment you - not anything cheesy and over the top but just how much she appreciates your work and hopes that you’re doing well because even though you’re creating master pieces she’d rather you get rest instead of burning out

A bit rough and doesn’t always take well to criticism but is more likely to hear you out over anyone else, sometimes argues back but will still follow your guidance, gets embarrassed when you smile at her knowingly when you pick up on her following your advice

There had been a time where you got a text at 3am from her, asking if you were available for a call and you picked up only to hear her sniffly and gravelly voice as she just seemed to seek out comfort from your voice.. just something to help take the edge off of a fight she had with her parents over the phone over how embarrassed and disgusted they still were about her idol career. You let her talk before sharing your own insights, how your family felt about things and how often you’d feel insecure about your career path until you would walk down the streets and hear people humming along to a song you released and everything felt worth it again. How the right people could make everything feel worth it again. 

You’d grown closer after that call and she had unknowingly became more attached, always opting to go to you to express her more vulnerable side when she couldn’t bring herself to open up to Zoey or Rumi.

Zoey

She’s so loveable it’s almost painful, often messages you to ask for critique on lyrics she comes up with and if you have time to give her feedback on what she could fix lyric or timing wise.

She respects what you have to say and doesn’t take any negative criticism to heart but occasionally you catch it, the way her eyes lose their shine for a second when you say you weren’t a fan of something she came up with and she shrinks in on herself a little - you try to be careful with how you word it whenever it does happen but sometimes you just talk her through what could change and potential ideas you have; that you still think it was a good idea just maybe could use some polishing and that normally does the trick to get her back to being her bright self.

Sometimes she gets a little overwhelming, so used to her hectic idol schedule that sometimes she forgets that production is a different trainwreck and there’s been a couple times where you’ve had to draw a line and let her know that please do not message you for a day or two while you crunch through the deadline. She understood, apologising and sending a cute little fighting..! audio clip for you to hear and you laugh it off, able to get through your project before reaching out to her and asking about what it was she wanted to share with you - this time it was turtle videos she’d found and another time it’d be seal videos she’d found and rabbit holed. Endearing, truly.