#it didn’t work. it just gave him more space to hide things

[peapod20001]

Lil baby guy <3 he reaches Shirley’s hip only cus of the hair

[solxamber]

Overblot Gang + Rollo vs Plushies

Surely they're not jealous of a stuffed toy, right? ....right???

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle stepped into the room, exhaustion clinging to him like an unwelcome guest. It had been a day filled with chaos—Ace and Deuce were their usual disruptive selves, Heartslabyul’s hedgehogs had staged what could only be described as a minor rebellion, and the tea party had gone disastrously wrong when the tart supply mysteriously disappeared.

All Riddle wanted was to collapse into bed with you, the one person who made his world feel a little less upside-down.

But instead of finding you waiting to greet him, he found you fast asleep, curled up in the middle of the bed.

And clutching...a plushie.

Riddle froze, his hand still on the doorknob, his eyes narrowing at the offending object. It was a bunny plush, worn and clearly well-loved, nestled securely in your arms. Your cheek rested against its soft head, your lips slightly parted in a peaceful slumber.

For a moment, Riddle just stared. Then the tiniest flicker of jealousy ignited in his chest.

It’s just a stuffed toy, he told himself, but the longer he looked, the more irrational his thoughts became.

Why is it getting your affection while I’m here, alive, and far more deserving?

He shook his head, trying to dispel the ridiculous notion, but the sight of you snuggling the plushie like it was the most precious thing in the world made his face heat up.

“This is absurd,” he muttered under his breath, but his resolve only grew stronger.

Quietly, carefully, he crept closer to the bed, his eyes fixed on the plushie. His plan was simple: extract the bunny and take its place. Surely, you’d prefer your boyfriend over a stuffed toy.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against the plushie’s soft fabric. Just as he began to tug it free, your eyes fluttered open.

“Riddle?” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep.

Riddle froze like a thief caught in the act, his face turning as red as his hair. “You’re awake!”

“I am now,” you said, a teasing smile tugging at your lips as you noticed the bunny in his hand. “What are you doing?”

“I was—” He struggled to find a reasonable explanation, but his traitorous blush gave him away. “You were holding it so tightly, and I thought perhaps you’d be more comfortable with me instead.”

You blinked at him for a moment before breaking into a laugh, soft and warm. “Riddle Rosehearts, are you jealous of my plushie?”

“I most certainly am not!” he spluttered, though the way he avoided your gaze told a different story.

“You are!” you said, sitting up and holding the plushie close. “You’re jealous of Bunny!”

Riddle groaned, burying his face in his hands. “This is mortifying.”

“Don’t worry, Bunny,” you cooed, deliberately making it worse. “Riddle doesn’t understand how much you mean to me.”

“Give me that!” Riddle reached for the plushie again, but you held it just out of reach, giggling as he tried to maintain his dignity while grappling with a stuffed toy.

Finally, you relented, setting the plushie aside and wrapping your arms around him instead. “I’m just teasing. You know you’re my favorite, right?”

He sighed, leaning into your embrace despite his embarrassment. “I don’t know why I let myself get worked up over something so silly.”

“Because you’re adorable,” you said, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Riddle’s blush deepened, but this time, he didn’t try to hide it. “Just...promise me you won’t replace me with a toy.”

You grinned, cupping his face in your hands. “Never. You’re too cute to replace.”

And with that, you pulled him into a kiss, his earlier jealousy forgotten as he melted into your affection. The plushie sat abandoned at the foot of the bed, no match for the warmth and love you gave so freely to the one who truly deserved it.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona slammed the door to your shared room, the sound of it echoing through the space. His day had been one giant pile of nonsense—from an annoying meeting he didn’t even want to attend to Ruggie disappearing when he needed him to take his place. And let’s not even talk about that one random pigeon that had the audacity to poop on his shoulder during his walk back to the dorm.

All he wanted now was the comfort of your presence and the luxury of using you as his personal pillow while he finally got some peace.

But when he turned to the bed, his sharp emerald eyes caught sight of you curled up against something that was decidedly not him.

You were cuddling a lion plushie, of all things, as you read a book. The toy was tucked snugly in your arms, and every now and then, you absentmindedly stroked its mane while flipping the pages.

Leona froze, his ears twitching in irritation. What in the world is that thing doing in my spot?

You glanced up when you noticed him standing there, his face an unreadable mask of simmering annoyance. “Oh, hey, Leona,” you greeted cheerfully, holding up the plushie. “Look! Isn’t this cute? I found it earlier, and it reminded me of you.”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he crossed the room in a few swift strides, grabbed the plushie from your arms, and unceremoniously hurled it across the room. It landed with a pathetic little plop in the corner.

“Leona!” you exclaimed, half-shocked, half-amused. “What was that for?”

He flopped onto the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms with a huff. “That stupid toy’s been hogging my place all day,” he grumbled, burying his face in your neck. “I don’t need competition in my own bed.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, threading your fingers through his hair as he tangled himself around you like an oversized, grumpy cat. “Leona, it’s just a plushie. Are you seriously jealous of a stuffed animal?”

“I'm not jealous,” he muttered, tightening his grip around your waist. “I’m the only lion you need.”

“Aw, poor baby,” you teased, tilting his chin up so you could look him in the eyes. “Do you feel neglected? Should I make it up to you?”

Leona raised an eyebrow, though the corner of his lips twitched upward in a smirk. “Damn straight, you should. Start with those kisses you owe me.”

With a laugh, you leaned down and kissed him softly, your hands cradling his face. He hummed in satisfaction, his earlier annoyance melting away as you continued peppering his cheeks and forehead with affection.

“Better now?” you asked, grinning against his skin.

“Hmm,” he replied, sounding almost lazy, though his arms stayed firmly locked around you. “Still annoyed that you thought some stuffed toy was good enough to take my place, but I guess I’ll survive.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head but snuggling closer to him.

“And you’re mine,” he murmured, pulling the blanket over both of you. “Now shut up and get comfortable. You’re my pillow tonight.”

You didn’t mind one bit, letting him rest his head on your chest while you stroked his hair. The plushie in the corner could wait—your favorite lion was right where he belonged.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul walked into your shared room, exhaling a sigh that carried the weight of a long, exhausting day. Between renegotiating contracts with customers, juggling lounge finances, and—most harrowing of all—keeping Floyd and Jade from causing a full-blown diplomatic incident, he was done.

All he wanted now was the comfort of your embrace and the chance to leave the chaos of the Mostro Lounge behind.

But when he stepped into the room, his eyes landed on you sprawled on the bed.

You were curled up with an octopus plushie of all things, the game console in your hands forgotten as you absently squished the toy. It had an oddly familiar round head and floppy tentacles that dangled off the side of the bed.

Azul froze in the doorway, blinking at the scene in front of him. His sharp mind began firing off thoughts at record speed.

Is that... me? No, of course not. But you’re cuddling it. You’re smiling. Does it remind you of me?

He frowned as another realization hit him like a cold wave.

Am I... jealous of a goddamn plushie?

Clearing his throat, he stepped further into the room. “What’s this, my dear?” he asked, voice smooth but laced with suspicion.

You glanced up and beamed at him. “Oh! Welcome back, Azul!” You held up the plushie as if presenting a priceless artifact. “Isn’t this cute? I found it earlier and thought it looked a little like you.”

Azul’s composure faltered for a split second, his cheeks tinging pink. “You think an oversized toy resembles me?”

“Well, yeah,” you said, tilting your head innocently. “It’s an octopus. And it’s adorable.”

Azul adjusted his glasses, hiding his expression. “I see.” He hesitated before clearing his throat again. “It seems you’re quite attached to it.”

You hummed in agreement, giving the plushie another squeeze. “It’s so squishy and comforting to hold while I play.”

Azul’s eyebrow twitched. “Comforting, is it?”

He walked to the bed, sitting down beside you with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Darling, might I propose a trade?”

“A trade?” you repeated, trying not to laugh at how serious he looked.

“Yes,” he said smoothly. “That plushie for... well, anything you desire. Perhaps a free full course meal at the lounge? Or a favor of your choosing?”

You raised an eyebrow, setting down your console. “Are you trying to make a deal with me over a stuffed toy?”

Azul’s cheeks darkened. “Of course not. I simply thought you might prefer a more... meaningful source of comfort.”

It clicked, and a mischievous grin spread across your face. “Oh. Oh, I see what this is.”

“What are you implying?” he asked, straightening his tie even though it wasn’t out of place.

“You’re jealous of the plushie,” you said, leaning toward him with a teasing glint in your eyes.

Azul sputtered, adjusting his glasses again. “Jealous? Don’t be absurd. Why would I—”

“Aw, Azul,” you cooed, cutting him off as you set the plushie aside and wrapped your arms around his neck. “You should’ve just said you wanted to be my cuddle buddy. You’re my favorite octo-mer, after all.”

His ears flushed deeper as he tried to maintain his dignity. “Well, of course I am. There’s no need for comparison.”

“Good,” you said, pulling him down onto the bed and into the position the plushie had been occupying moments ago. You rested your head against his chest, a satisfied smile on your face. “Because this is way better than some squishy toy.”

Azul relaxed, his arms wrapping around you as a content sigh escaped his lips. “Naturally,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

From the corner of the room, the plushie sat forgotten. Azul glanced at it once and smirked. You’ll never take my place again.

Jamil Viper

Jamil shuffled down the dorm hallway, exhaustion radiating off him in waves. The day had been a whirlwind of chaos—cooking for Kalim’s impromptu banquet, mediating arguments between students, and narrowly avoiding another wild scheme involving magic carpets.

All he wanted was to collapse on the bed he shared with you. That you’d be there was just the cherry on top.

He pushed the door open, ready to greet you—only to stop dead in his tracks.

You were curled up on the bed, scrolling through your phone with a peaceful smile. But it wasn’t just you. No, you were wrapped snugly around a snake plushie.

Its long, noodle-like body coiled over your lap as you absently hugged it closer, your cheek pressing against its soft fabric.

Jamil’s eye twitched.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, and stared at the scene with growing annoyance.

You look so happy... with a plushie.

“Hey, Jamil!” you greeted cheerfully, glancing up from your phone. “Welcome back. Long day?”

“Mm,” he hummed, walking toward the bed with a carefully neutral expression. He sat down stiffly at the edge, his back to you.

“Everything okay?” you asked, noticing his unusually curt demeanor.

“Fine,” he replied, voice clipped.

You frowned, putting your phone down. Wrapping your arms around his back, you rested your chin on his shoulder. “You sure? You seem… off.”

“I’m fine,” he said again, though his tone didn’t convince either of you.

You squinted at his turned profile, the faintest flush dusting his ears. He wasn’t looking at you—or, more specifically, at the snake plushie you still held loosely.

Then it clicked.

You smirked, leaning closer. “Wait a second. Are you… jealous of the plushie?”

His shoulders tensed, and he immediately scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Oh my gosh, you are jealous!” you teased, letting go of the plushie entirely to wrap yourself fully around him. “You hate my noodle friend, don’t you?”

Jamil turned slightly, just enough to glare half-heartedly at you. “It’s not— I don’t— It’s a toy,” he huffed, the flush on his face deepening.

“A very cute toy,” you said with a grin, nuzzling your cheek against his. “But not as cute as my boyfriend.”

Jamil stiffened as you started peppering kisses along his jawline. “Stop,” he mumbled weakly, his resolve clearly crumbling.

“Why?” you asked innocently, kissing the corner of his lips before moving to his neck. “You’re so much better than any plushie. You’re warm and handsome and smell nice…”

He finally cracked, turning to face you fully with an exasperated sigh. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Mm, but you love me anyway,” you said with a laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Jamil gave you a tired but affectionate look, letting himself melt into your embrace. “Maybe.”

You smiled, pulling him down onto the bed with you. As he settled into your arms, the plushie forgotten on the floor, you whispered, “You’ll always be my favorite noodle.”

He groaned, burying his face in your shoulder to hide his embarrassed grin. “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Never,” you said, pressing a kiss to his temple.

And Jamil, despite his protests, felt a sense of peace he hadn’t experienced all day.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil returned to his dorm room with a sigh of relief, the stress of the day clinging to him like stage makeup. The auditions, the photoshoots, and Epel’s ongoing refusal to use skincare—it had been a lot.

What he wanted now was simple: your company, your warmth, and the soothing routine of winding down together before bed.

However, when he stepped inside, his poised demeanor wavered.

You were curled up on the bed, a content smile on your face, snuggled tightly against a plushie—a soft, bunny-shaped one at that.

Vil froze, one hand still on the door handle.

It’s just a plushie, he told himself. A mere inanimate object.

But as he watched you absentmindedly rub your cheek against the bunny’s floppy ear, he felt… something.

Annoyance? At the plushie? Himself? You? He couldn’t even tell.

Brushing off the irrational jealousy bubbling in his chest, Vil set his things down and began his evening routine. He didn’t mention the plushie or the way it seemed to taunt him with its undeserved place in your arms.

You looked up with a warm smile. “Hey, Vil. How was your day?”

“Busy,” he replied smoothly, glancing your way briefly before focusing on his vanity.

“You want me to pin up your hair?” you offered, already starting to sit up, plushie still clutched in one hand.

“No need,” he said quickly, voice tighter than usual.

You blinked. That was unusual—Vil always let you (only you) help with his hair. But you shrugged it off, assuming he was just tired.

As Vil carefully applied his cleanser, the plushie caught his eye again in the mirror. It was still nestled against you, smugly enjoying the attention that should’ve been his.

Halfway through his routine, he finally snapped.

With a dramatic sigh, Vil spun around, crossed the room in three graceful strides, and plucked the bunny from your lap.

“Uh—?” you started, confused, but before you could say more, Vil replaced the plushie with himself, settling across your lap as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Vil?” you asked, biting back a laugh as his weight pressed you into the mattress.

“Not. A. Word,” he warned, narrowing his eyes at your amused expression. His cheeks were faintly pink, but he composed himself quickly, picking up where he left off with his skincare routine as though nothing had happened.

You grinned, wrapping your arms around his waist. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

Vil’s hands faltered for a split second before he regained his composure. “I don’t need your commentary.”

“You’re totally jealous of the bunny,” you teased, leaning up to kiss his shoulder.

He clicked his tongue but didn’t deny it. Instead, he muttered, “Why would I feel jealous over a plushie?”

“Because you’re pouting,” you said, laughing softly.

Vil sighed, tilting his head slightly to look at you out of the corner of his eye. “I do not pout. And don’t think I’ll let you win this one.”

“Oh, I’ve already won,” you said, tightening your hold on him.

Vil shook his head, muttering something about your insufferable sense of humor, but his posture relaxed as he continued his routine.

By the time he finished, the plushie had been completely forgotten, replaced entirely by the warm, smug human wrapped around his waist.

Idia Shroud

Idia shuffled back to his room after the dorm leaders' meeting, grumbling under his breath about its sheer redundancy.

"Like they really needed me there. My tablet could've handled it. Heck, I could’ve sent Ortho in my place! It’s not like I’m ever the one making decisions… What’s the point of—"

His mumbling came to an abrupt halt as he stepped into his room and saw you on the bed.

You were curled up against a giant teddy bear, console still in hand, the screen long since dimmed. Soft snores escaped you as you nestled deeper into the plushie's arms, utterly at peace.

Idia froze, his face instantly heating up. "Wha—?! W-why is this so—?!" His hair sparked pink as he clutched his hoodie, feeling like he was going to short-circuit.

The sight was almost too much. You, looking so cute and peaceful, holding a teddy bear like it was some kind of rival stealing his spot.

He fumbled for his phone, hands shaking slightly as he snapped several photos. “For, uh, research. Totally normal behavior. Definitely not for my… secret stash.” His whisper echoed a bit too loudly in the silent room.

But now he was faced with a dilemma.

On one hand, you looked so cozy, and the last thing he wanted to do was disturb you. On the other hand… he wanted to be that teddy bear.

Idia stood awkwardly at the foot of the bed, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, trying to decide what to do. He wrung his hands together, muttering to himself like a character weighing dialogue options.

"Option A: Let them sleep. Pros—cute and peaceful. Cons—no interaction.

Option B: Wake them up. Pros—I get attention. Cons—they might get mad."

Before he could settle on an answer, you stirred, stretching with a groggy yawn. Your eyes fluttered open, and you blinked at him standing there, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"Idia?" you mumbled, setting the console aside. You gave the teddy bear one final pat before tossing it away and reaching out to him. "C’mere.”

His heart skipped a beat. “M-me?!”

“Obviously you,” you teased with a sleepy smile, pulling him into a hug as soon as he got close enough.

Idia practically melted into your arms, his hair shifting to a bright pink. His smugness quickly returned, though, as he realized the teddy bear had been successfully ousted. "H-heh. +1 affection point for me," he muttered under his breath, his voice a mix of pride and shyness.

You raised an eyebrow, laughing softly. “Affection point? Idia, you already maxed out your affection gauge ages ago.”

His brain short-circuited again, and he buried his face in your shoulder, muffling a squeaky, “D-don’t say stuff like that!”

“Why not?” you teased, leaning back to look at his glowing face. “You’re adorable when you blush.”

Idia groaned dramatically, his hair flaring brighter as he tried to hide behind his bangs. But despite his embarrassment, he managed to wrap his arms around you, pulling you closer.

“Fine, whatever. Just… don’t let go, okay?” he muttered, his voice soft.

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Not a chance.”

From the corner of the room, the discarded teddy bear sat forgotten, a silent casualty in Idia’s victorious conquest for your affection.

Malleus Draconia

It had been a peaceful evening—stars twinkling, a cool breeze wafting through the window, and the promise of a lovely stroll under the moonlight. Malleus had been particularly pleased with the weather and decided to invite you for an evening walk.

He entered the room, his usual serene expression softening when his eyes fell upon you. But then, he froze.

There you were, curled up in bed, holding a plush dragon in your arms like it was the most comforting thing in the world.

A deep rumble echoed in the distance.

You blinked, sitting up slightly. “Was that… thunder?”

Before you could ponder further, a crack of lightning lit up the sky outside, followed by the booming roar of thunder that seemed to shake the walls. You stared out the window in disbelief.

“But it was perfectly clear two minutes ago!” you exclaimed.

Turning back to Malleus, you found him standing as still as a statue, his eyes narrowed and locked onto the offending plushie in your arms. The air around him practically crackled with energy.

“Uh… Malleus?” you ventured carefully, glancing between him and the plush.

His voice was low and serious, tinged with a hint of betrayal. “Is that what brings you comfort in my absence?”

You stared at him for a moment, then at the plushie, before the realization dawned. Suppressing a laugh, you decided to play along.

“Oh no, this?” you said, holding up the plush with exaggerated disdain. “This means nothing to me.”

Malleus arched a brow, clearly unconvinced, though his eyes remained laser-focused on the dragon-shaped invader.

To really drive the point home, you dramatically tossed the plush into the corner of the room. “See? It’s nothing compared to you, my most handsome, powerful dragon.”

You spread your arms and wrapped yourself around Malleus, resting your cheek against his shoulder. His stiff posture eased almost immediately, and the thunderstorm brewing outside dissipated as if it had never existed.

“Hmm,” he hummed, his voice quieter now but still holding a touch of haughtiness. “I suppose it’s only natural. I am your favorite dragon, after all.”

“You’re my only dragon,” you said with a chuckle, leaning back to look at him.

Malleus gazed down at you, his expression softening into something tender. “Good,” he murmured, placing a hand under your chin to tilt your face up. “I would hate to compete with a mere stuffed toy for your affection.”

You laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You’re lucky you’re so cute, you know that?”

He blinked, visibly startled by the compliment, his ears tinging slightly red. “Cute? I… I do not believe ‘cute’ is the word one typically uses to describe the future king of Briar Valley.”

“Well, I do,” you said, smiling mischievously as you planted another kiss on his lips.

Malleus let out a deep sigh, though the corners of his mouth quirked upward. “You are… quite the peculiar human, my love.”

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way,” you teased.

Malleus chuckled softly, pulling you closer. Outside, the weather had returned to the calm, moonlit serenity it was before—a perfect night for a walk. Though judging by the way Malleus held you now, neither of you seemed in any rush to leave.

Rollo Flamme

After a long day of dealing with incompetent council members, insufferable students, and the lingering stench of magic in the air, Rollo Flamme was finally free. As he walked into your shared room, his shoulders relaxed slightly at the thought of seeing you. Your presence was always the perfect antidote to his day’s irritations.

But then, he saw it.

There you were, curled up in bed, holding a plush dragon that was far too detailed for his liking. Its smug, embroidered eyes glinted in the soft light, as if mocking him. Worse, it was lounging on his side of the bed.

He froze mid-step, the betrayal hitting him like a thunderbolt.

You looked up, immediately noticing his stricken expression. “Rollo? Are you okay?”

He didn’t respond, his gaze locked on the plushie with such intensity it was a wonder it didn’t burst into flames.

You tilted your head, following his line of sight. “Oh, this?” you said, holding up the dragon plush with a smile. “I won it at the arcade today! Isn’t it cute?”

Glass shattering. Dramatic violins. Betrayal.

“...A dragon,” he said, his voice low and tight.

“Yeah,” you said, hugging it closer without realizing the depth of the offense. “It’s so soft, and look at its little wings! They’re kind of shiny—”

“Does it need wings?” he cut in sharply, glaring at the plush like it had personally insulted him.

You blinked. “Rollo, are you... mad at the plushie?”

He straightened immediately, huffing indignantly. “Mad? At a stuffed toy? Don’t be absurd.”

But the way his eyes flicked back to the plush betrayed him, the subtle narrowing of his gaze screaming volumes.

You couldn’t help it—you laughed. “Oh my gosh, you are mad! Is it because it’s a dragon? Does it remind you of Malleus?”

His jaw tightened. “I do not dignify such comparisons with a response.”

You grinned, setting the plush aside. “Well, if it bothers you so much, I can just put it away.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” he lied, though his shoulders eased a fraction when you stood and picked up the plushie.

“I’ll banish it to the closet,” you teased, waving the dragon plush dramatically before stuffing it into the closet. “There, see? Gone.”

Rollo exhaled quietly, his usual stoic demeanor returning. “Good. It’s for the best.”

You walked over and wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your cheek against his shoulder “You know you’re the only one I’d ever actually want to cuddle, right?”

His ears turned red, and he cleared his throat, but his arms instinctively came up to hold you close. “I would hope so,” he muttered, though his tone softened as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

As you snuggled against him, he allowed himself a moment of peace, though his mind wandered. He would have to get you something far superior—something elegant and tasteful. Perhaps a plush raven or something equally refined. Certainly nothing with wings or scales.

You smiled against his chest, feeling the tension leave his body. “You’re not still mad, are you?”

“No,” he said quickly. “But I’ll be... keeping an eye on your choice of arcade prizes in the future.”

You laughed, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Whatever you say, Rollo.”

Deep down, he wasn’t entirely sure if he’d won or lost this battle, but with your arms around him, he decided it didn’t really matter.

Masterlist

[happy74827]

Talk To Me

[Eggsy Unwin x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: With your boyfriend sneaking out 24/7 and always returning with carefully concealed injuries, it's only natural to be concerned.

WC: 3033

Category: Slight Angst + Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

I watched Carry-On last night (10/10 so good), and it got me re-thinking about one of my favorite films. Kingsman supremacy 🙌

『••✎••』

You loved Eggsy. Dearly. Truly.

You loved him so much that sometimes it scared you. How fiercely your heart clung to his smile, how tenderly your hands always seemed to reach for his, how naturally your entire world had shifted around him without you even realizing it. He was yours—scruffy, sweet Eggsy Unwin—and you believed you knew him. At least, you thought you did.

But then, the nights started.

At first, you didn’t think much of it. Everyone had their own struggles, and Eggsy never struck you as someone who’d open up easily about his. He’d always been the type to handle his own problems, to wear his hardships like armor rather than show them. But that was before the late-night disappearances, before the quiet footsteps across your floorboards, before you’d wake up in a cold bed at 3 a.m. to find him gone.

It didn’t happen all at once. It was gradual—so gradual you could almost convince yourself you were imagining it. One night turned into two. Two turned into a week. And before long, you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

The first time you tried to confront him, you did it gently. You’d asked him if everything was okay, masking your concern with casual curiosity. "You seem really tired lately, Eggsy. Is work being a pain?"

Eggsy had smiled, all teeth and dimples, and said, "Nah, luv. Just gotta lot on my plate, s’all."

You believed him because you wanted to.

But then there were the bruises.

The first one you noticed was along his jaw, faint and shadowed under the soft light of your kitchen. He’d winced when you kissed him there, just a tiny twitch of his lips, but enough to make you pull back. "You alright?" you’d asked.

Eggsy had waved you off. "Yeah, yeah, fine."

"Fine."

The word had felt too tight on his tongue, too forced. But you’d let it go because that’s what you did when someone you loved was hurting. You gave them space.

Except the bruises kept coming, each one a little harder to miss than the last. The faint cut above his brow, the stiffness in his shoulders when you hugged him, the way he’d flinch—just barely—when your fingers brushed against his ribs. And you noticed. Of course, you did. How could you not?

There was the other stuff, too. The sudden shift in his wardrobe. Gone were the trainers and bomber jackets, replaced with sharp suits and polished shoes. He’d started wearing glasses—ridiculous little round things that didn’t even have a prescription—and he carried himself differently now. Straighter. More serious. It wasn’t that you didn’t like the change. You did. Eggsy looked good in a suit, and you’d told him as much. But it was the why that lingered in the back of your mind.

Everything about him was changing, and yet you were still supposed to believe he was fine.

You weren’t stupid.

And so tonight, when you’d felt him slip out of bed yet again, something inside you had snapped. Enough was enough.

You stayed awake, feigning sleep as you listened to him shuffle around the room. You heard the soft clink of his belt buckle, the muted sound of a zipper, and then the quiet groan he let out as he bent to tie his shoes. He was trying to be quiet, but you could feel his movements, his tension, the exhaustion radiating off of him like smoke.

The front door closed behind him.

For a moment, you thought about following him. Your mind painted a dozen possibilities—none of them good—and the urge to know was almost overwhelming. But something held you back. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was the sick feeling that if you saw what Eggsy was hiding, you wouldn’t be able to unsee it.

So, instead, you stayed. You waited.

And you waited.

Hours slipped by, the quiet hum of the room punctuated only by the ticking of the clock and the occasional thump of your restless heartbeat. You sat in the darkness, curled up on the couch with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company.

It was almost dawn when you heard it—the sound of keys fumbling at the door.

Your breath caught as the door swung open, and there he was. Eggsy. Exhausted, disheveled, and dragging himself inside like he’d just run a marathon. He tripped over the shoes you’d left by the door, letting out a hushed curse as he stumbled and caught himself on the wall. "For fuck’s sake…"

You watched him for a long moment, your heart twisting. His shoulders were slumped, his face pale under the bruises, and there was an air of defeat clinging to him that you’d never seen before.

Your hand hovered over the lamp beside you.

Click.

Light flooded the room.

Eggsy froze. His wide, tired eyes met yours, and for a second, neither of you said anything.

"…Where were you?"

Your voice came out steady—colder than you intended—but you didn’t care. You needed answers.

Eggsy straightened up, wincing slightly as he did, and ran a hand through his messy hair. "What’re you doin’ awake?"

"Where were you, Eggsy?" you repeated, softer this time.

He opened his mouth to answer, but you saw the hesitation in his eyes. That flicker of guilt, of indecision. And it hurt.

You watched him—really watched him—take in the situation, his gaze darting from you to the lamp and back again. He looked so tired, the dark circles under his eyes stark against the pale exhaustion in his face. His bottom lip pulled tight between his teeth, and for a fleeting moment, you thought he might lie to you.

He always did that when he was nervous, chewing his lip like he was trying to hold the words inside.

And then he sighed.

"Look, luv—"

"No." You cut him off, surprising even yourself with the sharpness in your voice. Your heart was pounding now, a steady thud in your chest, and you swallowed the knot rising in your throat. "Don’t 'look, love' me, Eggsy. I’ve given you space. I’ve ignored the bruises. I’ve let you—whatever this is—carry on without question. But not anymore."

Eggsy’s mouth closed. He shifted on his feet, his wince almost imperceptible, but you caught it. You always caught it.

"Are you hurt?" you asked, voice trembling slightly despite the resolve you tried to hold. Your eyes dropped to the faint, bloodied scrape on his knuckles and the stiff way he held his side. "Jesus, Eggsy…"

"I’m fine." The words came out fast—too fast—and though they were meant to be firm, they only sounded hollow.

You flinched like the word was a slap. "You’re not fine."

He sighed again, this time deeper, and rubbed a hand over his face. "It’s complicated."

"Complicated?" you echoed, your voice pitching with disbelief. "Complicated is when you forget an anniversary or don’t know how to split rent. This isn’t complicated, Eggsy—this is you sneaking out in the middle of the night and coming home bruised and battered, and I’m scared."

There it was. The confession you’d been holding back. The thing that had been gnawing at you for weeks, clawing at your chest every time he slipped away. Your voice broke slightly, the words tumbling out like a dam had burst, and Eggsy’s face softened in a way that almost broke you.

You could see the guilt then, raw and unguarded, etched into the lines of his expression. He took a cautious step forward, but you held up a hand, needing the space to breathe.

"Do you…" Your voice faltered. You didn’t want to say it—didn’t want to voice the fear that had whispered in your mind during the loneliest hours of those nights. “Do you not trust me, Eggsy? Is there something you can’t tell me?”

Eggsy’s head snapped up at that, his brow knitting as if you’d insulted him. "What? No. No, it’s not like that."

"Then what is it?" Your voice cracked, and for the first time since this all started, you felt your eyes sting with tears. "Because I’m running out of scenarios, Eggsy. I thought maybe… maybe it was someone else, maybe you’d stopped loving me. But then I’d see the bruises, and I’d hear you groaning in your sleep, and…" You trailed off, pressing a hand to your forehead. "I can’t keep pretending everything’s fine when you’re falling apart right in front of me."

The room was silent save for your quiet, unsteady breaths. For a moment, you thought Eggsy wouldn’t answer, that he’d slip into that shell of his again and leave you stranded in this mess of unanswered questions.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he crossed the room in two quick strides, cupped your face in his hands, and kissed you.

It wasn’t a soft kiss—not like the ones he’d give you after long days or lazy mornings. It was desperate and grounding, like he needed to make sure you were real and that you still loved him despite everything. You froze for half a second, caught off guard by the sudden warmth of his lips on yours before you melted into it. Your hands gripped his wrists, holding onto him like an anchor as your heart hammered against your ribcage.

When he finally pulled away, you stared at him, breathless and reeling.

"Eggsy—"

"I’m sorry," he muttered, his forehead resting gently against yours. "I didn’t… I didn’t mean to make you think that. Any of that." His voice was low and earnest, the accent softening as the words spilled out. "You’re the only good thing in my life, alright? The only thing that keeps me goin’. It ain’t you—it’s me. I’m just… I’m tryin’ to keep you safe."

"Safe?" Your brows furrowed as you leaned back to look at him. "Safe from what, Eggsy?"

He hesitated. You could see the war playing out in his eyes—the push and pull of wanting to tell you the truth but still trying to protect you from it. He was holding something back; you knew that much. Something big.

Finally, he exhaled slowly. "It’s work. The bruises, the nights—I can’t tell you everything, but you gotta trust me when I say I’m doin’ it for you. For us."

"Eggsy…"

His thumb brushed along your cheek, and you realized then that you were crying—just a little.

"You’re right," he admitted softly, the words heavy with guilt. "I shoulda told you somethin’. Not everythin’, but… somethin’. I just didn’t want you to worry, love. Didn’t want you to see this part o’ me." He smiled faintly, the corners of his lips tilting upward. "You deserve better than this mess."

You stared at him, the boy who had somehow become a man without you noticing. His rough edges were still there—still scrappy, still stubborn—but there was something more now, too. He carried weight on his shoulders, weight he hadn’t let you see until tonight.

"I don’t care about the mess," you whispered, your hands sliding down to hold his. "I care about you. And if you’re hurting, I want to know. I want to help."

Eggsy blinked at you like he wasn’t sure he deserved to hear that. Then he pulled you into his arms, wrapping you up tightly as if trying to shield you from the rest of the world.

"You’re mental, you know that?" he mumbled into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. "Too good for me, you are."

Eggsy was warm against you, his arms solid and grounding, but you couldn’t let yourself melt into it—not entirely. Not when you could still feel the lingering tremor in his body, the careful way he was holding you like he was afraid of falling apart completely if he let go.

So you didn’t let it slide. Not this time.

You pulled back slightly, enough to look at him, your hands sliding to rest against his chest. He avoided your eyes for a beat too long, gaze flicking toward the floor as if the answers to all of your questions were scattered across the floorboards.

"Eggsy," you said softly, forcing him to look at you. "You’re doing it again."

His brows furrowed slightly. "Doin’ what?"

"Avoiding." You swallowed hard, your voice gentle but firm. "You keep saying you’re trying to protect me, but from what? From you? From whatever it is you’ve gotten yourself into? I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with half-truths and cryptic excuses."

He didn’t answer. His jaw clenched, his lips pressing into a tight line as the silence stretched between you like a taut wire. You watched him, the Eggsy you knew—the one who laughed too loudly, who lit up rooms with his smile—hidden behind this new, heavier version of himself. A man weighed down by secrets you weren’t allowed to touch.

You felt your throat tighten. "If you’re in trouble, I need to know."

"I’m not—"

"Gary." You said his name softly, but with enough weight that he stopped, his shoulders sagging just a little under your gaze. You could see the walls going back up, the way his expression started to close off again, and your heart ached. This wasn’t about control. It wasn’t about digging into things he didn’t want to share. This was about him—the man you loved. The man standing in front of you with bruises and exhaustion, painting him in shades of worry and pain you didn’t recognize.

"I love you," you whispered, the words breaking through the quiet. His head snapped up, his eyes finally locking onto yours. "I love you, Eggsy. But this—" you gestured gently between the two of you "—this isn’t fair. You don’t get to shoulder all of this alone. Not when I’m right here."

You could see the cracks in his resolve then, the guilt splintering through his expression like fractures in glass. Eggsy exhaled, a heavy breath that deflated his entire posture, and he reached up to cup your cheek again, his thumb brushing faintly at the tears still lingering there.

"It ain’t trouble," he muttered after a long pause, his voice low and rough like gravel. "Not like you’re thinkin’. I ain’t into anythin’ shady, I swear."

"Then what is it?" you asked softly. "Please, Eggsy. I’m not leaving. I’m not running. I just need to know what’s doing this to you."

He hesitated again, clearly grappling with something you couldn’t see. For the briefest moment, you thought he might tell you—might rip off the Band-Aid and let you into whatever world he’d been keeping you out of. But then, as if on instinct, he sighed and shook his head, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before resting his own against it again.

"You don’t wanna know, luv," he murmured, voice so soft it nearly disappeared into the space between you. "I promise you don’t."

You stared at him, your heart twisting painfully. You could feel it now—the invisible door he was trying to close, to lock between you—and the worst part was, you knew he thought he was doing the right thing. He thought he was protecting you.

But all you felt was the sting of being shut out.

"This isn’t fair," you said again, your voice trembling slightly. "You don’t get to decide what I can and can’t handle, Eggsy."

His lips parted slightly, and for once, he didn’t have a rebuttal. He just looked at you—really looked at you—as if weighing the woman in front of him against whatever dark reality he’d been hiding.

"I can handle it," you pressed, your voice steady this time. "Whatever it is, I can handle it. I can handle you."

Eggsy pulled back slightly, his hands slipping to your shoulders. There was a flicker of conflict in his eyes, and for the first time that night, you saw a hint of vulnerability beneath the surface. "It ain’t about you not bein’ strong enough," he said finally, his words slow and deliberate. "It’s about me not wantin’ you to see the worst parts of what I do."

"What you do?" you repeated carefully, and you saw him flinch—just barely—like he’d said too much.

"Eggsy, I don’t…"

He let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his messy hair. "Jesus Christ, I’m shite at this."

Your eyes searched his. Part of you wanted to press further—to keep pushing until the dam broke—but the other part could see his exhaustion, the way he was leaning slightly against the counter like his legs were struggling to hold him up. He looked so tired. So defeated. And you hated it.

You let out a soft sigh, taking his hand and lacing your fingers through his.

He stiffened.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. There was a question lingering between you, the same one you knew he was struggling to answer.

Tell her.

Don't.

It felt like an eternity had passed when you finally said his name, squeezing his hand gently.

His gaze lifted to yours.

And you let it go.

You didn't push. You didn't demand. You didn't ask. Because this wasn't a fight, you were going to win.

He wasn't ready.

So, instead, you just said, "Promise me something."

"Yeah?"

You hesitated, the words feeling heavier on your tongue than they had any right to be. You swallowed the lump rising in your throat and whispered, "Promise me you’ll come home."

Eggsy stilled.

It wasn't much of a request—more of a desperate hope that this wasn't all leading to some unavoidable ending you weren't ready for. It was an offer of surrender. A silent, exhausted plea to put the pieces back together, to stitch up the cracks before they could break.

He studied you, his tired eyes roaming over the lines of your face as if he could read the question lingering there.

And then he pulled you into his arms, a hand cradling the back of your head. You felt the warmth of his embrace, the weight of his body against yours, and your arms wrapped around him as tightly as you could. For a second, you weren’t sure if he would answer. If he even could.

And then, in the softest voice you'd ever heard, he whispered, "Always."

"For you, always."

[kyeomofhearts]

Back For More | J.WW

+ summary: while adjusting to your new life in college, you couldn't help but attract the attention of wonwoo, someone you happened to share a history with.

+ pairing: badboy!wonwoo x fem!reader

+ word count: 4.5k

+ content: badboy!wonwoo, college au, mature language, jealousy, angst, suggestive, possessive wonwoo (yum), teasing, a lot of dialogue for sure, fluff?, please lmk if i missed anything tyyyy!

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

[ᝰ.ᐟ] glad you guys enjoyed part one!!! 🥹 i really appreciate the lovely comments you all left <333 i know this took forever for me to post but i swear i didn't mean to. currently writing part three as we speak so it will definitely come out within these following months or so... anyways, this wasn't proofread so please excuse any mistakes i may have made! as always, don't be scared to comment because i quite literally thrive on your guys' comments and reblogs! :)

Two weeks. Two full weeks of your torture.

Wonwoo was pretty shocked, to say the least. He wasn’t aware of the lengths you would take to ignore him. Sure, it was his fault for going off on you but he was sorry. He knew what he had said to you that day upset you, but he didn't know it was going to end up like this. And now he was at a loss, he wasn’t sure on how to navigate this 'predicament' between the two of you.

Wonwoo obviously knew that he had to apologize to you but he also knew that you needed space. Which is exactly what he did for those first few days after the ‘fight’ had occurred. He gave you space for a day or two but then, those two days turned into five... and before he knew it, two weeks had passed.

Of course, it’s not like Wonwoo didn’t try to talk to you but it was kind of difficult when you would run away at the mere sight of him. It also didn't help that any of his attempts for forgiveness were typically greeted with your indifference, it was as if you had walled yourself off completely.

To make matters worse, anytime that Wonwoo was able to see you, Hyunwoo was right by your side. It was troubling, to say the least. He couldn't quite put his finger on why the sight of you with Hyunwoo stirred such unease within him but it did and he hated it.

Out of everyone on this campus, you were giving Hyunwoo your time and attention? It just didn't make sense to Wonwoo. You barely knew the guy!

Not that he was jealous or anything but… there was something about Hyunwoo that he didn't trust. His easy 'charm' and 'magnetic' personality seemed almost too good to be true, and Wonwoo couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to him than met the eye. He was definitely hiding something.

And so, Wonwoo found himself in limbo, caught between the regret of his past actions and the uncertainty of what would happen between him and you. He hoped for the chance to set things right, to close the gap that had formed between the two of you, but he couldn't help but wonder if it was already too late.

Until then, all he could do was wait for another opportunity.

[...]

To say that you were bored was an understatement. Ignoring Wonwoo for two weeks was beginning to take its toll on you. Life had suddenly become only about your job and classes which was... exhausting.

Granted, you did make it your life mission to ignore him any chance you were given but there was no point in dwelling on that. It was quite easy going no-contact with him considering that you didn't share any socials with him. A small part of you did occasionally miss when you would get randomly bothered by Wonwoo, it was a nice distraction from whatever you were thinking about at that moment.

Other than that...

Life was pretty uneventful if you were being honest with yourself. Your days were usually filled with school assignments and work so there wasn't anything that could help you keep your mind away from Wonwoo. And it didn't help that your friends had gone radio silent on you either.

Some might say that you were taking your pettiness too far but you couldn't help yourself! Sure, you and Wonwoo were not at the level where you could practically share everything with each other but how else were you supposed to react to his obvious injuries? Like... did he want you to just ignore his bruised face and act like everything was fine and dandy? You despised how much this whole situation still bothered you even after a few weeks had passed since it occurred.

Maybe it wouldn't hurt to hear Wonwoo out-

"Hellooo? Yn!"

Your head snapped towards the direction where you heard your name come from. Of course, it was Hyunwoo.

"I've been calling your name like crazy! Are you deaf or something?" His voice was laced with annoyance but you could tell that he was trying to play it cool.

You don't know if it was because you were always sleep-deprived but recently, Hyunwoo had been getting on your nerves. Hyunwoo was just too clingy for your liking, always feeling the need to be around you any chance he could. It was bothersome if anything.

“Sorry I was distracted, what did you need?” You tried to sound nice but couldn't help the irritation from slipping into your tone.

Hyunwoo scoffed. "Well, I just wanted to invite you to this party on Friday." He stepped closer to you, there was a mischievous glint in his eyes.

He continued, "I know parties aren't really your thing but... please think about it at least?"

You hesitated, your mind automatically going through your schedule. You were definitely open on Friday, but the thought of going to a party wasn't exactly appealing to you. Especially not with the current state of your social life.

You mulled over his proposition for a few seconds.

"Uh, thanks for the invite, but I think I'll pass," you replied, trying to sound casual.

Hyunwoo raised an eyebrow, his playful demeanor turning into one of disbelief. "Pass? Come on, yn, when was the last time you actually went out and had some fun?"

Ugh. His words hit a little too close to home. You knew he was right, but the idea of going out without knowing anyone felt daunting. You knew that there was surely something better you could do on a Friday night but a small part of you was curious about the party. Maybe you should at least check it out, that wouldn't hurt, right?

You looked at Hyunwoo and exhaled.

"Okay fine, I'll go with you," you playfully nudged his arm before continuing, "under the condition that I can leave whenever I want."

Hyunwoo couldn't help but roll his eyes and scoff at your 'terms and conditions', but he accepted it either way.

"Sure, oh and trust me, you won't want to leave, I'll make sure of that," Hyunwoo said as he looked at the time on his phone noting that he had a few minutes left. He patted your back before bidding you goodbye to attend his next class.

You weren't sure if it was you but there was something off about his reply. But before you could dwell on it further, your phone suddenly buzzed with a notification, forcing you back to reality.

[www.onwoo requested to follow you.]

Oh.

Okay, now you have a lot of questions. How did he even find you? Was it through one of your friends? Why now? God you knew this was going to eat you up for the next few hours or maybe even days.

Nevertheless, you accepted his friend request and even went as far as to add him as a friend. That should be okay, right?

You slipped your phone back into your pocket as you got closer to your class. Surely your lecture would at least help you take him off your mind.

Wrong.

When you entered the classroom you noticed that the seating arrangement had been changed. There were a few students still standing at the front who looked just as confused as you. After a few more students came to the class the professor eventually got up to address the situation.

"For those that are coming in, I have changed your assigned seats for the rest of the semester! If you look at the board you will also see that I have grouped you into pairs, and to make it convenient I have sat you with your partner so you do not have to struggle with finding them. If you have any questions please do not hesitate to ask me!"

Okay, this was different but not necessarily bad. You looked towards the board to see who you had been paired with and you felt your stomach drop down to the pits of Hell.

[yn | wonwoo]

If you were going to be honest you completely forgot Wonwoo was even in this class in the first place.

If there was a God out there, then they for sure failed you today. This was very unfortunate for you, but there wasn't anything that could be done about it. So you begrudgingly made your way to your assigned seat, right next to Wonwoo.

You took a quick glance over his figure noting his dark attire. There wasn't anything special about it but just seeing him in a simple black shirt and sweats was doing a lot of things to you. Why was the room hot all of a sudden?

After getting yourself situated in your seat, you felt his eyes surveying your figure. Part of you wanted to turn to see if he was actually looking at you but that would just be another win for him so you decided to keep your gaze on the board. Just focus on the lecture.

"yn." Wonwoo said in a somewhat muted tone, tapping a finger on your arm.

Well, that didn't last long.

You hated how much of an effect his voice still had on you, that deep tone always giving you goosebumps. Surprisingly, you still managed to keep your eyes on the lecture, you wanted to see how far he would go to get your attention.

Though your silence didn't amuse Wonwoo, in fact, it annoyed him. He hated not being able to annoy you, maybe even going as far as to say that he missed talking to you. Of course, he wouldn't have been in this situation had he not snapped at you that day but he was really trying to earn your forgiveness. He was willing to do anything at this point. So he leaned towards you, his cologne invading your senses. God, why did he have to smell so good?

"Can you stop ignoring me? I gave you enough space already," he said in a hushed, irritated tone.

You looked at him, trying your best to not laugh at how desperate he was beginning to sound. His usually calm and collected persona was beginning to crumble down into a hopeless mess. Feeling playful, you decided to torture him just a little bit.

"I don't think I want to, it's been kind of fun not having you around," You whispered back, turning your gaze at the board so you wouldn't have to see his reaction. Just for the fun of it, you decided to egg him on a little further, "Maybe try again later."

As you focused on the board, you could practically feel the tension radiating from Wonwoo beside you. His irritation was palpable, his patience wearing thin as he struggled to contain his frustration.

But despite your playful defiance, a small part of you couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. Maybe you were being too harsh on him, too stubborn to admit that you missed whatever you had going on with him. Deep down, you knew that ignoring Wonwoo wasn't going to solve anything, that it was only prolonging the inevitable confrontation you both needed to have.

As the lecture droned on in the background, the weight of Wonwoo's presence beside you grew heavier with each passing minute. You could sense him fidgeting in his seat, his frustration simmering beneath the surface as he grappled with your stubborn silence.

Maybe it was time that you stopped pushing him away.

Finally unable to bear the tension any longer, you cleared your throat.

"Okay fine, I'll stop ignoring you but don't think that I have forgiven you yet." Your eyes lingered on his face, his cuts and bruises had noticeably healed but they were still evident.

Wonwoo's tense figure visibly relaxed at your words. Even though it was only a small step, Wonwoo felt as if he had already won the lottery.

After another hour had passed, the lecture had finally come to an end. You didn't have any plans after this so you were excited to just spend the day doing whatever. But just as you were about to slip out of your seat, Wonwoo's voice stopped you in your tracks.

"Wait for me," he said, his voice softer than before.

Seeing Wonwoo like this was quite... weird. His demeanor towards you was a complete contrast to his usual confident self. It was kind of unnerving.

After that, Wonwoo began to gather his belongings, even going as far as gently taking your bag from your hand. He slid the bag onto his shoulder, not caring about the fact that he looked ridiculous wearing his regular backpack with your tote.

"I can carry my bag," you said as you tried reaching for it.

Wonwoo quickly moved away before you could even land a finger on your tote. "Let me carry it for you, please." His tone was sincere this time, almost pleading if anything.

With a reluctant sigh, you began to make your way out of the classroom, allowing Wonwoo to fall into step beside you as you made your way out of the lecture hall. The hallway was relatively quiet, the sounds of footsteps echoing against the tiled floor as you passed by other students.

As you walked side by side with Wonwoo, you couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that gnawed at the edges of your thoughts.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you like a physical barrier. As you rounded the corner, you stole a glance at Wonwoo, taking in the uncertainty etched into his features. It was strange to see him like this, vulnerable and unsure, but there was also something oddly endearing about it.

"What's going on? You're acting really weird right now," you finally blurted out, unable to contain your curiosity any longer.

Wonwoo's steps faltered slightly at your question, his gaze flickering away before returning to meet yours. "Can't I do something nice for my friend?" he replied, his voice tinged with a tiny hint of defensiveness.

You blinked, taken aback by Wonwoo's response. "Friend?" you echoed, the word feeling foreign on your tongue. It had been weeks since you and Wonwoo had exchanged more than a few words with each other, but even before that, you weren't necessarily sure you could call him a friend. Sure you've known him for the majority of your life but that was really it, growing up your friend groups rarely interacted so it's not like you actually knew anything about him. He just always happened to be there.

Did he seriously consider you as a friend?

Wonwoo's steps came to an abrupt stop, he shifted uncomfortably beside you, his gaze flickering away for a moment before returning to meet yours. "Well, yeah. I mean, aren't we?" he asked, his voice laced with uncertainty.

The question hung in the air between you, heavy with unspoken implications and unresolved tension. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, searching for the right words to express the swirling thoughts and emotions that churned within you.

"I don't know, Wonwoo," you finally admitted, your voice quiet but resolute. "I get that we've known each other for a long time but... I wouldn't exactly call us friends."

His face flashed a hint of hurt before he looked away from you. The silence following between the two of you was almost suffocating.

"That's fair I guess." His voice returned to that stoic tone that you had grown accustomed to.

Wonwoo's response hung in the air for a second, thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. You could feel the weight of his disappointment pressing down on you, mingling with your own sense of unease.

"I didn't mean it like that," you interjected hastily, the words tumbling out in a rush. "It's just... weird you know? We've been around each other for so long but I don't know anything about you and you don't know anything about me."

His gaze remained fixed on the ground, his expression unreadable. "I know," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the footsteps of the people passing by. "But we can always change that." Wonwoo was now completely looking at you, his gaze filled with something you couldn't quite pinpoint.

He continued, "Look, I'm sorry I spoke to you that way. I was really irritated by what had happened but I figured that being with you would put me in a better mood," he paused for a second, "I know that it was unfair of me to do that to you and I'll make sure that it won't happen again." Wonwoo's eyes were soft and sincere as he spoke to you.

It was shocking in a way, seeing how vulnerable he was being with you. For someone who usually displayed himself on the 'cooler' side, he really did know how to be genuine with you.

It was also overwhelming. Everything about this felt too intimate for you. From the way Wonwoo was looking at you to the way he voiced out his apology; it was just too much for you.

You had to do something.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to accept his apology, it was about time anyway.

"Okay, fine. I get it, we all have our off days," turning to face his side, you made a playful jab into his ribs, "but if you ever do anything like that again I will kill you." You tried your best to maintain a somewhat serious face but couldn't help but let out a giggle as soon as you saw Wonwoo squirm from your touch.

And just like that, the tension that had once felt suffocating was now gone, as if it had never been there in the first place; or at least so you thought.

What you didn't know was that Wonwoo was completely aware of your little diversion tactic. He noticed the subtle shift in your eyes while he was apologizing to you, he just chose not to say anything. But he'll play along at least for now.

“So…are we officially back to being besties?” Wonwoo decided to say teasingly, his eyes looking at you expectantly.

You stare at him momentarily with an unimpressed look before breaking into a smile. Although you've known Wonwoo for a while, you would have never thought he could joke around like this, especially with you.

And well... it wouldn't hurt if you played with him a little more.

“I’ll say yes if you buy me a smoothie from the stand over there.” You pointed toward the barely visible smoothie stand that was parked a bit farther from the window where you and Wonwoo stood.

It was the same smoothie spot from a few weeks ago only this time they were in a small cart. Although they did have their own shop near the area, the owners would occasionally bring a little cart around the campus to help bring more people in.

Wonwoo let out a low chuckle before asking you, "Do you want the same thing from last time?”

Last time? There was absolutely no way that he was talking about your order from two weeks ago.

You quirked your eyebrow up at him, "…And just how sure are you that you remember my order?"

Okay, to be fair, it's not like you had a complicated order, but it would be surprising if Wonwoo was able to remember it considering that he only heard you order that smoothie once.

Wonwoo looked over to you once again, a small smirk taking over his features. "I'll have you know that it also happens to be my favorite so don't get too excited now," he said in a provocative tone.

Ugh, he was so annoying.

Before you could give his response any more thought Wonwoo had wordlessly started walking toward the smoothie stand, effectively leaving you behind. But rather than following him all the way to the stand you decided to find seating, preferably under the shade. It's been getting hot, you noticed it's especially true when Wonwoo is around.

After finding a spot under the shade you begin to mindlessly scroll on your phone. It wasn't too long after you sat down that a notification got a hold of your attention.

[www.onwoo wants to send you a message.]

Oh god. What did he possibly want now?

[www.onwoo] why didn't you come with me? :(

Before accepting his message request you glanced over to the smoothie stand, the line was pretty long now but Wonwoo had made it just in time to get his order in before the rush. As you were looking at him, he turned his gaze toward you making you immediately look back down on your phone.

[you] it's only a one-man job. also you look ridiculous with my bag.

Wonwoo softly scoffed at your message and looked in your direction. You weren't looking at him anymore but he was still able to see a small smile on your face.

[www.onwoo] i'll have you know that i already had 3 girls compliment me on the bag 😼

You rolled your eyes before shooting back a reply.

[you] i have immaculate taste that's why.

A few chat bubbles popped in and out before they eventually disappeared altogether. It wasn't long after that you heard footsteps quickly making their way toward you.

Just as you lifted your head upwards you heard Wonwoo's confident voice announce his arrival.

“One large smoothie for my little birdy.” He smiled as he spoke, knowing that you absolutely despised that nickname.

You squinted at him in disapproval, “And here I thought that nickname was officially gone for good.”

Wonwoo chuckled at that. He then proceeded to take a sip of your smoothie before officially handing it off to you.

You stayed frozen for a second before grabbing the smoothie and wiping the straw with your shirt.

Absolutely no indirect kisses will be occurring today.

Getting up from your spot, you begin to mindlessly walk toward the closest pathway near you, the weather is pretty nice today. After a few steps, you turned around to see a rather puzzled Wonwoo looking back at you but he still followed nonetheless.

“You’re a little too chirpy today… what happened to the oh-so-serious biker? Hmm?” You playfully poked at him as you said it, enjoying the sweet flavor of the smoothie he had gotten for you.

Wonwoo scoffed softly, holding back his laugh, “He’s still here, he just happens to be in a good mood now that his little birdy is talking to him again.”

But before you can even think of a snarky response Wonwoo continued.

“But if that’s what you’re into then I can always play the part for you,” he said with a smirk, his words smothered in arrogance.

You scoffed, amused by the implication he made. “Ew it’s definitely not like that.”

“Oh, but it can be.” Wonwoo moved closer to you, effectively closing the space between you both. His cologne invaded your senses once again; this time, it was proving much more difficult for you to escape from his grasp. His gaze was unwavering as he looked at your face or to be more exact, your lips.

After what felt like an eternity, Wonwoo finally pulled himself away from you. He smirked at the very flustered state that he had just left you in. It was clear that there was a mutual attraction between the two of you, an attraction you were trying to reject.

It was a challenge that Wonwoo was more than ready to handle.

You cleared your throat, "As fun as it was hanging out after class... I think that it's about time for me to head back home," you said as you recomposed yourself.

Technically speaking, there wasn't anything waiting for you back at your place but you felt that if you stayed a second longer things would definitely escalate between the two of you.

And again, your little stunt didn't go unnoticed by Wonwoo but he also wasn't surprised, if anything, he expected you to pull away like this. That was one of the first things he had noticed when he initially started talking to you, always leaving before things could really develop. It was cute in a way, but he was eventually going to get you out of your shell, it was only a matter of when.

Wonwoo faintly smiled to himself, “Okay but before I let you go, we should come up with a day to start our project together.”

Fuck. You forgot about that.

He continued, “How about this Friday? I have nothing going on that day.” Wonwoo's eyes landed on your figure as you went on your phone to check your work schedule for the upcoming week.

“Ugh, I have to go out with Hyunwoo that day,” you said just as your eyes landed on Sunday, it was completely open.

“…but how about this Sunday? I don’t work that day.” You looked up toward Wonwoo's eyes, hopeful that it could work out.

A million thoughts raced through Wonwoo's head. You're going out with Hyunwoo? Like as in a date or...? No, he has to stay composed.

“That works for me,” he mumbled, his gaze went toward the ground, kicking a few pebbles before looking at you once again, “but what’s going on with you and Hyunwoo?”

You couldn't help but laugh at Wonwoo's question which earned you a scowl from him. God, you were going to have so much fun with this.

“Why do you ask?” This was the perfect opportunity to get back at Wonwoo for teasing you earlier so like the tease that you are, you decided to play dumb with him. “Are you perhaps… jealous?” You said with a loud gasp as a way to rile him up, your hands flying to your mouth for dramatic effect.

You continued, "Don't worry Hyunwoo is just a boy who also happens to be my friend." Wonwoo's face physically hardened at the idea of Hyunwoo being your boyfriend. He knew that you saw him on a regular basis but he had yet to see any real signs that you were actually dating him.

Patting his back in a comforting manner you then explained, "Relax, don't get your panties in a twist. If you have to know, Hyunwoo is just a friend." While it was fun teasing him you most certainly did not want him to get the wrong idea about you and Hyunwoo.

"But if I'm being honest it was kind of fun bullying you, I should do that more often." It couldn't be helped! You just had to add that last part.

Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “Oh wow, who knew you were a sadist.” His tone was playful, an evil grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he played along with your banter.

Your jaw dropped at his comment, huffing out a loud, “Wonwoo!”

He raised his hands up in a surrender, “I'm kidding! I'm kidding… or maybe not.” Which then earned him a slap on his bicep.

“You truly are shameless,” you muttered out loud for him to hear.

By this point, Wonwoo had taken the lead as the two of you walked away from the courtyard. It was only until you were at the school's parking lot that you realized that he had purposely taken you here.

There was a beat of silence before Wonwoo let out a soft sigh. "Would you look at that... my bike happens to be over there..." He nudged you in the direction of where he had parked his bike a few hours prior.

Wonwoo let out another pathetic sigh, "It would be rude of me to just let you walk back home you know?" This time he grabbed a hold of your hand as he led you directly in front of his bike.

Your eyes almost bulged out of your head at the implication that he just made. There's absolutely no way that you are getting on his bike.

"Uh... I'm not so sure this is a good idea Won-"

Wonwoo shushes you and hands you a spare helmet, a shit-eating grin plastered over his stupidly handsome face.

"Just trust me," he says as he slides your tote inside his backpack, "that should hold everything in place." Wonwoo then handed the backpack to you, waiting for you to put it on, his eyes landing on your terrified figure.

This was going to be fun.

Part Three: Coming Soon…

[verstappenverse]

A Fine Line

Requested by anon: "Would you ever do a fake dating fic with Max? I think that could be fun maybe they go to a wedding or have to share a bed or is for PR, you choose :)"

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Forced to fake date for PR, you and Max attend a high-profile wedding only to realise that maybe some feelings can’t be faked. - fake dating / one bed trope / enemies to lovers

Author’s note: Sorry this one took a while anon, it ended up being a bit longer than originally planned! I hope you enjoy 🫶🏼

6k words / Masterlist

The first time you met Max Verstappen you were there on assignment, shadowing a day in the life of a driver for an in-depth feature. Max, already a world champion, was an enigma you’d been eager to unravel—intense, brilliant, and the name on everyone’s lips.

You approached him tentatively, armed with your questions and a cautious smile, but it didn’t take long to realise that interviews were the last thing on his mind that day. Polite but curt, he answered with the bare minimum, his gaze constantly darting back toward the garage as if he had better things to do. He wasn’t rude exactly, just detached, his focus entirely on the next session.

“What’s the hardest part of juggling fame and racing?” you’d asked, pen poised.

He glanced at you briefly before replying, “I don’t really think about it.”

The conversation didn’t improve from there.

You wrote it off as part of his intense personality—laser-focused, unapologetic, and unwilling to entertain distractions. But something about his demeanour irked you, even then. You didn’t know if it was the confidence or arrogance of someone who knew he was the best and knew he had nothing to prove off-track.

The article went to print, and you moved on thinking Max Verstappen would be a footnote in your career, nothing more than an anecdote about difficult interviews. You were wrong.

Over the next few years, your paths crossed more times than you could count as your company expanded into motorsports media. First, it was another feature, this time at a glitzy sponsor event where Max was as uninterested in mingling as ever. Then a mid-season documentary where you were assigned to follow his team for a week. Somewhere along the way, what had started as indifference between you two evolved into a dynamic you couldn’t quite define.

There was a sharpness to your interactions, an edge that didn’t seem to dull no matter how often you met. Max would roll his eyes when you asked questions he deemed unnecessary, and you’d pointedly ignore him when he made sarcastic comments under his breath. But beneath the mutual irritation, there was something else—an understanding, perhaps, that neither of you acknowledged but both of you felt.

You could see it in the way his friends teased him whenever you were around.

“Careful Max,” Daniel had said once, smirking as he leaned against the garage wall. “You two together, it’s better than most reality TV.”

Max had glared at him but didn’t deny it, which only made Daniel laugh harder. He shot back a dry, “At least it’s not fake,” earning a round of chuckles from the surrounding crew.

You gave as good as you got, though. After one particularly grueling race weekend, when Max had snapped at a camera crew for invading his space, you’d quipped, “Does the championship leader need a nap?”

He’d glared at you but couldn’t quite hide the twitch of amusement at the corner of his mouth.

The dynamic became part of the paddock lore, your sharp-tongued sparring and his witty retorts, both of you unwilling to back down. Beneath the teasing and the occasional tension, there was a begrudging respect. Max never dismissed your work outright, and you never underestimated his talent.

Deep into the 2024 season your manager called you into an emergency meeting, the kind where the tension was palpable before anyone had even spoke. You’d been sitting across from her in your shared office space, nursing a coffee that had gone lukewarm when she dropped the bombshell.

“We have a potential solution,” she began, choosing her words carefully. Her tone had that familiar mix of optimism and hesitation that always made you wary.

“For what?” you asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

She exhaled, leaning forward with a steely determination. “For the mess after the breakup.”

Ah, the breakup. The one that had been plastered across every gossip column and dissected mercilessly online. Your ex, who thrived on curated chaos, had turned what should’ve been a quiet separation into a public spectacle. Cryptic tweets, veiled Instagram posts, and leaked “insider” information painted you as the villain in a narrative you didn’t even recognise. Brands had started to question your reliability. Followers who once adored you now flooded your comment sections with doubt.

“I told you I’m working on that,” you replied, frustration bubbling to the surface.

“I know you are,” she said, her tone softening just enough to keep you from snapping. “But we need something big, something that shifts the focus completely. Damage control isn’t enough anymore we need reinvention.”

That’s when she said his name. Max Verstappen.

Your coffee cup froze halfway to your lips. “Max… as in…Max?”

“The World Champion himself” she corrected, as if his accolades needed more emphasis. “Look, hear me out before you say anything.”

You leaned back, your stomach sinking as she explained. Max’s team had approached them with an unconventional pitch: a mutually beneficial PR relationship. Max, despite his unprecedented success on the track, had been facing increasing scrutiny in the public eye. His no-nonsense personality and occasional sharp tongue in interviews didn’t exactly scream “approachable,” and attempts to soften his image had largely failed.

“You’re serious,” you said flatly, interrupting her.

“Yes.”

“And they think pairing him with me—” you began, gesturing vaguely, your skepticism evident.

“—Will humanise him while giving you the boost you need to rebuild trust with your audience,” your manager finished smoothly, her tone shifting into the polished confidence she reserved for high-stakes pitches. She leaned forward, her elbows resting on the desk. “This isn’t just about optics. It’s about narrative control.”

You crossed your arms, still not convinced. “How exactly is fake dating someone like Max supposed to build trust? My audience isn’t stupid. If anything, they’ll see right through it.”

She gave you a pointed look, the kind that told you she’d already anticipated every objection you could throw her way. “It’s not about fooling anyone. It’s about resetting your image. Right now, people associate you with drama, thanks to that messy breakup. Pairing you with someone as high-profile as Max reframes the conversation. Suddenly, it’s not about your past it’s about this new, unexpected connection.”

You frowned, skepticism still etched on your face. “And Max? What does he get out of this?”

“Max needs to show a different side of himself too,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “He’s known for being intense and unapproachable. This gives him a chance to look more... balanced. Like someone who can laugh, have fun, and be in a stable relationship. You two are opposites, and that contrast is exactly what makes this work.”

The logic was undeniable, even if you hated it. “So, basically, we’re giving the world a feel-good story,” you said flatly.

“Plus you’ve already got chemistry with him.” She added with a small smirk.

“Chemistry?” You nearly choked on the word. “We can barely stand each other.”

She smirked knowingly. “Exactly. People love that. It’s enemies-to-lovers gold, and you two are halfway there already. Look you two balance each other out. Your brand is warm, open, relatable. Together, it’s an opposites-attract dynamic that will have people hooked.”

You stared at her, trying to wrap your head around it. The logistics, the audacity, the sheer ridiculousness of it all. You didn’t even like Max Verstappen. You barely knew him, and what you did know didn’t inspire confidence.

You snorted. “You’re really banking on people eating this up aren’t you?”

She gave you a pointed look. “You’d be surprised how much people love a good story.”

“Why me, though? Why not some actress or model?”

“They don’t want someone who’s unattainable. They want real. Genuine. Someone who can connect with his fans and expand his reach. And frankly, after everything you’ve been through, this could be the fresh start you need.”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair and rubbing your temples. “Okay, fine. Let’s say I agree to this insanity. What makes you think Max Verstappen of all people is going to go along with this?

Your manager didn’t even blink, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Oh, he’s already agreed.”

You froze mid-sigh, your hand dropping from your face. “What?”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “He didn’t really hesitate. Apparently, the PR benefits appealed to him.”

“Or he just wanted to see how long it would take before I strangled him,” you muttered under your breath.

You tapped your fingers on the armrest of the chair, the gears turning in your head. “And what happens when this ends? When people realise it was all staged?”

“That’s the beauty of it,” she replied, her voice smooth. “By the time it ends, the focus won’t be on whether it was real or not, It’ll be on how far you’ve both come. This is about resetting your story, not writing it forever.”

Her words lingered, cutting through your resistance. A fresh start. God, you needed one. The idea of pulling yourself out of the shadow of your ex’s antics, of regaining control over your narrative, was tantalising. But still, this? Fake dating a Formula 1 driver?

“I haven’t even agreed, and you’re talking like it’s a done deal,” you said, crossing your arms.

“Because I know you’ll say yes.”

Two days later, after sleepless nights and a long list of pros and cons, you found yourself sitting in a conference room across from Max himself.

He didn’t look thrilled to be there. His sharp blue eyes scanned the room with a mix of boredom and annoyance, his posture relaxed but his expression guarded. He was dressed simply, in a Alphatauri hoodie and jeans, looking every bit the world-class athlete who didn’t have time for PR stunts.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked his team, his Dutch accent making his irritation clear.

“Positive,” one of his PR reps said, their tone overly bright. “We’ve done the research, and we truly believe this will be mutually beneficial for both of you.”

Max’s gaze flicked to you briefly, and you could feel the weight of his judgment. You were used to being analysed, but his scrutiny was sharper than most.

“Trust me, I’m not thrilled either,” you shot back before anyone else could respond.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your attitude. “Great. This should be fun.”

“Look,” one of the PR reps cut in, attempting to mediate, “we know this isn’t ideal, but it’s a short-term arrangement with clear benefits. Public outings, a few coordinated posts, a handful of high-profile events. It’s all very manageable.”

Max leaned back in his chair, his jaw tight. “And what happens when people figure out it’s fake?”

“They won’t,” his manager said confidently. “As long as you both play your parts.”

Play your parts. The phrase hung heavy in the air, a reminder of what this truly was: a performance. Nothing more.

“Fine,” Max said eventually, his voice low and resigned. “But I don’t want this to interfere with my real life more than it already has too.”

“Don’t worry,” you replied, unable to help yourself. “I’m not looking to be a distraction.”

“Good,” he said, his tone clipped.

When you got up to leave the meeting, another Red Bull PR rep caught you in the hallway, his grin far too smug. “Play nice, you two. Or don’t. Either way, it’ll sell.”

You scowled. Max, walking beside you, muttered, “This is going to be a disaster.”

“You’re telling me,” you replied, glancing up at him.

And just like that, the deal was sealed.

The first few weeks were awkward, to say the least. Staged outings dominated your schedules, each meticulously planned by PR teams with an eye for maximum exposure. Charity events, red carpets, a contrived café date for the paparazzi - every encounter felt like a work assignment, not a date.

You’d arrive arm-in-arm, your smiles dazzling and cameras clicking. Max was always impeccably dressed, his hand resting lightly on your waist as if it were second nature.

Between flashes of paparazzi cameras and murmurs of admiration from onlookers, Max leaned in close, his voice low and teasing.

“Did you rehearse that laugh? It’s almost impressive.”

You let out a huff, leaning closer under the guise of whispering something romantic. “You know what’s impressive? That anyone believes you’re charming.”

A low chuckle escaped him quiet enough that only you could hear. “Touché,” he murmured, his face a picture of calm indifference for the cameras, and you found yourself fighting the tiniest urge to laugh.

During a joint Instagram post session complete with coordinated outfits and a faux-candid shot of you laughing at something he’d “said”—he quipped, “If you’re going to post this make sure you get my good side.”

“You have one?” you shot back, narrowing your eyes.

“Rude,” he replied, smirking just enough to make your stomach flip in a way you didn’t want to acknowledge.

The banter became a fixture of your so-called relationship. No matter the setting, you both always had something to say.

“Try smiling for once,” you remarked at a gala, your arm threaded through his as you waved to photographers. “It won’t kill you.”

He turned to you, his lips curling into the faintest grin. “See? This is why they hired you. Full of such brilliant ideas.”

The exchanges grated on your nerves. But then there were the moments when the act became easier. Like when he���d guide you through a crowd with a steady hand on the small of your back or offer his jacket without a word when the night turned chilly.

“This is ridiculous,” you groaned one evening after yet another photoshoot featuring a carefully curated “date.” You tossed your heels into the corner of the adjoining suite, rubbing your aching feet.

Max, lounging on the couch, looked up from his phone. “You’re telling me. Do you know how much I hate wearing these suits, I look ridiculous” He gestured to the tailored blazer he hadn’t bothered to take off yet.

“Oh shush, you know you look good,” you muttered.

His lips twitched in amusement. “Careful. That almost sounded like a compliment.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you said, flopping onto the opposite end of the couch.

For weeks, this was your routine. The world saw a whirlwind romance, but behind the scenes you were still figuring each other out.

The only time your guard softened was during race weekends. Watching Max in his element was mesmerising. The precision, the focus, the sheer intensity of his drive—it was unlike anything you’d ever seen. His brusque nature made sense in those moments; he wasn’t cold, just singularly devoted to his craft.

“You’re staring,” he said one afternoon, catching you watching him during a debrief.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you replied quickly, though your cheeks burned.

“I’m not,” he said with a shrug, turning back to his engineer. “I’m just used to it by now.”

Despite yourself, you laughed.

The energy between you shifted slowly, almost imperceptibly. Max would catch your eye across a crowded room and smirk, as if sharing an inside joke. And when you fired back with a cutting remark, his grin would linger for far too long.

The turning point came when you were invited to attend a high-profile wedding together. It was one of those events—an invitation extended to only the most influential figures, with a guest list packed with celebrities, businessmen, and the media's who’s who. For you and Max, it wasn’t just an event; it was the test. A high-stakes moment in your staged relationship, where every little detail needed to be perfect.

The location was a sprawling Tuscan villa, perched on a hill with views of vineyards and cypress trees that seemed to go on forever. The air felt thick with romance, but it was the kind that pressed down on your chest, suffocating with expectation.

It all seemed glamorous at first—until the moment you checked in. The concierge, with her polite smile, handed Max a single keycard.

"Your suite is ready," she said, not even glancing at the reservation sheet. "Enjoy your stay."

You froze mid-reach for your suitcase, your eyes locking on the single keycard in Max’s hand. A knot formed in your stomach. “Excuse me,” you started slowly, a smile pulling tight on your lips. “We reserved two rooms.”

The receptionist’s smile didn’t falter as she glanced at the reservation. “I’m afraid you must be mistaken. We have a fully booked weekend, and we only received a request for one suite.”

Max frowned, his frustration starting to bubble. “We booked two rooms,” he repeated, voice low. “Check again.”

But the receptionist only shook her head, her expression unwavering. “I’m sorry, sir. There’s nothing I can do. If another room becomes available, we’ll notify you immediately, but until then this is all we have.”

Max shot you an incredulous look. “Did you know about this?”

You exhaled sharply, grabbing the keycard from his hand. “Of course not,” you muttered. “Let’s just get to the room and deal with it there.”

The hotel room, when you finally entered, was undeniably luxurious—a grand space with marble floors, plush furnishings, and a balcony with sweeping views of the vineyard. But none of that mattered when you saw the bed.

One king-sized bed sat in the centre of the room, its pristine white linens almost taunting you.

“No way,” Max said flatly, his gaze locked on the bed as though willing it to disappear. “This isn’t happening.”

“Like I’m thrilled about it either,” you shot back, dropping your bag onto the bench at the foot of the bed. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

Max rolled his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll just complain about it all night, and I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Well, I’m not sharing the bed,” you snapped, arms crossed tightly over your chest.

And then came the phone call.

Both of your managers had been on the line, in sync as usual, their voices cutting through the tension like a knife. “You two need to make this work, the whole point of this trip is to sell the relationship. People are going to notice if you're seen going into separate rooms. It’ll look suspicious.”

Max’s jaw tightened as he glanced at you, the silent fury in his eyes mirroring yours. “This is getting ridiculous,” he bit out.

“There’s no choice,” they replied their tone unwavering. “We’ve made arrangements. You’re both staying in that suite, and you’re going to make it work. Don’t disappoint us.”

The line went dead.

You stood there, staring at Max, who was now pacing the length of the room. “This is insane,” he muttered, his voice tight with frustration. “They can’t just—”

“They can,” you interjected, “and they just did.”

“Fine,” he said, throwing his hands up. “Let’s make the best of it then.”

After another few minutes of heated back and forth, you came to an agreement—if you had to share the bed, then there would at least be a line of pillows down the middle, creating a barrier between you. It felt childish, but neither of you were willing to back down.

That night, as the hours dragged on, the tension between you both was palpable. You lay on your side of the bed stiff as a board, staring at the ceiling while Max, for the hundredth time, scrolled through his phone. The silence was deafening, with only the distant sounds of laughter and music from the reception area reaching your ears.

“You could at least pretend to care about this,” you muttered into the silence.

Max didn’t even look up from his phone. “About what?”

“This,” you shot back, turning toward him slightly. “Us. The stupid story we’re selling.”

He set his phone down with a sigh, finally turning his head toward you. “Why does it matter so much to you?”

“Because it’s my job Max,” you said. “My reputation is on the line.”

Max’s lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at you. “And you think mine isn’t?” he asked, his voice rising slightly. “You think I enjoy pretending to be in love with someone who looks like they’d rather be anywhere else…who looks like they hate me?”

His words hit harder than you expected, leaving a sting in their wake.

“I don’t hate you,” you said, your voice quieter now.

Max’s eyes softened. “Yeah, well…I don’t hate you either.”

The room was silent again, but it was different now. The distance between you, both literal and figurative, seemed to lessen just slightly. You tried to force yourself to fall asleep, but the tension that lingered was almost too much to bear.

The night dragged on, and in the midst of it you felt the shift, the moment when everything blurred.

Somehow, in the quiet hours of the night, you found yourself moving closer, instinctively curling up for warmth or comfort, you couldn’t tell which. And before you could stop it, your bodies had aligned. Max’s arm had found its way around your waist, and your face was pressed against his chest.

You woke up the next morning tangled in the sheets, Max’s arm still around you, your bodies a tangle of limbs. The pillows had been kicked aside sometime during the night, leaving the line between you completely obliterated. You couldn’t even remember when it had happened only that you’d woken up wrapped in him, as though it had always been that way.

The reality of it hit you both at the same time, and neither of you moved immediately. His breath was warm against the back of your neck as he shifted.

“Morning,” he mumbled, voice rough from sleep.

“Guess we’re really selling the story now, huh?” you said.

Max smiled, a real one this time. “Yeah,” he replied quietly. “Guess we are.”

And in that moment, the lines between what was real and what wasn’t felt even less clear than before.

The wedding weekend was a whirlwind—a carefully curated mix of elegant affairs, lavish dinners, and champagne toasts in the sun. But amidst the clinking of glasses and the sweeping romance in the air, something inside you shifted. It was subtle at first, but by the end of the weekend, you couldn’t deny that things were different.

The welcome dinner was filled with polite smiles and laughter. You both posed for photos together, Max’s arm draped around your waist in the way that had become second nature by now. He leaned down slightly to speak to you during one of the speeches, his breath warm against your ear as he muttered, “This is getting old huh?”

You smirked, glancing up at him, but before you spoke you found yourself lingering in the moment, the proximity between you suddenly feeling a little more… comfortable.

That night, as you both retired to your suite, the pull between you lingered. There was no escaping it now, the facade you had been building for months was being tested in real-time. Neither of you said much as you prepared for bed, the weight of the situation settling over you like a heavy blanket.

The next morning, after another night spent wrapped up together in the same bed, you both sat down to a quiet breakfast in the villa’s courtyard. The wedding hadn’t yet begun, but the grounds were already bustling with preparations. Max sat across from you, the sound of clinking silverware filling the spaces between your words. You were sipping your coffee, but you couldn’t help but notice how his eyes flickered over to you.

He finally broke the silence, his voice easy. “You know, you’ve been full of surprises this weekend.”

Your heart skipped, but you didn’t let it show. You crossed your arms, trying to hide the warmth flooding your chest. “Oh? So, you admit you were wrong about me?”

His lips curved into a slow, teasing grin. “Maybe I was,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “But you’re still impossible to figure out.”

You swallowed, your pulse quickening. “Or maybe you’re just not trying hard enough.”

Later, as the wedding ceremony started, you both took your seats near the back. Max leaned in during one particularly touching speech about eternal love. "Do you really believe that this whole thing might be real for some people?" he asked.

You blinked, turning your gaze to him. "I don't know," you said slowly. "Maybe it is. Maybe they just know something we don't,” you laughed lightly.

He didn’t respond right away, but you could see the way his expression shifted. There was a vulnerability in his eyes now. "Maybe," he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear.

As the evening progressed, you found yourself spending more time together. You were seated next to him at dinner, and instead of the usual small talk, there was an ease between you that hadn’t been there before. The jokes that used to feel forced now felt more natural, even the sarcastic quips between you that used to ignite sparks of irritation now carried a different kind of energy. You started to laugh more easily, and Max’s rare smiles seemed less manufactured.

The night of the wedding was in full swing, the dance floor was crowded, you had been standing at the edge of the crowd, holding a glass of champagne and talking to a few other guests when you noticed Max. Without thinking, you found yourself walking toward the dance floor. You were halfway there when Max appeared beside you, his presence immediate, almost magnetic.

“Fancy a dance?” he asked, his voice low.

You raised an eyebrow, catching the slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Sure, for the cameras, right?”

Max’s smile didn’t falter. “Whatever you say schatje.”

Max placed one hand on your waist, his other hand holding yours delicately. You couldn’t remember the last time you had danced with someone this close.

His breath was warm against your ear as he leaned in slightly. “You know, you’re not bad at this whole ‘fake dating thing”.

“Maybe you’re just getting used to me,” you said, lifting your chin a little.

Max’s hand tightened around yours ever so slightly, and for a moment, you thought he was about to say something else, but he didn’t.

The music seemed too slow, the moment stretching out, and you found yourself closer to him than you’d ever been, the space between you practically nonexistent your bodies pressed together your head resting on his chest. Max’s thumb brushed over your hand, sending a small shiver up your spine. You could feel his chest rise and fall with each breath, the warmth of his body making your own heart race.

“Are you sure this is just for the cameras?” Max murmured, his voice barely a whisper, the question hanging in the air between you.

You swallowed, your breath caught in your throat. You wanted to say something—anything—but the words stuck in your mouth. Instead, you simply nodded, though you knew it wasn’t true anymore. The way he held you, the way his gaze never left yours, was real. All the lines you’d drawn between fake and genuine were starting to melt away, and it terrified you.

The song ended, and the spell was broken, but neither of you moved away immediately. You were still pressed up against each other, a heartbeat away from something more. Max pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours as if waiting for you to say something, anything.

But instead of words, you gave him a soft, almost imperceptible smile. “Well, that wasn’t terrible,” you said, trying to deflect the swirling emotions that had settled deep within you.

The night wore on, and as you walked back to your room, the glow of the villa’s lights cast long shadows, and you could hear the soft murmur of other guests laughing and talking in the distance.

When you entered the room, the silence between you felt different. You both stopped at the foot of the bed, the stillness hanging in the air.

Max hesitated for a moment before speaking again, quieter this time. “You know... I don’t think I mind this, us... being like this.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you met his gaze. “Yeah,” you said softly. “I don’t mind it either,” you finally admitted.

The weekend had changed something fundamental between you. By the time you left for Monaco, the lines between what was fake and what was real had blurred beyond recognition. What had started as a contract had slowly, imperceptibly, become something more. And neither of you was ready to admit it—not yet.

As time went by Max started showing up at your place unannounced, claiming he needed an escape from his hectic schedule. At first, it was just an excuse. He’d show up, settle onto your couch, and spend hours scrolling through his phone, not really talking much, but not leaving either. But over time, it became a routine that neither of you could shake off. He’d arrive late in the evenings, wearing that same devil-may-care attitude he always had, his visits felt more natural every time, less like something forced and more like an excuse to simply be with you.

It started innocently enough, he’d show up, flopping down on your couch, kicking off his shoes, and throwing a lazy “what’s shall we have for dinner?” in your direction. You’d find yourselves cooking together, Max teasing you for your lack of cooking skills, and you firing back with sarcastic remarks that now always seemed to make him laugh.

“Don’t worry, Max,” you’d say, stirring whatever you were attempting to make. “I’ll make sure this one doesn’t burn. Unlike your last attempt at.”

Max would chuckle, shaking his head. “You make it sound like it was a disaster. It was edible…”

“Sure it was,” you’d retort, flicking a bit of sauce at him.

What had once been confined to discussions about the weather or small talk about the PR deal shifted into much deeper, more intimate exchanges. You’d find yourself talking about everything from the silliest of topics like your least favourite childhood snacks, to sharing your thoughts on the future. It was strange, how these quiet moments, spent lounging on the couch or taking walks around the city became some of the most genuine conversations you’d ever had.

Watching movies together late into the night became a staple of your routine. You’d snuggle up on the couch, popcorn between you, arguing over the best movie. You’d watch one of his choices, only for him to grumble about how you’d fallen asleep halfway through, your head resting against his shoulder. You never intended to sleep, but his warmth, his presence, had a way of pulling you under.

One evening, you’d found yourselves cuddling on the couch, his arm draped over you as you played a ridiculous trivia game on your phone, his hand brushing through your hair absentmindedly as he caught his breath.

“Okay, I think you’re cheating,” Max teased, shaking his head as you got the answer right for the third time in a row. “There’s no way you knew that.”

“I’m just that good,” you grinned, leaning in closer, pretending to be smug.

Max rolled his eyes, his fingers lightly grazing your arm as you leaned into his side. It wasn’t intentional at first, but neither of you seemed to care. The tension that had once existed—whether because of the contract, the PR, or just the fact that you had no idea how to truly deal with each other—had slowly dissipated. You no longer needed to try to make each other laugh or even pretend to be interested in what the other person was doing. You genuinely enjoyed it.

And then, there was the first time you realised how much you’d changed. You woke up one morning at his apartment, still tangled in blankets on the sofa with Max, your head resting on his chest, and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this content. His hand was resting lightly on your back, his fingers tracing absent patterns on your skin, and you knew, without a doubt, that what you had with him wasn’t just some act anymore.

When he stirred, blinking his eyes open and catching sight of you, a smile tugged at his lips. “You’re still here,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

You smirked. “You mean you didn’t kick me out yet?”

Max chuckled, his fingers gently tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “Not a chance,” he said, leaning down to kiss you softly. It wasn’t one of those quick kisses that had always been a part of your facade. This one lingered, slow and warm, like he wanted to savour it.

That was when you realised it: You’d both slipped into something real. The PR contract was technically due to end soon, but neither of you had needed to bring it up, because you had long stopped pretending. There were no more walls between you. No more games. Just you, and him, and the quiet certainty that this was no longer about anyone but the two of you.

One evening your buzzer rang unexpectedly. You weren't expecting anyone, so you frowned as you walked over to the peephole. You blinked when you saw Max standing outside, holding a small bouquet of your favourite flowers, the kind you’d mentioned in passing months ago. His hair was slightly messy from the wind, and his expression was somewhere between nervous and sheepish. You could practically see the hesitation in his stance, as if unsure whether to knock.

Curious and slightly caught off guard, you opened the door. He stood there for a beat, offering the flowers with that tentative half-smile of his. The sight of it made your chest tighten, and you couldn’t help the grin that tugged at the corners of your mouth.

“For the record,” Max started, his voice light. “I’m not doing this for PR anymore.”

You blinked, the words taking a moment to sink in. You had both danced around the truth for so long, but now, standing on the other side of your door, it was clear that what was between you two had always been real.

You stared at him for a beat. “In case you haven’t noticed,” you said with a playful smirk, “I’m not doing this for PR anymore either.”

Max’s grin widened just slightly at your response, and a soft chuckle escaped him. “Good to know,” he replied. “Because I don’t think I’m ready to stop this just yet.”

With that you stepped aside, motioning for him to come in. Max placed the bouquet on the nearest table, but before either of you could say anything more, he wrapped his arms around you. The kiss he pressed to your lips was hungry and deliberate, different from the ones you had shared before.

You felt the shift inside you too, a deep sense of rightness that settled in your chest. This wasn’t for the cameras or for the PR agents anymore. This was you and him, standing in your apartment, sharing a kiss.

Max pulled back just a fraction, his forehead resting lightly against yours, his breath warm against your skin. His lips brushed yours again, then he stepped back just enough to look into your eyes.

“I have an idea,” he said.

You tilted your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “Oh? And what’s that?”

He hesitated for a beat, then grinned—crooked and genuine. “How about a real date? No cameras, no PR team, just you and me.”

You pretended to consider it, biting your lip as if deep in thought, laughing softly you nodded. “Okay Verstappen. A real date.”

Max’s smile widened as he pulled you in for another kiss, one that felt like both a promise and a declaration…and it was real.

[000-pawz]

solace (m.jh) ˚ · .

myung jaehyun x fem!reader, smut (mdni!!!), very soft, did i mention this is soft, slight angst, jaehyun is exhausted :(, (emotional) hurt/comfort (?)

warnings: sub!jaehyun, softdom!reader, slight dumbification, "puppy", handjobs, nipple play, drool, finger sucking (?)

wc: 2.6k+

a/n: i wrote this on autopilot... i love u puppy jaehyun <3 (i tried to edit it but im sleepy so i may have missed some things ^___^)

he doesn’t usually come to you like this. you knew something was wrong from the moment he asked if he could stay at your place after his schedules instead of coming over in the morning like you had discussed. and when he climbs into your bed that night, he doesn’t say a word; instead, he simply cuddles up to your side and rests his forehead on your shoulder with a sigh so heavy, his entire body melts into the sheets afterwards.

you know jaehyun’s been tired lately. you notice everything. his smile seems weaker, his eyelids are drooped, and he spends most of his time spacing out with his gaze focused on nothing and everything all at once.

you notice it all, except, you aren’t sure what you can do for him. when he got home early tonight, he barely looked you in the eyes before falling into your arms with tears brimming at his waterline, his hands shaky as he gripped the back of your sweater; as if you would crumble away and disappear if he ever let go.

“‘m so tired,” he whispered into your ear before he buried his face in your neck, his tears leaving a damp trail against your skin. you held him back even tighter, pressing a soft kiss to his own neck in return. you knew that he didn’t want you to respond. not yet, at least, so you gently shushed him instead, swaying your bodies back and forth in an effort to soothe him.

you had persuaded him to take a shower while you made him something to eat, his face pale from the lack of meals he’s been having recently. and when he emerged from the condensated bathroom, his eyes were dull and empty, any trace of their usual flicker gone. you asked him about his day and he gave you a limp smile and airy puff of laughter, shrugging as he pushed the food around on his plate.

“it was okay. i got a lot done today.” his eyes flickered up to yours, unreadable and cloudy, and you gave him a gentle smile of your own, placing your hand on top of his.

“i’m proud of you. you always work so hard. you’re amazing.” the words tumbled out of your mouth and you hoped they would stick. lately, you feel as if the praise goes straight through him, swallowed up by the abyss of his own thoughts. 

you want to pick at his brain and see what he’s thinking—what you can do to make it better—but he always brushes it off with a little “i’ll be fine. i just need to rest, that’s all.”

but when he presses his body further against yours under the sheets, his hand trailing to grasp the end of your shirt in his fist, you know it’s more than that. it's been more than that for a while.

“jaehyun,” you whisper into the dim room, only illuminated by the glow of the moon and your tiny nightlight plugged in on the opposite wall. 

he hums in response, his head tilting slightly to gaze at the side of your face. you turn your own head to face him, reaching up to brush the strands of hair out of his vision. in the dim light, he looks even more tired; and now that it’s just the two of you alone, he doesn't hide anything. his eyes are glossy, his bottom lip trembles, and the heights of his cheeks are flushed red. you want nothing more than to take all of his pain away.

“how can i help you, baby?” you ask quietly, your hand moving down to rest on his warm cheek. his eyes flutter shut at your touch, his fingers gripping tighter at the fabric of your shirt. “what can i do to make it better?”

jaehyun is quiet for a while, but you know he isn’t asleep. his breathing is too heavy and his body is too tense, so at his silence, you trail your fingers up into his hair to massage his scalp, subtly tipping his head back a bit. he lets you maneuver, his body sinking into your touch. 

“i… i don’t know,” he mumbles before his eyes open again, meeting yours in the limited light. they’re pleading, shiny, desperate. your stomach churns. “i’m so tired, but i can’t stop thinking. i don’t want to think anymore.”

you hum in acknowledgment, moving closer until your mouth is right above his. he watches your every move with a bated breath, his adams apple bobbing when you move your hand to his chin, your thumb brushing across his lower lip slowly.

“then let me do the thinking for you. would you like that?”

jaehyun makes a small sound at your words, something quiet and airy, his lips parting as your thumb continues to trail across his lips. he doesn’t respond other than his tongue peaking out to invite your finger inside, his eyes slipping shut again as his lips close around your finger. his mouth is warm and wet, the sight of his glossy lips around your digit making your skin heat up. 

he’s so pretty like this, docile and receiving, his tongue swirling around your thumb as you delicately push it further into his mouth. his hand shakes from where it’s holding onto your shirt, his grip loosening to sneak his fingers under the fabric instead. they splay out against the skin of your hip, grounding and present.

when you pull your finger out of his mouth, he whines softly, his eyes opening ever so slightly to watch what you’re doing. you give him a small smile before pushing at chest so he can roll onto his back. his shirt rides up a little at the motion, exposing his soft belly and faint happy trail, yet his eyes remain completely fixated on you.

“i asked you a question, puppy…” you start slowly as you straddle his waist. “do you need me to think for you? is puppy done using his brain?”

something warm fills your chest when jaehyun’s hips involuntarily jolt at your words, bouncing you a little in his lap. he looks completely ruined already and you haven’t even touched him yet. his chest rises and falls quickly, his bottom lip coated in a layer of drool. he looks so enticing, you can’t resist the urge to lean down and capture his lips in a kiss before he can even speak.

he moans into your mouth when your tongue swipes across his and his hands shoot up to grip at your thighs that cage him against the bed. it’s pathetic, the way he pants as you drag your teeth across his lip, your hands resting over his chest to steady yourself. and when you break away, he chases after you like he’s been deprived of your taste for centuries.

“answer me,” you mumble, and that’s when jaehyun finally nods through his foggy mind, his hair bouncing with the movement.

“yeah. yes, please, don’t wanna think, please,” he whimpers, his nails digging into your skin. he's incredibly hard beneath you, twitching through his thin pants. with mercy, you place one final kiss to his lips before sitting back up. 

your fingers hook underneath the hem of his shirt, slowly dragging it up until his hard nipples are exposed to the cold bedroom air. you bring a hand down to circle one with your pointer finger and jaehyun’s entire body twitches at the stimulation, his cock fighting against the restraint of his underwear in interest. that’s when you press down even harder before flicking the bud, watching the way blood rushes to his chest the more you play with him. 

you do the same to his other nipple simultaneously and it doesn’t take long for jaehyun to be reduced to a squirming, whining mess, his head tipped back against the pillows. you lean down to lick at one of his nipples before blowing cold air on it, a soft ‘ah’ escaping his lips at the action. 

he’s trembling already, your fingernails lightly dragging down the expanse of his abdomen until you reach the waistband of his pants. he’s watching you again, his eyelids hooded and heavy, his lips parted as he breathes heavily, bombarded with anticipation. a piece of art.

you pull his waistband and underwear down in one swift move, his leaking cock slapping against his skin with the motion. he’s so wet and so thick, his tip leaving a dripping trail of precum against his lower stomach, shiny and throbbing. it's cute how his cock squirms as soon as it touches air, his flushed tip spurting weak droplets when you gently trail your finger down the vein on the underside of his dick. 

“oh baby, your cock is so big. sucks that you don’t know how to use it, hm?” you speak sweetly, picking up his cock with your thumb and pointer finger before letting it drop back down. jaehyun’s hips buck at the impact, whining quietly as he grips your thighs even harder. 

“dunno how…” he mumbles, tears brimming his glossy eyes. he tries to buck his hips up again, but you seat yourself further on him, holding him down. you glide your fingers through his precum before spreading it over his head curiously. his breath hitches at the feeling, his cock jumping ever so slightly, but it’s too heavy to off of his stomach all the way, twitching pathetically. 

“that’s okay. i’ll help you cum, okay?” your voice is soft as you lean in to his ear, kissing right below it before trailing your lips to his cheek, placing a tiny kiss there too. “doing so well for me, puppy. you’re always so good for me, aren’t you?”

“good… ‘m good…” he repeats mindlessly, his voice sounding far off and light. you smile a little, tapping his cheek right over the kiss you just left against his skin.

“open up.”

he parts his lips automatically and you bring two of your wet fingers up to his mouth so he can taste himself. his eyes slip shut when you press down on his tongue, his moans quiet and muffled. one of his hands leaves your thigh to grab onto your wrist, his tongue desperately swirling around your fingers, trying to push them further into his mouth. drool escapes the corners of his mouth when he closes his lips round your digits, his cock twitching in between your bodies. 

“you like your mouth being stuffed, hm?” you mutter as you slip another finger into his mouth, slightly in awe as he meets your eyes with a small nod, practically gagging around your fingers. you're sure you’ve soaked through your panties by now, the sight in front of you gathering butterflies in your stomach. 

you finally bring your other hand down to his neglected cock, wrapping your fingers around the base. they can barely circle all the way around; he’s hot and heavy in your palm, his pre dripping onto your fingers like a faucet. 

he’s already a moaning mess when you squeeze his dick as you stroke him slowly, the vibrations of the sound shooting up your arm. his hair falls into his eyes, but he never breaks eye contact, his gaze spacey and yet full of so much devotion, it goes straight to your core. his chest is red, the flush shooting up his neck and face, the tip of his nose blushed and his eyelashes clumped together with tears. 

you keep your fingers in his mouth as you pump his cock, running your knuckles over his head slowly. he tries to fuck himself up into your fist, but eventually gives up, succumbing to whatever you decide to give him. he’s completely at your mercy, his thumb absentmindedly stroking the inside of your wrist as he continues to hold onto your arm, his other hand leaving fingernail indents on the soft skin of your thigh. 

you can tell he’ll cum fast; he’s usually sensitive on nights like these, pent up from all the stress he accumulates during the day. you can’t help but to coo at the sight of his eyes squeezing shut, trying his best to hold out for you. but tonight is about him. it’s all for him.

“want you to cum for me, puppy. can you do that? can you make a mess for me?”

jaehyun moans loudly at that, his back slightly arching off of the bed when you speed up the pace, wet sounds echoing off the walls, his dick slippery and bright red at the tip. you take your fingers out of his mouth to cup the side of his face, gazing down at him with so much adoration, you think you could burst from it all. he’s gorgeous, taking it all as his body writhes against the sheets, his cock begging for a release.

“close…,” he gasps, placing his hand on top of yours before burying his face in your palm, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to your skin. “can i cum? please, please, i’ll make a mess for you… puppy will…”

you smile down at him, circling your palm against the tip of his cock in a way that makes him literally sob, tears rolling his cheeks at the action. his body racks with shivers as his hips messily thrust up into your hand. you mentally savor the image before giving him mercy, brushing your thumb over his cheek soothingly.

“you can cum, puppy.”

as soon as you utter those words, jaehyun breaks, his entire body tensing up as he reaches his high. he’s mumbling all kinds of words, whining and whimpering as streams of cum paint his stomach and chest, thick and white as it rolls down his body. 

“love you, love you, love you so much,” he rambles, trembling as his cock continues to spurt tiny bits of cum until it goes limp, twitching against his stomach, worn and wrung out. 

when you pull your hand away from his cock, he’s still crying into your palm, gasping and clutching onto your wrist tightly. you gently shush him as you lean in to kiss the tears away from his cheeks. you don’t even care that your clothes and sheets are now covered in cum. he’s completely worked up, his eyes squeezed shut as he quietly sobs. 

“oh, jaehyunnie,” you coo, trying your best to brush his tears away. “i’m right here, baby. it's okay. let it all out.”

you lean down to hug him, wrapping your arms around him, chest to chest. you feel his rapid heartbeat through your shirt, his body still slightly shaking and twitching with aftershocks of his orgasm. 

“i love you. i love you,” he hiccups through his tears, burying his face in your neck as he wraps his arms around your waist. you smile, squeezing him even tighter.

“i love you. i’m so proud of you,” you say, reaching up to pet his hair. 

you hold him until his tears finally simmer down into sniffles, pulling back to cup his face. his eyes are red and watery, his cheeks stained with salty tears, but to you, he's the most gorgeous person you’ve ever laid eyes on.

“i love you,” you repeat—just to make sure it really sticks this time—before pressing a long kiss to his lips. he melts into you at that, a lopsided smile on his face when you break apart. 

“thank you. for everything,” he whispers. you shake your head with a smile of your own, kissing the tip of his nose.

“thank you for coming to me. i’m always here. i’ll always be here.”

you both bask in silence for a bit, taking in the quiet stillness. and then, after a while, jaehyun taps the small of your back, searching for your eyes in the limited lighting of the room.

“can i eat you out now…? please?”

reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! thank u...<3 x

masterlist

[fastandcarlos]

Knight In Shining Armour : ̗̀➛ Carlos Sainz

summary: you’re all for carlos protecting you, but the extent that carlos will go to do so even leaves you feeling slightly fearful of what he’s truly capable of

Your eyes went wide in horror as Carlos turned away from you, holding on tightly to his hand. Drops of blood were already hitting the floor as Carlos shielded himself from you momentarily, refusing to let you see just how much it hurt. You rushed over to him regardless, resting your hand against his back as you tried to hide the frustration that was on your face. 

“What were you thinking?” You scolded, head shaking in disbelief as Carlos smiled weakly back at you. 

He bit down on his bottom lip as he tried his best to mask the pain, “he gave me no choice, what was I supposed to do?” 

“Not hit him,” you shouted, throwing your arms up in the air. You went to speak again but you were interrupted by a member of Ferrari staff bringing across a medical kit to help you sort Carlos out. 

“He’s been flirting with you for weeks, I bet he probably doesn’t even work here,” Carlos tried to explain, “I can only stand back for so long.” 

You took a hold of Carlos’ hand, brushing your fingertips over it gently, “if that’s what he was doing, which I don’t think he was, this isn’t the answer to fixing it.” 

Carlos understood your frustration, but he was desperate to stand up for you and your relationship. His apologetic eyes watched as you wiped over the wound, making sure that it was clean, despite Carlos hissing in pain. 

“I appreciate that you care,” you softly spoke, breaking the slight tension between you both, “but you don’t always have to be my knight in shining armour.” 

Carlos glanced across at you, “I do, I’m your boyfriend.” 

“And look where that’s got you today,” you huffed, pointing back at his hand, “you’ll be lucky if you can still drive this weekend with this.” 

The realisation finally seemed to hit Carlos as he sunk back in his seat. “It would still be worth it, knowing that I was able to protect you.” 

You couldn’t help but feel guilty as Carlos seemed to throw away his career with his words, confidently assuring you that you were the priority. He really would do anything to keep you safe, no matter the cost. 

Carlos could tell you were worrying as you remained silent, “I’m fine, really.” 

You wanted to believe him, but you just couldn’t. As much as you adored Carlos, you were scared by how much he loved you and the extent to which he would go to protect you and keep you safe. 

“I don’t want to be the reason you hurt yourself,” you admitted, closing up the medical kit. Your voice was the softest it had been since Carlos took a swing, making him look back across at you. Your heart was racing as you spoke, unable to block out the fear as to what might have happened if Carlos wasn’t pulled away by members of the Ferrari garage. 

Carlos understood how you were feeling, his reaction had surprised himself too. It was a situation he never found himself in before, he’d never felt threatened, but when he did, instinct kicked in. It was almost as if he just saw red, trying his best to find the quickest thing to do in order to fix the situation. 

Only Carlos hadn’t quite fixed the situation, because now he had you beside him wondering where that side of your boyfriend even came from. 

You knew that Carlos had all good intentions, but knowing that he hit someone, for you especially, left a sour taste in his mouth. He was one of the golden boys of F1, charming, kind, considerate to everyone, but that persona that everyone loved seemed to disappear so quickly when trouble arose. 

After a few moments of silence, Carlos stood himself up from where he sat, soon realising that you had nothing left to say to him, deciding to give you a bit of space to think instead. 

It wasn’t quite the reaction that Carlos was expecting though. 

Whilst he didn’t imagine you throwing yourself into his arms, he had hoped you’d be a bit more understanding. He did it for you, even if it didn’t seem that way, a way that you certainly weren’t appreciative of right now. 

You found yourself back in Carlos’ drivers' room after taking a walk around the paddock, feeling as if everyone’s eyes were on you. You weren’t actively avoiding Carlos, but not bumping into him was a bit of a relief. 

The room was untouched from how you both had left it earlier in the day, random bits of merch were scattered around, the sofa at the back of the room still draped with blankets, one of which you wrapped around your frame. 

With the four walls surrounding you, you finally allowed yourself to take a moment. A tear fell down your cheek, which you quickly wiped away, throwing your head back. 

You lost count of how long you were in the room, waves of fear, pride, nerves washing over you. Your mind was spiralling out of control as you tried to piece together the various pieces of the emotional jigsaw you were fixing. 

The only thing that brought you back was Carlos creeping into the room, smiling weakly as he greeted you. His hand looked a lot better, bandage around it to try and protect the wound, hiding the faint colours of purple that you’d already noticed earlier. 

“Hi,” you whispered as Carlos tentatively took a seat beside you. 

There was still a slight tension as Carlos turned to face you. “I thought you might be in here, do you want me to leave you alone?” 

“No,” you spoke, resting your head in your hands, “this is your room more than it is mine.” 

“I’m sorry,” Carlos spoke as soon as you fell silent. 

“You’re an idiot,” you scolded, but Carlos already knew that. “I don’t even know what you were thinking doing that today.” 

Carlos shrugged back across at you, “it was stupid, but at that moment it felt like the right thing to do in order to protect you.” 

“I don’t always need protecting,” you reminded him, your voice getting louder with every word you spoke. “I especially don’t need protecting if that’s the way that you’re going to do it.” 

Carlos understood your frustrations, he knew you felt let down by his actions, but now he was scared too. “I’m sorry that I let you down, but I was scared too love. I was terrified that this guy was going to start getting involved with you, and then I just wouldn’t have known what to do.” 

Your brows knitted together, “do you really think if anyone else was interested in me that I would pay them any attention when I’ve got you here with me?” 

“I know, and that’s on me,” Carlos whispered, running his hands over his face. “Maybe it’s me, maybe I’m the one that needs to stop watching over their shoulder all the time.” 

You shifted your body so that you were facing Carlos too, making sure that your full attention was on him as he began to open up to you. 

“Everyone thinks that I’ve got it all, the career, the partner, the supportive family, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t worry too,” Carlos confessed, his voice a little shaky. “I still worry most days that something is going to give, that something is going to get taken away from me, and the thing that I’d hate to get taken the most is definitely you.” 

You nodded, taking in every word that Carlos said to you. “I never imagined you’d feel like that, I guess I was one of those people that was under the illusion that you were living the dream too. Do you really worry that someone’s going to come and take me away from you?” 

“Everyday.” 

“Oh, Carlos,” you whispered, feeling your heart break. You moved closer towards him, taking a hold of his unbandaged hand. 

“I know it sounds stupid, but it scares me sometimes how in love I am with you, and I worry that someday all of this is going to be taken away from me. I’ve never been happier than I am with you,” Carlos told you, tightening his grip on your hand. 

You smiled weakly as his tearful eyes looked across at you. “If that’s ever how you feel, you’ve just got to come and tell me, don’t act like this. I didn’t recognise you earlier when you hit him, that’s not the Carlos that I know and love, it was like watching a stranger. 

It was something that Carlos knew he’d have to spend a long time making up to you, knowing that his actions left you frightened earlier was a guilt that he wouldn’t be able to get rid of for a while. He knew he’d let his own insecurities eat away at him for too long, unable to hold it back today and finally letting them tip over the edge and get him into trouble. 

You could see it too, seeing him silently scold himself as he let the voices in his head get the better of him. 

“I love that you love me and want to protect me, but I only ever want you to do that when you’re safe,” you asked of him, “not getting yourself into a situation like this.” 

Carlos nodded at your request, “I don’t ever want to end up like this again, my hand hurts more now than it does after a crash.” 

Your eyes rolled as a snigger came from Carlos. “You’re going to be feeling the effects of that for a while, luckily for you, you’ve got a partner who knows a thing or two about helping you through injuries.” 

Carlos’ head came down to rest against your shoulder, “I think I’m just lucky that I’ve got you, in whatever situation we find ourselves.” 

Your eyes were drawn to the bandage on Carlos’ hand, placing your free hand gently over it. Knowing that was underneath was done for you hurt, knowing Carlos had put himself through that just for you left a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

“Promise me that you’ll talk to me,” you asked him, wanting to hear it one final time from him, “tell me things, that’ll still make you my knight in shining armour.” 

Carlos nodded back at you straight away, “I promise I’ll tell you anything, no matter how stupid it might be.” 

“Nothing is stupid if it keeps you safe,” you reminded him, leaning your head back to press a kiss against the top of his, “that’s all I want for you.” 

“I know, and that’s all that I want for you too.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[fandoms-x-reader]

MC Faints

Requested By: @space-dragon-ace

Headcannons

Summary: The brothers (individually) react to MC who faints. Word Count: 4,146

This time of year had been the most stressful for you.

The brothers were always fighting for your attention, so you rarely had time for yourself. 

You felt like the second you got home from RAD you were being pulled left and right by one brother or another.

And while you appreciated that they wanted to hang out with you, exams were coming up and as an exchange student, there was an immense amount of pressure on you to do good.

And since you were under that pressure, you had to find time to make sure you were studying.

Which unfortunately meant cutting into your sleep schedule.

You were overworked and exhausted and the only thing that was keeping you upright was the anxiety of knowing that the exams were in the next few days.

Lucifer was a very overworked person himself. So, he had a hard time noticing when someone was struggling to keep up with their workload.

It’s not that he couldn’t pick up on the signs of your exhaustion, it’s just between student council business and keeping his brothers out of trouble, he didn’t really have time to look for those signs.

So, when you fainted in the middle of a student council meeting, he was more surprised than anything.

You had been standing there, looking just as you usually did with no noticeable signs of distress.

And then the next second you were on the ground with his brothers surrounding you.

After the initial shock, Lucifer began thinking of reasons as to why you may have fainted and that’s when all of the little signals suddenly became clear to him.

It’s as if they were bright neon signs that stated you were overtired and ready to collapse.

And Lucifer suddenly became very protective of you, telling his brothers to give you space before whisking you away to the House of Lamentation where he could properly take care of you.

Lucifer held your hand the entire time you were asleep, gently touching his other hand to your forehead occasionally to make sure you weren’t running a fever or anything like that.

When you finally woke up, Lucifer gave you a small smile, apologizing to you for not noticing the signs of your suffering earlier.

“It’s not your fault, Lucifer,” you reassured him before adding, “I just need to do a better job of managing my time.”

Lucifer planned on helping with that.

He already planned to have a long talk with his brothers about respecting your time so that you didn’t have to sacrifice your own health just to keep up with your grades.

On top of that, Lucifer invited you to his room after school much more often. 

He claimed that it was to help make sure you were staying relaxed, but in reality, he needed a break just as much as you did.

And you were the only thing that helped him relax. 

Demons didn’t get sick the same way that humans did.

That was one thing you had come to learn during your time in the Devildom.

They didn’t have a flu season and they didn’t get shots to stave off illness.

So when you started feeling sick, you didn’t think to mention it to the brothers.

After all, you were sure it would only end in a very long conversation consisting of you trying to explain your sickness while they bombarded you with a hundred questions.

You did your best to hide how awful you were really feeling, wearing a smile and doing your best to not look shaky or pale.

And it seemed to work because the brothers were as persistent as ever about spending time with you - especially Mammon.

And you loved spending time with Mammon. You thought it was adorable how he always fought for your attention.

But, today, you were hoping that he would get tired of going out and doing things and let you return to the House of Lamentation.

You would be fine even if he wanted to watch a movie with you at home. Then, if you fell asleep, you could just say you were really tired. It’s not like Mammon would be mad at you for very long anyway.

But, of course, when you were feeling very under the weather,+

Mammon decided he had a full day planned for the two of you.

From shopping to watching him do a photo shoot to trying out new restaurants - Mammon just wanted to spend the whole day together.

You did your best to keep up - to act like nothing was wrong.

But at the end of the day your ailment caught up to you and as you were standing next to Mammon at the casino, you felt incredibly lightheaded.

“I think I’m going to go sit down for a moment,” you told Mammon and he gave you a small frown.

“But, I’m about to win the jackpot!” Mammon argued and you once again smiled at him, agreeing to stay.

Moments later, Mammon did win the jackpot. He let out a victorious laugh and turned to celebrate with you only to find you collapsing into his arms.

His celebration was cut short as he was now freaking out trying to get you to wake up and gently brushing your hair out of your face as tears threatened to form in his eyes.

He rushed you back to the House of Lamentation and after Lucifer and Satan looked over you, they determined you had just fainted from being sick.

They gave Mammon some medicine to give to you when you woke up and then left.

Mammon stayed by your side the entire time and he felt a huge weight lift off his shoulders when you finally opened your eyes.

His lips were turned down into a frown as he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“I didn’t want to ruin our day together,” you replied and it only made Mammon more sad as he pulled you into a hug.

“I thought you died,” he admitted, his arms tightening around you, and you could see how affected he was by seeing you faint.

“I’m sorry, but I’m okay. It’s just a cold,” you told him and although he was satisfied with your answer, he wasn’t letting you go from his arms.

He needed to hold you there for a little while longer, just as some extra reassurance that you were okay.

Levi was absolutely determined to finish the new game that he had bought.

It was a two-player game that he specifically purchased because he thought you would enjoy playing it with him.

Which meant that you were being dragged along for the ride whether you wanted to or not.

Levi wanted to finish the game as quickly as possible so that he could be the first person to review it and in order to do so, he had you pull two all-nighters back to back.

You were exhausted and ready to call it quits, but Levi was very convincing when he wanted to be. 

He knew all of the right bribes to offer you to keep you awake and playing.

On top of that, you were genuinely happy to be spending time with Levi.

But as the alarm clock rang after the second all-nighter that happiness you were feeling was overtaken by your exhaustion. 

You let out a groan as you sat down your controller, looking at the clock in Levi’s room as if it betrayed you by signaling it was time to get ready for school.

You and Levi still hadn’t finished the game and you couldn’t help but stare off into space with dread as you realized that meant that you would be in Levi’s room again after school today trying to finish it.

And no amount of caffeine would help you survive a third all-nighter in a row.

You didn’t say anything to Levi as you left his bedroom to get ready for school. In fact, you didn’t say anything to any of the brothers all day.

You weren’t trying to be rude, you were just too tired to care.

It wasn’t until you fainted at lunch that they realized something was genuinely wrong.

They all clamored over to you as you went down in the middle of the room, the other students whispering and asking what happened.

The scene caused quite the commotion which led to Diavolo finding out quickly. 

 As you rested in the infirmary, Diavolo questioned the brothers about what could have caused you to collapse.

Lucifer turned to Levi, claiming that he had been spending the most time with you lately.

Diavolo asked Levi if he noticed you feeling unwell and Levi innocently told him you looked like you were fine during your two all-nighters together.

“Wait - did you say that they hadn’t slept in two straight days?” Diavolo questioned and all of the brothers looked at Levi incredulously. 

Levi’s words suddenly registered in his own mind as he realized that he was the reason you fainted.

He immediately started panicking as his mind tried to come up with ways to make it up to you.

And as if his guilt wasn’t punishment enough, he had to endure a multiple-hour-long lecture from Lucifer about the importance of sleep for humans. 

Levi was afraid to face you the next time you saw him. He was afraid that you would hate him for forcing you to stay awake with him.

You reassured him that you had fun playing the game with him.

“Next time, maybe just let me get a couple hours of sleep in,” you teased and a blush rushed to his cheeks as he nodded his head.

Levi was really happy that you still wanted to play games with him despite what happened and he made a promise to himself to prioritize your health over the game from now on.

Between his brothers and the busy life of being a member of the student council, you and Satan didn’t get a whole lot of free time to spend together.

So, when the opportunity did present itself where Satan was able to steal you away, the two of you liked to take advantage of it.

There was an outdoor festival happening up in the human world and Satan wanted to take you to it.

He knew that it had been a while since you visited and the festival had an overall theme that he knew you would both enjoy.

You were ecstatic when he asked you to go with him and the two of you left almost immediately after.

The festival was absolutely gorgeous and it was full of things that you and Satan could do together.

You shared the cuisines, you bought souvenirs, and you even participated in some of the side activities they offered.

And while you were enjoying your time with Satan, there was one problem - the heat.

The Devildom had no sun to shine brightly or warm the weather so you had grown accustomed to the weather there.

But in the human world, the sun was at large, beating down on you.

You hadn’t prepared for it to be so hot and were starting to feel light-headed.

Satan was usually so attentive and would recognize something was off the second that you started to not feel good.

But, he was so distracted by everything else going on that he didn’t notice.

He was like a kid in the candy shop, holding your hand as he dragged you from stall to stall.

He was talking to a vendor about a necklace they had when you felt like your head was starting to spin.

Satan turned to ask your opinion on the piece of jewelry with full intentions of buying it for you.

But, when he faced you, he saw how flushed your complexion was.

He barely had time to react before you were collapsing.

The necklace was long forgotten as Satan easily caught you in his arms.

He immediately went into doctor mode, doing his best to recall everything he had learned about humans.

His mind was racing with possible reasons as to why you could have fainted. The possibilities seemed endless.

Until he placed his hand on your forehead and noticed that you felt hot to the touch.

And it was like everything had clicked into place as he was suddenly rushing you back to the House of Lamentation.

He laid you in his bed because he figured it would be easier to take care of you there since the other brothers wouldn’t barge in.

When you woke up, it took you a moment to figure out where you were and what happened but a deep blush coated your cheeks as you began to comprehend the situation.

“I’m sorry I ruined our date,” you stated, refusing to look at Satan.

He immediately leaned forward and cupped your cheeks before tilting your head up to look into his eyes.

“You didn’t ruin our date. I still had a great time - did you?” Satan questioned and you nodded your head.

He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before telling you, “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

You leaned into his touch and he pulled you into his arms, attempting to calm his heart rate that had been racing since your first collapsed.

As calm and composed as he remained, Satan had been so scared when you fainted and now he was going to keep you in his arms for however long it took to convince himself that you were okay.

You were heading home after school when Asmo suddenly approached you.

He had such a happy smile on his face when he saw you and you could hear the excitement in his voice.

Asmo had been invited to a special event that night and he asked if you would be his plus one.

You could see the jealous looks you were getting from miscellaneous other people as Asmo stood before you with a hopeful look.

When you agreed to go, Asmo let out a happy noise of excitement before taking your hand and leading you into town.

The two of you needed to start getting ready right away!

He wanted the two of you to have matching outfits so he took you to Majolish to get new ones.

The two of you spent a while there trying on different outfits, attempting to find matching ones that fit both your and Asmo’s styles.

And you had finally found an outfit that had a mix of both. 

There was just one problem - it had a corset. And in true corset fashion, it was quite restricting. 

Asmo was dying over the way you looked in that outfit, giving you compliment after compliment and looking so happy while doing it.

You didn’t tell him about the corset being too tight, instead agreeing to buy it.

The event would only be for a little while, so you figured it would be fine. All you had to do was last until the end of the event.

And you had managed to do just that, albeit with a bit of a struggle.

You felt like the corset was somehow getting tighter and tighter as the night went on and you were starting to feel short of breath and hot. 

Asmo could see that you weren’t feeling one hundred percent, so he suggested that the two of you head back to the House of Lamentation.

Though, he didn’t understand why you weren’t feeling well. Did you have something to drink when he wasn’t looking?

The two of you barely made it to the House of Lamentation when everything went black and you fell to the ground.

Asmo panicked immediately, shouting for Lucifer to come outside and help you as his hands shakily held your head, not knowing what to do.

When Lucifer inspected the scene in front of him, he noticed the corset and demanded Asmo take it off.

Lucifer was so sure that the article of clothing was the cause of your fainting so Asmo quickly rushed you to your bedroom and took the corset off you, staring intensely at your face as he waited for something to happen.

You woke up shortly after and Asmo let out a loud sigh of relief as he pulled you into his arms, blinking past the tears that had formed in his eyes.

He stroked your hair as you took deep breaths, the feeling of your lungs expanding fully was something that felt strangely nice.

“If the outfit was too tight, we could have gotten you something else,” Asmo told you softly.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to look good for your event,” you replied and Asmo pulled away from the hug to cup your cheeks and look you in the eyes.

“You look perfect in everything. You didn’t have to suffer all night - I wanted you to have a good time,” Asmo replied.

“I did have a good time, Asmo,” you reassured him and he pulled you back into his arms.

“Just don’t ever do that again,” he said quietly as he tried to push the image of you fainting out of his mind.

You were running late to breakfast and the brothers had noticed that his had been a recurring thing with you lately.

The day before, you were late for breakfast because you overslept after staying up all night studying.

And then you were also late to dinner later that day after Solomon unexpectedly asked for your help with something.

And today you had sent them all a message letting them know you would be late to breakfast due to a shower mishap.

Asmo attempted to ask you to explain in further detail, but the others didn’t press the subject.

They knew that you would be a little late, but it was only a few minutes until everyone had to leave to make it to RAD on time.

Beel had been staring at your plate of food the entire time, doing his best to restrain himself. 

He knew that after missing both breakfast and dinner yesterday you would be hungry. But, if you weren’t going to eat it, he wasn’t going to let it go to waste.

After waiting a couple more minutes, Lucifer let out a small sigh before allowing Beel to eat your food.

Just then, you came bounding into the dining room with a look of shock on your face as you watched Beel gobble up your food in one bite.

“Hey, that was mine,” you said with a small pout and Beel looked like a deer in headlights as he sat your plate down.

“You were late,” Lucifer retorted before adding, “Time to go.”

You had a small frown the entire way to RAD and Beel felt guilty every time he heard your stomach rumble.

He was determined to make it up to you by getting you extra food at lunch.

But your hunger was starting to really get to you and by the second class you were starting to feel lightheaded.

You tried not to act any differently but you could feel Beel’s eyes on you during the class and it was only adding to the myriad of things you were feeling right now.

You felt overwhelmed by everything and as soon as the bell rang signally class was over, you stood up - only to fall right back down.

Beel managed to get to you just in time to catch you, but he started panicking when he saw that you were unconscious. 

He immediately lifted you off the ground and carried you to the school infirmary. 

The guilt he was feeling now was eating him alive. He knew that you had fainted because you were hungry.

If only he had a little more self-control and didn’t eat your food then maybe you wouldn’t have fainted.

When you woke up, you were immediately met with Beel’s concerned eyes.

“How are you feeling?” Beel asked you and you sat up slightly as you realized what had happened. 

“I’m fine,” you replied, though he suspected that wasn’t one hundred percent true.

You looked around the room and noticed Beel had bought a ton of snacks and drinks and laid them out on the bed next to you.

As soon as he deemed you were okay enough, he handed you snack after snack and apologized profusely for eating your food.

He would make sure you never fainted from hunger again. 

You and Belphie shared such romantic moments sometimes.

Other times, he acted like such a brat.

It seemed like one of Belphie’s favorite things to do was to mess with you. Especially when he was feeling particularly testy.

Lucifer woke him up from his nap? I guess that means you wanted to pick a fight with him too so now he’s relentlessly trying to wrestle and tickle you.

Beel decided to eat his food that morning? Well, then you don’t get to eat either. But, you don’t mind, right?

And you would always retaliate which would end up leading to a war between you.

And both of you refused to back down.

In fact, sometimes it got to the point where the other brothers avoided the two of you, afraid of being collateral damage.

You wanted something to drink in the middle of the night, so you made your way to the kitchen and grabbed your favorite from the fridge.

You poured yourself a cup and sipped it quietly, immediately regretting it as you did so.

The taste was awful and you could hear Belphie’s snickering somewhere nearby.

You swallowed the drink and glared at the entrance to the kitchen as Belphie entered, holding his sides from laughing.

Why was he only awake at the most inconvenient times?

You decided to make Belphie pay for his actions.

“Belphie - did you put something in this?” you asked him, holding a hand to your stomach as if you were about to be sick.

“You should see your face right now,” he replied, continuing to laugh.

You placed one hand on your head and started fanning yourself with your other hand.

“Okay, but you made sure it was safe for humans, right?” you asked him and Belphie paused. You were just pulling his leg, right?

You took a few strained breaths before asking him, “Is it really hot in here?”

Belphie’s expression had turned from one of amusement to one of slight panic as he watched you, trying to figure out if you were lying or not.

He was positive what he put in your drink wouldn’t harm you, but he didn’t exactly look it up to check.

Belphie’s eyes were wide and he felt like he couldn’t breathe as you collapsed to the ground.

He was panicking as flashbacks of what once happened between the two of you overwhelmed his mind.

Did he just kill you? Again?

He felt like he was starting to have a panic attack as Beel suddenly entered the kitchen.

“Belphie?” he questioned, not expecting his twin to be there. He was just trying to get his midnight snack.

“Beel - I think I…,” Belphie stated, frozen in shock.

Beel’s eyes widened as he saw your body on the ground and he immediately rushed over to you, placing his fingers on your neck to check for a pulse just like Satan had taught him.

When you could feel Beel’s shaky hands, you knew the prank might have gone a little too far and you gently grabbed his wrist and opened your eyes.

Beel and Belphie looked at you confused for a moment and then Belphie realized what happened.

He gave you the biggest death glare and you noticed the tears that had started to form in his eyes.

“Belphie-,” you began but he stormed off to sulk in the attic. You followed him, only to find the door shut. 

“Belphie, come on let me in,” you told him. You could see him lying on the bed, turned away from you.

“I opened this door once before, I’ll do it again if I really have to,” you added.

Belphie let out a sigh of frustration before getting up and opening the door.

You immediately pulled him into a hug as he did, wrapping your arms around his torso and his arms timidly wrapped around you as well.

“I’m sorry,” you told him, genuinely feeling bad for taking things so far.

“Don’t ever do that again,” he stated, hugging you tighter before pulling you over to the bed with him.

Your punishment was to spend the night with him so that you were there whenever he needed some extra reassurance that you were okay.

Despite his pranks and brattiness, Belphie really loved you and he couldn’t imagine what he would do without you.

[girlokwhatever]

can we get a Paige x reader where Paige is like coming to terms with being gay or like coming out pleasee 🙌

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡awakening,,

paige bueckers x fem!reader

paige vividly remembers the day she realized you were her gay awakening.

the two of you met in a human development class. you came in late on the first day and sat down right next to her, some of your hair sprawled right onto her computer. you immediately apologized, pulling your hair into a bun and sending her a soft smile. obviously it wasn’t a big deal and she told you that, helping to ease your nerves.

you thought she was pretty, hair also pulled back in a bun and sat comfortably in a sweatsuit. she smiled at you with such reassurance it melted you, maybe she knew how nervous you were.

you and paige quickly became close. you worked on assignments together, went out to lunch after class, and she even introduced you to all her basketball friends. you also introduced her to yours, hiding your blush when your friends sent you suggestive glances. but it wasn’t like that, paige was just your friend. you didn’t even think she was gay. whenever the two of you talked about your past relationships, she only ever talked about guys.

it was your first year at uconn, so you were definitely trying to just navigate your way around your first year. you also really missed your parents. when paige got her injury during a game and couldn’t play anymore, you saw how much it affected her. you remembered telling her all about your family and she said they sound super fun to be around, so you asked her if she wanted to go back home with you.

she said yes.

everyone loved her, to say the least. she felt so welcomed in your home. your mom even made her a ‘get well soon’ cake. your younger siblings clung to her, asking to play basketball and video games.

paige really loved your family.

you carried her bag to your room and told her that you’ll have to share a room since there’s no other space. you even offered to pile up blankets on the floor and sleep on that, but she refused to let you do that. i mean, it wasn’t really a big deal. you’ve shared a bed before.

you both took your respective sides of the bed, but paige’s heart was pounding for some reason and she couldn’t stop thinking about you. your scent was everywhere, permeating her senses and making her mind all fuzzy.

that’s when it happened. that’s when she realized she was so in love with you. so enamored by you that she hadn’t thought about anyone else since she met you. but she quickly pushed those thoughts back down. she knew you didn’t like her. there was this guy back at school that you’d been talking about and things seemed to be going pretty well. so instead of talking you to sleep and leaning into your warmth, paige turned her back to you and faced the cold-front.

after you guys got back to school things felt different.

you were going to one of the team’s games wearing a nika mühl shirt since paige couldn’t really play at the moment. when she saw, she insisted you change to her jersey. you said no because nika was also your friend, but she really kept pushing it.

“this is stupid.” she heard you mutter it under your breath, probably hoping she wouldn’t hear. you ended up not changing, and paige gave you the silent treatment. she started to regret introducing you to her friends, she only wanted to you care about her.

another incident happened when paige met the guy you’d been talking to, jeremy.

he was hanging out at your dorm with you watching a movie. Godzilla or something. it was alright, but you couldn’t really say you were having fun. he was really nice and funny, but he wasn’t really what you were looking for. maybe he’d be more fitting as a friend.

paige, not knowing you were hanging out with him, walked straight into your dorm blabbing about how she bought you snacks for your movie night. the same movie night she said to cancel because she couldn’t make it.

“these were the last two bags they had and i got so freaking excited-“ she’s looking up at you, letting her jaw fall before she quickly catches it. she didn’t know he’d be here with his arm draped around you. she didn’t even know you two were still talking.

paige had been telling herself that she didn’t like you ever since that night at your house. she’s not into you and definitely not gay. but now, in this moment, she feels that mask slipping away and being taken over by hurt and anger. you must’ve been glad she canceled plans so that you could hang out with your boy toy.

“paige.. this is, um. this is jeremy. jere, this is paige.”

jere. she’s mentally rolling her eyes but putting a smile on her face. you’re walking towards her in the kitchen but when she notices him following behind you all she can think about is stepping back and far away from this situation.

“hey, nice to meet you.” he’s holding his hand out for paige to shake, and she does. all while feigning her perfect smile. you see right past her though.

“nice to meet you too jimmy.”

“jeremy.”

“oh, yeah, my bad, jeremy.”

she catches you glaring at her and begins to feel a little bad, but this guy doesn’t deserve your attention and your time. she knows you’re too good for him. she’s really just looking out for you, being your best friend. because that’s what you two are. best friends.

“well jeremy-“

“is it ok if i just, steal her away for awhile? really important stuff i gotta tell her.”

a flood of relief washes over you because he’s nodding and kissing your cheek as he walks out the door. you wipe his kiss away and take a seat on one of the stools against the counter. you can’t believe the audacity on paige, but you’re silently thanking her for getting rid of him.

“what’s going on? what’s so important that you have to tell me right now?”

“oh, that was just an excuse to get him out.”

“what?!”

“well i could tell you didn’t want him here so..” she didn’t actually know if that was true, but she wanted him gone. and now he is. the grin on her face angers you, even though she’s right. how smug shes being about it rubs you the wrong way and you’re almost embarrassed because she’s right—you didn’t want him here.

“aw thanks paigey. i really wanted you to kick out my date.”

paige wants to scream in your face about how much she likes—no, loves you. she refrains though. she knows you don’t feel the same and doesn’t want to lose your friendship. the friendship that has held her together when all she felt like doing was falling apart.

she goes on the defensive because she doesn’t like your tone or the fake smile you’re giving her. she just wants to lay down with you and catch up on life, maybe ask why you didn’t tell her about him. but as soon as she starts talking, she regrets it.

“sorry i was trying to be a good friend. sorry as soon as i said i couldn’t make it you decided to have your fuck buddy over to take my place.”

“are you being serious? you canceled on me! and by the way, he’s not my fuck buddy.”

“then what is he? your boyfriend?”

you don’t really know what to say because she has a point, he’s not your boyfriend. in your heart, he’s nothing to you romantically, but you don’t want to give her a satisfaction of being right.

“i don’t know, maybe! he fucks me like he loves me.”

you’re walking away from her and into your room, searching for your pajamas. you switch your clothes out and you hear her footsteps tracing yours.

she stands there watching you change, feeling her whole body light up. what does that even mean, he fucks you like he loves you?

it’s when her stomach sinks that she knows you’re all she cares about, and she’s not afraid to admit it anymore. she’s never felt this type of jealously before. she’s never been in love like this before either. with a girl. is this what it’s like?

“what does that mean?”

you grow hot under her gaze, wondering why it’s bothering you now that you’re half naked in front of her when it’s never bothered you before. she’s got this solemn expression on her face and it feels like she trying to look into your brain.

“what does it matter to you?”

you realize you didn’t like jeremy because you really just wanted paige. it hurts that you’ll never have her and you’ll just have to find someone else, hoping they can make you feel a fraction of the way she makes you feel. you realize with paige that even if you’re arguing, you’ll always be happy to see her. to feel her presence in any room. she’s always saying the stupidest things and making you smile.

paige fears the same thing. is she going to have to settle for someone else that isn’t you? all because it took her so long to be ok with who she is and how you make her feel. even now, your anger all directed towards her, she admires and loves you. you’re so beautiful and genuine. she remembers when you two went out last month, probably the last time you hung out without arguing, and you had the biggest smile on your face. she realizes now all this is because of her. she argues with you and pushes you away because she’s too drawn to you. if she keeps you close, she can’t stay away.

“because.”

“because? because what, paige?”

“because i really love you.” she pauses, trying to find the wording so she doesn’t fuck this up. you’re staring at her, wide eyes, and you think deep down maybe it’s as more than friends.

“i really love you. more than anyone else i think. more than i’ve ever loved a girl, or a guy. i love you in the type of way where i can’t stay away from you and i have this weird feeling whenever i see you. like butterflies. i love you in the typa way where i want to hold you and kiss you, and spend all of my time with you cause when you’re not around all i do is think about you. even when you’re around, i can’t think about anything else. i.. yeah. i know that i love you.”

“paige..”

“and i hate that you like that guy. jimmy or whatever. i hate him because you like him. i wish i could be him, i wish you felt that way about me and not him. i’ve never liked a girl before, especially not fallen in love with one, but you changed that for me. when you flung your hair all over my damn computer the first time we met, even then i had it out for you, just didn’t know it yet.”

her word vomit concludes and you’re both shocked. she’s shocked she admitted it and you’re shocked she feels that way. about you, of all people. you wish you had recorded it so you can listen to it on repeat forever.

as soon as you open your mouth to speak, she closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the door frame. she didn’t really think about the repercussions too hard and now she has to prepare herself for the rejection.

“paige, i love you too. as more than a friend. i never actually slept with jeremy because i just wanted you. i never said anything about it because i thought you weren’t into girls and-“

she’s got you wrapped around her, clinging to you and she’s kissing you with so much need it might consume her. your lips are soft and moving against hers so perfectly she thinks it might be a dream. she’ll wake up and realize none of it was real. because that’s what you are to her, a dream.

you pull away and look at her, foreheads pressed together. she’s looking at you too, a stupid smile on her face like she’s just won the lottery. in her own special way, she has.

“love you so much, you have no idea.”

she’s pulling you back into a kiss, cupping your face with gentle hands and pulling you impossibly closer. in this moment, you feel heaven’s eternal sun shine on you and paige, melting your souls together and making you feel all warm and bubbly.

“so, i’m gonna do this better later i promise, but will you be my girlfriend?”

“yeah, yes, i will.”

she’s kissing you again and now she’s certain it’s real. she feels you holding her and knows it’s real. she curses herself for not just admitting how she felt sooner, but it ended up with her here in your embrace, so how bad could it really be?

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩୧⋆｡🕯. -ʚɞ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED THIS!!

living for these requests atm

also i hope you guys listened to the song, it’s so gay awakening core

[coco-loco-nut]

Blue Birthday

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: charles accidentally missed your birthday

a/n: thanks for the request 🫶 i hope you like it! my requests will be fully open again soon

masterlist

———————

You met Charles through your Uncle Ayrton’s foundation. You were at an event with your Aunt Viviane before the Brazilian GP and Charles was a volunteer.

Everything was so easy with him, he made every effort to make sure you knew how much he loves and appreciates you. Charles didn’t even force you to move to Monaco, but as soon as you told him you were moving there for the foundation, he cleared space for you.

You never celebrated things for yourself, but Charles made sure that you knew how special you were to him, so maybe that’s why the situation you found yourself in hurt so much.

“Mon amour, I have to go to Maranello for a few days. Ferrari emergency, will you be okay?” Charles asks, and you can’t say no to him. The look he gives you tells you that he genuinely wouldn’t go if you objected.

“I’ll be okay Charles,” you tell him, following him to the bedroom to help him pack up. “Drive safe, môr,” you kiss him before he leaves. Charles didn’t tell you how long he would be gone, so there was a small bit of hope in you that he would be back home for your birthday.

The few days passed until it was the night before your birthday. You spent the day working at the foundation, eagerly awaiting Charles’s return that evening.

“I’m sorry, I have to stay a couple more days. I miss you,” Charles says over the phone as you make dinner.

“It’s okay, I know you tried,” you can’t help but to hide your disappointment for the rest of the phone call. Yet again, you crawl into an empty bed. When midnight strikes you can’t fall asleep, but that doesn’t matter much when your phone rings.

“Happy birthday! We’re sorry we couldn’t fly over from Brazil,” your father says on the video call. Your smile hides the sting.

“Thank you, Papi. It is just another day,” the words feel fake. You used to believe that, but the man who isn’t here changed your view.

“Nonsense. It is your day. I am giving you the day off, treat yourself to a spa day and a nice lunch,” your aunt tells you.

“Thank you, I won’t do any work, promise,” you yawn, wiped from the day.

You wake up late, immediately checking your phone for a message from Charles. Unfortunately for you, it feels like everyone but Charles messaged you. Hell, even Carlos texted you. Maybe he is just waiting to call you later.

The spa is wonderful, and takes up most of your afternoon. Despite the air of relaxation, you can help but to check you phone for a message from Charles, even a silly instagram reel would suffice.

Heidi invites you to a birthday dinner with Carmen, Kelly, and Lily.

“How has your birthday been so far? I just know Charles gave you the most thoughtful gift,” Heidi says as you sip on wine. You mask your grimace with a smile.

“It has been very lovely. I was able to sleep in late then I enjoyed a long afternoon at the spa. Very relaxing,” you tell them, leaving Charles out of it. The dinner is long, and you do enjoy it, but as time goes on, your heart hurts more.

Heidi pulls you to the side before you get to your car, well, Charles’s car.

“Charles forgot, didn’t he?” She asks, not giving you time to respond. “Listen, the teams have a way of occupying our guys so much that they don’t realize what day it is when they get called in. It isn’t an excuse, but keep that in mind,”

“Thanks, I needed to hear that. And thank you again for organizing the dinner,” you pull Heidi into a hug.

During the drive home, you can feel tears pricking in your eyes. When you get home all that awaits you is a text from Charles saying that he is stuck in meetings and to not wait up for him, that he will call in the morning.

You lay in bed, finally letting the tears fall. You are mad at Charles, Ferrari, the world. There is nothing you wish for more in this moment to be back home in Brazil. You don’t answer your father’s phone call, knowing he will ask how your birthday was, and you cannot lie to him. Instead, you fall asleep, still in the dress you wore to dinner, wondering if you would ever really be the number one priority to Charles.

meanwhile in Maranello…

Charles and Carlos leave the meeting, nearing Midnight. Carlos drives them to the nearby apartment they are staying in for the duration of time Ferrari needs them.

“How was Y/n’s birthday today? Did she enjoy your gift,” Carlos asks, thinking to the many thoughtful gifts he’s received from Charles.

“Fuck. That was today?” Charles panics, looking at his phone calendar.

“Charles, you didn’t?” Carlos feels his heart drop for his teammate.

“I did. I got so caught up here. I need to call her,” Charles immediately calls you, but you don’t pick up. “She didn’t answer, she’s probably asleep,” Charles can feel the tears in his eyes. He feels awful.

“I’ll call Fred, you start packing. Drive back tonight,” Carlos tells him as he parks the car. Both waste no time. Charles is packed to leave within five minutes, and Carlos left no room for negotiation.

Charles drives all night, making it back to the Monaco apartment just after 4:30 in the morning.

He walks into your bedroom quietly, not wanting to disturb your sleep. His heart breaks at the sight of you clutching his pillow, still in the dress from the night before. Charles is quick to carefully strip the dress off of you, and put his t-shirt on you. After getting you under the covers, he slides in beside you, holding you close. Even if you are upset with him, he is even more upset with himself.

When your alarm goes off in the morning, you feel the familiar warmth beside you and your heart melts a little. Charles groans, wiping his eyes as you quickly turn off the alarm. You realize what him being here means, he drove all night.

“Charles, go back to sleep,” you whisper, carefully getting out of bed.

“But I missed your birthday,” he groggily says, fighting the sleep that is trying to pull him under.

“I know, we will talk about it when I get back from work, okay? Get some sleep, you must’ve driven all night,” you tell him gently, silently getting ready for the day.

When Charles wakes up, he spends the day cleaning, restocking the fridge, and picking up the gifts he bought you months ago. He even makes your favorite dinner and his mom’s tiramisu. Carlos called while he was cooking to ask how things were going and to wish Charles luck.

“Charles? You didn’t need to do all this,” you tell him when you get home, the delicious smells from the kitchen leading you to him.

“I did, mon amour. I feel awful,” Charles wraps his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I know, and Ferrari isn’t an excuse for what you did, but maybe you can make it up to me,” you offer a small smile.

“I have a whole night planned. Let me make it up to you,” Charles takes off your jacket for you, instructing you to sit at the dinner table. Your face lights up at the meal sitting in front of you, the candles burning, a perfect dinner date.

“Môr, you didn’t have to do all this,” you tell him when he sits beside you, serving you before you have the chance to do so for yourself.

“I was going to cook for you regardless. I will always treat you like the queen you are,” Charles smiles. You make small talk over the meal, avoiding the elephant in the room. You want to stay mad at him, but you can’t. You love him so much, and he’s made so much effort into making it up to you. Honestly, you forgave him as soon as you woke up and saw him, but you might as well milk it.

“Okay, I have a few gifts for you, but come into the bedroom first,” he tells you when you finish the dessert together. You follow him to your room where new matching silk pajamas wait on your bed, fuzzy blankets, and some snacks.

“Cuddles and a movie?” you ask with a small smile.

“Of course. While you change, I’ll go get your gifts,” Charles says, stepping out of the room. He returns a couple moments later with three boxes. You carefully open them in the order he gives them to you. The first is a white hoodie with his racing number and your uncle’s racing number stitched on the left arm, subtle but thoughtful.

“I thought that you might want something cozy for race days, especially the colder ones. There is one in red and one in black in the closet,” Charles smiles as you hold the softest hoodie known to man.

“Thanks, môr, I love it,” you smile, setting it to the side. You open the second box, it is a signed photo of your uncle and parents together, it must’ve been right before he crashed. You look a Charles a little teary-eyed.

“Ah, I should’ve saved that for last. There is someone who collects a lot of memorabilia and I reached out to see if he was willing to sell anything of your Uncle’s. When I told him it was for you, he gave it for free. Said you deserved it. Truthfully, I was going to give it to your dad for Christmas, but I thought you’d want a piece of your family here,” Charles rubs his neck shyly. You let the tears fall down your cheek as you look at the trio.

“Thank you,” you choke back a sob, flinging your arms around Charles as he holds you tightly.

“One last present,” Charles smiles, handing you a small box once you’ve composed yourself. There is a set of keys and you look confused at him. “Those aren’t your keys, it’s more symbolic. Your Ferrari Roma will be delivered next week,” he tells you, worried you are about to freak out.

“You bought me a car?”

“Well, even though I’m fine with you taking the keys to my cars, I know you don’t always feel comfortable doing so. So, I got you a car,” Charles smiles, watching you process it.

“Wow, thank you. I’ll, um, put these away. Put your pajamas on so we can watch a movie,” you carefully pick up the hoodie and picture. Charles doesn’t hesitate to put on the comfy pajamas and get in bed with you. He puts on your favorite movie and holds you close.

“I really am so sorry I missed your birthday,” Charles says as your head rests against his chest.

“I know. I’m happy you are here now though. Thank you for coming home last night and making it up to me. I love you,” you turn your head so you can look at him.

“There is nowhere else I’d rather be. I love you too,” he kisses you sweetly, happy he didn’t ruin everything.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Rottmnt Leo X Reader??? Leo wants cuddles but Reader is on her/their period and doesn’t wanna ick the poor guy out. (A little angst to fluff😋)

Periods Are Natural (Angst/Fluff)

Rise!Leonardo x reader

A/N: The “ick” part doesn’t play a very big role in this one, as I’m in the firm belief that there’s nothing gross about periods. Ever since high school, me and the other girls made a big deal out of talking about periods out in the open, or making sure people would see the pad or tampon if we gave one to one another. That in turn made it more acceptable, and not long after, guys in our class started walking around with pads or tampons in case someone needed one. So don’t feel ashamed of your period. It’s natural. Hope you’ll enjoy this one💙

Warnings: None, because periods are natural and shouldn’t need a warnings💙

With a groan of pain and discomfort you turned over in your bed, rolling your legs up under you and hiding your face in the pillow. You let a mumble, cursing the day God decided that Eva should experience pain every month, because a damned snake told her to eat an apple. Absolute bullshit in your opinion. Why didn’t Adam get punished? He ate the damn apple as well. Could only be unreasonable favoritism from God’s side, which now led you to your position - cured up on your bed in so much pain, that you were pretty much imobile. And this was just the first day of your period, meaning that you would have several days of pain ahead of you. Just great.

You heard your phone vibrate on your nightstand. You knew it was your dear boyfriend, Leonardo, most likely asking if you were up and wanted company. And as much as you wanted to turn over, grab your phone and tell him to get that portale sword of his going, you didn’t. No matter how much you wanted to hug and cuddle with Leo, you just wanted to sleep. Hoping that if you laid there long enough the pain would dwindle, and soon you would fall asleep. You simply had no energy for anything else at that moment.

But Leo wouldn’t settle with no answer. He tended to become worried when you didn’t answer him. Seeing the things he had seen, and having been through the things he had been through, it wasn’t uncommon for him to worry for you and others. It didn’t matter that you and Leo had only been in a relationship for a few weeks, he cared about you deeply. So when you didn’t answer his text, asking if you were in the mood for cuddling, he started to worry for your wellbeing. And that was for that reason, that the familiar blue light shone through your room, as Leonardo stepped through the blue portal.

Leo didn’t say hello. Instead he rushed to your bed, worried when he saw you laying there unmoving yet tense in pain, rolling you onto your back.

“(Y/N)!”, he gasped, feeling your forehead before looking over you in fear and worry. “Are you okay?! Are you okay, babe?! Are you in pain?!”

You swatted Leo’s hand away with an annoyed expression. “I’m on my period”, you mumbled before curling up on your side once again. “And yes, it hurts”.

Leo seemed relieved by your statement, finally feeling able to return to his joking yet caring nature.

“Oh, babe”, Leo sighed, unable to hide his smile, interlocking his fingers with your, his thumb softly stroking the back of your hand. “You could just have told me that. I was worried out of my mind”.

“I’m sorry”, you mumble, squeezing his hand. “I was just so tired, and well, I didn’t think you would like to hear about my period”.

“Why not?”, Leo asked, genuinely curious. “Periods are natural, so why wouldn’t I want to hear about that?”

“They can get kinda nasty”, you said, making a small face of discomfort.

Leo chuckled at your words. “With my history, you think that I would find periods nasty? Nah, sweetheart, that’s not how it works. Now scoot over, babe. I want to cuddle”.

You shook your head with a smile, before scooting over, just enough so that Leo had space. Climbing behind you, your boyfriend wrapped his arms around you, his hands soothing your aching abdomen with calm motions. And with Leo’s soothing motions, the pain suddenly didn’t seem so bad anymore, and for once that day, you finally felt like you could relax, letting out a big yawn.

“You can go to sleep if you want to, babe”, Leo mumbled against your shoulder with a smile, finding your sleepy nature adorable. “I’ll be here when you wake up”. And that was the last recurrence you needed, before you finally managed to fall asleep in Leo’s arms. And just like Leo had promised, he was still there when you woke up.

[writingwisterias]

Hellooo

so, we always talk about Leon being a girl’s dad and his daughter being a daddy’s girl and all. Which I totally agree he would be such a girl dad. Now, how about a fic, where reader feels like she doesn’t have that kind of bond with their daughter, and she gets insecure about it, and then there’s a whole comfort scene.

anyway I’ve been think way too much since I can’t sleep shit. Love y’all folks. Stay hydrated, drink smut

HII!

This is such an interesting concept, I was so excited to write this! I wanted to do it properly sorry it's late!

Warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Leon being the best husband, Fluff, Established relationship Leon Kennedy x AFAB!Reader

A bond between mother and child could never be broken, that’s what everyone told you after all. At first, it seemed true. Your connection was instant, your love never wavering despite each temper tantrum or sleepiness night she gave you. Leon loved watching the two of you interact; between the soft coos of your voice as you comforted her or her giggles when you played. It was worth it, all the years he had spent fighting, all the months you had both spent trying for this chance. It was all worth the lack of space in his phone gallery as they filled up with candid photos of the two of you. But as all girls did the older she got, turning from baby to toddler she leaned more towards her daddy.

You shouldn’t feel jealous, she was attached to your hip for so long it was his turn to relish the feeling of her love. To create the bond he needed that would shape her entire childhood. Yet, it didn’t stop the waves of jealousy as she ran to him in greeting abandoning whatever she was doing with you. It hurt - no matter how hard you tried to hide it; it never stopped it from feeling true.

Was it you? Did you do something wrong? The questions were never-ending.

Perhaps you were tired today or maybe it was close to the time of the month but you couldn't hide it. Not from Leon. He watched your expression turn sour, feeling guilty as no matter what he tried to do your daughter just wanted to hang out with him. His heart broke as he walked back into the front room at the sight of you on the sofa watching the cartoons with tears in your eyes. You were so selfless to keep this hidden from him, the jealousy that you beat yourself up about. He didn’t care, it was only fair for you to feel this way. After all, you had spent so long creating a bond through nursing and sleepless nights. Caring for her when he wasn’t around because of work. 

Leon sat down next to you wordlessly, his hand coming to rest on your leg that was outstretched on the sofa. He was always good at silent support; forever understanding that if you wanted to talk about it you would eventually. His thumb rubbed soothing motions on your leg, following the curves of your ankles. “Why doesn’t she love me anymore?” You whispered, hating the words instantly as soon as they left your mouth. He took a while to respond, choosing to formulate his words correctly without upsetting you further. “She does. She’s never stopped” He replied. 

He was right, Leon was always right. You knew she never stopped. She always came to you when she hurt herself or needed an extra big snuggle as you watched a film. Needing the safety of your arms instead of Leons. It wasn't like you were completely ignored by her when he was home but it was the little things you missed when he was. “Why does it feel like she does? I don’t mean to feel like this...to be so...jealous but it hurts when she doesn’t want me to say goodnight and tuck her in anymore” 

Leon knew exactly why she was like this when he was home and it was simply for that reason. Due to his job, he was barely here, so the little girl you both loved so deeply wants all her daddy’s attention before he goes again. It hurts for you when he’s home for longer periods like this because it’s a change in routine - not just for her but for you as well.

“It’s only because I’m home love. When I have to leave again she’ll come running back to her mommy” He reasoned. You turned to look at him before sitting up straighter. He smiled as your form tucked into his, hiding away from the world in the crook of his neck. Guilt washed over you at his words, for feeling like this when he’s back. It’s not his fault she’s growing into a Daddy’s girl. If anyone knew how loveable Leon was it’s you. 

“Maybe we can all go out to a little farm tomorrow? We can be like those cringe couples and swing her in between us as we walk” He teased. Your smile was bright as it grew on his features, your chuckle teasing against his neck. You nodded. “Sounds like fun, at least she’ll drag you around to pet all the stinky animals” 

“I suppose that a positive for you then” 

"You can deal with bath time too if she gets all muddy"

Leon laughed, his chuckle vibrating through you as it erupted from his chest. "I see how it is now, You'll get all the cuddles after I'm the mean one that washed her hair" He teased. You never knew how he did it. Comforted you, and ensured that you felt like your feelings were validated despite the situation. You felt bad his connection with her was limited and the fact you grew jealous over the few weeks he got with her compared to every day you got. In the grand scheme of things you both loved her with your heart in very different ways and she needed both of you to be happy.

[little-jana]

"Under The Radar"

Part 1 - Part 2

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: light teasing, use of Y/N

Words: 1.1k

Summary: The team teasingly notices their change in dynamics while working on a new case.

The next few days passed in a blur of cases and paperwork, but something between Spencer and I had undeniably shifted. The kiss—unexpected, quiet, but somehow significant—lingered in the space between us. It wasn’t mentioned aloud, but we both knew it had happened. And every time our eyes met, I could feel the unspoken understanding.

Today, however, we were back in the thick of things. The case was urgent—another missing person—and the team was gathered in the bullpen, piecing together the clues. Spencer had his usual spot at his desk, but there was something different in the air. Maybe it was the slight, nervous glint in his eyes when he’d caught my gaze earlier, or the subtle way he kept glancing over at me. Whatever it was, it felt like something was just under the surface, waiting to bubble up.

“Alright, team,” Hotch began, gathering everyone’s attention. “We’ve got a new lead on the missing girl. JJ, you and Reid, follow up with the local PD. The rest of us will continue canvassing the area.”

“Got it,” JJ said, nodding, though her eyes shifted between Spencer and me for a brief moment. She didn’t miss much, and I could tell she was already suspicious about the sudden shift in our dynamic.

Spencer grabbed his jacket and gave me a brief smile before turning to follow JJ. “Let’s go, partner,” he said, his voice a little too casual, as though he were trying to act unaffected by what had happened between us. But I could see the small tremor in his hand as he reached for the door.

“Don’t look so nervous, Reid,” I teased softly, following him into the hallway. “It’s just a case, remember?”

“I’m not nervous,” he said quickly, but his voice wavered just slightly. He adjusted his glasses, a nervous habit that made me smile. “I’m fine. Just... focused.”

The drive to the local PD was quiet, save for the occasional comment from JJ about the case. Spencer, as usual, was deep in thought, his eyes flicking from his notebook to the street signs outside the window. I couldn’t help but notice how the faintest hint of a smile played at his lips, as though he was trying to hide the warmth that had settled in his chest after our kiss. I wondered if he realized just how much that small gesture had changed things. For both of us.

As we pulled up to the station, Spencer broke the silence again, this time with a question that made me blink.

“So… um, do you think the team’s noticed?” he asked, his voice low, almost embarrassed.

“Noticed what?” I asked innocently, though I had a feeling I knew exactly what he was referring to.

“You know…” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Us. That we... well, kissed.”

I tried not to laugh, but the image of Spencer—intelligent, analytical Spencer—looking so nervous over something as simple as a kiss made my heart swell. “I don’t think they’ve noticed anything. At least not yet.”

“Good,” he said, exhaling as if he’d just avoided a bullet. “Because I’m not... I mean, we don’t have to—”

“Spencer,” I cut in gently, placing a hand on his arm to stop his rambling. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain yourself. We’re fine. And if anyone notices, well... that’s not the end of the world, right?”

Spencer met my gaze, his nervousness melting into something a little more thoughtful. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

As we entered the building, we were met by the local officers, who were quick to show us the latest developments. It didn’t take long before we were deep into the investigation, our usual rhythm kicking in as we worked together, analyzing the evidence and making quick observations. Spencer seemed to settle into his familiar zone, and for a while, I almost forgot about the tension that had been hovering between us.

That was, until we returned to the bullpen and the team was waiting for us.

“Well, look who’s back!” Derek Morgan said with a grin, leaning against the doorframe of the bullpen as we entered. “Reid, you and [Y/N] look like you just walked off a date. Everything go alright?”

I saw Spencer freeze for a fraction of a second, his eyes wide behind his glasses. I quickly shot Derek a playful glare. “You’re imagining things, Morgan,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. “We were just working.”

“Oh, sure, just working,” Morgan teased, stepping closer. “Reid’s face is practically glowing. If you two didn’t kiss, I’ll eat my hat.”

“Derek,” Spencer said, his voice a little too high-pitched for his usual tone, “that’s... not... I mean, we didn’t...”

“Relax, Spence,” JJ chimed in, crossing her arms and smiling knowingly. “You’re not fooling anyone.”

Reid looked around nervously, clearly trying to stay composed, but I could see the color rising in his cheeks. It was clear the team had already picked up on something, but it didn’t seem to bother him as much as I expected.

“Okay, okay,” Hotch interjected, shaking his head with a small smile. “Enough teasing. We have a job to do. But,” he added, his voice slightly amused, “next time you two decide to... ‘just work’ in private, keep it under wraps. We don’t need any distractions.”

Spencer, looking mortified but also relieved that the teasing was over, gave a small nod, and I could feel his embarrassment through the air. But I wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easily. As I passed him on my way to the next case file, I leaned in and whispered, “Maybe you should embrace the germs, Reid. You never know... it might be worth it.”

He looked at me, his expression a mixture of shock and amusement, before he blurted out, “I’ll take my chances.”

And for the first time since that kiss, I saw Spencer Reid — perfectly imperfect Spencer Reid — smile in a way that made my heart flutter.

[tinfoil-jones]

Jerk Ford AU: Secret “Shames”

You'd be hard pressed to get Jerk Ford to admit being ashamed of anything. But, there are some things he either keeps to himself, or if he tells people he makes sure to talk about it like it's funny or not a big deal. Pre-Weirdmageddon, here's a list of Jerk Ford's 'shames', not unlike the Secret Shames list for Canon Stanley.

Acquiring His Quantum Destabilizer. Because he didn’t dedicate himself to destroying Bill Cipher, he didn’t build it himself initially and only finished it when he returned to his own dimension. Jerk Ford got the majority of the thing by taking it from another Ford in the multiverse; he found his dead body after getting pinged by a long-running distress beacon. 

He buried him, ignored how unsettling it was to literally bury himself, and at least had the decency to write "𝓗𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓛𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓷𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓟𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓼" on the nearest large rock. And then, in smaller letters and a lot less decency he wrote "𝐼 𝒹𝒾𝒹𝓃'𝓉 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓁𝓎 𝒶 𝒹𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝓃𝑔𝓁” under it.

His Middle Name Used To Be Filbrick. His father legally changed it to 'Menace' when he was fifteen years old as a punishment for getting the entire Pines family permabanned from the only Krogers in Glass Shard Beach.

Anemia. While there are various versions of Stanford Pines who wear several layers even in the summer due to embarrassing tattoos, and/or horrific scarring from surviving in the multiverse, but Jerk Ford doesn't have that problem.

Bill gave up possessing him early on, and Jerk Ford didn't get into as many fights because he'd rather run off and escape to terrorize the multiverse another day. 

The real reason that he wears layers is because he has an iron deficiency from malnutrition and running a lot, and he gets easily cold because of it.

New Joisey. He has a Jersey drawl just like Stan does, but he hides it. It only comes out when he's in a vulnerable state (i.e never), or if he's in a road rage. He doesn't know if this is unique to him, or if all versions of him are like this.

His First Hate Club. The Ford Hate Club in the multiverse that is mostly made up of other Fords isn’t the first of its kind. In High School, Stanley had started a “Stan Pines Fan Club” which people joined this time unlike in canon. However, he was promptly voted out of it when the other members found out it was a fanclub for both Stan Twins and not just Stanley. 

It then changed into the Stanford Pines Hate Club, which the school allowed because they couldn’t stand him either. A few of the teachers, the head of the PTA board, and even the District Superintendent joined. 

What He Said To Escape When He Was Almost Killed. He knows it was low even for him.

"He died thinking you saw him as worthless, didn't he? Isn't that the last thing you ever said to him? Bill didn't make you say that, no one did. That was you."

Being Frequently Mistaken For The Stanford Pines From The Jerk Dimension. It’s exactly the same as Dimension-R34LITY, except the beef jerky isn’t expensive. 

That Time He Worked At A Space Hooters. In his defense, the uniform wasn’t that different from what he wore in college.

Darkest Thought. He noticed the number of Stanford Pines in the multiverse started to dwindle more and more throughout the years.

"Maybe I'll never get home, and I'll just die out here."

[stsgluver]

“i like this one,” you pointed to a particular design in one of the portfolio books you’d stolen from geto’s desk. it was a dahlia – black and white with wisps spinning around the flower. it was delicate and soft, and very much unlike the usual tattoos your boyfriend usually created.

the boyfriend in question peered over at you laying across his tattoo chair that you’d adjusted so the back was resting horizontally. he looked unfairly attractive – hair tied back in a messy bun and the glasses he only ever wore when no one else was in the room tipped to the edge of his nose. 

“want me to do it for you?” geto nodded his head towards the portfolio in your hands, a small smirk present. to say you weren’t a fan of needles was an understatement and, in the six months you’d been together and the two years you’d been friends, he was yet to convince you to let him do one for you.

“no,” you scrunched up your nose at him, ignoring his light chuckle at your quick response. 

“yeah no one wants your shit ass.” you spun your head around to see fushiguro toji sliding open the door to geto’s work space. out of all the people geto worked with, toji by far ranked in last place for his distasteful personality. his lips curled up into a twisted grin, scar lifting as his eyes drifted over your figure and you wished you were hiding behind your boyfriend and not sprawled out along the chair. “i’ll do it for you darling, even add some extra benef–”

“fuck off fushiguro,” geto said forcefully. you’d been coming to the tattoo shop long before you and geto had started dating and the older man had always been this way, but he’d ramped it up tenfold once you’d officially gotten together. 

toji rested back against geto’s door frame, his cocky attitude fueled by geto’s clear annoyance. “gojo just wanted me to tell you that you haven’t responded to an email yet.” he gave a wink in your direction before he ducked back out of the room. you gagged in response, slipping off of the chair to shut the door he’d left wide open.

“asshole,” geto muttered under his breath, leaning back and pulling his hair out of its loose bun as he so often did when he was stressed. “how much longer are you going to be here?” 

geto loved having you down at his work, loved being around you as he sketched as he considered you his muse. however, toji had his own special way of tainting every situation he was ever in and digging his nails right under your boyfriend’s skin in a way no one else could.

there was a small pout on your lips as you made your way over to geto, to your boyfriend who was usually always so level-headed no matter what was happening. “hey, don’t punish me for him putting you in a bad mood."

holding onto the back of his chair, you spun it slightly so that he was facing you. he didn’t resist your movements and his legs naturally spread enough so that you could shuffle between them, your arms loosely swung over his shoulders. beneath the collar of his top you could see the ends of several tattoos that decorated his tanned skin. 

“i’m not,” he closed his eyes, leaning into you to press a light kiss to your forearm. “i just prefer for my girlfriend not to be sexualised by that thing.” 

you pushed the strands of hair that obscured his face from your vision behind his ears, “i think i know what will make you feel better.”

“letting me tattoo my name on your forehead?” geto grinned up at you and you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning down to kiss him. knocking your nose against his, you feel the cool metal of his nose ring against your skin. a nose ring he could definitely convince you to get, though it would be from shoko and definitely not him. you had seen what had happened to gojo’s ear when the two of them had gotten drunk and thought piercing each other with a sewing needle would be a genius idea.

“buying me something from the vending machine?” you countered, giggling at the drop of his smile. the vending machine had been gojo’s idea of bringing in more money for the business and he’d somehow managed to convince yaga he was right. so far, the only person who ever seemed to use that thing was you (with geto’s money). 

“i hate gojo for buying that thing,” geto sighed, dramatically making a thing of grabbing his wallet from his drawer. he pinched your hip lightly and nodded his head towards the door, “after you, princess.”

[loveliestlovelygirl]

play for me

pianoteacher!anakin x student!reader

synopsis: mr. skywalker asks you to play the piano for him. only this time, he wants you to sit in his lap.

w.c: 0.9k+

warnings!! {minors dni} age gap, power imbalance, cockwarming, gentle dom!anakin, sub!reader, fem!reader

inspired by this ask

The humored grin Mr. Skywalker wears as he opens the door for you tells you he’s not exactly surprised that you show up on his doorstep this weekend. He pats you on the head and moves back to allow you in his home.

“Already missing me?” he teases, shutting the door and locking it behind him.

You hold your hands behind your back and bite your lip as you nod. Your heart suddenly quickens when he steps toward you, closing the gap.

“I missed you too,” he murmurs, pulling you into his embrace. As he holds you, he presses the side of his face to his chest and his chin rests on your head. “How’s college going? I’ve been meaning to call you.”

“Really?” You wanted to say why haven’t you, but this wasn’t the time. And you think you know why. It’s probably for the same reason why you didn’t reach out to him. You’re doubting things.

It’s only been two weeks since you last saw him. So, his lack of calling you might be meaningless. You came back to remind him of what you want.

He takes your coat and hangs it up for you. “Every night I’m missing you. I-I just figured... you might be busy.”

You grab his hands and slot your fingers between his. “That’s not true.”

Anakin turns to hide his face. “Have you thought about... us?”

Hearing him say us melted you. Does he know that you’re all his? Only his. You belong to him. He’s the one you gave everything to. He’s seen, touched, and kissed every inch of your body. He’s been inside you. Why is he acting... hesitant?It’s so unlike him.

“My feelings haven’t changed,” you say. “I drove home to see you.”

The grin that builds on his lips is smug. “Oh. So, mommy and daddy don’t know you’re here?”

You shake your head, feeling almost humiliated by the infantilizing way he asked you that. The fact that you liked it unnerves you even more.

“Good,” he starts pulling you by the hand into the parlor. “You’re not gonna have time to see them anyway.”

“Why?” you ask, feeling stupid for not knowing the answer.

He chuckles. “You’re going to be spending every minute with me, angel.”

You jump on him to hug him. You squeeze tightly. Inhaling hard, you drown in his familiar scent. You’ve missed him so much you could almost cry.

“Play for me?” he asks, then kisses the top of your head. He lifts the lid of the white grand piano. He says that because he knows it will make you feel better.

With your body against his and the bottom of your chin pressed against his chest, you look up at him. “Of course. I’ve been working on something new.”

He plops down on the bench first. “I wanna hear it.”

Holding onto his hand, you step around and smooth the back of your little spring dress down. But before you make contact with the cushion, Anakin grabs your hips and forces you down onto his lap.

Your eyes instinctively enlarge, you fight against him at first. “What’re you—”

He turns you to the side and grabs the back of your neck to shut you up with a kiss. The way his mouth defiles you as his tongue pushes past your lips instantly relaxes you. Closing your eyes, you hold onto him and give into him completely. It’s like he knew this was what you needed to break the uncomfortable tension. You couldn’t help it though. For the last few weeks, you worried that he lost interest.

Yet the hand that ascends the length of your thigh puts your fears to rest. And his lips reveal that you’re still the object of his obsessive desires.

You feel his fingers invade and create a space between you and the crotch of your panties. In one motion, he swipes them from your legs and sets them to the side. Come to think of it... he never returned the last pair he ripped from your body. For a moment, you consider the perverted reasons he held your favorite panties captive.

Surprisingly, your teacher’s hand leaves you wanting. You expected him to finger you. You’d be grateful just to be edged. You’ve missed him. And when he breaks the kiss, the ache of being left unsatisfied builds.

You know he sees the disappointment on your face.

“Stand up for me?” He helps you to his feet.

With your back to him, you hear him fiddling with something. You glance over your shoulder to see his leather belt removed from his pants and dangling in his hand. There’s no question where this is leading, especially hearing him unzip.

No words between you, he grabs your hips once more and pulls you down on him, this time guiding his cock inside your pussy. You’re already slick just for him. The hours and hours, days and days of waiting left you always on edge. Sometimes, just thinking about him was enough to turn you on.

With his length fully seated inside you, he hugs you close to him. His lips brush against your ear. “Are you comfortable?”

Both of you are completely still. Your face is hot... and so is the rest of your body. Your heart beat is a little quicker than normal, but that’s only because you feel so close to him. When he’s inside you, all you feel is contentment and pleasure because everything you could want is in your grasp.

“Yeah,” you whisper back.

He nuzzles the side of your neck. “Good. Are you going to show me what you’ve been working on, angel?”

“Right now?” You look over your shoulder. “Like this.”

“Yeah,” he shifts his hips, and the new, deeper angle makes you shiver, “exactly like this.”

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