#my competition clothes came today!

[afaroffsong]

Actually, putting on nice clothes DOES completely change your perspective of yourself.

[kitscutie]

hi! i saw your post about snow omg, can i request a coriolanus x mentor!reader where she’s similar to like clemensia but she’s more close to corio and they have a secret relationship? thank you in advance if you do this rq! love ur tsitp writings sm 🥹

snow and roses: part I (coriolanus snow x fem!reader)

pairing: coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: none!

summary: you and coriolanus have been dating in secret for months, all it takes is one songbird for everything to come into the light.

a/n: first time writing for snow and I'm very excited about it! I've always loved the hunger games and this movie was insane in the best way so please enjoy! I will be making this a series and this is only part one so stay tuned for the rest!

word count: 2.2k

join my taglist here.

"You're going to get it Coryo, don't stress." You soothed the boy as you sat next to him. It was barely even six in the morning and the pair of you had woken up, well he had woken up and you with him as he blatantly needed your support, desperate for the Plinth Prize.

You didn't need the prize, already coming from a wealthy Capitol family and yet you felt the same hope that he would win as you would for yourself, stomach twisting into knots at the thought.

"There's good candidates Y/N, it feels as if the odds are already stacked against me." He sighed, leaning over as he sat so his elbows rested on his knees, head in his hands.

"The odds are in your favour Coryo, you're special. Different." With that he looked at you, a small smile gracing his pale lips. He leaned up kissing you gently, fully embracing the special moment before he got up from his place next to you.

"I'll see you at the Academy?" He asked, knowing you had to leave quickly back to your own house in order to change but also in order to avoid the suspicions of your own family who had no idea of your relationship with Snow.

"Of course." You replied, also standing up and pulling on last nights clothes as you left.

You studied the dark an empty halls of his house, ensuring Grandma'am was nowhere to be seen before you quickly walked to the door, exiting un-noticed until Tigris came around the corner, seemingly equally in a rush and holding a shirt you knew must be for Coriolanus.

"Oh, hello Y/N." She smirked as you both stopped, unsure how to approach the conversation. She was one of the only people who knew something was going on between the pair of you and still she wasn't quite sure what it was.

"Hi Tigris. You look lovely today." You said quietly, feeling like a scolded child even though you hadn't done anything wrong.

"Well if you're here I can only assume Coryo is awake, I'll see you again I assume?" She replied.

"Yes and yes." You answered awkwardly before hurrying away once again, letting out a sigh of relief as you heard her enter the house. You could only hope she wouldn't mention your interaction to Coriolanus.

You walked into the Academy at the same time as you did everyday, conveniently when Coriolanus would also show up.

"Coryo!" You yelled, spotting him across the room. He turned his head to you as though it was a surprise to see you, it wasn't.

"Y/N. What a pleasure." He smiled with his typical Snow charm, allowing you to link your arm with his.

"How are you feeling?" You asked him, thumb gently rubbing his bicep through his shirt. You rounded the corner past the food and yet you both avoided it for different reasons. You having already been fed by your family and their lavish lifestyle and he too nervous to even look at it.

"Never felt better." He replied with false confidence but no one else around you had to know that.

"Snow always lands on top." You teased as you entered the hall, spotting your friends if that's what you could call them stood in the centre of it all, as they usually did, talking about everyone around them no doubt.

"Y/N and Coriolanus, finally some real competition has arrived." Said Arachne, a glass in her hand and a smirk on her face as she always seemed to appear in public.

"Be humble now Arachne, you never know who will be chosen." You smiled, turning on your Capitol attitude in order to fit in. You were Capitol born and raised but your family taught you to be humble and kind. It was clear this wasn't common among parents here.

"Have you tried this lamb? It's scandalous." Said Felix, it made you chuckle how he used such a word to describe food.

"Only the vulgar eat with their fingers Felix, daddy not teach you table manners?" Snarled Festus, it was as though there was always a secret competition between the two of them, never quite made clear, never making sense.

"Maybe he would've if he wasn't so busy running the country. Hey they called us here for the Plinth prize right? 'Cause I heard Doctor Gaul's in the building." Felix changed the subject, knowing he had won. It was impossible to lose as the President's son you supposed.

You hadn't noticed but now Felix had mentioned it you took in the strange atmosphere, tense and mystery lingering in the air. "That is peculiar." You said, holding onto Coryo's bicep tighter subconsciously.

"Plinth. Look at his spawn. Who would've thought you could buy your way into the Academy." Felix once again snarled, he was always filled with such anger though it seemed todays anxiety only heightened this.

"Well you can't buy class. Did you see his mothers outfit? Sorry his Ma's." Festus joked, seemingly over his small tiff with Felix.

"Dress a turnip in a ball gown and it'll still beg to be mashed." Said Coriolanus, playing into their pompous ways. You knew he didn't agree, not really.

"Don't do that we all know you like him." Arachne spat with her spider like venom, raising her eyebrows at Coriolanus.

"I don't like him Arachne, I tolerate him. He's district." Said Coriolanus and he seemed pleased with his answer as you felt him relax under your touch. You however did like Sejanus and weren't afraid to show it.

"If I hear one more time how immoral these Hunger Games are I'll put him in the arena mys- Sejanus. You made it to the Reaping for once." Festus cut himself off, caught by Sejanus himself.

"And you made it to graduation Festus, we're both shocked." Sejanus replied and you couldn't help but snicker, hiding it as you realised no one else shared the same reaction. "Y/N, always a pleasure." He smiled at you politely. You couldn't help but note the way Coryo's jaw clenched, neck twitching as he looked at you to gaze your reaction.

"As are you Sejanus." You nodded. Arachne scoffed quickly mentioning the only thing she really cared about, the prize.

"Spill it, who won the prize." She asked.

"Well, no I'm not gonna ruin my father's big day. No one here actually likes him, but they do love his money." He once again hit back at the group around him, you felt sorry for the boy. Alone in a room full of people. "You know what that's like don't you Arachne?" He dug the hole deeper and you internally smirked, grateful someone was brave enough to stand up to a powerful woman like Arachne.

As the Captiol's anthem began to play you made your way to your seats, sat next to Coriolanus you placed a kiss on his cheek and whispered 'good luck' in his ear, though you didn't really think he needed it.

Doctor Gaul's chuckle resounded around the room in a menacing echo that always managed to make you shrink into your seat.

She commended you all for being star students before untroducing the creator of the games: Casca Highbottom.

He went on to tell you all that today was not the day the prize would be given out but instead there would be one more task to challenge you all and gage your true worth. Everyone seemed confused but not Sejanus.

"What's going on?" You whispered to Coriolanus. He sensed your anxiety placing a calming hand on your knee but gave you no other response which reassured you that you had not been left completely in the dark.

"The Plinth prize will no longer be determined by who was the best grades. But by who is the best mentor in the Hunger Games." With that there was outrage, to you it was dehumanizing for the tributes, 'mentored' by people their own age but for the others they only seemed to care whether they were given someone strong or weak. A 'runt' in Arachne's words.

The reaping commenced and you couldn't help but wish to be anywhere but here. You didn't want to do this, you didn't need the money yet you were forced to have another's life in your hands.

You got a small girl from 8 named Wovey, seeing her face on the big screen left you determined, determined to help her in anyway you could on the path to being a victor. Even if that meant Coryo may lose the prize.

Snow's tribute left the room in horror, her stage presence and brutality sent shivers down your spine, though you supposed that the outer Districts had it harder and that sort of survival must be built into her.

Standing up on shaky legs you grabbed Coriolanus up from his chair and outside of the room, you needed fresh air and you needed to talk to him about what you were about to face, arguably harder than any other test the Capitol could give you.

"Slow down Y/N, I can hardly keep up." He said, words laced with worry.

"I don't believe I can do this Coryo, did you see my tribute? She's hardly eligible for school never mind to be put into an arena where she's going to be killed. She's only a child." You paced while he leant against a pillar, beginning to eat some food he a had smuggled from the buffet table.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice Y/N." He tried to help but only made it worse as you realised you were trapped in yet another one of the Capitol's games. He seemingly realised this. "Hey, hey. If there as anyone in that room who would get that tribute, I'm glad it was you. Arachne would've given up on her by now. With you she has a fighter. A chance at surviving." He said while grabbing your wrists to stop your pacing.

"It's not that simple Coryo-" You tried but he cut you off.

"It is Y/N." He said sternly and you understood what he meant. It was either play into their games or become apart of them, no other choice. "You're a born winner Y/N, give her some of it hm?" He stared down at you as he spoke and his blue eyes while at times piercing sucked you in, heart rate lowering almost immediatley.

"Okay." You said.

"Okay." He smiled, reaching a hand around your neck to bring you into a kiss. It started off slow and caring though quickly intensified as he turned you both around so now you leant against the pillar instead of him.

His hand tightened around your neck, not enough to actually cut off air but just enough to make you feel dizzy as he pushed his body further into yours, keeping you against the cold cement and trapped in his arms.

Your mouths clashed together intensely, tongues colliding in a rhythm you though you would only ever be able to find with him in this lifetime. He was your everything, your light in a blizzard.

"Ahem." Coughed Casca, drawing the two of you away from each other with baited breaths and rosy cheeks. "Just like your father, yes we were best friends. Once." He said, and with that it felt like you weren't even in the room.

"Tell me Mr Snow, what are your plans after these games?" Casca asked.

"I hope to go onto the university sir, naturally." Coriolanus answered, pulling his waistcoat straight where it had been wrinkled by your tight grip.

"And if you fail to win the Plinth Prize, what then?" Asked Casca, it suddenly became clear to you that he knew something, just what he knew you were unsure of.

"We'd pay the tuition of course." He scoffed, insulted at Casca's insinuation even if it was true.

"Look at you, in your makeshift shirt and too tight shoes. Trying desperately to fit in when I know the Snow's don't have a pot to piss in." Casca said. You felt your own heart drop and so you couldn't imagine how Coriolanus felt, the insult to his pride was one you knew he wouldn't take well and so you grabbed his hand subtly, hiding it behind your back as to not show any sign of weakness to Casca.

"Goodluck with that poor little Songbird." He said, and with that he left. Leaving you to do damage control.

"Ignore him Coryo, he's trying to get into your head." You reassured him, moving a Snow white hair from his face. His jaw looked similar to the way it did earlier when Sejanus had so much as acknowledged your presence.

"He's right Y/N. From the moment my father died I lost. The odds were never in my favour." He spat out, though his actions didn't match his words as he gently removed your hand from his hair before beginning his exit of the Academy. "Come on now Y/N, I've got a songbird to catch." He said sarcastically.

You sped after him hoping Casca's words hadn't knocked him too much, after all, Snow lands on top and he wouldn't be the one to change that.

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am, @riordanness, @suvgs, @charmed-asylum

[stiles24]

Right on Time. | e.m.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x (f)reader.

Summary: Eddie's best friend comes to the rescue when a certain 'fan' of his band just won't quit.

-----

Rushing through the doors of The Hideout, you're greeted first by the familiar rush of smokey air, and then the gruff smile of Nick the bouncer. Squeezing his arm as you walked past, something near the stage caught your eye.

Gareth had spotted you the moment you walked in, and was now waving frantically. Subtlety had never been his strong point, and today was no different. As each step took you closer to him, his eyes darted between you, and the side of the stage.

"Where's the fire, G?"

Following his gaze, it took only seconds to zero in on the source of his panic.

Eddie was kneeling at the edge of the stage, tonight's setlist clutched tightly in his ringed fingers like a lifeline. Leaning dangerously close to him was the She-Devil, dressed in her usual skin-tight clothing. Her real name was Tiffany, and she'd graduated from Hawkins High a few years earlier. She had a thing for guys in bands, and apparently, Eddie was really doing it for her these days.

Tiffany had been to the last four Corroded Coffin shows, each time doing more and more to get Eddie's attention. To her, this seemed to mean wearing less clothing, and invading Eddie's personal space more. You'd been a little surprised when Eddie had brushed her off the first week, but it was clear that he wasn't interested, something she wasn't, or didn't care to understand.

The first time she'd shown up to one of their shows with a few friends, it had earned Jeff a punch to the chest while the boys were packing up. He'd joked that you had competition for the title of their number one fan. You'd not so politely reminded him that you were their first, number one, and sometimes only fan, and that if he ever disrespected you like that again, you might slip and tell Ms. Dunne the math teacher about the dream of his she'd starred in.

Looking back at Gareth, he gestured wildly.

"You have to do something!" He went as far as to grab you by the shoulders and shake. "You have to save him."

"First of all, you've been reading too many fantasy novels, Gar. You need to take a breath."

It made you laugh a little as you watched your friend visibly inhale, as if it was the first time in a while that he'd done so.

Looking back over your shoulder, you took a breath of your own, trying to come up with an idea. Though you weren't above violence, The Hideout wasn't the place for it. You didn't want Nick to have to get involved, and it'd be a pain in the ass for the boys to have to find a new place to play for five drunks each week.

If you were being honest, you didn't want to get involved either, but Eddie looked like a drowning man, and as his best friend, you were almost legally obligated to help him in this situation. He winced as Tiffany ran a blood red nail down his arm, and that was the final hit of courage you needed. You just hoped what you were about to do wasn't going to blow up in your face.

Steeling yourself with a few deep breaths, you gave Gareth's arm a final squeeze and turned to where Eddie was in She-Devil's clutches.

"Hey, handsome!" Eddie's head whipped towards you at the sound of your voice, his eyes wide.

Before you could second guess your actions, you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes, and grabbed Eddie's collar, pulling him close enough to press your lips to his own.

The kiss was quick, over before it had really begun, but Eddie's hand came up to circle your wrist, his rings cool against your heated skin. When his eyes opened, you widened your own, pleading silently with him to play along.

A scoff came from behind you, and you called on everything you'd learned in tenth grade drama class as you turned to face the She-Devil herself.

"Oh, hi! I hope I'm not interrupting. It's just so hard to keep my hands off this guy when he's in the same room." Before she could say anything, you looked back over your shoulder to Eddie, who was trying his hardest not to laugh. "Sorry I'm late, baby. Heather just kept talking about her boyfriend instead of helping me close up, when all I wanted to do was get here to see mine."

At the insinuation that Eddie was your boyfriend, two things happened. Eddie's arm snaked around your shoulders from behind, and Tiffany huffed loudly, before turning to stomp away towards the bar. Once she was out of earshot, you turned to face him, raising an eyebrow.

"Mission accomplished?"

Instead of saying anything, Eddie slid himself off the edge of the stage, coming to rest directly in front of you.

"You-you kissed me."

"I know, Eds. I was there. I'm sorry. I just couldn't think of anything else, and you looked like you needed help, and-"

"You wanna do it again?"

It was pointless to try stopping the blush that spread across your cheeks, so you buried your face into Eddie's chest, feeling the rumble of his laughter. Folding you into his arms, a calloused hand found a home on the sliver of skin at the base of your spine, making it very hard for you to think.

"My hero," he whispered into the crown of your head.

"Sorry I was late,"

Pulling back a little, he shook his head.

"Nah, you were right on time."

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Six Times Toto Pushed His Luck (Part1)

Part 2

word count: 888

Pairing: Toto Wolff x wife reader

Summary: When Toto Wolff's antics push his wife to the brink, she resorts to calling him by his full name, "Torger," reminding him who's really in charge in their playful yet loving relationship.

______________________________________________________________

You never really called him by his full first name. Toto was just easier, softer, and it fit him—most of the time. But sometimes, just sometimes, he pushed you to the edge, and then ‘Toto’ wasn’t enough. That’s when ‘Torger’ came out, a signal that he was skating on thin ice. And on very rare, very special occasions, when things were absolutely out of control, it became ‘Torger Christian Wolff.’

1. Monaco Apartment - Breakfast Disaster

It started off as a calm morning in Monaco, the sunlight streaming into your apartment. You’d barely woken up when you heard the clattering of pots and pans in the kitchen. Toto’s cooking. You sighed, knowing exactly where this was headed.

As you entered the kitchen, you were greeted by the sight of him attempting to scramble eggs in the smallest pan possible. Half of the eggs were sticking to the pan, the other half still runny, and he had the heat turned up too high.

“Toto,” you began gently, “maybe I should—”

“I’ve got this,” he said, his voice confident.

Seconds later, the eggs flipped awkwardly, some landing on the stove, some… on the floor. You pinched the bridge of your nose, exasperated.

“Torger,” you finally said, crossing your arms. “You need to stop before we end up with a fire.”

He froze, the name cutting through his concentration. “Torger? It’s not that bad.”

“Torger. Step away from the stove.”

2. Silverstone Garage - Headphones Drama

Silverstone was in full swing, the race just as intense as you expected. Things weren’t going Mercedes’ way, and you could feel Toto’s frustration brewing from across the garage. Then, as if on cue, it happened—the dramatic slamming of the headphones. He ripped them off his head and threw them down onto the table in one swift, angry motion.

You sighed. How many pairs had he gone through this season? Too many to count.

“Torger,” you said, louder than usual to cut through the tension. “If you break one more pair of headphones…”

He looked at you with raised eyebrows. “Torger?”

“Yes. Torger. Those things are expensive, and you’re going to run out at this rate.”

He chuckled, the tension easing a bit. “Alright, alright. I’ll be gentler.”

3. Vienna - The Overpacking Incident

Packing for a quick weekend trip to Vienna should have been simple. Should have been. But when Toto decided to take the lead, you knew you were in for trouble. You opened the suitcase and stared in disbelief. There were four pairs of shoes, multiple shirts, and enough clothes to last a month.

“Torger,” you called from the bedroom. “Come here.”

He appeared in the doorway, clearly proud of his work. “I packed for us.”

You pointed at the suitcase. “Torger, why are there four pairs of shoes? We’re gone for two days!”

“I thought options would be good.”

“Torger, we don’t need options. We need space. Unpack this now.”

4. The Paddock - PDA Overload

The paddock was bustling, as usual, cameras and fans everywhere. You and Toto were walking through when, out of nowhere, he decided it was the perfect moment for an over-the-top kiss. In front of everyone. The photographers snapped away, and you could practically feel the internet lighting up with memes.

“Toto,” you whispered, trying to pull away.

“What?” he asked, his grin devilish.

You shot him a look, but he leaned in again, clearly enjoying himself. That’s when you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Torger. Not in front of everyone!”

He laughed, finally pulling back. “What? Can’t I show my wife some affection?”

“Torger, not when the whole grid is watching.”

5. Home Gym - The Training Competition

One of Toto’s favorite pastimes was working out, and today, he had challenged you to a little ‘friendly’ competition. At first, it was fun—some light weights, a few squats—but as the session went on, his competitive side started showing. He kept pushing, adding more weights and insisting on extra rounds.

By the time you were on your third set of squats, you’d had enough. Your legs felt like jelly, and he was still going strong.

“Torger,” you panted, dropping the weights. “I’m not a Formula 1 driver. This is insane.”

“One more set,” he said, completely ignoring the exhaustion in your voice.

“Torger,” you warned, “if you make me do one more squat, you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

He chuckled, finally letting you off the hook. “Fine, fine. You win.”

6. Baku - The Meltdown

Baku was not going well. The race had been a disaster, and Toto’s mood was even worse. He spent the entire evening pacing, ranting about strategies, tires, and everything that had gone wrong. You had tried to calm him down, but nothing worked.

Finally, he stormed into the hotel room, still mid-rant, and that was when you’d had enough.

“Torger Christian Wolff,” you snapped, your voice sharper than you’d ever intended.

He stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide. You never used his full name unless you were seriously upset.

“You need to stop this. It’s done, the race is over. Either calm down or I’m calling Christian Horner to tell him you need a break.”

Toto blinked, stunned. “You wouldn’t…”

“Try me, Torger Christian.”

He stared at you for a moment before letting out a deep sigh. “Alright, I’ll stop.”

“Good.”

[scoupsakakitty]

In the Spotlight | idol!Mingyu x model!reader | Fluff

The sharp click of a camera shutter echoed through the studio, punctuating the steady rhythm of movements on set. The air buzzed with anticipation as stylists and assistants fluttered around, adjusting lighting and perfecting details. Y/N stood in front of the mirror, nervously tugging at the hem of her fitted Calvin Klein denim jacket. This was her first major campaign as a model—a dream opportunity for a newcomer like her.

It was also her first time in Seoul. As a foreigner, she was still adjusting to the bustling city, its fast-paced energy, and the language barrier. Just a few weeks ago, she had been offered a modeling contract that would keep her in Korea for several months. The opportunity was incredible, but the pressure of being in an unfamiliar place and having to prove herself in a competitive industry weighed heavily on her.

Adding to her nerves was the fact that her partner for this shoot was none other than Kim Mingyu of SEVENTEEN. A name she’d heard countless times since arriving in Korea. Seeing him in person was something else entirely. Mingyu radiated a natural charisma that made everyone around him seem a little more at ease. For Y/N, though, being paired with such a seasoned professional only amplified her anxiety.

Mingyu had arrived at the studio earlier, casually greeting the crew with his easygoing charm. Now, he was leaning against a clothing rack, scrolling through his phone while waiting for the shoot to begin.

“First time in Seoul?” a deep voice broke through her thoughts.

Startled, Y/N turned to find Mingyu standing beside her. His towering frame and warm smile were even more disarming up close.

“Uh, yeah,” she admitted, her cheeks warming. “First time.”

“Well,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter, “what do you think so far?”

“It’s amazing,” she said. “But… it’s also a lot. Everything moves so fast here. And I’m still trying to pick up the language.”

Mingyu nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, I can imagine it’s tough. But don’t worry you’ll find your footing. And if you need someone to practice Korean with, I’m happy to help.”

Y/N blinked in surprise. “Really?”

“Of course,” he said with an easy grin. “It’ll make your time here way easier. Plus, I’m a pretty good teacher.”

She laughed nervously, already feeling a little less intimidated by him. “I might take you up on that.”

“Good,” Mingyu said. “And don’t stress too much about today. You’ve got this.”

————————————————————————————

The shoot began in earnest not long after. Y/N started with solo shots, her nerves gradually subsiding as she found her rhythm under the photographer’s direction. But when it came time for the paired photos, Mingyu joined her on set, and suddenly, her confidence wavered.

“Alright, Mingyu, Y/N,” the photographer called out, clapping his hands. “I want something natural. Playful, but intimate. Let’s see some real connection here.”

Mingyu turned to her with a reassuring smile. “Just follow my lead. We’ll make it work.”

The first pose had Y/N leaning against Mingyu’s chest, his arm draped casually around her shoulders. She tried to focus on the camera, but the warmth radiating from him and the scent of his cologne were hard to ignore.

“Perfect,” the photographer encouraged. “Now, Mingyu, lean in a little closer, like you’re sharing a secret.”

Mingyu obliged, lowering his face until his lips were just inches from Y/N’s ear. She could feel his breath as he murmured, “Relax. You’re doing great.”

Despite herself, Y/N giggled softly, and the photographer immediately captured the moment.

“That’s it!” he exclaimed. “Exactly what we need!”

Mingyu winked at her, clearly pleased with himself. “See? I told you I’d make this easy for you.”

By the end of the shoot, Y/N was exhausted but exhilarated. She had survived her first big campaign and doing so alongside someone like Mingyu felt like an achievement in itself.

“Great job today,” Mingyu said as they packed up, handing her a water bottle. “You were amazing out there.”

“Thanks,” she said, smiling shyly. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “I try.”

As the crew began to disperse, Mingyu hesitated before speaking again. “So… since you’re staying in Seoul for a while, have you had a chance to explore yet?”

Y/N shook her head. “Not really. I’ve been so busy with work that I haven’t had time.”

“Well,” he said, his grin widening, “if you’re not too tired, I could show you around tonight. You can’t come all this way and not see the city.”

Y/N blinked, surprised by the offer. “Are you sure? Don’t you have other things to do?”

“Not tonight,” he said casually. “And trust me, I know all the best spots. Plus, it’ll give us a chance to work on your Korean.”

She hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Alright. Lead the way.”

————————————————————————————

An hour later, Y/N found herself strolling through the bustling streets of Hongdae with Mingyu by her side. The neighborhood was alive with energy—street performers drew crowds, vendors sold sizzling snacks, and neon signs lit up the night sky.

“This is incredible,” she said, her eyes wide as she took in the sights and sounds.

“It’s one of my favorite places,” Mingyu admitted. “You can find just about anything here—good food, live music, art. The vibe is unbeatable.”

They stopped at a street food stall, where Mingyu ordered two skewers of tteokbokki. He handed one to Y/N, watching her face as she took her first bite.

“Oh my god,” she said, her eyes lighting up. “This is amazing.”

“Told you,” he said with a grin. “Street food in Korea is undefeated.”

As they wandered through the lively streets, their conversation flowed easily. Mingyu pointed out his favorite cafes and shops, while Y/N shared her experiences as a foreigner trying to adapt to life in Seoul.

“It’s been a little overwhelming,��� she admitted as they sat on a bench overlooking the Han River. The city lights shimmered on the water, casting a serene glow. “But I’m really grateful for the opportunity. Even if it’s hard sometimes.”

“You’ll get there,” Mingyu said confidently. “It’s just a matter of time. And like I said if you need help with Korean, I’m just a text away.”

She smiled, feeling genuinely at ease. “Thanks, Mingyu. That means a lot.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the distant hum of the city blending with the sound of the river. For the first time since arriving in Korea, Y/N felt like she belonged.

————————————————————————————

As the night came to an end, Mingyu walked her back to her hotel. They stopped in front of the entrance, the soft glow of the streetlights casting shadows on his face.

“Thanks for tonight,” Y/N said sincerely. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget this.”

“Me neither,” Mingyu replied with a warm smile. “I’m glad I got to show you around.”

There was a brief pause before he added, “Next time, I’ll take you to even better places. And maybe we can squeeze in a Korean lesson or two.”

Y/N laughed, her cheeks flushing. “I’ll hold you to that.”

As she stepped inside, she glanced back to see Mingyu still standing there, his hands in his pockets and a small smile on his lips.

And in that moment, she couldn’t help but feel that her first trip to Seoul and her new life as a model was only the beginning of something unforgettable.

————————————————————————————

[moongirlcleo]

A Thorough Appointment

Tags: Jealousy, Childhood Friends, MMF Threesome, Counter Sex, Kitchen Sex, Oral, Caleb and Zayne get Competitive, Poly-ish, MC is a little Shit, Porn with Plot, Double Penetration AN: Check out all of my works on AO3! -> | link

🔞NSFW content - Minors DNI🔞 Dividers: @cafekitsune Fic: @moongirlcleo

After a long day of hunting—and a doctor’s appointment you were definitely late to—you barely have time to kick off your boots before walking straight into a storm: Caleb’s jealousy. One rescheduled date, one harmless visit to Dr. Zayne, and suddenly, you’re the grand prize in a competition you didn’t even sign up for.

What starts as a little petty jealousy spirals into a full-blown rivalry, and before you know it, they’re both set on proving exactly who knows how to take care of you best. Spoiler alert: they’re both very, very competitive.

“Your appointment was scheduled for 2:30 today, were you aware of that?” The receptionist at the desk of Akso Hospital said, barely looking up from the computer screen. Her plaited hair curled around her face from under the bonnet on top of her head, giving her a worn but stern look.

With a wince, you nodded.

“Er, yeah… I apologize, but I was working and I had an assignment run late.” You wrung your hands in embarrassment, hoping the receptionist would understand. After all, being a Deepspace Hunter wasn’t exactly your typical nine to five.

The receptionist gave you a withering look, causing the apples of your cheeks to burn with heat. She typed something onto her document and nodded toward a small cluster of chairs.

“You can wait over there. The practitioner will call your name when they’re ready for you.”

With a small sigh, you retreated toward the waiting ward, mulling over the previous assignment that had held your schedule up.

Wanderers had been attacking areas of Linkon City in droves lately, keeping all hunters busier than usual. So much so, that you had barely even seen your own partner, Xavier, in weeks. The sheer amount of protocores being turned into the association backlogged the systems, making paperwork become an even bigger nightmare too.

“Ms. L/n?”

Looking up from your hands, you saw a practitioner holding a chart, looking toward you. With a short nod, you stood up and followed the young man as he rattled off a grocery list of questions.

Mumbling a reply, you continued to follow him into Dr. Zayne’s examination room. It smelled of sterilized equipment and a fragrance you couldn’t quite place.

The NP guided you toward the examination bed, to which you hoisted yourself on top of. You silently watched as the practitioner took all of your vitals, quietly charting them down for the doctor to assess.

“Alright, Ms. L/n, Dr. Zayne will be along shortly. When you have a moment, please change out of your clothes into this examination robe.” The NP handed you a flimsy paper gown, and with a smile, he retreated from the room.

Once the door clicked shut, you began to strip down into bareness, hastily tying the rope around your waist to securely tie the gown down.

Settled, you sat on the bed once more and began flipping through your phone apps to entertain yourself while awaiting the doctor. It seemed like only yesterday that you and Zayne were snot-nosed kids, always hanging out together. With a smile, you remembered one such instance where you and Zayne played hide and seek with Caleb, the latter growing upset at being unable to find you until way later. The memory of your youth was enough to bring tears to your eyes.

“Y/n?” A voice came from behind the door. “May I enter?”

“Y-yes!” you called back. “I’m decent.”

The door opened and Dr. Zayne appeared, looking handsome as ever. He gave you a serene smile and picked up the chart on the counter.

“So,” he began, flipping through the papers. “Looks like you’ve been overexerting yourself again, haven’t you?”

With a sheepish grin, you nodded. “Well, yeah… I mean I’m fine, though, Zayne. Really.”

The doctor gives you a stern look, jaw set. “Y/n, I mean it. You know you’re not supposed to push yourself, else your heart co—”

“I know, Zayne,” you snapped at him. “But I can’t let that stop me from doing my job and protecting the people around Linkon.”

Zayne’s eyes softened as he looked over you. “I know you want to save people. But you can’t do that if you’re dead. I mean it, please try not to overexert yourself.”

Zayne sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he set your chart aside. “You always do this, n/n” he muttered, voice softening, though the frustration remained, laced with something unspoken. Something you didn’t want to name.

You blinked, thrown off for just a second. It had been years since he called you a nickname—since the days when scraped knees and childhood dares were your biggest worries. You shifted on the exam bed, folding your arms over your chest like a shield. “And you always worry too much,” you muttered.

Zayne exhaled, shaking his head. “Someone has to.”

A silence stretched between you, thick with familiarity, with the weight of history neither of you addressed. His gaze flickered over you, assessing, as if he could see past the mask of easy confidence you wore. For a moment, you thought he might say something more, something that would break the careful distance you’d kept.

But then his communicator beeped, the sterile air of the examination room shifting back to reality. You let out a small breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, taking the opportunity to hop off the table, your movements brisk, determined.

"Promise me you’ll at least consider taking a break," he said, quieter this time.

You hesitated, fingers ghosting over the knot of the paper gown before you forced a grin. "No promises, doc."

Zayne watched you go, jaw set, the worry never leaving his eyes.

The afternoon air was crisp as you stepped out of Akso Hospital, the scent of antiseptic replaced by the damp, metallic tang of the city. Sunlight glared off the polished streets, casting long shadows as you made your way to your vehicle—a sleek black hoverbike stationed in the parking dock. You ran a hand through your hair, exhaling as you swung one leg over the seat and keyed in the ignition.

The quiet hum of the engine filled the silence, but your mind wasn’t so easily drowned out.

Zayne’s voice still lingered, edged with concern, the ghost of his words brushing against your thoughts like a whisper from another time. You knew he meant well, that he had every reason to be worried, but slowing down wasn’t an option. Not when the city was crawling with Wanderers. Not when Xavier had been out in the field for weeks without so much as a check-in.

Not when you were already late.

Your eyes flicked to the clock on the dashboard—an angry red 3:37 PM blinking back at you.

“Shit.”

You revved the bike, the thrusters lifting you effortlessly above the streets of Linkon City. Buildings blurred past in streaks of neon and chrome, the hum of traffic and distant sirens becoming nothing more than background noise. Caleb was waiting. He hated when you were late—though he’d never say it outright, not in so many words. But you knew. You always knew.

He worried, too, though in his own quiet way.

Your grip on the handles tightened as you wove through the lanes of air traffic, mind cycling through a dozen excuses. The job ran late. Zayne held you up. It wasn’t entirely a lie, but something about the thought of Caleb’s knowing stare made your stomach twist with guilt.

You’d make it up to him.

You cut a sharp turn, your apartment complex coming into view, its glass windows reflecting the golden afternoon light. Your fingers tapped absently against the throttle, your heart still hammering from the weight of the day.

Late. Again.

Would Caleb still be waiting? Or had you let another person down today?

You barely had time to kill the engine before the apartment door swung open. Caleb stood in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes sharp and unreadable beneath the warm afternoon glow filtering in from the window behind him.

You could tell immediately—he knew.

“You’re late,” he said, voice deceptively even.

You sighed, tugging your helmet off and running a hand through your wind-blown hair. “I know. I—”

“Had an ‘assignment run late’? Or did Zayne hold you up?”

The way he said the name—clipped, pointed—sent a prickle of irritation down your spine. You unzipped your jacket, tossing it over the back of the couch as you stepped inside, leveling him with a tired look. “Caleb.”

“What?” He pushed off the doorframe, shutting it behind you with a quiet click. “Just curious how long I was supposed to wait before you finally decided to show up.”

You rolled your eyes. “It was a doctor’s appointment. Not a date.”

His jaw tightened. “Didn’t look that way from what I heard.”

Your breath hitched for half a second. He had heard something.

“Who told you?” you asked, wary.

Caleb scoffed. “Does it matter?”

Yes, it did. But that wasn’t the fight you were having right now.

You exhaled, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Caleb, I didn’t plan on seeing him today. I had to go, I got chewed out, end of story.”

He took a slow step closer, eyes flicking over you, searching. “Chewed out?” His voice lowered, tone almost taunting. “So he was worried about you.”

Your lips pressed into a firm line. “That’s his job.”

Caleb let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Right. His job. Funny, because last I checked, I’m the one who actually has to patch you up when you push yourself too hard.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Make this a competition.”

His gaze darkened, something possessive flickering behind his eyes. “I don’t have to make it one.”

Silence stretched between you, thick, charged. You should be annoyed. You were annoyed. But the heat in his stare, the sharp edge in his voice, sent something else curling in your chest.

Still, you wouldn’t let him get away with it.

“You know,” you said, tilting your head, voice deceptively light. “For someone who isn’t making this a competition, you sure seem jealous.”

Caleb’s jaw tensed, but you didn’t miss the flicker of something else—something unguarded—before he masked it behind a smirk.

“I’m not jealous,” he muttered, stepping back.

You arched a brow. “Uh-huh.”

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “Forget it. You’re here now. Just… try not to keep me waiting next time.”

You studied him for a beat longer, then let out a quiet chuckle. “Alright, alright. I’ll make it up to you.”

Caleb glanced at you from the corner of his eye, skepticism still lingering in his expression. “Yeah? How?”

You grinned, tossing your helmet onto the couch. “I’ll figure something out.”

The tension didn’t fully dissipate, but for now, it was enough.

Caleb didn’t move right away. Instead, he watched you with that sharp, unreadable gaze, the smirk from earlier fading into something heavier. Something darker.

You barely had time to process it before he took a step forward—then another—until the space between you had all but disappeared.

“Caleb…” you started, voice caught somewhere between exasperation and warning.

But he wasn’t listening. His fingers brushed against your waist, slow, deliberate, tracing the fabric of your shirt as if mapping the shape of you.

“You think this is funny?” His voice had dropped lower, smoother, his breath warm against your skin as he leaned in—so close, you could feel the heat radiating from him.

You swallowed, but you refused to be the one to step back. “I think you’re being ridiculous.”

His lips quirked at that, but his eyes remained intense, smoldering. “Ridiculous, huh?”

His fingers flexed against your waist, grip tightening just enough to make your pulse spike. He wasn’t just annoyed anymore—he wanted to prove something. To remind you who you belonged to.

“Caleb,” you murmured, pulse thrumming under the skin of your throat.

“Tell me, baby.” His voice was pure velvet, thick with unspoken intent. “If I kissed you right now, would you still think I was being ridiculous?”

Your breath hitched.

He was playing dirty.

Your pride screamed at you to keep the upper hand, to smirk and brush him off like this wasn’t affecting you. But your body betrayed you, heart hammering against your ribs, a traitorous warmth pooling in your stomach at the way he was looking at you—like you were his.

And damn it, maybe you were.

Before you could form a retort, he tilted his head, nose grazing yours, the faintest ghost of a touch against your lips—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sound shattered the moment like glass.

Caleb went still, his body tense with frustration, his jaw ticking like he was barely holding back a curse. You blinked, mind still fogged over as you registered the sound.

Another knock.

Caleb exhaled sharply, his hands leaving your body with obvious reluctance. His head fell forward slightly, his lips brushing your ear as he muttered a single word, voice dark with irritation—

“Unbelievable.”

You, still caught between flustered and amused, barely had time to compose yourself before—

“Y/n?”

That voice.

Your stomach dropped.

Caleb’s entire body stiffened, his grip tightening into fists at his sides.

Zayne.

You pulled away, clearing your throat as you straightened your clothes, ignoring the heated look Caleb shot toward the door.

“Uh—one second!” you called, hoping your voice sounded normal.

Caleb let out a low growl, raking a hand through his hair before turning toward the door, murder in his eyes. “Of course it’s him.”

You shot him a warning look, but he only leaned against the couch, arms crossed, a smirk playing at his lips. “Go ahead, pipsqueak. Let Doctor Perfect in.”

Oh, he was so not letting this go.

Taking a breath to steady yourself, you unlocked the door—only to be met with Zayne’s calm, knowing gaze.

And just like that, the tension in the room shifted again.

You barely had time to school your expression before Zayne’s eyes flickered over you, sharp and assessing. He was calm—too calm—the kind of composed that sent a prickle of unease down your spine.

“Hey,” you said, leaning against the doorframe, hoping you didn’t look as flustered as you felt. “Didn’t think I’d be seeing you again so soon.”

Zayne’s gaze lingered on you a beat too long before he lifted an eyebrow. “You didn’t answer my messages.”

You blinked, stomach twisting as you glanced at your phone—still sitting on the couch, untouched. Damn it.

Before you could respond, a slow, almost too satisfied voice cut in from behind you.

“She was a little… busy.”

You closed your eyes briefly, bracing yourself before turning.

Caleb leaned against the back of the couch, arms still crossed, a smirk playing at his lips—relaxed, easy, deliberate. Like he wanted Zayne to see.

Zayne’s posture didn’t shift, but you caught the flicker of tension in his jaw.

“I see,” he said smoothly, though there was something clipped underneath his tone. His gaze moved between the two of you, his lips pressing into a firm line before he turned his attention back to you. “I needed to check in. You left the hospital in a hurry.”

“She’s fine,” Caleb interjected before you could answer, pushing off the couch and strolling toward you. He stopped just close enough that Zayne had to either stand his ground or step back.

Zayne didn’t move.

You sighed, muttering, “I was going to say that myself,” throwing Caleb a look.

Caleb just gave you an innocent shrug. “Just savin’ you the trouble.”

Zayne’s expression didn’t so much as flicker. “Right.” He turned his full attention back to you, clearly choosing to ignore Caleb’s presence. “You should be fine, but I meant it when I said you need to ease up. If you keep pushing yourself—”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Caleb cut in again, voice lazy, but his eyes gleamed with something sharp. “I make sure she gets plenty of rest.”

Zayne’s jaw did tick this time, and you swore you felt the air in the room drop a degree.

Okay, enough.

You stepped between them, pressing a hand against Caleb’s chest to physically keep him from leaning any closer. “Okay, that’s enough out of you,” you muttered before looking at Zayne. “And I’m fine, I promise.”

Zayne’s gaze flickered down to your hand against Caleb’s chest before meeting your eyes again. “You said that last time.”

You huffed. “I mean it.”

Zayne studied you for a long moment before exhaling, rubbing a hand down his face. “Fine.” But the tension in his shoulders didn’t ease.

Caleb, sensing victory, let his smirk widen. “See? She means it, Doc. You can go now.”

Zayne’s eyes snapped toward him, sharp as a blade, but instead of biting back, he exhaled and turned to you. “I’ll check in later.”

The moment he stepped back toward the door, Caleb slung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in just close enough that Zayne had to notice.

“Looking forward to it,” Caleb said, his tone all mockery and satisfaction.

Zayne’s eyes met yours one last time, and for a split second, you thought you saw something—something that wasn’t anger, wasn’t frustration, but something deeper.

He didn’t leave.

His fingers twitched at his side, his jaw set like he was debating something internally, but his feet stayed firmly planted. He wasn’t going to give Caleb the satisfaction of walking out first.

You felt the shift immediately. The charged air between them thickened, tension rolling through the room like an oncoming storm.

Caleb, always one to push, leaned further into your space, his arm still draped lazily around your shoulders. “Something wrong, Doctor?” he drawled, voice rich with amusement.

Zayne exhaled through his nose, but there was something measured in his expression, something controlled. “I just want to make sure she is actually taking care of herself,” he said, tone neutral. “Not being… distracted.”

Caleb let out a low chuckle, the kind that sent a shiver down your spine. “Oh, I make sure she’s taken care of. Every. Single. Day.” His fingers brushed against your arm as he spoke, slow and deliberate, just enough to make a point.

Zayne’s eyes darkened.

You let out an exasperated sigh, stepping forward to put some space between them before they started circling each other like predators. “Okay, that’s enough of whatever this is,” you muttered, rubbing your temples.

“This?” Caleb grinned. “Come on, pipsqueak, don’t act like you don’t enjoy a little attention.”

Zayne scoffed. “She doesn’t need this kind of attention. She needs rest.”

“Yeah?” Caleb mused, tilting his head. “And I bet you’d love to be the one to give it to her, wouldn’t you?”

Zayne’s jaw flexed.

You, caught between them, felt like you were standing at the edge of something dangerous—something thrilling. Caleb had always been possessive, but Zayne? Zayne was different. He was steady, rational, someone who thought things through.

But not right now.

Right now, he was pushing back.

Zayne took a step closer, his voice quieter but no less intense. “I care about her well-being.” His eyes locked onto Caleb’s. “That’s more than I can say for you.”

Caleb’s smirk widened, but his grip on your waist tightened. “That so?” His gaze flicked to you, hooded, deliberate. “What do you think, baby?”

Your breath caught.

You were so not getting in the middle of this.

Or maybe… you already were.

Zayne watched you carefully, the weight of his stare almost suffocating. Caleb’s fingers traced lazy circles against your hip, his expression smug, knowing.

Heat curled low in your stomach.

Damn them both.

You could play coy, pretend this was nothing more than a pissing contest. Or you could really test them.

You tilted your head, feigning thoughtfulness. “I think…” you dragged out, shifting slightly so Caleb’s grip adjusted and Zayne’s focus sharpened, “...this is pointless.”

Caleb chuckled. “Come on, pipsqueak. You love when we fight over you.”

Zayne exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not fighting over her.”

Caleb’s brows shot up. “No? Could’ve fooled me.”

You huffed, but your lips twitched. “I think I need a drink.”

Before either of them could argue, you slipped out from Caleb’s hold, brushing past Zayne on your way to the kitchen. You felt both of them watch you go, their attention a tangible weight pressing into your back.

This was dangerous.

This was reckless.

And yet, as you poured yourself a glass of wine with slightly unsteady fingers, you couldn't shake the realization:

You liked it.

You took a slow sip of your wine, savoring the quiet moment—if only to let the tension stretch a little further, tighten just enough before you snapped it.

Behind you, you could still feel their stares, the weight of them pressing into you like a tangible force. Caleb was undoubtedly grinning, waiting for you to react, waiting for you to play his game. And Zayne? Zayne was still convincing himself that he wasn’t in this game.

You smirked against the rim of your glass. That wouldn’t last long.

Turning on your heel, you leaned against the counter, tilting your head as you let your gaze flicker between them, slow, considering.

“So,” you said, swirling your glass between your fingers. “You two seem pretty convinced you know what’s best for me.”

Caleb arched a brow, crossing his arms. “That a problem, pipsqueak?”

Zayne’s expression remained unreadable, but his eyes sharpened. “We just don’t want you overworking yourself.”

You hummed. “Right. So which one of you actually plans to do something about it?”

That got their attention.

Caleb’s grin widened, a lazy, dangerous thing. “Oh, I like where this is going.”

Zayne, ever the rational one, exhaled. “Y/n.”

You shrugged, setting your glass down and stepping forward, close enough that they both had to take notice. “You both keep telling me you’re looking out for me, that I need to rest, that I should take care of myself.” You glanced up at Caleb, then at Zayne, letting the air between you all thrum with expectation. “So prove it.”

Caleb was already on board, eyes glinting with interest. He stepped in first, fingers brushing the inside of your wrist as he smirked down at you. “You know I don’t back down from a challenge, pipsqueak.”

You met his gaze, pulse ticking faster as you turned to Zayne, who was watching the exchange with something unreadable in his expression—something deep, something restrained.

You smiled, slow and knowing. “And you, Zayne?”

For a second, he didn’t move. But then—deliberately, purposefully—he reached out, trailing his fingers down your other arm, his touch featherlight but deliberate. “If you want me to prove something,” he murmured, voice low, “then I will.”

Your breath caught.

Oh.

This was happening.

Caleb chuckled, dark amusement rolling off him as he leaned in closer, the heat of his body radiating against yours. “Guess the real question is…” His fingers ghosted over your waist, teasing. “Who makes you feel better, pipsqueak?”

Zayne’s hand flexed subtly against your arm, his touch grounding, steady, intentional. “Tell us what you need.”

A slow, sharp thrill curled down your spine.

This wasn’t just them competing.

This was them laying it at your feet.

And you were going to take it.

Your smirk deepened as you glanced between them, heat curling through your veins. Oh, this was going to be fun.

You let out a slow breath, drawing out the tension as you trailed your fingers up Caleb’s chest, then turned and let your other hand slide along Zayne’s forearm. A test. A challenge.

“Well,” you mused, voice smooth as silk. “You both seem confident.” You tilted your head, gaze flickering with amusement. “But confidence doesn’t mean much without action, does it?”

Caleb’s grip tightened at your waist, his smirk widening. “Careful, pipsqueak. You know I love a dare.”

Zayne exhaled through his nose, steady but watching you, eyes hooded. “You shouldn’t play games you don’t want to win.”

You chuckled, slow and sweet. “Oh, but I do want to win.”

Caleb hummed low in his throat, his fingers grazing up your spine. “Then let’s play.”

And just like that, they did.

Caleb was the first to move—of course he was. He was reckless, fast, the one who always pushed boundaries first. His hands slid lower, gripping your hips just enough to make you suck in a breath, lips brushing your ear.

“You’re tense,” he murmured, voice dripping with amusement. “That little appointment stress you out, baby?”

You huffed, but before you could snap back, Zayne was already countering—his touch different, slower, methodical. His fingers traced up the back of your neck, barely there, teasing warmth spreading through you as he leaned in from the other side.

“You’re avoiding the question,” he said, voice dipping into something quieter, something that sent a shiver down your spine. “What do you need?”

Damn them both.

Your pulse thrummed as you swallowed, eyes flicking between them. They were the ones in competition, and yet here you were, caught in their little storm, heat rising in your cheeks, breath coming in shorter, sharper.

You had to regain control.

So you smirked and pulled back just slightly, dragging your hands down their arms as you stepped out of their space. Not a rejection—just a tease, a taunt.

“Honestly?” you mused, letting your fingers toy with the hem of your shirt, playful. “I’m still waiting for one of you to impress me with your little game.”

Caleb let out a low growl of approval, shaking his head. “Oh, you like pushing your luck, don’t you?”

Zayne, ever composed, rolled his shoulders back, gaze dark with something unreadable. “Careful,” he warned, though there was no real threat behind it. Only a promise.

You leaned against the counter, tilting your head. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Caleb moved first—again—grabbing your wrist and yanking you flush against him. Your breath caught, but you refused to falter, your hands landing against his shoulders as he smirked down at you.

“I don’t think you understand, pipsqueak,” he murmured, fingers tracing the line of your jaw. “You are the game.”

Before you could bite back a response, Zayne was there—his presence grounding, solid, but no less demanding. His fingers curled beneath your chin, tilting your head slightly so you had no choice but to look at him.

“Then we’ll just have to see,” he murmured, voice smooth as silk, “who wins.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

Oh, hell.

Before you could even think of responding, Caleb’s lips were on your neck, open-mouthed, hot, his fingers gripping your waist just enough to make you feel him, to know exactly how much he wanted this.

And then—Zayne’s fingers trailed up your throat, tilting your head further as his lips hovered just over yours, not kissing you, not yet, but so damn close you thought you might lose your mind.

“You wanted to be taken care of, didn’t you?” Zayne murmured against your lips, voice a phantom touch.

Caleb chuckled against your skin, biting down just enough to make you gasp.

And just like that— the last shred of control snapped like a live wire.

Caleb, always the one who acted before thinking, always the one who wanted to leave a mark. His teeth scraped against the soft skin of your neck before he soothed it with his tongue, his grip tightening on your waist as if daring you to pull away.

But you wouldn’t.

Not when Zayne was still there, fingers tilting your chin, controlling the angle of your head, his breath hot against your lips. “You wanted to play,” he murmured, his voice lower now, thick with something darker. “Are you ready for the consequences?”

You barely had time to suck in a breath before Zayne finally closed the distance, his lips slanting over yours, slow but claiming, the kind of kiss that swallowed you whole. Where Caleb was fire, Zayne was an ocean, pulling you under with the sheer weight of his control.

You barely registered Caleb’s growl of amusement before his hands slid beneath your thighs.

“Up, pipsqueak.”

Before you could argue, he lifted you, strong and easy, and you yelped as he set you on the counter, your legs instinctively parting as he stepped between them.

Zayne barely moved from his spot, standing beside you, watching the way Caleb’s hands slid over your thighs, the way you instinctively leaned into the touch. But when you turned to meet his gaze, something dangerous flickered in his eyes—something restrained, like he was holding himself back just enough to let Caleb get away with it.

For now.

“Jealous, doc?” Caleb teased, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, testing.

Zayne hummed, rolling his sleeves up, eyes never leaving yours. “Not at all.”

Then he leaned in, ghosting his lips over the shell of your ear. “You know how patient I can be.”

You shivered.

Caleb chuckled darkly. “Yeah? Let’s see how long that lasts.”

Then his mouth was on you, lips searing as he kissed you like he wanted to burn himself into your skin. His hands roamed, fingers digging into your thighs as he pulled you closer, your body flush against his.

You moaned against his lips, but before you could lose yourself entirely, Zayne was there again—his fingers sliding up your arm, up your neck, threading through your hair as he pulled you away from Caleb and back into him.

His mouth met yours again, this time rougher, more demanding, as if he was reclaiming his space in this game.

Caleb let out a low, satisfied hum. “There’s that competitive side.”

You barely had time to process the heat in Zayne’s gaze before Caleb’s hands were sliding beneath your shirt, fingertips ghosting up your back, making you arch against him.

“I think,” Caleb murmured against your throat, “we should see just how much she can take.”

Zayne smirked against your lips. “Agreed.”

Caleb nudged you to the edge of the counter, fingers making quick work of your zipper. Beside you, Zayne watched, his expression carefully unreadable—but you could see the tension in his posture, the way his jaw clenched just slightly.

The glint in Caleb’s eye was unmistakable as he slowly peeled your pants down, his fingers dragging against your heated skin. A lazy grin spread across his lips as a flush crept up your cheeks.

“What a perfect spread you’ve got for me,” he murmured, licking his lips.

Zayne exhaled sharply, unimpressed. “If you’re just going to tease her, step aside so a real man can do the job.”

Caleb shot him a glare. “And what, you think that’s you? Come on, doc. Even as kids, you couldn’t take care of her like I could.”

Without another word, he hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties, sliding them down in one smooth motion. The way both men stared at you—hungry, reverent—sent a fresh wave of heat pooling between your thighs.

Then, slow as a hunter stalking prey, Caleb sank to his knees, lips ghosting over your inner thigh before his tongue swiped a deliberate path over your heat. The precise movement made you exhale shakily, your eyes fluttering shut—until a warm hand caught your chin.

Zayne.

He captured your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your soft whimpers as Caleb’s mouth worked between your legs, devouring you like a man starved.

You barely had time to register the way Caleb groaned against you, completely lost in the taste of you, before he pulled back just enough to smirk up at you. His lips glistened, his breath warm against your core.

“Pipsqueak, we’re moving this to the couch.”

Before you could respond, Zayne stepped in, effortlessly lifting you off the counter and turning you over in one fluid motion. Your stomach pressed against the cool surface, your ass high in the air, as he smoothed a hand down your spine.

“No, we’re not,” he murmured. “I’m taking her right here. Feel free to watch, Colonel.”

Caleb huffed a laugh, but there was an edge to it. He stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he eyed the doctor with barely contained irritation. “You always gotta be first, huh?”

Zayne ignored him, too focused on the way your body trembled in anticipation beneath him. His zipper slid down, the sound sharp in the quiet tension of the room.

Caleb scoffed at the sight of him stroking his thick length, precum already beading at the tip. “I’m bigger.”

Zayne didn’t dignify him with a response, instead lining himself up against your slick entrance. His breath was hot against your shoulder as he murmured, “Can I move?”

“Yes,” you whispered, then, remembering your audience, “But turn me to face Caleb.”

Caleb’s eyes darkened with interest as Zayne shifted you, allowing you to brace yourself against the counter while still facing the other man. The doctor’s first thrust was slow, deliberate, stretching you open inch by inch, pulling a broken moan from your lips.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Zayne breathed, his voice shaking with restraint. “You feel incredible. Even better than I imagined.”

Caleb barked a laugh, stepping closer. “So you have fantasized about her, doc.” His fingers tucked under your chin, tilting your face up toward him. “Not gonna lie, pipsqueak, as much as I hate that he’s fucking you first, you look damn good split apart on a cock.”

Your breath hitched as Zayne’s pace quickened, each thrust hitting that perfect spot inside you. Your hands reached for Caleb’s waistband, already desperate to feel him too.

“I bet you wish it was you inside her right now, don’t you, Caleb?” Zayne grunted, hips snapping forward.

Caleb smirked, shoving his pants down and letting his thick length spring free. “Oh, I know I will be soon. Right, pipsqueak?”

Ignoring his words, you leaned forward, taking him into your mouth. The weight and heat of him sent a fresh wave of arousal through you, especially when he hissed at the flick of your tongue.

“Fuck,” Caleb panted, fingers threading through your hair. “I mean it, though. I need to fuck you too.”

Zayne groaned behind you, his thrusts growing erratic. “Then do it now, before I lose control.” His grip on your hips tightened. “I want to make her come before either of us do.”

Caleb glanced down at you, his eyes heavy-lidded, waiting for your answer. The air in the room was thick with tension, anticipation crackling between all three of you.

You swallowed around Caleb’s cock, then pulled back just enough to murmur, “Let’s make it work, then.”

Zayne paused, considering. “If you turn toward me, Caleb can—”

“No,” Caleb interrupted, voice firm. “You had your turn with her pussy. It’s my turn. You take her ass.”

Zayne pinched the bridge of his nose. “How about we let her decide?”

Two sets of eyes turned to you, heated and waiting.

You licked your lips, then smirked. “I am feeling a little needy… and I do think I want to feel Caleb.”

Caleb’s smirk was pure satisfaction as he reached for you, cradling you against his chest. Zayne schooled his features into something unreadable, but there was a flicker of something darker in his eyes as he pulled out and let you step toward Caleb.

“Come here, Y/N,” Caleb murmured, guiding you toward the couch. Zayne followed, his gaze heavy on your back.

Caleb sank onto the cushions, signaling you to straddle him. “Here’s how we do this. You ride me, and doc takes you from behind. You remember your safe word, yeah?”

Your heart pounded, excitement thrumming through you as you nodded. “Got it.”

You sank down onto Caleb’s cock, the stretch making your head fall back as he groaned, his hands gripping your hips. 

 “Fuck, you’re perfect,” he muttered.

Zayne, behind you, let out a slow breath. “She is.” His hands traced down your spine, soothing. “I’m going to put it in, alright? Let me know if it’s too much.”

You braced yourself as he pressed against your tight entrance, the sensation overwhelming in the best way.

“Should I stop?” Zayne asked, voice tight.

You shook your head, body thrumming with overstimulation. “No—just… keep going.”

Caleb kissed your throat, murmuring, ���That’s my girl. You can take it, can’t you?”

Zayne gave a rare smirk. “Alright.” He pushed in fully, the stretch making both men groan at the tightness. Caleb’s grip on your hips tightened as he buried himself deeper.

“Holy fuck,” Caleb breathed.

Zayne exhaled sharply. “Agreed.”

The room filled with the slick, rhythmic sounds of their thrusts, the heat pooling low in your stomach. Your body trembled between them, caught in the perfect storm of their attention, their need.

“Guys,” you gasped, “I—I’m close.”

Both of them groaned, their own control unraveling.

“Can I come inside you?” Caleb rasped, his voice clipped. “Tell me I can, and I’ll fill you up.”

Zayne, voice low, added, “I won’t last much longer either.”

Your nails dug into Caleb’s shoulders. “I want you both to come inside me.”

That was all it took.

Zayne shuddered as he spilled into you, his grip almost bruising, his breath hot against your shoulder. Caleb wasn’t far behind, groaning into your skin as he pulsed inside you, their releases mixing within you.

The pleasure crashed over you like a tidal wave, body clenching around them as your orgasm ripped through you.

All three of you collapsed in a tangled mess of limbs, panting, your skin humming with satisfaction.

You lay between them, your chest still rising and falling in slow, uneven breaths, your skin humming with the aftershocks of everything you’d just done. The air in the apartment was thick with heat, the kind that clung to your skin, leaving no room for pretense or denial.

Caleb was the first to break the silence, a lazy, satisfied chuckle rolling from deep in his throat as he draped an arm over his forehead. “Damn, pipsqueak,” he murmured, voice rough, spent, but still carrying that unmistakable smugness. “You really know how to keep a man on his toes.”

You exhaled a slow breath, a smirk curling at the edges of your lips. “I’d say the same for you.”

Zayne, ever composed, ran a hand through his tousled hair, the sharp control he always carried just barely slipping at the edges. He turned his head, gaze flickering over you, assessing, lingering. Then, without a word, he reached out, fingers brushing lightly down the curve of your waist—soft, reverent, a quiet claim. “Are you alright?”

You hummed, stretching slightly, feeling the delicious ache in your limbs. “More than alright.”

Caleb huffed a laugh, rolling onto his side, propping his head up with one hand as he trailed lazy fingers down your stomach, teasing. “So… who won?”

You bit your lip, flicking your gaze between the two of them—Caleb’s ever-present smirk, Zayne’s sharp, expectant stare. You let the silence stretch, relishing in their anticipation, in the way they both waited for your answer.

Then, you grinned. “Pipsqueak,” you echoed Caleb’s earlier words, sing-song voice dripping with amusement, “this was just round one.”

Caleb’s laughter rumbled through his chest as he tugged you closer, pressing a final kiss to your shoulder. “Cocky little thing.”

Zayne exhaled sharply, shaking his head, but there was something dangerous glinting in his eyes. He brushed his knuckles down your jaw, slow, intentional. “Next time,” he murmured, voice low with quiet promise, “I won’t be as patient.”

His words caused you to shiver. 

Oh. This was far from over.

[nanivinsmoke]

Back Seat

he got my pussy purring my lord.

detective!Shiu x detective!Fem reader

summary : when a stakeout with your partner becomes too big for you to handle.

warnings and tags : car sex, cream pie, rough fucking, cigarette kiss, dangerous sex (mid-mission), squirting, overstimulation, creaming.

“mmm. we’re going to get caught~” you giggled, a moan slipping out while he kissed your neck, tickling your sweet spot.

“by who? we’re just here to scope out for the client. if something happens, we’ll deal with it. mmm you smell good” shiu reassured you, taking in your scent while he kissed you some more. you couldn’t fight it anymore and stopped worrying about what could possibly happen, you were in need of some good dick—and your partner was gonna give it to you.

the two of you weren’t usually partners, you were usually paired up with another senior detective; toji, but today your captain put the two of you together. the two of you were very competitive with each other, being that you both were the top detectives in the precinct. maintaining good relationships with the clients and other precincts. however, with good competition comes tension and there was a whole lot with the two of you.

“take these off.” shiu tugged at your panties, his hands found their way underneath your skirt. you shivered, his tone so sensual and his voice so deep; he was turning you on so fast. you quickly did as he said and pulled them down your thighs, tossing them on the other side of the van; before propping your heeled legs up onto the passenger and driver’s seat—cunt at his eye level.

he ogled at the sight of your cunt that glistened with your pearlescent slick, ready for him. with a wink, he dove done in between your legs; gripping the plushy skin of your thighs—before making a meal out of your pussy.

“oh fuck!~” your short manicure clung to his black tresses, back arching off of the ships control panel. the way he was sucking on your clit with enough force to make your toes clench and your eyes roll back into your head, was mind boggling.

“s-so good~” a soft praise left your lips, hips rolling against his slightly stubbled face. his tongue worked wonders, slurping up your precum that dripped out—before he introduced his thick fingers into the mix. he stretched your cunt, swirling himself again your soft gummy walls; making you moan out even louder.

the sweet, sexy noises you were making turned him on, he could feel himself rising in his black suit pants; but he was going to ignore that feeling until he could make you cum. curses flew out of your mouth when that warm feeling in the pit of your stomach was rising and he could feel how fast you were clenching around his fingers. shiu curved his two fingers upwards, in a hook like manner, and massaged your spot; earning your orgasm.

“shiu. shiu. shiu! fuckkk!” you sputtered his name out as you came, tugging on his hair a little harder than before. your cum tasted so sweet, he couldn’t help himself but to keep sucking and lapping up all of your juices, overstimulating you and causing a another orgasm to erupt out of you.

when he finally emerged from his spot between your legs, his mustache glistened with your slick and his mouth was wet; causing you to blush at how wet you were. his eyes were low and lidded, he fell in love with how you tasted and he craved more from you. you reached over and palmed his erection through his pants, locking eyes with his and never breaking contact.

“teasing me is gonna get you in trouble”

“im a big girl, i can handle it~.” you purred and you could feel him jump in his pants. you pulled his zipper down and he pulled down the rest of his clothes, revealing his precum coated cock. he gripped his girth and stroked himself, while you eyed it hungrily. “no condoms, just fuck me….please!”

hearing your plea, he slapped his tip on your second set of lips; mixing your cum with his pre—before pushing himself inside, your soft gummy like walls enveloping around him. he tossed his head back, when he pushed himself all the way in; making you moan out in response. you took him so well, he fit inside of you like a puzzle piece.

“shiu you—f-fuck!” he caught you off guard when he slammed his hips into you, giving you another stroke of his cock. he did this some more, making you bite your lip each time he filled you up—his pace becoming faster. soon, your toes were curling once again and you were starting to cream around his cock.

shiu said nothing while he fucked you, too lost in how good your pussy felt and how sexy you looked as your face started to look fucked out. he reached up and thumbed your lips, pushing his right thumb inside of your mouth; making you suck on his finger.

this was such a turn on for you, your cunt became wetter by the second; drenching his cock with your fluids. you looked so fucked out with your eyes rolled back while he slutted you out.

each time he rammed into you, your ass slammed down on the controls to the van, causing the cloaking device to be turned on and off repeatedly. “so. fucking. tight—need this pussy every day.” shiu said each time he stroked in and out of you, hesitating each time he pulls out so he wouldn’t cum so quickly.

he moved his finger from your mouth, making you whimper but your eyes quickly bulged when he grabbed your head; pushing himself in deeper. his mushroom kissed your cervix, he was so deep. “watch while daddy fucks you. ooh look at how creamy you got” you looked down at how his cock was coated in a nice shade of white, which caked up each time he pushed himself inside.

each time he re-entered you, you were closer to your orgasm and he knew it too. however, you wouldn’t be cumming anytime soon because your van was now spotted by the group of curses you were scouting out for the clients and the two of you would have to deal with it. usually curse detectives wouldn’t handle exterminating curses, they would leave that up to the clients that commissioned for the job, however today was different.

the van entered lock down mode while the two of you got dressed again, both of you were pissed of that your nuts got interrupted. as the sliding door opened, shiu pulled his jacket on and you buttoned up the last button to your white cotton shirt.

“if I get a single speck of cursed blood on this blouse, im going to raise hell from now until next week.”

“whatever princess, just make sure you get rid of them all and don’t break a nail” shiu teased.

—————————

you plopped down, sitting on the inside of the van, breathless and in dire need to be distressed. your shirt was tattered and your hair was a mess, while shiu’s suit jacket was torn to pieces—only his right arm was still attached to him.

“please tell me you got one? I don’t usually smoke, but right now, I need one” you inquired about a cigarette, your voice shaky earning a chuckle from kong. he pulled out his box and you reached over and put it to your mouth. he pulled his lighter out of his pants pocket and lit his cigarette, “damn, i don’t have a light—wait, c’mere.” you motioned over to him, bring your mouth and cigarette closer to his; allowing the butt of his cig to meet yours.

you stayed like that for a while, both of your bodies closer to one another’s; radiating heat, until your cigarette was lit. you pulled back and puffed out some smoke; sighing as you slowly began to let your stress go.

“damn…” shiu whispered, reacting to what just happened. that was the sexiest thing to ever happen to him and from that action alone he was harder than ever. he took one good look at you as you puffed on your tobacco filled stick, all messy and worn out from your fight, and he couldn’t stop himself from pulling you into a deep kiss.

PLAP. PLAP. PLAP. PLAP.

squelch. squelch. sq—

“oh fuck! too fucking big shiu—oh my god~!” you moaned out as he drilled you from the back, your pants and panties tossed in the backseat of the van; while you kneeled and took his dick like a good girl.

“i know, but look…your taking me so well, doll” his nickname for you made you even weaker in the knees than you already were. he was pounding you so well, you couldn’t stop the orgasm that ripped through you.

“cumming for me already? mmm, g’na work another one out of you” his big hands gripped and smacked your ass, still stretching out your cunt while you came. an idea popped into his head and with a devious smirk on his face, he pushed his thumb inside of your other hole, catching you by surprise. the painful feeling of your ass being stretched by his thumb, soon became pleasurable as it rested there while he fucked you like a pocket pussy.

the sound and sight of your ass colliding with his pelvis, and his cock being made a mess of; made his balls twinge and he was ready to pump his load into you. reaching underneath you, you used your right hand to fondle his balls, “cum for me daddy, please. i want you to fill me up so much!”

hearing your pleads made it easier for him to let go and empty his seed inside of you. the hard rutting of his hips, which clashed with his finger in your ass, made your orgasm; this time you were squirting.

“shit–make a mess on it” you were stuttering and babbling as you came down from your orgasmic high; and when he finally finished he pulled out of you—his still hard cock laying in between your cheeks, shocking you.

“let’s go somewhere else before we give some curses a show”

[iamhereforfunnzies]

Chapter 2:I wanna be pretty... CONFIDENT

Waking up at 5 a.m. for work—wait. You quit your job.

Huh. It’s weird—you’re free today.

Yawning loudly, you stretch in your My Melody pajamas as you walk down the halls. That’s when you see Damian.

"Disheveled as usual, (Name)," he remarks, his usual glare fixated on you.

God. Your younger brother has always been a thorn in your side, constantly reminding you of how little you contribute to the family. To him, you’re the dead weight—the one who needs to step up and prove their worth. He probably came from some weird cult where family bonding means fighting each other. Dick once told you that eight-year-old Damian tried to prove he was the superior offspring by attempting to immobilize you with a butter knife while you, at twelve, just wanted to give him snacks.

"Yeah, I just woke up," you reply, running a hand through your hair in an attempt to fix it. Then, an idea pops into your head. "Are you free today, Damian? I don’t really have—"

He cuts you off before you can finish. "Why would I waste my time? Honestly, (Name), me, hanging out with you? What would we even do? You can’t even—"

You tune out the rest of his words, staring at him blankly. Right. You still have that habit of asking them to hang out.

"Okay, you made your point." Sighing, you turn away as Damian rolls his eyes and walks in the opposite direction.

So much for that.

A notification pops up on your phone. Glancing at the screen, you see that your class Instagram page mentioned you in a story. "Congrats to (Name) for winning 2nd place in the live painting competition!"

Smiling, you repost it and thank them. Another notification appears—this time, from Bea, your close classmate.

Boba_Lover: Finally, you’re active, bitch! I know you’re gonna say no as usual, but can you skip work and come to Johnson St.? They’re selling figurines and Pop Marts for you to waste your money on. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

Seen

A rush of excitement fills your stomach. Oh my God. Thank you, thank you so much, Bea!

She’s always been persistent, never giving up on inviting you even when you constantly declined. Thank God for her determination.

You smile so hard that you literally jump in the middle of the hallway.

(Name): Okay. Seen

Immediately, your phone is flooded with excited messages—misspelled words, caps lock smashes, and even mentions in the class group chat.

LET'SGOCUTIES: "OMG FIRST TIME FULL ATTENDANCE JUST FOR A HANGOUT." "Academics? No. Overpriced coffee and Ren Fair? YESSS."

You giggle, but then a terrifying realization hits you.

I HAVE NOTHING TO WEAR.

Back in your room, you stare at your closet.

Oh my God. It’s all My Melody-themed.

Pajamas, home clothes, jackets, hats, skirts, pants, shirts—EVERYTHING.

They are so going to think you’re a huge weirdo. No one in your class has ever seen you in anything but the Gotham Prep uniform. This is a disaster.

But you have no choice.

You settle on a white, long, flowy skirt with a tiny, discreet My Melody logo near the hem, a blouse with ribbons inspired by My Melody’s bow, and a checkered My Melody cardigan. Your My Melody bag holds your matching wallet, tissues, hand sanitizer, medicine container, and powder compact.

Staring at yourself in the mirror, you take in your blushed cheeks, soft manga lashes, and glossy lips. Immediately, you start nitpicking—your foundation has too much texture, your concealer didn’t completely hide your eye bags, your glitter is too faint, and your gloss feels too sticky.

Maybe this is a mistake.

Your phone vibrates. Bea.

"(Nickname), I’m waiting at your bus stop! Let’s go together! Maya brought her digicam, Ella brought her camera, so we’re taking so many pics today! AAAHHH I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU! ARE YOU NEAR?"

Her high-pitched excitement instantly calms your nerves.

"I’m heading out. I’ll be there soon."

As your Mary Janes click against the marble floor, you notice Dick, Tim, Jason, Cass, Steph, and Damian sitting on the couch—bickering, laughing, enjoying their time together.

"Everyone here?" Bruce asks.

"Yup, even Jason is here!" Dick grins.

A lump catches in your throat.

You want to stay. You want to be part of this moment.

But no one calls for you. No one asks if you’re staying.

You don’t cry—your lashes will fall off.

With a heavy heart, you leave the manor.

At the bus stop, Bea waves at you.

"(Name), you are such a cutie!" she gushes.

She’s wearing a black tube top, leopard-print flared pants, signature red-bottom heels, and a simple Prada handbag.

"I like your hair," you say, admiring her Ariana Grande-style ponytail.

Her eyes shine. "I love your makeup! It’s so doll-like! Douyin style suits you so well! Love, love the bag! Wait—I have an extra hair tie! Let’s match!"

Before you can protest, she pulls out hair ties, a comb, and hair gel, determined to style you herself.

Johnson St. is lively and chaotic.

Your class is already arguing about something.

When they notice you and Bea, they stop.

"Wow, matching hairstyles but completely different aesthetics!"

People start complimenting you.

A girl you’ve never spoken to before, dressed head to toe in Kuromi-themed attire, smirks at you.

"Wow, you love Kuromi," you comment, eyeing her outfit.

She raises an eyebrow. "You’re one to talk."

Her name is Alex.

You have so much fun.

The day feels too short for this much joy.

At dinner, your classmate Marcus drops a fry.

"Motherfuck—"

"WE ARE AT A FINE DINING RESTAURANT, WATCH YOUR MOUTH!" Bea snaps.

The entire restaurant goes silent.

Then Ethan joins in, "Marcus, why are you even eating fries before the meal—"

"OI, Marcus is just hungry. Does he not have the right to eat?" another classmate argues.

Suddenly, the class is divided into two.

And, unfortunately, you’re caught in the middle.

"(Name), was Marcus in the wrong?" Ethan asks.

You blink. Why me?!

Taking a deep breath, you reply, "Eating before the food is served is acceptable since fries are appetizers."

Marcus fist-pumps.

"However."

He slumps back down.

"It’s rude to curse in a fine dining restaurant. So while I agree with you, Ethan, Marcus can still eat what he wants."

Silence.

Then, applause. THE HELL?!

"Correct, (Name)!"

"That’s the longest you’ve ever talked in front of us!"

"WE NEED MORE PEOPLE LIKE YOU!"

Your face burns with embarrassment. "Sit down! This isn’t something to applaud!"

You get kicked out of the restaurant.

Laughing, Bea pats your shoulder. "Come out more often. This was fun."

Smiling, you nod. "I will."

Looking through your phone in Instagram you can’t help but laugh at all the stories in your classmates account; you never felt so accepted , pretty , funny , wanted , and overall happy. Yeah, you were happy everytime you get your paycheck , when you win awards , when Alfred makes you cookies , when Dick promises of hangouts , when you buy my melody merch , and get your nails done but this is different.

“I feel like a puzzle piece that fits, a star apart of a constellation, an outfit that just makes sense, a question that was answered, I feel fulfilled.”

Tags: @asillysimp @leeiasure

(Name)’s Class:  PSST  PSST PSST

(Name): I am not a cat.

(Name)’s Class: OMGSHETALKECOMEHERECUTIE

If you are overthinking the intentions of the classmates (Name) is like the Muse of the classroom because she is the most nonchalant, no one really bothers her cause everyone assumes she is serious and mature (She is one of the only few people in the class to get a job even though they are in well off school); So many of her classmates admires her work school balanced. Behind (Name)’s back everyone calls her Cutie of the Classroom. If you ask why this class is so close it’s because I headcannoned Gotham Prep as an elite school so only a few students are in the school their year having 3 sections, and because of this they have been the same classmates since elementary. Damian is 12 so 6th grade but takes some advanced classes with (Name) as she is in 11th grade.

[russellsppttemplates]

I want this every day (Charles Leclerc)

Charles has been frustrated with the team's strategies and the results he's been getting lately so you find a way to cheer him up

Note: english is not my first language. I was going to write it earlier on the week, but then I felt like I a jinxing it so I stopped... but after today, I think it's a good place to start...

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions Jules Bianchi

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

Another race weekend where he was out qualified by his team-mate left Charles with the feeling that if it came to it, he was almost one hundred percent sure they would ask them to swap positions.

Points for the team would be important anyway and they came away with a good amount and the car showed to be competitive enough considering the RedBull dominance on the grid, but the frustration was still there.

With the team and with himself.

They told him they'd keep him - there wasn't a quesion put down about his contract -, Il Predestinato wasn't something he carried lightly but often times it was confusing. Without the support and appreciation from inside the team, it was proving difficult to achieve their goals.

His childhood dream was driving for Ferrari and Suzuka always carried a heavier weight for him. As he took off his helmet and was faced with the number 17 on the side, he apoligised. To Jules, who he wanted to make proud every day but even more on this particular track. To his fans, who deserved better than this. To you, who were there for him, arms open for a hug and a shoulder where he could cry and let his feelings out on, to hold him and remind him every single time that all of the nonsense commentators and the media still had the audacity to say about him despite his continous shows of intelligence, skill and talent, and to love him.

The way you loved him was something he had never felt before and had never thought he deserved.

The face you were giving everyone in the garage that dared look at you wasn't unfortunately a rare occurrence, hence the fact that so very few team members approached you, "Charles is just finishing his interviews, he should be here soon", Silvia said before excusing herself from the garage.

You walked to your boyfriend's driver room, knowing he would end up in there soon enough after greeting the mechanics and engineers.

He stepped inside the room less than fifteen minutes later, finding your embrace immediately as his arms wrapped around your waist, "it's not fair that this keeps happening", he mumbled.

"I know it isn't", you kissed his stubbly cheek while rubbing his back soothingly.

"I thought I could've done so much better, for the fans, for you, for Jules", he hiccuped, letting himself be vulnerable after bottling up everything he was feeling.

"You did us proud, Charles - he is always so proud of you", you cupped hisface in your hands as you hoped the words got through to him, "okay?".

The flight back home had Charles sleeping most of the time, the whole rush of the weekend catching up with his body as he slept with his head on your thighs, your fingers playing with his locks while you arranged your schedule for the week ahead.

"I was thinking we could spend some time together today", you said over the phone, hoping he hadn't booked anything since you made sure that Andrea and Joris had cleared his schedule so you could make this happen without a hitch.

"You don't have work?", Charles asked, "no, I arranged a few things and a meeting got cancelled", you explained.

"Good, I don't have anything to do either, I was just going to stay home, but being with you sounds much nicer, my place or your place?", he wondered.

"My place, please", you replied immediately, "I just want to change my clothes and I'm feeling like spending the afternoon in", you tried, hoping he would catch on and not mess up your surprise.

"Okay, amour! Do you need me to pick you up from work?", Charles asked and you heard a small smile on his face. You weren't sure why, but Charles really got a kick out of dropping you off and picking you up from work, so you felt bad for the answer you were giving him, "it's okay, you can meet me there, I'm already walking", you said as you drove out of the shop and headed home. It was an inoffensive lie but you kept telling yourself it was for a greater good.

"Okay, I'll meet you there in twenty minutes or so", he said, "Je t'aime, mon amour".

Riccardo seemed to have parked the car at the front of your building, making you get the bag out of your car trunk and join him and his family, "hey guys! Thank you for coming to this", you smiled, touching Chiara's foot softly and getting a giggle out of the little girl.

"No worries, this is such a nice idea and we're happy to help!", Marta said, letting you walk up to the door so you could get to your apartment.

"For the first time in my life, I'm the first one somewhere, and then they showed up too!", Joris said as the rest of the group you invited stood up from the hallway floor.

"I'm sorry for making you wait, but I had to pick these up and then the call with Charles had to be done at the precise time so he wouldn't get here before I did!", you explained, unlocking the door and letting them in.

"So we're fine to wait, but Charles can't wait for you?", Joris teased, making kissing noises as you shook your head, "privileges of being my boyfriend - it is what it is!", you chuckled.

Delegating the small tasks you left for the last minute, Charles' text saying he had just parked the car was enough to capture you attention, "quick quick, go hide in the living room - careful with the board game boxes! He's coming up!", you ushered your friends to the living room before your boyfriend knocked on your door.

"Hello, my love", you said, kissing his lips and pulling him inside the supposedly quiet apartment.

"Hey, gorgeous girl - I missed you", he squeezed you tight once you closed the door, "I was getting in my he - what's that?", Charles asked as a noise came from the living room.

Chiara squealed loudly enough for him to hear, so in part your surprise was not such a surprise, "you're not alone?", he mused.

Lacing your hand in his, you pulled him to the living room as everyone jumped out of their places to greet him!

"Surprise - ish!", you waved your hands as if you were announcing some great show, "I gathered all your favourite people - Lorenzo is coming with Charlotte in a bit, he just picked her up from work and your mother also had a cliente so she'll arrive a little later. Arthur is in the bathroom?", you wondered as you saw him walk out and pat his brother's back, not missing the truly surprised look on his face as he pulled you closer to him, kissing your temple, "you're the best, amour, thank you", he whispered.

You had food laid out in the coffee table and drinks in the kitchen where everybody could serve themselves so you could have your dining table available for the board and card games you were playing along with some building blocks for Chiara who was immediately stolen from her parents once your boyfriend saw her.

"Do we want to make a castle? Or maybe a rollercoaster?", Charles mused with the little girl sitting on his lap, still keeping an eye on his Monopoly game to make sure no one was missing any of the payments on his properties, "Good job, chérie!", he congratulated her, kissing her chubby cheek.

"Do you want me to get you guys anything? I'm already going to the kitchen", you wondered, "can you fill this up for us, please?", Marta asked as she handed you the orange juice jug, "yes, of course!", you grabbed it.

"This was a great idea, Y/N", Lorenzo said whole he poured himself a drink as you stepped into the kitchen, "he's been in his head a lot recently", he began.

"It's not much, really, it was quite easy to put everything together and you being here was very kind", you brushed it off.

"Y/N, gathering his favourite people to do something he loves apart from racing may seem simple but it's what he needs right now - don't underestimate yourself or the ability you have to bring him back to a good mental space", he rubbed your shoulder before going back to open the door, "it's our mother", he excused himself.

You set the jug on the table and took Chiara from your boyfriend's arms, volunteering to change her nappy in your bedroom.

Charles hugged his mother tight, "Hello, mon petit", she cupped his face and kissed his cheek, "I'm not little anymore", Charles blushed, "you and your brothers will always be my little boys, I don't care how old or how tall you get", she smiled, greeting everyone else in the room.

His favourite people were all in the same place, Charles thought. Some were playing cards, some were just chatting and you just picked his friends' daughter to change her nappy like she was your own.

"Do you have room for one more? I'm usually pretty good at this!", Lorenzo said as he sat at the dining table, "you take my game - it's not too bad, just make sure Marta pays up what she owes me - two hotels in my blue cards", Charles raised his eyebrows, "I know you were counting on your daughter's cuteness to distract me, but I have excellent vision", he smirked.

Charles walked to your bedroom, seeing you close the diaper bag as Chiara kicked the air, layed on top of your comforter and giggling at the story you were telling her, "and then I had to tell the lady 'that won't do, because I have my boyfriend's family and our friends over for dinner and I can't have too little food! Even if I have left overs for weeks!' because that's what's right, right? She also had this very fluffy bread that was still warm from the oven so I asked her if she could add that because I knew you'd like it - bread is the best, isn't it, cutie?", you spoke.

You were it, he had known that for a long time.

You were the one he wanted to grow old with and go through every challenge life wanted to throw at you, because he knew you both could face them if you were there.

"And who is that spying on us, hm? It's Charles! Let's go and give Charles a big hug and many kisses!", you smiled, picking her up and approaching your boyfriend, cuddling into his chest as you kept the little girl on your arms, kissing his chest while Chiara palmed his face and giggled when Charles pretended to eat her fingers, "yummy fingers, nom, nom, nom".

"I need to get started on dinner - I'm doing that roast you really like", you offered, "I already prepped most of it, just need to cut up the veggies and then put in the oven, simple as that".

"C'mon, Chiara - I bet my mother is wondering where you are because she'll want a cuddle", Charles took her from your arms, "I'll be back for you", Charles slapped your butt playfully.

You were seasoning the food on the trays, making sure you weren't forgetting anything when your boyfriend walked up to join you, wrapping his arms around your waist, "thank you for this, I really needed it", he kissed under your ear, turning you around to face him and kissing your lips properly, "it's fine", you scoffed.

"No, I really needed it - it's easy to lose sight of these things and these moments", he began, "I was home and getting way too much into my own head and I wouldn't got to anyone unless they asked about it", he admitted, squeezing your body closer to his.

"I'm glad you liked it, it's truly nothing but I'm glad you're happy", you smiled, "I can't control what goes on your mind all the time but I'm going to make sure that whenever you're near me and say silly things about doubting yourself, I will always help you see the truth and work it out with you - no down talking about yourself when you're with me, understood?", you stated firmly almost like you were lecturing him.

"I know, amour", he giggled, kissing your forehead and then littering some more kisses on your face and making you break out in laughter loudly.

The dinner was great and everyone seemed to enjoy themselves as they ate the meal and spoke about whatever came to mind, summer plans already in discussion.

Charles was helping you put away the plates when he decided he would voice the thoughts running through his head. Usually at this time of the day he was already knee deep into strategies and failed attempts, but this time was different.

"I want this every day", Charles said with a big smile on his face.

"Well, not all of us have your schedule, it would be lovely, but maybe making it a weekly thing? Monthly maybe with your schedule?", you tried, not wanting to kick his idea straight to the trash.

"I don't mean that - I've been thinking about this a lot lately, and I was wondering if you'd like to move in with me", Charles clarified, "there's no point to keep two places when realistically, we spend most times at eachother's place - you're down to what? Sleeping two nights here per week?", he noted as you smiled.

"You want to move in together?", you checked and he nodded, "yes, I do - honestly, I've thinking we keep my place since you're renting here and that way you'd be closer to work, too", he suggested.

"Sounds good to me", you smiled, kissing his lips, sealing the deal.

"I don't want to be far away from you when we don't have to be, and this way you can save on rent, too!", he added and before you truly lectured him, he caught you ahead, "I know you won't let me pay for things on my own and we will find some arrangement for that, I was just saying you won't have to keep paying your landlord", he smiled.

"I mean it when I say I want to split expenses, okay?", you argued, "unless you start going with expensive caviar or any of that crazy expensive stuff - my salary can't take that", you joked.

"When have you ever seen that in my fridge?", he threw his head back as he laughed.

"I'm only joking, handsome - I can't wait to move in with you", you hugged him, "I love you, Charles, can't wait to be your new roomie".

[jackiepackiee]

𝒟𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓃 𝒮𝓁𝒶𝓎𝑒𝓇

𝑀𝑜𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝒽𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓏𝓊𝑔𝒶𝓌𝒶 𝒻𝒶𝓂𝒾𝓁𝓎 𝑀𝑜𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓃 𝒜𝒰!

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓎𝒶 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

Friday night had been rather eventful. With Genya having a marksmanship competition and you cheering him on. Even if he couldn’t hear you over the loud popping noises.

He was the best in the region, and these competitions could be lengthy. So when he had won for his accurate skills he was relieved to see you in the lobby of the range. Body fatigued from the hours of practice and shooting as well as the school day you both had prior. His tie was loose on his neck and some of his hair stuck in to make small bangs before you pushed it back into place.

The blush on his cheeks, which he had whenever he saw you, was apparent but much less noticeable than normal.

Poor boy was too tired to focus on his flustered nature, and he just needed to see you.

He loved when you came to his comps, since they could be pretty boring. But it now meant that it was around 9 pm/21:00 and the train home would be another half hour!

Genya, being the sweet boy he is, offered you his house to stay at for the nigh; knowing your house was much further away than his.

Today was very long, especially with Sanemis math quiz you both took that morning. He couldn’t stand the droopy eyes and tired smile you had while fighting to stay awake.

So, with an impromptu nap on the train, you both ventured to his home. Him paying for your ticket and carrying your school bag that you never got the chance to drop off at home.

This was brand new territory for you, since he would always walk you home first. Leading you to never know what his home looked like.

It was in a typical apartment complex. He opened the door for you and let you walk in, but you clung onto his arm unable to move without him going first. Honestly a little nervous to enter his house without him leading the way.

By the time you arrived it was 10 pm/22:00 and the house was dead silent. Everyone having been long asleep aside from Sanemi grading math at the table. You knew he has many young siblings from them barging into his room during FaceTime and his stories about them during lunch. Sanemi was the one you actually knew, since he was your teacher.

When he looked up at you he wasn’t nearly as scary as he was in class. He knew very well that you and Genya were dating, you are his student after all. And you being a teenage girl, half asleep, and shyly waving at him he couldn’t be harsh. He waved back, nodding his head.

“Keep the door open.”

That was all he said before throwing Genya a warning glare to “not doing anything fucking stupid.” Then looking back at his papers with a huff. Signaling that half of your class definitely failed…

Being one of seven, Genya was very lucky to have his own room. It was rather simple, with a poster or two of your shared favorite musicians and a bonsai tree on the window sill. He had a western bed, and a stuffed animal sitting on it that he won at the fair during summer. It was matching with the multiple prizes he won you.

He took you off of his arm and rummaged in his closet.

“You can wear one of my sweatshirts… only if you want to!!”

His flushed cheeks came back when he offered but he wasn’t definitely wishing you’d say yes. He put one in your hands and turned around. Covering his eyes signaling that you could change.

You had “stolen” his clothes before, but never like this? It was always a gifted coat in the cold or one of his button ups when all your uniforms were in the wash. He was practically glowing red at the sight of you in his clothes on top of the fact that you were in his room.

He had never imagined his girlfriend actually being allowed in his room, so he wasn’t taking any chances.

“You can take the bed, I’ll take the floor.”

And before you could protest, which he predicted, he added.

“Sanemi won’t be happy if he sees us sharing.”

With that you couldn’t argue, so you plopped onto the bed and were out like a light before Genya even laid a blanket over you.

Which leads us to now, 8 am/8:00 at the Shinazugawa household.

You are fast asleep on a bed that isn’t your own, covered in a thick blanket that smells like your boyfriend. The window blinds are cracked just enough to illuminate the room without it being overbearing.

Pushing yourself further into the warmth of the bed, your mind starts to wake up before the rest of your body. Processing some of your senses.

Eyes still closed and body still completely relaxed on the soft mattress. But your ears pick up everything.

Soft and excited murmurs are practically squealing. It must’ve been what had woken you up. High voices from what seemed to be pre teens to very young children, along with the curiosity typical in kids.

Then the murmurs become more clear as your head drifts out of its sleepy state. Processing the syllables as the fuzz in your mind leaves.

“She’s pretty.” A young boy spoke, before being overlapped by a girl.

“Yeah! Who is she?” She sounded like she needed to know immediately, beaming with excitement. But you don’t recognize these voices until a deep one spoke up.

“Quiet Shuya and Sumi, you’ll wake her. Thats (name), she’s our guest.”

It was Sanemi?! Everything became more clear as you pieced together your night. Remembering how you ended up here and where you were.

You become aware of the clothes on your body that are Genyas and the stuffed animal you can feel must have been placed by him in your arms after you knocked out.

Though you keep your eyes closed, ignoring the desire to see just what was going on. Trying to nestle back into the warmth of the soft bed and lull into sleep.

Although something broke you from your resolve, a small weight on your lap. Pulling at your sleeve and crawling on you.

Without anymore reason to go back to sleep you open your eyes to find five children surrounding you.

Teiko, the oldest and a girl, looking down at you curiously. Trying to piece together who you are before her face lights up.

Next to her Horishi, the second oldest and a boy, looking at you squinting. Seemingly analyzing you.

Then Sumi, the middle girl, looking at you with a shine of amazement in her eyes. Admiring you.

Shuya, the second youngest boy, on his toes to get a better look. An expression of excitement and playfulness.

And finally Koto, a very small boy on your stomach. Small toddler hand patting your hair and gripping it.

They all have a striking resemblance to Genya; which speaking of, you can see through the crowd. Sitting on a pile of blankets he has likely slept on. Burning red and covering his flushed face.

Sanemi is in the doorway, leaning against its frame and looking at the chaos with a blank expression.

Sumi speaks up again. “No fair Koto! I wanna be near her too!”

Shuya huffs in agreement before the two climb onto the bed.

You sit up to make more space, rubbing your eyes and looking around more clearly. A tired smile on your lips as the kids fight for your attention.

Koto stays in your lap while the adventurous Shuya climbs onto your shoulders. Sumi sat next you to, holding your arm. The youngest three having no hesitation to join you.

The older two were watching until Teiko and Horishi both spoke simultaneously.

“Is she your girlfriend?” They look at Genya, Horishi crossing his arms and Teiko glowing with excitement.

This causes Genya to blush even more, not responding and sitting perfectly still.

Saving his ass, Sanemi intervened.

“Come on, it’s time for breakfast. Give her some room.”

No one would argue with him… except for his younger siblings. This definitely wasn’t school where he was in charge.

“That doesn’t answer our question!” “But she’s so warm!” “I wanna stay with her!”

The jumble of whining was soothed by your gentle laughing breaking the noise.

“Hey now, better to listen to him. Your brother is scary~” You spoke as if you were telling them a secret.

You giggle and the kids follow suit. It seems so natural for you. They all get closer to you.

Genya is simply staring in awe as you converse with them, loving the gentle and kind nature you have with his dear siblings.

It’s obvious they’ve been up much longer than you, likely a very lively household. It’s no surprise since the young ones must’ve gone to bed much earlier.

And the ever prominent sleeper Genya has no choice in the matter but to be wide awake in his embarrassment.

“How did you two meet?” Teiko asks, wanting every detail. It seems very important for her to hear the romance, even if it was never told to them you were dating.

“We share the same classes at school. I had to tutor him in chem after he accidentally blew up an experiment!” The kids all laugh and remember the day he came home with messy hair and dust all over his uniform.

“You must be so smart miss! And you’re so pretty.” Sumi compliments and smiles brightly.

Before you can continue answering the onslaught of questions, you hear a call from outside the room.

“Breakfast!”

It’s Shizu Shinazugawa, their mother. You have met before at some school events, so her sweet small voice was recognizable.

The kids pull at your arms, trying to get you to join them. So without hesitance you stand up with Koto in one arm on your hip and Shuya hanging off your shoulder like a monkey.

The kids all laugh before rushing you to the table. They push past Sanemi who huffs at the bounds of excitement so early.

Koto is the first to sit when you place him in his chair, and he makes grabby hands at you. Then Shuya climbs off and onto the floor.

Every kid is pulling you to sit next to them, but you simply ruffle their hair and walk into the kitchen.

Sanemi and Genya sit at the table too, the latter being interrogated by his siblings.

“Miss Shinazugawa? Do you need any help?”

You ask while smiling at the familiar woman. She shakes her head and smiles while cooking.

“No no, you’ve already been such an uplifting spirit for the young ones. And you’re my guest!”

Even after declining your help, you wash your hands and cut the fruit she had washed. Helping anyways, which didn’t go unnoticed by her. Or Genya for that matter.

Who looks like a lovesick puppy staring at you helping his mom. The person he loves helping a woman he loves! His heart was melting fast.

“Big brother! Is she your girlfriend?”

“Is she wearing your sweatshirt?”

“New big sister?”

The babble never ended until you and Miss Shinazugawa brought breakfast.

Soon the kids all shut up with speed and filled their mouths.

And Genya wasn’t the only one in awe at his partner…

You couldn’t help but stare in adoration as he helped cut up Koto’s food after his frustration caused him to give up.

Being incredibly gentle as he soothed and helped his young brother.

Mornings like this are definitely something you can get used to…

[haikyu-mp4]

Non-public relations

Suggestive workplace romance at the JVA in a secret relationship with Kuroo for my workplace romance event <3

requested anonymously. word count; 699 – f!reader

No one would be surprised to find out you and Kuroo had a thing going on. You were known as charismatic members of the JVA’s public relations department. You were both incredibly good-looking and carrying around this palpable energy that made everyone else feel like they were interrupting something when sharing a space with you two.

However, your contracts were clear: No dating your coworkers.

You loved this job, no less than Kuroo loved his, and there was no way you would risk your reputation or change jobs for something as simple as an attractive coworker.

“Kuroo. How’s that difficult new account?” you asked, tweaking one eyebrow with a challenging smirk.

“You will be happy to know it’s working out perfectly fine. I’m currently making a presentation with an offer they simply cannot deny,” he answered cheekily, resting a hand on his hip and leaning towards you as if emphasising his towering height.

“I recommended you for it after they,” You sighed for effect. “-asked me to handle it first. But as you know, I’m terribly busy.” You shook your head as if it was such a pity, not moving an inch from your spot.

“Are you really?” The sound of the printer started up, seeming to breathe heavily at the number of documents you and Kuroo just so happened to be printing at the same time. “I had no idea.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and looking him up and down. “Maybe you should pay closer attention, Tetsu.”

It was silent for a moment as you both listened for any passing steps out in the hallway, any voices chatting on the way to the lunch room who might stop by. When there was nothing, you both sprung into action.

Kuroo’s arms snuck around your waist, hands working their way over your hips to your ass like you were a sentient stress ball. You twisted his tie around one hand, the other arm slung over his back to keep his lips against yours, not that you needed to. He seemed just as hungry as you were, kissing you messily as ever.

A loud beep made you push him away, clearing your throat awkwardly when you realised it was just the printer begging for a reload of paper. Your cheeks were flushed and Kuroo chuckled breathily before running a thumb over his bottom lip and looking sideways at you where you smoothed out your clothing. “Staying late today?”

“Of course,” you said, back to competitive as you got another pack of paper and handed it to Kuroo so he could fix it. You picked up your completed documents, sitting them on your hip and turning towards the door. While he looked at you, chest heaving and eyes travelling downwards, you snuck your free hand to tease the hem of his suit pants in passing. “I’m expecting you will, too.”

The last time you stayed late, you waited until the last person left before dragging your chair over to Kuroo’s desk, leaning on his shoulder and continuing your work until it was done. You were professionals, after all, no fun until the work is done.

But after finishing off the last reports, the work would be shoved aside so Kuroo could hoist you up on the desk and slot himself between your legs, lips going ham on your neck as the buttons came undone one by one. Sure you could do this in the privacy of either of your apartments, but there was something so enticing about sneaking around like this.

“I heard Hanta’s staying late as well,” he told you, tone suggesting that could be a problem.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t,” you assured confidently, giving him a genuine smile as you stood by the door to the printer room. “Let’s get pizza tonight?”

“Yeah, if you help me work off the calories when we’re done.”

You made sure your hips swayed while walking away, knowing he was looking over his shoulder at you, salivating over the mental image of how you looked underneath those tailored work clothes. Not that it would be a mental image for long, you’d be begging him for more in just a few sweet hours.

masterlist

[loulou-land]

5 Times Buck Realized He Could Be Clingy + 1 Time Tommy was the Clingy One

Day 4 of @bucktommyfluffebruary | Clingy Boyfriends | 4,076 words

(1) Before a Shift

Mornings like these were always the hardest for Buck. 

After days spent together—wrapped up in each other, tucked away from the world—it was too easy to get used to having Tommy there. Waking up beside him, getting to roll over to steal lazy kisses, lingering in bed until the sun had well and truly come up. Then, moving to the kitchen, sharing warm coffee, leaning into each other's spaces as they made breakfast, coming up with half-baked plans for the day that they may or may not follow through on. 

Buck had done a bit of the domesticity thing with Taylor, but it wasn’t anywhere close to what this was. He had never felt as comfortable as he did with Tommy.  And the most incredible part? How seamlessly they had fallen into it, without a second thought. 

But eventually, reality came knocking. 

And Buck hated it. 

The soft glow of their cozy bubble would be ripped away by ringing alarms and the harsh reality of shifts that wouldn't align for a while. And today, it was Tommy’s turn to leave for a shift while Buck still had the rest of the day off. 

Buck tried to be normal about it. He really did. 

Continue Reading Below or on ao3

He'd stayed curled up in bed, watching as Tommy moved through his morning routine—brushing his teeth while Buck sleepily watched from the pillow; buttoning up his uniform with practiced ease, Buck following the movement of his hands spellbound; sitting on the edge of the bed to lace up his boots, just within his reach. 

Okay, time to be cool. Rein it in, Buck thought. Wish him a good day and go back to sleep. 

Instead, before Tommy could make a move to stand, Buck latched on. 

Nothing dramatic—just a small tug at the fabric of Tommy’s shirt—just enough to stall him. 

Tommy huffed out a quiet laugh, and Buck immediately backtracked. 

“ Sorry ,” Buck laughed, sheepish. “Just…fixing your shirt. All good now.” 

It was pathetic, but his fingers still didn’t let go. 

Tommy hummed, turning slightly, looking at him consideringly. “Thank you, sweetheart.” 

And Buck…he definitely should've let go by now. He didn't want to make Tommy late. Instead, his finger tightened in the fabric, just slightly. 

Tommy noticed. He always noticed. 

But he didn't call him out on his dramatics. Didn't tease him. He just reached down, cupped the side of Buck’s face, and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, right over his birthmark. 

“I'll text you between calls.” Tommy promised. 

Buck swallowed down the lump in his throat, forcing himself to nod. “ Be safe .” 

Tommy kissed him again, slower this time—lingering, reassuring—before heading for the door. 

A little while later, Buck decided to brave the day. He had barely finished pouring his coffee when his phone buzzed. 

8:55 am

Tommy: Lucy brought donuts today :) (attached image: Tommy biting into a glazed donut, blue eyes sparkling happily) 

Buck huffed out a startled laugh, shaking his head at his boyfriend's massive sweet tooth. 

Buck: Looks delicious. But not as delicious as the man holding it ;) 

Tommy: Evan…behave 😤 

And that was only the beginning. 

9:47am 

Tommy: you have competition, look at how adorable he is (attached image: a orange tabby stretched out on the concrete taking a nap) 

Buck: I’m more adorable tho 🥺 right?

Buck: Tommy?? 

Buck: right?!!

10:05 am

Buck: I just watched that new documentary on black holes.

Buck: Did you know a black hole could fit in your pocket? 🤯

Tommy: That must be why I’m always losing stuff after I’ve put them in my pockets…

Buck: dork 🙄

Tommy: only for you ❤️ 

10:58am

Tommy: I’m going to kill the newbie

Buck: why? 

Buck: please don’t. I need you here, not in jail. 

Tommy: he keeps using my coffee mug 😑

Buck: wow, brave man…

11:05 am

Buck: (attached image: Buck in front of the mirror, wearing form fitting workout clothes and smirking into the camera) 

Tommy: Baby 😍  

Tommy: You don’t play fair. But two can play this game

Tommy: (attached image: Tommy wearing aviator glasses, smiling smugly, sitting in the cockpit of the helicopter) 

Buck: …you win 🥵

They continued texting every moment they could throughout the day. Tommy telling him about an interesting call they'd gotten about a naked hiker stuck up in a tree, how he regretted asking the guy how it happened, how Lucy kept teasing him for texting so much and how he couldn’t wait to see him again.  

Buck loved it.

And somewhere in the back and forth of messages, Buck realized something. 

 Tommy really was unlike anyone he'd ever met. 

Because Tommy didn't just tolerate Buck’s need to share every thought, every feeling, every random little moment—he truly wanted it. 

(2) Holding Hands

Buck was a touchy person. 

But it wasn't something he'd ever really thought about—until he started dating tommy. 

Because now, whenever they were on a date, every time they were out together, Buck found himself hyper-aware of the way their shoulders brushed as they walked side by side. The way Tommy’s warmth bled into him, a steady presence, grounding, there. 

Buck relished it. Enjoyed being close to Tommy. 

But what he really loved? 

Holding Tommy’s hand. 

There was something addicting about the feeling of it—calloused and strong, big enough to make Buck’s fingers feel almost small in comparison. It was ridiculous how much he liked that, how obsessed he was with the way his hand fit so perfectly in Tommy’s. 

It had been a revelation the first time it happened. They were walking through a farmer’s market on a lazy Sunday morning, sipping coffee and browsing fresh produce. Buck had been excitedly telling Tommy about the health benefits of squash while Tommy listened intently. It had been natural, the way Buck’s hand had found Tommy’s—automatic, easy, just right. 

And then he’d looked down at them. At their fingers interlaced together, Tommy’s grip was firm and warm. Confident and sure. 

Buck hadn't meant to stare at them, completely oblivious to the world around him. But he was amazed at how perfect it felt, like a puzzle piece finally slotting into place. Then Tommy squeezed his hand, and Buck had looked up—face flushing, embarrassed at being caught. 

Without a word, Tommy lifted their joined hands and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to Buck’s hand. 

Buck tripped. 

It was just a small misstep, but Tommy definitely spotted it. 

“You good, Evan?” Tommy said grinning. 

“Yeah. Totally. That wasn't—” Buck stammered, clearing his throat. “Just, uh, uneven pavement.” 

Tommy smirked. “Mhm,” 

Buck glared at him, but it was hard to look indignant when his heart was currently doing flips inside his chest. 

That moment had opened the floodgates.  

After that Buck would reach for Tommy’s hand without even thinking about it. His fingers sliding between Tommy’s, intertwining, squeezing just slightly. Holding on for as long as he could. 

If Tommy needed to open a door, reach for something or take out his wallet Buck would relinquish his hold for a few seconds before immediately latching on again. 

Tommy always smiled, a small little pleased thing. 

So Buck kept doing it. He reached for him when walking together. When they were waiting in line for coffee. In the car, driving to places. While out at the bar with their family and friends. At home, snuggling on the couch or laying in bed.  

And every time, Tommy let him. 

No teasing. No hesitation. 

Just a gentle squeeze back, like he never wanted to let go either. 

(3) After a Bad Call

Some shifts turned out bad.

Buck had accepted that a long time ago.

But knowing it didn’t make it any easier.

It didn’t make it easier when a call went south, when a victim slipped away no matter how hard they tried. It didn’t make it easier when he could still hear the sounds of screaming or see the way that life slipped through his fingers.

It didn’t make it easier when the self-doubt crept in, making its home in him, when his chest tightened with the weight of it all, when the voices whispered in his ear—you should’ve done more, you should’ve been better, you should’ve saved them.

Sometimes, those voices sounded exactly like his parents.

Other times, it was just his own.

And on those nights, Buck needed something solid. He craved something warm. Something that told him he was still here. That he still mattered. 

But asking for comfort had never been easy for him. Especially when Buck felt like he didn’t deserve it. When he felt like he was making things once again all about himself. 

So when he walked through the door, carrying the weight of that night’s failure, he didn’t say anything.

Buck dropped his keys on the counter. Stood with his hands flat on it as he stared unseeing at the grainy dots of the countertop. Then he rubbed a hand over his face like that would somehow scrub the frustration off of him.

Buck tensed when he felt strong arms circle his waist and got pulled into a steady chest. He matched his breathing to Tommy’s and felt himself slowly relaxing and letting go of some of the tension in his shoulders. 

It helped that Tommy didn’t ask.

He just took one look at Buck and knew.

Knew what Buck needed, even if he couldn’t say it.

“C’mere .”

Buck didn’t even hesitate.

He turned around and let himself be pulled in, let himself be wrapped up in Tommy’s arms.

And for a while, he just stood there, breathing Tommy in, grounding himself in the warmth of his chest, not thinking about anything other than Tommy Tommy Tommy . 

Eventually, Tommy kissed his temple, then nudged him toward the bathroom.

“Hot shower first. Then I’ve got you.”

And Buck froze for a second, completely amazed at the concept that someone had him. 

After the shower, Buck found his favorite sweatpants and hoodie waiting for him. The ones that were soft and well-worn, the ones that felt safe. The ones he’d hide in when he was feeling particularly raw and bereft. His heart picked up speed at the thought that Tommy had picked up on that. Had remembered. 

There was a cup of soothing tea on the nightstand.

But most importantly?

There was Tommy.

Sitting on the bed, waiting with open arms, like he already knew exactly where Buck needed to be.

Buck didn’t fight it anymore. 

He climbed into bed, curled into Tommy’s chest, let himself feel it— the warmth, the comfort, the weight of arms holding him together when he felt like he was falling apart at the seams. 

Tommy didn’t say anything, just rubbed slow circles into his back, a steady touch that anchored him, that reminded him he was here.

At some point, Buck let the pain in him crack open.

He exhaled shakily, pressed his face into Tommy’s neck, wrapped his fingers in his shirt and let himself cry.

And Tommy just held him.

Didn’t judge him, didn’t rush him, didn’t tell him to pull himself together, didn’t make him feel any less for showing emotions, didn’t say it was fine because it wasn’t.

Tommy just held on tighter to Buck. 

And when Buck’s breathing evened out, when the exhaustion started creeping in, Tommy finally spoke—low, soft, certain.

“You did everything you could, baby.”

“You’re a damn good firefighter, Evan.”

“I’ve got you. I’m here.” 

And Buck—warm and safe, pressed against the only person who had ever made him feel like he could just be, that he didn’t have to hold it all in—let himself believe it.

(4) In Public

Buck had never really been big on PDA.

Not because he was uncomfortable with it—he just hadn’t really been the type. With past partners, he’d hold hands, drape an arm around their shoulder, maybe rest a hand on their lower back. A quick kiss on the cheeks or lips. But that was it. 

With Tommy, it was different. He just— wanted. All the time.  

It was like some switch had flipped in his brain. Like his body just instinctively sought Tommy out. Tommy was Earth, and Buck was his moon, caught in his orbit. 

He couldn’t help it.

Wherever they were, Buck was aware of him.

Tommy could be across the room, deep in conversation with Bobby, or standing at the truck joking around with Eddie, and Buck would still know exactly where he was at all times.

(Chimney had once called it his Built-In Tommy Radar™.)

Which, granted, was very dramatic.

But also, not entirely untrue.

And really, he blamed Tommy. He’d totally conditioned Buck. Because every time their eyes met across the room, Tommy would give him that smile.

The soft, scrunchy one, the one that was just for him.

And Buck?

Buck was a lost cause. 

What else was he supposed to do but make his way to Tommy? To kiss that smile that was his and his alone, to sigh happily into his mouth, to melt under Tommy’s touch—the warm press of his hands on Buck’s hips, the rest of the world fading away. 

So yeah. Maybe he was a PDA guy.

Maybe he did like having Tommy’s arms around him, the way he got pulled in effortlessly as Tommy talked to Chim, Hen or Eddie, like it was second nature, like he was proud to have Buck in his arms. 

And maybe he did like the steady hand on his lower back when walking through a crowd, the way Tommy would subtly shift in front of him, protective without even thinking about it (and though Buck could take care of himself, there was something about the action that made him feel cared for), the soft kiss to the side of his head when there was a lull in conversation. 

He also loved the dorky, completely endearing compliments Tommy gave Buck regardless of whoever was standing within listening distance, they always left him grinning like an idiot. 

 He doesn’t ever remember being as giddy as he gets when Tommy flirts with him—making him feel as nervous as their very first date. 

And maybe—just maybe—he was a little obsessed with Tommy’s hugs.

(Okay, a lot obsessed.)

Because Tommy gave the best hugs.

Big and warm, arms wrapped around him like a shield, like Buck was something precious.

So yeah, he sought them out. Constantly. And maybe that happened to be when they were around people. So what. It was always a good time to get a Tommy hug. 

And Tommy never denied him.

So Buck kept doing it. 

One time, Buck had been trapped in a long-winded Chimney movie rant, which was fine, except he really missed Tommy and wanted to be in his arms. 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fascinating. Uh…excuse me, I gotta go ask Tommy something…” he said, turning in the direction of where he knew Tommy was. 

Chimney stopped mid-sentence, shaking his head. “You didn’t hear a single word I said, did you?” 

Buck blinked. “Hmm? What?’

Chimney sighed. “Go on. Find Tommy. I’m stealing him later.” He pointed a finger at Buck. “Heactually appreciates my movie discussions.” 

Buck snorted. “Good luck with that.” He patted Chim’s shoulder and happily took off. 

He found Tommy in the kitchen, drinking a glass of wine and talking to Hen. Without hesitation, Buck slotted himself into his side.

Tommy didn't even pause—just wrapped an arm around him, tugged him in closer, and kept talking.

Like it was the most natural thing in the world, to have a Buck shaped limpet attached to his side. 

Which, to be fair, it kind of was now.

Hen just raised an eyebrow. “You really can’t go five minutes without touching him, huh?”

“Nope,” Buck said easily.

Tommy just smiled, pressed a kiss to the top of Buck’s head, and kept rubbing slow circles into his back.

Buck grinned, nuzzling into Tommy’s neck, unable to mask the joy he felt in simple moments like this—where he objectively knew he was maybe being a bit too much, but had learned that in Tommy’s eyes? 

It was never enough. 

(5) After the Breakup 

After the breakup—and after Tommy realized his mistake, and after Buck ignored what everyone else was telling him and went to get his man back, and after the screaming-crying match outside Tommy’s house, followed by clothes ripping, up against the door, we’re-having-sex-and-getting-back-together moment—Buck’s clinginess ramped up. 

Not in a bad way. Not in a suffocating, unhealthy way.

Just in a he-knows-what-life-without-Tommy-feels-like-and-doesn’t-want-to-go-through-that-ever-again way.

And luckily for him, Tommy felt exactly the same.

Which was why, after a week of barely seeing each other because of their shifts, Buck was on the verge of losing it. He needed his Tommy time. It was a necessity at this point. 

Buck was so ready to make up for lost time.

Usually, when this happened, they’d spend a full 48 hours wrapped up in each other. No interruptions, no responsibilities—just them.

But this time?

This time, the universe had conspired against them. 

Buck didn’t know what god's he’d pissed off, but he’d love to make them an offering because this? This was just unfair. 

Instead of catching up properly—with a nice dinner (Tommy for desert), a relaxing movie (which they wouldn’t really watch, because Buck would be riding Tommy), a long shower (where Tommy would suck him dry), and finally going to bed (making love until they wrung a couple of orgasm of each other)—they’d fallen asleep. 

They’d both come off exhausting shifts that had gone into overtime, stumbled into bed, shared a sleepy kiss, and promptly passed out. 

Of course, the next morning, they’d overslept.

Which meant no lazy morning kisses, no waking Tommy up with a blowjob, no time to soak each other in, and—worst of all—no shower quickie.

Nope. Rather, they’d had to rush out the door to make it to Bobby and Athena’s BBQ. 

“Can’t we just stay in this time?” Buck pouted. “I can just tell them I got sick.”

Tommy chuckled, “Baby, we did that last time. And they didn’t believe it.” 

“Well, how was I supposed to know you were such a bad actor? Buck huffed. “I told you to sound nasally, not British.” 

Tommy shrugged, throwing him a long-suffering smile. “Well, now you know why I’m a pilot and not an actor,” he said drily. 

Buck slumped in the passenger seat, fidgeting with Tommy’s fingers “I just want you all to myself. I feel like I haven’t seen in forever,” he whined. 

“I know, sweetheart. I feel the same.” Tommy squeezed his hand. “But if we don’t make an appearance, we’re getting disowned.”

“Fine,” Buck grumbled. 

And now, Buck was suffering.

He was pretty sure his family had conspired to ruin his life. Because tell him why everyone kept stealing Tommy away.

First, Chimney cornered him to talk about the greatest horror movies of the ‘90s (Who cares, Buck thought viciously.) 

Then, Eddie pulled him aside for car talk. (C’mon man, you guys have your own bro day for this!) 

After that, Maddie and Karen had claimed him, dragging him into a corner with wine and gossip (And okay, fine, Buck couldn’t compete with that right now—Tommy did love juicy gossip.) 

But Buck? 

Buck was two seconds away from doing some maiming. 

He tried to be patient.

Tried to play it cool.

But after an hour of barely seeing Tommy? When they’d come here together? 

Enough was enough.

So when they finally sat down to eat, Buck plopped himself right into Tommy’s lap.

Just. Dropped right in.

Complete silence around the table. 

Until— 

“Oh my god.” Chimney, squawked. 

“Can you two be normal for five minutes?” Eddie sighed.

“Buckaroo, you do know there’s an empty chair right there?” Athena said, dryly. 

“I’m surprised he lasted this long without touching Tommy,” Hen smirked. 

Bobby just shook his head and passed the potatoes to Maddie. 

“I think it’s sweet,” Maddie said, completely unbothered.

Tommy just laughed, wrapping an arm around Buck’s waist, pulling him closer.

“Missed me, babe?”

“You have no idea,” Buck sighed dramatically, melting against him.

The table collectively groaned.

“Disgusting.” Hen.

“Sickening.” Chimney.

“Truly vile.” Eddie.

“You’re all just jealous,” Buck mumbled into Tommy’s shoulder.

Tommy chuckled, dropping a kiss to the side of Buck’s head, keeping one hand on his waist and pulling their plate closer to share. 

Buck grinned.

Yeah, he was exactly where he was supposed to be. 

(+1) After the Breakup - Tommy’s Version

Tommy woke up first.

He blinked the sleep from his eyes, his breath catching in his throat as he found himself staring at Evan. 

Evan, who was sleeping peacefully beside him, face soft and relaxed, his lips curved into the smallest, barely-there smile.

His head was pillowed on Tommy’s arm, his fingers curled loosely around Tommy’s waist, even in sleep still holding on.

Tommy exhaled, slow and careful, like if he moved too fast, it would all disappear.

Because some part of him—the stupid, still-scared part of him—was afraid this wasn’t real, that this was all a dream, a hallucination, a cruel trick of his own mind.

How could Evan really be here—in his house, in his bed, in his arms?

But no. He remembered.

Tommy remembered opening the door yesterday and coming face to face with an angry, teary-eyed Evan.

He remembered the way Evan had yelled at him—loud and emotional and so heartbreakingly honest.

“You don’t get to make that choice for me, Tommy! You don’t get to decide that you won’t be my last!”

And Tommy had broken down. Had said things he never meant to say out loud.

Had told Evan that he deserved better.

And Evan had shouted right back—loud, frustrated but completely sure of himself.

“I don’t want ‘better.’ I want you. Not some mythical, perfect person out there. You—Tommy. You’re already my perfectly imperfect guy. I love you.”

And Tommy—God.

Tommy had wanted to believe him. Had wanted to trust it.

So he’d made a choice. Because living without Evan had been the worst experience of his life.

And now, here they were.

Evan made a soft sound, stirring awake.

Tommy watched as his eyelashes fluttered, as his breathing shifted, as blue eyes slowly blinked open.

And then Evan saw him. And smiled, bright and beaming and easy, like he’d never once doubted Tommy was going to be here.

God.

How could Tommy have ever let this go?

He lifted a hand, fingers tracing the shape of Evan’s lips, his nose, the sharp line of his jaw. He followed the slope of his eyebrow, the curve of the pink mark above it.

Evan hummed happily, leaning into his touch.

And something in Tommy cracked wide open. Now that he could finally touch again, he couldn’t stop.

Not in the desperate, frantic way they had last night, when their hands had been all urgency, all need, all pent-up longing and desperation.

No. This was softer.

This was Tommy relearning Evan—as if he could ever truly forget him—his hands traveling slowly, memorizing and rediscovering all at once.

The curve of Evan’s hip. The dip of his spine. The warmth of his skin under Tommy’s palm.

Evan preened under the attention, sighing happily, and Tommy just soaked him in.

They lay there for a while, watching each other, saying everything without really saying a word.

Until finally, Evan made a move to sit up.

Tommy hadn’t even realized he made a noise—something small, something desperate, something aching—until Evan stopped instantly.

“Hey.” Evan’s voice was soft, questioning. “What’s wrong?”

Tommy swallowed.

His throat felt tight.

“Just—” He hesitated, but only for a second, then let himself be honest.

“Stay. A little while longer. Please.”

Evan smiled, soft and knowing. “Of course, honey.”

He opened his arms, and Tommy fell into them, into warmth and safety and home. Fell into the one place he never wanted to leave again.

Evan’s arms came up around him, holding him just as tightly as Tommy was holding on to him.

Tommy pressed his face into the crook of Evan’s neck, exhaling slow, letting himself breathe, letting himself believe.

He had Evan.

Because Evan had chosen him.

And this time?

Tommy wasn’t letting him go.

[iluvmorales]

Miles morales, Earth 1610

summary What was your first kiss like?

a/n none

Word count ??

“Miles!” You called out with a smile, picking up your pace as you ran to the boy. He had his headphones on but he could hear you even through the loud ass music.

He turned to face you with a smile, watching you with adoration. “Y/N!” He held one of his arms up allowing you to wrap yours around his torso. “What’re you doing all the way over here?” He asked, setting his arm around you.

“I just wanted to see you, plus our classes were canceled today because of the attack last night. Kinda crashed out windows and stuff.” You spoke, not really caring about what’d happened to your school.

You and miles were split up when he’d one first place in the competition, he was sent to visions academy and you were sent to riverview academy, visions academy’s biggest rival.

“Ohh, I can skip class with you if you want? It’s just Spanish anyways.” Miles offered, taking his headphones completely down and resting on his neck with his free hand.

You quickly let go of him and stood straight, fixing your now wrinkled shirt; “No don’t do that what? I was just wondering if I could wait for you in your dorm?” You beamed at him with a smile.

“Ohh yeah, it’ll be quick.” Miles nodded as he walked up the steps and opened the door letting you in first. He wouldn’t admit it of course, but he was internally freaking out.

You looked so good today and you came all this way just to see him for a couple hours? You’d be the death of him if he wasn’t taught how to keep his cool when it comes to girls by his unc.

“Okay we can’t let admin see you so come this way” Miles pulled you into a less crowded hallway, a longer route to the dorms.

“I’ll race you there” you grinned at miles, waiting for him to accept your challenge. You always had the childish spark to you when you were around miles.

“Okay, if I win you have to let me borrow your 1’s and any clothes I want for a day- “You don’t even fit my shoes! Or my clothes!” He yelled.

“True, but if you win I’ll do something you want.” Miles paused,

Something he wants?

His mind instantly flashed images of you giving him a kiss, something he’d always wanted to do but backed down everytime the tension between you two built up.

“Bet.” Was all he sad before tying his laces and standing at a line the tiled floor provided. You quickly took your position next to him before smiling at him.

“1”

“2”

“3”

And on three you both took off, darting for the dorms. Miles was obviously ahead, but you didn’t expect it. “Since when were you so- athletic?!” You yelled trying your hardest to catch up with him.

He only looked back at you, sticking out his tongue like a child. Before you both knew it, miles slammed into the door first, you running still, not being able to slow down.

“Miles!” You yelled, tripping over your own feet. He quickly caught you, sending him slamming into the door once more.

You both laughed and giggled, being in miles’ arms as you looked up with a smile. “Damn, you really won huh” you said, defeatedly.

“Yeah,..” he trailed off, eyes moving towards your lips. You caught notice of it of course, but you looked at him, slowly inching closer.

His hand moved to your lower back and another to your cheek. You closed your eyes and moved closer, closing the little distance that was between you both.

His lips on yours was like static, a feeling in your chest you’d never felt before. You pulled away, still in a little daze as you looked up at miles. You both smiled like idiots in love before the dorms door had swung open causing you both to fall back into the room.

“Miles could you not make out on the door while I’m in here” ganke hummed before stepping over you two and into the hallway.

Both of your faces were on fire, your legs between his and your chests against eachother. You quickly stood up helping miles as well.

“Miles were gonna be late hurry up!” Ganke yelled from the end of the hallway. Miles scratched the back of his head nervously;

“we can talk about it later miles, get to class” you smiled lovingly at him before walking up and giving him a peck on his cheek

“Yeah..yeah okay see you in a hour” miles smiled, stepping out the dorm. “I’m still gonna wear your clothes miles!” You yelled as he walked down the hallway.

“Lo que es mío es tuyo amor!” He turned to face you throwing his hands up while walking backwards, winking.

You just laughed before going back into the dorm, closing the door.

amor.

translation

- Lo que es mío es tuyo amor means What’s mine is yours love

[lascvitae]

010. for certain. — the keeho straight era is upon us

jimin, an upcoming star, accidentally finds her new crush, y/n, through a competitive overwatch match. though fueled by her rage for the gameplay, jimin finds herself falling for the girl. whether there be consequences or not, jimin always gets what she wants.

word count: 1.3k

upon hearing three knocks at the door, y/n practically leapt onto her feet. she had seen karina yesterday, yet she still had felt so much excitement coursing through her veins to hear her voice again today. as the door swung open, y/n’s thoughts must have flew out of it because she impulsively hooked her arms around the idol’s neck, pulling her into a tight hug. karina, who was a bit taken aback, accepted the embrace wholeheartedly and smiled as her arms came to rest at y/n’s lower back. as they pulled away, karina was already missing the warmth and the younger’s signature powdery scent.

“were you waiting for me? i was about to say where my hug at.” her heart began to race and the younger girl displayed faux disgust — the previous smile that was wider than a kid in a candy store dropping in an instant. she closed the door and settled back onto the couch, knees coming to rest at her chest. “kinda. i took a shower before you got here.” that explained why she smelled ten times better than usual. “oh, so you can take fast showers?” y/n rolled her eyes, smiling at karina as she settled a significant amount of distance next to the female. “are we watching more barbie movies or what?” karina took off her jacket, tossing it onto the ottoman.

now settled in y/n’s bed, the duo shared a family pack of oreos as they found themselves pressing play to yet another movie. it wasn’t barbie movies anymore — they had been watching christmas movies now. they both lay on their stomachs, laptop screen illuminating their faces along with the multicolored led lights. “what are you doing for christmas, y/n?” karina hummed, turning to look at y/n. how pretty, she thought to herself. “my parents want me and sooyoung to come visit.” she sighed, pausing the movie to check the time. “i don’t know when, though. but i typically can’t talk myself out of it so easily.” she turned to look at karina, breath catching in her throat.

then, her hand reached out to shut the laptop. “um, it’s getting really late, you sh—“ the idol stopped her from standing up, maintaining eye contact. her hand gripped onto the streamer’s arm and unbeknownst to her, y/n’s heart was about to burst through her chest. their previous conversation danced throughout her head, filling it with all different kinds of scenarios and she could swear that karina’s eyes had snaked down to her lips for a moment. “what if i want to stay the night?” y/n desperately tried to calm her nerves. karina was asking to stay the night. in her condo.

“come on, y/n.” karina pouted slightly. “you leave wednesday. let me have this.” her grip loosened on the arm, slowly releasing it once y/n showed no signs of disagreement. “okay, sure. as long as you don’t get in trouble. you can take the bed. i’ll sleep on the couch.” y/n offered. “no way! i’m the guest, i’ll take the couch.” she crossed her arms. “if you’re staying, you can take the bed. i’ll lay out some clothes for you. plus, i really don’t mind.” karina sat up, grabbing y/n’s wrist instead of her arm this time around. “y/n, princess.” she started. the word was smooth like velvet when karina actually spoke it and it made the streamer’s entire world slow down. “what if we just both sleep in the bed? we can put a pillow in between us. no big deal.” and then the idol shrugged as if it was nothing. no big deal? y/n felt relief that her exam was tuesday and not tomorrow. how could she possibly sleep tonight?

and then after a quick shower, karina was walking through the doorway of y/n’s bedroom. she smelled almost exactly like y/n and it made the younger woman giggle at the idea of the karina yu using her body wash and shampoo. karina flicked the light off, leaving only the strip leds as a light source, furrowing her eyebrows as y/n continued to giggle. she wasn’t complaining, though — the sound was better than any song. “what’s so funny?” she threw a poor innocent kuromi plushie that was on standby. thankfully due to her fast reflexes, the streamer dodged it with ease and only laughed more. “hey! i just thought it was unbelievable that you smell like me right now.” karina’s lips curved into a genuine smile as she took this time to smell her own slightly damp hair. “how is that so funny?” karina asked, clearly puzzled. “because you’re karina. and i’m me.” y/n pointed at the older woman then back at herself.

“i’m just jimin to you, princess.” there was that word again. it always left karina’s lips with such ease that it just felt right. y/n could really get used to hearing it more. “what side do you usually sleep on?” this was when y/n had really realized how drastic the current situation was — her and karina were sleeping in the same bed. “i usually sleep on the right.” she yawned, making herself comfortable and finding the charger plug for her phone as the idol did she same on the other side. the hello kitty bolster pillow rested in between them, but nothing could stop them from admiring each other.

the only difference was that y/n was more on the subtle side. she tried to hide it behind her phone, while karina was downright shameless. she wasn’t even trying to hide it, and it made y/n’s cheeks heat up. “stop looking at me like that.” the streamer cleared her throat. as it didn’t prove effective, y/n leaned down to turn on her fan and reached for the remote to the led lights. “what’re you doing?” karina eyed her curiously. “i’m getting ready for bed. you should do the same.” yet y/n didn’t turn off the lights just yet, mesmerized by how karina looked underneath the dim lighting.

“i can’t sleep.” she replied simply, to which y/n just scoffed. “you haven’t even tried, jimin.” the light yet accusatory tone had karina fighting back a smile. “i already know i won’t be able to.” she moved closer to the make-shift pillow barrier. “and why is that?” y/n entertained the idol’s antics. “because i still haven’t gotten a goodnight kiss.” y/n froze. this wasn’t an ideal situation for the woman. truth be told, she was a lonely — but rich — overwatch player, and she had almost zero experience with girls, even though she only found interest in them. there were probably more romantic moments she could remember with men than there were with women — giving her the key indicator that she didn’t like them.

“my god, jimin.” she started. “you’re gonna give me a heart attack. go to sleep.” to this, karina huffed. y/n’s sneaky little glances at her lips whenever they parted didn’t go unnoticed, but she decided not to push the matter any further. after a while of silence, the streamer finally decided to turn off the lights and the room fell dark. the only sound that could be heard was the loud yet soothing hum of y/n’s fan, and it put the woman to sleep almost immediately. “goodnight, princess.” karina spoke, laughing breathily to herself after y/n didn’t respond. cute. she fell asleep instantly, she thought to herself.

“you might get a kiss in the morning.” karina’s eyes slowly blinked open once she heard this, turning her body to search for y/n’s face. unfortunately, she was only met with her back peeking over the hello kitty bolster pillow. the idol smiled like an idiot, pulling the comforter over her shoulders with a giddy feeling in her stomach. and little did she know, y/n was doing the exact same.

“you better not be lying, y/n. i’m holding you to that.”

<< | >>

taglist (open) — @tzuyusdoughnut @computergbf @1luvkarina @kyakpack @rinapomu @saysirhc @vrtualstar @womanl0ver @c-yerim @yeetaberry127

[n6ptunova]

can’t take it anymore • chris sturniolo

summary: you challenged chris to last nnn to which he confidently accepted. little did he know you’d be making it extra hard for him :)

warnings: suggestive content, making out, mentions of sex. not proofread.

“bet,” he smirked. “come on babe, give me a real challenge.”

you made a bet with chris challenging him to last the entire month of november without doing it. you hadn’t really agreed on his prize if he wins, partly because you’re both just doing this to build up tension and because you had plans to make him lose. but he didn’t know this.

you guys aren’t sex addicts so this challenge wouldn’t be difficult chris thought. that was until he saw you walk through his bedroom door wearing nothing but his shirt. literally nothing else. he loved seeing you in his clothes. he turned to his phone trying to find a distraction.

you noticed this, so you decided to get his attention, “baby can you get my- actually i’ll get it myself,” you leaned over him to reach for your chapstick on the nightstand by his side of the bed, your shirt lifting as you stretch your hand and your bare ass just inches away from his face.

“shit,” he mumbled under his breath. he lightly threw his head back shutting his eyes and trying to think of anything other than pinning you down and getting a taste of you. as you sat back next to him your hand briefly grazed his crotch making him twitch.

“you okay baby?” you asked ever so innocently.

“nice try, it’s gonna take a lot more to break me.” he lied. he wanted nothing more than to have you wrapped around him. but he’s too competitive, he needed to win.

“oh i wasn’t trying to do anything,” another lie, “but hey look at this new chapstick i got its cherry flavoured.” before he had time to even process what you’re saying or doing you grabbed his face with one hand and gave him a short but passionate kiss, lingering a little so he can taste the cherry. he chased after your lips as you pulled away making you giggle.

“see?” he gathered the ability to give a quick answer, “mhm…very sweet.” that night might’ve been the first time he went to sleep before you. he knew if he stayed awake he’d give in.

a few days passed and chris still hasn’t cracked. it was time to really make it hard for him. you put on a short tank top with no bra- so everything was practically on display- along with silk booty shorts. you knew the plan was working because since he came over he hasn’t been able to stop staring at your chest. readjusting himself every time you purposefully lean over when laughing so he gets a glimpse of your tits bouncing. he was starting to get really frustrated.

“chris, what’s wrong? you seem off today,” you inched closer to him on the couch and slid your hand to the back of his neck up to his hair slowly playing with it as if to ‘ease his nerves’ but you had different intentions obviously.

“nah i’m good,” he glances down at your lips then chest and back up to your eyes, “just can’t wait for november to be over.”

“oh,” you straddled his lap placing one hand on his chest and the other cupping his face, “well babe, no one told you kissing me was off limits.” he’d avoided kissing you and pretty much anything else that caused temptation. you brought your face closer to his, lips barely touching, “i missed you,” you almost moan out that last sentence.

you had him in a trance, his eyes low, contemplating, as your thumb rubbed his cheek and your other hand slid down his chest and rested on his stomach just above the waistline of his sweats. he needed one more push, you can tell he’s so close to giving in. you started grinding painfully slow down his growing bulge, “please kiss me, chris,” you whined.

he wasted no time crashing his lips onto yours placing both of his hands on your hips with a tight grip pulling you as close as possible to him. he groaned into the kiss when you continued to grind down on him. your hands tangled in his hair as you kiss him back hard, the kiss quickly becoming sloppy as he shoved his tongue down your throat. you tug on his hair earning a moan from him.

you pulled away to take your breath and the sight in front of you was heavenly. you took a mental image of it. chris looked fucked out, hair messy, lips pink and swollen, mouth parted slightly as he breathed heavily, eyes hazy full of admiration and lust looking you up and down. you wanted more, you wanted him to fully break his streak.

you reached for the strap of your tank top, taking your time to pull it down your shoulder resting loosely on your arm as one of your tits slipped out of it right in front of his face. he almost got whiplash from how fast his eyes traveled down, readjusting underneath you again causing you to throw your head back and moan. you held onto his arms for stability and begged him, “please take it off of me. i need you chris.”

“fuck.” his name sounded like honey dripping from your mouth. he immediately starts sucking on your tit while pulling down the other strap and giving your now fully exposed breast a squeeze. you can feel him getting harder and harder under you. you grip and tug on his hair again making him moan and sending a vibration to your nipple in his mouth. he pulled away looking you straight in the eyes.

“i can’t take it anymore.”

with that he laid you down on the couch, quickly getting on top of you. his knee grazed up and down your crotch as he kissed and sucked your neck surely leaving marks everywhere. he moved down from your neck to your stomach pausing when he reached the waistband of your shorts. he looked up at you and said, “you win. okay i can’t do it anymore i need to fuck you so bad.”

and he did exactly that. it was a long week but totally worth the wait.

[andcars]

# 𝗠𝗔𝗫𝗧𝗢𝗕𝗘𝗥 : 𝗔𝗣𝗛𝗥𝗢𝗗𝗢𝗦𝗜𝗔𝗖 ─── SURPRISE BOX MASTERLIST⠀MAXTOBER⠀REQUEST ME⠀TAGLIST⠀PATREON GUIDE⠀AO3 ⠀⠀⠀>⠀taglist updated ! more tags available !

MAX AND CHARLES CELEBRATE their anniversary, with charles gifting max a box of chocolates. surely the odd taste and the immediate arousal after eating them isn't related to charles asking max about how drugs feel like, right? oh, fucking hell.

DEAD DOVE DO NOT FUCKING EAT . . . # dubious consent, aphrodisiacs, under-negotiated kink, floor sex, non-consensual drug use, light dom/sub, light humiliation, established relationship, top charles leclerc, bottom max verstappen WORD COUNT. . . # 2.3k

────── AO3 VERSION

It came up in an idle conversation in the living room. Charles asked, “Have you ever done drugs?”

Max wasn’t the best teen back then. In fact, he was more rebellious than most, he’d reckon. “Do you wanna do some lines right now, or..?”

“No!” Charles shook his head immediately. “I was just… curious. About how it would feel like.”

“Wel, it feels like drugs. Depending on the dosage, it can feel intense. I’ve tried stronger ones before and I managed to get knocked out a few times. Er, bad  times from before.” He looks at Charles, “Do you… like, really want to know what it feels like?”

“So you’ve done them before?” Charles pointedly ignored his question. “Have you used them for sex?”

The air in Max’s lungs was taken away. “What? I mean, I guess? I got really horny when I took them. So I guess I’ve had… yeah,” he buried himself in the couch, blushing the memories away from him. 

“Would you like to do it again?”

“Okay,” Max stood, looking down at Charles with crossed arms. “Charles, do you have coke up your fucking ass? Just tell me if you do!”

“I was just curious!” Charles defended, arms flailing. “I’m just… asking you if drugged sex feels good.”

“It does! Okay? It does. Are you satisfied?”

“Yes, cheri (dear)! So sit down, you’re blocking the TV.”

So that was that conversation. After that, Charles shut up about the entire drugs thing. Max knew that that wasn’t the end, he just wasn’t sure when it’d continue. The season continued and Max is still  wondering what the hell Charles was trying to do.

Their anniversary comes in. This is one of their fake anniversaries, one that is public centric. Today marks the day that Charles and Max competed in the European open Karting competition. The fucking inchident, jeez. Their real anniversary, when they got together, was far off. This one still holds a special place, being the one where their frenemy status got established.

Max is excited about going on a date with Charles, even booking a reservation for it. While Charles—-Charles is more secretive about his side of the anniversary.

That is until he came home with flowers and a box of Chocolates. “Max,” he calls from the doorway. “Are you here?”

“Getting ready!” he replies from the bedroom. Charles comes in shortly after, greeted by the scent of Max’s cologne. “Hey, you back?”

He doesn’t see what Charles has in his hands yet. Only when he walks to embrace him from the back, the flowers and chocolates dig into Max’s stomach.

“Charles,” he smiles as he turns around, “How sweet. You make me want to fall for you again.”

There is already a slight blush in Charles' cheeks. “Don’t say that, you look so cute when you say it, mon lion (my lion).”

“Open the chocolates. I may have had a little bite already.”

Max takes the box from a love drunk looking Charles. He opens the box—an unbranded box of chocolates, oddly enough—to find four missing. Four little pieces taken away as only six are left.

“You are so—” Max pinches Charles cheeks—”greedy. Couldn’t even wait for me to get my own present.”

“I wanted some too!” he pouts, “plus, we are dating. So why does it have to be only yours?”

“That’s a rule for wearing and exchanging clothes. “ Max takes one from the box, eating it, “This is food. Very different.” He likes the taste, despite the slight tanginess in it. He takes another one just in case it tastes better the second. It doesn’t, but it’s alright.

Charles puts the box away and along with the flowers. “Eat some more, petit lion, I’m just going to change clothes real quick.”

Even though the chocolates aren't what Max would typically eat, it’s a special day. He takes the rest of them quickly. Considering they’re all in small bites, it wasn’t hard to finish them all. 

When Charles comes out of the bathroom, his eyes drift to the empty box. “You ate them all? At once?”

“You said,” Max licks off the chocolate from his thumbs, unbothered by the shocked look on Charles' face. “Was that supposed to be dessert?”

Shaking his head, Charles laughs, “No. It’s fine. Dinner, then?”

“Dinner.”

For the most part, the night is uneventful. Though, Max sees the way Charles is looking at him. Almost as if it was passive, Charles always looks at him with hearts in his eyes. That’s who Charles is. However, there’s something more tonight. If Max isn’t absolutely feeling so turned on by Charles’ obvious devotion to him, he would be worried.

“What’s with you?” Max finally asks after his wine has been refilled. 

Charles shrugs, almost dreamily. “Nothing… I just wanna bend you over and fuck you.”

Max chokes on his wine.

It’s embarrassing and the waiter comes back, asking if Max is okay. He forces himself to be composed while his cock decides to twitch to hardness.

Charles, somehow the most lucid man on this date, simply asked, “Bill please.”

Something about this situation makes Max want to faint.

The ride to the penthouse is silent. Max tries to calm himself while Charles was sporting an erection with no problem. He can almost see the headlines tomorrow—FORMULA ONE FERRARI DRIVER HARD WITH THE FORMULA ONE CURRENT WORLD CHAMPION.

By the time they get to the front door, Max is unreasonably hot. He feels as if his dick is on fire, throbbing with the need for attention. Did Charles’ words really get him off that much? Fuck, he’s starting to feel really lightheaded about this.

“Max,” Charles breathes, suddenly his chest to Max’s back. They're pressed together and Max is softly pinned to the wall. “Max,” Charles’ breath tickles his ear, and his erection is poking Max’s ass.

Fucking hell. Max turns around, wrapping a leg around Charles and grinding them together. He can’t help the moans he lets out, desperate and whiny. His arms are frantic, trying to grasp onto Charles’s shoulders to keep him steady.

“Wait,” Charles says, a moment of sobriety, “let’s go to the bedroom—”

“I don’t fucking care.”

Max drops to his knees, pulling Charles’ slacks with one hand as the other undoes his own. Charles’ restraints die in his throat, captivated by the way Max is greedily taking his cock out.

It slaps on his face, standing erect and dripping with pre-cum. Max breathes in, addicted to the way it fucking smells. He’s shaking with need as he sucks it down with one gulp, erupting a yell from Charles.

He hollows his cheeks, licking the underside of Charles’ cock as he works around his own. His hand is dry, yet he doesn’t care for the slight burn when he feels like he’s about to cum. The taste, the scent, the moans of Charles echoing inside his brain and filling his cock to such lust.

Gagging down until Charles hips meet his lips, Max almost falls over. He doesn’t let go from that position, resulting in sucking and licking Charles. He feels tears well up in his eyes but he doesn’t care. It’s so good. It’s so good. It’s so fucking good.

With a strong hand, Charles pushes Max’s head to the wall. It lets out a loud thump but is interrupted by the lewd thwack thwack thwack! as Charles fucks his skull. 

Max is paralyzed at the feeling. His free hand moves to pull his shirt up, going to pull and play on his perked nipples. Even caressing them feels like he’s going crazy. The hand working his cock is going in pace with Charles, desperately chasing that high.

“...cum.” Charles moans, words unintelligible. “Max, oh, cheri, so fucking—” he gasps and cries on himself as he fucks Max’s mouth. With a few more thrusts, Charles pulls out until the tip of his coc lies flat on Max’s tongue. Max tastes his semen, spluttering on his tongue and coating the walls of his mouth. He can taste him everywhere.

Gripping his hard cock, he doesn’t feel like he came. Yet, he feels the wetness drip down on his hand. When Charles pulls out, he’s still as hard as he was when he entered the penthouse. What the fuck?

All thoughts get pushed out by the animalistic desire to get Charles cock inside of him. It’s dripping with cum in front of his face, enticing him for more. Charles is breathing so heavily and yet Max doesn’t want him to stop. He wants Charles more.

He pulls him to the floor. Charles, caught off guard, practically trips over Max. “Fuck me,” he moans, going on his hands and knees as he shimmies out of his pants.

“Wait,” Charles pants, “Maybe we should really go to the bedroom”

“Charles Marc Hervé Perceval fucking Leclerc! Get your cock inside of me or I’m going to ride you here and shut you up.”

For a few moments, Max can’t hear anything outside of his own heartbeat. Is that normal? His thighs are shaking, almost unable to keep the pose he set for himself. He’s weak in the knees, sweating, chest beating faster than when he is on a race. He’s so fucking turned on that it hurts.

All worries vanish as Charles’ cock prods at his unprepared hole. Max mewls, rubbing and teasing him out of desperation. Charles, the usual chatty one during sex, is reduced to moans and whimpers as he pushes in.

“Yes!” Max yells, head burying on the floor. “Charles… Fuck, yes—god, Charles, fuck- yeah!”

He practically goes dumb with each thrust, a moan letting out in between the force of Charles’ movements. He thinks for a moment about the times he’s had with sex with Charles before. None of them wanted to make him deeply be gutted by Charles.

For a split second, he compares this moment to the hook-ups he’s had with men when he was under neon colours, feeling like he was in the clouds. You know, when he was high.

Charles is relentless, fucking his prostate like it was what he was made for. The constant hammering in time with the drum of his heart. Max almost falls flat, his knees sliding off the floor. But Charles keeps him still, his hand coming to his hips to position him upright. The fingers dig into his flesh, gripping hard and bruising. 

Max wants to pull Charles down, kiss him until he’s feverish. But he can barely move his hands, his arms giving up on even trying to move. With his ass up and face to the floor, he’s being used by Charles like a fuck toy. The only other sign of his life is the way he cries and sobs, feeling so good and overstimulated at the same time.

He’s not sure if he came. But his knees buckled for a second and he shook all over the floor. Charles' pace stammers a little, but never stops. Max gasps, feeling his arm a little despite the numbness. He pushes himself a little up but immediately gets pushed back down, MCharles’ hands pushing his head to the floor.

“Keep still,” he grunted, voice incredibly strained and accent thicker than ever. “Just… God, Max stay like that, I’m gonna cum.” He cries out, fingers pulling at Max’s hair.

He swears that he passes out but he’s all too aware of the coat of white spreading his insides. Charles is fucking whimpering behind him and yet he’s still going, trying to get his cock as deep as possible inside of Max. 

The coldness of the floor is almost painful at the neglect of his dick. Max pushes back on Charles cock, trying to steady himself as well. “Charles…” he breathes out, trying to find Charles blindly behind him. Then he leans down, laying his face into Max's neck, silently panting.

Before he could go crazy over cock again, Max thinks back. “Charles… Why the fuck am I so horny?”

Charles whines and kisses Max’s nape. He doesn’t get away that easily though.

Finding all of his strength, Max pushes Charles to his back. Sitting on top of him, cock still red and leaking, he looks down at Charles with a frown. “Why… what the hell did you do?”

Charles puts his hands over his face, the red on his cheeks only getting redder. “I…. I put aphrodisiacs in our chocolates,” he said with a mumble.

“What?”

“Aphrodisias! Drugs!”

Max wants to kill Charles, yet that would mean he can’t fuck him anymore. With a grunt, Max positions his ass on Charles’ cock again. They both gasp, feeling cum leak out of Max’s ass.

“You’re such a bastard…” he moans, taking said bastard’s cock inside again. “Fuck, I took… so many of them. You little shit!”

Max moans as he rides Charles, holding onto the man’s legs to steady himself. “You’re so needy, so fuciking desperate. Just wanted to wet your cock, huh?”

“Yes!” Charles moans, oversensitive and practically crying. “Yes, cheri, Max. So fucking good. You’re so fucking good.”

“You love th e way I feel, baby?”” he moans, finding his prostate on his own. “Love it when I take your cock… You’re so—you’re so good. So fucking addicted.”

Their words jumble with each other, incomprehensible. Max’s focus was getting off again and Charles was lying there just taking it. In a lust-filled mind, Max is chasing his orgasm again. He doesn’t know when he came and when he didn’t, but he can’t stop fucking himself onto Charles’ cock.

Clenching, Max actually feels his orgasm this time. He curls in with himself, grinding Charles’ dick inside of him as he uses his hand to shoot cum all over Charles’ stomach. He pants. The heaviness is setting in and yet it really doesn’t feel like it’s enough.

Charles is mumbling something below him. “Max… Fuck, I can’t…” his words trail out and Max whines.

“No,” he croaks, voice breaking and attempting to sit up again. “You did this, Leclerc—so fucking finish it.”

🗒 𝗣𝗔𝗣𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗟 . . . anddd we have the first fic for maxtober! i was very giggly about this one, i really can't help with making max a little shit. i don't see him as a dom but charles is def one hell of a sub most of the times. remember check out my maxtober official post to know more ! . ˎˊ˗ ᝰ. ──── 📨 @delululeclerc @hiireadstuff @rtorresblog @tribbisweetdear @jamie2305 @yunnie-f1

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