#reacts in the replies appreciated too

[rafedarling]

Rustyn goes through a phase where he is very clingy towards the reader and wants to hug and kiss his mother all the time and whenever Drew approaches or kisses the reader, Rustyn becomes irritable because his mother is only for him ,sorry if he gets too involved English is not my first language

𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐚, 𝐧𝐨

pairing: dad!drew starkey x fem!reader

summary: drew loves teasing his little buddy especially now that rustyn has entered a clingy phase. he insists on being the sole recipient of your affection, becoming hilariously territorial whenever drew so much as gives you a kiss.

warning(s): fluff, teasing banter, a possessive toddler, mild suggestive humor between parents, and lots of adorable family dynamics.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy @winniemoe

Rustyn just woke up from his nap as you sat comfortably on the couch, cradling Rustyn in your arms. At two years old, your son was growing fast, but right now, he seemed small and vulnerable as he snuggled against you, freshly awake from his nap. His tiny arms wrapped securely around your neck, and his head rested on your chest, soaking in your warmth.

“You have a good nap, sweetheart?” you murmured softly, running your fingers through his messy hair.

Rustyn nodded sleepily, his body still heavy with the haze of sleep. He hummed contentedly, nestling even closer.

From across the room, Drew’s familiar voice broke the peace.

“Baby,” he called, his tone laced with affection.

You looked up to find your husband leaning casually against the doorway, his blue eyes sparkling as they met yours. He wore his usual easy grin, the kind that made your heart flutter even after all these how many years.

“Hmm?” you replied, your lips curling into a smile.

Drew crossed the room in a few strides, leaning down to kiss you. His lips brushed yours softly.

Before you could reciprocate, however, a firm “No!” interrupted the moment.

You pulled back slightly, startled, and glanced down to see Rustyn glaring up at Drew. His tiny hand shot up, attempting to push Drew away from you.

“Excuse me?” Drew asked, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. He crouched down to Rustyn’s level, resting his forearms on his knees.

“Are you trying to tell me I can’t kiss Mommy?”

Rustyn nodded solemnly, his blue eyes narrowing in determination.

“Mommy’s mine,” he declared, his voice firm despite its high-pitched sweetness.

Drew chuckled, straightening up and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, really? Well, fyi ‘for your information’, little man, Mommy was my woman first. Before you even existed.”

Rustyn’s face twisted into an exaggerated pout, his small arms tightening possessively around your neck.

“No. Mommy’s mine,” he repeated, his tone unwavering.

You stifled a laugh, brushing a hand over Rustyn’s curls.

“Drew, stop teasing him. He just woke up.”

“But it’s so easy,” Drew said with a grin, leaning down to kiss your temple.

Rustyn immediately reacted, a whiny “No!” escaping him as he pushed at Drew’s shoulder with all his might.

“Alright, alright,” Drew said, stepping back with his hands raised in surrender.

“I’ll back off for now.”

Rustyn gave him a triumphant look, his little chest puffed out as he settled back against you.

You shook your head, biting back a smile.

“You know you’re just making it worse, right?”

“Yeah,” Drew admitted, plopping down on the couch beside you.

“But come on, look at him. He’s like a tiny bodyguard.”

Rustyn’s eyes darted suspiciously toward Drew, as though ensuring he wouldn’t try anything again.

Drew leaned closer to you, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

“You think he’s gonna start charging me a toll just to kiss my own wife?”

You laughed quietly, careful not to disturb Rustyn.

“Wouldn’t surprise me. He’s been attached to me like glue all week.”

“Bathroom glue?” Drew asked, raising an eyebrow.

You groaned.

“Yes, even bathroom glue.”

Drew whistled, shaking his head.

“Man, he’s really got me beat.”

The next morning, Drew woke up to the sound of giggles coming from the living room. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and padded down the hallway, stopping in his tracks when he saw you and Rustyn sitting on the floor.

You were still in your pjs, your hair loosely tied back, as Rustyn sat in your lap, clumsily stacking blocks. He was giggling uncontrollably.

Drew leaned against the doorway, with a fond smile across his face.

“Well, don’t I feel left out?”

Rustyn’s laughter ceased abruptly as he looked up, his expression instantly turning wary.

“Good morning, you two,” Drew said, stepping into the room.

He crouched down beside you and reached out to ruffle Rustyn’s hair.

“Morning,” you replied with a smile, tilting your head to kiss Drew on the cheek.

Rustyn, however, wasn’t having it. He quickly turned to block Drew’s path, wrapping his arms around you protectively.

“Mine!” he declared, his voice carrying the authority of someone much older than three.

Drew snorted. “Here we go… again.”

You tried to smooth things over, rubbing Rustyn’s back.

“Rustyn, sweetie, Dada’s just saying good morning.”

“No,” Rustyn said stubbornly, glaring at Drew.

“Wow, sassy” Drew said, sitting back on his heels.

“You really don’t want to share, huh?”

Rustyn shook his head firmly, burying his face in your shoulder.

You sighed, giving Drew an apologetic look.

“He’s in full cling mode right now. It’s a phase.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll remember this when he’s a teenager and wants nothing to do with either of us,” Drew said, though his tone was light.

Rustyn peeked out at Drew, his pout softening slightly.

“Mommy’s mine,” he whispered, as if reiterating his claim.

“Alright, alright, she’s all yours” Drew said, holding up his hands.

Rustyn grinned, clearly satisfied with his victory.

Drew shook his head, chuckling.

“You know, for someone so small, he’s got a lot of attitude.”

“Wonder where he gets it from,” you teased, raising an eyebrow at Drew.

Drew smirked. “Definitely you.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. Moments like this were your favorite.

By the afternoon, Drew decided it was time to reclaim some territory. While Rustyn was busy playing with his toy cars, Drew sidled up to you in the kitchen.

You were chopping vegetables for lunch when he slipped his arms around your waist from behind.

“Hi,” he murmured against your ear.

“Hello,” you replied, smiling as you leaned into him.

“You know,” Drew began, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “I don’t think Rustyn’s watching right now.”

You turned your head to look at him.

“Drew,” you warned, though your tone lacked any real conviction.

“What? Can’t a husband show his wife some affection?” he asked innocently.

Before you could respond, the sound of tiny feet padding into the kitchen reached your ears.

Rustyn appeared in the doorway, his eyes narrowing when he saw Drew holding you.

“No!”

Drew sighed dramatically, releasing you and turning to face Rustyn. “Really? I can’t even hug Mommy now?”

Rustyn marched over, his little fists balled up at his sides.

“No, Dada! Mommy’s mine!”

Drew knelt down to his son’s level, shaking his head.

“You’ve got some nerve, kid.”

Rustyn crossed his arms, his pout deepening.

“Mommy loves me more.”

Drew gasped, clutching his chest as though Rustyn’s words had physically wounded him.

“Oh, that’s cold, buddy. Real cold.”

You laughed, leaning against the counter.

“You walked right into that one.”

Drew looked up at you, his expression mock-wounded.

“You’re supposed to have my back.”

“I’m just enjoying the show,” you teased.

Rustyn, now satisfied that Drew had been properly put in his place, turned back to you and raised his arms. “Mama up, pleaze.”

You obliged, scooping him up and resting him on your hip.

Drew shook his head as he stood. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Rusty.”

Rustyn stuck his tongue out at Drew, prompting you to scold him gently. “Rustyn, be nice to Dada.”

“Yeah, listen to Mommy,” Drew said, grinning.

Rustyn huffed but leaned his head against your shoulder, clearly unwilling to share you anytime soon.

Drew stepped closer, placing a hand on your back.

“One day, buddy, you’re gonna regret pushing me away. You’ll want my advice on girls, sports, life…and I might just remind you of this moment.”

Rustyn didn’t respond, already drifting off into another nap.

You smiled at Drew, your heart full. “You know he loves you, right?”

“Oh, I know,” Drew said, his grin softening into a tender smile.

“But right now, he’s a mommy’s boy so...”

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

Drew nodded, wrapping an arm around you both.

“Not for a second.”

[depresssant]

Shades Of Cool

NEGLECTFUL!PLATONIC!YAN!batfam x GN!reader - part l, part ll

synopsis : growing up with a shit mom and constant step-dads and mom's boyfriends, your view on life has grown pretty bleak. you just want to die, since it doesn't seem to get better than this. things can't get any worse, can they?

so reader is very flawed ppl. i’m trying to make this as gn as possible for pls bear with me. asks and requests r open. reblogs are also much appreciated. now that i’ve gotten my e-begging out of the way, enjoy this pathetic excuse of a story

warnings : child abuse, past sexual abuse, yandere, etc

you want to die.

you always do.

staring at the wanna be thug pointing a gun at you, you sigh and roll your eyes in exasperation. perhaps pissing him off will the best way to get him to curl a finger around the trigger. or judging by his temperament, you won't have to do much.

"you? i should give my money to you?"

"who the fuck do you think you are, bitch?" the thug screams at you angrily. his grip gets tighter and clammier. he's not experienced with this. he's probably ganged up with a bunch of thugs to pull shit like this. it wouldn't take much to disarm him. "give me the fucking money before i blow your head off!"

"to a junkie like you?" you are a junkie, too, so you're not too sure about making fun of him for that. "i don't give money to hobos."

that is wrong, too. but you want to piss him off.

"that's it, you stupid bitch!" the thug's stances becomes defensive. his hateful glare is pointed at you while he musters the courage to actually press the trigger. he doesn't look like he'll do it. you've seen countless like him roaming the streets, holding you at gunpoint. he probably won't do it. then again, this is gotham. you don't expect much. either he'll shoot you dead, forcibly take your stuff, flee the scene out of fear, or be dismantled by one of the city's vigilantes. perhaps he'd shoo—

"stop right there!"

damn it.

you think too soon.

a young robin is quick to have the wanna be thug tied up and beat down. you would've questioned why a kid who seemingly looked twelve can do such a thing, but you've learned to not question most things in your life. you merely sigh in disappoint and pick up your dropped backpack before beginning the journey to hell.

"excuse me? wait! where are you headed?"

gosh, his boy-ish voice grates your nerves. makes you clench your teeth. your gaze narrows, but you know better than to react. reaction gains a reaction—one that will never be in your favor. it'll lead to a fight—one that will never be in your favor. you'll end up broken, bleeding, and bruised. now that isn't something in your favor. now you're thinking of favor too much. forcing a smile, you turn around to face the pre-teen vigilante. "yes?"

"are you alright?" he asks with practiced concern. he doesn't actually care. it's probably just protocol.

"a-okay!" the words are hollow. they lack depth. like you. "thank you for your help. i don't know what would've happened to me if you weren't there."

you do know. you wish you wouldn't.

"you're welcome," robin replies with polished words like he's not exactly convinced. "would you like for me to walk you? the city hasn't been safe for some time now."

"when is it ever safe? but that's okay. i live just around the corner, so i think i'll be fine."

"are you sure—"

"completely."

please. why won't he just leave you alone? there goes your plan spoiled by him again. every time you've been in an attempted robbing, he's been there to destroy your chances of getting shot. of escaping. he always does this. this is a repeated cycle between the two of you. he's a flying bird until you shoot him down. your name clearly wants to escape from his lips, but robin nods his head in understanding.

"this seems to happen to you all the time. my wish is for you to be safe."

"this is gotham." the grip on the straps on your backpack tighten. "everyone's gotta go through this. anyways, i gotta go, you know. thanks for savin' me."

"of course."

you don't spare him a single glance. the sky is wrapped up in black clouds heavy with the burden of rain. icy cold wind sings a melancholy tune through the stiff air. the door to your apartment looks like the gates of hell. it's all futile. no matter how many sighs you sigh, how many wishes you wish, and how many curses you curse, you'll still land up in the same fate. without escape.

that is the summary of your life.

taking a few seconds to prepare yourself for the incoming session, you open the door to be met with radio silence. silence is never good. half the time, it means something is brewing for you, and they're taking their sweet time to scare you into thinking nothing will happen. sometimes. not all the time. the other time, it just means he need to rise from his pile of misery first.

the hand of your mother's boyfriend is instantly wrapped around your neck before you can even register why the hell the apartment looks like a tornado hit it. he squeezes so tightly you feel like blood is gushing out of your ears with how loudly they ring. white spots dot along your blurry sight as you struggle to breathe. you can hear a frantic voice telling him to let you go, but you're pushed up more against the wall. this is the norm. doesn't mean it hurts any less. he'll let you go, give you some time to regain your breath, and then rain down bullets upon you.

that's exactly what happens.

your hand goes straight to your neck as your raspy and shaky coughs wreck your chest. he squeezes hard enough for it to hurt but it not show. and then the kicks and punches come. with how much your chest and ribs are struck, you're a bit surprised at how you haven't broken a bone yet. your potential step-father screams at you, but you can barely hear it over the repetition of words in your head. he grabs your bloody face and shout something incoherent before letting you go to kick you.

leaving you in your own pile of misery.

it's normal. yes, it's completely normal. you're used to this. it'll get better. it always does. but you've got the crushing idea it never will.

gotham heights high school—the school you're forced to attend.

the class division is insane to look at, because it's there even from a short and near prospective. how the richest kids got put in a school with the poorest—you'll never know. the only thing you do know is that every one of these kids are pieces of shit. even the ones that pretend to be nice.

tim drake—or shall you say tim wayne—is no different.

even as he helps up the girl who just got roughly pushed to the floor, causing all her textbooks to scatter, you can only eye him with disdain. if he really cares, then he would've beat the shit out of those athletes. but he doesn't. they're all the same—privileged and all. sympathy shouldn't be given to them. not to drake or the wealthy yet somehow bullied girl.

"but y'know what i heard?" your friend drags your attention back to him. zarian leans against a locker lazily, but excitement practically buzzes off of him. "the bruce wayne is coming to our track meet today!"

your other friend, jaylene, rolls her eyes as she applies her eyeliner using the mirror hanging up on the inside door of her locker. she speaks exactly what you're thinking. "only because his beloved son is gonna be there."

"well, still. think about the connections we can make! all the famous people that'll be there."

"keep dreaming. asshat. i put all my money on the attention being on rich the kid. i don't even know why he joined track. varsity, at that, too. there has to be some sort of bribery going on."

an incoming argument is clearly brewing up, so you take in a deep breath to say something, but a new voice beats you to it.

"excuse me?"

you and your two friends turn to face the guy standing in front of you. charismatic, intelligent,  and optimistic—he's an enigma that shines on everyone. tim drake. his black, messy yet somehow in place hair does no justice for his good looks. he's the complete package. rich, good looking, tall, and empathetic. the mere sight of him annoys you.

zarian is the first to speak up. he quirks a brow and offers tim a grin. "what's up, man?"

"you're leaning against my locker." tim rubs the back of his neck. he smiles awkwardly in the presence of the three of you, and it takes your friend a beat to understand what he's saying before moving away.

"oh yeah. my fault," he says as he moved to stand next to you.

the school's very own bruce wayne only shakes his head and tells him it's okay while opening his locker and grabbing a few things. people flock around, waiting for him to be done with whatever the hell he's doing, so they can be back to his side like leeches sucking on blood. he surely can't be this dumb, no? these people don't want to be his friend...

well, it's not as if it's your problem. you wish it is. you and your friends turn to make way to first period, but drake clearly has other plans. he sandwiches himself between you and zarian with a grin of his own plastered on an unblemished face. one carefree of any worry or pain. "so," tim begins. "first track meet of the year, huh? aren't you guys nervous?"

jaylene merely hums in amusement and shrugs. "it gets better. when you've spent four years in track—in front of all those judging people—it wears off. hopefully, you'll get used to it soon."

that is jab, though, rich the kid doesn't seem to catch on. he laughs casually, but even you can sense the anxiety like it was radioactive. ""i hope so. i've sprinted so much i feel like i'll get shin splits again."

you zone out while he has a conversation with your friends. as if drake has ever had experience with track. it took you all of freshman year to just prove that you can actually be a part of the track team, and here tim drake is, parading around about getting on varsity without a single grain of hard work. he's a naturally talented person. good at everything. that's what makes you hate him so much. people like him get everything handed to them just because they're good at it first hand and leave behind people that actually work for it. you want to tell him to buzz off—that he can't talk about how much he's practiced and how nervous he is, but you keep your mouth shut. that is, until he directly addresses you.

tim's eyes narrow at you with comedic suspicion. "you know, you look like someone i know. a lot. the resemblance is crazy."

"eight billion people out there. you never know." your tone is flat, stoic, lacking any bit of emotion.

"gosh, you even sound like him! that's really terrifying."

"well, whoever, it is, i hope i never meet him," you murmur.

your two friends leave for their classes soon, and you and drake find your seats at the back of high school economics. exhaustingly so, you sit together in one of the many desk pairs, and drake uses this opportunity to annoy you any chance he gets. you give off the vibe that you don't want to talk to him. he doesn't get the hint. you don't tell him, though. maybe that's the problems. his shit-eating grin ticks you off when you look in his direction. "what?"

"let's be friends!"

"no."

"what? come on! don't be so cold!" he whines like a petulant child being told no.

"no."

"too bad! you're my friend now."

"tim," you sigh. it's wrong to scream. it's bad to scream. screaming leads to fights. fights lead to you laying in a pool of your own blood. laying in blood leads to missing practice. missing practice leads to less skill. less skill leads to less of a chance of getting the hell out of here. just smile. forgive and forget. know your persona. know who you are. kind. happy. funny. "fine." so you smile with gritted teeth. you smile like you played a cruel joke on him. "we can be friends... i guess."

his face brightens at your fake words like he is just given the the world.

tim drake wiggles his eyebrows playfully and nudges you with his elbow. "you know, i've been trying to get you to say that since school started?"

"really now?"

"really. i'm glad we're going to be friends. oh! should we go out to eat with zarian and jaylene after the meet?"

... there's a chance your mom's boyfriend will get pissed off. he'll probably beat the shit out of you since the track meet would have happened, and you wouldn't need to have an unblemished body for meets. he'd scream, yell, and punch... like his life depended on it... fuck it.

"yeah," you reply shortly after with a firm nod of your head. "we can go to this diner near the theater. i'm sure you'll love the food."

this doesn't mean you hate him any less. he's still rich scum⏤how you're poor scum. he's stuck up, pretentious, and sickeningly sweet. exactly what you hate. you just hope you can have a good time after the track meet. the mischievous glint in his eyes told you otherwise.

"and this is my dad, bruce wayne."

what the hell are you doing?

the sun is setting along the horizon, the air is getting cooler again, and you want to sink into the floor. the plan was to head straight to the diner after this, but rich the kid somehow roped you into meeting his dad?

nausea pools in your stomach from both hunger and the feeling of thousands of eyes staring at you. cameras are flashing at gotham's billionaire as he smiles and firmly shakes your hand. confidence drips off of him disgustingly. his high-tailored suit radiates wealth and money. his stoic demeanor gives off an aura of mystery. you want to lay on a railroad track with an incoming train speeding along the way.

"it's nice to meet you. tim has ranted about his track teammates quite a lot."

there's an eleven year old standing next to him. his eyes are on you like that of an owl's but you neither glance at him or bother to acknowledge him. you just want to eat some food before meeting your doom at that apartment for not placing first like your mom's boyfriend wanted you to. like a goat getting stuffed before slaughter. it always leads down to that. no matter how many times you try to wish it was different. no matter how many times you imagine it to be different. no matter how many times you try to make it different.

"nice to meet you too." you shake his hand as well with a polite smile on your face. polite. calm. gentle. proper. "and yeah, he seems very eager to be on the team."

"of course, of course. well, it is getting late. why don't you come over for dinner some time?"

"maybe tonight?" tim suddenly adds in. at your hesitant expression, he groans in exasperation. "who do you think we are? blood-sucking bats? come on, we can go to the diner some other time!"

you have just met him... you've just accepted being his friend... you aren't the most social person. you've never had much friends, but even you can understand that dinner with the family doesn't happen until the friend and person have come close in a long period of time. jaylene and zarian have other matters to tend to, so it's going to be just you and tim at a diner. not⏤

ding!

your phone's notification's alarm chimes, and when you check who has sent you a message, you feel like getting on the ground to pray to whatever deity for letting you have a moment of peace.

mom: ⏤he's heavily drunk. don't come home.

a part of you is hit with a strong current full of guilt. this is your mother. you're supposed to be there for her through thick and thin. you're supposed to protect her and be her wall of defense against monsters like him. family look out for each other. you have to take care of her... but she doesn't take care of you. this makes you a terrible person. you know that. she'll probably get beaten to an inch of her life and hide her heavy bruises under makeup that was terribly done in a rush. and then, she'll throw whatever object is in sight at you in a fury of anger.

telling you she made too many sacrifices for you. telling you that you're ruined her life. telling you that she should've aborted you like your father had told her to. telling you exactly what you believe yourself. a curse that should've never been born... she'll be beaten within an inch of her life. but you have already lost yours.

after pretending to text her and sliding your phone into the pocket of your sweatpants, you nod with a sigh of joking resignation. "sure. i asked my mom, and she said it's okay."

"wonderful." mr. wayne nods and gestures to the limo you can see in the parking lot. a bit of overkill, perhaps.

honestly, you're still surprised that gotham's billionaire is inviting you to dinner. this man is the topic of magazines, and you're about to take a ride in his limo. how the hell have you ended up in a situation like this? fate is still fucking with you, isn't it?

you find yourself seated next to tim while mr. wayne and his youngest son, damian, sit on the seats to your right. they're talking about something, but once again, you find yourself half listening and zoning out, staring at nothing until mr. wayne's questions pulls you back to reality.

"so how has school been faring for you?" mr. wayne asks in a cool and collected tone.

you laugh lightly and smile as politely as ever. "pretty good. i hope to leave gotham after graduation to study somewhere else."

"who would want to stay in gotham?" tim rolled his eyes, rolling the first place medal between his fingers. "by the way, remember when i said you looked like someone i know? i was talking about my dad?"

your brows rise in both exasperation and annoyance at his claims. now he's just plain, out right trying to make fun of you in front of a billionaire. your shoulders tense, ready to refute his claims, but mr. wayne surprisingly chuckles and rubs his chin while taking a good look at your face. "well, i can see it, but there's eight billion people out there in the world. i'm bound to look like someone. though, i didn't expect for it to be someone as talented as [name] here."

you force a quiet laugh along at the sound of his tone. foreboding. you know tones like this. like he's hiding something that they all know except for you. it means you've made a mistake in even giving in to tim drake's constant begging. why the hell was he so eager to have you become his friend? why is he so eager to maintain a friendship with you? why the hell has mr. wayne invited you to dinner when he's rumored to be mysterious, secretive, and a literal brick wall that nobody can get past?

"you've achieved so much for a child your age." mr. wayne sets his gaze dead on you. "your father must be so proud."

and his eyes glimmer with that same shine you saw in tim's.

ewwww

this was not proofread so forgive me and uh, i will be turning this into a series

um also making a tag list if anyone wants to be a part of it

[flwrstqr]

𓈒 ENHYPEN REACTION WHEN THEY GIVE YOU A HICKEY˒

── ୨୧ enha x f!reader 𝗀enre. fluff, imagines, ot7 works 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽 counts . . . 1076 𝔀arning not proofread, kisses, petnames, suggestive┊DANi NOTEZ ‎⸝⸝⸝ . bye im gonna kms. this fic. ◞[ continue on to . . . library , request ]

! feedbacks and reblogs are highly appreciated and encouraged! PLS REBLOG ♡

HEESEUNG (이희승)

you stand in front of the bathroom mirror, fixing your hair, when suddenly you feel a presence behind you. before you can react, strong arms gently wrap around your waist, pulling you close. You recognize his scent even before you turn around—heeseung.

his warm breath tickles your ear as he leans in to leave a soft kiss on your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. a gasp escapes your lips. his lips linger for a moment, imprinting a gentle mark on the side of your neck.

turning to face him, cheeks flushed, you meet his eyes  "baby," you murmur softly.

his arms tighten around you, pulling you into a warm embrace. "so perfect," he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "i want everyone to know you're mine."

rest of the members below !!

JAY (박종성)

you and jay are wrapped up in each other's arms. his fingers trace gentle patterns on your back.

as you tilt your head slightly to rest it against his chest, jay's lips find your jawline with a feather-light touch. his kiss lingers for a moment longer than usual, leaving a subtle mark.

you can't help but blush as you feel the warmth spreading across your skin. "jay," you whisper.

he chuckles softly, his breath tickling your ear. "oops," he teases playfully, his fingers trailing along your cheek. "I guess I got carried away."

JAKE (심재윤)

you and jake are spending a quiet evening together, lounging comfortably on the couch. out of nowhere, jake leans in and plants a gentle kiss on your lips, catching you pleasantly off guard. his lips linger for a moment before he pulls back slightly, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"you know," he says in a teasing tone, his fingers tracing light patterns on your arm, "I've been thinking about something."

"oh?" you reply, a smile playing on your lips as you meet his gaze.

"yeah," jake continues, his voice dropping to a whisper as he leans closer again. this time, his kisses trail from your lips to your neck, leaving a trail of soft, lingering kisses. you feel a slight shiver run down your spine as he finds a spot on your neck and playfully sucks, leaving a hickey.

"jake?" you breathe out, a mixture of surprise and excitement in your voice.

jake grins, his hand moving to gently cup your cheek. "Can you blame me?" he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "You're just too irresistible."

SUNGHOON (박성훈)

the party buzzes around you, but your attention only on sunghoon. you find yourselves in a quiet corner, away from the crowd. sunghoon's hand rests gently on your waist as he leans in to whisper something playful in your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

suddenly, sunghoon pulls you closer, his lips meeting yours in a gentle yet intense kiss. his tongue sneaks out, gently flicking against your bottom lip. he can taste the sweetness of your lip balm, the faint hint of your favorite lipstick. when he finally pulls back, his lips linger just inches from yours.

sunghoon's gaze intensifies as he leans in to press a trail of kisses along your jawline, down to your neck. he pulls back slightly, his expression a mix of surprise and amusement as he takes in the marks he's left.

"you know," he murmurs, a playful smile dancing on his lips, "I think I might have kissed you more than I should've tonight."

You chuckle softly, feeling a blush spread across your cheeks. "maybe," you tease back, unable to suppress the smile tugging at your lips.

SUNOO (김선우)

you and sunoo are lounging together on a lazy afternoon. sunoo's arm is draped casually over your shoulders, his fingers idly playing with a strand of your hair as you lean against him, feeling completely at ease.

as you talk, sunoo suddenly leans in to press a kiss against your neck. Ii's not just a gentle peck; it's a bit more intense, leaving a faint mark on your skin.

"sunoo," you say softly, a mix of surprise and amusement in your voice.

he pulls back slightly, his eyes widening as he notices the mark he's unintentionally left. his cheeks flush slightly, but a proud smile spreads across his face.

"oh," Sunoo says sheepishly, his fingers gently tracing over the mark. "I didn't mean to... um, leave that. but it looks good i guess,"

JUNGWON (양정원)

you and jungwon as you stand together in a quiet corner of the park. his hand gently cups your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin tenderly as he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a sweet, lingering kiss

as jungwon pulls back slightly, his eyes meet yours, filled with a mischievous glint. a playful smile curves his lips as he leans in again, this time pressing a kiss to your neck. his lips linger just a bit longer, deliberately leaving a mark—a gentle hickey.

he chuckles softly, his breath tickling your skin. "sorry," he says with a playful grin, his fingers tracing the outline of the mark he just made. "couldn't resist."

you playfully swat his arm, though you can't hide the smile on your face. "I can tell," you reply teasingly.

jungwon's grin widens as he leans in to press a quick kiss to your lips. "well," he murmurs against your mouth, his voice filled with affection, "a pretty mark for a pretty girl."

RIKI (西村力)

you and riki are spending a relaxed evening together, sitting close on the couch while watching a movie. riki's arm is draped over your shoulders, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your arm as you lean against him.

during a particularly intense scene in the movie, riki leans in and presses a soft kiss to your neck. His lips linger for a moment longer than usual, leaving a gentle mark—a hickey—next to where he kissed.

"Riki," you say softly, a mix of surprise and amusement in your voice your hand instinctively touching the spot where his lips just were. 

he looks at you innocently, a playful sparkle in his eyes. "hmm? what's that mark?" he asks, feigning ignorance and pointing to the faint hickey.

you raise an eyebrow, trying to suppress a smile. "oh, I wonder how that got there," you reply, teasing him back.

riki chuckles softly, leaning closer until his lips are inches from yours. "maybe I should kiss it better," he suggests, his voice husky with desire.

[hoshifighting]

hihi lyla! i hope you are well 💖 i wanted to ask you to write about svt’s reactions to cock worshipping? tysm for ur ff/imagines ur writing has made me feral for dino 👹

seventeen reacting to you worshipping their cock

a/n: i'm doing fineee! how ab u? the emoji hahahah are you feral 👹 anon then? 😂😂😂 hope u like it, tried to write this from what I understood tho 🤧

seungcheol's eyes nearly pop out of his head when you slap his cock against your face. “this is the most perfect cock i’ve ever seen,” you say, your voice dripping with adoration. “it’s thick, pretty, and made just for me, isn’t it?” his cock twitches at your words, and he knows he’s in TROUBLE. he’s speechless, a desperate moan escaping his lips as he realizes you’re going to use this against him. “fuck, you know exactly what to say,” he groans, his hips bucking involuntarily. “i never knew you could talk like this.”

jeonghan watches you with a confident smirk as you worship his cock. “you’re so fucking perfect,” you murmur, licking up the length slowly. “this cock was made to be worshipped.” “keep talking like that, and you’ll make me cum,” he sounds confident, even a bit cocky, but inside, he’s battling a thousand demons not to cum right then and there. “i didn’t know you had such a dirty mouth on you.”

joshua when you asked to put a bow around his cock, he thought you were joking. but now, as he watches you appreciate his cock with slow, deliberate licks, the ribbon on his base getting wet as you slowly lick around the ribbon, he’s left covering his mouth, his eyes almost heart-shaped as he watches you. “it’s so beautiful, joshua. i could suck it forever,” you murmur. “oh god, keep going,” he begs.

junhui shakes his head, trying to deny your words. “no, jun, it’s perfect,” you insist, caressing him. “you’re perfect.” he tries to shake off your compliments, but it only makes you more intense. his protests turn into whimpers until he finally cums, overwhelmed.

soonyoung tilts his head, watching you rub your cheek against his cock like it’s the most natural and adorable thing in the world. “you’re so cute, baby,” he whispers. “your cock is everything to me,” you purr. “i love every inch of it.” he cums almost instantly, not because of the pleasure, but because he knows your love for his cock is real. “you’re too good to me,” he breathes.

wonwoo squirms from the moment you start. he’s caught between feeling shy and incredibly horny. your hand caresses his cock like it’s a delicate piece of art. he smiles, unable to help himself. “you’re all sweet,” he murmurs. “and you’re all mine,” you reply, planting a kiss on his tip. his smile grows as he relaxes into your touch.

jihoon becomes a babbling mess as you give gentle, loving kisses all over his cock. “your cock is the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen. i can’t get enough of it.” you coo. “you’re gonna make me cum just like this, you know that?” he covers his face, realizing he’s fallen even deeper in love with you. “fuck, i’m feeling so shy right now,” he admits between moans. “but i love you so much for this.”

minghao watches you with a sly smile, caressing your cheek as you worship his cock. “you’re so delicate,” he observes, his voice full of affection. “i’m mesmerized by you.” “i want to show you how much i appreciate you,” you reply, your eyes locked with his. he promises to return the favor, making sure to worship you just as lovingly.

mingyu realizes your blowjob has turned into worship when your mouth moves slowly over every part of him. “you’re taking your time,” he comments, his voice husky. “i love it.” “gyu, your cock is my favorite. i love making you feel good.” he looks at you with adoration, “take your time, my love. i love watching you.”

seokmin finds your cock worship cute, but feels guilty because he can only think about fucking your face as you look at him with those lovingly eyes. “you’re perfect,” you murmur, kissing his length. “i love you so much.” “god, i just want to fuck your face,” he admits, his voice full of lust and really guilty. “but you’re so sweet...”

seungkwan smirks, though you can see the struggle in his eyes. “do you like that? you like to know how perfect your cock is,” you purr. he answers, his voice trembling, “you know i do, baby. keep talking like that, and i’ll show you just how much i love it.”

vernon’s cheeks are bright red as he bites his lip, trying to hold back a moan. he’s not sure how to react to this kind of attention. “oh, really?” he replies licking his lips. “keep talking, i love hearing you worship me.” he admits, struggling with the intense pleasure and your adoring words. he’s clearly having a hard time keeping it together.

chan teases you back at first, but when you say, “your cock always makes me feel so satisfied, chan. no other cock feels as good as yours.” he loses it. his head falls back, and he feels a knot in his stomach tightening “fuck,” he groans. “you’re going to make me cum just from talking, i can’t even think straight.”

[leftoverpages]

Loyalty’s embrace

Pairing 𓅪 Benjicot "Davos" Blackwood x betrothed!reader

Tags 𓅪 jealous and protective Benjicot, small fight scene (no gore), fluff at the end, romance, reader uses she/her but no physical description

Notes: i have been writing for years without posting anything so i have a insane number of fics to post, enjoy lol

Wordcount 𓅪 1.3k

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

The grand ballroom of Blackwood Manor was awash with warm candlelight and the soft hum of conversation. The air was filled with the scent of roses and the clinking of crystal glasses. Lady Y/N stood at the edge of the room, a vision in her resplendent gown. Her dress, a masterpiece of crimson silk and midnight velvet, flowed around her like a river of fire and shadow. The bodice, embroidered with intricate patterns of gold thread, clung to her form, highlighting her grace and strength. Across her chest and shoulders, the Blackwood sigil was proudly displayed, a symbol of her new allegiance and her own fierce spirit.

The fabric shimmered in the candlelight, every movement sending ripples of light and shadow cascading over her. The skirt, full and layered, swirled around her feet like a tempest, the deep red contrasting beautifully with the inky black. A delicate gold chain rested at her throat, drawing attention to the elegant curve of her neck.

She stood there as her betrothed, Benjicot Blackwood, engaged in conversation with several lords and ladies. She found herself alone for the moment, sipping a glass of champagne and watching the festivities from afar.

Despite the grandeur, there was a nervous flutter in her stomach. Being betrothed to Benjicot, the fierce and enigmatic heir of House Blackwood, was both an honor and a daunting reality. Their engagement was more strategic than romantic, a union meant to strengthen alliances and secure power. Still, she had hoped to find some genuine connection with him, something to hold onto amidst the political machinations.

"Lady Y/N, you look ravishing tonight," a voice interrupted her thoughts. She turned to see Lord Cedric, a notorious flirt and known for his less-than-honorable intentions, standing far too close for comfort.

"Thank you, Lord Cedric," she replied, forcing a polite smile and taking a small step back.

He didn’t seem to notice—or care. "It's a shame you're tied down to Blackwood. A beauty like you deserves better," he said, his eyes raking all over her in a way that made her skin crawl.

"I am perfectly content with my betrothal, Lord Cedric," she replied firmly, trying to edge away. But Cedric persisted, moving closer, his hand reaching to touch her arm.

"Come now, Y/N, you can’t tell me you’ve never wondered what it would be like to be with someone else," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear.

Before she could respond, a strong hand gripped Cedric's wrist, pulling him away from her. "I believe the lady has made herself clear," Benjicot’s voice was low and dangerous, his dark eyes blazing with anger.

Cedric paled but tried to maintain his bravado. "I meant no harm, Blackwood. Just a bit of fun," he stammered, taking a step back.

Benjicot stepped between Cedric and Y/N, his posture tense and protective. "Your idea of fun is clearly misguided," he said coldly. "If I ever see you bothering her again, I will not be so forgiving."

Cedric sneered, his fear giving way to indignation. "And what will you do, Blackwood, uh? Throw me out of your pretty little ball?"

A dangerous glint appeared in Benjicot’s eyes. "No, Cedric. I’ll do much worse."

Before Cedric could react, Benjicot’s fist connected with his jaw, sending him staggering backward. The ballroom fell silent, guests suddenly turning to witness the confrontation. Cedric, recovering from the initial shock, lunged at Benjicot with a roar, swinging wildly.

Benjicot dodged, his movements controlled and precise. He landed another punch to Cedric's midsection, doubling him over. "You don’t know to quit, do you?" Benjicot muttered, grabbing Cedric by the collar and lifting him to his feet.

"Enough!" Cedric spat, struggling against Benjicot’s grip. "You think you can control everything? Even her?"

Benjicot’s eyes darkened further. "I don’t need to control her, Cedric. I trust her. Something you clearly don’t understand."

With that, Benjicot shoved Cedric away, causing him to stumble and fall to the ground. Cedric, breathing heavily and bruised, glared up at him. "This isn’t over, Blackwood."

"It is," Benjicot replied coldly. "And if you value your life, you’ll stay away from her."

Guards approached then, at Benjicot’s silent command, hauling Cedric to his feet and escorting him out of the ballroom. The guests slowly resumed their conversations, the tension dissipating, but whispers of the altercation lingered.

Benjicot turned to Y/N, his expression softening as he reached out to her. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice gentle.

She nodded, but her composure faltered, and tears welled up in her eyes. "Thank you, Ben. I didn’t know what to do..."

He stepped closer, his hand tenderly cupping her cheek. "You never have to face such things alone. Not while I'm here."

Y/N looked up at him, searching his eyes for any hint of insincerity. Instead, she found a depth of concern and protectiveness that took her by surprise. She had always seen him as distant, a warrior hardened by duty, but now she glimpsed the man beneath the armor.

"Why do you care?" she asked softly, her voice trembling.

Benjicot sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "I know our betrothal was arranged, but that doesn't mean I don't care for your well-being. I've come to admire your strength and grace, Y/N. I want us to be more than just a political alliance."

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. She had longed for some indication that he felt more than obligation towards her. "I want that too, Ben," she whispered.

He smiled then, a rare, genuine smile that made her heart flutter. "Then let's make it so," he said, taking her hand in his. "Together."

As they stood there, hand in hand amidst the glittering ballroom, Y/N felt a warmth spread through her.

Benjicot glanced around the room, the tension in his shoulders easing. He looked back at Y/N, his eyes filled with a tender resolve. "May I have this dance?" he asked, his voice soft and inviting.

Y/N felt her breath catch. She nodded, unable to speak, and he led her to the center of the ballroom. The musicians, sensing the moment, began to play a slow, melodic waltz.

As they took their positions, Benjicot's arm encircled her waist, his hand warm and steady. Her hand rested on his shoulder, and he guided her with a grace that belied his warrior's demeanor. They began to move, their steps perfectly in sync, the world around them fading into a blur of light and sound.

The music swirled around them, a symphony of emotions. They glided across the floor, each step a silent conversation. Y/N felt as if they were floating, the dance a magical respite from the political intrigue and uncertainty that had shadowed their engagement.

Benjicot's eyes never left hers, their dark depths reflecting a myriad of emotions. In that moment, she felt a warmth spread through her chest, a burgeoning hope that perhaps their union could be more than just a strategic alliance.

The music swelled, and Benjicot spun her gracefully, her dress flaring out like a crimson and black flower. When they came back together, he held her a little closer, his gaze softening even further.

"I meant what I said," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want us to be more than a political alliance. I want to know you, Y/N. To truly understand you."

She smiled, her heart fluttering with a mixture of nerves and excitement. "And I want to know you, Ben."

As the final notes of the waltz echoed through the ballroom, they came to a gentle stop. The guests around them erupted into applause, but Y/N and Benjicot remained in their own world, their gazes locked.

"Thank you for the dance," Y/N said softly.

Benjicot brought her hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles. "The pleasure was mine," he replied.

In that moment, surrounded by the approving smiles of their peers, Y/N felt something shift. The alliance they had been forced into was beginning to transform into something real, something hopeful.

The future was uncertain, but for the first time, she felt truly seen and protected. And perhaps, just perhaps, they could find love in each other’s arms.

[pshcomforts]

ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ | psh.

: ̗̀➛ synopsis: you test sunghoon on his reaction to a girl hitting on him after finding one of those videos on tiktok.

: ̗̀➛ warnings/content: written in third pov. fluffy fluff! suggestive jokes (help y/n). hoon’s a little clueless, and gets hit a lot (help sunghoon). lots of teasing. not proofread.

: ̗̀➛ word count: 1.7k

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

: ̗̀➛ a/n: new formatting for my imagines without song inspirations! let me know if you like it <3

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

y/n and sunghoon were sprawled out on the couch, laying side by side while on separate devices.

the girl scrolled through social media, passing each video until a particular one caught her eye. she let it play, a curl coming onto her lips as mischief formed in her head.

“hey hoon?” she chirped to her boyfriend.

sunghoon nodded his head in response, attention remaining on his phone.

“can i see your reaction to if somebody hit on you at the store?”

he quickly shifted his gaze to his girlfriend with furrowed brows. “what??” he chuckled, slowly processing her idea.

“come on, just like this video.” she shoved her phone into his face, displaying the video of the couple giggling in the store.

a look of disbelief morphed on his face as he turned back to y/n. “am i gonna get into trouble from this?” he asked, raising one of his thick brows.

the girl giggled, softly shrugging her shoulders while replying, “depends on how you react.”

sunghoon sighed, small grin taking over his face. he wasn’t opposed to the idea after all.

“fine, but if you yell at me, just know that this was your fault to begin with.” he teased, quickly leaning in for a peck on the cheek to distract his girlfriend.

“wh— hey!” she wiped off the kiss. “you can’t just say that and kiss me!”

“too late.” he flashed a toothy grin, plastering on his charming fangs as she sent a smack.

“ow, okay!” he draped a hand over the ‘bruised’ hit and murmured, “you can stop hitting me, i’ll do the video!”

y/n huffed out a sigh and rolled her eyes. “my hits weren’t even that harsh…,” she mumbled, allowing a small smile to be seen on him.

“i know, i just wanted to annoy you.”

she reflected his adorable grin, nudging him away as she began propping the phone up.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

sunghoon took up half of the screen, looking busy with his eyes focused on a product that was definitely not his already when y/n walked in.

“oh excuse me…,” she prettily blinked, making him glance up with a little snicker. “can you help me? do you know where i can find this specific soap here?”

the girl let her hands lay on his muscled arms, softly squeezing it, making hoon raise his brows and smirk.

“so.. do you think you can help me?”

he gave a quiet scoff. “yeah, and then maybe you can help me.”

she quickly hung her mouth open in shock. “sunghoon!!” her hand that rubbed his arms smacked him multiple times. “you’re gonna say that when a girl comes up to you??”

hoon giggled, nose scrunched and eyes shut from the joy he got in teasing her. “you rubbed my arms, how else should i have reacted!” he yelled, attempting to shield himself from the continuous hits when the recording paused. “that hurts, gorgeous!!”

“that’s what you get!” she laughed back.

“okay, okay! i got it this time!”

his girl huffed before letting the video start again.

“hey..,” y/n approached him. “i just saw you from far away and you’re just so handsome…, can i get your number?”

sunghoon bit back another smile, trying to stay in character as he cleared his throat, “i know i’m handsome, you didn’t have to come up to me to say that.”

her brows quickly scrunched together in disbelief at his words, though still attempting to be the stranger. “so is that a no, pretty boy?” she blinked her eyes, waiting for an answer from the male who was suddenly blushing.

his cheeks grew red and a smile began to show on his lips. hearing that nickname was definitely not what he was expecting.

y/n lingered her stare into his, enjoying his flustered state when she was usually the shocked one.

he quietly hummed, blood still rushing to his cheeks as he uttered, “… y..yes.”

she quickly tilted her head with scrunched brows. “yes??” another smack to the shoulder. “you cheater!”

sunghoon threw his hands up in defense, smiling at her reaction. “what was i supposed to do?? you never call me pretty boy!” he shouted back, trying to get his girlfriend back into his arms.

she clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes, softly letting out laughs since she knew it’d be his weakness. “so if some girl calls you pretty boy, you’re gonna cave in and say yes??” she tested, crossing her arms.

he huffed out a chuckle, stroking her locked hands with his thumbs. “only if that girl is you.” he leaned in for a kiss, expecting a forgiving and sweet pucker up when she turned away.

hoon plastered on a pout, bottom lip pushing out as his eyes glistened. “baby…,” he tried to sooth, but she only shook head in a teasing way.

“again, hoonie.”

he sighed before letting the video start again.

“excuse me?” y/n tapped his shoulder. “i just saw you from over there, and i really wanted to ask for your number. i think you’re definitely my type.”

the male let out a soft exhale, finding his girlfriend unbelievably pretty. his eyes glimmered with love as he shook his head.

“i’m sorry, i have a girlfriend. she’s all i need.” his head held up high, proud of his answer when he felt a soft hit land on his arm.

sunghoon whipped his head in confusion, making y/n playfully click her tongue. “why are you apologizing for having a girlfriend?” she teased, replaying his words in her head. “and you’re supposed to say ‘leave me alone.’”

he scoffed out a laugh, lips coiling into a grin when letting out a quiet scream. “okay, i got it this time, trust me!”

her eyes squinted in disbelief before complying, clicking record once again.

“sorry..,” she walked close to her man. “but do you know where i can find the—“

before she could even finish her sentence, sunghoon was swiftly moving pass her, not uttering a single word.

“hey! excuse me!” y/n tried to stay in character, stifling back laughs from the cold shoulder she was receiving. “i’m talking to you!”

she reached out for one of his arms but he harshly retracted it back and shook his head.

“sir!” she yelled, unable to hide her wide grins. “sir!! i just wanted to know where—“

“go away!!”

“sunghoon!” y/n laughed, huge amount of giggles escaping her as he turned back with a mirrored smile.

he had a cheesy look on his face, brows raising for her approval while she remained to burst in laughter.

the boy approached her, arms wrapping around his favorite girl as they giggled together, adoring how much y/n found his reaction funny.

“that was good, wasn’t it?” he chuckled, pulling her closer to his chest.

she let out muffled laughs, nodding her head while nudging his arm. “i was definitely not expecting that.”

“so should i always do that?”

“maybe another try.”

he scrunched his nose before sighing and agreeing, pressing the record button.

“hey, you’re a really handsome guy, do you have a girlfriend?” y/n asked, hands playing around with her hair strands.

hoon hid another smile, frowning to stop the corner of his lips from curling as he furiously nodded. “yes i do, her name’s y/n and she wouldn’t like you so please go away. i love her, and i’m all hers.”

the girl softly grinned, almost satisfied with his answer. “she doesn’t have to know about us, you know? i can always come back another time.” her hands reached up to his arms like earlier and squeezed them. “you have nice arms, by the way.”

it took his all to not fold right there, but he stayed composed. “yeah, they’re for my girlfriend, not you, so get out of my sight.” he instantly pushed the hands away, almost shoving his girl a little too harsh.

“ah! hoon!” y/n yelled.

“who’s hoon?? how do you know my name? are you a stalker?” the boy remained in his role, eyes squinting in slight disgust. “you’re weird, leave me alone. don’t talk to me.”

he attempted to push the ‘random’ girl away, hands shoving against her.

when y/n almost took a tumble to the ground, sunghoon pulled her back into his arms as instinct; but with the sudden weight shift, the two actually fell together.

they both yelled in sync, hands gripping onto each other as his person landed on top of him.

they giggled, resting against each other as y/n let her hand lay on his chest with his arm held close by her waist.

“so how was that?” he chuckled, breathlessly staring at the ceiling with his head thrown back.

he heard a soft laugh escape from her as she played with the faint ruffles of his clothing. “you better not catch the girl if that happens,” she playfully smacked his broad chest.

sunghoon scoffed. “you think really low of me.”

“no..,” y/n grinned. “you’re just really nice… and awkward.”

he rolled his eyes at her words before pulling her closer by the waist. “then you have nothing to worry about, pretty girl, because only you know my teasing side.”

her heart fluttered at his response, feeling butterflies rupture in her stomach as she snuggled near his upper body.

“i hate you.” she teased, slapping his arm and earning a deep chuckle from him.

the girl felt his rapid heartbeats while he uttered, “no you don’t, you love me.”

he let her glance up at him, loving the way her eyes beautifully sparkled in any light. his face glowed at the mere thought of her as he leaned in, lips curling and eyes lingering.

a finger hooked under her chin to bring her closer, urging for the yearning kiss he’s been wanting ever since the start of this situation.

their lips finally touched and he automatically grinned, pushing her for a sweeter taste as he held her cheek.

when air became a critical need, they both pulled away, sunghoon smiling ear to ear especially more with his fulfillment of a kiss.

“please tell me that was the last one we’re recording, i don’t know how many more hits i can take until i get a bruise.”

y/n snorted out a laugh before nodding her head. “that was definitely the last,” she murmured, leaning in closer to her favorite person.

hoon sighed in content, loving the way him and his girl were — locked on the ground with nothing but love for each other.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

a/n: wrote and published this with little to no sleep, i couldn’t tell if it was good or not but it was very impulsive.

[yawujin]

how the v3 boys would react to being called a 'pretty boy'

type | short-read , reaction , non killing game, lighthearted, fluff , gender neutral reader.

shuichi saihara ♡

he would be caught off guard

he would begin to smile and not be able to stop

that is, until he clears his throat to stop himself

you could still see his lips though

he looked so funny trying to hide his expression from you

"that's—" he would start, but give up and just let out an awkward laugh

'that means a lot coming from someone like you'

is what he would say but

he's still so very shy whenever you're near

poor boy bless him

rantaro amami ♡

he'd be very accepting towards your compliment

he gets it a lot after all

he's very sweet though so

he would definitely give you a compliment in return

then you become the one who's flustered

"what can i say? it's true (Y/N)." he smiles

internally you're just like '!!!"

but in the end you take the compliment

you just can't deny it

K1B0/kiibo ♡

oh, he's very flattered

believe me

he just doesn't know how to express it

human emotions are hard

"thanks! uh—really..."

how do you even return a compliment?

think, kiibo, think!

all in all, he wants to give one back buttt

he wants it to seem heartfelt and NOT robotic

he'll get back to you later, bringing you a whole thank you card

he's trying his best

korekiyo shinguji ♡

his eyes crinkle, the only visible display of how hard he's smiling under his mask

"thank you very much, dear." he would reply

he's very appreciative towards you

seeing as you can only see a little bit of him because of his bandaged body and mask

he's very happy that you perceive him as pretty

even if you can't see all of him

perhaps

little by little, he'll start showing more off to you

only time will tell

kehehehe

kaito momota ♡

you already know he'll have the biggest smile on his face

he grabs you in an instant and pulls you in for a tight hug, patting you on the back

he kind of pats you hard but it's well-meaning

ofc he sends a compliment right back at you

"and don't let anybody EVER tell you otherwise!"

he tells shuichi and maki about it later

and everybody else too

"guess who's a certified pretty boy? this guyyyy" he points to himself

he's seriously so happy about it

gonta gokuhara ♡

at first he misheard you

he thought you were saying the bugs were pretty

"yes! bugs very pretty!"

you agreed but also repeated yourself

he shyly looks away

a cute lil grin on his face

"(Y/N) think gonta pretty?"

yes ofc

he smiles wider and adjusts his specs

"gonta thank you...very much."

ryoma hoshi ♡

he pulls his beanie down onto his face bashfully

your compliment was sooo unexpected for him

"surely, you can't be serious." he murmured

oh but you were

and you reassured him you were

he sighs, finally getting over that initial embarrassment

"okay...fine."

he accepts it!

"but only because it's coming from you."

(his own silly little way of giving you one back and showing that he trusts your judgement)

kokichi ouma ♡

he'll think you're lying

he'll also give you this funny look like he's trying to get you to admit that you're lying

you already caught onto this

but you say nothing else and just smile back at him

it causes him to break into laughter

"you really crack me up, you know that?"

on the inside, he doesn't know what else to say or how else to express his thanks

so he just makes fun of you and leaves

and once he does

your words just replay in his head over and over

'shit, maybe they weren't lying...'

⋆ ˚｡⋆ my ao3

[furuu]

i LOVE how you characterize sukuna's tummy mouth, it's so cute to give it its own personality !! how would sukuna (and tummy mouth) react to reader giving it some kisses ? ::)

𐔌 . ⋮ You were always curious, always pushing boundaries with Sukuna in a way no one else dared. Even in his true form, towering over you with his four arms and monstrous features, you somehow managed to make him feel… soft. He didn’t show it, of course. His usual sharp-edged smirks and teasing jabs were still there, but there were moments where the fierceness in his eyes dulled just slightly whenever he looked at you.

It was one of those moments now.

Sukuna was sitting casually, legs crossed, his crimson eyes watching you with interest as you sat in front of him. His four arms rested at his sides, and the large, grotesque mouth on his stomach was unusually still—its fanged grin relaxed, as if it sensed no need to be on guard around you.

Your gaze flickered toward that mouth, curiosity bubbling up inside you. Sukuna had never said much about it, but you’d always been intrigued by the way it moved independently, sometimes growling or laughing along with him. Without thinking, you leaned forward, your eyes narrowing in focus as you drew closer to it.

Sukuna raised a brow, watching you with a hint of amusement. “What are you up to now, brat?”

You didn’t answer, too focused on what you were about to do. With a quiet breath, you leaned in even further and pressed a soft kiss to the large mouth’s lips.

For a moment, there was complete silence.

The mouth let out a surprised grunt, its fangs twitching slightly as if confused by the gesture. Sukuna, meanwhile, froze. His eyes widened, and you could feel the shift in his body, every muscle going still as he stared at you in disbelief.

“What… the hell are you doing?” His voice was sharp, but there was an edge of something else in it—something you couldn’t quite place. Was it shock? Amusement?

You sat back, a small smile tugging at your lips as you glanced up at him. “Just curious,” you said, biting back a laugh at the expression on his face.

The mouth on his stomach let out a low, rumbling noise, as if unsure how to react to being kissed. It almost looked like it was pouting, the corners of its lips turned down slightly. You could feel Sukuna’s eyes burning into you, though there was a strange softness behind his usual intensity.

“Are you seriously kissing that part of me?” he asked, incredulity dripping from every word. But there was no anger, no irritation—just a stunned sort of disbelief.

You shrugged, grinning a little. “It’s still part of you, isn’t it? I thought maybe it could use some love too.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, and then—unexpectedly—a low chuckle escaped Sukuna. His lips curled into a smirk, one of his hands reaching up to ruffle your hair in an annoyingly teasing way.

“You really are something else,” he muttered, shaking his head, but there was no denying the hint of affection in his voice. His fingers lingered in your hair for a moment before they trailed down to your shoulder, his touch surprisingly gentle.

The mouth on his stomach grumbled again, almost like it was sulking. Sukuna glanced down at it, rolling his eyes. “Tch, you liked it, didn’t you?” he growls, his hand resting against his own stomach as if to placate it. The mouth gave a small, satisfied huff in response.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at the sight of Sukuna, this powerful, fearsome being, having a strange but oddly sweet moment with the mouth on his stomach. It was surreal—yet somehow, it was exactly the kind of bizarre tenderness you had come to love in him.

Sukuna’s eyes flicked back to you, and for just a second, something unspoken passed between you. He didn’t have to say it, but you knew—beneath the teasing, beneath the incredulous smirk, he appreciated that kiss more than he’d ever admit.

“You’re ridiculous,” he muttered, though there was a warmth in his tone that betrayed him.

“Maybe,” you replied with a grin, leaning forward again to give the mouth one last quick peck.

Sukuna let out a dramatic huff, rolling his eyes as if he couldn’t believe you’d done it again. But as his hands pulled you closer, wrapping you in his hold, the faintest trace of a smile lingered on his lips .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

[jjkamochoso]

How JJK Characters React to You Describing Them as Your Type When Todo Asks

Fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: pretend you’re in a huge group with all of the students present when this question was asked :) also, I went with the anime adaptation of the characters rather than the manga, just fyi!

There’s a part 2 here! in which you react to them describing you as their type :)

Yuji:

“Y/n! What kind of man is your type?”

“Yeah y/n, we wanna know!” Yuji said, excitedly. You figured there was no harm in sharing, Todo and the group were just looking for fun to distract them for a little bit.

“Okay, well I like guys that are average height, not too tall or short. Super strong, of course, with a cute, goofy smile. Oh, and colored hair is always fun too!”

“Oh man, he sounds so cool! If I find any guys that look like that, don’t worry, I’ll send them your way!” Shaking your head and laughing, you got into a conversation with Megumi while Nobara yanked Yuji out of your earshot.

“Yuji! Don’t you realize what y/n said?!”

He rested his chin in his fingers, deep in thought for a few moments before he answered.

“No? Should I have?”

Nobara didn’t hesitate to whack him on the top of the head.

“They literally described you, idiot! Don’t you own a mirror?!” Yuji’s mouth opened in a big smile. This was great news since he had a big crush on you!

“Y/n! I have to talk to you!”

Megumi:

“Y/n! What kind of man is your type?”

You sighed. You didn’t want to join Todo’s antics but you had no choice.

“You don’t have to answer him. It’s a stupid question anyway.”

Megumi’s voice came unexpectedly from behind you. You smiled inwardly at his protectiveness.

“I appreciate that Fushiguro, but I might as well. Let’s see. I like moody boys on the lankier side with dark black hair and dark blue eyes. He has to love animals too.”

You looked at Megumi to see if it registered that you were talking about him. All of a sudden, he sported a deep blush and excused himself from the group. Todo gave you a hearty smack on the back for your response.

“I’m proud of you for baring your soul like that to the one you love,” he said, tears rolling down his face. “Y/n, go get your man!”

You turned to look at your friends who all just shrugged their shoulders. Looks like you’re off to find Megumi then!

Nobara:

“Y/n! What kind of woman is your type?”

You had no hesitation answering this question, you loved to talk about things like this, gossip and crushes and the sort. Besides, it was time Nobara knew how you felt!

“I thought you’d never ask! I really like short girls with short hair. If it’s a vibrant color, that’s a plus. Spunky personalities are the best and I need someone who’ll keep up with me when I go shopping.”

Looking over at Nobara, you saw her jaw drop and you knew she understood what you were getting at.

“Y/n! You liked me and you never told me?! This whole time?!” she shouted, running towards you. You didn’t know whether she was going to hit or kiss you so you took off running as well. Gotta love the feisty girls!

Maki:

“Y/n! What kind of woman is your type?”

“This stupid question again?” grumbled Maki. You were a bit nervous to reply to Todo. You had a huge crush on Maki but she was, well, intimidating, to say the least. To be fair, so was Todo, and you heard what happened to Fushiguro so you went with the safest bet.

“I like girls who are on the taller side and insanely strong. Light eyes, dark hair. Straight to the point, always. And uh… glasses.”

Maki hadn’t moved a muscle and you cringed, fearing the worst. Best case scenario, she would ignore you ever said that. Worst case, she’d beat you up. When she came over and grabbed you by the collar of your shirt, you gulped.

“Y/n. We’re talking about this somewhere else.”

(Spoiler alert: when you were somewhere else, you kissed🤭)

Inumaki:

“Y/n! What kind of man is your type?”

Todo was on your last nerve. Sure, he seemed nice enough, but why should you be expected to tell everyone your personal business like this? In front of both schools’ students, no less! When you were filled in on what happens when you don’t answer truthfully, you resigned to the fact that you were exposing your true feelings to everyone today, whether you liked it or not.

“I like shorter men, preferably with medium length blonde hair, and bright purple eyes. He doesn’t talk much but more than makes up for it with his top tier sense of humor.” You noticed that Inumaki never broke his gaze from you as you spoke. You shuffled over to where he was sitting to explain yourself, but this time it was you who couldn’t find the right words.

“Mustard leaf?” Inumaki broke the silence first, basically asking you what was wrong since you marched over there and hadn’t said a thing.

“Look, Toge, I’m sorry if I—”

He tugged on your sleeve, stopping you. In his hands was a note that read, “I like you too” with a little smiley face at the end.

Yuta:

“Y/n! What kind of man is your type?”

You weren’t sure how to answer Todo. On one hand, you didn’t want to expose your crush on Yuta. On the other, would be it so bad for the truth to be out there? He was a kind person that wouldn’t drop your friendship if he didn’t feel the same way.

“I really like average height guys with longer dark hair and big, dark blue eyes. Personality wise he has to be extremely loyal and caring. Oh, and good with a sword.”

“Sooo… Yuta?” questioned Panda, and you nodded in agreement, your face warming with a blush.

“Wait, me? Really?” Yuta’s eyes lit up as he broke out into a hopeful smile. You nodded again.

“Oh man, that’s great!” he exclaimed, and then sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve liked you for awhile too and I just thought maybe you didn’t feel the same but you do! Which is amazing!” You laughed softly at his rambling. This school year just got a whole lot better!

Gojo:

“Y/L/N sensei! What kind of man is your type?”

“Todo, isn’t that wildly inappropriate to ask your superior?” you answered, a joking tone present.

“Maybe, but we’re curious! Please, sensei?”

“Yeah, sensei! It’s just for fun” Yuji chimed in.

“And it’s a team building exercise to know something so personal! You’re always saying we need to communicate better,” added Nobara. You rolled your eyes playfully.

“I meant that to be an exercise among you children, not me. But I will entertain this for only a moment, so listen carefully,” you told the group and they cheered like their favorite baseball player hit a home run. As you were about to spill your secret, you spotted Satoru leaning against a wall, clearly interested in the secret you were about to spill.

“I like super tall men who are lean but extremely strong. He has to be very funny and goofy but with a kind heart. White hair and striking blue eyes are also a must.”

Maki’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets as she exclaimed, “You like that blindfolded idiot?!”

As the kids clamored at the newfound information, Gojo took that time to approach you and the students.

“Excuse me everyone, but me and my new lover must depart,” he announced, taking your hand dramatically while leading you away to laugh at what just happened.

Noritoshi:

“Y/n! What kind of man is your type?”

You groaned. You really didn’t want Noritoshi to know about your infatuation with him. It was no secret that he had more important things to deal with than schoolyard crushes so you were afraid to confess in case it made him uncomfortable—or worse, dislike you!

“You don’t have to answer the immature question, y/n,” Noritoshi spoke up when he noticed your discomfort. You were grateful for him but you wanted to keep the peace among your classmates and judging by the death glare Todo sent to you two, you’d better start talking.

“Thank you Kamo, but I value harmony among friends so I will answer this for Todo’s amusement only. I like tall men with a bit longer dark hair and gray eyes. Having an honorable character and being good with a bow is the way to my heart.” You felt Noritoshi tense up next to you and you refused to look at him out of fear of rejection. He took you by surprise when he leaned over ever so slightly to whisper to you.

“I was caught off guard by your confession but I can’t say I don’t feel the same. Can we discuss this later?”

Todo:

“Y/n! What kind of man is your type?”

Your eyes went wide when Todo’s booming voice reached your ears. You were super into him but no one knew. You knew you couldn’t fool him with a fake answer, though, and if you were going to feel his hand for the first time, you’d rather it be from holding it with your own than having it curled in a fist and connecting with your face.

“Um… I like men that are extremely tall and buff. Dark hair, tan skin. And passionate, of course.”

“Hm! That’s a great answer! He sounds hot,” replied Todo, smirking, “but unfortunately for that perfect fake man, I’m taking you on a date first because you’re my type!”

You definitely weren’t expecting this!

Mai:

“Y/n! What kind of woman is your type?”

You rolled your eyes. This big oaf is going to jeopardize your friendship for sure. You really liked Mai but you figured she wasn’t into dating and all the lovey dovey stuff.

“Do I have to answer?” you asked, praying Todo had a change of heart.

“No, y/n, we all wanna know. What’s your type?” Mai chimed in, a sly grin on her face. You gulped.

“I… like women that have short, dark hair and dark eyes. If she’s taller than average that’s cool, and I love a snarky personality.”

“No way!” exclaimed Momo when she realized who you were talking about. You refused to look anyone in the eyes out of embarrassment and fear. What you weren’t expecting was Mai grabbing your hand and leading you somewhere else. Hopefully it was to talk and not get beat up!

Momo:

“Y/n! What kind of woman is your type?”

You huffed in annoyance. There were always some sort of antics with this guy! You had liked Momo for awhile now but she was like an enigma to you. You could never get a good read on her so maybe telling her how you felt outright would be a good thing?

“I really like girls with blonde hair and blue eyes, and short, too. Having a cute personality is a plus as well,” you answered, hoping that was straightforward enough.

“Wait a minute, that sounds exactly like me!” Momo exclaimed, blushing slightly. You sheepishly nodded your head.

“Because it is. I have a crush you.”

The whole group erupted in a chorus of “aww’s” and “how adorable.” You were nervous that you had accidentally made her uncomfortable but your fears disappeared as she came over to sit next to you. When the students were distracted by another topic, you felt Momo’s hand rest over so slightly on top your own and you knew you made the right decision to confess.

Miwa:

“Y/n! What kind of woman is your type?”

Before you spoke, you met eyes with Miwa. It almost seemed as if she was anxious to hear what you had to say!

“Girls with dark blue eyes and are average height are my type. I also really like girls with kind hearts and are down to earth. Blue hair isn’t too bad, either,” you finished, smiling nervously. Both of you were blushing messes while Mai scoffed “Get a room!” Your classmates were just happy that the secret was out in the open—they were tired of you two dancing around your feelings for each other!

[yuvany]

#ENHYPEN GETTING THE SILENT TREATMENT 𝜗𝜚

Pranking 𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 by giving them the silent treatment . . .

OT7 enhypen x female reader ಌ GENRE / WARNING(S) :: fluff + comedy + est relationship + not proofread # # WC :: 1164 && CHECK BOX !!

( reblogs + feedback always appreciated !! )

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

You and him were walking outside hand in hand in the nice atmosphere that the late evening offer. Heeseung led you two to a bench where you two rested your legs for a while. You were texting one of your friends, and they gave you the idea to give your boyfriend the silent treatment to see how he'd react, and you agreed on it. "Wanna go to this cafe, babe?" Heeseung asked, showing you his screen. You nod and Heeseung stands up, taking your hand. While you two walk, he is the one talking, not wanting it to be awkward in any way. You, of course, listen to every word. "Why are you so quiet?" He asks, stopping in his tracks. You are silent and tug on his arm to continue walking, but he is persistent. "Tell me first. Are you pranking me?" You're shy to admit he is correct, but nod your head, just wanting to go to the cafe that he mentioned. "You're right... Can we go now?" You ask, and Heeseung smiles brightly before walking again, "of course."

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆

Would think he did something wrong, and then hide himself away to think about what he possibly could've done. This gives you no opportunity to actually carry out your plan even further. As you walk around the house, you seem to find it eerily quiet, wondering where your boyfriend was. As you passed by a closed door that suddenly opened right after you walked by. You turned your head and saw that familiar face that you missed. Jay, too, looked at you, deciding to ask a question. "Love, are you ignoring me?" You feel bad for him, but you fight your instincts of answering by turning around and continuing your inspection even though you found him already. "Have I done something?" His voice is hoarse as he asks this question. You start to feel bad, so you face him again, explaining that it was just a prank, "It was a prank, baby. Sorry for worrying you." You hug him, and he hugs you back while rubbing your back lovingly and kissing the crown of your head. "You scared me."

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍

"Babe, can you pick up the phone?" Jake calls from his room. You walk towards the sound of the phone ringing, and pick it up. You later walked back realising it was a prank call, and as you pass by Jake's room once more, he asks who it was. "Babe, who was it?" He was basically shouting now when you didn't reply. He shoots out of bed, and rushes over to you curiously to repeat his question. You see him in the corner of your eye as he makes his way around the kitchen island, but you turn your gaze down. "Sweetheart, who was calling?" He asks, his arm loops around yours, slightly tugging you towards him in a clingy manner. When he realises that you won't reply, he says, "Do you hear me?" You ignore him with a shrug, and then Jake has had enough of this and pokes your waist, which you pull away from because it tickles. He then chases you around, tackling you down until you shout, "Ok, stop! Jake!" through laughs.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

Let's be honest, he wouldn't even notice it at first. Of course he would sometimes think you were extra quiet, but he thought you just wanted some lonely time, or you were just not in the mood to talk, but when he finally realises that you're ignoring him, he'll do the same towards you. You were hoping to get a reaction out of him when you ignored him calling for you and then when he asked you to hand him the remote, but I feel like he'd already figure out that it was a prank by then. The day continued on like that in silence, and eventually, you couldn't bother with the prank anymore and quit. Sunghoon sat on the couch, not noticing you entering the living room yet. You crawled into his arms slowly, and he was quick to put his mobile to the side, and wrapping his arms around you instead. "Are we done with the games now?" He asked teasingly, the smirk evident in his tone. "You're no fun," you complained.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎

Saw you pass by his room and chased after you. "Hello, Love!" His voice is cheerful as he clings to your back with a tight hug. You lightly tap his arms that engulf you from behind, and you feel his hair strands tickling your chin. "How have you been, Dove?" He waits for your reply, but as he realises you didn't answer him, he repeats the question once more. "Y/n? How have you been?" This time, Sunoo removes himself from the hug, and is now facing you with one eyebrow raised. You walk past him, and Sunoo stands there confused as to why you're silent. He chases after you again, tugging on your sleeve impatiently. "Are you ignoring me? Please don’t...," Sunoo looked at you with big puppy eyes, and you could resist any longer, so you gave in and hugged him tightly. "I'm sorry baby, it was just a prank." You explain, and Sunoo laughs with you.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍

At first when he realised you haven't spoken to him the whole day, Jungwon attempts to spark a conversation again, but you ignore him while still being focused on your phone. "Sweetheart, we haven't spoken the whole day." He states, and nudges you softly. You don't reply, and Jungwon just sits there, watching you with big eyes, anticipating for something to occur, perhaps for you to look his way and maybe start talking with him? When he realised that you won't, he is stubborn and takes your phone out of your grip quickly with a sly smirk on his face. "Want it back?" You nod, for the first time looking his way. "Then say please," you sigh and decide that it's enough now. "Please, give me my phone, baby." You mutter.

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈��𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈

Saw that you tried reaching for something from a tall shelf and helped you by taking it down for you. "Where's my thanks?" Riki asked, not handing you the book yet. You looked to the side and sighed before attempting to reach for it out of his grasp. In response, Riki teased you by raising his arm even higher, to the point you had to stand on your toes. "Are you ignoring me?" You couldn't help but find his tone funny, so you accidentally let out a giggle. "Then I'm not giving you this." He turned around and walked away with your book. "Hey, babe, please give it to me, I need it!" You called out suddenly, knowing you needed that for a project, and he twirled around and placed placed it in your grasp, your fingers touching, before threading your hair with his hand as if he had wanted to do so for so long.

[6gumi]

can’t afford to fail.

synopsis ﹒your arrogant n self centred professor helps you get your grade up !

pairings ﹒dr. ratio x f!reader

cw ﹒nsfw MDNI. professor x college student 、mild age gap (dr ratio’s abt 28 while reader is 19-20) 、degradation 、desk s3x 、he’s a lil mean here :( 、use of nicknames 、pussy slapping (there ws like . . two!) 、t!tplay 、dirty talk 、reader implied 2 be smaller 、slight spanking 、unprotected s3x

note ﹒been too long since i wrote anything n i thought abt this . . i’ve BEEN thinkin’ abt it for awhile n i jus get so . . i get so giggly thinkin’ abt it LMAO i hope this is fine ! let’s hope i proofread in time ! reblogs r highly appreciated, feel free 2 send me an ask ! — millie ♡

“utterly ridiculous.” dr ratio replied mockingly, an eyebrow raised as his taller form towered over yours, his gaze on you was firm and serious, like he was trying to scare you away. “do you see what i’m seeing?” he raised up one of your marked worksheets you handed in the other day, in pure honesty . . it wasn’t even your fault! you wanted to curse at him for not even bothering to give you and your fellow students more time to study, it was his fault in the first place for making you all stress! that’s what you wanted to say, but he would’ve had your head for that.

“ . . . yes prof.” you muttered with a small nod.

“tell me what you see then.”

you glanced up at him, your eyes slowly trailing from him to the paper he held . . failed?! again?? gosh . . you knew this would happen either way, you wanted to scream, clench your fists and beg for another retake but knowing the type of professor dr ratio was, you knew you weren’t getting any of that, no . . not anytime soon.

“ . . i didn’t do that good.”

“—didn’t do that good is an understatement, you did terrible. your idiocy is all i see written on this fail-worthy of a sheet, your work habits in class are worse than those other idiots i teach.” the professor sighed and steepled his fingers, leaning forward. “why are you falling off in my classes? are you afraid of asking me for help, is that it?” his eyes narrowed with a condensing glare, the tension in the room grew heavier.

yeah well . . if i ask you for help, you’d insult me and get annoyed anyways, was what you wanted to say. i mean, you weren’t wrong . . you were certain dr ratio had some sort of short temper or something, no matter what he says or what you do, he is the last person you’d ask for help. “someone with major idiocy like you should be grateful i’m taking time out of my day to speak to you about your dismissive performance, you know how much people would kill to have my attention right now?" dr ratio’s voice took on a harsher tone as he watched you react to his words. “even your classmates are so much more adept, why are you even in my class?"

your body jolted at his words, no matter how tough you tried to act you were secretly trying your absolute best to hold back the tears that threatened to leave your eyes, it was hard to take in his words . . it’s hard enough to not be his top student!

dr ratio’s eyes widened slightly seeing how your body jolted at his words, he took a quick breath and thought about how he would address the situation with you with a more gentler approach. "please, humor me." he took a deep breath, trying to be patient and understanding with you. he was already noticing a slight difference in your behaviour. "i’ve spent nearly a decade teaching in this institute," he continued in a slow yet low tone, “i promise you, i know what I'm talking about. how about i help you right here right now and let’s see where to go from there, got it? tell me what you don’t understand and what you do understand.”

“ . . alright.”

— ♡ —

. . it seems you both had a different idea of “helping”. you hated yourself for enjoying it, he was your professor for heaven’s sake! now you were on your knees, your mouth wrapped around his wet cock as soft grunts left his lips. you couldn’t lie . . he looked absolutely stunning from this angle, the way he threw his head back when you swirled your tongue around the slit of his dick. dr ratio groaned, his voice deep and husky as he leaned closer to see how well you were sucking him off. " . . . u-ugh . . fuck, this mouth of yours needs to be punished . . considering how many times you talked back to me in under an hour.”

before you could pull away from his cock on your own, dr ratio’s free hand slipped downwards, grasping firmly at your head, tugging it upwards. you were roughly pulled away with a gasp, you were almost out of breath as your professor pulled you closer against his chest. “a slut like you needs to learn how to be fucked properly. maybe that’s how i can help you, fuck the information in you.”

he leaned down, his lips brushing against your neck before trailing upward, his tongue tracing along your jawline and then claiming your lips forcefully. his hands moved downwards, his cock throbbing even harder in his pants. he stepped closer, reaching out to fondle one of your breasts, squeezing it softly before running his thumb over your hardened nipple . . massaging them firmly as your tongues tangled together, your moans muffled by his mouth. dr ratio’s eyes widened in awe as he pulled away from your lips, a line of saliva connected your lips and his as he admired the sight of your breasts, now fully exposed for him to feast his eyes upon. he bit his bottom lip, unable to tear his gaze away from them as they were truly a sight to behold, heavy and perky, nipples erect and begging for attention. “tell me, [name],” he licked his lips, reaching down to flick his tongue against one of your nipples.

"why can't you be as skillful as the others? do you not have the intellectual capacity?" he smirked against your nipples, watching you intently as he waited for your response. “you’re nothing but an idiot, are you not? can’t even pass any of my damn classes.” he stepped closer to you, placing one hand on your shoulder, gently pushing you towards his desk. "undress yourself slowly," he commanded, his voice husky with desire.

“ . . prof, we can’t do this . . i’m your student, you’re my professor, you’re seriously overdoing this—“

“do you want to fail my class completely or not, princess?” dr ratio muttered, raising a brow. “do you even understand the situation in front of you? you’re a failing student and should be begging me for help.“ he grabbed you by your thighs, roughly slamming you on top of his desk. “you know what you should be doing? you should be on your fucking knees, groveling for me to give you a second of my attention. instead, you're refusing to let me help get your grade up. besides . .” he leaned in closer against your ear, bringing his voice down to a whisper . . “i know that a dirty slut like you is enjoying this as much as i am.” he raised his hand, slapping your cunt that was clothed by your pink panties as hard as he could. “show me this pussy or it’s an automatic zero.”

your eyes flashed with shock and a hint of pleasure, dr ratio’s voice seething with contempt as it sent shivers down your spine . . it was obvious he wasn't going to let this go easily. you gave in . . wrapping your arms around his neck, “ . . prof . .” your face flushed red, nuzzling against his neck. “can’t . . ‘s embarrassing—“

“veritas.”

“ . . pardon?”

“call me veritas, moan it while i fuck you.”

your professor’s heart skipped a beat at his own boldness, his hand slipped down towards your lower region, grasping firmly at the hem of your skirt and tugging it upwards, revealing your lacy pink underwear underneath. with one swift motion, he ripped them apart, exposing your wet glistening pussy to his hungry eyes. "sit on the edge of the desk," he ordered, his voice low and commanding. "spread your legs wide and let me see that pretty cunt.”

you bit your lip, gazing up at him with those sweet eyes of yours as you were hesitant to even do anything under those hungry eyes of his own, “ . . do i have to? that’s . . that’s too embarrassing.”

“do you want to completely fail my class or not?”

wincing at his words, you slowly obeyed his demands . . spreading your legs with a sense of embarrassment and shame as he humiliated you completely, it was like . . he wasn’t even aware he was humiliating you! spreading your legs in front of your own damn professor? you didn’t even know what was going on in your mind at this rate! but yet . . your pussy pulsed around nothing, you craved for this and you hated that the most. the dark haired male reached down, unfastening his own pants and boxers in one swift motion, revealing his massive cock, veined and thick, dripping with precum . . it stood tall and proud, ready to claim whatever it desired, you weren’t even sure if it could fit.

"turn around," he ordered, keeping his tone low and seductive. "show me your ass." you obeyed, slowly hopping off the desk as you bent over . . your ass in his full view. your body flinched, eyes wide as he gave your cheeks one mean yet harsh slap. “try and guess how many times you nearly failed my class.” his hardened member brushed against your entrance teasingly, he couldn't resist anymore. with one swift motion, he positioned himself between your spread legs, aligning his cockhead with your tight hole from behind. “go.”

he pushed slowly, his head sliding past your tight ring of muscles, eliciting a soft moan from you as your eyes rolled back . . your pussy spasming around his thick cock almost instantly . . it was like it belonged there. “p—prof . .”

“ah ah.” he shoved his fingers inside your mouth, pressing the pad of his fingertips against your tongue. “what’s my name, slut? tell me. what did i say.” dr ratio pushed forward, stretching your hole even wider than before . . filling you up inch by agonizing inch. you couldn’t lie, each thrust of his felt like heaven, as if you and him were finally becoming one.

“v—veritas . .”

“good fuckin’ girl.” once fully buried to the hilt, he paused, taking a moment to savour this forbidden moment. his hands gripped your waist tightly, holding you steady as he began to move rhythmically in and out of your wet cunt, hitting your g-spot with a sense of urgency and desperation each powerful thrust. “guess how many times you almost failed my class, come on . . speak up, or are you giving up already?”

“ngh . . three?”

“wrong.” SLAP!

he ran his hand down the fat of your ass, slapping it loudly as you could feel the sound reverberating through the entire room . . your tongue lolling out your lips as another slap came down, even harder than the first. “keep guessing.”

“ah!— u-uhm . . five?” you moaned at the mere feeling of him picking up the pace, his hips rocking in sync with his thrusts. his cock throbbed harder inside your tight channel, stretching and massaging your insides in a way that drove you both wild with pleasure, it’s like . . he was trying to fuck you dumb, fuck you till you couldn’t think. “wrong again.” his voice ran through your ears, moans and gasps filled the room yet muffled by each loud thrust. sweat trickled down your professor’s back as he increased his rhythm, pounding into your hole faster and harder, building towards climax until the tip of his cock slammed against your deepest areas.

his hands roamed freely over your body, cupping your breasts roughly, pinching and tweaking at your nipples until they stood erect and hardened once more. dr ratio bit down on the flesh of your neck, leaving a mark that would serve as a reminder of this moment later on. "see how good i’m fucking this pussy?” he growled, his voice hoarse with desire. “come on, keep going . . stay focused.” he was lost in the feeling of your cunt, pounding into you like it was his last as his thrusts become even stronger as he reached his peak again. dr ratio groaned loudly, his cock throbbing violently inside you as a huge glob of cum shot out, yet his thrusts never yielding.

“mmh . . ah! veritas . . please!” his hands roamed over your body, trailing along your arms and shoulders, stopping at your pretty breasts once more. "fuck, this is the best pussy i’ve ever fucked.” he panted, pulling on one nipple, then the other in turn. "so fucking perfect." your moans and gasps became louder, filling the room with a symphony of pleasure. your bodies moved together in sync, hips rocking in harmony with his thrusts.

SLAP! “come on, baby.”

“s—six . . seven?! fuck . . ah!” piles and piles of paper fell off his desk when you were pushed forward, back arched with your eyes rolled back. “veritas . . i think this is enough . . someone’s gonna hear—“

veritas chuckled mockingly, his eyes glowing with malice as he grabbed hold of your chin firmly, tilting her head back in submission. his lips crashed forcefully against your own, tongue thrusting into your mouth roughly, claiming ownership over your body. "oh, i think you and i both know this is far from enough," he growled between kisses, his hands roaming freely over your lithe figure. "you know damn fucking well . . you don’t want me to fail you, right? so, accept it. your body’s damn made for this, princess . . see how well your body is responding to my cock? c’mon. look at me directly and tell me straight up you don’t enjoy this.”

drawing out soft whimpers from your throat, your professor continued his dirty work on your sensitive spots until you squirmed helplessly beneath him, unable to resist any longer . . your voice stuck between your throat as you couldn’t even find the right words to retort, accepting the way he took you against the desk, his rough thrusts forcing you to push your body against the cold surface as a puddle of cum formed on the floor from your professor’s previous orgasm, so fucking messy . .

“my point taken.” he savoured the feeling of being deep inside your warm, wet hole . . he knew he was gonna have dreams of this pretty cunt of yours, each time he pulled back, a low growl escaped his throat as your bodies slapped together, creating sounds of lustful pleasure. veritas’ hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you steady while his cock continued its relentless exploration of your gummy walls. in sync with each thrust his hips rocked against yours as well, grinding his pelvis and your ass together, the sensation was unlike anything either of them had ever experienced before . . raw, primal, and addictive. you couldn't think but respond to him with your body, your moans becoming more pronounced and needy.

“listen to me,” dr ratio gave your ass another mild smack. “you’re gonna take this dick while you tell me exactly what you’re having trouble with in class, understand? ‘gonna fuck everything through your head just like i said . . afterall . .”

“you can’t afford to fail, can you?”

[b0r3dtod3ath]

Hi, just read one of your fics and I loved it. So I wanted to make a request. You can choose the driver you think fits best. But just a fic about the read being an introvert, she’s not shy. For example she doesn’t go to the after parties with her bf, or attend all the events. She loves hanging out with people but her social battery always runs out. Idk if that makes sens

Thank you, and hope you have a good December:))

♡ navigation / request info / f1 masterlist / tennis masterlist

♡ warnings: mention of alcohol

♡ a/n: im so happy for mclaren!!!!! thanks for the request! im on a writing streak so request are heavily appreciated :)

The music pulsed from the next room, the bassline a steady thrum that vibrated through the walls of the hotel suite. Lando had kissed your cheek before disappearing into the lively afterparty, promising he’d check on you soon. You had encouraged him to go, of course. He thrived in these settings - at parties, surrounded by friends, laughter, and celebration. 

But you had a limit. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t like parties - you would usually dance a bit, laugh and even talk with some people. But after an hour, each passing minute feels like torture. The club filled with fun turns into a small room with drunk people, everything gets too loud and suffocating. And Lando understood that, he appreciated that sometimes you would come out of your shell just to celebrate his win. He always quickly noticed when it started getting too much, almost like a sixth sense. He would end his party earlier just for the sake of your comfort. 

You loved that but you didn't want to limit him like that. That’s why you two agreed that it's okay if Lando goes alone. You trust him and he understands that you wouldn’t be bored alone. Now, you sat curled up on the plush couch in your suite, a book propped open on your lap. Your phone buzzed softly against the cushion beside you. Picking it up, you saw his name flash on the screen.

Lando: "You okay? Need anything?"

You: “No, I’m good :)”

Lando: “readin?”

You: “Of course” 

You: “Why are you texting me btw? Shouldn’t you be partying?”

Lando: "Because I want to. Also, Max just spilled his drink trying to argue with George. You’re missing a show."

You laughed softly,

You: "Sounds like prime entertainment. Take notes for me?"

Lando: "Actually, I’m recording it."

You react with a laughing emoji and get back to your book. 

Meanwhile, Lando stood by the bar, a glass of a colorful drink in his hand. The party was in full swing and he couldn’t help but let the energy of the room lift his already good mood.

Max sidled up beside him, nursing a beer “Where’s your other half?” he asked, scanning the room. Lando chuckled, “They are upstairs. Thought about coming but decided to sit this one out”. “Ah, the infamous social battery,” Max replied with a knowing nod. “They are great, though. I don’t know them well but it seems like they always put in the effort for the important stuff”. “Exactly,” Lando said with a smile. “They came to the track, cheered me on, and hung out after the podium. That’s more than enough for me”. 

Across the room, Carlos caught sight of the two and made his way over, drink in hand. “Hey, where’s your partner? Thought I saw them earlier,” he said, a slight slur betraying how many drinks he’d already had. “You did,” Lando said. “They came by for a bit but left before the party started. You know how it is - they love everyone here, but only for so long”. Carlos nodded. “They are smart. These things can get overwhelming”. “They are not shy, though,” Lando clarified, knowing how easily people misunderstood her. “They are great with people, but they know when they have had enough. I think it’s awesome”.

Daniel, overhearing the conversation, joined in with a laugh. “It’s true. I remember at that one dinner, they had us all cracking up, and then two hours later, they were like, ‘Okay, I’m done. Goodnight.’ No hesitation”. Lando grinned, proud of them in a way he couldn’t quite explain. The group laughed, and Max clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, give them our best. And let them know they are welcome anytime - even if it’s just for an hour”. “Will do,” Lando said, a warm feeling settling in his chest. It was always nice to see how much they liked you, even if they didn’t see you often.

“Lando?” you called, surprised. “Expecting someone else?” he teased, stepping into the room with a grin. His hair was slightly damp with sweat, and his shirt was rumpled in that charming, carefree way he always managed. “I thought you’d stay longer.” you say setting down your book. “I could tell you were getting bored without me,” he said with a wink, crossing the room to sit beside you. “You know I’m fine on my own,” you said softly, though the warmth of his presence already made the quiet room feel cozier. “I know,” he replied, leaning over you. “But I missed you. Plus, Max started singing, and that’s when I knew it was time to leave". You laughed, hugging him. “You didn’t have to come back early, you know". He pressed a kiss to the top of your herd “I know, but I wanted to”. “Lando, go shower, you’re sticky!” you chuckle feeling the sweat and champagne on his skin.

Abu Dhabi, 2024. Last race of the season.

The celebration was in full swing, with champagne flowing and music blaring. You found yourself enjoying the party, maybe due to McLaren’s victory. You danced with Lando, laughed with his coworkers and even joined in a few toasts.

You were standing next to the bar, chatting animatedly with Lily and Carmen. You were laughing at something one of them said, your face lit up in a way that always managed to take Lando’s breath away. You weren’t one for late nights or crowded rooms, but tonight, you seemed to be having fun, and he couldn’t help but feel a little proud - and grateful - you’d come.

“Look who’s finally dragged them out,” Max teased, nudging Lando as they both watched you from across the room. Lando grinned, taking a sip of his drink. “They are here on her own terms. Didn’t take any dragging”. Max raised his eyebrows in mock disbelief. “Sure, mate. But seriously, it’s good to see them”. As if on cue, you turned your head, catching Lando’s eye. You gave him a small smile before returning to your conversation.

Lando waved you over, and without hesitation, you excused yourself from your conversation and made your way to him. “Everything okay?” you asked as you stopped in front of him, your voice light. “Yeah,” Lando said, his hand instinctively finding its way to your waist. “Just admiring how good you are at stealing the spotlight”. You laughed. “Hardly. I’m just trying to keep up with your crowd”, “You’re doing more than keeping up,” Max interjected, leaning around Lando. “You’re running the show”. You grinned at the compliment, then turned back to Lando. “You didn’t tell me Max got funnier after a few drinks”. “I didn’t know he did,” Lando shot back, earning an exaggerated gasp from Max.

The party continued, and after a few more drinks, you started to feel a pleasant buzz. You found yourself becoming more clingy with Lando, your arm around his waist and your head resting on his shoulder as you chatted with the others. Lando noticed the shift and smiled gently. “You’re getting a bit tipsy, love,” he whispered in your ear. “Maybe it’s time to head out?”. You nodded, your eyes a little hazy but happy. “Yeah, let’s go”. 

Arm in arm, you made your way back to the hotel room, both of you (not so) slightly more tipsy than when the night began. Once inside, you sat on the bed, big smile on your face as Lando joined you. “This was such a great night,” you said, your words slightly slurred but filled with genuine happiness. “It really was,” he agreed, wrapping his arms around you. “And now, we shower and we can just relax”. You snuggled closer, feeling the comfort of his embrace. “I love you, Lando". “I love you too,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now, let’s get some sleep. We can celebrate till March”. 

december 9, 2024

[briefinquiries]

Tyler Owens x Reader: Hell or High Water

Request: Anonymous said, “i love your writing so much !!!! i was wondering if i could request your take on the twisters scene towards the end when tyler’s leg gets stuck under the debris in the town square ?? like reader is the one running over to him completely worried & stressed because her man is hurt "

Word count: 4.7k

Warnings: tornado, blood, injury mention

A/N: I'm so sorry I've been posting so infrequently, but here's a little tyler angst / hurt / comfort to brighten your sunday (did not proof read so pls don't hold me responsible for the inevitable mistakes). Anyway, comments / replies are so appreciated, enjoy!!

The storm rolls in fast. One minute, you and Tyler are running through the streets of El Reno, trying to help by corralling people to safety, and the next, you’re watching as the storm, which has nearly tripled in size, barrels towards you and everyone you’ve ever cared about. 

Tyler’s screaming your name– he wants you to move. But it’s like what they say about car crashes– no matter how frightening, you can’t seem to look away from the monstrosity of a storm. The dark clouds are swirling fiercely, destroying everything in their wake. The rain picks up– fat drops fall, soaking your clothes. The tornado is spinning faster and faster, moving closer and closer. 

It’s mesmerizing– in a terrifying, deadly sort of way. 

The winds are whipping wildly, blowing debris all over the place. Before you can react, a large chunk of vinyl siding flies straight towards you. The corner of it nicks your temple, you feel the skin slice open with a sharp tear, followed by the sensation of warm liquid trickling down your face. 

“Shit!” you gasp, tucking your face into your elbow moments too late.

Another one whips by before you start to back pedal. 

You spin around just in time to see an entire fucking car drop from the sky in the space between you and Tyler. It lands on its back bumper before starting to fall backwards.  

“Tyler!” you scream, knowing he probably can’t hear above the roaring winds. 

With one more gust, the car begins to fall, sending up a wild cloud of dust in its wake. 

As soon as you’re done shielding your eyes from it, you run towards the vehicle– now resting upside down on its crushed roof. 

“Tyler!” you cry. 

This time, you hear a faint groan in response. You follow the sound until you see Tyler laying flat on his back– one leg crushed underneath the hood of the car and a pile of broken chunks of pavement. 

He’s attempting (and failing) to push it off from himself. 

“Tyler,” you say again– his name seemingly the only word your lips are able to form. This time, he hears you above the chaos of everything else. His eyes meet yours– except, instead of their usual calm, they’re filled with terror.  

“You gotta get out of here–” he says. “Go–”

But you’re already running towards him. You know you can’t lift a fucking car– but some delusional part of you hopes that adrenaline might give you momentary super strength or fucking something to help you lift this thing. You try to grip the front bumper, but it’s wet from the rain. Your hands slip and slide no matter how hard you focus. 

“Just hang on,” you plead. 

The car’s tilted right over his leg. You try again– lifting as hard as you can. But even with a good grip, you know it’s too heavy.

The car doesn’t budge. 

“You need to go–” he says. 

But you ignore him– all you can focus on is moving the damn car… even slightly would do– just enough so that he could slide his leg out. 

“Baby,” Tyler’s using his gentle voice– the one he uses when he wants you to butter you up so you do as he says. But you can’t– 

“Y/N, you have to leave–”  

“Shut up!” you scream, eyes blurring as tears and rain both start to cloud your vision. 

“Please,” Tyler says. His hand grips your wrist and you finally look at him desperately. “Please, you have to get inside.”

“I’m not leaving you,” you sob, the thought too unimaginable to even consider. “I’m not going anywhere without you!” 

Using every single ounce of strength left in your body, you lift again. And to your absolute shock, the car starts to lift– except… it isn’t you moving the damn thing. It’s the winds picking up. 

But it doesn’t matter what makes it move, as soon as Tyler feels the weight start to lift from his leg he slides out from under the car and scoots backwards against the pavement. 

Once he’d free, you dare to glance up at the sky– the storm is no longer coming. 

It’s here.

“C’mon,” you say, reaching for Tyler to help him to his feet. “Are you okay?”

Tyler nods– and willingly takes your hand as he gets to his feet. You’re surprised, but relieved, that he’s moving okay as the two of you hurry across the street towards the school that people had started taking cover in. 

“Where–” you pant as soon as you’re through the front doors. But neither you or Tyler had ever been to this school– so how were you supposed to know where to go? 

“Basement,” Tyler pants, nodding towards the nearest staircase. 

With your hand still clutching his, you let him guide you towards the double doors. As soon as you push it open, you see an array of other people huddled in the hall. 

“C’mon,” Tyler motions towards the stairs. “Go down– into the basement.”

You and him lead the way– moving as fast as you can into the first classroom on the basement level. It’s some sort of recreational room with open spaces and only a few desks scattered around the room. 

“Get down,” Tyler says. “Against the wall.” He moves his hand to your waist and helps lower you to the ground where you quickly lay flat on the ground. 

“Cover your head,” he instructs.  

“Tyler–” you call for him, but after only a moment, you feel the warmth of his body beside you, and then an arm cradling your head. He’s shielding your body with his own– 

And you don’t even have time to argue with it, because the building starts to shake. 

“Hang on,” he says in your ear. “I got you, we’re okay.”

The winds rip through the school, causing the building to tremble fiercely. Pieces of the ceiling start to fall around you– chunks of debris crashing to the floor. 

You’re pretty sure you scream at one point, but you can’t hear it above the roars of the wind. All you can do is stay low, just like Tyler told you to do, and focus on the way his weight feels on top of you. 

It’s enough to get you through it. Because within a few minutes, the winds die down and you can finally hear your breath as you pant for air. 

But even above your own gasp, you hear someone’s muffled voice murmuring something. You dare to open your eyes just as Tyler’s weight lifts off from you. The murmuring continues– this time, it’s accompanied by a gentle hand clutching your elbow. 

It’s Tyler, you remind yourself. Tyler’s here. Tyler’s safe. You both are. 

You let him help you to your feet. And when you finally get your bearings enough to look around, everyone else seems unharmed. People have cuts and bruises– but nothing that looks imminently life threatening. 

Suddenly, a hand cups your face, gently turning your head in the direction of Tyler. Concerned, watery eyes meet yours. Tyler’s studying you– making sure you’re not broken beyond repair. Finally, his voice comes into focus. 

“Y’alright?” he asks gently.

“I’m okay,” you manage to croak. “I’m okay–”

You wince as his thumb trails along the cut on your temple. “You’re hurt… We gotta get this looked at–”

Absent-mindedly, you reach your hand to your temple and touch where you’d been nicked. But maybe sliced was a better term– Tyler’s right, it’s bleeding steadily. When you pull your fingers away, they’re coated in blood.  

Suddenly dizzy, you move your arm and grip his shoulder, squeezing gently as if to check if he was really in front of you. 

“You’re okay. We’re okay. C’mon.”

“What about the others?” you pant. 

Tyler nods, tugging you towards the exit. “I didn’t see where they ended up, we’ll find them.”

You’re wobbly and unsure as you begin to walk towards the door, but Tyler’s hand gripping your elbow offers extra reassurance. 

Tyler has to put his weight against the door before it’ll open. There’s a pile of debris in front of it that he pushes to the side to make way for people to exit. Slowly, the pair of you make your way through the hallway and up the stairs to the first floor. 

You gasp when you see the damage– large chunks of the roof have been ripped off, displaying a gray, cloudy sky above. There’s random objects and piles of scrap lying in the halls. You and Tyler have to step over obstacles just to get to the exit door. This one opens with much more ease– making you sigh a breath of relief when you’re finally out in the open. 

Already there’s ambulances and cops arriving on the scene. 

Tyler nudges you towards one of the ambulance trucks. “Let’s get your head checked,” he insists. 

You’re foggy but still try to argue. 

“What about Lily and Dani? And Boone and Dex–”

“I know,” he says gently. “We’ll find ‘em, but you can’t even see with all that blood running in your eyes, so how about we get ya stitched up first, yeah?”

You want to argue– but in the end, you’re too exhausted. 

Tyler holds your hand the entire time you get checked out. The EMT shines a light in your eye– then makes you follow his finger back and forth. Meanwhile, something vicious pulses in the back of your skull. 

You try to be tough, but the second you see the needle the EMT pulls out, you start to get shaky. 

“You’re okay,” Tyler assures you, thumb grazing across the surface of your knuckles. “You’re okay, it’ll be quick.”

The EMT applies a local anesthetic, and luckily, you don’t really feel much after the first initial poke. But as soon as he’s done, he starts mumbling something about a concussion. 

Tyler nods before accepting the bag of ice offered. 

“Tyler! Y/N!” you hear a familiar voice holler. 

You exhale a breath of relief at the sight of Boone running through the rubble towards you. 

“Boone–” Tyler sighs, sounding equally relieved. He wraps an arm around his friend and claps his back gently. “You alright?” 

He nods. “I’m alright. Lily, Dani, and Dex too. We and about thirty others took cover in this old Irish lady’s store– she had a storm shelter out back believe it or not.” 

“You guys alright?” Boone’s eyes wander to you– in particular, the bandage on your forehead. 

“We’re okay,” Tyler says quickly. “Concussed– but she’s okay.” 

“Thank God for that. Y’all done here? RV’s beat to shit, but Lily found the truck. The windshield’s pretty shattered but I think she’ll drive.”

Tyler presses the ice the EMT had given him against your temple and nods. “Let’s get you home.”

…

“T?” 

“Hmm?” Tyler hums, he doesn’t take his eyes off you, although he’s painfully aware of his best friend watching him with a scrunched face through the rearview mirror. 

Normally Tyler always drove. But since you’d barely made it to the car without passing out beside him, he opted for the backseat. 

You’re currently curled into his side, breathing steadily with your eyes snapped shut.  

“Tyler–” 

“What, Boone?” 

“Was it your bad knee?”

“What?” he asks. 

“Don’t what me, T—” Boone frowns. “I was there the first time ya injured that knee. Is that the same one?”

Tyler shrugs. “Might be.”

Boone sighs. “C’mon T, why didn’t ya get it checked with the medics?” 

“Because it ain’t that important,” Tyler shoots back quietly, trying not to wake you up. “I gotta get her home first, she’s concussed and scared. And my stupid knee can wait.”

“T–”

Tyler clenches his jaw as he tries to straighten his knee. He can already feel it swelling underneath the fabric of his jeans. “I’ll get it checked tomorrow, Boone. Okay?” 

Boone shakes his head. “Fine. But for the record, you’re an idiot.” 

Tyler’s about to reply, but then he feels you shift in his arms. As he glances down in concern, he watches you sigh and nuzzle your head against his shoulder. 

When Boone pulls the truck in front of your place, you still haven’t budged. And truthfully, after the day you’d had, Tyler doesn’t want to wake you. So, he carefully scoops you up in his arms and slides out of the truck. As soon as he puts the pressure on his knee of your combined weight, he winces. 

“Jesus, T–” Boone says from the rolled down window. “You’re gonna make it worse.”

“I’m fine, Boone– just go back and get Dex, Dani, and Lily. Get ‘em home safe.”

Without looking back, he carefully carries you up the driveway and through the front door.  

His knee is screaming the entire way, but when he gently kicks the bedroom door open and deposits you in the bed, he breathes a sigh of relief. Tyler pulls off your muddy boots before pulling the blanket from the foot of the bed over you, then, he quietly slips out of the door– heading for the bathroom. 

Tyler grunts as he lowers himself to the edge of the tub, his right leg awkwardly sticking out as he attempts to straighten it. He hasn’t bothered to change– his jeans are still coated in dirt and blood. 

Tyler shifts to look at his knee and debates whether he should’ve listened to Boone and gone to get it checked out. He secretly had been hoping his knee would heal itself, but now, sitting in the bathroom, Tyler can feel that something was wrong. 

Sighing, Tyler slowly lifts himself from the tub to shed his jeans. He grimaces when he pulls the fabric over his swollen knee– but he cringes even harder when he sees how bruised the skin is. Tyler pokes around the bone a few times– trying to determine where the most damage is. Ultimately, he realizes it’s on the outer part– probably a torn ligament or two, if he has to guess. 

He’s only been in the bathroom for a few minutes when he hears the floorboards creak in the hall. Tyler’s attention shifts as there’s a soft knock on the door. 

“Tyler?” your voice is small. “Tyler, are you in there?”

He immediately grabs the pair of sweatpants he grabbed from the bedroom and stands up to tug them on. You’ve been through enough– Tyler doesn’t need you seeing his injury on top of everything else. 

Once he’s covered he pulls open the door– all pain in his knee forgotten about when he sees you standing in the hall, hair messy and shirt wrinkled underneath your crossed arms. 

“Hey baby, what’s wrong?” he asks. 

You take a deep breath, eyes watery as you gaze at him in what looks like disbelief. 

“I–” you begin. “I woke up and you were gone.”

Tyler can’t help but step closer to you. “I’m sorry, baby. I was just changing–”

You nod quickly. “It’s okay– I just…” your voice fades, like you can’t find the words. 

So, instead of speaking, you move closer to him and sneak your hands around his waist. After laying your head flat against his chest, Tyler winds his arms around your shoulders and tugs you closer. 

“Everything okay?” he murmurs against your hair. 

He feels you nod beneath him, but doesn’t miss the way you squeeze him just a bit tighter. 

The two of you stay like that until Tyler’s knee begins to ache too much to bear. He fights the pain for as long as he can, but eventually he has to pull away. 

“It’s been a long day, why don’t we get you back in bed?” he asks. 

Your voice is muffled against his chest when you reply. “Will you stay with me?”

Tyler tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear and smiles. “‘Course I will.”

…

Tyler doesn’t recall falling asleep. 

What he does recall is being startled awake in the dead of the night to a blood curdling scream. 

You thrash beside him harshly– flinching at something that isn’t there. 

“Tyler!” you scream out. “Tyler!”

Just as he turns to snap on the light, you kick your leg out– your foot colliding with the outside of his knee. 

Tyler hisses, unable to think for a moment as the pain shoots up his entire leg. You continue to cry out beside him desperately. After a moment, once the pain dulls just slightly, Tyler’s able to reach for you.  

The second his hand shakes your shoulder, your eyes snap open. They’re wide and wild as they search for him desperately. When you finally realize that it’s him who’s beside you, you take a shuddering breath. 

“You’re okay,” he says. Without waiting for you to respond, he reaches for you– gripping your shoulder and tugging you to his chest. You don’t hesitate before folding against him, breathing still rapid and panicky. 

You fist at the fabric of his shirt tightly, like you’re ensuring he won’t slip away. “I got you,” he whispers, pressing his lips against your hair. “You’re okay, I got you.”

“I was–” you pant. “I was back there– I couldn’t find you– you weren’t there–”

 “Sh,” Tyler hums. “I’m right here, baby. I got you.”

“You’re right here,” you mumble quietly, like you’re reassuring yourself. 

Eventually, your whimpers fade and your breathing steadies out. Tyler’s not sure how long it takes, but you fall back asleep curled against him while he runs his fingers through your hair. Tyler never falls back asleep, but you don’t move again until morning. 

…

Despite the throbbing in his knee and the pounding in his head demanding caffeine, Tyler doesn’t get up until he feels you stir beneath him. Your eyes flutter open, relief instantly washing over your features when you notice he’s still with you. 

“Morning,” you mumble sleepily. 

Tyler pretends like he hasn’t been awake for the last three hours and smiles. “Mornin’. How’re you feelin’ today? How’s the head?”

You shrug. “I’m okay, still a little shaken up I think.” 

Tyler nods understandingly. “Why don’t I go make us some coffee?”

Your lips spread into a small smile. “Okay,” you agree, untangling your limbs from his. “Thanks.”

Tyler carefully slid out of bed, trying to prevent you from seeing the obvious limp he was sporting– but the night had made his knee grow stiff. As soon as he was out the door, he hobbled down the stairs, hand gripping the railing the entire way. 

Almost as soon as Tyler makes it to the bottom of the stairs, he hears a knock at the door. He frowns at the unannounced visitor, wondering who would be stopping by before nine in the morning. 

Tyler hoists open the front door to see Boone standing on the other side. 

“Boone– hey,” Tyler says, caught off guard. “What’re you doin’ here?”

“Hey man, just checkin’ in.”

“What happened to phone calls?”

Boone frowns. “Man, I texted and called about a hundred times, I was just poppin’ in to make sure you weren’t dead.”

Tyler steps to the side to allow room for his friend to come inside. “Shit, sorry,” he says, recalling that he left his phone downstairs all night. “I just forgot to charge it. I’m hangin’ in there, you?”

Tyler closes the door behind Boone before limping back towards the kitchen. 

“Bullshit,” Boone says, eyeing Tyler’s gate. “Have you called the doc yet?” 

“I just got up–” Tyler starts as he grabs a few mugs from the cabinet. 

“Call right now– see if they can get ya in today.”

“Since when did you become such a mother hen?” Tyler grumbles, flicking on the coffee pot. “I’ll call today.”

“The earlier you call, the better chance they can get ya in. Unless you want to just go straight to the hospital–”

“Why would he need to go to the hospital?” Your voice makes Tyler’s head snap to the side. 

You’re standing in your sweats and one of his t-shirts with your arms crossed. You look between him and Boone carefully, like you’re studying the situation.  

“I don’t–” Tyler starts. 

“You didn’t tell her?” Boone interrupts. 

Tyler watches as a look of concern takes over your face. “Tell me what?”

“Boone,” Tyler says sharply in warning. “Don’t.”

“What is it?” you demand, looking at him for an explanation. 

“Nothing,” Tyler clears his throat. “I’m fine–”

“Tyler fucked up his knee yesterday,” Boone blurts out, eyes never leaving Tyler. 

Tyler sighs, eyes slowly falling shut now that his secret was out. “Jesus, Boone.”

“Sorry, T. But maybe she’ll convince you to get it checked,” he says. 

“What?” you say, looking down at Tyler’s covered knee. When no one responds, you blurt out, “Oh my God, the car– your leg was crushed–” 

Tyler rubs the back of his neck, purposely avoiding your gaze “Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you go to the medic…” your voice trails off in realization. “Because you were too busy helping me,” you answer your own question. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Let me see it.”

Tyler winces at your harsh tone. “What?”

“Your knee, let me see it.”

Tyler clears his throat. “Baby, it’s fine–”

“If it’s fine you’ll let me see it,” you say stubbornly. 

There was an awkward moment of silence as Tyler contemplated what to do. He’d looked at his knee the night before, and can only imagine how much worse it probably looks today. 

Finally he sighs, accepting his fate as neither you nor Boone back down. He grips the hem of his sweatpants and yanks the leg up, showing his bare knee. 

You gasp before hurrying over. “Tyler, what the fuck–”

How had you not noticed? You supposed yesterday in your daze you missed his limps or awkward steps– but you still think that you should have known– a damn car fell on him for God’s sake…

“Jesus, T,” Boone hisses. 

Tyler steals a glance. The discoloration is darker than last night, and the swelling has definitely gotten worse. Tyler curses himself for not at least throwing an ice pack on it the night before. 

“Oh my God, you carried me–” you blurt out. “What the hell, Tyler?”

“Y/N,” he pleads, sighing. But when he glances at you, he’s surprised to see tears forming in your eyes. 

“So it is the bad one,” Boone mutters after he notes the scar down the center of Tyler’s knee. 

You suck in a sharp breath. 

Tyler drops his pant leg and straightens his back. “Look, I will get it checked out, okay? I promise– it’s not a big deal.”

Tyler expects backlash, but there’s no response. Boone looks like he’s nodding, maybe he’s actually believing Tyler’s promise. But you’ve gone quiet, head down and arms crossed defensively, like you’re withdrawing into a shell. 

Boone turns towards you, finally averting the attention off from Tyler. “How’re you doin’? How’s the concussion?” he asks. 

You shrug. “I’m okay. A little headache, but nothing broken. You?”

Boone nods. “About the same. I’m gonna go check on Lily, then we’ll drop the truck back off later, will you make sure he gets to the doctor’s today?”

“I’m right here,” Tyler sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Yeah but I trust her more than you,” Boone says candidly. 

You offer him a small smile, “I’ll do my best,” you say. 

Boone offers the two of you one final nod before heading out the front door. 

“Leave it to Boone to barge in like that at nine in the mornin’,” Tyler says as he extends a steaming mug of coffee towards you. But you never uncross your arms. Instead, you just stare at him like that with a look of disapproval. 

“C’mon,” Tyler sighs, head falling. “I’ve been walking on it since yesterday and I haven’t fallen apart yet. You and Boone are both making this a bigger deal than it is.” At this point he knows he’s being a little difficult, but he just wants this over with. 

“I–” you choke out. “I– I don’t understand. Why would you stay in pain like that? Why wouldn’t you tell me you were hurt? Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you,” Tyler says. 

“So why lie?” 

“I didn’t lie–”

“You told me you were fine– I mean you… you carried me on a broken knee, for God’s sake–”

“We have no idea that it’s broken,” Tyler reminds you. 

You scoff. “It looks pretty fucking broken to me, Tyler.”

“It’s just a knee–”

“I know it’s just your knee, and knees heal– but what if it was something worse… I mean, what else are you lying to me about?”

“C’mon,” he sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. “I didn’t lie.”

“Okay, so just keeping stuff from me then,” you say, voice rising. “I mean, you were such an idiot yesterday– first you tell me to leave you behind when the car fell, then you shield my body with yours in the basement instead of keeping yourself safe– now you’re getting my injuries checked out and completely neglecting your own. And for what?” you yell. “I mean… is it an ego thing? Because you’re too tough to get checked out? Or what? Some stupid sort of hero complex? You gotta prove yourself by putting your life in danger?” 

Tyler’s jaw clenches as he grinds his teeth together. “Is that what you really think?” 

You throw your hands up exasterbatedly. “I don’t know what to think! Because you won’t fucking talk to me!” 

Tyler scoffs. “Are you really that mad about this?”

You suck in a breath before sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. “Yeah–” you choke out. “I am mad– I’m mad because I don’t want to lose you!” your voice cracks on the final word, fat tears rolling down your cheek, leaving streaks behind. Tyler’s entire demeanor instantly softens at the sight. He moves closer, but doesn’t reach out. 

“I did all that to protect you–” he spits out. “Because I can’t stand the idea of something happening to you.”

You wipe the tears away from your face, chest heaving as you listen. 

“God, if you got hurt– trying to help me lift a goddamn car off my legs… or because I led you into the wrong spot– or because I put my stupid knee about your head injury, I’d never forgive myself.” 

“And you think I could forgive myself if I ran away and left you underneath a fucking car? Or if you died shielding me from debris?” 

He sighs defeatedly before leaning against he kitchen counter, trying to take some weight off his knee. “I get what you’re saying, Y/N, but that’s just what I do– I protect the people I love… And unfortunately for you, I love you more than anything else.” 

Finally, the look of frustration melted off your face. In it’s place was a mixture of sadness and admiration. “I love you more than anything else too, which is why I need you to take care of yourself.”

Tyler nods, finally feeling like you both were finding some common ground. “I can’t promise I won’t put you first,” he says. “But I promise I’ll try to take care of the both of us.” 

You shift your weight to your right leg and pop your hip disapprovingly. 

“C’mon, what can I do to make things better?” he asks, tilting his head to the side as he gazes at you. 

“Well for starters you could let me take you to the damn hospital.”

Tyler offers you a pleading look. “How about the doctor’s office?” 

“Urgent care,” you state, like it’s your final offer. 

Tyler groans exaggeratedly but then nods. “Okay, fine. Deal. Urgent care it is. But let it be known this is only happening because I love you so much.” 

 The corner of your lip tugs into a small smile. Tyler will take it. 

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (23/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: There's nothing sweeter than unexpected visitors.

Warnings: 18+ (just be prepared for some words), fluff (like a lot), Pascale is the sweetest thing on this planet, teeny tiny bit of angst

Word Count: 3.2k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: hello everyone! I hope you all are doing okay after the Ferrari-Carlos-Lewis thing, because I'm still in denial. this is mostly fluff, because I couldn't manage you dealing with more bad stuff this week. love you! feedback is appreciated!

Before you can say anything or even react, the blonde woman lets go of your hands and snatches one of the magazines lying on the coffee table in front of you. She rolls it up with her slender fingers before smacking Charles across the back of the head. 

"Maman!" he exclaims angrily, rubbing his head. "What are you doing? Are you crazy?"

The woman holds the magazine under his chin so that the Monegasque has no choice but to look her in the eye and return her stare. "That's no way to talk to your mother." She puts the magazine back in its rightful place before turning to you again. "Try again, chéri."

Your friend has to hold back a grin before he spreads his arms out and hugs his mother. "Good morning, Maman. It's really good to see you."

"It's good to see you too, mon chéri," she replies lovingly, stroking his broad back once with her hand before releasing herself from the tight embrace. She puts her hands to his cheeks to study his face. "I didn't know you were back home."

Charles tilts his head, his mouth forming a thin line. "I'm sorry I didn't let you know," he replies meekly, taking her hands from his cheeks so that he can press a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "I've had a lot on my mind."

"I can see that." She pulls her hands from his and then turns to face you. When she looks at you, you stiffen. All of a sudden, you feel as if you're naked in Charles' clothes, she's looking at you so piercingly. "I'm sorry I haven't introduced myself properly yet. I'm not usually as rude as my son." Charles rolls his eyes as her smile is affectionate and gentle. Then she wraps you in a hug that is careful, but firm nonetheless. It's a good hug. "I am Pascale. It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise." After you've also introduced yourself, you return her smile. 

"Now that you two have met," Charles interrupts your conversation. "How do we come to be honored with your company, Maman?"

As if it was her own home, her own four walls, Pascale leaves the hallway and goes into the kitchen, where she grabs a cup and makes herself an espresso at the coffee machine. Like two lost puppies, the two of you follow the beautiful woman. "I was called in tears last night." When the loud buzzing of the machine stops, she takes a sip of her coffee before placing it on the countertop. "Can someone explain that to me?" With her eyes glued to her son like an annoying price sticker on a new plate, you're off the hook. 

"I didn't think she'd call you."

She?

"And I didn't think you'd just kick her out of the apartment without giving her some warning," Pascale replies sharply, raising an eyebrow to show her disapproval of Charles' behavior. "She called me in the middle of the night, upset with you and crying bitterly because you kicked her out of the apartment with a simple text message."

Something flashes in your mind. When you followed Charles back to the bedroom last night, he was typing away on his cell phone. And when you told him that he'd be crazy if you went with him to the apartment where his ex still lives, he assured you that she wouldn't be there. 

You didn't expect him to just throw Annika out of the apartment so that you would have a safe place where Raphael couldn't harm you.

"Maman." Charles raises his hands placatingly. "It wasn't like that."

"So you didn't send her a text message telling her to pack her things and leave within thirty minutes?" When Charles doesn't reply, but simply stares at his mother open-mouthed, she runs her fingers through her hair in bewilderment. "I didn't bring you up like that. Have you completely lost your mind?"

"Maman -"

"No 'Maman'." Judging by the look on her face, she would like to hit him over the head with the magazine again. "Do you know what the consequences could be?"

"Maman -"

"She could go public with it!"

"Maman -"

"And - and damage your reputation! She could -"

"Maman!" Charles almost shouts at his mother to break out of her mental spiral. She looks angrily at her son, who takes a small step towards her. He lowers his hands. "Annika cheated on me."

As if all the air had escaped her body, Pascale plops down on the chair where you were eating pancakes just a few minutes ago. She puts her face in her hands and takes a deep breath before looking at her son again. She tries to blink away the tears in her eyes. "Is there anything I can do for you, mon chéri?"

Without answering, Charles closes the distance to his mother and holds her tightly in his arms. He rests his cheek on the top of her head and closes his eyes. "It's all right, Maman. Please don't worry, okay?" He squeezes his mother a little tighter as her arms wrap around his middle. "It's all right. I'm all right. I'm in good hands here."

Pascale's gaze flickers to you and a small smile crosses her beautiful face. You recognize Charles in it. "You'll take good care of him, won't you?"

You feel the blood rush to your face. Suddenly it feels wrong to be witnessing this loving conversation between mother and son. "Of course." With everything I have.

"Very well, chéri," Pascale finally says, gently pushing her son away. "Your brother is coming to visit tomorrow. As you haven't seen each other for a while, I'd like you to come to dinner. He would definitely be happy to see you." She looks at you again. "You too, sweetheart."

Before you can respond, Charles looks at you and shakes his head, barely noticing, so you don't turn down her invitation. "All right, maman. We'll be there." He nudges her lightly with his elbow. "As long as there's pasta e pollo."

Pascale rolls her eyes. "You're incorrigible, Charles." She smiles at him anyway. "Your new girlfriend gets to decide. After all, she's the new addition to our family and I want to make a good impression."

"Maman, she's -" Charles tries to explain himself, but his mother merely raises her hand to silence him. When Charles and your eyes meet, you feel warm. And when he pushes his lower lip forward, he looks so cute that you can't help but agree with him. 

"Pasta e pollo sounds great."

Pascale gets up from her chair. "Very good. Then I'll get everything ready for tomorrow." She strides past you towards the front door and you follow her again. "I'll see you tomorrow evening. I'll let you know the exact time, mon chéri." She kisses Charles' right and then left cheek before repeating it with you. "Tomorrow we'll have enough time to talk about all this. And to get to know each other better."

"I can hardly wait," you answer her honestly.

"That's very nice. Then I'll see you tomorrow evening. Bonne journée," she wishes you before disappearing from the apartment just as quickly as she came in. As the door closes behind her, you both exhale deeply.

"I'm so sorry." Charles turns to face you.

You cross your arms in front of your chest. "Sorry for what exactly? Your mother suddenly showing up here?"

He runs his hand through his hair and leans back against the closed door. "That you're now forced to spend the evening with my family. And that I didn't make it clear that we're just friends."

You run your tongue along the inside of your teeth. "It's okay, there's plenty of time for that." Then you smile. "Your mom seems nice. I have no problem spending time with her."

He laughs briefly and then leans his head against the white wood. "It's not my mom that worries me. It's my brothers. They can be really - you know - brothers sometimes."

You walk towards him and lower your arms. "Why? Are they that bad?"

He grabs one of your hands and plays with your fingers. His eyes search yours. "I think it's better if you make up your own mind about them."

"So they're that bad?" you joke, allowing him to pull you closer so that you're standing between his legs. "If they're anything like you, I think I'll get on well with them."

His free hand rests on your hip. Despite the layers of fabric, you can feel the warmth of his skin. "Then you'll hate Arthur." His fingers press gently into your flesh before something behind you catches his attention and he releases you - too quickly for your liking. As you turn around, the piano catches your eye and the roses standing on it. 

"What's the plan for today?" you ask him, trying to draw his attention back to you. You release his hand from your hip, but only to pull him into the kitchen so he doesn't have to look at those stupid roses anymore. "Do you have to do anything? Gym? Or do you have any appointments?"

Charles sits down in his chair and fishes his cell phone out of the pocket of his sweatpants. "I don't think so," he answers and takes a look at his online calendar before placing his cell phone on the counter in front of him. "I don't have any appointments or commitments to meet until after Christmas. Until then, I'm all yours." His smile is sweet as sugar and your heart skips a beat.

You want to grab him by the collar of his shirt, pull him across the worktop and kiss him until you can't breathe. Touch him until the countertop is used for something other than cooking, but this morning you convinced yourself that this friendship is the right and, above all, the only way this can work. And that you wouldn't do anything to sabotage this friendship.

"How about we use this time wisely then, huh?" You reach for Pascale's coffee cup and rinse it. 

"Do you have an idea?" He raises an eyebrow and has to stifle a smile when he sees your grin. "Of course you have one. Otherwise you wouldn't have asked like that. Fire away."

"So," you start and put the cup back in its place in the cupboard. "We've finally spoken and we've agreed to stay in this apartment together."

"As friends," the Monegasque confirms the thought you just had, even if you don't understand why he has to say it out loud. 

Your eyes dart towards the hallway, knowing that the white piano with the red roses is just a few meters away. "What do you say we go out today and buy some new things for the apartment?" you suggest. "Then I could get things for my room and maybe something else to make it feel a bit more like home."

"You mean to make it feel like it's your apartment too?" Charles leans back in his chair a little and runs his hand through his hair. 

"Only if that's okay with you. After all, it's your apartment and I could understand if you wanted to leave everything as it is at the moment and -" you babble nervously without thinking about what you're saying. You look at him worriedly and try to read his face to see if you might have crossed a line. 

"That's actually a good idea," Charles finally replies, smiling at you. "But are you ready for it?"

"For what?" you ask, confused, leaning against the countertop, which - unfortunately - is only used for cooking.

Charles shrugs his shoulders. "For being seen outside. With me." He looks at you like a kicked puppy that's been abandoned on the street in the middle of the night.

"I told you I have no problem with that," you assure him and walk around the kitchen counter to sit next to him. You reach for his hand and intertwine your fingers. "We're friends, Charles. We know we're friends. And I don't care what anyone else thinks they know about us." You tilt your head a little to one side. "Our friendship is real - and that's why we're going right out there to buy some new stuff for the apartment."

His smile almost makes your heart stop. "For our apartment," he corrects you, his green eyes twinkling.

"Our apartment," you repeat softly. 

"Okay." He lowers his gaze to your hands, and the way his fingers wrap around yours makes it feel like they're perfect for each other. The two of you spending time together shouldn't make you this happy. "But we'll only go on one condition."

"What's that?" 

"We're not going alone. We're taking Pierre and Kika with us so that it doesn't look like we're shopping for furniture for our apartment as a couple in love." The fact that he doesn't want to go out alone with you feels like a punch in the gut. When he notices the hurt look on your face, he squeezes your fingers gently twice. "It's just to protect you, Y/N."

The fact that he doesn't trust you to do this hits you harder than it should. How many times do you have to tell him you're ready? That the opinions of others don't matter to you as long as you have Charles by your side? Does he really think you're that weak?

"I don't need to be protected," you reply sharply and take your hand away from him. 

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into," he tries to reassure you, but the fact that he's talking down your feelings doesn't make things any better. 

"Maybe not," you say annoyed and get up from your chair. "But there will come a point when we're on our own. And then everyone's going to be talking shit about us, I get it. And I get that it's going to be bad." You don't care that you're acting like a defiant child. The fact that Charles doesn't want to be seen alone with you hurts more than you would ever admit. "So why not today?"

The young man in front of you looks away from you with a crestfallen expression before also rising from his chair. When he reaches for your hand again, you allow it. "I want you to be able to turn away from me if it gets too much for you. I want you to have the chance to live a normal life if you do decide against me." His other hand rests against your cheek and you snuggle up to him as if it were a reflex. "I don't want you to regret meeting me."

The fact that he thinks you could ever regret befriending him stabs straight through your heart. He wants to protect you from something you both have no control over, and although you'd like to stroll through Monaco holding hands with him, you can understand him.

He is trying to protect both you and himself. And you can understand that all too well. 

"All right," you give in and smile gently at him. "Then ask them if they're free and up for it today. It could be fun."

Charles lets go of you and the warmth that had been flowing through your body immediately disappears. While he talks to Pierre on the phone, you go back to your room to get changed and think about what would look good in your room. 

Different curtains wouldn't go amiss, and some candles and a small mirror would look good on the white chest of drawers opposite the bed. You might also find some new bedding that -

"Y/N?" Charles' voice echoes through the apartment. You find him in the doorway of the master bedroom, where he glances over his shoulder in your direction. "Pierre and Kika are about to head out, then we'll leave together." 

"Okay," you reply, glancing past him into the room. There are a few things lying around that are definitely not his, and the decor doesn't suit him very well either. "So this is your room?" 

"Uh-huh." He wrinkles his mouth a little. 

"What's wrong with it? Apart from the obvious, of course."

He crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Everything. I don't see anything in it that I wouldn't change."

You'd be only too happy to set the whole room on fire if it would certainly help him. Just like the roses that have burned themselves into your memory. You nudge him with your elbow. "Then we've got a lot planned for today." You look at each other and when he reaches for your hand, you have to smile. "You don't have to go through this alone, Charles. We can do this as long as we're together."

His gaze flickers briefly from your eyes to your lips. "Together," he says softly in return, leaning down a little towards you so that you have to tilt your head back to look at him. His warm breath caresses your face as his free hand finds its place on his hip again to pull you against him. You feel his hard body against yours, his heartbeat under your fingertips as you place your hand on his chest. You feel his warmth as his nose bumps against yours, his hip against your stomach as he presses you against him. You feel his -

"Are you ready?" Pierre's voice comes out of nowhere as he and Kika walk through the front door. Thank God the bedroom is further back so they can't see you. 

Instead of letting you go, Charles presses you tighter against him so that you can feel him everywhere. "I think we need a new door lock," he breathes, leaning his forehead against yours. "Then no more uninvited guests can come in when we're together." 

When he finally breaks away from you, you have to take a deep breath. Although you've decided that you don't feel anything for him apart from friendship, he triggers something in you that no one before him has ever managed to do. 

You desire him. From the top of your head to the soles of your feet, you crave him, his touch, his skin on yours. And his words echo in your thoughts, making you dizzy. 

Together. Together. Together. 

You rub your face once and look after Charles, who briefly disappears in the direction of the living room, the opposite direction from your friends.

What you can't see, however, is him shoving his hand into his pants to control his raging boner, which is pressing almost painfully against the seams of his boxers. How is he supposed to put up with that when you live together?

Together. Together. Together.

[suunani]

morning to stay ( yang jungwon )

▍ neither you nor jungwon wants to leave the bed.

content : 1400 words, male reader, boyfriend!jungwon, fluff fluff and only fluff again, lazy morning cuddles, lot of kisses.

the soft glow of the morning sun spilled through the blinds, warming the air and softly illuminating the mess of blankets that wrapped around the two of you.

you lay still, watching the golden light dance across the edges of jungwon's face.

his cheek was pressed against your chest, one hand gripping the fabric of your shirt as if afraid you might disappear. his breathing was slow and even, his soft exhales tickling the hollow of your neck.

you had been awake for a while now, but you didn’t dare move too much in case it disturbed him. you couldn't — not when he was lying so peacefully against you.

there was a rare kind of serenity in moments like these, when the world outside felt miles away and all you could think about was how lucky you were to have him here.

jungwon shifted slightly in his sleep, letting out a small sigh. his nose scrunched up in that way you adored, and you had to resist the urge to kiss it.

but of course, your resolve didn't last long.

you leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. then, unable to help yourself, you moved to his temple, then his nose, then the corner of his mouth.

each kiss was delicate, almost reverent, and you could feel the tiniest smile form on his lips even though his eyes were still closed.

"mmm," he hummed, his voice muffled and raspy with sleep. "what are you doing?"

"good morning, sleepyhead," you whispered, your lips brushing against his hairline.

"not morning," he mumbled, shifting closer to you. "still sleepy."

you chuckled, your arms tightening around him as your fingers traced gentle patterns along his back.

"it's morning," you said softly, your lips now grazing the top of his head. "but we don't have to get up yet."

"good," jungwon said, his voice muffled against your chest. "don't wanna move."

"me neither," you admitted, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. "you're too comfy."

jungwon’s lips curved into a sleepy smile, but he didn’t bother replying.

he curled closer, his leg tangling with yours under the blanket, and you took the opportunity to let your hands wander, running them down his back, then up to his shoulders, then back again.

his body was warm, soft against yours, and you found yourself pulling him even closer, wrapping both arms around him.

you couldn't get enough of him.

touching him was like second nature for you, as essential as breathing.

after a few moments, jungwon lifted his head slightly, squinting up at you with one eye open.

"what time is it?"

"almost nine," you said, pressing your hand lightly against the small of his back.

"too early," he groaned, his face scrunching up in mock protest. "tell the sun to go away."

you smirked. "sure thing baby. let me just grab my intergalactic sun-remote real quick."

"idiot," he muttered with a little chuckle.

jungwon tried to suppress a smile, but you caught it before he could hide it. feeling bold, you leaned back slightly and gave him a mischievous grin.

"what?" he asked, his sleepy voice tinged with suspicion.

"nothing," you said, though you were clearly lying.

carefully, you loosened your hold just enough to shift. jungwon barely had time to react before you rolled him onto his back and climbed on top of him, your knees bracketing his hips.

"y/n!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide as he squirmed beneath you. "what are you doing?"

"appreciating my perfect boyfriend," you said with a grin, your hands settling on his waist. "you're just so cute, i can't help myself."

“appreciating me doesn’t mean tackling me!” he protested, though his voice cracked slightly as a laugh bubbled up, his hands weakly pushing at your shoulders.

"oh, it absolutely does," you declared dramatically.

then, without giving him a chance to escape, you leaned down and began attacking his face with kisses.

you started with his forehead, then moved your way down to his cheeks, his nose, his temples, and even his jawline.

each kiss was exaggerated and accompanied by loud smooching sounds, and jungwon's laughter grew louder and more frantic with every passing second.

"stop!" he cried, his voice high-pitched from giggling. "it tickles!"

"that’s the point," you said, grinning as you kissed the corners of his mouth. "how else am i supposed to make my pretty boyfriend laugh first thing in the morning?"

"y/n, i can't breathe!" jungwon wheezed, his laughter spilling out uncontrollably.

you finally relented, pulling back just enough to let him breathe, though not before planting one final kiss right in the corner of his left eye.

jungwon's face was flushed, his hair sticking up in every direction, and he looked absolutely radiant. you cupped his cheek, brushing your thumb across his warm skin, and leaned down to press a gentler kiss to his lips.

"you're insane," he said, though the fondness in his voice was impossible to miss.

"isn’t why you fell for me?" you said, resting your hands on either side of his face.

"it is," he admitted softly, his hands finding their way to your wrists. "but you're still insane."

you leaned down and kissed him properly this time, your lips meeting his in a soft, lingering embrace. it was a stark contrast to the playful chaos from earlier, but it was just as perfect.

when you pulled back, jungwon let out a small sigh, his hands sliding up to rest on your shoulders.

"you're heavy," he said, though there was no real complaint in his voice.

"lies," you said, grinning. "i'm just the right weight for this."

he rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face never wavered. "you're lucky i love you."

"i really am," you said sincerely, leaning down to rest your forehead against his.

for a while, neither of you moved. the sunlight continued to creep across the bed, but you paid it no mind.

your hands wandered idly along jungwon's sides, his arms, and his waist, as if you were memorizing (again) every inch of him.

eventually, you rolled off him and pulled him back into your arms, your legs tangling together once more. jungwon settled against your chest with a content sigh, your fingers traced idle patterns along his back, and his fingers tracing lazy circles on your forearm.

“what do you want to do today?” you asked, your voice quiet so as not to break the spell.

“this,” jungwon said simply, his voice muffled against your chest. “i don’t want to go anywhere. i just want to stay here with you.”

you smiled, pressing another kiss to the top of his head.

“i like that plan.”

jungwon shifted slightly, looking up at you again.

"what do you think everyone else is doing right now?" he asked after a while, his voice quiet.

"probably being responsible adults," you said with a laugh, brushing your thumb against his hip. "getting up, being productive, making plans for the day."

"sounds boring," jungwon said, snuggling closer to you.

"totally boring," you agreed.

he tilted his head up to look at you again, his expression thoughtful. "do you think we're being lazy?"

"definitely," you said with a lazy smile. "but it's a sunday. we're allowed to be lazy."

jungwon hummed in agreement, his eyes fluttering shut again.

"let's never leave this bed," he mumbled, his words slurring slightly as sleep crept back in.

"you don't have to tell me twice," you said, pressing a kiss to his hair.

the two of you stayed like that for what felt like hours, just holding each other and talking about anything and everything.

you told him about a funny dream you’d had, and he teased you about your bad habit of kicking the covers off in your sleep. he told you about a random memory from his childhood, and you laughed so hard you nearly cried.

and then, just like that, the day stretched on, but neither of you cared.

the world outside could wait.

for now, all that mattered was the warmth of the blankets, the sound of jungwon's laughter still echoing in your mind, and the way his body always fit perfectly against yours.

and in that exact moment, you knew that nothing else un the world mattered as long as you had the love of your life in your arms.

[llamagoddessofficial]

How would the Bad Sanses Harpys react if you were to preen their wings?

Poor harpy boys. They constantly look a little bit messy, because until you show up, they have no one around they trust enough to groom them.

Dust can't make eye contact while you preen him. It's been such a long time since anyone preened him, and honestly? He's flustered. You might not notice at first, since he'll just sit there in silence, not looking at you and only answering your questions with short hums. Knowing him it's only natural to assume he's feeling nothing out of the ordinary. But if you look closer at his 'impassive' face, when you run your hands over his blue-grey feathers, you'll realise there's a tinge of red on his cheekbones. You'll realise the reason he turns his head from you is because he doesn't want you to notice how embarrassingly emotional (literally just a hint of blush) he's getting. You'll realise he's replying in hums because he can't even concentrate on what you're saying. His feathers are lovely and soft, despite how long it's been since anyone groomed him. You aren't sure how much of the softness is the fine powder layer covering him, but whatever it is, it's very tempting to bury your face in it.

If there's anyone that really needs preening, it's Horror. His feathers are a mess. And he probably wants it the most out of all of them. Even though he desperately wants you to preen him, and he'll be so overjoyed if you offer, he will definitely flinch at the first touch - he's just not used to getting any kind of positive attention. But... the more you smooth his ragged uneven feathers, the more relaxed he gets. His eyelight gets big and wide, his socket half-closes, he fluffs up like a pigeon, he puts an arm around you - he'll definitely start to purr. As you pick fluff and pinfeathers out he gets more and more and more sleepy, more and more relaxed... ... Until he's a bit too relaxed and sleepy, and he just nods over, falling asleep and pulling you down with him. Congrats, you are now trapped. You are no match for his weight and sleepy clinginess. At least his huge wings are very very warm, and make great blankets.

Killer's wings are constantly in a state of disarray. Just like him. There's feathers sticking up at all different angles, clumps matted together, he sheds everywhere, he gets puffy when he's excited and patches of puff don't go back down properly... he's not quite as messy as Horror but he's definitely getting there. He never lets anyone touch him, he gets aggressive at the suggestion he needs to tidy himself, and he reacts to any attempt to clean him up by getting alarmingly violent. You are, of course, his exception to everything. He'll wait until you're sat down, then dramatically drape himself across your lap and lament about how long it's been since someone preened him. He'll constantly bring it up, and when you do finally 'cave' and run a brush over him, he grins like a cat and gets all cuddly. With how cute he acts when you're preening him it's hard to believe he ever made a fuss about it before.

Nightmare doesn't do preening. Sorry, dear. The black tar that coats his wings simply makes grooming logistically impossible. He doesn't ever look like he needs preening anyway, he's the only one of the guys who doesn't look messy - perhaps there's some deep magic in the darkness that coats him, because unless he's really angry, he never has a single feather out of place. Why would someone like him ever require that kind of thing? ... Just because he doesn't need it, though, doesn't mean he doesn't want it. He misses being able to receive that kind of affection. When the two of you are alone together, he would very much appreciate it if you just... pretended to preen him. Run your fingers through his feathers as best you can, smooth down bumps that aren't there, fix issues that haven't been there for years. You'll never see him more calm.