#sorry I think this really does have to be the last time I whine about my job on my goddamn Jaime blog

[lost-in-fandoms]

Winter Warmers day 19: Holiday magic. Maxiel, hurt/comfort. About 1k. (yes I know I am a couple days late. yes I also know they saw each other for padel, just...ignore it.)

When Daniel goes to bed, he's in Perth. He is in his bed, with his blankets, his white noise machine, his podcast, and his loneliness. He is a little too sad and a little too warm, thinking about all the ways his life has changed, is still changing. Thinking about the messages he has been ignoring, the calls he hasn't picked up.

When Daniel wakes up, none of those things are true.

When Daniel wakes up, he is in a different bed, just a light blanket covering him, with the distant sound of traffic filtering in through the windows, city lights slicing the shadows through the half closed curtains. He is a little confused, but comfortably warm.

And there are arms wrapped around his waist.

It's that really that makes him freeze, breath stuttering in his chest. Sometimes, with all the traveling, he does end up forgetting where he fell asleep. And even if he never got quite this confused, it wouldn't be too weird to be in an unfamiliar room, but there hasn't been anyone in his bed for weeks, so Daniel is pretty sure he would remember that.

Especially because whoever is spooning him is almost certainly male, broad chest pressed against his back, the slightest scratch of a scruffy beard against his neck.

He doesn't know what's happening. He doesn't know where he is, who he's with, and his heart rate is steadily picking up when whoever is holding him sighs, tugging him closer.

"Are you awake?"

And oh. Daniel knows this voice. Daniel knows the rasp of it, deeper with sleep.

But how in the hell did he end up in Max's bed?

"Stop panicking, Daniel, everything is of course fine," Max murmurs, moving his head to nuzzle his shoulder, one of his hands rubbing gentle circles on his hip.

Like this is normal. Like this is something they do, wake up together, in Max's bed. When Daniel was just in Perth, had not answered Max's calls in weeks, and the last time they had seen each other Daniel had gotten tears and snot all over Max's team kit, sweaty in the Singapore heat.

He tries to breathe, tries to will his heart to slow down, but all he manages is a small, breathless whine, as a shudder travels down his spine.

He feels untethered, shaken and lost, emotions mixing and bubbling over, threatening to spill, making a mess, like everything else in his life.

"Daniel, hey, no."

Concern drips from Max's words, and Daniel lets himself be turned around and tucked into his chest, hiding his face into Max's shirt. Lets Max breathe deep and exaggerated, trying to get Daniel to copy him. Lets Max murmur in his ear, careful and tender, almost the same tone of voice he uses for when his cats are spooked.

"I'm sorry," Max says, contrite, when Daniel's breathing is back to almost normal, even if he's still hiding into Max's chest. "I should have probably given you more space."

Maybe the reasonable answer to that would be a nod, since it was pretty confusing and scary to wake up in Max's arms, but at the mention of space all Daniel can do is tangle his fingers harder into Max's shirt, pressing closer.

He doesn't know how he's here, doesn't know what kind of miracle teleported him from his sad and lonely bed to Max's hug, doesn't know if he even deserves to be here, after avoiding him for so long, but now that he is here, he doesn't want any fucking space. Now that he's being held, talked to so softly, he realises how stupid he'd been, to shut everyone one like this, especially Max.

Max, who had been by his side on the worst weekend of his life. Max who had called, over and over, trying to stay inside of Daniel's walls, instead of being shut out. Max, who apparently held no grudges for all of it, taking care of him without questions.

He doesn't realise his breathing has picked up again until Max shushes him softly, rubbing his back with big, gentle hands.

"It's okay, you are okay, I am here now. You are here now."

"What happened?" Daniel finds himself ask, half choked, muffled by his unwillingness to move away.

Max's hands stutter on his back for a second as he shrugs, almost dislodging Daniel from his position.

"I am not sure. You appeared in my bed, and you did not even wake up. And you looked very tired, so of course I didn't wake you. I think..." Max pauses, uncertain, but then carries on. Never one to not go for the gap. "I think maybe I was thinking very hard about you, and you maybe needed to be here. Or not there."

As if the universe would be that simple. Daniel needed Max, so Daniel was with Max.

Daniel knows nothing worked that way. You don't get everything you need just because you want it, and you don't get everything you want because you need it.

And yet, here he is. Where he needs and wants to be, despite denying it for so long.

"Christmas magic," he says, forcing a rough chuckle out, feeling Max laugh a little with him.

"Yes," he agrees, as if Daniel hadn't been joking, trying to build up at least some of the fragile walls that Max had knocked down so easily, just with a hug.

"I think we should go back to sleep," Max adds after a while, still rubbing Daniel's back, "and then tomorrow I can lend you my plane, or we can talk about why you are sad."

Daniel flinches, still surprised, even after all these years, by Max's ability to cut straight to the core of things, no nice words to beat around the bush.

"I'm not..." he starts, but Max cuts him off, making his mouth snap shut.

"Don't lie to me, Daniel."

His voice is still warm but there's steel behind it, an order Daniel doesn't want to defy. So Daniel doesn't.

He doesn't know what time it is, how much he's already slept, but he's still tired, and he's comfortable and warm in a way he hasn't been in forever.

And Max knows him, and Max has got him, and Max won't leave.

So Daniel closes his eyes and goes back to sleep.

[glamourscat]

¿Besos? | Meguru Bachira x fem!manager reader

synopsis: the manager of the FC Barcha team, helps Bachira practice his Spanish. And maybe it turns into something more

cw: explicit towards the end, Bachira's bad spanish lmao

“¿H—hola, cómo estás tú? Mi amigo mejor, pero no habla mucho bien.”

Your head turns back, eyebrows furrowing in confusion at the words you just heard. What the hell? As you enter the lounge room of the FC Barcha team you are met with the sight of Bachira, his head down and the back of his hair up thanks to a small hair clip in the shape of a bee. His tongue pokes out from his lips in concentration as he marks and scribbles on his notebook.

“Bachira?” you call gently as you approach him.

The boy’s head whips around to meet your eyes, his face lighting up immediately as he sees you.

“Y/N-chan!” he exclaims, his tone overly excited as always. Before you know it, he has pounced on you for a bear hug, his legs almost wrapping around you—almost, if it weren’t for the fact that the unexpected hug almost made you fall backward—almost though.

“¡Ay, Dios mío!, Bachira?!” you say with a small gasped chuckle as he had almost knocked the breath out of you.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, giggling quietly, his head on your shoulder tilted to stare at you with those bright yellow eyes of his. His cheeks are slightly red as he squeezes you a bit in the hug.

“Are you practicing your Spanish? I can help if you want,” you murmur, gently caressing his hair, making him almost purr at your touch.

“Sí, por favor,” he murmurs, giving you his deadly puppy eyes.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Well, that was a mistake. It’s been three hours and you two have moved from the lounge room to your dorm room. Bless his heart, but Bachira has the memory of a goldfish. Just when you think he understands a concept, he shows you that he, in fact, does not. It’s been hours of trying to teach him basic Spanish grammar, and he’s been moving, fidgeting and whining like crazy. It’s like talking to a toddler.

“If you don’t want to learn, we can stop, especially if you’re tired—”

“Noo… I want to,” he pouts, kicking his feet in the air in annoyance as he lays on your bed with you.

“You’re doing everything but that, Bachira. It’s not working. It’s okay to take a break—” you start, but he interrupts you again.

“No,” he whines, hiding his face in your legs.

“Meguru…” you say, side eyeing him, his name coming out slightly harsher than intended.

“Don’t be mad at me,” he whispers, turning to face you but still resting his head on your lap.

You sigh, rubbing your eyes for a moment. “I’m not mad… I’m just tired. We’ve been doing this for hours.”

Bachira’s eyes soften as he looks up at you, his usual playful demeanor replaced by a rare moment of seriousness. “I’m sorry, Y/N-chan. I just… I want to get better at this but it’s so difficult” he sighs, pouting a bit in contemplation.

“But, I want to keep trying. Can we do that little game you suggested earlier? The one where I ask you questions in Japanese and you in Spanish back to me and whoever gets the answer wrong, needs to take something off? Pretty please” he says, smiling a bit.

“Really? Now you wanna do that?” Your voice amused as you nudge him.

His soft giggles filled the room as he kissed your thighs gently. “Pretty please?” He repeats, stretching the last syllables.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

You don’t know how you always end up in these situations. Bachira has a way of expressing himself through his actions that make you a bit weak in the knees. And each damned time you two go from doing something productive to this… Like now. Where you got your 5th question wrong. Not that he was doing much better, left in only boxers and one sock. But it was your turn now, and since you got a question wrong this round, your bra came off.

Not surprised though, when his hands immediately found your breasts. And your lips found his. Soon it wasn’t really about the questions anymore, as the focus shifted on the rather good makeout session you two were having.

“Wasn’t part of the plan..” you moaned between kisses

“Hmm, maybe. I am not opposed to it though” he moaned back as his hips grind against yours, making you feel his erection. “Mami, hazme sentir bien por favor.” he whispers, in the most filthy whiny tone he could master.

Your eyes go wide at the words he spoke in Spanish, mouth slightly agape, staring at him dumbfounded.

Maybe, after all, the afternoon had not been wasted as you initially thought.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Mami, hazme sentir bien por favor= mummy, please make me feel good

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[melrosing]

MATE I have a feeling I am so late to this but what happened to your job!

lmao! so much! but I don’t have it anymore! ok you didn’t ask for the full story lmao but im always in the mood for venting lately so the full tale under the cut on What Happened With My Job

so without getting into detail they have been absolute asses all year!! like with each other the women in my team are like Bosom Pals but apart from a handful of pleasant people they just have no time for me lol it’s very cliquey??

anyway. we had some really difficult clients in the Spring who were ready to throw in the towel at every stage of our work process bc it was unfamiliar territory for them. I was leading the project but really struggling to meet their insane expectations like it was HUNDREDS of emails a day from like 8AM to 8PM and their ‘head of’ sometimes swearing at me on calls with a dozen other people and thinking I can work magic and get [MAJOR CELEBRITY] involved in a thing for them when objectively I can’t and just scream. anyway my directors get really uneasy because this is a big client and they don’t want them getting scared off so when the client starts reaching a crescendo of frustration they fully just scapegoat me right at the end of the campaign (at which point our results are great! lmao) and say it will be Dealt With

around the same time I start to realise that the business is failing and my ‘specialist position’ is typically the first kind to go and that COINCIDENTALLY they are on my ass day after day trying to insist im not meeting their ‘standards’ and genuinely making up the most insane reasons why not (like I know I’d be biased saying this but SERIOUSLY) so im like ohhh right. I see where this is going

THEN my dad gets goddamn incurable brain cancer and my whole life falls apart. and they suddenly have to be like ‘oh no. I am sorry this has happened. oh dear.’ I’m off two weeks having a complete mental breakdown until im kindly reminded that cough I’ve almost used up my statutory days of compassionate leave! but per company guidelines they do have to manage my workload whilst i er. struggle indefinitely w the emotional burden?? so my capacity is thus reduced and man you can tell they’re not thrilled about it

so they basically check in every Friday for a month saying ‘hope everything is ok can you take on more work yet’ CONSPICUOUSLY never asking how anything is going with dad (like when I first logged back in I had a catch up with my line manager and kind of tremulously started talking about what had happened and she literally said ‘it’s ok you don’t need to tell me the details’)

THEN I get GASTROENTERITIS 💃🏻 god knows how. but it’s a bad one and I physically can’t eat for a week man I eat like a banana a day and even that makes me sick lol. but whatever the first day I phone in and tell my director im not well. she’s like ‘WELL I ACTUALLY HAVE SO MUCH TO MANAGE RIGHT NOW SO THIS REALLY ISN’T HELPFUL LIKE I GET YOU CAN’T HELP BEING SICK BUT I REALLY NEED TO BE ABLE TO RELY ON MY TEAM TO SUPPORT COS WE HAVE A LOT COMING UP’ (I’m not even kidding)

so on the third day I log back in bc I feel like I need to just push through it but oh no im still vomiting my guts out so I message the same director ‘look I think maybe. I am still sick’ and she says NOTHING in response till I suddenly get a text from my LINE MANAGER saying ‘Hi. X says you say you still don’t feel well. We understand it’s food poisoning. That usually only lasts 24 hours’. LIKE??? apparently with all the compassionate leave I’d had to take, the sick leave was just too much for them to bear lmao so i got myself a goddamn doctor’s note and have to announce every day for the rest of that week ‘I’m still not well sorry’ (they never ever reply)

Then finally I recover and I log back in and my director doesn’t ask me how I am or anything literally just says ‘WELL let’s get straight to business’ and explains the status of everything at me for 20 mins going on about how stressful it all is.

And then an hour later I get a surprise call from my head of department telling me unforch they’re making me redundant. can’t be helped. understand this is a bad time for you personally. (said head of department has never addressed what bad thing is happening personally rn). and im in shock. till i figure that what with my dad this is probably an appalling time to make up some performance based reason to fire me so this was their only option

and then finally I see the paperwork and realise severance pay is a third of my annual salary. so i promptly get over it, log out halfway through the month whilst still being paid for my time till the end of it, and NOT ONE of those fuckers has even reached out to say goodbye in all that time but god knows I never want to hear from them again so?? fuck it! i told HR everything anyway I was like look I don’t want to take formal action but?? I think you should know.

and now im just gonna chill for Christmas w my dad and my fam and my pals and my cats and do my weird asoiaf shit on tumblr I guess lol. so there we go that’s what happened!!!!

tl;dr got made redundant lol

[luvyeni]

( reaction ) riize when you’re ovulating ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 라이즈 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁  using riize when you’re ovulating ヾ

OT7!라이즈・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎ wc ・ ‎1k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. hear me out ☝ riding Riize and using them like a toy or whatever you want because you're ovulating.....

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 <3 !!!

﹙ 𐙚 : shotaro ﹚ .ᐟ

your ovulation week really puts his dancers' stamina to the test , but he does keep up – ready to be used by you whenever you need him. “again baby?” he smiled as you climbed into his lap. “so-sorry taro , but i need you.” the feeling of your warm cunt suffocating his cock. “fuck , don’t worry baby , take what you want love.” lets you move on your own pace , just sitting back , toying with your sensitive nipples. “fuck baby you feel good?” he was smiling as you used him , he loved this. “so sensitive baby , you gonna cum again?” you nodded , legs tired as you came , but that didn’t stop you. “taro , need you.” he sprung into action , wrapping his arms around your waist fucking up into you. “fuck taro im gonna cum.” it’s not about if he cums when you’re ovulating it’s about calming you down for a while , and if that means letting you use him to cum then he’s down forsure.

“that’s it baby , i know you want to cum again , cum for me.”

﹙ 𐙚 : eunseok ﹚ .ᐟ

the only time he’ll let you do what you want — but that doesn’t mean he still doesn’t have control of the situation. “slow down now.” he commanded , you whined , your clit grinding against his pelvis. “fuck , I said slow down.” he slapped your ass. “seok please.” you whined , holding his shoulders. “listen here.” he grabbed your cheeks, you finally slowed down. “just because you’re ovulating doesn’t mean you can act like a disobedient slut.” he let your face go. “o-okay.” you moaned , he tapped your ass. “good , now keep going.” you resumed bouncing on his cock , his tip kissing your cervix. “yeah fuck just like that.”

“that’s it keep bouncing on my dick like a good girl and i’ll let you cum as much as you want.”

﹙ 𐙚 : sungchan ﹚ .ᐟ

he loves this, he wants you to do this, use his cock, milk him for all that he has and then more. sex when you’re ovulating is the best sex in his eyes ( even tho it doesn’t matter ) it last for hours and almost every day … he’s in heaven. “oh fuck you’re killing me baby.” he chuckled , his head sticking to his forehead due to swear as you sunk down in his cock for like the 5th time , already full of his past loads. “fu-fuck im gonna shoot blanks if you keep going.” your sweet cunt clenching around him. “we-we can stop.” he slapped your ass making you yelp. “did I ask you to fucking stop?” so you didn’t you actually sped up. “yes fuuuuck.” his hand coming back down to your ass again. “that’s it.”

“keep going , use my fucking cock.”

﹙ 𐙚 : wonbin ﹚ .ᐟ

now this little fucker is a tease, he knows you’re hornier than normal because you’re ovulating, but he just can’t help but tease you. “no don’t move yet.” you whimpered out. “stop it.” he had been holding you down on his cock, feeling him twitching inside of you. “i need to fuck you.” you moved your hips against his wishes , he chuckled at your neediness. “need to fuck me?” he groaned watching your precious cunt suck him in. “so slutty baby.” he said , slapping your ass as you bounced on him, legs slap against his. “using my cock , fuck , humping me like a bunny in heat.” you moaned. “is that what you are? a slutty bunny wanting to use my cock to get off?” you nodded , “yes , please fuck!” he slapped your ass , signaling you speed up.

“then speed up slut, ride my cock like you mean it.”

﹙ 𐙚 : seunghan ﹚ .ᐟ

wants to treat you like a princess when you’re ovulating; but knows you like to take control when you’re ovulating so he lets you — at least that’s what you think. “baby slow down.” he said softly, holding your waist. “i'm not going anywhere princess.” you whined as you held his shoulders, his cock stretching you out just how you wanted him too. “just want to fuck you.” he chuckled, kissing your bust tenderly , you nipples sensitive. “you feel good, baby.” he said , he’d hold off on cumming simply so you could continue. “fuck hannie im gonna cum.” he let you cum , but you kept going. “fu-fuck baby.” he groaned. “hannie im gonna cum again.” you were insatiable but he knew you’d calm down eventually. “go a head princess.”

“cum all you want.”

﹙ 𐙚 : sohee ﹚ .ᐟ

sohee ears and his cock stands up the moment you randomly told him that you were ovulating. “lay down.” you told him, and he obey — because why wouldn’t he? you unbuckled his pants, ridding them of his bottoms along with your bottoms. “so pretty baby.” he groaned as you stroked his cock, sinking down on him. “oh fuck use me baby.” you began to move you hips , bouncing on his length. he was more of a mess than you were , you were using his cock as your own personal toy , you had been at it for about an hour and you didn’t seem to have any plans on stopping any time soon. “oh fuck baby.” he whined , throwing head back in pleasure. “fuck.”

“just keep using my cock , keep making yourself cum on me.”

﹙ 𐙚 : anton ﹚ .ᐟ

gives you exactly what you want , no fighting. he just lays back and allows you to do what you want to do. “o-oh fuck.” he moaned. “fuck baby this feels so good.” your hand was wrapped around his neck lightly not choking him as you rode his cock. both of you were lowkey fucking each other out , this always happened when you were ovulating and he loved it. he’s a dom , but he loves when you take what you want from him. “wait baby fuck.” he moaned , the room was hot , and both of you were sweaty — and anton was spent, you had milked him dry , but you weren’t letting up. “fuck baby i don’t think i can cum again.” you whimpered , still needing his cock even if you were already stuffed full of him. “pl-please one more , just one more.” you moaned. “fuck im gonna cum.” he was sure he was gonna start shooting blanks soon , but he allowed you to keep going.

“fuck baby keep going if you want.”

©️LUVYENI

[hailsatanacab]

Family Dinners - dpxdc

"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.

The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.

"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.

"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.

"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."

"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."

Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.

Ancients, that's so weird!

The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.

Wait. Family dinners?

He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.

"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.

"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.

From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.

"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"

"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"

"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."

"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."

The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.

Come on, Danny, recover!

"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."

"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?

"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."

"Costume? What do you mean?"

Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.

"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!

"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.

"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.

His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.

"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.

Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"

"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"

"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."

"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.

It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.

It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.

Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.

"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."

Once again, the whole table falls into silence.

"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"

"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"

"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."

Danny's grin freezes in place.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."

"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"

Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.

"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.

"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."

An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.

"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.

"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."

"What did happen?"

"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."

"How long in the future was it?"

"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.

Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"

"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."

"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."

"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"

"What?"

"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."

Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.

"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.

"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."

"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"

"Damian, stop—"

"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."

"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."

"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.

"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."

"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."

"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."

"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."

[chelseeebe]

bump n’ grind

a lil continuation to gimme a hand wherein our lovely reader helps eddie out after an embarrassing mistake.

18+ mdni. again, mostly just smut. maybe some angst towards the end i guessss. eddie munson x female reader.

eddie’s on cloud nine.

his head floating well above the pretty pink room he was currently in.

not entirely sure how he ended up here but also not at all angry about it. a night of rum and beer had lead him to this.

sarah.. savanna.. something, sits atop of his lap, bouncing off of his thighs like a jacked up rabbit.

he’s clawing at her back, trying and failing, to keep a steady grip on her wild body. appreciating the soft squeaks that left her mouth with every bounce.

and before he can really think about it enough to stop his mouth, he says it. wanting to dig his own grave the second his lips spread.

a long, drawn out iteration of your name.

she stops, immediately. breathless as she grips his shoulders, “what’d you say?”

his cock aches and his cheeks burn, any hope that she’d just ignore it and continue had flown out of the window, “what?” acting clueless, “i didn’t.. didn’t say anything.”

eddie knows full well what had slipped out of his loose lips, muscle memory from the embarrassing amount of times he had whined your name while imagining that it was your hand wrapped around his cock instead.

“you said somebody else’s name,” she frowns, sounding far too close to a possessive girlfriend rather than the one night stand that she actually was.

“did i? i don’t really remember.. does it matter?” with full sincerity, wondering if she was going to stay on his dick or climb off and throw him out.

“if i’m having sex with someone, i at least expect them to know my name,” she scowls, clambering from his lap to the empty space next to him.

“shit,” he mumbles, head in his hands, “fuck. i’m sorry,” sobering up instantly, embarrassed by his blunder.

she sighs, taking pity on his pathetic self, “is she your ex or something?” re-dressing herself with an old t-shirt, rightfully putting an end to their encounter.

“no..” eddie frowns, shaking his head, “she’s my.. my friend.”

best friend actually. making it all the more confusing and complicated. he’d spare her of all the gory details, for her sake.

“oh,” the girl gawps, stifling her laugh. “you should tell her,” leaning over to grab her phone, no doubt to tell all of her friends about eddie’s embarrassing freudian slip.

he’d deserve it.

-

eddie perches on the end of your bed, not daring to move any closer for fear of losing it and touching you like he dreamed of doing.

it had been four months, two weeks and five days since you’d jerked him off in that tiny bathroom.

not that he was counting.

and still nothing more had happened between you. a few instances where eddie had thought you were close but nothing of any real consequence.

nevertheless, a day hadn’t passed since where he hadn’t thought about it at least once.

he’s memorised every single frame of that video, all the times you pant and twist your hand. the exact second his phone falls onto the counter and the video changes to an image of the back of his head.

every. last. detail.

you jab your foot into his back, peering over your phone screen to frown at him, “what’s wrong with you?”

eddie sighs, letting his shoulders slump, still staring at the torn ac/dc poster he had ripped off the wall for you. it reminds him too much of times where things weren’t so complicated.

“i hooked up with someone the other day,” he states monotonously, uncaring anymore about telling you what had really happened.

“okay?” you jab him again, “why are you sad about that?” confusion echoing.

“i’m not sad.”

you sit up, the mattress shifting behind him, “then what the fuck’s your problem?” leaning forward to rest your chin on his shoulder, in that similar position you were in all those months ago.

sometimes he wishes you’d never touched him. that he had just settled with chrissy and you had never been an option. not that you really were now, still unobtainable, taunting and teasing him.

“i said your name,” he exhales in one big breath, “i said your name while i was having sex with her.”

his shoulders felt lighter now, despite you still resting on them. something about the relief of finally letting you know how he felt. embracing his stupidity.

“really?” your mouth falls open, “holy shit, that’s funny,” he can feel your hands creep up his back, sending shivers over his skin.

eddie shakes his head, at a loss for words. he could see how you’d find it funny, but he couldn’t see the humour in it himself. in fact, it was a marker for the absolute desperation he felt towards your new complex relationship. not only had you taken over all of his waking thoughts, but you’d somehow subliminally crept into his intoxicated mind thoo.

“what were you thinking about? when you said it,” you pry, head twisting around to look at him.

“you.”

“me?” you rasp, right into his ear. “what about me?” feeling your breath against his cheek, transporting him straight back to wayne’s cramped bathroom.

his eyes fall shut, like he’s in some humiliation ritual, getting off to the way you teased him so.

“that video.. that stupid video,” he whispers, tuned in to every twitch of your fingers on his back, your soft breaths in his ear.

“oh,” he can hear the smirk in your voice, unwilling to open his eyes to see it again, “is that it? just the video?”

he doesn’t understand why you’re asking so many questions. obviously enjoying the way he squirmed under your touch, antsy and reluctant to say anything.

“i was.. picturing you were her,” he squeezes out, blood rushing to not only his cheeks, but his cock too.

“aw,” you coo, hand sliding higher, “tell me how it felt,” voice thick with desire, fingers circling around his shaking shoulders.

“good..” his eyes squeeze together, feeling his jeans shift uncomfortably, “not as good as you did,” almost begging, pleading for it.

you hum, your other hand finding the top of his thigh, dangerously close to the tent in his jeans.

if you kept this up, he’d cum all over his fucking pants.

you squeeze the skin, a low grumble from yours lips, “what position were you in?”

oh god.

“w-why?” eddie chokes, seeing stars behind his eyelids.

“i just wanna know, eds.. so i can picture the scene.”

his head tilts back, allowing you the opportunity to creep into the crook of his neck, traces of your lips just barely touching the sensitive skin.

“please tell me,” you mumble, vibrating against his trachea, making his toes curl, grounding himself with the rough carpet.

“she was on top,” he spits, balling his fist around your blanket.

it didn’t feel real between his fingers, poorly substituting your body for the cotton.

“oh,” you shift, the bed frame creaking as you clamber into his lap, resting atop of his thighs. “like this?”

he doesn’t open his eyes. can’t, not without cumming his pants right there. but he can feel you, perched just below his crotch,

“what’d she do now? hmm?” dragging your nails down his chest, your fingers prod at his skin, forcing him to flop back against the mattress.

the space allows you to shuffle upwards, your cunt brushing against his aching cock, leaving him no choice but to turn into pure mush beneath you.

“fuck,” he breathes, daring a glance in hopes to keep the image ingrained in his mind forever.

your hips begin to grind against his crotch, groaning softly with your palms flat to his chest.

“you like that?” you purr, rocking back and forth on top for he rough denim of his jeans.

“i need you.. fuck, please,” he keens, fingertips so firmly pressed into your waist that they’d leave indentations for days.

you don’t respond, sighing softly as the friction between you grows stronger, cruel and twisted in the way you tease him.

he doesn’t understand what all of these almost-encounters mean. it’s like you want him but not fully. holding yourself back for the right moment or perhaps just trying to keep him going until somebody else came along.

his hands slide around to your ass, moving with every jerk and cant of your hips. gruff, frustrated sighs leave his mouth, mixing somewhere in the air with your whiny moans. need and urgency ricocheting around the walls of your room, yet neither one of you prepared to take it all the way.

“jesus eds, are you gonna cum?” you breathe, as much as this was for his benefit, you were getting off as well.

that alone makes this other worldly. even if he was doing absolutely none of the work, you were writhing and gasping just as he was.

it’s almost incomprehensible how much you using him to get off was frying his brain.

eddie was about to combust, the closeness of it all, so near and yet still so far apart. two layers of clothes felt like a million miles. finally brave enough to open his eyes, hoping to keep this image seared into his brain forever.

“yeah.. yeah i’m gonna cum,” he whines, jerking his hips up to meet yours, rocking against each other in perfect rhythm, “please.. oh fuck- fuckfuckfuck,” his cock positioned perfectly between your folds, covering your pajama shorts with your slick.

“good boy,” you breathe, fingers twisted into his shirt, tugging at the fabric, not letting up on your torturous grinding.

your tone is somewhere between mocking and sincere, but he doesn’t care. doesn’t have the brain capacity to if he’s honest.

his cock twitches against his boxers, hips shuddering into the air as an uncomfortable warmth overtakes his crotch.

“oh god.. shit,” the sudden realisation of the mess in his pants, how grotesquely down bad he was for you, hits all at once.

your lips curve, shuffling down to the top of his thighs. you don’t exchange words, just a sly glance that erupts into giggles. leaning down to peck his lips as your hands let go of their hold on his chest.

eddie’s hands don’t move, gripping onto your hips, hoping you’ll stay there for the rest of eternity. not only had he cum in his pants, he had done so at a disturbingly fast rate. a few minutes of what was essentially dry humping had left him sticky and full of shame.

“are you ever gonna let me fuck you?” he asks, practically begging for your mercy, needing to know for his own sake.

he likes to think that if you said no, he’d be able to walk away with his dignity, to never let this embarrassing display for pathetic yearning happen again.

yet deep down, he also knows that that’ll never happen. you could string him along forever and ever and he’d never do a thing about it other than cherish the moments you let him touch you.

your laugh topples over, slinging your leg over his waist to kneel beside his lifeless body, “one day,” kneeing him softly in the side, “go get changed, i’m hungry,” climbing off of the mattress, disappearing from his eyesight.

his head flops back onto the bed, sweaty and exhausted, ignoring the feel of his boxers clinging to his skin and the inevitable wet patch seeping through to his jeans.

an insatiable churning in his stomach for more, for you.

but eddie is eddie, so instead of doing any of the things that he really wanted to do, he rolls off of your bed with a sigh, shimmying out of his jeans just as you’d asked him to.

[ylangelegy]

Hiii. Can I request a oneshot based on this HAHAHAH pleasee please like short oneshot will do!!! 🥰🥰 https://www.tumblr.com/svtsofthours/768423753034104832/seungcheol-jihoon-isnt-answering-his-phone?source=share

📞 do not disturb (jihoon x reader)

or: jihoon always answers. no questions asked.

★ footnotes: i debated the ethics (ethics?!) of taking this on, but i'm ultimately weak to anything and everything uji-related. prompt is fully by @svtsofthours ♡ word count: >980

Jihoon has a bad habit of leaving his phone on 'Do Not Disturb' mode.

In his line of work, getting in the flow was the most important thing. Inspiration could be dashed as easily as it came, and Jihoon's not about to risk his momentum being killed by a TikTok from Vernon or a 'wyd?' from Wonwoo.

His members call him vicious for it, but Jihoon is also the first to remind them that everything he does is for them. That's always the quickest way to shutting them up.

There are still ways to reach him, of course, when he's in the zone. Some members will drop by the studio unannounced. Some know to go through Jihoon's manager instead.

And some have begun to realize that they could simply just ask you.

It's another one of those long evenings, the type that has Jihoon feeling like his retinas are burning from all the time he's spent at his DAW. He doesn't remember the last time he looked away from the song he's working on, but it's a small price to pay for what he thinks is shaping up to be a potential title track. He just needs to tweak—

The thought is disrupted by the shrill ring of his cellphone.

Without so much of a second thought, Jihoon is reaching for the device and answering the call without even checking the ID. He has at least enough wits to know that he's been on 'Do Not Disturb' since he stepped into the studio, which means the caller could only be one person.

"Hi, honey," he says.

His voice is a tired rasp but the fondness bleeds through all the same. The sudden reprieve has him sinking a little further into his computer chair, like he's just registered how utterly spent he is.

That exhaustion pales in comparison to the warmth that floods his chest when you greet him back with your ever-so sweet, "Hey, darling. Still in the studio?"

You already know the answer, and yet you still ask. Jihoon feels a little endeared by it as he absentmindedly runs his free hand over his face. "You know it," he says. "What's up?"

"Seungcheol and Soonyoung have been trying to get in touch with you," you inform him.

Jihoon raises an eyebrow. He pulls his phone away from his ear to check his lockscreen and, sure enough, you're right. Six (6) missed calls from Coups-hyung. Six (6) missed calls from Hamzzi.

"I've been working," Jihoon says into the receiver as he brings his phone back up. "Are they with you right now?"

"Just Seungcheol. Here—"

Jihoon has half a mind to tell you, no, please, do not pass the phone over to Seungcheol, but the leader's whining voice is already piercing through the call. "You answered their call in less than ten seconds!" Seungcheol proclaims, the pout in his voice audible. "What the hell, Jihoon-ah?!"

"It wasn't less than ten seconds," Jihoon protests weakly, feeling the tips of his ears burn red at the insinuation of just how fast he could fold when it came to you.

Seungcheol doesn't give a damn about semantics. His point still stands. "You didn't answer a single one of my calls," the older boy complains. "I can't believe this!"

So help me, God. Jihoon knows he's already going to have to get the man one pastry or another to compensate for this misgiving. "Right, sorry, sorry," Jihoon huffs out. "Why were you calling, anyway?"

Seungcheol bitches and moans for a couple more minutes before eventually breaking the news about some brand endorsement that they need to sign on for. Jihoon promises to check his e-mail and have the contract in before the morning, which doesn't really appease Seungcheol.

Even as the leader passes the phone back to you, he's mumbling something like 'unbelievable' and 'ungrateful kid'. Jihoon rolls his eyes despite the fact that neither of you can see it.

His mounting annoyance ebbs at your voice, at your gentle question of, "When are you going to finish up?"

Jihoon lets out a low hum, eyeing the aborted song on his laptop. He had wanted to make changes on something— the bridge? the chorus?— but the idea was gone now, replaced only with the crick in his neck and the ache of longing.

"I think I could wrap up for the night," he decides. "We can order in some pizza and watch that drama you like. How does that sound?"

Jihoon can hear the way you try to tamp down your excitement in favor of tentatively asking, "Are you sure? I can always wait for you, darling."

And, oh, he loves you for it. He loves that your first and foremost concern is the disruption to his work, the easy way he throws it all aside in favor of a night in with you. Jihoon is usually much stronger than this, he swears.

But he's a weak, weak man whenever you come calling.

"I'm sure," he says. "See you in ten."

"See you. Take care." A beat. And then, you add in a whisper— almost like you're a little abashed to be saying it in front of Seungcheol— "I love you."

Even though there's nobody around to hear him say it, even though the words are yours and yours alone, Jihoon's voice softens to match your tone.

"I love you, too. Can't wait to come home to you, honey."

Jihoon ends the call at that because he knows you have a thing about not wanting to be the one to put down the phone. He stares down at his device and its Notification Center, where there's dozens of missed calls, texts, and e-mails. Evidence of what he's ignored in favor of the craft.

His 'Do Not Disturb' stays on, with only one exception to the rule: All notifications are allowed from you.

svtsofthours' post ->

Seungcheol: Jihoon isn’t answering his phone. You: I’ll call. Seungcheol: Soonyoung and I have both tried six times each, what makes you think— Jihoon: Hi, honey.

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Princess & The Pilot

In which Lando Norris meets his childhood crush, who just happens to be an actual princess.

Warnings: none Pairing: Lando Norris x BritishPrincess!Reader Word Count: 3.5k or something

(quick note: running late for a meeting this morning but wanted to get this out. I'll update the tag list later tonight when/if I have time. Enjoy the new seriesssss!)

Master List

There must be a foreign power invading London. 

That is the only reason you can think that your assistant would be waking you up at 8am the morning after you spent nearly 12 hours entertaining Argentinian foreign dignitaries with your father yesterday. When you had tumbled into bed at 2am after the state dinner the previous night, the last words you had mumbled to Noelle were ‘please don’t wake me up before noon tomorrow.’ 

This was supposed to be your one day off after attending engagements with your parents four days in a row. 

“I’m so sorry, your highness.” Noelle whispers from where she stands at the foot of her bed. You immediately wonder if the palace groundskeepers would be willing to install a set of locks on the doors to your apartments that only you had the keys to. 

“Noelle, you’ve been my assistant for how many years now? You can call me by my first name.” You grumble from under the thick cream duvet that you had tugged over your head moments before. 

You glare at Noelle but immediately regret it when you see the anxious look on the older woman’s face. This wasn’t her choice, you realized. “What does my father want now?” 

Noelle worries at the corner of her lip before holding out her cell phone. “He’s been trying to reach you for an hour now. Insisted I come wake you up.” 

“He’s been unable to reach me because he swore up and down last night that I’d get today off from anything family related.” You complain, unable to keep the whine out of your voice.  

Tossing off the covers, you swing your legs over the side of your king sized bed before reaching out to take Noelle’s phone from her. You can see the active call ticking away with your father’s name on the caller ID ‘HRH King Edward’ 

“Good morning Papa.” You expertly adjust your tone, knowing that if your father hears one single hint of grouchiness in your voice you’ll never hear the end of it. “Everything okay?” 

“Your brother is sick.” His tone is brisk and you try to tell yourself he doesn’t mean to be short with you. He is literally the King of England after all. You’re sure he’s got a few things on his mind beyond worrying about waking his youngest child up at the crack of dawn. 

“Does he need me to bring him something? Soup? Medicine?” 

Your father scoffs on the other end of the line. “Don’t be silly.” He scolds. “My doctor has already been in to see him this morning. It’s just the flu, but he is contagious.” 

You’re silent on your end of the phone, knowing there is more to come as the news of your older brother being sick didn’t really warrant an early morning phone call. 

“I need you to take over the engagement he was going to do today.” 

It takes every ounce of royal training for you not to groan. You’d been attending events and engagements all weekend long, standing in for your mother who also was sick with the flu. “Can’t Mike do it?” 

Your youngest brother Michael was in his final year at Oxford before he’d go on to do the requisite military training but he was still able to engagements here and there. 

“Michael has exams this week, so he is unavailable.” 

You nearly suggest your sister-in-law Charlotte take her husbands place but know that would also be turned down as she’s been busy with her new well baby charity and juggling having two young children at home as well. The weight of the expectations of being the second eldest child of the King of England hangs heavy on your shoulders as the sunlight pours in through the curtains Noelle has drawn back. It’s a gorgeous spring day in London, which you know is rare this time of year. You had been planning on spending the day out on the private gardens that are tucked away in a hidden part of the palace not open to tourists reading a book in the quiet. 

“What’s the engagement then?” You sigh, resigning yourself to the fact that once again, your family duties were coming before your own personal agenda. 

You tried so hard not to be resentful of the weight of who you were and most of the time, you were fine with your station in life. You lived a very privileged, if not somewhat regimented and controlled, life as the only daughter to King Edward and Queen Matilde of the United Kingdom. Your parents, while busy with their own lives and duties, adored you and your two brothers, Sebastian and Michael. They had worked hard when you were younger to make sure that you and your siblings were raised as normally as possible, which hadn’t always been easy. 

“You’ll be going out to the Silverstone Circuit in Towcester to meet with some people from the McLaren Formula 1 team. They're the Duke of Dover Awards newest partner and their drivers are doing some laps the track with children from the local schools. They’d like to take you on the track too.” 

Your brother had started the Duke of Dover Awards when he had married Charlotte 10 years ago and had inherited the title as the heir to the throne. The foundation awarded hundreds of thousands of pounds each year to kids and teenagers that applied to be recipients of grants to improve their communities, start small businesses, and conduct scientific research. It was your brother’s brainchild and baby and you were shocked that Sebastian had agreed to allow anyone that wasn’t him to go near an event of theirs. 

Sighing, you stand and shrug on the silk robe that was hanging form the little hook next to your bed. You were certainly not getting a day off today, now were you? “Okay, sounds straight forward enough. Does Noelle have the details?” 

“Yes, Noelle has everything you’ll need. Thank you for helping, little dove.” 

Your heart squeezes as the nickname your father has used since you were a toddler. You knew he carried a heavy weight with the crown on his head and expected nothing but the best from himself, and by extension you and your siblings, at all times because of it. He meant well and loved you fiercely, you knew that but sometimes it got lost in the legacy of what it meant to be a Windsor. 

“Of course, Papa.” 

You hang up and hand the phone back to your assistant. “Papa says you have all the details. Could you have everything printed out so I can read it in the car. Towcester is quite far away, isn’t it?” 

“About an hour and a half, if traffic is good.” 

You nod, mind jumping into preparation mode. The timeline that had landed in your inbox while you had been on the phone with your father said you needed to be there a little after 1pm, which gave you enough time to get ready. “Can you call Tibby, give her the details and have her pull some outfits for me? I can do my own makeup and I don’t think I’ll need anything fancy for hair, yeah?” 

Noelle nods, eyes skimming her emails. “Your brother’s valet says he was planning on wearing jeans and a jumper, so it sounds casual. Natural makeup and a sporty ponytail, maybe?” 

“That’s fine, I can do that myself.” Sometimes it chafed at you how much had to go into your appearance. You could never really go out looking sloppy or unkempt because the bad press that it inevitably invited drove your mother crazy. If your father was preoccupied with the weight of his crown, your mother was preoccupied with the weight of what her image meant to millions of people. It was a difficult relationship to navigate and you didn’t always do a good job, so you tried to maintain at least the minimum appearance standards your mother requested just to appease her. 

Noelle snaps into action, calling Sebastian’s valet to get some more details on the people that will be present along with any other notes he had thought important. You pad towards your private bathroom to take a shower and get ready for what you assumed would be another routine royal engagement. 

And boy, how wrong you were. 

“Are you nervous?” Oscar mutters as he comes to lean against the counter in the garage next to where Lando stands, scrolling on his phone.

Lando looks up, confusion knitting his brows together. “Nervous for what?” 

As far as he knew, this was just going to be another routine event with some kids and the Duke of Dover, who he'd already met last year during the race at Silverstone. Nothing to be nervous about really.

“To meet the princess!” Oscar chuckles, knocking his shoulder into Lando's.

“Princess?" The crease on his forehead deepens even more. "I thought it was the Duke that was coming. Isn’t it his awards thing that we're partnering with?” 

Oscar shrugs. “Zak said the Duke is sick. His sister is coming instead. Apparently she just pulled in as well. Sophie is running around like a chicken with it's head cut off. Something about not being prepared for her."  

Oh. A thick sense of anxiety settles in the pit of Lando's stomach. Oh fuck. This changed things. He certainly hadn't been nervous before but now he was, knowing that it was you that he'd be driving around the track instead of your brother.

Like most guys his age, Lando had grown up with photos of you taped to the back of his door and indulged in several...interesting and not very polite fantasies when he was in his teens. In fact, now that Lando thinks about it, you were probably his very first crush. You had been the first princess to be born into the Royal family in two generations and the press had fallen in love with you the day you were born, dubbing you the English Rose that was going to save the monarchy.

Once you reached your 18th birthday and debuted into society, taking your place beside your older brother and parents by working for the family full time while going to university to study international business, the country had fallen even more in love with you. Your family was well loved by the entirety of the Common Wealth but you? You were absolutely everyone's favorite Windsor by a country mile. And that included the British Formula One driver.

"You okay, mate?" Oscar's thick accent shakes Lando out of his day dream.

"Oh, yeah." Lando replies weakly, rubbing the palm of his hand over his jaw, glad he had shaved this morning and put a bit of extra care into his hair.

"Boys!" Sophie, McLaren's head of Public Relations, yells at the entrance of the garage, fists on her hips as she taps her toe glaring at the pair. "The princess is here and everyone is waiting on you."

"Coming." Lando mumbles, desperately trying to tamp down the nerves that are making his stomach do somersaults. This is like a teenage wet dream come true.

Just outside the garage is a group of people clustered around several McLaren sports cars waiting to get started. Lando can see Zak chatting with you from 50 meters away and he loses all ability to think straight when he sees you in person for the first time. You're dressed in dark wash jeans that hug your curves and, much to Lando's surprise, a papaya colored knit jumper. With your hair pulled back in a high ponytail, your delicate features on full display. He couldn't help thinking how much better you looked in real life compared to the glossy magazine photos he used to keep tacked up to his bedroom wall.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Lando, Oscar, and Sophie approaching before Zak does but you don't allow the group to distract you from your conversation with McLaren's CEO. That kind of behavior would send your mother into a tailspin. She hadn't sent you off to boarding school at the age of 12 for nothing after all. But you can't help how your stomach twists when you lock eyes with the boy with the curly hair. A nervous ghost of a smile plays at the corner of his full lips, sending goosebumps exploding over your skin.

"Oh, there they are!" Zak finally notices the drivers and Sophie and moves to introduce everyone. Behind you, Noelle hovers, lying in wait to correct anyone who might break royal protocol when it comes to interacting with you. You desperately wish she would've let you come alone.

Introductions are made and you try your hardest to ignore the way your skin sparks when you shake hands with Lando. Zak explains how the afternoon is going to go and that Lando is going to take you around the track on a hot lap while Oscar and a few other reserve McLaren drivers take the kids out behind.

"Nervous, your highness?" Lando asks as he checks the chin strap on your crash helmet.

The way your stomach dips when he smiles at you has nothing to do with nerves.

"You're about to whip me around this race track at speeds that could kill me, I think you can call me by my first name, Lando." You tease, deflecting the real reason your palms are sweating.

Lando blushes, eyes falling to the ground. "I guess that's true. Just didn't want your lady in waiting to tackle me for committing some protocol crime, I guess."

The laugh that escapes you would send your mother into a complete fit it's so sudden and loud. "She does look like she's lying in wait, doesn't she?" Your eyes dart above Lando's shoulder where Noelle stands, eyes trained on you as if she's expecting someone to attack at any moment.

"She's just a little...protective." You say, voice going soft. "Last year we had a little incident where I was being stalked for several months. The guy thought we were engaged and he somehow managed to get around my protection officers and into my building at 3 in the morning. They caught him outside my door with duct tape, rope and a knife in his bag."

Your eyes go wide with horror as you realize what you've just said. No one in the public knew about that, your parents had insisted on keeping the investigation quiet. The man had been sent to a psychiatric facility with the blessing of his family and charges hadn't been filed in order to protect your privacy. You had no idea why you had just spilled one of your most closely kept secrets to a veritable stranger.

"Well then I'm glad she's here to watch over you." Lando's voice is quiet, like he knows you don't want others overhearing this conversation. "I'd hate to think of anything happening to such a pretty girl."

For several moments, the busy pitlane falls away a bit as Lando's hands remain on the straps of your helmet and he looks at you like he's known you for your entire life. You're used to people staring at you and being under the microscope but the way Lando looks at you makes you want to squirm in the most delicious way possible.

"Okay, you two!" Zak booms, shocking you out of the little bubble that had grown around you and Lando those few moments. "Lets get you out on the track. Lando, please remember this is a member of the royal family, I'd rather not have to leave the country if you injure her."

"What kind of knight in shining armor would I be if I hurt the princess in my charge?" Lando quips, aiming a wink your way before rounding the hood of the low slung papaya colored McLaren.

You can't help the way you snort in response to his flirting, it's so ridiculous but you also can't ignore the way your stomach twists in delight at the way Lando's tongue works around the word princess while he looks at you.

You had to be careful though. Despite Lando being famous and well off in his own right, you were even a step above that and life had taught you that even the most well connected and rich men saw you as the ultimate prize. Who wouldn't want to marry the only daughter to the King of England, even if they had billions. You can't buy a real royal pedigree. Not like the one you had, dating back generations on both sides of your family.

No, you couldn't allow yourself the luxury of lowered walls but you could allow yourself to indulge in a little innocent flirting, because that's all it would ever or could ever be with Lando Norris.

"Zak, can I file a workplace injury claim if I've gone deaf this afternoon from her screeching?" Lando complained as he held out a hand to help you out of the McLaren 45 minutes later.

"I have no idea what you're talking about! Princesses don't screech." You sniff, smile tugging at the corner of your mouth as you yank your hand out of his grasp the moment you're steady on your feet.

Lando snorts now, rolling his eyes, enjoying the color that flushes in high on your cheekbones. He was the one to make you blush like that and it sends a zing of arousal straight to his cock. While you had been in the car with Lando, before he had scared the daylights out of you, he'd been able to overcome the initial nerves of meeting his boyhood crush and had settled into a flirty conversation. The way you two bantered back and forth so naturally was new to Lando and kind of unnerving to him, but in a good way.

"I'm inclined to believe if the princess was driven to 'screech' that it was all your fault, Lando." Zak jokes with a shrug before turning to you. "Thank you so much for coming out this afternoon and filling in for your brother. We got some great shots of you guys on the track and before with everyone together."

You nod, smiling at the group that's now gathered. Beside you, Lando has wiggled his way between Noelle and yourself so he's settled in at your side. "Wonderful. I'm sure they'll be the perfect content you guys all need. Is there anything else you need from me today? Did all the kids get laps on the track and the merch bags?"

Sophie nods, "Yes ma'am, no one left empty handed."

You sigh internally knowing that the day is almost over. You can taste the freedom of the back seat of the Range Rover where you can finally let your mask down for a few extra moments. You loved days like this, busy and filled with lost of interaction with the public but it was also exhausting beyond measure. You knew you'd sleep well tonight, having attended events nearly every night for the past 9 days.

"Good, thank you." Your eyes find the McLaren CEO who stands across from you. "Zak, I assume we'll see you at the awards gala Saturday night?"

Zak nods, "Yes, Oscar and I will be there."

You can't help the bit of disappointment that blooms in your chest when he doesn't say Lando's name. You hate it and ignore it the best you can because it simply isn't acceptable. So instead you lean on your years of training and upbringing to hide your true feelings. "Lovely, I can't wait to see you both again."

As Lando watches your car pull away, he can't help but feel a little disappointed that your time together is up.

"What awards gala was she talking about? Why wasn't I invited? Lando practically whines, turning to Zak once the Range Rover is out of sight.

Zak chuckles "You were invited Norris and you turned it down because, and I quote, 'you don't do boring awards dinners that aren't written into your contract'."

Lando kicks at a rock with his sneaker, feeling a bit foolish. "Well, I guess I'm just going to have to make an exception for this one then."

Zak narrows his eyes, not liking where he thinks Lando's head is going. "Listen Norris, I know your personal life is none of my business."

"And you'd be right in that assesment, Zak." Lando responds cooly.

Zak holds his hand up, "But I'd be remiss if I didn't remind you that whatever I think is going on in your head about the woman that just left the track is probably a bad idea. A princess like her is not able to have a casual relationship like the ones your used to. Just..." Zak pauses, trying to put his advice in the best words possible. "Just be careful, okay?"

"Message recieved loud and clear, Zak." Lando mutters before turning and walking back towards the garages.

[talaok]

Like a Virgin

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

summary: It's been a really long time since Joel has felt the feel of anything else besides his own fist, and once you remind him how good the real thing is... let's just say it's hard for him to live up to his full potential.

warnings: smut| unprotected p in v sex, premature ejaculation, very touch-starved Joel, and allusion to oral sex (f receiving)

a/n: I don't know what to say lmao this is a thing for me ok, don't judge (and also you can't tell me this isn't accurate, like this man hasn't gotten laid since the moon landing probably, and you expect him to last? no way babe). Also I'm sorry about the title it's funny to me lol

Now this wasn't like him.

He hadn't done this in a long time.

The last time he had sex with a woman he'd just met (or any woman to be completely honest) he was 25 years younger and the world hadn't gone to shit yet... so yeah, a long time indeed.

But you were so fucking beautiful, such a pretty face with such pretty eyes, and god but that mouth of yours-

And plus you were new to Jackson, you didn't know yet about all the scary stories folks liked to tell about him, and you were kind and funny, and... did he mention hot already?

Just one night of letting loose, that's what he'd told himself, and then he was gonna go back to his old closed-off self, but for now... for now, he was too busy throwing you on his bed to think about anything else.

You were getting rid of your clothes and he followed your lead more than willingly, almost ripping the buttons off his flannel in the rush.

He bent down to kiss your neck as his hands hurried to your tits.

God, he'd forgotten how good it felt to touch a woman.

And when you let out a little whimper, he swore he had ascended to another universe.

"Joel please"

Fuck him, but he wasn't inside of you yet, and he was already feeling far too close to coming.

Guess fucking his own fist for two decades really does something to a man.

"need something?"

He was acting wayy too smug for someone who was feeling like a virgin all over again.

"Please- I need you inside me, Joel"

fucking damnit- he shouldn't have asked that, his dick was now really suffering the consequences.

He didn't risk saying anything else as he got rid of his boxers, but of course, you just had to come out and say:

"oh wow, you're big" with the sexiest fucking voice he'd ever heard.

"want me to stop?"

For some reason, those words elicited a criminally hot smirk on your lips  

"Definitely not"

You were looking at him like a starving woman and he had to look down to where he was moving his tip to your entrance to get away from you and your dangerous, dangerous gaze

He pushed into you slowly and god fucking damnit but the sounds that you made... those sweet little moans and whines you let out as your warm pussy stretched around him and hugged him better than anything he'd felt in years... he had no words for it- no coherent sounds could make it out of his mouth except for a few groans coming deep from his chest.

"Good christ"

that's the only thing he managed to murmur as he bottomed out and had to take a break to try not to bust his load right there.

"fuck you feel so good" you moaned, as your hands gripped his sheets "please move" you begged, your voice breathy and pleading, and godfuck he should have really thought about it before doing this.

"Joel please-"

"I just need a moment darlin'" he explained, closing his eyes to try and remember how he used to manage to last and coming up completely empty.

He could feel your expectant eyes on him so even if he sure as hell didn't feel ready, he did as you asked and started to move.

The regret reached him extraordinarily fast as he felt your walls tightening around him and as you cried out for him like an angel sent straight from heaven.

"fuck-" you moaned, looking up at him with doe eyes that made him wonder if you really just knew what you were doing, if you actually enjoyed torturing him like this

"god you're so deep"

Yeah, you definitely knew

"and so big-" you cried

He gripped your waist to try and ground himself as he thrusted into your fucking perfect cunt.

"oh my god-yes!" you moaned, your back arching from the bed as his thrust got harsher in the hopes that that would make you talk less.

"just like that Joel- oh-" 

And Joel was tough in a lot of ways and he wasn't one to give up easily, but shit you were making it hard for him.

"Please don't stop- fuckfuckfuck" you begged, shutting your eyes close at the feeling.

And that was it, he couldn't do it anymore

"please stop talking" he breathed, his eyes resuming their tour of your eyes, mouth, and bouncing tits.

"why?" 

"nothing it's just-"

And before he could answer you had grabbed his shoulder and forced him to bend down to meet your mouth with his.

Goddamnit.

"you just feel too good Joel" 

"fuck." he groaned, not able to stop his hips from moving no matter how much he wanted to "shit"

"what is it?"

"Jesus Christ I-"

"is there something wrong?"

"n-no just- fuck I'm sorry sweetheart"

And that's all he could say as he abruptly pulled out of you, his spend covering your stomach not even a second after as he growled so loud his neighbors probably thought he was getting killed.

"shit" again, he sighed, his forehead falling to your shoulder.

"oh" you couldn't help but smile as everything came together

"I'm sorry darlin'" he breathed, leaning away and standing up as shame filled every inch of him.

"It's just- It's been a long time since I've done... this"

You sat up, your legs still dangling off the bed, as you admired his handy work on your belly.

"And you... you're just real fucking pretty" he huffed a half-laugh "I'm sorry"

You looked up at him then, meeting his mortified expression.

"No hey" you smiled, placing a hand on his torso "It's fine, I understand"

"god this is embarrassing, I feel like a sixteen-year-old all over again" he shook his head

"stop" you cooed, gently caressing his skin, as a mischievous spark lighted in your irides "It's fine, really" you promised, "and besides..." you bit your bottom lip as you slowly spread your legs "you could still make it up to me, y'know?"

He groaned again, falling to his knees between your thighs

"that I can do"

[empresskylo]

cod men headcanons in an age gap relationship?

i have such a thing for age gaps...i blame society. also, i’m only including ghost, price, and alejandro because the other men are too young imo. ik some of their ages are debatable, so in my mind, ghost is at least 30.

Ghost

♡ honestly, i don't think my guy really gives a shit if there is an age difference between you two. like his morals are all skewed, and the last thing he'd waste time worrying about would be a *legal* age gap.

♡ being younger than him would just make his nicknames for you that much more adorable. he likes to add the words 'little' and 'tiny' in front of a lot of the things he calls you. "little mouse" "little dove" "tiny girl/boy"

♡ regardless of how much experience you have (with relationships, sex, etc) he will always act like he knows more than you. he can find himself treating you like you’re so innocent and new to everything--even if you do the same line of work as him, i.e. killing people. and it can definitely annoy you.

♡ it doesn’t matter how many people you’ve been with or how many people you’ve killed; no matter what, he knows more than you. and honestly, even tho it can annoy you sometimes, him being so dominant is just super hot.

♡ “simon, i know how to do it” you whined, as he wrapped his arms around you, showing you how to properly use a sniper. you were used to so many other guns, but not snipers. “mhm,” he mocked, stepping away from you. when you shot the gun, you missed your target by quite a few feet. your cheeks warmed and you hesitated before looking back at simon. his arms were crossed over his chest as he eyed you. you could tell he had a smug smile plastered across his face under his mask. he did not need his ego inflated any more than it already was.

Price

♡ price was definitely concerned when he first realized he had feelings for you. he knew you were of age, but that didn't stop the odd feeling he got when he was around you--like he was taking advantage of you.

♡ and his way of flirting was to act like your father… he thought he was being nice, showing you how to do stuff, always having your back. but my god was he appalled when you were frustrated with him one day after he keep hounding you about something.

♡ “Ok, dad! i get it!” “what did you just call me?” You heard the anger in his tone. shit, you were getting too comfortable around your captain, you should not have teased him like that. “S-sorry, captain. I didn’t mean—“ He cut you off, clearly agitated for a different reason than you being smart with him. “is that how you view me, doll? like a father?” if you said yes, price would know he needed to back off. he could take a hint. “No… I… You just wouldn’t get off my back. I was just trying to be funny.” You felt so embarrassed as you explained yourself. Price got into your space and grabbed your chin in his hand, titling your head up to look at him. you gulped. “you wanna call me endearments? go ahead. but don’t ever call me that again.” he looked at you a moment longer before turning away. suddenly fueled with adrenaline, you called after him. “what about daddy?” Price spun around quicker than you could register before he was pushing you backward, his hand tight in your hair as he yanked your head back to look up at him again with a gasp. “fuckin’ brat,” he muttered, a sly smile crossing his lips.

♡ as much as price truly does not care about your sexual history, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on a bit knowing how much more innocent you were than him. you could have slept with a bunch of people for all he cared, but knowing you were that much younger than him, he knew he had more experience than you regardless. and something about that sparked a flame in his chest. he had a thing for wanting to show you the ropes.. but he definitely felt guilty about thinking that way. he wouldn’t have been any less attracted to you knowing you slept with a hundred other people. he knew you being “innocent” shouldn’t turn him on. but it did…

♡ he is very possessive of you. doesn’t like the idea of other men thinking they have a chance with you. but he can get a bit self-conscious whenever a younger man approaches you or checks you out. “you really wanna be with an old man like me?” he’d ask. as confident as he is, in the beginning of your relationship, being so much older than you made him second guess himself. shouldn’t you want to be with someone your own age? “jesus, price. you’re only 37. you act like you’re knocking on hell's door.” he’d start tickling you for your bratty remark, but it definitely placated some of his nerves.

♡ and since he has more experience dating wise, he’d say “i love you” pretty early on. he’s not dating you thinking it’s some fling. he’s serious about you. and he’s lived long enough to know when he’s in love. and he’s not afraid to say it.

♡ you were saying goodbye to price as he went off on a mission. he’d only be gone a few days, but you’d hate every minute of it. he kissed you, his mustache tickling your lip. “i love you,” he murmured when he pulled away. he smirked as he appraised your stunned face. and he’d turn and leave before you had a chance to process his words, knowing you wouldn’t be able to get them out of your head the whole time he was gone.

Alejandro

♡ definitely feels bad at first, like he’s taking advantage of you. he reminds you all the time to tell him if you’re uncomfortable. that you can say no. he just doesn’t want you to feel used.

♡ as he gets more confident in the way you want him, he starts to use it against you. same as ghost, he mocks you as if you’re so innocent and inexperienced. “see, this is what they call a—“ “Yes, Ale. I know. I’m the one who showed you that.” resulting in a cheeky wink from him.

♡ during training, he embarrassed you in front of the others. when you messed up a move, he made a big deal showing you how to execute it properly even though you’ve been in the army for years now and knew how to do it in your sleep. he liked to see the way you’d get flustered with all the other guys around as he teased you.

♡ he definitely exudes a dominant side and it definitely comes out around you. he wants to do everything for you. wants to carry shit that’s too heavy for you. he wants to be your ride. the first person you call when you need help. he wants to be your everything.

♡ he also acts a little more dominant in bed than he would if he was with someone his age. something about you looking up at him with your sweet little doe-eyes sparked a dominating need within him. he takes control. he leads. he tells you what to do. he barks out commands. he punishes you for being bratty. he takes control in every sense of the word. The only time you can really hold anything over him is when he’s getting close to finishing. you’ll be able to get him to say whatever you want him to, his mind lost in a haze, wanting nothing more than to find the release you’re about to give him. “Please,” he begged. you smiled as you hovered above him. you sank back down on him and continued your motions, and he quickly climaxed. his hands squeezed your hips as he groaned. “fuckin’ perfect.”

[ellecdc]

I feel like I need a part 2 to Sirius' Arch Nemesis where the kitten just gets super attatched to Sirius and he hates it, but soon gives in and gives it some attention (not telling anyone of course). I got the idea from the books where Crookshanks is just loving up against Sirius, so now I HC that cats are just drawn to him .

I was so excited when I got this prompt....all the way back on July 6th I'm sorry!!! thank you for your request AND for your patience - I thoroughly enjoyed playing with this story again <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader who thinks Sirius favours the cat [889 words]

p1 | p2

CW: one suggestive and mature joke about loving 'someone's kitten'...wink wink, but SFW otherwise.

“What’s the matter, dove?” Remus asks, not bothering to look up from his book to see you pouting across the table from him.

“S’not fair.” You whine, and Remus does look up when you cross your arms over your chest in petulance. 

“Uh oh, angel’s got her pouting face on.” James calls in way of greeting as he moves towards your table in the library, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head disregarding the way you shoo him away as he makes to do the same for Remus. “Does this mean Pads is cheating on her again?”

“I think her issue is less that Pads is cheating on her and more that the kitten is.” Remus corrects James as he takes a seat.

“He didn’t even like the kitten!” You proclaim then, swinging an arm in the direction of your traitorous boyfriend. 

“Still don’t.” Sirius quips simply, eyes never rising from the parchment in front of him that he was writing on with one hand, the other hand caressing the kitten curled up contently in his lap. 

“Please.” James laughs overtop of your disgruntled scoff. “You nearly swatted Moony with the Daily Prophet yesterday morning when  he tried to take the last piece of bacon because you were saving it for the tiny thing.”

“Well how many times do I have to say we save one piece of bacon for the cat?” Sirius complains, dropping his quill with a flourish to look at his partners incredulously. “It’s really quite simple.” 

“You’re just as whipped for that kitten as you are for our girl, Pads.” James chuckles, and though the sentiment made Remus smile, your mouth dropped open in horror.

“Oh gods.” You nearly whimper, holding a hand over your mouth as you look at Sirius in betrayal. “You love the kitten more than me.” 

Remus actually watched Sirius’ head rear back as he looked at you with a near equal amount of horror.

“Baby-”

“You do! Don’t you!?” You insist, cutting Sirius off as you make to stand. “You love the kitten more than me!”

“Of course I- baby. I don’t even like the kitten!”

“You feed him all your bacon!” You accuse him. “And you snuggle him in the library. Look! You’re even petting him right now!”

Sirius’ hand flies from the kitten as though it burned him, and the kitten - having been sound asleep up until this point - finally lifts its head to see what all the fuss is about. 

“Sweetheart,” Remus tries to placate, “a mere two weeks ago saw you scolding Sirius for smack-talking the cat when he thought we weren’t looking; isn’t this a good thing?” 

“But…” you start, looking helplessly between all three boys before your lip juts out pathetically. “I-”

“Dolly.” Sirius levels you severely, wordlessly holding the kitten - now hanging limply from Sirius’ one hand - out for Remus to take without ever looking away from you. “Come here.”

You hang your head as you circle the table to stand beside Sirius who wastes no time in pulling you down and situating you on the bench between his legs. 

“I can assure you,” Sirius murmurs into your ear as he hooks his chin over your shoulder, “there will never be a kitten I love more than the one I have right here.” 

Remus watches you jump as Sirius’ hand no doubt slips under your skirt to tease his ‘favourite kitten’, fighting the urge to laugh as you threaten to stand and storm off, only for Sirius to grab you by the hips and sit you back down. 

“Now, now, gorgeous, I was only teasing.” Sirius laughs, both of you ignorant to the fact that the kitten was now resting in James’ lap in much the same way he’d been snuggled in Sirius’ mere moments ago. 

A lap is a lap is a lap to a cat, apparently. 

“Of course I love you more than the cat, hm?” He asks you more quietly, rocking the two of you back and forth as he wraps his arms snuggly around your waist. “How could you even ask that?” 

Remus watched you sink further into Sirius as you looked over shyly at your other two boyfriends. 

“He loves you more than pranking, angel.” James starts solemnly. “Just last week we never even made it to Zonko’s because-”

“No, no, no.” Sirius interrupts quickly, tucking you further into him as though that might protect you from what James was about to say. “She doesn’t need to hear about that.”

“Hear about what?” You ask, leaning over the table to look past Remus at James in interest. 

“What’s this? Does the infamous Sirius Black not want his own girlfriend knowing what a giant sap he is.” 

“What this is is you shutting the hells up.” Sirius hissed back at him quickly, causing James to let out a bark of laughter. 

“Oh, this is so good, angel. Get this, so last week when we-”

But the words hardly left James’ mouth before Sirius was shielding your ears with his hands and singing - rather obnoxiously, seeing as you were currently sitting in the library - meaning you never got to hear the story of how last weeks trip to Hogsmeade saw James and Sirius sneaking off to Brood & Peck to learn how to win over the affections of their girlfriend’s cat.

[jaeeyaaasworld]

Car Shopping - LN4

Featuring: Lando Norris x reader

Warning(s): disrespectful car guy, Lando being basically a trophy boyfriend, Lando being a cutie (GOD THIS IS SO AWFUL. I'm sorry but I just got back to writing, pls have mercy on me)

Summary: Y/n decided to finally buy her dream car since she was a child, Lando is accompanying her but the car guy is misunderstanding.

Y/n, a pretty famous model, shouted her boyfriend name in the Monaco attic, entering the living room and sitting on the couch next to Lando, her boyfriend.

"I'm gonna buy it"

she started, earning a confused look on the Formula 1 driver.

"you're gonna buy... what?"

he asked, trying to understand what she was talking about, but suddenly his eyes widenened with realization.

"is it the YSL heels? no, princess, I was gonna get them for you"

he whined, making Y/n aw at his antics.

"you are gonna get them for me? that's really sweet, but it's not them"

she said with a big smile, making Lando furrow his eyebrows.

"is it the Minaudière make up by Dior, then?"

he tried, but getting a shook of head from Y/n.

"come on, Lando. think harder"

Y/n insisted, looking at him with big doe eyes, making him understand in an instant.

"the Porsche. you're getting the Porsche GT3 RS"

Lando said, sitting up with the biggest grin that you've ever seen. with just a nod of your head, Lando was already hugging you tightly, yelling at the top of his lungs as he pulled you on top of him on the couch.

"are you for real?"

he asked, pulling back a little to look you in the eyes.

"I checked if the dealer in Monaco had it in their site, and it says that they could get it shipped here"

you squealed as Lando yelled again and pulled you back in the hug.

"gosh, I'm so happy. are we going now? can I come with you?"

he asked, making you nod your head and get up to get ready to leave.

Time skip: at the dealer

Lando was parking his McLaren in the parking lot when you walked into the big shop and started searching for someone to help you.

the faint voice of someone almost arguing caught your attention.

"it's a girl, shut up John, you got the last one. look at that bag, her husband it's surely filthy rich- hi"

a guy came in front of you, as you recognized his voice as the guy that was arguing with the other worker earlier, noticing how his eyes were setting on the Birkin Lando had gifted you for Christmas.

"my name is Mike, how can I help a pretty girl like you?"

he asked, a sick smile on his lips that almost made you gag. you put a smile on anyway, since you were a really polite person.

"uhm... yes, hi. I read on your site that you can get the blue Porsche GT3 RS shipped here, right?"

you asked politely, making Mike's eyes widen and nod his head.

"sure, come I'll help you"

he said, starting to walk towards his computer, the sound of your heels clicking on the ground echoing on the walls.

"no husband?"

Mike asked, sitting at his desk and searching around for what he needed.

"my boyfriend is parking his car outside"

you corrected him, making him nod.

"you know what you're getting into?"

Mike asked again, making you smirk as you wanted to put a stop to his teasing and attempts to fool you.

"of course I know"

you said, hearing a faint 'damn it' come from the man behind the desk.

"alright, the car is gonna cost a bit much, but I'm sure you already know that since you know what you're getting into. I mean, it's a Porsche, there's not much I can do about it. so... the price is gonna be 320.000 euro-"

"WHAT?!"

Mike couldn't even finish his sentence that Lando's shout could be heard from the other side of the open door.

"that's a robbery-"

he started, but your raised hand stopped him as you got up from the seat in front of Mike's desk. you gave Lando your Birkin as you leaned on Mike's desk.

"Mike, that price is 60.000 euros over the actual price. I accept the fact that you didn't recognize me, but you surely recognize my boyfriend, right?"

the car dealer gulped as he nodded his head.

"now... don't you feel ashamed trying to scam a girl that's been around cars since she was a child and is now in a relationship with a Formula 1 driver? don't you think that I might really know what I'm getting myself into, huh?"

you asked the man, still leaning on the desk.

"I'm far too good for letting you still sit on that chair behind that desk"

you finished, a scoff left your lips as you took your Birkin back and walked out of the concessionary with Lando's hand on your lower back, opening the door for you.

"princess"

he called before you could reach the McLaren, making you hum and turn towards him. Lando placed both his hands on your arms in comfort.

"I know you're angry. why don't we go to that fine restaurant that you like and take a walk around the track, just the way you like?"

he asked softly, getting a sad nod in return as he pulled you close, his lips on your forehead.

"my princess"

he sighed, kissing your lips and smiling down at you.

"I'm gonna make sure we have a consultation with another dealer next time, promise"

[churipu]

WHAT REMINDS THEM OF YOU 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, megumi fushiguro, itadori yuuji

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. just pure fluff :D

note. i was going to write some hurt comfort — but then i figured that i wanted to keep myself sane for today :>

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

anything strawberry. scent, taste — anything strawberry.

gojo remembered when the first time he brought you home some honeoye strawberries after a mission since it was in season. the way your eyes just lit up at the sight of strawberries made him happy, and from then on — gojo looks at a picture of a strawberry or even smelled strawberry from god knows where.

he just thinks of you.

one time gojo saw a rabbit eating a strawberry while scrolling through his social media, and he wasted no time sending the video to you with a small message: "you <33"

or the other time gojo sees a bucket cap with strawberry motives and he just had to get it for you. the male waited in line for half an hour for that hat (and he had to "fight" a kid for it, he won in the end because the kid moved on to a duck motive hat instead).

"baby, look what i got you — strawberry scented bath bomb. it was the last one on stock, and i had to argue with a lady over it," he happily bursts through the door, boasting while raising what seemed to be a bath bomb.

gojo just knows when you change your usual brand of strawberry lip balm. it took him a peck and he asks you, "did you change your brand? this one tastes weird," he wipes his lips.

"they were out of stock, 'toru."

"why didn't you say so?" he cooed, kissing the bridge of your nose, "i'd go to the other side of the earth to get you one, y'know?"

you chuckled, "or, i could just wait for it to stock back . . ."

"nonsense!"

𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

the smiths.

he finds it amusing when you start quoting that one scene from 500 days of summer, "i love the smiths . . ." and he just unexpectedly replied with, "sorry?"

but that time — he didn't know that he was "unknowingly" going along with it. confused, he had to question you about it, and when you told him it was from a movie. megumi finally understood and thought that maybe you really liked the movie.

he was wrong. it wasn't the movie, it was the smiths. so now, every time he sees anything or hears anything about the band, he finds himself thinking about you — but he'd never actually say that. megumi often listens to their songs just so he could understand when you talked to him about it.

also, quoting the movie was now a habit for you two. you just go, "i love the smiths," out of the blue and megumi will continue it (even if he says that it's pretty corny).

megumi loves it when you listen to the smiths out loud, singing softly to the tune. the male tries really hard to get you unofficial merchandise, official merchandise for the smiths are actually so hard to find today — so he just had to go and make it custom for you.

"and when the double decker bus, crashes into us . . ." he heard you sing, both of your ears jammed with earbuds from the earphones, "to die by your side."

that, was your favorite song. and megumi made it into a custom painting of you and him as if the two of you were in that one scene in 500 days of summer. i'm not kidding.

𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈

mochi skin. the texture, the flesh. it just reminded him of your cheeks — it's so squishy and soft. every single time he buys a mochi, he makes sure to do something that he calls a squish test.

where he squishes the mochi, and then squishes your cheeks. if they don't feel the same, yuuji gets rid of the mochi and gets another one (he eats them).

"it doesn't feel the same y/n, i don't like it," he whines out softly, tossing the mochi into his mouth — he angrily takes out another bill of cash to buy another mochi.

"yuuji, why does it have to be the same again?" you asked him, hands inside your pockets.

"because . . ." good point. why?

the male prompts to ignore you and buy another one (three others) to make sure they are the same texture as your cheeks. it's something he does — if a mochi he buys doesn't feel the same way like your cheeks does.

he eats them or lets you have them.

if it does.

he also eats them or lets you have them.

it's just something he does for fun, so he could always remember you. and when you're not there with him — yuuji makes sure to buy at least five before coming over to visit you so he could do the test.

when he's not feeling like it but he misses you, he takes a video and sends it to you with a caption: "i miss you."

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[yunniverse]

My Home

౨ৎ PAIRING— jeong yunho x reader

౨ৎ GENRE— angst, fluff, established relationship, fem!reader

౨ৎ WARNINGS— little bit of angst, mostly fluff, yunho is a soft boy

౨ৎ WORD COUNT— 3.6k

౨ৎ SUMMARY— it isn’t no way home. it’s one way home, and that way is yunho.

౨ৎ A/N— i just love yunho so much :( feedback is appreciated and thanks for reading, loves!!

You walk into your apartment, kicking off your shoes and placing your purse in one of the chairs at your kitchen counter.   When you finally take a seat on your couch, sighing in relief at the feeling of finally getting to sit down after a lot of standing today at work.   Suddenly, your phone buzzes, and you frown, grabbing it from beside you to look at it.   —Excited for tonight!! It’s my turn to pick a movie ;)   “Oh shoot!” you exclaim, jumping up as soon as you read the text, throwing the phone down and hurrying to get ready for a shower. Yunho can’t come over seeing you like this, even though he’s your boyfriend and he’s told you before not to worry about your appearance around him. You still like to feel good about yourself, though, as much as you can.   After grabbing a change of clothes, you head into the bathroom to hop into the shower, hoping you’ll have enough time to finish before Yunho arrives, not to mention you still have to make dinner.   Although, you might be able to convince him takeout is a good option to tonight. You find yourself lost in thought about the best way to convince him, when you hear your front door open.   Your eyes widen as you turn the water off, rushing to dry off and change clothes. It obviously isn’t the first time Yunho has let himself in, in fact he does it quite often, but you’re usually a little more prepared.   Leaving the bathroom once you feel presentable, you walk out of your bedroom and into the living room, looking around for your boyfriend.   Suddenly, you feel someone place their hands over your eyes, laughing. “Guess who?”

You smile once you’re over the initial jumpscare, “Oh, I don’t know… Maybe my boyfriend who’s trying to give his girlfriend a heart attack?”   “You barely flinched,” Yunho laughs, shaking his head as he spins you around, engulfing you in a hug, slightly lifting you off the ground.   “Yunho!” you scold playfully, laughing once he puts you back on the ground. When you regain your balance, you look up at him, taking in his appearance today.   His soft, chocolate brown hair frames his face, and he’d chosen a white, short-sleeved sweater, a choker necklace with the tiniest pearls all around it, finished off with black jeans.   “You look like you’re going to an office or something,” you comment, quirking an eyebrow. “Not a comfy movie night.”   “Sorry,” he pouts, his brown eyes softening, looking very puppy-like. “I just came from a meeting straight here.”   “Don’t apologize,” you smile up at him. “You look really good, just not comfortable.”   “It’s the jeans, right?” Yunho comments as you move around him to enter the kitchen, on a secret mission for your takeout menus. “I really need to ask if I can start wearing sweatpants to the meetings.”   “Hm,” you hum, digging through your menu drawer.   “Isn’t that the drawer of menus?” Yunho asks, taking a seat in one of your swivel chairs at the counter, watching you.   “Yeah,” you look up at him sheepishly.   “But babyyy,” Yunho’s shoulders slump as he whines. “You said you’d teach me to cook something today.”   “I know, I know,” you step around the counter to him, wrapping your arms around his middle from behind, your chin resting against his shoulderblade as he leans against the counter on his elbows. “But we can do that next time, can’t we?”   He turns around to face you, the small pout still visible on his lips, “You said that last time.”   “I’m just really tired today,” you sigh, lowering you head for a moment before meeting Yunho’s gaze again. “We can order your favorite.”   He pauses, thinking, “Alright, I guess. But next time?”   “Thank you, thank you!” you beam up at him, throwing your arms around his shoulders in a tight, quick hug. “And yes, of course.”   “I’ll hold you to it for real this time,” Yunho warns, making you nod quickly, overjoyed that he agreed so quickly.

When you try to remove yourself from his grip, he stops you, giving you another small pout. “No kisses?”   “Huh?” you question, slightly taken aback by his boldness.   “I’ve waited all day for kisses and cuddles, and I haven’t gotten any yet,” Yunho responds, giving you his puppy eyes that always make you fold.   “Hm,” you pretend to think, but ultimately smile, leaning in closer to give him a soft, quick kiss, which tastes a little different this time, but a good different. “Are you wearing the peach chapstick I gave you?”   “Yeah,” he breathes, looking a little shy. “I like it.”   “So do I,” you grin cheekily, making him roll his eyes playfully before tickling your sides a little, making you squeal, giggling.   “What do you wanna order?” Yunho asks once you’ve calmed down.   “I said we’d order your favorite,” you raise an eyebrow at him. “So we’re ordering your favorite.”   “We don’t actually have to, love,” he responds. “You’ve had a long day, and I’d like to make you happy.”   “You’re too sweet sometimes, Yuyu,” you feel a swell of happiness in your chest at his care for you. “But I honestly just want to eat whatever you want.”   “Honest?” Yunho asks, making sure.   “Honest,” you nod, sticking your pinky out, something you both do to prove to each other that you’re telling the complete truth.   He grins, linking his pinky with yours before lifting your joined pinkies to his lips, pressing a kiss to your finger with a wink that makes you swoon.   “I’ll order, then,” he grabs his phone, getting ready to call.   As he orders the food, you walk over to the living room, pulling out the plush, light blue blanket you usually use for movie nights.   Yunho walks over to you once he finishes the call, laughing as he engulfs you in a hug from behind. “Yuyu!” you complain as he rests some of his weight against you. “Why are you being so cuddly today?”   “You say that like I don’t do this every time we’re together,” Yunho scoffs, squeezing you once more before he releases you, plopping down onto the couch.   “I just felt like mentioning it today,” you shrug, smirking as you plop down onto his lap with no warning.   “Oof!” he grunts at the impact, shooting you a playful glare as he digs his fingers into your sides, tickling you until you give in, moving away from him to lay on the couch.   “Yunhooo,” you whine after a few moments of him paying attention to the game show on the TV. He glances over at you to see your pout as you make grabby hands toward him.   “What’s wrong, baby?” he asks, tilting his head to the side in question, resembling a puppy yet again.

“I want cuddles,” you respond with pleading eyes.   “The food will be here soon,” Yunho counters, and you know he has a point, but he looks so fluffy with his fluffy brown hair and soft gaze. You can’t help wanting to have him to yourself for cuddles.   “After we eat we can cuddle,” Yunho tells you, reaching for his phone to check his notifications. With a disappointed sigh, you look up at the ceiling, letting your arms drop onto your stomach.   After a few minutes of silence, you look back over at him, perching yourself up on your elbows. “Your hair looks so soft.”   He looks up from his phone to meet your gaze with a shy smile, “Thank you.”   “I love your natural color hair,” you continue. “I’m glad it isn’t dyed right now.”   “Yeah, I’m happy it isn’t dyed, too,” Yunho nods, agreeing.   “I wanna touch it,” you immediately resort to puppy eyes, even though you already know he told you no to cuddles right now.   “I know,” he responds cheekily, sticking his tongue out at you.   “Rude,” you gasp. “Especially coming from someone who’s gonna pick Spiderman again tonight.”   “Spiderman movies are good,” Yunho protests.   “You look like Peter Parker with your natural hair,” you point out, making him scoff.   “I’m not that good looking,” he responds, shaking his head.   You toss a throw pillow at him, “Liar!”   He laughs, tossing it back at you just as someone knocks on the door. Yunho jumps up to go get the food as you sit up, stretching.   “It’s here!” he exclaims once he pays the delivery person. “Ready to eat?”   After about an hour, you and Yunho finally make your way back to the couch, where you get settled to watch the movie.   You’re about fifteen minutes into the action when Yunho shifts, his arm moving to rest around your shoulders, coaxing you to rest yours against his chest. His other hand finds yours under the blanket, interlacing your fingers with his.   You pull his hand into your lap, glancing up at him with a small, sleepy grin, “I love you.”   “I love you too, sunshine,” Yunho responds, pressing a sweet kiss to the side of your head.   “I needed this,” you admit after a few moments, biting your lip as you absentmindedly play with Yunho’s fingers under the blanket.   “You did?” he asks, looking down at you with curiosity.   “Yeah,” you breathe. “I had a long day at work.”

“What happened?” Yunho asks, noticing your sudden shift in mood.   “I just…” you trail off, your chin quivering slightly. “Everyone kept telling me I was doing everything wrong, and I tried to make them happy, but it’s never enough. Everyone always has better ideas than me and I feel useless.”   “Baby,” Yunho frowns, sitting up more to turn you to look at him. “You’re anything but useless. And you can’t please everyone. You should know that.”   “I know… I’m sorry,” you suck in a wobbly breath. “I didn’t mean to start crying and ruin our night.”   “You aren’t ruining anything,” Yunho responds softly. “I want you to tell me when things are going wrong. It’s my job to be here for you, and I always will be. Alright?”   You simply nod, shifting to wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his neck. He coos at you, one hand rubbing your back soothingly while the other cradles your head against him. “You’re amazing, y/n,” Yunho tells you softly. “Don’t let anyone get you down. Promise?”   You nod against him, too overwhelmed to say anything at the moment.   When you’ve calmed down enough, you let a small smile take over your features, “You smell nice.”   “Yeah?” he whispers, laughing slightly.   “I think my new favorite scent on you is peach,” you pull away from his neck to look at him.   “I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiles, his hands moving to cup your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks soothingly. “Feeling better?”   “Yeah,” you nuzzle into his hands, your eyelids fluttering closed at his soft touch. When you open your eyes again, Yunho is gazing at you lovingly, a soft smile on his face. “What is it?” you whisper, feeling a little shy under his intense gaze.   “I was just thinking about how much I love you,” Yunho responds, making your face heat up.   “I love you too, Yuyu,” you tell him when you control the butterflies in your stomach somewhat. Yunho smiles, leaning forward to press his lips to yours in a soft kiss, which you melt right into. He has that effect on you.   “I missed you this past week,” you tell him once you’re both settled back in, eyes on the TV screen again.   “So did I,” Yunho responds softly, his thumb brushing against your knee under the blanket, making you shiver slightly before you snuggle further into his cozy sweater, letting your gaze fix back on the TV.   It’s about fifteen minutes later when you start to grow a little bored of watching the movie, taking a quick glance up at Yunho, who still seems fully invested, his eyebrows furrowed slightly in concentration.   Sneakily, you carefully slip your cold fingers beneath his sweater, giggling when he jumps, his eyes darting to you in shock.   “Y/nnnn,” he whines, wriggling a little at the chill your hands have caused. “I was warm!”   “Exactly,” you grin cheekily. “And my hands are cold.”

Yunho shakes his head at you, trying to relax again and ignore your cold fingers. You watch him look back at the TV, and you sigh happily, sliding your hands up a little further against his toned stomach.   Yunho tenses for a moment and you hold back a giggle, knowing he’s struggling to stay put and not shove you off.   Feeling even more mischievous, you wiggle your fingers slightly, laughing when he immediately jolts with a small yelp.   “Sorry,” you mumble, though the smirk on your face that Yunho can’t see proves you’re not really sorry.   “You know I’m ticklish,” Yunho huffs, his muscles still tensed underneath your hands.   “I know, I know,” you respond, flattening your hands again, showing him you won’t tickle him again. “It won’t happen again, baby.”   “It better not,” Yunho warns, but slowly starts to relax again.   With a content sigh, you let your eyelids flutter closed, resting your cheek against Yunho’s chest, where you can hear his steady heartbeat. Soon, you find yourself growing sleepy, and you only feel more sleepy when Yunho’s fingers move to your head, softly massaging your scalp.   You find yourself being pulled deeper into the soft lull of sleep as Yunho’s heartbeat thumps rhythmically beneath you.   “Sweetheart,” you hear Yunho’s gentle, deep voice coaxing you awake.   “Hm,” you hum, snuggling further into him with a small sigh.   “It’s getting late,” he responds, much to your dismay.   “I don’t want you to leave,” you shift, your chin resting against his chest now, looking up at him with sad doe eyes.   “I don’t want to leave either,” Yunho replies, his fingers in your hair slipping down to cup the side of your head in his palm. You lean into his touch, nuzzling his hand. “But I have to, unfortunately.”   You huff, knowing you’re being difficult, but you’re sad you haven’t gotten to hang out with him much lately, and then you fell asleep for who knows how long.   “But I was asleep, and you didn’t wake me!” you protest, pouting up at him.   “You were so cute, though,” Yunho responds, sticking his lower lip out at you in a small pout. “I couldn’t wake you up.”   “You could’ve,” you mumble, slipping your hands out from under Yunho’s sweater, to which he sighs in content at the loss of contact with your freezing cold hands, although they had gotten a little warmer.   “How long was I asleep anyway?” you ask, yawning, as you move your hands to play with the little pearls on Yunho’s necklace.   “About an hour and a half,” he replies, bracing for your exclamation of shock.   “Yuyu!” you whine, tugging on his necklace a little. “We could have spent more time together if you’d woken me up!”   “You seemed like you needed the rest,” he responds softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek. You sigh, knowing you can’t be mad at him when he’s being this sweet.   “And I know how hard you’ve been working, so I figured I’d let you sleep for at least a little bit,” he continues quietly, the softness in his gaze almost too much to handle.   “Yunho,” you sigh, shaking your head slightly.   “What?” he asks, worry suddenly flooding his features.

“You’re too sweet sometimes, you know that?” you finish, a cheeky smile growing on your face.   “You can’t do that!” Yunho pouts. “You scared me!”   “Aw, I’m sorry,” you giggle slightly. “It was the perfect opportunity.”   “To make me think you were breaking up with me?” Yunho asks, his gaze sad, with a small frown.   “What?” you exclaim, incredulous. “I’d never break up with you, Yunho. You know that.”   “Okayy,” he responds, the sad look still in his eyes.   With a playful eye roll, you lean forward, your lips meeting his in what was supposed to be a chaste kiss. Yunho has other plans, however, and moves his hand to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss as you melt into him for the thousandth time this evening.   “I should go,” he mumbles against your lips as you sigh, disappointed.   “I know,” you pout, laying your head down once again, trying to delay the inevitable.   “I can’t get up unless you let me,” Yunho chuckles down at you, watching you with a fond gaze.   “So, if I don’t, you’ll stay forever?” you ask, looking up at him suddenly.   “Do you want me to?” he asks softly, and you blink up at him, your gaze flickering between his eyes, searching for his meaning.   “Of course,” you respond quietly. “You know I’d love nothing more.”   “So, if I asked you to spend forever with me, you’d say yes?” Yunho asks, his voice soft and full of love.   “Are you?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows a little.   “Am I what?” he responds, a small laugh escaping him.   “Are you asking me to spend forever with you?” you repeat, though you’re pretty certain he already knew what you were asking.   “If I was?” Yunho responds, voice almost a whisper.   “I’d say yes in a heartbeat,” you reply with no hesitation.

“Well,” Yunho laughs a little, shifting to sit up, forcing you to as well. “That’s good news.” You’re beyond confused now as he moves to stand, and your heart drops when you realize he must be getting ready to leave for the night.   “Yeah, it’s great news. What was the poin-“ you start, but cut yourself off when you see Yunho pulling something out of his pocket. “Yunho?” you question, heartbeat speeding up as he moves to one knee, holding a velvet box in his hands.   “Y/n,” Yunho starts, looking up at you, his brown eyes sparkling in the dim lighting. “I’ve never been happier with anyone then I am with you. It’s torture having to be away from you for any amount of time, especially when I’m on tour for weeks on end. I mean it with my whole heart when I say you’re the only one I’ll ever want. So, even though I know this isn’t the ideal place to ask this, and this isn’t exactly how I wanted to ask you… I can’t wait any longer. Will you spend forever with me and be my wife?” He opens the velvet box in his hand, revealing a beautiful diamond ring.   “Yunho,” you breathe, desperately trying to hold back the tears threatening to fall. “Yes, yes, yes!” you laugh, smiling as you throw your arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly.   He stands slowly, still holding you, as you loosen your grip, letting him slip the ring on your finger. It fits perfectly. Holding it up in the light, you admire the way it sparkles, matching the glint in Yunho’s eyes as he watches you.   “I love you,” he whispers as he reaches over to gently brush the stubborn tears off your cheeks.   “I love you too, Yunho,” you reply, grinning, as you wrap your arms around his neck again. “So much.” He returns your smile before placing a tender kiss against your lips, one you immediately return.   “How long have you had this?” you ask, gesturing toward the ring as you pull back.   “A few weeks,” he responds, laughing slightly. “I was waiting for the perfect time, but I couldn’t hold it in any longer.”   “I’m glad you didn’t,” you reply, still smiling, realizing you haven’t been able to stop smiling since Yunho proposed.   “Again, I’m sorry it’s in your living room with the credits to Spiderman playing in the background,” Yunho pouts, glancing at the TV.   You giggle, “Somehow, I think it’s perfect.”   “Are you sure?” he asks, suddenly looking worried.   “Yunho,” you cup his face in your hands. “The only thing I care about is getting to marry you. The time or place you asked me isn’t important at all.”   “Really?” he asks, sighing in relief.   “Obviously,” you respond. “Sometimes you’re such a dork, you know that?”   “Hey, you just called your fiancé a dork,” Yunho quirks an eyebrow, and you throw your head back, laughing.   “I’m sorry, fiancé,” you reply with a wink, watching as he playfully rolls his eyes at you.   “Seonghwa is gonna kill me when he realizes I asked you in such an unromantic setting,” Yunho sighs, shaking his head.   “We both know Hwa is a little too much of a romantic sometimes,” you laugh. “Besides, what could be more romantic than Spiderman?”   “Exactly!” Yunho lights up and you giggle at his silliness.   “You know, everyday I realize more and more why your Aniteez is a puppy,” you speak up, mostly to yourself, as you watch Yunho excitedly text the Ateez group chat.

When he sends the text, he throws his phone down, moving to scoop you up in his arms, grinning when you let out a small yelp from the unexpected action.   “Wanna watch one more movie before I leave?” he asks, and this time it’s your turn to light up even more than you already were.   “When would I ever say no to that?” you ask, letting him pull you over to the couch with him.   “The next Spiderman movie?” Yunho suggests, looking up at you from his position already seated on the couch as you stand in front of him.   “Why not?” you respond, laughing, as Yunho tugs you down with him, cheering at your willingness.   “We should have a Spiderman themed wedding,” Yunho wonders aloud as the movie starts playing.   “Absolutely not,” you respond, pinching his sides a little in warning.   He laughs, grabbing your hands to stop you, “Alright, alright.”   A few minutes pass in silence, but you should have known it wouldn’t last long with the excited man beside you.   “At least the cake?”   “Yunho!”

[luveline]

Hi Jade! I’ve been on my criminal minds rerun and it made me come up with this Spencer request if you’re taking them right now! Something along the lines of the reader and Spencer being together and she becomes pregnant but he pieces it together before she does!

tysm for requesting! hope this is ok♡ 1k

cw fem!reader has a positive attitude towards her pregnancy. vaguely adult theme

"I really don't think I can go," you say, flopping down on the bed. 

Spencer laughs and shakes out the shirt in his hands, hoping the creases from the dryer will iron themselves before dinner tonight. "You always say that."

"I really mean it this time. I miss Hotch, I do, and I'm glad he's out of WITSEC, but thinking about the restaurant is making me queasy." 

"Really? I looked it up, it's a nice place. They have their Grade A, it should be spotless in there. I'm pretty sure they almost got a Michelin star." 

You groan, turning onto your side. "I looked too. The entire menu is seafood," you whine. 

"What's wrong with that?" Spencer asks, giving you a quizzical look. 

"The smell." You rub your nose against his pillow and sigh. "I don't feel good. Didn't rough me up in my sleep, did you?" 

"I would never do that," he says, putting the last of the laundry aside to sit by your hip. His hand rests naturally against the slight curve of your side, fingertips pushing the hem of your shirt up enough to steal a glance at your back. 

He wouldn't say this aloud and it doesn't matter, but you've gained a little weight recently. Actually, it does matter in that he thinks it's adorable, but he knows that telling your partner they've gained weight is a faux pas. He likes it, anyhow. It's happy weight. 

Things are so serious now but they don't feel serious. There's no solemness in your relationship, just comfort. He's putting on weight in tandem. 

"You really don't want to go?" Spencer asks. The earlier he lets Hotch know the better. 

You wrap an arm around your stomach. "Sorry, Spence. I'm so sorry, I've felt sick all day and I think it'll just be a repeat of yesterday morning." You puked before breakfast, the smell of eggs too much to bear.

Spencer feels it click into place then and there. The weight, the puking, your changing taste. Your sore chest and lower back, your sensitivity. 

He pushes you gently, a hand on your hip to encourage you down. Careful, he lays down next to you, propping his head on the pillow as he brings hand up to hold you. He can't know for sure… but if you're pregnant as he suspects, it fits. And more than that, it's insane. He doesn't know how to handle this besides wrapping you up in his arms. He'll keep you forever, if he can. 

"Don't be sorry," he says, his voice faraway. You relax completely in his arms, sliding your leg over his to lock him in. "Does your back still hurt?" 

"My chest, Spence," you lament, "it feels like I'm winded. I think I'm coming down with something. Maybe you shouldn't be near me." 

"In that case, I'm staying right here." 

You laugh softly, the warmth of it a circle on his shoulder. "I can call Hotch myself and say sorry. I'll feel better in a few days, and we'll reschedule, and I'll pay even if he tries to." 

Spencer draws a line up your back. Now or never. 

He steels his nerves, the beginning of a hypothesis hesitating on his tongue. Your symptoms in addition to your irregular period and your regular sex lives points toward pregnancy. How does he say that? How should he say it? Should he even bring it up? Perhaps he should wait until you discover it yourself. And you aren't definitely pregnant, it's just a possibility. Maybe you're simply sick—

"Hey, earth to handsome," you whisper, cupping his cheek in your soft palm. You smile as he snaps out of his thoughts. "Hey. I lost you for a few seconds, where'd you go?" 

"Nowhere. I'm here." 

Your smile gets impossibly fond. It's not dissimilar to how you usually look at him. "Are you okay?" 

"Fine. I love you." 

"I love you," you say. 

There's something about you now, this gaussian blur to you. Sunlight seeps in lazily through the blinds thick as honey, a golden kiss to your skin where you lay face to face with him, and your I love you makes him want to cry. This is all ridiculous and amazing and he doesn't know what to do, doesn't know how to make his mouth move into the right words. 

"What is it?" you ask. You know him better than anyone. 

"I think you're pregnant." Spencer winces, though he can't beat his smile into submission. "I mean. You could be pregnant." 

"Why do you think that?" you ask, visibly startled. 

"Your sensitivity to strong smells, your soreness, your late period, to name the more obvious. That's not factoring in your worsening low iron lately, and your headaches." You make a strange sound he doesn't like. "What?" he asks worriedly.  

"I'm late," you say into yourself, looking past him as you puzzle it over. 

"It's a good thing, if you are. I mean, it's an amazing thing if you want it to be. I'm saying everything wrong. It's only amazing if you want it to be, I want it to be. But I'm on your side no matter what." He grimaces into his hands, rubbing his face with both palms. 

You sit as he panics. He clicks his neck looking up, racing to follow you, alarmed as you shimmy down the bed toward the ensuite bathroom. 

"What are you–" 

"I'm gonna take a test." 

"Wait a second." Spencer catches your hands before you can get too far, pulling you back to the end of the bed to sit down. "Wait. Is it– is it bad? If you are?" 

You look down at your stomach briefly. Anyone else might miss it, but Spencer can't not follow your behaviour, and the way you're acting now makes him think he got it wrong. That you won't be happy. 

You grab Spencer's hand. "You know, it's not funny. All our friends are gonna ask how I found out, and I'm gonna have to admit that you noticed it first." Your eyes track up his face almost shyly, and soon your smile is as blistering as his. 

Spencer bends under your weight as you jump up, throwing your arms behind his neck, your lips smashed to his ear. "I love you," you whisper urgently, "so much. This is good, right? This is really good." 

"Are you kidding?" he asks incredulously. 

Spencer takes your face into two hands and kisses you as hard as he ever has. He realises a second in that he'd much rather be squeezing you, caging you into the circle of his arms unrepentant. 

"We have a really good excuse to miss dinner," Spencer says.

He sounds close to tears. You're worse, laughing wetly as you pull him into the bathroom to take your test. 

[baby-tini]

dazai who goes down on you after you tell him that you’ve never received oral or just sex in general for a matter of fact <3 he’s quick to tie your hands behind your back and spread your legs to shove your cunt in his face.. he promises he’ll make you feel good and to just trust him, he’ll overstimulate you and make you cum so hard your vision clocks out for a bit. he’s already cummed untouched by this and his cock is aching to be inside you but he can’t get enough of your taste or the sounds you make. he loves the way you’re sobbing in pleasure and falling apart so easily, especially cause you’re a virgin and you cum quickly !! you’re so overwhelmed by anything he does and he adores it, he could rub and suck at your sensitive clit and you’d be on the edge of an orgasm.. or he could slap your pussy only to moan and sink his tongue into your hole. you think he’s being soo mean by not giving you a chance to recover but when he looks at you with those big brown eyes and whines about how he just wants you to feel good, could you really deny him??

This!!! It's so on par with him too, he lovess eating you out, it's his favorite past time. He's said it before and he'll say it again, he wants too die between your legs, he wants the last thing he tastes too be your cunt. Especially if your a virgin, I do think Dazai has a sweet spot for virgins because their so inexperienced and he finds sick sadistic joy in bringing them to tears from heavy overstimulation. He's sick like that, especially if you came too him, with the want of him taking your virginity because you trust him and you want your first time too be good. Because all he has too do is rub your little clit and your cumming all over his hand and your crying now because it was an accident 'samu and you're sorry and he's just has the most feral grin as he brushes your apologies away, because he likes it, he likes that you're letting go for him, that he can have you cumming so much, so quickly from just a few strokes of his thumb, he's so honored little thing. Despite it being your first time though, he's still gonna be mean, cause that's just how Dazai is. He's fucking mean. So yeah, he'll give your clit a couple garsh slaps, and he'll push down on the lower part of your stomach as his fingers push in and out of you so that you cum quick, knowing he's the one that told you not too cum yet and that if you did, that would be the only time you came that night, and when your pushing at his head because you genuinely can't take it anymore, he looks up at you with those big brown eyes, they're so soft as he asks if you're really gonna deny him the closest thing too paradise that a man like him can obtain.