#ur getting embarrassed that ur getting called out but maybe OH just maybe ur the problem??

[badnewswhatsleft]

Sorry to be stupid but which band did Joe almost get "sold" to?? (I was thinking about it for so long and couldn't figure it out)

omg LOL no anon you're not stupid i will freely admit that 1. it was not a very good joke on my part and 2. i was coming at it from a weird angle anyway😭 i was mostly thinking convolutedly ab like. joe in relation to 2010 the damned things :')

[yellowheartz]

Err, no offense. But I absolutely can not stand useless people in a classroom. No, no, don't get me wrong.

It's fine if you don't know what to do, as long as ur trying to understand and actually trying to do something.

But if ur the typa asshole to be smug and defend yourself for being none other than a piece of trash in a room, then maybe. Oh, idk. Keep your head down and be quiet?

[mygnolia]

YOU MAKE ME GO CRAZY OVER YOU !!

୨୧ -› hey, that boy over there..isn't he the most popular student athlete on campus? how did you two meet, anyway?

pair -› jock/athlete! enhypen x fem! reader | wc -› 3.5k (700 per member) | no warnings! | library

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ LEE HEESEUNG

im gonna sigh dreamily when i say he’s most DEF basketball captain. 

yes ik i wrote about this in wrong number i dont CARE i will say it with my whole chest 

DORK DORK DORK but cute dork with lethal face card. smirks after making yet another basket and winks at you

age old question how tf did yall meet!!! 

you pass by the gym and some guy on the way stops to talk to you 

like “hey i know you from somewhere”

“yes heeseung we were partners from a project two weeks ago how do you not remember..” 

he’s embarrassed asf especially because he remembers a lot of people’s names

after that he wants to be in your good graces and be friends

totally not because he remembered how you did a lot of the work for said project no complaints!!

and he doesn’t want you to rat him out to the teacher… or tell other people he’s not friendly

‘hey y/n, come to my game? i’ll do better if you’re there :)” 

you go only because you needed to complete an assignment while you were there at school anyways 

but sometimes you’d see him laughing with his friends, or how serious he is on court and woah, heeseung looks cool for once

you wait for him after because you figured he needed you for something 

“awh, you wanted for me?” “i could be doing much better things.” “awh, come on y/n let’s get some ice cream! my treat since we get to spend time together” 

he’s annoying but you let him tag around because he doesn’t bother you LOL

more under the cut!

drags you along when he practices alone so he can have some company

you like the company and the white noise too

you definitely doubt if he likes you because he is SUCH A FLIRT but no he DOES! he writes a confession on a basketball and ‘misses’ so you can catch it

you pass it back without seeing the message 

but heeseung keeps missing and it almost hits you on the head and you’re like ‘dude you SUCK hello??” he says ‘oh lol maybe it’s the ball” byee why was he smooth with it!!!!

you check the message and roll your eyes 

“if i make this you have to kiss me” you tell him and you’re about to shoot but he picks you up and brings you right next o the next to let you throw it in and then kisses u!!!!

not to be like oh im writing an smau on basketball captain heeseung but.. *tucks hair behind ear* 

most definitely tries to be mysterious and cool when you’re dating 

dribbles in front of you, trick shots, runs up to you when you’re alone, gives you one kiss between ever basket he makes 

teaches you how to play!!!!

ABSOLUTELY lights up when someones mentions you when you two date

“oh yeah my partner in math is ___” 

“omg ___?? the love of my life ___??” 

you lowk have to drag him away i fear 

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ PARK JONGSEONG 

baseball captain *faints* 

enhypen x mariners and him speaking in english…so you want me DECEASED 

baseball captain jay and you who attends his games because jake aka ur friend on the team knows you have nothing better to do 

“i bet you won’t make it even to five games before buying cotton candy” jake says because you have a MASSIVE sweet tooth 

you tried really hard because $15 and a burger was on the line 

and you kept coming because…well there was a cute captain who always knew how to rally his teammates and get them excited 

also great sportsmanship and was super friendly to everyone! 

definitely got mad when the umpire makes a wrong call 

sharp reaction times. EVEN SHARPER JAW. 

of course you stared! of course you were not paying attention to whatever jake was saying about his test after their game..how could you when jay was doing his lopsided smile as his friend pats him on the shoulder from ten feet away??

one time you come early because they’re practicing on the field and you see jay and jake passing to each other

jay just so effortlessly throwing the ball…oh my god

he’s just so perfect and jake cheers from the sidelines because he knows his captain pays attention to every single person who has stepped foot on the baseball field iNCLUDING YOU

you come up to jake after the fourth game, showing him you still had your $5 and your tongue wasn’t stained with any blue or pink

jay comes over, arm thrown around jake’s shoulder as he waves and smiles to you 

dark hair with a twinge of sweat as he runs a hand through it, pulling it back to place on his cap 

JAY IN A BASEBALL CAP *faints again*

he walks you out to the parking lot and asks what the $5 in your pocket is for because he keeps seeing you pull it out 

you explain your whole bet to him and he nods

next game. before it starts. he gets you cotton candy and makes sure it gets to you somehow 

you smile and you’re all giddy when you eat it because there’s a p.j. on the cap and he’s just so cute 

jake doesn’t say anything he already knows it’s happening between you two. 

jay finally writes on a baseball and tells you to catch, and it says ‘let’s date’ and you grab a sharpie and scribble ‘kiss me first’ 

OH YEAH HE WALKS OVER AND KISSES YOU. 

soon every game instead of cotton candy  it’s his baseball cap when it’s sunny, his jacket when you’re cold, baseballs with notes on them, and roses for his girlfriend aka youuuuu 

jay is such a romantic and he is not afraid to show it 

he orders custom jerseys that say jay/n on the back with the day you got together!!!!! 

BEST BOYFRIEND EVERRRRRR

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ SIM JAEYUN

rugby player jake but he has dark long hair let that settle in 

campus flirt campus playboy but in reality he doesn’t go on dates and nothing really happens past the smiles, he’s just super popular

you are also pretty well known! a little flirty but super sweet and your charm and how expressive and open you are with other people is what people like!

and he sees you cheering with your friend who he remembers is dating someone from the team

rugby has no gear so he just runs like no tomorrow 

smiling in the sun or determined stare as he talks to his team, you never know 

he yells either in frustration, victory, or defeat, literally will never be silent 

so after a game you follow your friend down to the railing and she has her little moments with her boyfriend 

and you and jake kind of awkwardly stand there for a moment 

he wipes his sweat off with a towel and smiles at you, cracking the ice 

“how long have you had to deal with that?” he points over to them 

you shrug and tell him “however long you’ve been dealing with it” he laughs 

oh wow his smile when he’s right in front of you is just so pretty 

and his little chuckle as he shakes his head and looks back up at you 

‘who do you watch on the field?’ he asks, with a little smirk because he likes you 

‘whoever catches my attention’ you tell him also smiling 

oh its a CHALLENGE. he will make sure to run on the side of the field you’re watching from, winking at you on the field, ugh just everything 

you come to a party at the end of the season to celebrate and he sees you 

“you came!!” super happy and makes sure you are next to him all the time 

“y/n you know the teammates, yeah?” you smile and congratulate them 

he leaves to get you a soda/water and jungwon leans in 

“jake LOVES to talk about you by the way” 

“yeah he always says how pretty you are in the library or in class, he likes when your friend comes because that means you come with her”

heeseung nods, “super into you, no joke” 

jake comes back trying to play it off “who’s into y/n?” 

you poke at his shoulder and smile, “you” and he’s all bashful and giggly 

loves to call himself ‘y/n’s girlfriend’ 

‘sorry, i can’t i have to buy flowers for y/n’ ‘sorry y/n needs me to help her study’ ‘sorry y/n needs a ride here’ STUCK TO YOUR HIP

ofc he doesn’t abandon his friends but he loves spending time with you :3

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon’s reputation proceeds him—cold on the court and just as reserved off of it

ugh he’s so annoying, he always has his bag in the same spot as yours and he always is at the water filling station with hos annoying 32oz bottle before you

also hogs that automatic tennis ball throwing machine like how are YOU supposed to practice tennis too 

‘hey i need that’ he furrows his eyebrows and shrugs 

‘i was here first’ ‘what are you twelve????’ sunghoon tells you ‘get here earlier next time then 

oh yeah. for the next week you ran to the courts everytime to get it before him 

one day he sees you and races you to the gates and you beat him 

sulky after as if his career is over

definitely varsity and one of the best, but he never approaches girls after his games

one time you go to a men’s game because it’s one of the most anticipated of the season 

its neck to neck, third set with 40-adv, sunghoon’s serve

he chases after that ball and sends it over, it barely hits the net and tumbles over, AND HE WINSSSS BRAHHHHH 

even if you hate him you will admit that he made the game extremely interesting 

you see his friends congratulate him and you notice that he never gets his clothes dirty 

always wears white to practice—pristine asf 

secretly he loves watching you too

even if you hate him for getting on your nerves some days and almost never doing more than bare minimum, you cannot lie and say sunghoon isn’t a huge inspiration 

just as you are to him 

sunghoon thinks your tenacity and passion for tennis is what makes you so fun to watch 

so even if he has homework, he goes to a game of yours and comes down to the court after the game 

bumps your shoulder after, ‘good game, y/n’ and you’re like ?? ‘you’re here?’ and he’s sooo nonchalant when he says ‘of course, i can’t miss a fun game can i?’ 

there’s a fun mixed doubles tournament for a whole gift basket of things and you come up to him 

‘hey let’s pair up’ and he grins 

you two play each other for practice and you’ve tied the score so many times you’ve lost count

and sunghoon’s a little annoying but oh lord he’s so attrative??? so maybe he wasn’t THAT annoying…

mixed doubles tourney rolls around and oh yeah. you two win.

you know much he likes natto and you say ‘here you take the natto’ he shakes his head ‘no you eat it all the time’

you two bicker and you say ‘fine lets just share it!’ and to your surprise..he opens the package and just mixes it all in 

you two sit and share the natto, then he tells you he thinks you’re pretty cool on court 

you raise your eyebrow cuz where is this coming from!! and he rolls his eyes 

‘nevermind maybe you’re only bright on the court’ 

‘hey what’s that supposed to mean!!!’ you take the natto and eat all of it LMFAO and then he pouts because noo his natto!!!

you kiss his cheek. it’s ok everything is ok now he is a happy boy 

“you’re my match” you write on a tennis ball pin and he keeps it on his bag like his life DEPENDS on it

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ KIM SUNOO

THE CUTEST VOLLEYBALL SETTER EVER 

i hate to be like oh you’ve had the fattest crush on him for like two months BUT ITS TRUE 

you’re on yearbook and you make an excuse to go see sunoo play!!

you two met when you were at a volleyball game and you told him to smile, but he’s one of those guys who says “wait delete that take another one!!” 

and ofc you agree, snapping a few cute photos of him

he posts to his social media, tagging you with a cute song saying ‘thanks photographer :3” 

and so you it begins, your small little crush on him..

he loves seeing you at his games, always makes sure to wave to you on the court 

hey so setter sunoo is insanely good at what he does 

so graceful when he places a NASTY setter dump on the other team, a glare shot at one of the other team’s members bad-mouthing him, but a glowing smile as he high-fives all his teammates! 

super supportive, and you loveee that about him!! he cares so much about everyone it makes your heart warm 

“here, let’s eat together,” you tell him, and you bring him some noodles you made because he said he was craving some 

he smiles at you and sits down, beginning to slurp slurp slurp and SCOREEE he loves it 

“thanks y/n, let me treat you some time :)” UGH DEAD DEAD 

KIM SUNOO KING OF FLOAT SERVES 

huge smile on his face when it lands where it needs to, he loves that feeling of satisfaction and soaks up all of your praise after his games are over 

he slips out of practice sometimes to see what you’re doing in yearbook, and he’ll take your camera to tell you to smile as he takes pics

someone in your class tells you too to look overfor a photo , so he loops an arm around your shoulders to pull you close and smile 

AND OH EM GEE UR LIKE TOTALLY GEEKING OUT OVER IT HELLO??????/ 

you ask her to print you a copy of it to save in your scrapbook, but sunoo cuts in and asks for another one 

“i like seeing you” DEAD IN A DITCH esp when he smiles at you and then runs off to practice before he gets in trouble

so competitive on the court and it makes him a little sulky when he loses 

“argh i did so bad today” he’d tell you, but in your eyes hello kim sunoo could do no wrong!! and you share your snacks while reassuring him 

he swears tho, “nooo, i had to look cool for you!” and you’re tired of hearing him say and do all of these sweet things and straight up 

“why?” “what do you mean, y/n?” “why do you want to look cool for me?” “well i liked you duh!” 

but sunoo never wanted to confess, he was too scared he wasn’t good yet at showing you all of his perfect bf traits 

WELL HE THOUGHT WRONG!! he’s been perfect from d1 so now he just sneaks in like 40 kisses before every game 

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ YANG JUNGWON

see so jungwon, he’s been a little FLIRTY as of recently. 

“you like older guys? but im a younger guy with rhythm” WHAT THE FKSCNHDJFD

whatever. anyways jungwon focuses on badminton like it’s a lifeline 

hitting birdies in his sleep would be smth he would do if he could, he loves how aggressive he can be in the sport without moving too much, lots of strategy involved 

you come to one of his games because your friend is on the other team, and you want to cheer him on

but jungwon notices you’re literally from his school?? 

isn’t it weird you’re going to a game for someone on the other team…

so he sets off a plan 

he goes to you after the game before your friend can

“hey, how come you don’t support anyone on our team” so straight to the point help 

and you tilt your head in confusion because “well i don’t know anyone from the team and you’re all scary”

scary??? jungwon makes it his personal mission to debunk that cuz no one is SCARY 

maybe sunghoon but that’s because he’s varsity 1 and the best player within 150 miles but whatever

he makes it his mission to wave to you when he sees you and when he’s sat next to you in one of your classes he’s like yay perf 

“you’re the guy from that badminton game huh?” “is that a good or bad thing” 

you shrug “whatever you want it to be” 

and he asks you to go to his next game but if he wins, you have to support the team and if he loses 

and you stare at him like “wtf do i get out of it” 

jungwon did NOT think about that 

he promises to buy you a snack after 

and it’s free food so you can’t complain 

you two talk more and he finds out you used to play badminton before you hurt your ankle and wanted to focus on school 

so he takes you to practice and gives you one of his expensive rackets

lowk falling in love everytime you laugh and chase the birdie 

jungwon pretends to hate chasing after it but he’ll still hit it back even if it’s out of bounds because he doesn’t want to waste your time picking it up

you two sit down and you tell him how fun it was to be able to play, and how much you missed it from your childhood 

your school holds a small festival where other school athletes go against your team modified lighting rounds 

paired with vendors and fun carnival stands, but the main attractions are always the variety of sports to watch

jungwon is one of the representatives from your school but so is your friend from the other school, so it’s heated when they play

you tie a ribbon around his racket (curtesy of sunghoon for helping you out) and write a note saying “if you do good ill cheer for you” 

AND HE WINS. so you keep your end of the bargain and cheer for him after the game is over, giving him a high five and a hug

he walks with you and asks about what you two are BECAUSE THIS IS A DATE this is date behavior 

“of course i like you won who wouldn’t”

let’s just say he gives u little kisses all over when you two are alone sigh so cute

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ NISHIMURA RIKI

he’s been on the soccer team ever since he was a freshman and even before, retaining his cute features and mischievous personality 

when you became assistant manager you were scared but your brother heeseung was on the team and your mom told you to look after him at school 

and riki takes after heeseung a LOT when they play and heeseung even goes as far as inviting riki over 

so riki’s super good at soccer by the time heeseung leaves, but he also has this small crush on you that heeseung’s told you about 

you just never said anything because you never had a reason to nor were you uncomfortable with it 

but junior year hits and riki comes back from winter break with pitch black hair all styled 

also…a lot taller than you. and no more baby fat 

and you paid attention to some of it because you saw him for practice, but the hair really did it 

during practice he loves to mess with you saying things like “can you fill up my water y/n pleaseeee” “no you have two feet” “ill win the next game against ____ if you get me water” “i’ll kick you off the team if you don’t win” 

he sighs and gets up, glaring down at you and you try not to let his playful stare affect you, but SOMETHING was different something was in the air

if riki doesn’t play good, it’s because his team manager aka you is NOT there 

you come back the next day to find out he was sulking and didn’t play super well because you weren’t encouraging him

“go run a lap, riki” and HE DOES JUST THAT “go practice on the field by yourself”

“how about you ask me to date you next” he grumbles 

and you HEAR him. loud and clear. 

but you’re like agh what if he doesn’t mean it what if he’s just joking 

at the next game he does super well and you congratulate the whole team 

yas team hybe eats 

you two are getting ready to go home when he finally brings it up

“you heard what i said on tuesday” and you know exactly what he means 

“yep.” “so why didn’t you say anything back” “i didn’t know if you were being serious”

he scoffs “y/n when have i ever not been serious about you”  

he opens your door even if he’s passenger princess 

makes fun of you for how much closer you need the wheel to be to drive

YAYYYY Y/NKI IS REAL

he loves to drape an arm around your shoulder walking around school 

acts as if he’s older when you two are literally the same age HELP 

reblogs/interactions are appreciated always!

have some shameless self promo for my spiderman!riki fic!

and my upcoming jake fic!

[propertyofwicked]

SMITTEN - LN

ln x reader, platonic!grid x reader SMAU

based on this request ✧ my inbox is open ✧

warnings: none, just a little swearing throughout - also she's a short one

masterlist the playlist

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

yourusername made a new post!

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 21,223 others

yourusername 10 years ago today, i competed in my final karting race in order to pursue my dream career - and i would do it all over again, especially when i still get to spend my days with these losers

tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, pierregasly

view all 5,421 comments

maxverstappen1 losers?? i think you mean losers and three time world champion, no?

⤷ yourusername they're not mutually exclusive

charles_leclerc proud of everything you've achieved mon amour

⤷ yourusername you’re just glad i left karting so that i stopped kicking your ass

⤷ charles_leclerc we raced in different categories?

⤷ yourusername the points dont lie leclerc

pierregasly i love you but did you have to chose this photo of me?

⤷ yourusername yes.

⤷ yourusername believe it or not, i have worse ones i couldve used

⤷ francisca.cgomes leak them

⤷ pierregasly bro??

⤷ yourusername cant believe youve just called your own girlfriend bro

yourusername made a new post!

liked by mclaren, oscarpiastri, and 21,223 others

yourusername thank you mclaren for having me today! trying to get the drivers to sit down and answer my questions may have shaved a few years from my life but i had fun regardless!

check out the video on youtube now!

view all 5,421 comments

mclaren thank you for babysitting! 🧡

⤷ yourusername id say anytime but the curly haired one kept asking "why" after every sentence :/

⤷ landonorris babysitting? nah, milf training comment has been deleted

⤷ landonorris ….why?

⤷ yourusername not sure what i did in a past life to deserve this

⤷ username3 yo anyone else see the deleted comment? someone pr train this man pleeeease

landonorris was lovely to see you! stop by anytime 🧡

⤷ username1 "lovely" 👀

username5 working hard or hardly working?

⤷ yourusername working flaccid.

oscarpiastri 🧡

yourusername made a new post!

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 12,358 others

yourusername taking a break from being your favourite journalist to become the ultimate stray cat whisperer

view all 2,381 comments

francisca.cgomes you look so gorgeous meu bem ❤️

⤷ yourusername i am nothing compared to you kiks ❤️

⤷ francisca.cgomes shush you

⤷ yourusername make me 😋😩

landonorris correct! you are my favourite journalist! and i am a stray cat!

⤷ yourusername be so fucking fr rn lando

⤷ username5 i refuse to believe this is real

⤷ oscarpiastri pretty sure i just heard him meow honestly

landonorris hi! im free june 24 if you want to hangout june 24 lmk im not doing anything june 24 please msg me if ur available june 24 so we could maybe hangout or do something june 24 !!

⤷ charles_leclerc lando please stop you're embarrassing youself

⤷ maxverstappen1 no charles, let him cook

⤷ charles_leclerc this is going to end badly

⤷ maxverstappen1 thats what im hoping for

⤷ yourusername you guys are being so mean

⤷ yourusername do it again 😈

username8 she's so beautiful i dont know if i wanna be her or with her

⤷ landonorris i know what im chosing

⤷ yourusername lando this is so unhinged pls move it to the dms

⤷ landonorris yes ma'am 🫡

⤷ yourusername ma'am??? im 2 years older than you not 20

yourusername made a new post!

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yourusername test drive

view all 6,581 comments

username3 test drive? THE CAR OR LANDO?

⤷ username12 that is not lando - surely???

charles_leclerc its june 24th.

⤷ pierregasly he's only gone and done it

⤷ charles_leclerc i fear i will never recover from this

⤷ yourusername french speaking men really are the most dramatic.

⤷ charles_leclerc i can be dramatic in spanish too if you need

⤷ carlossainz55 no gracias 😩

⤷ username3 this confirms it OH MY GOD

username7 what car do you drive?

⤷ yourusername my personal car is just a peugeot 208 but i rented a porsche for the week!

yourusername made a new post!

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yourusername back to work, and back to mercedes for the first time in a while! keep your eyes peeled for some race week content coming your way!

tagged: lewishamilton, georgerussell63

view all 1,372 comments

georgerussell63 right well that's just cruel y/n. please violate lewis JUST ONCE

⤷ yourusername lewis didn't have a habit of running me off the track repeatedly

⤷ georgerussell63 that was ONCE. 14 YEARS AGO.

⤷ yourusername that's a strange way of apologising

⤷ username14 sometimes i forget she used to kart with like half of the grid

⤷ username14 like girly out here interviewing her childhood friends every week

mercedesamgf1 i feel like we need context for the last image, y/n

⤷ yourusername there are some things you will never know, admin

landonorris come back to mclaren tf?

⤷ yourusername soon 🤫

username4 lewis actually took part in social content? don't give me false hope i beg of u

⤷ yourusername not only did he take part, but he served cunt whilst doing so

⤷ lewishamilton i don't think i want to know what this means

⤷ yourusername probably for the best grandpa 💖

username15 sorry is everyone just ignoring lando being desperate in the comments?

⤷ yourusername if we ignore him, he'll go away

⤷ landonorris wrong. ill get worse! hope that helps x

yourusername made a new post!

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yourusername cats out the bag

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landonorris milf.

⤷ yourusername im not a mother??

⤷ landonorris *yet.

username3 wait how short is she? 'cos lando is not that tall i SWEAR

maxverstappen1 don't you mean...cougar?

⤷ yourusername you wanna talk to me about age gaps rn?

lilymhe that should be me holding ur hand

⤷ yourusername it still can be babygirl

⤷ lilymhe say less

⤷ alex_albon no please do say more - if im losing my girlfriend id like a full explanation

⤷ yourusername my hairline is still intact?

⤷ landonorris devoured.

username15 does he not get bored of you asking him questions all the time?

⤷ yourusername not really, 'cos when i run out of work related questions i spiral into asking if he's mad at me every 20 minutes

⤷ username6 honestly so real for that

[nanaslutt]

hear me out.. gojo w a mommy kink

oh em gee nonnie………

i wasn’t sure if you wanted sub or dom gojo but i hope you like what i cooked up :p

pls enjoy<3

contains: fem reader, mommy kink, use of ‘mama’, ‘mama’s’ as well, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), coming inside, bully!gojo, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, a liiiiitle cervix fucking, squirting, stomach bulge briefly mentioned, begging, whiney!gojo

MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

it honestly started as a joke, maybe less of a joke and more of him testing the waters per say, “yes mommy” he chirped, humor and teasing laced in his tone when you asked him to take out the trash one afternoon

when you didn’t protest against the name, not giving him a usual snarky remark, he turned around to look at you, not expecting to see your blushing face, fidgeting from where you stood in the kitchen, looking embarrassed at the nickname he called you,

unbeknownst to you while you stared at your feet, a smile full of mischievousness was creeping onto gojo’s face, lightbulbs going off in his head

ohhh this is fucking perfect, he thought

he never knew how to bring up that he wanted to try this with you, it’s not like you would’ve taken him seriously anyways, he can picture how the conversation would go vividly in his mind,

but gojo was more than slightly to blame for the frequency in which you dismissed him. satoru was incapable of being serious to save his life

all thanks to his little ‘joke’ you were now currently in this predicament:

gojo’s massive palm shoving the side of your face into the mattress, tears and spit smeared on the sheets below you, other hand braced on your lower back, pushing you into the meanest arch as he fucks right into your gspot,

“you like that mommy?” he cooed, “like when i fuck your pussy like this? huh?” he teased lightly, laughing at the loud whimpers getting knocked out of your lungs each time his hips pulled his thick cock out of you only to bully his angry tip back right into your walls, rubbing you just right,

he was giving you the meanest backshots, feeling even more aroused than normal from not having to hold back this side of him anymore, “asked you a question mama’s,” he repeated, emphasizing his need for your response with a mean thrust,

“y-yeah f-feel ‘s good toru,” you moan out between his deep thrusts, “squeezin me so good mommy, fuuuuck.” he laughs when he feels your cunt start to pulse around him for the fourth time that night, “you gonna cum? you- o-oh fuuck.” words getting cut off at the intense feeling of your cunt gushing your squirt out around him,

“haaaaa, didn’t even warn me that time mama.” he grit his teeth, fucking you through your orgasm with newfound vigor, hand coming down to rub quickly back and forth against you clit, making your juices spray all over the bed underneath you,

“toruuuu, ‘m sensitive g-give me a second p-please.” you manage to stutter out, crying out when he doesn’t let up his assault on your overstimulated cunt, “nooo,” he moans pouting his lip down at you before smiling, “don’t think i wanna,” he finishes, leaning over you, moving his big hand off the side of your face and onto the bed next you you for leverage, other hand coming up to go grip your jaw and smash your lips into his,

he hums against your open mouth as you protest his malicious thrusts, fucking you like he’s trying to poke a hole through your guts. the new angle pushing his impossibly big cock ever deeper, kissing your cervix in painfully pleasurable thrusts,

“feel good mommy? huhhh?” he breathlessly whispers into your mouth, doing most of the work in kissing you as you were too fucked out to put in any effort. his tongue slipping into your mouth, sucking your lip into his and biting it between his teeth as he groans, “you feel me in ur stomach mommy?” he questions with a grin when he sees your shaky hand slide under your body to press against the bulge in your tummy,

“s fucking deep ‘toru p-please,” you begged, not really understanding yourself what you were asking for, but he just nods and hums agreements into your mouth, “m gonna cum inside you now.” he babbles against you lips, losing his sensibility bit by bit the longer he’s inside of you, butterflies flying around in his stomach when he feels your soft pussy clench around him tightly every time he uses the nickname, glad you’re getting off on it as much as he is,

“tell me you need it mommy, tell me- fuck- tell me you want me to fill this p-pretty pussy, need you to say it,” he’s gaping into your drooling mouth. your eyes having trouble staying forward in your eye sockets with how much pleasure you were getting from this,

“give it to me t-toru please, give it to me.” you somehow got out, barely coherent to someone if they were a foot away, luckily for gojo he was pressed against your face, whimpering ‘uhhuh?’’s repeatedly into your mouth, “cum inside mommy,” you slurred out, feeling his sloppy thrusts speed up,

loud echos of your wet cunt filling the room as he stills inside of you, whining and groaning out profanities hearing you call yourself by the nickname he was so insistent on, hips stilling deep inside you, cock feeling like it was inside your womb as he humps his sensitive dick against your ass,

“o-ohmygodd f-fuck meeee.” his whiney voice cries, rotating his hips in circles and simultaneously massaging your gspot while he lets the last spurts of his cum shoot deep inside you,

pushing his torso off of your back and leaning back while he pulls his still hard cock out, seed spilling down the back of your thighs as he spreads you pussy with his thumb to get a better view of it drip out, “fuck mama,” he laughed, biting his lip at the mess he made out of you, “gotta hear you call urself mommy again,” he smirks, pushing his sensitive dick back inside you, making you both gasp, “made me cum so fucking hard.” tipping his head back, breathing heavily as he steadies both his hands on your hips,

“not letting you leave till you have me shooting blanks inside this pussy,” he giggles into the air, you had no idea what you were in for.

[dancingdonatello]

I LOOOOVED UR CHURRING FIC W/ THE 2012 TURTLES!! It was sosoooo cute! If you can, do you think you could do a rise version?? 😭🙏

make sure to drink some water!!

rise tmnt x reader

“Please, Raphy?” You were lounging on his plastron and staring up at him with such wide eyes, how could he possibly refuse? He gave a sheepish glance to Mikey who was dosing on a beanbag chair not too far away.

He tried to keep it quiet, he really did, but he really couldn’t help it anyways when you were so close to him. It was super deep and when you pressed harder against him, it felt like a massage chair. A very uncomfortable one.

You happily smiled as he continued, snorting when you glanced up and spotted his skin growing darker from his embarrassment.

Leo would churr to embarrass you. He only ever did it when you two were kissing and you were always embarrassed by PDA - especially in front of his family. So when you tried to sneak in a kiss when his brothers were looking away, he’d make his churring loud and clear.

But in reality, his genuine turtle noises are always quiet and hard to hear. He can make them louder but you like the real ones. The ones that sputter out and struggle.

For some reason, you like those ones over his ‘fake’ ones. He truly does not understand you. But whatever. He’ll do whatever if it means he gets to cuddle you.

“No, I swear it works!” You whispered to Leo who simply shook his head in denial. You crept up to Donnie and stared up at him. He looked down at you and raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

You had discovered that when you try to mimic the sound a turtle makes, purring or churring or whatever they called it, Donnie couldn’t help himself and would make the sound too. His sounded way better than yours for obvious reasons but who cares!

You made a weird noise in your throat. Donnie blinked and then loudly churred before he slapped a hand over his mouth and stopped himself, embarrassed.

You grinned wickedly at him. You were so going to use this to your advantage.

It takes forever to get Mikey to churr. He’s just not a churrer, purrer, chirper, whatever. He tries to force it to make you smile but it hurts his throat. It’s almost unnatural for him. Maybe he doesn’t have the vocal chords for it or something.

He’ll only churr in his sleep. So you’ll have to pull all-nighters just to feel small vibrations that may have actually just been a snore. Oh well. He still rubs his chin and cheeks against everything you own. That’s turtle-y enough for you.

[gottencents]

Seoul City - Jennie Kim

love hangover masterlist. main masterlist

pairing. katseye!oc x jennie kim

synopsis. after getting stranded in Korea, Tatum gets rescued by her frustrated girlfriend Jennie, leading to a heated scolding

Tatum had no idea how things had gone so wrong.

One minute, she was laughing with Manon and Daniella, casually browsing through a lively Seoul street market, and the next—poof—they were gone.

Completely and utterly gone.

She had been distracted for only a second, stopping at a stall that had an impressive spread of street food. The moment she turned back around, ready to show Manon and Daniella what she had just bought—nothing. No sign of her members. No familiar voices teasing her about being too easily distracted.

Just the bustling crowd of strangers moving in all directions, completely unaware that she had just been abandoned.

Tatum groaned, tugging the strings of her hoodie tighter. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she mumbled under her breath, pulling out her phone.

She tapped out a quick message.

Tatum: yo where did y’all go???

Daniella: LMAOO UR NOT WITH US??

Manon: Tatum pls don’t tell me u got lost again 😭

Tatum: OKAY BUT YALL WALK TOO FAST WTF

Tatum rolled her eyes. Great. Just great.

She checked her surroundings, trying to see if anything looked remotely familiar. It didn’t. At all. She had no clue where she was or which direction her members had gone.

It wasn’t her fault, really. Daniella and Manon were just too fast, and the market was too crowded. Seoul was a big city, okay?

With a sigh, she switched chats, sending a message to her manager.

Tatum: u got time to pick me up?? I lost them 💀

Manager: With Yoonchae rn, gonna take a while

Tatum let her head fall back against the lamppost she had been leaning on.

“Awesome,” she muttered to herself. “Stranded in a foreign country. Alone. No backup. This is fine.”

She had two options: wander around and hope she magically ran into Manon and Daniella again, or—gulp—call someone else for help.

There weren’t a lot of people she could call without being absolutely roasted for this. But one person did come to mind.

…She was going to get scolded for this.

With a deep breath, she pulled up the contact and hit call.

It rang twice before Jennie picked up.

“Tatum?” Jennie’s voice came through, soft but with an edge of confusion. “Why are you calling me? Shouldn’t you be with your members?”

Tatum winced. “Uh… about that.”

There was a pause, then a sigh. “Oh my god. You got lost again?”

Tatum scratched her cheek, looking away as if Jennie could somehow see her embarrassment. “Maybe?”

Jennie groaned. “Tat—”

“In my defense, Daniella and Manon ditched me.”

“They didn’t ditch you, Tatum.”

“They walked off without me. That’s literally ditching.”

“Tatum.”

She bit her lip. “Okay, maybe it’s, like, half my fault, but I stopped for one second, and they vanished.”

Jennie exhaled slowly, as if trying to stay patient. “…Where are you?”

“No clue.”

“Tatum.”

“I’m sending you my location right now!” Tatum quickly tapped the screen, sending a pin. “…Sooo, my lovely, beautiful, wonderful girlfriend—who just happens to be in Seoul—could totally come save me?”

Jennie was silent for a beat before muttering, “You’re so lucky I love you.”

Tatum grinned. “So you’ll come?”

“Stay put. Don’t move.”

Tatum obeyed, staying right where she was while occasionally checking her texts. Manon and Daniella were still making fun of her, and honestly? She deserved it.

Twenty minutes later, a sleek black car pulled up to the curb.

Tatum barely had time to react before the passenger-side window rolled down, revealing one very unimpressed Jennie Kim.

Jennie was wearing a simple outfit—black top, sunglasses perched on her head—but her expression was anything but casual.

Tatum swallowed. Oh, I’m so dead.

She opened the door and slid into the passenger seat, trying to act normal. “Hey, baby.”

Jennie didn’t even start driving. She just turned and looked at Tatum.

“…You’re mad,” Tatum realized, voice quieter now.

Jennie took off her sunglasses and put the car in park before facing her fully. “Mad? Oh, I’m furious,” she said, voice dangerously calm. “Do you know how worried I was?”

Tatum shrunk into her seat. “In my defense—”

“There is no defense,” Jennie cut in sharply. “How do you always manage to lose yourself? And in Seoul, of all places? Do you even know how unsafe that is?”

Tatum bit her lip, feeling very small. “Well, when you put it like that…”

Jennie sighed, shaking her head. “You are so lucky I was free. What if I hadn’t been? What if something had happened to you?”

Tatum hesitated before reaching over, her fingers lightly brushing against Jennie’s wrist. “I knew you’d come.”

Jennie’s glare softened just slightly.

“I called you first,” Tatum continued, voice softer now.

Jennie exhaled, lips pressed together as she studied Tatum’s face.

Tatum barely had time to react before Jennie’s fingers curled into her hoodie, pulling her in with a force that made her breath catch. And then—Jennie’s lips crashed into hers.

It was intense, heated, and left no room for argument.

Tatum barely had a second to process before she melted into it, her hands instinctively reaching out—one gripping Jennie’s thigh while the other slid up to cup her jaw. Jennie sighed against her lips, her hands still fisted in Tatum’s hoodie like she needed her closer, needed to feel her right there.

Jennie kissed her like she was proving a point, like she was punishing her for scaring her, like she was relieved but too frustrated to say it out loud. Her lips were warm, soft, but demanding—pulling a quiet whimper from Tatum that Jennie definitely caught.

Tatum tried to keep up, tilting her head as Jennie deepened the kiss. Her fingers brushed up Jennie’s neck, threading into her hair, tugging just enough to earn a low hum of satisfaction from her girlfriend.

Jennie didn’t let up.

She nipped at Tatum’s bottom lip, tugging it between her teeth before soothing the sting with a slow, lingering kiss.

Tatum felt herself sinking further into the seat, her back pressing into the car door as Jennie shifted closer. Her perfume filled Tatum’s senses—warm, familiar, and dizzying.

Jennie kissed her again, slower this time but just as deep, her hands finally leaving Tatum’s hoodie to slide up her arms, then to her jaw, holding her in place.

Tatum’s pulse roared.

Jennie’s nails lightly scratched the base of her neck, sending a shiver down her spine.

Tatum barely had a moment to breathe before Jennie’s lips trailed down, pressing teasingly slow kisses along her jawline, down to the curve of her neck.

“Jen,” Tatum exhaled, her fingers tightening in Jennie’s hair.

Jennie didn’t stop. She brushed her lips over the spot where Tatum’s pulse was racing, letting her teeth scrape just enough to make Tatum tense. Then, she kissed over it again, her breath hot against Tatum’s skin.

Tatum let her head fall back against the headrest, her own hands wandering—brushing up Jennie’s arms, gripping her waist.

“You drive me crazy,” Jennie muttered, her lips still ghosting over Tatum’s neck before she pulled back slightly, her eyes dark, pupils blown wide.

Tatum smirked, despite how breathless she was. “Good crazy?”

Jennie exhaled sharply, then leaned in again—kissing her harder this time, making Tatum’s smirk completely disappear.

It was dizzying, the way Jennie kissed—possessive, slow but insistent, her hands roaming, nails scratching lightly over Tatum’s skin before gripping onto her waist. Tatum gasped into her mouth, and Jennie took full advantage of it, deepening the kiss again, stealing every bit of air Tatum had left.

Tatum couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe—and she never wanted it to stop.

Jennie finally broke away, her forehead resting against Tatum’s, both of them catching their breath.

Tatum blinked up at her, lips swollen, cheeks flushed. “Still mad at me?” she murmured, voice slightly hoarse.

Jennie let out a short, breathy laugh, her thumb brushing over Tatum’s cheek. “Oh, so mad.”

Tatum grinned. “Wanna yell at me some more?”

Jennie rolled her eyes, then kissed her again—this time, slow, lazy, like she had all the time in the world.

And honestly? Tatum wouldn’t mind if they stayed like this forever.

@multiliker @goofymickeyr @yuyuy90 @hydrardz @wtfisthisnoclueman @reiiaokii @somedaydream @yjiminswallet @inejghafawifesblog @jaythegirlkisser @xochitlisbest @1800hotnfunn @awkwardtoafault

[binisainz]

does this feeling go both ways ? ⸻ lando norris x reader ⋮ part three .

“kit-kat.” the nickname is so familiar, so easy, and it makes your stomach flip in a way that is so utterly humiliating that you have to set down your chopsticks before you snap them clean in half. “that’s the dumbest thing i’ve ever heard you say.” you bristle. defensively, out of habit, you go: “oh, fuck off.” or, the amylaurie au.

part  one,  two,  three,  four, epilogue. word  count.   5.2k a  study  on.   non-linear  storytelling,  words  lifted  straight  from  the  little  women  (2019)  script,  gifted  kid  burnout,  stem  girlie!reader,  mechanic!reader,  childhood  friends  to  strangers  to  friends  to  lovers,  angst  with  a  happy  ending  (!!),  rooting  so,  so  hard  for  the  anti-hero. author's  note.   LANDO  NORRIS  P2  !!!  i  already  told  myself  i  was  going  to  post  a  chapter  today  immaterial  of  the  results  but  we  got  a  1-2  on  mclaren  baby  !!  makes  me  want  to  write  a  piastri  series  so  bad  …  but  i  digress  !!  u  might  wonder  why  do  i  wanna  know  is  constantly  in  the  mixtape,  and  that's  because  that's  where  the  title  comes  from  !  +  sorry  folks  this  chapter  is  all  angst  .  i  would  like  to  say  that  this  touches  reaaalll  heavy  on  the  burnout  part  of  gifted  kid  burnout.  i'm  shaking  y/n  by  her  shoulders  going  it's  so  hard  to  root  for  you  right  now  please  just  get  out  of  ur  own  head  !!   but  whatever  !  i  promise  u  all  a  happy  ending  (and  then  some  …  hehe  u  shall  see  soon.) mixtape.   do  i  wanna  know  cover  by  hozier,  anti-hero  by  taylor  swift,  quarter  life  crisis  by  taylor  bickett,  leonard  cohen  by  boygenius,  i'm  worried  it  will  always  be  you  by  katie  gregson-macleod,  backburner  by  niki.

NOW, 2024.

it starts with a text. and then another. and then another.

lando keeps his word. and maybe he shouldn’t, maybe it would’ve been easier if he hadn’t. if he had let that conversation in the park be the last of it, let your history fade into the sort of polite nothingness that most childhood friendships do. but no. he texts, sometimes even calls— stupid shit, mostly. memes, half-assed updates about whatever press work he’s stuck doing, complaints about travel schedules, about media duties.

he asks about your classes, about the internship, about whether or not you’ve had a proper meal today. you roll your eyes every time, but you still answer, still make time between your last assignments and your shifts at the mclaren office.

it’s pre-season, so maybe that’s why. maybe he’s just bored, filling the gaps of his time with your presence, the same way someone mindlessly taps a pen against the edge of a desk.  it’s just because he has time, because he’s in between media duties and training sessions, because he’s restless, because you’re the easiest option. once the season starts, he’ll forget. he won’t mean to, but he will. the texts will slow, the calls will stop, and you’ll be left replaying voice notes just to hear him say your name. it’s fine. whatever. it’s not like you need him to stay.

but then, one night, your phone vibrates against the stack of notes you’ve been trying— and failing— to organize, and it’s him.

from: lando n can i come over

you blink. stare at your phone. type out a response, then delete it. then type out another one. then delete that too. finally, you settle on:

to: lando n what do u mean ‘come over’

three dots appear, disappear, reappear.

from: lando n look out your window from: lando n i actually DO hope this is ur flat because i’d be really embarrassed if i was standing outside some rando’s window

you push your chair back so fast it scrapes against the floor, legs catching on the warped wood. when you yank open the window, he’s there, standing on the pavement, takeaway bag in one hand, phone in the other. he looks up, grins. lifts the bag like an offering.

“what the fuck?” you say, but you gesture toward the door anyway.

he’s on the other side of the door when you open it, grinning wildly, all teeth, and holds up the bag of food like an offering. “thought you’d be hungry.”

you let him in because— well. because you do. because he’s already here, because it’s easier than standing in the doorway arguing, because you don’t actually want him to leave. “you need to stop bribing me with food,” you say, shutting the door behind him.

“why would i stop if it keeps working?”

he says it so easily, like it’s a joke, like it’s just that simple. like you’re someone he wants to keep around. you snatch the takeaway bag out of his hand and ignore the way your stomach flips.

your flat isn’t much. just a studio, one barely-big-enough rectangle with a kitchenette, a couch, a too-small dining table buried under half-finished projects and old racing magazines that date as early as july, 2014. 

you never bothered decorating. never saw the point. mclaren was supposed to be temporary, and it’s not like you expect to be called back after graduation. you’re just here to do your time, finish the internship, figure out what’s next. even thinking about asking lando to put in a good word for you feels ridiculous— because he would, because he’s like that, and because it would just prove what you already know: you’re not good enough to make it on your own.

lando doesn’t seem to care about any of that, though. he drops onto the floor beside your coffee table without hesitation, already pulling open containers, and you follow, sitting cross-legged beside him, feeling too aware of yourself, of the space you take up. it’s stupid, feeling embarrassed when he’s the one who showed up at your place unannounced, but still. it’s kind of the principle of the matter.

you don’t know how the conversation gets there. or maybe you do, maybe it was inevitable, because he’s lando and you’re you and there are things you don’t say but still feel so achingly obvious.

but it starts with the season. his, not yours.

“so,” you say, through a mouthful of rice, “do you actually think the car’s going to be better this year, or is this just the yearly pre-season delusion?”

lando makes a wounded sound, clutching at his chest. “kit-kat, you hurt me.”

“don’t dodge the question.”

he sighs, leaning back on his palms. “i mean… yeah. i think so. hope so. but it’s always a gamble, isn’t it? you never really know until you’re actually out there.”

you hum. “and what if it’s shit?”

he grins. “then it’s shit. but at least i’ll look good driving it.”

you roll your eyes, but the corner of your mouth twitches. “that’s the most lando norris thing you’ve ever said.”

he nudges your knee with his own. “you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

it’s not. you don’t say that, but it’s not.

you’re halfway through your spring roll when he turns the question on you.

“what about you?”

you blink. “what about me?”

“what’s next?” he asks, and there’s something too earnest in his tone, “after you graduate. what are you going to do?”

the question is simple. so simple. “i don’t know,” you say, too nonchalantly, shoving another bite into your mouth. “probably go home.”

lando frowns. “you’re not staying with mclaren?”

you snort. “why would they keep me?”

“because you’re good?” he says, matter-of-factly.

you don’t know why it grates on you, why it makes something bitter rise in your throat. maybe because you don’t believe it, not really. maybe because he does.

“i’m a failure.” you don’t mean to say it, but it slips out anyway, quiet and raw and ugly. you don’t look at him, just stare at the mess of containers on the coffee table. “josie is off in new york making an actual difference, and i’m a failure.”

lando flinches, just a little, at josie’s name. barely noticeable, but you catch it anyway. you wish you hadn’t said anything.

“that’s a pretty big statement to make at twenty-one,” he says instead, setting down his chopsticks. “and while interning for mclaren.”

you let out a humorless laugh. “well, oxford took all the vanity out of me, and the mclaren program made me realize i’d never be a genius.” the words come out before you can stop them, before you can filter them into something less pathetic. but it’s late, and you’re exhausted, and maybe you don’t care as much as you should. “so i’m giving up on all my foolish hopes.”

lando just looks at you, head tilted, brows drawn together like you’ve said something particularly insane. “seems like a waste of your talent and energy.”

you snort. “but talent isn’t genius. and no amount of energy can make it so.” you push a stray grain of rice around with your chopsticks. “i want to be great, or nothing. and if i can’t have that, why should i even try?”

there’s a silence. a heavy one. he looks at you, properly looks at you, and you wonder if he’s seeing right through all the ways you’ve tried to make yourself small.

and then— “kit-kat.” the nickname is so familiar, so easy, and it makes your stomach flip in a way that is so utterly humiliating that you have to set down your chopsticks before you snap them clean in half. “that’s the dumbest thing i’ve ever heard you say.”

you bristle. defensively, out of habit, you go: “oh, fuck off.”

but he doesn’t. he keeps looking at you, keeps holding your gaze like he actually gives a shit about what you just said, and it throws you off balance more than anything.

“i mean it,” he says, voice even. “you always used to go on and on about how things worked— cars, engines, whatever— and you knew everything about them. like, to a terrifying degree. that doesn’t just go away. you’re good at what you do.”

you press your lips together, suddenly feeling small in a way you don’t like. “you haven’t seen me in years. you don’t know that.”

“doesn’t matter.” he shrugs. “i still believe it.”

you don’t know what to do with that. with the way he says it so simply, like it’s fact. like his belief in you is solid, unshakable, something you couldn’t undo even if you tried. it’s the kind of certainty that used to come so easily to you— when you were younger, when everything was laid out in neat little steps, when you could open up a manual and follow it piece by piece and end up with something that made sense. there was an answer for everything back then, a method to follow, a way to be right. you had been good, then. not just good— great. brilliant, even. just like lando had called you.

but somewhere along the way, something shifted. the equations got messier, the answers became less certain. talent wasn’t enough anymore. you were supposed to push further, aim higher, but every time you did, it felt like you were grasping at something just out of reach. and then, eventually, you stopped reaching. because it was exhausting, because the effort felt pointless, because maybe— maybe— you had never actually been that great to begin with. maybe they had all just been wrong about you.

that’s what oxford did to you. tore you down, stripped you of whatever confidence you used to have, made you look at yourself in the mirror and see someone painfully, infuriatingly average staring back. and mclaren— oh god, mclaren only made it worse. because now, you weren’t just average. you were below average. surrounded by people who were actually brilliant, people who could take apart an engine and put it back together with their eyes closed, who could run calculations in their heads before you could even pull out a pen.

so no, you don’t believe him when he says you’re good. because you know better now. you know that being good isn’t enough. great or nothing, right?

and that’s the worst part, isn’t it? because he believes it. and the fact that he does makes something ache deep in your chest.. it would be easier if he just let it go, if he let you disappear into your own insignificance the way you’ve been trying to for years. but no— he sits here, in your tiny flat, looking at you like you’re still that eight-year-old kid who used to explain aerodynamics to him using the pieces of a half-disassembled toaster.

like he still thinks you’re brilliant.

you shift, uncomfortable, needing to change the subject before you start to believe him. “you’re actually an idiot if you drove a sports car all the way here.”

he scoffs, rolling his eyes, but there’s something in the curve of his mouth that gives him away— amusement, maybe, like he knows exactly what you’re doing, how you’re dodging the weight of his words, but he lets you get away with it anyway.  “oh, shut up. it’s in the parking lot if you wanna go look at it.”

you roll your eyes but get up anyway, making your way to the window near your bed. he follows, falling into step beside you, close enough that his shoulder almost brushes against yours.

when you peer down, the lamborghini miura p400 sticks out like a sore thumb, sleek and ridiculous and so incredibly orange among the rows of sensible, ordinary cars. you almost laugh. of course he fucking would. “jesus christ,” you mutter. “you actually drove all the way to woking in that?” you ask, more for something to say than anything else.

“course i did.” his voice is laced with amusement, and you don’t even have to look to know he’s still grinning. “what else was i gonna take? the bus?”

you shake your head, and when you turn back around, lando’s already making himself comfortable on your double bed, arms stretched behind his head, ankles crossed. like he belongs here. like this is easy.

“no outside clothes allowed.” you say, because it’s the first thing that comes to mind, because your brain is scrambling, because your face is growing hotter and hotter.

he barely lifts his head, just smirks at you, all lazy and self-satisfied. “i’m sure you can make an exception for me.”

your stomach twists, and you whip a pillow at his face without thinking. he dodges, laughing, and you roll your eyes so hard it nearly hurts. he’s still sprawled out on your bed, utterly at ease in a way that makes your skin prickle, like he belongs here, like he’s not intruding at all. like you’re the one who should feel out of place.

you don’t know why you let him in. you don’t know why you keep letting him in.

there’s a beat of silence. you hear him shifting behind you, the rustle of fabric, the creak of your mattress as he moves. then, his voice, casual, teasing: “you gonna stand there all night, or are you actually gonna sit down?” again, you think, with a twinge of fond annoyance, like he owns the place.

you glance back at him, scowling. “you’re taking up all the space.”

he lifts his hands in mock surrender, smirking. “fine, i’ll move.” except he doesn’t. if anything, he spreads out even more, one arm behind his head, the other now draped lazily over his stomach.

you exhale sharply, pressing your fingers to your temple. you should kick him out. you should tell him to go. but your bed looks warm, and the weight of the evening is pressing down on you, and the thought of sitting alone in your too-quiet flat, left alone with your thoughts, makes your stomach twist.

so you sit at the edge of the bed first, testing the waters. he doesn’t say anything, just watches you, the amusement in his expression tempered with something softer, something unreadable.

your legs feel stiff, so you stretch them out, curling your toes against the fabric of your blanket. then, carefully, cautiously, you shift backward, lying down with a sharp exhale, as if the movement itself is something to be endured. you stay on your back, arms folded loosely over your stomach, your entire body tense like you’re expecting him to comment on it.

he doesn’t.

instead, the silence stretches, comfortable, the only sound the distant hum of the city outside. you focus on the overhead light, how it flickers slightly, how the buzz of it fills the quiet.

lando looks at you. you can see in your periphery, his eyes flickering over your face, your expression, and for a second, it feels like he sees too much.

“hi.” he says, softly.

your chest feels tight, breath catching, forcing yourself to turn, to look at him, really look at him.

you swallow, heart in your throat. “hi,” you whisper back.

THEN,  2017.

the wind is soft, curling through the new grass, the spring sky is a half-hearted shade of blue, still too stubborn to let go of the winter season. you’re on the swingset, not swinging, just letting yourself rock slightly, toes digging into the dirt. it’s still too cold to really enjoy it, but you like being outside. you like the quiet.

inside, you can hear them. not the words, exactly, just the shape of the argument. the sharp-edged rhythm of josie’s voice, the shorter, clipped replies from lando. it’s almost funny. in a not-funny way. lando doesn’t argue. he complains, sure, he whines, but he doesn’t fight back like this. not usually.

you don’t need to hear what’s being said to know how it ends, so you don’t listen.

instead, you focus on the wildflowers pushing up from the ground, the ones by the gate, sprouting in uneven clusters like they couldn’t quite agree on where to grow. people think flowers are delicate, soft, but they’re not, you know they’re not. they’re engineered for survival, roots gripping tight, petals opening and closing like moving parts in a machine. people think they just bloom because it’s spring, because the sun is out, because it’s pretty. but it’s all a process, isn’t it? cause and effect, survival instincts older than anyone could trace.

you wonder if you should be learning something from them.

because you know you’re smart. not in a vanity kind of way— just in a fact kind of way. you always have been. tests have always been easy, classes have always been something to ace without thinking too much about it. it’s never been a question. but it turns out there are things in life that don’t follow the exact science, things that aren’t a matter of logic or problem-solving. like the way people can leave. like the way they can decide, one day, that they don’t want you in their life anymore. like the way you can like someone, really like someone, and it won’t change a single thing.

the door slams.

the sound pulls you from your thoughts, but you don’t look up right away. you already know who it is.

lando moves like he doesn’t want to be seen, shoving his hands into his pockets as he steps off the porch. his head is down, his shoulders tense. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was just another restless boy with nowhere to go. but you do know better.

he doesn’t say anything. neither do you.

instead, you watch him from the corner of your eye as he walks across the lawn, kicking at a stray pebble like it personally wronged him. you don’t need to ask what happened. you don’t need to hear it. josie made her decision.

and it’s stupid, it’s so incredibly stupid, but all you can think, for one terrible, selfish second, is: i wouldn’t have done that if you asked me.

but he didn’t. and he won’t.

you grip the rusted chains of the swingset a little tighter, feeling the rough metal bite into your palms. it’s grounding, in a way— simple, tangible, something you can hold. something that makes sense. not like this. not like him.

because here's the thing: you understand machines better than you understand people.

machines are easy. they break for a reason. they wear down from friction, from heat, from stress applied in the wrong places. there’s always an answer, always something you can point to— a clogged filter, a part too old and rusted to function anymore. but people— people are different. unpredictable. people leave for no reason at all. they look you in the eye, say things you want to believe, and then walk away before you can decide if you should.

machines, you can fix.

lando, you don’t know how to help.

you stand from the swing, stretching out the stiffness in your legs. this is probably the last time you’ll see him in a while. maybe ever.

it’s an in-between. the moment before something ends, the breath before something is lost.

he’ll leave, because that’s what he does. you’ll stay, because that’s what you do. another in-between.

he lifts a hand in a half-hearted wave, barely looking back.

you wave back, even though he doesn’t see it, doesn't see you, then turn and walk inside.

NOW, 2024.

the bed is too small for two people. the company housing you’ve been stuck in for months now is cheap, everything here barely above the standard, bare minimum functional. the mattress is thin, the pillows aren’t much better, and the heater has been broken for the past few days, kicking in and out like it can’t make up its mind.

but you’re warm, and you’re not sure if it’s because the heater decided to cooperate for once or because lando is here, lying next to you, his arm tucked under his head, his curls pressed awkwardly against the pillow.

the mechanic in you wants to test the hypothesis— press your cold toes against his shin, see if he jolts away or if the heat lingers, trace a hand against his wrist, against the veins that press up faintly against his skin, check his pulse, compare it to the way your own heart is beating too fast for a moment like this.

but you don’t. because you’re sososososososoooooo normal. and sane. and completely, absolutely unaffected by him being here.

lando says something, something stupid and sarcastic, and you huff out a laugh, shaking your head against the pillow. it feels almost normal, almost like before, like you’re fifteen again and he’s still the boy with the stupid grin and the easy charm, and you’re sitting next to him, rolling your eyes, pretending you’re not laughing at his dumb jokes when you always are.

“what?” he asks, the corner of his mouth twitching, and you shake your head again, pressing your face into the pillow for a second before looking at him.

“you’re so fucking annoying,” you tell him, and he gasps dramatically.

“me? me?” he says, putting a hand over his chest like he’s offended. “this is how you treat me? after all these years?”

“you always do this,” you grumble, not meeting his eye.

“do what?”

“make me laugh when i don’t want to.”

he grins, fully now, something boyish and triumphant. you hate him. except you don’t. you never could.

you want to ask him again. if he drove here from glastonbury. because even now, even after years of knowing better, some stupid part of you still associates him with that town, that he still belongs to sleepy english countryside roads and not monaco, that he still exists in the same orbit as you and not constantly thousands of miles away. he hasn’t lived there in years, you know that, has spent most of his time in monaco, in hotels, in paddocks and airplanes and places you’ve only ever seen in pictures. he hasn’t been the boy with the curls and the stormy eyes you once knew for a long time.

but right now, he looks like him.

“i’m flying to bahrain tomorrow,” he says, offhanded, like it’s not important. like he’s not leaving again.

and you know you shouldn’t ask. you know you shouldn’t. but you do anyway, because you’re tired, and you’re frustrated, and he’s here, in this stupidly cramped company housing, the night before one of the most important nights of the season, and you just don’t get it. “then why are you here?”

and he looks at you.

and it’s— god.

it’s the softest you’ve ever seen him, like the edges of him have blurred, like he’s looking at you and actually seeing you, like you are something he has just now realized he wants to reach for. his expression is open in a way it almost never is, something that makes your chest feel tight, something that makes your stomach twist.

“why?” he says, and then he smiles, something small, something stupid, something devastating. “you know why.”

your heart stutters.

he says it like it’s simple. like it’s a fact. like the answer has been in front of you this entire time and you were just too blind to see it.

but that’s the problem. you do see it. you see it too clearly, and it’s terrifying.

your breath catches. your fingers curl into the sheets. something in your chest tightens, seizes, and you don’t even realize you’ve frozen up until he tilts his head slightly, brow furrowing in frustration.

“no,” you say, pushing yourself up off of mattress, voice sharp. “no, lando, don’t— don’t do this.”

he sits up too, mouth curving into a frown, reaching for you, but you pull back, swing your legs over the side of the bed, standing too fast.

“you’re being mean,” you say, and your voice cracks on it, and you hate it.

“you don’t—” you inhale sharply, pressing the heel of your palm to your forehead, pacing the few steps the room allows. your heart is beating too fast, your hands shaking, your chest tight with something too big to hold in. “i have been second to my sister my entire life, and i will not be the person you settle for just because you cannot have her. not when—” your breath hitches, your throat closing up. “not when i spent my whole life loving you.”

there’s a part of you— a small, sick, selfish part— that wants to take it back. that wants to let him stay. that wants to be the afterthought, the backburner, the waiting room. that wants to sit in the wreckage of this moment and pretend it’s fine, fine, fine.

"get out," you seethe, but it doesn’t feel like enough. it doesn’t feel like it holds all of what you mean, what you want to say. because what you actually want to say is: how dare you. how dare you come here, how dare you look at me like that, how dare you make me think i can want something i cannot have.

“don’t do this,” he says, rough and quiet, and it’s not a demand, not even an argument. it’s something closer to a plea. and fuck him for that. fuck him for making it sound like you’re the one ruining things. like you’re the one breaking his heart.

the laugh that escapes your lips is humorless, bitter. “you don’t get to ask me that,” you say, and you’re trembling now. you shake your head, blinking rapidly, like it might stop the way your vision is starting to blur. "you don't get to do this. you don’t get to— to show up after years and say that and expect me to—"

you stop yourself before you can finish the thought. before you can make it worse.

lando's jaw clenches, and he steps forward, just slightly, like he wants to reach for you, like he wants to fix it.

but he can’t.

you step back, out of reach, your throat burning.

“just go,” you say, and it’s barely above a whisper.

he exhales sharply, running a hand through his curls, tugging at them in frustration. “you’re not being fair.”

"fair?" you echo, and something inside you snaps. "you want to talk about fair, lando? fair is not spending my entire life in the fucking background, waiting for you to— to see me. fair is not you showing up after all this time and making me feel like this, like i'm just—like i’m just—”

you bite down on the words, pressing your lips together so hard it hurts.

"i do," he says, “see you.” and his voice is softer now, careful in a way that makes you want to claw at your own skin. "you make yourself small," he murmurs, searching your face, "but i see past that."

you freeze.

it's unfair, the way he says it. unfair, the way he looks at you— like he means it, like it’s the easiest thing in the world, like it isn’t utterly ridiculous. like you’re someone worth seeing at all.

because he can't be serious. not really.

because if he sees you, then what the hell is he still doing here?

you stare at him, stomach twisting. the longer this stretches, the more impossible it feels. the longer he stands there, in your tiny, freezing room, after driving all the way here, after finding you, after telling you all these things you never let yourself want to hear— the more it feels like a joke.

your jaw tightens, and you force out a breath, shaking your head. “you’re so full of shit.”

lando exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. "you think i'm lying?"

you don’t answer.

because of course you do. of course, you think he's lying, because what other explanation could there be? people don’t just show up like this, not for you. people don’t just say things like this, not to you.

lando is— lando is bright lights and roaring crowds and champagne on podiums and gold stars you stopped earning a long time ago. he is big and brilliant and out in the world, his name on headlines, his face on screens, and you are this. you are small and tired and standing in a too-cold room in a life that is barely yours, trying to pretend like the walls aren’t closing in.

so why the hell is he here?

you cross your arms, trying to hold yourself together. “you’re telling me—” you say, slow and deliberate, “that you drove all the way here, to my shitty flat, the night before you’re supposed to fly to bahrain— just to tell me that you ‘see me?’”

lando looks at you, and it’s almost frustrating how unaffected he seems. "yes."

a bitter laugh slips out before you can stop it. "right." because that makes sense. because that's fucking believable.

lando's expression tightens, his patience beginning to wear thin. "why is that so hard for you to believe?"

why? that's the million-pound question, isn't it?

why? because you are not brilliant anymore, if you ever were. because you are a little fish in an impossibly large pond, and the tide has long since pulled you under. because people like him don’t choose people like you. because if you believe him— if you really believe him— then you’ll have to face the fact that you’ve spent years telling yourself a lie.

you let out a sharp breath. "because you don’t mean it."

lando flinches like you've struck him. “you think i came here to lie to you?”

you have to believe that. you have to.

because if you don’t— if you believe him, if you let yourself think, even for a second, that he might really be here, that he might really want you— then you won’t survive it when he eventually realizes he was wrong.

“i think,” you say, voice colder now, “that you’re here because i’m convenient. because i’m familiar. because i’m the easiest thing in your life right now, and you needed something easy. right before the season starts.”

lando’s eyes darken, something like hurt flickering across his face before he masks it. “that’s not fair.” he repeats.

“isn’t it?” you shoot back. “you live in fucking monaco. you race cars for a living. you could have anything, anyone, and you came here? to me?” you scoff. "be fucking for real, lando."

his jaw clenches. “i came here because i wanted to.”

“and that’s what doesn’t make sense.”

he stares at you, eyes searching, as if looking long enough might make you understand.

but you do understand. and that’s the problem.

because a part of you— some small, traitorous part, buried deep beneath all the years and tests and report cards of self-doubt and exhaustion— knows he means it. knows that he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t. knows that he sees something in you that you can’t see in yourself.

but you refuse to let it take root. refuse to let yourself believe in something that will only crumble in your hands.

so you shake your head, step back, put as much space between you as you can. “just go, lando.”

his brows knit together, like he wants to argue, like he wants to fight back, but he doesn’t.

he just looks at you, long and quiet, something unreadable in his expression. and then he nods. and he leaves.

[rcvcgers]

hii i rlly like ur writing the drama and how u like draw me into the story with emotions is so GAHHH and i have a request, can u write abt the reader (it can be non mc reader or mc reader) deciding to call rafayel or sylus a cutesy adorable nickname, maybe something like “raffie” for rafayel or “lulu” for sylus? it would be rlly funny since i think rafayel would probably pout about his nickname being something so childish but sylus would be more amused,

i’m fine with you writing about only one of them if u don’t accept multiple characters, if thats the case just choose which one you would think is more fun to write abt with this scenario

thank you!!

thank you so much for your request!!!! this was so much fun to write!!!!

New Nicknames

pairings: sylus x reader , rafayel x reader (can be non!mc or mc doesn't matter) SEPARATE!!

synopses: sylus ignores you so you gift him a new pet name \\ you unknowingly give rafayel a new nickname

word count: 2.1k words (about 1k for each of them!

author's note: this was so much fun to write omg i love silly lil requests like these!

content warning: suggestive endings for both of them but nothing explicit!

You watch Sylus with a close eye, taking in the way he holds the handgun which, quite frankly, looks minuscule in his large, calloused hands. There’s a faint smile on his face before it falls when the cloth in his hand is pushed into the metal of the gun. His brows furrow, the man clearly taking some of his frustrations out on the smudge.

You cock your head to the side, pen dropping onto his desk that he happily let you use. His face relaxes, and so do you, until he hones in on that one spot again. Your brows knit together now, unsure of what has him so riled up.

You usually called him a loving pet name to get his attention.

Honey. Babe. Daddy. Baby. My Dragon.

You know, the usual pet names you have in your rotation. So which one will you use today?

“Honey? What’s wrong?” you ask with a sweet and gentle tone. Your voice falls on deaf ears, though. You frown and narrow your eyes at him. “Babe?”

No response. That’s okay, though! You have a few more left on the list to go through.

“Baby!”

Nothing.

“Sweetie!”

Nada.

“My Dragon, I need help!”

Again, silence.

“Hey, bitch!”

Can he really not hear you?

“Daddy!”

Sylus doesn’t even flinch. You pucker your lips, a glare now overtaking your face.

He always responds to you. One time, when you called him after waking up in the middle of the night, he picked up your call in the middle of a fight. Sylus always answers when you call, so what has him so bothered that he’s essentially ignoring you?

“Sylus,” you deadpan. He doesn’t budge. The brute brings the hand gun up to his face, a look of disgust flashing across his expression, red eyes practically glowing from irritation and anger.

And still: no response.

You lean back in his chair. It creaks and you flinch, knowing that it would surely catch his attention instead of your beckons and calls. It doesn’t, though, and you puff out a breath of amused air. The tip of the pen taps against the wooden desk, filling in the silence. You swipe your tongue over your teeth.

Maybe a change of pace is what your Sylus needs. Should you throw your pen at him? You should write a note on the piece of paper, one that drags him for ignoring you, and chuck it at his pretty face so he can finally pay attention to you.

No…that won’t work. Sylus is clearly more interested in the gun than he is with you.

That’s it! You’ve had enough! Time to grant him a new nickname to add to the roster, one that is sure to make his nostrils flare with embarrassment when you call him it in front of Luke and Kieran.

“Lulu!” your patronizing giggle carries across the room, finally hitting his ears.

Sylus’ head perks up but he doesn’t face you. His expression contorts, looking vine more confused and concerned than before.

“Oh, Lulu, you wound me,” you coo, propping your chin on the heel of your hand, leaning on the desk. “Mmm, I think I prefer Susu to Lulu,” you mumble quite loudly. “Yeah! Susu! That’s your new nickname!”

“Susu?” Sylus breathes out with an entertained chuckle. He angles his face to look at you, one eyebrow perked up on his face. “Is that what you wish to call me, kitten?” You nod and cross your arms over your chest. “Ah, I see.”

Sylus places the gun on the exquisite coffee table, one that is lined with gold, mind you, and relaxes into the couch. He lays his arm on the back of the couch, red eyes fixated on you at his desk. A smirk forms on his lips. He takes his time observing you, loving every micro-expression you throw at him, challenging him to push against his new nickname. If he didn’t know any better, he would think that you have taken over his role as boss with the way you hold yourself at his desk, in his chair. 

“May I ask why the fearless leader of Onychinus wishes to give me a new nickname?” His voice is low, teasing. A smile grows on your face, one that Sylus wishes he can see up close.

“You didn’t answer me the first thousand times I called for you—”

“Thousand?”

“Yes, thousand, keep up, Susu,” you smile with an innocent shrug. Sylus’ chuckle floats across the room, vibrating your body.

The man stands from the couch, his tall stature already towering over you, and he approaches the wooden desk. He slowly circles around it. You swivel in your chair, trying to spin away, but he catches you before you go, bringing you back to him. Sylus leans down, his hand resting on the back of the chair right next to your head.

“You ignored me,” you push the words out of your mouth, leaning back into the chair.

“I’m sorry, my beloved,” Sylus purrs. He reaches for your face, fingertips grazing your cheekbone. “I promise to always listen for your call. Forgive me?”

You think on it for a moment. The two of you both know that you are bound to forgive him, to let him back into your good graces, but you two are also very well aware that you are allowed to milk every second of it, to get Sylus to do whatever it is you want.

“I dunno, Susu,” you hum. Sylus contains his eye roll at the nickname, keeping his gaze on you. You innocently bat your eyelashes at him, feigning innocence and heartbreak. “You did hurt my feelings…what if I needed help?”

“Help from what, kitten?” he interjects.

“What if I got a paper cut,” you pull the excuse out of your ass, “it would have been all your fault for letting me get hurt.”

The two of you stare at each other. You stare at him with fire in your eyes while he stares at you like you are the most adorable kitten on the planet.

“Ah, I see, I see,” he muses. He pulls away for a quick second and you think you have won, finally, until he snatches you from the chair, tossing you over his shoulder. You gasp and hit his back, barely making a dent as he carries you out of the office.

“What are you doing?!” you squeal, containing your giggles.

“I am going to show a certain kitten just what her…susu can do.”

Rafayel’s head sits between your legs, the back of his neck pressed against your crotch. His eyes are closed while your fingers run through his hair, untangling every knot that he may have. He contently sighs and pushes up into your touch, even going as far as to move his head around to the spots he wants you to scratch and pay attention to.

You love moments like this. Moments where it is just the two of you, where the outside world cannot come in and bother you for the millionth time that day. Rafayel isn’t known to be the most patient of men, or guppies as you and Thomas liked to refer to him as, and the art exhibit the two of you went to that night left him feeling emotionally and physically drained.

There are only so many times that the painter could be asked about the meaning behind a painting or where got his inspiration for a chaotic ocean piece he made.

So here you are, massaging his scalp in the hopes that his headache will go away.

“Hey, cutie,” Rafayel’s voice causes you to look down at him. The moonlight floats through the windows, painting his face the most beautiful shade of blue. You smile at him and press a quick kiss to his forehead, pulling your fingers away from his scalp. “Do you think we can take a bath together tomorrow morning? I have a feeling that I’m going to be sore.”

“You’re going to be sore?” you snort.

“Yes! I did a lot tonight, thank you very much! That wine glass was really heavy and I walked a lot! Like, so many times throughout the exhibition!” Rafayel whines, looking up at you with a pout on his face. You chuckle and roll your eyes, placing your hands on his cheeks, squishing them.

“What about we take a bath right now, hm?” you hum. Rafayel’s face immediately brightens. He jumps from his spot on the ground and takes your hands, dragging you to the large bathroom.

“Great idea, cutie!” he smiles, kicking the door open. “Who knew you could be so smart!”

You laugh and drop his hand, watching as he turns on the tub’s water faucet, running around the bathroom. He grabs a bag of epsom salt and a glass bottle filled with a light pink liquid. He hands them you, which you place on the countertop behind you, and watch as he slips his layers of clothes off of his body.

“Come on! We need to get in before the water goes cold!” Rafayel beams at you.

You nod and smile. He continues to undress, his clothes pooling at his feet before being picked away, scattering across the marble bathroom floor. You, however, remain in your clothes, wanting Rafayel to work just a little bit more for his bath.

You love watching how excited he gets to do the most mundane things with you. Going to an art exhibition where he’s the star? He loves that he gets to have you by his side while soaking in all of the glory from people’s constant praises! You love the small smile on his face while you scratch his head and untangle his hair, knowing just how much he loves to be pampered. Taking a bath? Oh my! He is so overjoyed to lay in the same tub as you and boy can you feel his happiness!

“Are you pranking me right now?” Rafayel asks. He waddles across the bathroom and slips his hands under your shirt, slipping it off of your body with ease. A quiet laugh escapes your lips as he struggles with unbuttoning your pants buttons. Your hands find themselves back on his head while he kneels before you, working on the jammed zipper. “I think I’m going to need a pair of scissors to cut you out of these…”

“Oh, Raffie, I don’t think that’s necessary,” you breathe out, not realizing that a new nickname has just filled in the bathroom’s silence. Rafayel’s hands freeze on your pants. His blueish-pink eyes shoot up to you, a scowl forming. You look down at him, one eyebrow raised. “What?”

“Did you just call me…Raffie?” he asks in a very much betrayed tone. Your divert your gaze for a brief moment before coming back to his eyes.

“Yes. Yes I did, Raffie,” you double down.

The man gasps. He stands up and grabs your bare shoulders, turning you around, walking you towards the exit. Laughter fills the nighttime scene and your head rolls back onto his shoulder. You dig your heels into the ground and hinder him from completely shutting you out.

“What’s wrong, Raffie? Do you not like it?”

“I am not Raffie! I am honey or baby or cinnamon toast crunch or handsome! Not Raffie! I am not a child!”

You have to fight the smile that forms on your face. It looks like you’re about to cry with the way your lips are turned downwards and the tears that well in your eyes. You slip under his grasp and go deeper inside the bathroom, hands fumbling with your pants. Your shoulders shudder from contained laughter, finally able to get the zipper to fall down, pushing the material down your legs.

“Hey! This bath is for me and me only now!” Rafayel calls from behind you.

Before he can protest any more, you turn around in all of your glory, tossing your hair over your shoulder. Rafayel pauses, stumbling over his words as his eyes glaze over your body. He blabbers, saying something about him not being a gullible guppy, and his hands immediately reach for you but you slap them away. He pouts, looking at you as you giggle.

“How can you laugh at my pain right now?” he crosses his arms over his chest, hip poking out. You shrug and grab the salt and bottle from the counter, pouring in the materials, swirling it around with your hand. Bubbles begin to form on top of the surface and you glance at Rafayel from over your shoulder.

“Does Raffie want to join me? Or will I be soaking alone?”

“Raffie — I mean — fuck, cutie, you made me nervous!” Rafayel whines, stepping into the bathtub, pulling you on top of him in the bath, your giggles and shared kisses bouncing around the room.

likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated! <3 i love seeing what you all have to say <3

masterlist of works

[hyuuukais]

Hiii!! I saw ur requests were open but if this makes u uncomfy for any reason no worries. I was skating home from work today and kinda got scraped up pretty bad so I was wondering if you'd write a Skz reaction to reader getting hurt by skating(I was skateboarding but if you want separate scenarios you can use roller skates or ice skates too I think that would be cool) and maybe nursing reader back to health idk just something fluffy? I was kinda discouraged from skating after I got all scraped up today :/

Ps. I love ur blog and I hope you have a great day/night 🩷

-🔮(if u have emoji anons I'd like to be this one)

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ SKZ SCENARIOS ⋆｡˚✴︎⋆

pairing : ot8 x reader

notes : hi !! i didn't know if you wanted texts or written, so i did a mix, i hope that's alright with you! and i actually don't have any emoji anons rn, you'd be my first, which is so exciting!! and i love love love the one you chose. i took your advice and did a variety of different types of skates :) oh! and this doesn't make me uncomfortable, little injuries/sick fics like this is okay :33

warnings : injuries (scraped knees/hands/face/arms, sprained wrist/ankle/concussion), blood mention, nausea, mentions of passing out/blacking out, reader called pet names (baby, honey, love), food mention

CHAN (wc: 561)

There's a knock on your door exactly eleven minutes later, and you trudge across your living room to open it. Chans face is etched with concern, his eyebrows furrowing deeper as he takes in the light bruising starting to appear on your cheekbone, a few red scratches from the tough asphalt accentuating the purple.

Without a word, he enters your living space and sets a small bag down on the coffee table. Chan takes some things out, then gestures you to move down the hallway to your bathroom. Suppressing a groan, you do as he says, trying not to wince every time you step. Another, much worse scrape paints your knee, stinging with every movement. By the time you're sitting on the edge of the tub, your eyes have watered in pain.

Chan kneels in front of you, looking up to into your watery eyes, but you avoid his gaze. With a soft sigh, he takes the bottle of peroxide and dampens a cloth, gently pressing it down on your bloody knee. You hiss at the contact, squeezing your eyes shut hard as he continues to pat the wound and surrounding flesh. It hurts so bad, and you swear you can feel your knee throbbing. What feels like hours is mere minutes, Chan taking the cloth away from your skin to reach for a nearby bandage. He takes care in wrapping the wound, placing a small kiss on the top of your knee once he's done.

"Now, let me see that pretty face of yours." Chan joins you on the edge of the rub, bringing a hand up to gently turn your face to his. "Doesn't look as bad as I thought, but it still needs to be cleaned... you're doing so good for me, baby."

He smiles at you, wiping a stray tear that's managed to escape from the corner of your eye. Your jaw clenches as he brings the cloth, freshly dampened in peroxide, to your skin again, patting in the same motion he did your knee. The sting isn't as bad, the cuts smaller and quicker to clean. As soon as Chan is done placing the smaller bandage on your cheekbone, he places a kiss over it. His palm comes to rest on your lower cheek and jaw, resting your foreheads together. Naturally, your eyes flutter shut as you relax under his touch, the pain and embarrassment forgotten almost completely in his presence.

"I love you," You whisper, sighing contently.

"I love you too," Chan smiles, backing his face away from yours. "How about you change into some comfy clothes and we put on that show you've been on about? Sound good?"

A smile breaks out on your face at the mention of the show, nodding excitedly at his suggestion. "We'll have to start at the beginning! I've been dying to show it to you."

He laughs, his eyes almost shutting from how wide his smile has gotten watching you grab his hand and lead him out of the bathroom. You're still talking as you change, but Chan just leans back on the bed listening, not daring to interrupt. He loves it when you're like this, gushing about your interests to your hearts content. It seems like a flip has switched from your dim mood, and Chan is glad he could do something to make you feel better.

MINHO (wc: 526)

And he does, he marches right to you despite the protests of the coaches spread on the chilled ground, one of which is making their way toward you. Slipping and sliding all the way to you, Minho makes it to your side first and tries to assess the situation.

"What happened?" Minho demands, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You've managed to sit up on your butt, feeling the cold ground seeping through your bottoms as you curl into yourself. Keeping your wrist close to your chest, you take deep breaths, in through the nose, out through the mouth. Staying calm is the only way you'll get through the throbbing pain in your wrist.

The coach stops just short of you, kneeling on the opposite side of Minho. "Y/n! Are you alright? That was a really bad fall."

All you can do is shake your head, eyes unmoving from the spot between your knees. With the nausea you're feeling, the only thing keeping you from jumping to the conclusion you've broken a bone is the fact you never heard a crack.

One minute, you were gliding on the ice, acing your practice jumps and having fun. The lessons you're doing have been going on for a few months now, and you've been getting better with each one. Knowing you've always wanted to try learning to skate, Minho had paid for a full year of lessons for your birthday, and you'd almost cried when he told you.

Yet, here you are, once again close to tears for a completely different reason. You knew not to put your arms out the way you did, landing on your wrist at an odd angle. Next thing you knew, you could barely move as pain seized you and threatened to have you black out.

"Honey," Minhos voice is next to your ear, one of his hands rubbing your back soothingly. "Let me help you up, we need to go."

-

Hours later, you've traveled to the hospital, been seen by a doctor, and sent home with a sprained wrist. The whole way home, there's been a pout on your face, and all you want to do now is lay down in bed and cry.

Minho can tell, he always can, so when you get home he leads you in the direction of the living room. At first, you're confused, but then he kisses your forehead and brings you the first furball he can find. Soonie gets comfortable in your lap as Minho leaves the room, coming back a few minutes later with the comforter from your bed.

"I know you want to change and go to bed," He says softly into your ear, placing another kiss on your lobe with a playful nibble that makes you giggle. "I know you're embarrassed. De-stress a bit first, calm down, then I'll run you a hot bath and we can settle in for the night."

"I guess I can do that," You mumble, leaning your head on his shoulder.

"Uh-uh, you will do that." Minho pats your head, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice. "I'm not leaving you with a choice."

CHANGBIN (wc:541)

It's not even ten minutes later that you spot him jogging down the street to meet you. You've scooted back into the grass to stay out of the way of other pedestrians, using your cold water bottle to soothe the scrapes on the palms of your hands. As soon as Changbin sees you, he's by your side and taking away the bottle, replacing it with his loving touch. He places a kiss on each palm, taking care to brush away the tiny pieces of ground off your skin.

Maybe it's how soft he's holding you, or just him being so quick to be with you when you're hurt, but you can feel tears well up in your eyes. The sound of your sniffles catches Changbin's attention immediately, and one of his hands is already on your face to thumb the tears away before they've even had the chance to fall.

"Bunny," Changbin coos, a pout on his face. "It's okay, you're okay. Let's get you cleaned up, how's that sound?"

You nod, letting him undo the laces of the roller skates, sliding them off your feet carefully. Thankfully, you didn't twist an ankle or anything, and you're honestly a bit surprised you didn't with the way you fell. Changbin ties the laces together, swinging them over his shoulder. Next, he helps you to your feet.

"You couldn't have brought me proper shoes to walk back in?" You joke, trying to find some humour in the situation.

"Why would I when I can do this-?" Hands hook under your legs and behind your back as he swings you into his arms bridal-style. You can't help but giggle at his antics, covering your face in embarrassment as a passer-by gives you two a look. Changbin lifts your torso close to him, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

Changbin carries you like this the whole fifteen minutes back home, keeping his head up high, proud of somewhat showing you off as you go, even if that wasn't the intent of holding you like this. Even when you do arrive home, he still refuses to let you go until you're safely in your bedroom, placing you down on the plush mattress. When you go to sit up, he pushes you back down gently, shaking his head.

"Stay put, let me do this!" Changbin almost whines, and you supress another fit of giggles at his reactions. "I want to treat you."

"It's just some scraped palms-"

"Yah!" He scolds, lifting up a hand. "You're still hurt. I'm not letting you do a thing for the rest of the evening."

Rolling your eyes playfully, you watch as Changbin goes into the en suite and comes back with some alcohol wipes. He sits next to you on the bed and takes one hand in his, gently patting down the scrapes. Mostly, your hands are just red from the fall, no longer bleeding at all, but Changbin still wraps your hands just in case, placing a kiss on each one afterwards.

"Next time, wait for me, okay?" Changbin looks at you, a small pout still present on his face.

"Yeah, yeah... I will," You promise, reaching out for him. "Now come here, I want cuddles."

HYUNJIN (wc: 549)

The whole right side of your face is bright red, a pouch of ice ironically held up to the raw skin. Hyunjin's face drops as he spots you across the arena, hurrying around to get to you. Once he does, he takes the hand holding the pouch away, examining your face.

"It's not as bad as it looks, probably," You say weakly, looking him in the eye. "I haven't actually seen, so that may be a lie."

"Does it hurt a lot?" You shake your head at his question. "Does anything else hurt?"

"My shoulder, a bit," You admit, dropping your gaze. "I landed weird, but I think it'll be fine. It's definitely not broken or dislocated, just sore."

Hyunjin shakes his head, looking out at the ice where other people are still skating. In his head, the world should have stopped for you the minute your body made contact with the ice. He huffs, breath coming out in a little cloud. Turning to him, you poke his arm to gain his attention back.

"I'm fine, really," You promise, but his expression tells you he doesn't quite believe that. "Can we just... go home?"

Nodding, Hyunjin stands and offers his hand to you. Not for physical support, but emotional, walking hand in hand out of the arena. The hallways are quiet as you detour for a bathroom break before leaving.

When you enter, the first thing you notice is just how red your skin has gotten, a noticeable difference from the other half of your face, but you can't help but snort. In all honesty, you look funny. The pain is low on a scale of 1-10, so you're able to find a bit more humour in the situation than Hyunjin at the moment. Once you exit, Hyunjin immediately grasps your hand in his again, his tight grip comforting. If anything, you're more embarrassed than anything.

Getting back to your place doesn't take long, and Hyunjin makes a beeline for your bathroom as you're still taking your coat off. You take your time meeting him in there, seeing some cream set out on the counter. As soon as you walk in, Hyunjin gestures for you to sit on the edge of the tub. Carefully, he puts a few small globs of the cream on your face. It stings a little, but feels nicer as he rubs it into the sore skin. His fingers glide over the curves of your face, taking care to cover every inch of your injury. When he's done, he turns your body and begins massaging the shoulder you landed on.

"Never downplay your pain, you hear me?" Hyunjin lightly scolds, resting his chin on your head as he pauses his actions.

"I meant it when I said it didn't really hurt." You giggle when Hyunjin sighs loudly at your answer. "But I won't, I swear. Does me promising this make you feel better?"

"Honestly?" Hyunjin hums, thinking for a moment. "No, not really, because I know you."

You can hear the teasing smile in his voice, the corners of your lips twitching into your own smile. His arms come around you, gently rocking you side to side, his plush lips pressing a kiss to your temple. Just having him by your side is healing enough.

JISUNG (wc: 608)

The gasp that leaves Jisung's mouth has people around him shooting weird glances, but all he's focused on his your body lying on the cement. There are a few shouts as he runs down to your body, slipping and sliding all the way down to you. You roll onto your back to see Jisung's face right above yours, eyes widening at how quickly he'd gotten to you.

"Baby! Are you okay? Are you hurt? Do we need to go to the hospit-" Jisung rambles, but you cut him off with a groan as you sit up, shaking your head, and he immediately stops talking.

You sit up cross-legged, taking a look over your limbs. With your elbows and knees protected, you've managed not to scrape anything. One of your new friends come running over as soon as she sees your on the ground, kneeling next to you on you other side.

"You okay?" She asks, looking you up and down.

"I'm fine, both of you." With some semi unnecessary help from Jisung, you stand up. "The only thing bruised here is my ego."

"Maybe we should go to the side for a second-" Jisung stops talking when the girl shoots him a look.

Noticing the way she's looking at him, you gently push her to the side and whisper something to her. She nods, giving one last look to Jisung before walking away. Taking a hold of Jisung's hand, you and him make your way back up and to your bag. He grabs it for you as you lead him over to a bench on the side.

Neither of you talk for a few minutes as you sip some water, looking out to everyone still skating, your own board sitting between your feet. It's a vibrant blue with orange accents, something Jisung picked out for you to celebrate you getting back into skating, along with the matching knee and elbow pads. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jisung fiddling with his fingers.

"I said I'm okay, you don't need to worry," You say with a soft laugh, turning your body to face him. He doesn't look at you, but he nods. "Sungie?"

"What if the board I got you is defective and that's why you fell?" Jisung looks at you briefly, glancing back to his fingers as he continues to voice his anxieties. "Or- or what if you hadn't had the pads and really got hurt?"

"Ji, look at me, please." You cup his cheek, gently making him turn; sad eyes stare back at you and your heart hurts just a bit. "None of this was because of you, and don't think of what could have happened. What matters is that I'm alright, and so are you, okay?"

He nods, and you can see a little bit of relief on his features with the small smile he gives you. You return the smile, bringing his face over to lean your foreheads together. After a moment, he pulls away just enough to place a kiss on your temple, whispering against your skin.

"You know I'd do anything for you." Jisungs hand tangles with yours, and you can feel your smile widen. "Anything, hurt or not. I'd stay by your side for a papercut."

This makes you laugh. "Remind me to text you next time I get one."

Your comment makes Jisung smile against your skin, and you back away enough to look him in the eye.

"Ready for me to go back out there?"

He nods, an embarrassed blush dusting his cheeks. "Yes, but if you do get hurt, I will be running back down there."

FELIX (wc: 851)

The two of you started the night off with some hot cocoa from a stand outside of the ice rink you were going to. Felix had been practically dying to take you out to the festival going on during the week once you both had a little time off, especially knowing your love for skating. Although the rink is small, he knew you'd love it anyway.

Now you're sitting on the side, sliding your shoes off and the skates on. The rentals fit a little loosely from all the usage, but still well enough once you tighten the laces. You help Felix with the fit of his, and all he can do is stare at you lovingly as you do this small act of service for him.

Holding hands, you lap around the ice smoothly a few times before slowing down. Neither of you really want to get off the ice yet, but you're legs are beginning to burn from the constant activity. There's a food truck of to the side, so you agree to take a break to eat and rest before continuing. You make a beeline for it on the other side of the rink, opting to go straight through rather than take your skates off early and walk around.

It's sudden, and you barely register you're falling until you've rolled off to the side. Pain radiates from your ankle, and Felix is by your side in an instant. When you look down to assess the damage, you notice your shoelace has become untied on one skate and is probably the cause of the fall. You frown; after all the years of skating, you know how to tie your laces tight enough. The one night you decide to use rentals, and you fall on your ass.

"Can you stand?" Felix asks, concern written all over his face.

You nod, letting him help you up. As soon as you put pressure on your right foot, your knees are buckling and you can't help but yelp in pain. Felix catches you, holding you tightly so you don't fall again.

"Love?" Felix holds you back a little, guiding you to sit down; thankfully, you were pretty much at the other side of the rink already. "Let me see... oh."

He pulls the skate off, along with your sock, to reveal the red, angry skin of your ankle, already beginning to swell slightly. Felix shakes his head, gently pushing your sock back up. You hiss in pain as his fingers brush the skin, an he looks up at you with worried eyes.

"We need to get you checked out, this looks bad." Felix takes your other skate off. "I'll be right back."

You watch him skate back to the other side to retrieve your belongings, manoeuvring through the crowds of people on the ice swiftly. When he returns, he helps you slip your left boot on, leaving the right one off just in case. People around you have barely even noticed the way you limp off the ice, Felix holding your right side to help take off the pressure. It doesn't take long for Felix to drive to the hospital from the rink. Despite the cold air, all you can focus on is the uncomfortable warmth from your ankle.

-

Entering your house with a groan, you hop stubbornly to your couch, covering your red face in embarrassment. Felix laughs softly at your reaction, kicking his shoes off before joining you. Gently, he brings your hands away from your face and brings one of his to turn your chin to look at him.

"Everyone makes mistakes, love," Felix cups your cheek when you pout. "One twisted ankle from busted skates isn't the end of the world. You'll heal, and I'll be here the whole time."

"What about-"

"No." Felix says firmly, shaking his head. "I'll be here. You're not allowed to walk without my help until you're better. Now," He takes a pillow, standing up and placing it down where he was sitting. "Let's get this thing elevated."

Felix takes your foot with care, lifting it onto the pillow. He leans over to kiss your forehead before leaving to the kitchen behind you.

"Comfort food?" He calls out, and you look back confused; he just leans against the counter with a small smile. "We didn't get to eat before, and I want you to be as comfortable as possible. I'll bring the flowers in for you too."

"You're too good to me," You sigh, but nod your head. "I'd love that. Can we just... cuddle after?"

"Of course we can." Felix's voice gets closer as he comes back to place another kiss on your forehead, but you want the real deal, reaching up to pull him closer by the neck.

His soft lips connect with yours and you melt into it, smiling into the kiss. When you eventually pull back, Felix leans his head on yours.

"I swear your kisses can heal me," You say quietly.

Felix looks down to where your foot sits atop the pillow, still red and swollen. "Nope, still twisted."

SEUNGMIN (wc: 922)

It's another ten minutes until you see Seungmin approaching from the other side of the food court, standing right as your eyes land on him. His hands are tucked behind his back, piquing your interest as he's clearly hiding something. Instead of stopping when he gets to you, Seungmin turns and walks a few steps backward, nodding you over to follow him with a smirk on his face. You run up to him, trying to see what he's hiding, but he keeps moving in a way you can't.

"Be patient, we need to get outside." Seungmin groans, but you can hear the playfulness in his voice.

"You know I don't like surprises-"

"No, you like to say you don't," He counters, and you feel the corners of your lips tug upward. "I know you better than that."

You exit the mall a few moments later, having only met there as a convenient spot between your two homes. Seungmin gestures you over to the emptier side of the parking lot wrapping around, and you spot a small picnic area set up; your heart skips a beat seeing the effort Seungmin has put into this.

"Min..." You run up to the picnic table, eyes gazing over the set up; there are small cakes and treats and your favourite takeout all organized on the wooden structure. You're about to speak again, but gasp instead when you turn and see what he's holding out.

Seungmin smiles at your reaction, holding your previously broken skateboard up with both hands. The wheel had broken from years of use, and you haven't had the time to go out and get it fixed, so it's been collecting dust in the corner of your room for weeks. To see that Seungmin went out of his way to have it fixed as a surprise for your anniversary date was enough to make you tear up.

Seeing your expression, Seungmin places the board on the ground and comes up to you, pulling you gently by the hands over to it. He knows how much you love to skate, how important this is for you, so he thought it'd be a nice surprise. He places a kiss on your temple, urging you to get on.

You spend the next thirty minutes or so going back and forth on the sidewalk by the table, stopping to have a few bites and talk to Seungmin. He stares at you as you head away from him again, his lips twitching up into a small smile when he sees how much you're enjoying yourself. When you turn around, you go a bit faster, wanting to get back to Seungmin quickly to give him his gift. You don't notice the way your board goes of on an angle, too excited.

"Baby, I have someth- woah!" You collide with the hard ground, cement scraping your arms as you tumble.

"Y/n!" Seungmin shoots out of his seat, kneeling next to you and helping you into a sitting position. "God, what the hell? Are you okay?"

"I fall and the first thing you say to me is 'what the hell'," You try and laugh, but your eyes are stinging with unshed tears at the pain in your forearms.

Seungmin lifts your arms to him, inhaling sharply at the bloody scrapes decorating your skin. Dropping your arms, he runs back to the table, grabbing his bag. You watch him with a confused look until you spot the small first aid kit in his open bag.

"Always prepared," You mumble, pouting. You really lucked out with Seungmin.

"With a partner as clumsy as you? Of course I am," He jokes, taking out some wipes.

His touch is light as he pats the wounds, looking up at you every so often to make sure you're alright. Although you're making faces every time the wipe comes in contact with your skin, at least you aren't close to crying anymore, now used to the slight burning sensation on your raw skin. Seungmin carefully places some large bandaids on the scrapes, kissing each one as he does; his care makes your heart ache.

"I'll pack up and we can head back to yours. I don't want you getting hurt again." Seungmin declares, standing and helping you back on your feet.

"What? No," You shake your head, grabbing Seungmin's hand before he can get much further. "I want to enjoy our date how it was meant to be. They're just a few bumps and bruises, nothing I can't handle."

Seungmin looks at you, and you can tell he doesn't want to do that. What he wants is to take care of you, wrap you up in a warm blanket and never let you go. After a moment, he sighs, and you can tell he's giving in to the look you're giving him.

"Fine, but on one condition." You wait for him to continue. "We go in and buy you some new knee pads and stuff. Then you let me pamper you when we get to yours."

"Kim Seungmin, are you admitting you care about me?" You laugh, poking his cheek; he swats your hand away softly.

"Never in your wildest dreams."

"I don't know, my dreams can get pretty wild... oh!" You run over to your bag, digging to the bottom to grab an envelop. "Your gift!"

Seungmin laughs at your sudden change in topic, eyeing the envelop. Inside are two tickets to see his favourite baseball team, and you can't wait to see the look on his face.

JEONGIN (wc: 862)

"Yes, I can see." Jeongin wraps his arm around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"Oh!" You're surprised a bit from the sudden appearance and affection of your boyfriend, but lean into him. "I wasn't expecting you to be here yet."

"I got out early. Let's go get the skates."

Jeongin keeps a hand on your back the whole way to the line up to retrieve the skates. Although you have your own, he still needs some, so you wait in line with him and catch up on your days. The whole time you're talking, you can't help but be a little stuck on his comment earlier, wondering if he was being serious, but you know neither of you like grand, public gestures like that.

The rink isn't incredibly busy for a Friday night, and you aren't complaining. It's easier to do and go where you want, colourful lights reflecting off the shiny ground. You look at Jeongin beside you, reds and blues and greens dancing over his sharp features; you're mesmerized.

Which is definitely what causes you to go crashing into the wall of the rink, losing your balance and falling backward. The back of your head smacks the hard ground, and you can feel tears stinging the corners of your eyes at the impact. Before you can really react, there are already gentle hands on your head trying to assess the damage. Your ears are ringing a bit, but you can hear your boyfriend's voice from above you and open your eyes, having squeezed them shut in pain.

"Y/n? Baby?" Jeongin's voice becomes clearer as he helps you sit up against the wall. "Say something, please. You're freaking me out."

"My head hurts," You whine, pouting and bringing your own hands to your head; you aren't bleeding, but there's sure to be a bump tomorrow.

"Yeah, I wonder why." Jeongin clears his throat, signaling some staff over. "We'll get you off the rink carefully, okay? You probably gave yourself a concussion or something."

It doesn't take long to get off the rink, and you let Jeongin take your skates off, too busy with holding your face in your hands to block the lights out. What you once saw as a beautiful, mood-setting atmosphere was now giving you the worst headache of your life. You keep a hand above your eyes as you leave, another attempt to block light while still being able to see where you're going.

Jeongin helps you into his car, driving you to the nearest hospital. Inside, you keep your eyes closed during the long wait, burying your head into Jeongin's shoulder. You're so grateful for him staying with you, the way his hand rubs up and down your arm bringing you comfort; movements reserved for you, and only you.

The doctor confirms you have a mild concussion, discussing the details of your rest and recover before sending you home. Once you get in, you collapse onto your couch with a groan of embarrassment.

"Want me to make you something?" You look up to see Jeongin setting his bag down and taking his coat off, giving him a confused look. "What? You really think I'm just going to drop you off at home, in pain, and dip?"

"You have things to do tomorrow-"

"Not anymore." Jeongin moves toward your kitchen. "Cancelled everything this week. I can't have you alone right now."

The casual tone of his voice has you melting, looking on at him with adoration in your eyes. You watch as he prepares you something, bringing over your favourite homemade comfort food. When he sets it down on the coffee table, you look up at him from where you're now curled up on the couch under a blanket.

"Would you hate me if I said I was too nauseous to eat right now?" You ask quietly, barely holding his gaze.

"Of course," Jeongin says with a smirk.

You reach out to smack him playfully, temporarily forgetting about your concussion and moving way too quickly. Grabbing onto the arm of the couch, you steady yourself from the wave of dizziness. Jeongin is instantly kneeling down and leaning you back, lightly scolding you as he does. A small smile forms on your face.

"You're lucky I love you," You giggle, looking at him with partially closed eyes.

"I am. I really am." Jeongin sighs, getting up to sit next to you.

Pulling him closer with your eyes closed, your hands brush the corner of something sticking out of his pocket, eyes instantly opening back up. You catch a glimpse of the corner of a red box before Jeongin begins bringing your blanket over him, but you stop him.

"You weren't kidding?" You look at him with wide eyes. It takes a moment to register what you're talking about, and then he begins to blush, hard.

"I wasn't."

"Jeongin-" He holds a finger to your lips to silence you.

"No, don't say anything. I want to wait until you're feeling better, okay?" You nod, and he leans in to kiss your cheek. "Now rest, baby. Need you healed up so I can do this the right way."

-

notes - HELP i actually don't know how to write anymore or smthn??? i'm so sorry if this is ass. me vs feeling insecure abt my writing ahahahahaha anyway. thank u for the request! i feel like maybe this didn't go the right direction sjdksk this is partially unedited too bc i kind of can't stand to reread my own writing so many times rn, so i apologize for any mistakes 🤡

─── taglist : @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @staysinbloom

[angelluv16]

Rumor Has it

✩: Kaia Jenner, the youngest Kardashian-Jenner, is an up-and-coming actress. When F1 driver Charles Leclerc casually calls her his favorite actress, the internet goes crazy. What starts as rumors turns into a whirlwind of drama, chemistry, and public scrutiny.

Part 3

faceclaim: Cindy Kimberly, girls from Pinterest

Want to be added to my taglist?: Click here

pairing: Charles Leclerc x Jenner!reader

request: no!!

warnings: Hate, fluff, Angst, Language,

previous part | Main Masterlist | next part

-------------------------✩-------------------------

I tossed my phone onto the couch beside me, but the stupid grin on my face wouldn’t budge. Charles freaking Leclerc just slid into my DMs. Well… kind of. It was just a dumb conversation about swimming, but still.

“You’re smiling at your phone,” Kim pointed out, not even looking up from her laptop. “Which means one of two things—either you just secured a bag, or you’re texting a guy.”

I rolled my eyes. “Maybe I’m just really excited about my new pool floaties.”

Khloé snorted. “Yeah, because that’s totally what makes you smile like that.” She turned her head to look at me, raising an eyebrow. “So? Spill. Who is it?”

“It’s no one.” I grabbed a pillow and hugged it to my chest, maybe a little too defensively.

Kylie smirked from across the room. “It’s someone.”

“It’s really not,” I tried again, avoiding their stares.

Kim finally looked up, narrowing her eyes. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Khloé gasped dramatically. “Wait—wait, wait, wait—this wouldn’t have anything to do with Charles Leclerc, would it?”

My stomach dropped. “What?��

Kylie’s eyes lit up like she just hit the jackpot. “Oh my God, it is!”

I groaned, burying my face in the pillow. “It’s not!” My voice came out muffled.

Khloé grabbed my phone off the couch before I could stop her. “Then you wouldn’t mind if I—”

“Khloé, I swear to God, give that back.” I reached for it, but she held it out of my grasp, laughing.

“Relax, I’m not actually gonna go through your DMs,” she said, tossing it back to me. “But the fact that you panicked says everything I need to know.”

I slumped back against the couch, huffing. “You guys are so annoying.”

Kim sipped her tea, looking far too smug. “So, when’s the wedding?”

I groaned again. “I hate all of you.”

Kylie grinned. “Yeah, yeah. Just make sure we get front-row seats.”

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by charlesleclerc, kendalljenner, francisca.cgomes, and 65,783,789 others

kaia.jenner: A week in my life, Waiting to finally get those lessons

view 14,114 comments

charlesleclerc: I already told you I'm free whenever

kaia.jenner: Alright Pretty boy I'll see you at my house for those lessons

username10: Damn Charles was faster then me wtf

username11: THE ONE DIRECTION SHIRT

username12: Who's ur favorite member??

kaia.jenner: I've been a zayn girl Since I was little.

francisca.cgomes: Gorgeous gorgeous

kaia.jenner: All you

kendalljenner: she's been Staring at her phone I think waiting for a text from you

username13: ahah Not kendall Outing her

username14: waiting to see "Charles leclerc was seen in LA" post from f1 gossip

username15: At this point, just show up at the track and demand them 💀

kaia.jenner: Not a bad idea 🤔🤔

username16: I just know Charles is sweating after seeing this

username17: She’s so desperate for attention, it’s embarrassing.

username18:Another rich nepo baby making everything a moment 🙄

username19: I fear you’ll be waiting longer than Ferrari waits to switch tire strategies 💀

username20: Kaia, if you don’t pull up to Monaco with floaties and DEMAND your lesson I will hunt you down.

username21: Just tell him Lando offered first and watch how fast he books a pool

lando: Yeah If you want I can teach you (pls don't run me over Charles)

charlesleclerc:😡😡😡

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

-------------------------✩-------------------------

Taglist: @anamiad00msday @Ale-522 @sarx164 @gottalovesae @meadhbhcavanagh @fulla02 @fanficfanatic77 @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @golden-hoax @poolclaws @Hadidsworld @perfectmenarefictional @lottalove4evelyn @edgyficuselastica @nebarious @mbioooo0000 @fanny2811 @greantii @norstappenvibes @mary-op81

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[piastappies]

🔮 OPPOSITES ATTRACT

synopsis. a quiet slytherin and a loud gryffindor find themselves on a chilly evening, which results in something unexpected — at least for people around them. the oldest weasley’s daughter finds herself infatuated with nott’s only child and vice versa, even if their worlds seem so different, being apart just doesn’t feel right.

notes. theodore nott x weasley!reader. slightly sunshine x grumpy (pretend you’re a ginger if ur not). part 2 containing the date, thoughts?

theodore nott never thought he would be given a chance to love and be loved, upon all the terrible mistakes he has made. and maybe it seemed silly for a sixteen years old to say, but with an upcoming war, he wasn’t so sure if he could live through it.

theodore nott never thought he would have someone to call his own, someone to help him, when times get tough or someone who would understand him wordlessly. to be fair, theodore nott never thought he deserved anything like that, so the surprise on his face, when he found someone who was involuntarily willing to be his person was enormous.

he was walking around the crowded streets of the city, the dim lighting allowing him to see muggles running around with different expression on every other face he has passed — some of them were happy, cheering the slowly creeping holiday on them, some of them were exhausted and/or angry, probably from trying to find a perfect gift for someone and failing. just watching them gave him some sort of comfort, he had never had to look for gifts too much, his father wasn’t keen on being all festive and christmas was just any other day. the exception itself was looking for presents for his friends, which never had troubled him so much he looked exhausted.

he was in his thoughts, when he felt like he collided with someone. his eyebrows were squinted as he looked down on the red-haired girl, whose face was all red, either from cold or embarrassment. though, there was something so familiar about the girl that made him study her face for a brief second, the tea stain on his unzipped jacket didn’t seem to bother him at all, not as much as the familiarity of the girl.

“oh my god, i am so sorry, sir.” she let out ashamed that she didn’t look where she was going and that she probably ruined someone’s evening with her no sugar, lemon tea. it was then, when the familiar girl finally gave up and looked at the person she rudely bumped into.

“nott?” her words weren’t coated with layers of disgust and regret that out of all the people in london that night, she bumped into theodore nott. her words had surprised and confused undertones, almost as if she didn’t mind seeing him there. now, he obviously recognized his attacker — y/n weasley, a girl he sits behind in history of magic, a twin sister of potter’s best friend, someone who should hate him with burning passion.

“are you alright?” redhead’s question took him off guard.

theo was expecting something else, like a mockery of the fact that he was walking amongst muggles without hexing them all. though to be honest, theodore never hated muggles, well, yeah, he said some stupid shit, when he was younger and he was far from proud, but it was the need to appease his father. he definitely didn’t expect to see the worried manner in her, her brows scrunched as she tried to read his emotions, while standing in front of him in silence.

“theo…?” repeated y/n. he wasn’t alright and he didn’t know if he should show it. for merlin’s sake, he really wanted to get so much things out of his system, but venting to a weasley? he knew better than that — she would probably go around, and spread out the word about everything she heard from him.

nott was about to mumble something in response, when her eyes flickered with concern, demolishing all his justification why shouldn’t he talk to her for longer than needed. she was genuine, not caring that ron and harry weren’t on a good terms with him, she wanted to know, and help if possible.

so, theo simply gave up the act. “uh, no. not really.” he confessed, confirming all the suspicions she got to gather from observing him for a few minutes, when he thought of an answer. her expression changed from concerned to slightly sad, even.

before the boy could realize, he was sat in one of the small coffee shops beside her, a half empty, steamy cup of hot chocolate in his hands as they talked. something was so incredibly off about the way they conversed, first time in a while, he never wanted to conversation to end, just like when he was talking to his friends. his body itched at the thought that soon both of them would have to come to their respective houses and the talk would be just a memory that never happened again.

he had to admit that y/n’s presence was soothing. it was like the smell of a freshly printed new book, a cigarette on a foggy morning, a sensation of someone’s nails gently scratching the inside of his palm. the last one was a habit his mom developed to calm him down before she died, leaving him with an aching need for someone to find out about his perk and do it when he needs.

her muffled laughter filled his ears as he watched the girl cover her lips with a palm, he couldn’t help but smile. the gloomy atmosphere that he brought with his tiny vent was long gone, since she declared it her mission to make him feel better. so, since he wasn’t a big talker himself, she let him listen to all the stories from when she was growing up. even though he never experienced a family like hers, a family that cared for each other, it was comforting.

his eyes darted to the clock hung up on a wall, followed by hers and a long sigh that left his lips. his fingers ran through his curls as he parted his lips to bid goodbyes, though y/n was faster. “we could meet up here some other time, if you want.” she gave him a shy smile, the one he never thought he would see on her face.

y/n weasley wasn’t the shy type of girl, she was a big talker, a smart-ass with witty comebacks and a obnoxiously loud aura coating her small frame, though right now, upon his gaze that wandered around her face for quite some time now, she grew shyer.

“uh.” stuttered theo. “yeah, i guess it’s a good idea.” his reply made her smile go bigger, and in the back of his head, it felt like a reward for the decision he just made, some kind of reassurance that he did something good.

“perfect.” she grinned, taking the two of their cups and taking them to the shop’s kitchen, revealing that either she works there, or she’s just insanely crazy for barging into someone’s workplace as an unwanted stranger. “there’s a fireplace in the back.” weasley added, taking his hand in hers before he could even refuse (he wouldn’t though).

the tips of her long nails gently grazed his palm, when she led him the back, greeting a few of her coworkers. her touch on his skin ached, almost burnt, although if that’s what the insides of a normal, fireplace without floo powder felt like, he could grow to like it, only if a part of her body was pressed against his. few minutes later theo’s hand felt empty as he watched her disappear in green flames, having bid their goodbyes.

***

theo hated that feeling. this warm, strange feeling that coated his heart whenever he thought about the obnoxious gryffindor, who he met at those muggle streets. nevertheless, he found himself unable to think about someone else. he was replying to a letter pansy has sent him, and the only thing he had on his mind was y/n, he wondered if ginny told her about her little getaways with theo’s best friend, if all her brothers got back to their house, and — if she thought about him.

his hands throbbed. his fingers wrapped tightly around the quill, before putting it down on his deck. why on earth would he text her? it was one accidental meeting at some crowded street, one conversation that shouldn’t mean anything to them.

nott squeezed his eyes, the muscles on his face tensed as he focused on the paper in front of him, scribbling down a few words in his neat handwriting. a long sigh has left his lips, his eyes tracing the sentence he wrote for her. shit, why would he even do that? if any of his friends knew, he’d have been doomed — one weasley hanging around their friend group was enough, but he didn’t want to push draco nor blaise’s limits.

on a christmas’ eve, he went out for another walk, slightly hoping in the back of his mind that he’d accidentally bump into her again. this time, theodore would make sure to hear her laugh more often, to see her teeth, when she smiles or to watch as she gets shyer upon his gaze on her face.

his feet got him into a familiar looking café, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion — he couldn’t pinpoint from where he knew the place — and looked around. then, he heard it.

“theo!” a female voice rang in his ears. the boy turned his face, a smile slipping onto his lips as he realized where he was. the god damned café y/n was working at. “what can i get you?” a grin spread across her face, visibly delighted to see him there, almost as if she hoped for it.

her forearms laid on the counter as her body leaned a little closer, her hair pinned up in a ponytail that probably got ruined during her shift from running around the place, having a chat with each customer every now and then, a pinkish tint on her cheeks, maybe from the heat in the back or maybe, because he was there.

it took him a second to realize that he was staring with his mouth slightly parted. “uh—” he stuttered, getting a small, barely audiable giggle in response. “i just came to see you.” he blurted out. thank god his ears were covered by the beanie, because just by saying those six words got him all flustered.

“theo.” his name sounded so well coming from her. theodore wanted to hear it again, again, and again. it was melodic, like most beautiful song he’s ever heared. how could he get so whipped after one hangout?

“i hoped you’d come by.” she confessed shyly. “i have something for you in the back, could you give me five minutes? i gotta tell the manager i’m taking a break.” she beamed at him sweetly, rushing off to the back, taking off the green apron that hung on her waist in the meantime.

when she came back, she was still wearing the café’s shirt with a small, green logo, black jeans, and was carefully walking towards his table with a neatly wrapped package and on a top of that a plate with a big piece of some sort of chocolate cake, two drinks (the same as last time), and a cookie. her hair wasn’t in a ponytail anymore, ginger strands falling into her shoulders as she gave him the sweetest smile he’d ever seen.

“you– you got me something?” a question left theo’s mouth, leaving him all surprised — the strange feeling warming him up from the inside. he took a big sip of the hot chocolate in front of him, hardly minding that he burnt his tongue, he didn’t want to say anything stupid. “y/n, we talked once and you… got me something?” he asked once again, not believing his own eyes.

the girl just smiled wider, passing the box towards him. “uh. yeah.” she answered, shrugging. “last time, you said that you never really celebrated christmas the right way, so… please open it.” she tried explaing herself, but gave up at the end, pushing the box further with her fingertips. “please?”

shit.

if she didn’t ask, if she didn’t give him those eyes and that smile. maybe he would be able to refuse, think of some lame excuse that wouldn’t hurt her feelings and give her the box back. but y/n was so sweet, and thought of him hard enough to prepare him a gift.

for half a second, theodore could see something flicker in her eyes, when his lean fingers gently pulled the green ribbon, ripping the gift paper afterwards. the gift turned out to be a sweater, a hand-made one that made the feeling come back to him.

the sweater was dark green, in the similar shade of his tie or the snake symbol on his robes, it had a large, dark blue letter T with a silver outline. his eyes scanned the piece of clothing, the corner of his lips going slightly upwards. “you got me your mom’s iconic sweater?” asked theo.

his mind was filled with different thoughts and emotions right now. he could never call y/n weasley a sweet girl, not because it wasn’t true, but because it would be an understatement — she was the sweetest, or at least somewhere in that range. his cheeks almost hurt from smiling at her, and never in his life nott had felt it.

“actually…” her cheeks started getting a little more pinkish than usual. “it’s based on my mom’s sweaters, i did it on my own. it might not be perfect—" y/n started rambling in nervousness, afraid that the boy won’t be happy about getting a meaningless piece of fabric from her.

“y/n, i love it.” theodore’s words were like honey to y/n’s ears, she gave him a small smile, not really expecting him to gently grab her hand out of sudden. the reason behind it? even theo didn’t know (probably to ease her nerves).

when he realized what he did, he wanted to take his hand back and mutter a quiet apology, the crime scene awkward as much as only possible. although, from the corner of his eye, he noticed that the pink on her face intensified, few more minutes of skin-to-skin contact, and she would turn into a tomato, so his hand stayed on hers, taking the chance and intertwining their fingers together.

“would you– uh,” the redhead started, stumbling over her own words, easily losing focus, each time his thumb stroked her hand, a tiny smirk hovering over his lips. “like to, uh, come here once in a while, you know… until the break’s over? keep me company, maybe?”

and he did. how couldn’t he? this girl was constantly on his mind ever since she bumped into him on the streets and spent literal hours at the café.

although, beside just keeping her company during the winter break — but also at school. he grew so fond of her (and believe me, it worked both ways) that cutting their fresh friendship short was something he couldn’t let happen. so… even though her younger sister was already swaying her way into theodore’s friend group, y/n seemed like a different topic.

theodore nott liked sharing. as unbelievable as it sounds, he really did. whenever he had something he enjoyed, he was willing to share, he was the type of person to give away his last cigarette to one of his friends, but the thought of sharing y/n weasley never crossed his mind. he wanted her all to himself, so… their hangouts always contained just the two of them.

small study dates in the library, late night walks around the courtyard, meet-ups in the room of requirement, picnics in the astronomy tower, while smoking some pot and cigarettes together.

back then, it felt strictly platonic. even if they called it their little dates, nott had a feeling they weren’t moving past the friendship line, while his emotions towards the girl were getting more and more serious. nevertheless, theodore was confident, but not confident enough to ask her out — to confess his silly crush without the fear creeping up on him that y/n would reject him and turn his dreams into nightmares.

***

the weather outside was getting better with each day until spending time inside the castle was unbearable. it was around the time, theo decided to finally push his luck and ask the girl of his dream out. ever since he woke up, he was nervously fidgeting with everything that got to his hands and when then classes were to start, it only got worse.

“you alright, theo?” a whisper left y/n’s mouth as she stood next to him in potions, her elbow nudging him lightly, trying to catch his attention.

merlin. the way his name sounded so wonderful on her tongue. if it wasn’t for the small attention-grabber, he would definitely accidentally ignore the question to daydream about how sweetly her voice is.

“no, i mean– yes, yes i am.” he stuttered. “i just– can i ask you a question?” she nodded, making his stomach turn around. “would you, uh– like to go out to hogsmeade with me? like on a date?” the question left his lips.

his throat went dry as he waited years for an answer (which was actually just about two seconds, theo’s brain just got really dramatic from stress), legs giving up, so he had to lean his palms on the table.

“f’course.” weasley grinned, not minding the blush that spread all over her face, just from the ask. “i thought you’d never ask, really.” she giggled, turning her eyes away for a second, before flashing him another beam of hers.

nott’s face was now bright pink. “i– what?” he was struggling to form a logical sentence. “you wanted me to–?” the boy was supposed to finish his thought, though it didn’t really sit well with snape who interrupted their little talk, postponing it until the evening.

the two of them were walking somewhere outside, laughing about something so insignificant, when the situation from classes popped into his mind. “so… about that date. you really want to?” asked nott.

he expected any kind of answer — yes, no, maybe, you should guess, nah — whatever was only possible. however, the feeling of her lips on his wouldn’t cross his mind. she kissed him. y/n has kissed him, leaving him breathless, when she pulled away.

“does that answer your question?” redhead chuckled, her fingers still curled up against the collar of his white shirt. he shook his head, still mind-blown. “yes, theodore faustus nott, i was dying to hear you ask me out on a date. whatever we have between us, i wanted it to move forward and go on a date with you.”

she laughed. “you really think i’d spend hours crotcheting a sweater for a guy i met few days earlier if i didn’t feel something? theo, i almost passed out when you touched my hand months ago.” another laugh left her lips that were now so close to his, clouding his mind with one certain thing.

upon hearing all those words, the boy couldn’t stop himself anymore, he pressed his mouth against hers, savouring the moment. cherishing the fact that she wanted him like he wanted her.

“the date is still a thing, yeah?” y/n smiled as her nose brushed his.

“you’re gonna love it.” he answered, grinning.

[feyascorner]

okay first of all i ADORE ur writing… wanna take a bite out of it..

anyway… uh… can i uhh… order a uhh…. astarion x tav.. and like..tav has a fucking insane pain tolerance and always has.. and like… uhh… one time she gets fucking TOTALED in a fight and like obvi it would hurt… and shes like crying subconsciously.. and when some1 points it out shes like “what???? why am i crying wtf???” and like looks down and is just fucking BLEEDING… n then.. astarion comfort…

only if u want thoo!!!!

a/n. Im like the exact opposite I'm very dramatic about the slightest pain but this is such a cute request so Ty!! ALSO PLS EXCUSE IF THIS IS A LITTLE CLUNKY I HAD TO TYPE THIS OUT W MY FINGERS🫠🫠

Astarion is grateful for your tolerance to pain.

Of course, he doesn't particularly enjoy watching you in pain, but he’s no fool. He knows the sting and the soreness that comes after he drinks from your neck. Well, at least, it should sting. However, it never seemed to bother you, and for that, he's forever grateful for it.

These strange sentiments expand past his thirst for blood, as the relief he feels when you’re battered up after a battle and you smile at him as if nothing’s wrong is incomparable to any other feeling he’s felt.

That relief does not come currently, however.

The battle was nearly hopeless. Overwhelmed in number, mages casting counterspell, fighters constantly aiming at you…he’s lost track of it all. By some miracle you and your companions stand victorious, and when he sees that you offer Karlach a lopsided smile, confirming that you're fine, he reaches to pick up one of his daggers.

“Tav—what in the hells, are you okay?”

It’s then that he spots the way your lip quivers and tears glisten threateningly at your eyes. And when you meet his own, they begin to drip down your cheeks like crystals and roll off your chin. He's seen you in tears before, but out of something more positive—not from pain. Before he can even tell what he's doing, he's rushing toward you.

“Why are you—” he sees the blood seeping from your stomach, and his face would've gone pale if he could.

You finally lift your hands to your face, eyes wide when your fingertips brush against the dampness of your cheeks. “Oh. Why am I?…”

Shadowheart scrambles to scrimmage around her bag. “Here, let me—gods, where did I—did we use all the healing potions?—”

“Oh for hells sake. Because you're bleeding!” Astarion hisses, his hand intertwining with yours as he drags you toward the nearest tree where he sits you down. He freezes when you flinch but you shake your head, wiping at your eyes. Your other companions are still searching the enemy corpses for anything that might relieve you of the pain, but they're taking far too long for his liking.

“I’m okay, it doesn't really hurt that much.”

“You’re crying.”

“I didn't even know I was-” you wince.

His eyes narrow. “Lay down.”

“What? No, I’m really fine!”

“Gods, love, please for once, listen to me. It’s quite straining to watch you clamber around with that ghastly wound on your stomach.”

You frown, but he guides you down anyway, careful to lay down your head against the grass. “Now wait patiently. Maybe if we’re lucky, our dear friends will find a potion before I start developing wrinkles.”

A momentary silence hangs in the air. It’s by no means uncomfortable, but there are words on the tip of his tongue he wishes to say. And when he notices you staring, he sighs.

“If you're hurt, tell us. I don't care how high your pain tolerance is—if you're hurt, call us. Call me. Don't be a fool and bleed out over a few enemies when we’ve been through so much worse.”

The sincerity in his voice is almost embarrassing. But with the way you're watching him so seriously, he can't bring himself to dwell on such irrelevant factors.

Then, you smile again, as if you've forgotten about the pain. “How minor can the pain be for me to call you?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Can I call you when I stub a toe?”

“Absolutely not.”

“I will.”

He stares at you with lidded eyes and you laugh. He feels the weight on his shoulders get a bit lighter.

“You may call for me whenever you wish.”

[ode2cheol]

CHAPTER ? HHU ! : CONFESSIONS

fluff, gn!reader

SEUNGCHEOL

he’d probably wait a while for u to confess first ngl

mainly bc he gets shy and embarrassed doing anything

but after a while of neither of u confessing he’d get annoyed and would recruit help (jeonghan and joshua)

“jeonghan said you were having a breakdown is everything alright?” “no i- what exactly did that idiot tell you?” seungcheol stared at you for a few seconds, breath hitching at your appearance. he just thought you were so, “pretty” he mumbled, thinking you wouldn’t hear. “what was that, cheol?” “nothing! uh listen” he started bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck, “do you maybe want to go out for dinner sometime? just the two of us?”

WONWOO

he’d probably come up w some big elaborate plan to do it

like he’s got big plans to make it so romantic so u can tell ur grandkids about it

but like lowk flops it when he actually sees u bc he’s nervous

“is something up wonwoo?” you asked confused at why he suddenly asked to meet you. “no i- uh- just wanted to ask you something?” wonwoo stared at you for a few seconds, brain short circuiting and forgetting what he planned to say. you continued on to look at him, shifting awkwardly at his silence before suggesting to meet again later. “no! wait- please?” he sighed, “i planned this a lot better in my head but i’ve been meaning to ask you on a date for a while now.. what do you say?”

MINGYU

wants to make a big deal of it like wonwoo

but he succeeds (surprisingly)

acts smug to his friends later but is so giddy

“yn, someone left these at your desk” your office neighbour seungkwan told you. you looked at your desk to see a bouquet of roses lying on it. you spotted the note attached to it, ‘call this number if u wanna go on a date later !!!! <3’ looking around for a few seconds, you spotted your coworker mingyu with a boyish grin as he watched you connect the roses and note to him. you shot him a smile before texting the number a ‘i’d love to <3’ and watching his grin grow softer

VERNON

the only one who approaches this normally

he likes you = he asks you out and hopefully u like him back

he doesn’t really see the point in waiting too long or making a huge deal out of it in case you might find it uncomfortable

“oh- yn wait up!” you heard your classmate call out after your lecture was over. “oh hey!” you smiled at him warmly, “did you want to talk about something?” “yeah actually, just wondering if you wanted to go out sometime?” vernon smiled softly, grinning wide when you said yes in your slightly flustered state, “great! there’s a movie playing this weekend and we can grab dinner after, on me!”

[inkedells]

hear me out: dbf!joel railing u on a bed full of plushies HEKSHDKS <3 maybe ur clutching or biting onto one and he's just cooing at u calling u a good girl HEHE

ok don't mind me popping my mf pussy w this drabble (ALSO YES THIS IS THE DBF!JOEL REQUEST THAT DROVE ME CRAZY YALL)

summary/bg info: coming home from college for winter break and acting on the sexual tension that exists between you and your dad’s best friend, joel--while finding extra comfort in your childhood plushies.

words: ~700

mdni! | requests open but responses not guaranteed.

“God, you’re a fuckin’ shy little thing, aren’t you?”

Your mouth only gaped open around a silent moan as your back arched against your childhood bed. You weren’t sure how it ended up in your hands, but you were clutching your favorite plushie, a brown bear with matted curly fur, as Joel continued his ministrations against your clit. The sight of the waistband of your sleep shorts stretched around his wrist was intoxicating, and so was the way his hand moved from underneath the thin cover of its fabric.

“Joel,” you whined, biting your lip as your hips grinded against his hand.

“Mm, that’s right. Only I know how to take care of this pretty pussy. Go ahead, sweetheart, hug your stuffies. I know you wanna.”

You hummed at that, nodding enthusiastically. Your breathing uneven and frantic from arousal, you lazily gathered the plushies surrounding you in your arms as Joel manhandled you until your ass was in the air and your cheek was pressed against the numerous stuffed toys cradled in your arms.

“Now listen here, baby girl. You’re gonna let me fuck this,” He paused to trail a finger along your seam through the fabric of your shorts, as if to make clear exactly what “this” was referring to, “And all you gotta do is keep making those pretty noises and cuddling your little toys, yeah?”

You whined high in your throat in confirmation as Joel slipped his hands underneath the hem of your shorts to palm your ass. 

“Not good enough,” He tsked, still massaging circles into your plump flesh, “Repeat it back to me.”

You swallowed, a blush creeping up on the apples of your cheeks as you clutch handfuls of stuffies. “You’re gonna… fuck… me—”

“—Fuck what?”

You groaned, turning to bury your face in the pile of stuffed toys beneath you. “My pussy,” You mumbled. You were positive your face was already beet red from embarrassment.

“Didn’t quite catch that,” He teased. You knew fully well he heard you, but indulging him in this manner was only making the heat between your legs grow hungrier, so you complied.

“You’re gonna fuck my pussy,” You said clearly, “And I’m—I’m gonna cuddle my stuffies while you use it.”

Satisfied with your response, Joel tugged your shorts down until you felt cool air hitting your pussy. Not for long, though, because soon the radiating heat of Joel’s cock was taking over as he swept his weeping tip through your folds.

“Gonna put it in now, ‘kay baby girl?” He voiced in that gravelly low rumble, and although he posed it as a question, you were smart enough to recognize it as a warning for the inevitable. Joel didn’t bother properly stretching you out, he wanted it tight so it would swallow him up just the way he wanted.

He slammed into you, ripping a coarse moan from your throat before the pain of the stretch became too much and you bit down on one of the stuffies in order to stave off a scream.

“Aww,” He mocked, “Is it hurting you, sweetheart?”

“So… big,” You managed to get out, eyes droopy and your brain completely mush as he pistoned in and out of your inviting heat, “Too… big…”

“Oh, fuck,” He groaned to himself, “You really are stretched. Fucking ruined you.” His breathing intensified as he lightly traced where you and him met with his fingers, clearly aroused by the contrast between your tight little cunt and the way his huge cock is forcibly stretching it open. His feathery touches combined with his abrupt, punishing thrusts had you pushing your ass back even further against his front, craving the abusive jerking of his hips.

Joel breathed an amused laugh at that. “Actually, it seems like it’s just the right amount of big if it’s got you pushing back for more. You like it painful, huh?”

“F-Fuck, Joel, yeah. Yeah, I love it painful. God, please, fill me up Joel. Your cum, I want it, please.”

Joel faked a wince at your words. “Looks like the innocent little girl’s suddenly got a mouth on her. That happen a lot? Does cock tend to get you dirty mouthed?”

With your cheek pressed into one of your stuffies, you peered up at him from the corner of your eye as you breathed the words, “Just yours.” It was only barely loud enough for him to hear it over the wet sounds of him fucking into your dripping pussy. In fact, you weren't even sure if he had heard you until a hint of a smile crossed his face and he told you in that warm, rumbly rasp, "Mm, I know. Because you're my good girl," with every proceeding thrust reeking of pride.

see my masterlist here

A/N: may or may not do a permanent taglist? not sure yet, just depends on the demand for it soooo maybe let me know in my asks if you want to be on a *possible* taglist for my fics (i only rlly write joel).

anyway thank you all for the support for this blog and my fics!!! truly love you all, and def don't be afraid to reach out and say hello, i need more mutuals whether you're a writer or not!!

taglist for this fic: @777-wonders , @scarlettstarlettsarletts , @pedrosbabygirl , @deathsholywaterr , @devilmademewriteit

[luveline]

hi jade !! this is me resending my hotch request bc of ur recent post 🤍 i sent the one about hotch taking care of bau!reader who has a really bad stomachache, thanks so much, i think you’re amazing 💞💞💞

thank you for requesting angel! fem

You do this sad thing with your hands when you're in pain. Aaron wishes he didn't know your tell, that he'd never had reason to understand it, but he does. Your fingers, in particular your pinky, curl toward your palm frenetically, and he has an ample view of your closed off face in the chair opposite. He can pin the moment he knows you're in pain down to the minute twitch of your lip. 

He peeks at Morgan where he lays on the couch before leaning across the table to touch your arm. The jet offers little privacy, so Aaron tries to be delicate. 

“L/N? Are you alright?” 

“Mm,” you hum, too high-pitched to have come out the way you meant it. 

“What's wrong?” 

“Nothing.” You say this, and yet you can't open your eyes, leaning less than subtly away from him as though your pain is catching.

Aaron keeps his head down as he stands so as not to attract attention. You've sat near the wall, leaving an empty seat for him to sit in. “Hey,” he says, touching the crook of your elbow, wanting to fix it, soothe the twitch from your hand, “you're in pain.” 

“It's nothing.” 

“Saying it won't necessarily make it true,” he says. 

“It felt worth trying.” 

He is genuinely perturbed to see you in pain like this without explanation. “You have to tell me what's wrong.” 

“Hotch, I…” you say, your voice wrought with embarrassment as you open your eyes, “it's just my stomach hurts. That's all.” 

“Sharp pains?” 

“Just hurts. Nothing dire.” 

“How do you know?” he asks. 

“Happens sometimes.” 

He puts his arm around you, careful not to jostle your back. You're tense as a rubber band about to snap. It's unlike you to be the more rigid of the two of you, less foreign for Hotch to have softened, especially when it's you. “How often?” he asks, wary of the tears brimming like silver at the corners of your eyes. 

“Just sometimes, I don't know.” You speak in a concise, panicked tenor. 

In this line of work, it could be anything. Not eating enough, not having time to stop for breath. You could be thirsty, sick, anxious, stressed into pain. It could be purely psychosomatic or you could be injured. He can't remember you taking any blows during the last few days away. It could be your period. You might not want to mention that. 

“Y/N,” he says, falling out of boss mode now he's sure it's not going to kill you, and into someone who cares for you, “what can I do?” 

You shudder a breath, slouched under his touch. “It's not that bad.” 

It's clearly a shocking amount of pain. Your shuddering worsens as he pulls you into his side. He's prepared to sit with you until you can give him better instructions, or until the pain passes, or, God forbid, things get worse. “I'm here,” he says, rubbing your arm gently. “Try to breathe.” 

He's wondering why you might think this amount of pain is normal, or acceptable. Wondering why he shouldn't just call for medical assistance here and now, but then you start to come around, your face shining with perspiration. “Oh,” you sigh, wiping your face with your sleeve, leaning into your hand, hiding. 

“Is it getting better?” he asks. 

“I think it's anxiety or something.” Your breath slips out in disjointed huffs. 

He can't guess what it is. Have you been to the doctor? he wants to ask, but perhaps in a moment, when you're steady in yourself again. “From the jet?” 

“No. Maybe.” You frown. 

“Jack doesn't understand that I'm on a plane.” 

You lift your gaze in confusion. Aaron moves onwards.

“He doesn't understand that this is a plane. I brought him by, once, to try to explain why I can't always answer the phone. It's thick metal, you know?” It was an easier explanation than having no signal in the sky. “But he didn't get that it was something that could move. I had to take him to the airport. We watched…” He slows as your eyes meet his completely. “We watched them take off for hours. Now he doesn't get so angry when I don't answer.” 

“Jack was angry?” you ask, half incredulous. 

“A bit.” He tries to string the story together before you can realise what it is he's doing, his arm curling around your from behind, fingers making the most tenuous of circles into the very side of your stomach. A barely there sort of comfort. “It's not like him. He reminds me of his mom when he's angry.” 

Your smile is a physical relief to see. “Does he have tantrums?” 

“Doesn't every kid?” 

You talk about Jack in dulcet tones while he tries to keep the pain at bay, his arm steadfast behind you, your faces closer than they have any platonic business being. He'll pester you into doctors appointments when you touch down, but for now, he just holds you and talks to you like everything is normal. 

You cover his hand with yours when the pain starts anew, talking through it, pain in the soft line of your bottom lip. 

“Am I hurting you?” he asks. You give him a weak smile. He feels awful, but it makes his heart race. So close, and so pretty, and so upset. “Is there anything I can do?” 

An embarrassing amount of weight lies in ‘anything’. You shake your head, whispering, “Nothing. This is enough.” 

Aaron pulls you in closer and wraps both of his arms around you, hiding you from the others, an aimless attempt to protect you from a pain he can't touch. Someone puts a cup of tea on the table for you, but otherwise you're left alone for the rest of the flight.