#skye!

"what is it?" you ask and he only pouts more in response.

"you didn't kiss me back or say i love you in the morning, that's a crime", he sulks adorably and you stifle the urge to chuckle at his words and behaviour.

you cup his face and kiss his cheek and shower his face with soft kisses until he's grinning and smiling again, the indentation of his dimple peeking, making you smile.

SKYE IM MELTING AAAAAAAAAAAAAA UR SO RIGHT he would SO SO get sulky and pouty at the smallest things :(( like where you don't hold his hand while you're walking together on a date, and when you eventually do, he makes sure you DON'T let go for the rest of the day. he just loves the feeling of your hand (or specifically, just you in general) touching him in some way :(

"you have to hold my hand when we're out together. it's a rule," he says cheekily, which makes you roll your eyes.

--

or when you do that trend calling your partner by their full first name and we all know that HE HATES when people do that 😭

"seungcheol, can you pass me my phone? my hands are all wet right now."

and he would just stare at you as if you committed some sort of crime, pouting while on the way to approach back with your phone in his hands. when you dry your hands and turn back to him with a grateful look, it's not hard at all to miss the sulkiness plaguing his features.

"did i do something wrong?" he asks.

you peer at up quizzically. "what do you mean?"

"you called me seungcheol--"

"isn't that your name?" oh, he can tell you're teasing him now from the faint smirk stretching across your lips. "choi seungcheol..."

"baby," he coos lightly, stepping up against you with his hands landing on your hips firmly. "it's baby, sweetheart, love, or even just cheol..."

could you please write about svt taking care of you after you broke your dominant arm :3 (jeonghan, hoshi, the8, dino ..) thank you!!!!♡

hi! here you go!

jeonghan: he'd lightly scold you for being reckless that you'd ended up getting hurt and fracturing your arm but you knew he was coming from a space of concern. he'd first sigh your cast hshs. he'd tell you to video call him every day since you couldn't really text now. would cheekily ask if you needed help getting changed, earning a whack from you while he chuckles at how your face turns red hshs.

hoshi: he'd be so :( and take care of you. he'd baby you so much tbh. when you called him and told him you fractured your arm, he was so worried and so pouty upon seeing your hand in a cast. he'd cook for you and even try and insist on feeding you if he even saw you struggling for two seconds. you'd wake up to find new doodles or messages scribbled on your cast every morning. i feel like he'd just cover your cast in tiger doodles or do tiger stripes or something 😭

minghao: he would be another gentle soul with you, making sure you kept your cast hand safe and didn't knock it anywhere. he'd not let you carry anything even if you insisted you could and he didn't need to go that far, that you could still do some stuff but he'd insist.

Number 3. "Make Me. With your lovely Lams if you wouldn't mind!

Thanks for the ask Skye! And of course, I could do lams for ya! Drop me an ask from the prompts with your favorite amrev ship (it can be any ship) and I'll do my best to answer them!

***

It's late at night when Lieutenant Coloel John Laurens retires for the evening. The rest of the aides have already gone up to bed besides Meade and Tilghman who still works along side Colonel Alexander Hamilton at the table. Laurens yawns rather loudly though he tries to stifle it with the back of his hand but unfortunately, that doesn't work. Laurens shifts the papers in front of him into a neat stack, feeling his eyes grow heavy. He dabs the remaining ink from the tip of his quill against the ink pot before closing the ink pot and setting his quill down. Hamilton notices this and arches an eyebrow, smiling slowly.

"Retiring already?" Hamilton asks.

"Yes, unfortunately," Laurens huffs. "As much as I'd like to try to finish these corrospondences before the morning's dispatch, my body is telling me to I should rest." He glances at Hamilton. "And so should you."

Hamilton scoffs, rolling his eyes affectionately, waving his hand in a pshh motion. "I can work a few more hours. I'll be fine. Don't you worry about me, Laurens."

Laurens stands from his chair, walking around it to push it back into the table and crosses his arms over his chest. He tips his head towards his chest and raises an eyebrow--his expression remanding.

"It's my job to worry about you, Hamilton. And the last time you overworked yourself, you had fallen ill. And I don't want that to happen again."

"It won't," Hamilton assures him, shifting around in his chair to face Laurens and draping his arm over the back of his chair.

"You can't be sure about that," Laurens huffs, keeping his eyes transfixed upon Hamilton's, staring deep into that dark blue--a dangerous sea right before him.

Hamilton gives him a look over his shoulder in which Laurens cannot quite read. “It happened once, John. There’s no need to fret.” 

Laurens huffs and purses his lips together as he crosses his arms over his chest. Meade and Tilghman glance at each other before turning back to face the front, watching the two with fond looks and small smiles, rather enjoying themselves as they watch Laurens and Hamilton bicker. 

“Alexander,” Laurens says. “You’re going to overwork yourself.” 

“And?” 

“And I’ve told you. You’ll make yourself ill by doing so.” 

“John, please. Spare me the lecture,” Hamilton groans. 

“I will if you come to bed!” Laurens snaps. 

Hamilton smirks slowly and wiggles his eyebrows teasingly with his arms over each other on top of the table. “Make me.” 

The corners of Laurens’s lips quirk upward slyly and his face looks smug. “Alright. If you insist.” 

Hamilton’s teasing grin fades into a frown as Laurens marches up towards him. He yanks Hamilton’s chair back sharply, causing Meade and Tilghman to both look up with surprise. Laurens grins he loops both arms around Hamilton’s waist and scoops him up from the chair, flipping Hamilton over his shoulder. Hamilton squeals with surprise and grunts as he thrashes around, pounding Laurens’s back as he trudges up the stairs to their bedroom. 

“John! Put me down!” Hamilton grunts with clenched teeth, pounding Laurens’s back. 

“No,” Laurens says. “You said make me. So, I did. It’s time for bed.” 

“This is so unfair! How come Meade and Tilghman get to stay up! I’m not a child, Laurens!” Hamilton huffs and crosses his arms, his bottom lip puckering out slightly. 

“Because they actually have proper sleeping habits and schedules and they actually go to bed. Unlike you.” 

“I hate you,” Hamilton grumbles over Laurens’s shoulder.