#I used to like being sick as an excuse to rest

[beah388love]

Double Trouble

Full Masterlist Lando Masterlist

Pairing: Dad!Lando x Fem!Reader

Summary: The twins first Grand Prix and their first time on a plane

Warnings: Swearing,mentions of sick (if I’ve missed any please tell me!!)

“Lan…! Lan..!” You said as you poked his sleeping form, he looked so cute and comfy but you had to wake him up since you had to get to the airport in exactly three hours. “Lando!” You said loudly as you shoved him and he turned his face into his pillow with a groan “mh…”

“Lando Norris! If you don’t wake up in the next-“ you huffed but was cut off by him pulling you down on top of him “shh..m’ sleepin...” he groaned with a yawn, “lando let me up! We need to get ready to leave!” You huffed annoyed as you struggled to get out of his grasp, hitting his arm that was wrapped around your stomach.

“I’m not gonna let go.” he said but it came out muffled from his face being nuzzled into your hair.

You sighed in defeat “please lan..we need to leaveee” you huffed as you tried to get up again but failed.

Lando sucked in a breath “fineee” he groaned placing a kiss on your cheek, “c’mon sleepyhead” you grinned as you stood up, pulling him up with you.

“Are the boys awake?” He asked groggily and you nodded with a smile “yeah they’re awake, we need to keep them awake until the airport so they sleep on the plane..hopefully” you said a sigh at the end,

“Okay…lets go sort all the boys clothes out first” lando said as he put his clothes on and you nodded, you both walked together to the boys room and smiled when you saw them awake in their cots.

“Babe? Where are the bags?” Lando asked as he looked around their bedroom, “they’re in the wardrobe!” You said from the hallway and he nodded to himself as he grabbed the matching baby blue bags, “alright..okay..so clothes, hats, socks and…nappies” lando said as he counted with his fingers, also grabbing each thing and folding them into the bag.

“Alright I’m gonna go breastfeed them…don’t forget their dummies!” You said but lando didn’t hear,

“Babe? I’ve got their bags ready, and I packed our suitcase! Anything else we need?” Lando asked as he placed the bags down by the front door.

“Yeah just little bits to add but other than that..no” you said as you thought about your list, “okay…I’ll grab that and then I’ll help you get the boys in the car” he said and you nodded with a smile as you picked the boys up in your arms, pulling your top down to breastfeed them.

-

“Thanks mate” lando said to the cab driver as he helped him gets the bags in the boot, you leaned over Archie and grabbed his seatbelt strapping it, and smiled when he began giggling at you. “What’s so funny huh?” You cooed making him giggle more.

You sat in the middle of their car seats, making sure to keep them awake so they’d have their nap on the plane but that didn’t go too well..

Lando paid the cab driver before grabbing the bags and walking with you inside, you held both the boys on each hip, Alfie resting his head on your shoulder tiredly while Archie drooled onto his now dirty onesie.

You stood in cue to weigh your bags, “I hate these stupid cues” lando grumbled annoyed as he looked at his phone for the time.

“Hey excuse me ma’am! I need to go now!” A man asked the worker and she sighed “sir you’ll have to wait in cue.”

“No! I need to go now! My planes leaving in like ten minutes!” The man said and she huffed “alright you can go through” she said as she unclipped the line stopper,

“That’s bullshit.” You muttered and lando grinned at you “sh..his plane is leaving in ten” lando hushed you as you made an angry face, he smirked at your impatience.

“Whatever. I think he should wait like the rest of us.” You huffed making him bite back a laugh.

“Well- weren’t not exactly normal babe. We have a private jet- anyway c’mon that’s us” he grinned as you walked with him, lifting up Alfie on your hip as he was slipping a bit. “Lan? Did you bring their teddies?” You asked him and he nodded “yeah they’re in their bags” he said as he grabbed your suitcase and wrapped the ticket around the handle.

-

You and lando waited by the jet, “want me to take one of them?” Lando asked and you nodded, “just while we’re waiting, when we go up the stairs you can hold the bags yeah?” You asked and he nodded.

Lando took Archie off of you and held him in his arms also resting him on his hip, “hey buddy, here you go” lando smiled as he handed him his little highland cow teddy, Archie smiled and held it tightly.

“So when can they sleep?” Lando asked you when he saw Archie passed out in his arms, “uh- around now is fine” you said and he sighed in relief.

Lando handed you Archie back when you had to board, Archie started crying from his beauty sleep being disturbed, “Sh..Sh..” you rocked him and then Alfie began to cry too because Archie was crying.

“Not you too…” You sighed as you rocked them both, lando felt bad he felt so useless, and lately the boys had grown attached to you so whenever he tried to take them off you to give you a break they would just cry non-stop.

“Hey” Oscar smiled when he saw you two, “hey osc” you smiled tiredly as you sat down at the window seat, lando chucked your bags under your seats and quickly sat down next to you, “Here, I’ll take one” lando said as he took Alfie off of you, Alfie cried since he was so tired. Lando rubbed his hand up and down his back as he laid his head on his shoulder, “Double trouble huh?” Oscar grinned and lando laughed “you could say that”

“I can help if you want?” Oscar said with a smile and lando shook his head “we’ll be fine thanks though”

“Their first Grand Prix then huh?” Max piped up from the other seat and lando nodded “yep…I even bought them hats” lando grinned like a child as he showed Oscar and Max the number 4 hats he got them, and his own so he can match.

“Oh my god, your so whipped” Max laughed and lando rolled his eyes playfully “duh? Have you seen them?!” He smiled as he placed a kiss on Alfie’s head, he could feel his breathing slow down.

“Uh- lan?” You said and he looked over to you “yeah?”

“Alfie just threw up…” you said and Lando screwed his face up “lovely…” lan half smiled as he held Alfie up and grabbed a babywipe, wiping his face whilst you wiped landos shoulder and back, “here” you said placing Alfie’s muslin on his shoulder to hopefully stop any more sick getting on him.

Archie cried and stirred in your arms, his tiredness catching up with him, “lan? Where are the dummies?” You asked as you looked through their bags. “Shit…” lando said letting his head hit the seat.

“Oh great…” you said as Archie cried in your arms. You shushed him and rocked him until he thankfully fell asleep again.

Liked by McLaren,landonorris,lewishamilton and 2,489,380 others

ynusername: Monaco baby!!! The boys first Grand Prix! 🧡💛 We’re cheering for you baby! p.s you’d lose if I was racing 😘

User1: LMAO THE END OF THE CAPTION IS CRUEL

User2: My fav wag 💞

User3: SHES SO REAL

landonorris: Thanks for the support babe

Maxverstappen: she got u good bro

liked by ynusername

landonorris: who’s side are u on?!

User6: they act like a married couple ( I luv em tho)

User7: LITERALLY LMAO

User4: Anyone else notice the matching hats or just me 🫣

liked by landonorris

User5: omg same-

User6: Can we talk about how big they are already?!

User7: IKR LIKE YESTERDAY THEY WERE BABIES?!

User4: OMG LANDO LIKED MY COMMENT

landonorris: @ynusername see told u they’d notice the hats

ynusername: 🙄

landonorris: no need for the attitude.

landonorris added to their story

User1: AHAISBEHAKA I have no one to talk to abt this 😭

User2: OMG- ADORABLE

ynusername: yeah it was until Lando got thrown up on 🤣

Landonorris: babe- You said we’d keep that between us?!

ynusername: …hehe

-

You and lando left all your bags in your hotel room and used your spare day walking around Monaco, it was quite early but the paparazzi were following you like crazy.

“Omg! This top is GORGEOUS” you gasped as you held it up for lando to look at, waiting for his judgement but it never came he just placed it in the bag along with the other one in a different colour that he liked, you smiled as you pushed the buggy walking around the looking for anything else.

“You want anything?” You asked him and he shook his head “Uh- no we can go and pay baby” he smiled as he sneaked his arm around your waist making you smirk.

You payed and put the bag under the buggy, you left the shops and immediately there were already paparazzi waiting outside the shops, you scrunched your brows from the bright flashing camera lights and instinctively pulled the buggy back, lando quickly stood in front of you and held out his arm to keep them away from you “hey? Give us some space-” Lando said angrily as he walked with you back to the hotel but they didn’t let up, three of them followed you all the way back.

“Hey dude?! Stop.” Lando said angrily “lan.” You shrieked when a man approached you, he grabbed your arm and pulled you to the ground flashing photos of you and the boys, the flashing lights blinding you and scaring the boys awake, they began crying and you quickly ran over to lando by the buggy “Step the fuck away from them!” Lando shouted and the man scurried off, lando took a breath, “c’mon let’s go to our room” he said sternly as he held your hand, you nodded lifting the hood on your hoodie up along with landos for him whilst lando pulled the buggy covers up and lifted the boys hoods up too.

Lando took a minute to walk into your shared bedroom to calm down, you sighed as you picked up the boys taking them to cuddle on the sofa together.

“Baby?” Lando called out when he didn’t see you in the kitchen or hallway “in here!” You said and he smiled when he saw you cuddled up with the twins, “mind if I join?” He asked with a smile and you shook your head shuffling over making room for him.

“I’m sorry..I hate that you have to deal with that..” lando said and you tutted “lando Norris. Do not apologise. It’s not your fault people suck.” You said smiling at the end making him give you a sad smile, “I love you” he said placing a kiss on your forehead, “all of you” he said placing a kiss on each of the boys heads too.

Y/n Y/l/n seen with hers and lando Norris’s twin boys

User1: Bro can’t you guys leave them alone?! They literally are new first time parents they don’t need or want cameras in their faces!

User2: literally! Have you seen the paparazzi photo of lando shouting and you can see one of their twins crying in the background?!

User3: omg! Yes I saw that it was awful.

User1: NO?! What the fuck.

User4: UHM- Can we talk abt the middle picture?! She’s literally crying?!

User5: I honestly feel so bad for her - lando tried to help which made it even more sad

User6: paparazzi should be illegal.

User7: Y’all she’s fine. All they did was take a photo

User8: The man taking the photo literally grabbed her arm and Yanked her?!

User9: have y’all seen the video on twitter?!

User10: what video?

User11: a fan took it from afar, the man taking pics literally grabbed y/n and yanked her arm And then took photos of their twins WITH THE FLASH ON.

Race day.

You wore your baby carrier so you could have both the boys on your front, you decided it would be better for you so they was with you the whole time and was always in your view, you walked into landos drivers room as you waited for him, he was talking to Oscar about something.

Lando laughed as oscar made a joke until something or someone caught his attention. The same man from yesterday, the one who grabbed you and took photos of you all. And he was still taking photos of lando.

Lando grinned and turned around and stuck his middle finger up at the man before walking inside with Oscar, “who’s that?” Oscar asked confused “this dickhead decided to grab y/n by the arm and push her onto the ground just to get photos of the boys, which also woke them up and scared the shit out of em.” Lando explained angrily and Oscar bit his lip awkwardly “I uh- I saw the video this morning” Oscar said and lando furrowed his brows confused “what video?”

Oscar showed him the video on his phone from a random fan that just happened to be there and film it all, “honestly, it gets out of hand sometimes..I mean all i wanted was one day out with my family y’know? Is that too much to ask for?” Lando huffed and Oscar nodded with him understandingly.

“I know mate but you did all you could do, you can see in the video” he said trying to sound comforting and lando nodded “yeah I know…anyway..I’ll see you in a bit I’m gonna go find y/n” lando said before jogging off to his drivers room.

“Y/n?” Lando called out as he opened his driver room door and smiled when he saw you sat on the sofa feeding the boys, “You okay?” He asked as he sat down next to you, “yeah, the boys were hungry and I wanted some privacy” you explained as you breastfed them, they were so cuteeee you could just squish there rosy cheeks all day.

Photo of lando Norris flipping off paparazzi.

User1: and it was deserved.

User2: YESSSS LANDO

User3: damn- bit much no?

User4: NO ITS NOT?! The guy literally harassed y/n

“So before qualifying starts, how do you feel?” The interviewer asked lando and he breathed in “uh- I feel good, y’know the car felt good during practice but qualifying will tell” lando said smiling at the end making the lady laugh.

“Of course yeah. So uh- we saw you flipped a cameraman off over there?” The lady said sticking the mic out to lando, “oh- uh yeah I did..before you jump to any conclusions that was the man that photobombed my family this morning so he deserved it” lando smirked and the lady nodded “yes i saw the video..”

“Yeah, y/n’s okay though and the boys are perfectly fine thankfully, they’re just over there actually” lando smiled as the cameraman panned over to you, you laughed as you waved both the boys hands.

Lando couldn’t hide hide massive smile at your cuteness “Your boys are adorable!” The lady aawed and lando smiled “their so cute and tiny”

“Alright, well we’ll let you go back to them now” she smiled and lando thanked her for talking him before jogging over to you. “How are my favourite people?”

You smile and look down to the boys “we’re good aren’t we?” You smile when they both start smiling and making happy baby noises.

“Daddy” Alfie coos and hold his hand out, grabbing landos racesuit material on his arm in a tight baby grip.

Lando chuckled and smiled warmly at his adorable son.

You look to Lando “how long till the race starts?” Lando thought for a moment “uh- about..half an hour maybe?” You nodded to him “you wanna go to the garage then?”

Lando nodded as he took your hand and began walking with you to the garage.

You heard Archie whine and squirm in the baby carrier “eugghh- down- mummy” he slurs and whines. Kicking his legs as he did.

You sigh “hang on bubba- let me get you down.” You said as you pull him out the baby carrier and steady him on the floor. Making sure he’s balanced before letting go.

“Stay near mummy and daddy yeah?” You say stern and he nods before walking in his little shoes in front of us whilst you and Lando walk closely behind.

Alfie also starts whining when he sees his brother walking “mummy-“ he starts and you sigh

“Yeah- you wanna get down too huh?” You grin and place him down as well as you did with Archie.

The boys walk together and they get distracted very easily but stay close to you and Lando.

That was until you got to the garage.

You were holding Alfie’s hand and swore to yourself when you saw Alfie toddling off towards the garage.

“Lan-“ you start but Lando cuts you off “on it.” He says as he jogs behind Alfie and swiftly lifts him up from under his arms.

“Where do you think you’rere going mh?” Lando grins when Alfie squeals a cheeky laugh. Lando can’t help his light laugh “you’re a little road runner.” Lando chuckles as he brings him back to where you and Archie were.

As we headed towards the garage I could hear the loud noises of the tools etc. “lan? Can you get the boys a pair of those noose cancelling headphones please?” I ask and he nods, grabbing two pairs.

I smile as I watch Lando put them on the boys.

Archie knots his brows confused when he can’t hear anything because of the headphones. I smile and gently ruffle his hair.

Lando chuckles “they look so confused” I giggle and nod as we see their confused faces.

Just then, Oscar and Lily walk over, Lily happily squeals when she sees the boys “ah! They’re so cuteeee!”

I smile and watch the boys toddle off with Lando to the garage. “I got em matching outfits again”

Lily nods with a smile “how do you tell them apart?” She asks as she sees them both toddle off, they look the exact same.

“Well- it’s easy for me and lan to tell. But at the begin when they wet born, we had to keep their hospital tags on” I giggle and Lily chuckles lightly “I can’t tell them apart”

I smile as I watch Lando with the boys “I can tell because Alfie has a slimmer face..and Archie has a mole on his neck”

-

Lando smiles and lifts Alfie and Archie up in his arms. He looks over to you “babe?” He calls over for you ur attention, you look over “yeah?”

Lando grins “can I put the boys in the car?” He asks with a cheeky grin. You sigh and nod “watch them.”

Lando nods and happily puts the boys in his f1 car. The boys squeal happily and sit in it.

Archie goes to press some buttons but thankfully Lando stops him. “Ah- no..we don’t press those buddy.”

Oscar chuckles as he watches “I still need to see them in the race suits you bought.”

Lando grins “they look adorable.” He says excitedly at the thought.

Oscar shakes his head amused “you’re wrapped around their fingers.”

Lando nods and sighs “the worst thing is, is that I don’t care.” He smiles as he watches the boys in his car.

*omg it’s been ages and this has been in my drafts for SO LONGGGG - I still need to write so many others but this is what y’all get for now 🤭😭*

[utopiastri]

Touch starved/cuddle curse for landoscar please!!! I love your writing so much, thank you for sharing 💕

hi anon! i went for cuddle curse because i always love an excuse to write magical realism - i hope you enjoy and thank you for the prompt!!!

“So. How much longer are we trapped like this?” Lando asks

Jon checks his watch and glances at the ceiling as he does some quick mental maths. “About seven more hours? Give or take.”

Lando groans and tries to tilt his head back dramatically only to be stopped abruptly when the back of his neck hits Oscar’s arm where it's curled around his shoulders. “Sorry, mate,” he grimaces.

“It’s ok,” Oscar says quietly, “Sorry for getting us in this mess.”

“It’s not your fault. Alright, well it’s not entirely your fault anyway,” Lando amends after Oscar gives him a look.

Jon clears his throat and Lando and Oscar both turn to look. “You boys all good here for the next few hours then? I'll be right next door if you need anything – you need anything before I go?” Oscar shakes his head and mutters a small thanks, but Lando stops to think about it for a second. He opens his mouth but Jon cuts him off. “Lando, no matter how many times you ask me, I’m not letting you have a cheat meal the night before a race just because your teammate got you cursed.”

Lando huffs. Oscar winces. Jon sighs.

“Fuck off then, if you’re not even gonna let me eat anything fun,” Lando grumbles.

Jon rolls his eyes and leaves the room. With him gone, Lando and Oscar fade into an awkward silence. Or as close to silence as you can get when you’re tangled so tightly with your teammate that you can hear every breath, every sniffle, every fidget. When the curse first pulled them together they'd experimented with lying further away from each other, but it resulted in so much pain for them both that they decided it would be better to just cling to each other instead.

For the record, Lando wasn’t kidding when he said this whole thing wasn’t entirely Oscar’s fault. Yes, Oscar’s the one who impeded Charles in quali today and yes, technically, Charles is the one whose magic accidentally manifested a curse on Oscar, but it’s not Oscar’s fault that Charles has never been able to control his magic.

“Why do you think Charles’ magic wound up casting a cuddle curse of all things?” Lando asks eventually, sick of the somewhat tense silence.

Oscar mumbles something but Lando can’t quite make it out.

“Hmm?”

“I said, I think the curse is having fun with the fact that Charles was pissed off that I was so close to him on track.”

“Huh?”

Oscar huffs. “I was too close to Charles on track so now the magic says I’ve gotta be too close to you instead.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry,” Oscar mumbles after a few more moments.

“I’ve told you you don’t need to apologise. It’s fine.”

“Oh, what, because you’re having such a wonderful time right now? Being forcibly stuck to your teammate when you could be in your own bed with as much space as you want?”

“I mean it’s not…like, I mean I know I said we were ‘trapped’ when Jon was here but like, it’s not…not nice.” Lando tries not to pull a face at the trainwreck of a sentence he just came out with.

He's not lying though. There is something not not nice about being cuddled up so close to Oscar. It’s warm for one thing, comforting for another. He’s always enjoyed the rare occasions he and Oscar have hugged for longer than your typical bro hug.

It’s not not nice.

It’s, well.

It's nice.

Like. Really nice.

Oscar makes a soft noise. “You, um, this is, uh…”

“Osc?”

Oscar takes a deep breath and then somehow manages to pull the two of them closer together, nuzzling his face into the side of Lando’s neck. “This ok?” he whispers. Lando can feel his lips move against his neck as he speaks.

“Yeah,” he replies as quietly as Oscar spoke. Tentatively, prepared to pull back at any moment, he takes the hand currently plastered to the back of Oscar’s shirt and dips it underneath, resting his palm there, skin against skin. “This oka–”

“Yes,” Oscar breathes, barely letting Lando finish the question, already leaning into the touch.

Lando swallows and does his best to tug Oscar in tighter.

Maybe being stuck like this for seven hours isn’t such a bad thing.

[hoiststowline]

responses to “don’t come over, I look like a mess” [w/ sunstreaker, cliffjumper, ratchet, bluestreak, hound & ironhide]

_

“What? No. What did you say? That doesn’t make any sense, I’m coming over anyways,”:

• Sunstreaker is probably the biggest repeat offender on this one, and he uses it in other situations, too. he suddenly can’t comprehend and doesn’t allow you to explain yourself, though he and you full well know he understands. grumbles the whole ‘you’re breaking up!’ schtick. pretends to drive through a tunnel when he’s forty-five seconds away (where there is no tunnels) just to hang up without letting you say a peep. he won’t leave either, so you comply and come to see him, or you will be hearing his horn for the better part of the evening.

• a second guilty charge is aimed straight at Cliffjumper. somehow, there is never any time to explain and he’s in a huge hurry, and he’s only calling you as a courtesy so you’ll be outside and ready to go. If you even get a word in, mentioning weakly you look like shit or don’t feel up to seeing him, he’ll hang up. He can’t hear your lies if he literally can’t hear them or something like that. but once he pulls up and you aren’t outside, now you’ve done it, though he never directs the frustration at you. but if he’s in such a big hurry, wouldn’t he have left by now? Surely doesn’t have the time to wait around- and he’s yelling that you look fine from the street.

“That suspiciously sounds like you just made that up. at what point has that ever stopped me before?”:

• Ratchet will express that in so many words, but his concern will triumph over most things. He’s worried by your misplaced and unusual deflection, partial to looking for his company when it’s often unattainable. He doesn’t do it on purpose, but in the spare moments he does have, he uses them to see you. So when you decline his request, he’s still coming over, hell or high water. Whatever you’re wearing or whatever you’re doing he’s fine being in the company of, so your excuses are paper thin. You don’t sound sick, but he’s gotta be certain of that...

• “yeah, a hot mess!” Bluestreak tried, you’ll give him points there. “…that’s what you meant, right?” Unsettled and nervous chatter arises on his behalf when you can’t quite articulate why you feel so messy, and he immediately begins pressing for answers. there's a full minute where he thinks he did something wrong, and just when you console him that he didn't, you can already hear his wheels burning rubber in the background. hah, good luck stopping him, he's already halfway to your place, and cannot fathom why you looking a little messy would ever prohibit him from coming over. he'll be wary and uneasy the rest of the ride, wanting to get to the root of your woes.

“You always look beautiful, but if you’re not up to company that’s okay,”:

• Hound sorta understands, yet doesn't quite completely in regards to your explanation. though he's disheartened by a handful of things- one that you don't feel up to par outwardly and think that he cares what you are wearing or how you look in this very moment. you always look perfect to him, and your comment only fuels an unsteady flame that makes him think something else is very wrong. but he won't pry or shoulder his way in, he knows you'll come around when you're ready to talk, being supportive as always. he won't argue, he's straight to the point: no, you don't look a mess. he doesn't have to see you to know that, he knows, and to call him whenever you're ready for his company because he'll be over in a heartbeat.

• if anyone gets it, it's Ironhide. your excuse is garbage and untrue, but he'll kid around and poke fun just to get you to laugh. "What, did you just wake up or somethin'?" He really misses your company if you end up canceling, but he makes sure you know that you always look good to him, no matter what. he ultimately respects your boundaries for a couple of hours, and then he's circling your block to make sure you're still alive in there. radio silence is unforgiving, but as much as he misses you, he doesn't want to cross the imaginary line that is your patience. something else must be wrong for you to disappear into your room for the majority of the day, and he intends to get to the bottom of it by the evening.

[28harryssunflower]

Broken paradise

The Italian coastline stretched endlessly before you, the deep blue sea kissing the golden sand beneath the balcony of your villa. The warm breeze carried the scent of salt and citrus, and the soft sound of waves filled the quiet space between you and Harry.

Everything was supposed to be perfect.

And for the first few days, it was. Mornings tangled in the silk sheets of his bed, afternoons spent floating in the infinity pool with glasses of white wine, evenings filled with laughter and whispered confessions over candlelit dinners. Harry had made sure of it - meticulously planning every moment, every detail, down to the playlist that played softly through the villa’s speakers. It was your own little world, untouched by reality.

Until now.

Now, you were standing on opposite sides of the bedroom, voices raised, hearts pounding - not from passion, but from frustration.

Harry scoffed, running a hand through his curls. “You can’t seriously be mad about this.”

Your arms crossed tightly over your chest. “I’m not mad… I’m just tired of you making me feel like I’m being ridiculous every time I bring something up.”

His green eyes flashed with exasperation. “Because you are being ridiculous!”

Your stomach twisted. “Wow. Thanks for that.”

Harry exhaled sharply. “That’s not what I meant. But really? You’re upset because I said you overpacked? It was a joke.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “It wasn’t just that, Harry. It was the way you said it - like you were rolling your eyes at me, like I was being annoying. And it’s not the first time.”

His jaw tensed. “So now I’m not even allowed to joke with my wife?”

“Not when it makes me feel like an idiot!”

Silence fell between you, thick and suffocating. The golden light from the setting sun spilled into the room, casting long shadows across the marble floor. Somewhere outside, the waves kept crashing, oblivious to the storm brewing inside.

Harry let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You know, I don’t know why we even bothered with this honeymoon if we were just going to spend the whole time fighting.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he snapped. “This was supposed to be perfect. I planned everything to be perfect. And yet, here we are, arguing over nothing.”

Your hands balled into fists. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you bit out. “Did you expect us to just exist in some fantasy where we never have problems?”

“No, I just didn’t think we’d be like this. Not now, not so soon.”

His words stung.

Your voice was quieter when you asked, “So soon?”

He hesitated, rubbing his jaw, his frustration evident. “We just got married,” he muttered. “And we’re already fighting like this. It makes me wonder if we’re going to be doing this for the rest of our lives.”

The air in the room shifted.

Something in your chest ached, and before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out. “Well, if you already regret it, maybe we should just get a divorce now and save ourselves the trouble.”

The second the words left your mouth, you wished you could take them back.

Harry’s entire body stiffened. His face paled, the anger in his eyes flickering into something else - something shattered.

“What?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

You swallowed hard, suddenly feeling sick. “Harry, I didn’t mean-“

But it was too late.

His expression darkened, hurt flashing across his features before he masked it with more anger. “Right,” he said coldly, nodding as if he finally understood something. “So that’s where we are now? One fight, and you’re already throwing divorce in my face?”

“That’s not what I meant!” you said desperately. “I was just frustrated!”

“Frustrated?” he repeated bitterly. “Frustrated enough to throw away everything we just promised each other?” He let out a dry laugh, stepping back like he couldn’t stand to be near you. “Unbelievable.”

Your throat tightened. “Harry-“

“Don’t.” His voice was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blade. “You don’t just say things like that. You don’t throw divorce at me like it’s nothing.”

Guilt twisted inside you. You had said it to hurt him, to make a point, but you hadn’t expected it to cut this deep.

“I don’t want that,” you said, your voice trembling now. “I don’t want anything but you.”

His jaw tensed, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. For a moment, you thought he was going to turn away, to walk out.

But then, his shoulders sagged, and his face softened - just barely. He dragged a hand down his face, letting out a slow breath before looking at you again.

“I don’t either,” he murmured. “But you can’t say things like that. Not when I mean forever with you.”

The fight wasn’t gone, but the anger had faded, replaced by something more fragile. More raw.

You hesitated before stepping closer, reaching for his hand. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean it. I was just upset, and I wanted to hurt you the way I was hurting.”

His fingers tightened around yours, warm and steady. “I know,” he said softly. “But I hate fighting with you. And I hate even thinking about losing you.”

Tears burned at the back of your eyes. “You’re not going to lose me,” you promised. “I love you. Even when we fight. Even when we’re both being idiots.”

That finally brought a small, tired smile to his lips. He sighed, pulling you into his arms, burying his face in your hair. “I love you too,” he murmured. “Even when you overpack.“

You groaned, but there was no bite behind it. “Too soon, Styles.”

His laughter rumbled against your skin, and just like that, the tension eased.

The honeymoon wasn’t perfect.

But love wasn’t about perfect. It was about choosing each other - even when it was hard. Even when it hurt.

[brynnsasha191]

why do you hate aaravos?

Complicated answer. I think he's really interesting and complex. I guess it's just because I don't think he's justified. What happened to Leola was horrific and those stary murders who are my main opps and sol regem deserve punishment for what they did to her, the rest of the world don't. They don't deserve to die and suffer because of something beings from the stars did over a thousand years ago, while Aaravos may not necessarily want to directly punish them and he's just gunning to destroy cosmic order, he's still doing this to them and making them suffer. And destroying the world will arguably affect them more than the freaking stars. Some people also defend him saying he loves and defends humans against the mean elves (lowkey don't understand the elf hate in this fandom) but when he says he wants to help humans, it's a straight up lie. And ik there's the whole 'Aaravos doesn't lie' thing but he literally unleashed eternal night on all of them, including humans, he claims to like humans but he uses them as puppets and preys on their weaknesses for his own gain. He literally doesn't care about anyone or anything other than Claudia beyond his own goal/endgame. (His relationship with Claudia is very interesting and complex and I'd love to get into it some other time)

And idk if this is what they call an "unpopular opinion" but I'm also just starting to get really sick of the 'villain with tragic backstory/heart of gold' trope. Maybe it's just because I've dealt with so many narcissists in my life, but I desperately want people to understand that some people are just bad. Some people just want to hurt you and want to see you suffer. Not everyone is a poor uwu baby who are carrying around a heart of gold that was buried by a tragic backstory, some people are just bad because they are. And that trope wouldn't annoy me nearly as much if there were only a couple of these stories but I literally cannot escape the villains who aren't really villains trope these days, every damn villain has a tragic backstory these days and I hate it. That's why I was a huge Aaravos fan before the Leola reveal because he was just bad, he was a real villain. It's ironic that the Leola reveal actually made me dislike him. (Not hating on the Leola scenes in and of itself, it's a beautiful and tragic sequence and no matter my feelings I'm glad it saw the light of day)

Not even talking about Aaravos now and idk who needs to hear this but please remember that not everyone deserves your forgiveness or sympathy. Not everyone is sorry for the way they hurt you, and not everyone didn't mean to hurt you. Just because the person who victimized and abused you was once the victim and abused does not give them an excuse for hurting you and you don't need to make excuses for them. Some people don't have tortured golden hearts buried inside. Some people are just bad.

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

I am sooooo sick, and I think what makes it worse is how it makesme start wishing.

I wish there were someone to check on me. I wish there were someone to insist I rest while they do thing like take care of the animals. I wish there were someone to offer to bring me a warm drink. I wish there were someone with cool hands to rub my feverish back**. That sort of wishing.

So here I am sick, and my thoughts start spiraling around all those things I can’t have that really boil down to one thing:

I miss being loved.

But that’s the background, the atmosphere, the very air I breathe, this permenent isolation. The more practical tug of war of being sick goes on.

I should rest.

I have things I need to do so I can’t rest.

If I rested I would just start thinking about the problems I need to deal with***, all infused withthis sadness and loneliness. That’s not rest.

The body needs rest before it breaks!!!

The brain needs activity to distract it!!

I hate being sick. Hate, hate , hate it. To indulge or fight the illness occupies my every miserable moment.

I wish there were some to help me out so I could rest for a day….

There I go, wishing again! Damn it!

Gah, I have to get well again so I can go back to pushing myself to constant activity. My “no wishes, hopes, or dreams” policy works well to keep me almost content with my life as it is, until something like this happens. Fantasies about being cared for are just my brain torturing myself. I need to rest AND be too busy to feel. Somehow.

I really hate being sick!! LOL

**OMG, I just realized how many years it’s been since anyone rubbed my back! Intellectually I realize no one will ever rub my back again, but emotionally it’s looking back and seeing the reality of it that makes it so hard. We were a family of hard work and back rubs. I still have the hard physical work to do, but no back rubs afterwards.

*** New discovery: I have to buy a tire! One of the car tires has somehow gotten so treadless I am in big, big trouble if I don’t replace it. Unfortunately affording a new tire right now is big, big trouble in itself!

[wutheringmights]

.

[videostak]

Rly annoying thing my family does is when i ask them to do smthn and they immediately in complete agreeance go "ok! No problem :)" and then just not do it and then when i inevitably have to do it they act like either grateful that i would do it or act annoyed and tell me they were totally gonna do it lol. They usually act the latter in situations where instead of saying ok they come up w/ a complete bs excuse as to why they cang so that even when i accept their excuse and do it for them they still act upset that they didnt get to do the thing i asked of them

[boyapologist]

called in sick for work for the first time today and I feel so fucking guilty

[pinkandrainyclouds]

Old people at the doctors will genuinely shove you of the way if you try to sign up before they do even though it’s not your fucking fault that you didn’t see them since they WERE WAITING IN THEIR CAR instead of by the door

[redeemingvillains]

obliviate - mattheo riddle

summary: when voldemort finds out about you and mattheo, he devises the perfect way to keep you apart.

word count: 5k

a/n: okeeey i know this is longer, but i actually adore it so much! kinda put my heart + soul into this one! extremely special shoutout to @pizzaapeteer's research on mattheo's favorite quidditch team, which provided a name i needed at the very end (hint hint!) ♡

warnings: angst (but also fluff, pls, it's me), use of the cruciatus curse, voldemort being voldemort.

soundtrack: dancing to the sound of a broken heart - galantis

OBLIVIATE (v.) -- To forget, to wipe from existence.

You noticed before he did.

It was early; the morning sun was just barely sneaking past the curtains in the window that fluttered gently in the autumn breeze, setting his bedroom in a deep golden hue. Your limbs were heavy with sleep and you were settled warmly in Mattheo’s arms, you could feel the rise and fall of his chest at your back, his warm breath on your neck. Normally this was your very favorite way to wake up, but something was off, something had made your eyelids flutter open, a feeling, a foreboding.

You didn’t want to wake him, gods knew he needed his sleep, so you squinted slowly around the room until your eyes rested on the very arms that were wrapped around you.

It was his dark mark, writhing against his skin.

No— you thought, but in an instant, Mattheo jolted awake, breathing heavily like he was coming out of a nightmare, or coming into one, and within a moment he was pulling his arms out from around you and you immediately felt cold for their absence.

“Matty” you whispered, turning to face him and reaching out for him, but he was already up and out bed, pulling his clothes on haphazardly.

He turned at the sound of your voice, looking longingly at you for the briefest moment, tangled in his sheets, perfect in the morning glow, your eyes begging him not to leave.

“Stay?” you asked quietly, and his stomach lurched. Fuck if you didn’t have the ability to bring him to his knees with just one word; but his arm burned and ached with impatience… He wouldn’t be kept waiting much longer and Mattheo could only come up with so many excuses as to why he was always late without exposing the truth, desperate to protect you.

“I have to…” he started, but he didn’t finish the statement, didn’t want to say what exactly he’d have to do and thank the gods you never asked.

“I know” you sighed.

“I love you” he said, leaning forward to kiss you sincerely, his fingers brushing your jawline, taking one last piece of humanity and goodness with him.

“I love you more” you whispered as his form disappeared in front of you, leaving you alone.

Mattheo knew the moment he arrived that something was deeply deeply wrong.

He recognized his surroundings at once: the Riddle family manor. The halls echoed with a silence so familiar to him and his childhood it felt like his heart stopped beating so as not to make a sound. Besides silence, though, he also felt the other hallmark of his childhood: loneliness. He was alone; not one in a mistakable mix of followers that he could slip into undetected, he was home, and he was alone, and he felt an uneasiness, a sickness settle over him as the hairs on the back of his neck began to rise and he turned to see his father stepping out of the shadows.

“Twelve minutes” he said by way of greeting, avoiding Mattheo’s eyes as he approached him like a predator would its prey.

“Twelve minutes. From the time I summoned you, until now. What, pray tell, was so pressing, so urgent as to cause your delay?”

Mattheo’s mind swept quickly over the image of you in his bed, your hair splayed on his pillow, the smile on your lips and your soft whisper as he’d apparated, but he quickly dismissed the thought.

“S’early” he said, kicking himself for how his voice waivered in its reply.

Voldemort nodded in mock understanding, like he was considering this, drawing out the silence between them, painfully so.

“So not only are you late, but you are also lying” he said, emphasizing the last word, spitting it like a hiss, his black eyes snapping to Mattheo’s in way that caused him to jolt in reply, an automatic defense mechanism against the only living being capable of scaring him as Voldemort stormed towards him, entering his personal space as his voice rose.

“Do you remember what happened to Alexei Donovan when he lied to me?” he asked.

Mattheo’s eyes shifted between his fathers, swallowing, vividly remembering watching Nagini devour Donovan limb from limb.

“ANSWER ME!” his voice boomed.

“Y-y-yeah” he stuttered.

“Yes, my Lord” Voldemort corrected him.

“Yes, my Lord” Mattheo repeated.

And then Voldemort’s tone changed completely, as he took a step back and a smile spread across his inhuman face, which was somehow more disturbing than the alternative.

“But I am a merciful Lord, aren’t I?” he asked, his head cocked, daring Mattheo to disagree.

“Yes, my Lord” he said.

Voldemort nodded in approval.

“Yes, I am. And what a relief that must be to Ms. YLN at this very moment, hmm?” he asked, his eyes clocking Mattheo’s reaction as the blood drained from his face, his eyes blew wide and his shaking hand reached for his wand.

You watched the empty space where Mattheo had apparated like he might change his mind and come back, perhaps willing him to, before you laid back down, settling for his lingering warmth and his smell against the sheets when you heard footsteps outside the door.

You sat up, excited...naive you would think later, so fucking naive with the hope that he had returned, only to feel the blast of the door getting blown off of its hinges as you moved to cover your face from the flying debris.

Mattheo was breathing erratically, his chest visibly rising and falling with pure, unadulterated rage mixed with a fear so palpable it was like he could taste it on his tongue. He was desperately trying to rein in his emotions and failing miserably as his mind catapulted over every worst case scenario.

He spoke, finally, conjuring the only thing he could think to say as his brain continued in overdrive.

"Don't" he said firmly, threateningly, his voice level for the first time that morning.

His father smiled broadly without an ounce of kindness behind his eyes as they narrowed.

"You never learn… What did I tell you? What have I always told you? This—" he said, gesturing to Mattheo's body shaking in fight or flight mode "—is weakness. Look at you!" he said with disgust, with disdain, "You're worthless. You can't decide what to you, your mind is divided when it should be focused; you're thinking of her when you should be thinking only of yourself!"

Mattheo heard every word he was saying, but all he could think about was you, about how to get back to you, how to stop whatever had already begun; but it was like chasing a train on foot that had long since left the station, no matter how badly he wanted to jump in front of it, it was far too late.

"So, one question remains" Voldemort said, circling him again. "You...Or her?" he asked, sneering.

Mattheo's eyes flicked darkly to his father. "Me or her what?" he said through gritted teeth.

"Surely you understand that I can't allow this relationship to continue with the way it's destroying you, and while the Carrows provided me with a lengthy list of ways we could enforce that" he said, smiling, letting the threat of his most devoted followers linger. "I have something much simpler in mind." He stopped pacing, snapping to face Mattheo fully, his robes flourishing around him.

"I will have your memories" he said proudly. "And one of you will forget their feelings for the other... forever" he whispered as Mattheo felt weak in his knees, like they'd buckle beneath the weight of what had been said.

"So, whose will it be?" Voldemort asked.

You felt excruciating pain in every limb, every tendon, every bone, and when you opened your mouth to scream, the Carrows took your words.

All you could do was watch them through the tears that poured out of your eyes in your silent struggle, willing, praying for Mattheo to come back, pleading with him in your mind; please, please, please you thought even as you felt your resolve and strength waning.

Mattheo's mouth had run dry and there was bile in the back of his throat at the impossible decision before him: Either forget the brightest light in his life, perhaps the only thing keeping him steady in an ever-spiraling world, forget the way your skin felt under his fingertips, the smell of your shampoo, how tightly you squeezed him when he hugged you, or the sound of your laugh, the way you listened sincerely to him with your full attention or rubbed his back when he couldn't sleep; forget the only and most sincere feeling of love he’d ever experienced.

Or worse, meet your eyes and not see a light behind them, the way they'd twinkle with adoration for him, watch you forget him completely and live life instead as your friend, a bystander, maybe even watch you fall in love with someone else... His stomach lurched.

...But in a way, isn't that what you deserved? To live a life free of all of this, free of him and the pain he caused you, constantly, every time he had to leave, every time he had to live this second life. You were meant for more than this, you deserved to be loved by someone who could give you everything in return.

"Hers" he spluttered. "Take her memories" he said quickly before he could change his mind.

Voldemort nodded obligingly before waving a hand, dismissing him.

Your eyes fluttered open as you lay in your four-poster bed, a soft smile on your lips as you saw the morning sun just barely sneaking past the curtains in the window that fluttered gently in the autumn breeze, setting your bedroom in a deep golden hue.

Your limbs were heavy with sleep and you were settled warmly in your sheets. You felt refreshed, though you had the smallest echo of a headache that you attempted to rub away as you got ready for the day.

You made your way down to breakfast, settling in amongst your friends.

"Good morning!" you said cheerfully as you took your usual seat between Pansy and Blaise.

"Good morning, babes!" Pansy chirped as the boys nodded, waved, and greeted you in various acknowledgements. You grabbed a pastry and pressed closer to Blaise to help him with the crossword puzzle in the Daily Prophet. You were deeply focused on the black and white print when Mattheo wandered in, sliding onto the bench across from you. His movement caught your eye and you glanced at him and offered a small wave before returning your attention to the paper.

And that was all he got.

A glance, a smile that he tried to hold on to, to see if there was even a glimmer of recollection behind it. But there was nothing.

The spell was strong. It had tied up every lose end. Your things were gone from his room, your pictures together wiped clear by the time he returned, even your hair tie had disappeared from his wrist. And when he crawled into his bed, and realized your scent was gone from his sheets, he pulled his pillow over his head to mask his muffled sob.

Now not even his friends remembered your relationship, he realized, as he looked around at them, all totally unphased by the fact that you weren't glued to each other's side. At once he craved the way Theo complained incessantly about your PDA, and Blaise teased him for being whipped. He would give anything anything for something other than the complete ignorance in front of him.

He'd never felt so alone.

A few days later, you noticed Mattheo was...off. Even moreso than usual. You were used to him being standoffish, reserved, a total closed book, but you sensed something different about him. You had never been close, but something about his demeanor kept catching your attention.

"Are you okay?" you asked him that weekend at the Slytherin house party.

You'd had to raise your voice to be heard over the crowd and the loud music and his eyes snapped to yours, almost in shock, before they began intently searching your face.

You looked back at him, confused, waiting for a reply.

"M'fine" he said finally, taking a long drink from his cup in an effort to occupy hands that desperately wanted to pull you into him and lips that desperately wanted to tell you a truth that didn't exist anymore.

"Lighten up, Matty!" you said, gently shoving him on his chest as you walked away, and he nearly choked on his firewhiskey, because there was only one person in his life that had ever called him that, and it was you, beginning the night you'd first time told him you loved him.

He watched you walk away and fade back into the crowded party, wondering, daring to hope that there was a way to get you back.

After that night, Mattheo’s attention on you increased tenfold. The following morning he'd squeezed his way next to you at breakfast, nearly knocking Blaise off the bench as he slid you your favorite coffee.

"Oh!...Thank you?" you'd said, surprised as you peered over his shoulder at Blaise and then looked down at the latte. "How did you—?"

"—Can I walk you to class?" he asked eagerly, a smile on his face.

"Suuureeee" you said hesitantly.

Then, he wanted to walk you to every class, and he'd even offered to carry your books. It was kind, endearing even, but it felt misplaced, so out-of-the-blue that it caught you off guard and confused you.

"Mattheo, I really want to thank you for everything you've been doing for me" you said finally as you walked out of your potions class to find him waiting for your eagerly, like a puppy, a smile on his face. Your eyes shifted to the classmates that walked by, eyeing the two of you together. "I just want you to know, I'm not really looking for anything serious. We're friends, that would be a little...weird, you know?" you said gently.

A moment.

And then he felt a chasmic split in his heart that he didn’t think he’d live through once, let alone twice. It had never occurred to him that there was a world in which you wouldn’t fall madly in love with him again as your words brought a memory rushing forward...

"Is this going to be weird?—" you asked, breathless, until his lips cut you off again, crashing to yours as his hands pulled you further against him in the broom closet. "—Darling, I could not care less" he murmured against you, and you laughed as your fingers tangled into the curls at the base of his neck and he felt your tongue against his own. “Mmm our friends are going to lose their mind” you whispered, grinning wickedly at him.

"Matty?" you asked, concerned at the look on his face, pulling him out of the memory, even as he tried and failed to hold on to it.

His eyes refocused on yours as his face darkened.

"Why are you calling me that?" he asked abruptly, his eyes narrowing.

"What?" you asked, taken aback at his tone.

"Matty. Why are you calling me that?"

"I—" you started before looking up at him, confused, feeling the dull ache of one of your more frequently occurring headaches coming on. "I-I don't know" you said quickly, a blush rising to your cheeks as you pushed past him.

He turned and punched the wall forcefully, feeling his knuckles crack in response.

Weeks went by. Every second in your existence was a painful reminder of what he would never have again, and yet he refused to distance himself, desperate for your laugh even if was for someone else, your smile, even if he wasn't the one to put it there.

Sometimes he swore he saw the slightest recollection in your eyes; he'd catch you looking at him, and you'd smile when he caught your eye, but it was always friendly, never like the look you used to give him, with the glimmer of something sinfully mischievous beneath it that had the two of you tumbling into his bed between classes.

The whole situation was setting him on edge, making him more anxious and fidgety than he'd ever been. But, of course, no one seemed to notice, his friends either chalking it up to his normal idiosyncrasies or bewitched to ignore his unusual behavior.

Now he was staring at the book in his lap, reading the same line over and over and over again, his mind running ragged as you sat beside him. At this distance he could smell your perfume, could feel your warmth radiating next to him and his heart ached at your proximity.

He hadn't realized he was doing it at first, but his leg was jiggling incessantly between the two of you, his jitters working at the pace of his mind, his body's panicked response to being so tantalizingly close to you, so desperate for you and not being able to have you. Suddenly he felt a warm hand on his leg, resting there gently as fingers began to trace a familiar pattern on his thigh, causing his jittering to slow along with his heart, which had now dropped into his stomach.

He glanced sidelong at you, afraid to move an inch, terrified that you would stop. He noticed you hadn’t broken your concentration on your book, perhaps hadn’t even realized you were touching him, it was like your body was moving on autopilot to comfort him in the very way you used to, tracing hearts on his thigh before nuzzling into him or pressing a warm kiss to his cheek.

He held his breath with the hope that this might mean something deeper, that there was a piece of you that remembered him as he closed his eyes, and tried to focus on the pattern of your fingers, the simple touch nearly bringing him to tears as he tried to let himself live in the memory of you.

You were right at the very best part of your book, the plot finally taking off, when you felt the familiar ache in your head that very quickly turned to a throbbing that brought you back to the present moment, and made you realize your hand had been resting on Mattheo’s thigh.

“Oh, gods!” you said suddenly, pulling your hand back quickly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—” you started until you saw the pained expression on his face, his eyes closed, his head hung as his hand carded through his hair. Your headache was pounding in full now, enough to make you wince and touch your temple. His eyes fluttered open, looking at you with concern.

“YN—?”

“—S-Sorry!” you said quickly, gathering your things and beelining for your room.

“Have you noticed anything… different with Mattheo recently?” you asked Pansy that weekend.

You were laying on your stomach on your bed, flipping casually through a magazine as she sat next to you, admiring her nails as she painted them a deep emerald.

You’d tried to ask as nonchalantly as you could, but she looked up at you with an eyebrow raised in question.

“I don’t know he’s been so… strange with me. He’s wanted to walk me to class, and carry my books, he wants to hang out all the time and he somehow knew how I liked my latte…?” you trailed off, leaving out the way your hand had ghosted over him, the expression on his face, and your recurring headaches that didn't feel like a coincidence anymore, flaring up every time you were around him.

A moment passed but Pansy didn’t reply and when you looked at her you saw that her expression hadn’t changed; she was staring blankly at you, not saying a word, which was extraordinarily odd to put it mildly.

This was the type of gossip that would usually have her on her feet, screaming, spiraling, devising a messy plan to get two of her best friends together, but you were getting nothing in return, less than nothing.

“Pans?” you goaded, prompting a response.

Her head tilted slightly, abnormally in a way that was starting to creep you out as her blank stare continued and you slowly pulled yourself upright and away from her.

“Let it go” she said flatly. “You’re imagining things.”

You were taken aback and started to respond before she interrupted you.

“—I mean, you can’t think that he’s into you or something, do you? He would never go for you… what would he see in you? What could you possibly have to offer the Dark Lord’s son YN? He’s got girls lined up out the door for him.”

You felt tears sting your eyes as you sat up fully now. Never once in your almost ten years of friendship had she ever said anything like that to you before. You were hurt, but you also couldn’t help but feel like something was very very wrong as fear fluttered in your heart at her dark words and unnatural expression.

Suddenly, your mind snapped black for a moment to another time you felt foreboding, felt fear in your bones, screaming silently with no one to hear you and you stumbled to your feet, wiping the tears from your eyes as your head throbbed so hard you were afraid you were going to be sick.

Pansy looked up at you, and smiled, unphased by the way you were shaking or swiping at your running mascara as she smiled. “Want to go to dinner babes?” she asked cheerful again, like she had forgotten everything she’d just said to you.

“I-I’ve got to go” you said quickly, as you made your way for the door, desperate to find the person you sensed was responsible for this all.

You made your way to the common room in slow motion, like one of those dreams where you’re running but not actually going anywhere. You felt flushed and feverish as your body began to tremble and the room felt like it was distorting itself. You looked around frantically and found Mattheo walking in your group of friends on their way to dinner.

“YN!” Blaise cheered, noticing you approach as Draco and Theo turned in concert, smiling widely at you with uncannily happy expressions.

But the minute Mattheo’s eyes landed on you, his smile dropped to concern and he quickly approached you, closing the distance between you.

“What’s wrong?” he asked immediately, reaching for you before pulling his hands back awkwardly.

“Can I talk to you?” you winced as your headache intensified “Please?”

“Yeah, of course” he said eagerly, motioning to his friends, “I’ll catch up with you” he said, nearly ignoring them completely as he led you back towards their now empty room.

He shut the door behind you both and you swayed on your feet before moving between the four poster beds and sitting on the edge of his.

There were five identical beds in the room and he tried not to read too much into the fact that you’d known which was his, even though in this reality you’d never been here. And then he tried to calm the erratic beating of his heart of you being here, alone with him, in his room, shaking the thought from his mind quickly as he took in the pained look on your face, your eyes pinched closed as you rubbed your temple

He came quickly to you, kneeling in front of you, moving to place his hands on your legs and pulling back, never knowing what the fuck to do with them anymore around you.

“What’s going on—” he started.

“—What did you do to me?” you whispered harshly, your eyes fluttering open, your face scrunched angrily in accusation.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Mattheo, something is very very wrong, and you can’t tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

He stopped breathing. It couldn’t be.

“Our friends aren’t normal, people around us aren’t normal, and I feel like my insides are on fucking fire” you said, grimacing. “And it only happens when I’m around you. I’m not an idiot, Mattheo, is this because I turned you down?”

For his part he looked like he was about to cry, he didn’t look threatening or guilty, just enormously sad as he looked up at you with his amber eyes and your headache split to a nearly debilitating degree and tears flowed from your eyes in pain.

“My head” you said in a muffled sob.

You felt his warm hands rest on your legs, the first time he’d let himself touch you in months and you felt another flash in your mind, him smiling down at you with a lopsided grin in a way you’d never seen him look at you before, with adoration, with longing, with love, but it didn’t feel weird this time, it felt normal, so familiar…

“YN?” he whispered and your eyes fluttered open to see his transfixed on you, scanning your every feature, his expression full of concern. “Please hear me when I say I would never ever hurt you.” A lie he realized too late as he looked at you now.

“I-I know that?” you said shakily. “Somehow I know that but I don’t know how else to explain this or how I’m feeling” you said, sniffling.

“Fuck!” he muttered in frustration as he stood up and started pacing, running his fingers through his hair. He was certain that something was happening and yet he had no idea how to help you, the image of you crying in pain on his bed making him physically ill.

You sniffed again and said the next sentence so softly he swore he'd dreamt it.

“You have a scar on your shoulder, here” you said, gesturing over your own shoulder blade, tracing the same pattern of the raised skin on his back.

“You take your tea with milk and two sugars” your voice wobbled but was gaining strength as you kept speaking and he turned to look at you.

“You write left-handed but play quidditch right handed.”

Your eyes squeezed shut, words tumbling from your mouth now, like a broken dam.

“You always wanted a dog growing up and if you’d had one you would have named him—"

“—Zoryn” you said simultaneously. He moved to approach you, crouching in front of you again as he stared at you in awe, unable to believe what was going on.

Your eyes opened at his voice.

“After my favorite quidditch player” he said. “YN you’re the only person who knows that.”

“Why do I know these things?” you asked, pained.

He opened us mouth but nothing came out.

“Matty” you were practically beginning him to help you understand but he was too scared to be wrong, too scared to tell you the truth.

“...I’m the only one that calls you that” you whispered, and he nodded encouragingly.

“Yeah, you are” he said quietly, gently.

You reached out tentatively, your hand trembling and touched his cheek and he let his head fall against the palm of your hand, nuzzling into you as his eyes fluttered closed. You sniffed again.

“It’s okay, love, I’m here” he said tenderly.

“B-But you weren’t there” you said, breathing heavily all of a sudden, panicked. “I-I was scared and I wanted you there and you weren’t there…” and just like that your eyes blinked to his and memories came like an avalanche as you stood and he rose his feet beside you.

The first time he kissed you, the feeling of his warm palm in yours, tangling your fingers in his curls, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest in bed, the way he’d pull you onto his lap at breakfast and everyone would moan about it, him nuzzling into your neck, his arms around your waist and his hand at the small of your back in the corridor between classes. His lopsided grin as his amber eyes twinkled down at you and he whispered “Gods, I’m crazy about you, darling”

“I remember! I remember!” you said finally looking up at the real Mattheo standing in front of you, his face somewhere between sheer panic and shock and suddenly the inches between you were too much as you flew into his arms, wrapping yourself around him as he lifted you off the ground.

“Fuck baby” he said as you felt him shaking beneath you. “I’m sorry I’m so fucking sorry. He made me. M-made me choose, your memories or mine and—“ he choked up as hand came to rest on the back of your head, holding you closer to him “—I didn’t want you to live a moment in any reality thinking I didn’t love you.”

“It’s okay, Matty, it’s okay” you murmured against him, clinging to him, to the moment.

“None of this is okay” he said back.

“It’s ok now” you reassured him.

He made to pull back but you squeezed him tighter, afraid.

“I don’t want to forget” you mumbled into his neck.

“You’re not going to” he said through a laugh, the first time the sound had left his lips in months.

“Let me guess” you sniffed against him, fighting the knowing smile on your lips, “because you’re unforgettable” you grumbled at his cocky humor.

“Well, yeah” he said, laughing genuinely now, even as you pinched him.

“But more importantly—” he said as he took a step forward to lay you down on his bed so he could look at you, could finally see the sparkle of recognition in your eyes that he had been craving. You were looking back at him like you were committing his every feature to memory, your stomach flipping at how beautiful he was, at how you could ever forget it, tracing the scar at his eyebrow, his flushed cheeks, his lips and noting the twinkle in his eyes.

“—You’re not going to forget because the most powerful wizard alive already tried to make you, and it didn’t fucking work.”

You smiled at him, resolutely. “I could never forget you.”

“That’s right, baby” he said as he leaned down to brush his lips against yours, lingering for just a moment, savoring it like it was the first time all over again.

taglist: @dustie-faerie, @urfavfrenchgrl, @darlingshecried, @thegoddessofnothingness, @kenjikishimotoswifey, @mattiesgf @sleepiibunniiii @girllblogging777 @foivetimesacharm @clar2aa @broadwaybaby123 @slytherinscreamqueen @sectumsempraaa

[ilovemitsuya]

Hiii!!! Can I request a ff where reader is sick and is trying to hide it from Sylus but he notices right away and insists he take care of her.

sylus x reader

The first signs were easy enough to ignore. A dull ache in my chest, a persistent weariness that clung to me no matter how much I rested. I told myself it was just stress, but as the days passed the symptoms grew worse. My strength began to wane, and the pain became harder to hide. I stared at my computer not noticing a hand on my shoulder.

“Are you okay? You’ve been staring at your screen for a while now.” I look over my shoulder to see Tara staring at me.

“I’m fine, just feeling under the weather.” I said as I looked away from her.

“I think you should take it easy. You’ve been overworking yourself a lot.” She thought for a moment, her finger resting on her chin. “I know! Me and the others are going to do karaoke you should join us.”

I thought about it for second. I could really use the time to go out but I couldn’t even speak, let alone sing. “I’m sorry can we do it next time?”

Tara put on a frown “Awh, next time you better go. Promise?”

I looked at her with a smile

“Promise.”

Besides, I’m meeting up with Sylus later on. Suddenly i remembered that he had a business trip he was talking about. He said I had to go but I can’t let him see me like this. Otherwise he would stay with me and not even go himself. It was an important trip I didn’t want to ruin it for him.

I knew Sylus would notice eventually.

He was too observant, too attuned to every detail of my life.

So I hid it. I avoided his gaze when I would have to excuse myself when the coughing fits became too intense. I thought I was being careful, and that I could keep this secret until I found a way to manage it on my own.

But I underestimated him.

╔══════╗

“You're late, sweetie." he said, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. “If I had to wait any longer I would’ve sent Mephisto out looking for you.”

Sylus said leaning back on his motorcycle.

“Yeah, that won’t be necessary.”

Sylus gave me one last look before he threw a motorcycle helmet my way nearly dropping it.

He patted the seat behind him when he noticed I wasn’t moving.

I was way too tired to even move.

“Get on or I’m leaving without you.”

I snap out of my thoughts and quickly scram to sit behind him.

———-

At first it was subtle. A slight hesitation in her step, a flash of pain quickly masked by a practiced smile. Sylus watched her from the corner of his eye, his mind a whirlwind of calculations.

She was careful. Too careful. Avoiding his gaze when she thought he wasn't looking, suppressing coughs when she thought he wasn't listening. But Sylus knew. He always knew.

He sat in the chair by the window, the vastness of the space outside doing very little to calm his mind. His fingers tapped against the armrest, each tap a mark of his growing frustration. Something was wrong; he could feel it in his bones.

“Mephisto, keep a close eye on her.”

caw caw

She had been acting differently for days now. And while she thought she had done her best to hide it, Sylus was not one to be easily deceived.

╔══════╗

I knew he started watching me more closely. His eyes narrowing with that sharp, calculating look I knew so well. I could feel his suspicion growing, could sense the weight of his gaze on me even when I wasn't looking. But I kept up the act, clinging to the hope that I could keep him in the dark just a little longer.

Later that evening he barged in the room without warning, his presence filling the room with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat. I looked up, startled, meeting his eyes only to see the truth in them - he knew.

"You're sick," Sylus stated, his voice low and void of the warmth he had once reserved for me.

For a moment, I tried to deflect, to brush it off as nothing. "What? I’m perfectly fine.” I said trying to hold in my cough. Perfect timing.

But it was the way the energy shifted in the room. The way he loomed over me with a commanding presence, his expression unreadable made it clear there was no escaping this. "Don't lie to me." he hissed, and the force of his words sent a shiver down my spine.

"You're hiding something."

I shook my head, standing to meet him. But there was a hesitation in my movements, a reluctance I couldn't fully hide. "No, I haven't. I've just been... tired. There's nothing to worry about."

But Sylus was done with her evasions.

He grabbed her wrist, not roughly, but firmly enough to stop her from retreating.

"Don't lie to me, Sweetie." he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

"Something's wrong. I can see it. You've been hiding it from me, and I want to know why."

I pulled my wrist from his grasp and took a step back, shaking my head. "It's nothing, Sylus. I'm fine.

You don't need to worry."

"Don't you dare try to shut me out," he growled, his tone sharper than he intended. "I know something is wrong, and I won't let you deny it."

Sylus thought she might continue to deny it. But then she crumbled, her shoulders slumping as she finally let her guard down.

"I've been feeling sick," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "It started a few days ago, and it's just been getting worse. I didn't want to tell you because I wanted you to let me go to that business trip with you.”

He shook his head, his hand reaching out to cup my cheek with a surprising gentleness.

“Is that what this is all about? You were hiding your sickness because you wanted me to let you go on the business trip?”

I leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand grounding me in a way I hadn't felt in days. "Yes, I’m sorry.”

His expression hardened again, but there was a softness in his eyes that made my heart ache. "Well, you’re right, you’re not going."

“But I—“

“I’m canceling the trip. I’m staying here with you until you feel better.”

He looked back at me, and for a brief moment, I saw something tender in his gaze, something that reminded me why I had fallen for him in the first place.

“I knew something was wrong. Mephisto snitched you out.”

That damn bird.

"Let's get you to bed," he said softly, his voice gentle but firm. "You need to rest."

He picked me up bridal style and held me in his arms.

"I'm fine, Sylus. I don't need to be treated like-"

He silenced her with a look, one that she couldn’t argue against. "You need to rest," he repeated, his tone leaving no room for discussion. "And I'm going to make sure you do."

Without waiting for her response, Sylus guided her toward the bed.

She hesitated for a moment, but the exhaustion was too much, and she allowed him to help her lie down.

Sylus moved with a surprising gentleness, adjusting the pillows and smoothing the blankets as he settled her in.

Once she was comfortable, he sat down beside she on the edge of the bed. His hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. His touch was soft, tender. A stark contrast to the man who ruled Onychinus with an iron fist.

"You've been pushing yourself too hard," he murmured, his eyes studying her face with an intensity that was almost protective.

"You need to let me take care of you. You’re like a sick kitten who needs to be monitored."

I looked up at him, my eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and vulnerability.

"I didn't want to worry you,"

Sylus's expression softened even further, his thumb gently tracing the outline of my cheek. "You worrying me by hiding things is worse," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "You don't have to do this alone. I'm here for you."

He leaned down, pressing his cheek to my forehead, lingering there for a moment as if he was attempting to strengthen me.

When he pulled back, my eyes were already starting to droop, the weight of the day finally catching up. But even as sleep began to claim me, I reached out, my hand finding his.

"Sylus," I murmured, voice drowsy. "Stay with me?"

"I'm not going anywhere,” he promised. His voice steady. He slipped under the blankets, his arms wrapping around me protectively. "I'll be right here when you wake up."

Sylus held her close, his fingers gently stroking her hair. He listened as her breathing slowly evened out, the tension in her body melting away as she drifted into sleep.

For a long time, Sylus simply watched her. His mind racing with plans for when she wakes up. As she slept, Sylus allowed himself to relax, the tight coil of worry in his chest loosening for the first time in days. He would take care of her, no matter what it took. Because she was worth protecting at all costs.

I’ll kiss anyone who requests

[bbyquokka]

drunk

– jeongin is drunk - in more ways than one .ᐟ.ᐟ

pairing | yang jeonging x fem reader

genre | established relationship , smut – 18+ is strongly advised!

cw | jeongin is drunk , explicit language , face sitting , oral (f rec) , breast play , masturbation (m) , face riding , 'girl' is used , unprotected penetration

words | 2.7k ~ ( 2,776 )

notes | another piece i wrote when i went on a break! i dont write for jeongin enough :( i hope u all enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it!

m.list — tag list — you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

soft grunts and groans from beside you fill the space of the car you're currently driving.

the streets are somewhat quiet. the headlights from cars passing by blinding you but the night is calm and quiet which, for a saturday, is unusual.

what's even more unusual is for you to be driving around in your boyfriend's expensive car, with him being drunk and groaning in the passenger seat. his eyes closed as his temple rests against the cold glass of the window, providing some cooling relief to his sweat coated skin.

jeongin, chan, seungmin and hyunjin decided that tonight's the night that they’d go out and have a ‘lads night.’

you don't mind jeongin going out. you trust that he (and his friends) will care and look out for one another. you trust that, when one has one too many, they will stop it from becoming a disaster.

and that is the case for you.

jeongin can handle his drink–to some extent. chan texted you urging you to pick up your not-so sober boyfriend from the club, claiming that jeongin has had one too many shots and alcohol his body can handle.

“feels good.” you stop at a red light to look at your hazy boyfriend. his usual well-kempt hair is disheveled. a beautiful pink haze sits pretty on his glowy, sweat stained skin.

“what feels good, baby?”

“i love you, you know that right?” he mumbles, ignoring your question. you laugh softly and nod.

“i know. i love you too.”

“really?” he lifts his head up from the cold glass, his eyes wide and glistening, like a love sick puppy.

“really. forever and always, remember.” jeongin nods and leans over, hooking his long pinky finger with yours.

“pinky promise.”

“pinky promise.” you repeat with a smile. jeongin sits back in his seat, a grin adorning his facial features and making his eyes crinkle at the corners.

“i’m one lucky man, yn. i’m the luckiest man in this entire world! no.. wait, galaxy!” as the red light switches to green, you start to drive as you listen to your loved one babble on with himself.

after a few minutes of babbling, it falls silent. the only sound is the roar of the car engine and passing vehicles. you think nothing of the silence, until a few small breathy pants ring in your ears.

maybe he is sleeping? is your first thought until you hear a low, guttural grunt. your ears perk up at the sound. you quickly glance to the side. you can only see jeongin slouching in his seat, his head hanging low with his chin tucked into his chest, hair hiding his face.

you focus on the road. the roads may be quiet but that's no excuse to act stupid.

“hurts.” jeongin pants, his voice strained a little. you panic a little.

“what hurts, baby?”

“yn.. it hurts.” he mumbles. he looks up at you to catch your gaze but you keep your eyes on the road. “yn.. help me. please.”

his usual soft voice is now laced with desperation; like he is begging for you.

“tell me what hurts, darling.” is it his stomach? he is drunk after all, so maybe he needs you to pull over.

“help me.” he begs, on the verge of tears. you drive to a nearby car park, shutting off the engine and taking off your belt.

you look at jeongin. the pink haze has now turned red, spreading to his ears. his eyes are hazy and glassy. lips glistening from the saliva.

“baby.. are you ok?” you lean over to him, placing your hand on his thigh gently. he tenses under your touch. 

“hurting.” he repeats. his breathing slowly becoming short and laboured.

“your stomach? if you need to throw up, it's ok to baby.” you squeeze his thigh as reassurance but that causes jeongin to let out a soft grunt and tense more under your hand.

“no.” he huffs, his patience running very thin. “it hurts.” you stare at him, utterly confused. with a huff, jeongin grabs your hand that's on his thigh and places it on his crotch.

“oh. oh!” his cock is straining against the rough material of his black jeans. he bucks his hips in the palm of your hand for some sort of friction but it's not enough to suffice and feed this hunger he has. “why.. how?”

“i..i dont know. i just… looked at you and now i feel so hot and bothered.” his chest rises up and down fast. he squirms in his seat, pulling at the fabric of his shirt as a way of saying ‘get it off me’

“i want to see you.” his eyes scan you, undressing and eating you up. you feel bashful and aware of his prying eyes. he takes his seatbelt off and struggles to unbuckle the belt of his own jeans. “take them off.”

“excuse me?” you stutter. 

“take them off. your pants. off. please. i want to see you, yn.”

“we're in public, jeongin. anyone can see us!” you stumble over your words.

“the windows are tinted.” he states. an argument you lose in an instant. you can't deny, however, that his request has left you feeling a little tingly in the pit of your stomach. “please.”

you nod, giving in to him; as always. you take off your pants, throwing them to the side. jeongin watches you, eyes never leaving you as he licks his lips hungrily.

“c’mer.” rough hands grab your waist and pull you onto his lap. you have no option but to situate your legs on either side of him. his large hands reach behind you to grab the soft flesh of your ass.

“mhm.. missed you.” he murmurs as he massages, squeezes and plays with your ass cheeks. you chew your bottom lip gently, your body twitching every now and then. he buries his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. more guttural groans erupt from the back of his throat as he takes in mouthfuls of your scent. “smells good”

“we should go home. you're drunk.” you say in an attempt to stop him. 

“’m fine.” he states. “just want to touch you some more, that's all.” his lips start to pepper kisses along the skin of your neck. they’re soft and gentle at first, but they’re quick to turn into hot, wet open mouth kisses where he leaves behind marks in the form of purple bruises and teeth.

“then can we go home?” you struggle to say due to you slowly losing your composure as jeongin attacks you sweet spots. his large hands playing and fondling with your ass cheeks, occasionally disappearing under the fabric of your t-shirt to stroke your growing hot skin.

“maybe. or maybe i’ll just devour you right here, right now.” he purrs. you shuffle on his lap to get comfy, your core throbbing and stomach tingling. your fingers dig into his shoulder blades as a way to help ground yourself.

“devour me? how?” you play dumb. your body tingles with pleasure. your core is throbbing and you can feel your slick being soaked up by your panties, creating an embarrassing wet spot.

“like this.” his seat falls back, taking you with him. in one swift moment, he manhandles you onto his face so you're straddling him. his large hands on your thighs, gripping them with force.

“baby!” you peer down at your hazy boyfriend, his head between your legs. you feel his breath fanning against your clothed core, the dampness in your panties intensifying with each puff of air.

“what?” he says nonchalantly. 

“you're unbelievable!” you squeak in embarrassment. the lewd position you're in makes you feel bashful; even though it's not your first time like this with him but it is a first in public.

“and you smell good.” he groans. his long finger trails from your thigh, to your inner thigh and to your clothed core. he presses his finger against your core, against the wet patch on the fabric and hums in satisfaction.

“you're wet.” he states, feeling somewhat cocky and proud. “i haven't done anything and you're wet.”

“s-shut up! you don't have to state it. gosh, this is so embarrassing.” you whine.

“not embarrassing. hot. so fucking hot. you have no idea the effect you have on me, yn.” he peers up at you, his foxlike eyes boring into your soul. he turns his head slightly, planting open mouth kisses on your inner thigh, closing in on your core.

he runs his finger in between your folds, adding a bit of pressure when his finger bumps against your now swollen clit. with each bump, your thighs jerk and twitch. jeongin can feel you throb against his finger.

his own cock throbs at the sight, touch and smell of you. it's begging to be free–and it will be in due time.

“wanna taste.” he mumbles as he hooks his finger on one side of your panties and pulls the flimsy fabric to the side. if it wasn't for his patience being paper thin, he would’ve ripped them off you. the very sight and smell of you is driving him insane and it hurts. the cold air mixes and hits your slick folds, making you gasp. “holy fuck.” 

you watch your hazy boyfriend lick his lips as if he is about to devour a meal. he brings your hips forward a little more. you buck at the sudden contact of his warm and wet tongue being pressed against your cunt.

“j-jeongin.” you moan out softly. he grabs the hem of your t-shirt, bringing it up to your lips.

“hold this.” he instructs against your folds. you bite down on your t-shirt, the fabric rises up and exposes your soft stomach and breasts.

his tongue is back on your cunt, lapping your slick and core like a dog lapping up water. he sucks and kisses your clit, rubbing the swollen bud occasionally with the tip of his tongue.

he grips onto your ass, pulling you down on his face more. you worry that you might crush him and try to resist but his strength overpowers you. 

hot open mouth kisses on your cunt. jeongin slurping and panting like a dog in heat. his hips bucking in the air as he eats you, gathering your slick on his tongue. he whimpers and moans at the taste, his rough hands keeping all your weight on his face as you crush his skull.

your legs tense around him several times. his tongue slips between your folds and into your core. jeongin is a mess. a panting, pussy drunk mess as he tongue fucks your core until you’re sobbing. 

once confident that you’re going to keep all your weight on him, he removes his hands from your ass. his large hands slide up the softness of your stomach to under your breasts where he grabs them roughly, one in each hand, to squeeze and toy with them.

your moans are muffled by your t-shirt. a damp patch forming from your saliva as you struggle to keep the fabric between your lips. your hands have found their way to jeongin's hair, pulling and tugging at the strands.

the air in the car is thick. the windows misting over with condensation. you don't want to be loud but you want to be at the same time.

the thrill of knowing that you're in public, having you pussy eaten by your boyfriend who is completely pussy drunk and fucked out because of you makes you tingle.

one of jeongin's hands leaves your breast to reach behind you. you hear him fumbling with his jeans, struggling to unbutton and unzip them. he grunts in frustration before lifting his hips up to pull down his jeans and underwear halfway down his thighs.

he shivers as his hand wraps around the base of his throbbing cock. he squeezes a few times before rubbing his thick, veiny cock. he treats himself by rubbing his pink head with his thumb, smearing the over flowing pre cum around his sensitive head.

he's a mess. you're a mess. his chin and lips are coated in saliva and slick. your body is hot and coated in sweat. the stimulation of everything is too much for you. you feel light and woozy but you don’t want the pleasure to stop. jeongin tries to time the strokes of his hand with the thrusts of his tongue inside you but he fails quickly, becoming uncoordinated and sloppy.

“not gonna last long. ’m sensitive.” he mumbles. you nod, unable to speak as you feel the same. your stomach is tight, a knot forming very quickly. his tongue leaves your hole to lick between your folds, his nose bumping against your clit.

you're just a sobbing mess. tears spilling for the corners of your eyes. your thighs crushing his skull. hands not knowing where to be placed for stability so you settled with one hand on the roof of the car and the other on the window, leaving a handprint behind in the condensation.

your only thought is how much (and how badly) you want to cum.

jeongin is no different. his cock is hot to the touch. tip sensitive and begging to be inside you. his hand isn't enough for him to feel satisfied and he knows it, but he wants to wait until he gets home to have his way with you.

“close.” he groans. as you open your mouth to talk, your t-shirt falls back down.

“m-me too.. oh fuck, me too.” you kick your head back, succumbing to the pleasure. you rock your hips a little on jeongin's face, a smirk on his face as he watches you lose yourself in the pleasure he's providing.

“you're so fucking hot, yn. look at you riding my face like a good girl.” his words are muffled but it's loud enough for you to hear. you can't respond however, just nod and moan at his words..

“feels good. feels so good, baby. wanna cum.”

“want to cum on my face? make a mess outta me?”

“yes. i do. want to make a mess on you.” you beg.

“go ahead. do it. cum for me, yn.” the coil in your stomach tightens and snaps. your thighs shake as your orgasm hits you hard, knocking the air out of your lungs and making you see stars. you cry out his name like a mantra, jeongin lapping at your core to catch your essence that spills from you.

his hand picks up in pace before soon, his own hips buck and cock throbs as he cums onto his own hand and stomach. slow, languid strokes of his cock to help ride out his high as he licks you clean before the high subsides; leaving you both breathless and exhausted.

you lift yourself up and off his face the best your jelly legs can muster. you look down at him, shivering as that look in his eyes from earlier is still there.

“we need to go home. now.” he instructs in urgency.

“are you ok?” 

“no. i’m not. it still hurts, yn.” you look behind you to see his hand still stroking his cock, which has failed to go soft from his orgasm; but now it's angry. sticky sounds emit from his cock as he uses his own mess to stroke himself.

“jeongin…” you start only to be cut off.

“yn. i don't think you understand the urgency of my situation. if you don't drive home right this second, i am going to drag you onto my lap and fuck you until you can't walk in the morning.” 

you swallow at his words. they go straight to your core. 

“that.. doesn't sound like a bad idea..” you mumble, looking at your, now somewhat sober, boyfriend.

“i don't think you un–”

“no, i understand.” you mumble, removing his hand from his cock. you shimmy down to line yourself up, holding the base and rubbing his tip between your soaked folds. “and i don't mind. we've come this far, so why stop now?”

“...fuck.” he holds onto your waist as you slowly lower yourself onto his member. his size stretches you, and because of your earlier orgasm, you're tighter than usual. 

he hisses as he shieths himself in your tight cunt. the warmth and tightness makes him stop breathing for a nanosecond. he watches his length disappear and become encapsulated with delicious warmth.

“just know–hng, fuck!–just know that you can't go back on your words. it's going to be a long night for you, yn.”

[sillyuin]

Searching you

Genre: hurt/comfort, angts ??, very domestic fluff.

Pairing: Seungcheol x gn!reader.

Warnings: Reader is ill, couple arguments, crying, scoups being a walking green flag.

- Yuin’s note: At this point it is no longer necessary to say that every time I get sick, I write something that completely reflects how I feel.

Seungcheol knows how individual you are and respects that. He understands that you like to do things on your own, how difficult it is for you to ask for help, and even thought he is very proud of you, he will not hesitate to help when the opportunity arises.

However, that day he did not feel very proud. Seungcheol had returned from running some errands and when he entered the dining room, the first thing he saw was an unpleasant surprise. You were slumped over the table, your arms crossed as a pillow, with a thick blanket over your body.

He set the groceries down on the counter and approached, careful not to wake you up, but he barely got closer when you raised your head with clear agitation.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it,” he said, almost in a whisper. “What are you doing here? You should be resting.”

“Waiting for you…” you replied in a broken tone, looking down at the table.

Seungcheol pressed his lips together with frustration, and when he tried to place his hand on your shoulder, you shook him off a bit roughly, turning your face away to avoid seeing him. But that didn’t stop him.

“y/n,” his voice sounded kind and firm at the same time, but it became steady when you shrugged your shoulders and ignored him. “I’m talking to you, look at me.”

You pushed the chair back with a heavy noise, standing up to face him as if confronting an enemy. Not even his concerned gaze made you tremble; in fact, it might have made you even angrier.

“Where the hell did you go?” you asked, raising your voice slightly.

“I went to buy medicine and something for you to eat,” he replied calmly, trying his best to not pay attention to your irritable behavior.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You took a step forward as if you wanted to intimidate him, but Seungcheol stood his ground.

“I wanted to, but you couldn’t sleep last night because of the fever,” Cheol took a step forward trying to reach out to you; however, you stepped back two paces, curling up a bit under the blankets. He swallowed hard. “You needed to rest.”

“That’s just an excuse,” the sad tone of your voice reached Cheol’s ears like a loud noise, and your tear-filled eyes made his hands tremble in a mix of panic and confusion. “I needed you, and you left me!”

A heavy silence filled the apartment. Seungcheol looked at you with a downcast gaze, unsure of what to do. He felt rejected. He was trying to respect your space, your feelings and your illness. The only thing that mattered to him was you to be okay, even if it meant swallowing his pride and pleasing you.

However, his heart skipped a beat when he felt a familiar weight on his shoulder, as you were wrapping your arms around his waist in a desperate attempt to hug him.

He embraced you gently, placing one arm over your shoulders and using the other to pull the blankets away, gripping your waist to draw you closer to him. Your body was trembling with fever, so weak that you couldn’t even cry; still, you clung to him like the world’s gonna end, resting your face against his shoulder as the tears started to flow by itself.

After a few minutes, you regained your breath and barely pulled back to look into Cheol’s eyes, letting him wipe your face with the sleeve of his sweater. He felt that if he broke the hug, you would too, and kept his hold on as the moment lingered.

“I had a nightmare,” you said, tightening your hands around his torso. “I woke up scared, shaking, and when I saw that you weren’t there, I got angry.”

“I'm sorry,” he replied, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“No, I'm sorry,” you rested your face back on his shoulder, adjusting the hug a bit. He instinctively did the same. “I got mad, and you were just trying to help. You’re a sweetheart.”

Cheol smiled, leaving a little kiss on your shoulder. “I think the fever went up, your skin is burning and you’re saying weird things.”

A slight whine made him chuckle softly. “Why are you never serious?”

Seungcheol moved back a little, holding your face between his hands, giving you a big smile, and finally kissing you on the forehead.

“Don’t you like how I am?” He raised an eyebrow, making a face that made you laugh.

“No… I love you just the way you are.”

Cheol gave you another peck on the forehead before picking up the blanket from the floor and guiding you toward the bed. He went to the kitchen to fetch some medicine along with a glass of water, and as he returned to the room, you were sitting at the edge of the bed waiting for him.

“you're so stubborn” he said in a resigned tone and huffed, making you laugh. He was happy to see you in that state despite the sickness.

After taking your pills, you curled up in the blankets. Seungcheol sat on the floor, his arms crossed over the bed with his chin resting on them, wanting to stay by your side until he was sure you were asleep, no matter how long it took.

Your eyes slowly opened, and when you saw him, you couldn’t help the shy smile that spread across your face. You reached out your hand towards him and he took it, tenderly kissing your knuckles.

“Thanks for everything,” you closed your eyes again and squeezed his hand. “You really are a sweetheart.”

“You make me one” He smiled to himself as he pecked your knuckles once more. “I love you.”

[p1astr81]

nothing special -fc43

in which: Franco’s flirting with the journalists almost causes him to lose something dear.

pairing: Franco Colapinto x journalist!fem!reader

warnings: angst, fluff (at the very end), Franco being clueless and stupid, borderline emotional cheating, not proof read (sorry!!), use of y/n

an: sorry this is so late I’ve been sick and it’s also exam week. n e way, ty to everyone who has been patiently waiting ♡︎

‧‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Franco was a flirt. It was in his blood. It happened without him even thinking about it. Like an instinct. Everyone was sure that flirting was his fuel, like it was his coffee in the morning.

You always thought his persistent flirting during interviews was quite funny. You would remain professional while he tried every trick in the book to get you to break. It never happened, and it massively intrigued him.

He begun to purposefully flirt with you, and eventually worked up the courage to ask you out.

That was two months ago, and you’d been dating since. You thought your relationship was good, and while it may have been too early to say, you felt secure. Well, up until your conversation with Marie.

Marie, one of your journalist friends, walked along with you through the paddock. “Franco has a serious flirting problem. I thought he would have stopped after I agreed to that date with him but I think if anything, he’s more persistent.” You laughed, but it actually worried you a little. While there wasn’t any threat to your position yet, you felt a looming anxious feeling that your boss would eventually do something about his very public displays.

“Oh that’s just him. He flirts with all of the journalists.” Marie let out a small chuckle. Your face fell, your steps faltered. “What do you mean?” You were hesitant with your inquiries. Her words insinuated a fact you did not want to face. “Well, you didn’t think it was just you, did you? I know you’re dating and all, but before that—and even now—he still flirts with like all the girls.” Marie spoke to you in a tone that suggested the fact was common knowledge. Maybe it was, but you still weren’t aware of it.

You felt totally blind sighted. Betrayal twisted in your gut, swirling the contents of your lunch and threatening to force them back up. “I’ll… I’ll catch up with you later.” You fumbled to excused yourself from the conversation and ran the last few meters to your car.

In the solitude, you didn’t know what to do. Were you to scream? Cry? Curse the air? “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.” You chose to be angry, hitting the steering wheel with every word. “How could you be so stupid?” You grip the wheel, your head falling forward to rest your forehead on the top of the faux leather. “Of course this would happen.” You laugh pathetically to yourself. “Of course!” You gasp, tossing yourself back against the seat. Your arms thrown out to the side. “He’s hot. He’s famous now. I’m just a journalist!” You had not realized you started crying until the hot streams steadily flowed down your face. You flipped the visor down to peer at yourself in its mirror. “Why would he want you?” You stare through your own eyes, trying to find an answer to your question, but doubt had already infected every region of your brain and you couldn’t see past it.“Stupid.” You muttered under your breath, and shoved the visor back up.

In silence, you drove yourself back to your hotel. You just wanted to shower the events of the day away, and bury yourself into your notes.

As you were flipping through your notes and rewatching the clips from the prologued media day, your phone began to buzz.

You left him on read. His obliviousness had started to irritate you. It wasn’t fair to you. He couldn’t have it both ways. He couldn’t have you and still flirt with other women. It was borderline emotional cheating.

He was one floor away. You could confront him in person, but you had no proof. You had no proof. It hit you then that you were believing Maria’s words without an ounce of proof, just a belief on the base of friendship. You opened a new tab on your laptop, quickly searching Franco’s name. You selected the first video of him that came up, a spark of hope in you that Maria had been lying.

However, that spark quickly diffused. Within the first twenty seconds of the interview, Franco was flirting with the journalist. To make matters worse, she was a journalist you were acquainted with, one you knew he had seen you chat with on numerous occasions.

You were just another journalist. You were nothing special to him.

This time, it wasn’t betrayal that overrode your senses. It was anger that ignited a fire in your stomach. Anger at the audacity. Anger at your own stupidity and obliviousness. Anger at this acquaintance.

You shut the laptop in one forceful shove.

———

Friday came quickly after a tireless sleep. You stood in the media pen as the drivers gave you dull answers to your questions about free practice. It didn’t affect you that much, as your eyes kept drifting to find the boy adorned in his deep blue fireproof shirt.

Often times your eyes only absorbed his bored figure, his eyes darting everywhere but the journalist who was wringing him for answers. The other times though, you’d caught him in the act, his body language unmistakable. The kind of body language that could only be accompanied by flirty words and that charming smile—which only ever made an appearance when he was flirting.

Dread burdened you, weighing heavy on your heart. “You okay?” Alexs body was stretched past the barrier, and he asked the question lowly so the mic wouldn’t pick up his voice. You realized you’d left him in silence for more time than what was considered professional.

Alex and you have gotten closer through your relationship with Franco, nearly close enough for you to comfortably call him a friend.

“Yeah, sorry. Spaced out.�� You laughed, trying to brush it off, but the sound came out nervous and laden with the dread that caused your heart to ache.

Alex wasn’t stupid. He’d followed your eyes and seen the disappointment that clouded your expression. He refused to comment on it then and there, only bringing it up to Franco in private.

“Did something happen between you and y/n?” Alex questioned his teammate. They stood together in the back of the garage while the team finished up their duties for the day. “No. Why? Did she say something to you? I think she’s avoiding me.” Franco spoke quickly, hoping to squeeze an explanation out of his teammate.

“She didn’t say anything,” Alex started, to which Franco huffed. “But when she was interviewing me, she was completely zoned in on you, but she looked…” Alex tried to find the word to describe your expression. “Upset? Like with the look on her face, my first thought was that the two of you broke up.”

Franco scoured his memories for whatever event would have caused you to act in such a way. To look at him with such an expression. He could only shrug, completely clueless. “I don’t know. But last night she was making excuses not to come over, and this morning when I asked her if she wanted to eat breakfast together, she made more excuses.” Your distance frustrated Franco. Sure, he saw you in the media pen, and in the paddock, but he had to keep things somewhat professional there. He couldn’t be affectionate.

Alex sighed and clapped Franco on the shoulder. “I think you’re gonna just have to corner her, mate.”

———

It was not his intention to be creepy. But by standing outside what was seemingly a random person’s hotel room, he definitely achieved that.

You rounded the corner of the hotel’s hallways. You were rapidly typing something on your phone, unaware of his presence just a few meters away.

To not startle you completely, he softly called your name. Your footsteps ceased, your eyes wide as they stared at him. After a moment, your expression changed from one of shock, to one of distaste. From where you stood, you dug your keycard from your bag. You ignored him, brushing past him to let yourself into the room.

He stopped the door before it closed on him. “Y/n come on. You’ve been avoiding me all day.” Franco pleaded with you. You laughed bitterly. “Yeah, it’s on purpose.” You muttered, tossing your bag onto the bed. “But why, amor? What have I done?” He followed you with his eyes, watching as you stood as far away from him as possible. “You’ve made me look like a fool!” You exclaimed. Your eyes, glaring at him with a terrifying level of ferocity, were covered with a sheen of tears.

Franco’s expression twisted into a look of confusion, which only fueled your fury. “How- I don’t understand?”

“You’ve been flirting with every other journalist! And everyone sees it. Do you realize how humiliating that is for me?” A tear ran hot and slow down your cheek. You didn’t bother wiping it away.

“Flirting with…” Franco sighs, “the only journalist I flirt with is you.” He took a step forward, but didn’t dare to progress any further as your hand shot up to stop him. You swallowed the knot in your throat. “I was really hoping you’d just own up to it.” You tell him quietly, your disappointment palpable. You took your laptop from the back, typing something quickly. “Tell that to the videos.” You tossed the laptop on the bed to face him. He watched his own face on the screen as he flirted with a woman who wasn’t his girlfriend.

Franco never even realized he’d been flirting.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. I had no idea.” He confessed. She laughed at his apology. “No idea? Come on, you can think of a better excuse than that.” She shot back harshly. She crossed her arms over her chest, physically closing herself off from him.

“I’m honest!” He pleaded. “It was fully accidental. I would’ve never done that to you on purpose.” He shook his head with fervor, trying to make her understand. “You remember how I was when I flirted with you! I was a mess, fumbling over my words.” He continued, but it did little to convince her.

She shook her head. “Just leave, Franco.” She instructed, her voice quiet but firm.

He froze. His heartbeat slowing to a dull, stagnant rhythm. His body felt heavy, as if someone replaced all of his blood with lead. “Are you— ending this? breaking up with me?” He shook his head, not wanting to believe it himself.

She considered the question for a moment. “No. But I need time.”

“So… a break?” Franco’s voice cracked.

“I don’t know.” She took a deep, shaky breath. “Just go, please.”

“Y/n-“

“Franco.”

The firmness in her voice got his body moving again. The last thing he wanted was to upset her, so he did as she requested. Without another word, he exited her hotel room.

———

It had been week. A long, agonizing, painfully lonely, and miserable week.

He missed her texts. The morning and night ones, and all those in between. Including the daily updates about whatever seemingly mundane activity she was conducting.

He missed her voice. Her laugh. Her jokes.

At least he got to see her face, even if it was from across the paddock. Even if it hurt him. It hurt him to see you. His stomach lurched, a crippling pain blooming inside his stomach at the sight of you. On top of that, it felt like someone had a white-knuckle grip on his heart.

It made him come to the scariest of realizations, one he would never admit this early on. Especially not when things between you two felt over.

To make matters worse, you had to interview him.

“Quite a decent Friday for you and the team. Do you think you can continue the momentum into tomorrow?”

It was terrifying to him, the way you looked right through him. Like he was every other driver here. Like he was nothing special to you. He pushed down all of his feelings, forcing himself to be professional for once.

“Uhm,” unwillingly, his voice cracked. He quickly cleared his throat. “Yeah, definitely. I think the car is well suited for the track, so we’ll definitely try and get through to the last of qualifying tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Franco.” He frowned, usually you’d have more than one question for him. At least three at the minimum. But you’d turned around and started conversing with your camera guy. He supposed it made sense, but it still hurt.

———

Somehow, Franco went the whole weekend without cornering you and forcing you to give you guys a label, whether it be broken up or on a break. He needed a definitive name for what was going on. He needed you to define the boundaries.

So he found you in the paddock club, sitting by yourself with a coffee cup in front of you. Silently, he took the empty seat across from you. You looked up, and took a shaky breath at the sight of him. You tried to stand and bolt out of there but he was quick to grab hold of your hand. “Y/n, please. I just need to know what we are now.” He pleaded, his voice so low that you nearly missed his words.

You glanced at your surroundings. “Can we go somewhere more private?” You felt too exposed to have this conversation here. Too many peering eyes. Franco nodded quickly.

He led you to his driver’s room, the thought to lock the door crossing his mind but he didn’t want to freak you out, so he kept the lock undone.

“I don’t know what we are.” You confessed with a deep sigh. “I know, and that’s killing me.” Franco muttered and sat on the physio bed. “I don’t know if I can talk to you, or text you, or call you, or even look in your direction.” He fiddled with his fingers. Like he said, he wasn’t sure if he could look at you.

You leaned against the wall across from him, crossing your arms over your chest. “You hurt me. You humiliated me. You made me feel like I was worthless. Like I was nothing special to you.” The disclosure wasn’t intended to hurt him, or incite pity in him. You just wanted him to understand.

He nodded. “I know. I know. And I’m so sorry for that. It was fully my fault and I can’t change what I did, and I know that. And you’re so so special to me. More than you know.” It was impossible to describe just how much he cared for you without dropping those three little words on you. “If you want to break up, or want a break, I get it. But I- I don’t want that.” He met your eyes. His big brown eyes silently pleaded with you. His puppy look was always impossible to resist.

You pushed off the wall, stepping to stand in front of him. “I don’t want that either.” You told him honestly. His big brown eyes looked up at you and glimmered with hope. “But it might take me a little time for me to trust you again.” A subtle smile outlined Franco’s lips. “So… we’re still…?” He was hesitant with his words, leaving the labels up to you. “Boyfriend—girlfriend?” You suggested. His smile broadened. He gave a subtle nod.

“Yes.” You answered simply.

[yanderefarm]

Can I request Emil catching one of his maids flirting with us

yandere king emil

cw;; violence, stalking, yandere stuff, manipulation

im gonna post this bc i don't think its bad per-say but i don't know if it fits exactly what you wanted. if you're not satisfied feel free to send your request again!!

i don't really imagine this as the reader being oblivious but more like looking past all the obvious red flags because they thought they had a friend who could understand them better than the other people around them including emil.

also im a whore for rofan manhwa bullshit. please check off "cartoonishly evil maid/noble woman minor love rival" on your bingo cards.

usually emil wouldn't feel threatened by the lower class, obviously you wouldn't be interested in them. except you are.

he notices it first when she comes into your shared bedroom in the morning. she's not the usual maid and the way she goes about pouring the morning tea is atrocious, probably because her eyes are glued to your half dressed body. you smile at her and thank her even though she spilled some of your tea with her gawking. when emil mentions dismissing her for her unacceptable behavior you just brush it off saying she was just nervous.

apparently that day the normal maid was sick. and she's still sick a week later. you're currently in the garden trying your hand at some embroidery but you're not very good at it. emil watches from his office window as that maid comes up and offers to help you. you are too excited to accept her help, can't you see she just wants something from you? he finds himself hoping she accidentally pricks you with the needle so he can have a good excuse to kill her. she didn't.

then there's the bath incident. usually he likes taking baths together but you wanted to be alone. that would be fine if he hadn't just watched that annoying maid slip into the bath room. he finds himself following her. the bath room is full of steam as you soak in the hot water making it hard for emil to see anything exactly. but he'd recognize your relaxed form anywhere. the maid steps through the thick steam and asks if you want her to apply some new oils to your hair. its something she found at a market and its supposed to be relaxing lavender. its technically her job to do these tasks so emil can only watch in frustrated silence as she gets to run her fingers through your hair. you smell like her for the rest of the night and god it makes him angry.

every time he sees you with her his stomach twists in anger. he can't be angry with you, you're a kind person and you've proven it time and time again. but this maid. she doesn't deserve your kindness, she doesn't deserve to gently touch your arm, she doesn't deserve to laugh with you. he's asked you what you think of her and you tell him it's so nice to have a friend and how apparently she was born in your home kingdom before moving here. it makes him want to kill her even more. but he holds back because you're just so happy.

finally she goes too far. you're outside excitedly talking to her about a new book you read. you showed him that one too but he didn't share your excitement for the story. not like she was. he wanted to run over there, to run her through with his sword. but he couldn't stop it. he watched helplessly as she touched your arm again and with a blushing face she shyly confessed her feelings. he watched her try to kiss you. he watched the way your face changed from shock to horror. your eyes darted around until they landed on him, you always knew he was nearby if you needed him.

apparently she'd lied about being from your home country to get closer to you. apparently she'd learned your native tongue at another job and used it to manipulate you. apparently she heard a rumor that you would take concubines and she saw it as her chance to climb the ranks. emil was standing behind her, his blade through her chest and his eyes dark with anger. you stood there with tears in your eyes looking at him with so much hurt.

emil isn't lenient with maids that flirt with you anymore. they get a warning from the head maid and if they continue the behavior then emil reserves the right to punish as he sees fit. its not always violent, sometimes he just sentences them to jail for 10 years.