#LOOK AT HIS COSY LITTLE JUMPER!

[fastandcarlos]

When You Fall Asleep On Him In The Paddock : ̗̀➛ F1 Reaction

» Max Verstappen

Whenever you fall asleep on Max he always becomes very protective and tries his very best to shield you. He tends to move his arm around you and hold onto you in his side, keeping nice and careful with his movements to make sure that he doesn’t wake you. If anyone dares look at you if you’re asleep with people around you he sends them a firm glare to mind their business, usually wrapping his jumper around you to hide you as best you can and make you that little more comfortable. “I’ve got you,” he would whisper every single time you stirred to assure you that you were alright.

» Charles LeClerc

He actively encourages you to fall asleep when you start yawning at the paddock, because he loves to hold onto you no matter where the two of you are. “It’s alright,” he’d smile whenever your anxious eyes looked at him to make sure it was really alright. Charles would tap his shoulder and invite you to rest your hand, with you unaware of the wide smile on his face above you. He’s happy to sit for as long as you need him to, making the most of your comforting presence holding tightly onto him before having to go out and race.

» Lando Norris

Whenever you fall asleep on him, Lando gets incredibly shy. He knows that people are watching him and preparing their lines to tease him later when you’re out of earshot. He’s happy to take it though as it means that you’re able to rest beside him. When he thinks no one is watching him Lando will lean down and press a kiss against the top of your head or run his hand along the length of your back to help you fall asleep. If he’s honest, he loves the attention he gets when you fall asleep as it means everyone gets to see what a dutiful boyfriend he really is.

» Carlos Sainz

There’s always a bit of worry with Carlos when he sees you falling asleep as he doesn’t want to have to be the one to wake you up when his schedule calls. To start with he’ll try and resist you, but that never usually lasts long as your eyes pleadingly look up at him. “I can’t say no to you, can I?” He huffs, opening his body for you to curl up into his side and close your eyes for a while. Once he sees how cosy you are he knows it’s the right thing to do, even if only half an hour later he has to do the cruel job of slowly shaking you awake again.

» George Russell

When he can tell that you’re getting sleepy George will immediately whisk you off into his drivers room so that you can rest comfortably. He hates people watching you sleep, especially when your head is in his lap, much preferring to give you privacy. George will pull the curtains and make the bed before laying down and letting you tuck into his side. “What about work?” You whisper when you notice him settling down beside you to have a nap himself. “Work can wait,” he reassures you as he wraps his arm around your frame.

» Lewis Hamilton

He has everyone looking after you when you fall asleep, asking some of the staff around the garage to get a pillow and a blanket to make you feel as comfortable as possible. Lewis wouldn’t dare move when you’re asleep out of fear of disturbing you, and has been known to bring meetings to him so that he doesn’t disturb your sleep either. When the pillow arrives he delicately lifts your head and places it under before draping the blanket over you if you’re at one of the chillier races too, happy to let you lay for as long as you need to.

» Daniel Ricciardo

There’s a smug feeling with Daniel whenever you fall asleep on him, like it’s a statement to remind everyone just how happy you are in your relationship. He’s happy to show off the fact that you’re asleep on him and let people see how much of a comfort having him there is for you. If anyone offers to free up a space for you Daniel will decline, he knows that the only thing that you need to help you fall asleep is him. He’d stay there all day if he could whenever you’re asleep, much preferring to be with you then do any of the other boring bits of the job.

» Oscar Piastri

He’s a pretty shy man at the best of times, but you falling asleep on him in the paddock just about tips Oscar over the edge, especially when there’s a camera or two around. As soon as he sees that camera shutter go down he knows exactly what will be on the front pages the following morning, and although he’s anxious about what will come, knowing that you’re resting is all that matters to Oscar. With how hard you’re working he’d let you sleep anywhere, even if it ends up with him being titled as the softest boy in the paddock.

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ��ˎ˗

any feedback, comments or reblogs are always appreciated ✨

[reignpage]

Movie Night

Summary: in which alien!reader asks Gojo to teach her a little something Word Count: 1.8k Warnings: smut, not proofread

Day 7

“What’s wrong, E?”

All fresh from a shower, you and Satoru are sitting in the sofa, watching a movie. He’s finally bought you your own clothes and you’re dressed in a warm jumper and cosy pants. Satoru won’t lie; he’s grieving the pleasure of seeing you drown in his clothes. But you were ecstatic at the sight of the space themed pjs and so he was left with nothing to do but he happy. 

Wrapped under a thick blanket, you’re huddled by his side, clutching his shirt. As with every movie, every night, you ask questions, and he answers as best as he can. He’s insanely grateful that you can understand him when he explains things like what a car is (a moving vehicle) or who Gordon Ramsey is (a famous chef known for being very wrinkly and very angry). It seems that your biggest issue, however, is stringing a full sentence together. 

You’ve been getting much better, accelerating at a rate no human could manage. It’s both impressive and terrifying. 

Right now, you’re tilting your head at a particular scene. Satoru forgot the plot of the money and he really regrets not keeping an eye out for the age rating, because on the screen plays a steamy, kiss scene. 

In fact, ‘kiss’ isn’t even the right word; they’re making out. 

How you both managed to last a week of doing nothing but watch movies without coming across a kiss scene he’ll never know. But the moment’s finally arrived and he is not any more prepared than he was on the first night.

He winces at the sound lips smacking against each other, a blush on his cheeks. A kiss is nothing -- he’s done far more than that, and multiple times. But, for some reason, he’s feeling a little shy. It might have something to do with the fact that you’re staring up at him with your big, curious eyes. 

“What they doing?” You ask. 

Satoru gulps. He’s become painfully aware of how close you are — his arm is trapped between your breasts, just a thin layer separating him from your soft flesh, and, under the blanket, your leg is strung ever so slightly on his thigh. He can smell his shampoo emanating from you with something sweet coursing just under that masculine scent. 

Chuckling uncomfortably, he explains, “They’re kissing.”

“Why?”

He has half a mind to turn the TV off and declare an earlier bedtime, but you look so innocent he feels bad that he was thinking of something indecent. He’s your friend. He can’t prey on you and take advantage of your reliance on him. Plus, how would a kiss between two people from different intergalactic species even work?

Would it be the same? Or does it lead to pregnancy straight away? What if you lay eggs in his mouth? What if he lays eggs in your mouth?

Composing himself, he searches for the right words. “It’s something people do to express their love for each other, I guess. Well, not all the time, actually. Sometimes it’s just for pleasure.”

“Pleasure?”

Why, oh, why did you have to focus on that one word? 

And why on everything that is good in this world is this scene so long?

“It means to feel good.”

The hand clutching his shirt flattens out until it’s feeling the hard planes of his chest and absorbing the vibrations of his heartbeat. You drum your fingers at the same pace, smiling softly. The heat of your hand, of your entire body, is setting his skin alight. Suddenly, it’s too hot under the blanket, there isn’t enough room or air, and he needs to go but he can’t bear to. 

Batting your lashes, you inquire, “How to make pleasure, Toru? How kiss feel good?”

Brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, he corrects you, “It’s, ‘how does kissing make you feel good’, E. Try again for me?”

You taste the words, lips stretching to practice the movement before you parrot back perfectly, “Tell me how kissing makes you feel good, Toru.”

Oh, fuck. 

Why did he make you repeat it in perfect Japanese? Why did he have to use this very moment as a learning opportunity? 

Curse his perfect teaching instincts!

He’s about to shrug you off, using sleepiness as an excuse to retreat, but then you’re leaning even closer, licking your lips and eyeing his. Warmth is spreading through his body, circulating in one particular area and he’s hoping you don’t move your leg any higher otherwise this will turn into a completely different conversation and he’s not certain he could survive giving you an anatomy lesson without getting a nosebleed. 

Licking his own lips, he grazes your cheek with his fingers. The skin he touches glows the very faintest hint of blue. He’s reeling. Up till now, he thought that your skin glows when you’re sleeping, but apparently you also glow when you’re being touched. But this isn’t the first time he’s touched you. 

Was it because before he was trying very, very hard not to stare?

He doesn’t know, and regardless, he can’t stop touching you. Satoru presses on your adorable cheeks to watch it light up, the way his is flushing red. Whispering, he asserts, “I can’t tell you how kissing feels, E.” 

Your hand presses harder against his chest, fingers splaying across the expanse. Subconsciously, he juts it out just a little. And with the most seductive voice, you demand, “Show me then, Toru. Make me feel good?”

Oh, and when you ask like that, how could anyone ever resist you?

There’s a tantalising closeness between you, just a hairsbreadth away from touching. When he finally closes that minuscule gap, a purr like thrum echoes through you. He kisses you, sweet and gentle, simply pressing his lips against yours. There’s nothing human about this, not with the invigorating taste of you, the scalding feel of your skin, and impossible softness of your body on his. 

“This is a kiss?” You mumble.

Chuckling, he says, “No, E. This is.”

With one hand holding the back of your neck, he sucks your bottom lip, unable to help himself from deepening the kiss. You gasp into his mouth, and he dives his tongue in, meeting yours. He knows he should slow down, should let you adjust to a friendly peck before he takes more than you can give, but you taste so good and it’s like he’s drunk. 

There’s a force, a gravitation pull drawing him in. He can’t resist it, can’t fight it, he isn’t even trying. 

You pull back in shock. 

Satoru chases after you, dragging you back in. He kisses you again. Groaning into your mouth, he slides a hand down to your leg, rising up your thigh. You jolt, a shiver running through your body. That electrifying purring hums in the air again and he’s smiling, hand rising and rising until he’s curving against your ass and carrying you over his thighs.

“This feels... I feel...,” you whimper, at a loss for words. 

Squeezing your thighs, he coos, “It’s alright, sweet thing. I’ve got you. You wanted to learn pleasure, right? Who better to teach you than Toru, hmm?”

You shiver again when he whispers that against your neck, nose skimming your jaw and lips curling. He’s inhaling deeply, eyes fluttering close at the weight of your body pressing down on him and your addictive scent. 

He can’t tell if this is all you or if it’s an alien thing, but he doesn’t care. Not in this moment, not when your hips are churning as he sucks at your neck, laying burning kisses against your skin, and watching the blue light dance under your skin. 

“Oh, E,” he sighs. “Are you grinding on me, baby? You want more than just a kiss, is that it? My greedy, greedygirl.”

When your clothed core rubs just right against his throbbing length, you throw your head back, that purring noise a hiss and it vibrates against his cheek as he listens to your rapid heartbeat. He can feel how wet you are; you’re soaking through your panties and pyjama bottoms.

Satoru’s growing dizzy.

One hand guides your hips to gyrate on him whilst the other clutches your throat to pull your lips back to his. Satoru knows he should stop now that he’s already taught you what you asked for, but he can’t. He just can’t. The thrill of going further, of testing your, and his, limits is too much for one man to resist. Even if that man is the strongest sorcerer in the world, even if not a whole gaggle of curses could pose a threat to him. 

“Toru!”

He thrusts upwards the same time he tugs you down and the elongated moan that leaves you, hips stuttering and hands frantically searching for purchase on his broad shoulders, leaves him feeling lightheaded. “That’s it, E. Take what you need.”

Your eyes are flashing blue, a darker hue than his own, and he’s amazed. Everything about you is incredible, like you were created to be his temptation, to be his undoing. Whether aliens have souls or not, he doesn’t know, but he does know that if you did, his and yours would be the same, all blue and perfect. 

Laughing, he leans back, hands simply resting on your thighs as you ride out your orgasm, shocked eyes pleading for explanation, for reason but finding none in his. That purring gets louder and louder, the vibrations stronger now and they’re flowing straight from your soaked pussy and right onto his cock. 

“Oh shit!” Satoru groans, nails digging suddenly. Within seconds, he’s cumming in his boxers, hot cream flooding his underwear from inside at the same time your wetness seeps through on top. “Jesus, E! That’s fucking intense, what the hell.”

He’s panting, eyes shut tightly as he keeps grinding your hips on his cock. 

You slump onto him just as he falls back. You’re completely depleted of energy, and he knows exactly what you’re feeling. Rubbing your back, he presses a kiss to your hair, muttering ‘well done’ and ‘good job’. 

“How was that for pleasure?”

Smacking his chest, you mumble a complaint. “Toru mean.”

He laughs agains.

“Sorry, E. You were just too cute.”

You raise your head, eyes bleary and fluttering shut. You meet his gaze, shaky fingers reaching for his lips and tracing them, all sore and pink, like you’re amazed at him the way he is at you. “Thank you. Kissing is nice.”

“We did a little more than just kissing, E. But sure, you’re welcome,” he chuckles. 

Eventually, you both fall asleep in each other’s arms right there on the sofa, ‘Are You Still Watching’ filling the TV screen and not the movie he can’t even remember the name of, drying cum posing a problem he’ll have to deal with in the morning.

He dreams of sapphire streaks in the air, of giant balls of fire, and an angel descending with its arms outstretched. And he hopes he never wakes up.

[finelinefae]

sick bug [tattooH x innocenty/n]

synopsis: y/n works too hard and harry just wants her to be okay

word count: 3.5k

contains: fluff

a/n: hope u enjoy the first of many blurbs for flower !!

. . .

Y/N never ever, ever gets sick.

Ever since she was a little girl she had always had a strong immune system and even when she had the slightest hint of a cold, she’d gulp down a few pills and get on with her day. 

It was a trait within her family to never let anything stop you from working, not even a sick bug. She distinctly remembers the first and only time she had caught something during high school. She had been one of the last people to catch a bug that had been travelling around groups of students and it just so happened to be during exam season. 

Despite the hammering headache and the constant shivers, she went straight to school to complete her exams after her mother had given her herbal medicine she couldn’t seem to name- that she believed had some kind of magical healing properties- and a packet of ibuprofen. 

Now that she ran a flower shop most days of the week, getting sick was a total inconvenience. There was always too much to do and not enough days in the week, so getting sick would just be a waste of time that could be used to get things done.

That’s what she kept telling herself, over and over, as she blew her nose into a tissue for the third time in the last ten minutes and swallowed two headache pills to ease the throbbing in her skull. 

She was arranging flowers into vases as customers wandered around the shop. Her eyes could barely focus on the flowers she was cutting and arranging; she was constantly taking them all out and starting again. What was meant to be four vases of perfectly arranged flowers, was only one. 

She was uncomfortably warm. Even though she had layered herself with three jumpers, she did so only because there were moments when she would suddenly feel cold and shivery. The heating was constantly up and down despite the fact it was the beginning of spring. 

This was another reason she couldn’t allow herself to get rest. Spring was the busiest season, flowers were beginning to bloom and people were rushing to buy new flowers for the season to decorate with or send to loved ones. 

There was just too much all at once and being sick was not allowed.

The morning had gone by in a blur - literally. Y/N couldn’t seem to remember who walked in and out of the shop too busy thinking about not throwing up every five minutes. It seemed the only person who could gain her attention as he walked past the shop window, was her tattooed boyfriend next door. 

She quickly pulled out her purse and took out a pressed powder to powder her nose with, hoping it would hide the redness of it. She stretched her cheeks and forced the biggest smile she possibly could when the bell rang and Harry stepped in through the door. 

In his hand, he had her bento lunchbox that he had prepared for her the night before like he always did because she seemingly always forgot to eat whenever she worked. “Hi flower,” His voice was like warm soup that soothed her belly. 

“Hi Harry,” She walked into his arms and nuzzled her face into his soft, fuzzy sweatshirt. He smelt like pine and ink and all the things she loved that made her feel warm and cosy. Her arms wrapped around his middle as her eyes fluttered shut, she could have drifted off as his hands pressed against her back, playing with the ends of her hair. 

“Y’ tired sweet girl?” He murmured, “Working so hard?” 

Y/N squeezed him tighter, wanting to mould herself into him so she’d never have to leave the comfort of his warmth, “Not really,” She lied, finally looking up at him. 

Harry held her face in his hands and brushed the pad of his thumb along her cheekbone, “Remember we’re going out tonight so don’t work too much,” He warned her, knowing she was prone to working herself too hard and passing out once they stepped into his or her apartment. 

Y/N’s stomach plummeted. She’d completely forgotten that Harry had asked her to come with him to a birthday dinner down at a bar that evening. She had made a mental note earlier in the week to pick out an outfit but had completely forgotten about the entire thing. She felt awful especially since Harry had been looking forward to introducing her to some of his friends and just spending time together in general. It was all the more reason why she had to hide her sickness, just until the end of the night. 

“I won’t,” She forced a smile, “For the rest of the day I’ll sit right here and won’t move a muscle,” 

Harry chuckled, “Yeah? Sit there and look pretty? Tha’s not so hard for you m’love,” His lips pressed against her forehead. She hoped he couldn’t feel how warm she was. “C’mon flower, made y’ favourite for lunch.” 

By the end of the day, Y/N had hoped she'd feel a bit better, enough to join dinner at least, but she felt even worse than she did in the morning. 

Her movements were slow as she closed the shop for another day, trying not to move so much or she’d feel her stomach turn. The mere idea of going out, let alone eating something with her upset stomach, made her feel queasy but she’d push through for Harry. 

She had little energy to tidy everything completely so she pushed it all to one side and switched the lights off before locking up. Harry wouldn’t be finished with work for another hour which gave her some time to pick out an outfit before the dinner party. 

With laboured breaths, she ascended the steps to her apartment, each step feeling heavier than the last, until finally, she reached her front door and pushed it open. Marshall rubbed against her leg as she tried to kick her shoes off of her aching feet, “Hi Marshy,” She mumbled, stumbling over to her bedroom and straight to her wardrobe. 

She plucked a few things off of the hangers, none of them matched or looked fancy enough for dinner, but she wanted something comfortable. Her eyes glanced at her bed as she held the dresses up before the mirror. It looked so inviting, all made up and cosy. She'd been longing for a nap all day and maybe if she took one now she’d gain some of her energy back for dinner. 

With a sigh, Y/N dropped the clothes on the floor and succumbed to the temptation of her bed. She pulled out her phone and set a timer for twenty minutes, knowing Harry wouldn’t be back before then. 

As she slipped under the covers, the warmth and comfort of her bed enveloped her. It was what she had been seeking all day - to cocoon herself in blankets and fall asleep so she didn’t have to deal with being sick. Her eyes fluttered shut and it wasn’t long before she drifted off into a much-needed nap, hoping it would ease the discomfort she had been feeling all day.

. . .

“Flower,” His voice was in her dreams, “Can y’ wake up f’ me a sec?” 

Y/N frowned, feeling something cool and damp pressed against her forehead. Soft kisses press against her exposed arm, “Harry?” She mumbled, her eyes slowly opening only to realise she wasn’t dreaming of him at all.

He was right there in front of her, sitting on the edge of her bed and pressing a damp cloth against her forehead. “There’s m’ pretty girl,” He cooed. 

“You’re here,” She sighed, her eyes groggy from sleep and her head heavy against her pillow. She reached for the hand that wasn’t holding the cloth, clutching it to her chest. 

“M here, lovie,” He sighed, “I wish y’ would have told me y’ weren’t feeling good.” 

“I’m fine,” Y/N lies, her eyes falling shut again to block out the light in the room. 

“Y sure about that flower? Found you up here passed out when I came to pick y’ up for dinner,” The word seemed to trigger Y/N’s memory as she shot up in bed, ignoring the pulsing of her head and the way the room spun. 

“The dinner! Harry, we can still go, I set an alarm and we still have time, I made sure of it.” Her head whipped in the direction of the clothes she had left on the floor. 

Two hands curled around her wrists to pull her attention away from the thoughts that were whirring in her mind, “Baby,” He murmured, “The dinner started an hour ago. I told them we couldn’t go as soon as I found you lying here all feverish.”

Y/N’s lips parted, registering his words as he waited patiently for her to respond. Suddenly, her eyes burned until tears began falling from them, rolling down her cheeks. Harry’s eyes widened, cupping her face in his hands and wiping away her tears before they could even fall onto the duvet. “I-I’m sorry Harry,” She cried, “I know you were so excited to go to dinner with your friends. I never get sick, I don’t understand why this is happening.” 

Harry’s eyes softened as she clung onto him, “Flower,” His heart was hurting for her. He always knew she worked hard, he saw it every day with his own eyes, but not to this extent. He figured this was from more than just a sick bug and that she’d been over-exhorting herself to the point where her body was turning against her to get some rest, “Hey, what are these tears for hmmm? No more cryin’ m’love.” He kissed her tears away, tasting the saltiness on the tip of his tongue. 

“‘Course I was excited for dinner,” A fresh set of tears filled Y/N’s eyes but Harry quickly continued, “But only because I like spending time with you. M’ friends will still be there but you are always, always, my first priority in everything.”

“You’re not mad?” She whimpers, feeling more angry at herself than anything.

“Not about tha’ but I am a little angry y’ didn’t tell me y’ weren’t feeling good. Never seen someone so warm in m’ life flower, scared me half to death.” He was trying to be stern with her but he couldn’t help but also show his worry for her. “Think you’ve been working yourself a little too hard hmmm?” He stroked her head, pushing her hair back from her sweaty forehead.

“I haven’t been sick in so long,” She admits, “I was hoping it would go away by the end of the day but, honestly Harry, I feel terrible. M’ throat is all scratchy and my tummy hurts too.”

“Think y’ body jus’ needs a well-needed break from all tha’ running about you do. Honestly Flower, never seen anyone work as hard as you do.” He smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “Gonna let me take care of y’ tonight?”

She nods, relaxing at his words of comfort, “Okay Harry,” She whispers. 

The corner of his lip twitches, “What am I going to do with you?” He sighs, completely in love with her. He leans forward, pressing his forehead against hers, not minding the warmth radiating from her in fact he welcomed it, “You’re everything to me. Can’t have y’ getting sick.” 

Her eyes fluttered shut feeling his cool breath blow against her lips like he was trying to breathe new air into her to get rid of the sickness, “I really am sorry for not being honest and for the dinner.” 

“S okay but y’ tell me from now on? Everyday okay? Tell me the truth about how y’ feeling,” He needed that from her and she promised she’d give it to him. 

He smiled when he received a quick nod in response to his request, “Alright then, are y’ hungry? Want something to eat?” He asked. 

“Not really,” Y/N pouts, the thought of food didn’t exactly appease her stomach right now. 

“Y’ don’t want soup? I make a mean cup of soup, flower. I hear it can cure even the worst of sicknesses.” Her eyes squint and he’s desperately holding himself back from rubbing his thumb over the dark circles under her eyes. 

“What kind of soup?” She questions, her eyebrows furrowing.

He leans forward, puckering his lips against her top lip, “S a secret.” He murmurs. 

“Can I help make it?” Her eyes round because she knows it will persuade him - it always does. 

“You can sit down and keep me company but I don’t want you up and about.” She sighs but accepts the answer and holds her arms open. Harry smiles and lifts her up, his arms under her butt as her legs wrap around his waist. 

He walks to her kitchen and places her on the kitchen counter, moving around to the different cupboards as though he owned the place. He knew exactly where she kept everything, gathering ingredients to create the delicious soup he knew she would love because it had all her favourite things hidden in the recipe. 

Once the soup is cooked, he pours two servings into pink, china bowls and places them at the coffee table in front of the couch. He helps Y/N, carrying her over and sitting her in her spot and tossing a blanket over her legs. “Want me to put on y’ show, love?” He asks, referring to her comfort show Gravity Falls. 

“Yes please,” She replies, politely. 

Y/N picks up the spoon that feels like it weighs more than it does and sips some of the soup she watched Harry make. “Mmm Harry, it’s delicious!” She hums, taking another spoonful.

“Yeah?” He grins proudly at her reaction.

“I already feel much better,” She nodded. He knows she’s feeding his ego but he accepts it all the same.

When they’re both finished eating, he takes both of their bowls and goes to tidy them up, leaving Y/N lying on the couch under a blanket he’d put over her. He hears her tired giggles when something funny happens on the small television, his heart aching at the raspiness of her voice but he’s happy she’s no longer upset. He also cleans up the dishes from this morning and does some of her laundry too, wanting her to rest as much as possible in the upcoming days. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket. A notification appears from the group chat he was in with the friends they were meant to go to dinner with. Pictures of them at dinner pop up, his eyes glancing over to his girlfriend as he sends a quick reply. He walks over to her and finds her no longer in the sweater she was once wearing but completely stripped down to just her underwear. Her eyes gaze up at him, “S too hot,” She sighs, her cheeks bright pink.

He tugs off his shirt and pulls it over his head, nudging her over to lie in the spot beside her. The couch was much too small so she ended up laying half on top of him, her head resting over his heart and her palm over his chest. His thumb slides under the waistband of her panties as it brushes the skin on her waist. 

She mindlessly played with the chain around his neck and his lips quirked every time he’d spot the small inking on her arm whenever she moved it a certain angle. “I love you,” He murmured, kissing the top of her head. He couldn’t remember if he had told her already but either way, he wanted to tell her. 

Y/N craned her neck to look up at him, his palm pushing back the hair from her face, “I love you too,” She puckered her lips and he leaned forward to kiss her. 

Halfway through the first season, light snores fell from the girl lying across his chest. Harry carefully manoeuvred himself to grab the remote control and switch the TV off. He gently moved her enough so he could stand up and hooked his arms around her to carry her to her bedroom. 

“Harry,” Y/N mumbled as he lay her on her mattress. She reached out for him, needing his close proximity to stay relaxed. 

“M right here, lovie,” He reached for her hand that she held out for him and kissed the back of it, “I’m just gonna get you a glass of water.” Y/N liked having a glass of water on her bedside table in case she got thirsty in the night. He remembered the first time he stayed around her apartment and she forgot to grab one before she went to sleep. She woke Harry up in the middle of the night to ask him if he could come with her to the kitchen because it was too dark for her to go by herself. 

“You’ll come back?” She pouts, half asleep.

“I’ll be back in thirty seconds, flower. Y’ can count if y’ want to.” He chuckles when she starts counting, whispering softly as he walks to the kitchen.

He comes back before she reaches thirty with a glass of tap water clenched in his fingers. He places it on her side of the bed - because they have those now and he was obsessed. Hers was always the right in both his and her bed and his was always the left. 

“Told you,” He says as he lays beneath the blanket in the bed beside her. 

“You did,” She hums, curling into his side once he’s settled, “How come you’re always right?” 

He cradles her in his arms as she buries her face in his neck, wanting to be as close to him as possible. “M not always right but I think M right about you most of the time. You’re all I know, flower, I know how to love you and take care of you.”

She sighs blissfully, he can feel her eyelashes against his neck as they flutter open and close like she’s trying to fight off sleep, “There you go again, right as always.” 

He laughs, “Rest now baby, you’ll be back t’ watering y’ flowers and being my noisy neighbour in no time.”

He knows she’s asleep from the lack of sassy responses he gets. 

. . . 

“This is pretty,” Harry tugged on her skirt as she walked past him sitting on the chair at the front desk holding a bouquet of flowers. She looked beautiful every day but after days of being sick and in bed, she was practically glowing with fresh energy as she moved around the shop. Her hair was in a high ponytail with a white bow secured around it, she wore a dress with puffy sleeves that swayed as she moved, and her heels clicked against the ground with every step she made. 

The flower shop had been closed during the time Y/N was sick. She was beyond stressed about it the first few days, worried that she would be so behind on her work the longer the shop was closed, but Harry made sure everything would be alright. He suggested she keep the shop closed for the whole week so that she could work on the things she needed to before opening it again.

 As much as he wanted to stay with her, Y/N insisted he go to work in the day, especially since the most she would be doing was sleeping. He worried about her often in the day, he couldn’t help it, and he hadn’t realised how big of a presence she was until she wasn’t there anymore. He couldn’t hear the chiming of the bell as people walked in and out of the flower shop and he missed the clicking of her heels against the floor as she walked into his shop to eat lunch with him or sneak around the back buildings to kiss him. 

“Thank you, I bought it online a few days ago,” She gleamed as he rubbed the fabric between his fingers. 

“Ahh,” He smirked, “So y’ were buying pretty dresses instead of sleeping whilst I was down here working?”

“Something like that,” She shrugged, biting her lip.

He yawned his head falling forward to rest against her stomach. She ran her fingers through his curls, “Are you tired?” She asks. 

“Hmmm,” His eyes flutter shut at the sensation of her hands in his hair.

“Harry?” She frowns, holding his face in her hands as she tilts his head back. Her hand cups his forehead, “You’re burning up.”

“I am?” He sighs.

Y/N’s eyes soften, “You are,” She replies, “Seems as though it’s my turn to take care of you now,”

Harry grins lazily, “I like the sound of that, Flower.”

[pretentious-blonde]

turning pages

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: making the most of the beginnings of autumn, steve takes his girl to a bookshop. only problem is, he is clueless as to what she is talking about.

warnings: none, steve being insecure?

a/n: today feels like the first day of autumn so I wanted to write something for steve being obsessed with his girl <3

The crisp autumn morning was a blessing after the oppressive heat of the summer. The wind carried with it the scent of fallen leaves and the familiar smell of burning wood, probably from a distant bonfire. Steve took in the beauty of the morning as he walked with you, practically glued to your side, matching your every step with his own. 

The sun shone bright above the pair, but did little to heat the two of you. Instead, it covered the trees in a warm orange glow, complementing the leaves that continued to fall. The colours only added to it—crimson reds and burnt oranges, scattered across the pavement you strolled down, giving a satisfying crunch as you both walked. 

Wrapped up warm next to him in her oversized jumper was his girl, clad in an old winter coat that looked like it could swallow her whole. Her cheeks were flushed from the chilly breeze, making her features appear even softer. He didn’t think that was possible. 

She took a sip of her hot chocolate, something she was so excited to finally have now the weather had cooled down. He was more of a coffee drinker himself, but he wouldn’t let her know that, especially when her eyes lit up as she ordered one for him too. Giddily handing it to him and watching as he took his first sip. 

For her, it would be his new favourite. 

He watched the way her breath came out in small clouds, the morning light illuminating her face and a few strands of hair that framed her perfectly. 

He couldn’t hide the smile from his face even if he tried; he thanked the coldness for hiding his own reddening cheeks. Everything about her mesmerised him, even more so today—the peaceful look in her eyes, the way she looked so snug in her layers, radiating warmth despite the dropping temperature. She had to fight him off that morning after he insisted on wrapping her up more, offering up his jumper collection for her comfort. Eventually, she gave in and didn’t fight when he draped his scarf around her neck, tying it up and tucking it into her jacket. 

He wanted her to always be comfortable. Always be happy. 

His own hot chocolate helped to warm his fingers, every sip reminding him of the sweet girl next to him. As the two of you walked, you could feel his gaze wandering to you, your eyes wide and sparkling as you talked about everything and nothing. Your laughter rang aloud at something he said and his heart leapt in his chest, he felt lucky for being the cause of it. 

Every now and then, he’d reach out and gently brush a stray leaf from your coat or adjust his scarf as you tell him off for fussing too much. You do it all with a small grin, he knows you secretly love it, and all he is thinking about is how he’d do anything to keep that smile on your face. 

As you continued to wander along the street, he felt you pause next to him before grabbing his arm with excitement. He chuckled as you dragged him in the direction of the bookshop, just happy to be in your company. 

“C’mon, I didn’t know this was here!” You tell him, practically skipping towards the entrance. 

“Neither did I, honey,” he says, keeping his tone upbeat so as to not dim your enthusiasm. This was not exactly his comfort zone and the last thing he wanted was for you to think you were dating some kind of fool. 

As you pulled him inside, he was hit with the cosy smell of old parchment, similar to the one that filled your apartment. Probably due to your overflowing bookshelf. The lighting was dim and inviting, flowing over your form as you began to wander down the aisles. He watched from afar as your brows furrowed in concentration, carefully inspecting each new book you spotted. It was clear you were in your element. 

The boy tried to act casual, leaning against one of the shelves, tucking his hands in his pockets. But internally, he was nervous. He knew nothing about books. Years of trying in class but failing miserably, his skills were more social ones, not academic. His mind started overthinking the entire situation. Maybe you liked smarter guys, men who could recommend you something, knowing immediately what you would like. Someone you could drink hot chocolate with and exchange reading materials while talking about obscure authors and their works. 

“This place is pretty cool, angel,” he said while pretending to look around. 

You tore your gaze away from the book in your hand, your smile bright. “I know right? I can’t believe we have never seen it here before.”

You carried on perusing the shelves, this time taking Steve with you, picking up a few classics that you have read previously. You held up a second-hand copy of Pride and Prejudice, your eyes glinting with excitement. “This is an absolute favourite. Elizabeth Bennet falls in love with Mr Darcy. He is so misunderstood in my opinion. It’s all about social class and personal growth—I love it. Real old school romance.”

He nodded enthusiastically as he listened intently to what you were saying. Mr Darcy, Bennet…right. Got it. His small smile never fell as he tried to keep up with your rambling. “Yeah, sounds great, honey. I mean—if you say it’s that great—I believe you.”

You laughed and shoved his shoulder teasingly. “My opinion is always correct. Okay, let me show you…” you scan the shelf to try and find another title. “This one,” you hold up a book with the author Shirley Jackson printed on the bottom. 

“This one is a bit of a psychological thriller. It’s about two sisters living in isolation, and it’s got this eerie, unsettling vibe. You’d probably laugh if I told you it’s a bit of a horror novel. I mean, I don’t exactly see you reading ghost stories.”

“I’m sure it’s super creepy. I’ll take your word for it.” He tried to sound convincing, but his mind was elsewhere. What’s a psychological thriller again? Fuck.

You continued to talk about books, stopping to tell him what you loved and what you didn’t about each one. Steve found himself more focused on how adorable you looked when you were passionate about something. Your hands gestured animatedly as you described the plots and characters, and he couldn’t help but be completely enchanted by your enthusiasm. His smart girl. 

He wanted to ask questions to keep you talking, but he was worried about saying something that might seem stupid. What if I ask the wrong thing? He didn’t want to seem clueless—god—if only he had paid more attention in English class. Maybe then he could at least try to humour you better. 

Instead, he just kept nodding, offering encouraging smiles and the occasional, “That sounds really cool.” Just hoping it was the right thing to say, wracking his brain to find a more exciting adjective than ‘cool’.

As you continued to browse, Steve’s eyes caught sight of a familiar cover on a nearby shelf, The Great Gatsby. He hadn’t thought about that book in ages, but he remembered reading it—pretending to read it—a while back in class and tried desperately to remember something—anything—from the plot. Trying to act casual, leaning over you as he pointed at it, your senses suddenly filled with the smell of bergamot and amberwood. 

“Hey, Gatsby. I, uh, liked it.” He ran a hand through his hair, an action that you quickly learnt he did when he was stressed or unsure, you could hear the hesitation in his voice. Steve regretted speaking up immediately. Everyone had read it, or at least studied it back in school. It was hardly impressive. He just wanted to contribute somehow. Wanted to share something with you that you were passionate about. 

You turned to him with a warm smile, clearly seeing through his nonchalant facade. “You’ve read The Great Gatsby? I love Fitzgerald’s work.”

Steve’s face turned a pretty shade of pink at your reassurance. God, you’re too sweet for him. 

“Yeah, I remember it being pretty good. I mean, it’s definitely one of those books that, like, sticks with you, right?”

You chuckled and gave him a playful nudge, the action alone making his chest tighten at your innocent touch. “Definitely. I’m impressed you remembered it. You’ve got good taste.”

Steve’s smile widened, his eyes filled with adoration, your response made him feel like he was doing something right as relief washed over him. He reached out, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m just happy I’m with you, honey. I like you telling me this…stuff. You make it all sound so interesting.”

You beamed up at him, your eyes shining. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. As long as you’re ok with me talking your ear off.”

Please, he thought. He would listen to you ramble all day.

When you had finally finished looking around, you had narrowed it down to only two books you were going to buy, clutching them both close to your chest. Steve walked up beside you, grabbing the slightly battered copy of Pride and Prejudice along with the Shirley Jackson novel you’d had gushed to him about earlier. You glanced at him in surprise as he added them to the stack at the counter.

“Wait, why are you getting those?” you asked, tilting your head as he reached into his pocket, handing the cashier the cash. 

Steve shrugged casually, brushing off your question. “Because you like them, and I’m gonna read them,” he said with a confident grin, holding the door open for you as you both stepped back into the cold air outside, books in hand.

You blinked up at him as you stopped walking, shaking your head at the thought of inconveniencing him. “You really don’t have to, you know. I wasn’t trying to make you read them.”

He stopped when you did, giving you that soft, classic Steve look that always made your knees go weak. 

“Nonsense,” he replied, his voice full of affection as he held a hand up to your stressed face. “If you like them, angel, I’ll love them. Plus, I kinda want to know what you’re talking about when you get all excited next time you bring me here.”

Your heart melted on the spot. “You’re too nice, you know that?”

His confident expression faltered, now looking more bashful. He slipped his hand into yours as you continued your walk, not wanting it to get cold. 

“Only for you,” he said, giving your fingers a gentle squeeze. “And I’ll read anything if it means I get to hear more of what you gotta say.”

You glanced up at him, a playful smirk playing on your lips. “Oh, really? Gonna give you a pop quiz and everything once you’ve finished them if that’s the case.”

Steve chuckled, feeling the pressure already with your teasing threat. “Quiz me? Uh, maybe let me get through a few chapters first, honey.”

“I’ll make flashcards for you and everything. You’ll be an expert on Austen when I’m done with you.” You giggle. 

He laughed, shaking his head at your antics. “If I suddenly become a literary genius, it’s all thanks to you, angel.”

You leaned closer to him, taking your hand away from his so he could wrap a strong arm around your shoulders. 

“I like you just the way you are.” The words fell out of your mouth with ease.

Steve rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide how he felt after hearing you say that. Your words would be replaying in his head for weeks to come. “Keep sweet-talking me, and I might even start quoting Pride and Prejudice just to impress you.”

“Oh, I’d love to see that,” you teased. “You as Mr. Darcy? Perfect.”

“At your service, Miss Bennet.” He said, giving you a small bow, he hoped he remembered names right from earlier.

You burst out laughing, feeling warmer thanks to the sweet boy next to you. He pulled you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your temple as you continued down the street together, tucked under his shoulder, hot chocolate now cold in your paper cups. Not that it mattered, he would buy you as many as you liked as long as he was with you.

[crescenthistory]

congratulations my darling, you deserve thousands upon thousands of followers 🥺🥺 you are truly a poet, an artist, a master !!

if it's not too much, could i ask you to argue for domestic prompt #15 with our lovely boy remus lupin? 👉👈

STOP IT that is so sweet of you, i love you endlessly darling<33 big hug to you

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

i will ARGUE for prompt 15 "odd socks" with remus lupin

carina's 2k celebration

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

cw: fluff, fireplace, teasing/banter & wc: 1.5k

Remus could hear from the creaking of the floorboards upstairs that you had woken up at last. A small smile began to bloom on his face, not much unlike the winter sun that was peaking in through the sheer curtains of the living room.

The two of you had been spending the start of January at the Lupin household in Cardiff to look after its plants and animals while his parents travelled south to escape the cold. If Remus wasn't already certain that he intended to build a quiet life with you, he was now completely swallowed up by the idea, feeling as if he was living in a fairytale with you.

His aching back did not allow him to sleep for long, but you looked so heavenly when he fell asleep with you and woke up to you in the guest bedroom. The floral sheets looked stunning against your smooth skin, your hair splayed perfectly out across the pillow. It felt so natural, so domestic to spend these moments with you that Remus knew had it not been for his pain, he would have stayed swaddled up with you together.

Instead, he had the pleasure of lounging around this cabin-like home that his parents moved into during his last years at Hogwarts, wearing baggy and cosy checkered pants and a knitted jumper courtesy of his grandma. Remus took his time watering the various plants his mum fawned over, cleaning up the little messes he found and keeping the hearth alive to encourage some heat into the stubborn wooden floors.

Eventually he settled down in a plush armchair and picked up his knitting needles – gods, if James and Sirius could see him now, they would be laughing until they cried, calling him all sorts of names ranging from "senior citizen" to "GILF". Remus knew this because they had before. He rolled his eyes then and most certainly would do the same now, but a smile played over his lips at the thought nonetheless.

He picked knitting back up again whenever he went home, especially after he saw how you lit up when you found out he even knew how. The warmth that spread in his chest at the mere thought of maybe impressing you was enough to keep him speeding his way through this second sock he was working on.

It was while in the midst of a row, humming New Angels of Promise by Bowie absentmindedly to himself that he heard you wake up at last. He had set a kettle on earlier and prepared a fruit bowl for breakfast, but wanted to wait for you. He would have happily done so for many more hours if it meant he was about to be blessed with the sight of your freshly woken up face.

Descending the stairs while yawning, you turned the corner to the living room and Remus got to see what he had longed for – you, in his oversized t-shirt with messy hair and sleepy eyes.

"G'morning, dove." The smile was both audible in his tone and very visible on his face.

Your eyes locked on his and you returned his expression tenfold. "Good morning, handsome." Your voice was hoarse with sleep, which apparently came as a surprise to you by the widening of your eyes at the sound.

You both burst into quiet giggles.

He turned his face up towards yours, fingers stilling on the needles, waiting and hoping for a kiss; you were never one to deny him. With the smile still plastered over your lips, you pressed yours against his and he breathed you in while beckoning you closer by the softening of his lips and touch.

He hummed happily until you pulled away, taking a few steps away from him to stand directly in front of the fireplace.

"Where'd you go?" He asked with a pout that was only half in jest, making you roll your eyes fondly.

"I just escaped my cocoon, it's freezing out here in comparison," you stated matter-of-factly, wrapping your arms around yourself. While he was sure the warmth was quite nice, Remus was also overly aware of how close to the smoldering fire you were.

"Come here and I'll warm ya up." His tone was equal parts teasing and joyful as he properly set his knitting aside to open his arms to you.

You didn't need to be asked twice. With a grin that just screamed of lovestruckness in a way that made Remus' blood sing and twirl, you climbed into his lap, tucking your feet beneath his pajama-clad thigh.

One of his hands immediately settled around your waist, while the other began to rub up and down your thigh, over your knee, warming the cold and exposed skin beneath your shorts.

When he looked at where your feet were hiding beneath his leg, Remus couldn't help but laugh.

"Dovey," he said, almost chiding but a bit too happy to sound convincing. "Of course you're cold, you're walking around wearing just one sock!"

You looked down, eyebrows already shooting up and mouth opening to defend yourself. "I couldn't find the other one! This cabin requires big wool socks, and I could only find one half of the pair."

Remus' cheeks heated at the realisation, and his tone immediately switches from faux chiding to sheepish. "You mean the blue ones?"

Your eyes narrowed on him. "Yeah? The mate to the one sock I am wearing?"

Remus let his arm around you come up so he could twirl your hair between his fingers. "Sorry dove, that might be on me. I might have borrowed your sock."

While you desperately wanted to keep up the banter, you could not help but break character and laugh heartily at how chastised he looked already, cupping both of his cheeks and squeezing them hard before pressing quick kisses in succession to his lips. "You silly silly man," you murmured. "What are you even doing with my sock?"

Remus melted into your touch, smiling dopily at your attention. He looked sideways towards his knitting needles placed on the coffee table to the right of the armchair. "I might have used it... for reference?"

Your brows furrowed in interest and you dropped his hand in favour of looking in the same direction he was. The cooing sound that escaped you at what you found was one that James and Sirius also would have bullied you relentlessly for – Remus was beginning to realise how lucky you both were to be in private.

"Love, are you knitting me a pair of socks?" you asked in reverence, letting your hand ghost over the delicate yarn in your favourite colour.

"Well, you said you should have packed more thick socks before we came here, so." Remus shrugged, trying to downplay the significance of the act. 

You didn't let him, of course.

You melted further into his side as you picked up the one half of the pair that he had already finished, feeling how soft it was to the touch, how beautiful it looked against your skin. When you turned your head towards him, your faces were mere millimetres apart. "How did I get so lucky with you, hm?"

"Must have been a gift from the universe," he agreed readily, already leaning in for a kiss before you could claim it for yourself.

These slow morning kisses that were all softness, cosy fabric and cold skin cemented Remus' love for you beyond just his heart, it became ingrained into his bones and nerves.

You came apart just so you could put on the finished sock. Remus shook his head and laughed at you. "Darling, they're not finished."

"This one is!" You pulled the sock all the way up on your exposed foot, lifting it so he could see how much of a perfect fit it is. "You can continue using the one you stole as reference, and I'll break this one in in the meantime."

The sight of you with mis-matched wool socks, one of which he made, while placed so prettily in his lap was one Remus worked overtime to commit to memory and never forget. "You're an odd one, you know that?" He smiled the whole way through the sentence.

You returned it in full. "Yeah," you admitted breathlessly. "And you are the sock thief who is in love with me."

Remus pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. "Is it really classified as thievery if I return it and give you another pair?"You murmured a "shut up" as you chased his lips for more, laughing heartily against him.

[foli-vora]

under pressure

declan o'hara x f!reader

A/N: is this how I imagined returning to my little corner of the internet? No, but I'm not mad about it. Look at him. I've been in love with him ever since he showed up uninvited at Bilbo Baggins front door. It's been a hot minute since I've written smut angels, so this may be a mess - be gentle with me as I somewhat work my way back into my old groove lmao. And as always, enjoy!

Word count: a bit over 1.7k I believe

Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY: a deep and sloppy blowjob. The man fucking needs one. Also swearing, brief mentions of oral (f rec) and edging, masturbation (f), dirty talk, praise kink - having this man murmur these words to me would be my entire physical, mental, emotional and spiritual undoing I swear to god. Not really proof read so YOLO I guess.

His gruff answer through the closed food of his study is exactly what you expect. Not Now. Now now, he says. Not now, not an hour ago, not even two hours ago… not at all today, it seems. He’d been locked away since breakfast, and quite frankly, you’d had enough. 

You open the door with a scowl. “Yes now.”

Declan sighs, pen dropping to the papers strewn across his desk as he rubs tiredly at his eyes. “Love—”

“I’m not here to harass you,” you soothe, stepping into the study and closing the door firmly behind you, “I know you’re busy. I’m here to help.”

He frowns at you, watching you walk your way deeper into the room and around his desk. He doesn’t have time for this. God, he’d hang the fucking moon and stars for you but right now? Not a good time. Not with everything happening with Ventura, with Tony fucking Baddingham… 

“Help? I appreciate the thought, but this isn’t really your forte—”

“Not the kind of help I was offering.”

One look into your eyes and he thinks maybe he has five minutes to spare. Five minutes of those lips, that body, and that fucking space between your legs that seems to forever have his fucking head in a spin. All the times he’d wake with the taste of your cunt still lingering on his top lip, the very essence of you soaked so far into his moustache he’d smell you throughout the day…

Shit. Maybe ten minutes.

He reaches for you, hands already fisting and tugging at the cosy knit jumper snugly hugging your frame and the flowy cotton summer dress beneath it. You laugh softly, fingers wrapping around his wrists and halting his attempts to find a way under your clothes. He pauses, staring up at you as if you’ve just slapped him right across his handsome face.

“I’m here for you, Declan.”

He groans deeply, face pressing into your stomach and letting his voice melt into the material. “Please, love. All I want is to sit you on this desk and lose myself in you.”

“And have me make a mess all over your hard work? Do you really think that’s practical, darling?”

“Fuck practicality.”

“No, I don’t think so. Now back,” you reinforce your demand with a shove to his chest, the old chair creaking under the sudden shift of weight, “and relax, alright? You’re in good hands here, Mr O’Hara.”

He watches as you slip down onto your knees between his legs, tongue sweeping along his lower lip as you reach for his belt.

“I promise not to take up too much of your time,” you tease, fingers nimble as they pull at his trousers.

He doesn’t help you wrangle denim out of the way, simply content with watching you paw at him until you get what you want. You always get what you want in the end. He can’t find it within himself to be irritated by it at this moment, not when your warm fingers finally wrap around his cock and send pulses of heat to stir in the pit of his stomach.

Time? He doesn't give a shit about that anymore.

“Keep lookin’ at me like that and you can have as much time as you like.”

Research could wait, or maybe he could pass time doing research of a different sort. How many times could he make you finish with his fingers? Mouth?

How many times could he drag you to the edge, promising a sharp drop into ecstasy, only to pull away before the inevitable descent? The only problem he’d have was not giving into your hoarse pleas, begging for more. A few harsh cries of his name and he’d do anything you asked of him—

“Fuck, love.”

The hot encompass of your mouth over his steadily hardening cock steals whatever thoughts he had left swirling in his mind, and his head falls back to rest on the chair with a light thud. You fight a smile as he melts under your touch, wet tongue soft and soothing as you run it over salty skin.

He hardens fully in the heat of your mouth, lips now straining around the solid thickness of him as his cock slides back and forth in between them. 

“How fuckin’ wet are you right now?” He rumbles deeply, his fingers gentle as they stroke along your cheek and to where your lips stretch around him. “I bet you’re fuckin’ soaked, just from having my cock in your mouth.”

You are, and he damn well knows it. 

Humming lightly, your tongue drags against hardened flesh until his cock softly pops out from between your lips. “Maybe I’ll let you find out.”

A slight tug of a smirk stretches beneath his moustache, and your body practically thrums under his heavy lidded stare. “Oh, I’ll be findin’ out, love. Don’t you worry about that. Now open your mouth, take me all the way—show me how good you are.”

Yes, sir.

Taking him back between your lips, you slicken his skin with another teasing stroke of tongue before taking him deeper and deeper, until you start to feel the push of resistance at the back of your mouth.

A large hand curls around the back of your head to goad you on, your cunt tightening at the firm pressure of it. You fight the first wave of a gag, swallowing thickly around him and digging your fingers into the worn denim covering his thighs in an effort to ground yourself.

“Just a little more, love. That’s it, attagirl. Just like that. Relax, open up for me.”

It’s a struggle, his thick cock throbbing heavily and uncomfortable in your throat, but the more he rumbles away with those pretty little words of encouragement and you don’t care.

You don’t care that tears begin to build and spill from your eyes, tracking hot streams down your cheeks. You don’t care that your lungs are burning, that you’re on the verge of retching from the solid intrusion.

All you care about is the way he watches you take it all, eyes heavy and chest heaving. All you care about is getting that last bit of tension out of his shoulders, about making him proud. You want to be the one to break him, to have Declan O’Hara shatter and fall apart at your touch.

“Such a pretty little thing you are,” he murmurs, his rough thumb brushing along your cheek and smearing your tears over your skin. “Breathe, sweetheart. You’re doin’ so fuckin’ well, always so good t’me.”

Oxygen floods your lungs when you pull back enough on his cock to inhale sharply, eyes fluttering closed as the large hand steadying your head turns to a more guiding approach, fingers digging into your scalp as he pulls and pushes your face against him as he wishes.

Saliva gathers at the corners of your mouth from the relentless press of his cock meeting the back of your throat, spilling from your lips and sliding down your chin in a messy trail. He doesn’t seem to care in the slightest that you’re making a mess, eyes dark and zeroed in on the way his cock disappears between your plush wet lips. 

“Just a little more, love. Just a… oh, fuck. You’re so fuckin’ good, so good—”

Your brows pinch together with an effort to stay composed, to not let the utter fire consuming your body distract you from why you came here in the first place. You can’t help that your body is so damn responsive to every little thing this man does and says to you.

The long soaked fabric of your underwear sticks to your weeping cunt, walls fluttering around the disappointing feel of nothing, and clit throbbing with the need for just a little bit of attention from either you or the man fucking your mouth.

A slight shift and you’re able to drag one of your hands away from his thigh and under the hem of your dress, fingers soft and soon slick as soon as they dive under the thin cotton and swipe eagerly through your slit. You waste no time running the pads of your fingers over your swollen clit, circling again and again until you couldn’t help but slide one, and then two, fingers deep into your hot cunt and curling. 

He catches the twist of your features, the way a hand is suddenly missing from his leg and he groans softly at the idea of you needing to touch yourself while sucking him off. He's watched you plenty of times, knows exactly what you like and how you look giving yourself everything you need.

Another choked moan falls from your throat and he’s fucking desperate for it.

“Give me your hand,” he orders hoarsely. His eyes narrow at the remaining hand you lift from his thigh, and his head tilts towards you. “Not that one, your other one.”

You whine softly around his cock in vague disappointment as you slide your wet fingers from your cunt, attempting to keep your pace bobbing your head up and down his thick length as he all but snatches your wrist.

His lips wrap around the two fingers glistening in the sunlight pouring in from the window and he groans deeply around the length of them, the sweet tangy taste of your cunt settling right into his taste buds and dragging him right up and over the fucking edge.

He erupts thickly on your tongue, sharp salty cum filling your mouth and spilling from your lips as you desperately try to swallow him down. Your tongue catches and swipes up what cum remains on his now softening cock, his hips jolting and jerking with every teasing lick and soft suck you give to his sensitive flesh.

You pull away with a playful smile, your hand still caught up and now intertwined with his as his chest heaves from the aftermath. His eyes open after a moment to find you, the edge in his expression now softened.

“Feel better?”

“Not yet,” he breathes before swiping a hand across his desk, the flutter and slap of paper and files hitting the floor soon following. His hand taps the now vacant surface of the desk twice, his head briefly nodding to the space made for you, “but I will after this—get up.”

[pumpkinghostbunnyy]

Cod characters x gothic gf at creepmas

Merry Christmas! And for those that don't celebrate Christmas I hope you still have the best month, cookies for you all, ghost themed is the cookie id choose-🎃

Price🥃- now for this I'm thinking sugar daddy price with his spooky little bat (or brat🤭), I feel like he's a classic Christmas man but he'd absolutely buy her gothic baubles to dot about the tree among his classic ones, I also think he'd get a little smirk from the skull one and would send a picture to ghost. (He gets left of delivered but ghost secretly is smirking) He'd spoil the living shit out of you, I'm talking all the perfumes, gothic scents he could find on Etsy, he adores his princess, he's not the type of man who gives half arsed gifts she'd never use, no no he has it memorized, all the things you want.

Gaz🪽- like I've said previously he's most likely known his love a long time, but even if he's not I recon he's so just excepting that he's not bothered, his girls putting up a black Christmas tree? well let him help get the baubles from the attic princess. Once again he's not giving half arsed gifts no no he's giving the most beautiful taxidermy, hand crafted gothic jewellery box and if it has a ring in it well don't be surprised .

Soap🧼- (first of all I'm feral for this photo OMFG) soap will fight you for the decorations, no begon satan we're not having a black tree, fine the bat can go at the BACK of the tree, he'd get you silly gifts, a mothman tshirt(i love love love mothman i want the build a bear sooo bad) and would wrap it in some colourful wrapping paper to be funny.

Alejandro🌿- I recon he'd spend his Christmas happily cuddled up with you drinking bourbon, he'd get you a raven teddy bear and he'd get you jewellery, I think he likes a cosy chill kinda Christmas.

Ferah🌞- I recon she has a difficult relationship with her family so she spends Christmas with you alone, she'll roll her eyes as she sees them in the store but she buys you the matching hello kitty pjs you've seen couples wear all over Pinterest, she's also getting you a kuromi plushy (I believe her gf is absolutely a sunny bubbly hello kitty girly) .

Roach 🪳- (I'm adding roach to my list of characters because he's a cutie) bugs bugs bugs. You're getting taxidermy bugs and he's definitely a roach duh but he's also get you cozy stuff for your home, blankets and a roach teddy for when he's deployed.

Horangi🍻- (I'm also adding him to my characters) his gift is a date to the poison plant garden and yes his rose screams she's so excited, he's just smiling the entire time enamoured with you.

Keegan ���- he gets his girl roses, dark red roses and a ring and necklace set, I'm talking vampire looking living room, black matching stockings and candles, this is not only his vibe but his beautiful babys.

Ghost 💀- he'd get you a black kitten, after months of you yapping about it and begging and him giving a firm no he'd get you one, you call it grim after the grim reaper and you cry when you go downstairs on Christmas morning to a little kitten with a coffin pet bed, and let's be honest he's absolutely the reluctant at first cat dad who babies and is closest with the thing by the end.

Konig🦋- (the fan art omg so cute I need to pet him please!) he's obsessed with his little one, absolutely lives in the woods with her so he buys her the softest warmest blankets and he buys her warm knitted jumpers, custom made from an elderly woman who lives in the Village, with krampas on it (the woman definitely thinks he's the devil when he shows up with his hood on but he pays double sooo).

[slvtforfiction]

Could you write a Johnnie guilbert x f reader where the reader deals with sh. The reader is a famous song writer and YouTuber, she gets comments about her scars and just hate comments in general and johnnnie comforts her?

Late night hate

☆ yess ofcourse x

☆ Johnnie Guilbert X Reader

☆ Fluff/Comfort

☆ Cw: Self harm

☆ Hey guys! Before anything else I would ask you to request anything you want because I've lost a lot of motivation and it would really help! :D (Please look at pinned post to see if requests are open.)

☆ Creds to @cafekitsune for dividers :)

Masterlist | Pinned post

I finished editing my video and smiled to myself as I quickly posted it. I walked downstairs to where Johnnie was sat watching TV and smiled at him as I walked into the kitchen.

“Pumpkin!” He yelled lightheartedly and I giggled at the nickname, “Yeah?” I said as I walked back into the living room, “Cuddle?” He asked like a toddler and I giggled again.

“Give me a minute and I’ll be back I just wanna make a snack.” I said to him and he nodded as I walked back into the kitchen.

I grabbed some strawberries,kiwis,apples and honeydew melon and began to cut them up to make a fruit bowl.

As I finished cutting up the last kiwi I put it into the bowl and walked back into the living room. I sat down next to Johnnie with the bowl in hand and lied down on his chest.

I ate my fruit as Johnnie took little bits for himself and I cosied up to his chest as I watched whatever was on the TV.

After finishing my fruit bowl,I sat it on the table and pulled out my phone to check how my video was doing.

Johnnie looked over my shoulder as I checked on it,equally as curious as me. This wasn’t something I usually posted so I didn’t expect much from it.

However when I looked at the videos analytics it looked to be doing better than the previous videos I’ve been doing.

I smiled as I clicked onto the comments and began reading through,though I was quickly losing my smile.

Imagine showing ur fucking scars,wtaf.

^56 replies

She’s such an attention whore 🤣

^34 replies

Fucking emo

^21 replies

Y/n don’t listen to them x

^- shut up emo

^ view more replies

What’s her issue 💀

^15 replies

Go back to wearing jumpers u fucking emo

^- Leave her alone??

^- Maybe she should stop cutting 🤣

^view more replies

I stopped reading after that.

Johnnie looked down at me and pulled me into a bigger hug as I began crying into his shoulder.

He didn’t say anything,he just held me as I broke down into his shoulder.The silence of the house interrupted by my tears.

“It’s okay.” He said softly as he lifted me up,he sat me in his lap and I kept my face in his shoulder,not daring to look up.

He rubbed my back,whispering sweet nothings as he softly rocked me back and forth. “These scars do not mean you are ugly,these scars show you’ve survived a battle and you should be proud of yourself.” He told me as he hooked his index finger under my chin to make me look at him.

I sniffled and nodded my head,wiping my tired eyes and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “Are you okay,princess?” He asked and I nodded my head tearfully.

He wiped away my tears,kissing my lips softly as he held his hands around my face. I smiled and giggled as he began kissing around my face endlessly.

“I love you,loser.” I said light heartedly and he smiled “I love you too,idiot.” He said and I giggled.

If you or anyone you know struggles with self harm,you’re not alone. Please reach out to a trusted family member,friend or professional.

Samaritans- 116 123

Shout- 85258

Childline- 0800 1111

[boyvulation]

Hi btw free use works both ways please if you see me around the house and i look like a snack take a fucking bite

Black sweatpants? Just pull it out and go nuts, gorgeous.

Cosy jumper and baggy jeans? Take them off and start grinding, i don’t mind the cold when i’m with you.

Need your pussy eaten? Straight up push my face into your pussy and grind, and i’ll get right to work adoring your dripping little hole

[sunblchdfly]

cute coffee shop dates with with bob. it’s a cosy little place downtown. they sell books too so it gives you the feeling of a library almost. lots of windows for the natural light to come through. bob is wearing a black jumper, tucked into some light wash jeans. the simplest outfit, and you think he looks stunning. bob orders his small latte with honey, and whatever coffee/tea you wanted as well. you guys always get blueberry muffins too. you and bob sit in a secluded corner in the back. it’s away from the hustle and bustle, but still close enough to have the atmosphere of a coffee shop. usually you guys talk, he tells you about work and whatever prank jake pulled on him that week. or sometimes you guys just sit in silence and read. bob will hold your hand on the table and play with your fingers. it helps you stay focused, you told him. sometimes though, he can’t help but just stare at you while you read. he could watch you do nothing all day and still find you to be the most interesting and beautiful person on the planet.

[silenttrxxs]

MISTLETOE AND WHINE

SMUT! - NSFW

the last thing you wanted was to be stuck in the middle of nowhere, snowed inside the most beautiful cabin ever. the power coming from the back up generator kicking off and causing you to root through your phone with the limited battery to call the power network company to come and help you. you looked up from your phone and smiled sheepishly as the two men looked at you with sly grins, the fire roaring to keep some heat in the cabin. Courtesy of Seonghwa having the brains to think of stoking the flames up. You sat back down, taking the blanket and wrapping it around your body shivering as the cold air made its way through your bones. You was always one to feel the cold more than normal, you sighed and looked at San, sitting across from you on the sofa as he scrolled through his phone. "hey you okay" you breathed out quietly. He looked up and smiled at you, his nose red as the chill was visibly affecting him. Seonghwa turnt around and smiled at you both, his lips parting to speak. "Why dont we all huddle up to keep warm until someone comes to boot the generator up" he said walking over and grabbing the giant blanket. Seonghwa smiled nervously as he approached you, his body sliding next to you as he moved ensuring your body was enclosed between himself and san, the blanket covering each of you just enough. "warm enough sannie" seonghwa asked smiling at him. San smiled and placed his phone down, the blanket moving and his body intertwining around yourself and seonghwa in a way that should be humanly impossible. "how long until we get power back in this place then darlings" he says giggling a little as your arm wraps around him sliding under his jumper and shirt taking his warmth from his skin. "ill get a call when they are close by so until then we just have to stay warm" you said as you leant your head on seonghwas shoulder.

"you okay hwaie" you breathed out lifting your head to look at him. "yeah i have some ideas of how to stay warm... but... " he laughs cutting off his sentence as his cheeks flush red, the cold long forgotten as he felt your hand on his leg. A silent agreement to his suggestion.

"i think your idea is just perfect baby" you breathed out. you hand gripping onto his thigh with a little force causing the older to jump a little. San watched and giggled at the sight, standing up and stretching. "i have some presents for you both, if you wouldn't mind staying right there while i go and grab them" he said before disappearing into the bedroom. He rooted through his bag pulling out the boxes he bought for you and hwa. He smiled at the boxes and giggled as he pulled the mistletoe from his bag and hid them all behind his back. You smiled as seonghwa held you close, his warmth keeping you cosy, you felt his hands wandering across your thighs as you heard the footsteps. "hey sannie what took you so long" you asked looking at him. "what you hiding" you asked scanning his body as he walked closer to you both.

"oh these its nothing, just need you on your feet now if you wouldnt mind my love" he asked standing in front of the fire. "you too hwa... dont think you're getting out of this that easily" san said giggling to himself.

You got to your feet and smiled as you felt seonghwa standing behind you, his arms wrapped around you as he tried to keep you warm with the lack of the blanket. San smiled at the sight and moved his hands showing you both the boxes. "firstly these are yours but i want something from you both before you open them" he smiled... holding the mistletoe up above his head. he laughed as he saw seonghwas gaze fall on the mistletoe, he noted the bright cherry red blush that creeped along his cheeks before he moved a little on his feet. "ill go first..." he mumbled before standing in front of san. "youre so cheesy you know that right" seonghwa said before leaning down a little and placing a chaste kiss to sans lips. "hey you stole my lip balm... i knew i didnt loose it" he giggled before going to sit down. San smiled and giggled as hwa rambled. The kiss sending a shiver through his body. He blushed as he pulled away, your eyes glued to the sight before you. You couldnt help but be in awe of the 2 men before you, unsure how you became so lucky to be stuck with them. You regretted the moment the generator gave up but you stood there watching the two people you love the most sharing an intimate moment and the love you felt for them both exploded across your body like a cacophony of fireworks. A fire that set ablaze throughout your entire nervous system.

You walked a little closer to san, gasping as you felt his hands slide across your back pulling you closer, his lips attaching to yours, the kiss sending pure shivers through you as he deepened the kiss. Seonghwa blushed as he watched you both, letting a little cough out. "sorry hwaie you know i cant help myself" san laughed as he handed your box to you and ushered you to sit in between them both again. You and hwa both looked at the boxes and smiled sliding the ribbon from the boxes to unveil a beautiful bracelet, the gold shining in the flames that shed the cabin in a cosy glow. "i hope you both like them, theyre to show you both how much you mean to me, the date we met is engraved on them both." San said as he watched both of your reactions.

Seonghwa welled up as he slid the bracelet on. Sniffling a little as he looked up at san. Seonghwa watched as san took the clasp of your bracelet and carefully attached the bracelet to your wrist. You looked at him as he did so, your heart swelling with love. "Isnt he the best" you spoke up looking at hwa. "y-yeah he is, i feel bad cause i havent got anything for anyone yet...i was waiting to get home for actual christmas" He said laughing a little nervously.

"hey i can think of something we can give to him, i think itll be a good early christmas present" you said your tone dropping a little, the glint in your eyes changing as you spoke. You watched as the change in your voice and the look in your eyes caused hwa to shift in his seat a little. The air warming up a little as you shifted closer to san. Your leg draped over his as you leant into his neck, your lips ghosting over his neck as you spoke. "why dont we treat our sannie" you breathed out as you attached your lips to his neck. The action causing a groan to leave sans body as he looked up, watching as hwa slide next to you both.

"fuck" he sighed out as he felt both of your bodies draped over his, your hands wandering across his chest, clothes long forgotten across the room as your body stayed moving above him. You didnt know how you got to this point but you darent complain, the feeling of san deep inside you making your toes curl, the heat from you both enough to start a fire. you gasped as you felt his hands guiding your movements, the groans causing your core to clench around him. You looked up as you watched the way that seonghwa walked closer, his hand stroking his length in front of your face. His other hand gripping your chin as he let his length drop onto your tongue. You gasped at the taste, you took his tip into your mouth, sucking gently, taking his length into your mouth slowly inch by inch. The sight below him causing him moan loudly, hisses leaving his body as your tongue worked around his length. "fuck baby" he hissed. "such a good slut for us arent you" he breathed out gripping your hair as he watched sans face contort. You clenched around sans length as he guided your movements, his hips thrusting into you harder, the grip was sure to leave marks on your skin for days to come but you wouldnt have it any other way. You continued bouncing on san, you core tightening and clenching around him as your mouth lulled open. The noises coming from san and seonghwa making you spill over san. His load filling you up as the action caused the eldest of you all to release his load landing on your tongue and face. "fuck" you all breathed out in unison, all gasping loudly as the lights came back on.

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

can i request Remus x best friend!reader where they have a fight and it leads to them confessing their feelings? would love angst with either fluff or smut ending

i hope you like it!! thank you for requesting the boy and trope i was just in the mood for! (btw i don't do smut for anon requests, but happily post it as anon if you've messaged me so i know it's not for a minor)

pairing: Remus x reader

tags: best friends to lovers, angst, fluff, keeping up with my bookish! Remus and reader fixation, gn 

word count: 2.7k

“Hi,” you whisper into his neck as his arms squeeze around you.

“Hey.” He smiles as he pulls back from your greeting hug. “How are you?” he asks as you begin walking, leaving his arm around your shoulders. 

“Good. I had the craziest dream last night; I was pretty disappointed to wake up to be honest,” you begin enthusiastically. “Till you remembered you had plans with me, right?”

You playfully nudge Remus from within his embrace, and though rolling your eyes as you do, you say, “Obviously,” with a smirk. 

“Great,” he chuckles. “Now that we’ve cleared that up, you can tell me about the dream.” You laugh together as you delve into it on your walk to the bookshop.

You and Remus are browsing — reading the blurbs, looking at the cool covers and curated shelves and tables, laughing lightheartedly, chatting about the ones you’d each read already or wanted to read next. It’s nice, one of your preferred ways of spending an afternoon: one of your favourite places, with your favourite person. 

“Alright,” you tell him seriously. “Time for the painful bit.” You plop your stack of selections in front of him. He gives them an exaggeratedly serious stare.

“Hm. How many do we have to cut it down to?” 

“Three,” you say solemnly. “Maybe four…” after a pause and another longing look at the stack. He grins at you. “Been saving up,” you shrug.

Remus helps you choose, and with your final cut, you go over to the till. You swallow when you notice who’s working it: the rather attractive boy who’d been working the last few times you’d been at the shop. He had beautiful brown eyes, brown hair, a kind of gloomy look, and was always wearing cosy-looking jumpers. You’re a bit nervous when it’s your turn, and you place the books down in between you with only a quick glance and awkward grin his way. He says something to you, and for some reason, it throws you off a bit but makes you decidedly less nervous. 

“Thanks,” you respond, realizing he was complimenting your selection. He’d done that last time too. 

“You come here a lot, huh?” he asks, and it hits you: he sounds nothing like Remus. 

Why the hell does that matter? you think to yourself. 

“I remember you. From last time,” he goes on at your silence. 

You only like him because he reminds of you Remus, a little voice whispers in your head. Ugh, shut up, you push it down.

“Yeah,” you smile. “My best friend and I come here all the time,” you tell him, looking back toward Remus at “best friend.” You notice Remus glaring in your direction and find it odd but look back at the boy. He’s smiling more widely now, nodding as he rings up the books. 

He’s finished up, and you’re turning to go when he adds, “Wait!” He grabs one from the stack of free bookmarks with the shop name and number, and he writes another phone number on it. “One can never have too many bookmarks, right?” he smiles at you, offering it to you. “I like it seeing you around here,” he shrugs. “Maybe I can see you somewhere else sometime though?” 

You grin, surely blushing, take the bookmark, and say, “Yeah, maybe. Thanks.” You go over to the door to wait for Remus, who’s getting a book at the other till. You walk out together; he’s scowling. 

It feels weird to tell him about this; you’re not sure why… Because you’re in love with him… Again, Shut up! But you tell him everything, and besides, you’re actually quite excited. 

“You’re not going to believe what just happened.”

“Hm?” he offers with disinterest, not even looking at you. “Look.” You show him the bookmark. He looks interested now. 

“He gave you this?” he shoots. You nod, biting your lip in a giddy shyness. “Are you going to call him?” Remus asks with a sharp edge to his tone. 

“I don’t know… Maybe? He seems nice.” “You’ve hardly even spoken to him. You have no idea if he’s ‘nice.’” The last word comes out sardonic, and it makes you wince. You don’t notice him wincing too. You shrug and grab the bookmark back, and the two of you continue your walk in silence. 

You’re meeting your friends at the pub, and you’re grateful James and Sirius are already sitting at a nice outdoor table when you arrive, eager to escape the tense silence with Remus. “Hello, my favourite nerds. How was the bookshop?” Sirius teases, smiling at you both.

“Good,” you grin; Remus just shrugs. “What’s with you?” Sirius notices. “Nothing,” Remus grunts and goes inside to the bar. Immediately just turning to you, Sirius asks, “What’s with him?” “I don’t know.” You sound sad. “You always know. It’s creepy sometimes, the two of you; it’s like you read each other’s minds,” then, in a cheeky tone, “usually.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You’re snappier than you meant to be. 

“Nothing,” he cedes, but he gives you a knowing look that makes you nervous. You keep glaring at him, and he just chuckles and gives you a quick side hug.

Remus is silent and brooding for the duration of the evening, Sirius and James having given up after several failed attempts at conversation with him. Occasionally, you catch him looking at you, but — quite atypically — you can’t read his expression, and he always looks away when you notice. He doesn’t seem to be hiding his looks, just avoiding moments with you when you look back… and it’s really getting under your skin. 

“Anyone got a light?” Sirius asks, patting down his jacket, a cig already dangling from his lips. “I might,” you respond. You’re wearing your go-to jacket, so there’s a good chance you have the lighter you use for the occasional blunt. Feeling around in your pockets, you pull out the contents and absentmindedly put a couple things down in front of you. “What’s this then?” You can hear the smirk in Sirius’s voice before even looking at him. You’re mortified when he picks up the bookmark.  “Maybe your bookshop isn’t as boring as I thought. Aren’t you cheeky?” he chuckles at you, shaking it between you.

You snatch it from him and say, “It’s nothing.” “Oh, c’mon. There’s nothing wrong with that. Is he fit?” Before you can stop yourself, you look over at Remus. You look away quickly — not missing Remus’s glower — but Sirius notices anyway, looks at him too then back at you, his grin not leaving his face. “What d’you think, mate?” he asks Remus, and your eyes go wide in warning, but Sirius either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. Remus gives a “don’t care” frown and shrug. “What? No opinion on Y/N’s new boyfriend?” Sirius continues. Remus scoffs and gives a cynical laugh, and to your surprise, your hurt at his behaviour all afternoon interlaces with anger at this. 

“What?” you snap, and Remus immediately looks to you, some surprise in his eyes, no longer avoiding your gaze. “Is it laughable that someone would like me?” The mood has safely made its way into awkwardness, but you don’t care. “What’s so funny about someone wanting to be my boyfriend, Remus?” He doesn’t say anything. “You’ve been such a prick all afternoon,” you tell him, collecting your things. You turn to Sirius, saying, “Cover me, will you? I’ll pay you back tomorrow.” You’ve already started walking away by the time he nods. 

Your eyes are puffy from crying last night when you wake, the memory of last night’s events hitting you like an ice bath. You grunt and roll over, trying — but failing miserably — not to dwell on it. Until you remember something else.

“Fuck.” You had plans with Remus today. You’d agreed to meet at the park to start the books you’d bought yesterday. You’re not sure what to do. Do you show up like nothing happened? Do you not show up and escalate things? Or, scariest of all, do you show up and address what the hell happened?

After changing your mind several times, you opt to at least show up. What’ll happen after that, you leave to the moment. When the time comes, you get ready and head over. 

You’re surprised at how surprised you are to see Remus already there, sitting on the grass. Had you really expected him not to show? You hadn’t had the thought consciously — you would’ve almost certainly freaked out if you had — but your palpable relief informs you you’d been terrified at the possibility. It would’ve been so unlike him; you normally would never have even entertained the idea. But his behaviour last night confused you, and not being on the same page as him filled you with confusion and dread.

He notices you, gives you a strained smile; you return one in turn. 

“Hey.” “Hi.”

You linger awkwardly above him before sitting down next to him, a bit further than you usually would have. The silence seems to follow your cue, elongating itself in a way that never happened with Remus. 

He’s fiddling with the grass, not looking at you when he finally says, “About last night…” You take a deep breath, and it gets caught in your chest when his gaze meets yours. “I…” He clears his throat, looks down again, then back up at you. “I’m sorry.” You nod slowly, still just staring at him. 

Before you can think about whether it’s a good idea or not, you say, “Why were you being so weird?”

“You really don’t know?” He doesn’t sound as soft as he did during his apology. 

“Obviously not, or I wouldn’t be asking.” You’re harsher too. 

He groans and, no longer looking at you, whisper-yells, “Fuck, you’re difficult sometimes.” You scoff and cringe away from him. 

“‘Difficult?’ I’m difficult? You’re the one being a prick for seemingly no reason, Rem. And now you’re blaming me?” “I’m not blaming you. I’m just saying —”

“What?” you snap. “What are you saying? Because it seems to me that you’re never saying anything, Remus. Whenever anything tense happens, you never say anything.” 

“Neither do you! What do you want me to say?!” “Yes I do!” “No, you don’t.” 

You glare at each other in electric silence.

You grab your bag and stand up. 

“I don’t really feel like reading anymore,” you offer lamely, seething. He stands up too, following you. 

“You see?! I don’t say anything, but at least I don’t fucking run away every time.” You spin to face him, and it’s so quick, you end up really close to each other before he stops fast-walking toward you. You can hear his heavy breathing, see his nostrils flaring as he scowls. 

“Run away?”

“Yeah.” It’s mean but certain. “Run away,” he repeats.

“What’s that supposed to fucking mean? It’s not like you can’t stop me… Or at least give me a fucking call afterward.” You sound hurt at the end, and Remus winces knowingly. 

“I was going to. I was. I just didn’t know what to say.” 

“Typical. Fucking typical.” You turn to keep walking away. 

He groans loudly in exasperation and walks faster to stand in front of you, cutting you off. “Can you just fucking wait one second?” He runs his hand roughly over his face, harshly through his messy hair. You quirk an eyebrow at him expectantly. 

When he doesn’t say anything for a few moments, you say, “That was more than one second,” and start walking again. 

“Stop. For fuck’s sake, just stop.” He stands in front of you again. “Why? It’s not like you’re saying anything.” Then, more softly, “And I don’t like fighting with you, okay? Maybe that’s why I ‘run away.’” The last two words still manage to sound sarcastic, but you’re whispering by the end, and you look down sadly. “Why don’t you say anything? Why does it have to be me?” He takes a tentative step forward and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. You look into his eyes, and tears well in yours. One falls, and his thumb comes up to wipe it off. You push his hand away but don’t let go of it. He lets you hold his hand, and you stare down at where you’re connected rather than look at him. 

“I don’t like fighting with you,” you repeat, whispering. He steps a bit closer to you. “I hate fighting with you,” he says firmly. “But you know what’s worse?” You look up at him and shake your head subtly. “The moment after you leave. Being without you. Especially if I know you’re upset or… angry with me.” He looks up at the sky, takes a deep breath, looks at you again. “All I want to do is comfort you. Apologize. Tell you the truth…,” he says desperately. “But I don’t.” This comes out harsh; the anger back in his voice but no longer directed at you. “Because I’m an idiot… But I’d choose fighting with you over being without you every time.” 

“Those can’t be the only two options.” Your voice is soft. He gives a quiet but honest chuckle. Then his face sets seriously, determination creeping into his features.

“Ask me again.” “Ask you what?”

“Why I was being such a prick last night.” “So you admit you were a prick?” “Y/N,” he whines. “For fuck’s sake.” “Okay, okay, sorry,” you say quickly. “Why were you being such a prick last night?”

“Because… I…,” he starts but gets stuck. “When you…” He shakes his head. “I…” He closes his eyes and whispers, “Fuck.” He opens them, looks back and forth between yours, takes a step closer to you. He brings his hand that’s not in yours up to your face, brings his forehead to rest on yours. He nudges your nose with his, caresses your cheek. “Y/N,” he whispers, all the frustration replaced by something much warmer. You shift the tiny bit necessary to connect your lips with his. His hands tighten, and his lips push softly but firmly back.

You take a deep breath in, like breathing him will fill you with life… and it does. You open your mouth, and you feel a groan in his chest where it’s flush with yours as he licks his tongue against yours. You let go of his hand to hold his face firmly in both of yours, pulling him into you. His arms wrap around your hips, pulling you into his lower half as his upper half chases your mouth. You kiss and kiss and kiss, soft but hungry, until you finally part, only your lips detaching from each other, the rest of your bodies still connected. Your thumbs rub his cheeks; his hands squeeze your hips; your noses bump into each other. 

“You still haven’t said anything…” you whisper. You expect him to retort that neither have you, to joke or complain or jokingly complain. 

Instead, after a gruff chuckle, he says, “I love you.” He turns his embrace into a full hug, his arms firmly around you, his head in the crook of your neck. You cling to him. 

“You’re my best friend, Y/N,” he goes on. “My best friend in the fucking world.” He leans back a bit to be able to look into your eyes as he goes on. “But you’re so much more than that too. You’re the fucking love of my life,” he says with a heartfelt chuckle. “And I am done not telling you that.” You bring his mouth to yours again, kissing him deeply.

“You’re mine too. I promise I won’t run away anymore. I’m sorry I —” 

“Don’t,” he cuts you off with a kiss, shaking his head. “I wish I’d told you sooner, but I’ve loved every minute with you. And now we have the rest of our lives to do this too.” With a cheeky smile, he kisses you again.

“I love you,” you tell him. He squeezes you tight and keeps kissing you. 

[carlottawllms]

A Gloomy Winter's Day

Mason Mount x Reader Fluff Word Count: 1.8K

Surprise ✨

The pictures of Mason training in the rain inspired me to write a little sth. Enjoy! And as always, feedback is very much appreciated! 🩷

You sighed quietly as your gaze followed the branches dancing in the rather strong gusts of wind scurrying through the garden every once in a while. It was one of those days when it was better not to set foot outside the door: The sky grey and filled with thick clouds hanging over Manchester, the air cold and on top of that it was drizzling with no end in sight.

When Mason had left the house this morning to go to training, you hadn’t envied him one bit. The look on his face had said everything about how happy he'd been about spending several hours outside, but given it was what paid the bills, he hadn’t had a choice. So after a kiss goodbye and a tired I love you, he’d reluctantly jogged to the car and driven off.

It was just a few days before Christmas so, unlike Mason, you were already off work and could stay at home, and now that you were observing the uncomfortable weather, you couldn't be happier about it.

After Mason had left, you’d put on some warm and cosy clothes and, after a bit of housekeeping, you’d moved to the fluffy carpet in the living room to wrap the rest of the presents. Initially, he’d wanted to do that himself and he’d kept saying he would for days now, but you knew he hated it and didn’t get along with the wrapping paper at all.

A yawn escaping you as you turned the page of your book made you realise that you should probably take a break from reading for and the clock striking three only confirmed your thoughts.

Mason should be on his way back in some mere minutes now, looking forward to a warm house and a relaxing afternoon on the sofa, so you quickly discarded your book to the coffee table and made your way upstairs.

You knew he’d be freezing after running around in the drizzle all morning and you hoped that throwing his jumper and a pair of joggers into the dryer would help him warm up once back home.

After a day like today, Mason had no particular interest in chatting or doing anything else after training so he quickly left Carrington and when he finally pulled the front door of your shared house shut behind him, he couldn't be happier.

Getting rid of his damp jacket and shoes, he trotted into the living room and the sight of you all cuddled up with your legs tucked up underneath your bum made him smile brightly.

This was home.

“Hi, love.”

“Hi.” You quickly unwrapped yourself from the blanket and got up to greet him with a hug. His nose was all cold as he nuzzled his face into your neck and out of reflex, you tried to pull away, but Mason’s grip around you only tightened.

“Mase, no”, you giggled, fighting his hold a little, but no matter how much you tried, he didn’t let go.

“No, you’re warm.”, he whined, face pressing even further into your neck. He felt this urge to push his hands underneath your jumper to feel your warm skin under his freezing hands, but he realised how cruel that would be.

“And you’re cold, baby.”, you laughed, pushing his shoulders a little in an attempt to get him to pull away and after another moment, Mason eventually did.

“Okay, okay.”, he grinned as he locked his gaze on yours. His big brown eyes all soft and full of love. “I missed you.”

The smile taking over his lips made the dimples pop and his eyes crinkle and you were once again reminded of how beautiful he was.

Mason’s grip around your waist tightened when he leaned down to close the gap and meet you in a gentle kiss.

“I missed you, too.”, you whispered against his cold lips, trying to keep him as close as possible. “There’s clothes in the dryer for you, they should be nice and warm by now. Go get changed and I’ll put the kettle on. A tea will warm you up nicely.”

“I know something else that would warm me up nicely.”, he grinned, cheekily pinching your bum.

“Mase.”, you rolled your eyes jokingly at him and his stupid innuendo. ‘If you behave you might get lucky tonight. For now, go upstairs and get changed or you’ll end up getting sick.”

“Fine.”, he grumbled, but the smile on his face gave him away. “I’ll be on my best behaviour then.”

With a pat to his bum, you sent him upstairs before hurrying into the kitchen where you put the kettle on. A tea and some good cuddles were the best thing after a long cold day and although you hadn’t done much today, you couldn’t wait to be on the sofa with him.

Just as you’d put the milk out and the water was about to be ready, you felt a pair of arms snaking around your middle and a warm body pressing up against your back.

“Thanks for warming my clothes, love.”, Mason whispered.  

He kissed your neck softly before burying his face in the crook of your neck and allowing his eyes to fall shut for a moment and your gentle scent to take over and relax him entirely. After running around on the pitch all morning, his legs were sore, and he couldn’t wait to flop down on the sofa with you.

“It smells amazing in here, by the way. What is it?”

“It’s a simmer pot. My mum used to put one up whenever the weather got like this and I thought I’d give it a try. It’s boiling water with oranges, apples, cinnamon sticks, vanilla and some cranberries.”, you explained, pointing out the pot you’d put up on the stove.

“I love it.”, Mason smiled. “Smells homely and comfy.”

“Thank you.” Carefully you poured the hot water into his mug and added the milk before turning in his arms. Your fingers traced his smooth, freckly cheeks – one of his favourite features of his. The hundreds of constellations on his skin like your personal map; a pathway into many universes only you got to explore. “C’mon, let’s get you on the sofa.”

Mason pecked your lips sweetly, fingers squeezing your waist before grabbing the mug and shuffling into the living room. He sat down first, thinking you’d simply cuddle up into his side, but you longed for something else, something closer to him so you placed your legs sideways over his, with your head leaning against his shoulder.

You hummed quietly as he snaked his arm around your waist to keep you close. His fingers running up and down your side and whilst he was sipping away on his tea, a peaceful silence fell over the two of you.

This was by far your favourite way to spend quality time with Mason. Obviously, there was nothing wrong with going out, seeing friends and getting to know new places and you enjoyed all of those things too, but with him being away so much and your stressful job, days like today; simply enjoying each other’s presence had become increasingly valuable to you.

You’d never seen yourself as someone who’d be comfortable in settling down like this, moving in with someone and picturing a whole future with a man, but then you’d met Mason and he’d changed everything. He’d filled a hole in your heart that you hadn’t known was there.

You were pulled from your thoughts when Mason stretched and placed his empty mug on the small side table.

“What about a nap, love?”, he asked, wrapping both his arms around you now and squeezing you to his body. “I feel like we haven’t had one together in forever. I miss cuddling you.”

“We cuddle every night whilst falling asleep.”, you laughed; one of your hands reaching up to scratch the back of his neck gently.

“Nah, that’s different.”

“Oh, yeah? How so?”

“I don’t know it’s just…when we go to bed, I’m all focussed on actually falling asleep, like I can’t enjoy having you in my arms properly. I- Don’t get me wrong, I still enjoy it, it’s just…like when we take a nap, I don’t have to fall asleep, so I can focus on you and your warmth and how much I love having you in my arms. It’s…Now that I said it out loud, I feel like it made more sense I my head to be honest.”

You didn’t have to look at him to know he was blushing, but his words had made you feel all warm and mushy.

“It makes perfect sense, Mase.”, you said softly. Nuzzling your nose against the soft skin of his neck, you breathed him in. “It’s like a short pause from life where you don’t have to sleep, but simply snooze away a little whilst properly enjoying each other’s company.”

“Yes.” Mason kissed the part of your face he could reach without pulling you out of his neck. “It’s one of my favourite things to do actually.”

“Mine too.”, you smiled after pulling away from him a little and once you’d locked your eyes on his and cupped his jaw you kissed him lovingly.

A few minutes later you were eventually cuddled up under a fluffy blanket. You half on top of him, your leg trapped in between his and his arms wrapped tightly around you, making sure you felt as safe and warm as possible. After a while, you felt him sneaking his hand under your jumper and you hummed in content at the way he ran it up and down your spine.

“I love you, Mase.”

It wasn’t more than a quiet whisper, but Mason still heard you and just as always, his heart flipped in his chest. Those three words, whether they were whispered, written, said or shouted, would never fail to make him feel warm and fuzzy and overall happy.

When he’d met you, he’d never thought you could fall for him, and it was still hard to believe that he got to have you by his side day by day.

“I love you, too, y/n. So much.”

Mason continued to caress your back until after a while his movements slowed down and eventually stopped entirely. By his deep and even breathing you could tell that he’d fallen asleep, and it didn’t take you long to follow and nod off yourself.

—————

I genuinely hope you enjoyed reading this. You would make my day if you left a little feedback so I can see what you liked and what I can improve on 🩷

[pretentious-blonde]

sweetness

pairing: remus lupin x reader

summary: a cozy afternoon of baking turns tender, remus can't help but fuss when you injure yourself, no matter how small

warnings: blood, cut, knife, injury, sap remus

a/n: idk i thought this was sweet

The kitchen was warm and cosy, the sounds of the radio filled the room with a gentle melody. The counters were a mess of flour and cocoa powder, illuminated by the afternoon light that filtered through the curtains. Remus was beside you, shoulder to shoulder. Both giggling and chatting as you worked through the process of making some cookies as a treat. 

He was measuring the dry ingredients, his green jumper sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, brow furrowed in concentration as his eyes were fixed on the small numbers on the scale. You were next to him, wielding a knife as you chopped up a large block of chocolate into jagged chunks to be added to the mixture. 

“You know,” he began, eyes glancing over at you with a lopsided grin. “I think we could have just used the chocolate chips in the cupboard. This seems a bit excessive.”

You shake your head at his statement, eyes determined as you slice through another piece of thick chocolate. 

“Nope,” you said firmly. “I read somewhere that using chopped chocolate makes the cookies better because it melts differently.”

“If you say so, dove,” He chuckled, turning his head sharply to get the stray hairs off his forehead, returning his focus to the bowl in front of him. “Just try not to lose any fingers in the process.”

“I’m fine,” you huff with mock annoyance. “I’m an adult. I think I can handle cutting up some chocolate.”

As if on cue, the knife in your hand slipped, a sharp pain that shot through your finger followed. You yelped out, the knife clattering to the counter as you cradled your hand, eyes widening in shock. 

“Shit!” You exclaimed, now looking at the small but steadily bleeding cut on your index finger. 

Remus’s head whipped around immediately when he heard the sound, his heart leaping with alarm as he took in the sight of you clutching your hand, blood trickling down your finger. 

“Oh, bloody hell,” he muttered under his breath as he dropped the spoon he was holding, rushing over to you. “What did I just say?”

You glanced up at him, giving him a sheepish look, biting your lip as you tried to downplay the situation. “It’s just a little cut. Nothing to—“

“Nothing to worry about?’ He interrupted you, his voice gentle but filled with concern. He frowned at his took your hand in his and examined it. He hated seeing you hurt. Hated it more than anything. “Sweetheart, you’re bleeding on the counter.” 

“I’m not bleeding that much,” you grumble at his fussing. You hiss as he presses a clean tea towel against your finger, he apologises under his breath. 

“Honestly, darling, what am I going to do with you?” He asks. He leaves you to hold the cloth against your finger, turning to grab the first aid kit from under the sink. A must-have when you are around, 

“This might sting a little,” he warned you as he pulled out the small bottle of antiseptic, eyes meeting you apologetically as he tried to reassure you. 

You nodded, permitting him, holding your hand out to him. His movements were careful as he dabbed your cut, the stong was sharp but fleeting. He was focused, his touch tender and precise as he worked quickly, wanting you to be in as little pain as possible. Your heart softened as you watched him, his brows furrowed in concentration, lips pressed into a thin line.

“There,” he murmured as he finished wrapping the bandage around your finger. “All done. You’re officially banned from using sharp objects for the rest of the day.”

“I’m fine,” you rolled your eyes and pouted, he couldn’t help but smile at your sweet expression. “It’s just a tiny cut, I can still help.”

He shot you a look, brown eyes stern but affectionate, he moved his hands to your hips as he lifted you effortlessly onto the counter. 

“Nope,” he tells you, letting his hands linger on your thighs as he looks down at you. “You’re staying right here, dove. No more blood in the cookies.”

“I’m not dying,” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest as you continue to pout. “I can still chop chocolate.”

He arched a brow, eyes teasing as he approached the counter where you previously worked. His fingers snatched a piece of rogue chocolate, and before you could protest, he popped it in your mouth, letting his thumb brush your bottom lip as he did so. 

“Your job,” he begins, his voice low and warm. “Is to sit here, look pretty, and taste the chocolate. I’ll take care of the rest.”

You blinked up at him, cheeks flushing as you chewed, face scrunching up in irritation as his words sunk in. 

He couldn’t help but smile, amused as he turned back towards the mixing bowl. “What? It’s an important job. Someone has to make sure it’s not poisoned.”

“So dramatic,” you tease as you swallow the chocolate. 

“Perhaps,” he shrugged his shoulders, voice light as he measured out some sugar. “But you love me so…”

“Yeah,” you giggle, a smile spreading across your face, irritation melting away completely. “I really do.”

The boy looked over at you, expression softening as he heard your words. He had heard them a hundred times before, but they never failed to catch him off guard. Especially when said in that earnest, sweet way you always did. 

He stepped forward, large hand cupping your cheek as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I love you too, dove.”

You felt your heart swell, your chest tightening with the overwhelming rush of love you felt for this man.

“Now,” he said, clearing his throat, attempting to hide how flustered he was. He grabbed a wooden spoon and began stirring, motioning in your direction. “You sit there and be good, I’ll finish up here. No more getting hurt on my watch, alright?”

You sighed, but there was no real frustration in the sound, just warm, contented happiness as you watched him work. “Alright, alright. I’ll be good.”

“Good girl,” he tells you warmly, holding up the bowl towards you. “Now, would you like to taste the dough? Make sure it’s not too sweet?”

You rolled your eyes but reached out towards him. He knew you too well. 

“Fine, just a taste.”

He scooped up a bit of the dough and held it up to your lips. “Open up, love.”

You leaned forward,eyes never leaving his as you tasted the dough, your smile widening at the sweet flavour. 

“It’s perfect,” you said around the mouthful, voice slightly muffled.

Remus chuckled, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your lips. “Just like you.”

[gigglesandfreckles-hp]

What about 'What time is it?' with James falling asleep on Lily? 😇😙

from this prompt list

She’s awful.

Actually, really, truly awful because he has a date tomorrow—and so does she for that matter—and he expressed wanting to get to bed at a decent time hours ago. But now that he’s gone and fallen asleep right here on the couch next to her, his head on her shoulder, she can’t find the will to wake him and send him upstairs to his own room.

There are a few reasons, of course, because Lily Evans is a rational girl. The first reason is that he smells like a dream and she knows it has to be some sort of Sleekeazy product that he’d probably flush with embarrassment over if she asked him about it while he was awake. The second reason is that he’s been exhausted and it feels a bit cruel to deprive him of what seems to be a rare moment of rest.

The third reason is that she’s a little bit in love with him.

That’s neither here nor there, though, because he’s made it incredibly evident that his feelings for her are incredibly platonic. And the thing is, she likes Robbie Carrillo. He’s intelligent and kind, and he gave her his notes from Ancient Runes when she missed class while meeting with McGonagall last week. But he’s not James and she’s not in love with him.

She looks down at James now, studying the way his dark lashes fan out against his cheeks, his specs askew and nearly falling off his nose. Lily shifts slightly, and his head nestles deeper into the crook of her neck, sending a small half-shiver down her spine. She bites her lip, suppressing a smile, and carefully reaches up to remove his glasses, so they don’t fall off and wake him. 

“Well, isn’t this cosy.”

Lily’s eyes narrow as she glares at the smirking boy who’s come to a stop in front of the couch, his arms crossed. “Bugger off, Black.”

Sirius’s grin only widens. “Should I bring down his blankie?”

James stirs on her shoulder. “Wha—hm?”

Lily’s gaze flicks sharply from Sirius to James, whose sleep-muddled face is now slowly coming into focus. His lips move in a series of incoherent murmurs, his eyes blinking open and closed as he tries to make sense of his surroundings.

He turns his head, squinting at Lily. “Can’t…”

She picks his specs up from the table and gently places them back on his face. He blinks slowly several times, then smiles at her in appreciation. “Thanks.”

“Fucking hell,” Sirius groans, rolling his eyes. “I’m going back to bed. Just came down to make sure you were still alive. You coming, Prongs?”

James stretches, his body protesting as he slowly sits up, the jumper Lily tossed over him falling away to reveal a dishevelled state. He rubs at his eyes, still half-asleep but clearly more aware now.

“Bed?” he asks, his voice thick with sleep.

“Yeah,” Sirius drawls, “it’s that thing upstairs that you evidently want to—”

“Padfoot.”

Sirius’s eyes narrow at James’s interruption, but after a rapid, silent exchange, Sirius sighs long-sufferingly and retreats up the stairs without another word.

“What time is it?” James asks, after they’ve both watched Sirius disappear.

Lily glances down at her watch. “Late. Really late.”

James closes his eyes again, tilting his head back against the cushions, his face turned up toward the dim ceiling of the common room. He stretches out his legs, trying to ease the tension from his muscles, and rubs at his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Did we finish the patrol schedule?” he asks, his voice a groggy murmur.

“We can finish tomorrow.”

He groans and sits back up, the movement causing his glasses to slide further down his nose. He stares at the empty space where Sirius had been, his shoulders slumping. “I swear it never ends.”

“Sirius is right,” Lily says. “You should go to bed.”

His head falls back onto her shoulder, his warm breath tickling her neck. “I was quite comfortable before, you know.”

Her stomach flops over itself at the closeness, but she keeps her voice even and light. “Oh, is that right?”

“Mhm,” he hums into her neck, his lips brushing softly against her skin, and she does not shiver at the sensation, thank you very much. “Think you’ve got real…career potential, Evans.”

“As a pillow?” She snorts softly, her eyes darting to the side as she tries to ignore the way her cheeks are heating up. “What the hell am I doing all this Arithmancy revising for then?”

He laughs against her, the sound vibrating pleasantly through her shoulder. He shifts, the cool metal of his glasses momentarily pressing against her skin. “Dunno. Should drop out. Devote yourself to this. Being soft and smelling good and—” He stops talking and shifts away from her neck, his face turning slightly pink. “Sorry. That was…weird. I’m knackered and—”

“It’s fine,” she says quickly, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink. She keeps her eyes trained on her lap, her fingers nervously fiddling with the edge of her skirt.

“I probably should go to bed. I—” He sits up slowly, running a hand through his hair, which now falls messily across his forehead. He avoids her gaze, focusing instead on the floor.  “You’ve got a date tomorrow, yeah? With, er…Carrillo, was it?”

She nods. “Yeah. And you’re taking…Diana, right?”

“Yep.”

“Cool.”

“Super cool.” There’s a brief pause, during which he fidgets awkwardly. “So…anyway. Good night, Evans. We’ll finish the schedule tomorrow night. Thanks again for letting me sleep with you. On you! On you. Your shoulder. I—” He sputters to a stop, running a hand over his face, his cheeks flushed a deep crimson. “Merlin. I have to go to bed. Immediately.” 

He stands up from the couch, his movements slightly unsteady as he gathers his belongings. As he turns back toward the couch, he leans over and gently presses a kiss to Lily’s cheek. Her entire body goes rigid at the unexpected touch, and he freezes, his lips lingering for a heartbeat longer before he jerks back, his face now mirroring her shock.

Lily swallows, her pulse racing. “Er—”

He stumbles backward, taking three large steps away from the couch, his eyes wide with embarrassment.

“Fucking hell,” he groans, running a hand through his disheveled hair.“Sorry, I don’t—my brain is rebelling against me. I’m so…I swear I don’t know what’s going on.”

Lily laughs awkwardly, her cheeks still warm. “It’s fine. Just…get some sleep, Potter.”

“Right. Right.” He nods vigorously, still looking flustered. “Er, enjoy your...date.”

She won't. She absolutely, positively won't.

(But she'll enjoy the one next month and all the rest after that.)

[fxlling13]

Spooky Season

Dh!Master x (fem)!reader

Wc:2.8k

Fluff fluff fluff.

Synopsis: The Doctor takes everyone to a cosy little pumpkin farm

“You make me laugh, (y/n).” Yaz scoffed as you walked into the console room. “It’s September the first, and you’re wearing a pumpkin sweater?” She laughed, leaning back on the console. You nod quickly, standing at the top of the steps.

“Of course! September first is the start of spooky season.” You explained, sitting a few stairs down. The pair of you giggled, she knew of your love for the ‘ber’ months. In fact, she helped you indulge in it, getting you a themed blanket the year prior.

“Do you think The Doctor will let me decorate my room here?”

“Oh yeah, she loves fun things. Not sure she’ll be a fan of all the black though.” Yaz realised, thinking for a moment. “It’s fine, you can bond with Mr Grumpy!” She beamed, making your brows crease.

“Mr Grumpy?” You asked with amusement, knowing full well who she was referring to.

“Well, he is moody.” Yaz chuckled. “But he loves dark and gloomy things. He dresses like a gothic vampire most days, in that Victorian coat.”

“It looks good though.” You mumbled and Yaz shook her head at you. Just then, The Doctor jogged into the room with a big smile on her face.

“Ah, you’re both here already!” She stood by Yaz, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Talking about anything interesting?”

“Just (y/n)’s love for autumn.” Humming in acknowledged, the blonde smiled at you.

”Yeah? Lots happen at the end of the year on earth, Halloween. Christmas.” She recalled, looking up at the ceiling in wonder.

“Halloween is the best!” You clarified, making the girls laugh a bit more. From nowhere, hands landed on your shoulders with a jolt.

“Boo.” A deep voice spoke loudly by your ear at the same time. You yelped, flinching violently. When you glanced back, you found The Master leering proudly.

“What? You just said you liked Halloween.” He shrugged, walking past you down the steps. Once at the bottom, he turned back to you and nod to himself slowly.

“Nice jumper.” He commented, your lips turning up again. You were wearing a black jumper, with different sized pumpkins sewn throughout. They were all odd styles and colours.

“Thank you.” For a minute, he froze, before pulling himself away and looking at the others.

“So what sappy place are you taking us today?” The Master asked, hoping no one had noticed his odd behaviour. The Doctor ran around the console.

“Well, considering the topic of this morning. How about a farm?” She suggested, already flicking buttons and other controls.

“A farm?” Yaz frowned.

“Yeah! With a pumpkin patch!” She boasted, making the girl smile again.

“Really?” You stood up hopefully.

“Yeah. It’ll be great. We can get as many as you guys want. Oh! And there’s a cafe there so we can get food!” Clearly, she was more excited about the idea than even you were. Still, you nod happily. The Tardis landed with a thud, sending everyone flying. You tumbled down the steps, The Master easily catching you. Holding under your arms, he smiled cockily.

“Falling for me?” You went red, pulling away fast.

“In your dreams.”

“Ok you two, stop flirting. Pumpkins to pick!” Yaz chortled, not helping your flushed state at all. Shaking her head, The Doctor pulled Yaz outside with a huff. The Master, still smiling, extended his hand towards you. You raised your eyebrows.

“Come on, you can at least hold my hand right? Or is that too much?” He joked, but you held his hand regardless, allowing him to guide you out of the tardis. It was sunny outside, but not too warm with a small breeze. Having landed in a woodland area, your small group walked for a few minutes before seeing the white farm building. The chipped walls were enough to tell you just how old it was, sat on vast, lush land. There were animals dotted around some of the fields, a path heading up a small hill. Upon getting to the farm, you were greeted by an old lady.

“Here for the pumpkin festival dears?” She inquired, face filled with joy. There were many others already there, mostly families and couples.

“Yep.” Yaz stepped forwards, pulling out her phone and paying for your tickets. Being let through, you walked by her side, tugging the male along.

“You didn’t have to pay for us all.”

“It’s fine. Lunch is on you.” She chuckled, nudging you playfully. But you smiled, happy with that arrangement. Traipsing up the shallow hill, you came to find the pumpkin patch. Surrounded by a worn, dark oak fence, it had a wooden arch as its entrance. On a big sign above, “pumpkins here” was written in cursive, expertly done. Rows of the root grown plant went on far and wide, people of all ages trying to find the perfect one.

“We’ll meet you down by the cafe.” Yaz said, hastily taking the Doctor off in a random direction.

“And then there were two.” The Master drawled, looking down at you.

“Awe don’t sound so happy. I know you love me really.” You elbowed him gently, walking ahead into the vast amounts of orange and green. He watched you for a minute, unaware that he was smiling. Turning back, you tilted your head. “Come on!” You reached out, the man chuckling and joining you swiftly. He followed behind you, your hair swishing with every step.

“We have to find the most round, most plump, most orange pumpkins to carve.” You said with certainty, scanning your surrounding area.

“Hm. If you say so.” The Master started walking by your side. “Why plump?”

“So I can use the innards to bake.” You clarified.

“You said that so…threateningly.” He laughed, placing a hand on your back as you both went along. Leaning closer to the man, you felt more relaxed that way.

“That one!” You almost yelled, carefully running between the vines. The Master observed you with fondness, going at a much more casual pace.

“This one?” He asked, standing opposite you. You nod, eyeing the large pumpkin. “It’s massive, (y/n).”

“Exactly. It’s perfect!” When you smiled at him, he was already doing the same. There was a look in his eye that you just couldn’t describe, almost like he was entranced. Trying not to get flustered from his intense gaze, you moved to pick the pumpkin up. In a flash, The Master was behind you, his hands on your waist and stopping you from bending. Your cheeks went red, looking back at him with a bashful confusion.

“You’re wearing a skirt.” He stated simply, not letting you go. “There’s lots of men around here.”

“There’s girls too.” You pointed out, a slight wobble in your inflection. Humming, he turned you to face him and brushed your hair back.

“Statistically, men are more likely to be predatory. And I don’t really want other men looking at you like that.” The Master spoke sternly, making your blush worsen.

“So you tell me what it is you’ll like, and I’ll do the lifting. Okay?” It was more of an instruction than a question, but you bobbed your head regardless. Grinning, he kissed your head sweetly, before bending down and cutting the stalk carefully. Still in shock, you just gawked at the noirette. Once the pumpkin was free, he lifted it with ease.

“Wait, other men?” You realised what he said, eyes shooting to him once again. He just shrugged nonchalantly.

“See any others you like, dear?” Your heart was hammering in your chest, all the while he seemed unfazed. Shaking your head, you started looking around once again. When your head was turned, you couldn’t hide your shy smile.

———

Three pumpkins and a wheelbarrow later, the two of you went to pay. There was a small gazebos at the top of the hill you had climbed. A man stood inside, with his cash box and weighing scale. The Master wheeled the pumpkins to him, greeting the man quietly. Going to pull out your phone, he stopped you quickly.

“I dropped something.”

“What?” You were perplexed.

“Outside, I’m pretty sure I did.” He said, hands searching his coat.

“What do you even own?” You asked and he just gave you a serious look. Realising it may have been some sort of weapon, you rolled your eyes before looking at the man. “I’ll be two seconds.” You apologised before heading back outside. After scouring the area nearby, you found nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing at all. Even with all the children around, the grass was clear. “Ready to meet the others?” You jumped, finding The Master, and wheelbarrow, now behind you.

“Hey I haven’t paid yet.”

“No. I did.” He shrugged, placing a hand on his hip. Your face softened, taking a few steps forwards.

“You did?” You asked bewildered, struggling to keep up as he made his way back down the hill.

“Yep. Do you think people will take them if we leave them out here?”

“Huh? Oh no. They have the red stickers on them.” You answered still confused, watching as he left them by the entrance to the cafe.

“Yes but humans are conniving and selfish.” He spat, earning a hurt look from you. Letting out a breath, The Master moved and cupped your cheeks. “You don’t count, obviously.” You couldn’t help your smile, leaning into his hand contently.

“Thank you, for buying them.”

“You’re welcome, sweets.” He laced your fingers together, guiding you into the cafe. It wasn’t a very big building, but spacious enough that it was cozy. With a cracking fire on the back wall, rustic brick walls and old wooden floors, you loved it. The Master took you to the table right by the fire, allowing you to sit closest to it. You smiled widely, shuffling closer to him once he sat too.

“How long do you think the others will be?” You pondered, admiring the paintings in the room.

“No idea, you know how The Doctor is. She’s like a magpie.” He muttered, picking up a menu and letting out a breath. After a moment of internal debating, you rested your head on his shoulder. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to mind at all, adjusting so you could see the menu too.

“I think you’ll want this page.” He flipped to the other side, showing you the different cakes, bakes, cookies and more. Pressing your cheek to his arm, you giggled quietly.

“You know me so well.” You commented, eyes flittering over all the options.

“Of course, I do notice these things.” The Master said, looking at you proudly. Pressing your lips together, you suppressed your happiness badly.

“You’re quite sweet. Even with all the evil plans you have.”

“Ah, but you’re always safe with me, are you not?” He pointed out, clearly smug.

“Of course I am.” Hugging onto his arm, you began to feel doubt and nerves creep into your mind. Even though he didn’t seem to mind, you found yourself asking, “Doesn’t it bother you?”

“What?”

“Well, I know you’re not a very touchy, affectionate person. And I am. So does it not bother you? That I’m like this?” You kept your eyes on the table as you spoke, on the different shades of wood-stain used. Tentatively, The Master tilted your chin up trying to meet your gaze.

“It’s different when it’s you.” He reassured, thumbing the apple of your cheek. “My emotional support human.” You blushed, lips twitching up slightly. “Plus, you’re different. You’re spooky. I like it.”

“Like a witch?” You beamed, back to your normal self.

“No, you’re far prettier than a witch.” He chuckled, causing you to cover your face in embarrassment.

“What have we walked in on then?” The Doctors voice came from nowhere, but you were unmoved. Huffing in annoyance, the male just looked at her bored.

“Nothing. Hurry up and look at the menu. We’re hungry.”

“Alright calm down.” Yaz laughed, looking along with the blonde. “Oh I don’t know.” She mumbled, rereading it again.

“You’ll get something warm, like soup.” Both women looked at him with surprise.

“Yeah you’re right I was going to. How did you know that?” Yaz almost laughed again, letting The Doctor take the menu for herself.

“Because you always do. Just Like The Doctor will get the custard tart.”

“Oh custard tart!” The Doctor beamed at the exact time The Master said it. She looked over at him with a faux glare. You giggled, watching them interact.

“See, I’m very attentive.” The Master boasted, subtly bringing you closer as he moved. Sadly, he had to stand up. “Shall we do the ordering?” He asked his old friend, to which she nod and got to her feet.

“Wait I didn’t even tell you what I picked.” You said quickly, sitting straight. Simpering, he just pat your head twice then went to the counter with The Doctor.

“He’s so into you.” Yaz spoke, gaining your full attention. You blushed, shrugging softly.

“You think so?”

“Even The Doctor knows, (y/n).” She pointed out, putting the sugar jar in front of her girlfriend’s place ready. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. “Look at you. You’re lovesick.”

“Oh stop it.” You shot back weakly, earning a chortle from her. Turning around, you observed the aliens in such a human setting with fondness. “Can I be a bridesmaid?” She asked, resting her head on her hands. You just scoffed returning to face her.

“Only if I can be for you too.”

“Oh, of course. Who else would I pick?” The pair of you laughed together, unaware of the others coming back. The Doctor carefully placed a tray on the table, sliding it into the middle.

“What are you two giggling about?” She questioned, sitting once again.

“Nothing important.”

“Yeah nothing for you two to know about.” You confirmed, The Master taking his seat next to you.

“Yet.” Yaz finished, causing another fit of laughs. The time lords exchanged looks, as if speaking through osmosis. Humming, the man put a teapot in front of you, along with a mug and small pot of milk.

“Whatever you say.” He murmured, your eyes lighting up when you saw the brownie he had gotten you.

“Before you ask, yes it’s been warmed up. And-“ he took a small dish and sat it next to your cup. “-cream to your liking.”

“Thank you.” You smiled happily, making yourself a nice cup of tea. The Doctor did indeed have a custard tart, as Yaz had a bowl of steaming tomato soup.

“You three and your sweet tooth’s.” Yaz rolled her eyes, buttering her bread. Turning your head, you saw that The Master had gotten himself a slice of cake. With a cherry on top too. A glacier cherry.

“Do you want it?” He suddenly asked, making you jump a bit. You furrowed your brows, him putting the sugary ‘fruit’ onto your brownie before you could speak.

“They’re more sappy than us.” The Doctor commented, adding multiple sugars to her brew.

“I know. And they’re not even dating.” Yaz added with a grin. You busied yourself with adding a bit of cream and nibbling on your brownie.

“Give us time.” The Master casually said, causing you to choke. He was quick to pat your back. “Easy love, I need you alive for that to happen.”

“Leave the poor girl alone.” The Doctor laughed, handing you a napkin. Your cheeks were bright red, heart racing as you wiped your mouth. Still, you were smiling, gazing up at The Master shyly. He smiled back, giving your nose an affectionate tap before sipping his coffee.

“So after here, let’s watch horror movies while we carve them yeah?” Yaz was sounding more autumnal now, eagerly suggesting her idea.

“That sounds perfect, what film?” The Doctor glanced at everyone there.

“I say The Exorcist.” The Master added his input, the group collectively groaning.

“Maybe after, on the sofa where we can all huddle up?” The blonde prompted, earning a reluctant nod.

“How about scream?” You recommended, getting a more positive reaction.

“Then it’s settled, what a great day this is ‘ay?” Even The Doctor was getting giddier than usual.

“See? It’s good to start celebrating spooky season early.” There was a snarky tone in your inflection, proving your earlier point to Yaz. Unbeknownst to you, The Master stared at you proudly, loving your cockiness.

“Fine, you were right.” She agreed, putting her spoon down before stirring her iced latte. “You two are like The Addams Family.”

“Oh I like that.” The Master leered, putting an arm around your shoulders possessively. Bashful, you leant into his hold and nod in approval. The four of you sat in close comfort, eating your food and drinking your seasonal drinks. Outside the wind was blustering, amber leaves falling from trees and making footsteps crunch. It really was the best time of the year.