#i feel like i should tag this as something so i don't get jumped but idk if that's still the vibe here kfdjglkjdfh

[mybelovedfleur]

,,𝐵𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓃𝓃𝒶" 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝐼𝐼

(Yandere!Silco x Amnesiac!Fem!Reader)

!TW! FantasyAU! Heavy Yandere Themes, Silco is ooc for sure, vomiting, sick!reader, violence, mention of death, violence, dark yandere, I will tag every chapter seperately! :)

Description: ,, A series of unfortunate events causes you to completely lose your memory. Now, you find yourself thrust into the role of the Duchess of Zaun, married to a man you don’t recognize. But was this ever truly your life? And why does the scent of blood cling to you, no matter where you go? "

Note: english is NOT my first language, I am very much open for critique and suggestions but pls be nice and respectful :c I DO NOT support any of these behaviors!

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─

Silco leaned over you, concern in his eyes, as if the slightest sign of your pain hurt him just as much. He carefully adjusted the pillow so that you could comfortably rest your injured head on it.

"Do you feel worse? Should I get a doctor?" he whispered with tension in his voice, the trembling note betraying how much he cared about your health.

You haven't shown the slightest interest in leaving your bed all morning - a completely different behavior from your determination yesterday.

No wonder Silco noticed it right away. Seeing that you didn't even try to get up to eat breakfast, he became clearly worried. From that moment on, he constantly circled you like a tireless bee, trying to help you in every way possible. Instead of comforting you, his excessive concern began to irritate you - it was the first time he seemed so burdensome. You were overwhelmed by the dark memories of the nightmare that still weighed on your mind, and Silco didn't give you a moment's respite to simply delve into your own thoughts.

,,I feel like I always do, I just don't have the strength. It's nothing serious" you said, finally trying to calm him down. But Silco didn't look convinced. His gaze wandered over your body, as if stubbornly searching for something that could betray you

,,I have an important meeting today... " he whispered under his breath, clearly to himself, but you heard it clearly. You didn't have time to say anything, because his gaze fell roght back on your face.

,, It doesn't matter" he said in a confident tone, his voice firm" I'll stay with you"

If you had more strength, and the wound on the back of your head wasn't throbbing with irritating pain, you would have surely jumped up.

"No, please..." you said pleadingly, staring at him. "I don't want to be a burden again. You hardly leave my side anyway"

Silco froze for a moment, as if your words had hurt him more than he would like to admit. When he finally spoke, his tone was unexpectedly serious.

"Don't ever say that again" he said firmly.

You sighed, feeling the weight of guilt gripping your heart."I just don't want to stop you," you began quietly, struggling to gather your thoughts. 

"I want to prove to both of us that I can handle myself, even in times like these. If you go to this meeting... I'll be truly happy"

Silco stood up and began to pace nervously around the room, you could almost hear the grinding of his teeth. His hand involuntarily went to the scarred side of his face, which he rubbed as if trying to quell the growing frustration. You waited tensely, holding your breath, wondering if your words had angered him.

"The servants are well trained" he finally said, his voice full of reluctance, as if each word was difficult for him. "They know what to do. Don't hesitate to send for me if something happens, or if you simply need me."

His gaze finally met yours.

"I'll drop everything and come to you" he added with such intensity that you had no doubts about the sincerity of his words.

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─ 

It wasn't like you hadn't noticed the estate workers before – they were there, but rather like shadows moving in the background, silently carrying out your husband's orders. They were the ones who helped you with more intimate activities, such as changing or washing. Although it made things easier for you, you quickly noticed that Silco approached this matter with clear reluctance.

When you first asked for a new nightgown and the opportunity to wash up, he fulfilled your wish almost immediately. However, his reaction to this request exceeded your expectations - before you knew it, he was already filling the bathtub with water, sitting you on the stool next to it. When with unwavering determination he wanted to help you take off your clothes, you felt your face immediately turn red like a beetroot.

Embarrassed, you calmly asked him to let you do it yourself. His expression was hard to read - as if he was fighting with his thoughts. From that moment on, he waited for you outside the bathroom door, visibly anxious and even outraged whenever one of the servants helped you with something that he felt should have been his role.

 Now, you had a real chance to make contact with them, maybe even have a short conversation. Up until now, everything you knew about your life had come from Silco's mouth. His stories, while very romantic, were undoubtedly tinged with his feelings, perhaps even idealized – which was no surprise, considering the way he was devoted to his role as your loving husband.

The prospect of hearing something about yourself from an outsider, someone who wasn't emotionally attached to you, seemed almost exciting. It could be a chance to look at your life from a different perspective – and perhaps discover something new about yourself.

You were being looked after by three women: two middle-aged and one clearly younger. They were all dressed in impeccably ironed black uniforms that emphasized their professionalism. They moved around you with mechanical precision – their movements were so perfect and synchronized that they almost resembled some sort of machines. Silco wasn't exaggerating when he said that they were highly trained.

 Your ambitious plans to start a conversation didn't go so well at first. You were too nervous, and their distant attitude only increased your embarrassment.

It was only when the younger girl was left alone in the room to change the sheets on the bed that you felt it was the right moment to speak up. So you broke through, saying the first words

"What's your name?" you asked, trying to make your voice sound natural, although you yourself felt slightly embarrassed. The girl, noticeably surprised, stopped for a moment, as if wondering what she should do, whether to answer you at all.

 A moment of silence passed, which seemed to last forever, before finally, with a nervousness in her voice, she answered

"Erin, my lady"  she somehow radiated a warmth that immediately worked in your favor, and you felt your self-confidence begin to grow.

"Erin" you repeated. 

You noticed how the girl visibly relaxed, and a delicate, almost shy smile appeared on her face.

"Tell me, how long have you been working here?" she put down the pillow she was working on and finally turned her full attention to you.

"Only a month, Ma'am" she replied. As soon as you heard her words, you sighed with resignation.

"The entire staff has been here for a month" she added quickly. At these words, you looked up, and your eyes narrowed in a sign of dissatisfaction and suspicion.

"How so?"

The girl, now clearly regretting speaking, began nervously adjusting her uniform.

"The Duke replaced the entire staff after your accident," she explained quickly, as if these words were supposed to calm the situation, although they had the opposite effect.

You wanted to ask for details, for reasons, for what exactly had happened, but before you could say anything, the door flew open. One of the older women entered the room with a silver tray full of medicines.

The older woman gave the girl a reprimanding look that was telling enough for the young maid to immediately return to her work, lowering her gaze like a guilty child.

When the servants finished their duties, both women bowed low and asked if you needed anything else. You forced yourself to briefly deny it, even though your thoughts were screaming to stop them and force out more information. A moment later, the door closed behind them, leaving you alone in the room, again.

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─ 

By the end of the day, your strength had returned, at least enough to get out of bed and sit on the edge. You still felt a slight weakness in your legs, but the knowledge that at least you had managed to overcome your constant fatigue was comforting. On the nightstand stood a silver tray of medicines – the same tablets whose bitter taste made you nauseous, and whose effects locked you in a numbing fog. You looked at them with reluctance, the dark purple – almost black liquid standing in the cup almost made you nauseous by its very sight. A decision was made in your head – not now. You would use this moment, when your body finally did not betray you, and Silco did not hover nearby like a guard watching over a prisoner.

Without the constant feeling of sleepiness, you finally felt like your thoughts were your own—clear, clear, unencumbered by the fog of medication. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you could look at your situation clearly. For days, weeks, maybe even longer, you felt like Silco had not only taken control of your life, but also of what you thought and felt. His words, his presence, even his care—all seemed to shape your reality.

But now, as that grip eased, the truth began to weigh on you, something here was wrong. The situation you found yourself in was far from normal, no matter how beautifully Silco tried to present it. There were too many of his versions of events in this story, his sweet promises, his comfortable half-truths. And the answers you were desperately searching for? There were none. There were only gaps, silence, and then his narrative again. You could see it clearly now—and it was that clarity of mind that made the weight of it all seem unbearable.

You knew that if you wanted to regain even a shred of sanity, you had to get out of this room—this claustrophobic prison where everything seemed to reek of control. You wanted to feel the fresh air, to touch the earth in the garden that had only existed for you as a view through closed, unyielding windows.

But you couldn't. Your body was betraying you, just as it had been betraying you all these days. You knew that if you tried, your legs would give out and you would eventually collapse to the floor—helpless, weak, unable to even get up. The arms that should have held you up would fail. Your imagination showed you the image of Silco entering the room, of you lying there—motionless, completely defenseless, yet more proof that you should have listened to his commands.

The thought squeezed you from the inside, and the frustration you had tried to suppress surged like a wave. You felt the stinging tears welling up in your eyes, the helplessness choking you in your throat. You yearned for freedom so much, but you were a prisoner of your own body.

As if all that wasn't enough, you still felt the weight of your nightmare from today, never leaving you. It lingered in the back of your mind like a persistent shadow, blurry but still clear enough to send shivers down your spine. There was something disturbingly familiar about the nightmare, something that wouldn't leave you alone.

Raised voices could be heard from behind the door leading to Silco's office. They were muffled, but their tone indicated that this was no ordinary conversation - it was an argument. You easily recognized one of the voices as Silco's. The other voice, however, was unfamiliar to you, although unlike your husband, he didn't care about the volume of his tone, probably not knowing that someone on the other side could hear them, the words were still too distorted for you to understand anything.

Your eyes automatically went to the tray of medicines, and then to the door leading to the office. Common sense told you to stay in bed, but something else - curiosity, anxiety, maybe even instinct - told you to act. Pushing aside all logical thoughts, you slowly shifted on the bed, trying to get closer to the source of the sound. However, despite your efforts, the voices were still indistinct, and frustration grew inside you.In a burst of courage—or perhaps mad stupidity—you decided to do something more. 

You grabbed the bed frame, bracing your shaking hands on it, and struggled to your feet. The wall was your only support as you took your first step toward the door.

When you reached your destination, your heart started beating faster, but this time not from the effort, but from relief. You made it – for the first time, you had crossed the entire room without anyone's help. But that feeling of pride only lasted a moment, because suddenly you heard the slam of the office door and quick footsteps, clearly heading your way. Your heart froze in your chest. You didn't have time to back up or think about what to do. 

The door opened abruptly, almost hitting you in the face. You were leaning against the door frame and the handle to keep your balance, but the sudden movement took away all of your support. The world around you blurred, and you felt yourself starting to fall. Before you could touch the floor, you felt strong hands grab you at the last moment. 

The grip was firm, almost too strong, you looked up and looked straight into Silco's eyes, which shone with something between surprise and irritation. His face was drawn, as if he was fighting to keep from exploding with anger, but you could clearly see the shadow of concern that was breaking through his mask of composure.

"What are you doing?" he hissed quietly, his voice laced with a mixture of anger and concern.

Silco wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer, so that your faces were almost at the same level. You felt his hands grip your waist tightly, holding you in place as if to make sure you didn't disappear from his field of vision. His gaze was intense, piercing, but you avoided it, lowering your gaze and whispering barely audibly:

"I heard noises outside the door... I got scared" your voice was shaking. Silco narrowed his eyes, then looked away, glancing over your shoulder as if searching for something behind you. But that only lasted a moment. His gaze quickly returned to you - now full of irritation, and his expression changed as if someone had turned off the mask of composure he always wore.

"Why didn't you take your medicine?" he asked, anger growing in his voice.

 "Why are you trying so hard to disobey me?!" before you could say anything, his hands moved to your shoulders, gripping them tightly, his voice growing increasingly tense. Before you could protest, you felt him shake your body. Not hard, but enough to force you to look him in the eyes. His hands seemed to desperately hold you to him, as if they were trying to force you into obedience. 

"Look at me" he growled, his voice shaking, but it wasn't just anger anymore. There was something else in his eyes, behind the facade of anger - fear.

Your gaze remained fixed on your hands clasped on his torso, however, Silco clearly had no intention of waiting for your reaction. In a burst of frustration and desperation, his hand moved to the back of your head, grabbing a spot that had not yet healed. Before you could react, he forced you to lift your head and look him straight in the eye.

Pain exploded like fire, spreading throughout your body, and a sudden, suffering cry escaped your lips. Silco froze, as if he had only just realized what he had done. His hand immediately let go of your head, and the rest of your body recoiled in terror, it was enough for your tired legs to give out. You fell to the floor, with nothing to hold on to.

For several long seconds, Silco stood motionless, as if what had happened was unreal to him. His gaze, filled with anger a moment ago, now seemed as if something inside him had snapped.

As you lifted your gaze, trying to catch your breath and control the pain, something about the image before you seemed strangely familiar. Silco stood still, his silhouette silhouetted against the warm glow of the dying fire in the fireplace, but your eyes could no longer focus on the details. The tears that had welled up in your eyes began to blur reality, and you felt as if the room had suddenly become dark.

You blinked once, then twice, and the image before you changed. Instead of a room, you saw something that resembled a scene from a nightmare. Silco stood before you in the rain, his clothes soaked through, drops running down the material in a rhythmic, almost hypnotic pace.

The entire figure seemed to be taken from another world, yet terrifyingly real at the same time. The only thing that remained clear in this illusion was his injured eye. It glowed in the darkness like a cursed light.

You didn't know if it was a memory, a hallucination caused by the pain, or something more. But one thing was certain - at that moment the line between reality and nightmare began to blur, and you felt like you were drowning in this darkness, the epicenter of which was him.

You curled up on the floor, burying your face in your shaking hands. Tears flowed steadily, hot and stinging, as if burning paths into your skin. The pain, both physical and mental, seemed to take over every aspect of your existence.

"Drink," you heard suddenly, his voice hard, almost impervious to argument.

Before you could protest, you felt Silco lift you off the floor. His movements were surprisingly gentle, though you could feel his hands shaking.

Before you knew what was happening, a silver goblet touched your lips. The dark liquid, the sharp smell of which filled your nostrils, was thick, viscous, its bitter taste immediately hit your taste buds, almost causing a gag reflex, but Silco didn't stop

"Drink" he repeated, this time more insistently, and his free hand held your face, not letting you turn away

You felt the liquid pour into your mouth, and he forced you to swallow. His hand, although shaking, was unwavering, and his gaze was focused on only one thing, regardless of your protests.

When he finally moved the cup away from your lips, you felt the remnants of the liquid run down your chin, leaving a sticky trail on your skin. A few dark drops landed on your nightgown, staining the delicate material.

Your body began to betray you – weakened and tired, unable to fight any longer. Your head fell limply, and Silco gently supported it and placed it on his lap. His touch, although full of anger a moment ago, now seemed almost tender.

You felt a piece of his shirt wipe your face. It was a rough, yet surprisingly caring attempt to wipe away the tears, the traces of liquid, and the pain that seemed to be etched into your skin. His gestures were mechanical, as if he was trying to recreate something a loving husband should do.

Your eyelids began to close, heavy with fatigue and tears. You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his presence surrounding you, although you didn't feel safe at all. It was more than resignation – it was capitulation to fate, to him.

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─

Taglist: @missbeeentertainment

Notes: I'm sorry if there is a lot of mistakes, I was writing it on my phone which has a polish auto correction, and I do not know how to turn it off :( Thank you so so so much for all your love and support, every time I see a notification I feel so grateful for every one of you! Thank you so much and hopefully see you again! <3

[brisquad-unit-4402]

krisis giving you pet names

ofc they'd call you whatever you prefer but these would be their go-tos. technically not a part of the what you call them series but i wouldn’t be opposed to a krisis and what they call you post

there's some french in here. i'm pretty sure the genders in the language are just grammatical, so it should apply to all reader genders/be gender neutral as usual. thanks to my mystake friend for the help, but if there's any errors let me know xx

tags: gender neutral reader, established relationship, fluff, slightly possessive language in vanta's entry, french pet names + translations, pda, brief suggestive content, a bit of gender in vanta's entry but it should still apply to everyone regardless of gender

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

🧻 Vezalius Bandage

his affectionate names are smooth as hell

they roll off the tongue easily and confidently

most of the time it's an interjection in his sentences, so casual you almost don't register it

"it will take about half an hour to get there, mon beauté, so let's leave in fifteen minutes"

"i'm sorry what"

"did i say something, beauty?"

he likes saying pet names offhandedly so he can play innocent

especially since he jumps between the french pronunciation beauté and the english form beauty often to keep you on your toes

if you're taken aback by them he becomes even more of a tease, and won't let up until you admit you like it

when zali's feeling a lot more romantic he'll call you love

it's reserved for late nights, moments of vulnerability, when he can't hold back his feelings

love is rare, but it just makes it all the sweeter to hear. it's always the first thing you hear when you reunite with him after a trip

he likes to call you love when he’s on top of you

and when he's underneath instead, you become my love

when someone’s being mischievous bunny makes an appearance

expect to hear it whenever you're playfully bickering, playing footsie, whatever

whenever you steal food from zali's plate you jokingly call it "the bunny tax"

"hey, don't take my fries."

"it's the bunny tax."

"you have your own rabbit food, though—

"wait, bunny, you're still eating mine!"

another casual name for you is tresór

when you're spending a social evening with friends together, once the party's winding down, he'll lean in closer to you and whisper, "tresór, would you like to go home?"

"mm, kinda."

"let's get you there, then."

"yeah..."

one of your mutual friends notices you and zali whispering together. "something the matter?"

"oh, don't worry, my treasure is just a bit tired." you and zali bid everyone goodbye, even though you feel a little fuzzy at zali just saying the english translation of your name for everyone to hear

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

🔪 Vantacrow Bringer

he’s not exactly clingy but he loves mentioning your relationship

so instead of a pet name, he usually calls you my reader

it's because he loves saying your name

yet he loves reminding everyone who you belong to

when he talks about you you’re almost always my man, my girl, my baby, that one’s mine

despite that he’s not immune to it himself

when you call him mine it’s like cupid picked up a sniper rifle

his brain fully short circuits

he lets slip a wide-eyed "wait, i'm yours?"

and when you confirm it, heart-eyed. he giggles. "that means you're mine too."

vanta isn't very creative with pet names, so baby is his go-to

he knows it's kind of a "basic" name but that's the reason he likes it

it's so easy to insert it into conversation!

and everyone knows what you mean to him the second he calls you baby

besides, the real reason he says it is so he can call you my baby

and in moments of warmth, darling

he just has this suave, sultry intonation when he calls you darling, like the r&b songs he likes to sing

if you show ANY weakness he WILL use that whenever he wants to persuade you

"darling, can we buy this?"

"darling, i want that..."

"but my darling, it would make me so happy."

do NOT be convinced otherwise, this man WILL beg and plead the second he gets an opening

despite that he really does want to spoil his significant other

so when he feels most intimate, he wants to treat you like royalty

you're his sweet prince. his little princess. he'll even call you his royal highness

and sure, it's a little corny when you put it like that, but he tries to make sure the tenderness of the moment outweighs how much of a cheeseball he is at heart

the best part is how reverent he says it

you really are the ruler of his heart as a prince, a princess

your royal highness doesn't even begin to cover it how whipped he is for you

like a knight to a ruler he's always at your royal highness' beck and call, and he knows it

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

🥽 Yu Q. Wilson

getting pet names from this guy is rare

he’s easily flustered by them… he rarely goes for pda

even when you’re alone he refers to you by your name just because it's comfortable

which means his cheeks always glow pink whenever he calls you honey

it's hard to slip honey into bickering so it only comes out when he's feeling romantic

and then willy gets flustered by THAT so it always comes out like

"just stay with me for now. h-honey."

out of all the krisis guys he's the shyest about being cute and affectionate

which is hilarious because everything he feels about you is cute...

and affectionate...

more casual than honey is sweetie

you become sweetie whenever he wants your attention, relaxed, or in some cases, whenever he's getting frustrated

at first it seems like it might be sarcastic or biting whenever he calls you sweetie during an argument

"sorry, it's—i'm gonna say it. it's what you mean to me, alright?" he admits once you've both cooled down and talked it out. "i call you sweetie because i don't want to forget how important you are to me even when i'm getting all—"

he gestures wildly, struggling to think of the words without calling himself a dickhead. "i only get pissed off in the moment. i like how calling you that reminds me that i should be paying attention to your feelings, too."

during lighthearted bickering, though, he'll call you cutie!

you're a cutie whenever you make him laugh

yes, you can tell willy has a thing for nicknames that end in syrupy "y" sounds

yes, you can tease him over that too, cutie, and figure out what makes him call you honey or sweetie instead while you're getting him all blushy

he just wants to call you the most adorable things, it just makes sense

it's even harder for him to admit this too, but he kind of likes the feeling of a Super Cool Guy™️ like him using sappy pet names, it's a little embarrassing...

still pales in comparison to what he calls you in french: mon petit chou chou

it's a very old-fashioned name, and it doesn't even have a good translation in english

whenever he calls you mon petit chou chou, you can always call him my little cabbage cabbage in return to mess with him

there aren't even petits choux in canada??

he doesn't even eat petits choux????

doesn't change the fact that whenever he speaks french, you can't understand most of what he's saying, but nothing perks you up like hearing him mention petit chou

he still hasn't realized his chou chou is always on his mind no matter the language

but man, can you hear it in his voice

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊ masterpost ✧. ┊ kofi

[queerofthedagger]

i love fingon so much just. he's so good and so reckless and he loves so fiercely it makes him do the most stupid shit, and in turn no one ever quite puts him first. I'm going to eat glass

[kayvsworld]

sorry to be doing mcu throwback complaints again and EXTRA sorry for it to be about cacw and aou, sorry, i just am thinking again that if marvel had. in aou. committed to letting steve rogers see that captain america graffiti calling him a fascist with his own two eyes i would have forgiven many of their subsequent deeds and crimes

[not-so-superheroine]

deseret book is more persistent than duolingo.

i ordered 2 books for a church research project on Black saints in the early Church and also in the Reorganization, on which the one book had a small section us and all had info from the our shared early church history, and it was an ebook too!

and i get physical mail from them once a month. i have no idea how to cancel.

herald house, the community of christ publishing house, contacts me much less, and i buy books from them all the time.

and oh their church book app reminds me to read my scriptures and the words of their prophets regularly if it's not in sleep mode.

i have to admire the effort behind it, ngl.

[cptnghoulowl]

I just got Alhaitham by accident. I was pulling for Yaoyao and I got him and I was saving for Nahida and I just

Listen carefully kids. Don't "build pity". Don't pull for a 4* when you're close to pity. I'm AR 60 at this point so like I literally don't care anymore but well, if you want a specific 5* DONT MAKE MY MISTAKES.

(maybe I'm upset enough to finish my angst fic now...)

[neverendingford]

.

[astonmartinii]

copycat | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem reader

they say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but really it's just annoying

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

note: sorry to all of the chloes of the world, i just chose a random name!

f1tea

liked by user1, user2 and 27,305 others

tagged: yourusername, chloereed

f1tea: SHE STRIKES AGAIN! y/n y/ln, oscar piastri's girlfriend, recently changed up her style with some bangs and surprise, surprise chloe reed shared her updated look just days later. then to really pour salt in the wound, reed posted yet again in mclaren merch. will she ever give up?

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user3: BRO YOU COULDN'T HAVE WAITED AT LEAST A WEEK?

user4: i think all subtlety was lost when she copied a literal TATTOO

user5: the way it's y/n's tattoo dedicated to oscar as well...

user6: at what point do we get a restraining order?

user7: the day that girl ends up in the paddock we should let y/n fight her with no consequences

user8: this has been going on for so long i feel like y/n has a lot to unleash on her

user9: at this point i think all of us y/n fans should be able to get their lick in

user10: i'm new to f1 can someone explain this lore to me? (srs)

user11: y/n and oscar have been together for nearly four years now, they got together when they were like 19. this chloe reed girl went on one date with oscar when they were 17 and now copies everything y/n does to try and get his attention? like down to haircut and tattoos ... it's kinda crazy and y/n has made some references to it but like we're nearing like the third year of this so i think she might snap soon

user12: it's even got to the point where chloe has like started talking with y/n's accent? she has a very obvious accent so like it's INSANE

user13: and to think all of this over a single date SIX YEARS AGO

user14: on a brighter note - y/n was MADE for bangs they look so fucking good

user15: obviously she should stop but if there's anyone you want to look like, it would be y/n

user16: at this point is it even over oscar anymore? or has chloe lost herself to journey to BECOME y/n

user17: the fact that she still camps out under all of oscar's posts and constantly posts in mclaren merch

user18: and don't even get me started with how she's always in the comments of oscar's sisters' comments

user19: someone needs to get nicole to put this girl on blast

user20: remember before elon took away public likes that mark went on a liking spree about chloe being a lil weirdo

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, logansargeant and 1,209,566 others

tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris & maxfewtrell

yourusername: summer breakin' with my boy (and his boy)

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user24: MAMA THERE'S A BITCH TRYNA BE JUST LIKE YOU 💜

user25: i unfortunately think she's very aware of it

oscarpiastri: i know you love me because you didn't get annoyed about THEM gatecrashing our couples getaway

landonorris: what if we are a couple HUH???

oscarpiastri: max literally has a girlfriend?

landonorris: ur so close-minded osc

yourusername: i love you osc even with these little stray cats you've picked up

landonorris: did we or did we not organise a super romantic dinner for you?

oscarpiastri: i organised a dinner and you two are so fussy that you left to find some chicken nuggets?

landonorris: therefore giving you a romantic evening on the water?

yourusername: you fell in the water trying to get back on board from the tender and i had to jump in and save you after a fish touched your foot and you began to have a panic attack

landonorris: god you do something nice for people and all you get is SHAMED

mclarenf1: you nearly drowned ???

user26: is chloe going to attempt to drown someone so she can claim she also saved an f1 driver

user27: @georgerussell63 alert the GDPA - NO WATER !!!

georgerussell63: understood 🫡

user28: has it not gotten to a crazy point now that we're warning drivers that this crazy girl might DROWN them ???

user29: at what point do we put oscar and y/n is witness protection

user30: the day she manages to get in the paddock me thinks

charles_leclerc: i see our invite got lost in the mail?

yourusername: please refer to whatever the fuck was going above your comment

charles_leclerc: that you're a victim of identity theft?

yourusername: we been known, but BEFORE THAT

charles_leclerc: oh. you should've let lando drown

landonorris: ???

oscarpiastri: i think that might have gotten me fired?

yourusername: no more papaya rules?

chloereed

liked by user31, user32 and 11,045 others

chloereed: summer breakin'

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user33: oh brother this guy STINKS

user34: i am feeling sufficiently creeped out on the behalf of y/n and oscar

user35: i really don't understand her game here though? does she expect oscar to see this and actually mistake her for y/n and leave y/n for her?

user36: at this point i think she's lost in the sauce

user37: also oscar is hilariously down bad for y/n like he could probably recognise her via vibrational field he would not fall for this cheap imitation

logansargeant: this ain't it btw (it's never been it)

user38: not logan tapping in

logansargeant: who gon check me boo? i ain't got a job

chloereed: i don't know what you're trying to say, but i don't appreciate you spreading misinformation and hate

logansargeant: you have literally copied everything about my best friend down to her sentimental tattoos and you've essentially stalked my other bestfriend for nearly seven years ?

chloereed: it's not stalking if i know i'm what he really wants? she's the imitation of me

logansargeant: you like need help

user39: GO LOGAN

user40: bro has been let of the leash

user41: tbf when you think about it, logan has been friends with oscar for years and by default friends with y/n for just as long so like he's probably seen how this has effected them personally

user42: i don't really see how this is such a big deal, people try and imitate celebs all the time ?

user43: i think it's because she knows at least one of them personally and is very viciously pursuing oscar

user44: also there has to be an aspect we don't know because i don't think logan would be publicly taking her on in the comments if it weren't a lot worse

user45: also ... like it probably feels like shit as a person generally to have everything you do copied and not even get a tiny bit of credit

f1

liked by danielricciardo, patooward and 1,784,039 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 & oscarpiastri

f1: we're ready for you monza

view all comments

user46: OMG IS THAT?

user47: i'm being so for real y/n needs to fight her

user48: OSCAR RUNNNNNNNNN

landonorris: do i need to inform the legal department?

yourusername: you might want to give them some sort of heads up

chloereed: why you afraid i'll steal back my man?

yourusername: no i'm afraid i'll get hit with a manslaughter charge

chloereed: that's a threat - my lawyers will be hearing

yourusername: tell them bitch, oscar would still choose conjugal visits with me over ever being with you

user49: came for the fast cars, staying for whatever this drama is omg

user50: i once went on a reddit deep dive about this drama where they compiled all the evidence and holy moly this confrontation has been a long time coming

user51: the best (or maybe worse) thing abotu all of this is that her claim of being with oscar first and dating him when they were 17 is based on one 'date' where is was just a joint ball between their schools where there was a compulsory dance in which they were partners

maxverstappen1: yo this shit is insane

user52: aren't you meant to be in the car in 20 minutes?

maxverstappen1: drama waits for no one @yourusername i got ur back

charles_leclerc: at this point i will mobilise the tifosi @yourusername

yourusername: i can handle her, i might just need some money to fix my nails

oscarpiastri: please do not fight her, she's not worth it

chloereed: she won't fight for your love but i will

oscarpiastri: can you just fuck off

user53: i fear she's pushed them over the edge now lol

user54: i'm glad they're both letting her have it in the PUBLIC INSTAGRAM COMMENTS <3

f1tea

liked by user55, user56 and 34,982 others

f1tea: she's finally done it? chloe reed was spotted in the paddock at monza. will we finally see a confrontation between the two girls?

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user55: i FUCKING hope so

user56: if i were y/n you'd have to hold me back i'm being so serious

user57: i'd be in oscar's mclaren so fast and be driving down the pit lane to look for her

user58: i'd already be in an italian prison sorry not sorry

user59: y/n needs to give me lessons on being this graceful

user60: at this point we should just have an undercard for the race that's these girls tussling it out

user61: at this point i think logan, charles and max are ready to jump in

user62: charles and max being in the comments just before FP getting the scoop is so insane i love them

user63: imagine getting these f1 drivers this pressed over an aesthetic

user64: if you think this is just about an aesthetic you're just being dumb on purpose

user65: but like y/n is just a girl with bangs and a basic look, u could say like half of the female population are copying y/n

user66: but like please look at the actual evidence, it's way deeper than bangs babe

user67: also the TATTOO WHY ARE WE NOT TALKING ABOUT THE TATTOO

user68: whatever happens y/n will always be better than me

user69: she needs to bash her publicly if she won't beat her physically lol

oscarpiastri

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 3,984,022 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: please leave us alone, you'll never be her and i don't want you to be

view all comments

user71: STUNT ON THEM QUEEN

user72: a man who vocally defends you >>>

yourusername: love you bby

oscarpiastri: if anyone wants to take me away from you they'll have to defeat me in combat

yourusername: not saying i want that but you would be so sexy in full armour

oscarpiastri: for you... i would wear anything :3

user73: bro said his piece and immediately went back to simping like a pro

user74: if he doesn't offer to wear a suit of armour in the bedroom is he really in love with you?

user75: i guess we're not getting any dad!oscar content any time soon

landonorris: ???

user75: it's a joke about protected sex genius

landonorris: OH

chloereed: that's not what you said then oscar

oscarpiastri: THAT WAS SIX YEARS AGO IN A CONVERSATION I WAS OBLIGATED TO HAVE GET A GRIP WOMAN

oscarpiastri: YOU WILL NEVER FEEL SATISFACTION IN YOUR LIFE IF YOU CONTINUE TO COPY EVERYTHING SHE DOES AND REFUSE TO BE YOUR OWN PERSON

oscarpiastri: so PLEASE FOR YOUR OWN SAKE GET YOUR OWN LIFE AND LEAVE US ALONE

oscarpiastri: oh. i'm blocked

oscarpiastri: slay

user76: so ... oscar... when can we get this level of reading on the radio

yourusername: don't make him do community service :(

user77: but him being sassy is a service to the community

yourusername: you make a good point

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 2,045,677 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: you can be a copy cat all you like, but you'll never beat the original

view all comments

user78: i am sorry i exist at the same time as you

user79: i know this a whole love post but i have a confession, i am IN LOVE WITH YOU GET RID OF THE AUSSIE

oscarpiastri: 🤨

charles_leclerc: this was a whole saga, i'm happy it's all worked out for you guys but this was hella entertaining - when can we do it again?

yourusername: never again hopefully

charles_leclerc: boring!

yourusername: it literally got to the point that you offered to leave your car keys in a 'special spot'

charles_leclerc: well obviously i don't mean to THAT extent but i just want a bit of drama, let a girl live

user80: shit stirrer charles leclerc i love you

user81: we should've known he was in the trenches with this, the inchident knows no bounds

oscarpiastri: i love you and i'm sorry this happened. but you do slay so i could see why people would want to be you

yourusername: i knew me with bangs would be too powerful 😔

oscarpiastri: you're the most beautiful girl in the world no matter what

yourusername: ugh you have me blushing pretty boy

landonorris: cringe

yourusername: maybe if you copied oscar's flirting techniques you'd actually be wifed

landonorris: i thought we just established that copying is bad

yourusername: trust me, you need the help

user82: i'm glad we've returned to peace with the lando slander

user83: they're power is insane

maxverstappen1: can i say helping you come up with this caption is my community service

yourusername: fuck yes

maxverstappen1: stunting on hoes is very much in the public interest

fin.

note: i'm back in a rhythm !! this is not so subtle so i'll expand here: please please please do not steal my work, idc if you change the driver, if you're blatantly stealing my ideas and concepts - to the point that people are messaging me to make me aware, please don't! or at least credit me rather than pretending this a completely original thought. mamma mia didn't bother me as much because it's obviously the musical's idea, but omg undercover verstappen? big reputation? and guilty as sin - down to the series name? i haven't made any posts about this but know it's very much bothering me and if i see anymore i may have to put it on blast. thank you all for reading, soz for the rant but this has been going on for months.

[crescenthistory]

It's Nice To Have A Friend

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Synopsis: Remus' childhood best friend is the only person he is comfortable showing unrestrained affection towards – until he one day gets in his own head about it.

Words: 14.4k

Warnings/tags: there are some suggestive remarks, brief references to "shagging" and implied underage drinking, but i would classify it as safe for minors! fem!reader, use of y/n, childhood best friends to lovers (thus you grew up in wales and use welsh terms, but you aren't said to be welsh), you are in ravenclaw (only for one plot point, not personality), platonic physical affection, romantic physical affection, kissing, "it was revealed to me in a dream" trope, some miscommunication trope, deep yearning, remus' pov (meaning loads of self-loathing and overthinking), panic attack-ish, remus cursing like a sailor and joking about jumping, kind of shy/reserved!remus, some angst, happy ending ofc, background jilypad

Note: phew this was intense but sosososo much fun to write. it is very much a fluffy fic tho, don't be worried<3 i fucking love this story/dynamic so much

It is an ill-kept secret that Remus John Lupin struggles with romantic public displays of affection.

It was something his best friends had teased him relentlessly for since the first time he was given a Valentine Day’s card in year two by a boy that he didn’t even have a crush on mind you, and became a stuttering, spluttering mess. He could still hear James and Sirius’ barks of laughter the second that Hufflepuff was out of view and could still feel the bench shake from when Peter fell off it, clutching his stomach. Remus had been sure his cheeks would be permanently dyed red from the shame.

His one friend who did not betray him in such a manner was his oldest, namely you. Remus’ sweetheart, as Sirius called you, his childhood best friend from back home who he broke the statute of secrecy for when he was too young to realise what that meant, but who thankfully turned out to be a witch too. Something you both wept tears of joy for, as you did not have to be separated when he went off to Hogwarts.

On that horrid day, you only pinched his darkening cheeks and laughed quietly – still teasing, but in a way that felt more like admiring and less like humiliating. He faintly remembers scrunching his nose at you in response, a look you immediately mirrored before you went to hide him in the crook of your neck and gave the others a faux scolding for “embarrassing poor Rem when he is wholly capable of doing so himself”. 

His makeshift pack of friends kept that routine up for the rest of his school years, consisting of James and Sirius poking constant fun, Peter enjoying it all a tad bit too much, and you “protecting” him while laughing all the same. His affliction only worsened throughout his time at Hogwarts, but if one of his afflictions were to be the butt of a joke, he supposed he was grateful it was this one.

In moments like these, it was a tad bit difficult to keep that sentiment up, though.

“You should have seen the look on his face, doll!” Sirius made out through a laugh as the group made their way back from Hogsmeade. 

He was recounting Remus’ dance on the Three Broomsticks dancefloor with one slightly-more-rowdy-than-normal Emmeline Vance who all but dragged him out there despite his quiet sputters. You had been off on some endless errands that Remus had passionately attempted to join you for before Sirius all but bolted him to the bench because “you owe me a round, you mangy wolf”.

“I believe I have seen it many a time, Siri,” you laughed out, yelping slightly when Remus pinched your side from where he had his arm around you. “Hey!” you scolded him half-heartedly, point diminished by your grin.

“Cheeky minx, don’t side with the devil!” Remus conspired with you through a stage-whisper while glaring at Sirius, whose laughter only doubled in intensity.

“You can’t ask me to lie for you, del,” you replied in the same tone of voice, leaning up to kiss his cheek as if to apologise for your treachery. An apology that was wholly accepted as Remus tugged you closer into his side and allowed for the laughter around him to continue with a sigh.

Because therein lies the one exception – Remus Lupin was pathetically incapable of public displays of affection, unless they were with you.

His problem with these displayals was the insinuation behind them and the attention that was brought to him because of it. If Emmeline dances with him, leaving a scandalously little amount of room between them, he knows what she wants from him and everyone else does, too. If his current romantic partner kisses him in the hallway, it is a glimpse into something that otherwise occurs behind closed doors, a reveal of his private life that he does not enjoy. He wants that part hidden, and embarrassment flares through him like a rocket at the thought that others bear witness to it – and then the flames are stoked when they notice that he knows and has enough dignity to be embarrassed, which just fuels an eternal evil cycle.

You, however – your wonderful self he has known all his life, you who refused to ever leave his side despite his lycanthropy and subsequent grumpy, isolationist persona, you who are his absolute better half and light of his life – there was no reason that affection should be hidden. There was nothing secretive nor fragile in your relationship, it was the purest thing he had ever had the pleasure of having.

There was nothing insinuative or blasphemous about it, there was nothing to be held against him. He would hold you, hug you, even kiss your shoulder, cheek and forehead, because he and all else around knew that it meant nothing more. It was nothing out of the norm, nothing for others to point out and bring attention to. There was no glance into something hidden away, there was no line being overstepped. It was just two best friends, aware and proud of how much they meant to one another.

So Remus never had any hesitations about leaning into your touch, about seeking yours out, about lips identifying exposed skin and staying there for a moment or two. It was something he began doing before he truly knew what embarrassment entailed, it was muscle memory as much as instinct these days.

And if others did not understand it fully, that was an issue Remus for once felt no confinement to public opinion on. If people made assumptions or threw glances, it held no importance to him. Even his Marauders, Sirius especially, raised their eyebrows at your proximity when you all first met, but they understood the routine of it all quickly. That these two first years before them were a package deal in every form of the word. It was quickly accepted within your little pack, albeit fondly commented on every now and again. James had Sirius in that same unrestrained way, bodies strewn across each other at any given opportunity, so why couldn’t Remus have you? Why wouldn’t he?

Never mind that Sirius was officially brought into James and Lily's relationship at the end of last term.

“Well, James would hug anything that moved and seemed like it might need it.” Sirius had argued one night many years ago, not needing to add the and I need it.

“And isn’t that lovely for Prongs,” Remus had drawled in return. “But I need a few years to get there, and Y/N happened to be more strategic than you lot.”

“By knowing you first?”

“Precisely. Also, she’s lovelier than you.” 

It had earned him a snort and a pillow to the face, but it was accepted without further questioning. With the exceptions only occurring in a drunken babble here and there from Sirius, alone in their dorm after a party. Remus is quite certain he couldn’t string together a coherent sentence if his life depended on it in those states, and so he never took it to heart.

Remus revelled in having something of his own, someone only he understood on that level, and his heart always warmed when he thought about how lucky he was that that someone was you.

He subconsciously pulled you even closer at that thought, content and comfortable to do so whether that be around his marauders or in front of the whole Great Hall; there was nothing more to it to be embarrassed of. It was just you; just Y/N and Remus. Like always.

“You occluding yourself away from your menace of a dorm mate?” you whispered to him then, and he angled his chin down slightly with a smile to find you looking at him curiously.

“Oh, yeah,” Remus agreed with a solemn nod. “Must prepare for being locked up in a room with him all night. It’s tedious work, you know?”

“Most certainly.” You attempted to match his faux severity, but a giggle escaped you nonetheless – a beautiful one that Remus decided to mentally save for the night, should Sirius become unbearable.

Speaking of; “I take great offence to that,” Sirius proclaimed from the few strides ahead he was, pointing his finger in Remus’ direction without turning around. “Dog-like hearing, Moony, don’t think you can get away with badmouthing me here!”

“Dog-like he says,” Remus whispered to you, earning him an indignant “oi!” as Sirius finally turned around.

“Gorgeous, would you tell your worse half to knock it off?”

“I sure will,” you declared, turning your body more towards Sirius in Remus’ grasp. “Siri, sweetheart, would you knock it off?”

Within the second, Sirius’ offended expression transformed into one of giddiness. “Awe, princess, you think of me as your other half?”

“Worse half, Pads,” James interjected, looking over his shoulder bemusedly.

“Do keep up,” Remus added with a half-hearted glare.

“Irrelevant!” Sirius threw his hands up and spun around in celebration. “I have won the title of her other half, you can get lost Moons.”

Remus used his arm around your shoulders to angle you back away from Sirius. “I think not. I’ve been keeping this friendship for so long, she’ll need a lawyer to get rid of me,” he stated matter-of-factly, looking down at you at the last bit. “Capiche?” He tilted his head at you.

You hummed through a poorly-withheld smile, as if you were considering it. “Sure thing, cariad. Meet with our lawyers tomorrow after lunch?”

Remus gasped as you ripped out of his grasp and stuck your tongue out at him. Flashbacks of your younger days chasing each other down dirt roads came to his mind and widened his grin as he saw you back away from him, eyes trained on his expression. 

“Minx,” he breathed out through a laugh just before you sat off running away from him; Remus hot on your heels, laughter escaping him freely. Sirius began running with you, though he was slowed as he twirled around and hollered, surely waking the entirety of the mountaintops surrounding the castle.

James had been minding his own business for once as he engaged in quiet conversation with Lily and Pandora, but his eyes twinkled as he eyed his three running friends, exchanging a knowing look with the redhead.

“Young love,” Pandora sighed dreamily, though James could never be certain if she was looking at the loud, carefree forms before them or at something entirely different.

Remus saw you stopped running while still some dozens of metres away from the castle, still facing away from him, but arms opening to accommodate for the impending crash of his body against yours. It does something funny to his heart to think about, but he just lets it widen his smile as he did exactly as expected – let his arms loop around your waist and twirl you around as he caught up to you. 

Your out-of-breath giggles permeated into his ears as his face was tucked in between your neck and shoulder as he slowed down, laughter calming in his own chest.

“Caught you,” he whispered through his own breathlessness. “Happy now?”

You turned in his grasp, squeezing at his shoulders both to show affection and seemingly to steady yourself as your chest still heaved; Remus held you tighter to help you in the latter endeavour. “Shook off Sirius for a bit, so yeah, I am. As should you be.”

He dropped his head laughing at that, glancing behind him through his hair to see Sirius bent over, hands on his knees as James had already caught up to him and was patting his back in sympathy. Any other time of the month, Remus would likely have been right there with him, but this was a good week and you always seemed to be able to find some semblance of energy within him, even if he thought he had none.

“I take back my calling you minx, then.” He looked at you with a smile. “That was strategic.”

“Are you saying minxes can’t be strategic, Loopy?” You raised your eyebrows at him teasingly, pulling slightly out of his grasp to breathe better.

“I’m saying– don’t call me Loopy.”

Your smile became almost taunting at that, and Remus knew his comment likely only worsened the likelihood of you using that nickname now. “I just remembered how I used to call you that the other day actually,” you mused, putting on an innocent smile. “I don’t remember why I stopped, I just forgot about it. I think it might be time for a renaissance.” 

“I think I’m too out of breath for you to say things like that. I can’t chase you any further, but that deserves to be chased.”

You shoved lightly at his shoulder at that. “You’re getting too old, you’re no fun.”

“I’m super fun. Textbook definition,” Remus harrumphed, gleaning when you rolled your eyes through a burst of laughter.

“No one who references textbook definitions is fun, Moons!” James called from where the group was catching up to you two, finally within earshot. 

Sirius was practically draped across James’ shoulder, breath still coming heavy. He pointed yet another accusatory finger, this time at you. “You’ll be the death of me, dollface. Merlin’s tits.”

“Don’t blame me for your own inadequacy, gorgeous,” you quipped back. It made Remus rather proud, especially when Sirius groaned dramatically in response.

“Time to get some beauty sleep then, yeah?” James coaxed, giving Sirius’ cheek a peck as he continued effortlessly dragging him in through the entrance of the castle.

Lily hummed in agreement, poking one of her boyfriends in the side. “Yeah, Sirius seems to need it.”

“You think I’m so sexy, Red, don’t lie to yourself,” Sirius mumbled, petulantly remaining worn out over James’ shoulders.

Remus smiled at his friends, hand reaching out behind him blindly, knowing you’d find it. Surely enough, your fingers intertwined with his own and gave him a little tug to hasten his gait down the hallways.

Moving up the staircases with surprisingly little trouble, the group finally found themselves outside the portrait of the Fat Lady, ready to split up with you and Pandora heading to Ravenclaw and the rest clambering inside. 

You made your goodbyes, quick hugs and kisses on cheeks with Lily and James and a kiss to the hand from Sirius who had decided to lay down dramatically on the floor. When you turned to Remus at last, just a tad bit away from the others, he enveloped you in a warm hug, breathing you in as he settled his chin on your shoulder.

“Let me walk you?” he asked, already knowing you would say no.

“Nice try Loopy, but I’d rather you go inside to the warmth and head to bed,” you murmured into his neck. “Thank you, though.”

You always said no. He always asked, anyway. Sometimes, if he was feeling particularly protective or otherwise missed you too much, he’d go with you anyway. Today he decided to respect your wishes.

“Tell me again why you had to be an independent person and get sorted into your own house?” he grumbled against you, smiling when he felt your chest rumbling beneath him. That same smile softened when your grip on him grew just the slightest bit tighter.

“Something tells me you’ll survive.” 

He tightened his hold on you in turn, one arm around your waist and the other stabilising your neck, before he spun your body around twice, twirling along the hallway. He relished in the laughter that escaped you and ensured to stamp a proper kiss to your hair before he released you back down to the floor.

“Sleep well, dove.”

“Goodnight, cariad,” you said through a soft smile, giving him and the others a small wave before turning around to where Pandora was waiting, grabbing her hand as you two all but skipped down the hallway together.

With his eyes still glued on your disappearing form, Remus nearly yelped as James’ hands came up to settle roughly on his shoulders – albeit somewhat careful of his joints – steering him through the now-opened portrait, who was rambling on with complaints about students taking up the space in front of her for too long.

“Funny that,” James started. 

Remus gave him a puzzled look. “What, Prongs?”

“Just that you danced with one Ravenclaw at the Three Broomsticks for two minutes and gained the colour and conversational skills of a tomato; but when you twirl and kiss this Ravenclaw, all you’re left with is that goofy grin of yours.” James’ comment seemed off-handed, said over his shoulder as they walked through the empty common room.

“First of all, it’s Y/N we’re talking about and not some Ravenclaw,” he started, confusion laced in his voice. In the meantime, James and Sirius kissed Lily goodbye, the latter giving her bum a light tap as she moved up the stairs to the girls’ dorms. “Secondly, it’s Y/N. She’s my best friend, and one of yours, mind you. What’s there to go all tomato for?”

“Some would argue, there is never any reason to go all tomato,” Sirius taunted, ducking the smack Remus aimed towards him.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” James laughed, literally waving it off. “Just pointing out the parallel. Ironic, innit?”

“Don’t see why it would be,” Remus grumbled petulantly in return. Sirius reached up to ruffle his hair somewhat roughly before entering their dorm, where Peter was already waiting for them, tucked into bed.

“What’re we laughing about tonight, fellas?” he questioned without looking up from the magazine he was reading through. Remus was fairly certain he had seen Mary reading through that very same magazine last week.

“Oh just at Remus’ peculiarities with birds.” Sirius felt emboldened with his comment from where he was crouched behind his bed – ample distance to protect him from Remus, he surely gathered.

“So, nothing new? Nice.” Peter returned his attention to the magazine it never really left.

“Yeah, don’t worry Pete – your friends are just as big arseholes as on any other day.” Remus bent down to pat the boy on the shoulder before moving over to his own bed, between Peter and Sirius’. 

“Hey, I don’t mean to be an arsehole,” James complained with almost a full pout across his lips within a second of Remus’ comment. “We’re just having a bit of fun psychoanalysing you, s’all.”

“Which, of course, is a generally accepted polite thing to do.” Remus nodded as if he was gravely understanding, only flipping James off when the other boy didn’t catch his sarcasm.

“No, Remmy, what would be rude is to point out how you are desperately–” Sirius began with taunting mirth plastered all over his face, but he was cut off as James all but jumped on him to cover his mouth. 

The black haired boy looked up at his boyfriend first with some offence and then a look Remus didn’t want to witness.

“How about we leave poor Moony alone for the night, huh baby?” James questioned, moving his hand away from Sirius’ mouth as the other boy nodded almost dumbly, still staring up at him.

“Who’s turning red now?” Remus whispered to himself as he looked through his trunk for his pyjamas. He barely had the reflexes to catch the pillow Sirius hurled at him, tossing it back with a loud laugh that was quickly reciprocated by his best mates.

As if a miracle had been awarded them by some forgiving gods, the boys’ dorm room quieted down fairly quickly after that. Sirius and James settled in Sirius’ bed for the night, barely fitting themselves onto the mattress that was almost too small for one boy, let alone two. Once in each other’s arms, however, it was an easy thing to drift off. Peter was asleep before the other three had even brushed their teeth.

Remus was the only one tossing. Not unusual, but he couldn’t really understand why that was tonight. 

His sleep cycle often closely followed the moon’s, and he was almost two weeks away from the full moon, a perfectly decent time for falling and staying asleep. Tonight, though, his body was once more fighting him. He kept replaying the night, the conversations, the interactions, trying to pin his unrest on something. He supposed that dance with Vance had been unexpected and the adrenaline spike of all the attention following it might still linger and make sleep evade him. 

Despite what his dismay for public romantic displays might indicate, Remus was no prude. As a matter of fact, just as Sirius had before he was locked down, Remus was no stranger to making his rounds at the occasional common room party. Rarer was it that he shagged anyone back home, as he spent most of his time with you, but it had happened here and there too. Vance and him had even spent a night together once at a quidditch afterparty, but he had no significant interest in her apart from a mutually understood night of fun. He never really did, even when his partners were great in all capacities. It just didn’t seem that romance was an object for Remus – and good riddance, if the struggles of dealing with it so far was any sign.

Perhaps that was it then, dancing with Vance had rehashed something for him. Though the idea didn’t settle well in his bones, Remus also knew that he would never settle if he didn’t give his mind an excuse for his sudden restlessness.

After checking the time with a hefty sigh, he decided to throw in the towel and took a small sip of a sleeping draught potion he had at the ready in his bedside table at all times. If sleep would not come to him, he would hunt it down damn it. His friends’ playful mockery and a dance he didn’t even want to partake in would not cause him any more torment.

As Remus slipped into the land of dreams, he may come to regret that sentiment, if but a bit.

There are warm bodies pressed uncomfortably close to him – the warmest of which has her arms around his neck, one hand scraping through his hair. It should feel good, Remus enjoys when his hair is played with, but this feels sharp enough to draw blood. Emmeline’s laugh is all he can make out over the chatter and stomping around him, but it feels wrong, scratchy like a record player. Her fingers on him are cold, unlike anything else in the room.

It is spinning. The room, that is. Remus is unfocused, as if he had been shooting vodka and not butterbeer earlier. He can’t quite make out any of his friends, or anyone really, Emmeline’s features bleeding out into the background.

For some reason his heart is pounding the way it does before his transformation. Everything feels painfully wrong and he is aware of every inch of his body where Emmeline is touching him.

She is still laughing and Remus is sure it would make his ears bleed, which only confuses him further because Emmeline is truly a nice girl. Just not one he wants to feel flush against himself at the moment.

He reaches a hand up to touch his ear – realising only now that his arms are hanging limply by his sides, the only static thing in the otherwise spinning room – and when he retracts his hand to look at it, his fingers are coated with blood.

His breathing grows ragged as he feels the blood running down the side of his neck. He has half a mind to tell Emmeline, to shout for help. He doesn’t. Nothing comes out when he tries to open his mouth, all control of his body ripped from his grasp.

With no warning he realises the wetness on his neck is not blood, but someone’s open mouth smearing kisses down it with reckless abandon. His stomach ties in knots and he wants to push Emmeline off of him, still to no avail.

Her grip on him tightens painfully, and Remus swears he feels a bone break. He would know.

The flurry behind her has just become a swirl of colours and sounds to him and Remus feels himself drowning in a moment he desperately wants away from. He shuts his eyes hard, taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself.

He feels a warmth in his chest, starkly different from the heat around him, that slowly, like thawing ice, begins to spread throughout him. He hums the melody you sang to him during his first ever panic attack, the sweet one that always lulls him to sleep, and the warmth spreads faster.

With his eyes still screwed shut, Remus begins to regain the feeling in his legs first, noticing them swaying back and forth to some calmer, unknown rhythm.

The feeling in his hand returns too, and it’s clasped around someone else's. Theirs is also warm, light and fits much better in his, though he’s not quite sure what he’s comparing it to.

The front of his body is warmer than the back as he’s pressed up against someone, swaying with them in a slow dance that would never have worked in the middle of Three Broomsticks. It flows with his soul.

At last, Remus can hear again, as if coming up from water. He hears that it was not him humming, but rather a soft figure tucked under his chin, humming the vibrations of the melody against the side of his neck.

When he tightens his arms instinctively, he does not need to open his eyes to know it is you.

He does anyway, looking down at you, standing in his arms, swaying together in an empty Gryffindor common room. There is a lazy smile on your lips as you look up at him, cheek against his chest, eyes twinkling like the starlight.

Remus feels right. Remus feels good. His thoughts are honey, sweet but slow, coating over any coherent reactions he might have to standing here with you like this. He escaped and he is with you and all is right once more.

Have you danced like this before? Did it feel like this then?

You seem unpuzzled, relaxed. The warmth settles in Remus for good.

“Hey handsome,” you whispered, as if you were sharing a secret with him before angling your face more up towards his.

Remus is not in charge of his body when his neck dips down and lets his lips meet yours halfway, casual and expectantly, a habit as much as a wish. You taste like yourself. You smell like yourself. Remus is surrounded by you, cornered by your smile against his lips.

You pull back all too quickly, furrowing your brows at him. Dream-Remus has no hesitation of removing the hand from around your back to thumb at the furrow, brushing away any negative thoughts from you. He kisses the spot between your eyebrows.

Everything is right.

When his eyes meet yours again, the concerned look in them has not changed. You reach a tentative hand up to his cheek, thumb swiping over his cheekbone as you hold him with what he irrevocably knows to be love. 

“It’s time to wake up, cariad,” you said with a small sad smile.

The last thing Remus remembers is the feeling of the floor disappearing beneath him.

Remus sat up with a gasp, and for a rare moment in time he was speechless.

He was not a stranger to invasive, questionable or downright spiritual dreams, a side effect of both his connection with the moon and the tons of potions he has taken over the years. Usually, he is present in his dreams and acts as his own little commentator during and after them, narrating what happens and what he thinks of it.

It was not uncommon for him to think “I think I will remember this one” as the final thought in a dream. Or when he wakes up in tears, his first thought was often “that was a bit dramatic of you, calm down”.

Now, he had nothing. Now, he was speechless.

Worse yet, usually when he wakes up with a jolt, it is in the middle of the night – but now, as his senses began to trickle back in, he could hear the commotion around him that only could mean the boys are at various stages in the process of getting ready.

Remus Lupin had just had a life-altering, earth-shattering dream, and James Fleamont Potter was repeatedly knocking his knee into his nightstand as he jumped around while tying his shoes on, instead of sitting down to do it like a normal person would.

He thought James was saying something, and maybe even to Remus specifically, but he could still hear the blood rushing through his head. Beneath that again, he could hear your humming. 

With a groan, Remus let himself topple over from his sitting position to land face-first into his duvet.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. What the fuck?

“Oi!” Remus finally heard, as what felt like a rolled up pair of socks hit his head. “What in Godrick’s name has gotten into you, mate? You good?” It was Sirius voice calling, seemingly from across the room.

Remus just groaned in reply. His eyes were wide open as he stared directly into his sheets, feeling both freezing cold and like his brain was slowed by a fever.

“You okay, Moons?” Peter’s voice came gentler from beside him. Remus thought his hand might be hovering near him, as if he was considering consolingly patting him but was unsure if he should.

Another groan.

“Okay, what about this: groan once if this is Moony mooning over something and twice if you’re in actual crisis,” James suggested, not unkindly.

A singular groan, though it sure did feel like two.

“Groan once if you’re a prick and twice if you’re insufferable,” Sirius felt the need to comment.

Instead of making any further sounds, Remus wrangled his arm from beneath the blanket to show Sirius how he felt about him in the moment with a gesture.

“Fantastic!” James exclaimed. “You have class in 35 minutes, Moons, and breakfast now, so best get a move on.” Remus heard the telltale sound of James leaving – as in, James’ heavy footsteps moving across the floor and Sirius scrambling like a dog to follow after him. At the complete lack of sounds in the rooms after that, he assumed Peter moused after them as well.

At last Remus sat up with a sigh and stared emptily in front of him, mind moving too fast for him to catch a thought but too slow for him to properly process anything.

What does this mean? 

Except Remus could no longer deny that he knew what it meant. That the instant your humming caressed his ears, he knew what it meant. That his subconsciousness wanted to replace a girl who saw him as a romantic prospect in a place Remus felt queasy in with you in a place he considered home. That is no coincidence.

And that when you kissed him–

Except you did not kiss him. Remus shook his head at that, as if the thoughts could just tumble out of his ears. You did not kiss him and he did not kiss you. Because this was a dream, it was not real and Remus must just be really, really unwell.

He felt unwell, but not in the way he was trying to convince himself.

Taking one deep breath, Remus looked to the awning of their little dormitory and shot out a silent prayer for any higher power to listen.

Put me back together, I cannot fall apart like this.

Bury this back down deep, I cannot feel like this.

It was going to be a long day.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

By the time Remus had made it to the entryway to the Great Hall, feeling frazzled and less put together than he had an excuse to, he saw his group of friends making their way out.

“Rem!” It was you who caught sight of him first, and immediately beelined towards him, the others following closely behind, wearing varying degrees of concern and confusion as they looked him up and down.

Your face was by far the most concerned, as you immediately brought your left hand up to cup his cheek. “Are you alright, cariad?”

For the first time in your almost two decades of friendship, Remus was painfully aware of your physical proximity.

He always knew, of course, but it never really registered with him – it was completely natural. Right now, nothing about him felt natural. You stood flush with him and he felt you against him like a fire, skin singeing beneath his clothes. Your eyes seemed so big looking into his that he could get lost in them, his only internal monologue being a dreamy sigh and a long string of curse words at the absolute madhouse chaos that his mind was becoming. As he looked at you, it was like he could see his version of you from his dream as well, how you looked at him with so much love and admiration, how your lips inched closer to his.

“Mate?” Remus realised then, that he had been staring at you for far too long, not answering your question, to the point where James had to try to catch his attention.

“I– uh,” Remus sputtered, eyes flickering wildly all over your face, panic rising in his chest as he realised he could not think clearly with you so close.

He took a step back without thinking, just barely out of your grasp but still close, and shook his head. “Sorry, yeah, no, yes, I just feel a bit… off today.”

The furrow between your brows deepend, and once more his mind flashed back to his dream. His hand twitched. It seemed like you weren’t even aware of it when you took a step closer, to be back by his side, reaching your wrist up to place it on his forehead to feel his temperature. “You’re feeling poorly?” you whispered so quietly and so lovingly Remus thought he might faint.

Was it always like this? It was always like this. Why was he freaking out about it then? He was freaking out. What the fuck was wrong with him?

With horror, Remus realised that a slight blush was creeping up his neck, and he fought hell to keep it down as he cleared his throat. “Just a little, uh, dove, it’s nothing to worry about.”

“Do you want to go lay down?” You began what he knew would be a string of suggestions for things to do to make him feel better, and he could not stand watching you be so concerned when he was lying to you.

Almost like a flinch, he pulled back out of your arms – properly this time, taking several strides backwards away from the group. It barely registered with him that James and Sirius were looking at him with some confused amusement while Lily looked sympathetic.

“I, erm, will be fine, yeah? Nothing to worry about.” Without properly looking, he reached an arm out to grab Peter by the shoulder and all but manhandled him to his side. “Peter and I have Herbology now, but uh, I’ll catch you later?”

Remus hated how everything he said sounded like a question, like he was running a lie by you for you to confirm if it was believable. Remus hated that he couldn’t tear his gaze away from your face for more than a few seconds and most of all he hated that he was spiraling under the weight of your gaze in turn. A horrible combination.

“Take care, Rem,” you whispered as he all but ran away from you, hauling Peter along.

You stood looking after him for a moment, only turning your head when you felt Lily’s reassuring hand on your shoulder to find a small smile on her face.

“What in the buggering hell was that?” Sirius questioned, looking mostly at you for an answer.

“I don’t know,” you said, honestly. Had you known, you might still not have told him, though, if you thought Remus wouldn’t want you to. “I usually always know about his moods before they come, but this has me stumped,” you murmured, mostly to yourself.

“He woke up weirdly,” James mused, rubbing his hand across his chin. “I guess we’ll just see where the day goes, yeah?”

The four of you nodded at each other, but you still gnawed on your lip in concern, glancing over your shoulder to where he disappeared. 

Whatever it was, you hoped he would come talk with you about it when he was ready.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Remus only had one hour to compose himself during Herbology before he had Charms with you. Sharing most of his classes with you was something he had always considered a blessing, and while that sentiment would likely never fade, it was also causing him some distress as he almost toppled the work desk with his jittering.

Peter didn’t question him, but Remus’ obvious nerves were apparently contagious for the anxious boy who jittered right along with him, casting him the occasional glance.

Letting his elbows fall heavily on the desk, Remus put his head in his hands and ignored the instructions Professor Sprout was walking them through – he would let Peter pick up the slack for once and then subsequently accept the lower marks. Right now, Remus had to think and get his shit together.

He breathed his way through some panic exercises and pictured you in his mind. It almost brought a smile to his lips in an instant and for the first time, he let the realisation of how irrevocably wrecked for you he was.

Has it always been like this? Why have I never put this into words before? How can I revert back?

In that moment, Remus decided two things. Firstly, there was no possibility of you returning his feelings nor would he ever expect you to. It was true that you accepted and loved him in a way he never could quite believe himself deserving of, but that in itself is testament that it couldn’t be any more. What you gave him was already too much, it would be unthinkable for you to harbour even deeper feelings for him.

Second, and most importantly, he could not lose you. Remus has made many mistakes in his time, but he could not live with himself if he lost you. It would be too much. Because regardless of the fact that he now knew he was– that he now knew what he knew, the friendship between you was the most important thing. It was Remus and Y/N, right?

He could not be weird and sputtering, he could not make you uncomfortable. Meaning, he could not withdraw from you despite his instinct to run and hide. Shame burned within him at the thought that even if he could withdraw he didn’t know if he could fight his want not to. You were muscle memory.

Remus opened his eyes and slowly dragged his palms down his face in resolution. He would have to act as if nothing was wrong, and he would have to lie through his bloody teeth to explain away whatever bodily reactions he has.

If he starts stammering, he will have to shut up and lie that he is tired. If he becomes an embarrassing shade of auburn, he will have to cough and lie that he might be coming down with a fever. If he shakes, it is because of lack of sleep. If he, Merlin forbids, cries, he will have to claim he must be coming down with some odd moonsickness. You will surely follow him to Madam Pomfrey and maybe it will be easier when you’re alone.

Or maybe it will be worse.

No matter which it was, Remus would have to soldier it, for your sake. You did not deserve his imposing infatuation, but you also did not deserve to lose what you thought to be a loyal friend.

When him and Peter packed up the barely-used desk and mumbled a goodbye to a disapproving Sprout in the door, Remus made it his mission to focus on his breathing again as he almost ran down the hallways to where your friend group always met up outside the Charms classroom.

Be normal, be normal, be normal.

Your eyes found him the second he rounded the final corner, almost as if you had been watching it, waiting for him. A beautiful smile lit up on your face as soon as you saw him, albeit a bit dampened by the worry in your eyes – he simultaneously wanted desperately to soothe you while also berating himself for it being there. His fault.

“Hey dovey.” He forced his words to be casual, his smile to be measured as he strode up beside you. 

This is where he is supposed to drag you into a sideways hug, squeezing your hips while dropping a kiss on the top of your head, causing Sirius to make some quip about “you were literally just gone an hour. He stood beside you perhaps a beat too long before he began to do so with shaking hands, and he felt your burning look as you studied him. Remus made it all the way up to where he would kiss your head before he chickened out due to the tornado screaming in his stomach.

“Hi, Rem,” you all but whispered, your words just for him. You opened your mouth to say more, but he was afraid of what it would be.

“Waited long?” he asked to distract you from it.

“Nah,” you said and leaned further into his side. “But I’m glad you’re here now. How’re you feeling?”

At that, he saw Peter, Sirius, James and Lily – who had been stuck in their own little world – look up and try to hear what he has to say. Remus crumbled under their watchful gazes, knowing they knew him well enough to pick apart his every little reaction. He cleared his throat.

“I don’t really know,” he settled for. “My head’s murky, didn’t sleep well.”

You made a soft cooing sound and started rubbing circles on the side of his hip from where your arms were circled around him. It knocked a wave of dizziness into him that made him want to take a step back to lean against the cold stone wall behind you. In replacement he settled for holding onto you tighter; it only made it worse.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go lay down? Merlin knows we won’t be missing out on anything with the way Flitwick rambles away any sense he might have.”

This is where Remus would laugh heartily at your obvious disdain for the professor that he never truly understood. Instead, his mind zeroed in on one word you said.

We. We, we, we, we.

Circe’s tits, did he want to take you up on that.

He swallowed, acutely aware that you must have heard the sound when stood so close to him, though you didn’t give away any reaction. To buy himself a moment to collect his thoughts, Remus finally dared tilt his chin downwards to kiss the top of your head. It might have been too slow, too tentative, but his heart was beating so fast the rest of his body felt too slowed down in comparison. He hoped you thought the kiss was a thank you for caring and not the nervous stall it was. He hoped he wouldn’t be eternally damned for breathing in the scent of you.

“I’m quite alright, dove,” he murmured instead, furiously avoiding the surely questioning gazes of his other friends. “Thank you, though.”

You grumbled some but didn’t push him on it. He silently thanked you for that, too.

His throat was too parched to partake in the silent banter amongst his friends as you walked into Charms, too focused on where your bodies brushed as you walked, too deafened by the sound of your laughter.

You sat down in your regular spots, you and Remus side by side in the front, with Sirius and James behind you and Lily and Mary to your right. This was normal, this was alright. Flitwick droned on about the theoretics and debates around the charms you learned last lesson, it went in one ear and out the other.

Absentmindedly, you had grabbed Remus’ hand lightly between yours and were tracing soothing circles along his wrist and palm. You meant so well, and this would have cured likely any other ailment Remus struggled with, but right now there were fireworks going off in his head.

Taking advantage of the notice Dumbledore had given all of his professors to not call Remus out on sleeping in class, he folded his arms and laid his head down on them, carefully not to take his hand away from you. If he could shield his face, he could probably talk himself down before class ended.

In the solitude of his arms, he could picture it was just the two of you, sitting in the treehouse you built between your houses as children. If he focused enough, he could smell the apples that grew around him and feel the rough wood beneath his stomach. There, your hand would still be in his, maybe even your cheek on his chest, and it would be alright. It would all be alright because it was just you, and Remus could play dumb and he would never have to realise his feelings and fuck himself over.

It almost worked. Until he was interrupted.

“Psst! L/N?” The whisper was laced with a laughter Remus knew too well and did not care for.

You clearly ignored it – Remus could practically see the eye roll you surely threw his way – but that wasn’t enough to stop his theatrics.

“L/N!” Barty called once more from a couple seats behind you to your right, voice threatening to alert Flitwick to your inattention. “What’s wrong with your dog?”

“What?” you whispered back in equal parts confusion and irritation.

“Your puppy, Lupin,” Barty said, as if it was obvious. Unfortunately, Remus could picture his eye roll too, though his stomach was turning for a wholly different reason. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Remus is quite alright, Junior,” you hissed back, hand tightening on Remus’ at the same time as he loosened it. “And don’t call him a dog.”

Remus slowly lifted his head from his arms and took back his hands to wipe harshly at his face, still not looking towards Junior who barked a low laugh.

“Follows you around like one. Wouldn’t surprise me if you had some invisible leash going on–” Barty quipped, cutting himself off before you could respond and turning to Evan Rosier sitting beside him. “Oooooh, an invisible leash is a marvellous idea, Rosie.”

It was clear you had lost his attention, but Remus’ face still burned painfully as he shifted in his seat. With a harrumphing sound, you turned to look at him. He didn’t meet your eye, couldn’t.

“Ignore him.” Remus always marvelled at how you manage to convey your frustration and care at the same time.

He just hummed in the affirmative, still wiping a bit harshly at his face. If he treated it harshly enough, could he blame his violent flush on it?

“Cariad,” you mumbled, gently taking his hands away from his face, clearly spotting his efforts.

He saw your furrowed eyebrows looking at him, and that was the end of what he could take for the lesson. As you opened your mouth, surely to inquire about how he is, like the beautifully kind person he knows you to be, he pushed his chair backwards.

“I think I should probably listen to you and go lay down, dove,” he murmured, avoiding your gaze. Before you could shoot in and say you would come with him, he continued. “Can you please take notes for me in Transfiguration after this?” 

An indirect rejection, a plea for isolation. He didn’t look at your face as he gathered his things, waiting for you to respond instead.

“Sure, if that’s what you want,” you said carefully.

What I want is you.

“Yes, please.” Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward and pressed a parting goodbye kiss to your cheek, tradition. “Thank you, love.”

Then he was sneaking his way out around the desks, barely catching a murmured voice he knew to be Sirius’, likely leaning forward to ask you about him. His lips singed.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Remus hid away in his room for two hours, actually being truthful and trying to get a nap in. The dorm room felt serendipitous, being swept up in rare silence and a grace of darkness as he trickled in and out of consciousness. If he dreamed more of you, he would not admit it.

Any semblance of reprieve he might have chased down was ripped away from him by the creaking of the door and the wall of sound that followed his three favourite boys who always got on his last three nerves.

“Oi, Moons!” Sirius exclaimed, far too cheerily. “You know the rules!”

Remus propped his head up on his elbow from where he was sprawled on his stomach, looking blearily at the three figures as they situated themselves within the dorm. “The rule to not wake a sleeping sod? Yes, I’m the only one who knows that rule it seems.”

Sirius took off his sweater as he discarded his uniform and used it to swat at Remus. “Nope! No wallowing on your own. Sharing is caring.”

“‘M not wallowing,” Remus grumbled as he let his head fall back into his pillow.

Letting his guard down was undoubtedly a mistake because the second Sirius was out of sight, he had the audacity to jump into Remus’ bed, nearly flinging him off from the impact. Both Sirius and James were laughing boisterously as Sirius collapsed on top of Remus and ruffled his hair when he tried to shove him off. “Not anymore, no, we won’t let you.” 

Remus hated that he loved them.

“Precisely,” James added as he pointed at Remus from where he was changing into his non-uniform clothes as well. “So either speak your mind or perk up, buttercup.”

Remus groaned but let Sirius drag him up into a sitting position. “Can a poor lycanthrope not have one off day without you lot getting your knickers in a twist?” Despite his best efforts, there was no ire in his voice.

“Nope!” James said, popping the p. “Not on our watch.”

“Life is simply miserable without our Moony,” Sirius said, clutching his chest as if he was ailing. “And do you have any idea how weird it is to see your sweetheart without you by her side? It’s like watching a cut up picture.”

All humour that had been creeping into Remus’ expression was washed away in and instant as he swallowed harshly, suddenly averting his gaze from Sirius. Instead, James caught it, who looked at him with big eyes behind his glasses, cocking his head to the side. He looked far too much like the stag he is, before his mouth opened in a small gasp. “Oh,” he whispered softly.

Remus’ heart was beating painfully hard at the look of realisation that crossed his face, turning back to Sirius who had a similar knowing, almost pitying look in his eyes. No, no, no, no.

“I’ll be fine, you, erm, won’t have to live without me much longer,” Remus tried to volley back, just a few seconds too late, tongue feeling heavy at being found out.

If his best mates could see through him that quickly, then you probably already had. He had half a mind to take you up to the Astronomy Tower like old times, so he could apologise and then jump off as an act of redemption.

Sirius gave his shoulder a rough squeeze, shaking him a little as if he knew what was going through his mind. “Fantastic. Then you’ll join us for our free periods, yeah? And the party later tonight?”

Still somewhat sputtering, Remus’ eyes widened to an extent he was sure was comedic. “The pa– the party?”

James smiled at him. “Yeah, Moons. Gryffindor half-term party? That we have talked about all week?”

“Merlin, maybe Pomfrey needs to go easy on the potions she gives you,” Sirius teased, getting up to finish changing.

“Or she could give me more,” Remus whispered hopefully, earning him a round of chuckles. 

“You’ll be fine, Rem,” James said, with an undertone Remus did not care for. “If you’re still feeling… off throughout the day and night, you can always snuggle up with a book and ignore us hooligans.” Then, almost as if he was testing the waters. “I’m sure Y/N would love to join you.”

Remus didn’t deign any of that with a response, but he suddenly thought he should get out of his bed so his face didn’t seem so red in contrast with the white sheets.

“I have some essays to knock out, so yeah, I’ll join you to study,” Remus relented. He opened his own trunk to get changed, but decided to half-ass it and just take off his tie and replace his uniform wool with one of his own patterned jumpers.

“And for the party later!” Sirius corrected, ensuring Remus didn’t think he could back out.

“Sure, sure.” He ruffled his own hair so it was Remus-messy and not Sirius-messed-up-my-hair-messy. “Let’s just go.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Considering the extent to which he could fuck this up for himself, Remus reckoned he had been doing fairly good keeping his shit together throughout the day.

If he mentally cursed more than normal, contemplated the murder of each one of his friends including himself and generally couldn’t breathe, well, that was merely part of it.

The whole lot had shacked up in the library for the triple free periods you had back to back on Fridays. While you doted concernedly over him for the first thirty minutes, you eased up once you seemed to decide that this wasn’t Remus shoving down some lycanthropy-struggles and avoiding support and help. 

As always, the two of you sat in the love seat, your legs sprawled over his lap as you read through your textbooks in the oddest positions. This was usually something he might chide you for – “your neck will hurt if you hang over the edge like that, love” – but today he buried his face into his textbooks with all his might to not seem like he was aware of your body. He was, of course, you burned over his skin and lit up his heart, and Circe’s tits was he the stupidest sod in the whole castle.

Nonetheless, he made it through all three hours, engaging in comforting banter and low laughs with his best mates. When you teamed up with him to mess with Sirius, he at least knew that you weren’t upset with him in any way, even though he was being a lunatic today, even though he most definitely would have deserved it.

What Remus knew would be his breaking point was the Gryffindor party.

It was a laid back event, a party thrown for all of Gryffindor, though it was mostly the upper years who were encouraged to attend. They arranged it halfway through every term to celebrate making it through and engaging with each other. Meaning, most people didn’t get shitfaced but there was some good bubbling energy maintained throughout the whole night.

You and Remus had a tradition for how you dealt with parties – just as you had a tradition for pretty much everything, he had come to notice. Gods, he lov– Stop it.

Neither one of you were necessarily fond of large crowds, but you both were incredibly loyal and fond of your friends and wanted to spend time with them. Thus, you attended the parties, but you always did so together. The more uncomfortable you got, the closer you would get to each other, and if one ever needed a break, they would tap the other three times and they would make up an excuse to usher them out of there.

It had never felt so unnerving to be so known.

Throughout the whole party he had been jittery, head rushing with thoughts. He desperately tried not to take in your outfit and then he desperately tried not to read into it when you seemed disappointed he didn’t compliment you for it like he usually did. Why did he have to be such a sweet best friend normally? Remus can’t keep up with himself.

It did not help him in the slightest that others around the party seemed to focus on your outfit much more openly than he could dare. It made him gravitate even closer to you, tighten his hand on his hip, momentarily rest his chin on the top of your head – and then his actions made him want to kick himself. Possessiveness was the last thing he could be engaging with when he was already betraying you in such a manner. 

Leave it to Remus to fuck up something beautiful.

To say you didn’t seem to notice that he was troubled would be taking it too far, but at least you didn’t seem to notice why. You kept him close to your side and would at random points stroke his back soothingly. He wondered if you just thought he was uncomfortable with the party.

You were chatting with Pandora by the drinks table when Barty and Evan strolled up to you both with cheshire cat grins.

“There he is, back on his leash,” Junior said through a menacing laugh, ignoring Evan’s slight elbow to his side. “Feeling better, darling?”

“What brings you to the lions' den, Junior?” Remus asked carefully to divert the topic.

“Well. Y/N’s going so Pandora’s going so Evan’s going, and thus–” he did a small flourishing spin “– I’m going.”

“You’re impossible,” Evan murmured, while Pandora just smiled happily. 

“Is he feeling better, then?” Barty asked once more, this time looking at you.

“No, actually,” you said with a small smile Remus knew not to be genuine. “He is absolutely devastated you’re not in the Slytherin common room right now. He had big plans for you there, you know.”

Remus tried to choke down his laugh as Barty looked torn between glee and irritation. Somehow he made both work. “Sorry to soil your plans then, Lupin. Better luck next time.”

Then he stalked off in almost a hurry and Remus couldn’t help but hope he was going to Slytherin to check if you were telling the truth. 

He looked down at where you were standing beside him and squeezed your shoulder lightly. “You really are a minx,” he whispered conspiratorially.

That turned out to be his undoing. You turned your head to the side to look up at him with mirth playing around in your enamouring eyes, a soft tilt to the corner of your mouth. And your face was oh so painfully close to his.

Remus became acutely aware that he could easily lean in and catch your smile with his. That the air he was breathing had been close to you in some of the only ways he had not yet. That he must look like your boyfriend when you’re standing essentially pressed up against each other like this.

That he most certainly has been looking at your lips for far too long.

When he flicks his gaze back up, he sees a slight furrow between your brows again as you seem to take in his reaction, and suddenly he goes from having butterflies in his stomach to needing to throw them all up. He took a sudden staggering step backwards, almost crashing into James who was engaging in some animated discussion with Marlene.

“I, uh,” Remus said and dear Godrick he was stammering. “I’ll get us some drinks and we can sit down, yeah?” He didn’t wait for you to respond, instead spinning his back to you and hoping you pick up conversation with Pandora again.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Don’t be a bloody arse.

He hoped he had steadied himself enough by the time he plopped down in his favourite grandfather chair near the fire. He placed both of your drinks on the table in front of him, vowing to touch his as minimally as possible to make sure he keeps whatever wits he has left with him.

A dumb smile takes over his face as his breathing quickens when he sees you make your way over to the seating area, after having listened to his desperate silent plea and finished your conversation with Pandora. Pushing his luck, he shoots another silent prayer that it will be smooth sailing from here, which is apparently promptly ignored as you happily sit down in his lap.

Fuck.

This, he reminds himself, is also normal for the two of you. Especially at parties, especially if you have reason to believe he is unsteady in any sense of the word, which he most certainly has given you plenty of reason to believe. 

You give him some form of greeting he can’t quite catch and isn’t sure if he reciprocated as you settle down, putting majority of your weight on his right thigh as you lean your body sideways against his. One of your arms snuck around his shoulders, fingers winding up playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, while the other is stabilising yourself on his knee. Majority of your close friends had followed your lead by sitting down in the small gathering, chattering amongst themselves. He was half-aware that you were rambling on about something to him, something he probably really wanted to listen to, but it felt like his head was underwater.

Unsure of what else to do, he lowered his face into your shoulder and took deep breaths there.

You seemed wholly unbothered, fingers continuing in his hair as your soothing voice carried him through what he feared might become a panic attack. He was almost there, when the cocoon you two had in your chair was burst by the presence of your other friends.

“You alright there, Moons? You’re not going to go all vampire on poor Y/N?” Sirius’ tone was lighthearted and teasing, but Remus felt as if he might actually die.

“Oh, he’s quite alright,” you answered for him with a smile before he could embarrass himself, immediately switching over to engage in conversation with the friends sitting closest to you. Your hand on his knee squeezed reassuringly.

Fuck, how could he not love you?

He loved you.

Remus almost had to fight crying as he hid in the crook of his neck, overwhelmed by his own emotions and the surely watchful gazes of those around him – the latter of which was why he couldn’t. 

With a deep breath he let his desire win for just one second and pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder before emerging from his hiding place. He shifted you carefully to be more comfortable, so that your back was against him and he could rest his head on the shoulder he just kissed.

He did fairly good, partaking in conversation, engaging with the others, albeit more quietly and less than usual. He laughed and he smiled and you were so soft against him, as if you had melted. Remus was in heaven while being tortured.

Marlene wolf whistled quietly from where she was sat on the floor, eyeing Remus with mirth. Though he still did not know why, he was already turning red, the tips of his ears burning.

“Hi, Remmy.” He heard the soft voice say beside him and he turned his head to see Emmeline giving him a somewhat sly smile. “The dance floor’s picking up. Want to go for another round?”

Remus’ stomach churned. Emmeline was such a sweet girl and he never could say no to her, the only thing that felt worse than the embarrassment from his friends’ teasing was the thought of embarrassing her – though Remus was sure even thinking like that made him into an even bigger arse.

Sirius and James had told him multiple times that he could say no. As had you, reminding him how important it was to have boundaries, even while you were sitting practically on top of him at the time. He just could never bring himself to.

Yet his mouth seemed to move on its own accord before he could think, arms tightening around you. “No, not tonight Emmeline, sorry. Knock yourself out, though.” He tried to give her a warm smile, but his movements seemed to be outside of his control at the moment, breath sucked from his lungs.

He realised with a sting that he should have given her more credit all along when she beams back at him. “No worries, enjoy your night!” she cheered before twirling towards the dance floor herself.

Remus let out a shaky breath and turned to his friends who were almost staring him down. James’ mouth was even open in shock, which he thought was a bit dramatic.

“Hold on, what just happened?” Sirius guffawed. “Has our little Moony learned to say no?”

Remus flushed even further. “Shut up, Pads.”

“Don’t think I will,” his mate replied with a wolfish grin turning to look to the others for support. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“What’s inspired this change in you?” Mary asked thoughtfully, propping her head into her hands as if she was settling in for a lengthy response.

All eyes were back on Remus and he felt like the mask he had been clinging to all day was crumbling. The nerves that shot through him like lightning now was not his usual humiliation from being in a charged spotlight – no, this was fear. Genuine fear that if he didn’t get his head screwed back on within two seconds, he might say something too revealing, or his face would do it without him having to open his mouth. That his fiery ears would somehow spell out I am in love with my very best friend and I realised it too late and am making it everybody else’s problem. He had no idea what to do.

In his time of despair, with Mary’s big eyes staring up at him, Marlene and Lily already snickering between them and Sirius raising an expecting brow, his instincts knew of only one way out.

His finger on your hip lifted. Tap, tap, tap.

Almost as if a switch had gone off, you made a soft gasp and turned to look at him in his lap. “Gods, Rem, speaking of Emmeline, I totally forgot our gift for Sirius in my dorm room in Ravenclaw!” you exclaimed, putting your all into the act. Your excuse seemed to be a good one as Sirius’ head immediately picked up, not unlike that of a dog’s if you said the word ‘treat’ around them. “We have to go get it before the party’s over.”

You elegantly hopped up and out of his lap, dragging him behind him with a grip on his elbow. Remus stumbled and scrambled behind you, tossing a sorry don’t know what that’s about look to the others over his shoulder. He barely caught sight of what he could only classify as a knowing exchange of smiles between James and Lily.

Before he could truly process your rescue mission, he was standing outside in the cool hallway breathing heavily, portrait closed behind him. 

Before him, you stood with your hands on your hips, scanning his face thoroughly, making him almost cower beneath your gaze. You seemed to make up your mind about something as you took his hand once more and walked with him down the hall in silence, rounding the corners until you reached one of the deep windowsills, the kind the two of you would always sit in and read. 

You jumped to lift yourself into it and once you were sat with one hand on each side of your body, you levelled him with a look.

“Okay, spill,” you said, directly but not unkindly. “What is going on with you?”

Remus did not think this through. He needed help and so he called upon you for it like he always does, not thinking to consider that that might very well make this worse for him.

“It’s…” he began, picking at straws in his mind for an excuse. “It’s nothing, dove. Really.” 

“When’s my birthday?” you asked then, to his surprise. He furrowed his brows at you and told you the date. You smiled a bit smugly. “Exactly. So you know I wasn’t born yesterday.”

He genuinely laughed at that, even if it was at his expense. He let his body do as it wished and took a small step closer to you. Not enough for your bodies to touch, but enough to feel like he was in your space. Safe, even in his panic.

“Remus,” you said softly, painfully gently. You rarely used his first name, and now when you did, it was laced with an undertone he couldn’t stomach. It was beginning to sound a bit like hurt. “What is going on with you? Why… why are you acting this way towards me?”

Because you are the one thing I have never had to question and now I’m questioning everything. Because I’m a bloody prick who has one dream and ruins his life over it. Because my mind is running a mile a minute and your lips feel like magnets and I swear I am losing control in a way I only do during full moons.

“I don’t know what to do,” he ended up whimpering quietly, cowardly.

You looked around the hallway as if the answer would be written on any of the walls and moved your arms slightly to gesture around you. “About what? I can’t help you unless I know what it is, cariad.”

He scrunched his face for a moment, looking away from you. “Can we not do this? It’s nothing you can fix, dove.”

You seemed to grow even more confused at that, almost frustrated. “Why not?” He realised then that the two of you had always helped each other through everything. Being locked out must hurt. He wanted to kick himself, but he didn't know what else to do. “What’s wrong, Remus, please I just–”

Remus is besieged by the power of someone much more reckless, driven by desire to alleviate you of your confusion and him of his pain.

He cut you off with a kiss.

He took a large stride forward to slot himself in between your thighs, eliminating the space between you within a second, bringing both hands up to cup the sides of your face and bring it towards him. His eyes were shut tightly, furrow in his brows as his lips all but smashed against yours in a kiss that felt sacrificially sacred. Your lips are just as soft as in his dream, as is the small gasp that escapes you as you tense in his grasp.

Remus has never felt better and he has never felt worse.

The kiss lasts for about 10 seconds before he pulls away in even more of a flurry. His hands lost their grip on you first, hovering over your cheeks briefly, as if considering going back in before thinking better of it. He still had you captured in the kiss, hanging on to it for as long as he could deign himself, knowing it was his last opportunity to do so, all the while kicking himself over it.

Backing away, he put double the distance between you. He felt drunk, stumbling slightly as he all but scrambled away, a stinging sensation behind his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, I don't know why I did that. I didn’t mean to,” he breathed out, reeling at his own impulsivity. “That,” he said through a shaking voice as he looked anywhere but your face, “is my problem, and Y/N, I am so, so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

For the shortest second, he lets his eyes flicker quickly over your face before rushing back to stare at a statue on the wall beside you. Your face was blank, eyes wide. Your fingers were barely touching the lips he had just enclosed in his own.

You must be disgusted. You must be horrified. You must feel violated and Remus wanted nothing more than to disappear from the face of the earth and rid you of this undying problem.

He was every bit the beast you had tried to convince him he wasn’t.

“Why…” you began, voice but a whisper, before you trailed off.

Remus had to shut his eyes at that, tilting his head slightly to the side. If he breathed through his nose, he might not cry. He was sitting before the highest court he knew, and you were about to ask him to explain himself.

“Why are you sorry?”

The words floored him a little, enough to make his eyes snap open and land back on your face. You looked deeply concerned, brows tilted upwards as you seemed to take his face in. “Remus,” you whispered now that you finally had his eyes on you. “Why are you sorry?”

He shook his head in confusion, feeling every bit like the boy he was. “I shouldn’t have done that.” It was all he could get out through his hoarse voice. He also had no idea how to answer that question in a satisfactory way.

You took in a short sharp breath and then lowered yourself onto the ground to stand before him. With your hands held out in front of you, almost as if you were ready to lunge out and catch him if he was to run – an idea that was becoming increasingly enticing to him – you took a small step towards him. “Why?” There was a growing spark in your eye, dimmed only by your worried frown.

“Y/N.” He didn’t know what else to say, eyes trained on you.

“Cariad,” you replied in the same tone, and a tear slipped down his left cheek. You took another measured step towards him, enough to reach out for him if you wanted to – but of course, you wouldn’t want to, not anymore. “It’s alright.”

He felt dizzy at the lack of the scolding or disgust he had braced himself for, realising how stupid he was for even fearing that from you. No, you would reject him sweetly and kindly, and his heart would never be mended from it. That felt worse, somehow.

“It’s not,” he whispered. “Please don’t say it is.”

You smiled ruefully and took another small step towards him. He could feel the warmth eminating from you. Tentatively, you reached up a hand to wipe at the tear still sitting on his left cheek. He held his breath and fought the urge to lean into your touch, but when you pressed your palm more firmly against his cheek, he couldn’t anymore. A soft sigh escaped him and he let his eyes fall shut as your touch supported him. “It is, my sweet boy,” you whispered with an urgency that almost convinced him. “Remus, can you answer me honestly?”

His body tensed once more as his eyes fluttered open to find yours, reverent. Most parts of him were still screaming at him to run away, to shut up, to do anything but this. His heart seemed to be in charge for the moment, though, and he nodded slowly. Trusting you with his world even as he felt like a traitor in yours.

“All this, today… has it been because you have realised you’re… in love with me?” You seemed to be piecing it together as you said the words out loud, eyes carefully searching his face for his reaction.

Another tear slipped down his cheek, and you quickly caught it with your other thumb, both hands now cradling his face. “I’m so sorry,” he said once more.

“You’re not allowed to be,” you whispered, giving him a half-smile, almost as if you were indulging him in a secret of yours. “Please answer the question?”

It was now or never. “Yes.”

To his utter surprise and deep-seated confusion, the smile on your face grew genuine, settling into the one he always searched for. He almost opened his mouth to question it before he was cut off.

No words can describe the sensations that bloomed in his chest, the butterflies that flitted in his stomach, when you used your hands on his face as leverage to pull him towards you for another kiss.

You kissed him. You kissed him. You were kissing.

His mind was threatening to take off like a rocket and captiulate, but his hands had never been more steady as they circled around your waist, splaying out over the small of your back as he dragged you closer. You sighed against him, smile still evident over your lips, and Remus dared – like the bastard he was – to mirror it. 

You were warm against him, but wholly different than you had been in his dream. This felt distinctly real. And just as right.

When you pulled away, your hands had migrated to the back of his neck and you kept your forehead leaned against his. “Good,” you murmured with your eyes still closed. “Because the feeling is mutual.”

He almost reared his head away from you, but managed to only pull back a few centimetres to stare at you in awe. Remus opened his mouth, but no words came out; he could find none intelligent enough to verbalise how utterly gobsmacked he felt.

You seemed to understand him just as well, going by your breathy laugh. There was still that spark in your eye, now shining brightly in the absence of your worry. Had the worry been for him?

“I know I don’t say this enough, but you really are quite an idiot, aren’t you?” you laughed and he slowly felt his heart start beating again.

“Spent too much time with Sirius and James, clearly,” he muttered, half expecting the joke to land flat and you to remember how disgusting he was. Instead, your laugh intensified and you leaned your body further against his. It emboldened him to ask, “What do you mean the feeling is mutual, dove?”

You let your arms glide further up, crossing behind his neck and over his shoulder, bringing him impossibly closer. “Remus John Lupin,” you whispered sincerely. “I am madly in love with you. Romantically. Genuinely. Any thoughts you have that explain that away are false and you mustn't listen to them. I thought you knew by now that I’m always right.”

Even as the grin involuntarily established itself on his face, his eyes were shining with unshed tears. He looked at your face, truly studied it, and he could feel his mind ever so slowly calm down. “You are.”

“What am I?” You were testing him, and he allowed it wholeheartedly.

“Right,” he confirmed. Albeit a bit more hesitantly, he knew better than not to add, “and… in love with me?”

“Two points to Gryffindor.” You reached up to give his lips a soft peck. It felt so natural, like it was already habit for you. He desperately wanted it to be.

“I’m sorry, I’m still reeling from this, dovey,” he confessed, trying to process everything.

There had never been any judgement to be found in your face. “Which parts are you struggling with the most?” 

Your eyes were full of understanding, your face scrunched up in concentration. Remus indulged himself in an old habit by reaching up with one hand to thumb the furrows away. It made you smile just like he wanted it to, and gave him a minute to think. “I don’t understand how I didn’t get it before now. I don’t understand how or why you put up with me. I don’t understand how to keep all these feelings inside such a small heart.”

Your hands were stroking his back carefully as you considered his words. “Well, firstly I would argue your heart isn’t small at all, though I get what you mean. You’re not meant to keep all the feelings inside, you know? That’s when you get all sputtery and jittery and start avoiding your best friends.” You gave him a pointed look and he almost shied under your glance. “Sharing them before you bubble over is always a good thing. We’ll work on it together. As for why I put up with you; I don’t. There’s nothing to put up with, I just enjoy you like we always have.”

Your eyes had trailed off into the distance as you thought, but you brought them back to him with a small smile as you added the final part. “I don’t know what did make you realise, so I can’t help you much there. All I can say is, sometimes we don’t see what is right in front of us.”

Remus nodded along to your words, feeling peace spreading within in that manner only you could inspire in him. He truly was an idiot, wasn’t he? “How long have you known?” he asked then, curiously.

“About you or me?”

“Both?” His smile was becoming closer to his standard sheepish one, and you seemed to preen at the sight.

You bobbed your head side to side as you considered. “It’s hard to pinpoint an exact date – it wasn’t an overnight discovery you know?” Remus did in fact not know nor relate. “But I realised we were in love, not either one’s feelings. It just sat calmly within me.”

“You mean you didn’t freak out to the extent where all students and professors alike were worried about you?”

He grinned at the small giggle that drew from you as you decidedly said, “No. Definitely not.” You studied him for a minute more. “I think I realised about five months ago, but I didn’t feel any real need to rush anything. It felt less like being given a to-do list and more like being revealed the plot twist in a movie before it happens, if you understand? The two best friends get together in the end, don’t tell anyone.”

He ducked his head at that. While he could not relate, your explanation and experience was so wholeheartedly you that it endeared him to no end. “Does that mean we should just ignore it for five more months or…?” His grin turned cheeky as you lightly swatted his shoulder.

“Nah,” you chuckled. “I reckon we’ve waited long enough, yeah?”

He sighed with a smile. “Yeah.”

You both leaned forward at the same time, as if to seal the deal with a kiss. Remus could feel it like electricity in the tips of his fingers, and he understood what you meant about knowing. Now that he was no longer in a constant state of panic, he felt incredibly calm about the whole ordeal.

Or maybe that’s just how he feels around you.

“Should I ask you formally to be my girlfriend, or are we just skipping straight to marriage?” he whispered against your lips.

Remus felt almost wolfish when you barked a loud laugh, throwing your head back and tightening your hold on him instinctively. “I think girlfriend’s enough for now, yeah cariad?”

“If you insist.” He kissed you through his grin, realising that this was all he wanted to do now.

Like he had so many times before, he tightened his arms around your waist and twirled you around in a few circles, legs flying out behind you. Except this time, your giggles were not hidden in his neck but pressed against his lips, and he tried to capture as many kisses as possible while he spun you.

When you landed with a breathless giggle, he kept one arm firmly around your waist as the two of you slowly made your way back to the Gryffindor common room. He wondered if maybe he could grab some blankets and bring you up to the Astronomy Tower so you could be alone without his friends’ meddling. Yet, he wanted to see them as well, ready to volley back any quips about “took you long enough” and “I fucking called it”. Plus, you argued that you should prove that he was in fact alive and sane.

When he walked the halls back to the Gryffindor common room with your body against his, everything felt right. When you entered together, and everyone read what had happened written clearly across your faces, resorting to their usual hoots and hollers, arguably louder than ever before, it never stopped feeling right. 

Remus being Remus, flushed deeply and averted his gaze, as he would continue doing under any uncalled for attention – but your arms squeezing him around the middle brought him right back down and your kiss to his shoulder soothed the burn of their gazes.

“What’s my gift then?” Sirius later asked salaciously as he eyed you two up and down where you cuddled together right back in the same chair, as if nothing changed. Maybe nothing really did.

You grinned widely and cleared your throat. “I honourably present to you,” you said and opened your arms towards Remus with a flourish. “A Moony who is no longer mooning.”

The little group erupted in even more cheers, celebrating the massive feat of taming their brooding boy. Remus couldn’t help but laugh along, even at his own expense. His cheeks were red but it was equally due to the exertion of laughing as it was a tinge of embarrassment. When he hid his face into the crook of your neck again, he didn’t feel nearly as guilty when he pressed a few kisses to the bare skin he found there – even less so when you melted against him with a sigh.

It felt as if a permanent smile had been sown onto his face where he sat, more content than he believed he had been while inside this castle.

Despite Remus Lupin’s disdain for public displays of affection, he had held you publicly many times before this. They all paled in comparison to the feeling of you in his arms now. 

It had always been significant to him in its casualty, just as you have always been significant to him long before he had the mind to put the feeling into words. He will always treasure every moment of your existence in his orbit. Yet the way you melted into his skin now, growing roots in each one of his aching bones – no, nothing could compare to it.

Yes, Remus Lupin ailed from public displays of affection. But you were his cure.

[lilacgaby]

‧₊˚truth bomb!‧₊˚

getting hit by a truth quirk? not so fun. dealing with it while having a huge crush on bakugo katsuki? even worse.

- ღpairing. 3rdyear!katsuki x reader. tags. friends to lovers, truth telling quirk, wingmen, kissing scenes, confessions, fighting, miscommunication trope, U-A girls love you, she/her pronoun use, fem!reader, earthquirk!reader. wc. 8k

- ღnote. i win the slowest writer ever award! anyways, i wrote this in chapter form here, this is a rework of my first work ever, and i completely changed the plot for anyone who might have read itt

this wasn't how your mission was supposed to go.

the thought ran through your head as you resisted the urge to bang your head against the concrete. that fate would probably be better than whatever you'd face having to confess, out of your will, to your longtime crush, katsuki.

but, the day started out normal enough. you were on a patrol, randomly scheduled as all your patrols usually were because of your mentor, mirko. she lacked the traditional agency and took missions as she pleased, which meant you'd usually be along for the ride.

which entailed things like this, walking boredly along the streets, running your fingers along metal pipes, trying to find something- anything to quench your eternal boredom.

it didn't work though.

you finally groaned, rolling your eyes as you looked at mirko, who seemed oddly determined. “we've been walking in this place for like– what? an hour? it's so boring!” you kicked a rock, making it clash against a random trash can.

“a deserted town is perfect, it's exactly what an up and coming villain group would want to start up. think before you speak for once.” she chided, not even looking over at you as she continued walking forth. “anyways, you should be able to feel it, can't you? they're close.”

sure enough, you could. the vibrations of their movement, the reverberation of their voices bouncing off the walls of the random alleyway of where you two stood felt as you focused your stance.

they were close. you sighed, though now of relief that you'd finally be able to beat them and get out of here as soon as you can, you stretched your hands and fingers, getting ready to manipulate the ground below you. “well then what are you waiting for? let's go!”

mirko nodded, and wordlessly followed you as you two positioned yourselves on a rooftop above the rowdy group of villains. they were laughing heartily, seemingly unaware and full of glee as they continued down the city streets. the sun was coming down, golden sunlight illuminating your figure as you closed your eyes and focused in on their positions, trusting your quirk more than your vision.

you stomped lightly and closed your eyes, feeling their positions out perfectly, as well as mirko’s readied stance beside you. nobody was around for miles, on the ground at least, so you focused in to hear their words.

mocking cries of innocent civilians left the mouth of the biggest one. “oh, please don't hurt me!” he cried, a fake squeaky voice cut off by his laughter. “oh man, what a pathetic excuse for a human.”

“fleeting the town completely in what? two days? we're the shit man.” another replied, high-fiving amongst themselves as they snickered and giggled.

they held bags of money and prized belongings in their grasps, smirks and sneers as they lugged them down the city. the one they seemed to think they ‘owned’ now that the civilians fled to safety. one that they were making a mess of.

you felt mirko’s figure, the growing hostility in her stance. the balling of her fist and her legs that were ready to pounce at any given moment.

“i'm all clear.” you whispered. “on your call, i'm ready.”

you could even feel the twitch of her ears, the wind blowing a spare leaf of the ground, but most importantly,

you felt the millisecond where she lowered to jump.

in response you launched the ground underneath you with a flick of the hand, landing yourself perfectly next to mirko. she held out a fist to the group, who jumped at the sight of you two.

“listen up losers!” she began, pointing a daunting finger at the biggest of the group, who had a literal screw growing out the base of his neck. a shiver went down your spine at the sight. “you can beg for forgiveness now, or later! which is it?”

a moment of silence passed, before one of them declared, “how about never? attack!”

half of the group focused on mirko, while the others were now facing you. you sighed, fixing yourself in a relaxed stance, before swiftly punching up to launch chucks of rock and steel out of the ground, into the bodies of the offending men coming towards you.

a few of them dodged, making you repeat the same attack again, since you really didn't feel like going full strength for villains at this level. your eyebrows furrowed as you realized one of them had taken the opportunity to make a break for it, but ignored it for now as the final guy stood against you.

mirko stole your spotlight though, landing a kick in his hand that rendered him unconscious.

“hey. i called dibs.” you whined, before walking over to her. “alls fair in love and war.” she said, before pointing to the almost comically large bags of money and jewelry. “we need to clean these up and get these guys locked up. round up the bags and i'll get the corpses– uh. bodies.”

with a reassuring smirk, she threw around the bodies into a pile, making you wince at the sound of their groans. you went to move all the money and things into an area for the collection agency.

you moved a bag or two, onto your third bag when a sound was suddenly heard behind you. “freeze.”

an unconfident, shaky, and out of breath voice filled your ears. you froze, not knowing who it was.

“n-now turn around. slowly.” he ordered. you did as he said, noting that his hand was pointing towards you in a handgun motion. the tips of his fingers were glowing a strange light green color. “o-okay. you’re gonna leave all the money there, just for me. okay lady?”

you shrugged, looking back at your work. “i mean, that was the plan anyways. a collection agency is gonna come for you and your friends soo–.”

“no, they're not.” he cut you off with a snarl. “i don't think i gave you permission to talk.”

“but you're still talking to me anyways!”

“why you– teenage brats are the worst. i tried not to kill kids, but you're annoying.” the green light emitted even brighter.

“bye.” the ray was about to shoot at you. you didn't have time to block, but mirko last minute shoved the guy to the ground.

his hand still managed a shot, though with his arm up in the air, it moved from being aimed to your heart, to..

shooting towards your mouth.

you didn't dodge in time, not expecting to get shot in your mouth of all places.

it didn't hurt, but it did feel tingly. the guy was slammed to the ground, his face flat with the floor as your hands shot up to feel the skin around your mouth.

you were.. fine?

“hey!” mirko cut off your thoughts. “you okay? what did he do to you? fuck i should've been quicker.”

“i'm fine. honestly you should have been quicker, i was really stalling here.”

“oh.. well im glad to hear you're fine at least.”

“you heard that??” you were shocked to hear her response, you only meant to say that mentally. you really were just going to say it was fine like always, so why..

why wasn't your mouth listening to you?

“no. like you don't understand mirko, i didn't mean to say that-”

“we all slip up sometimes.”

“no. like, it left my mouth before i realized it.”

her eyes widened, before thumping on the guys head below her. “hey you. what exactly did you do to her? huh?”

at no response, she wacked him against the ground again. “hellooo? i'll do it as many times as i need to-”

“no! please, fine fuck- i'll tell you!”

the collection agency finally was heard in the distance. mirko glared. “talk. fast.”

“okay, okay!” the man was once again shaking. “my quirk is enhancements, but I control how exactly it enhances the body–”

“i didn't ask for a life story. get to the point.”

“well! i wanted to aim for the heart and enhance heart rate, which would of killed her! but– um. i accident aimed for her mouth, and enhanced.. honesty.”

“i see. for how long will it be?”

“uh.. a week i think.”

“huh, why would you become a villain with a quirk like yours anyways? final question before you're shipped off to jail.”

“well, i wanted to bring out the best in the worst, to show that even we villains can triumph!”

“..okay.” she left him on the ground and walked away with you by her side. you were heading back to the U-A dorms to drop you off.

“so, you can't lie to me, huh?”

“nope.” your answer left you before you could process it, like a mental disconnection between your actions. “don't do that, it isn't funny!”

she raised her hands up defensively. “okay, okay. i won't.”

…

“so am i your favorite hero or what?”

“yes.”

“really? since when?” she chided.

“since your debut, i was a hardcore fan for a long time.”

“was?”

“learning the real you killed the rose-tint in my glasses.”

“oh..” she put a hand over her heart. “ouch?”

“you wanted the truth.” you sneered. which wasn't really the right choice at this point, since she took that as liberty to start questioning your every move.

the worst 20 questions of your life was played as you walked home, your legs burning with ache of exhaustion was nothing over the mental anguish of being around a happy-go-lucky mirko.

you finally made it, the dorms in view as she decided to ask you one final question.

“so, my darling apprentice [name]. got any more ideas for questions?”

“no! so stop asking them!”

“you're no fun. hmm, let's see. oh! do you have a crush?”

don't say it, you repeated mentally in your mind, but you felt the oddly numb sensation of the answer leaving you.

“bakugo katsuki.”

her eyes widened and jaw went slack. “seriously? i thought i raised you better.” she joked, poking your side as you went to cover your face with your hands.

the church bells welcomed you as the golden staircase was opened from the clouds. step by step you took, angels singing and a halo over your head as you were greeted by loved ones past–

but your peaceful departure wasn't peaceful for very long.

“well, as long as you're happy [name]. i'll be going now, text me!”

she walked off with a smile that made you feel sick, but you couldn't resist the urge to wave goodbye anyways.

you leant up against the gate of the opening, your arms basically clung around the pillar. catching your breath as you prepared yourself for a week of hiding, of intense planning around your crush–

“hey, you okay weirdo?”

the voice of said crush filled your ears, making you realize that it indeed can always get worse.

“no, i'm not okay.” she said, letting go of the pillar and shakily standing on two feet, feeling like a fawn standing for the first time.

his eyebrows raised like he didn't expect you to say that, his mouth hung open for a second, before he decided to just retort. “oh, sucks to be you then.”

“yes, yes it does.” you say of your own will, dragging a hand longly against your face.

face-to-face with him, the guy you'd randomly became close with over the years, the one that you'd harbored and now openly spoke of your crush on, and the one who you shared an affinity for romance manga with.

“are ya ever g’nna get up properly? or you just gonna stare like a dumbass?” he asked, which made you answer begrudgingly.

“everyone who falls has to get up, unless they're dead.

…

but uh– don't wait on me!”

“...right.” he shrugged, moving back towards the door to walk inside. acting off after a mission wasn't anything crazy after all, they all had weird days. at least that's how he rationalized it.

“oh, and i borrowed some shit from your room. i'll give it you tomorrow.”

“be gentle!”

“whatever.” he closed the door after him, leaving your with your thoughts alone. after the sun had fully left you alone, you decided to bite the bullet and just go inside. taking a deep breath, you walked in, trying your best to just make it to your room.

mina came up to you, a pint of ice cream in her hand. “[name]! you're back! how was it?”

“bad.” you answered, wordlessly asking for a bit of her ice cream.

she gave it to you, before joining you as you walked up the stairs. “wanna talk about it?”

“not really, but it'll be forced out of me.”

“what??”

you sighed, explaining what happened to you in between bites of your ice cream. “truth quirk. talk too much. can't shut up.”

mina made an ‘o’ shape with her lips, pondering it over mentally. “but it's not like you're a crazy liar, what's the big problem?”

“my crush on katsuki. i'm so scared that i'm gonna accidentally be forced to confess because of this.” you admitted.

mina, thankfully didn't overreact. for a second. until she smiled gleefully and shoved you into your room. “wait here, i got something for you.”

she left you with the pint of ice cream, your favorite flavor, which kept you good company until she came back with the girls of the class.

“i hope you don't mind.. well it's too bad if you do, because i told them all already. whoops!” she said, leading them all in and shutting the door.

“so, you're finally confessing?” momo asked, making you almost choke.

“no! this is against my will! i'd never confess in my life! the embarrassment of getting rejected is something i couldn't recover from.”

“really? i mean- i think it's pretty obvious the two of you have something special. ribbit.” tsuyu added, looking up at the ceiling of your dorm thoughtfully. “well, its not like you have a choice now. might as well just do it.” jirou shrugged.

“if you're here to make fun of me you can just leave!” you whined into your hands. “im already making myself miserable just fine!”

the girls exchanged glances, before they sighed. uraraka started, “[name] we were here to try and encourage you to do it out of your own will, but if you really don't want to.. we can help.”

“help? like how?”

mina jumped, “by making sure you don't accidentally confess of course!”

“but it won't be easy.” yaoyorozu chimed in, “we'll have to plan this out well, it's a week isn't it?”

“a week from today.. that's saturday.”

“okay guys, let's do this for [name]!” mina cheered, placing her hand in the middle of the group. the other girls all moved to place their hands on top of hers, and waited for you to finish it off.

“come on!” uraraka encouraged, making you sigh and place your hand on the top.

as you raised your hand on the count of three, hearing their cheers and hopes in encouragement for you and for their plan, you felt a bit of hope that it just might turn out alright.

they shuffled out afterwards, patting you on the back and making tiny promises as they moved out. with a final wink from mina and a whispered, “good night [name], i promise everything will work out!” they were gone.

as you laid in your bed, staring at the ceiling that never changed no matter what did in your life, you allowed yourself to rest.

7 days to go.

when will this end? you thought, all the optimism from yesterday ripped from you.

insomnia arose from the anxiety that implanted a pit of dread in your stomach, it didn't let you sleep, no matter how sleepy you had gotten.

horrible scenarios played one after one, like a record player made of your nightmares. what if he rejected you in front of your school? no, what if he has a secret girlfriend and you look like a total homewrecker for confessing?

or even worse, what if he doesn't like women at all and you missed all the signs?

you squealed into a pillow, trying to escape your sorrows as you realized,

you were probably just hungry for some actual food. when was the last time you ate properly? who knows.

you slipped on house slippers and made your way down the stairs to the kitchen. you prepared a pot of chai, greeting iida and other early risers who were up out of instinct, since it's a sunday.

yawning, you scroll mindlessly on your phone while you wait for your tea to finish. a familiar voice takes you out of your bubble.

“yo.” is all he says, sliding by you by causally placing a hand on your waist, letting go only a second later.

“uh.. hey. want some tea?” you managed, ignoring the spiraling of your soul as you were met by the close proximity of his face. “yeah, sounds cool.”

you pour him a glass, letting him put the sugar in by himself as you fix one for yourself too. he looks to see if anyone was in earshot of the two of you, before whispering into your ear.

“did you see when usui jumped off the building for misa?”

“yes. its one of my favorite scenes!” you answer before you realize it, but you're slowly starting to get used to the feeling of it. “i mean, he's so cool for that.”

“yeah, but his legs would be fucked. or he'd be paralyzed for life after that fall. would've been an easy choice to make him break a leg and have ‘er take care of him.”

“but isn't that so predictable? it's better to take a unique route-”

“no spoilers.”

“it's not really a spoiler though! man, i really loved that scene. i think it's my favorite.”

“why?” he asked, an odd tonal shift in his voice.”

“i like usui.”

“no, like. do you imagine someone doing that to you?” he was close, way to close. your mouth was opening, your answer was so clear to you, it was about to be ruined, until–

“oh [name]! may i have some of your tea please?” yaoyarozu saved the day. you thanked her mentally, getting her a glass and smiling at her small wink. she hung close by, you didn't notice before, but she was within earshot.

“anyways, what were we talking about katsuki?”

“..'s nothing. see ya.”

he left her there, knees weak in worry or affection? both probably. she mouthed a thank you to momo, before going back up to her dorm to get ready for the day.

sunday, not much to do thankfully. you decided to hang out in your room for a while, drawing and relaxing, managing to catch up on a couple hours of sleep as you tried to avoid katsuki as much as possible.

though, even in this brief moment where you were attempting to avoid him, you couldn't help but notice that he tended to come to you first.

greetings and conversations started by him, fleeting touches initiated by him, small nods in the hallways of the dorms given by him, and even-

a text message left by him, asking if he could come to your dorm for just a moment. for the books.

you wondered now if he was solely coming for that reason.. could there be an off chance he was coming for you?

..no. no way, you thought. you brushed it off, and opted to make it seem like the girls were already in your room, just so you wouldn't be alone with him. can't take chances anymore.

you texted the girls the news, and the ones who weren't at the mall or busy came to see you, leaving uraraka, tsuyu, and hagakure.

you welcomed them in, “thanks for coming guys. we can actually paint each others nails since we're already here?”

they all nodded with excitement, you pulled out the limited colors you had, though they were all your favorites. they began to paint each other’s nails, while you finally texted him back. telling him to come, but that the others were here too. he only reacted with a thumbs up.

“what did he say?” tsuyu asked.

“oh, he just responded with a thumbs up.” like you summoned him, a knock was heard at the door. you went to open it, making the girls laugh quietly behind their hands. greeting you was the sight of katsuki in his usual baggy attire holding two bags of books from what you could see. you stepped outside of your room, the door behind you. “hi katsuki.”

“hey– uh, [name].” he greeted. he held up a bag and handed it to you. “thanks for um.. lending it to me.” a hand naturally went towards the back of his head, rubbing it as he averted his eyes away from you.

he waited for you to set the bag down inside the room, before holding out the second one to you.

“what's this?” you asked, accepting it as you looked into red eyes.

“well– it's some of my collection. you haven't read it before, it's so we could talk about it. or something.”

a soft smile overcame you. “i think i'd like that.”

hagakure made a casual remark, they'd been eavesdropping from behind the door, muffled remarks not quite coherent enough to be a worry. but one question had managed to reach your and his ears.

“they're so cute together! aren't they literally dating?”

his face tinged pink, but you knew you'd say your thoughts.

“i wish.”

his face looked incredulous, as if he couldn't believe you just said that. “wait- what did you just–”

but before he could finish the question that would seal your fate, the door was opened quickly behind you, uraraka placing a hand over your mouth before smiling nervously. “um, she's not in her right mind today bakugo! don't mind her.”

his eyebrow raised. “really? why?”

“because.. it's that time of the month?” she managed, making him reel back and look apologetic. “oh. ill be.. going now then. bye.” you two waved him goodbye.

he left quickly, leaving his books next to the door as he speed walked away.

you were conflicted, not knowing whether to glare at or thank uraraka, but you closed the door behind you anyways.

“are you guys serious?”

“sorry!” hagakure pleaded. “i didn't think you two could hear me, the door wasn't closed all the way!”

“i mean, we were kind of close-”

“guys! all that matters is that i fixed it!”

“what do you mean fixed it?” you cut in. “you told him im out of my mind right now.”

“it'll be okay, he likes you too much to hold it against you.” she waved it off with a smile, and held your shoulders gently. “what you really should

he worried about is school. missions come at the end of the week, but how are you gonna deal with monday through wednesday?”

“i feel like you're changing the subject. and i'm going to avoid him. easy as pie.”

they all glanced at eachother, then back at you. “sure [name]. whatever you say.”

they all bid their goodbyes soon after, hagakure still apologizing profusely as the other two patted themselves on the back for speedy thinking.

the door shut and once again you were left to plan, only this time you managed a good night's sleep.

your life wasn't completely over, at least.

you dreaded the next three days. thursday and friday were safe for you, the only person you'd have to deal with being mirko since agencies tended to schedule students at the end of the week.

you woke up and prepared yourself. it was alright eight, so you'd only have an hour before heading to school.

you'd showered and changed, fixed your hair and fixed your bag.

unfortunately, katsuki is a really good guy.

a good friend, caring too. thats why you were startled by the sight of him at your door. you didn't have time to prepare, no time to call your backup or report, because he caught you right as many of the girls just woke up.

you were still rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you looked up at him, “katsuki?”

he held a bag in his hand, something that was oddly reoccurring lately. “hey, about your 'time of the month’ shit.” he placed the bag safely in your arms, and averted his eyes from you once again.

“i brought you some stuff i thought might help, since we got class today.”

“really? you shouldn't have.” you peeked in the top, seeing a stuffed animal, chocolates, a heating pad, and some ice packs.

he sighed, almost dreamily. “i wanted to. i hope you stop feeling so fucked.” a beat passes, his eyebrows scrunched as if he wants to say something more, but he chooses not to.

“see ya.” with that, he left you alone with a warm feeling spreading throughout your chest. the pink bag gripped tightly in your hands and set gently onto your desk.

the warm feeling was soon gone, replaced with a feeling of guilt. guilt for basically ignoring him.

you slumped onto your desk in the middle of the class, scribbling down notes like there was no tomorrow, taking sips of a drink you enjoyed while ignoring the growing ache in your wrist.

mr. aizawa was just going over the basics of hero courtesy again, a refresher for your on hand experience at the end of the week. you really didn't need to take notes, but you found it got your mind off the red eyes you felt looking at the back of your head.

you were almost tempted to look back, almost. but with a determination that rivaled even midoriya’s, you just kept going.

finally, the lunch bell rang. you got up and stretched, everyone got their bearings and followed suit. they all piled out, leaving you as the last one there, though you couldn't help but notice a lingering gaze stare at you, before he finally followed suit and left the classroom.

you stood there, trying to figure out what you should do for lunch, when a ‘ahem’ brought you out of your thoughts.

“[name]. i appreciate your hard work in class and all, but id like to nap this period.” mr aizawa said gruffly.

“oh! sorry! i was just leaving.” you grabbed your lunchbox and ran out the room.

now came the issue of figuring out where to sit.

it was no secret to anyone that you and katsuki would usually spend the entire lunch period on the roof together most days, you'd even go up there by yourself on days he wasn't here.

so to be in the cafeteria again was a bit unnerving for you, but you took a spot besides jirou and got out the lunch you made.

she seemed surprised to see you, but then remembered why you were here. “it's cool to see you down here [name]. you're only ever up on the rooftop making out with your boyfriend.”

“we don't even make out. and he's not my boyfriend!”

“sure. that's why he's staring over here right now. and he stares at you in class too, does he ever get tired?”

“i don't know, why are you asking me like i know him in and out?”

“okay, let's just calm down you two.” momo cut in. “[name], happy to see you.”

you nodded, “yeah? i'm happy to see you too.”

you tried your best to ignore katsuki’s eyes boring into your soul, but you accidentally glanced over at him, quickly averting your eyes away.

you finished your lunch quickly, moving to be in between jirou and momo much to their dismay. you really just wanted this day to be over.

going back to class you rested your head against the table, only participating when you actively had to. you just felt so guilty about ignore him, especially after what he did for you this morning.

you realized just how much of your day you spent with him, because when it came time to walk back to the dorm, you felt alone for the first time in months even.

he'd always been by your side, maybe even offering to go out for a small treat with you, you felt the lack of his presence like a withdrawal.

you did everything you could just to avoid him in the halls, basically even running away at one point. everyone knew now of how weird you had been acting, but it wasn't really your fault, you had a master plan to enact!

the next day was just like the last, keeping your head down and turned completely away from katsuki, turning the opposite direction when you'd so much as see his hair, partnering with someone else just so you wouldn't get stuck with him.

going home to eat dinner in your room, ignoring his texts altogether. he even called you at one point.

you shoved a pillow over your head, though it didn't serve to silence the voices screaming at you that it wasn't fair what you were doing to him, that you should man up and just confess already.

but what you didn't expect was for him to take it into his own hands.

wednesday started easily enough, same way as the last two. silly for you to think you could go 3/3, no problems encountered.

you were walking in the halls, choosing the lower floors you knew he wouldn't be in, trotting down to the cafeteria to third wheel momo and jirou.

you were almost there, when you were suddenly pulled into a vacant classroom by the hand. a hand that you'd felt many times against yours, but never with so much intent behind it.

there stood katsuki in front of you, eyes low and waiting as he looked you over.

“[name].” he started, still holding on to your hand. “we need to talk.”

“talk. about what exactly?”

“you know what. you've been ignoring me.” he let go of your hand, crossing them into his chest as he looked you over. “did.. i do something wrong?”

“what? no! it's me!”

“you?”

“yes, it's me. not you. well i mean it is you, but not like that!”

“it's my fault?”

“yes– wait no. yes and no? listen-”

“so, you're ignoring me?” he stepped closer to you, eye contact fierce as you could see the mixed emotions in his eyes. betrayal, even.. insecurity.

“yes. well, i mean i don't– you don't understand!” you tried to reason, but he scoffed.

“save it. i know when im not wanted.”

“katsuki! no-” you grabbed his hand before you even realized it, pulling him closer to you.

“i..” your brain was screaming at you to just admit it now before you would do so accidentally, but..

you couldn't.

“i can't tell you why right now, but it's not what you think.”

his eyes rolled, he took his hand out of yours forcibly. “i don't think i even want to hear that shit. shove it.”

with his hands now shoved in his pocket, he left you alone in that classroom. you walked to the table with wide eyes, never thinking you'd ever miss the feeling of being watched, but admittedly you grew used to it.

you acted that way out of fear of rejection, but did you just get rejected anyways? you hit your head against the lunch table in frustration.

“i'm an idiot.” you muttered, muffled by the material of the tables below. momo patted you on the back.

“i mean, i called it.” jirou said, taking a bite out of her food. “no way this was ever gonna work out.”

“it really wasn't the best idea [name]..” momo finally agreed, still soothing your back. “i mean, there was better ways of going about this. you just ended up pushing him away.”

“i know that now. ugh!”

“it's not too late, there's only what? three days left? you can make it up to him on saturday.”

“it's too late, i'm ruined.”

“right..”

you don't remember the rest of the conversation. you didn't remember even walking up to class, or walking out of it to your dorm. you were in a state of mourning, dreading ever seeing him again. at least for the next two days you wouldn't.

that was the only thought that could let you sleep peacefully, but it made you wake up early regardless.

sulking as you got ready in your hero outfit, walking slowly to the train station with a bag you packed the week prior. mirko texted you the location in tokyo where you'd meet up this week, standing on one of the sides of the train station that seemed pretty busy today.

as the train came to a stop in front of you, you noticed that when the door opened, a familiar face was on the other side.

katsuki.

your eyes widened and looked away from his as you shuffled in, all the seats were full to you hanged onto the bar.

you didn't look at him, though you were jealous at the fact that he got a seat and you didn't. you sulked internally, feeling your knees buckle at not only your exhaustion, but the proximity to him.

there was only a small space next to him now, the kid who'd been next to him getting off at this stop. you eyed it, and he noticed, sighing and gently pulling you towards him.

you were shoved against him, though he said nothing to you.

“kat–”

“it's nothing. don't think about it.”

he barely spared you a glance, though you felt you deserved it now. you sighed, instinctually leaning a head on his shoulder and dozing off. he didn't move you off of him.

you felt him lay his head on yours, the music from his outdated wired headphones leaking into your ear as you took a nap.

the time felt like nothing as you laid there, feeling like only a split second when you felt katsuki shaking you. “yo, [name]. wake up.” he called to you. your eyes fluttered open, squinting at the fluorescent bright lights of the train.

“hm?” you mumbled, moving off of him to get up.

“we're at our station. or mine at least.” he slung his bag around his shoulder.

“oh, this is mine too. coincidence.”

“yeah.”

at the news he grabbed your bag and held it. he waited for you to stretch you legs and neck, before walking beside you. “so, where are ya going?”

“to mirko.”

“duh, i know that. but what is she doing in tokyo of all places?”

“oh, she just tells me places to go and i get there day of. she can't tell me anything, i think it's confidential?”

“mhm. well i'll walk you to your shit, i'm a future number one hero, not an asshole.

“well..”

“then walk by yourself.” he threw your bag at you, walking faster and leaving you a bit behind.

“no, wait!”

you chased after him, and kept by his side. no matter which direction you turned, it was the same way he was going. until you finally just look at the address, and sure enough..

mirko decided to work at best jeanist’s agency.

you felt a mix of emotions wash over you. annoyance, dread, anger.

“what's up?”

“mirko chose to work with best jeanist.”

“what?”

“i know.”

“she only did it to piss me off. ugh!” she kicked a can in the alleyway. they were in eyeshot of the huge agency.

“really, why would she even do that?”

“because of you.” a hand slapped over your mouth.

“me? really?” you could hear the smirk on his face, he waltzed over to you. you were nearing the entrance now, only a staircase keeping you alone with him. you could even see the familiar white ears of your now enemy.

“what?

do you have a crush on me or something?” it was just a joke, you could hear it in his cocky demeanor.

but that didn't stop the hands that shot off your face involuntarily, as you let out a meek. “yes.”

the smile was wiped off of his face now, shock filling his expression. you ran into the doors, standing beside a mirko who greeted you warmly. a hand reaching out to grab you was now left in the air.

it felt like the air had left his lungs too.

because it turns out his feelings were reciprocal after all.

the meeting would start in a small moment, that's what the receptionist told you as you stood next to mirko, who you pulled aside to talk to.

placing your hands on either side of her shoulders, you let her have it.

“mirko, why would you choose to work here of all places?”

“i wanted to play wingman for my favorite partner. sue me.”

“but– this is making everything worse! why couldn't you have just done this in a week! or better yet- never!” you cried, stomping a foot on the floor. “

i didn't want or need any help- any now i'll have to spend tomorrow on some awkward random patrol!”

“it won't be so awkward, remember that me and that best jeanist guy will be there too.”

“like, third-wheeling? thanks a lot. that really helps me feel better.”

“think nothing of it. anyways, this is for the better. i caught wind of you and the girls’ plan. it really sucked. maybe my plan will end up working. you never know.”

“so? and what if it doesn't?”

“then what? you already got rejected didn't you?”

“yes.” a beat passed, your glare only getting stronger. “you're so annoying.”

“you love me though, anyways it's time.” she grabs your hand and guides you to the meeting room. you're sat right next to katsuki, though you do your best not to look at him. it's awkward enough just thinking about how you'd even salvage the relationship you had before, so you try not to.

you realize way too late that you'd managed to zone out through the entire mission. the map displayed virtually might as well had been in another language, the suspects and victims melting into each other, the objectives not clear.

the only notable thing to you was a random, large red circle over a part of the city. but besides that you had no idea what was going on, and based on the look on mirko’s face, listening along was vital.

you brushed it off. not thinking that it was that important, and your instincts hadn't failed you that horrifically yet.

you exited the room besides mirko, who had gotten the two of you a hotel for the two nights you were staying here. a penthouse suite awaited you. you would've been more thankful, if not for her betrayal of you earlier.

the night was swift, faster than you wanted it to be. you found yourself already in your hero outfit at the crack of dawn, trudging alongside mirko.

one word described the streets. busy, full of life. something you weren't really used to.

stealth missions and random outposts were where you were usually sent, nobody seen for ages. so maybe you should have spent a bit more time paying attention to the mission debrief..

“is it always like this?” you questioned to bakugo, who stood right next to you.

“what do you mean?”

“like. busy.”

“oh, yeah it is. always pretty boring though. no smart villain would make an attack with so many people around. at least one hero would be stationed over here.”

“guess you're right.”

“i know i am.”

and he was proven right. the side of town you two were stationed to, seperate from mirko and jeanist, was completely fine.

the only thing you two had done the whole day was save a cat out of a tree, handing it to a little girl who looked up at you with stars in her eyes as you did.

it was afternoon now, and your shift was officially over. you slumped against a wall dramatically, slipping down onto the floor as you breathed a sigh of relief.

katsuki sat next to you, a close proximity between you two not foreign usually, though with the weird back and forth that had been going on thus far, it was nice to know he still considered you to be close.

“‘m fucking hungry.” he finally said, making you laugh. “that's what you're thinking of right now?”

“no. not really.”

“well, then what is it?”

“it's you, [name].”

he takes a breath. “let me talk, okay.” he moved to face you, and at your nod, he continued.

“you confuse me. for years we've gotten close, comfortable. but all of a sudden you avoided me like the plague. i hated it.” his face changes with a mixture of emotions.

“i.. i really fucking like you. and i'm confused as if you feel the same way, you seemed pissed to even be with me right now so. it's just odd. you're acting odd.

because sometimes you're like fucking into me. you even brought me lunch at some point. and now with the ignoring me bullshit? i just don't get it.” he dropped his shoulders, eyes widening slightly.

“so do you like me or not? or should i just leave you the fuck alone?”

“yes and no.”

his face scrunched up in confusion. “so-”

“ugh! just shut up! i like you- okay? is that what you wanted to hear?”

“yes, actually.” he breathed a sigh of relief, a joking hand laid over his chest. “you're confusing.”

“i know.”

“you're close.”

“i mean you sat here-”

“can i kiss you?”

a crack of sunlight dawned through the small corridor, illuminating his eyes, and to him your body. you knew what you'd say for yourself, but you didn't mind this time.

because it's what you truly wanted.

“i thought you'd never ask.”

you felt his lips on yours in an instant, his arms wrapping around your lower back and caging you into him, the buzzing of your phone going unnoticed as he tilted his head against yours.

breathless. the only real word you could use to describe how you felt right now, after having pulled away.

you didn't have a chance to wipe your lip gloss off his face, not before mirko and jeanist stood behind you two, her hands on her hips as a smirk came over her face.

“i see someone was having fun.”

oh right. the mission..

“not like it matters anymore, but we caught the villains. i texted you about it, but when you didn't respond jeanist over here told us to come

quickly.”

she gestured over to a face-palming jeanist, who only said, “it seems you two had more pressing matters to deal with.” katsuki wiped the lip gloss off his lips, wincing at the sticky feeling left on his face.

mirko snorted, while you hung your head in embarrassment, and katsuki looked away from the two of them.

“you know what? stay out as long as you two lovebirds would like. i'll cover for the two of you.”

“what? really?”

she winked at you, and mouthed “wingman”, before turning to leave. “if you're really questioning me, i'll just not let you g-”

katsuki cut her off. “it's cool. thanks, see you losers.” he grabbed your hand, pulling you effortlessly off the ground, a bit into his chest as he led you to start walking off.

“'got somewhere cool to show ya’.” is all he said, before taking you to a restaurant he frequented, or so he told you. he ordered the spiciest plate, and you chose one to your preference. you got a dessert, he skipped out though because of his disdain for them.

“katsuki, i really should tell you something.”

“go ahead.”

it was your turn now to breath, looking up at the ceiling and shutting your eyes as you blurted out, “i was hit by a truth quirk, i avoided you because i was scared to confess to you, and now i feel guilty.”

no sound was heard other than the clacking of utensils and movement in the background, you opened your eyes to see a bakugo who looked as if he was holding in his laugh.

“seriously? that was it?” you could hear the smile in his voice, his hand moved to cover his mouth. “no- i mean that's super crazy [name], very justified response.”

“you're rude.”

“no, no i'm being real.” he could barely hide the casual giggle being let out, “like, it's crazy how hard that must've been. no immediate solutions at all.”

“well, i'm emotionally invested so obviously it was harder for me to think!”

“why didn't you just tell mr. aizawa, he could've canceled it out for you in class.”

“.. i didn't think of that.”

he couldn't help it anymore, he burst out laughing, having to cover his hand with his mouth to keep from cackling.

meanwhile, you crossed your arms and looked straight-faced. “this isn't funny at all by the way.”

he finally calmed down enough, grabbing your hand from across the table and still smirking slightly.

“sorry, sorry. fucking sore ass subject, i got it. let's get out of here already.”

“right, you ruined the atmosphere.”

“sure i did.”

he paid, and for your last stop of the day, he got you ice cream at a park. you just wanted to sit down, legs tired from the amount of walking you did today.

licking at your favorite flavor, he holds up his ice cream to your mouth to try. it was a sour, savory flavor. but you ended up liking it.

the moon was out now, greeting the two of you as you sat side-by-side, illuminating your bodies with the reflected rays of the sun.

it felt late you realized, and you looked down at your phone’s time, sighing in happiness.

it was 12:00, you were free.

“hey katsuki, ask me something.”

“uh.. did you enjoy our day today?”

“no.” a face of annoyance grew on his face, while one of excitement adorned yours. “see? it's over!”

“you can say that.”

“no dumbass! i lied, i really did enjoy today! the quirk is over.” you leaned back raising your hands in glee. “i'm free!”

he laughed, leaning back with you and looking at the constellation’s in the sky.

“well, since you're free now, i'll ask you one final question.”

“hm?” you turned to look at him, his hand rose to grab yours in his. his fingers ran over your knuckles.

“can i be your boyfriend?”

you paused, before a smile erupted over your face once again.

“you could've asked me earlier, and my answer would still be the same,”

so, obviously yes.”

he grinned, pulling you into him.

you sealed your answer with a kiss. soft, endearing, long, and truthful. his hands were tangled in your hair, your hands around the upper part of his back.

as you pulled away, you could only hope this would last forever, that the feeling of honesty and security would be forever eternal as you laid against his chest, pointing out things you'd saw in the stars.

but looking at him once more, you knew it'd be alright.

it was the truth written in the stars, after all.

end.

tags: @k0z3me @darhinadadragon @maddietries @exoticrasin @lavendarstarz @hisonlyobsession @i-the-fluffo @cookielovesbook-akie @frosted-flakes @irenne-stans @lulumi1u @bakunis

[aquasarsstuff]

Endeavors with the General ft. General Lilia Vanrouge x reader

Tag: Long haired Lilia, fluff, he's the wife, he's pretty soft here guys, no gender mentioned

A/N: how tf do you write him? You can't tell me that no one is taking care of that beautiful hair let's forget silver who only uses soap. This is tribute for my hair that's getting cut. For context, I have a wavy hair that's more than 24 inches long. With a small estimation, I like to think that General Lilia and I have almost the same hair length. Thanks for reading my fics guys. I feel like my passion in writing is coming back just needed some validation

Masterlist

---

Being a general, your husband, most often than not, comes home looking unkempt. You don't chastise him for it. In fact it is one of the ways you get to bond with him and his busy schedule. With the way between humans and faes, you rarely got the chance to spend with Lilia as the kingdom's safety often calls for his attention. Most of the time, you are worried of his line of work, but you know his loyalty lies far deeper than just for the kingdom.

Now, you giddily opened the letter from Lilia. It seems that he will be coming home tonight. To prepare for his upcoming arrival, you canceled all your plans and used all the remaining time you have to plan a great dinner and sleep for him.

For hours, the servants around the house watch as you pace back and forth, waiting for Lilia's arrival

"Lilia!"

You jumped at him as soon as he opened the door. He effortlessly caught you as always, not even surprise at this entrance. "I've missed you." You push back the scarf on his head and slide off his mask. You were greeted by by his gentle face as soon as you did. Immediately, your lips that were magnetically attracted to his skin, latch on his cheek. You gave him plenty of kisses, yet purposely missing his twitching lips.

"It's only been 4 days." His hands fell on your waist. After you stopped from showering him with affection, you buried your head on his shoulder and hugged him back.

"4 days and 4 nights without you, to be exact. I was so worried when you didn't answer my first letter."

"I can't just be at your beck and call all the the time." He sighs before continuing, "It won't happen again."

You raised your head and look away from him, pretending that you are pondering of your verdict for him. You hum, "Well since you're here now, I forgive you." He huffed when you poke his nose and patted his head. You can see his cheeks darken after doing so.

"I'm not a child," he grumbled. You laughed at his bashful demeanor. He didn't exactly say that he didn't like it, and if he did, he could've pulled your hand away. Instead, you see the fearsome phantom general of Briar Valley act this cute.

"Yes yes, you are not love. Though there is nothing wrong with me desiring to be affectionate with my husband, no?" You wrapped your arms around his neck and finally gave his lips some love too. You broke the hug between you and gently took his hand, to dragged him to the dining room. As soon as you opened the room, he sees the array of servants carrying dishes. Even if the food were covered, his heightened senses immediately knew most what it was. He pulled one of the chairs for you to sit on before taking a seat for himself.

As the dishes were laid on the table, you turned towards Lilia. You noticed that he was just staring as the dishes were being served.

"Is it not to your liking?" you asked him, worried that there is something wrong.

"It's different back in the camp," he lied.

"You should eat a lot then!"

He winced as he realized that his excuse backfired on him. Truth to be told, he had a feast back in the princess castle, because someone insisted on keeping him stuffed for the journey back to you. Though seeing your enthusiastic demeanor, he could only groan internally as he is more apprehensive of seeing you sad than his stomach bursting.

Throughout the whole dinner, you kept rambling about what happened to you while he was away. Seeing how distracted you were, he opted to hand some of his portions from his plate to yours.

---

That was one of the ways you can bond with him: eating together. Another was through self-care.

You gently pulled the hair tie out of his locks, letting it flow freely. "Now what would I find here again?" You gently separated the hair strands and found a small twig stuck in Lilia's hair. A common find.

"You didn't have to do this. I've already dealt with this after I took a bath," he sighed when you shook your head.

"Tell it to this twig then." You enjoy his long locks too much to agree his earlier proposal. "You can't see your whole head, Lilia. Just let me do my work, hm?"

You softly brush his hair, admiring how the strands transition from black to red. "Besides, you have to thank me for keeping it this beautiful."

"It's no different than before," he retorts back.

You pouted, unable to find a counterattack. It was true that he was naturally gifted with his tresses. Even before your marriage, his hair albeit a little tangle at times, was still silky smooth to the touch. You speak from experience.

"What do you even do to have something like this? Do you have some secret routine you're not telling me?"

"Water and soap washes away dirt easily."

"That is true, but I was talking about your hair."

"And?"

"Wait what?"

Now in the present, we understand why Silver uses soap as his shampoo.

[twoflowers]

Stiff Shoulders, Weak Knees: Sanji x Reader

Read on AO3

Description: Sanji has been hard at work in the kitchen; you decide his stiff shoulders need a bit of attention. Predictably, Sanji is a mess. You didn't realize it would be quite this easy to get Black Leg Sanji on his knees. (SFW, suggestive)

Tags: Massage, nosebleeds (of course), light fdom, female reader, no use of Y/N, no description of reader, AND: (Sanji's constant need for validation of his cooking skills, Sanji's eternal need to be of use to the people around him, and Sanji's fantasy of being a fairytale knight kissing the hand of a beautiful queen he has pledged undying loyalty to. This man is a dork, people!)

Word count: 1276. Something short and sweet while I work on a longer fic based on a prompt by @mere-mortifer

Give this video a thumbs up if this man should actually get a massage in part 2!

Stiff Shoulders, Weak Knees

Sanji startles when you put a hand on his shoulder, not because he didn't sense you behind him (he could never fail to notice you entering a room, has been feeling pleasant, anticipatory prickling on his scalp and the back of his neck since you entered the kitchen), but because you've never touched him like this before. An occasional brush of arms, sure. A slightly more frequent brush of fingers, absolutely. He only seems to lose his grip on dishes when he's handing them to you, which is by complete coincidence. 

But your hand is firmly on his shoulder, fingers settling above his collarbone even when he turns to look at you.

“May I make anything for you?” He asks automatically. He carefully avoids looking at your hand in case you're touching him by accident - best not to remind you.

You smile fondly. “After tonight's dinner, I don't think I could eat anything else if I tried. It was excellent.”

Sanji can already feel his knees weakening. Excellent: now there's a good word, a perfect word, that he'll hold onto for later. 

“I'm so glad you think so. I thought of you especially while making it.”

“You say that to all the ladies.”

“It's true.”

Your hand is still on his shoulder. You tighten it a bit, perhaps appreciatively, perhaps condescendingly. He isn't sure which option he likes best.

“I brought my plates back down.” You gently set them in the sink with your other hand, and Sanji immediately picks up his sponge again. He doesn't know when he dropped it. 

“I'll get them done right away,” he stutters. “You're sure you don't want anything? A nightcap? Some tea? - I have a wonderful hibiscus from our last time on shore that would pair nicely with-”

“Sanji…” The quirk of your lip makes it certain: you are condescending him. A small shudder racks his shoulders.

“Mm?” His eyes flicker back and forth from you to the dishes. 

“You're working too hard,” you squeeze sharply at his shoulder, and he jumps at the pain. He's biting his lip when he finally makes eye contact, cheeks already starting to flush.

“See? Your muscles are so stiff.” You move behind Sanji, slipping your other hand up his back and to his opposite shoulder. You dig your thumbs into the muscles bracketing his spine, and he jerks forward toward the sink as if pulled by an invisible force. “Does that hurt?”

“You could never hurt me,” he breathes. 

“Oh?” You tighten your grip, thumbs poking deeply into his stiff back and stroking upwards to his neck. Hard, firm pressure. 

Sanji’s hands reach out to grip the edge of the sink. The sponge falls forgotten into soapy water. His knuckles are white, arms trembling. “Nothing… you do to me could ever hurt me.” His voice is wavering in a delicious way. “Even if it’s painful.”

You hum thoughtfully, dipping one of your thumbs under the collar of his shirt. Skin swipes against skin, and Sanji lets out a whine. 

“We can’t have our cook in anything less than peak condition, can we?” You mumble, still thumbing his soft skin. 

Sanji lets out something halfway between a gasp of pleasure and a laugh of disbelief, hands clenching still tighter.

“We need you healthy,” your hands move down his back, resting just under his shoulder blades. “I need your cooking.”

Somehow, that’s what breaks him. He arches forward with a groan, shoulders shaking.

“Let me help you relax,” you offer. “How about a massage?”

One of Sanji’s hands shoots from the sink to under his nose. He audibly swallows; blood dribbles down his fingers as he pulls his hand away. He nods weakly.

“What was that?” You can’t help but prod, not when he’s this vulnerable. Sometimes you feel like Sanji is a big bruise that you can’t help but poke at.

He nods again. Your hands instantly find his waist, thumbs stroking circles through his suit jacket.

“Use your words.”

“Please. Anything.”

“Such good manners,” you coo. You slip your hands away from Sanji, savoring the way his body freezes in anticipation. You take a lace handkerchief from the counter and gently cup his chin, turning his face towards you.

He looks so small, curling forward like he can’t trust his knees to hold him upright. His face is an impressive shade of red, almost as dark as the blood dripping over his plush, bitten lips. His eyes, surprisingly, aren’t as gleaming and heart-shaped as they usually are around you. 

You can’t help but grin at having finally caught him so off-guard. His eyes become wide, almost frantic, as you swipe a thumb over his chin. There you are. Finally, finally, I’ve reached underneath.

You hold his face more firmly and bring the towel up to clean him, but he flinches. Not away from you- you have a feeling he couldn’t move away if he tried.

“I don’t want to stain it,” he all but begs. “It was… I was planning on using it for plating your evening tea.”

“I told you I’m not hungry.” It’s blatant, obvious teasing, but Sanji’s eyes droop miserably nonetheless. 

“Here we go…” You wipe the handkerchief under his nose. Blood saturates lace, and Sanji’s eyes flutter shut in defeat. 

When you’re done, you pull away and fold the cloth carefully. Sanji watches in equal parts confusion, misery, and awe. When you tuck it into your pocket, Sanji gasps, another trickle of blood falling onto his lips.

“I just finished cleaning you up,” you scold. 

Sanji’s lip quivers from the humiliation, but you quickly lean forward and place your lips under his nose. It’s barely a kiss. You pull away shortly after, tongue darting out to taste his still-warm blood. 

Sanji drops to his knees so hard you hear bone hit wood. His shaking hands grasp one of yours, pulling it to his lips: no contact, just puffs of hot, frantic breath. One knee up, and he’d look like a soldier being knighted by his queen. 

“May I?” He’s trembling. He almost looks like he’s salivating. Your hand is small in his, but his are so much softer, skin scrubbed down from washing dishes, still red-tinged from the sink’s hot water.

You nod, and he gasps into the first kiss. His lips linger on the back of your hand, wet and bloody. You flip it over, and he moans, kissing your palm and trailing up your inner arm. The entire time, his eyes are on yours, searching for the faintest hint of displeasure. 

“Sanji?”

He immediately pulls away, breathing hard, still tentatively holding your hand. 

“Yes?” He looks ready for any command. Blood is smeared across his face and up your arm. You didn’t realize it would be quite so easy to get Black Leg Sanji on his knees, but you should have expected as much.

“The goal was to make you more comfortable. You look like you’re hurting your knees.”

Sanji shakes his head with enough ferocity that his bangs are knocked out of place, almost covering his other eye. “I could never complain about being allowed this.” 

He looks at your arm with some panic, then begins to wipe the blood away with his own shirtsleeve. 

“Sanji. Stand up.”

He obeys immediately.

“We are going to go to my quarters,” you say. 

He nods along dumbly. 

“And you are going to lie on my bed.”

His face flushes a brilliant red.

“And I’m going to give you an incredible massage.”

He swallows, swaying forward on his feet. You take the cue to grab him by his tie and lead him down the hallway, dishes long forgotten.

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝑳𝒊𝒎𝒃𝒐

╰┈➤ ❝ lee know x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni | kinktober '24: voice kink

tags : pwp (without plot), voice kink, established relationship, birthday shenanigans, kitchen setting (but no food involved in what actually… goes on), teasing, lee know being a little shit, as in he literally does not let you live down your voice kink, heavy petting, fingering, dirty talk (a lot), praise, use of pet names "honey" "baby". lmk if i missed any tags!

wc : 1.6k

an : ur girl finally has electricity so im MAKING IT BEFORE THE NIGHT ENDS HERE just a little something before the end of the day bc i wouldn't have wanted to miss lee know's birthday for the world <3

taglist : @love-and-deepstrays

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST / KO-FI JAR / COMMISSIONS

He would use his birthday privileges to the fullest, and you'd realize, sometimes the voice of an angel did not belong to an angel. Not that you were complaining.

"Mhm, just like that. That's it, baby, keep going…"

His voice rang through, nearly snaking all over your body, goosebumps raising on the surfact of your skin. It was smooth, and delicate, and—

And sweet.

That was how you would describe it.

His voice was like honey in your ears as he leaned against the counter beside you, looking over your shoulder the tiniest bit just to see what you were doing. If you were actually following his instructions, if the dish was turning out right… The two of you had crowded over the pot in front of you as you stirred, a recipe you'd tried out from him, under his guidance.

Apparently, you'd been successful so far.

Yet it wasn't the praise that had you drawing a breath, but the way that he said it.

"Mmm… It smells good, don't you think, honey?"

The only thought in your head was that it was simply unfair for him to call you by the name, when you thought such a word could only be used to describe him.

Glancing over at him, you could see his eyes widen with pleasant anticipation. He wasn't focusing on your reaction, that much you were sure of. And part of you felt grateful for it.

It had been like this for most of the day. True, you had always had a special sort of adoration for his voice, and yet, today of all days, it was sincerely doing a number on you.

You couldn't have known if it was because it was his birthday, or something else entirely.

He had one request for his birthday this year: nothing fancy, nothing extreme, just… time spent with you. It had been busy for him and the boys, and today was one day he was allowed to kick back and relax without having to worry about his obligations for a moment—you knew that. So you'd respected his wish, and the two of you had agreed for there to be no surprises, none of the fancy things, and you'd learn to cook a new dish together for lunch.

It was going well.

It should have been… aside from the fact that, on your end, you felt as if your body had been lit on fire.

Each time he spoke, each time he would give you an instruction, or a little bit of praise… It felt like being doused in the smoothness of it; slick, and heavy, and all-consuming. Your body felt wrapped around in his voice in all its entirety. Every word felt like a caress, and your mind would wander.

The things he could make you do with that voice… the things he could make you feel.

With how your knees would feel weak, it was purely a wonder how you'd managed to get through this much of the day at all.

"Sweetheart? Hiiii? Helloooo?"

Eyes wide, you jumped back with a start, seeing his fingers snapping in front of you. Your head turned to look at him in surprise, and there was a cute little frown of concern on his face—not that it would make you feel any less sheepish.

"Spacing out?" he leaned in to peer at you, and there was a light tone to his voice this time that almost lead you to believe he was teasing. "I was saying, we can put the foil over it now and let it slow cook."

"Oh, um… right… yeah…"

Gaze shifting, you nearly stumbled as you move to get the foil, and you could practically feel his amused stare burning holes into the back of his head.

You should have known.

There was very little you could do to throw him off, even if you truly tried.

Before you could do anything else, he reached over to turn the stove off, and promptly moved to corner you against the counter. The roll of foil you'd been holding dropped to the floor, and you looked at him, eyes wide.

"Baby," he drawled, his voice laced with pure, unobstructed mirth. "What's gotten into you?"

Your back was tightly pressed against the counter. His arms were on either side of you.

You were caged.

And, well, you could try, if you wanted to.

You could try to lie.

But that was it: try. And that trial would be unsuccessful. Every fiber in your body was telling you that it would be.

You wondered if there had ever been anyone who was successful with it when it came to him.

"M-Minho…" you breathe out his name, swallowing thickly.

"Yes, baby?"

He was unfair.

His breath ghosted over your skin as he leaned in closer, closer, just so you could hear him right next to your ear.

He knew.

"M-Minh—"

"You're soooooo obvious, you know."

When he spoke again, his voice dropped an octave lower, and you could practically hear the grin in his voice. Your only response was a helpless squeak. Your eyes shut closed. There was absolutely no way you'd be escaping this.

He continued to speak.

"I can't believe you're getting turned on by this… It's my voice, right, honey?" he laughed softly. "Ahh… what've you been thinking about?"

Your cheeks heated up, and shook your head. "Th-that's… I'm not going to say it!"

"No?"

"No!"

A lick at your earlobe, and he did it again—lower. "Are you sure, baby? It's my birthday, you know… I thought I get to do what I want?"

An involuntary shiver shot up through your spine, and you couldn't help it anymore. The soft moan that left your lips was barely there, but it was there.

And he heard it.

"Tsk, tsk. Guess I'll have to speak your thoughts for you, then."

You truly, truly wouldn't have needed to look at him to see his eyes crinkled up in amusement, the corner of his lips turned up into a slight smirk.

"How about…"

His lips moved to your neck, placing a trail of kisses down to your collarbone.

"My hands all over you… grazing over your skin, aaalll the places I know you love…" As if intending to follow through with his words, his hands snaked under your shirt—his shirt—to trail over your body.

The whimper you let out earned you a hum of satisfaction.

He continued.

"No? Not enough?" he smiled. "Hmm, then… Were you also thinking about…" His hands moved lower, lower. Moving with his words, they found the waistband of your panties and slowly began to pull them down. "This, maybe? My fingers teasing your pretty little pussy?"

Your breathing became shallow.

Your eyes glazed over as you met his gaze, and he had the audacity to chuckle.

The truth was that he was barely touching you. Even as the pads of his fingers traced every outline of your body, even if they squeezed at your thighs, even as they moved tantalizingly closer to where you needed them the most—

That wasn't it.

He knew that.

It was why he stood grinning at you, teasing you with his touches, and… speaking.

"Ohh… Or, maybe that's not it. Maybe my baby was thinking about being fucked by me." His voice took on a melifluous tone, low, and sweet, and perfect, and it was enough to coax a moan from your body. "Yeah? Having me bend you over the counter, slide my cock into that perfect pussy of yours… Is that it?"

He leaned in again, this time focusing his attention to your other ear, as he brought his voice to a whisper.

"And that's not all I'd do. 'Cause I'd have my lips pressed against your ear just like this, giving you slooww, teasing thrusts while I tell you how much I need you…"

Without much of a warning, his fingers slid into your hole, the sensation of being filled combining with the pure sense of euphoria his voice was drenching you in, and you moaned. Louder this time, with nothing to hold you back—your head threw back in pleasure, and his laugh… his fucking laugh.

You couldn't even begin to understand how worked up he had gotten you by simply hearing him speak, and as he lifted your legs onto the counter to spread you more clearly for him, there was little in you to refuse.

Instead, you caved.

"Y-yes!" you cried out, hips bucking into his hand. "Y-you and your goddamn voice… s'not fair, Minho!"

He grinned. "It's not fair? But you look so pretty like this, honey. It makes me so happy I can reduce you to… this… with just… my… voice…"

As he spoke, he once again lowered into a breathy whisper, air hitting the shell of your ear as he thrust—unfairly—in time with his words.

"Hnn— M-Minho-!"

"Mhm, just like that. That's it, baby, keep going…"

The same words.

The same exact words.

They rang clear in your head, the added sultriness to the way he said it now only making you keen with pleasure.

"Ah— I-I'm…! I'm—"

"Close, baby? Yeah? Wanna cum?"

Sweet.

That was how you could describe it.

Like honey to your ears, smooth, and alluring, and—

And perfect.

With a cry of his name, your hips stuttered, orgasm crashing through your body like waves on a shore.

All the while, he whispered soothing, sweet, sweet nothings into your ear, before he pulled out his fingers to suck them clean.

"Mmm…" He grinned at you. "Like icing on a cake."

You were in his arms in barely a minute, squealing as he lifted you up from the counter:

"Not done yet, honey. I gotta claim my birthday present properly."

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[livelaughlou]

Post 8x5 fic because Lou said so. (Not really, but kind of.) This got a little hornier than I'm sure we would have gotten, but you know, when in Rome. Also, isn't it great how the season ended with this ep? What an awfully short season. Oh well.

"No."

Tommy can't see him from where he's navigating them back to Evan's place, but he just knows he's pouting. After nearly six months, his Evan senses are always tingling.

"Oh come on," Evan whines. "Just pull over into an overlook or something. Bet I can get you off in no time."

Tommy snorts a laugh. "I'm sorry, is that supposed to make me want to do it? I thought you had a better sense of my abilities than that, Boil Boy."

Evan considers this and Tommy can see his grin out of his peripheral vision. He should look ridiculous with those damn things on his face, but he looks like an adorable brat, which is as per usual these days.

"Okay, that didn't come out right."

"No one's coming any time soon," Tommy says, turning on his signal to change lanes.

Evan snickers. "Fine, fine. No public sex for us. I get it. Can I get you out of that suit and get your dick in my mouth when we get to my place?"

Tommy reaches over and pinches his thigh, gratified when Evan jumps a little.

"Hey! Rude."

"Why are you so horny all of a sudden?"

"All of a sudden? I thought you knew me by now, Tommy."

Tommy laughs again. "Okay, okay."

"Besides," Evan says, and if Tommy isn't mistaken, his voice sounds...hesitant? "I just want to thank you. You know, for driving three hours from home to go to a dead outlaw's funeral."

Tommy feels himself melt. "You don't have to thank me. I enjoyed it."

"You did?" Evan sounds surprised.

"Seeing you in your element all cute and earnest? Getting to spend time with you? I'll do it any time."

Evan runs a hand through the hair on the back of Tommy's head, affectionate and warm. He loves it when Evan does that.

"How can you possibly think I'm cute right now?" Evan wonders and this is not the first time he's asked.

"I always think you're cute. Even when you're gross."

Evan's laugh is infectious and Tommy laughs with him. He leans forward in his seat and smacks a kiss to Tommy's cheek. "I like you, Tommy Kinard."

"I like you too, Evan Buckley," Tommy says. "Chinese on the way home?"

"Sounds good," Evan confirms. "Wanna make out on the couch and watch a movie? Then I can get your dick in my mouth?"

Tommy grins because watching a movie always turns into something else. "You're on."

tag list:

@desert--moonchild @sazzynatural, @multishippinghussy, @mmso-notlikethat, @esendoran

@sunnywithachanceofbi, @sleepywinchesters, @buck-up-buckley, @manifestingchaoticvibes, @corvid-cryptidd

@lbltpsmspenguin, @theotherbuckley, @cliophilyra, @actuallyitsellie, @thecarrott

@talktonytome, @misstommykinard, @the-omniscient-narrator, @bobbinsnash, @a-mel0n

@hyperfocusthusly, @mayorjack, @marvelousbuckley, @swagmaster9k

@byunbuckjunmy, @rutathenurse, @sluttytommykinard, @bidisasterevankinard

[my-debauchery]

Stop.

idol!jisung × afab!reader

g`smut

cw`explicit content, kissing(cheek), cockwarming, begging, edging?, mention of tears, teasing

A/N: not really sure about this, but i hope you like it. as always, constructive criticism is more than welcome. if you see mistakes in cw tagging, please, let me know.

all you can hear is humming of a humidifier, movie playing and jisung's breathing. both of you are naked, half laying against the headboard. you are on top of him. your back against his front. you can feel his rapid heartbeat both on your back and from his cock inside you.

it all started because you decide it'll be fun to tease jisung during dinner. saying he wouldn't be able to resist you and sit through the movie, while you cockwarm him. how wrong you were.

it's you who cannot sit still. you've been fidgeting and squirming around for an hour and there is still 45 minutes left.

you tried to bring jisung's hands forward to your breast's, but he just asked you to not distract him and huged you around the stomach.

you tried to subtly move up and down, pretending to get comfortable. but jisung just tightened his grip on you 'stop moving around, you are distracting me'

you tried to tighten your pussy, hoping he will finally fold. but it just made you acutely aware of how hard his cock become and how dip he's in now. pressing deliciously in all the right places.

'you seem to be quiet hard, do you want me to do something about it?' you say, as you turn your head to the side, trying to look at him 'no. but, please, stop moving around. i'm trying to watch the movie' he smiles and kisses your temple.

you are on edge. it seems you've never been this horny. you want to jump his bones now. you don't care who wins.

you decide to beg and whine for him, knowing it always gets to him 'jisuuuung, please. you win, okay? i am insane for you. can you finally fuck me? pleeease' you are scratching on hiss hands, like a cat in heat.

he chuckles and catches your hands in his grip 'really? are you that desperate? can't wait for 30 more minutes? but, baby, you were so confident, am i that irresistible? weren't you supposed to be the one in control of their desire?'

you flush and try to look away. seeing and hearing jisung be this cocky and slightly condescending to you, made you feel even more hot and wet when you were already 'please, stop teasing. you know i want you an unnormal amount. i was just joking before'

'were you? aren't i still young and quick to cum?' you whine like a kicked puppy 'please, i'm sorry'

jisung humms and traps your arms in a even tighter hug 'i don't know, love. i'm tired after practice and have an earlier call tomorrow for the comeback shoot. let's go to sleep' he says nonchalantly and makes a move to pull out.

'no! stop!' you try to move down, but his hold is to strong.

suddenly jisung pushes your legs over his to the sides, bends his legs and plants his feet firmly on the bed. jisung's action make his cock slip in deeper, making it kiss your cervix.

'oh, i'll stop. we wouldn't want to see you cry, right?' he kisses you cheek and starts slumming his hips upwards.

in the morning, during the shoot, mark asks him 'jisung-a, did you play games all night again? did you sleep at all? why were you late?' haechan sits down next to him 'you should pay attention to your girlfriend instead. she might not like to date a man-child'

he just shrugs 'we were watching movies, so i overslept. sorry for being late' jaemin ruffles his hair on the way out 'it's okay, kid. try not to be late next time, okay?' jisung nods and puts on his beanie. they all shuffle out to the set and jisung smiles to himself, remembering your pretty tears.

he guesses there is no need for others to know, just how hard it is for him to stop playing with you.

[yoonmetogether]

Hook, Line & Stinker

A Min Yoongi one-shot pairing: workaholic!dom!yoongi x needy!brat!fem reader feat. hoseok genre: est. relationship, pwp rating: M for mature and explicit content. No one under 18 should interact summary: you love your boyfriend, but it really sucks when he holes himself up in his studio for days at a time, leaving you at home alone. when you visit him to make sure he's still alive and well, you have no intention of dragging him away from his work. but is there anything wrong with a little distraction in the form of lingerie? warnings: jealousy, angst, (blonde snapback) yoongi is moody, reader feels neglected and pushes his buttons, arguments, there's no infidelity but reader pretends she takes an offer on a date w/ hobi and yoongi worries bc of insecurities and then brings up his ex, under the desk bj, exhibitionism kink, unprotected sex (if he doesn't wrap it, don't let him tap it!), rough make-up sex, oral (m. and f. receiving), spanking, spitting, light choking, multiple orgasms, i think this is pretty filthy, reader gets upset but yoongi takes care of her, they kiss & make-up & talk about boundaries, they love each other, fluff ending, this is my first time posting something like this so please let me know if i missed any tags!!! wc: 10.8k 🤪 also shoutout to my beta reader @yoonglesyeobo who gave me feedback in bullet-points for this, honestly the best!!!

You punch in the code to Yoongi’s studio (which just so happens to be your birthday), slightly irked that you have to come all this way because your boyfriend wants to continue to be a workaholic after you’ve lectured him countless times about the importance of taking a break. So you arrive with food and a cute lil outfit you think will help distract him.

Upon entering, you see he is deeply entranced by his screen and you can hear the echoes of music blasting through his headphones. You quietly maneuver inside and set the bag of takeout on the coffee table before tiptoeing up behind his chair and slowly reaching up to his shoulders. You roughly grab them and laugh at the way he jumps and tears off his headphones.

“Jesus Christ!” he exclaims as he turns to see who just scared the shit out of him. 

“Deng! Guess again,” you say with a grin, leaning down to kiss him on the head. When you go to poke his nose, he bats your hand away and mumbles.

“You could’ve given me a heart attack.”

“Well, that’s one way to get you out of the studio. Give you a ride home in an ambulance. I never thought of that,” you sneer playfully, giggling when he glares at you. You slide back to the food on the table. 

“Come eat, Min PD.” 

“I’m almost done,” he grumbles and turns to face his desk. You roll your eyes. 

“No, sir. You need to eat or you’re gonna make yourself sick, and guess who has to take care of you,” you scold as you tug on the back of his chair to twist him around and he looks up at you with a whine. You would never want him to get sick, but if he does, you'd love to baby him, and not just because you'd find it amusing how he'd act like he didn't like it as he has many times before. You've learned over the course of your relationship that he can take care of himself when he's sick, but now that you live together, he's been known to ham up his symptoms so you'll dote on him hand and foot. And he does just the same for you, even goes out of his way sometimes. One time he called off work for an entire week when you got the flu and wouldn't hear any of your arguments that you were fine alone.

“I will! I just need a couple minutes.” 

You click your tongue. “A couple minutes to you is like eight hours. I swear, you go through a time warp every time you come in here. You know it's been three days since I last saw you? Let’s go.”

You grab onto his arm and tug him, but he goes slack in his chair and makes protesting noises as you drag him towards the coffee table, laughing when he stretches his other arm at his desk like he’s being pulled away from a long-lost friend. 

“You are such a drama queen,” you sigh as you let go of his arm.

“I was almost done,” he pouts, crossing his arms. You roll your eyes as you take out the food you brought.

“Sure, sure. Just eat real quick and you can finish in 'a couple minutes,’” you say sarcastically with air quotes, and he scowls, nonetheless leans forward to reluctantly grab the box of food you hand him. 

You walk around the edge of the table and stop in front of him. You smile as he begins to eat his noodles, so you grab his chin.

“Good boy,” you quip, and lean down to press a kiss to the corner of his lips, catching him off guard. 

He coughs a bit as he processes what you said and watches you with wide eyes as you sit down in his lap. You laugh at his expression as you open your container of food and grab a pair of chopsticks. You both sit in silence and eat, glancing at him every now and as he chews with his head down, a line drawn between his brows that looks like he’s trying to figure out something. 

“How’s your food?” you ask before taking a sip from your bottle of water.

“Good,” he grumbles without looking at you. “Thanks.” 

You shift to get more comfortable in his lap and he starts to chew faster.

After he nudges you off his lap and helps you clean up, he turns around to scoot his chair back to his desk.

“Thanks for coming by and all, but I think you should leave."

You scoff, mildly hurt. “Why?”

“Because I know what you’re trying to do.”

You realize what he means and the brat in you makes an appearance, so you throw your hair haughtily over your shoulder and slyly walk up to his chair, sliding a hand down his arm.

“And what is that exactly?”

“You’re trying to distract me, but it’s not working,” he says through curled lips, staring at his screen.

“No?” you smirk. You squat and fold your elbows on the arms of his chair, propping your chin up on your wrist. “How am I being distracting? All I did was bring you food.” 

He turns his head to glare at you, but his Adam's apple bobs when he looks down at your position, how your legs are spread to reveal the meat of your thighs, then at how you smile at him in a pseudo-innocent way. 

“Exhibit A, B and C,” he says, gesturing to your legs, tits, and face.

You grin. “What? I’m just looking at you.” Your voice however drips in seduction. 

He shakes his head and looks back at his screen, trying to stay strong. 

“Precisely.”

Your tongue pokes into your cheek in amusement and a devilish lightbulb flashes in your mind. 

“How is me looking at you so distracting?” you ask, settling on your knees before gliding a hand over his leg. “Wouldn’t it be something more like this?” 

His mouth pulls into a thin line as he struggles to keep his eyes focused up. You slowly push at his leg to move him towards you so you can rise in between his knees, smiling at the way he refuses to look at you. You begin to slide your hands up his thigh, licking your lips as you head for his crotch, but he catches your wrist.

“Don’t,” he commands, now looking down at you with a serious expression.

Undeterred, you push your bottom lip out in the brattiest pout, and the severe clench in his jaw shows how hard he's fighting to keep his guard up. 

“You’re just so stressed, and I want to help you… relax.” 

He closes his eyes and swallows, and you just know he's trying to keep his imagination away from thoughts not suited for work.

“I appreciate that, baby, but I’m almost done here and when I am, I’m all yours, okay?” He lets go of your wrist to smooth out your pout with his thumb. 

You believe him, but still, you want to bother him after he hasn't paid attention to you in a few days.

“Fine,” you sigh and start to stand up. “Well, I guess I can’t ask you for your advice on what I bought. If I want to return it, today is my last day, so it’s now or never.” 

You only take one step away when his hand grabs your wrist. You smile. Hook, line, and stinker. 

You look back in faux confusion. He licks his lips and swallows, hesitant yet desperate to find out what you’re talking about.

“What do you need my advice on?”

Without hesitation, your hands fly to the hem of your shirt. “Oh, just this.” 

He sucks in a sharp breath as you tear off your shirt to reveal a lavender corset bra. The lace is embroidered with delicate floral designs to reveal the lower half of your breast, just barely covering your nipples, and parts of your ribcage below. His throat goes dry. 

“It has a matching thong too. Wanna see?” Your question is rhetorical because you give him no time to breathe as you unbutton your shorts. You bend over to shimmy them down your legs, making a show of wiggling so your breasts move side to side. 

You kick your shorts to the side and stand straight, carding your hair out of your face before placing your hands on your hips and standing confidently in front of him. 

“So, what do you think?” you ask, cocking your head to the side as his wide eyes go up and down your form. 

“It’s pretty,” he swallows, biting his lip to ignore the twitch in his boxers. 

“Oh, see how it looks from behind.” You twirl around and adjust the clips of the corset then the hem of your thong, sticking your ass out in the process. “Isn’t it cute?” Yoongi is screwed. 

You look at him from over your shoulder. “Do you like it?” 

He nods, barely hearing you as his eyes train on the way the string of the thong disappears between your cheeks. You smirk when his tongue pokes out just over his teeth.

“The lace is really soft too. Here, feel,” you say, spinning back around and walking up to him, rubbing your fingers over the lace below your breast. 

He swallows, wanting so bad to reach out and touch, but knowing if he does, it’s over for him, he’ll lose. But shit, you look good as fuck, and he can’t help but give in. 

You grin as he reaches his hand out to feel the lace and he hums in approval.

“It’s nice,” he says, voice deep and starting to give away his desire.

“It’s even better here,” you say, gripping his wrist to plant his hand on your breast and he purrs as he lets his fingers squeeze your flesh. 

You let him massage for a second or two and judging by his face he looks closer to giving into your distraction, but you'll wait.

“Okay, since you like it, I won’t return it,” you say, dropping his hand and turning to grab your shorts off the ground. “Thanks! I’ll let you get back to work.” 

You bend over again to pick up your shirt, your ass right in his line of sight and he can’t deny the rock-hard bulge in his jeans. 

“I’ll see you when you get home,” you say as you walk over to the table but his low voice rumbles through the sound-proof studio.

“Get your ass back here,” his words shoot straight to your core, the string of your thong growing wet. 

“I thought you said you have to work,” you say innocently. 

“Right now,” he growls, and you move towards him like a magnet. 

Once again next to his chair, he slides his fingers underneath the lavender straps stretching over your hips to cup your exposed ass. Your skin flares hot when he squeezes.

“I don’t want to distract you.”

His dark eyes filled with lust shoot up to you and flicker with anger.

“It’s a little fuckin’ late for that, doll,” he grits. “You made a problem and now you’re going to fix it.” He moves his other hand to palm his bulge. Your eyes widen at the motion, and you cross your legs because, shit, you want to sit on that so bad.

“And then you’re going to leave and let me finish what you interrupted and wait for me to come home.” 

“Yeah? Then what?”

His lips curl in what could be a growl, and he smacks your ass, pushing you to stand between his legs. 

“Then I’m going to punish you for getting me hard at work.”

You moan as his hand moves to your front and feels over the lace material that covers your pussy. You shudder when his fingers slip between your thighs, battling with the string of your thong to rake over your clit and slit, groaning at how wet you already are. 

“Fuck, you really get this turned on just from teasing me?”

You whimper in response as he drags his finger over your bud before removing his hand. 

“We need to do something about that,” he says, sticking his fingers in his mouth to suck your arousal from them. Your legs shake involuntarily. “You can’t keep pissing me off so you can get your way.”

You breathe out a moan as he pops his wet fingers into view and licks over them slowly with his tongue flicking in the v-shape while looking right at you before dropping them to his lap. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you imagine him doing that right on your clit.

“I keep saying, you make it too easy.” 

He bares his teeth before gripping your sides and pulling you down to his lap, pushing your hips to roll on his groin.

“Or maybe you just need to have the brat fucked out of you,” he growls into your ear before biting the skin below it. Before you can do anything, he pushes at your waist and tells you to get on your knees on the ground, raking his hair back in frustration. 

You hesitate as you stare at his crotch, wanting to reach for it but remembering all the times he's tied you up for touching him without permission.

“Get to work,” he says, letting his wrists dangle casually from the arms of the chair, bracelets clacking.

You greedily sit up on your knees as your fingers dig around under his sweater for his belt. You quiver at the sound of his buckle coming loose and bite your lip when you see the bulge straining in his underwear after you undo his jeans. Just as you begin to reach into his boxers, someone knocks at his door.

You both react in panic.

“Hyung, can I come in? I need to show you something,” the sound of Hoseok’s voice echoes from the other side of the door.

“Shit!” he breathes, pushing your hands away from his belt and rolling in his chair over to where you left your clothes on the floor. However, you have no intention of moving.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” He asks exasperatedly in a hushed tone when he finds you sliding back under his desk on your hands and knees.

“Yah, Yoongi hyung!”

Yoongi’s head whips between you and the door, blood pressure spiking. You put your hand out for the clothes he’s holding.

“It’s too late, I’ll just hide under here. He won’t see me.”

Yoongi’s jaw moves in annoyance, but he has no time to argue with you. So, he scoots his chair all the way under his desk to shield you with his widespread legs, throwing your clothes in your face. It works because you can barely see out beyond his lap, thanks to his wide and thick thighs, but this is no good news for Yoongi because another evil and salacious idea forms in your mind.

“It’s unlocked!” Yoongi calls and braces himself, praying that Hoseok cannot see under his desk.

As the door opens, Yoongi quickly busies himself at his computer, pretending that he doesn’t have his half-naked girlfriend underneath his desk and face level with his crotch. 

“Sorry to bother you, I just wanted to ask your advice on something.”

Yoongi’s brow ticks. Why is everyone asking for his advice today? 

“It’s fine, Hob-a, what’s up?” He asks, trying to play it cool. 

But as Hoseok stands next to him at his desk, he feels hands slide onto his lap and he grips the edge of the table, hoping that you're only just teasing him. But that hope doesn’t last very long.

Hoseok wants to know what he thinks about one of his tracks, that there’s something off about it but he can’t figure out what. Hoseok hands Yoongi his flash drive and he plugs it into his PC, and as he clicks around for the file your fingers inch towards his unopened jeans.

As Hoseok points at the screen about different parts of the track he’s concerned about, Yoongi grinds his teeth, urging himself to stay focused even when you begin to palm at his clothed dick. He thinks about kicking you, but all thoughts get cut off when you reach in through the hole in his boxers and pull his cock out. Fuck, he's needy for you, even in the most unorthodox way. He jerks when your hand wraps around his length, the other diving back in to squeeze his balls but he plays it off like he’s adjusting in his seat, masking his moan with a cough. He slides forward in the chair so you can have easier access.

Shit. How can something so wrong feel so motherfucking good?

“You okay?” Hoseok asks, giving him a wary side glance as Yoongi clicks around the screen.

The older, sweating man nods stiffly and clears his throat. 

“Yeah. It’s just been a long day. Do you wanna run it through?”

Hoseok leans over for the mouse and Yoongi takes the chance to let his expression crack while you run your tongue up the thick, pulsing vein on the underside of his dick, hand circling around his base.

Yoongi’s eyebrows pinch in fierce concentration on Hoseok’s track once he hits play but all of a sudden, your lips wrap around his tip, and you suck him into hollowed cheeks, devastatingly slow so as to not make noise even though the music would surely cover it. Stifling a groan, he straightens his back and presses his ribcage against his desk when you swirl your tongue around him. He’s going to fucking get you later. 

Hoseok hits the spacebar and pauses the music. As it stops, you halt your movements. “See, there. Something doesn’t sound right.” 

Yoongi’s brows furrow as he tries to center his attention even though your hand is massaging his balls.

“I think I missed it, sorry.” 

Hoseok sighs but moves the mouse to rewind back a few beats. He points at the tracker on the screen to tell Yoongi which part to pay most attention to and he nods.

As the music resumes your mouth returns to his length, and you slowly move down until his tip hits the back of your throat and he holds his breath at the pleasure, moan catching in his chest. He's so goddamn pissed that you’re doing this to him, but it feels so good at the same time. He tries his best to resist the urge to let the pleasure consume him, so he knocks off his snapback to pull his fingers through his hair and begs his brain to focus on the music. 

“Right here, hyung,” Hoseok murmurs next to him and Yoongi nods, listening closely even though your hot tongue licks from his base to the tip. 

Then he hears it, some strange offbeat in the background and he taps the spacebar, sighing through his nose when the silence makes you retreat.

They go over it for a while until Yoongi finally figures out what’s going on since the blood returns to his brain once you stopped touching him (although that doesn’t mean he isn’t still hard, and his dick isn’t twitching in your face and making you salivate and want to touch yourself). 

“Ah, okay, I see what you mean,” Hoseok says when Yoongi explains that there’s an extra beat embedded that’s easy to miss. “Thanks.” He claps him on the shoulder.

“Is that all you need?” Yoongi asks just to be polite but prays Hobi makes a quick exit. 

He nods as he saves the file before ejecting it and Yoongi pulls out the flash drive and hands it to him. 

“How long have you been here?” 

“Uh, a while, but I’m almost done.” Yoongi hopes Hoseok doesn’t see the way his eyes squeeze shut when you begin to move your thumb over his leaking tip.

“Good. You deserve a break! You’ve been working so hard.”

“Thanks, Hob-a. You too.” 

“How’s your girlfriend?”

Yoongi internally groans, now of all times Hoseok wants to make small talk. 

“She’s fine,” he says in a tight voice, only because you have lightly dragged your fingers up his length.

“Uh-oh. Troubles in paradise?” 

Yoongi’s eyes widen in confusion and your hand stills. “No? What makes you say that?”

“Oh, just saying, because usually when anyone asks you about her, you gush for like twenty minutes.”

Yoongi’s face and neck flushes a dark red and you have to press a hand over your mouth to keep yourself quiet. 

“Do not,” he grumbles, although in denial. 

Hoseok snorts. “Fat lie, hyung. You always jump at the chance to talk about her, you don’t realize that? It’s cute! Well, in a sickening kind of way, but still.” 

Yoongi glares at him as he feels your head fall onto his knee, trying to keep yourself from laughing.

“Shut up,” he grumbles.

“Why? Are you embarrassed?” Hoseok teases in a baby voice, bending down to pinch at Yoongi’s cheeks. “Cute Yoonie loves his girlfriend so much that he wants to talk about her all the time.”

“Fuck off, Hoseok,” Yoongi mumbles, swatting at Hoseok’s fingers and pushing him away as he turns back to his computer, and thankfully you’ve cut him a fucking break under his desk.

Hoseok snickers and grabs his laptop. “You better go home and see her, go on a date. But if you’re too busy, I’d be more than happy to take her out for you!”

“Yah, Jung Hoseok!” Yoongi bubbles with fury and Hoseok just cackles and scurries to the exit. 

“Bye!” Hoseok grins mischievously, wiggling his fingers in the air before closing the door behind him. 

A few seconds after the lock clicks shut, you burst out into laughter, and Yoongi flushes a hot, steaming red all the way up to his ears. 

Yoongi pushes away from the desk and ducks his head down to look at you as you begin to crawl out on all fours. He scowls when you giggle once you make eye contact with him.

“I don’t see what’s funny. You’re in big trouble, you know,” he says, stuffing himself back in his underwear.

You stifle a laugh as you stand up. “You mad?”

“Clearly!”

You cock your eyebrow when he darts a hand out in frustration. “At what, the fact that I sucked your dick under your desk or that I found out how much you love to talk about me?”

Yoongi narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. “Both.” 

You smirk. “Aww, come on, Yoonie~” you tease, mimicking Hoseok as you go to sit on your boyfriend’s lap. 

“Go away,” He tries to fight you off but you trap him by grinding down on his hips and shoving your tits in his face. 

You hum as you press an open-mouth kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You sure?” 

Your hand slides down to his clothed dick, still solid under your palm. “Don't you want me to take care of your ‘problem’?” 

He swallows moan as you grope him. But he feels embarrassed and upset that you went down on him when Hoseok was there. Deep down he thinks it was hot, but he knows Hoseok has always had a crush on you and he doesn’t like the idea of him seeing you like that, especially with the kinds of comments he sometimes makes implying that he can treat you better.

“Yeah, when I get home,” he sighs and you deflate. “I’m almost done.”

“Seriously, are you mad?” 

“No, babe. I just want to finish up now so that I can be done for the weekend. That’s what you want, right?”

You grimace, wondering what he means by that. “Fine,” you acquiesce, hopping off of his lap so he can roll back up to his desk. 

You slide on your clothes and gather your things, biting your tongue to keep from saying anything smart, but you can’t help feeling that his words don't sit right in your chest. As you walk to the door and slip on your shoes, you glance over to see him hunched over his desk, not even bothering to look back as you leave.

“You know, maybe I’ll go find Hoseok and take him up on his offer. Since it seems he has the time for me,” you sneer after you open the door, stepping out and slamming it shut behind you. 

Yoongi jerks his head and swivels around but you've already disappeared. Oooh, that pisses him off. He knows you only said it to do just that but that sits right along his insecurities and he wants to lose it. But he really is almost done with work so if he hunkers down now, he can finish and go home and tell you off.

90 minutes later he receives a notification, a text from you with an attached image. You’re lying in bed on your stomach in your corset bra, holding up your head as you pout into the camera with your cleavage on full display. 

my brat: Hoseok was busy :/

Yoongi drops his phone on the table, and it clatters, free hands rubbing frustration down his face. He knows what you’re doing, and he should have the willpower to ignore it but- FUCK are you good at getting what you want. You like pissing him off so that he'll be rough with you. And although he enjoys the dynamic, finds it fun, this is just one of those times that he really doesn’t like how you piss him off. He hates the idea of you alluding to the fact that you asked another man to fuck you. He knows you indeed haven’t, that you’re just messing with him, but he’s getting in his head with his self-doubt. He angrily decides that the track is good enough for now, that he can meet with Namjoon tomorrow or something to tweak it. He has to get home to make sure no one else has touched you but him.

You are in Big. Fucking. Trouble.

When Yoongi walks through the door, you’re in the kitchen getting something to drink, wearing one of his flannel shirts over your lingerie. When he appears you smile and greet him, but falter when he ignores you and quickly shuffles by to the bedroom. You watch him pass you and your smile slips at the stone look on his face. You know you pissed him off but did you make him upset? You never want to hurt his feelings, you just want to get his attention. You set your drink on the counter and pad after him. 

When you walk into the room and lean against the door frame, his back is to you as he strips off his sweater to reveal his dark gray t-shirt and silver chain.

“Did you finish?” you ask, twiddling your fingers over one of the buttons of his flannel. 

“No,” he says, keeping his back to you. You frown.

“Oh. How come?” 

“Because my bratty girlfriend can’t be fucking patient," he grits, swiping off his snapback.

You cross your arms, not appreciating his tone. “I left, didn't I?”

His shoulders shake in a sardonic laugh, fingers combing through his hat-hair. “Yeah, only after telling me you were going to look for Hoseok.”

“Yeah well, maybe if you paid more attention to me, I wouldn’t feel the need to do that,” you sneer before pushing off of the door frame to speed-walk into the living room. 

You only make it halfway down the hall before a hand grabs your wrist. You’re met with Yoongi’s looming figure exuding anger as he glares down at you and you match his energy immediately.

“And you think the way to get my attention is by making me jealous?”

“Well, it seems to be the only thing that’s working! Isn’t that why you came home before you got done with work? Because you think I asked Hoseok to fuck me? Not because you-“ 

“Did you?” he interrupts and your jaw moves in irritation.

“What do you think?” you bark. He blinks down at the floor. There it is again- that insecurity. He backs you into the wall as he tries to control his anxiety.

“I don’t know,” he mumbles honestly and that pisses you off. He really thinks you would stoop that low?

“Really? What, you think I wanted to suck you off while he was there hoping he’d catch us? Ask to join? Have me suck his dick too?” 

Rage floods through him at the thought and his hold around your wrist tightens. 

“Would you?” 

Your mouth drops open. “Wow. Screw you." You pry his hand off and angrily walk back into the bedroom, wanting to put on more clothes now that you’re upset. As he follows, you make a petty point by taking off his flannel and exchanging it for your own clothes, pulling on your own t-shirt and sweats. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he says when he stands in the doorway.

"No? You don’t think that I’d jump at the chance to suck another man’s dick if the opportunity presented itself?” 

“No, of course not,” he shakes his head, feeling guilty when you say nothing else so he continues, wanting you to understand where he's coming from.

“I just… You know he likes you.” 

You spin around, flabbergasted. “Fucking so?”

He closes his eyes, feeling embarrassed that he’s about to bring this up. He has no reason to be worried that you like Hoseok but… he still struggles deep down that he doesn’t deserve you and that you’d be better off with someone else. Maybe someone like Hoseok. 

“Why don’t you go ask him whether or not I took him up on his offer?” you snap. Then you stride across the floor and stand toe to toe with him. 

“Or how bout you find out for yourself,” you provoke. 

He looks down at you with your chin tilted up at his and a heartbeat passes before his hands fly to your face and he presses his lips to yours. You respond immediately by scraping your fingers over his ribs, hooking over his spine as he licks into your mouth, teeth clashing together desperately. 

He begins to walk you backward towards the bed and when you hit the edge of the mattress, he tears your shirt off and lifts you by the waist to settle you down and kiss you hungrily as he climbs on top of you, chain laying on your throat. His hands move down to your sweats and he stands straight to rip them down your legs and onto the floor, looking down at your body decorated with pretty lingerie and he intrusively thinks about Hoseok seeing you like this and jealousy fires through him again. 

He falls to his knees and loops his fingers under the straps of your thong to roughly pull them off, licking his lips at the sight of your bare pussy, glistening with the return of your arousal. He adds to it with his spit and promptly attaches his lips to your clit, growling when you cry out and arch your back in response. He wraps his arms underneath your thighs to hold you in place as he slathers your pussy with his spit and teeth and tongue. 

His eyes close as you let out whimpers and whines of his name while your hands grip his hair, every sound making his dick twitch in his jeans. He sucks and slurps all over your cunt, making it messy between your thighs and on his chin, anything to make you keep wailing his name. He flicks his tongue over your clit and between your folds just like he demonstrated on his fingers back in the studio, and he has to flex his biceps around your thighs when you thrash. He can tell you’re close by the way your legs quiver beside his head and he slides your clit between his teeth before pressing his lips around it and sucking in a fast, relentless rhythm. 

“Yoongi, gonna come!” you cry and a dark chuckle rumbles through his chest at the thought that no one else can get you to your peak as quickly as he can. He mercilessly continues sucking your clit until your legs violently shake and press against his head and you come with shrieks of his name. His tongue dives to your hole as it pulses and he licks your essence into his mouth and groans while he swallows, grinning victoriously as you continue to shake through throes of pleasure. 

He slows his movements as you spiral down, loving the way you twitch at every touch of his mouth. He presses a final kiss to your clit before he moves his arms from under your thighs so he can hover over you while you catch your breath. He places his knee between your legs and leans down to kiss you so you can taste yourself, chain swinging over your heaving breasts. You moan as you dart your tongue against his and loop your arms around his neck to pull him down. Then he slides his lips down your jaw into the crook of your shoulder and speaks gruffly into your ear.

“You think he could make you come like that?”

You immediately shake your head, heat filling your gut at his dark tone. He bites your neck then rolls his tongue over the spot to soothe the sting. 

“You need to say that out loud.”

You draw in a sharp breath. “No! No he couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t what?” he snaps.

“He couldn’t make me come. Not like you do.” 

Pride shoots down his spine and he sits up to straddle your hips, turning you over onto your stomach so he can grab handfuls of your ass. 

“You think he could fuck you like I do? Huh?” he experimentally rolls his clothed bulge over the swell of your ass.

“No,” you whimper with a desperate shake of your head.

“No?” he challenges. “You don’t think so?” He drags his hips against you slowly, hissing at the friction. 

You continue to agree and he hums, still taking his time to drag this out. He just wants to hear it as much as possible but your smart mouth fucks you over.

“If you’re not convinced then we can go find out,” you say, voice muffled by the sheets but he hears you and snarls. 

He leans down to grip a handful of your hair to turn your ear to his mouth.

“Why don’t you do that and I’ll go re-acquaint myself with Mina.”

A vicious green monster tears through your chest and you turn over to face him as your head fills with intrusive thoughts of the hands and body of his ex you once envied all over him while he enjoys it. 

He chuckles mockingly at your expression. “Don’t like that, huh?” 

You say nothing but look at him angrily as you picture him with her, hating it with a passion. 

“Do you, baby?” he coos sarcastically, trailing the backs of his fingers down your cheek. “Don’t like the idea of my hands and my mouth being on someone else?” 

He leans down to emphasize his point by kneading and kissing at your skin that he can reach and your chest heaves in response. 

He rolls his hips. “Or my dick fucking someone else’s pussy?”

You see red and your hands fly up to grab his chain and tug his face parallel with yours so he grunts, a dark grin spreading on his face. 

“No, I don’t fucking like it,” you seethe.

“Now you know how I feel,” he says mockingly. You scowl, fucking annoyed, and let go of his jewelry.

“You brought this on yourself. I never talked to Hoseok. He was the one who said he would take me out if you didn’t.” 

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have heard that if you hadn't been hiding under my desk sucking me off.” 

“Oh, right and you were trying real hard to get me to stop,” you snap, pushing at his chest.

His jaw ticks, realizing you have a point. He leans up and sits back on his heels.

“Or just admit that you didn’t want me to,” you say, propping yourself up on your elbows. His eyes flicker to you darkly.

“That you liked it,” you taunt, moving to sit up on your knees so that you're level with him.

“That maybe if he did catch us he’d be jealous of your long, fat dick.” He shivers as your words send shocks to his core and his ego.

“And how good my throat is for fucking.” 

His gulps at the imagery as your fingers trace under his shirt.

“And how he’d never get to find out for himself,” you say earnestly, looking directly into his eyes. 

Then your hand slowly travels down to his groin.

“But if you want to go find Mina and see if she makes you feel as good as I do,” you mock as you grab his bulge and squeeze under his balls, making him hiss and involuntarily buck against you.

“Then be my fucking guest.” Your teeth grind as you let go of him to move off of the bed but you’re quickly stopped with a hand squeezing your elbow.

“Lay down,” he demands, warm breath fanning over your cheek. 

“Make me." He huffs before moving his hand to your throat and pressing lightly on either side, making your resolve slip. 

“Keep it up, brat.” The very brat in you comes back for an encore as you grab his wrist. 

“Or what? Gonna go call up Mina? You think she’d even want you anymore?” 

His eyes flash menacingly at the venom in your voice and you squeak when he bends down to pick you up, arms supporting your back and under your ass to carry you over to your shared desk.

“It doesn’t matter whether she would or not. Because I don’t want her,” he says simply as he sets you down, knocking the notebooks and tchotchkes out of the way, paying no mind as they clatter onto the floor.

“No? Then who do you want?” You know it’s a stupid question but you’re fucking triggered and you want to hear him say it. He tilts his head as he undoes the buckle on his belt.

“I’m looking right at her, sweetheart.” You falter, but you’re not about to let up that easy.

"Just - Fuck you for bringing her up." Gently pushing your legs apart, he gives you a remorseful smile.

“I’m sorry. I only wanted to get back at you but I took it too far.”

“Get back at me for what?” you ask, glossing over his apology and you’re almost able to ignore his fingers massaging the inside of your thighs. 

He cocks his brow. “For that selfie you sent and your text implying that you asked Hoseok to fuck you but he was too busy?” 

“You started it,” you scoff and cross your arms, chest heaving as his hands move slowly to the part of you that’s aching for him.

“Did I? You were the one who came into my studio and shoved your tits and ass in my face wearing this pretty lingerie all because I haven’t been paying you enough attention.” 

“Try ‘any’ attention.” He hums and looks down to watch his thumb brush over your clit, smirking when you gasp and grab his forearm.

“Baby, it’s only been a few days. Are you that needy for me?” 

You huff but don't try to deny it, eyes rolling to the ceiling when he slides two fingers between your wet folds, lifting up your knee to hold it on his hips so he has a better view and access.

“Thought so.” You shut your eyes so his smug face won’t piss you off.

“Well, remember I tried to leave but you told me to ‘get my ass back here right now,’” you recount, leaning back with a hand on the desk.

You bite your tongue when his fingers sink inside to slowly work you open.

“Yeah, well you’re sexy as hell in this lingerie and I’m a weak bastard for you, so sue me,” he grumbles, staring at your pussy as his hand picks up the pace.

“I’m only sexy in lingerie?” 

He sighs. “Sweetheart, did you miss the part where I said I’m a weak fucking man for you?”

You hum nonchalantly, his words filling your heart up with butterflies but the brat in you is refusing to leave the stage so you ignore him.

He shakes his head and grips your thigh to get you to look at him, making sure you’re paying attention.

“Just shut that smart mouth of yours, baby girl. And let me show you I mean what I say.” 

He lifts one of your arms to hook around his shoulder and you reluctantly acquiesce, letting him situate you in a way that’s comfortable before he pushes down his jeans to free his dick from its confines. Jerking his shaft, he tilts down in concentration to inspect your puffy cunt.

When he thinks it could use more lube, he holds his hand next to your mouth. 

“Spit.” Letting go of your stubbornness, you obey, only because you enjoy the way he doesn’t mind your saliva dropping in his palm.

“Good girl,” he mumbles. You watch impatiently as he tilts his head back while spreading your spit over his tip, making you clench around nothing when his knuckles brush your folds. You whine his name again when you feel his head rub up and down your wet slit before he taps it a few times.

“Beg.”

Your hand slaps his back, matching your huff in frustration and his lip curls. 

“Minus the fucking attitude.”

“It’s been three days.”

“What?” he snaps.

You lift your head with a glare. “I said it’s been three fucking days, why should I beg?” 

He slides his hard, lubed up length in between your folds to show you what you’re stalling. 

“Shouldn’t that be all the more reason to?” he growls as he smacks the side of your ass. 

“I'm not the one who didn't come home. So shouldn’t it be you doing the begging?” 

He stills.

“Maybe,” he says softly, massaging your skin that he knows is stinging from his hand. Your chest squeezes at the sad tone in his voice even though you’re pissed off.

“But you remember what I said about punishing you for getting me hard at work?” 

Your eyes squeeze shut, lips pursing as you nod.

“This is part of it. You’d better fucking beg.” 

He sighs and shakes his head, digging his fingers into your waist when you take a second too long to respond.

“I’m not going to tell you again.” He steps back, threatening to walk away. In a panic, you hook your heels behind him to keep him from going any further.

“Fuck, fine! Yoongi, please. Please fuck me!”

With a dark chuckle, he closes the distance between you again, arm circling around your waist, licking and marking under your jaw. Wrapping your arms around his neck as he holds up your thigh, you moan when he teases your entrance with his throbbing tip.

“I’ll always give you what you want when you’re a good girl for me.”

And just like that, the brat in you is gone. At least for now. He groans when you kiss him with ferocity and allows you to take the reins a bit. You moan and fist his hair in both hands, whining when his hand trails to your core to make sure you’re still ready, and he’s confirmed when he easily slips in three of his fingers, making you gasp into his mouth.

“You want it?” he growls against your swollen lips as he removes his hand covered with your essence to use it as lube on his dick. You nod frantically. 

“Words.”

“Yes!” you wheeze.

“You gonna be a good girl for me?”

“Yes!” You exclaim louder.

“Then turn around.”

He helps you settle on your feet and twirls you around with both hands on your hips, biting behind your ear while he lines himself up behind you.

“You know I love you, right?” You nod, leaning into his teeth and wiggling your hips to entice him but his firm hand on your ass keeps you in place. “But right now I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.” 

A spark floods through you at the way he curls a hand around your throat and simultaneously rubs his head up to your aching clit. You’re screwed, but you are so, so ready. 

“Please!”

Without giving you a second to breathe, he spears into you, forcing you forward with your hands flattened on the desk. You yelp out when he begins ramming into you at an angle so deep your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He slaps your ass, harshly enough to sting, and grunts when you clench around him, continuing to make the room swell with lewd sounds of your wet pussy squelching with every smack of his hips. It feels feral, the force of his thrusts causing the desk to thump against the wall, but the rhythmic sound is drowned out by your mindless moans.

He fucks you like he hates you, like he doesn’t care how the wooden edge is digging into your waist, or the way he’s slapping your ass until your skin is raw, slamming his hips against yours so it’s certain you’re going to have trouble walking. If you didn’t like it so much, you’d be telling yourself not to piss him off ever again.

A hand on your spine pushes you down onto the desk, breasts and face squishing on the lacquered wood, and you moan when he pulls your cheeks a part and you can just picture the way he’s watching himself pound you, tongue poked out in fascination, head moving from side to side to see all the different angles.

“Nah.” He mutters to himself and you glance over your shoulder to see him shaking his head as your body moves up and down. “No one else can fuck you like this. Right?” He grits, fingers digging into your ass as he takes a long stroke of emphasis.

“Mhmm!”

He hums to himself in satisfaction, letting out an amused chuckle before he starts fucking you so hard and so fast and so goddamn good that you don’t realize you’re coming until it hits you, and your finger nails dig into the desk for dear life, leaving scratch marks. As you clench around him he lets out a string of curses that would make even a sailor blush, rubbing his hands up and down your back, fingertips kneading your ass as you shake and come apart.

You’re still trembling when he finally slows his thrusts to a moderate pace and his hands on your skin are moving more gently now that you’re coming down.

“Baby, talk to me. You good?” It takes you a second to register that he’s been talking to you for a few seconds. He just fucked you into euphoria, you’re drooling on the desk because of it, so you need a goddamn minute.

You whine in dissatisfaction when he pulls out of you, only for him to reach over to brush sweaty hair out of your face, and you blink open tear-filled eyes to him peering down at you with concern knitted into his brows.

“You good?” he repeats, continuing to brush your hair back and smoothe his hand down your spine.

You nod. “Mhmm. ‘M a good girl.” His eyebrows lift in relief when you say something that’s somewhat coherent.

“That you are.” You swoon. That’s all you ever want to hear him say, even though more often than not your behavior speaks otherwise. At least he’s shown you that he loves to deal with it.

“I’m gonna bring you over to the bed. Can you make it?” Pushing your hands against the desk, you try to put some weight on your feet and know without even trying that you won’t. It feels like he was on the brink of splitting you in half.

“Only if you carry me.” You can feel his smile on the side of your face as he rubs your shoulders before gently pulling back on them, holding you against his chest once you straighten. He presses light but necessary kisses to your neck and cheek before turning you to the side so he can swoop you up in his arms like you’re his bride. You hope one day you will be.

You could almost cry at the tender way he puts you down on the mattress, his face dewy and red from exertion, and adjusts the pillows beneath you, fluffing them how you like it. How he can so easily slip from being your insane freak in the sheets who hates you to your sweet, doting boyfriend is beyond you but it’s one of the many things you love so much about him. “Too much?” Your heart swells again at his loving tone as he coasts his hand down your torso, inspecting the indentations left on your waist from the desk to make sure they’re ones that won’t bruise.

You shake your head. “I can still remember my own name.”

“Dang, so I could do better,” he smirks.

Blowing a raspberry, you playfully smack the side of his head and he only chuckles and leans down to kiss you. Just as he brushes your lips, you push at his clothed shoulder, suddenly very much bothered by the fact that he is not completely naked yet.

“Shirt,” you mumble, tugging at his collar. “What about it?” “Off.”

He cocks a brow, mouth pulling up into a smirk. “Are you telling me what to do?”

“Yes. Problem?”

He hisses an amused sound, sits up on his knees and blinks down at you, lightly batting your hands away when you reach for the hem of his now unapproved fabric.

“We just went through all that, but you still want to have a fucking attitude?”

You withdraw your hands, rest them on your tummy as you look up at him sheepishly. He looks at you patiently, waiting for a response, but you don’t have one, so you instead raise your hands to the side in a shrug because what can you say? The smirk on his face grows until it turns into a laugh, and he kicks his head back. Fuck, you love his laugh. His shoulders start to shake, gummy grin on full display as he looks down at you through his stringy bangs, and you fall just that much more in love.

“It’s like that, huh?” He muses, coasting his hands up and down your thighs.

“It’s fun to piss you off,” you justify, holding your arms up in invitation and he pauses for a split second before lowering into your embrace.

“Yeah, and I know you have a blast doing it, much to my expense,” he mutters, letting you pepper his jaw with kisses. You giggle as you get over to his mouth and he opens up to swallow down your sounds.

As you makeout, his hips start to rock over yours under the covers, heavy cock desperate to fill you again so you trail your hands down to his ass, digging your go ahead into his skin. Keeping a hand next to your head and his tongue over yours, he reaches down to guide himself back in, humming when you moan in satisfaction. He lifts his head with a curse when you suck him in with ease, baring your neck to him that he nips before straightening his arm to plank above you. He stares down at you with lust-blown eyes as he takes your leg from under the sheets to rest on his shoulder. You bite your lip and grapple for his neck as he fucks into you slowly, hips rolling with deft, meaningful strokes. For a few moments he fucks you like that, reveling in your moans and whimpers, especially when he ducks his head to suck your tits into his mouth.

“Missed you, Yoon,” you whisper suddenly, blissed out and slack-jawed. He pauses his thrusts to put your leg back in place before dropping down to grab your hands and curl them under his, tongue licking roughly over the top of your mouth. Your chest heaves, breathing him in while he sucks on your lips and tongue. 

“Missed you too, doll." His hips resume to a slow rhythm, and you let out a soft cry at the sensation of him filling you up to the brim despite never leaving.

You struggle to kiss him back as you get lost in the clouds again now that he’s rocking into you at a slower pace, pressing deeply into you so you can feel every inch of each other with every stroke.

“So fucking good for me,” he grumbles into your mouth, building rhythm as he brings himself to peak.

“Wanna be,” you slur. 

“Hm?” His tongue pokes out as he focuses on rolling his hips against a tight, cushioned spot that kisses his tip and draws his orgasm closer.

“Wanna be so good for you. Always.” He grins, pride swelling his chest at your promise.

“Not for Hoseok?” Because he has to make sure.

“No,” you whimper, yanking at his chain to bring him down in a messy kiss. “Just you.”

He kisses you with a relieved smile, bites at your neck a few times, and slaps your hip.

“Then get up and ride me. I shouldn’t be doing all this fucking work,” he commands and slips out before pulling you up by the elbows. He crawls around you to sit against the headboard while you turn to face him and prop yourself up on shaking knees.

Noticing this, he pauses and holds you still. “Can you?”

“Mhmm,” you nod, confirming it with a sloppy kiss.

Grinning, he pulls you forward until you hover over his lap and fists his dick to hold himself in place while his other hand pushes you down by your hip. You grip his shoulders and whine as you sink onto him, waiting until you’re fully breached to start circling your hips. As you lean in to lick between his teeth, you rake your fingers down his chest, lightly scratching over his nipples and smiling when he moans. 

“Shit,” he curses against you as you press your thumbs against his buds and he gets you back by attacking your neck with bites and bruises that you’ll have for days. You begin rolling in his lap and hold onto his shoulders for leverage, gasping when he wraps his arm across your waist to pull you closer so your breasts are right in his face and he attaches his mouth to one, leaning back on his hand to hold himself up.

He releases your tit with a pop and tilts his head to watch in content as your knees move to prop yourself up so you can bounce on his dick, appreciating his hand on your ass supporting and guiding you.

“Fuck, doll. Yeah, just like that,” He moans and breaks from your lips to throw his head back as his balls tighten, and you take your turn to make marks on his neck.

“Nngh, gonna come,” he groans deep in his gut, Adam’s apple bobbing and eyes squeezing shut as you continue to rock against him and it throws him over the edge. He pushes at your hips to force you off of him until you fall back once more on the mattress as he pulls out with a gasp. He growls and grunts as thick ropes of hot cum shoot out over your stomach and tits and you moan at the feeling and the sounds he makes. 

“Goddamn,” he wheezes, jerking his dick through the final pulses of his orgasm and he grips your thigh to keep himself grounded. When his dick stops twitching, he falls back over to kiss you roughly.

“Close,” you tell him against his lips and he curses.

“Fuck, okay.” Anticipating being overstimulated but wanting nothing more than to satisfy you, he sits on his heels, pulls your hips onto his thighs and waits for your nod for him to plunge back in.

He wastes no time rutting into the very spot that he knows will guarantee you to come fast and hard. He has to bite his bottom lip to keep from whining at the overstimulation. But it proves fruitless when you pulse your orgasm around his dick, squeezing him so tight, that he starts to come again, encouraged by your endless moans of his name. He manages to keep his release at bay until he feels your wave wash back and yanks himself out at the last second so that he doesn’t give into temptation and come inside you. That level is on the horizon, but neither of you are quite ready for that. He knows just how addictive that will be and it’s too much of a risk.

So he opts to come on your stomach and chest for a second time, not bothering to jerk himself through it and just lets his cock bob on your center as he returns to his place above you. You open your mouth to welcome him before he even lands his fists beside your head.

“Fuck, I love you so much,” he breathes over you, ducking his head into your neck so he can hear you whisper the same.

Dick softening on your lower stomach, he kisses you until his biceps strain under his weight.

“You feeling okay?” He asks, sitting back on his heels and smiling warmly (proudly) at your fucked out expression.

He presses his hands on your hips, heart racing when you won’t stop staring at him and he has to look away to prevent a rise in blood pressure, instead staring at all of his cum spread over you.

He looks back up when he catches your hand reaching for him and he grabs it, wrapping his fingers around your knuckles and bringing it to his lips to kiss your palm, eyes never leaving yours.

“What?” He asks as you pout. He kisses the inside of your wrist and you sigh, let his lips linger there and your heart stops for a moment at his tenderness.

With a smile and one more kiss on the back of your hand, he gets up and grabs a pair of sweatpants on the way to the bathroom, running a washcloth under warm water and wringing it out lightly before bringing it back to you to clean up his mess.

A moment later, he watches you with wide eyes as you slide out of bed and head to the bathroom without a word, albeit with a noticeable wobble. He sighs when the door shuts, getting the feeling that fucking the shit out of each other just now did nothing to solve your problems. While he waits for you to come back out, he strips the bed of soiled sheets to take out to the washer in the hallway closet. Just as he starts the cycle, you emerge from the bathroom, arms crossed over your breasts as you scurry into the bedroom to dress into his hoodie and a pair of his hoochie daddy shorts. You keep your head down while you walk past him for the kitchen, but he catches you with an arm pressed into your abdomen.

“Hey,” he murmurs above your head. “Whatever you’re thinking, you can tell me.”

You nod against his bicep, slipping your hand down to his fingers and tangling them together to lead him into the kitchen. He doesn’t take his hands off of you while you maneuver around to retrieve glasses of water for you both, but you end up just sharing yours. Neither of you say anything for a moment after you refresh yourselves. Then, his knuckles under your chin bring your face level with his, away from staring into the void behind his shoulder.

“The sex was good in there, but it didn’t resolve anything,” he reminds you softly. “We should talk it out before you get too far into your head.”

Fuck. He knows you so well. With a sigh and a blurry waterline, you lean against him, head resting on his shoulder so he doesn’t see.

“I just really missed you,” you start in a small voice. On your temple, he frowns. “And I know it’s kind of pathetic because we live together and you were only gone for three days but I just wish you would make up your mind about coming home or not. It’s just frustrating when you say you’ll be done in a couple hours but it turns out to be five. Or I wait up for you just for you to tell me you’re staying overnight. I know how important your work is, especially when you have a deadline, and I never want to take you away from it, but sometimes it feels like when I tell you to take a break, you act as if I’m asking you to stop altogether. I’m just trying to make sure you eat and rest properly so you don’t burn yourself out and get sick.” Your voice chokes the more you admit, and he lets your words hang in the air before rubbing his hand across the back of your shoulders. Resting his head on yours, he takes a deep breath.

“I love how supportive you are of my job and how much you worry about me, but I’m sorry I make you feel neglected. That’s never my intention.” You hum in acknowledgement and he squeezes the back of your neck.

“I mean, I’m not trying to dig myself out of the hole here, but a lot of the time when I come to a dead end with a project and feel like giving up, I think about you and how the faster I get done, the faster I can come home and devote all of my time to you.” You can’t hold back a sniffle. He frowns and gently pulls you by your shoulder and waist to press your fronts together. You wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his chest, along with your tears.

“I’m so sorry I made you upset, baby,” he whispers, his own voice choked up. “I just get stuck sometimes and it’s hard for me to give it a rest. Thank you for loving me so well that you knew when I needed you to come drag me out. And three days is way too long to not he home. I’m sorry I made you feel like it wasn’t.” You swallow a sob and hold him tighter.

“Well, I’m sorry I made you think I wanted Hoseok to fuck me.”

His nostrils flare with a small laugh. “I know you were just trying to piss me off. But I don’t know if I want us to make each other jealous by doing that anymore, y’know?”

You nod in quick understanding and he purrs gratefully, lifts a hand to gently tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“Because I guess sometimes I just worry that you could do better.”

Your limbs freeze as his words sink in and spreads your blood thin. Placing your hands on his hips, you lean away to look right at him, eyebrows furrowing at his pained smile.

“That has to be the stupidest fucking thing you’ve ever said.” Chewing the inside of his cheek, he suppresses a laugh.

“I’m serious.” You reach up to cup his jaw. “Don’t tell yourself that. I love you. You’re it for me, Yoongi.”

Starlight fills his eyes as he gazes down into your soul. He hugs you tightly, and whispers those same three words back, all of the weight he’s ever carried lifting off of his shoulders now that you’ve solidified that you’re his forever.

“I’m gonna do better to not spend so much time at the studio,” he promises, fingertips massaging the back of your head.

“Maybe just limit your overnighters to once a week.” He smiles, leans in to kiss you, hearts feeling warm and full. “I can work with that. And next time you want to blow me at work, try not to do it when one of my colleagues is in there.”

“Fine,” you sigh in exaggeration. “But at least admit that you liked it.”

“I don’t have to answer that.”

“Why not?” you challenge playfully. “It was a one time thing, so the least you can do is-” He cuts you off with a kiss that wipes your brain clear of any thoughts.

“You were saying?” he mumbles against your lips with a knowing smirk.

“Fuck if I know,” you breathe and he chuckles.

Leaning back in, he kisses you slowly, thoughtfully for a few moments, then breaks away with eyes hazed with love and boops your nose.

“Why don’t we go shower and get dressed so I can take you out on a date, hm? We’ll go wherever you’d like.”

A bright and wide smile on your face, you tangle both of your hands together and lean up to kiss him. He melts into you and your heart glows as radiant as the rising sun. You break, and your cheeks burn when you notice how his have turned a noticeable shade of pink.

“Let’s both decide on a place. But maybe tomorrow or the day after when I can walk a little better.” He grins and kisses your forehead, softly pats your ass.

“Sounds good to me.”

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Thanks for reading! i've had this sitting in my drafts for a while and finally got the courage to post it so I hope you enjoyed! lmk what you think if you want! Also im the queen of run-on sentences so i apologize for that! And some of it might seem kind of rushed, but i was really trying to keep it under 10k.

xxx - claret

p.s. check out my yoongi mafia series not in the cards if you haven't already! thanks again!!