#i find it far too amusing that you can do this in the first place much less the Permanent Trip hence why i'm posting it here. 👍

[bambi-lamb]

over the phone

Summary: Ever since Wanda left for a routine work trip, things have felt off—even compared to previous trips. Things come to a head one day and you can't help but ring her up. Just to talk... well, at first anyway.

Tags: wanda maximoff x f!reader, 18+, smut, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, phone sex, dacryphilia, mommy kink, nipple play (is that a tag idk), implied sadomasochism (just a lil bit), remote vibrator, fingering

WC: 3,165

A/N: i know the tags are a little crazier than usual... and the length is double what i normally have. i don't know what happened— hopefully someone is into this though

"Detka? Are you there?"

The phone speaker crackles in the following silence, breaking you out of your stupor.

"Sorry, Wanda. I'm here."

She hums softly on the other side of the line, sounding amused.

"So, why did you call me, sweetheart?"

The honey-sweet words trickle into your ears and you sigh, leaning back against the headboard and fidgeting restlessly with the edge of the duvet.

"Just missed you. Wanted to hear your voice," you respond quietly, hoping that the phone catches it.

Evidently, you're not entirely successful.

"Hmm? Say that again, baby?"

You slump down against the pillow, sliding underneath the covers and turning to the side. The phone finds its way between your hands, still on speaker, and you cradle it closer to your face, staring unblinking at the caller ID screen as you repeat yourself.

Wanda chuckles softly, and the phone slides out of your loose grasp. You melt into the mattress before reaching out to readjust the phone until it's in place again.

"I missed you too, detka. What have you been up to today?"

You hum softly, squeezing a second pillow between your arms as you think over your response.

"Not much. I went out and bought groceries. Nothing special. Everything feels so stale without you here," you lament.

A soft huff of breath crackles through the speakers.

"I'll be back soon, detka. I'm only here for one more day, I promise."

You sigh and turn onto your back again, hugging the pillow tighter.

"I just miss you so much."

"I know, sweetheart, I know."

The soft warmth spreading in your chest is all-too-eager to branch as far as it can go, and a low ache settles at the bottom of your stomach. Wanda's voice has always been a weak spot for you, and even through crackling phone speakers that hasn't changed.

"Miss you in all the ways," you murmur, suddenly overwhelmed by the intensity of your need.

Wanda coos softly, but doesn't say anything further. As her raspy voice echoes through the speaker, tears spring to your eyes. It hurts to miss someone this much. You've never had much issue with Wanda leaving before. It's not like you don't understand that she's busy.

But for some reason, this time has felt different from all the others. Your everyday life feels emptier, hollow, surreal. Without Wanda to anchor you down, you feel like you're a phantom, coasting on muscle memory to get through the day until you can get in bed and dream of green eyes.

"Wish you could just come home already," you whine, trying to tamp down your rising emotions.

"Detka," Wanda murmurs. "It's okay. I'm here. Stay with me, okay? Mommy's here."

You battle with your conflicting desires, desperation and desire coursing through your veins in equal measure. You flip back onto your side again, clutching the phone like a lifeline, thumbs pressed into the screen as if that will somehow bring you closer to Wanda.

"Mommy," you whisper back, taking solace in the title as your breathing evens out again.

"Yes, sweetheart. I'm here," Wanda reassures.

Lust roars to life suddenly and you squeeze your thighs together, mind blank as Wanda's soft voice washes over you.

"Mommy," you whisper again, heavier this time, weighted down by desire.

"My baby," she murmurs in response, low and firm.

"Need you. Please." You've been reduced to short phrases already, finally letting your mind take a backseat and just letting yourself feel.

"What do you need from mommy, detka?"

"Want mommy, please. Want to hear— want…" you can't find the right words, overwhelmed by just how much you need Wanda in this moment. You just need her, need to anchor yourself.

Luckily, Wanda understands what you're asking for all too well.

"You want mommy to tell you what to do? Is that it, detka?"

You nod limply, before realizing Wanda can't see you.

"Mhmm," you hum into the screen instead, fingers still digging into the phone case as you pull it even closer.

"How badly do you need it, sweetheart?"

Wanda's voice is teasing, and you can hear shuffling on the other side of the line then the click of a door locking.

"Need you so bad, please mommy." The words tumble out in a rushed mess, but at this point you can hardly bear to think of this phone call ending in anything other than an orgasm.

Wanda chuckles again.

"You're so lovely for me, detka. So needy. So sweet. You know what mommy would do to you if she could be there with you?"

You shiver, pillow long-forgotten as you clutch the phone between your fingers.

"I would take it so slow, sweetheart. Draw it out a little bit, just tug down the top of your shirt and play with your pretty little nipples until you're squirming and crying."

Wanda sounds delighted; you can hear the smile in her voice as she describes how she would touch you.

"Just softly at first, only the best for my baby. I'd use my mouth and tongue, and then when you're squirming for more, mommy would use her fingers to pinch and squeeze and roll. The way you like it, baby," she hums, and you shiver again.

"Can you do that for mommy, sweetheart? Can you pinch your pretty nipples for her?"

You whine high in your throat, listening to the way Wanda laughs softly through the phone.

"Mommy," you whimper, tugging your tank top down and setting down the phone next to your head. You know exactly what Wanda means, and you pinch and squeeze, rolling your own nipples roughly between the pads of your fingers, the way you know Wanda always does, the way you like it.

"Oh god, mommy—" the moan gets caught in the back of your throat, coming out choked as bolts of white-hot electricity course up your spine.

"You're doing so good for me, detka," she coos, and you sob desperately, already overwhelmed.

"Just keep it up for me, sweetheart. I want to hear you cry."

You acquiesce obediently, squeezing your nipples until they're swelling, reddened by the abuse, until you can feel tears welling up and spilling over. Wanda keeps whispering soft encouragements through the speaker even as you pant and moan, broken only by soft sobbing and crying.

It never surprised you, but you're sure anyone else in the neighborhood who knows Wanda would be startled to discover her sadistic streak. She's always liked seeing you cry, and it only helps that you like it when she makes you hurt—when she tears you apart and builds you back up again.

"Mommy," you whimper again, a broken noise that makes Wanda moan softly on the other end of the line.

"Oh, detka, you sound so pretty," she coos, enjoyment sparkling in her voice.

"Please," you beg, shivering and shaking with every new jolt of sensation.

"Mmh, good girl," she murmurs. "You can stop now, just for a little bit."

You moan with relief as you're finally given permission to pull your hands away from your chest.

"And then mommy would touch you lower, wouldn't she? You know how mommy likes you, baby. Legs tucked up against your chest so you're nice and open for mommy. Go ahead, sweetheart, why don't you start now, hm?"

You pant softly as your pull your own legs up and apart, kicking off the duvet and whimpering when cold air meets your sticky cunt.

"Mommy would start slow, just keep you spread open with her fingers, and just watch. Wait until you're squirming and wiggling before she touches you. Just keep yourself open, baby, you can listen to how mommy wants to touch you first. No touching yet."

You hum and abide by her rules, reaching down only to spread yourself even further apart, shivering as you imagine Wanda's lazer-sharp gaze on your spread cunt.

"And then mommy would touch you so softly, just gently rub with her fingers where you're nice and open for mommy. Never inside, just right outside, where your pretty cunt opens up for mommy."

You shiver as you imagine the sensation, all-too-familiar with how it feels.

"Do you think you could ever come like that, baby? With mommy's mouth on your nipples and her fingers rubbing your cunt just like that?"

Wanda moans softly at her own words, and you whimper loudly into the speaker. It sounds torturous and delicious all in the same.

"Hmm, maybe once mommy gets home," she murmurs. "How's my detka feeling now, hm? Are you being a good girl? You're not touching yourself, are you?"

Her words are edged with danger.

"No, mommy. I'm being good. Not touching myself. Keeping myself spread open with my fingers, just like mommy would," you profess earnestly.

Wanda hums thoughtfully.

"You wouldn't lie to me, would you baby?"

"Promise I'm being honest, mommy."

Wanda coos softly, reassured.

"Good girl, detka."

You moan softly in the back of your throat. Without realizing it, you've started rocking your hips against the empty air, searching for more stimulation.

"Now where were we? Ah, right, mommy would rub your pretty cunt until you're crying again, and then keep rubbing. Just until she's satisfied. You'd have to be a good girl and beg for more. Beg for mommy's fingers."

"Please," you moan. "Please, mommy, please." Mindless even though you haven't even begun to touch yourself.

"You can touch yourself now, baby," she coos gently. "Just like mommy said, okay? Don't go inside just yet. Just outside. Nice and soft."

You agree quietly, letting go of where you're stretching yourself open to reach down further. You take your index and middle fingers and begin to rub in careful circles, moaning at the touch.

You've heard about this before, know just how many nerve endings exist in just this region, and it feels like you're on fire. Desperation seizes you. You want more. You want so badly to feel full, to come already, but Wanda hasn't given you permission to do anything beyond this, and you're nothing if not a good girl for her.

"Good girl," Wanda hums, and then continues to describe more, dropping her voice torturously low as she paints new visuals through the speaker.

"And then mommy would press inside, so so slow, bit by bit until you're all filled up. But as soon as mommy's inside, she'd pull right back out, all the way. Rub your pretty little clit with those same fingers until you're crying again, so close, and then stop. Once you're calmed down, mommy would do it again, and again, and again. Over and over."

"Mommy," you sob desperately. "Mommy, please."

Wanda hums softly, but doesn't acknowledge your pleas.

"You don't have to do it so many times tonight, baby. Just a couple. Just so mommy can hear you cry again. And then mommy wants you to go get your vibrator. Mommy will make you come like that, okay?"

You shiver and gasp as you continue to work yourself up.

"Yes, mommy. Please, mommy."

Wanda seems to be feeling merciful tonight, because she doesn't wait very long.

"You can go in now, detka. Just like mommy said, okay? Nice and slow."

You nod eagerly, forgetting Wanda can't see you, and begin to nudge your fingers inside, torturously slow, exactly the way Wanda has so many dozens of times in the past.

The stretch burns, just a little bit, even with how slick you are, and you moan into the speaker. It takes nearly a full minute just to seat your fingers in completely, and you sigh as you clench down, finally feeling full.

"Pull out, baby," Wanda orders firmly.

You whine, crying out in disappointment, but you don't disobey.

"Mommy," you beg, even as you pull back out completely, leaving your cunt empty and needy again.

"No, baby. Not yet. Be good for mommy. Now you have to rub your pretty little clit. Soft. Gentle. Mommy wants you to edge yourself three times, okay? She can count for you, baby." Wanda's breathing sounds labored on the other side of the line, and you briefly have time to think about whether or not she's touching herself, too.

Then your fingers are on your clit and your thoughts wash away again.

You rub just as she instructed. Slowly, gently, cautiously. Just enough to slowly build you up to an orgasm. Never enough to tip you over. Desire throbs low and slow in your stomach, but Wanda's low voice keeps your orgasm at bay. Slower. Lighter. Hold it.

Soon enough, her voice is all you can think about. It replaces the voice in your own head, guiding every movement of every part of your body. No coming. Never coming. Just rubbing, slowly.

When you whimper a little too loud into the speaker, Wanda makes you stop. Pulling your hand away feels like hell, but you do it anyway. When your breathing settles to an acceptable degree—Wanda makes you hold the phone up to your mouth until you stop panting—she has you start again.

Slow and steady. Stretching yourself open with two fingers until you're spreading around your knuckles, and then out and away. And then once again, rubbing your clit until you can feel just how empty you are, clenching down around nothing. The tears well up this time, and Wanda coos softly when you hiccup soft sobs into the phone.

She still makes you stop.

"That's two, detka. Just one more. One more. You can do it, can't you?"

You nod limply, fingers seated deep inside your cunt. It feels glorious, to be full just for this one moment, walls fluttering around something until Wanda orders you to pull them back out, and then you're hollow again, incomplete.

This time, she has you rub even longer, twice as long as you had to before. She makes you pause whenever your breathing speeds to much, or you moan too loud. She tells you to keep your fingers on your clit no matter what, even if you're paused, just to feel the way it throbs underneath your fingertips.

When it does, she asks you to count each pulse out loud, to tell her exactly how much you need her, how much you need more.

"Okay, baby, you can stop now," she orders, after making you count for the fifth time.

"Get your vibrator, sweetheart. Press it in as far as it will go, okay?"

You reach over to the bedside table, fumbling with the drawer until you find the small vibe, sucking on the tip for only a moment before you're eagerly cramming it into your cunt. It feels heavenly, to finally have something inside again, and you moan softly.

"Good girl," Wanda coos from the phone, and you feel the way the vibrator comes to life.

It's slow, probably at the lowest setting, but you're still grateful for the way the vibrations pulse outward, rippling through your nerves deliciously.

"Oh, sweetheart," Wanda murmurs. "You've been so good for mommy today. So sweet. So obedient. Do you want to come?"

You whine eagerly, half-sentences forming in your throat.

"Please, mommy, please. Want. Wanna come. Please."

Wanda chuckles softly, and the vibrator jacks up to the highest setting. You sob gratefully into the phone, your entire body shivering as pleasure finally floods into you.

"Whenever you want, detka," she hums.

The orgasm is aggressive, fast, overpowering. It crashes through your entire body, your toes curling and back arching as all the tension you've built up for the past hour is finally released.

But even after you've come down, panting loudly into the speaker, Wanda doesn't stop the vibrator. She lets it run, still thrumming harshly deep inside of you, until you're tipped over into a second orgasm. The second orgasm is just a tinge of painful, but that ache quickly bleeds into euphoria again.

When she still doesn't stop, you begin to beg, pleading incoherently with Wanda to turn down the vibrator, to stop completely.

Wanda gives no indication at all that she's heard you.

The third orgasm is an all-consuming heatwave, burning through every raw nerve ending as your entire body is left twitching in the aftermath. The fourth and fifth completely remove all sense of coherency and reality from you. Even still, the vibrator keeps buzzing away, tucked deep in your cunt. Wanda murmurs the whole way through, reassurances sweet in her mouth.

She still doesn't stop, though, even when you've lost your voice from how much you've moaned and cried through each orgasm.

You don't even know how many times you actually come. At least 7 times, you think. When she finally turns the vibrator off, you're a complete mess, drenched in sweat and tears, your thighs coated in sticky arousal and come.

"You're okay, detka," she murmurs through the phone.

"You've been so lovely for me. Can you do just one more, baby? Just one more? Mommy wants to hear another one, pretty please?"

You whimper hoarsely, already overstimulated beyond belief, but it doesn't even matter, because the vibrator is buzzing to life yet again.

"Just one more, sweetheart. You can do it. Mommy knows you can. You're so good for me."

You manage to choke out a moan as pleasure builds in your gut yet again, aching and burning. It hurts, but it also feels euphoric.

"Be a darling and rub your clit for mommy, okay? Nice and hard, baby."

You cry out when you do, fingers pressed into your clit as you nudge along another orgasm. It's all too much, but Wanda only turns the vibrator higher. All of a sudden, the orgasm crashes through you, and you shudder one last time, squeezing down on the pulsing vibrator inside you.

You cry out unintelligibly, and Wanda turns the vibrator down, letting you ride out your final orgasm before shutting it off.

"Such a good girl for me, detka," she coos softly. "You're so lovely for me, sweetheart. I'm so proud of you."

You hum into the phone, listening to the way it crackles with sound. You have half a mind to pull the vibrator back out and you leave it on the nightstand, but your uncooperative legs won't let you stand, let alone walk to the bathroom to clean up.

"It's okay, baby. You can go to sleep now. Mommy will be back in no time, okay?"

"Love you, Wanda," you murmur, eyelids already drooping with exhaustion.

As you drift off, vision swimming and blurring, you hear Wanda's honeyed voice come through the speakers again.

"Love you too, detka."

Slipping away into dreamland, you're met with the same dream as you have been for days now. When you're met with green eyes and red hair this time, you no longer feel so hollow—instead, warmth floods through you. The world around the two of you takes shape, changes colors, blissful and bright.

Wanda's eyes sparkle as she laughs at you, tugging you along to nowhere in particular, and you find yourself smiling—genuine and full.

[peridots-pixiwolf]

playing stray again for the first time in eight months and upon reaching midtown I naturally went to trip the peacemaker as many times as I could before I got bored of it but uh?? it isn't getting back up???

[afterglowsainz]

Hey can I get a jealous Jude x female reader. Nothing too toxic lol l, it’s just some guys hitting y/n up on social media and somehow Jude sees the DMs and gets a little jealous. Then his petty self goes and posts a picture of him and his girlfriend on her ig or something petty like responds back with a “she’s busy bro”. Thanks 🫶🏻

jealousy | jude bellingham

obsessed with this concept already !!

summary: while you're getting ready to go out on a date with your boyfriend, he accidentally sees some dms he doesn't like and decides to do something about it

warnings: none

word count: 738

a/n: boring title booo i know i know i couldn't think of anything better :( i do hope you like the one shot tho it was fun to write about jealous jude <3

you were getting ready to go out on a date with jude while he was laying on your bed waiting for you. his phone was charging somewhere in the living room so you gave him yours to play a game so he doesn’t get bored. you were putting on your makeup while singing along to your playlist while he was building some villages or whatever it was that they do on clash royale. however, jude got distracted when an instagram dm pop up at the top of your phone, it was from this formula 1 driver that he knew was always liking your pictures, he didn’t knew he was dming you as well. he thought about opening the message, but he didn’t want to invade your privacy like that, so he simply looked at you.

“someone dm you.” he says.

his voice took you out of your little world and you place your gaze on him thought the mirror you were applying your makeup on.

“who?”

“lando norris.” he reads the name like he didn’t knew already.

“what does it say?” you hide a laugh and continue with your makeup routine.

jude opens the message and reads it out loud. it was obvious he was hitting on you by replying to a story you had posted earlier that day when you went to brunch with your friends and you felt cute.

“are you gonna answer?” he asks again, hints of jealousy on voice.

“not really, no.” you answer and go back to singing along and applying mascara on.

when jude goes back to the screen on your phone his thumb accidentally swipes left and your whole inbox is completely exposed to him. he didn’t meant to do that, but it really was an accident and he couldn’t help but see now that it was there, only he wished he didn’t have.

some of your dms were just conversations with your friends, but a lot of them were just guys replying to your stories and hitting on you, which made him even more jealous than before. you never replied to them, going as far as deleting some of the messages you received, but since you hadn’t checked your instagram since that afternoon a lot of dms from different guys complimenting you on your story were there for jude to find.

he frowns at the phone and takes a look at you, completely oblivious while doing your eyeliner. his eyes go back to the screen and he starts looking up some pictures that you took the week before of you two.

“do you mind if i post one of those pictures you took of us last week?” he asks out of nowhere. “so i can repost it on my story.” he clarifies.

you frown a bit confused because this is the first time he has asked you something like this, but after him seeing the other guy’s dm and feeling a bit jealous you connected the dots and smile amused.

“sure.” you say.

he nods and went to post a story with the two of you looking definitely like the couple you were. he spend a few seconds thinking about a good caption, landing on a simple “my boyfriend❤️”, very straight to the point. he also tagged himself big enough for everyone to see and posted the picture, a satisfied smile on his face.

when you were done with your makeup and ready to go, you approached him and sat on his lap, your phone still in his hand.

“let me see the picture.” you smiled. he shows you the story and you rolled your eyes, a bit amused at his possessiveness. “was that really necessary?” you point at the text and he just shrugs.

“i just feel like there’s a lot of people that don't know we’re together, you know? just wanna put it out there.” you nod, fighting the smile on your face and putting your arms around him.

“is that so?” you tease him, getting closer to him if that was even possible.

“yeah, lots of guys on your dms.” he confess. “they liked your selfie earlier.”

“hmm.” you answer. “i wouldn’t know about that, i only like one guy.” a treacherous smile takes over his lips and you take the opportunity to kiss him. “wanna go? we’ll be late to dinner.”

jude just nods and gets out of bed, never dropping your hand for a second.

[theemporium]

[3k] a f1 gossip page gets insider knowledge of what might be the paddock's best kept secret. in fact, it is so well kept that even the paddock don't know who it is about (aka a wee crack fic i couldn't get out of my head ft the papaya bunch).

series masterlist

.

It was media day at the Barcelona Grand Prix when the rumours began.

Somewhere between team media duties and the official conferences, a group had found themselves lounging in the shared canteen. It was a neutral zone, the journalists weren’t allowed inside and it was just a place for most of the drivers to relax with their family and friends outside of the garages and motorhomes. 

You were sat in the seat next to Lando, his arm sprawled over the back of your chair and his thigh pressing against yours with how close he was sitting beside you. He was looking over your shoulder, a giddy smile on his face as you went through a few of the shots he had taken on his camera that morning—including an obscene amount of ‘candid’ shots that you made him swear not to post anywhere, despite his reassurances you looked gorgeous. 

It was a startled laugh from Daniel that caught everyone’s attention.

“There’s no fucking way!” Max laughed as he gaped at Daniel’s phone screen, shaking his head as he did. “Where the fuck do they get this from?!” 

Daniel only laughed harder. 

It took a few minutes before the Aussie finally turned his screen around and display the tweet for everyone to see. It took a few more minutes of snooping to find the article that followed the bizarre rumour. 

“Alright, who’s gonna fess up?” Lando joked as his eyes glanced over all the drivers currently sprawled across the various tables. “My bet is on Carlos. He seems like the kinda guy to have a secret kid.”

“Shut up,” Carlos scoffed before he nodded to the boy on his right. “It would obviously be Charles.”

The Monegasque spluttered out a laugh, his cheeks heating up. “It’s not me!”

“That’s what someone who has a secret kid would say,” Max retorted, seeming to enjoy the way the Ferrari driver’s face began to match the colour of his shirt. “You can tell us the truth about Charlie Junior.”

“First of all, I would never name my child that,” Charles said with his nose scrunched up in displeasure. “And I wouldn’t hide my children. I would be proud of them.”

“They could be hiding the children for privacy's sake. A paddock isn't exactly the best place for a child to be roaming around. Or the safest,” another voice spoke up and everyone’s eyes fell to the younger Aussie sitting across the table from you. Oscar squirmed a little under the sudden attention. “What?”

“You wanna tell us something, mate?” Lando questioned, a grin growing on his face.

Oscar’s cheeks burned red. “I-It’s not about me!” 

“You caught him,” Logan laughed as he playfully knocked his shoulder against his friend’s. “He has three kids back in Australia. Our lil’ Oscie is a father.”

Oscar frowned. “Don’t ever call me that again.”

“I’m offended you didn’t tell us,” you joked as you knocked your foot against his shin under the table. “I expected to be the godmother of one of your kids.”

“You would be if I had any,” Oscar quickly countered, making you snort in response. 

“Well, we have some clues,” Daniel commented as he leaned back in his chair, looking far too amused with the situation. “Time to start going through possible suspects.” 

“Maybe you’re trying to throw us off your scent,” you joked.

“Shhh, sweetheart, they can’t know about our secret family just yet,” the Aussie teased as he sent a wink your way.

You felt an arm tighten around you and turned to see Lando glaring—albeit, jokingly—towards his former teammate. “Back off, Ricciardo, if anyone is gonna have a secret family with her, it’s gonna be me.” 

Daniel laughed. “Please, the two of you couldn’t keep a secret from us if you tried!”

“Uh, we so could,” you retorted.

“You two couldn’t even keep Oscar’s surprise birthday party a secret and it was your idea,” Logan pointed out, raising his hands in mock surrender when your head snapped around to look at him. 

“We got excited!” You defended. 

“And you don’t think you would be excited about a secret family?” Oscar countered. 

“I think we could hide a secret pretty damn well if we tried,” you replied with a shrug as you leaned further back into your boyfriend’s embrace.

“Especially as something as serious as a secret family,” Lando added with a nod.

“Who cares?” Max eventually said with a laugh. “The rumour is a load of bullshit anyways. There’s no way anyone is going to believe it.”

As it would turn out, the whole world believed the rumours. The rest of the race weekend was haunted by the ‘new’ piece of gossip. The paddock was full of whispers of ‘who?’, the journalists thought they were being sly as they snuck in a few questions to catch the drivers off guard, and hundreds of fan theories took over every social media platform as the weekend commenced.

Truthfully, you thought it would be one of those rumours that dragged on for a bit as a joke but died down by the next weekend. 

You were very wrong.

...

...

You didn’t realise how wrong you were until the Austrian Grand Prix came about the following weekend. 

With both McLaren drivers wrapped up in some nonsense challenge video the media team had set them up for, you had made your way towards the Williams garage to spend your Thursday afternoon with them instead. 

There was a cosy spot in the garage where you found yourself sat with Logan and Alex as the team buzzed around them, whispers and talks of the car’s potential that weekend. You were laying back in your seat, your feet thrown over Logan’s lap as you chatted away to Alex when the American caught both of your attention.

“There’s two!”

Logan lifted his head to find two matching confused expressions staring right back at him.

“There’s two,” he repeated as he turned his phone around, a single tweet sprawled over his screen with an all too familiar username on display. “Two kids! A driver is hiding two kids!”

You snorted. “You have got to be shitting me. One rumoured kid wasn’t enough so they added another?” 

“This driver has certainly been busy,” Alex mused as he took Logan’s outstretched phone, beginning to scroll through the never-ending comments under the tweet. “I guess the long term girlfriend thing does kinda narrow it down.” 

You raised your brows. “Don’t tell me you think it’s real.” 

“I still have my bets on Oscar,” Logan commented with a grin, his eyes crinkling in the way you knew they did before the boy laughed. “He’s a dodgy guy. I bet he’s Formula One’s own Hannah Montana with a whole double life.” 

“And, what? We are a part of his famous life?” You questioned. 

“It would make sense,” Alex supplied with a shrug. “He could have a normal family back home in Australia and no one would even know.”

You rolled your eyes. “Alex, don’t encourage him.”

“Hey,” Logan frowned.

“If it turns out to be true, you wouldn’t be upset that your best friend hid something like that from you?” You retorted, watching as the boy’s face slowly fell. 

Alex snorted. 

“I need to go talk to….someone about…something,” Logan said vaguely before he quickly stood up, knocking your feet off his lap and rushing out the garage with a serious look on his face. 

“Logan!” You called after him, laughing as you did so but it was a hopeless endeavour. He was a man on a mission and you knew nothing would stop him. “God, I should go before he ambushes the McLaren motorhome.” 

“Life as a parent, huh?” Alex joked, nudging your shoulder and snickering when you rolled your eyes. 

“Who would have thought I would end up adopting an American of all people?” You joked back before standing up. “Time to go stop my eagle son from throttling my kangaroo son.” 

Alex flashed you a smile. “Motherhood suits you.” 

“Oh, shut up,” you rolled your eyes. 

And little did you realise there was a certain pair of ears listening in to your playful conversation with the Williams driver, already drafting up a message before you left for the bright orange building a few garages down. 

...

...

It was odd for you and Lando to find any alone time during a race weekend and it was mostly due to the two rookie drivers you had somehow adopted. 

It started off as a comfort thing at first. Lando knew what it was like to be young and new to the sport. He knew that even if he was coming in with friends, it still felt daunting. It was the reason he seemed to take Oscar under his wings after the Bahrain race weekend, despite the boy’s initial awkwardness. 

It had been you who gravitated towards Logan. Your heart warmed at the sight of your boyfriend helping out his younger teammate, but it completely shattered when you were making your way towards the McLaren garage and spotted a certain blond rookie hidden between motorhomes. He almost looked as though he was trying to make himself seem as small as possible. 

Lando didn’t question it when you started to venture to the Williams garages in between practices and media duties. He saw the look in your eyes, the small spark that showed your determination. He knew your kindness knew no limits and he would never even try to stop you. 

Neither of you realised you were signing up for the roles of the 2023 rookies’ grid parents until Logan and Oscar had sauntered into Lando’s driver room and all but settled themselves between you both on the Thursday of the Baku Grand Prix. 

You didn’t mind it, really. Race weekends tended to be hectic and chaotic on their own, so it was rare that you and Lando would spend much time alone. Beyond the exasperated sighs and joking remarks, neither of you minded when Oscar would lay his head on your laps after a gruelling interview or when Logan would ramble about some American custom he swears all three of you would enjoy. 

It was odd not being the youngest ones on the grid anymore, but there was also something so comforting in knowing you were a safe haven for these two boys in the paddock—and sometimes, even off the track. 

So honestly, it was an utter fucking shock that you and Lando found yourselves alone with time to kill in his driver’s room, especially with it being the Silverstone Grand Prix weekend. 

Neither of you questioned your luck for very long before you found yourself straddling your boyfriend, knees on either side of his hips and ass firmly planted on his lap. His hands were shamelessly groping your ass. Your hands were tangled in his curls, tugging a little harsher than usual just to hear his little whimpers in between kisses. It was shameless and sloppy and a little more than either of you intended—but you didn’t have a single issue with it. 

“Shit,” Lando moaned, his voice a little more high-pitched than usual when your lips met his neck. “I fuckin’ missed this.”

“Yeah?” You murmured against his skin, your tongue dancing along a particularly sensitive spot just below his ear. “I missed hearing how pretty you sound.”

“You can’t say stuff like that,” Lando grumbled, his eyes fluttering shut as he pulled you closer, as he pressed his body against yours. 

“But it makes you blush and you look so cute when you blush,” you teased as you lifted your head, admiring the pink tint to his cheeks. “My pretty boy.”

“You’re a tease,” Lando muttered as he sat up on the couch, as he pulled you closer so he could press his lips against yours again. 

“You love it,” you retorted, the words mumbled in between kisses. 

“So fucking much,” he grinned into the kiss, his hands wandering down your thighs before slowly moving back up to your ass. 

In fact, it had been so long since you and Lando got a chance to utilise your time alone in the paddock that you forgot the first rule of making out like horny teens on the small couch—lock the fucking door.

“HOW COULD YOU—OH MY GOD, MY EYES!” 

“GROSS! WE DID NOT NEED TO SEE BABY NUMBER THREE BEING MADE!”

If it weren’t for the tight hold Lando had on you, you would have been flat on your ass when Logan and Oscar stormed into the room. You stared at the boys in shock, your cheeks heating up as the mortification of the situation washed over all four of you. 

You quickly moved yourself off Lando’s lap, instead sitting on the couch beside him as you stared at the two rookies who currently had their hands over each other’s eyes. 

“Have you ever heard of knocking?!” Lando sighed.

“Have you ever heard of a door lock?” Oscar retorted.

“Touche,” he muttered back with a nod. 

“You know you can look now,” you told the boys, a little amused with their theatrics. “We aren’t naked.”

Logan hesitated. “Promise?”

“Promise.” 

Both boys slowly dropped their hands and, truthfully, you were expecting for them to instantly break out into whatever excited ramble they had come to tell you both. It wasn’t unusual for them to do as much, to want to share something with you and Lando that amazed them but didn’t want to admit to anybody else in fear of seeming like…well, rookies. They knew you and Lando would never judge their excitement to the world of Formula One and all the little quirks they were discovering.

Except, there was no excited storytelling or massive grins. Instead, both boys stood in front of you with frowns on their faces and their hands on their hips. 

Lando’s brows furrowed together. “What? What happened?”

“Why did you two not tell us we are older brothers?” Logan asked bluntly. 

You blinked. “Huh?” 

“Why did you not tell us we are older brothers?” This time it was Oscar who spoke up. “Why are you gatekeeping our little brothers from us?” 

Lando frowned. “Is this a joke? Is that a punchline? Am I being stupid right now?” 

“We get the others on the grid but us? This is a new level of betrayal,” Logan said with a completely serious look on his face. 

You shook your head, utterly baffled by the two boys. “What the fuck are you guys on about?” 

“You have been hiding a secret family from us! You are the ones the tweets are talking about!” Oscar said as he reached for his phone, turning the screen around so you both could see the latest article. 

“WHAT?!”

“You have been keeping a secret from us. Families don’t keep secrets!” Logan accused, his eyes narrowed slightly. “If we even count as your family now.”

You gaped at them. “You seriously think that article is about us?” 

“There’s proof!” Oscar retorted.

“What fucking proof?” Lando questioned, his brows furrowed together in confusion. “How can there be proof for a family that doesn’t exist?” 

As it would turn out, the informant that had been feeding the gossip page the whole narrative had been also secretly recording conversations they had heard around the paddock. Along with the article, a series of 'leaked' audios were also released and they were, in fact, yours and Lando’s voice. 

This person had managed to record countless conversations you shared with Lando and even some other drivers—even the conversation you had with Alex the previous weekend in the Williams garage.

“Remember we have dinner with the boys tonight. Our reservations are at six.” 

“Did you remind them to put sunscreen on before they went out? I don’t want them to burn.” 

“Who knew being a parent was so hard, huh?”

“Your son is bullying my son for his accent again. Make him stop or you’re both getting grounded.”

“Well, he definitely takes after you!” 

Random lines of conversations taken completely out of context and, truthfully, you could understand why Twitter was going crazy. It seemed undoubtable that you and Lando were talking about your kids, it sounded like you truly were two parents discussing your children—if it weren’t for one large and missing piece of information.

“We were talking about you two, dumbasses!”

Both boys stared at you, blinking a few times. “Huh?”

“We are talking about the both of you in every single one of those clips,” you told them and you couldn’t help but let out a disbelieving laugh. “There is no secret family—just you two.” 

“Oh,” Oscar murmured. 

“But—oh,” Logan muttered a few seconds later.

“So this whole rumour started because somebody thought we were talking about actual kids,” Lando noted before snorting. “Fucking hell.” 

“Everyone thinks you’re a dad,” you remarked with a laugh. “The boy who has one piece of tupperware that’s hanging on for dear life.”

Lando grinned back. “Well, I may not be a dad but I am a—”

“If you call yourself daddy, I am breaking up with you.”

Lando only laughed harder. 

“So…you don’t have secret siblings you’re hiding from us?” Logan piped up, a shy smile on his face.

You shook your head.

“Oh thank god,” he breathed out, pressing a hand on his chest. “I knew you wouldn’t betray us like that! We would obviously be the first ones you tell, right?” There was a pause. “Right?”

“Well, we walked in on them almost conceiving a child,” Oscar pointed out with a shrug before his nose scrunched up in disgust. “Please don’t conceive our little sibling in front of us.”

“You were the ones that stormed in on us,” Lando retorted.

“Still.”

“Well, consider this your warning to get out in the next thirty seconds, otherwise you’re gonna see something that will really scar you—”

Your cheeks burned. “Lando!”

“What?” Lando flashed you a cheeky grin. “If they are gonna make up rumours about me being a dad, I may as well start practising for the real deal.”

You rolled your eyes.

...

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 354,762 others

landonorris does this mean i officially get the dilf status?

view all 15,866 comments

user aww cute!

user WAIT THIS IS WHO THE RUMOUR WAS ABOUT

user lando needs to pull a carlisle cullen and adopt me into the family

yourusername in my humble opinion, i think dilf suits you perfectly ;)

oscarpiastri ew

yourusername you're too young to be on instagram

logansargeant and you are too old to sexting on instagram

yourusername you're grounded

user I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS

user okay but the photos are actually so cute wtf

user THEY BECAME GRID PARENTS INSTEAD OF ACTUAL PARENTS

maxverstappen1 they had to start somewhere

danielricciardo i'm just happy the safe sex talk we gave lando actually worked. got worried for a second

yourusername you were just scared you would become a grid grandpa

danielricciardo GRANDPA???

user nothing will ever beat this rumour

user THE FACT PEOPLE ACTUALLY THOUGHT HE HAD A KID

user TWO KIDS

user FAMILY JPEG ACCOUNT WHEN

landonorris 👀👀👀

.

[moonstruckme]

hi maeee!! would you ever write reader x doctor! remus where they dated but then had a nasty break up? maybe reader shows up at the hospital and remus has to treat her and is all concerned and shocked? if not it’s okayyy i hope you’re well!! 🫶🫶

Thank you for your request sweetheart, hope you're well too!

cw: stitches, mention of blood

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 780 words

Remus opens your door with an apology on his lips. 

“Sorry about the wait, I had—” He freezes. 

You grin at him. It’s half grimace. “Hi.” 

“What…” Remus stares at you while his hand finds the wall as if on autopilot, picking up your chart. “You…you…” He skims it, but it feels like only half of his brain is working. “You hit your head?” 

You shrug, sheepish. You look unnervingly casual with dried blood caked on half of your face. “Sort of.” 

“What do you mean, sort of?” His voice pitches before he can stop it, and he pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to master himself. 

“I mean, it wasn’t on purpose,” you hedge. “I fainted first.” 

He pushes out a breath. Walks towards you. “Alright, let’s see.” 

The cut is above your eyebrow, and Remus places his hands carefully on your forehead and your jaw, lifting the gauze up to see it. Gentle, professional touches. 

“Are you experiencing any dizziness?” 

“They’ve already said I have a concussion, if that’s why you’re asking.” 

“Oh.” That was probably on the chart. He picks it up again, reading more thoroughly. “And you’ve already had anesthetic, too?” 

“That’s what they tell me.” 

Remus doesn’t mistake your buoyant tone for nonchalance. You’ve always shrouded your anxiety in smiles and good humor. To someone who knows you, it only gives you away. 

“Alright,” he says, making a conscious effort to banish his own worry from his voice. He pulls up a stool beside your bed and starts gathering his tools. “I’m just going to get set up, and then we can start. You shouldn’t feel anything at all.” He glances at you, seeing you bring your bottom lip between your teeth. “Do you know why you fainted?” 

You sigh, and it comes loose. “Yeah. Dehydration.” 

Remus looks at you sideways. “How did that happen?”

“Okay, you can put away your judgy tone,” you say, lips quirking up slightly. “I was helping a friend move into her new apartment. It’s hot out. It’s hard to tell dehydration from exhaustion when you’re carrying that much heavy stuff, you know?” 

He makes a noncommittal humming sound, but you roll your eyes like you can hear his critical thoughts anyway. “Why didn’t you take a break?” he asks. 

“I didn’t want to complain.” 

Remus huffs out a breath, amused despite himself. “You always were terrible at that.” 

“Hey.” You sound on the brink of laughter. “Terrible at what?” 

“At asking for the things you need. You’re always so worried about inconveniencing anyone you forget about yourself.” 

He lifts the gauze from your wound, wiping the area clean before readying the suture needle. You tilt your head up at his touch, a cautious, sweet sort of smile playing on your lips. When your gaze finds his, it’s like the world softens. 

“Close your eyes, sweetheart,” he tells you. The endearment aches in his throat, tender and familiar and far too intimate for whatever you are now, but if you notice you don’t show it. You close your eyes obediently. 

Remus likes to think he gives his best effort to all his patients, but he knows as he works slowly on your stitches that he’s being extra careful with you. His eyes stay on his work with laser focus, one hand splayed across your hairline to steady him. 

“Alright?” he asks you softly. 

You loose a breath, somewhat shaky. “Yeah,” you say. “You’re right, I can’t really feel anything. It’s weird.” 

“It might leave a bit of a scar,” he apologizes. “I’m trying to be as neat as I can, though.” 

Your eyes open, seeking his, but you close them again when he tsks at you. 

“That’s fine,” you say in a quiet voice. “I don’t mind if it does.” 

Remus’ breath sticks in his lungs a bit, an old memory suddenly coming to him crystal clear. You in bed, lit by moonlight coming in through the open window, tracing his scars with your fingers and your mouth. Exceedingly gentle, not because you thought you’d break him but because you wanted to be, whispering sweet words that etched themselves into his heart and never left. 

“It wouldn’t look bad on you,” he agrees. 

“Right by my eyebrow, yeah?” Even with your eyes closed, your face is still expressive, your other eyebrow lifting with the corners of your mouth. “I think it’d look pretty badass.” 

Remus has the terrible, fervent urge to kiss the skin beside that forming scar. He doesn’t know what he’s allowed, but he might just be desperate enough not to care. Maybe he’ll indulge after the stitches are done. 

“Yeah,” he says, lovelorn. “It probably would.”

[et6rnalsun]

PRANKING BOYFRIEND! MATT

your eyebrows were so close to touching the fucking ceiling as you raised them in skepticism, reading the comments written by little girls under some montages of your boyfriend hitting his brother. something like that seemed almost surreal to you, since at the beginning when you watched the unedited clip that nick had shown you, you’d just laughed like an idiot, finding it funny & just a familiar scene— unlike the fans who seemed to have taken it personally, maybe?

your manicured fingers scrolled through those comments, and you read and read until you lingered on one that stood out more than the others; babbling about how matt could perfectly be so violent and abusive in a relationship and towards his girlfriend, too. rolling your eyes, you fought the urge to answer her and simply turned off your phone, placing it next to you on the bed, matt’s one, you were lying on. the wheels in your head spun until they fabricated an idea that made you snap out of your rotting position, and you cleared your throat. “matt!” you called out in a loud voice, hoping he could hear you from downstairs.

you did it once, again, and then a third time—but to no avail. “come on,” you whined in a huff, taking the phone again as you went to emergency calls, “my love 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨⭐️” glowing red and first. you called his number, humming softly as the sound of the ringing vibrated in your ear where you had the screen resting.

when he answered, you smiled, your feet kicking at the sound of his soft and soothing voice, so tired from making dinner for you & his brothers. “matt, can you come up to your room please? i need to talk to you.” you already expected matt’s heartbeat and anxiety to be at a thousand at your statement. in fact, not even a minute later, he was already in the room as he approached after closing the door. “what is it, baby?” he asked you, tilting his head as he looked down at you. he stood over your prone form, and as he did, he placed his hands on the corners of your body, lowering his head slightly to kiss your lips as a sort of greeting. you wanted to give up on everything just because of the way his cold necklace was dangling on your neck, brushing against it.

dramatically, you pushed him away as you sat on the bed and looked at him with the most serious expression you could muster. “i’m for real, we need to talk”

matt frowned, sitting down next to you as he rested a hand on your knee — one way or another, he was always searching physical touch with you. it was melting your heart. “did i do somethin? tell me, honestly, i have no idea” he was in a state of mild panic, it was rare to see you so serious and offended by something. (even if it was all fake) “i didn’t like how you hit nick” these words made him roll his eyes in the sassiest way ever, and he raised a finger that you immediately slapped, continuing to talk. “i’m not kiddin’! what if you hit me like that too?” that was your joke; making him believe that you were seriously worried about something that in reality, you never could.

“you cant be serious”

“i am” you shrugged, looking at how his blue and pretty eyes widened.

silence filled the room for a moment, and he shook his head repeatedly as he took his hand off your knee. “how can you be serious, actually? that— that just means you don’t know shit about me,” his tone was hurt, and he moved to stand up as he looked ready to put an end to whatever that shit was.

but before he could get far, you stood up and practically jumped on his shoulders, your arms around his neck as you hugged him so tight, like he was about to disappear. “love, baby, light of my life, it was a joke,” you quickly told him, your head tilted so you could look directly at his face from your position. he was clearly confused as fuck. “i saw all this shit in the comments on a tiktok ‘bout you hittin nick and i wanted to do this. come on, forgive me,” you added, kissing his cheek lightly as an amused chuckled escaped your lips. and, you were fucked. from behind, he pushed you onto the bed before turning around and throwing himself on top of you, tickling you to death. “you havin fun playin with me like this, huh? really?” he said, a smile playing on his lips as he watched you squirm with the most beautiful laugh in the world. even if he should be angry and everything. “you are a bad person, fuck. the worst”

that said a lot about the kind of person your boyfriend was.

[mapis-putellas]

𝑺𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒕 /𝑨.𝑷𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒔

Training had been brutal. The jet lag you’d brought back from international duty wasn’t helping either, leaving you sluggish and irritable. But the worst part of the morning wasn’t even the laps you’d had to run as punishment for being late—it was why you were late in the first place.

Alexia.

She had a habit of teasing you about your height. At first, it had been cute. She’d hide your water bottle on top of the fridge or stick your favorite snacks on the highest shelf in the pantry, grinning as you stubbornly tried to reach them without asking for her help. She’d swoop in eventually, laughing when you huffed in frustration, her playful kisses softening your annoyance.

But today, she’d gone too far.

Your boots—your training boots that you needed right at this very second—had mysteriously disappeared. You’d searched high and low, every corner of the apartment, only to find them stuffed on top of the wardrobe, well out of reach. By the time you’d dragged a chair over to retrieve them, you’d been late enough to catch the attention of the coaching staff. They hadn’t cared about your excuse and sentenced you to laps, which your jet-lagged body had protested against the entire time.

By the time you got home, you were fuming.

Alexia was lounging on the couch, scrolling through her phone like she didn’t have a care in the world. When you walked in, she glanced up, her face lighting up with an innocent smile. “Hola, amor,” she said, her accent curling around the words.

You didn’t respond right away, tossing your bag onto the floor with more force than necessary. Her smile faltered, her brow furrowing in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, sitting up.

“You,” you snapped, pulling off your jacket. “You’re what’s wrong, Alexia.”

Her eyes widened. “What? What did I do?”

“You hid my boots,” you said, turning to glare at her. “On top of the goddamn wardrobe.”

Alexia bit her lip, her expression caught between guilt and amusement. “Ah,” she murmured, clearly trying not to laugh.

“Don’t ‘ah’ me,” you said, pointing at her. “Because of you, I was late, and I had to run laps this morning. Laps, Alexia. After getting less than two hours of sleep last night.”

Her lips twitched like she wanted to apologize but couldn’t help finding it funny. “I didn’t think—”

“That’s right, you didn’t think,” you interrupted, crossing your arms. “But you can most certainly think about it tonight. On the couch.”

Her eyes widened further. “The couch?” She splutters in disbelief.

“Yes, the couch,” you said firmly, heading for the bedroom. “And don’t even think about pouting your way out of this one, Alexia Putellas, because it’s not going to work!”

“Amorrrrr!”

*

True to your word, when bedtime rolled around, Alexia was banished to the couch. She tried everything, soft smiles, whispered apologies, lingering kisses on your cheek and offers of a massage, but you stood your ground. You shut the bedroom door with a finality that left no room for negotiation.

It was two in the morning when you heard it: the soft creak of the bedroom door.

Your eyes fluttered open to see Alexia shuffling into the room, her blonde hair slightly messy, her expression hesitant. She moved quietly, or at least she thought she did, but the scrape of her socked foot against the floor was enough to wake you fully.

You propped yourself up on one elbow, glaring at her in the dim light. “Seriously?”

Alexia froze like a child caught sneaking into the kitchen for a midnight snack. “Amor,” she whispered, her voice thick with sleep and something else—vulnerability.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your tone unimpressed.

She hesitated, shifting from foot to foot. “I can’t sleep,” she admitted softly.

Your glare softened, though you kept your expression stern. “You’ve been out there for five hours. Have you slept at all?”

She shook her head, her blonde hair falling into her face.

You sighed, running a hand over your face. You wanted to stay mad—you really did—but the sight of her standing there, looking small and hesitant, chipped away at your resolve.

“Come here,” you said, pulling back the blanket and holding out your arm.

Alexia didn’t need to be told twice. She climbed into bed, curling up against you like a lost puppy. Her head rested on your chest, and you felt her let out a deep, shaky breath as your arms wrapped around her.

“Still not off the hook,” you muttered, your fingers brushing through her hair.

“I know,” she whispered, her voice muffled against your shirt.

You let the silence settle around you, her warmth pressing into you as her breathing slowed. Her hand found yours, her fingers threading through yours like they always did when she needed comfort.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured after a long moment. “I didn’t mean to make you late.”

You sighed again, leaning down to press a kiss to her hair. “I know, Lex. Just… maybe stop hiding my stuff, okay? You’ve made your point about the height difference.”

She nodded, tightening her grip on you. “Lo siento, amor.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, though your hand continued its soothing motion in her hair. “You owe me, though. Big time.”

Her lips curved into a small smile against your chest. “Okay. Anything you want.”

**

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan

[puckstories]

Forever ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Quinn Hughes

Pairing; Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warning(s); Reader is mentioned having curly hair/wearing glasses. Fluff. Kinda cringe but it’s a proposal so I’d consider that acceptable (: Established relationship. Not edited.

Summary; Quinn proposes

Word Count; 2k

Author’s note; Didn’t realize this is my second fic that takes place on the living room sofa, but it’s written so I’ll just dump it here. Would love to hear your thoughts if you have any + reblogs are appreciated. -Honey

Quinn had been captivated by you from the very first time you said his name. There was something about the way it fell from your lips—soft and velvety, with a subtle rasp that sent a shiver down his spine. It wasn’t just the sound of your voice; it was the way you spoke to him, with a warmth that wrapped around his heart like a favorite song. Every time you said his name, it made his chest tighten, his pulse quicken. And you said it often.

You didn’t rely on the usual pet names his past girlfriends had favored—sweet nothings like "baby" or "babe." No, you chose his name, always. When you called for him, it was, “Quinn, can you grab this?” or “Quinn, come here.” When you told him you loved him, you didn’t let the words hang abstract in the air. You made them personal: “I love you, Quinn.” Each syllable was deliberate, an anchor tying you to him.

It wasn’t long before he realized he couldn’t get enough of it. Just six months into your relationship, his mind began wandering toward something far bigger. He found himself daydreaming about the future—your shared future. He pictured you standing across from him, framed by flowers and sunlight, saying his name again, but this time in wedding vows that would bind you together forever. The thought of hearing you say, “I do,” in front of your friends and family was enough to leave him breathless.

You hadn’t just made him feel loved—you’d made him feel seen, known, and completely yours.

“Quinn.” Your voice cuts through his wandering thoughts, pulling him sharply back into the present. It’s not loud, but it carries—a perfect mix of warmth and clarity that only you could manage. He blinks, momentarily disoriented, before his gaze finds you.

There you are, a vision that steals his breath all over again. He can hardly believe his luck—that he gets to see you like this, so at ease, so unencumbered, and utterly captivating. You’re seated at the kitchen table, papers scattered around you in a casual chaos as you focus on grading. The soft, golden hue from the overhead light bathes you in a warm glow, making you look almost otherworldly.

His lips twist into a small smile, like he hasn’t already seen your outfit today—though, of course, he has. Worn sweatpants, and his old UMICH shirt, the one you stole and now practically live in while at home. Your curly hair is piled into a loose bun, and your glasses sit low on your nose.

It had been two months since he’d first thought about proposing—two months of tucking that desire away, hiding it behind everyday moments and careful smiles. He’d never been in this deep with a woman before. The idea of marriage had always felt like something distant, meant for other people. But now? Now it sat in the back of his mind like a quiet ache, present in every thought, in every small moment with you. Eight months together. Was that long enough? Was it too soon? He wasn’t sure. The last thing he wanted was to scare you off, to move faster than you were ready for, and somehow ruin this thing between you. It terrified him, the possibility of misstepping, of losing you. But it also terrified him to wait, to let too much time pass and risk you thinking he didn’t see forever with you.

These thoughts came and went, like tides he couldn’t stop. But it was moments like this—simple, domestic, and probably boring to anyone else—that hit him hardest.

"Earth to Quinn." Your voice rings out again, light and teasing, amusement flickering between your brows.

Quinn blinks, startled back to the moment, and clears his throat as though shaking off the thoughts had stolen him away once more. His gaze refocuses on you, a small, sheepish smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah, baby. What is it?"

"You okay?" You ask, tilting your head. "I can hear your brain working all the way over here."

"Just zoned out." He says, with a dismissing shake of his head. He leans back against the armrest, running a hand through his hair to push it out of his face. "Yeah, just zoned out," he confirms, his voice low and a little distracted. "Sorry. Just... thinking about a few things."

You study him for a moment, noticing the way his teeth graze his bottom lip, and the way his hand lingers in his hair, like it’s searching for something to hold onto. You nod. "Wanna talk about it?"

His expression softens, the quiet earnestness of the question reaching into the place where that familiar ache still lingers. Almost instinctively, his hand stretches toward you—palm open, a silent invitation. He hesitates for just a breath, his fingers curling slightly as though unsure if he should follow through, before he nods. "C'mere a sec?"

You slide your glasses off and set them on the table, the quiet clink barely audible in the stillness of the room. Pushing back your chair, you cross the small space to Quinn. He’s waiting, his arms already lifting to pull you close the second you’re within reach. He tugs you down into his lap with an ease that feels like second nature, his thighs shifting apart instinctively to make room for you.

The moment you settle against him, his arms wrap tightly around your waist, and he buries his face against the curve of your neck. You feel the faint warmth of his breath on your skin as he exhales a deep sigh. The soft, sweet scent of you—the one he’s come to think of as home—floods his senses, easing some of the tension in his chest.

He pulls away, and leans his head back against the couch. For a moment, he just looks at you, his gaze lingering as though trying to memorize every detail, even though he knows he already has. The soft slope of your nose. The curve of your mouth. That small, almost invisible freckle just beneath your bottom lip—the one he always kisses when the warmth in his chest gets the better of him. His throat tightens, and he swallows hard, a nervous flutter building in his chest.

“What is it, Quinn?”

He takes a deep breath, his fingers brushing over your hips in gentle, absent strokes, the movement more reflex than thought. The rhythm steadies him, but only just. His mind churns, the weight of what he wants to say pressing hard against his chest. This is it, he thinks. He can’t hold it in any longer—the waiting, the second-guessing, the holding back. It’s all become unbearable. Whatever happens next, he has to let this out.

“Just thinking about us,” he begins, his voice quiet but steady. “Our relationship. How much I care about you. How lucky I feel to have you like this.” He pauses for a moment, like testing the ground beneath him before taking another step forward. “It’s been on my mind a lot lately.”

Your lips curve into a soft smile, the kind that makes him feel like gravity tilts toward you. "Yeah?" you say, your voice gentle, encouraging.

“Yeah,” he replies, barely above a murmur. His throat feels tight, his pulse hammering beneath his ribs, but he keeps his gaze locked on you. There’s something grounding about the way you look at him—like you’re holding the door open for him, not rushing him, just waiting. It gives him enough courage to keep going. “It’s just…” He exhales, his breath light and shallow. “You mean so much to me. More than I think I’ve been able to say out loud. And I keep thinking about what it would be like to make this permanent. To have this—us—be something that lasts forever.”

Your breathing hitches, the words catching you off guard, your chest tightening as his meaning begins to settle over you. Your eyes widen slightly, searching his face, and you can see it there—devotion, hope, and just the faintest hint of nerves. Your heart skips, and it feels like the entire room is holding its breath alongside you.

Quinn’s hands shift from your waist, moving up with slow, deliberate care. His fingers trace the curve of your cheek, brushing softly along your skin, his thumbs lingering just below your cheekbones. “Marry me?” he asks, the words soft, almost reverent, yet steady and sure in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. It’s not a question tossed lightly into the air; it’s a truth he’s been holding onto, waiting for the right moment to share.

Your lips part, but for a second, no sound comes out. “M-Marry you?” The words tumble out unevenly, caught between shock and something else—something overwhelming and impossibly warm blooming in your chest.

“I want forever with you, baby,” he says, pausing for a moment before speaking again. "I know this is a shitty proposal, we're both at home in our pajamas, and I don't even have a ring yet, I just...I don't want to wait anymore. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life loving and taking care of you."

You swallow hard, your heart racing. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and a tremulous smile starts to curve your lips. “You… you want me forever?” The words are quiet, as though testing them out, wrapping your mind around the enormity of what he’s offering.

His lips twitch into a soft, almost shy smile, his forehead resting against yours now. “Forever and then some,” he murmurs. “If you’ll have me.”

A sudden, uncontrollable squeal escapes your lips, the kind you might have been embarrassed about in any other moment. But here, it feels perfect—pure, unfiltered joy. Before you can stop yourself, you’re leaning in, your lips crashing against his in a burst of energy and love. The kiss is messy, hurried, but it’s full of all the things you can’t quite put into words.

Quinn smiles against your lips, his arms wrapping tightly around you as he leans back against the sofa, taking you with him. The movement is unhurried this time, deliberate, as though he’s savoring every second. His hands settle firmly at your back, holding you close, like he never wants to let go. The kiss deepens briefly, his lips moving softly against yours, before the two of you finally break apart, breathless but smiling.

Your forehead comes to rest against his, your eyes fluttering closed for just a moment. His breath mingles with yours, warm and steady, and his thumbs brush tenderly along your sides as though grounding himself in the moment. You press your hands to his chest, feeling the rhythmic pounding of his heart, and it feels like it matches the erratic beat of your own.

“Yes,” you whisper, the word spilling out of you before you even realize it. Then it comes again, louder, stronger. “Yes, yes, Quinn. Yes!” The words are wrapped in laughter, your voice trembling with happiness.

Quinn exhales a shaky breath, relief and joy flooding his expression. His hands slide to your waist, his grip firm and steady, as his eyes meet yours. They’re shining now, soft but full of something deeper, something that makes your chest feel impossibly full. “Yeah?” he murmurs, his voice low and quiet, as though still needing confirmation, still needing to hear the word from you one more time.

“Yeah,” you say, grinning so wide your cheeks ache. “Forever, Quinn. I want forever with you, too.”

His lips curve into a broad, radiant smile—the kind that makes him look younger, freer, like every weight he’s been carrying has fallen away. He lets out a quiet laugh, the sound rumbling through his chest. “You don’t know how much I needed to hear that,” he says softly, his thumb brushing along your cheek now. “You’ve just made me the happiest man alive, you know that?”

Tears prick your eyes, your laughter softening into something quieter, more emotional. You reach for his face, your fingers brushing against the rough stubble on his jaw. “I think we just made each other the happiest people alive.”

[daechwitatamic]

What are the Vibes? || CSC

(banner and title by @sailorrhansol lol thanks bestie)

What are the Vibes? Seungcheol x afab!reader || pwp || established relationship kind of implied NSFW - minors DNI

wc: 1.2k warnings: language, kissing, fingering (f. receiving), vibrator use (f. receiving), piv sex, bossy seungcheol makes a frustrating rule in bed but it's all in fun

summary: Seungcheol always gives you what you need. Today, he's gonna make you ask for it first.

author's note: once every two years i blink and a pwp appears. this one is a gift to hali, who writes what i ask for every time and deserves to receive nice things too <3 the babygirl is just for you, babygirl. ily and thank you for typo check!!!! <3

Straight into smut, so putting the whole thing below a read more!

When Seungcheol presses your favorite purple vibrator against your already nearly-shaky fingers, your intuition sparks, warning you that you’re in for it. Maybe it isn’t intuition. Maybe you just know him - know what kind of mood he’s in from the set of his jaw and the flash in his eyes.

You’re already one round in; he’s already made you come on his fingers once and then again on his cock, your ankles on his shoulders. You were ready for him to come deep inside you, leaning over you far enough to make your hamstrings sting with the stretch, but he’d backed away, slipped out of you, left you whining and empty.

“You do it,” he tells you, as your fingers close around the silicone. “Give yourself one for me.”

He stretched out next to you, stroking himself lazily, like it didn’t bother him at all to stop in the middle. You’re caught for a second on all his rounded places - the swell of his shoulder, his biceps flexing as he works his cock slowly, the rise of his cheek with that smirk that means trouble, the ass that could launch a thousand ships.

“Go on,” he tells you, and you take a shuddering breath as your thumb finds the familiar button by muscle memory. The first setting barely registers - you’re already overstimulated and it just feels like the physical representation of noise when you’re going to need a melody if you’re going to come like this. But when you dip the fingers of your spare hand towards your opening, already sore in the best way and still messy and slick from earlier, Seungcheol’s hand whips out and grabs your wrist lightning-quick.

“Nope,” he murmurs darkly, rolling so he’s halfway over you. He releases your wrist and uses his new proximity to kiss you sweetly, lingering lovingly, at odds with his entire demeanor. When his lips leave yours, he whispers, “Outside only. Inside is mine.”

You let out a huff - part frustration, part amusement. But Seungcheol doesn’t often play games like this with you, and it’s thrilling in its novelty. You obey, sliding the toy closer to your clit, trying to work yourself back up slowly. Satisfied and trusting you to follow his rules - whims, really - Seungcheol moves back to his spot next to you, eyes combing over your prone body.

You try all your normal tricks, but long minutes pass and while it feels good you can tell it’s not climbing - the pleasure isn’t tightening or spooling or triggering that snap that you always know is a warning sign. You huff again, this time all frustration. It isn’t going to happen - not with only external stimulation.

“What is it?” Seungcheol asks, low, and there’s something teasing in it. It’s like he expected this, and now he’s pleased to be right.

“I can’t,” you complain. “I need…” You trail off, shy, even after all this time.

He knows what you need. He’s going to make you say it anyway. He waits you out, like a saint with all the patience in the world.

“Need you,” you try pitifully, hoping he’ll let you get away with it.

“I’m here,” he says innocently, and you make a noise of complaint, nudging at his shins with your toes in protest. His smile grows; he’s enjoying teasing you.

“You know what I mean,” you protest. The toy buzzes valiantly in your hand, but you’re barely even pressing it against yourself anymore - it isn’t doing much for you at this point. Your body knows what it wants. Nothing but Seungcheol will do.

“I guess if you want something, you’ll have to ask for it,” he pretends to muse, trying to fight off a satisfied smile.

You whine wordlessly, frustrated. “Seungcheol,” you scold.

His smile only grows, dimples deepening. “What do you need, babygirl?”

You want to stomp your feet and bang your fists in protest. “I need you, please, this isn’t enough - I’m not gonna -”

“What do you need?” he asks again. You nearly sob with frustration; it’s clear he won’t be giving you anything unless you ask.

Frustration and desperation dance together behind your ribs, and you hear yourself beg, “Anything, Cheol, even a finger, please - just something, I need you.”

This must be the magic phrase that Seungcheol needed to hear today, I need you, because his smile splits across his face. “Just a finger?” he teases, but he’s circling the tip of his pointer around your spasming hole and it’s already six billion times better than it was a second ago, your body responding with a hearty clench and a new rush of fluid. “That’s all you want? Are you sure?”

“I mean,” you gulp, trying to breathe at your body chases that tantalizing fingertip, hips canting like you might catch him off-guard and slip him inside, “That’s not all I want, but if that’s all you want to give me right now, then I’ll take it.”

He coos annoyingly, but rolls closer, pushing that single digit into your heat. It’s barely anything but your eyes nearly roll back just from sheer relief - this is what your body wanted, this is what it will take to push you over the edge.

“That’s not all I want to give you,” he promises, barely louder than a whisper, and then adds a second finger, wasting no time in curling them into that spot on your front wall that he knows so well.

It takes only seconds for your body to respond, clamping down on his fingers, the muddled buzzing from the vibrator suddenly coming into perfect focus - sharp and targeted. You hear yourself wail, but the room’s gone fuzzy as his fingers piston into the spot that keeps your muscles clenched for so long that you think you sail right past a first orgasm straight into a second one. You click off the vibrator and toss it to the side, reveling in the feel of his fingers stroking along your sensitive walls, pushing lightly against that spot that makes your toes curl.

Seungcheol whispers praises into your ear, fingers finally slowing, ending with a nearly-awed, “You just got so wet.”

You can feel it, inside and out, but the orgasm has chased away any shyness and now you can finally say what you mean:

“Hurry up,” you tell him, tugging at his arms to get him in motion faster. “Get up here and fuck me.”

He lets out a sound that’s partly a laugh and partly disbelief, but he doesn’t hesitate at all before rolling over top of you and pressing his tip against your entrance, pushing to the hilt slowly but without pause. When he bottoms out, a soft sound of satisfaction rumbling from his chest, you clutch at him, holding tight to his shoulders, wanting to keep him here - right where you wanted him all along.

He nips at your jaw playfully before pulling nearly all the way out, then sheathing himself smoothly once again.

“Yes, please, just like that,” you breathe, eyes fluttering closed.

He gives you a devilish smile and repeats the motion. “All you had to do was ask,” he says with a grin.

--

thank you for reading!!

[extinctlesspains]

hii love, could you do a jun-ho x f!reader fic? where they work together to search his brother and their feelings for each other grows more and more, and they find out that he is the front man and line send him to jail and in the end they celebrate? :)) like smut but if you’re not comfortable you can do something suggestive? 😋 thank you and happy new year !! 💕💕

𝐽𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐿𝑢𝑠𝑡 [𝐻. 𝐽𝑢𝑛-𝐻𝑜]

.・。.・゜✭・

.・。.・゜✭・

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ: ʏᴇs ᴏʀ ɴᴏ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʜᴡᴀɴɢ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: sᴜɢɢᴇsᴛɪᴠᴇ!

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴅᴇᴛᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇs ʜᴡᴀɴɢ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴏ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪs ᴘᴀʀᴛɴᴇʀ ɢʀᴏᴡ ᴄʟᴏsᴇʀ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ɪɴғɪʟᴛʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴀ ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ɢᴀᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ғɪɴᴅ ʜɪs ᴍɪssɪɴɢ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛᴏ ᴅɪsᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜɪs ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ɪs ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴜᴛʜʟᴇss ғʀᴏɴᴛ ᴍᴀɴ. ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ᴀ ᴛᴇɴsᴇ ᴄᴏɴғʀᴏɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛᴜᴀʟ ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴜʀᴇ, ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀᴀᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʜᴀʀᴅ-ᴡᴏɴ ᴠɪᴄᴛᴏʀʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏғ ᴠᴜʟɴᴇʀᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴇᴇᴘᴇɴs ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʙᴏɴᴅ ᴀɴᴅ sᴏʟɪᴅɪғɪᴇs ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.

ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs: ɢᴜɴ, ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴋɪssɪɴɢ, ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ, ᴅʀɪɴᴋɪɴɢ, ɪɴᴛᴏxɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, sʟɪɢʜᴛ sᴍᴜᴛ.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　

Detective Hwang Jun-ho wasn’t accustomed to working with a partner. He preferred his solitude, his thoughts unhindered by anyone else’s opinions. But this case—the mysterious disappearance of his brother, Hwang In-ho—was different. The connections to the games and the elite network behind them were too vast for him to tackle alone, and so you were brought in.

At first, you were an unlikely pair. He was quiet, brooding, and single-minded, while you were sharp-tongued, witty, and unafraid to challenge him. “Are you sure you can handle this?” he had asked during your first briefing, his tone laced with skepticism.

“Only if you can keep up,” you’d fired back, earning a rare flicker of amusement in his otherwise stoic expression.

The case demanded long hours and relentless digging. Together, you traced clues that led to the games: missing persons reports, offshore accounts, and whispers of a sinister organization operating in the shadows. Late nights in the precinct turned into early mornings poring over files in his cramped apartment.

It was during these quiet hours that something began to shift.

One evening, you caught him staring at a faded photograph of his brother. The raw pain in his eyes made you pause. Gently, you placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll find him,” you said softly.

He didn’t reply, but the way he glanced at you—a flicker of gratitude breaking through his hardened exterior—said enough.

Then the time came when you both decided to infiltrate the games, a risk so great that it could cost you your lives. The plan was simple on paper: disguise yourselves as staff and gather evidence from the inside. The reality, however, was far more harrowing.

The days in the compound were suffocating. The guards’ watchful eyes, the screams of the players, and the twisted nature of the games weighed heavily on both of you. Despite the danger, you found solace in each other.

You would whisper late at night in the staff quarters, sharing quiet moments of reprieve. When the tension became too much, he would find your hand behind the closed doors, his fingers brushing yours in fleeting touches that spoke volumes.

It was during one of these moments that he finally opened up about his brother. “In-ho was always the smarter one,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “I never thought he could be part of something like this.”

“You’re not alone in this, Jun-ho,” you said, meeting his gaze. “We’ll figure it out together.”

And for the first time in years, he didn’t feel alone.

The truth unraveled during a high-stakes chase. A lead had pointed you to an underground control room, where you found surveillance footage linking the games to the masked figure known as the Front Man. But it wasn’t until you came face to face with him during a violent confrontation in the compound’s main hall that the devastating truth came to light.

The Front Man removed his mask, revealing the face Jun-ho had longed to see—and dreaded finding.

“In-ho?” Jun-ho’s voice cracked, disbelief written all over his face.

“It’s not what you think,” In-ho replied coldly, his eyes devoid of the warmth Jun-ho remembered.

You stood frozen, torn between stepping back to let them talk and stepping forward to protect Jun-ho. The exchange escalated quickly, words turning to blows as Jun-ho demanded answers.

In-ho’s betrayal cut deeper than any physical wound. You barely managed to pull Jun-ho away as guards stormed in, your cover blown.

“We need to go!” you yelled, dragging him through the chaos.

But Jun-ho wasn’t ready to let his brother go, not yet.

It wasn’t until weeks later, after regrouping and securing more evidence, that you cornered In-ho in an abandoned warehouse. The confrontation was tense, a standoff filled with equal parts anger and heartbreak.

“In-ho, this isn’t you!” Jun-ho shouted, his gun trained on his brother.

In-ho laughed bitterly. “You don’t understand, Jun-ho. This is survival. You wouldn’t have lasted a day in my position.”

The standoff ended with In-ho in handcuffs, his mask discarded on the floor. Jun-ho was silent as he watched his brother being escorted away, his expression a mix of relief and grief.

Months later, with the case closed and the organization dismantled, you found yourself back in Jun-ho’s apartment. The bottle of soju between you was half-empty, and the weight of the past seemed lighter for the first time.

“You did it,” you said, nudging him playfully. “You actually smiled in the precinct today. I thought they’d have to call an ambulance.”

He chuckled softly, a sound so rare it made your heart flutter. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Your eyes met, the unspoken tension between you finally breaking free. Slowly, he leaned closer, his hand brushing your cheek.

“Jun-ho…” you whispered, but whatever you were about to say was lost as his lips captured yours.

The kiss was everything you’d imagined—slow, deliberate, and filled with months of unspoken emotions. When you pulled back, breathless, his forehead rested against yours.

“You drive me crazy,” he murmured, a rare smile tugging at his lips.

“Good,” you teased, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Someone has to keep you on your toes.”

With a scoff, he drew you back into a kiss. This time it was more rough, filled with desire and lust. The taste of soju lingered on his tongue as he pushed his way into your mouth. His broad and muscular body towered over you, topping you on his couch.

"And someone has to keep your bratty mouth in check..." He whispered rasply as he pulled away. His long, calloused, fingers had a grip on your chin. "You're lucky I've kept my cool around you and haven't let myself loose."

You could feel the heat rise, the need for him escalating in an unhealthy way. Here you were, pinned on his couch. His knee pressed against your core and his lips not far from yours.

"Maybe I want you to set yourself loose." You whispered back. It was dangerous but you wanted him. No, you needed him.

With a slight smirk, Jun-Ho kissed your lips again. It was rough, fast, and needy. His hands scrambled to your shirt, immediately tossing up to kiss your torso.

You were in for a long night, but you couldn't complain. After all, you asked for it.

[shanastoryteller]

The day his deal comes due, Sam goes missing.

Dean tells himself it’s nothing, that he’s gotten caught up in some research, some last ditch, hail mary nonsense and that he’s just turned his phone off and everything’s fine, that he wouldn’t do something stupid, that he wouldn’t break his promise.

He tells himself that for the first two minutes after he cracks his eyes open and sees the empty bed across from him, and the first time his call goes straight to voicemail, and not much after that. Sam’s broken his promises over things significantly less important to him than his brother’s life.

Dean is dressed and in the Impala five minutes later, heart thudding wildly in his chest. He calls Bobby, Ellen, everyone he can think of, but none of them have heard from Sam, none of them have eyes on him. Sam was with him last night, even if he boosted a car, there’s only so far he can get.

He keeps calling, keep searching, desperate to stop whatever he’s trying to do, to find him, to see his brother one last time before he’s dragged to hell. To make sure Sam is going to be okay after he’s dragged to hell. But the hours tick down, the sun sets, and he can’t find a trace of him. He’s so exhausted and heart sick that when he goes to call Sam again it takes him a long time to read the number on his phone, eyes swimming, the time not making any sense.

1:03

That’s not possible.

That’s not –

His phone rings, blocking out the time with Bobby’s name across the screen, and he answers it but his throat is too thick to say anything.

“Dean?” Bobby says tentatively. “Are you – I got an email from Sam. It just said, I mean, did–“

“What did it say, Bobby?” he asks, even though he’s sure he knows.

Bobby sucks in a breath at his voice, because he knows just as well as Dean that he should be screaming in hell right now, not answering his phone. “To take care of you.”

Dean drops the phone, hears Bobby still talking as he grips the wheel and presses his forehead against the back of his hands. This is what he’d been afraid of. This is why he hadn’t wanted to mess with the deal in first place. This is the one thing he’d begged Sam not to do.

It's easy to find a crossroad.

The demon is laughing at him when it shows up, wicked grin in a pretty face. “That didn’t take you long, boy.”

It’s a different demon than the one he delt with, obviously, but Dean figures they all know the same shit, since demons are a bunch of gossips. “This wasn’t the deal. My brother lives and I die.”

“You traded your soul for your brother’s life,” she corrects, so amused by all this that all he wants to do is kill her, to exorcise her, to make her scream. “Just like your father traded his for yours. There’s no reason Sammy can’t make his own trade. Man, but is your family fucked up. Maybe if you’d just settled down like little Sammy wanted, you wouldn’t all be bargaining for each other’s lives like haggling at a flea market.”

“Untrade it,” he snaps. “My soul for him alive, come on, no year, no waiting, you bring him back and take me to hell right now.”

She laughs in his face. “You don’t have anything to bargain with, boy.”

“My soul,” he repeats, “That’s what this is about, isn’t?”

“Oh, it’s what it’s all about,” she says. “But Sammy’s a clever boy. You know that, don’t you? He didn’t trade his soul for your life, he didn’t have to. You didn’t die. No, he traded it for your soul. Sorry, honey, but your credits been declined.”

At first he doesn’t understand. Sam traded his soul for Dean’s, exactly, so there’s no reason he can’t trade it right back. Then he gets it.

She sees the exact moment it clicks, the moment despair and horror sweep across his face too quickly for him to stop them. “That’s right. Little brother owns your soul now. For some reason he didn’t think you’d take proper care of it. You have it because that’s where he wants it, but no one will be making any deals with you, Dean Winchester. You can’t sell a soul you don’t own.”

“You can’t,” he has to clear his throat, “you can’t just come in and change things at the eleventh hour-”

“Eleventh hour?” she interrupts. “Sammy made his deal eleven months ago.”

His mouth is so dry he can’t speak.

“Isn’t it funny?” she asks, head cocked to the side. “All this time, the deal he’s been trying to get out of wasn’t yours, but his own. Maybe the two of you might have even managed it, except you just wouldn’t help, would you? Insisting that he not research, that he not look for a way out, and he spent so much time trying to convince you, coaxing you to talk about your feelings when he knew you were safe, all he because he thought it would make you feel better when he was gone, because he couldn’t tell you the truth and talk about how scared he was, so talking about your fear was as close as he could get.”

Dean’s going to be sick. “Don’t – please, please, I’ll give you anything-”

“You don’t have anything,” she says, gleeful. “You want to know why I agreed? The thing that made it just too delicious to refuse? Sammy’s down there, just starting in on an eternity of torture, and all he has to do get out of it is give up your soul. It’s his, after all, and he can put the original deal back in place any time he chooses. Just one moment of weakness on his end and his beloved big brother will be on the rack instead.” She sighs happily. “It’s almost as good as anything we’re doing to him down there, the knowledge that if he slips up for even a moment then it would all be for nothing. I couldn’t have found a way to twist the knife deeper if I tried.”

There’s vomit crawling its way up his throat and he has to swallow it down before he can speak. “I can’t – I’ll do whatever you want, please, there has to be something.”

She leans forward, cruelty and delight shining in her eyes. “The only thing you can do is what you’ve been telling your precious baby brother to do for the past year. Accept it. Move on. Live a good life so his sacrifice isn’t in vain.”

God. How can she – how can Sammy expect him to –

He’s doubling over, finally upchucking what little he’s ate today, and he’s dry heaving on the dirt when he hears the fading sound of her laughter.

This can’t be real. This has to be Hell, he has to be in it right now. He has to be.

[pastryfication]

I love ur fics ❤️ can you do an Oscar x reader fic where she can’t find Oscar in the paddock and is panicking and goes to lando for help x

i'm here but i'm lost in crowd

pairing: oscar piastri x reader note: you guys seem to really love platonic lando lol so here's another one <3 also i’m sorry i somehow misread your request to reader getting lost and not losing oscar…

the united states grands prix were by far the most chaotic races of the season. normally, you didn’t prioritise them—the time-zones messed with your sleep schedule, the amount of spectators became overwhelming, and oscar had so many media duties that he barely had time for you, so why spend precious days off when you could use them on less crowded grands prix?—but you had time off either way, so on a 20 hour flight to the other side of the world you were.

you tried to stay close to kim as you arrived at the paddock. he was the person on oscar’s team who you knew and trusted the most, and he was more than happy to let you tag along to his duties, but eventually, he had to go to a meeting, and then you had to find somewhere else to go.

at first, you decided to stay in the hospitality area, too afraid of getting lost to wander about, but it quickly started to bore you. there were no familiar faces, and you grew tired of sitting alone in a corner.

walking outside the mclaren building, you were immediately met with the rush of people walking around you. the air was full of excitement and anticipation—the usual on a race weekend—and you couldn’t help but smile. this was why you wanted to come to as many races as possible; you absolutely loved the atmosphere.

smiling, you walked through the paddock, waving to fans when they noticed you, stopping briefly to say hi to engineers and other mclaren personnel as you passed them, and before you knew it, you found yourself in a completely unfamiliar place.

you looked around, realising just how disoriented you were. the hum of the paddock, which had initially filled you with excitement, now felt like an overwhelming blur. faces passed by too quickly to register, people walking around everywhere and your heart started to race as the nagging feeling grew—where were you?

the crowds seemed to move faster now, making you feel even more isolated. the rush of people, the sounds of chatter and excitement, the bright texas sun bearing down—it all added to the growing panic in your chest. you tried to retrace your steps in your mind, thinking back to how you'd ended up here, but the more you thought about it, the more it seemed like you’d wandered too far. you could feel your throat tightening as you scanned the sea of unfamiliar faces. why hadn’t you just stayed in the mclaren hospitality?

you reached for your phone, intending to send an SOS to someone from the team, but your pockets were empty. had you really been stupid enough to forget your phone?

as the realisation that you really were alone settled in your body, you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. you could do this. you’d been to enough races by now to find your way back, right?

but no matter how much you told yourself that, the panic only grew. what if you walked the wrong way and ended up even further from where you were supposed to be? what if you bumped into the wrong crowd and caused a scene? the paddock suddenly felt more intimidating than exciting, the noise drowning out your thoughts, leaving you frozen in place.

just as you felt yourself spiraling, a voice broke through the chaos.

“hey!” a voice called out your name. “what are you doing out here alone?"

you spun around so fast that you nearly stumbled, heart pounding in your chest as your eyes landed on the familiar face of lando norris. relief flooded through you so intensely that for a second, you couldn’t even form words. lando was standing just a few feet away, his helmet under one arm, a slightly confused but amused look on his face. he took a step closer, raising an eyebrow as he glanced around.

“pretty far from mclaren territory, aren’t you?” he teased, though his tone was light, and there was a softness in his eyes when he looked back at you.

you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “i don’t even know how it happened. i was fine, just walking around, and then all of a sudden, nothing looked familiar anymore. and now i just—” you trailed off, feeling a little ridiculous for admitting how overwhelmed you were.

lando’s expression softened when he noticed the genuine worry in your eyes. “hey, it’s alright,” he said, his voice gentle now. “it happens to the best of us. this place can be a maze if you’re not paying attention. if i had a dollar for every time someone got lost in this paddock, i’d have… well, probably enough to buy a few extra helmets.” he smiled when you laughed at his words, glancing around, as if to get his bearings, before his eyes landed back on you. “come on, i’ll walk you back before oscar starts a search party.”

you let out a breath of relief, feeling the tension in your chest loosen just a little. “thanks, lando.”

“don’t mention it,” he replied with a wink. “besides, it’s not every day i get to play the hero.”

you rolled your eyes shaking your head slightly, and as you continued walking through the paddock, the surroundings began to look more familiar. with lando’s easy-going presence beside you, the fear that had gripped you earlier seemed almost ridiculous now.

“you know,” he said after a few moments of walking in companionable silence, “i think oscar might owe me for this one. saving his girlfriend from the wild paddock? that’s gotta be worth at least a couple free dinners, right?”

you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound of it surprising even yourself. “i’ll make sure he knows just how heroic you’ve been today.”

lando smirked, glancing sideways at you. “good. i expect a full report.” there was a moment of silence before he continued. “honestly, though,” lando continued, glancing at you, “if you miss someone to hang out with, you should just stick with me more often. i’ll make sure you never get lost again.

“thank you, lan.” you smiled earnestly up at him.

as you neared the mclaren building, the bustling crowd became more familiar, and the sight of papaya clad engineers and personnel milling around instantly brought a sense of comfort. you exhaled, feeling the last remnants of anxiety melt away.

“here we are,” lando announced grandly, gesturing toward the motorhome. “safe and sound, thanks to your friendly neighborhood norris.”

you shook your head, a laugh escaping you. “i really appreciate it, lando. seriously.”

“anytime,” he replied, grinning widely. “i’ll always be happy to help.”

[katsukistofu]

ikea meatballs before marriage?

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ touya todoroki x fem reader. fluff. cursing. slightly suggestive. ⭑ your fiancé and you get a little too into playing house when you’re supposed to be furniture shopping for your new apartment.

“you’re home early.” touya smirks. an apron you’re ninety-nine percent sure he stole from the aisle showcasing the ovens with ‘i cook as good as i look’ printed on it is tied around his waist.

“i’m home!” you say cheerfully, playing along with him. 

you take a moment to study “your” kitchen and droop in disappointment. 

it was a bit too dim for your liking, the lighting.

there’s no way you could read the recipe books rei had gifted you without touya having to stand there and hold a flashlight while you did.

but the deep forest green accented cabinets, reaching all the way to the ceiling, were beautiful.

perfect for storing fuyumi’s leftover snacks that her students gifted her yesterday.

she had complained to you over the phone about how there was no space at home since all the cupboards were full of soba noodles, courtesy of your fiancé and little brother-in-law.

touya nervously watches, until he sees as you visibly brighten up, and he lets a little huff out, half in pride, half in relief. 

he knew his pick couldn’t be that bad.

then you spot the fake plant hanging from overhead, and grimace as you see a cluster of even more potted plants under it near the toaster. 

cute in theory, but definitely a fire hazard.

touya notices the little way your eyebrows furrow with doubt, and casually leans against the edge of the sink to distract you from making any more keen observations. 

you giggle at the way he almost knocks off the price tag on it in the process, too busy staring at you to bother noticing. 

“how was work?” your favorite fire hazard asks, reaching out a hand to gently brush a stray lash you didn’t notice from your cheek. 

your face always feels hotter than usual when touya pulls away, even after all this time.

“ugh, so exhausting,” you fan yourself a bit, let out an exaggerated sigh. “the printer blew up and got toner all over my clothes, can you believe it?”

“aw.” there’s a playful sparkle in his eyes as touya innocently frowns in sugary sweet sympathy. “want me to run a bath for you later?”

you can feel your cheeks start to burn. you just took one with him yesterday!

but of course you find yourself stuttering out, “oh, um sure.” 

the memory of his fingers softly massaging your scalp as he helped you wash your hair. the gentlest of touches on your skin as he lathered you in suds, pressing a kiss to your forehead between rinses flood back to you. 

you remember trying to wash his hair one time, but he quickly stopped you by trapping you in his lap, insisting that he wanted to do yours first. like he does during every bath he runs for you when you stay over at the todoroki house.

and he would take just as good care of you, your heart knows, in your cozy new apartment that was waiting for you back in shizuoka too. 

not too far from home, so that everyone could still visit, but not too close either, so the both of you had your own space.

touya grins as a shy expression suddenly crosses over your face, knowing exactly what you’re thinking about. 

with amusement, he watches as you reach over to set your purse on the white marble counter. 

a pair of strong hands claim their usual spot on your waist, holding you in place, and then you’re pulled away until your back bumps against a familiar, firm chest.

“uh-uh, mrs. todoroki.” he murmurs softly in your ear. “i just cleaned that for you before you got home.”

your breath catches. mrs. todoroki?  

“my bad,” is all you can manage to squeak out.

his nose tickles your cheek in response and you giggle at the feeling of his piercings, cold and soothing against your warm skin.

“so. what do you want for dinner today?” touya says, leaning over you to open the fridge. he scans its empty contents with a face so serious that you have to bite back a laugh. 

“what do we have?”

“stale air—i mean,” touya coughs. “uh, salad.”

“that’s it? just salad?” you point an accusatory finger at him, and he snorts at the way you force your eyebrows to scrunch together to make an angry face. so cute.

“oh, you think this is funny? take that apron off right now, you big phony.” 

“yes ma’am.” he laughs airily, reaching behind him to undo the tie when his hands stop. 

touya turns to you with a pout. “can you do it for me? my fingers hurt from cooking and cleaning all day.”

he makes it so hard to stay mad at him, even as a joke. 

you bite your lip to suppress the fond grin growing on your face, but it's too late, touya’s already seen it and he knows you’ll give into him soon enough.

“aw, my poor husband all alone in the house, cooking air and salad. it must’ve been so hard for you.”

he pouts even more. “it really was.”

the giggle you’ve been holding back finally spills from your mouth. he was ridiculous, and you loved him for it. “okay you big baby, i’ll untie it for you.” you move to stand behind him, hands reaching for the back of his waist to untie the neat bow he did for himself earlier.

“i think you mean your big strong husband.” touya leans his weight back into you. 

not enough to hurt you or make you fall, but just enough to give you a hard time undoing the knot of his apron. 

“sewing machine was acting up like crazy today, had to teach it some manners.”

“i’m sure you did.” you fight back another laugh, which turns into a whine as his broad back leans into your face even more. 

“touya stop it! do you want this apron off of you or not?”

you can practically hear him smirk from in front of you.

“i’m okay with anything as long as it keeps your hands on me.”

you step away from him and he lets out a ‘oof!’ as his back thuds against the hard floor of the ikea showroom, taking down a fake plant with him.

touya is donning a new apron when the two of you find yourselves outside of another kitchen showroom. 

“‘relax, i’ll feed you bitches.’ it read in bold. 

you giggle hysterically as he stands there, hands on his hips and looking way too proud of his find, as you snap a pic to send to the groupchat with his siblings.

i’d rather eat poison, natsuo texts back. 

his message is hearted by fuyumi and shoto a few moments later. 

a miffed touya reaches over your shoulder to steal your phone, which you easily let go of and surrender like usual with a laugh.

 his chin rests on your head, your back pressed to his chest as he perches his upper arms on your shoulders to text back. 

after he hits send with a satisfied smirk, the both of you walk onto the set.

the kitchen this time was one with a less colorful theme, yet you hear a sharp intake of breath from touya and you feel your own breath catch in your throat.

the tall windows and generous lighting more than made up for it. 

framed paintings of cranes were hung on the slate gray wall behind the dining table, and the refrigerator was much, much larger than the one you saw touya open before.

familiar indigo petals catch your eye. there was a beautiful painting of rindou flowers next to the window in the kitchen, and you can’t help but stare.

“mom would love those.” touya murmurs from beside you. your fingers lace through his as you smile softly in agreement. 

“she would.”

still in the second showroom, touya’s rummaging inside the cabinets while you study the spice rack. 

imagine all the goodies you could fit in there, from sesame seeds to shichimi togarashi.

you drool thinking about all the miso soups and sweet potatoes you could put them on when he suddenly turns to you.

“i’ve been working on my cocktails while you were at work, by the way.” touya grins, handing you an empty, plastic wine glass from where you’re perched on the granite countertop. “wanna try?”

you raise it to your lips and take a delicate sip of nothing. 

“oh yum! what’d you put in it?”

“kale juice.” he snickers behind his hand. “your favorite.”

you make a disgusted face. “well that’d explain the kick to it.”

“right? i really, really think fuyumi and natsuo would like it.”

“touya todoroki, don’t you dare.”

“hey.” he raises both hands in innocence. “a little kale never hurt anyone.”

“you say that but you hate kale.”

“a little kale never hurt anyone unless it’s me.”

you roll your eyes and wrap your arms around his neck. touya’s hands smoothly guide your legs to hug his waist, bringing you closer to him from where you’re sitting on the counter. he stays standing, towering over you. 

“can’t believe i’m marrying a hypocrite.” your voice is muffled against his shoulder, and he laughs.

suddenly, you gasp and point at the sink. “touya!”

his eyes widen at your raised voice, instinctively looking behind him for bugs to kill because that’s the only time your tone would sound that alarmed.

touya hugs you closer to him protectively. 

you can’t help but melt as his arms wrap even tighter around you, his serious turquoise eyes still scanning around the kitchen for any threats to you.

no bugs. 

no tacky “live, laugh, love”-esque sayings framed on the wall.

which he knows is your biggest interior design pet peeve after binging an insane amount of those house flipping shows with you.

“...what is it?” touya finally asks after a moment of hesitation. 

you giggle at the ticklish feeling of the cold silver of his lip piercing brushing against your forehead as he speaks.

“the dishes aren’t in alphabetical order!”

touya breathes a sigh of relief, then laughs into your neck. 

he pulls away to roll his eyes at you. “you nearly gave me a fucking heart attack!”

“what, why?” you laugh, fluttering your lashes at him. so utterly adorable, that he resists the urge to bite you.

touya fights back a blush and averts his eyes from your face, remembering his protective actions. they had been purely instinctive. he reaches up to cover his face with one hand.

“touuu!” you can’t help but laugh harder, reaching up to pry his fingers away from his face. “come on, look at me!”

touya shyly slides his gaze back to you, and lets you take his hand away from his face. 

you lace your fingers through his and lean in to give him a sweet kiss on the lips, which only makes him blush even harder. the chill of the ikea air conditioning did nothing to help.

his eyes trail in the direction of the spice rack you were dreamily looking at earlier.

“why is this crooked?” he frowns, reaching behind you to straighten it.

“pfft is it bothering you?” you take a glance at it. looked okay enough to you.

“yeah it is.” touya’s hands are on the shelf, trying to readjust it into the right position when suddenly—

snap!

the both of your eyes widen at the sound. 

the shelf was upright and more centered than before. 

except now it had a clean split down the middle of it.

of course, touya chooses to focus on the most important part.

“well at least it looks better now.”

and all he can think about as you laugh into his shoulder is that he can’t wait to stand hip to hip with you in your actual kitchen. 

sunshine peeking through the curtains as the two of you make soups, bake each other’s favorite pastries, and indulge in your random middle of the night cravings.

from now until forever.

after lunch in the restaurant, touya adds ikea meatballs to his list of favorite foods. 

you’re pretty sure that’s only because you fed them to him. 

because while you adore him to pieces, he is an unbelievably picky eater, much to fuyumi’s chagrin. 

luckily, he’ll eat anything as long as you’re the one giving it to him.

your sister-in-law thanks you for her lack of headaches when she makes dinner.

in the third kitchen showroom of today, you squint out the window behind the sink.

“i don’t know if i like it.”

“don’t know if you like what?” touya’s still washing his hand in the imaginary water under the faucet that’s clearly never going to start running. his silly self has been there for the past five minutes, at least. 

you hold back a laugh at how meticulous he is about it.

“the view.” 

he looks up and snorts at the wistful gaze you throw out the obviously fake window. 

it had a picture of city scenery taped on the wall outside of it, and the circular shape of a familiar building catches his eye. he recognizes it.

the meguro sky garden in tokyo.

the first place he ever took you out on a date to.

with a fond twitch of his lips, he remembers the way he almost tripped over his feet under the cherry blossom trees when you had suddenly pecked him on the cheek. all those years ago.

touya turns the faucet off, and comes up behind you to lean his head on your shoulder as he wraps his arms around your waist. his eyes soften as you nuzzle against his chin. 

he knows that you know he can’t feel any sensations there anymore. 

but god, does touya love that you still touch him in the places where he can’t feel. 

the way you litter soft kisses under his eyes, stroke his forearms as you guide them to your waist. like they’re still a part of him, like he’s not broken.

like he’s always been whole to you, never any less. 

“but sweetheart,” touya muses. “think about how close it's close to the best schools.”

your face heats up as you realize what he’s talking about. like you haven’t thought about it a million times before.

a kid. with him.

his and your kid.

as if the universe read your mind, a very chubby baby being pushed in a cart passes by the opposite side of the window, covering the picture of tokyo’s scenery.

and it stares at touya and you with the judgiest look you’ve ever seen in your life.

the two of you glance sideways at each other and burst out laughing. 

“nevermind,” you giggle, feeling small and safe tucked in his strong arms. “maybe the view isn’t so bad.”

looking softly down at you, the beautiful color of your eyes meets his, and his heartbeat quickens.

touya can’t help but agree.

a familiar weight softly rests on your shoulder when you groggily open your eyes, and your fiancé is close to follow as he stirs beside you.

you flip around to face him from where he was spooning you, giggling at the little trail of drool coming from the corner of his mouth as you watch his eyes flutter open.

you feel your breath catch in your throat as you gaze upon him.

his hair is starlight in the morning.

touya, still half-asleep, snuggles against you, completely drunk on your warmth. the soft feeling of your skin against his. 

he doesn’t even try to resist it.

the little giddy smile that tugs at his lips whenever the cool feeling silver of your sapphire embedded ring sparkles under the sunlight pooling through the curtains of your shared bedroom as he laces his fingers through yours.

his own ring softly clinking against the one he gave you.

after moving into the privacy of the apartment, with no prying eyes or nosy siblings randomly bursting into his room, touya loves to sleep with his lips just barely grazing your neck.

whenever you wake up from a  nightmare, he’s already kissing the nape of it, the protective hand he has on your hip smoothing circles into your bare skin.

when he wakes from his, you’re already quietly cradling him in your arms, running your hands through his midnight black hair. 

you really have no idea how hard you make it for him to get up.

but the idea of seeing you happily smile because of him is what gives him the final push to wriggle out of your embrace, and the adorable little pout you give him  almost breaks his heart.

“where you going, tou?”

he grins cheekily, placing a finger on his lips. “it’s a secret.”

there's a grumble from you in response and he smooths the crinkle between your furrowed brows with a gentle kiss.

“i’'ll be back soon, i promise.”

“you better or i’m eating your last pocky.”

he laughs at your threat, as if he wouldn’t give it up to you the moment you asked.

at the sight of your eyes already starting to droop, touya presses another kiss to your forehead. “go back to sleep, sweetheart.”

“no.” you pout as his socks pad against the floor when he leaves the room with another laugh. 

huddled up in your floral patterned blankets, you drink in the faint scent of sweet cologne that lingers on them. 

it still smells like him. warm like him, too.

there’s an old photo of touya framed on your nightstand. you love to look at when you fold his and your clothes. 

rei had slipped it out of the family album for you to keep the moment she saw how much you liked it. 

it’s the one where he’s holding a baby shoto like a football in his arms. there’s an easy grin on his face.

you look at it for a little longer, letting a sleepy, content smile spread across your lips. 

until five more minutes pass, and you’re starting to feel impatient.

“shoto!” you call out the doorway in the direction of the guest room you set up for him the day before he came to visit. “what’s your brother doing?”

“cooking.” comes shoto’s soft voice floating down the hallway.

and that’s all it takes for you to get up and rush to the kitchen at lightning speed.

thankfully, the fire alarm hasn’t gone off yet by the time you get there. 

you find touya slicing peaches on the counter, in front of the painting of rindou flowers. there’s a plate of neatly assorted fruit next to him, and your eyes widen as you admire the rose-shaped strawberries. how’d he do that?

“hey.” touya’s eyes narrow playfully when he notices you, putting down the knife. “you’re supposed to be in bed.”

you place your hands on your hips. 

“and you’re supposed to not be burning our new apartment down.” 

throwing a cautious glance at the unmanned pancakes sizzling in the pan beside you, you add on. “with your little brother in it.”

he breathes a laugh and saunters over where you’re standing by the fridge, cornering you to the counter. 

your fiancé grins at your stammers when he leans closer. he can practically feel the heat from your cheeks from here, and touya thinks the tiny house plant overhead grows an inch taller from the sheer warmth you’re radiating.

“stove’s off, sweetheart. they’re not gonna burn.”

“o-oh.” you sigh in relief.

“you worry too much.” touya murmurs softly as holds you in place by the waist to hold up a spoonful of blueberries he forgot to add to the batter. 

your lips reluctantly part to let him feed you, and his heart skips a beat at the hint of a smile on your face.

“mmph!”

suddenly, touya’s lips are on yours and you taste the sweet tartness of the peach he must’ve had before you came over. 

the cold piercing of his tongue teases your mouth and he corners you even further against the cool marble of the counter to make out, just as you hear a pot start to boil and your eyes snap open. 

you’re breathless as you muster all your willpower and break away from him.

“touya, the pot!” 

“oops.” he glances at it, still caging you against the counter with his arms. 

“forgot about that.”

“found your necklace that fell behind the bed last week.” touya says later after breakfast. you’re both sitting on cushions fuyumi and natsuo gifted you at the coffee table in front of the tv, watching ponyo as sunlight seeps into the living room.

it swings it back and forth on his finger and your eyes widen in relief.

“i was looking everywhere for that to wear to shoto’s class party!” 

“i know.” he grins, and you sigh as he presses a soft kiss to your neck. of course he did. 

touya reaches around your neck to securely clasp the back of the necklace’s chain, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“i think i deserve a little reward.”

you giggle, he was so cute.

“thanks touya.” you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and he pouts.

“not there.” 

“where then?” you smooth your hands against his bedhead and he almost whines when this time, you press a kiss to his forehead. “here?” 

always such a tease, and he adores you for it. 

touya looks like a desperate puppy as he huffs, nudging your nose with his. 

like you didn’t spoil him with kisses yesterday when he fixed the washing machine that was acting up.

you’re still not totally sure how he did it, but that was probably because you zoned out while he was explaining it to you. 

too busy watching the way his forearms flexed as he fixed the pipes behind it and when he’d take whatever wrench or screwdriver he asked you to hand him from the toolbox.

finally, finally your lips find his and you kiss him, soft and sweet.

a cool breeze blows through the open window, and the both of you breathe it in, smelling dewdrops on grass from the rain last night and hints of sunshine. 

touya smiles against your mouth, arms pulling you into his lap so he can taste you better.

you’re stuck with him. 

from now until forever.

“or maybe home is just two arms wrapped around you when you’re at your worst.”

— danagray

[reilemon]

🍬Tight Spot🐈‍

♡︎ synopsis: Zayne puts you in a tight spot (broom closet).

♡︎ pairing: Zayne x fem!reader

⭒˗ˏˋ𓆩 ⚠ 𓆪ˎˊ˗⭒MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)⭒˗ˏˋ𓆩 ⚠ 𓆪ˎˊ˗⭒

♡︎ cw: established relationship, brat taming -ish, semi-public seggs, oral (m!receiving)

♡︎ word count: 1.1k

♡︎ a/n: the first story for kinktober 2024

♡︎ Thank you to my dearest friend and my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for helping.

♡︎ taglist: @stellablobboo @luna-usagi-chan @lunaryasha @momnomnom @howvoiceless @ladyparamount

divider by @cafekitsune

Your voice gets stuck in your throat when Zayne's large hands plant themselves on the wall behind you. You never expected him to pull you into a broom closet like that.

His eyes take in the stunned look on your face, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. "Isn't this what you wanted, some alone time with me?"

"Zayne, we're at a party, there’s people right outside!"

"Is that so?" You pick up the hint of red wine on his breath as he leans closer to your face. "I thought it didn't matter to you."

You swallow thickly.

It wasn't unusual for you to get a little handsy with Zayne when you were in public, especially at parties, where the crowd allowed you to be sneakier. Tonight was the same. The two of you attended Dr Greyson's birthday party at his new home. Zayne looked so handsome and his cologne was intoxicating, so of course you'd graze your butt "accidentally" against the front of his pants, your hands would sneak too far up his thigh... just innocent playing to get him riled up. Then later, at home, he'd teach you a lesson.

You bat your eyelashes at him, your hands resting on his neck, "Do you wanna go back to my place?"

Zayne chuckles. Your eyes widen when he grabs you by the wrists and holds them with one hand above your head. "It's too early for us to leave the party."

His lips lock with yours into a searing kiss while his free hand slips under your skirt and pulls your underwear aside. He swallows your yelp as he slides his finger slides over your slit.

He smirks against your lips "Going around and talking to my colleagues when your pussy is so wet?" His words make you flush, but more slick comes out. "Such a dirty girl." He whispers before taking your lips again.

You moan into the kiss as his middle and ring finger glide between you wet folds, getting coated in your juices. One finger slides inside with ease, soon followed by the second. Zayne's long, skilled fingers start moving and curling, grazing that sweet spot inside of you, making your eyes roll back. It’s getting impossible to hold back your moans, even with Zayne's lips on yours.

A whimper escapes your lips when his thumb starts grazing your clit.

His movements halt "You need to be quiet, angel. Can you do that for me?" You can only nod in response. He finally releases your hands to grab you by the back of your neck, "Good girl." Instead of helping you keep quiet with kissing you, he finds pleasure, and a little amusement, in watching your pretty face contort in pleasure and struggle to contain your sweet voice.

Your release quickly builds in your core as his fingers start moving again, now quicker, with his thumb pressing and rubbing your needy clit. There's no way you can keep quiet in this broom closet. Most of the people are mingling in the kitchen or the living room and the music is loud, but you know if anyone was nearby, they would hear the moans you're failing to stifle.

He can feel your walls starting to clamp around his fingers, but he stops his movements again, earning a frustrated whine from you.

You glare at him, about to protest for teasing you so much, but he tuts and grabs your chin with his thumb and index finger "Behave."

Zayne grins when he feels your pussy flutter at the word. He takes in the sight of your beautiful eyes, before spinning you around, your chest now pressed against the wall. In swift and smooth motions, he releases his thick cock, the tip is angry red, leaking precum. He needed to bury it inside you before he even dragged you into this closet. He didn't plan on this - fucking you inside of his colleague's broom closet - but your wet pussy and intoxicating moans made all the blood in his body rush to his dick. He needs you now.

He rests his hand over your lips and you grab onto it as you feel his tip enter you. His thick cock stretches you, making your leg muscles tremble.

Zayne leans forward as he bottoms out, his breath tickling your ear "That's right, just stay quiet." He rasps, gritting his teeth as he starts moving his hips. Your teasing had him pent up the whole evening, and thanks to the one glass of wine, he feels like he won't last long.

Zayne's cock sliding in and out of your dripping pussy, his balls slapping your swollen clit - you're on the brink as well. You lock your gaze with his, your teary doe eyes are enough for him to know you're close.

"Are you going to behave for the rest of the night?"

You nod frantically, desperate for your release. You let out a small squeal against his hand when he finally touches your clit - his ragged breathing and erratic thrusting sending you over the edge. The waves of pleasure hit you hard, causing your body to glisten with sweat, your legs trembling with the effort to stand. Zayne fucks you through your high, and you can feel his length throb inside you.

You barely hear him say something along the lines 'make a mess' before he pulls out, spins you around and gently pushes you down. On your knees, you know exactly what he meant, eagerly opening your mouth and taking in his cock. You taste your essence mixed with his precum on his thick cock, your tongue grazing over bulging veins. Zayne rests his hand on your head as he starts moving his hips, brows knitted and jaw slack as you relax your throat letting him use your mouth, eyes fixed on him. He pants 'good girl' and 'so good for me' in a daze before his hips jerk, cock pulsing as his release slides down your throat.

After taking every last drop, he pulls out of your mouth and you can breathe again. Zayne pulls you up, helping you stand on your feet.

With a soft smile, he wipes away runaway tears off the corners of your eyes and presses a kiss to your forehead "Are you okay?"

You smile back and snuggle your cheek against his warm palm "I am."

You help each other look presentable again, or rather as presentable as possible, before exiting. Zayne goes out first and you follow a few steps behind. You said you're going to behave for the rest of the night, but Zayne needed to extend his lesson on what happens to girls who misbehave. The two of you left the party within fifteen minutes.

[jetblack4realz]

a bicycle - jacaerys velaryon

modern!jacaerys is low key a weakness of mine, i love him

word count: 7.2k

______________________________________________________________

it was an average day for you, walking around uni with your headphones placed over your ears and your phone in your hand. you'd finally finished your last class for the day - history of old valyria - and you were so entirely ready to just get home, heat up some leftovers, and be done with the week. it was a friday, meaning you could finally rest for the weekend, well, once you finished homework. but, that was future you's problem - for tonight, you would chill.

you looked around carefully, checking both sides before you crossed the pathway to the other side of campus drive towards where the apartments were. you'd been lucky enough to secure one with your two best friends - alysanne and baela. it was only a short walk from campus, newly built, 2 bedrooms, 2 bath, and perfect for the lot of you.

"hey, watch out!"

you shrieked as you jerked to the side, nearly getting sideswiped by an oncoming bicycle. you hit the pavement roughly, landing flat on your butt as you watched the boy riding the bike finally come to a stop next to you, his eyes wide and his breathing ragged. he suddenly realized that you were on the floor and quickly dismounted the vehicle, tossing it onto the sidewalk and leaning to pull you up and oit of the way.

"are you alright?" he asked as he held your arms, brows raised nearly to his hairline. "i am so sorry, i wasn't paying attention and-"

"that much was evident," you told him, brows knitted in an unimpressed stare. "this the first time you rode a bike?"

his brows furrowed and he hesitated. "well, no-"

"do you not know how to stop?"

he let out an exasperated breath, a light laugh on his lips as he answered, "yes, i do, but-"

"hold on," you said, holding a hand up as you raised your brows at him. "so, you've ridden a bike and you know how to stop?"

he rolled his eyes. "yes."

"this is a freak accident then," you hummed, an amused smile pulling at you lips as he shifted his weight onto one foot, a hand combing through his hair. "i am so sorry that your bike betrayed you like that."

"yes, it's quite tragic. paid a lot for it and yet it refuses to listen to me," he answered, seeming to finally find your responses the slightest bit amusing as a smile began pulling at one corner of his mouth. "what's your name?"

you pulled your backpack onto your shoulder once more, shooting him a goofy smile. "well, i don't think i can tell you with the bike still around. it'll remember and then i'll never be safe."

"yes, i've noticed it does that," he chuckled. he tilted his head as he peered at you, his curls bouncing around his shoulders as his smile grew. "no, seriously. what's your name?"

"y/n," you answered, returning his smile more genuinely now. "y/n baratheon."

"well, y/n baratheon," he began. "i am terribly sorry that my bike attacked you. i promise it'll never happen again; he's going through training right now."

"good, get that thing under control," you said with a breathy laugh. you nodded at him. "what's your name?"

"jacaerys," he told you. "or jace, really."

"wait - jacaerys strong?" you asked, brows raising again. he breathed a laugh.

"yeah," he said slowly. "why?"

"what are you doing riding a bicycle?" you asked, quirking a brow at him.

"what do you mean?"

"i mean i've been shown pictures of your new mercedes by i swear like fifty people. the whole school knows about your new ride - why aren't you driving it?"

"i like my bike," he answered with a shrug, glancing back at the discarded, well-used thing. "easy to get back and forth from my place to here - it's not too far."

"where are you at?" you asked curiously, smiling at the boy. the more you talked to him, the cuter you realized he was.

"over in the north wall apartments," he said, nodding in the direction of said building. "i share one with cregan stark."

"oh, i love cregan!" you cheered with a smile. "we had like three of our gen-eds together freshman year. he was the only one who ever actually did group work with me."

"well, would you maybe want to come over and hang out sometime then?" he tried, his smile both hesitant and charming. "i'm sure he'd love to see you."

"i'm pretty sure my friend alysanne would kill me if i did," you chuckled. "she's been in love with him since freshman year - if she knew i went to his apartment without her i'd never make it."

"bring her," he answered with a shrug. "here, i'll get your number and text you. we can watch a movie or do dinner or something."

he gestured for your phone and your heart jumped as you handed it to him, the contacts tab open. he typed in his name and number and texted himself something before handing it back to you with a soft smile.

"sounds good," you breathed out, smiling back at him gently. "it was good to meet you, jace. thanks for not actually hitting me with your bike."

"anytime," he chuckled. "i promise to never get that close again."

"good," you answered, stepping back as he picked the bicycle up again. you held your hand up for a small wave. "i guess i'll see you around?"

"definitely," he answered as he got back on the bike. "bye, y/n."

"bye jace," you answered, turning to walk down the steps to the next street. you glanced back as he rode off, a blush coating your cheeks before you rushed off to your apartment.

"alys!" you exclaimed, dropping your backpack in your room before going to her and baela's door, pounding on it repeatedly. you heard a loud groan before the brunette girl finally pulled her door open, an expectant look on her face.

"what?" she asked, brows raised.

"i just got you a hangout with cregan stark," you breathed out, a grin wide on your lips.

she didn't answer immediately, her mouth falling open in shock. she shook her head, looking at you intently. "i'm sorry - what?"

"on my way home i almost got ran over by his roommate jacaerys strong - you know, baela's rich stepbrother who's captain of the football team with cregan? well, apparently they're roommates too and he invited me over and i mentioned you and he said then me and you should come over to do dinner or a movie or maybe both, i don't know, but isn't this exciting?!" you rambled, grabbing her by the shoulders with a wide smile.

"alysanne, say thank you, this is your dream!" baela called from behind her, a knowing smile on her lips as she chuckled. you glanced at the girl reading on her bed, smiling widely.

"thank you," alys breathed out in an almost dazed manner. then, she snapped back to it, eyes wide as she stared at you. "when? today? what am i gonna wear-?"

"not today," you laughed, shaking your head. "i don't know when, he hasn't texted me, but i'll let you know and we will find you the perfect outfit, okay?"

"okay," she nodded. "you better tell me as soon as he texts you."

"cross my heart," you said, doing the motion over your chest.

you were doing your homework only an hour later when your phone buzzed, its screen lighting up on your desk. your heart jumped when you saw it was from 'jace 🚲', immediately unlocking it to see what he said.

-how does next friday sound?

"aly!" you yelled. you heard some shuffling before she called back.

"what?"

"does next friday work?"

"uh, yeah!"

"ok!"

you smiled at your screen, waiting a few moments before typing out a response.

next friday works! what time?

three little dots bubbled on the screen as he began to answer you and you anxiously awaited for them to turn into a fully fledged blue text box.

-how about 7? we can do pizza and popcorn and a movie

"aly! 7?!"

"sure!"

sounds great! see you then

you leaned back in your chair with a content sigh. your phone buzzed again and you looked at it lazily, expecting to see a text mirroring your own. you sat up quickly when it didn't.

-actually, i had something else to ask

you didn't reply, seeing him begin to type again, so instead you waited anxiously for his continuation. what else would he have to ask you?

-there's a party tonight at my cousin's house and i was wondering if you wanted to go with me?

your eyes widened and so did your smile, typing back a response quickly.

what time?

-i can pick you up at 8:30?

okay then, i'll send you my address

"oh my gods," you breathed out, laughing lightly. "baela!"

"what?" she called back, seeming to be in the kitchen.

"i need your help to pick out an outfit! i'm going to a party with jace!" you yelled and she was at your door in a second, throwing it open with raised brows and a mischievous grin.

"are we gonna be sisters soon?" she teased.

"baela," you laughed.

"i'm just kidding, he's barely my stepbrother anyways," she hummed, crossing to your closet and pulling the doors open. she began rifling through your various tops and dresses. "but, i'm just saying that you met him two hours ago and now you're hanging out twice this weekend? i mean, what if this party goes terribly wrong and you don't want to see him next week?"

"then i go purely for alysanne and deal with it later," you said with a roll of your eyes. "but, i don't think it'll go wrong. he seems sweet."

"he is... to an extent," she hummed, pulling out a pair of light wash, ripped jeans and throwing them on your bed. they seemed freshly washed and ironed, but you'd completely forgotten about them.

"what do you mean by that? should i not go?" you asked with knitted brows.

"no, you should," she affirmed with a nod, offering you a quick smile before continuing her search for a top. "he's a really good guy. he just seems to hate my dad and so i've seen him be not so sweet."

"i mean, your dad has been known to say some wild things," you breathed out with a laugh.

"no, he's actually been really careful of what he's said around the boys," she answered almost absentmindedly, finding a bandeau top with a strap that went over your neck. It was cute, but you also hadn't worn it in forever. "i don't know. their relationship is not my problem. here, you'd look hot in this, jace would die."

"well, i don't want him to die," you said with a chuckle as you stood and grabbed the top, holding it up. you grimaced, looking at the girl nervously. "you don't think this is too revealing? and it's like, october - i don't wanna be cold."

"jace will bring a jacket," she insisted with a smirk. "at least, i hope. then you can wear his. it's a perfect plan."

"you sure?" you asked.

"i'm sure. i'll turn on the curling iron and aly will do your makeup, you put that on and your converse to go with. we'll get you all dolled up by - what time is he picking you up?" she asked.

"8:30," you answered.

"oh, easy!" she cheered. "okay, hurry up!"

she shut the door to your room and you quickly pulled on the outfit. as you looked in the mirror, even with your hair still in the messy bun that friday classes brought on and your makeup halfway ruined from the day, you thought you did look hot. it was a good feeling.

"y/n!"

"coming!"

you had just finished spitting out your mouthwash when the doorbell rang. alys and baela were at the doorway to the bathroom, grinning as they nodded to the door.

"have fun," alys said in a sing-song tone.

"you look hot," baela told you. "drop dead gorgeous. don't let him kiss you yet."

"thank you and no promises," you hummed with a laugh as you passed them and crossed to the door, your phone in your pocket. "i'm not bringing my keys so let me in when i get home, okay?"

"you got it babe," alys said. you nodded and took a breath before pulling the door open.

the first thing you noticed is that he was, in fact, wearing a jacket. a leather one at that. it was an oversized thing with big buttons and stitched pockets that resembled almost more of a blazer, but you kind of loved it. paired with a white henley, basic jeans, and black nikes, he looked damn good.

it seemed like he thought the same of you, his eyes finally returning to your own as a light blush covered his cheeks.

"you're beautiful," he told you with a smile. you blushed at the words, noting how he didn't just say that you looked good or looked pretty - but you are beautiful. what boy says that?

"thank you," you said, smiling softly. "you're really handsome."

"thank you," he answered, smiling more openly now. he held out his arm. "you ready?"

"yeah, let's go," you said, taking his arm gratefully and shutting the door behind you.

you decided that jacaerys strong was the sweetest boy you'd ever met, holding every door open for you, including the car door, giving you aux but turning it down enough to keep conversation with you, and keeping your arm in his when you guys finally entered the party, pulling you out of the way of clumsy drunks.

a few boys stopped jace on your way through the house, yelling loudly something you couldn't understand over the music. jace laughed loudly, his touch to your arm gentle but secure, glancing over at you briefly before answering the group of boys.

"won't be by monday," he laughed, earning a series of giggles from the boys opposite you. he nodded along with them for a few moments before excusing the two of you and continuing along.

"who was that?" you asked.

"a few guys from my team. asked something about getting better at the drills, don't really know, they were really drunk, but i guess i answered right," he chuckled.

"guess so," you laughed.

"do you want a drink?" he asked, one hand hovering over the small of your back as he guided you towards the drinks table.

"do you think there's one that's nonalcoholic?" you asked, glancing back at him before peering at the punch table. he grimaced as you stopped in front of it.

"i doubt it," he mumbled. "why? do you not drink?"

you shrugged. "not regularly. i'm usually the dd."

"well, i'm the dd tonight, so if you'd like to you're welcome," he offered, gesturing to the beers in a small bucket at the end of the table. "or if not, that's totally fine too. whatever you want."

it was funny how he was so confidence and yet still nervous. it was endearing.

"maybe one or two, but i'm a bit of a lightweight," you chuckled.

"i'm not one to judge," he said with a smile, hands up in insistence.

"oh, sure," you laughed as you popped open a beer. "like you can't handle your drinks."

"okay, maybe i gave the wrong impression," he said with a chuckle. "i can hold my own."

"as you should," you giggled, taking a sip of the beer as he looked over you to where some people were sitting around bonfires in the backyard. he grabbed your hand and began to pull you towards them before hesitating, looking back at you.

"is this okay?" he asked, squeezing your hand. you smiled at the boy.

"yeah," you assured, squeezing it back. he grinned and dragged you to where a few of his friends were calling his name, you giggling behind him.

when he held the door for you next, his jacket was over your shoulders, both of you exhausted from the night's activities. you'd been coerced into a few games of pool, of which you surprised him with your expert abilities. he showed you up in darts, and then you both wrecked cregan and aegon in a ping pong battle. needless to say, it was a freaking huge house with a lot to do and it was a lot of fun.

"thanks for tonight," you said when he started driving, his hand resting on the middle console ready for the taking. he smiled as you did, squeezing it softly.

"of course. i figured if we were going to be setting up our best friends we should at least be familiar, right?" he asked, shooting you a goofy grin.

"true. and i suppose this is recompense for you almost killing me on your bike," you hummed, letting out a soft giggle as he shot you an offended look.

"i did not almost kill you. you fell, and that's my bad, but you're fine," he said. he paused for a moment, glancing between the road and you before finally settling his gaze on the street. "so, if tonight is my official apology, what should next weekend be?"

you hesitated, a smile growing on your lips. you looked at him carefully. "well, a cute boy and a cute girl hanging out, having dinner, and watching a movie while trying to set up their friends... i guess, if only for the sake of alysanne and cregan, we have to call it a double date."

"right," he nodded, trying to hide his smile behind pursed lips. "if only for them."

"of course."

"and me."

you looked at him with a wide smile. "you are a bold one, aren't you jace? getting my number, asking me to hang out twice in one week, asking me on a date..."

"well?" he asked, glancing at you with a grin. "are you opposed to it?"

"no, i don't think so," you answered, your hand entirely comfortable in his grasp as you leaned back into the seat. "hey, i like your car by the way. a lot nicer than the bike."

"thanks," he said. "but, i like my bike better."

"what? why?" you laughed. "this car is beautiful."

"it's too much," he answered with a shrug, turning onto your street without letting go of your hand. skills. "it's not my style."

"then why'd you buy it?" you asked curiously, tilting your head as you looked at him. he parked next to your own car, a crappy old ford that your parents had given you for your 16th birthday.

jace sighed, leaning back in his seat. "i didn't. my stepdad did."

"daemon?" you asked with furrowed brows. his eyes snapped to you.

"how do you know him?" he asked.

"baela's my best friend," you told him. "and one of my roommates. i... heard about the wedding. it didn't sound like fun, i'm sorry about that."

"it wasn't," he said, shaking his head as he remembered. "only a year after my dad died. a year. it's bullshit."

"that would be really hard," you said. "and i reckon you and daemon don't get on very well?"

"not at all," he answered.

"so is that why he bought you the car?" you guessed. "to try to win you over?"

"yep," he said, eyes narrowed in thought. "that's also bullshit."

you didn't say anything, sensing his frustration and not wanting to say anything insensitive. he looked over at you, his face softening when his eyes met yours. he tried at a smile, eyes moving passed yours out your window. his smile bloomed, and he squeezed your hand.

"my dad used to have a car like that," he said, looking at your dingy suv. you laughed lightly, looking back at him.

"really? that's mine. it's an old, messed up thing, but i like it," you told him.

"yeah, my mum sold dad's before even asking me. guess that's also why daemon bought this," he said, patting the door of the car. he sighed heavily before glancing at the time. "we should get you inside."

"yeah," you mumbled, looking from the clock to him, almost shocked to see him already looking at you intently. "i had a really good time, jace. thank you."

"anytime, seriously," he said, smiling more genuinely. his grip tightened on your hand for a moment, the two of you simply staring into one another's eyes before he leaned back, releasing your hand. "wait there."

he exited the car and rounded it, opening your door and offering his hand back to you. you giggled and took it, the boy shutting the door behind you and beginning to walk you back to the apartment.

you swung your hands in between you as you walked in silence, nearing your door. when you stopped, you hesitated to knock, instead just looking back up at him.

"jace?"

"hm?"

"will you kiss me?"

he grinned, stepping towards you and raising a hand to cup your cheek. "well, since you asked."

he captured your lips in his gently, tilting his head to allow better access. your free hand rose to his chest, kissing back happily. he was a good kisser, you immediately noticed, rhythmic and smooth, gentle and yet still firm. he pulled away, but you pulled him back in for another, the boy smiling as he returned the favor.

when you finally separated, you both were grinning.

"you're bold," he hummed. "giving me your number, going on two dates with me in a week, asking me to kiss you..."

"oh shut up," you laughed, pecking his lips one more time as he smiled.

"i'll see you later?" he asked.

"for our date," you said with a nod. "7?"

"yep. what kind of pizza do you like?" he asked.

"any kind," you answered with a shrug. "i'm not picky."

"want me to pick you up?" he questioned.

"nah, i'll drive me and aly over. maybe me and you can go for a little drive to give them some alone time," you suggested, causing jace to chuckle.

"i'd like that," he told you.

after another peck to the lips, you finally stepped back, knocking a few times for aly and baela to let you in.

"thanks again," you said. "i'm excited to see you again tomorrow."

"me too," he agreed with a smile, squeezing your hand one last time. "goodnight, y/n."

"goodnight, jace."

he walked off as baela pulled the door open, the girl grabbing your hand and dragging you inside.

alys was sitting at the counter with a tub of cookie dough that you three regularly snacked on, her eyes wide in question as baela smirked, locking the door behind you.

"his jacket," she pointed out, you suddenly realizing you were still wearing it.

"oh, wait, let me go give it back!" you said, stepping back to the door but she shook her head.

"no, no, no, you'll give it back next weekend. let him think about you," she said.

"i think he already is," alys laughed. "i mean, did you see that kiss? it was cute!"

"what?" you asked, eyes wide. "you saw?"

"we may or may not have looked out the window," she said with a shrug. "you guys are cute."

"he's a perfect gentleman, i literally think i'm in love," you sighed as you took a seat next to her, grabbing her spoon and dipping it into the cookie dough.

"alright, don't get too hasty," she laughed.

"no, i'm serious. it's so easy with him, he's just... comfortable," you told them, looking back at baela. your face was serious when you told her, "i think we may end up sisters."

she laughed loudly, coming to your other side and throwing an arm over your shoulder. "let's just see how the next one goes, ay?"

you talked to jace a lot. like, a lot. when you exchanged schedules, he somehow found time in his own to meet you halfway and talk before he dropped you off at class and you both finished class at 2, which meant you could go get food afterwards.

you saw him every single day before the date and always picked up one another's facetime calls, something you looked forward to after your shift at the campus coffee shop. he always looked so happy when you picked up the call or when he did, like he didn't believe after the last one that you'd speak to him again.

unsurprisingly, he talked to you a lot about his family. you learned about his brothers and their little quirks, that his closest brother luke was a computer science nerd and in his last year of secondary school. and then there was a wide age gap, joffrey being ten and in fourth year at the school on dragonstone jace went to as a kid. and then the two littles, viserys and aegon at 4 and 6.

you told him about your family and your little siblings. you thought your little sister would get along well with joffrey and he agreed.

and then he spoke with you of his mother and stepfather. he was conflicted - his father harwin had only passed a year prior in a housefire since he was a firefighter. apparently he loved his work, but he got trapped saving a family and though they survived, he didn't make it home. it killed him and his brothers, but he always felt his mother too indifferent.

"her and daemon began dating what felt like the next day," he said over facetime one day, brows knitted tightly as he spoke. "even joffrey noticed the strangeness and he was 4!"

"that is rather interesting," you said slowly, trying to gauge his thoughts as he sighed.

"and not to mention they have the same last name. that's odd, isn't it? targaryen isn't exactly common, but apparently they did an ancestry test and they're like 4th cousins once removed. for me it's a little close, but i'm not allowed to have opinions when it comes to daemon," he huffed.

you were surprised that he was confiding in you so much, but as you recalled everything you knew through the grapevine about jacaerys strong, you realized that he didn't have close friends. he had a million casual friends, but everyone knew he and cregan were super close and that was about it. if anyone else it was his cousins, but even then, how would he be able to talk to them about family issues if they were to get the wrong idea?

"i get what that's like," you told him softly. he looked to you quickly, furrowing your brows. "my mother died in childbirth when i was little and a few years ago my dad started dating some lady... she was weird to say the least. super into magic and witchy stuff, and she had a strange obsession with my little sister and her Lord's plans for her. dad didn't believe me when i told him what i'd heard her say and then i moved away for school. so, yeah, i get it."

"your mum died?" he asked with furrowed brows. "why didn't you tell me that?"

you shrugged, offering a sad smile. "i wanted you to feel like you could talk. i don't need to talk about it anymore, it's been so long."

"just because you don't need to doesn't mean you don't want to," he said, offering a gentle smile. "if you ever want to talk about it, or even just talk about her i'd be happy to hear."

this brought a fuller smile to your lips. "yeah, i think i'd like that."

you readjusted your position on your bed, turning over so that you could see him again on your phone screen. "we're a lot more alike than i thought, jacaerys."

"yeah, we are. how convenient."

you smiled fondly. "how convenient."

when you showed up that next friday in a simple pair of jeans and graphic tee (alysanne in something incredibly similar due to her fear of not being dressed properly), you did not expect to be greeted with a kiss from jacaerys.

he pulled the door open with a wide smile, wrapping an arm around your torso and pressing a chaste kiss to you lips before tugging you in, his smile twisting mischievously when he pulled away, causing you to laugh once, obviously shocked. you didn't argue, but you were definitely caught off guard. alys just stood there with a smirk as he pulled you inside, waving her in welcomingly as he smiled widely.

"cregan is in the kitchen," he said. "we decided we would make the pizzas tonight. you know, make it more personal."

"oh, that's fun," you said, letting go of his hand to fall back next to alys, a giggle on her lips as she watched you.

"i see what you mean about it just being natural," she teased as you rolled your eyes, following jace into the kitchen.

"i didn't tell you this, but we were on the phone for like 2 hours after he dropped me off last night," you whispered, a light blush covering your cheeks. she gasped.

"is he who you were talking to while you were studying earlier? and when you were making breakfast?" she asked.

you didn't say anything, instead laughing and dragging her into the kitchen after jacaerys. cregan was standing at the counter, placing circles of premade dough onto cookie sheets.

"creg," jace said. the stark boy turned with a smile, spotting us immediately.

"y/n!" he cheered. you laughed lightly.

"hey cregan," you said. you then took alysanne's arm, smiling sweetly at her and then cregan. "you remember my friend alysanne, right?"

"from geography? yeah, it's good to see you!" he said, smiling widely at her. you held onto alys as you felt her knees literally buckle, keeping her up as you pleaded with the gods for her to be normal.

"you... remember?" she mumbled. you elbowed her and she straightened up, holding your arm tightly. "it's good to see you too! what toppings do we have?"

you let go of her and pushed her to approach him, eternally grateful that she began a conversation. as he began showcasing the pepperonis, cheeses, peppers, sausages, and pineapples, you stepped back to jace's side.

"i don't think we'll make it out for our drive," you whispered with a laugh. he chuckled, wrapping an arm around your torso.

"i think they'll figure it out, we'll be fine," he mumbled before dragging you to make your pizzas.

you carefully picked out your favorite toppings, decorating yours in a smiley face after placing on the sauce and cheese. jace copied you, attempting to create a cool emoji with pepperonis as sunglasses, but he struggled majorly. eventually, he moved the meats into the shape of a heart, filling it in with pineapple.

"you like pineapple on pizza?" cregan asked, his face scrunched in disgust.

"you don't?" jace asked sassily, popping one in his mouth.

"gross," alys said with a shake of her head.

"well, what do you think, love?" he asked you, brows raised in question. with him calling you 'love' you couldn't exactly think anything, but you tried, just shrugging and offering him a small smile.

"whatever you say, jace," you said with a laugh.

"you don't like it?" he asked in fake shock.

"i don't mind it!" you defended sheepishly. "i'd eat it, but i wouldn't choose it. you know?"

"i'll always choose pineapple pizza," he hummed, eating another one.

"and that's fine," you laughed. he offered you a piece, which you accepted since it didn't have tomato sauce and cheese on it.

"alright, let's throw it in and then we can start a movie," cregan said.

the boys placed your pizzas in the oven as you and alys went into the living room. you walked closely to her, whispering quietly to her a rehash of your plan.

"we each get a corner and then you get to cuddle with cregan and me with jace," you mumbled.

"i know, i know," she whispered back with a snicker. you both sat on the couch, aly tucked in one corner and you sitting nearer the other side, but not so far away that it was suspicious. "trust me, i'm doing what i can to get close to him."

"you got this," you told her as the boys entered the room again, jace flicking the lights off. the boy immediately made himself cozy in the corner by you, offering you his hand. you took it with a smile and he pulled you closer slightly, until you finally bit the bullet yourself and sat by his side. cregan took to aly's side, pulling a blanket off the back of the couch to place over them both.

"do you want a blanket?" jace whispered, to which you shook your head.

"i'm good for now. but, i do have your jacket in my car," you told him. he grinned.

"we'll go get it later," he said, winking at you. he grabbed the remote off the arm of the couch and began messing around the main screen, finally clicking on the hbo icon. "what do you guys wanna watch?"

"a horror movie?" cregan suggested. "a new one just got on hbo."

"oh yeah?" you asked, resisting a laugh as you glanced at alysanne. "alys isn't the biggest fan of scary movies."

"i like them," she defended. "i just scare easy."

"don't worry," cregan said with a grin, leaning towards her. "i'll protect you."

you cringed, jace laughing as alysanne blushed.

"we can watch a horror movie then," you said decidedly, looking back at jace. he laughed, nodding, and working through the horror section until he landed on one. "the visit? that one makes me laugh."

"it makes you laugh? it freaks me out," cregan said, looking at you like you were crazy.

"the grandparents are just crazy and there's literally a part with a naked grandma," you laughed. "i can't watch it with a straight face."

"well, let's watch something we haven't seen and y/n won't laugh at," jace said, smiling at you. "how about hereditary?"

"i haven't seen that," you hummed. "let's watch it!"

jace clicked on it and it started, alysanne snuggling into her blanket as cregan put his arm around her. it was such secondary school moves, but hey, whatever works. when jace did it to you butterflies still erupted in your stomach, so obviously there's something to it.

the scene opened when jace whispered to you, "you want popcorn?"

he didn't even really wait for you to answer before pulling you up and into the kitchen, you resisting the urge to laugh at his movements.

it had only been two days and already everything he did just made you giddy.

he threw a bag of popcorn into the microwave before turning to you with a grin. he wrapped his arms around your waist, leaning closer to you. "i'm really glad you're here."

your arms wound around his neck. "me too."

"wanna come over tomorrow too?" he asked, smiling goofily.

"you're clingy," you laughed lightly.

"i like you," he corrected. "i like you a lot."

"i like you too," you hummed with a small smile.

he kissed you then, deeply, his lips moving in perfect rhythm with your own. his hand threaded through your hair and yours tugged at the hairs on the nape of his neck, earning a small smile. you kissed until the microwave beeped, and even when you pulled away, he pulled you back in for a smaller, slower one. he pressed a peck to your lips, smiling at you before grabbing the popcorn.

you held his hand as you pulled him back to the couch, tucking yourself in his side comfortably. it was a bit easier having confessed a little bit, beginning to snack on the popcorn you held between you.

soon enough the pizzas were finished and you ate them while watching the movie. you tried a bite of jace's pineapple pizza and you had to admit that it wasn't half bad. he ate like half of you smiley face pizza, but you couldn't stay mad at him for too long.

you noticed about 1/4 of the way through the movie that alysanne and cregan were whispering to each other, and that every time anything scary would happen she would jump and he would laugh, holding her in his arms by the halfway point. you leaned into jace's embrace, shutting your eyes tight when certain things would happen. jace would chuckle and run a hand through your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"you're such boyfriend material," you mumbled to him, looking up at him with a smile. "you're seriously so sweet and so comfortable."

"just for you," he mumbled in return, shooting you a short smile.

eventually, you realized that you weren't hearing cregan whispering or alysanne gasping at parts even jace jumped a bit at and you made the mistake of glancing over at them.

as soon as you caught a glimpse of his tongue down her throat you turned right back into jace's chest, laughing awkwardly as he chuckled, shaking his head.

"told you they'd be fine," he whispered to you, laughing as you muttered, "gross."

when the movie came to a close, neither of them noticed. jace took your hand and pulled you off the couch quietly, a finger to his lips as he pulled you up the stairs and to a room you quickly realized was his own.

"jace..." you said slowly, shaking your head before he did the same, his eyes wide.

"no, that's not what i mean," he said quickly. "no, i just - just come here."

he led you to a door by the window and then took you out onto what you discovered was his balcony. he pressed a kiss to the side of your head before looking up at the stars, a content smile on his lips.

"i like to sit out here sometimes and just think. you ever do that?"

"all the time," you answered with a small smile, holding his hand tightly in yours. "what are you thinking about right now?"

he hummed softly before looking at you with that charming grin he always has on. "you. how beautiful you are and how sweet your heart is. i like talking to you. a lot. and i like being around you, it's easy. way easier than it's ever been with anyone else."

"that's what i've been thinking since i met you," you told him with a small smile. "i don't generally believe in fate or destiny, but if it were a thing, this would be it."

he chuckled, squeezing your hand. "who's to say it isn't?"

you both gazed at each other for several moments, just smiling, comfortable in the silence of each other's presence.

"should we go on a drive?" you asked, swinging your hands. "you can drive if you want, since you always wanted one."

"let's go," he said with a grin, kissing you gently before pulling you out of his room, down the stairs, and out the door. alysanne and cregan were still making out on the couch with a new movie, some adam sandler romcom, playing in the background.

you tossed him the keys when you reached the suv and you climbed in. he adjusted the seat, a lot thanks to his long legs, while you buckled up and started the old thing up. he grinned as it revved to life, clicking his seatbelt secure.

"where are we going?" he asked.

"wherever your heart so desires," you mused with a light laugh.

"alright," he chuckled. he backed out of the parking space and made way for the highway, your hand clutched in his the whole way.

you sang along to one direction and the jonas brothers on your way to the hill jace eventually parked at, the boy just grinning at you as you sang your heart out. he knew more songs than you expected and you loved when he attempted zayn's high parts or nick's whiny disney voice - it made you laugh so hard how terrible it was.

he pulled you out of the car and onto the roof carefully, keeping you tucked in his side as you guys looked out over the small town that was your college town of king's landing. you loved it, truly. it was home now and you're glad it was.

"i have a question," he said randomly, leaning his cheek on the top of your head as you hummed in response, urging him to continue. "what is your ideal timeline of a relationship?"

you took a moment to decide how you would answer this, really contemplating what mattered to you.

"i don't have one," you mused eventually, turning your head to glance at him with a small smile. "i guess the only thing is that i don't want to date someone for 5 years and then have a year engagement. that's too long. i feel like if i know, then i'll know."

"yeah, i get that. i agree," he said with a nod of his head. "so, if i were to ask you to be my girlfriend... would that be okay? would you say yes?"

"in theory if you asked that, i'm sure i would," you said, your smile gradually growing.

"okay," he said simply before turning to you, both your hands in his large, warm ones. "will you be my girlfriend?"

"i'm sure that's fine," you hummed, grinning before you pressed a kiss to his lips. "yes, jace. of course."

he was ecstatic, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer to him as he captured your lips in his, his arms winding around your torso. you kissed him back eagerly, fingers playing with his curls as he flicked his tongue across your lip. you allowed him entrance for a few moments before pulling away with a grin, catching your breath.

you were basically between his legs with how close he'd pulled you at this point, the boy pulling you back in for what felt like a dozen more mini kisses. you laughed, finally pulling him off and falling into his chest, arms wrapping around you in a warm embrace. he pressed a gentle kiss to your head and you could feel his smile.

"i guess i do have to thank daemon for the car," he hummed. you furrowed your brows.

"why?" you asked him.

"well, if i didn't hate it so much i wouldn't have ridden my bike to school and never would've met you. and now that i have you, i realize that that would suck," he admitted, enjoying the spark of joy that flickered in your eye as you peered at him.

"you're a dream, jacaerys strong," you told him.

"i do my best," he chuckled.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

thanks for reading! leave a request in the comments or message me privately! i love writing, so if you've got an idea you need fleshed out on paper i'd love to be the one to do that for you

masterlist!!

[siriuslovebot]

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆 ➸ 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒖𝒔 𝒍𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒏 ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵𝒀𝑴𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑨𝑺𝑲𝑬𝑫: hi! can i please request a remus x reader in which the reader has always had a huge crush on him, but thought the feelings were unrequited? she lets the secret slip to lily & marlene and somehow it gets back to remus who finds it very endearing and teases her a bit?

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: shy!reader, playful teasing, the pet name mouse, some suggestive dialogue but nothing explicit. 

𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀: the reader has always had a huge crush on remus. the girls find out and marlene accidentally lets it get back to remus. 

𝑨/𝑵: thank you for your request, lovely anon! i’ve luckily got a few requests that i’m working on, so thank you all for being patient with me. i also want to say thank you for all of the love on my last post! i was very nervous about my first post and i received so much love and support! requests are still open, and as always feedback is greatly appreciated!

𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻: 4.1k 𓂃♡₊⭑

·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺

        “morning, mouse.”

        there’s a teasing touch to remus’s voice as he slides into the seat beside you. you glance at him out of the side of your eye as you take your potions textbook out of your bag, placing it gently on the table. a huff leaves your lips.

         “are you lot ever gonna let that go?” you frown, crossing your arms as you turn to him. 

         there’s a soft smile playing on his lips, and a chuckle from sirius behind him as he joins the pair of you at the table.

         “never gonna forget the look on mcgonagall’s face when she turned around,” says sirius brightly. you scowl at him, wanting to wipe the stupid amused grin right off of his face. 

        “shut up,” you say.

         “it wasn’t so bad. you had a rather cute little snout…” remus touches a finger to the tip of his nose, his smile slowly changing from gentle to a rather shit-eating one. 

        “oh come on, how many people can say they turned themselves into a mouse, y/n? takes proper skill to cast a spell without realizing your wand is turned the wrong way.” 

        your face flushes pink. “i–i was distracted!” you defend. 

        “distracted, that’s right… chatting away to moony and casting spells at the same time. how’ve you gone this long without blowing yourself to pieces?”

        you stick your tongue out at him, shoving his shoulder and laughing as he tumbles halfway off of his seat. he catches himself, making a face as he regains his spot. 

        “watch yourself, black,” you threaten. “how’d you like to be a dog permanently?”

        “double check you’ve your wand turned the right way ‘round this time, yeah?”

        there’s a thumping noise as you backhand his arm, and he winces dramatically.

        “all right, you two,” says remus, voice amused. “slughorn’s here.”

        chastised, you and sirius settle into your seats. the chattering of the rest of the class settles, and professor slughorn directs you to open your books to the correct chapter. you shift in your seat, glancing over at remus as he gathers his potions ingredients. his elbow nudges yours as he adjusts his cauldron.

        “sorry, mouse,” he says offhandedly. though you insist you hate the silly nickname, the sound of him saying it makes your stomach do a little flip. your neck and ears burn, but you say nothing, instead focusing on the task at hand. sirius is distracted by james mouthing something at him across the classroom, which has caught lily’s attention as well. her gaze catches you for a second, and you hope she’s too far away to see the flustered expression decorating your features as you scramble to start on your potion.

        invested in your textbook, you don’t notice when james makes his way over to your table, peering into your cauldrons as he returns from the class stores, having run out of one of his ingredients. “wonder why old sluggy’s got us brewing beautification potions,” he comments, making a face as he peers from sirius’s potion to remus’s. 

        “probably heard about y/n’s incident in transfiguration,” said sirius slyly, nudging your shoulder. your mouth falls open as james laughs.

         “pads,” remus warns, throwing him a sharp glance.

        sirius’s clear eyes dart between you and remus, and he holds his hands up in surrender. “sorry,” he says, “didn’t mean it, honest. y’know i think you’re fit, y/n.” he flashes a smile, turning on the charm.

         you roll your eyes. “you’re a right git, you know that?”

         “oh, come on. i’d have snogged the lights out of you by now if lily didn’t have her bloody rules,” he continues, back to his potion. james sniggering laugh fades as he returns to his table with lily and peter. 

         “‘m going to pretend i didn’t hear that,” says remus.

         “likewise,” you agree, an incredulous laugh bubbling in your chest. sirius responds with a noncommittal shrug, sprinkling a handful of rose petals into his potion without a care in the world. 

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪

        “so, mouse, how’d your study session in the library go?” the sound of the nickname coming in lily’s teasing voice causes your face to burn hot. 

        you turn towards her, having just pulled your nightgown over your head. you make a face, raking a hand through your hair as you flop onto your bed. marlene’s sprawled on her stomach at the end of your bed, flicking through a muggle magazine that lily brought back from holiday. 

        “not you too!” you complain, sighing heavily.

        “i’m only teasing,” she says, leaning against the windowsill with her arms crossed over her chest. her lips are curled up in amusement, features slightly shadowed by the moonlight spilling in through the window behind her.

        “i’ll never be y/n again. i’m gonna be mouse for the rest of my life at this rate,” you grumble, frustrated. “i mean, you accidentally transfigure yourself one time, and suddenly you’ve got a stupid nickname for life…”

        marlene giggles at your dramatics, dropping the magazine onto your bed. “i think you’ll be okay. seems like james and sirius have gotten all of their fun out of it…” she trailed thoughtfully. “sirius was having the most fun with it, and even he was back to calling you y/n by the end of dinner.”

        “remus, though,” lily begins, her eyes flashing with mischief. “seems like he really likes it.”

        you swallow hard, trying not to think of the way your heart pounds at the sound of the silly nickname in his voice. tearing your eyes away from lily, you try to mask the embarrassment blooming on your face. even when the pair of you went to the library after your evening meal, he had taken to calling you ‘mouse’ without even realizing it. almost affectionately. you’d been reeling with butterflies the entire time, unable to focus on studying for your upcoming exams. 

        “kind of endearing, isn’t it?” continues marlene. “i mean, he gets this dreamy sort of look in his eyes when he’s talking to you… and it’s sort of a sweet nickname, if you think about it…”

        “oh, come on,” you interject, as if they’re being ridiculous. 

        “no, honestly, y/n, you’re a bit oblivious,” lily adds. “he definitely thinks you’re fit.”

        marlene smiles as you glance between the two of them, nodding her head in agreement. “and don’t lie and say you don’t feel the same way,” she warns.

        “guys–”

        lily narrows her eyes at you, “no lying.”

        “i see you going all starry-eyed when you’re with him!” marlene sits up at the end of your bed, clasping her hands in her lap as she looks at you expectantly. “i’d bet ten galleons you curl up in your bed at night and dream of snogging remus lupin.”

        “oh my godric,” you mutter, placing your hands to your burning face. you can’t bear to look either of them in the eye. you hate that they know you so well, and even worse that you’re doing a horrible job of hiding your crush on one of your best friends. it’s a miracle that no one’s gone blasting it all over the school yet. 

        “so it’s true?” lily prompts, leaning in to better hear your admission of guilt.

        you huff, “don’t make me admit it.” your voice comes out as a whine, and that’s how they know they’ve got you. your secret has been exposed, and they’re having a giggling fit over it. 

        “next thing you know we’ll be finding moony and the mouse, curled up snogging in the common room,” says marlene, sounding smug. 

       “shut up,” you plead, though you can’t help the stupid smile that comes onto your lips as you shake your head. 

        “breaking all sorts of rules,” says lily. “including mine!”

        lily’s one explicit rule: no marauders hooking up with her friends. a tried and true method of keeping the boys (mostly sirius) out of yours and marlene’s pants. it’s been foolproof.

        “oh, shove it with the rules, evans,” marlene retorts. “you’d forget all about them once the four of you can go on silly little double dates.”

        you feign a gag, and it sends them both into fits of laughter. “i am not going on any double dates.”

        “no,” says lily, breathless, “i don’t think remus would like that very much, either…”

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪

        “where’s your chaperone, mckinnon?” it’s sirius, lounging on one of the sofas in the gryffindor common room. his wand is in his hand, flicking back and forth as he sends a tiny spark of light bouncing around the common room. he’s bored, waiting for the return of remus and james, probably to cause some trouble.

        marlene crosses her arms over her chest. “she’s wrapped around your best friend, black,” she says, a faux-disgusted look plastered on her face. “they’re in a broom closet, snogging each other’s faces off…”

        “ugh,” sirius says, dropping his wand as he leans up on his elbows to meet marlene’s gaze. “i showed james that bloody closet. now he’s gone and defiled it…” he flops back onto the couch, looking slightly sickened. 

        “can’t keep their hands off each other, the pair of them,” sirius continues after a moment.

        marlene laughs, settling into one of the plush armchairs near the sofa sirius occupies. “you’re telling me.”

        “what about moony?” sirius asks. 

        “studying with y/n.”

        sirius nods, having expected that answer. “y’know, they’re as bad as lily and james. worse, i think,” he says. “it’s a nightmare, having to watch him fawn over her like a little lost puppy. i mean, ‘m supposed to be the canine here…” he shakes his head.

        “you should hear y/n,” marlene counters. she’s not thinking as she speaks to sirius, not realizing she’s going on about your crush that you explicitly asked her not to discuss with anyone, especially not james or sirius. “the girl’s just dreaming of being shoved into a broom closet with remus. i wish they’d get over themselves and get a room.” 

        there’s a second of quiet between them, before marlene realizes what she’s just done. her eyes widen, and she blinks as sirius turns to look at her. she opens her mouth, though no words come out for a moment. “sirius–”

        “well, i don’t know about shoving but–”

        “sirius, listen to me,” marlene threatens, her voice sharp. “you can’t say anything. please. y/n will kill me.”

        “ah, marls, that ship has sailed,” he laughs, sitting up. “moony’s in for a treat.” he practically leaps from his place on the sofa, looking awfully haughty as he plans to expose the blooming feelings between the two of his friends. 

        “sirius!” she hisses. “i’ll give you five galleons to keep it to yourself. please.”

         sirius tuts, shaking his head. “sorry, love. i’ve no need for your money. besides, i’m doing all of us a favor here.”

         marlene deflates before him, feeling extremely defeated as she watches sirius leave the common room, a new swagger in his step. dread clouds her senses as she realizes she’s going to have to tell you that she revealed your crush on remus. 

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪

         “you’re looking awfully chipper this morning,” comments sirius, eyes skirting over you as you join him in the corridor. 

        “it’s hogsmeade weekend,” you say simply, hooking your arm through his to lead him down to the entry hall. it seems the rest of your friends have left already, none of them keen on waiting for you to return from the greenhouses this morning after helping professor sprout harvest flobberworm mucous for extra credit. “thanks for waiting for me, by the way.”

        “someone had to,” he says, sounding a bit sheepish. 

        you roll your eyes, used to his faux disdain at your expense. “how’s moony?” you ask as you join the rest of the students making their way down to hogsmeade. the full moon was a couple nights ago, and you hadn’t seen your beloved lycanthrope in far too long. he tended to avoid you when it was, ahem, that time of the month, and though you thought it was unnecessary during the day, you understood. sirius and james could deal with him when he was in that state, but none of them liked to risk having you or the girls anywhere near his furry little problem. it was thoughtful, honestly. 

        “exhausted,” replies sirius. “he wanted to wait for you, but lily didn’t want to leave him alone. reckon she was scared he’d fall asleep standing up and get a concussion.”

        you laugh half-heartedly and wonder why remus didn’t decide to stay behind and get some sleep. you worried about him, oftentimes wondering if he was truly taking care of himself properly. each time he went out to the shrieking shack he returned with new scars, looking more and more ill as the weeks went on. it was a wonder he was managing his classes and keeping decent marks. 

        you chatter back and forth as you make your way to hogsmeade, sirius recounting their latest excursion in the shrieking shack. you finally make it to hogsmeade, spotting lily’s bright hair shining in the sun, and the goofy look on james’s face as he does some impersonation of one of your classmates, that you just happen to catch the tail-end of.

        “who’s that you’re mocking, prongs?” you raise your eyebrows, arms crossed as the group begins marching towards the three broomsticks. 

        “i’ll have a guess,” says sirius. he thinks it over for a second, then a lightbulb seems to go off in his head. “that hufflepuff fifth year, what’s his name? the burly one, tried out for seeker and wrecked his broom into the stands?”

        james erupts into a fit of cackling laughter, nodding his head. “yes, yes!” he claps, looking quite pleased with his interpretation of the hufflepuff boy’s less than graceful dismount. remus laughs softly, while marlene rolls her eyes. 

        “not everyone is as adept as you on a broomstick, potter,” says marlene.

        “i’m only joking,” james says, shrugging. “‘sides, it’s not like anyone’s gonna tell the poor guy. what he doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.” the dark-haired boy winks as he opens the door to the three broomsticks, waving you all inside. 

        you nudge remus in the side as you stand in the crowd, waiting to push through the gaggles of students to find a table big enough to fit all of you. 

        “hello, mouse,” he says, voice tired although he’s sporting his usual smile. sirius was right. he looks awfully haggard, and a lot like he should be in bed instead of traipsing through hogsmeade. 

        “how are you feeling?” you ask, concerned. your conversation is overshadowed by the chatter all around you, which you’re thankful for. it’s unlikely anyone could overhear the two of you discussing his delicate situation. 

        “i could go for a long nap,” he says, truthfully. “missed you, though.”

        your heart leaps in your chest, and a shy half-smile finds its way to your lips. “you don’t have to exhaust yourself just to see me, rem,” you say, flushed. 

        “i don’t mind.” he shrugs. his hand bumps yours as you stand, watching sirius push through a crowd of confused looking third-years, heading for a table in the corner. he hooks one finger with yours for half a second, before the two of you are following your friends to the table. 

        you swear the touch sends your whole body vibrating, your heart beating loudly enough that you’re sure everyone in the pub can hear it. you take your seat, head swimming as you settle down and order a butterbeer when madame rosmerta comes for your orders. 

        after the three broomsticks, your group splits up. james and sirius flit off to spintwitches sporting needs, james muttering something about new quidditch gloves. marlene and lily run into mary macdonald outside of honeydukes. which leaves you and remus.

        “right, mouse, where to?” remus looks to you for direction, having brightened up a bit since having something to drink. he’s much less ill-looking, although you notice a fresh scar creeping up from beneath the neckline of his sweater. your eyes skirt over the wound, but you jerk your attention away before he notices. 

        “how about gladrags?” you wonder aloud. “i saw a nice blouse in there on the last hogsmeade weekend. ‘course, i talked myself out of buying it at the time, but i really want it…” you realize that you’re rambling, and stop before you can embarrass yourself. 

        “after you,” he offers his arm, and you try not to look flustered as you take it. 

        gladrags is empty as ever, very few wizards doing any clothing shopping at this time of year, it seems. the cashier is an ancient elderly lady, who shouts hello at you as you enter. you reply, but she’s got hearing problems, and you’re not loud enough. remus shouts a greeting back, earning a smile from the lady and a fit of giggles from you.

        “poor old woman,” remus says, amused.

        “hush,” you say quietly, although there’s no risk of her accidentally hearing you.

        “sorry,” he says, eyes still crinkled as he smiles. “now, where is this lovely blouse?” he inquires, quirking an eyebrow. you finger through the racks, looking for the pale-coloured, silken fabric. you finally find it, the last shirt on a very back rack. 

        “what do you think?” you ask, holding the fabric up against your front, peering down at it.

        “hmmm,” remus examines the fabric, taking the tail of it between his fingers. “looks like  a blouse.” 

        you roll your eyes. “this is why i don’t go shopping with boys,” you say, laughing softly. 

        “maybe you should try it on,” he suggests. “i’m sure it looks better on.”

        you nod. “good idea,” you flit off to the changing rooms. remus waits for you, your coat draped over his arm as he waits for you to change, listening to you curse as you fiddle with the buttons on the blouse. you adjust the lace outlining the neckline and the sleeves, smoothing the fabric as you eye yourself in the mirror. 

        “okay, rem, what do you think?” you thrust open the curtain to the changing room. remus’s eyes widen a tad, and you swear there’s a flush of pink across his cheeks. he forces his gaze up from the dip in the silken fabric that accentuates your chest, and meets your eyes. you shift under his gaze, looking hopeful.

        “erm,” he clears his throat, brushing a strand of hair off of his forehead. “much better on, absolutely. very pretty, mouse.”

        “i thought so, too,” you agree, turning away and sweeping the curtain shut behind you. outside, you hear him swear under his breath and the sound of shuffling. your hands tremble a bit, your nerves getting the better of you. the complement, coupled with the bloody nickname. it’s enough to have your head spinning, wishing you could just grab him by the shoulders and kiss him silly. in your mind’s eye you see the almost bashful look in his eyes as he took in the sight of you, and you can’t focus on anything else. 

        after a few moments of struggling with the stupid buttons, unable to undo them, you hear his voice on the other side of the door.

        “okay in there?” he asks, closer now. the sound of his voice sends a jolt through you.

        “i’m all right,” you respond. “can’t get these bleeding buttons undone.”

        it’s quiet for a second. “need help, mouse?”

        you freeze. he sounds like he genuinely wants to help. you tell yourself he’s just a friend offering help to his friend. deep down, though, you’re hopeful. maybe your feelings are not as one-sided as you thought… 

        you struggle with the buttons for another second, then concede. you peek out of the changing room, ensuring there are no witnesses, before dragging him inside by the sleeve of his sweater. there’s a split second of tension, his gaze finding your half-unbuttoned blouse before it lands on your clearly flustered expression. 

        he laughs gently. your brows pull together.

        “what’s funny?” you ask, frowning. 

        “‘m sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “let me just…” he trails, hanging up your discarded coat before his nimble fingers come to the buttons on your chest. goosebumps rise on your skin, and you try not to shiver. you follow his movements, his face screwed up in concentration as he fiddles with the tricky buttons.

        “i’m starting to rethink this purchase, considering it’s a nightmare getting off,” you say, pressing your lips together as his eyes flick up to your face. he smiles, amused. 

        “i think you should get it,” remus says.

        “you think so?”

        “yeah. especially if you’ll be needing my help taking it off more often.” you swear he winks at you, and your knees turn into jelly. has he really just said that? you blink for a second, one of your hands coming up to stop his fingers from unhooking the buttons.

        “moony…”

        “what?” he looks up at you, a teasing glint in his pale brown eyes. 

        your cheeks are pink, and your eyes dreamy as you look at him. his skin is warm where your hand is clasped around his, and despite his exhaustion, he’s never felt more alive.

        “i– sorry,” he says, “you just— you look very beautiful. and i think it would be a waste not to buy this blouse when it wouldn’t look nearly as good on anyone else.” his voice has gone quiet. he swallows before continuing. “sirius said... well, maybe he was lying, but he said you have feelings for me... and i just wanted you to know that i feel the same.”

        the butterflies in your stomach have turned to dragons, ravaging your insides. you’re pressed close to him, close enough to feel his breath fanning over your skin. inside your chest, your heart is beating fast enough that you’re sure it’s going to burst any second. with your free hand, you reach up and slowly trace the new scar on his neck, up to his face. you cup his cheek, your thumb swiping just beneath his clear eyes.

        “can i kiss you, mouse?” he asks, the question barely audible.

        “i would like that,” you say simply.

        there’s a split second of hesitation, before he’s pulling you into him. his lips are softer than you expected, gently parting to deepen the kiss. you tighten your grasp around his hand, and your other hand snakes around to curl into the hair at the nape of his neck. he presses closer to you, very lightly, as if you’re delicate. you hum against his mouth, your head swimming as you finally force yourself to part ways. the blouse is still halfway undone, forgotten between the two of you. you’re drunk on his presence, wishing you were back in the castle so you could have him all to yourself, for as long as you’d like.

        “we–um, do you want to get out of here?” you suggest, pressing your lips together. the ghost of his mouth against yours is driving you crazy. you feel incomplete without him wrapped around you. you want him touching you, forever.

        “let’s get this off, quick,” he says, nodding. he struggles for another second with the pesky buttons, and then you’re slipping the blouse over your shoulders. remus adverts his gaze, and you can’t help but smile. such a gentleman. you adore him. 

        “is the coast clear?” you wonder, once you’re dressed and ready to go.

        “think we’re all right,” he says. he leads you to the front counter, and generously pays for your new blouse, which he admits he likes very much. 

        “in fact,” he says as you exit the shop, “i think you should wear it again tonight.”

        “really?” you ask, unable to mask the beaming smile on your face. 

        “mhmm,” he agrees, interlacing your fingers as he leads you down the street, in search of the rest of your friends. “actually, i think it’d be quite nice tomorrow night, too… and the night after that, and after that…” he trails, grinning as you smack him playfully on the arm. 

        it seems the rest of the group have been searching for you for a while, lily approaching with an exasperated look on her face.

        “where have you two been?” she asks. 

        “we’ve been looking everywhere,” adds marlene.

        “sorry–” you begin, but you’re cut off by sirius, who takes a step closer to peer at the two of you.

       “why have you got that look on your face, moony?” he narrows his gaze at remus, who shrugs. “and you–” he turns to you “--your lips are all swollen. oh! merlin, you’ve been off swapping saliva haven’t you?” he makes a very long, exaggerated gagging noise to which james offers loud laughter.

        “oh, shut up, sirius,” you mutter, shoving him as you begin your walk back to the castle. “you’re just mad that no one’s offered to swap saliva with you.”