#i’m thinking 5 parts total

[reidsdimples]

When Everything Changed | Part 4

18+❤️‍🔥 MDNI‼️

Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

Enemies to lovers

Part 3

Mixed emotions are confronted while alone with Spencer in his apartment.

The team had zeroed on the unsub and the sting operation was being planned out. Last you and Spencer heard, they were about an hour from the address.

The night had stretched into the early morning. You had helped Spencer with his medicine and weird liquid food before putting on a movie. Said movie, Friday the 13th had just ended and he was asleep on the couch.

There hadn’t been another instance of him touching or kissing you but also neither of you sniped at the other. You mostly were in blissful silence either working or watching the movie. You didn’t know when Spence fell asleep but you glanced back at him from where you sat on the floor in front of the couch.

His face was slack with sleep and smooshed against his hand. He had the blanket pulled up over his shoulder and seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Your mind kept going back to Darcy and Elizabeth. Could he really be your Darcy? Did he want to be?

The credits ended and the room fell silent, prompting him to stretch and rub his sleepy eyes. He glanced over at you where you didn’t hide the fact that you were watching him sleep. The dim screen was the only thing illuminating his features but you could see the curiosity in his gaze.

“You fell asleep,” you tutted and turned from him. Your back was still leaning against the couch.

“I dreamed about Freddy Krueger if that counts,” you hear him smile.

“I hope he got you,” you pout and toss a piece of your popcorn at his head. It bounces off and tumbles to the floor next to you.

“Nope, unfortunately for you I’m still here,” he laughs softly, contently and sits up. You’re sitting next to his legs now, the urge to touch him heightening in such close proximity. “You tensed up,” he observed.

“What- no I didn’t!” You scoff.

“Deflecting and now you won’t look at me,” he points out. You whirl to face him to try and prove him wrong but he greets you with a devilish grin that has your stomach tightening.

“What are you implying Spencer?” You huff. He raises his eyebrows, pleased that you’re bothered. His knee knocks against your shoulder.

He leans down, prompting his elbows on his knees with his arms dangling between his spread legs.

“I’m not implying anything besides the obvious,” his gravely voice is near a whisper. His perfect lips form the words so sinfully that you adjust as you clench your thighs together.

“Obvious is relative,” you lean up on your knees and move between his legs, forcing him to sit back on the couch. “Elaborate.”

“Your hatred for me has melted into lust just as mine has for you,” he insists and folds his arms behind his head. You place your hands on his thighs where the thin pajama pants offer little barrier between you and his skin.

“Are you certain? Because honestly you look kind of punchable right now,” you give him a sarcastic smile. He leans forward so your noses are almost touching.

“I’m certain I can take whatever you want to do to me,” his words are deadly, dripping in seduction.

Shit.

“Your hand keeps inching up towards my cock. You keep licking your lips and clenching those delicious thighs. I bet you’re dripping wet right now,” he leans in and whispers against your ear.

Frustrations floods over you because he’s right, you hate when he’s right. But that frustration gives way to a wave of need that has your pussy clenching around nothing.

You glance down at his lap as he leans back again, the absence of his mouth near your neck only slightly upsetting. His erection has begun to grow in his pants and you know that crossing this line is dangerous. But then your mouth starts watering and you feel the need to grab it, the need to pump him until his whimpering beneath you.

“You’re arrogant,” you say because it’s true. The you trail your hand up and grip his cock through his pants. He flinches and watches you with wide eyes. “You’re a know it all,” you add as you adjust to his still hardening cock in your hand.

“Mhmm, anything else?” He bites his lip, watching you intently. You don’t know whether to focus on his facial expressions or his perfect length in your hand. He thrust his hips upward, filling your hand with him.

“You’re extremely infuriating,” you grab his waist band and tug his pants down. “Not to mention intellectually inferior to me,” you grin as you grab his cock.

His eyes go wide at the assertion and he’s about to say something when you bring your tongue to his tip and drag slow circles around the head. The salty flavor of him melts on your tongue and has your clit throbbing with need. He deflates into the couch when you wrap your mouth around him, taking him deep into the back of your throat all at once until your nose is flattened against his pelvis.

“Fuck you,” he pants as he draws out the words, finally responding to the last insult. You bring your head back up his length, hallowing your lips and sucking sweetly, torturously until he’s groaning beneath you.

You pop his head out of your mouth and look up at him.

“You could fuck me,” you shrug and then spit on his cock before take him deep again. “But you won’t,” you tease and continue your assault on him, pumping your hand with the motion of your mouth. You swirl you tongue to taste every inch of him, to draw out his pleasure.

Your other hand drops to your clit, running circles in speed with your mouth on his cock. His hand curls into your hair and shoves you deeper into his cock, making it clear that your little taunt pissed him off. You gag and choke and drool around him before he yanks your head off of him.

“It seems like you want me to be pissed off,” he tilts his head, jerking yours closer to his face. “Is that it? You want me to hate fuck you?”

You always enjoyed the darker more sassy side of him, this side of him. You did want that. You wanted him angry. You wanted him to use you.

“Mhmm,” you grin wildly.

He grabs the nape of your neck and stands, forcing you to stand with him.

“Your smart mouth and insistence on being right is going to get you fucked until you can’t walk,” he bends you over the kitchen table where files go flying.

“I don’t think you can,” you bite out, glancing back at him. He drops down behind you, removing your jeans swiftly and with ease.

“I’m going to enjoy making you scream for me,” he exhales as his long fingers trails up your soaked cunt. “Dripping with desire. Or was it hatred?” He muses and slaps your ass.

You grunt, annoyed at his fine line shit.

“Hatred. I want to fuck you out of my system,” you spread your legs and look over your shoulder at him.

His eyes are darker, filled with something more primal. This is another competition for both of you. Who is going to tap out first?

He lines the thick head of his cock up at your entrance and sinks in slowly.

“I know it’s tight baby. Don’t cum too soon,” you purr just to piss him off.

A groan of annoyance erupts from his chest as his grips your hips. He plunges into you hard now, forcing your walls to stretch around him, your cervix aching when he pounds into it. It feels so good.

He snaps and thrusts his hips forward and into you impossibly quick before angling himself to hit that spot inside of you that draws out a loud moan.

“Fucking let me hear how much you hate me, how much you hate this,” he grabs your hair and jerks your head back. It only improves that angle until sounds you don’t recognize are pouring out of you.

He reaches down and starts rubbing your clit and he rails into you, never missing a beat.

“Fuck,” you cry out as your legs start to shake.

“Cum for me,” he pants as he fucks you harder still. Your pelvis is slamming into the wooden table but it’s hurt so good.

Your eyes are rolling back in your head and the mix of pain and pleasure he’s giving you in equal measure. You tighten around him and shudder as your orgasm rocks you. You choke out a scream that sounds vaguely like ‘Reid’ but you hope he can’t tell.

He pulls out of you abruptly as your orgasm rattles you and before you can protest he’s on his knees with his face buried in your pussy from behind. You arch your back to give him better access and he grips your ass to spread you wider for him. Your clit is throbbing as he sucks on it until you’re on the verge of tears. He skids his tongue skillfully up and down your entrance, even all the way up to your ass until yours moaning for him.

He doesn’t stop sucking on your pussy and tongue fucking it until you’re orgasming on his face. You reach back and press his head closer into you as you cum in his fucking mouth.

“Finally something that mouth is good for,” you grind out.

He stands, fire blazing in his gaze, his lips glossing with your cum. He flips you on your back and pulls your legs up onto his shoulders. You can watch him now as he slides back into you.

Your cunt is sensitive as he rolls his hips to find the spot that causes you to moan. When he does, a satisfied grin plays in his face but you don’t have the capacity to sass him, it feels too good. Who would have thought that Spencer Reid was so versed in the art of pleasuring a woman.

His hands find your tits and squeezes them hard, they fit in his hands perfectly. The sight of him fucking you is overwhelming as he stimulates you in multiple ways. Fuck, you didn’t know if you could take another orgasm.

His tongue swipes across his bottom lip like it usually does when he’s focusing and he catches you staring at his mouth. He seems to have the same realization as you. You hadn’t kissed him yet. A wild thought given that his cock was sliding in and out of you at this very moment.

He drops your legs and brings them around his waist before leaning forward. He stares down at you for a moment, longingly as a whimper comes from his throat. You lean up and capture his lips in yours. It’s more intimate, more real than sex somehow.

You’re both a mess of moans and clashing tongues as he slowly winds himself in and out of you. He’s drawing you closer to the edge, he has you whimpering, nearly in tears at how good it feels. He’s kissing you deeply, passionately, as though he’s long for the taste of you for ages.

You curl your hands in his hair to deepen the kiss, to have something to hold on to as another orgasm crashes through you.

“Spencer,” it comes out as a plea as you pulse around him.

A damning grunt escapes him and he breaks the kiss, throwing his head back as you tighten on his cock. That’s it for him, his thrusting falters and he pulls out of you, grabbing his cock and pumping it.

You say nothing but sink to the floor and take him in your mouth until his hot cum is coating the back of your throat. He braces himself on the table, the most delicious moans escaping him as you swallow everything he has.

He crouches down on the floor with you, your legs shaking too bad to stand back up. He pulls you into him and holds you close to his chest.

“When are we going to admit that this isn’t hate?” He murmurs and kisses your head.

[paanzermensch]

Reupload

[vamp1re-b1tes]

giggling and kicking my feet so hard rn

the sillies dressed as even sillier sillies

uaugh i should do more of these

[deus-ex-mona]

my five surviving braincells when something remotely good happens:

[grimmweepers]

i think october will be the perfect time to post my gothic sebastian piece

[frogs-in3-hills]

i’ve spent the last 11 hours straight just baking do you think that’ll be enough cookies for… [counts] five people

[ghost-proofbaby]

thinking about my two steddie fics i keep in my wip and very near and dear to my heart

[byoldervine]

Types Of Writer’s Block (And How To Fix Them)

1. High inspiration, low motivation. You have so many ideas to write, but you just don’t have the motivation to actually get them down, and even if you can make yourself start writing it you’ll often find yourself getting distracted or disengaged in favour of imagining everything playing out

Try just bullet pointing the ideas you have instead of writing them properly, especially if you won’t remember it afterwards if you don’t. At least you’ll have the ideas ready to use when you have the motivation later on

2. Low inspiration, high motivation. You’re all prepared, you’re so pumped to write, you open your document aaaaand… three hours later, that cursor is still blinking at the top of a blank page

RIP pantsers but this is where plotting wins out; refer back to your plans and figure out where to go from here. You can also use your bullet points from the last point if this is applicable

3. No inspiration, no motivation. You don’t have any ideas, you don’t feel like writing, all in all everything is just sucky when you think about it

Make a deal with yourself; usually when I’m feeling this way I can tell myself “Okay, just write anyway for ten minutes and after that, if you really want to stop, you can stop” and then once my ten minutes is up I’ve often found my flow. Just remember that, if you still don’t want to keep writing after your ten minutes is up, don’t keep writing anyway and break your deal - it’ll be harder to make deals with yourself in future if your brain knows you don’t honour them

4. Can’t bridge the gap. When you’re stuck on this one sentence/paragraph that you just don’t know how to progress through. Until you figure it out, productivity has slowed to a halt

Mark it up, bullet point what you want to happen here, then move on. A lot of people don’t know how to keep writing after skipping a part because they don’t know exactly what happened to lead up to this moment - but you have a general idea just like you do for everything else you’re writing, and that’s enough. Just keep it generic and know you can go back to edit later, at the same time as when you’re filling in the blank. It’ll give editing you a clear purpose, if nothing else

5. Perfectionism and self-doubt. You don’t think your writing is perfect first time, so you struggle to accept that it’s anything better than a total failure. Whether or not you’re aware of the fact that this is an unrealistic standard makes no difference

Perfection is stagnant. If you write the perfect story, which would require you to turn a good story into something objective rather than subjective, then after that you’d never write again, because nothing will ever meet that standard again. That or you would only ever write the same kind of stories over and over, never growing or developing as a writer. If you’re looking back on your writing and saying “This is so bad, I hate it”, that’s generally a good thing; it means you’ve grown and improved. Maybe your current writing isn’t bad, if just matched your skill level at the time, and since then you’re able to maintain a higher standard since you’ve learned more about your craft as time went on

[reidsdimples]

When Everything Changed | Part 3

Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

Enemies to lovers- slow burn/case talk/yapping Spence

Part 2

In which you and Spencer help with a case virtually from his apartment after his hospital stay. 🧸 🖤

You had always thought time to work in mysterious ways. It could heal any wound yet allow it to fester. It could bring people together and rip them apart. Time was an enigma, especially to you. How much time did it take to recover from something like a near death experience?

How much time did it take to recover from trauma without allowing it to cripple?

“Y/N, my office,” Hotch calls out to you.

You’ve been on desk duty for a week, going crazy truthfully.

“Yes?” You ask when you see him.

“Reid is behind discharged today,” he informs you as you sit.

You don’t really know why you had to be called into his office for that information.

“The team is flying out to Atlanta. I’m going to need you and Reid working virtually. Are you able to see him home and work with him from there?” He asks.

“I don’t see why not, is this pertaining to the suspected serial down there?” All you knew was that people in the ghost hunting and supernatural communities were turning up dead.

“Yes, we will brief you via video chat while we’re on the plane,” Hotch nods.

You leave the office toying with a mix of emotions. You were eager to work on an active case, happy that Reid was being discharged, and nervous to see him.

Following that night you read to him, you recalled the quote in question that he had partially written.

One from Pride and Prejudice reading;

“I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.”

You had not mentioned it to him, nor had he said anything to you. When you showed up two days later with a copy of the book to read to him, he got agitated. He asked that you read something else or don’t at all.

It was strange, his behavior was strange. He had been happy to see you yet distant. Then you found that very same page with that portion of the quote crumbled up and thrown on the floor. Why?

You knew what that quote was about, it was about the moment Darcy realized he was developing feelings for Elizabeth despite not realizing it.

Your heart pounds as you think about it. Could he be feeling that way for you? Or you him? You feel your pulse in your throat as you recall the feeling times you stared to long at his waist or his hands. Perhaps listened too hard when he spoke because there was something soothing in his voice even when he was annoyed with you.

Why had that quote come to mind while you were reading to him that first night? And when and why did he trash it?

You were once again back to being irritated by him but not enough to hate him. You were more elated that he was better, that his voice was back, and that he was cleared to go home.

You had a feeling that he insisted on helping with this case. You were fine with that. You could do this, you would just push the strangeness of Jane Austen’s words and Reid away.

So you swallowed those feelings, cleared your throat and stepped into his hospital room for the last time.

“Time to go home,” you announce as you enter.

He was spinning himself around absentmindedly on the doctors chair when he came into view. He smiled, delighted most likely to be going home. He was dressed, freshly, and showered. Save for the incision scars on his throat, he looked like himself. You think the scars somehow make him more sexy but you swat the thought away as soon as it occurs.

“Thank you for coming to get me,” his voice is low and raspy.

You hadn’t heard him talk yet and it took you off guard. Not because he sounded hideous. Quite the opposite, actually. It came off as sultry, like he was half asleep. Shit.

“You’re welcome,” you grin.

You’re standing in the doorway still, aware that you’re not sure what to do with yourself. What was your problem? Damn, it’s just Reid. Annoying old Reid. The same brainiac Reid.

Yet sexier somehow, probably because he almost died taking a bullet in your stead.

You collect all of the discharge information and prescription for his liquid diet formula grossness and before you know it, he’s easing into your passenger seat.

“How long until you can eat proper solid food again?” You ask as you try to fill the calm silence in the car.

“They’re going to reevaluate me in two weeks,” he answers, his voice like sand paper.

“Sorry you probably should talk as little as possible,” you wince because it sounds painful.

“Talking strengthens the vocal cords,” he informs. “I came dangerously close to never being able to speak again. In fact about 73 percent of patients with this type of trauma lose the ability to talk completely.”

You smile to yourself. The way he needs to blurt information is so endearing.

Your phone pings with the BAU group chat:

“Wheels up in 30,” from Hotch.

“Okay we need to get the laptop set up at your place by the time they take off so we can sit in on the case briefing,” you punch the gas to ensure you get there on time.

Reid sits up a little in his seat.

“Are you scared of my driving?” You ask.

“No?” He lies. You narrow your eyes playfully but don’t respond.

You and Reid are patched in with Garcia and the rest of the team just in time. Reid seems slight uncomfortable in the wooden chair with the way he has to hold his neck so you help him with some pillows.

“Cara Lynch, Jane Wilbur, and Mason Riley all found murdered and dismembered in the old mill plant on the east side,” Hotch starts.

“Ten days later, James Marlon and Ryan Finch met the same fate in a separate infamously haunted place,” JJ says.

“Ghost hunting seems to link all of these victims,” Hotch says.

“Were they recording at the time of their deaths?” Reid asks in a gravely voice.

“Tripods recovered, no cameras or audio recording equipment. It seems the unsub took it,” Morgan answers.

“Manner of homicide?” You ask.

“Shot, with arrows in vital organs. Each victim shot twice,” Prentiss says as she flips through the photos.

Both you and Reid seem to wince at the mention of being shot. But neither of you acknowledge it to the other.

More details are shared about the limb removal possibly being a forensic countermeasure before the team starts spitballing profile points.

"The use of arrows by the unsub suggests a need for a sense of precision and control. Arrows are often associated with hunting, so the unsub may view their victims as prey. Additionally, the fact that the victims are ghost hunters could indicate a belief by the unsub that they are somehow deserving of this punishment. It's possible that the unsub sees themselves as some sort of vigilante, targeting those who they believe are meddling in the supernatural realm,” Spencer muses. His speech is slower but the team is patient with him, more in tune with what he has to say than usual.

“I would point of alternatively that the arrows symbolize a form of justice or retribution in the eyes of the unsub. The unsub may believe that the victims, in their pursuit of the supernatural, have disrupted the natural order or crossed a line that they deem unacceptable. By using arrows as a weapon, the unsub may be trying to send a message that their actions have consequences and that they are being punished for their perceived transgressions,” you add. Reid glances over at you but says nothing.

“Given the victomology I can believe that this unsub believes the ghost hunters have crossed some sort of line,” Rossi says. “Maybe he’s religious?” Prentiss asks.

“The-“ Spencer starts but you inadvertently cut him off. He’s unable to speak over you like he used to.

“Sorry,” you squeeze his arm but continue. Just as you start talking, his hand moves to your knee. “In Christianity, arrows can symbolize strength, protection, and divine intervention,” you say. You could continue but pause for Spencer to add his thoughts, your mind glitching at the contact of his hand on your knee. The jeans didn’t seem like enough of a barrier for how heated your skin became.

“The unsub may view their actions as a form of divine justice or punishment for those they believe are engaging in sinful or forbidden practices,” he finishes simply, and removes his hand.

He doesn’t seem upset by you speaking over him which is almost out of character. He wasn’t nearly as aggravated with you anymore. You didn’t know whether to be relieved or concerned in this new attitude… or lack thereof.

The team signs off and you and Spencer are instructed to work on the geographical profile until further notice.

You find yourself absentmindedly inspecting his endless rows of books while he uses his protractor on the map. The geographical profile had been relatively easy to put together since there were only two locations.

The tension and silence stretches out between you, things unsaid. What was that?

You turn your attention back to him when he stands, placing photos on the white board.

“To go searching for ghosts only to become one, kind of ironic right?” You sigh and add to the board with him.

“Unfortunate, but the risk that urban explorers and paranormal investigators put themselves at in these locations is relatively high. It’s why I don’t personally see them as low risk victims,” he says.

“True but they aren’t a high risk, nothing indicating drug use, an inclination towards petty crimes, or sexual deviancy,” you reason.

“Trespassing is a petty crime,” he insists. You narrow your eyes on him as his long fingers press a magnet over a crime scene photo.

“And part of the job,” you retort.

“The same could be argued about shooting a bank teller during a robbery,” he turns to you with his eyes up. “Doesn’t make it any less a crime.”

He’s so close to you that you can feel his breath fanning against your face.

“You-“ you begin, pointing your magnet at him.

“I what?” He taunts you, dares you to finish that sentence. The rasps in his voice goes straight to your head. He outwitted you, you both knew it. He plucks the magnet from your hand and slaps in onto the board.

“I’ve resigned myself not to compete with you anymore,” you smirk and step out of his vicinity which fogged your head.

“Hardly a competition,” he murmurs.

“What is with you?” You whirl on him. “It’s like you don’t know how to act all of the sudden. You want to be an asshole? Fine, I’m used to that. But don’t touch me and then turn on me. It’s confusing,” you explode.

He blinks, stunned by your fury. Then he smirks.

“I get under your skin don’t I?” It’s a cocky rhetorical question.

“Your mood swings do,” you bite out.

“I don’t think that’s it,” he drops into the chair and picks up a pen. “Did you know hatred and desire are two of the most powerful feelings we experience?”

You knew that, of course. Fine line between love and hate and all that.

“As such it’s easy for them to become intertwined,” he whirls the one around his fingers. He clocks you watching the movement, seeming to further prove the point.

“Are you speaking from personal experience? Or just yapping like you always do?” You take a step towards him. He raises his eyebrows.

“Yapping?” He laughs.

“Maybe you should stop talking, your voice is becoming hoarse,” you say indignantly. How dare he insinuate that you hated him and now want him. Neither were true. You think.

“What if I don’t? What if I decide to recite every word of the Lord of the Rings novels to you?” He lifts his chin, his voice teasing.

“You don’t have the gall,” you grumble in annoyance. Mr. Eidetic memory with his very own weapon. You lean place your palms on the back of his wooden chair, briefly glancing at the case file in front of him, hoping he wouldn’t…

"When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton…”

“Not another word or something awful might befall you and you may end up in the hospital again,” you flick his ear.

He lulls his head back and dramatically feigns choking to death. Before you know it both of you are laughing.

Somehow your hand ends up resting on his shoulder, causing the laughter to slow until you both were painfully aware of the physical contact.

You clear your throat and gesture at the file.

“What was, um what is her cause of death again?” You already knew but you needed to say something to distract from the sudden shift in energy. “Which organ was pierced…” you clarify.

He glanced back and upward at you, those eyes full of something you’d never seen from him. A sense of uncertainty, vulnerability, and need?

You’re unsure why, as though being controlled by a force outside of yourself but you trail your hand up his neck, gently massaging the back of his head. Goosebumps prickle his neck as he turns his attention back to the table. You don’t miss the white knuckled grip on the pen.

“All of them took an arrow to the heart, that’s a shared trait,” his voice is low, distracted.

“A signature?” You hum and run your fingers through the longer hair at the top of his head. The strands are soft, moving between your fingers gently as you soothingly massage his head.

You hear him groan deep in his chest and he’s inadvertently leaning his head into your touch. You swallow hard, unsure about this sudden need to touch him. More than that, you wanted to hear other noises he could make.

“Second arrows hit various organs between the victims,” he leans forward from your grip to lay the photos out.

The absence of him causes you to frown, but you turn to the white board.

“He’s a skilled marksmen if he could hit them all in the heart in the darker locations where they died,” you state the obvious and write it on the board.

“Military training?” He asks.

“Not with bow and arrows, he may have had personal lessons. Ask Garcia to check with archery ranges inside of the geographical profile,” you say.

He shoots Garcia a text and places his phone down awaiting results.

You’re scribbling on the board when you hear him approach, he’s behind you, so devastatingly close that you can hear him breathing. His body heat warms your back, you falter but keep writing.

Now your body is tingling because he leans his mouth closer to your ear, fanning his breath across your neck.

“You spelled ‘toxophilite’ wrong,” he whispers. You flatten your hand over the word and smudge the blue ink.

“Maybe if you weren’t standing so close,” you hiss.

“Do you want me to move?” He reaches up and sweeps your hair back over your shoulder. You don’t respond, you stop breathing. Stop thinking.

You shudder when his lips find the soft spot of your neck, small kisses planted delicately until your own moan escapes you.

“That pesky line between hatred and desire,” he tutts and steps back.

You bite your tongue, after all you teased him first. The simple touch of his lips on your skin had your body heated up and your insides twisted with need.

You contemplated throwing the marker at his big head as he leaned over the table but refrained.

It was probably for the best because Hotch and Garcia rang in on FaceTime.

Whatever the hell was happening with you and Spence was going to take time. Luckily, the team had given you both the leeway needed to heal. Who knows what’ll happen in the mean time.

[wcters]

𝗜 𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗦 𝗬𝗢𝗨, 𝗜’𝗠 𝗦𝗢𝗥𝗥𝗬

pairing: lando norris x fem!singer!reader (faceclaim is gracie abrams)

summary: the falling out of one of formula one’s favourite couple

warnings: angst, cheating, get ready to get angryyyy, swearing, some crack, lando is the bad guy in this (sorry), this was honestly soo fun to write, let me know if you want a part two…. and if it should be with lando or someone else 😙😙

f1gossip

liked by user1, user2, and 24,973 others

f1gossip lando norris seen out a club in monaco with a mysterious women. is there trouble in paradise between lando norris and his current girlfriend, y/n y/l/n?

view all 126 comments

user1 ummm what?

user2 lando . . . what did you do

user3 i cant defend this one

user4 did they break up??

↳ user5 i kind of hope he did or else he’s cheating on her

user6 this HAS TO be a prank

user7 rue… when was this?

user8 if they broke up, WHAT’S HAPPENING WITH BERNIE

↳ user9 who’s bernie?

↳ user8 their dog, cutest thing ever

yourusername

liked by lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux, and 545,973 others

yourusername i miss you, i’m sorry out now 🤍 i poured my heart and soul, and some tears, into this song. hope you all like it❤️‍🩹

view all 2,375 comments

user1 WHAT DOES THIS MEAN

user2 lando when i catch you lando

lilymhe so proud of you ❤️

user4 is this confirmation they broke up??

alexandrasaintmleux truly a piece of art 💞 always here

francisca.cgomes you’re so brave ❤️ missing you

user5 y/n you’re breaking my heart

danielricciardo we’ve all got your back ❤️

�� heidiberger_ hell yeah we do!

user6 what do lily’s and daniel’s comments mean?

f1gossip

liked by user1, user2, and 34,901 others

f1gossip lando norris seen with the same mysterious girl from the night out in monaco in the paddock. is it over between lando and y/n?

view all 275 comments

user1 did you guys see the looks of disgust from the girls

↳ user2 they were planning on how to kill him

user3 he really fucked this one up

user4 y/n was there too but with daniel at his garage this time

↳ user5 he’s such a good friend to her

↳ user6 she avoided the mclaren garage at all times 😭 she’s obviously so heartbroken. and there was so many times where the girls were hugging her

user7 so is this conformation??

landonorris added to their story!

yourusername posted to their story!

yourspam

liked by artsyfartsyalex, totallynotdaniel, and 23 others

yourspam at least breaking up with someone creates a good album . . . but what was that fake ass story?

view all 17 comments

artsyfartyalex oh jolie fille ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

totallynotdaniel let’s run him over

↳ yourusername DANNY NO

↳ totallynotdaniel DANNY YES

professionalchili baby 😢😢 we can send the cats after him

↳ lilyswag we totally can

↳ yourusername you don’t need to, just let me see them againnn

smoothoperator i’m prepared to push him out of the next race

↳ tposebrat same

↳ lilyswag same

↳ simbasmom same

↳ yourusername girl 💀 you can’t drive an f1 car

↳ simbasmom i can find a way

nascarpastry sincerely apologize for my teammate

↳ yourusername you are too sweet 🥺 thank you oscar

berniethedog flame his ass

↳ yourusername daniel is this you?

↳ berniethedog noooo

newgirlfriend

liked by landonorris, user1, and 204,863 others

newgirlfriend this happens once every few lifetimes 🤍

view all 847 comments

user1 she did not….

user2 😐😐😐

landonorris 🖤

user3 not the black and white hearts…. she’s literally trying to copy y/n with the white and hearts…. and he’s playing along

danielricciardo 🤨🤨🤨

↳ user4 he’s thinking the same thing we are

↳ user5 on the public account too

user6 daniel is so real for that reaction

user7 i feel so bad for y/n, first the breakup and then this

youusername

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, 809,768 others

yourusername good riddance coming to you in 5 days🤍 this was written with all my emotion and love and heartbreak. big thank you to my friends and family for being by my side through this, especially daniel and heidi for being my number one fans. i love you both so much 😭😭

view all 2,634 comments

danielricciardo streaming it right when it’s out!

user1 lando norris is my opp

user2 i’m not ready 😭😭😭

user3 i know he said it was mutual but her lyrics say different…

alexandrasaintmleux me, charles and leo are streaming it now!

user4 my heart is actually breaking with these lyrics

user5 “and i swear to god, i’d kill you if i loved you less hard” BABE

lilymhe beautiful ❤️

oscarpiastri great album!

↳ user6 he’s so awkward 😭

↳ user7 he’s got the spirit though

user8 even oscar’s on y/n’s side

user9 if you look at the credits for 405 it mentions daniel as a guitarist 😭😭 they love each other so much

newgirlfriend so good!

do not answer ‼️

do not answer ‼️

hey, can we talk?

[whytheylosttheirminds]

Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 5 (part two)

(Rafe Cameron x Reader series, 3.8k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

⇢ series masterlist

Years later, you’d still wonder if Topper did it all on purpose. 

When you asked him, he’d just wink and say “bet you’d like to know.” 

As your group walked down the dock towards the rental kiosk, Topper pulled out his phone, grinning down at the screen.

“What’s funny?” Carter tried to read over his shoulder.

“Nothing,” he tucked his phone in his pocket quickly, failing to hide the cheeky look in his eyes, zero poker face. “Kelce is coming.”

The guy Carter had haggled with brought your group over to the three jet skis and gave you a demonstration on how to drive them. You weren’t paying very close attention, more focused on the uneven pairing of the five of you and how to ensure you didn’t end up on the same jet ski as Tom. His rudeness this morning was the final nail in the coffin of your crush.

The guy gave Carter three keys, and you met her eyes, knowing she was thinking the same thing. 

Topper looked at Carter hopefully, his big puppy dog eyes watching her with anticipation. You felt for him, the two of you really weren’t all that different. Sure, he’d gotten to hook up with Carter plenty of times, his crush not totally unrequited, but she’d never given him what he really wanted. At the end of the day, you were just two people who were really good at loving people who didn’t love you back. Still, you knew in your heart of hearts that Carter did love him back, even if she wouldn’t admit it. Maybe you would never get your dream, but you could make sure that two people you cared about got theirs, and that might be the only thing that made this all worth it.

You planned it out quick, knowing Carter was seconds from asking you to ride with her so you wouldn’t be with Tom, and also knowing that what she really wanted was an afternoon alone with Topper.

“I told Kelce I’d ride with him,” you blurted out. 

“Did you?” Carter asked skeptically, trying to figure you out.

“Yeah, I think he’s still worried I’m mad at him,” you made up off the top of your head. “Thought I’d throw him a bone.”

Carter watched you the whole time she boarded the back of Topper’s jet ski, telling him to wait up so they didn’t leave you alone. Tom and Sabrina didn’t seem to care about leaving you, speeding off the second they climbed on their jet ski, Sabrina’s over-the-top shrieks echoing through the air.

“That bother you?” Topper asked when he caught you scowling in their direction.

“Actually, I’m thinking they might be made for each other,” you concluded.

“So you’re not, like, into him?” Topper asked hopefully.

“Not anymore. That ship sailed so quick,” you snorted.

“Ah,” he tried to play it cool, “good to know.” 

“Don’t get any fucking ideas,” Carter warned him.

“I didn’t say anything!” He insisted.

“You don’t have to, you have zero poker face,” Carter said. “No Tom does not equal yes Rafe.”

“I’m just saying it’s good to know. Am I not allowed to know things?” 

You rolled your eyes at their bickering, less than surprised they were having this conversation right in front of you.

“Y’know, you guys can just take off, I’ll be fine waiting for Kelce,” you offered, desperate to move this conversation about your love life out to sea and away from you.

“Right, Kelce,” Topper nodded. “Kelce is coming.”

“Why are you being so weird?!” Carter squinted at him.

“I’m not! I just wanna go!” Topper revved the engine of the jet ski.

Carter looked at you one more time, checking that you were okay with this.

“Have fun!” You said to reassure her.

That’s all Topper needed to hear, he hit the throttle and pulled away from the dock as fast as he could. Carter’s laughter filled the air, she grabbed him tight and tucked her chin in the crook of his shoulder as he drove. She was happy, so you were happy. Your whole life, that’s really all it took, and you knew she felt the same way about you.

With that lovely thought, you climbed on the jet ski so you’d be ready to go as soon as Kelce arrived. 

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Rafe held the keys a little too tight, Kelce struggling to pry them from his hands.

“You gotta take it easy on the clutch, she’s sensitive.”

“I know how to drive, man,” Kelce wriggled the keys from his grip as he climbed into the driver’s seat of Rafe’s truck.

Rafe stalled by the door for a minute, his feet suddenly feeling very heavy. He looked around the marina, scanning for the group. His heart skipped a beat when he found only you, bobbing in the water on your jet ski all alone.

He’d texted Topper a head’s up that he was coming and asked him to let you know. He didn’t want you to think he was in on Topper’s dumbass scheme to get you two together. If he was gonna do this he was gonna do it right, not try to trick you into it.

Now you were waiting for him, looking so gorgeous with your legs on either side of the seat and your hair blowing gently in the wind. 

Usually, he didn’t call girls beautiful, typically opting for hot, or sometimes pretty if he was drunk. But the only word for you right now, and always, was beautiful.

“You gonna let me leave, man?” Kelce asked, gesturing to Rafe’s hands, still clutching the handle of the door.

“Yeah, sorry,” Rafe pulled away, wiping his hand against his board shorts when he realized it was clammy, the sight of you making him nervous in a way he had never been before.

“What’s got you so worried? Are you scared of her or something?” Kelce mocked him.

Rafe was surprised that Kelce had actually caught on to who he was looking at, giving him an annoyed eye roll.

“I’m not scared of her,” he defended himself.

“Don’t even worry about it man, I bet she’s still wrapped around your finger.”

Rafe shot Kelce a steely warning look he’d given him a thousand times.

“I’m just saying, you don’t need to worry,” Kelce explained. “You’re the man.”

Kelce was an idiot, and he spent a good ninety percent of their friendship pissing Rafe off, but he always tried to hype Rafe up. Usually he was annoyed by it, but right now, he actually needed it.

You used to talk about him that way, too. Oh, the money he would pay for you to see him in a good light again. He’d swim across this entire bay just to hear one kind word about him coming from your lips. 

“Nah, I’m really not,” he shook his head slightly, looking back toward you. “But I think with her I could be.”

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The audacity, the fucking nerve of him to come strolling down the dock looking that good. The sun actually broke through the crowds at his arrival, like he’d bribed the gods. He strolled towards you so casually, his grin easy, like he didn’t know he was the most attractive man you’d ever seen in real life. It pissed you off.

“What are you doing here?” You snapped at him when he reached you.

His grin faltered, like he was the one surprised to see you.

“Didn’t Topper tell you I was coming?” He asked.

“No, of course he didn’t,” you said, finally understanding the reason for Topper’s strangeness earlier.

“I asked him to,” Rafe swore. “I didn’t want to make you think I was trying to-”

“I think I’m just gonna go alone,” you cut him off, turning the key in the engine of the jet ski, desperate to put an ocean between you and him before he said another considerate thing that he’d just undo later. “You can rent your own.”

“No can do,” said the owner, arriving to hand Rafe a lifejacket. “This is our last one. You better take your boyfriend with you, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes at the situation and the misogynistic comment. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you mumbled. 

Rafe felt the correction was unnecessary, but you didn’t seem to be in the mood for constructive feedback at the moment.

“Is it cool if I, uh, can I come with you?” He wasn’t walking back down this dock without trying.

“Fine,” you agreed reluctantly. “But I’m driving.”

“Good with me,” he climbed on quickly before you could change your mind.

With a kick that sent you both lurching forward, the jet ski roared as you tightened your hand on the throttle. Instinctually, Rafe’s hands landed on your side, holding you both in place. You only had a second to feel the pads of his fingers clinging to the soft skin of your waist before he pulled them away.

“Shit, sorry,” he said.

The guy on the dock leaned forward to push the jet ski from the dock, redirecting you out toward the bay.

“No, actually you should hold on,” he instructed. “These babies go fast and it’s a little choppy out there today. Take it real easy out of the marina and then you can kick it up when you’re in open water.”

You could feel Rafe’s hands twitch with hesitancy before they rested on your sides again, so lightly you wondered if he was actually touching you at all.

With a push, you drifted out to sea, slowly picking up speed with the turn of the throttle.

“Do you want me to let go?” He asked, leaning in so you could hear him over the roar of the motor.

Somehow, you thought two completely conflicting thoughts at the exact same time:

Yes, now.

and

No, never.

You settled on, “whatever.”

Rafe started to let go, but the jet ski hit the wake of a nearby boat, and you both nearly flew off the seat. His grip tightened protectively, practically pinning your body down. With his strong hands on you so firmly, it felt like you could hit a tidal wave and he’d still have you in his grasp. You needed more of whatever that was.

Your laughter filled the salty air as you purposefully drove you and Rafe over the choppiest patches of the water, hair whipping behind you into his face, and he didn’t even care. He watched you in the side view mirror on the front of the jet ski, memorizing every inch of your smile like he’d never see it again.

“Jesus, are you trying to kill us?” He teased, yelling over the woosh of the wind.

“It’d be a fun way to go!” You yelled back, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

Rafe’s hands still on your waist, you felt him lean in slightly. Even with two lifejackets between you, the proximity of your bodies was electrifying. You could feel his strong thighs on either side of your hips, closing you in everytime you hit a bump, securing you in place. You wondered if he was doing it on purpose or if it was just his instinct, you didn’t know which was hotter.

The water rushed behind you, a foamy wake marking your path as you continued driving as fast as you could. The others must’ve gone a different way out of the marina, because they were nowhere in sight. The sky was darkening slightly, the shift in weather causing most boats to drive the opposite way, back to the docks. But you just kept going, and Rafe didn’t tell you to turn around, both drunk on the adrenaline of the speed and the feeling of each other’s skin.

After a particularly jostling bump, the engine sputtered slightly.

“Fuck, what was that?” You puzzled, turning the throttle harder but gaining no speed.

“Here, you gotta twist it like this,” Rafe’s arms wrapped around you, his hands covering yours as he guided you to turn the throttle in the exact way you just were.

“That’s exactly what I was doing,” you bickered. “It’s not working.”

“Maybe I should drive?”

“It’s not my driving, something’s wrong with the jet ski,” you argued, swatting his hands away. 

“Can you just let me try?” He argued back.

“No, you’re making it worse!” 

The engine continued to sputter until it cut completely, causing both your bodies to lunge forward as it came to an abrupt halt.

“Rafe what did you do?” You accused him.

“What did I do? You wouldn’t even let me touch it!” He snapped.

You turned the key in the ignition over and over. The jet ski growled a few times but never started back up. Eventually, you gave up with a frustrated huff.

“I think we’re out of gas,” you conceded.

“Well, did you ask the guy if it was filled before you left?” Rafe questioned.

“Oh, so now this is my fault?” You craned your neck to see him, anger in your eyes.

“No, that’s not-”

“I’m so tired of this, Rafe.”

“We’ve only been out here for like a minute.”

“No, not this,” you motioned toward the water, “this,” you motioned between you and him.

“Oh. Me?” He tried and failed to hide his hurt feelings.

“Not you, just, all this back and forth. One second we’re having a good time and the next you’re pulling away or snapping at me. I have fucking whiplash.”

“Are you sure it’s not just from the jet ski?” He attempted a joke, it only half worked.

“How are we gonna get back?” You redirected the conversation before he could see you were smirking.

“A boat will come by,” he said confidently. “We’ll be fine.”

No boats came by in the following minute, or the following five. You sat in tense silence, your previous words still hanging between you. Your head hurt from the wind and trying to figure this man out.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, almost inaudible. “I know I’m…difficult.”

You turned your neck, not quite far enough to see him, but enough to let him know you were listening, that he should go on.

“I don’t know how to act around you,” he admitted. “One second I feel like I’ve fucked it up so bad that there’s not even a point in trying to fix it and the next…”

This time, you do turn, twisting your torso so you could look him intently in the eyes, imploring him to say something right for once, begging him not to let you fall off this cliff alone again.

“…you look at me like that,” he almost whispered. “And then I think fuck it, I’d try forever if you let me.”

For the first time ever, he was with you on the way down, finally jumping together.

“Can I?” He asked, voice low.

“Can you what?” you blinked at him slowly, the moment so surreal you worried it wasn’t happening, that you’d wake up in Carter’s bed, all of this day just one long fever dream.

“Fix things…with you?”

“I don’t know.”

It was the most honest answer you could give him.

“Can I try?” His voice broke slightly when he said it, and you could feel the vulnerability leaking through the cracks.

“Yeah,” you gave in.

“I miss you,” he breathed, and your heart felt heavy with longing and resentment at the same time.

“I don’t think you ever really knew me, Rafe,” you said, turning to face forward again, sad eyes scanning the horizon. “You never paid close enough attention.”

He thought over your words, and you could feel that there was something brewing in his mind, a decision he was making. When he finally spoke again, it wasn’t the words you expected.

“What’s your favorite color?”

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as you said, “huh?”

“Just tell me,” he smiled back, even though you weren’t looking, you could hear it in his voice.

You answered him, and he followed that question up with another, and another, and they kept rolling off his tongue and you kept answering, until the strangeness of it faded and the two of you were just talking.

For over an hour, you drifted, leaning forward on the handlebars with your back to him as Rafe asked you questions and listened intently to your long, detailed answers. You were hesitant, just at first. No one had ever let you talk this long without interrupting you. No one had ever wanted so badly to hear what you had to say. He nodded along to everything, responding with thoughtful mhms and carefully worded follow up questions.

After a while, you forgot about the surrealness of it all, where you were, who you were with. It was just you and your old friend, sharing your lives with each other. 

I could do this for a long time, you thought, like maybe forever.

Everytime you thought he must be bored by now, he just kept asking, hanging on every word like he was collecting them for some secret project.

“What do you want to do after you graduate?” and “Who’s your closest friend?” and “Are you still into that one band?” and eventually, when he was running low on ideas, “what’s the last movie you saw?”

You laughed. 

“What?” He asked with a timidness that squeezed your heart.

“The last movie I saw was the last movie you saw,” you reminded him.

“Oh, right,” he chuckled, but there was an edge to it.

“It’s a good movie, though,” you leaned back toward him a little, trying to pull him from whatever thoughts were causing his spirit to fall. “My favorite.”

He nodded, “Tom did a nice job putting together that little shindig.”

“I guess so,” you said, not sure how to proceed.

“You know he plays football for U of F?” He said. “Or did I guess, before he graduated.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, he was All American,” he nodded. You’d give all the money you had for one glimpse of what was going on in his head.

“He’s an impressive guy,” he admitted. “I can see why you’d end up in his room.”

“Rafe, oh my god,” you huffed, standing suddenly. Your body rose above him, his eyes tracking every movement. You swung your leg over the seat, flipping around so you were facing him, sitting back down so you could look him in the eyes when you said, “I didn’t sleep in Tom’s room.”

“Oh.”

It was all he could muster up, his throat going dry from both the embarrassment he felt for being wrong and the sudden proximity of your bodies. He willed himself not to let his eyes travel down to the way your lifejacket was pushing your chest together, or the soft skin of your bare thighs, now spread open in front of him as you straddled the seat. He kept his eyes on yours, the most respectful option, though it didn’t help his speechlessness. The uninterrupted contact with your beautiful irises nearly put him over the edge. He almost hoped no boats would come by after all so he could look into your eyes for hours.

“Is that why you got up and left last night?” You questioned, not missing the way his eyes were trained intensely on yours.

“The floor was uncomfortable,” he mumbled.

“The floor,” you nodded, “the floor was uncomfortable. Got it.”

“You're mad at me again,” he surmised.

“When was I ever not mad at you?” 

“I dunno,” he shrugged sarcastically, “somewhere between the movie and your panties hitting the floor.”

You wanted to slap him. And kiss him. He could tell, teasing you with a sideways smirk. You tried to channel the newfound confidence you’d had last night, addicted to the taste of power.

You leaned forward, hands on the leather seat between you, looking up at him with hooded eyes.

“Did you like that?” 

“You know I did.” 

He responded so fast and his voice was so low you couldn’t tell if he was pissed off or turned on. Either way, he wasn’t fucking around anymore.

“Then why didn’t you stay?” 

It felt like that one question held so many questions, and based on the look on his face, you knew he could hear it too. You weren’t just asking about last night, you weren’t just asking why he went to sleep on the couch. You were asking about years of him coming up short, why he’d failed you so many times, why he never, ever seemed to pick you.

“I didn’t know you wanted me to.”

As he said it, the wind kicked up, and the jet ski began to rock even harder as waves rose and fell beneath you. One particularly choppy wave had you tilting a little too far off the seat, and Rafe’s hands landed on your waist again. This time, there was nothing hesitant about it. When you didn’t push him away, his thumb brushed an experimental circle into your skin.

“Do you want me to let go?”

In lieu of answering, your hands came to rest over his. He assumed you were gonna pull them off of you, and for a moment you thought you might too, but then his words echoed in your mind: he didn’t know you wanted him to.

You could do this. You could lean into it and just let it happen. You were supposed to fight it, make him grovel more, make him pay you back for the years you’d waited. It’s what everyone expected. You were only a few hundred yards off shore, but the rest of the world felt lightyears away, and out here, there was nothing stopping you letting him touch you, kiss you, have you. You could just let it happen, and no one would have to know.

But before you could decide if you wanted to, a deep rumble of thunder broke out across the sky.

“Shit,” you jumped. 

“We gotta get out of here,” Rafe looked up at the darkening sky nervously.

“But how?” 

“How well can you swim?”

That’s how Rafe ended up in the water, gripping the back of the jet ski as the waves rocked it harshly, water splashing up and landing on your feet. You tightened your lifejacket, feeling apprehensive about the whole thing.

“I can just push us if you want to stay on,” Rafe offered.

“No, it’ll go faster if it’s both of us.”

You stepped to the edge, hesitating, wanting to rip the bandaid and just jump in but not wanting to jump too far off and get separated. Your indecision cost you, your foot slipped and you dropped into the water, your leg scraping against the edge of the jet ski as you fell. 

Blinded by pain, you reached for Rafe as your head slipped under the surface, but your hands came up empty.

(Chapter 6: part one)

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a/n: as always, sorry for any tag errors!!! I never leave ppl off on purpose so pls let me know! to be first to know when a new chapter drops follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs 😘

[moonstruckme]

summary: when James moves into your apartment, you need a bit of an adjustment period

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1k words

You go downstairs the way a meerkat pokes its head out of its burrow. Cautious, watchful. When you spot James standing over a sizzling pan in the kitchen, it’s a bit of effort not to sigh, but you go anyway, hunger temporarily taking priority over solitude. It’s just going to have to be another quick meal.

“Hey.” James looks up from a recipe he’s reading on his phone, grinning at you. 

You press your lips together in a smile of response. The girl who’d occupied James’ room before him wouldn’t have bothered to acknowledge you, and frankly, you’d liked her for that. You’d had a mutually ambivalent relationship; you’d both paid your rent, ignored the other’s food in the fridge, and gone about your days as if you each had the apartment to yourself. She had to move out because the maintenance crew tattled on her for having a pet, and though James only moved in a week ago, he’s invited you to hang out with his friends every time they’ve come over. Which is often. (He’s at least considerate enough to always ask first, and you always say yes. Partially because they don’t make huge messes and partially because you don’t know how to reply to a yes/no question any other way.) 

You go to the fridge, tearing the aluminum foil off a half-empty can of beans and shaking it into a bowl. You put it in the microwave. James reaches to turn down the stove, and, like a frightened animal, you flinch away from him. He doesn’t seem to notice, only retreating to the opposite counter to give you more room. 

“How’s your day going?” he asks, leaning back on his forearms. 

“Not bad,” you say. Another thing about James is that in addition to his relentless geniality, he’s ferociously attractive. It takes all of your willpower not to let your eyes dip from his face to where his short sleeves conform to his biceps when he leans that way, but your face heats regardless. “Yours?” 

“Pretty good, actually.” He smiles easily. “It’s gorgeous out, have you felt the weather?” 

You shake your head. “I haven’t been out yet.” 

James nods like he knows this already, humming noncommittally. You think you spy a bit of judgment in his look, but you can’t be sure. “So,” he says, “I have something to ask you.” 

You tense. “Okay…” 

“I know you value your privacy, and I totally respect that, but I feel like as your roommate it’s my responsibility to at least ask.” 

You feel your eyes narrowing as you nod for him to continue. 

James schools his face into seriousness, a frown on his lips that looks like it doesn’t belong. “Do you not eat?” 

You laugh, relieved and bemused. “Of course I eat.”

The smile he gives you is strained, clearly for your benefit rather than his. “You sure about that? Because this morning I just saw you have one—one—piece of toast for breakfast, and then for lunch you had…what?” 

You shy, more because of his notice than anything else. The microwave beeps and you use it as an excuse to turn around. “Some cheese and crackers.” 

When you pivot with the steaming bowl, James is looking at you incredulously.

“They’re really filling!” 

“That’s a snack, love, not a meal. Both of those are snacks. Did you have anything else?” 

You hold up the bowl in your hand. “I’m about to have some beans.” 

His laugh is monosyllabic. Appalled. “You’re not serious.” 

You roll your eyes at him even as your face heats. “Listen, it’s not my most nutritious day, but I’ve been in a rush, and…” You were going to say more, but decide against it. “Anyway, there’s protein in the beans, so.” 

James isn’t having it. “And what?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Something.” He raises his eyebrows at you. “C’mon, spill, or I’m going to call your mum and tell her about your big day of—“ He draws quotes in the air, full lips curving he does “—beans and crackers.” 

“And toast,” you joke. James’ smile is small and short-lived. Does he really have your mum’s phone number? He can’t possibly. 

You sigh. “Okay, it’s nothing to do with you, but I…I’m a bit weird about being in the kitchen at the same time.” James’ thick eyebrows meet in the middle, and your shoulders hunch instinctively but you force yourself to finish explaining. “I just want to grab whatever is quickest and go before I make things awkward, or something. But I know it’s stupid.” You shake your head. You could burn the apartment to cinders with the heat from your face. “I don’t own the kitchen. You have every right to be here, and I’ll get used to it eventually. It’s just that you’re new to me right now.” 

James' expression clears. “Oh, you’re shy.” 

You must look even more embarrassed at that, because he hurries to say, “That’s alright, it’s good to know how you feel about things. And now I don’t have to call your mum.” He grins, and it widens when you make a tiny effort to reciprocate. “I don’t mind stepping out of the kitchen so you can cook every now and then.”

“You really don’t have to.” 

“It’s no trouble.” He waves you off. “Honestly, it’s too small for both of us to comfortably use at the same time anyway. Careful by the way, that pan’s hot.” 

You glance behind you, and you’ve backed yourself nearly into the stove. You move away, squeaking out a thanks. 

James’ smile softens. “I do hope you're right about getting used to me eventually, though.” He gives you a kind look, and you have no idea how he can maintain eye contact with that much sincerity in his big brown eyes. You envy the skill. “I’d like to get to be friends, but we’ve got time for that.” 

You’ve no clue how to respond, some deer-in-the-headlights instinct taking ahold of you, but James doesn’t seem to be expecting one. He reaches out to squeeze your shoulder, taking back his place at the stove. You take that as your cue to go.

[runariya]

Masterlist • Off The Market

coming soon…

summary: Due to a bizarre clerical error, you and Jungkook find yourselves legally married after what was supposed to be a routine business deal signing. Instead of fixing it right away, Jungkook convinces you to "sEe WhErE tHiS gOeS" especially since the press already got hold of the story. pairing: CEO!Jungkook x rival CEO!female reader genre: rom-com, rivals 2 lovers, "forced" marriage, forced proximity, slow-burn, angst rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: strong language, slow burn, angst, alcohol consumption, fluff, jealousy, possessiveness, a bit of obsession, explicit sexual content, dom!JK, sub!reader, pls check each part for specific warnings! total word count: tba

a/n: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

1 • „This is just business.“

2 • „People are eating this up.“

3 •  „I’m not putting a shirt on.“

4 • „At least pretend.“

5 • „They’ve been waiting for this moment for years, so don’t fuck up.“

6 • „I’ll touch you how the fuck I want.“

7 • „This could be us, darling.“

8 • „Of course I care.“

9 • „Kneel.“

10 • „Don’t embarrass me.“

11 • „Starting something you can’t finish?“

12 • „Surprise.“

13 • „Why are you always pushing me away?“

14 • „Knight in shining armour, no?“ 

15 • „Is it so hard to trust me?!“

16 • „Of course you do.“

17 • „Perfect lil hubby.“

18 • „You’ve never been the cold one.“

19 • „You could’ve fooled me.“

20 • „Keep crossing the line.“

21 • „You’re mine.“

22 • „You think I don’t notice?“

23 • „Look closely, wifey.“

24 • „What if this was real?“

25 • „You can’t keep running from me.“

26 • „Tell me you don’t care.“

27 • „Are you jealous?“

28 • „What if I’m missing you?“

29 • „Take him, I don’t care.“

30 • „Clock’s ticking.“

31 • „The most beautiful woman in my life.“

32 • „Are you gonna leave?“

33 • „This wasn’t supposed to happen?“

34 • „I can’t lose you.“

35 • „You don’t get to decide how I feel.“

36 • „I do.“

37 • „It’s us.“

Bonus

All Rights Reserved © @runariya 2024

[ellecdc]

mother!!!! that recent poly!marauders + lily fic had me WEAK. if you please, could you write a part two where shy!reader finds out remus is a werewolf? I could see rem really not wanting her to find out bc he doesn’t want to scare her, but maybe severus(or somebody) spills the beans thinking she already knew, or she overheard a conversation between the boys. she’d be accepting of course, but remus freaks out when she finds out. just a lot of comfort and reassurance.

hope that gives you some inspiration, also, totally don’t have to write it if you don’t want to, of course!!! ilysm 🖤💚

I took this in a bit of a different direction but the ending's just the same! thanks so much sweets <3 <3

pt 1 // pt 2 // pt 3 // pt 4 // pt 5

4.6k words

poly!marauders + lily x shy!reader who learns about Remus' furry little problem

CW: miscommunication trope, insecurities, angst [with a happy ending], reader is feeling incredibly insecure in this fic, James cries, Sirius cries a little bit too but they all pretend not to notice for his sake

You felt terribly foolish; no, you felt worse. You felt absolutely humiliated and you had no one to blame but yourself.

And now that you were here - ‘here’ being rushing to the dungeons to lock yourself in the Hufflepuff dormitories for the next foreseeable future - you aren’t sure how you had convinced yourself that this was going to end any other way. 

It was a pipedream at best, thinking you had any place amongst the infamous Marauders and the princess of Gryffindor, and it was delusional at worst. 

Of course they’d grow weary of you, of course they’d find your nerves and anxiety tiresome, of course they’d wind up bored of accommodating you when they were all so much more than you. 

What had you been thinking? How did you manage to allow yourself to believe that this was anything but a phase for them - they saw you as a challenge, they beat the challenge, and now they were through with you. 

You thought that the sweet looks, the kisses, the affection, the effort all meant more than it obviously did.

At least to them.

To you, it meant the world.

To them, it was a chore.

You were a chore.

Foolish girl. 

You had been on your way to the library to meet up with the boys and Lily to study for the upcoming Herbology test. It was the first real group ‘date’ after the sketchiness that usually followed Remus about once a month that no one else seemed inclined to comment on, so neither did you.

Except…except, this time, some lingering tension seemed to follow the bout of sketchiness. 

And still, no one seemed particularly inclined to comment on it.

And you couldn’t help but feel like you were out of the loop somehow, but you chalked that up to being a newer addition to the dynamic, and not living with them in Gryffindor tower.

That is until you happened to be walking out of their view behind the stacks of books that their table was situated by when you overheard their conversation. 

“You’re going to have to say something to her, Rem. This is getting out of hand.” You heard Lily say solemnly, earning her a pained groan from Remus’ lips, causing you to pause behind the stacks so as to not interrupt their conversation.

“Can’t we just ignore this? Just for a little longer?” Remus bargained. “I mean, it can’t be that bad?”

“It’s worse, Moons.” Sirius corrected. 

“Y/N’s so sensitive though.” James added. “I mean, how would that conversation even go? How do you tell her something like that?”

“It has to come from Remus.” Lily stated matter-of-factly. 

Remus let out a long-suffering sigh. “And how do you suggest I go about this?”

“Listen.” Sirius asserted. “I don’t bloody care how we tell her, but we have to say something. I cannot keep living like this; it’s exhausting.”

Lily made a tsking sound and placed a consoling hand on Sirius’ shoulder as Remus let out another sigh.

“I know, I know; I’m sorry you guys. I thought we could ignore it but…I don’t think we can anymore.”

Lily, Sirius, and James all made a hum of acknowledgement.

“I think we ought to just rip the bandaid off and hope she understands.” Lily said.

You felt your stomach migrate to your throat as you turned on your heels and fled the library.

Is that what all the tension was about? Is that what this library study date was? Just a ruse to sit you down so they could break up with you?

Of course it was, idiot. You scolded yourself.  They were foolish to entertain the likes of you for any amount of time. 

So now you were here - ‘here’ being rushing to the dungeons to lock yourself in the Hufflepuff dormitories for the next foreseeable future - and you aren’t sure how you had convinced yourself that this was going to end any other way. 

“Do you think I should do it tonight?” Remus asked Lily as she finally sat down. 

“I think it would be best if we did, sweetheart. I just can’t help feeling like we’re keeping her at arms length by keeping it a secret, you know?”

“I agree.” Sirius said quickly. “It feels like she’s more of a guest than actually part of the relationship whilst we’re keeping something so big from her.” 

“I just don’t want her to hate me.” Remus admitted in a whisper.

“Remmy.” James cooed from the other side of Sirius. “Our sweet little Puffle seems completely incapable of hatred. But you know we’ve got your back 110% if she’s not accepting of you, right?”

The other two nodded in agreement but Remus only grimaced. “It just feels like I’d be ruining the relationship for all of you if the only person she has a problem with is me.” 

“Impossible.” Sirius replied emphatically. “Anyone who has a problem with you has a problem with us, Moons.”

“Even if we weren’t dating, Rem, if someone didn’t respect my friend - or anyone, for that matter - because of their lycanthropy, I wouldn’t want them around anyways.” Lily agreed.

“I don’t think we’ll have a problem, though.” Sirius continued. “Like Prongs said, she’s our sweet girl; I’m sure she’ll handle this fine.”

“Where is she, anyway?” James said, flipping his wrist to check his watch. “She was supposed to meet us like twenty minutes ago.” 

The other three shared a look of bemusement. 

“Do you have the map?” Sirius asked.

James quickly pulled the map from his book bag to scan the parchment for your name. “It says she’s in the Hufflepuff common room?”

“Maybe she forgot?” Lily mused.

“I spoke to her at dinner; she said she was going to change out of her uniform and then meet us here.” Remus replied, feeling his heart rise to his throat with nerves. 

What if she knew? What if she already found out? What if she hated him? 

“Rem, it’s alright.” Lily placated, clearly seeing his concern etched onto his face. “Maybe she wasn’t feeling well, or got caught up with something else.”

“She’s never bailed on us before…” James admitted, looking just as worried as Remus was. “Maybe we should check on her?”

“Why don’t we give her tonight; I think after all the shite we put her through this week, she’s allotted one missed date.” Sirius decided, opting to keep his tone light as he teased Remus for his ‘pre-moon angstiness’ as his partners call it.   

“We’ll catch up with her tomorrow.” Lily decided; and Remus and James shared a look of concern as they relented to study for the upcoming Herbology test without you. 

You weren’t really mad at the Gryffindor’s for their decision to end things with you; at least not at first.

People were allowed to change their minds, and you supposed that was the purpose of dating, right? To see if the person you’re interested in is someone you want to keep around indefinitely?

So, people were allowed to change their mind, and that was okay.

You also couldn’t particularly blame them; you were shy, quiet, timid, awkward in most social settings and certainly not as adventurous as them, it was only a matter of time before they grew bored of you. 

So you hadn’t been mad at them, not at first. 

But you were growing increasingly annoyed at their attempts to force themselves within your space. 

You had opted to sit at the Hufflepuff table for breakfast the next morning; there was no sense sitting at the Gryffindor table with them anymore.

But then you couldn’t handle the feeling of your heart splintering every time you heard Sirius’ bark of laughter or Lily’s giggle at something Remus said or that James did. So you quickly scarfed down your toast and grabbed a muffin to shove in your bag before fleeing from the Great Hall.

What you didn’t notice was James noticing you only as you were leaving, looking incredibly worried.

You nearly shrieked when you exited your Astronomy class that you had with the Ravenclaws and slammed into Sirius’ frame.

“There you are, dolly! We missed you this morning!” He proclaimed as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

You quickly collected yourself; heart racing from the scare and then quickly migrating to your throat out of embarrassment and hurt at this familiarity you had with him only to be about to lose it.

“Sorry, I had been running late.” You said quickly as you headed for the stairs; the long-haired boy quickly keeping up with your steps. 

“Were you feeling alright?” He asked you.

“How do you mean?”

Sirius tilted his head slightly as he considered you. “Well, you didn’t show up to the library last night, and then you were running late this morning; that’s not like you.”

A hot frustrated emotion burned in your chest that you weren’t completely accustomed to feeling. 

Wasn’t he the one to say he couldn’t live like this anymore?

It wasn’t fair of you to be frustrated though, which frustrated you even more; he didn’t know that you had shown up to the library last night, nor that you had gotten to the Great Hall on time.

They hadn’t even noticed you this morning. 

And that’s why they were ending things; you were forgettable, ignorable, unnoticeable. 

“I’m fine, Sirius. Thank you.” You said simply, and quickly headed for the girl’s loo in order to shake him off. 

Remus had approached you in Care of Magical Creatures as well, which somehow hurt more.

Perhaps it was because you knew he was going to be the one to tell you that things were over; though you had thought he’d be better than to break up with you in the middle of class. 

“Hey, dove.” He said as he gently nudged your arm with his elbow; watching as you groomed the puffskein on your table. 

“Hey, Remus.” You said quietly, not removing your eyes from the Beast you were working with.

“I missed you last night.” He admitted quietly. 

Did you? You thought petulantly. 

“Sorry.” You murmured instead. 

“You don’t have to be sorry.” He said as he leaned his elbows on your workbench; if it had been any other student, you’re certain Professor O’Brien would have scolded him for not handling the beasts with adequate caution, but Remus seemed to be allowed certain privileges and the puffskein “Kujo” didn’t seem to mind him much. “I just missed you is all.” 

And he was smiling that sweet, soft smile at you and he seemed like he actually meant it which only further contributed to your ire. 

What happened to ripping the bandaid off? Why keep up this affectionate act if it was only going to end?

Remus looked like he was going to say something when the Professor announced the end of class. 

“I’ll catch up with you later.” You offered quickly before you all but threw Kujo back into his pen and took off towards the castle.

The final straw had to be Herbology, though.

You shared Herbology with the Gryffindors, and because you were a new addition - your the four Gryffindor’s all shared a potting bench whilst you worked alongside another Hufflepuff.

Today, however, it appeared that James had other plans.

Before Sadie-Jane could take her seat beside you, James had plopped himself - rather carefully for the notoriously boisterous quidditch chaser, mind you - on the stool beside you.

“Hey, angel.”

Again, with the pet names. 

It felt torturous at this point; part of you wanted to rip the bandaid off yourself.

But you looked over at the sweet, warm, inviting face of James Potter and any resolve to tell him to shove it completely dissipated. He was all messy curls, round frames, and warm eyes.

And you might have been [must have been] mistaken, but you felt you could see anxiety and worry painted in his features.

You supposed breaking up with someone could do that to a person, though.

“Hi Jamie.” You whispered back as you opted to ready your supplies for today’s lesson.

“I was wondering if you were going to come to the game tonight?” He blurted then, looking slightly embarrassed at his outburst. 

Right…the game. The game against Slytherin. The game that would have you sitting between Remus and Lily as they cheered for James and Sirius. That game. 

“I...uhm, well…”

Rip the bandaid off. 

But it was James. 

And you were in class.

And you could see Lily and Remus trying - and failing - to not look like they were watching you and James whilst Sirius had no such qualms and was actively staring at the two of you. 

“Yeah, I’ll…I’ll see.” You offered James, mustering up what you hoped was a convincing enough smile.

You could tell by the divot that appeared in James’ brows that you were not convincing in the slightest.

Thankfully Professor Sprout appeared then, instructing everyone to take their seats for class to begin, and Sadie-Jane came to claim her seat from the Gryffindor. 

You didn’t go to the game that night.

Gryffindor lost. 

And though you didn’t know at the time, James cried, but it wasn’t about losing to Slytherin. 

“So, why are you hiding in the dorms?” Caroline asked as she rolled away from her open magazine on her bed, clearly preferring potential drama you could offer her than whatever was in this week's Witch Weekly. 

“I’m not hiding.” You muttered back, not looking up from your cross-stitch you were working on instead of, you know, dealing with your problems. 

“Right.” Caroline agreed, not sounding like she agreed with you at all. “That’s why you’ve started and quit several hobbies over the weekend and have been going to the kitchen’s to grab food instead of eating in the Great Hall like a normal person.”

You looked over at your half finished gem ‘paint-by-numbers’, the scarf you’d crocheted that looked more like the skin of a messed up snake that had a terrible time shedding, and the guitar you had borrowed from Fenwick and nearly broke in a fit of rage when you couldn’t get it to sound the way you wanted it too.

“I just…can’t face them right now.” You admitted dejectedly.

“I don’t blame you. Helga, have you seen the lot of them? If I’d known they were accepting more I would have made my shot.” She mused as she laid back on her bed.

Grief and jealousy intertwined within you as you thought about them dating anyone else but you.

But you supposed that was their prerogative; they were allowed to change their minds. 

“Yeah well, you may still have a chance.” You muttered, capturing Caroline’s attention.

“What?” She asked quickly, but you didn’t have a chance to answer before there was a knock on the door. 

“Were you expecting anyone?” She asked with a salacious wink, causing you to glare at her.

“If it’s them, I’m not here; please.” You practically begged your roommate as she rolled her eyes and moved to the door to your dorm room. 

“Oh, hello Evans.” Caroline greeted, causing you to scrunch your eyes closed from your place currently hidden from view of the door. 

“Hi! Erm, is Y/N around?” Lily asked, sounding uncharacteristically awkward.

“Uh…no, she’s not in right now. I can let her know you stopped by, though?” Caroline offered.

You heard Lily thank her before Caroline closed the door again. 

“You sure you don’t want them? ‘Cause those Gryffindor’s are fine.” She sighed as she returned to her bed.

She let out a squawk when your pillow made contact with her head. 

Lily stepped out through the barrel to find Sirius and Remus exactly where she had left them (albeit far more tense) as James came running from down the hall where he had been pacing nervously. 

“Well?” James asked.

Lily pursed her lips. “Her roommate said she wasn’t there.”

Remus looked down at the map to the place where your name was etched beside your roommate’s in the seventh year Hufflepuff girls’ dormitory. 

Either the map was faulty [fat chance], or you were avoiding them.

It was official. 

For whatever reason, they were losing you. 

You had somehow managed to avoid the Gryffindor’s all Monday; taking a moment to thank every deity that you only had Divination with the Gryffindor house, and none of your Gryffindor’s had opted to take it.

You wondered if you could call them your Gryffindor’s anymore…

You had run over to the kitchens - all but a hop skip and a jump from your common room - to grab dinner and were stepping back out through the portrait of the pears when you came face to face with Sirius.

“So nice to see you, Y/N; I’d almost forgotten what your face looked like.” He said; his tone taking on a harsh tone you weren’t accustomed to hearing directed at you causing you to wince.

“Pads…” Remus warned from behind him, though he was looking at you just as warily as Sirius was.

As was James and Lily.

Shit. 

“I’m glad to see you’re still eating…” Remus commented dejectedly as he nodded towards your smorgasbord of a plate that Winky had helped prepare for you that now looked horribly unappetising. 

“I…yes. Erm, what are you guys doing here?” You tried.

It had, apparently, been the wrong thing to say.

Sirius let out a derisive scoff. “Cut the bullshit, Y/N. What the hell has gotten into you?”

“Sirius.” Lily warned.

“Would you guys stop?” He barked back at them before returning his burning gaze back to you. “I’m tired of this; of running around the school looking for you, of being disappointed every time you bail on us, of having to hold James whilst he cries because you’ve let him down, of being lied to. So I’m going to ask again - what the hell has gotten into you?”

“Nothing has gotten into me…” You tried to argue, though it sounded feeble even to your own ears. 

James had cried? You made James cry…

The disappointment in Remus’ eyes, the concern in Lily’s, the anger in Sirius’, the sadness in James’... it was too much, too much, too much. 

“You’re going to stand there and lie to my sodding face?” Sirius asked incredulously.

“Sirius, stop it.” James ordered; his voice far more severe than you have ever heard from him. “Angel, please. Just…just tell us what’s wrong. Tell me what I can do to fix this.”

Any sadness that had settled in your chest bubbled into anger at his word choice.

“Fix this?” You repeated back to him. “Why? Why bother fixing anything if you’re all just going to leave me!?” 

The four Gryffindor’s stood staring at you with different levels of bemusement; Lily and Sirius at your words, Remus and James at you having raised your voice for the first time…well…ever. 

“What do you mean ‘leave you’?” Lily asked cautiously, causing you to scoff. 

“I heard you guys - in the library.”

“In the library? But…you never showed?” James asked.

“Yes, I did - and I heard you guys talking about me, so I decided to stay out of your way thinking that maybe I’d make it easier on you all. But then you’ve spent the past week absolutely torturing me; showing up at my classes, trying to sit beside me, showing up to my dorm room like you weren’t just biding your time.”

“Y/N, what exactly did you hear us say in the library?” Remus queried.

“That you couldn’t do this anymore! That someone ‘had to tell me’ because it was ‘getting out of hand’. That you couldn’t possibly live like this anymore and hopefully I’d just understand. And I do! I do understand; but what I don’t understand is what the point of chasing me around the bloody castle is if you-”

“Whoa, whoa. Okay, alright just breathe, darling, I’m sorry.” Lily attempted to placate, holding her hands up as she approached like you were some kind of feral cat.

You sort of acted like one when you swatted her hands away from you.

“No! No, it’s not fair! I’m sorry if I’m too much, or if I’m not enough; I get it, okay? I do; sometimes it doesn’t work out and that’s fair but if that’s how you feel then just leave me alone!” You shouted back, feeling the tears trailing down your neck at this point. 

“Y/N, please, listen okay? Just relax and we can talk this out.” Lily tried again as James let out a pained breath that sounded awfully close to a sob. 

“Remus, please.” He begged, turning his pooling hazel eyes to his scarred boyfriend who was looking at you in abject horror. “Please.”

“Y/N, you’ve misunderstood, dove. I-I’m sorry, It’s my fault, but what you heard…that wasn’t us talking about breaking up with you. I… It was about me.”

You wiped angrily at your face and set your now cold plate on the ground - you weren’t hungry anymore anyways. “It’s not you, it’s me?” You sneered half-heartedly.

“No, no…Merlin, Y/N I- I’m a werewolf. Okay? I have lycanthropy, I was bitten when I was four; that’s where I go once a month and why I get…weird. We were talking about the fact that I needed to tell you because it was hurting us to keep it from you. Dovey, I’m so sorry you’ve been so upset. Please, please take a breath for me.” 

You held your hands over your eyes as you tried to control your breathing.

Sketchiness…tension…disappearances… 

“You’re going to have to say something to her, Rem; this is getting out of hand”

“Can’t we just ignore this? Just for a little longer? I mean, it can’t be that bad?”

“Y/N’s so sensitive though… How do you tell her something like that?”

“It has to come from Remus.” 

“I don’t bloody care how we tell her, but we have to say something; I cannot keep living like this, it’s exhausting.”

“I’m sorry you guys. I thought we could ignore it but…I don’t think we can anymore.”

“I think we ought to just rip the bandaid off and hope she understands.”

“I’m a werewolf. I have lycanthropy…that’s where I go once a month.” 

“Please…baby, please say something. I-I’m so sorry.” You heard Sirius plead quietly; his shaky voice in stark contrast from the way he’d been barking at you just moments before. 

You pulled your wet hands away from your eyes to see all four of them looking at you with nothing but worry and heartache on their faces; though none looked quite as vulnerable as Remus did. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He whispered.

You sucked in a shuddering breath as more tears fell. “So…you don’t hate me?”

Remus let out a disbelieving laugh when you heard what sounded suspiciously like a sob from James.

“No! No, no dove, that- I’m rather quite in love with you, you know?” He pressed, daring to step closer to you. “Do you hate me?” He asked then, tone turning vulnerable once more.

“No.” You whined emphatically. 

“Oh my poor girl.” Sirius whined sympathetically. 

“Can I hug you? Please?” James all but begged, stepping in front of you with his arms open already; poised for you to say…

“Yes.”

You’re not sure he even waited for the affirmation to leave your lips before he had you encased in his arms.

You shoved your face into his chest and fisted his shirt in your hands; pulling him as close as you possibly could to your person. 

You weren’t sure how long you’d been standing there - directly in front of the kitchens and awfully close to your own common room - sniffling into James’ shirt as he sniffled into your hair, but you heard a sniffle come from beside you.

You turned to see Sirius’ grey eyes shiny and red as he looked at you imploringly. 

“I’m so sorry I yelled at you, sweetness. I’m such an arse I just…I-”

“It’s okay.” You whispered.

“No it’s not.” Sirius argued immediately. “I…I get like that sometimes; just horribly defensive and then I go on the offensive first. I didn’t even give you a chance to talk to us before I was attacking you; I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Siri.” You offered again, holding a hand out to him which he took readily. 

“I can’t believe you’ve spent this whole week believing we wanted nothing to do with you.” Lily whined from your other side. “I’m so sorry we left you feeling like that, darling girl.”

Though you were quite content in your muscled hideaway, you pulled away from James’ chest to wipe at your face again, feeling awfully self-conscious of how blotchy your face must look from your tears.

“I shouldn’t have assumed.” You admitted shamefully; voice scratchy from both the shouting and the crying.

“The way you described it, I can understand how our conversation sounded to you, babygirl.” Sirius contended. 

“So…you’re really not leaving me?” You asked again.

“I feel like I should be asking you that, dove.” Remus replied.

“Why would I be leaving you?”

Lily shared a knowing look with Sirius and James who in turn moved their gazes to Remus with expressions reading “see?”. 

“Not everyone would be accepting of a werewolf.”

You felt your eyebrows furrow as you looked at the others as if saying “are you hearing this right now?” 

“But…I love you? I…I don’t even know what else to say…I just… love you so, that’s fine.”

“I just love you so that’s fine.” Sirius repeated as he looked at Remus arrogantly. “I knew I should have placed a bet on how she’d respond; I’d have made five galleons!”

“We were not going to bet on how our girlfriend would respond to Remus’ furry little problem, Sirius.” Lily chided as she playfully swatted at his shoulder. 

“Besides,” James added, pulling you closer into his side again. “You would have lost because I don’t think any of us would have bet that she’d misinterpret our disastrous conversation as us trying to leave her and then spend the week believing we were waiting for the perfect time to break up with her only for us all to shout and cry when we realised what happened.”

“No, that's true.” Sirius agreed readily, looking back at you with sympathy. “I really am sorry, baby.”

“Me too.” Lily continued.

“Me most of all.” Remus added.

“I knew we should have gone looking for her that night.” James mused aloud mostly to himself. “Could have saved us all a lot of heartache.” 

“Yeah, yeah Prongs. You’re right again; I’m sure we’ll never live it down.” Sirius said with a playful eye roll. 

“How can we make it up to you?” Lily asked as she placed her hand at the juncture of your neck and shoulder and traced shapes along the column of your neck with her thumb.

You shook your head shyly and looked at your feet. “It’s not necessary guys.”

“Nonsense.” Sirius scoffed.

“Let’s start with some dinner, yeah? And maybe a cwtch in the boys’ dorm upstairs?” Remus offered to the group, though he seemed to be waiting for you to answer.

You nodded at him and he opened his arms in invitation which you accepted readily.

“I’m sorry, dovey.” He whispered into your hair.

“I’m sorry too, Rem.”

“Let’s never fight again.” James decided enthusiastically as Lily and Sirius stepped through the pear portrait into the kitchens.

“Sounds good to me, bubs.” Remus agreed as he bent down to press a kiss to James’ lips whilst keeping you secured to his side.

You were sure that after this week, these four wouldn’t be letting you out of their reach.

After this week, you weren’t sure you minded that at all.

[whumptober]

Whumptober 2023

Welcome to Whumptober 2023 — the sixth year running!

COMPLETIONISTS/PARTICIPANT BADGES CAN BE FOUND HERE

To those of you who participated last year, welcome back! To everyone joining this year, welcome!

Please make sure to read the Event Info carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.

This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.

And this years playlist can be found here.

There are 139 prompt options in total this year - this is including the alternatives list! A special thanks goes out to those who took part in our trope vote back in July. From the 1526 responses to our list of 223 tropes, we looked through the popularity results, as well as your honourable mentions, and were able to produce this years prompts list. Stay tuned, as we will be posting some of the results at a later date!

We’re very excited to see the community come together once more and be a wild, chaotic bunch of creators and consumers of whump. Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators - we wish you all the fun!

Best of luck and happy whumping,

Mods Vanne, Yenn, Kitty and Surro

(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information and FAQs are posted below the cut!)

Whumptober 2023 Prompt List

No. 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.”

Safety Net | Swooning | “How many fingers am I holding up?”

No. 2: “I’ll call out your name, but you won’t call back.”

Thermometer | Delirium | “They don't care about you.”

No. 3: “Like crying out in empty rooms; with no-one there except the moon.”

Journal | Solitary Confinement | “Make it stop.”

No. 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.”

Cattle Prod | Shock | “You in there?”

No. 5: “You better pray I don't get up this time around.”

Debris | Pinned Down | “It's broken.”

No. 6: “Do or die, you’ll never make me; Because the world will never take my heart.”

Recording | Made to Watch | “It should have been me.”

No. 7: " “I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.”

Alleyway | Radio Silence | “Can you hear me?”

No. 8: “I’ve got soul, but I’m not a soldier.”

Overcrowded ER | Outnumbered | “It’s all for nothing.”

No. 9: “Learning everything ain't what it seems, that's the thing about these days.”

Polaroid | Mistaken Identity | “You're a liar.”

No. 10: “Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”

Broken Phone | Stranded | “You said you'd never leave.”

No. 11: “All the lights going dark and my hope’s destroyed.”

Animal trap | Captivity | “No one will find you.”

No. 12: “I haven't slept in days but who's counting?”

Red | Insomnia | “I’m up, I’m up.”

No. 13: “It comes and goes like the strength in your bones.”

Cold Compress | Infection | “I don’t feel so good.”

No. 14: “Feed me poison, fill me ‘till I drown.”

Flare | Water Inhalation | “Just hold on.”

No. 15: “I don't need you to help me I can handle things myself.”

Makeshift Bandages | Suppressed Suffering | “I’m fine.”

No. 16: “Would you lie with me and just forget the world?”

Gurney | Flatline | “Don’t go where I can’t follow.”

No. 17: “You’re the lump in my throat and the knot in my chest.”

Collar | Touch Aversion | “Leave me alone.”

No. 18: “I tend to deflect when I’m feeling threatened.”

Blindfold | Tortured For Information | “Hit them harder.”

No. 19: “I’ll take one final step, all you have to do is make me.”

Floral Bouquet | Psychological | “I’m not as stupid as you think I am.”

No. 20: “People don’t change people, time does.”

Blanket | Found Family | “You will regret touching them.”

No. 21: “See the chains around my feet.”

Vows | Restraints | “Don't move.”

No. 22: “They never saw us coming, ‘til they hit the floor.”

Glass Shard | Vehicular Accident | “Watch out!”

No. 23: “It’s gonna get me by the end of the night.”

Shadows | Stalking | “Who’s there?”

No. 24: “I’ve got a head full of chemicals; mouth full of ridicule.”

Goodbye Note | Neglect | “I thought they were with you.”

No. 25: “You’re not delivering a perfect body to the grave.”

Storm | Buried Alive | “They’re not breathing!”

No. 26: “Sometimes I get so tired; I don’t even know myself.”

Seeing Double | Working To Exhaustion | “You look awful.”

No. 27: “You drew stars around my scars; But now I’m bleeding.”

Matches | Scars | “Let me see”

No. 28: “We might not make it to the morning; so go on and tell me now.”

Bloody Knife | Sacrifice | “You'll have to go through me.”

No. 29: “I only sink deeper the deeper I think.”

Scented Candle | Troubled Past Resurfacing | “What happened to me?”

No. 30: “It’s okay, just to say, ‘I’m not okay’.”

Borrowed Clothing | Bridal Carry | “Not much longer...”

No. 31: “I thought that I was getting better.”

Emptiness | Setbacks | “Take it easy.”

Alternatives List:

Betrayal

Aftermath of Failure

Brass Knuckles

Decoy

Body Modification

Playing Cards

Examination

Hunting

Drugging

Shaking

Panic

Broken

Miscommunication

Lab Rat

Reluctant Whumper

Event Info & Rules

~ Please read our extensive event info posts before sending us an ask ~

WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. The 'theme' of each day is the line of lyrics.

The prompts are merely to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don’t have to include the exact wording of prompts into your work). Feel free to run rampant on interpretation. For example, if the prompt is "flame", you could create something with reference to a candle/campfire, your character could have suffered a burn, or the flame could be related to the 'spark' of a relationship. It's truly up to you!

In total, there are 4 prompts for each day: there's lyrics, an object, a trope and a line of dialogue to choose from.  We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks.

Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, photo/video/audio edits, paper crafts and elaborate recommendation lists (not just a list of links). Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.

When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag the with:

#whumptober2023 …..(the event tag)

#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(day number)

#lyric, #bruises, #stabbing,  …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)

#fandom or #OC, … (ironman, originalcontent, oc …)

#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)

#teeth, #gore tw, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Add "tw" AFTER the trigger/content warning. )

#nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)

#your own tags go here

PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober-archive blog. They must be tagged in the order above. An elaborate post about our tagging system can be found [here]

Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.

Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month. A form will be published at the beginning of November asking you to tell us if you completed the event. You do not need to post anything you have created, we rely on trust and we will not check this.

Questions not addressed in one of our many event info posts can be directed to this blog. We will not answer any questions that have been answered in the FAQs or rules already.

Frequently Asked Questions

Q. How does this year’s prompt list work? What do I have to choose?

You can create something based on:

The overall theme/lyric of the day

Prompt 1, 2 or 3

One or several of the alternative prompts

A combination of the above

Q. Is [specific anything] allowed?

When in doubt: JUST DO IT!

Q. Do I have to do all 31 days?

Participate as much or little as you like! Just be sure to tag your posts properly (ex. #no.7, #radio silence). If you create works for 31 total theme days you will become a completionist. But apart from that, there are no repercussions if you don’t fill prompts for each day.

Q. Can I post early/late?

Yes, you can post whenever you want. We will only reblog posts during October, but you can use our prompts all year round. The day you post will only affect your probability of being reblogged.

Q. Will you reblog my post?

Due to the sheer number of content posted during Whumptober we can’t promise to reblog every single post. We will make a random selection trying to capture a wide variety of content. The following will increase your chances at being reblogged:

tag your post properly

post within 2-3 days of the theme you want to fill: if you fill the prompt for Day 1 your chances of being reblogged during October 1st to 3rd are highest and will go towards zero afterwards.

Q. What if I don’t understand a prompt/theme?

Send us an ask! We’re happy to help with wild, unhelpful clarifications or brainstorming. That being said, the themes are entirely up for interpretation. Don’t take them too literally. For example: You can be choking on a cherry, someone else can choke you or you could be choked up on emotions, etc.

Q. What kind of content can I make? Can it be NSFW?

This is a MIXED MEDIA event! You can write fic, post meta, doodle or paint, create a gifset or photo edit, link a song, or get crafty with video - anything goes. As for NSFW, make what you like, we just hope that you’ll tag your work accordingly so that others participating in the event can stay safe.

Q. Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges?

Absolutely, as long as the other challenges allow it too.

Q. Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms?

Of course! You can post your own content wherever you like (or you can opt to not publish it at all). Additionally we’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there. It can be accessed here. The tumblr blog @whumptober-archive is the official archive, so please respect the boundaries of any closeted whumpers in your social circle.

Q. Can I use prompts to write a new chapter for an existing fic?

Yes.

Q. An existing fic I am currently writing contains many of the Whumptober prompts, can I use it?

If you are actively writing this fic at the moment with the Whumptober prompts in mind, yes. If you’ve previously posted something that checks the boxes, we ask that you not include it retroactively for this current year. You can, however, add new chapters relating to one or more of the prompts.

Q. What kind of characters can I write for?

Fandom characters, OC characters, human, furry, alien, cyborg, RPF, whoever you like. You can use the generic “whumpee” character or have specific ones.

Q. Does it have to take place in a specific fandom?

No, you can create works for your own worlds or for fandoms or for both. You can also create more generic or pan-fandom works. You can do cross-overs or use OCs, whatever you want.

Q. Can I use a prompt multiple times?

Yes, but it only counts once towards being a completionist.

Q. If I’m not comfortable with one day’s prompts can I use a prompt of a different day as a substitute and still be a completionist?

No, you can’t exchange prompts for different days. However, if all four prompts of a specific day make you uncomfortable, we have created an alternate prompts list that you can draw from. You can exchange any prompt with these, but please make sure not to use them twice.

Q. Where can I post my work?

Post where and how you want. You don’t have to (cross)post it to Tumblr or at all. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive.

Q. Can I start posting early?

You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? That being said, you can post early, but we won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st.

Q. Do I have to finish a fic I started/can I post WIP’s?

Yes you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish it in October for it to count towards being a completionist.  

Q. Is co-writing allowed?

Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you.

Q. Do I have to create 31 standalone pieces to be considered a completionist or can I write one continuous story?

One continuous story is fine.  The challenge is to write something for 31 prompts. If that’s spread over 31 fics or just one, you are still considered a completionist. (The same goes for every other media you choose.)

Q. Is there a min/max limit on word count?

There is no limit.

Q. Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many?

No limit and combine as many as you’d like.

Q. Is a hc/angst/emotional whump focus ok?

Of course! We are not going to establish a threshold for whumpiness. If you think it’s whumpy enough, then it’s whumpy enough. It can be physical, psychological, emotional, or any combination of the three.

Q. What’s considered nsfw?

See this post

Q. What is whump?

Typically the genre includes situations where a fictional character is hurt, be it emotionally, psychologically, or physically. Fanlore provides information here.

Q. My interpretation of the prompt isn’t whumpy at all, does that count?

If you don’t think your interpretation is whumpy, then it doesn’t count for Whumptober. Remember that whump comes in many forms, though, and that we don’t have a whump-checker or a threshold for how much whump needs to be included. If you think your interpretation contains enough whump to count, then it does.

Q. Can I start working on the prompts before October?

Absolutely! That’s why we post the prompts a month in advance. We recognise how difficult it can be creating for 31 days in “real time” so feel free to start creating early!

Q. How do I tag triggers?

tw at the end of the word, ex. #gore tw

Q. Do I have to use your tags?

Yes, if you want your work archived on the blog. If not, feel free to use whatever tags you want. 

Q. Does combining prompts count towards completion?

Yes

Q. Can we @ you?

Yes but we mostly rely on the #whumptober2023 tag.

Q. Is there anything we are absolutely not allowed to write?

There are no rules, but please make sure to properly tag your trigger warnings. And keep in mind Tumblr’s policies if you are posting it here (or the policies for whatever site you use).

Q. Where can I go for brainstorming help?

Here on Discord or come into our ask box.

Q. My characters are minors, is that ok?

Yes, but as with everything else, use clear and descriptive tags.

Q. Can I cross post on other blogs?

Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable. You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once.

Note: This is a creation challenge, please don’t repost your old work under our tags (unless it’s been changed or edited for the event).

Thanks for reading, and happy whumping!

[fingertipsmp3]

Job interview today 😵‍💫