#i’ve been giddy about them all day

[biting-miguel-ohara]

hiiii can i request a fic thats like the domestic aftermath of your alpha fic. doesnt have to be directly after or closely related i just like the idea of logan realizing how puppy like your wolf mutation actually makes you now that you’re not ignoring him.

also i love your account and you’re writing im so glad i stumbled across it ! :)

Thank you for the request! I’m just finishing it up and it will be posted in a couple of days!

Also, I can’t tell you how happy it made me to know there are people who love my works 😁 Thank you for this!

[jarofstyles]

Pressing Questions

We love new husbandrrry >:)

I hope you enjoy them and let me know your thoughts!

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WC- 4.4k

Warnings- exhibitionism, slight breeding kink, completely cute n flirty babies, husband x wife kink???

---

“Hey, husband?” 

“Yes, Wife?” It sounded so good coming from their lips. It made her borderline giddy as she looked over at him to find him already looking over at her. The flush she felt in her cheeks bled down to her chest. They were finally fucking married. 

“What made you decide you were marrying me?” Y/N asked as she lounged next to him. Their honeymoon in full swing, Harry had rented out a cabana with a daybed so he could cuddle up to her on the beach and Y/N was positive now that it was definitely one of many things he had up his sleeve. The aesthetic had been perfect to her Pinterest board, but she had a feeling Harry knew that.

Roses in the room, champagne upon arrival, brand new swimwear just for her… she had been absolutely spoiled since they landed. Just like he promised. 

The warm air flowed over their forms, her head resting on her bent arm as the other held the fruity cocktail she had drunk an embarrassing amount of in the last three days. Some kind of coconut and lime thing that had her feeling more giggly than she could remember being in most of her adult life, but she was safe here. Safe with Harry, just like she had been dreaming of. 

 Harry chuckled and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to his chest. He traced a lazy circular pattern on her bare hip with his fingertips as he spoke, his voice low and deep. Slightly hushed, keeping it intimate. Just the way she liked it. It was like he was fine tuned to appear to each and every thing she found attractive- or somehow managed to make everything he did appeal to her. Either way, she felt her tummy flutter. 

"Darling, is this a trick question? Do you really think I only have one reason to marry you?”  Her husband acted like it was a ridiculous question but pressed a kiss to her forehead, giving her an answer regardless.  "You’re beyond beautiful, the funniest person I’ve ever met, smart as a tack... and you put up with all my ridiculous bullshit. All of those cliche reasons and more. Not t’mention you dealing with my insane schedule and giving me your honest opinions whenever I ask, even if they’re a little sassy.” Giving her a look, he got the laugh he wanted out of her before tilting his head in question. “Why wouldn’t I marry you?”

“I dunno, I just feel like…. I mean, I know I’m a catch.” She smirked, giving him a wink that she immediately regretted. At least she could be cringey with him and he would find it endearing. Her winks were not nearly as cute as his were.  “But was there a singular moment that you knew you were going to keep me?” His touch always did make her melt. 

Harry, ever the touchy and slightly clingy boyfriend- nay, husband-, couldn’t keep his hands off of her before they got married but… compared to this trip? Y/N was genuinely unsure there was a single moment without him with his touch somewhere on her body. It had been a little shocking at first but every single moment made her feel more addicted to the fingertips pressing into her, arms pulling her into his body or the lips ghosting her skin. The real problem would be when they got home and she couldn’t just have this on tap. 

Harry let out a deep breath, shifting to roll onto his side and propping his head up with his hand as he took in her beauty. The sun was giving her skin a warm, golden glimmer, and it took all his willpower not to pounce on her at that very moment and take her right there in the cabana.

"You want one singular moment, huh?" He hummed, pretending to think about it as his fingertips continued their slow path tracing her body. "There was this one time..."

Her breathing caught in her throat as his fingers took a lazy trail over her body. Harry had this way about him that had made her a little nervous with how attentive his gaze was, but even so… she loved that feeling. Like he was always clinging onto her last word. Even as her husband, he seemed to use this power to his advantage. 

“Mmm?” She asked, tossing back the final bit of her drink before fiddling with the cute little paper umbrella. “What time?”

His lips curled up into a small, smug smirk as he watched her react to his touch. He loved the power he had over her, the way his fingers seemed to make her breathless and her eyes got a little hazy. The way her body subconsciously arched into his touch.

Harry moved his hand from her hip, slowly tracing it up her side and over her ribcage, his touch so light that it almost tickled.  "It was very early on," he said, his voice low and husky. "We were at my place, just hanging out. You were wearing this… little fucking tank top." The way he said it made her know that he was thinking about that tank top to this day. Flattering, even if she couldn’t place the moment he was talking about.

She had to wrack her brain for a moment, trying to remember which day it was that he was referring to. The beginning days had been slightly hazy considering their romance had gone from tentative flirtation to a whirlwind as soon as the sexual dam had broken. 

“Which tank top?” 

Harry's smile grew wider as he saw her trying to remember. It was something he could never forget. "It was that little pink one, with the sexy little bit of lace at the neckline. Lacy straps, too," he said, his voice taking on a slightly dreamy tone as the memory played in his head. "It was so teeny tiny that I could see your bra through it..." Moving closer to her, his hand moved lower on her body, tracing over the soft, sensitive skin of her stomach. He knew exactly how he was affecting her. It was considered a bit of payback for said tank top.

"And those shorts you had on... so short that I could see your hips and legs… and the bottom of your bum when you moved the right way? Mm, I think you’ve always been so cruel with teasing me, baby.” The man obviously loved it though. There was no hiding that from her. 

Despite it being a private beach, Y/N felt the flutter of both fear and anticipation as he flirted with her so blatantly. Recalling a time she could definitely remember now, a movie night at his place where she had worn a matching pajama set that wasn’t outright sexy but… definitely was known to show off her body.

“Ohhhh. That one.” She grinned. “Seeing me in that made you know you were gonna marry me? Perv.”

“Hey now, I just appreciate beauty when I see it.” Harry countered with a laugh, acting slightly affronted as if his hand wasn’t now resting just over the waistband of her bikini. “So sue me for thinking y’looked incredible.”

 Moving even closer to her, his body pressed against hers as his lips brushed against her ear. His voice was sultry as he spoke, a little kiss pressed right underneath it.  “And I distinctly remember you wearing that little outfit just to drive me absolutely wild, you little minx. You can’t even deny it now. I know how that pretty head of yours works.”

Y/N snickered at the call out, knowing he was very much correct. She had done it to test him, to see how much he was willing to put up with back in the day, what would make him tick. He may call it teasing, but she called it an experiment for scientific research. 

“You are such a flirt today.” She took a moment to put the glass down before facing him again, carding her fingers through his wavy hair. The sea air did something to it that made her even more attracted to him, something she hadn’t realized possible until she had seen it herself. “But keep the memories coming.” Aka the compliments. She felt loved up and was very much in the mood to hear more. “What else did you think?”

Harry's eyes darkened slightly as her fingers ran through his hair. He loved it when she touched him like that, it sent shivers down his spine, making him want to lean into her like an eager pup awaiting pets. 

"Other things that cemented it?" He murmured, his hand on her hip giving her a gentle squeeze.  “There’s loads. Mm… I’d have t’say, the way you'd get all flustered when I teased you. The way you'd get all sarcastic and bratty when I annoyed you. How you were so confident and fiery, but at the same time so shy and sweet..." he trailed off, knowing he could go on for hours and hours when it came to what he loved about her. It was hard to get him to shut up about it, actually. 

“So you like when I’m bratty. That’s what I’m hearing.” She giggled, teasing him slightly despite him scolding her for it prior. “I think my moment was when you set up that whole thing on Valentine’s Day. Cause god knows you’ve got all the money in the world but you knew I hate fancy restaurants so you did like… the whole blanket fort thing. With the charcuterie board and champagne.” The dreamy sigh left her lips. It had stuck with her every day since. He may not even realize how important it had been for her, but Harry was the first person she’d dated who had ever made her feel that special. 

“You listened to me when I said what I liked. You got my favorite movie lined up and made me sweet and salty popcorn like I like. You even remembered you popped the wrong one and told me to wait and… I dunno.” She shrugged with her shy smile lighting up her face. “I knew I’d never find anyone else like you.”

Harry's gaze softened as she spoke, warmth spreading through his chest as she described his absolute favorite Valentine's Day. He hadn't known at the time it had been such a pivotal moment for her, but now it made perfect sense. His wife was sentimental that way. Something personal meant way more than the clothes he had bought her, or the house he’d got for them. His thoughts were everything to her.

He gave her a tender look, shaking his head, fingers tracing a gentle path along her arm. It was impossible to keep his touch from her, and he didn’t feel like trying. "You mean when I accidentally burned the salted popcorn?" He winced at the memory. It was a weird thing he always thought about, but in his defense the smell had been pretty bad. Thankfully he had air freshener on hand, though apple cinnamon didn’t exactly mask burnt popcorn. 

"Yeah, sorry about that. I was so focused on making sure everything was just right for you that I didn't pay enough attention to the microwave. Plus, your pretty face was distracting enough. Could barely form a proper sentence.”

The warmth flooded her tummy at the compliment, making her want to kiss him even more. It was held off considering she knew it would most definitely be something that got carried away, but that didn’t stop the urges. “I’ll be honest, I probably would have eaten the burnt popcorn. The fact that you’d even managed to remember those little facts about me had me like… giddy. I hadn’t felt that way about a crush since I was a teenager.” The admission came easily.  There was no shame in how much she loved Harry, even if she did tease him to say he was the clingy one. 

 Another question popped into her head, and considering he seemed happy to talk now that he’d had his beachside nap, she took advantage of it. “Were you nervous to propose?”

Harry's hand moved back and rested on her hip, his fingers rubbing over the soft skin as he answered immediately. 

"Nervous? Oh, absolutely. Fucking terrified, my love. Even though I knew you'd say yes, I was still nervous as hell." He let out a sweet hum,  softly, leaning in closer to her, his lips almost touching her ear as he spoke.  "The most nerve-wracking part was the time between when I proposed and when you actually said yes. It felt like the longest minute of my life..."

“You knew I’d say yes. C’mon, H.” Y/N’s giddy grin made it past her lips. It was weirdly satisfying to know he had been nervous because it meant he had been worried about the prospect of not being with her forever. It had always been her plan to say yes, but still. 

Harry chuckled again, his chest rumbling beneath her head "Yes, darling, I did know that." His hand slid under her chin, gently lifting her head to meet his gaze. How much he loved her was visible in his eyes. She’d never experienced visibly seeing love before him. 

"But that didn't stop me from being nervous. I was just so… desperate for you to say yes, to be mine forever. The thought of even a moment of hesitation..."

He shuddered slightly and his grip on her tightened ever so slightly "It would've killed me."

“Oh, baby.” She cooed, deciding to baby him a little bit. Hearing that vulnerability really did something to her, tangling her fingers into the hair at his nape. “I’ve been yours since you first kissed me. Y’know that?” Y/N had been completely smitten. It was borderline concerning until she had realized he felt the same. “I had the biggest crush on you when we first met. You only continue to get better and better every day.” 

Tossing her leg over her hip, she relaxed into his hold as she gazed over his pretty face. He’d let his stubble grow out a bit, albeit a bit patchy- the look suited him. “You’ve been my husband in my head for a long time. I don’t think I could have ever said no.”

Harry's heart skipped a beat as she spoke. He had always loved it when she got like this, all soft and gentle and sweet on him. It was hard not to be greedy for this sort of affection. The feeling of her tangling her fingers in his hair combined with the press of her body against his had a shiver running down his spine.

"S’That so?" He purred, his voice making her squirm. "Because you’ve been mine since the moment I saw you, darling. You were the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen in my life, and I knew I had to have you. You belong with me, you always have."

The slight possessive speak made her throat thicken, tummy warm, between her thighs throb a little bit. The tenderness in which he spoke had her melting and it had nothing to do with the beachy heat. This was exactly why she knew she had made the perfect choice with him.  Her body knew it was him before her head even did. Her heart? Even before that. “Yeah? I’m yours?” She cooed, brushing her nose against his.

Harry groaned softly as she brushed her nose against his, his eyes falling half-lidded. "Mmm, yeah. You are. You're mine. All mine."

His voice was a low rumble, his grip on her tightening as he spoke. "No one else will ever touch you, darling. You belong to me. I won't ever share you, no part of you is for anyone else but me."

Y/N let out a breathy gasp as his hand skipped over her ass, under the bikini bottom’s to hold bare skin. The flesh was squeezed, heat spreading between her legs as the little grab only managed to make it worse. She couldn’t control it even if she tried. 

“H! There are people around.” She squealed nervously, but didn’t move his hand. The people were far away, the beach not too crowded, but she had to say it. It wasn’t unlike him to grab a feel, but he had no intentions of moving his hand. The man had been insatiable since their wedding night with no sign of stopping. 

Harry gave her a sly simper as his hand squeezed her ass again, kneading lightly. He knew they were technically in public, and he didn't care in the slightest. It was more exciting this way, he loved the danger of being caught, the thrill of almost being seen… he was on his honeymoon with his wife. Nothing else mattered.

"I don't care, darling. They can't see us over here... Besides, we're on our honeymoon. We can do whatever we want." Licking his lower lip as he pulled her closer to him, his voice dropping to a low murmur.

"And right now, I want you."

“Baby…” Y/N’s voice went all syrupy and whimpery as his tongue ran over her jaw, teeth stopping to nibble at her skin. “You’re gonna get me wet. And I’m still a little sore from last night…” 

Her face flushed at the memory of him pounding into her, desperate proclamations of love being panted into the air as he fucked her over and over. That had been intense and her poor body hadn’t fully recovered, but it couldn’t help but react to him. She wasn’t saying no though because… she didn’t want to. A glutton for punishment, maybe, but she craved him. Body, mind and soul. 

Harry's breath hitched as she whimpered, the sound going straight to his already thickening cock. The thought of getting her all riled up here, of making her feel good while hidden away did little but work him up further. Y/N had a master key to his body and just the tiniest noise, movement of word could have him undone at any moment. 

“H…” she whined, feeling his hand slip between them. Finding her already wet, she could feel him groan into her neck as he pressed kisses over her throat. “H- fuck.” 

Her pants did nothing to deter him. The slick sound of his fingers rubbing through her slit before finding her swollen clit was the loudest thing she could hear, over the music in the distance and the crashing waves. “God.. you’re so bad.” And it felt so good.

Her husband’s lips curled up in a lazy grin as his fingers slid effortlessly through the wetness of her cunt. He could hear her gasping quietly with every touch, and he knew she was desperately trying to keep it together. It was his job to undo her. "You love it when I'm bad, darling." He taunted, nipping at her neck. With a voice low and needy he continued whispering in her ear.  "See.. I think you love it when I'm naughty. Think that you want me to touch you, to slip my fingers over your needy cunt and make you feel good. Y’want that, don’t you baby?” 

Her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned her head back, letting his mouth mark up her throat. It felt too good to stop him, and her body was aching for it. This was what a honeymoon was for. Wasn’t it?  

“Uh-huh.” She nodded. There was no use protesting when this was what she wanted anyway. “Just be gentle, please.” 

Harry hummed in agreement, his fingers still gently teasing her as he continued to mark up her throat. 

"Don't worry, baby, I'll be gentle. I'll take care of you, just like I always do." His free hand came up to cup her cheek, guiding her face up to look him in the eyes. 

"Just relax, my sweet girl, and let me make you feel good."

Her shaky breathing was only made worse as he made her look him in the eye as he pleasured her. The slick movement of his fingertips where she was swollen from his constant licking and rubbing and sucking had her head swimming, sensitive from the use she had been experiencing- but god, did she love it. 

She knew he was feeling even more worked up now that she was his wife officially, and he was letting her feel that. “You always make me feel s-so good.”

Harry's groan caught in his throat as he watched her, her eyes half-lidded and hazy with pleasure. He fucking loved seeing her like this, all flushed and breathless because of him. His fingers toyed with her still, slow and gentle as he tried to make himself wait. "Good, because I love making you feel good… S’my favorite thing."

He pressed a few kisses to her cheek, his nose skimming over her skin as he moved to whisper into her ear. It sent shivers over her body, hard to keep herself from losing it as he touched her, practiced and knowing exactly where to taunt.

"You're so damn perfect, darling. My perfect, pretty little wife, letting me do filthy things to you. Love you so much."

Her hips rocked in time with his fingers, eyes closing for a moment as he kissed her neck again before whispering in her ear. When he gripped her chin again, he made her watch his face as he slowly sunk a finger into her. It wasn’t difficult given how soaking wet her poor pussy was, but she still felt the stretch. It was hard not to when they were that thick. 

A high pitched whine was cut off as she bit her lip, face contorting slightly as she felt him begin to move it. “It’s not f-fair, how easily you can… you can make me feel crazy.”

Harry hummed as he watched her face twist with pleasure, his finger still lazily pumping in and out of her. Feeling the walls clench around him and slick up his finger, he couldn’t get enough of her.  "Mmm, I know, darling. I know everything that drives you insane. I know all your sensitive spots, where you like to be touched, how you like it when I talk dirty to you..."

 Leaning in and biting down gently on her earlobe, his voice a deep murmur in her ear. "And I love that I'm the only one who knows those things."

“Mhm, the only one. You’re the only one.” She agreed vehemently. The pleasure was smooth and slow, building up as the slick sound of his finger being inside of her made it even more hot. “And you’re the only one who’s gonna put a baby in me too.” 

Y/N knew just how crazy that sort of talk made him, discovered it not too long ago, and she was aware she was playing with fire. She knew that, and yet she continued. 

Harry let out a deep, loud groan at her words, the sound almost feral. If anyone was nearby it would give them away, but he frankly didn’t give a fuck. He loved it when she talked like that, so shameless and filthy. Meeting him where he was at. It was no secret that he had been on a mission this trip, but Y/N knew what she did to him when she brought it up. His free hand dug into her cheek, gripping her tightly as his finger curved inside her, pressing into the slick, spongy walls. 

"Yeah? You want me t’get you pregnant, little darling?" His breath came out in huffed pants as his control started to slip a little. A button being pushed, almost all the way down. “Want me t’knock you up? Think we should try again… If you want that.” The memory of him pulling his cock out to watch the creamy mix slip out of her cunt before pushing back in to keep some plugged up into her the night prior came rushing back. 

That was exactly what he was craving. 

“Yeah, I want to… I want you to do it on this trip. Please? Wanna make you a daddy.” She keened, knowing they had little time at the beach left. He was going to lose control soon, and that had been her quickly executed plan.

Harry's control completely snapped at her words. He let out a low, guttural moan, his grip on her cheek firm as he laid a deep kiss on her mouth, licking into it and feeling her desperate kiss returned before he pulled back with a grunt and wet lips. She was ethereal, even in filthy situations like this. With beachy hair and bleary eyes, swollen mouth and the golden glow of the setting sun on her skin. Every day, every moment served as a reminder as to why he was so lucky to have her.

“God, you drive me fucking insane, darling. Y’know exactly what to say to get me all worked up, huh?" It was clear he couldn’t take it anymore. Y/N had hit her intended target, and he couldn’t be out here any longer because he would definitely get caught with a public indecency charge. Fingering was one thing, but the things he wanted to do to her? They needed privacy. 

He withdrew his finger, his voice a gruff whisper as he spoke into her ear. "Get up. Now.” 

A cry of loss left her swollen lips as he stood up, not caring at all about the bulge in his pants. He grabbed the beach bag, tossing it over his arm and surprised her as he tossed her over his shoulder too. 

“Harry!” She squealed. “H- oh my god. You caveman!” He walked towards the villa with her tossed over his shoulder, like she weighed nothing. Like the blatant show of strength wouldn’t make her even more aroused. 

Her husband chuckled at her protest, his hand coming down across her ass to give her a sharp smack. "Hush, wife. I said I'd take care of you, and that's exactly what I'm doing."

[moonstruckme]

poly!marauders x reader helping her move into their shared flat! maybe a little angst cuz she doesn’t wanna impose but also fluffy

Thanks for requesting!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

“Angel, we’ve got it,” James says again, warding you off with a playfully stern look when you get too close to your own dresser. Sirius, clutching the other end for dear life, looks less confident. “Go start putting things the way you like them, we’ll handle the rest of the big stuff.” 

You give Sirius a guilty look as you do what you’re told, going into the kitchen where Remus is opening your taped-up boxes with a butter knife. 

“Best to stay out of their way,” he advises you. “Jamie will fully let go of that dresser before he lets you near it, and we’ve got a busy enough day ahead of us without taking Sirius to A&E.” 

You grin. “Too true.”

Remus makes a funny cooing sound as he pulls your heart-shaped measuring cups out of a box. “Oh, these are precious.” His bottom lip curls softly. “Is it odd that this feels sort of like opening gifts? Do you have a zester? I’ve been pining after a zester for months.” 

“I do,” you say, somewhat giddy at the prospect of having your things amongst theirs. “It’s in the other box, though.” 

“Fuck, it’s like Christmas.” Remus tears into that box, leaving you to the first. 

It helps that you already have a sense of where things go in the boys’ flat, having stayed here many nights over several months before they’d asked you to move in. You grab the next thing out of your box and reach for the cabinet behind Remus, minding his head as you open it, and look for an empty space on the top shelf. 

“Oh.” The word drops limply from your lips.

“Hm?” 

“You already have a blender.” 

“Yeah, Jamie’d never get by without one,” says Remus with a fond eye roll. “He all but lives on those protein smoothies.” 

“Right. Yeah, I forgot.” 

“You can put yours in there next to it, love.” He looks at you over his shoulder, a slight bemusement in his expression at your dispirited tone. “He leaves that thing dirty in the sink all the time, it’ll be nice to have a backup.” 

“Okay.” You slot yours in beside it, but your eyes fall to the neat stacks of plates and bowls on the shelf below them. Somewhere in the bottom of one of these boxes, you have your own plates and bowls, mismatched and collected from different stores over time. These ones are uniform, a matched set. “Do you think my dishes will go okay in here?” 

“What do you mean?” Remus turns around, following your gaze to the cabinet. “We’ve got plenty of room.” 

“I know, but…” But with your dishes added onto theirs, they’ll be stacked nearly to the top of the shelf. More than anyone needs. “You all picked yours out together, and mine don’t match. I don’t want to add things you don’t like.” 

“You won’t be.” Seeming to sense you need it, he wraps his arms around your shoulders, standing with your back to his front. “Darling, we picked out these dishes because when we moved in here, all three of us had only been using paper plates. It wasn’t a big decision, we just needed to feel like adults.” You can hear his smile close to your ear. “Don’t worry about matching, alright?” 

“Alright,” you say, sinking into his hold, but your mind is already cataloging every way you could be intruding. 

Your glasses won’t go with theirs either, and neither will your pots and pans. The cabinets will be full to bursting. By the window, their little kitchen table has three chairs. The couch in the living room is only big enough to fit three, the armchair they’d bought to accommodate you when you started coming over regularly sitting off to the side. Separate. 

“Hey,” says James, popping into the kitchen. You’re partway through unloading your kitchen things, your guilt mounting with every overstocked shelf. “Do you want to come tell us where you’d like your dresser? We’re having some trouble, it’s a bit of a tight fit.” 

“Yeah,” you say weakly, following him down the hall. Remus, the unofficial master of logistics, comes behind you. 

In the bedroom, Sirius is trying to jam your dresser in between a nightstand and the wall, shoving it with his shoulder and threatening to take off the paint in the process. 

“Stop!” you and Remus say in unison, him rushing forward to grab Sirius while you hang back, open-mouthed. 

“You’re scuffing the wall,” Remus tells Sirius, not unkindly. “Don’t try to make it fit if it doesn’t, love.” 

The words ring around in your head, an omen. 

“I don’t need it,” you say. All three boys turn to look at you, various degrees of befuddled. “It doesn’t fit, it’s fine. I can get rid of it.” 

“It’ll fit,” says Sirius. “We’ve hardly tried yet.” 

“Angel, you love that dresser.” James looks like a confused puppy, clearly having caught onto the fact that something’s wrong but unsure what it is.

You shrug, trying to look nonchalant. You do love it, truthfully. It’s been with you since you moved into your first place, collecting tiny scratches and absorbing the coalescent scent of the candles you keep in the top drawer. It’s been the hallmark of every home that’s ever been your own, but this place isn’t just yours. Your boyfriends are already doing a lot by sharing their space with you, and you don’t want to be more trouble than you’re worth. 

“It doesn’t fit,” you say simply. “It’s okay.” 

“We can put it right there,” Remus says. The three of you turn, and there is a wall by the door, entirely blank. You’d completely forgotten about it. 

“Perfect. Genius, Rem.” James beams at Remus, his expression gentling when he looks back at you. “Okay, lovely?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” You smile weakly. Sirius makes a tsking sound, regarding you through narrowed eyes. 

“You’re being weird. Spill.” 

You shrug again, arms wrapping around your middle of their own volition. “I just didn’t think about how much stuff I have until now,” you admit. “You guys already have everything perfect in here, I don’t just want to…cram my stuff in when it’s already the way you like it. I don’t know, it…” You study the floorboards, unable to look at any of them. “It feels like I’m butting in a bit.” 

For a thick, dreadful moment, the boys are silent. 

“We want you to have your things here,” Remus says softly,  “because we want you here, dove.” 

“Alright, let’s not act as though that was ever in question.” Sirius shoots you a smile, dimming a bit when you look at him sheepishly. “Sweetheart, obviously we want you here. Why would we have asked you to move in if we didn’t?”

You nibble the inside of your cheek. “It’s okay if you’ve changed your minds. You guys work together so well already.” 

“We work together with you even better.” James comes up behind you, wrapping you up in a hug like he’s unable to help himself. He sets his lips on your shoulder, words buzzing against your skin. “It wouldn’t feel right if you were here and none of your stuff was. There’s plenty of room, but if in some places there’s not then we’ll make room. We want you here, okay?” 

You nod, trying to make yourself believe it. 

“Let’s have a break,” Remus suggests. “There’s lemonade in the fridge.” 

“Yes please.” Sirius is quickly onboard. “I can feel the soreness coming on already; my muscles have never been so terribly abused. I’m going to need a massage tonight, definitely.” 

“I’ll do it,” you offer. James keeps you tucked under his arm as you all start back down the hall. “Seems like the least I can do.” 

“In that case, I think my thighs are taking the brunt of it. Better pay the most attention to those, sweetness.” 

“These are privileges which you shall have from this night onward,” says James, mashing a kiss into your hair. “Welcome home, angel.” 

[iluvzaddies]

meine liebe, mein leben

pairing: könig x wife!reader

warnings: pregnancy

summary: after spending months on the battlefield, könig comes home to find you with a swollen tummy.

könig couldn’t wait to get home to you, his beloved wife. his love, his life. he had been dying to see you, hold you, kiss you and make love to you again throughout the entirety of his mission.

he kept a polaroid of you in his pocket, in case he felt down or if he missed you. seeing your face always made his day better. and whilst he kept a polaroid of you, a heart-shaped locket with a tiny photo of him inside adorned your neck. it was old school and cute.

he was glad you were willing to stay by his side, despite knowing he was in the military and that he would always get deployed. he hated leaving you, but you reassured him about it, saying it was his job.

after what felt like a decade; staying in a town turned into a war zone, keeping civilians safe and protecting them from terrorists, he could finally go home.

on his way home, he felt giddy.

he didn’t notify you of the news because he wanted to surprise you. were you cooking or cleaning right now? should he surprise you by wrapping his arms around your waist? he could imagine your reaction. you would scream at first, thinking it was an intruder, but when you realized it was just your dear husband, you would hug him so tight he could barely breathe.

he opened his and your house with a spare key. unlocking the door, he stepped in and was greeted with a great silence. you weren’t vacuuming the living room, you weren’t cooking in the kitchen, you weren’t eating something in the dining room. he felt slightly disappointed the surprise didn’t turn out like what he imagined in his head, but oh well, you were probably sleeping in the bedroom.

so he headed towards the bedroom and there you were, sleeping soundly on the king-sized bed.

he dropped his gear onto the ground, including his helmet and mask, slowly getting on the bed.

“i’m home.” he whispered into your ear, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck.

you only hummed in response.

he chuckled.

“(y/n)… meine liebe… i’ve returned.”

you scrunched your face, eyes opening. you were met with the sight of your husband’s handsome face – which you had the privilege of seeing all the time – hovering above your own.

“könig?”

“ja, i’m here. i’m home.”

your eyes widened and you abruptly sat up.

“könig.” you repeated as if you couldn’t believe your eyes. you reached out to touch his cheek, moving your thumb up and down in a slow motion.

you missed him so much. so very much. every single day, you thought about him, if he was doing alright, when he would return, etcetera.

as tears began to well up in your eyes, könig, the ever so loving husband, began to worry and asked, “what’s the matter, meine liebe?”

“i’m just glad you’re home and safe.” you sniffled. “we wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

könig was confused.

“we?” he pointed out.

you nodded. you took his hand, guiding it to your belly, where your child resided.

“y–you’re pregnant?” his eyes looked like they were about to pop out and his jaw about to hit the floor.

“yes.”

“how…” he trailed off, staring at your evident baby bump.

“how far along am i? four months. that’s how long you’ve been gone.” you caressed your belly.

you were worried for a second, thinking he didn’t want a child, but your worries washed away when he pulled you in for a hug and a kiss.

“my baby is having a baby!” he exclaimed excitedly. “i’m gonna be a father!” he was overjoyed with happiness. never did he ever see himself marrying someone and having a baby with them, but look at him now. he was a husband and a father.

you sighed in relief. “i thought you were upset. i was worried for a sec.”

“worried? why?” he was taken aback by your words. he grabbed both of your hands, pulling them towards his face and placing a gentle peck on them. “this is the best moment of my life. i would never be upset about this. you’re my love, my life. meine liebe, mein leben.”

“you’re my love and life too.”

after saying that, you shared one last kiss before dozing off in each other’s arms.

[judebellswife]

Full Name Frenzy

— pairing • dad!jude bellingham x mom!reader

— summary • You, Jude Bellingham’s fun-loving girlfriend, team up with his entire family to pull off a hilarious TikTok prank where you call him by his full name in front of everyone. The plan is perfect: everyone’s in on the joke, except Jude. His adorable daughter, Rosie, steals the show with her hilarious reaction, turning the prank into a memorable family moment filled with love and laughter.

— warnings • Fluff overload, light teasing, adorable family dynamics, and lots of banter.

— wanna talk or send request • to charlotte

It was a calm, sunny Sunday afternoon at the Bellingham family house—one of those rare lazy days when everyone could simply relax and enjoy each other's company. The smell of a home-cooked lunch lingered in the air as the house buzzed with light conversation and the occasional burst of laughter. It was a perfect family day, but for you, it was the perfect setup for a prank you had been planning for days.

As you sat on the living room couch with your boyfriend, Jude Bellingham, and your three-year-old daughter Rosie, you were practically giddy with excitement. The idea had started as a harmless joke when you stumbled upon a viral TikTok trend. It was simple: call your partner by their full name and capture their reaction. But knowing Jude’s playful personality and the fact that he was surrounded by his family—his parents Denise and Mark, and his younger brother Jobe—you couldn’t resist going all in.

It was about time to pull off the prank, but not without some help from Jude’s family.

The night before, after Jude had gone to bed, you had shared your plan with the rest of the family, gathering them in the kitchen for a secret discussion.

“So, I’ve got a prank in mind,” you whispered with a grin, glancing over your shoulder to make sure Jude wasn’t anywhere near. “And I need all of you to help me pull it off.”

Denise and Mark immediately perked up. Denise smiled warmly as she leaned against the counter, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Oh, I love a good prank. What are we doing?”

You explained the viral TikTok trend and how you planned to call Jude by his full name—Jude Victor William Bellingham—in front of everyone. The key to the prank was keeping a straight face and making Jude think he was in some serious trouble, even though he hadn’t done anything wrong.

Mark chuckled, already seeing how Jude might react. “You know he’s going to be confused as hell. He never hears his full name unless it’s something serious.”

Denise nodded enthusiastically, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “And he hasn’t been called that since he was a little boy. I’m in.”

Jobe, who had been listening while casually scrolling through his phone, suddenly grinned. “Wait, you want us all to act like Jude’s in trouble? Oh, I’m so in for this. I’ll make it dramatic.”

You laughed, already imagining Jobe hamming it up and making Jude’s confusion even worse. “Exactly! He won’t know what hit him. I’m going to start it off casually, and then we’ll see where it goes from there.”

Denise giggled like a schoolgirl. “I can’t wait to see his face.”

“And don’t worry,” you added with a wink. “Rosie will have the final word. She’s going to unknowingly seal the deal.”

Mark laughed and nodded approvingly. “You’re using our granddaughter as the secret weapon. Smart move.”

The plan was set. You all knew your roles. Now, all you had to do was wait until tomorrow.

The next day, everything felt perfect. The family had gathered in the living room after a hearty lunch. Jude, unaware of what was coming, was lounging comfortably on the couch next to you, scrolling through Netflix and mindlessly suggesting shows to watch.

Your daughter, Rosie, was sitting on the floor, her tiny fingers wrapped around the plastic handles of her dolls as she hummed happily to herself. Jude’s parents, Denise and Mark, sat across the room in armchairs, chatting softly, while Jobe sprawled out on the other couch, pretending to be deep into his phone, but really waiting for his moment to strike.

You caught Denise’s eye from across the room, and she gave you a small, conspiratorial nod. It was time.

You leaned back against the cushions, acting as casual as you could, before dropping the bomb. “Jude Victor William Bellingham,” you said, your voice carrying just enough weight to suggest seriousness, but not too much to make it sound fake.

Jude’s body froze. He turned slowly to look at you, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “Wait... what?” he said, blinking at you as if you had just said something in a foreign language.

You stared back at him, keeping your face completely neutral. “You heard me,” you said with a deadpan expression. “Jude Victor William Bellingham.”

The room fell silent. Denise lowered her cup of tea slowly, her eyes widening in what could only be described as mock concern. Mark raised an eyebrow from behind his newspaper, peeking over the top like he was waiting for some kind of explanation. Even Jobe, who had been doing his best to act oblivious, now sat up straighter, his mouth open in exaggerated shock.

“Bro,” Jobe muttered, shaking his head dramatically. “Not the full name. You’re in deep now.”

Jude looked around the room, his expression one of total confusion. “What the hell is going on? Why are you using my full name like that?”

Denise, ever the supportive mom, chimed in softly, her voice laced with concern. “Sweetheart, what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Jude exclaimed, laughing nervously, but still visibly unsettled by the sudden use of his full name. “Why is everyone acting like I’ve committed some crime?”

You tried your hardest to maintain your composure, but it was difficult. Jude’s face was a mix of disbelief, nervousness, and slight panic, like he was trying to figure out if there was some major mistake he didn’t remember making.

Jobe, of course, leaned into the drama, shaking his head slowly. “Nah, bro, when they drop your full name like that, it’s over. You’ve done something. Just admit it now and save yourself.”

Jude looked genuinely baffled now, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “But I haven’t done anything! I swear!”

You kept your serious expression, though inside you were practically bursting with laughter. “Jude Victor William Bellingham,” you repeated, drawing out each syllable for extra effect. “I can’t believe you don’t know what you’ve done.”

Jude threw his hands up in the air, looking helplessly around the room. “I’m telling you, I’ve got no idea! Mum, Dad, help me out here!”

Denise shrugged, her lips pressed together as if she were trying hard not to laugh. “I don’t know, Jude. She used your full name. You must have done something.”

At this point, Mark lowered his newspaper fully, folding it on his lap as he gave Jude a sympathetic look. “Son, full names are no joke. Maybe it’s time to come clean.”

Jude groaned, still laughing but now visibly confused and stressed. “But there’s nothing to come clean about! You’re all ganging up on me for no reason!”

That’s when Rosie, who had been mostly absorbed in her dolls, suddenly looked up. Her big brown eyes, wide and full of innocence, locked onto her father. She paused for a moment, processing the serious tone everyone had adopted, before deciding it was time for her input.

In the sweetest, most innocent voice, she pointed a tiny finger at Jude and said, “Oooooh, Dada, you’re in soooo much trouble.”

That was it. The room erupted into chaos. Jobe doubled over, clutching his stomach as he let out a loud laugh. Denise was wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, while Mark chuckled deeply, unable to contain himself. You couldn’t hold it in any longer either, bursting into giggles as Rosie’s serious tone tipped everyone over the edge.

Jude, now laughing but still utterly bewildered, pulled Rosie into his lap, covering her face with kisses as she squealed with delight. “You little traitor!” he teased, tickling her until she shrieked with laughter. “Even you’re turning against me?”

Rosie wiggled in his arms, still giggling as she buried her face into his chest. “Dada in trouble!” she squeaked, clearly enjoying the attention and the fact that she had somehow been part of the big prank.

You wiped the tears from your eyes, finally catching your breath. “You should’ve seen your face, Jude. You looked like you were trying to figure out if you’d broken the law or something!”

Jude shook his head, though his smile was wide and affectionate. “I genuinely thought I’d forgotten something major, like our anniversary or Rosie’s birthday or—I don’t even know!” He laughed, running a hand through his hair again. “You got me good, I’ll give you that.”

Denise, still recovering from her laughter, smiled warmly at you. “That was brilliant, darling. You’ve officially outdone yourself.”

Mark nodded in agreement. “I’ve never seen Jude look so lost in my life. Well done.”

Jobe, who had been leaning back on the couch with a smug grin, chimed in. “I’ll give you points for execution, but honestly, Rosie’s line took it to a whole new level. That was gold.”

Rosie, still sitting in Jude’s lap, seemed to sense that she had become the star of the show. She smiled proudly, looking up at her father with wide eyes. “I got you, Dada,” she said softly, and Jude’s heart melted on the spot.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in for a big hug. “Yeah, you did, little one. You’re too smart for your own good.”

You couldn’t help but feel a swell of warmth in your chest as you watched the scene unfold. What had started as a lighthearted prank had turned into one of those perfect family moments—filled with love, laughter, and the kind of joy that only comes from being surrounded by the people who matter most.

Jude leaned back, cradling Rosie against his chest, and gave you a playful look. “You realize this means war, right? There’s no way I’m letting you get away with this.”

You raised an eyebrow, grinning. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Well, if you think you’re getting away with pranks this easily, you’re in for a surprise.”

Mark, who had returned to his newspaper, chuckled quietly. “Careful, son. She’s got Rosie on her side. You don’t stand a chance.”

Jobe snickered. “Yeah, man. You’re outnumbered.”

Denise, always the peacemaker, leaned forward and patted Jude’s knee. “Well, at least now you know what it feels like to be on the receiving end of a prank. I’d say it builds character.”

Jude groaned dramatically but squeezed Rosie a little tighter, his playful eyes never leaving yours. “I guess this is what I get for falling in love with a prankster.”

You leaned in closer, your voice soft but teasing. “And don’t forget, I’ve got the ultimate prank partner right here.” You gestured toward Rosie, who had already snuggled into Jude’s chest, her tiny hand gripping his shirt as she started to doze off after all the excitement.

Jude smiled, his eyes twinkling with affection. “Yeah, yeah. I guess if it’s you two, I can handle a little trouble.”

As the afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the cozy living room, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the simple joys of family life. The prank had been a success, sure, but more than that, it was moments like these—filled with love, laughter, and the people you loved most—that made everything feel just right.

And as you snuggled up next to Jude, Rosie sound asleep in his arms, you knew that no matter what, these were the moments that would stick with you forever.

[tojisun]

my simon riley brain rot is so intense that i put on lip gloss today and i immediately thought of bimbo!reader and simon and her leaving sparkly lip gloss kisses all over simon's face AHHHHH, anyways thank u for blessing us with that series

aww thats so cute 🥹🫶🏼 and omg thank you so much for liking the mini-series!! writing it made me happy for a while and im glad to have been able to share it w you all <33 that said my finger slipped and—

thinkin about doing that pop-pop-pop lip-smacking finish after applying a lipgloss. simon hears that and already knows the drill—phone down, eyes up, and watch as you wrap up with your makeup—and huffs a quiet laugh, fond and achingly soft, when he sees you staring at your reflection while using your acrylics to meticulously swipe at the excess gloss on the corner of your mouth.

you’re adorable, that’s all. just humming to yourself every session, happy to blend away from reality as you get sucked into the beat of your music while laser-focused eyes keep flicking between your makeup bag and your face. he can watch you all day long—and he has, but you noticed him so soon and gave him a shy little giggle.

“not yet!” you whined, hiding behind your palms like simon isn’t a man blessed with a beautiful darling. “look ‘way!”

he did so with another endeared puff of his breaths, and from then on, learned to just rely on the sounds. the tells; the way your quiet hum echoes with the final zip of your makeup bag, giving him just enough time to calm the excitement in his stomach because, and you don’t even know this, simon loves nothing more than to feel your own giddiness resonate as you bounce towards him.

it isn’t any different today—you clamber to him with a giggle, and simon easily pulls you on his lap, his eyes crinkled in his delight.

“y’done, sweetheart?” he asks even when it’s the obvious.

“yup!” you reply, annunciating every letter. you cup his jaw with two hands, soft and flower-scented palms gently cradling his face. “can i kiss you?”

“y’don’t have to ask, love,” he croons and smiles at your excited squeal.

peppering kisses descend on his face, every drag of your lips leaving a sticky sensation but he doesn’t mind them one bit. he will proceed to wear the lipstick stains with pride because god, everyone needs to know how lucky he is to be loved so dearly by you.

the last kiss is a chaste peck on his lips. you pull back but simon whines in disapproval.

“one more,” he grunts, breathing the words directly on your mouth. “i’ve been so patient so i need one more.”

his words tickle a sweet laugh from you. it rings, like chimes and twinkles, before giving him a nod then soft lips meet his again.

simon basks in your warmth, feeling so full of unbridled joy.

[rubiehart]

jj with a really super girly reader!! like pink everything, bows, the whole coquette look🎀💗🍓

ఌ whenever you decide to paint your own nails for once, he always helps you paint your dominant hand, holding your hand in his larger one, tongue poking out between his lips in concentration as he focuses. giggling a little, “oops. you got it jayj.” whenever he’d , go out of the lines a little, spilling some of the glittery polish onto your finger.

ఌ convincing him to do the tiktok trend where you tie a bow around your bf’s bicep and him mindlessly agreeing whilst scrolling on his phone, looking up at he hears you chirp a little ‘all done!’ to see the little pink bow tied delicately around his arm and grinning at you, “look just like you now, pretty.”

ఌ him coming over to see your vase which is normally filled with pretty pink or red roses is empty, asking you about it casually, “oh, i’ve been meaning to get some more at the market, keep forgettin’.” you’d reply, muffled against his shoulder as you watch the tv, he takes a mental note and you forget about the interaction all together until the next day you come home from work to see a fresh bouquet of baby pink roses sitting all pretty in your vase, and a little note, “hope you like the flowers girly. ♡︎” making you smile and shoot him a thankyou text, all giddy that he remembers lil’ things you tell him.

ఌ buying you a matching pink zippo lighter to his and carving both of your initials into it like he did on his!! maybe tying a lil’ pink bow around it when he gave it to you, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly anticipating your reaction “sorry it’s not much baby-“ not giving him chance to finish before flinging yourself into his arms and smattering his face with grateful kisses.

ఌ you’ve basically built a collection of those little animal skincare/makeup headbands with the lil’ snails and bunny’s and he’d deffo wear one while you do your makeup or tries them all one, finding it funny to distract you because he thinks you look adorable when you scold him.

ఌ when he starts staying over at your house more often he uses your body washes and shampoos because it’s basically his only option!! (also because he loves the smell of you, duh.) but you buy him his own little toiletry basket with shampoo, body wash, deodorant maybe a mini of his cologne and put a toothbrush for him in your bathroom so they’re together all cute!!

ఌ having little self care nights when you put on cute scented sheet masks and him wearing a tiger one with the whiskers and everything, patting it down against his warm skin as he keeps fake biting you, sniggering when you look at him disapprovingly with a “jj.” because he can’t take you seriously in that unicorn sheet mask!!

[celestialsequels]

couldn’t see me without you, babe ¡! ❞

— synopsis: you’re in love with the it girl of your high school.

— warnings: fluffy, make out session, the most wholesome thing i’ve ever written.

— w/c: 1.9k

— part 2

a/n: credits to @jenctrl for helping me with the kiss scene !

•

digital cameras fluttered with alacrity as she made her way through the bustling hallways. turning everyone's heads without hesitation. her hair bounced with every step she took. she was as gorgeous as a butterfly, so delicate yet capturing everyone’s eye more than anything.

that was yu jimin.

that was the school’s it girl, as you always said. everything about her made your heart turn into mush and your face turn redder than a smooshed cranberry. those quick little glances she’d shoot your way left you a mess. in the midst of the night, she was the only thing encapsulating your dreams, refusing to leave until dawn.

yeonjun was sick of you for always bringing up jimin; he knew how insanely head over heels you were for her. you constantly told him the little details ranging from quick glances to full blown eye contact sessions from across the room. he swore you were crazy the moment you blushed at the note in your locker that said something along the lines of “you left your key in class; here it is.” your mind just knew it was jimin. only yeonjun knew it was the janitor.

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“can somebody please tell me when cubism became a revolutionary movement in the history of art?” yeonjun asked the class as you two stood in front of the class to present your done-last-minute-but-looks-good-enough art project.

you scanned around the room hoping somebody would answer since you clearly didn’t know the answer, having only been running the entire day on two cans of red bull. you crossed your arms, zoning out at the giant window while anticipating the smart kid of the class to answer. you tapped your chin trying to remember if you had anything in your mind since you were the one who wrote these questions.

“1907-08,” a voice spoke out of the classroom, breaking you out of your thoughts. you could recognize that voice anywhere. the way you began to giggle had the entire class thinking if you were having a stroke since you weren’t really the type to even smile in art class. your face lighting up as delusions encased themselves in your mind.

“that’s right!” you yelled out faster than yeonjun could utter out a word, scaring the entire class in the process of doing so.

“of course it’s correct. i’m never wrong,” and there she was in all of her glory, leaning on the door frame with a smirk painted on her face.

you coughed out loud as you choked on your saliva from how intensely she was staring at you and only you. yeonjun nudged you with his elbow, subtly telling you to get your act together since you were being too obvious.

“how may i help you jimin?” your art teacher interrupted. since jimin was older than you and a heck ton smarter than you, it was evident that she was adored by every teacher.

“i wanted to borrow a student from your class for an interview. it’s for my psychology project, and i really need them right now,” jimin spoke, still sporting a smirk in your direction as she knew your art teacher would never say no to her. your heart was doing all sorts of things; dancing around like jojo siwa in karma while also moonwalking all the beats through your body. your palms felt sweat pool in the center from how nervous her gaze was making you.

“take your pick, jimin,” your art teacher offered.

“can i take y/n if that wouldn’t be a problem?” her voice was more giddy than the expressions on her face.

you swore the things around you had stopped moving, the only thing you could hear was your blood pumping through your veins, clearly turning your face red. yeonjun stepped on your foot this time causing you to squeak out loud before muttering out a quick “sorry”.

“not a problem at all. y/n, please accompany jimin with her project,” your art teacher smiled internally, noticing how you turned red, but he was hopeful this could be the start of something new. you quickly nodded, almost embarrassingly tripping over the cord of the projector below your feet as you made your way towards jimin. she eyed you up and down hastily, mentally telling you to follow her to wherever she wanted to take you. you kept your head down as your shyness made an awkward entrance, quietly following behind her. she paid no mind to you until you two finally approached the library. jimin stopped suddenly, catching you completely off guard as you walked straight into her back.

“pay attention, pretty girl,” you froze at the endearment, pinching yourself to recollect yourself out of this dream.

you two made your way inside the library after that little moment, finding a cozy spot in the corner. it almost made you feel as if you were on a date with jimin, with the way she tucked your chair in as you sat down. you truly wondered what that would feel like.

“hi,” you managed to say despite the fact that you were out of breath by just being in her presence. you were oddly confused as you realized she didn’t have her notes with her for the interview until you recalled that she’s smarter than you and doesn’t do her projects the day before they're due.

“so, i have a couple of questions for you. this interview is solely based on having a casual conversation,” jimin paused at your confused expression before continuing, “it’s going to have common questions such as likes, dislikes, etc. is that okay?” she asked you, to which you politely nodded with a smile.

“okay, perfect. first question then. what do you think about museums?” she piped.

“museums? i really like them. i think they capture a lot more than just what was. they hold stories of people who once loved, once hated, and once made the entire world think if there was more to art,” you answered with a small chuckle at the end. jimin simply stared at you, almost in awe with how you formulated your words, especially since she knew that you didn’t like talking much.

“i’ve never thought about it like that! next question, what is your favorite type of flower?” she asked while tucking her hair behind her ear.

“if i’m being honest, i really love the old fashioned roses. i don’t have much to say for that other than the fact that it symbolizes such timeless romance,” you chimed.

“okay how about—wait what’s your opinion on—,” before jimin could ask you another question, the bell for next period rang loudly, reminding you that you had a test today that you totally didn’t forget to study for.

“i’m so sorry! i just realized i had a test today. can we pick this up tomorrow or perhaps, later?” you rushed out.

“oh! that’s completely okay. i’ll see you tomorrow then, or if i run into you later on. thank you for your time!” jimin smiled at you as you grinned before making your way out of the library and onto your next class.

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students had begun to jet outside of classes, piling up in the halls as the final bell of the day rang. you tiredly walked to yeonjun’s locker, filling him in on what had taken place in the library today. you felt the red bull beginning to wear off as all your energy had vanished the moment you stepped out of the test. teachers were heading to meetings they had been informed of at the last minute, causing everyone to be kicked out of class almost right at the bell.

“so, that’s all that happened? isn’t it weird how the questions weren’t the least bit psychology related?” yeonjun questioned curiously.

“well, she did mention that it was an interview based on having a casual conversation, but she didn’t exactly explain it, so i didn’t question her,” you responded tiredly.

“hmm, okay. go get your stuff so we can leave. i need to return this book to the library before it closes!” he yelled as he ran to the library, practically pushing people out of his way.

you shook your head at his buffoonery and made your way to your locker. foolishly forgetting your code before trying again, letting out a grateful susurration as it opened. you grabbed your textbook along with your keys. you were just about to close your locker until you saw a note fall out of the corner. looking around, you swiftly picked it up before gently unfolding it.

“meet me in the art room after the final bell”

without even hesitating, you shut your locker and trudged to the art room only to find it locked. you opened the note again, which you had shoved inside of your pocket, to check if you were at the right room. you clicked your tongue as you waited for something to happen or somebody to at least open the door. you noticed how the hallway had gotten so eerie. the atmosphere of the hallway almost forcing you to get going until you suddenly felt somebody tug roughly at the back of your collar and pull you into the art room.

it was jimin.

“hi, y/n,” she shyly smiled at you as you stared at her in surprise.

“hi, jimin. i wasn’t expecting that strength,” you tried to joke until you realized how horrible of an attempt it was.

before you could say anything else, you saw her rushingly dig into her bag for something. she slowly pulled out a rose from her side pocket and handed it to you, not letting you utter a word as she placed her finger on your lips, almost stilling you out of your mind. you blushed but didn’t dare to say anything.

“so, earlier during that ‘interview’ you mentioned you really liked museums, so i got us two tickets to the art museum downtown,” jimin said, taking your hand, gently placing the ticket in your palm, letting her fingers linger along your skin.

“jimin, i-i honestly don’t—you’re the sweetest little thing ever,” you gazed at her lovingly as you tried to gather your thoughts.

“you don’t have to say anything, y/nnie. i just want you to come with me,” she whispered.

she slowly tucked your hair behind your ear that had fallen in front of your face. you two locked eyes before she cupped under your jaw, bringing your lips near hers. you thanked whatever higher power there was for this moment just before you closed your eyes and let her take the lead.

as soon as her lips hit yours, you knew you were doomed for however long you were going to live this lifetime. butterflies erupted in your stomach while your heart leaped out of your chest in bliss. her soft lips continued to move against yours as your hands remained on her waist, pulling her in closer than ever. you two paused softly, smiling against each others’ lips before pulling back completely.

“so, i’ll come pick you up whenever you’re ready, pretty girl,” jimin beamed before heading out the door.

you happily nodded at her, not trusting your words in the moment. holding your chest as your heart wanted to simply embrace jimin and never let her go, you were sure your face was redder than it’s ever been.

“y/n? why are you so red?”

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

Could you write Remus being in a bad mood before the full moon and snapping at everyone, but gets all soft when gf reader is near

thanks for requesting! hope you like it!

pairing: Remus x reader

description: Remus is irritable before the full moon, his senses heightened and his temper short… but one person soothes him even when the rest of the world is anything but soothing.

tags: fluffy fluff, established relationship, gn, wolfstar if you squint, (can you tell how much i love sirius even when i’m not writing a sirius fic? oops)

word count: 1.4k

In the quiet, calm common room, where various groups of students sat lounging or studying, where the crackling fire filled the room with a glowing warmth, Remus Lupin sat with his mind in a frenzy, his emotions on a rollercoaster, his body simultaneously restless and aching. It was the night before the full moon, and in a lifelong string of bad ones, this one was particularly bad. His skin felt electric, his mood even more so. 

He was planning to retire to his dorm room as soon as — and he meant as fucking soon as — the assignment sprawled on the table in front of him was finished. It was a partnered project. And it was due tomorrow. James — unlucky enough to be his partner — sat on the floor on the other side of the table, sick of the homework and even more sick of his best mate. His best mate whom he loved… his best mate who’d always be there for him… he kept reminding himself when all he could notice was his best mate who snapped at him every three seconds… his best mate who kept losing his place in the project, prolonging the miserable experience each time. 

“I think if we just add the bit here about defensive spells at the end, it should be good enough,” he suggests in desperation. “Didn’t we already go over that part?” Remus shoots. “I know ‘good enough’ is perfectly acceptable when you partner with Padfoot, but I’d rather not let one stupid assignment tank the marks I’ve been working for all bloody term.” 

“I’m sitting right here, Moony,” Sirius says from beside him without even looking over, used to Remus’s meanness the days before the transformation. 

“Yes, the constant distractions to James’s already fickle attention span are reminder enough of that, thanks.” 

“Bloody hell you’re bitchy, Moony,” James defends himself, starting to seriously lose his patience. “You’re the one who keeps getting all jittery and losing his place, mate! We’d’ve finished an hour ago otherwise!” 

“I —” Remus starts but doesn’t continue, running his hands through his hair in frustration. After a second, a group of first year girls in a nearby corner starts giddily screaming and laughing, and Remus visibly flinches then looks at them murderously. “Fucking hell, have they never heard of ‘inside voices’? Nothing they could’ve just said could possibly that exciting.” 

“Alright, moody,” Sirius, more adept at dealing with Remus’s moods than James, finally turns to him. “How about you stop staring daggers at the happy children and focus on your shit so you two can finally finish?” “But they’re so bloody loud,” Remus complains, his senses on overdrive driving him mad. He rolls his eyes at them, and when they let out another fit of loud giggling, his expression suggests he’s considering going over to ask them —politely, he surely thinks — to keep it down. Sirius chuckles but smacks Remus with a cushion to distract him before he inadvertently makes a group of little girls cry. Better Remus takes it out on him and James than strangers, he thinks. Remus not so gently shoves Sirius in response. “What the hell, Pads?! I feel like my skin is on fucking fire, and you, you what? want a pillow fight? Why is everyone behaving like eleven year old girls?” “Well,” Sirius responds with utter calm, “They’re acting like eleven year old girls because they are, Moons. I’m acting like an eleven year old girl because being giddy with your mates transcends age and gender, and you… well, you’re acting like an eleven year old girl because it’s your time of the month, darling.” 

“You’re insufferable.” 

“No, you are. But we’ll suffer you anyway, right Prongs?” 

James grunts and gives a half-hearted, “yeah, yeah.” Remus rolls his eyes but cools off a bit. He goes back to the assignment for a few minutes.

“Pads, no offense, mate, but can you go sit over there?” he asks, nodding at the armchair next to the sofa. 

“Rude.” “It’s just… you’re… you’re really hot,” Remus says, his voice tinged with something like embarrassment. Sirius gasps and brings his hand to his chest in mock-scandal. 

“Moony! I didn’t know you felt this way about me.” He laughs. In a whisper, he jokes, “Does Y/N know?” Remus just glares at him. “Because you’re not so bad yourself, handsome.” He wriggles his eyebrows at Remus. Remus just shoves him again, this time more playfully, and Sirius gives him space. “Thanks. It’s like my senses are all ten times keener.”

After another painful while of working, Remus registers the common room door opening and closing, and a moment later loud laughter reaches his ears. James and Sirius turn to him in concern, thinking he’s going to snap again. But he doesn’t.

You and Lily, still laughing loudly together, come over to the boys. You plop down next to Remus and all but lay on top of him with an exaggerated exhale. Okay, now they’re certain he’ll snap at the contact. But he doesn’t.

“I’m soo tired,” you say. And when you notice Sirius and James’ wide eyes staring at you in horror, you add, “What?,” looking around confusedly. 

Remus’s arms wrap themselves around you, he nuzzles into your jumper, breathing you in, and he says, “Godric, I’m happy to see you, love.” James and Sirius’ expressions relax, James rolling his eyes and Sirius just chuckling. You don’t even notice, your attention fully on Remus now. You wrap your arms around him in turn and start running your hand up and down his back. “You okay, Rem?” you whisper. “No,” James answers before Remus can say anything. “He’s being a complete twat.” You laugh and look down at him in your arms. “That true?” In response, he just buries his head in the crook of your neck, hiding. You feel him give an affirmative “hmm.” You turn back to your other friends, saying, “Well, lads, I’m sure he’s very sorry.” “Yeah, yeah,” says James with a scowl that looks suspiciously like suppressed laughter. Sirius gathers their stuff and, pulling James off the floor, says, “Let’s give the lovebirds some space. You can finish this in the morning.”

It’s just you and Remus on the sofa now, cuddling in the quiet, one of your hands soothingly scratching his scalp, the other rubbing his back. 

“I have something for you,” you tell him. His eyes droopy from your ministrations, he looks up at you and quirks an eyebrow. When you scoot a bit away from him to grab your bag, he whines dramatically and pulls you back to him. “Relax, I’m right here,” you laugh, settling in again. “Here,” you say as you hand him a chocolate bar. He giggles in response. “Thanks, sweetheart. I went through the rest of my stash this weekend.” “I know,” you smirk at him. He nuzzles into your shoulder again. “You always take such good care of me,” he whispers, giving your shoulder a kiss. “You take care of me too, Rem. Just in different ways.” Your hand comes up to caress his cheek, and you kiss his forehead before settling yours against it. 

“I love you.” A squeeze. “I love you too.” A chaste peck. 

After a minute, you stop running your hands through his hair. 

“Please don’t stop,” he pleads. “You have no idea what you do to me.” You cheekily quirk an eyebrow at him. 

He chuckles lowly but says, “Not like that.” A beat; he smirks. “Well, like that too,” he chuckles again. “But right now I just mean you… I don’t know… you soothe me, I guess. All of me.” He looks a bit more serious now. “James wasn’t wrong. I’ll apologize later. But it’s been driving me absolutely mad all day.” He sighs, and you know he means the upcoming transformation. “But when I’m with you, it’s like the world slows down to normal again. Better than normal, actually, since you’re with me.” He gives you an adoring smile, holding your hand and drawing circles on the back of it. “You soothe all my senses, Y/N.” He kisses the back of your hand. “And my soul,” he adds. 

“Remus,” you whine lovingly. “Stop. You’re going to make me cry. And I can never say such beautiful things to you.” “You don’t have to say anything,” he says genuinely. “Just be with me.” He pulls you closer again, and you continue your comforting gestures. 

“That I can do,” you say, and he smiles with all the warmth you feel, gives you a lingering kiss, and settles back into your arms.

[mywritersmind]

CAT PARENTS - LN4

pt.3

summary : Part three!! Surprise surprise, Lando is in disbelief when Olivia shows up at his race! A weekend in Monaco is all it takes for the two to go from friends to blind idiots that are crushing on each other

OG SUMMARY (A kitten is all it takes to get two strangers in the same bed for the night. Lando likes how she doesn’t know him, Olivia likes the cat that he’s trying to take from her.)

listen up : at this point i’m writing a whole story so more parts will be coming!

word count : 2244

“You’re freaking out. Why?” Max asks me as I enter the Paddock.

My life has been crazy over the past three weeks. I’ve texted and called Lando non stop, Have interacted with all his friends, and am now some sort of F1 fan??

This all landed me right into his world, Max invited me. Not Lando. That’s why I'm freaking out because I'm surprising Lando and I don’t even know if he likes me but I really like him and I miss him even though we’ve literally met once.

“Surprises are nerve-wracking!” I frown at Max as he leads me through the crowds.

“Don’t worry! He will be excited. Trust me.” The way he says those last two words makes me feel more confident. I don’t know how much guys tell their friends about their relationship but I tell my girls everything. I’m hoping it’s close to the same.

I told Max I needed to wait until after the race, I don’t know what kind of preparation he does before and I don’t want to mess anything up.

Max hands me a glass of champagne once we’re in hospitality, “Breathe. Race is in five minutes.” He points down to the garages, “There’s your boy.” my heart beats faster when I see him. ‘Seeing him’ is an interesting phrase because I can only really see his helmet since he’s inside the car.

I relax a bit when Landos teammate's girlfriend joins us. Her name is Lily and even though she’s quiet, she’s incredibly funny and good at making me feel welcome.

Max and Lily help me understand a bit when a red flag happens, some drivers get lapped, the whole dirty air thing.

But before I know it, Lando is crossing the finish line, first.

“Oh my god!” I slap my hand over my mouth as Max grins at me.

“Ready to go see your lover boy?”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

From where we left things, Lando and I had facetimed nearly every day, talking about anything and everything. Everytime I show Juan he looks like he’s about to cry and talks about how big she’s getting.

One night however, stuck with me the most.

His texts were stupid and silly. But I can’t help but wonder why I was the one his mind went to.

Now I'm fiddling with my rings and walking down to the driver's area. Max said he’d have time before a bunch of interviews so I could sneak in quickly.

I knock on his door and when he opens it, I can’t help but smile. His hair is wet with champagne, his curls falling into his face and his suit half unzipped.

His blank stare turns into a wide grin in an instant, “You’re here!” He yells.

I grin, “You’re like sherlock.”

He shakes his head and pulls me into a hug, “Sorry! I’m all gross right now.” He keeps his hands on my waist, “Where is Juna!?”

We talk for five minutes alone, he asks me a million questions and I congratulate him for the millionth time. “Come meet Oscar!” He grabs my hand, all giddy, and drags me to a hallway that’s taken up by three men.

Orange, Red, and Blue.

He introduces me to Oscar Piastri, Carlos Sainz, and Max Verstappen. They all look far too interested in me for three rich and successful men.

“How’d you two meet?” Daniel asks, sipping on his water.

“He tried to steal my cat.” I say easily as Lando hits my arm playfully.

“I tried to help our cat!”

“Our?” Oscar raises a brow.

We tell them about Juna and our ridiculous night in. They’re all laughing at my joke about Lando being a great cat dad when another driver joins us.

“A female?” This one I know, Alex Albon is one of my favorites (especially because his girlfriend is iconic) When all the boys look at Lando the Williams driver laughs, “Woah- When did you get a girlfriend Lan?”

This makes Lando blush, “No she’s- Uh… This is Olivia!” He clarifies awkwardly as Alex looks thoroughly impressed that he embarrassed him before smiling at me and shaking my hand.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

Lily is my saving grace tonight. Lando’s been busy all night, he keeps glancing at me from across the room and mouthing ‘i’m sorry’. But it’s honestly no worries because I’ve made a new best friend.

“Are you nervous?” She asks me, sipping on her cocktail in one of the drivers backyards.

I shrug, “A little? It’s weird- like I don’t know anyone but I know the whole world does.”

She laughs, nodding, “You’ll get used to it. Especially with Lando- not that you’re together or anything… but fame sort of follows.”

I hadn't even thought about that. I’ve seen the posts about him, the drama, and gossip that have been spread. I never realized that could be about me one day.

“I didn't mean to freak you out!” she says quickly.

“No! No, Don’t worry. I understand.” we fall into an easy conversation about work and how we’ve each ended up in our respective fields. Alex Albon interrupts us, placing his hand on Lily’s back and smiling.

“Lando is looking for you. Fair warning though… the boys are in interrogation mode.”

I should have listened to Alex’s warning more carefully because now I’m sat in a circle in front of a fire pit, being grilled.

“You seriously didn’t know Lando?” one asks.

“She’s american-”

“Actually her dad is a fan-” Lando tries to defend.

“Christ… of Alonso, not you.” someone laughs.

“Can we keep her?”

I laugh as Lando looks incredibly embarrassed, “She’s not a dog!”

“But I still like her!” It’s Carlos who’s arguing, “You know Alexandra would adore her- and we need someone to keep you in line.”

Charles nods along, “It’s true.”

“In line?” Lando scoffs, “I’m never out of line!”

Oscar raises a brow, “So we’re not gonna talk about that reporter you-”

“Okay!” Lando stops the conversation, “How about you lot have a normal conversation instead of interviewing Liv?”

Max Verstappen crosses his arms, looking pretty intimidating until his eyes light up, “Can I see your shared cat?” Now this is a topic I can talk about. I pull up photos of Juna and I yap about the silly things she’s done and clothes she’s ruined.

“So Lan… when are you getting her on Quadrant?” Max F smirks mischievously.

“She’s also not a guinea pig.” He says, leaning against my chair, “I’m so sorry.” He whispers to me.

“Don’t worry. It’s funny.”

“Can I ask you something, Olivia?” Max starts again and Lando immediately sits up.

“No.” he answers for me.

“What did you think about Lando’s drunk texting because let me tell you- I thought it was hilarious!” Lando’s best friend teases ruthlessly.

I’m trying not to laugh as Lando stands up, “I’m getting a drink!” When he walks past Max he pushes his head, messing up his hair.

I look at Max, “You’re torturing him.”

“He’s friends with you, He can handle it.” He just shrugs and while I try not to cling onto his words, I walk inside.

Lando’s back is turned to me, pouring some water.

I lean against the counter, “Looks like a fun way to celebrate a win.” I joke as he turns around quickly.

“I wanted to show you something after this- obeying the law and everything.” he shrugs. Take me somewhere? God he’s so mysterious yet it’s like I can see right through him.

I smile as he shyly looks down, “So the texts-”

“Lando, It’s fine.”

He shakes his head, his hand going to the back of his neck while his face bunches up, “No… I’m really sorry. I honestly had to delete them because I was so embarrassed. I never even drink that much!”

He’s rambling, his cheeks going pink when he notices I'm laughing, “Lan. It’s okay. Honestly it was funny.”

This seems to calm him, stepping closer and looking down at me, “I know that we’re not like best friends, or anything… but I did miss you.”

My heart skips a beat, meeting Lando’s icy eyes, “I…”

“Barbecue!” Daniel Riccardo screams as he enters the kitchen. We both spin around to see the man who slaps his arms back down to the side of his body, “Barbecue…?”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

Lando and I are spending three days together in Monaco. Wow. Okay. This is happening. This is crazy! What am I even thinking!? I can’t just crash at this guy's place all week! Not to mention he payed for my ticket which was super embarrassing!

Lando insists that it’s fine and that it’ll be great, “Lily and Alex will be here too! Everyone else who lives here as well but you don’t want to hang out with all my friends so I can show you around!” His smile is so bright that I just nod at his words. He’s holding Juna in his arms, he convinced me to fly out with her just because he missed her.

Cat dad.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Fuck!” I watch Lando fall into the harbor, slapping my hands over my mouth, I let out a muffled scream, “Lando!”

His head pops up with some sort of seaweed on him, He coughs once, climbs out of the water, and laughs, “That’s a first.” Is all he says before pulling his soaking shirt off.

I eye him, “Christ, we’re in public.” He eyes me right back, squeezing the water out with his arms… okay! “Are you okay?” I try to stop laughing but he looks like a wet puppy.

“I’m great!” He frowns, “Just got PUSHED in!” I scoff, clutching my necklace.

“I did no such thing!”

What truly happened was we were messing around, a little tipsy on the night air and how laughably terrible our day has been.

We had gotten turned away from three restaurants, We paid off the paparazzi, I fell on a bike and fucked up my knee, Juna got out and we almost died for a second…

This all led to multiple inside jokes and a feeling of being tied together through ridiculous trauma. When I pretended to push Lando in the water, he actually tripped and fell!

“We’re a mess.” He laughs as he runs his hand through my hair, “Well- I’m a mess!” He looks down at himself.

“Can't argue with that.” his mouth pulls into a smirk, “I think it’s time to go home.”

Lando sighs dramatically, “I think it’s time for ice cream.” He takes my hand in his, his cool skin warming me. He just pulls me in the other direction, I walk with him but my mind is on our intertwined hands.

He brings me to a little gelato place, orders in french and jokes with the owner as if he’s here 24/7.

“I didn’t know you speak french.” I say as we sit outside of the shop, licking my strawberry gelato off the spoon.

He laughs a bit, “I don’t. Just ice cream orders and casual greetings.” I smile at him, he’s in his own hoodie that he let me borrow before we went out. He felt horrible taking it from me but he was literally shivering with his wet shirt on.

I hum along to the song being played by a little band at a bar nearby, Lando smiles at me like he knows something.

“What?” I ask, feeling self conscious now.

He just shuts his mouth, mumbling, “Nothing…”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

LANDO NORRIS

She’s beautiful.

Genuinely gorgeous.

I’ve never really felt like this before. I think women are pretty every day, but with Liv… She’s just so stunning that it hurts.

When I fell into the water, I was pissed, but then I got out and she was laughing. She’s got a good laugh, the kind you want to laugh with. So I did, and I haven’t taken my eyes off her since. The moonlight sparkles in her eyes as she looks at me, confused.

I want to kiss her so badly.

It would be perfect, we’re alone, the streets are quiet, that band is strumming a toon. But I can’t tell if she fancies me. She’s here and she’s happy but I’ve never been good at being friends with women.

I don’t want to ruin what we have right now. It’s early still and she has two more days here…

“Lando?” Her sweet voice makes me sit up straighter, “You look freezing.” Her hand slips to my face, her hands are warm and I see the alarm in her face when she feels my cold skin.

I let out a dry laugh, “I am.”

Her hand moves down my arm, to my hand, “Let’s go then. Juna is probably plotting her second escape.” She takes my hand as we stand, not meeting my eyes, and that right there, gives me the tiniest bit of hope.

[wroteclassicaly]

18+

Warnings: Language, slight smut, touching, body-issues, reader has insecurities over big chest, ass slapping, oral sex (f receiving), self-esteem, mentions slight panic and anxiety, mirror play, and NSFW.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!Plus size Reader

Wordcount: 1,945

A/N: I’ve had a lot of negative comments from people/my family about my weight lately, so… This is self-indulgent. I need Eddie to make me and my body type feel appreciated.

Buying lingerie to show Eddie and he’s honored that someone dresssd up for him.

You had fumbled with the bags all day, caught between regretting your decision and ready to take it on. Eddie wasn’t like other guys… other people, really. It wasn’t that you feared what he would do, no. It was the humiliating dread of him being nice to spare your feelings, the worst possible outcome equaling out to disgust at your surprise. But you had pushed it aside, freshened in your shower, applied a different makeup look to frame your features, then slipped an old parka on over the black lace.

You’d forgone heels and kept your boots on, those easy to take off once you had arrived at the trailer, your giddy boyfriend greeting you like he’s never seen you a day in his life. With the air conditioner properly placed in the trailer, Eddie’s hair was down, curled around his shoulders, a simple white tank top and black cut off sweat shorts over his trim form. He’s always beautiful to you. The amused smirk on his face did not go unnoticed, however, upon taking in your parka in this sweltering Indiana heat (even at night). It was an automatic “it’s cooler in my room, if you wanna?” offer, with him grabbing two bottles of coke from his fridge on the way.

Time to do this thing…

~*~

When he pushes his door open, the coolness that carries his Old Spice, nicotine soaked scent, it hits you square in the face. You relax a little, already sliding your fingers into your jacket buttons, popping them open and working the zipper. His back is to you as clears some space on his dresser, going on about why you’re wearing a coat, if you’re okay, what is it about. Your teeth sink into your lower lip, an anxious reaction, and you’re shoving the coat off your shoulders, exposed skin immediately stimulated with the prickles of electrifying goosebumps. And Eddie, god love him, he isn’t at all prepared for what he sees when your voice hooks into his attention span and gets him to turn around.

“Eddie?”

Initially, you take his shocked look as something bad. His widened eyes and slack jaw, the way he runs his fingers and tugs at his own roots. You feel an immature burn of familiar tears, reaching to pick up the coat and apologize. His voice leaves zero room for that energy in here.

“No, baby. No, sweetheart.” Layering on pet names to help soothe you, he calms the panicked nerves he can see escalating.

Though his own heart rate is out of control, his tongue’s tip on fire, touching his cheek, sweats suddenly tighter. You are his personal goddess on the daily — something he never expected, nor looked for. And you did this for him? The devil freak gets something special from an Angel like you? Temporarily halting your actions, you do notice the way his eyes expand into the depths of midnight black, how he reaches to adjust himself in his sweats - it keeps you here.

He reaches for you with that outstretched, tattooed arm. “Baby? Let me in. Let me see? I’m just not used to this…” He rushes to correct his phrasing, already knowing what it could do to you. “I mean, I’m not used to a hot fuckin’ woman getting dressed up for a guy like me, y’know? Takes a minute to sink in. And honestly? I’m waiting for Wayne to wake me up right now.”

It all clicks for you. It isn’t just about your insecurities, but this also giving something special to someone who also struggles to see confidence and self-worth. You’ve never been more proud of yourself than in this moment, overcoming your fears to get Eddie Munson this excited? You take his hand with a soft smile, albeit, still shy as he brings you around to pinch your chin between his fingertips, leaning in to press a kiss to your nose’s tip. His voice is gravelly, soaked in heat. Eddie’s mouth ghosts across your own, barely touching as he asks, “Permission to touch?”

You give into him, hand still in his, the other raising to hold onto the warmth of his shoulder, twirling his curls into your grasp to ease some nerves. His eyes immediately widen as he truly gets to look you over. Overflowing thighs in a beautiful thong, your thick curls peeking out of the sides, your beautiful legs — clad in silk sheer stockings, lace trimmed to meet, your stretch marks, your scars, the way, in which, you carry your plush stomach, to your full breasts that spill over the cups, and even your makeup — different, darker, more smoldering. He tips the digits of his spare hand, rings clinking together as he tickles his way up your forearm, tracing the vein back down, until he’s tapping on your pulse point inside of your wrist. Hands join, his grip shifting you into a twist, with your back pressed against his chest, and how badly he wants you nudging at your bare ass cheek.

You bow your head from immediate reflection in the mirror — something your boyfriend has yet to see. He’s too busy watching the way your ass swallows that thin black strap, this set showcasing all the indents that cascade down your thighs. And even your boots, he loves that you kept it you, that you didn’t force yourself into heels. You don’t like them, he knows this. He lets his fingers path their way along your spine, rubbing across the clasp on your bra, pausing to ask once more, now quite aware that you’re looking awkwardly at his messy floor.

“Sweetheart? You okay up there?” It’s silent for a beats, but then you’re mentioning his mirror.

He fights back a sigh, because how can you not see how perfect you look — without or without all of this. He wants to keep your comfort in mind, but it’s also important that he helps you see how fucking gorgeous you are. So he shakes his head, his curls tickling your shoulder blades.

“I don’t think so.”

You object, stopping yourself when his voice pleads into a softness that you’ve never heard from him before.

“I want to try somethin’. And if you don’t like it, we move away from the mirror, kay? Zero pressure, all your call.”

You have to admit that you’re intrigued, and excitement bubbling beneath your breastbone, dumping molten lava over your flesh. Eddie can see you inhale sharply through the mirror. He does that downward nod, brow raised, and you’re nodding. He’s so giddy that his tongue pokes out in concentration, joined hands freed, one of his dipping backward in a journey to slide the back of his knuckles across your thong strap. You arch into his torso, watching him watch you.

There’s a primal confidence that stirs in your belly, twists inside of your gut, ultimately soaking you between your legs. And as he finds the clasp on your bra, getting it unhooked in one go, only for his hands to dance along your sides, hook underneath your armpits, and immediately begin to tease your areola in languid strokes — you lose it. He allows his chin to rest on your shoulder, his voice the cure for everything you’ve ever needed, or will desire. “Look at yourself. Don’t look at me, just watch yourself.”

Your gaze finds your own body, not even caring at the exposure of your breasts or how they hang (something you are trying to be okay with, you know), heart accelerating full speed ahead, sure that Eddie can feel it. It’s almost like his mimicking the way he runs his fingers across the body of his guitar — easy, languidly, making sure to dip and curve when necessary. He goes with your head tilt, his voice finding your earlobe, hot breath causing your nipples to harden. “This body, it’s like the shield of your secret world. One that only I’m allowed into…” He breaks apart his sentence to drop his hands over your navel, curling into that ticklish spot that has you shivering.

“Eddie…” You watch your lips part, tongue licking to smear your lipstick.

It seems as if you’re watching a private show, beautiful woman and her beautiful lover. You’re out of body, yet you have never been more present. Eddie, he can hardly think, his breaths falling over uneven pants, his cock so hard that his eyes could cross. He can’t stop touching you, won’t dare miss how your eyes have glossed over at the performance your body is giving you. He can cry within this moment, so grateful, so fuckin’ proud of you.

So he keeps going, saying what he feels in several organs. “Your body is a map and I get to explore it with these.” He wiggles his fingers against your tummy, letting them fall above your elastic waistband, before they dip inside. Holy Christ, you’re warm, and he hasn’t even touched you properly.

“With my lips.” His lips find the flesh of your neck, sucking the skin into his mouth — tasting your perspiration, your body wash… you.

He watches your legs spread on their own accord, beckoning him to take what he wants. His fingers brush through your soaking wet curls, a moan leaving his throat so deep that it echoes inside of his diaphragm. Fuck. You’re a mess. Both of you hold your breaths as his fingers glide along your seam, combing through your hair, making it even sloppier, cruder.

And the way you sound…

It is you who looks up first this time to catch the reflection, enchanted by the way his knuckles and the rings adorning take shape beneath your lace panties. He lets his remaining hand smack your ass, one cheek at a time, before it cups your breast to give a pinch. You’re shocked when he releases you to come around and briefly block your view. But he presses his sticky fingers to your mouth and you suck them in without question, enjoying your own taste (something you would barely try beforehand), and Eddie literally gasps, tugging you by a love handle in for a crushing kiss. By the time you part, you’ve left your lipstick stain on his fingers and his own mouth — your claim.

That’s when he licks his lips, dropping to his knees, giving you an entirely different view. He’s at your feet, tugging your panties down, a thick creamy web threaded from you to the crotch, making you swallow harshly. You balance on his shoulder to step out, left in just your boots and thigh high stockings. He rubs his hands along the material, squeezing, appreciating the flesh beneath. His brown irises are left to a simple ring, a murky abyss shadowing his sclera.

His does that thing with his mouth, the one that causes you to fold like a lawn chair. And then he’s speaking to you, using two fingers to noisily part your cunt. “You can even take my tongue captive inside of you, empress.”

Your hands drop, fisting into his curls immediately, as he wastes to time to give you one solid lick, gathering what he has to circle your opening, his tongue’s tip then pushing into you. He’s whining in little grunts, vibrating between your legs, in absolutely heaven on earth. You begin to ride over his face, hand in his curls, unrelenting, one finding your nipple to play with. You’re doing exactly as he’d hoped — watching yourself receive his worship. And this is something he will never let you forget.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 3

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2

Chrissy Cunningham just slipped a note into someone’s locker. Robin doesn’t know whose, but it’s not Steve Harrington’s. She knows, because she’s had the absolute blessing of having him as her locker neighbor all year. And based on how often she’s seen Chrissy loitering in front of it with him, the gossip mill is right about their budding relationship.

Except Chrissy just slipped a note into someone else’s locker.

Robin watches her walk away, stomach curdling at Harrington’s name branded on her back. He might as well have raised a leg and pissed on her.

The hallway is largely vacant, everyone in their last periods of the day. Robin had been on her way to Pre-Calc after a quick stop at the restroom, but she’s scrapping that idea now: there’s a mystery afoot.

Robin hunches over the drinking fountain at the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. She pushes the button but makes sure her mouth is well out of the stream of contaminated water. She’s not willing to risk botulism, not even for Chrissy.

The footsteps walk by without a pause, so she stands up, wiping the bit of splash-backed water off her cheek as she waits. After a few more false starts, and the clock ticking down to the end of the day, she’s almost ready to give it up as a bad job.

But then someone else starts stomping down the hall. She watches out of the corner of her eye, once again bent over the fountain, as Eddie Munson spins the dial on the locker and pulls it open. He immediately plucks an envelope out, pulls the tab open, and retrieves a pale-blue piece of paper.

Robin’s thumb slips on the button for the water–the abrupt absence of sound must tip him off because he turns to her, a scowl already on his face as he asks, “what are you looking at?” as he clutches the note tightly to his chest.

It’s too late. She’d already seen him smile down at it, blushing and twirling one of his curls around his fingers.

It sinks into her stomach until she’s sick, a pit to nurture and grow in the acid of her intestines. She can almost feel them writhing as Eddie’s scowl deepens into a glare the longer her silence goes on.

“Nothing,” she says, averting her eyes to bend down and pretend to tie her shoe.

Eddie huffs, and she listens to him stomp down the hall, as something wet and embarrassing begins pooling in her eyes.

She spends the rest of class hiding in the bathroom trying to get her shit together by brute force.

It doesn’t work; it never does.

***

After the random band girl had creeped on him in the halls, Eddie stuffed the letter into the pocket of his vest, half-read. The anticipation builds through the rest of the period and all the way home.

In the comfort of his bedroom he reopens the envelope and peers inside, giddy at the thought of reading the rest of the letter, this time a response to his own words. 

Should he light a candle? Dim the lights? Eddie hasn’t seen a romance movie in a long time, but this feels like the sort of moment to recreate a scene from one. He’s getting love letters. Plural. Him. Eddie of the Munson doctrine.

He doesn’t even own any candles.

       Eddie – 

       I’m not trying to bully you. I do actually really like you, and I wish I was brave enough to tell you. Brave like you. It doesn’t seem like you’re afraid of anything.

       It’s ok if you don’t know how to respond, I’m just glad you did at all. I read it at least ten times and keep it in my nightstand drawer.

       Sorry, that might be too much.

       Yours, Always,

       Your Secret Admirer

       P.S. You’re always the best part of my day. I’m just glad I can read it at all. I’ve seen your penmanship, and I was a little worried. :)

Eddie brushes his fingers against the sign-off, the pen such a light touch that he can barely feel the grooves in the paper beneath that immaculate ink.

“Yours, always,” he says, quietly in the privacy of his bedroom.

But, he’s not alone in this shoebox, so Uncle Wayne’s voice calls a too-loud, “what?” from where he’s probably still in his recliner, camped out in the living room.

“Mind your business, old man!” Eddie calls back, already lost in the land of daydreams by the time Wayne’s laugh travels back through the door he’d forgotten to close.

Wayne’s always been a good secret keeper, but this one’s too big to share. It feels weighty somehow, like it’s an overfilled water-balloon and telling Wayne, or Jeff, or anyone might fill it up to bursting.

He doesn’t want to pop this fragile thing, not when he doesn’t even have a face or a name.

He wants to know what her name sounds like on his tongue, the way her mouth purses as she carefully writes each of these little words. He wants to know what her skin feels like beneath his careful fingers.

He wants.

But, a Munson’s a Munson, and they can’t always get what they want, so he presses his pen to the paper and settles for what he can have. Not a name, maybe. Not yet, but some questions still deserve an answer, right?

*** 

“I can’t believe we didn’t think of setting a drop-off location,” Steve says, biting his nails the way his mom has always hated. He spits the bit of nail out onto the floor. Chrissy gives him a disgusted look. “What? I’m nervous!”

Nose still wrinkled, Chrissy mutters, “that’s no excuse to be a pig,” barely loud enough for him to hear.

Steve stuffs his hands beneath his armpits, scowling down at the linoleum as they make the increasingly familiar trek to the library. Before the past couple weeks, Steve could count the number of times he’d been in here on one hand, and every single one of them was because of Nancy.

Now, it feels like he and Chrissy are always camping out at one of the tables, crouching over notepads and whispering even if the library’s empty. Steve might not be the smartest guy around, but he’s not stupid; if anyone finds out about this, he’ll be lucky to make it out of town before someone kills him.

“Calm down,” Chrissy says, holding the door open for him. He steps past her, hands still crossed over his chest in what’s starting to feel increasingly like a self-soothing hug.

Chrissy must think the same because she wraps her tiny arm around his waist and leads him toward a familiar bookshelf. “He probably left it in the same place as last time.”

The word “probably” isn’t bringing him much comfort, but Chrissy doesn’t give him any more time to catastrophize before she’s pulling that same useless encyclopedia off the shelf and flipping it open. And there, tucked cozily into its pages, is another note in Eddie’s scrawl.

Steve smiles down at it before remembering their location. “You didn’t even check for witnesses,” Steve hisses.

He peers over her shoulder, eying the lone student in the research section who’s bent over a heavy tome, paying them no mind. He snaps out of it when Chrissy slaps the letter against his chest before tucking it into the pocket of Steve’s varsity jacket. She’s taken to wearing it almost religiously, even as all the other cheerleaders tease her mercilessly for it.

“Calm down,” she says, already striding away, off toward their usual table as Steve rushes to catch up. “If anyone sees, they’ll just think I’m his secret admirer.”

Logically, he knows that. But some part of him feels like everyone will take one look at his face and just know. And no matter how hard he tries, it’s not a feeling that’s easy to shake.

“Thanks, Chris,” he mumbles, bumping their shoulders together. She stumbles from the unexpected weight, but before Steve can help steady her, she’s bumping back into him with a happy laugh.

No matter how this all goes down, he can’t regret it, not when it brought the revelation that is Chrissy Cunningham into his life.

Settled into their usual chairs squeezed tightly together, she opens the letter and slides it closer to him. Steve’s eyes devour each word as she sits idly by, waiting for his response.

         Secret Admirer,

         Oh, how your words wound me! My penmanship is immaculate, I’ll have you know. But it doesn’t seem fair that you know enough about me to recognize my handwriting, and I can’t say the same.

         I understand if you don’t want to tell me your name, but what do you like to do for fun? What’s your favorite color? What do you dream about?

         Can you give me anything? You call me brave but sending me these letters is the bravest thing I can think of, and every day I get one of your letters is the best day I’ve ever had.

         Sincerely,

         Eddie

         P.S. I hope I dream of you tonight.

Steve doesn’t realize he’s sighing wistfully down at the page until he catches Chrissy hiding a smile behind her hand. He smacks her in the arm with a quiet, “shut up,” but his ears are already burning.

“Can I see?” she asks, and all the fondness floods back into him.

“Course,” he says, pushing it across. He watches her face avidly, heartbeat ratcheting up as he watches a smile bloom across her face.

“He’s sweet,” she says, smiling dreamily down at the page for a moment before looking up at him with waggling eyebrows he couldn’t have imagined seeing on her face even a week ago. “He wants to dream of you.”

Her voice warbles teasingly, and the warmth on his ears starts creeping onto his cheeks and down his neck. Unable to help himself, Steve shoves her arm again. “Shut up!”

All she does is laugh and latch onto him to keep herself upright.

“He wants to know you,” she says, still smiling, still teasing, but it’s okay when it’s her, not like Tommy’s cruel ribbing or Carol’s barbed words. “So, what do you want him to know?”

PART 4

[muxshwriting]

almost (sweet music)

Bradley Bradshaw x reader

summary: a summer where you and Bradley remind Maverick of Goose and Carole || warnings: literally one swear word, mentions of pregnancy, childbirth (mentioned) || word count: 793 || masterlist

You had Bradley had met at the Hard Deck and hit it off instantly. You were charmed by his carefree attitude and charisma, and he was charmed by your kindness and your heart. Both of you had found the perfect person to spend the rest of their lives with, to be yourselves with. Bradley had never been more sure about anything in his life when he thought about marrying you. Your family loved him and, in turn, the squadron and especially Maverick, loved you.

Maverick viewed Bradley like a son, and was very particular about the girl that had captured his heart. However, the second he saw you, he was pulled in my your very soul, the pureness that was simply you. Bradley was lucky to find someone so well matched for him. There was something else, though. There were moments where Maverick would glance over to you and Bradley and see Goose and Carole staring back at him.

It began the night you and Bradley got engaged and went out to the Hard Deck to celebrate. As all good nights at the Hard Deck do, it ended with Bradley at the piano. Despite being at least eight beers in, he was rather coherent and playing a recognisable tune. Patrons and other people all joined in on the fun, crowding around the piano. You, smiling unabashedly at your man, were standing directly next to Bradley, leaning against the piano, glass in hand as you sang to whatever he was playing. Bradley had reached up, pulling you closer and down onto his lap. He kissed you passionately, laughing with you as he continued to play, choosing to stare lovingly at you instead of what notes he was hitting.

★--~-~--★

Then came your wedding, a beautifully private affair with a few friends and family members from both sides. Your vows were perfect, encapsulating your love for Bradley in a few short words. “Bradley, there are no words to fully describe how I feel about you but I will say this: I’ve never felt as much comfort as I have whenever I hear your name. It’s so bizarre to have a word that can make you feel so much in a second, and I wouldn’t trade that for the world. I love you.”

Maverick was thrown backwards to Goose, drunk on his bachelors night out, leaning against Maverick and rambling about his soon-to-be wife. “She’s like the wind beneath my wings. It’s so weird that her name makes everything feel alright whenever I hear it. God Mav, she’s perfect.”

★--~-~--★

Maverick will never forget the day that Rooster came to him with the amazing news that he would become a Great Uncle. Or a great, Great Uncle as he reminded Bradley. He had had a few beers in the back garden, talking about everything and nothing going on with life. “Gods Maverick, I’m gonna be a dad. That sounds terrifying, a good kind of terrifying but still terrifying.”

Goose had come onto base, a giddy grin plastered onto his face. “Carole’s pregnant. We’re gonna have our own little bird in the nest.” His eyes widened as he sighed. “A kid Mav, a whole entire human. That’s crazy.” He had hugged Goose, giving him his congratulations for him and Carole, wishing them the best for the future. Goose had stayed ecstatic for a week after the news, nothing could bring his mood down. “I’m gonna be a dad!”

★--~-~--★

He had gotten the call from Rooster that you’d gone into labour and that his son had been born (his son!), inviting Maverick down to the hospital to meet his great nephew. He got to hold him in his arms, a newborn baby, so small and innocent. “What did you name him?”

Rooster had smiled proudly, “Nick Bradshaw.”

From the bed you had perked up, taking your baby back when Pete handed him over. “His full name, however, is Nick Mitchell Bradshaw. We had to fit you in somewhere.” Maverick couldn’t stop the tears from springing in his eyes as he tearfully embraced Bradley.

“I’m a dad!” Goose was whisper shouting through the phone to Pete, trying not to wake his sleeping wife. “Do you want to come meet him?” Maverick was there as soon as he could be, bring in flowers for Carole and patting Goose on the back. “Uncle Maverick, meet Bradley Bradshaw.” Goose was standing there, a shit-eating grin on his face as he wiggled his eyebrows and Maverick burst out laughing, unable to hold it in.

Carole swatted at both their arms, telling them to keep it down for the baby. “Don’t make me regret his middle name.”

“His middle name?” Maverick had asked.

Her expression softened as she glanced over at the baby. “Bradley Pete Bradshaw.”

[moonstruckme]

Thanks for being patient with me! This is edited on about four hours of sleep so apologies for any errors <3

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 ♡ 1.6k words

Water sizzles on the stove. You reach over to turn down the heat, your side heating from its proximity to the boiling water, before spinning back around to keep speed-chopping onion. This is a result of poor planning. 

It’s possible that some of your nerves could be reinterpreted as excitement. Giddiness, even. You’re finally—finally—doing something to try and repay all the kindness James shows you. You’ve felt like such a mooch, eating his cooking and stealing his time with his friends, but last week had been too much for you to take. He’d discovered the stomach bug you were weathering, and James had completely devoted the next two days of his life to making sure you were looked after. 

Your fever had gotten so out of hand he’d very nearly followed through on his favorite threat (going into your phone while you’re sleeping and phoning your mum), and though you’d done your best to downplay it at the time there are admittedly gaps in your memory wherein you think you were simply too out of it to know what was going on. It’s not a very comforting thought when you’re harboring a humiliating crush on your roommate; you may well have been just as talkative as James always is, you don’t know. At least he hasn’t said anything. 

He had, thankfully, managed to avoid catching it. You’re not sure how he managed what no one on your shift at work did, but you assume it has something to do with all that kale he eats. Which is why you’re doing your best to make the thank-you meal you’re making him as healthy as might suit his standards. 

You hear his key in the door, and a little frisson goes up your spine. 

“You’re early,” you accuse as he walks in. 

“Since when do you know when my training ends?” James asks. You sound like you’re sniping at one another, but as usual the joviality in his tone is unmissable. 

The sounds of his entrance are familiar, perhaps more ingrained in your mind than they ought to be. Keys jingling as he hangs them on the hook, shoes toed off and left by the mat, heavy footsteps headed for wherever you are in the apartment. 

When he finds you in the kitchen, you both speak at once. 

“What happened to your shoulder?” 

“You know how to cook?” 

“Hurt it at training,” James answers, shrugging with the shoulder that doesn’t have an ice pack held to it. He’s probably too nice for it to occur to him to withhold his answer until you’ve given yours, as had been your first thought. “What are you making?” 

“How did you hurt it?” Worry pries at your tone. Your hands have stilled on the cutting board. 

“We had a scrimmage, and I got shoulder-barged.” He gives you a smile, a shadow of the real thing, but gentler. Reassuring. “It’s not bad.” 

You frown. “I don’t know what that means.” 

“Didn’t expect you to, love.” 

“Why do you need to ice it if it’s not bad?” 

There’s a look in James’ eyes that’s wavering between smugness and softness. You balk at the sight of it. “I need to be a bit careful with it,” he hedges, “but it’ll be good by morning. Now, you’ve distracted me. Do you mean to tell me you’ve known how to cook this entire time?” 

“Yes,” you concede with a laugh. “I’ve always said I cook for myself when you’re not around.” 

“And here you are, doing it right before my eyes.” James leans on the counter with his good arm. He looks immensely entertained. “I’m honored.” 

“This isn’t just for me,” you say, looking down to resume chopping onion as your face warms slightly. “It’s for—” Another remonstrative hiss from the stove, and you whip around, moving the pot off the hot part entirely. You’re a bit relieved for the excuse to face away from him. “It’s for both of us. Also, I just want to provide a disclaimer right now that I never said I was good at cooking, only that I knew how.” 

James’ laugh rumbles behind you, just as you knew it would. He’s too easy. You can practically feel the force of his smile hitting your back, like the sunshine brought inside. 

“Here,” he says, taking a couple of steps toward you, “let me help.” 

“No!” You whirl again, stopping him before he can actually enter the kitchen. “No way. James, I’m trying to do something nice.” 

“And it is very nice,” he says, earnest. “It just seems like you could use a hand.” 

“I’ve got it,” you insist. Your hands are up to ward him off, but you put them at your sides when you realize how close they’re hovering to his chest. “It doesn't count as doing something for you if you do it yourself. Anyway, you’re incapacitated.” 

“I’m…” James looks confused, but then he glances down to his icing shoulder. “Oh, come on. I’m hardly immobilized.” 

“For all intents and purposes, you are.” You do your best to infuse your voice with conviction. You’ve found that’s usually the way with James. If you show any hesitation, he’ll turn on the charm and have you eating out of his hand before you know what’s happened. You herd him away from the kitchen. “Go sit down. Dinner will be ready soon.” 

You can’t help but be aware of him as you finish up, knowing he has to hear the sizzling when you accidentally spill things onto the stove or the one mumbled curse you’re not quick enough to bite back. All evidence that you’re not nearly as practiced a cook as James. You can practically feel his grin from a room over. Still, when it's done you’re fairly proud of yourself. 

James is beaming as he accepts his bowl. He hikes his knees up so you can pass between the couch and the coffee table, making a show of sniffing the steam rising from the food. 

“Is this risotto?” he asks, waiting for your little nod before his mouth drops open in astonishment. “You are so sneaky! I didn’t know you could cook at all, let alone fancy shit like this.” 

“It’s not that hard to make.” You look down at your fork as you raise it to your lips, blowing. 

“Sure it is! Loads of people have a hard time with it.” 

“Do you?” 

James grins, caught. You feel your own smile tugging at your lips as you take a bite.

He follows suit, forking a bit of the risotto and blowing to cool it before taking it in his mouth. His eyes dip closed, head lolling back, and he moans. 

“Oh my god, this is good. I’m never cooking again, now that I know you can do this.” 

You take another bite to avoid a response. You’re fairly sure the heat from your face could power the apartment for a month. 

James makes a few more over-the-top compliments of your culinary skills, which you deflect as best you can. As always, you eat mostly silently while he chatters, but when you look over your attention gets snagged on his shoulder. 

He’s only using the one hand to eat, bowl resting in his lap while you hold yours up closer to your face. His ice pack sits beside him now that he can’t hold it on anymore. You catch yourself gnawing on the inside of your lip. 

“Does it hurt?” you ask. 

James looks over, following your gaze. “Yeah,” he admits. “Nothing I’m not used to, though.” 

You feel your eyebrows pinch. “You get hurt often?” 

He smiles bemusedly. “It’s rugby, love. Getting a bit roughed up is part of the deal.” 

This doesn’t sit right with you. Though you hadn’t pondered it much before, you realize you’ve sort of been thinking of James, with his muscles and constant smiles and easygoing manner, as somewhat invincible. He seems like such a source of light in the world, it hadn’t occurred to you that anything bad could happen to him. You don’t like the idea of him being hurt. In any capacity. 

You realize this is likely playing out on your face when you notice James watching you. His eyes are soft. “As much as I would love to milk this for attention and maybe a sponge bath,” he says, setting his fork in his bowl, “it’s really not that bad. See?” 

He pulls down the sleeve of his shirt, and the effort to placate you is wasted. You take in a quiet, horrified gasp at the deeply colored bruise on James’ shoulder. One of your hands raises as if to touch it. It hovers in the space between you. 

“That’s not that bad?” you look at James in alarm. “It looks broken.” 

“It’s not,” he laughs. It’s a bit awkward, as close to self-conscious as you’ve ever seen him. “Trust me, I’ve had a couple broken bones in my time. It’s only bruised, and the muscle’s a bit strained.” 

The muscle, you’re noticing now, is quite substantial. Your focus is on the bruise, but the shoulder beneath it is eye-catching as well, hefty and taut-looking, presumably from the strain. That, or James is flexing. 

You raise your gaze quickly to his. Brown eyes tinged with smugness. 

“You’re worried about me.” His lips stretch into a grin. Not your favorite one in his arsenal. “Aw, sweetheart, I love you too.” 

You direct your attention back to your food, face hotter than hot. “I have justification for worry,” you say, the teasing tone you were going for undercut by the unintentional softness of your voice. “You’re voluntarily participating in a sport that seems like it’s trying to kill you.” 

James takes a self-satisfied bite of his risotto. “I don’t know, I was pretty worried when you fainted in my arms last week.” 

You side-eye him suspiciously. “I didn’t actually do that.” 

“Guess you’ll never know.” 

[freshxsturniolo]

JULY 4TH PT3 - chris sturniolo x reader

pt1 pt2

you pull up outside the triplets house later than evening, admittedly feeling a lot fresher than you had this morning. after your first initial texts with chris, you ended up falling asleep for another hour or so before being awoken by jake, who was begging you and tara to help him clean their apartment. you reluctantly got out of bed, but after a coffee (or two), you felt the movment had helped you come alive slightly, but in and out was still the only thing you wanted to eat after nibbling on a slice of toast all day.

keeping your date a secret however, you should have known was not going to happen. when you annoyed your departure from the three boys house finally, you were met by a load of stares. in their hungover states they were all planning on watching movies and order takeout, so you had no choice but to tell them.

"im meeting a friend" you had said when jake had given you an eye. you notice the smirk from your best friend tara as the words leave your mouth but you do your best to avoid eye contact, but a smirk comes over jakes face immediately.

"his name chris by any chance?" he says.

you eyes divert to tara immediately, and she holds her hands up in surrender. "dont look at me" she laughs, and you cant help but chuckle as you turn around to leave, knowing that tara would likely fill the 3 boys in, but as you leave you're only met with a chorus of claps and woops.

"so annoying" you mutter, which they hear as they all erupt into laughter.

you spend the next hour at your own place, panicking about what to wear. you're dying to text chris but the lack of communication since your earlier messages felt exciting, making you giddy almost. so you settle for a comfortable pair of shorts with a baggy tee, your favourite earrings and a small subtle amount of make up with some lip gloss. giving yourself a once over in the mirror, you smile before putting your converse on and head to your car.

so now you sit here, waiting for chris to emerge from his house, you lean across to look in the mirror and apply another layer of lipgloss just to keep yourself busy before you drum your fingers across your steering wheel, turning up the song you were playing through the bluetooth before you finally see him walking down the driveway.

you smile as you take in him in. sweatpants and a black tee, casual but somehow cool, hair so clearly freshly washed. his stubble from yesterday now gone. and he gives you a smirk as soon as he sees you looking, but you already feel so comfortable in his presence so smirk back, causing him to laugh and shake his head. when he finally gets to your passenger side and open the door, you bend your head to see it.

“your carriage awaits. in and out was it?”

he ignores you, gets in the car, shuts the door, and then finally swivels his head to look at you.

“you’re worse than matt. and i’ve been in the car 3 seconds”

you laugh, throwing your head back causing a chuckle to escape his lips.

“sorry” you say, looking towards him again. “i couldn’t resist. but seriously, in and out?”

“i’m starving” he mutters, and you nod in agreement with a smile on your face, putting the car back in drive and setting off down the street.

the nearest in and out is only a 5 minute drive away, and you spend those 5 minutes chatting about the night before. laughing about certain moments you had forgotten about till he has bought them up. by the time you pull up for food, your stomach hurts from laughing and your fear your mascara has likely leaked down your face. turning off the ignition, you lean to look into the rear view mirror to double check, and you become aware how dangerously close you are to chris. he’s quite as you wipe at your under eyes, and when you finally move back to your original position and turn to him, he’s smiling.

“you’re beautiful, ya know?”

“chris” you laugh, suddenly feeling flustered, your cheeks going a tinge of red.

he smiles as he looks at you, before looking out towards the restaurant. it’s busy, you notice. the line is long and there’s people sat on almost every table. even from sitting in your car and looking through the window you can hear the hustle and bustle, people likely in the same hungover state as you.

“i got an idea” chris says, and you snap your head back to look at him.

“go on?”

he looks back at the resturant one more time, before looking to you again.

“why don’t we get it to take out, and come back to mine? we can eat on the sofa, we can watch a movie …”

your hearts racing at the thought. truthfully, a night in sounded a lot better than sitting in a stuffy burger place and you tried to keep calm as you answered him.

“will you brothers mind?”

chris smiles. “they’re not in.”

you look at him for a second, his plump lips all of a sudden looking super inviting, but you smile.

“okay.”

“yeah?”

“yeah” you smile.

“perfect. come on” he says now, opening up the car door and stepping outside.

you follow his actions, grabbing your phone and keys and stepping outside, locking the car and putting all your belongings in your pocket before you walk around the car to meet chris who’s waiting for you on the sidewalk. when you reach him you smile, and you realise in that moment you had never formally even said hello, so you smirk.

���hi” you say, and his eyes divert straight to your lips.

“hi” he mutters, and that force is back. you can feel it, he can feel it, and then he finally takes a step towards you.

“this is possibly the least romantic place in the world, but can i kiss you?” he whispers, and you let out a laugh as you step closer to him too.

“you don’t even need to ask” you whisper back, and it takes him no time at all to press his lips to yours. soft, gentle, just a peck that lingers for a couple of seconds before he pulls away again. you can feel your heart beat racing as you look back into his eyes, before a laugh escapes you both.

suddenly, your appetite for food is completely gone and been replaced by something else.

TAGLIST : @spencerstits @chrissturnsss @slut4chriss @valkatriee @sturnsjtop @viiiwwwee @gwennysturniolo @melanch0lybby @sturnioloblues

[controld3vil]

sand walking?

pairing(s): dune 2 cast x actor!reader (platonic!!)

synopsis: requested by this ask!

⤷ alt: how to seduce someone walking on sand.

notes: there hasn't been confirmed for dune 3 yet but denise villeneuve has said he's writing for it to happen. ill patiently wait for the day it's confirmed :) ALSO there are fictional/made-up mentions of the novel for the sake of the reader. they're made to be gender-neutral!! and this includes platonic flirting between cast members. i MAY have gotten carried lmaoo

“I mean- what do you think of the character? Do you think they deserved more screen time?” The clip starts off with you comfortably conversing with the interviewer. To say you weren’t deflecting their curiosity. In actuality, you were eager to learn what others thought about your performance and take on the character. The only other interpretation had on-screen was from the classic 1984 film by David Lynch.

The clip that has been widely retweeted back is of a cute moment you had from the first film of Dune (2021). Before release, little was known about your character’s potential. Apart from the enthusiastic book lovers, film viewers were clueless about what role your character would play after the first movie.

Denise Villeneuve didn’t reveal much to you in person. He wanted to keep ideas confidential until he was 100% on board making the project come to life. Still, rumors sparked through speculation and interviews with the cast members of Dune. Including an infamous short, that you forgot about, of yourself boasting about your hopes and wishes for your character.

“Yes! How could we not!” On the opposite side, the interviewer exclaimed as they leaned forward from their chair, closing into your proximity. Their hands clenched, tightening their grip on the flash card, full of questions. “The movie left us on such a cliffhanger. I think everyone would want to know what happened to Nerre,”

“That’s for Denise to decide,” Nodding you gave a relaxed smile while lifting one leg over the other. Your shoulders relaxed, feeling content and ecstatic about their response. “I can’t confirm anything until he gives me the green light to say anything,”

“I’ve also talked to Timothée this morning,” A shift in gears as the journalist flipped over another flashcard. You two had just fussed about the finale and its dramatic cliffhanger. “And all he had to say were the sweetest things about you,” At the mention of your costar compliments, you felt your skin heat up. Your eyes soften, expressing only fondness for the lovely message. A soft awh escaped your breath. “He’s very sweet. Timothee's always been fun to be around.” A fervent chuckle from the interviewer sends them into a feverish excitement. “And- he said- you had great flirting skills!” It was then your face morphed into complete shock and giddiness . “Really?!” The camera pans up on your initial reaction, eyes popping out in surprise and a bubbling laugh slowly erupting. “I’m glad someone appreciates my talents!”

Without context, the short clip seemed harmless. Your sheer reaction to Timothee's comment emphasized the fun chemistry the two of you had on set. Mirroring much of Paul and Nerre's friendship, you both complimented each other well in the first film, being the youngest surrounded by well-renowned actors. But the reason for the recent spike of interest was partially from Dune: Part Two and their interviews.

Fast forward to the debut of Dune: Part Two, it made success at the box office. Even surpassing the first film altogether. The entire cast of Dune was proud of the work they've made. The introduction of new characters played by wonderful actors and actresses all around.

Weeks after the early IMAX screenings, press interviews were being published amongst of the young cast members. A particular interview by IGV Presents brings together Timothee Chalamet, Zendaya, Florence Pugh, Austin Butler, and yourself.

This would be considered to be one of your first interviews with the Dune cast after the box office release. You felt nervous yet overjoyed at the same time to be meeting your co-actors again after the conclusion of filming had taken place.

The spokesperson of IGV, Simon Harkness starts off the interview strong with a pleasant greeting. "Congratulations on an incredible movie. Uhm it is the definition of a sci-fi blockbuster and is absolutely phenomenal, so huge congratulations to you all!"

"Thank you!" The five of you all politely cherish his kind words.

"It's so lovely to talk to you. Um- Timothee, Zendaya, I'm going to start with you. This is probably the hardest question I've ever asked in an interview so you've been warned." An endearing giggle can be seen from Zendaya before allowing him to continue. "Sand walking, who does it better?"

Timothee immediately lifts up his microphone. "I'm going to give it to Zendaya here." Without glancing at her, you could tell Zendaya was happily smiling at his compliments. How quick he was to answer made it seem how well connected the cast was even given the amount of time spent together. The main lead continues very swiftly, diving more into how cinematic the shot was from an outside perspective, "I think it's the most- one of the most cinematic shots in the movie and she really has it very precisely down but it's the nature of the movie too that she's supposed to be better than Paul,"

"Is that what it is?" In return, Zendaya who sat next to him gave him a teasing look.

Quietly from afar where you sat, next to Austin Butler, you whispered. "He acted like he couldn't do it but," Soft snickering can be heard across the room.

"In fairness to me, I was going 65%- 65 to 70 too hard," Chalamet reasons justly as he glances in your direction before looking back to the interviewer.

"You dumbed it down," Harkness nods in a high-spirited manner. Right after, Timothee reluctantly agrees, keeping the mood light-hearted.

"I had to!"

"Just how committed you are!" Austin steps in, joining in on the joke.

"Zendaya, you can take that crown. I love that," The brown-haired man reassures as she recuperates with appreciative laughter. In truth, it was a beautiful scene between Paul and Chani you were lucky enough to witness behind the camera. And contrary to their light banter, you thought both actors did well at accomplishing what it was meant sand walk. Truthfully you had no scenes beyond walking through the desert but understanding the mechanics and traditions of the Fremen was as fascinating as it was watching it up close.

Suddenly it was Florence's turn to speak, "Zendaya taught me the other day and I had to just stop to stare at her feet."

"The swoopy swoop?" You asked in a cutesy tone, with furrowed eyebrows. You couldn't help but remember the few instances you witnessed your costars practice the sand walk to be one of the more adorable rehearsals you've seen on the sand.

"Yeah, her feet were so pretty! She was doing the swoopy swoops," The blonde acknowledges, waving her hands in a zig-zag pattern. As the replication of water and how her feet moved.

The interviewer's eyes light up, "Honestly I tried to swoopy swoop at home- um because we have a carpet in the bedroom."

"How did it go?" The mixed actress puts forward.

"Awful!" An assembly of bewilderment is seen between Zendaya and Florence as they quickly question why. However, they reassure him in the end that they would practice together in hopes of him archiving the sand walk.

Talks with simple questions went down the row. Florence discusses her experience from her beginnings, starring in Little Women, comparing those scenes in terms of royalty to Dune. In both films, she's worked with well-known actors and now Christopher Walken as the emperor and her father. She raves about how it was a dream come true. A dream she had when she was little. From this experience, Florence emphasizes the concept of learning and observing her fellow actors.

Another intriguing topic follows Austin for his experience between learning choreography fighting and Elvis's iconic rubber legs. In a sense, as you leaned forward on one of your seats, you became fascinated by the Elvis actor's comparison of it all. While Elvis's moves were televised and had to be precise for the camera, being a Harkonnens gave him more leverage in the freedom to move. It was a captivating question that you couldn't help but want to listen to more.

Comparisons aside, you didn't have much to note for your upcoming question. Which is exactly why you felt unprepared for what he was going to ask.

Harkness brings up your name for the finale. "You have done stunt work before. For the first and now second film, I've heard you compared it to rather- dancing. Is that what you think your relationship with the choreography has been?"

You gave a content hum, "You see it with the Fremen or Harkonnens right? Everyone moves so differently and for the course for me, I've had to adjust my choreo little by little. And I think that analogy you mentioned really does relate back to dancing. I don't know if it's because I was once a dancer or that I'm a visual learner," You shrug your shoulders, "But I see the choreography as a dance routine. You're moving alongside people, doing hits and jabs. Both are very hands-on so I would like to approach it as something I can always work on." Satisfied with your answer, you clapped your hands together.

"Kind of like sand walking no?" It was then that Zendaya swerved counterclockwise to face you.

Bringing back the conversation they had in the beginning about sand walking, your eyes instantly brighten. "Exactly like that!"

"I feel like you would be great at sand walking," Florence puffs, mindlessly shaking her microphone back and forth. "You- You already got the moves." Even Timothee came into agreement, humming and commenting you worked well with the choreography.

Austin Butler raises his microphone. "I think you gotta learn with me because I don't think I could,"

"Nonsense!" You give him a silly glare. "If you can do a killer rubber leg, I think you can sand walk." Florence and Zendaya both mumble their support and your male costar leans to have his arm around the back of your chair, warmly.

"Is that an open invitation I see?" The spokesperson, Harkness giggly pokes at than the rest of the cast turns to look at you. Your scowl morphs into an innocent one.

"Hm?" As you squint your eyes in hesitation.

"I feel like you could have the potential to sand walk but just with the right partner," Timothee chimes in, spreading his arms over his chair as well. Your brows furrowed accusingly, as if wanting to clarify what he meant by his comment.

And the French actor gives you a look, one you became so sure of. "Mm right!" A slight eruption of laughs before you straightened your back with proper posture. "With just the right partner,"

There were also hints mentioned in your interview with Timothee surprisingly not. This was one of the more recent ones to be published, as you finally were able to pair up with your favorite co-star (besides Brolin) from the first film. The two of you had strong chemistry despite having less screen time together in the second film.

The beginning of the video cuts to a clip of you answering an innocent question. "What I think about every day, is Timothee going to send to me a meme today? Uh, I hope so!" You give a sarcastic look to your seat partner as he latently laughs in front of you. "Or when is he going to text me you know?"

It then transitions to an interviewer from Heart commercial radio as he shouts out your names. "How are you both?"

"I'm doing good!"

"Going great!"

The radio show was more relaxed than you would've expected as the spokesperson was very down to the earth with his conversation starters and contagious warmth. Timothee was able to catch up with him from his last interview when he premiered his Wonka film. Eventually, the interview became more casual discussing working together, cooking, and trendy topics.

Timothee and you both went back and forth on favorite memories you had of the first film. And talking about the new cast members and new elements it had brought to the table for the film itself.

"Cool new characters this time," As you played around with the fuzzy microphone the camera crew gave to you.

"Yup lots of new people to meet," Timothee adds on, nodding.

The interviewer proceeds with the question, "And also you have seen- there's a clip about of you running around actually." He signals to you, "Of your reaction to something Timothee said about your performance in the first film,"

"Oh! I've seen it," Almost instinctively, your co-star raises his hand. "I was supposed to send it to you but I forgot." As he turns, to finds you looking lost at the topic at hand.

"Really what was it?" You almost looked concerned, seeing how you didn't understand what they meant.

Luckily for you, the Heart radio spokesperson managed to get a hold of the video from his phone, "It was a little callback of Timothee raving about your flirting skills."

As it plays, the camera zooms in on you and your co-actors reaction. The French actor couldn't help but look slightly embarrassed but smitten when the timing of your reaction came on screen. While you held an intrigued stance, arms crossed and a content grin.

"I am pretty good at flirting,"

"You really are, huh." At the same time, you both turn to make eye contact.

"I also heard Tim- that you thought that they would be your love interest initially?" At the radio speaker's inquiry, you couldn't help but in mid-sentence, finally, swerve your head suddenly.

"Yeah well, fun fact actually," The male actor tries to reason, sitting up. "In the novels, Paul and Nerre almost did become a couple!"

It was a well-known fact of that in the first novel, there had been slight changes to the story. Initially, it was said that the author, Frank Herbert had planned for Paul and Nerre, the character you played to have a romantic connection after the fall of House Atreides. Nevertheless, it was later scrapped for another plot, that of instead having Chani as the love interest. But even decades later after the novel’s release, it was something fans still fuss about.

"Oh, I heard about that!" Almost in awe, you nodded, your attention fully on Chalamet, wondering how far he was willing to go beyond spoilers.

"Do you think Nerre would ever meet someone then?" The afro man questions, adjusting his microphone. "Since- Paul has Chani, I feel like if we ever get a potential third film, that could open some doors!"

"If a third film could happen," You start, fiddling with the lining of the mic cover, "I hope so! I mean I got the moves, I got the skills!"

"Keep practicing your sand walk and we'll see," Timothee cutely chimes as you proceed to blow a raspberry at him. Only for him to lightly swat you away.

Despite your failures to have scenes of sand walking, your cast of a crew were more than happy to show you. Javier Bardem and Jessica Ferguson were quite supportive in your interest for something you did not have any part-time. A few behind the scene videos show the actor demonstrating from afar the slower version of the walk.

Though your back was facing the camera, viewers would pick up and recognize it to be you. Jessica as well was off to the side, in her luminescent costume of a million robes, clapping from side to side.

Another later pans to you taking long strides across the sand in the background. In front of the camera are Josh Brolin and Javier having their turn in the video, to discuss their relationship and the previous they have worked on together. However, viewers couldn't help but pinpoint your figure alongside the frame trying to master the patterns of what Javier taught you from the previous clip.