#like what the fuck I thought this was what you were supposed to do

[mv1simp]

Slow Down♥️

Max Verstappen x Driver!Reader (SocialMedia!AU)

I’m so down if you’re ready, I’ll show you if you let me, girl (she said fuck me like I’m famous, I said okay)

You and Max Verstappen are very well known in the media, for having one of the most volatile rivalries in the sporting world. But Ferrari’s Princess and Redbull’s Mad Max send shockwaves through the paddock when your PR teams confirm you’re officially dating. The public have a hard time believing it…until your sex tape gets leaked on Twitter a month later. Social Media!AU

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, trying my hand at a SM! AU for the first time!!, dom! Max and switch! Reader, size kink, sexism, max being a feminist king

Everyone always said there was a thin line between love and hate. Frankly, you find it to be sexist bullshit, rolling your eyes everytime some interviewer or your friends or trainer would make some sly comment about so what’s going on between you and Max, with a suggestive wiggle of their eyebrows. Nothing, just him trying to run me off the track repeatedly and giving me 4 bruised ribs in Singapore when he clipped me illegally, you say with an annoyed tone. You know that if you were a man, and not the first female driver in decades in F1, you wouldn’t be getting randomly shippedwith all the drivers. And for gods sake, Verstappen off all people was the most laughable idea. The man was either being a violent menace on the track or an autistic twelve year old off it, you think vehemently. You two had stayed well out of each others way in your Haas seat last year, with you leading the mid pack in the suboptimal car but Max remaining well out of reach at the front of the pack. But this year, you’d earned yourself a Ferrari seat and were ecstatic to finally be able to compete for a WDC.

That was, until you and Max Verstappen suddenly started to keep getting caught in each others crosshairs. What started as polite indifference between two coworkers blew up into a PR frenzy, with you and Max completing for the top step in the podium every race weekend. He thought you a reckless driver, getting lucky in a rocket ship this year and trying to sink her claws into something she can’t handle. You thought him over arrogant, a man who couldn’t handle losing to a girl, his fragile ego unable to handle losing a 4th WDC to a Ferrari driver who was only in her second F1 season.

And then, two months out from the end of the season, everything changed between you and Max. On a night out in Monaco with your friends, celebrating being home from triple headers, you’d had the unfortunate experience of being cornered by some drunk, sexist creep who thought he was entitled to touch you. He’d been stronger than you expected, pinning you in a dark alleyway and you just when you starting to freak out, Max of all people practically threw the guy off you. He’d angrily spat at the drunk to pick on someone his own size or he’d break his jaw next time, before leading you to his car with a gentle hand. Normally, you found Max’s far larger frame to be annoying, another way for him to intimidate you when he glared downwards. But that night you couldn’t help but be grateful for the muscular, tall man and his attentive blue eyes as you willingly follow him with wide, doe eyes.

The ride home had been silent, you nervously clutching the large sleeves of the hoodie Max had given you from his backseat. And when you’d thanked him for his help, saying you appreciate him looking out for you even though he hated you, he looked at you with genuine surprise. I don’t hate you, he’d said. Well, I suppose we have had our differences on the track. You snickered at this, muttering that’s one way of putting it. Max chuckled, making you peer at him curiously as you’d never heard him do that in your presence. He was actually very handsome, you noted, without an angry scowl on his face or that Redbull helmet covering him. Then you tell your tipsy brain to shut up because where the hell had that thought suddenly come from?!

But really, I think you’re a pretty amazing girl off the track, Max continued. It must be hard being the only female driver, but you always have something good to say to the dumb interview questions you get. And I’m not going to stand by and let any woman be felt up by some creep. Even if it’s the Princess of Ferrari, he adds with a smirk. You rolled your eyes at this, stepping out of his car as you reach your apartment. And when you offer him his hoodie back, he tells you to keep it. You can use it to stay warm at the next race - it’s Brazil, very rainy. Did I mention I’m called the rainmaster, incidentally? You burst out laughing at his lack of subtlety, and he smiles at having distracted you, making the scared look in your pretty doe eyes from earlier disappear. Fuck off, Verstappen, you giggle, and for once your words have no real bite.

By the time your second F1 season is over, and you’re receiving your trophy for the world championship at the Prizegiving Gala, the first female to do so, you and Max Verstappen have became good friends. Maybe something more, from all the time you’ve started spending together off the track gaming, playing padel, and going out drinking. You were far too afraid to ever say something to him, knowing the media response to the first female driver dating a fellow driver would be absolutely brutal. Besides, you had no idea if Max remotely felt the same way about you - his type seemed to be pretty models, not aggressive drivers who spent half her time plotting his downfall.

You’re surprised when he finds you at the after party, late into the night, where everyone is too plastered to note that the fallen Redbull champion is taking the winning Ferrari Princess to a private level on the yacht. If you think I’m going to apologise for breaking your winning streak, you can try again, you announce dramatically as you grin at him, 5 drinks in and pink lips loosened, letting him know you were jesting. Wouldn’t have it any other way, Princess, Max hums, coming to stand so close to you that your heart rate quickens when you feel warmth radiating from the taller, muscular driver. Besides, I’ll be taking the cup next year, anyways. Enjoy the high while you can, he says in his Dutch accent, all cocky.

You let out an outraged gasp at this, forgetting how close you two already are as you step towards him, accusing hand pressed against his firm chest. But before you can say anything, Max’s gorgeous blue eyes drop down to where your manicured nails are touching his pecs. And then he looks down further, to where your plush tits have pressed up against his abs, your cute red corset minidress pushing your cleavage up temptingly. There’s no mistaking the dark desire that swirls in his intense gaze as he looks back into your wide doe eyes. And then he’s leaning in, finally, you think, and then your brain wakes up and you remember who’s in front of you. We can’t, Max, you say breathlessly, dazed by how attractive he looks when turned on. Why not, the Dutchman demands, cocky as usual. You don’t want this, Princess? His large hand brushed your jaw, tilting your face upwards when you try to look away. Your breath hitched from the contact, and you’re sure he can feel how fast your carotid pulse is beating. It’s-it’s not that I don’t want to, you say with a blush, making a pleased smirk appear on Max’s lips. But I’m the only female driver on the grid, the public would tear me apart if they found out I hooked up with another driver on the grid-

Fuck what anyone else thinks, Max says passionately, the familiar spark of defiance in his eyes. I know the fallout from something like this would be much harder for you as a woman than me, and I waited till after the championship fight finished. No one can contest you didn’t win the cup with your own sheer skill. But now that it’s finished, I can’t hold back anymore. Your jaw drops from Max’s heated confession, never having guessed the handsome blonde would reciprocate your buried romantic feelings. And I don’t mean some one night stand or summer fling, he continued boldly. I want to be your boyfriend, I want you all to myself properly.

You must have had too many G&Ts, you hear yourself say distantly, cause you’re not even a little bit cute and shy like you normally are off the track, Verstappen. He smiles gently, knowing you were using humour to deflect from the swirling emotions within you. Maybe, he murmurs, bending down to rest his forehead against yours. Or maybe you look so fucking gorgeous in this red dress I knew I couldn’t hide how I feel anymore. When he feels your hand graze his chest, pulling him just a bit closer, he knows what you want. Pressing the gentlest of kisses to your glosses lips, he pulls back to make sure you still wanted more.

But he didn’t need to have any doubts, because you’re staring up at him sultrily, desire having darkened your own wide, doe eyes. This time you’re pulling him back onto your lips, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders so that there’s not even a millimetre of space between you too. He groans into your mouth as the months of tension come to a head, the two of you languidly exploring each others mouth with tongues.

Even if you’d woken up the next morning regretting your decision, there was no way you could turn down Max’s offer of a relationship. Because even if you had still hated him, the sex that night on the yacht has been so incredibly mind blowing, by far the best orgasm you had ever experienced, that you knew you’d never meet anyone who could fuck you so perfectly again. So you hesitantly said yes, let’s try this for real, Max over a late hungover brunch the next morning. The rest had been history - the two of you had spent the last 7 months in a secret relationship, not wanting the chaos of the media to ruin your relationship before it could even start properly. Max has proven time and time again you’d made the right decision saying yes, being the perfect boyfriend, dedicated to all your needs and wants, spoiling you endlessly and making you laugh whenever you had a bad day.

Sometimes things were hard, of course. Like when you two had tensions during a race, your private relationship doing nothing to dampen the competitive spirit you both shared. But you’d both make up after, whether it be with a long debrief and strategy talk on how to avoid an incident next time - or your personal favourite, some angry make up sex. Like you’d suspected, Max was an absolute sex god and you two enjoyed a very healthy sex life, exploring each others kinky preferences. So when you’d have to be away from each other for long periods, busy with planning and meetings at your separate team bases, your boyfriend came up with a solution once the nudes and phone sex didn’t quite hit the same.

Filming yourselves during sex seemed like a certain recipe for disaster, given how famous the two of you are and the consequences of anything got leaked. But the temptation was too great as weeks drag on without the touch of your boyfriend - so you agreed, just this once, to try it out.

Well, that had certainly been the plan. But the video had been so so nice to watch again and again anytime your pussy ached for Max that you can’t resist making more. And then last month when your teams had finally given the okay for an official announcement on your relationship, and the media response had overall been surprisingly positive, you two get too comfortable and Max accidentally sent the video over DM to you, instead of the encrypted chat you normally use.

And that was when shit hit the fan.

No, Max, go away, I don’t want to see you, I don’t want to see anyone ever again! The blonde Dutchman sighs he leans his head against the closed bathroom door with a worried expression on his face. You’ve locked yourself in his Monaco penthouse’s bathroom for the past 4 hours, not coming out despite how much he’s pleaded. Please, schatje, he tries again. I know it’s bad, but we’ll get through it together. Twitter’s already banned any links of the video and both our PR teams are doing damage control and so many of the grid drivers and journalists were calling out the website that had leaked the tape. Please, I just want to see you, you can’t be locked in there forever and reading all the stuff online alone.

When you don’t reply, only sniffling through the door, he sighs again and slides down the door, making himself comfortable. A few minutes later he hears the door unlock and your red, crying face peeking through. Oh, schatje, he croons soothingly as you drop down into his arms and bury your face in his thick neck. He rubs soothing circles along your back as you sniffle that Everyone’s saying such horrible things, Maxie. How am I going to face going on the paddock ever again?

He reassures you firmly that you two would go hand in hand, united on the paddock with your heads held high, because you’ve done nothing wrong. He’d been doing the media game a lot longer than you and knew this scandal, like everything else, would get blown over with time. After your quiet sobs settle with his comforting words and tight hug, you pull back to look at him and apologise for shutting yourself away and not checking in on him. It’s your leaked tape too, you say anxiously. How are you feeling about it, baby?

He eases your concern again, telling you honestly that in the grand scheme of things, although it was a little mortifying he’s had worse in the media. Besides, it’s gonna be satisfying to crush whichever little fucker leaked the vid, he says vehemently. Any anyone who’s saying any bullshit sexist comments about you sleeping your way into F1 or anything is getting hit with a defamation lawsuit from legal, he declares, making your heart swell from his protectiveness. You still aren’t convinced, though. Are you sure, Max? I remember in that particular video, you can’t see much of my body but there’s definitely a lot of shots of your…

Dick? Your boyfriend finishes with a deadpan expression, That’s fine. Besides, I’ve nothing to be embarrassed about. You know the hashtag Verstappen’s third leg is trending on Twitter now? You giggle at his nonchalance, making Max smile at seeing you cheered up. You’ve finally having processed what happened enough to maybe see a bit of humour in it. True, I suppose it could have been worse, you muse. The Las Vegas video could have been the leaked one. Imagine how batshit the fans would have gotten if they saw the handcuffs were for you, not me. Max laughs genuinely, blue eyes looking fondly at your mischievous expression. The familiar Ferrari fire he adored was back in your own pretty doe eyes.

Or worse, the Barcelona one, you tease as you lead him to the kitchen to start making dinner. Scrolling through hundreds of posts and spiralling was calorie consuming work. I think Twitter would have shut down if they found out Max Verstappen likes being called daddy in the bedroom.

Your boyfriend’s face goes adorably pink as he stammers at your unexpected roast. Hey-hey now, schat, that was just one time okay? You’d just accidentally said it and it caught me off guard-

You grin playfully, giving him a kiss on the cheek because he looked too cute to resist. Sure, baby, so off guard you lasted 5 seconds after that. His face goes even pinker, reaching the tips of his ears now as he shyly looks away. For all his fierceness on the track, you loved how sweet the Dutch Lion was off it. Giggling, you put him out of his misery by handing him a knife and tell him to get to work chopping the tomatoes. You knew no matter what came your way, you would be fine with Max by your side.

—————————————————————————

A/N: okkk so what did u guys think at my first attempt at a social media AU ahaha. You know I love to yap I fear I included too many Twitter screenshots, I ALWAYS GET CARRIED AWAY. Anyway this was super fun pulled me right out of my writers block!!! Hope u enjoy xx

[machveil]

I can't resist the siren call

Roommate!Simon Riley that low-key enjoys fucking with your friends Y/N

subtle foreshadowing… I suppose I can dip into my nsfw Roommate!Simon Riley thoughts

Roommate!Simon Riley who shares a laundry bin with you, it had been agreed a long time ago that just doing a big load would be easier. you takes turns, knowingly stealing each other’s clothes every couple days when the laundry is fresh out the machine. you know Simon took an oversized t-shirt you owned, but that’s okay, you took his favorite gym hoodie

Roommate!Simon Riley who doesn’t get embarrassed about his underwear being in the bin with yours, it’s all going in the machine anyways. that doesn’t stop him from raising an eyebrow though when his favorite boxers go missing. he was sure he put them in with the dirties, well, the cleans now. he figures the machine ate it, or maybe they’ll show up some day by chance - he shrugs it off and separates his clothes from yours, snagging one of your oversized sweaters to lounge in later

Roommate!Simon Riley who freezes when he sees you on the couch that night. eyes wide and jaw slack, he can’t bring himself to move. sat watching something on the tv - he can’t be bothered to acknowledge whats playing - he stares at you, wearing his boxers as shorts. “Hey, come watch this— I’ll catch you up since it just started. I’m not pausing it though so you better pay attention.”, your words are all in one ear and out the other. suddenly his legs are moving on their own, stopping in front of you. he doesn’t register what you’re saying, telling him to move because you can’t see the tv, but then he speaks

Roommate!Simon Riley whose voice is deliciously deep, a little raspy from how his throat suddenly feels dry, “S’that mine?”, he asks, eyeing his boxers. he’s never had such a hard time swallowing before, heartbeat erratic as you casually respond, “Huh— oh, yeah. They’re really comfy, the fabrics nice.”. fabrics nice, yeah, he knows. “You— ya know those are boxers, right love?”, he asks, hands twitchy as you reply, “Mhm, just borrowin’ them.”

CW: guilty wank, man is hopeless [kisses his cheek]

Roommate!Simon Riley who’s a mess after that interaction. you wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at him, but he’s losing it on the inside. he’s seen you be audacious with stealing his clothes before, taking his loose-fit tank tops that left little to the imagination on you, stealing clothes you knew he favored and parading around in them, but his boxers? that had him stalking back to his room, quick to turn on his heel before you could see his pants tent

he’s sweating, closes the door to his room a little harder than he meant to. god, he wants to go back out there and see you again, get an eyeful of how comfortable you looked - wearing his boxers like they were yours. you wouldn’t know, and he can’t help but think about it, but you had stolen his favorite pair. they’re plain, a simple black pair, something he bought at the store because he needed new underwear. but when you wear them? they suddenly looked different, makes his heart hammer against his chest. it feels like he walked out into the living room and you wearing lingerie, not something he got for fifteen pounds

he feels a little guilty, shoving his jeans down his thighs as he sits down on his bed. you’re home, sat in the living room just down the hall, and here’s Simon fishing his leaky cock out of his underwear. he really shouldn’t, he should sneak into the bathroom for a cold shower, think about war and blood and bullets to get his boner down. but he isn’t, he’s spitting into his palm and groaning, bringing his free hand up to cover his mouth - he’s never been good about keeping quiet. it’s not his fault you were out there wearing his clothes, you were the one that decided to look so— so cozy and content in your makeshift shorts. domestic

when that word settles at the forefront of his brain Simon’s hips jerk, you looked domestic, wanting to watch some show with him. his leg jolts slightly, hand moving to shallowly pump his weeping head. maybe your friends are right, Simon does take care of you - could bend you over and make you sob his name - he’s basically your boyfriend, often mistaken for your husband. his thighs tense when he imagines a ring on your finger— no, his dog tags hanging from your neck— god, holding you at night as an actual couple—

he’s choking out a moan, muffled and hoarse, as he coats his hand. eyes fluttering shut and breathing heavily, all his thoughts fly out the window as his cum drips down his fingers - all his thoughts except for one. he’s going to have to go back out there later to eat dinner with you, and oh, fuck, he sucks in a deep breath as he chubs up again

[alchemistc]

You never let me in, Buck sends, two of three sheets fully winded, and when he kicks his leg over the coffee table he nearly knocks over three empties.

They do this thing, right? Buck gets upset and before the tears can fall, because he's cried too many fucking times already, he makes himself angry. Picks at something that has come up every time he's done a post-mortem on the last six months.

And then he sends that shit to Tommy. Because - because who the fuck else is he supposed to talk to about it? The guy who'd sucked him off in the hallway of a nightclub two weeks ago? The woman who'd spent an hour quietly helping Buck understand that yeah, he was very much bi, and yeah, some people did not like that shit? Maddie, or Chim, or Hen or Eddie, who still might interact with him on the job? Bobby? Fuck, not Bobby.

Bobby who'd blinked at Buck and offered platitudes and apologized to Buck like it was somehow his fault Tommy was good people but he was the kind of good people who just walked out on something that could have been something.

I should have pushed more. I know I should have. I just thought since I was trying to share everything, you were too.

My mistake.

Three months and Buck isn't over it. He's far enough into the mourning process that he thinks this one is always gonna sting, and not for the reasons Tommy thinks.

That's not fair. I'm sorry.

The texts get delivered. Tommy reads them. Buck's had read receipts on since the first time Tommy went quiet on a call and Buck freaked out a little - but back then they were still working towards something. Back then, sometimes Tommy would pull out his phone and open the thread just to give Buck sign of life.

He was always doing that. Heading shit off at the pass.

Buck had just never realized he'd be able to do it to hurt him, just as well as take care of him.

Every four weeks like clockwork Buck gets a response. He has no fucking idea why it's four weeks, what the third Thursday of the month has to do with Tommy feeling gracious enough to give Buck some clarity. He'd never known enough about Tommy, is the thing he's coming around to. He'd done everything he could to bring Tommy in, make him a part, and Tommy had let him. Tommy had distracted him with quippy words and a clever tongue and with being so fucking willing to be integrated into Buck's life that Buck just - hadn't noticed.

No one will say it, but he Bucked It Up in the worst kind of way.

He's waited until Third Thursday to send these texts. He actually hasn't sent anything at all, until this moment, and he wonders if Tommy noticed. If he cared. Tommy picks and chooses from Buck's random thoughts, parses out details like he's reading from a manual and Buck is off topic two thirds of the time. Buck doesn't actually know why he's been answering, all this time. He wonders if, in the last four weeks of silence, he thought he was finally done with Buck.

He wonders if it had hurt.

Buck sets his phone down to stand, skating across to the kitchen in his socks for the pizza rolls in the oven.

His diet is shit. His body feels like crap. He's one more drunken nights sleep on the couch away from emptying the rack in his fridge down the drain and giving sobriety a try. The last person he'd slept with had hinted that they'd prefer not to use condoms and Buck had almost let them.

Buck has worth. He knows he does. It's just sometimes when he remembers that every person he's ever loved has either walked out on him or let him walk away when he needed them, he struggles to find that worth.

His life has meaning, and all that jazz.

Buck sort of wonders if Tommy hasn't finally blocked his number, as he tosses a too-hot pizza roll in his mouth and huffs on the lava cheese burning his tongue. After the last message Buck had sent, three weeks ago, he wouldn't exactly be surprised.

(This is basically just an unhinged grief journal with an unreliable second narrator. Do you know what it's like to realize you're still in love with someone who never let you know them?)

There's been no response to that. Fair. Buck hadn't even actually said the words. No, he'd jumped right into the sharing a life part, cart before the horse as always when emotions were high.

The pizza rolls get tipped onto a plate and are immediately swimming in the heavy pour of ranch he'd prepared after he set the oven to preheat.

It cools them off a lot quicker than popping a hole in each seam and waiting.

It's been eight years since Buck has really even thought about that little trick.

When he opens his phone there's no response. No receipt. Just stark words waiting to be acknowledged.

I gave you my family, Tommy. You didn't even introduce me to your team at Harbor.

It's startling to realize after the fact. He doubts Tommy had meant it that way, but he'd basically spent six months being love bombed only to have the rug ripped right out from under his feet.

And yet. Months later and he still wants to know. Know why. Know how he could have done it, with tears in his eyes, with full awareness that it was already gonna hurt. Know Tommy - anything he'd part with, really, that wasn't something every random acquaintance also knew.

Cool, he'd been jealous of what Buck and the 118 had. (Buck had tried to give him that. Or at least he thought he had.)

Great, he didn't talk to his dad and Gerrard was a shitty captain. (Buck had spent an hour once explaining the first time he and his dad had spoken about Daniel without screaming at each other. Tommy had listened to the rants about Gerrard and offered physical comfort and a 'sounds like him' and Buck had just been so relieved to have an ally amongst the 'life is just like this sometimes' crowd that he'd never examined that.)

He was a Kinsey six who'd been engaged to the first woman Buck had ever really loved and they'd never dug deeper than that.

And Buck had apparently interpreted some of the shit he'd said that night wrong, but he still doesn't think it's fucking fair that Tommy can't trust him to know his own fucking mind well enough to know he hates sleeping around and he'd found the sort of connection he was looking for. He'd found it. Even with the lack of reciprocation. Even with the quiet behind Tommy's eyes that he'd never let Buck in on. Even with the -

His phone buzzes on the coffee table.

Can we talk?

Buck kinda hates those words in that order now. They'd been the start of something twice, but they'd always been leading to an end, if Tommy had his way.

Once every four weeks, apparently, Buck sends back and takes a vicious bite.

His phone chimes with an incoming call.

Buck stares at the name he hasn't had the stomach to remove the little heart from. Lets it ring through to voicemail and then shoves three more pizza rolls into his mouth and doesn't care if they burn off his taste buds.

His phone rings again.

"What?"

"I'm outside your building. Didn't want to make any assumptions that I'd be welcome without asking first."

Buck can feel his ribs cracking under the lurch of angry laughter. "What the hell?"

"Well the parking around here is miserable again, so I figure that's a sign."

"Are you driving right now?"

"Hands off. I'm on Bluetooth. So. Should I circle the building a fifth time or call it now and go home?"

Buck gets stuck on fifth time.

There's no way he hadn't been driving since at least before Buck sent that first text.

Buck sighs. There's absolutely no reason to be hopeful about that. For all he knows, Tommy has just decided dousing any residual flames is just another thing he has to do in person.

"My Jeep's in the shop. I'll buzz you into the garage."

Tommy's silent for a long, long moment. The quip comes anyway. "I keep telling you that thing is a money pit."

"I'm not really feeling the flirty banter, right now, Tommy, so maybe just let me know when you're at the gate."

He does. He hangs up the phone twenty seconds later with a plain "See you soon."

Buck doesn't have time to change. Fix his hair. Hide the sheet pan with half a dozen pizza rolls still laying on it, because he'd cooked way too many again.

(He could absolutely do one of these things but if Tommy's gonna throw this at him, he's getting every little slovenly habit Bucks's picked up since he walked out that door.)

The knock comes while Buck's shoving the last two rolls on his plate into his mouth.

He's still chewing with his mouth open to blow out the steam when he swings the door open, and Buck feels the first inklings of pleasure ripple through him at the sight of Tommy.

He looks like shit.

"You look like shit."

Tommy's brow ticks up. He stares pointedly at the glob of not-cheese that's going to absolutely ruin this sweatshirt.

"That tends to happen when you spend an hour in an armchair two sizes too small picking at trauma you've been hiding from your therapist for six years."

Buck opens the door wider. Holy crap. Tommy might legitimately be more fucked up than Buck.

Tommy's smile is strained. "Can I come in?"

Buck holds his gaze. His eyes are a little red. He's got a red spot along the side of his neck, like he's been rubbing at it. Buck only recognizes it as a comforting motion because he's replayed him doing it half a million times right before he ended things.

"Depends. Is this the last time you respond to my mean, rude, asshole texts for an hour after therapy rubs you raw?" Third Thursday Therapy, is apparently what does it. Buck is - god. He just wants -

"God, I hope not," Tommy says, and Buck takes a step to the side to let Tommy in.

[scorpiosbite]

the first time drew saw actress!reader.

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 ────୨ৎ──── when drew was forced by madelyn to come watch this new show with her and the rest of the cast he didn’t expect to have his heart captured by the mesmerising woman on the screen.

𝜗𝜚 pairing: actress!reader x drew starkey

author’s note: this takes place in 2023 during the filming of obx 4 which is when game of thrones started airing in my timeline also actress!reader is anywhere between 19-22 years old.

drew was sprawled across the couch in his hotel room, aimlessly scrolling. after a long day of filming under the hot and heavy sun of morocco, he had no intention of doing anything that required effort. his plan was to simply scroll until his eyes got heavy and he knocked out, but knowing his insomnia that wouldn’t be until the early hours of the morning.

glancing at the time displayed on his phone ten pm it read, he let out a heavy sigh, though his body ached with exhaustion, his mind would not shut off. but before he could put down his phone and try to force himself to sleep, a knock sounded on the door “yeah?”

“drew! its maddie.”

“maddie?” he spoke softly, what’s she doing up at this time. usually she was asleep the moment she got back to the hotel. “come in, its open.”

she came tumbling through the door, coming to a stop in front of the couch where he laid. drew couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched her. “what’s up?”

“drew! you gotta come watch this new show with us!” her hands were placed on her hips as she looked down at him.

drew sighed, a noise of exhaustion. “i can’t be fucked getting up, cline.” her face scrunched up, ready to dispute him.

“drew you have to! the last episode of season one just came out and i watched the first episode when it aired and it was so good that i stopped watching so that we could binge it all when the season finished!”

recognition sparked on his face. “wait is this game of thrones? i remember you saying how good the first episode was, like two months ago.”

madelyn’s face grew excited at the fact that he remembered. “yeah! please please, you have to come watch it, jd, bailey, chase, laci, rudy and austin are already in my room waiting.”

drew mulled over the idea for a moment. either he could rot in his room until his call time tomorrow or hang out with his friends and possibly watch a good show, if maddie’s high praise was anything to go by.

“yeah, alright let’s go.” he stood up from the couch, stretching his arms and grabbing his phone to follow maddie, who was already halfway out the door, unable to wait any longer.

when they arrived at her room, the first episode was already lined up on the screen, the hbo logo blaring in the dark room. drew greeted everyone and then took a seat on the spare love seat by the window. “you guys get forced too?” he questioned.

“yup.” jd breathed out. “nah i’ve been wanting to watch this, i remember hearing about it when they started filming, it’s supposed to be like super graphic and vulgar.” madison commented. “shit, really? i know nothing about this show, other than the fact that cline can’t shut up about it.” austin added. chuckles sounded across the room, and madelyn yelled from the kitchen where the popcorn she was making turned in the microwave. “y’all are about to thank me!”

drew simply sat in silence, with the amount maddie was praising this show, his skepticism grew, no way this show was that good. someone pressed play as soon as madelyn was seated, he didn’t see who. the intro song of the show blasted through the room and drew settled back into his seat.

“yo, pass me the popcorn?” chase rolled up the back and chucked it across the room from where he was sat, drew caught it with ease.

he couldn’t lie, the show was good, fifteen minutes in and he was hooked. and just when he thought that it couldn’t get better, you came on the screen.

“holy fuck who is that?” jd’s voice rang out, but drew felt as though his voice came from somewhere far away. he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. “she’s beautiful right?” madelyn sighed out. mummers of agreement sounded from the people sitting in the room. “her name’s y/n y/l/n.”

“y/n” drew repeated to himself softly, almost as he was testing the feel of your name in his mouth. rolling the syllables on his tongue, in that moment he decided that no other word would ever compare to the way your name felt on his lips.

dressed in a flowing dress with daring cuts exposing your seemingly soft skin, he wondered what would it feel like if he ran his palms along the smooth expansion. your hair sliver, long and loose to play visenya targaryen, the last targaryen, the daughter of rhaegar targaryen and elia martell. drew felt as though no one had ever looked more stunning in the history of the world.

“drew? you all good man?” someone asked, he didn’t know who, he couldn’t hear or think of anything beyond you and the performance you were giving. “i think starkey’s got a crush.” rudy sang out, and the rest laughed. but drew couldn’t care less, too busy watching you.

they watched two more episodes and as the third episode came to an end drew finally broke out of his trance. while the rest occasionally made comments during the show drew could not tear himself away from the screen, afraid that if he looked away he would miss you.

“i gotta hand it to you, cline, i’m hooked. that shit was amazing!” carlacia grinned. “i fucking told you guys!” she retorted back. “but aside from that, starkey? what did you think?” she smirked at him.

“yeah, that was good.” drew’s body tingling “that’s it? just good? you don’t wanna talk about the moon eyes you were making every time visenya came on screen?” drew cheeks tinged pink. “yeah, she’s pretty.” “aye, shot your shot man, she’s so fine.” madison teased.

as drew made his way back to his room he looked at the time, two am, damn he didn’t even realise time had passed that quick. sliding into his bed after taking a quick shower, he couldn’t help himself but run a quick search of you on google. “fuck.” the soft curse slipping from his lips, just when he thought you couldn’t get hotter, he saw pictures of you, not in costume, naturally a brunette, he was so fucked. fuck it, he quickly searched up your name on instagram.

you were laying in bed scrolling through instagram when a notification popped up.

drewstarkey started following you. follow back?

first one, do you like it? if you do i’ll keep writing. reblogs and comments are welcome and appreciated.

[reallychaoticwoo]

Can you do an ATEEZ reaction to their girlfriend squirting on them for the first time?

⛓️ Yess! Lord help me cause honestly the thought of this has me absolutely feral! 🤤🫠⛓️

✨️ Do It Again ✨️

❤️Pairing: Ateez x reader

📌 Masterlist

⚠️Warnings: MDNI 18+ ONLY!! cussing, squirting (obvs), fingering, oral (f receiving), face riding, thigh riding, unprotected sex (wrap it up buttercup!), dom/sub dynamics, use of pet names (daddy, sir, babe, baby, darling, my love, etc) rough sex, clawing, overstimulation, slight bondage, I think that's it but lmk if I missed anything 🖤

‼️This is purely for entertainment purposes and does not represent the idol(s) in any way‼️

🖤Please support your authors by liking, reblogging, or even just leaving a comment! I love interacting with comments and reblogs they honestly make my day. As always, I hope you enjoy!🖤

HONGJOONG:

His fingers buried themselves deep inside you for the 4th time tonight as your release washed over you (and him). His eyes widened and his once concentrated face morphed into that of a predator. "Oh sweetheart, you didn't tell me you could do that." Something between fear and arousal circulated deep inside you as you awaited his next words. "Oh I am going to have so much fun seeing how many times I can make you squirt for me, my love. I hope you're ready." His final word spoken just as his fingers entered your overly sensitive cunt for a 5th time.

SEONGHWA:

Your legs trembled and your back arched as you screamed, your orgasm rushing through you like never before. He lifted his face from your core, his pupils blown, and his face glistening. He chuckled darkly as he snaked up your body to meet your lips."Darling, did you know you could do that and didn't tell me?" You shook your head frantically, "N..No! I didn't know I promise!" He hummed to himself as he thought over your words. "Well, you made quite the mess. I suppose I won't punish you for it... IF my sweet girl can squirt for me again before I cum." He swiftly snapped his hips forward burying himself to the hilt. "Starting now." He said as he reared back and thrust inside again.

YUNHO:

He was balls deep in your cunt, thrusting hard and deep. His tip kissing your cervix with each snap of his hips. Your slick walls clenched around him as your arms gave out and you fell face first into the mattress. "Fuccckk I didn't know you could do that baby." He practically growled as he began picking up speed, his own release threatening to snap. "One more baby, give me one more please, fuck that was so hot!" His voice closer than before as he bent forward to whisper in your ear. His hand placed on the back of your neck pushing you further into the bed as his thrusts grew frantic. A few thrusts later and your release sprayed all over as his own was pumping deep inside.

YEOSANG:

His eyes were blown out as you bounced yourself up and down, your warm tight walls clenching down on his length as you chased your orgasm. Your head fell back as you bottomed out, euphoria washing over your body. He held you hips and bucked up into you, elongating your release. "Shit... shit that was so sexy." You smiled down at him as you slowly started moving your hips again. "If you can get me to do it again before you cum, I'll wake you up to head for a week. How's that sound Sangie?" He thrust his hips up into you once before answering "Sounds like a challenge I am going to enjoy either way baby. You're on."

SAN:

Your back was up against the wall and your legs hanging over his arms as he thrust into you with such primal force. You clawed down his back as you let go, soaking the two of you in your essence. He glared down at where your bodies met and smirked with nothing but pure sin in his eyes. "Oh, oh you've fucked up babygirl. Gonna make you do that again and again. Gonna take this cock all fucking night right princess?" You gulped, already fucked out, and managed to mumble, "Yes sir. Gonna take what daddy gives me." He resumed his brutal pace without warning before whispering in your ear, "Good girl."

MINGI:

Your thighs were straddling his face as he blissfully lost himself in your cunt. Out of all the things he loved, you riding his face had to be in the top five. A particularly sharp suck on your clit sent you over the edge as you tried to keep from falling forward. He did not let up as you squirted all over his face, his tongue hungrily begging for more as it lapped at your folds. Once you caught your breath you sat back on his chest. "Shit, oh my god are you okay Min?? I didn't know that was gonna happen!" He just smiled still drunk of your pussy before he answered, "Drown me again please, pretty please baby!" He didn't even wait for a reply before he grabbed your hips and moved you back to his face.

WOOYOUNG:

The thing about you and Woo that works so well is that you're both bratty as fuck. Although you both liked to test the limits, Woo almost always ended up on top and in charge. Tonight was no different. You laid back against the bed, hands tied to the headboard, your legs spread apart by a spreader bar, and Woo between your thighs with a magic wand grinning manically. You were so overly sensitive from the hour he'd been edging you that tears streamed down your face as you begged him to let you cum. And the second he said "Cum for me sweetie" your orgasm washed over you like a hurricane threatening to destroy your very existence. As you slowly came back to, your vision finally returning, you looked to Woo. His cheshire smirk only grew as he met your eyes before practically growling, "Do it again."

JONGHO:

You were feeling especially needy tonight. Rubbing yourself on his thigh as he tried to relax from a long day. "That's it baby bear, doesn't that feel good?" He asked as his hands moved in tandem with your hips adding some much needed pressure. "Y-yes..ssoo good.. gonna cum soon.." You moaned as you began to pick up your pace. You buried your face in his neck, needy whines escaping your lips as you slowly reached your climax. His hands moving your hips for you, slowly dragging you back and forth as your rode out your high. "Sweet baby bear, did you just squirt on my thigh?" You mumbled something incoherent. "Lay down baby. We're gonna go again until you do that on my dick, understand?" You nodded, chest still heaving as you laid back for him. "Yes please sir."

‼️TAG LISTS FOR GENERAL ATEEZ CONTENT ARE OPEN! I do also have tag lists for individual members if you like to be added to that.

[itneverendshere]

Hii i love the bitchy!pogue!reader series and i would love to know how they first hooked up again, like what led them to keep going after their first night together. That's all, thx in a advance if you do it, i love your writing

the way i ran to write this lmao, thank you for the request ❤️ let's just say it wasn't planned at alll....it was fate👀

in spite of myself - drabble

pairing: bitchy!pogue!reader x rafe

you swore the first time was the last.

you were simply… curious. you wanted to figure out just how far you could push his buttons without him taking it out on you.

you got your answer. you went to that party with the sole intent of pissing him off, but you hadn’t planned on ending up in his bed—not that you’d ever complain. but that was it.

you’d gotten your taste, of course you weren't expecting to run into him so...soon.

you’d learned to play along for these little trips into kookland. your cheap dress, bought solely to get you through the gates, hugged you a little too close—but that was the point, wasn’t it? you made a show of adjusting the neckline, scanning the room with that perfected boredom.

the moment you spotted him across the room, you nearly snorted, because of course he was here.

rafe, in all his buttoned-up glory. hair slicked back like he’d asked his barber for the "douchebag deluxe," wearing a shirt that probably cost as much as your entire car. he looked so at ease among his kind, you wanted to pat him on the head and give him a treat.

bingo.

he was pretending not to see you, standing there with some stuffy old kook in khakis so aggressively white they probably had a staff meeting dedicated to their upkeep.

but you could spot it: the clench in his jaw, his fingers twitching around his glass.

honestly, it was too easy. you’d barely taken a few steps in his direction, and his grip tightened like he was trying not to crush the glass just at the sight of you.

aww. you hadn’t come here for him, but the opportunity was irresistible, how could you say no to that face?

you took your time, internally giddy at how his stiff he looked the closer you got. you let out a soft, exaggerated sigh as you finally slid up next to him at the bar, taking your time, letting your eyes glide over his shoulders and back down to those broad, broad arms.

god, look at those arms, you thought.

this idiot must curl yachts for fun. absolutely absurd.

his gaze snapped to you, “what the hell are you doing here?” he gritted out, sending a delightful shiver down your spine.

poor thing, always so snappy.

you brought a hand to your chest, going for maximum innocence.

“who, me?” you blinked, leaning in with a soft, honey-dripping sigh. “just networking with the local elite. isn’t that what i’m supposed to do if i want to ‘rise above my station’?” you savored the horror flashing across his face.

rafe looked personally offended, like you’d just announced you were taking up golf, while you let your eyes drop to the line of his shoulders, lingering just a little too long on his chest before dropping.

slowly, slowly.

his face twisted like he was in pain, and he leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, protecting himself from the way you were very clearly undressing him with your eyes.

“cut that shit out,” he ground out, “i know what you’re doing.”

you raised an eyebrow, “doing what?” you shot him a wide-eyed, who, me? look, letting your gaze dip again. “i’m not doing anything.”

his face flushed as he hissed, “you’re doing it right now! act normal for once.”

he pulled away from you as if your pogue germs might rub off on him, but you’d seen that look on his face before.

“honestly, if you didn’t want attention cameron, maybe don’t wear that. kind of a slutty choice, don’t you think?”

his neck flushed deep red as he scowled. “excuse me?”

you shrugged, “just saying. last time, you had a lot to say about my outfit, didn’t you?”

“you’re fucking insane. leave me alone.”

you smirked, leaning closer, “oh, baby, i’ve already got what i wanted from you,” you purred. “unless, of course, you’re offering again?”

his jaw tensed, and he looked away as if even looking at you would ruin his day. but he was still here, wasn’t he?

“don’t flatter yourself. i’m done with you,” he muttered.

you shot him a wicked grin, “flatter myself?” you let out an exaggerated laugh, turning heads nearby. “i’m here on a date.”

rafe’s smirk dropped, and he cast a quick, possessive look around the room before moving his attention back to you.

“a date?” he repeated as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth.

you nodded as you pointed toward the back, where your “date”—some poor kook with a summer tan and daddy’s credit card—stood waiting near the hors d’oeuvres table, oblivious.

“did you think i came here just for you?” you tilted your head, letting the words sting. “i don’t do repeats, country club. got what i wanted, remember?”

he looked like he was about to set the place on fire, blue eyes narrowing as he glared at your so-called date. you could sense the gears turning in his head. god, this was just too easy.

“maybe you should run along, hmm?” you said, your voice light and mocking. “can’t imagine what your country club buddies would think, seeing you all worked up over a pogue.” you flashed him a dazzling smile before tossing a wink, then spun on your heel, leaving him there seething.

you could feel his stare burning into your back as you sashayed over to your “date.” this was way too fun.

lunch was mind-numbing, but free, so you were perfectly okay tolerating the “date”—or, as you preferred to call it, the idiot with a wallet—while he droned on about his family’s fleet of yachts or some bullshit about generational wealth. you nodded along, not listening as he bragged. as if you even gave a fuck.

when he finally paused to shove more overpriced pasta into his mouth, you decided you needed a break from the snooze-fest.

“excuse me, i’ll just pop to the ladies’ room,” you murmured, batting your lashes like the good, sweet little pogue he thought he’d bagged for the afternoon. as soon as you were clear of him, you rolled your eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck.

the second you got into the quiet of the bathroom, you let out a dramatic sigh of relief, shaking your head.

what a fucking bore.

you’d honestly rather be anywhere else—well, except maybe with rafe, since he’d probably drag you back to the ninth circle of pogue-hating hell.

as you were checking your lipstick in the mirror, the door swung open, and you didn’t even need to look up to know who it was.

“um, excuse you?” you snapped, eyebrows shooting up. “i know you have a thing for following me around, but the ladies’ room? have you lost your fuckin’ mind?”

rafe didn’t answer.

he stalked forward, looking pissed as he backed you up against the sink, boxing you in without so much as a second thought. there was something about the way his forearms flexed when he did that.

ridiculous, he most likely got pumped up just pouring a glass of water.

“what the hell do you think you’re doing here?” he growled, his voice dripping with disdain.

a laugh bubbled up before you could stop it. oh my god.

you clamped a hand over your mouth, but the sound came anyway, echoing off the fancy-ass tiles. “oh my god, what the actual fuck is wrong with you?”

he leaned in even closer. “you think this is funny?”

“funny?” you snorted, crossing your arms. “it’s hilarious. i’m here for lunch. you know, food? the stuff people eat? he offered, and i like free shit. it’s that simple.”

“you’re doing this just to piss me off,” he accused.

“oh, get over yourself,” you scoffed. “you think i’m obsessed with you or something? i wasn’t even thinking about you until you came barging in here like a lunatic.” you leaned back, giving him a brazen, challenging look. “can you move, by the way? i was enjoying the break.”

his nostrils flared, but you didn’t even care. if he wanted to lose his shit, fine—he was the one who walked in here. you stared him down, totally unfazed, holding his gaze until he broke it.

“careful,” you added, your voice mocking and low. “if i didn’t know better, i’d say you were jealous. because, i gotta be honest, you look like you’re about two seconds away from—”

“shut up,” he growled, his face inches from yours, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke. “you show up here, flaunting yourself like you don’t remember exactly how last week ended, like you weren’t begging me to—”

“oh please,” you interrupted, ignoring the pleasure that traveled up your spine. “let’s not rewrite history.”

his hand gripped your cheeks, blunt nails pressing in from either side as he pulled you close, capturing your jaw to hold you still. the pressure of the squeeze pulled your pouty lips together, forcing you to look up with wide eyes.

“stop talking."

you tried to smirk around his grip, feeling the bite of his fingers, but your words came out muffled.

“what’s wrong, country club? can’t handle a little conversation?”

“just can’t help yourself, can you?”

you could hardly nod, your eyes gleaming with defiance as you let out a small, mocking hum of agreement.

his hands slid down from your cheeks to cradle your jaw, fingers firm as his mouth pushed against yours. you giggled into the kiss, entirely too pleased with yourself as you tangled your fingers into his hair, pulling until he groaned.

“this is the last time,” his voice was ragged against your lips, but the words sounded half-hearted, he was trying to convince himself.

you smirked, pulling back just enough to catch your breath, tilting your head to test him, see if he’d let you go. instead, his hand was already sliding up your neck, his thumb tracing the line of your lips, holding you right there.

“you think you’re so clever, don’t you?” he whispered, breathless. “think you can just look at me like that, say whatever you want…”

“who says i can’t?” you purred, lips brushing against his as you taunted, “if you don't want this, maybe you should go.”

his grip tightened, a curse slipping past his pretty lips, streaked with the deep red of your lipstick, glossy with both your spit.

and fuck, did he look good like that—disheveled, unguarded, his face painted with your lipstick like a silent confession of just how far he’d let himself go with you despite his fucked morals.

rafe let out a shaky breath, his forehead resting against yours as he muttered, “last time, swear to god.”

[scoopsahoy]

alr i have kind of a wild request so ignore me if you dont wanna write it. you and eddie go to a house party thrown by steve (before they really knew each other) and you're dressed really provacatively. yall argue, he calls you a whore/slut, and you slap him and that awakens a new kink he didn't know he had, and yall fuck

ぺ  word count ⋰ 2.4k

✰  tw ⋰ none :)

❍  cw ⋰ possessive eddie, swearing, sex + fingering, handjob, face sitting, masturbation, oral (female receiving), top!reader, dirty talk

៚  a/n ⋰ i am ✨ovulating✨ at the moment so i'm a bit feral and horny rn, maybe this will quench that thirst

✐  masterlist

⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★

The second Eddie laid his eyes on you tonight, he felt rage bubble up in his chest. He wasn't a jealous guy by any means, but this... He couldn't help it. Seeing you in that short, tight dress with heels that accentuated your calves — your tits on full display, smushed together and jiggling with every step. It was too much for him to handle.

You wore the dress for him, knowing it would drive him up the wall with desire. But when you looked over at him, all you saw was angry jealousy. You were talking to Steve Harrington, who had a reputation of sleeping around at his parties.

You had zero intention of being the next notch on his belt, but you decided to play into Eddie's jealousy and make it worth your while.

He was protective of you. After all, you were the only girl in Hawkins who loved the Freak. And after finding you, he never intended on letting you go.

Just then, another guy with a reputation of being a bit of a man whore walked up and started a conversation with both of you. When you went to take another sip of the god-awful keg beer in your solo cup, you must've tipped it back too far and a few drops of it landed on your chest. You wiped them up, licking the beer off of your hand.

And you could've sworn you saw smoke blow out of both of Eddie's ears at this. This was the final straw, and he charged over to you, grabbing your bicep.

"Hey, babe," you said innocently.

"Can I talk to you? Alone?"

"Sure." You handed your cup to Steve. "Want the rest?"

Before he could respond, you were being dragged away by Eddie, who pulled you all the way upstairs to Steve's room (unintentionally) and shut the door behind you.

"What's up?" You kept the innocent tone.

"What's up? What's up? Seriously?"

"What? What's wrong, babe?"

"You know what's wrong."

"Enlighten me." You did know what was wrong. You knew completely. He let his jealousy get the better of him and couldn't handle the thought of other men lusting over you. He walked over to you, getting in your face.

In a low, deep voice, he said, "You show up to this party in that... dress. Showing every possible square inch of yourself."

"For you."

"No, no, no. Not for me. Not just for me."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Your tone was coy, fighting back a grin. "I think I'm actually dressed pretty modestly."

"Drop the act, Y/N." You rolled your eyes.

"What, I thought you liked public teasing."

"Yeah, when you're not surrounded by guys who would fuck the living daylights out of you."

"I think you're overestimating their abilities."

"You know both Steve and that other guy would fuck anything that moves, and you sit there, dripping beer on your tits and fake flirting with them."

"God, Eddie, I'm sorry. You normally go for this shit. How was I supposed to know it was any different?"

You turned to walk away from him.

"Because you're not usually dressed like a whore."

Without even a second to let that simmer, you were turning back around to face him, and your hand smacked him across the face so hard he froze, his head turned to the side.

You didn't even realize you were doing that before you could stop yourself. It was like instinct took over and you couldn't control yourself.

Neither of you moved for a few seconds. You were breathing heavily, both with rage and surprise.

He raised a hand to his cheek, flexing his jaw. His skin was red and hot, and the look in his eyes changed.

"Well, I guess... I probably deserved that."

"You think?"

Something out of the bottom corner of your vision caught your eye. You looked down to see a quickly growing tent in his pants.

"Eddie-"

"That was, uh... kinda hot."

"What?"

"I think... I liked that."

"What, getting slapped?"

He nodded. "It felt kind of good."

"You're joking."

A few seconds of silence passed before he grabbed your face and slammed your lips together. You immediately kissed back and he began backing you up towards the bed, dropping you down onto it.

"What's the word?" he asked, beckoning your safe word out of you.

"Zeppelin."

He smiled. "Good girl. Want me to fuck you on Harrington's bed, hm?"

"Yes," you moaned, his fingers wrapping lightly around your throat.

Without another word, he dropped to his knees on the floor, grabbing you by the thighs and yanking you towards him. Your ass was practically hanging off the bed, the only thing separating his mouth and your pussy being your underwear.

That didn't last long though, as they slid off your legs easily. He shoved them into his pocket, not intending to give them back for the night. The thought of you going commando at a party right after sex only made him harder, if that was even possible.

"What do you want?" he asked, his breath on your wet skin making you squirm.

"Eddie, please," you muttered, looking down at him.

"Uh-uh, you have to say it. 'Please' won't get you what you want."

"God, Eddie. I want your face buried in me."

"In where?"

"In my pussy. Please."

He didn't comply. He loved to tease you. Make you crumble under him. Instead of doing what you were asking for, he decided to finger you as slowly as humanly possible.

The initial touch was a bit of a relief, but his lack of speed could've made you cry.

"I don't think so."

"Ugh, please."

"I already told you, please isn't gonna get you anything. We're gonna try something new."

Admittedly, this is not where you'd prefer to branch out and try new things. But he moved you off the bed, instead taking your place laying down. He was on his back, his head on the pillow. He motioned for you to come over to him and mount him.

You complied, but he moved you up even further. You were straddling his face, looking down at him.

"What are you doing?" you asked.

Without answering you, he wrapped his arms around your hips from behind and pulled your body down, finally latching onto your clit with his mouth.

You gripped the headboard and gasped, immediate relief from the teasing making you feel warm.

"Fuck," you whispered, one hand reaching down to place itself on top of his. As you ground into his face, you couldn't help but feel like you were suffocating him. You tried to move backwards a little bit and give his nose more room, but his grip on you was strong, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

You reached behind you and cupped his crotch with your hand and he groaned into you. Your head was thrown back, your back arched and your hips desperately swaying into his tongue.

"Fuck, Eddie, I'm not gonna last much longer."

He tried his damndest to hold you still, but for some reason this position was much more intense than normal oral. So when you finally came — hard — you were glad there was music blasting outside.

You tried to cover your mouth with your hand, but he reached up and pulled it away, wanting to hear your whines and moans. Watching you from this angle was driving him insane. He'd never seen how much you really move when you cum, as you were normally on your back. But right now you could move freely, and you couldn't control yourself.

When he finally stopped his tongue, he scooched you down to sit in his lap. He sat up and wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close.

He kissed you roughly, smearing your lipgloss all over your faces.

"Baby," he whispered, looking up at you.

"Hm?"

"I want you to be on top tonight."

"But I'm never on top."

"I know. But I want you to be dominant this time."

"Eddie, I'm not dominant. You know that."

"When you slapped me... I liked it. I want you to do it again."

You furrowed your brows. "You... want me to hurt you?" He nodded. "That was in the heat of the moment. I don't think I could do it again if I tried."

"Then I want you to choke me, like I do to you." You gently placed your fingers around his neck, your fingertips pressing lightly. "Just like that. But harder." You squeezed the sides of his throat. His eyes lit up and he smiled. "There you go."

You also smiled a bit and pushed him down so he was laying on his back again. You crawled down between his legs, unbuckling his belt. Seeing you on top of him, undoing his clothes for him almost made him want to flip you over and fuck you as hard as he could. But the idea of you on top of him, fucking him, almost made him feel like he was going to combust.

Your hand around his girth broke him out of his imagination, a soft moan slipping out of his mouth.

"Y'know, the tables have turned a bit, here," you said seductively.

"Mhm."

"I'm used to you teasing me. But I don't usually get to do the teasing." You swiped your thumb over his swollen tip, which made him jump. "You like to go slow when you tease me. Painfully slow." You calmly and casually stroked him, keeping your speed at a minimum. "Now you get to see how it feels."

He was a puddle under you. Normally when you gave him handjobs, you would use both hands, as that's what it took to completely engulf him. But right now, you were only using one. And it was driving him insane. You could see his stomach muscles tensing, rippling at the lack of motion.

"Y/N, please."

"Ah-ah-ah. What was it you said to me earlier? 'Please' won't get you what you want." He chuckled at this, silently cursing himself for saying that. "You want me to fuck you?"

You weren't sure where you mustered up this confidence. Maybe it was seeing him writhing under you, you finally understood what it was like from his perspective.

Having someone whimpering and begging at your actions, pleading for more. Needing more from you.

"Yes."

"How bad?"

"So fucking bad."

You slowly licked a single stripe up from the base to the tip of his cock, making him thrust his hips gently.

You giggled to yourself, adjusting your position again so your hips were on top of his. His dick was pinned between his stomach and your wet pussy. You ground against it, sliding him through your folds.

His hands were on your thighs, his nails slightly digging into your skin.

"Tell me how much you want it," you whispered, reaching down and pushing his hair off his face.

"I need it so bad, baby."

"How bad?"

"So bad that if you don't fuck me right now I'm gonna flip you over and do it myself."

Without another word, you sunk down onto him, both of you sighing of relief. You threw your head back and got used to him inside of you, not used to having to make the next move.

You braced yourself on his abdomen, your hands pressing into his skin.

You got your rhythm down pretty quickly, figuring out how to maneuver your hips and not your whole body. And not long after, your hand found his throat, pressing against the sides.

His eyes rolled back into his head, the slight lack of oxygen at your control feeling ridiculously good. He couldn't believe he hadn't asked you to do this before.

He was beginning to give into the urge of thrusting, and when you noticed, you stopped your movements and stopped choking you.

"What happened?" he whined. That tone was an insane turn-on, how desperately, frantically he needed you.

"No moving," you commanded, which was something he would say to you when he would eat you out. "Keep your hips completely still or I stop."

"God, you're good at this."

You began moving again, and it didn't take long for him to get close. Normally he lasted for a while, but being dominated made him feel like he was going to bust after only about three minutes.

"Y/N, I'm getting close."

"Not yet."

"What?"

"No cumming yet. You have to wait."

The roles were reversed. He loved edging you, forcing you to hold off your orgasm until he said you could cum. And you understood why. Holding someone's orgasm in your hands, forbidding them to reach it until you allowed it was doing something to you.

"I can't- I can't wait," he choked, really squeezing your skin.

"Too bad, you have to." You reached down and began masturbating, getting yourself there so he could too. You squeezed his neck as you felt the familiar sensation building in your belly. "I'm getting close too, I'll tell you when."

He screwed his eyes shut tightly, throwing his head back. He looked heavenly in this position, putty in your hands. He was mumbling 'fuck, fuck, fuck' to himself, taking everything in him to hold his cum in.

"Eddie," you squealed. "Cum."

You'd never heard him scream when he came, but this ripped through him. He was incapable of being quiet like he normally was. His grunts and groans were animalistic and caveman-like. You'd never heard sounds like this come from him. Maybe it was the oxygen being cut off, or the position.

He couldn't resist thrusting his hips up as you came, which worked out perfectly because you could barely move as you trembled.

Tears fell down your cheeks and you moaned so loudly it hurt your throat.

When he stopped moving, you laid your chest against him, his cock still inside of you. You breathed in sync, neither of you opening your eyes. Eventually, he wrapped his hands around your back and held you close.

He planted a kiss to the top of your head and smirked.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Y/N. We should've done this forever ago."

"Yeah," was all you could muster.

It took you guys a moment to move, but when you finally did, you pulled your dress back down to cover your thighs.

"Can I have my underwear back?" you asked.

"I think I'll keep 'em. Make it a reminder not to flirt with other guys."

"But if I never teased you, this would've never happened."

He laughed. "Very true. Maybe I'll allow it sometimes."

[rikkiz]

Bsf! Riki + sleepover + alcohol 😈🙏🙏🙏

Drunk in Love - Nishimura Riki

What was supposed to be a simple sleepover ended up taking a turn when Riki took out some alcohol he'd brought for the two of you to have tonight.

"Want some?" He asked, holding up the bottle.

"Mhm." You nodded, eager for a good time.

What started as a simple sip from the both of you every once in a while turned into bigger chugs which turned into the two of you playing a little game of Truth or Dare.

The questions started off innocent but with the both of you being drunk and all, they didn't stay that way for long. In fact, Riki was the one who made the switch when he asked what kinks you had, which you shyly answered honestly.

"I'd never expect that from you." Riki honestly said, looking over at you as you both lie in his bed next to one another, lying on your sides.

"Why?" You questioned.

"Just never thought you'd be that naughty." Riki responded.

"Hey, I could be naughty!" You whined, your drunken self taking that as some sort of insult.

"Well, how would I know, hm?" Riki teases you.

"I can show you." You suggest, confidence only because you were drunk.

"Oh, really now?" Riki asked and you nodded. "Well, I'm waiting."

You hesitate as he sits up a bit and motions you over. He pulled you onto his lap so that you were straddling him and you could feel him hard against you as his hands rested on your hips.

"Why are you hard?" You question.

"How could I not be?" He retorted.

You just respond with a "Hhmp" before pulling at his pajama pants and he lifts his hips and so do you so that you can pull both his pajama pants and boxers down his legs a bit. Once you pull them down enough, his cock springs out angrily and you feel yourself growing excited.

"You going to ride me or?" Riki asked.

You looked back up at him, slapping his shoulder, "Hey, don't be so mean." You say.

"Thought you said you liked that." He pointed out.

You can't find any words because that was what you said. He then slides your skimpy shorts and panties to the side before guiding you down on him.

You hiss out in pleasure as you hold onto his shoulders. He takes control, something else you'd said you'd liked, his hands guiding the movements of your hips as he slides you up and down on him.

Suddenly, you feel his hand going to your neck before he's gently squeezing down on your throat, just enough to make you feel some pressure but not enough to actually choke you or anything. That was something else you said you liked and you made it pretty fucking clear that you liked that.

He also made sure to throw some mean comments in every once in a while, his hand moving from your throat to pinch at your nipples before moving back to your hips to guide you more when you were slowing and so forth.

It didn't take long for you to come undone nor did it take long for him to do the same, cumming deep inside you. He definitely wouldn't have done that if you were both sober, but, well, you weren't.

"You liked that?" He asked, making you look at him as you remained straddling his cock, though he already knew the answer.

"Mhm." You nodded as you looked up at him with a drunken, fucked-out expression.

"Course you did." That was all he said in response.

[luvyeni]

( drabble ) ̨ give me a chance ! ୨୧ 一 황현진 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ hyunjin is tired of you not giving him a chance  ヾ

bestfriend!hyunjin・ reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ mean dom hyune, unprotected sex, degradation ‎ wc ・ ‎0.8k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. can i rq mean dom hyune x his slutty best friend reader idk the plot but ... yeah smut 😃

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 i hope you like it <3 !!!

hyunjin supported everything you did; of course, as his best friend of many years, he supported all your doings. even if that meant listening to you go on and on about your latest fuck with a random dude in a bar — or the random man from tinder that you invited back to your home to fuck , or any of the random men you fuck weekly … yeah he listened to all of it — even if he dreamed of being one of the guys you fucked, maybe being the only guy you fucked.

“when i tell you he was big, hyunjin he was huge.” he sat barely listening to you talk as you laid on his bed , legs swinging off the side of his bed. “i feel like there’s a but to this?” he heard you sigh. “he couldn’t for the life of me make me cum.” you had no problem getting the guy; you just had trouble finding the right guy, a guy who get you there. “it’s like if you’re gonna have a big dick at least use it right, i thought all guys with big dicks knew to use them.”

maybe it was the slight buzz he had from the soju that was sitting on the nightstand; or maybe it was because your boobs we’re about to slip from your tank top, but it was like his mouth moved before his brain could even register what to say. “just because a guy has a big dick doesn’t mean he knows how to use it.” he said. “you’ve fucked about 10 guys with quote big dicks and none of them made you cum, i thought you would’ve figured it out already.”

“you’re saying that like you know someone with a big dick and can use it.” your tank top strap falling down your shoulders, you smirked. “oh i do.” he said, hand coming up to your shoulder strap — the tension in the room suddenly changing and his eyes darkening as he grabbed the strap. “but you’re too busy slutting yourself out to random dudes to notice.” he yanked down the strap, your boobs finally free from the shirt. “hyune!”

you tried to cover your bust, but he was quick to slap your hands away. “finally get to see those tits you love showing other dudes.” you should've pushed him away, you were his best friend, it was highly inappropriate. but as he pushed you back , climbing on top of you and you actually got a feel of his hard cock — you quickly forgot about that and allowed him to pull all your clothes off.

“giving your body to just anyone who looks your way.” he slapped your bare cunt. “not even looking my way once.” he growled, grabbing the base of his cock, stroking himself. “messy fucking pussy, you just get wet for any guy don’t you?” you moaned as he used the pad of his thumb rubbing little circles on your bud. “ju-just you.”

“just me?” he smirked, rubbing his cock up and down your slit. “you mean you weren’t even wet when you were fucking them?” he teased you by pushing his tip into your hole. “just left them use you as a cum dump?” he pushed the rest of his cock inside you. “fuck!” both of you moaned out. “fuck you’re tight , clearly they weren’t that big , your little pussy is quivering right now, struggling to take my fat cock.” he groaned , slowly moving his hips. “this is what a real big cock is supposed to feel like.”

you weren’t gonna lie, he definitely was the biggest yet, his cock was stretching you out. “s-so big.” he chuckled condescendingly. “i know.” he cursed as he pulled out. “im about to ruin this pussy for anyone else.” he slammed back inside forcing his cock all the way in. “fucking slut.” he hissed , moving his hips , pulling your shirt down letting your boobs bounce freely. “tired of listening to how you slut yourself out.” he groaned. “you wanna be a slut , gonna fuck you like one.”

his hand coming up to your throat, squeezing as his cock bullied your sweet spot. “fuck fuck fuck!” you screamed. “to-too much hyune.” he didn’t slow down though, his thrust were relentless. “take it slut.” he cursed. “if you can take all those random dudes' cocks you can take mine.”

you were a mess; tears streaming down your face, the way his hips snapped against yours, his hands slapping your clit. “you’re crying? my dick is making you go dumb?” babbling nonsense as you felt your orgasm approaching. “fuck your pussy is squeezing me, you gonna cum slut?” you nodded. “cum. cum all over my cock.” your legs shook as you came, but he didn’t stop. “im not done.” he groaned. “you came but i didn't and don’t plan on stopping anytime soon.”

“gonna use this pussy as my own personal cumdump.”

©️LUVYENI

[brokenmenswhore]

A part three to proposition please 🙏

holy SHIT you guys you’re all FIENDS

a proposition: exploration | poly!marauders

pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader (james, remus, and sirius, featuring alecto, dorcas, evan, lily, and mary)

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+)

a/n: i really hope this was worth the wait, thank you for your patience <3

if you’re willing, please check out this poll :)

a proposition: masterlist

────── ☾ ──────

“Morning!”

The group at the Gryffindor table turned their heads toward you.

“Morning,” Remus responded, twisting his body to see you standing directly behind him.

“You guys mind if I sit with you?”

“Not at all, gorgeous,” Remus flirted, patting the spot to his right as he took another bite of french toast.

You blushed as you sat down, smiling to everyone else at the table as a greeting.

As you settled in, the group continued the conversation they were having about upcoming exams. Being a year below them, you didn’t have much to offer, and you were growing bored.

You leaned over toward Remus, confidence beaming due to your desire for attention as you whispered, “thank you for yesterday. You were really nice to me.”

Remus turned his attention away from the group as he looked at you, smiling, “of course, but there’s no need to thank me. It was a pleasure.”

His flirtations made you blush. You thought about how funny it was that he had literally fucked you, yet one little comment made your heart putty in his hands.

You were blushy and giggly like a schoolgirl with a crush, completely unable to control yourself. “I’m glad it was a pleasure.”

Remus smiled even wider, catching onto your antics. “I fucked you once and now you’re in a mood, huh?” he teased.

“Maybe.”

Remus looked around the table, who still hadn’t noticed his absence from the conversation, and he took your hand, leaving his seat and subsequently pulling you up to a stand.

“We’ll be back,” Remus said.

“No no no,” James said, “no, that’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair?” Remus asked.

“Mate, you’re the only one here who’s been with her, and it was last night. Keep it in your pants, we’re literally at breakfast,” James pouted.

“Can’t help it when she asks,” Remus smiled.

You blushed even harder, ducking your head behind Remus’s shoulder in embarrassment.

The table gave up on fighting Remus. James turned back around with a sigh and continued eating and chatting, as did everyone at the table except for Sirius, who stayed eyeing you until you were out of view.

Remus pulled you down a few hallways until he found a sufficiently quiet corridor with empty classrooms.

“Remus, what if someone-“

“They never use these classrooms,” Remus said, quietly clicking the door shut, “one too many hexes, I suppose.”

“But-“

“You look so good right now.”

Your protestations died in your throat as Remus walked closer and closer to you. You took a step backward, and your lower back collided into an empty desk.

“Why so quiet all of a sudden?” Remus teased.

“You make me nervous,” you admitted without thinking.

“Yeah? Nervous how?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“I don’t know, like, I just- I keep thinking about yesterday,” you said.

Remus began to lightly run his fingers up the side of your body. “What about it?”

“You know what about.”

“I wanna hear you say it.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope.”

You took a deep breath. “I keep thinking about how we had sex. Happy?”

“Not quite,” Remus answered, “I wanna know what exactly about us having sex you keep thinking about.”

“I don’t know, you, I guess?”

“Me, hm?”

“Yeah.”

“You know what I keep thinking about?”

You cocked your head to the side.

“You.”

“Me?”

“Mhm,” Remus continued, “you underneath me, to be specific.”

As he spoke, Remus began to slowly pull your skirt up to your waist, causing your breathing to hitch in your throat.

“Well well well, is this all for me?”

Remus ran a finger over your underwear but still between your folds, the wetness already having soaked through the fabric, leaving an evident stain.

“Yes,” you admitted.

Remus removed his hand, instead wrapping his arms around the backs of your legs, causing you to gasp as you jumped upward. Remus moved you backward, and your ass hit the desk behind you. He took residence standing between your legs, which in turn made your skirt stay bunched up at your waist.

“Can I try something?” Remus asked.

“What do you wanna try?” you asked, your breathing heavy in anticipation from Remus’s close proximity.

“You.”

“Me what?”

“I wanna try you.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “You already did, we already had sex. I’m confused.”

Remus chuckled. “No, baby, I wanna taste you.”

“Oh.”

“That okay?”

“I don’t really know what that entails, but yeah.”

“You know you can always just tell me to stop, right?” Remus checked.

“Yes.”

Remus nodded at your response and sunk to his knees, looking up at you as he pushed your underwear to the side.

“What if-“

“Don’t be self conscious baby, you’re beautiful,” Remus eased your nerves, and you took a deep breath as you forced your muscles to relax.

Remus stuck his tongue out and tasted between your folds, moving slowly and gentle so as not to overstimulate you too early, and you shuddered at the contact.

Remus maintained eye contact as you watched him move his tongue up and down, tasting your evident wetness. You moaned when he flicked his tongue faster directly on your clit.

Your body jolted, and Remus made a sound of satisfaction as he continued his work on your clit, alternating between flicking you with his tongue and sucking and kissing.

“Fuck,” you sighed.

Remus reached a hand up to grab yours, intertwining your fingers with his to help steady you in a gesture of intimacy that you really appreciated.

You squeezed his hand as you became a whiny, submissive mess.

Remus’s other hand gripped the flesh of your ass that was accessible, pushing you closer to him and increasing the intensity of your pleasure.

You threw your head back, and your hand instinctively went to the back of Remus’s head, lightly pulling the strands of his hair.

You snapped out of your daze for a moment and quickly removed your hand, self conscious about the action made while you were lost in pleasure.

Remus pulled away from you. “Go for it, baby, don’t hold back.”

You knew he was intentionally calling you baby because you mentioned yesterday that you liked it, and the remembrance was only adding to your arousal.

You swallowed your self consciousness and resumed playing with Remus’s hair. He moaned into you at the feeling, clearly happy about it.

“Shit, Rem-“

Remus moved his mouth faster, desperately trying to pull an orgasm from you.

“Rem- Remmy-“

Remus pulled away for a brief moment to say, “feels so good you’re callin me nicknames now, huh?”

“S-sorry,” you stuttered.

“Uh uh, you better keep moaning little nicknames for me like that.”

You simply moaned in response, losing strength to stay sitting up as you began to lightly grind your hips against Remus’s face, so lost in pleasure you didn’t care about being embarrassed anymore.

Remus slapped the outside of your thigh, looking up at you. He decided to test the waters with you. “I said keep moaning my fucking name.”

You liked the dominance. “Yes, Remmy.”

“Good girl,” he praised, reconnecting his mouth to you and still focusing on your clit, deciding to save anything else for another time, as this was your first time doing this, and he wanted to take it slow. He knew not many of the others would.

You threw your head back, anchoring yourself with your hand on Remus’s head as your moans became louder and louder.

Remus let go of your hand and held your waist, now completely gripping your hips as he pushed you as close to him as he could.

Your high was approaching quickly, and your moans were becoming high pitched and weak.

“I’m, it’s- Remmy, I-“

Remus didn’t pull away, but instead looked up at you to watch your face as you came.

You threw your head back instinctively, your chest rapidly rising and falling as your orgasm washed over you.

Remus stayed between your legs to lap up any and all wetness, and only stood when he was satisfied.

You were trying hard to catch your breath, and Remus smiled at you. “Feel good?”

You smiled in return. “Fuck.”

Remus kissed you, and you could taste yourself on his lips.

“I’m not even hungry for breakfast anymore,” Remus joked.

────── ☾ ──────

All you could think about was Remus.

You felt like a woman possessed. You couldn’t focus in lectures because all you could think of was Remus’s head between your legs. How he sounded when he moaned into you. The way he called you baby when he fucked you. The way he runs his fingers through his messy hair. You were enamored, and you were becoming horny much more frequently than you ever imagined.

Even when you were with the group, you stayed attached to Remus. You always sat with your thigh against his, and even sometimes stood holding his arm. You were obsessed, and the group noticed.

You had just joined, and you were already completely infatuated with just one of them, and that concerned the group, so they decided to meet without you, something they rarely did, but found necessary.

“She’s absolutely obsessed with you, mate.”

Remus flicked embers from his cigarette into the ashtray in the center of the courtyard. “I don’t know what to tell you. I like her, if she wants me, I’m not gonna say no. It’s her choice who she wants.”

“Come on, guys, go easy on Y/N,” Lily said, “every girl gets a little obsessed with their first time. It’s the same way I was with James.”

“If that ain’t the truth,” James said, raising his bottle of firewhiskey.

Sirius took the opportunity to stand up and grab the raised bottle, and he downed the remainder of its contents in an instant.

“Someone else needs to fuck her,” Mary chimed in, “simple as that.”

“She’ll get there, why rush her?” Remus defended.

“Oh shut up mate, you just like having someone want you so bad,” James argued.

Remus shrugged before taking another drag of his cigarette, not completely disagreeing with James’s sentiment.

Sirius cleared his throat, and the attention of the room turned to him. In an annoyed tone, he spoke, “someone go and fuck her, then.”

“Why don’t you go find her?” Dorcas suggested to Sirius.

“Maybe I will.”

“No, no, I got this,” James said, standing up and straightening his shirt, “I know my way to the Hufflepuff common room.”

“She’s not in the common room, she’s in potions,” Sirius said.

“What, you know her schedule now?”

Sirius shrugged and rested his elbows on his knees, the wind knocking a few strands of hair in front of his face.

James threw his hands in the air. “I don’t know where the Hufflepuff potions classroom is, what do you want me to do? Fuck.”

“Just find her later. It’s not like she’s gonna fuck you in a classroom anyways,” Dorcas said.

Remus scoffed to himself, not realizing it was loud enough for the group to hear. Everyone’s gaze shot toward him.

“Sorry,” Remus smiled, clearly not sorry at all.

“Oh come on,” James said, throwing his hands up in the air, “I don’t even have a shot.”

“You’ll be fine, mate, just try manhandling her a little,” Remus said casually.

“Yeah?”

“She seemed to like the little bit I did when I tried,” Remus revealed.

By the time classes were over, you were nowhere to be seen. You hadn’t had the need to walk past the courtyard at all, but that didn’t mean James gave up. Instead, he just walked around the Hufflepuff hallways until he saw you.

“Hey Y/N!” he exclaimed when he finally caught your eye.

“Hey, James, what are you doing down here?” you said, approaching the common room door.

“Do you guys get to snatch snacks?” he asked, his inner monologue taking over as he noticed the Hufflepuff common room was extremely close to the kitchens.

“You came down here because you wanted a snack?” you asked, turning to face him.

“I guess you could say that,” he responded.

“What does that mean?”

“Shouldn’t you know now? I mean, I thought Remus took care of teaching you that already,” James smirked.

You blushed and bowed your head briefly. “He’s quick to talk, that one.”

“Why have you been so attached to him?” James asked.

You processed the question before speaking. “I don’t know, I guess I didn’t realize I had been. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, angel, no worries,” James said, stepping closer and closer to you, “I think I can help that.”

“Yeah?” you played along, “how?”

“Follow me and you’ll find out.”

You smiled as you took James’s hand, your other hand holding your books to your chest as you mindlessly followed James’s lead. You watched the muscles in his arm flex as he held onto your hand, and you felt yourself growing excited.

You were becoming attached to Remus, and you knew you had to get that out of your system. Besides, James was hot, and you were now perpetually horny, so why not indulge in a little fun?

────── ☾ ──────

“I am not going in there.”

James sighed. “C’mon, it really isn’t as scary as it looks. Promise.”

“No no, I think it is as scary as it looks,” you protested, “I’ve heard horror stories about this place, James. It’s called the Shrieking Shack for a reason.”

“Would you just trust me?” James said.

“In theory,” you responded, but still swallowed your fears and let him direct you toward the dilapidated building.

You were surprised by its contents. The interior was decorated somewhat cozy, and a large bed sat in the corner across from a warm fireplace. Lily sat on a couch facing the flames, reading for pleasure in her solitude.

“Hey, Lil, I’m sorry, we didn’t know you were out here,” James said when he spotted her.

“No worries,” Lily said, standing, “I can get going, and leave you two alone.”

She started to exit the room, but the moment she walked past James, he called out to her. “Wait. Stay.”

You turned to James, then to Lily, then back to James again. Maybe he didn’t bring you here to fuck. Maybe he really just wanted to hang out.

“Yeah? Is that alright with you, Y/N?” Lily asked.

Your gaze continued to shift between James and Lily. “I think I’m confused.”

James took a step closer to you, shifting his body behind you as he swept your hair off of one shoulder. He leaned toward your ear, whispering, “No, I don’t think you are.”

He then lightly kissed your neck, momentarily sucking on a few sensitive spots. You felt yourself lose control as your head fell backwards and your eyes closed. His lips felt like heaven against your skin.

You forgot Lily was in the room until you felt her presence in front of you. You opened your eyes but they almost instantly shut again as Lily connected her lips to yours. Your mouths moved in sync as you let yourself melt into their touches.

James’s hands ran down your sides, pushing down the garments on your lower body. You shivered as the cool air hit your now bare skin.

“Here, c’mere,” James said, directing you over to the space in between the couch and the fireplace. “Better?”

“Mhm,” you vocalized.

James studied you for a moment. He remembered what Remus has said earlier about manhandling you, and decided to take the chance. He stood in front of you and grabbed your throat, lightly squeezing his fingers as he pulled your body closer to his, your face mere inches from his. “You gonna be good?” he whispered.

“Yes,” you answered.

“Good girl,” he praised, his unoccupied hand connecting to your clit, immediately rubbing steady circles on you as he studied your expression.

Your mouth opened and you tried to moan, but the pressure around your throat meant every noise came out as a shaky breath or a small, strangled moan.

James’s eyes never left yours as your brows furrowed and you tried to shift your weight, but his grip on you was firm. He studied exactly how your features shifted and contorted when he moved fast or hit a particularly good spot, and he could feel a straining in his jeans.

Your arousal grew each time you tried to move away but couldn’t. James was certainly the most muscular of any of the group, and he worked out the most, almost by default from playing Quidditch. You were happy he was manhandling you: he was perfect for it.

James continued to touch you as you struggled to remain standing, but luckily, Lily came to your aid, holding your hips from behind.

“Aweh, Jamesie, I think she’s gonna fall if you let her go,” Lily taunted.

James listened to Lily, then directed his attention back to you. “Open your eyes,” he demanded, and you did just that, “if you fall, it better be to your knees.”

You nodded your head up and down as much as you could with James’s grip on you, and he immediately let go of your throat. You felt your knees buckle, and despite the fact that you probably could have stood, you sunk to your knees in front of James.

He smiled wickedly as he unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down, standing in front of you in his boxers once his shirt was removed.

You looked up at him and swallowed hard, turned on but also nervous.

“I’ve never done this before,” you reminded him, “I don’t think it’ll be good.”

“You don’t have to do it, angel,” James said, fearing he was pressuring you.

“I want to,” you admitted, “I just- I-“

“Want me to talk you through it?”

“You don’t have to- I just- I don’t know-“

James sank down to your level, kneeling on the floor in front of you and taking your hands in his. “If you don’t wanna do this, you tell me whenever. Otherwise, don’t be embarrassed. I’ll walk you through it. We stop when you want. Don’t worry about it being bad, baby, that pretty mouth around my cock couldn’t possibly be bad. Lily can help, too. She’s got it down to a science. Okay?”

You blushed and dropped your head to hide it. James maneuvered his own boxers off, before standing up again, his semi-hard cock almost level with your face.

“You wanna watch what I do first?” Lily suggested, and you immediately nodded. You would feel a lot more comfortable seeing her do it first, partially so you could have a reference, but partially because you couldn’t stand the thought of doing it in front of Lily without Lily having done anything sexual in front of you first.

Lily shuffled on her knees toward James, who smiled down at her. She took James’s cock in her hand and pointed the tip directly outward.

“Boys like it when you work ‘em up first, especially this one,” Lily smiled.

Lily kept James’s cock steady as she licked a stripe from the base to the tip, circling her tongue around the tip before pulling away to speak again.

“Since it’s your first time, don’t rush it,” she said, “go nice and slow and let yourself adjust. Like this.”

Lily wrapped her mouth around James’s cock, and he immediately threw his head back and let out a moan. She slowly sunk her head further and further down.

James’s hand instinctively found it’s way to the back of Lily’s head, causing Lily to pull away with a pop. “She can’t see if your arm is in the way, Jamie!”

“Fuck, sorry,” James breathed out, clearly worked up from even one small moment.

“The little moans mean he likes it,” Lily said, “just watch your teeth. Try to think about hollowing out your cheeks.”

You nodded and watched as Lily reconnected her mouth to James’s cock. He clenched his hands into fists to stop himself from holding her head against him, and you could tell he was fighting to keep his resolve. Lily moved her head as far down as she could go, then almost entirely off, then back down again. She kept a steady pace, and eventually James looked down at her, and Lily forced her eyes open to look back at him.

“Fuck, we love it when you fucking look at us,” James said, talking to you, but looking at Lily.

Lily continued to suck him off for a few moments before disconnecting herself from him again, shifting backwards on her knees to make room for you.

You made yourself comfortable as you took a deep breath. You looked up at James, and he nearly combusted when he made eye contact with you. “Shit, baby, don’t look at me like that.”

“Will you tell me if anything is uncomfortable?” you asked.

The innocence coating your voice was driving James crazy, and he was growing more and more eager by the second. “Shit, yes, I promise.”

You copied Lily’s initial actions, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock as you wrapped your lips around his tip. You remembered what Lily said about teeth, and you did your best to avoid having them touch James. You moved your lips as far down James’s shaft as you could before you felt his tip his the back of your throat, causing you to gag around him and pull away.

“It’s okay, that’s okay! That’s totally normal,” Lily said, immediately putting her hand on your back to comfort you, “just go a little less far this time.”

You wrapped your lips around James again, this time only sinking down as far as you could without his cock hitting the back of your throat. You slowly pulled back and then pushed in again, trying to gage how it feels to move. You focused on keeping your cheeks hollowed out.

After a few tries, you got your jaw in a comfortable position. You looked up at James, who was fighting for his life to keep it together. He was gripping Lily’s hand in his own, and his other hand was in front of his face, covering his own mouth.

You pulled away from James. “Are you okay?” you asked.

“Yeah, baby, just didn’t wanna make a noise and stress you out.”

“Am I doing okay?”

“You’re doing so good for me, baby.”

You gave him a small smile before sinking back onto his length. You found your comfortable position again, and began to move more and more, gradually increasing your speed as you adjusted.

“Atta girl,” Lily said.

You braced yourself by placing your palms on his thighs, allowing yourself to more easily get closer and closer to him.

As time went on, James lost himself in the pleasure, and eventually completely forgot that this was your first time, and that he was supposed to be gentle.

His eyes were closed and his head was thrown back as he placed his hand on the back of your head, forcing you closer to him.

You tried your best to focus on keeping your cheeks hollow, and realized you should breathe through your nose. You knew you could stop James at any time, but you didn’t really want to. You relished in the knowledge that your mouth around him felt so good that he lost control.

James began to buck his hips forward, causing you to still your head as he took over. He fucked your mouth fast, chasing his high as you tried your best to breathe and stay still.

Lily grabbed your shoulders and pulled you away from him. James snapped out of his trance, and looked down to you concerned.

“Shit, angel, are you alright?” he asked, leaning down and running a thumb over your cheek.

You nodded yes as you caught your breath.

You turned to Lily, who said, “it’s no fun if he comes already.”

James got down to your level, kneeling on the floor as he begged, “seven hells, Y/N, please let us fuck you.”

You leaned toward James and gently kissed him, and he immediately reciprocated, running his fingers through your hair and deepening the kiss.

He pulled you against his body as he leaned backward, straightening his legs until he was laying flat against the floor, holding your body against his while still kissing you.

“Flip around,” he said.

You gave him a confused look, but instead of explaining, he simply repeated, “flip the fuck around.”

You awkwardly shifted your body around until your back was to James. You were nervous to put the pressure of your body against his chest, so you knelt on the floor between his legs, unsure of what to do.

You luckily didn’t have to ask. James leaned upward and wrapped his arms around your body, pulling your back flush against his chest as he laid back down against the rug.

“Legs on either side of me, angel,” he said, and you moved your knees to either side of his waist.

Even before you had sex, you had some understanding of how it worked, but this was all new for you. You listened to any instruction James gave you without question, because it wasn’t like you knew what you were doing anyway.

James unwrapped his arms from your body and ran his fingers over your arms before pulling them backwards, your head nearly knocking back into his head from surprise as he positioned your arms on either side of his head, allowing you to hold yourself up.

“You okay?” he checked in once he had you in the position he wanted.

“Mhm,” you responded.

He gripped your hips, his strength overwhelming you as he lifted your hips with ease. You helped him, lifting your knees until you felt him stop.

James gave his cock a few fast strokes before he positioned himself at your entrance. He pushed your hips down, trying to be slow for your sake, but somewhat failing. When you were all the way sat down, you could hear James’s head hit the floor as he threw it back.

He continued to move your hips up and down, relishing in the pleasure. After a few thrusts, he choked out, “Lil?”

“Already here,” she said, her voice sultry.

Your eyes were squeezed shut, but when you heard her voice, you snapped out of your daze to see she was right between your legs.

“Hi,” you squeaked out.

“Hi,” she responded.

She straightened her back until her lips were mere inches away from yours. She waited until you cried out at a sharp thrust of James’s hips to kiss you. She wrapped her fingers in your hair to keep your head in place, her tongue finding it’s way into your mouth as you moaned.

When she pulled away, she kept eye contact, and began to move down your body. When she was back in between your legs, you nodded to her, granting her permission.

Lily’s tongue began to taste between your folds. James’s thrusts we’re growing hard, his hips now moving more than yours, so Lily didn’t have to do much work.

Her tongue flicked against you as your hips moved up and down, the added pleasure causing your arousal to build rapidly.

She gazed up at you, moving her mouth closer to you so she could suck at your clit as you watched her.

“Fuck, I can’t-“ you moaned.

James released one of your hips and gripped your hair, forcing your head to tilt downward and watch Lily.

Lily sucked and licked at your clit, focusing on circling your clit with her tongue, knowing it would help drive you over the edge.

“Fuck, c’mere,” James nearly growled, knocking your arms and holding your back against his chest, your head falling beside his.

He began to fuck into you even harder, hitting your sweet spot with every vicious thrust. The stretched out position allowed Lily more access to your core, and she gently pawed at James’s balls as she continued to taste you.

While everything about the moment was heated, what sent you over the edge was James’s hold on you. His muscular arms held you against him so effortlessly, but so strong that you couldn’t dare to move if you wanted to. You felt so close to him, and the thought did you in.

“I’m com-“ you couldn’t even finish the sentence before your high crashed over you.

James immediately pulled you up and off of him and allowed Lily to taste your juices, sucking at your entrance until you had calmed down and were clean. As she did so, James used one hand to hold his cock against your thigh, fucking it until he came, spilling his seed on your thigh and hip.

Lily leaned over to lick up the come all over you, making sure you were clean before she backed away.

You dropped your hips to the floor, exhaustion overwhelming you as James shifted backward and allowed you to rest your head on his legs.

Naked and fucked out, James began to run his fingers through your sweat soaked hair. You stayed there for a moment, while Lily reclothed herself and organized her books, before you asked, “how long have you guys been coming here?”

“Years,” James answered, “Remus started coming here during his transitions, and the rest of us would come help him out. It kinda became our place.”

You tilted your head to look up at James. “His what?”

“His transitions. Transformations. Whatever.”

“Transformations?”

“Remus is a werewolf, honey,” Lily chimed in, “there’s no way you couldn’t have known that.”

You did not know that.

“Sirius can turn into a dog,” James blurted out.

“A what?”

“You have so much to learn,” James teased.

“A dog? Like a dog? Like a literal dog?”

“Mhm,” James smiled, “pretty cute dog, too. Big fluffy black thing. Can be kinda scary. He doesn’t really talk about it.”

“What can you turn into?” you looked up to James.

“Baby, you just saw the animal I can be.”

“Oh be honest with her, James,” Lily said, “that wasn’t even the half of it.”

────── ☾ ──────

please comment on this chapter to be added to the taglist! i’m refreshing the list :) thank you!

current taglist: @alixmarauders @riddlemenottsluttyslytherin @twilightlover2007 @hcqwxrtss123 @queerndepressed @prongs-wolfstar-marauders @flowersarcute @remussbitch @ch4rlotte35 @alwaysanundertone @urfavhanna @donovorita28 @randomcreator-09 @joey-hoey @chronically-sh-ana @pinksmellslikelove @blvebanisters @aaronhotchswife @roseblack1864 @chaevvonders @champomiel

[neverthatsirius-jo]

[present jo note: read this last night with my notes app open so i could go annotating hope u don’t mind i wrote a lot :p]

if u couldn't tell it's very inspired by early 2000s romcoms

wooo, just as im in my romcom watching era. perfect 🥳🫶

James was nothing to fawn over.

?! ?! ?! ?!?!2€/ ?!;@/€:@

"Was it professional when I was your first kiss?" He stepped closer and you instinctively stepped back, feeling the plaster wall graze your back through your work blazer.

"It was spin the bottle and we were twelve, it's ancient history. And do you mind? I know you're some kind of god around here but I have a reputation to uphold,"

YOU WERENT FUCKING LYING THIS IS SO ROM COM GAAAAAH

"Not Lily! Have I missed my chance forever?"

this made me giggle teehEe

"She doesn't like beer, thinks it tastes like piss." You whipped your neck around at the familiar voice, mouth dropping open at the sight of James Potter.

i would murder him. my face would be so red

"Are you thick? I only said that because I fancied you!"

"What do you mean you said it because you fancied me? That is not normal!" You whirled around, accusatory finger pointed his way.

"I don't know! I thought I was supposed to! It wasn't cool to be a sap!" James argued back, running a hand through his already tousled curls.

ilovethemilovethemilovethem

thinking of u :P <3

GODDDD WHAT HAVE I DONE TO DESERVE JAMES POTTER NOT BEING REAL

"This photo was taken when we were twelve or thirteen years old at someone's party. That night, as you tend to do when you're young and bored, we played spin the bottle and ended up being each other's first kiss. I'm sure you're all wondering why I'm telling this story now, and it's because ever since that night as I have recently realised, almost a decade later, I have been embarrassingly, stupidly in love with her."

giggling and crying all at the same time

"And though I've done some incredibly dumb things over the years, somehow she's managed to like me back -- at least a little. So I'm setting the record straight right now, she is not 'sleeping to the top' or trying to get a secret scoop out of me because I'm the one who's been chasing after her for twelve years.

"I know I've been rambling on for far too long so I'll wrap it up here, but I just wanted to end this little conference with a warning that if I see any more disgusting, hateful articles about her, you won't be getting another comment from me again. So nice to see you all!"

😔😭🥳✨💗👹 i cant

11k WORDS? WERE BEING FED FOLKS. i feel like a squirrel with her supply of nuts for the winter HAHSH WHAT AM I SAYING SOMEONE SHUT ME UP (preferably james potter and with a kiss thanks)

summary: loved this, gia. it was very rom-com, very cutesy 💗🫶✨

our names in the paper - footballer!james potter x fem!sports journalist!reader

wc: 11,151

cw: swearing, fade to black but suggestive moments?, smoking, slut-shaming, kissing

info: r and james are about 24, set in 2007ish solely for the romcom vibes. james is the equivalent of like David Beckham in his prime, all pics are for vibes only, not reflective of r's appearance etc

me: i've been working on this for soooo long i am so happy it's finally done!! if u couldn't tell it's very inspired by early 2000s romcoms and i am honestly so proud of it so praying it doesn't flop LOL

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

"James, James! Over here! What's the defence strategy this season?"

If you had to hear James' name one more time you might scream. Unfortunately, you were locked in a room with nothing but that. Worse, you were part of the problem.

"Mister Potter, what do you think about your striker's goal-to-game ratio falling rapidly this season?" You called, begrudgingly hoping for a moment of the soccer star's attention. Fortunately (or unfortunately), his glittering eyes settled on you, singling you out from the room of hungry journalists.

"I think that you miss one hundred per cent of the shots you don't take," He said, smirk turning to something challenging, "And as long as my team is training and working together, I'm not gonna cry over a bit of spilt milk or missed goals. And, as far as I'm concerned we're still winning games, aren't we?" You rolled your eyes, scribbling down his answer nonetheless.

You continued the catfight of trying to get answers for your newest article, keeping the balance of vying for James' attention and showing him you didn't care for him personally, unlike the other journalists you were pushing against. The conference room was full of men and women who wanted to be James or be with him. Aside from the professional questions, there were certainly several invitations to the pub thrown around, and you were sure you saw one woman try and give him her cellphone number. You rolled your eyes again at that, James was nothing to fawn over.

He might be a big shot now, but you'd known him almost all your life. The two of you had gone to school together and had bickered through every interaction since then. James had always wanted to be a football star, and you a journalist. You'd never believed in him and vice versa, both of you taking every opportunity to tease the other or cut each other down. Maybe it was just clashing personalities, two people too ambitious to be friends. The rivalry had lasted past school, and unfortunately, the two of you often crossed paths in your respective careers.

The press conference wrapped up soon after your question, and you ended up lingering in the room trying to finish your notes. James was still over at his podium next to his coach, drinking out of a plastic water bottle and arduously texting on his flip phone. Seeing you hovering by the door he called your last name, sauntering up behind you. You rolled your eyes and braced yourself for the encounter.

"Potter." You smiled curtly, moving to leave.

"You don't have to call me 'Mr Potter' during the conferences, you know. James is perfectly fine, everyone else calls me that."

"Just trying to stay professional," You said through gritted teeth, aware his coach and a few others were still around you. It could cost you your job to snap at him.

"Was it professional when I was your first kiss?" He stepped closer and you instinctively stepped back, feeling the plaster wall graze your back through your work blazer.

"It was spin the bottle and we were twelve, it's ancient history. And do you mind? I know you're some kind of god around here but I have a reputation to uphold," You whispered, glancing around anxiously. James laughed at your distress which only annoyed you further. Maybe he could get away with anything, but you had to fight for your place in your field as a female sports journalist, you couldn't afford to take it lightly.

You couldn't help the physical reaction to being trapped between James and the wall though, your breathing shallow and quick, face tilted up slightly to look at him. You felt a bit like prey, caught in the predator's territory and resigned to imminent death.

"Let her go, will you? She's just doing her job," Remus Lupin said, entering the conference room with his nose crinkled from the smell. You couldn't blame him, sweaty players and hungry journalists didn't make any kind of utopia together.

"I wasn't doing anything!" James cried, hands up in surrender, "Come on love, I was just giving you the scoop, right?"

"First of all, if you were giving me 'the scoop' right now I'd certainly be accused of sleeping to the top by all the blokes waiting out there," You gestured to the group of other reporters still lingering in the hall waiting for any scraps of information, "And secondly, I work for the bloody Sunday People, not the BBC. I honestly think they'd rather I just write about your 'dashing good looks' or a drug scandal than your games," You complained, falling back into the ease of conversation now that Remus was there. He'd been at school with the both of you, growing up to be a physiotherapist, but was always much more palatable than James.

Both men laughed at your plight.

"If you ever need a more detailed look at my dashing good looks just ask, sweetheart. I'd be glad to show you, you know, for your articles." You rolled your eyes at James' attempt to be charming, snapping your notebook shut.

"Alright, I think that's my cue to go," You said curtly, smoothing out your work trousers. "Remus, I'll return Dracula next time I see you; I'm almost finished." You remembered you'd had his novel for quite a while, sparing him a smile on the way out.

"You lend her books?" James asked incredulously, hazel eyes curiously following your figure down the hall. Remus just shrugged, patting James on the shoulder and attending to his actual job, checking up on the players after the match.

James was still hung up on the fact when he returned to the apartment he shared with Remus and Sirius, flabbergasted as he hung his coat on the rack.

"Since when are you two close enough to be sharing books?" He cried as he paced through the kitchen, "Have we not all been in agreement that she is stubborn and hard-headed and annoying and has been since school?"

"No," Remus shook his head, "You decided that, and I daresay she feels the same about you. I've always rather liked her."

James was unexpectedly dumbfounded at the realisation that you weren’t the common enemy he thought you were. Even Sirius didn’t seem to dislike you, always stopping for a chat when you were around the stadium and giving you extra comments with a flirty wink.

James didn’t need to think about you for another few weeks; his team hadn’t played one week and you’d been assigned other matches for the others — he read your very amusing pieces on lawn bowls and chess-boxing, partly because he knew you’d hate the assignment.

You were blissfully apart until one Saturday night. You were out with your friends and a few coworkers and James was out with his. He’d started in the local pub while you were at a fancy cocktail restaurant for Lily’s bachelorette party, however, your groups crossed paths in the depths of a nightclub.

Maybe you were getting too old for them, waking up with sore backs and knees after nights of dancing, but it didn’t mean you wouldn’t give it a red hot go. And with a few cocktails in your system, nobody could convince you it wasn’t a good idea.

You'd been shaking what your mother gave you for the better part of an hour before it was your turn to get another round, telling the girls you'd be back before stumbling through a sea of sweaty bodies.

Some gross man who was definitely too old for you obstructed your path, grabbing your arms to make you dance with him. Your face crinkled in disgust of its own accord, trying to wiggle yourself free. He continued to encroach on your space, forcing you around despite your persistence. Finally, a man's hands landed on his shoulders, yanking him away and subsequently freeing you from his grasp. The momentum sent you tumbling in your strappy heels, right into something warm and solid. You cringed, having been there before. You turned slowly to meet your unwitting saviour, huffing when you realised it was James.

"Oh, fuck off," You grumbled, mostly to yourself, producing a quick apology to not seem totally impolite.

"Alright?" Sirius asked, revealing himself as the one who'd gotten you away from the creep. You shrugged, fixing your hair.

"Been better," You told him, preparing to leave before seemingly their whole team had surrounded you, all greeting you loudly. You weakly waved at them, feeling dreadfully underdressed and professional. You were used to seeing them in the stadium and press conferences where you were much more modestly dressed. The strapless mini dress wasn't giving you the same layer of protection.

"Right," You said when there didn't seem to be any more productive conversation happening, "I'm off to the bar then."

"Let me buy you a drink, to make up for the freak," One of the players, Frank, said. You smiled but shook your head.

"I'm buying for several, it wouldn't be fair. It's Lily's bachelorette." You directed the last sentence to those who knew her, the football and journalism professions having considerable overlap due to events and the never-ending scandals and interviews. James covered his face in mock-devastation.

"Not Lily! Have I missed my chance forever?" He moaned, earning some shoves from the rest of the group. You and Lily had been friends since uni, and you'd introduced her to the boys at one of the terrible house parties you'd endured over your three years studying. James had developed a thing for her right away (no one knew how much of it was serious and how much was for comedic value) and had been loudly pining for her ever since, despite her long-term relationship with Dirk Cresswell, an economist who worked in the building down the block from your office.

"I think you missed your chance the first time," You retorted with a snort, a little drunk to have any ferocity in your tone. You both made a face at each other, ignoring the laughter of those around you. You dismissed the group and danced away, shaking your arse over to the bar.

A few rounds later and you were not in your best shape. The girls had been absolute menaces, feeding you shots and deceiving colourful cocktails that actually held like seven standards in them, and you were certainly feeling the effects. You excused yourself from the group to find a loo, bile rising in your throat as you pushed past dancers, not even sparing a comment for James as you saw him.

That confused both James and his friends, becoming used to your insistent teasing over the years. He exchanged a look with Sirius, following you through the crowd and to the bathrooms.

He figured something was wrong when you burst into the gender-neutral bathrooms, not bothering to lock the door behind you. James and Sirius silently fought about who was going to follow you in and check on you; James found you insufferable, Sirius had severe emetophobia and would probably throw up himself if he had to be close to you vomiting. James rolled his eyes, it was his responsibility. Sirius clapped him on the back gratefully, leaving him to return to the others. James sighed, reciting some affirmations before he cracked the door open, calling out to you.

When you responded with a disgusting wretch, James slipped inside, gagging a little as he saw you leant over the toilet bowl, bare knees on the grimy tile floor.

"Alright?" He asked for lack of anything better, unsurprised when you replied with another gag.

"I feel ill," You said pathetically, head hung low in the bowl which James knew you would resent tomorrow. He laughed quietly, getting closer to you.

"No shit, idiot," His tone was light as he began to rub your back softly, making sure your hair was away from your mouth. You vomited a few more times, your body reacting in violent hurls as James tried to be both soothing and as far away as possible.

When your stomach was finally empty you slumped against the toilet, cheek pressed against the cool porcelain.

"Woah," James pulled you up to a sitting position, "That cannot be good for your skin. Let's get you home, okay?" You nodded petulantly, letting yourself be led out through the club, James telling Lily he'd make sure you got home (and congratulated her on the upcoming wedding).

"Can we get some gum or something? My throat tastes like vom." James looked down at you from where you were lodged into his side, legs shaky as you wobbled down the street. He sighed and steered you in the direction of a convenience store, picking out strawberry gum for you since it tasted better than mint, your words. Good you thought when he paid for it, the football star can shell out 2 pounds, makes more than you anyhow.

You chewed happily, stumbling down the pavement as James held onto you, keeping you upright.

"You're so muscly," You said, somewhat in a drunken haze.

"Thank you?" James laughed, patting you softly on the forearm he was holding. To be fair, you weren't quite sure if it was a compliment either. Your words were admittedly oddly nice but your tone made it confusing, drunk thoughts not completely translating to sober dynamics.

You meandered for a few oddly peaceful minutes, neither of you starting an argument or picking a fight. It was a nice break from normal, the two of you even sharing some peaceful small talk -- discussing a movie you'd both seen recently.

Of course, nothing good lasts.

"James!" A voice yelled from the other side of the street, a short man with mousy mannerisms. James groaned beside you.

"Peter Pettigrew," He whispered to you, trying to pull you along faster, "We used to be mates but turns out he was just using me to get team secrets out into the papers." You whipped your head around to look at him. Oh! You knew Pettigrew, unsurprising given you both reported on essentially the same topics, but he had a bad name even in your circles. He was closer to a paparazzi than a journalist, going for the cheap stories and ad hominem approaches rather than searching for any meaningful insights. Simply put, in an already sleazy career, Peter Pettigrew was the bottom of the barrel.

"Later, mate. I'm in the middle of something right now." James put his arm around your shoulder, better shielding you as he tried to make a getaway. The telltale flash of a camera reflected off the grey pavement, making both you and James whip your heads around to face Peter, looking hardly ashamed of himself. After a moment of shock, you both covered your faces, stumbling down the street as fast as you could manage. The damage was already done.

Suddenly you didn't feel as drunk, navigating the cobblestone streets with unanticipated nimbleness. James might've had the athlete's advantage but you were on home turf, leading him through local shortcuts and to the front door of your apartment building.

On the journey over you'd attracted a few more photographers all fiending for a scandalous picture of James, a small mob forming as you tried to punch in the door code despite your shaking hands. James was right behind you, front pressed to your back, holding his Adidas windbreaker out in a position to shield your face from the prying eyes.

You slammed the door shut, the nosy questions and camera clicks immediately muffled. James let out a long sigh, running a hand through his already tousled hair. Neither of you spoke for a while, processing what had happened.

"Make yourself at home then." You cringed as you surveyed the state of your flat; clothes flung over chairs and dishes still in the sink. Your only option for living alone was cramming all your stuff into what was essentially a shoebox, so any amount of mess made the place look chaotic.

"Nice place," James said and you immediately rolled your eyes, snatching up a stray bra strewn across an armchair. "No, I mean it! It's cozy. Very you." He gestured up at the colourful, mismatched glassware in a kitchen cabinet and the beaded curtain separating your bedroom. You blushed slightly; you didn't often take men home, your flat staying a girly paradise just for you.

You put on the kettle, comforted by the familiar sounds of water beginning to boil. James sat awkwardly on an armchair near the window, anxiously peeking out from behind the curtain every few minutes. His reactions told you the paparazzi were still loitering outside.

James took his tea gratefully, surprisingly still agreeable despite all the terrible things that had happened in the course of a few hours.

"Do you have a back exit or something? Somewhere I can slip out and get home?" You shook your head with a grimace.

"Only the fire exit, but that still goes out near the front. Otherwise we're surrounded by other buildings."

"You must be exhausted after everything. Head off to bed, I'll wait until the gits outside fuck off then lock the door behind me. We don't have to ever mention this again if you don't want." The orange lamp light made James' eyes look unfairly soft, highlighting the golden flecks amongst the brown. You steeled your nerve and shook your head.

"I'm not that bad of a host," You tried to joke, "Besides, don't you have training tomorrow? You're already up later than I'm sure you intended to be. I couldn't live with myself if I ruined England's star player by making him stay up all night, you take my bed and go to sleep." You were both very carefully trying to keep things light, not wanting to spend any more of the night miserable and fighting.

"Well, I'm not taking your bed, that's just impolite. I'll take the couch, if you're being so generous as to let me stay." He had a cheeky smile on his lips as he said it, both of you dancing around the fact that in any other circumstance James wouldn't have been allowed within fifteen feet of your flat.

"That couch? No way." You pointed at the teensy vintage sofa sitting in front of the boxy television. It had space for maybe two and a half arses to sit on it, maybe horizontally extended legs if you were short-ish, but there was no way the goliath James Potter was getting any decent sleep on it. "You take the bed. I'll survive the couch tonight."

"Don't be stupid, I can't sleep in your bed. If not the couch I'll take the floor."

"Speaking from a purely medical standpoint, I haven't cleaned these floors recently enough for it to be safe to have your face in such close proximity. Take the bed, Potter."

You bickered for a few long minutes, both of you trying to outdo each other's respect as host and guest, respectively. You didn't miss the irony that even when you and James were getting along you were fighting.

"I'm not letting you go without, that's final." You turned away to go fetch a pillow for your night on the couch when James said something you never ever thought you'd hear from him.

"Then sleep with me."

"Excuse me?" You all but shrieked, immediately cringing as you thought about your poor neighbours.

"Look, it's basically morning, we're both shattered and I'm sure your bed is much comfier than whatever alternative you're planning. We can even go full pillow-wall if it'll make you feel better." You stared at him for several moments, lips actually agape. Never in your life did you think James Potter would be asking you to share a bed with him, and never in your life did you think you'd be considering it.

"Fine."

Twenty minutes later and you were both ready for bed. You'd found James an old pair of an ex-boyfriend's long abandoned pyjamas, stuffed in a bottom drawer. They were slightly too small to accommodate all his muscles, the t-shirt sitting a few inches above the pants' waistband, giving him a very '90s crop top and exposing his happy trail.

You were almost definitely more embarrassed than James. You were in a similarly aged pair of pyjamas, a cartoon of Spongebob over your chest. You couldn't tell if you'd prefer to be in the lame pair that you were wearing or a cute pair -- no, it would probably look like you were trying too hard. Which you weren't. You didn't care about looking cute in front of James Potter, why would you?

He was already in bed when you'd returned from your skincare routine, face fresh and moisturised, and though you knew he was going to be there, nothing could have prepared you for the sight of James Potter in your bed. Tucked up to the chin under your frilly floral grandma sheets, he looked the picture of cozy.

"Don't bloody touch me, I mean it. I want to feel alone in my own bed," You snapped, sliding under the covers, pulling the doona similarly high up to your chin. You turned over to the centre of the bed to find James already on his side looking at you. You let it be for a moment, surprisingly enjoying the sleepover vibes you'd created.

"Okay this is weird now, the pillow's going up." You slammed a long decorative cushion in between the both of you, secretly smiling at the sleepy giggle James let out.

The first time you awoke it was hazy, still early in the morning with golden sunbeams streaming through your curtains. Warmth enveloped you, keeping you cozy despite the winter morning outside. You shifted to burrow deeper into your blankets when a groan came from behind you, startling you more awake as you recognised the feeling of muscular arms wrapped around your middle. It suddenly all came back to you, James walking you home, the paparazzi, you making an absolute fool of yourself. However, James was a portable heat source and extremely comfortable so you let yourself ignore everything that had led up to it, allowing yourself another few hours of blissful sleep.

The second time you woke up James was gone. That wasn't surprising given he definitely had early morning training, but you would reluctantly admit that it was a little lonelier in your bed than it usually was.

You didn't leave the house for the rest of the day, finally cleaning your apartment after much too long. Turns out all you needed was to be embarrassed in front of a guest to get you motivated.

Monday morning you weren't hungover anymore, but you were mourning the weekend that had passed much too quickly. Still, things were running smoothly enough; you didn't miss the tube and had snagged a seat, and your makeup was looking absolutely grand. You were absolutely thriving.

That was, until you crossed the threshold of the Sunday People offices and the jerks from the politics columns started bothering you, as if a Monday morning wasn't punishment enough.

"Meet anyone nice over the weekend, sweetheart?" One crowed from his desk chair, looking positively dickhead-ish in his too-small button-up.

"Or still on the clock maybe? We know you're always hunting for a good story." The combination of both remarks confused you, but you strutted past them with a quick glare in their general direction, your clicking heels producing enough attitude that you didn't need to say anything.

As you approached your own desk area, you had the distinct and uncomfortable feeling that everyone was looking at you. You couldn't think of why, but subtly wiped the edge of your lips in case it was foolishly smudged lipstick.

You even swore you heard one of the royal writers -- an awful woman maybe twenty years older than you -- say something about your 'promiscuity' and 'unprofessionalism'. You didn't know where it was coming from. You weren't friends by any means but you usually just stayed out of each other's way, you didn't throw around insults at your workplace. You glanced down at your outfit but nothing seemed especially revealing, the same button-up and pencil skirt you always wore if you weren't doing field work.

You were really starting to wonder why everyone was looking at you when even Lily was sending you pitiful glances. You had just made up your mind to say something about it when your boss came striding towards you, anger emanating in a way which only middle-aged men can do.

"What is this?" He slammed a Daily Mail tabloid down on your desk. The office was dead silent. You looked down at it, wholly confused as to what it could be -- your last article was approved without any troubles.

THE 'INSIDE' SCOOP? POTTER GETS COZY WITH REPORTER ON NIGHT OUT

And there, right under the brazen headline, was the stupid picture that Peter Pettigrew took. The two of you out on the street, you tucked into James' side with his arm around you. Your face wasn't totally visible, but anyone who already knew you would recognise the figure and fashion.

You could feel your face drop as you read the article, a barrage of slut-shamey insults and reports of how intimate you and James were out on the streets of London -- all entirely false, of course. When you'd finished reading the piece the whole office was staring at you, waiting to see how you'd react.

"It's a lie," You said quietly, trying to stop your hands from shaking as they rested on your lap. There was a pregnant pause as your boss processed what you were saying, clearly confused. None of your coworkers dared to speak.

"Bullshit," He replied, face blooming red as he decided you weren't being truthful. "That's you and that's James, there's no denying that. The whole bloody country will be able to see you two getting cozy on the street. How do you reckon this reflects on me, having your name and workplace published alongside your completely unprofessional affair?"

"I understand that it looks bad, but it's not what you think at all. J- uh, Potter was just helping me get home after a chance encounter because I wasn't feeling well, then he hid at my place because of all the paparazzi. Nothing happened." It was a weak explanation, even you could tell, even though it was completely true.

The arseholes over in Politics were already sniggering to themselves and you wished you could have ripped them a new one. Instead, you were cowering underneath your brutish boss.

"It's your word against Pettigrew's, and only one of you's been printed. You've been publicly humiliated and we're getting bad press for it."

Your boss had left you with the threatening promise that the issue would be brought up with your superiors and the whispered opinions of every single person you worked with. You choked out an excuse to get out of the office, taking the lift up to the rooftop to cry.

You had peace for a few minutes, getting the most embarrassing of the sobs out alone.

"Did you actually sleep with him?" If it was anyone else you probably would have snapped, yelling at them for being so insensitive. Marlene said it with such earnest curiosity and sympathy that you turned to face her instead. You were met with her and Lily, your very best friends who you were feeling especially lucky to work with at that moment.

"No!" You told them the full story, about getting sick at the club, James just being polite and walking you home, and Peter Pettigrew's terrible betrayal. Both women listened attentively, taking it all in.

"I thought you hated Potter," Lily said finally, "How'd it get that far in the first place? Usually you'd have ditched him in the first five minutes of being in his presence."

"I don't hate him." You studied your hands intently, observing the peeling red nail polish you should have reapplied yesterday. "I think he's annoying and obnoxious and I've always hated that he's never believed I could be a serious writer, but I don't hate him. He has his moments. Besides, why would I waste energy on hating Potter when I could hate Pettigrew with all my heart?"

"What a snake," Marlene spat, lighting a cigarette as she got comfy next to you. You and Lily both nodded. Peter was not only now a backstabber, but he'd been becoming increasingly insufferable over the years you'd all been writing.

He started out quite nice and was in your periphery of friends in the same way Remus and even James were, but as he'd gotten the job at his shitty tabloid magazine he'd become downright intolerable, always twisting what you'd said both in official articles and when gossiping with other friends. You had all had enough a few years ago and stopped inviting him places. Clearly, he'd held onto the grudge.

At his own work, James was facing the same rumours, though not nearly to the same peril. As he rocked up to his home pitch for the morning training session he was received with catcalls and high fives which made him nervous. No one was ever that happy to be working out on a Monday morning.

"Thought you hated her, mate."

"Maybe all she needed was a good shag to get the stick out of her arse."

"Woah! Can we take it back a few steps and not talk about women that way?" James sent a look over to one of his teammates.

"Sorry bud," He held his hands up in surrender, "Thought you wouldn't mind since you're always moaning about her." James' eyebrows knit together as he tried to piece together what the men were talking about, finally giving up and asking for a plain explanation.

He was met with a copy of Peter's article, outlining the flirty touches and 'electric chemistry' the two of you shared. Scanning it quickly James felt his face screwing up in disgust. Never mind that it obviously wasn't true, what a disgusting violation of privacy. He'd only recently launched into the spotlight, working his way up into the Premier League and then team captain in the last few years. He still didn't know how to handle the fame, especially invasive press like this.

His first priority was setting the ruth straight for his team, explaining exactly what happened and outlining strict instructions not to bring it up the next time they saw you.

"This is going to be a lot worse for her than me," He said, ending the conversation there.

He was correct. Rumours only spiralled from Peter's article. You'd stupidly created Google Alerts for your name; as a journalist, it made sense to keep track of where your writing was being shared. One day of this nonsense and you had all alerts silenced, not wanting to ever visit the internet ever again.

Apparently, this alleged affair was the most interesting thing young British people had ever experienced. The football star and the sports journalist. As you packed up to leave at the end of the day you were feeling sick to your stomach, already overwhelmed by the attention you never wanted on you.

Your face blanched as you approached the dizzying glass windows, a mass of reporters swarming the door. You didn't have to think hard to know they were waiting for you. You retreated to the restroom where they couldn't see you to rearrange your exit appearance. Pulling your coat tight against you and scarf up to cover the bottom half of your face, you plugged your iPod nano in to appear busy (and touched up your eye makeup for the inevitable photos that would make it back into the news cycle).

Physically and emotionally prepared you braved the crowd again, moving through with a polite but firm shove, making yourself a path down to the tube. You only snapped at one particularly rude paparazzi, giving him an instruction of where to 'stick it' as you hopped down the stairs to your station.

You ate a haphazard dinner by your computer, obsessively clicking through the various articles (and now personal blog posts) that had mentioned you. Every link made you feel worse about yourself.

The articles themselves were bad, most of them degrading you and congratulating James. Some had even produced old school photos of the both of you, even a few from your uni days when James was just starting out professionally and you were attending similar parties.

The articles were one thing, at least they usually had to be somewhat impartial. The blog posts by James' fangirls were downright cruel, calling you a slag based on a singular photograph and dragging your name through the mud.

You were drawn from your doom-scrolling by your cellphone ringing, Britney ringtone at least drawing a smile from you.

"Hello?"

"Get off the internet," Sirius Black said from the other end of the line.

"How'd you know?" You exited the webpage dutifully, already feeling the weight of the world's ugly words lifting from your shoulders.

"I figured. First time being written about isn't easy."

"It's certainly making me grateful I've never been so bitchy in my articles," You produced a hollow laugh, "I don't know how people can say these things about someone they've never met."

"That's why we like you," He said, "Mostly, at least. You stick to the sport and not our personal lives."

"Don't inflate my ego, Black, it's just because I don't like you guys," You joked, your mood already blooming back to somewhat more chipper.

"That's what I've been telling him!" You heard Remus call from further away, probably the other side of their living room. Sirius made an offended noise.

"Is Potter there?" You changed the topic, swirling your mouse around the window aimlessly, too afraid to check your work or personal notifications.

"He's out right now, calling someone official -- a publicist or lawyer friend. He's tearing his hair out about this, he feels awful for you." Both men explained, bickering about who exactly he was talking to.

"Yeah, I'm noticing only one of us is getting called a slut." You rolled your eyes even though they couldn't see you, balancing your cell between your shoulder and ear as you made a cup of tea. Sirius' barking laughter crackled through the speaker.

"Don't worry about it, love, everyone knows The Daily Mail is full of shite. Besides, I got that all the time."

"Yeah, in school! Not when you have a grown-up job to save face at!" Sirius conceded, apologising lightly. You shrugged him off; he was not the target of your anger at all.

"James'll be back soon, do you want to stay on the phone?" Remus asked and you answered without hesitation.

"No. I don't want to talk to him right now. We'll just find something to fight about, it's not worth it."

"He wants to make things better," Sirius offered, "He feels terrible."

"Maybe when I'm not so angry at the world." You left them with the offered compromise, hanging up to pity yourself for a few more hours before bed.

You didn't end up being fired over the incident, your bosses couldn't find a good reason to cite, but everyone in the office knew you were on thin ice. Most weren't afraid to highlight that fact. You were really starting to hate the Politics guys.

You just tried to keep your head down, diving into your articles and trying to keep in the higher-ups good graces. Amidst the drama though you'd been taken off all football coverage for the time being, banished to the irrelevant 'sports' you never even knew existed.

The week had taken you out of London to cover bizarre rural events like cheese rolling and bog snorkelling; not uninteresting but a big change of pace to the Premier League drama you were used to.

It did take your mind off of James and the media shitstorm for a day or two though. Being in a small town was much preferable to London, at least for the moment. The paparazzi weren't going to make the drive to find you for a single day when there were plenty more interesting figures to find in the city.

Plus, you were meeting the most interesting people. Though it was no Premier League final, everyone around was so wholly invested and excited by the competition that you couldn't help feeling the same, despite your initial hesitation.

Throughout the day it was just you, your notepad, your camera and the few thousand people who came to participate and observe. You'd already met and interviewed the woman who made the cheese, the previous year's winner and you were waiting impatiently to see who'd prevail now.

The paper was paying for you to stay overnight so you could chronicle the post-event celebrations, and you'd never been so glad to be working late. The key players in the day, organisers and competitors had all convened in the town's old pub, basically heaving under the weight of you all.

You held up your beer with the others despite hating the taste, grateful to be included in their toast to the day. You laughed as you tried to down it quickly, wanting the taste out of your mouth as soon as possible without refusing such a kind gift. Holding the pint up in the air victoriously you accepted the cheers of those around you, including the lovely middle-aged lady who made the ceremonial cheese and the man only a year or two older than you who'd won earlier.

"Finally letting your hair down!" He laughed and you smiled back, trying to remember his name. A glance down at your notepad said Drew. "Can I get you another?" You hoped he didn't notice your eyes widen, not expecting attention like that, not when you were allegedly working no less. You opened your mouth to agree when someone else answered for you.

"She doesn't like beer, thinks it tastes like piss." You whipped your neck around at the familiar voice, mouth dropping open at the sight of James Potter.

"What the hell are you doing here?" You asked, jovial politeness abandoned.

"You didn't remember that my family comes to watch every year?"

"Respectfully, why the fuck would I remember something like that?" You snapped, moving to leave and follow the much nicer Drew to the bar. James grabbed your hand lightly, stopping you from leaving.

"Wait, can we talk please?" You just looked at him for a long time, considering how much patience you had after a full day of work, then shrugged half-heartedly.

He led you outside and away from the crowd, both of you letting out a huff as you noticed the change in temperature.

"I liked your story on the bog snorkelling -- interesting stuff," James broke the awkward silence and you rolled your eyes aggressively.

"As if you read my pieces."

"I do!" He insisted, silently refusing the cigarette you offered. "I've read all your pieces, honest."

"But... huh? You're the one who always said I'd be a shit writer, I've spent years trying to get the negative internal James out of my head! You absolute dickhead!" You shoved his chest, turning back towards the door to return inside.

"Are you thick? I only said that because I fancied you!"

James' words rang heavy in the air, the street otherwise silent. You stared straight ahead of you for a moment, his words settling on top of you as you focused on the orange street lamp.

This whole time, this whole time, you'd been fighting the image you believed James had of you, striving to be better, never being satisfied, for nothing. This whole time you and James had been bickering and trading insults for nothing? And all his flirting... James' annoying charm and ironic compliments and innuendo-filled teasing were all genuine, after all this time? Suddenly your whole world had turned on its axis.

"What do you mean you said it because you fancied me? That is not normal!" You whirled around, accusatory finger pointed his way.

"I don't know! I thought I was supposed to! It wasn't cool to be a sap!" James argued back, running a hand through his already tousled curls.

"Jesus Christ," You muttered, "So what, you thought all my arguing back was just flirting?" James' silence told you all you needed to know.

"Come on, don't act like you didn't like it a little bit! As I recall you were always up for the fight, weren't you? You never avoided me or ignored me. Let's face it, you enjoyed it as much as I did." He stepped closer to you, breath visible in the cool air.

"I didn't enjoy it, what the hell are you talking about? Why would I enjoy trading schoolyard insults with some arrogant, idiotic football player who discredited the one thing I wanted most in my life?" Suddenly you were inches apart, heat emanating from both of you as you fought.

"Like you never said I was stupid for wanting to be a footballer? Face it, love, you're just as bad as me."

And suddenly, despite all your better judgement and every bit of sense in your head, you were kissing him. You didn't know exactly how it had happened, and if anyone were to ever ask you you would absolutely pin the blame on James but there you were, out in the middle of the street without a care in the world.

Every one of your senses was on fire, the smell of his cologne, the taste of his lips, the feeling of his soft curls under your fingers. Everything about James felt like he was made for you, like all the years of you revolving around each other, playing off the other's insult was just a lead-up, preparation for the very moment you kissed for the first time.

James' arms around you were warm, strong from years of working out and protective like a weighted blanket. One hand wrapped around your midsection and the other firmly on your neck you felt wholly surrounded by him, isolated in your own bubble of James.

It was probably a bad idea, but you weren't overly concerned with addressing that fact in any rush. It didn't come as you tilted your head to bring him even closer, it didn't come as you said hurried goodbyes in the pub and collected your coat, it didn't even come as you closed the door to your hotel room, undoing the buttons to James' shirt like they had a personal vendetta against you.

The admittance only came as you lay entangled with him, faces millimetres apart.

"Was that a bad idea?" You asked, genuine self-consciousness mixing with pragmatic anxiety.

"I mean, I quite enjoyed myself, love. Did you not?" James' cheeky smile made you snort out a giggle but you sobered up quickly, hitting him lightly on his toned chest.

"Don't turn this into a joke!" You ordered, "Have we just fucked everything up?" James just looked at you for a minute, taking in the sincerity in your voice and the depth of your eyes.

"Of course we haven't," He assured you. "Do you like me?"

"But--"

"Ah! Do you like me?" He reiterated and you paused, nodding shyly. "See? You like me and I like you. We'll figure everything else out. Start slow; baby steps."

"Baby steps," You agreed, sharing his smile. It really only hit you how much you actually liked James once you'd said it, finally noticing how he might've been looking at you the whole time.

You sent James off early in the morning, both of you needing to make it back to London quickly. You had to get your article written up and James had training. Thankfully there was no awkwardness in your goodbye; James had to rush to meet his parents to drive back by car and you had a train to catch. The only moment of hesitance came as you said goodbye, waving at each other with a giggle as James hopped down the steps. He hesitated halfway, turning to look at you with the glint of mischief in his eye that you'd become very well acquainted with.

In a moment he was at the top of the steps again, swooping in to steal another kiss. You rolled your eyes to hide an embarrassing smile, pushing him back in the direction he came.

"Haven't you got somewhere to be?" You asked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. James mimed twisting a knife in his chest but continued down the stairs nonetheless, giving you one last smile before he turned a corner and disappeared from your sight. You sighed like a schoolgirl then laughed at yourself, packing the last of your things to get home.

As you sat on the train, green landscapes passed you through the window and you felt your cell phone buzz from the minuscule pocket of your work trousers.

thinking of u :P <3

You grinned, looking out at the scenery so the people around you wouldn't be able to figure out your embarrassing secret. You felt like a teenage girl again, blushing over a text from the guy you had a crush on.

Everything turned to shit in a matter of hours after returning to London.

First, James' publicist made his statement. It wasn't necessarily terrible, but it really had no regard for you. No statement declaring you both on good terms, no coming to your defence or asking for the press to respect you. James looked like the hero saving a stupid drunk girl, and you still looked desperate for the most popular footballer in the country. You were decently sure it wasn't James' fault, but it did significantly dampen your lovesick giddiness.

The office was half-empty when you arrived, kitten heels clicking against the ground. You said a quick hello to Lily, still dutifully typing away at her computer. You followed her lead, exporting your notes to your desktop computer, formatting the piece and going through edits to have it ready for the next paper.

The sun was setting, sending orange and pink streaks through the sky when the door to your boss' office slammed open, echoing above the cubicles.

"You kissed him?" He yelled and you paled, knowing exactly what he was talking about but not how he knew. That problem was solved when he slammed the magazine down in front of you, no doubt just delivered by the skittery young receptionist running back to the elevator.

FACT OR FICTION? POTTER AND REPORTER CAUGHT SNOGGING AMIDST PUBLIC DENIAL

Fuck. That could not be worse.

The whole piece was essentially dragging your name through the absolute mud now that they had the confirmation there was something going on between you and James. The whole world thought you were sleeping to the top, or for the best scoop, and everyone hated you for it.

You looked up at your boss, words dying on your tongue.

"Please tell me that's not you," He said, grasping at the thinning hair on his head. You couldn't deny it.

"I..." You trailed off, searching for anything you could say to make it better. "I didn't mean to. And I'm being completely honest when I say that the first article was all bullshit. Things have... happened since then." You were already on the verge of tears. Even on an optimistic day, you couldn't have denied that this was utterly shit.

"Jesus." Your boss muttered, beginning to pace. "Look, I like you, you know? You do good work and you're never outta line, but I reckon the higher-ups are gonna be done with you. They wanted you out over the first article but I convinced them it was all speculation. This is proof and makes us all look bad that you're sleeping with someone you interview every other bloody week. Look, I'll do what I can in damage control, but I'd be bringing your stuff home tonight. I'm sorry."

How could he have just left you with that absolute bombshell? Effectively firing you, just like that? The tears had made their way up to your waterline, sitting there mocking you as you refused to let them fall. You submitted your piece and shut off your laptop, angrily stuffing your sparse personal decorations into your shoulder bag to get the fuck out of the building as fast as possible.

The paparazzi were waiting again, of course, like that was what you really needed. You pushed past them, making sure to land an extra hard stomp on Peter's foot, lips twitching into the beginnings of a smile as you heard him curse.

You sat on the tube, staring intently at your feet and trying desperately to think of anything but your current situation. You'd already been approached by someone who'd coughed out "Skank," which really hadn't done anything for your sour mood. All you wanted was to crawl into your bed and never emerge.

You wandered down the street between the metro station and your flat, hands shoved deep in your coat pockets.

"Hey!" Someone called and you glanced over on instinct, senses drawn by the interruption of an otherwise quiet evening. "You're the girl who kissed James Potter, yeah?" It was a girl still in her school uniform, probably sixteen or seventeen. You thought through your options quickly and shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Wicked. How was it?" She asked, chewing on pink gum. There was an aura about her that you liked, not judgemental like everyone else you'd met. If you were still in school you thought you might've been friends with her.

"Pretty good, I'd do it again." A cheeky almost-joke between the two of you, ironic given the shit that it had caused for you.

"We were talking about it at school. Pretty shit how they've treated you. Like they all wouldn't jump at a chance to get close to 'im." You liked the way that she didn't get any closer. Just the two of you standing face to face, divided by the empty road.

"Exactly what I've been saying," You agreed, tucking your hair behind your ears.

"If it was the other way around, if you were the famous one, James would be getting congratulated for getting with you, not ridiculed by the mindless gossip columns. All my friends think it's utter bullshit, stopped buyin' 'em and everything." You could have kissed her if that wasn't tremendously creepy. In five minutes, this schoolgirl had vindicated everything you'd been saying for the past week in a way no one else had.

"Thank you," You said, with more sincerity than you probably should have had for a complete stranger. The girl just shrugged with a smile, nodding before continuing down the street, the sound of her leather school shoes growing quieter with every step.

You felt it in your whole body every time you thought of the interaction for the next few hours, warmth spreading through your chest as you were reminded there were still good people around.

Your other reminder of that fact came with the sound of your buzzer, the laughing of Lily and Marlene echoing off the stone of your building. As you let them in curiously they presented armfuls of takeout, the smell of Chinese food immediately floating through your flat.

Lily took the responsibility of setting out the food while Marlene took control of your little television, flipping between channels until she found a suitable romcom starting.

You didn't speak about what had happened, no one mentioned James Potter or the bloody Sunday People. Yet, there was an air of tenderness that let you know the girls knew exactly what was happening and how you were feeling about it.

Still, there was something bothering you. You couldn't give it a name immediately, only a tugging in your stomach while the girls were entertaining you, but persistent nonetheless.

It wasn't until you were all crammed into your bed, the other two peacefully asleep, that you could identify the sensation. It was an overwhelming desire, a need to write that you hadn't felt in ages. It was the same feeling that had pushed you to be a journalist in the first place, an inspiration you typically only felt watching a magical soccer final.

You crept out of your bedroom, switching on your computer at the kitchen table, squinting at the aggressive blue light. And when a blank Word document appeared before you, you started writing. Obsessively, feverishly, words poured out of you at a rate that hadn't happened since you'd started at Sunday People.

The words of the school girl fresh in your mind, you started an article vastly different from your usual kind. Instead of strategies and highlights you dissected your own experience of the past week, saying everything you hadn't let yourself unload to the paparazzi outside your office (though with fewer curse words than they would have received). It could have been minutes or hours that you were writing and you wouldn't have noticed, eyes glued on the screen in front of you.

You didn't realise you'd fallen asleep until Lily woke you gently with a hand on your shoulder, offering a steaming mug of tea. It was light outside, the world already up and awake. You were glad it was a weekend as the girls didn't need to rush off to work, cooking a simple breakfast for you all to share.

"What've you written?" Marlene asked, the second part of her sentence unnecessary: since you don't have a job to write for. You shrugged, taking a bite of some eggs.

"Just something I had to get off my chest. Might see if I can sell it to someone to tide me over 'til I figure out what I'm doing with my life."

"Can we read?" You made a 'go ahead' gesture, the computer already open to the screen.

A WOMAN'S UNWILLING WEEK IN THE PUBLIC EYE:

How a woman always loses.

You sat in mild discomfort as Lily and Marlene read your piece in silence, anxiously awaiting their reactions. They weren't what you were expecting.

When they turned back to face you, Lily had tears in her eyes, red tones brought out in her skin. Even Marlene looked uncharacteristically moved, not at all the reaction you were expecting. Firstly, it was completely unedited so you suspected it was somewhat of a mess from your midnight haze. Secondly, it was more of a vent than anything, getting your hatred for invasive paparazzi off your chest. You thought you'd all laugh about it then move on with your days.

"Lils, what's wrong?" You didn't mean to laugh, it was more out of surprise than anything else.

"It's just, it's so raw and real. It's so unfair," She sniffled, wiping her eyes with the sleeves of her sweater.

"Jesus, you don't have to cry," You said lightly, "I'm fine! I hated that bloody place anyway."

"That's not the point," Marlene pointed out, "And Lily's right, this is really confronting stuff. It's great."

"Thanks," You mumbled, studying a lamp for something to do.

"Can we talk about James?" Your head snapped back to look at her.

"What about him?"

"Clearly there's been some... developments in your relationship, which we don't have to talk about--"

"Yet," Marlene interrupted.

"The point is that it looks like there's feelings involved now. What are you doing about them? Because if you publish that, it's putting everything out there, and even I can't tell how you feel about James right now," Lily finished.

"I don't want to talk to him," You said quickly, "I know it's not his fault but I can't think about him without getting mad. It's like I wrote; he ends up fine while I lose my job over one kiss."

"Understandable," Marlene nodded, "But if I know James at all, he'll be going crazy every minute that you ignore him."

You had much to consider when the girls left. The state of your career, your feelings for James, everything felt too big and overwhelming to make any decisions about. So, you took a nap.

The rest of your weekend was spent sending your then-edited article to as many newspapers and blogs as you could and hiding out in your flat, dodging James' calls.

Unfortunately, you liked him. You'd figured out that much. More unfortunately, he hadn't done anything to help you out in all this mess, benefiting from the press in a way that only England's favourite footballer could.

On Monday morning your piece was published. Not the biggest or most reputable newspaper, if your name hadn't still been trending it probably would have gone largely noticed. Instead, it blew up.

It had mixed reviews, of course, a tell-all so blatantly feminist would always attract its haters, but you were floored by the support it was receiving. Women were validating your experiences in a way you hadn't expected even a few days ago. It made you not so scared to leave the house anymore.

On Tuesday morning, Remus called you. You had the thought that it might have been James calling to grovel on Remus' phone, but you thought it was a smart enough idea you'd indulge anyway. If it was Sirius you wouldn't have picked up.

Instead, it was actually Remus.

"Come to the media room this afternoon," He said, evidently not wasting time with pleasantries.

"What?" You asked, caught off-guard.

"Just do it. Two o'clock."

"Remus, you know I don't have a job anymore, right?"

"Come off it, you know anyone on the team would let you in. You've got quite a name for yourself," He chanced a joke and you rolled your eyes.

"What, whore?" You retorted, only a little worried it would be true.

"I'm hanging up," Was all he said before the line went dead. You huffed, snapping your phone closed with all the attitude of a spoiled private schoolgirl.

Yet, at two o'clock you were standing in front of the media room at James' team's stadium, questioning all of your life choices.

The room seemingly went silent when you entered, dozens of pairs of eyes staring you down as you nervously stuck to the wall. You felt the derogatory, leering stares from all the sleazy men who'd been accusing you of sleeping with players since you first started in the field. It made you want to drop dead.

James made his way to the lectern up the front of the room with a cough, quieting down the chaos.

"Afternoon, everyone. I'm sure you're all wondering why I've called you here, I've got some things I'd like to address.

"As you all well know, I've been a frequent face in the papers lately, and not for my brilliant playing as it usually is. I recently got followed down a street after a night out looking after an old friend who happened to be a colleague of yours. Now I know that my godly good looks lead you to believe that I don't feel the same as all of you, but I do. And I'd like you all to consider how you'd feel if a man with a camera followed you all the way home after you'd been out for a night with your friends and a few cheeky drinks. It's pretty invasive if you can't imagine.

"Now, all this press hasn't really affected me. However, my dear friend has been subject to misogynistic articles, slut-shaming and harassment all because we were seen out together and a few hateful words from someone I used to consider a mate." You had no idea where this was going, but you were absolutely fascinated. James was more well-spoken, more mature and solemn than you'd ever seen him, though he still had his audience in the palm of his hand with his casual jokes. It was a masterclass in public speaking.

"If you haven't read any of my friend's pieces I would highly recommend them; she's got a brilliant voice and I personally read everything she publishes. However, I'm not here to talk about her work; I'd actually like to talk about her if you all don't mind."

What the hell was happening?

"In the midst of all these articles over the last week, I know you've all seen various pictures of us, including from secondary school. A few come to my mind, our graduation picture is a highlight, but I'd really like to talk about this one." James brandished a printed-out photo you recognised instantly.

"This photo was taken when we were twelve or thirteen years old at someone's party. That night, as you tend to do when you're young and bored, we played spin the bottle and ended up being each other's first kiss. I'm sure you're all wondering why I'm telling this story now, and it's because ever since that night as I have recently realised, almost a decade later, I have been embarrassingly, stupidly in love with her."

Your life wasn't real, it absolutely could not be.

"And though I've done some incredibly dumb things over the years, somehow she's managed to like me back -- at least a little. So I'm setting the record straight right now, she is not 'sleeping to the top' or trying to get a secret scoop out of me because I'm the one who's been chasing after her for twelve years.

"I know I've been rambling on for far too long so I'll wrap it up here, but I just wanted to end this little conference with a warning that if I see any more disgusting, hateful articles about her, you won't be getting another comment from me again. So nice to see you all!"

The room started to trickle out but you were stuck to your spot against the wall, frozen in absolute shock. You hardly even noticed the dirty looks you got from some of the people you'd been working alongside for years.

You spotted James in another corner, drinking out of a plastic water bottle and messing with his hair. A nervous tell.

The room was almost completely empty when you approached him, heels muffled by the carpeted floor.

"Hey stranger," You said softly, feeling way out of your depth. He turned in an instant, smile lighting up his face then melting away as it was replaced with an insecure frown.

"Was that okay? I didn't want to embarrass you but I wanted to step up and do something and protect you and--"

"Have you really loved me since we were twelve?" You cut him off bluntly.

"Every day since, as I've figured out," He agreed with a slight nod, glasses slipping down his nose slightly.

"What about all the flirting with Lily? The other girls over the years?"

"So obviously fake. Distractions. It's never been anyone but you, love."

You could only stare at him for a moment, your whole world shifting beneath your feet. James' face became increasingly worried, brow furrowing more the longer you remained unresponsive.

"If you don't feel the same that's totally alright, I still stand by what I did and I don't want you being harassed for--"

You'd always thought that cutting someone off with a kiss was ridiculously cheesy, reserved for shitty Hallmark movies with grown-up child actors who never got their big break. Turns out though, when you realise that your girlish crush on the star footballer has actually been a complicated love of twelve years, you don't really want to waste any more time.

When you woke up on Wednesday morning with James next to you, body heat keeping you cozy, you were convinced you had to be dreaming. When you eventually got up to check your emails and start your day the hypothesis was only solidified by the impossible email waiting in your inbox.

The fucking BBC wanted to hire you as a football commentator and sports writer. Your dream job at your dream company. If you let out an embarrassing squeal then that was none of your business.

You were still convinced you were hallucinating the whole thing until James came in with his biggest smile and that look in his eyes that told you he probably had a hand in getting your name on the BBC desks.

Even a few weeks ago you would have been mad at him, assuming it was mocking or he had ulterior motives. But it wasn't a few weeks ago anymore, and James Potter's whole, endless heart belonged to you. You weren't letting that go anytime soon.

[harrywavycurly]

Loving a Killer: Mistakes in a Hardware Store

Pairing: Killer!Harry x wife!reader

Masterlist: Here

CW: Harry is a tad bit over protective in this, threats of violence, semi angsty bits, language.

A/N: Harry had done something wrong and shockingly enough it has nothing to do with what he does for a living, so enjoy him trying to get you to forgive him✨

“Looking at it every five seconds isn’t going to make it magically start ringing you know that right?” Harry just ignores Mitch’s comment as he looks at his phone for the sixth time in the last five minutes, letting out a sigh when he all he’s met with is the date and time on his Lock Screen, no message from you or your name flashing across it like it normally does when you call him. “Trouble in paradise?” Mitch asks as he looks over and watches Harry run a hand through his hair as he tosses his phone onto his desk.

“She’s not talking to me.” Is all he says before he stands up and begins pacing the length of his desk while Mitch spins his chair around so his back is facing his own desk allowing him to watch his bestfriend have what he could only describe as a breakdown of some sort due to not having heard from you all day. Harry pauses and runs a hand over his face then just looks at Mitch over his shoulder. “I think she’s mad-”

“What did you do?” Harry lets out a groan as he walks over to his desk and places his hands flat on top of it and Mitch raises a brow at him when he notices him look down and close his eyes while letting out a deep sigh. “Harry tell me you didn’t-”

“You’ve got to stop assuming I’m walking around killing people without telling you.” Harry jokes as he lifts his head to send Mitch a glare. “I didn’t even really put my hands on anyone this time.” He explains making his friend just roll his eyes as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Then what exactly did you do?”

“She went with me to get some stuff so I can fix the shed door in the backyard and while we were at the hardware store some dude came up to her and started chatting her up so I might’ve threatened him a little.”

“You’re such a hot head man you need to relax and realize your wife is a catch so dudes are going to want to try to flirt with her.”

“What the hell did you just say?” Mitch doesn’t even flinch at how harsh Harry’s tone is as he straightens himself up and takes a step towards him with a quirked brow, Mitch is extremely familiar to this side of his bestfriend. “I’m just supposed to let people flirt with her and think they have some sort of shot with her?”

“They’ll know they don’t have a shot with her because she’ll let them know. She doesn’t need you to do it.” Mitch casually explains as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world but Harry just lets out a scoff and throws his hands up in air, clearly annoyed at the idea of having his wife be the one to tell creeps to leave her alone.

“She shouldn’t have to worry about telling wanks who want to chat her up to fuck off.” He snaps while he walks back over to his desk to reach for his phone. “I’m her husband it’s my job to do that for her.” Mitch rolls his eyes at his explanation as he watches Harry tap away on his phone.

“No it’s your job to trust her and let her handle herself in situations like that.” Harry can’t help but feel his heart sink as Mitch’s words hit him, he knows he can be a tad bit overprotective when it comes to you and that often leads to him overreacting in certain situations but he’s never thought about how him reacting the way that he does could make you feel as if he doesn’t trust you or think you can’t handle yourself.

“I do trust her.” Mitch just nods as he uncrosses his arms so he can stand up from his chair. “I just-you know how I am with her.” He says with a sigh as Mitch takes a step towards him so he can place a hand on his shoulder.

“I know how you are with her and I know it’s because you love her but sometimes it’s a little much. But the real question is how are you gonna fix this?” Mitch asks as he gives Harry’s shoulder a squeeze before letting it go. “I hear flowers work wonders.” He suggests making Harry send him a glare making Mitch chuckle because sometimes it’s glaringly obvious how single Mitch is compared to Harry.

“Already had a bouquet delivered to her office this morning since she only works a half day today.” He mumbles and Mitch just gives him a nod of approval as he watches Harry tap a few things on his phone before he locks it and slides into his back pocket. “I have to go. You good to handle the rest of the day without me?” Harry questions making Mitch just brush him off as he turns to head back towards his desk.

“Yeah I’m fine we have that Gavin guy tomorrow and today is just paperwork.” Harry just nods at Mitch’s answer before he gathers his keys and tosses his work bag over his shoulder. “Good luck.” Mitch says with a smile as Harry gives him one more glance before turning and heading out their shared office door and down the hallway for the door that opens to the stairs leading up to the lobby of the building the two of them work at.

Harry hates the feeling he gets when he walks inside the front door, he’s not met with the usual warmth that always radiates off of you and seeps into his body and relaxes him as it makes its way from his tired feet all the way up to his sore shoulders. Today he’s met with silence and the utter coldness that comes with it and it’s almost enough to send a shiver down his spine, but the only thing that keeps him from turning around and leaving is that he knows you’re home because he parked next to your car in the driveway and he is willing to do anything get your warmth back into the house.

He knows where you’re at, it’s just something that he can’t help with what he does for a living he knows how to keep track of people when they’re in relatively close proximity to him. So as soon as he walked in the front door he could see your foot hanging off the love seat tucked away in the corner of the living room near the bookshelf next to the floor lamp that you opted to turn on instead of the main light. He acts as if he didn’t see you as he drops his keys in the bowl by the door and slips his shoes off before he makes his way into the kitchen where he places his work bag on the table, he can feel your eyes on him from the living room and he takes that as a decent sign that you’re even wanting to look at him.

He runs a hand through his hair as he contemplates his next move, he knows you don’t like confrontation so you won’t be the one to tell him you’re mad at him so if he wants this to get resolved in a timely manner he’s going to need to be the one to initiate the conversation but he’s just not in a hurry to hear you say you’re upset with him. So Harry does what he thinks is the best thing to do in the moment because he knows you, he knows what you really need from him in this moment and he’s more than willing to give it to you if it spares him, at least for a few minutes from having to hear you tell him how unhappy he made you the other day. He turns around and quietly heads into the living room, he watches as you close the book he knows you stopped reading the moment he walked through the front door and place it on the side table near the lamp. As soon as he’s in front of you he reaches down and grabs your hands as he drops to his knees, he looks at you as he brings your hands to his lips and places sweet kisses to your knuckles and he doesn’t miss the slight shade of pink your cheeks get at his actions.

“I’m sorry baby.” He makes sure his words come out nice and clear so you don’t miss them between little pecks to your knuckles. “I know I made you upset yesterday and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have threatened him or-”

“We’ve had this conversation before haven’t we Harry?” You ask making Harry just swallow before nodding his head and he swears he feels his heart drop to his stomach when you turn and look away from him. “I know you want to protect me from all the creeps and jerks but Harry yesterday you-”

“Don’t say it.” He cuts you off as he lets your hands slip out of his as he stands up. “Please don’t say it.” His voice is low as he takes a small step away from you as he feels as if his world might be crumbling down around him as the thought of you telling him you were afraid of him bounces around in his head.

“Harry look at me.” He can’t help himself as he does what you ask because even though his whole world may feel like it’s on the verge of falling apart he’s still your husband, the man who hasn’t ever really been able to not do whatever it is you ask of him. “I’m not afraid of you.” He feels your hands on his arms slowly running up until they are cupping the sides of his face making sure he can’t look away from you. Your words take a moment to sink in through the layers of sheer panic and anxiety running through his mind but when they finally do Harry lets out a deep breath and feels as if his legs could give out at any moment with the amount of relief that washes over him.

“I was going to say that in that moment you were being one of the jerks you try to protect me from all the time.” All Harry can do is just nod because you’re right, he was being exactly the type of person he tries to keep you away from and honestly Harry is still recovering from the fact you admitted you aren’t afraid of him so a nod is the best he can do in the moment. “You threatened someone’s life all because he was asking me if I had any recommendations for a good weather resistant wood varnish.” When Harry rolls his eyes he instantly knows it’s a mistake because he feels your hands drop from his face making his lips turn downward into a slight frown while you take a few steps away from him.

“I’m sorry sweetheart but that was clearly a line and he was trying to flirt-”

“So him flirting with me means you need to come in and grab him by his shirt and tell him that if he so much as looks at me again the next project you’ll be working on will be his coffin?” Harry can count on one hand the amount of times you’ve raised your voice since he’s met you, each time has almost always been towards him and he hates that he’s the one who gets you to the point where you lose your ability to speak in your usual soft and gentle tone and are left with no choice but to make your voice louder and a little meaner in hopes it’ll help get your point across more clearly.

“I didn’t mean to grab him. That was a mistake.” He doesn’t make an attempt to get closer to you even though every part of him wants to reach out and pull you into him, he wants to give you the space you need to tell him exactly how his actions made you feel and he knows you won’t be able to do that if he crowds you. And as much as he normally loves to play dirty and use his knowledge against you, this time he wants you to get everything out because he wants to be better for you so if he has to stand here and take it for a few more minutes then so be it.

“Was that the only mistake you made yesterday?” He wants to say he really didn’t make any mistakes yesterday but he doesn’t, he just rubs his lips together as you place a hand on your hip letting him in on the fact you’re getting annoyed at this conversation.

“Please just answer me because I don’t want to argue with you anymore but I need to know if you really think that’s the only mistake you made yesterday.” Harry can tell by the slight pleading tone of your voice that you’re beginning to break, your walls of anger are starting to crumble and he can’t help himself but feel a small sense of relief because he can work with this, he can find a way to make your walls come down and get you to forgive him.

“No.” He answers as he takes a small cautious step towards you making you raise an eyebrow at him as a signal to have him elaborate on his answer. “I shouldn’t have threatened him or raised my voice in the store because I know how you feel about causing scenes in public.” He adds as he takes another small step towards you and he can’t help the small smirk that forms on his face when he sees your hand drop from your hip as you playfully roll your eyes at the mention of causing a scene.

“Anything else?” Your voice is much softer now and Harry feels like this is a good time to take a chance so he reaches an arm out so he can place a hand on your hip and he smiles when you don’t make any moves to wiggle out of his grasp or bring your own hand down to push his away.

“Letting you give me the silent treatment for the rest of the day. That’s probably the biggest mistake I made because you know how much I love hearing you talk.” Now normally you’d take that as a tease of some sort but Harry’s not an idiot, or at least not in this moment so he’s sure to sound as serious as possible without ruining the lighthearted mood that’s beginning to form between the two of you.

“You love hearing me talk?” Harry just gives you a smile as he ever so gently pulls you closer to him by his hold on your hip.

“Your voice is one of my favorite sounds.” He admits without a single drop of hesitation because it’s the truth. “Especially right before you fall asleep and it’s this mixture of a whisper and just mumbles of nonsense.” His eyes stare into yours as he raises his free hand so he can brush a few strands of hair out of your face and back behind your ear. “But my favorite is when it’s got this hint of excitement to it like when you’re telling me about a new book you found that you’re now obsessed with or better yet the rants you go on about books you hate those are very fun and your voice gets this almost twinge of absolute disgust to it that I always find entertaining because it’s so rare you find something you don’t like.” He keeps his hand on the side of your face cupping your jaw, gently running his thumb over your cheek.

“So really baby it about killed me not getting to hear your voice for a whole day all because I was an asshole and couldn’t handle some guy flirting with you in a Home Depot.” He wants to pull your face towards his and seal his words with a kiss but he doesn’t, he’s a gentleman after all and knows it’s only right to let you decide when he’s earned his kissing privileges back sees as you just broke the day long silent treatment you were giving him not even five minutes ago.

“His name was Brad.” Harry’s grip on your hip tightens a little while he other hand falls from your face as you give him an unwanted detail of your encounter yesterday. “Maybe if you knew that before you went all crazy on him you would’ve reconsidered? Because who’s going to pick some dude named Brad over their hot husband named Harry?” He just chuckles as you give him a playful smirk while reaching your hands up to grab both sides of his face.

“Well when you put it like that.” He jokes as he feels you begin to pull his face down towards yours. “I really am sorry sweetheart I swear it won’t happen again.” He whispers as he bumps the tip of his nose into yours making you smile.

“I know you are and that’s why I forgive you.” That’s all Harry needs to hear before he allows himself to close the gap between his lips and yours, he feels you smile against his lips as you pull him even closer to you when you feel him try to pull away.

“I love you.” He mumbles between kisses making you giggle as your hands go from his face down to his chest so you can grip onto his shirt while his hand holds onto the back of your neck.

In this moment Harry knows that the two of you are going to be okay, that while you may hate how he over reacts and gets a little too protective at times, you still love him and haven’t decided to give up on him or at least not yet. So Harry decides right then and there that he’s going to actually try to be better, but while he really will try he can’t promise he won’t mess up every now and then because he’s still Harry, and when it comes to you he doesn’t think he’ll ever be okay with people getting too close or being too friendly.

[mochiwonz]

✉ - won the boyfriend lottery ♡

𓍯𓂃 content : insecure fem!reader x sweet bf!ni-ki , FLUFF , skinship (hugging , kissing , hand holding etc) , cursing , petnames (nini , baby , my love etc) , reader loves the scent of vanilla , lots of lovee <33

𓍯𓂃 word count : 2.1k

𓍯𓂃 note : i really reallyy think that as much as ni-ki is playful and likes to tease ,, he would definitely be the most caring, gentle, and understanding boyfriend ever :3 i hope that atleast some of you can find this fic relatable (i know i can) and i hope you enjoyy ♡♡

You look in the mirror, you're wearing a fitted top and flared jeans. Complimenting the outfit, you're wearing bow earrings and pretty rings, and of course some cute makeup. You're supposed to be feeling all pretty and confident, right? But actually, you're feeling the exact opposite. It's like the longer you look at yourself, the uglier you get. Fuck, why is it so hard for you to feel pretty?

Giving up, you change back into your baggy basketball shorts and xl baggy tee.

You've always preferred baggier clothes because 1. they were more comfortable and 2. people don't pay attention to your body. One could say that you were quite insecure. You've never felt gorgeous, at most you've felt okay, average, or mediocre. You've always found something wrong with your face, your uneven eyes, the one bump that won't seem to go away, or your dark circles. You wonder how those pretty girls do it. How they just walk around flawlessly, wind blowing through their hair perfectly and their skin basically glowing. Gosh, you really hated how you looked and how insecure you were. You thought you could never be loved by someone, ever.

That was until your boyfriend, ni-ki appeared in your life, and you couldn't be more grateful. It was like the universe knew when you needed him the most and boom, there he was.

Of course, you were still very insecure, it was nothing compared to how you were one year ago. Ni-ki had always made it very clear that he understood you and that you were absolutely beautiful, even if you couldn't quite see it yet. Everytime you felt insecure, he could immediately tell and instantly went to comfort you. Everytime that you felt unsure about anything, he would reassure you. He made you feel understood and seen, something you hadn't felt since...well...ever. People would always tell you, "you don't need to be insecure" or "just stop being insecure" as if it was really that easy.

Fast forward to today, it was your guy's first anniversary as a couple. You still remember the day he confessed, you also remember being so confused. How did someone as beautiful and perfect as him end up being attracted to you?

To put it simply, you were the most gorgeous human being he had ever laid his eyes on. The first time that he laid his eyes on you in senior year of highschool, he knew that you were the one. He never expected such a beautiful girl to be so insecure, but that didn't matter to him. Everyone worried about something, your worry just happened to be your appearance and overall self. He understood. He truly did.

Anyways, you and ni-ki agreed on just going out to get his favorite gongcha milk tea and come back to your place to cuddle and watch an anime. You guys didn't care if it wasn't that "special", because all you really wanted to do was be in each other's presence.

You didn't wanted to be perceived as the hot boy's ugly girlfriend. That's why you were trying to dress up like the pretty girls you've seen on social media. We already know how it went, and now you're in baggy basketball shorts and a baggy tee.

What if ni-ki doesn't like it? What if he thinks you look bad today? Should you just put more effort and atleast try to look "good"?

"y/n, baby, you're so fucking gorgeous. you don't have to dress up and put on alot of makeup for me to find you beautiful. you could be bald and i'd still find you so gorgeous. and don't worry about what other people think of you, why does it matter at the end of the day?" you remember him telling you.

Right, ni-ki loves you for who you already are, and you try to remind yourself of that everyday. Of course, it's hard- but you're trying.

Snapping you out of your thoughts, you hear a knock on your door and a voice from outside. A very familiar voice, one that you could recognize literally anywhere.

"babyyy it's meee" ni-ki says from the other side of the door, and you already know he has the cutest smile on his face right now. He might be 6ft and all, but he's your giant baby.

"coming!!" you exclaim while excitedly running to the door, trying not to slip. Let's just say you've slipped a few times before.

Opening to the door, you're met with a smiling ni-ki. And wow- he looked so good. He was wearing an oversized black hoodie with some red designs on it and some baggy jeans. On top of that, he also had some silver rings and a silver chrome hearts necklace on and honestly, you were fighting the urge to lunge at him right now. God knows how you were controlling yourself.

He quickly brings you into his embrace, engulfing you in his warmth.

"my baby, i missed youuuu" he says in a sweet tone of voice, still hugging you. He was always so sweet to you, you truly think you won the boyfriend lottery.

You look up at him with hearts in your eyes. "i missed you too ki" you respond, talking in the same sweet tone of voice.

"here, wait- we should go inside, i still need to get ready" you tell him. He nods while intertwining your guy's hands and lets you drag him inside. To be honest, he didn't think you needed to get ready. You were always gorgeous in his eyes, no matter what you were doing.

You bring him into your bedroom, and he instantly smiles at the familiar scent of vanilla. Of course, he was very well aware of your love for vanilla. The way you had 4 different type of vanilla candles on your bedside table and so many different vanilla perfumes was so endearing to him. Quietly, he sits down on the edge of your bed and watches as you go to quickly grab some clothes. He quickly notices that these clothes aren't very you.

"baby, since when did you start wearing such fitted tops? i mean, don't get me wrong- i bet you'd look so good. but i'm just wondering" he asks curiously.

"oh," you say quietly "i just wanted to look pretty for you"

Ni-ki slightly frowns at your words. He wished you knew how effortlessly beautiful you already were. He gets up from your bed and walks towards you, wrapping his large arms around your waist and resting his chin on the top of your head. He makes eye contact with you through the mirror and pulls you closer to his chest.

"my love you always look so pretty. trust me. just wear whatever you're comfortable in, okay?" he tells you in a soft voice. He kisses the top of your head and smiles at you. God, he's so good at reassuring you. You're so in love with this man.

Feeling less pressured after hearing what he said, you put down the clothes and instead, put on one of the oversized hoodies that he lent you. Your favorite one actually, it smelt just like him. After putting it on, you have a comfortable smile on your face, visibly showing that you feel much better. Ni-ki notices the instant change in your energy, and he loves seeing you like this.

"my girl, you're so cuuteee i love you so much" he says while admiring you. He turns you around so that you're facing him and he just stares at you, admiring your beauty in all is glory. Getting shy, you bring your face down and bury it in his chest.

"nini i love you too my big baby" you tell him as you finally look back up at him and go on your tippy toes to give him a peck on the lips. You loved his pretty plump lips, he was really the most beautiful man ever. He giggles and pulls you closer to kiss your forehead. He loved you so so much.

"you're so beautiful" he says as he brushes your hair away from your face, "god i could stare at you forever my pretty girl"

You could already feel how hot and red your cheeks were, you always got like this because of him. He always said such nice things to you and always showered you in compliments, what did you do to deserve such an amazing boyfriend?

"i love you" you tell him while smiling "we should go to gongcha now though, they might be closing soon"

Ni-ki completely forgot about the boba, shit. Agreeing with you, he grabs your tote bag for you and opens the door for you.

"for you m'lady" he says playfully while bowing at you. You giggle and bow back at him, matching his playful energy. He finds you so adorable, and so he ruffles your hair and closes the door behind him.

He quickly intertwines your guy's hands and sways them back and forth. He was always so happy around you, your energy and presence just made him so happy.

Once you guys got back to your place, you decided that you wanted to have a skincare night. You might not be the best at makeup, but you loved your skincare. He, of course- found you so adorable. And of course, he let you do his skincare. He'd let you do whatever you wanted, honestly.

You quickly run to your bathroom and grab your skincare, face masks, and skincare headbands. Ni-ki looks at you, slightly confused, not understanding why you had so many things in your hands. He helps put the items onto your bed and sits down, waiting for you to do his skincare. You wipe his face down with micellar water and put the face mask on him. He just stares at your beautiful face, enjoying how close you are to him. Swiftly, he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you onto his lap.

Shit, your face was hot again. Ni-ki giggles and gives you a kiss on the cheek.

"kiiiii" you whine, "you got the face mask serum on my face"

"sorry baby, you're just too cute" he teases and gives you another kiss, but on the lips this time.

You smile fondly at him and start putting your own face mask on, asking ni-ki to help you. Of course, he helps you and notices how big his hands are compared to your face. He loves it. You were so tiny compared to him.

Once it was on, you take out your phone to take a selfie. You both loved taking pics together, so that you could look back and laugh at them. After taking the picture with him, you pull out your wired earphones and give him one of them. Another thing you guys loved to do together was listen to music. You both enjoyed music, although you didn't dance like him- you still loved it just as much.

Getting comfortable, you both get under the comforter and he wraps his arms around your waist, your back facing his chest. He rests his head in the crook of your neck and pulls you closer to him. (if that was even possible) He loves how you smell, he could really smell your vanilla shampoo and conditioner now and he almost melts. He feels so relaxed, and you do too. You could hear ni-ki's breathing because he was right next to your ear, and you loved being so close to him. By the way he was breathing, you could tell he was asleep.

Slowly, you shuffle your body around so that you're facing him now, chest to chest. You gently take off the face mask and pat the serum into his skin, making sure you doesn't wake him up. You observe his beautiful features, his pretty eyelashes, his pouty lips, and your favorite- his pretty moles. You loved his moles, especially the one on his chin. He always told you how beautiful you were, and you realized you didn't tell him enough about how absolutely handsome he was, inside and out.

You promised yourself that from now on, you would tell him at least 100 times every. single. day.

You brush your fingers through his pretty hair and lovingly trace his features with your smaller hands. Without realizing, your eyes start to get glassy. Ni-ki was so beautiful on the outside, but also so beautiful on the inside. He always made sure you were doing okay mentaly and reminded you of how beautiful of a person you were.

After staring at him for (at least) 5 whole minutes, you take off your own skincare mask and decide to just call it a night. You really didn't want to get out of this comfortable position.

Ni-ki is so special to you, and you love him so fucking much. He's had such a positive effect on your self esteem and mental health and you're forever grateful. He was your soulmate, you were very sure of that. Nobody compared to him, and nobody was ever going to compare to him.

Honestly, you won the boyfriend lottery.

this is the longest fic i've ever wrote and surprisingly, i don't feel too bad about it! pls reblog if you enjoyed <33 my other works are here :D

[certifiedsexed]

hey there! i don’t mean this in bad faith at all, and i’m not trying to use a term that’s a fascist dogwhistle. i promise i’m just confused😭

so i’m not a guy, nor have i ever been perceived as one, but in one of your recent posts, you said that men can’t experience oppression solely based on the fact that they’re men. which was kind of confusing to me — i don’t think you’re wrong, i think it’s me but i don’t know how to get to how you see it like that.

because in my experience, men can experience oppression because they’re men, although i don’t know if i’m saying that right or conflating the meanings of certain terms. i’m probably wrong, and would just love some clarification?

for example, my brother and i were always held to different standards growing up — it was expected of me to always cry and be emotional, and i was a ‘stone cold bitch’ if that wasn’t the case, but if my brother wanted to show negative emotions like sadness he was treated like there was something wrong with him too. and i know it wasn’t my brother — i spend a lot of time working with my high school’s diversity team, and in a lot of the events we organise, guys talk about how they feel enormous pressure to be angry and never sad, and to have stereotypically masculine interests and never deviate from that norm.

i also know men who’ve struggled to get jobs such as teaching as those are viewed as ‘female’ jobs and it’s a common view that men who want those jobs are ‘only in it to be around kids’. i’ve heard many women around me perpetuate sentiments like that, so i know they’re not making it up, even if it isn’t equal to the systematic oppression women face in almost every aspect of their careers.

i’m not providing these examples to prove you wrong, since i do think you’re right. i’m hoping that a window into the way i’ve always thought might help you clarify this in a way that can help me to change my mind, since i just think i’m lacking some clarity or context here. i think i’m conflating abuse and stereotypes with oppression, but i’m really not sure. any advice would be really appreciated!

i’m so sorry if this comes off badly, i don’t mean it that way. i’m just trying to learn, i promise i’m not trying to promote the kind of hate and close mindedness you’ve been seeing in your inbox as of late.

Hi! As always, I do not mind answering genuine questions!

The things you're talking about growing up and seeing boys around you pressured to present only certain emotions, that's part of the patriarchy!

Certain emotions are supposed to be "feminine" and thus boys shouldn't show them, while girls are often always considered "emotional" in some fashion. That's not oppression based on those boys being men that you're talking about.

It's the backlash that the patriarchy, and by addition trans/misogyny has on men. It's boys being pressured not to show certain emotions because those emotions are "feminine" and they're supposed to associate feminimity with weakness and shit.

What you're talking about there is also trans/misogyny!

The idea that men who do things perceived as feminine are predators, the idea that specific jobs are "female" jobs [while even in those specific female jobs, men are generally paid better and find it easier to get into those jobs than women trying to get into traditionally "male" jobs"]

[Though obviously this varies based on race and whether they're trans, etc, etc.]

To be a little more clear, all of the things you're talking about don't primarily affect cis men/boys. They fuck up transfems, because it's trans/misogyny.

You're right! It's not systemic oppression.

You might wonder if it's social oppression, which is also a no. Social oppression would require a historical/systemic oppression behind it. But that doesn't exist in this case.

What it is is the common issue oppressors run into. While they benefit greatly from oppression, there is also backlash they face from their own systems of oppression.

Like white people who fall into suicide cults trying to work towards white supremacy, or TERFs who fall into groups where they slowly pick each other off as they discover they're not all exactly the same and wind up accusing each other of not being "real" women, systems of bigotry simply do not work out perfectly even for the oppressors.

They never do.

To create the patriarchy, you must establish trans/misogyny, you must establish intersexism and you must push people to conform to those ideals, even if they hurt your own.

It's similar to how white supremacy can harm white people, despite white people obviously not being oppressed racially. The backlash of oppression hits even the oppressors sometimes.

Suppression, as a term, would honestly work far better to describe what you're talking about.

So yes, it's stereotyping, yes it's abusive to tell your children not to show/feel their emotions but it's not oppression based on these guys in your life being men! It's part of how trans/misogyny, transphobia and intersexism are enforced.

I understand exactly where you're coming from! It doesn't sound bad and I genuinely don't mind answering questions! Especially since you've got some good ones!

I'm not sure if I rambled too much to explain this properly but I hope this helps! Let me know if you have any other questions and/or need me to clarify anything here. <33

[aerospectrum]

“I think Cas is already happy with you; I know you make him happy. but what about you, are you happy?” Chuck asked. “I think she ignored him a lot and he withdrew into himself. When I asked if he was happy with her he insisted he was.” Chuck explained without sharing too much, not entirely positive what Cas had told her and not wanting to cause uncomfortable conversations later.

“I think he wants to know he can keep you safe from things he can’t control but he means well… I didn’t see that with Kristen. He was always quiet and waited for the ok from her.” He looked at Madison then pulled a seat at the small kitchen table out for her to sit. “when you say she treated him poorly.” Chuck answered, thinking Castiel had told him the extent. “Is there more I should’ve known about?”

Cas wondered what Lucifer would have to say once they were alone. Halfway off the porch steps Lucifer paused and looked at kris; Cas went down fast on one knee. “what the fuck was that for!?” He groaned out, doubled over himself, dropping one hand to balance himself on the pavement. It took him a second to recover from the way his lungs constricted and his stomach imploded on itself. He didn’t want to lean up and drop his other hand- he didn’t even want to attempt to stand just yet. Fuck.

“It’s pathetic really. How everyone else doesn’t see it- the whole picture, the real you.” He seemed enraged, but so eerily calm. He yanked Cas’ other arm away and with a second kick to the groin Kris decided she was satisfied which meant Lucifer was too.

Lucifer and Kris both returned to the kitchen in half the time Lucifer had given her and obviously without Castiel-- left out to sit on the front steps. Or so they thought. Their expressions were cheery and vibrant… content. Until Kristen set her eyes on Madison and lost it. She pulled her arm back and like a slingshot— the loud smack of skin on skin reverberated in the room and she raised her other hand to wind up and smack Madison again; the air whistling sharp with speed.

“Next time maybe you won’t be such a who-!” Her words were immediately silenced, a look of wide eyed anger and confusion then shock when she realized Cas was grabbing her arm so tight she thought he might snap the bone in two. “Get your fucking hands off me you— you…” her words floundered and her face burned red— surprisingly no flames engulfed her yet.

“if you ever touch her again. I’ll kill you.” Cas threatened. His voice was too calm, his grip unrelenting even as she yanked and tugged- hissing and spitting like a cat with its paw stuck in a trap. His eyes were focused on her, then to Chuck who was telling him to let go, to let go he’d get Kristen out of there just let go. His eyes raced from Chuck to Madison, to Kristen to Lucifer back to Chuck, back to Madison. But he couldn’t let go— he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t let her hurt Madison again. He couldn’t. He didn’t protect Madison like he was supposed to..

Kristen had gotten to her before he could get back inside and the ferocity of his rage wouldn’t let him see clearly. His grip tightened and Kristen yelped in pain. His blue eyes dulled, washed out by a memory of a body on the kitchen floor, a gun in his hands… his brothers with hands over their ears staring at him. Chuck was still pleading for Cas to let her go while Gabe was trying to hold off Lucifer. Balthazar stood there unsure what to do; strike up the worlds most awkward conversation with Madison or just watch it all go down in flames?

Finally Cas let her wrist go and she laid down a barrage of close fisted hits against him; but it was like he didn’t feel a single one. His eyes stayed locked on Madison and he wasn’t sure when it happened but Lucifer was wringing out a cool towel and bringing it back to Madison for her face. Kristen was nowhere to be found— they were in the living room, sitting on couches- everyone was talking even the tv was on, Chuck was pacing, kneeling in front of Madison to ask her how she was and what she needed or what she wanted him to do, did she want the police or want to go to a doctor, maybe he was overboard but he didn’t expect his house to become a zoo— and Cas couldn’t hear a thing.

Madison could only purse her lips in guilt & avert her eyes. Even though she was guilty, her index hooked onto cas’ in a comforting way. Madison gave him a little side eye & a wink.

“It’s really up to cas. I don’t mind staying, but I know he’s working on a few projects. I don’t know how late he wants to be out.” She gave his hand a squeeze to comfort him. If he needed her to lie for him, she would. All he had to do was say the word.

There was a pause before Madison smiled, “oh I’d love to come over & spend some time w/ you. I could talk about work all day, you’d have to pay me to shut up.” A small laugh left her & she leaned her head on cas’ shoulder.

Lucifer asked to take her cas away & Madison defensively clutched him. She didn’t want cas going anywhere w/ them. Certainly not near Kris. But he reluctantly left the room leaving Madison to Gabriel & chuck. “So… be honest. I can take it… did you guys ever like Kris for cas? Do you think…. He can be happy w/ me?”

She peeked over her shoulder making sure no one was near. “Did anyone know how bad she treated him?”

[pretty-blkgirl]

Soul’s Desire [Ch. 33]

- Masterlist -

~~~~|~~~~

“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head when you fell?”

“We can go back to the hospital if you need to”

“I swear to God I’ll get Eunji fired, she went too fucking far”

“Want some more food?”

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“You sure you’re not concussed?”

“Security stopped me from going onstage when I saw you fall”

“You have a bruise on your arm”

Chan was nice enough to allow you some much-needed silence on the car ride to Han and Lee Know’s dorm, but as soon as you two stepped foot in the door, the other seven of your soulmates swarmed you.

Soon, eight worried men were surrounding you, offering food, questioning you, or ranting about how they were going to avenge you.

Han knew half the reason you were upset was because of the backlash you were getting, so that was the main topic after the boys ensured you were full and well-hydrated.

“This is so fucking frustrating” Felix, the usual peacemaker, seethed. You noticed he and Chan spoke English when they were pissed. Their accents were heavier than usual as they ranted to one another, offering solutions to your problems.

“Baby we’ll take care of this, don’t even worry about it” I.N sighed, giving you a look of sympathy

“How so? It’s not like you guys can tell people to stop talking shit about me”

“I can” Hyunjin shrugged, “And I will. Fuck my idol image, I’ll do whatever it takes to defend you”

You smile, “I appreciate that baby, but that’ll do more harm than good”

“A dating rumor will start. Dispatch will eat that shit right up” Seungmin noted, “Then she’ll get more hate. Then the company is involved, internal investigations, hiatuses maybe”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, his irritation apparent but he nodded, agreeing that speaking out may not be the best solution.

“All we can do is let this shit blow over. I mean, people are talking shit but I saw a bunch of Charms defending me”

“I’ve seen some Stays defending you too” Han pointed out, “Actually, anyone with sense is defending you”

“There shouldn’t be a need to defend her in the first place. People are mad because she had a medical emergency. That’s so stupid” Changbin ranted

“People are stupid” Chan sighed, frustration clear in his voice, “What do you wanna do y/nnie? How do you want to handle this?”

Eight pairs of eyes stared at you as you thought about the question. Really, what could you do?

“It can’t be helped” You conclude, “This is just… one of the downsides of being an idol. It sucks but I just gotta deal with it.”

“I’m so sorry baby” Felix frowns, tears welling up in his eyes. You dubbed Felix the “feeler” in the group. Whenever you felt like crying but you didn’t want to let those tears out, he’d do it for you. Same for if you wanted to laugh, or scream. He gave you that relief.

“I feel like we can at least get Eunji fired” Han groaned

“She said it was an accident, plus I can’t blame her entirely. I hadn’t eaten anything the entire day, part of it was my fault too”

“It wasn’t a damn accident” Changbin huffed, “And don’t blame yourself for anything. However, I’m gonna make it my mission to make sure you’re eating and drinking like you’re supposed to”

You nod, knowing when Changbin is serious about something, nothing is going to stop him from doing it.

“You know what? How about we all turn our phones off and just spend time together? No outside distractions, and especially no social media” Hyunjin suggested

Everyone agreed, but you made sure to send a message to your members and manager, letting them know your whereabouts.

I.N. ran to the kitchen and came back with a large plastic bowl. It had little cartoon cats on it, so you knew who it belonged to.

“Everyone put their phones in the bowl. We’re having a soulmate bonding night”

“You sound like Felix” Minho rolls his eyes but is the first to hand over his phone. The rest of you follow suit, with Hyunjin being the last one to do so.

“Let’s pop some popcorn and watch a movie” You suggest, “I’ll pick the movie”

“Nuh uh y/nnie” I.N. protests, “You have a habit of picking sad movies. We aren’t crying tonight”

“Let’s watch a scary movie,” Seungmin says

“Hell no” Chan and Felix seem to say at the same time

“Romance then” Hyunjin smiles

It’s you who sighs this time, “Hyunjin, please. You know I adore you, but nobody wants to see Titanic….again”

“I say we watch an Action Movie,” Changbin says excitedly, “Jurassic Park?”

“We watched that last time” Han whines

“Let’s just do a comedy” Minho grunts, grabbing the remote and picking a random streaming service

You all settle on a random movie you enjoy and the boys have never seen it.

The spacious living room was filled with laughter, sounds of sneaky kisses, and the crunching of popcorn as your movie marathon went on.

At some point, the movies stopped, and you all had sleepy conversations that lasted way longer than they should have.

Before you knew it though, you were curled up in Minho’s bed, wearing only a shirt you stole from his drawer.

You slept in a starfish position, leaving Minho to sneak off to Han’s room to get a chance at a comfortable night’s sleep.

The rest of the boys went to their respective dorms, all giving you a kiss goodnight before leaving.

You dreamt of sunny days and starry nights, lying on the grass with eight familiar faces huddled around you.

It was the best sleep you had gotten in years.

~~~~|~~~~

Taglist: @chuuyaobsessed @h0rnyp0t @prttyxbby @yukichan67 @hanniemylovelyquokka @xxeiraxx @loveforlee444 @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @cunninglibrarian @holly-here @galaxy4489 @hyunmikim @yougottobekittenme @hyeon-yi @katsukis1wife @multi-fandom-nightmare @staybabblingbaby @kozumesphone @fuck-you-im-gae @thatonedarkskinnedsiren @just-a-blackthorn-cookie @champagneconfetti @juju-227592 @borahae-reads @reallychaoticwoo