#omfg i loved this mix up | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

elflutter · 1 month ago

Text

— i'll love you forever (a momma, you'll be)

kinktober 03 → ruts & breeding kink

in a rut!logan x f!reader

synopsis

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t been waiting for this day: Logan at his most fertile; you at yours. Even though you’ve talked about it, stopped your birth control for it, an an unspoken question still lingers in his gaze. You’re sure about this? You really want a baby with an old man like me?

wordcount: 2.7k | crossposted on ao3

tags/warnings below the cut!

tags/warnings: explicit (18+ mdni), worst wolverine, light a/b/o dynamics (ruts), breeding kink, daddy kink, light dom/sub, age gap (reader is 25+), logan calls himself old man, pet names (incl. sweetheart, baby, momma), unprotected p i v, creampie, fingering, mention of a safeword (not used), reader is ovulating, mentions of pregnancy, pussy pronouns (she/her), logan can pick up reader (but he can lift up to 800 lbs so), logan calls reader's pussy his, no use of y/n. i'm sure i've forgotten something, please let me know if i have!

a/n: idk what came over me with this one omfg. some of this filth was definitely influenced by some other amazing fics i've read this kinktober. the way you want to by @eupheme and baby fever by @silverskyeline come to mind specifically! please go give them some love if you enjoy this one, hehe. and thank you @sceletaflores for hyping up all my depraved ideas, ily

Your boyfriend’s mutation provides certain… perks to your relationship. Firstly, he’s strong enough to pick you up like you weigh less than nothing. And with the healing factor, his refractory period is practically non-existent. But, you think your favorite part of his mutation might be the one on display right now.

Logan’s pupils are blown wide the moment he walks through the door to your shared apartment. The front of his flannel is dark with sweat, a common sight after another long day at the construction job Wade helped secure for him a couple years back. But, from the bulge is already visible through worn jeans, you think all that sweat might be from something else, too. Something that sends electricity shooting down your spine, because you’ve been waiting for this.

Logan clicks the door shut, twisting the lock behind him without looking away from you, his stare heavy and heated. He pulls off his work boots like he cant rid himself of them fast enough, and you’re surprised the well broken-in leather doesn’t rip under his ironclad grip. The thought of that grip on your body, those fingers pressed into the plush of your thighs, has warmth pooling in your core— thick and sweet, like honey in your veins. Heavy and intoxicating, like the whiskey on his breath when you first met.

His biceps bulge beneath rolled-up sleeves as he reaches down to adjust his hard-on, and he prowls to where you sit on the couch, body twisted so you can keep your eyes on him. When Logan finally reaches you in the living room, you’re certain you’ve soaked through the lace of your panties. You straighten out your torso to face forward as he kneels in front of you, spreading your legs to accommodate his broad form.

His voice is as rough and dark as the denim of his work jeans when he finally speaks. His grip hard on your ass, just how you like it. Fingers dig into the thin fabric of your leggings as he pulls your body to the edge of the couch.

“Rut’s here, sugar.” He buries his nose against your hair, breathing in deep— the warm vanilla of your shampoo mixing with the heady scent of your arousal. He speaks into your hair, like he wants to bury himself there. “And I could fuckin’ smell you from the hallway. Drippin’ for me, huh?” He nuzzles in even deeper then, indulging.

You wait for his nose to pick it up— that you’re fertile. You should be, if you’re tracking correctly. You pray that you are. You think you must be ovulating, from the throbbing ache you’ve felt all day. Aching for Logan, for his thick girth to split you open, to be full of him. For that moment, as he empties within you, of soul-deep connection.

When Logan groans against you, the sound a broken thing, your racing heart kicks up a beat. He’s scented it; you’re certain. Logan pulls back, his large hands moving to cradle your face with a gentleness that sends a pang through your chest.

“Baby, are you—” He searches your eyes for an answer, as if he can peer into them and see your desires.

Even during these ruts, when his body burns with an ache only for you, to fuck and to fill, to claim, you call the shots. You tell him to stop, that it’s too much, and he will. He’s still Logan, always in control of himself. It’s not unlike how your sex drive changes, during your own cycle. And, shit, you’re weak for it. Always have been.

You’re sure about this? You really want a baby with an old man like me?

You nod; the sting in your chest drowning out the ache in your core for a moment. One day, you hope, he’ll see that you want everything he could possibly give you.

“Yeah, baby. It’s time, I’m ovulating.” Leaning forward, you press your forehead against his, fingers moving to rub gentle circles in his hair. “Please, Lo. Want your baby.”

His lips crash into yours, then, before he’s scooping you up. You hook your feet behind his back as he carries you to the bed, peppering you with kisses and breathy murmurs in your ear.

“Alright, sweetheart, want me to fuck a baby into that sweet little cunt?” His teeth are on your earlobe, hot breath grazing each of his love-bites. You’ve melted into putty in his hands when he finally sets you down on the plush surface of the bed, mind a haze of lust and longing. “Gonna look so good with my baby in you, my little momma.”

Your cheeks grow hot, his words nestling through your mind and finding a home in the dull throbbing between your legs. His name escapes your lips in a needy whine. Before you can say anything else, he flips you onto your stomach. His grip finds your hips, pulling up until your ass is in the air right at the edge of the bed; face buried in the covers.

Logan’s hands move to cup the swell of your bottom as he stands behind you, humming in satisfaction.

“Such a pretty little present, comin’ home to her every day.” Your face heats as you realize he’s not talking to you, but your pussy. “She’s fucking drippin’ for me, isn’t that right?”

All you can manage is a nod and a pathetic whimper, words lost somewhere in the haze of desire.

His palms brush up your back, until he reaches out to grab one of your breasts, his other hand supporting his upper body as he leans over you until you feel his hot breath against your ear.

“Already cock drunk, Momma? Haven’t even touched you yet.”

“L- Logan, please—” you keen. You don’t even have the presence of mind to be embarrassed about your desperation. You feel so achingly empty— just need his cock in your pussy; his come deep and warm inside your womb. The pet-name plays in your mind on repeat. Momma. Momma. Momma.

The image of walking around in a few months, full with his child, and everyone will know who you belong to. Who did this to you. He’ll make you face the mirror above the dresser while he stuffs you full of his come, night after night, whispering how good you look now that he put a baby in you.

He doesn’t move his lips from where they brush against your ear. “Gonna unwrap my present now. Wanna see that pretty pussy. Know she needs some attention, doesn’t she?”

You nod desperately. Suddenly, he stands up straight again, and before you can even protest at the loss of his body heat pressed up against yours, you hear his claws unsheathe with a snikt.

The claws— another favorite aspect of your boyfriend’s mutation in bed. You never knew ruined clothes would get you so damn wet. But it triggers a primal satisfaction deep within you whenever Logan rips through your leggings, your panties, anything keeping the two of you apart. You’ve invested in owning several pairs of the same cheap leggings at any given time, so Logan doesn’t have to worry about replacing the garments he destroys.

He tugs his claws through your leggings and underwear until they lie in pieces beneath you on the bed, and you whine as the cold air of the room grazes where you throb for him. Logan would usually tease you until you were a sobbing mess beneath him, making you drip through the gusset of ruined panties, grinding against your clothed slit. Then, he would make you fall apart on his mouth, then on his fingers, then make you beg, before he’d finally sheathe himself within you.

You thank whatever higher power exists in the multiverse— you think you remember Wade mention someone called Marvel Jesus?— that Logan could only taunt you with one or two lewd comments before he is ripping at your clothes and stepping out of his jeans, shirt tossed aside, to line himself up at your weeping entrance.

Logan is still standing on the floor behind the bed while your ass is swaying in the air where he’s positioned you at the edge, begging for attention. When the fat head of his cock brushes against your puffy folds, heat blooms beneath each place he teases. You can’t help how your neglected cunt clenches around nothing; desperate for something— anything to ease the throbbing ache. Logan grinds his hardness against you— the tip rubbing at your clit has you keening before he slips two fingers into your slick heat.

Every sense is overwhelmed as you feel him enveloping you in his body— his cock teasing at your clit. His breath hot in your ear. One arm between your bodies, fingers curling deep inside. The other, resting on the bed beside your head. All you can feel is Logan, Logan, Logan, all over.

“Gotta get my pussy ready,” his words brush against the shell of your ear. “Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”

Your eyes scrunch shut, the image of how you’d look with Logan’s cock buried within you playing in the darkness of your vision— hips slamming into your ass. Balls making soft plap plap plaps as they slap against your swollen nub. Thinking of Logan, his body on fire with his need to claim you— to breed you. Filling you with his come until your womb is flooded with it. Imagining how you’ll grow plump with his child. You can’t be blamed for the lewd response slips out of you in response to his question.

“Yes, Daddy—” the last word is whined out before you can stop yourself. Cheeks heat, as you realize what you’ve called him. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought of it before. His fingers speed within you, curling against the little textured spot inside that Logan knows so well it’s like he owns it.

“Fuck, baby,” Logan pants, his hips grinding to match the pace of his hand. “You’re gonna make me a daddy. You want that, baby?”

His words are rough against your ear— letting out a little hum as you sink even deeper in the haze of pleasure, tension winding tight in your gut.

“Say it.”

The command in his voice sends a shiver down your spine.

Your own voice wobbles, sounding small and pathetic, as you eek out a response that is little more than a whine, “W-wanna make you a daddy!”

“Attagirl.”

A feral smile against your ear, as his possessive praise alights sparks within you. Somehow, Logan plunges his fingers even deeper, then. His hips never slow where they grind against your folds, cockhead notching against your clit just right, and suddenly that coiling tension releases with a snap.

Your climax hits you, legs quaking as warmth spreads out from your core, until you can feel it wash through your limbs. The fingers in your cunt work you through the pleasure, slowing as you pant against the bedsheets.

Standing tall behind you again, you don’t have time to mourn the loss of Logan’s fingers before he positions himself at your slit.

His voice, gentle, when he speaks before slipping inside. “Remember your word, darlin’?”

Your cheeks heat. He always asks that, when he’s about to fuck you into the mattress until you can’t remember your own name. He’s especially careful to remind you of it when he’s in a rut. You nod, telling him the word you can always say if it gets too much. Apple, and he’ll stop.

His palms cup your ass possessively, splaying his fingers wide to hold as much as he can. “You ready to be a momma?”

You nod your assent.

Logan clicks his tongue, and you can hear the smug smile in his voice. “Use your words for Daddy.”

His words are firm, smug, and for a moment you think he might be making fun of you. But you can tell he’s desperate in the way he pushes the tip of his cock inside you before you can respond. You never thought you’d hear Logan call himself daddy, and it turns you on way more than it should.

“Ready to be a momma, Lo, fuck,” you swear as his weeping head pushes past your puffy folds and into your swollen cunt.

It seems that your words snapped the last of his restraint, finally allowing his base urges to take over. For him to claim you how you’ve both ached for since he crossed the threshold into your shared apartment.

He pushes the rest of the way into you, hissing through his teeth as his hips finally meet the plush of your ass. When he starts thrusting, it’s a rough, feral thing. His fingers dig into your hips, pulling you back to meet him with every thrust. You’re a rag doll in his arms, ass up and on display, face buried as you moan into the sheets.

Logan looks down at you from where he stands, watching his thick length disappear into your tight little hole. When he speaks, his voice comes out in a growl. He can’t help it, with the image of you— fucked out and ruined beneath him. He plans to keep you in this bed, putting his sweet little pussy to use until he can be certain it took.

“Look so fuckin’ good like this, sugar. Lettin’ your old man fill your tight little hole. Gonna keep you full all night, gonna feel my come leakin’ out for days.”

All you can do is whine into the sheets, growing damp with drool as his hips pound against you in hungry thrusts.

“Y’want that, sweetpea? Want daddy’s come?”

Your answer is torn from your throat in a desperate sob.

“Yes!”

Logan’s grip shifts until he’s got one fist full of your tits and one palm flattened against your belly, pulling your body upright against his while he drives his cock up into your weeping cunt. He palms at your breasts, fingers ghosting across your nipples until both are hard and stinging. His grip pinches and soothes, and soon the palm against your stomach moves downward. Then he’s circling your clit, his cock finding that perfect spot inside your walls before plunging deeper until you can feel it brush against your cervix.

Each sensation washes over you, waves lapping against your toes at first. But the water rises higher, higher, higher until you’re drowning in pleasure, your orgasm pulling you under as you come on his cock. You can feel Logan’s words brush against your ear, as you come undone.

“Good fuckin’ girl, coming on your old man’s cock. Lettin’ me do what I need t’ya.” His words are a low snarl when he continues, thrusting harder and harder. “Daddy’s gonna fill you up real good now, gonna put a baby in this tight little pussy.”

You feel your lips form the word yes, over and over, and you think you must be chanting it like a prayer, as his hips snap into you. Logan’s pace grows frenzied as your walls flutter around him in the aftershock of your climax. Reckless, as he pounds into your puffy cunt, your slick leaking down his shaft onto his balls until he finally falls over the edge with a growl. You feel his cock pulse, impossibly deep, filling you with thick ropes of spend. His thrusts slow, but don’t stop, as he fucks his seed further into you.

Logan gingerly lowers the both of you to the bed. You sigh contentedly, finally laying flat on your stomach. Logan cants himself on his elbows above you, still plugged full of his cock.

You can’t help but giggle— he might be into the whole daddy thing even more than you. And that is saying a lot, because you are super into it.

“Lo, that was so fucking hot.”

He chuckles darkly, pulling out before he gathers up the come leaking out of your used cunt and pushes it back inside with his fingers.

“Hope ya don’t think I’m done with you for the night.” Your cheeks heat as you realize he’s growing hard again, his length resting against your ass cheek. “Not even close, bub.”

thank you so much for reading this! id you liked it, please leave a comment or an rb! i would love to hear what you thought!

lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics

#logan howlett x reader #logan x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine x y/n #logan howlett x y/n #logan howlett smut #wolverine smut #worst wolverine x reader #worst wolverine x y/n #worst wolverine x you #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett imagine #deadpool & wolverine fanfic #my work #.5k #1k

2K notes · View notes

norrizzandpia · 1 year ago

Note

you’re my absolute favourite lando fanfic writer, i get so excited whenever you post. can you do some sort of fake dating x enemies to lovers with lando & some angst & grovelling please? i leave the rest up to you, i can’t wait to see what you come up with<3

THIS IS THE BEST MIX OF TROPES I HAVE EVER SEEN I LOVE YOU FOR THIS also thank you so much for saying I’m your fav lando writer I’m blushing ☺️

You Were Never What I Wanted, (LN4)

Summary: Lando and Y/n have never liked each other and it’s only the distaste the world has for them when McLaren forces them to “put on a show for the public”. At first, a few hand holds and light, quick kisses seem to be tolerable, yet feather light touches turn into longing stares and, suddenly, they’re falling in love. Although, hatred is a powerful emotion. Can love really trump it?

Warnings: language, sexual discussions, very mild smut, lando and yn yearning, yn calling lando a man whore not affectionately, talks of death, a crash, she’s long so grab popcorn, omfg this one hurts

Note: i love a good fake dating y’all don’t GET. IT. Also i added the reformed playboy trope to this to spice things up! It’s very mildly mentioned tho UPDATE: PART 2 POSTED!

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Lando screeches, body flying from his chair beside Y/n.

Charlotte smiles tightly at him, nodding slowly and putting her hands up, “Lando, yes. You know this is the only way to clean up the reputation you two have developed together.”

He groans, turning to pace the room when Zak interrupts, “Lando, be a fucking man and clean up the mess you’ve made.”

He turns quickly, eyes bulging as he yells, “It wasn’t fucking me! It was her!” He turns to look at Y/n, bewildered look in his eyes as he points furiously at her, “It was you! You got us into this mess! You clean it up!”

Y/n rolls her eyes at him and he almost loses his head, “You’re just as at fault, Lando. You’re the one that openly criticized my driving in a room full of reporters and cameras!”

“I was asked a fucking question, Y/n. It was my job to answer it honestly.” He shoots back.

She scoffs, “Are you fucking psychotic? Or just that fucking stupid? Our job is to lie to the press, that’s what it’s always been. Don’t fucking change it when it’s convenient for you.”

Lando’s hands claw at his eyes as they continue to bicker, “The only person who’s stupid here is you.”

“I was standing up for myself!”

“Oh, yeah?! Now, look where that’s gotten us! A fucking PR stunt!”

“Get over yourself, Lando! You’re just as at fault!”

“You’re so fucking annoying, Y/n! Can’t take any fucking accountabil-”

“Oh, please, you’re one to ta-”

“OKAY!” Charlotte claps her hands as she stops the two drivers. The image before her is one she never thought she’d see this season. Lando Norris, a McLaren driver and well known playboy, getting mad he had to kiss one of the most beautiful women to grace the sport of Formula 1, fellow driver on the grid, Y/n Y/l/n. She surely would’ve chuckled if Lando’s eyes weren’t alive with an angry fire she needed to diffuse immediately.

“You two need to just realize that whose fault this was doesn’t matter. What you need to focus on is pretending you’re in love, so the media stops breathing down McLaren’s and Red Bull’s necks. This is the only way we can make all this bad press go away.” She explains, hands moving rapidly in front of her as she tries to calm the two down.

Y/n, the more rational one, nods, accepting her fate with grace. Lando, on the other hand, stomps his foot on the ground and mutters a sentence of agreement before storming out of the room.

Y/n laughs, turning to Zak and Charlotte, the papaya employees looking as if five years had just been taken off their lives, “I don’t know how you put up with him. He’s so fucking childish.”

Charlotte, media trained, smiles, “He’s better when he isn’t angry.”

Zak, not media trained, nods, “Y/n, I’ve never agreed with you more.”

The man and woman share a look, a subtle scolding glint in Charlotte’s eye as she stares at Zak. He backs down, earning a giggle from Y/n as she begins to leave the room.

“You’ll send the NDAs and other contracts over to Red Bull, right? I’d like to get this started and over with as soon as possible.” Y/n smiles, a soft one that makes others feel warm inside.

Charlotte nods, “Of course. Consider it done.”

Y/n, keeping her smile and composure, withdraws from the room, the door closing with a loud click.

Zak and Charlotte are left to sink down into the chairs behind them. Slugging, Zak’s head lulls to her side, “This is either the best idea we’ve ever had or the worst one.”

She laughs, “They either fall in love or hate each other more.”

—

“Okay, so,” Charlotte smiles at Lando and Y/n from her side of the SUV, the two on either side of the car, sitting as far away from the other as possible, “This is going to be a short outing.”

“Thank God.” Lando mumbles under his breath, earning a scowl from the girl beside him.

Charlotte huffs, continuing, “Just a coffee run. You’ll go into the cafe, holding hands, maybe a kiss or two, get your drinks, and then leave. Very quick. However, I need you two to give it your all. This will be the first time the public sees you as something more than enemies. It needs to be convincing. Heart eyes and maybe, if you’re comfortable, roaming hands.”

Lando’s head turns in utter disgust, “If you fucking think I’m going to touch her ass or some shit, you’ve absolutely lost it.”

Y/n’s body whips around, whole torso facing him as she stares him down, “Oh, please, Lando, you get no fucking women. You haven’t touched anybody’s ass, let alone a girl’s, in fucking ages.”

“Oh, yeah? Then, explain the girl that woke up in my bed this morning!” He fires back, head tilting in a challenging way.

Y/n shoves her arms across her chest as she sits back and whispers, loud enough for him and Charlotte to hear, “Man whore.”

Charlotte’s eyebrows lift slightly, exhaling a breath, “Well! This should be fun!”

The car comes to a stop in an alleyway, hidden from prying eyes. Charlotte lets the silence pass between the two for a few moments before leaning over and opening Lando’s door, “Well, get on with it! Chop chop! Don’t have all the time in the world.”

Lando slides out of the car, shaking his head and grumbling incoherently. Y/n follows him, however, when she gets her legs hanging out the door, she is reminded of just how high the car is off the ground. She goes to turn her body around, opting to slide slowly out on her stomach in avoidance of an accident, but, before she can get positioned, Lando grabs her hips and lifts her from the car, down onto the ground.

There’s a moment where she’s so taken aback, surprised, by the movement, all she can do is grip onto his biceps and stare down at her feet, safely on the pavement. It’s only when Charlotte starts yelling, “Yes! Yes, Lando! Just like that! Look at her like that!” That she looks up. What she finds is deep green eyes completely dilated and lost in the sight of her. She reminds herself of the hatred this man has for her, brushing off the way his hands squeeze over the flesh of her hips desperately, and removes herself from his hold.

Immediately, he comes to, the snarl replacing whatever emotion had taken over his face before. She trails down the dirty, smelly passageway, hearing Lando’s feet patter behind her.

It’s as if she’s achingly aware of his presence when he reaches her, just before they turn onto the public street, and takes her hand in his. The way his cologne wraps around her body, suffocating her in the most addicting way, and the feeling of his fingers fitting perfectly in the divots of hers, soft against her skin, has Y/n reeling. She goes along with his movements, relying on him to guide her as she travels to a place where Lando’s just the man she used to think he was; insanely hot and incredibly charming.

He pulls her back, however, when he opens the door for her and quietly says her name when she doesn’t walk through.

“Y/n?” His hand tugs against hers, smiling softly at the way she stares off into space. Whether that smile is genuine, although, Y/n has no clue.

She shakes her head, murmuring a thank you to him as she scurries past the threshold. When they both enter, their presence is immediately clocked by the other customers waiting for their orders. That’s what Y/n tells herself when Lando comes up behind her, arms around her waist as he rests his head on the top of hers.

“What do you want, baby? I’m paying.” He says, low enough for it to come across as a whisper, but loud enough for the girl in front of them to turn her head slightly in curiosity.

He’s surprisingly good at this, falling into the role demanded of him in a way that has Y/n faltering. She was expecting a man who was so distant from her, the same as her past partners, she had to beg for his attention. Yet, here she was getting showered in affection by a man she was convinced didn’t have the capacity for it.

Her response is easy, covering for the feelings arising within a certain part of herself she can’t quite name, “Just a cappuccino. Thanks, Lan.”

His grin is sweet as he lays a kiss on her temple. His hands rub over her hips as he detaches himself from her body and moves in front of her, teasingly pushing her away from the register with a light laugh.

Lando spews off the order to the man behind the counter as Y/n moves to the other side of the establishment, residing where the orders are dropped off. It could’ve been strategic, it probably was she promises herself, but Lando yells across the store to her.

“Y/n! Love, do you want food? They have your favorite here,” He smiles at her, earning a few giggles from fawning girls in the corner, “Croissants!”

Did he know croissants are actually her favorite or was that just a lucky guess?

Y/n gives him an airy chuckle, head falling back slightly in a lovesick way as she shakes her head, “Nah, I’m okay. Just gives us another opportunity to come back here.”

He nods at her, shaking his head at the barista and handing him some cash.

He tips the change, a hefty amount seemingly as Y/n watches the worker hesitate and thank Lando profusely. Her heart warms, shining on the inside as he treats hardworking people, those who are usually treated horrifically, with the utmost respect.

These reactions she’s having toward him are confusing, a far off nagging in her brain that she might’ve always wished for this type of attention specifically from him.

Nevertheless, she forces her mind to end its overwhelming thoughts when he waltzes over and sidles up next to her. She’s determined to keep this transactional, however she can.

She can’t get feelings.

She won’t get feelings.

And that was that, she decided.

“Lando!” Another worker calls out, setting down two drinks on the counter in front of them. Y/n goes to pick them up, however Lando beats her, giving her a cheeky grin as he mumbles, “You’re my girlfriend, Y/n. You don’t get the drinks, I do. Don’t be barbaric.”

She stands staring at him, mouth agape at his comment as the girls sitting behind them, somehow closer now, gasp.

Y/n hits his arm, the liquid jostling in his grip, “We weren’t supposed to say anything yet!”

He shrugs in return as he pushes the door open with the side of his body, and waits for her to walk through, “I guess I just couldn’t wait, baby. Too in love.”

She shakes her head at him, taking the drink from his hand, their digits brushing against the other’s in an electrifying way, “Down the toilet goes the soft launch plan.”

As they turn the corner, the smile he had been adoring her with suddenly vanishes and the usual pain that fills his expression when he’s around her returns.

“I’m just trying to get this over with, Y/n. Waiting a whole fucking month to tell some fans we’re together is so fucking stupid and I’m not doing it.” He bites out, a hostility to him she had forgotten in the ten minutes he had just treated her like she was his everything.

She drops the coffee on the ground as they grow closer to the car, shock at his quick change in attitude forcing her body to go numb. Lando stops when she does, both of them staring down at the leaking, steaming drink.

He dryly laughs at her, “How fucking stupid! Can’t even hold her own drink! No wonder you’re a shit driver!”

He gets in the car, shutting the door harshly and leaving her to internalize his criticisms.

For some reason, after getting a glimpse at what being loved by him feels like, his words hurt more, mean more.

What a dangerous game.

—

Lando is a known party animal. He’s in love with the blinding lights, loud music, and alcohol flowing without a care in the world what hangover he’d be graced with in the morning. However, with her here, it proves to be a much more stressful experience.

She’s glued to his side, not particularly the clubbing type, and Lando feels his heart quicken when other men bend their backs to see her walk away. A month into the arrangement they structured and he’s consistently feeling as if he’s fighting off every man that floats their way.

He’s worried someone will try to take advantage of her; he’s worried someone will spike her drink; he’s worried someone will touch her weirdly; he’s worried someone will bother her.

He’s worried about her.

A thought so pressing he forces it out of his mind, away from the impending cloudiness that accompanies a topic so big; the way he feels toward her.

The way it was explained to him, by the joint teams of McLaren PR and Red Bull PR, was that, for the first few weeks, their relationship outings would consist of soft dates, quick times spent out together grabbing takeout or a few pictures here and there on both their social medias that addressed their relationship status. Once they got past that time period, they would begin to see the public more often as a union. Long dinners, a handful of charity functions, a gala, and nights out clubbing riddled his calendar now.

Something he wasn’t too opposed to he was coming to find out.

That was the phase they were entering now; the hard launch. After his stunt in the coffee shop those four weeks ago, the teams had to regroup. The girls who had been hanging around had heard his slight confession of love, plastering it on the internet for every person to see.

The consequence? Lando didn’t get to be seen with Y/n for a week as the PR teams waited for the attention around the news to subside.

He wouldn’t risk that now.

Not when he was beginning to get used to the way her hand held his bicep as his fingers tangled in her other hand below.

“Lan?” She yells in his ear, their footsteps just now reaching the VIP section as the bodyguard lets them through.

He looks down at her, their faces centimeters away, lips centimeters away, and Lando’s scared.

Scared of the things he wants to do as her plump, pink lips sit right below his.

“Yeah?” His eyes avert to Max, his best friend, the boy giving him a knowing glance as he sips on his glass.

“Get me a drink please? I would do it myself, but I don’t want to risk having to talk to a random guy and-” He interrupts her immediately when she mentions the possibility of someone else hitting on her.

“I got it.” He’s spinning around, fast walking toward the bar before she can tell him what she wants.

She turns around, wandering over to Max and plopping down beside him on the soft, black couch in the corner of the room.

Max shakes his head as he looks at her, chuckling softly before letting his head fall to his chest.

“What?” She asks, eyebrows raising at the boy she had grown close to over the time she’d spent with his friend.

“You two are so funny.” He continues giggling, his girlfriend smacking his arm with a cautious look.

Y/n’s eyebrows furrow, “What?”

“You guys say you hate each other, but then you look at each other like you can’t wait to rip the other’s clot-” He begins, but Pietra slaps her hand over his mouth.

“MAX FEWTRELL!” She screams over the music, “NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!”

Her scolding makes him cower into himself, a drunken look on his face as he searches for mercy from his girlfriend.

Y/n is about to press for more when Lando shoves her drink in front of her, holding it out for her until she cradles it in her own.

Looking down at it, her head tilts, “A vodka soda with two orange slices?”

Lando stares at her blankly, “Yeah, you’re favorite, right?”

She nods, “Yeah.”

They look at each other for a moment. Confusion on both their faces for two different reasons.

“Is that a problem?” He asks her, hand dangerously close to her thigh and heating the skin of her leg up with the need for him to splay his fingers across it.

She shakes her head slowly, “No, just- How did you know it was my favorite?”

Emotions flash through his eyes, too fast for Y/n to decipher them. He withdraws physically, cold returning to her leg when his hand retracts to his lap.

“Uh, you just told me a few times.” He stutters.

If she knew him better, she might say for certain he was nervous.

Not mentioning the fact she had never told him what her favorite alcoholic drink was, Y/n moves on. It’s not because she doesn’t want to find out how he knew what she liked or that she simply doesn’t care how he knows, it’s because a camera catches her peripheral eye. Her head discreetly moves to the side, analyzing the drunken girl who stumbles over to the railing and points her phone right at them.

Y/n falls into Lando’s side, his body laid against the back of the couch and making for a comfortable cushion. His arm automatically wraps around her shoulders as her hand plants itself on his upper thigh.

When her fingers brush teasingly close to his crotch, he looks down at her, astonished, “What are you doing?”

“Camera.” She says, his eyes looking up through his lashes before he sees what she had witnessed before.

He nods subtly, leaning down immediately to press his lips to hers shortly. It’s a kiss like the ones they’d had before, quick and dry, yet, this one, instead of pulling away right after, Lando lingers. His lips brush against hers in hesitation, as if he’s deciding whether or not he wants to lean back in for more. His eyes stare into hers, top lip hitting her bottom one as he dips his chin down. He’s close to taking what he wants, breath heavy against her face as he holds her to him. His hands eagerly claw at her dress, forcing her to stay where she is, where he wants her to be, close to him. Yet, he continues to hesitate.

Finally, for the first time, Y/n sees the emotion that hides behind the beautiful color of his eyes; confusion.

It’s only for a split second though. She sees it only for a millisecond as Lando feels the way she breaks down a wall he had built up long ago. When she realizes the war behind his head, he retreats.

His hands fall from her back and his head turns to the side, rejecting what he wanted to do. She watches him look for the girl that had been filming them, eyes roaming over the crowd before coming to the conclusion she was gone.

“No camera.” He says curtly, pushing her off him as he gets up from the couch and walks back to the bar.

She watches him order another drink, no doubt for himself.

Her eyes train on the drink that sits, sweating, on the table in front of them.

Lando’s drink that’s completely full.

🏎️

Liquid courage is a real thing. It’s what drives Lando to ask Y/n to join him on the dance floor. It’s what drives Y/n to pull him into her and sway her hips right against him. They’re on beat with the music, it thumping in their hearts as Lando grips her hips and forces her body closer to his. There’s a newfound sexual tension, rather than the usual tension that consisted of complicated feelings and lingering hurt over past insults. Her hands drape over his neck, head in his chest as he lays his against her shoulder, withholding groans when she circles her hips and accidentally caresses his dick.

His head’s somewhere else, terrifyingly so. He’s not fully thinking through his actions or the thoughts running through his head, the consequences they would have.

All he can think about is the feeling of Y/n’s boobs pressed up against his chest, her cleavage cum-worthy when he looks down and sees her potential spill-out.

The chorus of Love Tonight pumps through the speakers, communicating the feelings they’re too scared to say.

All I need is your love tonight.

The music spurs him on, almost nudging his head downwards to meet her in the same spot they had been in just a few hours before.

His lips hovering over hers with the same thoughts as before, Lando’s brain goes haywire. She’s panting against him, hips relentless as they continue to circle against him. He’s drowning in her, no escape from the hold she has on him.

Fuck it, he thinks.

He smashes his lips against hers, the first kiss they’ve had that truly puts into perspective how much they want each other. Teeth clashing, his tongue wandering the walls of her mouth, Lando and Y/n fail to come up with an excuse for their actions.

No cameras, no fans, no press.

Just the two of them, dancing and kissing with one singular goal.

All I need is your love tonight.

—

“Here’s your check! Thank you for joining us tonight!” The waiter smiles, setting down the black booklet as Lando quickly swipes it from the table.

Whining, Y/n waves her card around, “Lando, when are you going to let me pay? I don’t think I’ve paid a single time we’ve been together.”

He smiles at her mischievously, “Exactly.”

She rolls her eyes, “Lando,”

He eyes her as he scribbles onto the receipt, “Y/n,”

She scoffs, sitting back in her chair with a huff.

When he’s done, he gives her a sympathetic look before reaching across the table and grabbing her hand, “How about next time we get coffee you pay for your own?”

She looks away from him with a failing suppressive smile, “That’s like five dollars, Lan! You’ve probably spent thousands in the time we’ve been together.”

He shakes his head, “Doesn’t matter.”

Her face scrunches up, “Yes, it does!”

He’s about to rebuttal, but the screeching of people close to them takes their soft eyes off the other.

A mixed group of girls and boys stop at their table, smiling brightly at the two drivers. One of them stands in the middle, phone clutched to her chest as she asks, “Can we get a picture?”

Lando looks to Y/n, searching for approval, but she’s not looking at him. He watches her face light up, smiling big at the fans in front of them as she gets up from her chair.

“Yeah, of course!” She laughs, a sound so light and delicate, it makes Lando’s heart clench in his chest. He never saw the way she acted around fans, having been isolated from them in the times they were together. However, now, as he stays put in his chair and stares on, he adores the way she adores them.

His hands clasped in his lap, Lando sits motionlessly. He can’t take his eyes off the woman who is very clearly making this group’s year. They all stare at her as if she held the moon in their hands, a present from her to them. There’s a simple sparkle in their eyes as she takes pictures with each of them, a simple sparkle that tells him just how much these kids look up to her.

He’s enamored by her, just like they are. For different reasons, though.

“Lan, are you going to get up?” She giggles, hitting his arm and reminding him of the task at hand.

The group stares at him, not the same way they had stared at her notably. He can tell they value him, they’re excited by him, but they aren’t starstruck by him.

He can live with that, though. He gets what it’s like to become speechless over something so beautiful.

After a few more clicks of the camera, the supposed couple sits back down in their seats, but Y/n doesn’t let the fans leave yet. He watches as they brighten at her starting conversation with them.

He loves this. He loves he-

“I have to say, I was so surprised when I found out you two were together.” One of the girls in the group interrupts his questionable internal dialogue. He’s relieved, however. He can’t be thinking that way.

He can’t be feeling that way.

He isn’t.

Y/n tilts her head up at them, “Yeah?”

The group nods and one of the boys speaks up, “Yeah, you two, like, hated each other.”

Everyone laughs, Y/n sitting back in her chair as Lando watches her take the statement easily, “Well, we didn’t hate each other. We did love each other, just didn’t know how to deal with it.”

Her eyes meet his and, for a moment, Lando wonders if she truly means it or if she’s signaling for him to add on.

He goes with adding on, “Yeah, definitely. Who could hate her?”

You could, she thinks. You do, she thinks.

The words sink her heart to her stomach. A reality so crushing, she hates to entertain it. When this is all over, he’ll go back to hurting her with jabs that attack her self-confidence and she’ll be left to hang on to the man he had been when they were “together”.

She doesn’t want to go back to hating him, yet she’s scared she will. She doesn’t want to go back to knowing who he truly is at his core, yet she’s scared she will.

She doesn’t want to go back to knowing what he truly thinks of her, yet she’s scared she will.

By the time she returns to the conversation, the fans are simultaneously thanking them for their time and kindness. Leaving them alone, Lando stands from the table and checks the bill once more. Y/n grabs her bag, “Why’re you checking it again?”

He looks up at her as his pointer finger lingers on the paper, “Oh, just calculating what you’ll owe me when this is all said and done. You know, when we go back to hating each other’s guts.”

He says it jokingly, she can tell he’s teasing as he laughs it off, holding her hand gently as he leads her out of the restaurant. But, none of that stops the way she exhales a deep breath, a sigh that carries so much pain, she wonders where it came from.

Lando used to mean nothing to her, or so she thought.

Had he always meant everything?

—

Silverstone is supposed to be a fun race for Lando. It’s one of his favorites on the calendar. Although, that joy is rapidly tanking as he races quickly around the track, smoke emitting from behind him and filling the air, filling his helmet. He coughs harshly as he rushes into his radio, “Was that a crash?! Who is it?! Are they okay?! Is it on fire?! There’s smoke.”

There’s panic in his voice, knowing regardless of who it is, he’ll be worried.

Andrea’s silent on the other line, heightening Lando’s concerns.

“Andrea! What’s going on? Can you hear me?”

“I can hear you.” Andrea responds immediately.

Lando rounds a corner before he speaks back, confusions drenching his tone, “Okay, so who was that? Are they okay?”

Andrea is monotone, “I don’t know if they’re okay right now.”

Lando’s heart drops, “Oh, no, who was it? Was it one of the Williams? A Ferrari? Maybe a Haas?”

Again, Andrea doesn’t answer him and Lando is about to press him further when he reaches the crash site once more. Eyes trained on the color of the car, the words “Red Bull” hit him hard.

Andrea waits for the anxiety to kick in on the other line, fully prepared to talk him down as he watches for any updates on the crash.

“IT’S A FUCKING RED BULL! IS IT Y/N? ANDREA, IS IT Y/N?” He screams, voice shaking as he begins to slow down, cars passing him by and making him lose positions.

Andrea watches the decline of Lando’s car in the race standings, head falling as he realizes no information about Y/n will come quick enough to make him get back in the race.

Calmly, he responds, “I am not sure who it is yet.”

He hears Lando groan aggressively, “Bullshit! Is it her?!”

His yelling can be heard throughout the entire wall, everyone giving side glances to Andrea over the man who is currently screaming.

“Lando, I promise you, if I knew who it was, I would tell you.” Andrea gives, voice pleading.

It’s quiet for a moment, the only thing heard being the sounds of Lando’s heavy breathing. Solemnly, Andrea watches a camera zoom in past the smoke and center the number of the car in the frame.

Y/n’s car.

Clicking the button, Andrea speaks to Lando, “I can confirm it is Y/n’s car. No knowledge of if she’s gotten out of the car or not.”

Again, there’s silence before Lando’s hand smacks his steering wheel and he lets out a noise filled with anguish, “Please, tell me when you find out.”

Torturously, Lando passes by her car at every turn, watching only for a second as people work to try and get her out of the car.

Andrea watches in horror as a group of men lift her from the car, her body limp and unmoving as they run her to the safety car.

“She’s out of the car.” He murmurs to Lando, praying the boy won’t ask more questions.

He does, “Good! That’s good! By herself or did she need aid?”

The sound of Andrea’s heavy sigh kills Lando, “No, not by herself. She needed help.”

“How much help?”

Silence.

Lando yelps, “ANDREA! TELL ME WHAT’S GOING ON RIGHT FUCKING NOW! THIS IS MY FUCKING GIRLFRIEND! HOW MUCH FUCKING HELP?”

“She’s not moving.”

Lando doesn’t say anything, his mind racing as his eyes water.

Finally, he speaks, “I need to retire the car.”

Andrea and the rest of the pit wall turn to look at each other with outraged stares, “What? No, Lando. The car’s perfectly fine. The pace is great, no dam-”

Lando interrupts Andrea with a broken voice, “The car’s not the reason we need to retire the car. It’s the driver. It’s me.”

Everyone can hear it in the way his voice cracks, he’s crying, knowing he can’t see through it. It’s a danger, it truly is, and that forces Andrea and the team to comply with Lando’s demands.

When he parks in the garage, he clampers out. Shoving engineers, Andrea, his dad, Zak, and anyone else who gets in his way or tries to talk to him, Lando sprints over to the medical center. On his way, he loses his mind over the possibility that she might not be there, already at the hospital, or she will be there, but just her lifeless body.

He’s still drenched in sweat, the amount doubling from his running, when he gets there. Lando pushes past the people who stand at the front, not giving them time to tell him he can’t come in. He hears them call out in opposition, but he’s already in and he just doesn’t care.

There’s no time to address the feelings swirling in his stomach that feel ten times what he had felt for any of his past girlfriends. There’s no time to talk about the way he cries over the image of her burning car or her unconscious body being pulled from it. There’s no time to talk about the fact that, last year, he wouldn’t have acted this crazed over her accident. There’s no time to talk about the fact that, now, he’s fully prepared to brawl with anyone that dares to stand in his way of finding her.

There’s no time because he’s reaching her door and flinging it open. There are nurses beside her conscious figure, tending to the scratches and cuts she has from the car’s debris. Even with the bloodied bandages, Lando smiles at her smiling at him.

When she sees him, her arm reaches out for him without thinking. He takes long strides to get to her even in the small room and, when he does, he grabs her hand.

Kneeling down on the floor beside her, he squeezes her hand, “You okay?”

She nods, “Will be.”

“That’s good enough for me.” He whispers, nurses glancing at each other before exiting the room at the intimacy flowing between the two.

They really were selling this.

Suddenly, Y/n’s eyebrows knit together as her gaze lifts to the clock on the wall, “Wait, Lan, the race is still going. Did you crash?”

He shakes his head, eyes averting from hers, “No, I retired the car.”

Her other hand reaches to turn his gaze back to hers, holding his jaw softly as he smiles at her, “Why?” She whispers.

“Because I needed to make sure you were okay.”

The truth hangs in the air painfully.

They can’t speak of what that means or what that alludes to. They can’t speak of the way he clutches onto her hand as if she’ll go away. They can’t speak of the way he raced over here, throwing important people to the side in a state of pure panic. They can’t speak of the way they stare at each other, yearn for each other in a way that goes against every rule they agreed to when this started.

All they can do is kiss each other sweetly and lie.

Lie to themselves about what will happen after it’s over; lie to themselves about how much they truly care for each other; lie to the PR teams and tell them nothing is developing between them, that it’s safe to continue this.

And, most of all, later, when Zak asks Lando why he has lip gloss smudged against his mouth, they must lie.

—

“Can you zip me up?” Y/n turns around in the car, her back to Lando as her dress hangs open slightly at the top.

He nods, fingers delicate against her skin as he glides against it, trailing the cool metal up. His hands finish on her shoulders, slowly rubbing softly as she begins to lean against him.

“Lan, that feels good.” She mumbles, words slurred from the way his fingers work the knots under her skin.

Her body lies fully on him, his mouth by her ear as they wait to get to their destination. He continues to massage her, whispering random things in her ear about errands they need to run or complete tomorrow.

With her eyes closed and relaxed state, Lando admires how safe she feels around him. Five months ago, Y/n wouldn’t have dared to let him touch her in the way he was, in the way he had over the past two months, however things had changed. For better or for worse, Lando still wasn’t sure.

The driver in the front eyes them questionably, having witnessed the change in their dynamic over their months together.

With her body still limp against him, the car stops in front of the gala’s entrance. Photographers scream beyond the door and flashes of cameras blind them even as they sit behind the glass.

Looking at her and taking her hand in his, Lando whispers, “Ready?”

She nods, “Always.”

A man opens their door, the volume erupting as Lando steps out, his hand clutching Y/n’s as she follows suit. Immediately, they’re pulled into multiple pictures. Lando’s arm finds its home around her waist with Y/n’s hand resting on his chest, a couple so perfect for each other. Their endeavor had been so incredibly successful, both their teams’ PR divisions were pleasantly surprised. Lando looks on at her, a radiant smile gracing her face as she speaks to one of the reporters on the carpet, and hates the feeling of knowing how close the end is.

In just a few weeks, they’ll be sitting down to write a small paragraph, one that will be posted to their Instagram stories as it tries to sum up the romance they thought they had.

At night, he tries to think of words to describe the moments he’s had with her and, every time, he comes up empty.

Her laughing at the journalist’s joke makes him come to the conclusion there will never be a time where he can gather syllables to explain how undeniably perfect she is.

How he got to the place of being able to address how wonderful she was? Lando had an inkling it was because of the way she made his heart pound and hands sweat.

🏎️

Lando and Y/n easily make their rounds throughout the room, greeting sponsors and potential ones with their hands clasped together. It’s obvious how charming they are together, obvious when random strangers are flipping open their checkbooks at the sight of them. Lando knows it’s all her with her thoughtful sentences and engaging demeanor.

He’s a side piece and he’s okay with that, only okay with it when he’s her side piece.

They’re in the midst of sharing a new drink they decided to try, giggles shared between them as they pass the glass between each other. They had started doing this ages ago, when they first grew closer to one another. In order to make these events go by quicker, they started trying all the items on the alcoholic menu they had never heard before. Some of his favorite memories of her had taken place when she tried something she didn’t like and almost spit it out at him.

“I think this one’s good! What’s it called again? Something sexual, right?” She asks as he takes another swig.

Lando shakes his head, grin on his face as he lifts the drink up to their eye level, “I forgot, but it must be cum something. Sure does look like cum.”

Her mouth falls open and she screeches, “Lando!”

He falls over onto the table beside them, laughing, “What? You don’t swallow?”

She joins him in laughter, “You wish you knew.”

Of fucking course, he thinks.

“Lando?” A voice from his past calls from behind them.

Lando’s heart drops, turning around and seeing Luisinha.

“Hey, Lu!” She moves to hug him, squeezing him lightly before letting her eyes drift to the girl quietly standing with him.

“Hi, Y/n.” She speaks, smiling softly as she hugs her.

Luisinha giggles before looking between the two, “I assume I need to be reintroduced to you. Before, you were Y/n, driver for Red Bull. Now, you’re Y/n, Lando’s girlfriend.”

Y/n nods, a gesture that looks to come so easy to her, Lando wishes it was real.

They hug again, chuckling at the situation before Luisinha directs her attention back to her ex-boyfriend, “It’s nice to see you, Lan! All those nights spent on the phone just aren’t the same as seeing you in person.”

Y/n loses her breath over Lu’s words, gaze drifting immediately to Lando and watching as he nods along.

“Yeah! Seriously, talking to you over the phone isn’t enough.”

His response, easy and light, crushes her.

Y/n steps in closer, “Sorry, um, you two still talk?”

Luisinha looks to Lando, intrigue in her eyes as she searches him. Lando, the boy stuck between his past and present, realizes his mistake.

He shakes his hands, “No, I mean- Yes, but it’s not like that, Y/n.”

Luisinha stays silent as she watches Y/n try to keep her composure, “When was the last time you talked?”

Lando can’t bring himself to answer, so Lu does for him, feeling for the girl in between them, “Last night.”

He watches Y/n’s face slowly process the information. It’s as if reality comes crashing down on her, a harsh moment that reminds her of what they are to each other at the end of the day.

Y/n nods, smiling at the two before beginning to walk back, “I need a minute, sorry.”

Lu watches Lando long for her, momentarily wishing Y/n would just understand how much he feels for her, and Luisinha, finally, gets a wave of closure. She understands now why they broke up. When he ended it, Lando had told her he loved her more as a friend, something that broke her, yet, now, she understands why she had been so confused. Originally, she thought he did love her, he just been too afraid to tell her the real reason for their separation, but, as she stares at the pooling in his eyes, she sees a look she never got.

A look of intense love.

She nudges his arm, “Don’t let her get away.”

He nods at her, running off in the direction Y/n had left, eyes searching for her in the sea of people.

🏎️

Lando catches sight of her gorgeous y/h/c hair off in a small hallway of the hotel. He jogs over, her back to him, and lays a soft hand over her shoulder.

She stiffens, refusing to turn around and meet his eyes. However, his voice coaxes her, “Y/n, look at me.”

As much as she tries not to, she does and it breaks her further.

Her watery eyes and lost head tilt are a stab to Lando’s heart, her choked up voice speaking, “So, you were talking to her the entire time we were doing this?”

He’s at a loss, knowing that’s the perfect truth, yet knowing it isn’t fully, “Yes, but it doesn’t mean what you think it means.”

Her body jerks away from him and the anger he was usually greeted with returns, “Oh?! Then, what does it mean, Lando?! Because it looks like I meant fucking nothing to you! I know it isn’t in my head! I know what’s happened between us isn’t just some people getting over the hatred they had for each other! I thought you felt that way too!”

“I do!” He yells back, frustration at her obliviousness getting to him.

Tears leak down her face, “Then, why did you spend the entirety of this talking to your ex! Why’d you agree to this if you still love your ex?!”

Lando groans, “I don’t love my ex! I don’t love Lu! I love you!”

Her tears fall harder, “Do you? How could someone love another person they used to loathe?!”

Lando shakes his head, overwhelmed at what’s going on in his brain, “It just happened, Y/n! You think I thought this would happen?! No, I didn’t!”

Y/n resigns, quiet taking over other than their heavy breathing, “I don’t believe you.”

His annoyance takes over, “Well, then I don’t know what to tell you.”

I want you to tell me why you love me, she thinks. I want to know where your hate turned to love, she thinks.

Those things go unsaid.

Instead, she huffs, “I think this has gotten too out of hand. I think we need to end this arrangement early.”

She sees the unmistakable sadness etched into his face, “How early?”

“Like, tonight.” She whispers, protecting herself from the world of hurt that would be being loved by him. She isn’t Luisinha, she isn’t a model or breathtaking woman. She’s a girl who fell in love with a “boy’s” sport, a girl who has seen the flaws within herself and tried, desperately, to change them, rewrite them. She never does, although. She always comes out the same on the other side.

The truth catches up with her and images of the beautiful women Lando has had in his bed fill her mind. How does she know this isn’t some elaborate prank to get her vulnerable and then humiliate her out of the resentment he holds against her and the situation she got him in?

Lando musters up some sort of guard, distaste returning after its five month long hiatus, “Fine. I’ll let McLaren know. This works anyway. You served your purpose, got my reputation back to where it was before you came in and fucking destroyed it. You ruin everything, you know that, Y/n?”

She nods, cries intensifying at what she had been afraid of: his hatred for her returning after getting to know a side of him so tender.

“Got it, Lando.” She whispers, slinking past him and out of the building.

He watches her walk away, confused at how he had confessed his love for her and ended it by telling her she was destructive.

She isn’t. How could he say that?

How could he tell the one woman who had built him up that she had tore him down? How could he let frustrated anger replace the love he had for her?

How could he let her get away?

UPDATE: i posted part 2! Find it here.

A/N: TUMBLR GLITCHED OUT AND WAS CRACKING DOWN AT HOW LONG THIS WAS SO I WILL MAKE A PART TWO WITH A HAPPY ENDING I PROMISE

#mclaren #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagines #mclaren formula 1 #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris fic #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris #lando norris x you #lando norris edit

5K notes · View notes

rosyblooom · 7 months ago

Text

not so perfect strangers | ln4 smau

PAIRING: lando norris x private fem!reader SUMMARY: after getting completely splashed by a passing car, y/n throws all 'stranger danger' warnings out the window and hitches a ride home.

Instagram

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: OMFG THIS CAR JUST SPLASHED ME NOW I'M SOAKED😭😭😭 couldn't even see the driver ughh ]

[ caption: it's been almost 1 hr and i still look like a wet rat🙃 soo guess who's hitching a ride? (if i don't update within 2 hrs CALL THE POLICE PLS) ]

[ tagged: yourbestfriend, yourfriend + more ]

Instagram

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: no need to worry anymore, your girl made it back home🙂‍↕️ ]

[ tagged: yourbestfriend, yourfriend + more ]

Instagram

yourusername

liked by yourbestfriend, landonorris, yourfriend and 68 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername "stranger danger" but not this one !! 🙂‍↕️

view all 22 comments

yourfriend girl what- is this who I think it is???

yourusername 🤭🤭

yourbestfriend UHM DINNER TOOO????

yourusername messaging u rn girly🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

landonorris Again soon?👀

yourusername again tmrw? landonorris Again tomorrow. yourbestfriend what. the. fuck.

yourfriend pretty girl <33

(liked by author)

landonorris posted to his story!

[ caption: Day 2 ]

[ tagged: yourusername ]

Twitter

Instagram

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption 1: mixing friend groups >>> ] [ caption 2: another day, another slay 🙂‍↕️ ]

[ tagged: landonorris, yourbestfriend, yourfriend + more ]

Tiktok

A couple days later...

yourusername posted to her close friends!

[ caption 1: lol ] [ caption 2: bye ]

Instagram

yourusername posted to her close friends!

[ caption 1: this is awkward ahaha... how about we all just forget about my silly goofy little story FOREVER AGO pretty please😁 ]

[ tagged: landonorris ]

story replies:

yourbestfriend "he's dead to me"🤡🤡

yourusername pfft tomato tomato right ahaha 😁

yourfriend folding after only 5 days is clown shit lmfao

yourfriend LMAOOO where did all that energy go??

yourusername new phone who dis😀

yourfriend Y/N STAND TF UP OMFG???

yourusername b-but pretty flowers🥺 yourfriend a lost cause I see...

yourfriend I spy with my little eye a whole damn circus!

yourfriend so real tbh

yourusername i knew you'd get me babe 🙂‍↕️

[ ... ]

yourusername posted to her close friends!

[ caption: STOP EATING ME UP IN THE REPLIES OMFG?? PLS FRIENDS I'M JUST A GIRLLL ]

A few months later...

Instagram

f1gossipofficial

liked by username, username, username, and 13,007 others

f1gossipofficial According to this picture sent to us by a fan in China, it seems Lando Norris has brought Y/N along with him for the upcoming Grand Prix.

The duo has been the subject of rumours and sightings together for a while now. Could this weekend finally mark the debut of a new wag?

They certainly appear close in the photo! 👀

view all 845 comments

username just fell to my knees in walmart🧎‍♂️

username aw that picture is so cuteee i already love them together <33

username i feel like she's stuck up tbh cause i've been requesting to follow her for almost a month now and nothing. like girl you're not that important please😒

username uhmm...you're a weirdo username lmaooo how about you go live your life then if she isn't that important what💀

username I saw them too!! I asked for a pic with lando and she was super sweet and took it for us :)

username aw that makes me happy to hear username she did the same for me in monaco 🫶

username she gives bad vibes...

username y'all say that about everyone omg stfu

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption 1: entering my lucky charm era hmm?👀 ] [ caption 2: AHHH P2 OMFG!!!! SO PROUD OF U LAN ❤️ ❤️ (you're welcome also 😌) ]

[ tagged: landonorris ]

lando.jpg

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo, martingarrix, and 501,883 others

lando.jpg 🇨🇳

view all 3,097 comments

username rip lando's single era 😞💔

username crying and throwing up fr

yourusername ❤️

(liked by author)

username day 593 of begging you to make your insta public🥹 username with the way y'all treated Luisa I doubt that will happen username who tf is y'all?🤨

username P2 LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOO

username ik everyone's been hating but I actually like that y/n's super private bc it shows she's with him for the right reasons :)

username right she seems genuine 🫶

username so proud of you lando 🧡🧡

username LAST PIC SHOULD BE MEEE

1:22 ───────ㅇ───── 2:22

2K notes · View notes

jo-com · 5 months ago

Note

Oscar but with a very dear-like girlfriend (she's very shy, skittish and very rare to see on social media because she avoids the cameras like the plague)

🩰 ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ୨ৎ ➛ Bambi

Oscar Piastri x Fem!reader

Summary: Based of the request☝🏻

Genre: Fluff and a little bit of SMAU

Fc: Kathryn Bernardo

Note: there are some grammar errors and i am sorry if i just answered this request now, i was finishing some of my og works in my draft soo i hope you enjoyed this!!.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist

─────── ─ ⊹⁺ 💋⋅˚₊𐙚 ─ ───────

The bustling city roared with excitement— the mix of music and chatters filled the lively streets. Within that, two friends were walking amongst the crowd when they suddenly spotted one particular driver that was walking at the side with a girl?

With nerves that fueled both their curiosity and joy, they slowly approached the couple with smiles that stretched across their faces.

One of them lightly tapping Oscar’s shoulder making the couple turn around to completely face the two. “Uhm hi, me and my friend saw you guys and were wondering to get a picture?”she spoke, some of her words came out stuttered.

Before answering, Oscar looked back at you— his eyes curling into questionable ones,”Is that alright with you my love?” He asked, his tone soft and gentle. Like he always have with you.

“Yeah baby it’s fine” you muttered, your voice barely audible, but was loud enough for him to hear.

Oscar knew how anxious and shy you get whenever there are others; it was a habit you developed when you were small that came with you throughout adulthood. Luckily you met a guy who was willingly patient for you to open up.

And you were forever grateful for that.

The two friends looked at awe at their relationship, their eyes shined with adoration, but their minds still processing the new found information.

It was never said or announced that Oscar had a girlfriend— she was also rarely seen in both the media and the paddock. So they were shock to see a girl that nestled close to his embrace.

Oscar coughed, getting the attention of the two, he smiled at them and answered back politely, “yeah sure, we can take a picture.”

The two girls squealed with happiness as they put out their phone and took one or two shots of pictures.

After that, the friends thanked them both and let them to enjoy the lively city.

…

Liked by 3,678 others

Randm_girlie OMFG JS MET THE OSCAR PIASTRI (I still can’t believe it)

Tagged; @M_Bff

View all the comments

Username1 WAIT WHO IS HE WITH

Username2 wth who is she!?!!

Username3 Does @Mclaren know abt this!

Username4 EWWW WTF

Username5 I’ve not seen her in the paddock

Randm_girlie CHILL GUYS, it’s his gf and she’s very pretty in person💕

Username6 ohh gross

Username7 js like u??

Username8 WAIT I JUST SAW HER INSTA

Username9 damn that fast?

Username8 It’s @Just.yn but it’s private

Username16 saw them once, they’re perfect

Username17 SHES NICE ASF AND GETS VERY SHY I LOVE HER

…

With that single picture— the two of you have been the talk of the social. People from his circle and friend group asked numerous times who you were and whether or not the rumors were true.

They were honestly begging for details.

“My baby is so famous”, Oscar joked, his hand sliding up to caress your cheeks.

You playfully rolled your eyes and pouted, “Not funny osc, you know how i hate attention.”

Oscar let out a few giggle and pinched your cheeks. “Too late baby, you’re just too adorable that people are so interested in you.”

“Should i be jealous?” He added, his face jokingly shifted into a shock.

You happily laughed back at his antics. The two of you sharing a laugh as you guys joked around some more.

…

Liked by Mclaren, Just.yn, Charles_leclerc and 4,789,701 others

Oscarpiastri Compilation of me and her (this is the closest you will get to seeing her pictures)

Tagged; @Just.yn

View all comments

Username10 SHES SO PRETTY WHAT

Username11 R U GATEKEEPING HER SIR??

Oscarpiastri yes she’s mine forever

Username12 CAN SHE BE MINE

Oscarpiastri uhm no.

Username13 Admin come get ur boy

Landonorris No wonder you don’t hangout with me anymore🙁

Oscarpiastri she’s way better ngl

Username14 BRUTAL😭

Username15 WAIT SHE KINDA FINE

Oscarpiastri KINDA??? Girl please she’s hella fine

McLaren We need to teach you some selfcontrol☺️

…

I hope i did it okay?? Idk it felt off🥹🥹

1K notes · View notes

earlysunshines · 2 months ago

Text

order for delivery!

pham hanni x fem!reader

synopsis: hanni is a terrible multi-tasker and it's very evident when her phone is in between her ear and shoulder while she orders delivery. she's messily figuring out what to tackle on her calendar first as she mumbles her order, what lecture notes to go over, when her midterms fall---and oops, she just said 'love you, bye' to the worker on the other end of the phone.

warnings: none(?) i think it's just rly silly and cute and fluffy ; anything else i didn't mention ; not proofread

a/n: ugh she's so cute and such a loser and UGH anyways i wrote this so quickly but maybe that's because i love thsi fic so much it was so so so fun to write omfg ENJOY!!

hanni is a terrible multitasker, it only ends up in her getting things mixed up and done slower. still, she does it anyway.

her phone is tucked awkwardly between her ear and shoulder, fingers tapping at the laptop keyboard while scrolling through lecture notes. “uh, yeah… chicken lo mein with extra chicken… and um also…” she squinted at the calendar on her screen. “what was i supposed to— oh, right… midterm next wednesday. right, cool.”

on the other end you listened patiently, smiling to yourself and holding back a small giggle as she mumbled half an order while clearly being busy with other things.

“wait, sorry!” she apologizes quickly, realizing she hadn’t ordered what minji and haerin had asked for. “also six steamed pork dumplings— no, twelve please. shrimp fried rice and… wait, i already said that, right? ugh—anyway, just, yeah, add that too.”

you ring it all up, smiling wider. “anything else?”

there’s a brief moment of silence until you hear, “huh? oh, no, that’s it.” she replies absentmindedly. she had been paying no attention at all, flipping through her notes and muttering to herself quietly about what she needed to review before the weekend. “uh, yeah, thanks—love you, bye.”

another beat of silence passes before you chime in, voice playful. “love you too.”

you could practically hear her freeze, the realization hits her. you hear a gasp on the other end of the phone, sharp and followed by a small curse.

‘w-wait, what?” hanni stammers, cheeks heating up like crazy. everything hanni had been bombarded with halts. her hands freeze on the laptop, her phone almost slips from her shoulder, and the papers she had been holding with the other hand have all landed on teh counter. everything hanni had been thinking about—midterm wednesday, lecture notes, module 2.2, chapter three reading—dissapear from her mind in a blink.

she hears a laugh on the other end, then a voice that sends a shiver down her spine.

“your total is $28.41, by the way.”

“god, i’m sorry.” hanni rushes out the apology, face palming herself. “i didn’t mean it— not that i don’t love you! well, i mean, i don’t know you, so i don’t love you. not that i hate you! no hard feelings. i’m not saying you’re— okay i’m, i’m going to go. bye. thank you. sorry.”

hanni presses the red button on her phone, ending the call and cringing to herself. hanni is more than glad that her friends in the living room hadn’t heard the most embarassing phonecall of her life. if any of them were to witness it, she’d never live it down. her cheeks are fuming against her hand; she’s a mess, she really needs to stop tackling twelve things at once even though it brings her some type of comfort—less chaos during lots of chaos makes it seem like something manageable.

she clicks through a bunch of tabs, skims through a few lines on her paper, and then closes her laptop. she does this while being distracted by the whole one minute interaction from earlier, shooting herself in the head mentally everytime she thinks of it.

less than twenty minutes later, the delivery guy shows up. hanni knows it’s not the person on the phone, because when the man speaks, it’s not the same voice that sent a weird shiver down her spine when she realized they said “love you too” back to her.

she takes the two bags over to her living room, setting them down in front of two ravenous students—otherwise known as her best friends danielle and minji—watching their eyes sparkle just from the sight. she rolls her eyes at them, sitting down against her small couch and leaning against as they waste no time to dig in and unbox.

hanni’s the last one to reach in and grab something to munch on—mistake number one. mistake number two is catching minji furrowing her brows at a piece of paper, pickiing it up and reading, instead of stopping her before she can do any of that.

her best friend reads it outloud in a confused tone: “i put two extra fortune cookies in there,” minji begins, danielle scoots over to read too. “hope your fortune is as sweet as your voice. love, the girl you don’t hate, but don’t love :(“

“p.s. you sound cute when you’re caught off guard ;-)”

minji finishes reading, and then the two of her friends look up, staring down hanni.

“hanni, what’s this?”

“i— give me that!” hanni says, face burning up. she swipes the paper from minji’s hand, looking at the paper and covering it with her hand like her friends hadn’t just read it together. she cringes, closing her eyes and falling down on teh floor. “i’m an idiot.”

“hanniiiiii” danielle whines, scooting over to shake her by her shoulders while she’s on the floor. “what’s that about? do you have an admirer or something?”

“i can’t tell you, i just, i’m so stupid.”

“dude, what?” minji questions, completely ignoring the steaming, delicious food on the coffee table. “explain—now.”

hanni feels her heart beating like crazy, then she gives in and sits up. her face is most definitely beet red, maybe even worse when she glances at the note again.

“i accidentally said ‘love you, bye’ to the worker on the phone.” hanni says quietly, shaking her head. “and she said it back.”

“she what?” danielle and minji say in unison, looking at her in disbelief.

hanni lets out a weird noise, overwhelmed and flustered beyond words. she looks down at the note again through the spaces in her fingers as she covers her face, not noticing any name or anything that might lead to another encounter with the mystery girl on the other end of the line. this disappoints her a bit, but even if she were to have a name or number or anything, she wouldn’t be able to face you.

after getting teased to death, the trio indulges in food after a very long and tiring study session. the conversation shifts to annoying professors, upcoming midterms, plans for when they all have free time—but hanni is still thinking of you, oddly enough.

—

a little over a week from that day, hanni orders takeout again. she’s somehow forgotten (for the most part) her embarrassing interaction, probably because her midterm is tomorrow and she’s completely forgotten to eat. her phone sits in between her shoulder and ear again, head tilted awkwardly to rush out an order.

“alpha waves, altruism, anorexia nervosa… shit, sorry. um yeah, i’d like six steamed dumplings please, pork. umm… chow mein— no, scratch that. shrimp fried rice please.” her words are hurried out her mouth as she furrows her brows at her laptop screen, clicking through slides and trying to comprehend two units of psychology in one night. “that’s it, thank you, love you.”

hanni stops in place, frozen in shock. there is no way.

“wow, you must be smitten, huh?” she hears on the end of the line, followed by a small chuckle. “love you too, ‘hp.’” hanni had never used her full name when ordering things, well, only food. she always had this fear of sharing her legal name unless it was for unconsumable orders. “your total is $14.89 by the way.”

you hear a groan on the end of the line, followed by what sounds like pens and pencils hitting the floor.

“...you alright?”

hanni, caught off guard by the whole conversation for the most part, but also the fact that you noticed how she had just spilled half her supplies onto her apartment floor, answers with a simple, “yeah.”

“that’s good to hear.”

“i’m really sorry, again, for the… you know.”

“your undying love for me?”

“what?” hanni says, completely disregarding the pens, pencils, and highlighters on the floor. “i- no! no. i’m not in love with you! i didn’t mean it—”

“i’m teasing, hp.” she hears the smile in your voice. “would you like an extra fortune? last time i had heard from you i remember something about a midterm.”

“you remembered?” it sounds a little pathetic, maybe desperate coming from hanni, but hanni couldn’t care less. she’s tired, overwhelmed, and has gone over so much work in the span of a few days that she really can’t think or function correctly.

“yeah, not many people sound as young as you. it’s usually a parent or something ordering for their family at this time. plus, you made my shift.” you confess, “i thought it was cute, you know, how frantic you had ordered your meal.”

“i’m really sorry about that, like seriously, i’m really, really sorry.”

“it’s okay hp.”

“right, yeah. i uh, i have to study. sorry— i don’t know why i’m saying sorry, ugh, sorry. thanks, bye.”

“no ‘love you?’” you ask, and before hanni can answer you respond, “kidding. i’ll throw in two fried wontons, have a good night hp.”

the call ends and hanni blinks a few times as she tries to process what just happened. she’s embarrassed beyond words, just as flustered too. there might even be a blush on her cheeks, she can’t stop thinking about how smooth you were with your teasing, plus the way your voice sounded.

hanni thinks it’s the midterm getting to her, the stress. she cleans up the mess on the floor and goes through her vocabulary notes. she hears a knock on the door twenty minutes later which makes her jump in her seat.

she grabs the bag of fried rice and dumplings, placing it on the counter before taking everything out. hanni hears her stomach rumble a bit, she definitely underestimated how hungry she was.

before hanni digs in, she notices two fortune cookies and a note at the bottom. she completely ignores the cookies, grabbing the note and opening it up to see the same small handwriting from last time:

“i’m guessing your initials are hp? i could be wrong…

hp like harry potter? it makes sense because you’re magical.

good luck on your midterm! hopefully you’ll order for a post-midterm celebration.

p.s. there are extra fried wontons ;p”

hanni smiles as she reads the note. pause. hanni stops smiling immediately when she becomes aware of the fact that she’s smiling because of a note. a note from a mystery woman on the other end of the line.

—

midterms are over, all of them. hanni had gone through all four midterms. all four. hanni’s burnt out to oblivion, finding comfort in her bed as soon as she gets back from her last midterm. she checks her messages and is greeted by the groupchat she’s in with danielle and minji.

minji: FINALLY i feel like a fish that’s been gutted out it’s not even finals lowk wasn’t even that bad actually how about you guys

danielle: my midterm is in an hour! wish me luck :D how was yours hanni?

hanni: i’m about to PASS OUT why did i choose forensics

minji: because you’re a nerd don’t let one biology midterm screw you over who’s going to take care of my body parts when i suddenly get murdered

danielle: woah quite a situation, no?

hanni: uagghshhskafhjk i’m going to sleep GOODNIGHT do you guys want to come over later dani do you need time to unwind before you come over

danielle: no that’s alright! i find your apartment quite cozy i’ll just crash there right after, thanks han okay i’m going to review a bit more wish me luck!

minji: good luck mo dani!! you can do it we love you

hanni: good luck! you’ve got this

danielle: ❤️

hanni smiles at danielle’s message, she’s always so positive—even through text, even during these trying times. she decides to pass out for almost two hours, waking up groggy and finding herself almost tripping all the way back to her couch in the living room. she sighs as she collapses onto the cushions, waiting for minji and danielle to come over.

then her thoughts race back to you, embarassingly enough. she thinks about your stupid flirting, your stupid voice, and the stupid giggle she could hear through the phone. she thinks about how stupid she is for smiling, how stupid she is. everything is stupid.

hanni is fantasizing about some random person she’s ordered affordable chinese food from, she doesn’t even know her name.

(hanni’s brain is mush.)

instinctively, she goes through her recent calls, dialing the number of the restaurant that serves her favorite dumplings.

it rings for a few seconds before someone answers, “hello?”

the voice isn’t familiar whatsoever, hanni feels a strange discomfort in her stomach.

hanni doesn’t realize that she hasn’t spoken a word until the second “hello?” is uttered. she breaks from her trance.

“hi, hello, yeah, hi.”

“hello, what can i get you?”

hanni purses her lips before replying, “oh, um.” she sounds like a sad child. “fried rice, i’ll do chicken. wontons, fried, twelve of them. could i also get beef-broccoli lo mein?”

she hears nothing for about three seconds, then a hum. “got it, could i get a name for that order?”

“hp.”

“y/n’s ‘hp?’” who the hell is y/n? hanni thinks to herself.

“what?”

“nevermind.” the worker says with her monotone voice. “will that be it?”

“yeah, thank you.” hanni doesn’t say ‘love you’ this time. she tells herself it’s because she’s not preoccupied with at least three things in that same moment, but a part of it is because it’s not the same voice that she had been expecting to hear. “what’s the total?”

“$24.12. it’ll be over in a little more than twenty minutes.”

“okay, thank you.” hanni says, and instead of hearing something snarky back—she hears a hum, and then the call ends.

…

you walk into work later than usual, one of your midterms had been pushed a bit later, so your hours were cut off.

as you walk in, you catch your coworker’s head snap up. as soon as she realizes it’s you, she relaxes a bit.

“good evening haerin!” you beam, somehow upbeat and lively even after your grueling calculus midterm. “miss me?”

“just had to take more calls than i ever do in one week.” she sighs, watching you move over behind the counter and push your bag under the desk. “so maybe a little.”

“awww, you missed me so much.”

“shut up.” haerin groans, sitting down in the little chair where no customers can catch her. “you know what you missed?”

“what?”

“your girlfriend called—miss hp.”

“hp?!” you say it like you’ve just missed the train that comes every two hours. “seriously? did she say ‘love you?’”

“of course that’s what you’re so animated about.” haerin rolls her eyes at you, shrugging. “she didn’t.”

a sigh of relief escapes your lips, a very exaggerated one for that matter. then you frown, sitting down in the spinny chair nearby and rotating yourself in your seat like a little kid.

“i can’t believe i missed her.”

“you’re actually insane for flirting with a customer.”

“she has a cute voice.”

“you don’t even know her y/n.” haerin scoots over, but only to flick you in the forehead. she leans back in her seat, smirking. you rub your skin and pout at her, making her roll her eyes once more before she continues on, “she could be old, crinkly, and married or something. what if she’s like… balding? what if her teeth are falling out and she—”

“why are you assuming the worst haerin. you’re so— whatever. she sounds my age, i guess. it’s just fun to mess around, it’s cute.”

“i will never get you.” your coworker crosses her arms, jumping at the sound of the phone ringing. “could you get that? i’ve run out of social battery.”

“it’s a phone call haerin.”

“talking to you drained me already.”

you frown, making her giggle at you.

—

the next time hanni calls is two days later, because she’s a loser that can’t seem to get the thought of the chinese restaurant employee who keeps flirting with her (albeit smoothly) out of her head. the phone rings twice, then someone picks up, and hanni waits eagerly.

“hi, pledis plates, how can i help?” it’s you, it’s you. the memory of hearing ‘y/n’s hp?’ pops up in her head—could you be y/n? you have to be.

“hi.” hanni says simply, biting the inside of her lip. she hears a small chuckle on the other end of the line, slightly relieved.

“if it isn’t hp.” it comes out cheeky, making hanni blush. “missed you, you know?”

“what?”

“did you miss me too?”

“i–” yes. hanni did miss you, not like she’d admit it, at least out loud. “i’d like to order dumplings.”

“harsh.” you respond jokingly, “six, pork, and steamed, got it.”

“you memorized it?”

“you ordered it last time.”

hanni can’t help but laugh, smiling as she holds the phone against her ear. “you must be head over heels to be remembering my order.”

“you’re the one who confessed first though?”

“that was a mistake.”

“uh huh.” amusement is laced in your tone. “it’ll be five dollars, should be there in less than twenty.”

“great.”

hanni doesn’t know what else to say. you both pause, letting silence and the faint static ring in your ears.

“what happened to the usual goodbye?”

hanni feels herself shrinking in her bed, feet kicking slightly, blush forming. god, she’s head over heels, she’s insane, she doesn’t know a single thing about you other than the fact that you have a really endearing voice and that your flirting is enough to have her smiling like an idiot.

“thanks, bye.” neither of you hang up after hanni says it, knowing there’s something missing. hanni pinches the bridge of her nose, feeling her stomach closing in on herself and simultaneously doing a flip. her heart nearly jumps out of her chest as she chokes out, “love you.”

“i was waiting for that one.”

“a-are you— really?”

“yeah.” you simply state, and you say nothing else but, “bye hp.”

“you’re not going to say it back?”

you grin to yourself. hanni hears a small, amused laugh fromthe other end, sending a shiver down her spine. “i don’t fold that easy, maybe next time.” you hang up right after, leaving hanni dumbfounded.

hanni looks at her phone like you’re going to call back, but you don’t. she drops the phone on her bed, putting both hands over her face and feeling her skin burn against her palms. she groans, then groans again, and sighs finally.

maybe next time. there’s going to be a next time—hanni has that at least.

—

hanni calls again the next monday, around two days after the last call. it’s the same day she had first said the infamous ‘love you’ to you on accident. she calls at around the same time, laptop on her lap as she taps lightly on the backspace key, though not enough to actually press it. she wonders to herself for a moment, is the dent in her wallet really worth it? has she really reached rock bottom?

“pledis plates, what would you like to order?”

it’s not you. hanni sinks into the cushion of her couch and feels herself deflate. she can’t always call with the assumption that you’ll pick up, there are other employees after all. this time, it’s the same monotone voice she had heard before, a stark contrast to your flirtatious, lively tone.

“hi, i’d just like—”

“ah, hp.”

“how did you—”

“i remember your voice from last time. y/n was quite sad when she realized she’d missed your call by twenty minutes.”

“what do you mean?”

“she came into work late, midterms or something.”

midterms. the information alone gives her the assumption that you’re also in college, maybe even in her grade, and if she’s pushing it maybe you even go to her university. she conjures up a better picture of you now, not quite clear or concrete, but it’s something.

“is she a student?”

“i don’t know if i can leak that, she told me to be very secretive about her. i don’t think you’ll have trouble finding out more though, she never shuts up.”

hanni snickers, so you’re a talker too. yeah, hanni’s into that.

“well now i know her name.”

“do what you will with that.” the girl mutters. hanni hears a small sigh, then another response, “hey, y/n was curious about you. are you in high school?”

“what— no! do i sound like it?”

“you sound young.” the girl on the end of the line—haerin—shrugs. she continues, “y/n thinks you’re the same age as her, she also assumes you’re cute. i guess no one will know until a miracle happens.”

“i can’t tell if you’re insulting me.” hanni chuckles awkwardly, but haerin doesn’t respond. “but if it helps, anyway, i’m a sophomore in college. tell her i’m interested in forensics.”

“okay.”

silence follows again, but haerin hasn’t hung up, and hanni still holds the phone against her ear expecting something more. hanni decides to take another step, asking, “y/n, how is… could you like, describe her?”

“physically or…? well, i can do a brief description. to start off: annoying, jokes a lot, pretends to be all mopey when insulted. physically: taller than me—i’d say taller than a lot of women. she has a nice smile i guess, but it’s the kind you want to wipe off her face, ugh, it’s like she’s making fun of you when she does it. her hair is also always a little messy, she says its for the ‘appeal,’ but i see none.”

hanni fights back a giggle. this woman has just spilled a good amount, a perfect amount in hanni’s eyes (any amount is alright, anything more than a name). this ‘y/n’ is tall, taller than most women, and hanni is shorter than most; hanni is into that, she loves taller girls. and messy hair too? that’s cute, probably. as long as it’s not the same type of messy that men rock around—men that barely shower or do anything. essentially: compsci majors—then hanni will be alright. you sound wonderful.

“did you want to order anything? or are did you just want to flirt with the idiot.”

“hey! hey, hey. lets not— ugh, okay, could i just get um, six pork dumplings—steamed.”

“okay.” the girl says quietly, and then hanni hears some light tapping. “six dumplings for hp.”

“hanni. it’s hanni. my name is hanni.”

“got it the first time.”

“you’re bright, aren’t you?”

“your order is going to be there later, bye.” and then the girl hangs up, leaving hanni speechless.

—

hanni waits a few days to call, because she doesn’t remember dialing on tuesdays or wednesdays and hearing a voice that brings her a little thrill. she leans against her counter waiting for a response, then lights up when she hears,

“pledis plates, how can i help?”

“y/n.” hanni says, almost relieved. “hi.”

“hi hanni.” your coworker must’ve leaked that conversation, hanni thinks. “nice to hear from you.”

“likewise.”

“can i get six dumplings? pork and—”

“---steamed, yes.” you’re smiling as you say it, like an eager little child. “nothing else?”

“no.”

“alright.” you respond, clicking two tabs and ringing up her order. you don’t give her the cost or anything, staring at the screen and deciding to huff out, “forensics?” you’re starting a real conversion now, what a step.

hanni is smiling hard, she’s so giddy that she’s twirling a piece of hair around her pointer finger.

“yeah, i think it’s nice.”

“cute.” you mumble, “i’m studying kinesiology.”

“is that so?”

“unfortunately.” you say lightheartedly. hanni doesn’t know what to respond with, she wants to continue the conversation and hear your voice longer, but there’s nothing she can think of. does she ask for your number? how you are? hanni is useless, she’s always been useless when it came to girls.

“hanni?”

“y-yes?” hanni cringes at the slight stutter.

“your total is five dollars. it’ll be there soon.”

“oh,” hanni says sadly, “i mean, um. okay.”

and then she hangs up, a little defeated, but there’s always a next time…right?

when her food gets there, she hurriedly pays the delivery driver, making her wallet cry even more. there’s a note in the bag, along with two fortune cookies. the note has your name and a number on it, making hanni gasp and smile to herself again. there’s a little ‘text me, miss hanni. i’m looking forward to it.’ and as soon as hanni reads it, she clasps her hands together, squeals quietly into them, giggles, and kicks her feet in the air.

hanni tries to do some schoolwork, managing to get ten minutes of reading down, a few sentences jotted down, and then the rest of the time she’s thinking about her new saved contact. she hasn’t texted you yet, mainly because she had been overthinking about what and when to text you. she contemplates texting danielle and minji about it, but she’d just be teased.

this is the first time in a while since hanni’s gotten anywhere close to something romantic, or maybe this is platonic, but the flirting doesn’t support that idea. she’s tried tinder—once, once and never again—and going to parties. nothing works out, none of them make her giddy and giggly like this.

before she knows it, two hours have passed, and so she decides to send a simple “hi, this is hanni!’

too enthusiastic? too bland? too basic? ugh. hanni groans, lying on her couch in an uncomfortable position.

you reply almost immediately with ‘hey, i’m off in twenty minutes. let’s call?’ and hanni has to put the phone to her chest, looking up at the ceiling in disbelief.

twenty minutes passes by too quickly, hanni hasn’t even figured out what to say. she looks at her phone, waiting for you to call, and when you do, she short circuits; hanni drops her phone on her face.

“hello?” it’s you.

it’s you.

“hey. um, how was work?”

“aw, even asking me about work.” she can hear the smirk in your tone, rolling her eyes as she smiles to herself. “it was fine, my favorite part was when this girl ordered pork dumplings though. she has a cute voice.”

“is that so?”

“yeah. hey, can i ask you something?”

“what is it?”

“i work tomorrow, but its the morning shift. i end at one, i was you know… wondering if you… wanted…” you sound nervous, this is a first for hanni. “if you wanted to share some dumplings, free of charge.”

hanni covers her mouth almost immediately, suppressing any signs of her freaking out.

“are you asking me out?”

“only if you say yes.”

you hear a giggle before you hear a “yes.”

“really?”

“mhm.” hanni smiles again, thinking of something that’ll leave you just as flustered. “okay, well… i’ll see your tomorrow. bye, love you.”

“love you too hanni.”

—

minji’s usually the one who picks up orders if it’s not delivery, and hanni is almost always taking the orders. so when hanni enters the shop for the first time, she’s quite fond of the smell of ingredients being stir fried or steamed, as well as the interior of the place. it’s very nice inside, hopefully the nice person she’s been meaning to see shows up soon.

there’s a girl by the counter, she’s only slightly taller than hanni, and her eyes are oddly cat-like. she looks up at her with those eyes, then shoots a small smile.

“hi, how can i help?” this is who the monotone voice belongs to. her image somehow matches perfectly with the voice.

“hi, i’m hanni.” as soon as she introduces herself, the workers eyes widen.

“woah, you’re real.”

“surprising, i know.”

“y/n is changing in the back—she was eager to get off fives minutes early so she wouldn’t be in uniform when you showed up.” haerin explains, shaking her head. “it’s nice to meet you, you’re very pretty.”

“thank you! i appreciate it. you’re pretty as well.”

haerin doesn’t get to respond. the person who does respond is the girl walking up to the register, scooting haerin to the side with her knuckles and tapping at the screen. the girl isn’t in uniform, and she’s also really good looking.

you run a hand through your hair as you clock out through the system. “hey, did hanni ever stop by?” you ask haerin, not looking up from the screen because you’ve typed your code in wrong.

“look up idiot.” your coworker snickers, and when you do, you’re met with the most gorgeous girl you’ve ever seen.

you notice her right away, hair flowing down past her chest, curtain bangs perfectly framing her face. her plump lips and striking features make you pause. sure, you expected her to be pretty—maybe even conventionally attractive, everyone is in their own way—but seeing her in person? she’s beyond that, practically model material. my god. your lips part slightly in surprise, and you catch yourself, quickly swallowing as you both smile at each other at the same time.

you clock out—thankfully not typing in the wrong code again from nervousness—and step out from behind the counter. a small tote bag hangs from your shoulder, and a plastic bag dangles in your hand. you glance down at it.

“twelve dumplings—steamed, pork, everything you like—for the pair.”

hanni’s smile lights up her face, and you can't help but think about how adorable she looks, how effortlessly charming she is.

“why thank you,” she says, her voice soft and playful. it sounds better in person than through the phone.

“you’re gorgeous, by the way,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself, still marveling at her. “like, i expected you to be pretty, but… wow.” you can tell haerin is fake gagging or rolling her eyes or something like that from behind, she’s probably already on her way to avoid witnessing this interaction.

hanni blushes instantly, the red creeping up her cheeks. if she were at home, she’d probably be giggling and kicking her feet, but for now, she just looks away shyly, smiling. “thanks, you’re really cute too.”

“you think?”

“yes.” she meets your eyes, still flushed. “can we eat? i’m hungry.”

“right, yeah. i hope it’s not too forward, but is the park nearby good? we can settle down and, um… talk more. you know, more than just about your usual order.”

hanni laughs—you might die right then and there—before responding, “that’s perfect,” and then she nods, looking at you. her eyes are soft and warm and wonderful.

“great,” you echo.

“great,” she repeats, a small laugh escaping her.

you both walk side by side, still a little stiff at first, the mutual attraction between you creating an unspoken tension. but as you settle into the rhythm of conversation, the initial awkwardness fades away, replaced by the easy flow of natural chemistry. each step feels lighter, the distance between you shrinking with every passing word.

—

hanni hears a knock at her door, confused because she hadn’t expected any guests other than minji and danielle—who are already in her living room leeching off her netflix account.

she opens it to see you, which immediately brings a smile to her face. she almost leaps over to hug you, nearly making you drop the large bag in your hand.

“someone missed me.”

“shut up.” hanni says before pecking your lips. she looks at you, your dorky, adorable face, and then presses another longer kiss. “come in babe. i didn’t expect you to be here.”

“i got off early because i had to cover. i wanted to surprise you, and i know you had company over.”

“oh yeah,” hanni had almost forgotten that her best friends had been there.

she leads you over, helping you take off your tote and setting it on her counter. her friends catch the two of you from their peripheral and wave, then their eyes light up at the sight of the familiar bag in your hand. you set it down, placing a the container of fried rice, lo mein, and dumpling down as they treat you like a savior.

“thank you so much, i owe you my first born.” danielle says, giving you a playful pout.

minji snickers, scooting up to the coffee table. “you’re the best thing that’s happened to us—to hanni.”

you look over to your girlfriend, that’s right, she’s your girlfriend. hanni is rolling her eyes at you, pushing your shoulder, and then pulling you in by the wrist to sit next to her. she’s not one for pda—especially in front of danielle and minji—but under the table her fingers graze your skin, which makes you smile.

you grab a secret container from behind your back, handing it to hanni. when she opens it, she opens her mouth, shocked and grateful for the six steamed pork dumplings that you brought just for her.

#kpop x reader #newjeans imagines #newjeans x reader #new jeans x reader #newjeans hanni #hanni pham x reader #pham hanni x reader #hanni x reader #pham hanni #hanni pham

663 notes · View notes

sun4r1nnity · 3 months ago

Text

a star that outshines

fem!reader x second year!miya osamu

oneshot, fluff

“Miya twins are amazing, aren’t they?”

“Undeniably, yeah.”

“They are truly monsters on the court.”

An ocean of compliments about the Miya twins drowns the whole atmosphere, the talented and skillful brothers who have made their names in the volleyball industry. You mentally agree with each of the positive comments about the brothers, while your eyes are locked onto the specific grey-haired twin, Miya Osamu.

Yeah, you have a crush on THE Miya Osamu.

You like him so much that you started going to their practice matches almost every day like everyone else, just to see him play. The sound of the ball hitting the court, the squeak of sneakers, and the cheers of the crowd become the soundtrack of your afternoons. The smell and sweat and the sight of his focused expression make your heart race.

You like him so much that you intentionally leave at the same time he leaves his dorm just so you can walk near him. And it works, because you always coincidentally walk behind him and his friends, listening to whatever they are talking about. The scent of his cologne lingers in the air, a subtle reminder of his presence.

You like him so much that you started visiting your best friend, Hikari, in Class 1, just hoping to see him and wishing that he would notice you too. The anticipation of possibly seeing him makes your heart race every time you walk into the classroom.

You like him so much that when you accidentally learned his favorite food, you started liking what he likes too. The taste of his favorite dish becomes a bittersweet experience, a connection to him that he doesn’t even know exists.

You like him so much that you wrote love letters, but they were never sent to him. Because you’re afraid.

Afraid to face the fact that he will most definitely reject you.

Because he’s Miya Osamu, whose fame is at the top of the school alongside his twin Miya Atsumu, and of course, they have a bunch of pretty girls lined up to be their girlfriends.

So one night in your dorm, you asked your best friend.

“Am I being a creep?”

She raised her eyebrows, eyes still glued to her phone with a lollipop in her mouth.

“Not really, why?”

“I think I’m being a creep,” you huffed out a sigh.

“Why would ya think that? 'S not like ya peep him in the bathroom or send him ya unwashed panties—”

“I reeeally don’t like your use of examples.”

“Well, 'kay, listen, it’s totally normal when yer in love! And as long as ya don’t do anything stupidly crazy, yer safe as hell,” she continues as she sits up and stares down at you.

You hum, staring at the ceiling blankly as your friend continues to scroll through her social media. You think, you have no chance with Miya Osamu. Well, it’s just a crush, you’ll get over him eventually. So that’s when you decide, you have to stop chasing someone who is way out of your league.

And you did. You stopped going to his practice matches, you stopped visiting your best friend so often, you even stopped coincidentally walking near him to school. You avoided him every chance you got, until after a few days it became too obvious. So why, when your best friend has her earphones plugged in, while the teacher is unavailable for class, does Miya Osamu walk up to her and say,

“Hey, uh, been meanin’ to ask,”

Your friend looks up at him with a raised eyebrow as she takes off her earphones.

“Why haven’t I seen ya cute friend lately? Y’know, the one that always comes ta’ hang out with ya?”

And it makes her eyes widen.

Not long after that, she immediately bombs your phone with a whole lotta texts.

hikari🤍

hey

holy shit

omfg

MIYA LIKES YOU TOO

answer me dammit!!!!

YOOO

miya fuckinf osamu LIKES U TOO

OPEN YOUR PHONE

You should have made a move earlier, Osamu,” Suna said, his voice slightly muffled by the jelly stick in his mouth. He glanced up from his phone, his eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and curiosity.

Osamu shrugged as he sank into his chair, the cool metal frame pressing against his back. The faint hum of the gym’s fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, mingling with the distant echoes of volleyballs being spiked and sneakers squeaking on the polished floor.

Little did you know, Osamu had always noticed you from the crowd. He noticed how your eyes would light up during matches, how you would nervously tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. He noticed the way you always seemed to arrive at school just as he did, your steps quickening when you saw him. He noticed everything about you—your smile that could brighten the dullest day, your infectious laughter, your favorite snacks that you always had in your bag.

But you didn’t know that. You didn’t know that he knew about your big, fat crush on him. You didn’t dare to even strike up a conversation with him, always too shy to make the first move. So when he stopped seeing your presence in the crowd, his heart ached with a longing he couldn’t quite understand. That’s when he finally mustered the courage to ask your friend about you.

“Did you ask for her number?” Suna asked, his tone casual but his eyes sharp with interest.

Osamu smiled, a soft, almost shy smile that reached his eyes. He nodded, his fingers tracing the edges of his phone. “(Y/N)⭐️” was saved in his contacts, the star symbol a small but significant detail that made his heart flutter.

Will you be surprised if you received a message?

729 notes · View notes

caramelkoo · 1 month ago

Text

before we shatter — jjk [two]

genre : established relationship, idol!jungkook

word count : 5.1k

summary : dating an idol is fun, they said. having a family with one is fun, they said. Until you're falling face forward because of your reality. A reality where Jungkook dreams of a future and a reality where your own future is collapsed.

chapter warnings : ANGST, eventual fluff, mentions death of a loved one, mentions of Alzheimer's disease, strong language, mature, cheating (not by the main characters), jungkook will piss you off but he's deserving of love too :((, slight making out but nothing else. i think that's it, please mention if i missed anything.

a/n : OH MY GOD IT TOOK ME FOREVER !!!! here it is my pookies <333 i hope this will heal the past trauma that part one caused yall omfg. i love you so much and send an ask if you want to. You're so so cherished.

Jungkook’s fingers press on the digital lock before it beeps, indicating the door has been unlocked.

“Babe, I’m home”

He expects his girlfriend, Nicole to say anything in response but, on the contrary, all he gets is pure silence. Not a single person breathing the same air as him inside the house. His eyebrows crease in utter confusion and he wonders if he she went outside in order to run any errands.

Nicole is a fashion designer who he met when she was appointed to design his concert outfits for the group’s previous world tour. At first, there were some stolen glances, eye contacts, and innocent touches but when he found himself looking for her in the room full of people, it had to be more than that.

At the risk of sounding like a nervous wreck with zero experience with women, Jungkook had walked back and forth approximately 46 times before he took up the hatchet to ask her on a date, to which she’d smirked and whispered a yes in response.

Listen, Jungkook is a confident man. Add a confident yet adorably shy woman beside him and you have got yourself the perfect mix of charisma and charm. Not to say that he was not totally enthralled by her. He genuinely wanted to get to know her better and that’s not only because she was confident, of course.

Ordinarily, he’d find her on the couch going through her designs or making herself the 50th cup of coffee. It all really depends, but tonight the eerie silence surrounding him makes his stomach hurt. A nagging feeling arises in his chest and he hopes everything is okay.

He releases a breath and walks further in towards the bedroom. Who knows, she got tired of working all day and went in there to take a nap.

Much to his disappointment, just as his hands grip the doorknob, a moan comes from the other side of the wall and he freezes.

“You’re so good to mommy, aren’t you?”

He can’t mistake the voice even if he tries to. He hears it all day, every night by his side.

Nicole has complemented him in every spectrum of their relationship. She’d been equally successful, equally fun and adventurous, and matched every desire and aspirations of his.

Tow bodies, one soul if you will.

Turns out, she lagged behind on the spectrum of honesty.

Knowing he can’t be just standing there and not find out who she’s been fucking behind his back, he twists the knob and pushes the door open. The moan which earlier caused his heart to momentarily stop now turning into a full blown scream.

“What the fuck?”

You might prefer to think that Jungkook was the one to exclaim that, but no. Sitting on the bed with wide eyes and no clothes is his manager, Tae moo. Next to him is Nicole, trying to cover herself up with the help of the duvet as if she’d not spent the majority of nights sleeping beside Jungkook in the very same state after he’d made love to her.

“Jungkook, baby. I can explain”

His jaw goes tight, voice turning shaky. “Get out of my house.”

Fierce eyes are pointed at the manager the whole time and he doesn’t even bother to look at Nicole. As if someone had set his non-existent pants on fire,Tae moo hurries and plucks whatever fabric he can from the floor and rushes outside.

When Jungkook finally glances at Nicole, she’s got the same look on her face which she does when she wants something from him but can’t get herself to form the words. Desperate and pleading.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, tone acidic when he asks, “Why are you still here?”

“What?”

“Why? Did he fuck the common sense out of you?”

She blanches at his words, clearly not expecting him to talk like that. “Please don’t talk to me like that. I told you I can explain.”

Jungkook can’t help but let out a chuckle infused with bitterness and disbelief, “What could possibly justify you fucking my manager, Nicole. Were you lonely? Did I not give you enough love and attention? Was my dick not enough for you that you just had to jump on another one?”

Every word that comes out of his mouth has an intention of hurting the woman in front of him. Standing there when Jungkook tries to figure out any possible cause of this betrayal, he registers something.

While Jungkook was thriving because of the fact that he has a woman who supports him and keeps him on his toes, holds him when the world gets mean to him, the said woman was using him to feed her ego. He had been indispensable for her to gain the popularity that was left for her. The truth that he'd been a ladder all along for her in order to climb till success hits him like a torrent and an ache throbs through his chest.

“Why would you need another designer when I’m here?”

“Jungkook c’mon, all my friends are gonna be there. Don’t be a spoilsport.”

“Do they not let you post your girlfriends on your official instagram profile?”

Everything falls into place like a missing piece of puzzle fitting into space. Additionally, Nicole had not even gotten close with any of Jungkook’s friends’ girlfriends and he’d decided not to dwell on the fact for his own peace.

Arguably, some people just don’t click and that’s fine. Except, those people don’t denounce other women behind their back. Her adulterated personality was oozing out of her and he managed to miss it.

“I don’t know, babe. Her dress was too revealing. Take it from a fashion designer when I tell you she was not fit for that dress”

“Isn’t she too touchy with her boyfriend in public? I mean I understand you’re in love but jeez”

It is often said that when you’re in love, you’re unable to see your lover’s flaws because you get blinded. Blinded by their beauty, their charm, and their affection towards you. Safe to say, Jungkook can relate.

“Get out”

‘Please just liste-”

His pitch goes higher. “RIGHT.NOW”

Subsequently, he had been off the market for two whole years. Unfortunately, though, he couldn’t escape the endless amount of impolite and not to mention personal questions about his relationship during the interviews.

“Jungkook, you were seen coming out of several restaurants and clubs with a woman a few years back, but we’ve not seen her for a while now. Is there something you’d like your fans to know?”

“The ladies out there are having a field day because it seems our favourite superstar, Jeon Jungkook is single again”

“Is there any chance of us getting to see the mysterious woman again?”

Fucking exhausting.

Then, one fine day, he met you.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Maybe, the trust issues made home inside of him after he found his ex-girlfriend naked and sweaty on his bed with his manager. Maybe, you can blame it on the fact that he had still not gotten over the agony caused by his past relationship.

It’s almost like the words that come out of his mouth throw him two years back to the very same room where he tasted the vile taste of betrayal.

“Tell me, honey. Is it the important thing you wanted to talk about but held back just to get a good fuck out of me?”

The sentence is so absurd and disgusting that you can’t stop your hands from connecting with his face with a hard force. His face turns sideways as his skin stings because of the slap.

“Watch your tone with me, Jeon Jungkook.” The words are barely a whisper as you gulp, flying into a rage and hoping he eats his own words.

You’re half naked, your hair's a damn mess and you probably have a swollen face with boogers in your eyes, but at this moment, you have to stand up for yourself without caring about any of that. You can’t be the person to take first hand beating of something you haven’t even thought of doing.

When he looks back at you, you wish someone was holding you because your legs feel weak. The look of betrayal and anger is long gone and now the only thing that exists behind those big doe eyes is hurt. A pain which makes you want to disintegrate.

“Baby, I didn’t mean-”

“You know what, _____? I would have seen this coming. I was a fucking fool to even wish for a normal bond with someone without some shit happening to us.”

You watch him storm out the door, slamming it so hard it rattles on its hinges after throwing the blue file on the bed. Your feet remain frozen to the wooden floor and you hope he comes running back in, says he’s sorry and he wants to talk it out.

“Some shit”. He just called the whole situation shit.

A terrible labyrinth of anger, guilt and grief traps you as you find yourself wishing that a tight hug could fix the scattered pieces and mould your relationship back into one beautiful piece.

The words on the report stare back at you as they somehow feel more painful now that your boyfriend is aware of them. He knows he’s got into something he hasn’t signed up for and the thought that before you could even explain everything to him, before you could even tell him that you would rather die but hide anything let alone information as huge as this, he’d walked out.

Placing the file on the nightstand, you go through your usual morning routine. Take a shower, change into fresh clothes and take your supplements.

Everything is blurry to you, the feeling of loss lingering deep in your chest, slightly aware of the fact that physically, Jungkook is nearby, mentally? You’re not so sure.

Despite your better judgement, you walk towards the kitchen with the motive of making your breakfast and you find Jungkook looking for something under the couch with two suitcases standing in front of the door. Was he gonna leave without letting you know? When did he even pack?

You take a deep breath and release, knowing exactly what he is looking for, “Are you looking for your glasses?”

He straightens back up and holds your gaze. There’s a bit of delay before his answer reaches your ears. “Yeah um, I can’t seem to find them anywhere”

A minuscule smile forms on your face, “They’re inside the bedside drawer. I kept them there cause you know, you tend to lose them”

He doesn’t share the humor as you feel a pang in your chest intensifying. It’s suddenly so quiet that you can hear your as well as his breathing. And it’s uneven. Has your home always been this quiet?

You clear your throat, eyes finding the suitcases behind him, “Heading somewhere?”

He does the same and looks back at you. “Yeah uh, you remember Jimin calling me yesterday when we-,” he pauses, “Well, I have to go overseas to promote the album and get done with some other formalities”

You flash him an understanding smile, feeling utterly shattered inside and not sure if you should ask him as to why he didn't bother to let you know or just let it slide. The question is right at the tip of your tongue but thinking better of it, you gulp it back down.

“Of course. How long will you be gone?”

He slides his hands inside his front pockets and sighs, “Probably a week. You can’t be precise when it comes to promotions.”

“Alright,” you halt, “Uh.. do you want me to get the glasses for yo-”

“No, I've got it.” He says as he excuses himself. When he comes back, the glasses are resting on his nose making him look even more beautiful than he already is in your eyes.

A faint memory of you wiping his glasses for him with your slip dress comes to the surface and you hide a smile.

You watch him round the kitchen counter and pick up his jacket. As he grips the suitcases with both of his hands, the gleaming bracelet catches your attention.

What are the odds of him preparing to live without it on his wrist? What are the odds of him preparing to live without you?

You’re not surprised when he begins walking out the front door without saying a word. But you know you have to. You have to let him know that you don’t have any intention of giving up on him.

With your palms turning clammy, you speak and prepare yourself for whatever comes back as a response, “Wait”

His feet come to a stop, but him not bothering to turn around does nothing to ease your ache if not adds to it.

Swallowing, you continue, “Whe-when you come back, I want to talk it out. I want you to know that you mean too much to me for me to hide such a major information from you and one that has to do with both of us at that. Yes, I held back for a while but that’s just because I wanted to forget,” the damn tears are threatening to fall yet again, “I wanted to feel for the last time what it's like to be in your arms, your warmth before I break your heart and mine in the process,” Your fastening heartbeat causes you to grip your cardigan in a tight fist,

“Can I at least get a hug?”

His shoulders visibly go tensed as he admits over his shoulders, “I’m afraid if I so much as look at you for more than a second, I will break.”

With that the front door opens and closes, leaving you with nothing but warm tears. You try your fucking hardest not to take his statement as face value but god you want to curl up and die. Although, you know none of this is your fault. If only you could see what the future holds, everything could have been much more bearable.

You’re scared you’ll lose everything— him, your happiness, your future together.

You’re scared you’ll burn.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

For as long as he can remember, Jungkook’s childhood had been filled with vivid memories of his parents’ kisses, them being madly in love with each other, dancing in the kitchen, planning picnic dates and thousands of giggles. He had been blessed with a mother who loved his father more than Jungkook has ever seen someone loving the other person, and his father reciprocated the love tenfold.

Along with the love he also had another emotion wrapped around his heart in a tight grip. Fear. Fear that all of that would dissipate. You know, how sometimes when you’re too happy, there’s just a fucking voice inside of you screaming, “It won’t last long”?

That’s exactly what he used to feel. The root of the fear was a mystery to him and he even tried to forget about it, thinking it might be just a pipe dream.

Except, it was not.

And then one day, like a bolt from the blue, Jungkook’s dad was gone.

He still remembers the day very clearly when he saw his dad’s body being carried away on a stretcher, heavy and cold. Meanwhile, he just stood there with fat tears streaming down his cheeks, his mom arms stopping him from running behind his father.

Then, if that was not enough to break him, he lost his mom. Not physically but mentally when her mental state started to deteriorate over the next few years. Before he knew it, his mother totally forgot about his identity as well as his father’s. Apparently, that left a scar far too deep.

What’s it like to forget the ones you love?

Even though Jungkook had made peace with the fact that his mother will never return the same way he’d known her for, a small part of him still hopes. After all, what’s so wrong in hoping?

His feet drag him down the long hallway filled with wooden brown doors until he stops and stands before one. He clears his throat as he watches the woman just lie there and stare into nothing in particular.

When he gains her attention, a smile breaks out from her lips, “There you are. I knew you would come, Jimin.”

Jungkook runs a palm over his chest, a futile effort to soothe the ache.

“It’s Jungkook, mom. Your son”

“My son? How do you know my son?” The vivaciousness long gone from his mom’s voice.

He swallows and gets further inside the room. He doesn’t try to push it because he knows for a fact that even if she recognizes him today, if tomorrow he comes back he’ll be either Jimin or Namjoon or some random man he’s never heard of.

“How are you doing?”

His mom sighs, a pout on her lips as she looks down, “Still the same. I asked the nurse for a cup of tea hours back but she seems to have forgotten about it. That witch.”

He chuckles, sitting himself on the stool. “I’m sure she’s bringing it in for you.”

Her eyes move over to the window and settle on the maple tree outside. Just watching it. Jungkook ponders if she remembers chasing him under the maple tree when he was a child. It’s his favorite memory.

“A kind woman stopped by a few days back. God knows what her name was but she had this.. sad look in her eyes, as if someone had snatched something away from her and she’s broken over it. I wonder if people look at me and feel the same amount of sympathy that I did towards her that day. I’m not a fool, I know I’m sick. I could be dead by tomorrow for all you know,” she releases a small sigh as Jungkook waits for her to continue.

Except she doesn’t and in that moment, Jungkook just…. knows.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Jungkook’s eyes have not left the silver bracelet on his wrist for a while now, brushing it with his fingers lightly as if that would help him rectify his mistakes. He wants to slap himself whenever he remembers the look on your face when those cursed words left him. You looked so broken, so tired.

The woman his mother mentioned is you, it’s so obvious. Something about the way she told him about you made him want to swallow a fistful of iron nails. Fuck even that would hurt less. For a second he saw himself at her place and that made his insides twist in such a way that he didn’t understand.

What if one day he just wakes up and doesn’t remember you? What if it all just disappears? Her memories, your smile, your sweet giggles, your moans, your touch.

The thought itself makes him want to rip something into pieces not to mention rip his own heart into pieces.

Jungkook can hardly walk through the veil of darkness which fills the hall. He holds his phone screen up for light, calling out for you.

“Honey, you home?”

No response. With his heart in his throat he starts moving towards the bedroom. Gripping the doorknob, he twists it as the door clicks open. Before he can start panicking because of the empty room with nothing but his own stuff scattered around, a cough reaches his ears.

His brows crease into a frown, confused. “_____, I’m starting to worry.”

Another cough follows, making his breath pick up its pace. Following the sound, he finds himself standing outside the guest room’s door. Wasting no time he pushes the door open as he watches you on the bed covered in layers of blanket with sweat all over your forehead.

He rushes to you in a quick second, heart beating fast. “Hey, hey baby,” voice coming out as gently as possible, “You okay? Why are you here?”

Your eyes land on his face as you sniff. “This is what happens when you eat your weight in a bucket full of ice cream on a Sunday night.”

Jungkook’s expression flashes with relief, grateful that it’s nothing more than an unfortunate cold.

“You should leave.”

He blinks, “What?”

“You're more contagious to the cold than anyone I know, baby. Go. I’ll be fine”

To be honest, he could give zero fucks about catching a cold right now. He holds your gaze for a long moment before standing up.

A quick look of hurt passes through your eyes, but you recover just as quickly.

“If you think I’m gonna leave you here in this state then you underestimate my love for you, honey. I don’t know if you remember, but you wanted us to talk once I come back and I want you to get better and get talking, alright? God knows how I managed to have survived two weeks without you by my side, but now that I’m here, you’re going nowhere out of my sight.”

“Jungkoo-”

He interrupts, “As for those reports, I don’t give a fuck. I don’t care if we can’t have kids normally as most people do,” he runs his hands through his black locks, messing them up as he continues,

“In every sense of the word, I just want you. I want you right here with me, holding my hand and making me the happiest motherfucker ever. We’ll try something else. We’ll adopt, we’ll go with IVF, we’ll-”

“Jungkook”

“Yeah?”

“Breathe, baby”

So he does as he fills his chest with air, taking a moment to relax. Reaching over, you take his hands in your soft and warm ones, caressing his knuckle tattoo.

“Do I have the permission to be selfish just for one more time?”

He offers you a weak smile, “You were never selfish to begin with, my love.”

Your hands pull him towards you until he’s lying down by your side. He wraps his arms around you, holding you so close you’re almost one.

Jungkook presses a kiss on your clammy forehead followed by one on the tip of your nose, “You okay?”

“I am now” you whisper, letting your head drop weakly forward to pepper kisses across his hoodie clad chest.

“I’m gonna speak now and I want you to listen, okay?”

“Okay.”

Your fingers clutch his hoodie in a small fist as you begin, “I lied about babysitting Coco and I’m sorry about that since I know we promised to never lie to each other, but I had a reason for that. I was at the hospital when you called. I knew you would be at the studio and I didn’t want to put you through that when you’re working,”

You look up at him, eyes full of love and affection, “When I was young, my mom showed me an orange butterfly which I immediately fell in love with. I played with it for hours before I went back inside the house. I let it go, wishing it would visit me again. I had to let that butterfly go, Jungkook. Because I knew I couldn’t keep holding onto it. I was gonna do the same with you that night. I had it all planned out, I was gonna let you know about my infertility and then I was going to ask you for a breakup. Thankfully, I didn’t. Do you know why?”

Resigned, Jungkook shakes his head as a teardrop falls.

“Because some things and some people are worth staying for. You’re worth staying for. I was stupid enough to think that I would survive without you, that I would be able to weather the storm without you by my side.”

You’re sobbing now, sniffing as your fingers wipe Jungkook’s tears away.

He cups your cheek, his fingers brushing featherlight on your skin as the most tantalizing caress. “You don’t have to. I’ll never leave you, baby. You’re it for me. I can’t breathe without you, _____. Do I want a family one day? Of course, Do I want it without you in it? Over my dead body. You’re my present and I very much have the intention of making you my future too. With all due respect, but something as trivial as that report is not gonna stop me from doing that.”

A heavy moment of silence hangs in the air as he just stares at the love of his life, he didn’t even realize when the power came back, illuminating the whole guest room.

You are the first one to say, “I love you.”

“I love you the most.” he declares as his lips brush with yours with immense gentleness and love.

“Jungkook?”

“Yeah honey?”

“What do you think about calling our daughter, Ji woo? If we ever have one?” your voice comes out muffled because of the way you’re snuggled against his chest.

His lips stretch into the biggest grin ever, chest filling with pride because the woman who he loves the most in his life asked to name the girl he’d love the most in his life after a woman who loves him the most in her life. Even if she doesn’t know it.

“I’d love that.”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Few years later

“What-” you gasp as your body goes tense for a quick second before relaxing against Jungkook’s chest. His arms circling around your waist, making you feel cozy and at home.

“You really need to stop scaring me like this.”

“Why? I can’t hug my wife now? I know you secretly like back hugs.”

Wife. The word still holds the same love and power as it did the first time he asked “Will you be my wife and make me the happiest man in the world, honey?”

You let your head fall back against his chest and look up at him, “You know what? I do.”

“I know you like the back of my hand, wifey.” he says, leaning down to drop a light kiss on your forehead.

“I love it when you call me that, but right now you’re distracting me.” Your hands start running over his forearms, caressing. It’s like a habit for you. You need to touch him whenever you can, feel him close to you as much as possible. He’s always so warm and soft, it makes you all fuzzy on the inside.

His mouth nibbles on your ear, making you shudder. “I don’t think so. Besides I barely get to have you for myself these days.”

You sigh and just let yourself relax in his hold. The past few days have been hectic to say the least and nothing can heal you better than being in your husband’s arms. “How was practice, baby?”

Jungkook has been working on a new album resulting in him spending most of his time in the studio. You miss him, of course, it’s only normal, but you’re also beyond proud. He took a momentous break from his work the same year you guys were facing issues and he didn’t so much as leave your side, promising to always stick around. Through thick and thin as he said in the wedding vows.

He ignores your question and sucks on your neck, making you groan.

“Jungkook” His lips find yours and he steals a kiss, hands pushing under your sundress as he caresses the back of your thigh. Goosebumps break out all over your body and you curse at the fact that he still holds so much power over you. Your legs go weak and your clutch onto his shoulder for support.

As he lets your lips go with a loud pop, you open your eyes and look at him.

“What are the chances of me getting lucky tonight?” he asks, hands still under your dress, now grazing your ass.

“It-”

Before you could answer him, the sound of tiny footsteps running towards you both reached you. And there she is, your prettiest five year old letting out the biggest shriek after she sees her daddy all but falling down from enthusiasm.

“Da!” her feet pick up the pace as she runs towards him with arms wide open.

You detangle yourself from your husband’s hold and he takes a step back.

He crouches down and catches your little girl, Ji woo, in his arms. Groaning as she crashes into him. “Ooff”

“Da, I missed you. You’re coming to the picnic with us, right? Mommy says you are.”

You watch him laugh and peck her chubby cheek. “Of course, sunshine. Nice daddies never miss picnics with their daughters, do they?”

As they talk like their goofy selves, you just take a moment and watch. By the grace of all things good, you’ve had the chance to visit almost everywhere in the world, but this right here is the best view. After musing about it, you and Jungkook decided to go with IVF and you’ve not regretted it ever since. Hands down the best decision of your life.

Waking up and seeing your husband with your daughter sprawled on his chest as she lets out tiny little snores, watching her fall in love with the same eyes as you did, going on family dates, going to his concerts wearing the same outfits and whatnot. It’s more than enough for you to thank your lucky stars that you stayed.

“Mommy, daddy says he’ll not steal my strawberry this time.”

You offer her a gentle smile. “Daddy is a little liar, baby”

She lets out the cutest gasp ever, cupping Jungkook’s face with her tiny hands. His face is so big in her hands it’s almost chucklesome.

“Is that right, daddy?”

He playfully narrows his eyes at you as you stick your tongue out. “Mommy’s just jealous because you love daddy more. Now, what do you think of making those bracelets together?”

Ji woo’s face lights up like the fourth of July and she starts squirming like a little butterfly in his arms, flapping her arms. She’s been asking for her own bracelet after seeing the silver one on Jungkook’s wrist for years now. He suggested custom making one and she got so excited one would think he got her a pet dog or something. Although, he’s considering that too. Nothing surprising there.

When it comes to Ji woo, Jungkook is a loser in love. You’ve never seen him looking at another girl the same way he looks at his daughter. Besides you, of course. It’s innocent, pure and all things perfect.

Before they both leave, she gives you a kiss on the cheek, covering her eyes when your husband pecks your lips.

Your eyes find the butterfly tattoo on your wrist, sometimes seeing it in your daughter. Excited, lively and someone who makes you want to wish it never disappears, the only difference?

Jungkook’s not afraid that everyone will let him go and you’re not uneasy about how you will have no reason to not let go.

You’re healed.

He’s healed.

taglist (ilusm guys) : @woodarevil-blog @kookooquette @busanbby-jjk @chaelvrx @kaiparkerwifes @elithenium @vixensph @carriereadsbooks @mageprincess7 @queenbloody @hinatsu @parkinglot-nights @kookiescutie @ggukieskookie @jimineepaboya @cuteipat @dolligguk @bookstoread199 @chokoopie @lovingkoalaface

727 notes · View notes

urfavfrenchgrl · 1 month ago

Text

Muggle Studies

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader ᥫ᭡ words: 2k ᥫ᭡ warnings: 18+ | SMUT | MDNI | public fingerfucking ᥫ᭡ summary: you cheated on your boyfriend with your best friend My first one shot omfg I hope you guys enjoy 🥹 For those who know me on Wattpad or A03, this passage was adapted from one of my fics for Tumblr.

You wandered through the winding corridors of Hogwarts, the familiar sound of your footsteps echoing softly off the stone walls. Your hands were buried deep in the pockets of your house robe, seeking warmth against the cool draft of the castle. Your stomach churned, a physical reminder of the breakfast you had skipped, choosing instead to avoid the Great Hall altogether. You couldn’t risk seeing either Mattheo or Cedric—both of whom you hadn’t spoken to since the Yule Ball. You and Cedric had been dating for two months. He wasn’t someone you were in love with, not really, but he was kind, reliable, and he took good care of you. There was a comfort in the stability he offered, something safe and predictable, even if your heart wasn’t entirely in it. But now, with everything that had happened, facing him felt impossible.

Your heart clenched at the thought of Cedric. Facing him now seemed impossible, especially with the weight of your secret pressing down on you like a boulder. The memory of your night with Mattheo still lingered, a dangerous mix of regret and yearning that sent an unexpected warmth between your legs whenever it crossed your mind. It had been a fleeting moment of weakness, a slip in judgment that you couldn’t afford to admit, even to yourself.

You and Mattheo had been best friends since your second year at Hogwarts, inseparable from the start. He had always been like a big brother to you—protective, loyal, and always by your side.

But something had shifted in recent months. The lines between friendship and something more had started to blur. You found yourself noticing things about him you hadn’t before—the way his dark eyes lingered on yours a moment too long, the sharp curve of his smirk that sent your heart racing. It confused you at first, but the more time you spent together, the more your feelings deepened, until you could no longer deny that you saw him differently.

And then came the ball.

Just as you reached the heavy wooden door of your classroom, the last voice you wanted to hear cut through the air behind you, freezing you in place.

“Hey, Y/N!” Cedric’s voice, warm and full of affection, called out. You closed your eyes briefly, taking a deep breath to steady yourself before turning around with what you hoped was a convincing smile.

Cedric’s face lit up as he strode towards you, his kind eyes crinkling at the corners. He cupped your cheeks between his hands and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, sending a fresh wave of guilt crashing through you. You could barely look him in the eye, knowing what you had done—what you had betrayed.

“Good morning to you too,” you murmured with a soft laugh, stepping back, though the smile never fully reached your eyes.

“I didn’t see you yesterday, or this morning,” Cedric said, his brows knitting together slightly in concern. “Are you avoiding me?”

His tone was gentle, but the question made your stomach twist in knots. What could you say? That you had been running away from your own guilt, from the look in his eyes that always made you feel safe, but now only reminded you of your betrayal?

“What? No! Why would I avoid you?” you forced the words out with a light chuckle, hoping they would come across as casual, though the weight of your actions made you feel anything but.

Stay calm, you thought. You have to keep it together.

“If it’s about the ball… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left like that,” Cedric said softly, his voice filled with regret. He looked down, his expression pained, as if it was his fault for leaving too soon. But you knew the truth. Cedric had waited for you, and when you showed up late, frustrated and embarrassed, he had left. You had been upset too—enough to leave the ball and end up in his best friend’s arms that night.

“It’s nothing, Cedric, really,” you reassured him, though your voice felt hollow. Over his shoulder, your eyes caught a familiar figure leaning against the stone wall further down the hall—Mattheo Riddle, his dark eyes fixed on you with that same dangerous glint.

Your throat tightened, your pulse quickening at the sight of him. You quickly tore your gaze away, focusing back on Cedric.

“I should get to class now,” you said, your voice soft as you brushed a hand over his cheek, forcing yourself to smile. “I’ll see you later?”

“Tonight in my dorm?” Cedric suggested, his smile so pure, so trusting. “The guys will be out at Quidditch practice, so we can watch a movie… just us.”

“Yeah… sounds perfect,” you replied, though the guilt gnawed at your insides like a beast you couldn’t tame. Cedric kissed your cheek and waved goodbye, disappearing down the corridor.

You were in deeper than you thought.

The moment you entered the classroom, you made a beeline for your usual seat at the back of the room, hoping for a moment of peace. You began unpacking your things, your mind racing, but before you could settle in, someone slid into the seat next to you.

You didn’t have to look to know who it was.

“That’s not your seat,” you said flatly, not bothering to glance at Mattheo, who leaned back in his chair with that infuriating smirk on his face.

“It is now,” he replied casually, his voice low and teasing.

You rolled your eyes, biting back a retort. You didn’t have the energy to argue with him today, not when your mind was already a storm of guilt and confusion. But when Ron Weasley walked into the room, sporting a fresh black eye, you turned to Mattheo, your anger rising.

“Tell me you didn’t do that,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, though the accusation hung heavy in the air between you.

Mattheo’s smirk widened. “He had it coming.”

Your jaw clenched, and for a brief moment, you wondered if Mattheo had done it out of jealousy because you and Ron had talked for a long moment during the ball before you rejected his advances. But you pushed the thought away, shaking your head. Ron could be a jerk sometimes, but he didn’t deserve this.

“You really don’t know how to behave, do you?” you muttered under your breath as Professor Rowle began the lesson.

Mattheo chuckled darkly beside you. “Not really.” His hand slid under the desk, finding its way to your bare thigh, his fingers brushing against your skin.

Your breath hitched, your body betraying you as a heat spread through you once more. You clenched your fists, trying to focus on the lesson, but Mattheo’s touch made it impossible. His hand slowly inched higher, his fingers teasing the edge of your underwear.

“Mattheo…” you whispered, your voice trembling, your face flushed with both embarrassment and desire.

“Shh…” he whispered back, his breath warm against your ear as his hand continued its slow, torturous movements.

The sensation sent a shiver of anticipation through you, your heart pounding in your chest as Mattheo’s fingers brushed the fabric of your underwear, teasing you with maddening slowness.

“You’d better stay quiet for me, alright?” Mattheo murmured, his voice a dangerous whisper full of promise.

You squeezed the edge of your desk, your breath coming in shallow gasps as your mind spiraled between guilt, desire, and the impossible situation you had found yourself in.

With a surge of confidence, Mattheo’s hand slipped further under your skirt, his fingers gliding beneath the fabric of your underwear with practiced ease. The moment his fingers found your wetness, your breath hitched, a wave of heat spreading through your body as his touch sent ripples of sensation coursing through you.

A soft, involuntary moan escaped your lips, and you bit down on it immediately, trying to maintain some semblance of control. But it was impossible. The way Mattheo’s fingers moved—slow, deliberate, teasing—ignited something deep within you. His touch was maddeningly light at first, barely grazing your skin, but that only made the ache inside you more unbearable.

Mattheo’s mind wasn’t as calm as his outward expression suggested. Seeing you with Cedric just moments earlier had ignited a fire of jealousy within him. You were still with Cedric—perfect, dependable Cedric—when Mattheo knew that only he could make you feel this way. No one else could push you to the edge like this, and the thought of you being with anyone else—especially Cedric—drove him mad.

His fingers moved with calculated precision, each stroke a reminder that you were his, even if you wouldn’t admit it. You might still be with Cedric, but right now, you were here with Mattheo, your body responding to his touch in ways Cedric could never make it. He was the only one who could drive you to this point, and he knew it.

Without warning, Mattheo slipped two fingers inside you, rough and deliberate, making you gasp. The sudden intrusion sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body, your breath catching in your throat as your legs instinctively clenched around him. His smirk only deepened as he watched you struggle to maintain control, knowing that the raw intensity of his touch was exactly what you craved, even if you wouldn’t say it aloud.

"Such a good girl for me," Mattheo whispered in your ear, his voice laced with arrogance and desire. His fingers moved faster now, more insistent, as if to remind you of who really had control over you.

A shiver ran down your spine at his words, your body arching into his touch. Your breath became ragged, your chest rising and falling quickly as you struggled to hold yourself together. But it was impossible. His fingers stroked you with relentless precision, pushing you closer and closer to the edge, until the tension inside you became too much to bear.

“Mattheo, please…” you whimpered, your voice barely a whisper, desperate for release.

He chuckled softly, clearly enjoying how you fell apart under his touch. His fingers pressed deeper, drawing slow, maddening circles that made your entire body tremble. "Let go, baby," he whispered again, his breath hot against your ear. "Come for me."

Your body responded instinctively, trembling as the coil of pleasure inside you finally snapped. A rush of heat overwhelmed you, your release crashing over you like a wave as your muscles tensed, your thighs clenching around his hand. You tried to stifle the moan that rose in your throat, biting your lip as the pleasure coursed through you.

Mattheo’s smirk grew wider as he watched you fall apart, his fingers still moving, drawing out your pleasure until you were trembling beneath his touch. Finally, he withdrew his hand, slick with your arousal, and brought his fingers to his lips, his eyes locking on yours as he slowly licked them clean.

"I hate you…" you whispered, your voice breathless and weak as you tried to catch your breath.

Mattheo chuckled, wiping his hand on his trousers with casual indifference. "No, you don’t," he murmured arrogantly, his gaze still fixed on you. "But you will."

His heart was still racing with the jealousy and possessiveness that had been gnawing at him since that night at the ball. Seeing you with Cedric had only made it worse. He wanted to remind you, selfishly, that only he could make you feel like this. Cedric could never compete, and Mattheo needed you to know that.

You glared at him, your chest still heaving as you tried to regain control of yourself. You had crossed yet another line, one that you knew you shouldn’t have. And the worst part was, you knew Mattheo had done it on purpose—every touch, every tease, designed to remind you that you belonged to him in ways you could never admit out loud.

Mattheo Riddle was going to be the death of you.

And the worst part? You weren’t even sure you wanted him to stop.

#mattheo riddle #slytherin boys x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo smut #harry potter #slytherin boys #hogwarts #slytherin boys smut #matt riddle #smut

494 notes · View notes

ventique18 · 1 year ago

Text

Lilia: "This voice... Levan?! You, when did you return... No, but those horns are Meleanor's..."

Lilia for a while confuses Malleus for Levan... He only doubted himself because of the horns... Do y'all remember who has a similar build/hair color/skin tone/lip shade as Malleus...

"Those old fools of a senate... How dare they..."

"AND GRANDMOTHER AS WELL! Why have they kept the truth from me all this time?!"

OMG! He didn't know that Lilia hatched him... Lilia tries to calm him down and says that it was him who told them not to say tell. Because if he knew the truth, then he might feel guilty.

At this point Lilia begins to mix up reality and memory. He's questioning why he's calling this person Malleus when Malleus still isn't supposed to know how to walk on two legs. Malleus soothes him, saying that it's alright, Lilia doesn't have to think, and he doesn't have to suffer anymore.

Malleus: "What dream would you like to have? A dream where both father and mother are alive? Or would you prefer a dream where you and your son live peaceful lives?

"I will give you anything and everything you wish for. Now, Lilia, take my..."

Silver: "FATHER---!!!!!"

Lilia is still confused and mixes up things, and Malleus looks at Silver and Sebek exasperatedly, as if they're pests that keep on popping up. That they being awake is bad, and that they should go back to sleep. Silver objects and Sebek tells him that there's no way a man born from so much love should grow up to be villainous and hated by the entire world.

Silver: "And that's why we will definitely defeat you. Lord Malleus... YOUR "BLESSING"!"

Because of that keyword, Lilia finally remembers everything that happened.

Lilia: "Well said. That's my disciples for you."

Lilia: "I must have taken a very long nap. Now you've done it, Malleus!"

Malleus: "Tsk. You've truly woken up, Lilia! But you need not worry. I will tuck you back to bed very soon."

Lilia: "Ha! Did you just say you will tuck me to bed? You've grown cocky, haven't you? Then do your worst!"

Lilia: "Everyone, after me!"

LILIA: "IT'S TIME TO RUN--!!"

OMFG LOL LILIA???? Malleus laughs "Are we playing tag? It's been far too long since we've played like this."

"We have all the time in the world. Why don't we have a bit of fun, Lilia!" *CUE UNHINGED FUCKING LAUGHTER HOLY SHIT THAT WAS CREEPY AS HELL

#EVERY WORD MALLEUS SAYS IS SO FUCKING CREEPY OMFG #I LOVE HIM AND ME SAYING HE'S CREEPY IS A TESTAMENT TO HOW GOOD KAZUKI KATO PORTRAYED HIS UNHINGED FUCKING BRAIN HOLY SHIT #IT'S LIKE HE'S CREEPING BEHIND YOU AND YOU DON'T FUCKING KNOW WHAT HE WANTS TO DO TO YOU #HOLY SHIT #twisted wonderland #ventique rambles #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #twst book 7 spoilers

2K notes · View notes

hurlingdown · 6 months ago

Note

ur zoro fic was so good omfg ftm bratty ace x ftm dom reader?? I need him So bad

MAKE ME FEEL GOOD — TOP! FTM! READER x ACE

synopsis. ace thinks that it doesn't feel good for you when the two of you have sex. you prove him wrong. the sex is fucking brilliant, actually. wc. 2.1k

tags: reader turns ftm! bratty! ace into a pillow princess, dom! reader, breeding kink, wet & messy, riding, double ended strap-on, it vibrates goddammit, strap referred to as cock sometimes, no female anatomy terms for reader, bit of hurt/comfort, imaginary creampie, holy shit they're fr about making babies, this is filthy and i love it

Ace squirmed on your thick dildo, soaked cunt pulsing around it as he struggled to balance on your lap. At the additional weight, the protruding toy on the other end of the strap-on slipped deeper into you, making you shiver.

“Y-you said you’d finally let me top, you fucker!” he gasped, eyes teary with contempt. “For once!”

“To be fair, you are on top,” you muttered absent-mindedly, distracted by the way his slick dripped down the remaining inches of your cock that he couldn’t take in one go. His nails dug into your shoulders as he let out a loud whine, demanding your attention.

“Not like this!” Ace moaned, and despite his protests, his hips had started to roll against the toy, trying to take more of it inside him. “Want to—make you feel good too, it’s not always about me—”

“I feel good too. And seeing you feel good makes me feel good,” you told him truthfully, planting your hands on his waist as you guided him down your cock, thumbs pressing gentle circles into his skin to soothe him. “Besides, I wanted to try using this. The vendor said it vibrated.”

His eyes widened with a mixture of excitement and something more. “This thing vibrates?”

“Yeah—there’s the remote. Hngh, fuck, don’t move so suddenly.” Ace jerked in your lap to grab the remote in your hands, making the small toy inside you shift. Feeling emboldened by your reaction, he harshly rocked his hips downwards with a keen, fully seated on your lap now.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trembling.

You frowned. “Shit, do you need more lube? Did I stretch you out enough? Does it hurt?” you asked worriedly as he shook his head, feeling overwhelmed by the sensation of a fat cock pushing past his entrance and rearranging his insides.

“No. No, just start moving.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! I’m getting bored, so move!”

You held in a scoff at his poor attempt to rile you up. How typical of him.

“You’re sitting on top of me, firecracker. How d’you want me to move?”

Ace opened his mouth to argue, but then promptly froze, flushing as he realised his position. He was still unused to the one being on top—usually it was him with his face pressed down into the sheets and ass up to the heavens, you pounding so sweetly into his pussy from behind as he cried out your name.

Tiny crimson flames erupted from his skin and he scowled, embarrassed. “I knew that.”

“Yeah. Of course.” You looked at him, his thighs trembling as his cunt clenched around the dildo, sitting there like a whiny brat that just got told off. “Darling,” you murmured, taking his hands into your own, to which he swatted away. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“I want to!”

Ace scowled, raising his head to look at you, and you saw the tremble of the wet sheen in his dark eyes.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” he said, confidently, and you stifled a smile.

“Sure.” If you can.

You gave his hips an encouraging squeeze as he began to lift himself. His thighs were already spasming with the effort, and he let out a soft gasp, head falling forward to knock against your shoulder—unintentionally giving himself the best angle possible.

He held in his breath as more and more of the toy was exposed, and he clenched around it experimentally, watching as globs of lube mixed with his slick were pushed out with a squelch. He was stretched so, so impossibly wide around you, and it was obscene.

“Ace. Relax. Just a little more.”

“I—fucking know, hah, dammit! You’re not the one—taking this fat cock,” he whimpered, shivering and gasping softly as the entire length of the dildo was revealed, the plump tip rubbing against his folds. “Gonna—gonna move now. So brace yourself.”

Without waiting for your response, he suddenly relaxed his taut thighs, letting gravity drop him on your cock, slamming himself down all the way in one go—and he threw his head back, letting out a garbled moan as his eyes crossed. It was so fucking deep inside him, even deeper than before, and you bit your lip to stop yourself from making any noise, blessed by the erotic sight on your lap and the fact that the toy inside you was pressing at a new angle that had you clenching around it.

“So good, babe,” you mumbled. “You’re doing so great.”

Ace didn’t respond, and your eyes trained onto his exposed Adam's apple as it bobbed.

“Ace?”

The fingers gripping your shoulders trembled with effort to hold himself still as Ace took in a shaky breath through his teeth. As you saw the glistening of tears down the side of his cheeks, you knew something was wrong.

“Shit, you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” he managed weakly.

“You sure you’re alright? We can stop if you want—”

“I’m—fine. Stop asking to stop—f-fuck, do you not want me anymore?” he whimpered, wet eyes finally gazing at you with hurt and scorn as tears started to roll down his face. “Is that it? Did you get tired of me ‘cause you don’t feel good when we fuck?”

So that was why he was so insistent on topping you.

“No,” you sighed, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “It’s nothing like that, love. I was just worried about hurting you.”

“Oh.” He visibly flushed from the kiss, trying to bite down a smile at the relief that flooded him.

“And again. Your ‘good’ is my good. So stop worrying and feel good for me.”

“But you won’t feel as good as I—”

You kissed him, muffling any other protests. “I swear on my life, I do.”

“Fine,” Ace huffed. “But you could never hurt me—it’d be my choice if that ever happened.” He turned his head to the side with a blush, averting your heated gaze. You were smirking, ideas rushing through your mind that you would indulge in the next time the two of you had sex: spanking, overstimulation, edging, bondage— “You’re an infuriating sap and I absolutely despise you.”

“Yeah? You seem to love my cock, though.”

Hot flames flickered up over his skin as his eyes snapped back to you in surprise. They hesitantly travelled down, and further down—to his drenched pussy impaled on the huge dildo, his stomach paunchy with the sheer size of it taking up all the space. He let out a breathy whine, as though just realising that your dick was still shoved deep inside him.

He had sworn he could do it, but the truth is—he couldn’t. Not now—not like this.

“Want me to take control?”

“Fuck, yes, please,” Ace whispered, words burning with need.

Satisfied by the enthusiastic consent, you slowly lowered him onto the mattress, whispering encouragement and sweet nothings to get him to relax. He rubbed at his eyes, trying his best to wipe away his tears.

You picked up the vibrator remote that he had dropped somewhere, feeling his eager eyes dig into you. Meeting his gaze with a heated one of your own, you set it to a low level, shakily inhaling. As you began to grind your hips against him, he whimpered at the sensation, slick gushing out with each thrust of the dildo, wetting the bed.

And it was so good for you, too, the toy rubbing and vibrating intensely inside your hole, sending the most delicious quivers down the back of your spine. This was heaven—you couldn’t even fathom why he would think otherwise.

“More,” he demanded with a whiny tone.

“How much more?”

“Go a level higher—I can take it.”

You decided to take pity on him, as he had got so overwhelmed and cried earlier. Ace never cried. Not in a scenario like this, with bad thoughts crowding his brain instead of how good you were making him feel, thinking of something so absurd—that you didn’t want him anymore.

Adjusting the level of the vibration to his wishes, you groaned as pleasure surged through your abdomen. You took a moment to dwell in it, imagining the dildo was your own cock, and his pussy was milking you with every rut into tight heat, making him feel so good he’d grip you with his cunt—refusing to let you leave until you bred him full of your seed.

You almost came from that thought alone. What a sight it would be, seeing him round with your children, the product of your love and sin.

“What—what are you thinkin’ about?” Ace slurred, drunk on pleasure as he let out breathy moans and whines. “Focus on—me!”

“My bad,” you chuckled, leaning down to kiss him as an apology, while your hips sped up to fuck him harder and faster. “You f-feel so good, baby.”

His cheeks went pink, almost shy, a godsent complement to the brown stars that scattered across his attractive face. He dug his face into the sheets to hide his expression from you, panting heavily as he’s bodily dragged onto your cock, only to have it plunge out and ram into him again. “I, ha—AH!” he wailed at a particularly hard thrust, “I do?”

“Yeah—you’re so fucking tight, I wanna come inside you real bad.”

“Oh shit,” Ace breathed, eyes growing wide and almost feral. Dirty talk was common between the two of you during sex, but this was new territory. “Fuck, yeah, do it, please—” he begged, eyes tearing up again and shuddering at the prospect of you impregnating him, “I wanna—wanna have your, hnngh, babies!”

“How—how many?”

“We’ll think about that, ah, later—”

“Daughter or son?”

“Not now! Wait, a son would be nice, he’d be handsome like you...”

“I want a daughter, though.”

“Then I’ll give you both!” he swore loudly, pussy tightening around your dildo, a sign that he was close. “Babe, fuck, I think I’m gonna—gonna come—!”

“Yeah? Come for me. You’re so—good, so fucking good.” You turned the remote to the maximum level, feeling the vigorous vibrations bleed into the tender parts of your hole and moaning shamelessly, though not allowing the pleasure to stop you from picking up pace, hitting a certain spot within Ace that made his toes curl, making sure that he felt as good as you did.

You needn't have worried, though—Ace was shaking, crying, and the mess between his legs was filthy and mouth-watering, milk-white slick leaking out of his pussy in copious amounts, showing just how damn good you made him feel.

“Fuck your—kids into me, please—” he begged, spreading his legs wider to accommodate your messy thrusts. “Want them so bad!”

You could feel yourself tethering on the verge of wanting to come so badly you would die and edging yourself, eyes rolling back as you thrusted blindly into his sopping hole, one thumb pressed onto his clit to rub, hard—and Ace came all over your cock with a throaty scream of your name, clenching so tightly around your dildo that you could almost feel it—making the toy inside you gouge into that same fucking spot, and you cry out, orgasming.

“F-fuuuck,” you panted, pulling out and collapsing on top of Ace, the action making ungodly amounts of slick and come leak out from his cunt, completely drenching his thighs.

He was still coming down from the life-shattering climax he just experienced, body trembling as his leg muscles spasmed and jumped involuntarily. A hand slowly carded through your hair, pressing your cheek against his muscular chest, letting you feel his heart run a marathon for you.

You laid there for several minutes, basking in the afterglow, before he finally spoke up, breaking the silence. “About… the children,” Ace muttered, frowning. He had paused, as though he wanted to say our children and not the children. “It isn’t biologically possible, you dolt. Both of us—aren’t. That.”

“We could find a donor.”

“Don’t want it if it’s not yours. And—I want them to look like you, too.”

You stomped down the blush that crept onto your cheeks, smiling like a fool. “Then we’ll just have to find a devil fruit that can help us.”

“Oh.” He smiled back, finally, before puckering up his lips to ask for a kiss, to which you happily obliged. Wrapping your arms around his torso, you pressed your pounding heart to his own, letting him know exactly how good he had been making you feel, all along. masterlist!

969 notes · View notes

citysuk · 5 months ago

Text

guilt and shame | remus lupin

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

summary: you confessed your love for remus, but he rejects you because he doesn't think he's good enough. james has to talk him out of it.

words: 2,5k

notes: omfg !!! this is my first fic ever and I'm super excited to share it, english isn't my first language so please bare with me. if you like this history you can support sharing it. i hope you enjoy it !!

warnings: angst !!!!!!! so much angsty, insecure and overthinker boy remus, james being a little noisy and trying to get some sense on him but being a little ass. no use y/n but no oc neither. no proofread.

part 2 | innocence of love

Remus sits down at the table. He's almost alone, being so early that all the students are still in bed, he barely pays any attention to the few people around him as he pours himself a cup of strong black coffee. He takes a big gulp, relishing in the bitter taste, hoping it will jolt his system awake. As he sipped his coffee, Remus can't help but scan the Great Hall, searching for a familiar face. But you are nowhere to be seen, and the sight makes his chest ache. He forces himself to look away, trying to focus on his breakfast, but his mind keeps drifting back to you.

James joins him, looking as chipper as ever. He plops down next to Remus, immediately noticing his friend's exhausted state. "Morning, mate," he greets cheerfully. "Rough night, Remus? You look like a Lethifold sucked out your soul."

Remus barely suppresses an irritated sigh at James's overly cheerful greeting. He turns to look at him, his expression flat. "Yeah, something like that," he mutters, before taking another gulp of coffee. "Didn't sleep, if you must know."

James's smile falters a little at the sight of Remus's grumpy demeanor. He eyes the dark bags under his eyes and the lines of fatigue on his face. He leans in a bit, his voice low. "Mate, what's up? For real. You look awful."

Remus resists the urge to roll his eyes at James's prodding. He sighs wearily, setting down his coffee cup. "I couldn't sleep, alright?" he admits grudgingly. "I was...I was thinking about something. Someone."

James arches an eyebrow, intrigued. "Someone, huh? Care to give the name? Or are you going to leave me in suspense?"

Remus hesitates, torn between sharing his thoughts and keeping them to himself. He lets out a sigh, his resolve crumbling under James's persistent gaze. He says your name quietly, it leaving a bitter-sweet taste in his mouth.

James's eyes widen at the mention of your name, surprise mixed with curiosity on his face. Then a sly smile forms on his lips. "So...what kind of thoughts were you having about her that kept you up all night?"

Remus averts his gaze, feeling a blush creep up his cheeks. He picks at his food, not really eating. "It's... complicated," he mutters, avoiding eye contact. "We... We talked a few days ago. There were some things... some things confessed that have left me feeling... conflicted. Confused."

James nods, sobering instantly at the seriousness of Remus's tone. He frowns, concern etching his features. "Confesses, eh?" he echoes, a hint of confusion in his voice. "Wait, what do you mean? What did she confess?"

Remus's fingers dig into the table, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. He looks up at his friends, his eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and vulnerability. "It's..." he starts, then swallows hard. "She... she told me that she likes me. More than as a friend."

James's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and for a moment, it looks like he's at a loss for words. He glances at Sirius, who has a similar look of surprise on his face. "She.... she told you she likes you? Like... romantically?"

Remus nods, the action almost a wince. He looks miserable, the guilt of his internal struggle clearly visible on his face. "Yes," he says quietly. "Romantically. And... And I didn't respond well."

James's surprise melts into confusion, and then annoyance. "How do you mean, you 'didn't respond well'?" he asks, his tone taking on a hint of accusation. "What, did you reject her or something?"

Remus flinches at James's sharp tone, feeling the weight of the situation even more acutely. He takes another deep breath, his eyes avoiding anyone's gaze. "I… I did reject her, in a way," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "I... I told her it's not a good idea. That we're better off as friends."

James stares at him in disbelief, shaking his head incredulously. "What in the name of Merlin's beard, Remus?" he exclaims, his voice raising in volume. "Are you mental? She likes you. You like her. So why the hell would you reject her?"

Remus glares back at James, his own frustration and guilt bubbling to the surface. He grips the edge of the table. "Because it's not that easy, James!" he retorts, trying to keep his voice down. "There is...there are so many factors at play here that I can't just... just act on my feelings without considering them!"

James throws his hands up, his patience clearly wearing thin. "What bloody factors, Remus? I don't understand what your issue is here. She likes you, you like her, end of story. What else is there to consider?"

Remus lets out a frustrated huff, his hands clenching into fists. The anger in his voice is evident, but he's trying to be quiet since they're in a public space. "You don't get it, James! It's... It's not that simple! There's... there's my condition. I'm a bloody werewolf! Do you know what that means for her!? There are things you and Peter and Sirius could never understand!"

James scoffs, his eyes narrow. His jaw set. "So what, you think she's just going to run screaming if she knew the truth?" he shoots back. "You think she'd be incapable of handling the fact that you're a werewolf? You think she'd think less of you, just because you turn furry every month?"

Remus is shaking now, his frustration and pain obvious in his every word. "Yes, James! Yes, that's exactly what I think! How could anyone, especially someone like her, accept that? Accept all the danger and the... and the stigma that comes with it? I can't put her through that! I won't!"

James is clearly struggling to maintain his cool, his usually cheerful face twisted in anger and disbelief. "You really think so little of her, don't you?" he accuses. "You think she's so shallow, so narrow-minded, that she'd just walk away, the moment she finds out the truth? Or maybe, just maybe, do you actually have so little confidence in yourself that you think no one could possibly love and accept you in spite of your condition?"

Remus flinches at James's sharp words, the accusations hitting a little too close to home. He looks away, shame and anger battling for dominance on his face. "It's not about me, James!" he retorts, his voice cracking. "It's about her! I can't... I can't put her in danger. I can't risk hurting her. It's not worth the risk!"

James huffs out a scoff, slamming his palms against the table, his eyes ablaze. "You're making excuses, Remus. You're terrified. You're letting your fear control you, your guilt consume you, and it's making you blind to the fact that maybe, just maybe, she's strong enough, kind enough, brave enough, to accept you, flaws and all!"

Remus stands abruptly, his own anger and frustration are barely contained now, his eyes burning with a mixture of shame and defiance. "You don't get to lecture me on this, James!" he nearly bellows, attracting the attention of some nearby students. "You have no idea what it's like to live my life, to face the dangers I face! To bear the guilt, the shame, the pain! You can't possibly understand!"

James doesn't back down, his own emotions running just as high. He points a finger at Remus, his voice as firm as his stance. "Maybe I don't understand the specifics of your situation," he says, his gaze never faltering. "But I understand fear, Remus. I understand guilt. I understand pain. Those are universal. You don't get a bloody monopoly on them just because you're a werewolf."

Remus lets out a derisive snort, his jaw clenched. He's trying to push down the wave of emotions threatening to burst forth. "Oh really? You understand guilt, yeah? You understand guilt like mine? The guilt of knowing that you could hurt, could kill, someone you care about? The guilt of knowing that you're a ticking time bomb, waiting to explode and destroy everything around you? That kind of guilt?"

James doesn't have a ready answer for that. He looks like Remus's words have struck a chord. "Maybe I don't," he admits, his voice slightly hoarse. "But I do know what it's like to push people away because I think they're better off without me. I do know what it is to self-sabotage because I don't think I deserve love and happiness. And you're doing the same damn thing."

Remus falters for a moment, the raw honesty in James's words taking the edge off his own anger. He knows what his friend is saying hits a little too close to home. But he shakes it off, determination hardening his features. "I... I'm doing it to protect her, James! Can't you see that? It's for her own good!"

James shakes his head, his eyes hard yet filled with a pleading look. "You're protecting her from what, Remus? From a relationship? From happiness? You're making that decision for her, depriving her of a choice. Don't you think that's a bit hypocritical, considering how much you value your own autonomy?"

Remus feels a pang of guilt at James's words. The truth in them is undeniable, and he struggles to find a comeback, a defense against his friend's well-aimed arguments. "I... I'm just trying to do what's right..." he mutters weakly, his voice lacking conviction.

James huffs out a sigh, his anger now tempered by a hint of resignation. He steps towards Remus, his voice going softer. "You know what's right, Remus? What's right is that you stop making decisions for her and let her decide what she wants for herself. She confessed to you. She clearly wants a relationship. Stop pushing her away because you think you know what's best for her. That's not your call to make."

Remus is silent, the weight of James's words slowly sinking in. He knows his friend is right. He's not being fair to her, no matter how just he thinks his reasons are. But the fear, the guilt, the shame, they all hold him back. "I... I don't know if I can, James," he finally admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know if I can let her in that close. I'm scared, okay? I'm terrified of what could happen."

*James's face softens further, a hint of understanding in his eyes.*

"I get it, mate," he says, his voice gentle. "I really do. But you've got to let go of that fear. She's not a fragile little thing, in case you haven't noticed. She's strong, she's kind, and she clearly cares about you. Give her a chance, Remus. Let her decide if she's okay with the risk. Let her decide if she wants the challenge."

Remus takes a deep breath, his heart hammering in his chest. He struggles with the internal war within him, the fears and hopes battling it out. "It's not just her," he says quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "It's me, too. I... I don't know if I can trust myself. If I can trust the wolf. I'm terrified of what could happen when the full moon comes."

James reaches out, resting a hand on Remus's shoulder, his touch an anchor in the chaos. "But you can trust yourself," he insists, his voice filled with conviction. "You've managed this for years, Remus. You've controlled the wolf. Yes, it's a beast, but you have a leash on it, you can control it. And you won't be alone. We'll all be there for you, just like we always have been."

Remus stares at James, the words striking a chord in him. He looks at his friends, at Sirius and Peter who silently watched the two of them. He realizes that they are all willing to stand by his side, regardless of his condition. The realization brings a lump to his throat. "You... You'd still be willing to stand by me? Even if it puts you at risk? Even if it puts her at risk?"

James smiles, a reassuring, confident smile. He squeezes Remus's shoulder. "Of course, we would, mate. We're Marauders, remember? We're brothers. We stick together, through thick and thin. And if that means dealing with a furry little problem once a month, then we'll figure it out. We always do."

Remus can't help but let out a wry, humorless chuckle, the weight of his fears and doubts lifting a little, but still present. "Furry little problem, eh? You make it sound like we're dealing with a misbehaving Kneazle rather than a bloodthirsty monster."

James grins, his usual mischief twinkling in his eyes. "Mate, have I ever failed to turn a problem into a joke? Besides, I doubt that wolf of yours could top our prank-making abilities. We could write a manual: 'Wolf Handling for Dummies' - by the Marauders."

Remus lets out a snort, despite himself, the image of a guidebook with that title making him crack a small smile. "Yeah, right. I'm sure it'd be a bestseller. I can picture it now: 'Five Tips to Keep the Wolf from Your Door.' I'm sure Pomfrey would purchase a dozen copies."

James chuckles, a sly grin on his face. "Nah, Pomfrey already has a signed copy. She keeps it under her pillow for light reading before bed." Sirius and even Peter can't help but laugh at James's quip, the tension in the air slowly easing off.

Remus even manages a dry chuckle. Despite himself, he feels some of the weight of his worries lifting a little. Looking at his friends, standing there, teasing him with lighthearted jibes and encouraging grins, he realizes how lucky he is to have them by his side, no matter what.

"You lot will be the death of me," he mutters with a shake of his head, the corners of his lips tugging upwards.

James grins wider, giving Remus a playful punch on the arm. "Death by mischief, mate. There are worse ways to go, I reckon."

Sirius walks over, a mischievous smirk on his face. "Yeah, and we'll make sure your tombstone says something suitably epic. 'Here lies Moony. Died of a severe case of hilarity.'"

Remus rolls his eyes, the last of his resistance crumbling away in the face of his friends' unfaltering loyalty and humor. "Great, just what I always wanted. A tombstone that turns my death into a punchline. You lot are a nightmare, you know that?"

Peter grins, finally joining in the banter. "Oh, come on, Moony. You know you love the attention." James throws an arm around Remus, pulling him into a half-hug, half-headlock. "Face it, mate. We're the best thing to happen to your dreary life."

Remus tries (and fails) to look annoyed, a small smile betraying him. He half-heartedly attempts to shake James off, but the effort is half-hearted at best.

"You lot are a bunch of lunatics, that's what you are. And for some reason, I wouldn't have it any other way."

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #marauders x reader #marauders #marauders era #james potter x reader #james potter #sirius black x reader #harry potter #harry potter x reader #remus lupin angst #remus lupin fluff

486 notes · View notes