#safe to say i didn’t like this book

[poopyjacket]

finished the book i was reading and now im pissed bc it was SO BAD OMG IM NEVER TAKING RECS FROM THIS FRIEND EVER AGAIN!!!! EPILOGUES RUIN BOOKS!!! STOP WRITING THEM PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD I WANT TO FORGET ABOUT THIS BOOK

[culperscomet]

my theatre professor knows about turn. had to act nonchalant. FAILED.

[xplicitviewz]

“Who’s calling?” Your husband, Nanami, huffs from above you, his hips snapping into you. Your teary eyes glance at your phone while you let out small whimpers. “I-it’s our son.” You breathe out, your thighs tremble beneath his hands holding them down beside you.

Nanami groans and stuffs his dick fully into you, a whine escaping your lips as he picks up the phone. Between his work schedule and your 4 kids, there isn’t time for you and your husband to partake in a your shared activities other than the few times you guys got creative.

There was this one time you guys had your oldest watch the kids while you guys went to the pharmacy to pick up some medicine, which ended in a quickie in the dark parking lot before heading home.

Or the other time you guys had a pool day and you went inside to start getting the snacks ready. Nanami followed shortly after to have himself his own quick snack. Both of your days are pretty busy, but Nanami never fails to make some time for you and your pussy. You can admit sex hasn’t really been a priority, until tonight. Upon realizing all the kids would be gone, you immediately called Nanami to be sure he brings his ass home when he is off and not do any overtime- yes you used your mom voice too. Nanami agreed not wanting to be scolded.

When he did get home, he noticed a few things, there was any tv on, or music blasting from your two oldest rooms. There weren’t toys scattered in the living room or the dining room table from your two youngest, no yelling or screaming from all of them in general, it was just quiet. He smelt food in the air, he usually does every night he comes home but it’d be already eaten, or everyone will be eating at the dinner table (he insists not to wait for him because he often stays late) but since he left early from work, it isn’t ready just yet. He quickly rushes up the stairs, starting to feel the panic seep in just a bit, all the kids rooms are empty.

He opens his shared bedroom to see you just laying on your stomach, in the silky robe he got you, reading a book. He calms down because if you were okay, surely, the kids were too. His eyes gaze down your figure, your feet are in the air crossed, while you read. The robe sits at your upper thigh, and since it’s so thin, your ass pops out in the most desirable way possible. “Honey?” He eyes you suspiciously, taking a breath as he starts to settle down, “Where are the kids.”

You heard the front door shut, squeezing your thighs together, feeling the arousal hit you even more. The book you have been reading had been in your mind, and hearing your husband come home really made you ready to take him, full. You had dinner cooking in the oven, almost ready to serve for just Nanami and you. Your oldest son is at a movie with his friends and they are going to go eat after. Your second oldest daughter is spending the night with her best friend, and your two youngest are sleeping over with their grandparents. To say you were practically rushing your oldest son to leave already, since he was the last one to go, was an understatement.

“They are busy and safe.” You closed the book and turn your body towards him, your eyes hungry before you looked at him, but damn near starving when you did. That damn suit and tie. You explained where they all were as you sat up in the bed, impulsively pushing your chest out as you leaned back on your arms. Nanami didn’t ignore the lustful look in your eye, the way your nipples perked against the thin fabric, only assuming you had nothing on underneath. He quickly put a few things together, why you called him to not do overtime. He knew what his wife wanted, at least he thought so.

When your sweet loving husband started off kissing your neck, waiting to use the few hours to just worship your body, you, your hands cupped his chin and looked him dead in the eye, “Honey, I love you so much and I know that you do but tonight-right now I need you to fuck me like you don’t. I want y-“ His eyes darkens more at your plea, how desperate you were truly. How can he ever say no to his gorgeous wife. He cuts you off with a kiss before he started fucking you every way loose. Yes exactly what I said. But of course no matter what time it is, you guys are parents after all….

“What?” Nanami answers the call, still buried deep inside you, grinding against you as his thumb circles your clit.

“..Oh Hey dad, where’s mo-“

“She’s busy, are you okay, why are you blowing up her phone?” Nanami cuts your son off, his eyes focused on you squirming around, biting your lip to keep any lewd sounds hushed while he was on the phone with your son. He speeds up his movements on your clit, softly sucking in a breath when you clench tightly around his dick.

“I wanna buy some snacks and get some food after the movie, mom said she’ll send me m-“

“How much?” Nanami asked wanting him to get to the point so he can get back to his wife. He slowly pulling out before pushing himself back in. Your hand quickly covers your mouth as you shut your eyes. Your legs were shaking crazy. Your husband wasn’t one to always be rough in bed, but the times he is, you would feel it for days, in the best way possible. (He has that dog in him😞) Nanami definitely isn’t holding back, not when it’s been this long you guys were kid free for a few hours and together at that. Nanami was making up for lost time, fingering you until you couldn’t talk properly, eating your pussy like it personally offended him, fucking you left, right, up, down, diagonal, all up until your phone kept blowing up.

“Like about $40.”

“Okay, give me a moment.” Nanami grunts, as he bottoms out again, the way you squeezed his dick nearly knocked him out cold. He feels his dick throb inside you and pulls the phone away from his ear, breathing heavy.

“Thanks d-“

Nanami hangs up the phone and tosses it beside you before leaning in closer to you, peeling your hand away from your mouth and pulling it above your head. “Tell me something honey.” He hums kissing your swollen lips.

You whimper as he fucks you again, slow but rough this time, ”y-yes?” You gasp as he hits your cervix.

“When the kids ask for money, do you send it to them from my account?” He looks into your eyes, sweat dripping down his head watching your reaction to his question really his dick.

You’re screwed. Both literally and physically.

“Not alwa- o-ooh shit.” You moan, his hips moving faster than light. Nanami absolutely hates when you use your own money, hell, even when you were working. When you guys first started dating he already knew you were going to be his wife. Nanami would always say you didn’t need to work but you didn’t want him to be the sole provider. Eventually, you guys moved in together and you were still working. Though, he convinced you to work less hours and took you out on a date when you agreed. It wasn’t until you got pregnant with your first baby, did his wish come true. Shit, he was more excited when you both went down to your job to quit than he was to see the 2 pink lines.

“All the hours I work, being kept away from our family, my perfect wife -ngghh- my perfect wife’s pussy. And you still insist on usi-fuck- using your own money when you have access to my money- no our money, shit your money.” He moans grabbing your other hand and pulling it above your head with your other.

“Y-you pay for e-ever-“

“I’m supposed to baby. I want to.” He interrupts you, lifting your legs to his shoulders, and grabbing your phone with his free hand and sending your son $100 from his account. “Why must you make things complicated, love. I am the man, it’s my job to take care of you, our family. Let *thrust* me. Use my money for the kids, the house, the cars, whatever it is, I have enough, more than.” He kisses your lips softly, opposite to his thrusts. “Use your money I give you for you, whatever you want for you- shit for you. Everything I do is for you, everything I make, it’s yours, ours on paper, but it’s all yours. All for you.” He grunts into your ear, as if he’s teaching a lesson. Technically, he is.

“Don’t let me find out you aren’t using my money first again, okay hun?” He hums at you, a moaning teary mess.

“Now where were we?” He smiles before pulling out and flipping you on your stomach, lifting your ass up and spanking it. “Oh, right.” He chuckles as he spreads your cheeks apart, seeing your drooling sensitive pussy, clenching on air.

*edited but not proofread*

More:

Pussywhipped!Choso | part 2

Married!Eren x Maid!Reader

Ex-husband!Eren

[sleepdeprivedfrfr]

obsessedbf!toji who loves when it’s cold outside because he knows you won’t try and push him away for being too clingy because he’s so so so sooo warm.

obsessedbf!toji who loves when you curl up to him or wrap yourself around him at night in the middle of your sleep, he thinks it’s so adorable.

obsessedbf!toji who doesn’t go to bed until you do, even if it means he’ll wake up grumpy the next morning for work.

obsessedbf!toji who complains to you one night about your sleeping schedule, “Why the fuck are you still up?”

“I’m watching asmr.”

“Turn that shit off and c’mere.”

“Shh this is a good part.”

He snatched your phone out of your hands and turned it off, “Toji what the fu-”

“Pay attention to me ma, not the fucking phone.” He whispered in a gruff sleepy voice as he pulled you to his chest and engulfing you completely. You huffed into his chest. "Stop acting like you don't love this," Toji grumbled lowly, you could hear the smirk in his words.

"Your tits are suffocating me Toji. No complaints though."

"Fucking freak."

He couldn't help but smile though after hearing your sweet little giggles.

obsessedbf!toji who picks up extra missions just so that he can spoil you, he literally refuses to let you work and truly believes that he should be the sole provider while you don't lift a finger. Also having you care for him when he comes home exhausted is a plus :3

obsessedbf!toji who lets you do skincare on him when he comes back home, he claims he hates it but he loves how relaxing it is and how much attention you put on him while doing it.

obsessedbf!toji who constantly teases you for watching asmr but slowly starts getting into it once you do it to him.

You were propped up against the pillows on the bed, while Toji walked out of the bathroom. He was moody from being at work all day, only to come home to you already showered, leaving him to have to shower alone. "C'mere baby," you patted your lap signaling for your big grumpy boyfriend to lay in it.

He let out a soft grunt and quickly placed himself into your embrace, his head on your lower stomach and hands resting on your hips while his body between your legs. You began tracing patterns up and down his back with your nails, and up and down his large biceps.

"Fuck that feels good ma." he whispered, causing you to let out a soft giggle.

"You still mad at me you big baby?" Your hands moved up to his scalp.

"Tch, whatever. Jus' keep doin’ what yer doin'." Was all he said while his thumbs lightly brushed back and fourth over your hips. His breathing began to slow and he let out soft snores.

obsessedbf!toji who surprising plans really romantic dates for you two, but as soon as you walk out of the bedroom all dressed up his hands are all over you, making you guys late to whatever reservation he booked.

"Babe we're gonna be late."

"Fuck you look so good mama, I can't help it." He says between kisses. Safe to say y'all were definitely going to be late again, that is if you even left the house.

another toji drabble/oneshot bc y'all loved the last one sm, might do an nsfw ver soon so yuh. Also thank you guys so much for 500 followers, I know im behind on a lot of stories rn so js bear with me pls 😭

also I’m so tired of seeing people canon toji as a bad husband/bf bc like y r we acting like he didn’t take his wife’s name?!? Like sure he may be broke in the show but that’s js bc his ass was gambling all his money away, anyways hope u enjoyed ;3

Likes, comments, and rebloggs appreciated!!

divider creds: @cafekitsune

[444venicebitch444]

Something something TF 141 gets a new secretary because their old one decided to finally retire, and you show up.

A sweet little thing, no military experience, all shy smiles and nervous chuckles, punctual and neat.

You take care of their paperwork, their mail, schedule their meeting, bring them coffee, and most importantly it’s not half bad to have a good set of legs and a pretty face to look at.

Price was a right gentleman, a nicer boss than you could’ve ever expected from a military man, and Soap and Gaz really had your confidence going whenever they made their flirtatious quips (which was everyday, really).

Ghost, though? Ghost was exactly what you’d expected after hearing the stories: a stoic, intimidating man who spoke in grunts and monosyllables, and who was, in your opinion, quite rude.

Did the man have no manners? Had his mother not taught him to say ‘thank you’?

You tried making an extra effort with him, your need to be liked overpowering your annoyance towards the lieutenant, because you intended to keep this job; the pay was great, it was a short drive from your apartment and you weren’t going to let a guy who wore a bloody skull balaclava everyday ruin this for you.

So you smiled more, made your good mornings and good afternoons sweeter, same as the tea you’d leave on his desk everyday at 4 pm sharp, and the little squiggly hearts you’d draw on the post it notes on top of his files. 

And when Simon’s grunts started mutating into full fledged sentences, and he actually told you a joke, you found yourself grinning, more out of self satisfaction than because of whatever ridiculous pun he’d said in that deep, rumbling voice of his.

For you, it was over, your plan had worked, and now all your bosses liked you, getting rid of that lingering uneasiness in the back of your head. 

For Simon, on the other hand? You’d unlocked Pandora's box, if said box contained the lieutenant’s affection (obsession) for you.

It was true, he hadn’t liked you at first: you disrupted the routine, the practised flow of the office, and gave Johnny and Kyle an excuse to be fucking insufferable in their working space instead of only in the shitty pubs where they’d drag him after shifts. He was going to lose his fucking mind if he had to hear another “can’t walk into the office looking that good, darlin’. won’t let me get anything done”.

The worst part was that they weren’t wrong; you were pretty and Simon couldn’t deny that. I mean, what did anyone expect, for him to not shoot a look at your arse in those tight trousers? He was but a man.

But when you started your little routine, it sent him down a spiral. What the fuck was your problem? Why would you draw a bloody heart next to the note that reminded him about his debrief? 

What you hadn’t understood, though, was that with a man like Simon Riley, that wasn’t just being nice, it wasn’t getting him to like you. it was an enablement of his ugly heart, something that fed the flames of his desires, because why else would be making him tea? that was practically a wedding vow, love. 

So he decided that you were his, that he didn’t need to discuss it with you because you already worried your pretty, little head too much with work and what future husband would he be if he didn’t try to make your life easier?

That included tellin Kyle to fuck off when he flirted with you, giving you a lift when your car broke down (which had absolutely nothing to do with simon messing with its battery), and helping you find your cat when it ran away (the fucking thing had scratched the hell out him when he’d taken it to that alleyway). 

The most important part of his duties, however, was watching you, making sure you were safe. Because who was gonna do it if not him? certainly not your, in his assessment, untrustworthy friends.

And your locks were so easy to pick, it had only taken him one try.

So Simon watched as you read a book and bought the same the very next day, he watched you prepare meal after meal with the nutritional value of a brick and made a mental note to make you something healthy when he’d finally cook for you, and he watched as you came out of the shower, completely enthralled.

Unfortunately, he had no way of looking into your bathroom but you’d walk into your room wrapped only in a towel so he wasn’t going to be too picky. Especially not when he got to see you rub that vanilla scented lotion that drove him insane into your soft skin, or drop the fluffy towel to the ground only to cover the delicate swell of your breasts with your pyjama top.

His favourite part, however, was without doubt when you’d lie against your pillows, your fingers dipping below your waistband. His sweet bird, not so innocent after all. 

His body would burn as he watched, his hands aching to replace your fingers, his tongue wetting his lips because it couldn’t touch yours.

He held onto every tiny gasp, every quiet whine, knowing that he’d make you sound so much better.

But he was patient and he was going to do things properly, take his time: take you to dinner, buy you gifts, eventually give you the ring he’d already bought. He wasn’t a total wanker, lovie.

So for now he was going to be satisfied with watching you and stealing your panties, offering a gruff “morning, sweetheart” the next day.

[luna-azzurra]

Romantic Gestures for Characters 

❥ The “I Know You” Gesture

Your character remembers something tiny. Maybe their partner always peels oranges but hates the stringy bits. So they do it for them, meticulously. No grand speech. Just peeled oranges on a napkin, handed over like, I got you. It’s not flowers. It’s better.

❥  The “You Matter More Than My Ego” Move

Apologies. Vulnerable, awkward, ugly ones. Not performative, not flowers-as-a-bandage. Just a raw, honest “I screwed up. And you didn’t deserve that.” That’s romance with guts.

❥ The “I Made This With My Clumsy, Lovesick Hands” Attempt

It’s not a five-star meal. It might be an overcooked mess. But they tried. They Googled recipes, burnt a pan, and still showed up with a crooked smile and a smoke-scented apology. Intimacy lives in the effort, not the execution.

❥  The “I’m Thinking of You Even When You’re Not Around” Habit

A voice memo left in the middle of the day. A text that says, “I saw this book and thought of you.” A saved pastry because “you love those stupid lemon ones.” It’s in the thought, the noticing. The I-carry-you-with-me-even-here of it.

❥  The “You’re Safe With Me” Moment

Middle of a panic attack. They don’t run, they don’t fix. They sit. Hold a hand. Count breaths. They become a lighthouse in the fog. That’s not just romance, it’s sanctuary.

❥ The “Make You Laugh When You Want to Cry” Trick

Silly voices. Bad dad jokes. A spontaneous dance in the kitchen just to make them smile. Love doesn’t always whisper—it cackles, snorts, belly-laughs until you can’t remember what the fight was about.

❥ The “I See the You Nobody Else Gets to See” Love

Noticing the nervous tic they try to hide. The quiet resilience. The softness behind the sarcasm. Your character sees it all and chooses to love them there. Not despite their mess, but because of it.

❥  The “I’ll Go to the Boring Thing Because You Care” Sacrifice

They hate art galleries. Or jazz. Or your character’s weird book club full of PhD students. But they show up. They try. They listen and maybe even ask a thoughtful question. Not because they suddenly love postmodern fiction, but because they love you.

❥ The “Let Me Take Care of You, Just This Once” Flip

Especially powerful when it comes from your fiercely independent character. When they finally let someone in. Accept help. Rest their head on a lap and let themselves be held. Or be the one doing the holding for someone who never asks.

❥  The “I Want to Remember This” Gesture

No, not just a scrapbook. Maybe it's saving movie stubs, or voice recording a partner’s laugh because it's perfect and might not last. Maybe it's writing a poem they'll never read. Romance often lives in what we keep sacred, quietly.

❥ Bonus — The Non-Obvious Public Gesture

Holding hands in public when your character usually doesn’t. Or kissing their partner’s temple in front of their disapproving parents. Or calling them “baby” when it makes their partner smile like a fool. Public affection isn’t about performance, it’s about pride. Claiming someone. Softly, fiercely.

[mx-pastelwriting]

Saving My Fanfiction Work

First. Side note: This post was only intended to give resources to fanfiction writers and enjoyers. My talk on recent political events was a context/reasoning on why I made this post. Also I’ve had to add more information to this post over time due to people’s confusion in my comments. Explaining it was to make sure that this post didn’t come off as out of the blue for my followers and this community. Which is fanfiction.

Also, why I made this post was from people asking if they could download my fanfiction because of the recent political events in America hence why I named it “saving my fanfiction work” and added my context. So this was also a post to tell people that liked my fanfiction they could download it as long as it was for their personal collection. I merely just wanted to list resources to people who wanted to download fanfiction and don’t know where to start or don’t have the immediate resources. I’m not here to fear-monger. I am just giving resources and the reasoning on why I’m giving them along with urging people to look into those information/recent events as staying aware is important. I respect everybody who’s given their opinion and yes, some of my grammar in this post is not adequate as this post was merely made for giving/stating resources.

Lastly, I will no longer update this post with comments as I’ve said my peace, nor will I pay attention to the notifications as they are muted. As my page is for fanfiction not politics. Thank you for the people in this community who share this post for the resources see you around the tags! Stay safe friends!!✨ Remember I love you! And you are loved!💛

-

Due to the recent events in the United States. To clarify the recent events being Trump becoming president of the United States, Project 2025 more than likely going to be integrated. If you are not familiar with Project 2025 I urge you to look it up.

Along with the KOSA bill that has many problems and it has passed the senate now needing the finally vote in the house, which both are majority red. Go here to learn more on why it needs to be stopped and how you can. This is another component that will harm our communities. Go to: stopkosa.com

With all of its harmful plans some of the plans are to take down/restrict internet sites that have LGBTQ+ communities that means communities like the fan-fiction communities/sites in the United States.

I am only giving resources to those inside and out of the US in case they banned sites that hold fan-fiction. Better safe than sorry.

Being that I live in the US the possibly of mine and many others Fanfiction has the possibly of being in danger. Therefore I'm giving you recourses. (I'm not leaving or stopping my writing, I'm here for the fight!)

For those wanting to save my fanfiction, I give you permission to download them off of AO3 and to be used for your personal collection. Meaning, your eyes only. To clarify I’m saying this as others have asked if they could download my fanfic so for those who would like to you can.

If you do not know how to download them many others on online have tutorials on how to download them and add them to our phone libraries.

Here are some links to tutorials:

Downloading Fanfic

Adding to Iphone & Android Library

Adding to Kindle Library - Video on How (On TikTok)

Adding Book Covers (At the bottom) - Good EPUB Cover Changer (I use this)

Types of Files and What they mean

Please stay safe out there! Remember to follow the rules below.

DO NOT share the downloaded file anywhere online.

DO NOT repost the downloaded file under your name.

Fanfiction is protected under copyright law when plagiarism is involved. If you plagiarize my work, either a piece or whole in any language, I will take legal action. Inspiration or the same idea does NOT apply to this, only word-for-word plagiarism in any language.

♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their fanfiction being copied, copied & credited, translated, used in videos and/or audios, screenshotted, used in AI, or reposted on any other platform without permission.

♥ mx-pastelwriting does give consent to "reblog," sharing links to direct work, and being in recommend lists.

Please stay safe out there friends! I love you so much! Know that there will always people that love you and in for the fight to make sure you are loved!

And here are some resources in case you don’t feel okay! Resources here

[cupidsworstcrime]

70 Things I think about Boyfriend!Jason Todd

(f!reader)

i am so so so normal about him, I swear

1. He doesn’t bring work home

Jason has a strict no Red Hood talk in the apartment rule unless it’s absolutely necessary. You know when he’s been out rough- he limps a little, his knuckles are raw, but he’ll deflect with, “Guy at the bodega tried some shit.”

You don’t ask. He doesn’t offer. That’s the deal.

2. He’s pierced and quietly punk about it

Yeah, his ears are pierced. Probably has been since he was a teenager trying to look cool in Crime Alley. You caught him wearing your tiny silver studs one morning and when you asked about it, he grunted, “Didn’t want the holes to close.” But now? He steals them on purpose. Your favorite heart-shaped pair? Gone. He’s wearing them on patrol.

3. Jumpy as hell

You’ve learned to call his name gently if his back is to you. Sudden touches get a reaction- nothing violent, but fast. Too fast. His shoulders tense. His eyes flick to every exit like muscle memory. Sometimes he apologizes under his breath like he hates that part of himself. You just squeeze his hand and remind him he's safe here.

4. Lives on black coffee, toast, and junk unless you intervene

Left to his own devices, Jason will literally survive off diner coffee and cold toast- or worse an unholy amount of energy drinks. You started slipping protein bars and cut fruit into his bag like you were packing for a grumpy kid. He acts annoyed. He eats every bite.

5. He smells like leather, gunpowder.... and your shampoo

He started using your shampoo one day “by accident” and now he just does it on purpose. You don’t even complain because the mix of him and you is better than any perfume.

6. Stole your bracelet and won’t admit it

A dainty chain bracelet you lost months ago? It's looped around the base of one of his pistols now, dangling like a charm. When you spot it and raise an eyebrow, he just shrugs:

“Must’ve fallen into my bag.”

“You expect me to believe-”

“Guess you shouldn’t leave your stuff lying around, sweetheart.”

He’s never giving it back. That’s his lucky charm now.

7. Clings in his sleep

He’d never admit it, but he’s a stage-4 clinger. Arm around your waist, face tucked against your shoulder, legs tangled. If you get up to pee, he’ll grumble in his sleep and roll into the warm spot you left behind like a human furnace.

8. Won’t say “I need you,” but he shows it

He fixes your sink at 2 a.m. because it dripped once. He tracks your location “for safety” (but it makes him breathe easier). If you’re late texting back, he spirals internally but never shows it- just casually drops by, “coincidentally,” to check on you.

He won’t say “I need you.” But he shows it. Every damn day.

9. Sings along to old records while cleaning

You caught him once deep-cleaning his guns while singing quietly to a scratchy vinyl playing old blues rock. You didn’t say anything. Just listened. It felt like church.

10. Says “I’m not good at this” but is good at this

He thinks he’s bad at love. He thinks he’s bad at being normal. But he kisses your forehead when you’re sick, folds your laundry weird but tries, and reads the same book five times because it’s your favorite.

He’s good at love. In all the ways that matter.

11. “I love a man in leather” ruined him forever

It started as a joke- you said it with a wink, barely teasing. But Jason? He froze. Blinked. Filed it away. And then that night, lying in bed, stared at the ceiling thinking about all the tactical leather he already owned.

The next time he came home from patrol, he stood awkwardly in the doorway, helmet in hand.

“...Do you like it when I wear the jacket?”

You smirked. He blushed. And that was the beginning of the end.

12. He was pretty sure he was vanilla. He was wrong.

Jason always thought he was a “lights off, soft kisses” kind of guy. And he still is- but now there’s rope in his bedside drawer, wrist cuffs under the bed, and a vague working knowledge of Shibari. He’s not saying it’s all your fault.

But it is.

13. He only lets himself explore it with you

You’re the only one he trusts enough to see that side of him. He’s not used to feeling safe being vulnerable- even when he’s the one in control. But with you? He can breathe. He can ask. He can learn.

And when you look up at him with love and hunger in your eyes, he doesn’t feel like a monster- he feels wanted.

14. He absolutely panicked the first time he said “Good girl”

It slipped out. He didn’t plan it. He just said it in the heat of the moment and you moaned. Hard.

Jason’s brain blue-screened.

He froze for a solid three seconds and whispered, “...Did you like that?”

You nodded.

He never stopped saying it after that. Still says it like it’s sacred.

15. But outside the bedroom? He's still the shyest little freak about it

You: *teasing him at dinner with a wink*

Jason: *choking on his water and glaring at you like he’s been caught committing crimes*

You: “Baby, you literally tied me up last night.”

Jason: “Keep your voice down!”

16. Leather jacket is now permanently associated with you getting handsy

It’s your fault. Every time he wears the jacket, you get a look in your eye like you’re about to climb him like a tree.

Now he can’t put it on without a smug smirk and the quiet thought: She’s gonna pounce.

17. He’ll never go to a sex store in person, but he’s got a burner account online

Jason Todd has a burner account with expedited shipping and privacy wrapping because he’s too much of a shy little freak (to everyones suprise) to risk being seen browsing handcuffs in person.

You caught him once comparing reviews on two different floggers, reading so seriously you'd think it was a medical journal. He blushed hard when you snuck up behind him.

18. Aftercare king

No matter how dark or rough it gets, he’s the most tender man afterward. Holds you close. Kisses your shoulders. Runs you a bath and washes your hair like it’s a ritual.

“Did I go too far?”

“No, Jay. You were perfect.”

And he just melts, forehead against your shoulder, whispering: “Okay. Good.”

19. Still folds towels wrong. Still starts fake fights about it.

He'll tie you up with perfect knots but can't fold a towel for shit. You don't know how the two coexist. He’s a contradiction you’re obsessed with.

20. One time he called himself your “bad boy” and immediately cringed

He was trying to be flirty.

He meant it ironically.

He said, “You like your bad boy in leather, huh?” and then groaned halfway through it like he regretted every word.

You burst out laughing.

He kissed you to shut you up.

He's 'Bad Boy 🎀' in your phone now and he hates loves it.

21. He is so dramatic when he’s sick

This man has literally died. He’s been shot, stabbed, blown up.

But give him a head cold? And he is bedridden. Blanket burrito. Groaning like he’s on his deathbed. Whispering, “Tell Alfred… I fought bravely…” before blowing his nose with your nice hand towel.

22. “I’m fine.” - a blatant lie

He’ll cough so hard he bends over double, then straighten up like nothing happened.

“You need rest-”

“I’m fine.”

“You sound like a dying engine.”

“I’ve had worse.”

Yeah. And? That doesn’t mean he should be eating cereal for dinner and refusing to take cold meds.

23. He won’t admit it but he’s needy as hell

He doesn’t ask. Not directly. But his head ends up in your lap. He “accidentally” falls asleep curled against your side. He mumbles your name mid-fever dream, eyes fluttering open and searching for you.

You bring him soup, and he blinks at you like you’ve just saved his soul.

24. Absolutely pouts if you leave the room too long

He’ll be half-asleep, but the second you get up to do anything- laundry, pee, breathe -he’ll grunt, shift dramatically, and mumble,

“…Thought you left me to die.”

You roll your eyes. “I was gone for two minutes.”

“Could’ve been the end.”

15. He’s warm. Like a human furnace

Fevers don’t just make him sick- they make him clingy and overheat-y. He’ll wrap himself around you like a weighted blanket and then get mad when you complain about sweating.

“I’m literally melting, Jason.”

“I’m dying, but go off I guess.”

26. Gets oddly philosophical when medicated

One dose of NyQuil and he’s pondering the meaning of mortality and if souls really go to heaven.

“You think if I died again, you’d still love me?”

“Jason. Baby. Please take a nap.”

27. Claims he doesn’t remember any of it once he’s better

You mention how cute he was? The way he asked for more soup with a soft “please” and big sleepy eyes?

“I don’t recall,” he says.

You show him a video? “Deep fake.”

Catches you giggling? “You’re making shit up. I’m a menace. I don’t cuddle.”

28. But secretly? He loves how you take care of him

He didn’t get this, growing up. No one ever rubbed circles on his back or checked his temperature with a kiss. He doesn’t know how to ask for it… but god, he soaks it up when you give it anyway.

It’s healing in more ways than one.

29. When you get sick later? He panics

Oh suddenly he’s a nurse. Full-time. Soup. Blankets. Calls in favors from actual doctors he knows.

“Baby, it’s just a sore throat-”

“No. No. I’ve seen this before. It starts with a sore throat. Next thing you know, you’re in a Lazarus Pit.”

30. One time he sneezed in his helmet and you never let him live it down

He didn’t take it off in time. It echoed. It was tragic.

You laughed so hard you cried.

He glared at you with the most long-suffering expression of his life and muttered,

“This is why I work alone.”

31. He warns you the first time things get serious

It’s not the mask that’s hard to take off. It’s the shirt.

The first time you're undressing each other, he pauses, hands shaking slightly as he pulls back.

“I should warn you,” he says.

And then quieter:

“It’s bad.”

32. He avoids mirrors when he’s shirtless

Not just because of the usual trauma- but because sometimes he catches his reflection and flinches. The Y-shaped autopsy scar down his chest is brutal. Surgical. Cold.

It reminds him of what he was: a body on a slab. A lost cause.

Not a man. Not a lover. Just evidence.

33. He expects you to look away

Even as he undresses, he’s already bracing for it- for the flicker in your eyes, the pity or horror or discomfort.

He stares at the wall. Waits for the silence. Waits for the shift in the way you breathe.

34. You don’t look away. Not even a little.

Your touch is reverent. Your lips follow the trail of old scars like a prayer.

“You’re beautiful,” you say.

Jason’s chest stutters, and he doesn’t believe you- not really -but he wants to.

God, he wants to.

35. He never turns the lights on during sex. Until you ask him to.

He’s okay in shadows. He’s safe in them.

But one night, you whisper, “Let me see you,” and something in him breaks open.

He lets the light touch all the places he hides.

And your hands never flinch.

36. His scars are sensitive

Especially the big ones. Sometimes they itch. Sometimes they burn.

But when your fingers trace them? It’s grounding. Calming. Makes him feel like maybe he can own this body again.

37. One time, you kissed his chest and he teared up

He didn’t mean to. It just happened.

You didn’t say anything- just held him while he breathed through it. And that silence? That softness? It meant more than any words could.

38. You bought him a new mirror one day. He stared at it for weeks before using it.

It was taller. Nicer. Framed in soft wood. When he finally stood in front of it with you, he didn’t look away.

You stood behind him, arms around his waist, and he whispered,

“…I don’t hate it as much. When you’re in the picture.”

39. He traces your body the same way now

All the places you’re soft, he worships. All the places you’ve ever been insecure- he sees none of it.

“Look at me,” he says.

“If you can love this,” he gestures to himself, “then you better let me love you.”

40. You never treat his scars like they make him broken

Because they don’t. They make him Jason. And you wouldn’t trade a single inch of him- not the roughness, not the past, not the damage.

Because under all of it, is a heart that still dares to love you back.

And that's more beautiful than anything you’ve ever seen.

41. Letting it slip about the Waynes

One day, while in the middle of an argument (as one does), Jason just blurted it out.

“Okay, fine, maybe I was adopted by the Waynes!”

You froze.

“Wait. Hold up—WHAT?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a Wayne. Big surprise, right? Have fun with that one.”

"...BABY, FUCK YOU MEAN YOU'RE RELATED TO BRUCE FUCKING WAYNE?!?"

Jason just stares at you, clearly unprepared for this reaction.

“I-”

“JASON. WHAT. THE. FUCK.”

42. He immediately regrets saying it

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Jason wants to claw them back. He’s not ready to unpack that- it’s a can of worms he’s been keeping sealed tight.

But then there’s you, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, looking at him like he just dropped the biggest bombshell.

“Shut up, okay? Just—just don’t bring it up ever again.”

But he knows that’s never going to happen.

43. He insists on not using any of Bruce’s money

The second he found out about the inheritance, Jason made it clear:

“I’ll never touch any of that money. It’s not mine.”

Bruce offered him more than enough, but Jason’s pride wouldn’t let him. He’d rather suffer on his own than take a single dollar from the man who, in his mind, could never truly be family.

Yet, when you need something- he can’t help but slip you a debit card once in a while, eyes narrowing as if daring you to question it.

44. Off-brand snacks and drinks, forever

You’re sitting at home one night, you reach for some chips, and Jason’s hand slaps yours away.

“No. Not those.”

He reaches into the pantry and pulls out a bag of “Chipperoni Crunchies,” not the name-brand chips, but the generic stuff. The ones that come in weird, colorful bags with cartoon characters on them.

“They taste better.”

You give him a skeptical look.

He just shrugs.

“They do.”

It’s the same with his drinks. He’ll turn his nose up at anything with a fancy label on it and will only go for store-brand cola that comes in an off-color can.

“You can’t taste the difference,” he insists, as he sips from a glass bottle, wiping the rim like he's a secret connoisseur of trash beverages.

45. He keeps a stash of “guilty pleasures” in your kitchen

No one else is allowed to see the true extent of his obsession with cheap snacks. If Alfred found out, he'd be disappointed. So he keeps it secret.

When you’re not looking, he’ll stockpile all of his guilty pleasure foods in your kitchen: neon-colored candy, microwave pizza, and prepackaged cupcakes with sprinkles that stick to your teeth in the worst way.

“Don’t tell anyone about this,” he mutters, but you both know it’s inevitable.

He’s just Jason. No amount of money or Wayne prestige can make him stop being Jason.

46. The first time you tease him about it, he’s defensive

You laugh at the ridiculously large bag of "fake Cheetos" he’s just brought over.

“Don’t laugh,” he growls. “They’re better, okay?”

“Really? The fake version of Cheetos?”

“It’s called being resourceful,” he grumbles, crossing his arms like he’s trying to defend his honor.

It’s just a bag of chips, but the Wayne pride is stronger than he likes to admit.

47. He will never be caught at a five-star restaurant

You’ve tried. You’ve dragged him to fancy places, tried to get him to “treat himself” to something nice.

Jason? Never steps foot in a place like that unless it's on business- and even then, he’s glaring at the rich patrons like they're the real criminals.

His idea of a perfect date? Fast food, a cheap diner, or just takeout from his favorite hole-in-the-wall pizza place. That’s his comfort zone.

48. If you ever bought him something fancy, he’d get weird about it

You got him a really nice leather jacket once- smooth, premium quality, sleek black.

He took one look at it and immediately said, “You didn’t need to get me this, babe. I’m good with my old stuff.”

But when you weren’t looking, he stroked the soft leather and secretly loved it.

The jacket still sat in his closet, perfectly untouched- just waiting for a moment when he’d admit that maybe he deserves nice things. But he’s not there yet. Not really.

49. He low-key loves your "bougie" (normal) snacks, but won’t admit it

You try to introduce him to your more “refined” tastes. Maybe it’s a fancy cheese, or high-end chocolate, or a real coffee drink that’s not just “instant” powder.

At first, Jason’s all about his junk food. But you catch him secretly swiping the expensive chocolate bar from the fridge.

“I hate these,” he says, but you catch the way his eyes flicker with a guilty pleasure.

“Then why do you keep eating them?”

“Shut up.”

50. He’s proud of his independence

He may hate the whole Wayne legacy, but he’s still proud of how he’s carved his own path. His tastes, his choices- even his snacks -are just another way of proving that he’s not defined by his 'family' name.

And somehow, that’s the part that makes him feel the most like himself. Not the Red Hood. Not “Wayne’s adopted son.” Just Jason Todd.

51. You call him “daddy” in front of someone- an accident to be fair

One morning, you’re in a rush to leave for work and casually call out, “Bye, daddy!” out of habit before heading out the door. You don’t even think twice about it.

But when you shut the door, you turn and see Damian sitting on the couch, looking at you like you’ve just committed the most cardinal sin.

Silence fills the room as you realize what you've done.

Jason, meanwhile, is trying not to laugh while Damian stares him down, and there's a whole "You told her to call you that?" conversation that never gets resolved. Damian just gives Jason the side-eye for the next few days.

52. The first time you meet his family- Oh boy…

When Jason finally takes you to meet his family, you almost choke at the sight of that massive, impressive mansion.

You’d been hearing about them for a while, but nothing could prepare you for the pure opulence of the place.

Jason, trying to play it cool, introduces you to his siblings. But deep down, you can see the unease in his eyes. He’s hoping his siblings don’t completely embarrass him in front of you.

Spoiler: they totally do.

53. Jason’s siblings stealing you away to tell you embarrassing stories

Once they know you’re there, his siblings (usually the most asshole-ish ones) quickly whisk you away to the kitchen or garden, telling you the most embarrassing Jason Todd fucked up stories.

One talks about the time he tried to sneak out as a kid and got stuck in a tree for an hour. Another shares the story of when he lost a bet to Damian and had to wear pink for a week and he cried.

By the end of it, you’re laughing so hard, you can’t tell if Jason’s going to explode or just sit there trying not to die of embarrassment.

54. Jason’s family finds out you’ve been living together for a year- a whole year?!

At a family dinner, you and Jason casually mention you’re planning on moving apartments soon.

That’s when his siblings drop the bombshell.

“Wait, you’ve been living together for a year and never told us?”

Jason looks at them like he’s been caught in a mildly embarrassing situation. “What’s the big deal? It’s not like I owe you a rundown of my life.”

His family is way too interested now, and Jason tries to play it cool, but you both know it’s one of those awkward moments that will haunt him for years to come.

55. Jason’s protective side when it comes to his family and you

If his siblings start messing with you too much or saying anything too embarrassing, Jason’s response is instant.

“Knock it off. You wanna deal with me?”

He doesn’t threaten them, but the way he says it? Yeah, they take a step back.

And when it’s just the two of you later, he’s like, “If they ever make you uncomfortable, I swear, I’ll-”

You reassure him, but you appreciate how seriously he takes your comfort with his family.

56. Jason buys you a ridiculously expensive gift, but it’s low-key, and you’re both uncomfortable

One night, Jason comes home and hands you this insanely expensive necklace with a diamond 'J' charm—way out of your usual price range.

"What's this?" you ask, giving him a confused look.

“Just... because,” he says, scratching his head awkwardly. “I saw it and thought you’d look good wearing it.”

You’re immediately touched, but you can tell Jason’s acting a little weird about it. It's one of those moments where he wants to spoil you, but his pride gets in the way.

57. Jason finds it way too easy to spoil you now though

At first, he fought it. He thought, “Nah, I’m not the type to just throw money around.”

But now? Oh, now it’s second nature.

If you even hint at something you want, Jason’s on it like white on rice.

He knows the moment you mentioned a new phone, you’re gonna find it waiting for you at home. Because Jason was already ahead of the game.

58. His family doesn’t understand his quiet obsession with you

At some point, his siblings ask him directly, “So... when are you gonna admit you’re in love with her?”

Jason almost chokes on his drink. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But everyone knows. His family can see how he softens around you, how he’d do anything to make sure you’re comfortable and happy.

And Jason’s so not used to this, so he just acts all defensive about it, even though his family’s already figured it out.

59. Jason doesn’t actually talk about his family that much

It’s not that he’s embarrassed. It’s just that Jason doesn’t want you to see him through the lens of his family’s wealth and drama.

Sometimes he lets little things slip, but mostly, he keeps his family life under wraps.

He doesn’t need you to like them. He just wants you to like him, and to him, that’s what matters most.

60. Jason’s family low-key approves of you

Despite all the chaos, his family starts to realize that you’re a good match for Jason. You challenge him, make him laugh, and somehow manage to keep him grounded when his ego gets out of hand.

At the end of the day, they know he’s better with you.

That doesn’t stop them from occasionally teasing him, of course, but they can see what he sees in you.

61. Jason panics to pick the perfect ring

Jason spends days- days -agonizing over the perfect ring. It’s not that he doesn’t know what you’d like, it’s just that this is a huge decision. He doesn’t want to screw it up. So, of course, he recruits his sister for help, who takes you out on a ‘girls day’ to get your nails done and do some shopping. You have no idea why, but Jason’s silently breathing a sigh of relief the whole time as she helps pick out a ring that he’s sure will make you say yes.

62. Jason cries while talking to his brothers

Jason never thought he’d be talking about marriage to anyone- let alone his brothers. But here he is, pacing back and forth in front of them, confessing that he’s about to propose. And he's... crying. Not because he's weak, but because he's terrified. “I’m actually doing this,” he whispers, shaking his head. “I’m about to propose to the woman I love. Holy shit, I’m actually doing it.”

His brothers? They’re all smiles and a little bit of laughter, making fun of him, but deep down, they know this is a big step for him, and they support him.

63. Jason gets on one knee, and you don’t say anything

When he finally proposes, it’s simple. In the park where you had your first date. Jason goes down on one knee, holding the ring out in front of you, but you’re so quiet that for a second, he thinks you’re going to say no. Panic sets in, and then you start sobbing, whispering over and over, “Yes, yes, yes.”

Jason’s heart nearly explodes, and he kisses you right there, the world disappearing around you both.

64. Hes... a dad?

A few months after the proposal, you show him the ultrasound picture, and Jason freezes, his eyes tracing the dates. He counts back, and a realization hits him like a ton of bricks. “Oh fuck,” he mutters to himself, panic rising. “That was the night we-”

It takes him a minute, but he’s almost certain. That was the night you conceived. It’s terrifying, yet beautiful, but he’s more scared than he’s ever been. He wants to be a dad, but can he actually do it?

65. Jason moves the wedding date up

Jason may not be traditional, but once he found out about the baby, he made a decision. The wedding date was moving up. He wasn’t going to have his daughter born to parents who weren’t married, and damn it, he wasn’t waiting any longer. He wants to make sure that little girl has the kind of family he never had growing up.

66. The wedding is simple but perfect

The wedding is small and simple, just how Jason wanted it. His brothers are both his best men, and they give him so much shit about it, but Jason wouldn’t have it any other way. You agree to let his sister be your maid of honor, and though there are a few moments of tension, everything falls perfectly into place. Jason, in his suit, looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters. You both say your vows, and there’s no turning back now.

67. Jason holds his newborn and sobs

When you give birth to his daughter, he holds her in his arms for the first time, and Jason just breaks. He’s never been so overwhelmed in his life. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and when he presses her tiny body against his chest, he cries. Big, ugly, full of love tears. "I’m gonna protect you with everything I’ve got," he whispers. "I promise."

68. The Wayne family spoils her rotten

It’s not surprising that Jason’s daughter gets spoiled by the entire Wayne family. Every time they visit, she gets showered with gifts, new clothes, toys she doesn’t even know what to do with. Jason watches it all with a soft smile, knowing how much this little girl is going to be loved and protected. They can spoil her as much as they want, because she’s his little princess.

69. Jason being the ultimate girl dad

It’s her fourth birthday, and Jason’s letting his daughter paint his face with play makeup, sitting there patiently as she dabs the brush all over his face. It’s the kind of moment that makes Jason feel like the luckiest man alive. He’s so in love with her. No matter how messy or goofy things get, he wouldn’t change a thing. She’s his little girl, and he’ll cherish every second.

70. Jason Todd has never been happier

As chaotic and sometimes overwhelming as his life has been, nothing compares to this moment. Sitting on the couch with his daughter on his lap, his arms around you, Jason can’t help but think that this? This is happiness. The love he never knew he needed has found him, and for the first time in a long time, he feels like everything is right. He’s a husband, a father, and for the first time in his life...

He feels at home.

And that leather jacket you got him years ago? He's finally wearing it.

RAHHHHHHHH I AM SO NORMAL ABOUT HIM

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hi! I absolutely love your writing and I've been stalking your page for a while now and I'm really surprised no one requested that one old tik tok trends of S/Os grabbing thier partners feet from under the bed.

PLEASE I NEED TO KNOW THE COD MEN REACTION 😭😭😭😭😭

The way I cackled over this. I love a good prank, especially when there is nothing malicious or nasty behind it. Thank you so much for sending this in!! I had a freaking blast with this. Also, genuinely startled/surprised 141 is just a hilarious concept to me. Enjoy!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

Content & Warnings (MDNI): swearing, hijinks & shenanigans, pranks, established relationship

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

It’s unfair to do this to John, but he makes it so easy. He falls for every one of your pranks. Speedwalks right into them.

And this one is no exception.

You’ve smushed yourself underneath the bed. It’s possible you won’t be able to get out. But that’s a problem for later. Right now, you’re about to scare John.

“I’m home,” he calls out.

You remain quiet. Distantly, you hear the front door shut, and John’s heavy footfalls.

“Dove. I’m home.”

Still, you remain silent.

John calls your name this time. You do not respond.

“Cabbage?”

This time, you almost snort. John doesn’t call you cabbage unless he’s being sincere.

John appears in the doorway, pausing just outside. He takes one step, and then another. He’s just out of reach, booted feet near but not close enough.

“Car’s out front.”

Another step.

You grin, and grab at his ankles.

“What in the bloody—”

John stumbles back, nearly trips, and then rights himself. You cackle, and John sighs. Wiggling closer to the edge of the bed, you bring your face into the light.

“Welcome home,” you grin.

John shakes his head. “I’m not helping you get out from under there.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

You silently chuckle to yourself, rubbing your hands together like some comic book villain. Johnny is just off the game with Simon, walking around the house looking for you.

“Darling,” he calls out, that Scottish lilt making the pet name even sweeter.

You stay hidden, watching him pass the bedroom not once but twice.

Even from your hiding spot, you can hear him muttering to himself as he searches room to room.

His feet and ankles appear, pausing just inside the doorway before heading straight to the bathroom. He checks there, and then the closet.

As Johnny passes by the bed to leave, you take a swipe at his feet.

“Oi!” he shouts, spinning around.

You wait a beat. He takes a step. Pauses. When he attempts to leave again, you make another pass.

This time Johnny yells, rushing for the door, returning seconds later. Moving to his hands and knees, Johnny looks under the bed—but only at a safe distance.

“You,” he says, smirking. He starts crawling toward you.

“Johnny,” you warn, but it’s too late. He’s reaching under the bed, wrestling you out from under it, peppering you with sloppy kisses that leave smears of salvia behind.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon is fresh up from a nap. He has no idea you’re currently hiding under the bed. But you’ve taken his phone, placed it on the bed as bait, making calls on it to herd him toward your hiding spot.

Simon appears, stopping directly beside the side of the bed. Slowly, you reach out, and then manically flail about, grabbing at his sock-covered feet.

You expect that your actions might surprise him. He might even make a sound, or even swear. What you didn’t expect is to hear your unshakably dreary husband let out a shriek like that of a startled old woman. Pulling your hand back, you cover your mouth, stifling a snort.

“Bloody hell!” he shouts, taking a few steps back.

He pauses a moment, and then gets down onto his knees before flattening himself across the floor.

“Come here,” says Simon, voice eerily calm.

Oh. Oh no.

“I’d rather not,” you reply, knowing that Simon is already brewing up a punishment.

“Come out, love.”

You scoot further away. “Your tone is too neutral, Simon.”

“Everything’s fine.”

“Is it?”

“I’m calm.”

You’re nearly out the other end.

“I’ll chase you,” he smirks.

You make a run for it.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“I’m in here, Kyle,” you call out as you slide yourself beneath the bed.

You wiggle around until you’re hidden, waiting for him to follow your voice. You hear his footfalls before he appears.

“I thought we—” He comes to a stop just inside the door. “Babe?” A pause, and then he says your name. Then, softly, “where are you hiding?”

As he steps into the room, and heads for the bathroom, his feet pass by your hiding spot. This is your only opportunity before he figures out that you’re beneath the bed.

You reach out, just brushing your fingertips against him, then retreat.

“Fucking hell!” he shouts, stumbling backward.

You do it again, and this time he growls your name. Taking a step back, Kyle drops onto his stomach, gaze narrowed as it focuses on you.

“Really?” he asks, deadpan.

“I found it hilarious,” you reply.

Kyle sighs and shakes his head. “Move over.”

“What?”

Shoving himself underneath, Kyle drags himself across the floor until you’re shoulder to shoulder under the bed.

“Bloody filthy down here,” observes Kyle. “Needs a good dusting.” He winks. “Got a spider in your hair, love.”

“I regret this so much,” you whisper.

taglist:

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[thepencilnerd]

Glasses Be Damned

pairing: Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x F!Doctor!Reader summary: Lazy Sunday mornings. You in his shirt. Him wearing—glasses? What could be better? genre/notes: domestic, tooth-rotting fluff, banter, implied-but-not-explicit smut, steamy and fluffy like the perfect scrambled eggs (or tofu), beard scruff, you being down so bad for your man in glasses, age-gap relationship word count: 1.8k a/n: happy sunday! I worship those damn 1x01 gifs that live in my head rent free

It was a sleepy Sunday morning. You’d stayed over the night before—his place, not yours—because he made a surprisingly excellent omelet and your apartment was a barren wasteland save for one expired can of soup and half a granola bar. You were planning on moving out soon anyway—leases expiring, schedules syncing, toothbrushes and charger cords already blurring the lines—and in with Robby.

One cold morning not long ago, you’d rushed into the hospital just a few minutes late, hair still dripping and teeth chattering from the walk over. Robby had looked up the second he saw you, eyes narrowing in concern, about to ask what was wrong.

You’d beat him to it. "My apartment’s basically falling apart," you said, breathless as you rubbed your arms. "No hot water, the heater’s busted, and I'm pretty sure there's black mold. I’ll call the landlord later. It’s fine."

He didn’t say anything right away. Just stared at you for a second longer, then quietly shuffled through the papers on the counter.

"You should move in with me," he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You blinked. "What?"

So he repeated himself, just as casually. "Move into my place."

He said it like it was nothing—like he was asking you to grab coffee, or teach the interns how to perform proper chest compressions. Calm. Nonchalant. Then, as if to prove his point, he started listing the benefits: less commuting, better water pressure, warmer blankets, shared groceries, an actual place to hang your coat that wasn’t a pile on your chair, cuddle cards redeemable for forehead kisses and back rubs, and—most importantly—no more freezing walks alone or in the dark. He even threw in something about matching mugs and leaving notes on the fridge like it was a feature, not a fantasy.

You opened your mouth, prepared to deploy every avoidant tactic in the book—because even after dating for a couple of years now, there was still a part of you that worried about taking up too much space, too much of him. But before you could spiral into worrying about boundaries, permanence, or him getting sick of you, he looked up again and softened.

"Hey," he said gently. "If you’d rather find a new place, I’ll help you. Really. I just want you safe, healthy, and not at risk for mold poisoning or hypothermia."

Then, with the same ease as his offer, he pressed a warm kiss to your cheek. "See you in five," he murmured, as if he hadn’t just tilted your entire world off its axis, and walked away.

You stood there, frozen—and slowly, a small smile formed at the corners of your lips.

And that was it. No grand declarations. Just a calm, matter-of-fact offer that left no room for protest. So you said yes.

Robby had frozen for a second like he wasn’t sure he’d heard you right. And then—he lit up. That slow, rare smile spreading across his face like sunrise. He pulled you into a tight hug, spinning you once in the middle of the hallway, laughing against your temple. He kissed you—your cheek, your forehead, your lips—soft and quick and too many times to count, like he couldn’t believe his luck. Like he didn’t want to waste a second not holding you.

"You're going to regret it," you teased.

"Never," he said, kissing you again. "Not in a million years."

Now your things were already half there anyway—socks in drawers, your favorite mug on the drying rack, your name scribbled under his on the mail by the door. And every morning like this only made it feel more like home.

You’d rolled out of bed in one of his soft, worn-in T-shirts—the one with the hem that just barely skimmed your thighs—padding barefoot toward the kitchen in search of coffee, warmth, and maybe a kiss if you looked pathetic enough.

You’ve seen Robby in a dozen different states—bloody scrubs, half-asleep during pre-dawn rounds, in command in a trauma bay, soft and half-melted in post-call cuddles. But you’ve never—never—seen him in glasses.

Until today.

You weren’t expecting it. And there he was, standing at the kitchen counter, hair still a little tousled, wearing black, round-framed glasses while flipping through the newspaper like it was the 80s.

You froze.

He glanced up. "Good morning."

You stared. Mouth agape. Said nothing.

"What?" he asked, wary.

You pointed. "Since when do you wear glasses?!"

He blinked, then winced, lifting a hand to take them off. "I—only for reading. Usually. I forgot I had them on."

"No. No, no, no, no." You crossed the room like a woman possessed. "Do not take those off."

He paused, hand halfway to his face. "Why?"

You stepped closer, practically beaming as you drank him in with eyes like saucers. "Because that—is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life."

He stared at you like you’d just said you were into spleens. "You’re joking."

You weren’t. "Robby," you deadpanned. "You look like the hot professor everyone has a crisis about in college. It's a rite of passage."

"I’m decades older than you."

"Exactly! And only by a decade and a half. It’s working for you." You took a step closer and lowered your voice in the hopes of enticing him. "And totally doing it for me." 

He squinted, expression unreadable for a beat. "They make me look old." But his voice was softer now—like he wasn’t entirely put off by the idea. Like maybe, just maybe, his interest had been piqued.

"They make you look like you read poetry before bed and know how to ruin someone emotionally and intellectually."

He blushed—actually blushed.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, tugging him close. "Why have you been hiding this from me?"

"Because," he mumbled, suddenly very interested in the crossword puzzle, "I thought you’d think they made me look... I don’t know. Grandpa-ish."

"You’re out of your mind," you said, tugging the paper from his hands. "This is my Roman Empire now."

He groaned, burying his face in your shoulder. "You’re never letting this go, are you."

You grinned into his hair. "Not a chance."

His fingers skimmed under the hem of his shirt on your thighs—the one he always liked seeing you in, the one he claimed looked better on you than it ever did on him. His rough thumbs brushed against your bare skin in slow, reverent passes, toying with where the fabric met the soft curve of your hips. Goosebumps followed in their wake, your skin tightening under his touch.

He lingered there, gaze locked on the contrast between cotton and skin, the intimacy of it. The way you wore his shirt like it belonged to you—like he did. A muscle ticked in his jaw, and his eyes darkened behind the lenses.

"You wore this on purpose, didn’t you?" he asked, voice low, one thumb brushing just beneath the hem like it had every right to be there.

You shrugged, playing innocent, but your smile was all heat. "It's pretty cozy."

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, eyes soft but hooded, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to kiss you or pin you to the nearest surface. "That’s not an answer."

You leaned in, lips brushing his jaw. "What are you going to do about it, sir?"

His breath hitched, gaze dipping to your lips before dragging back up to your eyes, hungry and tentative all at once. You felt the shift in the air—warmth curling low in your belly as his grip tightened, just slightly, like he was reminding himself you were real. And here. And his.

"You are unbelievable," he murmured, voice low and slightly hoarse, each word curling around the edges of a smile he couldn't quite suppress. There was awe behind it—fondness and a hint of reverence, like he still couldn't believe you were his.

"And you're absurdly attractive in those frames," you murmured, fingertips sliding up the back of his neck and into his hair, curling gently as you tugged him down to meet you. The kiss you gave him was slow, thorough, but it carried heat—a teasing sort of promise beneath the softness.

His hands spanned your waist, thumbs brushing bare skin with growing intent as he kissed you back, deepening it until your breath hitched against his mouth. The glasses stayed on, slightly askew, and it only made your pulse race harder.

You gasped softly when his lips left yours to trail along your jaw, then just beneath your ear, the scruff of his beard dragging deliciously against your skin. It was just long enough to rasp, to make you shiver, to remind you that this wasn't just soft Sunday morning, off-duty Dr. Robby—this was all of him. "This what does it for you?" he murmured, voice husky, lips brushing your pulse point, beard scraping lightly as he spoke.

"God, I want you to ruin me," you whispered, lips ghosting the shell of his ear, your voice low and just shy of reverent. The grin on your face was wicked, but there was no mistaking the heat behind it—the way your breath caught, the way your body leaned into his like gravity had given up pretending.

He stilled for a moment, like you’d short-circuited something vital in him. Then, wordless and driven by something primal, he kissed you again—hungrier now, hands roaming, touch reverent and desperate all at once.

You giggled against his mouth, breathless. "Race you to the bedroom. Winner gets bragging rights and top position."

His eyes flared with something dangerous and amused. "Is that a challenge?"

"I’m just saying," you murmured, backing out of his arms with a wicked grin, "you’re not the only one with stamina, Dr. Robinavitch."

The next second, you bolted.

Robby cursed softly, then took off after you with a kind of urgency that had nothing to do with competition and everything to do with getting his hands back on you.

Your laughter echoed down the hallway—right up until he caught you halfway to the bedroom, spun you around, and pressed you back against the nearest wall like he’d just won gold.

"Called it," he murmured into your skin, beard scraping, lips insistent. "I can’t wait until this is every morning. Waking up to you, going to sleep with you…" he trailed kisses along your jaw, voice low and reverent as though he were citing a prayer.

You smiled against his mouth, fingers curling into his hair. "Then don’t let me go. Not tonight. Not ever."

He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and tender all at once. "You’re it for me."

The omelet could wait—left forgotten on the counter alongside the crossword and cold coffee. And the glasses? They stayed on. Fogged, slightly crooked, and forever etched into your memory.

[camille-aurelie-deveraux]

What about Max dating reader who is a bit more shy? 🤭

Safe with you

It was the first race of the new season, and the paddock was already buzzing by the time Max and Yn arrived. Cameras clicked, fans waved, team members shouted greetings across garages—but all of it faded slightly as Max stepped out of the car and rounded it swiftly to open the door for Yn.

“Come on, liefje,” he said, hand already extended. “You ready?”

Yn nodded, offering him a soft smile as she took his hand and stepped out. She looked as she always did—graceful, elegant, a bit reserved. The type of presence that drew people in without needing to raise her voice. Her black sunglasses were perched perfectly on her nose, shielding her beautiful eyes from the chaos around her.

Max didn’t let go of her hand. He never did.

“Let me know if it’s too much,” he whispered, leaning close. “We can go straight to hospitality.”

“I’m okay,” she whispered back, squeezing his fingers gently. “I like watching you work.”

He smiled, just slightly. “You like watching me boss everyone around?”

She smirked. “A little bit.”

As they started walking through the paddock, heads turned. Of course they did. Max, the reigning world champion, always drew attention. But lately, it was Yn who had caught the quiet affection of the paddock. She wasn’t loud. She wasn’t flashy. She didn’t post everything online or party until dawn. But she was steady, present. She remembered birthdays. She brought homemade cookies to the engineers. She always looked people in the eye when she thanked them.

And Max—well, Max was famously, visibly obsessed with her.

He never tried to hide it. Not once.

“Max!” someone called. It was Daniel, who was visiting the paddock, leaning against the McLaren wall with a coffee cup in hand. “Mate, you’re late!”

Max laughed and led Yn toward him. “I’m not late. You’re just too early.”

“I’m always early when I hear there’s a chance of seeing your girlfriend,” Daniel grinned, eyes already on Yn. “Hey, angel. You look beautiful today.”

Yn blushed, tugging lightly on Max’s sleeve before offering Daniel a shy smile. “Hi, Daniel.”

“Aw, don’t go hiding behind Max like that,” Daniel teased gently. “We’ve known each other for six years. I think that gives me friend privileges.”

“I’m not hiding,” she murmured. “I’m just standing where it’s safe.”

Max turned and raised a brow at her. “Are you saying I’m your shield?”

“Yes.”

Daniel burst out laughing. “That is the most accurate description I’ve ever heard. You should put that on a T-shirt. ‘Max Verstappen: Human Shield.’”

“I’d wear it proudly,” Max said, slipping his arm around her waist. “Anyway, we’ll see you later. I’ve got a briefing.”

Yn waved lightly at Daniel as Max led her away. As always, Max kept one eye on her while greeting others, making sure she was never overwhelmed, never too close to the media, never cornered by someone too chatty. It wasn’t that Yn was antisocial—far from it. She could hold a conversation with anyone. But it was always clear when she started getting tired. And Max? He knew the signs better than anyone.

They reached the Red Bull hospitality building, and Max opened the door for her before nodding to the team’s head of PR.

“She’ll be inside,” Max told him quietly. “No press today. She’s not feeling it.”

Yn gave him a look. “I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t have to,” he said with a small smile. “I know you.”

She rolled her eyes, fondly. “You’re too much sometimes.”

“And yet, you’re still with me.”

“I must be mad.”

“Six years of madness,” he agreed.

Inside, Yn settled on the couch near the back where it was quiet, while Max went off to his meetings. She liked this part of race weekends—being close but not in the way, reading her book or sipping tea while the world raced around her. The team passed by, nodding and smiling. A few stopped to talk.

“Yn! I made those cookies you liked again,” one of the engineers said, holding up a small paper bag. “Left them in the kitchen. There’s white chocolate chip this time.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, clearly touched.

“You bring him luck, you know,” the engineer added. “He’s calmer when you’re here.”

“I doubt that,” she laughed.

“No, really. Ask anyone.”

---

Later that afternoon, the paddock got louder as more drivers arrived and media started gathering. Max returned after his briefing and found Yn exactly where he’d left her, now chatting with Lando.

“She’s turning social on me,” Max joked, walking up with a teasing grin. “Should I be worried?”

Lando grinned. “Nah, she’s just being polite. I’ve been doing all the talking.”

Yn looked up at Max. “He’s been telling me about his sim setup.”

Max groaned. “He’ll talk your ears off. Come on, you need protection.”

“From Lando?” she asked, amused.

“From Lando’s voice,” Max replied, already holding out his hand. “Let’s go for a walk.”

“Bye, Lando,” she said sweetly, following Max again.

As they walked, Max noticed the way her grip on his hand tightened slightly when the press started to gather. He leaned close to her ear.

“Want me to block them off?”

She shook her head. “It’s okay.”

“You sure?”

“I’ve got you,” she said. “I’m fine.”

He smiled again, that same look he always gave her—like she was the only person in the world.

They passed a group of photographers. One tried to get closer, calling out for a photo of the two of them. Max stopped.

“She doesn’t want pictures right now,” he said firmly.

“No worries, just one—”

“I said no.”

The tone was calm, but unmistakably final. The photographer backed off, and Max guided Yn toward the garages.

She looked up at him. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I did.”

“You’re too protective sometimes.”

“I’ll never apologize for keeping you comfortable,” he said simply. “You deserve to feel safe.”

There was a pause before she spoke again. “Thank you.”

He leaned down and kissed her temple. “Always.”

---

The rest of the day passed in a blur of meetings, media, team briefings, and garage prep. Yn stayed close but not intrusive, always just nearby. Max checked in every hour. Made sure she had water. Made sure she ate. Made sure no one talked her ear off.

At one point, Pierre walked by and spotted them sitting on a bench near the paddock fountain. Max had one arm slung over the backrest, legs stretched out like he owned the place, while Yn was sitting quietly beside him, her head on his shoulder.

“Well, well, well,” Pierre said, stepping into view. “If it isn’t the power couple.”

Yn lifted her head. “Hi, Pierre.”

“Hi, gorgeous. You look like you just stepped out of a Vogue spread.”

“She always does,” Max said proudly.

Pierre smirked. “You’re still the biggest simp in the paddock.”

“Not ashamed,” Max shrugged. “What’s your point?”

Pierre turned to Yn. “Does it ever get annoying?”

“No,” she said with a little smile. “I like that he loves me loudly.”

Max grinned and pulled her closer. “See? She gets it.”

Pierre chuckled. “Alright, alright. You win. I’m off to steal snacks from hospitality.”

As he left, Max looked at Yn. “You okay?”

“Yes.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

🐦🧊⛲️🌊🐦🧊⛲️🌊🐦🧊⛲️🌊🐦🧊⛲️🌊🐦🧊

Hello my lovely reader. I hope you all enjoyed this piece of work. Let me know what you think and send some requests.

-Cami🐦🧊⛲️🌊

[caramelkoo]

no questions asked— jjk

Jeon jungkook wants nothing more than to get settled with his girlfriend, but what if her fear of commitment makes him take a step back? Will he do it, or will he be able to changer her mind for good?

pairing : Jungkook X reader

genre : established relationship, smut, fluff

word count : 6.6k (im begging for forgiveness)

Based on this ask <33

warnings : nsfw, strong language, mature, oc is an anxious girly (same), mentions of emotionally unavailable parents, jungkook is a man of dreams, simp boyfriend jungkook, car sex, unprotected sex (be safe), begging, reference of titanic if you squint, yeah that's pretty much it.

a/n : this took million business days lmao but finally it's here. the sweetest anon requested a drabble but i couldn't do it and as much as i tried to make it shorter, it got stretched to 6k words 😭 so im deeply sorry anon. the rest of you who enjoy longer fics, dig in. I love you guys so much, you might not know this but yall are my besties for resties. kisses. 💌

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Your boyfriend is going to propose to you.

Oh god

Oh. my. God.

Anxiety is not a foreign feeling for you. Although this time, it’s an indescribable sort. Something which is lingering in the deepest pit of your stomach for a lack of better word. Besides, there’s a mayhem inside your head, the voices are loud and intimidating, causing you to bite your lip to a point where they bleed while also staring at nothing. 

Jungkook has been nothing but secretive— the poor boy has no idea that you have already seen the navy blue box sitting inside his side of the drawer. You can swear it was totally unintentional.

In your defense, you had been searching for your glasses and that was the only place left to fish around. Nobody could have prepared you for the utter shock when your eyes fell on that box and so for a minute or two you just stood there, horrifyingly still and stunned. However, you recovered quickly, because to be quite honest it was about time one of you mustered up enough courage to ask the question.

It’s supposed to make you thrilled right? So why does something feel… off? 

“Penny for your thoughts?”, as soon as Cherry’s voice reaches your ears, you snap out of it and flash her a forced smile. 

“Yeah-” you begin, “Yeah uh- I’m just thinking about nothing in particular.” 

“_____ you’re an amazing girl but you gotta work on those lying skills.”

A chuckle leaves your mouth. You shouldn’t even have bothered in the first place, the girl can read you like a book. 

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours huh?” 

She picks up the book before scanning it with the barcode scanner all the while you marvel if you should tell her or just let it go, but then you also know how she would become a pain in the ass if you don’t spill the beans to her. Anyway, she can;t make you overthink it any more than you already have. 

You bite your lower lip before saying, “I feel like Jungkook is going to propose.” 

If looks alone could kill, you would have been buried deep by now with the way the man wearing an olive green cardigan, probably in his 50s, gives you side eye when Cherry drops the book with a loud thud on the counter. 

You wince.

“I’m sorry what?” 

When you subtly signal her to pick what she’s dropped, she takes a hold of the book, apologizes to the man who— you’re hundred percent sure hates your guts now, and resumes her work. 

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you.”

“Ha! Girl you better start telling me more or none of us are going home today.”

She’s talking to you but her hands keep shuffling between scanning the books and expeditiously typing on the keyboard.

A spark of hesitation finds a way inside your heart. The thing is, you’re not sure. Do you want to marry the love of your life? Absolutely. Do you think you can keep the marriage going and stable? No. 

There you said it.

And that kills you because jeopardising your bond and connection with Jungkook is the last thing you want to do.

Maybe, it’s because nobody in your family has been able to keep their inner spark alive after they had gotten married or you might as well blame it on the relationship your own parents have had before your eyes. 

For everyone who couldn’t see past the walls of your house, your parents were an ideal couple. A pair who were equally efficient and successful in their respective areas of life. With your father being a renowned businessman and your mother holding the title of a world famous fashion designer, they couldn’t have been a better partner for each other, right?

Wrong. Too bad you had the honor of being an onlooker of their facade slipping away before getting replaced by their real impudent selves. 

But that’s all you could do though. You were merely just an audience. Someone who could see everything shatter before her eyes and not do a single thing to put an end to it. 

Constant fights, fuming with jealousy over one of them achieving more than the other, sabotaging each other.

All hell broke loose when they began making you take sides. 

You think mommy is better don’t you, honey?

You should be proud of your dad, ____. You’re living such a luxurious life thanks to me. 

For the love of god you were five. What does a five year old know about luxury or human ego? What could you have possibly known about who is better? In your eyes, they were your mom and dad and not some squish mellows placed side by side from which you had to take your pick. Let’s not even start with the emotional unavailability they provided you with.

A knot lodges in your throat and you struggle to get the words out. “I happen to see the box inside his drawer”

“You’re sure it had a ring inside- Wait, don't answer that”, she shakes her head as if she just asked the most ridiculous question ever.

No shit.

“But that’s a good thing right? I mean you guys have been seeing each other for a while now and marriage is the final stop.” she continues and you can’t help but feel terrible, because she is making sense. 

A sigh leaves you, “Yeah no- I mean yeah it is but I didn’t expect him to take the initiative so suddenly. No hints were dropped at all. Marriage is, gosh, I can’t believe I’m saying this but it seems intimidating to me.” 

The queue has finally dissipated at this point so she faces you fully showcasing her engrossment in your dilemma. The girl feeds off drama but refuses to get involved in one.

Her expression morphs into something between horrified and sympathetic. “_____, is that because of your parents?” 

Your heart skips a beat. This whole time you and only you had authority over this thought that your fear of marriage is deeply rooted in your own parents’ fucked up relationship. A belief that lay sly and unseen.

Only after those words left Cherry’s mouth did you realise how venomous they sound. It makes you aware that the fear was not as concealed as you intended to keep it. What are you supposed to do when you find out that somebody else knows about your deepest terrors? Run? Hide? Or simply not say anything? 

Your mouth feels suddenly dry. “What?” 

Cherry takes a hold of your palm and rubs it gently, “If it is, I want you to know that it’s not the case for everyone. Marriage is a beautiful concept, a lovely commitment. Are there some pitfalls to it? Yes. But that’s the beauty of it. The way two people come together and resolve them-”

Your phone buzzes inside your pocket causing you to flinch. Releasing your hands from her hold, you take it out and see your grandmother’s number stare up at you. 

“I’ll just be back.” you excuse yourself just as a woman places a stack of books on the counter.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

“Hey, beautiful” you greet her, a smile lighting up your entire face.

“My baby, did I catch you at the wrong time?” her voice is like a balm to your heart. So warm and comforting. It reminds you of your movie nights with her where you didn’t have to be anything or pretend. You just had to exist and she made it worth it. Always. 

“Now you know even the devil himself can’t stop me from talking to you.” 

A loud chortle reaches your ears and you imagine her throwing her head back, laughing. 

“I was calling to ask if you and your eye candy of a boyfriend are visiting home this year for thanksgiving, dear?” 

Dear lord, you can’t believe you forgot about that.

Your eyes widen, and just when you think you could bubble up some other lie, she speaks up, “You forgot, didn’t you?” 

Yeah, bold of you to assume you can do that and get away. You actually need to work on your lying skills. For whatever reason. You want to pluck your eyelashes out one by one because of how gloomy she sounds.

“I’m genuinely sorry, grams.” pinching the bridge of your nose you continue, “I’ve just been busy with work and barely making ends meet. I promise this is the first and last time I let it slip my mind.” 

With the job you have, there’s only so much cash you can count and while you would love to make a career out of writing, the thought of publishing your own book sends shivers down your spine.

Every time you open the draft a new mistake pops up, taking a percentage of your self confidence down the drain. You’re only human. A microscopic slip catches your attention and you start questioning your life choices. 

“Honey, come home and give yourself some time off, what do you youngsters like to call it? Oh yes, grind. Yeah?” 

It’s your turn to laugh. “Wow someone has been too into love island lately.”

Cherry raises her eyebrows from across the room and you mouth her the word ‘grandma’. She nods with a smile on her face, going back to work. 

A long stretch of silence hangs in the air before you hear her ask, “_____, what else is wrong?” 

The smile which has been adorning your face this whole time instantly drops. You blink.

Once

Twice

Thrice 

“I don’t understand.” Liar.

“You know what I mean, baby. I want you to tell me more, because I know something has been bothering you. What is it?”

Humans are so funny sometimes. They can be as close to you as your own soul and not have a hint of your torment. Meanwhile, there is your grandmother, who despite being so far away from you just….. knew. But again, it has always been like this hasn’t it? 

Whenever you got tired of your parents throwing stuff around the house, making each other lick the floors, trying to make their own and your life a living hell, she knew. 

She was the one who allowed you to cry, and assured you that she would not call you dramatic if she happened to hear your sobs.

You were allowed to cry,

You were allowed to ask for help,

You were allowed to not hold back.

Sucking in a deep breath, you release it, “Everything else is perfect, grams.”

Mr William is always the first person to greet you everyday when you reach the apartment. He’s been working as a guard for years now and you’ve grown quite familiar with him. While being the sweetest man you’ve ever come across, he also brings his wife’s yummiest tarts for you whenever she makes them. Arguably, they deserve more hype than they get.

“She knows how much you love her tarts” he says, making you feel immense gratitude towards his kindness. 

This particular night, he seems…. restless. He’s shifting from one foot to another as you shut the cab’s door behind you. Striding over to him, you mentally try your best to figure out his uneasiness. 

Clearing your throat, your throat as you ask, “Is everything alright, Mr William?” 

Only after he hears your voice, he gains his composure. Or so he tries. 

He hands you a piece of paper which feels a bit wet and you wonder what could have been so intense that the man began having clammy palms.

It’s nearly concerning, not to mention it doesn’t help with your own anxiety at all. If not, shoot it up. 

“Your boyfriend dropped by around lunch time, miss. He handed me this and asked me to give it to you as soon as you come back from work.”

He couldn’t have given it to you yesterday when he was with you in the first place? Weird.

“I see, but why are you so tense? Has something happened?” 

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “My wife has been sick and I was supposed to leave early but I figured it would be better if I gave it to you safely before going home to her.” 

Fuck

“You could have given this to me later. Your wife comes first, sir.” you gulp, “Please, I appreciate your gesture but she needs you more. Thank you so much and please let me know if I can be of help.”

He releases an empty chuckle. “Thank you, Miss” 

With one last nod you walk inside the building while also hoping he doesn’t call you for help. Not because you won’t do anything it takes to help him, but because you hope it wouldn’t come to it. The moment you shut the apartment door behind and turn on the light, the piece of paper steals your attention. Without waiting any further, you unfold it, coming across Jungkook’s writing. 

The note alone feels like he whispered it into your ear before placing the softest kiss on your skin. Your lips stretch into a serene smile as you stride over to the bedroom, turning the doorknob as your gaze catches a purple bodycon resting on top of your bed. It is accompanied with a bouquet of pink tulips as well as a bar of Dubai chocolate. 

Your head that has been nothing short of a commotion is now finally at peace. Not entirely but at peace nonetheless.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Jungkook was 12 when he went on his first roller coaster ride. He was, like every other child, afraid. Afraid that he might fall and hurt himself so bad, he wouldn’t ever be able to get up. The roller coaster had a massive drop followed by a corkscrew which took him upside down. Until the moment Jungkook saw a woman in yellow dress buying a bunch of tulips from the flower shop he very often visited, he had never felt his stomach bottom out as strongly as it did during that drop back then.

There she was, chatting with the florist as if they’re best friends. He could see her behind the glass picking out the pink tulips before sniffing them. Meanwhile, Jungkook stood across the road, soaked and enchanted as he wondered if he should ask for her number or chicken out. Eventually, the latter won. 

But here’s the thing, Jungkook is not one for losing. He hates losing, even the term makes him want to peel his own skin off. 

He saw her hair first, becoming curly locks reaching down to her waist and just above her hips. Granted that his line of sight only allowed him to see her side profile, he assumed she was gorgeous. It was not unlikely for him to see beautiful women on a daily basis, but something about her just sucked him in. His eyes could not leave her face and he believed even if they tried, he would pluck them out just to punish them. Was it weird that his hands itched to hold a woman he doesn’t even know? 

What’s her name?

Where does she live?

What’s her favorite color?

How does she like her coffee?

There’s a japanese phrase called koi no yokan which means that you eventually will fall in love with a person you meet. You’re going to grow so fond of that person that you would want to see no one by your side but them. She was that person for him. 

He rubs his hands for the nth time in a futile attempt to warm them up, waiting outside ____’s building. How is this evening going so slow? He has been here for perhaps half an hour now, so why does it feel like it’s been a decade? 

And funnily enough, the only person who can put him out of his misery is _____. At this point, the guy fears he wouldn’t be able to so much as look her in the eye, but not doing that will be the end of him too.

He looks down and lets his hands run over his black button down shirt, wondering if she would like it. She loved seeing him in black on the first date. A loud click clack of heels grab his attention, perking his ears up. He looked up and there she was in all her glory. 

Jungkook releases a breath and rubs his chest as if his heart hurts. As if it’s telling him how unworthy he is of this woman who is walking up to him, who may be as nervous as him but still chose him as her man. 

The woman who could have anyone she wanted wrapped around her pinky finger gave her days, nights and evenings to him. She smiled at him, for him and if he was lucky, because of him.

_____ stops before him while he’s still adjusting to the sight of her. “How do I look?” 

Unreal, exquisite and way out of his league.

He shakes his head from side to side, thinking of a single word that would suffice the answer to that. He fails and so instead he runs his fingers down her forearm until he reaches her soft hands and takes it into his own cold ones. 

Placing a chaste kiss on her knuckles, he begins. “My imagination of you in this dress has got nothing on this vision.” 

Her face morphs into the softest expression of love, “And exactly how many times have you imagined me in this dress, Jeon Jungkook?” 

He takes a step forward, his chest almost touching hers. “I can’t answer that. You want to know why?” 

“Why?” Her voice is emotionless. His thumb grazes her lower lip as he tries not to smudge her nude lipstick. “Because if I do, we’ll have to go back into your apartment and try not to wake your neighbours up.” She swats his chest and softly pushes him back, dissolving into a giggle. 

“You’re looking quite handsome yourself.” she says as her eyes shamelessly check him out. His sleeves are halfway folded stopping just below his elbow, beautifying his tattooed forearms.

He’s also wearing his favorite blue baggy jeans with his usual black chunky boots. The same ones he goes for when he knows _____ might not be able to bear the pain caused by her heels, so he ends up swapping them with the boots.

He would argue carrying her all the way to her apartment instead, but settles elseways. 

Jungkook opens the car door for her and only after she’s well seated, he runs to his side and takes off. 

The ride to the restaurant is quiet despite the obvious tension that doesn't go unnoticed by either him or her. As much as he would like to spend the rest of the night snuggled into bed with her, he knows there is something more significant than that. So instead he indulges in caressing her thigh. 

“After you, angel.” He places a hand on the small of her back. 

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

The ambience looks straight out of the movies. Like a paradise. Violinists are playing a chorus of Fuck her gently by Tenacious D far across the room. 

Jungkook catches an unknown look on her face. “Something’s wrong?” 

She shakes her head, flashing him a smile. “I love this song.”

He places a tiny kiss on her temple. “I know, baby. C’mon.” 

You know how women have this killer instinct of knowing if and when somebody’s watching them? It’s like they have a separate pair of googly eyes on the back of their head to protect them from creeps. 

From the moment you have entered the place, the man in the wine shirt has been making a hole in your face with the way he’s been staring at you. 

Is your dress too revealing? Are you showing too much skin?

“Oh I forgot to tell you. Your grandmother called earlier today.” Jungkook disrupts your thoughts. 

You gulp down the last piece of steak before answering. “Let me guess she asked you to join her for thanksgiving?” He nods, a bright smile on his face. “I told her I would love to.” 

A cheeky smile unfurls slowly on your face. Jungkook loves your grandmother. Maybe a little bit more than you do. Just a tiny bit though. Last year when you and he visited her, he was the first person apart from you to get a hug out of her.

Your grandma is not much of a hugger by the way. Her hugs are totally exclusive. 

“I’m sure she loves having my ‘eye candy of a boyfriend’ there.” 

Jungkook snorts, placing his fork down. “She called me an eye candy?” 

He dissolves into a fit of laughter when you answer his question with a nod. 

“See now that’s the biggest achievement I have had in a while. I mean what are the odds your wife’s grandma calls your an eye candy-”

Something sours in your stomach. The steak here tastes awful or maybe it’s just you feeling pathetic that as soon as he says ‘wife’ your expression morphs into something so dreadful that it causes him to stop. What are the odds that you just gave him a reality check and dragged him out of a fool’s paradise?

“Angel, what’s-” 

You stand abruptly, cutting him off yet again. His eyes bob all over you, and then a sad frown puckers between his brows. 

“I’ll just be back. I need to use the washroom.” You say as you grab your handbag as quickly as you can before leaving him there. Confused and wondering what the fuck just happened?

Few minutes later, just as you’re walking outside the washroom and making a way towards your table someone’s voice causes you to stop midway. 

“Excuse me.” 

Turning to face the person, you come face to face with the same man from earlier. The one wearing a wine colored shirt along with a nasty expression. You believe he’s trying to look cocky but is failing miserably.

“Can I help you?” 

A slow smile spreads over his mouth. “I couldn’t help but notice that the man you’re here with seems to upset you in some way.”

An awkward chuckle leaves you. “The man is my boyfriend and I don’t think it concerns you if he’s upsetting me or not.” 

He walks a little closer. Oh no, this is bad. 

“Fair enough,” he shrugs, “But clearly he’s not being a good boyfriend, is he?” 

The audacity of this man.

You huff out a frustrated breath, “Listen, you need to shut up and stay within your limits. It’s not healthy going around poking your nose into everyone’s business.” 

His sly smile grows even more as he steps closer than before. 

The hair on your body stands up, and not in a good way, but in a very uncomfortable way. You suddenly regret the idea of leaving Jungkook’s side. Bad, bad decision. 

Currently, you have two options. You can either just walk off and act like nothing happened, which by the way, is a safe option or you can kick the man in the balls and then act like nothing happened.

Since you're much more accustomed to the former option, you decide to do just that but when his hands grip your wrist with an iron grip, you settle on the latter. 

You knee him between the legs with an intention to hurt him as he grunts in pain, his hands gripping where you just kicked him. 

“You fucking bitch.” 

Before he can say anything further, you storm off. Your phone buzzes inside your handbag and you automatically assume it to be Jungkook’s call. As soon as you spot him across the room, you feel the clouds parting, there’s a feeling threatening to arise. It’s something between protected and anguished. 

Anguished because you let your mind speak so deafeningly that it silenced the oh so loud love Jungkook has for you. And protected because you know for a fact that if he had any idea about what that man just did to you, he would not think twice before dragging him by the hair before bringing him to his knees in front of you to apologize. 

He stands once he sees you and you waste no time running towards him. Your arms go around him as you nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck. His arms immediately embracing you in return, securing you against his chest.

It feels warm.

Concern laces his voice as he says, “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you. Breathe” 

You don’t even realise you’re panting unless he says that. You’re aware that at this point the way you flung yourself at him must have got everyone’s attention. But you genuinely don’t care. It might as well be an auditorium full of people watching you hug your boyfriend like an anchor, you just don’t care. 

You realise that’s exactly what Jungkook is. Your anchor. Someone who didn’t even ask as to what happened before he straight away began consoling you. 

His hand envelops the back of your head in a protective way while the other soothes your back. 

“Do you want to leave? We can leave right now if you want to.”

“Yes, please.”

His body shakes as though he just nodded. “All right, let me pay real quick and we’ll leave yeah?”

Your voice is muffled against his chest. “Yeah.”

You suck in a sharp breath as he lets you go. The small folder on the table grabs your attention. He opens it only to find a note inside of it saying— “It’s on me, gorgeous”. 

You can see the wheels in his mind turning, but before he starts asking you any questions which may or may not cause a breakdown of yours, you say, “I’ll explain it to you outside. Can we please go?” 

“Let me see wh-”

“Please?” He lets out a defeated sigh and nods. “Yeah- Yeah let’s go.” 

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

At first when Jungkook saw that note, the first emotion that he felt was rage and a very serious one at that. But it was soon replaced by realization. It doesn’t take a scientist to figure out that something nasty went down after _____ left to use the washroom. Something he can’t wait to get to the bottom of. Nevertheless, he didn’t want her to be pressured to answer the more obvious question. 

Jungkook’s girl is attractive. She’s kind and empathetic and fucking stunning which makes her worthy of all the attention she gets. Of course men are going to want to be with her. 

Initially, it bothered him. A lot. 

Now, though? He’s grown rather used to it. However, it has never come to having someone pay for her in a restaurant. Even the thought of someone so much as speaking to her in an inhumanely manner makes him want to punch a hole through a wall. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

The silence is too loud inside the car. He can hear ____’s heart beating loudly or is it his own?

She’s leaning back with her head against the headrest. When she doesn’t respond, Jungkook speaks again, “_____ baby, will you please at least look at me?” 

Her eyes connect with his and he flashes her the softest of smiles.

Taking her hand, he kisses the inside of her wrist where he can feel her pulse. 

Thump thump thump. 

“I want you to give me something, angel. Anything.” 

He can see her gulp before admitting, “There was um… there was a guy outside the washroom and he kind of tried to force himself on me,” she closes her eyes for a brief moment, “Maybe I’m just being dramatic, but I handled him.” 

Jungkook’s stomach drops. He was right. His hands fly out to open the car door before _____ holds him back. “Don’t. I said I handled it.”

He turns back, his voice leaking with anger along with something more barbaric. “And I’m proud that you did, but if I don’t go in and beat that asshole into a new one I won’t be able to call myself a man worthy of you anymore. I need him to know that he can’t fuck with my girl and go about his goddamn day.” “Jungkook, please. I can’t take it anymore. Please stop.” 

And he does. For now. 

He leans back, running his hands over his face with frustration. For a few minutes he and ____ just stare outside the front glass of the car. The parking lot slowly gets empty as people leave for their homes one by one. 

Just when he thinks  _____ has dozed off, her voice reaches him. “Can I get one more hug?” 

“Come here.” 

He takes her into a warm embrace before kissing the top of her head, settling his lips there. His anger has yet not fully dissipated, but having her so close calms his heart. It calms his whole being. Her touch, her breath against his skin, her presence heals something in him.

Therefore, he made up his mind about spending his whole life with her. The little slip of words, which by the way was totally unintentional, soured _____'s expression and that didn’t go unnoticed by him. 

She’s scared but he fully intends to let her know that she doesn’t have to.

______ unwraps herself from his arms and pushes back. Just enough for their noses to touch.

She shakes her head, “Don’t give me those eyes.” 

Jungkook holds back a smile. “What eyes, angel?” 

“The same ones you give me when you want something dirty to happen. Those big brown eyes of yours.”

He lets a chuckle slip out. “I’m down if you are.” 

When she offers him her own laugh, gosh it’s as though he comes alive. If he could bottle up the sound, he would. Something passes in _____’s eyes. Lust? Desire? He can’t pinpoint. 

He wants to kiss the hell out of her though and he wants to do it desperately. Her eyes drop to his mouth and he takes it as a sign to lean forward and press his mouth against hers. 

Her lips part ever so slightly followed by her gripping Jungkook’s collar to bring him even closer. So close as if she wants their souls to intertwine. 

The feeling is very much mutual. 

She gets up from the passenger’s seat without breaking the kiss and straddles his lap. Her legs on either side of his thigh as their core’s touch. Jungkook is not sure how long he can endure this sweet pain of waiting. 

In all sincerity, he’s been holding himself back from the very moment he saw her walking up to him in that dress. Do with that information what you will. 

Now, he just wants to say fuck it and get inside her— only that he can’t, because he wants her to take her time and ask for it. Then and then only he will fuck her. If it’s inside this car then so be it. 

The kiss is electric and filled with passion, tingling his skin in all the right places as she matches his enthusiasm with her own.

______ pulls back with a deep breath, leaving Jungkook panting heavily. 

“Please.” she begs. 

A strand of hair falls on her face. He tucks it behind her ear. “Please what baby?” 

“Please fuck me, Jungkook. I want you so bad and I want you right now.” she whines.

He grins. “At your service, ma’am.” 

He hears _____’s light chuckle as he gets out of the car, carrying her with him while also making sure she doesn’t hit her head on the hood. She detaches herself from him once they’re out and settles in the back seat. Only after ensuring she’s comfortable enough, Jungkook follows her. 

His body lays on top of her and he wastes no time as their mouths collide. Her finger grip the hair on his nape and he groans with pleasure, his cock going thick. He rubs it on her lower stomach to show her how much he wants her, gaining a moan out of her. 

Jungkook’s head goes fuzzy with every passing second. He almost comes when she lifts her hips up and rubs a slow circle against his cock. 

“Fuck.” He groans, pulling back from the kiss. _____’s cheeks are heated and lips are swollen. He did that. Her man did that. 

Suddenly, he’s grateful for the tinted glass and his big car. 

_____ lifts her head up and kisses his sweaty cheek, swiping his forehead with her palm. “You’re sweating, honey.” 

“Yeah, I tend to do that in your presence. Do you know how hard it was for me to stay sane after seeing you look so unbelievably gorgeous?” 

She passes him a lazy smile, “You’ve always been so good at controlling yourself, haven’t you?” 

“Not anymore.” He sits up, knees on either side of her body and starts unbuckling his belt all the while panting with excitement. His pants slide halfway down letting his cock spring free. Thick, angry and leaking with precum. His shirt goes next.

______’s eyes flash with lust as she bites her lower lip. The straps of her dress have slipped down, leaving her tits bare and open for Jungkook.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, baby.” he leans forward as she runs a hand up his bare spine, hooking her legs over his hip.

“Please.” she whispers. 

A loud thunder outside the car grabs Jungkook’s attention. Nice, he’s so horny he didn’t even realise that it’s raining. Another rumble of thunder drowns their panting breath but he still only focuses on the woman beneath him. The goddess of a woman who trusts him with her body. How lucky he is to call her his own. 

She brushes his hair out of his face, her thumb dusting over the mole on the bridge of his nose before her hand follows the path of his tattooed arm, his rib, his ass, until she wraps a fist around his dick. 

He pushes into her hand. “I need to grab the condoms from the console, angel.”

There’s a brief moment of silence, the car filling with the pants and whimpers before she says, “I want you bare. I’m on the pill.” 

Jungkook has never gone without condom nor has he considered going without one, but this woman right here just asked him to get inside her bare and fuck if it doesn’t tempt him.

And so he gives in, but not before asking, “Are you sure?” 

“As sure as one can be.” 

He nods, bringing his lips back to hers. His hand finds her thong under the dress as he slides it down her legs. Then he strokes a single line up and down her slit, wetting his finger with her cum. When he brings the same finger to his mouth and sucks on it, _____ all but whimpers. 

His cock follows next and he does the same with it, rubbing himself up and down her slit as he coats himself in her before he presses his thumb down on the head of his cock, curls his hips forward, and pushes into her. 

Tortuously slowly, inch by fucking inch. 

She’s so warm and tight for him. He’s not sure how long he can take before he shoots his load inside of her. 

“More.” she pleads, her face morphing into the most beautiful expression of pleasure. 

Jungkook pulls back and pushes again, watching more of a length disappear inside of her. He’s not even halfway in and she’s already crying out his name. 

Leaning in, he bites her neck in an attempt to give her his all. All his love, all his nights and all his life. The question is at the tip of his tongue but considering what happened inside, he quickly holds himself back. 

“You’re doing so good for me, my angel. Taking me so well,” He thrusts again. “You’re made for me, aren’t you?” 

She cries out. 

“What was that?” She throws her head back. “Yes. Oh my god” 

Thrust. “Yes, what baby? I’m gonna need you to say it.” 

Jungkook takes her nipple in his mouth, sucking on it until she cries out again, “I’m made for you. Fuck.”

He releases the nipple with a loud pop. “That’s right you are.” His pelvic bone is flush with hers, ____’s legs as wide as possible to accommodate him. She dusts her fingertips up and down his spine while he slowly kisses along her jaw.

When she pushes her heels into his ass, urging him to move, he pulls out part way before pushing back in again. 

She lets out a moan quickly followed by his own. _____’s hands run over Jungkook’s abs, nipples, and wrap around his shoulders. 

He’s fucking her slowly, taking his time, feeling her body and letting her feel his too. Every brush, every graze, every breath is precious to him.

Soft and intimate. 

So when the next words leave Jungkook’s mouth, he blames it on the moment. “Marry me.”

_____’s eyes which were closed earlier, savoring the very moment, pop open and his movement halts. 

“What?” 

“Fuck. Okay, I know this is not a position or place a woman wants to be proposed in, but I have to say this before I go insane. _____, I know you’re scared and I also know the reason behind it. Of course, I won’t ask you why you kept that part a secret from me, because I respect you and want you to take your time. But baby,” he brushes his thumb over her cheekbone, “I need you to know that I will die before I let anything like that go down between us. I love you so much you don’t even realise. Sometimes I even shock myself with how much I cherish you. You’re a gift to me, a gift which brings out the best not just in me but in everyone she meets.”

He places a small kiss on her forehead before continuing, “I can go anywhere, see everything but it still wouldn’t match the level of affection I hold for you in my heart. Still wouldn’t match the beauty of your smile, you amazing woman. You’re all I have ever wanted. So please, make me the happiest motherfucker in the world by saying ye-”

“Yes” 

‘What?”

“Yes, I’ll marry you. Now will you please shut up fuck me like you promised, husband?” 

He bites her jaw, “Oh, I’ll fuck you so nice you’ll be begging for more, wife.”

Soon enough, _____’s lower lip trembles as her orgasm takes over, and he has the privilege to watch it all. The fluttering of her lashes, the marks of her nail down his arm and the way she calls him her husband again when she’s able to find her words. 

He’s so gone.

About half an hour later when he asks her again as to what changed her mind about marriage, she says something so deep yet in such a casual way, he wants to cry. 

“When I hugged you inside, you didn’t ask questions. You just let me be and that may seem like a miniscule thing for someone else, but for me it was enough. Enough to stay with you until I turn all wrinkly and grey haired.” 

[whosmariaaa]

— part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 !

college! sukuna took his chance as soon as he saw one. there was an upcoming project in english class, the one where you coincidentally were in too. and the best of it all, it was a partnered project.

“are you seriously this down bad, sukuna?” gojo asked, raising one of his eyebrows. sukuna glared at his friend in response. “shut the fuck up, gojo. i’m just saying. you can go with fushiguro, and i’ll find a new partner,” he replied.

“you’re pathetic,” toji chimed in with a smirk. all three of them were very aware of sukuna’s plan. honestly, he wasn’t even all secretive about it either.

still, sukuna didn’t take any insults and got on his feet. “say that again, fushiguro. i dare you,” he warned threateningly. toji huffed, and jokingly shot his hands up in defence.

“you two are fucking losers. i should go find other friends,” sukuna snarled as he got up and left. gojo just chuckled and waved him off, and toji seemed unbothered by his attitude.

so, plan in action. sukuna went to one of the professors, and requested if he could be working with you for the project. how can the professor say no to this 6 foot something, tattooed, menacing man cornering him? safe to say, sukuna left the classroom in satisfaction.

the next day, when you found out you were partnered with him for the project, you were on the point of actually throwing that chair to his head. but, you stayed calm, cool and collected (you were seething).

“what’s got you in such a foul mood, hm?” sukuna queried, his stupid smirk evident.

“what the hell do you think?” you snapped.

“calm your tits, woman. it’s just a little project,” he teased. you grabbed your book, and threw it at him. he caught it with ease.

you had come to the agreement to stay in the library after school, even though he tried convincing you to come to his or your dorm. you were not moved in the slightest. so, sukuna reluctantly came to the library.

“fuck are we even supposed to do?” he asked after a moment of silence. you turned your head to him, “are you actually serious? i just spend the last hour explaining this shit to you!” you retorted in annoyance. he just shrugged and watched you in amusement.

“you’re so insufferable, sukuna! how fucking stupid are you? why am i even paired up with you? you literally can’t do dogshit, and you’re just sitting there, doing nothing, while i have to do this entire dumb project!” you rambled in anger. he leaned his head in his palm, looking at you. man, if he wasn’t in love before, he surely was now.

“you’re kinda hot when you’re mad, sweetheart,” he smiled. you had to physically restrain yourself from beating his ass right here, right now.

“what the hell is your problem?” you jeered.

“don’t play dumb. you’re sitting here, all cute and concentrated, and you expect me to fucking listen to a word you say? i’d rather be doing something else with you,” he replied. you stared at him, speechless.

while sukuna wanted to kiss you senseless, you wanted to punch him senseless. this guy was seriously pissing you off.

“man, whatever. you can do this part of the project, and you better have it finished by tomorrow, or i’ll beat your ass, got it?” you huffed.

“mhm, i got it, baby,” sukuna hummed playfully. your fists clenched. you grabbed your stuff and your bag and got the hell out of here before you actually punched him senseless.

gojo and toji were right, sukuna thought. he was definitely very, very down bad for this girl.

──★˙🍓̟!! i’m not very sure what to think of this part, but i do hope it’s readable! thank you all so so so so much for all the likes, comments and reblogs! 💗

[ham1lton]

I’LL BE THE GIRL OF HIS DREAMS (MAYBE??)

pairings: oscar piastri x stan account!reader

warnings: none?

faceclaim: pam hughes / pamalaaam on ig.

summary: it is a truth universally acknowledged that a fast driver must be in want of a girlfriend—oscar piastri just didn’t expect his to be a twitter menace.

author’s note: jam is just a nickname that yn goes by online, which is good for security on the internet. stay safe kids !

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend and 20,838 others.

yourusername: girl date w/ bffname. jam, books and the winter air. what could be better?

view all comments

user1: WAHT?!

— user2: omg she wasn’t joking she’s actually that gorgeous.

user3: sorry you’re so pretty i’m taken aback. i assume that all ppl who argue online r hideous trolls but you’re clearly not. sorry. i apologise.

user4: did u buy your namesake?

— yourusername: ofc!! spent my paycheck on new ones. i’m the proud mama of two strawberry jams 😽

user5: LANDO LIKED YOUR POST

user6: literally drop the skincare routine rn or i’m calling the authorities.

– yoursername: genetics + water + spite <3

user7: girl what books did u get i need the haul

– yoursername: east of eden, the glass castle and some other classics!! i’ll post a proper vid later if you’d like <3

user8: lando liked… HE’S WATCHING.

– user9: he’s been watching. oscar is shaking.

user10: okay but imagine arguing with someone online and then finding out they look like this. i’d delete my account.

– user11: user3 already went through all five stages of grief in these comments.

user12: winter air is nice and all but i feel like oscar should be here warming you up just saying!!

friend: girl date and no invite?! feeling betrayed rn …. 😓

— yourusername: ur in australia but i apologise. we should have walked through land and sea. next time i see u i owe u a matcha for the trauma babe 😞

— friend: a decent apology. i accept it 😽

user13: she fights, she reads, she stuns… what CAN’T she do?

– yoursername: parallel park.

user14: not me zooming in to confirm this isn’t an ai-generated model.

– yoursername: sorry to disappoint, i’m very real and very chronically online.

user15: OSCAR GIRLIES R HOT WBK <3

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from: mclaren racing team@mclaren.com

to: jam jamdoesf1@gmail.com

subject: you’re invited – race weekend with mclaren

hi jam,

we hope you’re well. we’ve been following your incredible f1 content and couldn’t help but notice your… passionate defence of a certain quiet australian. it’s safe to say the team (and the driver in question) are fans.

we’d love to invite you to join us for the upcoming grand prix weekend as our guest. paddock access, behind-the-scenes moments, and yes – proper tea and snacks included.

let us know if you’re available and we’ll sort everything on our end, including travel and accommodation. we think you’ll have a lot of fun.

looking forward to hearing from you.

cheers,

the mclaren team.

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liked by alexandrasaintmleux, yourbff and 45,838 others.

yourusername: hotties make some noise! (all u haters that say matcha tastes like grass r BABIES!!!)

view all comments

user1: i would recognise my goat’s hand anywhere… by touch alone, by smell; i would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. i would know him in death, at the end of the world.

— user1: my boo bear. my king. my reason. my oscar.

— user2: lando get off ur burner.

— user3: ICB LMFOAJDHEISJDN ?!38393&:

user4: jam ily. u taste good in matcha too. multi-use queen <3

*liked by yourusername.*

alexandrasaintmleux: gorgeous girl 🤍 lovely meeting u!!!

— yourusername: says the most gorgeous girl in recorded human history. omg blushing rn 😝

user5: u could say cement tastes good and i’d try it.

user6: jam you’re so fine it’s honestly starting to feel like a personal attack

user7: OSCAR DATING AN F1 OBSESSED GIRL YASSSSS

— user8: me and jam as the mclaren wags. i can see it now.

user9: the middle pic is giving “soft launch” and i’m spiraling

— yourusername: it’s giving “he paid for the matcha so i had to post him”

user10: is ur name really jam?

— yourusername: not legally or professionally or personally but yea :)

user11: the way jam is so unhinged on twt but is the sweetest ever on ig needs to be studied….

— user12: like on twt when she threatened to pull up on that guy who was saying awful things about oscar and he deactivated all his socials??? vs on ig where she goes to farmers’ markets like a granny 😭

user20: if oscar doesn’t soft launch you back i’m rioting

— yourusername: pls i’d settle for him texting back within 3-5 business days

— user21: NOT OSCAR FUMBLING BAD BITCHES NOOOO

— user22: @/oscar GET UPPPPPP!!!!!

— user23: WTFFFFFFFFF STOP THIS MADNESS @/oscar

— user24: if i had a baddie like this i would do anything she asks… jam says jump? i say how high… oscar u need that energy NOW!!!!

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

[thatdammchickennugget]

Boyfriend Services

pairing - remus lupin x fem!reader

summary - remus is not your boyfriend, but he sure acts like he is

warnings - fluff, lots of teasing, slightly suggestive at the end I guess, oblivious remus and reader, drinking, sirius has a little splinter, reader has hair long enough for a ponytail and it's mentioned she's wearing a skirt once

a/n - have been spending my breaks at work writing this and now that it's finished I need something new to work on, oh noo

wordcount - 5.8k

Remus had been on the same page of his book for the last fifteen minutes, staring at the words but not actually reading them. Across from him, Sirius was slouched in an armchair, flipping absently through a magazine, and James lay sprawled out on the rug, tossing a rubber ball into the air, catching it without looking.

It was a rare, quiet night, the kind that didn’t happen often anymore. Just the three of them, hanging out and each doing their own thing, and Remus thought, rather optimistically, that maybe he’d actually be able to finish his book.

Then his phone buzzed against the armrest.

He sighed before even looking at the screen, already knowing what it was about.

‘Can you come get us? We’re a little drunk. Actually, we’re a lot drunk.’

A second later, another message popped up.

‘Lily says hi. Mary is singing. Marlene is threatening to fight a bouncer for funsies.’

Remus scrubbed a hand down his face. “I have to go pick up the girls,” he announced, already reaching for his jacket.

James and Sirius exchanged looks, their smirks identical.

“Ah, yes,” Sirius drawled, tossing his magazine aside. “The ever-dedicated boyfriend service strikes again.”

“Not her boyfriend,” Remus muttered, shoving his arms into his jacket.

“Yeah, yeah, tell that to literally anyone else,” James said, pushing himself up onto his elbows. “So, remind me—who always goes to pick her up when she’s drunk?”

“That’s just being a good friend,” Remus countered, shoving his feet into his trainers.

“Oh, absolutely,” Sirius said. “And who, without fail, delivers her coffee every morning like a personal barista?”

Remus sighed. “She’s incapable of making coffee without nearly setting something on fire.”

James grinned, stretching like a cat. “Right. And who, without hesitation, gives up his hoodie the second she even looks like she might be cold?”

“That’s—” Remus paused, narrowing his eyes. “That’s what friends do.”

“Sure,” Sirius said, nodding sagely. “And I suppose all of this is entirely platonic? Completely devoid of any feelings whatsoever?”

Remus grabbed his keys. “That’s exactly right.”

James sat up properly, grinning in that insufferable way he did when he knew he was right about something. “Mate, if you were any further in denial, you’d be living in Egypt.”

Sirius gasped dramatically. “Prongs, that was actually a good one. I’m proud.”

“Thank you, thank you,” James said, bowing from his position on the floor.

Remus rolled his eyes, flipping them both off as he headed for the door. “Mock all you want, but I’d rather she get home safe than let her stumble into some dodgy cab with a questionable driver.”

James clutched his chest. “He’s so noble.”

Sirius sniffled. “It’s beautiful, really.”

Remus slammed the door behind him.

Sirius turned to James. “He’s in love with her.”

James nodded. “Hopelessly.”

Sirius stretched, settling back in his chair. “D’you reckon he’ll figure it out before she does?”

James snorted. “Not a chance.”

.・。.・゜✭・.

The pub was packed, bodies spilling out onto the pavement, the sound of laughter and bad karaoke carrying over the buzz of traffic. Remus parked as close as he could without the risk of getting towed and sighed, already bracing himself for whatever chaos awaited him inside.

Finding them wasn’t hard.

Marlene was standing on top of a booth, arms spread like she was about to deliver a sermon, while Lily and Mary cheered her on. You sat curled up in the corner of the booth, head resting against Lily’s shoulder, scrolling absentmindedly on your phone.

You looked up at him as he apprached and grinned. “Oh, our knight in shining armour has arrived.”

Marlene gasped, almost toppling from the booth. “A knight! Have you come to sweep me off my feet, good sir?”

Remus sighed. “I have come to take you all home before you get banned from yet another pub.”

Mary scoffed, throwing an arm around Marlene’s legs to keep her steady. “First of all, that bouncer deserved to be told off. Second, we weren’t banned, we just aren’t welcome back for a while.”

“Tomato, tomahto,” Lily muttered, rubbing at her temples.

Remus rubbed a hand down his face. “Alright, everyone up. Let’s go.”

It took ten more minutes, one near fistfight (Marlene again), and a lot of herding, but eventually, everyone was packed into his car.

And then the real trouble started.

Marlene took it upon herself to be the DJ, insisting on playing the most dramatic breakup songs she could find, which led to Lily passionately singing along despite not being in any kind of breakup.

Mary, sitting in the front seat, took it upon herself to be the in-car commentator.

“She’s feeling this one, Remus. Look at her. That’s a woman in pain.”

“I’M IN LOVE WITH YOUUUUU,” Lily belted, clutching your arm like she was singing to her lost love.

Remus sighed. “Lily, you’ve been dating James for three years.”

“She’s just being supportive,” you giggled, head lolling against the window.

Mary sighed wistfully. “Women supporting women.”

Lily turned to Marlene and pointed. “Play Driver’s License next.”

“No,” Remus said immediately.

You laughed, head tipping back against the seat. “You’re such a buzzkill, Moony.”

“Yeah?” Remus glanced at you in the rearview mirror. “And yet I’m still the one you lot call when you need a ride home. You know, Lily could ask James once in a while.”

“We’d be safer driving drunk than with James behind the wheel. Also, we love you,” Marlene declared, dramatically reaching forward to pat his head, missing entirely and smacking the side of his face instead.

“Brilliant. Thank you for that.”

Marlene just grinned, utterly unrepentant.

One by one, he dropped them off. Marlene first, then Mary, then Lily, who made him promise to tell James she loved him before dramatically throwing herself out of the car.

Finally, it was just him and you.

The silence, after all the chaos and the near accident that was you climbing over the console and into the passenger seat, was almost jarring.

He glanced at you as he pulled onto your street. You were watching the streetlights blur past, face lit up soft and golden, that faraway look in your eyes that told him you weren’t ready for the night to be over yet.

Turning to him, your lips slightly parted as if you were debating saying something.

Finally, you sighed. “I don’t really feel like being alone yet. Or going to bed.”

Remus didn’t even hesitate. Without a word, he turned the wheel and made a left instead of a right, turning back onto the main street to drive to his own flat.

“Little warning, Sirius and James are there,” he said.

You grinned. “You don’t think they’ll be mad about you bringing home a stray?”

“First of all, you’re hardly a stray,” he said dryly. “Second, if you bring food, they won’t care.”

Gasping dramatically, you leaned over to him. “Remus John Lupin, are you suggesting we stop for snacks?”

“I’m suggesting you stop for snacks, since you’re the one who always convinces me to do this.”

You beamed, triumphant. “McDonald’s.”

“You just at least a bottle of wine and probably a lot of questionable cocktails, and you want chicken nuggets?”

A offended hand found it’s place over your heart. “Do not speak ill of the nugget.”

Remus huffed a laugh. “Fine. Nuggets it is.”

He pulled into the drive-thru, you practically bouncing in your seat as you rolled the window down before he even stopped.

“Hi! Can we please get a twenty-piece nugget?”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Just twenty?”

You turned, eyes wide with betrayal. “I don’t need your judgement right now, Remus.”

He snorted. “Make it forty,” he told the drive-thru speaker.

The poor teenager working the late-night shift barely sounded fazed. “Sauce?”

“All of them,” you declared. “And also add two large fries, please.”

By the time you pulled up to his flat, you had already broken into the bag, happily munching away on soggy french-fries.

Sirius and James were waiting when you walked in, both looking up from the couch with matching grins.

“You brought food,” James said, delighted.

Sirius held out his hands. “Come to me, my sweet, greasy love.”

You smirked, holding the bag just out of reach. “Hmm. I don’t know. Remus drove. Maybe he should get first pick.”

Sirius turned on Remus immediately. “I always knew you were her favourite.”

Remus sighed. “It’s too late for this.”

“Wrong,” Sirius said, digging into the bag. “It’s the perfect time for this.”

Curling up on the couch next to Remus, you cradled a nugget in one hand, the other wrapped around his arm as you settled in.

And honestly? He didn’t mind.

.・。.・゜✭・.

Sirius and James left sometime around three in the morning, after Sirius nearly fell asleep mid-sentence and James started talking about how he could "definitely beat a bear in a fight" if he "had a solid plan and at least three days of preparation." Remus shoved them both toward the door with a tired sigh, making sure James had his shoes on the right feet and that Sirius actually took his keys with him.

Now, it was just the two of you.

You were slumped on the couch, a half-eaten nugget still clutched in your hand, your head lolling against the back cushion. Your eyes fluttered open when Remus sat down next to you.

He nudged your knee. "C'mon, let's get you to bed before you fall asleep with that thing in your hand."

You blinked down at the nugget. "I wasn’t finished with it."

Remus plucked it from your fingers and set it in the box before pulling you to your feet. "You can finish it in the morning."

Your legs wobbled, and before he could even react, you tripped over your own feet and practically collapsed against his chest.

"Alright, that’s enough of that," he muttered, hooking an arm around your waist and steering you toward his bedroom. "You’re a hazard."

You giggled sleepily, resting most of your weight against him. "You take such good care of me, Moony."

"Someone has to," he said, half-carrying you down the hallway.

The second you saw his bed, you practically melted. You fell face-first onto the mattress with a happy sigh, kicking off your shoes but making no move to change out of your going out clothes.

Remus sighed. "You need to change."

"Mmm, don’t wanna."

"Yeah? Well, you can’t sleep in a sequin skirt."

You groaned dramatically into the pillow. "Ugh, fine. But you have to help me."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "You’re really making me do this, huh?"

You peeked up at him, smiling innocently. "Please?"

With a long-suffering sigh, he moved to his dresser, opening the bottom drawer—your drawer.

That realization hit him like a brick to the chest.

He had an entire drawer of your clothes at his flat.

T-shirts, sweaters, pajama shorts—hell, even a pair of fuzzy socks you always insisted were "the superior socks."

And somehow, he had never really thought about it. Never thought about how that probably wasn’t a normal friend thing.

Shaking the thought away, he grabbed one of his old sweaters you had claimed as your own and a pair of soft shorts before turning back to you. "Alright, sit up."

You did so, though sluggishly, letting him pull your shirt over your head. He didn’t let himself linger, keeping his movements brisk as he slipped the sweater over you. The skirt came next, and he averted his eyes as he guided the shorts up your legs.

When you were finally dressed in sleep appropriate clothes, you flopped back onto the bed, snuggling into the pillow with a sleepy hum. "So comfy."

Remus huffed a laugh, pulling the blanket over you. "Yeah, yeah."

You cracked an eye open. "Aren’t you getting in?"

He hesitated. Maybe he had let James and Sirius get into his head after all. Since when did he care about sleeping next to you? "I was gonna sleep on the couch."

You frowned, reaching out to grab his wrist. "Remus, if you think I’m letting you sleep on that lumpy couch just because I took your bed, you’re dead wrong. Get in."

It wasn’t like he hadn’t slept beside you before. It had happened plenty of times—movie nights, late-night study sessions that ended in accidental naps.

So he sighed and gave in, sliding under the covers beside you.

The second he settled, you curled into his side, throwing an arm around his middle and burying your face against his chest.

And that—that wasn’t something friends did.

Remus swallowed, heart hammering just a little too hard as he let himself relax against you.

"Night, Moony," you mumbled sleepily.

He closed his eyes.

"Night, love."

.・。.・゜✭・.

“This is agony. Pure, unfiltered agony.”

Sirius was sprawled across the couch like a Victorian child on his deathbed, his injured hand held aloft as if it were something far more grievous than a tiny splinter in his palm.

"You’ll live," you muttered, perched on the armrest, tweezers in hand. "Hold still."

"Hold still, she says. As if she isn’t actively torturing me."

"You are so dramatic," Remus said, not looking up from his book.

James, lounging on the floor again, smirked. "I dunno, Moony. Looks pretty serious. Might have to amputate."

Sirius gasped. "Not helping, Prongs!"

You sighed, brushing your hair back as you leaned in, squinting at the tiny sliver of wood embedded in his skin.

It fell right back into your face.

You huffed in frustration, pushing it back again, only for it to slip forward once more.

Remus reached out without even looking up from his book, gathering your hair in one hand and twisting it into a ponytail with an ease that could only come from far too much practice.

He secured it with the hair tie you always kept around your wrist, giving it a gentle tug to make sure it held.

"Better?" he asked absently.

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard before nodding. "Uh, yeah. Thanks."

Remus hummed in response, eyes still scanning the page in front of him.

It took him exactly three more seconds to realize the room had gone dead silent. He looked up.

James and Sirius were already smirking, which was expected but never a good sign.

What was not expected was the rest of the room.

Lily, Marlene, Mary, and Mary all sat watching him with varying degrees of amusement and satisfaction, as if he had just proven some long-running theory correct.

Mary, taking a slow sip from her drink, arched an eyebrow. "That was interesting."

Marlene snorted. "Oh, so interesting."

Lily and Mary exchanged looks, trying — and failing — to suppress their grins.

Remus frowned. "What?"

James sighed dramatically, shaking his head. "Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless."

Remus turned to you for support, but you were just staring at him, expression unreadable.

"Can I just say," Sirius said, voice far too pleased, "watching you do that was infuriatingly domestic."

Remus felt a warmth creep up the back of his neck. "What? It’s not weird. I’ve done it before."

"Exactly," Lily said, eyes twinkling.

Remus opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Because, well.

They weren’t wrong.

And that was a problem.

Because if everyone else could see it—if it was that obvious—then maybe, he wasn’t as subtle as he thought.

And maybe, just maybe…

He wasn’t as platonic as he thought, either.

.・。.・゜✭・.

Later that night, the group spilled out onto the pavement, shoving and laughing as they made their way toward Remus’ car. The plan was simple: pub, drinks, and probably more poor decisions than anyone was willing to acknowledge.

The second they stepped outside, Sirius bolted for the passenger seat.

He didn’t make it.

Just as he reached for the door handle, Remus grabbed the back of his jacket, yanking him to a halt with practiced ease.

"Oi!" Sirius squawked, flailing as he stumbled back. "What the hell, Moony?"

Remus didn’t answer. He just reached past him, pulled the door open, and—without even looking—gestured for you to get in.

You grinned, sending Sirius a smug look as you slid into your usual spot.

Sirius threw his hands in the air. "This is blatant favoritism!"

"Yeah, and?" Remus said flatly, shutting the door behind you.

Sirius turned to the group for backup, waving a dramatic hand at the car. "Do you see this? She always gets to ride shotgun! It’s never my turn!"

"You’re not wrong," Marlene mused, crossing her arms.

James snorted. "Yeah, but it’s also never going to be your turn, mate."

Sirius gasped, clutching his chest like he’d been personally betrayed. "Et tu, Prongs?"

"Look, Pads," Lily said, biting back a laugh. "You can either sit in the back like a good boy or walk to the pub yourself."

Sirius whirled back to Remus. "This is so unfair. I called it!"

"You ran for it," Remus corrected, shoving his hands into his pockets. "And that’s where you went wrong."

Dorcas smirked. "You should know by now, Black—calling it doesn’t matter."

Sirius huffed, eyes narrowing. "You all suck."

"Cool," Mary said. "Get in the car."

With much grumbling, and one final glare in your direction, Sirius finally relented, dramatically throwing himself into the backseat.

As Remus slid into the driver’s seat, you shot him a look. "That was a little mean."

He just shrugged. "He’ll live."

From the back, Sirius groaned. "I won’t live. I’ll never recover from this injustice."

James clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Tough break, mate."

.・。.・゜✭・.

The pub was packed as usual, the dim lighting and rowdy chatter filling the air with a familiar buzz. Remus had already claimed his usual spot at the table, perched in the corner with Sirius and James, both of them in their own little world, arguing over something Remus was sure related to sports. You had, of course, wandered up to the bar to order the next round for everyone.

Remus watched you from across the room, the way your head tipped back in a laugh, your eyes catching the light as you exchanged words with the bartender. His gaze was a little more than casual, his thoughts drifting in a comfortable haze. He always liked watching you, particularly when you were in your element, laughing, talking, just being... well, you.

But then, his attention snapped to focus when he saw a man sidling up to you, too close for comfort. The guy was grinning like he’d just hit the jackpot, his breath a little too close to your ear as he leaned in, probably to say something that was meant to be flirtatious but came off as a bit off.

Remus’ muscles tensed immediately.

You shifted uncomfortably, visibly inching away from the man, but he didn’t seem to get the hint. Your polite smile was beginning to falter, a hint of unease flickering in your eyes. That was all Remus needed to see. Without another thought, he pushed himself out of his chair and made his way over to you.

He wasn’t sure what exactly made him move so quickly—maybe it was the protective instinct kicking in, or maybe it was the fact that the guy was making you uncomfortable, and that was something he wouldn’t stand for.

As he approached, the man didn’t even notice Remus’ presence until he was right there, standing between you two. Remus didn’t say a word at first, but he subtly placed a hand on the counter next to you, creating a barrier between you and the man. The guy glanced at him, then looked back at you, confusion in his eyes as if he couldn’t figure out what just happened.

“I think she’s had enough of your company,” Remus said, his tone easy but firm, the kind that brooked no argument.

You blinked at him, a little surprised, but relieved. "Oh, hey, Remus."

The guy let out a quiet huff, clearly not pleased with being interrupted, but Remus didn’t care. He didn’t even look at the man, instead keeping his focus on you. "You good?"

You gave him a grateful smile, though there was still a trace of tension in your shoulders. "Yeah, I was just trying to get the drinks sorted, but…" You trailed off with a small sigh. "Some people don’t take the hint."

Remus nodded, his expression softening as he gave you a quick once-over to make sure you were really alright. His hand on the bar tightened for a second before he stepped back, allowing the man to sulk off into the crowd, clearly outmatched.

As the guy retreated, Remus turned to you, eyebrow raised, as if to say Well?

You exhaled slowly, letting the tension roll off your shoulders. "I think I’m fine now. Thanks." Your smile was genuine, though a little shy.

“No problem,” he said with a small nod. “You’re always welcome to call on me for a rescue mission.”

Your grin widened. "I’ll keep that in mind."

A few steps behind, Sirius and James had been watching the entire exchange, both of them wearing identical, knowing smirks.

Sirius leaned toward James, his voice just loud enough for Remus to hear as he returned to the table, carrying the tray of drinks you had ordered. “There it is.”

James, his gaze lingering on Remus, nodded with a grin. “Yeah, he just can’t help himself.”

Sirius leaned back in his chair, his grin only widening as he shot Remus a look.

Remus didn’t bother to engage. He just shook his head, taking a swig from his new drink, trying to ignore the persistent smirks from his friends. The truth was, he didn’t really care. You were safe, and that was all that mattered.

You took a sip of your drink, then shot a look toward Sirius and James. "You guys are awful."

James held his hands up in mock defense. "We’re just here to witness greatness. You know, like when someone becomes a knight in shining armor."

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Please. I don’t need you two bringing it up all night.”

Sirius pouted. "Ah, come on, it’s cute."

Remus, from across the table, rolled his eyes. He was alright with them mocking him all they want, but he didn’t want you to have to endure it as well. "Can you let it go?”

The two of them just grinned at each other knowingly.

But Remus couldn’t help the way his chest felt just a little warmer as he glanced at you, still sipping your drink and trying to ignore the teasing from his friends.

He’d protect you, of course. That was easy. What he hadn’t anticipated was how much more complicated this was becoming.

.・。.・゜✭・.

It was one of those rare, easy afternoons when the group of friends were all gathered at Sirius' place, the kind of lazy Saturday that was long overdue. James and Sirius were already in the middle of a heated round of Just Dance, their movements wildly exaggerated and completely offbeat. You and Remus were seated on the couch, taking the position of amused spectators.

“Come on, Moony, you’re next,” Sirius called over his shoulder, grinning as he wiped sweat off his brow after a particularly dramatic move.

Remus shook his head, arms folded across his chest. “No chance. I have no desire to make a fool of myself in front of all of you.”

You snorted. “As if you don’t already do that on a daily basis.”

“Oi, that’s a low blow,” Remus shot back, raising an eyebrow. “You sure you want to go there?”

“I’m just stating facts,” you quipped, grinning as you gave him a teasing look.

“You’re just mad I’m better at trivia than you,” Remus smirked, leaning back into the cushions.

“Please,” you scoffed. “You only win because I let you. This is the same reason you won’t play Just Dance—it’s all about your fragile ego, isn’t it?”

“Oh, we’re bringing up ego now, are we?” Remus shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Let me guess, you’re some sort of dancing queen, huh?”

“I’d wipe the floor with you,” you said, giving him a playful side-eye.

Sirius, overhearing the conversation, turned to James, who was still trying to keep up with the overly energetic moves on the screen. “I’m pretty sure Remus is just scared he’ll lose to you. He knows he’s got no rhythm.”

“Rhythm?” Remus raised an eyebrow. “You’re calling me out for not having rhythm? Have you seen you two dance? It’s like watching a pair of drunk flamingos try to navigate a minefield.”

James laughed, not missing a beat. “Hey, at least we’re trying! You’re over here acting like you’re too good for it. You’ve got no excuse, mate.”

“Fine,” Remus grumbled, tossing his book aside. “But if I embarrass myself, I’m blaming all of you.”

You threw your hands up in mock surrender. “We’ll take full responsibility for your impending humiliation.”

As the game began, you danced with all the enthusiasm you could muster, putting on a surprisingly good show. Remus, reluctantly, followed suit, stepping into the designated space with all the grace of a confused moose. It didn’t take long before Sirius was practically throwing himself into the performance, determined to win.

Then it was your turn again, and Sirius was having none of it. His moves were exaggerated, clearly intended to throw you off, and, with a dramatic flourish, he ended up winning the round. He let out a victorious whoop, grinning widely.

“Take that!” Sirius laughed, pumping his fist into the air. “Who’s the champion now?”

You shot him a mock glare, shaking your head. “You’ve had your fun. Enjoy it while it lasts, Pads.”

“Well, I won’t say no to some well-deserved praise,” Sirius smirked, and before you could protest, he added, “You know, maybe you should just give up now. We all know you don’t have the skills to beat me.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Remus said, his voice calm but firm. “Don’t push it, Pads.”

Sirius looked at him, blinking in surprise. “What, you’re going to defend her now?” he teased, but Remus didn’t bite.

“No, I’m just saying—stop,” Remus said, his tone low, eyes flicking between Sirius and you. “Only I get to make fun of her. Got it?”

The room went silent for a moment. Sirius stared at him, a slight frown on his face, as though weighing his words carefully. Then, in a move that surprised everyone—including Remus—Sirius stood up and clapped his hands together.

“Right. I’ve had enough of this,” he said, his voice suddenly serious. “You two are so obviously hopeless that I can’t even look at you without wanting to throw something.”

Before anyone could react, Sirius grabbed Remus by the arm and pulled him toward the hallway.

“What the hell—” Remus protested, though his voice was more confused than angry.

“Nope. Not happening,” Sirius said with a grin. “James! Get in here! I need backup!”

James, who had been leaning against the wall with an amused grin, snapped to attention at the command. “On it!” He quickly moved toward you, grabbing you with surprising gentleness. “Time for an intervention.”

You blinked, caught completely off guard. “Wait, what are you—?”

Before you could finish the sentence, both James and Sirius had shoved you and Remus into the bathroom and locked the door behind you.

“Oi!” you shouted, banging on the door. “What’s going on?!”

From the other side, you heard Sirius’ voice, full of exasperation. “We’re not letting you two out until you finally figure it out. You’re both being ridiculous.”

“You can’t be serious,” Remus called back, his tone slightly panicked. “Let us out!”

“Not until you two finally get over yourselves and make out,” James yelled from the hallway.

You blinked at Remus, utterly speechless. “They can’t be serious… right?”

Remus let out a groan of frustration, running a hand through his hair. “Unfortunately, I think they are.”

You gave him a sheepish smile. “Well… seems like we’re stuck here until they get bored.”

His eyes softened slightly as he looked at you. “Yeah, guess so.”

The two of you stood there for a few moments in the tiny bathroom, the silence hanging between you. Outside the door, you could hear Sirius and James laughing, clearly enjoying the chaos they’d caused, but you and Remus were left in an awkward limbo.

“So,” you started, trying to break the tension, “what exactly is going on here? What are they on about?”

Remus sighed, leaning back against the sink. He seemed hesitant, like he wasn’t sure how to even begin explaining, but eventually, he rubbed the back of his neck. “You know how they always tease me about… well, us?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, but that’s nothing new. They tease you about everything.”

“True,” he muttered, looking uncomfortable. “But lately, they’ve been—well, they’ve been noticing... things. Little things, I guess.” His eyes flicked to yours, then away. “Like the way I treat you... and the way you treat me.”

You blinked, confused. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well,” he started slowly, clearly unsure of how to phrase it, “Sirius and James—they’ve noticed that I do... well, things for you. Like... I look out for you a lot more than I do anyone else. And you do the same for me. They started calling it... ‘boyfriend services,’ I guess.” He winced at the words as though they left a bad taste in his mouth.

“Boyfriend services?” you repeated, trying not to laugh. “And what exactly does that entail?”

Remus ran a hand through his hair again, clearly uncomfortable. “You know... like when I make sure you get home safe, or how I always make sure you have something to drink, or how I keep an eye out for you when we’re out and about. And you, well… you do similar things for me. It’s like… I don’t know. They see it as us giving each other the ‘girlfriend and boyfriend treatment,’ except, neither of us is actually calling it anything.”

You stood there, processing this for a moment. “Wait… so you’re telling me we’re both just doing these things for each other because we’re, what, friends? Or is there more to it than that?”

“Well, it’s kind of funny,” you said with a small, teasing smile. “All this time, I’ve been wondering when you were going to finally ask me out, and here we are, locked in a bathroom with your friends demanding we ‘make out’ because we’re already acting like a couple.”

Remus blinked, looking at you like you’d just said something utterly absurd. “Wait… you—you were waiting for me to ask you out?”

“Yeah, well,” you shrugged, a little sheepish now, “I thought it was pretty obvious.”

Remus’s face turned a shade darker, and for a moment, he seemed speechless, as if the world had suddenly spun out of his control. “You… you’d actually be okay with that? With me? With—” He faltered, his voice cracking slightly. “I mean, I don’t want to make things awkward, or—”

You held up a hand, cutting him off. “Remus,” you said, your voice soft but sure. “It’s only awkward because we’re making it awkward. I wouldn’t mind the girlfriend title at all.”

The words hung in the air, a heavy silence between you two as you watched his face shift from stunned confusion to something much softer, something vulnerable. His lips parted as if he had more to say, but nothing came out. For a long moment, neither of you spoke.

Finally, he let out a breath and stepped closer, his hand tentatively reaching for yours. “You really mean that?”

You nodded, your heart beating faster now. “Yeah. I do.”

Remus smiled, but it wasn’t the usual cheeky grin you were used to. It was different, softer—like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “Well… I guess that makes two of us then.”

Before you could respond, there was a sudden banging on the door.

“Oi!” Sirius shouted from the other side. “Enough of this sappy stuff! We’ve had enough of the ‘will-they-won’t-they’. Kiss already!”

You shot a look at Remus, who was clearly trying to hide his smirk behind a hand. “I think they’re getting impatient,” you said with a dry laugh.

Remus just shook his head. “Those two are insufferable.”

With that, he leaned in, slowly, his breath warm on your face. His hand gently cupped your cheek, and for a split second, it felt like the world had come to a halt. Then, with a soft, tentative smile, he kissed you.

The kiss was gentle, hesitant at first, as if both of you were testing the waters. But the longer it lasted, the more natural it felt, until the world outside of the bathroom ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, finally figuring things out.

And, of course, the moment was interrupted by loud knocking and shouts of “We can’t hear you over here, make it louder!” from Sirius.

Remus groaned into the kiss, pulling away for a brief moment, his forehead resting against yours. “I swear, when I get out of here, I’m going to kill them.”

You chuckled softly, your fingers still resting lightly on his chest. “You’ll have time for that later,” you teased, a playful grin tugging at the corners of your mouth as you leaned in to kiss him again.

His lips quirked into a smile before he kissed you back, his grip tightening around your waist.

The loud thuds from outside the bathroom door grew more frantic, with Sirius's voice ringing through the wood, “Oi! We’re not letting you out until we hear more action in there, Moony!”

You pulled away from Remus, shaking your head with a laugh. “They’re relentless.”

Remus grinned, his eyes gleaming with a mix of affection and exasperation. “You have no idea.”

“Remus,” you said, your tone teasing as you stepped back just slightly, “I think they’re enjoying this a bit too much.”

He sighed dramatically, his hand still resting on your waist as he glanced toward the door. “If I wasn’t so in love with you right now, I’d be plotting my revenge on them. This is absolutely ridiculous.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, a soft sound that made his heart skip a beat. “Well, looks like you’re stuck with me for now, love,” you said, your voice low and playful. “And, as much as I’d like to torture them, I’m pretty sure they’ll never let us out unless we give them exactly what they want.”

Remus gave you a look, his eyes narrowing in mock suspicion. “Are you trying to say that we’re going to have to... satisfy them?”

“Hmm,” you hummed, pretending to consider the suggestion.

Remus smiled at you, the tension that had been building up between you two melting away into something simpler, sweeter. “You know, I think I can handle that.”

Masterlist

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[yukioos]

Your writing is so good im eating up every little bit hsesuritvjhb

can I request a Katsuki x windquirk!reader? Hes tired and sweaty after training and comes into readers dorm to cool off with cuddles cuz shes basically a human fan thank you!

katsuki bakugo who relies on you to cool him off

treat it like it's the real thing. katsuki was always told that ever since he was a little boy. when he had to practice for sports events, his parents always advised him to play like he was really in the game. when he studied and did quizzes in school, he did his best to get all of them right. this wasn’t any different from training.

he always tried his hardest, and especially harder when he was against eijiro, who he considered to be one of the strongest in the class. while training, he and eijiro were one of the pairs that were the most entertaining to watch. it always ended in both of them being covered in sweat and many scratches, bruises, and cuts.

this time, after a couple of rounds of trying to push each other out of a large boxed arena, katsuki finally won. eijiro applauded him and placed a hand on his sweat-soaked shoulder, making him immediately pull his hand back.

“thanks for training with me, bakugo!” eijiro thanked, showing off his shiny, sharp teeth with a wide grin.

the blonde rolled his eyes and attempted to hold back a smile, “yeah, whatever.” he paused, then thought for a moment. damn, he needed to see you, he was soaked in sweat and felt like the sun was burning him a hundred times over. he looked at the ground, and his lip turned into a shy smile.

a knowing grin stretched across eijiro’s face, he tilted his head and crossed his arms. he knew that look. “thinking about your girl again?”

katsuki’s eyes widened, then quickly glared at his friend. when would he stop with all this teasing? before he opened his mouth, eijiro suggested, “i know you need her to cool you off, just go to her.”

the blonde rolled his eyes, he knew his friend was right. he gave him a small wave and jogged to your dorm, still panting on his way there. god, he was feeling too hot. too overwhelmed. how long has it been since he’s seen you last? two hours? that was clearly too long of a break, and he just wanted to be held in your arms again.

your door opened in the middle of nowhere, causing you to quickly and anxiously turn your head. the wind in your room was strong as papers and books began to fly all over the room. a heavy schoolbook quickly flew to the doorframe, but your boyfriend caught it, then shielded his eyes from the heavy wind.

once you realized it was him, you smiled and kicked your feet. as the wind began to become less intense, your hair spiked up, a sign that meant you were feeling extreme emotions. the blonde stood in the doorway before he walked in, quietly closed the door, made a short trip to your desk to place your schoolbook down, and then stripped himself of his black tank top.

“come here, kats!” you exclaimed, laying on your bed, back to your sheets as you held your arms out.

he didn’t say anything but quickly climbed into your bed, and wrapped his arms around your waist. a deep sigh came from his chest, and he immediately felt a wave of relief and coldness. you used your quirk to cool him off, and rubbed your hands against his bare back, making him feel more comfortable than ever.

katsuki kissed your neck and closed his eyes, not saying a single word. he must’ve been extremely tired if he didn’t have any complaints about training or anything to brag about.

but as soon as you were about to open your mouth, you noticed his breathing was even. all the sweat droplets on his body were gone, and his eyes were closed. it wasn’t too common for him to pass out immediately after training, but maybe he was especially emotional today.

he didn’t tell you that he fell asleep around you so easily because he felt safe around you. the way you were always so caring and excited to simply cool him down warmed his heart every time. he loved how as soon as you saw the slightest sign that he may have been overheated, you would place a hand on his bicep or forehead to cool him down.

not long after katsuki fell asleep, you also drifted into slumber, holding his cool body in your arms.

tysm for 900 followers! you guys are so amazing, and thank you for this request! it’s absolutely adorable, and i’m so thankful you love my writing!