#wishing them smiles and happiness forever and ever

[azrielsdove]

Fated Souls

Warnings: Angst, Light Smut, 18+

***

You observed the celebration around you, watching your friends as they interacted with one another. You brought your wine glass to your lips, taking another slow sip. You had chosen to stick to the edges of the room for this gathering. It was easier that way. You didn’t have to pretend that your heart wasn’t being tortured with every beat it made.

Truthfully, you’d lost count of what glass of wine this was. You enjoyed the way the edges of the room blurred the more you drank, allowing you to pretend it’s all a horrid nightmare instead of your devastating reality.

Until your eyes caught upon them once again. You scowled, tipping your head back as you emptied your drink. Your eyes narrowed as you watched him smile down at her, his hand itching to hold onto her waist. She looked at him with such adoration that you’d have to be brainless to miss it. Everyone knew about the Shadowsinger and middle Archeron sister. You could argue that they turned a blind eye because they wished to see the pair happy, if it weren’t for the fact that their mates were just as widely known.

You rolled your eyes as she let out a soft laugh, placing a hand on the chest of the male that was supposed to be fated to you. Not that he cared. You were tired of this, the constant pining for someone who would never want you. Growing sick of their love-show, you slipped quietly from the room. No one noticed, or if they did they didn’t care. You had become quite a depressing specimen since Elain entered your life.

And since the mating bond snapped to Azriel, who only had eyes for her. Your friends did not know how to speak to you these days, always teetering in awkward conversation. They looked at you as if they stared too close you’d shatter into a thousand pieces. You were fragile, breakable.

It wasn’t always that way. Before this you were one of the fiercest warriors the Night Court had. You held your own against Cassian, earning a place of honor as his right hand. You were a force to be reckoned with. “The Lovely Demon” they called you, whispers of your power and beauty flitting throughout all of Prythian. It made sense for you to be fated to Azriel, the devilishly handsome spymaster. Together you were a death sentence.

A death sentence indeed. You moved throughout the halls, searching for the only one who understood your pain. You were pleased when you found him alone on one of the countless balconies in the House of Wind, leaning over the railing with his own drink in hand. You walked out to him, your heels clicking softy on the stone. He did not turn to look at you, even when you leaned on the railing next to him.

“Beautiful night,” he spoke first, looking intently at the stars. You followed his line of sight, humming in response. Nothing was beautiful to you now.

The two of you stood like that for some time, in an understanding silence. The silver fabric of your dress glowed under the starlight, a sight that would have filled you with confidence before. Now you hardly even noticed.

“Were they…” he began, trailing off. The words were too hard to be spoken aloud, but you knew what he meant. Were they all over each other again? You nodded, noting the way he slung his whiskey back at the action. “Do you think it will ever hurt less?”

Did you? You couldn’t imagine a world in which it didn’t, but surely it wouldn’t be this way forever. You turned to look at him then, taking in the defeated form of the once strong man you knew.

Lucien had been through a lot in the last five centuries. Hel, you all had. No one was the same as they once were. But your friend had suffered more than most, and yet his suffering was brushed under the rug by the Inner Circle. You loved them dearly, yes, yet they oftentimes only focused on themselves. In all honesty you had been the same way before. All that mattered was that you and your family were happy. Others problems could come later.

Once the bond snapped and Azriel chose to ignore it, things changed. You quickly discovered that he meant more to them than you did. Not that they didn’t try to help you, of course. Mor spent many a night lying in your bed with you, holding you tight while tears ran down your face. Nesta brought you books, the closest to acknowledging the messed up way Azriel was acting. But in the end, his feelings would always win. His happiness was more important than yours.

“I can only hope it does,” you finally answered. He finally turned to face you as well, the pain in his eyes like looking in a mirror.

“How do we cope?”

You shook your head, a sad smile playing on your lips. “When you find out, please let me know.”

You stared at each other for a long moment. Perhaps it was the copious amount of alcohol you had ingested, or perhaps it was the deep sadness controlling your heart, but you couldn’t help to notice how stunning Lucien was. Even in his pain drenched form he radiated a sense of power and confidence not many others could. You simply could not wrap your head around Elains distaste for him. You understood she had her own traumas to work through, but she could do worse. You knew Lucien would be kind to her.

Unfortunately she wanted your mate instead. The thought sends a wave of nausea through your body. Lucien noticed the subtle change in your already heartbroken demeanor, reaching his hand out to yours. You gladly held on to him, tears brimming in your eyes. “It’s not fair,” you whispered, the pain building up inside of you. He shook his head, pulling you close to him. He wrapped his arm tight around your waist, the hand on his other one tangling into your hair. You rested your face on the crook of his neck as gasping sobs tore through your very soul. Your nails dug into his shirt, holding onto him as if you were desperately searching for something to ground you. Something to remind you that life still existed, and it wasn’t just you lost in the tumultuous sea of your grief.

Your heart was falling apart. You knew you were not only going to lose Azriel if this continued. If he did fully choose Elain, and she him, your life would be over. Your family would gladly welcome them as one, celebrating their love and joy. You wouldn’t be able to live as you once did. You would flee the Night Court entirely, possibly leaving a note for Rhysand. You couldn’t be sure if he would even notice your absence in the wake of joy for his brother. Though could you blame him? Your soul sang for Azriel’s happiness. It was tearing you apart that it wasn’t with you.

You clung tighter to Lucien, hands shaking. His fingers were tracing patterns in your hair, trying to soothe your fractured mind. “He doesn’t deserve you,” he murmured. His words gave you pause, pulling your face off his shoulder to look up at him. His eyes were glassy, the tears he held refusing to be shed.

“What?” You asked, your voice weak. Lucien looked intently at you, moving his hand to cup your face. His thumb brushed away your tears, a deep sorrow in his eyes.

“It is wrong of him to allow you to be in pain as such. Elain, I give her more grace than most would. But Azriel?” He spoke the shadowsingers name as if it were a curse. “He has no excuse. You have been together centuries now, close as two can be. It should have been an instant joy, the mating bond between you. And yet,” he sighs deeply, thumb tracing your skin once more. “He’s gotten it into his head that he has to be with an Archeron like his brothers.” Your heart stutters as his thumb traces your bottom lip, a fire beginning to rage in his eyes. “He’s taken it upon himself to steal away my mate, while ignoring his own. A sorry thing, too, when she is as lovely as the night she so graciously represents.” His hand slides down to trace your jawline, fire burning your skin wherever he touched. This was wrong. You were both heartbroken, tossed aside by your mates. Friends, yes, but lovers? No. You should pull away, stop this before it goes too far. This was wr-

Oh.

Your head tilted back and your mouth opened slightly as Lucien’s lips met your neck. He kissed your skin like it was his honor to do so, like he would never get the chance again. His lips traveled up to your jaw, kissing slowly across your cheek. You couldn’t breathe as your eyes fluttered closed, lips ready for his.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered against your skin, nose brushing yours. You knew you should. If you allowed him to kiss you fully you would be fully admitting that Azriel was a lost hope and dream. Allowing another male to touch you in a way only your mate should.

Did it matter when that mate was too busy catching the attention of someone who wasn’t you? When all he wanted was her pretty little mouth on his? What is the harm in you finding what pleasure you could in the wake of the pain he had bestowed upon your very being?

“Kiss me.”

Lucien’s lips met yours with a fervor, an intensity you didn’t know you craved. Arousal began to spread through your body, a need for him that overtook all other thought. You pulled him closer, allowing him to cage you in against the balcony railing. You welcomed his tongue into your mouth, moaning quietly at the taste of him. His hands fell to your waist, one fisting the fabric as his restraint was rapidly fading. “He’s a fool for letting you go,” he said into your mouth, a shiver of delight running down your spine at his words.

“So is she.” His eyes flared and he kissed you again, his hand slowly working your dress up. You gasped as the cool night air danced across your heated skin. You knew you shouldn’t be doing this at all, much less right where anyone could see. The thought of someone catching you made your heart race with scandalous excitement. Not that anyone would have even noticed the two of you were gone.

Lucien’s hand flattened against your bare thigh, having pulled your dress high enough to expose the skin there. You felt alive under his touch, like you were finally being seen. You kissed him as if he were the sun and you were lost in an endless night. His fingers trailed to the inside of your thigh, a hum of surprise coming from him when he discovered you wore nothing under your gown. He found you quickly, pressing gently down on your clit. You gasped into his mouth, arching against him in pleasure. He worked you expertly, moving his fingers like he was put on this world just to please you.

His lips fell from yours, pressing quick kisses on your neck. “I want you hear you,” he whispered into your ear, allowing his thumb to take over the delicious pressure his fingers had been providing. He moved them down, sliding them gently into you. He curled them once he was deep inside, the feeling overpowering. You tilted your head back as you moaned his name, forgetting everything except for him. When Lucien touched you there was no pain from an unwanted mating bond, no thoughts of why you weren’t good enough. There was only you and him. He was painting fire into your soul, giving you the light you needed to live.

Until you felt him be ripped away from you as something cold wound it’s away around your body.

***

i have two separate endings for this! one for lucien and one for azriel <3. i just loved this idea and then couldnt decide which way i wanted it to go haha. i hope you enjoyyyyyy

[blxxmingrose]

hans often wondered what happened after happily ever afters in books—how the characters continued on after the last page of their story. he always hoped there was no real ending, even if it could be considered happy. he wished there was a continuation, to see that they had their happiness with them every day forever more. 

his own story with june showed him that happily ever after truly meant a new chapter—one where their happiness enveloped them, and beyond that, extended outwards to those they held dearly. 

and as hans guided a little hand holding a trowel, he radiated with that very same love. “be careful,” he whispered to their eldest, who had started to express that he wanted to help out in the gardens. 

hans made a small apron for him, along with a sunhat to keep him from the sun, and the pair of them worked on a small portion of the garden he could call his. it was a little experiment, one that would introduce him to the tough but fulfilling act of gardening, which had the little hand stabbing with as much force as he could into the soil with his gardening tool. 

it earned a chuckle from hans, who told him he was doing well and gave him a pat on the back. he turned his head to the shaded patio they had added to the house, one that they decided on after they had him. it was a quiet area shielding them from the sun when their little ones wouldn’t go down for a nap easily.

in this moment, it served as protection from the sun for his husband and their littler daughter, who was happy just to see their figures in front of her. she had a toy in her hand, her eyes wandering around as june rocked her back and forth. hans waved at them happily, the embodiment of the family he loved. 

a gummy smile greeted him back, and out from the backyard scooter materialized, a stick between his teeth, ready to play. this distracted their eldest easily enough that the trowel was forgotten, his hands, soiled with dirt, wrapped around the stick quickly so he could throw it with all his might. hans picked up the trowel, set it aside along with the rest of the tools, and wiped his hands clean as he walked to the patio. 

“he lasted about five minutes,” he said with an air of pride as he took his seat beside june, watching their eldest play with scooter under the glow of the sun. jinx wasted no time to perch on his lap, hans greeting her by rubbing her fur gently. 

all these changes around hans made his heart swell with pride. now, he could tell anyone who asked what happily ever after meant. now, even if their own children asked, they can have truthful answers. because hans knew. hans knew that his forever had just started, and with every new addition to their family, it only multiplied his capacity to love even more. 

june exhaled softly, a sound that wasn’t quite a laugh, but something gentler, something full. he looked at hans — at his husband — and felt the weight of his words settle in his chest, steady like a lighthouse guiding him home.

june had never been one for grand declarations, for putting his feelings into words that could match the enormity of them, but standing here, with hans by his side, he thought maybe he understood how to try.

he watched as hans lifted their hands to the sun, the rings catching the light and glinting like they had been forged from the very rays that warmed their skin. the engagement ring that had once been the only symbol of their quiet promise was now joined by the bands that would mark them forever — husbands in name, in love, and in truth.

june’s lips twitched into a smile as hans declared his intent to show the world, his happiness so uncontainable that it had to be shared. that was hans — his hans —who had once carried so many worries about what could go wrong, who had once hesitated to reach for the things he wanted most. and now, here he was, holding june’s hand high, no hesitation and no fear, only love.

june’s fingers tightened around hans’s, grounding them together. “then let them see,” he murmured, his voice low but sure, his gaze never leaving hans’s. “let them all see.”

scooter and jinx had finally settled at their feet, their small forms curled into the sand, carrying the same ease that settled in june’s heart. family. that was what this was. not just a wedding, not just a day — they had officially built something together.

there had been a time when june had struggled to believe in things like permanence. the world had felt like a place where things were fleeting, where love was something fragile, easily lost, easily broken. but then there had been hans.

hans, who had never let him go.

hans, who had given him a love so unwavering, so absolute, that june had no choice but to believe in it, too.

june swallowed against the emotion building in his chest, tilting his head slightly as he looked at his husband—the love of his life. “good,” he murmured, his voice quiet but thick with feeling. “because you’re my happiness too. and i’m never going anywhere.”

his hand, still entwined with hans’s, lifted to his lips, and june pressed a soft kiss against his knuckles, lingering there for just a moment. a vow, sealed not in words, but in touch, in presence, in all the quiet ways he had always loved hans and would continue to love him for the rest of their days.

let the world see.

let them all know.

hans was his.

and june was his, forever.

[girlyrafe]

──── ᴠᴀʟᴇɴᴛɪɴᴇꜱ .ᐟ

ᡣ𐭩 ❝ ꜱᴏꜰᴛ¡ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ⟡ ݁₊ ❞

⌗ with chris sturniolo .ᐟ.ᐟ

ᝰ summary .ᐟ Valentine’s Day always feels like it belongs to someone else—until Chris changes that. A knock, a bouquet, a note that makes your heart race. And then, his voice, warm and certain—“Fifteen minutes, sweetheart.”

₊ ⊹ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

Valentine’s Day never really feels like it's meant for you. It always seems like a day for people who have someone—who are wanted, adored, and loved in that special way. Sure, your friends send sweet texts, and your mom never forgets to wish you a Happy Valentine’s, but it’s not the same. It’s not the kind that makes your heart race or feel special in that way.

So, you spend most of the day trying to ignore it, scrolling past pictures of flowers and fancy dinners, pretending it doesn’t bother you. But deep down, it does. You don’t want to admit it, but part of you wishes someone would think of you like that.

You’re curled up in bed when you hear the knock. Moving slowly, still wrapped in your oversized hoodie, you shuffle to the door, rubbing your tired eyes. And then you see it.

A bouquet. The most beautiful one you’ve ever seen—roses, daisies, and tiny wildflowers carefully arranged. It looks delicate, thoughtful, and completely overwhelming. Your fingers tremble as you reach for the small card tucked inside.

For my sweetheart.

Your heart skips a beat.

Chris.

You stand there for what feels like forever, staring at the flowers, at the note, at the proof that he thought of you today. That he wants to make you feel special. And you do. More than you ever have before.

Back in bed, still holding the bouquet close, your phone buzzes. Without thinking, you answer.

Chris.

And he looks good. Hood up, chain catching the light, that lazy smirk playing on his lips as he adjusts his phone.

“Hey, pretty girl.”

You duck your face into your sleeve, already feeling warm. “Hey.”

His grin deepens. “Did you get my flowers?”

Your stomach flips. “Yeah, I did.” You glance at them beside you, soft petals brushing against your pillow. “They’re beautiful, Chris. You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to.” His voice is softer now. “Didn’t like the thought of you spending today without knowing how loved you are.”

Your throat tightens, eyes stinging just a little. “You’re too sweet to me.”

“Gotta be,” he murmurs, watching you closely, “you’re my girl, well you know.”

Your breath hitches.

Before you can even process it, before you can overthink, he’s already speaking again. “I’m coming over, by the way. Can’t have my Valentine all curled up and sad in bed. That’s actually criminal.”

You let out a soft laugh, heart fluttering, warmth spreading through your chest. “You don’t have to.”

Chris rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I do. Need to see you all happy ‘n’ pretty in person. Fifteen minutes, sweetheart.”

And just like that, he hangs up, leaving you smiling like an idiot, cheeks burning, heart completely, utterly his.

The knock on your door comes just as the weight of the evening starts pressing in, thick and unmoving, settling into the hollows of your ribs. It’s soft, unhurried—three taps, slow and deliberate. You know who it is before you even check.  

When you pull the door open, Chris is already reaching for you, fingers hooking around your wrist with an easy kind of certainty, like he’s done this a hundred times before, like he already knows you’ll follow. His hood is up, casting shadows over his sharp features, and the chain around his neck catches the dim porch light as he tilts his head, assessing you.   

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice low and sweet, roughened at the edges.  

You barely have time to slip on your shoes before he’s pulling you forward, guiding you into the cool night air with that effortless pull of his. The sky stretches wide and endless above you, deep navy and scattered stars, the wind crisp against your flushed cheeks.  

“Chris,” you start, but he cuts you off with a quiet scoff, shaking his head as he tugs you toward his car.  

“I’m not about to let my Valentine just lie there in bed, all sad and mopey,” he says casually. “That’s straight-up illegal.”

You don’t argue, not really. Not when he’s looking at you like that—fond, teasing, something softer lingering beneath it. You let him open the passenger door for you, let him wait until you’re settled before he shuts it gently, the sound a quiet click in the stillness of the street.  

Inside, the world shrinks to just the two of you, the cabin of his car wrapped in familiar warmth. The scent of his cologne lingers in the air—something clean and musky, tinged with the faintest trace of smoke. You tuck your legs beneath you as Chris settles into the driver’s seat, exhaling a slow breath before reaching into his hoodie pocket.  

The flick of his lighter illuminates his face briefly, flickering gold as he lights the joint, the flame catching on the curve of his jaw, the soft dip beneath his bottom lip. When he inhales, his lashes lower, eyes dark and unreadable, the ember at the tip burning steady.  

He exhales slowly, gaze flickering to you through the curling haze. “You okay, ma?”  

You nod, watching the way his fingers turn the joint absently, the silver rings glinting against his skin. He always asks, even though he knows you don’t mind, even though you’ve never once complained about the scent of him, about the way the smoke curls around his face like it belongs there.  

Chris hums, dragging his thumb across his lip. “You’re quiet tonight.”  

You shrug, fingers playing with the hem of your sleeve. “Just thinking.”  

He glances at you, something thoughtful in the way he watches you. Then, as if making a decision, he flicks the joint out the window and shifts to face you fully, one knee bending up onto the seat.  

“Alright,” he says, lips twitching. “Enough of that sad, quiet stuff. I want giggles.”  

You blink. “Chris—”  

He holds up a finger, brows raising. “Shh. I’m working.”  

You roll your eyes, but he’s already rubbing his hands together like he’s plotting something ridiculous. The faint glow from the dashboard casts his features in soft light, makes his blue eyes shine even brighter as he grins at you.  

“Knock-knock.”  

A sigh, but you can’t stop the way your lips threaten to curl. “Chris.”  

“Knock-knock,” he insists, nudging your knee with his own.  

You exhale, playing along. “Who’s there?”  

“Olive.”  

Your brows pull together. “Olive who?”  

Chris smirks, eyes twinkling. “Olive you, sweetheart.”  

It’s stupid. So incredibly, ridiculously stupid. But warmth unfurls in your chest before you can stop it, bubbling up into a soft, startled laugh, slipping past your lips despite yourself.  

Chris leans back, triumphant, watching you with that quiet sort of pride—the kind that makes your stomach flip, makes your heart ache in a way that’s both sweet and unbearable.   

“There she is,” he murmurs, almost to himself.  

Your laughter fades into something softer, something more fragile. He’s still watching you, gaze slow and steady, like he’s taking his time memorising you—every little shift of your expression, the way your lashes brush your cheeks when you glance down, the way your fingers toy with the hem of your hoodie when you’re feeling shy.  

His knuckles brush against your knee, barely there, but enough to make you freeze. His touch is light, easy, like it’s second nature, like he just needs to feel you close.  

“You’re real pretty when you laugh,” he says, voice low and warm, something almost reverent in the way he says it. “Gotta make sure I hear it more often.”  

Outside, the world stretches quiet and vast beyond the windshield—soft city lights flickering in the distance, the sky endless above. But inside the car, it’s just the two of you, wrapped up in something weightless, something delicate, something unspoken.  

And Chris is looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world worth looking at.

Before you know it, you're cozied up in the passenger seat, the warmth of his presence surrounding you, as you gaze out at the city lights below, a smile tugging at your lips.

but Chris Sturniolo is nervous.

Which means something is seriously wrong.  

Chris—the same Chris who can sweet-talk his way out of trouble, who never second-guesses himself, who somehow always lands on his feet—is shifting in the driver’s seat like he’s got a storm raging inside him. His fingers drum anxiously against the steering wheel, and his jaw is clenched just enough for you to notice.  

The car hums beneath you, parked at the very edge of the cliff, overlooking the sprawling city below. It glitters like a sea of tiny constellations, golden and endless, stretching into the horizon. Normally, you’d be taking it all in, leaning against the window with a dreamy sigh, watching the headlights flicker like fireflies in the night.  

But right now?  

Right now, all you can look at is him.  

Chris never fidgets. Chris never hesitates. Chris never looks like this—like he’s fighting against something he really doesn’t want to say.  

Your heartbeat stirs.  

"Chris?" Your voice is gentle, curious, like you’re afraid pushing too hard will spook him.  

He takes a deep breath, but it doesn’t settle him. If anything, his knee starts bouncing faster. His hands flex on the wheel before he lets go entirely, pressing them against his thighs like he needs to ground himself.  

"Give me a sec."

That’s when you see it.  

The small pink bag in his lap.  

Chris Sturniolo, your best friend, the least gift-giving person you’ve ever met, has a gift bag.  

And suddenly, everything makes sense. The nerves. The shifting. The way he’s acting like the air in the car is suffocating him.  

Your lips part slightly.  

"Chris, what—?"

Before you can finish, he thrusts the bag toward you, eyes trained stubbornly out the window.  

"Here. Whatever. It’s stupid, don’t make it a thing."

And God, your chest aches.  

Because it’s not stupid. It’s not stupid at all.

You take the bag carefully, reverently, like it might disappear if you move too fast. The soft handles press into your palms as you peek inside, and—  

Your heart stops.  

The first thing you see is a tiny pastel box, sealed with a mystery label. Sonny Angels.  

You gasp.  

Your head snaps up to him, eyes wide and sparkling, but he’s still looking anywhere but at you.  

"You’re probably into that shit, uh, right?" he mutters, trying to sound casual.  

Like he doesn’t know that for a fact.�� 

Like he hasn’t watched you scroll through endless listings online, practically vibrating with excitement over each new release. Like he hasn’t heard you talk about them a million times, seen the way your face lights up at the idea of opening a new one, even though they’re random.  

Your fingers tremble slightly as you set the box down beside you, reaching into the bag again.  

Your fingertips brush against something smooth, something heavy, something—  

Leather-bound.

You pull it out slowly. A journal. Not just any journal—a deep red, gorgeously embossed, gold-edged one that looks like it belongs in an old library, tucked away between poetry collections and handwritten love letters.  

You swallow hard, blinking quickly against the warmth rising in your chest.  

Chris shifts, rubbing his jaw. "You’re always writing shit down, so—"

Your breath catches.  

You don’t even have time to process that before your fingers find the next thing—light pink bottles, familiar in shape. You lift them out and—  

Victoria’s Secret body spray and lotion. Your favourite scent.

Chris groans, throwing his head back against the headrest. "Worst experience of my life going in there. Did not fit in. Even tried to get Matt to do it for me, but he bailed like a little bitch."

And that’s it—that breaks you.  

You can see it so clearly—Chris standing in the middle of a Victoria’s Secret, looking deeply out of place, surrounded by pink lace and satin, trying to act like he totally belonged there while sales associates side-eyed him.  

You can’t help it—you giggle, the sound soft and so full of affection.  

And then you reach in again.  

Deep red nail polish. The exact shade you always wear, and now it makes sense when you were getting ready in your bathroom a couple of weeks ago, Chris was in there with you yapping and basically being a child that needs constant entertainment. Seriously, this man was picking up all your stuff and pulling faces. But what you didn't realise was that he rummaged through your nail polish and saw your favourite dark red polish was coming to an end, so he sneakily took a quick photo of it to maybe—maybe—get you a top-up as a gift because he knew he’d forget after he'd had a joint the second he got out of your room, so yeah.

A lip gloss. Perfectly chosen, like he somehow knew exactly what color would suit you best.  

And then—  

Your breath hitches.  

Snoopy socks?

Your fingers brush over the soft fabric, the tiny little Snoopy pattern scattered across them.  

Chris clears his throat, a little gruff. "Uh-huh. Think I was high. Or found them funny and thought of you."

That’s what makes your throat tighten, your heart swell until you think it might burst.  

Because this? This isn’t some random, thoughtless gift bag.  

This is you.  

Every single thing inside—every detail—is something so deeply you.  

Things you’ve never even told him you wanted, but things he somehow knew. He noticed. He remembered. And then he went out and got all of it.  

For you.

Your eyes sting. The gift bag shakes slightly in your grip.  

And before you can stop yourself—  

You launch yourself at him.  

You don’t even think. You just move. You throw your arms around his middle, press your face into the warmth of his hoodie, hold onto him like he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you.

And Chris—Chris stiffens

Like he wasn’t expecting it, like it startles him.  

But then—  

Then he melts.  

His arms wrap around you, warm and solid, one hand pressing between your shoulder blades, the other curving against the back of your head. His fingers curl *just slightly* into your hair, grounding you, holding you closer.  

"Chris—Chris, I love everything. I don’t even know how to thank you—"

His grip tightens. His voice is rough, slightly muffled against your hair.  

"Yeah, yeah. Told you not to make a big deal out of it."

You pull back slightly, just enough to see his face—  

And you nearly laugh.  

Because Chris Sturniolo is blushing.  

His ears are pink. His cheeks are pink.  

Chris—the king of always being cool, the king of never losing his composure—is sitting here, looking at you, blushing.  

And it’s—God, it’s so endearing.  

Your lips curve, eyes way too bright. "Oh, I am making a big deal out of it." 

Chris groans, tipping his head back against the seat, but—  

He’s smiling.  

Trying so hard not to, but failing.  

And then—  

His gaze flickers back to you. Something unreadable crosses his expression. And he mutters, so quiet, like he doesn’t mean for you to hear—  

"Yeah, well. You mean a lot."

Your breath catches.  

The city below blurs into nothing. The air in the car shifts—thicker, heavier, buzzing with something weightless and fragile all at once.  

And Chris?  

Chris is looking at you like he’s just now realizing how deep he’s in this.

ᝰ Avery yaps .ᐟ So it's just a little long, but umm, I got carried away, but I guess I don't mind at all because I'm super happy with this for them, and I really hope you enjoyed this. Find more of my valentine series here. This is probably one of my favourite things I’ll ever write. I love it so much please interact.

©GIRLYRAFE

[marymary-diva17]

Hi i know its been a while, and i have a request for ya. A valentine's day gift, with human F!reader with ronal and tonowari.

The humans holidays had become a new example for the navi, and soon enough they had started celebrating the holidays from the sky people. It had become mostly important to celebrate these holidays after the sky people, had become very close to the navi and the clans. Seeing it as a far exchange as the humans have embraced the great mother why don't they do the same for humans as well.

y/n " ......." you are sitting down carving some gifts for your mates, as valentines day will be here soon. There had been many holidays that you shared with your mates, after they had asked about your old life as a sky person. As there had been many holidays that you have shared with them.

ronal " hello ma y/n"

y/n " oh ronal you are home"

ronal " well I have gotten done with some my duties and came home, to see who was home right now and it seems like I found you"

y/n " oh yes I'm working on a gift for tonowari"

ronal " oh yes valentines day is coming up once again

y/n " yes it and have made special gifts for you and tonowari, along with the kids as well"

ronal " you re carving a very beautiful necklace for tonowari"

y/n " yes I have been working on this for days and I can't wait to show you and everyone their special gifts"

ronal " you always make special gifs ma y/n"

y/n " thank you" ronal had give you a kiss on the check as you looked at her, and smile at her.

ronal " ever since you told us abut this holiday I have really enjoyed, celebrating it and life has become amazing"

y/n " well I do enjoy celebrating it with everyone as well" you had kissed ronal making her smile back at you, soon enough tonowari had come into the home but stopped dead in his tracks. As he soon saw you and ronal as it seems like he was bringing something home.

tonowari " oh hello ma ronal and ma y/n" the two women chuckled at tonowari reaction, as the man soon relax as his mates looked at him.

Y/n “ tonowari honey is everything okay”

tonowari “ yes everything is fine I didn’t accept to have you both home right now, not that I’m upset about it”

ronal “ so ma tonowari what do you bring home with you”

tonowari “ well seeing that Valentine’s Day will be here soon, I have brought gifts that I shall not show either one of you until the day comes”

ronal “ well it seems like we all have the same idea”

y/n “ you know when i told you all about the holidays, from the humans I never thought everyone to take them up so easily”

ronal “ well you have become our mate and we have made a life here with you, as you have accepted our ways and we shall do the same for you”

tonowari “ even due we had been confused at first, we soon had realized that these holidays see important and special to you and we wish to keep that for you”

Y/n “ thank you”tonowari had kissed your forehead as well, as your mates had sat with you, as they had made their own gifts for you at the moment. Being with your mates had made you very happy during the holidays, even due you are on a new planet life still went on for everyone.

Valentines day

ronal " this gift is for you ma y/n"

tonowari " yes I and ronal had worked on it together" ronal had placed you a gift wrapped in some leather, as you soon removed the leather to see a necklace.

y/n " is so beautiful"

tonowari " we are happy to hear that the pearls and shell on the necklace have a very important meeting"

y/n " oh really"

ronal " yes the meaning is that you are our mate to anyone who see it, and that you are a important to us as well symbol our love forever"

y/n " I love to so much thank you so much"

tonowari " we also love the gifts you have given us as well"

y/n " no matter what happens I shall always love the both of you"

ronal " thank you ma y/n and I shall love you and tonowari as well"

tonowari " I think I'm lucky enough to be blessed by the great mother, with two wonderful mates" The tiro had a wonderful relationship with each other, even due they could be very different from each other they still had something that contacted them together. Soon their household of three will change, as they welcome a new lives into their home and lives. As their love will grow stronger and stronger as the years come and go.

[dragonbackvoyager]

My piece of @lazlolemur's characters Rizene and Navi for our art trade! My goodness were these two husbands a joy to paint! 💕

[hoonatic]

emergency contact | park sunghoon x reader

prompt: weeks after your breakup, sunghoon finds out that he’s still your emergency contact. pairing: non-idol sunghoon x implied female reader genre: angst with hopeful/happy? ending; second chance romance??; exes to lovers??? word count: 2800 note: i’ve had a cute fic idea that i wanted to write forever…but this is not it. the sad demons have visited me once again. hope y’all enjoy nevertheless and any feedback is much appreciated <3

sunghoon was miserable. 

it had been three weeks, five days, two hours, and thirty-two minutes since the two of you had gone no contact.

he wished he could say he was happy to be single, that he was no longer “locked down” and “whipped” as his friends had always called him. but the so-called “freedom” felt like hell since it meant losing you.

at first, he kept telling himself that time would heal the pain. “it’s natural,” he had repeated like a mantra, “she was your best friend and lover for years.” but no, this heartbreak was inhumane. his desire to see you, apologize endlessly, and spend days holding you until you could feel every ounce of his love was gnawing at his soul. if anything, it got worse by the minute.

he had tried so hard to balance work and the rest of his life, using the excuse several times that he was securing this future for your shared life with him. that one day, you’d be able to reap the rewards of his efforts and live comfortably together without stress.

but what was the use of all of that now? the future he had worked so hard to create was ripped out from his hands by no one other than himself. 

you had accused him of being too busy for you. dates canceled at the last minute, a birthday forgotten, and all the texts left on read had built up to the argument that ended it all. he was always good at fighting, a little too good. he had retorted that you weren’t being supportive, and he was never one to sugarcoat his words. his tongue was sharp, and he did nothing to dull its blade.

but there wasn’t too much yelling on your part, and he thought that that hurt more. he wanted you to fight back, to stand your ground because he knew deep down that he was being the asshole. his toxic thought was that by you fighting back, this meant that you were still fighting for your relationship. but instead, you just stared with silent tears and a blank expression. seeing the indifference in eyes that had previously held so much love was a sight that would stay with him forever. so, in fear of you leaving, he ran instead.

he was a coward, leaving your shared home to run back to the apartment he had still technically owned but hadn’t lived in for more than a year. he locked himself away for a few days, but the realization that you hadn’t attempted to contact him burned more than he could put into words. you were done with him. he had hurt you, had the audacity to be the one to run, and now he had lost you.

he had even run from his job. he couldn’t stand to walk into the same building he stayed in when he forgot dates with you. his coworkers wouldn’t stop asking what happened to him, why he looked so rough. he even found an empty container that had once held lunch you made for him. but his final straw was getting promoted. his first instinct was to call you, but he remembered the sad truth before he could dial. any ounce of pride was washed away with shame in that moment. that same day, he quit without notice.

so there he was: miserable, alone, and unemployed with nothing left to run from but memories. he had spent the last week going through his phone and saving your pictures together in a locked album. he wouldn’t dare delete them, but he couldn’t stomach looking at you either.

he wished he could get drunk and sleep away the pain. he had tried, he definitely did - but that night, he dreamt of you. you were smiling at first, eyes ever full of love. you were speaking, yet he couldn’t hear you. but he could see how your words started to gradually look sadder, and slowly, tears started to fall as your grin dropped. he woke up that next morning crying with the conclusion that he would have to face this heartbreak sober.

but another day of scrolling through albums had stopped abruptly when he saw the notification that changed everything.

SOS i called emergency services from this approximate location after my watch detected a hard fall. you are receiving this message because i have you listed as my emergency contact.

sunghoon had to remind himself to breathe.

he had purchased that watch for you as a “just because” present months ago. you had complained of bad sleep and he wanted you to use it as a way to track your slumber. he hated seeing you tired. he knew that the watch had a fall detection function, but it had never been used before.

his heart was in his stomach as he went to his favorite contacts page and selected your name for the first time in weeks.

“please,” he begged, all notion of running away from you leaving his brain, “pick up please.”

but you just weren’t answering. so he tried again and again and again.

for a moment while the line attempted to connect, he wondered if this was how he had made you feel for months - desperate for a sliver of attention from him. but instead, he was desperate for a sign of life.

finally, after about two minutes of trying to reach you, his body moved of its own accord. before he knew it, his car keys were in his hands and he was out the door.

the car ride there might have been the worst part. the speed at which he drove at almost defied the laws of physics. other drivers were cursing at him but he wasn’t registering anything except the thought of your safety. he just needed to get to you.

why did he run? why didn’t he try to talk it out? if he was so afraid of losing you, why did he do the one thing that would guarantee that? he should have been there like he promised to be from the beginning. you would have been safe with him.

when he pulled up to the house you had shared for so long, he suddenly felt the world slow down. why were emergency services there? you should’ve canceled them by now.

he had to double park as the ambulance was blocking the driveway. why were they here?

the emts and police had arrived at the same time as him, which both increased his anxiety and soothed him. for one, that meant he had been quick enough. but why did you need them?

“sir, do you know–” an officer had approached him as he stumbled to the front door. all he could understand was your name. why were they asking if he knew you? of course he knew you. you, the love of his life. you, his soulmate by every meaning of the word. you were you. and you were safe.

as if sensing his distress, he felt an emt worker pull him to the side as the same officer prepared to break down the door. seeing this, sunghoon finally returned to his senses.

“w-wait! sorry, i have a key.” sunghoon’s hands were shaking. the only way that door had unlocked was by pure muscle memory because he didn’t understand what he was doing at all.

as soon as the door opened, sunghoon tried to step in. finally, he was close to you. 

the officer, however, pulled him back.

“sir, you should wait here. we need to make an initial search before you can go in.”

“what, why? if she’s in there, i want to see–”

“sir, it’s just in case we find something we wouldn’t want you to see.”

all of sunghoon’s hesitation and fear went out the window at those words. his body flew automatically as he ran inside.

he screamed your name as he rushed in, ignoring the yells of the police officers who followed him in. as it had been for almost four weeks, his only thought was you. he just needed you.

he checked the ground floor first, eyes scanning the open space in less than a second as his body avoided an officer trying to grab him. sunghoon then moved to the staircase, long legs prepared to skip steps to reach you. then suddenly, he heard the voice his ears had been longing for,

“sunghoon?!”

his head shot up. there you were, finally. he saw the sadness, confusion, and fear all flash your face as you registered the emergency workers behind him. you looked exhausted and unruly, but he had never felt more in love.

he didn’t even remember climbing the steps, but suddenly he was at the top of the staircase and you were in his arms. 

you could feel him trembling as he held you. you took his face into your hands to look at him, “sunghoon? what’s wrong? why are you here? is it my parents? is someone hurt?” you watched as his mouth opened but no words came out. after a few seconds, one of the officers spoke from the bottom of the steps,

“ma’am, we received an alert from your device that a hard fall had occurred.”

suddenly, you understood everything. taking sunghoon’s hand gently, you led him down the stairs, afraid he’d fall from shock. he followed you silently, but his grip tightened seemingly with every step.

that’s when you noticed your shattered watch on the third step.

you let sunghoon go and you could hear his deep breath when you did. you picked up the watch and offered it up to the officer as an explanation, “i’m sorry officer, it looks like there’s been a misunderstanding…”

the officer nodded in understanding, and dismissed the emts, “got it, ma’am. we will still need a formal report for our records since this was registered as an emergency call.” he motioned to your couch as he took out a pen and paper.

you reached for sunghoon’s hand once more and led him to sit with you. in the moment, you knew he needed you more than you would ever understand. so, as you explained to the officer, you held his trembling hand, rubbing soothing circles with your thumb.

“i was doing laundry here downstairs and had taken off my watch to prevent it from getting wet,” you recounted, “i put it on top of the basket of clothes that i took upstairs. i remember tripping a little going up the stairs - i didn’t fall, but that must’ve been when the watch fell."

"what about your phone, where is it? i'm sure your boyfriend must've tried to call you."

sunghoon slowly nodded at that, turning to look at you. you smiled sheepishly, "i left it upstairs and it was on silent while i folded the clothes. i’m so sorry for the inconvenience.”

after finishing up your statement, the remaining officer prepared to leave. as he walked out the door, he gave a soft smile to the both of you,

“glad to see it was a false alarm, ma’am. you had this gentleman quite worried - ran so fast i couldn’t even grab him!” the officer laughed, “you two have a nice day now! sorry about your watch, though!”

after he shut your door, the silence enveloped your home. you closed your eyes and breathed deeply to prepare to speak to your ex-boyfriend. but as soon as you opened them, sunghoon started to cry softly.

he hugged you tighter than he ever had, and soon enough, his face was buried in your neck. his cries were silent, but you could feel his body shaking as his tears soaked your shirt.

“sunghoon…” you started, stroking his back, “i’m sorry i worried you, honey.”

you knew you shouldn’t be calling your ex pet names, especially an ex that had run from you without properly ending the relationship. but your heart still held so much love for him that it flowed out naturally. and you knew he was crying from more than just worry, so you doubt he minded at all in the moment.

his crying slowed down as his arms took to loosely wrapping around your waist instead. he pulled away from your neck to rest his forehead on yours. from this angle, you could see his swollen eyes and red nose - a sight so rare in all the years you had dated. he was never a crier after all.

but memories of several late-night conversations rushed your mind. he always said his number one fear was your death, and now you could see he had never lied about that.

he could see your mind go elsewhere so he called your name softly, “don’t say you’re sorry. i’m so happy, these are relieved tears. and i just really, really missed you.” he croaked out. you knew he had more to say, so you just nodded, letting him go on.

“and i’m sorry, baby. for everything. i shouldn’t have run, i shouldn’t have tried to egg you on to fight me back. i shouldn’t have even fought anything you said that night. you were right. i didn’t prioritize you. in my attempt to secure you for life, i let you go instead. i’m so sorry, i never wanted to break up.” he was rambling in earnest now, afraid that no words would make you take him back.

you listened quietly as he went on for a few minutes after that, hand continuing to rub his back, “i know honey, i know.”

“baby, you need to understand that i almost died thinking you almost died today,” you could’ve laughed at how dramatically he spoke, “i couldn’t breathe right thinking that our last conversation could’ve been an argument. that you wouldn't have ever known just how deeply i love you and need you. i have so much regret for how i treated you, but if you’d give me the chance, i have all the time in the world to make it up to you…let’s go on that vacation i promised you. we can leave tomorrow if you’d like.” he smiled hopefully at you.

“hoon,” his heart soared at the use of his beloved nickname, “what do you mean? don’t you have work? can you really leave with such short notice?”

“i quit my job.”

“excuse me?”

“no job that made me work that much is worth it. i’ll find one with better work-life balance…after our vacation. if that’s what you still want of course…” he spoke more quietly, as if afraid of rejection.

you sighed. you really should be realistic with this - you two had been broken up for a few weeks at that point. you knew the love was still there, but was this a good decision?

while there was still some hesitation on your part, you couldn't help but notice how gingerly he held you. his arms were still around your waist loosely, yet there was something desperate about their hold. you knew he was holding back from hurting you - you could tell how tightly he wanted to hug you.

he was so shaken up at the idea of you being hurt that he rushed over there despite the two of you not being on speaking terms. for someone who had trouble communicating how he felt sometimes, you knew his actions spoke louder than words. he always acted brave, but there was so much he feared. and you knew losing you was always at the top of this list.

you could also feel how he was simply soaking in the sight of your face. his eyes were shy, yet determined. he wasn't going to risk missing another second of staring at you. a part of you grew conscious, but you knew he was just taking in what he had missed for weeks.

“what about…” you started and almost giggled at how he perked up, “we take it slow - another two weeks or so to talk everything out and relax? to get us to a good place again before you hold me hostage in some foreign country?”

sunghoon smiled softly, kissing your forehead. you leaned in naturally to his warmth, to his touch that you missed so much. “that sounds like a great idea, love.” he spoke, “we’ll get you a new watch too. and i’ll do all the itinerary planning and packing whenever you’re ready, okay? i love you.”

“okay. and i love you too. can’t wait to enjoy your unemployment with you for now!”

one smile and nod from you had him taking you into his arms once more, relishing in your being. he was back where he belonged. he had experienced the scariest reminder ever that he needed you, and sunghoon was never letting you go now.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hiii Author :D this is actually my first request, but could I ask for homocipher (especially my bb MR Crawling 🥺) when you kiss them for the first time pls and thank u 🙏

Mr Crawling

Sweet boy is giggling, blushing and kicking his long ass legs after staying unsettlingly silent for five minutes.

He’s on cloud nine the moment you pressed your warm lips against his as sweetly as you did. He didn’t know what that thing you were doing exactly, kissing was a foreign concept to him but all he knows is that he wants you to do it again and again for eternity.

Kissing this cutie is a little sloppy when he’s trying to imitate you, but you can’t get mad at him when he’s smiling and giggling in happiness that he got to reciprocate the happiness you give him.

Seriously this man has become ten times more clingy as he’s smothering you in hugs while chirping and purring in your ear, nuzzling his face against your own.

Mr crawling will double, no triple you in affection and you’re legally not allowed to move until he’s done kissing every inch of your face and neck. He just wants to make you happy and if kissing is one way to do it then Mr Crawling will do it continuously and it’ll never get old.

He will honour the kiss forever and ever and ever.

Mr Scarletella

Captain of the S.S Delusional over here.

You’re not helping his obsession with you. Not one bit after kissing him lightly as now he fully thinks this is you accepting his love and affection, letting him inside your heart as your one and only.

So have fun trying to get him off your back when he’s muttering shit like ‘mine. Love. Mine. Love. Mine. Love’ under his breath as he towers over you as you realised that this man was near inescapable.

And I mean he’s inescapable the moment you gave him that innocent little kiss on his lips. He’s smiling to himself as he runs his fingertips over his lips, still feeling your own there as his mind creates scenarios where your sat in his lap, kissing him to your hearts content and confessing your love for him.

So if you thought he was bad before, he’s fucking worse now and there’s little chance of escaping him. So good luck with all that, you will need it.

He won’t do anything to his lips in fear he’d wipe your kiss away, he’s savouring it and has the memory framed in his head as his most precious moment.

Mr Silvair

Kissing is a concept he’s not privy to and so he’s seeing this as a potential experiment he could delve into deeper.

All for science is the motto for this dude I’m afraid. Mr Silvair doesn’t feel much outside of that and an occasional warmth that he pushes aside frequently.

He’ll probably ask you to do it again, not because he wanted you to but because he’s curious as to how each and every kiss feels, believing that each one has a different meaning behind them. He’d might even indulge in what sort of stimuli could trigger you to made such a bold move on your own accord.

So to him it wouldn’t mean as much as it would for you unfortunately but that’s not going to stop him from asking for more kisses, and or creating scenarios where kissing him was the ultimate goal, and all for science experimentation.

Totally not to satiate the need to feel the warmth those kisses gave him if only briefly. 👀👀

Mr Gap

This dude doesn’t want a kiss, he wants your heart and not in the romantic sense.

You kissing him felt weird and he didn’t know whether to like it or hate it. So he mostly stays indifferent.

Seriously he’ll experience the kiss, scrunch his face up and still ask for your heart. Affection doesn’t exist within this dude at the slightest, and if it did it’s not by very much at all.

So kissing him wouldn’t exactly do much and he wouldn’t bother to reciprocate either, he’s still as fuck too so you might as well be kissing a stone statue.

Seriously. I’m not joking. I wish I was but I’m not.

[landoughnut]

Dream Girl

♡masterlist - request - emoji anons

♡ pairing - lando norris x fem!reader

♡ summary - when being interviewed, the conversation gets on the topic of you, lando's long term obsession crush, never in a million years did he think you would actually notice him

♡ warnings - obsessed/simp lando

♡ w/c & a/n - 0.85k | I hope you all are doing good! as usual send any requests xoxo

"Good afternoon, Lando! We're happy to have you here with us today," the interviewer smiles, sat across from the driver.

"Great to be here," he nods, putting his hands on his lap and leaning back into the chair, "Wow, nice chairs you've got here."

The interviewer laughs, "Glad you approve of them. So, let's get started with the questions, shall we?" Lando nods and the lady clears her throat, "First off, when racing at the high speeds you do, what are some things you're thinking about? Or maybe I should say, a someone?"

Let's rewind. If there was one thing, besides being a Formula 1 driver, that everyone knew Lando Norris for, it was having the world's most massive crush on you. In fact, pretty much everyone was aware of this; except for you.

You wouldn't call yourself oblivious, per se. You just weren't really one to be online, so you never saw all the drama surrounding Lando's infatuation with you.

He has been enamored with you for about three years now, and he made it everyone's problem. From liking instagram updates of you, to commenting on pictures and videos of you, to even reposting edits of you. His friends must have sat through hours and hours of hearing him just speak about your beauty and personality.

His friends teased him about it quite often, though he was never really embarrassed over it. He truly just found everything about you beautiful, you were his dream girl, everything he'd ever want in a woman.

"Well, uh, I think about, you know, winning. Also what I'm going to eat after, and uh.. my girl," he nods with a slight grin.

The interviewer raises her eyebrows, "I wasn't informed you finally got a girlfriend," she says, surprised.

He laughs and shakes his head, "No, no. She's not my girlfriend... yet. Although I'm not even sure if she knows that I exist, but I'm working on it."

"Ah, I should have known," the lady smiles at his flustered state, "I wish you luck with that. Now I believe we should move onto the more important questions, before I get in trouble," she taps on her clipboard.

The rest of the interview seemed like forever for Lando, now that he was thinking about you again, as he usually is.

You're in your bed, watching one of your favorite shows, How I Met Your Mother, when your phone starts to blow up with your friends messaging you and sending you a link to a YouTube video of some F1 interview.

You open the video is none other than the very cute, Lando Norris. Of course you knew who he was, you kept up with Formula 1 on your free time and enjoyed watching the races.

As the video is playing through, you open the comments and your eye go wide at everyone saying your name and commenting on how hot of a couple you two would make. You furrow your eyebrows at some comments talking about how devoted to you he must be for liking you for several years without a single interaction.

You continue to watch the video and your cheeks turn pink as he talks about, well you. You couldn't believe that he liked you like that, surely you were well-known, and you weren't too bad looking, but one of the best current racers in the world crushing on you?

After the video ended you messaged your best friend back, asking what you should do. She, of course, told you to message him on instagram.

You thought over the idea for a bit, before nervously clicking on his account and following him back before beginning to type.

Lando was hanging out with Oscar around the garage when he hears his phone ping with a notification. He glances at it and turns his phone off again before doing a double check to make sure he saw it right. You had followed him.

"OSCAR," he yells and turns to his friend, holding the phone in his face, "SHE FOLLOWED ME, LOOK," he waves the phone.

Oscars jaw drops, never did he see this day coming, "Wow! Mate, thats fantastic, and look! It seems like she just sent you a message!"

"What? I might faint, Oscar," the boys hands shake with excitement and nerves as he clicks on your message. "Hi! I saw your interview, and I must say, I'm truly flattered," Lando reads as his face turns dark pink, he didn't think you'd see it, guess he was wrong.

Oscar starts laughing, "Text her back!"

"I don't know what to say, I've never spoken to her in my life," he panics.

"Mate, she saw you call her your girl, it's a bit too late to be nervous," Oscar smiles, patting his friend's pack. Lando chews his lip and writes back, heart pounding.

After a few messages were exchanged and an anticipated Oscar waiting for an update clears his throat, Lando looks up from the phone with the brightest smile Oscar has ever seen on him, "Guess who scored himself a date with his future wife this Saturday?"

[fastandcarlos]

“I Do” : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: follow along as the countdown to becoming mrs norris is on 🥺

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux and 293,705 others

ynusername: last race week of the season, wedding season is officially under way 💕🤩

38,028 comments

username1: I can’t wait for all the wedding spam that’s coming our way!!

username2: lando as a husband is a vibe 🥺

landonorris: thank you for always supporting me again this season 🫶🏻

ynusername: @/landonorris always your biggest fan 💕

username3: another amazing year in the papaya 💪🏻🏎️

oscarpiastri: sorry where’s my congratulations for my season too???

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri congrats osc, I’m very proud of you too!

username4: osc 😭😭😭

username5: you two are everything omg

carmenmmundt: I cannot wait to make you a bride 🥺

lilymhe: bridesmaids assemble 🫡

username6: deep in my feels knowing these two are getting married in a couple of weeks

username7: please remember your fans and share everything with us 🙏🏻

georgerussell63: you just wait and see what we’ve got prepared for lan 😂

danielricciardo: can’t wait to lead your soon to be husband astray 😬

username8: why does this feel like it’s about to be the messiest wedding ever lmao

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by georgerussell63, danielricciardo and 1,593,604 others

landonorris: last trip before we get married, I think my face shows just how excited I am to marry you 🫶🏻

138,593 comments

tagged: ynusername

username9: I wish I had someone as excited to be with me as lando is with yn

username10: his smile 🤧🤧

maxverstappen1: you’ve got your vows to be soppy, keep it off of social media 😂

ynusername: thank you for the best time ❤️❤️❤️

username11: the outfits woah 🤩

username12: my heart can’t cope with much of the adorableness between these two

lewishamilton: talk about making everyone feel jealous about how happy you are 😂

charles_leclerc: we get it. you’re getting married. jeez.

landonorris: @/charles_leclerc do one party pooper 🙃

username13: if I don’t have a marriage like these two then I’m not interested

username14: oh how I wish I was yn right now 😭

carlossainz55: little lando norris is all grown up

landonorris: @/carlossainz55 but big lando norris where it matters 🤭

username15: pls say these two will be forever together

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, alex_albon and 483,605 others

ynusername: when people ask me what I see in lando to want to marry him, this is what I show them 😂💞

28,505 comments

tagged: landonorris

username16: can always count on yn to throw lando under the bus lmao

username17: thank you for reminding us what an idiot lando is

oscarpiastri: fyi he’s raging that you posted these 😂

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri remind him of all the times he’s done this to me hahah

username18: these are the photos we LOVE

danielricciardo: saving all these photos for future use as we speak 🤷🏻‍♂️

alex_albon: you’re a brave girl yn 😂😂

lilymhe: how are you so unserious all the damn time 🤦🏻‍♀️

username19: keep it coming pls yn I beg you

landonorris: remind me again why I’m marrying you when all you do is bully me

ynusername: @/landonorris because you love me 💞

username20: why does the second picture leave me with so many questions 😂😂😂😂

username21: it’s picture one for me ☺️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, maxverstappen1 and 1,795,203 others

landonorris: BEST STAG DO EVER 🍻

136,594 comments

ynusername: please say you arrived home in one piece 🤦🏻‍♀️

danielricciardo: @/ynusername can’t make any promises 🤐

username22: lord help us if daniel ricciardo organised lando’s stag do

username23: poor yn having to deal with the hangover from this 😂

oscarpiastri: and I promise not to show yn the photos of you doing body shots off of max

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri I don’t think I want to see these photos 😂😂

username24: wtf I wanna see these photos

georgerussell63: happy to give you the send off you deserve 🫡

username25: this sequence of photos is titled lando living his best life

username26: how many shots do we reckon were drunk last night??

pierregasly: remind me never to go out partying with you again

carlossainz55: I think I need about three weeks to recover from this 😭

username27: not lando wrecking all his fellow drivers

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by and 10,583 others

f1wags: congratulations are in order as today’s the day lando and yn tie the knot - wishing you guys the best day ever 💕🥂

960 comments

username28: ah I can’t wait to see all the photos from this

username29: I’ve never met two people so in love

username30: so glad they’re getting their happy ending 💕🤧

username31: the perfect match finally tying the knot 😭

username32: I’ve got major fomo today omg ☺️

username33: I never imagined lando even getting married until he met yn

username34: praying we get lots of content from the boys today 🤞🏻

username35: hoping they have the best time, they deserve everything!!

username36: I’d do anything to be there and see lando in his suit

username37: I can’t believe the day has finally arrived, I’m not even getting married and I’m nervous

username38: mr and mrs norris 🧡🧡🧡🧡

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by and 9,492 others

f1updates: here’s just some of the drivers suited and booted as they attended the norris wedding today, they all look great 🤵🏻🏎️

1,302 comments

username39: how can a trio of men be so beautiful 😭

username40: asking for a friend…are any of these single???

username41: now this is the content I wanted from today 😂

username42: anyone else wondering what charles was thinking with those sunglasses hahah

username43: not carlos looking like the finest best man to exist

username44: petition for these guys to appear at my wedding too pls

username45: if these guys are a warm up I can’t wait to see what lando looked like

username46: my heart is so happy that all the drivers showed up too

username47: I can’t wipe the smile from my face after seeing these photos ☺️

username48: race suits, formal suits, these guys pull off anything 😭

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 783,504 others

ynusername: the day I’ve dreamt of since I was a little girl, so proud to be your wife lando norris 🥺🫶🏻

54,593 comments

landonorris: the best day of my life, so happy to be able to call you mine forever 💞

username49: congratulations you guys!!

oscarpiastri: thank you for inviting me and lily to be part of your special day 🥺

danielricciardo: well done for not messing up your speech 👏🏻

landonorris: @/danielricciardo it was touch and go for a while 😂

username50: I can’t believe my favourite duo are officially married!!

maxverstappen1: best wedding I’ve ever been too…lando’s dad dancing aside 😝

alex_albon: you guys are the cutest, so happy for you both 🫶🏻🥂

username51: I can’t get over how adorable these photos are

username52: the smile on yn’s face omg 🤩

carlossainz55: proud dad over here 😂😂

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 best in law ever!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, georgerussell63 and 2,043,483 others

landonorris: I could get used to married life 😂 honeymooning with the most beautiful bride in the world ❤️

78,492 comments

ynusername: cannot wait to spend forever with you my love 💞🫶🏻

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[yayll]

~ a little something about waking up next to Dazai, and he's unbearable as always ~

"I might just eat you alive..." He mumbles to himself, barely audible. His eyes are half-lidded, and he's barely blinked.

He's been watching you sleep next to him curled up like a kitten for the past hour, way past the time you usually wake up. He's the oversleeper, not you, and it makes him hyper aware of your bodily functions and if they're okay. He hasn't eaten properly in days, but you don't need to know that. He's rabid, and he knows he's being a total freak right now, but who will worry for you if not for him? He must rise up to be the voice of reason, the watchful eye that keeps you on track even if he can barely keep himself alive! He wishes you'd stay forever, where he could avoid his problems and take care of your every single need. He should be everything you need... He hopes. Then you'd never leave, and he would make sure to eat more, just for you. How perfect... selfish.

God, he just wants to crawl inside of you and make you his home, it's almost pathetic. You'd find him vile for the things he would do for you and your happiness, despite you already being so accepting of his dark past... You're simply heaven sent. He takes a deep breath, and lightly runs his knuckles down your jawline, as if carving them out of the precious material that you're made of. You begin to stir, and his pupils dilate instantly as he pulls back with anticipation.

"Mmm... Osamu..."

You murmur sleepily as your chest rises up and down ever so slowly. He's freaking out. It's bad for his health to hear the way you say his name as if it were a healing oath, a spell that only works on him.

"Wakey wakey~"

Dazai's propping himself up on one elbow, a calculating smile plastered on his lips as if he were in on something you weren't. You pop open one eye, and groan softly.

"You're up... early"

"Yes!"

"Why..." You yawn like the silly little thing you are. He gasps in mock offense, clutching his chest.

"Can't a fortunate guy like ME just be happy that we both live to see another beautiful day?!"

He winks, and boops the tip of your nose, this gets a muffled snort out of you that causes you to bury your face into the pillow. He's addicted to the rush of causing any joy in your life, it's disgusting. When you don't lift your face back up, he scrunches up his face, and reaches out to stroke a strand of your silky hair, but his intrusive thoughts win and he tugs on it as payback for possibly falling asleep again. He needs your attention, and you're sleeping? Insanity. You swat at him, blindly smacking his arm away.

Oh, how he loves that you're the only person who truly sees him past his myriad of theatrics.

"Oh my... a slap from you feels wonderful!"

He rubs his arm, and grabs the hand that swatted him, bringing it up to kiss the pulse point on your wrist. Feather like kisses, almost undetectable... until you lift your face up from the pillow, finally.

He gazes at you as he rubs his face onto your hand like a cat greeting its owner, purring as if he were starved for affection. For a moment, his gaze becomes more serious, detached, as if he were thrown back into a distant memory. He can't describe the feeling, but the way your hand feels against his cheek is a warmth he hasn't felt in ages. His eyes sting, and he blinks the wetness away before you can notice as he hears your angelic voice again. He's back to his usual self.

"Osamu... You're being annoying"

"You think I'm just annoying?~"

His voice comes out in a tender whisper, his mouth curled up into a mischievous grin. He's insufferable. He could be anything for you if you wanted it. Especially annoying! He almost drools when you roll your eyes affectionately at him, the coldness in his heart disappears as he leans in just a little, invading your personal space as always, eager to hear your reply.

"Amongst other things, yes..."

You flash him a sweet little smile, and it mends all that is wrong in the world. The pink in your cheeks is starting to turn red, and it sends him to the moon. He hums, slowly nuzzling himself into the crook of your neck, it's his turn to curl up. You run your fingers through his messy hair that tickles you, feeling the warmth of Dazai's breaths against the back of your ear.

"Hmm, do I look like a pillow to you?"

He can hear the smile in your murmur, and he pulls back from your neck briefly, peering at you through his messy bangs, those intense hazelnut eyes demanding your attention, and his voice drips with an aching devotion that oozes like honey. he moves his lips to your ear, and whispers.

".. You look like an angel to me."

He watches you self destruct at his painfully smooth delivery of a compliment, and secretly rewards himself for once again giving you another reason to never leave. He's got it all!

Romance, self deprecating humor, an inability to properly process his emotions and grief, but more importantly, an undying commitment to stay alive against all odds so that he may see another day of you in his arms... or you helping him change his bandages... or-

He's cut short by you grabbing the sides of his face and pulling him into the most sinfully delicious kiss known to man, and he could swear that despite all his efforts, this might be what ACTUALLY kills him.

[shadowbriar]

Five Hargreeves - Back To You

Pairing : Five Hargreeves x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 2.8k Warning : Angst. Season 4 references. Synopsis : After one too many subway trips, Five's plan of temporal refuge extended as he met someone he refuse to lose. Notes : I refuse to acknowledge what happened in Episode 5 and 6 though I use the gif of said episodes. Don't come at me if you don't agree. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

Living in a small cottage by the lake has never been in his cards. To settle down and watch the sun sets everyday, hearing the rocking chair creak as he takes a sip of his coffee. This was beyond anything he could ever hoped for, anything he could afford. He knew that this wasn’t the life he’s supposed to lead. Lord, this wasn’t even a life he owns to begin with. But with each second passed in this universe, Five finds it hard to drag himself back to that subway and return to his own timeline.

“Enjoying the scenery, are we?” She whispers as she sits on his lap, clinging her arms around his neck “You know, I could really use the help stuffing that chicken. It is afterall your special request.”

The boy raised an eyebrow, “Shouldn’t I be off of any chores since it is my special request?”

“Just because it’s your birthday, doesn’t mean you’re having a vacation, big guy,” She reasoned “We’ve only got two hands and this house is only getting bigger than smaller.”

The boy couldn’t bite his grin when he leaned in to kiss her. His heart swells. She was right. The house feels like it’s growing along with them. They might not have much, certainly far from the wealth his father possesses, but it was much more than enough. Having her was much more than enough.

“You know that I love you, right?” Five asks as he pulls away, his left hand still cupping her cheek as his thumb caresses her gently.

“I know,” She nods, smiling “But you can’t sweet talk your way out of kitchen duty, Mister.”

Five chuckles, standing from his seat as he carried her in his arms, “Alright, Missy, let’s see what this chicken fuss is all about.”

—-

The muscles on his cheeks were aching but he couldn’t fight the need to grin as wide as he could. He was happy, watching her carry that awful looking cake out of the oven. The icing that supposedly spelled ‘happy birthday’ was crooked, its colour pale compared to the bright fondant covering it. Thank God the candles were their only source of light, otherwise she wouldn’t even bring it out, he reckons.

“It’s ugly, I know,” She says as she lets it rest on the table “But it tastes better than it looks, I promise.”

Five shakes his head, disagreeing with her discouraging comments as he steals a kiss, “It’s perfect.”

“Well, go on and make a wish!”

The boy closes his eyes. His hands holding hers as he whispers his wish: I wish for this to last forever. Her squeals of excitement was music to his ears as he blew the candles. It is indeed the best birthday of his life.

“I’d ask but I know you wouldn’t tell me your wish.”

“Who said I made any wish?”

“You did,” She says as she helps him cut the cake “You make that little frown everytime you say your little prayer, do you know that?”

“I don’t pray, Love.”

“You do. Well, not religiously, but sometimes you do. You say your little prayer, your hopes. You whisper them sometimes, but most times you just close your eyes and do that little frown thing.”

Five raised an eyebrow, “Have you been watching me?”

“I might,” She teases “I mean who wouldn’t watch such a handsome man like you?”

The night continues as the couple finishes their dinner. Fulfilled would be such an understatement for what he feels right now. Everything he ever wanted, everything he ever dreamed of, is served right in that room. He wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.

“So can I take a guess about what you wished for?”

“Really, Love?” He asked, putting down his glass of wine.

She shrugs, “We’ve talked about everything else, haven’t we?”

“You know, there’s a belief that if you say your prayers, it won’t happen.”

“Well, you’re not saying what it was, I’m just taking a guess what it’s about.” She argues, still persistent “And what’s so bad with it not happening? Do you really want it that bad?”

“I— Nothing, I just don’t—”

“What is it that you could wish for? What is it that you don’t have?”

“Nothing, I’m not saying that I want anything, I just—”

“Is it your family?”

Five pauses. It was as if he was stupefied. He hadn’t thought about his family in a while. Shameful of him, sure, but after one too many subway trips, he figured that a little rest shouldn’t be so bad. He just had to find a timeline where there weren't that many people shooting at him. Perhaps take a week or two to rest and gather his strength before jumping into another subway.

It just had to be her. The girl he bumped into right after he got out of the station. He remembers vividly the concerned look on her face when she saw him. He was littered with bruises, dirt and dust covering his body. He looked more like trouble than a lover yet she still found it in her heart to ask if he needed any help.

And here he was, feeling the happiness in his heart wither as the thought of his family returned to his consciousness. He knew that the universe is cruel, that he couldn’t have the best of both worlds in this lifetime, that he had to choose between his lover or his family. Some nights he wonders if his family had succeeded in preventing another apocalypse without him. Some nights he wonders if his family had found a way to another timeline. Some nights he wonders if his family were still alive. But most nights he tried his best to ignore these wonders. His family must have found a way to stop the apocalypse, or at least escape another one.

Taking a deep breath, Five reaches for her hands. Guilt and regret were evident on her face. He knew that she didn’t mean to sound as cruel. Perhaps it was the wine that made their blood more sensitive or that the fatigue of the day had clouded their minds. Either way he knew that they both would be sorry when the morning came.

“I love you,” He starts gently “I love you more than anything in this and every timeline.”

A tear left her eye. It was painful. To love someone you know doesn’t belong to you. To desperately grasp into the moments you knew would end anytime soon. To selfishly stay in a relationship that was doom from the start. Neither of them deserved this, yet neither of them wanted to let go.

“It’s been six years, Five,” She reasoned “As much as I love you.. We can’t keep living like this.”

“Time works differently there, my love. Six years here might only mean a couple hours there.”

“That doesn’t make it any less wrong for you to stay. Those couple hours might be the most crucial hours for your family. They might be fighting for their lives right now, they might be dying, for all we know! You need to come back to them, Five. You have to.”

Five forces a laugh, “Wait, what are you saying?”

She remained silent. Her tears were falling, biting her lips to conceal her tremble. A bitter feeling is brewing in his stomach now.

“Your family needs you and—”

“Okay, stop,” He stood from his seat with an offended look “Are you breaking up with me? On my birthday?”

She looks away, unable to meet his eyes.

“Goodness, you can’t be serious.”

“What choice do we have, Five? One way or another, you’d have to go back to your family. They need you—”

“And you? You don’t need me anymore?”

Her jaw clenches, “That’s beside the point.”

“No, that is the whole point, actually,” He argues, this time coming close to her “I love you, alright? Why is it so wrong for me to want to be with the person that I love? I’ve lived more than a lifetime alone, why can’t I have someone for once?”

“You don’t belong in this timeline. I—”

“I belong with you,” He cuts in “It’s not the timeline that matters, it’s where you are. I belong with you.”

If there’s anything she loves most about Five other than his gentle and caring nature towards her, it would be how adamant he is once he’s set his mind into something. There’s no doubt in her heart about the genuinity of his words. But as much as she’s grateful and touched over it, she knew that they could only spend so long before the guilt eats them whole.

She lets go of his hands softly, placing them on his cheeks instead. She admires him. The beautiful man that’s now standing in front of her with his heart on his sleeves, announcing his devotion to her on the day when he’s supposed to be the one showered with attention and love. His eyes were glossy, clearly conflicted.

“I love you, Five,” She whispers, gently caressing his skin as if it was their last goodbye “But I can’t keep you here, I can’t. I can’t keep you from your family.”

Five looks defeated, silent.

“Don’t you want to know what happened to them? If they’re okay? If they’ve figured out how to stop the apocalypse? Don’t you want to know?”

“I— I don’t know.” He answers “What I know is that I want to be with you.”

“I’ll always be with you, Love,” She reassures, kissing his cheek “I might not understand how this whole different timelines work, but I know that whichever timeline it is, whatever universe we live in, I will always belong to you. I will always be with you.”

And he finally cries. His tears flowing and wetting her palms. His heart shatters, finally succumbing to the guilt he’s tried so hard to bury and forget. He misses his family, he wanted so badly to get back and pick up where he left off, but would it be worth it? Would leaving everything here be worth it? Would leaving her be worth it?

“We’ll find our way,” She reassures, pulling the broken man into her embrace “You’ll find me in your timeline. Maybe we’ll meet at the grocery store, or at a bar, or perhaps at another train station.”

Five chuckles a little, letting a shaky breath as he asks, “And if we don’t?”

“We will,” She says firmly, giving a little space between them so they could gaze into each other’s face “I’m too much of a troublemaker and you’re too much of a problem solver for us to not meet. It’ll be too hard to ignore each other with our nature, Love. We’re bound to meet each other, in any timeline, in any universe. Trust me.”

The boy forces a smile. He leans in, kissing his lover gently as if she’d burst into petals if he pushed too much. Her hold around his neck feels different. Like she wasn’t looking for support but giving one instead. He could feel her trembling a little as his hands pulled her closer by the waist. Her heart is breaking too, as much as his is, but they knew that it’s inevitable. It’s only a matter of time before time pulls them apart and it certainly would be much more painful then.

“I’ll find you,” He whispers “I promise.”

—-

Canada is certainly much colder than home. Five rubs his hands and blows some air to his palms in hope to gain some warmth, but it’s obvious that the only comfort he’ll find in this weather is to get in Viktor’s bar and ask for some drink. That is, if Diego could start the car and get them going.

“It says here that Viktor’s bar is only five minutes by foot,” Klaus says “Who wants to run to the bar with me?”

“No one is getting out of this car!” Diego says in frustration, irritatedly trying his best to start the engine “We’re going to get to his bar together, in this car. That’s the whole point of a family road trip. We go to the bar by car, not by foot!”

“Yes, but it’s freezing here, Diego! The heater is not even on!” Alison argues.

“Well, it won’t be unless the engine is on.”

“No shit, Luther,” Ben says “I vote to run.”

Lila raises her hand, “Second to run.”

“No! No one is getting out of this car!” Diego yells once more, hitting the steering wheel frustratedly “I just need to—”

And by God’s miracle, the engine turns back on. Though their trip would soon reach its main destination, the bicker done by the family persists. The coldness of Canadian weather and how the heater broke almost twenty kilometres ago has made the seven heads’ temper raise. They really need to get to Viktor’s bar before they start to kill each other.

“I’m out of here,” Five announce as the car gets into the parking space of the bar. He space jumped inside, finding himself on one of the empty stools “Good to see you, Viktor.”

“Five,” VIktor greets, a little startled but his smile grows “You’re here. Where are the others?”

“Still figuring their way out to get here. Can I get whiskey on rocks?”

“On it.”

Five taps on the wooden table as he waits for his drink. His heart was content, as much as it might mean now. Their plan to stop the apocalypse worked. Viktor managed to take the marigold off of Ben before the Cleanse happened and now they’re trying to get back or rebuild their life. For once they finally managed to stop the apocalypse from happening.

Right after they succeeded in preventing the cleanse, Five found himself running to the subway station. He could still feel his feet burning from how fast he tried to get back to the station, wanting to jump in the train and go back to her timeline, but once he got there, the station vanished. There was no trace of it, no matter how many times he tried to run around and look for it. The subway is gone. She is gone.

Perhaps it was the price he has to pay for saving the universe. One’s happiness in exchange for the lives of millions doesn’t seem to be a hard sacrifice to make, but it’s still a tough pill for him to swallow. He knew that she would be proud. That she would hug and kiss him for doing all the hard work in saving the world. But the more he thinks about it, the more it stings for such touch would only be as good as a dream now.

“You ordered whiskey on rocks?” A voice asked, breaking his train of thoughts.

Five’s mouth went agape. He couldn’t tell if he was daydreaming or if this was some sick new power he gained from the marigold, but she was there. Standing right in front of him with a glass of whiskey in her hand.

“Viktor said his brother ordered whiskey on rocks, I assume that’s you?”

“I— Uh, yes,” He stammers, getting off the stool “You’re here.”

Five couldn’t believe his eyes. In his heart he knew that they would meet again, that somehow the universe would let him keep both her and his family, but he never expected that it was true. He never expected that he would meet her again. Not this fast, not this way.

“Sorry?” She asks, raising an eyebrow “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yes. Yes, I’m fine,” Five said, shaking his head and taking the glass “Thank you.”

The girl smiles. It was a different smile than what he’s used to seeing. There wasn’t much love in her eyes, but he wasn’t in the position to complain. The girl he’s staring at and his lover might be the same person but she’s yet to know him here. She’s yet to know that he’s hers. She’s yet to know that he loves her. She’s yet to know that he belongs to her.

“Sorry, but have we met before?” She asks, still staring back at him “You look very familiar.”

“Uh, no, I don’t think so,” He lied, offering his hand “I’m Five. Five Hargreeves. Viktor’s brother.”

She took his hand, telling him her name, “I didn’t know Viktor had a baby brother.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not really his baby brother. It’s— It’s complicated.” Five could feel his cheeks burning like a little boy, bashful “It’s a long story.”

“You mind telling me about it?” She asks, leaning on the table “I’ve got time. I love hearing stories.”

“I know you do,” He says with a big smile “Well, where do I start..”

[annewithaneofthegreengable]

Kinktober - Day 1

1st — phone sex, Lando Norris

The next day I Kinktober masterlist I Main list

You were just about to get into bed when your phone buzzed on the nightstand. You pick it up and see it’s a text from your boyfriend Lando. He’s been away following the calendar of a triple header for two weeks, and he still has one more to go, and you miss him more and more every day. 

Hey, gorgeous.

Just as you’re about to respond, another comes through. 

I can’t stop thinking about you. You’ve been on my mind all day.

Your heart swells at the message. You know Lando is way out of your league. He could have anyone he wants, and it makes you so happy that he chose you. And before you could send him the text back, he called you. 

“Hello,” you grin. 

“Hey, cutie, what’re you up to?” 

“Hey, yeah… I was just reading a book. Did you get back to the hotel?” You let out a chuckle.

“Yes, you know how media day is spent, god, I’m so tired right now. Just wanna see you, love.”

You bite your lip. “You know, if you came home, I could help you loosen up.” Lando doesn’t say anything for a moment, but his voice becomes low and soft.

“Oh, could you, now? Am I missing out on anything?”

“Not yet,” you say, biting your finger with a smirk.

“In that case… what’re you thinking about?”

“You, didn’t I say that? Just come home I miss you” You whined as you laid on the bed, phone to your ear as you stared at the ceiling.

“I wish I could but it looks like this is gonna take longer than expected” You rolled your eyes in annoyance wishing he could just catch the first plane home.

“But I haven’t seen you in forever and it’s been so long since you’ve touched me” You smiled when you heard Lando groan. It wasn’t normal for you two to go this long without physical contact, “I’ve been doing it by myself but it’s not that same”

You let out a breathy sigh as your hand travelled between your legs, your fingers ever so gently teasing your clit through the thin fabric of your lace panties

Lando bit his lip, feeling himself get hard at the thought of you touching yourself, “is that why you called me? You want to hear my voice while you touch yourself”

You moaned, “Please baby I need you” Your voice was desperate, filled with lust. Lando took a deep breath, laying on the bed in his hotel room, his hands moving to palm the growing erection that was straining against his jeans, “Pull your panties down and finger yourself, I wanna hear just how wet you are”

You quickly obeyed, tossing your underwear across the room as you put the phone on speaker. The wet noise of you fingering yourself filled the room, sounding downright pornographic. Lando groaned, unzipping his jeans and pulling his cock out to stroke the length.

“Lando” You moaned loudly, your hips grinding against your fingers as you fucked yourself. 

“You can get louder than that,” Lando moaned, “Rub your clit and say my name baby come on”

Your back arched as you started circling your clit with one hand while the other repeatedly hit your g-spot. You were close, the sound of Lando’s moans made you even more needy as your fingers moved faster. 

“Lando I’m gonna cum” You whined as you felt your stomach get tense, your hips bucking off the bed. “Cum for me baby” Lando moaned, one hand moving to palm his balls as he pumped his cock faster. You came with a loud moan, cumming all over your fingers.

Lando let out a breathy groan as his cum shot out onto his shirt, “Fuck baby I’m coming home as fast as I can so I can fuck you properly” 

You chuckled, putting your fingers in your mouth to lick your cum off of them, “I’ll hold you to that”

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[sttoru]

satoru hums a tune as he adjusts his sunglasses — putting them on the top of his head. he’s in a happy mood today; nothing or no one could wipe that big grin off his face. the reason?

“. . . gojo, hurry up.” megumi calls out whilst idly standing at the foot of the staircase that connected to the roads outside campus.

you smile as you see your lover gleefully walk down the stairs — jumping from one to the other. satoru’s smile was one you wish would never fade. ever.

“oh!” the white-haired sorcerer suddenly stops in his tracks. his sparkling eyes take in the sight before him and his heart skipped a beat at the realisation:

two of his favourite people were standing next to each other. waiting for him so they could go on their little (family) trip. satoru just had to capture this moment and put it in the album that’s dedicated to the both of you. it’s a must in his eyes.

“megumiiii,” satoru fishes his phone out of his pocket and puts it in landscape mode, tongue peeking out at the corner of his lips to show just how deeply he was concentrating on getting the perfect shot, “step a bit closer—yep! jus’ like that!”

“can we not do this? we’re gonna miss the train and—” megumi starts off with a sigh and a faint embarrassed pout, though was quickly cut off as you pulled him closer to your body — coddling him like he was still the little child satoru and you had met a couple years back.

the blue haired boy sighs once again, however eventually gives in and awkwardly puts up a peace sign. you smile brightly in return and satoru was absolutely cheesing behind his phone.

“awwww, how adorable!” satoru grins once he has taken about twenty different pictures — each one special and a treasure he will forever cherish. after putting the best one as his phone’s new lock screen, he rushes down the stairs and steps in-between megumi and you.

one arm holds your body close to his by the waist, the other arm wraps around megumi’s shoulders. megumi reluctantly allows it since he didn’t want to ruin the light-hearted atmosphere. that fact alone makes satoru even happier;

“let’s go — i can’t wait to finally spend some quality time with two of my favourite people, hehe.”

[levanterhaze]

GAMEBOY — BANGCHAN

♡  ― 󠀬󠀬 fratboy!bangchan x f!reader this one is just pure angst and drama, no smut, just teasing each other like two idiots.

♡ synopsis ― Bangchan is the campus playboy—charming, cocky, and infuriatingly irresistible. One reckless, drunken night leads to a secret you swore you'd never have. Now, hating him is harder than keeping him your dirty little secret.

[ 5.7k words ]♡― i had to continue this fic in a 2nd part, i felt necessary. maybe i'll continue it in a few more chapters (PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP ON ME) and thank you thank you thank you to everyone who has commented and appreciated this piece. it means a lot to a person who is non-native english wrt. without further ado, have a good read, loves!

♡― THE PLAYLIST.

♡ [part one]

you’re so indecisive of what I’m saying tryna catch the beat, make up your heart don't know if you're happy or complaining don't want for us to end, where do I start?

The pounding in your head was a testament to last night’s choices. Aspirin was non-negotiable. You could hear Eunji and Sohee's voices from the living room and were surprised that both of them were already awake after their all-nighter.

After leaving the room with Bangchan—because, of course, that happened—you ducked into the bathroom, shot off a text about vomiting and existential regret, and decided to make a graceful exit. Well, as graceful as one could manage after wild sex with the person you’d sworn to hate forever. Pride was nowhere in the equation, but who cared?

As soon as your eyes saw daylight, Eunji and Sohee looked at you judgmentally. You froze in your tracks, still wearing pink Hello Kitty jammies like a monument to your shame. Their judgment was immediate, sharp as a blade. Your heart sped up.

“You’re alive,” Sohee deadpanned, taking a bite of a cinnamon roll. “And looking like shit.”

“Appreciate it,” you shot back, throwing yourself into a chair. “Really warms the soul.”

Eunji’s smoothie slurp was unnecessarily loud, drilling straight into your skull. “We thought about waking you for breakfast but figured you’d need the recovery time.”

You dismissed the idea with a hand wave. "That's okay. Wouldn’t have gotten up anyway.”

"We can have lunch together, if you like. I really need a detox after last night." Sohee curled her lips into a grimace and you almost smiled. Detox advice from Sohee was peak irony.

But then Eunji, ever the chaos-bringer, dropped the bomb. “Oh my God, you guys, I heard the craziest thing last night! Jiwoon—my lit classmate—said he walked in on someone having super loud sex at the party. Guess who it was? Bangchan!”

Your heart plummeted straight into your stomach.

Silence remained and Sohee raised her eyebrows at Eunji.

“Apparently, the guy is a structural hazard,” Sohee chimed in, amused. “Minho said he once broke a floorboard. Who even does that?” Your red-haired friend says giggling.

Eunji giggled. “The girl’s lucky. If Bangchan wrecked me, I’d consider it an honor.”

You summoned your most convincing disdain, rolling your eyes with the energy of someone deeply unimpressed. “Honestly, can we not make him sound like some sort of deity?”

But guilt clung to you like a second skin, mingling with vivid flashes of last night—the furniture banging against the wall, Bangchan’s muscles taut as he tried to steady it. The memory burned, searing and humiliating, until Eunji’s voice yanked you back to reality.

The memory faded like mist when Eunji said it again. "Anyway, the girl’s lucky. I wish I was knocked down by Bangchan."

Lucky. That’s what they’d call you if they knew. Lucky—and a traitor to everything you’d loudly professed about hating him. They didn’t know it was you, and you intended to keep it that way.

From the tone of the chat, Jiwoon didn't see who was in the room with Bangchan, which means he didn't know you were the girl. Trying to ignore the talking and the sweat growing on your hands, you got up and declared that you were going to take a shower and maybe run some laps around the athletics track, because you really needed some fresh air.

The dorm felt claustrophobic. Eunji and Sohee were your best friends and you felt awful for not telling them the truth.

These were your best friends, but the truth felt like a grenade you couldn’t risk dropping. For months, you’d built your personality around despising Bangchan, and now? One night had unraveled it all.

Worst of all? You couldn’t stop replaying every second of it—and how much you’d loved it.

Sex had always been an exercise in mediocrity. Your exes? Predictably average, hitting the bare minimum on their way to their own finish line. As for finding the clitoris? Let’s just say they navigated like someone using a map upside down—an unsurprising disappointment every single time.

Now, though, Bangchan was something else entirely. A campus legend with a reputation as vast as it was unshakable. Everyone knew about his conquests—more women than you had fingers to count. Every rumor you’d rolled your eyes at turned out to be painfully, thrillingly true. He was better than anything you could have imagined.

Even after a long shower, his touch lingered, like phantom fingerprints etched into your skin. You could still feel him, every moment replaying in a maddening loop. No one had ever made you come twice in one night. No one. That fact alone made him unforgettable—and insufferably smug, no doubt.

Pulling on comfortable clothes, you grabbed a bag, stuffed in some essentials, and checked your phone. The group chat was overflowing with photos and messages from last night’s chaos, but you scrolled past all of it. There was only one person you needed right now.

You: Up for a morning run?

The reply came in under two minutes.

Hyunjin: It’s two in the afternoon. You: Morning for me. Hyunjin: Fine. Be there in five.

You tossed your phone into your bag and took a deep breath. A run was exactly what you needed—to burn off this restless energy and, hopefully, forget how guilty you felt.

You found Hyunjin on the running track near the outdoor field, surrounded by lush greenery and bursts of flowers the campus meticulously maintained. He looked effortlessly good, of course—baggy clothes hanging just right, dark hair falling over his face like it had been styled by the gods.

You started running side by side, silence settling between you. It was comfortable but heavy, like a bubble that needed popping. The kiss was the unspoken elephant on the track, but Hyunjin, ever observant, didn’t push. Not yet.

The day was crisp, the kind of weather that made you feel invincible. You poured your focus into your pace, and before you knew it, you’d pulled ahead. “Okay, okay—hold up,” Hyunjin called, his voice carrying just enough humor to make you smirk.

You stopped a few strides ahead, spinning on your heel to face him. He sauntered toward you, not even winded, like running was merely a mild inconvenience.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” he said, his tone playful but probing.

“There’s nothing to tell,” you countered, already feeling your resolve falter.

“Uh-huh.” He stopped in front of you, his gaze narrowing. “Then why, exactly, did you ask me to kiss you last night?”

Well. There it was. No escaping now.

You shrugged, trying to play it cool as you grabbed the water bottle from your bag. “I was... needy, I guess.”

Hyunjin raised a brow, crossing his arms like he wasn’t buying it. “Needy, huh?”

“Look,” you said, exhaling sharply, “I’m sorry if it made things weird. You’re my best friend, and the last thing I want is for that to get messed up.”

“Relax,” he said, grinning as he ran a hand through his hair. “A kiss isn’t going to scare me off. You’re stuck with me.”

His easy laugh melted some of your tension, but before you could respond, he clapped his hands together with mock seriousness. “Tell you what—first one to the other side of campus owes the winner a banana milk.”

The sudden challenge caught you off guard, and you raised a brow. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he said, already turning on his heel to start jogging backward. “Unless you’re too scared.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you bolted after him. “You’re so on.”

You lost the run, but of course, Hyunjin still paid for the drink. That summed him up as a friend.

After he dashed off to rehearse with Felix—because apparently, everyone else was rehearsing but you—a thought hit you like a lightbulb flickering to life. Rumors? Easy to spread. But if you wanted to get ahead of them, you had to go straight to the source.

With a mission in mind, you swaggered toward the gym where the basketball team was practicing. It wasn’t exactly classified info—every girl on campus could probably tell you when and where their training sessions were. You zipped your jacket up to your chin like it was some sort of emotional armor, grabbed your water bottle for moral support, and marched down the corridors. The door to the gym was already cracked open, and as you pushed it, everything seemed to slow down in the most dramatic way.

The guys were running drills, their shoes squeaking on the court like a broken record. The noise grated on your nerves, but you weren’t here for the sound; you were here for the spectacle. The stands were dotted with girls, some wrapped up in their player-boyfriend fantasies, while others... Well, who knows what they were thinking. You didn’t care. You had your eyes on the real prize today.

There he was, standing out like a sore thumb. His black and white uniform somehow looked too good on him. Focus, girl. You hid behind the staircase, crouched like a sneaky little spy, waiting for the game to wrap up.

It took nearly ten minutes, but eventually, the whistle blew. You adjusted your posture, trying to act casual, though you were definitely still paying attention to how the sweat trickled down Bangchan's forehead. It brought you war flashbacks. When the players scattered to grab towels and water, you took your cue to appear from behind the bleachers, giving a quick, awkward wave before ducking back again.

Bangchan's eyes scanned the area, and when they landed on you, his brows shot up in surprise.  In the meantime, he did the inevitable: he took off his shirt and used it to get dry. Great. Just great.

"Did you come to watch?" He smirked, that cocky grin of his. "Didn't know you were into basketball."

You rolled your eyes. His ability to flirt in every situation was almost impressive.

"Ha-ha. No." You sucked in a breath, desperately trying to obey your brain's commands. Don't look down. Don’t you dare look down. "Actually, I came to ask for a favor."

He leaned against the wall, eyebrow quirked, looking amused. "Okay...?"

“Right. I want what happened yesterday to stay a secret.”

Bangchan's eyebrow arched higher, an expression of entertained disbelief crossing his face. He crossed his arms, flexing those muscles in a way that made the mission of not looking at them impossible.

“'You think I'm going around saying we fucked?"

You roll your eyes, frustration building up, and clench your hand into a fist. Sure, say it louder, let the world know.

“Isn't that exactly what you do? Brag about your sexual life?”

The boy nodded, puffing out his chest, he shot back. "Ever heard me brag about it?"

“I don't need to hear it from you. The campus does it for you.” It was infuriating how this worked out. Everyone thought Bangchan was the type of guy, praising his victories and glorifying him every time he got between some girl's pants. 

Meanwhile, girls were severely censured for even kissing a guy at a party.

"Right. So you're just going off what people say about me?" His tone was challenging, like he couldn’t care less.

In a long drawn-out sigh, you fidgeted with your hands, intending to put the matter to one side. "Can you just keep this between us? I don't want anyone to know."

"Whatever, it's no big deal," he replied nonchalantly, shrugging. "If it's that important to you."

The words stung more than they should have. It wasn’t just the lack of care, it was the way he made it sound like it didn’t matter. No big deal. It hurt your pride, even if you didn’t mean it to. But that was Bangchan, wasn’t it? Haughty and self-righteous. Yeah, he was great in bed, but his attitude? Utterly shitty.

“Thanks.” You said it briefly, biting down your pride and leaving the scene as fast as you could. Speaking to him seemed like a fool's errand, but you couldn't risk it.

Behind you, Bangchan pursed his lips into a thin line, watching you go. To him, you were hopeless—always on guard, never letting your walls down. He knew he was right, even if it was a thin line. Sure, it was fun to rile you up, but it was maddening that you hated him for things he hadn’t even done.

Getting you to change your mind, though? That was the challenge. But if that’s what it took, he was more than willing to play the long game.

Early next week. Only Tuesday, and auditions loomed just a day away. You’d been agonizing over the perfect solo—one that wouldn’t just get you a role but the role. Monday was a blur of brainstorming with Hyunjin and Seungmin, your trusted theater comrades. Between swapping notes, debating song choices, and plenty of eye rolls, you managed to help each other refine your audition pieces. It was productive. Chaotic, but productive.

Your last hour of the day belonged to the theater, and it was sacred. The stage wasn’t just a place; it was a state of mind. The second the music hit, the world faded. Bills, homework, exes who ghosted you—it all melted away. Up there, you weren’t just alive; you were electric. It wasn’t just a hobby; it was instinct.

Your mom used to say you were born for the stage. She loved telling the story of how, as a kid, you’d belt out The Little Mermaid soundtrack so often the neighbors probably debated filing a noise complaint. Singing “Part of Your World” at the top of your lungs? A daily ritual. But the first time you sang for real—no plastic microphone, no stuffed animal audience—it clicked.

This was more than a passion. It was home.

Since high school, your hunger for the stage—and the spotlight—was insatiable. If there was a club, you wanted in. University was no different. People noticed you, not just for your knack for hitting sharp, glass-shattering high notes, but for your versatility. You could slip from sweet soprano to soulful belter faster than a drama major running late to class. On stage, you were magnetic.

Everyone gathered on stage, and Mrs. Baek appeared a few moments later with her round glasses and wavy hair around her face. Her figure was solid and powerful, as was her voice and knowledge.

But today, something was off. The crease on her forehead gave her away before she said a word. It was like a ripple of unease spread across the stage, and you didn’t miss a beat. You were already bracing for the bad news.

Then, a slim figure in a long skirt and boots strode into the center of the circle, sighing like she’d just carried the weight of the world—and maybe she had. “Okay, kids. Listen up.” Every pair of eyes locked onto her as if she were delivering the prophecy of doom. “We’re postponing the auditions. Indefinitely.”

Her announcement hit like a gut punch, and the stage erupted into chaos. Whispers turned to complaints, and complaints turned to full-blown outrage. Seungmin cast a skeptical glance at Mrs. Baek, then at you and Hyunjin, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

What the hell was going on?

“All right, settle down,” Mrs. Baek said, slipping her glasses off and pinching the bridge of her nose with that practiced mix of authority and exhaustion only she could pull off. “Jun-ho, our sound engineer, has officially dropped out of college. And to make matters worse, the university has decided to cut funding for the theater department in favor of... sports.”

“You're shitting me.” Nahee’s voice sliced through the commotion like a whip. She quickly caught herself, mumbling, “Sorry... but seriously—”

“That’s so unfair!” another voice chimed in from the back, frustration rippling through the group like a shockwave. “Basketball and soccer aren’t the only things this university has going for it.”

“I get it, kids. Believe me, I tried.” Mrs. Baek’s tone softened, but her words were anything but comforting. “I went to the administration, pleaded our case... But unless we can find enough volunteers and funding, I’m afraid auditions are canceled. Indefinitely.”

It felt like a cruel joke. The theater had always been your sanctuary, the one place where you could shed your armor and just be. And now? It was slipping through your fingers.

When Mrs. Baek dismissed the group, some students stormed out in anger, others lingered, trying to process what had just happened. For you, Hyunjin, and Seungmin, the next logical step was the canteen. Food couldn’t fix this, but it was something.

“This is absurd. Now we're all supposed to close our eyes and applaud this nonsense?” Seungmin boomed as the three of you walked to the canteen. It was packed every day, regardless of the time of the day.

At a table outside, you spotted Sohee and Minho. Eunji, Changbin, Felix and Bangchan.

Just when you thought your day couldn't get any worse...

“Tell me about it, I'm so pissed off!” Everyone looked at you, hearing loud and clear about your discontent. All three of you pulled up a chair and you sat down facing Changbin.

“Someone's jumpy.” Sohee leaned across the table. “What's wrong? You three look like shit.”

“It turns out the university cut the theater’s funding in favor of sports.” Your voice was sharp, and your glare shot directly at Bangchan, who was busy texting like the world wasn’t crumbling around him. He looked up, one eyebrow raised in confusion, as if you’d just accused him of single-handedly ruining the arts.

You looked away, rage bubbling in your veins.

“That sucks.” Felix shot back with a supportive smile. “I know how important the theater is to you guys.”

“Everyone’s been working so hard,” Seungmin muttered, sinking into his chair like the weight of the news had finally crushed him. “It’s just... unfair.”

A heavy silence settled over the table, broken only by the sound of Bangchan’s nails tapping on his phone screen. You glanced his way, the sight of him completely disengaged making your blood boil.

“Is there nothing we can do?” Eunji twisted her lips, hopeful.

“Car wash?” Changbin suggested with a mischievous grin. “Classic fundraiser, right?”

“Sure,” you shot back, deadpan, “let’s exploit women for the sake of art.” Your glare could’ve leveled him then and there. Changbin leaned back in his chair, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“Okay, fine. What about food?” Sohee jumped in, glancing at Minho for support. “Muffins, cupcakes, something simple. People love that stuff.”

Hyunjin's face lights up like a light bulb. “Felix makes brownies. Amazing brownies.”

Felix smirked, shrugging like it was no big deal. “I don’t wanna brag, but they’re basically legendary.”

“Alright, then.” Changbin grinned, pointing a finger gun between Felix and you. “You two make the brownies. And we,” he motioned to himself and Bangchan, “sell them.”

You and Bangchan exchange glances for a millisecond.

“I’ve got the perfect idea,”  he says, a wicked smile slipping from his lips.

You raise an eyebrow, laughing. “What? Are you going to sell brownies naked around campus?”

The grin widened, and that’s when you knew you should’ve kept your mouth shut.

“That’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

Felix had assured you he could handle everything, but your stubbornness wouldn’t let you sit this one out. If it was for the theater, you were all in. He handed over his famous brownie recipe like it was a national secret.

So, on Thursday, you got hands-on. Literally.

Eunji had come through with the shopping, and soon your dorm looked like a war zone—chocolate smudges on the counters, flour dusting the floor, and batter splattered in places you couldn’t quite explain. You only had a cramped space and a big dream of pulling this off.

You were just pouring the batter into a pan when a sharp knock at the door startled you. Wiping your hands on your skirt, you swung it open, expecting maybe Eunji or Hyunjin. Instead, there stood Bangchan, leaning casually against the door frame like he had nowhere else to be.

“Uh… hello?” You blinked, your brow furrowing. “What are you doing here?”

Bangchan stood back for a second, observing how exceptionally good you looked.

“So… newsflash,” he started, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You might wanna double that recipe.”

Confusion flashed across your eyes. “What do you mean?”

He straightened up, clearly enjoying your puzzled reaction. “I may have the entire basketball team to help out with the sale.”

Your jaw dropped as his words sank in. “You what?”

His grin widened at your disbelief. “You heard me. More hands, more sales. I figured we could use the hype.”

It was insane. But it was also brilliant. A rush of excitement shot through you, lighting up your face. “That’s… that’s fantastic!” you blurted, beaming before instinctively biting your lip to rein in your enthusiasm.

Bangchan tilted his head, his smirk softening into something almost genuine. “Thought you’d like that.”

“Oh, shit. I'll tell Felix, we're going to need an extra oven.” You walked over to the coffee table, where your phone was.

Before you could dial, Bangchan’s voice cut through your focus. “You shouldn’t go there.” He was still standing in the doorway, arms crossed, his expression surprisingly earnest. “It’s a mess. Like, biohazard-level chaos.” You lose heart, trying to think of another alternative. “You can use my dorm. If you want.” He quickly adds the last sentence.

Your stomach dropped at the suggestion. The idea of stepping into Bangchan’s dorm felt like walking into enemy territory. Risky. Dangerous. Not worth the potential fallout. “It’s fine,” you said, waving him off. “I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about it.”

But Bangchan leaned against the doorframe, his smirk resurfacing. “You sure? There are a lot of brownies to bake, and I don’t think you’ve got all night.”

As much as you hated to admit it, he wasn’t wrong. Time was slipping through your fingers like sand, and with the entire basketball team now involved, efficiency was critical. “Fine,” you muttered, hating the way the word tasted in your mouth. “But only if you help.”

“You don't have to ask twice.”

It turned out Bangchan’s “help” involved more than just offering his kitchen. He insisted on carrying every utensil, baking sheet, and ingredient across campus himself, as though showing off how capable he was. By the time you arrived at his so-called dorm, you’d pieced together another puzzle about him.

Rich, but not obnoxiously so. Still, his “dorm” was more like a chic little apartment, complete with a full kitchen, two bedrooms, and sleek decor that screamed privilege. The space was annoyingly Bangchan—polished, put together, and just distant enough to be intriguing.

“Cool place.” You muttered after he closed the door behind you. Scanning the room and trying not to sound impressed.

“Thanks.” he gave you a smile. “So, this is the kitchen.” He motioned to a modern setup that looked like it belonged in a Food Network show. Top class stuff. “Make yourself at home.”

“Thanks,” you replied, slipping your hands into your pockets. “Not just for the space but… you know, for helping.”

It was obvious that he was making this effort because the theater was important to his friends Seungmin and Hyunjin. Why else would he do all this? Still, you appreciated it.

His lips twitched into a grin. “Wow. Didn’t think I’d ever hear you say that.” 

You rolled your eyes, biting back the retort bubbling at your tongue. Play nice. He’s helping. 

“Relax,” he added, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Just kidding. There’s booze in the fridge, by the way. Help yourself.”

“I’m fine, thanks,” you said, sidestepping the offer.

“I’ve gotta sort something out with the coach,” he said, grabbing his phone. “I’ll be back in 20. Think you’ll survive here alone?”

Honestly, being in his apartment without him sounded like the best possible scenario. You gave a small nod. “Yeah, no worries.”

With that, he left, and the door clicked shut behind him. You exhaled, a long breath that carried the weight of the past few days. Now you were in enemy territory, surrounded by his world, and somehow, that felt far more personal than it should.

How had this become your life? Baking brownies in Bangchan’s kitchen? It was almost as absurd as sleeping with him—a mistake you’d promised yourself you’d never make. But here you were, crossing one forbidden line after another.

You weren’t exactly a disaster in the kitchen, but you weren’t a pro either. Somehow, though, in thirty minutes flat, four trays of brownies were baking away in Bangchan’s fancy oven. The rest of the kitchen, however, looked like a war zone. Eggshells piled in the sink. Flour scattered across the floor. Chocolate batter smeared on your shirt. Your skirt? A masterpiece of handprints from raw dough. But hey, it was all for the sake of art—and funding.

While you whisked and poured, you couldn’t resist turning on your favorite song, What Is This Feeling from Wicked. Singing along word for word, you hit every high note with a grin. That song had landed you the role of Glinda in high school, and the nostalgia hit you square in the chest. Those were good times. Simpler times.

The chorus was still ringing in your ears as you crouched to scrub a stubborn chocolate stain on the floor. That’s when the door swung open, and Bangchan walked in, freezing mid-step as he surveyed the chaos.

“Holy shit. Are you all right?” he asked, his tone somewhere between amusement and genuine concern.

Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest as you scrambled to turn off the music. In your rush, your phone slipped from your flour-dusted hands and landed on the counter with a soft thud. You straightened, cheeks flushing. “I’m fine,” you said quickly, brushing your hands on your already-ruined skirt. “Sorry about the mess. I’ll clean it up, I promise.”

He looked around, clearly trying to hold back a laugh. His eyes flicked from the chaotic kitchen to you, taking in the state of your clothes. “You’ve got something… there,” he said, gesturing vaguely at the chocolate smear on your shoulder.

“It’s fine,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze. “As soon as I’m done here, I’ll head back to the dorm and clean this up.”

Bangchan tilted his head, clearly unimpressed with your plan. “I can lend you a shirt. Might make you feel more comfortable.”

“No, no. I’m fine,” you said, waving him off. “But thanks.”

He rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath. Then, without hesitation, he reached behind his neck and yanked off the black shirt he was wearing, leaving him in nothing but his jeans and a devilish grin. “Here,” he said, holding the shirt out to you like it was the most casual thing in the world.

You blinked, completely caught off guard. “You know you could’ve just grabbed another shirt, right? Like, one you’re not currently wearing?”

He leaned in slightly, the grin widening in a way that made your stomach flip. “And where’s the fun in that?”

For a moment, you just stood there, staring at him, equal parts annoyed and flustered. His shirt hung in the air between you, a silent dare. Finally, you snatched it from his hand, muttering, “You’re impossible.”

“I’ve been told,” he replied, unbothered, and strolled over to the counter like he hadn’t just walked into the kitchen half-dressed.

After a few minutes, you walked back into the kitchen, now wearing Bangchan’s shirt. It hung a little loose on you, the soft fabric brushing against your skin and carrying a mix of fresh laundry and whatever cologne he used. Not that you noticed. Much.

Bangchan was at the sink, scrubbing a mixing bowl. His back was to you at first, but when he turned around, his gaze lingered a second too long before he coughed and looked back down. “Did you know,” he started, shaking his head with a teasing grin, “that you’re officially the world’s clumsiest cook? There’s brownie batter... under the sink.”

You glanced at the cabinet beneath the counter, then back at him. “Hey, I said I’d clean up,” you defended, marching into the kitchen with your head held high. “And for the record, I never claimed to be a good cook. I’m just trying to help.”

Bangchan barked out a laugh, drying his hands on a towel. “Help? No fucking way. You’re a disaster, love.”

You froze, raising an eyebrow at him. “Excuse me?” You crossed your arms, the oversized sleeves of his shirt only slightly undermining your indignation. “I didn’t see you stepping up to bake anything.. Let’s see you handle a whisk without breaking something.”

He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, clearly enjoying himself. “Trust me, I’d still be better than whatever chaos you’ve got going on here.”

Your lips quirked into a slow smirk, and you reached for the bag of flour on the counter. “Oh yeah? Well, let’s see you handle this.” Before he could react, you scooped a handful of flour and tossed it right at him, the fine powder exploding across his chest like a smoke bomb.

Bangchan froze for a second, blinking down at the mess. Then, his lips curved into a wicked grin that should have been your warning. “Oh, it’s on now.”

With your hands on your lip, you realized that you had fucked up. “I'm sorry, I...”

Too late. In the blink of an eye, Bangchan scooped up the sugar and poured it all over your hair. You stared, half-shocked, half-impressed by his audacity. You parted your lips to fire back, but before a word could escape, the sound of his laughter erupted from deep in his chest.

“Really? Is this how it’s gonna go?” You grabbed the cocoa powder with a grin. Oh, he wanted a war? You were so ready. “Bring it on,” you shot back, face lighting up with mischief. 

You were almost halfway to smearing him with chocolate when his hand shot out and stopped yours midair. The cocoa slipped through your fingers, and just like that, your plan hit the ground.

Then, you collided—chest to chest. Bangchan wasn’t laughing anymore, and you could feel the shift in the air, the heat between you two now undeniable. His lips curled into that damn smirk, the one that told you everything. Your heart was racing, but the thought of pulling away didn’t even cross your mind. The only question now was who was going to make the first move.

A silent battle passed between you two. His gaze locked onto yours, sensing the shift in your expression—less defiant, more... willing. And just like that, the tension morphed into something else, something undeniable.

Without hesitation, you leaned in, your lips brushing his. Bangchan’s breath hitched, a soft grunt escaping him at the sudden contact. Your hands, still coated with the remnants of your baking disaster, slid over his broad shoulders. You were a mess, sugar and flour everywhere, but somehow, it made everything feel a little more real. And Bangchan? He didn’t seem to mind one bit.

All he seemed to care about was having your lips on his. And fuck, you could feel how much he wanted it.

Bangchan grabbed your ass possessively, squeezing it and making a raspy moan escape your lips. You pushed him against the wall, without detaching your lips, savoring how the softness of his lips felt like cotton candy.

When you finally broke away, your chests heaving, your fingers still pressed into his skin, you met his gaze. His chest rose and fell beneath your touch, and you could feel the pull between you intensify again, magnetic.

“I should probably clean up this mess.” your voice broke the tension, but the realization hit harder than it should’ve. Bangchan was clearly fed up with your habit of diving in and then ghosting the consequences. 

“Don’t you dare.” his voice was low, the words like a command you weren’t about to ignore. His eyes locked with yours—intense. “You want this.” his lips brushed against yours, a tease that made your heart leap, while his words hung heavy in the air. “I know you do.”

Your pulse thundered in your ears, drowning out everything but him.

“Bangchan.” You whispered, barely able to breathe. The heat from his hardness spread like wildfire, and your body seemed to betray you. “We can’t.” you licked your lips—stupid, because he was already there, sealing your protest with a sloppy kiss, stealing that last ounce of restraint.

You were losing it. Why did he have to be so... goddamn good at this?

“Oh yeah?” he pulled away, just enough to make you regret the distance. “Tell me one good reason. Just one.”

You snorted, doing everything you could to hold it together, but the pull between you was undeniable. “Please.”

He tilted his head, lips twitching like he wanted to argue, but instead he closed his eyes and muttered a curse under his breath. “Fine,” he grumbled, walking away, but the air between you two still crackled.

The rest of the kitchen cleanup was like some strange form of punishment. You moved in sync, two people acting like they hadn’t just burned down every ounce of decorum in the room. The silence was deafening, the kind of awkward that made you wish you could pull the floor open and swallow you whole. But instead, you just scrubbed harder, hoping it’d drown out the thundering thoughts in your head.

He pulled away, no jokes, no teasing—just silence. It was like a switch had flipped, and the tension that had once sparked between you now lay dormant, suffocating. You didn't know if you hated the quiet or if you hated yourself more for letting things go as far as they had.

When everything was finally done, he still helped you carry your things to the dorm, his touch lingering just a little too long as he adjusted the bag over your shoulder. You were too busy battling the whirlwind of your own thoughts, replaying every moment, every look, and cursing both him and yourself for what you’d just crossed into.

You hated how easy it had been. How natural. And you hated even more that you couldn’t quite bring yourself to regret it—at least, not yet.

♡ taglist ― @kenia4 @chrizrizz @meerabmalik

[mayanneaa]

nights like this - ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ.

PAIRING : rafe cameron x kook!reader

SUMMARY : everything between you and rafe changes after one stupid birthday party.

WARNING(S) : drinking, smoking, swearing, kinda allusions to drunk driving please do NOT DO THAT EVER, not proofread

A/N : woahh rafe angst coming from me??? also ignore the shitty message thing I'm doing this on my laptop lmaoo (divider by @roseraris)

WC : 2.4k

part 2, “sparkling” out now! find it here

masterlist.

"Babe, c'mon!"

Sarah's practically jumping with excitement as she's leading you to the front door of Tanney Hill. People are spilling out of the house, most already holding a drink or two.

You hear them congratulating you as you pass by, sending them smiles from eye to eye.

Sarah insisted that you should have a big party for this year's birthday. And, be honest, how could you resist?

You two enter the house and crash into Kelce and Rafe almost immediately.

"Well, the birthday girl is here!" Kelce's first to hug you, and you giggle over his shoulder.

When you look up, your eyes rest on Rafe. He looks as good as always— this time, a grin plastered to his lips as he glances at you.

Kelce pulls away, and it's Rafe's turn. He wraps his arms around your waist, leaning down to rest his chin on your shoulder, and the strong smell of sandalwood surrounds your face.

"You look beautiful," he whispers in a low, raspy voice beside your ear.

You’re almost sure he saw the glimpse of your cheeks reddening. And tonight, you don’t even care. It was your night. No stupid feelings can ruin it. Or, at least that’s what you thought.

It’s been like this forever— you’ve known Rafe since you were little, and he’s always been charming.

At first, it was simple things, just like kids would do.

He was letting you hang around, even though you were a bit younger than him. He’d always hold your hand while you were getting on the boat. After some years, you didn’t need any help, but these little moments were yours to keep.

You didn’t notice the moment Rafe started to get more handsome in your eyes, more like… boyfriend material.

It just happened. And after some time, you couldn’t deny it. Something was pulling you to Rafe Cameron.

“Well, see you around, ‘kay? Happy birthday.” Rafe speaks again, and you step back. His touch lingers on your hips before he nods to his sister and follows Kelce to a different part of the house.

You turn around to Sarah, only to see a suggestive look on her face. Her brows are raised, and she's biting her lower lip, trying not to laugh at you.

"Save it," You roll your eyes as you pull her with you to the drinks. "Tonight, I'm not worrying about any stupid guys!"

Your friend answers you with a chant, jumping around and almost spilling her first drink of the night. Someone's already making their way to wish you a happy birthday, and the speakers play one of your favorite songs.

It's going to be good.

After the third cup of Sarah's famous mix, you decide to take a breather. As you walk around Tanney Hill, your vision can't help but spin with each step. The upstairs is much quieter, and the loud thumps of music are not sending your head into space anymore. You don't really look where you're going, so when your feet lead you to the roof, you can't help but let a soft smile on your lips.

It's been your getaway place since ninth grade. Every time something bad happened, and your eyes were filled with tears not meant for the others to see, you climbed out the balcony, fresh air accompanying you.

You settle on the cold, hard tiles, making sure your dress doesn’t get too dirty. You can see everything from up here. The moon’s reflection on the ocean is blurred at the edges, moving with the waves.

You close your eyes, focusing on breathing in the salty air.

“Look who’s there.” The voice suddenly breaking through the silence makes you jump.

Rafe’s face appears, his sharp features bathing in the light from the room below. He smiles as he climbs up, taking the spot next to you.

“Hi.” You try your best for your voice not to sound weird.

He shuffles in his place, his arm absentmindedly brushing yours.

"So, got overwhelmed?" Rafe starts. You nod in response, letting out a sigh.

"You know me so well, huh?"

He rests on his elbows, and he has a proud look on his face when he looks at you. "Duhh. I might know you better than Sarah."

You snort. Maybe he's right. But there are little things only you know.

For example, the way your heart races at the moment. If you sat two inches closer, he’d surely hear every single beat.

The two of you sat like this, in the soothing silence. Only the whistles of wind and crashing waves below interrupted it.

"It's so nice..." You finally speak up, tilting your head.

"Mhm." Rafe mumbles, a cigarette between his lips. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his black pants, looking for a lighter. When he pulls it out, he raises his eyebrows at you. "Want one?"

You glance at him for a little. It's your birthday, after all. You nod, and Rafe lights up the cig. He takes a blow first, then passes it to you.

You inhale the smoke, a small cough escaping your lips.

"What do you wish for?" He says with a smirk. You give him a quick look and feel your cheeks warm up.

Fuck.

"I don't know..."

"Oh, you do know."

You roll your eyes. "And since when are you so curious about things like this?"

"Darling, when wasn't I curious about you?"

Rafe's got a point. He forced you into a corner, and there's no room for a slick escape.

"Alright," you start, looking at the dark horizon. "I'd like to kiss someone on a night like this."

He raises his eyebrow, moving his body closer to yours. "Are you kidding?"

"What? No!"

What were you supposed to do, tell him the truth? Say, 'Yeah, I wish you'd notice I've been head over heels for you since, like, forever?' No. You had to make something up.

Fortunately for you, it wasn't a total lie. You've always adored this time of the day— soft, quiet nights. The sky filled with stars, the breeze flowing around you.

"Seriously! It's... romantic."

"Oh, yeah?"

He’s leaning in, and when your eyes dart down, his fingers trace the back of your hand.

Before you can do anything, Rafe presses his lips to yours, the taste of vodka lingering in between.

It's soft, almost as if Rafe's unsure. Nothing like the kisses you've been imagining before falling asleep. Those were burning, filled with passion, and you'd usually already be soaked by the rain.

You put your hand on his chest, a move laced with uncertainty, and finally deepen the kiss. Under your fingertips, you can feel each beat of his heart. It's as intense as the thumps of music below your body. This feels so... unreal.

His hands make their way to your neck, holding it from behind and pulling you even closer.

You sober up in seconds. You part from him, your breath coming out heavy.

His lips are red, a shade slowly matching his cheeks.

“Enjoy your wish,” Rafe whispers beside your lips, and you feel your heart fall.

What did it mean to him? You've known him forever, and you've seen how he used to act with girls— making out with them the whole night, not even bothering to text them back after the party's over. He's so nonchalant and so smug that you start having second thoughts.

“Rafe. I swear, if you’re trying to mess with me—”

“Hey,” he grabs your hand and puts it on his chest, near the heart. Now, his heart rate is even stronger than the music thumps. “Do you really think I’m joking?”

You open your mouth, ready to answer when you hear someone calling you. Your eyes widen as you glance over at Rafe again. The smirk on his face seems to be stuck there.

“I- I have to go,” you mumble, trying to get down without giving him a chance to notice how shaky your legs are. And your hands. Actually, how shaky you are in overall.

“I’ll drive you home later. Okay, baby?”

If you were alone, the whole Outer Banks would hear the scream that’s begging to get out of your throat.

“Didn’t you drink?” You try to sound as casual as you can, but the corners of your mouth manage to rise.

He shakes his head, “Not much. You better go down there. They’re waiting for the birthday girl.”

You look at him for the last time before disappearing into the house, cheeks warmer than ever in your life.

Hours later, the crowd in the house starts to thin. You didn't really drink much after coming back— the kiss was intoxicating enough.

Sarah walks around, throwing all the empty cups she'd found in the trash bag.

"Sarah, you don't have to do it now!" You whine, leaning on the couch. "I'll come back in the morning and help you, promise."

She shakes her head, "It's nothing. I'm honestly surprised it's not that much of a mess. You should go and find Rafe, he'll drive you home."

As she mentions her brother, she wiggles her brows with a playful smirk, making you groan. "Shut up! I shouldn't have told you about that after you drank those weird mixes—"

She giggles, picking up the bottles laying next to the table.

You roll your eyes and leave the room, looking around for the well-known face. He's nowhere to be seen here, so you climb up the stairs, moving around the very few people left, sending them soft and quick smiles as you pass them.

"Rafe?" You call out through the empty halls, heading to his room. You wouldn't be shocked if he just went to his room, away from all the people.

His door is left slightly open. You frown as you lean in, peeking through the thin gap. Even though it's not really polite.

A second later you wish you'd never gone there. Of course, Rafe's inside. But not alone.

In fact, there's some touron girl all over him. Her arms are around his neck, and you are almost sure they're shoving their tongues down each other's throats. You don't see much in the dim, warm light, but what you've already seen is enough.

You stand there for a split second, holding your breath, before you turn around on your heels and sprint down, as quietly as you can.

There's a bitter feeling in your throat, the way it tightens. You try to breathe, the air coming out in heavy, shaky parts.

You should've known this. It was obvious from the beginning— how could Rafe, someone who's been around since you were a little kid, see you as something more? As a girl he could be with?

Maybe he did find you attractive, but nothing more. You were just one of many girls.

"Woah!"

You crash with someone, almost falling, but you somehow keep your balance. Topper's standing in front of you, startled. There's a glimpse of worry in his eyes, the brows beneath them pulled together.

"Topper!" you breathe out, "Can you drive me home? Pretty please."

"Uhm, I mean, sure. But wasn't Rafe supposed to drop you off? I've heard him saying--"

You swallow hard. "He's busy."

"Oh, alright. Go to my car, I'll grab my keys and be there in a second, okay?"

"Mhm." You nod and look around to find Sarah asleep on one of the couches. A giggle slips from your lips, a reaction that makes you raise your brows.

Guess you'll have to tell her everything tomorrow.

You head out of the house, cold, breezy air hitting you in the face. Topper's car is already waiting for you on the driveway. You quickly take the passenger seat.

While waiting for the boy, you have to blink away the tears. You feel so... stupid.

Topper comes a few minutes after you. You can feel his stare as you two make your way to your house, but he doesn't say a thing until you are in front of your place.

"Will you be okay?" he asks. You jump on the hard ground and turn around to him, tilting your head.

"Yeah. Thanks," you say softly with a smile. "I'll be fine."

You don't waste a second— right after he drives off you go to your house, trying not to wake anyone up.

The first time you let the tears fall this night is in the shower. The salty streams get mixed with water, dripping onto your feet.

You try to feel anything.

You wait for the anger when you put on your pajamas.

You stand in the fogged-up mirror, searching for the slightest sadness on your face.

Even while laying in bed, minutes before falling asleep, you give yourself a moment to crash out. To be mad, be jealous over a boy you've loved for what feels like forever. But none of that comes.

Instead, you just feel plainly stupid. Maybe it's because of the alcohol in your system, or maybe you're ashamed you seriously thought he could like you.

You don't get any answer.

"Fuuckk."

You're never letting Sarah near the alcohol cupboard ever again. God only knows what she put in those mixes, but your head feels like exploding.

You look around the room bathed in the soft, early morning sunlight. You're not sure how much sleep you got, but it surely wasn't enough for you to forget what happened at the party.

Your phone is on the nightstand, next to a glass of water and some aspirin, probably left here by your mom.

You rub your eyes as you reach for it, your vision is still a little blurry.

There are some messages from Sarah, and you can’t help but smile when you see it all in the caps.

Of course, you can’t be happy for even a minute because, under her messages, there’s a notification from Rafe. Two missed calls and a few texts.

You squeeze the bridge of your nose as you read what he’d typed out.

Typical Rafe. Always acting clueless. So frustrating.

You bite your lip, thinking of how to reply. You didn't have the energy to talk about what you saw. Just like you were numb before, now all the emotions come with full force. If you tried to explain it, you'd probably end up screaming, crying or just completely breaking down.

The best thing to do is not to make a deal out of it— at least that's what you come up with, your head dizzy from being hungover, as your trembling fingers hit each letter.

It's for the better. Because this way, you can't get hurt even more. The thought of you spilling your heart in front of him, and Rafe's response is what he'd always use with the other girls...

You can't let it happen.

[luveline]

jadey you write poly marauders in such a special way it feels so realistic i love it so much 🥹 how do you think it would go if reader and one of them get into a fight/argument? like how would it affect the overall dynamic? (if this inspires anything pls go for it 💕💕💕)

thank you for requesting! fem

Remus lays with his head on your shoulder, but he’s not happy about it. James and Sirius aren’t subtle. They’d forced the two of you together and yes, Remus has missed you, but he doesn’t want to speak to you and he’s sure you’re feeling the same. 

You have put your hand atop his, not holding but resting there. He might be forgiven. He hopes he’s forgiven, but he doesn’t forgive you, so. 

James has made Remus’ favourite popcorn, freshly popped and doused in butter and caramel he made himself with sugar over the hob. Remus takes great grateful handfuls, given the added benefit of James’ smug smiling. Each piece he eats is like James’ receiving a job well done, and Potter’s can’t help but preen. 

Sirius sneaks bits of it over you. You don’t eat any, pointedly, your leg on Sirius’ knee and your foot wagging constantly. Restless. Annoyed. 

“Will you be angry with each other forever?” Sirius asks. 

“Sirius.”  

“What? I’m just asking.” 

“You’re being abrupt,” James says. 

Remus sighs until they both stop talking. He doesn’t know how long you’ll be angry with one another. For him it seems to come and go, and it doesn’t always help that James is neutral about it while Sirius’ loudly complains that you’re not yet over it after a frosty weekend. He wishes one of them would’ve backed him up, but then, he can’t imagine how that would feel for you. It’s not like he wants you to be upset. It’s just an unfortunate consequence of the whole thing. 

You’d cried when you argued but you’d been angry, too, quipping at him with a sharp tongue, not afraid to say what you’d felt, just overwhelmed enough to come to tears. They weren’t, you know, devastated tears or anything, but Remus had felt a pit open where his stomach was supposed to be as Sirius (Sirius, and not James, which felt important at the time) curled his arm around you and encouraged you to take a breather. 

James had stayed, giving Remus a good hug as he’d murmured, “That got too heated, huh? You okay?” 

Remus gets weird about James. About all of you, but James had been his first crush, so sometimes he feels rather daunted in the face of his affection. James likes that he can make Remus blush, but nobody’s acted very fond these last few days. It’s weird. It’s all off. The love is still there, but it’s like everyone’s afraid of showing it. 

You argued about something Remus said, and you misunderstood, and then something you said and Remus understood very well. Never the end of the world, but Remus is stubborn. He shouldn’t be. 

Remus turns his hand slowly under yours. To his relief, you let him do it, sliding your fingers between his. 

He lifts his head a touch. You don’t look at him. Sirius grins from the other side of you, and Remus ignores him. 

You slip further down into the sofa, Remus going with you, the whole group of you tired from a weekend on eggshells. 

Having seemed rather far away for the afternoon, you begin to relax. You force Remus’ head up to tuck yourself into his neck. When the movie ramps into a loud scene of gunshots and high speed car chase, you lift your lips to his ear and say, “I’m sorry, Lupin, but don’t you ever speak to me like that again.” 

He’d bristle if you didn’t sound teasing. Remus squeezes your hand, turns to see your face, and whispers back. “I’ll talk to you any way I like.” You huff a laugh. He’s so pleased to see a smile on your face that his resentment drains away completely. “I’m sorry, too,” he says. 

You nod at him. You accept his apology as he’d taken yours. An hour of being sat arm to arm and a half hour of hand-holding has reminded you both how much you really, really like the other. 

“Can we kiss and make up?” James asks. 

“I think that’s usually saved for the arguing parties,” Remus says. 

“We can argue, if you like,” you tell James. 

“Shall we?” James asks. 

Sirius argues with Remus once a week at least —nothing serious— and he knows the potency of a rough makeup kiss, sending him a knowing, inviting smile. “We can argue, Moony,” he says. 

Remus hugs you with one arm. “I’ve had enough arguing. I’m never doing it again.” 

“Good. I’m very tired, playing peacekeeper and all,” James says, slouching away from everyone. “Exhausted, even.” 

“What shall we do to make it up for him?” Remus asks you, having quickly descended into sickly sweetness, a murmur pressed into your cheek. 

“What does he want?” 

“What do you want, James?” 

James sits up. “Well, it wasn’t just me, you know. Sirius has been comic relief two days running. He’s not usually this funny otherwise.” 

“I resent that.” 

“Luckily for you both, there’s two of us,” Remus says.

You laugh, because you know what Sirius will say before he says it. “No!” you say, lifting a foot to kick at his leg. 

“Don’t be so rude,” Sirius says, grabbing you by the ankle. 

James decides you’ll celebrate with a takeaway and Sirius decides he’ll pick which one for being so diligently well-behaved this weekend, leaving you and Remus alone for the first time all day. Things feel a bit more raw, less soothed, but not bad. Remus peels away from you to look at you properly. 

“You okay?” you ask. 

“I was about to ask you the same thing.” 

“I’m okay if you are.” 

Remus taps your under the jaw, a little to the left, encouraging you to turn your head. He kisses you on the cheek. 

In the kitchen, James and Sirius giggle like school kids. Somebody gets a good whack in with a tea towel, and the other shrieks. “You thing!” Sirius says. 

Remus feels your side shake with laughter.