#hey. here's a blast from the past. are you ready for this one

[front-facing-pokemon]

[quin-ns]

Getaway Car (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

Word count: 4.7K

Summary: your boyfriend, topper, isn’t making midsummers as fun as you were hoping. lucky for you, rafe is there to fix that

Tags: (18+), cheating, smidge of topper x reader, fingering, car sex, unprotected sex, rafe and reader are messy asf

A/N: kinda old bc I was gonna make it a series but it wasn’t working out so here it is as a stand alone 🫶 it’s been a while and I wanted to post something before the year ends

OBX masterlist + main masterlist

You were beginning to wonder what you were even doing here.

Midsummers was supposed to be the perfect summer event. Everyone got all dressed up to dance with their friends and have a fun night. You were more than ready for a fun night.

The light pink dress flowed down to your ankles and fit your body just right. Your makeup and hair were done nicely, courtesy of your best friend, Sarah. Unfortunately for the both of you, she was sick and couldn’t go this year. You were grateful to her for still helping you out despite her stuffy nose. You even had a date that you knew turned heads. The two of you were the perfect couple on the surface.

The problem with Topper was that he seemed more interested in showing you off than actually just being there with you.

Dating Topper was nothing you had planned. You first got to know him as a friend of friends, but you liked him enough. You couldn’t think of a good reason to say “no” when he asked you out and said he wanted to get to know you better.

Now here you were, holding Topper’s arm as he led you around the party, moving between conversations with his friends.

You didn’t mind so much at first. But when you broke off on your own to try and find some friends of your own, Topper popped up behind you.

“There you are,” he commented, placing himself at your side. “I’ve been looking for you.”

You looked over at him as an arm slid around your waist. In your peripheral you saw the girls you were talking to moving away from the both of you. You forced a smile so as to not make a scene.

“You can talk to your friends, why can’t I talk to mine?” you wondered, raising your brows.

Topper laughed and shook his head. “I never said you couldn’t. When Sarah gets here we can meet up with her.”

His words meant nothing. He was already leading you back where he wanted to go.

“Sarah’s not coming. She’s sick,” you reminded him.

“So she’s not coming?” He sounded disappointed. You shook your head, feeling the same disappointment. “That sucks.”

You ended up standing idly by while he talked to Rafe and Kelce. You knew both of them pretty well, more so Rafe than Kelce. Rafe was Sarah’s brother after all.

You occupied yourself by trying to remember all the words to your favorite song in your head, tuning them out almost entirely.

“What about you, Y/N?” Rafe said, cutting through your second repeat of the song. You blinked, missing the question. “Are you having fun?” he repeated what you assumed he had asked before.

You almost laughed to yourself. There was a slight shift in Rafe’s face. It was like he could tell.

“Yeah, I’m having a blast,” you agreed sarcastically, giving Topper a phony smile—one which he bought.

Rafe smirked.

“Hey, there he is,” Kelce said in a hushed tone to Topper and Rafe, nodding his head past you. You turned and spotted the bar, where two bartenders were trading places. “The taller guy—he’s the one that doesn’t card.”

You must’ve missed that part of the conversation, and you had no interest in it as you turned back. It didn’t surprise you that getting drunk had climbed to the top of their priority list.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m feeling thirsty,” Topper decided.

“Actually, I’m good,” you spoke up when he tried to tug you along. You saw his smile fade when you kept your feet planted. “You go ahead.”

Topper chuckled suddenly, like you were messing with him.

“For real?”

“I’ll keep an eye on her, don’t worry,” Rafe said as if you weren’t standing right there. You would’ve been offended if you didn’t see what he was doing.

Topper laughed it off with a, “Thanks, man,” and followed Kelce away to the bar.

He trusted Rafe, so maybe he didn’t think he had to compete for your attention with him like he assumed he had to with your friends.

Rafe eyed you up and down, taking in the way you let yourself relax.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re happy to get away from him,” he said after a moment.

“Oh no, I’m having a blast. Can’t you tell?” you questioned, voice dripping with sarcasm. You caught yourself after a second, reminding yourself that Rafe was basically Topper’s best friend. “Sorry, I’m being mean. It’s not that bad.”

“Be mean all you want,” Rafe replied, stepping closer to stand directly across from you. He leaned like he was telling you a secret. “And don’t apologize for it.”

You narrowed your eyes a little, looking him over as he stood back up straight, trying to decide if he meant it or not. After only a second it was clear he did.

Rafe threw a look over his shoulder to the bar. Topper and Kelce were waiting behind a few others.

“You wanna sit down? They might be a while.”

You nodded, because why the hell not?

Finding an empty table was a bit of a challenge, but the two of you managed eventually. Rafe pulled out your chair for you, and even chuckled at your comment about chivalry not being dead after all.

Instead of crossing around the table to sit down opposite of you, he pulled out the chair right next to yours. He sat in it sideways, so you turned in your seat to face him. Your knees were basically touching, but you didn’t mind.

“So, you here by yourself?” you wondered, just making conversation.

“I’m here with you.”

You were tempted to roll your eyes, but not in the same way you had been with Topper most of the night.

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Yeah, I am,” Rafe revealed, smirking to himself before adding, “But it’s not like I didn’t have options.”

You raised your brows at his brazenness—not shocked, just amused.

“Because you’re so interesting?” you teased, the corner of your lip tugging up.

“Among other things.”

“Like what?”

You placed your elbow on the table and leaned on your hand, watching him, waiting for his overconfident answer.

He had to have known you were messing with him, maybe even baiting him. You usually did. You always enjoyed the back-and-forths you’d have with him. Rafe gave you a subdued smile.

“Like… I wouldn’t treat my date like an accessory and then ditch her, for one.”

You chuckled in spite of yourself. “Touché.”

“And I know how to have fun,” he added, voice laced with charm. You’d never noticed that before.

You hummed and straightened back. “Well, maybe you should’ve asked me,” you joked.

“Maybe I should’ve,” Rafe drawled. He sounded genuine, which caught you off guard. “You seem bored out of your mind—well, before we started talking,” he pointed out, giving himself an ego boost, slightly changing the topic. “Why even come?”

“Topper wanted to,” you filled in, willing to let it slide for now. “I thought it would be fun, but all the things that would’ve been fun for me got totally ignored.”

“So, what do you want to do?” Rafe wondered. You didn’t remember his blue eyes ever looking this intense, but then again, you didn’t think you’d ever been this close to him.

“Right this very second?”

“Sure.”

You glanced around at the other tables. Everyone was caught up in conversation, having a nice time with their friends and their dates and their families.

“Leave, probably,” you admitted, looking back at Rafe.

He nodded, silently thinking it over.

Finally, he shrugged a little and said, “Okay.”

You started to laugh. “You’re not serious…” you trailed off as he stood, raising his brows, as if to say he was. “What about Topper?”

“What about him?” Rafe asked plainly, like he’d already forgotten all about his friend.

You blinked, then stood. You weren’t exactly sure why he’d been able to convince you so easily.

“Damn the consequences,” you whispered to yourself, although it was easier said than done.

Rafe gave you a subtle smirk, nodded his head to the door. He even held out an arm, which you took with a nervous smile.

It felt strange, being on Rafe’s arm. It was a position you’d never thought you’d be in, nor had you thought about it. Sure, you got along with Rafe pretty well, and he did look handsome tonight (and most days…) but he was always just Sarah’s brother. Then, your boyfriend's best friend.

Now? Now he was your rescuer, saving you from this dull affair that should’ve been an exciting night.

Maybe it still could be.

Rafe was leading the two of you to the door, quietly making comments to you about other partygoers. You laughed at the jokes, unintentionally drawing attention to yourself.

Rafe didn’t seem to mind the way your peers began to look at you, not exactly hiding their staring. It seemed like everyone knew you and Topper were together despite only about a month of dating. You could guess what they were thinking and word traveled fast in the Figure Eight.

It probably should’ve bothered you more than it did, the way a few started to whisper, but you were more concerned with leaving than trying to correct their perception.

“Don’t look, walk faster,” Rafe muttered, leaning down close to you.

You didn’t realize what he was talking about until you disobeyed him and glanced over your shoulder. Sure enough, Topper was making his way around the room. Presumably looking for you.

You snapped your head back forward, trying to make your escape while doing as little damage as possible.

The big entrance door, soon to be an exit, was right ahead.

“Y/N?” Topper’s voice carried across the room, but you kept your head forward, not daring to look. “Hey, over here!”

In the large windows, you saw his reflection vaguely in the distance. He was getting closer to you, weaving through the crowd, waving a hand.

You didn’t want him to stop you. Sure, you could’ve turned and told him to stop and that you were leaving, but that was way more of a scene than you wanted to create. What you did wasn’t exactly any better, but it avoided a verbal altercation in front of everyone you knew.

You broke apart from Rafe to move faster, speed walking the last few feet to the door. It was like he read your mind, jumping out ahead of you to pull the door open.

You hadn’t planned on it, but the two of you were rushing down the stairs of the country club.

“My truck’s up ahead parked on the street. I didn’t want to park in the lot,” Rafe informed when you got to the bottom step.

“Of course you didn’t.”

You spared a glance to one of the large windows and saw Topper looking out it. You snapped your head back, not wanting to make eye contact in case he saw you. You picked up the pace. By a lot. Not figuratively but literally running away.

Rafe easily could’ve out run you, but he chose to stick close when he caught up. You weren’t expecting it when Rafe reached down to grab your hand, making sure you were right by him as the two of you ran for his truck.

You let your shoes fall off your feet as you broke out into a full out sprint. A laugh tore out from you, filling the air around you. You felt so free as the sound of your own joy hit your ears.

You knew people were watching from the patio area, but as you arrived at Rafe’s truck, you hardly noticed.

“This is crazy,” you said to yourself as you reared to a stop. Your lungs were close to burning and your bare feet started to ache, but you were smiling so brightly. “Are we actually doing this?”

“If you get in the truck we are,” Rafe replied smoothly, opening the passenger door for you.

You opened your mouth to speak, but something in the distance cut you off.

“Hey! Y/N!” shouted a familiar voice.

Looking back towards the club, you saw none other than Topper in that beige suit you were starting to find tacky. He was running towards you, even holding one of your shoes. You would’ve laughed again if your heart wasn’t racing.

Your eyes met Rafe’s, finding the same anticipation in them that you felt coursing through your body. The corner of his lip curved up into a smirk, like he knew what you were going to do before you did it.

You climbed into the passenger seat without further hesitation. Rafe shut the door behind you and ran around the front of the truck to the driver’s side.

He fished his keys out of his pocket and jammed them into the ignition. The truck roared to life. Rafe looked over to you with a full grin.

You shared the same expression until you made the mistake of glancing out the passenger window, seeing Topper running towards the truck.

“Go, go, go!” you rushed out, urging Rafe to slam on the gas. You didn’t even know what you were saying.

That’s exactly what he did, speeding the two of you away from the country club until there was only the sound of the truck's engine and heavy breathing.

When the twinkling lights faded far behind you, Rafe eased in the gas. Topper was left in the dust, no way to catch up.

You exchanged a look, studying one another. The panic on your face shifted back to a smile, causing Rafe to do the same.

A victorious laughter left you suddenly, realizing the insanity of the situation. Rafe looked between you and the road, letting out a chuckle. Whether it be for the same reason as you or the way you reacted, you didn’t know. It didn’t really matter.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed, finally relaxing back in the seat. “That was so exciting. Why was that so exciting?” Rafe didn’t answer, but it seemed like he at least thought of one as he smirked to himself. “Thank you for the prison break,” you told him, letting your appreciation seep into your teasing words.

“You looked like you needed it, I could tell before we even sat down,” Rafe pointed out. Why did he get that but Topper didn’t? “Besides, that was way more fun than that entire night combined.”

You let out a sigh, trying to not let guilt overcome your adrenaline high. “Topper’s gonna be pissed,” you acknowledged, recalling his face as Rafe sped away.

“So?” Rafe wondered without hesitation.

Your brows curved. Topper was supposed to be his best friend, and he’d just run off with his girlfriend. Or were you his girlfriend that ran off with his best friend? The semantics didn’t really matter in the end, it wasn’t like it meant anything other than the fact that you needed to be anywhere but that party.

You looked out the window, resting your elbow on it and leaning against your fist. You stayed like that for a few minutes, watching the dark shadows of trees and dispersed mansions as they passed by.

“Just in case Topper didn’t tell you, you look beautiful tonight,” Rafe commented out of nowhere, filling the silence.

You gave him a curious look. You couldn’t remember if Rafe had ever said anything like that to you.

His gaze was mostly fixated on the road, but you saw the way his eyes darted to the side, checking on you.

“Thank you,” you said softly, because he was right, Topper hadn’t even mentioned it.

He’d complimented your dress for the way it fit your body and went well with his suit, and he’d been relieved by the way you’d shown up perfectly on time, and even mentioned how Sarah had done your hair, but nothing about you as a whole. Just the bits and pieces.

“For the record, you look very handsome,” you told Rafe, a small smile forming. “And I’m not just saying that ‘cause you said something nice to me.”

He glanced over to you fully this time, a look you couldn’t quite place on his face. Sure, he was smiling, but there was something else in his eyes.

“Well, that’s good to know.”

In the past, you would’ve found admitting that out loud weird since he was Sarah’s brother, but something about being with him now felt different. He wasn’t Sarah’s brother who you were sorta friends with, he was Rafe, the guy who’d gone out of his way to rescue you from a shitty night.

Well, now maybe you could upgrade him from “sorta friend” to just “friend”. He’d earned it, that was for sure.

It was still crazy to you, what you’d just done, even if it was only minutes ago. Something about it all stuck in your head. The rush you got from just talking—okay, maybe even flirting a little—with Rafe was more than you had felt with Topper in weeks. And the great escape added on? You couldn’t remember the last time you felt that exhilarated.

“You just gonna stare at me the rest of the drive?” Rafe teased, eyeing you in his peripheral.

Your cheeks felt warm as you looked away, focusing back out the window instead.

“Where are we even going?” you wondered, ignoring his comment.

“Good point,” Rafe said. “I actually don’t know.”

You weren’t expecting him to pull the truck off to the side of the road. There was nothing around you except for trees and distant street lights on either side. He parked in a gap between houses, making sure to not be in front of anyone’s property. People were weird about that, especially the older ones. Although you guessed a decent amount of them would be at Midsummers anyway.

“Why’d you stop?”

Rafe shrugged in response, eyes taking you in. “Just wanted to be able to look at you. Kinda hard when I’m driving.” He was purposefully trying to make you feel flustered, and it was working. “Figure out where you wanna go and I’ll take you.”

Your first thought was home, but something in the back of your mind urged you to not end the night so soon. You were having fun with Rafe, something you didn’t anticipate. The impulsiveness was still making your heart race.

It only took you a moment to realize it wasn’t just that. Rafe was watching you, and you were watching him. Your lips parted as you took a shallow breath, the air in the truck somehow becoming thicker. His eyes flicked to your lips as you did so, and it wasn’t subtle by any means.

Your own hushed words rang back in your mind.

Consequences be damned.

You weren’t sure who lunged forward first, but in a matter of seconds your lips were attached to Rafe’s.

You weren’t sure of the exact how or why, either, but you wanted to. That was enough for the moment.

Rafe’s hand gripped the back of your neck, holding you to him as he dominated the kiss. All the air seemed to leave your lungs. Your eyes slid shut as you moaned into the kiss.

If someone would have told you even minutes ago that you’d be making out with Rafe Cameron, you wouldn't have believed them.

Now you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

Your mind began to make the comparison to Topper, noting Rafe’s neediness for you and the passion of it all, but the other boy faded completely from your mind.

Rafe kissed you like it was the last thing he’d ever get to do and had to make it count. You’d never felt so desirable, and it sent a rush of electricity through your body. When he bit your lip it added an extra jolt.

It was the opposite of graceful, a fumble of limbs and tangled fabric and trying to not part from one another, but you eventually ended up in the backseat.

Rafe was on top of you now, curious hands sliding down your body as he devoured your lips. You made no attempt to stop him. You didn’t want him too. The rush was too strong.

You gasped against his lips when Rafe pushed your dress up around your hips, hands gripping your waist, savoring the feel of your bare skin beneath his palms.

Rafe knelt between your legs, fingers dipping in the waistband of your underwear. They moved further until he was running a finger through your folds. Your face grew warm knowing he could feel how wet you already were.

A low groan rumbled from deep in Rafe’s chest and you couldn’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed. You were too consumed by lust.

Rafe slid one finger in, stroking it inside slowly before adding another one. You shivered as he thrust and curled his fingers. You lost track of the minutes before he added another one, and you were gasping by the time he pulled them away entirely.

Before you could beg for more he was already abliging you. He gripped the edges of your underwear and ripped the material from you with sheer force, then discarded the remains on the floor of his truck. He could’ve just taken them off, and you both knew that. Maybe he was showing off his strength to fluster you or he really just couldn’t contain himself, but it didn’t matter.

His hands went for his belt next, whipping it off like he was going for speed. Your eyes fell, watching as he unbuttoned his pants.

Your gaze immediately flicked away when he shoved them down.

Were you really gonna do this? Hook up with Rafe Cameron?

You felt Rafe’s eyes on you as he gripped his cock, stroking himself, watching you.

It only took one look back at him to decide yeah, you were.

The smirk that crossed his face was one of pure lust, it was like he could read your mind.

Still, when he situated himself between your legs, lining himself up with your entrance, he asked, “This what you want?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out, your body already overheated. “I want it.”

That was all it took for him to push into you. The slow stretch of him took the air from your lungs.

You finally took a breath when he was fully seated inside you. He watched you with hungry eyes, hands running along your thighs, attempting to sooth you and control himself.

Words failed you, but when you adjusted, you gave him a nod.

The first thrust was experimental, testing the waters. When your body reacted, quivering with anticipation, Rafe moved again.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him close. He had no choice but to hover on top of you, placing his forearm near your head, but neither of you were exactly mad about it.

The space in the back seat was entirely too cramped. You were completely consumed by his presence. It was perfect.

You moaned into his mouth when he captured your lips for a kiss, the roughness matching the slam of his hips as he found a pace he liked. You were already a mess beneath him, body shivering with each thrust.

“Rafe,” you whispered his name over and over. It was the only thing that you could manage to say.

His lips trailed to your neck and your hand rose to tangle in his hair. His teeth pressed to your skin, threatening to bite. Before he could, you pulled him back. He groaned into your collarbone instead, hips slamming into your ass, cock filling you entirely.

The sound of skin against skin paired with noises of desperation from both of you filled the small space. You wanted nothing else to exist outside of the backseat.

Rafe found your sweet spot in little time and elicited moans from you with every thrust. Your hands went to his back, fingers clutching the fabric of his blazer as your toes curled.

You took everything he gave you, even when the heat and overwhelming pleasure began to smother you.

Rafe could tell when you were getting close and refused to let up, wanting to not only feel but watch you experience bliss all because of him.

You felt exposed beneath his hungry gaze, but in the best way. Like you were the thing of his dreams that finally, finally came true.

Your whole body tensed, nails digging in and cunt clenching down as your orgasm crashed over you. The wave was so intense you thought you might drown in it, but Rafe was there, muttering sweet nothing in your ear, dragging you back to shore.

Before you could come down from your high, Rafe was tipping over the edge. He gave a few more sharp thrusts of his hips before his cock twitched inside you. With a deep moan of your name that made your cunt throb, Rafe let go, filling you.

Your legs tightened around him, holding him there as the two of you heaved for air, riding out the pleasure together.

Finally, Rafe pressed a long kiss to your swollen lips before straightening back up.

You needed a few extra seconds to recover, so you instead watched as he tucked himself back into his pants and redid his belt. He ran his hands through his hair and for the most part he was good as new. Aside from your lipstick staining his lips, that is.

You, on the other hand, knew you probably looked like a mess.

Rafe helped you sit up. He straightened out your dress and hummed.

“I know I said it before, but you’re so fucking beautiful,” Rafe praised, eyes drinking you in, and his words left little room for you to doubt him. “You don’t get what you do to me.”

“I think I have some idea,” you mused, cracking a small smile.

Rafe smirked, because how could he argue?

Getting back into the front seat was a little more awkward than falling together into the back in a fit of passion.

You were aware of what was dripping between your legs, and tried to not further the mess. You’d already have to wash your dress, might as well spare his car seats.

“You wanna come back to my place?” Rafe offered as he started the car again.

You could hear in his voice that he hoped you’d say yes, but you didn’t think you could pass by Sarah and pretend you weren’t there for her brother.

Oh god… Sarah.

As you looked to Rafe, you were forced to remember that he was your best friend’s brother. And if that combination wasn’t bad enough, someone else crept into your head—your boyfriend, who you’d totally just cheated on. There wasn’t a nicer way to put it.

Your mouth felt dry as you swallowed. The carefree, relieved attitude you held faded.

“I need to get home,” you decided, voice weaker than it had been before.

Rafe was quiet for a moment before agreeing.

You felt silly, not knowing what to say to him now after all that, but you couldn’t get out of your own head, wondering if you were a terrible person.

Well, more accurately, you couldn’t stop thinking about the answer. You were certain you knew it.

When Rafe stopped outside of your house and put the truck in park, he looked at you with a gaze so intense you were held in place.

“He doesn’t deserve you, Y/N,” Rafe professed, tone steady. He believed it. “I know you know that.”

You almost opened your mouth to argue, but the words died in your throat.

“Goodnight, Rafe,” you said instead, climbing out of the truck.

As you crossed across the front, you heard the light buzz of his window rolling down.

“I’ll see you soon, alright?” Rafe called, prolonging the goodbye. “I had fun,” he added, and your footsteps faltered. “And I don’t regret a thing.”

Rafe stayed until you got to your front door, found the key under the mat, and slipped inside.

Only when the door shut did the truck pull away. You may or may not have watched out the window, his parting words replaying in your mind.

As guilty as you felt, you didn’t either, and that might’ve been the worst part.

[loverofwomenswrongs]

DON'T ACT SO SURPRISED

****** Pairing: Billie Eilish x fem!reader Words: 1.1K

******

The arena buzzed with excitement as fans filled the stands. Y/n, arriving late, knew there was no chance Billie would spot her by mistake—after all, her girlfriend was notoriously observant, especially when it came to her. She had sent a message pretending to be back in LA, knowing that, under normal circumstances, Billie wouldn't call before the show due to the time difference. 

Just before the opening act, a staff member stepped on stage, catching the attention of the fans who looked around, confused. This wasn’t part of the usual show. The staff member spoke into the mic, “Hey, Melbourne! I know you're probably wondering what's going on right now, but I’m here on behalf of Billie’s team.” Whispers rippled through the crowd, some curious, others concerned. What was happening? Had something gone wrong?

“It’s nothing bad, we just need to ask you a favour. There’s a surprise for Billie at the end of the show, and we’d like you to please refrain from screaming or acknowledging it when you see it. We want her to be completely surprised, so just keep enjoying the show until she notices it, alright? We know you can do it,” the staff member continued.

With that, they exited the stage, leaving the fans buzzing with excitement, knowing that tonight’s show would be unlike any other.

Billie’s team had been careful to ensure she wouldn’t overhear anything backstage. Music blasted loudly as she was kept busy, and they had told her to head to the furthest room for her makeup, claiming it had better lighting. Billie, eager to perform, didn’t seem to notice how strange her team was acting.

As soon as Billie hit the stage, Y/n received a text from Finneas: You can come now. Thank goodness she had booked a hotel near the stadium. A tinted van picked her up, and within ten minutes, she arrived at the venue, greeted by warm hugs and smiles from Billie’s team.

She dropped her things in Billie’s room and quickly grabbed one of the singer’s hoodies to throw on. A member of the sound team helped her get her in-ears ready, and to blend in with the staff, she slipped on a security jacket, pulled a scarf over her face, and topped it off with a hat, hoping to avoid being recognized by fans.

She waited backstage, heart pounding as Happier Than Ever started to play. A real security guard came to escort her to the stage. Y/n moved forward, trying to keep her focus away from Billie, so she wouldn't feel her gaze. The nervous thumping of her heart was so loud, she could hear it over the music.

The guard led her under the stage as the song played on. Once safely out of view, Y/n quickly changed into her stage costume, letting out a sigh of relief. No one had noticed her, or if they had, they were good fans who kept the surprise under wraps.

The moment she had been waiting for arrived when she heard Billie’s voice introducing the last song of the night.

“Wow, Melbourne, you’ve been amazing! I’m so sad it’s ending. These past few weeks in Australia have made me so happy,” Billie said, her voice full of emotion.

The crowd erupted, and Y/n couldn’t help but smile. It had been so long since she’d seen Billie this content. Every time they talked about her time in Australia, there was a relaxed glow on her face.

“Thank you so much. Honestly. This last song is one of my favorites because I wrote it thinking about the most beautiful person I know—someone I miss so much. Y/n, bubs, I know you’re watching... I love you so much.”

Y/n felt a tear slide down her cheek as the crowd went wild. While their relationship wasn’t exactly a secret—fans often saw them posting about each other or attending events together—they kept much of their private lives just that: private. Still, their fans adored them, always respecting their boundaries.

“Now, I want to call my brother, Finneas, to the stage to help me with this last song. Here’s Birds of a Feather—I hope you enjoy it.”

The song began, with Finneas playing guitar, expertly distracting Billie as Y/n made her way onto the stage.

I want you to stay  'Til I'm in the grave   'Til I rot away, dead and buried   'Til I'm in the casket, you carry

As the lyrics filled the air, Y/n climbed the stairs, mic in hand. When she stepped onto the stage, gasps rippled through the crowd. Her voice joined Billie’s, and the singer glanced at her brother, confused. Finneas simply nodded toward Y/n, who was still singing.

Billie turned, almost dropping her microphone in shock as she saw her girlfriend. Her mouth fell open, eyes impossibly wide. Y/n laughed at the reaction, pausing to lean into the mic with a quiet, “Hi.”

The crowd went wild as Billie shook her head, still stunned. Without hesitation, the two girls embraced in a tight hug, the audience cheering them on. Billie spun Y/n around, holding her close as they shared the moment.

When they finally pulled apart, Billie’s hand cupped Y/n’s face, her expression one of disbelief. Y/n read her lips as Billie whispered, “How?”

Y/n smiled and whispered back, “Later,” pointing to Finneas, who wore a soft, proud smile. Billie turned and embraced her brother, silently thanking him.

Y/n took the opportunity to speak to the crowd. “Hey, Melbourne! How’s everyone doing? I just want to thank you all for keeping this secret with me. You were incredible!”

Billie, still laughing, added over the loudspeakers, “Wait… you all knew and didn’t tell me? I feel betrayed by my own fans!”

The crowd erupted in laughter.

“Don’t be mad at them, it was my doing,” Y/n replied, reaching for Billie’s hand.

Billie smirked. “Alright… So, shall we give them our song?”

Y/n nodded, placing a kiss on top of Billie’s head and exchanging a glance with Finneas, signaling they were ready to go.

As the song played on, the girls made an effort to interact with the crowd, sharing looks and smiles throughout. Billie often found herself admiring how easily Y/n moved across the stage, despite not being a singer herself. Meanwhile, Y/n couldn’t stop gazing at Billie, sending her playful winks whenever she could.

By the time the final notes of the song played, the two girls met center stage, singing the last lyrics to each other. For a brief moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

I knew you in another life   You had that same look in your eyes   I love you, don’t act so surprised

When the final chord struck, they melted into a tight hug. Billie pressed against Y/n’s chest, inhaling the scent she’d missed so much. The two pulled apart, their foreheads resting together, beaming with happiness. Y/n locked eyes with Billie as she mouthed, “I love you.”

******

Part 2

[haikyu-mp4]

A little courage – Kyotani x reader wc 683 – f!reader requested by @dira333 for A blast from the past, parenting edition<3

Kyotani was quite nervous about delivering your son, Masuo, to his first day at school. It was such an important day, and Kyotani knew he could look somewhat… uninviting. Despite knowing you trusted him with this, he had his doubts. He almost wished he could send Koganegawa in as an actor in his stead, but the protectiveness he felt for his role as your husband and Masuo’s stepdad made him throw that idea straight in the mental dumpster.

So here he was, helping Masuo out of the car and trying to evade negative thinking. However, his natural frown softened when the boy wasn’t moving from the car, planting himself on the edge of the seat where Kyotani had opened the car door. “Hey, bud. Ready to go?” he asked, hoping he sounded somewhat encouraging.

“You’re not leaving right away, are you?” Masuo mumbled, looking up at Kyotani with the most puppylike eyes he had ever seen. He drew a sharp breath, glancing over his shoulder before ruffling Masuo’s hair a little for attempted comfort.

“I’ll be there until they bring you inside,” he promised, shoulders raising subtly in uncertainty. While he was proud to be the boy’s stepdad, he hadn’t had any practice in the dad role, and often felt awkward in his attempts at parenting.

Masuo was kicking his legs, lip hanging in a pout and fingers fiddling. “I’m scared I won’t make friends.”

Kyotani was taken back to his school days, back when he truly felt like he didn’t fit in with anyone. If only he had the courage to take the first step, maybe he could have made friends even though he was of the brash kind.

“Listen,” he started, squatting a bit to be at eye level. “Making friends can be real scary. I think so, too.” Masuo nodded slowly, and Kyotani copied it. “Yeah. But I think the best thing you can do is take the first step. Show them how brave you are.”

The little boy sniffled a couple more times, as if his body was loading the information through his nose. Then finally, he smiled, wiping off any tears and snot on his shirt sleeve before jumping out of the car. “I’m going to make a friend! Just like mama said!” Masuo swore loudly to whoever could hear it, puffing out his chest to demonstrate his bravery. In contrast, he grabbed his stepdad’s hand tightly before stepping forward.

Hurriedly, Kyotani locked the car and tucked the key away in his pocket, before he realised he still had Masuo’s backpack on his shoulder. The very special one he had chosen for himself, with a range of dinosaurs on it. “Wait, buddy.”

Masuo hummed to show he was listening before gasping at the realisation. “My backpack!”

“You have to have this on. It’s so cool, everyone will want to be your friend. You know, even Tsukishima said it was awesome,” Kyotani said like it was some well-kept secret.

With newfound vigour and the backpack on, Masuo led them into the schoolyard.

The connection was immediate. The kids were all mostly looking to make friends, and it seemed like Masuo felt much better with a little extra courage on his shoulders.

Kyotani had his hands tucked deep in his pockets, except for lifting his phone now and then to take a photo you could see later. Unfortunately, he couldn’t shake off the feeling of stares from parents around him. Cold sweat clung underneath his collar, making him itch to move along. He almost forgot why he was there until he heard it.

“Is that your dad?” a girl asked, pointing at Kyotani with no sense of discretion.

“That’s my stepdad. He’s a professional volleyball player and super tough,” Masuo answered so proudly that Kyotani felt flustered. The topic moved on to comparing their backpacks and discussing possible Beyblade tournaments in the schoolyard, but Kyotani had to strain himself not to tear up at the simple gesture from before.

If there was anything in Masuo that resembled you most, it was your absolute support of Kyotani exactly as he was.

masterlist

/finally had some inspiration for this one from a brainstorm with @cottonlemonade<3

[earlysunshines]

downstairs neighbor

danielle marsh x fem!reader ; fluff

synopsis: in which you party so often that you get another complaint, but this time it's from a very pretty girl that really has you considering shutting the whole function down.

warnings: alcohol and weed mentioned ; readers an asshole at first but danielle is danielle so reader goes through a whole crisis ; yeah they're adorable, basically black cat and golden retriever trope sorry not sorry ; anything else i didn't mention ; not proofread

a/n: get it because usually it's the upstairs neighbor but i'm quirky so its not... ok nvm ill delete my account i gues ... anyways FIRST DANI FIC UNDER 10K! guys im so in love with her i need to be put into an asylum do u see these pics of her LOOK AT HERR!!! i need to die like rn

danielle has settled in quite alright into her new university. she's moved in with one of her close friends from high school, decorated her side of the room, and all of her professors are oddly sweet--much better than the professors from her old school.

she makes it to the first friday of the semester, deciding to settle in and watch a movie, maybe call her mom and dad later if she doesn't doze off. but when she hears muffled music and disturbing footsteps from downstairs, she pauses the show she's two minutes into and gets out of her bed.

hanni's on the other side of the room completely slumped, her headphones peeking out from the blanket sprawled on top of her with no care in the world as to what is happening downstairs. danielle purses her lips before getting out of bed and slipping the university sweatshirts over her tank top.

she looks back over at hanni, who’s still sleeping, before heading out into the living room area, past the kitchen, and out the door.

when she reaches the floor below, she follows the noise, it gets louder as she steps through the corridors, and then she stops in front of what she suspects is the source of all this disruption before knocking on the door—no response.

“hm.” she mumbles, knocking again in a little pattern—still no response.

before she can knock again, her fist in the air ready to hammer a little harder on the door, it opens.

a girl—probably her age—answers it, eyes narrowed at danielle. she’s slightly taller, but still, danielle feels a little small with how scrutinizing she checks her out. 

“did kazuha invite you? yujin? or was it jungwon?” the girl looks at her with raised brows, expecting an answer with a slightly bothered look. it seems like danielle had interrupted their little… event? whatever event it was, did they really need to have house music being blasted so loudly?

danielle rubs her thumb against her pointer finger, trying to steady her nerves. “oh, no, i um… wasn’t invited,” she says, her voice wavering slightly. the words sound even more pathetic out loud than they did in her head, but there’s no taking them back now. she pushes on, though it feels like her confidence is slipping away with every syllable. “i was just wondering if—well, if you could turn the music down? my roommate is sleeping and it’s just… really disturbing.”

the girl in front of her snickers, a look of disbelief crossing her face as she sizes danielle up. it’s clear she finds the request ridiculous, and danielle feels her cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“you know what, this isn’t even my party—hey y/n! come out here!” the girl calls over her shoulder, her tone dismissive as she waves danielle off like she’s someone else’s problem now.

you hear your name being called, and with a sigh, you push yourself up from the couch. the group you were sitting with whines in protest as you leave, but you roll your eyes—they’re all drunk, their complaints nothing more than the amplified nonsense of intoxicated minds.

“what is it, yunjin?” you call out, rubbing your eyes as you approach the entrance, the taste of the cheap beer sakura handed you earlier lingering unpleasantly on your tongue. “what—”

the words die in your throat as you spot the girl standing just inside the doorway. she’s probably, no, definitely new here—new to the party, new to the scene. you’ve never seen someone that makes you stop in your tracks like this. her long eyelashes flutter as she looks up at you, her big brown eyes sparkling with a mix of nervousness and something else you can’t quite place. she’s dressed in baggy sweats and an oversized university sweater, the logo stretched across her chest in signature block letters. there’s an air of innocence about her, something that feels out of place amidst the environment both of you are in right now.

you take her in, noting how pretty she is—adorable, if you’re going to be honest with yourself. she looks like a lost puppy, especially with those pleading eyes and the subtle bite of her lip—

you push the thought aside, telling yourself it doesn’t matter. you’re just here to deal with whatever minor inconvenience yunjin has decided to dump on you.

“who are you?”

“um, my name is danielle, i live right above.” she has an accent, something strong and similar to that girl yunjin’s been bickering with – was it lily? no, bangchan? hell no, she hates him and his little group. ah, hanni that short girl that came complaining during your second party of freshman year, yunjin still brings her up. 

“right, what do you want?” you ask, sensing yunjin’s departure when you feel her brush against your shoulder. “is there a problem or?”

“well, yeah, kind of…” she’s actually adorable, especially when she avoids your eye contact like that. “it’s kind of loud, you know. i was wondering if you could turn down the volume a bit? there’s a lot of thumping i can hear from above, i can’t imagine how it must be for the downstairs neighbors…”

“you must be new.”

“sorry?”

“you’ll get used to it.” you say simply, poking the inside of your cheek before starting to close the door. “i recommend a pair of some good noise cancelling headphones—and a signature study spot. see you around danielle.”

you feel a strange pang of guilt, something unfamiliar and uncomfortable twisting in your chest. you’ve done this before—brushed off people’s complaints, shut the door on them without a second thought. but there’s something about her that makes you hesitate, something that tugs at you. maybe it’s the way she looked at you, those big brown eyes wide with a mix of hope and desperation, like she was really counting on you to help. you give her one more glance, catching that puppy-dog expression that makes your resolve waver for just a second. but then, before you can think twice, you close the door on her, shutting out the sight of her pleading face.

–

danielle spends the whole night tossing and turning, the faint vibration of the music seeping through the ground and into her restless mind. it’s not loud enough to keep her fully awake, but just persistent enough to keep her from finding any real rest. she considers going back downstairs, maybe trying to have a proper conversation, coming to some kind of compromise. but every time she thinks about it, the memory of how things ended—the snickers, the dismissive attitude—fills her with embarrassment, making her shrink back into her bed.

the next morning, she’s awake before the sun, the lingering fatigue making her body feel heavy and sluggish. still, she forces herself out of bed, the need to talk to someone—anyone—pushing her into action. with a deep breath, she reaches over and starts shaking hanni awake, the clock not even close to ten a.m. on a weekend. hanni groans in protest, burrowing deeper into the blankets, but danielle is relentless, her fingers poking at hanni’s sides until her sleepy roommate finally stirs, blinking up at her with bleary eyes.

“what the hell man? the sun is still rising!”

“what do you know about the downstairs neighbor?”

“w-what?” hanni mumbles, rubbing her eyes as she turns to lay on her back and squint at her roommate. “y/n? is this about her?”

“the girl directly below us—taller, mean, arrogant, tattoo on her arm and wrist, kind of pretty, nice lips, and jawline… ugh! her!”

“that’s y/n, but you’re reaching with the whole kind of pretty part. petty? yeah, more accurate.”

“last night i went down and asked her to–”

“you went to her place? to do what, complain?” 

“yes!” hanni shuts her eyes and sinks her head deeper into the pillow, sighing softly again. her roommate is new, she can’t be harsh, and plus, it’s danielle. 

“dani… the ra is literally in love with her, and y/n uses that so she can party and get high in her fuckass living room.”

“what?”

“danielle, mo dani, please listen.” hanni sits up, blinking hard as she reaches out ot put a hand on her friends shoulder. “you’ll get used to it, you can use my old headphones and i’ll show you my favorite cafe.”

“you’re just going to let this slide?”

“well until y/n stops flirting with jiyoung; there’s nothing we can really do other than cope every friday—and sometimes saturday—night.” hanni explains, flopping onto the bed and returning to fetal position. “can you put the blanket over me, please? i’m tired and cold… please.”

danielle frowns before covering her roommates body with her weighted blanket, sighing before she returns to her bed, laying down and recollecting all her memories from the night before–of you.

—

you’re late. of course you’re late on the second week of classes, as if last weeks twenty minute surprise appearance wasn’t humbling enough. 

as you rush out of your apartment, you’re met with jiyoung standing right by the exit, as if she’s been waiting for you—she probably has. this has happened at least once a week last year. she greets you with her signature smile and a small piece of chocolate, a gesture that would be sweet if you weren’t in such a hurry. you force a smile and mumble a quick thanks, but you know what’s coming next. the compliments, the small talk, the forced out, cliché lines she always uses. it’s all part of her routine, but you really don’t have the time for it today. you need to get to class.

fifteen minutes later, you’re finally free from jiyoung’s conversation, but you’re also running dangerously late. again. you sprint across campus, your heart pounding in your chest as you mentally prepare for the inevitable stares and the professor’s disapproving remarks.

when you finally reach the classroom, you throw the door open a little too forcefully. the room falls silent as heads turn to face you, the sudden interruption catching everyone’s attention. you freeze for a second, cringing at yourself when you’re caught in the spotlight, before the professor’s voice cuts through the silence.

“late on the second week? what was it, kim… no, yang…” he trails off, squinting at you as if trying to remember your name.

you clear your throat, feeling your face heat up. “l/n, l/n y/n,” you correct him, trying to keep your voice steady.

“well, you’re lucky i’ve just started the lecture. please hurry and take a seat, you’ve already made quite the impression.”

“sorry, sir,” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration as you scan the room for an empty seat. most of the rows are full, and the weight of all those eyes on you makes your skin prickle with discomfort.

finally, you spot an open seat in the fourth row from the top, right at the edge. you hurry over and drop your bag beside the chair, quickly unzipping it to pull out your laptop. your hands move with practiced speed, signing in and opening a page for notes before setting your bag on the empty seat next to you. you look up, hoping to catch up on what you’ve missed so far. 

and that’s when you see her.

danielle. she’s sitting just three seats away from you, her gaze locked on yours the moment you look up. her big brown eyes, framed by those impossibly long lashes, are full of recognition—and something else you can’t quite place, and why are they sparkling? your jaw tenses as you force yourself to look away, zipping up your bag with a little more force than necessary. three seats. that’s all that separates you from the girl who showed up at your doorstep last friday, the one you dismissed without a second thought. and now here she is, sitting way too close for comfort, her presence making the air around you feel heavier.

of course you blindly chose the spot next to her. the new girl who filed a complaint, only to have the door shut on her. it’s just your luck.

you catch her in your peripheral staring at you for a few more seconds before she redirects her attention towards the professor. you let out a breath of relief, now you just have to get through the next hour and fifty minutes near the cute girl you were an ass to.

–

as soon as the class ends, you’re out the door without sparing a glance at danielle. she watches you hurry out, noticing how you started packing up your things five minutes before class was even dismissed. it’s like you couldn’t wait to get away.

you make your way to the engineering building, where you know your roommate yunjin’s class ended a bit earlier. when you spot her in the lobby, you walk up with a bothered look on your face.

“good morning…?” yunjin greets you, her smirk showing she’s amused by your expression.

“you won’t believe who’s in my sociology class,” you say, still reeling from the encounter.

“everyone takes sociology, even the finance freaks,” she replies, shrugging as if it’s not a big deal.

“nevermind.” you roll your eyes, scoffing. “whatever, let’s grab a bite. i’m hungry.”

“you always are,” yunjin chuckles, stepping beside you.

the two of you end up at your favorite local thai place, sharing a large bowl of fried rice. it’s a familiar routine—since freshman year, you’ve known one bowl is more than enough to satisfy both of you. the memory of that first time, half-drunk and thinking the portions would be small, makes you smile despite your lingering annoyance.

as you chew on your second bite, glancing at a notification on your phone, yunjin’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “so, who’s in your sociology class?”

“danielle,” you reply, not looking up from your phone.

“who?”

“the girl from friday.”

yunjin frowns, trying to recall. “at our party? there wasn’t anyone i didn’t know–”

“no, no. the girl you made me deal with. she knocked on the door—big eyes, long lashes.”

“oh, her,” yunjin hums, finally understanding. “what about her?”

“i closed the door on her that night after she complained or whatever. i didn’t think much of it, but then i was late to class because jiyoung wanted to talk to me, and i picked a random spot… turns out it was three fucking seats away from her—danielle.”

yunjin laughs, thankfully before she can take another bite of rice. “seriously?”

“shut up.”

“that’s hilarious. you think she’s going to give you shit?”

“i mean,” you poke at your rice, hesitating, “she doesn’t seem like she will…”

but even as you say it, the thought nags at you. danielle doesn’t seem like the type to hold a grudge—polite and sweet even when you were being arrogant—almost too good to be true. she looks like she belongs in a fairy tale, with her princess-like appearance and demeanor. meanwhile, you feel like the ugly villain in her story, lurking under the bridge, ready to cast a spell or something like that. the more you think about it, the more ridiculous it seems.

“then you’ll be fine, you were fine shutting the door on her anyway.”

you were fine, but that version of you was under the influence of cheap beer and too focused on going back to your conversation than dealing with someone’s complaint—even if it were from danielle.

“i guess.”

–

the next time you host a party, the volume’s turned down by two notches. you tell yourself it’s because yunjin’s been saying “huh?” to you more often, but deep down, you know that’s not the real reason.

you’ve also decided to stick with one can of beer instead of three. even yujin seemed surprised when you declined the second. 

these parties used to be at jake’s place, but he argued they should be at yours since the ra is madly in love with you, and your place is slightly bigger. you were against it at first, but socializing never hurt, and it made you happy to see others happy. you’d also be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the occasional expensive drink that someone brought when their paycheck had been a bit fatter that week.

now, you’re leaning against the counter while minji rummages through a cupboard, searching for spare plastic cups. you take a sip from your sprite—the second can of the night, and surprisingly, neither has been alcoholic (you don’t count the bitter can of beer, it’s only five percent alcohol). yunjin’s voice cuts through the music just loud enough for you to hear, “you think that girl will show up again? give you shit?”

“i’d hope not.” you pretend it’s a truthful statement, your tone firm, a little snarky, and a bit confident, but there’s a small part of you that hopes she does. you catch yourself imagining her showing up in her oversized sleepwear again, her eyes wide, her voice so soft and sweet it makes your chest tighten a little. 

“and if she does?”

“i’ll shut her out again.”

“and if you show up late, then sit three seats away from her again?”

“ignorance.” you sip on your sprite again, licking your lips to savor something that actually satisfies your tastebuds. 

“you’re good at that.”

“aw, thanks.” you say bitterly, hearing yunjin snicker as she tears open a new pack of red plastic cups. “asshat.”

your orange-haired roommate leans against the counter across from you, then says, “i think jungwon brought penjamin.” his infamous pen, the one you took way too many hits of last time that it had you seeing the stars. 

“not again, i don’t trust myself.”

she laughs at you again, “i don’t trust you either, let’s stick with a hit or two instead of five.”

“and you need to stick with a few drinks instead of passing out on the floor again. you’re lucky you were leaning against the couch.”

“womp womp.” you can’t believe her, what an idiot.

“say that again when you wake up with your legs in the fucking blinds, or something. i still don’t know how you don’t have liver damage, and doesn’t that affect your performance on the court?”

“conditioned to drink and score three’s.”

“whatever.” you sigh, then hear a few knocks from the door.

yunjin raises her brows, then chuckles, “hey, it’s your lovergirl.”

“she’s not my— ugh. be right back.” 

lovergirl, yunjin is going to wake up upside down in her closet if she keeps it up. there’s no chance that she’s attracted to you in the slightest, not with your first impressions. the thought makes you a little dissapointed, but you shake your head, you’re being ridiculous again. 

you shake the thought away, forcing yourself to focus getting to your door and not tripping on the shoe that had been blindlessly kicked off. there’s a quiet anticipation simmering beneath your calm exterior as the music gets more faint in your ears. you tell yourself you’re being stupid, but the truth is harder to ignore—there’s a part of you that wants her to be at the door, even if it’s just to scold you again.

you open the door, and there she is—miss lovergirl herself.

“another party?” she asks, her tone light, almost teasing.

“are you going to tell me to shut the whole thing down? still haven't invested in headphones, have you?”

“actually, i wasn’t going to—the shutting down part, i have headphones being delivered tomorrow.” she replies, smiling. maybe your brows furrow, just a little. “but the music is a little quieter, that i noticed, so maybe my efforts did pay off.” she pauses, then adds, “anyway, my roommate told me there’s no getting through to you about these parties. so, i came here to give you this.” 

she holds out a keychain with a cardholder attached, and you see a picture inside—a photo of you and your little brother at your high school graduation. he’s about twelve in the picture, braces on and cheeks still chubby. it’s one of your favorite photos, and your eyes widen as you take it from her slowly, almost carefully.

“where’d you get this?” you ask, voice a bit more cautious than you intended.

“you dropped it under your seat last lecture. seemed like you were in such a rush to leave, or to avoid me…?” she tilts her head, batting those impossibly long lashes.

you realize she’s not in her sleepwear this time. she’s dressed in everyday clothes—a zip-up over a fitted white shirt, jeans, and some well-worn sneakers. a nike cap sits snugly on her head, her long, wavy hair flowing down in a way that makes you look twice. she’s wearing light makeup, and it strikes you for the first time how nice her lips are, and—

“um, thanks,” you mutter.

“it’s no problem.”

“are you going to ask me to turn the volume down now?” 

she shakes her head, adjusting the backpack slipping down her shoulder. “no, but i'd appreciate it. you’ve already made baby steps.”

if it had been anyone else saying that, you’d have rolled your eyes, maybe even scoffed in their face. but there’s something about the way danielle says it—so genuinely, so kindly—that catches you off guard. you’re used to sharp words and snide remarks, not this… breath of fresh air, this three a.m. glass of water in the form of a person.

“right, okay,” you manage to say.

“well, i'll get going then. my roommate’s friend is coming over to watch a movie with us, so we’d appreciate it if you could maybe turn it down. but, that’s up to you, mate.” 

“oh, okay, yeah.” you feel like you’re melting into a puddle. what is going on with you? “i’ll see what i can do.”

“night then.”

“night?”

she walks off, your eyes follow her until she reacehs the end of the hall. it was the most casual encounter you’ve ever had in a bit, and yet, it felt like so much more. 

–

haerin sits back, watching without a word as hanni and minji bicker over the remote, their voices rising slightly above the hum of the tv. hanni has her arms crossed tightly over her chest, a scowl forming when minji suggests yet another sappy romance. haerin half expects them to start wrestling for control, but just before the tension hits a breaking point, the sound of the door lock twisting stops them. both heads turn to see danielle stepping inside, her hand raised in a small wave, a polite smile on her lips.

“sorry i’m late,” danielle apologizes.

“you’re good,” hanni replies, running her fingers through her hair to fix it. “movie time? can you choose, please…”

“yeah! let me get changed first, okay?”

“okay, okay, but hurry or else minji’s gonna have my limbs cut off or something. and we both know haerin would rather watch than save either of us.” hanni jokes, drawing a chuckle from haerin and a playful glare from minji. 

a few minutes later, danielle is back in an old t-shirt and plaid pajama pants. she drops herself right between hanni and minji, effectively acting as a buffer. she grabs the remote, settling under the blanket as her legs casually stretch across hanni's lap.

“where were you, by the way?” hanni asks, feeling danielle’s legs settle more comfortably over her own. “if the bus was late, you could’ve called.”

“my bus came early. i just stopped by y/n’s,” danielle replies casually.

minji’s head snaps toward danielle so fast it’s a wonder she doesn’t get whiplash. haerin even lets out a small gasp of “what?”

“y/n? you mean l/n y/n?” minji echoes, her tone filled with disbelief. “you went to her place?”

danielle nods. “she dropped something in the class we have together, so i returned it.”

“and she didn’t bite your head off?” minji asks, eyes wide. “you’re really something, danielle.”

danielle just laughs softly, her fingers scrolling through the endless netflix catalog in search of a movie they all might actually agree on. she seems unfazed by the shock that mentioning your name has caused, a slight smile playing on her lips. she can’t quite understand the big deal. you’ve been… normal, for the most part—pretty normal, actually, in the three times she’s spoken to you.

“she’s really not that bad,” danielle shrugs, finally stopping on a rom-com that catches her eye. “i can fix her.”

“you can what?” hanni swivels her head toward danielle, eyes wide in disbelief.

“what?” danielle grins. “she doesn’t bite.”

“well, her friend yunjin does,” hanni mutters, thinking back to the group project from hell with yunjin, who’d spent every meeting hungover and useless. “she’s probably just like the people she hangs out with.”

“no, i bet she’s nicer deep down.”

“you’re too pure for this world,” minji murmurs, feeling danielle’s head lean on her shoulder. “she’s got a bad reputation, you know.”

“well, she turned the volume down for us,” danielle insists.

“she did?” hanni raises an eyebrow, surprised.

“yeah, just before i visited her. i told her we’d be having a movie night and said i’d appreciate it if she toned it down a bit. now we can barely feel the bass.”

hanni thinks for a moment. maybe the music is a bit quieter, but she’s gotten so used to it, she barely notices the difference. minji and haerin, on the other hand, don't deal with the noise often—haerin lives with her parents, and minji’s dorm is on the other wing.

danielle presses play, and the conversation shifts. they all settle in, pushing the topic of you, the downstairs neighbor, out of their minds as they focus on the opening scenes of the movie.

hanni leans into haerin, a smile on her lips as her legs tangle with danielle’s. “you’re so interesting, man,” she mutters, half-amused, half-bewildered.

–

there aren't any assigned seats—it's university, for crying out loud. still, you find yourself three seats away from danielle again, like last time, pretending not to notice her as you settle in, determined not to drop anything today. you set your things down carefully, opening up your laptop and pulling out your ipad, keeping your eyes firmly on the screen.

out of the corner of her eye, danielle watches you fumble with the apple pen, spinning it between your ring and middle finger. she sees it slip from your grip and clatter to the floor beside you. you let out a soft sigh, standing to retrieve it, making your way down two rows. when you straighten up and head back, you catch danielle trying to hide a smile, her shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.

“what’s so funny?” you ask, a little defensive.

“your pen-spinning skills,” danielle says, turning fully toward you with that same amused smile. “slippery fingers?”

“shouldn’t you be reviewing before the lecture?”

“i usually get here fifteen minutes early,” she replies, still grinning. “i’ve already done that.”

“whatever.” you drop back into your seat, tapping away at your keyboard as the professor approaches the front, fiddling with the hdmi cable. you open your notes app, trying to ignore the way danielle’s laughter still lingers in the air.

“you know i don’t bite, right?” her voice breaks your focus.

“what?”

she nods at the empty seats between you. “you’re sitting pretty far… come sit next to me.”

“i’m not getting up. my stuff’s already out.”

danielle rolls her eyes, moving the desk platform in front of her as she stands, gathering her things without a second thought, and before you know it, she’s dropping into the seat beside you. you weren’t expecting that—her choosing to sit next to you so boldly. but there she is, right next to you, with that grin stretching across her face as she adjusts her notebook.

“there, lazy bum,” she teases, her tone light, eyes flicking back to the professor as he sets up the projection.

you find yourself staring, caught off guard by how close she is. she smells sweet—like cherries, with a mix of amber and jasmine. you quickly shift your gaze back to your laptop, opening your calendar and planner and, almost instinctively, the tab with the jacket you’ve been eyeing for weeks.

when you steal another glance at danielle, she’s put on a pair of glasses. stupid, adorable glasses that make her look even cuter—something you didn’t think was possible. 

you can’t help the small grin that creeps onto your face as you focus back on the slides on the big screen, but your mind is still partially with her, sitting beside you, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off her skin.

—

for the next month, sociology becomes your favorite class—not because of the subject, but because it means you get almost two hours near danielle. she’s just as sweet as she looks, always greeting you with a warm smile and tossing out casual small talk that somehow feels more personal every time. she compliments you now and then, little things like “your hair looks nice today” or “i like your shoes,” which leaves you more flustered than you’d care to admit. soon enough, it's routine—you both leave class together, walking side by side until you reach the main lobby of the science building. danielle always waves goodbye with that bright smile, her eyes sparkling, even when the sky is overcast. you smile back, feeling a little bashful, but somehow, it feels right.

sometimes, you even meet up at the entrance of your little dorm complex to head to class together. danielle's just a floor above, so you run into her in the elevator sometimes too. there’s something about her—something so effortlessly charming and magnetic. it’s like she’s a light, and you’re a moth, drawn into her presence without even realizing it.

what you don’t realize is that jiyoung, your ra, has noticed these little interactions. she catches glimpses now and then, her curiosity piqued.

after another class ends, you wave goodbye to danielle, planning to meet up with yunjin, but before you can leave, jiyoung intercepts you. 

"hey, didn’t see you this morning,” she says, her tone casual but her eyes narrowing slightly. “i haven’t been seeing you around as much, actually."

"oh, yeah… i’ve been…” you start, your gaze flicking past her to danielle, who’s almost out of the building. jiyoung looks in the same direction to see danielle as well, her brows furrow just a bit. you continue, “um, spending more time with this girl in my sociology class."

"right, danielle? she’s on the floor above you, right?”

“yeah…”

“hm,” jiyoung murmurs, more to herself than to you. “you’ve been spending a lot of time with her, haven’t you?”

“i mean, yeah. she’s nice and—why does it matter?”

“you’re not into her, are you?”

the question catches you off guard, like a punch you didn’t see coming. you stare at jiyoung like she’s lost her mind. “w-what? n-no, no, she’s just— you know, we’re friends. we’re friendly.”

“nothing more, right?”

“i mean, no, but even if it were… why does it matter to you?”

jiyoung’s gaze drops to the floor, and she mumbles, “i don’t know? i mean, you said you didn’t even want to date.”

you pinch the bridge of your nose, exhaling in frustration. “look, i’ve got to meet up with yunjin. i’ll see you around, okay?”

you turn to leave, but jiyoung’s soft scoff stops you in your tracks. she hesitates for a moment before speaking again.

“by the way,” she says, her tone light but pointed. you turn your head slightly, just enough for her to see the edge of your expression. “you can’t party this weekend. there’s been an increase in complaints.”

you pivot to face her fully, opening your mouth to argue but then closing it again. you bite the inside of your lip, letting the frustration simmer before you finally nod, muttering a resigned, “fine.”

jiyoung watches you, her expression unreadable, as you walk away, but you don’t look back. the weekend suddenly feels a lot quieter than you planned.

—

even if you’d wanted to party, it wouldn't have been an option. yunjin’s gone home for the weekend to help her sister, and you’re stuck in your dorm, feeling sicker than you’ve ever felt.

the day started off fine, just a light headache that you shrugged off. but somewhere between the gym and a quick grocery run, everything went downhill. by the time you made it back to your place, it felt like your body had been run over by a truck. your head throbbed, every limb ached, and a wave of dizziness nearly had you collapsing against the wall as soon as you stepped inside.

you barely made it to the kitchen, dropping the paper bag of groceries onto the counter before stumbling toward your bedroom. the cold hit you like a slap to the face, making you shiver uncontrollably. you rummaged through your closet for the thickest sweatshirt and sweatpants you could find, pulling them on with shaky hands. 

you didn’t even think to check your temperature; the pounding in your head and the chills wracking your body were enough to know you were in trouble. grabbing two ibuprofen from the drawer, you swallowed them dry with a couple of forced gulps of water, then collapsed onto your bed. 

you pulled the covers around you, but they did little to stop the violent shivers. your teeth chattered, and you curled in on yourself, hugging your knees to your chest as if that would somehow keep the cold at bay. every breath felt heavy, every blink longer than the last, until finally, exhaustion pulled you under.

—

the music is noticeably quieter these days, sparing your hearing and everyone else a floor above or below you. really, it’s all danielle's doing. she's somehow found your weakness—those soft, pleading eyes and that gentle voice asking you to turn it down. it’s a saturday night, and normally she’d hear the faint beats of charli xcx or troye sivan vibrating up through the floor, but tonight there’s nothing. 

danielle seems to be the only one in her shared dorm—and probably the whole building—who feels unsettled by the lack of music. the silence is almost unnerving. 

“finally, i can take a nap without those headphones on,” hanni sighs, dropping face-first onto her bed like a log. 

danielle, leaning against her bedframe, bites her lip. “don’t you think it’s weird though? no party tonight?”

“weird? dani, this is a miracle,” hanni mumbles, already half-asleep. “it’s been months since she hasn’t partied, and that was only because we were all gone during summer break.”

but as hanni's breathing evens out and she drifts off, danielle’s frown deepens. it is weird. you’ve never missed a saturday night. she doesn’t even have your number to text and check if everything’s alright.

minutes pass, and her mind races with possibilities—maybe you’re just tired, or busy with something else, or… sick? before she knows it, danielle is up and moving, driven by a strange concern she doesn’t fully understand. she tucks hanni in properly, pulling the blanket up over her instead of letting it dangle off the bed. 

once she's sure hanni is comfortable, she heads for the door, slipping on her slides and grabbing her key. she feels a small surge of determination as she steps into the hallway. if something’s wrong, she needs to know. danielle isn’t sure what she’ll find out, but she's already halfway down the hall, her feet carrying her to your place almost on their own.

she gets to your door quickly, fixing her hair because you’re somehow the only person who makes her feel the need to fuss over her appearance. 

danielle knocks twice, softly at first, just enough to be heard over normal conversation, but there's no answer. she waits, listening for any sound from inside, even from your orange-haired roommate—but nothing. she knocks again, a little louder this time, about the same level as when you party. still nothing. 

determined, she finally bangs on the door with all her might and shouts, "y/n! hello?" her voice echoes in the hallway, and a few curious heads peek out from behind their own doors, wondering what’s going on.

there's a long moment of silence before she hears a faint, “coming! coming...” it sounds like you, but groggier, almost as if the sound is muffled by the door between you two.

danielle waits, her heart pounding in her chest, until the door opens just a crack, and you peek out, looking utterly exhausted. 

“y/n?”

“w-what, what...” you murmur, your voice barely more than a whisper, and slightly slurred, like you’ve been asleep for days. "who— danielle? what are you doing here? there's no party," you mutter, breathing heavily like you’ve just run a mile. "you don’t have to… have to yell at me."

“i’m not here to yell at you, i never yell at you, silly," danielle says softly, a small smile on her face. "can i come in?”

you hum in agreement, and she pushes the door open further, stepping inside. 

the apartment is dimly lit, with only the glow from the streetlights outside and a small lamp in the living room. danielle’s eyes dart around—she’s never actually been inside before, just caught glimpses through the doorway during those parties. it’s surprisingly clean, smelling of lavender and fresh laundry instead of the stale beer or weed she expected. 

you stumble forward, catching yourself on the kitchen counter, your legs shaky and unsteady. 

danielle rushes over, her hand reaching for your arm. “are you okay?”

“y-yeah, i’m fine," you mumble, but your voice is rough, strained. 

she flicks on a light, and you wince, shielding your eyes with the back of your hand. danielle guides you to the couch, sitting you down gently. you slump back into the cushions, and she takes a closer look—your hair is stuck to your forehead, cheeks rosy, and there’s a dullness in your usually sharp eyes.

without thinking, she presses the back of her hand to your forehead, feeling the intense heat radiating from your skin. “you’re burning up,” she says softly, concern etched in her voice. “how long have you been like this?”

“i– i don’t know… i’m so tired…” you murmur, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

“let’s get you to your bed,” danielle suggests. “can you show me?”

you nod weakly, and she helps you to your feet. you sway slightly, leaning heavily on her as she tries to steady you. you’re taller, heavier, and she’s not exactly built for this—but she does her best, slipping an arm around your waist to support you.

your head drops forward, and you breathe slowly against her shoulder. danielle's heart races as she feels the warmth of your breath, and when you look up, your faces are inches apart, close enough that she can feel the heat radiating off you. her cheeks warm up, she wonders if your fever is contagious.

but she shakes it off, tightening her grip on you. “come on,” she whispers. “let’s get you to bed.”

you lead her to your room, and she’s a little surprised by how tidy it is. the walls are painted in soft, earthy tones, the furniture minimalistic and neatly arranged. polaroids and film photos cover the walls, snapshots of you and your friends, some of family, too. there’s a warmth to it, a sense of calm that she hadn’t expected. she notices a movie poster above your bed—something she doesn’t recognize. you collapse onto the bed immediately, curling up into a tight ball, yanking the nearest blanket over you with a groan.

danielle watches you for a moment, then quietly slips out of the room. you lie there, thoughts buzzing in your foggy mind. how did she know you were sick? why is she here? did she come just for you? did you forget something? but the craziest thought of all is that danielle is in your apartment, just the two of you. the realization sends a tiny thrill through your chest.

she returns a few minutes later, carrying a bowl, a bottle of medicine, and a thermometer. she sits beside you on the edge of the bed, nudging you over gently so you're lying flat on your back, your tired eyes meeting hers. she sets the bowl beside you and slides the thermometer into your mouth. you stare at her, feeling a bit dazed, and she offers a small, reassuring smile.

when it beeps, she pulls it out and checks the screen, her brow furrowing slightly. “you’ve got a fever, it’s pretty high,” she murmurs, setting the thermometer down and reaching for a water bottle. “i kind of went through your place to find this, i hope that’s okay.”

you nod weakly, letting her help you sit up on your elbows. she presses the bottle to your lips, and you sip slowly, a few drops spilling out and dribbling down your chin. you reach up, embarrassed, to wipe them away, but danielle just grins at you gently, wiping them with her sleeve.

she places the bottle down and dips her hand into the bowl. you lie back, too tired to care, hearing the soft sound of water being wrung out. then, without warning, she presses a cool, damp cloth to your forehead, and you wince at the sudden chill, a small whine escaping your lips. danielle clicks her tongue softly, using her thumb to swipe a stray drop of water away from the corner of your eye. 

“i know it’s cold, but it’ll help bring your fever down,” she explains gently.

you feel her hand slide down, and suddenly her fingers are wrapped around yours. her thumb brushes over your knuckles in slow, soothing circles, and you let out a shaky breath, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. you hum softly, the tension easing out of your body.

"is it okay if i stay for a bit?" she asks quietly. "i don't want you to be alone, but this is your place, after all."

“p-please,” you whisper, gripping her hand tighter, needing the comfort. “please stay.”

she smiles warmly, nodding, and you feel the weight of her presence, steady and calming, beside you. “i’ll stay close then,” she promises softly. “don’t worry.”

—

you wake up with a low groan, feeling like you’ve just been hit by a bus. every muscle in your body aches, and your head throbs just a bit. blinking against the dim light filtering through the blinds, you sit up slowly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. you look around, trying to get your bearings. 

your gaze falls on the bowl of water beside the bed, with two rags soaking in it, and the thermometer resting on the edge. memories from before you passed out come flooding back, and your cheeks heat up at the thought of danielle sitting by your side, taking care of you. your heart does a little flip at the memory, and you shake your head, trying to steady your thoughts.

there’s no sign of her in your room. she’s not in your bed, and you exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. honestly, if you had woken up to find her next to you, you’re pretty sure your heart would’ve just exploded right then and there. 

with a bit more urgency than necessary, you get up and make your way to the living room. your steps are quiet as you peek around the corner, and there she is, curled up on the couch. she’s asleep, head resting on a pillow, her zip-up hoodie pulled over her legs like a makeshift blanket. the sight tugs at something in your chest, a mix of guilt and gratitude. she stayed the whole night.

you hurry back to your room, grabbing another blanket from your bed, and return to her side. you drape it over her carefully, making sure not to wake her. danielle shifts slightly, mumbling something you can’t quite make out. her face softens in sleep, and you find yourself smiling without meaning to. 

the morning light slips through the blinds, casting a warm glow across her face, illuminating the soft curve of her cheek, the way her lashes fan out against her skin. she looks peaceful, so pretty in the soft light, and you let yourself enjoy the sight for just a moment longer than you probably should.

you let out a small sigh and decide to leave her be, tiptoeing away quietly. but as you move, you can’t help but glance back one last time, her serene expression etched into your memory. then, feeling a strange mix of comfort and nerves, you head to your room to get yourself ready.

— 

danielle wakes up only thirty minutes after you, sitting up a minute after she’s blinked herself awake. she sits up and catches you on the floor by the coffee table, knees drawn to your chest, a bowl of fruit and two pieces of toast in front of you. her vision clears, and she catches you popping a blueberry into your mouth, scrolling absently through your phone.

"good morning..." she mutters, stretching and rubbing her eyes.

you turn at the sound of her voice, surprised to see her up already. she's quicker at waking up than you; you would have stayed in bed for another ten minutes at least, but the pounding in your head forced you up earlier. "hey, i didn’t think you’d stay the whole night."

“i just wanted to make sure you were alright," she explains, moving to sit next to you, mirroring your posture, knees tucked in. "i checked in on you during the night to change the rag on your head and everything, seems like you’re back to normal.”

“you didn’t have to, danielle,” you say, feeling a wave of gratitude mixed with embarrassment.

“but i wanted to.” she shrugs lightly, her eyes softening as she looks at you. “how are you feeling?”

“i took two advils before brushing my teeth," you say with a small smile. "feeling pretty great now.”

“i’m glad. your fever was pretty high.”

“was it?” you raise an eyebrow, grabbing a piece of strawberry and popping it into your mouth.

“yeah.” she picks a piece of kiwi from the bowl and eats it. “i was worried.”

you turn your head, meeting her gaze directly. her eyes look a bit tired, her face bare of makeup, but she still looks good—so natural, so effortlessly beautiful. a thought crosses your mind: you owe her for this, for being so kind and caring when she didn’t have to be.

";ast night i didn’t hear any loud noises from downstairs," danielle continues, “there wasn’t a party going on, and i got a little concerned.”

you chuckle, setting your phone aside, resting your cheek against your knee. “so you came because… there wasn’t a party?”

“it was pretty suspicious,” she insists with a playful grin. “then you opened the door looking like you’d just fought a bear, stumbling around. it was kind of funny, and cute.”

her compliment catches you off guard. you turn away quickly, pretending to be more interested in the fruit than you are. "thank you, danielle," you mumble. "i owe you."

“it’s nothing,” she says softly. "as long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters." her words feel like a direct hit to your heart, it’s as if cupid had a gun instead of a bow and shot you right in the chest, making you feel strangely warm and fluttery inside.

“you’re so… hey, what about your roommate? isn't she wondering where you are?”

“oh, hanni,” danielle giggles, checking her phone for any messages but finding none. “she was passed out before i left last night. it's not even ten yet, so she’s probably still asleep.” she stands up, and you rise with her, feeling a slight pang of disappointment. “but i should go check on her, and fix myself up. i probably look like a mess right now.”

you look perfect. it almost lips right off your tongue, but you manage to shut your mouth.

you lead her to the door, wishing she could stay a bit longer, just a little while more. “of course,” you say, feeling a knot tighten in your chest. “thank you again for everything.”

danielle places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “it’s nothing,” she says warmly. “i’ll see you around.”

you open the door, watching her step outside, but she turns back, hesitating. before she can say anything else, you speak first. "hey, danielle?"

“yes?”

“are you free later?”

“i’m free all day,” she replies, though she adds, “but i might run errands with hanni.”

“right, well.” you play with your hair nervously. danielle tilts her head, noticing the shift in your demeanor. “you should come over tonight. i’ll cook you dinner—to repay you, of course.”

she chuckles, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “that’s quite intimate,” she teases. “is this your way of asking me out?”

“uh—” your heart races, but you nod, swallowing hard. “yes. and i'd hope your way of accepting is… coming over around six?”

danielle's smile widens, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “i’ll see you then, as long as you’re not sick again.”

“i’d count on that if it meant having you take care of me again.”

she glances away, hiding a smile, and you catch sight of the tiny moles on her face. "you're really good at this," she says softly.

“i’m really not,” you admit, “but it’s you, so i thought i’d try a little harder.”

she rolls her eyes playfully, then steps closer and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. your skin heats up instantly, heart racing faster than before. she pulls back with a grin, waving as she says, “see you tonight, six p.m.!”

“see you…” you reply, still stunned as you watch her walk down the hall. she glances back twice, each time your smiles mirroring and growing wider.

you wonder if you should cut down on the weekly parties, maybe dedicate more time to being with her. but that might be getting ahead of yourself. for now, all you know is that you have to prepare the best dinner ever tonight—something that might just earn you another kiss, maybe on the lips this time.

[sophsbookstore]

First Family Snow Day

Auston Matthews x reader ｡･:*˚:✧｡

Word count: 1408

Hockey Masterlist

It was one of those perfect winter mornings in Toronto. The kind where the snowflakes fell gently from the sky, coating the ground with a soft, white blanket. Inside your cozy home, the fire crackled in the hearth, the warmth contrasting beautifully with the chill outside. You were sipping your coffee, glancing at your daughter Chloe as she giggled from her playpen, shaking a rattle in her little hands.

Auston was in the kitchen, prepping breakfast. His usual morning routine was filled with an odd mix of focus and absent-mindedness. You loved it.

“Hey, babe,” you called out to him, eyes flicking to Chloe as she started to crawl toward you.

“Mhm?” Auston answered, stirring something in the pan. He was still in his sweatpants, hair messy as usual, but you found it endearing.

You set down your mug and walked over to Chloe, scooping her up in your arms as she made little baby noises, her chubby cheeks flushed with excitement. “What do you think about taking Chloe out in the snow for the first time?” you suggested, a smile tugging at your lips.

Auston froze, his spatula halting mid-air. “Wait… what?”

You chuckled at his wide-eyed expression. “I mean, she’s never played in the snow before. And it’s a perfect day for it—look how much is falling! We can bundle her up in her snowsuit and go make snow angels or something.”

“Uh… I don’t know.” Auston’s tone was cautious, his brow furrowing slightly. “She’s still so little, what if she gets cold? Or worse, what if she eats the snow?”

You laughed at the image of Chloe scooping up a handful of snow and sticking it in her mouth. “She’s not going to eat the snow, Auston.”

He let out a nervous laugh. “But what if she does?”

“You’re such a worrywart,” you teased, but you could see the genuine concern in his eyes. Auston was, in every sense of the word, a protective father. And you loved him for it. “She’ll be fine. I’ll make sure she’s warm, and we’ll be outside for like… twenty minutes, tops. It’ll be cute. Trust me.”

Auston glanced at Chloe, who was now trying to grab at his pant leg, her tiny hands reaching up to him. “I don’t know. I’m just not sure she’s ready for the snow… or the cold. It’s pretty cold out there.”

You laughed again and pulled him into a playful hug from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder. “You’re such a softie. She’s tougher than you think. Besides, I know how much you love snow. I’m sure you’ll have just as much fun as she will.”

He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair, and glanced out the window. He looked back at you with a defeated look. “Fine. I’ll do it. But I’m staying with her the whole time. No way I’m letting her out of my sight.”

“Deal,” you agreed, laughing as you let go of him. “You’ll have a blast. I promise.”

Auston stood by the door, holding a bundled-up Chloe in his arms like she was a fragile porcelain doll. The snowsuit you’d found for her was absurdly puffy, making her look like a tiny marshmallow. Auston’s jacket was zipped up to his chin, and he wore a face that screamed “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

You giggled at the sight of him, already in full protective dad mode. “You look like you’re about to go play goalie, not take Chloe out in the snow.”

“Hey, I’m just being careful,” he muttered, his eyes scanning the front yard. “It’s really cold out here.”

You slipped your boots on and grabbed your own coat. “It’s not that bad. You should feel it when we’re actually out on the rink. This is nothing.”

You opened the door and a gust of cold air hit your face, but you didn’t mind. Chloe blinked at the world outside with wide, curious eyes. Auston took one careful step onto the porch, shifting Chloe slightly as if she might fall apart at any second.

You laughed, walking past him. “Come on, Auston, you’re acting like you’ve never been outside in the snow before.”

He followed you hesitantly, keeping Chloe close. “I’ve been outside in the snow. But she hasn’t. And she’s my baby. I need to protect her.”

You bent down and scooped up some snow, forming a tiny snowball in your hand. “Watch this.” With a quick motion, you tossed the snowball gently at Auston’s chest, hitting him with a soft “thud.”

“Hey!” he grinned, clearly more relaxed. “That was supposed to be for Chloe!”

You giggled. “She’s not old enough to throw snowballs yet, but I’m sure she’ll be able to defend herself soon enough.”

Auston laughed, the tension lifting off his shoulders. He lowered Chloe carefully to the ground, keeping one hand on her at all times. Chloe let out a surprised giggle, her tiny hands reaching out to touch the snow for the first time.

“Oh my God, she’s so cute,” Auston said softly, his eyes filled with warmth.

You couldn’t help but agree. Chloe, in her puffy snowsuit, was the epitome of adorable as she bent down and clumsily touched the snow, her little face scrunching up as she felt the cold for the first time.

She looked at both of you like she was waiting for some sort of approval, and then, out of nowhere, she let out a big squeal of laughter.

Auston’s face lit up, and you watched as he knelt down beside her, guiding her hand to make a tiny snowball. “Here, Chlo, you just do this…” he said, showing her how to pack the snow.

You caught the moment on your phone, the soft snowflakes drifting down around them as Auston patiently demonstrated the art of snowball-making to a one-year-old. “She’s going to be a hockey player for sure,” you teased, your heart swelling at the sight of them.

Auston shot you a look. “Not if she decides to play in the NHL and do ballet. She’s going to be multi-talented.”

You laughed. “That’s a lot of pressure for a one-year-old.”

“Well, I’m just saying,” Auston smirked, standing up and brushing the snow off his pants, “she’s got my genes. She’s going to be amazing.”

“Your genes?” you snorted. “Right. The genes that had you tripping over your own feet at eight years old?”

Auston glared at you, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “I was learning. I wasn’t tripping. I was… testing gravity.”

“Uh-huh. Sure,” you teased. “I’m sure gravity wasn’t testing you right back.”

Auston laughed, but his focus quickly shifted back to Chloe, who had, of course, tried to eat the snow.

“No, no, sweetie,” he said gently, pulling the snow out of her mouth with a wince. “Yucky. You don’t eat that.”

You chuckled. “See? You were worried about that.”

“I knew it was going to happen,” Auston replied, shaking his head as Chloe giggled, clearly amused by her father’s frantic concern.

After a few more moments of playing in the snow, Chloe started to shiver slightly, and you quickly scooped her up, heading back inside. Auston followed you, his expression still a little worried.

“Do you think she’s okay?” he asked, reaching to take Chloe from your arms as you kicked off your boots.

“She’s fine, Auston. She had a blast out there. We’re going to warm her up with some hot chocolate.”

“Hot chocolate, huh?” he grinned. “I’ll admit, that sounds pretty good right now.”

You put Chloe down on the couch and wrapped her in a cozy blanket. “I’ve got marshmallows, too. The real treat.”

“Now we’re talking.” Auston plopped down next to you, pulling Chloe into his lap and kissing the top of her head. “Maybe snow days aren’t so bad after all.”

You smiled, watching him and Chloe together, the snow still falling softly outside. “Yeah, maybe not. But you’re still the softest dad I know.”

He looked over at you with a raised eyebrow. “Hey, I’m tough. I just care about my baby.”

“I know, Auston,” you grinned. “And she’s lucky to have you.”

And as you sat there with your little family, sipping your hot chocolate and watching the snowfall, you couldn’t help but feel like you were living the sweetest moments of your life.

[urdreamydoodles]

im assuming you're taking requests, so I will bring you Scott, Logan, Jean, Ororo, Charales, Erik with a young kid reader who has a very power mutation and is an omega level mutant, and is now at the mansion because they parents didn't want them

X-Men x Kid!Reader

Their relationship with you—a omega-level mutant

After being abandoned by your parents due to your dangerous omega-level mutation, you arrive at the Xavier Institute, where a X-Man take you under their wing. They help you navigate the overwhelming potential of your powers, becoming mentors and parental figures as they guide you toward self-acceptance and control.

Characters: Scott Summers, Logan Howlett, Jean Grey, Ororo Munroe, Charles Xavier & Erik Lehnsherr

Of course I take requests, don't hesitate to ask again love ♡ And thanks for the idea, I hadn't planned on writing for a Kid!Reader soon but you motivated me to do it. — Love, Marie, your friendly marvel fangirl

Scott Summers (Cyclops)

When you first arrived at the mansion, Scott was the one who greeted you. As a leader, he had taken on the responsibility of welcoming new students, especially those who might be difficult to place. But when he learned that you, a young child, had been abandoned by your parents due to your dangerous mutation, something in him softened. He saw a reflection of his younger self in you—alone, scared, and confused about your powers. He was quiet at first, observing you as you sat in the mansion’s common room, staring out the window, your small form dwarfed by the large surroundings. You didn’t speak much either, afraid of being rejected again.

Scott had been through so much with his own powers, especially as someone whose mutation had caused harm in the past. He understood how overwhelming it could be, especially for a child. He approached you cautiously, always careful not to seem too intrusive. "Hey," he said softly, kneeling to be at eye level with you. "I know things are hard right now, but we’re here to help. You're safe here."

At first, you didn’t believe him. How could anyone help with something as destructive as your mutation? But Scott never pushed you, never forced you to talk about it until you were ready. Days turned into weeks, and little by little, Scott became the constant figure in your life. He would check on you every morning, sitting with you during meals when you felt too shy to sit with the other students. He’d take you to the Danger Room, not for training, but to show you that your powers didn’t define who you were.

As time passed, Scott began teaching you how to control your mutation, sharing his own struggles with his optic blasts and how Professor Xavier had helped him. He showed you that even though your mutation was powerful, it could be harnessed for good. The bond between the two of you grew, and Scott became a father figure in your life, guiding you through the complexities of being an omega-level mutant. Whenever you felt overwhelmed, Scott was always there, his calm and steady presence reassuring you that you were never alone.

The more time you spent together, the more you came to see Scott as not just a mentor but as someone who truly cared for you. He would bring you small gifts—a book he thought you’d like, or a new pair of shoes when he noticed yours were wearing out. He’d sit with you at night when nightmares of losing control over your powers haunted your sleep. Over time, Scott became the person you trusted most, the one who saw past your dangerous mutation and saw you as a person—someone worth loving and protecting.

Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

Logan wasn’t known for being a nurturing figure, but when Charles asked him to keep an eye on you, he couldn’t say no. When you arrived at the mansion, a young kid with a mutation that even the other mutants found intimidating, Logan saw the fear in your eyes. It reminded him of his own past—how he’d been treated like a monster because of his powers. But he didn’t approach you immediately. He watched from a distance at first, letting you get comfortable in your new environment.

You were quiet, withdrawn, and understandably scared of hurting someone with your powers. Your parents had abandoned you, and that kind of rejection left deep scars. But Logan understood that. He knew what it was like to be rejected for something you couldn’t control. Slowly, he began to approach you, always in his gruff, no-nonsense way. "Kid," he’d say, catching your attention one afternoon while you sat alone in the garden. "You hungry? Come get something to eat."

At first, you were hesitant around him. Logan’s rough exterior and gruff voice made him seem intimidating, but over time, you began to realize that beneath all of that was someone who genuinely cared. He didn’t coddle you, didn’t treat you like you were fragile. Instead, he treated you like a person, not just a child. He would take you with him on walks through the woods surrounding the mansion, teaching you survival skills and how to listen to the world around you. Logan wasn’t the type to sit down and talk about feelings, but in his own way, he helped you understand that your mutation didn’t define you.

As your bond grew, Logan became more protective of you. He’d take you out to train, showing you how to defend yourself—not just with your powers, but with your fists. He wanted you to be strong, to not rely solely on your mutation. "There’s more to you than just that," he’d tell you, his tone gruff but kind. "You’ve got a brain, kid. Use it."

Logan was never one for emotional speeches, but his actions spoke louder than words. He’d be there when you had nightmares, sitting silently by your side until you fell back asleep. He made sure you had everything you needed, even if that meant going out in the middle of the night to get you something. Over time, you began to see Logan as a father figure, someone who, despite his rough edges, loved you in his own way. He was the one who taught you that you were more than just your powers, and for that, you loved him back.

Jean Grey (Phoenix)

When Jean first saw you, she sensed the fear and confusion swirling around you like a storm. You were so young, yet your powers were immense, dangerous even, and you didn’t have the control to handle them yet. Jean understood what it was like to carry the weight of powers that felt too big for you. She’d been there once, and she knew how terrifying it could be. So, from the moment you stepped foot into the mansion, Jean made it her mission to help you.

Jean was gentle with you from the start, never pushing you to open up too soon. Instead, she made sure you knew she was always there, a comforting presence in the chaos of your new life. She’d sit with you during meals, smiling softly, encouraging you to try new foods or talk about your day. "You’re not alone in this," she’d say, her voice calm and reassuring. "We’ve all been where you are. It’s okay to be scared."

The first time your powers flared up, it was in the middle of the night. You had a nightmare, and your mutation spiraled out of control, shaking the entire mansion. Jean was there within seconds, her own powers calming the chaos around you. She sat beside you, her arms around your trembling form, whispering soothing words until the storm inside you calmed. "It’s okay," she’d murmur softly. "I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you."

Jean became the mother figure you had never known. She was patient, always understanding that your powers were tied to your emotions. She spent hours with you, teaching you how to meditate, how to center yourself, and how to control the overwhelming power you carried. She shared her own experiences with you, telling you about the times she had lost control of her abilities, and how she had learned to harness them with time and practice.

The more time you spent with Jean, the more you grew to trust her. She was the one you went to when you were scared, the one who held you when the weight of your mutation became too much. Jean was always there, offering comfort, guidance, and love. She never saw you as a danger, even when your powers flared up unexpectedly. Instead, she saw you as a young mutant who just needed a little help finding her way.

As your relationship deepened, Jean became more than just a mentor—she became the mother you had always needed. She was there for every milestone, every step of your journey to control your powers. And when you finally began to master them, it was Jean who stood beside you, her smile filled with pride and love. She had taken you under her wing, and in doing so, she had given you a family.

Ororo Munroe (Storm)

When you first arrived at the Xavier Institute, Ororo Munroe was one of the first faces you saw. There was something about her calm and regal presence that made you feel a little less overwhelmed by your new surroundings. You were still so young, and with your mutation threatening to spiral out of control at any moment, you were terrified. Your parents had made it clear they couldn’t handle the dangers your powers presented, and now you were here—alone, confused, and unsure of what to expect.

Ororo approached you gently, her voice soft but strong. "Welcome," she said with a warm smile. "You’re safe here. We’ll figure this out together." She could sense your unease, the way your powers hummed beneath your skin, ready to burst forth at the slightest emotional trigger. Ororo understood what it was like to have powers connected so deeply to one’s emotions. Her ability to control the weather had once been wild and untamed, just like you.

At first, you were hesitant. You didn’t trust easily, not after the way your parents had reacted to your mutation. But Ororo didn’t push. She gave you space when you needed it, but was always there when you felt ready to open up. She took you under her wing, teaching you how to connect with nature, how to calm your mind and body to prevent your powers from overwhelming you.

She would take you out into the gardens, her favorite place at the mansion, and together you would sit in the grass, surrounded by flowers and trees. Ororo showed you how to focus on the wind, the rustle of the leaves, the soft patter of rain—small, natural things that helped you feel grounded. "Your powers don’t control you," she’d say with quiet conviction. "You control them."

As time passed, Ororo became a mother figure to you. She was always patient, always understanding. She taught you discipline and control, but more than that, she taught you self-acceptance. She helped you see that your mutation was a part of who you were, but it didn’t define you. Whenever you had a rough day, Ororo would be there, offering comforting words and reminding you that you were stronger than you thought.

The bond you developed with Ororo was unbreakable. She was there through every challenge, every triumph, and every setback. With her guidance, you grew stronger, not just in your abilities, but in your confidence. And no matter how many times you stumbled, Ororo was always there to lift you back up, her gentle smile reminding you that you were never alone.

Charles Xavier (Professor X)

You hadn’t said much when you first arrived at the mansion, but Charles Xavier didn’t need words to understand the storm of emotions brewing inside you. The moment he saw you, he could sense your fear, your confusion, and the overwhelming power you were struggling to control. Your mutation was dangerous, unpredictable, and omega-level—something your parents couldn’t handle. They had sent you here, hoping Charles could help, but you felt abandoned, rejected.

Charles had seen it all before, in countless young mutants who had passed through the mansion’s doors. But something about your quiet demeanor, the way you held yourself as though you didn’t want to take up any space, tugged at his heart. He approached you with kindness, offering a gentle smile. "You’re not alone anymore," he said, his voice soft but reassuring. "This is your home now."

At first, you were skeptical. You had been told so many times that you were dangerous, that your mutation made you a threat. But Charles never treated you that way. He was patient, understanding, and always willing to listen. He never probed your mind without permission, respecting your boundaries even when he knew you were struggling.

He spent hours with you in his study, guiding you through meditation exercises, helping you learn to quiet the noise in your mind. "Your mutation is powerful," he’d tell you, "but it doesn’t have to define you. You are in control, not the other way around." His presence was calming, his belief in you unwavering. It was the first time in a long time that you felt like someone truly saw you—not as a threat, but as a person.

As the months passed, Charles became more than just a mentor to you. He was like a father, always there when you needed guidance or support. He encouraged you to push beyond your fears, to embrace your mutation as a part of who you were. With his help, you began to gain control over your powers, learning to harness them instead of being overwhelmed by them.

Charles never gave up on you, even on the days when you felt like giving up on yourself. He believed in you when no one else had, and that belief made all the difference. Over time, the bond between you grew stronger, and Charles became a pillar of strength in your life. You knew that no matter how difficult things got, he would always be there to guide you through it.

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto)

When you were first brought to Erik Lehnsherr, you were terrified. Not just of your powers, but of him. You had heard stories—whispers about Magneto, the mutant who could control metal with just a flick of his hand, the one who had waged wars for mutantkind. But there was no one else who could understand what you were going through. Your mutation was out of control, destructive, and your parents had given up on you.

Erik didn’t approach you like the others at the mansion might have. He didn’t sugarcoat things or offer soothing words. Instead, he looked at you with a kind of intensity that made you feel like he was seeing straight through you. "You are powerful," he told you bluntly, his voice firm. "More powerful than you realize. And that power is something you must learn to control."

You weren’t sure what to make of him at first. He was intimidating, his presence almost overwhelming. But there was something in his words that resonated with you. He didn’t treat you like a fragile child. He didn’t look at you with fear or pity. Instead, he saw potential in you—potential that everyone else had overlooked.

Erik took you under his wing, and while his methods were harsh at times, they were effective. He pushed you harder than anyone else, refusing to let you be consumed by fear or self-doubt. "Fear is a weapon," he would say during training sessions. "And if you let it control you, you’ve already lost."

As the days turned into weeks, you began to see a different side of Erik. Beneath the hardened exterior, there was a deep well of care—especially for you. He had seen firsthand what it was like to be cast aside because of one’s powers, and he wasn’t going to let that happen to you. He believed in your strength, even when you didn’t, and he was determined to help you harness your abilities.

Erik was a complicated figure in your life. He wasn’t soft or gentle like the others, but he was there when you needed him most. He challenged you, pushed you to the brink, but always pulled you back when things became too much. And over time, you came to trust him, to see him as more than just a mentor. He was like a father to you, albeit one with a complicated history.

Under Erik’s guidance, you grew into your powers. He helped you understand that being powerful wasn’t something to fear—it was something to embrace. And though your relationship with him was often difficult, it was also one of the most important connections you had ever made. You knew that, despite everything, Erik cared for you in his own way. And that was enough.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Control Contained

Loki & teen!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: the Avengers take you in when you develop powers, but no one seems to be able to help you control them—until a certain god of mischief steps in

Warnings: panic attack. Canon? Who’s that? We’re setting this in the Avengers compound like it’s 2012, deal with it.

“Hey, I need you to focus.”

You swear Steve—yes, the Captain America—had said that to you at least a dozen times, but you still couldn’t quite get it.

“It’s not working,” you insisted.

“That’s because you’re not focusing.”

“I’m trying!”

Steve’s eyes softened—you hated it when he did that, it meant that he’d given up on being Captain and was ready to be Steve; it meant he thought you were done for the day.

“Look,” he sighed. “I think maybe you’ve had enough.”

“My powers always come out when I can feel them—“

“But that’s dangerous,” Steve argued. “Strength has to be controlled.”

“Yours,” you corrected. “But mine is different—mine is like Loki’s.”

“Not this again,” Steve sighed. “We talked about this. Loki isn’t trusted enough to train new recruits, especially not you.”

“What do you mean especially not me?” You asked.

“Well, there have been a few incidents,” Steve said.

“That was right when I found out about my powers,” you said. “I’m better now. Besides, no one got hurt.”

“Not yet,” Steve said. The grimace on his face showed that he regretted the words the moment they left him. “That’s not what I meant. It’s not your fault, I know you’re trying—“

“But I’m so dangerous that you don’t think I should be around bad influences, is that it?” You took a deep breath, trying to curb your growing frustration. You could feel your powers pulsating beneath your skin.

“That’s not—“

“Why am I even here? So you can keep an eye on me?”

“Kid, stop, I didn’t mean—“

“Forget it.” You shook your head. “Just forget all of it.” You turned to go, but Steve gently grabbed your arm.

“Wait—“

“I said forget it!” You jumped in surprise when a burst of orange shot from your hands, blasting Steve back against the far wall.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and you stared with wild eyes at your friend, your mentor, an avenger, lying on the ground because of your powers. Powers you didn’t know how to use, powers that could hurt people. Steve groaned and lifted himself to his feet.

“You need to calm down,” he barked. “You can’t just—hey, easy, just breathe.” Steve’s tone softened when he saw the way you were trembling and struggling for breath. “I’m totally fine.”

“I’m sor—I’m—I…” you backed away from the man, staring down at your hands. Why had you done that? What if it happened again? You saw Steve approaching you from your peripheral, but you weren’t about to let him.

What if you hurt him?

You wouldn’t give yourself the chance. You turned on your heel and ran out the door before Steve even got close to you.

…

Loki was a bit wary of being around the new teenager in the tower—mostly because the other Avengers side-eyed him every time he so much as spoke to you, as if they thought he were corrupting you.

He felt for you; he couldn’t imagine having to learn about his powers surrounded by—to your eyes—a lot of heroes, nearly all with superhuman abilities. It had been just him and his mother when he learned how to use magic, and he hadn’t even let Thor watch.

It was as if his train of thought summoned you—if only for a moment. Loki barely had time to spot you before you were brushing past him and running for your room. That was abnormal; you always greeted him, always.

“Are you alright?”

The slam of your door was his only answer.

…

Someone was knocking. You’d just hurt Captain America, your heart was pounding, you couldn’t catch your breath and someone wouldn’t stop knocking.

“Y/N? It’s Loki, can I come in?”

Your breath caught in your throat—you couldn’t answer.

“If you don’t answer me I’m going to come in.”

You opened your mouth to try again, then stopped. Did you even want to tell him to go away? After all, he was the one you’d wanted to train you.

But what if I hurt him?

It was too late, the door was opening—

“It’s alright.” Loki was in front of you before you’d even seen him enter the room. “Take a deep breath.”

You tried—you really did—but you couldn’t manage anything better than a wheezing cough before you went back to hyperventilating. Your head was fuzzy, your knee was shaking, and you just couldn’t breathe.

“Ok, too late for that,” Loki muttered to himself before reaching for you and grabbing onto your hands.

“No—“ you managed. You didn’t want to hurt him.

“It’s ok,” Loki assured you. “It’s ok. I want you to let it go—all that power that’s going through you—let it go.”

It was now that you saw the bits of orange floating around your fingers.

“No,” you whimpered. “I can’t control it.”

“You don’t have to,” Loki promised. “You can’t hurt me. Let it go.”

You closed your eyes tightly, forcing a breath in, then harshly out. With your breath, you also forced out your powers, pushing them away to where they couldn’t control you.

“That’s it.”

You snapped your eyes open; the orange of your powers was flowing over Loki’s hands and morphing into green. He was absorbing your expelled energy.

You kept pushing, forcing the magic out until you were spent and collapsing in Loki’s arms.

“It’s ok now,” he said softly. “Do you feel any better?”

You slowly pulled away, taking one deep breath, then another.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “What—what was that.”

“You were having a panic attack,” Loki said.

“I got that—I meant with the magic.”

“You’ve been tamping down your powers and your emotions for too long, haven’t you?”

You swallowed. “They—the avengers—they said I had to have control.”

“You can’t have control by shoving down your emotions,” Loki argued. “You’ve got to feel them, otherwise your powers will build up until they just want to explode. If that had happened somewhere else, it could have been bad. But I know how to absorb energy so it couldn’t go anywhere.”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.” You sniffled.

“Hey.” Loki patted your shoulder. “Your emotions won’t hurt people if you don’t bottle them up like that. I can teach you, really teach you, how to control your powers, and you won’t have to stop feeling. I’ll talk to the team; we will. We’ll convince them, ok?”

“Ok.” you nodded, the ghost of a smile flitting across your face.

“Ok.” Loki stood to leave, but you stopped him with a question.

“Hey Loki?”

“Yes?”

“Where did you learn all that?”

Loki’s face twisted in a smile.

“My mother helped me—when I was just about your age.”

[kathlare]

secretly ours

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie reflects on her whirlwind life, juggling a busy tour with personal moments of connection. After a high-energy performance in Buenos Aires, she returns to a quiet hotel room where she reunites with Lando.

Wordcount: 1.2 k

Warnings: just fluff

full masterlist // request over here!

November 9th, 2023 - Buenos Aires, Argentina

liked by oliviarodrigo, landonorris, and others

ameliedayman: made something special for you guys for the holidays 🤍 'fruitcake' is out 11/17 !!

View all 1,965 comments

holidayvibesonly: THIS + hot cocoa + snow = perfect vibes 🔥 Can’t wait to blast Fruitcake at the family dinner 🎁

hatersgonnahate: A holiday album? Really? How original. 🙄 → swiftie_x_amelie: @hatersgonnahate And yet you’ll be listening to it. Stay mad. 🎄

alex_albon: Do we get exclusive VIP fruitcake privileges, or do I have to preorder like everyone else? 😂 → ameliedayman: @alex_albon Alex, you’re on the naughty list. Lily come and get your man...

cozydayman: You’re literally the spirit of the holidays, Amelie. This is what December needed.

charles_leclerc: Finally, something to replace George’s karaoke Christmas playlist. Merci, Amelie. 😅🎄 → georgerussell63: @charles_leclerc Rude, Charles. But fair. Amelie > me. 😂

ameliefan4life: OMG, CHRISTMAS CAME EARLYYYY 🎄✨ Can’t wait to have this on repeat all holiday season!! 😍 → swiftieintraining: @amelie4life Sameee, we’re about to have a holly jolly meltdown! 🥹🎶

victoria.dayman: SO proud of you, my love! Another masterpiece for the world to enjoy. ❤️

amelieobsessed_22: FRUITCAKE??! 🎄👀 I’m already obsessed and I haven’t even heard it yet!! DROP THE SNIPPET, MILA!!! → daymanfanatic: @amelieobsessed_22 She’s about to own Christmas, I just KNOW it. Queen of the holidays! 👑🎶

lanmielover_98: LANDO IS BACK IN THE LIKES OMG FINALLY! 😭😭 Christmas miracle fr!!! 🎁

--------------

Amelie stepped off the brightly lit stage at the River Plate Stadium, her heart pounding with the residual adrenaline of performing in front of thousands. The sound of screaming fans still echoed in her ears as the crew hustled around, breaking down the set. She’d just finished opening for Taylor Swift on The Eras Tour, and the energy of the crowd had been electric. But even as she smiled and thanked the team backstage, her thoughts weren’t entirely on the performance. They were on the man waiting for her back at the hotel.

Amelie’s lips curled into a small, private smile as she pulled the towel from her neck and dabbed at the sweat on her forehead. Her body ached from the high-energy performance, her legs heavy from hours of dancing under the blistering lights. Yet, the thought of Lando made her pulse quicken in a different way. For the past three days, he had been tucked away in her hotel room, hidden from the world like a well-kept secret. It was risky, sure, but the thought of him being there—waiting for her—was a comfort she couldn’t resist.

The ride back to the hotel was quiet, her driver understanding her exhaustion as she leaned back in the seat, staring out at the Buenos Aires skyline. The city buzzed with life, and she couldn’t help but think about how much her life had changed in the past few weeks. Only a month ago, she and Lando had barely spoken in over a year, and now they were back in each other’s orbit, tangled in a web of emotions that neither of them seemed ready to define.

The elevator ride to her floor felt excruciatingly slow. Her body yearned for a shower, for her bed, and most of all, for him. She swiped her keycard and pushed open the door to her suite, her eyes immediately landing on Lando. He was sprawled on the couch, dressed in a pair of sweatpants and one of his oversized McLaren T-shirts, his damp curls suggesting he’d just showered. The glow from the TV cast soft shadows on his face, and he looked up at her with that boyish grin that made her heart skip every damn time.

—Hey, superstar,— he greeted, his voice warm and teasing.

—Hey, trouble,— she replied, kicking off her boots and dropping her bag by the door. —Been waiting long?—

—Only my whole life,— he quipped, standing and crossing the room to meet her halfway. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a tight embrace that made her sigh against his chest. He smelled like his cologne and her shampoo, a combination that was oddly comforting.

Amelie tilted her head back to look at him. —Missed me, huh?—

—Obviously,— he said, his accent making the word drawl slightly. —I’m stuck in here like a bloody prisoner while you’re out there living it up. Feels a bit unfair, doesn’t it?—

She laughed, the sound light and genuine as she pressed her hands to his chest. —You’re the one who insisted on coming here. Don’t complain now.—

Lando shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eye. —What can I say? I’m a glutton for punishment.— He leaned down, brushing his lips against hers in a way that was soft but carried the promise of something more.

Her fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him closer as she deepened the kiss. The exhaustion from the night seemed to melt away under his touch, replaced by the familiar heat that always simmered between them. But then, as if remembering herself, she pulled back, her lips quirking into a smirk.

—Let me shower first,— she murmured. —I’m disgusting.—

—I don’t mind,— he teased, but he let her go, watching her retreat to the bathroom with a look that made her stomach flip.

The hot water was a blessing, washing away the sweat and grime of the concert. As she stood under the spray, her mind wandered to Lando. To the way he looked at her, the way he touched her, and the way he made her feel like the center of his universe when they were together. It was almost overwhelming, the intensity of it all. But it was also addictive.

When she emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a plush robe with her damp hair falling around her shoulders, she found Lando lying on the bed, scrolling through his phone. He looked up when she entered, his eyes softening in that way they always did when he saw her.

—You’re hogging the bed,— she said, climbing in next to him.

He smirked, setting his phone aside. —It’s a big bed, Ames. There’s plenty of room for you.—

Amelie rolled her eyes but settled beside him, her head resting on his chest as his arm came around her shoulders. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the sound of his heartbeat steady under her ear.

—I can’t believe you actually came here,— she said softly, tracing patterns on his shirt with her finger. —You’re insane.—

Lando chuckled, his fingers idly running through her damp hair. —I think you already knew that. But, come on, Ames, how could I not? A week without seeing you was already torture. If I’d stayed away any longer, I might’ve gone mad.—

She smiled, her heart doing that annoying fluttery thing it always did when he said something sweet. —You’re lucky I didn’t get caught sneaking you in here. Taylor’s security team would’ve thrown both of us out.—

—Worth it,— he said with a grin, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. —Besides, I’m not exactly complaining about being stuck in a hotel with you. Could be worse places to hide out.—

Amelie tilted her head to look up at him, her fingers still tracing lazy circles over his chest. —You mean you don’t miss the chaos of the paddock? The cameras? The endless media questions?—

—Not when I’ve got you,— he said without missing a beat, his voice soft but teasing. —I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love the attention, but this? This is better.—

She laughed, shaking her head. —You’re so full of shit.—

—Maybe,— he admitted, his grin widening, —but you like me anyway.—

Amelie rolled her eyes, but the truth of his words settled somewhere deep inside her. She did like him, more than she probably should, given their history. But here they were, tangled up in each other’s lives again, unable to stay away despite all the reasons they shouldn’t.

She shifted, propping herself up on her elbow to get a better look at him. —You know, you’ve got a race next weekend. Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, resting? Training? Doing whatever it is you racing drivers do?—

Lando shrugged, his free hand coming up to rest on her hip. —I’ve got my priorities straight. Besides, I’m already ahead of schedule. Being here with you is... good for me. Keeps me grounded.—

—Grounded?— she repeated, raising an eyebrow. —I’m pretty sure sneaking around in hotel rooms isn’t exactly what they mean by that.—

He smirked, his hand slipping under the hem of her robe to rest on her bare thigh. —Maybe not, but I’d argue it’s worth bending the rules for you.—

Her breath hitched at the feel of his touch, her body instinctively leaning into him. He had this way of making her forget everything else, of drawing her into his orbit until nothing else mattered. It was intoxicating, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to it.

—You’re such a flirt,— she murmured, her voice quieter now as her fingers trailed along his jawline. —What am I going to do with you?—

Lando’s eyes darkened slightly, his grip on her thigh tightening just enough to make her heart race. —I can think of a few things.—

She laughed, the sound soft and breathless as she leaned down to kiss him. It started slow, her lips brushing against his in a way that was almost tentative, but it quickly deepened, the heat between them building as his hands found their way to her waist.

It was moments like this that reminded her why she’d let him back into her life. Despite everything—the heartbreak, the distance, the uncertainty—there was something undeniable about the way they fit together. Something that made all the risks feel worth it.

—You’re trouble, Norris,— she whispered against his lips, her hands tangling in his curls.

He grinned, his breath warm against her skin. —And you like it.—

Amelie pulled back just enough to look at him, her eyes searching his. —I don’t know what we’re doing, Lando. I don’t know where this is going.—

His expression softened, the teasing edge fading as he cupped her face in his hands. —Neither do I, Ames. But I know I don’t want to stop.—

For a moment, she just looked at him, her heart caught somewhere between fear and hope. Then she leaned in, kissing him again, letting herself get lost in him. Whatever this was—whatever they were—it was theirs. And for now, that was enough.

[coldkidcookieneck]

Title: All By Myself With Severus Snape and Learning to Breathe Again

Summary: Chores turn into training, training turns into tension. A stolen moment in the quiet, a Floo call at the wrong time, and feelings neither of them are ready to say out loud. Peace never lasts long — but for a heartbeat, it almost feels like enough.

Author's note: Hey, my dear readers! The chapter’s here — full of tension, emotions, and a little (ahem) heat. My first time writing smut(be gentle with me, haha)and let me know what you think! Hope you enjoy it.

Pairing: Severus Snape x Fem Reader

Warnings: Emotional tension, slow burn romance, jealousy, and smut

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10 and Part 11 here

Cross posted on AO3

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You woke up tangled in your sheets, the remnants of restless sleep still clinging to your limbs. Sunlight poured through the half-cracked window, far too cheerful for how complicated your thoughts were.

Last night.

That kiss.

On his cheek. What were you thinking?

A groan escaped your lips as you rolled over, burying your face in the pillow. Maybe it had been a spontaneous, heat-of-the-moment thing—maybe. But the way Snape had looked at you afterward, the stunned silence, the conflicted storm in his eyes... it hadn’t been just anything. Still, what's done is done. You couldn’t take it back now—and oddly, you didn’t want to.

Shrugging off the weight in your chest, you stretched with a soft grunt, bones cracking, muscles loosening under the warm golden light. Your eyes swept across the room—and immediately widened.

What in Merlin’s name had happened in here?

It looked like a bomb went off. A very unmagical, lazy-person bomb. Clothes in a sad pile, books stacked at dangerous angles, dust gathering at the corners like gossiping old ladies.

You frowned, taking it all in. Ever since you’d arrived from Spinner’s End—and with everything that had happened between you and Snape—you’d avoided cleaning like it carried the plague. And Snape, bachelor extraordinaire, didn’t seem the type to break a sweat over household chores either. You were pretty sure he relied solely on Scourgify charms and the occasional glare at inanimate objects.

You snorted, actually picturing it now: Snape, sleeves rolled up, sweeping the stairs with a sour expression, muttering under his breath about “filthy Muggle methods” and “bloody dust bunnies.” You’d pay galleons to see that.

But today... today felt different.

The air felt lighter. The tension between you and Snape had eased—if only slightly—and that alone made you feel like you could finally breathe. Maybe, after everything, a bit of normalcy wouldn’t hurt. Cleaning had always been your way of grounding yourself, and considering the emotional rollercoaster of late—your mother’s past, the Death Eater break-in, your painfully complicated not-quite-friendship with Snape—you needed grounding.

You pulled out you laptop from the stacks of messy which still running somehow despite the magic in the air —and hit shuffle on your favourite playlist.

Seconds later, the opening chords of Hot and Cold by Katy Perry blasted through the room, unapologetic and loud.

You smirked. How fitting, honestly. Given your current... "situation."

You started mouthing along to the lyrics—

"You! Change your mind! Like a girl changes clothes!"

—while pulling your sheets off the bed and stuffing them into the laundry basket like a woman on a mission.

It was the same playlist you used to blast back at Spinner’s End, the one that had made your mysterious, scowling neighbor nearly hex your window in irritation.

And now? Now you were in a safe house togather. Cleaning it.

You shook your head and laughed.

“I swear if he walks in while I’m singing this...” you muttered to yourself, grinning as you danced your way toward the door with the basket in hand.

Severus Snape had not slept well.

He rarely did these days, but last night had been worse than usual.

The phantom warmth of a kiss on his cheek haunted him with cruel precision—over and over again, like a looped memory he hadn’t given permission to replay.

Foolish. Reckless. Sentimental.

She hadn’t meant it. Not really. It was the heat of the moment. Relief. Gratitude. Proximity. All things he could logically analyze and neatly fold away, like spare ingredients into glass jars.

And yet…

The image of her, eyes soft and voice barely above a whisper, saying thank you right before pressing her lips to his skin—

Snape grunted, sitting up in bed, rubbing the heel of his palm over his eyes. "Get over yourself," he muttered. "You're acting like a schoolboy."

He pushed himself up with effort. His limbs felt heavy, more from the mental weight than lack of sleep. Wrapping a threadbare black robe around his shoulders, he padded out of his room, fully intending to find tea and silence.

Instead, he heard music. Muggle music.

And not just any music—

A female voice was screaming Hot then you’re cold, yes then you’re no, you’re in then you’re out like a personal attack.

He scowled.

Following the sound (and the suspicious smell of bleach), Snape stopped dead at the top of the stairs.

There she was.

Mop in one hand, the other twirling in the air like she was in a concert. Barefoot, hair messily tied up, sleeves rolled past her elbows, and singing her heart out to what sounded like a passive-aggressive breakup anthem. Her laptop sat dangerously close to a soapy bucket. Her wand was in her waistband. And she was dancing. With actual joy.

Snape remained rooted, unseen. Unheard.

He should say something. He really should. This was his—no, the—safehouse. She shouldn’t be using magic and electronics at the same time. She could get electrocuted. She could—

He sighed, and caught himself.

Because despite the mop, the mess, and the melody that was burrowing into his skull like a cursed earworm…

There was something almost unbearably normal about it.

Something… human.

And when was the last time he felt that?

He scowled again, deeper this time, and cleared his throat.

Somewhere between the second chorus and a particularly dramatic hair flip with the mop, you didn’t hear the creaking floorboards. Or the muffled thud of footsteps behind you. You were too caught up in the beat, twirling like the hallway was your stage.

You sang out loud,

"Used to be, just a stranger, now you’re living rent-free in my—"

"—house of chaos," you improvised.

That’s when you heard it.

A quiet, unimpressed throat clear.

You froze mid-verse, mid-mop, eyes wide, head slowly turning.

There he stood.

Snape.

In the hallway.

In his crumpled black shirt and trousers, sleep still clinging to his face and hair, eyes narrowed in what could only be described as deep, DEEP judgment.

"...What in Merlin's name are you doing?"

Your heart leapt into your throat.

“I—I’m cleaning?” you tried, sheepish.

“With that,” he gestured vaguely at the laptop, “blasting that… that howling banshee’s mating call?”

You blinked. “Katy Perry?”

He blinked back, deadpan. “I stand by my description.”

“It’s called music. Helps with the cleaning trauma.”

He muttered something about muggle abominations and floorboards.

You shrugged. “Look, I needed to do something normal. It was either this or reorganizing the bookshelves by emotional damage rating.”

Snape opened his mouth. Closed it. Then muttered, “Ridiculous,” and turned to leave.

But you weren’t done yet.

“Oh, Professor,” you called sweetly. “One more thing!”

He stopped. Slowly turned. Suspicion radiated from every inch of him.

You smiled. Innocent. Radiant. Dangerous.

“Where’s your laundry?”

“…What?”

“Laundry. You do wear clothes. I assume they require washing?”

“I use a Scourgify charm.”

You gasped, offended. “No. You don’t. Tell me you don’t.”

“I—what on earth is wrong with that?!”

“It’s a crime against textiles,” you said, marching toward him. “Where are they? Show me your sins.”

He backed up a step. “I will not hand you my—”

“You will. Because I know your robes crunch when you walk.”

“They do not!”

“You’re lying.”

You were already halfway up the stairs.

Snape stood at the edge of the hallway for a moment longer, watching her disappear up the stairs with a basket full of chaos and far too much enthusiasm.

He should have been annoyed. He was, technically—at the noise, the recklessness, the absurdity of Hot and Cold echoing through his walls like an exorcism gone wrong.

And yet…

There was a peculiar warmth blooming in his chest. Not the fiery kind that came with anger or frustration, but something quieter. Softer. Foreign.

He watched a dust mote drift lazily in the sunbeam that split the hallway. The scent of cleaning solution still lingered in the air. Faint laughter and footsteps padded upstairs.

This was what normal people did, wasn’t it?

They cleaned. They played music. They bickered about laundry. They lived.

And for the first time in years—possibly ever—he didn’t feel like a half-shadow skulking through the ruins of his life. For a fleeting second, he felt like a man again. A man in a home. Not a prison.

He exhaled.

Perhaps... this wasn’t so intolerable.

By late afternoon, you’d cleaned the upstairs hallway, the bathroom, and had managed to wage war against a particularly stubborn colony of dust under the living room sofa. The house didn’t exactly sparkle, but it no longer looked like a forgotten dungeon with mild hoarding tendencies.

Snape, for his part, had spent most of the day avoiding the chaos with the focus of a man on a mission. You spotted him once—passing silently down the hallway with a teacup in hand, eyes pointedly not looking at your mop—and another time muttering a silencing charm on his study door. You’d nearly cackled.

By the time evening rolled around, you were sprawled on the worn-out couch, limbs aching but heart oddly content. Your playlist had long since died out, your laptop blinking sadly from across the room. You took a long breath and leaned your head back, staring at the ceiling.

Peace.

For once, things felt… almost normal.

Snape stepped into the room quietly, his silhouette outlined by the dimming firelight. He eyed you, then the cleaned surroundings, and then—without sarcasm, without scowling—said:

“You’ve done… quite a bit today.”

You blinked. “Was that… almost a compliment?”

“Don’t push it.”

You grinned. “Duly noted.”

A beat passed.

Then he added, tone slightly softer, “We should resume your training tomorrow.”

Your eyes opened. “Really?”

“You need it. With the situation being what it is…” he trailed off, his jaw tightening. “You must be prepared. You’re not safe—not yet.”

You nodded slowly. “Alright. Tomorrow it is.”

The morning was quiet, save for the faint sizzle from the frying pan and the soft clink of cutlery. You hummed under your breath as you flipped the eggs, the scent of herbs and butter filling the cozy kitchen. It wasn’t extravagant, but it was warm, and it was yours—well, as much as this strange situation allowed.

Behind you, the kettle clicked. A familiar presence leaned past your shoulder, grabbing two mugs.

“You forgot to heat the water,” Snape muttered, pouring it with practiced ease.

“I was busy being impressive with the eggs,” you shot back with a smirk, not even needing to turn.

He gave a soft huff that could have been a laugh—or a scoff. Maybe both. The two of you worked side by side with surprising ease, the domesticity of it all quietly settling in the corners of the house like forgotten sunlight.

It felt unnatural, how natural this felt.

Snape moved on instinct, reaching for plates, pouring tea—his usual sharp movements oddly softened. He watched you out of the corner of his eye: barefoot, hair a mess, a smudge of flour near your wrist.

Ridiculous, he thought. This isn't real. Can't be.

But still, the warmth of the kitchen crept under his skin and stayed there, curling around a part of him he thought long frozen.

Once breakfast was plated, you glanced at the clock and grabbed your wand, slipping on your boots.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” you said over your shoulder, heading to your room to refresh a bit.

He didn’t reply—not aloud, at least. He simply watched you go, then allowed himself a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

You stepped out into the transformed training area—a stretch of land behind the house warded off and cleared. Dummies lined the edges, targets floated midair, and a patch of soft, worn grass had been charmed to cushion landings.

And there he stood.

Snape was already waiting, wand in hand, long cloak swirling faintly in the breeze.

“Ready?” he asked, already walking to the center.

“Born ready.”

He started with spell drills—testing you, watching your footwork, pushing your reflexes.

“Don’t hesitate. That’s how you get hexed.”

You blocked, parried, countered. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, sweat beginning to form at your temples. But something about his presence—the low, steady tone of his corrections, the sharp flick of his wand—kept you grounded.

“Again,” he said, and you obeyed.

Then he disarmed you.

“Wands away,” he ordered, slipping his into his sleeve. “Now, hand-to-hand.”

You blinked. “What, are you going to throw punches like a Muggle?”

Snape didn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, he lunged.

You barely dodged. He swept a leg; you stumbled back. He was faster than he looked—fluid, trained, and completely unreadable. But you’d picked up enough from observing him to hold your own, even if just barely.

He caught your wrist and spun you, pinning your arm behind your back before you slipped under his hold and kicked out—grazing his shin. His eyes narrowed with grudging approval.

And then—you overcommitted.

He moved fast, tackling you gently but with precision. You hit the grass with a soft thud, air knocked from your lungs—and before you could recover, he straddled you.

One hand braced beside your head, the other gripping your wrist, his hair falling forward as he looked down at you.

Your breath caught.

His weight above you. His eyes on yours. His thumb brushing your wrist.

Neither of you moved.

Too close, his mind whispered.

Too warm. Too soft. Too tempting.

Her lips. Her eyes. The way she looked up at him like she saw past the masks.

You are not a man made for peace. Don’t forget that.

“I thought we were training,” you whispered, your voice barely there.

“We are,” he murmured, voice rough. But his gaze had dropped—lingering on your lips, then returning to your eyes with something darker. Something dangerous. Something real.

He didn’t mean to lean closer. He didn’t mean to stay there.

But he did.

And for one awful, perfect second—he almost kissed you.

Then—

CRACK.

A burst of flame at the edge of the yard scattered the tension like shattered glass. Fawkes, Dumbledore’s phoenix, descended with radiant ease, wings glowing in the light. He landed atop a wooden post, tilting his head like a curious observer.

Snape froze above you.

The phoenix trilled, serene and sweet, before letting a scroll drop from its beak.

Snape grabbed it with a hiss, rising to his feet.

Of course. Of bloody course.

You sat up as he read.

“What now?” you asked.

He didn’t look at you. Just exhaled sharply, eyes scanning the note.

“An Order member is coming to collect potions,” he said.

You brushed grass from your arms. “Who?”

He finally looked at you, jaw set tight. “Lupin. Late afternoon.”

You stayed quiet after Fawkes left.

The kiss that never happened still ghosted your lips—an almost, a breath, a tension suspended in time. You kept replaying it. The weight of him above you. The way his eyes had gone dark. How he hadn’t moved until Fawkes had forced him to.

Would he have kissed you? The question echoed louder with each passing second.

You didn’t ask. He didn’t offer.

But when you looked at him after, Snape seemed sharper. Quieter. Guarded again. The softness was gone, tucked away like it had never happened.

The rest of the day passed slowly, your thoughts looping endlessly between what almost was and what you wished had been.

And then—late afternoon.

The Floo flared.

Remus Lupin. Warm brown eyes. A kind smile. Threadbare robes. A presence that felt like fresh air after being trapped in a house of cold stone and colder stares.

And for the first time in weeks, you saw someone who wasn’t Snape. Or Dumbledore. Someone new. Someone safe. Someone... human.

And that shouldn’t have mattered.

But it did.

You found yourself smiling without trying.

“I’m Remus,” he said gently, offering you a hand that somehow felt warmer than it should have. “And you must be the one keeping Severus on edge.”

You laughed. You hadn’t even introduced yourself yet.

“Guilty.”

“Lupin.” Snape’s voice cut in, sharp as a snapped wand. He appeared behind you, like a shadow laced with thunder.

Remus blinked, unfazed. “Severus. I brought the Wolfsbane. Figured I’d pick up what you had ready for Dumbledore.”

Snape’s eyes didn’t leave Remus’s hand—still extended in your direction.

“She doesn’t need your introductions,” he said curtly, brushing past you both into the sitting room. “Or your assumptions.”

You raised a brow, half amused, half confused. Remus simply gave you an apologetic smile and stepped inside.

It was small. Barely a snap. But enough. Enough to tell you something Snape didn’t say out loud. And that was the moment the idea bloomed in your head like a wicked little flower. Jealousy looked good on him. You wanted to see more.

Remus had only visited twice, and yet you could already feel it.

That shift in the air whenever he arrived.

That cold, distant look Snape adopted the moment you so much as greeted the man at the door.

And oh, you saw it.

The narrowed eyes. The way his lips barely moved when he spoke to Remus. The stiff posture that somehow always stood just a little too close when you were chatting innocently about books or tea.

It was infuriating. It was hilarious.

It was… intoxicating.

So, naturally, you did what any emotionally damaged woman with a death wish would do.

You stirred the pot.

Take 1 

You found Snape in his lab that morning, organizing potion jars like they’d personally offended him.

“Professor,” you asked sweetly, peeking over a pile of drying sprigs, “what was Remus like back at Hogwarts? You know, as a student?”

He stiffened.

Didn’t turn.

Didn’t even breathe, for a moment.

“Why?”

You shrugged, tracing circles on the wood with your finger. “Just curious. He’s kind. Funny. Has a nice voice.”

A vial cracked between his fingers.

“I fail to see how that’s relevant,” he said coldly.

You bit your lip to suppress a grin. “So that’s a no on the storytime?”

He turned just enough for you to catch the flicker of disdain in his eyes.

“If you are so invested in the tales of your new... companion, perhaps you should ask him.”

You gave a dreamy sigh. “Maybe I will.”

Severus clenched his jaw so tightly his teeth ached. Companion? She’d known Lupin a matter of days. And yet her eyes sparkled every time he walked in. What exactly did he do that I don’t?

Take two

You made breakfast.

Snape, naturally, refused to eat. He always did when Remus was due to arrive.

“Don’t you like eggs?” you asked, smiling innocently across the table.

“I don’t like being interrupted,” he muttered, eyes flicking toward the Floo.

“So broody in the mornings,” you teased, licking a bit of jam from your thumb.

He watched your tongue for one second too long.

Then, muttering something unintelligible, he rose and disappeared into the corridor.

Take Three

Remus had come and gone.

You could still feel his warmth in the air.

Snape was pretending not to brood on the armchair, buried in a book he clearly wasn’t reading.

You curled up on the rug nearby, pretending to doodle idly on some parchment.

“Do you think Remus has a girlfriend?” you mused aloud, knowing full well the effect it would have.

Snape slammed his book shut.

Your eyes widened dramatically. “Did I say something wrong?”

Every fucking day since that werewolf walked in, she’s been testing me. Poking. Prodding. I should ignore her. I should be above this. But if she touches him again… if she flirts again—

“I think,” he said with barely-contained venom, “you should find a more productive use of your time.”

You tilted your head. “Why? My time bothering you is very productive.”

He stood. “It is deeply irritating.”

“Then I’m succeeding,” you whispered, low enough that he wasn’t meant to hear.

But he did.

Oh, he did.

That night, you caught him staring from the hallway.

Your bedroom door was ajar. You were reading in bed, blanket slipped too low on your chest to be accidental.

He lingered.

Watching.

You didn’t say a word.

She’s doing this on purpose. Wants me to react. Wants me to claim her. I should stay away. But she’s making it... impossible.

You shifted under the covers, turning a page with a sigh that was more breathy than necessary.

He left without a word.

Last Take

And then the last resort and plan, you pushed it too far.

Remus was laughing at something you said. His hand touched your lower back in a moment of pure politeness.

You leaned up and kissed his cheek—again.

But this time?

You felt heat behind you.

Then hands.

Before you could speak, Snape spun you around and shoved you against the closed door, one arm braced beside your head, the other gripping your waist like he was holding himself back from doing something unspeakable.

His breath was fire against your face.

“You think this is funny?” he growled.

“Why?” you whispered, your voice breathless. “Are you jealous?”

His eyes darkened.

And then he kissed you.

There was nothing gentle about it. It was punishing, hungry, brutal. His mouth crashed against yours, tongue thrusting past your lips like he needed to own every inch of you.

“Tell me now,” he rasped, “if you want me to stop.”

You didn’t answer.

You just yanked his collar, pulled him down, and kissed him so fiercely he moaned into your mouth.

He lifted you without breaking the kiss, your legs locking around his waist, your back pinned against the door.

By the time you reached your room, half your clothes were gone.

He threw you onto the bed, staring down at you like he couldn’t believe you were real.

I’ve watched her.

I’ve wanted her.

I can’t stop now.

He stripped fast—robes falling away, revealing pale skin, lean muscle, scars, veins, raw power. You followed, tearing off the rest of your clothes like they were on fire.

And then?

He was on you.

His mouth latched onto your breast, sucking, licking, biting until you arched beneath him, whimpering his name.

His hand slid between your legs.

He groaned. “You’re soaked.”

“You’re taking too long,” you gasped, grinding against his fingers.

He kissed your inner thigh, then pushed into you with two fingers while his thumb found your clit, rubbing circles until your moans filled the room.

She’s perfect. Merlin, she’s perfect.

You grabbed his hair, yanked him up, and kissed him hard.

He grinned against your lips. “Impatient.”

“Starving,” you growled, and shoved him onto his back.

You straddled him, took him in your hand, and guided him into your mouth—slow, teasing, until he bucked beneath you with a growl.

“Fuck—just like that—”

He came with a strangled groan, and before he even fully recovered, he muttered the contraceptive spell, pulled you into his lap, and kissed you breathless.

“Are you ready?” he asked, voice hoarse.

You didn’t speak.

You just lowered yourself onto him slowly—inch by inch—until you were full, stretched wide, gasping as his hands gripped your hips.

You rolled your hips once—and he snapped.

He flipped you over, drove into you from behind, one hand in your hair, the other pressed between your legs.

“Say my name,” he ordered.

“Severus,” you moaned, your voice breaking.

He flipped you again. Legs over his shoulders. Deeper. Rougher. His name a chant from your lips.

Then sideways. Then against the wall.

You lost track of time. Of position. Of sanity.

All you knew was him—inside you, around you, owning you.

When you came, it was a scream and a cry and a wave that ripped through your soul.

He wasn’t far behind—grunting, moaning, biting your shoulder as he spilled inside you.

And when it was over, he collapsed beside you, pulled you against his chest, and whispered into your hair:

“Mine.”

The morning sun was soft against your skin. It streamed through the half-drawn curtains in golden streaks, painting quiet warmth on the sheets tangled around you. A strong arm rested across your waist. A warm chest rose and fell behind you. His breath tickled your shoulder—deep and even.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt safe. Content. Like the world outside this room didn’t matter.

You turned slowly, eyes fluttering open to see Severus Snape.

Still asleep.

Still yours.

And gods, he looked peaceful. Softer in the morning light. Less guarded. Less tormented.

You smiled.

Your fingertips reached up, brushing a loose strand of hair from his forehead, and just for a moment—just a single, foolish second—you let yourself imagine what it would be like to wake up beside him like this every day.

But the moment you moved, the moment your hand pulled back—

He stirred.

His eyes snapped open.

And just like that… everything shifted.

He pulled away like he’d been burned. The warmth vanished. The softness was gone.

“…Severus?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He sat up, legs over the edge of the bed, hands braced against his knees. Tension rolled off of him in violent waves. He didn’t look at you.

“I shouldn’t have let that happen.”

The words sliced through the morning like a blade.

You blinked. “What…?”

“That was a mistake,” he said, low and cold.

A mistake.

The ache started in your chest, blooming outwards like something dying.

“Severus—”

“You need to leave.”

Your breath hitched. “What?”

“You being here… it’s a liability. I can’t protect you if you keep crossing boundaries you don’t understand.”

The way he said it—clinical, detached—like you were just another broken experiment in his lab.

Like none of it meant anything.

But you saw it.

The tightness in his jaw. The way his fists clenched. He couldn’t even meet your eyes.

You shook your head, heart thundering. “Last night wasn’t a mistake.”

“It was,” he snapped, rising from the bed. His voice was sharp, defensive. “I let my guard down. I should have known better.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” he hissed, turning on you now, black eyes hard as obsidian. “You don’t know what you’re doing. You think this is a game? I’m not some fantasy to play with.”

Tears welled before you could stop them. “So what was it then? Just stress relief? A convenient way to scratch an itch?”

He flinched.

But he didn’t answer.

Didn’t deny it.

Didn’t take it back.

The silence was louder than any scream.

Your lip trembled. “You’re a coward.”

He said nothing.

You stumbled out of bed, grabbing your clothes, clutching them to your chest like they could protect your heart from shattering. You didn’t even look back as you ran from the room.

Your door slammed shut behind you. You collapsed against it, sliding to the floor. The first sob ripped free before you could swallow it down.

He didn’t follow.

Didn’t knock.

Didn’t explain.

And you hated that you still wanted him to.

Snape stood in the middle of his room, jaw clenched so tightly his teeth ached. The bedsheets still smelled like her. His fingers curled into his palms, nails biting deep into skin.

Stupid. Stupid.

He had tasted her skin, heard her moan his name—and still he let her go.

He’d never be able to have her without destroying her.

He’d made a mistake.

He had to fix it.

He threw on his robes, ignoring the tightness in his throat, and stormed out of the house.

The room and bed were cold and dark.

Your body still ached from the night before—not from pain, but the phantom of his touch. The warmth of his skin. The weight of him above you. Inside you.

You had kissed him like he was your beginning and end.

And he had left you like you were nothing.

“It was a mistake.” “You need to leave.”

The words played over and over like a curse you couldn’t shake.

You curled tighter under the blanket, staring at the door, hoping—stupidly—that he’d come back. That this was all some sick defense mechanism and not his truth.

But hours passed.

And he didn’t return.

So when the knock came, your heart leapt.

Hope bloomed before logic could kill it.

You climbed out of bed, barefoot, still wrapped in a jumper that smelled like him. Walked through the quiet house, each step heavy with silent prayer.

Please be him.

You opened the door—

“Hey,” Remus said, gentle and concerned. “You look…”

His brows furrowed. “Are you alright? What happened?”

You blinked at him, tears rushing to the surface. It wasn’t Snape. And this was the first time he came through the front door and not the floo.

But it was someone. Someone kind. Someone who didn’t leave you bleeding in silence.

“He pushed me away,” you whispered, voice breaking. “Said it was a mistake. Like it meant nothing.”

Remus stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice low, sympathetic. “You don’t deserve that.”

And the way he said it—it sounded so real.

You felt yourself lean into him, desperate for any sort of comfort. Any sort of touch that wasn’t cruel and fleeting.

His arms wrapped around you. Familiar. Warm.

He pulled back slightly, cupping your cheek.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said softly. “Let’s get you out for a while. Breathe. Clear your head.”

You hesitated. But Snape didn’t want you. So… what was there to stay for?

“Okay,” you said.

And just like that, your fingers wrapped around his.

You closed your eyes. And together, you Disapparated.

The ground beneath your feet felt wrong.

You opened your eyes.

No field. No trees. No soft wind. Just fog. Grey. Empty.

Dead silent.

Your heart twisted.

“Remus?”

He turned. But the warmth had faded.

That expression—that subtle smirk, the tilt of the head—it wasn’t him.

And then, the voice.

Low. Mocking. Familiar.

“You really didn’t recognize me?” “I did throw you down the stairs, after all.”

Your blood turned to ice.

You stepped back.

His form shimmered—and the Polyjuice wore off.

The man from your house. The Death Eater.

Same eyes. Same smirk. Only this time, no mask.

“Been waiting to repay the favor,” he sneered.

You raised your wand—

Too slow.

A stunning spell hit you square in the chest.

You collapsed instantly, limbs numb, mind swimming.

Before the world went black, you heard his voice again, cold and delighted.

“The Dark Lord will be thrilled to meet you at last… Carrington.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

[petvlss]

Beer and Naps -> Jisung

I have ZERO motivation so here we are a draft from the shorts event :).

college!au, bf!jisung, drinking, drunk!jisung, clingy!jisung

word count:670

shorts Masterlist

*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Your boyfriend wasn’t new to parties or drinking. Hell, there wasn’t a weekend where he wasn’t invited to at least one. But you never really minded. You loved him and figured he just needed to get it all out of his system before settling down, when you were both ready.

One warm Friday evening, you were laser-focused on your final project for AP Art. Music blasted in your ears, your mind deep in strokes and colors, when your phone buzzed with a call from an unknown number.

You hesitated before answering. “Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N? It’s Minho.”

You’d heard of Minho from Han—one of the party throwers.

“Oh, hey. Is something wrong?” You could hear the thump of bass and voices shouting in the background.

“No, not wrong exactly… Han’s just really drunk. We thought someone should come get him.”

Your eyebrows knit together. “How did you get my number?”

“You’re his emergency contact. In his phone.”

Your heart leapt into your throat. Emergency contact? He had pinned you?

“Right. Yeah. I’ll be there soon.” You hung up, opened Life360, and pinged Han’s phone.

The drive felt longer than it was. You finally pulled up to the house—already packed, the music thumping so hard you could feel it through the steering wheel. Half your school seemed to be there. You stepped out, suddenly hyper-aware of your hoodie and paint-stained jeans. A strange mix of FOMO and imposter syndrome hit you like a wave.

You took a breath and pushed through the crowd—sweaty, loud, chaotic. Your shoes stuck slightly to the floor as you weaved past people playing beer pong and singing off-key. Just as your feet started to ache and your patience wore thin, you heard it.

A voice, slurred and unmistakably Han's: “And when the animals grow up… they can speak!”

You rolled your eyes and pushed toward the voice, finding Han leaning dramatically on an exasperated Chris.

“Chris, I swear it’s true!” Han swung a red solo cup in the air, nearly spilling it.

“Is it true, Han?” you called out, amusement dripping from your voice.

His head snapped toward you—and lit up like a sunrise.

“Y/N! You’re here!” He launched off Chris and practically fell into your arms.

“I owe you, Y/N,” Chris muttered, disappearing back into the crowd.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?” you said, guiding Han out the door.

He rambled the whole way to your apartment, eyes barely open but mouth running a mile a minute.

“I’m telling you, Sunshine… Minho did fight that bear.”

“Sure he did,” you humored him, guiding him into your room.

You helped him out of his jacket and shoes, then gently pushed him onto the bed. You were just about to return to your desk when he reached out with limp arms.

“Cuddles?” he asked, his bottom lip jutting out, eyes glassy with sleep and alcohol.

You chuckled softly. “Fine.”

Sliding into bed beside him, you felt his arm lazily wrap around your waist.

“I love you, Y/N,” he mumbled into your shoulder.

Your heart softened.

“I love you, too, Han.”

[chris-slut]

𓈒𓏸 𖦹 best friends brother ⸝⸝ 🥂 .ᐟ ׄ ׅ ྀ

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𖦹 ׅ ࣪ dom!chris x bfb!reader , enemies 2 lovers & best friends brother!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𖦹 ׅ ࣪ smut, oral!fem, fingering, nicknames; (baby, mama/ma, good girl, etc!), p in v, protected sex.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 𖦹 ׅ ࣪ sydney has been best friends with nick since she could remember. her and chris have always found eachother attractive but have had a hatred against eachother for ages. what happens when someone can’t keep his hands off syd at a party?

authors note; i hate this but i needed to post.

purple; nick

blue; matt

orange; chris

pink; sydney

green; madison (beer)

“okay bitch, you ready to go!?” nick says as he fixes his tie from around his neck, looking over at sydney. the corners of her lips turn up as she gives him a nod. “yup! let’s go, i am ready to get drunkkk!”

the pair walks down the stairs to matt and chris, sydney going over to the couch and grabbing her purse with only lipgloss in it.

chris carefully watches her every move, taking in the outfit the girl is wearing. he wishes he could be the one taking it off her tonight, but he knows he could never. she’s just nicks best friend.

sydney took notice of chris looking at her and gave herself a slight smirk. she’s always thought of chris in ways no one should think of their best friends brother, but who cares? cause surely she doesn’t.

“hey chris,” sydney mumbles to him as she walks past him, walking out of the sturniolo’s house. chris just nods his head in her direction as he puts his hands in his pockets and follows her to the car.

sydney sits next to nick in the back as she plugs her phone in to connect to the aux. “no mrs.swift and we’re good, alright syd?” matt says to her as she nods in response.

the group was going to their friend, madison’s, house for a party she was throwing for her new album.

it only took a few minutes to get there since the sturniolo’s live not to far from the girl. sydney was the first one to quickly get out the car and walk up to the front door, giving a polite knock.

madison opens the door with a huge smile, “heyyy syd!! it’s been so long girl oh my gosh? come on in!” she says as madison opens the door wider for the girl.

the rest follow behind her as they go in separate directions, from the dance floor to the drink stand. chris doesn’t stay to far from sydney tho, not for any specific reasons of course..?

sydney quickly gets to the dance floor, random people surrounding her as the song “moth to a flame” blasts through her ears.

a random boy walks over to sydney, running his hands over her body as he grinds against her in a dancing manner slowly. as chris see’s this, his grip on his drink tightens.

who is this man? and why is his hands on MY woman?

before any bad thoughts could enter chris’s mind, his feet move him towards the pair, pushing past anyone or anything that’s in his way.

“sydney? what’s going on over here baby?” chris says as his hands wander to his waist, shooting the guy a look.

“what— why are you call-“ before she could finish her scentence, chris’s lips hit hers. the boy quickly walks away as chris’s hands roam all over her body.

a whimper passes her lips which makes chris’s tounge enter her mouth. before anything gets to heated though, she quickly backs away as her eye meet his. “what was..” sydney says as she catches her breathe, “what was that for?” she finishes.

“i don’t like how that boy had his hands all over you. he can’t do that. you’re my girl, not his.” chris admits as his lips ghost over hers.

“let’s go somewhere else, alright?” he whispers against her lips as he grabs her hand and pulls her to madison’s guest bedroom.

sydney feels her back get pressed up against the door as a click fills the room, indicating the doors locked. wasting no time, chris smashes his plump lips against hers.

teeth clashing and wet noises fill the room as their lips move against eachother for was feels like hours. “let me take this off you, yeah?” chris says as his fingers hook in the loop of her denim skirt. sydney nods as he swiftly takes them down.

“fuck chris..” sydney quietly whispers as his head dips between her thighs. chris kitten licks her core through her panties as his hands run up and down her thighs. “don’t stop, please,” she whispers as chris nods against her.

“i don’t think i could stop even if i wanted to syd,” chris whispers as he rips her panties off with his teeth, going right into her clit. a loud groan escapes sydney’s lips which makes chris put 2 fingers into her mouth.

chris’s tongue pushes into her as he sloppily places wet kisses against her core. he slowly slides his fingers out which caused a pop from sydney’s lips.

he places the 2 fingers into her as he slowly pushes them in and out of her. “ohhh fuck chris!” she moans a little louder than the last time, her chest rising up and down. “just like that..” she whimpers out.

“fuck mama, so good. always so good for me,” chris praises as he looks up at her, his fingers knuckle deep in her. sydney tries to contain eye contact but as she reaches her high, she quickly looks away.

“if you don’t keep eye contact i’m gonna stop, alright ma?” chris tells her which makes sydney quickly look at him. “o..okay,” she breathes out as chris smirks to himself.

“atta girl,” he whispers as he plunges his fingers in her at a faster pace. sydney’s legs begin to shake, “close.. close!” she screams out as her legs begin shaking faster this time. “let it out baby, cum all over my fingers.” he tells her.

sydneys chest slows down as she lets out on his fingers. chris sticks his fingers in his mouth as he tastes her on his tongue. “oh fuck chris..” she breathes out as she catches her breath.

chris begins to take his pants off with his underwear as he lets his hard cock out his pants. “jesus..” she whispers to herself as she looks at it. how’s it gonna fit?

“don’t worry baby, you can take it,” chris tells her as he grabs the condom from his back pocket and putting it on. “why do you—“ sydney begins asking but gets off when she feels chris thrust into her.

“oh FUCK,” sydney moans out as her hands go to chris’s hair, tugging and pulling on it. his pace fastens as he leans down to place a kiss against her throat.

the room is filled with skin slapping noises as moans from both of them. “i’m so close baby..” chris whimpers out as his hands move to her throat as he thrusts harder into her.

sydney’s lips part as she’s a sweating, moaning mess. “gonna cum chris, gonna cum!” she moans out loudly as she realeses all over chris’s cock.

chris lets out not to late after her, pulling out and tieing the condom up. he throws it into a piece of toilet paper and puts it in the trash can next to them.

“that was—“ chris whispers out as he puts his full attention right back onto sydney. “yeah..” she replies back as she puts her clothes back on, not bothering to get cleaned up.

“don’t think this is the last time we’re doing that. i hope you know you’re mine. you’ve been mine syd,” chris says as he leans against her ear, placing a kiss behind it.

“trust me chris, i wouldn’t let it be,”

[simplyraeblue]

hunter and hunted (jjk)

college (summer) break au: a fic in which y/n is pining over Yuji's older brother Sukuna, while unbeknownst to her, Choso is doing the same thing for her. contents: sukuna x reader, choso x reader, modern college AU, yuji and choso are brothers, sukuna and yuji are brothers, eventual smut warning as I'm planning for this to come in parts

chapter warnings/tags: drinking, stupid touchy men, physical violence (choso literally saves you with a punch) index part three | part five

part four word count: 1,532

you couldn’t believe Yuji Itadori had managed to drag you out tonight. all you’d wanted was to snuggle up in bed and binge-watch tv, but no—your best friend was insistent on hitting a bar, with Megumi and Nobara in tow.

“you know I really hate here, right?” you said, sticking out your tongue as Yuji handed you a drink he’d bought.

“oh, that’s a shame,” Yuji teased, grinning as he took a sip from his own cup.

“come on, y/n, hang out with the cool kids tonight!” Nobara shouted, slinging an arm around your shoulders. Megumi rolled his eyes, but you were grateful for his presence, even if he seemed just as reluctant as you.

“let’s kick things off with some shots!” Yuji matched Nobara’s enthusiasm, grabbing your arm and dragging you towards the bar. the bartender looked like he was wishing for a trapdoor to open beneath him.

“what can i get for you guys?” the bartender asked, his voice dripping with irritation.

“four shots of… hmmm… tequila, please,” Nobara answered. you opened your mouth to protest, but the bartender was already grabbing the bottle and pouring the shots. clearly, he wanted you all to leave as quickly as possible. “put it on the Fushiguro tab.”

“seriously?” Megumi deadpanned from behind Yuji.

“before we take these, can someone please tell me if we have a plan to get home?” you asked, silently hoping one of them would have an answer. they all shook their heads, and you felt a wave of defeat as you clinked your shot glass with theirs and downed the tequila.

god, you’d forgotten how much you hated tequila.

of course, Yuji and Nobara kept you and Megumi well-supplied with shots and drinks all night, making sure you had enough alcohol in your system to stick around. at some point, you stopped resisting.

the alcohol had you feeling fantastic—loose and relaxed as you danced with your friends. the dj was blasting beats that would’ve put Choso’s set to shame, and you were sweating and swaying to the rhythm, practically grinding against Nobara.

“Yuji, I’m still mad at you!” you shouted over the music.

“oh no, what did I do? let me beg for your forgiveness,” Yuji replied with a dramatic pout and big, sappy puppy-dog eyes.

you waved him off, realizing he was a lost cause. in fact, you were a lost cause too. what time was it, anyway?

you decided to excuse yourself to the bathroom and checked your phone on the way—it was well past midnight. ugh, no time for a shower if you wanted any sleep tonight.

as you turned the corner towards the women’s restroom, you bumped into something solid. or rather, someone solid.

“hey, good lookin’,” a tall guy said, smirking down at you with eyes that seemed barely open.

“excuse me,” you muttered, trying to sidestep him. he grabbed your upper arm, and you bristled at the contact.

“wait, hang out w’ me for a minute,” he said, pulling you closer. just as you were ready to use the self-defense moves Yuji taught you, something else grabbed his attention long enough for you to wrench free and hurry towards the bathroom. he called out after you, “I’ll be right here waiting f’ you!”

as soon as you locked yourself in a stall, you pulled out your phone again. you tried calling Yuji—no answer. Nobara? also no answer. with a sigh, you dialed Megumi as a last-ditch effort, but got nothing.

you really didn’t want to go back out there and risk running into that guy again.

taking a deep breath, you pulled up the next contact on your list. you wanted to go home and get some sleep anyway; surely your friends wouldn’t mind.

“hello?” Choso’s voice was low and groggy, like he’d just woken up.

“Choso, can you come pick me up?” you asked quickly, trying to push aside the guilt in favor of self-preservation.

“where are you?” Choso replied, rustling noises in the background suggesting he was already getting up. “send me your location.”

you told him the name of the bar before hanging up and sharing your location. fortunately, the bar wasn’t far from Yuji’s place; Choso might just walk over.

while you waited in the stall, you could still hear the man shouting outside the bathroom door. he wasn’t shouting at you, but he was close enough to be unsettling. you decided to stay put until Choso arrived or one of your friends showed up to rescue you.

your phone pinged with a new message from Choso: found the three stooges. where are you?

you braced yourself as you unlocked the stall door and pushed out of the bathroom, focusing on your footsteps and silently praying the guy you’d run into wouldn’t notice you.

“oi! there you are!” fuck. you felt his hand grip your arm again, and you turned to face the skeezy guy. “was just telling my friends how smokin’ hot you are—let them see!”

you glanced past him to see three other guys, all bigger than you and sharing the same drunken, leering expressions.

“alright, they’ve seen me. now let me go,” you said through gritted teeth, tugging at your arm in an attempt to free it.

“hold on a minute, let me buy you a drink,” the guy slurred, nearly stumbling into you as he pulled your arm.

“I said, let me go,” you snapped, pulling against him with more force. where were your friends?

“hey, no need to be bitch so why don’t you shut your pretty mouth and-”

“I believe she told you to let her go.” you froze at the low, threatening voice that spoke up behind you. daring a glance over your shoulder, you saw Choso, eyes dark and body tense as he eyed the man who had a hold of you.

to you, he looked like your knight in shining armor.

“’scuse us, man, we’re just on our way t’ the bar,” the guy said, trying to wave Choso off. but your eyes pleaded with Choso for help.

“i don’t think she wants to go with you,” Choso said firmly, stepping forward and grabbing the guy’s hand on your arm. “now, let her go.”

“what’s your problem, man?” the guy snapped, glaring at Choso. “this bitch isn’t even that good-looking.”

you blinked, and in an instant, Choso’s fist connected with the guy’s face. your arm was freed, and you looked down at the guy, clutching his probably broken nose.

“don’t call her that,” Choso growled. before the guy’s friends could react, Choso took your hand and started pulling you away from the scene.

“y/n, where’d you run off to?” Nobara slurred as Choso led you back to the group.

“whoa, what happened to your hand, Choso?” Yuji asked, noticing the blood on Choso’s knuckles.

“I’m taking y/n home,” Choso said firmly. “you either walk home or call me if you need anything.” he then grabbed Megumi’s shirt to get his attention. “you’re the responsible one—don’t let these two do anything stupid.”

once Megumi nodded in agreement, Choso began guiding you out of the bar, still holding your hand.

“thanks for stepping in back there,” you said once you were outside, away from the blaring music.

“you don’t need to thank me,” Choso replied, slowing to walk beside you.

you weren’t sure if he realized he was still holding your hand, but it felt comforting, so you decided not to mention it.

“I never took you for the type to resort to physical violence so quickly,” you teased, catching a blush on his face.

“it’s just what you do for the right people,” he said quickly, making you blush in return.

“I probably could’ve handled it myself, but you were a real knight in shining armor,” you joked, and Choso chuckled.

“yeah, I’m sure you might have done something even worse,” he said through his laughter.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

it wasn’t until you were back at the house that Choso noticed he was still holding your hand. his face turned bright red as he quickly let go, flustered and apologizing.

you excused yourself to change out of your bar clothes and returned to the kitchen in your pajamas to grab a large glass of water before bed.

“do you need anything before I head back to sleep?” Choso asked, handing you a glass he’d already filled. what a gentleman

“a bedtime story and a tuck-in,” you joked.

“only if you ask nicely,” Choso replied with a teasing smirk. you suddenly felt a wave of heat and laughed to push away your awkwardness.

“if I can’t fall asleep without it, I know where to find you,” you said, and although you meant it as a tease, you weren’t entirely sure it was just that.

Choso nodded, and you both said goodnight before heading to your separate rooms.

as you lay in bed, you tried to figure out if the warmth you felt was from the alcohol or from the interaction. you drifted off to sleep, comforted by the memory of the sweet, sweet memory of Choso breaking a stranger’s nose for you. Sukuna probably would’ve just killed him.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

[jinxposting]

Jason Todd x Jinx! reader Chapter 4

Different

The next time you saw Robin was while you, Joker, and Harley were robbing Gotham City Bank.

These were your least favorite kinds of missions. Banks had a certain time limit for their silent alarms, which means limited fanfare. Limited fun. Boring. Thank god the Bat showed up, otherwise today would've been a total snooze fest.

You fiddled with a grenade in the back seat of Joker's convertible. He swerved through the streets haphazardly, Harley shooting behind you at the batmobile. You glanced back but couldn't catch a glimpse of bat nor bird through the tinted windshield. You tossed the grenade over your shoulder. The blast sounded behind you, but the armored vehicle never let up it's relentless pursuit.

A grappling hook shot out from the front of the batmobile. It pierced a tire, Joker's car skidding to an abrupt stop. Once the ground stopped moving you readied yourself to sprint. Before you could however a hand grabbed you by the shoulder. You swung your elbow back with force. The assailant dodged, spinning you around in the process.

Robin.

"Hey, Boy Wonder! Fancy meeting you here."

"In a car chase? Pretty standard for you."

The boy froze. You could feel his eyes scanning you head to toe.

"You look... different."

You picked up one of your braids with a twirl. "All natural now, baby!"

"W- How?"

"Took a nice, long chemical bath."

"What? Why did- did Joker-"

"Relax, baby bird. It's family tradition."

"Some family." He grumbled.

Now that struck a nerve.

"At least my family doesn't make me dress up like a weak, little bird."

"Better than actually being weak and little."

You swung a fist. Similar to before, he blocked it. Unlike before, he didn't block the butt of your gun. Robin stumbled backwards with a newly split eyebrow.

"Seriously?!"

"Deadly."

He swept your legs, which you narrowly avoided with a quick jump. In one fell swoop you kicked him in the chest, sending him tumbling to the ground with a grunt. He recovered in time to kick you up and over himself. You rolled to a stop, rising to your feet, fists up and ready for a fight. In the blink of an eye Robin matched your posture.

A punch flew past your head, you weaved out of the way before the second could land. "You shouldn't have taught me how to fight."

The boy smirked. "Didn't teach you everything."

Suddenly your world was turned upside down. Literally. Before you could even process what had happened you were handcuffed and slung over the boy's shoulder.

"Wha-"

"And back to the batmobile we go."

"Put me down!"

"I will. In a restrained chair."

"You dick!"

"Jason actually."

"... Huh?"

"Nothing. Inside joke."

Robin stared at you in silence. Batman was still attempting to track down Joker's route, which left you two sitting silently in the batmobile.

"... You look sick."

"Really? That's your opening line after ten minutes of nothing? You really know how to charm a girl."

"I'm serious. Your skin is pale. And your hair is... well..."

"Green?"

"Yeah."

"It was like that when we met!"

"You know what I mean! You used to be you and now you're just... Joker Jr."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Probably 'cause it is."

"To you maybe."

"Why... How can you be loyal to someone so evil?"

"How can you be loyal to someone so cold?"

He opened his mouth only to close it. "It's a long story."

"Ditto."

Another wave of silence overtook you two. You watched the boy adjust his gloves almost anxiously.

"You think one day we'll be them?"

"Who?"

"Joker and Batman. You think when they're old and retired we'll be the next them?"

"Never thought about it... I hope not."

"How come?"

"I want a rival that can actually rival me."

"Fuck off."

"I mean it. You keep learning to fight - and not just from me - then maybe I'll let you be my Joker."

"Your Jinx."

"My Jinx."

"And you learn how to have some fun and maybe I'll let you be my Batman."

"Isn't your idea of fun blowing up buildings?"

"Yup!"

"Well that's not gonna happen."

"Such a party pooper. You already are Batman."

The boy smiled at this.

"Batman and Jinx."

"Jinx and Batman."

"We'll work on it."

[ericshoney]

Mini Matt and Chris day ~ Chris Sturniolo

Today you had planned a day out with Chris. You had planned to get Taco Bell and then bowling.

"Mini Mattttttt, you ready!" Chris screamed from the living room.

You laughed and went to see him standing there looking bored as he scrolled through his phone.

"I'm ready." You said, already heading to the car.

"Hey woah wait for me!" He shouted, running after you.

You laughed as you got in the car, starting the engine. Chris jumps in the passenger seat, plugging his phone in and blasting some tunes out.

"Oh I like this one." You said as the song played loudly.

"Yes!" Chris shouted.

You giggled as you began driving to Taco Bell, roughly remembering which way to go. Chris was singing along to the music as you tapped your fingers on the steering wheels.

When you arrived at Taco Bell, you parked up in a space, not wanting to face the drive-thru today. You both got out and headed inside and before you could even tell Chris what you wanted, he had started to order.

"Hi, can I get a large Pepsi and a large root beer...."

You smiled as he continued to order for the both of you. Once he had ordered everything, Chris paid and when he wasn't looking, you slipped some money into his sweatpants pocket.

"You wanna eat in here or the car?" He asked as you waited for the food.

"Umm, car please." You answered, noticing how busy the restaurant was.

Chris nodded and once the food was ready, he grabbed it as you both walked to the car, happily sitting in it eating and watching people drive about. One thing you loved was watching people drive or walk past as you ate.

"How you feeling today, kid?" Chris asked you, chomping on his tacos.

"I'm alright, slept good last night and don't feel partially anxious or anything." You answered.

"That's good to hear. Well are you ready to get destroyed in bowling?" He called with a chuckle.

"In your dreams, bro." You responded, making him laugh.

You then drove to the bowling place, which luckily didn't have as many people. You got everything you needed and started to play. Chris cheering as he got a strike instantly.

"Luck." You said, making him stick his tongue out at you.

"Your so childish." You laughed, taking your turn.

"And your just Mini Matt." He responded.

"Not an insult. Plus you love me." You fired back, bowling the ball and also getting a strike.

"Your not wrong, kid. Your my little sister." He said, hugging you tightly.

You smiled and loved the times you shared with the guys, either as a whole group, or separately.

[s7arryxo]

ೃ⁀➷ 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟓 * ੈ✩‧₊˚

➼ 𝙖𝙥𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙖𝙘𝙨

✦ 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗲 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

✦ 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝗱𝗿𝘂𝗻𝗸 𝗮𝘁 𝗮 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘆, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗿𝘂𝗻 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗵𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗯𝗼𝘆 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗲, 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗶𝗻𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗺𝗼𝗸𝗲. 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗮𝗿, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝘄𝗼 𝗮𝗴𝗿𝗲𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝘂𝗽, 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗵𝗶𝗺 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗶𝗴𝗵 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱.

✦ 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝗱𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝘀𝗺𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗰𝗮𝗿 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝗱𝗿𝘂𝗻𝗸 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝗵𝗶𝗴𝗵 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝘂𝗵𝗵 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗲𝗹𝘀𝗲 𝗹𝗺𝗸

✦ 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 𝟭.𝟯𝗸

✦ 𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧’𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: 𝘆𝗮𝗹𝗹, 𝗶 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗺𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 @ginger4sugar 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗘𝗫𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗟𝗬 𝗯𝗲𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗱, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘄𝗲’𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗻 𝗶𝘁! 𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗮𝗿!!! 𝗴𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗮 𝘁𝗿𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵 𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝟴 𝘁𝗼𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗺𝗿! 𝗼𝗸 𝗴𝗼 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱 (𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗳 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱). 𝗹𝘂𝘃 𝘂 <𝟯!

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ 𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿’𝘀 𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝟰 ࿐ྂ

Music blasted and colored lights landed on every surface of the huge house you were partying in. Your favorite drink, pink whitney, swished around in your stomach as you took a random shot of some Svedka one of your friends had just poured up for you.

Cheers of encouragement came from around the island as your already drunk ass motioned your friend for another shot. As the liquor poured in the shot glass, your body reacted to the sound the beat as your favorite song began blasting in the living room.

Completely forgetting about the requested drink, you immediately ran towards the crowd ready to obnoxiously scream every part of the song, drunkenly slurring the lyrics together. However, before you could make it into the mob of people, your homeboy, Connie, ran into you, eyes red from smoking in the backyard.

“Hey, Connieee~” you said, dragging his name out annoyingly. “Wassup, y/n” he replied, wrapping his arm around your waist bringing you in for a hug. “I was gonna ask you to come get a drink with me, but I think you beat me to it” he laughed, loosening his grip on you, still resting his arms around you.

“They’re playing my songg” you said, pushing past him attempting to go hang out with the rest of the partygoers who were dancing and chatting in the room in front of you.

“Hollon-“ he said, grabbing your arm, pulling you back close to him. “Come smoke wimmie”

You sighed, weighing the two options in your head, before reluctantly agreeing. Connie pulled your arm outside where the lawn was sprinkled with abandoned cups and random people having intoxicated conversations. “Where are we going?” you laughed, stumbling around, barley being able to keep up.

“Right here” he replied, stopping right in front of his car, opening the door to the backseat. You got in and waited for Connie to appear in the adjacent window. Your head was pounding but you agreed to hang out with your best friend anyways.

Eventually, he joined you in the car, plopping down next to you, pulling what looked like a gram of weed out the pocket of his jacket. You closed your eyes and leaned your head against the window, still talking as you rested your eyes.

It was until you felt a tap on your shoulder that you opened your eyes and saw smoke already filling the car and a lit joint in Connie’s hand. “Damn, my bad” you said, eyes widening, tucking the joint between your two fingers.

The two of you talked for a few minutes, passing the blunt between each other, until it was almost completely burnt. As Connie inhaled the last hit, he grabbed your chin pulling you a mere inches away from his face.

He parted your lips slightly before blowing the smoke into your mouth, causing your intoxicated mind to get turned on almost instantly. Before you could even process what you were doing your head leaned forward, enclosing the smoke in both your mouth and Connie’s.

Although you thought he would pull away from the kiss, it felt as if he was encouraging it, slipping in tongue, slowly moving his hand from your face to your waist. “Sorry” you whispered, breaking the kiss for a few seconds only to succumb to the seduction of your friend once again.

“All good~”

Whether it was the alcohol, the weed, or simply Connie making you aroused, you couldn’t stop your hands from reaching for his pants zipper as you positioned yourself aimlessly in the backseat of his car.

“I got it-“ he mumbled, unzipping his pants, revealing his bulge. He tossed your legs over his shoulder, before kissing you once more and calling out to you.

“Y/n?”

Your heavy lids finally forced themselves open, giving you the ability to look Connie in his eyes. “You okay with this?”

A smile grew on your face and you nodded, closing your eyes once again allowing everything to take place.

You heard the words “I’m gonna take care of you, alright?” shortly after feeling a pair of hands gently pull down your panties. The only reply you gave was a groan, now having to deal with not only the pounding in your head but the one in your pussy too.

A girthy tip penetrated your pussy, causing you to moan at the pacing he entered you. Slowly, he used his thumb to bury his dick deep into your cunt, watching as you easily swallowed his shape.

After filling you up with his cock, the sound of him spitting on your pussy followed by the wet sounds of him moving around inside you filled your ears, causing you to smile at the euphoric feeling of getting fucked under the influence.

His hands repositioned themselves around your waist, using them to help move your body in your diminished state. His slow, sultry movements allowed his dick to glide against your walls with ease, as if your body was meant to be one with his all along.

It wasn’t until his thrusts became harder and he’d ram himself against your g-spot, that you caught yourself moaning unforgivably loud. Not once did he shush you or muffle your noises, despite you two being in the driveway of a house were a party was taking place, leaving both of you vulnerable to being seen.

His hands began to guide you deeper onto his cock, however this time, he shoved himself in and out of you a bit quicker, causing the sound of your thighs smacking against his to fill the car. Brokenly, you begged, only being able to form the name of the boy fucking you and the word “More~” on your tongue.

Your moans held a sense of weariness, while still managing to keep all their volume. You were honestly too wasted to show any sort of excitement, despite your eager pleads of wanting Connie to continuously stretch out your cunt.

Before you could form the words to express you were about to cum over your homeboy’s dick, you hips had already began bucking and your fingernails had started dinging themselves into Connie’s forearm. “Connie- Con-“

Your whiny moans were cut off as Connie unexpectedly pulled every inch of himself out your pussy, only to put his swollen tip against your lips. As a few drops of cum dripped onto your face, you mindlessly stuck out your tongue as Connie gave himself a few pumps, causing him to empty every drop of his nut into your mouth and onto your flushed cheeks.

After catching his breath, the boy reached under the seat, grabbing his pants and your panties before swiftly handing them back to you. As you slipped your undies over your heels, Connie reached his hand to the front of the car, opening the center console, grabbing something out if it.

“Take 4. You’ll need some for the morning.” he advised, placing 4 painkillers into the palm of your hand before slipping out the car and moving himself to the drivers seat. A non verbal “thank you”, was given as he noticed your smile and nod through the rear-view.

Taking two of the pills using no drink caused you to shake your head disgustedly from the nasty aftertaste. After doing so, you noticed Connie was not only buckled up, but the car was moving. “Where are we going now?” you asked, curious and a little concerned on where he was driving you.

“Your house, y/n. If you think I’m letting you go back into that party when you’re already so out of it, your more fucked up than I thought.”

You giggled, letting out a sigh of relief as you laid your head against the window, closing your eyes, hoping you could get some sleep. “Thank you” you mumbled tiredly, already being able to feel your headache disappearing.

When the night first began, if someone asked you if you could see yourself hooking up with Connie, you probably would’ve said no. However, after tonight, it’s come to your realization that whenever you need him, whether it be to rant about something bothering you or simply wanting some dick, he would be there, he would take care of you just like he said he would.