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#I didn’t think I’d love her more than I already did
fujoshimenacecw · 1 day
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A conversation between Moto Hagio, Hideaki Anno, and Shimako Sato
In our first ever translation work we share a riveting conversation between Moto Hagio, Hideaki Anno, and Shimako Sato! Read on our wordpress or keep reading on tumblr under the readmore
For the 189th issue of the Magazine House publication Hato yo! published January 1st 2000, movie director and screenwriter Shimako Sato leads a three way conversation between herself and her acquaintances, the anime and live action movie director Hideaki Anno, and manga artist Moto Hagio. Together they discuss their respective admiration for each other’s work, Anno’s past statements on otaku, their takes on parent-child relations, how to escape puberty, and why Anno finds it scary to be around children. 
To Me, There is 5 Ways To End a Story
Hagio: I got really into Neon Genesis Evangelion after it finished airing (laughter). I had been told by an acquaintance that Eva was a work that had “fans who were looking forward to watching the series so enraged by the developments in the final episode that they broke their TVs” (laughter). I wondered what could a work that evokes such strong emotions be like? I was really interested, so I borrowed the VHS tapes from a friend of Shimako-san’s, then I started watching.
Anno: I’m a big fan of Hagio-san’s manga, so when Shimako-san first said she could introduce us and arrange this meeting I was truly happy. The fact that you took an interest in Eva is an honor but… When I first heard “to me, there are five ways to end a story” I thought “as expected; amazing!” So after several twists and turns I finally reached a conclusion
Sato: Anno-san, when did you first encounter Hagio-san’s work?
Anno: The first one I read was They Were 11! during its serialization. In elementary school I read it at the Ear-Nose-Throat Doctor. I generally read manga at the waiting room there or at the barbers, since I didn’t really get any manga to read at home. When I read They Were 11! back then I was blown away. After that I read Hyaku Oku no Hiru to Senoku no Yoru [trans: Ten Billion Days and One Hundred Billion Nights, original story by Ryu Mitsuse]. My favorite work is Half-god [Hanshin]. The fact that such a meaningful story could be told in only 16 pages is amazing. I think Hagio-san is a genius storyteller, but her art is amazing as well. In middle school I thought that if I copied Hagio-san’s art I’d become better at drawing.
Sato: If you had also imitated her storytelling would that perhaps have changed Eva’s final episode? (laughter)
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Saving the world, love and hatred
Anno: You know, I don’t have much interest in concluding a story.
Sato: Do you hate wrapping a furoshiki? [trans note: a traditional wrapping cloth]
Anno: No, it’s that I think you can do more with a furoshiki than tie it up pretty. Like break it or tear it to shreds, all kinds of things.
Sato: If we include all that, isn’t that still doing the act of wrapping?
Hagio: In your case Anno-san, I find your way of grasping the world unique.
Sato: For both Anno-san and Hagio-san, even with the differences between manga and anime you’re making a serialized work, right. When you make a long-form work, is the ending something that is already decided? Or is it something that changes?
Anno: For me it’s something like a live performance, and ends up gradually changing as I create the work.
Hagio: I’m a bit too careful, so I can’t draw if I haven’t thought of the ending. An exception is when I made Star Red. Otherworld Barbara which I made later also ended up becoming an exception 
Anno: Star Red’s ending was magnificent. I was also influenced by Star Red. Actually, I’ve written some dialogue similar to the one in Star Red’s ending 
Sato: Which of the characters do you like?
Anno: Well, the protagonist.
Sato: I like Elg. At first I thought he was a rather unreliable person, but he gradually came to play an active role. By the end he revived a dead planet through love.
Hagio: I also like characters like that!
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Sato: When I watch Anno’s works like Eva I feel like you are more the kind of person who saves the world through hatred, what do you think?
Anno: I don’t know 
Hagio: That feeling of uncertainty becomes the foundation of your storytelling doesn’t it? I come to think that that feeling is something so overflowing you can’t tie it all together. 
Sato: It seems you have some differences when it comes to making a story, but I think one thing your stories have in common is perhaps parent-child relations?
Anno: That is true, Hagio-san. Your relationship with your mother appears in your work…
Hagio: When I was a child, my older sister was my mother’s favorite, I was always compared to her. It seemed my mother thought that compared to my sister I was unreliable so she always worried about me, even when I was into my thirties she’d tell me to quit making manga.
Sato: And that was during The Poe Clan’s heyday wasn’t it?
Hagio: (laughter) When I was watching Eva, something that really caught my attention was Shinji-kun worrying about whether or not he was useful to his father. Yet there was a distance from his father. During that time I was very interested in, to put it into words, “broken relations.” 
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Otaku Are Generally Uncool
Sato: Anno-san, in your work I think father-son relations is something that makes an appearance. Are there any real experiences behind that?
Anno: My family was normal. If I have a complex it would be that we were a poor family rather than a just normal one, and my father has only one leg. Regardless, I think stories about parents are the simplest to make, it’s easy. 
Sato: So since Eva is a parent-child story it ended up like that?
Anno: What makes it easy is that we have some preconceived assumptions about [parent-child relations], “have you argued with your parents?” and such.
Sato: What appears in your work isn’t those things, but your own internalized problems don’t you think.
Anno: That appears to be it. As for my family we truly were the archetypical lower middle class household. My father was a good person. A sensible man. When you’re under circumstances like my father was you have to live sensibly or else you’re excluded.
Sato: So in opposition to that, you became an otaku.
Anno: That might be it. Your most important model for what normalcy is is your family. But I have a younger sister and she is exceedingly normal. She doesn’t read manga, there is nothing twisted about her at all.
Sato: And by twisted you mean?
Anno: That she’s not an otaku.
Sato: Anno-san, you’ve said that you hate otaku, haven’t you.
Anno: It’s not hate. It’s just that I think otaku are uncool. To otherwise not notice that you’re uncool or purposefully suppressing that fact makes me feel disgusted.
Sato: What about The Matrix? Isn’t that a cool otaku movie?
Anno: That one is also uncool.
Hagio: Even though Keanu Reeves is cool.
Anno: Keanu is cool. Because he is not an otaku. The otaku are the Wachowskis. They can’t get out of the confinements of their otaku-ism. So for example, even if they make something cool, part of it will for certain be otaku-like Even though I say this I don’t hate it. If I truly did I’d quit being an otaku.
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Sato: Hagio-san, would you say your family was normal or was it perhaps affluent?
Joh (Hagio’s manager): Hagio-san and her mother actually have a similar biorhythm. It was perhaps due to that fact that Hagio rebelled by pursuing the path of becoming a manga artist. 
Hagio: I might have been running away by drawing. But, if I had rebelled by becoming a delinquent I think it perhaps might’ve been more enriching to me as a person.
Anno: To become a creator is not something I think is a happy path to go down. In order to not be unhappy you have to work for dear life. At the very least create works as if you’re going back to zero [from the negatives].
Hagio: Is it a negative? Because you are an otaku?
Anno: Being an otaku is a huge negative. You make up for it either by relying on others or by producing creative works. With that said, I think my generation has it easier than yours, Hagio-san. This is an era where even old men read manga. My parents even now have no issues with my line of work. I appear in Asahi Shimbun, I appear on NHK, they have nothing to worry about. That is also why I will try not to ever refuse any coverage from my hometown newspapers.
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Hagio: But don’t you think parents don’t truly understand? Even if I become famous, my parents will say; can’t you quit drawing manga? And just appear in the newspaper? (laughter)
Sato: But if you quit drawing manga you won’t appear in the newspaper. (laughter)
Hagio: In that context, a part of me still expects too much affirmation from my parents. Not externally but internally. Even if I appear in Asahi Shimbun I still end up thinking it’s not good enough.
Sato: The fact that you still worry so much about what your parents think at your age Hagio-san, it’s so strange.
Hagio: Yes, I think so too
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Anno: Could it be that you have to become a parent to change that part of you that worries so much about what your parents think?
Sato: I don’t worry at all about what my parents think.
Anno: I also don’t care even a little bit. As far as I’m concerned, I’m bored if I get my parents’ approval. When I did Nadia: The Secret Of Blue Water for NHK I felt that feeling.
Sato: Do you have a replacement parent figure?
Anno: Well, a man without imaginary enemies is no good. For me right now, I think I want to make works that have Hayao Miyazaki beat.
Sato: Hagio-san, your worries might also be what gives birth to your works.
Hagio: That might be the case.
Sato: Anno-san, earlier, you said “you have to become a parent to change.” I personally don’t think if you don’t have children you can’t become an adult. I think that being an adult is being independent in everything you do. That’s why I think marriage or having children doesn’t change anything.
Anno: You can become a parent without being an adult. At 17 or 18 you could become a parent. To become a parent without even being an adult, that is the problem I think. 
Sato: Do you consider yourself to be an adult, Anno-san?
Anno: I guess I’m a child. 
Sato: I don’t consider my parents to be adults.
Hagio: I’m very discontent with the fact that my parents aren’t adults.
Anno: I’m not discontent.
Sato: For me realizing that my parents aren’t absolute adults was a relief during my middle school years. Until then I had played the role of an exemplary student, but when I realized that fact I stopped playing that role. 
Hagio: So you’re a child who didn’t fit into your parents’ expectations. I was also a child who didn’t fit into my parents’ expectations, but the fact that they didn’t shrug their shoulders and say “that’s fine,” filled me with anxiety. I thought that if I become an adult I’d lose that anxiety. But I want recognition from people. I continue to request affirmation. 
Sato: Anno-san, in Eva you portrayed children like this, but are you like this yourself?
Anno: The affirmation? Hmmm. That kind of thing changes with the project.
Hagio & Sato: ?
Anno: I don’t believe in the supremacy of the director of a work, but rather the work itself. What would be best for the work, I only base my judgment on the total. Although I won’t hand over the executive decisions.
Hagio: Manga is a one-man job, but with a movie there’s the director, the scriptwriter, the actors, etc. Each of them sees themselves as a leading part. Furthermore as living beings the things we do will sometimes diverge from the plan we made in our heads. The fun of living is discovering what those differences will be.
Is Eva The Rite of Passage That Will Get Us Through Puberty?
Sato: The movie Love & Pop that you directed Anno-san, the original creator Ryuu Murakami-san and yourself are both men, yet the story is about high school girls. I found that interesting.
Hagio: I thought that both of you wanted to be very similar to an archetypal girl. You said you wanted to see a part of puberty, and girlhood that you couldn’t control. After all, men aren’t just made up of boys. I believe that femininity and masculinity is something we have combined within us. Sort of androgynous.
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Sato: The boys you create not having that vivid true-to-life quality to them I think is a representation of that. Anno-san, as a man, what do you think of the boys in Hagio-san’s manga? 
Anno: I think they have empathy. I think what I like the most is that all the characters are smart. Because they have such a high intelligence it feels good to read.
Hagio: Like a washing machine right at the peak of its cycle, I want to leave my characters on the verge of that kind of critical point [of merger]. To be honest, the idea that once you’re past 30 you’ve become an old lady, that sense is something we’ve left behind.
Sato: I’ve found that when men become old they lose their ability to be nihilistic in their work, is it the same as that?
Anno: In the case of men, as you age, the world view [of your fiction] rather than your characters come to reflect your nihilism. You don’t aspire to be nihilistic, you yourself are becoming nihilistic. Your world view is what gradually utilizes nihilism. Isao Takahata, for example, is a nihilistic person. Nothing is born from being nihilistic. As nihilism is Plus-Minus-Zero, eventually your heart can’t be moved.
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Hagio: A world that doesn’t change, isn’t that comfortable? 
Sato: Even though in order to grow you have to fight. By asking like this, Anno-san, did you not experience puberty?
Anno: That might be it.
Hagio: I thought you were right in the middle of puberty.
Anno: I thought I’m losing it, but it might be puberty. Generally speaking, otaku don’t go through puberty.
Hagio: I thought otaku went through a prolonged chronic puberty.
Anno: It’s not what society ordinarily calls puberty.
Hagio: A never ending puberty, in this age, could it perhaps be because there are no more rites of passage? 
Anno: Sure enough, you have to bungee jump. (laughter)
Hagio: A ritual to let your childhood die and then replay it, such a thing doesn’t exist now. Taking entrance exams may be the closest to [a rite of passage].
Sato: Don’t you feel like lately that age around 30 is when the coming of age ceremony actually happens?
Hagio: For that part, that’s when the stories takes on that role I think.
Sato: As a ritual?
Hagio: It’s not a ritual, but perhaps more intuitive? A trial run on a mock life. By that definition, I noticed Eva is just like that. I had an acquaintance who is a teacher from the Kyoto Steiner school. They saw the Eva movie in theaters. At that time they found the reactions of the people watching to be more interesting than the story. They had thought, isn’t it like we’ve all come to see the rite of passage which we all failed? I thought so as well “that’s right, that is interesting.” The rite of passage to become an adult after entering puberty, be it Gundam or Eva those stories put people in a position where they are observing the world, observing themselves, experiencing war and such.
Sato: Anno-san, were you considering all this…
Anno: I didn’t make it like that. But when I was making the movie I was thinking of this a little. 
Hagio: When I watched Eva it ended up overlapping with the book Childhood [by Jan Myrdal]. It’s a book about a mother who can’t love her child. She thinks “I have to take care of this child”, but even so she can’t love him. I wonder what happens to children raised like this. Children learn from their parents. In truth there will be consequences for the parent, but the question on my mind was children who can’t find their place with the parent, where can they find their place instead? Although I thought you were such a person when you were making Eva, Anno-san. (laughter) 
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Sato: Speaking of, the other day you were on a TV show teaching grade schoolers about anime, Anno-san. What do you think of children?
Anno: I was scared of being in contact with children. I don’t understand the appropriate distance to take. I believe even the most casual thing an adult says mustn’t traumatize them, I end up becoming oversensitive. In grade school during still drawing class, I’d draw roof tiles and other detailed things, but humans moved around and I found it annoying, so I never drew people. Because of that my teacher said “this isn’t a child’s drawing,” which deeply hurt me. In the end, from that experience I think it was a part of the reason why I decided on working with drawing. Even though I opposed standardized education, I really felt the difficulty of dealing with not having a basic manual.
By the way, how much longer until Zankoku na Kami ga Shihai Suru [trans: A Cruel God Reigns] ends? I made a mistake. I wanted to read it all at once, right, so I refrained from buying it but… when volume 6 came out I ended up buying all of them. 
Hagio: Oh yes, right. July next year I think. 
Anno: Understood. Then the final collected volume will be out in the fall of next year. Hmm well that means I can enjoy it for another year. Understood. 
Sato: Isn’t that great.
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Translated by mod Juli, with assistance from two financially compensated native speakers.
A scan of the full interview raws will soon be added for posterity.
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abiatackerman · 1 day
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Everything for peace, for humanity
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Warnings: Angst
"You look.... Nice."
You smile sadly as you watch Levi in his wedding suit.
"You'll scare the guests off if you're gonna keep that scowl on your face. Try to smile. It's your wedding day. Don't ruin your soon to be wife's day at least."
You say as Levi’s eyes flicker to meet yours, his usual stoic expression unwavering. That is a look you know all too well. Still, you know you are right, he has to at least try to look the slightest bit happy, even if he clearly doesn’t want to.
"I actually didn't want to come here today... To your wedding."
You chuckle as you speak even though your heart is bleeding.
"But we're colleagues, we've been working together for a long time. As a member of the Survey Corps, I had to come."
You smile as you look at him dreamily, leaning on the door.
Oh how bad you imagined that how he would look on his wedding day. You knew he would look handsome. And he's looking handsome too. More than you imagined.
But the difference is he's marrying a beautiful girl from a powerful family of Marley instead of you. To make a truce between the Paradise island and Marley.
For peace. For humanity.
Levi slowly takes a few steps closer to you, his eyes fixed firmly on yours, his voice is low and rough.
"And yet, you still came here."
The sight of you leaning against the door, smiling at him with that look in your eyes, is too much to handle. His heart is pounding painfully in his chest, a feeling he knows all too well.
"I just wanted to see the grumpy-rude-scary captain, who is known as humanity's strongest soldier, to get married."
You say still smiling as your eyes tears up.
"Anyway... You didn't want me to come?"
You say blinking your eyes as Levi’s expression hardens. At the sight of the tears beginning to form in your eyes, his jaw tightens. He can practically feel his heart beginning to crack.
He can’t stand the sight, nor can't he stand the thought of you thinking he didn’t want you here. Which is true... He didn’t want you to be here. It hurts to see you.
"Of course I don’t want you here."
He says, his voice is cold, harsh. You chuckle sadly.
"Don't worry, I'll leave before you get married then. I was just hoping to see you in your wedding dress actually. I wanted to take a peek at you."
You try to sound funny like you always used to. You point at his tie.
"You're used to wearing cravats. You shouldn't be wearing a tie. Look, it's messed up."
Levi’s eyes flicker down to look at the messed up tie, the tie that his fiancé and her family had insisted he wear for the occasion. He hates it. He hates the way it feels around his neck, he hates the way it looks like it is being strangled around his throat, he hates to wear it. He lets out a quiet scoff.
"I’d much prefer to wear a damn cravat but apparently this is what she wanted."
You feel jealousy hitting you like a brick of a truck. You never once told Levi to change his appearance or anything just because you thought he'd look good in that way. You never wanted him to change. Now he's already changing himself for another girl... Who's not you?
"You should have told her to teach you how to wear it then. It's messed up."
You say in a jealous tone as Levi's chest aches in response. He knows this is difficult for you, he knows you are unhappy with his decision, but what can he do? The deal had already been done. There is no going back now.
Everything is for peace. For humanity.
"She did teach me, but it doesn’t matter."
He says, his voice comes out as a grumble as he undoes the tie, tossing it on the nearby desk instead.
"I hate these damn things. Stupid useless pieces of fabric."
You smile softly hearing his curses.
You'll miss it. You'll miss his grumpy behaviours, his rude-insulting words... His glare to the every male cadet who wanted to be close with you. His scent, kisses, touches, bites, thrusts, whispers, "I love you"s.... Calling you doll, Y/N, brat...
You'll miss him... Everything about him.
"I have one final request."
You clear your throat to prevent your voice from cracking and speak professionally.
"And that is?"
Levi looks at you, his expression is cold and stoic as usual but his eyes are filled with pain.
A part of him is selfishly happy to see you suffering, the other part of him wants to pull you into his arms and never let you go, to tell you that he wants you, he loves you. But that isn’t something he can't do now. He has to watch you walk away.
"I want to be your child's godmother. And I want your wife to be my patient when she gets pregnant. I want to be the doctor and the first person who'll pull your child out of your wife's ovary into this world."
You say calmly as Levi’s eyes widened. Not only do you want to be the godmother of his child with another woman who isn’t you, but also you do want to be the one to deliver his child.
A pained expression crosses his face as he realizes what you are asking for. He takes a step towards you, his eyes searching your face.
"You’re asking me... To let you witness me having a happy family... With another woman?"
You roll your eyes, desperately trying to stop your tears from falling.
"I just want to see your kids growing up and want to be the first person who'll see your kid's face. That's it."
Levi is silent for a few moments, his eyes never leaving your face. Despite how badly he wants to lash out, to be angry, he can’t. The way you are looking at him, the raw emotions behind your words... He can’t be angry at you. With a sigh, he takes another step closer to you and slowly reaches out and grabs your waist, pulling you closer.
"You’re masochistic. You know that?"
You pull yourself back from him, pushing his hand away.
"The last thing I want you to be a cheater, Levi."
You say with a soft tone as you look up to him. Levi’s eyes flicker over your face as you pull his hand away from you, his fingers slightly curled as he tries to reach out for you but manages to restrain himself. He wants to reach out for you, to take you back into his arms but he knows he isn’t allowed.
"Watching me raise a family, watch another woman have my children, you truly want to subject yourself to that kind of torture?"
He tries to keep his expression neutral, but the coldness of his eyes fades slightly. You shake your head.
"No... It definitely won't be painful for me to watch your kids growing up."
You smile softly looking up at the ceiling as you lean on the door completely.
"I just want to be a part of their life. That's it. Though it totally depends on you to accept my request."
Levi’s gaze softens slightly at your response, his eyes watching as you look up to the ceiling, he wants to reach out for you, to grab you and pull you into his arms, to lean his head down and press kisses along your neck and whisper soothing words in your ear.
But he can't....
He lets out a soft sigh, his expression darkens again as he spoke.
"Of course it depends on me to accept your request, you idiot. And you’re crazy if you think I’m going to say yes to you basically being the third wheel in my family."
You feel his words stabbing your bleeding heart making you hurt more. Bleed more. Third wheel? Your face twitches at his insults.
"Ok... As you wish."
You smile fakely as you open the door.
"Congratulations to your marriage, Levi Ackerman. I hope you'll have a happy life."
You say smiling softly as you take your last look at him again. Last look at him as "Your Levi" And everything starts to flash in front of your eyes.
Your first meeting, funny fights, him saving you from death, you treating his wounds, your first kiss, first confession, first time making love, the amazing time you two have spent with each other.
Tears start to fall on your cheeks as you close the door slowly. You sigh as you start to walk away with heavy breaths.
But if you would have looked back once again.... Maybe you could have seen the drop of tear falling from his dry eyes.
Just like you, he's not happy with his marriage. He never will.
But both of you are the previous members of the survey corps. You guys know very well what the pain of sacrifices is... You all have sacrificed a lot. And that's why neither Levi or you opposed to this marriage.
Because humanity means everything to you. If peace will be ensured by sacrificing love... You both will gladly accept that. No matter how much that's gonna hurt you both.
Everything is for peace.... For humanity...
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charcubed · 3 days
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I have thoughts on Benedict Bridgerton's future.
Spoilers for Bridgerton season 3 below.
Have I read the Bridgerton books? No. Have I seen the show? No. Can I mind my own business? Also no! And I’ve been on bisexual Benedict watch since day one because I am who I am as a person and my sister looped me into this because she knows how I am!
So with that in mind… fuck it. Here’s my half theory, half pitch for what I’d love to see them do with Benedict now that he’s gloriously explicitly bisexual (and THANK GOD FOR THAT) based on what I know of his story.
-I’m aware his love / endgame in the books is Sophie. Considering what they’re now doing with Francesca and Michaela (FUCKING LOOOOOVE THAT!! THANK GOD FOR THAT TOO!!!!!), I strongly doubt they’d gender-bend Sophie for Benedict.
-I’m also vaguely aware of Sophie’s story being like a Cinderella redux and her being an illegitimate child.
-With that (very) baseline knowledge in mind, + how the show has so far handled Benedict… I have a vision.
-Let Benedict and Sophie fall in love and be committed to one another.
-Let them also both be bisexual.
-And let them be polyamorous.
-HEAR ME OUT!
-There are 2 big reasons I say this:
-The first is that they’ve had Benedict describe his newfound bisexuality and queer joy as feeling “free” (love that so much), and crucially he also told Tilley he didn’t want to close the door on that feeling of freedom quite yet through any commitment to one person. So… I think it would be incredibly reductive if they still did that with him later, and there would be unavoidable optics that would allow shitty people to say “okay, Benedict had his fun and his whore era; now it’s time for him to get serious and suddenly fall madly in love with a woman he commits to forever.” When a character is bi, it’s very hard to pull that off successfully. Is that enough reason to not do it? Not quite. Would it make Benedict less bi? Of course not, because bi men who are in relationships with women are still bi. Nonetheless, the framing of it would be very precarious here mostly because Benedict’s bisexuality thus far is sort of tied to him having fun and feeling purposeless and waffling about in (if you will) the eyes of society. Getting him to settle down is a slippery slope to – in the eyes of idiots with no media literacy – getting him to no longer be bi. Additionally, they JUST pulled that “okay no more whore era, it’s time to get serious” shit with Colin too. Are they gonna more or less repeat that with Benedict? Why would they? It would be boring and basic as fuck, if you ask me.
-The second and even stronger reason I say let him be married and poly is that it would fit his personality far better than the “time to get serious” approach. The baseline is already in what he’s been doing and saying this whole time, and it’s not very subtle in my opinion. Benedict is an artist (who is currently almost repressing his artistry but that’s a tangential yet different topic). He commiserated with Eloise (who may also be queer) about wanting something more or a different life beyond society’s expectations. Rule breakers or people who stand out as boldly contrarian in a crowd win Benedict’s notice, and that was his whole thing (and queer subtext) even back in season one with Henry Granville, who essentially outright dared him to think on the courage it takes to live “outside the traditional expectations of society.” Benedict’s gotten a taste of that now that he knows he’s queer himself, but it should be taken further. And it’s further emphasized in how he speaks in season 3: another recent time he mentioned the concept of being “free,” it’s in reference to couples who are married and are given more leeway by society to then do as they like as a unit; Henry Granville and his wife were also an original example of that with their arrangement that allowed them to explore their queerness with other people. Add onto that how Benedict speaks of love in season 3 more than once conceptually – how it’s not finite, and how he has an abundance of it to give. He even briefly fantasizes about how he, Tilley, and Paul would explain themselves in public. That goes beyond the simplicity of a man who just wants to have fun or doesn’t want to be serious. Why should all of that disappear because… what, he suddenly meets a woman who rewrites his brain chemistry? Let him truly "be bold"! Let him commit to someone he loves more than anyone else, and then let him have the passion and room in his heart to enjoy an abundance of love and fun and freedom with others too!
-DO YOU SEE THE PICTURE I’M PAINTING?
-Toss onto that the rough idea that Sophie’s very existence and their relationship will be “rule-breaking” on principle already, right? She’s an illegitimate child, she may or may not have a role as maid a la Cinderella, she’s (from what little I understand) not a traditional or “fit” match and all that other bullshit. It lends itself to the idea that Sophie won’t think much of rules herself either and will possibly inspire further bold courage in Benedict. And if they’ll eventually already be breaking rules by being together, why not add on some more? Or, counterpoint: if this version of Benedict wouldn’t find much pause in the breaking of those basic sorts of rules, what other breaking of rules could maybe require courage or introduce conflict / angst / miscommunication in their relationship? Yeah, there’s gonna be the whole “I must find this person who bewitched me at a masquerade ball! Who can she be!” element in the plot I’m sure but… we’ve all seen that before. Let’s branch out a little bit here, people. Let’s dream bigger. Let’s spice it up with some down-the-line “I feel immense guilt because I’m in love with you but I still find other people hot and I crave a freedom I don’t know how to articulate, and it’s definitely not a temptation to cheat but it’s a feeling within me nonetheless, and it’s clearly not something my tunnel-vision wife-guy brothers experience” or whatever.
-Anyway. Here’s the last thought I’ve got (for now). Concept: don’t ask me how, but within the Cinderella-esque / hidden identities plots, let Sophie cross dress as a boy at some point. Let Benedict not know it’s her. Let Benedict still be attracted to her anyway. PULL A MULAN IN THIS BITCH.
-Okay. That’s it.
-Who knows? Maybe this show will give Benedict just his straightforward romance with Sophie and then they’ll explore polyamory for the 2 of them later as a side plot in another season. But eh, I don’t think it would do it justice. I do think they could pull it off in a season centric to him while keeping both romance and queerness front and center. I do think it’s possible!
-Remember… This is part pitch and part prophecy.
-I have a vision. I’ve foreseen it. Benedict and Sophie, bisexual polyamorous couple who are deeply in love and also like to invite a third into their bed together on occasion. (Or maybe they like to even have their own individual trysts that they then get to go home and tell each other about while having sex with each other.)
-I genuinely think it makes the most sense. They put all that shit in the show that I referenced above, not me. I may be insane, but this really isn’t a shitpost, alright? I argued my case.
-Thank you for your time.
-PS Yes, I am indeed aware that I'm under-qualified to have an opinion here. Don't tear me to shreds. This is how I have fun.
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scrubbinn · 2 days
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Slime HRT 4 Months: Sunset & Sunrise
Content warning: Dark tone, Family trauma
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 I'm writing this a bit sooner than I thought. I don't actually want to write this out, but everyone keeps telling me I'll feel better if I express my feelings. To be honest to myself, I really hope that's the case, I could really use a pick-me-up. 
So I ended up talking with my family. Telling them everything. Not like I could hide it anymore, now that my hair is made of goo. I guess I can write about that first. Might be nice for a bit to just think about myself. I woke up last Sunday to find my hair a lot heavier than normal, it was already pretty gooey, with strands of hair sticking together or just kinda always being wet. It also felt a lot more rough than before, I could find split ends everywhere, everyday. That night though, the change in my body sped into overdrive. I woke up to find some of my hair giving way and sticking to my pillow. It's really weird, like those sandy soaps made of a bunch of spheres. It made it feel like I was wearing a pile of clay on my head. It also suds up super fast. Just a bit of water and my hair turns into a perm of soap bubbles. It doesn't have a smell but it gave me an idea. Plucking some lavender I was growing outside, I stuck some in my hair, after a couple hours my house flooded with the scent of that purple plant. I definitely put too much in, way too overpowering. Still, it's super cool to be able to change my scent. so now I've been looking into soap making recipes, after all, might as well take advantage of it.
But with every upside, there's a bunch of downsides too. Nothing physical of course, well besides the fact there's no way I could pass off sandy sky-blue sludge as normal hair no matter how many hats I put on, and Sundays just happen to be the day that my family likes to get together for brunch. I still haven't told them, I just couldn't. They wouldn't get it. I knew they wouldn't get it. So I made the decision to call my mother, to let her know I was feeling sick and I couldn’t make it. That's all it was supposed to be, just that. But when that phone call was about to end, when she told me she loved me I…
Everything spilled out at that point. It felt like it wasn't even me talking, I just had to sit there trapped in this wrong, wrong, wrong body as words and emotions poured out of my mouth that I didn't have a faucet to turn off. I don’t really even remember what I said, but I know what I told her, what I was doing, the pain I was going through, and the plea for forgiveness. She didn’t speak, not for a while at least. Then I heard it. The three words I didn’t want to hear, before she even spoke I could feel myself mentally barricading myself away from the inevitable blast my psyche was about to receive. “Are you sure?” 
Are you sure?? ARE YOU SURE?! What did that even mean??? Am I sure of what I’m doing? Am I sure everything will go alright? Am I sure I want to smash every mirror that gets near me? No. I knew what she was asking. It was all of them. It was every question. Are you sure it’s safe? Are you sure you can handle the harassment? Are you sure you want to hurt me and the people around you because of this? Maybe that last one isn’t fair to her. I don’t know. It felt like she said it.
I remember that night, when I told my mother I was trans. I was still living with her at that time. She asked the same question, and I told her yes. We talked for a while after that as I explained more of it to her, but when I climbed up to my bedroom, and when I looked back, her face was in her hands, and she had started to cry. She later admitted to me that she was terrified of possible persecution and the hate I’d get by simply existing. But that image was still stuck in my head, I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. I don’t expect to ever forgive it, and I could tell as I sat in my bed, holding my medication close, she had her head in her hands, holding back tears as she told me she loved me. I just apologized, I don’t know what for. I just felt like I had to. I said that I loved her, she said it again, and I hung up.
I spent the next few hours dissociating in my bed. Simply trying to stop thinking about how badly that all went. Bottling up every emotion I could get my hands on while the others I couldn’t reach in time became tears. It also turns out that goo for hair is really hard to maintain when under a lot of stress. When I came to, most of my hair had fallen onto my bed sheets. Spent way too much time scrubbing it out the scent of lavender. I don’t think I can stand that scent anymore. At least my new hair regrew quickly during my tea break. I don’t really know if writing all this helped. Maybe I’ll just have to sleep on it.
After I cleaned myself up, I spent the rest of the day ignoring my mental health. I just sat on my computer staring at a bunch of games I didn't want to play, and a bunch of videos I didn't want to watch. I sorta just stared at my monitor until I realized I had gotten around ten notifications from friends asking if I was doing alright. My girlfriend had messaged me before the phone call with my mother, and after not receiving a message for six hours, she started to get worried. She practically forced me into a voice call and wanted to make sure I was doing alright, I lied and said I was, she didn't believe me and didn't pry further. We talked for a while until I brought up the phone call on my own. Then she told me she loved me, and said she'd be there for me always. She stayed with me the entire time, as I started crying again, and she let me cry, waited patiently, and then asked if I wanted to watch some silly videos. I really did. Sometimes it's really hard to remember there's still people that do care about you. I'm sure my mother cares in her own way, even if she's not aware how much it messed me up. I don't know how things will go in the future, if there's going to be even more pain. But I think I'll be ok, at the very least there are people who can pick me up when I can't keep running, people who will slow down and walk with me. I'll be ok, I'm gonna run to see what the future holds.
Update: So, I'm not really sure how to say this. Writing about yesterday really helped me out so maybe today will help as well. I was working my shift today, construction work, and my legs suddenly gave out under me while I was carrying a heavy frame. It was like my bones just bent, and I couldn't stand up right. I basically got flattened but there weren't any serious injuries Or anything. My bones weren't broken, no bad cuts, just what's definitely going to be a lot of bruising. I got forced to take some extended medical leave. Paid of course, but I guess this means the next few months are just going to be focused on my changes while I wait around in bed. Which is good, I could use a change of pace.
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Dang crazy how Roberto left part of his acciones to Betty! (not 100% sure but it’s pretty obvious)
Ngl if I were Marcela I’d be pissed but mostly betrayed especially since she viewed him as a second father. In her defense it would’ve been normal to expect she’d get some of Roberto’s share. He knew how much Marcela loved Ecomoda. Tho it’s too early to assume anything.
What I’m guessing is that Doña Margarita died before Roberto so who knows maybe she gave Marcela some of her shares and Marcela then felt entitled to Roberto’s as well? Or maybe Roberto did leave something for Marcela which he thought would’ve been more valuable than his acciones but Marcela didn’t viewed it as such?🤔 idk but I can already sense Marcela is going to blame Betty for not inheriting anything…
Okay prediction time!:
I think Marcela’s overall goal was to win the presidency for her son (or who ever that guy is, he’s definitely a Valencia).
I’m assuming Betty was president before she left for two years. Something happened which Marcela was able to ask for Betty’s head.
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While voting for the presidency she probably lost due to majority rule and Armando took over as president. She was fine with it cause she probably knew he wasn’t going to last long. With Betty out of the picture and with Roberto’s death she was certain her son will take the presidency because she assumed she will inherit some of Roberto’s acciones. She probably wouldn’t have won majority vote but she could’ve won cause her vote would’ve had more weight with Roberto’s acciones.
Obviously Betty got the acciones and became president again and which ruined Marcela’s plan…
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Obviously Marcela’s pissed and will now go above and beyond for her son to become president.
And that’s where another prediction come in!
What if she convinces her son to seduce Camila?👀 it’s history repeating itself! Camilla will go through what Betty did! A man seducing her for Ecomoda…
^but yea idk about this prediction tho💀 i can already guess that Hugo’s assistant (im assuming) will try to seduce Camila. But I don’t think it’s for Ecomoda but for another sick intention. That will be the difference between Marcela’s kid and Hugo’s assistant.
Also I wouldn’t be surprised if Marcela’s kid actually falls in love with Camila (again history repeating itself) and that’s how Marcela will get her redemption. Having to watch her son fall in love with a Mendoza just like her , watching them end up together just how she wished for herself. She will then understand that the hate she carried is a waste and will finally get along with Betty finally restoring the strong bond between the Mendoza & Valencia’s.
So yea that’s what I’m expecting as subplots for this sequel…
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RAGATHA IS THE CUTEST RAGATHA IS THE CUTEST RAGATHA IS THE CUTEST RAGATHA IS THE CUTEST RAGATHA IS THE CUTEST RAGATHA IS THE CUTEST
I LOVE HER SO FUCKING MUCH HOLY SHIT!
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quin-ns · 6 months
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Always Forever (Coriolanus Snow x Reader)
Word count: 8.2K
Summary: coriolanus finally lets himself acknowledge that he can’t stand to see you with anyone but him
Tags: (18+), cw: dubcon, cw: noncon, pseudo!incest (not related, reader raised with the snows), dark!coriolanus, pre-mentor era, jealousy/obsession/possessiveness, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex, fear of getting caught, lots of drama for my lovely readers
A/N: second coryo fic and it’s somehow longer than the last one lol. only one part. pls read the tags and proceed with caution 🫶
hunger games masterlist
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“Look at you, you look so pretty!” Tigris beamed, adjusting the straps of your dress. “Doesn’t she, Coryo?”
In his peripheral, Coriolanus could see his cousin had turned to look at him expectantly, but his eyes were already on you. They always had been, and always would be.
“Yes, she does,” he replied without thought.
You faced him with a smile, and Coriolanus couldn’t help the pride that swarmed him just looking at you.
It was because of him that you were in his life, and until the day he died Coriolanus knew it would remain the best decision he ever made.
As children during the war, when he and Tigris would scavenge the streets, Coriolanus stumbled across you. Not much younger than him, huddled behind a pillar, all alone. You had a half a loaf of bread. It wasn’t fresh, but he still didn’t understand where you got it. You tore it in half and shared it with him.
He returned to Tigris with you in tow, his small hand clutching your even smaller one, and his cousin took pity.
She also took the brunt of the consequence for bringing home another mouth to feed, but sacrifices had to be made, didn’t they?
It was worth it. You were worth it to him—to both of them, really.
As you got older, Grandma’am eventually took a liking to you, although Coriolanus wondered if it was because she could see how much he cared for you.
It didn’t matter. Not really. You were part of the family now, even if you did not share the Snow name.
“Thank you, Tigris,” you said sweetly, pulling the older girl into a hug.
It was a big day for both you and Coriolanus. The academy was hosting an event for students to mingle with administration and alumni of the university.
Coriolanus had put on his best outfit—he already knew it was the same one he was going to wear when the Plinth Prize winner was announced in only a few weeks. He was sure it was going to be him.
Tigris had fashioned your dress by hand. Coriolanus was past questioning how she paid for her fine fabrics, but he had an inclination it was the same way they could suddenly afford food some days.
The long dress reminded Coriolanus of freshly fallen snow, the white holding a sense of purity and wealth that his family once had. It had a sense of elegance that you only furthered with donning it, but it lacked an extravagance that would force you to stand out.
It was perfect.
You parted from Tigris to approach Coriolanus. You had a light smile on your face as your hands ran down his black vest, adjusting it.
“We almost match,” you commented, referring to the white shirt beneath said vest. “If only I had something black.”
“Well, I’d let you borrow this, but then we’d be in the same position, only switched,” he teased lightly, drawing a small chuckle from you.
Coriolanus liked when you looked up at him, same as he liked hearing your laugh.
“Don’t worry, I’ll survive without.” Your hands fell to your sides. “Besides, it definitely looks more handsome on you.”
Hearing those words from you meant more than you’d ever know, and more than he’d let himself acknowledge.
You were so good to him, he couldn’t imagine spending the evening with anyone else.
When he walked into the ballroom of the academy with you on his arm, Coriolanus got a rush of power. Especially when heads turned. Looking at him, looking at you, just looking.
He wondered what the minds behind all those gazing eyes were thinking.
He hoped it was a balanced amount of envy and respect.
“We should find Sejanus, let him know we’re here,” you said, not thinking much of the sentence as you looked around the room, taking in the people and the decor.
Coriolanus thought everything of it, a sourness settling over him. Sejanus was his friend, but Coriolanus wished they hadn’t gotten as close as they did. It was because of his friendship with Sejanus that you met him, and began to develop… feelings for him.
God, Coriolanus hated to even think about it.
When you told him you had begun dating Sejanus, Coriolanus nearly had a heart attack. Then he felt violent. Not towards you. Never towards you.
It wasn’t just because he felt protective of you, or because Sejanus was district, or because Coriolanus knew you were far, far too good for his friend… it was everything. All of that and everything in between.
Before you could find him, Sejanus found you.
He was in a fine black suit, finer than anything Coriolanus owned, and a bright smile appeared on his face at the sight of you.
That was one thing they still had in common. Reverence for you.
“Had to come find my girl before everyone thinks she ditched me,” Sejanus joked, pulling a laugh from you. “Where have you guys been?”
“Making sure we look our best,” you replied, shooting Coriolanus a wink.
If Sejanus wasn’t reaching for you, Coriolanus might’ve smiled.
“Well, you did a wonderful job.”
Coriolanus let you slip away from his side, reluctantly giving you away to Sejanus.
The unfortunate thing was Sejanus was truly a decent person. Not perfect, but decent. Better than most, even if he was beneath you all. You cared nothing for status, and seemed to really like him. He treated you right from what Coriolanus had seen, making disapproval not exactly warranted.
Although, Coriolanus was always going to be incredibly protective of you. He doubted there was a world where he would be pleased with any relationship you found. Your interest in other people was becoming tiresome, truthfully. Did you really even need friends? Or lovers? You had Coriolanus, and he was sure that was enough.
His jaw clenched when you pressed a light kiss to Sejanus’s cheek. It would be much simpler if he was a terrible person. Coriolanus would have an excuse outside of his own selfishness to separate you—which he did not have now.
“Can I ask for this dance?” Sejanus wondered, shooting you a smile. At least he had the awareness to still look anxious.
But you… you grinned. You were too good.
“Well you just asked, so I guess you can,” you started sarcastically, but let him off the hook quickly. “And of course I’ll say yes.”
Sejanus looked relieved, taking your hand in his. You turned to look at Coriolanus, a small bit of guilt in your expression. You clearly hadn’t been planning on leaving his side so soon. You masked it with the same teasing tone you’d used before.
“I won’t be long, don’t get too bored without me, Coryo.”
Coriolanus only smiled for your sake. It fell the moment Senjanus led you away to a small group of other students dancing together.
From the sidelines, Coriolanus watched as Sejanus led you in a slow dance. He tried to avoid his eyes landing on his friend. He didn’t want to view the two of you in the same light as the other couples embracing one another.
Coriolanus tried to remember the first moment he realized how beautiful you were. It was so long ago, it wasn’t something he was even aware he thought so often.
The sun rose in the morning, roses had thorns, and you were beautiful.
It was simple as that.
After a dance and a half, Coriolanus couldn’t take it anymore.
His feet carried him to the dance floor, mind absent as he tried to justify his jealousy as protectiveness. Yes, that’s all he was. Protective. Like an older brother… like what he was supposed to be. Even if it wasn’t what he wanted to be.
You and Sejanus were swaying and talking, but as he snuck up on the two of you, Coriolanus couldn’t make out the words. It didn’t matter.
You turned your head to look at him, smiling in surprise at his presence.
“Coryo!”
“Can I cut in?” Coriolanus requested. His hand itched to rest on your shoulder, but he withheld. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer, and he briefly wondered if Sejanus sensed that or not.
“All yours,” Sejanus agreed, spinning you by the hand. You turned in a circle, then a half, facing Coriolanus. “I’m going to go find my father, he’s here tonight,” he informed.
“I’ll come find the two of you in a few minutes,” you told Sejanus, who nodded then headed off. Before he did, he looked to Coriolanus and said, “Take good care of her.”
“I always do,” Coriolanus responded easily, because it was the truth. He didn’t need Sejanus telling him that. He’d been there for you long before either of you even knew his friend existed. He looked down to you, taking your hand in his while the other fell to your waist. You looked amused. “I do, don’t I?”
“Yes, Coryo,” you replied with a smile. “Better than anyone.”
The slow waltz felt so natural, your movements in tune with his without thought. You two were always like that, always in sync.
“What were you and Sejanus talking about?” Coriolanus wondered, curiosity getting the best of him.
“Nothing important,” you dismissed with a shrug. “Sweet nothings.”
Coriolanus didn’t miss the shy smile appearing on your face. He couldn’t control the frown trying to take over his.
A more thoughtful look crossed your face, your smile faltering.
“Are you happy for me, Coryo?”
Coriolanus blinked.
“I… want to be,” he confessed, eyes scanning your face. It was the truth for the most part. He did want you to be happy, just not with Sejanus.
You nodded slowly, taking in his words. Coriolanus wished he could open your head and investigate every corner of your brain. He wanted to know every thought you had.
“Sejanus is your friend, I would’ve thought…” you swallowed and looked away. “Never mind.”
“No, what is it?” Coriolanus pressed, tilting his head, trying to make you meet his gaze.
When you did, he saw the disappointment in your eyes.
You stepped back from him, parting completely.
“I need to find Sejanus. I’ll put in a good word for you about the Plinth Prize with his father.”
Then, you departed, not leaving room for Coriolanus to argue for you to stay.
He would’ve, and you knew that.
The moment you disappeared from his view, Coriolanus went looking. You had moved quickly. He found you across the room, sitting down at a table with Sejanus and Mr. Plinth.
He didn’t approach, he couldn’t make himself look bad in front of Mr. Plinth.
So he watched you talk, and drink, and laugh, and drink some more…
“I can’t believe she’s doing this,” Arachne whispered, suddenly appearing at his side. Coriolanus looked down at her. She was clearly talking about you. He could see the way she flicked her heavily decorated eyes in your direction. “Associating with him was one thing, but… well”—Arachne let out a vicious laugh—“do you think their children will call her “Ma” too?”
Coriolanus felt ill at the thought. Leave it to Arachne to provoke him, to conjure up nightmares he hadn’t even thought of yet himself.
“She’ll come to her senses,” Coriolanus muttered, gritting his teeth.
Arachne rolled her eyes. “Let’s hope so,” she mused, continuing on her way, blood red dress dragging behind her with each step.
Coriolanus looked back to you. He was overwhelmed with nausea as Sejanus grabbed your hand atop the table. Damn Arachne for placing that thought in his head.
He watched as you lifted another glass to your lips, smiling along as Sejanus talked to his father. What was that, your third? Sejanus had yet to say anything to you. He was fine with allowing you to get intoxicated?
Drinking alcohol wasn’t exactly a crime, but Sejanus didn’t know you well enough to know you were inexperienced. The last thing Coriolanus wanted was you making a fool of yourself.
Darker thoughts crept in. Maybe Sejanus was allowing you to inebriate yourself on purpose. The thought of him climbing on top to you made Coriolanus’s blood boil. His fingers twitched to form a fist, and his jaw clenched even tighter.
In that moment, Coriolanus decided he wouldn’t let Arachne’s mockery come true.
He had to help you. You needed his protection, even when you didn’t know it. You needed him. You always would. Coriolanus could remind you, then perhaps you'd see you didn’t even need Sejanus at all.
When you left the table—Coriolanus wasn’t sure why—he saw his opportunity. He approached you quickly, finding no problem in catching your arm and leading you away from the party. Away from all the people, where it could just be the two of you.
Out a door, down a long, empty corridor until the two of you ended up outside in the school’s garden. It was isolated from the party, you’d be safer here.
“Coryo? What—“
“Are you alright?” Coriolanus asked, cutting you off. He released you to stand across from you, leaving you to lean back against the stone wall behind you. “I saw how much you were drinking.”
You looked up at him, confused, but not frightened. If anyone else had handled you the way he did, you surely would’ve been. But you trusted him. You always had.
“Did I drink a lot?” you asked, a slight pout on your lips. “I didn’t notice.”
“Oh.” So, you were okay. That was good, wasn’t it? “I thought maybe you needed rescuing,” he admitted, unsure whether to feel embarrassed or not.
You chuckled a little and the sound washed over Coriolanus, bringing him a sense of relief from all his previous tension.
“My hero,” you said lightly, smiling up at him. You were always smiling at him, but Coriolanus no longer wondered if he was worthy of it all. “You’re always there for me, aren’t you?”
Coriolanus stepped closer. His hand rose, his fingertips trailing the outline of your face. Someone so pretty, so sweet, had to be careful in a cruel world like this.
“What would you do without me?” he proposed, not expecting an answer.
You didn’t need one, because you never would have to find out.
He’d follow you to the end of the Earth, just as he knew you’d follow him. You needed each other. You didn’t need Tigris or Grandma’am and especially not Sejanus, but without Coriolanus, who would you even be? Coriolanus couldn’t imagine his world without you in it. Not even if he tried.
Staring at you now, Coriolanus heard the voice in the back of his mind begin to whisper. The one that urged his protectiveness, knowing it was fueled by possession. The one he would use all his power to silence.
Something new had overcome him, watching you galavant around with Sejanus. Well, not new, but clear. Coriolanus finally had clarity. That’s what it was. That was how he finally acknowledged what had so long been lingering in his peripheral, just on the edge of his mind, waiting for the right moment.
Was this the right moment?
He made no effort to banish his most repressed thoughts. For once, he let them win.
Coriolanus leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. Gentle, testing the waters. You did not react right away. Maybe it wasn’t necessarily a good sign, but that didn’t stop him from using it as an excuse to deepen the kiss.
His other hand found your face, holding you against him as he nipped at your lip, begging you to invite him in.
Your reaction was delayed, and Coriolanus thought maybe, just maybe, you had been thinking the same thing he had all along. That the faint taste of alcohol on your lips meant you were feeling more open to exploring this with him, and that all you needed was a nudge in the right direction.
But no, you were turning your head, making his lips part from yours.
Coriolanus faltered, but you still did not speak. Your breaths were clipped—flustered and confused. He could understand that. His own heart was racing, although adrenaline and need were to blame for that.
“Coryo…” you whispered so softly he nearly didn’t hear it. “What are you doing?”
Leave it to you to not get angry with him. Or even upset. At this point he questioned if you were even capable of feeling anger at him.
Coriolanus stepped closer, making you have to tilt your head up to look at him.
“I don’t think I can share you,” he confessed under his breath, but with conviction. “I know I can’t and you… you don’t need anyone else. You have me.”
You swallowed, eyes looking down. “Sejanus—“
“Doesn’t know you like I do,” Coriolanus finished, one hand still holding your cheek, tilting your head, making you meet his eye again. “Seeing you with him… he’s not good enough for you.”
“I thought you were above judging him for being district.” You sounded so disappointed in him.
“I don’t care that he’s district, he’s not good enough because no one will ever be,” Coriolanus corrected, imploring you to understand.
With a light sigh, his eyes fell shut. Gently, he leaned to press his forehead to yours. He blindly reached for your hands, and found them in each of his with no problem.
“I would not be happy seeing you with anyone else,” Coriolanus confessed, voice low. “Not anyone but me.”
You inhaled slightly. Was it that big of a shock?
He gave you no chance to voice it because Coriolanus was capturing your lips again, passion erupting in his veins.
His mind was clouded with thoughts that fought for center attention, his built up desires controlling him as his hands and lips cascaded down your body. Your neck, your chest, your stomach—
“Coryo, what are you doing?” you questioned when he began to move lower.
“Shh, don’t worry,” he cooed, dismissing your concern.
Coriolanus finally fell to his knees in front of you. He’d never take such a humiliating position for anyone else. But with you, it didn’t feel humiliating. It was exhilarating, knowing he was on his knees worshiping you, but he still held all the power. It was nearly perfect.
You gasped a little when he gripped your right leg and maneuvered it over his shoulder. More of your weight rested back against the wall, unable to stand straight on just one leg.
He looked upward, watching your face the entire time as he pushed your dress up around your hips, revealing your underwear to him.
Coriolanus was so close and you had yet to move.
Words couldn’t find their way to his lips. It was all too overwhelming in the best way. His heart slamming against his rib cage was a welcome feeling, and so was the pressure on his knees.
You bucked away before his mouth could reach your core. Coriolanus didn’t think much of it. He had a lot of other images rushing through his brain. Ones he wanted to become reality.
He scooted forward and tried again, this time making contact with the layer of fabric separating him from your most intimate spot.
Coriolanus heard a choked noise from you as he ran his tongue across the front of your underwear.
Right away, he wanted more.
His hands found the material acting as a barrier and he gripped it then pulled, tearing it from you one leg at a time, exposing you to him.
Before it could fall to the ground, he caught the shredded material and stuffed it into his pocket.
He felt a bit guilty, knowing how little you all had when it came to clothing, but he wanted to do this the right way. Coriolanus wanted nothing blocking him from showing you how good he could make you feel.
As much as his eyes were tempted to linger, impatience got the best of him.
He made contact again, licking a stripe across your bare cunt. Once he got a taste, Coriolanus couldn’t hold back.
His mouth latched onto you, tongue sliding between your folds, drawing a stifled moan from you. You reached for his head, trying to knock him away, but Coriolanus persisted. His will easily overtook yours. You weren’t going to take this away from him, not when he could make you want it just as bad.
He held onto the leg over his shoulder, gripping your flesh, surely leaving bruises in his wake. He held the skirt of your dress up with the other hand. With his mouth, he devoured you. Lapping at your core like a man starved, even more so when wetness began to form.
This wasn’t something Coriolanus had done, but he knew you better than anyone. He was sure he could figure out your body. He’d dreamt about it long enough, making you fall apart for him in such an intimate way.
He soon found that to be the truth when in only a matter of minutes your body was tensing. He continued to drag his tongue across you, giving every bit of you his full attention. He liked the way your thighs quivered when his tongue brushed your clit, it gave him an excuse to hold you tighter.
Your whole body flinched suddenly, but he shoved your hips back, pinning you to the wall as he brought you to the edge
His own pants felt constricted as his senses were overwhelmed by you. Your taste, your scent, the sound of your choked down moans, your hands smacking the wall (unsure what else to do), the feel of you against his tongue and how your leg strained over his shoulder, and the sight of you when he looked up through his lashes… god, you were magnificent.
You whimpered from above, teeth digging into your bottom lip, as he finally made you come undone.
Coriolanus held you still, relishing in the way you finally jolted into his touch instead of away.
He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You were the stuff of dreams in the most literal sense.
Your head tilted back against the wall, your ragged breaths causing your chest to rise and fall in an unsteady pattern. Your leg, still draped over his shoulder, was tense, even as he pressed a gentle kiss to your inner thigh.
A wide grin spread across Coriolanus’s face when you shivered. He couldn’t help himself. He nearly chuckled at your state, but then your hand moved to rake through his wavy locks. The sound caught in his throat as you tugged him away, finally looking down at him. The all consuming pleasure had faded into something more composed.
Coriolanus could tell how much of an effort you were making, and as your eyes struggled to focus, he briefly wondered how strong your drinks were.
“I’d like to go home now,” you said slowly, conscious not to let your voice falter.
You allowed him to help get both to your feet on the ground, but you did not touch him for the rest of the night, even when he tried to reach for you.
He was still hard behind the confines of his pants, imagining the slickness between your thighs that was the result of his actions. As you walked back through the ballroom, it took everything he had to not push you back against a nearby wall. People be damned, he wanted you more than anything.
He would press his chest to your back—no, he’d make you face him. Coriolanus wanted access to your lips so he could kiss you as much as he liked, even swallow down your moans when he lifted your dress around your stomach and—
A shiver of excitement coursed through Coriolanus’s body. What would your darling Sejanus think if he knew what just transpired? If he knew it was only for your dignity that Coriolanus wasn’t fucking you against the wall hard enough that you forgot where you even were?
You silently bid the party a farewell, forgetting to say goodbye to Sejanus (Coriolanus made no attempts to remind you). You continued to ignore him, hardly speaking and not even looking his way. Not as you walked from the school to the apartment. Stumbling up the stairs, you only spoke to claim you were fine as you gripped the handrail for dear life. Then you went back to silence as you traveled from the front door to your bedroom and locked the door.
Coriolanus only found out about the door because he’d tried to follow you in, but the door knob did not budge. You never used your lock.
Even if you weren’t ready to finish what had been started, it was still incredibly cold. Were you really upset enough to deprive him of your presence until the morning?
“What’s going on with you?” Coriolanus asked through the layer of wood. The taste of you still lingered on his tongue as it traced his bottom lip, waiting for your response. “Can we talk? Can you open the door?”
He gripped the knob tighter and tried again. It wasn’t going to suddenly unlock, but something urged him to prove it.
There was a faint thud as his forehead fell to the door, much as it had to yours not too long ago.
“Can I at least say goodnight to you?”
Again, no response.
He swallowed. Cleared his throat.
Again.
“Please?”
If they could afford to fix it, Coriolanus would break the door down.
He wasn’t sure how long he stood outside your door before begrudgingly going to his own room.
He laid in his bed and fished the underwear from his pocket. Your scent still lingered on them, and it was enough to fuel his imagination as he unbuttoned his pants and pretended his own hand on his cock was yours.
Even after finishing, Coriolanus had a nearly sleepless night. His mind was plagued with memories of his lips on yours, your dress bunched around your hips, him on his knees with his mouth on your cunt. He’d never forget the sounds you made.
When the sun rose, he returned to your door, only to find it still locked. He didn’t even knock, just simply grabbed the door knob and twisted.
You always woke up early for school, putting yourself together in a way that could reflect wealth that you did not truly have. Coriolanus was sure you did it for his sake, knowing how much appearances mattered to him.
You were good to him like that.
If only you’d let him in now.
The laugh that escaped him lacked humor. It was a bitter, frustrated sound.
His hands rested on his hips, his own fingertips pressing in. It was that or gripping the door knob and if he touched that thing again and found it locked…
“This isn’t funny anymore, Y/N,” Coriolanus called through the door. “If there’s a problem we can talk about it. Just stop acting like a child.”
“What, did she steal your blazer again?” Tigris wondered, appearing out of nowhere. Despite her voice being soft with sleep, Coriolanus was still startled.
“No, just a minor disagreement,” Coriolanus replied, quick on his feet as always. “Nothing to worry about, I’m sure we’ll talk it out.”
He emphasized the word ‘talk’, hoping you’d hear him through the door. If you did, he wouldn’t know. Tigris, on the other hand, just nodded and headed for the kitchen.
The smile he gave his cousin on her way was forced. She couldn’t tell that his teeth were clenched together, which was for the best.
A thought dawned on him. You could just be testing him.
Coriolanus knocked on the door and waited, like he’d just solved your puzzle.
What was that thing about insanity—trying the same thing over and over and expecting a different result?
“You’re going to have to come out of your room at some point,” he reminded, trying his best to make it not sound like a warning.
Coriolanus wasn’t used to being frustrated with you. You were usually his relief from people who made him feel this way. He didn’t understand why everything changed all of the sudden.
You’d enjoyed yourself while he got what he wanted. Why was that so bad?
You had always been an enigma, but Coriolanus felt as if he’d come to understand you—that he was the only one who did or would.
Sejanus would never know you the way he did, that was for certain.
From in your room, Coriolanus heard movement. Your dresser opening, maybe. It didn’t matter. You were awake. And ignoring him.
“Y/N? I know you’re awake.” The neediness in his voice was embarrassing. No one else could make him resort to this. “I can hear you. Are you coming out?”
“What is going on?” Grandma’am questioned, standing at the end of the hall. “You aren’t dressed for school. We can’t have you being late.”
Coriolanus looked down at himself. He’d gone to sleep in the outfit he’d worn the night before, and still wore it now.
Arguments died in his throat. You and Coriolanus walked to the academy together. You’d have to come out and talk to him. Grandma’am would drive you crazy if you missed a day of classes.
In record time, Coriolanus was in his uniform.
He might’ve been quick, but apparently you were quicker. As he opened the door to his room, he heard the front door shut.
“Whatever you did, Coryo, apologize,” Tigris advised when he chased the sound of your exit.
Coriolanus just looked at her. Why on Earth would he do that? He’d done nothing wrong.
Down the stairs and out of the building, Coriolanus finally—finally—got a glimpse of you. A flash of red as you turned the corner, setting off down the sidewalk.
It took nothing for him to catch up to you.
“How are you feeling?” he wondered first, recalling your drunken state. “I was worried about you.”
“Were you?” you challenged, eyes forward.
It was good to hear your voice, but Coriolanus furrowed his brows at your tone. You had no reason to be this rude.
“Of course I was, Y/N. How can you even ask me that?” His hand dropped to your shoulder, only for you to shrug it away. “What is wrong with you?”
You looked at him, finally, but the emotion in your gaze… there was something wrong with it. Something distant, lacking the affection those beautiful eyes of yours usually held for him.
Coriolanus swallowed.
“Are you really going to be like this? Is it because of Sejanus? You don’t have to be with him anymore.”
You turned your head forward.
“Leave me alone, I’d like to walk in silence.”
Since when had you become so spiteful? Coriolanus didn’t like it. It evoked something similar in him. He leaned down, getting near your ear.
“You liked it, I know you did,” he hissed out. Coriolanus hadn’t meant for it to come out so harsh, but you were being completely unfair to him right now. “You can’t lie to me.”
Despite the way you shuddered, your jaw remained clenched. You not talking to him was more infuriating than if you had screamed in his face. At least that way he could tell what you were thinking. But no, you wouldn’t allow him to be privy to your inner thoughts, no matter how much effort he put into prying them from you.
It wasn’t a conversation for the public, even Coriolanus knew that, so when you got to the academy a few steps ahead of him, he bit his tongue.
“What did you do to piss off your sister?” Clemensia asked him in a whisper in class. “You’re usually attached at the hip walking in.”
The way she called you his sister felt wrong in a way that it hadn’t before. Even if he never thought it fit when people would say that or assume it, something had shifted.
And was it that obvious? Coriolanus hadn’t even brought it up. He’d simply been a few steps behind you into the classroom. You’d gone to your desk without a word. Was that strange to everyone else too? It was validating, in a way, to know your behavior was, in fact, targeted and odd, but it also made him wonder what the two of you appeared to be from an outside perspective.
“It’s nothing,” Coriolanus lied to her under his breath, keeping his eyes on his paper.
“So you didn’t get into a fight?”
Coriolanus’s brows curved down. He glanced her way.
“A fight?”
“Arachne and Festus saw you pull her away from Sejanus and disappear somewhere last night.”
It was mostly the truth, but she said it so nonchalantly. She couldn’t know what happened after you disappeared. Coriolanus hadn’t seen a single person lay their eyes on either of you in that private moment.
“I get it,” she continued. “I wouldn’t want to be associated with someone from the districts either. She’s not thinking about how she’ll be perceived, or you. Don’t let her drag you down.”
Coriolanus just listened, the night flashing through his mind. No one could’ve known, there was no way.
He quickly corrected the hypocrisy in his own mind. He hadn’t done anything wrong, it was just private. No one else deserved to see you in that state—no one but him.
“We’re fine,” Coriolanus told her. “And her and Sejanus aren’t together anymore.”
Clemensia smirked to herself. “Good.”
Word spread quickly, and with the way you avoided Sejanus—a byproduct of you avoiding Coriolanus—everyone believed it. The final nail was the way you failed to appear at lunch. It got under Sejanus’s skin, causing him to question the state of your relationship without you to answer any said questions.
Truthfully, Coriolanus hadn’t seen anything as amusing in a long while, but your absence weighed on him, too.
The walk home alone was dreadful without you. Even in the morning when you had ignored him, it was better than you being completely gone.
When he got home, your door was shut. How quickly had you left your classes, how fast had you walked, all to avoid him?
This was growing old very, very quickly.
Grandma’am was on the roof with her roses, and Tigris seemed to be missing from the apartment. It was only because of that that Coriolanus devised a way to get into your room.
Why he didn’t think of picking the lock before, Coriolanus supposed it was because he thought you’d give in quicker and let him get the better of you. You were usually weak to him, allowing him to get his way without a problem. You had before.
“Last chance,” Coriolanus called through the locked door. He almost thought that would be enough. He wanted you to open it of your own will. “You can’t avoid me forever, just let me in.”
No such luck.
You looked surprised when he forced the door open, as if you really believed he would just take the loss. You were supposed to know him better than that.
You’d been sitting on your bed in pajamas, evidently already done with the day. Your legs were criss-crossed with a textbook in your lap. You looked up at him, a questioning expression taking over your features.
“What are you doing, Coryo?” you asked, voice low, eyes not quite meeting his directly.
“You weren’t opening the door.” Coriolanus squared his shoulders. “I wanted to talk to you.”
You shook your head, something between a sigh and a laugh escaping you in a puff of air. Coriolanus did not like the accusatory undertone.
“Did you think maybe I left it locked on purpose?” Were you mocking him? “That I wasn’t lying this morning and I really don’t want to speak to you?”
“That’s ridiculous,” Coriolanus insisted, closing your door behind him. He moved towards your bed, watching your body language the entire time as he finally sat on the edge beside you. “You thought I would just let you ignore me?”
You swallowed, closing the book in your lap. “I guess not,” you admitted, setting the textbook aside. “I am well aware of your ego.”
A frown crested Coriolanus’s lip. “Is that what this is—you want to hurt me?”
You tilted your head, catching his gaze, much like he’d made you do the night before. It was the first time in nearly a day since you’d looked him dead in the eye.
“What do you want, Coryo?”
“I want you”
“You want me to what? Not be with Sejanus? Is that it? Is that why you did what you did?”
“You say that like it was something awful. I was there too.” Coriolanus felt a familiar heat rush through him at the memory. “I know what I saw.”
“You humiliated me.”
“In front of who? No one saw us.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is? Because you know Sejanus is weak?” Coriolanus searched your eyes and leaned in closer. He was feeling antagonistic. “I mean, how could he touch you, knowing I got there first?”
Coriolanus caught your hand as you raised it, presumably to strike him.
“Is that what we’ve resorted to?”
He squeezed your wrist, enough to cause pain. You winced and tried to move away, but Coriolanus wasn’t going to let you get away.
“I could ask you the same,” you sneered, sounding like an entirely different person.
“What has happened to you?” Coriolanus questioned. He took a breath. “Do you want me to be sorry for what I’ve said? Fine, then, I apologize. But I’m not sorry for what I’ve done. You should not be with him.”
“I’m supposed to believe someone driven by jealousy?” you inquired back, blinking back tears. Why were you being so dramatic? “How can I trust anything you have to say to me now?”
Coriolanus was taken aback by the question. Did you really not trust him anymore? Even with the tight hold on your wrist, he could feel you slipping from his grasp. If you were to leave him, he’d never forgive the universe for its twisted irony. Coriolanus put so much time and care into you because he wanted you. His family didn’t, at least not at first, but even so, you’d have nothing if it wasn’t for him. Is that what you wanted to leave him with now? Nothing? Nothing but the memory of when you were his?
No, that wouldn’t do.
It just wouldn’t.
“You can trust me, I promise,” Coriolanus insisted, pleading, even. “I love you, I always have—you can’t have expected me to sit back and do nothing while you…”
You looked more betrayed, if that was even possible. He was trying to make it better but explaining was only making it worse. Coriolanus had never met a person where the more he talked, the more he tried to persuade them, they believed him less. In that way again you were an anomaly.
If Coriolanus couldn’t tell you, he could show you. He had to make you understand—he could salvage this and get what he wanted in the end. If he was anything, it was persistent. It had worked before, excluding the aftermath.
Coriolanus moved, keeping his hold on your wrist as he shoved you down, pulling himself up and then on top of you in a fluid motion.
You squirmed, questioning, “What are you doing?”
Coriolanus caught your other hand and brought it to join your other wrist he already had a hold of in one hand. He straddled your waist, keeping your body pinned.
“You won’t listen to me,” he pointed out. Something inside him urged him to lean down. “But I can still prove it to you, that it’s me you should be with. No one else.”
Then he crashed his lips onto yours. It was more forceful than it had been the previous night, ensuring you couldn’t turn away again. His tongue was already in your mouth before you thought to turn your head.
It didn’t matter if you didn’t kiss him back, Coriolanus was in bliss. Your lips were soft, molding perfectly to his. You moaned into his mouth, or maybe it was a protest, but it made his body heat up all the same. Coriolanus couldn’t get enough of you. Last night left him wanting more, not less.
More than that, he was determined. When he finally detached his lips from yours, the both of you panting, Coriolanus set forth on a track that wouldn’t allow him to turn around.
Even if he tried to take it back, everything would already be changed.
So he didn’t even bother hesitating. Coriolanus was determined, even, at yanking your clothes from your body.
Your words were jumbled by the time they reached his ears. His own heart racing with excitement drowned out any requests you had for him.
The word “stop” left his vocabulary until you yelled it too loud for his liking.
Your whole body shook when he clapped his hand over your mouth. Your top was completely gone, your chest heaving as you breathed through your nose. While Coriolanus could’ve easily been distracted by your state, he trained his eyes on your wide ones.
The word helpless crossed his mind, and he had to take a moment to control himself.
“Grandma’am is upstairs,” Coriolanus finally warned, voice low. “Don’t disturb her.”
You blinked. Coriolanus was almost surprised by the way you settled down, but it told him you understood the implications of alerting her.
Your position beneath Coriolanus had to be better than starving and cold on the street, didn’t it?
You didn’t have Sejanus anymore. If you thought you did, Coriolanus would make sure to remedy that with his friend before you got to him first.
As Coriolanus lifted his hand from your mouth, he silently implored he was the only one who could save you from being branded a liar.
Just as Coriolanus had always admired, you were a quick learner. As heartbroken as you looked, you didn’t raise your voice again.
“This isn’t how you make me want to be with you,” you pleaded. Coriolanus wasn’t sure whether to laugh or take it as a challenge.
“We’ll see,” he mused in response.
He got you bare, and then himself.
You averted your eyes from his body, which offended him more than he thought it would.
“You can look,” Coriolanus said, voice heavy.
Something about his voice must’ve gotten to you, because your eyes flicked between his legs. You swallowed and looked back away.
A prideful smirk overtook Coriolanus’s face.
He moved then, still keeping hold on your wrists in one hand, dragging them down over your belly, and placed himself between your legs.
With one hand still holding your wrists, Coriolanus shoved his other hand in between your legs, two prodding fingers finding your entrance before making their way in. Eagerness won out over his patience. He could take things slow later.
You tensed around him, fighting the intrusion, but he wasn’t going to let you win. Even if you weren’t squirming against him, you were resistant. Coriolanus slowly worked at breaking your resolve, massaging his fingers inside your walls, thumb on your clit.
He could see shame wash over your features when a wetness began to form, coating his fingers and allowing him to work you open for him.
“See, you can lie to me, but your body can’t,” Coriolanus asserted, voice thick with arousal.
That triggered something in you, and perhaps Coriolanus reacted too harshly.
It felt like it all happened in a flash. One moment you were on your back, beneath him, clenching around his fingers, and the next he had to manhandle you onto your chest and knees to fend off your attack and keep you still. He regained his hold on your hands quickly, pinning them behind your back while you panted from the short lived exertion.
Coriolanus leaned down to press his lips to your ear.
“I thought we agreed you weren’t going to fight me,” he growled.
Your shoulders shifted as you found further discomfort in your new position, but you didn’t speak. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of your voice—just like before.
Coriolanus wanted to watch your face as you submitted to him and his love for you, but if this was the only way he could have you for now, so be it.
He lined himself up with your entrance, enjoying the twitch of your body as he pressed the tip in.
Despite all the effort to get you where you were now, Coriolanus slid his cock into you with ease. Your body welcomed him, even if you didn’t.
He couldn’t help himself, his hips bucked forward, shoving himself into you deep. You whimpered into the pillow and Coriolanus’s mind went blank for a moment, basking in the feel of your warm cunt around him. It was better than he imagined.
His cock twitched inside of you, eager to fill you, but he had to make this last. Just like before, Coriolanus wanted to make you feel good. So good you had no choice but to want him.
Coriolanus drew his hips back after a few moments of just resting inside you. When only the tip remained, he thrust forward. Your body rocked against the mattress.
He did it again, this time slower. Forcing you to feel the drag of his thick cock inside of you. Coriolanus liked the way your body quivered as you succumbed to the pleasure he could give you.
You felt like heaven, all wet and warm and squeezing around him in a way that made him want to never leave you.
To show he trusted you, Coriolanus let your hands go. They immediately fell to grip the pillow beneath your head. You didn’t go to fight him and that counted for something. He had an ulterior motive, though, because now he could hold your hips with both hands.
He leaned down, pressing kisses to your back. He ran his hands along your skin, drinking the entirety of you in as he moved inside of you.
His movements were a bit slow, calculated, making you feel every inch of him stretching you out. Coriolanus imagined you rocking your hips back, your moans filling the room, eager for more. That would have to be saved for another time when you were more willing.
You body tensed and shivered, and Coriolanus knew you were getting close. You still had yet to speak.
It was petty, the sudden sharp thrust of his hips to shove his cock deep and hard into you.
A gasp—he drew a gasp from you.
He allowed his weight to fully fall on top of you, finally. Your skin was so warm on his chest, it was as if your body was trying to burn him off of you. Maybe it was all in his head. But it didn’t really matter. It was far too late for that.
“It’s okay to want it,” Coriolanus muttered into your ear.
He felt your body reacting and you were moments away from what he’d been pushing you towards. His thrusts grew shallow, not letting too much of himself leave you as you finally came undone.
You buried your face into the pillow, muffling your cry as you finally came around his cock. It was then that he got what he wanted, even if it was only brief. Your body spasmed and pushed back, trying to feel every inch of him stretching you out, clenching down to hold him there.
Coriolanus followed you soon after, cock throbbing in your walls, spilling inside of you and painting them white. He held your hips so tight he was sure he’d leave bruises as he held himself still, letting the both of you experience the sensation in full.
After however long—Coriolanus didn’t count the minutes—he withdrew from your body. He was a gentleman, so he helped you to lay down before your body collapsed on its own.
He laid down beside you, pulling your blanket over the top of both of your bodies with the intention to bring you comfort.
You were wordless, rolling onto your side, facing away from him.
Coriolanus turned with you, wrapping his arms around your midsection and pulling you back to him. He pressed a kiss to the back of your head before resting his lips near your ear.
“Do you really think not talking to me is the best idea?” he whispered, less frustrated than before.
You shook in his arms, but your voice was steady as you asked, “What do you expect me to say to you?”
Coriolanus didn’t have to think all that long.
“That you love me.”
You were silent for a moment, Coriolanus thought he was going to have to repeat himself.
“I did love you,” you uttered, voice threatening to break. “But it wasn’t enough for you.”
Coriolanus could’ve been angry, but he knew he’d win you back. He had all the time in the world, knowing you wouldn’t dare continue your relationship with Sejanus. How could you? You were already spoken for.
You were Coriolanus’s, you always had been. He realized it before you, but he knew you’d come to learn the truth. You’d accept it eventually, and everything would fall into place exactly as he wanted.
6K notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 6 months
Text
A Christmas Special
summary: after Christmas Eve at Remus' flat, thick snowfall prevents you from going home. He's more than happy to host you
cw: mentions of alcohol, smut mdni, p in v, oral (fem receiving), praise, inexperienced reader, shy little idiots in love
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 11k words
Remus isn’t sure entirely how he’d gotten strongarmed into hosting Christmas Eve at his flat. James and Lily usually host, but James claimed that this year their house was in too much a state of “baby mayhem” to have any hope of being tidied enough for a gathering. He’s said it in such a lovesick voice Remus couldn’t push back for long, his friend’s happiness so potent it was like looking into the sun. Sirius had begged off quickly, saying that his “bachelor pad” was too small to have a group over. As usual, when Remus spoke last, the matter was settled before he’d gotten the chance to have much of a say. 
He’s made an effort to live up to the hosting legacy passed onto him by the Potters, but it’s a flimsy attempt at best. Thankfully, the snowfall outside is doing a fair amount of the work for him. Remus’ street is coated in fresh, gleaming powder, enough that the trees look weighted down with it and his neighbor had put her little dog in a knit sweater to go into the yard and do its business. It’s still coming down, the snowflakes visible in crisp contrast against the darkening sky as they drift lazily to the earth. 
Inside Remus’ home, the Christmas tree is nearly covered in tinsel to make up for his scant supply of ornaments, he’s run out of stockings to put up above the fireplace and has had to use one large sock (that one will have to be for Sirius), and he’s still stringing up popcorn when a knock sounds on the door. 
Remus is surprised (he’d told everyone to come at six, but that was only because he didn’t think anyone would actually show up until a couple hours after), but that dies away when he unbolts the door and opens it to find you on the other side. 
“Hi,” you say, teeth nearly chattering as Remus ushers you inside. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was worse than I expected.” 
“It’s hardly fifteen after six.” Remus takes your coat, tsking. “People do seem to become worse drivers around the holidays, don’t they?” 
“Well, I suppose not everyone on the road tonight might be used to driving in the snow,” you allow, ever forgiving. 
Remus smiles. “Merry Christmas, love.” 
Your face is already flushed from the chill outside, but he could swear it goes pinker as you unwrap your scarf, smiling back at him. “Merry Christmas.” You’re merry as can be, cheeks dimpling and eyes sparkling under the twinkling lights Remus is suddenly very glad he decided to purchase for the occasion. “Where is everyone?” 
“Well,” Remus says, heading back for the couch, “Sirius is hitching a ride with James and Lily, so if I had to guess I’d wager that James is just putting the finishing touches whatever food he’s decided to bring while Lily tries to rush him out the door. And then they’ll go to Sirius’ place and have to wait for him to finish wrapping the presents he undoubtedly just remembered today.” 
You sit beside him with a half-exasperated laugh. “I was thinking I’d be the last one here,” you admit, “but I’d forgotten how they can be when it comes to events.” 
Remus shrugs. “Easy to forget.” Lily is usually able to marshal James and Sirius most places on time these days, but the frenzy when they actually have things to prepare is inevitable; Remus has learnt to account for it. He reclaims his half-finished string of popcorn, clumsily stabbing the needle into another kernel and wincing when it goes through easier than expected, pricking his finger. 
“Oh no, did you hurt yourself?” you lean over, trying to see his hand. 
“No, just a scratch.” Remus has about a billion of them by now. He’s far from coordinated on a good day, but the unwise decision to have coffee earlier has resulted in shaky hands that make working with a needle somewhat hazardous. 
You watch him try again, and it’s really the distraction of your cute frown more than anything else that messes him up. His needle goes through the fluffy edge of the popcorn, stabbing him and giving the string hardly anything to hold onto in the process. The flake falls to his lap for his efforts. 
“Remus, your hand’s not a pincushion,” you say, and you weren’t yourself he’d almost think you were chiding him. You reach over, taking the needle and thread from him. “Here, let me do that.” 
“I didn’t mean for you to come here early so I could put you to work,” Remus protests, watching as you string up the next piece of popcorn with nimble fingers. Jealousy wars with admiration, but his esteem for you wins out. “You’ll never come back for New Year’s if this is what you have to look forward to.” 
You smile down at your hands. “Sure I will. You’ll still be there, won’t you? And I really don’t mind helping, it gives me something to do.” 
Remus smiles back even though you’re not looking. “Alright, well I guess that means I can start rolling out the gingerbread dough. Thanks, love.” He touches his hand lightly to the crown of your head as he stands, letting the urge to press a kiss there pass as quickly as it arises. He goes into the kitchen and a second later you decide to follow. Popcorn swishes against the floor behind you as you make your way over to the bar counter, sitting on a stool with the string trailing all the way back to the couch. 
“You’re making gingerbread cookies?” you ask, watching with eager eyes as he plops the dough onto the floured counter, rolling it flat. 
“Mhm. You like them?” 
“Never had one.” 
Remus feels his eyebrows inch upwards. “Seriously?” 
You look almost sheepish, as though this is a crime which you expect to be held against you. Honestly, you’re not far off; had James been here, you would have been questioned and scolded to hell and back, and then he would’ve made Remus give you some dough to try, salmonella be damned. 
“No,” you answer him. “We made ornaments of them in school, once, but we weren’t allowed to eat them. I always thought they were so cute, though, with the little people cutouts.” 
“They’re the best,” Remus agrees, pressing out the shapes and laying them on the baking sheet. “If you finish that quickly enough, I might even let you help me cut out a few.” 
“Yes!” you cheer, and he laughs as you start working quicker with the needle. 
“Don’t hurt yourself. The privilege of cookie cutting is not actually contingent on your labor.” 
“I know,” you say, but your hands don’t slow. Remus has barely finished filling his second baking sheet before you’re done, having made more progress in the last twenty minutes than he had over nearly an hour. 
Remus’ hip touches yours as he shows you how to give the cookie cutters a little shake in the dough, freeing the shape before lifting it and placing it on the sheet. It’s not a painfully difficult task, and still he’s impressed by how quickly you catch on. You’re a machine of efficiency. You seem to enjoy rolling out the dough almost as much as pressing out the shapes, falling into a quick, happy rhythm. Before long you’ve pushed Remus out of the way (Lily would be proud, he thinks), urging him to go and hang up the popcorn garland before everyone else arrives. 
You haven’t seen each other in over a month, both of you caught up in the hustle and bustle of the season, and you catch up as you work on your separate tasks. Remus talks to you about his job, the students who plague him and the ones he wishes he could take home after work each day, and how none of them had liked the film he’d put on the day before break. (“Mister Magoo’s is a classic!” you protest as Remus shakes his head. “They’re too young to get it,” he says. “Our classics are just old to them.”) You tell him about your new cat, and the sweater you’d crocheted her for the holiday which she despises above all else, and he promises to come over sometime soon to meet her. 
You’ve poured yourselves spiked eggnog and sampled a few ginger cookies (“They’re twice as good when they’re fresh,” Remus says. “Don’t let the others’ tardiness rob you of the experience.”) by the time the door bursts open again, Sirius of course not bothering to knock. 
“Hello!” he calls from somewhere behind a tower of presents. “Merry holiday to you, Moony!” 
You get up to help, and so Remus is compelled to do so as well, taking a couple sloppily-wrapped boxes from Sirius’ arms. 
“Merlin, it smells good in here,” James declares as he comes through the door, Lily carrying a beaming baby Harry on her hip behind him. James’ eyes fall on you. “Aw, you beat us here?”
Remus scoffs, setting down the gifts by the tree and leaving you to arrange them as you see fit. “Not a very difficult task, when you’re over an hour late,” he says. “You’re lucky Y/N’s good company, or I’d be more cross with you.” 
“Sorry,” Lily says as Sirius makes a dismissive sound, flopping onto the couch. “We had some trouble fitting everything in the car with Harry’s seat, and then Sirius—” she shoots him a glare, and he grins like she’s sweetly cooed his name “—wouldn’t leave without his hat, even though he’d lost it.” 
“One only gets to wear one’s elf hat every so often,” Sirius justifies, unperturbed. “I wasn’t going to miss the occasion even if it took me all night to find it.” 
“It nearly did,” Lily shoots back, but then James is at her side, having discarded his load of food and presents and now vying to hold Harry. 
“Come here, my handsome little guy.” 
“Used to call me that,” Sirius quips with his mouth full of gingerbread cookies, a heaping plate seeming to have found its way into his lap. 
Remus isn’t going to smile at that poor attempt at a joke, but once you laugh he can’t help it. 
“Only on special occasions,” James replies, taking Harry under the arms and hoisting him into the air. Harry laughs, and it’s probably the most contagious thing Remus has ever heard. Everyone smiles; James most of all, grinning ear to ear as he does it again. 
“He never lets me hold him,” Lily complains fondly. 
“Because I know how much you like seeing me with him,” James says breezily, making a face at Harry above him. “You’re mad with lust right now, Evans, don’t try to deny it.” 
“Sleaze,” Sirius says to him, the bell on his hat jingling when he tilts his head.
“I know you are, but what am I?” 
“I,” Remus says, “am hungry. And I’ll bet Y/N is too, since she’s very politely refrained from snacking much while we waited for you lot.” 
James' attention actually leaves his son for half a second to look at you and see if what Remus says is true, and you go instantly bashful. It doesn’t seem to matter how long you’re friends with them; having attention drawn to you will always bring some color to your cheeks. Lily comes to your rescue, ushering you into the kitchen like she needs somewhere to channel her mother hen urges while James is monopolizing Harry. 
“I hope you really are hungry,” she says, “because James has made enough bhaji to feed us all for a month.”
❆ ❆ ❆
Soon even James is stuffed and you’re all a bit tipsy on eggnog. Some of your natural anxiety fades as everything starts to feel slower and more fluid, your insides warm and soft as wax. 
“No, because it was so obvious,” Sirius says. He’s telling a story of a girl he’d seen at a coffee shop that he’s sure was enamored with him. James, naturally, agrees completely, but Lily and Remus aren’t so sure. “She did the—the thing. Y/N, back me up. When a girl makes eye contact with you and then looks off to the side, it means she’s not interested, but when she looks down, it’s because she’s nervous, right?”
You raise your eyebrows. “I think you made that up,” you tell him, tiny bits of laughter running in between your words. “Anyway, is her being nervous necessarily a good thing?” 
“She was nervous because she’s obsessed with me,” Sirius insists. 
“Or,” Remus says, “she was nervous because you were staring at her, and she thought you were going to follow her outside.” 
“And probably kill her,” Lily agrees. 
James’ eyebrows shoot up. “Merlin, you two are dark. Our Padfoot’s not putting out murderous vibes. He’s got too much boyish charm.” 
Sirius nods appreciatively, but Lily only shrugs, careful not to jostle Harry where he’s sleeping on her lap. “Girls have to think of those things.” 
“Gross,” James says, looking slightly troubled as he kisses the side of his wife’s head. “Well, I think she was in love with you, Pads.”
“Yeah,” Remus rolls his eyes, “he should show up at her house and find out. It’d be romantic.”
“And on that note,” James goes on, ignoring him, “shall we do presents?”
You all agree, and Sirius looks at James with an older brother’s entitlement. “Go ahead and distribute them, Prongsie.” 
James, well used to this, doesn’t even question it, scampering back and forth between the tree (which you can’t help but notice is somewhat lacking in the ornament department but quite sparkly) to deliver your presents at your feet. After a few rounds of this, you can’t stand it anymore and get up to help, laughing through the protests of your remaining three friends. (“He’s got it, love,” Remus says, and Sirius adds, “He’s got energy he needs to run off anyway.”) Between the two of you, the bottom of the Christmas tree is bare within a couple of minutes, small piles of presents next to each of your friends. You go to sit back by the pile meant for you, touched at the fact that you have a box from every person there. 
“S’not fair that James and Lily get to do couple’s presents now,” Sirius complains. “I’m going to start buying gifts for you like you’re one person, see how you like it.” 
The biggest pile is obviously for Harry, and you all start there, no small amount of eagerness in James’ expression as he tears open the first box. “The Velveteen Rabbit,” he reads aloud. “Wow, this is kinda hefty for a children’s book.” 
“Who’s it from?” Lily prompts, as if you don’t all already know. 
“Shit, I forgot to check.” 
“And that’s why we read the box,” Lily says slowly, and you get the sense this is a conversation that’s happened more than once, “before we start ripping, honey.” 
“It was me,” Remus volunteers, lips pulling into a half-smile. 
“Course it was,” James says, taking a break from sticking his tongue out at his wife to smile at Remus. “Thanks, Moony.” 
“You had the opportunity to get him Goodnight Moon,” Sirius tsks, “and you just let it pass you by.” 
Remus rolls his eyes, but then Lily says, “He already has that one,” and you watch as he tries and fails to suppress the shy smile that takes him. It shifts the scars on his cheek and lights his eyes with a warm tenderness. 
He looks especially pretty under the Christmas lights, you think. The warm glow suits him, bringing out the amber in his eyes and richening the various brown shades of his hair. It makes his skin look softer too, smooth even where you know he has stubble around his jawline. You want suddenly to reach out and touch it, and you’re glad you’re sitting too far from him to act on the urge. 
You’ve noticed Remus over the years, of course. It’d be impossible not to. You’ve always harbored a tiny crush on him, but you keep it shoved deep down in your gut where it can’t hurt anyone. You think the world of him, but you love your little group of friends more than anything else. You’re not unaware of the fact that Remus is a more crucial fixture in it than you are; if anything happened between you and it made things awkward for everyone, you’d be the one to go. 
“Aw, is this a hat?” Lily pulls something tawny brown from a box, and you realize they’ve gotten to your gift. “Oh my god, it has little antlers!”
You try not to smile too hard as she shows it to James and he coos, taking it from her hands. “No way, he’ll be like our little Prongsie! I’m going to put it on him.” 
“Don’t wake him,” Lily warns, but James waves her off.
“He can sleep through anything,” he says, settling the baby beanie on Harry’s head. Sure enough, he doesn’t stir. 
“Oh, that’s so darling.” Lily presses a hand to her chest. “Y/N, where’d you get this?”
You feel your face heat and hope the lighting is covering your blush. “I made it,” you admit. “I know we’re already well into winter, but I hope he can still use it a little.” 
“Um, he’s never taking it off. Like, ever.” James leans around Lily to press a smacking kiss to your cheek. You laugh, trying not to shrink in on yourself from all the attention. “Thanks, love.” 
Once all the cooing over Harry’s presents is done, the rest of the gift opening proceeds with decidedly less fanfare, though no shortage of gratitude. You get a bunch of purple eyeliners from Sirius (you’d complained to him a few weeks ago that they’d stopped selling your old one, and he’d been thoughtful enough to find you options to help decide upon new one), a cookbook from James and Lily (“Now you can stop eating all those frozen meals,” James tells you with a meaningful look), and a set of mittens from Remus (“They’re alpaca,” he explains. “Supposed to be extra warm, and your hands are always freezing.”). The rest of your gifts are received happily too, and then Remus’ living room is covered with the wrapping paper Lily had tried but eventually given up on getting everyone to put in piles as they went and you’re all starting to yawn. 
“Alright,” Lily says after a while, “it’s well past Harry’s bedtime, and ours, and I’m sure Remus would like his flat back.” 
“Booo.” Sirius lays back on the couch, letting his head loll over the edge of the armrest. “Domestic life has made you lame, Evans-Potter.” 
“Yeah, yeah,” James drawls, gathering Harry against his chest, “I saw you yawning, Pads. Let’s go.” 
You stand with the rest of them, going to find your shoes by the door. “Thanks for everything, Remus,” you say. “It was great.” 
“For a first time hosting,” James allows, jokingly prideful, “I suppose you did a pretty decent job. Big shoes to fill, and all that.” 
Remus smiles as he rolls his eyes, but it falters when his gaze settles on something behind you. “Are you all going to be alright getting home? It looks like it’s really picked up.” 
You follow his stare out the window. He’s not wrong. The unusually thick snowfall you’d arrived in has morphed into something that looks more like a blizzard, the wind whipping white across the black backdrop of sky outside Remus’ flat. 
James looks between the scene outside and his family once before seeming to make a decision. “Yeah, we’ll be alright,” he says, watching Lily as he talks. She nods her approval, and James’ voice becomes more solid. “We don’t have far to drive.”
Remus nods, still looking worried. His brows furrow as he turns to you. “What about you? Are you gonna be okay?”
“Yeah.” It’s the only answer in these situations, though you’re sure Remus would be alright with the alternative if you felt very strongly. “It doesn’t look too bad out there.” 
Remus casts another dubious glance out the window, and a particularly loud gust of wind whooshes past as if to spite you. “Are you sure? It looks pretty bad to me.” 
“Yeah,” James says, “don’t you live a bit far?”
“It’s not that far,” you fib, at the same time as Remus says, “She does.” 
You laugh awkwardly, pulling on your coat “It’s not. Anyway, I’ve driven in a lot worse than this.”
Lily gives you a small smile. “That’s hardly reassuring, babe.”
“You can stay here,” Remus offers, but you’re shaking your head before he’s even gotten the words out. 
“That’s sweet of you, but I can make it home.” You give him your most competent smile. “If I end up driving off the road and have to camp in my car, at least I’ll have fantastic mittens to keep the frostbite from my hands.” 
He gives you a deadpan look. “While I’m glad you’re excited to use my gift, I’d prefer to keep it from coming to that.”
“You can’t get in a crash and die on Christmas,” Sirius says. “It’d be, like, a super huge downer for us every year.” 
“I’ll be fine,” you insist. 
“Shortcake, I don’t care if we have to lock you in here,” James says, frowning in a way that doesn’t look particularly tough when he’s swaying back and forth to rock Harry on his chest. “There’s no way you can drive all the way to your place in this.” 
You roll your eyes good-naturedly, wrapping your scarf.
“Okay, you know I would never usually say this,” Lily says, gnawing on her lip as she watches the snow blow past outside, “but I think you should listen to the boys. It looks too scary out there to drive that far.” 
“It’s…” You look between them, your argument dying of futility on your tongue. James seems prepared to blockade you in Remus’ flat, and even Lily’s giving you a stern look. Your gaze lands on Remus, and the last of your resistance melts away.
“You really should stay here,” he says kindly. “Actually, I’d feel a lot better if you did. Okay?”
You sigh, slipping your scarf back over your head. “Okay.” 
“Phew!” Sirius says, pulling you into a one-armed hug. “Glad that’s settled. See you all soon, thanks for Christmas Moony!” 
“He’s so tired,” Lily says after Sirius is out the door. 
“Wiped,” James agrees, adjusting his grip on Harry so that he can wrap one arm around Remus’ neck. Remus leans down into the awkward hug, begrudgingly fond as he pats his friend on the back, then kisses Lily on the cheek when James moves to you. 
“Thanks for the gifts,” James says, grinning down at Harry’s knit antlers after he releases you. “He’s never taking this off.” 
“He means it.” Lily sends her husband a look as fond as it is weary as she hugs you. “I’ll probably have to bathe Harry when James is asleep so he doesn’t catch him without it.” 
Your face is feeling hot again. “I’m glad you like it,” you say with a little shrug, but your friends are used to your shyness and only smile and wave on their way out. 
And then the door shuts, and you and Remus are left alone in the quiet. 
“Are you tired?” he asks you, moving back into the living room. Lily had sneakily taken care of a good deal of the cleanup, but there’s still a few half-empty glasses of eggnog strewn about which Remus begins gathering. 
“Not really,” you answer honestly, beating him to the sink and forcing him to hand you the glasses to wash. “Are you?”
“No,” he agrees, and the look he shoots you has to be the gentlest form malice has ever taken as he takes up the dish towel and stations himself beside you. “Fancy a film?”
“Mmm, a Christmas film?”
“Obviously.” 
The dishes are finished quickly thanks to Lily’s interference, and Remus makes you some hot cocoa while you scroll through movies, calling out possibilities. The only conflict between you is your equal complaisance to whatever the other prefers, and you eventually settle on the first one you’d seen just to put an end to it. You take your cocoa gladly when Remus passes it to you, blowing gently while he settles a blanket over the both of you, your knees curled towards him and his one leg crossed over the other angling him towards you. 
The first few minutes of the film are spent in that contented quietude that the two of you so often fall into when you’re alone together, but then Remus asks you, “What is it?”
You look over at him. “Hm?”
“You’re frowning.”
“Oh.” You laugh. “I’m just thinking about snow.” 
His lips quirk. “It is kind of the bane of your existence tonight, isn’t it?”
“No.” You smile down at your hands, hoping it's not obvious how not unpleasant you find your circumstances at the moment. “That’s not it. I was thinking, I kind of hate how it always has to snow in these movies. It makes any Christmas where it doesn’t snow feel like it’s not up to par. Or not quintessential enough, or something.”
“Mmm, I see.” Remus looks back to the screen, considering. “Does that make this your quintessential Christmas, then? Are we living up to the movie standard?”
You watch him while he watches the TV, blue light cast over his handsome features. “I guess so,” you say.
The longer you sit there, the closer you get. You blame it on the late hour, your bodies relaxing towards each other on the couch. Remus’ arm brushes yours when he lifts his mug for a sip, and your knees dig into his thigh under the blanket. Soon you’ve drooped enough that you’re leaning nearly entirely against him. You don’t notice until Remus puts an arm around you to encourage your head to his shoulder. You tense but don’t sit up, and eventually his head comes to rest atop yours. 
“Are you crying?” he murmurs during one scene near the end. 
Your reply is equally soft, not wanting to jostle either Remus’ head or his shoulder with your speech movements. “I really like this part.” 
“You know how it ends. It’s going to be okay.” 
“I know.” You sniffle, bringing a hand up to wipe your face now that you’ve been caught. “I know it is. It’s just really profound.” 
“Sure it is.”
“It’s the spirit of Christmas, Remus. Goodwill to man.” 
“Okay.” He rubs your shoulder, and you pretend not to feel his shaking with quiet laughter. “Okay, I agree with you.” 
And awhile later: “You’re tired,” he accuses.
You hum a denial.
“Sweetheart” —your stomach flutters, and there’s a jolt somewhere behind your ribcage; you ignore it— “you’re practically falling asleep right here.”
“Are you tired?” 
He shifts slightly, stubble tickling your forehead. “No. But you are.” 
“I want to finish the movie.” 
He seems to debate this for a moment, then his shoulder relaxes beneath you. “Alright.” 
The credits start, and neither of you move. 
You let your head slump more heavily onto his shoulder. “Your place really does look lovely. Thanks for having me.”
“Of course, love.” You can feel his smile squish up against the top of your head. “Would you go so far as to say my hosting measures up to James’?”
You chuckle, gesturing to yourself. “I’d say you’ve gone above and beyond, for sure.” 
Remus laughs too. “Perfect. Tell him so, would you?”
You’re going to agree when a great yawn takes you. You keep it quiet, but there’s no avoiding the way your chin digs into Remus’ shoulder, your shoulders rising with the prolonged inhale. He moves away from you. 
“Ready for bed?” He smiles down at you as you run a knuckle under your eyes, collecting tears from your lashes. 
You shrug an admittance. “Sort of. But I don’t want to kick you out of your own living room if you’re not tired yet.”
“No, I’m pretty wiped too,” he says. “Anyway, I’m the one kicking you out. You’re staying in my room.” 
You had a feeling he would say something like that. You grab a throw pillow, getting situated with your head near the armrest. “No, I’m not.” 
His laugh is disbelieving. “Yeah, you are. Come on, you’re my guest. I’m not letting you sleep on the couch.” 
You tug the blanket off his lap, curling up with your pillow stubbornly. “I’m not going to steal your bed. You’ve already done so much. You’ve helped me try gingerbread cookies and given me nice mittens and hosted an amazing Christmas. Let me sleep on your couch, please.” 
“While I appreciate all that,” he says, “no.” 
“Remus.” You’re near pleading at this point. “Your back will hurt.”
“Your back will hurt.” 
“Not as badly as yours.” You give him a hard look. “I’m not taking your bed.” 
There’s a brief silence, terser than your usual ones but no more awkward for it. You stare each other down. 
“Right,” Remus says, reclaiming the remote from where he’d set it on the coffee table. “I suppose we’d better start another movie, then.”
“Remus, come on.” You sit up, giving his shoulder a gentle nudge. “You’ve just said you’re tired. Go to bed, please.”
The TV flickers back on. “I’m not leaving this couch.” 
“Well, neither am I,” you laugh, completely serious. 
He rolls his eyes, then snuggles up to you under the blanket. You take this as a sign that he’s not really very cross with you. “You’re much more argumentative than usual tonight, you know that?”
You huff, laying your head back on his shoulder. “I could say the same about you.” 
“True, but I know I’ll win out in the end.” 
“You can think that if you like.” 
“Want to watch this one next?”
“Sure.”
❆ ❆ ❆
Remus watches as your eyes drift closed, then twitch back open, over and over again. He thinks his bony shoulder is the only thing keeping you from falling over the precipice of sleep. If he were James Potter, he’d simply pick you up with ease and carry you to his bed, but Remus can’t say he’s entirely sorry for this extra time with you, even if neither of you are awake enough to make much conversation.
Silly as it sounds, he enjoys just sitting here with you nearly as much as talking. Your cheek squished into his shoulder, your legs curled up atop his, you’re warm and weighty against him. 
He should have known it would be a hopeless endeavor trying to get you to agree to take the bed. You’re a gentle thing by nature, but stubborn in your selflessness. Even if you had gone, Remus knows he wouldn’t have slept all night anyway, too preoccupied with thoughts of you all wrapped up in his sheets, your face pressed to his pillow, getting your shampoo-smell on the pillowcase. He doesn’t know if it smells like him (does he have a smell?), but he would have wondered all night if it does, if you were noticing. 
Your head nearly rolls off his shoulder, and a pitying sound escapes Remus when you jerk awake to set it right. He lets his head rest on yours so it doesn’t happen again. Your eyelids droop closed almost immediately, and Remus begins dragging his thumb over your shoulder blade, a nice, slow back-and-forth. You’re quiet for a long while. 
“Are you trying to put me to sleep?” you murmur, words all sloshed together. 
It’s a conscious effort not to let his thumb slow. “No,” he says. 
You hum. 
“Unless you mean it’s working.” 
Another long silence. “It’s not,” you reply, head growing heavier on his shoulder.  
He chuckles. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you to bed, hm?” 
“You go to bed,” you mumble, and if he thought you were capable of it he’d say there was some bitterness lining your words. 
He sighs. “You’re too nice for your own good,” he tells you. 
“No,” you reply, softly, plainly, like it’s a fact, “that’s you.” 
He picks his head up off of yours to see your face. “Yeah?” 
“Mhm.” Your eyes are closed. You don’t know he’s looking. Your face is wholly relaxed, no hint of pretense about you. “You’re the best I know.” 
Something warm and wheedling works its way through Remus’ ribs to the soft gooey core of him. “Well,” he tells you honestly, “you’re the best I know.”
You seem unconcerned. “Another impasse for us.” 
He actually laughs at that, instantly guilty when it jostles you on his shoulder and your eyelids peel apart. He can’t regret it, though, when you look at him the way you do. You’re glowing in the light coming off the tree, soft and warm and lovely, and yet you’re looking at him like he’s the only place your eyes want to go. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world. 
You come gradually more awake, eyebrows twitching towards each other just slightly. “Remus,” you murmur, and he finally does what he’s been wanting to since you’d shown up at his door hours ago. He kisses you. 
Your lips are pliable, parting for his almost instantly, like you’d been waiting. His hand coasts from your shoulder to cup the back of your head, keeping you close as your nose slides against his. You both all but fall back onto the bed you’d made yourself on the couch. He’s careful not to put too much of his weight on you, but when his tongue brushes across the inside of your lip and you inhale, he draws back. 
“I...” He pants into the space between you. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
You make a sound that’s half hum, half whine, and bump your chin up into his. 
Remus loses himself again with frightening quickness. It’s even better now that you seem more sure, your mouth asking, coaxing against his. You taste like gingerbread. An low, embarrassing sound pries free from the back of his throat when you wind your fingers into the hair at his nape, and he slips his free hand beneath your back, getting as close to you as he can. Your legs make room for him automatically, knees tipping open so he can slot between them.
“Do you—” you breathe when his attentions move downward, tilting your head to the side to offer access as he mouths at the skin just under your jaw. “Do you want this?” 
The word leaves him in a soft exhale, muffled against your skin. “Yes.”
You swallow. He feels the movement in your throat. “Are you sure?”
His eyelashes brush your jaw as his kisses slow, become more tender, more intentional. “Lovely girl,” he murmurs. “You’re silly, you know that?” His mouth meanders it’s way over to your pulse, getting stuck there and sucking at your skin lazily. “I mean, you’re smart.” The words are all mushed up against you. Noticeably amused. Remus quit the eggnog hours ago, yet he feels half drunk. “You’re really smart, honey, but you can be so oblivious sometimes.” 
You don’t respond, and as much as he loves the sound of your voice, he’s hoping your silence is in his favor right now. He wants you wrapped up in him, wants to engross you so completely you forget how to form your lips around speech. 
“Do you want to move to my room?” 
You take a breath. Fuck, even the sound of you breathing is nearly enough to undo him. He moves back to your mouth as if to intercept it, nipping at your lower lip. 
“Is this a ploy to get me off the couch?” 
“You’re relentless.”
Your lips curve against his, and he mirrors them without thinking. You stay quiet.
“Fine. I promise it’s not, okay?” 
Your laugh is fizzy like champagne, and it warms Remus’ chest like it too. “Okay,” you say in that lovely voice. “Okay, let’s go.” 
❆ ❆ ❆
You’d always thought Remus was all softness. He’s made up of soft looks, soft colors, and hair that you can now confirm is soft as dandelion fluff. But this night has defied your expectations in a thousand ways. And your Remus, soft, gentle, kindhearted Remus, is scraping at your throat with his teeth. 
You have to suck your lip between your teeth to keep from making a humiliatingly desperate sound when he passes his tongue over his work, another crescent moon that’s sure to be purple by morning. Your hands are beseeching in his dandelion fluff hair, keeping him close while his hands are busy lower, one gripping the fat of your hip while the other drags tantalizingly slow up and down your side. He’s kissing you like you have all the time in the world, sometimes rough but no more urgent for it, and you’re breathy and molten and useless beneath him. 
You’re brimming with adoration and something else too. Something that you think you could almost identify—you’ve felt it before, but never like this. 
“What do you want to do?” There’s a raspy quality to his voice that would send you to your knees if he hadn’t already taken them out from under you. He dots leisurely, open-mouthed kisses up the column of your throat, soothing over spots he’s already nipped and sucked into oblivion. Your head feels fuzzy. “Sweetheart?” 
Christ, is he trying to send you into cardiac arrest? Remus doesn’t stop kissing you even at your silence, finding your lip still held between your teeth and encouraging it free with his own. You try to remember what he’d ask you. What do you want to do? You have no idea. Where would you even start? You want him to keep talking to you in that raspy voice, that’s for sure. You want…you want to keep kissing him, to know what his hands would do if you let them beneath your clothes. You want to keep investigating that warm feeling in your gut. See where it takes you. 
Remus’ kisses slow, then stop. He pulls back to look at you. In the dim street light coming in through the window, you wonder what he sees. “You alright?” His voice is soft, gentle, saying it’s okay if you’re not without saying it. 
You take a breath. It shakes a little on the way out, but you don’t think he can tell. “Yeah, I’m good. Just nervous. But not in a bad way.” Nervous-happy. 
“Don’t be,” he implores, lips brushing your cheek. “It’s only me.”
Exactly, you think. It’s you. 
“What do you want to do?” You turn his own question back on him. 
His smile is tinged with bashfulness. “I mean, whatever you’re alright with.” There’s a tentative quietness to his voice. “Have you…”
If it were possible for you to get any warmer, embarrassment would do it. “No,” you say, shrinking away from him though there’s nowhere to go. Whatever the end to that question might be, the answer is no. 
“That’s okay,” he says quickly, dropping another kiss on the corner of your mouth like a cure-all remedy. “That’s okay, you just tell me if you want to stop, yeah? If you don’t like something, or you want to slow down—anything at all, you let me know.” He kisses you again, further up on your burning cheek. “Okay?” 
You swallow. “Okay.” 
“Don’t be nervous.” He says it like a promise, hand stroking your side again as if to soothe you. His lips find your shoulder, nosing the fabric of your sleeve. “Can I take this off, lovely?” 
You nod, words all stoppered up in your throat, then realize he can’t see you and do it yourself. He has to pause as it comes off, taking the opportunity to do away with his own sweater, tossing it on the floor beside the bed. You do the same, and your bra quickly follows. You’d always thought (largely influenced, admittedly, by trashy novels) that this was the part where the guy stops what he’s doing and openly oggles the shirtless woman in front of him, but Remus has seen tits before and wastes no time in getting his mouth back on yours, pressing you into the mattress. His skin is as heated as yours, the areas where you touch deliciously warm despite the cold still whipping past his bedroom window. You allow yourself one sweeping, appreciative pass over the muscles on Remus’ back before your hands go down to your bottoms, shimmying them down your legs. A long-fingered hand finds the exposed skin of your thigh and kneads reverently. You swallow Remus’ groan, and he kisses you more deeply, long, savoring passes of his tongue along the inside of your mouth until his lips move downward. 
One hand stays at your hip while the other strokes up and down your thigh, spit cooling in a path down your stomach. You try to relax as he passes your navel, but the anticipation is hard to shake. You’re nearly trembling when he kneels between your legs, kissing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. 
“Is this okay?” he murmurs. 
It’s all you can do to nod, gasping when his teeth drag over one of the stretch marks there. You clutch at the sheets above your head like a lifeline. 
“We can stop anytime you want.” 
You inhale raggedly. “No,” you manage. Your breathlessness is obvious in the quiet room. “I want—I want to keep going.” You pause. “Do you?”
You can hear the smile in his voice. “Yeah, love, that sounds good to me.” 
Good, you’re about to say, but Remus’ next kiss lands on your slit, and your voice withers and dies in your throat. He uses a hand to push one of your legs open further while bringing the other over his shoulder, spreading you open. His breath fans hot over your cunt.
You’re writhing at the first broad stroke of his tongue, and he wraps his fingers around the outside of your thigh, keeping you still while placating you at the same time. 
Remus takes his time, lapping experimentally at your entrance before making his way upwards. You gasp as his tongue skims over your clit, burrowing your hand in his hair before hesitating. 
“Is this okay?” you ask. 
His hummed assent has you tightening your grasp. He brushes over your clit one more time, and when this gets a similar reaction from you, begins sucking on it gently. You’re panting, and Remus has to move his grip to your hip to hold you in place, squeezing indulgently at the fat there while he narrows in on what you like. Before long you’re trembling all over, grasping feebly at his hair as you squeeze your eyes shut against the odd sort of bliss that’s taking you under. 
“Remus,” you breathe, and it’s a miracle that he hears you but he does, raising his head with a lewd suctioning sound. 
He looks at you questioningly with eyes almost all pupil. 
“Come here,” you plead. 
He obeys, crawling back up you to peck at your bitten lips. “Doing alright?” he asks you.
“Yeah,” you promise, cupping his head in one hand and wrapping your leg over the back of his as if to prevent him from leaving. “Just wanted to kiss you.” 
You feel him smile against your lips. He slots his mouth over yours, and you dedicate yourself to his top lip. He tastes like sex, braver now as he explores your mouth. He drags your bottom lip between his teeth, and you make a high, breathy sound. His grip on you tightens. 
“Do you think—can we—”
He hesitates, kissing softly at the corner of your lips. “Are you sure?” 
“I want to. Do you?” 
Remus actually laughs, muffling the sound against your cheek. “Yeah, I fucking want to. I’ve wanted to forever.” 
You can’t think about that. Think about that and you’ll fall to pieces. 
He noses affectionately at the underside of your jaw, slipping down you once again to stand at the end of the bed. He steps out of his pants and grabs a condom from the drawer of his nightstand. “You’ll tell me if I do anything you don’t like, yeah?” 
“Mhm,” you promise, anticipation coiling up snugly with that other thing in your stomach. They don’t feel all that distinct from one another. 
“Alright,” he says, palm slipping under your thigh. “Can I lift this up, love?” 
You nod, and he grasps the soft underside of your knee, bringing your leg up to your stomach as he lines up. You gasp as he pushes in slowly, watching your face to make sure you’re doing okay. You’re already slick and worked open from his ministrations, and it’s still a bit shocking. His thumb strokes beside your knee as your walls adjust to the size of him. “How’s that feel?” 
“Good,” you say honestly. There’s a note of desperation to your voice. “I can—more, please.” 
He’s quick to accommodate you, pushing deeper as he folds himself over you to recapture your lips. Your breaths shallow. His free hand moves to your breast, kneading gently at the soft flesh. He gives it a firm squeeze at the same time as he moves inside you, and you nearly bite Remus’ lip off, a half-suppressed keening sound escaping you. 
“So good,” he mumbles. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Taking it so well.” He lifts his head, kissing your temple. “Think you can handle a bit more?” 
Your response is barely more than breath, but he catches the affirmation, pressing another firm kiss to your forehead before he bottoms out inside you. Your head lolls back, fuzzy with the strange pain and even stranger pleasure. Remus tightens his grip on your leg to keep it up, dotting kisses down the side of your face. 
“Good girl,” he says hoarsely. “Still doing okay, lovely?” 
“Yeah,” you say, somewhat dizzy. “Remus, it feels so good.” 
“Good,” he croons. “It should feel good, love. Ready for me to move?”
“Mhm.”
He pulls out slowly, dragging against your sensitive walls. He starts mouthing at your neck again before he pushes back inside you, filling you up all over again. A slew of expletives roll out of your mouth, unbidden and entirely unlike you, as Remus begins pumping your breast again, the rhythm matching that of his thrusts. He sucks the flesh of your neck between his teeth, and you bite down hard on your lower lip to repress what promises to be a high-pitched and deeply mortifying sound. 
Remus praises you amply, soft kisses and reverent touches and a raspy “Fuck, sweetheart, just like that.” Your head floats or swims or both, your body tensed all over and yet completely plaint beneath Remus’ hands. He moves back to your mouth, discovering your bottom lip held captive between your teeth. 
“Come on, don’t do that,” he chides, easing it free with gentle kisses. “Let me hear you, bet you sound so pretty.” 
The Welsh accent that’s grown faint after years of living away from home is emerging now, as is the crude vocabulary it's tied to in memory, a host of barely comprehensible profanities spewing from Remus’ lips when you clench on him again. His grip tightens on your tit, and a moan tears from the back of your throat. 
“That’s it,” he praises, head dipping to kiss the soft spot he’s found under your ear. “There you are, lovely girl.” 
The coil in your core grows impossibly tighter, your thighs quivering as you approach a peak you’ve never known before. Remus feels it, cooing softly even as he drives into you harder.
“You gonna cum, sweetheart?” You nod dazedly. “Good, good, just let it happen, I’ve got you.” 
“Come here,” you demand again, and he wastes no time in obliging you. He kisses your lips sore as you dig your nails into his shoulders, pulling his body flush against yours, the feeling inside you growing so great you don’t know where to put it, don’t know if you can contain it. You can’t remember ever feeling this close to someone, Remus’ touch the only thing keeping you from hurtling off some unknown precipice.
“Let go,” he urges, and you do. You trust him to catch you. 
It’s bliss like you’ve never known. You cry out, and Remus’ hand slides down from your breast to spread wide and flat against your ribs. Steadying. He kisses soothingly at your jaw as you gasp and pant your way back to him, grip slackening on his shoulders. 
“Good girl,” he murmurs, though you really haven’t done much at all. 
“Are you—” You swallow, choking on the emotion that’s risen unbidden in your throat. “Are you close?” 
Remus smiles, coming back to your lips like he can’t help himself. He pecks you once, twice. “Sweetheart, I’m more than close. I’ve barely been holding myself together since you kissed me.” 
Well, he’d actually kissed you, but you’ll take the compliment anyway. 
“Do you think you’ll be alright if I move again?” he asks. “It’s okay if not.” 
“You can,” you say certainly, leaning up on your elbows to see him better. “Is there…anything I can do to help?”
The smile fades from his face, leaving something far more tender in its wake. “Just, keep looking at me like that?” He says it almost like he’s embarrassed, voice quiet with supplication. 
You want to tell him you’d never needed asking to look at him, but you don’t, keeping your eyes on his obediently as he pumps into you. He really must have been close, because he’s cursing again not long after, accent twisting his syllables with a gruff pleasure. Your walls contract at the movement, still sensitive, and that’s all it takes. Remus digs his fingers into your waist and makes sounds you’re sure you’ll dream about, panting, breathy moans you sit up to smother against your lips. He follows you back down onto the mattress, mouth slotted against your own. You hold him to you until his breaths even and his grip on you loosens. 
“Was that alright?” he asks, some of the rasp still lingering in his voice. 
You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, dizzy with affection. “Yeah, it was good,” you promise him. Understatement of the year. “Really good, Rem.” 
“Good,” he echoes, lips brushing the skin under your eye. You don’t know how you know, but you can feel the amusement building in him just before he asks, “Tired yet?”
You guffaw. The force of it jostles him on top of you, and his lips curve against your cheek. “A little bit, yeah.” Actually, you hadn’t realized how exhausting sex would be. If it didn’t mean having to take your eyes off Remus, you’d have closed them and passed out by now. 
“Good,” he says again, hands sliding down your waist as he moves to stand again. You make a small sound as he shifts, and Remus shushes you, slipping out from inside you. You watch fascinatedly as he removes the condom, sticky with cum. He tosses it in the wastebasket under his desk and walks away from you.
“Hey,” you protest. “You’d better not be sneaking off to sleep on the couch.” 
His chuckle echoes in the bathroom, followed by the sound of a cabinet opening. “So mistrustful,” he says when he comes back in with a damp towel. “What’ve I done to arouse such suspicion?” 
Your fuzzy brain gets stuck on the word arouse in his teasing tone, and it takes you a second to answer. “Well, I’m here and a blink away from falling asleep, so you tell me.” 
“Fair enough.” He rolls his eyes good-naturedly, taking your thigh in his grasp to move it aside. “Alright if I clean you up, love?” 
You startle, coming up on your elbows to see where Remus is holding the towel between your legs. “I didn’t realize it’d be so messy,” you admit. “You don’t have to, though, I can do it myself.” 
“I don’t mind,” he says, thumb soothing over your knee. “S’my mess anyway.” He seems to have not quite agreed with himself to say that last part aloud, a blush spreading over his cheeks. 
“Sure,” you say, mostly to alleviate his embarrassment. You let your weight lean more heavily on your elbows, trying your best to look relaxed. “Sure, if you’re alright with it.” 
“Might be a bit sensitive,” he warns. You’d guessed as much, but it's worth it for all the praises he rains down upon you as he works, finishing with a kiss to the side of your knee. 
You miss him humiliatingly when he goes to the bathroom again to discard the towel. It’s all you can do not to reach for him when he comes back, but luckily Remus reads your mind anyway, slipping under the covers and tugging you to him until his lips rest against your forehead. 
“That was really great,” you tell him. 
“I thought so too.” 
“You’ll stay here, right?” 
A low laugh. “Yeah, sweetheart. I’m staying here.” 
❆ ❆ ❆
Remus hasn’t known anyone to sleep in longer than Sirius, but you seem to be vying for his title. The sun has long since passed above his windows when Remus wakes, and still he has time to spend idle hours marveling at the closeness of you. His nose is cold above the covers, but everywhere your bodies are pressed together is warm, your palm flat against his chest and one of your legs wormed between his own. Your fingers twitch as you dream. 
It has to be early afternoon by the time he rises, slipping his hand carefully from beneath you and plodding into the kitchen. The blanket is still on the couch where you left it, throw pillow creased with your indentation. Your mugs are discarded on the coffee table with globs of once-hot cocoa stuck to the bottom. Bright light refracts off the snow outside and into his kitchen, making everything look shiny new. 
Remus starts the kettle first, letting that warm up while he rifles through the cabinets for his big mixing bowl and starts whisking together ingredients. A bird chirps outside as the kettle gurgles, and somehow the peace of Remus’ kitchen feels more complete knowing that you’re sleeping just down the hall. 
Until, apparently, you’re not. Your footsteps are so silent he startles when you appear, still blinking yourself awake as you cross your arms over the sweater you’ve thrown on with your bottoms from the night before. Remus’ sweater. And Remus had thought he’d come to terms with the idea of you here, in his apartment like the best Christmas gift of all time, but apparently not, because his heart stutters and stops at the sight of you. 
He’d thought you’d looked adorable in the soft glow of the Christmas lights the night before, and again tucked into his sheets this morning, but you’re almost ethereal now. Sunlight bathes the planes of your face and gleams off your hair, making you appear almost like you’re emanating the bright light rather than standing in it. You smile at him, seraphim. 
“Morning. Sorry I didn’t ask,” you say, fingering the hem of Remus’ sweater. “I was cold and you were gone, I hope you don’t mind.” 
Mind? Remus can’t even think. 
“Course not,” he manages, but just barely. It’s more an exhale than a statement. “Did you sleep alright?” 
“Really well,” you say. His sleeves cover your fingers as you rest your elbows on the counter, and your gaze has gone a bit shy again, but Remus can hardly blame you. You both seemed to have experienced unusual nerve the night before. He only hopes you aren’t regretting your part in it. And now that he’s had some time to think, he hopes even more that you’d truly wanted it in the first place. “Did you?” 
“Yeah, thanks.”
You lean a bit closer in a way that he doubts either of you are even slightly unaware of, peering into the mixing bowl. “What’re you making?” 
“I’m experimenting,” he says, though he wishes now he weren’t. He wanted to make you something good, but his confidence in his adaptation is waning now that you’re in the room. He should have gone with something basic, tried-and-true. “Or, I’m attempting. Gingerbread pancakes?” 
His voice crawls up into a question, as if he really has no idea what it is he’s trying to make (maybe that’s closer to the truth), but Remus’ regrets vanish instantly at the genuine elation that lights your expression. 
“Really?” 
A laugh startles out of him, giddy. “Yeah, does that sound alright?” 
“More than alright,” you declare with full seriousness, seating yourself at the bar counter. “That sounds amazing, Rem, thank you. Merlin, I owe you so big for all of this.” 
“I think you’ve more than made it up to me.” It slips out without permission, Remus too high on the flow of your conversation to filter the words through his brain before they reach his mouth. His loathsome, traitorous mouth. “I mean, I’m sorry—fuck, that sounds awful—I only meant that I’ve had a really good time with you here. I’m glad you stayed.” 
You flush horribly, and Remus doesn’t expect he’s faring much better. 
“Not that I’m only glad because of—or, I’m always glad to have you. As a friend, too.” 
There’s a tiny pinch in your features, gone before he can diagnose it. Somehow, you seem even more uncomfortable. “Right.” You give him a thin smile. It’s a hearty attempt, but you’re too genuine a soul to fake it. Remus hates himself for it. “As a friend.” 
They’re his own words, put hearing them from your mouth and with that piss-poor smile feels like having a fire poker jammed between his ribs. 
With his track record this morning, he really should be taking a vow of silence, but he can’t seem to stop himself. “Just friends, then?” Hesitance makes his voice sound quiet even in the silent kitchen. He looks down, stirring the batter to avoid watching the answer take form on your face. 
“I mean,” your tone is a match to his, “is that what you want?” 
A short, soft laugh escapes him. “I think I made what I want fairly clear last night.” 
There’s a short silence. “I thought I did too.” 
It’s a conscious effort to keep stirring. Had you? Remus had kissed you, he’d brought you to his room, he’d been the one to ask if you wanted to do more. And you’d been game for it all, sure, but he can’t help but wonder if you were just going along with it. If maybe you’d thought it was just a fuck, something he’d come up with to pass the time while you were both snowed in, no strings attached. Remus could understand that. He could disentangle the strings from last night if it’s what you want. But he’s liked you for years. He could love you oh so easily. He’s practically teetering on the edge of it already, though you’ve only been friends all this time. 
Remus spoons some batter into a waiting pan on the stove. He’s debating asking what exactly it is that you thought you’d made clear when you speak again. 
“I understand if it’s too much for you.” Your voice is shy. He looks up, and your shoulders are hunched as if you’re trying to hide yourself. You shrink further under his gaze. “We can stay just friends if it’s…if that’s what you want. I want whatever’s easier for you.” Your next words are so impossibly soft, Remus has to strain to hear them over the low sizzling of the pancake batter. “I really want you to stay in my life.” 
“What?” It’s a staccato, loud enough that it surprises you both, Remus stepping toward you while you nearly flinch back. “Sorry.” His hand goes up, reaching into the space between you as if he can soothe you from feet away. He lowers his volume. “Sorry, sweetheart, I just—I didn’t realize that was even on the table. I would never want to not be in your life.” 
“I just mean that I don’t want to make things weird for you, or for everyone else—”
“Hey.” He manages to cross the distance this time, his hand landing on your wrist atop the counter. Remus isn’t sure why he needs it there so desperately, but he suddenly feels much better. “There is nothing that could make any of us not want to be friends with you. I can speak for everyone in that regard. Okay?” 
You look at him consideringly for a moment. Remus holds your stare, letting you see his certainty. “Okay,” you echo, sounding unsure. He’ll deal with that later, he decides.
“Okay,” he says once more, and it’d almost be firm if it weren’t so gentled by the tenderness he can never seem to get rid of around you. Even so, what he says next doesn’t sound particularly tender. It’s not very kind to you, he knows, but Remus is selfish, and he feels (selfishly) like he’s done his part already. He tries to phrase it as nicely as he can. “Can you tell me what it is that you want, please?” 
You try to shrink again, and Remus’ grip tightens on your wrist instinctually as if to keep you from running off. He swipes his thumb over your skin apologetically. “Remus, come on.” You sound almost upset, but it’s hard to tell with your voice so quiet. “I know I’m not that good at—at covering myself up. I must have hearts in my eyes half the time I look at you.” 
Remus would give a month’s rent to know what you can see in his eyes right now. Even if he’d been hoping for an answer something like that, he hadn’t expected it. And for you to act like it’s been obvious…he does his best to think back. 
You’ve always been a shy thing. It had taken James months to get you to be remotely yourself around them, and though you’d seemed to warm to Remus first, you’d always retained some of your bashfulness when you were alone together. He’d chalked it up to the result of two people, quiet by nature, with no wildly extroverted James or Sirius or Lily to run interference. 
You’ve always been kind to him, but you’re kind to everyone. How is anyone supposed to suspect favoritism from a soul as indiscriminately sweet as yours? 
He recalls your voice last night, thin and reedy and fragile as the cattails that had bordered the river behind his house as a kid. Wary of getting swept along by the current, but willing to go if Remus would take you. Do you want this?
He’d called you oblivious for asking. How could you wonder, when he’d been the one to kiss you and has probably been looking like he wanted to for years? He’s certainly been thinking about it for as long. But perhaps your obliviousness is another congruity between the two of you. 
So much for opposites attract. 
“I think I’m an idiot,” he says, and mercifully, a smile far more real than the last sneaks onto your face. 
“You are not,” you reply, ever forgiving. 
“Don’t tell Sirius,” he warns, “but I really think I am.” His voice drops into a more earnest register. “I had no idea, love, I’m sorry. Maybe you’re a better actress than you thought. But if you don’t want to be friends, I don’t want to either.” Remus hesitates. “Or, I always want to be your friend, just—”
“Remus?” 
Finally. Someone needs to stop him. “Yeah?” 
“Your pancake…”
He turns to find a thin spire of smoke rising from the pan. “Oh, fuck.” He grabs a spatula and quickly flips the pancake, but there’s no saving it. The bottom side is completely blackened. It’s inedible. “Sorry, I…I’m not sure I have enough batter for much more.” 
“It’s fine.” There’s laughter in your tone, and that’s more than enough to make up for it. “It was a really sweet thought, that’s what matters anyway.” 
Remus turns to find you’ve slipped out of your seat and are standing uncertainly on the threshold of the kitchen. His heart warms with incandescent, aching fondness. 
“Would you come here?” he asks. 
You comply with an eagerness he wonders he’s never noticed before, stepping forward to let him fold you into his arms. Your wrists cross over his mid back and the tip of his nose mushes into your hair as he touches his lips to the top of your head. He can’t believe he could have been holding you like this all along if only he hadn’t been so thick. He supposes he’ll have to make the most of it now. 
“Let’s do away with asking about want, does that sound alright?” He rubs lightly between your shoulder blades, wonders if you like the feel of his breath on your scalp. “How about you tell me if anything comes up that you don’t want, and I’ll do the same.”
“Yeah.” Remus knows he likes the feel of your voice on his skin, chin moving against his chest. “Yeah, that sounds good.” 
“Good.” He smiles, pressing another kiss to your head. “Okay, should we venture out to find something for breakfast? Or lunch, I suppose it is by now.” 
You ease out of his arms. “I really should go home.” There’s an apology already embedded in your tone, but you add one anyway. “Sorry, but my cat’s been there all night by herself, so…”
“Right.” Remus ignores the dull throb behind his sternum, which is really a bit dramatic. He’ll see you soon, surely. “Yeah, that makes sense. Think you’ll be able to drive?” 
“I mean, I looked outside.” You shrug, backing towards where you’d hung your coat the night before. “The roads here are cleared, which I hope means they’ve gotten to most of them already.” 
“That’s good,” he says, though he feels the opposite. Your poor cat, he’s pitted completely against her now. She’s done nothing to deserve the resentment he’s directing at her, almost petulant in his malcontent. “Good, good.” 
You’re both silent as you put on your shoes, your scarf. It’s not unusual for the two of you, but it lacks its usual easy contentedness. Your eyes flit up as you pull on your new gloves, a silent thanks in them that you know Remus won’t let you voice aloud again. Despite the upset in his chest, he smiles. 
“I…listen, I have to go home,” you tell him, looking down as you wriggle your fingers more snugly into the gloves. “I have to feed my cat. But that doesn’t necessarily mean I want to…leave.” 
Remus can’t see how that changes anything, but he recognizes it for the olive branch it is. You’re both so uncertain, and you’re trying to alleviate his worries about what you leaving right now means. He can return the favor. 
“I don’t want you to leave either,” he says, “but I get it. She seems important to you, best to keep her well.” 
“Exactly.” You smile, relieved. “But I mean, if you’re not doing anything, you could come meet her? We could pick up breakfast on the way. Or I could make you something there.” 
Remus can’t believe his luck. And, once again, his stupidity in not getting there himself. Why is it that all of a sudden, everything that has to do with you seems so absurdly difficult? At least one of you is thinking clearly. 
“Yeah, that would be fantastic.” He’s grinning hugely, totally unlike him but liking it very much. “Let me grab my coat.” 
“Wait.” There’s a newly familiar breathless quality to your voice, and when Remus turns you’re already coming forward to meet him. Your palm slides against the stubble along his jaw as you stretch your neck, kissing him sweetly on the lips. “There,” you say, timidity shrouded beneath a good layer of happiness, “now we’re even.” 
Remus laughs, loud and startled. He wants to be generous with you, he really does, but he still thinks you’re far from even. “I’m not sure about that, sweetheart,” he says warmly, pressing a brief kiss to the corner of your eyebrow, “but we'll get there.” 
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nathaslosthershit · 3 months
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A Much Needed Interview (OP81)
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(Part 2 of Teen Dad) Summary: After the shock of Oscar revealing himself to be a former teen dad, he joins an interview in the hopes of clearing everything up and limiting the overwhelming amount of questions he has been getting.
“Oscar, it is nice of you to sit down with us. I know it has been an interesting few weeks for you and your family. How are you guys all doing?” The interviewer asks.
‘Yeah, y’know, I had expected to one day have to open up about it all, but I never thought I’d have to do it the way I did. It has been fine, obviously my kids are young enough to not be impacted because they aren’t on social media, but it has been strange for my fiancée who is now getting hundreds of requests on her private account. I have sort of decided to take a break from social media because the response has been overwhelming and like none before. Mostly positive but I think a few people have gotten the wrong idea so I was hoping to clear everything up.” Oscar rambled. He was more nervous about this interview than any he had done before.
“Of course. Why don’t we start at the beginning, how did you and your fiancée meet?”
“We actually met at one of my races. She went to support one of her close friend’s brothers. After the race that I sadly didn’t do too well in, I saw her with her friend and I was kinda frozen in my spot, immediately head over heels. Sadly, it seems like everyone but her noticed. I was too scared to do anything so I just watched her leave. I think I sulked for days, totally regretting my decision to do nothing. A totally heartbroken 16 year old. I looked for her every single race until she finally came back a few months later.”
“Oh please tell me you finally got the confidence to shoot your shot.”
“Nope! I just stared at her and stuttered when she caught me looking then ran off. I then had an amazing race, I think part of me was just trying to make up for the embarrassment and luckily it seems my car got the memo. After the race she came up to me and asked for my number.” God, he was blushing profusely at the memory. He knew he would be getting slack for this for a very long time. 
“Such a story! The young Oscar Piastri was no ladies’ man.”
“He was absolutely not. Soon after we started dating.” Oscar awkwardly laughed, sensing what was about to come up.
“And then kids came shortly after?” The interviewer asked with care in his voice, certainly able to sense Oscar’s change in attitude.
“Yeah. Uh, obviously not planned. I don’t think many people plan to become parent’s at 18. It was a shock… I didn’t handle it the best at first, something I think I will always regret. She was scared and while so was I, I should have been more supportive. I was embarrassed for a while. Felt like a total idiot. I didn’t tell anyone outside of my family and made them swear to secrecy. I also began to isolate myself from friends because I couldn’t bring myself to tell them but also felt terrible lying. A few months in I finally snapped myself out of it and began to focus on all the wonderfulness that was to come. I loved her more than anything and I would be lying if I said I hadn’t already imagined a life together in great detail. By the time we found out it was twins, a boy and a girl, I was ecstatic.”
“Well mate, I don’t blame you for your feelings. I definitely would have been a terrible father at 18 so I salute you.” The interviewer joked.
“Honestly, I had the same thought for a while, even when I was excited to have kids. I had so many doubts about it, I mean how could I not? But when it came down to it, I couldn’t afford to be anything less than a great father. Of course I had my moments, and still do years later, but I wouldn’t be able to let myself be anything less than I am. If you love your kids enough, you find a way.”
“How did having kids so young impact your career? Obviously it didn’t hurt it too much considering you are in your second year driving in Formula 1.”
“Well, I decided I wouldn’t advertise my situation unless a team was very serious about me. Prema knew, Alpine did too and of course McLaren does. All were welcoming and accommodating, as much as they could be. I don’t think I would have gone with any of them if they weren’t cool with it though. I realized the minute my kids were born I would give it all up for them, which scared the hell out of me.”
“That is admirable. All these years later you are still with their mother, correct?”
“Yes! I asked her to marry me over break. Everyone close to us had been confused as to why it took so long but we had discussed marriage together many times and made the decision that because our relationship moved so fast with having kids so young, we would wait a bit. I mean, we are still young but I honestly couldn’t wait any longer. She is everything to me and the most wonderful mother my kids could have.”
“Have your kids been around the paddock yet? I assume they are old enough to understand what you do.”
“They have been to the factory and come with me to meetings when we haven’t had a sitter for them. Luckily, they are both very well behaved in public, they also really like watching the races on tv and have somewhat of an understanding of what I do. They don’t believe I actually drive the car though.” Oscar rumbled. Trying to convince his twins that yes, their father actually does drive the cars they see going super fast, has been an ongoing issue. They seem to believe he is tricking them but have no problem believing Uncle Logan and Uncle Lando drive the cars. It has definitely humbled him immensely.
“Well you will have to fix that soon huh? Will they be attending races in the future?”
“I am trying to work that out with my fiancée actually. They are almost four so we don’t want them traveling too far, I also don’t believe they will be able to be entertained solely by the race the entire time so we have a lot to deal with. But I think seeing them on the paddock supporting me will be one of the best moments of my life. I selfishly can’t wait for them to come.”
The interview wrapped up shortly after that. Getting to reminisce on the start of his relationship and how far they have come and how many wonderful things are in the future put Oscar in a deliriously happy mood. He couldn’t wait to get home to his family. 
Walking through the door, he was immediately welcomed to the sound of toddler meltdowns. Fully entering the house, he saw his very tired fiancée rubbing her face as she tried to calm her babies down. Clearly this had been going on for a while.
Despite how upset she looked, she immediately perked up at seeing Oscar had returned. But that immediately went away as she remembered the screaming kids and how messy the house and herself were.
“Sorry honey, I know you are probably so tired after the interview and meetings earlier and these two missed their nap so they are so cranky and I just-” He cut her off with a kiss. Once he pulled away she looked at him, perplexed. A kiss from Oscar was never unwelcome but it was the last thing she expected at that moment.
“Hey, look at me.” He said as he put a hand on her cheek. “I love you and our little family so much and you never, ever have to apologize for something as trivial as this. Why don’t you go get in the bath and relax a little and I will try to wrangle these two, okay?” 
In her eyes, Oscar had never been hotter than he was now. Now it was her turn to surprise him with a kiss, even more passionate than the first. They would have continued if it hadn’t been for more screaming from their two kids.
Still, Oscar wouldn’t change a thing.
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avis-writeshq · 2 months
Note
Hi! Can I request track one? :)
Spencer Reid being so shy to ask Fem! Reader out so Morgan flirts with them to push him to do it?:(
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pairing: early seasons!spencer reid x bau!fem!reader genre: friends to lovers warnings: not proof read :( a/n: thank you for requesting lovely <3 wc: 700
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Spencer isn’t entirely sure why he’s so upset. He’s got his lips drawn to a pout and his eyes are set on the computer in front of him. He chalks it up to the fact that his contact lenses have been drying out. That must be it.
“Stare any harder and you’ll break the screen.”
You’re giggling at his unhappiness, but he doesn’t feel an ounce of annoyance. In moments you’re placing a steaming cup of tea onto his desk with a tiny pitcher of milk, before swiping a few of his files off his pile. 
“You don’t–”
“Hush, Spencer. You probably have filled more overtime hours in the past week than I have in the last four years. Let me take these off of you, okay?” You smile at him before leaning down to murmur into his ear, “They’re probably Morgan’s anyway, so don’t worry about it.”
Spencer flushes, his cheeks warming to a pretty pink at your closeness and he can smell your vanilla perfume. Every thought in his brain vanishes and he’s pretty sure that he won’t be able to think for the next hour or so. His mouth opens and closes like a broken hinge and you walk away to sit at your own desk. 
“When’s the wedding?” Derek asks through a snicker, reaching a hand out and ruffling Spencer’s already unkempt hair. 
“Wh– stop,” Spencer manages weakly, pushing his bangs out of the way and huffing. “Keep your voice down.”
“Didn’t you say that you wanted to ask her to see that Russian film festival or something?” Derek asks, unrelenting. He gestures to the two tickets poking out of one of Spencer’s book. “You already bought them?”
“I won them,” he corrects, scowling. “Stop laughing!”
“Dude, you have to ask her out,” Derek tries again. “Kid, I’m serious. A girl like that isn’t going to wait around forever.”
Spencer’s annoyance is quick to dissipate into flusteredness, and he avoids his friend’s gaze. “She shouldn’t have to.”
“Come on, don’t beat yourself up. Just go talk to her.”
His efforts are in vain as Spencer huffs again and turns back to his paperwork. Morgan shrugs, flexing his arms. It’s far too early to be dealing with Spencer’s shyness and pining. Morgan watches as he sneaks yet another look in your direction, and it takes a lot in him to not throw the two of you together. Emily keeps reminding him to be patient. Penelope keeps informing him that ‘they’ll get together in their own time’. Hotch would spare him a stern look. 
They’re not in the room, though.
“Hey, pretty girl.”
Morgan’s call out is enough for you to raise your head and for Spencer’s face to morph into look of genuine betrayal. He’s frantically moving his hand across his neck as a very obvious sign to cut it out. Morgan pays him no mind.
“What’s up?” You ask brightly, finishing your sentence before turning to look at him. “Did you need something?”
“You’re looking particularly gorgeous today, you know that?” Derek wears a lazy smirk as he looks at you up and down, and you only manage to laugh.
“Ha ha.” You roll your eyes, glancing briefly at Spencer who could have been mistaken for a cherry. “What are you playing at, Morgan?”
The man claps his hands together, rubbing his palms. “Are you free tomorrow night? I’ve got a bottle of wine that has our names on it.”
Spencer looks aghast. He recalls the information on the tickets he had won, and– tomorrow night. That’s when the film festival is happening. 
“She doesn’t drink,” Spencer butts in before you can respond, snatching the tickets from the inside of his book and getting up from his seat to make his way over to you. “I was um– I’ve got these tickets for a film festival tomorrow. It’s in Russian, but I can whisper the translations to you so you understand. You don’t– you don’t have to go. I know it might not be your thing–”
“I’d love to go, Spence.” You smile at him, plucking one of the tickets from his hands. “A whole evening with you? Who wouldn’t enjoy that? Sorry, Derek.”
Derek raises his hands in surrender, and when you aren’t looking, shoots Spencer a thumbs up. Penelope would be proud. 
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reblogs are always appreciated !
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luvth0t · 3 months
Text
RIDICULOUS ━ L.N
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in which lando can longer cope with you laughing at the mere idea of being with him, and you realise it wouldn’t be that ridiculous. but it may be all too late.
warnings; nswf, smut, unprotected sex, friends to lovers, lando in the friend zone, implied that reader is a year or two older than lando, little bit of angst, choking, soft dom!lando, silly reader, overstimulation i guess, lotta praise, oral, fluff at the end if you squint
lando was infatuated the moment he met you.
it took a while to realise how strongly he felt, considering he met you at arguably the most chaotic time of his life.
his first year in f1, carlos his teammate; meaning you were around every race from the start, to this day.
he wanted his own photographer after a mere few interactions with you, but quickly realised he only cared about photos because you were the one occasionally taking them.
carlos signing for ferrari meant lando was losing two people; his teammate and you. his friend.
he’d jokingly asked you to jump ship, work for him instead. if only you knew how serious he was being.
you never looked at lando the way he looked at you. he was like a friends annoying little brother, one you couldn’t help but pity and adore.
he made you laugh, was fun to be around. a change from the personality’s you would come across in the paddock. it was no shock to you that carlos built a bond with him ━ as did you.
since joining ferarri you didn’t see the brit as much as you’d like, not that carlos’ new teammate was a let down. charles was lovely. you didn’t feel invasive taking shots of the pair of them.
but you still kept it touch. occasional group outings, dinners and celebrations. you weren’t oblivious to the way he always made time for you. but you were naive to the deeper meanings.
his flirtations were nothing of concern, to you it was a running joke. amongst many of you; you didn’t think lando actually wanted anything from you beyond platonic.
he could handle rejection. but being laughed at? he could only cope for so long.
“he begged me to invite you tonight,” carlos’ words were teasing, directed towards you yet his eyes rested on lando; out for dinner with a few other team members from mclaren carlos hadn’t caught up with in a while.
melbourne was one of your favourite races for this very reason, having to get here so early meant you had time to catch up with those in the paddock away from the craziness.
lando’s eyes lifted from the menu he was reading; scoffing immediately, already prepared to jump on the defence ━ not giving you a chance to speak.
“i was making sure you hadn’t forgotten anyone, y/n included.” lando corrected, flashing you a grin in the midst of his explanation, one you mirrored.
“i’d like to think my presence would be a given,” you huffed back at carlos; and lando felt a fool for allowing his heart to jump at the prospect of you also defending him.
“of course it is. just saying, lando was set on making sure you’d be here.” carlos smirked; eyes now on his own menu, pretending as if he wasn’t attempting to stir the pot.
“he misses you,” an engineer spoke up from besides lando, nudging the british driver who could only roll his eyes; not at all unfamiliar with being targeted with such banter. he copped it a lot worse when you were all on the same team.
“mhm, misses me. not carlos.” you grinned; practically bragged ━ nudging carlos this time; you’d grown a talent it seemed for redirecting the topic of conversation. trying too at least, and the way lando smirked made it clear he appreciated your efforts.
he’d nodded as well, confirming your words. in no way ashamed to admit he missed you more than the spaniard, while it didn’t seem like there was any truth to his words with the playful smile on his face; the assumption couldn’t be any closer to the truth.
“if you miss her so much you should go out for dinner just the pair of you,” carlos challenged quickly; earning an eye roll from yourself and a small giggle at the idea ━ oh the shit show that would be, you and lando out for dinner. you could read the headlines now.
lando caught the way you laughed, you however missed the way his eyes snapped to you in the moment. the way his smile faltered, merely from watching you completely dismiss and laugh at the idea of spending just a single dinner with him alone. what’s so funny about that? could it really be the most absurd idea? no matter how many times you reacted in such a way it always stung.
he recovered almost instantly however, like he always does.
“wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings, know you don’t like to be left out.” lando mused; earning another laugh from you ━ one that was music to his ears, hearing you laugh at his jokes was always enough to have him holding his chin a little higher.
“oh i’d be more than happy to see you finally get out of the friend zone.” carlos regretted his words the moment they left his mouth, catching the way lando’s smile fell and jaw tensed ━ quickly realising his teasing may have gone too far.
your lack of reaction killed lando more than carlos’ words did, the way you barely battered an eyelash ━ completely unbothered while he sat here trying to not pop a blood vessel. he wanted to defend the relationship or friendship you had, but there wasn’t much to defend.
because carlos was right, he was painfully stuck in the friend zone.
“how much longer till you realise these jokes got old two years ago?” you sounded awfully unbothered as your gaze remained on your menu, only looking up when another engineer spoke up.
“it’s just a joke?” he’d asked in full seriousness, eyes flickering between yourself and lando. he wasn’t on carlos’ side of the garage, always working on lando’s side. he barely interacted with you; only heard things through the grapevine.
“obviously.” you spoke as if it was…obvious, and the laugh you let out would’ve softened the blow of your words had lando not already heard this a thousand times.
“ah, ah, ah. don’t forget about silverstone.” carlos simply couldn’t keep his mouth shut; bringing up the night where everyone was convinced you and lando spent the night together.
which would be valid if you actually had, but you hadn’t. you went home together purely because you both were tired. he dropped you at your hotel room, didn’t even come inside. somehow no one believed either of you when you squashed their suspicions that ‘lando’s wish had finally come true.’
“don’t be ridiculous.” you scoffed, shaking your head ever so slightly. lando’s silence would’ve been deafening if others weren’t jumping in to speak, and maybe you would’ve noticed his lack of input if you spared him a glance.
he was managing to muster a fake smile, it was almost painful. any amusement he was clinging too had vanished, wanting the conversation to be over with.
“it’s not ridiculous.” carlos huffed; and lando almost wanted to nod in agreement. thank him even. because it wasn’t ridiculous, he didn’t think so at least. it made sense to him. you made so much sense to him.
“it is.” the nail in the coffin, lando couldn’t keep smiling anymore. you sounded oh so certain, all the while the smile hadn’t left your face. “come on now,” you added in exaggeration at carlos’ unconvinced face.
lando wasn’t sure what you said next, he didn’t want to hear it. he couldn’t figure out why hearing all of this was suddenly unbearable, but before he knew it he was not so subtlety excusing himself ━ something about getting another drink, before standing up and bee lining to the bar.
the abrupt departure didn’t halt anyone else’s movements, conversations continuing and carlos joining in a debate with his cousin and his old mclaren press officer; while your attention got stuck on lando’s full glass ahead of you.
he didn’t need another drink.
you watched as he weaved through the crowds, the way he failed to smile at anyone he passed by; the tension clear in his jaw; it almost appeared as if he was scowling.
it was funny, because your first thought was if you offended him. but you couldn’t figure out what possibly could have; it was laughable how unaware you were of his feelings.
“i’ll be back,” you excused yourself, standing up and following in lando’s directions without any hesitance; a slight frown on your face as you dodged people left and right to get to the bar.
you weren’t sure why the prospect of upsetting him upset you so much, but the sudden urgency to check on him was too powerful to ignore.
“rude to not offer a girl a drink you know?”
lando’s eyes only shifted towards you for a mere couple of seconds when you made your presence known. he could count on one hand the amount of times he wished to be alone when you were near, but this was one of them.
he was drained, unable to fake any more smiles or shrug off any more comments. blame it on the jet lag.
“apologises,” he hummed; not offering you another glance which had your suspicions confirmed, your furrowed brow showing concern not that he could see. his blue eyes were focused ahead on the busy bartender.
“you good?” you internally cringed as the words left your lips, unable to figure out a way to address the sudden mood without sounding overbearing or overstepping.
you watched as his shoulders tensed; as his eyes strategically continued to avoid you, only making the pit in your stomach feel deeper, as if it could swallow you whole.
“peachy.” his sarcasm was clear, and while it would usually be a relief it wasn’t laced with the usual humour. it was blunt, dismissive ━ and if you had any doubts left about being the reason for him running off, they were now squashed.
“did i say something━ did carlos say something?” the questions stumbled out of your lips in concern, biting down on the inside of your cheek. “i’ve tried to tell him to lay off with the jokes, it’s stupid i know.” you began to ramble.
lando finally let his gaze land on you, and the sight of your sympathetic eyes and worried frown had him feeling guilty. which was ridiculous, but suddenly he felt an urge to reassure you he was fine. that you hadn’t said anything.
but you had.
“it’s not the jokes,” lando cut you off; hands running over his head, even letting out a laugh at how pathetic he sounded. he was going to continue, explain it further; but he stopped himself.
he couldn’t. it was a can of worms that must remain shut.
you stood in silence for a moment, under the impression he’d keep speaking. but he didn’t. leaving you with no explanation; just further confusion.
“no?” you hummed; eyebrows raising. “because i totally get if it is. it’s ridiculous how they keep going on━” you were rambling again, trying to make the situation better. attempting to ensure he felt heard, that he could speak to you about what was bothering him.
so oblivious to the fact you were just digging yourself a deeper hole.
there was that word again; ridiculous.
“is it? is it really that ridiculous?” lando couldn’t stop the question from flying out of his mouth; only now turning to properly face you; in time to catch the dumbfounded look on your face from his question.
it took a few moments to try understand what he meant, coming up short as you stared at him clueless, lips parting to try come up with something to say but falling short.
“is what?” you mumbled, suddenly all confidence was gone. almost scared to hear the answer; purely because you recognised the doubt and regret illustrating his face.
but lando had nothing else to lose, you’ve rejected him in front of everyone else without realising. what’s once more?
“us. dinner us two, having gone home together in silverstone. this?” lando sighed out like it was obvious, hands waving between the pair of you.
because to him it was so obvious. the amount of times he’s almost asked you to join him for a meal, just the pair of you.
maybe if he had you’d see what he saw.
silverstone meant so much to him, having expected nothing from you but he thought about the taxi ride back to the hotel more than he’d like to admit. he could’ve sworn you’d been flirting with him that night.
he even thought it would’ve been the start of something.
optimism was a curse however, because stupidly lando thought perhaps after finally expressing his feelings that maybe you’d reveal your hidden reciprocation. that maybe you were scared like him.
but instead all he could see was shock. and confusion. and fuck, was that sympathy?
“what?” it was a weak response, but all you could muster. you were attempting to find any other explanation for his words, to figure out what he could be implying.
lando had to laugh, shaking his head as he faced the bar again; hands running over his face as you quickly realised he was being fully serious.
“it’s not━ we’ve never━ i mean it would be weird.” word vomit, you didn’t know what you were saying; usually so careful with your words you knew the moment lando looked at you in shock and offence you’d be haunted by that very sentence. “not weird━ but,” you attempted to fix your mistake, eyes screwing shut.
another laugh from him beat you to it however.
“ridiculous. i got it,” lando spoke through a breath, sounding incredibly defeated which had your stomach dropping.
you struggled to find words to assure him, still attempting to process what he’d just told you. you hadn’t ever looked at him in that way. he was always just… lando.
“lando…” you trailed off with a frown, only now starting to realise the position you both were now in.
the awkward tension was growing quickly and you’d never despised something so quickly. you refused to let this be the bitter end to your friendship.
“it’s fine. just drop it.” lando huffed, standing up straight; eyes finding yours once more. he didn’t want you to feel bad, he’d accepted long ago that his chances of you feeling the same were slim.
you can’t apologise for how you feel.
“no we should talk about it,” you disagreed, so much concern and care in your eyes it almost made him sick. he didn’t need that from you. and the last thing he wanted to do was talk about how he’d spent years pining over you.
he’d kept it secret for a reason, to avoid this.
“i’ll pass,” lando hummed; the half smile he mustered up did little to comfort you as he licked his bottom lip and glanced around the room. “i’m gonna head up,” he cleared his throat.
you’d gone to express your dismay with such thing, but he was walking off before you could get another word out; left alone at the bar dumbfounded and suddenly in need of a drink.
it would be quite sad to admit that one revelation could change your whole weekend. but it did.
you’ve never had trouble sleeping, in fact the jet lag usually knocked you out. yet you’d spent the best of your time in melbourne thinking through every word lando said. looking back on every damn interaction the two of you shared.
you felt like an idiot. because suddenly it made a lot of sense, what you failed to realise in the moment fell together piece by piece.
an insight into his intentions for the effort he’d put into the friendship over the last couple years was eye opening, and while you were unsure as to how you hadn’t assumed such thing sooner, you found yourself asking the question how it made you feel.
you’d be lying if you didn’t have a few moments of giddiness as you recounted certain times. how he drove you home from pre-season testing one time because you didn’t feel well. how he always got you flowers for your birthday.
suddenly your mind was consumed with the thought of lando every waking second. from the moment you entered the paddock on thursday you were looking for him. which didn’t make sense considering you had plans to avoid him.
you didn’t want to make things worse than they were. but for some reason he was the only thing on your mind, to the point it was becoming an issue as you tried to go about your work.
not once in your career had you been pulled up on anything, so when carlos questioned if you were okay friday afternoon ━ claiming you had been slacking, you knew you were fucked.
there’s no way you felt the same. surely not.
you had to stand by what you said. it’d be weird?
he was lando. annoying lando who couldn’t grow a speck of facial hair and flinched at the sight of fish.
except saturday, when you finally laid eyes on the driver again, it was cruel slap in the face of reality when you realised that was almost 5 years ago. you’d both changed. lando had changed.
you almost spiralled when you found yourself admiring the driver. had his mclaren top always been so tight around his biceps? had his skin always been so sun kissed? not to mention the way his curls sat atop his head.
you suddenly felt insane. you’d never looked at him in that light, never thought what if. but his confession had you a mess of thoughts, one’s you had to run away from. causing you to spend the rest of the weekend hidden away in ferrari’s hospitality.
you could only hide for so long, carlos had won ━ which was enough to get your mind off of the british driver for a whole 4 minutes until they were up on the podium together.
work was your priority however, but you couldn’t help but notice just how nicely lando photographs. you only ever focused on carlos, considering he paid your wage. but as you took shots and shots of the pair interacting before and after the podium from afar you couldn’t help but note how lando was practically glowing.
your head was a mess, and as you now stood in a random club in melbourne, you had no idea what your next move was.
you couldn’t exactly deny going out to celebrate when carlos had won. so your next wish was that lando simply wouldn’t be in attendance.
but he was, and your eyes hadn’t left him all night.
still having not spoken for days, you couldn’t shake the urge to congratulate him. yet for some reason you were scared, you didn’t trust yourself. fearing you’d say something you’d regret. which was a foreign feeling. lando was usually the easiest person for you to talk too.
however you could only stand in the corner with a drink as your only company for so long. a sudden wave of confidence washing over you, or more so desperation to stop being so childish, causing you to down your drink before setting off towards the british driver.
it was when you were only a few metres from him that you realised you should probably have a game plan, and if he hadn’t locked eyes with you there was a high chance you would’ve backed out. turned around and walked away.
instead you were left to improvise.
“good job today,” you smiled widely when you got into ear shot; unable to shake the tightness in your chest, feeling suddenly out of breath as if you had sprinted over here.
lando appeared much more relaxed than he had last time you spoke. which made sense. he’d put it on the podium, why wouldn’t he be in a good mood?
“thank you,” the driver grinned, unable to be stumped when he was still running high off adrenaline. plus, he figured you would pretend the other evening never happened. which he would happily take.
your script ended there however. you had no idea what to say. or where to look, since when was eye contact with lando hard?
“impressive from carlos,” lando managed to fill the silence, and you could feel the relief at the fact he’d saved you from creating an awkward silence.
“yeah, yeah i know. very proud of him. i’ll never complain about pain again.” you spoke through a dry laugh; one he mirrored, your lips pursing as you attempted to think of something, anything, to fix the mess you found you guys in.
to apologise for your rudeness? to explain your mindset? to just talk. you needed to talk to him, for your own sanity.
“look i just wanted━” you finally built the courage up to speak, but were interrupted as a blonde woman slid next to lando’s side, handing him a drink while doing so.
it shouldn’t have shut you up so quickly, but it did ━ eyebrows raising as you attempted to figure out how to respond to the image in front of you. one you’d never seen before actually.
“line was long,” the girl hummed in explanation, and you only just caught lando’s sorry eyes as his attention turned to the girl next to him.
he would be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate the lifeline that was the blonde he’d just met 20 minutes ago. he did not need to hear your reasonings as to why you should just remain friends, not tonight.
“i’ll um, i’ll talk to you later.” there was no way you’d try get your words out again, not when you barely spoke up the first time. yet for some reason, you’d hoped lando had insisted you could speak now.
instead left to watch as he nodded and offered you a small smile; practically sending you off on your way.
embarrassment was the one word to describe how you felt as you made your way to the nearest booth, attempting to hide away and let the darkness swallow you whole.
apart of you felt you should be grateful, maybe being interrupted was a saving grace. god knows what you were about to say, you definitely didn’t. but right now you found yourself in the same position as you were 5 minutes ago.
it felt selfish. lando had practically admitted to having feelings for you, that’s what you gathered at least, and you’d been unaware for years.
you’d been slightly uncertain in your feelings for five days and you felt as if you were losing your mind. you had no right for an explanation really, but you needed something. attempting to decipher everything to do with the main man of mclaren was giving you a headache.
although your vision became a bit clearer as you sat and watched him interact with the girl who’d placed the drink in his hands.
it suddenly made sense why you hadn’t seen him like this before. his attention was always on you, his efforts and time focused towards you if you were in arms reach.
which you couldn’t help but feel grateful for as you sat and watched your new personal hell.
you didn’t want to label it as jealousy. because that would be ridiculous, but it was beginning to be hard to watch the way lando whispered in her ear and grinned widely as he earned a laugh or two from the girl.
were you mad at the sight or mad at your own reaction? you weren’t sure. it felt wrong, to feel so strongly when only a few days ago you’d laughed in his face about the prospect of being with him.
what was it they said about you only want what you can’t have?
“it should be illegal for you to be sitting here moping after i’ve won.” carlos’ voice snapped you from your thoughts, being met with the driver who slid into the booth opposite you, a sheepish smile forming on your features.
“i’m not moping.” you huffed, leaning back in your seat ━ attempting to look and feel relaxed, allow your tense shoulders to loosen, glancing back to lando once more before your attention was on the driver ahead of you.
“you have been all week.” carlos disagreed, eyebrow raising as you frowned; not having a reply because he was right. and suddenly you felt horrible.
“i’m sorry━ that’s the last thing you need with the couple weeks you’ve had,” you sighed, head falling into your hands. it was as if you suddenly couldn’t do anything right.
you missed the way carlos smiled, having looked at the direct reason of your problems moments prior.
“don’t apologise.” carlos dismissed, assuring you it was fine; and when you peaked up through your hands, the smile he was flashing you was enough to put your mind at ease. “i’m assuming lando said something.”
there it was. lando. again. back in your head. as if you ever got him out.
you only sighed, head falling back this time as you now stared at the ceiling. of course carlos knew.
“you knew?” you huffed out, it clear you already knew the answer.
“everyone does.” carlos chuckled, and you wish you too could take amusement from the situation. how comforting, this whole time you’ve either appeared as an idiot or the biggest bitch.
“why wouldn’t you tell me?” you practically whined, looking back at the driver once more; watching as he put his hands up in defence and innocence.
“i thought you knew.” carlos claimed, sounding so honest you couldn’t question him ━ nor blame him. you shouldn’t have needed someone to spell it out for you. plus, you’re not sure what you would’ve done if you did know.
because it wasn’t like you were handling the current situation very well.
you had no answer, just left him to watch as you sat wallowing in self pity. you should’ve never chased him to the bar.
“he’ll be fine. look at him, moving on already,” carlos attempt to comfort you was more like a punch to the stomach ━ because you had to stop yourself from glaring at him. had to stop yourself from spitting out how that wasn’t what you wanted.
you didn’t want that at all, and that thought was suffocating. you were in no place to come to terms with your feelings, but right now they seemed to be demanding to make themselves known.
“i need air.” you huffed as you stood up, thankful that you had taken notice of the smokers exit not too far from you.
the crisp air felt like a soothing blanket, hitting your skin the moment you got outside. the balcony was empty and finally you felt as if you could breathe; allowing your arms to rest against the railing as the music became muffled and the sound of melbourne’s night life filled your ears.
it felt stupid, staring across the city skyline as if it would answer your questions. maybe the stars could align and write out a solution for you, tell you what to do.
but with every passing second you didn’t find any clarity or idea on what to do, how to feel. you shouldn’t want him. you haven’t wanted him before. it isn’t fair to suddenly feel so drawn to him after unknowingly rejecting him for so long.
but it was the reality. you’d been exposed to the idea of lando wanting you; and with every passing moment it became clear to you it wasn’t weird. it sounded fucking incredible.
the music suddenly filled your ears again, moments later becoming muffled as you became aware someone had joined you outside. it wasn’t till they spoke that you tensed up.
“it’s cold out here,” his voice was instantly recognisable, you didn’t need to look at him to know it was him.
“too hot in there.” you hummed simply in reply, feeling his presence next to you as he joined you in observing the city skyline; although you could feel his eyes burning into the side of your head.
falling into a comfortable silence was the last thing you expected, both too scared to speak up and face the inevitable. if you could stay like this forever you would. it was the first few moments of peace you’d known all week.
“we can pretend the other night never happened. i don’t want things to be weird.” lando spoke, words so soft as if you’d break. as if he needed to be careful with you.
his whole demeanour had you frowning, turning to face him. he shouldn’t be fixing this mess, nor prioritising your feelings over his. not when both of you had neglected his for so long.
you parted your lips to disagree, to tell him that was the last thing you wanted. you wanted to talk about it. it’s all you needed to do.
but quickly you realised that was contradicting your initial thoughts.
“if that’s what you want,” you spoke through a breath; unable to understand how you still couldn’t find the right thing to say when this very conversation has been the only thing on your mind all week.
it was lando’s turn to stay quiet, you watched as he thought through what to say; practically seeing his mind tick.
“i just want to know why it’s so ridiculous to you.” lando practically blurted the question out, as if he was almost afraid he wouldn’t say it ever if he didn’t now. it’d been weighing on his mind, it killed him that he had no explanation as to why you were so against the idea of him in anyway that branched further than platonic.
and while you wanted to give him an answer, you didn’t have one.
“i don’t know.” you answered truthfully. “i never looked at you that way lando i…” you trailed off, eyes getting lost in his when you realised just how close he was. your admiration these past couple days from afar was one thing; but up close was a whole new ball park. “you were like this little kid, i don’t know,” you struggled to articulate your thoughts.
“yeah five years ago,” lando’s response was quick and blunt; even with the chuckle that escaped under his breath, it didn’t lessen the intensity in his eyes that were now pouring into yours. it was as if he’d been wanting to say such thing for years. he was challenging you.
you’d gulped at his words, because he was right and you’d only come to terms with such thing these past few days.
“yeah.” you mumbled in agreement, suddenly feeling small under his gaze; it was all so new. you’d been in this position with lando countless of times, why did you suddenly feel as if every nerve inside of you was being set alight? why did you feel as if you couldn’t dare look away from his eyes.
you could spot the moment lando realised the change in your behaviour, the way his eyes flickered across your face; his lips parting ever so slightly as he took a breath.
he recognised the look on your face, purely because it’s how he would always look at you.
“it fucking sucked you know? having to sit there while you laugh at the idea of spending the night with me. even just going on a date with me.” lando hummed, voice barely above the whisper because with the minimal distance he didn’t need to speak any louder. although if he spoke any quieter you’d be worried you wouldn’t hear him over the sound of your rapid heartbeat.
you didn’t know what to say, head tilting aside ever so slightly as you watched him take a step closer; dangerously close now yet for some reason you found yourself leaning further towards his frame ━ and the moment you let your eyes flicker to his lips you knew you were done for.
“m’ sorry,” you mumbled; eyes pouring into his once more as if that would ensure he knew you meant it, but he didn’t want nor need an apology. but god would he love an opportunity to change your mind.
it was as if you could act without thinking again the moment his hand cupped your cheek, lips pressed onto yours in a rush that had your hand moving to find a grip in his shirt.
you didn’t know how to describe it, but suddenly everything made sense as your lips moved together in perfect sync.
the moment almost came crumbling down however when lando pulled away only a few moments later, heavy breaths as his hand remained on your cheek; eyes looking down at you as if you were gods greatest gift to earth.
but as much as this felt like heaven, lando knew he couldn’t risk this just being a one time thing. he refused to get a taste of you just to be starved again.
“if you don’t━” lando barely got his words out, you had him read; could see the doubt beginning to creep in. as much as he hated being vulnerable it was almost self perseveration.
thankfully however you didn’t give him much time to worry, shaking your head before tugging him closer to you ━ reconnecting your lips with such certainty lando had no room to fear or doubt you.
it was all he needed, the lid was off and he finally could act on his wants ━ hands moving to grip your waist as he trapped you between himself and the railing, lips moving against yours without a care in the world that anyone could walk out and see.
it was as if the kiss was the answer to all your questions, suddenly it all made sense. lando made sense; you felt stupid, how had you denied yourself of such thing for so long?
your hands were tangled in his hair, his were clutching your sides for dear life ━ large hands pawing at your waist then your hips, having to stop himself from getting too greedy and travelling any further.
so caught up in him you quickly realised you needed to breathe, pulling away momentarily; yet you had no time to recover as lando only busied himself with peppering kisses on your jaw.
naturally you tilted your head back, a sigh of content escaping you as you invited him to explore more of you. and lando was not going to ignore such thing, soft kisses now pressed to the skin of your neck.
suddenly you were incredibly aware of the closeness, the way his body was pressed against yours; the cold railing behind you doing little to cool your hot skin; his knee pressing between your thighs having your eyes fluttering shut.
heaven was the only way to describe it.
but really you were on the smokers balcony of a crowded melbourne club, a reality that hit the pair of you as the door swung open and laughter and chatter was suddenly heard.
your eyes flickered to the group who appeared, lando regrettably lifting his head and glancing over his shoulder. the group was unbothered by your presence, you weren’t sure the pair of you were even noticed.
lando’s grip had tightened on your waist ever so slightly, as if you could slip away from him like the moment had.
“we should get out of here,” you spoke through heavy breaths as your eyes met his, watching as his lit up with both relief and eagerness. he only nodded, taking a step backwards as his hands ran over his now crinkled shirt.
the pair of you may had gotten yourselves together in those few seconds, but as you worked your way through the crowded club towards the exit, it was quite clear what had occurred.
the elevator ride only caused swollen lips and messy hair, and you struggled to keep your hands off of him once in the back of a taxi ━ kissing him was addictive, that’s the only thing you could think of right now.
the silence wasn’t awkward as you stumbled into his hotel room; only the sounds of quiet laughter as he struggled to find his room key. small curses escaping his mouth as he failed to move in the urgency he was currently feeling.
it was messy the way you both discarded your shoes and belongings, a few words and mumbles exchanged before he was tugging you into his chest again ━ lips once more reconnected.
the space allowed you to wrap your arms around his neck this time, body practically melting into his hold. you wanted to apologise again, explain your thoughts over the last few days, how your change of heart had occurred.
you weren’t even sure it was a change of heart; more so just now thinking about new possibilities.
but lando seemed to be the thing that could put those thoughts at bay, finally your mind was silent ━ all senses consumed with the man in front of you.
you weren’t sure which wall he’d backed you against but you didn’t care; welcoming the familiar feeling of his lips on your neck once more ━ taking the few seconds of your brain not being foggy to tug on the end of his shirt before trying to push it up his body.
he got the memo, ridding himself of his shirt and you could feel your breath get caught in your throat at the sight of his toned torso.
“what do you want?” lando’s question was matched with an intensity that almost had you squirming, his knee pushing between your thighs once more as you peered up at him.
you were suddenly lost for words, unsure how to vocalise what you wanted.
him. just him. anything he had to offer.
the feeling of his finger running up the side of your leg gave you plenty of ideas; but you were too flustered to articulate such thing.
the sight of you dumbfounded had him letting out a breathy chuckle, eyebrows raising in expectance ━ yet somehow it just had you squeezing your legs together.
“anything.” you mumbled, cheeks a tint of pink as he only smirked at your answer; you hadn’t realised how desperate you sounded. you weren’t sure you’ve ever sounded so needy.
“gotta be more specific pretty,” his grin told you he was revelling in your flustered state. how could he not? his mind was running wild with plans to have you a needy mess all for him.
the term of endearment was new, a boundary that had never been crossed in your friendship; yet it sounded so natural. what wasn’t natural was the way your heart seemed to flutter at the compliment.
“want me to touch you?” lando was almost mocking you as his hand moved to push your hair back out of your face, cupping the side of your head while doing so to ensure your eyes stayed trained on him ━ and the mere act had you falling further into submission.
it was pathetic, you were somehow able to identify such thing ━ standing here with parted lips and wide eyes, having nodded at his words almost too eagerly. you needed to control yourself, at least for now; he’d barely touched you yet.
“what do you want?” your words were no where near as confident as his, but you weren’t complaining; the confidence suited him, it only had you wanting him more.
you watched as his shoulders lifted in a slight shrug, attempting to keep your mind off his finger that was dangerously close to the hem of your skirt.
“want to ruin you so you’ll only ever think of me if another man touches you.” lando was honest with his answer, you hadn’t expected such words to escape his mouth. such bluntness, what sounded like a promise had your knees feeling weak ━ the idea sounding perfect to you.
but he wasn’t finished.
“want you to cum on my fingers.” he added quietly, your legs spreading ever so slightly as his hand finally ventured under your skirt. “then my tongue,” he practically chimed; head ducking down to your neck now, his hot breath fanning your skin.
thinking was only getting harder, his words were turning your mind into a puddle, much like the state of your undergarments.
“then my cock.” he concluded before paying extra attention to the skin on your neck, kissing intently as you let out a shaky breath.
attempting to process such words from him was difficult, but you were quick to figure out it sounded incredible to you.
“hm?” his hum was a taunt, head lifting to look at you once more, watching as you nodded quickly.
“please,” you practically whimpered, god you’d get on your knees and beg. lando almost groaned from the word leaving your lips alone, the way you were looking up at him with doe eyes had a grin forming on his face, one you mirrored for a brief moment.
the man couldn’t believe his eyes, a sight he’d dream of too many times was in front of him in the flesh and he wanted nothing more but to make sure you too would never forget these moments.
his lips returning to yours almost had you failing to notice the way his hand slipped under your skirt, finding your soaked panties with ease. he groaned into your mouth as he realised how wet you were, your only reply a slight tug on his curls.
light and teasing touches were only tolerable for so long, you could deal with his fingers dancing around your clothed folds while his lips stayed on yours ━ but when he pulled away your breaths became irregular, clinging to every ounce of patience you had.
you were about to whine when his hand pushed your panties to the side, slipping a digit inside of you without warning was enough to have you choking out a moan ━ hand flying to grip his bicep to ensure your legs wouldn’t give out on you.
lando was watching you as if you were gods gift to the earth, thumb settling on your clit naturally that within seconds of him getting to work your eyes were fluttering shut ━ head falling back against the wall.
“you’re soaked baby,” his words were barely audible; too in awe of you, but you still managed to catch them as you nodded ever so slightly.
“for you,” you breathed out ━ not that it needed clarifying, but the reassurance had the driver smirking proudly, even rewarding you as suddenly a second finger slipped inside of you.
for him. lando would never had thought that would ever be possible. if he wasn’t so focused on getting you off he’d be replaying those words in his mind again, and again.
suddenly it was becoming hard to keep quiet, strings of moans and whimpers escaping you in succession, causing lando’s pants to feel incredibly tight. but that was the last thing on his mind, holding you against the wall with the only goal of having you come undone in his grasp.
his name sounded heavenly as you moaned it, so much so lando thought no one else should ever speak it again ━ nothing would compare to that.
“look at me.” lando’s demand was so calm you almost missed it, eyes still fluttered shut as your thighs squeezed around his hand. despite hearing him you couldn’t act, control of your body slipping away ever so quickly with the way his thumb was circling your sensitive bud.
lando’s breathy laugh wasn’t enough to capture your attention either, his touch was all your mind could focus on. so it was when his free large hand trailed up your body to wrap around your neck that your eyes fluttered open.
his eyes were inquisitive, clearly attempting to gage a reaction to the action which had your lips parting despite having no pressure applied. however it was the way you clenched around his fingers that told him enough.
the slight squeeze of your neck was enough to draw a moan out of you, and lando could only hum in content. you were fucking perfect.
it was quickly becoming overwhelming, pleasure suddenly building so quickly ━ eyes pouring into his as you struggled to form words.
“close,” was all you managed out; lando’s nod was in sync with his curled fingers ━ your nails digging into his skin as he brushed the spot that had your legs almost giving out.
you were holding onto him for dear life, moans growing louder and whinier as your vision started to become starry despite having your eyes open.
“let go baby,” his words were enough to push you over the edge, releasing onto his fingers as you practically panted his name like it was a prayer.
lando had concluded a long time ago that he couldn’t fall for you more than he already had; but as he watched you come undone, he realised he’d been wrong. your beauty truly knew no ends ━ and he was only now more eager to watch your face contort in pleasure again and again.
admiration filled your own eyes as they opened once more to peer up at him, flushed cheeks and a sheepish smile spreading on your face as you attempted to catch your breath.
“you’re incredible,” lando couldn’t stop the praise from escaping him, and watching the way your smile grew had him feeling no regret either; no shame like he usually would when a compliment perhaps too sentimental slipped passed his guard.
however this time it was reciprocated, you could see the meaning behind it ━ not dismissing it as a friendly comment, instead it had your already flushed cheeks reddening further.
“you are.” you spoke like it was obvious, even letting out a small giggle ━ sounding somewhat out of breath but such thing was granted. your arms moved to wrap around his neck again, both to ensure he stayed close and because your only strength was in your arms.
your legs already felt like jelly.
he’d read the situation with ease, because suddenly his hands were hooked under your thighs ━ halting you up as your legs instinctively wrapped around his torso.
your skirt was bunched at your hips, ruined panties almost shameful. your hands spread out against his toned back, unable to help yourself from feeling as much of his flexed muscles as possible.
messy kisses were exchanged as he moved you through the hotel room, lips lazily moving against each other before your back was hitting his plush mattress.
the sight above you rendered you speechless, no shame in your eyes raking over his frame as he stood at the foot of the bed ━ you quickly felt overdressed.
your own hands found the hem of your shirt, peeling it off your body, no bra meaning your upper body was exposed to the brit.
you could visibly see him gulp, his eyes dancing over your half naked frame as he took a few deep breaths; tongue flicking over his bottom lip. the man even shook his head in disbelief, unable to help himself when you invitingly leant back on your elbows.
he was on top of you within moments, situating between your spread legs as his head found the exposed skin of your chest, open mouth kisses pressed to your neck, slowly making their way to your breasts.
“you’re fucking beautiful.” he’d practically grumbled, your fingers finding his curls once more you could only whimper as his teeth tugged on your skin momentarily.
“want to make you feel good,” you whispered, unable to ignore his hard on pressing into your hip ━ the feeling had you squirming, keen to feel more of him.
he’d shushed you however, not being derailed as his kisses moved to your stomach now, your head hitting the pillow as you tried to control your breathing ━ left to stare up at the ceiling momentarily.
“i feel amazing,” lando spoke matter of factly, his hands spreading over your thighs as he parted them to his liking ━ your eyes flickering down, not expecting to meet his blue ones.
he looked like he was ready to devour you, it made your core practically ache ━ offered no relief as your legs could only squeeze against his hold.
he was quick in removing your skirt, and your panties ━ having you bare for him before he was hooking your legs over his shoulders. but his urgency seemed to still there, kisses pressed to your inner thighs instead of your glistening cunt.
“lando,” you’d whined, using all your strength to ensure you could keep your eyes on him, a pretty sight that was rendering you impatient. “please,” the plea left you in desperation.
you could still feel his breath on your thighs, not where you needed him, and when you heard him chuckle lowly your eyes had to press shut to keep your composure.
“oh baby,” he dragged out; cooing so sweetly your eyes narrowed when they met his again. “needy little thing,” he commented; quirking an eyebrow your way and you couldn’t argue, only pout.
he wasn’t wrong, much to your surprise. you’d never found yourself in such position, needing and craving someone so badly. depending on someone else for pleasure was practically foreign.
“not gonna make you beg,” lando ended your torture, if you could even call it that, mouth connecting with your cunt and your jaw dropped as his tongue quickly found your clit.
you were already sensitive, back arching immediately as you moaned out softly ━ hands flying to find his curls again.
pure ecstasy was the only way to describe the feeling, his tongue working so perfectly that you were fighting to not press your thighs against his head ━ body moving with every action, his hand moving to press down on your hips and keep you in place.
your eyes caught his own for a mere few moments, seeing him look up at you however had your own eyes rolling back; too sensitive to stay cool with the onslaught of pleasure.
he was everywhere, consuming every one of your senses ━ tugging on his curls your only outlet as you moaned and shook.
you weren’t ever sure you’d be able to cum from head alone, but you were about to find out ━ pathetically close already, stomach tightening having barely recovered from your first orgasm.
you forced yourself to gaze down at him again, wanting to see his head between your thighs ━ watch the way his arms flexed as he held you in place with ease.
his tongue was flicking between your folds, then paying attention to your clit; never missing a beat, it flood over you suddenly.
you could no longer hear the sounds you were making as you came again, back arching off the bed once more ━ seeing stars, lando sure to catch the sight as you came undone for him again.
it was a blur the next few moments, not present as lando shifted your legs off of his shoulders and back onto his knees, but once you realised the sight in front of you it didn’t take long for you to push yourself up the bed so you were sitting up.
“you good?” lando’s voice was soft now, ensuring you were okay; not oblivious to your tired body. you nodded however, a lazy smile spreading on your lips in reassurance, hooded eyes taking him all in. you just wanted to feel all of him.
“perfect,” you breathed, leaning forward to connect your lips without another word. it was greedy, a few moments of no contact and you were drawn to him again. you just wanted more and more, and the way lando’s hands flied to your waist showed it was truly reciprocated.
you pushed him slightly to sit down, switching positions so he was resting against the headboard now ━ it didn’t take much force, he was letting you guide him, hands delicately roaming your fatigued frame.
climbing into his lap your hands made quick work of his pants, unzipping them and moving all material out of the way to finally free his hardened cock.
lando moaned into your mouth the moment your hand wrapped around his length, pumping a few times was the relief he’d been ignoring since you entered the hotel room.
he struggled to kiss back for a mere moment, causing your eyes to flutter open, lips curving upwards at the sight of his face contorted in pleasure.
fuck you could get used to that image.
“come on baby,” lando rasped out as his hands found a home on your hips ━ guiding them upwards ever so slightly. “fuck yourself on my cock yeah?” there was a slight smugness in his tone; the type that had you falling into submission once more, despite him vocalising your plans.
your arms moved to hold onto his shoulders, enough to help steady you as you guided your hips on top of his, lowering yourself down onto his cock.
the pair of you gasped in sync, your forehead resting against his as you took him all in at once, jaw going slack from the stretch.
you stilled, needing time to adjust to his size ━ and lando had no complaints, the feeling of you wrapped around him having him content.
“you feel fucking incredible,” the driver rasped, lips brushing against yours as he spoke; and you could only whimper at first, a few deep breaths escaping you.
“so big,” you mumbled; having to swallow intently before mustering the energy to begin moving ━ eyes pouring into his as you began to ride him.
the closeness and intimacy would usually scare you; heck, it would normally terrify him. yet somehow it felt right, as if this wasn’t the first time between the pair of you.
your nails dug into his skin once more as you shifted up and down, lando’s hands only on your skin to ensure he had a hold on you ━ letting you set the pace as he watched, jaw tense and eyes adoring.
“fuck lando,” you whined when he’d bottom out once more, hitting a spot so deep inside of you that your toes were curling ━ the sound of his own grunts and moans only adding to the pleasure.
“doing so good for me gorgeous,” his praise only encouraged you, words so delicate. you sped up as much as you could, not too fast but with more urgency than before; as much as your sore body would allow.
it wasn’t long before you started to tire, your moans grew whinier but you didn’t need to say anything ━ a choked moan escaping your throat when his hips suddenly thrusted up to meet your movements.
you hadn’t thought you could feel more full but you were wrong, and lando didn’t relent as he started fucking up into you.
you were like a doll in his hands, as he started to practically move you up and down his cock; his own hips continuing to thrust up you couldn’t keep up, eyes screwing shut as your mouth fell agape.
“fuck lando fuck,” you were practically chanting; a string of curses and his name; it all felt too good. fucking perfect, you couldn’t comprehend any of it.
“take it baby.” he grunted, and you nodded so quickly as if you’d ever disappoint him, fingers reaching to his back and nails dragging across the skin ━ his thrusts harsh, not slow but not too quick that you wouldn’t have time to feel every inch of him.
your head was thrown back, exposing your bare chest further to him ━ which lando made the most of for the time being, lips ducking down and attaching to one of your nipples for a few moments.
but as your sounds got louder he needed to be able to see your face clearly, hand moving up your back and tangling in your hair to force you to look at him.
“open your eyes princess,” he practically demanded, and at this point you’d do anything he said without question; eyes fluttering open to look at him.
his stamina was impressive, not surprising, still bouncing you on his cock as if it was nothing ━ but the way his breaths got shaky and his hooded eyes revealed he was feeling the pleasure like you were.
“who’s making you feel this good?” lando’s question escaped him without much thought; he just needed to hear you say it. wanted to revel in the fact he had you in such a state. your praise and reassurance held such a high value to him.
“you, lando, you,” you whined out in response ━ and you felt his hand move back to your hip, needing to use your own strength now to keep your head upright. “feels so good,” you told him ━ squeezing him as you did so.
he’d groaned at the feeling, almost having cum on the spot; thankfully he didn’t, because he needed to see you fall apart one more time.
“want to cum again yeah? that you want?” his mouth seemed to know no ends, the taunting only making your stomach grow tighter as you nodded to the best of your ability.
his breaths were heavy now, hands travelling to your ass as he used that as his grip of your body instead.
“wanna hear you say it,” lando grumbled ━ head ducking into the exposed skin of your neck, more kisses pressed onto your skin and the thought of marks being there from the amount of attention he’d paid to it was the last thing on either of your minds.
you were struggling now, too fucked out to process his words as quickly as he’d like ━ so much so a harsher thrust upwards had you aware you needed to answer him, yet you already forgot what he said.
“too fucked out to form words baby?” lando teased now that he knew he had your attention; and he chuckled once more when you shook your head quickly. “want to hear you say it.” he repeated, eyes piercing yours.
“wanna’ cum again,” your words were laced with desperation, needing to take a breath between sentences as his cock spread you open. “please let me cum,”
the british driver’s hum of satisfaction turned into a moan of pleasure at your plea, sounding and looking so pretty for him, it was clear you’d done enough as you felt his hand snake down between your bodies to your clit.
your vision went white practically immediately, almost yelping from how sensitive you were; thrown over the edge with little warm as you came on his dick ━ practically screaming his name as you did so.
lando came inside you merely a few seconds later, jaw slack from the sight of you and the way your walls squeezed him once more ━ only now was his thrusts sloppy as you both rode out your highs.
you were practically limp in his lap, forehead pressed against his shoulder as his own head rested against the headboard; heavy and irregular breaths filling the silence.
his hand moved to your head, fingers running through the strands of your hair comfortingly, the action causing you to hum in appreciation.
both of you were content with the silence, purely because neither of you knew exactly what to say. what to do. this was unexpected, to say the least.
you sat up straight after a couple minutes however, eyes meeting his ones; noticing the lack of intensity and confidence they held prior.
he was studying you as well, attempting to not spiral into a ‘what now.’
this meant a lot to him, he wouldn’t put that on you ━ that wouldn’t be fair. but you already had a good idea.
“i was wrong.” you finally managed to say what had been on the tip of your tongue, offering a small smile as his eyebrows raised in question.
he didn’t fully understand.
“about this. us. not making sense. being ridiculous.” you clarified, and the realisation washed over his features. you could feel him tense up slightly beneath you ━ shaking his head quickly.
“we don’t have to talk about it right now,” he assured in certainty. he didn’t want you to feel obligated to protect his feelings because you slept together.
which you appreciated, it was cute. he was thoughtful ━ which shouldn’t be a surprise.
“i’m not promising anything,” you clarified, dismissing him this time; you didn’t feel obligated at all. you weren’t saying you’d be his girlfriend and expected flowers when you woke up, but you needed him to know you no longer stood by what you said. you were also relieved to be able to articulate your thoughts. “but i was wrong.” you hummed.
a lazy smile spread on his features at that, acting like a catalyst for your own. a mumble of an okay and laughter was exchanged, before his lips were on yours again; a gentle kiss this time.
one you could certainly get used too.
━━
a/n: 615 days later and i’ve finally finished another fic. hope y’all r still there 😀😀
incredibly sorry for my inactivity and special shout out to everyone who has continued to support me despite the radio silence??? i love u
anyways i don’t love this but the fact i had the motivation to see it through was enough. hoping it’ll ease me back into writing and getting back up to standard, so apologises that it’s a little rusty 🫶🏼🫶🏼
what hasn’t changed is that it’s currently unedited and the ending is rushed hehe
as always feedback is always very much appreciated love u all mwahhh xoxo
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luveline · 3 months
Note
could I request a Remus fic where he’s known and liked reader for a while and she’s recently had a glow up and is skeptical about her newfound attention? you don’t have to tho thank you <3
ty for requesting !! fem
You’re a cloud of dainty perfume as you flop down beside him. “That’s so weird.” 
“What’s weird?” Remus asks, half-paying attention to you, his other half trying to finish the sentence he’d been reading. 
“There was a boy at the front of the cafe trying to open the door for me even though I was already opening it myself, and then he, like, stood there holding it for a bit after I’d already come in.” 
“Is it possible,” Sirius butts in, because of course he does, a cigarette between his fingers unlit, “that he was flummoxed by your beauty, lovely girl?” 
You drive your face into Remus’ arm. “Not this again.” 
“You’ve always been beautiful,” Sirius concedes, unaware or unaffected by your bashfulness, “but lately you’ve got quite the glow. I’ve been trying to hook you for weeks. Haven’t you noticed?” 
Remus smiles at his friend, digging in his jacket for a lighter to throw him. Sirius opens his hand and catches it gracefully. “She’s always been beautiful,” he says agreeably. 
“Be back in a minute.” 
You lift your head only after his footfall has faded away, gaze first at the window where Sirius has gone to smoke outside, and then the table where Remus is laying his book to rest. “I can’t stand him when he does that.” 
“Does what?” 
“Acts like I’m prettier than I am.” 
“When does he do that?” Remus asks, not quite monotone but getting there. 
“You know what I mean.” 
“Do I? You’re lovely, and Sirius can’t not notice because he’s Sirius.” 
“Can’t not attribute every weird man’s behaviour to my change in appearance.” 
“You’ve changed,” Remus acquiesces. “And boys notice you more, but I think that’s more to do with your sudden propensity for smiling and walking around with your chin up than any haircut or lipgloss.” 
“Oh, quite right, professor.” 
He pinches your thigh, savouring the laugh that bubbles out of you and your little jump in your seat. “You’re a trollop, is that what you want to hear?” he asks. 
Your face falls to your chin, and yes, Remus has liked you almost since he met you, and yes, your recent change in appearance has made you more eye-catching, but he means it when he says the pull of your demeanour is your new confidence. You’re stunning, the smile you give him, that hint of brightness in your eyes as you start to squint, it yanks sorely between his lungs. He wants to kiss you now more than he ever has before. 
“You really think he held my door ‘cos he thought I was pretty?” you ask. 
“I didn’t say that, did I? Sirius did.” He stands and stretches, feeling bold but not brave. “I think he held your door because you’re the most beautiful girl in any room you walk into, but what do I know?” he asks, grabbing his empty coffee cup from the small table in front. “I’ll get you a coffee.” 
“You dick,” you mutter. Such a short sentence, and yet he can tell you’re flustered without turning around to see it for himself. 
It’s a good thing —if he were to see you now, your shy smile, he’d end up telling you exactly how he feels about you. 
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miserycanary · 3 months
Text
MY HELL FOR YOUR LOVE ᡣ𐭩
♡⃛ ‘A Fixed Heart in Your Hand' alternative ending
pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader
synopsis: alternative ending because I feel bad for hurting y'all
tags: hurt/COMFORT, fluff
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"Sir? Sir!”
Ghost flinches as he realizes he’s been spacing out, the florist now looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Are you going to buy something or not?” she snaps, motioning at the display of bouquets. “Uh, yeah. Give me something with hyacinth and baby breaths,” he mutters, handing her a 100 bill. “Hyacinth? Never thought I’d see a day where a man knows a different flower aside from roses, tulips, and sunflowers,” the vendor chuckles, arranging the flowers neatly and covering them with a brown printed paper tied with a twine. “Ah,… if I know something, it’s about her.” The florist smiles, handing Ghost the bouquet and his change while saying, “Well, I can see that you love her dearly.” With a soft smirk, he replies, “That I do.”
You’ve always had a love for flowers. Going as far as to even beg him to make you a flower bed. Ghost didn’t like doing physical labor with him already getting beat from training at the base, yet when you flashed him that smile (and gave a toe-curling blowjob), how could he refuse? Since then, flowers as gifts have been rare between you two. Instances where he’d give you one are when you’re on a terrible period day or during milestones (the flowers coming from the patch he secretly planted months before).
It’s been two days since you’ve left the apartment, staying at your friend’s house, but Ghost insists on having you keep some of your stuff in the unit because, “well, you technically have ownership of the place since we shared the payment for this month.” It was a poor excuse, really, but it worked. Ghost knows you well enough to know that you haven’t broken up with him despite what you said. Leaving and staying somewhere else is something you do when you’re hurt and need space, and he knows that deep inside, you’re waiting for him. 
Don’t get him wrong. He doesn’t think you’re “easy to get” and he did really regret everything. The last 2 nights without you knocked some sense into him. The night felt colder, somber, and… lonely. Something he thought he would never complain about. I mean, this man has been through worse situations and he prefers solitude, but not if it’s solitude without you. You’re the one thing he can’t live without.
He has sent you multiple voicemails, messages, and even money as an apology. He’d always drop off by your friend’s place with some poorly attempted home-cooked meal of your favorite dishes. Sometimes he’d be able to steal a glance at you when he saw you coming up to the unit right before he arrived, sending flutters to his heart and butterflies in his stomach like a high school boy with a crush.
Now he stands by the door, hoping he’d leave the place with you in his arms, and him in your heart again. Three knocks (you always say less or more than that are for psychopaths) and a call of your name. Simon couldn’t help but chuckle when he heard your familiar cry, probably from rushing and stumbling. The wooden door cracked open, and the adrenaline that rushed through his nerves just from seeing you again could knock the man dead. He couldn’t even say anything except literally melt and give you the warmest smile. “Hi,” he softly greets, pulling the bouquet out of the paperbag and handing it to you with another gift. It was a charm... a tree bark with your initials engraved. You chuckle, pulling out the letter sticking out. 
One thing you learned about your Simon was that he’s not entirely good at conveying his feelings. I mean, that’s literally the reason for this fight. Yet he got out of his comfort zone, wrote you a fucking letter.
You look at him, tears in your eyes before jumping into his arms.
“I fucking missed you, pretty girl,” he mutters, holding you up by your ass and pressing a deep kiss on your lips. God, you taste like heaven; you taste like salvation. He tangles his fingers in your hair and pushes you closer, afraid you’ll slip from his fingers again. 
From that day on, Simon learned one thing. That he would rather go through the depths of hell (talk about his feelings) than go through a day without your love. 
| The letter: 
‘To my darling flower, I’m sorry for even hurting you. I’m sorry I was a shit-ass about how I processed my emotions and got you involved. You’ve always told me that you’re there for me but I didn’t want to burden you. I always want you to be happy but my actions just did the opposite. I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything that day. That I didn’t even ask you to stay. I’m sorry for being a coward. I’m sorry that I let you go. 
With this letter, I ask for your forgiveness and for you to have me back. I will be better because I cannot afford to lose you for you have my heart and soul. You are my whole life. You are the thing that makes surviving each day worth it.’
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꒰ა ☆ ໒: Now you guys know why Ghost calls Y/N ‘flower’. This the comfort alternative ending because it was also requested. 📩
dividers by @cafekitsune
Please reblog!! Ask is open!
⟢ taglist: @softestqueeen
check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!
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landososcar · 4 months
Text
lover ; LN4
pairing(s) ; lando norris x swiftie!reader
summary ; in which y/n just wants to post pictures of her boyfriend, not expecting people to get the wrong idea
warnings ; smau, lots of fluff
note ; its 3am and i didn’t want to sleep til i finished this so idk what mistakes there probably is lmao😭 also just pretend the twitter stuff says 2024 i cba changing it all
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instagram ; yourusername
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liked by nando4lorris, carlossainz55 and others
yourusername i saw the dimples first and then i heard the accent 💓☺️
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user1 who are you
carlossainz55 you tagged the wrong account silly
yourusername you replied with the wrong account moron
nando4lorris you two aren’t slick
yourusename yeah ok mr nando lorris
nando4lorris you’re supposed to be on my side wtf
user2 i’m so lost 😭😭
user3 i’m confused someone explain
user4 babe everyone’s confused
user5 wait so is this carlos’ gf or not
user6 idk who you are but you’re hot as fuck
user7 ok i swear i’ve seen carlos wear that top in the 4th pic before
user8 yeah i think i’ve seen lando wearing it too tho
user9 but lando isn’t in this girls likes and comments
nando4lorris yeah guys you’re right she’s gotta be carlos’ girlfriend
yourusername nando4lorris fuck off i hate you so much 😭😭😭😭😭
user10 ????????
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instagram ; yourusername
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liked by landonorris, nando4lorris and others
yourusername i’d like to hang out with you for my whole life 🤗🧡
view all comments
user1 crying because lando liked on his main AND his burner (confirmed)
yourusername p.s. the tag in these pics is for PHOTO CREDS 😁
user2 LMFAOOO HER COMMENT
user3 girl said my mans is NOT carlos sainz jr🙅‍♀️
user4 i have so much to say
user5 the taylor love lyrics, the orange heart emoji, the flowers, the ladybugs, THE CAT CARDIGAN
user6 i think i would die for her
nando4lorris 🧡🧡
yourusername 🥰
carlossainz55 i thought you guys were still trying to be sneaky
yourusername carlos you’re the one making it hard to be sneaky
user7 oh it’s so lando
carlossainz55 oh well it’s been 4 years everyone already knew
user8 ITS BEEN WHAT JEHFKSKKS ????????
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instagram ; landonorris
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liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and others
landonorris i’ve loved you (five) summers now honey but i want them all 😁😁
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user1 oh my god
user2 FIVEEEEE SUMMERS????? EVEN MORE THAN CARLOS SAID !/?;&2!@:9(
carlossainz55 i’m sorry i just guessed how many years because i didn’t know exactly just that its been a long long time
yourusername it’s ok carlos you were close
user3 SHES BEEN TO RACES AND NO ONES EVER SAID ANYTHING ABOUT HER OH MY GOD
maxverstappen1 finally mate
oscarpiastri wooo secrets out 🥳
user4 he used a taylor lyric for the caption im gonna be sick
user5 if you zoom in on the second pic you can actually see me drowning myself in the background
ciscanorris1 💓💓
yourusername love you🥰
user6 wait i don’t have twitter can someone explain
user7 oh BABE you’ve got some catching up to do
yourusername my fav boy love you to saturn ☺️🧡
landonorris i love you more than you love taylor swift🥰
yourusername ok settle down babe don’t go too far
landonorris no sorry you’re right
user8 when he understands that ones love for taylor is never beaten >>>>>
user9 i need them biblically
user10 i still don’t understand how they hid her for 5 years lmfaoooo
user11 yourusername ok y/n but did he take you to the eras tour
yourusername he got us tickets for a uk show later this year 🥰🥰
user12 now, how’d that curly haired vroom vroom bitch pull HER
liked by landonorris!
my other works !
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koolades-world · 1 year
Text
Demons and Humans not understanding each other
Inspired by several other posts I read about this same thing <3 honestly even if the brothers insisted it was safe, I would consult Satan, Lucifer or Barbatos
this is mostly mammon freaking out
Humans think the deadliest things are like, adorable, like Cerberus. Mammon especially does not understand why Mc wants to run towards the very dangerous, very mad three headed dog. A few times he has had to throw Mc over his shoulder to keep them from staying behind
“MC CERBERUS BEING THE BEST BOY DOES NOT JUSTIFY HIS ACTIONS HE WANTS TO KILL US”
“But he’s so cute! He just needs a snuggle buddy”
Humans can also be very stubborn if they’re too hot or cold but refuse to admit it. It’s fine with Lucifer does it because he’s one of the most powerful and therefore resilient demons in Hell, but not so much when Mc does it. Beel and Mammon love playing in the Devildom snow, but given that it’s the Devildom, it’s definitely a lot colder than it is in the human realm. Even after ten layers, Mc is still freezing but refuses to admit it.
“Mc, are ya shivering? I thought ya would be too warm under all that”
“I’m sweating with this one jacket”
“I’ll live! Let’s go back to the snowman”
“no I don’t think you will”
On the same note, sometimes demons forget humans can’t withstand crazy temperatures. Asmo will invite Mc to a popular bathhouse, sauna or hot springs, forgetting that the temperature would literally boil Mc alive
“Hey Asmo this is the place you wanted to go, right?”
“Yes! Isn’t is cute?”
“Everything except the part where I boil alive”
“what!”
Some foods can kill humans just by being near them so imagine how the brother would feel when they learned this, it’s giving that lunatic pudding incident with Diavolo from that one card
“Mc! You’ll love this. Open wide!”
“Asmo I feel funny”
“DO NOT FEED MC THE TAKEOUT LUCIFER SAID ITS DEADLY FOR HUMANS IN LARGE AMOUNTS”
“FUCK NOT AGAIN”
In retrospect, humans probably sleep a lot compared to demons. Some demons probably don’t sleep at all, except Sloth demons. Setting aside about eight to nine hours of the day just to sit idly might not make sense to them until they learn they will shut down without it
“How are you feeling about the exam we just took? Exam week is finally over.”
“Mc? Mc, Satan is talking to you. Why are you on the floor”
“MY HUMAN IS DEAD”
“No, I think they’re just asleep idiot”
“oh. wait, THEYRE ASLEEP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE HALL lucifer is gonna kill me”
I’d say both demons and humans are social creatures, but humans will go insane without social interaction. Yeah a demon would probably be upset if they didn’t talk to someone for thousands of years but I don’t think a human could last more than ten without losing grip on reality. Humans tend to copy each other, which is probably bizarre to demons. Humans don’t even understand yawning so demons definitely won’t
Going back to the food thing, demons can probably go ages without eating, besides Gluttony demons. Humans need to eat so frequently compared to them
“So you’re tellin’ me that if Mc doesn’t eat for a whole week, their insides start to eat themselves?!”
“Yes. But, Mc ate a few hours ago.”
(Mammon was already gone when Satan turned back around)
Demons probably also play game that would definitely kill humans. My brother and I used to play crazy games when we were little (our favorite game didn’t have a name but we would put Barbies in the toy train tracks and see what would happen when different Thomas and friends character would hit her. The train tracks would glow in the dark! I did not let him put my favorite doll in the train track and he had to listen since I was the older one, she was not a barbie and had bendy feet? that’s not for now) but we never seriously got at each other throats. I cannot imagine what games demons and demon children must play. Satan was born fully grown but imagine if he was born little and the brothers had to play his favorite games with him. I feel like they would find the Barbie game I played a little weird too. Like, they would probably tell me that I should’ve done it in real life since that would be better experience or something batshit like that
“Aww, Satan, do you remember all the times we played “Five minute eye stab” with Lucifer? You were so cute. Sometimes I think Luci let you win.”
“Do not talk to me Asmodeus.”
“I’m sorry, you played what?”
“One time we gave him an actual knife by accident and since he was good, he ended up stabbing Lucifer’s eye.”
“You’ll be next if you don’t shut up and let me read”
“HE WHAT”
“Oh he’s fine now, clearly. Only took him a few hundred years to regain normal eye functions”
“Can we not talk about this anymore?”
Babe it is a miracle Mc is still alive
7K notes · View notes
halsteadlover · 6 months
Text
𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬
• Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader.
• Summary: just a compilation of Charles’ ig posts showing how much he’s obsessed and in love with you and his baby.
• Warnings: none just pure fluff.
• A/N: I know I know… I’m a sucker for dad fics I just can’t help it 😭😭 this is my first time posting a smau so please be kind with me I know it’s bad 😭 let me know what I can do to do it better and what you think ❤️ love you all xx
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charles_leclerc You have never been more beautiful than you are now mon amour. Watching you grow our baby is one of the most beautiful things I have ever witnessed 🖤
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user1 Charles whipped Leclerc is back in town!
charlos123 screaming, crying throwing up 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
landonorris find yourself someone who loves you like Charles loves his wife (I'm 5'10 girls)
oscarpiastri Shut up no you’re not
user88 💀💀💀
yourusername Je t'aime plus que la lune et les étoiles mon amour ❤️ We’re both so lucky to have you (I love you more than the moon and the stars)
charles_leclerc Je t'aime beaucoup plus bébé❤️ (I love you so much more baby)
versclerc the way he just answers her comments 😭
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charles_leclerc For you mon amour.
For you, who looks in the mirror and doesn’t like what you see but is truly the most breathtaking woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.
For you, who every single day gives me one more reason to love you even more, something I didn’t even believe was possible. Feeling something so strong for someone that the word ‘love’ isn’t enough to describe it.
For you, who taught me the meaning of true love and what’s really important in life.
For you, who are so beautiful that it still surprise me even after so many years being together how you manage to give me butterflies in my stomach.
For you for whom just one look is enough to make my heart race and my hands sweat.
For you who are the most beautiful thing life has ever given me.
For you, who can brighten my darkest day, who can make me the happiest that I’ve ever been.
For you, who gave me the most beautiful gift I could have ever asked for.
We can’t wait to hold you mon petit, please hurry up 🙏🏻❤️
View all the comments
user24 GOOD FUCKING BYE
user98 Dragging my teeth on the concrete
mstleclerc CHARLESJSJSIDJSOSKSNSJ OMFGGGGGG 😭😭😭
carlossainz55 you’re making me want one of those little shits
Liked by charles_leclerc and yourusername
landonorris I almost shed a tear not gonna lie
Liked by charles_leclerc
arthur_leclerc I’m so happy for you brother I can’t wait to spoil my nephew ❤️
Liked by charles_leclerc and yourusername
charles_leclerc By the way my wife just bursted out crying seeing this post and I was about to make a video but she literally threatened to kill me if I did ❤️ God I love her 😍
f1fun_12 This is such a Y/n thing to do 😭
sainzzzzzzzzzzzz As she should!
yourusername I can’t put into words how much I’m grateful for you and for everything you do for our little family. Our son is so lucky to have you as a father and I couldn’t have chosen a better husband. I’d be so lost without you baby, I love you more than my life ❤️ ps: stop making me cry for fucks sake I don’t have any more tears in my body thanks
charles_leclerc Can you please unlock the bedroom darling?
yourusername Nope, that’s what you get for trying to filming me
yourusername UNLESS……. You bring me a ketchup sandwich
charles_leclerc it’s already on the way my queen 👸🏻 your wish is my command
user7612 A KETCHUP SANDWICH??? What???
yourusername @user7612 it’s not my fault okay?
monof1 the fact Charles is so used to her cravings that he’s not even questioning them anymore 😭
charles_leclerc @monof1 fun fact: never NEVER argue with a pregnant woman especially if that pregnant woman is Y/n
monof1 @/charles_leclerc OMG CHARLES HI I LOVE YOU
charles_leclerc posted on his story
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yourusername
What did I do to deserve you?
landonorris answered your story:
You’re so whipped mate
charles_leclerc can you blame me? Have you seen my wife and THAT baby bump?
carlossainz55 answered your story:
Yeah ok we get you’re in love and bla bla bla
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charles_leclerc There are only a few days left until our baby arrives and I’m scared and impatient at the same time. My wife is sleeping next to me now breathtakingly beautiful and I’ve taken some time to reflect on how these 9 months have flown by and I can’t believe it, it seems like it was just yesterday that we found out we were expecting a baby. I can no longer remember what my life was like before knowing your existence, little one.
I can't help but imagine and think about you in everything I do and every step I make, thinking about how beautiful it’ll be to see you take your first steps, to see you run around the house, dirty everything, to see you measure my helmets, to see you trying my race suits, to see you go to school, to see you grow in the beautiful and amazing person you’re going to be.
We’ll probably argue sometimes, although I’ll make sure that never happens, but whatever happens, just know that I loved you more than my life from the first moment since I saw that positive pregnancy test and I hope you’ll never forget it even if we have any argument.
Mommy and I are so eager to finally hold you in our arms, hear you cry and take your first breath in this new life. It hasn’t always been easy, I’ll be honest, and it won’t be easy but I wouldn’t change anything. I love you mon petit ange. 🖤
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user90 CHARLES 😭😭😭😭😭
maxlecsainz I swear it’s not that I don’t want a baby it’s just men are not like Charles Leclerc
y/nmommy1 who wants to take a quick bath with a toaster?
user65 I’m on my way sis
y/ncharles82772 wait for me I’m taking a nap on a highway right now
norrizzzzz528 I know it’s the bare minimum but seeing the way Charles loves his family makes my heart so happy 😭😭😭
lewishamilton I’ve never thought there would be a day where I’d be jealous of Charles Leclerc but here we are… Jokes aside I’m so happy for you mate 🖤
Liked by charles_leclerc
user209 you’re so real Lew
landonorris when will the child see his fav uncle?
arthur_leclerc EXCUSE ME?
lorenzotl you’re so delusional
carlossainz55 Yeah. Clearly I AM already his favourite one
pierregasly you’re all so wrong @/yourusername said he’ll like me the most 💁🏻‍♂️
charles_leclerc @/pierregasly she literally never said that?
pierregasly @/charles_leclerc oh shut up you know it’s true
user42 what is going on in this comment section??? 💀
daddylec16 the way they can’t never leave Charles in peace even in his comment section 😭
maxverstappen1 Once I saw Charles crying his eyes out because Y/n sent him an audio with the baby’s heartbeat since he couldn’t make it for the ultrasound
user66 OH MY GOD!!!!!!! 😭😭
maxalonso1995 STOPPPPP GIVE US MORE MAX
charles_leclerc THAT’S NOT TRUE I was just having an allergic reaction to dust
maxverstappen1 @charles_leclerc oh c’mon Charlie
user66 CHARLIEHSJSJDJJS FUCK OFF
charles_leclerc @/maxverstappen1 it only happened ONCE
leclercfan12 every day Charles comes on this app and has to fight for his life poor baby
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charles_leclerc Our little boy Jules Hervé Leclerc is finally here.
I can’t even put into words how over the moon we are right now, I feel like my life just started all over again. Watching my wife give birth to my son is an experience I’ll never forget, you’re a force of nature baby I can’t thank you enough for everything you do for me.
And to my little Jules I love you more than the air I breathe I can’t way to start this new life with you ❤️
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yourusername Don’t let him fool you guys he went to sleep after I GAVE BIRTH
charles_leclerc OMFG THAT’S NOT TRUE DON’T LISTEN TO HER
yourusername hehe 😆 just kidding guys he’s the best. I love you so much Cha, Jules and I are so lucky to have you ❤️
user765 STOP THE WAY CHARLES IS CRYING IN THE FIRST PIC
user22 WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN
mclarengirllll112 JULES HERVÉ LECLERC DO YOU HEAR ME FUCKING CRYING
norrizzzzz528 WHAT IF I JUST KILLED MYSELF
user976 OUR PRINCE IS HERE EVERYBODY MOVE
daddylec16 I know I’ll find someone who loves me like Charles loves his family. I just know it
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General tag list: @hngbrooks, @alexxavicry, @halstead-severide-fan, @mrspeacem1nusone, @allivzs, @omniaimy, @cursedashes, @kmc1989, @klovesreading, @firetruckstuckley, @23victoria
Charles Leclerc tag list: @softicecr3eam, @halsteadbrasil, @bwormie, @ssprayberrythings, @mynameisangeloflife
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Side blog -> @halsteadloverslibrary
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