#besides not be fem presenting I guess

[my-little-loverboy]

I’m bored and can’t sleep so I doodled my hyv s/i in my favourite outfits for when I’m obligated to go outside and/or obligated to look good

Ft the actual fits

[nyrasvoid]

The Cost of Duty

Gwayne Hightower x Fem!Reader

Summary: Gwayne Hightower, is summoned in Kingslanding during his wife’s first pregnancy. After giving birth to their son without him, she struggles to forgive Gwayne upon his return.

Warnings: lots of angst because our girl is alone but a good ending i guess ?

A/N: no use of Y/N and also included Daeron in the fanfic, he’s 7 yrs old and raised by Gwayne and his wife

- Word count: ≈2.9k

Your hand rests on your growing belly, feeling the subtle movements of your child. The babe is still small, just five moons along, but every tiny kick, is a reminder of the life growing inside you, a life you created with Gwayne. Yet, as the days pass, it feels like you are experiencing this miracle alone.

The door creaks open, and Gwayne steps inside, his expression tired as he pulls off his gloves. His face is lined with the exhaustion of someone who has been carrying the weight of Oldtown on his shoulders.

You watch him as he moves around the room, setting his things aside without a word. A part of you wants to let it go, to simply accept that he is busy, that he is doing his duty. But another part aches for his attention, for the warmth and closeness you once shared.

"Gwayne," you say, your voice soft.

He looks up, his eyes briefly meeting yours before he looks away again. "Yes, my love?"

You hesitate, trying to find the right words. "You've been so distant lately," you begin, trying to keep a calm tone. "I understand that your duties are important, but... I miss you. I miss us."

He sighs, rubbing his temple as he moves closer to you. "I know, my love. I know it has been difficult. But there is so much that needs my attention. With Father in King’s Landing, everything falls to me."

"But what about me?" you ask, your voice rising slightly. "What about our child? I need you, Gwayne. We need you."

He looks at you, with guilt in his eyes. "I am here now, am I not? I’m doing the best I can. But Oldtown... it doesn’t run itself."

You stand, unable to keep your frustration to yourself. "And what about me? Do I run myself too? I sit here every single day, waiting for you, hoping for just a moment of your time. But when you finally come, it’s like you’re not really here.”

You pause.

“You do not even look at me unless I speak to you first."

Gwayne steps back, as if putting distance between you would solve your problems. "I do not have the privilege of simply putting things aside, my dear. You knew this when we married."

"I didn’t know it would mean being ignored!" you snap, your hands trembling as you grip the skirts of your dress tightly.

He takes a deep breath. "I’m doing this for us, for our future. The child’s future. Can you not see that?"

Tears threaten to fall out your eyes, but you refuse to cry. "I just want my husband back," you whisper.

Gwayne’s face softens, and he reaches out to touch your arm, but you pull away before he can touch you. “My love-"

"Don’t," you say, "Just... don’t."

He watches you for a moment, but he says nothing more, only turning and leaving the room, the sound of the door closing behind him, leaving you alone again.

Days pass, and the tension between you two only grows. Gwayne is present, but his mind is always on his duties. You feel as if you’re growing further and further away from him.

One evening, after a long day, Gwayne finally sits down beside you as you take your evening meal. You’ve been silent for most of the day, and now the sight of him so close yet so distant is almost unbearable.

He clears his throat, breaking the silence. "I have received a raven from King’s Landing today," he begins.

"And?" You replied unphased, not even looking at him.

"Father has summoned me," he says, "He needs my presence to sort out some political matters."

You place your spoon down. "King’s Landing?" you repeat, disbelief in your words. "That’s so far... and I’m already five moons along, Gwayne."

"I know," he says, his voice low. "But I will be returning as soon as I can. I won’t let anything keep me from being here for the birth."

You shake your head, unable to believe what you’re hearing. "You don’t know that. What if something happens? What if you don’t make it back in time?"

"I will," he insists, reaching for your hand, but you pull it back.

"You’re not listening to me!" you raise your voice at him, your frustration taking over. "You’re choosing to leave. You’re choosing your father over me. Over us."

He frowns. "It’s not a choice, my dearest. It is a duty. My father needs me."

"And I need you," you sob, your voice breaking. "I can’t do this alone, Gwayne. I shouldn’t have to. You are my husband before anything else."

He reaches out again, but this time you stand, moving away from him. "Please," he begins, but you shake your head.

"Don’t ask me to understand," you say, "Because I don’t."

After a long moment of silence, you hear him rise from his seat. "I’m leaving in three days time," he says quietly, his voice filled with regret. "Please, try to rest.”

You say nothing, you hear the door close behind him, and you break down crying, once again, you are left alone.

The night before he’s supposed to leave, Gwayne comes to your shared chambers, his expression softer than it’s been in weeks. He moves to sit beside you on the bed, his hand resting on your knee.

"I know you’re angry with me," he begins, his voice gentle. "But I don’t want to leave on bad terms. I love you. You must know that."

You turn to face him, your emotions a mix of anger, sadness, and love. "If you loved me, you wouldn’t be leaving."

He looks surprised, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your neck, his hand sliding up your nightgown. "Let me show you," he murmurs as he presses tender kisses down your collarbone.

But the anger and hurt are still too fresh. You place a hand on his chest, pushing him back firmly. "Not tonight, Gwayne."

He pulls back, surprise and hurt showing in his eyes. "My love..."

"I can’t," you say, "I’m still angry. I need...time."

He nods understandingly. "I am sorry," he whispers, pulling you into his arms despite your anger. "I am truly, so sorry."

You let him hold you, sobbing into his arms without saying a word.

Gwayne leaves at dawn, you watch from the window, your hand resting over your belly as he rides away. He turns once, looking back, but you don’t move. You don’t wave.

As the days turn into weeks, the loneliness only grows. Gwayne’s absence is a constant reminder of the growing distance between you. You try to busy yourself with tasks; embroidering blankets for the babe, reading, even taking long walks through the gardens. But nothing can fill the void he has left behind.

You spend time with Daeron, Gwayne’s youngest nephew, who has been staying in Oldtown under your and your husband’s care since he was born, and he had now seven years of age.

One afternoon, as the two of you sit beneath the shade of a large tree, Daeron looks up at you sadly.

You reach out, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “What’s on your mind, sweetling?”

Daeron glances up at you, his blue eyes filled with a sadness. “Auntie… will you and Uncle Gwayne forget about me when the babe is born?”

The question catches you off guard. You shift closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him into a gentle embrace. “Forget about you? Never, Daeron. Why would you think such a thing?”

He shrugs, trying to appear indifferent, but his voice trembles as he speaks. “Because the babe is your child. He’ll be important, and I’m just… I’m just your nephew.”

You tighten your hold on him, your heart breaking at the thought that he feels so insecure. “Daeron, listen to me,” you say softly. “You are not just our nephew. You’re as much a part of this family as the babe will be. Gwayne and I love you dearly, and nothing will ever change that.”

His eyes fill with tears. “But… he’ll be your real son. Won’t you love him more?”

You shake your head. “Of course not, sweetling. I will love both of you equally, just as if you were both my sons. I promise you that. You and the babe will grow up together, and I will raise you both as brothers. Nothing will change how much I care for you.”

Daeron’s lip trembles, and he finally allows himself to lean into your hug, resting his head against your shoulder. “You mean it? You won’t forget about me?”

You press a kiss to the top of his head. “I mean it, Daeron. You are very dear to me. The babe will be your little brother, and he will look up to you, just like you look up to Gwayne. I’m sure you’ll be the best big brother anyone could ask for.”

He sniffles but nods. “I will teach him all the things I know. How to ride a horse, and how to climb trees…”

“And how to be kind and brave, just like you,” you add with a smile.

Daeron smiles a little. “I’ll do my best. I promise.”

You hug him tighter. “I know you will, Daeron. And I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

He pulls back slightly, looking up at you with determination. “I’ll be the best big brother ever.”

You smile, ruffling his hair affectionately. “I’m sure you will be, my love. And the babe will be so lucky to have you as his brother.”

The boy’s expression softens as he looks at your belly. “Do you think he’ll be just like uncle Gwayne? Brave and strong?”

You hesitate for a moment, the thought of Gwayne filling your mind with sadness. “Perhaps,” you say gently.

Daeron nods, then his face brightens again as he looks up at you. “Can I help you pick out a name for him?”

Your smile widens at the offer. “Of course. Do you have any ideas?”

He thinks for a moment, his brow furrowing in concentration. “What about Maelor? It’s a strong name, isn’t it?”

You tilt your head, considering the name. “Maelor…” you say slowly. “Yes, it is a strong name.”

Daeron smiles, clearly proud of himself. “I can’t wait to meet him, auntie. We’re going to have so much fun together.”

As the months drag on, you begin to feel your belly grow heavier each day. Letters from Gwayne arrive frequently, filled with words of love and concern, but you don’t care to answer them.

You feel alone, as the weeks turn into months and the baby gets more active. Every kick is a reminder that the time is running out and you can only hope that Gwayne comes back in time.

But as your belly grows, so too does your anxiety.

One evening, you feel a sharp pain. You clutch at your belly. It’s too soon, you think. Gwayne isn’t here. He promised he would be here.

The pain intensifies, and you know without a doubt that the babe is coming. Your maids rush to your side, their faces filled with worry as they help you to your bed. The midwives and the maester are summoned.

You grip the sheets, your knuckles turning white. “It’s too soon,” you gasp, tears streaming down your face. “Gwayne isn’t here… he isn’t here…”

The midwife shushes you gently, wiping the sweat from your forehead. “Breathe, my lady. Focus on the baby. He’s eager to meet you.”

The labor is long, painful, and each moment is filled with fear.

At one point, you feel that you can’t go on, the pain too much to bear. “I can’t,” you cry out, “I can’t do this…”

“You can, my lady,” the midwife insists. “You’re strong. Your baby needs you.”

The room is full of faces, of whispers and encouragements, of hands holding yours as you push with all your strength.

Hours pass, and just when you think you have nothing left to give, you hear it. A loud cry that fills the room. The midwives wrap the tiny babe in soft blankets before placing him in your arms.

Tears stream down your face as you look down at your son cry. He’s perfect, you think.

“Maelor,” you whisper, “my sweet Maelor.”

Days pass, and the babe grows stronger, his cries filling the empty chambers that once were filled with silence. Daeron is overjoyed to meet his new brother.

“Can I hold him?” Daeron asks one afternoon, his eyes wide with excitement.

You smile, carefully placing Maelor in his small arms. “Support his head,” you instruct gently, watching as Daeron cradles the baby with surprising care.

“He’s so small,” Daeron whispers. “Will he be strong like uncle Gwayne?”

You nod, your heart filled with pride. “He will. But he’ll also have your kindness, Daeron. He’ll need you to show him how to be a good man.”

Daeron’s face lights up, and he nods eagerly. “I will. I promise.”

You watch as Daeron gently rocks Maleor, your heart warming at the sight. For a moment, the loneliness fades, replaced by the joy of watching your sons together.

But as the days turn into weeks, Geayne sends letters, each one more desperate than the last, asking about Lucerys, about you, about your health. But you can’t bring yourself to respond, the anger still too fresh.

Maelor grows, his tiny fists curling around your fingers, tugging at your hair, his eyes beginning to focus on your face. He’s beautiful, perfect in every single way, and yet every time you look at him, you’re reminded of Gwayne’s absence.

Two months pass before Gwayne finally returns. Word reaches you that he is only an hour away, but you remain in the nursery, rocking your son in your arms as you sit by the window.

Despite knowing Gwayne is coming home, you make no move to greet him at the gates.

Footsteps approach, and a moment later the door to the nursery swings open. Gwayne stands there, his eyes searching for you immediately. He takes a step inside, his gaze falling on you and the child in your arms. “My love…”

You do not look up, focusing instead on Maelor. Gwayne approaches you, dropping to his knees beside you. “Please, look at me. I am so sorry…”

You remain silent, unwilling to let your emotions show. Gwayne reaches out, placing his hand on top of yours. “I know I’ve hurt you. I never meant to be away for so long. I didn’t think it would be so… difficult.”

You glance up then, your eyes meeting his.

“I needed you,” you say quietly. “I went through the hardest moments of my life without you, Gwayne. And now… now you come back and expect everything to be as it was?”

“I do not expect that,” he says, “I know I’ve done wrong. And I can’t change what’s happened… but please, give me a chance to make it right. I want to be here for you, for our son.”

You look down at your son, your heart aching. “Maelor is already two months old,” you say, your voice barely a whisper. “You’ve missed so much, Gwayne. His first smile, the way he grabs my finger when he’s hungry… you weren’t here.”

Gwayne’s breath hitches, and he finally touches Maelor’s tiny hand, his fingers trembling as they brush against the babe’s soft skin. “I know,” he whispers. “I am truly so sorry, my love. I’ve never regretted anything more in my life. Please… let me be here now. Let me be the father he deserves, the husband you deserve.”

“We’ll see,” you say quietly. “For now, all that matters is that Maelor is healthy and safe.” You pause and take a deep breath, “But… I want us to be a family, Gwayne. For Maelor and Daeron.”

Gwayne nods. “Thank you,” he whispers, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your son’s forehead. “Thank you for giving me a healthy son, my dear. I promise, I’ll spend the rest of my life making this right.”

You watch as he cradles the babe in his arms, the sight filling you with joy.

PS: I know I have to start writing for other characters, I just love this man so much 😔 So just a reminder that my requests are open 🥰🥰

[beingsuneone]

I BET You Think About Me

SYNOPSIS: being Theo’s girlfriend is a dream… until you find out why he asked you out in the first place.

FANDOM: Harry Potter

PAIRING(S): Theodore Nott x fem!reader

RATING: PG

CHARACTERS MENTIONED: Enzo, Blaise, Draco, Mattheo, Pansy, Snape

GENRE/AU: Snape’s Daughter!Reader, Asks you out cause of a bet, kind of angsty, kind of fluffy, slytherin!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.6K

WARNINGS: swearing and kissing.

A/N: agh. It’s 3 in the morning. Enjoy. May have a tiny bit of pacing issues but it’s fine

DEDICATIONS: the polls who decided they wanted Theo while I decided I was gonna post Mattheo and Rhysand instead.

CREDITS: n/a

…Six Months Ago….

——————————————————————————

“You can’t do it, Theo.” Draco says plainly. “If she’s anything like her father she won’t be able to feel that kind of emotion.”

Theo shakes his head. “She’s still a girl.”

Mattheo snorts, Enzo sputters. “That’s a bit sexist, Theo.” Enzo says, looking over at Y/n L/n.

She’s Severus Snape’s daughter and completely untouchable. Theo hasn’t seen a single guy going out with her in the whole six years they’d been at hogwarts.

That might be because of her father.

“Draco’s right.” Mattheo says. “She’ll never fall for you.”

“I’m gonna prove you guys wrong and you’re gonna owe me a shit ton of money for it.”

…. One Month Ago ….

——————————————————————————

Mattheo stares at you as you walks away. “Damn, I guess you were right.” Both him and Draco reach for their wallets but Theo waves them off.

“I don’t want it— any of it.” It felt for him wrong to take the money from the bet. Theo had fallen for you just as hard— if not harder— as you’d fallen for him.

Hell, Theo would kiss the ground you walked on if you asked him.

“What do you mean?” Blaise asks incredulously. “You won the bet.”

Theo furrows his eyebrows. “Whatever, I don’t want the money.”

They all stare at him.

One, two, three minutes of silence before Mattheo blurts out: “Oh my god. Theo fell for her.” He starts to laugh, and the other boy's eyes widen.

“Wow. That’s a little bit pathetic, Theo.” Draco teases.

Pansy slides in beside Blaise. “Wow. Famous playboy Theodore Nott fell for someone?” She snickers. “Who?”

Theo deadpans. “What do you mean who?” You are Pansy’s roommate after all, Pansy should better than anybody.

Her face falls. “You don’t mean y/n. do you?” Theo nods and she gives him an exasperated look. “Theo! You literally only dated her to win a bet!”

“Yeah, I know!” He retorts. A beat of silence, then, “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You have to tell her.” Enzo cuts in. “If you truly like her, it isn’t something you can keep secret.”

Theo nods his head absentmindedly. “I know, I know. I’ll tell her soon.”

He didn’t want his new relationship to end before it ever began.

….Present….

——————————————————————————

Today, you woke up late, stubbed your toe on your bed and then spent the ten minutes you had to get ready looking for your damned potions book.

When you’d finally found it, threw on your uniform and got your hair into some sort of presentable, you rushed out your dorm and down the hallways as fast as your feet would take you.

Your class was on the opposite side of Hogwarts and you were already ten minutes late.

In your haste, you aren’t watching for other people in front of you and run straight into someone.

“I’m so sorry!” You exclaim frantically, picking up your books as she picks up hers.

She looks familiar but you don’t know her name.

“No, it’s okay— Oh.” Her faces twists into a scowl when she meets your gaze. “You’re Theo’s ‘Girlfriend’” she airquotes as she says ‘girlfriend’, causing you to narrow your eyes at here.

You furrow your eyebrows. “Uhm, yeah, I am. Why did you say it like that?”

She crosses her arms. “Because you and I both know that he doesn’t actually like you. You’re not his girlfriend.”

“And who, exactly, are you?” You ask, annoyance settling in your chest.

She looks down at you, a cocky expression written on her face. “You should probably just stay away from him, you know that, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Really, he’s going to be mine so I don’t even know what you’re doing.” She waves you off, as if she truly believes this.

You shuffle your books around in your arms and shift your weight into your other leg. “You do know that you’re not his girlfriend, right?”

“Whatever.” She shrugs, and you still don’t know her name. “Doesn’t matter if he calls you his girlfriend, it’s not like you’re a threat anyway.”

What does she mean ‘not a threat’? You feel like that’s a sentence better used to describe her considering, you’re Theo’s actual girlfriend. “What is that supposed to mean?” You ask incredulously but still relatively calm.

She gives you a mock sympathetic expression. “Oh, Sweetheart,” She starts, taunting you with each syllable. “You didn’t really think someone like Theo would settle down for someone like you… do you? I mean, he’s all parties and good times and you’re… well, you can’t even dress yourself properly.”

She looks you up and down, from your half-untucked uniform shirt to your loose tie and your unwrinkled skirt. You’re not usually this messed up. “Clearly, I do, because he did.” You pause, sigh deeply and roll your eyes. “Why am I even entertaining this conversation?” You turn away from her, preparing to tune her out and walk away.

She tuts, shaking her head. “Because you obviously know you mean nothing to him— after all when your relationship starts with a bet, I don’t think it’s ever been super stable.”

This makes you stop and turn back to her. “A bet?” You say it slowly and the words taste awful on your tongue. “What bet?”

She scoffs-laughs and smiles evilly. “Oops, did I say too much?”

Theo chooses this moment to walk up behind the two of your . He slides his hand around my waist, letting it rest there as he stands beside me. “Are you okay? You’re super late.” He asks, looking you over. His eyes flit over to the girl who was talking to you and his nose scrunched. “Why are you talking to Tracey?”

Tracey, that’s her name.

I don’t think he likes her too much.

Tracey opens her mouth to respond but I cut her off and begin dragging Theo away. “I don’t even know, Theo, let’s go.”

I can feel Tracey’s glare until we’re well out of her line of sight.

Jealous.

……

You can’t get Tracey’s words out of your head. You know it was a tactic to rile you up and, you suppose, it worked but you had this horrible feeling that maybe she wasn’t lying.

Asking Theo about it though? That was hard; you didn’t want him to think you didn’t trust him but you also didn’t want to get upset before you knew whether it was true or not.

You decided to ask one or two other people before Theo. Pansy Parkinson, was first. She’s been your friend since first year but she hung out with Theo’s group long before you ever did.

“Hey, Pansy.” You say airily. She looks up at you and smiles.

The bed creaks as you fall down onto it and sigh. “Can I ask you a random question?” You ask, fidgeting with the corner of your blankets.

She looks up at you expectantly but also with a good deal of worry. “Yeah, of course; What’s up?”

She shifts in her spot at the end of her bed, turning her full attention to me.

“Did you ever… I don’t know,” you stop, trying to find the correct words. “Did you ever hear anything about Me, Theo and a bet? While you were, like, hanging out with them.”

Pansy looks down at your fidgeting fingers and then furrows her eyebrows. She thinks about it for a minute, and her face drops so slightly I almost don’t catch it. “Oh, y/n…” she trails off. “He didn’t tell you?”

Every muscle in your body locks up. “He didn’t tell me what?” You don’t think you really want the confirmation now that you know it’s coming.

Pansy stands and then sits down next to you and pulls you into her in a side hug. “When Theo started trying to get with you it was because of a bet.” She stops but you just gesture for her to continue. “… I wasn’t actively apart of this conversation so I only got the gist of it but I was there.”

“What was the bet.” You say, with your eyes hot and your throat restricted. Your tone makes it seem like it wasn’t a question.

“The boys bet him that he couldn’t make the next woman he saw fall in love with him by the end of the year.” She gives your a sad smile. “I guess the next woman was you.”

What. The. Fuck. You’re gonna kill him, because he obviously won that goddamn bet already. You give Pansy a quick squeeze and then stand up. “I need to go talk to him.”

Pansy nods and walks back to her own bed, waving bye as you walk through the door.

Your vision is a bit blurry and your hands are shaking with betrayal and anger as you storm away from the girl’s dorms and right through the common room to the boy’s dorms.

When you reach his door, you knock loudly, despite it being late.

Draco answers. He looks you up and down and then turns his back halfway to you. “Theo, your girlfriend is here.”

Theo appears a moment later, an easy smile and his piercing eyes that you want to love so badly right now. He gently moves you back a bit and steps out of the dorm. “Hey, Baby, what’s up?”

You shudder at the pet name and his face drops. “Oh, I don’t know, Theo.”

He pulls you to the other side of the hall and keeps his hands on your arms, comforting both yourself and him. “What’s wrong? Did somebody do something to you?”

The worry on his face seems so genuine, you almost want to believe the bet was a lie— but you’re not that stupid.

“Yeah, Theo, someone hurt me.” You pause. “It was you and your fucking bet.”

He freezes. “Shit. Who told you about that?”

You don’t want to— no, you can’t look in his eyes. “That girl, Tracey, and then Pansy filled in the finer details.” You’re arms are crossed now and he can’t hold you like he was before. “Is that seriously the only thing you care about right now— actually, obviously it would be because I’m just a bet, right?”

He opens his mouth to speak but you don’t let him. “Actually,” you continue. “I don’t want to hear it— just, have a good life, Theo. I’d say we’re over but I don’t think we really ever started to begin with.”

You walk away before you second-guess yourself and ignore as he calls your name. He doesn’t run after you, which you’re equally glad for and disappointed by.

God, you don’t think your heart has ever hurt this bad.

…..

You haven’t seen Theo in class for the whole week after you ‘broke up’; you’ve seen glimpses of him outside, always smoking, or eating in the Great Hall but it’s like he’s intentionally missing every class you have together.

He probably is.

He shouldn't have that right. You’re the one who gets to avoid him, he doesn’t get to avoid you.

You’re the one who got played like a violin and ended up battered and bruised.

You don’t see him for most of your days, but, when you do— when you look at him, his eyes are always already on you.

As a result the other Slytherin boys glance at you while he stares, because of how intensely he does so. You can feel his eyes burning holes into you at all times.

You try your best to ignore him as you stand to leave the Great Hall.

A boy stops you near the entrance, you think you recognize him. He’s the same year as you, and pretty nice as far as you know. His name is Lucas, you’re pretty sure.

“Hey.” Lucas says warmly. “How are you?”

He’s a bit close, and you’re sort of backed into the wall. You laugh awkwardly. “I’m alright, um, how are you?”

He smiles. “About the same,” he looks behind him and then back at you, same easy-going smile that isn’t easy the way Theo’s is. “Anyways, I was wondering… since you broke up with Nott, maybe you’d wanna go out sometime? With me?”

“She doesn’t.”

Lucas’s shoulders jump at the sound of Theo’s voice and he backs away from you and spins to look at Theo, whose standing there with a dangerous look on his face.

You glare at him. “Maybe I do want to.” It’s a challenge and Theo knows it.

Lucas sputters. “You know, I actually realized I’m busy, so…” he scrambles off after that you’re left with Theo.

You scowl at him. “Theo, what the fuck?”

“He’s not good enough for you.” He shrugs like he knows what’s good enough for you. Mr. Bet-Winner.

Your heart aches in your chest just looking at him. “And how would you know what’s good enough for me, Theo? because you sure as hell weren’t.”

He scowls now. “I treated you like you were a fucking princess, Y/n, all he would’ve done was treat you like a piece of ass.”

You huff. “A princess, Theo? None of it was even real!” You spin to walk away but Theo catches your wrist and pulls you back; he slips his other arm around your waist and pulls you right to his chest. Your faces almost touch.

Your breath hitches like the traitor that it is.

He pulls your hand up to rest on his chest, where his heart beats hard and erratically. “Does this feel fake to you?” Theo’s fingers dig lightly into your waist. “Do you honestly think that all of that— everything we said and did— meant nothing?”

His breath fans across your face.

Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, and he’s the ice bucket that can save you— but your pride and anger are like the fires of hell; irreparable.

“You took a bet to make me fall for you, Theo, and lucky for you, you won it. How much was I worth, huh?”

He replies almost instantly. “I didn’t take any money, Y/n.” Theo breathes deeply and you feel his chest rise and fall, forcing yours to do the same.

“You— what?” You can feel your resolve cracking, the hope leaking through that somehow you were wrong.

“Let me explain the full story.” He waits for you to give him confirmation; you nod and he continues. “Yes, it started with the bet, and yes, I had never planned for it to last. It was cruel and mean, and I’m sorry. But the thing is, I didn’t anticipate that I would end up falling in love with you right back.” The words feel like a kick to the heart.

“But, on the other hand, how could I not? You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and you’re intelligent and funny, you laugh at all my stupid jokes. You love potions more than any other class and you’re really good at it too.” He stops. “Y/n, you’re perfect and I’m so, so sorry I never told you— or, even worse, that I did it in the first place.”

Your heart skips several beats. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Oh.” You’re at a loss for words.

He just looks you over, trying to assess what’s running through your mind like he always does. “Please forgive me, Y/n. I love you so much it hurts.”

You pull away from him and he reluctantly lets go, his shoulders sagging in defeat.

“You’re serious?” You ask quietly. “No bets this time? Nothing you haven’t told me?”

He shakes his head, giving you the saddest, puppy-dog look, unintentionally.

You’re silent for another long moment before, finally, you say: “you love me?”

Theo looks into your eyes. “God, yes.”

“Okay.” You say softly.

He straightens. “Okay, you’ll get back together with me or Okay, I don’t forgive you?”

You hold up one finger and he seems to understand because he pulls you back into him so quickly and presses his lips to mine; you kiss him back, and kind of stand there, kissing, for a long moment. Probably longer than you should’ve.

But you wish he never had to stop.

All content belongs to @beingsuneone , do not repost, copy or post on other platforms without my permission.

[moonstruckme]

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.” 

[livinginshambles]

You'll never compare to her | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: you're in a relaionship with James, but he keeps on comparing you with Lily subconsciously until he says it to your face on a drunken night.

Notes: Hi, sorry I got into a major writer's block and couldn't for the life of me find a fitting ending, because I can't forgive this easily from own experiences, but I do like happy endings cause copium. Anyway if y'all have suggestions, I'll make a part two :)

Not proofread, grammar mistakes, spelling mistakes, etc etc. ENJOY!

Masterlist

______________________________

“James, wait up!” you yelled across the courtyard, catching the attention of about everyone except James. You watched James turn the corner with Peter, an exasperated expression on your face. You looked down dejectedly but then you saw the stares of people around you. You grinned widely at them, covering up any signs of embarrassment.

“There’s just something about boys and hearing problems,” you joked with a nonchalant shrug, and the surrounding students giggled in understanding.

You hummed to yourself while you walked off. You’d give James his wand later. He probably wouldn’t need it for Potions class anyway.

Peter looked up at James in confusion. “Prongs, did you not hear her call out to you?”

James sighed. “We’ll be late for class if we stopped, you know. I mean, I love my girlfriend, but she’s just sometimes a bit oblivious, and once she starts, we’ll be stuck there,” James explained in a complaining manner.

“But you love her,” came a voice behind him. Sirius parted James and Peter to walk between the two of them. “Right?” He swung his arms across the other marauders’ shoulders.

James gave him an annoyed look. “That’s what I said, but great hearing.”

“Better than you if you couldn’t hear her calling you,” Sirius laughed, but his eyes seemed to have lost a mischievous spark. “Do you think if you keep saying you love her, you’ll actually believe it?”

James glared at him and shook of Sirius’ arm. “If there’s literally any guy I wouldn’t take advice from, it’s you, Pads.” Sirius raised his hands in surrender. “Touchy today, are you Prongs?”

You sat down on the seventh staircase, opening your book. It was a muggle book that Lily had given to you as a birthday present. You looked at the necklace that James had bought you for your birthday. You had been afraid that he’d forgotten and been so thrilled when he had shown up at 10 in the evening.

The pendant was a flower, and even though you were not a botanical expert, you were very well aware that the flower was not a romantic rose or anything typically cheesy. You had a hunch what flower it was, but had refused to look it up, knowing that you would only be hurt.

Lily took a seat next to you. “The seventh staircase? Really? What’s wrong with the third?” She asked, utterly out of breath. You laughed, “hey, you invited yourself,” you defended with a fond smile. “Besides, since this is the highest staircase, it is the only one that is always in in a downward position, and won’t tilt and go upwards.”

“I guess,” she grinned, and she scooted over to see how far along you were in your book. “Oh my goodness, you’re getting to the good part!” she squealed happily. You gave her a warning look and closed your book. “No spoilers,” you sternly told her. Lily rolled her eyes playfully and nudged you. “I would never spoil this for you.”

“Alice and Marlene invited us for Hogsmeade this afternoon,” she casually mentioned, but she fumbled with her hands, signifying that she was nervous about something.

You raised your eyebrows. “Oh, well James and I were going to go together, so I don’t think I can join you guys this time,” you hesitantly told her.

Lily bit her lip. “James and the rest of the marauders already told Alice that they were going to join us this afternoon,” she softly explained. There was a conflicted expression in her eyes. “He overheard Alice and me talking about it.”

You pursed your lips. “Oh,” you nodded.

“Y/N, why do you let him do this to you?” Lily decided to ask you anyway.

“I’m not letting him do anything to me,” you defended. “He forgot to mention it to me, not a big deal.”

Lily protested. “We’re literally leaving as soon as their class is over. He wouldn’t have been able to tell you, Y/N. You would’ve-“

“-been waiting for him,” you finished her sentence. You bit on your cheek in thought. “I know, Lily,” you sighed.

“Then why-“

“Because I do believe he loves me,” you quickly tried to defend him, your voice raised in volume and Lily looked down. “He’s not perfect, but no one is,” you convinced yourself, recollecting yourself. You leaned against the stair post and looked down at the other stairs that changed directions, and the panicking first year students, who still hadn’t gotten the hang of it quite yet.

“He makes me feel so loved, you know,” you sighed when you looked back at her. Lily looked at you sadly. “When he remembers you, Y/N. When he remembers he has a girlfriend.”

You didn’t know what to reply because she was right. James could be the loveliest boyfriend when he wanted to. “It’s enough for me,” you eventually replied.

“It shouldn’t have to be,” Lily pointed out, but she sighed, knowing that this was a pointless battle. But she felt the need to bring it up whenever she noticed James discard you like that. She felt guilt. Both of you knew that the girl who was most often on his mind, was Lily.

Lily had finally given James a chance in their third year after a good two and a half years of James’ advances. Having outgrown James and the marauders’ childishness and bullying, specifically after the ‘Snape incident’, she’d broken up with him only three months in, leaving him devastated. You had been his friend, mostly through Sirius and Lily, and you had found him in the common room, disheveled from crying, so you had comforted him.

Something inside James had felt a pull towards you then. A sense of comfort or familiarity no doubt reminiscent of Lily, and his mind had been set on you. Of course, you had rejected his advances for over a year, absolutely appalled by his seemingly quick recovery from his breakup. And so another year would pass.

You hadn't even seen it coming. You didn't have a romantic interest in James, until you did. All of the sudden, you found yourself in love with James Potter. Not that you would ever admit that, of course. No, you remained steadfast in your resolve to keep things platonic, as the mere idea felt like a betrayal of your friendship to Lily.

But Lily had noticed of course. You had looked away ashamedly while assuring her that you were sure that it was just a fleeting crush, something that would blow over soon. Instead of judgment, her face expressed understanding and compassion as she encouraged you to stop pushing your feelings aside, going as far as calling James over, effectively starting your relationship for you.

And now, she watched as James treated her closest friend like crap.

“How about we head down in advance,” you suggested, dusting off your Hogwarts robe.

“Yeah, about time, don’t you think?” You peered over the stairs to see Marlene with her hands on her hips in a waiting manner.

“Hey guys, what are you doing here,” you laughed as Alice dragged herself up the last few steps to stand next Marlene.

“Picking you up of course, the guys are all waiting outside.”

Your heart warmed at the thought. Of course your friends would never have left you waiting by yourself to no avail. With a fond feeling, you and your friends descended the stairs again to go to Hogsmeade.

Sirius was sitting on the ground, knees propped up while they were waiting for the girls. He twirled his wand between his fingers. “Why are we going with McKinnon and such again?”

Remus next to him shrugged his shoulders. “They invited us, I think.”

Peter shuffled his feet uncomfortable. “Alice was inviting Lily and James invited himself and us.”

James grinned widely. “I mean, how awesome is it to go in a big group?” He enthusiastically asked. It was a rhetorical question, but Remus still felt the need to respond. “That’s great and all, but I thought you were going with Y/N?”

James blinked once and then twice. He jumped up from his leaning position against the wall. “Shit.”

Sirius burst out in laughter and threw his head back, hitting his a little too hard against the wall. “Oh Prongs, you crack me up,” he shook his head. “And you say that I am the worst at being in a relationship,” he huffed. James didn’t have time for finding the humor in this situation though.

He started to pace around. He completely forgot to tell you, he realized. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to go find her,” he quickly made up his mind.

“Find who?”

James’ head whipped around to find Alice and Marlene looking at him curiously. Trailing a few steps behind them were you and Lily, engrossed in a conversation about the book you were holding.

“Your girlfriend perhaps?” Marlene tilted her head innocently, but every fool could see the warning look in her eyes. “Don’t worry, we’ve got her back.”

You and Lily finally caught up to the group. “Hey,” you awkwardly waved, relieved when Remus and Peter threw you a smile, and Sirius got up to pat you a little too hard on the back, making you stumble a little. You smacked him in return, but a friendly laugh on your face. “I will hex you Sirius,” you threatened half-heartedly.

“Not with James’ wand, you’re not,” he replied and nodded towards the wand in your pocket. You huffed. “Well I don’t need a wand, I can beat you up with my bare hands,” you joked. Sirius took a step back to scan you up and down. “Not with those arms, you’re not,” he grinned.

Something tugged inside James, and he surged forward to catch your attention. “Y/N, how was your class?”

You frowned, but before you could answer, Remus spoke up. “She didn’t have class today, Prongs,” he remarked.

You nodded in confirmation but held up your book. “I read this book instead.” James instantly recognized the book “Little Women”, one of Lily’s favorites.

“That’s a nice book,” he airily commented. Your brows shot up. “You’ve read this book?” James nodded. “Well, I listened to it, you could read it to me if you want sometime. I mean, Lily-“

“I knew you would never willingly read a book,” Sirius interrupted him suddenly. And Lily shot Sirius an appreciative look. James quickly looked away. Right. He quickly glanced at you, to see if you had noticed the way he had almost mentioned when Lily would read to him on date nights. If you had noticed anything, you didn’t seem to show it.

James offered his arm, and you tucked the book under your arm before linking the other with his. “What fine weather, do you not agree, Milady?” James exaggerated in a posh accent.

You laughed and looked up at the sky. The sky was covered in dark clouds, and it looked like it could rain any given moment. “Why the weather certainly is… weathering,” you managed with a covered grin.

You handed him his wand from earlier this morning. “And you forgot this in the library,” you added. James twirled it around and the wand disappeared up his sleeve. “Is that why you were calling out to me, darling?”

“So you heard me?”

James’ heart skipped a beat, and he racked his mind to find a suitable reply. A lie. “Well, Peter did, but we were already gone,” he managed to excuse himself. You frowned a little and looked back at Peter who couldn’t look you in the eyes and you sighed.

“You heard me,” you repeated, and your grip on his arm was loosening. He felt you letting go and quickly adjusted himself, grabbing your hand instead. “You’re right, I heard you. I’m really sorry I didn’t wait for you,” he admitted. He brought your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it.

“Okay.”

When you arrived at the Three Broomsticks, James expertly pulled back a chair for you. “Just a butterbeer?” he asked. You nodded in response, but you hadn’t said much to him anymore and James frowned at the lack of your enthusiasm. When he returned with everyone’s order he sat down to your right, with Lily to your left. “Tadah,” he said, and he held up an extra package of sugar triumphantly.

“Merlin, I still can’t believe you drink butterbeer with extra sugar,” Sirius fake gagged. You kicked his leg under the table. “I just like sweet things,” you stuck out your tongue. “Besides, why are you not saying anything about Moony, he is literally crumbling pieces of chocolate in it right now.”

Sirius snapped his neck to Remus who looked up flustered. “Hey, why are you attacking me,” he complained.

James grabbed your mug and quickly sipped away the foam on top that you disliked and dumped the sugar into the mug. “There you go, on the house,” he proudly said. Your heart filled with fondness, and you appreciatively sipped from your drink.

James leaned in. “I love you,” he whispered, and he pressed a kiss to your temple, succeeding in making you flustered. “I’m in love with you too,” you mumbled back.

Gryffindor had won their first Quidditch match of the season and naturally, they threw a party in the common room. You had wanted to go when Remus and Peter had invited you, but James and piped up. “No, she doesn’t like those things. Too loud,” he confidently said, absolutely assuming.

“I like parties though?” you replied. You wanted to hang out with James and the marauders, and you were not scared of disagreeing with James. James looked at you with an unreadable expression. “Oh, well obviously you can come if you want. I just didn’t expect you to want to be among loud drunk people,” he recovered.

“What if she is one of the loud drunk people,” Sirius remarked from behind James. “Just because Li-“ James elbowed him in the stomach and Sirius groaned.

Perhaps it would have been wiser of you not to go. Maybe you should’ve been a little more like Lily, who had stayed in the dorms, snacking and reading. It sure would’ve hurt less.

“You will never compare to her.”

All you could manage was a  bitter smile. James looked defiantly at you, but his eyes seemed to find it difficult to find focus. Your throat tightened and you tried to swallow, but still couldn’t find an adequate response to James’ hurtful words.

“I know that, James,” you eventually wryly replied. Of course you knew that, despite your attempts to be a better girlfriend by being more like Lily. You cleared your throat and furiously blinked away tears that threatened to show the impact of his words.

“You should go get some sleep,” you murmured, and you tried to coax him into laying down on his bed, desperately trying to ignore the issue at hand. Perhaps if you paid it no mind, you could pass this off as nothing more than a drunken insult that you could pretend never happened.

But James doubled down.

“You will never compare to her,”  he repeated. This time he added some emphasis as well. You inhaled sharply. His words were no longer slurred, and his eyes seemed to bore right into yours. You’ve never felt so small in your life, your skin crawled uncomfortably as time passed in silence. You frowned deeply now and stared out the window behind James. What were you supposed to do with this information? It wasn’t new, but it was the first time the words had outright left his mouth.

You looked him back in his eyes. “Okay. I’m going to go and get you a glass of water for a hangover,” you slowly spoke up, trying to keep your voice calm. “Don’t forget you said this. I want you to remember that you said this because I need you to apologize for it when I get back, James.”

James groaned; his headache started to get worse. “Fine, go, but don’t come back today, I’ve had enough. And I won’t apologize tomorrow either.” James turned around a faced his back towards you. He was drifting off. “You’ll forgive me anyway, you always do. It’s the one thing you’ve got.” He mumbled. “At least you’re easier than her.”

 Your face burned in embarrassment; your eyes shifted across the room as if trying to make sure no one had heard him. How long could you hold back your tears to keep your dignity, you wondered. Would you at least make it all the way to your own dorms?

“Okay,” you resigned shakily with a nod, slowly getting up while staring at his back. “I won’t be back.”

His breaths seemed to slow down to a steady pace, and you knew he had fallen asleep. Your arms hung defeatedly next to your body and your hand tapped your leg restlessly before reaching for your wand. You murmured a spell on the glass of water on his bedside. It would help him with his hangover tomorrow, and it would be the last act of affection you would direct at him, you decided.

You closed the door behind you and quickly untucked your hair from behind your ears, letting it cover your face. The path back to your own dormitory seemed longer than usual, each step weighed down by the burden of uncertainty.

You passed Remus in a hurry, who seemed to look at you in a concerned manner. Remus turned his head to see Sirius looking worried as well.

James stared at the ceiling. Against his own wishes, he remembered yesterday evening crystal clear. He frowned as he closed his eyes and sunk deeper into his matrass.

Of course he felt bad about what he said, but you were in so many ways like Lily. From the strange muggle expressions you had picked up from her, to your mannerisms, like the way Lily laughed with a hand in front of her mouth to cover her teeth, to your handwriting. Though he knew it wasn’t fair to you, it was so easy to compare you. If anything, it was difficult not to do so. But he was sure he loved you regardless.

You never left James’ mind as he got ready to head downstairs to the great hall. He should apologize to you, James figured. He walked over to his bed and downed the glass of water on his bedside. He laughed somewhat fondly to himself when his mind cleared up immediately. You had enchanted it, he realized. So how angry could you possibly really be, this time.

Feeling rather confident, James headed towards the Great Hall. The Hogwarts Great Hall buzzed with the usual morning chatter as students filed in for breakfast.

As he scanned the room, his eyes found you sitting beside Lily at the Gryffindor table. There was something different about your smile, a subtle sadness that didn't escape James' notice. He felt a pang of guilt wash over him, knowing he was the cause of your distress.

Lily, ever perceptive, shot James a cold look before nodding toward the empty seat next to her. James approached cautiously, unsure of how to navigate the tension that hung in the air.

"Thanks, Lily," he offered gratefully, though the discomfort in the atmosphere was palpable. Lily didn’t spare him a glance and got up. “I’ll wait for you outside,” she smiled encouragingly. She clasped her hands together and nodded at you before leaving. James stared at Lily.

You cleared your throat, drawing James' attention fully to you. His heart skipped a beat as he caught sight of your determined expression.

"You look dashingly beautiful today, darling," James remarked, hoping to lighten the mood with his usual charm.

But you met his gaze head-on, your resolve unwavering. "I'm not going to be the one you settle for," you declared firmly, your words sending a chill down James' spine.

Confusion clouded James' features as he struggled to comprehend your words. "Wait, darling, come on," he pleaded, reaching out to grasp your hand gently.

You pulled away; your tone was unwavering. "I'm not joking around, James. To me, we ended yesterday," you asserted, your voice steady. James felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, realizing the gravity of the situation. That this wasn’t a joke or a call for an apology. An apology wouldn’t fix this, he realized. How could he fix this? James’ mind raced.

"Yesterday- What? If it's about what I said, I was just drunk," he protested weakly, desperation creeping into his voice.

You sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and resignation. "You literally doubled down twice, James. Well, it doesn't matter anymore, but I wanted to close this off properly. That's it," you explained, placing your knife and fork on your plate, and pushing it to the middle of the table, where it magically vanished towards the kitchen. You rose from your seat.

James reached out to stop you, his words tumbling out in a rush. "Y/N, I swear, I was drunk. And I love you," he confessed, his heart was pounding in his chest. He felt his friends look at him in pity and he understood that they had already been filled in the situation.

But your resolve remained unshaken. "Yeah, I'm sure you love a certain part of me," you muttered under your breath, forcing a smile onto your lips. "Look, we can stay friends, yeah? You're a nice guy, James. And a damn good friend too, I just don’t think you were ever ready for another relationship," you concluded.

James was stunned by your resolve, unsure of how to respond, just feeling defeat. He could see that you had closed off. Trying to maintain some dignity, he nodded in acceptance. "Okay.” He whispered quietly.

“Well then, I guess I'll see you later," you managed to say, as you awkwardly nodded, catching yourself as your hands were mid-air, ready to clasp together the same manner Lily always announced her leave. Instead, you awkwardly held two thumbs up before turning on your heels.

As you walked away from James, a whirlwind of emotions churned within you. On one hand, your heart ached with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings and heartbreak. You had been so in love with James.

On the other hand, somewhere deep down, you knew that the only way to get him to keep wanting you, was by imitating the girl he actually wanted. You had let so many things pass, not wanting to break up with James. But you’d done it. It was over. And you almost felt guilty for feeling so relieved.

Taglist: Some of the tags didn't want to work so sorry if you didn't make the list, the rest will be in a reblog

@mellowarcadefun @marauderssimpthings @tortured-artists @kazimierasm @ssc7514 @ietss @chieffanfun @narcissuspetal @jamesweather @nyrasunderwrld

@joeytribbiani18 @rafeslovergirl @peacheerries @littlenerdybee @anglfclulu @folksmione @daisydark @moonys0chocolate @fearlessmoony @vcosette

@moonyslibrary98 @poetsneil @olivshe @ihatethinkingofnames10 @petparkr @iamlizardgod @ttkttt @rosieandthethorns @eedwardss @meepmoopmopsworld

@xcinnamonmalfoyx @k0la22 @quackitysdrugdealer @lovelyteenagebeard @padf00ts-l0ver @littlemisslovestoread @queerqueenlynn @dot-erdana-blog @siimplyalea @stilesks

@daisiesformylove @lixzey @uwiuwi @jeansworld16 @v-loves-frogs @liv2post @nokkoongie @tylerstacobell @momdisappointment @jasminesacademia

[kitten4sannie]

ᴄʀᴀᴢʏ ꜰᴏʀᴍ | ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ

pairing: dilf! san x boytoy! wooyoung x fem! reader

genre: smut <3

summary: you search for a rebound at your local club after a break up. the club owner and his favorite boyfriend are there to satisfy your needs.

w.c: 3.3k

warnings: daddy dom kinda switch! san (almost chewed my fingers off writing him like this trust), dom! wooyoung (he’s kinda passively there when it comes to reader but i promise he’ll be more prominent in part two~), subby good girl! reader, woosan, alcohol use, reader is not drunk but sufficiently tipsy, daddy kink, dirty talk, pet names (angel, princess, pretty girl, etc), teasing, possessiveness, praise, voyeurism/exhibitionism, body worship, grinding, kissing, marking, fingering, double? blowjob? idk (san gets head while giving it too oop-) , deep-throating, slight hair pulling, snowballing

a/n: hii guess who’s back from the dead just in time for the cb? <3 and i brought a present ~ a naughty one hehe :3 the inspo came from those pics above bc they look so expensive and cunty and so yummy ugh and THEN san decided to strip at the mama awards and now i’m ILL and ready to howl at the moon anyways !!this is out of pocket like usual and i put my whole kitty into it okayyy so i hope you enjoy and pls lemme know if you’re excited for part two >< <33

song rec: incubator by ph-1, gun by doja cat, wine pon you also by doja cat feat. konshens (every time i hear the last part it reminds me of san’s dance cover hnnnnhgg)

“Girl, you better slow down on that drink,” the woman sitting beside you at the bar warned, resting her forearms down on the cool surface of the sleek marble countertop, continuing to watch you slurp down a long island iced tea. “I’m not about to hold your hair up for you later.”

“Can you leave me alone? I’m grieving over here, god,” you whined to her with your straw still in between your pouting, quivering lips, your eyes brimming with tears. “And for the record, he broke up with me over text. Text.”

She shook her head. “You are not about to cry over a man right now.”

You pushed your empty glass away, before dramatically pointing a finger into your chest, causing the strap of your dress to droop down your shoulder a bit. “You’re right, but I can still be a mess if I want to, thank you very much.”

“Well, you’re certainly achieving that,” she stated, idly sipping on her own drink, looking you up and down until you felt like you had to prove something to her.

“Okay, fuck this,” you muttered, pushing yourself off of the barstool and pulling your dress down where it was beginning to rise up near your ass, sniffling a bit.

“Where are you going?”

Pulling out a small tube from the v-neck of your dress to apply a fresh coat of lip gloss, you smacked your lips together and motioned your hand to the vast amounts of sweaty, drunk people grinding on each other on the opposite side of the club. “I’m gonna get some rebound dick. Don’t wait up.”

The woman smiled to herself as she watched you disappear into the sea of people, still just sipping on her drink. Little did you know, someone else was already waiting for you in that crowd. And they came as a package deal.

-

“I want her, Sannie,” Wooyoung chimed to the older man that was sitting beside him on the comfy VIP couch, the man’s arm wrapped protectively around his waist. The younger man took a finger off of his fruity drink to point at the woman that was feeling herself up with her body pressed to an unnamed man on the dance floor across from them, charmed by the unbothered, almost melancholic expression imprinted on her flushed face, like she was just waiting for someone like them to take care of her, to make her pretty face flush for a different reason.

San followed Wooyoung’s manicured nail until it led to the sight of you, a few wrinkles etched into his skin near his lips and where his eyes creased with amusement. “Mmm. Shall I leave you to your own devices then? Daddy can watch you seduce that pretty girl from here, can’t he?” His smile deepened when Wooyoung shifted beside him, his thigh pressing into San’s larger one, knowing his plaything was already getting hot under the collar. San held Wooyoung’s chin between his ringed fingers, leaning in to murmur, “And you’ll be a good boy and bring her to me once you get her nice and wet, won’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Wooyoung replied breathily, barely getting his words out when the man pulled him in for a heated kiss.

Just when Wooyoung began to lean into him, his hands resting on San’s leather-bound chest, the older man broke the kiss, wiping the other’s saliva from his mouth. “Get going, naughty boy.”

Despite being dizzy with need, Wooyoung nodded, obediently nodding as he stood up from the couch. He fixed his hair and checked his makeup, before heading into the sea of sweaty, lust-drunk people to find you.

You were almost too busy rolling your body along to the hypnotic flow of the house track that was bumping through the speakers around you to notice the warmth of someone else pulling you near him, his hand sliding onto the small of your back and his lips against your ear, goosebumps forming across your skin.

“Can I steal you away?” Wooyoung whispered in a low voice, smiling at your slow nod, your eyes practically dilating at the sight of him. You didn’t know angels frequented night clubs. That was news to you. The both of you silently watched as his veiny hands slowly slid onto your hips, his fingers squeezing into them just enough to make you shiver.

He brought you back against him with a gentleness that made you a little weak in the knees, moving his hips against yours, guiding you against his body to the pulsing beats of the song.

Desperate to be needed by the obscenely attractive stranger, you took it upon yourself to grind back against him, feeling his cock harden against your ass through his satin pants.

“Fuck, baby, don’t you know what’ll happen if you keep doing that?” he exhaled into your ear, his fingers moving down slightly to squeeze your thighs.

You turned your head back to meet his searing gaze, licking your lips, your eyelids lowering. “What’s going to happen?”

Glancing to the side to make sure San was still watching, which he was, with a hand clutching his upper thigh, Wooyoung looked back to you, his hands moving further outwards to feel the sides of your ass, encouraging your dress to move up little by little, replying, “We’ll have to play with you, angel.”

“Yes, please,” you breathed out, resting your head against his chest, allowing him to feel up your body, his hands groping along your abdomen to your tits, the cogs inside your head moving at a slower rate than usual. “Wait…did you just say…we’ll?” Just as you spoke, Wooyoung reached around to grasp your chin and guide it to the side, allowing you to spot the fiery-headed gentleman manspreading on the VIP couch across from you, his heated gaze alone making you throb. “Isn’t…that the guy who owns this place?”

“Mm, he owns a lot of things. You see, darling, even though I want you all to myself–” Wooyoung squeezed his hands around your barely clothed tits through your dress, making you moan. “San doesn’t like it when I don’t share with him.” His hands slowly moved down your front to your clothed cunt, feeling your wetness coat his fingers when he rubbed them against your clothed slit. All you could focus on was the way San shifted around on the couch, his hands gripping his thighs like his body was aching to be free from his tight ensemble, Wooyoung’s upcoming offer barely getting processed in your hazy brain. “Do you wanna meet him?”

One single nod was all it took for Wooyoung to take your hand with a knowing smile on his pretty face, like he could already tell what was about to go down that night, before guiding you past the crowd, the bouncers, and directly up to San, who was eagerly waiting your arrival.

As soon as you stepped foot into the exclusive lounge, the visual of the older man had your already weak knees ready to buckle underneath you now that you could see him up close. He was dressed head to toe in sleek, expensive leather. The top only had two buttons to support his front, his broad chest on full display for you to drool over. Your eyes eventually followed upwards until you got to his obscenely handsome face, his sharp, feline-like features bathed in the club’s sinful red lighting. Then, of course, the nail in the coffin was the dimpled smile he offered you, one that was so inviting that you didn’t realize you were being drawn to him like a moth to a burning flame.

“That’s right, go ahead and get nice and comfortable on my lap, sweetheart,” his words, sweet like honey, melted off his tongue in a low drawl, his limbs wrapping around you as soon as you sat down on his lap, resting one hand comfortably on your thigh, his other reaching up to play with your hair. “What brought you here tonight? To my pretty boy? To me?”

You gently hooked an arm around his neck to keep yourself upright, gazing at Wooyoung who sat beside you both on the couch, his fingers rubbing gentle circles around one of your ankles, before turning your head to look at the older man, trying to keep bad memories from flooding your brain.

San gently twirled your hair around his finger, urging in a deep, comforting voice, “Let it out. Don’t be afraid, princess.”

Your brain offered you a pleasant fuzziness instead. “I…had a bad breakup…I just really wanted to come here, get my back blown out, and forget about it all, you know?”

Wooyoung stifled a cackle, while San’s lower lip jutted out in a pout, his hand splaying across your upper thigh, slowly rubbing it up and down. “Poor angel. I bet he never made you feel needed, huh?” You mirrored his pout, shaking your head. “I can make you feel needed, baby. Do you want that?” A nod this time, your breath caught in your throat. San leaned in, pressing his lips to your warm cheek, murmuring, “Then, let Daddy take care of you, alright?”

And just like that, there were no rules anymore. No regulations. No holding back. Just you, two strangers, and a club full of people that couldn’t care less about what you were doing. San still held you in his lap, your trembling legs just barely spread open enough to allow his hand in between them, rubbing his thick digits against your cunt through your soaked panties, while Wooyoung had a front row seat. “Is it good for you, baby? Or do you want more?”

“More,” you exhaled, about to say something when San squeezed your clit roughly, making you gasp.

“More, what, princess?” San leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, whispering against them, “What’s my name?”

“More, Daddy,” you corrected yourself, just as San’s ringed fingers moved past your panties and slipped right inside you up to the knuckle, filling you up just enough to make your brain go fuzzy.

Wooyoung moaned just when you did, biting his lip at the sight of San’s veins popping out when he began to pump his fingers in and out of your squelching hole. “Fuck, that’s so hot…she’s so wet, Daddy…”

“She is, isn’t she?” San agreed, curling his fingers inside you until he hit the spot that made you drool, his lips suddenly latching onto your neck to leave his mark behind on your skin so you could remember exactly what you did when you woke up the next morning. “Look at you, taking my fingers in your tight little cunt like this. Such a good girl.”

“Uh-huh,” you could barely verbalize, whining at his words, clenching around his digits. You could barely focus on anything else except for the older man’s thick fingers stretching you out, his rings offering you a pleasure you didn’t realize you needed in your life, though Wooyoung’s warm hands on your thighs and gentle smile kept you from getting too lost in the moment.

However, San was in the same boat as you, his trapped, throbbing cock already leaking so much pre-cum that he was about to lose it, encouraging him to suggest, “Mm, but you need Daddy’s cock, don’t you?” He watched you give him a weak nod, knowing you were on the edge of orgasming from the way your body began to lock up. “I should just fuck you dumb right here for everyone to see. Have you make a big mess on this couch. It’s my club, after all. Why shouldn’t I do what I want?” He sped up the pace, practically pounding his fingers into your cunt, your arousal leaking down your shaking thighs, continuing to dispel filthy words for only you and his boytoy to hear. “Fuck, they’ll enjoy seeing a pretty thing like you fall apart on my lap, won’t they? See this cunt of yours stretch around my cock and take my cum inside. Mmm. See the way I make you mine.”

Everything was too much. The crowded room. The possibility of someone’s eyes on you. San’s filthy words. His fingers jammed inside your soaked cunt. Wooyoung’s unwavering gaze, his hands squeezing into your thighs. The unrelenting pleasure coursing through your body. You ended up cumming so hard, you saw stars, not even realizing San was silencing your pleasured cries until you felt his lips on yours and his tongue push into your open mouth. Just as San pulled away, Wooyoung took his place, tasting the alcohol on your tongue, before gently tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth.

“Should we go to your office now, Sannie?” Wooyoung asked the older man, his hooded eyes flitting between San’s and yours, neither of you even having to speak another word before you all got up from the couch.

-

“Whoa,” you murmured to yourself, looking around the expansive room, the interior matching the rest of the sleek club. Aside from the small computer desk setup in the corner, there was a large bed with satin sheets that took up a good portion of the room, but most of your attention was on the mirrors that were perfectly positioned on either side of the bed, as well as the ceiling. “Mirrors?”

“Sannie likes to watch himself,” Wooyoung giggled, rubbing the small of your back in comforting circles, leading you to the bed alongside San who sat down on the edge of it, looking up to you and Wooyoung who stood behind you, running his hands along your sides up to your shoulders, before taking hold of the zipper of your dress.

“I like to watch pretty angels like you come undone too. Watch the lust take over you until you’re covered in sweat and cum,” San mused, gazing into your eyes until Wooyoung slowly pulled the straps of your dress down, the both of them watching it fall from your body. Groaning, San began to mirror Wooyoung’s actions, unbuttoning his blazer, then pulling it off and revealing an expanse of smooth tan skin, the muscles in his arms flexing as he began to unbuckle his pants. Once San’s pants hit the floor and his thick, veiny cock sprung up, you found yourself sinking down to your knees, your mouth watering at the sight of pre-cum dribbling down the man’s reddened cockhead. “What do you want, princess? Tell me.”

“Your cock,” you requested immediately, settling your hands on his strong thighs. “In my mouth, please.”

“Ahh…?” San tilted his head to the side, his eyebrows raising up slightly.

“Daddy,” you replied swiftly, leaning in to rub your cheek against his hot, throbbing length, pouting, licking at the pre-cum that dripped onto your face. “Please.”

“Good girl. So dirty for me. Aren’t I a lucky man?” San let out a satisfied sigh, reaching down to wrap a good amount of your hair around his fist, holding it in a ponytail so that he could see your face, before sliding his cock into the hot, slick haven that was your mouth and throat. “That’s it, suck it nice and hard, princess. Show me how much you like having Daddy’s cock in your mouth.”

You reciprocated, throating his cock the best you could, choking and gagging occasionally, digging your fingers into his thighs.

“Mmm, there you go. You’re so good for me, angel. Don’t stop, okay?” San praised, closing his eyes, gripping your hair, slowly thrusting himself into your open mouth, delighted by the lewd sounds of your moans and the squelching sounds coming from your throat. Once he felt Wooyoung’s fingers slide into his hair and grip it, San looked up, watching Wooyoung lift one leg up onto the edge of the bed, the younger man’s eyes full of hunger.

Finally getting your throat to relax completely, you simply continued to take San’s cock in your throat, having to blink the remaining tears away to see San clearly — though nothing could prepare you for the sight of Wooyoung guiding San’s head downwards, his twitching cock disappearing inside San’s willing mouth.

“Fuck, it feels so hot,” Wooyoung panted, a bit of drool leaving his plump lips, thrusting deeper until he entered San’s throat, the older man’s groans vibrating onto Wooyoung’s balls each time they touched his chin. “Daddy acts so big and bad all the time, but he just loves getting cock rammed down his throat, huh?”

Wooyoung knew him so well. That’s why he was his favorite, well, aside from the angel that was taking him to heaven with only her mouth. San reached up with his free hand to massage Wooyoung’s balls, guiding his mouth along the younger man’s cock himself, sucking him off like he was made for it, like he always did.

Letting go of San’s hair to touch his own body, shuddering at all the pleasure at his disposal, Wooyoung gazed down at you, watching you obediently take San’s cock, the man’s hand still wrapped up in your hair and tugging at it. “Look at you go. You look so pretty when your mouth’s stuffed with cock, angel. You’re gonna make my Daddy cum so hard for you, huh?”

Squeezing your thighs together around your hand that was playing with your dripping cunt, you nodded your head, swearing you were about to cum just from what was happening around you, knowing San was in a similar place from the way he started to involuntarily buck his hips up into your mouth.

“Don’t swallow and save some for me, baby, okay? Don’t be stingy,” Wooyoung reminded you in a strained, breathy voice, almost falling over from the way San gripped one side of his hips, a string of obscenities falling from his lips when the man forcefully drove his throbbing cock into his hot throat, about to see god herself when San’s throat began constricting around his length like a pussy would. “Fuck, gonna cum, Sannie.”

San pulled back, a few thick strings of saliva connecting his swollen lips to Wooyoung’s dripping tip, his hand closing around the base to jerk him off. “Cum on Sannie’s face, will you? Make a big fucking mess for me.”

Wooyoung whined and panted, San’s slick hand moving quickly along his length, trying not to choke on his spit and moans, barely able to stay upright, but thankfully San had a good grip on his hips.

San looked down at you, licking the saliva from his lips, pulling out just enough so that his thick cockhead rested on your tongue. “Are you going to take this load? Hmm? Want it?”

“Yes, fuck, Daddy, please give it to me,” you begged, panting heavily, your fingers about to slip out of you from how fast you were moving them.

“Oh god, here it comes, angel,” San groaned out, squeezing around the base of Wooyoung’s cock, making him let out a broken, high-pitched whine.

Your combined pleasure came rocketing up to an intense peak, sending the three of you into a mindnumbing state of ecstasy. Thick, hot spurts of liquid came raining down on San’s face, just as his load shot out onto your tongue and down your throat, your own release soaking into the velvet carpet underneath you.

Fading out of reality during the majority of your high, your ears ringing, it took you a minute to realize that someone’s mouth was on yours, their fingers cupping your face. Opening your glossy eyes, you watched in a daze as Wooyoung took his sweet time slurping San’s cum off of your tongue.

San gripped Wooyoung’s hair and brought his head back, parting his lips and allowing Wooyoung to shovel his own cum into his mouth, swallowing it down with a low, pleased groan.

Pleased with the sin that was taking place in front of you, you took it upon yourself to drag your tongue across San’s chiseled jaw to his cheek, collecting some of Wooyoung’s release into your mouth, only to press your lips to his, letting him taste himself. Wooyoung moaned into your mouth, deepening the kiss, until San pulled you away from each other.

“Haven’t had enough, you two?” San chuckled, running a hand through his sweaty hair.

“No~ Not after that,” you giggled, rubbing your cheek against San’s palm when he caressed it.

Wooyoung wrapped his arms around you, looking at San with a sweet smile, his long eyelashes fluttering. “Can we keep her, Daddy? I promise I’ll take good care of her.”

Little wrinkles formed near San’s eyes once he smiled at you. “I suppose so.”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2023.

[spidernuggets]

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Late Jason birthday fic!!!!

MDNI

warnings: jason devouring reader's poosay

You and Jason have been dating just under a year. And today was the first time celebrating with him the day he dreaded the most. His birthday.

If he HAD to celebrate it with his family, he'd want a small get-together, sharing his special day with Alfred.

NOT this damn gala that Bruce organised, seemingly just to spite him. Bruce excused that it was mainly for Alfred, but since they shared the special day, Jason had to be there, too. Now Jason feared the most; being surrounded by rich assholes, half-heartedly wishing him a happy birthday.

But you seemed excited to finally celebrate his birthday with him, and seeing you so eager made Jason's heart swell. He's just gonna have to suck it up and put on his big boy pants and go.

"You ready, baby?" Jason asked, coming into your room. The second he sees you in that damn black dress, complimented with red, he thinks he's lost it. He couldn't even take his eyes off the long slit of the dress that revealed a glimpse of your thigh. If you didn't answer him, he'd think he'd forget how to breathe because, oh, how you were breathtaking.

"Mhm, let me just put my shoes on." You say, taking his arm and leading him to the front door where your black heels with red outsoles laid.

"Is you being all dolled up my birthday present, sweetness?" Jason asked, a sly smirk on his face as he holds onto your waist, helping you balance as you put your heels on.

You chuckled. "It can be if you want it to be. But my actual present for you will be given later." You said, kissing his cheek. "C'mon, let's go."

Jason leads you to his car, and on the drive to the manor, it takes all his willpower not to let his hand that laid on your thigh sneak under the slit and inch up higher.

You held onto Jason arm as he led you into the manor. You expected big, but god, everything and everyone looked so extravagant.

You caught a glimpse of Alfred standing near Bruce and your eyes light up.

"C'mon, Jay!" You said excitedly, tugging him towards where the two men were standing. Jason groans, knowing he'd have to talk to Bruce, but on the other hand, he does want to wish his grandfather a hapoy birthday.

"Happy birthday, Alfie!" You exclaimed, giving the old man a hug before giving him a little bag that contained your gift for him.

He thanks you, telling you that you didn't have ti, but highly appreciates the sentiment. Jason offers a small smile and a quiet, happy birthday before giving him a hug.

"Glad you can come, Jason." Bruce said with a satisfied smile.

"I didn't come here because you told me to or because I felt like it." Jason huffs, looking away.

"Many people have been expecting you." Alfred said.

"And they have gifts." Bruce added. "I expect you to behave. But I don't doubt that she will keep you in check." He said, nodding towards you. You snickered in response while Jason just rolled his eyes, taking your hand, pulling you away from them.

You stayed beside Jason, watching as he uncomfortably mingled with the party guests, giving him his birthday presents.

It started fine. Totally fine. It was nice seeing Jason receiving such nice gifts.

But the more you witnessed him opening the presents, the more self-conscious you got about the gift you have yet to give him.

His given presents consisted of gold cufflinks, finest champagne, designer clothing, luxury cologne, fancy watches, and so much more. You couldn't even think about how much these things could've cost.

"You okay, sweetheart?" Jason murmurs, whispering in your ear as he tilts your chin up to look at him. You were so lost in thought, you didn't even realise Jason was complaining to you how much he wanted to go home.

You nodded with a small smile. "Mhm. Little overwhelmed, I guess." You said, clinging onto his arm.

"Maybe another hour, ma. Then we can go home." He assured you, kissing your forhead.

And it does assure you. He loves you. And he'd love the gift you have in store for him. But still. You're unable to scratch the utch in your head from all the expensive gifts he's receiving.

You sighed, kicking your shoes off, flopping back onto the bed once the two of you returned home. Following Jason around and watching him open gifts can be exhausting.

Jason shrugs his jacket off, throwing it somewhere on the floor, lying beside you. "So. You gonna give me a gift now or continue to keep me on my toes?" He asked with a grin.

You fidget with your hands, picking at your cuticles. "Mm.. can you wait til tomorrow?" You said sheepishly. Maybe you can wake up before him and rush out to the nearest jewellers and get him a nice watch or something.

His brows pinch together with concern, watching the dejected look on your face. He props himself up on one of his elbows, his fave looming over yours.

"What's with the sour look, sour puss?" He teases, poking your nose. "What's wrong?"

You sighed, looking at him. "Nothing. Just tired." You muttered.

"Bullshit.." He murmured, lowering himself down to nuzzle his nose against your jaw, his lips just barely grazing your skin.

You lightly groan. "You got really nice gifts." You said with embarrassment.

He pulls away, his face scrunched up in confusion. "Wanna elaborate, sweet thing?"

You whined with frustration, rubbing your hands over your face. "All your gifts were just so... lavish. Just wait til tomorrow, I can get a better gift."

"Baby." Jason said firmly. "Let me see your gift."

You frowned, knowing he'd pry and pry until he saw your gift. You grumbled, getting uo to reach underneath your bed, pulling out a small decorative paper bag, handing it to him.

Jason carefully took it, like he was scared that his big, rough hands would break the delicate material. He opened the bag, digging through the red shredded tissue paper.

His eyes slightly widened as he pulled out a bookmark. It had a thin gold frame, the bookmark itself having a coloured silhouette of what looked like you and Jason, and in intricate writing, the quote "you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you," written above the silhouettes.

"Holy shit..." Jason whispered as his fingers traced the fragile details of the gold frame.

You grumbled, not even wanting to think what he thought of it. "Jay, I promise I'll get you a better gif—"

"No!" He suddenly said, bringing the bookmark close to his chest. "I love this..." He whispered, staring at you with a wide grin.

"What? Really? It was only like 30 bucks.." You muttered, looking down at your lap.

He scoffed. "So? Who cares?"

"What!? But.. all your other presents—"

"Were shallow and thoughtless and were from snobby assholes who don't even know my name." He interrupted, carefully placing his bookmark on the nightstand before gently cupping your cheek. "But this gift, the one you're so worked up about..." He carefully pulls you on his lap. "Is the best I've received tonight." He kissed your forhead. "My favourite gift." He kissed your nose. "From my favourite girl." He kissed your lips.

You frowned. "But still!" You whined. But he shuts you up with another kiss.

"Not still.." He muttered against your lips. You hated the effect he had on you. You couldn't even argue as you melted against him, your hands lacing together behind his neck.

One of his hands gripped your hip as the other slid up your thigh, through the slit of your dress, just like he wanted to do all night.

Before going further, he laid you on the bed, his hands at either side of your face as he hovered over you.

He leaned down, lips attached to yours once more. This time, it was more sloppy and desperate, your hands pawing at his chest, fiddling with his buttons.

He helped you take his shirt off, throwing it over where his jacket laid as he travelled from your lips down to your jaw, immediately sucking on your sweet spot. You reach up to his hair, tugging it slightly as he groaned, his hips rolling down against yours.

"Fuck.." He muttered, his hands scrunching up the fabric of your dress in his fists. Being the feral man he is, he ripped your dress, the cool breeze nippng your skin making you gasp.

"Jay!" You squealed.

"Shh, I'll buy you another one.." He discarded the ripped dress with the other clothing on the floor.

"Up." He said, hands slithering under your back. You leaned up, letting him unclasp your bra. He cursed, his lips already around your nipple as you moaned, feeling his tongue swirl around it as his other hand was busy massaging your other breast.

"Fuck, sweetheart.." He groaned, his hands continuing to squeeze your chest as he trailed furthed down your body.

He stopped at your clothed core, your panties already soaked. He stretched the lace, letting go, making the elastic snap against your skin. You flinched at the feeling, your face heating up.

Jason gave the damp spot a soft kiss before ripping your underwear off, throwing it behind him. "I like this birthday present too..." He muttered, kissing your inner thigh.

"Jay, please.." You whimpered, bucking your hips up.

"Shh.. patience. Let me enjoy my birthday meal, hm?" He said, lips inching closer to your aching cunt.

"Jay.. Jay, I— Ah!" With no warning, his mouth dived inti your pussy, licking up the dripping precum like a man starved.

"Fuck, ma.." He grunted. You whimpered, your legs shaking, feeling his tongue lap over your folds and his stubble scratching your skin. "Tastes so good..."

You pull his hair, mixed sounds of your whines and squeals together with his tongue buried in your wet cunt filling the room.

You felt your core burning up, and your stomach twisting in knots while your legs shook. You chanted his name like a mantra, your head thrown back into they pillow, back arched, and your hips lifted uo further in his face as you came. Your eyes were shut tight, and you swore you saw stars.

You panted as Jason licked you clean, and when your eyes opened, there were black dots everywhere. Even looking down, seeing Jason's face stuffed between your legs made you feel like cumming again.

Jason hummed, crawling back up, kissing your lips as you tasted yourself.

"Now.." He flipped you two over, so you were straddling his lap. "I know you have another gift for me.." He said as whined, feeling his hard buldge beneath his pants.

okay. lowkey not satisfied with the way i write this but ermmmm... hope yous like it!!!

[obsessedwrhys]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Wolverine x Deadpool x F!Reader

ᯓ★ Being in a polyamory relationship with these two. (A dream inspired this AHAHHA–) fluff, lots of bickering between the two, funny/goofy shit, bit of jealousy/possessiveness, reader is fem!!

This whole relationship is a mess.

I'm talking never getting a moment of peace kind of mess.

For example this one time you drove the Honda Civic.

Nobody understood why you were the one behind the wheels 'cause now you're ramming into everything with Logan grabbing on the handle for dear life while Wade is having the time of his life at the back.

"Stop the damn car before we crash, bub! Yer gonna kill someone!" Logan shouted and at the same time Wade was screaming out the lyrics to "Highway to Hell" by AC/DC.

Did I mention how different these two are with you?

Wade loves it when you run to hug him, he would swing you around a couple of times with your legs wrapped around his waist.

As for Logan, he prefers something less than that. A simple hug is enough and you can't complain much about it because the way he completely engulfs you in his embrace always made your chest flutter.

It's no surprise that they are protective over you.

Like when you were captured by some troops in the void. The fire guy, Johnny Storm, couldn't help but try to flirt with you. He figured why not shoot his shot right?

"Hey..." He'd say, flashing you a cheesy smile.

And seeing his attempt to charm you, you couldn't help but find it amusing and chuckle.

Clearly the two didn't like it.

Which is why that may or may not be the reason why Wade decided to out the man and get him killed 🤷‍♀️ I guess we'll never know 🤔

You and Wade enjoy pulling pranks on Logan.

The sight of him being pissed off pleases you both.

There was this one time you guys swapped his whiskey to a non-alcoholic drink and you can imagine his frustration.

"WADE!!" But he can never get mad at you. He just can't.

Even Wade complains about this privilege of yours.

"Seriously Lo?! You're gonna get mad at me and not our lovely prank partner here? Come on man, we're both guilty parties in this crime scene. If you wanna get angry, at least share the spotlight :("

Cue you sticking your tongue out at Wade as he pouts with puppy dog eyes.

All jokes aside, the two love and support you dearly.

I like to think Logan is more of an old romantic and Wade is the adventurous type.

That's why it can sometimes take a while for them to decide what to get as a present for you.

"Why the fuck would she want a pillowcase with our faces on it?" Logan asked with genuine disgust in his eyes.

"Why wouldn't she?! It's cute as fuck, and you can never have too many pictures of us together. Besides, it's a lot cheaper than buying a life-sized statue of me for her bedroom, although that's an option too, I hear Wolverine-shaped body pillows are all the rage these days" Without realising, he continued on muttering nonsense to himself which had Logan roll his eyes.

"I'm buying her the leather jacket and it's final" Not letting Wade say anything, he'd walk off to the cashier with him left behind. His action causing him to get irritated.

"What about the budget?!?!" He'd raise his voice but Logan simply ignored him. Fed up, he stomps on his feet as he points at his back.

"Fine, you big lug!! I'll let you have your way this time. But don't come crying to me when she dumps us for a pair of more decisive superheroes!!" He'd shout.

In the end you appreciated the gifts you got for your birthday. Each gift speaks for their character.

You guys definitely have lazy days.

Days where you'll lounge around in pajamas and watch cheesy romantic comedies together, complete with a pile of blankets and snacks.

Expect there to be lots of laughter, cringing, and the occasional eye rolling. Not to forget how you three would start making fun of the characters and the cliche plotlines.

Logan clearly struggles to sit through the entire movie marathon and you always have the to be the one to pull his arm to prevent him from leaving.

"Gimme a break, bub. It’s the same damn thing every time— the good guy wins, the bad guy loses. It’s like they think we got the emotional range of a rock"

"Gee, what a buzz kill. But are they wrong though? You practically live like a rock!!" Wade laughed with Logan letting out a scowl.

Thank goodness you're dating them or else they'd be fighting almost all the time.

In the relationship you're the peacemaker

No but seriously Wade calls you that and the nickname has stuck to you.

You enjoy sleeping in the middle with the two on either sides. Half of the time you always wake up with the two fighting over you.

Just imagine Logan pulling you closer to him but before he could even do that, Wade would be quick to pull you back to his embrace despite them both being asleep.

You like to think it's their reflexes. That even when sleeping they're still fighting with each other 😭

However you absolutely adore the two.

Logan will MELT when you kiss his knuckles. Especially when you do it with your eyes locked to his. He will literally go feral for you.

And Wade? He absolutely loveloveloves it when you baby him. It's his guilty pleasure. Hold him close with his face placed against your chest and he swears the voices in his head finally quiets down. That's why you're his angel.

Also, the two really enjoy showering you with kisses. You can barely ever hold back a smile with the two smooching every surface of your face.

Will do anything to get your praise.

The competitiveness is too much.

Oh Logan got you a bouquet? Well Wade got you a bouquet made of tacos. Who's the better one now huh? 😋

To be fair Wade is Wade. There's nothing you can do about it... but that doesn't mean Logan is ever gonna let him get his way.

"Where's Wade?" You'd ask, watching Logan sink on the sofa beside you.

"Don't know... could care less..." He'd say, wrapping an arm around you to snuggle with you. In the other room Wade has been stuffed inside the closet. Completely restrained and duck taped.

All I can say is that dating them is all fun and love. Literal baby girls.

[eczlipse]

“Is that so?” - C.B.

summary : you show up extremely tired to your hot gamer roommates room, Choi Beomgyu.

pairing : annoyed!beomgyu x fem!reader, dom!beomgyu x sub!reader

genre + warnings : irritated!gyu, very dom beomgyu, use of nicknames (mostly jagiya (baby in korean), baby..), riding, unsafe sex. lmk if i missed any!

wc : 2.2k

You returned in your shared dorm from a long week of work and heard Beomgyu playing video games on his computer. He was playing again, and some other voices were present, too; he was chatting with his friends in a Discord call. However, he noticed you pretty quickly and slid his headphones down, looking in your direction.

"Hey. You look tired," He said with a soft chuckle and paused his game. He murmured to his friends he’d be leaving and continued over to you, “I didn't expect you to return this late. I thought we've talked about this already."

“M’Hey Beomgyu.” You whispered a bit, still feeling overwhelmed from your week’s activities.

He let out a scoff as you came back, clearly exhausted. During the week, you were given multiple shifts and hadn’t had time for yourself. Early shifts and surprising night shifts. Tonight had been friday and your last day of work for the week.

"How many times have I told you to not to overwork so much..?"

You attempted to count on your hands but failed miserably and laughed. You then scoffed and fell onto his bed.

He rolled his eyes at your failure to count, not surprised. Then, stood up from his chair and moved to sit beside you on the bed, gently grabbing your shoulders.

“And are you going to pass out on my bed?”

You chuckled a bit, “Maybe….” He let out a scoff at your bratty response and rolled his eyes. Beomgyu was tempted to push you off the bed so you’d be forced to go to your own bed.

“You’re such a pain,” he muttered softly and flicked your forehead. You let out a slight yelp at his action and slapped his shoulder and rolled your eyes. “Gyu! Why would you-“

Beomgyu chuckled, he found you cute when you were exhausted. “Oh, shut up. You deserve it for passing out on my bed.”

Grabbing your arm, he spoke once more, more irritation in his voice. “I’ll have to carry you to your own bed if you keep this up, you know.”

“I really don’t feel like getting up.”Empathizing on the really part, you pouted, you genuinely didn’t feel like moving.

Beomgyu let his head fall back, knowing that there was no way he would convince you to get up and go to your own bed. He let go of your arm and flopped on the bed beside you.

“You’re the most annoying person ever. you know that, right?”

“Sure.” You said sarcastically.

He stared at you for a moment, his eyes slowly traveled down to your lips for a split second, then back up into your eyes again.

“You must be a masochist or something. You really want to piss me off, huh?”

“Beomgyu i’m tired can I just sleep here.” You whined, you didn’t want to do anything. You were so worn out and wanted to pass out right then and there.

Beomgyu had to hold back a chuckle at your begging. After a moment of considering it, he spoke jokingly. “Hmmm… I guess so. Just don’t drool on my pillow.”

You rolled your eyes and immediately passing out on the bed. You felt comfortable having some sound in the background as you drifted away to your slumber.

You woke up while Beomgyu had been still playing games on his pc. Just then, he looked up from his desk and noticed you stirring in his bed. A smirk immediately formed on his lips and he slid his headphones down to his neck.

"Well, look who's finally awake." He chuckled amusement. You let out a soft grunt as you rubbed your eyes, those vibrant lights on his screen were too much they were almost blinding your newly awaken sight.

You felt light, a bit more awake. One thing was that, you were confused why you had been in Beomgyus room in the first place. You had always found him attractive but he’d also been a bit of a pain in the ass with his constant screaming.

He chuckled at your tired grunts, turning his chair back in your direction. He noticed the confused look on your face as you slowly got more conscious and smirked to himself.

"Still feeling tired, princess?"

He teased and leaned back on his chair, spinning it in your direction.

“Why am I here again?” You asked while attempting to get up.

“You barged into my room worn out as a skunk and begged me to let you sleep in my bed.”

“Doesn’t.. Sound like me..”

He chuckled softly at your response and nodded, amused by your denial. Beomgyu watched you sit up on the bed, and his gaze traveled slowly down your body. He noticed how your shirt was riding up from where it had been tucked into your pants earlier, exposing a small patch of skin. his eyes then glanced over your face.

"Sure…." He said sarcastically, his gaze returning to your face.

“I should uh… Go back to my room. Thanks for letting me nap here.”

Before you could climb off the bed, he spoke again. "You sure you don’t want to stay a little longer? I’m sure my bed is more comfortable than yours."

You fail to attempt a fake chuckle. Trying to be as respectful as possible, you try to reject his proposal.

“No It’s okay, I wouldn’t want to bother you. Plus, where would you sleep?”

He chuckled at your response, finding your attempt at being polite adorable. He couldn't help but toy with you a bit, enjoying the way you were getting flustered around him.

"Oh, don’t worry about that. My bed is big enough for the both of us. I'm sure I would have no problem sharing it with you."

After many back and forths of you trying to be polite and him not accepting it, the man was practically begging. Might as well accept. It’s one night, no biggie.

“Okay, fine. I’m gonna go find some pjs though. Can’t stay in this outfit.”

A satisfied grin appeared on his lips as you finally gave in after his attempts. He nodded in agreement when you mentioned finding different clothes, letting out a soft chuckle.

"Sure, go get changed. I'll be right here waiting for you."

As you walked into your room, of course all your clothes had to have been dirty. “Why didn’t I do the laundry? Stupid, stupid, stupid.” Was what you thought. The only remotely clean pair of pjs you had, had been your summer night gown. It had lace around the chest area and it was meant to be seen by no one but yourself.

After seconds of contemplating wether or not you should wear it, you give in and wear the short gown. Walking into Beomgyu’s room, he still seemed distracted by his pc.

When he heard a few footsteps near him, he looked up from the screen, jaw nearly dropped. He wasn't expecting you to come back wearing that.

Beomgyu's eyes immediately traveled down your body, noticing how small the dress really was. A soft clearing of his throat snapped him out of his stare, and he quickly looked away.

Trying not to make the situation more awkward, you decided it’s better you sparked up a conversation as he played his game. He was doing you a favour after all, your room was dirty, clothes everywhere and you were honestly too burnt out to deal with any of it.

“Soo… What game are you playing?”

“I’m just playing Overwatch. Nothing too interesting.” He hummed trying to contain himself from looking at you.

“Oh I’ve heard of Overwatch- Is it fun?” You spoke back while sitting on the edge of his bed.

He nodded in response to your question. "Yeah, it's a pretty good game. It's a lot better when you have some friends to play with though."

He sighed before speaking again “Do you wanna try?”

“Alright, i’ll try.”

You hummed while getting a bit closer. You noticed that he didn’t have another chair.

He smirked as you got closer, noticing your realization.

"Well, it looks like you'll have to share my chair with me, princess."

He teased jokingly, patting his lap as an invitation for you to sit there.

You let out a quiet gasp, wondering what he was trying to get at. Not only had you been worn out from working all week but you’d also been so needy for some action. Him telling you to sit on his lap might’ve possibly been a mistake.

As thoughts raffled through your mind, you came to the conclusion where, fine, you’d sit on his lap. Reminding yourself constantly not to do anything inappropriate.

Beomgyu had a smug look on his face as you stood there in silence, clearly thinking over your options. He knew that it would be pretty entertaining having you sit on him while he tried to play the game. Beomgyu had already prepared himself for all the things he or even you might do while being in such a compromising position, but he didn't really mind.

"Come here, y/n. I don't have all night."

You sat yourself down on his thigh and took over his mouse and keyboard.

“What do I do—”

His arms instinctively wrapped around your waist as you got situated on his lap, his chest pressed against your back. He chuckled at your question, as his chin rested on your shoulder.

"Well, just try to shoot at the enemies. It doesn't have to be perfect, hun. You can just play around and have fun."

The feeling of his presence under you felt nice. You shifted your body a bit on his lap, then began attempting to ‘Shoot the enemies.’

He tried very hard to resist the urge to tease you about the way you were squirmed on his lap, instead choosing to watch you play the game. He noticed how you shifted on his lap, feeling your body move against his own.

After watching you attempt to shoot the enemies, he let out an amused scoff and muttered near your ear.

"You really suck at this, jagiya. It's almost cute."

You sighed before speaking once more, “Beomgyu, I’ll be better than you in no time.”

"Is that so?" Beomgyu asked, a teasing glint in his eye as he watched you play. He shifted slightly, his hand reaching up to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple. “Is this okay y/n?” You gasped and nodded, your movements on the controller faltering for a moment.

"Don't let me distract you," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "Focus on the game and prove your skills."

He continued to toy with your nipple, rolling it gently between his thumb and index finger. Your hips involuntarily began to move against his thigh, the friction causing a light whimper to escape your lips.

His fingers continued to dance along your nipple, the pressure increased with each passing second. You felt the wetness between your legs growing, the heat radiating from your core as your body began to ache for release.

Slowly, he slid his hand down to your skin tenderly. He went slow, though it felt nice, his prolonged touch. You felt his calloused fingers worshipping your body through the simple act, so soft, so intimate already.

A breath hitched in your throat, though he was going so slowly, it made it hard to concentrate. His calloused fingers came in contact with your soft skin, the background noise of gunshots now distant compared to the simple tension radiating infront of you.

His fingers moved over the hem of your underwear. "Do you think you can concentrate on the game now?" he asked, his voice thick with lust.

You bit your lip, your fingers trembling on the controller as he started to tease your clit. "Fuck," you cursed, your voice breathy and strained.

Beomgyu's fingers continued to circle over your underwear and later found himself teasing your clit. The rhythm increased as he felt your arousal grow. He then began pushing his fingers inside you.

You moaned, your body arching into his touch. "Fuck, Beomgyu," you panted, your eyes fluttering shut as he began to finger you.

You felt his hardened member under you, as he slowly began fumbling his belt to release himself. After having his shaft out, it hardened even more hearing your moans— As one of his hands had still been on your clit, he then pushed your underwear to the side and attempted to set himself into you.

“You’re so tight, y/n”

Beomgyu's thrusts grew harder, his cock filling you completely with each push. He leaned forward, his lips finding your neck, his teeth gently nipping at your skin.

"Cum for me," he demanded, his voice a low growl.

Your body tightened, your walls clenching around him as you approached the edge. You then cried out, your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave.

Feeling you spasm around him, Beomgyu's hips jerked, his own release following close behind. He groaned, his hold on you tightening as he pulled himself out of you and came.

A couple seconds later, you noticed that the pc screen showed that you had died. You and Beomgyu had probably been too distracted to notice, “Thought you were better than me, hm?” he whispered in your ear.

[sukunasbow]

sweet like sugar, nate archibald.

summary: in which you come home to find a certain someone waiting in your bedroom for you.

warnings: fem!waldorf!reader, sort of sugar daddy/baby dynamic, oral, not yet proof read!

notes: this is overly long so i cut the smut short and lame, sorry bbies!!

Walking out of the elevator and into your house, you’re shocked and slightly concerned when you’re met with the sight of Chuck Bass sitting in your living room. “Ew, Kill me now.” You groan.

Your words catch his attention and he turns in the couch to face you, “Lovely to see you too.” He gives you his classic smirk, immediately creeping you out.

“Why are you here?” You roll your eyes as you walk through the foyer and towards him, your shoes clicking on the floor. “Well?” You raise an eyebrow, placing your small handbag on the coffee table in front of the man.

“I’m here for your sister. She’s upstairs, we’re leaving for a dinner party.” Chuck explains, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Is that an issue?” He then questions you.

You don’t respond for a moment, staring him down, a cruel look on your face. “Yeah, actually, it is an issue.”

“You have a lot of nerve, you know that?” Chuck shakes his head, trying to intimidate you by stepping closer, “Talking down on me and acting all high and mighty as if I’m unaware of you and Nate’s dirty secret. Actually, speaking of Nate and that, uh, secret..If I were you I’d go upstairs and check out your bedroom.” He whispers, but quickly backs away and exits the living room when Blair starts coming down the stairs.

“What’s going on here?” Blair stands next to Chuck and the two of them look back at you.

“Oh, nothing. Just some banter, your sister seems to be..” Blair’s boyfriend puts on his strange checkered coat, “Not super fond of me.”

Blair glares at you, turning around and grabbing Chuck’s hand, taking him with her, not before he can get a small laugh at your expression, though. The pair enter the elevator, exiting the house and going on their date.

You, however, slowly make your way up the spiral staircase, walking towards your bedroom, Chuck’s comment from earlier stuck in your head. You’re not necessarily ashamed of the supposed secret arrangement between you and Nate. By definition, you’d be considered his ‘sugar baby’ but the two of you don’t view it that way. You’ve been friends with him since childhood, and as you got older, you started feeling attracted to him. Eventually, you both figured out the fact that you felt the same way, and things got physical since. You never wanted to put a label on it and every time he came over to your place, he’d bring you gifts or something you previously mentioned wanting. Now, it’s become a tradition. You fuck him and he gives you whatever you desire.

You gently push your door open, a shocked look on your face when you find Nate sitting on the edge of your bed, your room decorated with candles and white Christmas lights. “What is all of this?” You grin, looking in the corner on the room to find a fake Christmas tree, piles of gifts underneath it.

“Merry, early, Christmas.” Nate laughs, standing up from the bed and walking towards you.

“You’re so unbelievable!” You cover your mouth, “Nate, is this all for me?” You point at the neatly wrapped presents under the tree.

He nods, “Yeah. Chuck helped me set it all up.”

“I can’t accept all of this, Nate.” You shake your head, you back away from him, a guilty look creeping onto your face.

“Of course you can, I want you too. Besides, if you don’t, it’ll go to waste.” He insists, sitting back down on the bed, motioning for you to sit next to him.

“Okay..” You sigh, taking a seat next to him. “I guess I should get you something nice then, hm?” You look at him.

“Only if you want to get me something.”

“Of course I do, Nate.”

For a moment, you both sit in silence, unsure of what to do. Deciding to speak up, you turn your body so you’re fully facing him. “I can give you a present now if you want one.” Your tone is soft but seductive.

“Oh, really?” He holds back his smile, moving his hand up your tights and under your skirt, massaging your thigh.

“Hey, I’m the one giving you a present.” You scoff, “You’ve given me enough.” You move his hand away from your body, this time you push him back on the bed, unbuttoning his shirt. Slowly, you part the fabric, kissing down his abs, then hovering your mouth just above his v line. “Hmm” You hum, lifting your hand towards the bulge peaking through his pants.

“Fuckkk.” He groans, tossing his bed back as you palm his dick over the pants. “Please, baby.”

“Please what? Use your words.”

“Come on.” He starts getting desperate and increasingly needy.

You bite your lip, deciding to answer his pleas. You slide his pants off and toss them on the bed, then very slowly taking off his boxers, teasing him as much as possible.

“(Y/N).” He huffs.

“Fine, fine.” You let out a small laugh, feeling content with yourself. Instead, you wrap your hands around his dick, starting to jerk him off while you work on taking the rest of him in your mouth.

“Holy shit.” He moans, his eyes rolling back as you continue to take your time and slowly suck his cock, occasionally stopping and licking his tip, trying to prolong his pleasure, considering everything he does for you. Nate gently takes a fistful of your hair and helps bob your head in a rhythm, getting you to take all his dick. “That feels so good.” He breathes out. You pick up the speed, sending him over the edge. “I’m gonna—” He starts but quickly stops when you move your hands and completely take him in, his jaw opening and his eyes closing as he fills your mouth with his cum. You sit up swallow, then kissing him, letting him taste the remains of his juices on your lips.

[yunniverse]

My Home

౨ৎ PAIRING— jeong yunho x reader

౨ৎ GENRE— angst, fluff, established relationship, fem!reader

౨ৎ WARNINGS— little bit of angst, mostly fluff, yunho is a soft boy

౨ৎ WORD COUNT— 3.6k

౨ৎ SUMMARY— it isn’t no way home. it’s one way home, and that way is yunho.

౨ৎ A/N— i just love yunho so much :( feedback is appreciated and thanks for reading, loves!!

You walk into your apartment, kicking off your shoes and placing your purse in one of the chairs at your kitchen counter.   When you finally take a seat on your couch, sighing in relief at the feeling of finally getting to sit down after a lot of standing today at work.   Suddenly, your phone buzzes, and you frown, grabbing it from beside you to look at it.   —Excited for tonight!! It’s my turn to pick a movie ;)   “Oh shoot!” you exclaim, jumping up as soon as you read the text, throwing the phone down and hurrying to get ready for a shower. Yunho can’t come over seeing you like this, even though he’s your boyfriend and he’s told you before not to worry about your appearance around him. You still like to feel good about yourself, though, as much as you can.   After grabbing a change of clothes, you head into the bathroom to hop into the shower, hoping you’ll have enough time to finish before Yunho arrives, not to mention you still have to make dinner.   Although, you might be able to convince him takeout is a good option to tonight. You find yourself lost in thought about the best way to convince him, when you hear your front door open.   Your eyes widen as you turn the water off, rushing to dry off and change clothes. It obviously isn’t the first time Yunho has let himself in, in fact he does it quite often, but you’re usually a little more prepared.   Leaving the bathroom once you feel presentable, you walk out of your bedroom and into the living room, looking around for your boyfriend.   Suddenly, you feel someone place their hands over your eyes, laughing. “Guess who?”

You smile once you’re over the initial jumpscare, “Oh, I don’t know… Maybe my boyfriend who’s trying to give his girlfriend a heart attack?”   “You barely flinched,” Yunho laughs, shaking his head as he spins you around, engulfing you in a hug, slightly lifting you off the ground.   “Yunho!” you scold playfully, laughing once he puts you back on the ground. When you regain your balance, you look up at him, taking in his appearance today.   His soft, chocolate brown hair frames his face, and he’d chosen a white, short-sleeved sweater, a choker necklace with the tiniest pearls all around it, finished off with black jeans.   “You look like you’re going to an office or something,” you comment, quirking an eyebrow. “Not a comfy movie night.”   “Sorry,” he pouts, his brown eyes softening, looking very puppy-like. “I just came from a meeting straight here.”   “Don’t apologize,” you smile up at him. “You look really good, just not comfortable.”   “It’s the jeans, right?” Yunho comments as you move around him to enter the kitchen, on a secret mission for your takeout menus. “I really need to ask if I can start wearing sweatpants to the meetings.”   “Hm,” you hum, digging through your menu drawer.   “Isn’t that the drawer of menus?” Yunho asks, taking a seat in one of your swivel chairs at the counter, watching you.   “Yeah,” you look up at him sheepishly.   “But babyyy,” Yunho’s shoulders slump as he whines. “You said you’d teach me to cook something today.”   “I know, I know,” you step around the counter to him, wrapping your arms around his middle from behind, your chin resting against his shoulderblade as he leans against the counter on his elbows. “But we can do that next time, can’t we?”   He turns around to face you, the small pout still visible on his lips, “You said that last time.”   “I’m just really tired today,” you sigh, lowering you head for a moment before meeting Yunho’s gaze again. “We can order your favorite.”   He pauses, thinking, “Alright, I guess. But next time?”   “Thank you, thank you!” you beam up at him, throwing your arms around his shoulders in a tight, quick hug. “And yes, of course.”   “I’ll hold you to it for real this time,” Yunho warns, making you nod quickly, overjoyed that he agreed so quickly.

When you try to remove yourself from his grip, he stops you, giving you another small pout. “No kisses?”   “Huh?” you question, slightly taken aback by his boldness.   “I’ve waited all day for kisses and cuddles, and I haven’t gotten any yet,” Yunho responds, giving you his puppy eyes that always make you fold.   “Hm,” you pretend to think, but ultimately smile, leaning in closer to give him a soft, quick kiss, which tastes a little different this time, but a good different. “Are you wearing the peach chapstick I gave you?”   “Yeah,” he breathes, looking a little shy. “I like it.”   “So do I,” you grin cheekily, making him roll his eyes playfully before tickling your sides a little, making you squeal, giggling.   “What do you wanna order?” Yunho asks once you’ve calmed down.   “I said we’d order your favorite,” you raise an eyebrow at him. “So we’re ordering your favorite.”   “We don’t actually have to, love,” he responds. “You’ve had a long day, and I’d like to make you happy.”   “You’re too sweet sometimes, Yuyu,” you feel a swell of happiness in your chest at his care for you. “But I honestly just want to eat whatever you want.”   “Honest?” Yunho asks, making sure.   “Honest,” you nod, sticking your pinky out, something you both do to prove to each other that you’re telling the complete truth.   He grins, linking his pinky with yours before lifting your joined pinkies to his lips, pressing a kiss to your finger with a wink that makes you swoon.   “I’ll order, then,” he grabs his phone, getting ready to call.   As he orders the food, you walk over to the living room, pulling out the plush, light blue blanket you usually use for movie nights.   Yunho walks over to you once he finishes the call, laughing as he engulfs you in a hug from behind. “Yuyu!” you complain as he rests some of his weight against you. “Why are you being so cuddly today?”   “You say that like I don’t do this every time we’re together,” Yunho scoffs, squeezing you once more before he releases you, plopping down onto the couch.   “I just felt like mentioning it today,” you shrug, smirking as you plop down onto his lap with no warning.   “Oof!” he grunts at the impact, shooting you a playful glare as he digs his fingers into your sides, tickling you until you give in, moving away from him to lay on the couch.   “Yunhooo,” you whine after a few moments of him paying attention to the game show on the TV. He glances over at you to see your pout as you make grabby hands toward him.   “What’s wrong, baby?” he asks, tilting his head to the side in question, resembling a puppy yet again.

“I want cuddles,” you respond with pleading eyes.   “The food will be here soon,” Yunho counters, and you know he has a point, but he looks so fluffy with his fluffy brown hair and soft gaze. You can’t help wanting to have him to yourself for cuddles.   “After we eat we can cuddle,” Yunho tells you, reaching for his phone to check his notifications. With a disappointed sigh, you look up at the ceiling, letting your arms drop onto your stomach.   After a few minutes of silence, you look back over at him, perching yourself up on your elbows. “Your hair looks so soft.”   He looks up from his phone to meet your gaze with a shy smile, “Thank you.”   “I love your natural color hair,” you continue. “I’m glad it isn’t dyed right now.”   “Yeah, I’m happy it isn’t dyed, too,” Yunho nods, agreeing.   “I wanna touch it,” you immediately resort to puppy eyes, even though you already know he told you no to cuddles right now.   “I know,” he responds cheekily, sticking his tongue out at you.   “Rude,” you gasp. “Especially coming from someone who’s gonna pick Spiderman again tonight.”   “Spiderman movies are good,” Yunho protests.   “You look like Peter Parker with your natural hair,” you point out, making him scoff.   “I’m not that good looking,” he responds, shaking his head.   You toss a throw pillow at him, “Liar!”   He laughs, tossing it back at you just as someone knocks on the door. Yunho jumps up to go get the food as you sit up, stretching.   “It’s here!” he exclaims once he pays the delivery person. “Ready to eat?”   After about an hour, you and Yunho finally make your way back to the couch, where you get settled to watch the movie.   You’re about fifteen minutes into the action when Yunho shifts, his arm moving to rest around your shoulders, coaxing you to rest yours against his chest. His other hand finds yours under the blanket, interlacing your fingers with his.   You pull his hand into your lap, glancing up at him with a small, sleepy grin, “I love you.”   “I love you too, sunshine,” Yunho responds, pressing a sweet kiss to the side of your head.   “I needed this,” you admit after a few moments, biting your lip as you absentmindedly play with Yunho’s fingers under the blanket.   “You did?” he asks, looking down at you with curiosity.   “Yeah,” you breathe. “I had a long day at work.”

“What happened?” Yunho asks, noticing your sudden shift in mood.   “I just…” you trail off, your chin quivering slightly. “Everyone kept telling me I was doing everything wrong, and I tried to make them happy, but it’s never enough. Everyone always has better ideas than me and I feel useless.”   “Baby,” Yunho frowns, sitting up more to turn you to look at him. “You’re anything but useless. And you can’t please everyone. You should know that.”   “I know… I’m sorry,” you suck in a wobbly breath. “I didn’t mean to start crying and ruin our night.”   “You aren’t ruining anything,” Yunho responds softly. “I want you to tell me when things are going wrong. It’s my job to be here for you, and I always will be. Alright?”   You simply nod, shifting to wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his neck. He coos at you, one hand rubbing your back soothingly while the other cradles your head against him. “You’re amazing, y/n,” Yunho tells you softly. “Don’t let anyone get you down. Promise?”   You nod against him, too overwhelmed to say anything at the moment.   When you’ve calmed down enough, you let a small smile take over your features, “You smell nice.”   “Yeah?” he whispers, laughing slightly.   “I think my new favorite scent on you is peach,” you pull away from his neck to look at him.   “I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiles, his hands moving to cup your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks soothingly. “Feeling better?”   “Yeah,” you nuzzle into his hands, your eyelids fluttering closed at his soft touch. When you open your eyes again, Yunho is gazing at you lovingly, a soft smile on his face. “What is it?” you whisper, feeling a little shy under his intense gaze.   “I was just thinking about how much I love you,” Yunho responds, making your face heat up.   “I love you too, Yuyu,” you tell him when you control the butterflies in your stomach somewhat. Yunho smiles, leaning forward to press his lips to yours in a soft kiss, which you melt right into. He has that effect on you.   “I missed you this past week,” you tell him once you’re both settled back in, eyes on the TV screen again.   “So did I,” Yunho responds softly, his thumb brushing against your knee under the blanket, making you shiver slightly before you snuggle further into his cozy sweater, letting your gaze fix back on the TV.   It’s about fifteen minutes later when you start to grow a little bored of watching the movie, taking a quick glance up at Yunho, who still seems fully invested, his eyebrows furrowed slightly in concentration.   Sneakily, you carefully slip your cold fingers beneath his sweater, giggling when he jumps, his eyes darting to you in shock.   “Y/nnnn,” he whines, wriggling a little at the chill your hands have caused. “I was warm!”   “Exactly,” you grin cheekily. “And my hands are cold.”

Yunho shakes his head at you, trying to relax again and ignore your cold fingers. You watch him look back at the TV, and you sigh happily, sliding your hands up a little further against his toned stomach.   Yunho tenses for a moment and you hold back a giggle, knowing he’s struggling to stay put and not shove you off.   Feeling even more mischievous, you wiggle your fingers slightly, laughing when he immediately jolts with a small yelp.   “Sorry,” you mumble, though the smirk on your face that Yunho can’t see proves you’re not really sorry.   “You know I’m ticklish,” Yunho huffs, his muscles still tensed underneath your hands.   “I know, I know,” you respond, flattening your hands again, showing him you won’t tickle him again. “It won’t happen again, baby.”   “It better not,” Yunho warns, but slowly starts to relax again.   With a content sigh, you let your eyelids flutter closed, resting your cheek against Yunho’s chest, where you can hear his steady heartbeat. Soon, you find yourself growing sleepy, and you only feel more sleepy when Yunho’s fingers move to your head, softly massaging your scalp.   You find yourself being pulled deeper into the soft lull of sleep as Yunho’s heartbeat thumps rhythmically beneath you.   “Sweetheart,” you hear Yunho’s gentle, deep voice coaxing you awake.   “Hm,” you hum, snuggling further into him with a small sigh.   “It’s getting late,” he responds, much to your dismay.   “I don’t want you to leave,” you shift, your chin resting against his chest now, looking up at him with sad doe eyes.   “I don’t want to leave either,” Yunho replies, his fingers in your hair slipping down to cup the side of your head in his palm. You lean into his touch, nuzzling his hand. “But I have to, unfortunately.”   You huff, knowing you’re being difficult, but you’re sad you haven’t gotten to hang out with him much lately, and then you fell asleep for who knows how long.   “But I was asleep, and you didn’t wake me!” you protest, pouting up at him.   “You were so cute, though,” Yunho responds, sticking his lower lip out at you in a small pout. “I couldn’t wake you up.”   “You could’ve,” you mumble, slipping your hands out from under Yunho’s sweater, to which he sighs in content at the loss of contact with your freezing cold hands, although they had gotten a little warmer.   “How long was I asleep anyway?” you ask, yawning, as you move your hands to play with the little pearls on Yunho’s necklace.   “About an hour and a half,” he replies, bracing for your exclamation of shock.   “Yuyu!” you whine, tugging on his necklace a little. “We could have spent more time together if you’d woken me up!”   “You seemed like you needed the rest,” he responds softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek. You sigh, knowing you can’t be mad at him when he’s being this sweet.   “And I know how hard you’ve been working, so I figured I’d let you sleep for at least a little bit,” he continues quietly, the softness in his gaze almost too much to handle.   “Yunho,” you sigh, shaking your head slightly.   “What?” he asks, worry suddenly flooding his features.

“You’re too sweet sometimes, you know that?” you finish, a cheeky smile growing on your face.   “You can’t do that!” Yunho pouts. “You scared me!”   “Aw, I’m sorry,” you giggle slightly. “It was the perfect opportunity.”   “To make me think you were breaking up with me?” Yunho asks, his gaze sad, with a small frown.   “What?” you exclaim, incredulous. “I’d never break up with you, Yunho. You know that.”   “Okayy,” he responds, the sad look still in his eyes.   With a playful eye roll, you lean forward, your lips meeting his in what was supposed to be a chaste kiss. Yunho has other plans, however, and moves his hand to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss as you melt into him for the thousandth time this evening.   “I should go,” he mumbles against your lips as you sigh, disappointed.   “I know,” you pout, laying your head down once again, trying to delay the inevitable.   “I can’t get up unless you let me,” Yunho chuckles down at you, watching you with a fond gaze.   “So, if I don’t, you’ll stay forever?” you ask, looking up at him suddenly.   “Do you want me to?” he asks softly, and you blink up at him, your gaze flickering between his eyes, searching for his meaning.   “Of course,” you respond quietly. “You know I’d love nothing more.”   “So, if I asked you to spend forever with me, you’d say yes?” Yunho asks, his voice soft and full of love.   “Are you?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows a little.   “Am I what?” he responds, a small laugh escaping him.   “Are you asking me to spend forever with you?” you repeat, though you’re pretty certain he already knew what you were asking.   “If I was?” Yunho responds, voice almost a whisper.   “I’d say yes in a heartbeat,” you reply with no hesitation.

“Well,” Yunho laughs a little, shifting to sit up, forcing you to as well. “That’s good news.” You’re beyond confused now as he moves to stand, and your heart drops when you realize he must be getting ready to leave for the night.   “Yeah, it’s great news. What was the poin-“ you start, but cut yourself off when you see Yunho pulling something out of his pocket. “Yunho?” you question, heartbeat speeding up as he moves to one knee, holding a velvet box in his hands.   “Y/n,” Yunho starts, looking up at you, his brown eyes sparkling in the dim lighting. “I’ve never been happier with anyone then I am with you. It’s torture having to be away from you for any amount of time, especially when I’m on tour for weeks on end. I mean it with my whole heart when I say you’re the only one I’ll ever want. So, even though I know this isn’t the ideal place to ask this, and this isn’t exactly how I wanted to ask you… I can’t wait any longer. Will you spend forever with me and be my wife?” He opens the velvet box in his hand, revealing a beautiful diamond ring.   “Yunho,” you breathe, desperately trying to hold back the tears threatening to fall. “Yes, yes, yes!” you laugh, smiling as you throw your arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly.   He stands slowly, still holding you, as you loosen your grip, letting him slip the ring on your finger. It fits perfectly. Holding it up in the light, you admire the way it sparkles, matching the glint in Yunho’s eyes as he watches you.   “I love you,” he whispers as he reaches over to gently brush the stubborn tears off your cheeks.   “I love you too, Yunho,” you reply, grinning, as you wrap your arms around his neck again. “So much.” He returns your smile before placing a tender kiss against your lips, one you immediately return.   “How long have you had this?” you ask, gesturing toward the ring as you pull back.   “A few weeks,” he responds, laughing slightly. “I was waiting for the perfect time, but I couldn’t hold it in any longer.”   “I’m glad you didn’t,” you reply, still smiling, realizing you haven’t been able to stop smiling since Yunho proposed.   “Again, I’m sorry it’s in your living room with the credits to Spiderman playing in the background,” Yunho pouts, glancing at the TV.   You giggle, “Somehow, I think it’s perfect.”   “Are you sure?” he asks, suddenly looking worried.   “Yunho,” you cup his face in your hands. “The only thing I care about is getting to marry you. The time or place you asked me isn’t important at all.”   “Really?” he asks, sighing in relief.   “Obviously,” you respond. “Sometimes you’re such a dork, you know that?”   “Hey, you just called your fiancé a dork,” Yunho quirks an eyebrow, and you throw your head back, laughing.   “I’m sorry, fiancé,” you reply with a wink, watching as he playfully rolls his eyes at you.   “Seonghwa is gonna kill me when he realizes I asked you in such an unromantic setting,” Yunho sighs, shaking his head.   “We both know Hwa is a little too much of a romantic sometimes,” you laugh. “Besides, what could be more romantic than Spiderman?”   “Exactly!” Yunho lights up and you giggle at his silliness.   “You know, everyday I realize more and more why your Aniteez is a puppy,” you speak up, mostly to yourself, as you watch Yunho excitedly text the Ateez group chat.

When he sends the text, he throws his phone down, moving to scoop you up in his arms, grinning when you let out a small yelp from the unexpected action.   “Wanna watch one more movie before I leave?” he asks, and this time it’s your turn to light up even more than you already were.   “When would I ever say no to that?” you ask, letting him pull you over to the couch with him.   “The next Spiderman movie?” Yunho suggests, looking up at you from his position already seated on the couch as you stand in front of him.   “Why not?” you respond, laughing, as Yunho tugs you down with him, cheering at your willingness.   “We should have a Spiderman themed wedding,” Yunho wonders aloud as the movie starts playing.   “Absolutely not,” you respond, pinching his sides a little in warning.   He laughs, grabbing your hands to stop you, “Alright, alright.”   A few minutes pass in silence, but you should have known it wouldn’t last long with the excited man beside you.   “At least the cake?”   “Yunho!”

[sakumz]

a/n : this man. knows how to drive one crazy hj ------------------------------------------------------

[ m. orter x fem reader ]

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

" mind if I take that seat? " a voice you know all too well says beside you, you look up from stirring your drink to see orter.

" sure, " you said and a veil of awkward silence pours. orter took this as an opportunity to order a drink and another bottle for both of you. thanking him as he pushes up his spectacles.

" you approve of that mash kid? " orter takes a sip of his drink as he awaits your answer.

" he did play my game... as a divine visionary I guess its only fair I keep my end of the bet ? I suppose you can say I've given my full support in that non magic guy. " you cheekily smile.

" I can't believe you made him play hide and seek. were you even trying to make it hard? no less the toy plush you're using is the size of a child. " he points to your bear companion, sitting by your side.

" it had murderous intentions... nearly killed that freckle kid. " you can't help but try not to laugh at the memory, even making your bear turn to face orter.

he wasn't faze, only rubbing his head. ryoh, rayne and kaldo already approve of the boy. with you, that's almost half of the divine visionary approving the boy. maybe he should assassinate him in secret? would that make you cry? you do have a soft spot for people younger than you. sometimes putting shows and playing with random children on the streets whenever he and you are on patrol duty.

" I still can't believe you. " he extends his hand with his wand, pushing your bear away. it fell to the ground and disappeared. your magic probably made it disappear when it touched the ground.

you lean in close, close to kissing orter but you can't help but giggle. he's such a child. was he mad at your approval to mash?

instead of a kiss, you were met with a headbutt.

" what the heck? " you rub both your hands at the wound.

" you're a betrayer. why would I kiss a betrayer of my heart? " he says it so calmly, it did tick you off.

" oh come on, he won... not really fair since the first round, my bear was the hider and he nearly got beaten to a pulp the moment he was found by the red hair and mushroom hair. there wasn't any rules so my bear was allowed to shrink... " you mumbled the last part as orter can't help but remember the first time you made him and the rest of the visionary play your hide and seek game.

everyone was easily found but the second it was your turn to hide your bear. you shrunk it to the size of a coin, hiding it in kaldo's honey. they only found it when kaldo nearly choke at the feeling of something. thank goodness the bear was just illusion like, it disappeared the moment kaldo starts coughing. you summon it in your palm as you present to the rest, the size of the bear and how they've won since no one surrendered. everyone nearly killed you that day.

" what's so funny? " you pout at the sandman when he starts laughing at the memory. he's getting tipsy from the drinks too.

" nothing. I love you so much, betrayer of my heart. " he leans to plant a kiss on your head.

" don't call me that, if you said to kill him. I would've done it. " you kick his leg as he sighs.

" you won't. you won't do things without reasons. you fail to follow rules too, " he flicks your forehead.

he was right, having met him when he was newly announced as a visionary. he knew you quite well. too well sometimes. it's only fair since he's your lover. you sigh before grabbing his cup and putting it away from him.

" well, no matter what, I'd still listen to you. just maybe I do wish this mash kid make a change. the magicless and magic living together doesn't sound all too bad. we're all humans, after all. the status quo doesn't matter to me when life is involved. I've seen my share of bloodshed. change isn't all too bad either, orter. " he can't help but flush a little at your reprimand.

in his head, you were right and wrong. he loves you dearly and would support you. the status quo is something he cherishes to an extent. he feels a kiss to his cheek as he meets your eyes after, one so full of love.

" let's go home, this talk won't change my mind and I won't force it upon you to approve of mash. just don't make things hard for the poor guy, " your words obviously went in and out the other ear. orter was set on ending mash. even the words of his dearest may not be important at the moment.

" you're such a child, " he stirs to which you narrow your eyes at him, one close to a glare.

" says the big baby, I can literally beat you in a fight if I take down your weakness first. " you raise a fist.

" oh yeah, what's the weakness? " he had his hand prompting his face, tilting it to the side as he smiles uncharacteristically.

" your glasses. once it's out of the way, you're done for. " you smile back as your fisted hand made impact to his face, not physically and painfully punching him. just a light tap.

" I thought you'd say you're my weakness. " he was really getting drunk as he giggles to himself.

" what, you're my weakness. " you playfully pout as orter grabs you to give you a hug.

" go home, idiots. " the bartender sighs at your antics. giving him a soft chuckle as you feel orter's weight on you.

he had fallen asleep. you summon one of your plush toys to help pay the bill from your wallet and then a few more to help you carry the man. how you hope he'd forgotten half of what happened tonight and the fact you paid instead of him. he'll definitely make a fuss if he knew, but what's the point of being rich as a divine visionary if you can't spend. he loves you to death just like you love him too. complicated relationship but there's so much love in it. orter enjoys your company and he's forever thankful for your existence.

[x0xomady]

made with love

˙⊹܀☁︎˚˙⊹⁺.

summary: harry and you are in london for fall, so you make cookies, listen to old music, and fall even more in love.

(harry styles x female reader)

warnings: 18+ it’s not heavy smut, but there is still some smut in it, oral fem reciving, sickingly cute fluff.

a/n: my last few stories have had some heavier themes and plots, so i wanted to write something sweet! this is all autumn themed since summer is over :)

˙⊹܀☁︎˚˙⊹⁺.

the cold streets of london are filled with dew from the rain, fallen leaves, and people. harry and you are walking along the street back towards his apartment after being at the store. after much debate and harry threatening to sleep in the guest room for a month, the two of you decided on making chocolate chip cookies.

⋆｡˚⁺｡ one hour earlier, at the store ｡⁺˚｡⋆

“what do you mean, chai cookies? what the hell is a chai cookie? that’s a tea, not a dessert, sweetheart.” harry looks at you in confusion as you walk through the baking isle of whole foods looking for ingredients.

“it’s a thing! you know it has chai, nutmeg, cinnamon, all that good stuff.” you shrug and continue looking for the bags of flour.

“uh no it isn’t. we need to make chocolate chip cookies! everyone knows chocolate chip cookies are the best classic cookie.” harry sighs dramatically and drops the container of chocolate chip cookies into the basket. “where’d you even the get the idea for chai cookies?”

you smile and try not to laugh as you turn and look back at harry, knowing he would be mad about the source of your new fixation. “you know…. taylor swift posted them on her social media-”

harry gives you a deadpan look and doesn’t say anything.

“yeah, yeah, fine we can make chocolate chip cookies, you drama queen.”

⋆｡˚⁺｡ present ｡⁺˚｡⋆

as you make your way through the crowded streets, the cold night air nips at your nose and leaves your hands feeling cold and stiff. the light of street lamps falls upon the wet pavement, casting a faint yellow glow upon it, while the buildings look dull and dark against the dark sky.

harry and you walk silently beside one another, dodging other pedestrians who seem to be just as bundled up against the cold.

you look up at the sky and see the clouds are beginning to move in, covering up the stars and making the city darker. harry looks down at you, his breath visible in the cold night air.

“you warm enough?” he carries the bags in one hand and reaches over, lacing one of your hands with his.

you feel the warmth of his hand against your cold skin and give him a small nod.

“yeah i am,” you say with a smile, feeling harry’s rings against your hand as you walk. “you sure we have everything we need?”

“i think so,” he says with a small shrug, squeezing your hand in his. “eggs, milk, butter, vanilla, flour, sugar, and chocolate chips. and i even remembered the baking soda. which by the way- i had no idea what that was until today.”

you roll your eyes and smile at his words. if there was one thing harry could not do, it was bake. he could write albums, go on world tours, and play multiple different instruments, but if he had to mix ingredients, it turned into world war three.

“you could’ve just bought premade cookie dough,” you point out with a smirk, looking over at him. “or we could’ve made something easier, like rice crispy treats, or brownies-“

“first of all,” he begins with a mock offended tone. “rice crispy treats are a kid's food. secondly, we’re trying to get the full autumn experience, okay? none of this “store-bought” nonsense.”

“we can get the full experience by cuddling on the couch under a blanket and watching a spooky movie,”

you counter, raising an eyebrow as harry rolls his eyes at you. the cold from the air gives him a light pink tint to his cheeks as you walk through the streets. “but i guess you’re right…. watching you trying to bake is horror enough.”

he gasps, looking down at you in mock horror. “you think i’m that bad?!”

he grabs your hand tighter and pulls you down the street faster as you get closer to his apartment. “that’s it. i’m going to make the best fucking cookies and force you to eat them.”

˙⊹܀☁︎˚˙⊹⁺.

“okay…. add…. 3/4 cup of sugar.”

you nod and start measuring the cup of sugar. harry’s sat on the counter with his legs dangling off the side, reading the ingredients out for you to add to the bowl.

“aaaand… 3/4 cup of brown sugar.”

you smile at the sight of harry sitting on the counter so casually. he’s wearing his favorite “DAMN” hoodie that he wore whenever he could. you add the brown sugar to the bowl and look at the dough.

“okay it looks good. come help me roll it out so we can bake it.”

harry smiles and hops off the counter, standing next to you eagerly and looking down at the dough.

“ohhh so i AM allowed to help, good to know.” harry sighs sarcastically and moves the sleeves of his hoodie up, revealling his tattoos.

you roll your eyes and put the dough on the counter. harry had TRIED to help you mix the ingredients at the beginning, but...

⋆｡˚⁺｡ a few minutes prior ｡⁺˚｡⋆

“okay add the flour, h. i measured it, just drop it in the bowl.” you nod towards the cup of flour and watch as harry picks it up.

instead of dropping it into the bowl like a normal person, harry decided to hold it up about three feet, so when it fell in, flour shot EVERYWHERE.

“oh….” harry looks over at you with flour coating his entire face and hands, letting out a sneeze as the flour goes in his nose.

“oh for fucks sake, harry.”

⋆｡˚⁺｡ present ｡⁺˚｡⋆

so he was benched after that.

“yeah, yeah, stop whining and help me roll it out.” you smile at the sight of your boyfriend squishing the dough around.

he grins at you at you and begins squishing the dough with his hands, pushing it out with his palms. the sound of harry’s favorite fleetwood mac song, “over my head” is playing throughout the kitchen.

“i’m over my head… oh but it sure feels nice” harry is mumbling along to the lyrics as he rolls the dough around. your heart flutters and you smile a little at the sound of harry singing. you could never really get over having harry styles around like this.

“this is fun. just mashing around some sticky dough and getting it in my fingernails for no reason whatsoever.”

you roll your eyes again and start forming the little balls of dough, putting them on the greased pan. “stop being gross.”

“no no i can’t help it, it’s too fun.” he grins at you, shoving one of his hands in the dough and holding it up to you.

“see look, my fingerprints!”

he presses the dough against your cheek before you can protest, laughing as he leaves a sticky, doughy handprint on your face.

you gasp and push his hand away, feeling the sticky dough on your cheek. “harry!”

he laughs loudly and holds his hands up in surrender. “i’m sorry, i couldn’t resist. you’re just too cute.”

he moves closer, bringing his face close to yours and licking the dough off your cheek. “mm tastes good. not that you don’t always taste good, because trust me, you do.”

“oh shut up,” you scoff, playfully pushing him away as a blush spreads across your cheeks.

he grins and kisses your cheek before going back to rolling the dough into shape. after a second of silence he speaks up again. “oh shit- it’s everywhere.”

you turn to see that, sure enough, almost the entire counter was covered in dough, with little bits of it clinging to your skin and shirt. you look up at the sight of harry’s hands completely covered in sticky dough.

“harry how did you manage to get dough EVERYWHERE?”

“uhm, excuse me, i think you mean how did WE manage to get dough everywhere.” harry grins as you give him a look. he holds his hands up, admiring the dough on them. “see, we’re bonding.”

harry’s smiling and giggling like crazy. you roll your eyes and give his shoulder a gentle shove. “yeah, bonding over dough. i think we’re at peak relationship goals right now. just put flour on your hands to get some of the dough off”

you couldn’t be mad at him at all. you knew what harry meant by “bonding.” harry had been on tour for almost three years straight, and you finally had the chance to spend more than a week at a time together. you knew he felt guilty about being gone so much, and that’s why he was so set on having a “perfect fall” together.

you look at your messy hands and sigh, shaking your head. “okay let’s finish putting these in the oven.”

harry grins, shaking as much of the dough as he can from his hands, sending little clumps of it flying into the air. he giggles and grabs some paper towels, wiping the rest of it off his hands.

“yeah okay i guess i’ll try not to get any more dough on your stuff and everywhere,” he responds, moving back to the counter towards you. “just because you’re being so sweet about it.”

you smile at his words and give him a peck before grabbing pans and putting them in the oven. “mkay… lets go pick a movie”

˙⊹܀☁︎˚˙⊹⁺.

“johnny depp is so hot in this movie.” you sigh dramatically and take a bite of your cookie, watching the iconic scene of him in a crop top.

harry nods in and takes a bite of his own cookie. “yeah i agree.”

the two of you are sat on harry’s large couch, watching the perfect scary movie, “a nightmare on elm street.” you’re sat on the couch, laying back with your head on harry’s chest eating your cookies. they didn’t come out perfect, harry’s large (and just a little awkward) hands hadn’t formed the best shaped cookies.

but it was all perfect.

the front window of the apartment was left open, letting in the cold breeze and smell of rain as the clouds and mist filled london. each cookie was made with love and it was evident in the taste. you could tell harry was happy. he was so anxious about making sure you spent time together, and he was finally making it happen.

your large, fuzzy throw blanket is draped over the two of you as you watch the classic horror movie. harry’s hands mindlessly run over your waist as his focus on the movie.

he lets out a small breath as his hand rubs up and down your hip. he lets his fingers trail down, tracing little patterns against your skin.

it had been so long since the two of you could just be together like this. tour schedules had been hell, and he hadn’t had a break for almost a year. he was trying to make the best of it, he could tell you were also having a good time. you were so happy to just be near him, he could feel it in the way you relaxed into his touch.

“ughh that is disgusting. acting is…. mm subpar” harry says sarcastically and fake gags at the sight of johnny depp’s characters gruesome death scene. he grabs another cookie and puts it in his mouth, wincing at the sight of the blood.

“yeah yeah, I forgot I was with an experienced actor,” you scoff sarcastically, looking up at your boyfriend, who’s pulling a face. it was cute how affected he was by a cheesy 80s horror movie.

he rolls his eyes and grins down at you, still continuing to make a face as he watches the movie. “hey i’m allowed to criticize, remember don’t worry darling? yeah that’s right, masterpiece.”

he brings his hand from your waist down to your leg, gently squeezing your thigh as he looks back at the tv and watches the movie.

you smile and shake your head at his words, taking another bite of your cookie. “oh that’s right. please forgive me.”

the two of you continue to watch the movie, occasionally commenting on the acting or the plot. harry's hand never stops moving, tracing patterns on your waist and thigh, and you can feel yourself relaxing more and more with each passing moment.

the rain outside picks up, making a soft tapping noise against the window. the cool breeze from outside makes the room feel cozy and warm.

harry pulls your sweatpants down and tosses them to the side before grabbing your thighs and pulling you closer to him. he starts pressing kisses along your legs, starting from your ankles and working his way up. his stubble scratches gently against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. he takes his time, savoring every inch of your legs as he moves higher and higher.

the rain outside continues to fall, creating a soothing background noise combined with the quiet sound of the movie that only adds to the intimacy of the moment. you can't help but let out a soft sigh as he reaches your inner thighs, his fingers digging into your skin.

as he reaches your core, you gasp and grab onto harry's thick curls underneath the blanket. he presses a kiss against your folds, and you let out a low moan. your heart races as he continues to explore, his fingers tracing patterns against your skin. you lean back against the couch, your body going limp as you let yourself be consumed by the sensation.

harry's hands move up to your hips, holding you in place as he continues to taste and tease.

you feel his warm breath against your skin, and his tongue darts in and out, sending shivers down your spine. he suckles your sensitive nub between his lips, holding your body close to his. the scratchiness of his stubble gives a delicious sensation as his mouth, and chin scrape against your mound.

your fingers dig deeper into his curls, holding him in place as you arch your back, pushing yourself closer to his mouth. "yes, please h, need more." your voice comes out as a whimper as you push your hips to meet his face.

harry's hands grip tighter on your hips, pulling you closer as he continues to taste and tease. he can feel your body trembling beneath his touch, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. he takes his time, exploring every inch of you as if it's the first time he's ever tasted you.

but suddenly, he pulls away, leaving you wanting. he pushes the blanket off, revealing your flushed skin and the desire in your eyes. he gives you his signature cheeky grin, his green eyes meeting yours.

"what do you need, love?" he asks, his voice low and husky. his hand reaches up to brush a strand of hair out of your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek.

you bite your lip, your breath still coming in short gasps. "i need you," you whisper, your voice barely audible.

harry's grin widens as he hears your words. he leans back in, pressing a kiss against the inside of your thigh, keeping his eyes on yours. "yeah?" he asks, his voice low and husky. "need my fingers, baby?"

you nod and holds onto his curls. harry takes his time, tracing a path with his fingers up your thigh, making you squirm in anticipation. when he reaches your core, he gently slides a finger inside of you, making you gasp at the sensation. he starts to move his finger in a slow, steady rhythm, his thumb pressing against your clit.

harry's eyes never leave yours, watching every reaction and response to his touch.

"you look so good," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. he presses a second finger past your entrance, and you let out a low moan as he begins to explore deeper. "so, so, so pretty," he says, his breath hot against your skin.

he continues to move his fingers inside of you, building up a rhythm that has you pressing your hips up against his hand. your breath comes in short, sharp gasps as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

harry's fingers curl inside of you, pressing against that spot that makes your whole body tremble.

"oh, shit," you gasp, your fingers tugging on harry's hair for support. he smirks against your skin, his fingers continuing to thrust in and out of you. he presses tight circles on your clit, pressing light kisses against your thighs and mumbling words of encouragement.

you can feel your orgasm building up inside of you, your body tensing up as you get closer and closer to the edge. harry's fingers continue to move inside of you, his touch driving you wild. you whimper out, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as your orgasm finally crashes over you.

harry smiles as he feels your walls squeeze his fingers, his eyes locked on yours as he watches you come undone. he gently presses kisses against your clit, his lips soft and gentle against your sensitive skin. slowly, he moves his fingers out of you as you ride out your orgasm.

"good job, baby," he whispers, his voice low and husky. "you look so pretty." his eyes are filled with adoration as he gazes at you, his fingers still tracing patterns on your skin. you can feel your body relaxing, your muscles releasing the tension as you come down from your high.

“love you so much,” he sits up from where he was kneeling on the floor between your legs and grabs a towel to gently clean you up. he stands up and presses a kiss to your forehead. “told you, you taste better than any of those damn cookies.”

˙⊹܀☁︎˚˙⊹⁺.

i may or may not have been inspired to write this after i made taylors chai cookies 👀

-💋

[magicdustsworld]

Redemption

Levi Ackerman x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: For you, freedom comes in the form of college life. However, soon you come to realize that tethering liberating steps for way too long will get you to situations you don't want to be in.

Tropes: Professor/Student, explicit smut

Warnings: profanity, age gap (Reader is in early 20s, Levi is in his early to mid 30s), drug abuse, smoking, alcoholism, implied nudity and blackmail, body shot, toxic college life, toxic friendship dynamics, college/modern AU, no mentions if y/n.

Word count: 3.6k

Event: submission for levievent under the prompt of day 10 - age differences.

A/N: after a lot of contemplation, I have decided to let it be a two-shot series. The next part will contain filthy smut, hopefully updated by tomorrow and pls excuse any mistakes on this part, my laptop broke down so I had to type it on my phone. Hope you enjoy!

Divider credits - @cafekitsune

|NEXT|

This isn't supposed to be happening.

You aren't supposed to be bend over your professor's desk, skirt raised up and have your cunt pulsating over his cock like a damn virgin.

He clicks his tongue, "Filthy brat," tightening his hold over your binded wrists as his pelvis smacks against yours in a uniform rhythm. "Don’t tell me you're cumming so soon. We haven't even started yet."

Your cheek rests on the hard mahogany desk, polished and clean as your eyes roll back from the way his cock just hits your g-spot with every thrust. The drool runs down your lips, too lust drunk to care and too traversed beyond reality to give him a verbal answer as he continues to assault your puffy folds with his shaft. Slick runs down your thighs, dripping on the floor as the room reeks with the combined juices of your arousal. He reaches down, pressing his thumb on your swollen bud and you're sent over the edge.

Shit!

How did this happen?

.

You have been caged your whole life.

Therefore, when freedom came knocking at your door, you didn't have any second thoughts from breaking free of the chains that binded you to a gilded cage. For you, freedom came in the form of college life.

If anyone from your highschool years saw you now, they wouldn't be able to recognize you with the 180 degree turn in personality, makeover and peer choices. A complete change. The most significant change could be your schedule. While you were living under the stern gaze of your parents, you had a timetable to maintain which prescribed when and how you should be present at particular places. That timetable was taken, crumbled up and thrown in the trashcan as soon as you got the gist of dormitory life. Besides, with your peers indulging in situations they shouldn't be, why should you hold back? (Like c'mon, you need to live your life as well)

Previously, you'd spend Friday nights in the confines of your bedroom while blasting your favourite playlist in your earphones and doing your homework. Now, the same music would boom but you are swaying your hips to it, bopping yourself and getting lost in the game of dance under the neon lights of the frat house. Red cups and beer pongs would escalate, which you readily partook in with the addition of forgettable one night stands. You told yourself that you liked the air of random hook ups while you were high, for it left you guessing that which brother of the fraternity you had fucked or not. While vodka and a night of reprieve was one thing, you looked forward to the coke. The very coke which once inhaled, made the euphoria burst in your system while ecstasy took over and you'd find yourself falling under the spell of intoxication.

Mind blank as a canvas and too high on serotonin levels, the fog of inebriation would cloud your eyes and you'd get lost in another midnight rhapsody. Can you blame yourself? College is meant for trying out all the pleasures of life, right? A hub for fuck boys and girls seeking validation from each other by fucking their daylights out. The minority who inclined themselves to academics were clearly missing out on all the joys life had to offer.

However, you didn't know that your favourite coke would be the reason of your downfall.

Maybe, you should have known better.

No– of course, you should have known better.

What were you thinking?

You should have stayed inside that night instead of going out to the same frat house, when you had an important physical chemistry exam the next day.

As far as you can remember, you were paired with a jock of the football team for flip cup. Although, hazed memories you noted the strawberry blond hair styled back and amber eyes. Maybe his name was John? Or Jean? Whatever, you only remember winning the game and getting your hands on the coke. Sooner than anyone had the time to comprehend, you were lining the powder on your finger edge and inhaling it generously.

Did it not raise a series of ooh's and aah's from the onlookers?

Like all the previous nights, your eyes were open wide with the crimson tint staining your sclera as you got lost in the ebullient maelstrom. Combined with the alcohol already running in your system, it didn't take long for the waves to crash ove. In this reverie you didn't realize when you were situated on the table, with grains of salt being sprinkled over your navel by your partner. He dipped his head down– mouth filled with tequila– swirling and lapping the warm muscle over your skin, feasting on the granules and you didn't even care with all your senses falling numb.

Anyone can guess what would be the outcome of attending an exam when the after effects of the powder fails to cease. With a pounding headache and being unaware of most of the answers, you can't say you were surprised to see your grade.

The capital F beside your name stares back at you from the mark list.

.

"Can't be that bad."

"It is."

"Not so," Your friend giggles, raking her fingers through her ash-blond hair. "It's only one exam, cheer up."

You bit your inner cheek, heaving a deep sigh. "This exam marks forty percect of my overall grade, Hitch. And with the way, my marks have gone down the drain, I don't think I'll even be able to pass this year."

That's an honest concern on your part because the final report would be sent to your parents as well and if they ever saw you failing one class, you don't know what hell they'll raise. Besides, the excuses of sickness and tougher lessons can only be used so far. (Plus, your heart thumped in your chest with the thought if they ever find out about this new lifestyle of yours... let's not think about it).

"You know," Hitch muses, leaning back on her Chair as she blows a strawberry bubblegum in her mouth. " You can ask for extra credit."

"Yeah sure," You don't bother to hide sarcastic tone, rolling your eyes and choosing to rest your chin on top of your palm. "There's no chance."

She raises an eyebrow, "Why not?"

"It's professor Ackerman," That almost comes out as a whine. "He is ruthless as he is, always with the poker look on his face and I can swear he won't even smile at a clown." 

A sheepish smile curls up her lips but before she can speak, you start again.

"Plus, I am already on his bad books. Do you think he'll be all unicorns and rainbows when I ask for credits?" You fold your hand over your chest, gritting your teeth as if the cause of your predicament is the man in question; he isn't but you need something to get off your vexation. "That's straight up walking in a lion's den and I am sure he will come for my head."

"Oh, girl..." She sighs, interlocking her fingers together and perching them over the tabletop. "But why would he even do that when you will give him a show?"

That catches your interest, "a show?"

"A show," She nods, the upper pair of her teeth is revealed as she smiles, waving her finger in a circular motion in the air. "Just follow my advice."

.

You have never heard an advice as bad as that.

Correction:

You have never found yourself following an advice as bad as that.

Still, you find yourself here. Outside your professor's office, gazing at the ivory sign engraved with the obsidian lettering – Levi Ackerman, while you contemplate on how much this plan can go wrong. (In your opinion, 100%).

However, you are desperate and your desperation has brought you here. So why not...?

You knock on the door. Once. Twice. Stating your name as you suck in a deep breath, squaring your shoulders.

Please don't let it be long.

A deep voice reverberates from inside, "State your business."

"I would... like to discuss about my grades. May I come in, sir?"

"Yes."

You breath in, the knob turns and you set a foot inside.

"Remember," Hitch says, crossing one of her leg over the another. "You gotta look desperate." The tilt of your head and parting of your lips, garners her to explain more. "The first two," She snaps her fingers to the collar of your shirt, "Unbuttoned."

"What?!" On instinct, you fold your hand over your chest, twisting your torso in the opposite direction. "Are you out of your mind?"

"You want to increase your grades or not?"

"I do but–"

"No buts," The girl shushes you with a finger over your lips. "You want to get your way through college, you follow me. Got that?"

Left with no choice, you find yourself nodding.

The clicks of your heel seems to echo in the vast expanse of his office. It's almost afternoon and the orange glow of the setting sun pours into the space marring it with the similar hues. Late classes are adjourned for the day as the marks were announced. On top of that, its Friday. Therefore, regular classes would be starting after the weekend. The campus is almosy empty except a few staff and students lurking around the corners; a perfect opportunity to follow the plan.

Your find your professor to be seated across his desk, engrossed in reading a file while a pen is nestled between his thumb and pointer. As soon as he is aware of your presence, he looks up at you.

Instead of halting, a good distance away from his desk, you are walking up to it. Letting yourself stop within a meter of his proximity.

"What do you need to discuss?"

Prompt and straight to the point—as expected.

Lips breaking into a grin, you spin a strand of your open hair around your fingers. Leaning forward–it's apparent, what you're aiming at–you speak, "I was wondering... if I could get some extra credit in your class, sir?"

"He is your professor, that's your minus," She states with a lilt of her mouth. "But you're his student, that's his minus."

Levi raises an eyebrow, "Extra credit, you say?"

"He is a man, after all. And all men are perverts, give them a show of your assets and they'll be dancing on your drums."

He continues with a twitch of his lip, "And why would I do that?" 

"Give him all the performance he needs," Her eyes darts south, she tugs on the fabric of your skirt."The shorter this is, the higher your grades will be."

"You seem to know all about their psyches." You comment, pinching your lips and smoothening the material over your knees.

That evokes a laugh,"Babe, how do you think I keep my grades up?"

By following the same advice she has given you.

In accordance to her, a face full of makeup with tits on show and the skirt raised enough to give a generous view of legs—one can make the professor's their very own puppets. So, once the same advice and opportunity is presented to you, why should you back down?

"Well," You start, plopping yourself on the chair across him, crossing your legs one over the other–hiking up your (already)shortened skirt. "I am sure we can work something out like..." arching your elbow on the table, you let your manicured fingers drum against your cheek; a seductive approach. This should work. "You don't want one of your students to be held back now, do you, sir?"

He stares at you for a solid minute. A blink of his eyes follow.

You shift in your position—offering him a rather salacious view of your cleavage. Come on. Your visage holds innocence akin to a child learning the first steps of the world.

One thing about Professor Ackerman that enthralls you is just how attarctive he could be despite his age. Probably a decade older than you but he certainly carries the enigma of a young man charmed with the maturity of someone his age. Gray eyes, dark bangs in an undercut and he just dresses so much better than all of the male peers you have encountered. And a lot better than all of your filthy hookups.

Even then, he is a man. Just look at it. The silence is stretching for a minute too long and dare you say, its almost suffocating.

While Levi's eyes are on you—something which you do want—he rather seems to be scrutinizing your behaviour than satisfy his inner perverse attitude.

Maybe he keeps this face even while jerking off.

That thought alone raises a cinch of chuckle to escape your mouth. His eyebrows furrow. At last, he speaks. "How long have you been in my class?"

Seriously? Is he so keen on continuing this game of back and forth. Shouldn't he be asking you how much grades you require by now?

"Patince is the key."

Hitch's words ring in your mind and you follow her again. "Since the start to second year?"

He crosses his arm over his chest, muscles flexing under his dress shirt as he leans back on his chair. You mark how there's a gleam in his eyes before he continues, "And how many exams have you taken until now?"

"Three? Why are you... asking that?"

"You'll know soon enough," he pauses, letting a string of tension to seep in through his body language. And as much as you don't want it to bother you, it is bothering you. "In which of those exams have you got a grade over sixty percent?"

"Um, uh sir–" You fumble over your words, raking your brain for any suitable response and while your grades is actually being discussed—a pang of exposure swirls in with the way you are dressed. "I don't remember..."

"Never."

"O-oh," Unease ripples through you, crumbling the calm veneer you are trying to maintain.

His gaze hardens, a tick of jaw and the creases on his forehead just shows he isn't in the mood for your performance. "Why?"

Only a low chuckle is released, attempting to depress the palpable tension."My bad... ah– you see, I don't have a good memory and that's why my grades are... well, you know."

"When have you ever cosulted me with the problem regarding your memory?" He cocks his head to the side, inverting the hourglass on his table. Shifting his attention back to you, he asks, "Besides, have you ever truly followed through my lesson in class? Ever tried to do your assignments by yourself?"

"Of course, I did," a clear cut lie but he doesn't have to know that. "But they are too difficult. You can't blame me, college is tough on its own and I have so many subjects to study–"

You wish to continue with your rant but the terse call of your name stops you on your tracks. His lips are curled down and he looks at you with utter disdain as if you were a bug. "If you have even paid a bit of attention in my class then you should know that I mark half of your grades by your attentiveness and student conduct. Something–" You swallow a lump in your throat, slumping your shoulders and hiding your chest from his gaze. "–you clearly lack and with the absolute shit you write on your answer sheets, you should know better than to expose your body in the name of discussion."

Blank.

You are completely blanked out.

What is there to say even?"

You chew on your lower lip, eyes flickering to anywhere but him. Clutching the mesh of your skirt in your hold. This meeting isn't unfolding like anything Hitch said about. You manage to exhale a breath, trying to hide your with your hairs, "Sir... I guess, I should take– I should leave now."

Only slightly you raise yourself from the chair, Levi speaks again, "So soon?" You sheepishly nod, giving way that this encounter wouldn't be to your favour. "We were just getting started. Besides, there's something more I need to discuss with you."

You look at him from beneath your lashes. It's funny how timid you are now. "Like what?"

"I've heard rumors of students getting their hands on question sheets by– let's say, means," He opens his drawer, pulling out a folder. "So... I played a little game with y'all. Changing the question paper, last minute was tedious- but doable." He twists his lips, picking out a A5 sized paper with contents hidden from you. He keeps his eyes on it while speaking again, "Humorously, you seem to answer only those questions perfectly which were leaked–"

"Excuse me?" You intervene, quickly. "I have no connection with this paper leak mess."

"Then how do you explain your tardiness with the paper, this time?" Steel eyes have shifted to you, "As much of a bratty student you can be, you aren't the type to completely fail unless–"

"You're just accusing me or something, I haven't done. When I say I have no connections with paper leak, I mean it."

"Then how do you explain your–"

"I don't fucking know. Just a coincidence or– whatever!"

"Coincidence? You really expect me to believe that?"

"It's not on me if you believe me or not. I have gave you my statement and you should know better than to accuse me of something just because you hate me."

"Very well, then" He tilts his head, shrugging his shoulders. "I will just have the dean rusticate you–"

"You can't do that. I didn't even know about all this."

"You want to tell me that you weren't cursing out loud while writing the paper? Don't try to lie, Zacharius told me about your indency in exam hall."

"That was because I was high on coke not— no, I–" Your eyes widen as soon as you realize your fumbling. Lips parted, you are more apprehended as the blood drains from your cheeks. "No, I- uh... I didn’t mean that, j-just a slip of tongue."

As for Levi, he merely stares back at you and... is that a smirk on his lips? It sure is. A triumphant ghost of a smirk directed at you while you began to drown in the whirlpool of despair. "At least, you remember that."

He flips both the paper to you and if your heart wasn't beating with a 10x speed before, it sure is now. Your jaw hangs open, shoulders becoming rigid and the air knocked off your lungs like you've been punches to the gut.

Pictures.

They are pictures, yes and it would have been fine of it was just that but it isn't. In the very pictures, you find yourself. One with a cigarette between your lips and from the background it is starkly evident that it's the college campus. The second is more precarious for you're clicked with some of your pals but it's shot in a way that only your face is visible while the group blows on a pot of Marijuana.

You wrestled with a deep-sated fear, eyes thoroughly scrutinizing each speck and corner of the photos—something, anything to prove that it isn't you. That it's framed, that all of it is a big misunderstanding. The dread of facing your professor overshadows all the protests stringing on your mouth; they won't even be let out if you try.

"It's a shame really," His voice echoes, the screeching of the chair is heard before he is sauntering over to the other end of the room. "I had better expectations from you."

You don't register the mocking call of your name, physically unable to. The adrenaline surges through your veins, goosebumps arising on your body with each passing second.

You need to leave. Run. Soon. Now.

You find yourself frozen in your place.

"I wonder what your parents would have to say–"

"No, sir." Instantly you crane your neck over to him, nails digging on the armrests of your chair. Your shoulders rise and fall as the hypertension settles in you. Your heart is thumping in your ears, fingers are trembling with anticipation and to add insult to the injury, darkness has started to commence. "Not my parents, please sir. Th-they– I don't know what they'll do to me. Plesse sir, j-just not that."

He leans against the door of his office, gazing at you with mere casualty, "You think you are in the position to make requests?" His irises flicks to the corner of the room. "You've made your bed. Now lie on it."

"Sir, please–" You are on the verge where you wouldn't have a second thought before begging on your knees. Something's pooling in your eyes and it stings as bad as your nails on the wooden armrests. "Anything but that. I will complete all of your assignments and I'll personally improve my grades without anyone's help. Sir, just one chance, please."

He huffs, twisting his lips as if a mirthful play is being presented to him. "Why should I believe you? Have you ever given me a reason to know you're reliable?"

"Sir, I have to try." Instantly, you stand up, marching over to him. "And– and I know I've been indecent–"

"Irresponsible and obnoxious, as well."

"Yes," It's painful but you have no other choice. "I know and I am sorry. Really sorry, just give me another chance."

He tips his head towards you, narrowing his eyes, "You think, you're redeemable?"

"Yes, sir. Of course, I am ready to do anything to prove it to you."

His eyes sparkles with something you can't decipher, "very well," He straightens up, taking a singular step towards you—only now, you're aware of how limited proximity but before you can contemplate, he speaks, "Let's start your first lesson on redemption."

[honeylations]

SEO DOAH x FEM!READER

Prompt: Doah studies as hard as she can all the time and luckily as her girlfriend, you’re there to help her take all that stress away

Warnings/Notes: eating 🐱, fingering, sub Doah, g!p reader, pretend the pyramid game itself does not exist so we can be peaceful

A/N: for our cutie patootie Doah and also for that anon that requested :3

It was around 7:45am when you walked into the classroom with your arms stretched out wide, seeing that the whole class was almost present.

But your eyes immediately moved to the front where your cute girlfriend was sitting, already going through one text book as her hand scribbled note after note.

Who would’ve thought you’d date such a cute quiet nerd? She was a big comparison to you. Obnoxiously loud, social, yet laid back with school work.

“Morning baby” you whispered in her ear and kissed her temple.

“Mhm. Good morning” she muttered in return.

Her eyes didn’t even leave the page.

“Wow. At this point, you love that text book more than me” you pouted, breaking Doah’s concentration.

She finally looked at you with her boba eyes, obviously trying to seem angry but anything she does just ended up being cute. “I’m studying”

“Oh really? I couldn’t tell” you joked while she scowled, pulling at your cheek.

“Sometimes I wonder how we ended up being together in the first place”

You winced from the pinch. “Ouch. I was literally asking myself that a few seconds ago. I guess it doesn’t matter, it makes our love story a bit cuter don’t you think?”

“You have a way with words, Choi Y/n” Doah smiled and looked down at her text book again.

You finally took the seat beside her and made a quick move to kiss her cheek before she could dodge it. “Mwuah”

“Stop it, I need to focus”

“Baby, you stress yourself too much! It’s time for a break... Are you even listening to me?”

Your girlfriend hummed.

“Doah baby, I’m serious. You need to remove all that stress before it eats you up” You scolded and the shorter girl removed her gaze from whatever paragraph she was on.

“And how can I magically remove all this stress, Y/n? Hm? Intrigue me”

Taking her words as a challenge, you slid an arm around her waist and pulled her closer that her chair scraped the floor. Doah gasped and her hands immediately went onto your shoulders.

“W-What are you doing?”

“You really wanna know how I can remove that stress? It’s an easy math equation. My mouth plus your body equals no more stress! Tada!

“C-Choi Y/n! We’re in public!” She whisper yelled, looking around to check if any of her classmates had heard.

You gave her your famous charming eyes, the one that made her fall for you from the start. “Please, my love?”

Oh and your charming words too.

“Behave”

You only smirked and leaned your lips close to her ear. “Don’t you miss my tongue, baby? I promise I’ll let you study in peace after”

Doah let out a shaky sigh. “You really promise?”

“Certain”

And just like that, you two were hiding in the teacher’s lounge thanks to Doah’s privileges. All doors were locked and the curtains had all been shut for privacy.

Although you weren’t entirely against the idea of an audience, your girlfriend would definitely burn you alive if any exhibitionism happened.

Doah was in your lap, her glasses had been discarded somewhere and her uniform was unbuttoned. She was releasing adorable moans while you lapped at her neck, being yanked away by the hair just when you were about to bite.

“No marks, Choi”

You couldn’t utter a quick response when she crashed your lips together, her small tongue pushing its way inside. It was an invitation for you to suck at it, letting it explore more of her mouth that the mix of your salivas were dripping down your chins.

It was so hot.

You were already painfully rock hard, the bulge poking at your girlfriend’s clothed entrance.

The shorter girl pulled away, admiring the string of saliva that connected your tongues. She moved off your lap to lie down on the long couch, bringing you with her.

She took her underwear off but every other clothing stayed. “I’m not taking anything else off. You’ve got 10 minutes to make me cum and then we’re out of here”

“Baby. I only need 5 minutes” you let out an arrogant scoff, quickly kissing her lips before shuffling down to rest in between her spread legs.

You pushed her skirt up and felt your mouth water at the sight of her soaked pussy. Not planning on wasting any more time, you leaned your lips towards her clit and sucked on it gently.

Doah’s back automatically arched, her hands going into your hair. “A-Ah!”

You broke away from her clit to move even further down, sliding your long tongue inside her cunt, groaning from her taste.

Your girlfriend’s hips started to gyrate, relishing in the feeling of you eating her out so good.

“O-Oh yes Y/n. So good baby s-so good!”

“Fuck I missed this” you pulled your tongue out to mutter before diving straight back in, wrapping your arms around your girlfriend’s soft thighs to hold her down.

Doah was a moaning mess, one hand was still in your hair while the other had pushed her bra up to toy with her nipples.

“Don’t stop please, baby”

You decided to return your attention to her clit, sucking harsher than before while plunging two fingers inside her wet hole.

You looked up as your ministrations continued and wow it was a sight to see.

Your girlfriend’s head was thrown back and the light that peaked out from the curtains shined a small spotlight on her body. Like she was an angel.

It encouraged you to double your efforts, thrusting your fingers faster, kissing her clit hungrily, intending to leave her in a sobbing mess.

You were almost there anyways.

“Ah, ah, ah….Y/n I’m going to cum!” She squealed cutely.

Your fingers reached deeper, feeling her walls clench around you. Doah released a final cry as she fisted your hair, legs shaking when you continued to clean her up and your fingers moving to a slower pace.

Pulling away from her, you looked up from between her legs and smiled proudly. Doah’s cheeks went redder at the sight of your mouth completely soaked with her cum.

“That felt so good” she sighed and flopped her head back on the couch.

You crawled up and captured her lips in another sloppy kiss, moving to the side to hide in her neck while you started panting. Doah felt movement between you both and she looked down, seeing you jerking your big cock.

“Mmm Doah baby” you whined.

“Keep stroking your cock like that” she whispered, letting you grunt and lick at her skin while you chased your orgasm.

“Hah…hah fuck gonna cum, Doah…”

“Sit up, let me see you”

You did as told and admired your fucked out girlfriend below you. Her tits were exposed and her cunt was still leaking more cum. You scooped up some of that liquid with your fingers and used it as lube, the hand on your cock moving faster.

“H-Holy shit Doah!”

“Here baby. Cum all over me” Your girlfriend husked and pushed her breasts out.

You aimed your cock towards her plump tits and exploded, closing your eyes from the intensity before laying on top of your girlfriend.

She caressed your back gently.

“Thank you, baby” you heard her say.

It was rare for her to call you by nicknames.

“For?” You panted.

“Taking away all the stress. I love you”

[slytherinshua]

MATCHING DINOSAURS

genre. fluff. warnings. kissing. pairing. anton x fem!reader. wc. 1k. a/n. @eternalgyu here's ur anton delusions <3

“I have a present for you!” You said excitedly, pushing Anton’s back towards your bedroom.

“What is it? Should I be scared?” He looked back at you, bewildered, but still allowed you to drag him towards the bedroom door.

“Why would you be scared? It’s cute, I promise.” You reassured him, pulling out a gift box from the closet and setting it on the bed. Anton sat down beside you, peering curiously at the medium sized blue wrapped box.

“It’s not even my birthday…” He mumbled with a laugh, picking up the box.

“Just open it!” You urged him, getting impatient to see his reaction to the cute present you had picked out at the store earlier.

Anton was soft and pure, so warm and gentle to everyone and everything that he didn’t even know how to raise his voice. He probably couldn’t even hurt an ant. Knowing this, you should’ve predicted that he would be the type to unwrap the present slowly and carefully to make sure the wrapping paper didn’t rip. He picked at the tape that was holding the paper together carefully until it separated from the box. 

It was a little endearing to watch, but also tested your patience even further. You were so excited to see his reaction and to see him use the present that you could barely think of anything else. But one of the things that had improved once you had started dating Anton was your patience, so you sat and waited as he unwrapped the present at his own pace. 

“You’re making me nervous by staring so hard.” He laughed shyly, his cheeks flushed as he finally slid the wrapping paper off the box, successfully saving its form without ripping it so it could be reused on another occasion. 

“I can’t miss your reaction.” You muttered, leaning even closer to stare even harder which caused both of you to giggle. 

The anticipation in the room was probably absurdly high for the occasion, but something about this little gift that you had gotten for him on a whim was exhilarating for both of you. You may have just been in your crappy small apartment, the lights dimmed to save electricity and the space running a little colder to save on the heating bill, but it still felt like it was one of the most precious moments of your life.

Your boyfriend slid off the lid of the box, revealing the contents of it. His face broke out into a huge smile once he saw what it was, quickly turning to face you again with his excitement. You smiled satisfactorily. This was the reaction you had been anticipating all day.

Anton picked up the set of pyjamas from the box, still admiring them carefully. They were a light green colour with a cute print of brachiosauruses all over in a darker green. When you saw them in the store, you immediately had to buy them for him. There was no way you would be able to leave them hanging on the rack.

“Guess what else?” You prompted. Anton turned to you, humming curiously in response, still holding his pair of pyjamas in his hands.

You pulled out another pair of pyjamas from your dresser drawer and held them up. These ones matched Anton’s, but were pink with triceratopses instead. You grinned and he giggled.

“They’re cute.” He commented, blushing at the thought of matching with you.

Once you were both changed into the comfy new pyjama sets, you settled down to watch a movie which had been your original plan for this evening. Cuddled next to Anton would always be your favourite place to be, tucked comfortably under his arm. He rested his head on top of yours. Your eyes were stuck on the movie screen while his eyes were closed, enjoying the pleasant scent of your hair.

“Did you get new shampoo?” He asked in a whisper, catching your attention enough for you to look up at him.

“Yeah. Is it good?” You smiled up at him, your eyes crinkling slightly— the sight made Anton’s chest feel warm.

“Smells like grapefruit.” He noted, breathing in the scent again, smiling against your hair, his nose buried in it. The feeling made a million butterflies start to dance in your stomach. 

You both focused back on the movie, watching mostly in silence, though sometimes you or Anton would let out soft giggles at something funny in the movie. Time went by quickly and before you knew it the end credits were rolling on the screen. Anton reached over to grab the remote and turn off the screen while you just snuggled deeper into the soft blankets you both were under.

There was a bit of a shift as you both got comfortable and ready for sleeping. You liked to fall asleep in a position that was still close and cuddled up to Anton, but at a distance where you could still look at him for your last whispered conversation before finally falling to the depths of your dreamland.

Anton smiled at you, cheek squished adorably against the pillow, his left hand resting against your waist and tracing the small pink triceratops on the fabric of your pyjama pants.

“Thank you for the present, lovely.”

“They were too cute not to get.” You grinned, eyes closing as tiredness swelled through your body. You loved falling asleep next to Anton, and you could feel the drowsiness taking over quickly.

“Don’t fall asleep yet.” Anton whined softly. You forced your eyes open to catch his pout before they fell shut again.

“Why? I’m tired.” You mumbled.

“You haven’t given me a goodnight kiss yet.”

You laughed softly at his response, “Come get your goodnight kiss then.” 

It didn’t take long for Anton to take you up on your offer, giving you just a small gentle kiss on the lips before settling back down on his pillow.

“I love you.” You whispered to him, teetering on the edge of awakeness and slumber. You fell asleep before you could hear him say it back to you, but those 3 words followed you into your dreams for the night, bringing warmth to your chest and the perfect familiar comfort that was always an effect of Anton.

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