#*THROWS EVERYTHING OUT OF THE WAY* HELLO *FURIOUSLY WAVING* but then I was shy to go close and then | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

atinydise · 4 years ago

Text

Ateez reacting to Seonghwa being a “grown man”

❦ Genre: Suggestive.

❦ Pairing: OT8.

❦ Word count: 12k8.

❦ Requested: Yes, thank you! 🦋

❦ Masterlist.

HONGJOONG

You were dating Seonghwa for 3 months already. Hongjoong could remember well the first time Seonghwa introduced you to the group. You seemed really shy. You stuttered a lot and followed your boyfriend everywhere. Now, you were almost a part of the family. Hongjoong always thought that you and Seonghwa were made to be with each other. Your shyness was your main common point. And your clinginess as well. Seonghwa and you were always together. So much that everyone thought you would end arguing. But you never did. In conclusion, it was not a coincidence to see you everywhere. The leader didn’t tilt when he saw you exiting the KQ building, today. You simply waved at him. He noticed that your hair was bit messy and your lipstick faded away a bit. But he simply waved back at you. He headed to the vocal lesson room to help Seonghwa with his vocal part for the upcoming album. “Hi Hwa,” he greeted Seonghwa joyfully. “Wow it’s hot here.” Seonghwa blushed slightly at his remark, “not really.” Hongjoong stared few seconds at his friend. “Your hair is messy.” “Y-Yes. I didn’t have enough time this morning.” He stuttered, trying to give a good form at his hair. “Okay anyway! Are you-” the leader paused. “What?” Hongjoong pointed at Seonghwa’s shirt. “What?” At this moment Hongjoong tilted. “You! You & Y/N!” “What?” Repeated the eldest member, praying that Hongjoong didn’t understand the situation. “You have lipstick on your shirt! The same she was wearing when I saw her not even 5 minutes ago.” “Joong...” “Did you just? Here?” he asked, disgusted by the thought of Seonghwa’s naked butt sitting here. “Hongjoong calm down.” Ordered Seonghwa. “Sinner! You fucked at work!” He pointed at the couch. “That’s why it’s hot.” He mentioned. “It was not expected.” He facepalmed. “And this smell!” He grabbed his MacBook. “The smell?” “Yes! The sex smell!” He shouted before leaving. Seonghwa exhaled loudly, “I’m done…” When everyone will know about it, it’s going to be awkward.

YUNHO

Yunho woke up when he heard the entrance door slamming loudly. When he saw that San wasn’t on his bed anymore, he rushed outside, maybe the manager was there. But instead, he saw you removing your coat. “Hello Yunho!” “Hello Y/N!” He smiled at you. “Sorry for waking you up,” you apologized. “It’s okay. Now that I am awake, I’ll take my breakfast.” “Sure.” You smiled. “I think Seonghwa is till sleeping then I’m going to take a nap.” Yunho nodded, “rest well!” The tall boy went to the kitchen, but in the same time he grabbed his earphones on the coffee table. He liked to listen to music while enjoying his cereals. When he finally started to eat, he noticed that the bass on the song music was kind of offbeat. At first, he didn’t mind it. It was probably a lag from his phone or the music app itself. But 2 songs later, the problem wasn’t solved. Yunho threw his earphones on the table and focused back on his cereals. But these knocks were still present. He stood up and searched were it was coming from. As more he walked, more the noise leaded him to Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s room. Effectively, knocks were coming from there. Quickly, Yunho understood the situation. “Oh my god!” He whispered going back to the kitchen. He plugged his earphones as fast as possible, but the external noise was still there. To avoid the awkwardness, he rushed to his room but tripped on a slipper. He got back on his feet quickly and he grabbed his shoes. Seonghwa entered the living-room. “Yunho are you okay? I heard something falling?” The tall boy blushed furiously; he couldn’t say that he heard you banging like rabbits. “I just tripped.” He simply replied. “Oh okay… where are you going?” He asked. “I don’t know but not here!” He replied, leaving the dorm. “What’s going on with him?” You asked, coming behind your boyfriend. “No idea.” “Do you think he heard us? The bedhead was bumping really loudly.” “No... Impossible. He always listening to music when he takes his breakfast.” “I’m not really sure…” you crossed your arms on your chest. “But I hope so because I won’t be able to look at him ever again.”

YEOSANG

Yeosang was peacefully walking down the street. He needed to practice with Seonghwa for an upcoming special performance. At first, he was really excited about this whole opportunity but now, he was a bit confused. Seonghwa is a perfectionist, he needs to be perfect at everything. But it was before, Seonghwa’ve met you. When you started to date, all the members noticed that he was a lot more absent and busy. It wasn’t an issue at all, they were happy for him. But for Yeosang, it was a little bit more confusing. Anyway, with time, maybe he could understand why Seonghwa was so absent or in rush to see you. Yeosang entered KQ building and greeted politely the staff who were already present and called the elevator. Before leaving the dorm, he texted Seonghwa, just to say that he was coming but his Hyung hadn’t seen the message yet. “He’s probably already training.” Thought the blond boy. As fast as possible, he reached the third floor. When he stepped out of the elevator, he heard music bumping through the walls. For sure he was already practicing. Yeosang rushed there and opened the door loudly. “Hyung! I’m rea-” Everybody froze in the room. Yeosang was standing at the door frame, while Seonghwa stared at him, his hands were still cupping your butt. You immediately, tried to fix your dress, embarrassed. “My eyes! My eyes!” Shouted Yeosang covering his sight from this kinky view. “Shh! You are going to alarm the whole company!” “But why you needed to do it here?” He rubbed his eyes, trying to forget the terrible scene. “It was unexpected,” you claimed shyly. “That’s why you are always with her.” He stated. “You will understand later!” Added Seonghwa, unbothered. “I don’t care! Next time just take a room.” Shouted the boy finally entering the room. “I think I should go,” you whispered shyly. Seonghwa nodded and tried to pull you in a hug before leaving, but Yeosang interposed between you two. “Don’t touch each other anymore, especially when I’m here!” “This is going to be a nightmare.” Sighed the eldest member.

SAN

“Seonghwa and Y/N kissing on a tree! Smooch smooch!” Sang San. Seonghwa growled, “stop San...” “Never,” he stuck his tongue out. It’s been 2 days that San was singing this cheesy song non-stop. It started when he spotted a kiss Seonghwa and you kissing in the living-room, thinking that nobody was there. You always made sure to show affection to each other in private. You were simply holding hands or hugging sometimes but in 4 months of relationship, none of the members saw you kissing. Unfortunately for both of you, San woke up thirsty. He got up and looked for a bottle of water. Right when he entered the living-room, he saw you and his Hyung kissing shyly on the couch. It was a pure and cute kiss. “Ooooh,” giggled San. “So cute!” “Shouldn’t you be asleep?” Asked Seonghwa a bit mad and shy at the sudden San’s comment. “I was thirsty,” he winked going in the kitchen. “Seonghwa and Y/N kissing on a tree. Smooch Smooch!” “I’m going to kill him...” whispered Seonghwa, laying his head on your laps. You thought that San would stop the next morning, but he didn’t, and your boyfriend was losing his patience. It was a bit awkward for him. He was used to be a shy boy. Seeing San evoking a private moment made him really shy. You called Seonghwa the night just to talk about his day, but you were cut by San singing through the phone. “Seonghwa and Y/N kissing on a tree! Smooch smooch!” “AAH STOP STOP!” Yelled Seonghwa completely done. “You know what? Kissing isn’t the only thing we did.” “Seonghwa,” you tried to get his attention. “Sometimes we are cuddling! But not the simply hug. The special you do when nobody is around a.k.a SEX.” “Park Seonghwa!” You tried to stop him. “And you know what? It’s sooo so so good! Y/N is better at sex than kissing.” “PARK SEONGHWA!” You yelled enough louder for him to hear it. At the way you shouted his name through the phone, Seonghwa realized what he just said out loud. San’s mouth was open widely, not believing what he just heard. “YAH PARK SEONGHWA!” He yelled again. “Are you crazy?!” “I- I- San!” He stuttered. “I need to erase this thought of you and Y/N...” he said, faking to throw up. This was unexpected.

MINGI

The group was practicing peacefully. The upcoming comeback needed all their attention and skills. They had been practicing for almost 4 hours in raw, without taking break. “Hyung why don’t you remove your turtleneck? It’s hot here!” Asked Mingi a bit worried about Seonghwa’s health. “No, it’s good.” “Are you sure? We don’t want you to faint!” He insisted. “I’m okay Mingi.” He patted his shoulder. The tall boy shrugged, not believing this since the choreography was intense. Few minutes later, they decided to stop the practice for today. They all went to the locker’s room, except Seonghwa. He simply said that he would take a shower at the dorm. Mingi found his behavior really strange. They were used to take a shower together since they’re trainee. Why was he suddenly so distant? Seonghwa needed to persuade Mingi once again that everything was okay. In vain, but at least now, he was alone in the practice room. Seonghwa made sure they were all gone before removing his turtleneck, he was suffocating inside. He stepped in front of the mirror and stared at the not one, but at the 3 hickeys you’ve left all over his neck. “Ah... Y/N...” he sighed. “Hyung, have you seen my-” started Mingi, entering the room. “My... my- HICKEYS.” He shouted pointing at Seonghwa. “Don’t yell!” Rushed his friend closing the door before someone else see it. “It’s not a big deal...” he focused back at his reflection on the mirror. “Did- Y/N made these big hickeys?” Seonghwa smirked, “she did. And this is not the only one thing she does.” Mingi hid his ears behind his hands, “I don’t want to hear! LALALALALA!” Seonghwa sneered at the shy member. “This is why you were late this morning?” Asked Mingi outraged. “I think you don’t want to know.” He winked back, putting his shirt back. Mingi was about to reply when Yunho entered. “You are not coming Mingi?” “Guess what!” He turned around to face his best friend. Seonghwa pinched Mingi’s arm discreetly. Making him understand that he needed to stay quiet and that only him should know about this. “Hey!” Mingi glanced at his Hyung, who faked that nothing happened. “So? Guess what?” Insisted Yunho. “Finally... nothing important. Let’s take a shower.” He claimed running away from the eldest member.

WOOYOUNG

Wooyoung went back to the dorm earlier than expected. He met his friend around a cool and fun dinner. He loved to spend time with his friends that he can’t meet often. The boy was in a really good mood tonight. When he unlocked the dorm’s door. He spotted your sneakers next to the entrance door. He concluded that you were spending the night here. Quietly, because it was already 3AM, he went to his room to sleep, not even bothering to wear his pajama. Instead of slipping under the sheet, he sniffed at his shirt. He could smell the strong Soju smell on it. “Maybe I should take a shower...” he whispered disgusted by his own scent. Going back to the hallway, he headed to the bathroom. He was so absorbed by the scent, and the sleepiness didn’t help neither, that he didn’t notice the light coming through the door, signaling that everyone was already inside. His brain froze, along with his body when he opened the door. Why? Because he wasn’t expecting to see Seonghwa head resting against the mirror and you in front of him, on your knees. “Wooyoung?” You gasped in horror. “Woo- why are you talking ab-” Seonghwa who didn’t spot his friend yet, was confused. But when you pointed at the door, he understood what was going on. “Shit!” The eldest member put his sweatpants correctly while you were trying to hide behind your boyfriend. “Sorry!” Apologized Wooyoung closing the door. So shocked and embarrassed he rushed back to his bedroom and tried to fall asleep as fast as possible. The next morning, all the members were already awake when Wooyoung got up. Just when he left his room, you exited Seonghwa’s room. You blushed furiously, avoiding his stare, but still bowing to greet him. To tense the atmosphere a lot more, Seonghwa appeared behind you. Wooyoung just ran away to the kitchen before his Hyung could say anything. You both joined the rest of the group, trying to act normal as possible. “How was your diner Wooyoung?” Asked San. “You were so happy yesterday when you left.” “Good. It was fun.” “Fun only?” Added San. “I thought you would say something juicier.” Wooyoung gulped. He was interiorely struggling to keep the sin he saw yesterday for himself. “You know what is juicy?!” He stood up, giving up. “Wooyoung no!” Yelled Seonghwa. “Sorry I can’t keep that for me!” “What are you taking about?” Questioned Hongjoong. “While you were all sleeping... these 2 were banging in the bathroom!” “Oh god...” you sighed, hiding your face behind your hands. Everyone was shocked. Of course, they understood that sex was one of the important things in a relationship. But they never expected Seonghwa to be sexually active. He always seemed so shy.

JONGHO

“And don’t forget to clean the living-room!” Shouted Seonghwa heading to the bathroom. It was Jongho’s turn to clean the dorm with his eldest Hyung. And honestly, he hated that. Seonghwa was like a tyrant when it comes to housework. Today, the maknae was assigned to his bedroom, the kitchen and the living-room. It was almost 4PM and the living-room was so messy that he thought it would take at least 3 hours to clean entirely. Before ending procrastinating and argue with Seonghwa, Jongho rushed to clean all the surfaces possible. He made sure to not see any dust. While he was tidying the magazine on the coffee table, he saw one of your earrings there. How he knew it was yours? Because Seonghwa was always talking about this. It was the first gift he gave you and every time you wore it, he couldn’t help but to be soft and ask all the members to say how gorgeous you look with these earrings. The maknae just put in on a side and focused back on his task. Now, he was tidying all the cushions and blankets on the couch spread out everywhere on the sofa. Jongho lifted the biggest one. He was clearly not expecting to see an empty condom pack here. He needed to know who left it here. If the manager had saw it, they would all get scolded so bad. “Hyung!” Yelled Jongho enough louder for his friend to hear it. “What?” He replied, coming in the room. Jongho pointed at the empty pack on the couch. Seonghwa gasped, completely panicked. “Forget about this okay?” “Wait... it’s yours?” Asked Jongho. Jongho never imagined that Seonghwa was sexually active and the type of man to do it on the couch. Where other people sit every day. And by “other people”, it includes himself. “Just forget about that.” He repeated. “You never saw it okay?” “Okay...” he replied. “Good.” At this awkward moment, the maknae saw a good opportunity to stop this cleaning session earlier than expected. “I won’t say it... only if you finish to clean the living-room. I’m tired.” He said sitting on the couch, but his expression changed from pride to disgust, when he remembered what you did there. “What? No, it’s your turn.” “Okay... I guess that Hongjoong would like to know that you and Y/N-.” “Okay! I’ll do it!” He changed his mind, not wanting the leader to know about this privacy. Jongho knew that sex was good but using it to manipulate people was better than sex itself.

427 notes · View notes

dragonologist-in-the-making · 4 years ago

Text

And Now I’m Your Favourite Person

Pairing: Remus x reader

Request: Hi babe Remus x reader where they are both best friends since Hogwarts (with a crush) and now they are both teachers in the castle all the students, even harry insists that they should dating, that they have a good couple and that they are the best teachers Remus in the end if he invites her out. Happy and fluff end🥺 pleaseeeeeeeee

A/N: Thank you for the request, nonnie!!! It came at just the right time, I was needing some good Remus love and I literally wrote this so quickly, I couldn’t stop. I hope you like it, I really loved writing it!! Ultimate Fluff Ahead, I warn you.

Wordcount: 2.3K

The papers were collected, everyone was standing up from their desks and before she knew it she was outside of the hall flying into Remus’ open arms.

“I think I did it!” She exclaimed, the post-exam relief washing over her and bringing a bright smile to both of their faces. “Did you get question four?” she asked, pulling back but their arms still attached to the other.

“Yes! Did you get question seven?” he asked, just as excited as her. She nodded energetically, removing her grip from Remus as their three friends wandered over, a blush rising on both of their cheeks as they looked away from each other.

“We’ve officially finished our N.E.W.T.S!” James laughed, swinging an arm over each of their shoulders as the whole group laughed, free of the stress which had been weighing them down for months. “We are going to party so hard tonight.” Sirius chimed in. “One last night before we all go our separate ways.”

“Hardly,” y/n laughed. “You’re moving in with James, Lils and I are moving in together. We’ll see each other all the time, this isn’t an end.”

“It’s a beginning.” Remus finished, smiling around James at her, his eyes sparkling. “Oh god, it’s happening again. I gotta move.” James said, pulling his arms back and moving beside Sirius, who was laughing as the two teens were once again blushing furiously.

“Come on, Hogsmead trip before the party?” Sirius asked. James and Peter nodded, following him out of the entrance hall into the grounds, Remus turning to y/n and offering her his hand, silently asking if she wanted to join.

She took his hand in her own, relishing in the warmth as she interlaced their fingers, pulling him into a run beside her as they caught up with their friends in the sunshine, looking forward to their lives as graduates.

…

“Hello Harry.” Y/n smiled down at the baby she was cradling in her arms, feeling like her heart was melting as his tiny fingers grabbed onto her single index finger, bright green eyes, the copy of Lily’s looking back at her. “I never get bored of looking after you, your mummy and daddy might just find you missing one day.” He gurgled back at her and her smile stretched even wider, not even listening to the soft footsteps padding into the room.

“Are you planning to steal our baby?” Lily asked, and y/n pulled harry closer to her chest defensively.

“I don’t think it’s stealing if he comes happily.” She responded, finally looking away from the baby she was carrying to where her friend was stood, and spotted two men walking into the room. “Besides, Remus would help me hide him, wouldn’t you?”

“In a heartbeat.” He responded, coming to stand next to her and admire Harry too. “I can’t believe how he’s a carbon copy of you, James.” James and Lily had soon left for their date night, leaving y/n and Remus in charge of the infant.

“They really are precious, aren’t they?” She asked in a quiet voice, watching him sleep in Remus’ arms as she sat next to him on the sofa, their legs touching. “Do you want one?”

“I suppose, having a baby of my own would be nice.” He answered, their voices hushed, trying not to wake Harry. “Do you?”

“One day, yeah.” She nodded, feeling his gaze turn on her. “With the right person, nothing would make me happier.”

…

She apparated outside the door to his flat, barely able to keep herself up as she pounded on the door, waiting for an answer. She didn’t have to wait long, however, the door swung open to reveal Remus, his eyes as red and swollen as hers was, wearing an old, oversized sweater of his.

“It can’t be true, Rem.” She sobbed, falling into his arms as he closed the door behind her, his own shoulders shaking as he held her close. “No, they’re not gone, Lily and James can’t be gone.” The tears were sliding down her face as she sobbed loudly, crying so hard she couldn’t breathe.

They both slid to the floor, grieving together, clinging to each other in an effort to not feel like they had been left alone in the world, to remind themselves that no matter what, they had each other. They sat there for hours, until there was nothing left in them to grieve, until they had exhausted themselves so much that they passed out where they were, on the floor, still holding onto each other.

Y/n woke up to light streaming in through the windows, the sky unnaturally sunny for the pain that they were experiencing. She pushed herself up and off the floor, ignoring the aches all over her body, making her way over to the kettle, setting two mugs on the side Remus stirred on the floor. With a groan and a stretch, he came to join her, sitting opposite each other, both holding their mugs and trying to absorb the warmth.

“What do we do now?” she was the first to break the silence, her voice quiet but may as well have been a shout by the way it rang through the air. He reached out for her hand, resting his on top of hers, and even now, even when their world was ending, she couldn’t help the butterflies that erupted in her stomach at his touch.

“Now, we stay together. We move on. We live, but we never forget.”

“Just me and you, Rem.”

“Me and you.”

…

She sat in the courtyard, their favourite hang out from their days in Hogwarts, anxiously waiting for the blonde haired boy. When he appeared, aged since the time they spent here, having been through things neither of them would have imagined, she jumped to her feet, meeting him in the middle. “So?” she asked, barely able to get the words out in case she was given a response she didn’t want.

“I guess we’re both coming back to Hogwarts.” She squealed at his words, throwing her arms around his neck and squeezing him tightly as he lifted her up and spun her in a circle.

“I’m so proud of you, Rem.” She whispered once he had set her down, looking up at him, admiring his face, all the old scars and the new. She hadn’t realised how close they had gotten until an owl screeched overhead, disturbing the peace and causing the pair to jump apart from each other. “Well, Professor Lupin, let’s go and start preparing to go back to school.”

…

The school year had started, and they both knew this was where they were meant to be. Finally in a stable job, able to help young people through their troubles, and they both adored spending time with Harry and getting to know the person he was growing up to be. And as always, being in each other’s company was all they wanted, and were glad to have ample opportunity for.

Y/n was sat at her desk, marking some papers in her free time, trying not to let the work pile up and overwhelm her, when there was a soft knock at the door. She looked up to see the boy she had held as a baby, and smiled, ushering him in and offering him a seat next to her that she conjured up with a wave of her wand. “Do you want a tea? Have some chocolate, I’m sure Remus left some here on his last visit.” She mumbled, pulling open drawers and searching for the sweet treat her best friend loved so much. She finally found it, a bar of Honeydukes’ finest, and offered it to Harry, who took it gratefully.

“So how long have you and Professor Lupin been dating?” he asked, causing y/n to choke on the sip of tea she had taken and cough loudly in shock. “We aren’t, just long friends is all.” She managed to reply eventually.

“That’s not what the school thinks.” He laughed, “Everyone thinks you’re together, it’s near enough impossible to find you without the other. How long have you known each other then?”

“Since our first day here.” She smiled at the memory of the shy, guarded boy who smiled kindly at her when she joined his carriage in the train. “We’ve always done everything together. We would study together, plan the greatest pranks together, we set your parents up with each other – you’re welcome, and then we babysat you together, too. We even moved in together for a while, when your – when, when we were the only ones we had left.” She finished, her voice a lot smaller than when she had started. “And now we’re teaching together.” She brightened her voice, trying not to let Harry dwell on his parents any more than she knew he already must.

“And you’re telling me you went through all that together, and you still don’t love each other?” he asked, a disbelieving look on his face. Y/n shrivelled slightly in her seat. If even Harry, quite possibly the most oblivious boy she had met after his father, could see straight through her, then Remus surely did too and would have known how she felt all this time? She knew his silence throughout the years was an answer of sorts, and she had learned to be okay with that, in her own way.

“Of course I love him.” She sighed, throwing a smile his way, knowing the only way she could get through this was with a half lie. “But who said that had to be a romantic thing?” Harry nodded, finally letting the topic drop although she had a feeling that he wasn’t convinced in her words. He stayed in her office, talking about various things (Hagrid’s creatures, Snape’s detentions, upcoming Quidditch games) for a few more hours, until she shooed him back to his common room before he was caught out after curfew. A few minutes after he had gone, and she had managed to turn back to her papers, there was another knock at her door. Would she ever get these done?

She looked up, and all the irritability in her flooded out at the sight of who was there. She beamed at Remus as he walked further into the room, closing the door behind him and leaning against her desk. “Harry told me you were here.” He smiled at her, and she felt her heart race. Being back in their old school had done nothing but amplify all her old feelings for the boy, and she felt like a seventeen year old again whenever he was around. It was no wonder the school had these rumours flying around.

“Been looking, have you?” she handed him what was left of the chocolate she had shared with Harry, laughing at the way his eyes lit up in delight at the simple treat.

“What, is it a crime to look for my favourite person?”

“And now I’m your favourite person.” She smiled, a hint of sadness creeping up on her at the thought of her conversation with Harry earlier. How all he meant was best friend, and it would never be anything more.

“No, you’ve always been my favourite person.” His green eyes were soft, looking down at her with a rare emotion, one she didn’t catch often and could never quite figure out what it was when she did.

“Remus, I-”

“No, y/n, I want to say something, and I don’t want to be scared into not saying it again by my own brain. I know the rumours that are going around, about us. It’s funny, really. A whole new student body and yet the rumour about us has managed to stay in these walls. And I, Merlin this is difficult, I never wanted it to just be a rumour, and I don’t now. I didn’t want you to be in love with a monster, but you’d been by my side so long and you’d convinced me that maybe I wasn’t a monster, and I was going to tell you, I was ready. James was helping me, and then… After that nothing just felt like the right time, I couldn’t risk losing you in any way, not after everyone else was gone. But Harry, encouraging me, us, it felt like a sign of some sorts. It felt like James was back by my side, bored of listening to me go on and on about you, desperate for me to ask you out. This feels right now, finally, I feel ready to tell you that I love you, y/n, and I’ve been in love with you for over a decade.”

He stood there, his chest rising up and down rapidly with his breathing, his face wearing a wild expression as she tried to process his words. Before she had fully grasped them, before she had really taken them in, before she could appreciate the beauty of those three words, she had walked over to him and pulled him down by the front of his robes to meet his lips, so much softer than she had dreamed.

She pulled away, not wanting to open her eyes in case this had all been a dream, but the soft touches of his lips to her cheek, her nose, her forehead told her that it was all real, that he was finally hers. Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his green orbs, sparkling brighter than she had ever seen them. “I love you, Remus. I always have, and I always will.”

#harry potter #harry potter fic #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #lupin x reader #remus lupin fluff #remus fluff #lupin fluff #remus x reader fluff #remus lupin x reader fluff #moony #moony x reader #marauders #marauders era

271 notes · View notes

collecting-stories · 5 years ago

Text

Magic | Finn Shelby

You might have me believing I don’t always have to be alone. - Hey Stephen, Taylor Swift.

The door to the caravan swung shut and you pressed your hand over your mouth trying not to laugh. Giddy excitement blossomed in your stomach; your other hand entwined with Finn’s as you led him into the caravan.

“How much time do you suppose we have?” He asked, catching you around the waist and landing on the soft bed with you.

“Well since you let the door go, I’d guess less than ten minutes, Johnny’s got ears like a hawk.” You giggled, the noise near deafening when Finn leaned in and began placing kisses along your neck.

“I did no such thing, you’re the one who pulled me forward.” He replied, teasing you. His fingers danced across your sides as he kissed your cheeks and then your lips. Sooner than expected a pounding resonated on the wooden caravan door. You dropped your head down to the bed and groaned as Finn pulled himself off of you.

The door swung open and Johnny Dogs came through, his cap in his hands as he looked between the two of you. Finn was standing up, fixing his waistcoat while you sat up on the bed, shifting your dress so that it wasn’t twisted at the shoulders. Johnny’s eyes narrowed and the cap went back on his head as he frowned. “The two of you are gonna get your ears clobbered off. Now, Tommy’s here for you Finn, git.” He waved toward the door for Finn to walk passed him.

The youngest Shelby came out of the caravan, walking leisurely down the short steps and picking his cap off the ground where it had fallen as you dragged him toward the promise of privacy. Johnny came out after him and you behind Johnny, looking bashful now that you were aware of just how many people were around. Tommy was at the car with Arthur and John, all three with their eyes toward you and your boyfriend. It was a relatively new term for you.

It was just last week that you had been heading back to camp when you caught sight of Finn standing in the bakery on watery lane. You recognized him from the back, boyish and tall in stance, that ginger hair, so unlike his brothers, was peeking out from beneath his cap. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at the sight of him and you thought about just standing there, just window shopping a Shelby until the possibility of him catching sight of you was too much to risk. But you were itching to know what it’d be like to go out with him. Maybe you would just say hello. Your families crossed paths more often than not but you doubted he even knew who you were from anyone else in your clan.

Still you braved the bakery, enveloping yourself in the warm scent of yeast as you stepped into the small shop. The bell above the door signaled your arrival and Finn, who had been gazing at the different loaves with little interest turned at the noise. He’d been sent here on an errand by Polly but he cared little about which loaf of bread was the best and truly wanted to be doing something important. Something worthy of wearing the peaked cap he kept on.

“Hello,” You were surprised with how quickly you managed to find your voice when his eyes were on you. Carefully, you slipped passed him to the section of shelving nearest the wall. You could feel his eyes follow you to your spot and grew warm under his gaze.

“Afternoon.” Finn finally replied, squaring his shoulders and doing his best impression of the Shelby smirk. His hands found the lapels of his suit-coat and he tugged a little as if he was straightening out the impeccable uniform of the Peaky Blinders.

You smiled, albeit a little shy, before turning back to the bread. You were clutching your basket in your arm and trying to quell the bubbling nerves that were dancing in your stomach at the close proximity of your crush. You had been to the Garrison with your friends just the week prior and had seen Finn there. Not nearly the first time you had laid eyes on the youngest Shelby but still you couldn’t keep yours off of him that night. He looked so lovely in the gray suit he was sporting, laughing at the bar with Isaiah and Michael. Your friends had teased you when they realized they were watching the Shelby but you brushed off their eager chanting that you ‘must speak to him’. There was no way, you could hardly speak to a normal guy your age. God, a Shelby? Never.

“What do you think?” Finn continued, holding up two similar loaves of bread for your inspection.

“I would go for that one personally. A bit softer, I would say.” You replied, reaching for the loaf of bread you had chosen for him and giving it a gentle squeeze, as if selling your idea to him.

“Good choice.” Finn smiled, the smirk replaced with the sweetest glow of happiness that you’d ever seen. Better than the confident smirk and better than the forced laughter of trying to impress his friends. “I’d be willing to return the favor, should you need assistance.”

“Bread is a tricky subject.” You couldn’t keep your own smile off your face.

Finn stepped closer to you, his tall, thin frame cornering your somewhat shorter one as he reached around you to pull a loaf of bread from an upper shelf. It was silly you thought, to be flirting over something like bread, if flirting was what you were doing. He held the loaf out for you and you took it from him. “This one looks worthy.”

“If you’re sure.” You grinned, “then this one is it.”

Once Finn had paid for his bread, and yours as well, ignoring the protests you threw his way and insisted that he purchase both, he asked if there was anywhere he could walk you. “The streets can get a bit worrisome this time of the day.” He informed you, holding the door open and letting you pass beneath his arm.

“Midafternoon?” You asked, looking back to him. You were trying not to embarrass yourself in front of him, watching every step you took, afraid that you would trip and fall and Finn would think you were a klutz. You weren’t but the concern that he might think you were anything less than worthy of his time was terrifying. Desperately, all you wanted was his attention.

Finn was only twice as nervous, the skin beneath his suit feeling itchy and warm as he tried to keep his breathing calm and his voice steady. He was a Shelby after all, he had a reputation to uphold and part of that reputation, as proven by John and Tommy (and even Arthur on certain days) was a certain level of calm collectedness that made women swoon. He couldn’t throw all that expectation away just because looking at you made his pulse quicken and his hands clam up and his mouth go dry. What would you think if he so openly pursued you, if he said everything he wanted to say right off the bat? No, he had to play it cool.

“You never know, it’s best to be safe.”

“Well then I should appreciate the escort.” You replied. When he held his arm out, bent at the elbow, for you to take you did. Your fingers settled over the soft fabric of his suit, tucking into the inside of his elbow and smiling up at him. Pretty and pleasant, you tried to remind yourself.

Sure, John Shelby had been taken by a gypsy but that was a business set-up and John Shelby needed a mother for his children and Esme had a certain fire in her that seemed to draw everyone in, moths to her eternal flame. You were not Esme, you lacked that spirit that made her such a treasure. You were only average, nothing special about you to set you apart from other gypsies. Even other gypsies couldn’t not find anything interesting enough in you to take a second glance. What would Finn think to find out that you were not as sweet and lovely as the other girls in Small Heath. Not a proper English lady like Michael’s girl, you were more for the country. A breed of human meant to never settle, to never stay too long in the same place. Though you had returned to Small Heath plenty of times you had also been other places, rolling green moors that took away your breath and beautiful seas that called to you to swim in them. A true gypsy though you would willingly lay down your life in the caravan for a chance with Finn Shelby. Was that silly to say so early on? All he’d done was smile at you but you felt like the whole world was at the tips of your fingers.

“I’ve seen you around before,” Finn began to say but never finished. Someone called his name and he stopped walking you toward whatever destination you might eventually stop at to turn in the direction of the booming voice.

Against the noise of a busy street in Small Heath in the afternoon you could hear it. “Finn Shelby!”

There on the front step of a house was a woman you had seen plenty of times but never up close. Polly Gray stood at the door of the betting shop, hands on her hips in the most imposing manner she could have mustered as she shouted across the street for her nephew. The red blotchy warmth that was covering Finn’s body spread up to his ears, highlighting the freckles that he shared with his eldest brother. He was almost bashful as he looked at you.

“I’ve to go, can’t keep Aunt Pol waiting.” They said Tommy was in charge of the business but it was clear that Polly was in charge of everything else.

You nodded, “of course,” your hand fell from his elbow. He looked somewhat regretful like maybe he would have stayed if it had been anyone else calling his name.

“Could we see each other again? I’ll be at the Garrison tonight.” He said, looking back to Polly. Waiting for the next shout of his name to signify that there was no time left to stall. She waited too, as if to see what would come first.

“Alright.” You agreed before you could really think things through all the way. Could you be at the Garrison tonight?

Finn smiled, eyes alight as he leaned down and placed a kiss against your warm cheek. You bit your lip as he pulled away, looking both happy and mischievous. “I’ll see you tonight.” And then he was hurrying across the street with the loaf of bread tucked beneath his arm.

You kept your promise to go to the Garrison that night after bringing the loaf of bread home and rather furiously trying to find a dress that would like nice out of your limited chest of clothes. A borrowed one from a girl in another caravan who was slightly older and already wed ended up being the one you wore. You thought about asking along a friend or two, not wanting to seem like the desperate, crush-stricken girl who arrives at the Garrison alone in hopes that she’ll catch a Shelby’s eye. But in the end, you wanted whatever time was allotted you and Finn for yourself, not to be shared with others.

When you arrived at the pub it was already crowded though you couldn’t think of a time that it wasn’t. Some hung near the doors as if wanting to leave but ultimately being unable to pull themselves away from the goings on of the congregation gathered. Others occupied tables and barstools, laughing boisterously and chatting at volumes louder than necessary. You ducked between patrons, trying your best to appear confident in your pursuit of the bar. You would need multiple drinks at this point in the evening.

Finn was trying to get out of the house just as you were ordering a gin from the barkeep. He stood in the narrow hallway, hand on the doorknob, listening to Polly tell him that a family meeting was far more important than some girl at a pub.

“I’ve got to go Poll. Not like it matters, they don’t give a shit whether I’m there or not.” Finn argued, his knuckles turning white as his grip tightened. He wanted to scream. Just let me leave this god forsaken house. “I’ll ask Michael for all the important bits.”

“Finn Shelby, Tommy gave strict instruction-” She insisted.

Tell him to shove his instruction up his ass. “I’ll be back later.” Why should he sit through an evening of listening to Arthur belittle him in front of the family?

Cap in hand, he made a record sprint to the Garrison, slipping into the pub and spotting you at the bar. You were sipping on a gin and your eyes shifted nervously over the patrons as you scanned the room for his arrival. When you caught sight of his tall form by the door your eyes lit up with a smile and he nearly collapsed from the feeling in his chest. Wouldn’t it be nice to always see such a smile? Finn made his way to the bar, stepping between your barstool and the one beside it as he angled his body toward you.

“Sorry I’m late, a bit of family business needed clearing up.” There was that devilish smirk again as if he was so vital to family business that he would even been noticed in the room. You were none the wiser though and only nodded at his excuse for being held up. He wouldn’t admit to being a petulant child throwing a tantrum in the front hall at the thought of not being allowed out of the house.

“That’s alright, I would’ve understood.” You reply, doing your best version of a reassuring glance his way as you sipped on your gin. The truth being that you would never have understood and would likely have gone home gutted, too embarrassed at being stood up by a Shelby that you would never show your face in Small Heath ever again.

Finn tapped the wooden counter as the barkeep passed by and requested a glass of whiskey. “Nonsense.” His free hand went to the backrest of your chair and when you leaned back just slightly you could feel his warm skin against you, even through the dress. He looked over his shoulder, surveying the parties in the Garrison before settling on the door of the private room. “Want to go somewhere quieter?” He asked.

“You’ve only just ordered your drink.” You replied, not having noticed his appraisal of the room.

“We’re not leaving the Garrison, here, I’ll show you,” and his hand slipped off the stool and onto the small of your back, pressing you gently to stand. Even when you did he only removed his hand for a fraction of a second as you stepped out from the bar with him, your gin in his other hand. He walked with you, steering you toward the private room and giving the same devilish smirk as earlier when he opened the door and found it empty. “Go ahead.”

“Are we allowed in here?” You questioned though you went in anyway.

“Course, my brother owns the place.” Finn replied though truth be told they had been allowed in this room since before Arthur had bought the Garrison. This room was always set aside for Shelby business.

The window to the bar opened and the barkeep left Finn’s whiskey on the ledge which you retrieved for him, bringing it over with you to the table and taking a small sip. He liked the way you held the glass from the top, almost unsure, and sipped at the liquor. Your face scrunched up and Finn smiled as he switched drinks with you, sitting down beside you on the bench and stretching his arm across the back the same way Arthur always did. Gave him an air of authority, so Linda said.

“Not quite for me, think I’ll stay with the gin.” You grimaced, taking your glass back. You smoothed your dress over your knees, pressed close together as you tried to calm the beating of your heart. Finn was right beside you, at any moment his arm could slip down, land on your shoulder and draw you closer. A friend of a friend had a boy do that at the picture-house and she said he kissed her when she turned his way. You should certainly like to kiss Finn, if it were to come down to it, but you weren’t sure he was interested in that just yet. Perhaps he was only being casual. Surely men sat like that always?

Finn smiled and tipped the glass to his lips as he drank down the contents. It burned his throat on the way down but he’d done this show of bravado enough times in front of Michael and Isaiah that he hardly flinched. At the same time that he set his glass on the table his arm slipped down over your shoulders and you scooted just a centimeter closer, feeling the way his knee pressed against yours when he spread his legs.

“Do you live in Small Heath? I feel bad asking I just haven’t seen you around much.” Finn leaned just so, turning almost into you as he asked. If it wasn’t for the warmth of his body against yours the question might have embarrassed you. Had he really never noticed?

“I live just out of town.” Was all you would give up for now. Gypsy girls were good enough for business deals with Shelbys who had too many children but that was not Finn. The youngest Shelby, heir to the name and the title and the business. Too old for his age but too young to be taken seriously by his brothers. “Did the bread work out for you? I hope you didn’t get in too much trouble.”

“None.” he smiled, the light hearted smile of a boy with a million secrets as he leaned close to you, “besides, it would have been worth getting my ears boxed just meeting you."

The warmth in your face spread down to your chest at his words. As smooth with ladies as his brothers but you didn’t let that stop you from falling prey to his flattery. You smiled behind your glass of gin, letting it rest on your lower lip for a mere second before taking a sip. Finn’s eyes travelled to your lips and he licked his own as the alcohol passed between yours.

Polly had impeccable timing which was the sole reason she had opened the door to the betting shop at the exact same time as you and Finn approached on the other side of the street. He may not have recognized you but she did. You had been just a girl at Esme and John’s wedding, playing near the fire with the others, dirt on your special occasion dress. She was almost surprised to see you grown. You assimilated better than the rest of your kin, if she didn’t know you she never would’ve guessed that you were a gypsy. But she did know you, knew all the trouble Esme had caused, all the trouble being half-gypsy caused Tommy and she was damned if she would have her youngest chasing your skirt. So she bellowed for him, looking as intimidating as possible and hoping that she could scare you away.

Go home, she wanted to yell, keep your troubles from my family.

“Let me walk you home?” Finn asked, arm still draped around your shoulders as he led you out of the pub. He was somehow closer walking beside than he had been sitting in the booth with you though you couldn’t think of any reason to complain about the proximity.

“It’s rather far.” You replied quickly, the verbal equivalent of pulling away. You couldn’t imagine him walking you to a field of caravans down by the river bank. The combination of embarrassment and gin fuddled your mind and you nearly lost your footing on a stone but Finn’s arm dropped to your waist and his hand tightened against your hip, keeping you upright and close.

“Alright there?” He asked, concern evident in his tone though it was too dark to see his features.

You must have polished off an entire bottle of gin while he worked his way through whiskeys. It was a feat in itself that the two of you were managing to walk upright and converse at the same time. “Fine.”

“So, let me walk you to my house then?” He asked, cheeky grin nestling at your neck as you felt him lay a kiss there that gave you goosebumps the length of your body. “It’s close.”

“I don’t want to disturb your family.” You replied, voicing your fear. It was the only one you could think of. Despite the alcohol you felt that you were sane enough of mind to make un-regrettable decisions and you remembered another older girl from camp once telling you that when the time for things was right you would know. At the time the ‘things’ she spoke of felt ominous and you didn’t understand but time had passed enough that you were acutely aware of the ‘things’ and knew that Finn was a lovely choice for a ready evening. Though the panic of overthinking settled too, asking if he was asking because he wanted you and liked you or if you were pretty and just another girl. You’d heard stories of the Shelby boys and their conquests. Even John was not free from tales.

“It’s only Polly and she’ll never wake up, I swear.” Finn crossed his heart backwards and just a little crooked, laughing as he did. He leaned too far and you stumbled trying to keep him steady but he managed to right himself.

His arm unwound from your waist so that he could grasp your hand and lead you across the street to his house on Watery Lane. He kept looking back to you, smiling with such a boyish charm that it made your heart flutter. He placed the sweetest of kisses on your lips as you stood at the bottom of the stairs together and you couldn’t find it in your heart to categorize the sensation as eager. It was only loving.

You followed him up the stairs and down the hall to a plain, greenish door that he pushed open to reveal the small room he slept in. The inside was roughly the size of your family’s whole caravan but he looked like he thought it was modest. Outside of Small Heath meant the country and the country meant sprawling estates like the one that Tommy owned. And estates meant large, grandiose rooms that Finn could only dream of spending more than a night in. You liked the room though and the bedspread that looked as if someone had sewn each sqaure of fabric together by hand.

You took a cautious seat on the edge of the small bed, pressed up against the wall beside the single window in the room. Your hands smooth over the bedspread as you sit there, looking at the lap of your dress as you wait for whatever might come next. Would he kiss you? Were you supposed to kiss him? The flush of his cheeks disappeared into the red stubble on the nape of his neck and disguised the freckles on your face.

He moved across the room with less confidence than he had displayed in the Garrison. You weren’t sure if it was because he was no longer in public, acutely aware of the people watching his every move or if it was the alcohol in his system making him appear so nervous but either way there was something terribly endearing about it.

“So,” you shifted toward him, placing a hand over his on the bedspread.

“We could...” Finn trailed off, leaning toward you. The hand that wasn’t now holding yours settled on your waist as his eyes closed and his lips pressed against yours. Chapped but still moist, either from the whiskey or his nervous constant licking of them. You kissed back, unsure what to do with your hands. You continued to hold his but your other rested awkwardly on your lap as Finn attempted to deepen the kiss. His tongue ran across your bottom lip and you gasped at the sensation. When his tongue went into your mouth you yelped and bit down just enough to make him bang his forehead against yours in surprise.

You scooted away from him, face warm with embarrassment and hands covering your eyes. “I’m so sorry!” You mumbled behind your hands, peeking up at him.

Finn had his tongue out and was trying to look cross-eyed at the damage you’d done to him. When you caught sight of him you couldn’t help the girlish giggle that passed your lips. You kneeled up on the bed and leaned toward him, “let me see?”

“I’ve had worse.” He assured though his tongue hurt and he definitely couldn’t think of the worse that he’d had right now.

“Can I do anything?” You offered, “I feel terrible.”

“Nah, it’s alright. I’m going to get the whiskey from the kitchen though, should help right?”

“I have no idea.” You laughed. Then hesitantly, “should I go?”

“What? No! Of course not!” He insisted, placing his hands on your shoulders and guiding you to sit on the edge of the bed again. He kissed your forehead and then smiled, “I’ll be right back, more whiskey? We can chat some.”

You woke in the morning still in your dress, the fabric twisted around your middle and legs from turning in your sleep. Your face rested against Finn’s side and his arm was above your head. Careful not to wake him but closed in on the bed you sat up, getting to your knees and cautiously climbing over him. Finn’s snoring stopped for the briefest moment and you paused, one foot still on the bed, waiting for him to open his eyes. Instead he just turned over in his sleep. With both feet off the ground you untwisted your dress, fixing it and your slip around yourself so that it didn’t appear you’d spent the entire night sleeping in the garment.

Before you could get to the door it was flung open, startling you and causing Finn to sit up suddenly in bed, hands scrambling for the gun that was typically under his pillow. Tommy stood in the doorway, surveying the both of you skeptically. “Emergency family meeting. Lose the whore.”

“She’s not a whore Tommy!” Finn shouted after his brother as the door closed. He slumped back over the bed, head resting against his forearms. “I apologize for him.”

“It’s alright. I understand, it must look...” You trailed off, waving a hand over the room as if to say he must’ve thought I had sex with you.

“It’s not that. He’s daft sometimes, even Polly says so.” Finn replied, climbing off the bed and grabbing his vest top off the floor. He pulled his shirt out and undid his pants in order to tuck the shirt back in. Not sure what to do you stood there watching him, your eyes followed the skilled movement of his hands as he folded the shirt into his pants. Once secured he did up his trousers once more and you watched the nimble way his fingers buttoned each button on his vest. Looking up Finn caught your line of sight, smiling. “If you’ll wait I’d love to take you home?”

“Alright.” You couldn’t help agreeing, letting him kiss you one last time before he was disappearing out the bedroom door. You sat down on the quilted bedspread again and listened to his footsteps down the stairs.

It felt odd sitting in someone else’s room by yourself but you didn’t want to chance leaving before Finn returned. Both because he looked hopeful about walking you home and because you were afraid you’d accidentally walk in on them discussing business. There wasn’t too much that you knew about the Blinders but you were sure overhearing important business information could definitely get you in loads of trouble.

While they were downstairs your curiosity got the best of you and you stood, walking over to the trunk in the corner and opening it. A few slacks and shirts, like the ones he’d changed into, a gun, and another cap. You’d seen plenty of guns in your life, they were a common commodity amongst the caravans but you’d never actually held one before. This one looked a bit older than those you were used to and not quite as used as the one you’d seen on Finn’s night table. He had nothing scholarly in his room and little in the way of entertainment. You had heard from Johnny Dogs that all the Shelby’s were pretty smart, even the oldest Arthur though you didn’t know him to know why not being smart mattered. You closed the trunk and changed directions, deciding to make the bed while you waited.

Nothing but talking had come of the night before, just as Finn promised. It wasn’t that you were opposed just that you didn’t want him thinking you were easy or thinking that maybe this was something casual when you wanted desperately for it to be more than that. You’d resisted the urge to throw caution to the wind and sleep with him but he’d seemed perfectly content with polishing off the last of Polly’s whiskey and lounging in bed with you until you’d both fallen asleep.

“Don’t know why they make such a fucking deal outta me going to those bloody meetings. Not like they care worth a penny.” Finn grumbled as he opened and shut the door. You had just finished tucking in the left end corner of the bed and jumped a little at his sudden arrival.

“Sorry?” You asked.

“Oh!” Finn looked as if he’d forgotten you were there and honestly, for just a moment, he had. He was so bothered with his brothers, between Tommy’s dumb comment that morning and then him being looked over and teased throughout the meeting, he was livid and completely forgot that he had company sitting up in his room. “Sorry I-did you make the bed?”

“Well I wasn’t sure what to do and it was mussed so I thought...why not?” You teetered on uncertainty, rocking back on the heels of your stocking feet.

Finn smiled, catching your elbow and pulling you closer to lay a kiss on your forehead and then your lips. “Thank you, that’s awfully kind.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Let me walk you home.” He announced, pulling himself away and going to get his shoes from beside the door. He handed yours over as well and you took a seat on the freshly made bed as you begun to do up your boots. Finn sat on the floor, back against the wall and looking up at you every few seconds with a smile. He looked happy, genuinely so, and the smile was seemingly contagious because you couldn’t help yourself from smiling back at him.

Neither Polly nor Tommy said a word as you followed Finn down the stairs into the narrow hallway, though both stood at the kitchen entrance watching you. Finn kept his hand in yours as he led you out of the house and back onto Watery Lane. It was morning now, much brighter now than it had been when he was walking you home the night before. You squeezed his hand and held his arm with your other, too confident being on his arm to be bothered that you were wearing your dress from the previous night. Word, of course, would get around Small Heath until everyone was talking about Another Shelby brother getting mixed up with the gypsies. For right now though it was new and the news had not yet made it’s cycle as you walked with him.

“Come here,” Finn beckoned, turning his head to smile at you as he led you around a corner abruptly.

“I thought we were walking me home?” You asked, frowning just the slightest as he released your hand from his. He came up behind you and covered your eyes, “Finn what’re you doing?”

“I’ve got a surprise.” He nudged you to walk further into the alley and you complied, careful in your steps until finally he held you firm, “here we are.”

With your eyes uncovered you saw that you were standing before a car. You had seen automobiles before though you’d never had the chance to ride in one. Even when Johnny Dogs had one on loan from the brothers he never let anyone ride in it except those he was doing business with. You knew of other gypsies that had cars but your small clan had remained carless. You looked back to Finn who was smiling happily down at you, clearly proud of himself.

“I swiped the keys during the business meeting, figured I’d give you a proper drive home.” He announced, holding up the key so that you could see it.

“I’m not that far outside of Small Heath really, you didn’t need to go to all this trouble.”

“Well,” Finn shrugged and moved forward to open the passenger door to you, “I’ll warn you I’m always mixing up directions, may take us a bit longer to get home.” The cheeky grin was back and you giggled like a school girl at the implication.

“That’d be alright.” You let him help you into the car, a kiss on his cheek before he closed the door.

The wind raced through your hair as Finn sped down the country road. Every bump sent you jostling in your seat and you couldn’t help laughing. Somehow this felt like the most fun you’d had in ages. He was looking between the road and you, each time his smile growing as he met your eyes. You reached across the bench and grabbed his forearm as he hit a particularly awful bump that sent you off your seat. You let out a shriek and Finn brought the car to a halt, falling into laughter as he leaned his head against the steering wheel. Your head fell back against the set as you tried to collect your breathing.

“I think I’ve been jostled enough for one afternoon.” You laughed.

“I’m not the one who lives so far outside of town.” He teased, the ever present smile on his face as he leaned over and kissed your cheek.

“We’re well passed where I live by now.” You replied, mock indignation lighting your voice. “You’re just wasting time.”

“Naturally, it’ll break my heart to see you go.”

“You’re such a tease Finn,” you shifted in your seat so that you could see him better.

“I’m not teasing.” He announced, “And I’d like to see you again. Tomorrow? Or tonight possibly?”

“I was thinking of going to the Garrison.”

“Perfect.”

taglist: @thinkingsofamadwoman @mixedwiththemoon @titty-teetee @queenmissfit @marvelismylifffe @iluvmesomemarvelndc @absentmindeduniverse @his-paradox @medievalfangirl @danceyreagan @listensweettea @5secondsofjoal @breathlesssouls @kingsmanstories @woeisbutwoe @another-life-addict @my-life-as-a-fangirl @johhnshelby @mysticthinkinglol @44garbage @darkestbeforethedawn16 @alexacj @dracodormiensnunquamtitillandush @mainokutan @loserrlauraa

#finn shelby x reader #finn shelby imagine #finn Shelby fanfiction #Finn Shelby fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #collecting stories imagine #cs discography series

342 notes · View notes

gotatext · 5 years ago

Text

hello, its nora (she/her, gmt) n this is the ethereal but spoiled alma olive putnam (she goes by all 3 names cos she’s pretentious as fuck). raised in a farmhouse in vermont, big horse girl energy. very hungry for everything life has to offer. wakes up and smells the success in her blood. luvs the smell of libraries and listening to french music from a tinny record player in knee socks. here is pinterest. bio is below the cut, like this post to be bombarded with plotting messages but i might forget tho so pls message me x

application template.

『ELLE FANNING ❙ CIS-FEMALE』 ⟿ looks like ALMA OLIVE PUTNAM is here for HER JUNIOR year as a CLASSICS student. SHE is 21 years old & known to be RESILIENT, MAGNETIC, CALLOUS & PROUD. They’re living in PERKINS, so if you’re there, watch out for them. ⬳ NORA. 24. GMT. SHE/HER.

aesthetics.

a red beret nestled on top of bright platimum locks, neck scarves tied around your throat the way they do it in french new wave films, running barefoot through the woods in feckless hedonism, china dolls with porcelain faces lined against the walls of your room, the mona lisa smile, knee-socks tugged over the hockey grazes on your knees, a forged botticelli drying on your easel, ophelia floating in the middle of a lake.

proceed w caution, tw for death, drugs, alcohol, violence

the short form.

— studying classics cos she thinks it makes her sound smart, but actually hates fuckin latin and just loves learning about feckless hedonism and the festivals of bacchus and writing about how all women in myth are literally forgotten. was expelled from princeton in her first year so her parents basically paid her way into radcliffe but she made an impression.... like... super fast and in her sophomore year she was upgraded to perkins accomodation n a paid scholarship bcos i think the governors kind of expect to see her in the supreme court one day or.

— born in vermont in a big old farmhouse. her great-great-grandfather moved to america as an immigrant and worked on a plantation, made his way up cos he could speak a lot of languages and therefore win more people over. for the last two generations, putnam men have owned the farm and do little of the dirty work. big in the meat industry.

— both her parents had large personalities, so alma’s never really been shy around adults, even as a kid she’d speak to them in a forthright, confident manner, and because she was always surrounded by adults, she’s always seemed a bit wise beyond her years.

— very much a consolidation of every character in the secret history. has a morbid longing for the picturesque at all costs. obsessed with w.h. auden and the beat poets. — ”aestheticism is the only thing worth pursuing and even that is pointless” — is majoring in classical civilisation. can read ancient greek and latin. also speaks french.

— studies hard and plays hard. she gets top marks but it’s because academia is literally her life, she loves the smell of libraries, the ancient smoke of learning, of feeling like old wine in a new bottle reincarnated from the bones of some old, dead witchy woman who invented a cure for cowpox or somethin.

— isn’t a foward-planner, however. alma prefers to leave her options open, play the field, live in a spontaneous manner so her study style is mostly cramming a few days before a test, or staying up all night writing an essay on a massive adrenaline boost powered by red bull or probably adderall, scribbling (or typing) furiously into the night.

— pretentious motherfucker. loves poetry, especially the romantics, loves morbid ones too, edgar allen poe, sylvia plath, allen ginsberg, she just loves them all. can’t get enough. her favourite films are like…. wanky artfilm independent european cinema. especially french new wave. “what do you think of goddard’s work??” while snorting a line off someone’s sink at 5am on a school night, but you can bet she’ll make it to that 9am class. — very intelligent and beautiful and knows both of those facts. plays devil’s advocate. humanitarian, vegan. — judgemental but takes great care not to appear so. petty and vindictive

— obsessively devours mystery and thriller novels. she herself is a gillian flynn book waiting to happen. — tries to be an enigma. wants to be mysterious and unreadable because that’s what books have taught her makes women desirable and interesting and cool. very amy dunne in the way she expertly reinvents herself to suit her audience, when she wants to impress

— act like the flower but be the serpent under it. is a user. manipulative. leads people on. will throw another student under the bus to demonstrate her own intelligence and integrity — heavily involved in the theatre society. loves attention. — has an addictive personality. seems unable to do anything in a small dose, she has to let it utterly consume her. with sports, she’s fiercely competitive, runs track, played lacrosse at school, now is a cheerleader probably. with alcohol, it’s never a shot, it’s a whole bottle – wine or whiskey – she’ll be table dancing before the night’s up and making out with someone she’ll regret in the morning.

— her clothing style is like…. vintage thrift store but make it preppy. berets and cute hats, neck scarves, large fluffy cardigans or like those leathery jackets with big suede fringes on them, mini skirts (very 70s), and knee-high socks or boots. quite often she’ll be in sports kit, maybe a cute tennis skirt, n when she’s feeling casual she’ll wear like, a talking heads tshirt with a pair of mom jeans and converse, but otherwise, the library is her catwalk. — relates to ophelia from hamlet and sibyl vane in dorian gray. weirdly obsessed with women who commit suicide. loves jackson pollock paintings and abstract art. – likes old things. old books, old music, old houses, it reminds her of happier times like when she wasn’t alive. buys all her music on vinyl and has a gramophone because “the sound quality is better” kfdsjj.

plots.

here are some generic wanted plots but by all means message me so we can flesh them out more if any strike ur interest:

study buddies !! someone who is equally unprepared and so spends all night in the library with alma before a big deadline, maybe they even met in the library

if they’re from new england or vermont, then cousins . second cousins / extended family / family friends – probably spat volavons on your character once as children, omg childhood friends !

people who live in perkins n feel like they r constantly competing with one another to keep their place as one of the #elite only know each other from brief interactions in the lift or the canteen

honestly someone who is fully in love with her or crushing on her that she can just break would be sweet :/ or on the other hand someone she unexpectedly gets feelings for and actually wants to guage her own eyeballs out bc of it

frinds !! unlikely friends !! toxic friends !! former best friends separated by sporting or academic rivalries !

hockey / cheer friends who are on other teams but who she absolutely loves playin against!!!

fellow academics who like meeting up to discuss latin and greek ! gimme a secret society bonding by their love of ancient learning

i reckon she’s in a lot of societies, definitely the film club, maybe works as a projectionist at the uni cinema if they have one so give me ppl affiliated with that, give me fellow wanky pretentious art-lovers and poets and historians who will go to museums and galleries with her and listen to the velvet underground on vinyl

people she gets mortally fucked off her tits with at parties

people who think she is throwing her academic potential away by caving to hedonistic impulse

A SECRET SOCIETY !!! honestly i would die for a slug club esque thing in which the children of notable families are invited to dinners OR alma’s also an art forger, so maybe like a club of students set up to basically forge paintings and documents from the university special collections

people she has drunkenly made out with, hooked up with, or regularly sleeps with casually, maybe even a friend w benefits she is repressing feelings for, i love angst,

people she used to date or unrequitedly likes, but to them it’s just a physical thing, give me all the thirsty angst plots, and maybe some softness too, i need some religion in this girls life, she is a roman catholic after all

full biography.

alma olive putnam.

intro.

the girl is a knife. razor-sharp, double-edged, the bright shine of a two-faced, lovely thing. silver like the secrets you magpie thief from other heads. you’re a scavenger of knowledge, of tidbits, of gossip to lock away for later use and late-night re-inspection. a mind is like a clock if you get to learn the pieces. bit by bit, you dismantle the inner workings of the brains that tick around you – how easy it is to change it’s path, how words and their meanings can make a person laugh or cry in an instant. to have the power to control that is to be a god. it’s the power trip you crave wielding pom-poms in your hands; a possessive need for control that a younger you, small and weak, never had as a child. small lips, smaller smile, a doll clutched in your too-hungry fingers, hard enough to shatter the bones of a real infant. you cut your hair with your mother’s kitchen scissors before the autumn falls, rendering you out of season, unfit for the cold weather that beats against the nape of your neck, where a stick-and-poke marks the star you were born under ; the bull. “mama, when will i be a queen?” as soon as they find a crown small enough not to slip from your head.

biography.

if you get hungry enough, they say, you start eating your own heart. hands red, stained by pomegranate seeds, the empty pulp of its shell splattered on your thighs you find yourself wondering – what would it be like to want? in the beginning, you never knew hunger. twins, born under the same star, you first, him second – a nuclear family. never a sister to compete with, you were always the cherry pie of your parents’ hearts. white-haired, blue-eyed, beautiful baby of mine. the townhouse in vermont and the summer house in lyon, you wanted for nought, showered with attention, saddled with gifts - hardly a wonder you came to rely on such affection as a confirmation of your own worth.

at eight years old you first met death, blood on a gingham-print dress, a smear of it over your cheekbone and the pulp of a mangled animal at your feet murdered by the hands of a stable boy. “alma, my precious baby, you get away from that filth,” your mama would cry from the upstairs balcony – cigar in one hand and a bloody mary in the other – though whether the filth she referred to was the dead pig or the boy with a kernel of corn in his mouth, you never did find out.

your family earned their keeps in farming, great-grandfather wolfgang hildegarde a german immigrant, great-grandmother maura lisbon a prairie girl. they fell hopelessly in love between troughs and pig-shit, working for three dollars a day at a farm their descendants would later own, trade deals with the indians, vacations to calcutta, your father todd putnam in the kind of sheepskin coat his father’s father could only dream of owning. he worked hard so that you’d never have to. your mama once asked – you heard it through the window, rounding cartwheels across the picket-fenced lawn – could he not find a respectable career rather than selling shrink-wrapped pork for a dime a dozen? that blood money had no business raising a child. you look far back enough, edie, your father had said in his low, strong voice that could bring a civil war to silence, and i think you’ll find that all money is blood money.

language was never fickle on your tongue, french dinner time talk by the time you were out of your hush puppy shoes, your mama fixing the au pair a smile as she fixed herself another martini. you learned the clarinet at four and how to dance with the grace of a swansong at six, ethereal under a spotlight, an audience captive in the palm of your hand. by eight you knew that you’d always been destined to be loved. loved so hard they would want to taste you, bite into the soft plump of your cheek and eat you alive. that was how magnetic you wanted to feel. but mother hamsters eat their own young when penned in together too long, and soon you became too wild, too restless, another package on your father’s delivery invoice, box-shipped out to english boarding school.

fitting in had never been something you had to concern yourself with. you were always the shiny new toy the other girls wanted to play with, bright like a dropped coin from a magpie’s beak. wherever you went, you seemed to leave a trail of awe, pig-tailed harriet’s adoring you, imitating you, teachers forgiving your class-time chatter for the sake of your wild heart and the restless spirit you possessed. tell us what it’s like in the states, alma. they’d coo, enamoured by your hollywood drawl. does your father own a gun? you hardly knew. barely even knew the colour of his hair, for the scarce amount of times he’d stoop to kiss your cheek, though you’d tell silver-tongued tales if it’d guaranteed you an audience. when you learned how to smile at the right times, and that flattery would get you everywhere, it soon became apparent that charm would pave the yellow brick road to success even when your lack of drive couldn’t.

the road you followed – gum-snapping, roller-blading, friendship bands all up your arm – eventually led you to radcliffe. bright-eyed and gingham skirted, you’d always known you were more. there was a hunger in you to be something extraordinary, a want so adamant to be imagined and desired that it was almost savage. in leather-bound volumes and a circle of stones, you were helen of troy, the girl for whom they’d launch a thousand ships. but there’s so much rage within you, collecting like sawdust in cavernous parts. hockey helped. there was something grounding about the feeling of a stick clasped in your hands. sweat. stiff knuckles. feet pounding the earth. the smash of wood against flesh in the scram of a game, passed off as mere enthusiasm. “slipped, sorry.” hockey is the one thing you had that was yours alone – a feral instinct that motivates you to play; something primitive within you that sparks an energy like no other. on the pitch, you feel alive. you feel like a god.

#screeches from the rooftops like a banshee #radintro

16 notes · View notes

maggotmouth · 5 years ago

Text

hello, its nora again ( she/her, gmt ) n this is the ethereal but spoiled alma olive putnam (she goes by all 3 names cos she’s pretentious as fuck). ive never used anya taylor joy as her fc before but anya has a smile that looks like she knows something u dont and thats completely alma’s vibe so we’re gonna try it out. she was raised in a farmhouse in vermont, big horse girl energy. very hungry for everything life has to offer. wakes up and smells the success in her blood. luvs the smell of libraries and listening to french music from a tinny record player in knee socks. here is pinterest. bio is below the cut, like this post to be bombarded with plotting messages but i might forget or get shy tho so pls message me x

application template.

ANYA TAYLOR - JOY , CIS-FEMALE , SHE/HER → according to the school records , ALMA OLIVE PUTNAM has been attending sacred heart for the past three years . i last saw them hanging around the sacred heart cathedral ; i think they were studying the stations of the cross with a smile like a well - kept secret. at twenty - one years old , alma has been studying classics and get this , i heard that she has made a fortune on the black market by forging renaissance art to sell to collectors — figure it’s true ? everyone around here always associates them with neck scarves tied around your throat the way they do in french new wave films , running barefoot through the woods drunk on red wine and untapped power , a smile like a locked door that speaks only in riddles . in the time since these strange happenings , they have have encountered any unexplained occurrences . ( written by nora , 24 , she/her , gmt )

aesthetics.

proceed w caution, tw for death, drugs, alcohol, violence

the short form. (still long af tbh)

— studying classics cos she thinks it makes her sound smart, but actually hates fuckin latin and just loves learning about feckless hedonism and the festivals of bacchus and writing about how all women in myth are literally forgotten. was expelled from princeton in her first year so her parents basically paid her way into sacred heart and the board really liked her in her interview. i think the governors kind of expect to see her in the supreme court one day or st

— an incredibly talented dancer. she was accepted to juliard to study ballet, but after an injury to her foot she had to refuse her place, something that she’s incredibly bitter about. she went to princeton instead to study classics for a semester, before being expelled.

— alma comes from a family of high-end art dealers. while her parents paid her way into the school, that was mostly due to previous expulsions, not low intelligence. she’s incredibly intelligent but will only put in effort when she deems the cause worthy. she’s frustrating to teach, because she requires evidence, truth, in order to accept something as worthwhile. she plays devil’s advocate, but academically she’s brilliant.

— she can recognise any renaissance artist just by their brush strokes. her aunt and uncle deal antiques and art, and from an internship with them after her expulsion from princeton, she learned how to market and sell art, how to recognise originals in contrast to fakes. from this, alma began to produce counterfeit art and sell it off as the original work to the contacts she had made in her internship. it’s disloyal, but it’s powerful.