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ceilidho · 1 day ago

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'still wakes the deep' au

prompt: You're an environmental scientist conducting research on an off-shore oil rig with only a few days left before you're slated to leave. The eldritch creature they accidentally awaken throws a wrench in the works. Trouble Brewing masterlist

“Shit,” you huff, leaning back in your chair and crossing your arms over your chest, annoyance bleeding into your words as your frustration finally comes to a boil.

“What’s th’ matter?” Roper, another rig worker, asks. He’s taken to sitting with you in the lounge whenever his breaks line up with yours, one of the few men to not treat you with barely concealed disdain. You can't deny that it's nice to have company.

“Nothing—I think I may have accidentally contaminated the samples. None of this looks right.”

By this, you mean the papers spread out on the coffee table in front of you—print-outs of the water sample analyses. You’ve been staring at them for far too long, eyes practically burning after your tenth consecutive read through.

Almost everything in the sample analysis looks off. The alkalinity, the pH, the temperature, the CO2 and H2S levels—even the microbiological parameters are far exceeded. At some point, you must have accidentally contaminated the samples; only in a worse case scenario, such as a massive oil leak, would you expect to see numbers like these, and you would know if that were the case. It would be immediately obvious not only by the distress spreading like a miasma through the rig, but simply by looking at the water crashing against the jacket legs beneath you.

There’s something else too. Something in the samples that you’ve never seen before—almost like a faint iridescence to the water, a shimmer so light that it’s almost not perceptible to your eye.

So it can’t be that. You must’ve done something wrong when collecting your samples from the discharge point. It’s frustrating to know that the work you’ve done so far has been basically for nothing, seeing as how you’ll have to do it all over again in order to get a fresh batch of samples, but you just remind yourself that these things happen. It could always be worse.

A reminder of that appears right before your eyes when a guy on the other side of the lounge opens his trap and says to Roper, “Ye hear about MacTavish?”

Your ears perk up. Roper must notice because he just grins. “Na—what happened?”

The other man whistles through his teeth. “‘Twas a shit storm. Heard about it from O’Connor.”

“Och, spit it out, will ye? Quit keeping us in suspense.”

“A’richt, just dinnae tell him ah tellt ye—‘ah swear he’ll take someone's head off at this rate.”

The men whisper and titter about it all afternoon—how MacTavish got dragged into the rig manager’s office and ripped into over some offshore antics (fightin’—near broke a guy’s jaw for mouthing off tae him, one crew member tells you surreptitiously, again reinforcing the gossiping hen opinion you’d already formed of them). You’re not exactly shocked by the news, but the quiet that comes over the rig in his absence is a bit jarring.

Coming across him in the aftermath of the incident is, however, far more shocking.

You see him first from across the mess scowling into his food, a dark cloud hanging over him. His usual roguish countenance is swapped for something more choleric, foul-tempered. It’s incongruous with the image you have of him in your head, the one that sees him as eternally cheery; cocksure and braggadocious.

Roper warns you in no uncertain terms to give Soap a wide berth if you happen to come across him.

You cock a brow at that. “You think he’d hurt someone?”

“Na, tis nae like that. It wasn’y his fault that someone else wanted tae have a pissing contest. The lad’s just got an ill temper is all. He’ll gallus aff eventually—juist best nae tae git in his way until then.”

No sense in trying to decipher what he means by that. You have a job to do anyway and the issue with your samples weighs far more heavily on your mind than Soap’s bad mood.

Still, you recognize it as a distant cause for concern. Every so often it dawns on you how far you are from civilization—out in the middle of the North sea, surrounded by nothing but waves and men with voracious appetites. You grit your teeth and bear a lot as it is; unsavory comments and blatant stares, the kind of thing that registers as an ever present, unsung threat that you are impelled to ignore lest it be mentioned. Lest it be given a name.

Soap’s bad mood might not be something you have to worry about, but still you acknowledge that you should probably keep your distance for the time being. At least until his pride is mended and he’s back to his old self.

These days, you’re never allowed what you want though.

You’re around the bend of a hallway when you hear him coming, his distinctive thick brogue snapping at another crew member. Though your heart immediately starts pounding against your chest, there’s nothing you can do; the corridor behind you is too long to run back down without being seen and there aren’t any rooms to sneak into and use as cover. All you can do is stand there with your heart in your throat as he gets closer and closer.

The sharp dogleg in the hall keeps him from seeing you until he’s already on you, nearly plowing into you before catching himself at the last minute, a big hand slamming against the wall beside you to stop him mid-step. You flinch despite anticipating him.

“Jesus, bonnie, I didn’y see ye there. Make a bit o’ noise or somethin’,” Soap says, more brusque than he’s ever spoken to you before.

“Sorry,” you mumble, attempting to sidestep him.

“Ach, wait, ‘ah dinnae mean tae snap. Where are ye off tae?” he asks, stepping with you to the right so that you can’t pass around him. He’s quick enough that you walk straight into him, crushing your nose against his chest and wincing when you take a step back and wriggle it out. A hand clamps down on your shoulder to keep you from scurrying off any farther.

“Um…I have some things to do.”

“Things?” he repeats, waiting for you to elaborate.

“I have work. Didn’t mean to get in your way.”

“Ah’m no’ an animal, bonnie; ye dinnae have to run off jus’ because ah’m in a mood.”

“I’m not running off—I really do have work to do, Soap. That’s why I’m here, remember?” You realize that he must like it when you get snippy with him because the second you do, his lips stretch into a grin, blue eyes glinting.

“Want some help?” he asks.

“Um…”

Irritation clouds his expression. “Ah’m no’ gonna flip out if that’s what yer worried about. That shit with Rennick had nothing tae do with my work.”

That shifts the guilt around in you and gives it a bigger hole to wedge itself in. “…Sure. I guess I could use a hand.”

“Now, ye aren't just asking tae make me feel better, are ye? ‘Cause ah’m a big boy; I willnae cry if ye let me down gently.”

“Oh my god, Soap, do you want to help me or not?” you snap.

His grin widens, a new little mischievous furl to it. “Well, ye dinnae have tae beg, bonnie. Ah’d be happy tae help ye out.”

Of course it was nothing but a ploy for him to rile you up and get you to be the one to ask for help.

Back to the discharge point to collect fresh water samples. Soap doesn’t stop talking the whole walk, the onslaught of questions about your personal life and his own life offshore enough to make your ears ring. No chance of peace and quiet—not with him around, anyway.

On your way up a flight of stairs, you peek back at him to find him climbing with his hands on both railings. You’re not sure if it’s to keep you from slipping away or to keep himself stable, but if you were a bettor, you know which you’d pick.

Soap grins toothily up at you. You roll your eyes in response and turn back around, climbing up the last few steps. The ocean’s ever tempestuous winds howl in the distance.

For all your initial reluctance to let him help you, he proves to be a pretty useful assistant, helping you flush the sample point beforehand and then holding your equipment as you carefully fill and cap each sample bottle.

He’s such a help in fact, that part of you feels a bit guilty for the way you treated him earlier. Like a ticking time bomb. Wouldn’t you also be upset after being told off by your boss? You have the luxury of not really reporting to anyone on the rig—so long as you send your boss daily updates on the progress of your work and follow safety and security regulations on the rig, you never worry about being reprimanded. Certainly not yelled at.

You’re also surrounded by strangers for the most part, which, while sometimes alienating, also means that you’re not particularly invested in what anyone has to say about you. These aren’t your coworkers. In a couple weeks’ time, you’ll be flown back to shore and you’ll never see any of them ever again.

The walk back to your room-cum-office is different. Soap follows behind you quietly for a change, your additional samples in hand, and only the sound of his steel-toed boots clanging against the floor remind you that he’s still with you. You didn’t think he had it in him to stay quiet for so long.

He follows in after you when you reach your room, not bothering to wait outside like anyone with common sense would. It would be more aggravating if he weren’t so handsome. It’s hard to look at him and hold on to any real anger though.

“I—uh—I’m sorry you had a rough day,” you finally manage to blurt out.

He must eye you dubiously because you can feel the weight of his gaze. Not like he doesn’t understand what you’re referring to, but more like he doesn’t quite trust your sincerity.

“Ah must’ve been bonny crabby for ye tae apologize for that asshole,” he teases. You can tell through the joke that even now his pride is a little stung that you brought it up at all.

If his temper weren’t so volatile, you might actually be tempted to spend more time with him. You have to shake that thought away as soon as it comes to you though; you won’t be on the rig for much longer anyway.

“What’d you do anyway?” you blurt out, immediately thinking better of your words when Soap’s face darkens, nostrils flaring the slightest bit. “Sorry, that was—don’t answer that.”

“Nah, it’s no’—” he pauses, sucking air in between his teeth. “It’s no’ a secret or anythin’. Got myself mixed up in some bad shit, but it’s over, ah swear. Told Rennick that it wasnae anythin’ tae worry about, but he gave me hell anyway.”

“He seems like a dick,” you say in consolation.

“Aye,” Soap laughs.

He waits until you’ve packed all your samples away before opening his mouth again.

“Ye ken what would really make me feel better, bonnie?”

You glance over at him suspiciously, bracing yourself for something crass. You can feel it brewing—the culmination of days worth of purred words and heady glances, his interest so blatant that ignoring it feels almost pointless. He lays it on thick enough that you’d have to be blind not to have picked up on it.

So, it catches you off guard when instead of making a licentious comment, he just sighs, “Ah could really use a hug.”

That’s—that’s a bit more reasonable than what you had anticipated. Surprising enough for you to lower your hackles and turn to face him.

He holds his arms out in invitation, face expectant. That nearly makes you cringe before you catch yourself. You’ve been caught in this trap before—your tentative kindness leveraged for physical affection; pushing your boundaries at the first sign of weakness, like waging a siege on you—and even though your teeth itch with the urge to snap at him, it just doesn’t feel worth it. Easier just to capitulate and give what he wants. Just this once.

Besides, it’s just a hug.

His arms fold around you the second you step into them, constricting around your waist like two steel bands holding you in place. He hugs tight too, not an inch of space between your bodies, your breasts flush with his chest. Toes practically scraping the ground, lifted up by the strength of his arms.

The blood rushes to your head. Weak kneed. It’s almost a blessing that Soap’s arms are holding you up. Every inch of your body feels electrified, nerves spitting hot fire; even your scalp tingles when he rests his chin on your crown. You don’t like to think about it—how little anyone touches you these days and how starved your body is for it. Even offshore, you haven’t dated in so long that it seems almost incomprehensible now that you’ve ever dated anyone before.

He groans into your hair, lost in his own head. One of his hands curves up and around your back until it cups over your shoulder, anchoring you even tighter to his chest. You can feel the bulge of every muscle, the tensile strength vibrating under his skin, and it’s only then that you realize that he’s shaking.

The other thing you can’t ignore is the weight of his dick pressing into you. Your eyes bulge when you realize you can feel it thicken with blood against your belly. Even through the material of his pants, you can tell that it’s big.

“Christ, bonnie,” Soap whines, pulling you somehow even tighter to him, nearly cutting off your breath. “Yer so fucking soft.”

“Soap—” you squeak. “Okay, I think that’s—I’ve—I’ve got work to do—”

You tense when his free hand drifts down your back and settles right over your ass.

“Soap—” you hiss, then yelp when his hand drops even more and his fingers into a soft, fleshy cheek and he grinds his hips into your belly. You’re not sure if he’s even aware of what he’s doing, his hug devolving into something coarse and almost sexual.

You reach a hand up to grab him by the jaw and push his head away, struggling feebly in his hold until his arms finally give a little and you’re able to wriggle out, scampering back until you’ve put some distance between the two of you.

When you meet Soap’s eyes, you have to fight the urge to flinch. It takes him a second to regain control of himself, slack-jawed and hungry-eyed until he blinks and it starts to melt away. His chest heaves with his ragged breath. He looks every bit like a man that just got kicked out of bed before finishing, dick still hard in his pants.

“Sorry, bonnie. Ah got a little carried away,” he says apologetically, eyes so round that they almost make him look puppyish.

“It’s fine.”

It’s not fine. You’re still shaky and your thighs are suspiciously damp and you’re fairly sure all the blood in your body has rushed to your face because your cheeks feel like they’re on fire, but you also don’t want to acknowledge the obvious. The outline of his dick straining against his pant leg. The dark flush on his cheekbones and his glazed over eyes. The way you have to fight the urge not to stare at the fabric of his jumpsuit tight around his thighs and biceps.

“Ah’ll, uh…ah’ll see ye later then.” He takes a step back, then another, waiting maybe for you to say something. For you to tell him that it’s alright to stay.

You smile tightly instead, ignore the urge to call him back to you. Your smile only drops when he closes the door behind him.

There’s trouble brewing. You can feel it swelling up like a wave, ready to crash into you.

Under you, you can feel the rig shift with the water and in the distance, something howls.

#ceil writing #cod x reader #soap x reader #soap x you #john mactavish x reader #john mactavish x you #soap/reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader

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mminghaos · 2 days ago

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best friend seungcheol whom you have a crush on, but never told him. he doesn't know it either and y'all just bicker all the time as bsf, one day all of it changes when you finally say you found a match on some dating app. he realises it and bam! hot and heavy shit go down.

bitter crush , choi seungcheol x f!reader

SYPNOSIS: your bestfriend doesn’t know you’ve had a crush on him for years, but when you mention matching with someone on a dating app, everything changes.

WARNINGS: smut, fingering, kissing, teasing, mingyu as the failed date lmfao

requests are open, do send some in!!

you’ve been friends with seungcheol since high school, watching each other grow up — first jobs, first kisses, and everything in between, sticking together through the highs and lows. your friendship is built on bickering and teasing each other like it’s second nature. but now, the bickering feels different.

“i matched with someone on that app i told you about,” you say, placing your coffee down on the wooden table of the café you and seungcheol are sitting at.

you’d decided to give a dating app a shot, hoping it would help you take your mind off seungcheol. maybe meeting someone new will help you move on, or at least distract you from the constant thoughts about him. but so far, it’s just more of the same — swiping, chatting, but none of its ever seemed to match the energy you share with him. you might as well move on, since seungcheol has is own hookups and girlfriends, and none of them will ever be you. its frustrating, the way this burning crush for him is always shimmering beneath the surface, gnawing at you. this is going to be the death of you — that’s what you always tell yourself.

“so you’re telling me you’re out here swiping on strangers?” he responds, his voice laced with something you can’t quite place. “what happened to the whole ‘not needing anyone’ thing?”

“it changed.”

“really? that’s weird.” he says, his eyes never leaving you. “thought you were too busy to deal with anyone new.”

you roll your eyes, trying to brush it off. “yeah, well, apparently im not as busy as i thought.”

you’ve never been the type to casually date or get involved with someone just for the sake of it. but lately, things feel different. seungcheol’s always been there — constant, reliable, and annoyingly perfect in his own way — and it’s hard to ignore how your thoughts always circle back to him, no matter how many times you try to push them away. you’ve never said it out loud, never let him in on the truth of how much he’s been occupying your mind, and the idea of dating someone else? it almost feels like a joke. you’re not really here for some random guy who doesn’t know you like he does. but the more you try to distract yourself, the more you realize how little it helps. no matter how many matches you get, no conversation ever seems to compare to the effortless back and forth you share with seungcheol. it’s like you’re chasing something that doesn’t quite exist, and each swipe only makes you feel more frustrated. but you can’t exactly admit that, not to him, not to anyone. so you keep trying, hoping maybe this time will be different, even though you know deep down it won’t be.

“so, who’s this guy?”

you shrug, trying to keep your voice steady. “kim mingyu. he’s nice. we’ve met a few times before, actually — works at that bar down the street.”

seungcheol leans back in his chair, his arms crossed as he watched you. he clears his throat. “just don’t pick some random guy who doesn’t get you, alright?”

“what, are you jealous or something?”

“no.”

the date with mingyu went well. you two got along really great — there was no shortage of conversation, and the chemistry was comfortable. you both enjoyed the meal and found common ground in ways that made the evening feel lighthearted and easy. it was nice, actually, to just relax and enjoy someone’s company without any pressure.

even if the date was good, you and mingyu both agreed that you should just be friends, neither of you feeling the sparks you were hoping for.

you walk into your apartment, slipping off your shoes and placing your keys under the mat. its quiet, the only sound being the soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. you head towards the living room, where seungcheol is sprawled on your couch, sorting through the groceries he offered to pick up for you earlier this week.

“you’re back early,” he says, glancing up with a smirk. “thought you were gonna be out all night with your… date.”

you roll your eyes, not really in the mood to talk about it. “it was fine,” you reply, shrugging as you drop your purse on the counter. “nothing special.”

seungcheol raises an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “really?”

you let out a breath, trying to sound casual. “yeah, well, turns out i’m not as interested as i thought.”

he tilts his head, looking at you like he’s trying to figure you out. “what do you mean?”

you hesitate, leaning against the kitchen counter, fingers tapping against the countertop. “we got along, i guess. but we just decided to be friends.”

“huh.” seungcheol shrugs, clearly unconcerned, though there’s something in the way he watches you that makes you pause. “so you’re saying you don’t feel any connection with him at all?”

you shift, rubbing the back of your neck. “it’s just… not there. but whatever. i’m fine.”

“you sure?” seungcheol presses, his voice dropping an octave, and you can’t help but notice how close he’s sitting now. “because i’m sure someone else would love the chance to—”

“ugh, please.” you cut him off, trying to brush it off. “i don’t need some random guy to be interested.”

he smirks, clearly not buying it. “really? sounds like you do.”

you bite your lip, trying to hold onto your patience, but it’s slipping through your fingers. you know he’s teasing, and usually, you’d laugh it off, but tonight feels different. there’s a tension in the air that you can’t ignore, something that’s been building for years. frustration bubbles up inside you, and before you can stop yourself, the words spill out.

“cheol, i like you, okay?” you blurt out, your voice trembling slightly, surprised by how easily it all comes rushing out.

he pauses, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processes your words. there’s a moment of silence, and you feel like you’re about to suffocate under the weight of it. his gaze flickers to your face, then down to your hands, then back to your eyes, as if trying to figure out what’s really going on.

“wait,” he says slowly, his tone less playful and more cautious now. “you’re not drunk, are you? had drinks or something when you were out?”

you quickly shake your head, trying to steady your breath. “no, i’m not drunk. i just—” but the words feel clumsy on your tongue, and suddenly, you’re unsure of how to take them back.

“i shouldn’t have said that,” you mutter, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “this was stupid, i’m sorry. i don’t even know why i—”

you start rambling, trying to downplay the confession that’s just slipped out. each word feels like it’s digging you deeper, and you just want to take it all back. “i mean, i don’t even know what i was thinking—this is—god, i’m so—”

but before you can finish, seungcheol pushes himself off the couch and walks towards you, stopping just a few inches away. his eyes still lock on yours. the silence stretches, and you feel your heart race, your breath catching in your throat. you want to say something, to apologize again, but all the words are caught in your chest.

“stop,” he says softly, his voice low, but there’s an intensity in it that you can’t ignore.

you open your mouth, wanting to explain, to take back the awkward confession, but the words jumble in your mind. “it’s just… i didn’t want to make it weird, and now i’ve probably ruined everything—”

seungcheol doesn’t say anything, just watches you with an unreadable look in his eyes, waiting for you to stop rambling. you go on anyway, trying to explain yourself, even though you can feel yourself getting more flustered with each passing second.

before you can continue, he steps forward, his hand gently cupping your face, cutting off your words. you freeze, eyes wide, but before you can process anything, his lips crash onto yours, effectively silencing you.

the kiss is deep and urgent, like he’s been holding back too. your brain barely registers what’s happening as your hands instinctively move to his chest, but the tension that had been building between you both for so long snaps. everything goes quiet in your mind, and for the first time tonight, all the chaos and nerves fall away, replaced by the heat of his kiss.

the kiss lingers for a moment, intense and raw, as if neither of you wants to pull away. your breath mingles with his, the world around you blurring until there’s only the feeling of him so close, so real. your heart pounds in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears, and you can feel the tension in his body as he holds you just a bit tighter, as if he’s afraid you might slip away.

when he finally pulls back, you’re left breathless, your forehead resting against his as you both try to catch your breath. his hands are still on you, one gently holding your face, the other resting on your hip, grounding you.

“you really don’t make things easy, do you?” he murmurs, his voice a little hoarse, the teasing edge back in his tone, but it’s softer now, more affectionate.

you don’t trust yourself to speak right away. all the words that had been stuck in your chest before are now lost, replaced by the overwhelming feeling of him so close, his touch still lingering on your skin. instead, you look up at him, meeting his eyes, trying to make sense of everything, but before you can say anything, he smiles slightly, a genuine, soft expression.

“i didn’t realise how much i liked you until you told me about that guy,” he admits, brushing his thumb over your cheek gently. “i was too stupid to notice.”

you dont get to reply because his hand moves down your back, pulling you closer, your chest pressed against his. the room feels warmer now, charged with something you can't ignore. your hands find their way to his chest, pushing lightly at first, unsure if you should pull away or let it happen. but he doesn't give you that chance.

his lips return to yours, but this time, there's more urgency in it, his kiss deepening as his tongue brushes against yours. you let out a soft sigh, the tension that's been building between you two for what feels like forever finally snapping. he groans, his hand moving to your neck, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss further. the heat between you both grows, and you can feel every inch of him pressing against you, making your pulse quicken.

seungcheol's voice is low, almost a whisper as he takes a step back, hands resting on your waist, grounding you both. "do you want to keep going?" he asks.

you nod, your heart racing, but your mind is clear. “yes.”

he doesn't say anything more, just nods and gently takes your hand, leading you through the apartment. when you get to your room, he lays you down on the bed gently, his hands never leaving you.

seungcheol hovers over you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation, any sign that you’re unsure. you can feel his body close to yours, the warmth radiating off him. “are you sure?”

“yes, cheol.” you let out a light laugh, pulling him closer. “im sure.”

his lips trail down your jaw, each kiss softer than the last before he moves to your neck, his teeth grazing slightly over the skin. you let out a soft sigh once he pulls back after reaching where your shirt starts. before he can say anything, you’re reaching for the hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric over your head.

seungcheol takes a moment, his gaze lingering on you before meeting your eyes again.

“you’re so beautiful,” he says, unclasping your bra and slipping it off. “god.”

his hands find their way to your pants as he trails kisses down your chest, each one growing more desperate as his lips move lower. the warmth of his breath against your skin sends a shiver through you, and you can feel your heart race with every gentle press of his lips.

eventually, he pulls your pants off, discarding them somewhere on the floor behind him. “please.” you breathe out

“hmm?” he responds, his fingers slipping just under the band of your panties. “what do you want, baby?”

“need you inside me, please.”

he glances down at you, lips twitching up into a smirk. “patience.”

“no, no, no— cheol, please—” you whimper out.

“don’t worry, you’ll get what you want.” he cuts you off, pressing a light kiss to your collarbone.

when he finally stops teasing you and pulls your panties down, tossing them god knows where, you’re already a mess underneath him. every nerve in your body is on edge, anticipation building as he slides two fingers through your folds. “fuck, you’re soaking wet for me, baby.” a low groan escapes his lips, his restraint wavering as he fights to hold himself back.

he slowly pushes one finger into your pussy, giving you a moment to relax before he adds another and starts to curl them into all the right places.

“cheol!” your head falls back against the pillow, hand going to grab his wrist for some sort of stability.

“yeah, you like that?”

you’re already so close — just from the way his fingers move inside you, hitting every spot that sends sparks shooting througu your body.

you nod over and over again, hips rising to match the rhythm of his movements. “don’t stop— fuck— please, im so close.”

your breath hitches, and you clutch at his arm, desperate for grounding as the sensations overwhelm you. every stroke of his fingers feels like its pulling you closer to the brink, and the tension in your body winds tighter with each passing second. “please—” the word slips out as a whisper, barely audible. your legs start to shake, the pleasure coursing through you almost too much to bear.

before you can even warn seungcheol, you’re coming undone all over his fingers, hips bucking up at the same time.

“god, thats so hot.” he mutters, but you’re too out of it to know if its to you or himself.

"you alright?" seungcheol asks softly, his hand resting on your hip as he looks down at you with concern. his touch is gentle, almost hesitant, as if he's checking for any sign of discomfort.

you nod, your breath still ragged, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "yeah, i'm good. just... didn't expect that." your voice is breathy, the lingering effects of the moment still making your body tingle.

seungcheol smirks, clearly pleased with the reaction. "you sure you're not too overwhelmed?" he teases, his hand moving to brush a strand of hair out of your face.

you laugh softly, the sound shaky but genuine. "im fine" you reply, looking up at him with a playful glint in your eye. "was that your way of saying you like me too?"

“it was.” he smirks, eyes locking onto yours. “think you can go for one more round?”

he really is going to be the death of you.

#seventeen #svt #svt smut #seventeen smut #seungcheol #scoups #choi seungcheol #choi seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seungcheol smut #kpop #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #smut #fanfic

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earthtooz · 2 days ago

Note

Rin is definitely the type of boyfriend who gets flustered when you praise him and tell him how cute he is

FOR SUREEEEE, gn!reader, new relationship rin so he's a bit clueless.

“what are these bags for?”

itoshi rin stands before your doorway with multiple grocery bags in his hands, all stuffed to the brim. he doesn’t let you help, striding into your apartment without a care in the world. granted, he probably lifts more at the gym, so you doubt some groceries would inconvenience him. he doesn’t even struggle when he places them on your kitchen counter.

“they're for you.”

your eyes widen a little. “everything?”

“is that problem?”

“no- it’s just that you bought so many things,” you murmur, rummaging through the bags. inside you see numerous packagings of the same product, all in different flavours. “you bought... chips, cookies, cakes, milk, and melon pan?”

“there's matcha and strawberry as well.”

“rin," you huff, shaking your head. "as much as i appreciate your thoughtfulness, this is a bit much.”

he tucks his hands in his pockets. “i didn’t know which ones you liked, so i bought one of every flavour.”

“you could have just called and asked.”

rin blinks at you before averting his gaze, shyness overtaking him. “i… didn’t want to bother you.”

suddenly, two cold hands cup his cheeks, forcing him to look back at you and your cool skin is a nice contrast to the sudden heat that creeps up his neck.

“you're so cute,” you murmur.

then he feels you press a kiss to the corner of his lips, and his eyes widen. your warmth- the heat of your body pressed against his, always sends his brain into overdrive, and his whole face is flushed red by the time you part from him.

"you will never be a bother, message or call whenever you want." you reassure, the athlete watching you like a hawk as you take a step back to go through the bags. "you even bought some things i've never tried before! we can eat them together."

rin wants to listen. really, he does, but all he can think about is how he wants you to kiss him again, except he doesn't think he can utter a coherent sentence.

'you're so cute', he keeps repeating your words over and over again to try and wrap his head around the fact that you find him cute.

you even sealed it with a kiss.

"this must have been so expensive," you mutter while picking out every item. "i should pay you back for this-"

he scoffs. "you don't need to pay me back, that's stupid. i got these for you because i wanted to."

rin feels your arms circle around his torso, your face burying into the cashmere of his sweater and then he feels you squeeze him even tighter. "you're so sweet. i really have the best boyfriend."

the heat rushes back to his cheeks. this time, you notice it.

"are you blushing?" the turn of his head is instantaneous, hiding his flustered face from you.

"no."

"you're cute when you lie."

he grows even redder.

#this ain't even that good but i had an idea and ran with it #he calls you as soon as he leaves your apartment and you're like “hello? why'd you call?”. then he's like #“you told me i could message or call whenever.”#I'M GONNA BITE HIM.#itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #blue lock x reader

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santaasi · 1 day ago

Text

obviously blind

pairing: james potter x bsf!fem!reader

summary: for years, james potter thought he was chasing love. sirius black knew better — he’d been holding it all along.

warnings: fluff fluff fluff, friends to lovers, idiots in love, james calls reader love, no use of y/n, english isn’t my first language

word count: 11.3k

a/n: it was probably the longest idea to write and edit. i rewrote every moment a bunch of times trying to bring it all to perfection. therefore, this time I hope more than ever that you will like it and you will support me with a like, comment or reblog. have a nice time reading this work! love u <3

ᯓ★ now playing…

slaves – footprints

You left your mark on me like footprints in the snow

Would you promise me you'll never let me go

November 15, 1971 My dear best friend, Hogwarts is brilliant! You should see the castle; it’s massive, with these moving staircases that sometimes take you to places you didn’t even mean to go! I tried to get to Charms class last week and ended up in the Trophy Room instead. Sirius says it’s part of the fun, and I’m starting to agree. Speaking of fun, I made a new friend! His name’s Sirius Black, and he’s a bit of a troublemaker like me. Don’t tell Mum, but we might’ve let some Filibuster’s Fireworks off in the Great Hall during lunch. The teachers were furious, but the look on their faces was worth it. How’s Beauxbatons? Is it true your castle is magical in a totally different way? Sirius said something about unicorns roaming the grounds. Is that real? Write me everything—I want to know what it’s like over there. Hope you’re having as much fun as I am. Forever yours, Jamie

SIRIUS BLACK WAS UTTERLY SPENT. Not the charming, rakish kind of spent he might brag about after a late night of mischief, but truly, completely, soul-drainingly done. The journey to the Potter family cottage, which should have been a brisk jaunt, had turned into a Herculean trial. Blame the snowstorm that had swept through magical London like some vengeful Norse curse, burying everything in its path under heaps of frosty misery.

It started with a delayed train — no, not delayed, imprisoned. Sirius and James were already aboard when the announcement came, trapping them in a stuffy carriage surrounded by loudly complaining wizards and at least one crying baby. And because the universe clearly found Sirius’ misery entertaining, the train came to a jolting halt halfway to their destination, snow packing the tracks so thickly that it took hours of magical clearing before they moved again.

When they finally arrived at the station, they discovered that Mr. Potter, their much-needed savior with a warm car and a better attitude than either of them, had been delayed at work. Thus, Sirius and James were left to trudge through the snow-laden countryside, dragging their trunks behind them, with James’ endless chatter about Lily Evans ringing in Sirius’ ears like a persistent curse.

“Her smile, Padfoot,” James had sighed dreamily at least seventeen times, his glasses fogging up as if even thinking about Lily caused them to malfunction. “And the way she tucks her hair behind her ear when she’s concentrating—”

By the sixteenth sigh, Sirius had been sorely tempted to shove a fistful of snow into James’ face. By the seventeenth, he was mentally composing a list of Unforgivable Curses and ranking them by efficiency. Yet, even as he grumbled under his breath, Sirius couldn’t bring himself to abandon the trek. The Potters were the closest thing he had to a family, and spending Christmas anywhere else — no matter how dire the journey — was unthinkable.

When they finally reached the Potter home, Sirius didn’t so much step inside as collapse into it. He shoved the front door open with the dramatic flair of a man escaping death itself and sprawled across the polished wooden floor like a martyr for his own cause. His trunk fell beside him with a satisfying thud.

“Home at last,” he groaned, voice muffled against the rug. “Tell me, Prongs, do they serve last rites before cinnamon rolls, or do we skip straight to the feast?”

The cottage, of course, was as warm and welcoming as Sirius remembered. Strings of fairy lights twinkled across the beams, casting a cozy glow of red, gold, and green. A holly wreath hung crookedly on the wall — lil’James’ handiwork, no doubt — and the scent of pine mingled with the tantalizing aroma of cinnamon, butter, and something sweet. Sirius’ stomach growled audibly.

“Oi, shut it, you ungrateful mutt,” James shot back with a grin, though Sirius could see his friend’s eyes darting toward the kitchen. “You’re embarrassing us in front of the wreath.”

James hadn’t even set his trunk down before a figure appeared in the doorway.

At first, Sirius barely registered her presence. He was too busy muttering about the injustice of underage magic restrictions. But then — oh, then — she stepped fully into view.

A girl.

Not just any girl, but you.

You moved with a kind of quiet confidence that Sirius instantly clocked, your steps unhurried, your presence undeniable. The golden glow of the fairy lights danced across your hair, giving it a shimmer that seemed almost unreal. You were wrapped in a deep blue jumper — Sirius realized this after a moment’s brain lag — and your cheeks were rosy, likely from the heat of the kitchen.

You carried a tray of steaming cinnamon rolls, the scent of melted sugar and spice trailing after you like some kind of domestic enchantment. Sirius’ mouth went dry, and for the first time in years, he was at a loss for words.

“Well,” he managed after a beat, hauling himself upright and trying for a semblance of decorum. “Now I see why you were so keen to come home, Prongs. You’ve got cinnamon-roll-bearing angels dropping out of the sky.”

You laughed, soft and melodic, the sound so unguarded it seemed to wrap the room in warmth. Sirius couldn’t help but notice the way your lips curled into a smile that was equal parts inviting and mysterious.

“Hello to you too, Sirius,” you said, your voice carrying a familiarity that made his ears perk up.

Sirius blinked. Wait. Of course. This wasn’t some celestial being summoned to his rescue; this was James’ childhood best friend. The one James had vaguely mentioned — just a handful of times over the years, always in passing and with a strange softness that Sirius hadn’t thought to question before.

And yet, here you were. In the flesh. Standing in the middle of the Potters’ living room with a tray of baked goods and a smile that Sirius suspected had the power to stop traffic.

“Well, well, Jamie-boy,” Sirius drawled, nudging James with his elbow and watching his friend with amused curiosity. “You never told me the famous cinnamon-roll angel was also — what’s the word? Ah, yes — real.”

You raised an eyebrow at Sirius’ antics, though your smile didn’t falter. Instead, you glanced toward James, who looked like he’d been hit with a Confundus Charm.

Sirius smirked. “James, mate, you alright? You’ve gone all... slack-jawed.”

But James wasn’t paying him any attention. His hazel eyes were locked on you, wide and brimming with something Sirius couldn’t quite place. He watched as James' gaze traced over the streak of flour smudged on your cheek, the stray strands of hair escaping from your ponytail, and the red apron dusted with flour and cinnamon.

Sirius almost snorted aloud. This was the James Potter who couldn’t shut up about Lily Evans — the boy who spent half his waking hours plotting ways to win her over. And yet, here he was, staring at you like you’d just descended from the heavens.

“Jamie,” you said softly, setting the tray down on the nearby table.

It was just one word, but the way you said it — warm, tender, and utterly unguarded — sent a jolt through Sirius.

Before he could process what was happening, James crossed the room in a few long strides and swept you into his arms. You squealed in surprise, and the sound was pure delight, echoing off the walls.

Sirius blinked, startled. The way James held you — hands firm on your waist, his head dipping into the crook of your neck — wasn’t friendly, not by a long shot. Sirius had known James since he was eleven years old, had seen him charm and flirt with half of Hogwarts, but he had never seen this.

“Missed me, Jamie?” you teased, your fingers slipping into his unruly hair with the kind of ease that spoke of years of familiarity.

“Always,” James murmured, so quietly Sirius barely caught it.

“Bloody hell,” Sirius muttered under his breath.

He glanced around the room, half-expecting someone to explain this baffling scene, but it was just him, James, and you, wrapped up in some intimate little bubble that made Sirius feel like an intruder.

James murmured something into your shoulder — too soft for Sirius to catch — and you laughed, your voice light and unrestrained. The sound pulled James’ head up, and Sirius couldn’t miss the way his eyes traced your face with a kind of devotion Sirius had only read about in sappy romance novels.

It was then that the memories began to click into place. The scattered mentions over the years, the odd tone James always took when he talked about you. “She’s not like anyone else, Padfoot. She just gets it.” Or that one summer when James had come back to Hogwarts looking utterly miserable and wouldn’t explain why. Sirius had teased him about it for weeks, thinking it was Lily-related. But now, seeing the way James looked at you...

“Wait a minute,” Sirius blurted, his grin widening as realization dawned. “You’re the one. The one he’s always sneaking off to write letters to, the one he’s all secretive about.”

James shot him a glare, his cheeks burning bright red.

“Padfoot—”

“—the one who sent him that hideous scarf last Christmas!” Sirius continued, thoroughly enjoying himself now. “I knew there had to be someone. Prongs doesn’t just get that moony-eyed look over just anyone.”

You laughed again, covering your face with your hands, while James muttered something about strangling Sirius later.

Before Sirius could needle him further, the kitchen door creaked open, and Euphemia Potter swept into the room. She was radiant as always, her cheeks rosy from the cold, her dark hair streaked with silver. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw James.

“There’s my boy!” she exclaimed, pulling him into a tight hug before he could even attempt to protest.

“Hi, Mum,” James mumbled, his voice muffled against her shoulder.

Euphemia pulled back, cupping his face in her hands as though memorizing every detail. “It’s been too long, Jamie. Too long. You’re far too skinny — have you been eating properly at school? And what have you done with your hair?”

James groaned, though his smile was fond.

Then her eyes fell on Sirius, and the warmth in her expression grew tenfold.

“Sirius, my dear,” she said, moving toward him with open arms. “I’m so glad you’re home, too.”

Sirius froze for a moment, caught off guard. He wasn’t used to this — the genuine affection, the way Euphemia made him feel like he belonged.

When her arms wrapped around him, the embrace firm and filled with love, Sirius felt an odd lump form in his throat. He couldn’t help but think of his own mother’s cold, perfunctory hugs, her disdainful gaze, and the way her affection always felt like a transaction.

“You’ve grown even handsomer,” Euphemia said, pulling back to study him. “Fleamont’s going to be jealous.”

Sirius managed a crooked grin, the lump in his throat still stubbornly there. “That’s the goal, Mrs. Potter. Keep him on his toes.”

Euphemia laughed, her eyes twinkling, before cupping his cheek briefly. “You’re family now, Sirius. Never forget that.”

Satisfied, Euphemia turned her attention to you. Her face softened even more, and she reached out to squeeze your hands. “Oh, there you are, dear. I was wondering where my helper had gone. The mince pies won’t bake themselves, you know”

You shot James a quick, playful glance before following Euphemia toward the door. “I’ll be back in a bit,” you said, your smile lingering.

As Mrs. Potter ushered you toward the door to finish the pies, Sirius remained rooted to the spot. The warmth from her hug lingered, and for a fleeting moment, he thought of how lucky James was to have parents like that — and how lucky he was to have stumbled into their lives.

James watched you leave, his gaze following you until you were out of sight. Sirius couldn’t help but laugh.

“Mate,” he said, clapping James on the shoulder. “You’re a goner.”

James huffed, shoving him away, but the goofy grin on his face was impossible to hide.

And Sirius? Sirius couldn’t wait to see how this played out.

July 2, 1973 My Love, Summer’s only just started, and I can’t wait to see you. Mum’s already planning another one of her “legendary” tea parties, which means she’ll fuss over you endlessly. You’ll smile politely and charm her like always, and she’ll end up spoiling you with biscuits to take back to Beauxbatons. I’ve got so much to tell you. Sirius and I found this secret passageway that leads straight to Hogsmeade. We’ve been practicing spells to make it even harder for Filch to find us. Remus is shaking his head, but I think he secretly loves our schemes. Oh, and Lily—she’s still brilliant. She’s got the most incredible laugh. But you, my love, I bet your laugh would still outshine hers any day.

Do you still walk in those Beauxbatons gardens at sunset? I can imagine you there, glowing in the soft light. It suits you. Write me back quickly, won’t you? The days are always better when I hear from you. Forever yours, Jamie

SIRIUS BLACK HAD ALWAYS KNOWN JAMES POTTER WAS A TACTILE PERSON. James spoke fluently in the language of touch — claps on the back that lingered just a second too long, overly enthusiastic shoulder bumps that almost knocked you off your feet, and the occasional arm slung around your shoulders like he was staking a claim. But this? This was something else entirely.

It wasn’t just the way James touched you. It was the way he seemed to orbit you, like some lovesick moon drawn to its planet. Wherever you were, James was never far behind — hovering, grinning, completely and utterly besotted without even realizing it. And for someone so allegedly brilliant, he was astoundingly stupid about it.

Sirius noticed it within minutes of their arrival at the Potter cottage for the holidays. As the snow settled outside, so did James — right beside you, always beside you. If you were arranging the flowers Euphemia had insisted on, James was there offering suggestions like he’d suddenly become an expert on floral arrangements. If you were curled up in the drawing room with a book, James was sprawled across the nearest sofa, pretending to read but actually just watching you out of the corner of his eye like some hopeless romantic idiot in a badly written Muggle novel.

Sirius had been rolling his eyes so much, they were practically stuck in the back of his head.

THE SECOND MORNING WAS WHEN THINGS REALLY CLICKED. Sirius had woken up earlier than usual — a rare and uncomfortable event for him. He had no plans to do anything productive, of course, but the faint sound of footsteps in the hallway intrigued him. Padding out of his room, he peeked around the corner just in time to see James sneaking toward the kitchen.

Naturally, Sirius followed. He found James standing at the counter, sleeves rolled up like some kind of domestic god, arranging breakfast with the precision of someone preparing an offering to Merlin himself. There was a plate of toast with cream cheese and thinly sliced avocado, a bowl of berries that looked like they’d been picked by woodland elves, and a steaming cup of coffee. The smell alone was enough to make Sirius reconsider his usual disdain for mornings.

“Fancy,” Sirius said, leaning lazily against the doorframe, voice still scratchy from sleep.

James jumped slightly but recovered quickly, flashing Sirius a sheepish grin. “Morning, Pads. Coffee’s on the counter.”

Sirius eyed the tray suspiciously. “Is this for you, or is it for your favorite person in the world aka me?”

James’s ears turned pink. “It’s for her,” he admitted, almost bashfully, like he hadn’t just spent ten minutes crafting the most meticulous breakfast Sirius had ever seen.

“Of course it is,” Sirius muttered with a smirk, grabbing a mug for himself. “You realize this is bordering on embarrassing, yeah?”

James shot him a look, but before he could respond, you appeared in the doorway, still looking half-asleep. Your hair was mussed, and the oversized jumper you’d borrowed from James was slipping off one shoulder, but you somehow managed to look effortlessly radiant. Sirius rolled his eyes again.

“Morning, love,” James said, his voice soft and warm in a way Sirius had never heard before.

“Morning, Jamie,” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep as you shuffled into the kitchen.

James practically tripped over himself to hand you the coffee. Sirius watched, amused, as James’s fingers brushed yours in the exchange, his entire face lighting up like someone had cast Lumos Maxima directly on it.

You took a long sip of the coffee, humming in contentment. “Perfect, as always,” you murmured, looking up at James with a sleepy smile that could have melted a Dementor.

And then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, you leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

Sirius nearly choked on his coffee. He wasn’t sure what was more painful — the nauseating sweetness of the moment or the fact that neither of you seemed to realize how completely ridiculous you were.

“Right, well, I’ll just... leave you two to it,” Sirius said, waving his mug in mock surrender as he backed out of the room. “Try not to get married while I’m gone.”

“Shut up, Sirius,” James called after him, but the way his voice wavered slightly betrayed his embarrassment.

By the time Sirius reached the living room, Euphemia and Fleamont were already seated by the fireplace, exchanging knowing glances like they’d seen this coming a mile away.

“Is he making her breakfast again?” Euphemia asked with a smile that was far too pleased for Sirius’s liking.

“Every detail,” Sirius confirmed, sinking into an armchair. “I’m starting to think he’s auditioning for Witch Weekly’s ‘Most Devoted Boyfriend’ feature.”

“Don’t tease him too much,” Euphemia said with a chuckle. “He’s just like his father was with me.”

“Merlin, it’s contagious,” Sirius groaned, dramatically throwing an arm over his face. “If I start acting like that, someone put me out of my misery.”

But even as he joked, Sirius couldn’t help but smile. Because for all his teasing, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that James was hopelessly gone for you. And judging by the way you looked at him, Sirius had a feeling the feeling was mutual — even if neither of you was bright enough to figure it out.

AND THEN THERE WERE THE SMALL, INTIMATE TOUCHES SIRIUS COULDN’T IGNORE, no matter how much he wanted to. James’s hand resting on the small of your back as he guided you through a doorway, like you might somehow lose your way without him. The way his fingers traced lazy patterns on your knee under the dinner table, as though the contact grounded him. Or how he’d tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering just long enough to make Sirius roll his eyes and fight back a gag.

It was maddening to watch, really. Not because Sirius minded the affection — no, James deserved a bit of softness in his life, and you were undeniably good for him. It was maddening because you were both so oblivious. James was a goner, sure, but you weren’t far behind. Every time you leaned into his touch, smiled up at him like he hung the stars, or called him Jamie in that soft, teasing tone, it was like watching two wizards tiptoe around a cauldron, waiting for it to explode.

One evening, as the three of you lounged in the living room, the dynamic was on full display. The Potters had insisted on a family movie night — Euphemia’s idea, of course, because family time was important. Sirius couldn’t say no to the fire roaring in the hearth, the massive bowl of popcorn, and the ridiculous Muggle Christmas film flickering on the screen. But as the minutes passed, he started to regret not escaping upstairs.

James had situated himself squarely in the middle of the sofa, with you tucked neatly under his arm. His hand played absently with the ends of your hair, fingers twisting the strands like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. You had your legs curled beneath you, leaning into him with the kind of comfort Sirius had only ever seen in old couples who had been together for decades. James pressed a kiss to your temple, murmuring something Sirius couldn’t quite catch.

It was unbearable.

“Oi, lovebirds,” Sirius interrupted, launching a piece of popcorn at James. It hit him square in the forehead, a small but satisfying victory. “Some of us are trying to watch the movie without choking on all this sap.”

You burst into laughter, sitting up just enough to toss a handful of popcorn back at him. “You’re just jealous, Black.”

“Jealous? Me?” Sirius placed a hand over his chest, mock-offended. “Of what, exactly? Watching James Potter transform into a human puddle before my very eyes? No thanks. I’ll pass.”

James didn’t even flinch. He just grinned, looking every bit the lovesick fool he was. “You’ll get it one day, Pads,” he said with infuriating calm.

Sirius snorted, grabbing a handful of popcorn and tossing it into his mouth. “Right. Because what I’m really missing in my life is the chance to turn into that.” He gestured at the two of you with a dramatic wave of his hand.

But despite his teasing, Sirius couldn’t ignore the warmth spreading in his chest as he watched the scene unfold. James, the arrogant, Quidditch-obsessed, devil-may-care prankster he’d known all his life, was utterly, completely, hopelessly in love. And the worst — or perhaps best — part? He didn’t even seem to realize it.

BY THE END OF THESE COUPLE OF DAYS VACK AT THE POTTER COTTAGE, SIRIUS KNEW. James Potter wasn’t in love with Lily Evans — not really, not anymore and maybe not ever. He was in love with you. It wasn’t in the dramatic declarations Sirius had once teased James about making to Lily. No, this was quieter, deeper. It was in the way James’s gaze softened whenever you spoke, like he couldn’t believe you were real. In the way his hand always seemed to find yours, even when there was no need for it. And in the way his entire being lit up when you smiled at him.

And you? You weren’t much better. You laughed at his terrible jokes, poked fun at him with an ease Sirius envied, and looked at James like he was the center of the universe. It was so obvious it made Sirius want to scream.

“This isn’t normal, you know,” Sirius said later that night, cornering James in the kitchen as he made tea.

“What’s not normal?” James asked, far too casually for Sirius’s liking.

“You and her. You’re not just friends. Stop pretending you are.”

James frowned, his brow furrowing in confusion. “We are just friends. She’s my best mate, Pads. You know that.”

Sirius laughed, loud and sharp, shaking his head. “Oh, Prongsie. You’re an idiot.”

“Am not,” James shot back, but there was a flicker of doubt in his voice.

Sirius leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms. “If you’re just friends, then I’m a unicorn. Face it, Potter — you’re in love.”

James opened his mouth, probably to argue, but then you walked into the room, yawning and looking for all the world like you belonged there. James’s expression softened immediately, his gaze lingering on you like you were the only thing that mattered.

Sirius didn’t say another word. He didn’t need to.

Because James Potter was already lost, and for once, Sirius didn’t mind watching his best mate fall.

March 30, 1975

My Love, It’s been ages since your last letter, and I miss you like mad. Exams are coming up, and I’m hopeless at concentrating without your words to keep me sane. The Marauders are in full swing, though—our latest adventure involved sneaking a swamp into one of the corridors. Filch is still grumbling about it. I told you before how Lily has the most beautiful laugh, right? Well, I think she might finally be warming up to me. I’m playing it cool, but honestly, every time she looks at me, I feel like a kid with a new broomstick. And yet... you’re still the one I write to when I want to share everything. Funny, isn’t it? How’s the ballet going? I remember you mentioned your school recital. I wish I could see you dance. You’d be like a dream on stage, graceful and bright. Maybe one day. Forever yours, Jamie

SIRIUS BLACK WASN’T ONE TO BELIEVE IN LOVE — not the kind spun into poetry or whispered in secret corners of libraries. Sweet words, fleeting touches, long glances… all of it sounded like an elaborate prank. A fantasy created by people who hadn’t tasted the bitterness of the world.

How could anyone believe in love when raised in a house where affection was a weapon and the family motto might as well have been stab first, smile later? The Black family had given Sirius many things: wealth, privilege, and a last name dripping in infamy. But love? That was a foreign concept, spoken in a dialect he’d never been taught.

And yet, Sirius Black — child of darkness and rebellion — had found light. That light had a name: James Potter. From the moment James had barreled into Sirius’s life, grinning like the sun itself, everything had shifted. James had yanked him out of the shadows and dragged him into a world Sirius didn’t know existed — a world filled with warmth, laughter, and actual hugs.

It wasn’t just James, though. It was the whole bloody Potter family. Euphemia and Fleamont were like characters out of a Muggle holiday film. Euphemia, with her soft, unrelenting affection, had made it her personal mission to drown Sirius in love and sweaters. Fleamont’s laughter could fill a room, a deep, belly-shaking sound that warmed Sirius from the inside out. Together, they moved through the world as though their love was an unshakable force, a steady undercurrent in every shared look and word.

“Darling,” Fleamont would call from across the kitchen, leaning over the counter with a newspaper in hand.

“Yes, Fleamont?” Euphemia would reply, her smile soft and teasing as she stirred whatever heavenly dish she was making.

Never by name. Always darling.

Still, if love like that was rare, James bloody Potter seemed hell-bent on stumbling into it without even realizing.

James and you had been dancing around each other for years, so oblivious it was borderline painful. Sirius sometimes wondered if you two were practicing for a comedy sketch, the way you acted like best mates while exuding the kind of tension that could make a Dementor blush. If Sirius had a Galleon for every time James looked at you like you were the only person in the room, he could have bought his own Quidditch team by now. And he's only been watching you for a couple of days.

IT WAS THE FOURT DAY OF HIS CHRISTMAS STAY AT THE POTTER HOME, and the dynamic was impossible to ignore. You and James were practically inseparable, moving through the house like two planets caught in the same orbit. You helped Euphemia with the decorations while James carried boxes of ornaments up from the cellar, always hovering nearby like he was afraid you might vanish if he looked away.

“You know,” Sirius said, leaning casually against the doorway, “most people don’t need to supervise someone hanging tinsel.”

James didn’t even glance back. “She’s not most people, Pads.”

Sirius groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “For Merlin’s sake, just marry her already.”

James froze, an ornament dangling from his hand. “What are you on about? We’re just friends.”

“Sure, and I’m a Muggle,” Sirius shot back, rolling his eyes.

You, blissfully unaware of the conversation, turned from where you were perched on a stepstool. “What are you two arguing about now?”

“Nothing,” James said quickly, his cheeks tinged pink. “Sirius is just being Sirius.”

“That’s never good,” you teased, smirking at Sirius.

“Oi! I’ll have you know I’m delightful company.” Sirius crossed his arms, feigning offense. “But if you’re not careful, pretty, you’ll end up trapped in Potter’s web of undying devotion.”

You raised an eyebrow, stepping down from the stool. “Potter’s web of what now?”

James shot Sirius a warning glare, but Sirius just grinned. “Oh, nothing. Just that James here is—”

“Hungry!” James interrupted, loudly and awkwardly. “Right, Pads? Didn’t you say you were starving?”

Sirius barked a laugh, shaking his head as James practically shoved him out of the room. “Subtle as ever, Prongs.”

From Sirius’s vantage point, it was painfully obvious. James was hopelessly, stupidly in love with you. And you? You weren’t much better. The way you smiled at him, teased him, trusted him without question — it was all the evidence Sirius needed. And yet, you were both blissfully, idiotically unaware.

One evening, as Sirius sprawled on the sofa in the Potters’ living room, he couldn’t help but notice the way you and James interacted. You were sitting cross-legged on the floor, rifling through a box of Christmas decorations Euphemia had set out.

“Jamie, hand me the gold bauble,” you said, tossing him a quick glance over your shoulder.

James, who had been half-heartedly untangling a string of lights, immediately perked up. “Which one?”

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. “The one in your hand, genius.”

James laughed, tossing it gently toward you. It missed entirely, landing with a soft thud on the carpet.

“Good aim, Prongs,” Sirius drawled from his spot on the couch. “Truly inspiring.”

“Shut it, Padfoot,” James shot back, but his grin never faltered. He turned to you, sheepish. “Sorry, love.”

Love. Sirius didn’t miss the way the word slipped out so naturally, like James had been saying it his whole life. And he definitely didn’t miss the way your cheeks flushed as you ducked your head, pretending to focus on the decorations.

LATER THAT EVENING, SIRIUS FOUND HIMSELF LAYING ON THE SOFA IN THE LIVING ROOM AGAIN (it probably was his favorite place in the house by now), a book abandoned on his chest as he watched Euphemia and Fleamont dancing in the kitchen once, a slow, swaying movement that didn’t match the upbeat Muggle music crackling from the wireless. Euphemia had rested her head on Fleamont’s chest, his arms wrapped around her like it was the only place in the world she belonged. It wasn’t dramatic or flashy — just simple and unshakable. And it made Sirius ache in ways he didn’t understand.

And a moment later they were in the same kitchen, preparing tea and laughing softly as they worked.

“Darling, pass me the sugar, would you?” Fleamont said, his voice warm and affectionate.

Euphemia handed him the sugar bowl without looking up, her smile soft. “Here you go, darlin'.”

It was the kind of exchange that Sirius might have mocked once. But now, as he watched the way Fleamont leaned in to kiss Euphemia’s cheek, or how she swatted him away with a laugh when he tried to sneak a biscuit, he felt something unfamiliar tugging at his chest.

“They’re sickeningly sweet, aren’t they?”

Sirius turned to see you standing in the doorway, a mug of hot chocolate in your hands.

“They are,” he admitted, sitting up and motioning for you to join him. “But it’s sort of... nice. In a vomit-inducing way.”

You laughed, settling beside him. “I think it’s lovely. They’re so in tune with each other, you know? Like they’ve been dancing to the same song for decades.”

Sirius tilted his head, watching you as you spoke. “And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you want that? The whole ‘dancing to the same song’ thing?”

You hesitated, your fingers tracing the rim of your mug. “I don’t know. I suppose it would be nice, but... I’m not sure it’s in the cards for me.”

Sirius frowned. “Why not?”

You shrugged, a wistful smile tugging at your lips. “Because my dance partner’s too busy tripping over his own feet to notice I’m right here.”

Sirius stared at you, his mind racing. Did you mean James? Surely you meant James. But before he could say anything, James walked in, ruffling his hair like he always did.

“Alright, what are you two plotting?”

“World domination,” Sirius replied without missing a beat. “Want in?”

James grinned, flopping onto the sofa and immediately throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Always.”

Sirius watched as you leaned into James, your head resting against his shoulder. James turned to look at you, his expression soft and unguarded.

And that’s when Sirius knew — again, because he seemed to be realizing this every ten minutes — just how much trouble you two were in.

DAYS LATER, SIRIUS WAS STANDING BY THE WINDOW OF THE POTTER COTTAGE, a steaming mug of hot chocolate warming his hands. The world outside was a vision of winter — snow blanketed the ground in pristine white, the trees bowed under its weight, and the air held a sharp, crystalline stillness. Inside, the house was alive with warmth: the crackle of the fire, the gentle hum of Euphemia’s humming, and Fleamont’s cheerful banter as he set up a chessboard by the hearth.

But Sirius wasn’t watching any of that. His attention was fixed on the two figures trudging down the snow-covered path just beyond the window.

You and James walked side by side, your mittened hands brushing against each other with the kind of unconscious familiarity that spoke volumes. The path ahead glittered in the weak afternoon sun, the frost catching the light like scattered diamonds. Clouds of breath curled into the frosty air as you laughed at something James said, the sound clear and bright, even from a distance.

Sirius couldn’t hear the words, but he didn’t need to. He saw everything in the way James turned his head toward you, his face lit with the sort of joy that was impossible to fake.

Then it happened — your foot slipped on a patch of hidden ice. Sirius’s grip on his mug tightened for half a heartbeat, but James was already there. His hand shot out, steadying you before you could fall, as if the world might crumble if he didn’t catch you in time.

“Careful there, love,” James said, his voice carrying easily through the crisp winter air.

You laughed, brushing snow from your coat as your cheeks turned pink — not just from the cold, Sirius was sure. “You’d think I’d have learned how to walk by now.”

James grinned, tugging you a little closer to his side. “Good thing you’ve got me.”

“Good thing indeed,” you replied, your eyes crinkling at the corners, your voice soft and full of affection.

And then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, James reached out to brush a stray snowflake from your hair. His fingers lingered for just a moment, his expression open and unguarded, filled with something so pure that Sirius had to look away for a second.

It wasn’t the first time Sirius had seen that look on James’s face. It was the same quiet, awestruck gaze he’d noticed a thousand times when James thought no one was watching. But seeing it now, against the backdrop of snow and laughter, it struck Sirius like a Bludger to the chest.

That’s how Fleamont looked at Euphemia, Sirius realized. He’d seen it that very morning, when Euphemia had walked into the kitchen with a sleepy smile and Fleamont had paused mid-sentence, his face lighting up as if she were the sunrise itself.

Sirius took a long sip of his hot chocolate, the sweetness of it sharp against the lump forming in his throat. He muttered to himself, a small smile tugging at his lips, “Never by name. Always love.”

“What are you smiling about, Sirius?” Euphemia’s voice broke the quiet, warm and curious. She stood in the doorway, wiping her hands on a tea towel.

He turned, raising his mug in a mock toast. “Oh, nothing, Mrs. P. Just watching James make a right fool of himself in the snow. Again.”

Euphemia chuckled, stepping closer to peer out the window. Her gaze softened as she spotted you and James, now engaged in some sort of playful shoving match, James clearly letting you win.

“Hopeless,” Sirius added, shaking his head.

“Like father, like son,” Euphemia said with a knowing smile.

Sirius huffed a laugh. “Yeah. Exactly like that.”

They stood in companionable silence for a moment, watching the scene outside. Sirius’s gaze lingered on James’s hand as it rested on your shoulder, the ease of the gesture speaking louder than words.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Sirius allowed himself to believe. Not just in the love he saw in James’s face or the easy affection between Fleamont and Euphemia. But in the idea that maybe—just maybe—love wasn’t the cruel, twisted thing his family had tried to make him believe.

Maybe love, real love, was something entirely different.

November 27, 1976

My Jamie, Winter has settled over Beauxbatons, and the mountains are kissed with snow. I wish you could see how the frost sparkles on the trees. I think of you often, imagining the mischief you’re up to at Hogwarts. I heard you’re Quidditch Captain now — congratulations! I can already picture you soaring through the air, the wind in your hair and that unstoppable grin. You were born to lead, Jamie, and I’m so proud of you. Your mum wrote me again last week. She’s sent another scarf, this one in Gryffindor colors. She says it’ll keep me close to you. It does, in a way — I wrap it around myself when I miss you most. Do you think of me as much as I think of you? You’re my constant, my warmth on the coldest days. Soon it’ll be Christmas, and we’ll have the stars and endless nights to talk about everything. Until then, stay safe, my Jamie. Forever yours, Love

THE CHRISTMAS CHAOS AT THE POTTER HOUSE STARTED BEFORE SIRIUS EVEN HAD A CHANCE TO GRUMBLE ABOUT THE HOUR. The sun wasn’t up yet, but Fleamont Potter most certainly was, barreling into James’s room with the energy of a man half his age. Before Sirius could properly complain — or hide under the covers — he and James were unceremoniously hauled to the garage. Their mission? Assembling the absurdly large Christmas table that Euphemia insisted on every year.

Sirius swore under his breath, wrestling with the oversized wooden monstrosity. “You know,” he grumbled, glaring at James, “if your parents had just gone for a nice, normal-sized table, we wouldn’t be out here freezing our—”

“Language, Sirius!” Fleamont interrupted cheerfully, though there was a definite glint of amusement in his eyes.

Sirius rolled his eyes but complied, though only because Euphemia’s kitchen smelled like heaven, and he was determined to earn his way to a plate of whatever was roasting in the oven.

Inside, the house was a picture of festive perfection: holly strung along the bannisters, twinkling fairy lights glowing softly in the corners, and a wireless by the fireplace playing carols just loud enough to make Sirius hum along when no one was listening. Euphemia’s soft laughter echoed from the kitchen, mingling with yours as the two of you prepared a feast fit for kings — or in this case, a house full of Marauders.

And James? Well, James wasn’t himself.

Sirius noticed it almost immediately. His best mate was usually a hurricane of enthusiasm during the holidays, cracking jokes, sneaking sweets from the kitchen, and generally making a nuisance of himself. But today, James kept glancing toward the kitchen like a puppy waiting for its owner to come home.

The idiot was besotted.

Every time your laughter drifted into the room, James’s head whipped around like he was under some sort of spell. If you so much as said his name, he’d stop mid-sentence, his eyes lighting up like the Christmas tree in the corner. Sirius would’ve teased him mercilessly if it weren’t so... obvious. Painfully, ridiculously obvious.

LATER THAT AFTERNOON, WHEN JAMES AND FLEAMONT HAD VANISHED TO THE GARAGE — probably to charm something they had no business charming — Sirius found himself tasked with tidying up James’s room. He grumbled the whole time, of course. Cleaning wasn’t his style, and James’s room was a disaster zone: Quidditch magazines spilling off the desk, parchment crumpled in corners, and socks scattered in ways that defied the laws of physics.

“Honestly, Prongs,” Sirius muttered, holding up a suspiciously stiff sock with the tips of his fingers. “How are you supposed to woo Evans — or anyone, for that matter — when your room smells like the wrong end of a hippogriff?”

As he moved to clear a particularly cluttered shelf, a box caught his eye. It was tucked in the far corner, partially hidden behind an old textbook. Sirius raised an eyebrow. Anything stashed away like that was bound to be interesting. With a mischievous grin, he reached for it, only for the entire thing to tumble off the shelf, spilling its contents across the floor.

“Bloody hell,” he swore, crouching to pick up the mess. His hand froze mid-reach when he realized what had fallen out: letters. Dozens of them, bundled in ribbons of various colors.

Sirius sat back on his heels, eyeing the pile. His curiosity, as always, got the better of him. With a glance at the door to ensure James wasn’t about to barge in, he grabbed the nearest stack and plopped himself onto the bed, cross-legged and grinning like a kid about to open a box of Zonko’s best tricks.

The first letter he unfolded smelled faintly of vanilla. Your scent, Sirius realized, and his grin faltered for just a moment.

October 7, 1971 Beauxbatons is so different from Hogwarts. The professors here are so strict, James, sometimes it feels like I’m being watched all the time! I miss the feeling of freedom you must have at Hogwarts, even if you’re always getting into trouble with Sirius. Do you ever just wish you could escape the rules and run wild?

Sirius chuckled softly, his eyes scanning the elegant handwriting. “Trouble? Me? Never,” he muttered, his tone dripping with mock innocence.

But as he reread the letter, a strange tightness settled in his chest. The way you wrote about Hogwarts — it wasn’t just about the school. It was about James. Even miles away, you saw him as something larger than life, as the embodiment of freedom and adventure.

And James? The idiot probably thought you were just being polite.

February 21, 1971 Sirius sounds like a bit of a handful, but I bet he’s hilarious. I think I’d like him, even if he does cause chaos. You all sound like you’re constantly up to something, but I imagine you get into trouble a lot, don’t you? Anyway, I’d love to hear more about his pranks— I’m sure you and him must make a great team!

Sirius barked a laugh. “A handful? Pretty, you have no idea.”

Still, the words struck a chord. He could see it so clearly now: the way you’d woven yourself into James’s world with every playful question and teasing remark. You weren’t just curious about his adventures; you wanted to be a part of them, to understand the boy behind the Quidditch bravado and the wild schemes.

Then came the letters about Lily.

March 25, 1973 James, you always talk about Lily, and I think it’s sweet that you have such admiration for her. I bet she doesn’t even know how much you like her. She sounds like she’d be really hard to win over, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Just don’t forget to have fun along the way, yeah?

Sirius groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Merlin’s saggy pants, Prongs, how thick can you be?”

He could almost picture you writing those words, the careful balance between encouragement and self-sacrifice. Even as you pushed James toward Lily, your letters were saturated with love — pure, unguarded, and heartbreakingly unspoken.

It was infuriating. How could two people so obviously meant for each other be so oblivious?

By the time Sirius reached the later letters, the humor had drained from his face.

December 5, 1974 Your mum sent me another gift! She’s so sweet, and I can’t believe how kind she is to me. It always makes me feel so loved. You know, when I’m away from you, it’s like I’m missing something... like the best part of my day. I never want to take our friendship for granted.

The parchment crinkled slightly as Sirius’s grip tightened. That wasn’t just gratitude — it was devotion, raw and aching. The kind of love that didn’t need fireworks or grand declarations because it was already woven into every moment, every memory.

And James? Sirius shook his head, a pang of frustration mixing with pity. James had spent years chasing the idea of love, blind to the fact that he already had it.

The final letter undid him.

December 12, 1975 I was thinking about you today, and how you’ve always been there for me — whether it was listening to me complain about the Beauxbatons professors or laughing with me when I’m in a bad mood. You’re always there, and I think that’s why I trust you more than anyone else. You’ll never know how much that means to me, Jamie.

Sirius closed his eyes, letting the words sink in. You didn’t just see James; you knew him. The real James — the boy who laughed too loudly, who lived for Quidditch, who couldn’t resist a good prank. You loved James, not the idealized version he tried to be for Lily or anyone else.

Sirius exhaled sharply, folding the letter with a reverence he didn’t usually bother with. His heart ached — not for himself, but for you, for James, for the years you’d both spent dancing around the truth.

“Merlin, you’re both idiots,” he muttered, though his voice was softer now.

Sirius ran a hand through his dark hair, ruffling it further into disarray, his mind replaying what he’d just uncovered. The letters — those bloody letters — had been the key. Now everything fell into place: James’s barely-there smiles over the past few days, the way his gaze lingered when you entered the room, the softness in his laugh when you said something clever. James Potter, his brash, unrelenting, wildfire of a best friend, was utterly transformed around you.

Balanced. Grounded. Sincere.

It was unbearably obvious now, as if someone had pulled back the curtain.

And yet, the idiot still had Lily Evans’s picture on his bedside table in his dorm.

Sirius’s gaze fell on the stack of letters once more, neatly tied with a ribbons that seemed far too delicate for James’s usual chaos. He could have left it alone, let James figure things out in his own thick-headed way — but that wasn’t Sirius Black’s style. If there was one thing he’d learned from years of pranks, broken curfews, and bending the rules until they snapped, it was this: sometimes people needed a push, even if it stung a little.

Sirius exhaled and leaned back against the headboard, the letters still in hand. "You're a fucking idiot," he muttered under his breath.

A slow smirk tugged at his lips. Oh, the look on James’s face when he confronted him — it would be priceless. Sirius wasn’t one for sentiment, but for you? For James? Maybe, just maybe, he’d make an exception.

The door creaked open, and James stumbled into the room, his steps heavy with exhaustion. Sirius watched as his best friend all but collapsed into the armchair by the bookcase, running a hand through his already-messy hair. He looked like he’d been wrestling dragons all day — or, more likely, his dad’s endless list of chores.

But there was something else, too. A tension in his jaw, a restless energy that practically vibrated off him. Sirius could see it plain as day: James hadn’t seen her all day, and it was driving him mad. She was so close — just a staircase or two away — and yet untouchable.

Sirius cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “So, Prongs, is this why you’ve been obsessing over the owl schedule for years? Didn’t peg you as the secret pen-pal type.”

James’s head snapped up, his hazel eyes narrowing in confusion. They darted to the bed, where the stack of letters lay exposed, and then to the shelf where the box had clearly been moved. He froze for a second before letting out a long, resigned sigh.

“Pads,” James said, his voice low and uneven, heavy with an edge Sirius rarely heard. “It’s not cool to read someone else’s letters.”

The room seemed to still, the words settling into the air like dust, soft but laden with weight. James’s eyes — those unmistakable hazel orbs that always held a spark of mischief — were guarded now, a flicker of something raw and unspoken behind them.

Sirius leaned forward, a grin stretching across his face like the blade of a knife, sharp and unapologetic. “Not cool,” he echoed, his voice laced with mockery, “is keeping this from me for six bloody years. Care to explain, or should I guess?”

James flinched, the tension in his shoulders visible even through the soft knit of his jumper. He moved toward the bed with the slow, deliberate steps of someone walking a tightrope, balancing the fragile threads of anger and restraint. The dim light of the room cast long shadows over his frame, making him seem taller, older — more vulnerable.

He reached for one of the letters, his hand hesitating for the briefest moment before his fingers curled around the parchment. His thumb brushed over the faded ink, tracing the loops of her handwriting like a blind man reading Braille. The edges of the letter were frayed, softened by years of touch, and as he lifted it to his face, Sirius caught the faintest smile tugging at James’s lips.

It was a small, private thing, that smile. Reverent. It wasn’t the boyish grin Sirius knew so well, the one James wielded like a weapon to charm or disarm. No, this was different — softer, as though the mere act of holding the letter in his hand brought James closer to something sacred.

Sirius felt his chest tighten. He’d seen James in every possible state — triumphant on the Quidditch pitch, livid after a prank gone wrong, devastated when the world seemed too heavy — but this? This was new. This was James Potter unguarded.

“She’s different, isn’t she?” Sirius said, his voice quieter now, almost gentle.

James didn’t look up. He sat on the edge of the bed, sorting the letters with a precision that bordered on ritual. Each movement was deliberate, his fingers careful not to smudge the ink or crease the paper. Sirius had never seen him handle anything with such care — not his broomstick, not his glasses, not even the Marauder’s Map.

“It’s not what you think,” James murmured, but the words lacked conviction, as though he knew they’d crumble under scrutiny.

Sirius scoffed, leaning back in his chair with an exasperated snort. “Not what I think? Mate, I think you’re in love with her and too much of an idiot to admit it. Am I wrong?”

James froze mid-motion, the ribbon he was tying slipping from his fingers. For a moment, he didn’t speak, didn’t move — just stared at the letters as if they might answer for him.

“She’s…” He trailed off, his voice barely audible. “She’s different, Pads. She’s… everything.”

There it was. The confession, raw and trembling in the space between them. Sirius leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his expression unusually serious.

“Yeah,” Sirius said softly. “She is. And that’s exactly why you’re a bloody idiot for pretending she’s not.”

James let out a bitter laugh, the sound low and fractured. He raked a hand through his already-messy hair, his movements frenetic, as though he were trying to shake off the weight of the moment.

“You don’t get it,” he said, his voice cracking under the strain. “It’s not that simple.”

“Like hell it isn’t,” Sirius shot back, his tone sharp but not cruel. “I’ve watched you for years, Prongs. You talk about Evans like she’s some kind of bloody trophy, but her? You look at her like she’s the air you breathe. Like without her, you’d suffocate. And you’re sitting here telling me it’s complicated?”

James’s laugh turned hollow, empty. “Lily’s… safe. She’s who I’m supposed to want. She’s not my bloody childhood best friend.”

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, Sirius said nothing. Then, he barked out a laugh, loud and biting.

“Safe?” he repeated, incredulous. “Since when have you ever played it safe, James Potter? Love’s not supposed to be safe. It’s messy, terrifying, and completely bloody worth it. Or are you seriously telling me you’d rather be ‘safe’ than happy?”

James looked up at him then, and Sirius’s breath caught. His best friend’s hazel eyes, usually so full of fire and mischief, were red-rimmed and glistening with unshed tears.

“Do you think…” James’s voice wavered, barely above a whisper. “Do you think she feels the same?”

Sirius’s grin returned, slow and wolfish. “Mate, judging by these letters? She’s just as much of an idiot in love as you are.”

For a moment, James didn’t move, didn’t even breathe. And then, like a dam breaking, he laughed — a shaky, unsteady sound that grew louder, freer, until it filled the room.

“What do I do?” James asked, his voice raw and trembling with vulnerability.

Sirius stood, crossing the room to clap a hand on James’s shoulder. “You start by telling her everything. No more hiding. No more pretending. You owe her — and yourself — more than that.”

James nodded slowly, the faintest glimmer of determination flickering in his eyes. “You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” Sirius said, smirking. “I’m always right.”

As James reached for the letters, carefully tucking them back into their box, Sirius watched him with a rare sense of pride. This wasn’t just James Potter, the fearless Quidditch captain, the prankster extraordinaire. This was James Potter, a boy on the cusp of something extraordinary.

And for once, Sirius Black wasn’t just causing chaos — he was helping someone find their way through it.

THE SNOW OUTSIDE FELL IN HEAVY, DELIBERATE FLAKES, BLANKETING THE WORLD IN A SOFT, UNBROKEN QUIET. Sirius stood on the second-floor landing of the Potter home, a mug of hot coffee cradled in his hands. The rich aroma mingled with the faint scent of pine and cinnamon wafting from the decorated tree below. The whole house seemed to hum with a kind of warmth that Sirius rarely allowed himself to imagine, let alone experience.

From his vantage point, he had a perfect view of the living room below. The fire in the hearth crackled gently, casting golden shadows across the walls. Mr. Potter sat on the sofa with an arm draped around Mrs. Potter, the two of them cocooned under a soft plaid blanket. A book rested on Fleamont’s lap as he read aloud, his voice low and steady. Euphemia’s head rested against his shoulder, her eyes half-closed in serene contentment. Every so often, she’d smile at something he read or reach up to adjust her husband’s glasses, her touch so light and familiar it made Sirius’s chest ache with longing — not jealousy, but something softer. A wistfulness for this kind of unshakable bond.

But his gaze didn’t linger on the Potters for long. It drifted to the corner of the room, where the Christmas tree’s twinkling lights bathed two figures in a kaleidoscope of warm colors. You and James sat on the floor amidst the chaos of torn wrapping paper and open boxes. The morning’s gifts had already been exchanged, but it seemed James had saved something special for last.

Even from here, Sirius could see the faint nervousness in his best friend’s posture. James wasn’t one to fidget, yet his hands moved restlessly, smoothing invisible creases on his trousers, brushing imaginary dust from the tree skirt. His eyes, though, were unwavering as they watched you. You were cross-legged on the fluffy white rug, your hair falling in soft waves over your shoulder as you picked idly at a ribbon. Sirius noticed how your gaze lingered on James, curious and full of quiet affection.

James leaned closer, his voice low but carrying an unmistakable lilt of mischief. “One of the owls was late,” he said, holding up a slightly weathered envelope. The parchment looked a little worse for wear, its edges crumpled as if it had been handled too often. “It dropped this off this morning… asked me to give it to the most beautiful girl in the world.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you reached for the envelope. “Still using that line, are you, Potter?”

“Can you blame me? It’s worked wonders so far.” His grin was cocky, but Sirius saw the faintest flicker of uncertainty in his eyes as he handed it over.

You rolled your eyes, but the way you bit your lip betrayed your own anticipation. Turning the envelope over in your hands, you ran your fingers along the black-inked scrawl of your name before carefully breaking the seal. Sirius leaned forward slightly, his coffee forgotten as he watched the scene unfold.

The moment the letter emerged, the air seemed to shift. Your eyes darted across the page, your expression softening with each word. Sirius could see the precise moment the meaning settled in — the way your lips parted in surprise, the way your shoulders tensed, then relaxed, as if letting the weight of something long unspoken sink in. James’s hand rested on your knee, his thumb moving in small, nervous circles.

“Love?” James’s voice was barely above a whisper, his usual bravado stripped away. He was watching you as though the world rested on your reaction, his fingers tightening ever so slightly around yours. “You’re awfully quiet. Should I be worried? Say something. Anything.”

You didn’t answer immediately. Your eyes stayed fixed on the page, even as a tear slipped down your cheek, catching the light like a tiny diamond. James froze, his face paling slightly.

“Hey, hey, no…” His voice cracked. “Don’t cry. If it’s rubbish, just say so and we can forget it. Burn it, even.” He laughed nervously, though it sounded forced. “I’ll… I’ll pretend it never happened.”

That’s when you looked up, meeting his gaze with eyes so full of emotion it made Sirius’s breath hitch even from across the room. You didn’t say anything. Instead, you reached out, cupping James’s face in your hands. He stilled under your touch, his wide-eyed surprise melting into something softer as you leaned in and pressed your lips to his.

It wasn’t the kind of kiss Sirius might have teased him about — not fiery or impulsive. It was quiet, deliberate, and full of a tenderness that made Sirius feel like an intruder, even though he couldn’t look away. James’s hands found your waist, pulling you closer as though you might slip away if he let go.

Sirius smiled to himself, feeling a rare swell of pride. James had always been the heart of their little group, the one who wore his feelings openly. And now, here he was, finding a kind of love that Sirius knew would anchor him forever.

A sharp click shattered the moment, and both of you turned your heads to find Sirius standing at the bottom of the stairs, a wide grin plastered across his face as he waved a freshly developed photo in the air.

“Perfect!” he announced, shaking the picture. “This one’s going in the family album. And when my godchildren ask how their parents got together, I’ll tell them Uncle Sirius orchestrated the whole thing.”

You laughed, leaning your forehead against James’s shoulder, while James groaned, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward. “You’re a menace, Pads,” he said, though his voice held no bite.

“A charming menace,” Sirius replied, retreating toward the couch where the elder Potters were watching the scene unfold with amused smiles.

“Everything alright, dear?” Euphemia asked, her eyes twinkling with affection as she glanced between you and James.

James nodded, his hand still firmly clasping yours. “Yeah, Mum. Everything’s perfect.”

Mrs. Potter’s smile widened, and she reached over to pat your hand. “Welcome to the family, my dear. Though, truth be told, you’ve always been part of it.”

“Thank you,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion.

THE REST OF THE DAY PASSED IN A GOLDEN HAZE OF LAUGHTER AND WARMTH. Euphemia roped you into helping her in the kitchen, insisting you learn the secret to her mulled wine. Sirius watched from the doorway, sipping his coffee and grinning as you tried to follow her directions, only for James to sneak in and steal a taste from the pot, earning himself a playful swat on the arm.

By evening, the fire burned low, and the snow outside had blanketed the world in an even deeper hush. Sirius sat in his favorite armchair, a blanket draped over his legs as he watched the scene before him. You and James were curled up together on the rug, a cozy tangle of limbs as you whispered to each other, your laughter soft and unguarded. The Potters sat nearby, sharing quiet conversation, their hands intertwined.

For a moment, Sirius closed his eyes, letting the warmth of the room and the sounds of contentment wash over him. He thought of his own childhood Christmases — cold, sterile affairs devoid of joy. And then he thought of this… the home James had built, not just for himself but for everyone he cared about. It was the kind of love Sirius had always believed was out of reach. Until now.

“Merry Christmas, Prongs,” he murmured, raising his empty mug in a toast to his best friend.

James glanced up, catching his eye. “Merry Christmas, Pads,” he replied, his grin soft but unmistakably James.

James had turned to you, his hand cradling your cheek as he pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. You smiled up at him, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his arm.

"Merry Christmas, love," James murmured, his voice low and filled with a tenderness that made Sirius’s chest tighten.

"Merry Christmas, Jamie," you replied, resting your forehead against his.

Sirius chuckled, settling back into his chair, the warmth of the moment settling deep in his bones. The world outside might be cold and uncertain, but here, in this house, surrounded by love and laughter, everything felt exactly as it should be.

He thought about how James Potter had once given him the home and warmth he never had. And now, it seemed, Sirius Black had helped his best friend find his way home, too.

FROM THE ARCHIVE OF SIRIUS BLACK:

To my future, undoubtedly brilliant, devilishly handsome, and wildly talented nephews,

Listen up, you little rascals. You don’t know me yet, but let me make one thing very clear: I’m the reason you even exist. That’s right, your ridiculously perfect Uncle Sirius is the mastermind behind it all. Without my charm, wit, and expert meddling, your parents might still be doing the whole "will-they-won't-they" nonsense.

So, when you’re out there ruling the world, remember to thank yours truly. The coolest, suavest, and most humble uncle you'll ever have — Sirius Black. You're welcome.

December 25, 1976 My Love, It’s Christmas, and the house is quiet now, the soft hum of the tree lights the only sound. I’ve been sitting here for hours, staring at this parchment, trying to find words big enough for what I feel, but they don’t exist. Still, I need to try. Love, I see it now—what I’ve been too blind to see all along. I’ve always thought of myself as brave, fearless even. But when it came to you, I was a coward. I didn’t want to risk losing you. You, who have been the brightest part of my life since the moment we met. You, who’ve filled every corner of my world with warmth and light, even when we were miles apart. Every summer, when you stepped into my life again, it was like the sun breaking through a storm. You’d sit by the lake with that book you never quite finished because I was always distracting you. You’d laugh at my terrible jokes, your nose crinkling just so. And you’d hum when you thought no one was listening, always off-key but somehow more perfect than any melody I’ve ever heard. I thought I was looking for the kind of love my parents have — their unshakable bond, the way they look at each other like the world begins and ends with them. And all this time, it was right here, under my nose. You were under my nose. I think I was afraid, love. Afraid that if I let myself feel what’s always been there, I’d ruin us. That I’d lose the only person who’s ever truly known me, the only one who can look past the pranks, the bravado, and see me—the real me. But Sirius, being Sirius, knocked some sense into me. He said I’ve been acting like a fool, and for once, he’s right. Rereading our letters with him was like seeing my life laid out before me, and every line, every word pointed to you. Even when you were far away, you were my everything. The letters you sent were more than ink on parchment; they were lifelines. When Hogwarts felt too big, too chaotic, you were the quiet in the storm. When I felt lost, you reminded me who I am. Do you know how many times I reread your words, just to feel close to you? I kept your letters in my trunk, hidden from the others like a secret treasure. Because that’s what you’ve always been — my treasure. How could I have been so blind? How could I have wasted so much time thinking it was Lily I wanted when it’s always been you? I’ve spent so long chasing a dream when the real thing was right in front of me. I see it now, clearer than I’ve ever seen anything. You are my stars, my moon, my sun. You’re the laugh that makes everything brighter, the voice that feels like home.

I love you. I love the way your handwriting gets messier when you’re excited. I love the way you argue with me over the silliest things just to see me smile. I love the way you hum when you’re nervous and how you always know exactly what to say to pull me out of my worst days. I love you. I don’t know if you feel the same way, but I hope with everything in me that you do. And if you don’t, I’ll understand. Because having you in my life, even just as my friend, has been the greatest gift I could ever ask for. But if there’s even the smallest chance you might love me too, then I promise to spend the rest of my life proving I deserve you. Merry Christmas, my love. You’ve been my greatest gift every day since I met you. Forever yours, Jamie

thankx for reading <3

god, this is my biggest work and I was so afraid to publish it, cause it seems to me that no one reads such long fics (I myself adore long fics).

and if you've finished reading this, thank u and I love you so much! I hope you enjoyed every part of it and I will be very glad if you leave a comment, because it seems to me that I have left all of myself in this work!

you can always share your opinion in comments or my inbox. btw my requests are open so… make a wish :3

– your santi 🪐

masterlist

#– santi 🪐#james potter fluff #james potter fic #james potter x reader #james potter #james potter x you #james potter imagine #james potter x y/n #james potter fanfiction #bsf!james potter #james potter x fem!reader

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littlemisssilvermoon · 1 day ago

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what if there was a yandere batfam x villain!mom!reader. More specifically, I'm thinking of this (Fem reader);

Reader is a (technically) small threat. They're well known, but they mostly go after the rich and police. Unfortunately, that describes everyone in/closely involved with the Batfamily. Attempts at capture are futile, however, since they seem to rival Bruce in contingency plans.

Eventually, Jason steps up to bat and tries to catch them. However, there's one thing that Jason picked up from Bruce; his type is crime.

You and Jason have Batman-and-Catwoman-esque chases throughout Gotham, Jason blaming your escape on you being too crafty while denying any help. You see Jason's scars and admit that you have a pretty bad one on your side, eventually showing it to him when you feel comfortable taking your clothes off. Jason has had to hide more hickeys, bite marks, and scratches on his back than anyone would hazard to guess.

One day, however, you disappear. The Batfam is relieved that you've finally stopped your reign of terror over Gotham, but Jason is worried.

The Batfam all go out for ice cream a few months later for something unrelated, when Jason catches sight of something familiar.

A scar winding up someone's side. A scar he's seen before. A scar that's stretched due to a bump.

Dick walks into his back when Jason freezes. Judging by the size, you've been pregnant for about as long as you've been off of the streets. So that's where you've been...

Why didn't you tell him? Did you think he didn't love you enough? Did he not show you enough times that he loved you? Did you think that it wouldn't work because he was working with Batman? He wasn't that close with him! He'd help you find a nice apartment in Crime Alley, or, hell, you could move in with him! He wasn't sure how good of a dad he'd be, but he'd try! Isn't that what parenting is about?

Oh god, he hasn't been around for so much of your pregnancy already. He needs to talk to you!

"...Jason. Earth to Jason Todd? Hello?" Dick says, waving his hand through the thoughts swirling in front of his eyes. Jason starts slightly as he remembers where he was. Damian begins walking towards you. Or rather, the ice cream store you were in front of.

While you were out of earshot, he saw as you looked at Damian. You smiled, probably asking where his parents are, because he gestured behind him. He watched as your smile fell into shock as your eyes landed on him, hand instinctively going to your stomach before you glanced at a nearby alleyway before looking back at him.

He took the hint. Now you're facing each other, unasked and uncountable questions floating between the both of you. Jason, however, asked the worst question possible in that moment.

"Is it mine?"

The slap was warranted, honestly.

The next few questions come more easily. You're around 24 weeks along, you've been living alone for the most part, you've obviously taken time off to avoid any injuries/toxic exposure to the baby, etc. Eventually, he asks why you never told him, and the reason was twofold. On one hand, telling him would've required doing some sort of crime for the batfamily to follow and him being the one that caught you, which you had known was debateable since he mentioned how Bruce and the Robins offered to tag along. On the other, the chance of everything crashing and burning because of this was too great. You were too willing to accept that it was truly just like what Batman and Catwoman had, something fun and fleeting but nothing deeper than that. You weren't going to risk your child because you felt loved.

Jason takes your hands and tells you his full legal name. At first you're confused, but he tells you more. He tells you how long he's been a vigilante, where he lives, even the code to his apartment. He doesn't see any of this as fleeting. This, to him, was a relationship that just needed a full push to become a "proper" one.

He places his hands and yours on your stomach.

"My name is Jason Peter Todd, I'm the vigilante Red Hood, son of Bruce Wayne, and... I'm gonna be a dad if you'll let me."

You smile and hug him, unable to talk around the lump in your throat.

"Jason...? What the fuck are you doing?" says Dick.

He turns around and realizes that the entire batfamily had heard him.

"So, she's pregnant with your child?" Damian glances around, trying to get another look at your belly.

"Of everyone I thought would get a villain pregnant... you weren't high on that list." Barbara chimes in.

"I'm gonna be a grandfather?" Bruce asks

---

So yeah, gist of it is that Jason gets Reader pregnant, Reader gets some information that Batman uses to justify keeping you in the manor, along with the half truth of "keeping appearances", since the tabloids would eat you alive if they caught evidence of a member of the Wayne family being a deadbeat dad, and over time, the family becomes more and more suffocating until your baby is born, in which they somehow make themselves a nuisance in child rearing.

Asks are welcome!

#yandere batfam #yandere jason todd x reader #yandere #yandere batfam x reader #yandere dc

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rensukepie · 2 days ago

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*ೃ༄ “i wanna ride!” (ride!)

┈─ ੈ✩‧₊˚ o. a

contains : face riding, aiku teases you with his stubble :;(, aiku’s nose hits your clit ^—^, cunnilingus :3, very shy reader, established relationship, pet names (doll, angel).

who is he to say no to his pretty girl when she wants to ride his face?

a/n : inspired by @aikuposer ‘s comment about his nose…

mdni (minors do NOT interact!!)

nsfw under the cut

“you’re very, very shy.” something that was said by multiple people, even aiku said it himself. you can’t really say your thoughts out loud to him, hell—you can’t say your thoughts out loud to anybody! you can’t say them without this flush coming to your face, sounds of your stutters flying out of your mouth.

“how can you not say your thoughts out loud? i’d talk and talk everyday if i had a boyfriend…” your friend said, lips going into a pout as she talks about not having a boyfriend.

“you know… you should reallyyy tell aiku about your thoughts.. especially about that one thing..” she smiles, bursting out laughing when she thinks about it.

gosh, you regret telling your friend about that now.

aiku had a bigger nose, and he’s just so, so handsome! you can’t really believe he’s your boyfriend sometimes, you wanna try something new with him in bed though, you’ve been thinking about it allll week already! the thought of his nose hitting your clit as you ride his face, his tongue licking at your cunt.

if only you weren’t so scared of talking about your feelings.

you knew that if you weren’t so scared, maybe you’d be more comfortable about talking about your desires for him, your needs for him.

“yeah, but what if he thinks it’s weird, what if i get dumped right there—“ you say worriedly before getting cut off.

“i can absolutely guarantee you he won’t find you weird…. c’mon! tell him tonight when he comes home from his soccer game or something!” your friend says in a convincing tone that always ends up working.

“okay.. i”lll try… but if it doesn’t go well, i’m blaming you.”

“and if it does go well, you better tell me everything!” your friend shouts, teasing you even more about your boyfriend before you head back home.

┈─ ੈ✩

you’re at home now, waiting for aiku to come home from his soccer game, cooking a quick meal before you head his key jingling from outside.

“hi aiku!” you say excitedly, turning off the stove before hugging him, the familiar scent of his cologne.“missed you so much…” you whine, your voice sweet like honey.

gosh—he loves when you get clingy like this! you’re so sweet to him, so good to him.

“missed you too, sweet girl…” he says, giving you a peck before heading to the shared room between the two of you.

┈─ ੈ✩

“aiku… wanna tell you something… just really quick! ‘s been on my mind all week..” you softly say, really hoping that he can’t hear the fast beating of your heart as he scrolls away watching those silly baby chick videos he always loved.

“hm? go ahead, pretty… i’ll listen to you.” he faces your face, burning red from what you’re about to say to him.

“i wanna try something new in bed…” you say, your face into his neck, a quiet tone when you speak to him.

“oh? what did you have in mind, angel?”

“i wanna ride your face… your nose would be hitting my clit… m’sorry if it’s weird aiku i—“

“oh fuck…” he groans, his cock hardening at your words. “well, who am i to deny my pretty girl for asking so nicely, right?”

┈─ ੈ✩

“a—aiku… ohh… mmf—!♡” you whimper softly, your clit hitting his nose as you grind your hips back and fourth. if you weren’t so shy, you would’ve done this before!

“hm? feels good, right? don’t gotta be so shy now, angel…” he murmurs softly, his hands wandering to both your hips and ass.

you can’t even hear what he’s even saying to you, but his voice is vibrating into your cunt with his little groans about how good you taste and it just feels so, so good to you! you bet he’s doing it just to tease you.

“y-you’re doing that on purpose—hah..! mmf—..” you moan again, but get caught off guard when you feel his stubble on your clit, the texture of it adding even more pleasure. “aiku—! f-feels s’good…mmf..—you’re teasing me..—♡”

he continues to tease you, his tongue going a bit faster at your cunt, your hip movements getting more lazy as the pleasure catches up to your body, the weird sensation on your clit.

“gonna give up on me now, doll? we’ve only just started…” he groans, the feeling of his lips smirking on your very soaked cunt.

“c—can’t take anymo— aiku! m’gonna cum! pleasepleaseplease—… mmf!…♡”

┈─ ੈ✩

“t-thank you aiku… s’good…. missed you, by the way..” you whisper as you wrap your arms around him on the bed, your fucked out state showing off. the one that aiku always saw when he made you feel good.

what a good boyfriend he is to take care of your needs.

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agentpeggycarterrogers · 2 days ago

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Peggy loved hearing little hints of things he’d done. She knew he couldn’t tell her everything, and she accepted that, but it was still nice when he offered her little stories, moments in time. Her heart melted. She reached up and stroked his cheek, a simple gesture, but one to show him she was here, she heard him, she understood and felt that pain when they were apart, and that she would support him no matter what.

“Of course I loved you. I would’ve married you with or without your serum. I would’ve loved you - all of you. I love your heart and your soul, not just what you look like on the outside. I’m grateful for your serum, because it made you strong and healthy. All those health problems on your form would have affected your quality of life and now we don’t have to worry.”

She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “There was no moving on without you. I tried. But I loved you so much. I’m sure you’re my family, and the children we’ll have. That’s who you saw. I’m so certain of it. My life is with you, we’re meant to be like this.”

She nodded. “You don’t need your compass to guide you, Steve. I’m with you. You have me right here. We can guide each other.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. “It hurt to be without you, Steve,” she whispered, “but now we have each other and we know how miraculous and special this is. I’ll always love you and I’ll always be grateful we were allowed this chance.”

@steven-g-rogers

Steve chuckled softly and gave her hand a squeeze. “I know, honey,” he said. “That was what gave me the kick to come back to you.” He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t told her this yet. He stopped and turned to her. “In the future - when we developed this time travel technology - we needed to travel back in time to get some things. And part of that brought me to your workplace. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I had to duck into a room to hide from someone and the room I’d ducked into was your office. And right there, sitting on the table, was a photo of me back before the serum.”

He took a breath and shook his head. “I’d been living there knowing I’d missed my chance of a life with you and knowing you’d moved on and had a family without me. It hurt me, but I was glad you’d had your life. Then, I go back and I see that photo and the idea gets to me. You haven’t moved on. Not fully. And I hadn’t moved on. And I had time travel now. And not just that, but it really hammered something home. You loved me. It wasn’t a photo of Cap on your desk. It was me. The skinny piece of chewed up gum I used to be and who I still am in my core. So I took the shot.”

He fished into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out his compass. “But look, Peg,” he said, popping the case open and revealing the photo of her. “You’re always with me, guiding me.”

@agentpeggycarterrogers

#thread: the endgame reunion

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gothicfied · 2 days ago

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Cho Hyun-ju / Player 120 Headcanons

Pairing: Cho Hyun-ju / Player 120 x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death/dying, killing, guns/gunshots (typical squid game stuff), other than that it's just fluff, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

જ⁀➴ Watching Hyun-ju during the six-legged pentathlon, you couldn't help but be amazed. She was a leader, a fighter, someone who didn't and wouldn't give up, that much was sure. It was amazing to see her lead her group to victory, to safety, being the one to push them and encourage them. Everyone cheered, obviously including you, and it truly was an amazing feeling to see them all get away with their lives. You weren't so sure if you'd make it, too.

જ⁀➴ Thankfully, you did. Your group barely scraped by and you just decided that you needed to be on Hyun-ju's team. Hesitantly, you approached Geum-ja, who immediately noticed your small figure and agreed in a heart beat to let you join their little group.

"You were great back there, you know?" You told Hyun-ju with a shy smile while she was sitting on the stairs, originally just observing Yong-sik getting scolded by his mother again. "Hm? Ah.. that was nothing." she replied back, shaking her head when smiling up at you. "I think everyone in here should be like you," you chuckled, "like, actually. We'd all benefit from it."

જ⁀➴ Hyun-ju's heart melted at all the nice words you would say to her, complimenting her braveness and strength. It made her feel more validated in her actions, which was the motivation she really needed in a place like this. Young-mi was equally excited to have you in their group now, having animated conversations with you about the things you had in common — And if she approved of you, Hyun-ju would, too.

જ⁀➴ Whenever you were scared, were having doubts about yourself or just needed someone to talk, Hyun-ju was there. It was almost like she felt it when you felt that way and she'd always listen to you and comfort you. Her hugs were warm and firm, perfectly calming you down after a particularly bad nightmare. In return, you also encouraged her to talk to you if she ever felt the need to, but everytime you suggested that she'd laugh it off. To Hyun-ju, it was enough to know that she brought you comfort, she didn't need anything in return. She did think it was adorable for you to say that.

જ⁀➴ To distract you from all the stress sometimes, she'd ask you about your plans for the future, about your hobbies and jusy about the things that made you, you. Hyun-ju was genuinely interested in getting to know you and was growing very fond of you over a short period of time.

જ⁀➴ After suffering through the third game together, and also a painful loss (rip Young-mi, my queen), everyone was going through it. Instead of everyone keeping it peaceful, they just decided to slaughter each other after lights out. Ever since losing Young-mi, Hyun-ju was very adamant on keeping you by her side at all times. She wouldn't make that mistake again and leave someone she cared about out of her sight.

The lights flicker like crazy above you, screams and the disgusting sound of people getting killed right next to you were the only things you could focus on right now. You were panicking, you were scared, you felt like you were going to cry and throw up. Hyun-ju had grabbed you by your hand and dragged you to the last corner of the dorm area, hiding you between some mattresses other players had set up. She was firmly holding you by your shoulders and telling you something you couldn't make up. Probably that everything will be okay or something. "Hey! Hey, please listen to me," Hyun-ju leaned in close, hugging you against her, "it's all going to be fine. We'll be okay."

જ⁀➴ In fact, you were. Obviously you were. Hyun-ju wouldn't say something she didn't mean — she wouldn't lie to you. She knew that winning someones trust was hard and the fact that you put so much of it into her filled her with pride.

જ⁀➴ Gi-hun had his mind set on a revolution. Anybody who could handle a firearm was supposed to step forward and take one of of the ones they took off the dead guards. You swallowed, locking eyes with Hyun-ju. She'd step forward, they needed her. You gave her a quick nod and a faint smile and she returned it, quickly stepping forward to help the others.

Geum-ja put a hand on your shoulder, claiming that she'll be fine and that she's far too tough to die out there. "They'll be back to get us out of here, don't worry about it." she said, tugging you by your sleeve, beckoning you to come with her.

When Dae-ho stormed in after a while again, hastily collecting the magazines out of the guards pockets, you were relieved, even if he seemed extremely beside himself. He had some sort of panic attack, so you sat him down on one of the beds, trying to reason with him, until Hyun-ju stormed in, making your facs light up. Oh my god, she's alive. She basically ran to Dae-ho, urging for the ammunition and kept asking him what happened.. so, this wasn't going according to plan at all. You assumption was confirmed by all the masked guards that flooded into the dorm area, holding the remaining players at gunpoint.

"Hyun-ju..?" your voice was shaky. Her eyes fell down on you, taking your hand into hers. "It's all going to be fine."

#squid game #squid game fanfic #squid game season 2 #squid games x reader #squid game x reader #squid games #squid game 2 #player 120 #player 120 x reader #hyun ju #hyun ju x reader

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bluem1lls · 22 hours ago

Note

hii!! can u write a se-mi x female guard reader and theyre already lovers even before the game started. when reader realized that se mi is in the game, she secretly protected her. when the reader revealed herself to se mi in the bthroom they kinda argued,,

✧₊⁺ i'm mr. loverman (and i miss my lover)

se-mi x fem!reader

✦ synopsis: you're so in love with your friend with benefits that you'll risk your life to keep her safe, even if it's all to let her go in the end.

content: angst, guard! reader x player! se-mi

authors note: hi!!! tysm for your request, i hope u like it!

⋆｡°✩ her fingers feel so good inside that, combined with her lust-filled face that roams your features, you think you can cry from the sight alone.

"yes, yes, yes, just like that" your head hits the wall with a choked moan once she allows you to finish.

as you're coming down from your haze, she kisses you.

her kisses so rough, that you're used to being out of breath afterwards.

she lays you in bed, gently getting on top.

"you're my pretty girl.. and i'll miss. you. so. much" she says, kissing you after every word.

please, make it never ending.

"why can't i go with you?" you pouted as she shook her head no.

"i need to take this trip by myself. i told you.. i need to solve a few issues before.. we get more serious" she says as she hears your sigh. "i want that baby, i really do."

you nod, a bit hesitant, resting your head on her chest. you can feel heart beating, which pulls a smile from your lips.

"we can have a morning quickie, as a goodbye"

she hums as she kisses your forehead in agreement.

"mmm.. such a nice way to say goodbye." she replies as you chuckle. "but i still need one more round, just.. to make sure i'm leaving you all satisfied"

you smirk, lifting your head as your eyes find eachother. your lips meet hers once again.

"make me" she grins, quickly getting on top, covering the naked bodies with the white sheets.

⋆｡°✩ you place the mask over your face, following 015 to the 'red lights, green lights' room. stepping in, you remove the mask and drop the case on the floor, putting the weapon together.

practicing the aiming, you check the new players. you would judge them but, weren't you just one stupid more?

as you got ready for the game, the doll turned around, letting you hear the little song you knew all too well.

everyone started running, slowing the pace as it screamed red light.

you found an already familiar face guiding the newbies, oh? well he's..huh. player 456. that's actually cool.

you scanned the room as the game kept going, finding a face you had imprinted in your brain.

huh, she's pretty.

she has..

pretty brown eyes, short brown hair, piercings.

huh.

your eyes shut closed, trying to supress the angry scream.

the girl looked just like se-mi!

no wait.

it was fucking se-mi.

"fuck."

pulling your hair, you tried to focus during the game, you can't lose it now.

you tried to keep your shots far away from her, trying to not make her flinch or anything that made her move.

as she got to the finish line, a sigh of relief ran through your body.

you couldn't face her now though, that'd be reckless.

⋆｡°✩ as the night came, you stirred in bed. shivers running through your body as you kept thinking about her.

you slowly got dressed, walking where the players went through to go to the bathroom, you nudge your partner to go.

i mean, you weren't a big thing here, but they respected you as a triangle, at least the newbies (circles).

so as he left, you stood there, checking on her through the small window.

you located her on the bed, asleep. she was all alone and you almost ran in there to sleep with her, but you couldn't.

pressing your lips together, you sighed, hoping everything could end soon.

⋆｡°✩ a new day, the end of a new game. you prayed that she made it, as you couldn't be there present for it.

you stood on the bathroom door, guarding, as you kept thinking.

how could you ask them without being suspicious?

maybe grab a circle and ask, then kill him.

or um.. maybe go down to the bathroom door? like last night and look for her?

no, maybe you could-

no need, because as you kept thinking of ways to find out if she was alive after 'six-legged pentathlon' while taking custody, she stood there in front of you.

"can i go orrr.. you'll shoot me?" she smirked, eyeing me up and down.

you swore, if she kept being a brat, you'll throw the mask and kiss her. a few ways to makeout and have a quickie came to your mind.

you nod at her, your gun pointing to the door as she enters, leaving your sight.

at least the brat was alive. thank god.

⋆｡°✩ as you kept with your nightly ritual, you found yourself in the little hallway where the players walked for the bathroom.

you could see her chuckling, she was sitting down with a few guys, manspreading as always.

your eyes roamed her body, and then her face. she was so attractive.

you wouldn't judge any of the girls here if they fell for her.

judge doesn't mean you wouldn't shoot them though.

⋆｡°✩ a new day, a new game.

mingle.

as you stood there, your eyesight found her. she was scanning the room, walking with the same group you saw her yesterday.

moving aside with gun in hand, you stared as her brown eyes started to show a hint of fear as the platform begin spinning.

she does the first round, the second one.

but on third one, something feels weird as you see her talking with this guy, a frown on her face.

your heart shatters as you see her three partners run to a room without her.

fuck no. she's not gonna die here.

you stare side to side, as the guards are busy, keeping their focus on otherways.

good.

you get close, poking her with the gun as she turns around, surprise all over her face. you could see that she'd given up. that broke your heart even more.

"196 and 133 are missing one. run" you mumble, but she can still hear you.

she stays there frozen as you poke her again. she seems to react this time as she runs with them into a room, although she keeps turning back to stare, trying to find out more about you.

you go back to your position. once mingle ends, you let out a breathing that you didn't even knew you were holding.

⋆｡°✩ you can't sleep that night, knowing she's there, probably staring at the ceiling thinking about what happened today, just like you.

you miss her so much you feel like you're about to leave everything to go and help her.

because you would. you'd drop everything for her.

⋆｡°✩ light's out was next. you knew that.

you can never be too careful, right?

as you run downstairs, placing the mask on your face, you find another guard with the triangle instead of circle, like you're used to.

fuck.

"039, what are you-" you cut him abruptly, choking him with your arm.

once his body goes limp, you hide it behind the door.

you start looking for her, she's not in her bed.

a bad feeling running through your veins.

fuck it. it's worth it for her.

as you hide your gun, you enter the common room. the light's are flashing, making it worse to locate her. everyone is in such a rush, they don't even see you. if they did, they're too busy being stabbed to death.

where is she?? WHERE the fuck is she????

you look near her bed, she's not there. you stare behind, the sides. she's. not. there.

fuckk.

you find her friend...min su? on top of a bed, quickly, you run to him. once you're close enough, you could hear a whimper.

no. please. not her.

"se-mi?" you scream with fear, voice almost trembling. "se-mi!?"

your eyes find her cornered against the wall. she already has a wound close to her neck.

what's it gonna be? your life of her's?

there's no doubt.

you aim and shoot. his body falls on top of her as she gasps. her gaze finds yours.

she throws his body to the ground, running to your side.

"who the fuck are you?" she tries to pull the mask as you stop her, holding her wrist.

"not here. bathroom"

she follows you to the bathroom, her body shivers.

"are you cold?"

"no. just.. had a very close death experience" she replies coldly.

there's nothing left to say other than pressing your lips while nodding.

once you get there, you step in first, checking to see if it's empty. you sign her to follow you as she enters, closing the door behind her.

she swiftly pushes you against the wall, holding a shard of broken glass to your throat. "who. the fuck. are you?"

"if you let me, i'll show you" she hesitates but backs up. you remove the mask and everything that covers your face and hair.

her mouth opens in shock. please, not this.

"you're fucking kidding me right? is this some kind of sick joke?" she says, staring wide eyed. "you were the one who helped me today and..oh my god. this entire time it was you"

as you try to get closer, she slaps your hand, rejecting you.

"se-mi, please"

"i can't believe you accepted this. do you have fun killing people? what if- what if you had to kill me?" anger slips through her words.

"i-i dont, se-mi" your eyes close, a few tears threaten to spill. "you lied to me too.. there was never a trip-"

"it's different! i came here to fucking end my debts to have our happy ending! you're just here for pleasure!

"it's not pleasure se-mi. i get fucking paid for this too, i need the money as much as you do" your voice elevates.

tears roll down your cheeks. it's useless.

"can we talk better outside?" you hiccup. "may-maybe when this is done we can get back home and-"

she dry chuckles, shooking her head no.

"you're fucking insane if you think there's an 'us' outside after this"

oh.

she must've seen your fat tears rolling down your cheeks because she attempts to comfort you, the habit being stronger than her. she closed her fist before any move, trying to control herself.

"right." you try to move but all you could do was try to breathe. if you didn't left this place in 2 minutes, you'll have a breakdown.

her gaze filled with anger, starts to disappear once she sees your teary eyes.

"fuck. im- i didn't meant- i" she stutters as her hands cover her face. "i fucked up, i didn't mean to say that-"

its too late, because you start placing all to cover yourself once again. she grabs your arm to stop you as you remove her grip.

"princess, i'm- exhausted and i'm confused and i'm fucking pissed i had you here all along, and my fucking 'friend' tried to kill me and he died in front of me because my girlfriend is the guard at this fucked up place and-" she pulls her hair as she takes a deep breath, clearly stressed.

she closes her eyes, this must be a fucked up nightmare, she thinks.

"baby- i'm sorry."

"you're not the only one who's been having it hard sem. you think this is a birthday party? you get paid to murder your own partners too. you killed them everytime you hit the circle. i need this too. the money- it goes all to my parents se-mi. i don't kill for fun. you need the money to pay your debts and i need the money to keep my parents alive." a sob escapes from your mouth as she looks at you, regret takes over her.

"but i'm fucking glad you lived though. as i'm also glad you lived in 'green light, red light' when i tried to avoid shooting near you to stop you from flinching. as i'm glad i kept you alive, even if i had to stay all night on the door to look after you while you slept after the games. as i'm glad i fucking saved you, while your friends left you to die."

you grab the mask, turning around as her mouth agapes like a fish, trying to find some words to say.

she has none. she knows you're right. or maybe you're both morally gray. you're as fucked up as she is.

and maybe now, she realizes it would've been better if there were no lies from the beggining.

"baby.." she murmurs as you start to head out the door, walking away.

"take care se-mi. i- i did everything i could. i had to pick between your life and mine. and i chose you. there's a big chance they'll kill me if they see the tapes, but at least you get out of here alive." you said, placing the mask again to cover your face.

and you leave. and she lets you leave.

and she cries against the wall until there are no more tears left to cry.

maybe she lost the game, but most importantly, she lost her lover.

and now, there's not a home to come back to, because you won't be there when she does.

#player 380 #player 380 x reader #se mi #se mi x reader #se-mi #se-mi x reader #lesbian #squid game #squid game 2 #wlw

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lifenconcepts · 2 days ago

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1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

Hm. Just the umbrella term I prefer but perhaps otherkin in the sense of being some strange conceptkin and Divinekin who calls themselves angelkin over being this sensation of life and fate and existence as a whole.. I’m like- life. Just life. Life-kin, can I just say I’m me? I’m everything. Aaaaughehejjd also wolf therian. Beat me over that but also sometimes caninekin and like .. feeling like dogs depending on whatever mood I’m in and copinglink of a borzoi 💯

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? sort of answered it in the above but I love lists. From highest relation to least (I vary quite often, and mostly am okay with being human except for a few rare instances and exceptions): Life and existence as a whole, wolf, a mutt/random canine, and.. some muskrat 😿 I love them but how the hell am I litterally a muskrat- OH AND I HAVE HUMAN PAST LIVES but I’m still confused over them. Like, some random guy with a car who loves the nighttime and was treated like shit, uhh.. about 80s/90s and in his 20s- maybe USA or UK, also USSR but not sure if it’s the same guy. Also a butler or someone of the sorts in another, just having a bunch of various strange jobs (or maybe it’s who I want to be.. idk I always struggle with knowing what’s my subconscious or what’s my soul)

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

Hm. Mostly mental shifts or something and the vague feeling of being a wolf but have had tail, ear, paw, and full body shifts. Also wings but they’re like random and in no way related to any identity.

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

Hm. I forget. Aha forgot- auh just being more understanding to those also like me and more connected to nature on an animalistic level and validating myself in my unusual-ness? Also sometimes craving the simple regressive state of being incoherent but understood, of being one with sensations and instincts but perceived by humans.. hehejdkjdhdhd

5/ What do you think of the community?

very nice! Also very sweet! Understanding of plenty, especially tumblr, but others may be more misinformed and rude elsewhere.. anyways just very sweet, good movement if I can call it that, it’s gained popularity definefely and for the better.

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

watching documentaries on canines, documentaries on ussr (don’t ask), forests and nature as an absolute whole (especially woodlands), and dog training videos. Fascinates me. Also being seen as a wolf. I used to go around telling people to call me Wolfy as a kid.

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

nope! Not really, and I find that great :)

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

trust your instinct and this vague feeling of feeling ‘right’ rather than any set of rules or expectations.

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

eueuhsgghhwcomplex question. Next! Aha kidding but like.. I want metal claws, and pretty metal gloves over my hand. Whatever that is. Hm perhaps also a wolf mask? Mm.. I don’t really like gear though, too ‘out there’ for me. I got a tail and paws and ears tho, but REALLY want wings— also kinda fucked up I don’t glow. Would drink glow sticks to glow- aha kidding.. unless-

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

mine specifically? .. evolved from thinking wolves are mad cool then seemingly wanting to be a werewolf then really thinking I could become one (with my varying degrees of wolfness and humanness) then finding splice with being seen as a canine or with one, and turned quickly to ‘yeah I’m a person but being a dog or wolf would be so damn cool’ and searching immensely on caves near me with the idea I would go exploring and find a genie and wish to be a shapeshifter and then live in the forest and convince others I was human then in the privacy of my own presence embrace my instincts and dreams of being a canine and now it’s just. Confusion mixed in with ‘was I faking it??’ feeling and some sense of ‘but i like being human’ even with that same nagging feeling of sometimes just needing to be a dog for a bit to feel content in my skin and maybe it’s something leftover with my soul’s past life that I’ve gotten over or now transformed from being a childhood dream to merely related to the emotional state of freedom and being understood even with my strange behaviours and appearance that likely had been formed through having a nagging sense of not being understood enough even with being genuinely spoilt but trying to convince myself that nobody cared so I could excuse myself if I ever turned to drugs but then just finding ways to love and understand myself and finally realising that I am loved but sometimes my thoughts just aren’t understood because others have different views and then vowing to do my best to understand others and especially folklore creatures even after I- oh, have I went off script a tiny bit? Im wolf enough.

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈

oh I’m an addict for answering this, thank you so much for tagging me! But.. I don’t know who to tag.. anyone who sees this! Perhaps @canines-crown ??

If you are a alterhuman, reblog and answer these questions!

(don't be afraid to write a lot, do what you want ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

5/ What do you think of the community?

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈

#My eepy ramblings #divine illumination #alterhuman #angelkin #divinekin #conceptkin #wolfkin #dog therian #wolf therian #canine therian #wolf theriotype #canine theriotype #therian things #caninekin #theriotype #therianthropy #therian community #my experiences

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back2bluesidex · 2 days ago

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To Be Popular - JJK [Chapter 1]

Pairing: Social Media Influencer! Jungkook X Marketing Manager! Reader ft. Yoongi

Summary:

You love everything about social media - apart from the ever-growing number of social media influencers. You don't understand how these people gain followers and admirers just by installing a camera and doing very basic things in front of it. And you despise how some of them can do anything to gain fame, to be popular - even if it includes uploading their bedroom scene in pornsites aka people like Jeon Jungkook. But when your company launches a new product and your department head tasks you with signing Jeon Jungkook up as an endorsement partner - you have no choice but to chase him like the corporate slave that you are. However, things turn worse when you embroil in a dating rumor with him and have to keep the game going for the sake of everything. is it really for the worse or things will turn in a way you never expected it to?

Theme: Strangers to lovers au, fake dating au, kind of enemies to lover au, angst, smut, fluff.

Full Series Word Count: 26k

Chapter word count: 5.8k+

Warnings: tiny flirting, argument, that's all.

Masterlist | Patreon (For access to the complete series)

Taglist requests are open.

Minors, I am not responsible for what you consume online. So, act more rationally and stay away.

Chapter index: -

Or read the full series right away on Patreon!!

Thanks to the every possible gods out there, you are capable of keeping your poker face even when your insides are burning with rage.

Like right now.

First of all you landed in a proposition with one of the people you don’t even like, that too, with the most insufferable one in question.

Secondly, your superiors are treating him as if he has won a gold medal or something.

Min Yoongi - the man who is known for his nonchalance and quiet wisdom, can’t seemingly stop giving his gummy smile to this guy, Jeon Jungkook.

Mrs. Lee, who is probably double the age of the guy, is ogling him as if it's a zombie apocalypse and she hasn’t seen another male for thirty years or so.

When they both turn to you, you realize they are probably waiting for you to react the same way as them.

Too bad, you are not even the least bit amused.

After greeting both of the superiors, Jeon Jungkook looks at you - with those big ass googly eyes. A kind smile plays on his lips.

He extends his hand with a soft “nice to meet you.”

Well. definitely not the same. You scream internally but you compose yourself and return his smile, somewhat half-assed, as you wrap your small hand around his big veiny ones (the same hand that does those dirty deeds with others of his stature).

“Nice to meet you too.” you murmur only because Yoongi is giving you those eyes you absolutely love and hate at the same time.

Yoongi gestures to Jungkook to take the seat, “So, Mr. Jeon. I assume you have gone through our proposal already?”

“Umm.. yeah. My manager did go through your proposal and briefed me.” Jeon Jungkook says with a voice that doesn’t match that gruff, breathy one from the video.

Why the fuck do I keep thinking of the video? You inhale a long breath.

“Okay so.. Is there any question in your mind? Or do you want me to go through it all once again?” Yoongi adds good naturedly.

“Umm no actually. I came here to decline your offer.” Jungkook drops the bomb. If you are low-key happy then you don’t let it show on your face.

“W-what? Why? Is there any part of the offer that is not up to your liking? We can revise it anytime you want.” Mrs. Lee butts in.

“Uh. no not that. I personally don’t like to use the devices that your company manufactures. All of your laptops are so bulky, the chassis is always too old-fashioned. It’s not something Jeon Jungkook would use, you know what I mean?” Jungkook reasons smugly, as he leans on the backrest of his chair and crosses his legs.

You hear blood rushing to your brain and before any of your superiors can say anything you start speaking, “oh really? Must be tough to carry our laptops to a pornset or something, huh?”

You see Jungkook’s eyes going comically wide as he tries to register what you have just said.

“What? What are you talking about?” he semi-screams. His attention is now trained only and only on you.

“You know very well what I am talking about, Mr. Jeon.” you lean on the table just as smugly. Under the table Yoongi kicks on your shin but you dodge his attack at the right time.

Jungkook laughs. A big, thunderous laugh, “I don’t see it being any of your business to question what I do in my free time, is it?”

You smirk. If he thought you are going to back off that easily, he was wrong, “it definitely is not. But the fact that we chose to offer you this endorsement deal despite your current public reputation, tells a lot about our dedication towards charity.”

“Oh.. so this is a charity huh?” Jungkook narrows his eyes at you, “sorry to tell you but Jeon Jungkook doesn’t need any charity.”

With that Jungkook stands up and gales at you for one last time before he storms out of the room.

Yoongi slams his head directly on the table making you wince at the loud thud.

“Y/N! What do you think you did?” Mrs. Lee screams in horror.

“What?” you shrug in nonchalance, “he was going to say no anyway.”

“Y/N” Yoongi finally says, probably after struggling not to punch himself in the face for inviting you to the meeting, “we could have negotiated if you chose to stay silent.”

“But I only said what’s true. This collaboration could have saved his face. He was the one who chose to be an ass- I mean, inconsiderate.” you argue.

“Oh really? Then why don’t you show him what’s right?” Yoongi says in a sugary voice, one that’s not really good news.

“What do you mean?” you question, suspicion landing on your brain.

“You need to bring him back if you love the year-end appraisal or you can kiss your promotion goodbye.” he says in a collected voice.

“What? Yoongi! You can’t do this!” you stand from your seat, and Yoongi only smirks at you.

“Oh I definitely can. I can also submit a formal complaint against you calming that you have messed up an important deal. Do you want that?”

You stay silent, questioning your life choices, your career choices. Cursing at the every god above for making you a human when you could have been a worm.

No job, no money issues, no Min Yoongi, no Jeon Jungkook - only soil and dirt.

You sit on the chair again, cover your face with both of your hands and curse “fuck everyone”.

Your eyes zero on your phone this time. The insta handle is burning too bright for the darkness of your room. Honestly, tapping the name is currently hurting your pride.

But what can you even do - you are a corporate slave after all. And the crush you have on your direct superior, prevents you from being rebellious.

But more than just that - you know you were wrong.

Your hate towards the social media influencers clan is pretty much ridiculous and apparently has no reason.

Is it due to your underlying insecurity? Is it because you believe you are inferior to them? While they make hundreds of dollars per hour, you make a dime?

You probably hate Jeon Jungkook because he is the same age of yours and yet has everything you don’t? - like an amazing sex life.

As you tap on the story, it takes you into a video with all colors of gleaming lights. Clearly a club. Loud music blares through your phone speaker, almost paralyzing your ears.

You can’t see Jeon Jungkook on the screen, obviously because he is the one recording the video. But you can hear him whooing in the background. There are some girls around him for obvious reasons.

Suddenly you feel jealous of him again.

He is of your age and he is enjoying a night out at a posh club while you are on your bed, with your ugly pajamas on and you can’t go out because you have work tomorrow.

As soon as the word “work” registers in your mind, you remember you have been tasked with bringing Jungkook back.

You look at the screen again. He has added the location, which means you can find the club, find him and apologize (oh god no!) and beg him for another meeting.

Yes. That's a nice plan. You can then mourn for your dead self-respect with a bucket full of ice-cream.

You have picked the shortest possible dress you own.

It’s a shimmery black bodycon that reaches your mid-thigh. The noodle strap of the bodycon dress gives a tempting view of your collar-bone and cleavage.

You have let your hair lose - you look the best like this. A touch of makeup and you are all ready.

You know you are attractive but will that be enough for the bouncers to let you inside that posh club? You pray it’s enough.

When the taxi drops you in front of the well-known club in Gangnam, you spot the line. And thankfully, the queue is not at all terrible.

Since the clock hasn’t hit 10:00 pm yet, the entry is free.

When you reach in front of the bouncers, they give you a once-over, then look at each other. Your hands feel clammy because they have rejected almost everyone before you. If you are not wrong then only two of the visitors were let in.

But then one of them brought the stamp out and held it in front of your face. You gave him your wrist with a squeal of joy.

You let yourself go blind and deaf with the glaring lights and loud music. Wherever you look, you see people attached to people. Some are dancing, some are drinking, some are making out, some are just standing and talking with drinks in their hands.

You don’t think you have seen this amount of strangers all year.

You will admit - you feel alive.

But no! No Y/N! You are here with a motive, you can’t let yourself be distracted!

In the story, Jungkook seemed to be close to the bar island. Even though that was more than an hour ago, you still start looking for the bar island.

“Why are there so many bars?” you mumble to yourself as you scan the entire floor. There are at least four bars here, there must be more on the upper floor.

You start feeling helpless at once. All these strangers around you, wrapped in wealth, some giving you long looks - trigger your social anxiety.

Bad decision. It’s a bad decision. You should probably just run away.

But when you are about to take an u-turn, you see him.

You see Jeon Jungkook on the dance floor, grinding on a red-headed pretty looking girl.

He looks - like a fucking wet dream.

A black baggy jeans, a black t-shirt, some bulky golden chains, his dark hair gleams under the lights. His lip ring shines directly on your eyes and you snap back.

Great. Now that you have found him.. You can proceed with your plan - which is to beg him.

Without a second thought, you start stepping on the dance floor.

There are not a lot of people, so you easily get past everyone and stand there behind him.

Your eyes drop on his ass, then his hands, his veins and you question your life choices.

Somebody just crashes on you making you lurch forward.

Your body slams against Jungkook’s back. You are about to apologize when he reaches behind with his hand and grabs your side. He grinds his ass on you without even looking at your face.

You feel nauseous. This is the second time you are meeting him and the proximity is very scandalous.

Placing your hand on top of his, you break free from his hold.

“Jeon Jungkook, can I please talk to you for a moment?” you scream in his ears.

He doesn’t stop moving, but you know he has heard you.

Jungkook slowly moves on his feet while vibing and then turns to face you.

His mischievous eyes bore into yours as he takes you in slowly. He shamelessly eyes your cleavage then looks back up your face.

“What?” he screams over the music.

“Not here. Can we go somewhere quiet?”

He smirks at you, “oh? Already? Wait- have I seen you before?”

Your blood turns cold, “no. I mean yeah. Actually-”

“You- that obnoxious employee from Techtonic? Right?” his eyes go wide.

“Obnoxious? I am obnoxious? Then what are y-” you inhale, “Yes. I am Y/N. You are right. I am from Techtonic. Can I please have a word with you?”

“No? Why would I spare my precious time on you? So that you can insult me again?” he frowns at your figure before starting to walk away.

You grab onto his hand, “Please. I am here to apologize. I promise.”

He looks back, takes a look at the place you are touching him and then looks at you, “if I give you a chance… What will you give me in return?” Jungkook challenges.

What in the world did you get yourself into?

You don’t have a single drop of alcohol in your veins.

I repeat - you don’t have a single drop of alcohol in your veins then what is making you feel so lightheaded?

If it’s the spicy citrusy smell that Jeon Jungkook’s emitting then you won’t admit it even if you end up dying.

“Tell me, Y/N. What will I get if I give you another chance?” he challenges again. This time his tongue pokes out of that perfectly small round mouth and plays with the glinting lip ring.

You don’t understand the science of hearing him clearly despite the sound of loud music and the loud beating of your heart.

“I- anything. Anything you ask for.” you choke out, uncertainty lacing your voice.

“Anything I ask for?” Jungkook comes impossibly close to your body.

You can see long fingers with even longer nails circling around his torso. The red-headed girl is clinged around him.

“If- If I can afford that.” you choke out again.

“Oh.. you definitely can.” he smirks like a devil. All the smug pride drains from your body at the thought of what he might be asking from you.

“Come with me.” Jungkook whispers briefly as he takes your hand and guides you through the crowd towards the upper floor.

The piece of skin, where his fingers are holding your wrist - burns.

You are ashamed, nervous, afraid - all in all you want to die.

Just a week ago you were scoffing at your laptop watching this guy make fame out of a porn video and now he is leading you god knows where to do god knows what.

Before you could take in your surroundings, Jungkook slams you on the nearest wall. He wastes no time in locking you between his arms.

“You really came here only to convince me? You had no other intention, huh?” He asks with the lowest possible voice. A shiver runs down through the path of your spine.

“No. What intention would I even have? I fucked things up at the meeting so my superiors are making me clean the mess.” Your voice comes out firmer than what you thought you could manage.

“Oh? Really? But I think there is something else to it.” Jungkook comes closer to your body. His chest touches yours. You take a sharp inhale but keep the eye-contact intact.

Jungkook’s eyes dip down to your chest again as he continues, “you want what you watched in that video, don’t you?” he wets his lips once those vile words come out of his mouth.

Your jaw hits the floor almost, “what the fuck? What makes you think I want you?”

Jungkook invades whatever was left off of your personal space and whispers right into your ear, “If you accept it nicely, tell me the truth whether you got turned on or not, I will give your company a chance.”

You gulp at his offer.

If you say you were completely unaffected after watching him fucking his partner so well, then it will be a lie for sure.

So… if you swallow your pride and tell him that he indeed had some kind of effect on you - he will be up for another meeting?

“And what if I tell you the truth?” you question, looking deep into his chocolate eyes. All you see there is mirth.

“I will schedule another meeting with your company. But I will be declining you all again.” Jungkook adds nonchalantly.

You scoff at that, pushing him away and making some space between your bodies, “so you are just going to use my confession and insult me in my workplace?”

“Oooohhhh… You are not dumb, I see?” he muses, stumbling back from your body.

“Wh-what? Dumb? You thought I am dumb? Mind you, Jeon Jungkook, I get paid for doing actual work and not because I keep hollering at a dumb computer screen in front of camera.” anger flares through every vein in your body.

“And yet you came here to beg me?” he shrugs smugly.

“You know what? Fuck you and your stupid followers who feed your stupid ego!” screaming at his face, you take steps away, stomping on the floor even if your heels are killing you already.

This was a bad idea. Indeed a bad idea.

You don’t get paid for dealing with these scumbags. So it’s not your responsibility. It’s better to have your appraisal compromised than falling in the trap of Jeon Jungkook.

You imagine Jungkook’s face in the place of the ice cream tub as you stab your fork in it with as much fierceness as you could find in yourself.

Yes, you are eating ice-cream with a fork, so that you can imagine Jungkook’s face and stab in it.

“Fucking nutjob! What do you even think of yourself!” stab stab stab “Karma will hit you back very soon! You fucking asshole!” stab stab stab.

As if granting your prayers, the cosmos sends a notification to your device. You take the phone to see Yoongi's instagram handle that has sent you a text.

You start blushing instantly.

“Is this the universe’s way of making up for today’s trashy encounter?” you murmur to yourself as you open his text.

It’s a link so maybe it’s one of those cat videos he sends you the links of.

As you tap on the link, it takes to a post that has been made just an hour ago. The post - a video, containing proofs of Kim Doona (the influencer Jungkook fucked) being a high school bully. The video has texts sent by Doona to the victim, threatening her not to reveal anything.

Looks like Karma mistook the address. It should have been Jeon Jungkook!

You go to the comments.

All of their followers are going crazy, it’s just the same shit in different sentences. So you scroll past it all.

But there are two comments that catch your eye, actually one comment and its reply.

Commenter: Can’t believe Jeon Jungkook chose her out of everyone? A class bully? Really Jeon? You could do better.

Reply 1: What are you even saying? Jungkook probably didn’t even know and mind you, none of them confirmed if they were together or not. Reply 2: but girl, they f*cked on camera! Reply 3: How does that confirm their relationship? Reply 4: Jeon Jungkook has a girlfriend, I caught them at the club just a few hours ago. The proof is in my story.

Eh? Kim Doona isn’t his girlfriend? That was a rumor? He has another girlfriend who was with him at the club?

But you were at the club too, you should have seen them. Is it that red-head girl?

All of these questions swirl inside your head as you tap on the person’s story.

The video is taken amid a mass of bodies, trying to be discreet, but you can recognize Jeon Jungkook, leading a woman through the crowd.

Your heart stops beating for a moment when you realize it’s you. Your face is not visible properly, curtained by your hair, and you are thankful for that.

The video continues as Jungkook takes you towards the quiet corner. The person, who’s recording, moves too for getting a clearer view.

Now he is hiding behind the end of the wall that Jungkook had pressed you on. The video shows how he had towered you in, whispered in your ear and smirked at you. But then it gets cut right before you push him away!

“Fuck! I am not his girlfriend! Are you people blind? How do we look like a couple?!” you scream at your phone.

You decide you have had enough humiliation today. Hence, putting your phone in charge and traveling towards dreamland is a better idea.

This fiasco may die down by the morning. People will definitely defy the girlfriend theory because you two don’t look like a couple. And your face wasn’t even properly visible in the video. So yeah let sleep solve your problems.

Except - nothing solves.

When you wake up and take your phone out of charge, you grasp so hard that your phone slips from your hold and lands on the bed with a thud.

You have a thousand new follow requests on your instagram account. There are a ton of texts from various people in Ktalk and most of them have sent you insta links.

You open your younger sister’s text. She has sent everything in caps:

Y/N!!!!!!!! WHAT IS THIS??? [Link] YOU DIDN’T TELL ME YOU ARE DATING JEON JUNGKOOK????????

You type your reply:

Calm down. I am not dating that douchebag.

And then you tap on the link.

The post that the link takes you to, can rival your natal chart. It’s a detailed discussion of who you are, what’s your job, how do you look, where you have probably met Jungkook and your insta handel.

They have also attached a photo of Jungkook talking to you standing in the middle of the dance floor.

“Fuck fuck fuck!!!!” you curse and curse and curse.

Why are these people dragging you into this mess now? Why do they have to link you up with him? What the hell is even happening?

How are you even going to get to work today?

You shoot a quick text to Yoongi saying that you need a off-day today for obvious reasons. He sends one of those rofl emojis along with a thumbs up and you try not to feel down.

Yoongi doesn’t really understand what you feel for him? Does he?

You mean you are embroiled in a dating rumor with someone else and he seems to be just fine?

It’s just another confirmation that he doesn’t reciprocate your stupid crush on him.

Just when you are about to keep your phone aside and sleep some more, you get a call from an unknown number.

You don’t think much before receiving it.

“Hello, who’s this?” your voice is still groggy and your stomach rumbles as you speak on the phone.

A sweet cherry voice rings in your ear, “Hello, is this Y/N?”

“Yes. and you?”

“I am Kim Seokjin, Jeon Jungkook’s manager.”

The remnant of sleep flies away from your eyes as the man introduces himself. Why is Jeon Jungkook’s manager calling you this early in the morning!?

“How can I help you?” you voice, not trying to mask your confusion.

“Y/N, I assume you are aware of the situation, right? I mean the rumors?”

“I am aware and currently waiting for Mr. Jeon to decline the speculations.” you state as firmly as possible.

“About that… Why don’t we discuss before revealing anything?”

You frown at that.

“Discuss? What is there to discuss? You know well that I got to know Mr. Jeon via a professional connection, there is nothing else added to it, except for the fact that I visited the club to convince him for another meeting. And all of these things happened.”

“Exactly. I know it all and I also know that it’s not nice to be dragged into this mess but we, me and Jungkook, have a proposition to make. We can use this situation for both of our benefits for strictly business purposes.”

You sigh, “I don’t understand what you are trying to say Mr. Kim.”

“Yes. That is only natural. So, why don’t we meet face to face and get down on the details of the proposition? You can bring a friend or family if you are not comfortable meeting us alone. How does lunch sound?”

You think for a moment. You could probably take Jimin with you? Even though it’s monday, he will squeeze some time out of his schedule if you promise him free lunch.

“Okay. I will send you a confirmation text in this number.” you reply before cutting the call and directing your fingers towards Jimin’s text.

He has sent you a similar array of texts, so hopefully he won’t have too many questions to ask. He will understand once you give him a brief.

“I will tell you everything, can you meet me for lunch? I need to meet Jeon Jungkook and his manager for obvious reasons. Free lunch will be offered.”

His reply comes within a few moments,

“I’m in. I will pick you up just text me the time.”

You now type a text to Kim Seokjin confirming him the meeting as he texts you the time.

Just when you are about to go to Jimin’s inbox again, another unknown number sends you a text.

Annoyance flares through your veins as you open it. It says:

“See you soon, pornaddict.

– Jeon Jungkook.”

You groan at the choice of nick name, “Fuck you, Jeon!”

You don’t understand many things.

But currently, you don’t understand why this fine-as-fuck man is Jeon Jungkook’s manager slash assistant.

He goes by the name Kim Seokjin.

When he smiles at you, you melt. And to compose your flustered state you look at Jeon Jungkook - the (current) bane of your existence.

He gives you a lopsided smile that obviously is fake, leaning down against the sofa seat absorbing as much sunlight as possible.

You don’t give him any reaction.. Beside you, Jimin introduces himself to both of the men.

“Miss Y/N. Thank you so much for coming.” Seokjin says in a pleasant tone. His voice sounds like honey dripping from a silver spoon.

You nod, “Yeah. Alright, Mr. Kim, can I ask about the proposition you were talking about?”

“Call me seokjin. And sure, let’s get into the important details.” he pauses to give you a sweet smile then opens his ipad and scrolls through something. Jungkook, too, scrolls through his phone so unamusedly as if he has been dragged here without his consent.

“So, as you already know, the situation is out of hand now. We tried to take down the initial posts but the photos and videos spread like fire.” he speaks calmly. You nod along with him, Jimin too gives the older man his utmost attention.

“On the other hand, our Jungkookie has been interacting with people, who are currently embroiled in controversy.” noted: Seokjin called Jungkook as Jungkookie and he is talking about Doona.

You see Jungkook rolling his eyes.

“If it wasn’t not for you, then he would be dragged down in the mess too.” Seokjin continues, “I know it’s not nice to be the center of unwanted attention and it is already causing you damage but… we need your help. Jungkook needs your help.”

Jungkook makes a very unapproving sound from his seat.

“What help? How can I even help you guys?” you are now extremely confused. Why would Jeon Jungkook, out of all people, need your help?

“Date him.” Seokjin proposes.

“What?” you and Jimin scream in unison.

“Not for real. Calm down. I meant to say, if you pretend to be his girlfriend before the world, on social media, it will help Jungkookie in defying possible criticism and hatred.” Seokjin explains calmly.

However, you are anything but calm.

Whatever criticism Jeon Jungkook faces, it is simply his own problem. You have nothing to do with it. What is your benefit by being involved with him?

As if reading your mind Seokjin now states, “in return, Jungkookie will sign an exclusive deal with your company for not only one but any kind of future collaboration your company wants with him, that too, at a discounted price.” he winks at you.

Your jaw hits the floor.

“Hyung! What the fuck! Where is this discount coming from?” Jungkook finally opens his mouth for the first time.

“Cool. I’m in.” you reply in a heartbeat. Jimin clutches your wrist under the table.

“Y/N! Aren’t you even going to think?” he whisper-yells in your ear.

“There is nothing to think about. This is a very good deal, Jiminie. I will be hard-pressed to let such an opportunity go.” you whisper back.

“But-”

“I knew you would be an intelligent one” Seokjin cuts off your friend with a cherry tone, “I look forward to working with you” he extends his hand, you take in him with a shake. The shit-eating grin is lighting up your face.

Jungkook sits there throwing daggers at you with his eyes.

“It’s all because of you! You fucked things up!” Jungkook’s loud voice invades the serenity you were enjoying while waiting for Jimin to show up with his car.

You turn your head in astonishment and give him wide eyes, “My ears must have gone cold. You are saying thanks and I am hearing something completely different.”

“No! You are hearing it right, I said you fucked things up. Only if you didn’t show up at the club-”

“Then people would be dragging you down in twitter and instagram for fucking a school bully on camera.” you finish the sentence for him.

Jungkook clicks his tongue and the smirks, “you know what? I can see how bad you are down for me. Is this all a part of your plan?”

You smirk back, folding your hand in front of your chest, “FYI, your manager reached out to me to help you out. I am doing you a favor and you are returning it. Got it?”

“Again.. Again that nasty attitude of yours.” Jungkook steps towards you, “you know what… I kinda like it.”

He breathes directly on your face.

The puff of his breath lands on the apple of your cheeks making a blush creep up without your notice.

“Make sure you save my number, girlfriend. See you tomorrow.” he leans down and whispers the last words in your ears and then disappears inside the parking lot.

You stand there, catching your breath and questioning your decision for the first time since the proposition landed on your lap.

But wait? What does he mean by ‘see you tomorrow’?

Somebody must have pressed a replay button on the cassette of your life.

If not then it’s certainly a deja vu, because the scene that’s unfolding is exactly the same as what happened last week.

You are sitting inside the conference room, with Yoongi and Mrs. Lee and there is Jeon Jungkook sitting right across from you.

The only thing that seems changed today is his attitude - which is a little more tamed.

And oh… your clothes too.

“This is so nice of you to come forward and ask for a meeting after whatever happened last time.” Mrs. Lee speaks in a sickeningly sweet tone. You wanna roll your eyes but decide against it.

“Ah. no no. Miss Y/N is really competent at what she does. The credit goes to her. Even though things went south for the first time, we figured out that we actually are very compatible and working together will be beneficial for both of us. Right?” Jungkook directs his question towards you.

“Uh- yeah. Hahahaha. Yeah.” you honestly don’t know what to reply. He is obviously faking it and you need to fake it too but Yoongi is sitting right beside you and he is staring at you and you are on the verge of losing your sanity.

“I’m sorry if I am overstepping any boundaries but I can’t help being curious if the rumors are true?” Yoongi barges in. He looks at you and then Jungkook, expecting an answer or a reaction.

Before you can say something - something you don’t even know what, Jungkook decides to answer.

“Only time will tell.” he smiles at Yoongi.

The amount of weird glances you are receiving from your colleagues is astronomical.

For most of them it’s just eyeing you up and down and for some of the brave ones, it’s throwing impromptu comments like “oh, Y/N is a celeb now.”

You want to punch them on their faces.

Nevertheless, you don’t want a new trouble right when you manage to fight one crisis in exchange for your name and relationship status.

You scroll through company social media accounts and start planning for all the new content that’s going to drop as soon as Jungkook’s done with the photoshoot.

Your phone chimes with a notification. When take it in your hand to see it’s a text from the devil himself:

“In front of the parking lot. Come in five minutes.”

Your eyes close in frustration. You haven’t even stepped into the deal properly and he has started ordering you already.

But what can you even do, you dug your own grave after all.

It takes you seven minutes to reach the parking lot - obviously because you work on the sixteenth floor and the elevators don’t run on your will.

When you find Jungkook waiting for you at the mentioned location with his bike, you find him kind of intriguing.

It’s been long, embarrassingly long, since you have had a guy waiting for you. Even though you know it’s fake. You can turn blind eye for a moment and let yourself believe otherwise.

“You are late.” he says with a pout.

You lose your sanity only a little.

“Sorry. The elevator didn’t listen to me when I asked it to run fast.” you reply.

“Haha. very funny.” he replies animatedly then reaches for his backpack and plucks out a document folder.

“What is this?” you question naturally.

“The dating contract for our fake relationship.” he shrugs, extending the folder towards you, “Hyung asked you to go through it meticulously. You can add or reduce any term you don’t see fit. We will finalize it and announce our fake relationship officially once you are done. You have time till Friday.” he recites flatly, “also, you can’t tell anyone just yet. Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever-”

“Y/N?” someone calls you and it’s not Jungkook.

You whip your head to see Yoongi is standing a few feets away inside the parking space with keys in his hand.

Your stomach feels funny at his unreadable expression.

And then you feel a pair or lips pressing down on your cheeks.

Jungkook kisses you before parting and saying, “Hasta la vista, baby”

You freeze at your stop. You can see Yoongi’s eyes narrowing on you. Jungkook hops on his bike and leaves within a moment.

You stand there, staring apologetically at the man you like and he sports an expression you can’t comprehend.

“So.. the rumors were true, huh?” Yoongi finally voices after what feels like an eternity.

“No- I-” also, you can’t tell anyone just yet. Got it? Jungkook’s words reel inside your head, “yes” you lie, crossing your fingers behind you.

“Congratulations” Yoongi greets before flashing his gummy smile at you and then leaving you there to look for his car.

“You really don’t care, do you?” you ask him. Even though you know he can’t hear you. There is a mixture of different emotions inside your gut and you are way too tired to name any of those.

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look-at-the-soul · 2 days ago

Text

When you love a woman

Tommy Shelby x reader one shot 🎄

Summary: Tommy initially was trying to courtship Y/N when Grace broke the news of her pregnancy, so he had to step back and be responsible for his child. That was the only reason he decided to be there for Grace. Until one day he accidentally heard a phone call that would change everything.

Word count: 2,200

This was meant to be a request I got but somewhere down the road I decided to change it, no worries I’m still working on the request 🤭

Y/N took a step back to admire the Christmas tree she had been decorating for a few hours, she had a tight budget so going back home for the holidays to spend it at her aunt’s place wasn’t an option unfortunately. She had already made peace with the fact that she’d spend the holidays only with her grandma. Studying the tree it looked nice, she made a few ribbons and added faux pearls around it as decorations.

Tommy was fuming, he walked like a wild animal in a cage, his footsteps could be heard so loud even before he reached her door. It was so late now and unusual of him to show up like this. Specially after not having seen each other in months.

“What happene-” Y/N asked in confusion.

But Tommy wouldn’t let her finish her question, his mouth crashed hard against her lips taking her by surprise. The kiss was hungry and desperate.

One of his hands was holding her head in place while the other traveled down her back.

“You were fucking right…” he managed to say between heated kisses. “I heard Grace talking to someone on the phone, said the baby isn’t mine.”

His words made Y/N froze and she pushed him by the shoulders to look him in the eyes.

“What?!”

She had heard him, but she couldn’t believe his words.

“She tried to trick me into that husband infertility bullshit and she played her cards so well…until now.”

Y/N took a step back, trying to process this new piece of information. Her head was spinning.

She met him right after the Grace disaster, she knew all about his former partner and how she had left to go somewhere else but then she came back into his life, but he had only used her for revenge.

Tommy assured Y/N that with her he felt completely comfortable, that’s why he wanted to do things differently this time around. Their courtship actually started the right way from the beginning, he asked her out on dates, sent her flowers, walked with her on her way back home, he was truly a gentleman. He even started inviting her to the Garrison for a drink, sometimes in his office and other times at the betting shop, They were getting to know each other, but they weren’t officially a couple.

For a few weeks it was heaven, she was able to discover his sense of humor and how intelligent and interesting Tommy was. She still remembered so well when he kissed her for the first time, standing by her doorstep, Tommy cornered her between his body and the doorframe, his fingertips holding her chin while his other hand rested against the wall. It was tender and slow, it tasted like hope and she felt butterflies in her stomach.

She thought she found her chance to be happy with Tommy. But they were in the phase of getting to know each other and little did she know how things would change overnight.

Until one day he knocked on her door looking pale and so serious… she remembered it so well. She knew something was wrong right away.

And how wrong.

He confessed her then that the woman he had a one night stand with for revenge was pregnant with his child.

It took her several minutes to understand what that meant. Tommy would take full responsibility for that baby and the mother and that meant they couldn’t be together. Their relationship wouldn’t continue.

With a heavy heart she advised he shouldn’t leave the child unprotected and that the mother’s reputation would chase her all her life if she started showing without being married. Even though that she had feelings for Tommy, she couldn’t be the reason between he and his baby. And as much as he made his own rules, society wasn’t ready yet for a children to grow apart from their father, even if he didn’t love the mother.

At least they weren’t officially together when Grace announced her pregnancy, so it was supposed to be easier. Whatever that meant.

He apologized a million times, paced the room from side to side in an attempt to calm himself. But it changed nothing, he had to do the right thing and deal with the consequences of his decisions.

Tommy didn’t have feelings for Grace, she knew it, he was clear about that but she thought eventually after getting married and raising a child together she thought feelings would start to show up, that he’d fall in love with Grace and forget about her for good.

At some point she suspected Grace got pregnant on purpose and let the infertility issue drop so Tommy would step up for her child, like a prophesy he was caught up between his feelings for her and Grace’s unborn child, his sense of responsibility and lack of paternal figure won and Tommy took Grace under his protection, even heard they were planning a wedding after the baby was born. And in the end she was right, Grace had lied about the paternity and the mask finally fell.

“Talk to me, ey?” Tommy’s voice brought her back into reality.

“I knew she was fooling you.” She shook her head.

“Hey, look at me… let’s forget about that, yeah?”

“Just like that? And what about all the times I cried?” She slapped his arm. “What if you never found out about the truth?”

A lump installed in her throat, all of the things that could’ve happened crossed her mind.

“Let’s focus on what’s happening.” Tommy’s hand caressed her cheek carefully, he could see all of her emotions in her eyes. “I probably don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I know deep in your heart you can’t hold onto to that forever.”

He was standing right in front of her, with his eyes full of hope, but also worried that it would be late for them, in the few months they got separated because of Grace’s pregnancy they cut all kinds of commutation, and even though he still checked on her, Y/N knew it was for the best, they wouldn’t have an affair no matter what.

“So… you’re free?” She asked with her voice and her heart trembling, thinking of the possibilities.

“It’s over now, there’s no child and no woman between us.” Tommy assured her, his hands on her cheeks to force Y/N to look him in the eyes. “I ordered the maid to pack her bags, and the driver to take her somewhere else.”

He took another small step towards her, their bodies touching and their breaths mixing in the middle.

This new reality changed everything, yet somehow it all felt the same.

“It took me a couple of months to learn the truth, but all I need to know now is… do you still want us to be together?”

Even though they were alone, his voice was just a whisper, a secret between just the two of them.

The thought of her finding someone else crossed his mind, she was beautiful after all, no doubt a long queue of men would be happy to take his place. But could she give her heart away to someone else?

“What about the wedding?”

Although she tried to forget about him and didn’t want to know anything of their lives, she overheard the rumors, there was a big wedding planned for the next fall right after the baby was born.

“If the baby isn’t mine… why would I still marry her? The wedding is canceled. I know I messed up, but I need to know, if there’s still a chance for us?”

Tommy held Y/N’s hands in his, when he decided to step back from their courtship it broke his heart, he had been really looking forward to see where they’d go.

Tommy felt his heart beating hard, he really hoped learning the truth wasn’t so late for them.

“Yes. I do… do you want the same?”

Tommy released the air he had been holding in his chest, but instead of answering with his words, he let her know with his actions what he wanted.

Grabbing her head with both hands, he pulled Y/N for a slow kiss. He needed to believe it was really happening.

Feeling like he had been walking in the dessert for a long time, but he was finally home. He was finally able to do what he had wanted for so long.

Tommy decided he wanted to savor her slowly, without rushing, without hesitation.

There was nothing and nobody between them. Nothing that would keep them apart. Cherishing having her in his arms once more, he could taste her tears in his lips.

“Thank you, thank you.” He murmured against her mouth without breaking apart.

The kiss became more heated by the moment, it was intense and demanding, trying to make up for the lost time. As Tommy’s hand traveled down her thigh, she pressed both hands against his chest to stop him.

It was suddenly so much information in such a short period of time.

“Wait.” Y/N stated breaking the contact, Tommy stared at her disheveled hair and messed lipstick. God she was the most beautiful little thing. “I’m glad you realized the truth before it was too late… but you will have to talk to my grandma, she’s still mad at you.”

Tommy nodded profusely. “Will do.” And tried to kiss Y/N again, but she stopped him by placing a fingertip against his lips.

“And you’ll ask her blessing to ask me out properly again.” She stated firmly.

God he loved to see her like that, bossing him around it was such a turn on.

“Yes. Anything you want.” He tried to sneak his hands around her waist again.

“Who is that, Y/N?” Her grandmother asked from her bedroom.

Scandalized, Y/N covered Tommy’s mouth with her palms. “It’s Vanessa grandma, she needed something. Go back to sleep.”

Tommy used her distraction to pull her closer, he didn’t want to waste more time. Being away from her for a couple of months was enough.

“Ugh it’s past bedtime now, couldn’t it wait?”

Tommy chuckled when she tried to get away from his hands.

“I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.” She tried to push him but it was impossible his hands were like a lock around her.

“Can’t wait for you to take care of me, love.” He wriggled his eyebrows and licked his lips all while giving her a mischievous look.

“Stop it!” She hissed, worried that her grandma would return. “You’ve to go.”

“No.” Tommy stated firmly. Scared that she’d change her mind. “I’m not leaving you again.”

“Tommy I mean for tonight.” Y/N explained, but he shook his head.

“How do I make you understand that I’m not going anywhere?”

“You can’t sleep here.” He stole another kiss.

“Fine. I’ll sleep in the car.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Y/N frowned seeing he was determined to do so. “Oh my God, you actually mean that.”

“I need you to understand how serious I am about us. You’re all that I need.” He could now see it all so clear, he was willing to do anything for her.

Because only when you really love a woman you’re able to understand.

And by just one look in his eyes, she knew he was telling the truth.

Y/N could hardly process what was happening. Their relationship ended right before it could even start because another woman was pregnant with his child, then they found out the truth, their engagement was called off, Grace was out of his life and he was able to finally do what he really wanted and not do something to please anyone else.

“What plans did you have for these days?” He whispered, still holding Y/N close.

Y/N closed her eyes for a moment, shaking her head. “Just grandma and me and I’m cooking a little dinner.”

“How about you and your grandma spend the holidays at my place? Think about it.”

The shock of his plans made her open her eyes wide. They were just starting over, how would they spend the holidays together? That was everything but traditional. What would people say? That one day he was engaged to another woman and the next one he brought home a different girl.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Tommy could read it all over her eyes. “And honestly? I don’t care, we’re doing nothing wrong and it’s none of their business.”

“Let’s take one step at the time, yes?” Y/N proposed feeling more worried about her grandmother’s reaction.

It was crazy to give in so easily, yes. But what options did she have? Pretend to still be mad at him or turn things over and be happy finally?

“Try to get some sleep.” He showered her face with kisses before grabbing his coat and walking outside. “Goodnight love.”

From the window, Y/N saw him climbing in the back seat, he was really going to sleep there!

That was insane, but it was a small sacrifice he’d have to do after everything that happened.

A/N: thank you for reading! I know in today’s world you’d say oh they could still be together while Grace had the baby or he could always take a DNA test, but remember back then those things weren’t possible and this story is based in that period of time… if you want to leave a comment your feedback is always appreciated! ♥️✨

Edit- please don’t come at me, it was just an idea that crossed my mind, the possibility of Charlie not being Tommy’s son due to the bad timing in the series 🫢🤔

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