#divider by fairytopea !

[shortanddsweet]

[iluvrei]

❦︎  ꕀ　 hot mess 𓈒　⁺

[fairy-angel222]

Gojo getting jealous of your attraction towards actor! Choso

The two of you laid together on the couch. His chest pressed into your back as you snuggled under a thick white blanket. A pack of gummy bears in your hand as a smile graced your face when Rin, played by your favorite actor Choso appeared on the screen.

Gojo raised a brow, his brow raising while his chin still rested on your head, looking down at your curled lips in question. “What are you smiling so hard about?” he chuckled.

“Oh nothing, Choso Kamo is just one of the hottest men ever created.” You sighed, biting down on the chewy snack while Gojo sat up behind you.

“What did you just say?” he scoffed. Offense clear on his features as he eyed the man on your screen.

“Choso Kamo is one of the most attractive men ever? I mean.. have you seen the guy.” You replied with a giggle like it was the most obvious thing in the world, Gojo’s eye twitching lightly as his jaw clenched. “Is that so?”

“Mhm, he’s just so.. perfect. It’s a shame he’s married.” You rambled enthusiastically, eyes fixated on a man who wasn’t your boyfriend. “Not as perfect as you baby but you get what i mean.” Pressing a short kiss to his cheek before focusing your attention back onto the show.

Your attention was pulled away when Gojo roughly turned you onto your back, his knees on either side of your hips as he straddled you. His hand coming up around your neck with the tilt of his head followed by a dark grin. “So you’re attracted to other men now?”

You whimpered when his grip tightened, “Have all this to yourself yet you’re smiling over some guy on your screen.” He laughed to himself, leaning down so that his lips ghosted over your ear. His breath hot on your skin as he whispered. “Let me show you what these dumb actors you like could never do, i mean.. not like you’d ever meet him anyway.”

Hurriedly stripping you out of your clothes, “How they could never make you feel.”

You shuddered when Gojo ran his fingers between your already wet folds, running them along your slit before circling them around your clit. Your back arched as you moaned softly. “See that? Barely even touched you and you’re already soaked f’me. Pussy knows who she belongs too.”

Dipping his finger into you with a smirk. “Can this Kamo guy physically touch you like this?” You moaned once more, Gojo’s tongue running up your neck and over your ear. “Even if you got to meet him baby, no one could take you away from me.” He breathed.

Large hands on your waist flipping you onto him. Sitting up with you on his lap facing the still playing show. Sinking you down on his cock with one arm around your hips while the other snaked around your neck.

You mewled as you felt his cock pierce deeper and deeper, your ass flush onto his thighs with your head falling back onto his shoulders. “Satoruu.”

Gojo groaned, fucking up roughly into you as you moaned adorably. Thick cock hammering up into your g spot as you cried out loudly. Your stomach tightening with heat as your pussy spasmed, breathing speeding up with a string of loud mewls when Gojo quickened his pace.

“Satoruu— fuck,” you clenched down on him, lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin filling your ears along with the sticky squelch of your sopping pussy on his thighs. Gojo grinned as he forced you to look up at the screen. “Fucking look at him. This is who ya want over me? Someone who doesn’t even want ya?” he gritted, not giving you a chance to answer before he continued, “Well guess what baby, i’m the only one who could fuck you this good regardless. So even if you did meet him, you bet your ass you’d come running back to me.”

You moaned shakily, wanting to tell him that he was right. Choso was just a stupid actor crush, which meant he had nothing to be worried about. But he was fucking into you so good, so deep, thrusts mean and quick to bully your tight pussy open. Stretching you out to take all of him.

Gojo grunted deeply, letting out a low curse as your pussy messily drenching his thighs. “I’m the only one who’ll ever get to see this messy pussy.” His slender fingers rubbing harsh circles onto your sensitive clit, pulling a loud cry past your lips at the increased stimulation.

“Satoruu— nngh, ‘m cumming,” you cried with a whimper, your toes curling with the violent shake of your body as your head grew foggy. Gojo never slowing the movement of his hips as he fucked through the clear streams leaking out of your pretty pussy.

“Yeah baby? Gon’ cum for me? Or to the sight of that fucker in front of you?” he growled out, choking you even harder as he neared his release.

You let out a choked mewl, “You. Gonna cum f’ you.” Your chest rising and falling as your eyes got watery, your nails digging into his arms as you were brought closer to your orgasm.

“Sure about that?”

“Mhm- you, just you. Choso… nngh— Choso doesn’t come close,” your eyes closing as your back arched, feeling yourself at the edge of letting go. “Oh f-fuckk— you’re the one f-fucking me so good. The only one i need.” you added on with another tearful cry.

“There ya go, that’s a good fucking girl- speaking my language now. Go on baby, cum f’ me.” Watching as you fell apart on his cock with his name heavy on the tip of your tongue. Your legs trembling as your orgasm raked through your body, vision blurred as you squirted with a short scream.

Gojo whistled, “Know for sure that no one else can make ya do that.” His thrusts getting sloppy before he was burying himself inside you with a moan of his own, cock twitching as he began to pump you full of his cum. “Fuck baby, pussy’s so damn tight. The only one who can breed ya full is me.” Stilling his movements completely as spurts of the sticky substance spilled into you. “Now would you look at that.”

Your eyes peeled open to a close up shot of Rin staring sadly into the distance. The image slowly zooming in closer and closer to his face. Gojo laughed loudly, “Seems like someone’s not too happy with what he sees.” He joked, his palm randomly landing onto your puffy cunt to see you jerk with a whine. “‘S too bad for you that he’s not here to do something about it.”

You rolled your eyes tiredly with a small smile. Gojo Satoru was truly a strange man.

[srslyblvck]

── secret santa,, james potter [part one]

pairing: james potter x fem!reader

synopsis: in which you become the secret santa of none other than james potter

genre: fluff

warnings: none

author's note: ik it isn't even december, oh well, i couldn't help myself :)

word count: 1.1k

part two!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ SNOW FLUTTERED GENTLY AGAINST the tall, frosted windows of the Gryffindor common room, casting a soft glow over the cosy space. The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, and the air buzzed with anticipation as the Gryffindor gang gathered in a circle on the floor, laughing and sipping on mugs of cocoa.

Sirius, always the self-appointed leader of mischief, stood atop one of the squishy armchairs like he was addressing a crowd of thousands. His dark hair flopped dramatically as he gestured toward the large bowl of folded parchment in his hands.

“Lend me your ears!” Sirius announced with flair. “It is time for the greatest, most legendary Gryffindor tradition—our annual Secret Santa! The only thing that rivals this sacred event is when James hexed Snivellus’—”

“Sirius!” Lily interrupted, fixing him with a sharp glare, though the corners of her mouth twitched in amusement. “If you could manage to keep it PG, that’d be great.”

Sirius sighed dramatically, holding a hand to his chest. “Evans, your lack of faith wounds me. I’m a model of propriety.”

Remus snorted softly from his seat on the arm of the couch. “Sure you are.”

“Can we please get on with it before Sirius bursts into a sonnet about himself?” James chimed in, sprawled out on the floor with his hands behind his head. His untamable hair stuck out in every direction, and his glasses were slightly askew. He was grinning, the kind of grin that could light up an entire room.

“You’re just eager because you’re convinced you’ll get Evans again,” Marlene teased, leaning over to flick James on the shoulder.

James shot her a mock-wounded look. “For your information, I have no such hopes. My heart will graciously accept any gift—except socks. Sirius.”

Sirius gasped. “I would never.”

“You absolutely would,” Dorcas piped up with a smirk, earning a round of laughter from the group.

“Alright, alright!” Sirius cut in, gesturing dramatically toward the bowl in his hands. “The rules are simple: pick a name, don’t tell anyone who you’ve got, and if your gift sucks, prepare to be ruthlessly mocked.”

“Sounds fair,” Peter muttered as he scratched his nose.

One by one, the group leaned forward to pluck a slip of parchment from the bowl. You waited until your turn, your fingers brushing against the cool paper as you grabbed a folded chit. Your heart skipped a beat as you unfolded it and saw the name:

James Potter.

Your eyes instinctively darted toward him. James was mid-laugh, probably at some ridiculous quip Sirius had made, and there was a mischievous sparkle in his hazel eyes. You quickly looked away before anyone could notice the heat rising to your cheeks.

Of all the names you could’ve drawn, it had to be James.

From the moment names were drawn, the common room became a hotbed of shenanigans.

“Oi, love,” James said casually the next evening as you sat near the fire, working on your Potions essay. “You can just tell me who you’ve got, you know. Save yourself the stress.”

You didn’t even look up from your parchment. “Nice try, Potter. Not happening.”

He leaned back in his chair, clutching his chest dramatically. “You wound me! After everything we’ve been through?”

“I’m doing you a favour,” you said with a smirk, finally glancing up. “Imagine the disappointment if I told you someone else got you and not your precious Evans.”

His grin widened, and there was a playful glint in his eyes. “Who says I want Evans?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’ve only been after her for, what, three years?”

James shrugged, leaning forward on his elbows. “Maybe I’ve had a change of heart. Maybe there’s someone else who’s caught my eye.”

Your cheeks burned, and you quickly ducked your head to pretend you were reading your essay. “Well, whoever they are, I’m sure they pity you.”

He threw his head back with a laugh, and your stomach did an annoying little flip. Merlin, he was impossible.

The chaos only deepened as Christmas approached. James became increasingly annoying in his quest to figure out his Secret Santa, trying to weasel answers out of everyone.

“Wormtail, it’s you, isn’t it?”

“What? No!” Peter said, flustered, clutching his Charms textbook.

“It’s Moony, then,” James decided, turning to Remus.

“I’m not saying anything,” Remus said calmly, flipping a page in his book. “But if you keep pestering me, I’ll make sure whoever has you gets you socks.”

“Traitors, all of you,” James declared, throwing himself onto the couch in defeat.

“I heard Sirius in Honeydukes the other day asking the shopkeeper if they could make a giant chocolate wolf. Like, life-sized.” Marlene whispered, her eyes wide with glee.

You clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle your laugh. “You’re kidding.”

“I wish I were,” Marlene said, grinning. “The poor clerk looked like they didn’t know whether to laugh or run.”

“Are you two gossiping about me?” Sirius asked, turning to narrow his eyes at you and Marlene.

“Always,” Marlene quipped, not missing a beat.

Sirius looked pleased. “As you should.”

You spent hours agonising over James’ gift. He was impossible to shop for—he had everything he needed, and he didn’t seem the type to care much about material things. But you wanted it to be special, something that would show you’d noticed the little things about him.

Finally, inspiration struck.

You bought him a small, leather-bound notebook, the kind with a soft cover and faint golden stars embossed on the front. James was always scribbling something—Quidditch plays, spell ideas, random doodles. It seemed like the perfect fit.

Inside the front cover, you wrote:

For all your brilliant (and slightly ridiculous) ideas. - ♡

You also found a tiny enchanted Snitch pin at a shop in Hogsmeade. It was gold and delicate, and its tiny wings occasionally fluttered when touched. You figured it was subtle enough to wear but still a nod to his love for Quidditch.

The common room glowed with the warmth of fairy lights strung around the tree, and the group had gathered again, this time with a pile of wrapped gifts beneath the branches. Sirius had, naturally, donned a Santa hat and was gleefully handing out presents.

When it was James’ turn, he tore into the wrapping paper with childlike enthusiasm, his grin widening as he pulled out the notebook and pin.

“This is…” He trailed off, turning the notebook over in his hands. His hazel eyes softened as he read the note inside, and a small, genuine smile played on his lips. “This is brilliant.”

He held up the pin, letting it catch the light, and glanced around the room. “Whoever got me this, you’ve officially got better taste than Sirius.”

“Oi!” Sirius protested, though he was laughing.

James’ gaze flickered to you for a brief moment, and your heart stuttered. Did he know? The way his smile lingered made you wonder, but you quickly looked away, your cheeks warm.

For now, you were content with the way his smile lit up the room.

[atsubie]

ׅ ◌⃘࣭ٜ࣪࣪࣪۬  𝒲𝖾𝗅𝗅, 𝖨 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗅𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗂𝗇

ׅ . 🪄 ࣪ 𝗆𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗺𝗲. ✿͙𓈒 𝅄 ֹ 👛 𖦹

[hxeluvr]

RIDING OUT THE STORM

Lee Heeseung x fem!reader

Plot: Heeseung and you are in the middle of a power outage.

WARNINGS: Smut so MDNI!, m/f romance, kissing, making out, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (cover your stump before you hump), creampie (breeding kink (kinda if you squint?)) multiple orgasms, etc. BARELY PROOFREAD // first time writing smut!!

characters: over 16k

The storm rages outside, rain pelting against the windows as the wind howls, but inside, you feel safe and warm in Heeseung's embrace. His arms are wrapped tightly around you, holding you close as you rest your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The room is dark, but you can make out the outline of his features in the dim light filtering through the curtains.

You can feel the warmth radiating from his body, and it helps to soothe your nerves. Heeseung's fingers gently play with your hair, running through the strands in a calming motion. You let out a content sigh, feeling your body relax in his arms.

"Are you okay?" Heeseung asks softly, his breath warm against your ear.

You nod, "Yeah, I'm okay."

Heeseung's hand moves from your hair to your chin, gently tilting your head up so he can look into your eyes. In the dim light, you can see the concern etched on his face.

"You sure?" he asks, his voice full of genuine care.

You nod again, giving him a small smile. "Yeah, I'm good. Just a little scared of the storm, I guess."

Heeseung's thumb brushes gently against your cheek, a comforting gesture that makes your heart flutter. "I've got you," he murmurs, his lips curving into a reassuring smile. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

You feel a surge of warmth and gratitude towards him, and you lean forward to press a soft kiss to his lips.

Heeseung responds eagerly to your kiss, his arms tightening around you as he deepens the kiss. His tongue traces the seam of your lips, seeking entry, and you gladly open your mouth to him. The taste of him is intoxicating, and you can't help but moan as his tongue explores your mouth.

Heeseung's hands begin to wander, sliding down your back and settling on your hips.

He pulls you closer, pressing your bodies together as he continues to devour your mouth. You can feel his growing arousal against your thigh, and it sends a thrill through you. Your own desire is building, and you can feel the heat pooling between your legs.

Heeseung's hands move to your waist, sliding under your shirt and tracing patterns on your skin.

His fingers leave a trail of fire in their wake, making you gasp and squirm in his arms. You can feel the muscles of his chest flexing beneath your hands as he continues to explore your mouth with his tongue. Heeseung's touch is sending waves of pleasure through your body, and you can't help but arch into him, seeking more contact.

Heeseung's hands continue to roam, sliding up your back and unhooking your bra with expert ease. The garment falls away, leaving your breasts exposed to the cool air. But Heeseung is quick to warm you up, his hands cupping your breasts and squeezing gently. His thumbs brush over your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure straight to your core.

You break the kiss long enough to gasp in pleasure as Heeseung's skilled hands tease your sensitive peaks. He dips his head to capture one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard while his tongue flicks back and forth. You cry out, your fingers tangling in his hair as you hold him close.

The storm outside rages on, but inside, you're lost in your own world of pleasure.

Heeseung's other hand continues to roam, slipping beneath the waistband of your pants and finding its way to your core. He teases you mercilessly, his fingers tracing circles around your clit before dipping lower to explore your slick folds. You moan, your hips bucking against his hand as he plunges a finger inside of you.

Heeseung adds another finger, stretching you open and preparing you for more. His thumb continues to circle your clit, building up a delicious friction that has you panting and begging for more. Heeseung's mouth moves to your other breast, giving it the same attention as the first. You're writhing in his arms, lost in a sea of pleasure as he expertly brings you closer and closer to the edge.

As the storm outside continues to rage, Heeseung's fingers begin to move faster, driving you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. You can feel your orgasm building, your muscles tensing as Heeseung's fingers work their magic. With one final thrust, you cry out as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. Your body shudders and spasms, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

Heeseung slows his fingers, letting you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm. He presses soft kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your lips, soothing you as your breathing returns to normal. His fingers are still inside of you, gently stroking your sensitive walls. You can feel yourself clenching around him, your body still eager for more.

"How are you feeling?"

Heeseung murmurs, his voice low and soothing. You take a deep breath, savoring the feeling of his fingers still inside of you.

"I'm good," you reply, your voice soft and husky from your earlier screams of pleasure. "Better than good, actually."

Heeseung smiles at you, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. "I'm glad," he says, his voice full of warmth.

He slowly begins to remove his fingers from you, taking his time and watching your reactions closely. Once he's completely withdrawn, he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean, his eyes never leaving yours. You blush at the sight, feeling a renewed surge of desire.

"You taste amazing," he says, his voice low and seductive. You bite your lip, feeling self-conscious but also turned on by his words.

The room is still dark, but the storm outside seems to have calmed down a bit. The rain is still falling, but the wind has died down and the thunder is less frequent. You can feel Heeseung's heartbeat slowing down as well, matching your own. His arms are still wrapped around you, holding you close as you both catch your breath.

Heeseung's hand is still in yours, his fingers intertwined with yours.

Heeseung carefully untangles himself from you, his movements gentle and deliberate. He stands up from the couch, then bends down to scoop you up in his arms. You let out a soft gasp of surprise, but you quickly relax in his arms as he carries you to the bedroom. The hallway is dimly lit, but you can see the outline of Heeseung's features in the low light.

As Heeseung carries you to the bedroom, you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation building in your chest. The storm outside has died down to a gentle patter of rain against the windows, and the house is filled with a comfortable quiet. But in your heart, you know that the real storm is just beginning.

Heeseung lays you down on the bed, his movements careful and deliberate.

He climbs onto the bed beside you, his body hovering over yours as he looks down at you with a heated gaze. You can feel the warmth radiating from his body, and you can't help but shiver in anticipation. Heesseung's hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing gently against your skin as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips.

You respond eagerly, your lips parting to welcome his tongue.

Heeseung takes full advantage of this invitation, his tongue exploring your mouth with a passion that leaves you breathless. His other hand comes up to tangle in your hair, holding you close as he deepens the kiss. You can feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, and it sends a thrill through you. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you deepen the kiss.

Heeseung's fingers continue to dance over your sensitive peaks, causing you to gasp and writhe beneath him. His lips continue their descent down your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You can feel your arousal building with each passing moment, your body trembling with anticipation.

Heeseung's mouth reaches your navel, and he pauses to swirl his tongue around the indent.

You laugh breathlessly, your fingers tightening in Heeseung's hair as you tug him closer. His response is to nip playfully at your skin, causing you to gasp and squirm beneath him. His fingers never stop their teasing caresses, and you can feel yourself growing wetter with each passing moment.

Heeseung's mouth continues its journey down your body, finally reaching its destination between your legs.

Heesseung's tongue darts out, swiping a long, languid lick across your folds. You cry out, your hips bucking off the bed as a wave of pleasure crashes over you. Heeseung's hands grip your hips, holding you down as he continues to explore your slick flesh with his tongue.

Heeseung's tongue works its magic, teasing and tasting every inch of you. His fingers join in, sliding inside of you as he sucks and licks your clit. You're moaning and writhing beneath him, your hands gripping the sheets as you beg for more. The storm outside has long since faded to a distant memory, but inside, the storm rages on as Heeseung brings you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Heeseung's tongue swirls around your clit, his fingers thrusting in and out of you in a steady rhythm. You can feel yourself nearing the brink, your muscles tensing as the pleasure builds inside of you. Heeseung's other hand comes up to tease your nipple, pinching and twisting it gently. The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, and you cry out, tears glistening in your eyes, as you come undone.

Heeseung's tongue slows as you come down from your orgasm, his fingers still moving inside of you. He kisses your inner thighs, his lips leaving a trail of fire on your sensitive skin. Heesseung's body moves up yours, his hips settling between your thighs. You can feel his hard length pressing against your entrance, and you can't help but shiver in anticipation.

Heeseung's eyes meet yours, and he gives you a slow, seductive smile. He reaches down to position himself at your entrance, his tip teasing you as he rubs it up and down your slick folds. You moan, your hips bucking as you try to get him to enter you. But Heeseung is in control, and he takes his time, letting the anticipation build until you're begging him to take you.

Heeseung finally gives in to your pleas, pushing himself inside of you in one long, slow thrust. You cry out, your back arching off the bed as he fills you up completely. Heeseung pauses for a moment, letting you adjust to his size before he begins to move. His thrusts are slow and deliberate, each one causing you to gasp and moan as he hits that spot deep inside of you.

Heeseung sets a steady rhythm, his hips moving in a slow, hypnotic dance. His hands are on your hips, holding you in place as he thrusts deeper and deeper. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to another orgasm, your body tightening with each thrust. Heeseung's eyes never leave yours, and you can see the desire and passion burning within them.

"You feel so good."

Heeseung's voice is low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. His hips continue to move, the friction building between you driving you closer to the edge. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside of you. Heesseung's thrusts become faster, more urgent as he feels you tightening around him. His fingers dig into your hips, holding you steady as he drives himself deeper and deeper.

You can feel Heeseung's hard cock hitting that spot deep inside of you, and you cry out as another wave of pleasure crashes over you. Your muscles tense around him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you come undone. Heeseung lets out a low groan as he feels you tightening around him, his own release following close behind. He collapses on top of you, his breathing ragged as he pants into your neck.

Heeseung's body trembles as he releases inside of you, his hips still moving in a slow, languid rhythm. He kisses your neck, his lips leaving a trail of fire on your sensitive skin. His breathing is ragged, and you can feel his heart pounding against your chest. Heeseung's hips continue to move, his length still hard inside of you. You moan softly, your hips meeting his as he begins to move again.

Heeseung's thrusts are slow and deliberate, each one causing you to gasp and moan as he hits that sweet spot deep inside of you. You can feel your body growing sensitive again, your muscles tensing as another orgasm builds within you. Heeseung's lips never leave your skin, his kisses leaving a trail of fire on your neck and shoulders.

"You’re doing so good,baby" Heeseung murmurs, his voice low and husky.

His hips continue to move, the friction building between you driving you closer to the edge once again. You can feel your pleasure mounting, your breath hitching as you feel another climax approaching.

"Oh, Heeseung, I'm going to cum again," you moan, your fingers gripping the sheets as you feel your body tensing up.

Heeseung responds with a low growl, his hips picking up speed as he drives himself deeper inside of you. His fingers dig into your hips, holding you steady as he chases your climax. You can feel the pleasure building inside of you, the tension coiling tighter and tighter with each thrust. Heeseung's lips find yours, his kiss deep and passionate as he feels you trembling beneath him.

"Cum for me, love."

Heeseung's words are like a spark to dry kindling, igniting your pleasure into an inferno. You cry out, your back arching off the bed as you shatter beneath him. Your muscles clench around his length, milking his own release from him. Heesseung groans, his hips stuttering as he fills you once more.

Heeseung's body is still pressed against yours, his warmth a comforting presence as he recovers from his release. He slowly pulls out of you, his tip dragging against your sensitive flesh as he does so. You can feel his warmth spilling out of you, coating your thighs. Heeseung's hand moves between your legs, his fingers gently pushing his release back inside of you.

Heeseung's fingers are slick with his own release as he pushes them inside of you, coating you with his essence. His touch is gentle, soothing as he massages your inner walls. You can feel yourself growing slick again, your body responding to his touch.

"Shh, it's okay, baby" Heeseung murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear.

Heeseung's fingers continue to move inside of you, his touch gentle and soothing. You can feel yourself growing more relaxed, your muscles unclenching as he massages your inner walls. His other hand moves to your hip, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your skin.

"You're so beautiful," Heeseung whispers, his voice filled with awe and admiration.

Heeseung's fingers continue to move inside of you, each gentle thrust causing you to shiver with pleasure. His touch is soothing, calming as he helps your body come down from the high of your orgasm. Heesseung's lips brush against your ear, his breath warm and soft against your skin.

"Thank you," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung's fingers slip out of you, leaving a warm, slick sensation behind. He kisses your forehead gently before rolling over to your side, pulling you close to him. You rest your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as you both catch your breath.

The room is still illuminated by the soft glow of the candles, casting flickering shadows on the walls.

The scent of musk still lingers in the air, a constant reminder of the passionate moments you just shared. Heeseung's fingers absentmindedly play with your hair, the gentle tugging sending tingles down your spine. You can feel the tension leaving your body as you sink deeper into his embrace.

Heeseung's chest rises and falls with each breath, the steady rhythm lulling you into a state of relaxation.

The sound of the rain continues to patter against the window, but you barely notice it anymore. The storm outside feels like a world away, a distant memory as you lay wrapped in Heeseung's embrace. His warmth envelops you, his arms holding you close as if he never wants to let you go.

As you lay in Heeseung's embrace, your eyelids growing heavy. The sound of his heartbeat and the warmth of his body lull you into a peaceful sleep. You snuggle closer to him, your body molding to his as you drift off.

The last thing you feel is the gentle rhythm of Heeseung's breathing and the softness of his lips as they brush against your forehead. The storm outside has faded into a distant memory, and all that matters is the comforting presence of the man you trust and desire.

[heavenurl]

　　　　　　　　　　⋆ ˚ ۪ ⋆ ୨୧ espresso

[awwriri]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ᛝ ⠀⠀ ⠀︵⠀⠀ ⠀⠀𓎢𓎟𓎡 ⠀⠀ ⠀ 𓉸ྀི

[hoseoksluna]

INFINITY | jjk

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x f. reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2.7k

summary: your birthdays have never been happy until jungkook became your boyfriend.

note: IT'S MY BIRTHDAYYYYYY. and i wrote this little light fic in just a day for the occasion. no smut, just pure fluff and cuteness. i want you all to go back and read this fic on your own bday and imagine you have such an amazing bf like jk:( enjoy! i love you guys. MWAH.

He was supposed to be here. 

Or at least that’s what your brain kept telling you throughout the longest workday of your life as your fingers tapped away on the keyboard and you used your sweet sing-song voice to talk to customers—something you do five, sometimes six days a week, although today was different. 

Today was your birthday. 

A pitifully miserable day that celebrates the moment you came into this world, only to realize, fifteen years later, that you don’t fit in—that it doesn’t have a place for you, where you belong and where you can be happy. A wretched day that your mom doesn’t want to celebrate because the preparations stress her out and because she thinks your family doesn’t really like you and she doesn’t want you to get sad, when they buy you gifts that are disappointing. 

As if that mattered. As if you didn’t love your family enough that the gifts aren’t what’s important about this day. 

This year shall be different, though. For the first time in your life you have a serious boyfriend that you’ve been with for a whole year now. A round but tall and muscular boyfriend. A Harley-Davidson driving, gold Marlboro-smoking boyfriend that you met a day after your birthday that should’ve been special but wasn’t. You spent it in tears because your mom made you feel guilty about wanting to celebrate it with your family, so you went out the following night with your girls to get drunk, go forget and met this man outside the bar that smoked alone and smiled at you a bit too often whenever you felt his gaze and turned around, your arm half-bent in the air, the cigarette smoke of your own swirling around your shivering form from the cold and the dull excitement that you caught the attention of someone so attractive and adorable at the same time. 

The way his eyes glinted in the yellow lights, starry and tender, as if they had never seen the ugly in this world—or perhaps they have, but they never accepted it. 

The way they rounded even more when you met them with your own, and the way his mouth parted because he seemingly couldn’t believe that you would notice him. 

Your friends knew something you did, innerly, as well—that this man was special and that he was yours. Your best friend, the mom of the friend group, stubbed her cigarette and leaned inside the waterfall of your hair and instructed you what to do. 

Stay here and have another cig. We’re going inside. 

You felt that it was the right thing to do, and so you smiled and you nodded. Your best friend patted your head, smirked to herself and left without any other word. 

You lit up another cigarette. 

And Jungkook… he was a moth, transfixed by the flame, gravitating towards you and sparking up a conversation about the happy birthday headband you were wearing. And you stayed there with him until your fingers were numb with the iciness of the night and until you ran out of cigarettes. 

But you didn’t go back to your friends all empty. 

Jungkook slid two Marlboros of his own into your pack, infiltrated hope into your heart by talking to you so gently and so purely—a hope in a better life and a better world and a better birthday, and infused your lungs with poetry by the way he looked at you. 

Like you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.

And a month later, after many dates, you had a taste of infinity on his lips. The infinity of the universe, of the world, of the love that had been brewing in you for him. The infinity of life that likes you, that had mercy on you and gave you someone like him. You had shared that with him on many occasions, but the first time he heard it, he sobbed into your hands. And just like you knew it then that he was yours, you couldn’t doubt it at that moment. 

He was engraved into your veins, written on the page that has your name within the Book of Life. 

And now, a year later, you ponder the hope that has not left the chambers of your heart since that fateful night as you enter your dark, deserted apartment that carries his scent but not his presence. 

You expected him to be here, waiting for you to come home after your afternoon shift. Your manager let you leave a half an hour early, an information you texted your boyfriend as soon as you received it, but now as you click on your messages with him, you perceive that he hasn’t even seen it. 

It hasn’t even been delivered. Only sent. 

Your heart cracks. The infinity thins out. You throw your brown leather purse onto the ground and try, with all your might, to keep your emotions at bay. The words of your mother flood your brain and your spine rounds at the heft of its innermore truth, your tiredness due to your long workday helping, breaking your back until you walk upon the debris of your own bones. 

So much for having hope. So much for believing that you could be loved by those closest to you. Why is this happening to you? Why do you have to be so eternally sad? Having the wholeness of the world against you as if you were nothing, as if you weren’t a human being deserving of love—

The rapid railroad of your thoughts is halted by the three-seconds long beeping of your passcode being accepted and when you turn around, the world you thought was against you turns to face you, ready to immerse you in its kindness. 

Jungkook enters. And it’s not a bouquet of flowers, whose petals graze against his sweaty temple. No, it’s a humongous pot of a white orchid that swallows all light of the room, only to spit it back down your throat when Jungkook crosses the distance and kisses you until your mind gets woozy, spinning around and around. 

A hard, alarming kiss that contains many, many questions. 

The light mends your heart, the softness of his lips, despite the harshness of the long peck, gluing all those broken parts together, and your lungs bloom with new flowers of poetry that he’s more than capable of taking care of in you. His free hand grips your waist, intensifying the questions in the kiss and when he pulls back, they thump in his big, round eyes that are never brown, but endlessly black. 

They thump so vivaciously that they plunge out of his mouth almost immediately. 

“Where were you? I waited for you outside of your work. I wanted to pick you up,” he says, panting, so out of breath as if he ran all the way here and broke a sweat. A bead of perspiration trickles down his other temple—and there, behind his ear, you notice a singular cigarette with a brown butt. 

Gold Marlboro. 

The sight is an electricity that drives life into your heart, making it beat as if it was never broken in the first place. 

Your lips are dry, your throat parched, and you think you need another one of his kisses. As a matter of fact, that’s all you want. His kisses, his sweat, his warm presence. 

Him. 

“My manager let me go home half an hour early,” you explain, gripping the hand that holds you, feeling guilty. Jungkook’s eyes pierce you, paying the utmost attention to you, coaxing your words out of you. You can vividly see that he needs them. “I texted you. I thought you’d be here.” 

Jungkook sighs, closing his eyes for a split second. A wave of relief washes over him and he purses his lips before he presses them not against your own, but against your cheek, his free hand migrating to the back of your head. And the warmth of his palm slaughters all of your bad thoughts, makes space for happy thoughts and happy emotions—and the act is so severely profound that you have to hold onto him, grip his waist like he gripped yours, and take the transformation as best as you can. 

“I was so scared,” he whispers onto your cheekbone, resting his face against yours, sinking his fingers into your hair. “If it weren’t for your coworker who told me that you left early, I would still be standing there.” He withdraws, looking down at you and pointing your face up at him. “My phone died. I didn’t get your message. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. I wanted to surprise you.” 

Your heart enlarges, escaping out of your throat and into the pot he’s still holding. You shake your head, thinking he doesn’t need to be sorry for anything, and pucker your lips to ask for another kiss. Jungkook nearly whimpers at the sight, leaning down and obliging, softening the kiss he’s so willing to give you, melting it into a hundred more kisses that make your tummy flutter. And there, there the hope, which he had suffused you with a year ago, comes to a full circle and you comprehend that as long as you have him, you’ll never spend your birthday in despair. 

And because of that, you deepen the kiss. 

The tears streaming down your cheeks feel so terribly faint owing to the overwhelmingness of your emotions. It is gladness that clutches your whole being, gratitude second, and your expanding love for him in third place. And all those emotions dissolve into his cheeks in the infinity of your kiss and it is when you press your body against his and wrap your arms around his neck that you realize that the orchid pot isn’t the only gift he has for you. Around the same wrist, belonging to his hand that holds the flower, are hung small gift bags that prevent you from fully dissipating into him—and that is the matter that severs the kiss, which holds the entire universe. 

And it’s not the contents of the gift bags that makes it collapse. 

It’s the red ring box that he fishes out of his pocket. 

Jungkook doesn’t get down on his knee. His hands tremble, very much like your heart, your blood system, your muscles, as he opens the box and allows you to see the gift for your very first special birthday. A diamond ring, held up by a gold lining shaped into an infinity sign. The infinity of his kiss, the infinity of your love for him, the little things you observed that made him cry—all made true in a singular ring that flits in his tattooed, trembling hand. The orchid gets placed on the nearby round table and the foreign emotions, which go beyond the ordinary happy emotions you’ve ever felt, suffocate you. So much that you begin to tremble just the same, sobbing as you turn your gaze away from the magnificent ring to the greater, blurry magnificence of his eyes just to catch the same, identical tears drenching his red, red cheeks. 

“Jungkook…” you mewl, sniffling, your constricting lungs not letting you say anything else, and you cup his hands like a flower. Perhaps to still their quivering, perhaps to just simply hold them—feel his warmth, feel the vibrancy of his tattoos—because, truth be told, you have no idea what’s happening.  

Jungkook calls you by your name in order to have your full attention and you anticipate finding in him the meaning of this all, stability and groundness. And he doesn’t hesitate. Hell, he doesn’t waste a second. 

“My little princess,” he starts but pauses momentarily, his bottom lip quivering as he holds his tears and you fall apart. At the pet name, at the unfolding of his emotions that bear nothing but raw beauty you’d readily die for.  “This is my promise to you that I am yours for all infinity. Nothing can break it, nothing can stop it, and that defines our life together. I want to spend it with you until we’re the last two people on this Earth. I know our love will keep us alive.” Tears spurt down onto his cheeks against his strong will and you wipe them away as you feel yourself swelling up with love, with something beyond joy, and with utmost, utmost adrenaline. “I love you with everything in me.” His voice breaks and you break in tandem. Jungkook envelops a buff arm around you, burying you into his chest, and for the last part of his speech, he draws close to your ear. “Happy birthday.” 

And he kisses that little seashell, kisses the planes of your cheeks until he finds your lips that he seizes, violently, with his until the infinity bursts at the seams, imbuing you with its eternal, yet different energy that promises that everything from now on shall be joyful and beautiful. His sob entangles with yours and, pulling away with a smack, he grins down at you. No piercings, just the flush of his cheeks and the love for you he radiates adorning him—and you love him. 

You love him so awfully devastatingly. 

And you tell him. You tell him as he takes your left second-last finger and slides the promise ring down that digit. And you tell him again when you meet his eyes, as if for the first time all over again and jump into his arms. The diamond reflects the light, stealing it, hiding it for you and him, the size of the ring fitting so perfectly that another set of tears gush through. 

And then he’s patting your bum, telling you to open your gifts and he kneels with you on the floor and goes through each bag he got you. A red lipstick, a perfume, a black silky dress with matching stilettos—all of which he wants you to wear on a Saturday night with him to celebrate. Then, all your favorite ‘you’ things that you love. Face masks, even lip masks, bath bombs, shower gels and body creams. Fluffy socks, pajamas, granny panties. A bottle of red wine and four packs of grape ice vape. 

Jungkook leaves you stunned. And you don’t have time to process all those wonderful things because suddenly you’re up on your feet and you’re led into a rhythm of a song he begins to hum, slow dancing with you in your living room. One hand firm on your waist, the other just as firm clasped around your hand, his eyes fixed on you, mouth in that everlasting pout. 

And you fade into him. Don’t think about your mother and the hurtful things she said. They cease to exist in the atmosphere of your shared life with him, more now than ever. You focus on the stability of his grip on you, the smoothness of his hand, the tightness you feel on your waist that grounds you, your feet that get on well with his in this dance and your hips that he loves to see moving. You focus on yourself; you focus on him. On the way he dressed up for you, ironed his black shirt and on the way he still smells so good, even though he broke a sweat. 

On the way he just committed his life to you. 

And then, he’s dressing you in the pajamas he bought you. Baggy and banana-patterned, beige and yellow colored, sitting you down on your couch and lifting your legs, one by one, to keep your feet warm with your matching socks. He’s taking your make-up off, brushing your teeth and smoothing down a face mask on your forehead, cheeks and chin, pecking you sweetly. And you’re straddling him, putting the same one on the planes of his face, and as you’re focusing, he meditates on something within his heart. 

And Jungkook shares it with you, all ruffled, sleepy and puffy. 

“I love you, my little princess. For all infinity.” 

You breathe it in, believing him. 

“I love you, Jungkookie. For all infinity.” 

You fall asleep like this—on his bare chest with your face mask still on, one that he peels off after the fifteen minute mark. And you dream about what your infinity with him looks like as your age no longer matters and stops here. 

Infinitely young, infinitely loved. 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @jjk7k , @tkslovechild , @euphoricmyth , @cinmmongirl , @ririkookiemonster , @perfectiondazesworld , @https-mei , @bangtansonyeondanue , @jungkoock , @cinmmongirl , @hoseokkie-caeks , @kam9404 , @fr0ggieth1nk , @parkinglot-nights

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved

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[iluvrei]

❦︎  ꕀ　 cosmic 𓈒　⁺

[shegetsburned]

how they like to kiss you w. one piece men ˚ 𐙚 ⋆.

.sfw.

❥ they kiss you like.. a hungry beast. hands caressing your neck or tracing your jaw as they kiss you nuts. he needs to touch you - his hands on your bare skin, lips nibbling, biting, moaning into yours, while heavily breathing after. a fierce kiss that ends with a bite on the lip, soothing it with a lick.

monkey d. luffy, roronoa zoro, portgas d. ace, trafalgar law, eustass kid, killer, paulie, sir crocodile, smoker, akagami no shanks, buggy the clown, donquixote doflamingo, king, kaku, lucci, silvers rayleigh

❥ they kiss you like.. a sloppy first-timer. weak, sweaty kisses because it’s unbearably hot. it’s a greedy and messy kiss. it’s mostly tongue when he tries to push his way between your lips, firmly gripping the back of your head. a string of saliva connects your lips when you finally part.

monkey d. luffy, usopp, portgas d. ace, eustass kid, akagami no shanks, buggy the clown, donquixote doflamingo, paulie

❥ they kiss you like.. you’re a delicate flower that needs meticulous care. it’s slow. tracing your lips with a fingertip until he can’t resist any longer, tilting your chin towards him for a kiss. his thumb trailing down to your jawbone. you feel his soft touch against your skin, ever so slightly grazing it with tenderness and affection.

sanji, sabo, killer, sir crocodile, benn beckman, dracule mihawk, koza, marco, corazon

❥ they kiss you like.. a secret that’s making its way to your ears. a curious and uncertain soft kiss that turns into a fever. a gentle kiss that quickly descends into passion. a kiss so ardent, so perfect - that after you part, neither one of you can open your eyes for a few moments afterwards.

roronoa zoro, sanji, usopp, sabo, iceburg, akagami no shanks, benn beckman, koza, king, kaku, marco, corazon

❥ they kiss you like.. you’ll forget how he tastes. quick pecks here and there, finishing on the mouth. every time he leaves or comes back you’re greeted with one warm kiss. you can’t possibly escape it. he’ll tilt your head up towards him to steal one or distract you from whatever you’re doing so he can get one.

sanji, usopp, franky, trafalgar law, portgas d. ace, killer, smoker, akagami no shanks, yasopp, koza, lucci, silvers rayleigh

© shegetsburned 2024 Please do not repost/edit/or claim my writing as your own

[horror-stuff]

Source: https://pin.it/6mhogZWFS

[srslyblvck]

── secret santa,, james potter [part two]

pairing: james potter x fem!reader

synopsis: in which you become the secret santa of none other than james potter

genre: fluff

warnings: none

word count: 1.1k

part one!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ THE GIFT EXCHANGE UNFOLDED in a whirlwind of laughter and surprise. Sirius, true to form, had been uncharacteristically secretive in the days leading up to the event. That alone had set off alarms, and when he strolled into the common room pushing a large object covered in a velvet cloth on a rickety old stroller, you and Marlene exchanged knowing looks.

“Any guesses?” Marlene whispered, elbowing you as Sirius dramatically cleared his throat.

“Do we even need to guess?” you muttered back, stifling a laugh.

Sirius clapped his hands together, commanding everyone’s attention. “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, and Moony,” he said, smirking at Remus, “I present to you the pièce de résistance, the magnum opus, the most legendary Secret Santa gift in Hogwarts history!”

Remus raised an eyebrow, looking amused but wary. “I don’t know if I should be terrified or flattered.”

Sirius ignored him and grabbed the edge of the cloth. “I told them to make it bigger,” he lamented dramatically. “But they just didn’t have the time. Ah, well. Behold!”

With a flourish, he whipped the cloth away, revealing a giant chocolate wolf, standing on all fours and towering at least an inch taller than Sirius himself. The room erupted into cheers and laughter, but you and Marlene were nearly in tears, clutching each other as you tried to contain your giggles.

“Merlin’s beard,” Remus muttered, stepping closer to inspect the monstrosity. “This is... something.”

“It’s everything,” Sirius corrected, looking immensely pleased with himself. “Hand-crafted by the finest chocolatiers in Hogsmeade. The wingspan of those ears alone! Tell me it’s not perfection.”

Remus shook his head, a fond smile creeping onto his face. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously thoughtful, you mean,” Sirius replied, puffing out his chest.

The rest of the gifts followed in quick succession. Peter received a self-refilling candy jar from Dorcas, and Marlene was gifted a set of enchanted Quidditch gloves from Lily that could warm themselves in the cold. When it was your turn, Lily handed you a neatly wrapped box. Inside was a gorgeous hardcover book on advanced defensive spells, its gilded pages shimmering in the firelight.

“Lily, this is amazing,” you said, touched by the thoughtfulness of her gift.

“Well, I had some help,” Lily admitted with a smile, nodding toward James. “He said you mentioned wanting it.”

Your stomach fluttered, and you glanced over at James, who was currently distracted by Sirius poking the chocolate wolf.

After all the gifts had been opened and the wrapping paper lay scattered across the floor like confetti, someone suggested revealing the Secret Santas. Sirius, naturally, couldn’t wait to take credit for his masterpiece, and one by one, everyone admitted who they had been paired with. When it came to James, he stood and spun in place, scanning the room dramatically.

“It was you,” he declared, pointing directly at you.

The room went quiet as everyone turned to look at you, and your cheeks burned under the sudden attention. “Alright, alright,” you said, holding up your hands in surrender. “It was me.”

Before you could say anything else, James let out a whoop and launched himself across the room. You barely had time to brace yourself as he wrapped his arms around you in an exuberant hug, lifting you slightly off the ground.

“Thank you!” he said, grinning from ear to ear as he set you down. “This is brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. I’ve got the best Secret Santa ever.”

You laughed nervously, your face aflame. “It’s just a notebook and a pin, James. Don’t make such a big deal out of it.”

“Don’t make a big deal out of it?” he repeated, looking scandalized. “You’ve clearly never received socks from Sirius.”

“Oi!” Sirius interjected, but James waved him off, still beaming at you.

In the days that followed, you noticed James with the notebook everywhere. He scribbled in it during class, carried it tucked under his arm in the corridors, and even brought it to breakfast. As for the pin, he flaunted it proudly, even showing it off to Professor McGonagall one morning.

“Very nice, Potter,” McGonagall said, though the faintest smile tugged at her lips. “But I suggest you focus more on your Transfiguration essay and less on your accessories.”

James nodded solemnly but winked at you as soon as McGonagall’s back was turned.

One evening, the common room was quieter than usual, the buzz of the day fading into the crackle of the fire and the occasional rustle of pages turning. You were curled up in your favorite armchair, a book resting in your lap, utterly lost in its pages. It was one of those rare moments of peace at Hogwarts, and you relished it, unaware of the pair of hazel eyes watching you from across the room.

James had been sitting there for some time, the notebook in hand, pretending to work on what looked like Quidditch plays. In reality, he’d been sketching you. His quill moved quickly, capturing the way your hair caught the firelight, the slight furrow in your brow as you read, and the way your lips curved ever so slightly, as though you were on the edge of a smile.

He wasn’t sure why he felt compelled to draw you. Maybe it was the way you seemed to disappear into your own little world when you read, or maybe it was how your presence seemed to anchor the chaotic energy of the common room. Whatever it was, James found himself unable to look away.

Finally, when he was satisfied with the sketch, he cleared his throat softly. “Hey,” he said, his voice low so as not to startle you.

You looked up, blinking as though surfacing from a dream. “Oh, hi,” you said, setting your book down. “How long have you been sitting there?”

“Long enough,” he replied with a teasing grin. He held out the notebook. “I’ve been working on something. Want to see?”

You took the notebook hesitantly, your brows furrowing in curiosity. As you turned it toward you, your breath caught.

On the page was a drawing of you, so lifelike it felt like looking into a mirror—or maybe something better. The firelight he’d captured gave the sketch a warm glow, and every detail was perfect, from the tilt of your head to the way your fingers rested lightly on the pages of your book.

“James…” you murmured, tracing the edges of the drawing with your fingertips. “This is beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as the real thing,” he said casually, leaning back in his chair with a self-satisfied smirk.

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly, but you couldn’t stop the warmth creeping into your cheeks. “You’re insufferable.”

“True,” James said, “But at least now I’ve got a proper muse.”

James Potter was, without a doubt, impossible. But as you glanced up and caught him watching you again, you realized there was something about that impossibility that you didn’t mind one bit.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀────۶ৎ a baby..?

synopsis: you ask sirius and remus what they think about having kids, but their answer isn’t what you hoped for. hurt, you run to james and lily, unsure of what to do content warnings: hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, miscommunication, mention of pregnancy, fears of parenthood

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 1,147

The early afternoon sun was streaming through the curtains, casting a golden hue over the cozy living room as you lounged on the couch, legs draped over Sirius’ lap, Remus sipping tea from his spot on the chair beside you. You absentmindedly ran your fingers through Sirius’ hair, watching him lean into the touch, his smirk softening into something more vulnerable. Remus caught the slight shift in your expression before you even realized it was happening.

You had been thinking about this moment for days now—wondering if it was the right time to bring it up. But after spending the past week with Lily and seeing her excitement over Harry growing inside her, the yearning in your heart had only intensified. You could practically feel it in your bones now.

"Hey," you started, a little softer than usual, catching both their attention. "What do you two think about having kids?"

There was a beat of silence that followed, their reactions not immediate, which only made your heart race a little faster. Sirius quirked an eyebrow, his usual cocky grin flickering into something more unsure. Remus stiffened ever so slightly, and you noticed his fingers tighten around his mug, the faintest of trembles in his hand.

“K-kids?” Sirius echoed, the words like a foreign concept in his mouth. He glanced at Remus, the two sharing a look that wasn’t lost on you.

“Y-yeah,” Remus began, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I don’t think that’s the best idea right now.”

Your stomach dropped, the air growing heavier. You tried to play it off, giving a weak laugh. "Oh, alright. No worries, I was just—just curious."

But the lump in your throat betrayed you. There was a beat too long of quiet and you suddenly remembered how suffocating the room felt.

“Oh! Actually, I—I forgot,” you stumbled over your words, pulling your legs off Sirius and standing up quickly. “I was supposed to meet Lily and James today.”

Remus furrowed his brow, a hint of concern crossing his features. “Are you okay?”

You waved him off, grabbing your jacket and trying to keep your voice steady. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. I’ll see you later.”

The second you were outside, the cool autumn air hit your face, and your resolve shattered. Hot tears pricked at your eyes as you made your way to Lily and James’ house. How could they not understand? How could they not even entertain the idea?

James opened the door with his usual wide grin, though it faltered the moment he saw the state you were in. “Hey—whoa, what’s wrong?”

You managed a wobbly smile before your face crumpled. “I-I don’t know what to do.”

Without another word, James pulled you inside, calling for Lily. “Lils! We’ve got a situation here.”

Lily appeared moments later, cradling her swollen belly, her face lighting up with concern. “Oh, love. What happened?”

You collapsed onto the couch, and it all came pouring out—how you had asked Sirius and Remus about kids, how they had dismissed the idea like it was nothing, and how much it hurt because you already knew deep down that something was different.

“They don’t want kids,” you sobbed into your hands, feeling utterly lost. “And I just—what if they never want them? I can’t wait forever, and—"

“But do they need to want them now?” James asked, trying to make sense of your outburst.

You didn’t respond, just cried harder, until Lily placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. Her eyes softened as the realization dawned on her. “Oh, sweetheart,” she murmured, kneeling in front of you. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

Her words sliced through the fog in your mind, and you dissolved into fresh sobs, unable to deny it any longer.

James’ eyes widened in disbelief as he sat down beside you. “Bloody hell.”

For the next few days, you stayed with James and Lily, hiding away from the world—and from Sirius and Remus. Every time they sent an owl, you ignored it. Every time they came by, you pretended you weren’t home. You couldn’t bear to face them. What if they were never ready? What if this dream of yours was something they’d never want to share?

Back at home, Sirius paced anxiously while Remus stared out the window, worry etched into every line of his face.

“She’s avoiding us,” Sirius growled, frustration bubbling to the surface. “What the hell did we do?”

Remus sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It was the question. We brushed it off like it didn’t matter, but it did.”

“We can’t be ready for something like that,” Sirius muttered, his voice low. “I can’t—what if I’m like him? What if I’m just like my father?”

Remus set his mug down, his eyes clouding with his own fears. “And what if—what if it’s a full moon and the baby—what if it’s like me?”

They sat in silence, haunted by their shared doubts and insecurities, until it hit them both like a lightning bolt.

“Oh,” Sirius whispered, eyes wide. “She wasn’t asking for ‘someday.’ She was asking for now.”

It wasn’t long before there was a knock on James and Lily’s door again, only this time you couldn’t ignore it.

James opened it, looking between Sirius and Remus with a mixture of relief and exasperation. “Took you long enough,” he muttered, stepping aside to let them in.

They found you in the sitting room, curled up on the couch with a blanket wrapped around you like a shield. You didn’t look up when they entered, but you felt their presence immediately.

“Love,” Sirius started softly, coming to sit beside you while Remus hovered nearby. “We… we’ve been absolute idiots.”

You sniffled, keeping your gaze on your lap. “You think?”

Sirius winced. “Yeah, we do.”

Remus crouched in front of you, his eyes pleading. “We didn’t realize what you were trying to tell us. We didn’t understand.”

“And now that you do?” you asked, your voice trembling. “What then?”

Sirius reached for your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. “Now we tell you that we’re scared. Terrified, even. But we want this. We want a family with you.”

Remus nodded, his voice soft but steady. “We don’t have all the answers. But we’ll figure it out—together. We’re ready, if you are.”

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they weren’t from hurt. They were from hope, from the overwhelming love you had for these two men who, despite their fears, were willing to take this leap with you.

You let out a shaky breath, a small smile tugging at your lips as you whispered, “I think we’re going to be alright.”

And in that moment, with Sirius’ arms wrapped around you and Remus’ hand resting protectively on your stomach, you believed it. You were going to be more than alright.

You were going to be a family.

© iamgonnagetyouback ⋆.˚ please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my work.

[cisneroto]

ㅤㅤㅤ⠀ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⌒ㅤ  ֢ㅤ𝔉lowersㅤ𓈒꣒

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ⠀ ㅤㅤㅤ੯ ◟ 𝒫 ét ﾞa͟l͟e͟sㅤಿ꣒

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ◜࿙ㅤ 𝗉𝑜𝗋𝖼𝖾𝗅𝖺༙n ㅤ࿚◝

ㅤㅤ⠀ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ⠞ㅤ ִㅤd᥆ᥣᥣ᥉ ⠀ׂㅤ𓎟ㅤ⡷

ㅤ

[midnighvtm4ss]

Omg i absolutely loved rosemary!!! Also the fact it’s based on a Sierra Ferrell song is amazing. That brings me to my request to maybe an Arthur fic based on her song “I Could Drive You Crazy” 🤭🤭🤭 I feel like that song is so Arthur and his darling girl coded

I COULD DRIVE YOU CRAZY

cw: fluff, hunting, pre-canon, two idiots in love, arthur is crushing so hard it’s actually embarrassing

wc: 3,3k

a/n: the way I SCREAMED when I saw your request anon !! i loove Sierra Ferrell she’s one of the few artists i have constantly on repeat. Sorry I took my sweet time replying but I had to make this piece good. This is a little insight on Arthur and his darling girl pre-relationship dynamic ! Thank you for requesting and I hope you like it <3

The late noon sun bathed the camp in a cold, bright light, casting the long shadows of the nearby douglas fir trees stretching all around you as it began its slow but steady descent behind the rolling hills of the Tall Trees region as afternoon approached. The smell of woodsmoke and simmering stew filled the air, mixing with the earthy scent of pine and the faint aroma of freshly turned earth. You stood beside Pearson, by the cooking wagon. Your hands busy chopping vegetables while the man stirred the stew pot, his gruff voice occasionally muttering to himself as he adjusted the few seasonings Miss Grimshaw desperately requested to add into his infamous venison stew. Abigail stood nearby, cleaning the dishes used in the morning. Her laughter light as she shared stories about young Jack with you.

“Jack’s been askin’ after you,” Abigail said with a fond smile. “Ever since he learned how to say your name he’s been saying it non stop. Makes me miss the time when the only things he could say was ‘mama’ and random bubbling noises”

“He’s a sweet kid,”

“Yes, and a spoiled one too. No matter how much I try, he refuses to go to sleep until he hears your voice telling him a goodnight story”

You chuckled, feeling a warmth in your chest at the thought of the boy’s eager face. “I’ll have to think up a good one for him tonight, then.”

The sound of approaching hoofbeats drew your attention away from the conversation. You glanced up just in time to see the men returning from their latest job. Dust and sweat clung to them, their faces weary but carrying the unmistakable look of men who had just succeeded at their mission. Among them, a particular figure caught your eyes. Arthur Morgan dismounted with practiced ease, his broad shoulders slumped slightly by the fatigue of the day’s event. Even from a distance, his presence was commanding, a strong aura following him as he led a tired Boadicea toward the hitching post.

Even from a distance, there was something about Arthur that drew your eye—his quiet strength, the way he moved with precise purpose, his steady presence that always seemed to bring a sense of security to the camp. You watched as he handled the reins, hitching Boadicea and patting her dark brown mane, undoubtedly praising her for a job well done.

Was it possible to be jealous of a horse ?

His gaze briefly scanned the camp before it landed on you. For a fleeting moment, your eyes met, and you felt a flutter in your chest. You quickly returned your attention to a particular interesting piece of tomato you had cut, wishing for your burning cheeks to calm.

“Mister Morgan!” Pearson’s booming voice cut through the air, making you wish the earth would swallow you whole. “We’re runnin’ low on meat. Reckon we’ll last two more days with what little I have.” Pearson’s voice lowering to a more quiet tone as Arthur inched closer to the wagon. “Can you head out and bring somethin’ back before it gets dark?”

Arthur looked over at the stew pot, his face churning with an unreadable expression, then back to Pearson with a nod. “Sure, Pearson. I’ll head out now.”

As he turned to leave, something inside you stirred. You weren’t sure if it was the desire to escape the mundane tasks of camp, to immerse yourself in the unknown beauty of the wilderness or, more than that, the desire for a chance to spend time with Arthur, to learn from him, to be close to him. Nonetheless, before you could second guess your action you placed down your knife, stepping forward, the words hurriedly leaving your lips as in fear you might stop them if they took a second longer to pronounce.

“Mister Morgan,” you called out, your voice a little hesitant. “May I come with you?”

He paused, turning to face you fully. A faint hint of surprise washed over his face. His aqua eyes, always so full of depth and intensity, softened slightly as he considered your request. “You sure ‘bout that? Huntin’ ain’t exactly a walk in the woods.”

“I’d like to learn,” you insisted, your heart beating faster as you met his gaze under his worn gambler’s hat. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, a gesture that seemed almost shy. He nodded. “Alright, then. Let’s get goin’.”

It took an immeasurable amount of strength to refrain yourself from smiling brightly at the man in front of you. You promptly returned to your cutting station, untying your apron in quick movements. Abigail came closer to you, taking the apron from your hands and putting it on ready to replace you in your work. As you two locked eyes, a knowing smile adorned the brunette’s face, making you flush.

Your steps were quick as you followed Arthur to the hitching post, your Hungarian half-bred just a few feet away from Boadicea. You gently pat her, giving her a stalk of celery you stole from Pearson. Circling around to tighten the strap of your saddle you felt the heavy gaze of the outlaw follow your every move. His muscular form already mounted on his horse. You mounted your horse, not wanting to trouble Arthur and make him reconsider his decision. He cleared his throat before speaking,

“We’ll go through the woods on the left near the lake,” he stated, tutting at his horse to move forward “Mac told me he found a few deer tracks down there.”

You simply nodded, not trusting your voice to give away your feelings.

The air was cooler than the already crisp air in camp. Beneath the canopy of trees, the sun’s rays filtering through the needles of the pine trees in dappled patterns on the forest floor. The smell of pine and earth was much stronger here, mingling with the fresh scent of moss and the faint musk of animals that had passed through earlier. Arthur led the way, silent and sure, while you followed close behind, too occupied by taking in the view to initiate a conversation.

Passing through a particularly steep path Arthur signaled you to stop. He hopped down from his horse, walking a few feet forward before stopping. You copied his action. The ground beneath your boots was soft, a carpet of moss and pine needles that muted your footsteps.

“First rule of huntin’,” Arthur began, his voice low and steady as he crouched down to examine a set of tracks in the soft dirt, “is patience. Animals can sense when somethin’ ain’t right, so you gotta move slow and stay quiet.”

You nodded, kneeling beside him as you peered at the tracks. They were faint, just a few indentations in the earth, but Arthur pointed them out to you with practiced ease. The proximity of him, the way his voice dropped down on to a near whisper, sent a thrill through you that had little to do with the hunt and everything to do with the outlaw beside you.

“There,” he said, his hand brushing against yours as he pointed. “That’s a deer track. See how the hooves dig in? Means it was here not too long ago. We follow these, and we might just catch up to it.”

His touch was fleeting, but it left a warmth on your skin that lingered long after he pulled his hand away. You nodded again, trying to focus on the task at hand, reprimanding your mind for wandering to such thoughts. But it was difficult with Arthur so close, his presence almost overwhelming in its quiet intensity.

Together, you moved through the woods, following the tracks with Arthur’s guidance. You moved in silence. The woods offered you the calm noises of the rustling of leaves, the distant call of a bird, and the soft crunch of your boots on the forest floor. Every now and then, Arthur would pause, his head tilting slightly as he listened for any signs of movement, his sharp eyes scanning the space surrounding you.

Finally, after what felt like hours to you but was probably only a few minutes, you spotted the deer—a lone buck grazing in a small clearing, its head down, completely unaware of your presence. Arthur’s hand came up in front of you, motioning you to stop and you both knelt down behind a fallen mossy log, using it for cover.

He handed you his rifle, his hands steady as they helped you position it against your shoulder. His touch on you gentle, guiding you with the same care and precision he used in everything he did. You could feel his breath on your neck, making the small hairs on your nape stand up. The brim of his hat grazing your hair as the heat of his body so close to yours made your heart beat so violently that you were sure Arthur could hear it.

“Alright,” Arthur whispered, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned in even close. “Here’s where it gets tricky. You gotta stay calm, keep your breathin’ steady, and line up your shot. Don’t rush it. As long as we don’t make a sound the deer will be there. Let the moment come to you.”

“Steady now,” Arthur murmured, his voice low and soothing. You took a deep breath, the crisp air filling your lungs. “Just like that. Breathe in… and out. Always pull the trigger on empty lungs”

You tried to focus, tried to steady your breath as he instructed, but the closeness of him, the deep rumble of his voice in your ear, made it difficult to concentrate. You aimed at the deer, your finger brushing the trigger, but your hands were trembling ever so slightly.

“Breathe,” Arthur reminded you, his hand coming to rest lightly on your shoulder grounding you, steadying you from the imminent recoil of the rifle. “You’ve got this.”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the fluttering in your chest, and then you squeezed the trigger. The shot rang out, echoing through the trees.

A second passed where it was deadly silent, you opened your eyes to check on your target but your aim had been off. The bullet whizzed past the deer, embedding itself in the trunk of a nearby tree. The deer’s head shot up, and in an instant, it bolted, disappearing into the underbrush before you even had time to lower the rifle.

Your shoulders slumped in disappointment, and you let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m sorry, Mister Morgan,” you muttered, gloomily handing the rifle back to him.

But Arthur wasn’t upset. Instead, he gave you a reassuring smile, his eyes warm as he shook his head with a strange myrth. “Don’t be sorry. You did good for your first try. Takes time to get the hang of it. Deer’s easy to track but a damn tricky target, especially when you’re just startin’ out.”

His words were kind, but you couldn’t help the sense of failure that settled in your chest. You had wanted to impress him, to show him that you could be just as capable as any of the men in the gang, but instead, you had let the moment slip away making a fool of yourself in front of him. You lowered your gaze to your lap, playing with a stray cotton strand of your blouse.

“Come on,” Arthur said, standing and offering you his hand. “Let’s see if we can track somethin’ else. We’ve still got some daylight left.”

You took his hand, feeling the roughness of his warm calloused palm against yours as he pulled you to your feet. The warmth of his touch, the easy way he smiled at you, made it hard to stay upset for long. There was something about Arthur—something steady and reassuring—that made you feel like everything was going to be alright, even when things didn’t go as planned.

You dusted off your skirt, it definitely wasn’t the best clothing choice for hunting but you had little to no time changing into a more comfortable outfit. You thanked whoever was above that this week wasn’t your turn to wash the camp’s clothes. Karen sure had a great load of work ahead of her.

The two of you mounted back up on your horses and continued deeper into the forest, the trees growing denser as the light began to fade. Arthur was patient, showing you how to look for signs of wildlife, teaching you how to move quietly through the underbrush without making yourself known to the animals you were tracking. His calm demeanor, his quiet confidence, made you feel more at ease, and slowly, you found yourself relaxing into the rhythm of the hunt.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting the forest in a soft, amber glow, you spotted something moving in the distance—a wild boar, its dark shape partially hidden by the underbrush as it ate the roots of a bush near a fallen log. You felt a surge of excitement, your heart beating faster as you pointed it out to Arthur.

“There,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you hopped down from your horse. “There’s a boar!”

Arthur followed you down his horse. His eyes followed your gaze as he nodded, his gaze narrowing as he assessed the situation. “That’s a good target. Boar’s got tough skin, but he’s not too fast. You ready to give it another try?”

You nodded, your grip tightening on the rifle as Arthur handed it to you once more. This time, you felt more confident, more focused. Arthur had shown you what to do, had taught you how to read the signs, how to stay calm and patient. You could do this. You needed to do this.

You crouched down behind a bush making sure you had a clear view of the target. Arthur stayed close, his presence a steadying force as you lined up your shot. “Remember,” he said softly, his voice just above a whisper, “breathe slowly, keep your hands steady, and don’t rush it. You’ve got this.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the cool air fill your lungs as you focused on the boar. It was still rooting around, completely unaware of you and Arthur watching from the shadows. You steadied the rifle, your finger brushing the trigger, and then, with a calmness you hadn’t felt before, you squeezed.

The shot rang out, sharp and clear in the evening air. This time, your aim was true. The boar let out a sharp squeal, its body jerking as the bullet hit its mark. It staggered for a moment, and then it collapsed, its movements ceasing as it fell to the ground.

For a moment, you just stood there, staring in disbelief. You had done it. You had actually done it.

“I did it,” you whispered, a smile slowly spreading across your face as the realization sank in. “Arthur, I did it!” you said turning to face Arthur. You couldn’t believe yourself. You actually hunted down some game. A laughter came up to you, heartily and genuine.

Arthur’s face lit up with a grin, his eyes shining with pride as he clapped you on the back. “Good girl. Nice work. That’s some fine shootin’.”

His praise warmed you more than the fading sunlight ever could, and you felt a surge of joy and accomplishment. But it wasn’t just about the hunt—it was about the way Arthur was looking at you now, with a gleam in his eyes that hadn’t been there before, as if he was seeing you in a new light.

The two of you approached the poor boar, and Arthur knelt beside it, inspecting your handiwork with a nod of approval. “Perfect shot,” he said, glancing up at you from under his hat with a smile. “Damn, you’re a natural.”

Your heart swelled with pride at his words, and you couldn’t help but brightly beam at him, feeling a warmth in your chest that had little to do with the successful hunt and everything to do with the man beside you.

As Arthur worked skinning the animal and preparing the boar to transport it back to camp, you found yourself stealing glances at him. Although he was now covered in blood you couldn’t help but find him even more attractive. You watched the way the fading light played across his features, highlighting the strong lines of his jaw, the curve of his plump lips, the intensity in his eyes that seemed to soften whenever he looked your way. There was something different about the way he was acting around you now, a quiet affection in his gaze, a tenderness in his touch that hadn’t been there before.

Once the boar was ready, the two of you began to head back to camp, the weight of the animal stowed on the back of Boadicea as you carried its pelt. The forest was quiet now, the sun nearly gone, leaving the trees bathed in the soft, dusky indigo light of twilight. As you rode, side by side, you could feel the connection between you and Arthur growing stronger with each step, an unspoken bond that neither of you had to put into words growing evermore.

“Thank you for teaching me, Mister Morgan” you said softly, stopping your horse just a few feet away as the camp came into view, the warm glow of the firelight welcoming you back. The distance giving you both one last moment of privacy. “I’ve always wanted to learn, but I didn’t think I’d be any good at it.”

Arthur glanced over at you, his expression thoughtful. “You don’t need to be so formal with me now, you can call me Arthur,” he started. “Besides, you’ve got a good eye,” he said, his voice sincere. “And you listen, which is more than I can say for most people in this godforsaken gang. You did real good out there.”

The praise made your cheeks warm, and you ducked your head slightly, feeling a little shy under his gaze. “I had a good teacher.”

Arthur shook his head at that, hiding his face under the brim of his hat as he mumbled to himself something you didn’t quite catch.

“Maybe we’ll do this again sometime,” he said, his tone casual but with an underlying amusement that betrayed his carefree tone

“I’d like that,” you replied, your voice soft as the two of you approached camp, the sounds of the gang's usual chatter welcoming you back. “I’d like that a lot.”

As you helped Arthur carry the boar to Pearson, who greeted you with his usual gruffness but a nod of approval, you couldn’t help but feel that something had changed between you and Arthur. There was a new understanding, a deeper connection, something that went beyond the simple companionship you had shared before when you occasionally chatted while you worked on the camp’s chores.

As the evening wore on and the camp settled into its usual rhythm, you found yourself glancing over at Arthur, who was seated by the campfire, his gaze occasionally drifting your way. And each time your eyes met, there was a spark—a shared smile, a lingering look—that hinted at something more.

And in that moment, you knew that this was just the beginning. The beginning of something special, something that neither of you could quite put into words, but that you both felt growing with every passing moment you spent together.