#he was the first one I thought to write for in the series

[lovieku]

HANDS ON ME ⋆ 정국

𐙚 if you like what you see, baby put your hands on me.

it’s about to look like jeongguk’s birthday everyday with you.

based on this ask

from the grande series ୨ৎ

pairing: nerd!jk x popular!fem reader

genre: smut

ratings: 18+ / mdni

warnings: lower case intended, jk is inexperienced and sooo whipped, it’s his birthday!!! and he’s getting it hhhh, lowk dom!oc x sub!jk, size kink, tit play, dry humping, brief coochie play, cum eating omfg, blow job, cutest babies ever

word count: 3.9k

a/n: first thing i saw this morning was that ask, so of course i had to write this. like THANK U ANON that was such a good idea yes yes yes. hope u enjoy 🩷🩷

🏷️ perm taglist: @ceellliiinee @jaytheatiny @dolligguk @luvismenu @theyloveyams @stillwjk-channie-lixie @bookstoread199 @girlygguk @vieviela @myngiii @angelxkoo @nnybtitts08 @mpbrinkss @https-mei @lyywst @mhdelu @apobangpogirlyyy @khadeeeeej @awrkive @nooooooooonnneeeeeee @vantelover1306

────୨ৎ────

jeongguk didn’t wish for his birthday party to look like this.

the second he casually mentioned that his parents would be out of town on the very same day he would turn 21, his small friend group (consisting of the two nerdiest guys in college, probably even battling him for the top spot) took it on them to turn what he imagined would be a calm, quiet night spent with the comfort of jimin and taehyung in front of video games into a contending rival of a literal frat party. in his own house. when he never approved of it, nor asked for it.

there’s an inestimable amount of faces he has never seen before this moment, but they all seem to know him, congratulating him every time he comes in their vision. then, they go back to drinking, kissing, soft-fucking on his couch, and seemingly pumping up the volume of the music more and more with each blasting and ungraceful song.

that is probably why he’s struggling a bit more than he usually does with breathing. he’s a huge germaphobe, and having all these strangers barge into his space and lean on every possible surface with their greasy, alcohol stained hands has him close to hyperventilating.

he still hasn’t figured out how his two friends did it, but they managed to involve what looked like the whole uni into coming at jeongguk’s 21st birthday party like it was an unmissable event. it truly did seem like one, though, the birthday boy looking around in a confused awe and realizing this is all he’s ever missed from his teenage years. meh. not all that.

what really got him struggling to breathe is you. you, the most popular girl in college, talks about you on the mouths of all guys and girls in the hallways, loved yet envied by every single one of them, are here. and when you greeted him, you did so with a kiss for each of his cheeks. he stood there like he truly was going to let his lungs stop working, and you just smiled up at him through your long lashes and big eyes.

you’re not popular for the cliché reasons a girl in college might be. you’re not mean, you don’t square uncool people from head to toe with a judging look, you’re not known to be scary and unapproachable. the reason why you’re surrounded by a devoted swarm of bees is because you’re the literal definition of an angel.

an angel always ready to help anyone who seems like struggling, flash them with pearly whites, and be impossible to resist with bug, wide eyes conveying all your most honest emotions.

you’re known for genuine reasons. he’s never even heard many rumors about you, and if he did he assumed it was coming from way too envious people. the only thing he allowed himself to believe about your privacy, is that you’re very caring in bed.

he won’t admit it, feels disgusting for it, but he’s touched himself to that thought a couple of times. maybe more.

it doesn’t matter now, because you’re closer to him than you’ve ever been, and you sit in the overwhelming circle that has formed on the floor of his living room, people he has never even talked to proposing games and pushing drinks into his hand since he’s now 21.

unlike most people, that number doesn’t mean a lot to him. he’s not that thrilled about the knowledge that he can now get his hands on anything that was previously denied to him, alcohol and substances of those sorts. he never liked them, and he doesn’t think he will just because of this newfound freedom.

he’s now getting the full experience when someone, sharp-eyed and drunk on audacity, spots the wooden door to his dad’s wine cellar left slightly ajar and suggests seven minutes in heaven with the kind of enthusiasm jeongguk imagines newton felt when that apple hit his head.

on his right, jimin panics for jeongguk, “you’re not going to fuck in mr. jeon’s wine cellar.”

“who said anything about fucking?” dahye, a friend of yours, the complete opposite of you with a mean aura and sliced eyes, intervenes and has everyone laughing.

jimin rolls his eyes and plops down from where he straightened up on his knees, and jeongguk stays silent. he gave up fighting long ago, when the first drink spilled on his carpet.

he just gives a tight-lipped smile when his blonde friend tries an apologetic look, shaking his head and studying the room. jeongguk gulps when his eyes inevitably fall on yours, and he finds you already staring, an intensity he hasn’t seen often. when he’s sure he’s perfectly resembling a deer caught in headlights, you tilt your head amusedly, and he hastily focuses back down on his lap.

“well, since jimin is so afraid we’re gonna break his boyfriend’s stuff,” dahye continues, feeding off the childish chuckles coming from around her, and maybe also off jimin’s annoyed glare, “why don’t we let the birthday boy go first?”

at that, jeongguk’s head snaps up, his fluffy hair bouncing with the sudden movement, and he looks around wide eyed. he’s not sure what the game entails, he just knows something is supposed to happen, but he’s not sure exactly what the people hungrily gawking at him are expecting.

taehyung is about to add something when dahye interrupts once again, resting her hand on your lap beside her, “he can go with ___. i know that would make his day.”

sitting at her left, you’re the only one who doesn’t laugh at the sneaky implication; instead, you glare at your friend, who shrugs in response.

both jimin and taehyung fall in total silence, their eyes alarmingly looking at their friend in the middle. jeongguk seems a hundred times more panicked, but not because of the same reasons.

while his two best friends are simply excited at the prospect of jeongguk’s every dream coming true, eagerly expecting a positive answer from his mouth, jeongguk’s whole focus is on you, and your seemingly impassive face. his mind spins with haunting worries, giving at least twenty different interpretations to the way you’re looking at him, brows subtly twitching up.

he clumsily parts his lips to say something, but with absolutely no senseful thought swarming his brain, nothing comes out.

a beat of anticipated silence goes by before you gracefully stand up, all eyes following you, and even if quiet, your voice goes through the music, “let’s go, gguk.”

jeongguk loudly gulps, and he hopes the sound isn’t heard, but he doubts it since he’s receiving a scary amount of attention that goes over what he’s received his whole life.

if it wasn’t for the two guys at his sides pushing him to stand up, he would have stayed with his ass perched to the floor. instead, he stumbles and almost trips, meeting your eyes with awkward shame as you just softly smile at his gawkiness.

you don’t wait for him, daintily walking to the room victim of the game, pushing the door open and curiously peeking inside. jeongguk hastily jumps over the people sitting on the ground, still quietly observing the scene, and he’s at your side way faster than the time it took for him to even realize what was about to happen.

he exhales loudly at the proximity, standing behind you and basking in the height difference, your head barely reaching his chest, and he thinks he truly sees heaven when you turn around to look up at him, grinning delicately as you tilt your head back, “wanna go in?”

jeongguk is sure he has lost the capability to speak. no matter the sounds he tries to force up his throat, they’re not strong enough to fight their way out. he simply closes the door behind the two of you, and he’s glad when it significantly helps drown out the loud music and drunkish chatter.

he’s less glad for it when it means he’s officially left alone with you in a relatively cramped space, the silence almost more suffocating than the room and its strong smell. but he’s convinced you must be an angel when you don’t complain, not even slightly, your face the expression of composure.

he stands in the middle of the cellar while you explore it in a circle, letting your heels click on the parquet floor and your fingers carefully brush the wine bottles.

the simple action makes him feel hot, naughty mind conjuring up images of you tracing his skin with such care, and he releases a shaky breath before you can stop him, blurting his messy thoughts out, “we— we don’t have— have to do anyt—”

“sit on that stool, gguk.”

the command is anything but harsh, your voice a soft melody of calmness, but it still startles him. no, it shakes something in his chest, traveling all the way down to where he’s starting to feel a strong urge.

you point to a wooden stool in the corner of the room, which doesn’t look too high, but when he obediently goes to sit on it with his knees wobbling, you promptly place yourself in front of him and grin at the way he’s still almost at face level with you, his forehead reaching only a little under your chin.

his huge proportions compared to yours have always managed to make your head spin and thighs squeeze together whenever you managed to sit next to him in the few lectures you shared, lashes fluttering seductively to have him fix nonexistent bugs on your computer just to see his wide hand close to yours on the keyboard.

now, with his puppy eyes staring up at you expectantly, his drawn up brows only emphasizing his yearning, you need to steady yourself with hands on his shoulder to hold back from quite literally grinding on him. you whisper, “good.”

his orbs shake impossibly more, and from the corner of your eye you see his fingers fidgeting in his lap, fighting a delirious need. his legs are spread just enough for you to be standing right in the middle of them, but you push yourself further into him, his chin lifting up even higher to never be forced to look away from your firm gaze, hanging from your lips when you voice an apology, “i didn’t bring a gift, ggukkie.”

jeongguk is almost panting, the endearing nicknames only adding to the warmth of your sweet body, your vanilla scent clouding his senses and gouging the truth out of him, “th—that’s okay, ___. i—i’m very happy you’re here.”

you smile, but it’s one he’s never seen on you. it’s not one of those you flash when you’re grateful, understanding, or even amused. it’s mischievous, almost belittling. “are you saying i’m your gift?”

his eyes widen, and he’s ashamed of the way your accusative tone causes him to throb in his jeans, and in his speech too, “huh— oh my god. i’m so sorry. that must sound so—”

you chuckle, stroking his broad back with your hands sliding across his width, “hey, slow down. it sounds so very cute coming from your lips.”

jeongguk appreciates your efforts at trying to put him at ease, truly. but your soothing touch and words only have him in a state of alert, even more when your fingers travel up his nape and find home in his locks. you’re impossibly close now, and he feels your voice resounding within him, “but i’m still not satisfied. i wanna give you more, make you forgive me.”

your whisper fans over his lips, and he unconsciously parts them for you, his eyes hooded by the second and glassed over with desperate want. you smirk.

stepping back enough for his neck to rest at a comfortable angle, he whimpers deliciously at the loss of your touch, but you shut him up just as quickly when your dress is off you and on the wooden floor in a swift motion.

jeongguk is definitely panting now, breathing manually and focusing too much on having his heart pump oxygen for him rather than the view of your exposed body in front of him.

he gradually realizes he could care less about dying right now if it means the last thing he’s going to be faced with is your nipples hardening with the cool, and hopefully something else, and your lacy white panties barely covering your core.

jeongguk stares like a starved man being met with his first meal after weeks of seeking, his hands trembling on his thighs and squeezing into suppressing fists.

his gasp turns into an awfully high-pitched moan when you hook a finger under the hem of your lingerie, sliding it daintily down your legs and walking out of it, never breaking eye contact with him. only thing you’re left with are your high heeled boots.

the next thing you do has the organs that keep all his vital functions going completely stop working, his heart missing more than ten beats and catching up with an alarmingly fast speed, causing his voice to shake, “___, wh—what are you—”

swinging one of your legs, you sit on him with your ingloriously stained panties pressing right on his crotch, hands placed back on the base of his neck, basking in the way you can feel his rapid beating under your fingers.

you lean into his ear, “if you like what you see, you can put your hands on me, baby.”

jeongguk throws his head back for air, his chest heaving with trembling exhales before he finds your eyes again, and in the fraction of second he needed to look elsewhere if he didn’t want to bust in his tight pants already, you’re a whole different person.

your eyes are sliced, pupils blown and hooded, and your parted lips stretch just enough to paint a wicked smirk over your face, its effects flooding right down his stomach and making you feel his hardness through the material.

his hands dance a panicked rhythm hovering over your sides, not sure what to do, not deeming himself deserving of feeling your skin under his touch. but you take it upon yourself to guide them, pressing his palms against your hips and letting them ride up your exposed breasts.

he whimpers, fingertips unconsciously testing the sense of the soft curve of your boobs with a subtle press, but it’s not enough. you can’t feel him.

with your hands still on his, you arch yourself further into his touch and have his thumbs slice over your sensitive nubs, letting out a moan of your own that goes over his low groan. you lick your lips and struggle to find your breath and words too, but you whisper them through an already too fucked out smile, “see? you can touch me, just like that.”

the go-ahead is all he needs for him to dive his head right into your chest, his tongue catching your nipple in an unpracticed hunger, messily sucking on it and quickly leaving your skin soaked with spit. he works clumsily with his hand on your other tit, movements uncoordinated and unsure.

but the fact that he seems to not care about his inexperience, willing to learn right at this moment all it takes for you to keep whimpering and trembling when he touches, has your usually composed senses lost in a haze of desire, the need to give your all to the nerdy boy that is finally being properly touched just as he turns 21 clouding your senses and pushing you to unconsciously buck your hips against his.

he moans with his mouth full of you, his free hand gripping your thigh, and he tries to stop it but he can’t help the way he meets your grinding, snapping up as if he lost all sort of control over his body. he quite literally wails in desperation, “fuck— don’t— don’t do that. i’m gonna— oh, god.”

“you’re gonna cum?” you sound just as crazed, hips rutting at a faster speed on him, the slickness smearing all over his jeans and leaving a wet patch right where his dick stays confined.

“no! i— i mean, just give me a second, shit. i swear, i—”

“ggukkie, this is about you. i’ll make you cum, hm? how’s that sound?” the sweet sound of your promise has him seeing stars, eyes squeezing shut as he feels himself getting close to a point he doesn’t think he’s ever reached before.

until he’s back to zero.

you lift your hips off his, helping your weight up by placing your hands on his broad shoulders, and you sport a devilish smile when he opens his eyes again, protest ready on his tongue. his brows are furrowed and there’s tears ready to spill out from his eyelids, but you don’t let them.

the huge palm that was still fondling your breast is now being led by you further down, until it disappears between you. you have him cup your wet core, the intensity of the moment only heightened by your gaze never leaving his, “touch me.”

when panic flashes over his expression once again, you instruct him through it just how you did minutes before, and he quickly gets the hang of it. you always appreciated him being a fast learner, but you couldn’t imagine that it would come handy in a scenario like this one.

you hum when his ring and middle finger trace your slit, only to come up to try and find your clit in a surprisingly good attempt, “good, get all of it. make your hand wet.”

the moment squelching sounds reach your ears, you leave your seat from his lap and stand on your heels again. he whines, unknowingly reaching for you, but you halt his hand and redirect it on the zipper of his jeans. you tilt your chin, “take them off.”

he’s quicker than he was at the beginning of his seven minutes in heaven now, freeing himself from the tight pants, boxers going along with it, and his cock springs free deliciously, standing tall and proud against his tummy.

you groan, almost already falling to your knees like you are planning to do soon. it’s an adjective you don’t think you’ve ever used on any of the guys you’ve been with, but jeongguk’s cock is pretty. its pink tip matches his lips, swollen from the harsh biting, and it doesn’t look rough. it has just the perfect length, girth, and when it twitches under your awe, you see it bend subtly to the right.

you smile, meeting his face again, delirious need written all over it, “stroke your cock with the hand you touched me with,” the second the order is out your lips, he’s already working himself. you can see him trying to go at a merciful speed, his grip loose, and it makes you grin amusedly, “mh, aren’t you so obedient. let me have a taste, gguk.”

you clearly have noticed that he’s not as quick on his feet as he usually is, brain clouded, so you once again take it upon yourself to lead his hand, this time introducing two of his fingers in your warm mouth. you hum loudly around the thick digits, eyes rolling back, and you speak around them, “fuck, you wanna try that?”

you don’t wait for him to reply, knowing it would get him minutes that you sadly don’t have to formulate a senseful answer, and you simply feed him his own fingers, carefully watching the way he lets his cheek hollow around them. you chuckle feverishly, “we taste so good together, don’t we?”

he nods eagerly, eyes glassy with more tears, and you think you can see one drop at the side of his face just as you fall to your knees in front of his seated body, your pretty figure even smaller from his view, and he’s graced with your bug eyes staring up at him through long lashes.

you don’t waste any more time, knowing there’s not much left in the heaven you’ve created for your own, and you wrap your ravenous mouth around him, showing none of the previous mercy in your speed.

he lets his mouth hang open, moans uncontrollably loud, and he needs to grab the sides of his stool to get the illusion of some sort of power still left within him. he closes his eyes in bliss, but quickly snaps them open when he realizes what he’s missing.

you’re bobbing your head up and down his length, and you still manage to maintain that dainty elegance that characterizes you, slim fingers gripping around the base and making up for the spots you can’t reach. he pants on the verge of a heart attack, pitch high as he begs, “fuck. look— look up at me, please.”

you do, aligning yourself better to meet his frenzied state, eyes communicating all the words you can’t say, too engaged in having him unravel all over your lips. he groans at the eye contact, thinking back to all the times he’s seen this exact scene flash behind his closed eyelids, and he’s a fool for even believing his mere imagination could compare.

it will never be enough, never again. not after this. not after knowing what you look like as you devote yourself to him, precise movements getting him closer, the way your tongue flickers out to reach down further and how you let his tip meet the back of your throat finally causing him to snap his hips up involuntarily, and before he can say something to warn you, he’s painting your warm mouth with his cum.

ropes of white, hot liquid spill out from you, but you promptly collect all of it, making sure not a single drop is missed, gulping it down with eager want. you wordlessly smile up at him, infatuated with the way his chest heaves and his lips part, trying to regain some composure.

he thinks he will need hours to fully recover. and he’s not even sure he wants this moment to end, blurting his predominant thought out before he knows it, “i wanna make you feel good, too.”

you chuckle as you get up, quickly soothing your knees before collecting your panties from the ground and walking back inside them, “it’s okay, baby. this was my birthday gift for you, hm? besides, we don’t have much time left before the others come in.”

“but…”

jeongguk helplessly watches as you get dressed, cringing at the stickiness of your wet core but nonetheless slipping your flowy dress back on. he just had the best orgasm of his life from the girl he firmly believes to be the love of his life, and he doesn’t get to give it back. oh, he feels like an absolute asshole.

you seem to read it all simply by scanning his face fondly, words soft, “that doesn’t mean you won’t get to do that, you cute boy. you will, and soon.”

when you’re done fixing the creases over your clothes, you walk to him and help him back in his jeans. tucking his softening length in, you lift up the zip of his pants and you’re glad for the way the patch of your wetness seems to have dried.

standing between his spread legs, you brush a hand through his hair, tenderly watching the way his curls fall and tickle his forehead. you smile and whisper quietly, “i got your number from dahye. i’ll text you, okay?”

he gulps, nodding hastily at your rhetorical question and feeling the blush creep up his neck. god, he must look like a total fool, “o—okay…”

humming lowly, you press your lips to his cheek, then to the tip of his nose, “you’re so pretty, you know that? don’t be sad.” next, your mouth rests on his, molding in a kiss that has his eyes shooting wide, and that ends way before he can even realize what’s happening. you chuckle at his expression, and you can’t resist another peck before promising, “happy birthday, gguk.”

[theetherealbloom]

Don't Stop Talking To Me, And Maybe Stay Here Forever

Summary: You join Pedro Pascal in Morocco while he’s filming Gladiator 2. Between the beauty of the Moroccan landscape, the two of you share intimate moments, from quiet rooftop dinners to playful photo-taking and teasing with the cast.

Or… “I'll hold you, I'll know you. I'll never leave out the back door. And I'd love to complete you, hope you get all you could ask for.”

I just read your latest pedro fic it was the BEST DAMN THING i’ve ever read, my heart is going to burst out of my chest from all the butterflies 🦋🫠❤️ will you write more for pedro? perhaps his gf could visit him in marocco or something while he’s filming gladiator and to meet everyone from set and maybe have some alone quality time? :3 just a suggestion 😌 anyways have a lovely dayyy ^^ — anon

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Established Relationship, Age-Gap(ish), TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Cheesy Dialogue, Cuddling, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Social Media, Embarrassment, Teasing, Shower, Slight Nudity, Make Out Session, Celebrities

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Okay, so, we’ve all seen the photo dumps!??!! Yes! GREAT! I haven’t watched Gladiator 2 cause it isn’t out yet in my country, so there’ll be no spoilers here mhmhmhmhm. I’m just gonna make stuff up based on the pictures Pedro posted on his Instagram lol. And again, this is all made-up, fictional, self-indulgent vibes so pls no one come after me ahhhhhh T^T

Also lowkey, I can see multiple parts to this so… stay tuned.

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Songs: Packing It Up by Gracie Abrams, this is how you fall in love by Jeremy Zucker and Chelsea Cutler

gif by @a7estrellas

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OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — DAY

The warm Moroccan breeze kissed your skin as you stepped onto the bustling set of Gladiator 2. Pedro’s laughter echoed from somewhere nearby, his distinct voice easy to pick out over the hum of activity. Your heart swelled just hearing it. He was always magnetic, but here—working, immersed in a world of creativity and camaraderie—he was luminous.  

You adjusted your sunglasses, feeling both excited and slightly anxious. Meeting Pedro’s castmates felt like stepping into his other life, one where you weren’t the center of his world but a welcome visitor orbiting it. He’d reassured you endlessly. “They’ll love you. I mean, how could they not?” But still, nerves lingered.  

“Mi amor!” Pedro’s voice cut through your thoughts. He emerged from behind a cluster of tents, his smile so wide it could eclipse the Moroccan sun.  

“Hey, stranger.” You grinned, letting him sweep you into a tight hug.  

He pulled back just enough to press a kiss to your forehead, his arms still firmly around your waist. “You made it,” he whispered, his lips brushing your temple.  

“Of course, I made it,” you teased, tilting your head to look up at him. “I missed you too much to stay away.”  

The day unfolded in bursts of joy.  

Pedro introduced you to Coco Ullrich, Paul Mescal, and the rest of the cast. Everyone was warm and welcoming, their teasing camaraderie quickly drawing you in. Pedro stayed close, his hand finding yours at every opportunity, like he couldn’t stand to be too far away.  

Later, you found yourself perched on a stool in the makeup trailer, Pedro sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you. “Hold still,” you said, trying to fix his disheveled hair.  

Coco stood nearby, laughing as Pedro playfully swatted at your hands. “I’m serious, guapo! You’ll go out there looking like you just rolled out of bed.”  

“Maybe I did roll out of bed,” he quipped, grinning.  

You raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t, but if you keep squirming, I’m going to make sure you look like it.”  

Coco shook her head, still laughing. “I don’t know how you put up with him.”  

“I have my ways,” you said, giving Pedro a mock glare.  

Pedro leaned closer, his eyes softening. “You’re lucky I love you,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours before you could stop him.  

“Pedro!” you protested, laughing as he pulled you into a full kiss, distracting you from your task.  

“Hopeless,” Coco muttered, snapping a quick photo of the moment.  

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — SUNSET

The Moroccan sunset painted the sky in hues of gold and rose as you, Pedro, and the cast settled onto the soft blankets laid out for an impromptu picnic. The sprawling desert seemed to stretch infinitely, its serene stillness a striking contrast to the chaotic energy of the set. A light breeze rustled through the palm trees in the distance, carrying the faint sound of laughter and the clinking of glasses.

Pedro sat behind you, his arms comfortably wrapped around your waist as you leaned back into his chest. His fingertips absentmindedly traced small, lazy circles on your bare skin where your shirt had ridden up slightly. It was a touch that grounded you, soothing and sweet, and yet it made your heart ache with affection.

“This is perfect,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it louder might shatter the fragile beauty of the moment.

Pedro leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear. “No, you’re perfect,” he said softly, his voice laced with adoration.

You turned your head to look at him, catching the warmth in his gaze. He looked at you like you hung the very stars above, and your cheeks flushed. “Cheesy,” you teased, though you couldn’t keep the smile off your face.

“Honest,” he countered, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. His nose nudged yours affectionately, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you.

Paul Mescal, lounging nearby with a bottle of something cold in his hand, cleared his throat dramatically. “Alright, lovebirds, can you save the smoldering for the cameras? Some of us are trying to enjoy the sunset without third-wheeling your Notebook audition.”

Coco Ullrich snorted from her spot on the blanket, where she was busy assembling a makeshift charcuterie board. “Please, Paul, don’t act like you’re not taking notes for your own love scenes.”

Paul shot her a deadpan look. “What’s there to take notes on? I’m already perfect.”

“Debatable,” Coco quipped, popping a grape into her mouth and grinning.  

Pedro chuckled, his chest rumbling against your back. “Paul, don’t be jealous. You already found someone who tolerates you.”  

“Oh, I’m not jealous,” Paul said, gesturing between you and Pedro. “I’m inspired. The level of clinginess you two have achieved—it’s an art form.”  

“Clinginess?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.  

“Yes, clinginess,” Paul said, smirking. “He hasn’t let go of you since you got here. It’s like watching a koala in human form.”

Coco leaned in conspiratorially. “Do you think he’d survive a day without her?”  

“Doubtful,” Paul replied, his tone grave.  

Pedro shook his head, his arms tightening around you playfully. “Let them joke,” he said into your ear, his voice a low murmur. “They’re just bitter they don’t have their partners to hold them while they complain about the heat.”  

You turned your head slightly to whisper back, “I think they’re projecting.”  

Pedro laughed, loud and unabashed, and the sound sent warmth flooding through you.  

“Alright, enough roasting Pedro,” Coco said, waving her hands. “Let’s focus on the important stuff��like this cheese board I’m absolutely nailing.”

“Coco, you put a block of cheese next to some crackers,” Paul pointed out.  

“And yet, it’s still better than anything you’ve contributed,” she shot back.

You couldn’t help but laugh as they continued to bicker, the dynamic between the cast a perfect blend of teasing and genuine affection. It felt good to be a part of this world for a little while, to see Pedro in his element and to share these small, beautiful moments with the people who meant so much to him.  

As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky with deeper hues of crimson and violet, Pedro shifted slightly behind you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You doing okay, sweetheart?” he asked softly, his voice meant just for you.

“I’m better than okay,” you said, turning your face to his. “This is one of those moments I’ll never forget.”

“Same,” he replied, his eyes searching yours. “But mostly because you’re here.”

Paul groaned from across the blanket. “Seriously, someone hand me a bucket. I can’t handle this level of sap.”

“You’re just missing Gracie,” Coco teased, tossing a cracker at Paul with a sly grin.  

Paul caught it mid-air with a dramatic flourish. “She’s the love of my life, thank you very much. I’m thriving, just long-distance thriving.” His wide smile softened slightly, a dreamy look crossing his face.  

Pedro chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder as he held you closer. “See, even Paul can be romantic. It’s not just us being disgustingly in love.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Paul said, waving him off, though the grin never left his face. “But you two are setting the bar impossibly high. Stop making the rest of us look bad.”

Coco shook her head with mock exasperation. “Let’s face it, no one can compete with Pedro’s clingy koala act.”  

“Hey, it’s not clingy if it’s mutual,” you chimed in, leaning back into Pedro’s embrace.  

“Exactly!” Pedro said, kissing the side of your neck for emphasis. “This is just... efficient affection.”  

“Efficient affection?” Coco repeated, laughing so hard she nearly knocked over the cheese board. “That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard.”

Pedro shrugged, utterly unbothered, his lips brushing your temple as he murmured, “Don’t let them ruin this for us.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you whispered back, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his jaw.  

The first stars began to dot the darkening sky, their glow faint but steady against the fading hues of gold and rose. The laughter of the group blended with the soothing whisper of the desert breeze, wrapping the evening in a cocoon of warmth and love.

You let out a contented sigh, your fingers intertwining with Pedro’s. These moments—filled with jokes, tenderness, and the quiet magic of a Moroccan sunset—were the kind you knew you’d carry with you forever.

THE NEXT DAY

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – AFTERNOON  

The afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting warm golden light over the sprawling desert set. The faint hum of activity outside the large tent provided a calming backdrop as you and Pedro sat together, stealing a moment away from the chaos of production.  

Pedro’s lap had become your designated resting place, his arms wrapped snugly around your waist as you leaned into him. You had been quietly chatting about the day—how stunning the desert looked on camera, how Paul had stolen one of Coco’s snacks during a break—when the warmth of the afternoon began to lull you both into sleep.  

His hand moved lazily up and down your back, the motion soothing as his voice grew quieter, more relaxed. “You know,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, “this might be my favorite part of the day.”  

“Falling asleep during work?” you teased, your voice soft and playful.  

“Falling asleep with you,” he corrected, his smile audible in his words.  

It wasn’t long before exhaustion claimed you both, your head tucked under his chin and his cheek resting against your hair. The quiet hum of the tent became a comforting cocoon, and time seemed to stretch and blur.  

The sound of muffled laughter stirred you from sleep, pulling you out of the warm haze. You blinked against the light, realizing you were still tucked into Pedro’s chest, his arms holding you close even as he began to wake.  

“Don’t move,” a familiar voice called. You turned your head to see Paul Mescal standing a few feet away, phone in hand, his grin wide and mischievous.  

Next to him, Coco Ullrich smirked as she aimed her phone at the two of you. “We’re documenting history here. You’ll thank us later.”  

Pedro stirred, squinting at them through his grogginess. “Seriously?” His voice was raspy, a mix of sleep and disbelief.  

Paul shrugged, grinning even wider as he showed Pedro the photo. “We couldn’t resist. Look at this. It’s like a promo poster for the most annoyingly sweet rom-com ever.”  

Pedro glanced at the photo, then at you, and laughed softly. “We should use that for the holiday cards this year.”  

You groaned, burying your face in his chest. “This is so embarrassing. They’re never going to let us live this down.”  

Coco laughed, flipping through her photos. “Oh, it’s way too late for that. I’m sending this to the group chat and the PR team. They’ll love it.”  

“Please don’t,” you pleaded, your voice muffled against Pedro’s shirt.  

Paul tilted his head dramatically. “Why not? It’s just a little fun. Besides, you two are giving us all cavities with how sweet you are. We’re suffering.”  

Pedro smirked, holding you a little tighter. “You’re suffering? Sounds like a personal problem.”  

“Alright, alright, enough!” A gravelly voice interrupted, and you looked up to see Ridley Scott standing at the edge of the tent. His hands were on his hips, but the amused twinkle in his eye gave him away.  

“Ridley,” you started, your cheeks flushing with heat. “I’m so sorry—”  

He held up a hand to stop you, his smirk growing. “Don’t apologize. If anything, I should thank you. Pedro’s been suspiciously well-behaved since you arrived. But,” he added with a pointed glance at Pedro, “if this keeps up, we’ll have to rename the film The Gladiator and the Muse. Production’s going to take twice as long.”  

The crew burst into laughter, and you buried your face back in Pedro’s chest, groaning. “This is officially the most embarrassing moment of my life.”  

Pedro chuckled, his hand brushing gently over your back. “Embarrassing? Nah. You’re the best thing about being here.”  

You peeked up at him, your cheeks still warm, and saw the sincerity in his eyes. “You mean that?”  

“Every word,” he said, his voice soft. “You make everything easier, better… you make it all worth it.”  

Your heart swelled, and a small smile broke through your embarrassment. “Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll try to believe you.”  

“Believe me,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.  

Paul groaned, breaking the tender moment. “Someone get a camera crew. We’re turning this into a reality show. Lovebirds in the Desert.”  

Pedro laughed, finally standing and pulling you to your feet. “Careful, Paul. You might not survive the sequel.”  

Ridley clapped his hands, his voice carrying over the lingering laughter. “Alright, lovebirds, enough stalling. Let’s get back to work! Pedro, we’ve got a fight scene to shoot.”  

Pedro gave you one last reassuring smile before winking. “Don’t go far. I’ll need more luck soon.”  

You nodded, watching him head back to set, and felt a sense of warmth that no amount of teasing could dampen. As you stepped out of the tent, the desert sun shining overhead, you knew this moment—this strange, beautiful mix of chaos and love—was one you’d carry with you forever.

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – EVENING  

The rooftop restaurant was like something out of a dream. Lanterns hung delicately from wrought iron fixtures, casting warm, flickering light over the table as the sun dipped below the horizon. The air was cool but pleasant, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from a nearby garden. Below, the city of Marrakech stretched out in an intricate maze of rooftops and twinkling lights, the hum of life soft and distant.  

Pedro had arranged everything, from the secluded corner table to the small vase of your favorite flowers waiting when you arrived. He always had a way of making even the simplest moments feel like magic.  

“Look at this view,” you murmured, leaning against the wrought iron railing as the sky turned from gold to a deep, dusky pink.  

Pedro stood close behind you, his hand resting gently on the small of your back. “The view’s got nothing on you,” he said softly, the teasing lilt in his voice balanced by the sincerity in his eyes.  

You laughed, shaking your head as you turned to face him. “That’s a terrible line.”  

“Maybe,” he admitted, grinning as he pulled out his phone. “But it’s true. Hold still.”  

Before you could protest, he snapped a photo, catching you mid-laugh as you tried to dodge the camera. “Pedro!” you groaned, your cheeks warming.  

He chuckled, looking at the photo with a self-satisfied smile. “Perfect. Might frame this one.”  

“Stop it,” you said, trying to grab the phone from him, but he held it out of reach, his grin only widening.  

“Never,” he replied, his free hand reaching across the table to take yours. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, and his gaze softened. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”  

Your stomach fluttered at the way he said it—no teasing this time, just quiet, earnest affection.  

“Now you’re just being unfair,” you muttered, trying to hide your blush.  

Pedro leaned forward, his head tilting slightly as if to study you closer. “Not unfair. Just honest.”  

You rolled your eyes playfully, but your heart was pounding. In a bid to regain some ground, you grabbed your own phone and quickly snapped a picture of him just as he brought your hand to his lips. The resulting photo was unfairly good—his lashes long, the lantern light catching the gold in his eyes, the softness in his expression making your chest ache.  

“Got you,” you said triumphantly, holding up the phone.  

Pedro laughed, his thumb brushing over your knuckles again as he met your gaze. “Now we’re even?”  

“Now we’re even,” you confirmed, though your grin gave away how smug you felt.  

The waiter arrived with dessert just then—a delicate plate of Moroccan pastries accompanied by a small bowl of honey and almonds. You both leaned forward at the same time, reaching for the same pastry, and burst into laughter when your fingers brushed.  

“Go ahead,” Pedro said, gesturing gallantly.  

“Such a gentleman,” you teased, breaking off a piece of the pastry and dipping it into the honey. You held it up to his lips, your pulse skipping when he leaned in without hesitation.  

“Delicious,” he said, his voice low and warm. “But I think it tastes better coming from you.”  

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, trying to suppress a smile as you took a bite yourself. The flaky pastry melted on your tongue, its sweetness perfectly balanced by the honey.  

As you shared the dessert, your conversation drifted from playful teasing to the little things that filled your days. Pedro told you about a funny moment on set earlier when Paul had forgotten his lines and improvised something so absurd even Ridley couldn’t stop laughing.  

“And then,” Pedro continued, his grin infectious, “he tried to blame me, saying my face was too distracting.”  

“Well, he’s not wrong,” you teased, earning a dramatic roll of Pedro’s eyes.  

“Oh, so now you’re on his side?”  

“I’m on the side of the truth,” you said, popping an almond into your mouth.  

Pedro chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”  

Your smile softened, and you leaned your chin on your hand as you looked at him. “Probably still charming everyone who crosses your path.”  

“Not like this,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. He reached across the table again, his fingers lacing with yours. “You make everything better. You make me better.”  

Your throat tightened at the rawness in his voice, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, his words settling deep in your chest.  

“You do the same for me,” you said quietly.  

The soft music playing in the background faded into the hum of the city as the two of you sat there, the world narrowing to just this moment. Pedro brought your hand to his lips again, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before resting your joined hands on the table.  

As the night stretched on, the two of you continued to talk about everything and nothing—your favorite childhood memories, the places you wanted to visit together, the little quirks you loved about each other.  

When it was time to leave, Pedro stood and extended a hand to help you up. “One last picture before we go?” he asked, his phone already in hand.  

You nodded, letting him pull you into his side. The lanterns glowed softly behind you as he kissed your cheek just as the camera clicked.  

Looking at the photo, you smiled. It was perfect—just like this night, just like him. 

L’HÔTEL MARRAKECH, MOROCCO – EVENING

The golden hues of the evening sun had long faded, leaving the hotel suite illuminated only by the soft glow of warm, ambient lighting. Laughter filled the room, bubbling up between stolen glances and playful teasing. Pedro leaned against the edge of the plush sofa, his hand resting casually on his hip as you doubled over with giggles at another one of his overly dramatic impressions. 

“I’m just saying,” he said with a grin, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “If anyone here is getting an Oscar for Most Entertaining Human, it’s me.”

You rolled your eyes, swatting at him lightly. “You? Entertaining? Please. You’re just lucky I think you’re cute.”

“Just cute?” he teased, his voice dropping into a low, mock-hurt murmur. He stepped closer, tilting his head. “That’s disappointing.”

And just like that, with no warning, he took your hand and spun you gently into his arms. There was no music, no sound but the faint rustle of the curtains and the muted hum of life outside your window. But to Pedro, there was no need for anything more. 

“Dance with me,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, pulling you flush against him.

“Pedro,” you started to protest, but the way he was looking at you—so earnest, so unguarded—stole the words from your lips. He rested his forehead against yours, his arms wrapping around you like he was afraid to let go. 

“You are the reason I can breathe,” he murmured. His voice cracked slightly, raw and unfiltered. “The reason I can survive.”

Your chest tightened, and your hands gripped the soft cotton of his shirt as you closed your eyes. Slowly, the two of you began to sway, side to side, as if the universe itself had orchestrated this silent melody just for you.

“Pedro,” you whispered, tears threatening to spill as the weight of his words sank deep into your soul. “You don’t have to—”

“Shh.” He cut you off gently, his lips brushing the crown of your head. “I want to. You’re my safe place.”

Together, you moved as one, the world outside forgotten. The phones were switched off, the curtains drawn, and for a moment, it felt like time had ceased to exist. All that mattered was this—his arms around you, your head resting on his chest, and the way his heartbeat felt steady and strong beneath your cheek.

“What’s easy is right,” you whispered suddenly, echoing words your mother had once said. The truth of it struck you in that moment, how being with Pedro never felt like a choice—it was instinct. Like breathing. Like coming home. 

Pedro smiled, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “What’s easy is right,” he repeated softly. “Then I guess it’s easy to know... I’m going to love you forever.”

You laughed softly, though the lump in your throat made it difficult. “Forever’s a long time.”

He tilted your chin up, his warm, brown eyes crinkling at the corners with a quiet joy. “Not nearly long enough,” he said, his voice a low promise. “You’ll be my best friend until we’re old and gray. And even then, I’ll still love you.”

There was something in the way he said it—so simple, so sure—that your knees nearly gave out. But as always, Pedro was there, holding you steady, keeping you close. 

This is how you fall in love, you realized. Not in a blaze of fireworks, but in the quiet moments where you let go and they hold you up. 

“Do you know what you’ve done to me?” Pedro said after a long silence, his voice filled with wonder. “You make my stomach ache with hope. You make my hands stop shaking. I wake up smiling now, and it’s because of you.”

You bit your lip, your fingers tracing lazy patterns across his chest. “Pedro…”

“No, listen to me,” he insisted, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Love isn’t supposed to be heavy. It’s not supposed to hurt. It’s supposed to be this. Us. A safe place. A hand to hold through every storm.”

His words broke something open inside you, and you nodded, letting the tears spill over. “You’re my safe place too,” you whispered. “You make me believe I deserve this.”

Pedro pulled you closer, resting his chin on the top of your head as he swayed you gently. “You deserve everything,” he murmured. “Every laugh, every sunrise, every stupid little joke I’ll tell for the next fifty years.”

You both laughed softly, the sound mingling with the quiet hum of the room. The world outside could wait. For now, all that mattered was this moment—this love that was soft, steady, and unshakable.

Right from your hips to your cuticles, you were everything to him, and he was everything to you. Wherever you both went, it was heaven. And neither of you ever wanted to leave. 

Steam filled the bathroom, the warmth clinging to the mirrors and wrapping around the two of you like a soft cocoon. Pedro stood under the cascade of water, droplets running down his broad shoulders and soaking his messy curls. His eyes flicked toward you, a tender smile tugging at his lips as you stepped closer, your fingers gently reaching for the shampoo bottle.  

“Turn around,” you said softly, motioning for him to face away from you.  

“Yes, ma’am,” he teased, though there was a hint of shyness in his voice as he obeyed.  

You lathered the shampoo between your hands, your touch careful and affectionate as you worked it into his hair. His curls were soft and damp beneath your fingers, the grays glinting like silver in the dim light.  

“I love your hair,” you murmured, your voice reverent.  

Pedro let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle, tilting his head back slightly. “The gray makes me look old.”  

You paused, your hands stilling in his hair as you leaned around to catch his gaze. “Stop that. It doesn’t make you look old; it makes you look distinguished. And I happen to love every single one of these.” You tugged playfully at a curl for emphasis.  

He gave you a sheepish look, his lips twitching as he fought back a pout. “You’re just saying that because you’re stuck with me.”  

“Stuck with you?” you repeated, feigning outrage. “Oh, no, Pedro. I chose you—gray hair and all. And I’d choose you again. Every single day.”  

His pout softened into a smile, one so genuine it made your chest ache. “You’re too good to me,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple.  

“And you deserve it,” you countered firmly, finishing his hair with a rinse.  

When it was your turn, Pedro insisted on returning the favor, his hands gentle as he massaged the conditioner into your hair. His touch lingered, his fingers tracing the nape of your neck as he marveled at you.  

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with sincerity.  

“Even covered in soap?” you teased, feeling heat creep up your cheeks.  

“Especially covered in soap,” he replied, leaning down to steal a kiss.  

The shower ended with a flurry of soft laughter and playful splashes, the two of you wrapped in towels as you padded into the bedroom. Pedro pulled on a pair of boxers while you slipped into one of his oversized shirts, the hem brushing the tops of your thighs.  

The two of you slipped into bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm, golden light over the room. The air smelled faintly of the lavender lotion you’d rubbed on your hands, mingling with the subtle hint of Pedro’s cologne that still lingered on his skin. He had one arm draped lazily over your waist, his other hand holding a book he’d claimed to be interested in, though his wandering eyes betrayed him.

A book rested in your lap, too, but you’d long given up on reading. Instead, you could feel his gaze flickering to you, watching you more than the words on his page. It was endearing, the way he thought you wouldn’t notice, how he never grew tired of studying you like he’d never quite figure you out.  

“You’re not reading,” you finally accused, peeking at him over the edge of your book.  

Pedro grinned, unabashed. He set his book down on the nightstand and scooted closer, leaning his head on the pillow beside you. “Can you blame me?” he said, his voice soft and teasing. His hand reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his knuckles grazing your cheek. “I’ve got the most beautiful view right here.”  

You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the warmth rising in your cheeks, but the smile that stretched across your lips betrayed you. “You’re ridiculous,” you murmured, nudging him lightly with your elbow.  

“And yet, you love me,” he replied with mock arrogance, leaning back against the headboard with a self-satisfied smirk.  

“Unfortunately for me,” you quipped, though your tone was dripping with affection.  

Pedro’s laugh filled the room, low and warm, wrapping around you like a blanket. You settled back into your spot, his arm tightening slightly around your waist, anchoring you to him. For a while, there was only the sound of pages turning and the occasional creak of the bed as one of you shifted.  

Eventually, the books were forgotten, abandoned on the nightstand as the room grew darker, the soft click of the lamp switch plunging you into the comforting glow of moonlight spilling through the curtains.  

Lying side by side, your head resting on Pedro’s chest, you let your fingers trace lazy patterns along the bare skin of his arm. But your mind wouldn’t quiet, and as the minutes stretched on, the thoughts bubbling inside you demanded to be voiced.  

“Okay, but really,” you began, your voice breaking the comfortable silence. “Why is ‘llama’ spelled with two L’s? Wouldn’t one be enough? It’s not like we say ‘Llama-la.’”  

Pedro let out a soft laugh, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath your cheek. He tilted his head down to look at you, his lips quirking into a smile. “Mi amor, I adore you, but it’s almost midnight. Go to sleep.”  

“I can’t until I solve this mystery,” you said with mock determination, lifting your head to look at him.  

He sighed dramatically, feigning exasperation. “Fine. Maybe the second ‘L’ is there to confuse aliens.”  

You gasped, sitting up slightly. “That makes so much sense! Like, imagine aliens judging us for eating cereal with milk.”  

Pedro chuckled again, his arm tightening around you to keep you close. “Cereal with milk is sacred,” he said, his voice heavy with playful conviction. “If aliens have an issue with that, I’ll fight them myself.”  

You grinned, turning to prop yourself up on your elbow so you could face him fully. “Okay, serious question. If you could ask someone anything and be guaranteed the truth, who would it be?”  

Pedro cracked one eye open, his other hand lazily resting on your hip. “I’d ask you why you’re so determined to keep me awake,” he deadpanned, his lips twitching with a suppressed smile.  

You laughed, nudging him with your elbow. “I’m serious!”  

“Alright, alright,” he relented, the mirth in his eyes softening as he considered your question. “I’d ask my third-grade teacher if she really lost my homework or if she just didn’t like me.”  

You burst out laughing, the sound muffled by the way you buried your face into his chest. “That’s what you’d waste your question on?”  

“Don’t judge me,” he said with mock indignation, his fingers trailing absent patterns on your back. “It’s haunted me for years.”  

Your laughter subsided into a warm giggle as you tilted your head up to look at him. “Fine. My turn. I’d ask my mom if she’s proud of me. Like… really proud. Not just the ‘I’m your mom, so I have to say it’ kind of proud.”  

Pedro’s hand stilled on your back, his gaze softening as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “She’s proud of you, baby,” he murmured against your skin. “And so am I. Always.”  

The weight of his words wrapped around your heart, a comforting balm that eased the ache of self-doubt. You nuzzled closer, your fingers curling around his as you let the quiet stretch between you for a moment.  

Moments later, you broke the silence again, your voice a whisper in the dark. “When I was little, I thought my toys came alive when I wasn’t looking. Like Toy Story. Honestly, I still kinda think they do.”  

Pedro let out a deep laugh, his chest shaking beneath you as he pulled you even closer. “I wouldn’t put it past them,” he said, his voice warm with amusement. “Your stuffed bunny? Definitely a troublemaker.”  

You giggled, your heart feeling impossibly light as his hand returned to its slow, soothing patterns on your back.  

The conversation drifted into comfortable nonsense, the kind of midnight musings that didn’t need to make sense but brought a certain kind of intimacy only shared in the quiet hours of the night.  

Finally, as your eyelids grew heavy and your words faded into murmurs, Pedro pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. “Goodnight, mi amor,” he whispered, his voice soft and steady.  

In his arms, with the world outside forgotten, you felt safe. Loved. His heartbeat was the only rhythm you needed as you drifted into sleep, a love like no other holding you steady through the night.

[forgetmenottss]

Tulips  Review

“ It was Sirius who had started it, not in an attempt to replace what you had with Remus, but to remind you that he was there for you.”

—Tulips by Elina ( @amiableness ) is quite literally one of my favorite pieces for Sirius Black. Before being a one shot this fic was a series which is how I knew it as. To me it was the Tulips series which means warmth home and is the first fic I reach for when it starts getting colder, rainy and wicked outside. It means so much to me, so much more than words can provide.

As a certified James girl I can’t begin to tell you how this fic melts me every single time. I read this fic and am instantly grazed with a smile. I can’t begin to express how loving and comforting this fic is to me. I think I read this fic for the first time in February? Maybe March? Point is I read it towards the beginning of the year. Tulips were growing. I know that.  I then reread it closer to August because like I said when the weather gets colder it means it’s time to read this fic again. Not to mention that I am quite literally in love with tulips, the flower because they’re my favorites. But this fic is forever and always one that I will recommend. 

“You hardly comprehended the story, too focused on Sirius’ voice and his gentle touch. It was the first time in weeks that you hadn’t thought of Remus.”

➳ Y/n L/n:

Y/n. Y/n oh my lord. I cannot express how this is a beautiful example of how to write yet another y/n that actually feels like a human? In the fic Y/n is well in love with Remus. I can’t blame her because well same. But Remus doesn’t love her and well Y/n is left with having to watch Remus be in love with someone else. When I tell you that I felt so seen in the way that was written? Don’t even get me started. In the fic you can see the battle that Y/n has with those feelings and let me just say it is so incredibly well written because it actually represents how it is to have those feelings for someone who doesn’t return them. 

— The way that Y/n was written was so comforting. I’m going to get slightly personal so, hold please. Y/n was written as someone who was facing a heartbreak. Whether Elina made it intentional or didn’t even write it to have it be heartbreak that’s what the feelings were for me. But I’ll save that story for later. As I was saying, Y/n was given so much life and given such a level of connection that it made it so easy to get sucked into the world that was the Tulipsverse.

➳ Sirius Black:

「 “Sirius' concerned face as it comes into view. "What can I do? What do you need?" he asks, his tone brimming with genuine concern and care” 」

Guys. Where the hell do you want me to start? How dare I make myself choose? So, Sirius Black to me traditionally never appealed to my taste for reading about him. I didn’t really understand why everyone was obsessed with him. I didn’t see what the big deal was. Then I read Elina’s Sirius. Then I understood. Sirius in Tulips is what I imagine the boy you’ve secretly been in love with but too scared to admit to yourself to be like. And in a really really watered down way that’s kinda what it was. Sirius black (Elina’s version) will forever be the sweetest Sirius I have had the pleasure of meeting. Elina wrote Sirius with such care it’s almost as if she had him sit down with her and write it bit by bit how he fell in love with you.  Much like most writers Elina wrote Sirius with such care it’s scary how real he seems. It’s as if he’s right there with you as you’re reading this wonderful piece of work. It’s amazing. 

““Kiss the person you are most attracted to in this room.” Your stomach sinks like a stone, regretting your lack of resistance to James. ”

꒰ Sirius + Y/n: ꒱

Now it’s time to dissect the relationship. Ok when I tell you that when I read that scene, I was trying not to wake the whole house up? I’m not kidding. I literally could not stop myself from screaming as the scene went on. If you’ve read it you know what I’m talking about. But the relationship that Y/n and Sirius have? It is so incredibly beautiful. Like I said I didn’t have any interest in Sirius romantically but when you read Elina’s writing? You aren’t given much of a choice. Sirius was written in such a manner I was crying at the end because he wasn’t real. But this is deeper than that. Have you guys seen My Girl? Hear me out. Y/n and Sirius remind me of them. Because spoilers if you haven’t seen the film. Thomas dies right? Because he went to get something for Vada?  Okay so Sirius is Thomas. Sirius in this fic quite literally did anything he could to help the reader. And when I tell you that it’s squeal worthy when you read it? Be ready to have to muffle those squeals at three am because Elina provides you with the perfect amount of fluff and angst that it actually drives you crazy. The relationship that these two have is so unique and so captivating that you find yourself wanting more and craving the way they both love each other. No matter how much they deny it. Another couple that they remind me of is the relationship Barbie has with the tutor guy from princess and the pauper? Like he was so in love with her and she didn’t realise it until much later? Yeah that mirrors how Y/n and Sirius are in this fic and I am living for it. It’s so alluring and makes you want to immerse yourself in the story. I love it. 

”“You’re the only one I thought of.” You admit softly, hoping you don’t sound nearly as wrecked as you feel”

— The quote above is one that had(s) me reeling. When I first read it I was quite frankly stuffing my face into my pillow screaming. I remember reading that scene and looking up at the ceiling asking “what are we” to the air. But now it’s time to dissect that scene. No I’m kidding now it's time for the love letter to this fic. Tulips as I’ve so eloquently have written is a fic that I hold so near and dear to my heart because it helped me get over a stupid british boy. Regardless if I had been heartbroken when I read this fic or not I know I would fall in love with it again. If you hand me this fic and I happened to have lost my memory I know I would be as in love with it then as I am now. Tulips is an amazing work of art that makes you feel like you’re actually experiencing these things. It’s as if you’re right there and actually living through the scenes because it’s so beautifully written. Elina, your writing brings me and I’m sure many others so much comfort. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for sharing this with us. Thank you for not second guessing this amazing work of art and not sharing it to the world. If you haven’t already read Tulips do yourself a favor and go read it. Read it with tissues though. It made me cry sometimes but cough drops too because you will scream. Tulips will be one of the best fics that you’ve read I can guarantee even if you don’t think you like Sirius take it from someone who had mild interest in Sirius. You will love it when you read it. Thank you for reading the review!!

To Elina,

        I did try to be as unbiased as I promise you I for the most part I really did try. I don’t know once you read the review (if you do) you’ll be able to tell me if I was bias or not! But I’m not lying to you when I tell you how much this work means to me. When I first read this piece I had just gone through the worst ending of a really intense situationship. Ironically enough he had a girlfriend while we were talking. And he came into my life saying he wanted to talk and to tell me about said girlfriend. So when I accidentally stumbled onto this absolute gem of a fic while reading one night? I stayed up the whole night and read it all the way through. I was screaming into my pillows as I was reading. I thought I knew stress, but then I experienced stress and my actual feelings on paper and I was proven wrong. Elina, I don’t think I say this enough when I tell you how amazing your writing truly is. When I first found this fic I was in shock because I had never once considered I would be this obsessed with Sirius but when I read the first chapter? You had me bewitched. I will say you have a beautiful gift in writing and I am so incredibly honored that you chose to share with the world that gift. But this fic was honestly the beginning for my journey of your writing. I was scrolling through my blog and I had found you asking about dad!james x bsf!reader. I looked at the post for a little and I thought it was familiar and it was, I just didn’t know until I clicked it. I began reading all the works you had linked. I can’t remember if I  interacted but I think I read them all silently and I found myself craving more. Then I made the decision to follow you. I wasn’t that nervous to follow because you deserve people to show you that they love your work. However when I would send you those messages? I was so nervous, I would actually throw my phone when you would respond. But then you followed me back? When I tell you I was actually unresponsive? It was crazy. Because I still can’t wrap my head around how the person who’s fics I go to when I feel like I’m alone, had followed me back. I wasn’t lying when I said your fics still bring me comfort because they like I’ve said before are part of my routine. I am forever grateful to have found your piece because I continuously think about it and find comfort in it. So I’ll leave you with this Elina, your writing is so incredibly beautiful. Even if people are stupid and take your work for granted I want you to know how incredible it is. 

Tulips

Pairings: Sirius Black x Fem!Reader, Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader

Summary ✿ After finding out Remus Lupin has found himself a girlfriend, a devastated Y/n L/n asks Sirius Black to help her get over him. Except Sirius has feelings for her.

Warnings ✿ Language, unrequited love, angst, kissing, jealousy, reader wearing lipgloss and a dress, mentions of anxiety. If there's more let me know!

Word Count ✿ 20.3k

A/N 💌 This was my first ever series, but I've decided to repost it as a oneshot!

BONUS SMUT

Your affection for Remus had begun almost from the moment you met him. For nearly five years, you found yourself quietly drawn to him. How could you not be? His tranquil and caring nature had eased your anxieties countless times. His unwavering loyalty to both his friends and his studies never ceased to amaze you. The bravery he exhibited each month, whether he acknowledged it or not, left you in awe. With Remus, you always felt secure, as if nothing could disturb your sense of safety.

Monday nights marked your routine study sessions with Remus, a tradition since the start of sixth year. Arriving promptly at his dorm, you were met with unsettling moans seeping from beneath the door, causing your stomach to plummet. Frozen in shock, you raced through possible explanations, with Sirius seeming the most plausible culprit. Surely, Remus wouldn't forget your study night, and the thought of another girl seemed inconceivable. As you turned around, anxiety coursing through your veins, you collided with Sirius, tears welling up in your eyes.

"Please tell me it’s James in there." You pleaded, the desperation clear in both your tone and your expression, causing Sirius' heart to sink. Knowing James was at practice, he couldn't bring himself to shatter your hope. Instead, he grasped your hand firmly and practically pulled you towards your dormitory. Despite the chaos of emotions, Sirius made sure to shield you with his own body, warding off any prying eyes curious about the tears streaming down your cheeks.

"Are any of your roommates here?" Sirius inquired as he halted in front of your dormitory door.

"No, Lily is staying the night at your dorm with James, and I think Marlene is staying with Dorcas." You responded, your voice tinged with sadness as you used your sleeve to dab at the tears staining your cheeks. Leading the way inside, you guided Sirius into your room, where he realized it was his first time seeing your personal space. Until now, you and Remus had been inseparable, leaving no room for Sirius to spend time alone with you.

He found himself a tad nervous, the proximity to you unnerving him in the best possible way. As he stood in your dormitory, the faint scent of your favorite perfume lingering in the air, Sirius couldn't help but feel a flutter in his stomach. It was an unfamiliar sensation, being so close to you without the familiar presence of Remus nearby.

"It wasn’t James and Lily in there, was it?" Sirius turned to you, his expression filled with concern as he observed you sitting on your bed, visibly holding back tears, awaiting his response.

"No, angel." He replied softly, his voice tinged with empathy as he moved to sit beside you. A sigh escaped his lips as he settled onto your bed. Sirius knew James's schedule all too well, and he was certain that James was still down at the Quidditch pitch, far from the dorm.

Everything about your side of the room was perfectly you. Your desk was adorned with stacks of books, polaroids capturing cherished memories with friends pinned to the wall, and one of Remus’ sweaters casually draped over the back of your chair. Yet, amidst the familiar sights, a small glass vase seized his attention. Within it, a single red tulip, a gift he had given you a few weeks earlier.

As he strolled around Black Lake with the boys, he stumbled upon the patch of flowers, and instantly, he knew it was meant for you. Knowing how much you adored flowers, often doodling them in the margins of your Potions notes while seated beside him, he couldn't resist picking it. James, catching sight of the flower, declared that Lily deserved an entire bouquet. 

You weren’t taken aback when James Potter interrupted your study session with Lily by presenting her with a stunning bouquet of flowers. However, what did catch you off guard was Sirius' gesture: placing a single red flower delicately on top of your open book and sending you a playful wink.

"​M’lady." He had murmured, and at that moment, your cheeks ignited with a warmth you had never felt before.

Lily filled the remainder of your study session with talk of how a red tulip symbolized a declaration of love while you simply laughed in response.

Sirius glanced over at you, noticing the tear-filled gaze fixed upon your hands as you sat on the bed. He hesitated, the weight of his words hanging in the air. "I didn’t know you had feelings for him." he finally admitted, his tone tinged with surprise.

You offered a soft laugh tinged with a hint of sadness. "I guess that means I’m good at hiding it then. It’s been a good couple of years now. Probably started the very first day I met him, honestly," you confessed, a bittersweet smile gracing your lips.

"I’m sorry, angel." Sirius expressed, his voice laced with genuine remorse.

A gentle shake of your head followed. "You don’t have to be sorry," you reassured him, your voice carrying a tone of acceptance intertwined with a hint of resignation.

"I could’ve given you a heads up," Sirius grimaced as your head whipped up to look over at him, the gravity of his words sinking in. "He’s been seeing this girl for weeks. He’s going to ask her out soon."

"Sirius-" you began, your voice carrying a mixture of surprise and concern.

"I’m telling you this not to be mean, but so you’re not blindsided when it happens." Sirius continued his tone earnest yet tinged with regret.

This time, you remained silent, your gaze drifting over to the polaroid displayed prominently on your bedside table. In the photo, you and Remus sat beneath a tree, his arm wrapped around you in a protective embrace while your head rested gently on his shoulder. The memory of that day flooded back — discussing a book, laughter filling the air, and Lily insisting on capturing the moment in a photograph. 

At the end of the day, with a knowing smile, she handed you the polaroid. The setting sun cast a beautiful glow upon the photo when you held it in your hand.

"C’mere," Sirius demanded softly, his voice a gentle command meant to pull you away from the intensity of the picture. He positioned himself against the headboard, arms open wide for you to find solace in. Without hesitation, you crawled into his embrace, nestling against his side. His arms enveloped you, offering comfort and warmth as he planted a tender kiss atop your head.

"What can I do?" Sirius inquired quietly, his gaze fixed on the tears tracing down your cheeks and staining his shirt.

"Help me get over him. Please." You pleaded, the vulnerability in your voice bared as you sought comfort and support from him.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

"Where the hell have you been? You nearly missed breakfast!" James exclaimed, his eyes scanning over your disheveled appearance—your hair in disarray and your clothes creased. It was a rare sight to see you, typically impeccably put together and five minutes ahead of everyone else, arriving late and looking rumpled. He chose not to mention the dark circles under your eyes or the absence of your usual cheery smile. He knew better than to bring that up.

Upon sensing Remus's scrutinizing gaze, you cleared your throat nervously and averted your eyes, unwilling to let him figure out that he was the cause of your disheveled appearance.

“Rough night.” That was simply put. In fact, last night had been incredibly rough, leaving you worse for wear this dreary morning. Cuddling with Sirius comforted you for so long before you were back to crying your heart out. He was kind enough to hold you the entire time, and eventually, you had both fallen asleep. There had been no discussion on what you meant last night about having him help you get over Remus. You didn’t know what you had meant by it either.

You grimaced as the memory flooded back, choosing to sit beside Sirius instead. He wouldn’t admit it in front of the boys, but he was well prepared to knock one of them over if they tried to sit next to him. After the trying night you'd endured, he made it a point to ensure you felt at ease and understood that he was there for you should you need anything. Normally, you occupied the seat next to Remus, with Sirius seated beside James and Peter. However, given the circumstances, he understood that you wouldn't feel comfortable sitting next to Remus that morning.

James' gaze darted between the two of you, noting the departure from your usual seating arrangement. He stole a quick glance at Remus, who seemed intent on studying you. "Hmm. Why is it that Sirius has been quiet all breakfast, and now you are too?" he quipped, breaking the silence.

"Sod off, mate." Sirius grumbled, pushing a steaming cup of tea toward you. Despite the gruff remark, he offered you a sweet smile before returning his attention to his meal. Even though the gesture was minimal, it made you want to burst into tears. The fact that he remembered your favorite tea and how you liked it meant more to you than words could express. Remus, however, frowned at the cup of tea sitting in front of you, his expression troubled.

“What? I can’t make conversation this beautiful morning?” James’s tone was still incredibly upbeat, unlike those around him. Peter hummed in agreement, his mouth full of cereal and unable to respond properly.

"It's storming." Remus mumbled, his gaze still fixed on you, sensing that something was amiss as you avoided meeting his eyes. Usually, you sat next to him, cheerily chatting about another book you had read together.

"Are you implying a storm isn't beautiful? Because I happen to think-"

"James, let's just have a quiet breakfast this Tuesday morning." Sirius interjected, surprising James with the interruption. James opened his mouth to protest, but the seriousness in Sirius's expression halted him mid-sentence. Sirius's deliberate interruption was aimed at signaling to Remus that he had missed your study night. It served its purpose, prompting Remus to acknowledge the missed study date.

"Oh, fuck. Y/n, I’m so sorry! Last night, our study night, I totally forgot," Remus blurted out, his words rushed and filled with regret as he watched your reaction. You simply shrugged and sipped your tea, avoiding direct eye contact with him. You kept your gaze fixed on your plate, knowing that meeting Remus's eyes would likely trigger another wave of tears.

"No big deal." You replied casually.

"Uh," Remus furrowed his eyebrows, his expression a mixture of concern and confusion as he searched your face for any sign of distress. However, your demeanor remained inscrutable, your face a mask of blankness. "Are you sure? I know you really wanted to study this week with your exam coming up-"

You finally met Remus's gaze, sitting up a bit straighter, "I was able to study, Remus, it's fine."

"You were? But uh-" Remus scrambled for words, uncertain how to navigate this tense exchange. He couldn't recall a time when you sounded so curt with him before.

"Sirius helped me." You interjected, your voice steady but tinged with an underlying tension.

James sputtered out a laugh, his gaze darting between you and Sirius. "He helped you study? Willingly?"

In reality, studying hadn't been the main agenda of the night. Before drifting off to sleep, you had hastily handed Sirius your flashcards from the nightstand, however, your pounding headache from crying rendered you unable to focus properly during his quizzing. So, technically, he did help you study, albeit minimally.

Peter raised his eyebrows, his tone laced with curiosity, "Is that where you were all last night? Studying?"

You squirmed uneasily at Peter's implication. Sirius shot James and Peter a sharp glance, silently urging them to stop talking.

Remus's lips parted in surprise as he shifted his gaze from Sirius to you. "He stayed the night with you?" His tone carried a hint of displeasure that didn't escape Sirius's notice. Despite himself, a slight sense of satisfaction flickered within Sirius at Remus's reaction.

Before anyone could respond, a pretty Ravenclaw leaned over Remus, enveloping him in a hug as she rested her head against his shoulder. "Rem, I thought you were going to try and sit with me this morning." She murmured.

Your body tensed at the sight of her; she was the girl from last night. A surge of jealousy, unlike anything you had ever experienced before, washed over you, catching you off guard. Your appetite vanished.

"Uh, sorry. I had to work on some things this morning and got a bit distracted." Remus's response came with a hint of discomfort, his apology tinged with unease. As you observed the exchange, you couldn't quite determine if his discomfort arose from her presence or the attention their interaction garnered. Quietly, you wished it leaned more towards the former.

Her lips formed a pretty pout, “Hm.”

James unabashedly observed the pair while taking a bite of his toast. "You know, Remus, if you ever need relationship advice, I’m here," he remarked, his tone teasing. Remus scowled in response, clearly unamused, while the girl giggled and tightened her grip around him, seemingly unfazed by James's comment.

You stole a glance at Sirius, momentarily tuning out the conversation to observe his reaction to the scene unfolding before you. Sensing the unease gnawing at your stomach, you instinctively reached for Sirius’ hand, which rested on his thigh. As soon as your fingers brushed against his, he responded by intertwining them with yours, his eyes meeting yours in silent understanding.

"Do you want to go?" he whispered softly, squeezing your hand in reassurance. Unable to trust your voice, you simply nodded in response. He released your hand momentarily, a fleeting disappointment washing over you until you watched as he effortlessly grabbed your bag and slung it over his shoulder. With a tender gesture, he reached for a muffin, noticing that you had hardly eaten.

Then, extending his hand towards you, he silently offered his support. Amidst James's lively conversation with the Ravenclaw girl and Remus's contemplative gaze, Peter looked on with a puzzled expression as Sirius extended his hand to you, a silent invitation to leave the discomfort behind.

"You don’t have to hold my bag." You mumbled, rising to your feet to face him, intertwining your fingers once more. Despite the awareness of the eyes fixed upon the two of you, your focus remained solely on Sirius.

"I wanted to, angel." Sirius replied softly, meeting your gaze with warmth. The genuine smile that graced your face was the first of the morning, and Sirius felt as if he had won the lottery.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

"Y/n." His voice sliced through the air, causing you to freeze mid-sentence. But deep down, what had you truly expected? That he wouldn’t approach you while you were quietly engrossed in your book in the common room? Your plan of avoiding him for as long as possible wasn’t unfolding as smoothly as you had hoped.

"Hi, Rem.” You responded softly, offering a genuine smile. Despite the ache that lingered from witnessing him with the Ravenclaw girl at breakfast, you couldn’t deny the bond you shared. After all, he was still your best friend. You couldn’t fault him for getting a girlfriend, no matter how much it hurt.

Remus settled into the armchair opposite you, his expression earnest. "I didn’t really get to talk to you much this morning," he began, his tone gentle.

You offered a nonchalant shrug, hoping to conceal the nervousness. "Oh. I mean, I wasn’t in much of a mood for chatting," you replied, attempting to maintain a façade of composure, though inwardly, you were anything but.

"Is everything alright? Is this about missing last night? I promise that I didn’t mean to, truly," Remus continued, his sincerity evident. Leaning forward, his eyes bore into yours, practically pleading for your forgiveness. Despite your resolve, his sincerity tugged at your heartstrings, and you found yourself wavering.

"I’m not upset about you missing our study night; I understand that things come up." You reassured him as though you were anything truly fine. There was a squeeze in your heart at remembering Remus with another girl, a stark reminder that she wasn't you.

Remus visibly relaxed at your words. "We could reschedule it?" he suggested, his tone hopeful.

A heavy silence settled between you. How were you supposed to tell him that you didn't want to reschedule? That you weren't ready to spend time alone with him right now? Being around him now, knowing you had no chance, felt like a punch to the gut.

"There you guys are!" James’ voice carried throughout the common room, effectively gaining more attention than he had probably intended. Sirius stood right beside him, his gaze already fixed on you. Peter was notably absent, likely engrossed in his studies elsewhere. Nevertheless, you welcomed the distraction.

James huffed as if he had been greatly inconvenienced. "We have been looking everywhere for you guys."

You couldn't help but laugh, "You didn’t think to check the common room first?"

"Y/n, please. Don’t be ridiculous." James quipped as he dropped into the armchair beside Remus. Remus's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he sighed and turned his attention to James. Soon enough, they were engrossed in their own conversation.

Sirius settled into the spot next to you, casually draping an arm over the back of the couch just behind your shoulders. As you leaned into his side and offered him a smile, he felt his cheeks flush with warmth. Your affectionate gestures toward him had always been present, but after last night, they seemed to intensify.

Your proximity never failed to make his heart skip a beat, and his stomach flutter. Despite his confidence in hiding his involuntary reactions to you, lately, it seemed more challenging for him to do so.

He greets you with the softest smile, his eyes reflecting warmth. "Hi, angel," he murmurs gently. Sirius had always affectionately called you angel, a term that secretly held a special place in your heart, one of your favorite things about him.

"Hi." You respond, a matching smile adorning your features, mirroring the comfort in his presence.

"I never got to thank you for last night." You admit, your tone filled with gratitude.

Shaking his head modestly, he insists, "You don’t have to thank me."

"It made me feel better having you there with me, so of course I want to thank you." You express earnestly, your appreciation evident in your words.

Sirius leans in, his breath tickling your ear as he whispers, "We still gotta talk about what you meant last night. By asking me to help you get over him."

Feeling a flush of embarrassment, you sputter out a response, "I’m not entirely sure what I meant. I figured you would know how to go about that."

"Why would I know how to go about that?" Sirius questions, genuine curiosity coloring his tone.

Shrugging, you admit, "I don’t know. I just thought you might have. You have way more experience with relationships than I do."

Sirius snorts, a wry grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "I wouldn’t call them relationships." he remarks, his mind briefly wandering through the array of flings he'd had in the past few years. None of them had left a lasting impression on him, none of them had made him feel the way you did.

You shrug, a hint of vulnerability in your expression. "It’s more experience than I have.”

Your voices remain hushed, a deliberate attempt to avoid drawing the attention of James and Remus. Yet, the intimate proximity between you and Sirius could easily spark curiosity on its own. You're practically nestled against his side, his warm breath brushing against your ear as he whispers. To any onlooker, it would seem as though you were lovers, exchanging sweet nothings in a quiet moment of intimacy.

He takes a moment to collect his thoughts, acutely aware of the gravity of his next question. He understands that the answer could severely hurt his feelings, "Are you in love with him?"

Your reaction is swift; you turn to him so abruptly that your noses nearly brush against each other. Sirius silently begs you to linger closer, but you withdraw just enough to maintain a respectable distance. He watches intently as you steal a glance at Remus, your bottom lip caught between your teeth in contemplation.

"No. But, honestly, it probably wouldn’t take much for me to fall in love with him." You confess, your words hanging in the air like a weight. Sirius needs a moment to recover, the impact of your admission hitting him harder than he had anticipated, despite mentally preparing himself for it.

You turn back to him, anguish evident in your voice, "How are you supposed to get over someone you’re nearly in love with?" Sirius hears the devastation in your tone, wishing he could convey that he genuinely comprehends that sentiment. However, delving into such explanations would only invite more questions, and that's the last thing he needs right now.

"I don’t know, angel." He responds simply, observing as you anxiously pick at your nails.

A quiet lull envelops you both before you speak up again, "I don’t think spending all my time with him helps. Maybe I should distance myself a little bit."

"You’re welcome to spend all that time with me instead." Sirius offers, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to his side. As you relax into his embrace, you rest your head on his shoulder. For a few precious minutes, you both sit in silence, lost in your own thoughts.

Remus glances over at you, nearly doing a double-take at the display of affection. You have closed your eyes, seemingly oblivious to Remus' stare, but Sirius him. For a brief, tense moment, Remus and Sirius lock eyes, but then James regains Remus' attention.

“Sirius?” You ask, the weariness evident in your voice.

“Yeah?”

“Remember when you told James to get over Lily that he needed to get under someone else?” Sirius immediately senses the direction of the conversation, and a pang of regret twinges in his chest.

“Yes.”

“Do you think that really works?” You inquire, your tone tinged with uncertainty and a hint of desperation.

“For some people, maybe.” Sirius replies cautiously. He wants to admit that such tactics haven’t proven successful for him and probably never will.

You pull away to look at him, your eyes reflecting a mixture of hope and uncertainty, “Would you help me find someone?”

"There’s no way in hell I’m doing that." Sirius responds firmly, his tone leaving little room for negotiation. But before you can protest, he interjects, "I’ll be your distraction."

"How exactly?" Your voice tinged with uncertainty, unsure of what he means.

"However, you need me. I know I’m not the best study partner, but I’ll run through your flashcards with you whenever you need to study," Sirius offers, his voice softening as he glances from you to Remus. “I know you guys would talk about books a lot, so I’ll read whatever book you’re reading just to discuss it with you. Whatever you want me to do, Y/n, I’ll do it.”

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

“You and Y/n were cozy on that couch,” James comments casually, his gaze fixed on the ceiling from where he's sprawled out on his bed. Sirius glances over his shoulder at him, pausing his furious writing at the desk where he's been hunched over for the last twenty minutes.

“Hm. I guess so.” Sirius replies nonchalantly, but his voice’s a subtle tension.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” James' tone carries a note of genuine concern, and Sirius immediately feels the weight of his friend's apprehension settling over the room like a heavy blanket.

“Working on my homework? Yeah, it’s probably my best one yet.” Sirius responds, his tone strained as he tries to maintain composure.

“About comforting the girl you love because she’s in love with your best mate.” James continues, his words cutting through the air like a knife. Sirius freezes, the quill leaving a streak of ink across the paper as his thoughts whirl.

He refuses to turn around and face James, not wanting to see the pitying look he knows will be on his friend's face. Instead, he runs his hand through his hair in frustration, his emotions simmering beneath the surface.

“Surprised you figured it out.” Sirius grumbles, his voice laced with a mixture of defensiveness and resignation. He doesn’t want to confront the truth about your feelings for Remus. The mere thought of you falling in love with someone other than him ignites a pang of jealousy in his chest.

He wants to correct James, to insist that you aren’t in love with Remus, but it feels futile. The reality is too close for comfort, and he can't shake the feeling of impending loss.

“About your feelings? Or hers?” James questions, his head leaning back against his headboard as he studies Sirius, his expression searching.

Sirius climbs onto his bed, letting out a sigh of frustration once his head hits his pillow, the weight of the conversation heavy on his mind. “Both,” he admits, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

“I didn’t notice until today with Y/n. She looked devastated when Adeline was all over Remus. On the other hand, I’ve known you’ve had feelings for her for years. The things you do for her, you wouldn’t do for anyone else.” James observes, his tone tinged with a mix of understanding and concern.

Sirius doesn’t know what to say in response, but deep down, he knows James is right. He’s always treated you differently, gone the extra mile for you in ways he wouldn't for anyone else. He had just hoped it wasn’t so obvious.

James sighs loudly, the weight of the situation hanging heavy in the air, “You gotta be careful, mate. You’re gonna get your feelings hurt.”

“I’d rather my feelings be hurt than hers.” Sirius responds earnestly, his voice carrying a hint of determination.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

It was official. Remus Lupin and Adeline Reyes were officially dating. The news didn’t come as a surprise; Remus had been bringing her around more often lately. She seamlessly integrated herself into your group dynamic, joining you all at breakfast some mornings and effortlessly engaging in conversation as if she had been there for years. Adeline adeptly kept pace with Sirius’ quick quips and could outwit James with a witty comeback. She was quick to include Peter whenever James unintentionally overshadowed him in conversation and was always eager to discuss the next book you planned to read.

It was horrifically frustrating.

You wanted to dislike her, but deep down, you knew it was just jealousy clouding your judgment. Adeline was undeniably genuine and sweet; you could easily envision yourself becoming good friends with her. However, every time she affectionately pressed her lips to Remus’ cheeks or leaned into his side, it felt like a sharp pang reminding you of your own feelings and the heartwrenching situation you found yourself in.

It left a bitter taste in your mouth. Just a few weeks ago, that was your spot, and you were blissfully unaware of his feelings for another girl. You felt foolish, caught off guard. Was it all in your head? Had you merely romanticized every interaction with him? Built up a scenario that never truly existed?

"Y/n, this is the third time you've spaced out. Are you alright?" Lily's concerned voice broke through your thoughts as she settled beside you on the bed. Despite James's insistence on a get-together downstairs, you found your mind drifting elsewhere. It had been a couple of weeks since Remus and Adeline declared their relationship, and ever since then, your thoughts had been in turmoil.

You shrugged, "I'm okay. I just don't think I'm up for a party tonight."

"You haven't seemed in the party mood for weeks." Marlene remarked, her attention fixed on her reflection as she applied lip gloss. Sensing something amiss, she pivoted abruptly to face you.

"Is this about Remus and Adeline?" Lily's direct question made your stomach plummet.

"I, uh—no." You stammered, feeling as startled as you looked by her inquiry.

"Godric, you're a horrible liar." Marlene remarked, tossing the tube of sparkly gloss onto her bed before striding over to her trunk and flinging it open. "It's okay to miss your best friend. You two are practically glued to each other's sides. I'm sure it's odd not spending as much time with him anymore."

Lily observed the subtle shift in your demeanor as Marlene spoke, although Marlene herself was entirely engrossed in rummaging through her clothes until she emitted a satisfied hum.

Shoving a floral sundress into your hands, Marlene declared, "Here, you're not wearing your uniform tonight. Wearing something cute will make you feel better." Your fingers traced over the silky material, white with colorful flowers scattered across it. Marlene observed as you held up the dress, eyeing the spaghetti straps and milkmaid top with uncertainty.

"It's winter, Marlene." You pointed out your tone laced with practicality.

"We're inside. But if you do get cold, I’m sure Sirius would gladly warm you up." Marlene chirped, grinning at your surprised expression.

"Sirius is not going to warm me up." You grumbled as you stood up and headed to the bathroom with the dress in hand. With the door shut, you changed out of your uniform. You had to admit, the dress was pretty. Maybe Marlene was right; wearing something cute would boost your confidence and mood.

"Are you sure? You two have been awfully cozy lately!" Lily's laughter laced her tone as she called through the door. You slipped the dress on, then twisted in front of the mirror to assess how it looked. Concluding that you liked it, you also appreciated how it made you feel slightly brighter. It reminded you of a summer spent in Italy with your parents, where you practically lived in sundresses.

You turn open the door and twirl for the girls, who squeal in appreciation. Marlene snatches the lip gloss she had tossed aside, grabbing at your cheeks to dot some on your lips.

"We haven’t been cozy. We’re just acting like friends do." You mumble, your words slightly muffled from your cheeks being squished.

“Bullshit! You never snuggled Peter, never did with James before he got himself a girlfriend,” Marlene turned to wink at Lily. “Honestly, you never did with Remus either. But you and Sirius have been all over each other.”

“We have not!” You deny it, looking to Lily for support. But she only leans back on her hands and sends you a smug smile.

"The other day, I walked into the common room with James, and you were practically asleep on Sirius’ lap while he read to you.” Lily grins.

“He was reading to you? That’s the cutest thing I have ever heard. That’s your love language right there!” Marlene's gasp was filled with awe, and you didn't know how to respond. Because you had indeed fallen asleep on his lap while Sirius twirled a strand of your hair between his fingers absentmindedly as he read Pride and Prejudice to you. You hardly comprehended the story, too focused on Sirius’ voice and his gentle touch. It was the first time in weeks that you hadn’t thought of Remus.

“It was the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen Sirius do.” Lily agreed, nodding in approval. “I’m telling you, he has feelings for you. I’ve thought so ever since 5th year. He pretty much confirmed it when he gave you that red tulip.”

“A declaration of love!” Marlene practically sang, her excitement contagious.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

As you reached the bottom step with Marlene and Lily, you let out a sigh. The common room was bustling, with students scattered everywhere, making the air feel stuffy and warm. You briefly pondered what James’ definition of a get-together was, because this felt more like a full-blown party.

“James said he invited hardly anyone.” You muttered to Lily, who nodded in agreement.

“He’s a social butterfly, you never know with him.” Lily replied with a shrug, craning her neck to spot James amidst the crowd. She eventually spotted him near the fireplace, engaged in lively conversation with Sirius and a few other members of the Quidditch team. You allowed Lily to lead you through the throng of people, observing the lively atmosphere around you. Marlene had already disappeared into the crowd, no doubt on a mission to find Dorcas.

You can hear him before you see him: Sirius’ hearty laugh resonates over the music and the crowd’s chatter. It's a remarkable sound, drawing attention effortlessly. And there he is, standing tall next to James by the fireplace, a drink held casually in one hand while the other gestures animatedly as he converses with the guy beside him. Clad in a simple black T-shirt, Sirius exudes a captivating charm, and you can't help but admire how good he looks in the flickering firelight.

Though you'd never admit it aloud, Lily had been onto something. You and Sirius had been spending an increasing amount of time together. True to his word, Sirius had been a genuine distraction from your heartache. The activities you once shared with Remus were gradually being replaced by moments with Sirius.

It was no longer Remus, who you sat next to in the morning. No longer Remus, who you reviewed your flashcards with. No longer Remus, who would sit with you next to Black Lake and chat about your latest book. And no longer Remus, who would hold your hand to calm your anxiety every time you had to speak up in front of the class.

But it wasn’t like you had asked Sirius to do any of these things. It was Sirius who had started it, not in an attempt to replace what you had with Remus, but to remind you that he was there for you. That he would do anything to make you feel loved. Sirius wasn’t doing any of this because he felt obligated. He did it because he wanted you to know that you weren’t alone and that he didn’t plan on leaving any time soon.

But there were things that Sirius did that Remus had never done. Every morning, a cup of your favorite tea awaited at your spot next to him. He carried one of your scrunchies in his bag because you could never keep track of them, even offering to tie your hair up for you. Each time he walked around Black Lake, he brought you back a red tulip, which you tucked into the vase on your desk next to the others. You were building up quite the collection. 

Sirius bursts into laughter, but his mirth is interrupted by James' boisterous greeting. The sudden volume jerks your attention away from Sirius, and you find yourself facing Lily, who offers a halfhearted protest as James envelops her in a bear hug. You brace yourself as James turns his attention to you, lifting you up despite your protests about your dress. After he sets you down, a moment of imbalance is quickly rectified as you feel an arm slip around your waist, steadying you against someone's chest.

"He's had a few too many." Sirius whispers into your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. You lean into his embrace, relishing the warmth and familiarity of his touch before turning around to face him.

With your palms pressed against his chest, you offer him a warm smile. "Hi."

He still holds onto his drink, but his pointer finger slips under the strap of your dress, giving it a gentle tug. "This is cute," he murmurs, his voice now hushed compared to the near shouting from a minute ago. His eyes meet yours, and you feel a wave of warmth spread through you. No one has ever looked at you the way he's looking at you right now.

"Thank you." You reply softly, surprised at the tenderness in your own voice. But you know he hears you as he smiles before turning back to the conversation he was having with a few other guys.

Pushing down your disappointment, you adjust the straps of your dress and take a breath, scanning the room for someone else to chat with. However, Sirius surprises you by wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you gently into his side. He continues to talk, his voice much quieter this time, but the three subtle squeezes let you know he's still there if you need him.

Lily catches your eye and mouths, "I told you so."

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

You hadn't intended to eavesdrop, it was just a coincidence that you found yourself in the vicinity at that moment. 

"You know, everyone thought you and Y/n were gonna get together." Peter remarks, nudging Remus in the side. Remus turns to him, likely taken aback. From your vantage point, you can't see their faces, but you recognize their silhouettes. They're seated together on one of the couches, engaged in quiet conversation amid the lively atmosphere of the party. You had briefly slipped away from Sirius to grab a drink, but now you're starting to regret your decision.

"Y/n and I?" Remus's response is laced with surprise, confirming your suspicions. You stand frozen, a few feet away from the couch, feeling your stomach plummet. 

"Yeah, I think most people thought you already were. I mean, you guys spent so much time together." Peter continues, oblivious to the impact of his words. You try to avoid lingering on the past tense word.

"No, never," Remus hastily interjects. “I don’t think I could think of Y/n like that.” His words landed like a heavy blow to your chest. You feel a pang of disappointment and hurt ripple through you, sitting heavy in your stomach. With tears threatening to spill from your eyes, you pivot on your heel and stride purposefully toward your dormitory.

As you navigate through the bustling crowd, your lips utter excuse me, and I need to get through in a mechanical cadence. Each step feels heavier than the last, burdened by the weight of Remus's words and the shattered illusions they bring.

Finally, the door to your dormitory swings shut behind you with a resounding thud, the noise a stark contrast to the chaos of the party below. Alone in the silence of your room, you confront the raw emotions swirling within you, grappling with the harsh reality of unrequited feelings.

Tears blur your vision so severely that you nearly trip over your shoes in your haste to remove them. With trembling hands, you toss the covers over your body, seeking refuge in the soft embrace of your bed. You bury your face into the welcoming embrace of your pillow, heedless of the inevitable mascara stains that will be left behind. A strangled sob escapes your lips, muffled by the sanctuary of your pillow, as you grapple with the overwhelming wave of emotions crashing over you.

The noise of the party downstairs serves as a comforting cloak, allowing you to release your emotions freely and without judgment.

The abruptness with which Remus shut down any possibility of harboring feelings for you cuts deep, like a dagger to the heart. The ache in your chest feels all-consuming, a relentless reminder that you will never be with him. Despite the rational part of your mind knowing that his affection for Adeline precludes any possibility of reciprocating your feelings, the emotional turmoil still wreaks havoc on your fragile heart.

In the solitude of your room, you allow yourself to cry. With each passing moment, the ache in your chest deepens.

"Y/n? Oh, Godric." Lily exclaims, rushing to your side with concern etched across her features. She gathers your hair away from your tear-streaked face, her eyes taking in the sight before her: cheeks flushed and blotchy, mascara-tinged tears tracing down your cheeks, your hair in disarray. She had sensed something amiss when she spotted you hurrying up the stairs, but the depth of your distress caught her off guard.

"Y/n, what can I do? Do you want a glass of water? Can I, uh..." Lily's voice trembles with worry as she looks around the room, searching for anything that might bring you comfort. She's witnessed your tears before, but never like this, leaving her feeling utterly helpless.

"I don't need water. Can you..." Your voice breaks, choked with emotion, making it difficult to articulate your thoughts.

Lily watches as you clutch your pillow tighter, waiting for your next words. "Can I what?" She prompts gently.

"I just need..." You falter, another sob escaping your lips. "Sirius. I need Sirius."

Without hesitation, Lily nods, determined to find Sirius and bring him to your side. As she exits your dorm, you sink deeper into your pillow, allowing the tears to flow freely. Your mind races with questions, grappling with how to face Remus again and feign normalcy.

You're not completely taken aback by his words; the past few weeks have allowed you to gradually accept that Remus may not share your feelings. Yet, processing this realization privately was less painful than hearing his firm denial of any possibility of reciprocation. Perhaps there's a tinge of sorrow in acknowledging this truth, as it signifies a shift in your relationship with Remus—one that might never be quite the same again. Accepting this reality proves to be a bitter pill to swallow.

"Angel," Your body instinctively relaxes at the soothing sound of Sirius’s voice. The pillow is gently drawn from your grip, revealing Sirius’ concerned face as it comes into view. "What can I do? What do you need?" he asks, his tone brimming with genuine concern and care.

Kneeling by the side of your bed, his eyes brim with concern, evoking emotion that threatens to overwhelm you once more. You lie on your side, facing him, your makeup smudged and your eyes swollen from tears. Despite your disheveled appearance, he finds you the most beautiful girl in the world.

"Hold on." He murmurs softly before disappearing into your bathroom. The sound of running water fills the silence, a gentle reminder of his comforting presence. Moments later, he returns with a damp cloth in hand, his touch gentle yet firm as he kneels before you. With tender care, he cradles your jaw, his movements deliberate as he gently wipes away the remnants of makeup from your face, his actions speaking volumes of his unwavering support and affection.

"All clean," he whispers softly, discarding the cloth onto the ground with the intention of dealing with it later. "What do you need?"

"You." You sniffle, tugging gently at his hand to convey your desire for him to join you in bed. Without hesitation, Sirius kicks off his shoes and slips under the covers beside you. With a tender gesture, he reaches out, his hand gently brushing the hair away from your face as he settles in beside you. Your faces hover mere inches apart, a tantalizing proximity that he tries to distract from by focusing on the simple task of brushing your hair away, the urge to kiss you tugging at the corners of his mind.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pull you away from the party." You murmur apologetically, your gaze meeting his. His eyes snap to yours, a flicker of offense crossing his features.

"I would drop anything for you." He responds earnestly, his sincerity shining through in his words, leaving no room for doubt. A sharp inhale escapes your lips as you stare back at him, the weight of his commitment settling between you.

"What happened, angel?" he asks gently, his eyes reflecting a hint of guilt for prying. As your eyes well up with tears once more, Sirius feels a pang of remorse for pressing the matter. He's about to apologize and suggest forgetting about it when you offer an answer, leaving him momentarily speechless.

"I overheard Peter and Remus." You confess, your voice trembling with vulnerability. Sirius forces down the surge of jealousy that threatens to consume him at the mention of Remus. 

"Peter told him that everyone thought he and I would get together." You continue, your words hanging in the air, heavy with disappointment and hurt. Sirius listens attentively, his heart aching for the pain etched in your voice.

"Remus told him that he couldn’t ever see me like that." You reveal, your voice wavering with emotion. "I know it’s stupid since he has a girlfriend, but-" You pause to draw in a shuddering breath, and Sirius gently brushes away the tears that cascade down your cheeks and over the bridge of your nose.

"It hurt," you confess, the rawness of your emotions laid bare. "That he’s never once seen me the way I have always seen him. We’ve always been just friends, and it sucks." Each word carries the weight of your longing and disappointment.

Sirius sighs, his voice tinged with empathy, "I love Remus, I do, but he can be blind sometimes. So in his head and down on himself that he misses what’s in front of him. And he truly missed out on the most perfect girl there is. But I promise you that there is a guy out there who will recognize what an angel you are, and he won’t ever let you go."

Your eyes well up with tears again, and Sirius starts to panic that he said something wrong. But then you're wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your head into the crook of his neck.

Your voice is muffled as you speak, "Please stay here with me tonight?"

"Whatever you want, angel." Sirius responds tenderly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, knowing there is no way he’d ever be able to deny you.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

James looks bewildered. "You aren’t going to sit with us?" he asks, confusion evident in his voice.

You stand behind your typical spot, observing the boys' reactions as they stare at you as though you've just delivered the worst news imaginable. For years, ever since you had met the boys, you had been sitting with them every day. This spot held a sense of familiarity and comfort, a symbol of your friendship with them. Thus, your decision to sit with the girls today comes as a major surprise.

Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas occupy seats further down the table. While they would occasionally join your circle, especially after Lily and James got together, Lily had once confided in you that she valued having space and prioritizing her friendships, too; she didn’t want to spend all her time with James. To everyone's surprise, James had been okay with this arrangement and had even agreed.

“I’m going to sit down the table with the girls. You’ll still be able to see me; we can wave at each other!” You offer James a hopeful smile, but he shakes his head, letting out a dramatic sigh.

Pointing his fork in your direction, James asserts, “It’s not the same, and you know it.”

“Sit with us, I feel like I hardly see you.” Remus protests and your stomach sinks as you make eye contact with him. Ever since you overheard Remus tell Peter he didn’t have feelings for you, you had been finding every excuse possible to avoid him.

It’s been a week since the party, and you can now admit that you've successfully avoided any alone time with Remus. By now, it's clear he senses something amiss. Every time he tries to approach you, you have an excuse ready for why you can't study together again or why you can't chat. What's worse is that it's only him you're avoiding. You still engage in normal chats with Peter in the common room and banter back and forth with James as usual. And Sirius, well, you hardly leave his side. Wherever you go, Sirius isn't far away, a constant presence by your side.

Not only that, but it seemed as if you couldn't get enough of each other—cuddled up on the common room couch, shoulder to shoulder during meals, and always side by side while walking to Black Lake. Sirius and you were growing increasingly closer with each passing day.

It was driving Remus crazy.

He looks at you pleadingly, his expression betraying the torment of seeing you drift away from him. You know his distress can't stem solely from your decision to sit with the girls. He started pulling away first, you think bitterly.

"Just wanted to spend some time with the girls, switch things up." You explain with a casual shrug, feeling a sense of awkwardness creeping over you as you shift on your feet. Remus wears a disappointed expression, while James and Peter appear to have already moved on, engaged in a bickering match over who gets the last orange.

"You've been switching things up quite a bit lately." Remus grumbles under his breath, his voice barely audible over the morning chatter in the dinning hall. Only Adeline catches his words as she pulls away to glance at his face, startled by the bitterness in his tone. Unaware of her scrutiny, Remus remains fixated on you, his expression betraying a mixture of longing and frustration.

"Okay, well, I’ll catch you guys later." You announce with a smile, and at that moment, Sirius glances up at you. He wants to tell you how much he'll miss you. Every morning, he eagerly anticipates the sight of your smile, the way you playfully bump your shoulder into his once you take your spot beside him. Your laughter and sweet smile are the highlights of his morning routine.

He'd gladly join you for breakfast with the girls if you asked.

To everyone's surprise, you sling your arms around Sirius' shoulders and tilt your head forward, looking at him from the side. Caught off guard, Sirius freezes in your embrace, trying desperately not to read too much into your unexpected touch.

"I'll wait for you so we can walk to class together. I'll miss you." You whisper, your lips pressing gently onto his cheek. A faint pink sheen of your lipgloss remains on his skin in the shape of your lips, a subtle reminder of your affection.

Before he can respond, you're already pulling away, leaving Sirius to watch you walk back to the girls. His cheeks flush, his mouth slightly parted in surprise. Remus narrows his eyes at the mark you've left behind while Adeline observes the interaction between Sirius and Remus, sensing Remus's agitation.

James lets out a low whistle. "She'll miss you, will she?" he remarks, his tone laced with amusement and curiosity.

“Oh fuck off, mate.” Sirius grumbles before taking a sip of his tea to try and hide his smile.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

You sigh, slumping down in your chair, "I don’t think I can handle another flashcard."

Sirius glances up from across the table, finding you lost in contemplation as you stare out the window. It's midday, and the sun's gentle rays illuminate the library, casting a warm glow despite the lingering chill outside. You both share the longing to step into the crisp air outdoors, yet Sirius remained steadfast in his commitment to assisting you with your studies.

"Do you wanna take a break?" Sirius asks, his gaze meeting yours as you glance up from the pile of books and notes spread out before you. Your lips press together, betraying the weight of your internal debate about whether you can afford to step away from your tasks.

"Come on, we can go for a walk." He encourages, his tone gentle yet persuasive as he begins to gather his belongings, preparing to pack his bag.

You concede, “A quick walk.”

The fresh air and the warmth of the sun against your skin felt rejuvenating after spending hours cooped up in the library. Your body ached, and your brain felt numb from the relentless studying. The only thing that kept you going was Sirius, who would slip you pieces of chocolate every time you answered a question correctly. Without him, you would have abandoned your studies hours ago.

As you walk, both of you are enveloped in a quiet tranquility, lost in your own thoughts. It's a comfortable silence, where neither of you feels compelled to fill the gaps with conversation. Instead, you simply bump into each other occasionally, exchanging shy smiles that speak volumes without a single word being uttered.

"Where are you taking me, Black?" You finally inquire, noting the direction as you pass Black Lake. You stroll leisurely, savoring the symphony of birdsong in the trees and the distant chatter of other students gradually fading into the background. Leaves shudder in response to the gentle breeze, prompting you to wrap your robes tighter around your body. Winter is approaching, and the biting chill in the air serves as a stark reminder of the season's impending arrival.

Sirius smiles in response, his expression warm and inviting, "Somewhere I think you'll like."

"Have I been there before?" You cast a glance at him, observing his wind-blown hair, cheeks flushed pink from the cold, and his bottom lip gently caught between his teeth.

"I hope not." He responds honestly, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. The possibility lingers, given that the boys are familiar with this field as well. The mere thought of Remus bringing you here tightens his chest. After all, you and Remus often took walks together, so it wouldn't be too surprising if he had.

Would Remus have brought you here, though? Sirius contemplates quietly. He's never heard you mention it, but he knows you would have. You've always cherished exploring the castle and eagerly shared your discoveries with the boys.

Sirius is startled when you suddenly gasp, excitement laced in your tone, "Oh my Godric. Is that a field of tulips?"

Sirius feels his heart swell at the excitement in your voice. Before he can respond, you stride ahead of him, drawn to the swath of red flowers like a magnet. He remains where he stands, content to watch you as you explore the vibrant field.

A pang of longing washes over him as he wishes he had Lily's muggle camera. This moment would undoubtedly be captured and proudly displayed above his desk among his collection of Polaroids.

"C'mere!" You call out excitedly, your hand extended towards him. Sirius grins, his heart lightening at your enthusiasm as he walks over to join you. Once he reaches you, he gladly grasps your hand, feeling a rush of warmth at the connection.

You lead him further into the field, your laughter carrying on the gentle breeze. Finally, you drop into the middle of the sea of tulips, tugging him along with you, and for a moment, the world feels suspended in the beauty of the moment.

Tilting your head towards the sun, you sigh happily. "I didn’t know this was here," you remark, your voice filled with wonder.

"Found it with the boys a couple of weeks ago." Sirius responds, his fingers idly twirling a blade of grass he plucked from the ground.

"Did you pick the tulips you gave me from here?" You inquire, your voice soft with curiosity. Sirius nods in response, a faint blush gracing his cheeks as he recalls the memory. He's relieved that your eyes are still closed, blissfully unaware of his flustered state.

For a few minutes, a comfortable silence settles between you both, allowing the tranquility of the moment to envelop you like a warm embrace.

"Can I tell you something?" You ask, tilting your head back down to look at him, your gaze soft yet curious.

"Anything," Sirius replies, his voice filled with warmth and genuine interest.

"I've never been given flowers before. Whenever you give me a tulip, it's the highlight of my day." You admit softly, shifting so you're sitting with your legs crossed, a vulnerable honesty coloring your words.

"You've never been given flowers? Ever?" Sirius questions, his surprise evident in his tone and expression. You shake your head in response, confirming his disbelief.

He can't even fathom it. How could no one ever have given you flowers before? How does the girl who constantly doodles flowers on her notes never receive them? The thought perplexes him, stirring a mix of incredulity and a newfound determination to ensure you receive the appreciation you deserve.

"Guess I'll be making up for that then." Sirius decides, his voice showing determination as he sends you a devastating smile. Your stomach flutters at the sight.

"Sirius." you say softly, drawing his attention.

"What, angel?" He responds, his tone gentle and attentive.

"Thank you. For being by my side through everything." You express with sincerity, your voice filled with gratitude. 

In the past few weeks, Sirius has been a constant presence by your side. Whenever Remus kissed Adeline, Sirius would offer a comforting touch, silently understanding your feelings. He'd weave silly stories to divert your attention from Adeline's flirtations with Remus, ensuring you never felt alone for even a moment.

He grins in response, "There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

“Nowhere else, huh?” Your tone is teasing, and Sirius merely rolls his eyes at you, a playful glint dancing in his eyes. You observe him as he picks tulips one by one, gradually assembling a bundle in his hand. Watching him put together a bouquet that you know he will give you fills you with a sense of anticipation. Everything about sitting in a field of flowers with Sirius makes you feel lightheaded as if you're caught in a blissful dream.

Come to think of it, lately, every time Sirius did something for you, it left you feeling dizzy.

"You know it's true. I ditched Hogsmeade this weekend to spend time with you in the library." Sirius says, a hint of amusement in his voice as he recalls the decision.

"That's true, but I did advise you against it. I doubt a day in the library is much of a weekend highlight for you." You reply, raising an eyebrow playfully.

"If you think seeing you surrounded by a field of flowers isn't a weekend highlight, then you're sorely mistaken. Easily a monthly highlight for me." Sirius adds, his eyes sparkling with fondness as he gazes at you amidst the scenic beauty.

“You flirt.” You giggle, your laughter echoing in the tranquil atmosphere, before reclining on the grass and shutting your eyes.

Sirius' features soften at your playful remark. "Only for my favorite girl," he responds tenderly, his voice carrying warmth and affection as he watches over you.

What started as a short walk stretched into two hours spent in the flower field, immersed in conversation and selecting the loveliest blooms together. By the end, Sirius presented you with a bundle of tulips in various hues. Upon entering your dorm room with the flowers in hand, Lily's gasp was so pronounced that it startled you.

“Tell me that Sirius got you those.”

"He picked them for me." You beam, offering the bouquet to Lily for her admiration. "I mean, I helped too, but it was mostly him.”

“Who knew that he was such a romantic?” Marlene gushed, sitting next to Lily on her bed to take a peek.

“I told you he’s into you! Look at these flowers!” Lily cried out, flopping back onto her bed with the flowers pressed into her chest. Marlene laughs from beside her.

You rolled your eyes affectionately, “We're just friends.” Marlene scoffs.

"No, you're not. That little stunt at breakfast you pulled this morning. Hugging him from behind and kissing him? Definitely not platonic." Marlene remarks, her tone teasing yet observant. Embarrassment floods through you; you hadn't planned on being so affectionate with Sirius; it just happened. You're grateful Sirius didn't bring it up; you probably would have collapsed if he had. 

"I just kissed his cheek!" you defend, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks.

Lily grins mischievously. "You should've seen how he looked at you when you walked away."

"Totally lovesick!" Marlene exclaims, adding her enthusiastic agreement to Lily's observation.

"Both of you are being ridiculous. He doesn’t have feelings for me, and even if he did, I need to get over Remus first." Taking the bouquet from Lily, you stride toward your desk to add them to your glass jar full of other flowers. You're almost out of the room. Soon you’ll have to pluck out the ones that are dropping, but you don’t have the heart to do it yet.

The girls were fully aware of the situation. You explained to them why you were so upset the morning after the party. There was no way you could have pretended like something wasn’t wrong. With Sirius sleeping in your bed and your swollen eyes, there was no hiding anything.

"First?" Lily's voice carries a hint of excitement, exchanging a giddy look with Marlene.

You pivot, leaning against your desk. "What?"

"You said first. Like once you get over Remus, you could see yourself being with Sirius."

"No, I didn't." You protest, embarrassment flooding your stomach.

Marlene's grin widens mischievously as she exchanges a knowing glance with Lily. "Oh, but you did. We both heard you."

A nervous laugh escapes your lips as you playfully roll your eyes, "Oh, fuck off, guys.” 

Your friends continue to tease you, their laughter filling the room. Perhaps you were starting to form feelings for Sirius, but you preferred to keep them close to your heart, away from the probing eyes of Lily and Marlene, who always seemed to pick up on every subtle shift in your emotions.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

“There you are! I was worried sick!” James exclaims as Sirius opens the door to the dorm. Remus glances up from his book, while Peter remains focused on his homework, unfazed by James' dramatics. Sirius, lost in memories of his afternoon with you, barely registers James' words as he flops onto his bed, a goofy smile lingering on his lips.

It's only when James tosses his pillow at Sirius that he snaps back to reality.

“Oi! What was that for?” Sirius protests, finally acknowledging James' presence with a bemused expression.

“You’re ignoring me!” James accuses, crossing his arms.

Sirius stammers, “I wasn’t! I was just-“

James interrupts, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “Daydreaming about Y/n? What did you two get up to anyways?”

Remus stiffens, lowering his book to look at Sirius, “You were with Y/n today?”

Sirius sits back up and exchanges a tense glance with Remus, “Yeah, I was.”

He turns to James, “Helped her study a bit.” He neglects to mention the flower field, wanting to keep that memory to himself. Plus, he knows the boys will tease them every chance they get.

James stares at Sirius, incredulity flashing across his face. "That's all? Sounds boring. Should've come to Hogsmeade with us."

Sirius is about to respond when Remus interjects, his tone betraying a hint of disbelief. "I'm sorry. You turned down Hogsmeade to study? With Y/n?" His eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"Yes." Sirius says plainly.

“I’ll ask her to study.” Remus assures, as if that would settle Sirius.

Sirius shrugs, his tone nonchalant. "No need, mate. I've got her."

Remus furrows his brow, considering Sirius's response. "I can still ask her, give her another option," he suggests casually, but there's an undertone of something that Sirius can't quite decipher.

Sirius tenses, meeting Remus's gaze head-on. He's unsure if Remus is hinting at something deeper or if he's simply offering another study option. Nevertheless, Sirius feels a pang of reluctance at the thought of giving up his time with you, even for studying.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Peter huffed, practically slamming himself on the couch next to you, his frustration evident in the way he dropped onto the couch. “Remus and Adeline are getting on my last nerve.”

James glanced up from where he was sitting across from you, his attention momentarily diverted from the game of cards. His eyebrows raised in curiosity as he observed Peter's demeanor. "They makin’ out in the dorm again?" he questioned, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

You turn your head to hide your reaction, your stomach churning with familiar discomfort. After nearly two months of their relationship, you still felt uneasy hearing about them together, effectively reminding you of your lingering feelings for Remus.

It would be a lie to say that your feelings for Remus hadn’t changed. In fact, you were beginning to notice a subtle shift in your perspective, a gradual easing of the discomfort that once swarmed your chest at the sight of him and Adeline together. That twinge of jealousy you used to feel when looking at them was easing up, instead being replaced by a dull ache in your chest.

You found yourself increasingly preoccupied with thoughts of Sirius, his smile and the memories of your time together occupying your mind more frequently than before. You caught yourself smiling at the little moments you shared, replaying conversations and gestures, finding comfort in the warmth of his presence even when he wasn't around.

Peter shook his head against the cushion, his expression irritated. "No, they’re bickering. They've been at it for nearly twenty minutes. Couldn’t get a damn thing done on this essay.”

James wore a look of surprise as he arched his eyebrow, “They’re fighting?”

Peter looked away from the fire to glance over at James blankly, “No, bickering. There’s a difference.” His tone is matter-of-fact and laced with frustration.

“We’ll be quiet, Peter. Work on your essay.” You promise, sending the blond boy a soft smile.

James’ lips curve in a mischievous grin, eyes lit up with amusement, “Guess all relationships have to come out of the honeymoon phase.” He quips, tone playful with satisfaction. Peter sighs, tipping his head back onto the headrest of the couch like he can’t take anymore.

“James, it’s your turn.” You call, the gentle tap of your pointer finger against the cards catches his attention. His eyes flicker down to the cards sprawled between you both before glancing back up at you.

“Did you at least appreciate my pun?” He asks, a hopeful upturn of his lips present.

“It was wonderful.” You affirm, voice soft as if you’re telling a young child that their artwork is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen.

James’s face lights up with a satisfied smile, and his voice is full of teasing gratitude, “Thank you, Y/n. I knew you would have my back.”

“What does she have your back about?” Sirius’ voice cuts through the air, his sudden appearance causing you and James to glance over at him. Peter opens one eye as Sirius sits on the couch next to him.

James stares at the cards while debating his next move, “She appreciates me for who I am. Maybe you should take some notes from her.” 

Sirius hardly hears James. Instead, his eyes flicker over to you. He finds himself entranced by the subtle movements of your features, the way your eyebrows furrow in playful impatience as you await James to decide. The glow from the fire is dancing over your face, and he has the urge to reach out and touch your cheek, tracing over where the heat has touched. You look gorgeous like this, drenched in the soft light of the fire and so at ease. The words are at the tip of his tongue, but he swallows them down.

As your eyes meet his, a gentle smile graces your lips, and Sirius feels his stomach flip and heart stutter. You’re looking at him with so much warmth that you could rival the fire next to you, and he knows he never wants to forget the way you’re looking at him.

Amidst the crackle of the fire and the soft murmurs of the surrounding conversations, it’s then that Sirius is struck by the sudden realization that sends shockwaves throughout his entire body. He is hit with the truth that he’s been avoiding for ages; he is entirely and desperately in love with you.

Sirius grapples with a fact that feels almost suffocating in its intensity. His gaze falls to his lap, the reality of his situation weighing heavily upon him. He’s in love with a girl who holds feelings for someone else. Not just someone else, but Remus. His best mate, who, as of lately, has shown increasing concern about the nature of your relationship with Sirius. The way he pinches his brows together when you laugh at a joke Sirius makes, the subtle shifts in his demeanor whenever you show Sirius affection- it’s all Sirius can focus on. Remus sees you in a different light, and it’s making Sirius uneasy.

And so, he sits in silence, grappling with the truth that he’s fallen for a girl that will never be his.

“Sirius,” You say softly, your hand gently resting atop his, hoping to bring him back from his thoughts. His eyes dart up to meet yours, and you smile softly. “You okay? You’re quiet.”

No, he isn’t. 

But instead, he offers a reassuring smile and squeezes your hand, “I’m okay, angel. Just tired.”

“Not too tired to lose to me in cards, are you?” James interjects, sporting a cocky grin and cracking his knuckles in intimidation. “I’m tired of playing with Y/n. She wins every time.”

Sirius laughs, hauling himself off the couch to sit beside you both before shuffling the cards.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

“Y/n.” You startle at Remus’ voice, nearly spilling your cup of tea down your front. He sends you a soft smile, sitting beside you on the couch. You set your tea on the table next to you. Sitting up and shifting your legs to the side and underneath you, you make room for him. The way you were stretched out before hardly allowed him any room.

“Rem.” You greet him, sending him a gentle smile. The corners of his mouth lift at the nickname; he hasn’t heard it for a while.

He leans back against the couch, gaze firm on you, “How was your day?” His voice is gentle and soothing. His voice was always one of your favorite things about him, always a source of comfort to you.

“It’s been alright, not too much to say about it,” Your left shoulder lifts up into a shrug, and you rest your right arm against the couch to prop your head up. Bodies both facing each other. “How was yours?”

“James nearly singed off my eyebrows in potions,” He says amusedly. He’s got bags under his, and his body seems tired. You cringe when you remember the full moon was just a few days ago.

“Not entirely surprising,” You remark with a laugh, mind trailing to all the times James had proved himself not the best partner. As much as you loved James, his tendency to get distracted had cost you during classes plenty of times before. 

“How’s Adeline?” You ask politely, the words coming out with practiced ease despite the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach. Remus’s smile falters, and he lets out a sigh, gaze drifting away from you.

“I don’t know.” He admits, hand coming up to run through his hair. He won’t meet your eye.

“You don’t know?” Your brow is quirks in curiosity, and genuine concern is etched onto your features. Memories of Peter complaining about the two bickering flickers back from a week ago.

“She’s not happy,” Remus confesses, his tone is heavy with resignation. “Disappearing for a couple days doesn’t exactly make me boyfriend of the year.”

You nod sympathetically. You understand, if you were in the dark about your boyfriend’s whereabouts for a couple days, you would be upset as well.

“Are you going to tell her?” You asked gently. It felt weird to talk to Remus again after going nearly two months without much interaction. All your time used to be spent with Remus, but Sirius seems to have taken that spot nowadays.

His gaze meets yours as he nervously bites at his bottom lip, he seems apprehensive, “I don’t know if she could handle it.”

“Rem,” You begin, voice soft and resolute, a reflection of the support you have always offered him. Despite the change in your relationship, your commitment to being there for him remains. “She deserves to know, especially if the two of you want to be together.”

His brows are pinched tightly together as he wrings his hands together, “What if she doesn’t take it well? What if she tells-”

You interject gently, “You’ve been dating two months, you should have a feel for how she would react.” 

He meets your eye with an uncertainty, “Y/n.”

“Yeah?” You respond, voice quiet.

“I don’t know if I can tell her. I don’t think it will be as easy as telling you was.”

“You shouldn’t compare her to me.”

“But I do.” Remus whispers, the gravity of his admission catching you off guard. His shoulders are hunched over as he rests his elbows on his knees, hands still nervously wringing together as he looks over at you.

Your breath is caught in your throat. You break eye contact to clear your throat, shifting uneasily on the couch.

“Adeline is your girlfriend, and I’m just your friend. You really shouldn’t compare us, Rem. If you want to be with Adeline, you should really think about telling her.” You murmur, truth stinging as it leaves your mouth.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Marlene sighs, her voice laced with playful incredulity, "Sometimes I wonder how James Potter managed to get you." Sirius barks out a laugh from his spot across from you, his amusement echoing around the room. Lily's mischievous grin widens as she shoots a playful wink at Marlene, enjoying the banter.

"I'm a damn catch, McKinnon!" James retorts dramatically, pulling Lily even closer into his side, the affection between them palpable. Lily leans up to press a kiss on James’ jaw, a tender moment amidst the playful teasing.

"That lapdance you just gave your girlfriend? Horrific." Marlene shakes her head with exaggerated disdain, her expression a mix of amusement and mock disgust.

"If you didn't wanna see it, then you wouldn't have dared me to do it," James fires back with a smirk, the competitive edge still in his tone.

You're all gathered in a circle, indulging in a juvenile game of truth or dare. The boys took charge, rearranging the furniture into a circle so everyone could sit comfortably.

Marlene had insisted upon it, likely hoping to be roped into a dare that would bring her closer to Dorcas. 

You're seated on one of the couches beside Lily, with James on her other side and Peter beside him. Adeline occupies the space to Peter’s left, seated next to Remus on one of the smaller couches. Sirius has claimed an armchair for himself. Marlene and Dorcas are cozied up in another armchair, much to Marlene's delight over the seating arrangement.

While Remus had yet to tell Adeline about his lycanthropy, he was attempting to make amends with her. You sent him a sweet smile and thumbs up when you saw them walking in together. It was clearly tense between the two, but that was to be expected.

Amidst the laughter and playful exchanges, you had failed to notice the tension simmering between Sirius and Remus, evident in the disgruntled glances they exchanged at being seated next to each other.

James turns to you with a devious grin, “My sweet Y/n, you will be picking dare.”

“Excuse me? You can’t pick for me!” You retort, sending James an incredulous look.

“But I have the best dare for you!” James insists, leaning closer with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“No.” You refuse, shaking your head slightly.

“Y/n, please.” He pleads, attempting to send you puppy dog eyes. Marlene snorts from beside you.

Lily sighs, “Y/n, do the dare. He will beg you all night.” You roll your eyes, letting out a sigh that immediately lets James know you have given in.

“Kiss the person you are most attracted to in this room.” Your stomach sinks like a stone, regretting your lack of resistance to James. The group around you comes alive with oohs, except for Remus and Sirius, who sit uneasily, their expressions displaying discomfort.

“Absolutely not. I can’t!” Sirius feels sick. You’re refusing because you can’t kiss Remus- that has to be it. 

“Sorry, can’t back out now! Make your way over to the lucky person.” James sounds far too cheery to be sorry.

The tension in the air becomes palpable as everyone awaits your decision. You draw in a deep breath, summoning your courage before rising to your feet and crossing the room toward him. The anticipation is almost tangible as your friends murmur excitedly, their eyes fixed on you.

You come to a sudden halt, feeling your knees bump against his as he instinctively sits straighter in his chair. Sensing your approach, he spreads his thighs slightly, silently inviting you to take the space between them. His demeanor shifts, a mix of anticipation and apprehension evident in his expression.

"Might make it easier if you sit in his lap." Marlene suggests with a mischievous grin, earning a pointed glare from you over your shoulder.

"You can, angel," he murmurs sweetly, reaching out to gently grasp your hand, his touch reassuring and electric. 

You let out a shaky sigh, feeling a rush of nerves as you ease yourself into his lap, your knees sinking into the cushion and your thighs naturally bracketing his. Ignoring the whistles and playful comments that ring out from your friends, you focus on the warmth of his body beneath you, the steady rhythm of his breath, and the way his hands hover uncertainly before settling lightly on your hips.

"We're waiting!" James calls out, amusement laced in his tone, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Feeling a rush of determination, you gently bring your hand to his cheek, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver down your spine and lowering your head towards his. He's quick to meet you, his breath mingling with yours, noses bumping softly in a moment of sweet anticipation.

He's patient, his breath mixing with yours as he waits for you to make the first move. With a tender touch, you tilt your face closer, feeling the gentle brush of your lips against his in the softest kiss. For a fleeting moment, you both linger there, foreheads pressed together, lost in the moment’s intimacy.

“Tell me this isn’t because you couldn’t kiss him.” His voice is raspy, filled with longing, sending your mind spiraling. His voice is quiet, ensuring that no one will hear him but you.

“You’re the only one I thought of.” You admit softly, hoping you don’t sound nearly as wrecked as you feel.

Sirius surges forward, his lips meeting yours with a passion that catches you off guard, causing a surprised moan to settle in your throat, lost in the whirlwind of sensations and emotions. Your friends' whistles and hollers fade into the background, overshadowed by the intensity of your focus on Sirius.

Your fingers weave through his hair, a silent plea to draw him closer, to merge the space between you. His hand glides from your hip, settling tenderly against your cheek, his thumb tracing gentle circles across your skin. When you roll your hips involuntarily, Sirius lets out a tortured groan and your blood simmers.

"Okay, okay! We've seen enough!" James hollers, his voice breaking you both out of the moment. As James's voice echoes through the air, you part from Sirius, the gravity of what you have both just done settles in. Your chests heave in unison, lips swollen from kisses and cheeks flushed.

Frozen, you and Sirius sit there, stunned, oblivious to the teasing of your friends. The air crackles with tension as you both lock gazes, the desire to lean in and kiss him again overwhelming you.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Your mind remains frazzled in the aftermath of kissing Sirius. No matter how much you attempt to push it away, it's as though your body stubbornly clings to the memory of his lips upon yours, as if you're still nestled in his lap, feeling the gentle pressure of his hands on your hips. Both of you exchanged shy smiles as you gently slid off his lap, yet inside, your stomach churned with disappointment at the prospect of returning to your previous seat. Truthfully, you wanted to linger longer, to settle beneath his arm, and remain close to him.

In all honesty, Remus didn't even flicker into your thoughts when James issued his dare. The realization of this truth sends a shiver down your spine. When had Sirius managed to steal the place in your thoughts that Remus had held for so long?

Perhaps it was in the way he had cared for you like no one else ever had.

The sight of a steaming cup of tea, reliably waiting for you in your designated spot at the table. Even when he could have been enjoying himself in Hogsmeade, he chose to stay behind and help you study, just because you mentioned not having Remus to study with. And the simple yet heartfelt gesture of presenting you with fresh tulips just because you mentioned you had never gotten flowers before.

How had you moved on from Remus without even noticing? Perhaps that subtle ache in your chest whenever you glanced at Remus and Adeline stemmed from the change in friendship between you both. Maybe those tear-filled initial weeks spent with Sirius comforting you were a form of grieving the relationship that could never be with Remus. 

While Sirius helped you to get over Remus, he had been gently guiding you toward developing feelings for him instead without even realizing it.

After watching your kiss with Sirius, Remus withdrew from the game entirely. The memory of your intimate moment with Sirius replayed incessantly in his mind, each repetition adding to the sting in his chest. In a fleeting moment of vulnerability, he had allowed himself to entertain the hope that it might have been him you chose to kiss. However, the presence of Adeline at his side swiftly extinguished that flicker of optimism, leaving him feeling profoundly disappointed and conflicted with himself.

The sight of Sirius enveloping you in his arms, and the undeniable chemistry between the two of you, stirred a thick feeling of dread in his stomach.

Each soft kiss, each exchanged glance, seemed to intensify the bitter pang of jealousy gnawing at his insides. It was as though a veil had been lifted, revealing a reality he had been trying to deny—the depth of his feelings for you. And the realization that he might lose you for good.

"Remus! Truth or dare?" Dorcas inquired, her eyes alight with mischief.

Remus let out a resigned sigh; he wasn't particularly in the mood to deal with a dare.

"Truth," he replied, hoping for a relatively simple question.

Dorcas wasted no time in posing her question, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Who was your first big crush?"

The simplicity of the question drew an immediate protest from James. "Lame!" he squawked, his tone dripping with dissatisfaction. "Ask him something better."

Marlene swiftly came to Dorcas's defense, her voice laced with defiance. "Back off, James," she retorted sharply. "She can ask whatever the hell she wants,” She bit out before turning to Dorcas. “Great question, love." Her words sounded entirely lovesick.

"Uh, my first big crush was Y/n." Remus confessed, his gaze darting toward you, eager to gauge your reaction amidst the tension. However, he failed to notice the subtle tensing of Adeline beside him, her expression morphing into one of disbelief as his words hung in the air.

Your brows furrowed, a mixture of confusion and frustration etched across your features as you processed Remus's unexpected admission. The weight of his words lingered, casting a palpable awkwardness over the group as you responded with an unimpressed look.

Sirius felt a surge of nausea rising within him, his gaze narrowing at Remus before anxiously darting over to you, waiting with bated breath to see how you would react to Remus's unexpected confession. Each second felt like an eternity as he searched for any sign of your thoughts or emotions, his heart pounding in his chest with a mixture of dread and anticipation.

As he watched your expression carefully, Sirius couldn't help but wonder what you were thinking. Were you filled with hope at his confession? Did you still want him?

“That’s not funny, Rem.” You retort, sending him an entirely unimpressed look.

“I’m not joking.” He insists, his voice has a hint of vulnerability in it. Adeline sends him an incredulous look, but his eyes are solely trained on you.

“That’s bullshit.” You countered, your voice laced with frustration as you pushed back. The tension between you and Remus was palpable, your friends watching both of you carefully. Unsure if they should intervene or not.

“It’s not. Started fourth year, I liked you for years.” Remus confesses, hand tugging through his hair in frustration.

“You said you would never have feelings for me.” Your brows are pinched in disbelief, your voice filled with hurt and frustration.

Remus looks entirely confused, “What are you talking about?”

“With Peter! At the party like a month ago.” You exclaim, memory fresh in your mind. While your feelings for Remus may have faded, the pain from his words hadn’t.

Remus shakes his head slowly, eyes searching yours for understanding, “I never said that, love.”

“You did. You told Peter, ‘I don’t think I could ever think about Y/n like that.’” You reiterated, your voice tinged with disappointment as Remus’s expression faltered, his own words echoing back to him.

“You didn’t hear the rest then.” He says, his voice filled with regret and desperation for you to understand.

Your frustration has bubbled to the surface, “Oh, great. So glad I didn’t stay to hear you continue about how awful it is that everyone thought we would end up together.” Your words are a mixture of sarcasm and hurt

"Y/n, I-" Remus began, his voice trailing off as you cut him off with a sharp interruption.

"Do you know what that feels like? To hear your best friend talk about you with so much disgust?" you demanded, the hurt evident in your voice as you confronted him head-on.

"I wasn’t disgusted!" Remus protested, his own frustration rising to meet yours. "You didn’t hear the rest!" he insisted, his tone tinged with desperation as he struggled to convey his side of the story.

"What else did you say?" It was Adeline who broke the tense silence, her voice cutting through the air like a knife. Remus's gaze shifted to her, startled by her sudden interjection. Her expression was one of disbelief, her brows furrowed and her arms crossed tightly over her chest, a silent testament to her own confusion and dismay at the unfolding situation.

"I said I didn’t think I could think about you like that because of-" Remus's voice faltered, his words hanging in the charged air. You leaned forward, your frustration palpable as you awaited his explanation, your gaze unwavering as you demanded clarity.

"Because of what, Remus?" You pressed, the tension thickening with each passing moment. Remus's eyes darted briefly to Sirius, a flicker of hesitation betraying his inner turmoil, but you caught the movement.

Sensing the rising tension, you glanced over at Sirius, who watches Remus with a tense look. His expression carried a silent message. Urging Remus to choose his words carefully.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Sirius grits out, his voice laced with a raw edge of warning. Remus's uncertainty is evident as he grapples with what he’s just implied.

“Do you still have feelings for her?” Adeline's voice trembles with devastation as she poses the question, her heart laid bare in the vulnerability of the moment. Sirius's reaction is immediate; he stands up abruptly, his movements tense with unspoken frustration as he strides towards the stairs, refusing to linger for Remus's response.

“Sirius.” You call out desperately, rising to your feet swiftly to intercept him. He starts heading for his dorm, but you gently grab his wrist and guide him toward yours instead. Without a word, he follows your lead until you reach your door, both of you stepping inside quietly.

Sirius doesn’t utter a word, his silence filling the space between you as he leans back against your door. His head tilts upward, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as if searching for answers in its expanse. 

You step closer, closing the distance between you, your footsteps echoing softly in the quiet room. With a gentle touch, you place your hand on his cheek, a tender gesture designed to draw his attention back to you. You find yourself more preoccupied with Sirius than the recent events downstairs. Dealing with the situation involving Remus can wait; at this moment, your main concern is resolving things with Sirius.

He lets out a sigh, the weight of his emotions palpable as he drops his gaze from the ceiling to meet yours. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice laced with a mixture of remorse and vulnerability.

You can't help but laugh incredulously at his apology, the sound carrying a blend of surprise and amusement. "What are you sorry for?" You inquire, your tone gentle yet tinged with curiosity, as you search his eyes for the answer.

He sighs, “That you found out this way.”

“About what?” You both know that you already know the answer but that you just want him to say it.

“About Remus’s feelings for you, about my feelings for you.” Sirius admits, his voice soft as he swallows harshly.

You take a deliberate step closer to him, closing the gap between you with a sense of purpose. "And what are your feelings for me?" you repeat, your tone carrying a playful lilt, a silent challenge lingering in your words, daring him to bare his heart to you.

"Y/n," he pleads softly, his hands instinctively finding their place on your hips, drawing you closer to him just an inch. “Remus pretty much spelled it out, didn’t he?”

"I don’t want to hear it from Remus, I want to hear it from you.” You assert, your voice tinged with determination as you press closer to him. His eyes flit down to the diminishing space between your bodies.

He sighs, a soft exhalation laden with unspoken emotions, “You drive me crazy.” He confesses, shaking his head in gentle disbelief. A grin spreads across your face, your heart lightening at the familiar banter between you.

"Yeah? Is that all?" you tease, a playful glint in your eyes as your arms rise to encircle his neck, drawing him closer.

His gaze softens, a hint of vulnerability shining through as he meets your eyes. "I’m crazy about you, have been since the moment I met you." He confesses, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth.

His words ignite a flutter of excitement in the pit of your stomach, a giddiness that bubbles up from within. Unable to contain the surge of emotions, you rise onto your toes, closing the gap between you as your lips meet his in a gentle kiss. He lets out a surprised hum, circling his arms around your waist and hauling you into him.

He pulls back slightly, resting his forehead on yours, his expression tinged with uncertainty, "Y/n,” He murmurs, his voice laced with apprehension, “I can’t do this if you still want Remus.”

You pull back slightly, creating a small space between you yet maintaining the intimacy of your connection as you gaze into his eyes. "Do you think I would have followed you if I still wanted Remus?" You inquire softly, your voice imbued with sincerity.

"I meant every word when I told you that you were the only one I thought of for James’ dare." You continue, your words carrying a gentle reassurance, seeking to dispel any lingering doubts or insecurities that may linger between you.

"I want you, Sirius." You whisper earnestly, your voice soft yet resolute, laying bare your desires and intentions as you seek clarity and connection with him.

The smile he gives you is radiant, brimming with unabridged happiness, illuminating his features with an undeniable warmth that reflects the depth of his emotions.

"I've been dreaming of you saying that for ages." You squeal with uncontainable delight as he dips down and scoops you up, your legs instinctively circling his waist. Together, you embark on a journey towards your bed, his steps sure and purposeful, each movement imbued with a sense of anticipation and excitement.

He settles onto the bed, seating you gently in his lap, and you can't help but giggle uncontrollably, the sound filling the room with infectious joy as you revel in the sheer exhilaration of the moment shared between you.

As you lean down and press your lips onto his, he exhales softly, as if shedding all his worries, finding true peace in the gentle brush of your lips against his. He's never encountered a feeling of rightness as profound as this throughout his life. He is completely done for.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Lily and Marlene didn't return to the dorm last night. After the awkward end to your game of truth or dare, you assumed they were giving you some space. And frankly, you were grateful for it. 

You weren't eager to delve into the topic of Remus confessing his past feelings for you. Although he didn't explicitly reveal whether or not those feelings still lingered, the reactions from both Adeline and Sirius served as a telling response.

You knew that a conversation with Remus was inevitable. Yet nervousness gnawed at you. What if there was no salvaging what remained of your friendship? Despite the awkwardness of the past few months, the desire to keep him in your life persisted, making the conversation all the more important.

The night unfolded with you and Sirius intertwined, lost in stolen kisses and hushed conversations within the dimly lit dorm. You had never felt so content in your whole life. Being with Sirius felt like a breath of fresh air. There were no lingering doubts about his feelings; his actions spoke volumes, leaving no room for uncertainty. Reflecting on the past, you couldn't help but wonder how you had ever been so blind to his affections.

“You almost ready m’love?” Sirius called, casting a glance your way as he deftly tied his tie in front of your mirror.

His endearment sent a flutter through your heart. It felt as though the kiss with Sirius last night had unleashed a torrent of emotions, flooding your senses with newfound intensity. It sent a thrill through your body, yet you felt somewhat disheartened as well. How had you managed to overlook Sirius for so long? He had been there all along, yet you found yourself pining over Remus, who had seemed indifferent to your feelings.

"Yeah, whenever you’re ready." You offered a soft smile as you slipped on your final shoe, steadying yourself with a gentle grip on the bedpost.

You rose to your full height, crossing the distance to Sirius, who advanced to meet you halfway, his hands finding their place on your hips. You encircled your arms around his neck, drawing yourself nearer to him. He smiled warmly down at you, delicately tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear before returning his hand to your hip.

"How do you want to go about this?" Sirius asked his brow furrowing with a hint of unease, his gaze searching yours for guidance.

Your brow pinched in confusion, "Go about what? Us?" For a brief moment, the idea crossed your mind – did Sirius want to go back to the way things were before? However, that thought evaporated as quickly as it appeared when you recalled the firmness of his embrace, the intensity in his gaze fixed upon you.

He nodded, his expression softening with concern. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I understand things might be tense with Remus, and I don’t want to make it harder for you."

"You know what I want?" Sirius tightened his embrace, prompting you to elaborate. "I want you to treat me like I’m yours, show everyone that we’re together. I couldn't care less about what anyone thinks." Both of you understood that anyone referred to Remus. Sirius remained silent, his gaze fixed on you, his expression indecipherable.

Your expression shifted to one of uncertainty, your brows furrowing slightly as you sought clarification. "We're together, right?" You asked, your voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability, searching his eyes for confirmation. 

Sirius's smile radiated such genuine warmth that a flutter of attraction danced in your stomach, “Yeah, baby. We’re together.” He couldn't fathom that he held you, his dream girl, in his arms, asking him if the two of you were together. It took him a moment to fully grasp the reality of the moment. 

He continued, “Don’t think that I’m not going to properly ask you to be mine, though, because I will. I promise.”

Unable to resist, you leaned in, capturing his lips with your own. Instantly, he responded, returning the kiss with equal fervor and intention.

With a reluctant sigh, you pulled away, your fingers lingering against his cheek as you whispered, "We need to get to breakfast."

"I think I can starve." Sirius shrugged nonchalantly, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes as he leaned down to capture your lips once more.

You couldn't help but giggle, gently pushing him away, "Stop it, we gotta go. We’re going to be late." You insisted, a hint of laughter dancing in your voice as you playfully nudged him towards the door, the lingering taste of his kiss still tingling on your lips.

As you entered the common room, a wave of surprise washed over you at the sight of all your friends gathered, comfortably sprawled across the couches and armchairs. You slowed to a stop, catching Sirius off guard as he turned to follow your gaze, his eyes widening in surprise as they landed on the familiar faces of your friends.

"We wanted to make sure you two were okay after last night," Lily paused, her gaze piercing as she shot a pointed glare at Remus, who visibly shrank into the couch cushions. He appeared exhausted as if he hadn't slept all night, and you couldn't help but notice Adeline's absence beside him. 

"But it looks like everything is good?" Lily continued, her voice hopeful as her eyes dropped down to where your hand intertwined with Sirius'.

"Everything's fine," you affirm, offering a soft smile as Sirius squeezes your hand reassuringly. "But I need to talk to you, Rem. Alone.” You add, your tone gentle yet firm, conveying the importance of the coming conversation.

Sirius is the first to break the tense silence, shifting slightly while the others remain rooted in place, their eyes flitting between Remus and you. The atmosphere feels charged with unease, and you can sense the weight of Lily's unspoken words lingering in the air, knowing full well she gave Remus a piece of her mind the moment you left last night.

Before he can move away, you pull him back, your hand gently tugging him closer as you press your lips to his. A surprised sound escapes him before his hands come up to hold your cheeks. Remus clenches his jaw, unable to watch as you both melt into each other. 

James lets out a low, appreciative whistle, and Lily suppresses a smile behind her hand. Peter and Dorcas avert their gaze shyly while Marlene beams at the sight of Sirius melting into you. It's evident that they're all on Team Sirius.

As you both draw back, your gazes locked in mutual adoration, Sirius places another swift kiss on your lips. "I'll have your tea waiting for you," he promises softly.

A bright smile spreads across your face. "Thank you," you reply, your voice filled with warmth and gratitude.

As Sirius finally draws back, the others follow suit. James is already by his best friend's side, chatting animatedly. Lily and Marlene exchange knowing grins with you, silently promising a conversation later. Meanwhile, Peter and Dorcas trail behind, engaging in casual conversation as they meander along.

You sigh, bracing yourself for what promises to be an awkward conversation, and then take a seat beside Remus on the couch. The tension in the air is palpable, amplified by the near emptiness of the common room. Remus sits up straight, stealing a glance in your direction, his demeanor reflecting the unease of the moment.

“Are you okay?” Remus looks mildly surprised, that wasn’t the first thing he expected you to ask.

He clears his throat nervously, “Uh, I’ve been better, honestly. Are you?” 

He observes as you gracefully draw your legs onto the couch, tucking them underneath you. Finally, you meet his gaze, and he's momentarily taken aback by your beauty. A pang of regret hits him like a wave – he wishes he had confronted his feelings for you earlier. Perhaps then, it would have been him sharing kisses with you instead of watching you with his best mate.

"I'm good." Remus watches as you absentmindedly bring your fingers up to brush against your lips, a lovesick expression softening your features. You appear momentarily lost in thought, a dazed quality to your gaze. 

Clearing your throat, you shake off your thoughts, "But I'm disappointed about last night. What on hell was that?"

"Y/n," Remus's voice quivered with sincerity as he addressed you, his eyes reflecting the remorse weighing heavily upon him. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to upset you." He whispered, the words thick with sincerity.. 

You sighed, the weight of your frustration and disappointment lacing your tone, "And Adeline?" Remus looked startled. In the wake of you rushing to follow Sirius, Adeline had bravely broached the subject of his feelings towards you. Caught off guard, Remus found himself grappling for words, acutely aware of his friends' scrutinizing gazes, which bore a mixture of astonishment and disapproval. His hesitation was a silent confession to Adeline, who gathered her belongings swiftly, her departure punctuating the air with an unspoken disappointment. In the ensuing silence, Remus remained rooted, torn between pursuing you and granting you the space he sensed you needed. Regrettably, the thought of going after Adeline hadn't even crossed his mind amidst the dread sitting heavy in his stomach. Remus understood he had messed up, and the weight of his mistake hung heavy upon him.

“She left. I don’t blame her, I hurt her. Who gets a girlfriend when they have feelings for someone else?” A laugh escaped Remus, laden with incredulity. 

His words prompted you to avert your gaze, a subtle gesture betraying the unease settling in the pit of your stomach. The acknowledgment that his feelings for you still lingered left you with an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Silence settles between you both, and it's excruciatingly awkward.

“I’m falling in love with Sirius,” You blurt out, nervously stealing a glance at him, eager to gauge his reaction. “I just, I need you to know that there’s no way anything could’ve happened between us. A couple months ago it would’ve been entirely different. But I was devastated, Rem. Do you know how hard it was for me to watch you be with Adeline? How much that hurt? And then you just admit you have feelings in front of everyone no less, like it wasn’t a big deal. In front of your girlfriend, who clearly cares so much about you. I don’t understand.”

"Dorcas asked—" He began, his voice sounded shaky.

"But you could've passed, or chosen to say another old crush's name!" Your interjection cut through the air, sharp and pointed.

"But there wasn't anyone else." He countered, his words tinged with a hint of desperation.

"Remus." His name hung in the air, heavy with frustration. You sent him with a glare heavy with irritation, and the intensity of your gaze churned a nauseating knot in his stomach.

"I was jealous, okay? To see Sirius hold you and kiss you like I have always wanted was awful. I couldn’t get you out of my head, and then Dorcas asked, and I just said your name."

"Godric, Rem!" You huffed, frustration coloring your tone. "If you had just told me months ago, we could’ve avoided this entire mess." Remus opened his mouth to speak, but you interjected, your words tumbling out with raw emotion. "But at the same time? I’m so grateful that you didn’t tell me, and that Sirius was there, because then I would’ve missed out on a guy who was never afraid to show me that I was his first choice.”

Remus remained silent, his gaze fixed intently on his intertwined fingers. You sat tense on the couch beside him, the air heavy with unresolved tension.

Remus’ eyes are filled with tears when he turns to you, “I know there’s no chance for us anymore, but Y/n, I don’t want to lose you as my best friend. Not having you around the last couple months have been hard. I miss you, and I understand if you’re not ready for that or don’t even want to be my friend. But Y/n, I will do anything to make this up to you.”

 You felt a lump form in your throat, a wave of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. With a harsh sigh, you turned to Remus, your gaze a mixture of hurt and determination.

"Our friendship won't be fixed right away," you admitted, the words weighted with the frustration that had been simmering beneath the surface. "I'm still frustrated with you." You confessed, your voice tinged with the raw honesty of your emotions.

“Y/n, I’ll do everything to make it up to you. I know everything won’t go back to the way it was, but I just want to be your friend.” His words carry genuine remorse, and you crack.

“Remus, come here.” You extended your arms toward him and Remus engulfs you in his embrace, his fervor nearly knocking you off balance.

You're both holding onto each other tightly, finding comfort in having each other back. A few tears escape your eyes, tracing silent paths down your cheeks as you find solace in the warmth of his embrace.

"I missed you too." You mumble softly into his chest, your words muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

The familiar ease you once shared with Remus doesn't return immediately, but both of you are committed to rebuilding your friendship, to rediscovering that ease and comfort your relationship used to provide. But the effort that is being made means the world to you. 

And so it begins with catching up on reading together. You sit beside Remus on the plush couch, matching copies of a book cradled in your hands as you both immerse yourselves in its pages. Nearby, Marlene and Lily are nestled by the crackling fire, engaged in animated conversation about Marlene's impending decision to finally ask Dorcas out. Peter lounges lazily in an armchair, a contented smile playing on his lips as he indulges in chocolates, his attention drifting between the gossip and the flickering flames.

Sirius's laughter rings out, drawing your gaze toward him like a magnet. You shift your focus to the common room entrance, where Sirius and James have just arrived, their hair still damp from their post-practice showers.

You sit up straighter, a subtle movement, that draws Remus's attention to you. Following your gaze, Remus's eyes shift in the direction of Sirius, who is in the midst of a hearty laugh spurred on by James's joke. However, as Sirius turns and locks eyes with you, his laughter fades into a tender smile, his expression melting into one of affection and adoration. James catches sight of Lily across the room and wastes no time in making his way over to her, his trademark mischievous grin already in place.

"James!" Lily cries out, her voice a mixture of exasperation and amusement, as she dodges away from the curly-headed boy who is shaking his dripping wet hair over her. Marlene's laughter fills the air, and Dorcas grins from beside her. Despite Lily's attempts to escape, James encircles his arms around her waist, drawing her back against his chest, his satifsfied grin matching her infectious laughter. 

“I can’t stand you, James Potter.” Lily sighs, leaning back against James and shaking her head disapprovingly.

Sirius laughs, watching Lily pretend to be annoyed with James, before settling into the seat beside you, a comfortable familiarity enveloping the space between you. When he leans in to press a gentle kiss against your lips, you instinctively lean into his touch, savoring the warmth of his affection. Remus's gaze momentarily drifts away, a subtle pang of jealousy tugging at his chest as he watches the way you lean into his best mate.

In truth, Remus found himself uncertain of his standing with Sirius. Him and Remus were limited in their interactions lately, both boys feeling tense around the other. Unbeknownst to you, Remus flinched involuntarily every time Sirius drew near to you, displaying his lingering feelings for you. Sirius, though not proud of it, found himself grappling with a twinge of possessiveness whenever Remus was close to you. 

Sirius pulled back slightly, a warm smile gracing his features as he met your gaze, "Hi, m'love." He murmured softly, his voice laced with affection and tenderness.

You couldn't help but return his grin, feeling a rush of warmth at his endearing greeting, "Hi." You replied, your voice filled with warmth and fondness, mirroring the affection reflected in his eyes.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" Sirius's voice broke the silence, his arm casually draping around your shoulder, drawing you into his side. Your book lay forgotten as his presence captivated your attention.

"Just some studying." You replied, the thought of books and lectures suddenly fading into insignificance.

Sirius leaned in closer, his lips grazing against your ear as he whispered, "I wanna take you somewhere tomorrow." The words stirred memories of a few months ago when you were seated on this very couch with him, grappling with the heartache of trying to move on from Remus.

"Will this be a date?" You asked, unable to contain the excitement bubbling in your voice.

"Yes, angel." Sirius replied, his words soft and tender as he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. A radiant grin spread across your face as you reached for your book once more, the anticipation of the upcoming date dancing in your thoughts.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Almost a week slips by before you and Sirius manage to carve out time for a long-awaited date. As Sirius leads you on a walk, your heart swells with emotion when you realize he's taking you to the tulip field. Despite the lingering chill in the air, the sight of the vibrant flowers and the sun's gentle rays reflecting off Black Lake fills you with warmth.

"You're such a romantic." You giggle, leaning into Sirius even more. He responds with a bashful smile, his cheeks tinged pink. You're not sure if it's from the cold or your teasing.

"I didn't know if it would be a good place for a date or not." He admits, his cheeks coloring with embarrassment. He had spent the last week agonizing over where to take you. When he ranted to Peter about it, Peter simply shrugged and suggested Hogsmeade. Sirius had scoffed, his tone teasing yet earnest, telling him he better step it up if he wanted to impress a girl.

"Sirius, this is the cutest spot for a date. Plus, it has meaning to us." You tell him sincerely, and Sirius feels his heart flutter at the term us. He wonders if he'll ever get over the fact that he has his dream girl in his arms, looking at him the same way he looks at you.

As you draw closer, the perfumed air carries the unmistakable scent of spring, and the gentle buzzing of bumblebees near the flowers fills your ears. The sounds evoke a sense of nostalgia, transporting you back to your childhood days spent playing in the garden.

"Merlin, I was so stressed about it. I've never planned a date before. I mean, I've gone on dates, but I've never felt this determined to impress someone as much as I have with you," he sighs as if releasing all of his pent-up stress. "I even asked Peter where I should take you."

"Did you? Well, I think this is perfect." You grin, withdrawing your hand from his to lay out the blanket. The thought of crushing tulips under the blanket makes you cringe, so you search for a barren patch to place it over. With care, you shake out the blanket, letting it flutter gracefully before plopping onto it.

Leaning back on your palms, you watch Sirius, who remains standing where you left him, your copy of Pride and Prejudice in his hands. A soft smile graces his lips as he gazes at you as if you're everything he's ever dreamed of.

"Are you going to join me or just stare?" You question, patting the spot next to you invitingly.

"I quite like staring at you." He grins, sending you his famous smile. 

He sits down next to you before laying back and allowing the sun to settle on his skin. The warmth of the rays feels comforting, especially after the last couple of days filled with rain. The melodic songs of birds in the surrounding trees and the sound of your gentle movements create a soothing ambiance, putting him at ease.

You shift, settling onto your back, your eyes tracing the patterns of the soft clouds as they leisurely drift across the vast expanse of the sky. The birds' playful chirps and flutters among the trees add to the serene atmosphere. Sirius follows suit, adjusting his position to face you. As he watches you, he's captivated by the delicate play of sunlight on your features, accentuated by the colorful tulips that bloom around you, adding a vibrant backdrop to the tranquil scene.

He can hardly believe that he's lying next to the girl of his dreams, the one he's thought of for years, yearning for even a moment of her attention. Memories flood back countless times when he watched you with Remus from afar, consumed by jealousy for the time Remus got to spend with you. He would have given anything for just a few minutes alone with you to share a moment that belonged solely to the two of you.

"I talked to Remus earlier today." You remark, his nose crinkling slightly with an involuntary pang of jealousy at the mention of his friend's name. It's become almost instinctual by now. 

"He apologized to Adeline," You start, your expression thoughtful. "He mentioned it started off rough, but in the end, she forgave him, and they wished each other the best."

He hums, “That’s good.”

You giggle, “That’s all?”

Sirius hums softly, propping himself up on his elbow as he gazes down at you. "I'm glad they've found that closure," he murmurs, his tone laced with a hint of distraction.

Feeling his unwavering focus, you gently divert your attention from the sky to meet his gaze. His eyes are locked onto yours with such intensity that it causes a flutter in your chest, leaving your breath caught in your throat. 

He lifts his hands, delicately brushing his thumb against your bottom lip. A small, involuntary sound escapes you, and Sirius responds with a devastating smile, a hint of playfulness dancing in his eyes.

"I don't want to talk about anyone else but us." He whispers, his voice filled with sincerity. His gaze softens as his fingers trace gently across your cheeks, his hand coming to rest on your face, his thumb tenderly brushing against your jawline.

"What about us in particular?" You inquire, the words escaping in a breathless whisper. Your heart quickens its pace, a rhythmic drumming echoing the intensity of the moment, a sensation that always accompanies Sirius's proximity. The air feels charged with anticipation, every nerve tingling with the electricity of his presence.

"I can't get enough of you," he confesses, leaning in to press a soft kiss against your cheek. "How you never leave my mind," he adds, tenderly planting a kiss on your other cheek.

"How you make my heart flip every time I look at you." His lips brush against your forehead before he leans down to rest his against yours. Your eyes flutter closed at his proximity, your body nearly buzzing from the giddiness and anticipation coursing through your veins.

"How my heart is entirely yours." His voice trembles slightly, revealing the depth of his emotions as he utters those heartfelt words, “And that I am hopelessly in love with you.”

Your eyes widen, catching his apprehensive gaze, his nerves evident as he awaits your reaction to his confession Without hesitation, you thread your fingers through his hair and gently pull him down to you, closing the distance between your lips and his in a sweet, affirming kiss.

Sirius lets out a moan, his thumb continuing to brush over your cheek as he deepens the kiss. The warmth of his lips against yours is accompanied by a gentle exploration, each movement conveying a depth of emotion and desire that leaves you breathless. The air is charged with an electric intensity, and in that moment, it feels like time stands still, allowing you to savor the overwhelming connection and longing between you.

You pull away just slightly, your voice trembling with emotion as you gaze into his eyes. In the hushed intimacy of the moment, surrounded by the soft rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds, you utter those three profound words, "I am so in love with you. "

Sirius lets out a disbelieving laugh, his smile widening as euphoria bubbles within him. Without hesitation, he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a fervent and intense kiss that elicits a desperate moan from your lips. You've never experienced a kiss like this before, filled with such raw passion that it feels like every nerve in your body is set ablaze as if you could melt into him right there and then.

"Please be mine." Sirius pleads, his voice laced with longing and vulnerability against your lips. 

A tender smile graces your lips as you respond, your voice soft and filled with affection, "I'm already yours."

While nestled in the field of tulips, Sirius confesses to you that the very first tulip he gifted you was, in fact, a declaration of his love.

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

wait a sec...

The Three Railway Engines, beginning of final story:

Edward and Gordon often went through the tunnel where Henry was shut up. Edward would say, "Peep, peep - hullo!" and Gordon would say, "Poop, poop, poop! Serves you right!"

Main Line Engines, beginning of final story:

Edward scolded the twins severely, but told Gordon it served him right. Gordon was furious.

[caitified]

Hey, can you write some more Kate stories please ? They are really good 😊

puppy love

kate martin x reader

warnings: none! more family series coming soon

kate’s been quiet since the loss. she’s not one to show it too much—always trying to be strong, for her teammates, for you—but you can see it in the way she moves around the apartment, slower than usual, her usual spark dimmed.

it’s been a tough adjustment, this first season in the league. vegas has been good to her, to both of you, but the end of the playoffs hit harder than either of you expected. you’ve been wracking your brain for days, trying to find a way to cheer her up.

and then it hits you—the idea you’ve been holding onto for years.

kate’s always wanted a dog. she talked about it all the time in college, her face lighting up as she’d scroll through adoption websites, dreaming of the day you’d finally have a place big enough, a schedule steady enough, to make it happen.

now feels like the perfect time.

you spend a few days researching, visiting shelters while she’s at practice, and finally, you find the one. a golden retriever mix with the sweetest brown eyes, one that practically melts into your hand the moment you meet him.

the adoption papers are signed that afternoon.

when kate comes home from her workout the next day, the apartment’s unusually quiet.

“babe?” she calls, setting her bag down by the door.

“in the living room!” you reply, barely containing your excitement.

she rounds the corner, her brows furrowing as she takes in the scene—you sitting on the couch, and the dog sitting at your feet, wagging his tail like he’s already claimed her as his favorite person.

“oh my god,” kate breathes, dropping her water bottle as her eyes widen.

“surprise,” you say softly, your smile growing as she just stands there, frozen.

“is this—?”

“he’s ours,” you confirm, patting your thigh to call the dog closer. he trots over to you, but his attention quickly shifts to kate, sniffing her cautiously before pressing his nose against her hand.

“you—” kate’s voice catches, and she sinks to her knees, scratching behind the dog’s ears. “you got me a dog?”

“i got us a dog,” you correct, watching as her eyes start to glisten. “i know how hard this season’s been for you. and i thought… maybe this would help.”

kate lets out a shaky laugh, wrapping her arms around the dog, who happily licks her cheek. “you’re amazing, you know that?”

“i try,” you tease, moving to sit beside her on the floor.

she looks over at you, her eyes still wet but filled with so much love it makes your chest ache. “seriously, i can’t believe you did this. he’s perfect.”

“you’re perfect,” you counter, leaning in to kiss her temple.

she laughs again, this time lighter, and rests her head on your shoulder. “what’s his name?”

“i was thinking you could pick,” you say, watching as the dog flops onto his back, clearly at home already.

kate grins, brushing a hand over the dog’s soft fur. “how about lucky? because that’s how i feel right now.”

you laugh softly, pressing a kiss to her hair. “lucky it is.”

[pedroscurls]

you broke me first (one-shot)

summary: logan comes running to you after yet another disappointment with jean, but he's hurt you for the last time and you can't do this dance with him any longer. pairing: xmen series!logan x fem!reader content warnings: angst, unspoken feelings (logan has his reasons), logan pining for jean, broken friendship, no use of y/n. word count: 1.2k a/n: ok, so forgive me in advanced lol, this is my first time writing xmen series!logan (and idk if i'm the only one, but i do not like the jean x logan ship - i didn't feel any chemistry between them in the movies). anyway, enjoy this! this song came to mind and immediately i thought of this version of logan and it seemed fitting. song: you broke me first by tate mcrae

“She doesn’t love you, Logan,” you tell him once again after he comes straight to your room after Jean had told him that she would never leave Scott for him. You could never understand the feelings he had for Jean, his relationship with her purely physical. 

And each time he tried to convince Jean that being with him would make her happier than she was with Scott, he was always left disappointed. 

And each time, he always came running to you. The one person who had always been there for him since he had come to the mansion all those years ago. 

“You don’t know that,” Logan says, brows furrowed and his usual scowl written on his features. 

“Why do you keep going back to her?” you ask quietly, looking down at your hands. “She hurts you every time, Logan.”

“She just doesn’t know what she wants.”

“Logan,” you sigh. “We both know that’s not true.”

“If she knew what she wanted, why do we keep sleeping with each other, then? Hm?” 

You feel your heart break at his words. The more time you spent with Logan, the more you realized just how deeply you felt for him. He had become your best friend, and had made you feel welcome in a house full of mutants. Charles had hired you as a teacher despite not having any powers and while you loved your job, you always felt like you didn’t belong and you yearned to be one of them, to be part of a group like this. You couldn’t even be angry though, this was how every mutant had felt in this world. An outsider. 

But Logan… Logan had always made you feel like you belonged. He would talk to you about his problems and you would talk to him about yours. He’d be there to hold you whenever you had a bad day, to brush your hair away from your face when you were on the brink of tears. He’d always come to you whenever he couldn’t sleep, when his nightmares would take hold of him because he had admitted one night that you make him feel safe, calm, peaceful. 

And he’d always come to you whenever Jean didn’t want him anymore. 

And you’d always be there to welcome him with open arms. 

“I don’t know, Logan,” you finally answer. “She won’t ever leave Scott… You and I both know this.”

“She just needs to realize–”

“Stop,” you interrupt him. “Please, Logan.”

Logan looks down at you. “What?”

“I’ve always been right here,” you say quietly, teary eyes staring up at him. 

“I know,” he sighs. “And I’m lucky–”

“We both know that’s not what I mean,” you interrupt. “You can’t be that dense, Logan.”

He tightens his jaw and you look down at his hands to see them curled into fists. All it takes is one clench and his claws would come out. “We can’t. That can’t ever happen between us.” 

“Why?” you ask. “What’s so wrong with me that you can’t see that I would choose you?”

“Nothing’s wrong with you,” he sighs. “We just–” Logan shakes his head. “No, bub.”

“What’s so special about Jean, hm?” you ask, voice raising as tears now slowly trickle down your cheeks. “What does she have that I don’t? Is it her powers? Is it because she’s a mutant?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I don’t care if you’re not a mutant.”

“Then what?!” Your lower lip quivers and you take a step back when you yell at him. You can feel your entire body shaking, emotions and feelings that you had kept bottled in now coming to the surface. “Then what, Logan?” you repeat. 

“I can’t love you.”

“You can’t, or you don’t?” 

“Bub,” Logan sighs, hand slowly reaching out for you but you shake your head and step away from him. 

“Whenever you needed someone, I have always been there. When you needed to leave for whatever reason, I was always here waiting for you to come back. It’s always been me, Logan. Me.” 

“I know…” Logan’s eyes soften at the sight of you and he wants so badly to just pull you into his arms. He would never admit to you the feelings he has for you, would never tell you how much he wishes that things were different. Part of him thinks he loves Jean, knows that she can handle her own if anything were to happen, but you… If you were to ever be in danger because of him, he would never forgive himself. So, he keeps you at a friendly distance, never displaying to the rest of the team just how much you mean to him. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” you whisper, voice shaky. “I can’t be the person you keep coming to whenever Jean doesn’t want anything to do with you. You deserve someone who’s going to choose you, Logan,” you stare up at him, eyes glistening with tears. “You deserve someone who’s not going to hurt you.”

Logan’s jaw tightens. “What do you mean you can’t do this anymore?”

“I fucking love you, Logan!” you bite your lower lip, your own hands clenching into fists in hopes that the action would ground you, would alleviate some of the frustration that you’re feeling. “I fucking love you and I can no longer just sit around and act like I don’t.” 

“Sweetheart,” his voice cracks and suddenly, he realizes that losing you hurts far more than the disappointment he continues to feel with Jean. “Don’t–”

“You break my heart every fucking time you come to me about Jean,” you admit. “And I can’t do it anymore. I can’t do this anymore,” you repeat. 

“Baby,” Logan whispers. 

“I’m going to tell Charles that I’ve got a family emergency and that I will need to leave immediately,” you tell Logan, moving around him to gather your duffle bag and setting it on your bed. “I’m sure he’ll know the real reason why I’m leaving, but–”

Logan reaches out for you, his hand a gentle touch against your wrist. “Stop, please…”

You pull your hand away from his grasp and look up at him, “Be honest with me and tell me that you don’t see anything here… That you don’t feel something for me.”

Logan stares into your eyes and he tightens his jaw, hand reaching up to gently brush a tear away from your cheek. “I can’t,” he whispers. “I need you to understand that I can’t, baby.” 

You nod and step away from him. “I won’t ever be enough, will I?” 

“That’s not true–”

“Just get out, Logan. Please.” 

“I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you. You’re breaking me–”

“You broke me first, Logan,” you interject and turn back around to toss your clothes carelessly into your bag, tears strolling down your cheeks. You can still feel Logan’s presence, can hear him huffing lowly under his breath. 

When your clothes are in your bag, you toss it over your shoulder and turn around to see him standing near your door. You walk over to him and reach for the door handle, gripping it tightly as you look up at him once more. For one last time. 

“Don’t go, please,” he whispers. 

“I wish you nothing but the best, Logan,” you reply. “And I hope one day you realize that you deserve so much more than what Jean is giving you. You deserve to be happy, to be loved, to be chosen.”

“Baby–”

Slowly, you turn the handle and open the door, tearing your gaze away from him. “Goodbye, Logan.”

[chocolatemoneyrascalparty]

"Charlie is the most annoying person on planet earth and driving his boyfriend into depression and yet feeling no regret". Charlie is sick. Of course everyone around him gets affected. He needs help and support and love and he makes bad decisions and what I've read/seen in heartstopper he isn't aware about how Nick is feeling. They don't exactly talk about it. Charlie needs support and I can absolutely agree with you that Charlie is the reason why Nick feels how he does, because it's exhausting to care for a sick person. Especially for a 16/17 year old. But also because Nick thinks he is responsible for Charlie's wellbeing (which he isn't and which his mother made clear in book 3, though Nick struggles to let go of those thoughts and to let actual adults take care of Charlie. Which is fair because Nick cares *a lot* about him).

"Tori is played by an actor 10 years older than the her Canon age". This has been done before. There are multiple movies where an adult plays a teenager (derry girls, for example). And sure, while it isn't ideal and it is a little weird, Tori's actor is super good at acting so why bother caring? While we're at it, we could also discuss why every single one of the Paris Squad is also played by an actor atleast 4-5 years older than their canon age, but again why does it matter?

"You have a group of friends who never seem to study but also has amazing grades". It's a story. Who would watch a serie/read a book where the main characters does homework all the time? And they do homework from time to time (Nick and Charlie bonding over math, Nick doing his homework on the way to class in one of the first episodes of s1, Tori writing a text about pride and prejudice in solitaire). Homework is still a part of their lives. We just don't see the characters do it that much bc that would be boring.

We can argue a very long time whether Heartstopper is realistic or not, but in the end it's a story that needs a plot. And while the plot might be a little cringe and a little overrated and a little "black cat, golden retriever"- types of gay relationships, we need those stories too.

Also, while it isn't a perfect queer representation, it's atleast queer representation. Yeah, we shouldn't be satisfied with that BUT it's made by a queer woman for queer ppl and it got canon queer characters which is more than most stories. I'd rather take queer rep by queer people than queer rep by cishet people.

(I can talk about the way queer media keeps getting created by straight ppl in a fun little "omg look they kiss and they gay and one is the bottom and very sensitive" for long time but that's for another time)

the whole “heartstopper isn’t realistic” argument is so stupid to me because everyone who says that has clearly not been able to understand the show/comics correctly. you have charlie literally fainting because he’s not eating enough, you have nick doubting himself because he doesn’t know how to help one of the people he cares the most about, you have elle experiencing identity issues surrounding her current life and friendships, you have tara having self esteem issues because her girlfriend is kind of giving her the silent treatment, you have darcy hiding from her friends the literal hell she’s going through in her house, you have isaac experiencing his sexuality awakening alone because he feels he can’t trust his friends, you have imogen literally going through another sexuality awakening after being heartbroken two times, and finally, you have tori literally at the brink of tears in every scene because of depression. heartstopper IS realistic. you are just too obsessed with drugs and over sexualisation of teenagers. grow up.

[amethystarachnid]

hi! i’d like to request a loki x fem!reader

can you base it on “we can’t be friends” by ariana grande. something related to the music video in the sense that reader tries to erase her memory in order to “heal” after Loki turns into the god of stories and she is practically alone now. sorry its not angsty i can’t help myself 😩

hope this is okay! thanks queen

MEMORIES

⤷ LOKY LAUFEYSON

ᯓ★ Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, angst, like a lot of angst

ᯓ★ Requests status: open

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Summary: You thought Loki was your forever, the man with who you'd spend the resto of your life with, but he becomes the God of Stories you are left with nothing but memories of him, maybe you should get rid of those too.

ᯓ★ Word count: 8k

ᯓ★ TW(s): hinted depression, sleeping a lot to stay in the dreams and not eating because of this so weight loss

ᯓ★ Okay so, I need to tell you all the truth...I haven't watched Loki...But!! I've started it and I'm currently on episode 2, truth is me and tv series don't really go hand in hand so I don't know if I'll actually finish it. But to write this fanfic I tried to get as much information as I could and I hope you like it!

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The air is cool, tinged with the earthy scent of rain that had fallen just hours before, leaving the world fresh, like a new beginning. You sit on the balcony of your apartment, your legs tucked under you as you sip your coffee. The city below hums with the soft buzz of life, but up here, it's quiet. Just you and him.

Loki’s presence is a constant now. At first, it was a dangerous thrill — the God of Mischief, the trickster, the god of lies and chaos. But over time, you had come to know the man behind the myths, the one who spent far too many sleepless nights overthinking, doubting, and regretting. The one who, despite his flaws and his ever-conflicted nature, had let you in.

You can feel his gaze on you, even before you turn to face him. He's perched at the edge of the balcony, the golden light from the setting sun casting soft shadows on his face. His dark hair is tousled from the wind, and he’s watching you with that look — the one that makes you feel as though you’re the only thing in the universe that matters.

You smile, the warmth in your chest a stark contrast to the cool evening breeze. “What?”

He doesn’t answer at first. Instead, Loki steps closer, the air shifting around him in subtle, magical currents. He always has this way of bending the world to his whims. But right now, he’s just… himself. Not a god. Not a villain. Just Loki.

“Nothing,” he says, voice low, almost like a secret. “You just look… peaceful.”

You blink, surprised. Peaceful isn’t a word you’d ever associate with yourself, but you can’t help the way it feels with him beside you. It’s like the world is calm — for once, there’s no grand scheme or looming threat. Just him. And you.

“You’re the one who always looks so intense,” you tease, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “Like you’re plotting world domination.”

Loki’s eyes flicker with mischief, but there’s something softer in the way he regards you, something tender. “I don’t plot world domination. Not all the time.” He shrugs, as if the matter is trivial.

You laugh, but there’s a quiet moment between you, an unspoken understanding. You know what he means. Loki has always carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. The responsibility of his past, the expectations of his future. And yet, when it’s just the two of you, he lets it slip away.

You let your coffee rest on the railing and, without a word, turn to face him fully. Loki’s smile, small but genuine, tugs at something in your chest. You take a step closer to him, the distance between you shrinking as you reach out, your hand brushing against his.

It’s always like this, these quiet moments — when words are no longer necessary. His hand envelops yours effortlessly, and it’s like the universe settles into place. This is the calm you didn’t know you needed, the simple comfort of being in each other’s space.

“Do you ever think about the future?” you ask, your voice hesitant, unsure if you’re ready for the answer.

He watches you carefully, as if weighing your words. There’s a flicker of uncertainty in his gaze, a crack in the façade of the god you’re so used to. He tilts his head, his fingers gently tracing the back of your hand.

“Of course, I think about it,” he admits softly. “But I’ve spent so many lifetimes running from it, from the choices that will define me. The future… It’s complicated.”

You can hear the hesitation in his voice, the way he never fully commits to what’s ahead. Loki is a god of chaos, after all. He’s never been good with stability, with the idea of permanence. His eyes search yours, as though trying to read your mind.

“And you?” he asks, his voice almost a whisper.

You swallow, a lump forming in your throat. “I think about it too, but… I don’t know. The future feels like a blurry mess sometimes.”

He steps closer, his thumb brushing against your wrist in a soothing motion. “Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”

There’s a sincerity in his words that takes you by surprise. Loki, the god who’d always kept everyone at arm’s length, including his own family, is now standing before you, offering his loyalty in a way that feels… real. No tricks, no games, just the promise of something honest.

“Together,” you repeat softly, the word tasting different on your lips when it comes from him.

His eyes flicker to the horizon, as though he’s considering something, before he looks back at you with a soft chuckle. “And if the future is full of chaos, we’ll make it our own chaos.”

You laugh, but there’s something in your chest that tightens at the thought of a future with Loki — with all that he represents, with all the uncertainty and danger that follow him like a dark cloud. But in this moment, you push it aside. There’s no room for fear when he’s beside you.

Loki takes your hand and leads you toward the edge of the balcony, his fingers never leaving yours. “Come,” he says, his voice low and gentle. “Let’s watch the sunset. Together.”

As you sit side by side, the sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky in warm shades of pink and gold. The world around you may be shifting, always changing, but here, in this moment, everything feels still. The weight of time feels distant. The future feels like a far-off dream that you can’t quite touch.

You rest your head against his shoulder, the soft sound of his breath steadying your own. Loki shifts slightly, his hand coming to rest on your back in an almost protective gesture. The quiet between you stretches, neither of you needing to speak.

For a moment, everything is perfect. The world, the chaos, the future — it all fades into the background, and all that remains is the calm. The love.

But deep down, you can’t ignore the feeling that this peace is fragile. Like glass, it’s delicate, and even though you’re holding onto it, you wonder how long it can last.

That peace doesn’t last forever.

The memory of that moment — the quiet between you, the warmth of his hand in yours — is the last thing you want to hold on to.

After everything has crumbled, after everything has changed, you find yourself sitting in a quiet, empty room, staring at the walls. The apartment feels hollow now, the silence too loud. The city outside moves on, unaware of the storm raging inside you.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

But Loki had become the God of Stories, and with that title came unimaginable power. The ability to rewrite fate itself, to shape reality, to weave his own narrative — and in the process, he’d lost himself. Or maybe it was you who had lost him. Maybe you were the one who didn’t fit into his new story.

You can still hear his voice in your mind, soft and warm, whispering that you would face the future together. But how could you face the future with him now? How could you stand by his side when he was no longer the Loki you knew?

It’s a bitter thought. One that claws at your chest. And the worst part is — you still love him. Even after everything. Even after the gods, after the chaos, after the mistakes, you still want him.

But it’s too much. The memories are too vivid, too painful. You can’t bear to remember him — not when every time you close your eyes, you see his face, and it’s like a stab to your heart.

You’ve made up your mind.

You’ll erase it all. Every memory of him.

The love. The pain. The warmth.

You’re not sure how, but you’ll do it. Because if you don’t, you’ll never move on. You’ll never be free.

The box feels heavier than it should as you lower it to the floor, your knees protesting the motion. A single lamp casts its warm glow across your apartment, but the light feels muted, swallowed by the shadows pressing in from every corner. It’s late, and the city outside seems quieter than usual, as if the world knows the significance of what you’re about to do.

Loki’s things are scattered around you in a mess of memories. A black scarf you once teased him about for being far too dramatic, a small leather-bound notebook filled with strange symbols and half-formed ideas, a gold trinket he’d magicked into existence one lazy afternoon to make you laugh. Each item holds a piece of him, of you, of you and him.

Your breath catches as you sit back on your heels, staring at the pile with a sinking feeling in your chest. It’s almost funny. You thought gathering his belongings would make it easier, like pulling off a bandage quickly to avoid the sting. But it’s worse. So much worse.

Your fingers tremble as they brush over the scarf. You remember the first time he wore it — the way it swept dramatically over his shoulder as he smirked at your teasing.

“Trying to impress me, Mischief?” you’d asked, a playful lilt to your voice.

Loki had leaned closer, that familiar spark of mischief lighting his green eyes. “Is it working?”

You’d laughed, shoving him lightly, but your heart had skipped a beat all the same. He had a way of doing that — making the smallest, most mundane moments feel like they belonged in an epic tale.

You shake your head, pulling yourself back to the present. The memory is too vivid, too sharp, and it slices through you like glass. That was before everything changed. Before he became something… unreachable.

Your fingers curl around the scarf, tightening as the memory threatens to drag you under. For a moment, you consider keeping it. Just this one thing. But no. You can’t. If you start keeping pieces of him, you’ll never let go.

You toss the scarf into the box, the action more forceful than you intended. It lands atop the notebook, the trinket, and the small collection of Loki’s things that have woven themselves into your life.

The notebook catches your eye again, and before you can stop yourself, you’re flipping it open. The pages are filled with Loki’s handwriting — sharp and elegant, like the man himself. Most of it is incomprehensible to you, written in Asgardian runes or some ancient language you don’t recognize. But on one page, near the middle, you find something familiar.

It’s your name.

Your breath hitches as you stare at the word, the letters carved into the page with a deliberate hand. Beneath it, a single line in English:

"You are my home."

The tears come then, hot and relentless, streaming down your cheeks before you can stop them. You clutch the notebook to your chest, your body shaking as the weight of it all crashes over you. He said those words to you once, late at night, when the world had felt quiet and safe.

You remember lying in bed together, his arm draped lazily over your waist, his voice a soft murmur against your ear. “You are my home,” he’d said, the words carrying a vulnerability he rarely allowed himself to show. “In all the realms, in all the chaos, I find my peace in you.”

And you had believed him. God, you’d believed him.

The notebook slips from your hands as you bury your face in your palms, sobs wracking your body. You’d thought you were strong enough to do this, to let him go, but the memories won’t stop. They cling to you like shadows, refusing to release their grip.

It’s not fair. He had no right to carve himself into your soul like this, to leave behind pieces of himself in every corner of your life. How are you supposed to erase someone who’s become a part of you?

You sit there for what feels like hours, the box of Loki’s things staring back at you like a silent witness to your unraveling. Eventually, the tears subside, leaving you hollow and exhausted. Your eyes sting, and your throat feels raw, but you force yourself to move.

Gathering the box, you rise to your feet, your legs unsteady. The plan is simple: take it to the small clearing behind the building, set it ablaze, and watch the memories burn. Maybe then the pain will ease. Maybe then you’ll finally be free.

You step outside, the cool night air biting against your skin. The clearing is quiet, save for the distant hum of the city. You place the box in the center, your fingers brushing over the edges one last time.

You light the match.

The flame flickers to life, small and fragile in your hand. You hesitate, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. This is it. This is the final goodbye.

But as you stare at the flame, something inside you cracks. You think of the sunsets you watched together, the way he’d tuck your hair behind your ear when he thought you weren’t paying attention, the soft, unguarded moments that made you fall in love with him in the first place.

Can you really do this?

Your hand shakes as you lower the match, the flame dancing dangerously close to the edge of the box. The scent of sulfur fills the air, and for a moment, you think you’ll go through with it. You’ll let it all burn.

But then, the match falls from your fingers, the flame snuffing out as it hits the damp grass.

You drop to your knees, the box still untouched, your chest heaving with uneven breaths. You can’t do it. You can’t erase him, no matter how much it hurts to remember. Because the memories aren’t just painful. They’re beautiful, too.

And maybe that’s the cruelest part of all.

The bar is crowded, the kind of loud and bustling place you would never have chosen for yourself, but your friends insisted. “You need to get out,” they had said. “Meet people. Forget about him.”

Forget about him.

As if it were that simple.

You sit at a small, high table near the back, a drink cradled in your hand. The music pulses through the air, the bass thrumming in your chest, but it does nothing to drown out the thoughts that swirl endlessly in your mind. Around you, your friends laugh and chatter, their voices a blur of encouragement and reassurances.

It’s been months since Loki left — or, more accurately, since he became something else, someone you could no longer reach. Months since you tried to burn his things and failed, the box now tucked away in the corner of your closet like a secret you can’t bear to part with.

And yet, even with all the time and distance, the memories still haunt you. He’s still there, in the quiet moments, in the back of your mind, a shadow you can’t escape.

A new drink appears in front of you, courtesy of one of your friends. “He’s cute, isn’t he?” she whispers, nudging you with her elbow. You glance toward the bar, where a man stands with a confident smile and sharp cheekbones. He’s attractive, you suppose. Objectively. But as your gaze lingers, the comparisons begin, unbidden and unstoppable.

His hair isn’t as dark as Loki’s. His eyes aren’t as piercing. And when he smiles, it doesn’t make your chest tighten the way Loki’s did when he let his walls down and gave you that rare, genuine look that was only for you.

“Go talk to him,” your friend urges, her tone light and encouraging. You hesitate, but the expectant looks from the rest of your group leave you feeling cornered. With a reluctant sigh, you slide off your stool and make your way toward the bar.

The man notices you immediately, his smile widening as you approach. He introduces himself — James, or Jake, or something that doesn’t stick in your memory. You force a polite smile, nodding as he talks about his job, his hobbies, his plans for the weekend.

But you’re not really listening.

Instead, you’re thinking about how different he is. Loki’s voice had a way of wrapping around you, rich and velvety, with an edge that hinted at mischief or danger. His words weren’t just conversations; they were an invitation to step into his world, to see the universe through his eyes.

This man — James, Jake, whoever — is ordinary. Normal. And maybe that’s what you’re supposed to want now, but it feels hollow.

He says something that makes you chuckle politely, and for a moment, you catch yourself wondering what Loki would think if he saw you now. Would he be amused, watching you try to piece yourself back together with someone so utterly unremarkable? Or would he feel that flicker of jealousy, the possessiveness he always tried to hide but never fully could?

The thought twists something in your chest, and you excuse yourself quickly, claiming you need to get back to your friends.

“Not your type?” one of them teases when you return, her grin playful.

“No,” you say simply, sipping your drink. But the truth is more complicated than that. It’s not that he wasn’t your type. It’s that he wasn’t Loki.

The pattern repeats itself over the following weeks.

Your friends take you to new places, introduce you to new people, all with the hope that one of them will spark something in you. And each time, it ends the same way.

You meet someone kind, someone charming, someone your friends swear would be perfect for you. And each time, you find yourself comparing them to him.

No one holds a candle to Loki.

No one has that sharp wit, that clever tongue that made even the most mundane conversations feel electric. No one carries themselves with that effortless grace, the confidence of a god who knows he’s meant for greatness but still chooses to share himself with you. No one looks at you the way Loki did, like you were a puzzle he was desperate to solve, a mystery he could never quite unravel.

And the worst part is, you know it’s unfair. You know these men deserve more than your half-hearted attempts at connection. But no matter how hard you try, you can’t stop measuring them against him.

One evening, your closest friend pulls you aside after another failed attempt at setting you up. “You’re not giving them a chance,” she says gently, her concern evident.

“I am,” you argue, but even as the words leave your mouth, you know they’re not entirely true.

She sighs, placing a comforting hand on your arm. “I know it’s hard. I know you miss him. But you deserve to be happy, too. He’s not coming back, and holding onto him like this… it’s only hurting you.”

Her words cut deeper than you expect, and you find yourself blinking back tears. She’s right, of course. Loki isn’t coming back. The man you loved is gone, and the person he’s become is far beyond your reach.

But how do you let go of someone who’s etched into your soul? How do you move on when every part of you still aches for him?

“I’ll try,” you whisper, though you’re not sure if it’s a promise you can keep.

Your friend nods, giving your arm a reassuring squeeze. “That’s all anyone can ask.”

But as the night goes on, as the world moves around you, you find yourself retreating into your thoughts, into the memories of a man who can never truly be replaced.

And in the quiet corners of your heart, you know the truth: no one will ever compare.

The apartment feels colder than it should, the kind of chill that creeps into your bones and refuses to let go. You sit curled up on the couch, staring at the flickering glow of the television, though you’re not really watching it. The sound is just there to fill the silence, to keep the walls from closing in.

But it doesn’t work. Not really.

Because even in the noise, you can hear his voice.

It starts small, the whispers of his tone weaving into the spaces between your thoughts. At first, you think it’s your imagination. Of course it is. Loki isn’t here. He’s not coming back. You’ve told yourself this a thousand times, clinging to the words like a mantra.

And yet…

The scent of leather and the faint trace of cedar linger in the air. The couch dips slightly beside you, a barely-there weight, but enough to make you glance to your right.

He’s there. Sitting casually with one arm draped over the back of the couch, his long legs crossed, and that infuriatingly familiar smirk playing at his lips.

“Miss me, darling?” he asks, his voice smooth and teasing, as if he hasn’t been gone for months. As if you hadn’t been tearing yourself apart trying to forget him.

Your heart lurches, and for a moment, you let yourself believe it’s real. You can’t help it. The sight of him is so vivid, so perfect. The sharp angle of his jaw, the glint of mischief in his green eyes — it’s exactly how you remember.

“Loki…” The name slips from your lips before you can stop it, a mixture of disbelief and yearning.

He tilts his head, his expression softening. “Yes, my love?”

The words hit you like a wave, the tenderness in his tone unraveling you completely. Your vision blurs with tears, and you reach out, your hand trembling as it moves toward him. But the moment your fingers brush the air where his hand should be, the illusion shatters.

He’s gone.

The couch is empty. The room is still. The silence is deafening.

You pull your hand back slowly, your chest heaving as you struggle to catch your breath. “No,” you whisper to yourself, shaking your head. “No, no, no.”

Your voice breaks, the sound foreign to your ears. You clutch at the blanket draped over your lap, holding it tightly as if it could anchor you to reality. But it doesn’t. Nothing does.

“Why are you doing this to me?” you murmur into the empty room, your voice raw with anger and grief. “Why can’t I let you go?”

There’s no answer, of course. Just the echo of your own voice bouncing off the walls. But that doesn’t stop you from talking. It’s becoming a habit now, these conversations with no one.

Some nights, you sit at the dining table, setting out two glasses of wine even though you know the second will remain untouched. You’ll tell stories about your day, laughing softly at jokes that only you can hear. You’ll look toward the chair opposite you, expecting to see him lounging there, his sharp wit ready to match yours.

And some nights, like tonight, you’ll sit on the couch and swear you can feel him beside you.

“Loki,” you whisper again, the name tasting like salt on your tongue. “Why did you leave me?”

The apartment remains silent, but in your mind, you can hear his response. You can hear him apologizing, explaining that it wasn’t his choice, that becoming the God of Stories meant giving up everything he loved.

But it’s a lie. A lie you tell yourself to make the ache in your chest bearable. Because deep down, you know the truth: he could have stayed. He could have chosen you.

And yet, he didn’t.

The illusions get worse as the weeks pass.

At first, they’re fleeting — a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye, a phantom touch brushing against your shoulder. But soon, they’re more vivid. More real.

You’ll hear his voice calling your name, soft and intimate, like he’s standing right behind you. You’ll turn around, your heart leaping with hope, only to find nothing but empty air.

And then there are the nights when you swear you feel his arms around you, holding you close as you drift off to sleep. Those nights are the worst, because when you wake up, the loneliness is suffocating.

Your friends notice the change in you, though you try to hide it. They don’t understand. How could they? They never knew him the way you did. They never loved him the way you do.

“You’re spiraling,” one of them says gently, her voice laced with concern. “You need help, Y/N. This… this isn’t normal.”

You nod, pretending to agree, but you don’t believe her. How could you need help when the only thing keeping you sane is the thought of him? When the illusions are the only moments you feel whole again?

One evening, you sit on the floor of your living room, surrounded by the box of Loki’s things you couldn’t bring yourself to burn. You pull out the scarf, holding it close to your chest as tears spill down your cheeks.

“I can’t do this without you,” you whisper into the fabric, your voice shaking. “I don’t know how.”

The room feels colder than ever, but as you close your eyes, you imagine his warmth enveloping you. You imagine him kneeling beside you, his hand brushing your hair back as he murmurs reassurances in that velvety voice.

But when you open your eyes, you’re still alone. And the scarf in your hands feels unbearably heavy.

You clutch it tighter, rocking slightly as the weight of your grief crashes over you. The world outside continues on, indifferent to your pain, but in this moment, all you can feel is the absence of him.

It’s a pain that no one else can understand, a loss that no one else can ease. And as the illusions pull you deeper into their grasp, you can’t help but wonder if letting go of him is even possible — or if you’re destined to carry this ache forever.

The dream begins the same way every time.

You’re standing in a golden field, the tall grass swaying gently in a breeze that carries the faintest scent of lavender. The sky above is painted in soft hues of orange and pink, a perpetual sunset that feels both warm and surreal. And there he is, waiting for you.

Loki.

He’s standing a few paces away, his silhouette sharp against the dreamy backdrop. His dark hair is tousled just so, and when he sees you, that familiar, crooked smile lights up his face. He opens his arms, and you run to him, your heart soaring in a way it hasn’t in what feels like forever.

In your dreams, there are no goodbyes, no insurmountable barriers. Here, you are just two people who love each other, untouched by the weight of reality.

“Missed me, darling?” he asks, his voice teasing yet warm as he pulls you into his arms.

“Always,” you murmur, burying your face in his chest. His scent surrounds you — leather and cedar, with a hint of something uniquely him. It’s intoxicating, grounding, and you never want to let go.

The dreams are your sanctuary, the only place where the ache in your chest quiets, where you feel whole again. You wake up every morning wishing you could stay there forever. And slowly, without realizing it, you begin to chase that feeling.

At first, it’s subtle. You let yourself sleep a little longer each morning, lingering in bed even as the sunlight streams through your window. Then you start skipping plans with your friends, feigning exhaustion or sickness so you can curl back under the covers.

The more time you spend in your dreams, the less you care about the waking world. Food becomes an afterthought, meals skipped in favor of lying in bed, hoping to drift off again. Even your appearance begins to change — your cheeks hollowing, your skin growing pale. But you hardly notice. All that matters is Loki.

Your friends notice the change in you long before you do.

“You’ve barely eaten,” one of them points out during a rare outing, her eyes scanning your face with obvious concern. “You’re so thin, Y/N. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you reply automatically, forcing a smile. But your voice lacks conviction, and you can tell she doesn’t believe you.

“You don’t look fine.” Her tone softens, but there’s a firmness beneath it. “We’re worried about you. You’ve been isolating yourself, skipping meals, avoiding everyone…”

“I’m just tired,” you say, cutting her off. “That’s all.”

The words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken truths. You can see the worry etched into her features, but you’re too far gone to care. You’re tired of the concern, the pity, the endless attempts to pull you out of the darkness when all you want is to stay there, wrapped in the illusion of Loki’s presence.

One night, your friend shows up at your apartment unannounced. The moment she steps inside, she freezes, her eyes widening as she takes in the state of the place.

It’s a mess. Dishes piled in the sink, unopened mail scattered across the counter, curtains drawn tightly to keep out the daylight. And there you are, curled up on the couch in a hoodie that hangs off your frame, your eyes hollow and distant.

“Y/N,” she breathes, her voice breaking.

You barely look at her, your gaze fixed on the floor.

She sits down beside you, reaching for your hand. “You’re not okay,” she says, her voice trembling. “Please, let us help you.”

“I don’t need help,” you whisper, but even as you say it, tears spill down your cheeks.

“Yes, you do,” she insists, squeezing your hand. “You’ve been shutting us out, and it’s killing you. You’re wasting away, Y/N. I don’t know what’s going on, but you don’t have to face it alone.”

Her words pierce through the fog in your mind, and for a moment, you consider telling her the truth. Telling her about the dreams, about Loki, about the impossible grief that has consumed you. But the thought of saying it out loud feels like admitting he’s truly gone.

“I just need to sleep,” you say instead, pulling your hand away.

Her eyes fill with tears, but she doesn’t press you further. She stands, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “I can’t force you to let us in,” she says softly. “But I’m not giving up on you.”

After she leaves, you crawl back into bed, pulling the covers over your head. The dreams are waiting for you, and that’s all that matters.

But even the dreams begin to shift.

The golden fields grow dimmer, the sunsets less vibrant. Loki’s voice, once so warm and reassuring, takes on a melancholy edge. He holds you close, but there’s a sadness in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” he asks one night, his voice soft but filled with anguish.

“What do you mean?” you reply, confused.

“You’re losing yourself,” he says, his hands cradling your face. “This isn’t what I wanted for you.”

Tears stream down your cheeks as you shake your head. “I don’t care,” you whisper. “I just want to be with you.”

Loki’s expression breaks, his own tears shimmering in his eyes. “But at what cost, my love? You’re fading away.”

The dream dissolves into darkness, leaving you gasping as you wake up. For the first time, the comfort of sleep feels like a betrayal, a reminder of how deeply you’ve sunk into the illusion.

And yet, the waking world offers no solace. You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, your heart aching with the weight of it all.

Because no matter where you are — asleep or awake — the pain remains. And you don’t know how to escape it.

It’s late afternoon when your friend arrives at your apartment, a determined look on her face as she steps inside. She doesn’t bother to hide her shock at the state of you. You’re sitting on the couch, knees pulled to your chest, staring blankly at the television. Your hoodie hangs loosely on your frail frame, and your skin is pale, almost translucent under the dim lighting.

“Y/N,” she begins, closing the door behind her and walking toward you. There’s no judgment in her tone, only a desperate kind of concern. “I’ve been doing some research… and I think I found something that could help.”

You glance at her, your expression unreadable. “Help?”

“Yes.” She sits down beside you, her movements careful, as though she’s afraid you might shatter. “It’s… unconventional, but it’s worth considering.”

From her bag, she pulls out a pamphlet and places it on the coffee table. The bold lettering on the front reads: The Haven Institute: A New Beginning.

You eye it warily, your stomach twisting with unease. “What is this?”

She hesitates, then takes a deep breath. “It’s a clinic. They specialize in memory modification. They… they can help you forget him.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you can’t breathe. Forget him? The idea is so foreign, so unimaginable, that it feels like an affront to everything you’ve been holding onto.

“No,” you say quickly, your voice trembling. “Absolutely not.”

“Y/N, please just listen—”

“No!” You push yourself up from the couch, pacing the room with frantic energy. “I can’t. I won’t. He’s all I have left. If I forget him, then what? What’s left of me?”

Tears fill your friend’s eyes, but she doesn’t back down. “What’s left of you now?” she asks softly, her voice breaking. “Look at yourself, Y/N. You’re not living. You’re barely surviving. This… this isn’t what he would want for you.”

Her words strike a chord, but you shake your head, unwilling to let them sink in.

“I can’t,” you whisper, your voice cracking. “I can’t lose him again.”

That night, you dream of Loki again. But this time, the dream isn’t a golden field or a serene sunset. It’s your apartment, dimly lit and suffocatingly quiet.

He’s sitting across from you, his posture relaxed but his expression serious. There’s a weight to his gaze, a sadness that mirrors your own.

“You know she’s right,” he says, his voice gentle but firm.

You shake your head, tears streaming down your face. “No. Don’t say that. Don’t you dare say that.”

Loki leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he studies you. “Do you think this is what I want for you? To see you like this, wasting away, consumed by grief?”

“I’m not wasting away,” you argue, but your voice lacks conviction.

He tilts his head, his expression softening. “Aren’t you? Look at yourself, darling. You’re a shadow of the person I fell in love with. And it’s my fault. I see that now.”

“No,” you choke out, clutching at the fabric of your hoodie. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I’m the one who can’t let go.”

“And that’s why you need to let me go,” he says, his voice breaking. “Not because you don’t love me, but because you do. Because holding onto me is killing you.”

You collapse onto the floor, sobbing into your hands as the weight of his words crashes over you. “I don’t know how,” you whisper. “I don’t know how to let you go.”

Loki kneels beside you, his hands cupping your face as he looks into your eyes. “You can,” he says firmly. “You’re stronger than you think. And if erasing me is the only way to save you… then so be it.”

The dream begins to fade, his voice lingering in your mind even as the golden light dissolves into darkness.

You wake up gasping, tears soaking your pillow. The words from your dream replay over and over in your head, like a mantra you can’t escape: You need to let me go.

For the first time, you take a long, hard look at yourself. You walk to the bathroom and flick on the light, wincing at the reflection staring back at you. Your cheeks are hollow, your eyes dull, your once-vibrant presence reduced to a frail shadow.

Your hand trembles as you press it against the mirror, your breath fogging the glass. This isn’t you. This isn’t the person you used to be.

And Loki — whether he’s a dream, an illusion, or a memory too stubborn to fade — is right. You’ve let your grief consume you, and if you don’t do something soon, there won’t be anything left to save.

The next morning, you call your friend.

“I’ll do it,” you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll go to the clinic.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line, and when she speaks, her voice is thick with emotion. “Are you sure?”

“No,” you admit. “But I can’t keep living like this.”

Your friend comes over that afternoon, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you let her hold you as you cry. It’s a small step, but it’s a step nonetheless.

The pamphlet sits on the coffee table, a reminder of what’s to come. And as you stare at it, a part of you wonders if this is the right choice — if erasing Loki from your mind will truly set you free, or if it will only leave another kind of emptiness in its place.

But for now, you cling to the hope that it might bring you peace. That maybe you can find a way to start over.

The clinic is sterile, unnervingly clean, and entirely too quiet. The hum of the fluorescent lights overhead sets your teeth on edge as you sit in the waiting area, clutching the scarf in your lap like a lifeline. It still smells faintly of him, though the scent is fading. You know it’s your imagination more than anything else, but you don’t care. It’s all you have left.

The receptionist calls your name, and you stand, legs trembling as you follow her down a long corridor. Your friend is waiting outside in the car, insisting she couldn’t bear to come in. You told her you’d be fine, but now, as the door to the consultation room closes behind you, you’re not so sure.

The doctor is kind, their voice calm and reassuring as they explain the procedure once again. You listen, nodding at the appropriate times, but your mind is elsewhere — lost in the memories you’re about to give up.

“Do you have the belongings?” the doctor asks gently, gesturing to the small box you’ve brought with you.

You nod, setting it on the table with shaking hands. Inside are the remnants of your life with Loki: a book he loved to read aloud from, a pair of cufflinks he’d left on your dresser, and the scarf you’ve been holding onto for dear life.

The doctor notices your grip on the scarf and tilts their head. “You don’t have to let go of everything,” they say, their tone encouraging. “We can modify the memory tied to an object if you’d prefer to keep it.”

You glance down at the soft fabric, your fingers tracing the intricate weave. The thought of losing this piece of him entirely feels unbearable, but the idea of it being tied to him — tied to your grief — is equally suffocating.

“Can you… can you change the memory?” you ask hesitantly. “Make it something else?”

The doctor nods. “Of course. What would you like it to mean?”

You think for a moment, your mind swirling with possibilities. Finally, you settle on something simple, something that feels safe. “A lucky charm,” you say quietly. “It’s a scarf I’ve had for years, and I keep it for good luck.”

The doctor smiles gently. “We can do that.”

Before the procedure, they give you a moment alone to say goodbye — not to the belongings, but to the memories themselves.

You sit on the chair in the dimly lit room, the scarf draped across your lap. The illusion of Loki appears before you, as vivid as ever, his expression unreadable.

“So, this is it,” he says softly, his voice tinged with sadness.

You nod, tears welling in your eyes. “I guess it is.”

Loki steps closer, his gaze searching yours. “Are you sure this is what you want, my love?”

“I don’t want it,” you admit, your voice trembling. “But I need it. I need to move on. And I can’t… not like this.”

He reaches out, his fingers ghosting over your cheek, though you can’t feel his touch. “You’ve always been stronger than you know,” he murmurs. “Stronger than me, even.”

You let out a shaky laugh, fresh tears spilling over. “That’s not true.”

“It is,” he insists, his eyes glinting with that familiar intensity. “And now, you’ll prove it.”

For a moment, neither of you speaks. You simply look at him, memorizing every detail of his face, every nuance of his expression.

“Goodbye, Loki,” you whisper, your voice breaking.

His smile is soft, bittersweet. “Goodbye, my love.”

He fades slowly, the edges of his figure dissolving into the air until there’s nothing left but an empty room.

The doctor guides you into the operating chair, the soft hum of machinery filling the space. They place a device over your temples, adjusting the settings as they explain what to expect. You barely hear them, your mind still caught in the aftershocks of saying goodbye.

“This will be painless,” the doctor says gently. “You may experience flashes of the memories as they’re removed, but it will be quick.”

You nod, gripping the scarf tightly.

The machine begins to whir, and the first memory surfaces.

It’s the night you met him, his sharp wit and charming smile disarming you instantly. You remember the way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the room.

The memory dissolves, and another takes its place.

Loki teaching you magic, his laughter filling the room when you accidentally summon a puff of smoke instead of a flame. “We’ll make a sorceress of you yet,” he had said, pride gleaming in his eyes.

That memory fades, too, replaced by the time he held you under a canopy of stars, his voice a soft murmur as he told you stories of Asgard.

One by one, the memories play out, each one tugging at your heart until it feels like it might break entirely. But you let them go, because you have to.

The last memory is the hardest. It’s the day he left, his hand brushing against yours for the final time. You see the pain in his eyes, the love he couldn’t put into words, and it nearly undoes you.

“Be happy,” he had whispered, his voice cracking. “For both of us.”

As the memory fades, you feel a strange sense of peace. The pain is still there, but it’s muted now, distant.

When the procedure is over, the doctor removes the device and places the scarf in your hands. “It’s done,” they say gently.

You hold the scarf close, feeling its softness against your skin. It’s just a scarf now — a lucky charm, nothing more.

And as you leave the clinic, the weight on your chest feels a little lighter, the world a little brighter.

It’s not a perfect ending, but it’s a new beginning. And for now, that’s enough.

Life after the clinic is quieter, simpler.

You wake up each morning to sunlight streaming through your window, the warmth of it brushing your face. Your days are filled with routines now — a job you’ve rediscovered a passion for, weekend brunches with friends who are no longer burdened with worry over you, and quiet evenings spent reading or listening to music.

On the surface, everything seems fine. You smile more, laugh more. Your friends notice the change and comment on how much better you look. “It’s so good to have you back,” one of them says during a coffee date, her eyes brimming with relief.

You nod, sipping your latte, and try to believe her.

But there’s an ache in your chest that you can’t quite place. A dull, persistent tug that makes itself known when the world grows quiet — when you’re walking home alone in the evening or lying in bed just before sleep takes you. It’s not sharp or overwhelming, just… there. A void you can’t fill, no matter how hard you try.

Your apartment is different now. Cleaner, brighter. The curtains are drawn back to let in the sunlight, and the once-cluttered surfaces are neatly organized. You’ve even picked up a few plants, their green leaves adding life to the space.

And yet, sometimes, when you walk into the living room, you pause, your eyes lingering on the empty chair by the window. For a moment, you feel like something — or someone — should be there. But the thought slips away as quickly as it comes, leaving you puzzled but not overly concerned.

The scarf has become a part of your everyday life. You wear it on days when you need a little extra confidence, its soft fabric a comforting weight around your neck. It’s your lucky charm, though you can’t quite remember where you got it or why it feels so important.

One afternoon, as you’re folding laundry, you find yourself holding the scarf a little longer than necessary. A strange, bittersweet feeling washes over you, like you’re on the verge of remembering something — or someone — just out of reach.

You shake it off, folding the scarf neatly and tucking it away in your drawer.

Dreams come to you occasionally, hazy and fragmented. They’re filled with flashes of green and gold, the sound of laughter you can’t place, and the sensation of strong arms wrapping around you.

You wake from these dreams with a strange mixture of comfort and longing, your heart aching for something — or someone — you can’t name. But the feeling fades as the day goes on, replaced by the mundanity of everyday life.

One evening, as you’re walking home from work, a sudden gust of wind whips through the street, tugging at your scarf. You clutch it tightly, a shiver running down your spine despite the warmth of your coat.

For a brief moment, you feel as though you’re being watched, as though someone is standing just behind you, their presence familiar and reassuring. You turn quickly, your eyes scanning the empty street, but there’s no one there.

You laugh at yourself, shaking your head as you continue walking. But the feeling lingers, a warmth in your chest that stays with you for the rest of the night.

Time passes, and the ache in your heart becomes easier to ignore. You focus on the present, on the life you’ve rebuilt. You’re content, if not entirely happy.

But every now and then, when the world grows quiet, you find yourself staring into the distance, your fingers brushing absentmindedly over the scarf around your neck.

You don’t know what it is you’re searching for.

And maybe you never will.

ah yes, the angst! I love it, I've been crying for the last 2k words lol

[inexplicifics]

Hello Inex! I was just wondering how the Progress bunnies are cooperating; it seems like that will be a massive trip for the Kaer Morhen gang. Have you outlined it at all? Do you plan on having all the interactions in a few long fics? A bunch of short ones? An absolutely massive fic? You seem to keep each fic as a chapter in the characters’ lives, and while I would’ve originally thought of it as one big chapter in their lives, I imagine that some interactions could be important enough to warrant little sub-chapters. Not trying to overwhelm or be pushy or anything, I’m just constantly intrigued trying to guess what kind of story will come out of that series next (I’ve been wrong every time, but I feel like that’s half the fun)!

The Progress bunnies are fighting me vigorously.

I don't have an outline, because I don't use outlines; they actively kill the story-writing process for me, unfortunately. I know roughly where I want the Progress to go, but the details are very sketchy.

It's going to be a bunch of fics, because there's going to be different character focuses. I have a first draft of what we might call the first fic in the Progress arc (The Tide Is Turning) and a first draft of what might be one of the last fics in the arc (Grown Wise At Last) and a few drafts for other fics in the middle, but the overall story of it is fighting me.

Have a snippet from Raindrops the Children of Rain, a fic that will take place during the same winter as Morvran's visit to Kaer Morhen:

Lambert hears Milena make a soft, strange sound, and then smells tears. His head shoots up. She’s curled on the couch as usual, reading through the letters she’s gotten from her surprisingly numerous correspondents, and she was perfectly happy and content not ten seconds ago, but now she has a hand pressed to her mouth and a sheet of parchment clutched tightly in her other hand, and her eyes are bright, and her scent is horribly muddled. Lambert can’t tell what she’s feeling at all. “Shit, does Geralt have to go invade another kingdom?” he asks, hastening to his feet from his sprawl on the hearth and crossing the room to sit down next to her and wrap an arm around her shoulders.

[sunnybunnyy2]

My Ex-boyfriends New Girl

prologue

chapter summary: the events that force your hand in your revenge scheme come to light as you find out the man who you have loved for the past three years isn't the man you needed him to be. 

word count: 4.1k

pairings: Rafe Cameron x ex!fem!reader, Sofia x fem!reader

warnings: angst, cheating, toxic relationship, asshole Rafe, swearing, not much Sofia :/ and probably bad writing.

authors note: hi!! This is the prologue to my new Sofia fic series. Tumblr has not been doing my girl justice so I decided to take matters into my own hands and write for her. I deeply apologize for any typos or any mistakes (mostly if I confuse second person and third because I am not used to writing in second). Please reach out of you want to be added to the taglist!!

series masterlist next chapter

"Wow...I can't believe you did all of this..." you said as you admired the beautifully set table in front of you. It was littered with plucked red roses and lit-up orange candles. It was perfect- well at least nearly perfect. As much as you appreciated the gesture, you couldn't help but be saddened that the only flower on the table was the one you couldn't stand. 

You felt as though they were overused and cliche, but it wasn't necessarily the flowers that downed your mood but the mere fact that you had told him countless times how much you loathed them and yet, once again he had stuffed them in your face.

It was as though he never heard a single word that came out of your mouth. It was okay, you supposed as at least he put the effort in, in the first place. 

"Of course, I would, baby. It's our three year, I would be stupid if I didn't." Rafe stated with a small smile, that was all he was willing to offer after the events of his father's death. You could tell it was weighing him down but you couldn't do more than you already were. 

You were skipping your classes, sleeping over every night, had arranged the funeral with him and been by his side every step of the way. You were exhausted but you knew he was going through the worst time of his life and was going through worse than you. That's what you kept telling yourself, that he needed comfort more than you did. That had calmed you down for the time being but it had been months and you knew that you were gonna snap one day soon, leading you to truly hope that it was when Rafe was in a good headspace but with the way life was going, you didn't know when that would be. 

"Well, the stupid part is kind of debatable." You shrugged as you stabbed a piece of carrot with your fork. 

"Hey!" Rafe laughed softly as he kicked your leg under the table, his hand reaching for his glass of scotch. 

"I mean it though... thank you for doing all of this."

You said as you looked at him, your eyes full of love for the man you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with. He simply nods as he pours himself another drink, but you can tell from the light coat of pink on his cheeks that he is blushing. "I love you." You finished as you reached your hand over to hold the one that had a grasp on the bottle while he was still pouring a flood of alcohol into his glass. The action stopped him in his tracks as you lowered his hand and he let go of the half-full bottle. 

"I love you too, baby." He muttered the phrase as he looked into your eyes causing yours to water as you pulled away to fix the napkin on your lap and then began to eat the slightly burnt food your boyfriend had prepared.

-Six days later- 

From: Sister-in-law✨

Hey

Sent 4:34 pm

It's Sarah. I changed my number a few weeks ago I'm not sure if you have it or not.

Sent 4:34 pm

I just wanted to let you know that I broke into Tannyhill like an hour ago to get a few of my things and heard a girl in Rafe's room. 

Sent 4:36 pm

It didn't sound like you and if I'm wrong then I'm sorry but I don't think I am. 

Sent 4:37 pm

You stared at the messages in front of you as your eyes continued to read over them just like they had for the last five minutes. You couldn't seem to tear them away. 

You had known Sarah for the last three years, even before she went all pogue and left the only life she had ever known. And though you were confused about why she did at first- when Ward's toxic actions had come to light, you had driven your overly priced car over to the shack John B called home and simply hugged the girl. She had cried in your arms because she knew that even though you loved her brother, you had believed her and loved her too. 

Even when you had sat on the kook side of the courthouse the day John B was arrested, your sympathetic gaze was enough to let her know that you weren't sure what to do and chose to stick by the only life you had ever known, and she couldn't fault you for that. She would have done the same if it was just another Pogue, but it wasn't. It was the man she loved and she knew that you loved Rafe and needed to do what was right for your relationship.

You had called her later that night to give her any information that you might have known about what Rafe and Ward were planning which ultimately led to John B getting out... she would never forget what you did. 

You were her sister more than Rafe was her brother and that wasn't going to change just because you were doing what it took to keep the man you loved safe, just like she was. 

A tear dropped from your eye and landed on the blue messages causing some of the words to blur as you hastily pulled yourself out of your bedroom and ran to your car.

You couldn't even remember the ride over as you hurried up the stairs of Tannyhill. You did know one thing though, Sarah wouldn't have lied to you and even when you hoped Rafe hadn’t lied to you earlier that morning when he assured you that you could head back to your family home- It made sense to you. He sent you home so he could finally get alone time with his side piece. 

You whipped his door open and simply nodded to yourself when your boyfriend quickly pulled away from the blue-eyed redhead to meet your eyes before quickly rolling off the bed and pulling on his shorts when he finally processed who was standing in the doorway. You ran down the stairs of the biggest home on the island and the place that you had called your second home for the last three years.

You could hear the sound of the girl calling for him and the sound of him practically flying down the stairs behind you in hopes of catching you before you made it to your car and the probability of you running him over became more likely than you hearing him out.

He was faster than you thought as his large hand wrapped around your forearm, stopping you in your tracks. You whip around with your hand raised as you prepare to smack him across the face but he catches your arm with his other hand before he harshly shoves you backward. Tears run down your cheeks as you head down his too-long driveway and it certainly doesn't help that you decided to park right at the gate and run to his home. 

"Baby, just stop-" He started his voice thick as he ran after you, but he was cut off before he could speak further.

"Don't call me that! You can't just baby me and I'll somehow find it in myself to forgive you. It's not happening. Have a nice life with Merida." You shot back, your tone quickly turned from heartbroken to mocking as the second stage of grief took over.

"Look... after my dad, I just..." He bowed his head after he had finally found an excuse you may actually fall for as all the kind actions you had done for him after his father died flashed through his mind, a chill ran through him as guilt began to run through him as the extent of his choices had begun to settle in. He chose getting in the pants of a random girl over his girlfriend who had stood by him after all the bad he had done. A part of him hoped that you would do that this time- bend your morals to keep him by your side. 

"Jesus Christ! Don't you dare use his death as an excuse!" You shutter out a breath as you refuse to fall for his guilt-tripping. You knew that you act crazy when experiencing grief, you had experienced it yourself when you had lost your mother a few years back. You went through the stages of grief alone as your father travelled in hopes of returning and being a better father to you but instead of him becoming a better father, his running off completely ruined your relationship. You were all alone for months with no one by your side, until you met Rafe six months after the death of your mother. And though he didn't help you through it directly, his presence had filled some of the hole in your heart and had given you something else to focus on. 

You had been through the loss of your mother who died of stomach cancer, the loss of your cousin who was murdered and the loss of your younger sister who had perished in a car accident when you were twelve. You had known more about loss than anyone you had been close with and knew firsthand how grief could affect you- especially when you lose a parent- but Rafe had, had your support and love through it all. You had been by his side through it all even though he and his dad weren't close, even though your boyfriend had hired a hitman on his own father only to cheat on his girlfriend and blame it on his father when he had been dead for four and a half months. 

"Look," You continued as you brought your weakened arms up to your hips as you scrutinized him dead in his eye. "I'm sorry about your dad. I really am- but newsflash the guys dead! And he has been for months- and for months, I've been bending over backwards to help you get through it just for you... to prove to me that I made a mistake. That I wasted not just months of my life helping you but years of my life loving you." You saw the range of emotions that flashed over his face as he attempted to process your words. It started with tears at the mention of his father, but his sadness flashed to anger as you began to mention all you had done for him and looked as though he was about to interrupt you but you just kept going, until it flashed to something darker.

"I told you when we started out that I had three deal breakers. Disrespect of any kind, lying and cheating- and so far you've managed to cross them all off, didn't you? Should I start yelling bingo?" You let out an angry laugh that resembles a heartbroken one as you turn around and head to your car.

"If you take one more step, I will make sure you regret it." His words came out like they were natural like you were one of the people he despised most. As if you hadn’t been the most important person to him for the last three years. It was jarring how different his voice was when he wasn’t telling you he loved you. 

You stop in your tracks as a chill runs down your spine, there is something in his tone... an edge it has that sends a warning through you. You know what he's done and what he's capable of. And as much as it hurt you to think this, you could count every time he had ever scared on one hand but right now, this wasn't just fear creeping through you- it was terror. 

He didn't have anything to lose anymore. His mother had been gone since he was thirteen, Sarah had chosen her true family over her blood family, Rose had taken Wheezie just days after Ward's body was found and had run for the hills without even taking a second thought about the grief her stepchildren were going through while holding on to the remaining gold and lastly, the one person he loved more than this his siblings and more than you- his father- was gone and he was never coming back. 

He was no longer enrolled in college anymore and even if he was, he never went to his classes and definitely wouldn't now. He didn't have a job other than his half-assed company he was so hellbent on making. A large part of you felt sorry for him; he was going through a lot and didn't have anyone by his side, but an even larger part of you felt more bad for yourself. You loved him blindly, stuck with him after he took someone's life, stayed with him after he tried to kill his sister twice, stayed with him through his cocaine addiction, stayed with him after the death of his father and after his youngest sister was taken from him. You would have willingly been his home had he not shown you time and time again that he would stray for something else that caught his attention. First it it was the coke, then the gold, then his father's approval and now some random girl. You would have been crazed to even consider staying with him this time and to be frank, it didn't even cross your mind. 

"Is that a threat, Rafe? You gonna kill me like you killed Peterkin?" You asked sharply.

"Nah...you'll just have to wait and see. You're gonna regret ever leaving his driveway." A small, creepy smile spread across his face and it was that damn smile that showed you that you were right to be done with him. He had finally lost it. 

"Yeah, I don't think I will. Nothing you do to me would be worse than staying with you." And with those words you took that one step, the one that would seal your fate as you took those final steps to your sleek car before you pulled yourself in and slammed the door. Through the windshield window, you could see Rafe still standing there with his arms crossed as if he was expecting you to hop out of your car and run to him but he was clearly mistaken as you shifted your car gear and stepped on the gas like your life depended on it and in your defence, you were as you hurtled out of Tannyhill without looking back.

And though it was reckless you pulled out your phone as you slowed down on the gas when you considered yourself a safe distance away from your crazed ex boyfriend. With your phone in your hand, you opened up Sarah's contact and your eyes locked on her earlier messages. The same messages that seemed to blow up your three-year relationship. 

Hey

Sent 4:34 pm

It's Sarah. I changed my number a few weeks ago I'm not sure if you have it or not.

Sent 4:34 pm

I just wanted to let you know that I broke into Tannyhill like an hour ago to get a few of my things and heard a girl in Rafe's room. 

Sent 4:36 pm

It didn't sound like you and if I'm wrong then I'm sorry but I don't think I am. 

Sent 4:37 pm

You changed contact to: Sista from another mista ✨

To: Sista from another mista ✨

Thank you for telling me. It wasn't me. It was some rando Rafe was screwing.

Sent 5:59 pm

Me and your brother are done

Sent 5:59 pm

I am so sorry that I didn't leave him sooner, I was stupid but I'm not anymore. 

Sent 6:00 pm

I love you :/

Sent 6:02 pm

And a few minutes later you were in some fast food restaurant parking lot eating way too much food while slurping down a large milkshake as you accepted that multiple years of your life were wasted when Sarah finally responded. 

From: Sista from another mista✨

Omg Y/N, I'm so so so sorry

Read 6:16 pm

As much as I thought he loved you, he can never put anyone above himself and I'm sorry if you're not in the mood to shit talk him but you deserve better

Read 6:17 pm

You always have and it hurts that you're just realizing it now. 

Read 6:17 pm

No matter what you will always be my sister. I may love you even more now that you had the guts to leave him. 

Read 6:18 pm

To: Sista from another mista✨

It's fine. I was dumb asf, I guess I needed him to screw someone else to realize. 

Read 6:18 pm

Rafe is chaos and I guess I am too. 

Read 6:18 pm

Nothing has to change between you and me. I could even stop by more without Rafe on my ass. 

Read 6:18 pm

From: Sista from another mista✨

Yes!! That's such an upside and don't beat yourself up over it. You are not chaos. Rafe is. At least you left, my mom never did.

Read 6:19 pm

You could feel the hurt through the message. She loved her mom but she had never left her father even though he was a less-than-stellar husband. You had done what her mother didn't. 

I'm ALWAYS here if you need to talk, no judgment. 

Read 6:20 pm

I love you💗 always

Read 6:20 pm

To: Sista from another mista✨

I love you too Sare<3

Hearted 6:21 pm

The next day your life was flipped upside down after you received a call from Yale University to personally notify you that you had been expelled for unlawful drug use after Rafe had anonymously sent a video to your university of you doing coke for the first time two years ago after he had talked you into it and you hadn’t done it since as you didn't like how it made you feel. He even went as far as getting someone to plant a small amount of coke in your car resulting in you getting arrested in a ditch after being pulled over. After that, your father gave you an ultimatum. He speaks to Topper's grandfather who is a respected judge- and gets him to let you off the hook if you go to a rehab centre or you get charged for carrying drugs in your car and get up to a year in prison. And no matter how much you tried to convince him that you didn't do cocaine and that it was only that one time, he didn't even want to hear you out.

And as much as you didn't want to go to rehab, you knew that it was better than prison. 

Though you knew Rafe would want to get revenge on you for breaking it off with him, you never would have expected him to partake in such a deliberate and evil takedown for experiencing the consequences of his selfish actions. It was insane to think that you had spent years of your life with a man who you thought would do anything for you, he had looked at you like you hung the moon and the stars yet he had disrespected you and humiliated you beyond belief for some random girl? You had never seen her before so you could only assume she was a Pogue which you highly doubted from the way he spoke about lower-class people, so that could only mean that she was a tourist. He had thrown your whole relationship away for some girl who was gonna leave a few days later but he felt the need to single-handedly ruin your life for having a problem with it? 

You had kicked yourself every day you spent in the hellhole that was rehab, the doctors looked down upon you like you were the bane of their existence, it was exhausting constantly being judged for being an addict when you weren't even one, to begin with. Hell, the place made you want to do drugs. You couldn't quite understand why a place that was supposed to help you overcome addiction would do so little good with the amount of money that goes into funding them. 

Your stay at the rehab centre was only two months but it took you seven months to return to OBX as you were sent to go live with your aunt, Mae, in New York. And in those five months, you stewed as you put a plan into action to wreak havoc upon the man who ruined your life.

Now, eight months after the fall of the most talked about couple on the island- you were sitting in the country club sipping a pina colada that a pretty bartender made while wearing a beautiful floral dress. 

The booming sound of your ex-boyfriend's laugh brought you out of your head as you slowly turned your neck to look over at the approaching man, and thankfully he was by the other side of the bar which caused a smile to curl up your lips slightly as your plan seemed to set into motion, however- your smile dropped as he leaned down to kiss the pretty bartender who made your drink just a few minutes prior shocking you to your core. 

You had heard from Sarah that Rafe was dating some poor girl from the cut but you hadn't expected it to be the girl you had just made small talk with a few minutes ago, and you certainly hadn't expected her to be...her.

From your conversation, you could tell that she was a very sweet girl who was just trying to change the financial situation that she had been born into and you admired that deeply. In said conversation, you had learned that she was twenty-two making you two the same age and that she was born in Mexico City but moved to the cut when she was very young. 

You also couldn't ignore the fact that she was beautiful and if you were going to be serious, you were pretty jealous and not because Rafe had moved on- but because he was dating one of the most beautiful girls you had ever seen while you were tucked away in a facility or stuck in the presence of your annoying cousins.

You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear as you listen to their conversation.

"Hey, baby." He used to call me that. "I missed you this morning." So their sleeping over? You picked apart every word of their conversation, you couldn't even help yourself.

"I know," she laughed, "I'm sorry, again. I had to cover Gaby's shift."

"Yeah, yeah whatever you say." He laughed causing her to grin before she slapped his chest. "I gotta go, Toppers waiting. I just wanted to say hi and put our drinks in. I'll take-" He began to list what he wanted before the shorter girl shook her head as if she had already memorized his order, and she had.

"I know... Topper want the usual?" She asked as she began to tap on the device behind the bar to type in his drink order.

"Yeah, thanks." She nods in response, her eyes fixated on the task at hand. "Love you." He smiles as he backs away, his eyes still focused on his girlfriend. 

He used to say that to me all the time, you thought. 

Those words grab her attention as she looks up with a smile so wide you guessed that it hurt but it suited her quite nicely. "Love you." After that; he turned away and headed to his table and Sofia turned back to the monitor in front of her. Then, as if she sensed your eyes on her she pulled hers away from the screen and looked over at you. She smiled at you and if it wasn't so sweet you would have guessed that she was rubbing it in your face. 

"Would you like another?" She asked as she pointed to your nearly empty drink, you nodded gently and she turned around to work on your drink, deciding that her boyfriends and his best friends could wait. 

A wide smile fills the space of the small one that had covered your face just a minute ago as you mentally changed your whole plan of taking Rafe down for a crime he didn't commit after deciding that you had a better one in mind. One that he wouldn't never see coming and it all involved your ex-boyfriend's new girl and man- it was going to feel good.

[zepskies]

Oh why thank you, lovely!! 🥰 Omg I absolutely love it! You spoiled me with this amazing review of Part 3. 🥹

Your writing is always so well done (as I’ve said probably too much by now), but I keep on forgetting your ability to make me hate a character. First with Ames in Being Human, and now Countess. She was definitely getting on my nerves in this one. You write characters really realistically and draw from what already made them unlikable in the first place.

Wow thank you so much!! Ames White really is despicable, and it was an interesting challenge to try and write him in Being Human (thank you for linking the series!). For Countess, like you said I wanted to draw on what we saw of her on the show, and how I thought she would be likely to react to another (younger) woman in the group, especially one that's already attracting Ben's interest. 😬

This part made me laugh harder than I’d like to admit, it feels so accurate and I could completely see Ben shooting those ideas.

Ahaha if he could "found" Herogasm, then he could definitely inspire Playboy. 🤣

I’ve realized that even though I’m definitely not supposed to, I would’ve folded in that moment. Sirena is stronger than I am.

Honestly factsss. Sirena is MUCH stronger than I am, unfortunately. 🤪

And just like that, I’m back. Folding officially over. Ben definitely tried to be endearing, but it you can really see the time he’s from reflected in how he went about that.

Lmfao it's pique Ben playing the macho man card, and nobody's here for it. Especially not Sirena with her own nephew. 🙄

I read that and could instantly see him cashing in that kiss in front of the cameras. I’m excited to see where we go from here!! There’s so much more to get into the Sirena’s family dynamic, the whole push and pull with her and Ben, and all the animosity from Countess.

Ahahaa you'll soon see just what Ben has in mind. 😏 Yes, the next few chapters will dive deeper into Sirena's past and her family, and even more of the cat and mouse game between her and Ben, all while Countess plays the wild card in between...

Thanks so much again for diving back in to Lost on You!! 💚💚

Lost on You - Part 3

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: The tables are about to turn…

Word Count: 3.5K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Implied smut, drug use (weed smoking), and a bargain struck…

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Part 3: A Deal is a Deal

Once you were back from your little excursion, you were relieved to return to the privacy of your room. You dropped heavily down on the bed, face first, with an oof.

Rolling onto your back, you stared up at the white ceiling. Perfectly white. Unbidden, the memories of spending the day with Ben filtered through your mind. You were a little put out to realize you had mostly enjoyed yourself through it all, even though you knew he was only doing it to hook you in. To charm you.

To fuck you.  

But the memory of his cocky grin, the restrained power in his hands whenever he touched you, the feeling of his lips dragging against your skin, and his sinful voice…

Well, pulling away from him had taken more restraint than you’d anticipated. Rolling your eyes at yourself, you sat up and went over to your desk where your phone sat. It was time to check in at home.

You dialed the number from memory and waited as the line rang.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Dad, it’s me.”

“Oh! Hey, honey. How’s it going over there. You all settled in? Get to do your first save yet?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m good,” you said. “I was meant to do my first save today, but…well, some things didn’t go according to plan.”

“Oh, really?” He sounded disappointed. It carved another small notch in your gut.

“It’s no big deal. I’ll get another chance soon,” you promised.

“Your first save on camera is important for your PR. They can’t wait too long on that,” he said.

You resisted the urge to sigh. You dropped your forehead into your hand, still holding the phone to your ear with the other.

“Yeah, I know,” you said. “Anyway, how’s Mom?”

He sighed. “You know. Good days and bad days. Today…today was a bad day.”

You tugged your lower lip between your teeth. Your brows furrowed with concern, and a familiar ache settled in your chest.

“Can I talk to her?” you asked.

“Ah, I just got her to take her medication. She’s resting now.”

“Okay. Yeah, don’t worry about it then,” you said. “…Do you think you guys will be coming up to visit with Chris this weekend?”

“You know what, I’m sorry, honey. I just don’t think it’s a good idea. All those people,” he said. You were nodding before he finished the thought, even if he couldn’t see you.

“Yeah, it’s okay. They’ve got me pretty busy right now, but I’ll come by and see you guys when I can.”

“All right. Sounds good,” he said. “Oh, before I let you go. I got the latest bills on your mother’s treatments. It’s just, it’s a bit too much for us. Think you could help us out again?”

You paused for a second, but you readily agreed.

“Sure, just let me know how much. I’ll write you a check.”

“Perfect. Thank you, honey.”

“Yeah, of course,” you said. “Um, tell Mom I said hi then. When she wakes up.”

“Aw, I will. Don’t worry. Now, go out there and make some saves!”

Your lips pursed. “Yep, will do.”

When you hung up with your father, you felt even more exhausted than before.

You had another mission on your schedule, this time with Black Noir, Soldier Boy, and Gunpowder. Your excitement had built all day after Arthur’s assistant Joanna called you with the news.

However, when you got downstairs to the lobby where you were meant to meet the team, you found Crimson Countess in heated discussion with Arthur himself. 

He looked a bit exasperated, but was trying his best to be professional with her. You had a bad feeling about this. 

“I understand, but this is meant to be Sirena’s day,” Arthur said. “We’ll get you and Soldier Boy together on the next one. Just you two, if you guys want.”

“It’s just that Ben and I haven’t done enough together recently. I miss him,” she said, hanging off her boyfriend’s arm. Ben himself seemed to be going along with the idea, looking like he didn’t much care one way or the other. Yet his slight smile looked smug. It likely stroked his ego to have her wanting to be with him for once. 

She even leaned up for a kiss. Ben spotted you out of the corner of his eye. His smile kicked up a notch before he obliged her with a slow kiss.

Your gaze fell to the ground as you swallowed your irritation. It wasn't jealousy, however. You knew exactly what she was doing.

Arthur sighed. He’d noticed you as well. He gave you an apologetic look, but he came over and informed you that it would just be original team members today. Considering the last episode with you and Countess, he thought it best that they didn’t team you up again for your first official save.

Couldn’t agree more, you thought, but it also meant that you wouldn’t be going out with the team today. You’d be losing a prime opportunity to show what you could do and finally get the ball rolling on some good PR.

Countess shot you a wink when she and the rest of the team started to head out. You gave her a fake smile.

Fucking bitch.

The weekend came, and you had to put on a good face to hide your latent frustrations from your brother, Chris. He and his family had come to visit you, driving over from Queens.

When they arrived in the Tower lobby, you went to them and let your brother pull you into a big bear hug. It brought a genuine grin to your face as you hugged him back. You hadn’t seen him in months.

“Hey, troublemaker,” he said.

“What do you mean? I’ve been on my very best behavior,” you quipped.

He smiled wryly. “I’m sure.”

He pulled back so that Danny, your four-year-old nephew, could run up to you. You bent to his level and gave him a big hug as well.

“Hey, buddy!” you said. “Did you get the action figures I sent you for your birthday?”

“Oh, he did,” said Ellie, your sister-in-law. “To no one’s surprise, Soldier Boy’s his favorite. He sleeps with it under his pillow.”

You laughed a little dryly at that. Danny was a big superhero fan as well, but there was no accounting for taste. Your brother sidled up to you for a conspiring whisper.

“Yeah, about that. Is the big guy busy?” Chris asked. “Because I may have accidentally promised Danny that he’d get to see Soldier Boy today, and he hasn’t shut up about it ever since we started planning this trip. It’s literally the only thing he wants. So maybe now that you’re a famous superhero, you can do your big bro a solid so the kid doesn’t have the world’s most epic meltdown—”

“All right, all right. Shut up,” you said, holding back a laugh. Inside though, you were strained.

Shit.

“Okay, why don’t you guys hang out in the lobby for a bit, check out the gift shop,” you said. “I’ll…see if Soldier Boy isn’t too busy.”

You braved going up to Ben’s apartment on the penthouse floor, where three beautiful, if scantily clad escorts were just leaving. One of them was stuffing a wad of cash into her bra. Rolling your eyes in disdain, you almost lost your nerve.

This isn’t for you, you reminded yourself. It was for your nephew.

So you knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” you heard from inside.

“It’s me, Sirena.”

There was a pause, but eventually he replied.

“Come in.”

You had some trepidation twisting the knob and opening the door. When you stepped into his suite for the first time, you weren’t surprised to be assaulted by the smell of sex and weed smoke. You waited in the foyer of a lavish space, with shiny marble floors and rich dark wood furniture.

Ben padded out to you barefooted, but at least he was clothed, in a black silk robe no less. He was also smoking a fat blunt.

“What’re you, Hugh Hefner?” you couldn’t help a remark.

Ben grinned around his oral fixation. He blew a coil of dank smoke up into the air.

“Who do you think gave him the whole Playboy idea?” Ben said. He eyed you in your supe suit. “What can I do for you, baby doll? You caught me at a good time. Although, about twenty minutes ago would’ve been even better.”

Hiding your disgust, you waved the gray, musty cloud away from your face.

“Since it’s a good time, I actually wanted to…ask you for a favor,” you said. You knew how dangerous that really was by the way he smiled.

“Okay,” he said expectantly. You released a breath to steady yourself.

“My family’s here visiting, and understandably so, you’re my nephew’s favorite superhero.”

Ben chuckled through his nose, releasing more smoke like a fire breathing dragon.  

“Understandably, huh?”

“Of course,” you said. You made sure your smile seemed sincere. “Look, about what happened last week…I hope you’re not upset with me. I had a lot of fun with you that day, and I’m really grateful that you wanted to show me a good time. To be honest, I’m incredibly flattered that you even noticed me.”

You took a step closer into his orbit, until your chest was inches away from brushing his. He looked down at you. 

“But I know I’m the rookie here. I don’t want to step on any toes, especially Countess’s. I have a feeling she doesn’t like me very much,” you said. Your eyes were half-lidded in demure. 

You were putting on your best performance. He only took half the bait, however. Ben’s mouth quirked at the corner, and he set his blunt on a nearby ashtray.

“I understand,” he said. “So what do want from me?”

Hmm, maybe your rejection had bruised his ego more than you expected. But really, he had to be refusing to break up with Countess for appearance’s sake, because there didn’t seem to be any real love there.

Christ, he wants to have his cake and eat it too.  

“Well, like I said. My nephew is downstairs, and he’d really love to meet you,” you said. “Could you, uh…pretend to be a little more family friendly for a minute and take a quick picture with him?”

Ben frowned, like he was offended. “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean? I’m a family guy.”

You raised a brow. Glancing around his apartment, you didn’t see any pictures on the walls, nor had you ever even heard him talk about his family.

“What’s in it for me then?” he asked, crossing his arms.

You blinked your eyes wider. Really?

“I doubt whatever you’re thinking, Soldier,” you said, a little more snidely than you meant to.

Ben’s cocky smile said it all.

Your lips pursed in exasperation. You hadn’t thought you would have to bargain to get him to be nice to a kid. 

“Okay, I’m sorry. Clearly you’ve had a long day, so I’ll just get out of your way,” you said, raising your hands in surrender. You turned to leave.

“All right, don’t get your panties in a twist,” he said.

You paused at the door, tossing him an annoyed look over your shoulder.

His smile deepened. “I’ll do it.”

His steps were measured as he approached you. You turned back to face him, albeit warily. As he seemed to like doing, he gently grasped your chin between his fingers.

“I’ll do it for a kiss,” he said.

You tried to stifle your smile of amusement.

“One kiss?” you clarified.

“One kiss,” he agreed. “That’s harmless, right?”

Unlikely. But it was a bargain you were willing to make. It might even work in your favor.

“Okay,” you nodded, guiding his hand away from your face. “After you hang out with my nephew, for five minutes at least.”

He smirked at you. “You’re a demanding little thing.”

You gave a more impish smile. He then walked away to his bedroom, presumably to get dressed. You hoped he’d take a quick shower as well.

Ben found you downstairs in the lobby, now cleaned up and dressed in his supe suit. He hammed it up with your family. He was charming with your brother and your sister-in-law, and welcoming to your nephew, calling him young man and sport and pal and recounting an old war story with gusto. 

When it was time to take a picture with Danny, Ben lifted the kid up into his arms, pretending he weighed a ton. It made a normally shy Danny giggle with glee, and Ben playfully held him under his arm so he could ruffle his hair. You noticed some genuine joy on the man’s face.

Afterwards, Danny even unzipped his backpack and showed his hero his collection of action figures. His prize’s possession, of course, was Soldier Boy.

Things were going so well that Chris and Ellie felt comfortable enough to break off and grab some food at the food court, while you stayed with Ben and Danny. They sat on one of the couches in the lounge area, play fighting with the action figures.

“So, got yourself a girlfriend yet?” Ben asked.

When Danny made a face of confusion, you shot the man a pointed glance.

“He’s a kid, Ben.”

He shrugged with a grin. “Fine. A little early for that, huh? Trust me, not for long.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“What’s your favorite sport to play at school then?” Ben asked.

“Ummm…” Danny thought about the question. He was busy creating a small Lego tower for Swatto to perch on. “Connect 4.”

“Connect 4?” Ben repeated. He shot you a glance, and he leaned over. “Kid ain’t too bright, is he?”

“He’s four years old,” you whispered indignantly. “He’s not exactly getting drafted for the NFL.”

Again, Ben shrugged you off and continued playing with the kid. You had a feeling he was enjoying it more than he’d be willing to admit.

When Chris and Ellie returned with food for you and Danny as well, Ben took it as his cue to duck out of the rest of the family activities.

“Thank you for your time, Soldier Boy,” Chris said, shaking his hand firmly. You knew he was trying to come off as manly as he could. You hid a smirk behind your hand while Ben obliged him with a nod.

“Yes, thanks so much!” Ellie gushed. She’d got a picture on her own with Ben earlier, and Chris had tried to pretend to be okay with the way she’d hung off the supe’s arm with proverbial stars in her eyes.

“You’re very welcome, ma’am,” said Ben, laying a smiling kiss on her hand. You thought her heart might just stop right there.

You sighed and took Ellie by the shoulders. “Okay, why don’t you sit down before you pass out.”

“Good idea,” she said breathily.

“You’re leaving?” Danny asked. He looked up at Ben with big glassy eyes, and he started to cry.

Chris grasped his shoulder and smoothed back his hair. “Aw, buddy. Soldier Boy’s really busy, and it was really nice of him to spend so much time with you.”

You laid a hand on Danny’s other arm. You glanced up at Ben, imploring him with your eyes, though you didn’t exactly know what you were asking for.

With a subtle sigh, Ben relented. He lowered down and took a knee in front of Danny.

“All right, none of that now. There’s two things a man doesn’t do: cry, and take shit from anybody,” he said. You frowned, but before you could say anything, Ben laid a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “I’m not going to forget you, Danny. In fact, I’m really glad I got to meet you today. Because I can tell you’re gonna be a great man someday.”

Danny sniffed, but his tears stopped. He smiled when Ben ruffled his hair again.

Despite yourself, you smiled too as you watched the scene.

Maybe he does have a heart in there somewhere.

After dinner, you gave your brother and his family a tour of Vought Tower, including your apartment. An hour later, you led them back to the lobby. They had booked a hotel nearby and were planning to see more of the city tomorrow before they went back to Queens.

You were grateful to get some time alone with your brother first, while Ellie took Danny for one last stop at the gift shop. You and Chris sat together in the lounge area.

“Is Dad still asking you for money?” he asked.

You frowned at him. “For Mom’s medical bills. It’s not like it used to be.”

“Okay,” Chris said, glancing away. “It’s just ironic that Mom and Dad can’t really appreciate how far you’ve come, after everything they did to get you here. After everything you did to get here.”

You sighed. They’d had variations of this conversation before, and it never ended well.

“It’s not her fault she got sick,” you said.

“Yeah, it can’t be the pack-a-day she smoked since we were kids.”

“Chris.”

“Well, it didn’t just tickle her lungs and kidneys,” he pointed out. “I swear, our family should’ve been sponsored by the Marlboro Man.”

You shook your head and glared at him. “She’s getting really bad now.”

“Yeah, I know. You weren’t the only one they called asking for money,” he said. He quieted in contemplation.

Despite his attitude, you knew he was hurting. This was just how he dealt with pain—by pretending he didn’t feel it.

Chris eventually sighed, relenting a little as he grabbed your shoulder. “Sorry. I know it’s always been harder on you. I just…they want to pretend like all that other shit never happened, you know?”

You nodded, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond. You didn’t have the energy to get into all that other shit. Not today.

After you said your goodbyes to your family, you steeled yourself and ventured back up to the penthouse floor. This time when you knocked on Ben’s door, he was properly clothed, now out of his supe suit and wearing a nice shirt tucked into some dark brown slacks. He was halfway to putting on a pale gold Rolex.

He must be going out, you thought.

“Two visits in one day? Boy, do I feel fuckin’ special,” Ben remarked. He offered you a drink, and you accepted. You actually needed something to calm your nerves.

He led you into the living room and made you a vodka soda upon your request. He poured a glass of bourbon for himself. You slipped a finger around the rim of your glass, and you met his expectant gaze.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” you said, “for what you did today.”

You then smiled wryly. “I know it wasn’t without motive, but it made my nephew really happy.”

You took another sip of your drink and set it down on a ledge above the fireplace. It was your turn to look up at him expectantly.

“Okay. A deal is a deal,” you said. “One kiss. I’m sure you’ll make the most of it.”

Ben set down his own glass beside yours. He drew closer, looming over you. You almost felt the warmth of him; you certainly felt his anticipation. Or was that your own?

His head bowed, ever closer. But he stopped just shy of his lips brushing yours.

“Not just yet,” he said. He pulled back from you, making your brows furrow.  

“Not yet?” you asked incredulously.

“Just what I said, sweetheart,” he grinned.

You blinked up at him in confusion, and then in annoyance, though you tried to keep it off your face.

“Must we play this game? Just kiss me,” you said. You grasped his arms in invitation, but he slipped out of your hold.

“I don’t think so,” he said.

“But why?” you asked. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Apparently it is to you, rookie,” Ben said. He stepped back into your personal space, but you held your ground. “So I played nice, like the gentleman I am. But now, it’s gonna be my right to claim my prize when I want to.”

Your lips pursed. So he wanted to change the rules, did he?

You adopted a more magnanimous smile.

“Fine,” you said.

You grabbed your vodka soda and took another poised sip before you slipped it into his hand. Then you turned on your heel and left his apartment.

Ben watched you go with a smirk on his face. He raised his own glass back to his lips. He knew then that no matter what game you were playing at, he’d finally gotten under your skin.

AN: Ben's pressing his luck, isn't he? 😂 But I think you guys are going to like where we're going next...

(Bet you wondered why a song from Grease was on the music playlist for this series. 😉)

Next Time:

Arthur nodded. “Well, Soldier Boy agrees that you’re impressive. And he’s been chomping at the bit for something new. So, I talked to Madelyn and the rest of the team, and we think you two should do a duet together. A cover.”

You blinked a bit wider. “O-Oh, really? Of what?”

“You remember ‘You’re the One That I Want,’ by John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John?”

“From Grease?” you asked with furrowed brows. That movie was like, five years old already. But you did see the previews for a new movie John and Olivia just did together, Two of a Kind. It was set to come out later this year.

“Exactly,” Arthur said, pointing at you. “It could be bigger than the movie!”

You doubted that, but it was still a great opportunity for you. The exact kind you'd been waiting for. There was just one problem.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 4

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[nylloth]

My opinion about Arcane s2 (mostly Viktor)

I'm trying to be neutral on this, but I'm upset with what they did to Viktor.

I was wrong about their relationship with Sky (but I had hope), you can see he never really cared for her and the animators put their all into conveying that. Plus, let's say Sky represents Viktor's humanity and Viktor himself gives up on her. And it's a lot easier for him to give her up than it is for Jayce, who he's trying to show this new “world” to.

They have a lot of gay moments with Jayce, I don't know why the writers call it “family”. It's really hard to see family in that. It seems like at some point they decided to change the plot, because at the end Jayce and Viktor just disappear and no one just doesn't care what Jayce has with Mel.

The thing I didn't like the most was how they changed Ryze, that now Ryze is Viktor, the all-powerful mage. We know from the documentary that it was Ryze at one point. That would make more sense than Viktor traveling through time and constantly dooming himself to a series of miseries. But then again, they added the “all for Jayce” aspect to it.

You can see it's supposed to be a different character, right?

I really didn't like how they treated Sky because obviously she wasn't an evil manipulative core. Viktor killed her twice for his own purposes. Once by accident, the second time on purpose. Look, you add a girl who is IN LOVE with a man, make her die twice for him, and show WHY he doesn't care. It's a dirty act. Amanda said she was “proud to write Sky”, I don't know what there is to be proud of. As a woman, it was painful for me to watch. You didn't have to do that. Did you mean to say the character is gay? You don't have to humiliate women to do that.

I always hoped Viktor wouldn't have any romantic innuendos because feelings, for Herald, are a weakness. But the fact that they're indulging JayVik fans makes it look NOTHING like that. Like, I'm not a fan of this ship, but even I don't consider what they showed as brotherly feelings. Especially from Viktor's side. He is literally too concerned with Jayce's opinion.

I also think that the writers largely emphasized the clips and fights, but didn't add to the story itself. I mean Silco's deep thoughts in the first season on political topics and the theme of family in general was shown much better.

Herald is essentially non-existent. It's a character for the last two episodes who is immediately killed off because of a few words from Jayce. Viktor returns and they vaporize somewhere. I take it this is starting a recurring time loop.

They kind of tried to put in Viktor's “here he's come to the realization on his own that humanity is bad”, but they did it SO FAST and literally because of one event that it looked bad. Yeah, it's not about hexcore. VIKTOR SUPPOSEDLY CAME TO THIS ON HIS OWN. Why? Because Jayce shot him, and then Jayce helped him realize otherwise. No, really, what was that?

I also didn't like the redesign. I was hoping the mask would look different, but it looks HORRIBLE.

It's supposed to give the impression that Viktor “shut down and withdrew into himself”, they also tried to make him a “deity”, but since it only lasted 20 minutes before he went back to his normal state, it didn't make any sense… Anyway… I sympathize with everyone who loved Viktor specifically, outside jayvik ship (happy for you guys). I know they are excited, but this is not Viktor's story. You see, Viktor doesn't have his own personal story now, he's too connected to Jayce. You could say he did everything and nothing at the same time. Because he keeps running this time loop, but he's running it because of Jayce's influence.

Waiting for his updated lore to read….. idk I'll read it and forget it like a bad dream.

[sunshine-zenith]

On my daily rewatch of anw I'm thinking about how people thought Hazel and Dev should've swapped fairies because of how unfair the godparent system was and how Dev needed more experienced godparents or how Peri should've been assigned an easy case and while that may be true, I'm just thinking how that swap would have suited the kids' needs.

With Dev, yes, he was a hard case and probably should've had godparent who had more experience with children like him, but he is a child who is lacking in the parental department and needed someone to fill that role.

Same is true for Hazel. She would have been more suited for a first-time godparent, but what she needed and missed the most was her brother and who do we know who has experience with being someone's godbrother? Peri.

I'm probably just rephrasing stuff here so this probably didn't need to be said. Everything more or less worked out for everyone and eventually for others (hopefully).

Anon I have been rotating this ask around in my head since it popped up into my ask box

Confession: I and many others have thought about the similarities between Peri and Hazel, and pointed out that Dev was not a case for a beginner, but I haven’t seriously considered a full out fairy swap until now because I’m actually very fond of the Hazel-Cosmo-Wanda dynamic and the Dev-Peri tragedy dynamic

Still… yeah, you’re kinda right. Dev genuinely would’ve been better suited for experienced godparents, and he might actually benefit from Cosmo and Wanda specifically because A) there’s two of them and B) they’re very parental with their godkids. And Hazel — having Hazel, the kid who misses her brother so much it tipped over the Needs A Fairy edge, be paired up with the godparent who lost his older brother is kinda brilliant

It kinda makes me wonder about how things would be different if we got Hazel-Peri and Dev-Cosmo-Wanda…

Heads up, this gets long

The first thing I wonder about isn’t so much the dynamics, but rather who would be the protagonist? I adore Hazel as a main character, but Cosmo and Wanda are the FOP difacto mascots. They’re the ones who get the cameos and appear in the reboots/sequels. They can exist independently from Timmy/Hazel/Chloe/Viv. If they’re Dev’s fairies, then Dev would be the main POV character. And like. I love Dev, I do, but he’s an asshole. I understand why and I’m down to justify anything he does, but he’s a dick. Plus, well, he’s also super sad. It’d be very hard to make him a fun POV character, especially pre/mid-character development, at least without switching the genre from Heart Felt Comedy Aimed At Children/All Ages to something much darker and more mature. He’s a great side character/deuteragonist, but it would be a Commitment if we followed him 95% of the time

(And before anyone comes at me about Timmy also being The Worst, a lot of that was flanderization. By the time he gets that that point, let’s be real a lot of people stopped watching, and even then he at least had half a dozen I Love Yous and sweet moments with Cosmo and Wanda to make the commitment worth it to the audience.)

Hazel and Peri

So if we keep Hazel as the lead and Peri as her fairy, how’d that work, writing wise? Do we keep his introduction the same and hope the audience is fine with a Sequel Babies Series. Or (and this is just me having fun), do we hypothetically cut out the part where he Introduces Himself With His Deadname For The Audience’s Sake and just hint at him as being Poof from the original series. Then, after Founder’s Day, we introduce Cosmo and Wanda as Dev’s fairies, and the Peri Is Grown Up Poof thing is treated as a Big Reveal, a la Author Of The Journals from Gravity Falls

Now that out of the way, how do I think these dynamics would work, and how would it affect Dev and Hazel’s relationship?

Like you said, Hazel and Peri connecting over missing brothers is a great starting point, and Peri getting to be the big brother for once would be so much fun to watch. Plus, and I’ve pointed this out before, they’re both rule followers (I can totally see a gag of them bonding over Hazel’s DMV love), though Hazel is willing to play things by ear, while Peri gets majorly stressed/anxious/high strung when rule breaking is in question — in fact, that could be a fun angle to some potential conflicts. Hazel makes a wish, but she doesn’t know how to find the words for what she wants, and since Peri is so new, he doesn’t have the experience to confidently guess. He hesitates, both of them get caught in a mini Anxiety Loop, and escalating event happening in the background force them into action, and through hijinx, they both receive character development

I can also see the Antony thing leading to conflict for them — Hazel’s brother is gone, but he comes back. He visits. They reconnect. Meanwhile, Timmy’s gone gone. His memory is wiped. I can see Peri occasionally accidentally fumbling Hazel’s missing Antony with his own likely grief over Timmy. Maybe after another missed flight or phone call, Peri tries to be “supportive” in the same way he tried to cheer Dev up at his birthday, and he accidentally says something that makes Hazel not only miss her old life, but thing she’ll never have any sort of relationship with Antony again.

Or maybe Peri does handle it well until Antony comes back. Then, alongside Hazel trying to recreate the past, Peri gets overwhelmed with jealousy, like he was when Irep tried taking his place with Dev but dialed up by 10. He worries he’ll lose his first godkid AND be fumbling with reawakened grief

(Plus hey, I can actually see this scenario as a good way to justify bringing Timmy back. Maybe Hazel could even include Timmy’s memories as part of her Rule Free Wish in the finally)

Basically Hazel and Peri have so much in common that if they were the main duo, those similarities could lead to so many bonding moments AND dramatic moments where through being mirrors for each other they accidentally hurt each other and help each other to grow as people

(It makes me wonder how Peri would hide himself in Hazel’s day to day life. Peri becomes inanimate objects for Dev, sure, but he doesn’t have a consistent object he hides as. Maybe Peri could have a human disguise, pretending to be a recent college grad who moves into Hazel’s building? Or maybe he could be a “new pet rock”?)

(Also I have a lot of thoughts on C&W being disguised as pets for Timmy and neighbors for Hazel, but that’s a ramble for another day.)

Dev, Cosmo, and Wanda

So the first question is how would Dev become Cosmo and Wanda’s godkid? They weren’t actually assigned to Hazel, they basically just adopted her. Maybe, Cosmo and Wanda could still be traveling and just end up in Dimmadelphia around Founder’s Day, and through their observations, they seen Dev is going through it and come out of retirement for him. This could also lead to a Cookie situation with Dev instead of Hazel (imagine Dev pretending to be a lawyer, there would 100% be a gag of him acting as every shady lawyer stereotype you know.)

I can see Dev still lashing out at them, probably still demanding perfection for hollow wishes since he can’t get what he really wants, BUT C&W would cause mischief as they misinterpret his wishes. I can also see him acting unimpressed/impatient when they take him on little side quests to meet with fairies that specialize in the things he wishes for. He’s have to defrost to them, and they (likely especially Cosmo) would push his buttons. Dev would also probably deny having fun during these adventures. I’m sure he’d eventually come to see them the same way he saw Irep)

A potential conflict could come from the fact that a lot of Dev’s wishes are by nature spiteful/fueled by pride. Again, major Dev apologist here, we’re talking about the kid who wished for a an evil ghost to come from the depths of hell after having a fairy for less than a week. C&W would still grant his wishes, but they wouldn’t approve of him being a bully, and would probably try really hard to get him to realize the error of his ways through these wishes

It’s likely that Dev wouldn’t even get involved with the anti-fairies here. If he did, I can only see this after Dev specifically makes a wish relating to his father loving him, which C&W can’t grant, or something similar — a breakdown after a big, direct moment instead of a breakdown after months of little, indirect moments

I can also see him both clinging to them as parental figures and resenting them as misplaced anger and sadness over his neglectful dad

I can also see him seeing Peri (and maybe even Timmy) as a threat here — Peri is their son, who they adore like Dev wishes Dale adored him. And since Peri isn’t Dev’s godparent here and therefore doesn’t feel the need to look out for/do right by him, Peri would like sass him harder or treat him as an annoyance, an extension of any tension that comes up when C&W their clingy thing. In a scenario where Dev still ended up under an anti-fairy’s influence, he might even wish Peri was Nothing, or still kidnap Peri here out of misplaced resentment

Dev and Hazel

I feel like swapping fairies would also affect their relationship. Part of their comes from Dev’s jealousy over Hazel’s relationship with C&W — she has two while he only has one, she has a positive relationship with her while his “can’t do anything right” (can’t cross the red tape of Da Rules, doesn’t have the experience/comfort level to go buckwild with wishes/has parents that love him/etc). Here, that wouldn’t be a problem— Hazel wouldn’t care that Dev has two fairies instead of one, and C&W would probably have an easier time getting through Dev’s defenses. It’s possible that a lot of their fights and negative interactions just wouldn’t happen here, and if they did, it would be related to Hazel wanting Dev to be nicer to C&W/Peri.

[respectthepetty]

Hiii! Hope you have had a lovely Christmas.

I was watching His and the pre-series and the guys are red & blue. But I noticed that green was a big factor in the film.

I wondered if you had any thoughts.

I did notice at the end the ex wife seemed to be green, so I wasn’t sure if the green was linked to her.

It's been almost one year since you asked me this, and I'm finally delivering an answer because I am setting His free from Petty Prison four years after locking it up as part of me giving thanks to the BL gods for Thanksgiving.

His (Colors)

In the series, Shun is a Blue Boy and Nagisa is a Red Rascal.

Which makes perfect sense because only a Red Rascal would invite someone else to go with him to break up with his girlfriend, and only a Blue Boy would be loyal enough to actually go and witness him break up with his girlfriend.

And this was only on the second day of knowing each other! But then again, it was love at first sight for Nagisa.

Which is partly why it was never going to work with Chika. The other part is that they are too similar.

Chika is cool, but Nagisa needs someone who is not so close to his color because he needs a balance. Between the two colors, blue is better for him.

He needs a more reserved person, not someone who is loud and social.

But Shun just isn't blue.

And the more his feelings develop for Nagisa, the greener he gets.

Which is why, just like Nagisa and Chika, it was never going to work out between Shun and Ako. They are too similar.

The boys need each other because they make each other see the world differently instead of simply seeing it the same way they have always seen it.

So as Nagisa's feelings quickly rise to the surface as he becomes more enamored by Shun, we see more green.

And when he finally becomes so overwhelmed by his his emotions for Shun, who he thinks is dating Ako . . .

He kisses Chika, who is in green, which almost caused me to throw the series in Petty Prison.

But he realizes his mistake, and in his pink = 💕love💕 sweater in front of the red thread stairs of destiny, he finally admits to Chika that he loves Shun.

And we end with a promise of the boys keeping in touch and Shun returning in the summer while Nagisa wears the thinnest of blue stripes and Shun's backpack has little red stripes on it.

(But then again, they were exchanging colors and stealing glances of each other changing on the second day, so they really have been in love this entire time)

So we begin the movie with them still very much in love and still exchanging colors even in university.

UNTIL NAGISA DECIDES TO BE TRUE TO HIS COLOR AND BURN EVERYTHING DOWN BECAUSE HE IS IMPULSIVE!

And this is why His has sat in Petty Prison for four years because this wild ass Red Rascal decided to break the love of his life's heart so he could pursue his passion and be "normal," only to just randomly show up on that broken man's doorstep YEARS LATER expecting that man to take care of him AND HIS CHILD! THE AUDACITY!!!!!!

And to make it worse, the movie begins in the present with Shun in green still in love with Nagisa with a red book over his face and Ogata commenting that Shun is basically a dead man (because he hasn't been living since that devil broke his heart!)

But the best part of the movie is where the brightest green shows up. If it weren't for Sora, and her favorite book about an alligator writing letters to his friend to visit him IN THE SUMMER, these two would not have found their way back to each other.

Sora was even the one to unintentionally push them out of the closet in her tiny green sweater.

She understands the color assignment since after Nagisa and Shun were caught kissing in the kitchen, Nagisa finally wore green.

And this is important. Nagisa has always been surrounded by green even in the series. He has always been aware of his feelings for Shun since the first day he met him, but Nagisa has not worn green, so him wearing it now, getting a job, and wanting to make a home with Shun shows he is finally serious about making this work WITH Shun.

Which finally allows Shun to forgive Nagisa, confess to the entire community (at a funeral) that he and his boyfriend are not just friends but homosexuals, and to wear Nagisa's color.

So even though you thought the green came from the mom, the mom is still trying to figure out what "normal" means now that she is a single working mother with a gay ex-husband. But no matter how much she clings to her version of "normal," Sora has always known what it is.

Green is the new pink.

Because that's the color of her dads' love.

[one-chaotic-neautral]

Ok lets talk about that epilogue

it's been pointed out to me that maybe Jinx didn't die which is awesome, so I had to go back and check.

they're right, there is a shimmer pink flash going away from the explosion for a few frames I missed on first watch.

and later on Caitlyn is looking at the blueprints of the Hexgates,

specifically the air ducts,

while looking at Jinx's monkey bomb, the same one used by jinx earlier. So Cait's been to the explosion site, likely to look for Jinx's body and I assume didn't find her.

Then that ending scene

Why the airship, who's on it? It's probably not Cait and Vi cause they were just in her house. Mel's on her mothers boat. Viktor and Jayce are dead(?). And I doubt Ekko would leave the firelights. So either it's someone we don't know, it's sumbolic of smth, or it's Jinx. I mean her writing shows up on the ending card right after.

Theres also this fucked up lookin Bird poking at the remains of Jayce's hammer, around where he and Viktor got sucked into. We see a hextech blue glow which is interesting and probably setting up something for future shows. Maybe whoever it is was looking for remains, or investigating.

at first I thought 'Oh a crow/raven cause that was symbolic to Jinx in s1', and while it still might be, some others have said it's a league character (which tbh i know nothing abt league so I'll leave that theorizing to them) from Noxus.

Noxus is likely going to be one of the next regions that has a future show setting. The crow guy will probably be involved. A crow also shows up at the start of ep 8 while Mel's leaving the black rose, it also had red eyes so maybe the same.

But I think this means Mel, as the new leader of Noxus (?) will have her story continued in future, despite the rest of Piltover/Zaun's story being concluded.

I think this works quite well cause even though her character arc with her mother was somewhat resolved I feel like she's really only just been introduced as a proper character, now that she's discovered her magic. So I think her plot and the black rose will be continued, cause that didn't feel like it was cleaned up this series and will lead onto future events.

Also following this sequence on Mel and the crow, Cait says 'our story isn't over', so It's not very subtle lol.

[petriwriting]

The Adventure Beyond. - JJ Maybank X Reader

A/N: A mini-series (Sort of) inspired by the Dad!JJ or Family man JJ fics i've been seeing. Also have been using an AI writing assistant to help with some grammar and hopefully to better the flow of my writing. I hope you enjoy. This is for everyone in need of JJ Fluff after season 4.

Summary: An epilogue of JJ's Story. His life is one huge adventure. Told in time-skips and memories.

The Outer Banks was always a place for wild memorable adventures—surfing, treasure hunts, and late-night bonfires with your friends. It was home. But this was a different kind of adventure, one that JJ Maybank never expected, yet found himself excited for in ways he couldn’t quite describe. It was the kind of adventure that lasted a lifetime.

You were sitting on the porch of Poguelandia, staring out at the ocean. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore usually calmed you, but today, your thoughts were far from peaceful. Cleo & Kie had gone to brunch together and Cleo and Pope were with John B enjoying an early morning surf. You were alone, except for JJ who had previously been sleeping on the couch. You hand found your head. You had been feeling nauseous for weeks now, but you brushed it off at first—chalked it up to stress or maybe something you ate. But now, with the test in your hand, the reality was clear.

You were pregnant.

Your heart raced as you thought about the next steps, the future, and how this would change everything. But more than anything, you wondered what JJ would think. He wasn’t exactly the "settling down" type, and you didn’t know how he’d react to the news. You had to tell him, but you didn’t know where to start. After uncovering his true parentage, JJ had been acting strangely whenever you mentioned marriage or family. He was insecure about the topic.

The sound of footsteps on the wooden deck behind pulled you out of your thoughts. You looked up just in time to see JJ’s familiar figure walking toward you, his signature smirk plastered on his face. He was always so carefree, so full of life, but today, there was something different in the way he looked at you.

"Good mornin', Baby-girl." he said softly, his voice full of warmth as he took a seat beside you on the steps. His arm brushed against yours, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

"Hey," you replied, trying to sound casual, but your nerves were obvious. You felt the test in your pocket like it was a weight you couldn’t escape. You had no idea what he would say or how he'd react.

JJ noticed the change in your tone, the way you seemed distant, and his grin faltered just slightly. He placed his hand over yours, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand as he searched your eyes.

"What’s going on?" he asked, his voice softening. "You’ve been acting weird for a few days."

You took a deep breath, the test still weighing heavily in your pocket. This was it. There was no turning back now. It was now or never.

"JJ," you began, your voice shaky. "I need to tell you something. Something big."

JJ turned his body toward you, his gaze intense as he waited for you to continue. The wind picked up slightly, blowing strands of hair into your face. You pushed them behind your ear and swallowed hard.

"It might change everything." you giggle slightly nervously. "Hey, whoa, i'm right here," JJ reassured you.

"I’m… I’m pregnant."

The words felt like they were hanging in the air between you two, heavy with uncertainty. For a moment, JJ said nothing. He just stared at you, his expression unreadable.

"Pregnant?" he finally repeated, his voice low, almost like he was testing the word on his tongue.

"Yeah," you said, nodding slowly. "I just found out. I didn’t know how to—"

Before you could finish, JJ pulled you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you like a lifeline. You froze for a second, stunned by the sudden closeness, but then you melted into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

"Hey, hey, it’s okay," he murmured into your hair. "This is… This is crazy, but we’ll figure it out. We’re in this together."

You looked up at him, surprised by the calmness in his voice. JJ had always been a whirlwind, a guy who lived for the next thrill, but in this moment, he was steady. He was here for you.

"You’re not mad? Or, Or- upset?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper. You had been worried that he’d be overwhelmed, that he’d run like he always did when things got serious.

JJ shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Mad? No. Freaked out? Yeah, a little. But mad? Nah. This is big, but we can do this, Y/N. We’ve always figured things out before, haven’t we?"

Tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded, feeling a weight lift off your chest. JJ may not have been the most conventional guy, but he had a heart bigger than anyone gave him credit for. And he wasn’t going anywhere.

"We’ll be okay," you said, more to yourself than to him.

JJ pulled back just enough to look you in the eye, his face softening. "We will. And hey, I’m not exactly an expert on this whole parenting thing, but I’ll be there. I’ll be there for you and for this little one, no matter what." You stay stiff for a moment, glancing down at your hands and fidgeting for a moment before meeting his eyes again as he continues. "Baby Maybank is going to have the best aunts and uncles in the world, and-" JJ stops himself and his expression sobers up. "I know I want to do better than My dad or Luke ever could."

"JJ-..." Your heart swelled with emotion, and you couldn’t help but smile. "You mean that?"

"Yeah," he said with a confidence you hadn’t expected. "I do."

For the first time in a long while, JJ Maybank was serious. And you realized that even in the face of something that would change everything, you weren’t alone. You had each other. And maybe, just maybe, this would be the greatest adventure yet. It was only the start.

. . . .

It had been roughly 9 months or so since you told JJ about the baby, and while the news had initially thrown him for a loop, it was clear he was more than ready to take on fatherhood. He’d been there for every doctor’s appointment, every late-night craving, and every moment when you needed reassurance. And now, as your due date grew closer, you both found yourselves feeling the weight of what was about to happen.

It was a quiet evening when it started. You were sitting on the couch, your feet propped up, and JJ was next to you, watching some random show on TV. The sound of the waves outside was soothing, and for a moment, everything felt like it was in its right place.

Then, you felt it.

A sharp pain radiated through your lower abdomen, making you wince. You tried to ignore it, but then another one came, stronger this time. You winced in pain and groaned.

"Hey, are you okay?" JJ looked over, noticing the shift in your expression. His eyes narrowed as he sat up straighter. "Y/N?"

"I—" you gasped, clutching the edge of the couch. "I think it’s almost time."

JJ’s eyes went wide with realization. "No way. You’re… You’re sure?"

You nodded, trying to keep your breathing steady. "I’m sure. The contractions… they’re getting closer."

JJ leaped to his feet, looking around like he didn’t know where to start. "Right. Okay. I… I’m gonna go get the car! Wait here. Don’t move, okay?"

You grabbed his arm before he could go running off in a panic. "JJ, slow down. We’ve got time. Call the hospital first."

He took a deep breath, clearly trying to calm himself down. "Okay, okay. I’ve got this. I know what to do. You just breathe, alright?" He reassured. He had read that in a parenting book he had gotten, and he was suddenly trying to recall several books worth of information. He wanted to know exactly what to do to be the best dad he could, better than his own.

You smiled, despite the pain. "I’m not the one freaking out, J."

With his usual energetic (and slightly chaotic) demeanor, JJ grabbed his phone, calling the hospital to let them know you were on your way. Then, he hurried back to you, his face full of determination.

"Alright, baby. We’re going to get you there. Everything’s going to be fine." He kissed the top of your head and grabbed the bag you had packed weeks ago.

The drive to the hospital felt like the longest ride of your life, but JJ stayed calm, keeping up the reassuring chatter, telling you that you were doing great, that this was just the beginning of your new adventure together. The way he held your hand and squeezed it between contractions made you feel grounded, even as everything around you seemed to be moving too fast.

When you finally arrived, the nurses quickly whisked you into a room. JJ stayed right by your side the entire time, despite the chaos of doctors and medical staff running around. He even tried to joke with you between contractions, telling you that you were doing better than he would’ve expected.

"I’d probably be the one freaking out if I had to do this," he said with a grin. "But you? You’re amazing, Y/N."

The hours felt like a blur. The pain was intense, but JJ was right there, holding your hand, whispering words of encouragement, and reminding you that you were almost there. You were in such pain that your head threw back, and the last thing you remember of those seconds before was the ringing in your ear, the bright wash of cool white lights from the ceiling, the sweat on your forehead, and release.

And then, when it seemed like you couldn’t take any more, you finally heard it.

A cry. A tiny, beautiful cry.

You blinked through the tears in your eyes, your heart racing as the nurse placed the baby in your arms. JJ leaned in, his eyes wide with awe as he gazed at the tiny bundle being handed to you, the doctors cleaned the baby's eyes and nose.

"Look," he whispered, his voice cracking. "Our kid."

You looked down at the little one in your arms, the feeling of love and joy washing over you in a way you never thought possible. The baby’s small fingers curled around yours, and you felt a rush of emotions you couldn’t put into words.

JJ’s hand rested on your shoulder, his gaze never leaving the baby. "We did it," he whispered, the disbelief in his voice turning to wonder.

"Yeah, we did," you said softly, smiling as you looked up at him. "And I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else." he whispered.

JJ’s face softened, his usual carefree attitude replaced with a tenderness you’d never seen before. "You and me," he said quietly, as if making a promise. "We’ve got this. Together."

JJ reaches to hold his baby, and once she is in his arms, it becomes real. The baby let out another soft cry, and JJ, in his own awkward yet adorable way, gently rubbed the baby’s little back. "Hi Baby girl, It's your daddy..." he coos. "I love you so much already kiddo," he murmured, eyes glistening. "You’ve got the best parents in the world. and uh, No pressure, but you better be ready for the best adventures."

. . . .

A year had passed since you and JJ had welcomed your little one into the world. Life had changed in ways you never could’ve imagined. Parenthood had its challenges— sleepless nights, endless diapers, and adjusting to a new routine. But through it all, you and JJ had grown stronger, learning how to navigate this new chapter of life together.

One night, after the baby had finally fallen asleep in their crib, you and JJ found yourselves sitting on the porch again, just like you had when you first told him you were pregnant. The sky was painted with the colors of the setting sun orangey, peachy, faded into a deep sea color, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore adding a peaceful hum to the evening. The cicads just starting their song and the breeze settling in your hair.

"You know, I've been thinking," JJ said, his voice unusually quiet.

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "About what?"

He was staring at the horizon, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Us. Everything we’ve been through. The baby, our little family. And how much I love you. I don’t want to just talk about it forever, you know?"

You smiled, a warmth spreading through you. You had no idea where he was going with this, but you could feel your heart racing anyway.

"I love you too, JJ," you said, your voice soft. "I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life."

JJ took a deep breath, his usual cocky smirk fading into something much more serious. He turned to you, his eyes filled with that intensity you loved. "Then I want to make it official. I want you to be mine, always. I want to be your husband."

You blinked, your breath catching in your throat. Did he just say what you thought he said?

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, opening it to reveal a simple, yet stunning ring. "Y/N, will you marry me?"

Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt a rush of emotions flood over you. JJ Maybank, the carefree, wild guy who never seemed to settle down, was asking you to marry him. There had been so many moments in the past when you doubted if he could ever truly commit to something like this. But here he was, asking you to be his forever.

You examined the ring, it was in a shiny velvet dark red box that was worn. The initials in a faded gold cursive 'LG'. It was something of his mothers'.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out for the ring, holding it in your hand. "Yes. Of course, yes," you whispered, your voice trembling with happiness.

JJ grinned, looking both relieved and ecstatic at the same time. He slid the ring onto your finger, and for a moment, it felt like time stood still. You leaned in, kissing him gently as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close.

"I promise, I’m going to love you every single day," he murmured against your lips.

. . . .

The weeks leading up to the wedding were a whirlwind of excitement. You and JJ had agreed on something small and intimate—just the two of you, the baby, and a few close friends. The thought of having a big, extravagant wedding didn’t feel right; it was about the two of you, your family, and this new life you were building together.

When the day finally arrived, you stood on the beach where you and JJ had shared so many of your first moments, the waves crashing gently behind you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you gazed out at the horizon, feeling the same nervous excitement you had felt when you were first pregnant, unsure of what the future held but knowing you were ready to face it together.

JJ stood at the end of the makeshift aisle, dressed in a simple yet handsome suit. His eyes never left you as you walked toward him, a grin spreading across his face. The moment you reached him, he took your hands in his, the same hands that had held yours through every high and low.

"You look perfect," he said, his voice full of awe.

"You clean up pretty well yourself," you teased, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill.

The officiant, a close friend of yours both, non other than John Booker Routledge, smiled at the two of you. "We’re gathered here today to celebrate the love and commitment between these two people…"

But you hardly heard the rest of the ceremony. All that mattered in that moment was JJ—the way his hand gently squeezed yours, the way his eyes softened when he looked at you. The sea breeze, the smell of marsh and the glow of the sunset. You could feel the promise in the air, the certainty that this was where you were always meant to be.

When the officiant pronounced you both husband and wife, JJ didn’t hesitate. He pulled you into his arms, kissing you deeply, his heart and soul laid bare in that simple moment. The world around you faded away as you held each other, knowing that no matter what life threw at you, you were ready to face it together.

As you walked back down the aisle, hand in hand with your new husband, you couldn’t help but feel the overwhelming joy.

. . . .

It was a perfect summer day in the Outer Banks. The sun was high in the sky, casting its golden glow over the beach, and the ocean was calm, its waves gently lapping at the shore. You and JJ had taken your little one out for the day, and while you were content to lounge on the sand and soak up the sun, JJ had something else on his mind.

"Daddy!" Your daughter’s voice rang out, high-pitched with excitement as she splashed around near the water’s edge. "I want to go further! I want to swim like you!"

JJ grinned from ear to ear, watching his daughter run toward him with her tiny swimsuit bouncing as she ran. "You sure you're ready?" he asked, crouching down to her level.

"Yeah!" she exclaimed, her face full of determination and a little mischief, just like her father. "I want to be like you, Daddy! I want to swim in the big waves!"

JJ chuckled, running a hand through his tousled hair. "Alright, cupcake," he said with a wink. "Let’s start with the basics. You trust me?"

She nodded, her blue eyes wide with trust, mirroring his. It was clear that she adored her dad, and JJ, always the carefree and energetic guy, was more than happy to pass on his love of the water to his daughter.

"Okay, here’s the plan," JJ said, scooping her up and carrying her toward the water. "We’re gonna take it slow. First, we’ll just get your feet wet, then we’ll move on from there. Don’t worry, I’ve got you."

You smiled as you watched the two of them interact. You knew how much JJ had grown since becoming a father. The wild, unpredictable guy who once couldn’t sit still for more than a few minutes was now patiently teaching his daughter something as important as swimming, all while making her laugh, and cracking jokes to entertain both of you.

As JJ waded into the shallow water, holding his daughter carefully, he turned to her and said, "Okay, listen. The first thing you need to remember is to keep your head above the water. No matter what, keep your eyes on me, alright? I’ll be right here."

She nodded eagerly, gripping onto his neck as he gently waded deeper into the ocean, letting the water rise up to their waists. She giggled as the cool waves splashed over her legs. She was scared, but like her father she wouldn't admit it. That Maybank firceness.

"This is fun," she squealed, her voice high with excitement.

JJ smiled at her, his usual confident smirk turning softer. "I’m glad you think so. Now, ready for the next step?"

You could see his nerves underneath the surface, but he was determined to make this moment count. You knew he was a natural when it came to making people feel safe—especially his daughter—and you could see the bond between them growing with every moment.

"Okay, we’re gonna practice kicking," JJ explained. "You want to kick your legs like this," he demonstrated, giving her legs a gentle nudge to show her the motion. "Big, strong kicks, just like a dolphin."

His daughter laughed and kicked her legs, splashing water everywhere as she mimicked him. "Like this, Daddy?" she asked excitedly.

"Exactly like that!" JJ exclaimed. "You’re a natural, kiddo."

You watched as he continued to guide her through the motions, his voice calm and reassuring. "Good job. Now, let’s try floating on your back, alright?" he said, holding her securely in the water. "You’ve got to trust the water, trust that it’s going to hold you up."

She hesitated for a second, her tiny hands gripping his shoulders tightly. "But what if I fall, Daddy?" she asked, her voice small but brave.

JJ's face softened with understanding. He looked her in the eye, his hand gently smoothing back her wet hair. "You won’t fall. I’ve got you. I won’t let you go. You’re safe with me, okay?"

She looked up at him, her trust unwavering. "Okay, Daddy."

And just like that, she let go of her fears, leaning back into the water with JJ’s arms supporting her, guiding her to float. You could see the relief in her face as she finally relaxed, her tiny body gently bobbing in the water.

"There you go," JJ said, his voice full of pride. "You’re swimming, just like I knew you could. That's my girl."

. . . .

It was a warm Saturday afternoon when JJ came home from work, pushing through the front door. The moment he stepped inside, he noticed the scent of freshly baked cookies drifting through the house. But that wasn’t what caught his attention. No, it was the sound of his daughter’s giggles from upstairs—her voice light, teasing, and clearly way too excited about something.

He had taken a job that paid the bills, kept his family safe and fed. taken care of, even if he didn't really like it. an office job was boring, but he got to give his expertise on treasure hunting, and he worked with a lot of fun young archaeologists.

"Hey, kiddo, what’s going on?" JJ called out as he kicked off his shoes and made his way to the staircase.

Your daughter appeared at the top of the stairs, looking unusually... polished. Her hair was done in cute little braids, and she was wearing a floral dress you must’ve helped her pick out. JJ’s eyes narrowed as he gazed up at her.

"Dad!" she grinned down at him, clearly excited. "I’m going on my first date!"

JJ froze. He blinked, taking a moment for his brain to process what she just said. "Wait, what?" His voice was barely above a whisper, but the edge of disbelief was undeniable.

"Yep!" She bounced down the stairs, twirling around in her dress as if she were some grown-up at a fancy dinner. "His name’s Tyler. He’s from my history class, and he’s super nice."

JJ’s eyes widened, and he crossed his arms. "Hold up. Tyler? You’re going out with a guy named Tyler?" He shot a look at you, who was standing in the kitchen, trying (and failing) to hide a smile at JJ’s growing concern.

You stifled a laugh, seeing the protective father in action. "JJ, she’s just going on a date. Let her have fun."

JJ didn’t seem to hear you. Instead, his gaze stayed locked on his daughter. "How old is this Tyler?"

"He’s 17, Dad. Just a year older than me!" She said the last part like it was supposed to reassure him. But to JJ, that was exactly the problem. He had been that age once too. he could remember when he was all over you.

"Seventeen?" JJ muttered, his tone a mix of disbelief and concern. He wasn’t angry, but he was definitely... apprehensive. "I don’t care if he’s 25, you’re my little girl, Cupcake, and I—" He paused, trying to find the right words. "Are you sure about this?"

His daughter rolled her eyes, but there was a fondness behind her teasing. "Dad, I’m fine! He’s a good guy. You can trust me."

JJ stood up straight, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. "Trust you? Of course, I trust you. But him?" He rubbed a hand through his hair, pacing for a second. "You’re my baby girl. What if he does something... something dumb?"

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of JJ—usually so calm and laid-back, now pacing like a lion in a cage. "JJ, she’s 16, not 5. She knows what she’s doing."

Your daughter crossed her arms, giving her dad a look that could only be described as an eye-roll combined with affection. "It’s not like I’m going to be out past midnight." she was just as sassy as he was.

You smiled softly, walking over to JJ and placing a hand on his arm to stop his pacing. "She’s going to be fine, love. It’s just a date, not a life-altering event. And you’ve raised her well—she knows what to look out for."

But JJ wasn’t entirely convinced. He turned to his daughter, his expression softening, though there was still a protective edge to his voice. "I want you to be safe. Text me when you get there, and when you leave, alright? And no funny business—no getting into cars with anyone, especially some dude named Tyler. Got it?"

His daughter snorted, clearly amused by his protectiveness, but she nodded. "Fine, fine, Dad. I’ll text you constantly so you can feel better."

"And no sneaking away or doing something crazy. You aren't some grown-up," JJ continued, his tone light, but there was no mistaking the worry behind his words.

"Got it," she said, shaking her head with a smile that screamed, “I love you, but you’re impossible.” JJ exhaled sharply, running his hand through his hair again. "And if you need me to come pick you up, for any reason, you call me. No questions asked."

"Dad, I’ll be fine," she reassured him again, now with an extra layer of affection in her voice. "Tyler’s cool, I swear." JJ’s face softened, his voice quieter. "I just... I just want to make sure you’re safe. That’s all. You’re my girl, and I love you more than anything."

You could see the softness in JJ’s expression, the deep affection for his daughter that made his words sound so heartfelt.

"Love you too, Dad," she said, hugging him tightly. "And I’m gonna be okay. Promise."

JJ hesitated for a second before hugging her back, lifting her up for a moment like she was still his little baby, even though she wasn’t. "Alright, alright. But if anything feels wrong, you come straight home, understood?"

"Understood," she replied with a smirk. "Can I go now?"

"One last thing." He ushers her to step forward, she shares his golden curls and has a few pieces astray that JJ pushes behind her ear in a loving way. "I just wanted to say that you look beautiful hun." JJ let her go, still looking a little too serious for your liking, but clearly trusting her judgment, even if he didn’t quite trust Tyler.

"Okay, but one last-last, thing," JJ added, running his hand through his hair again. "If he makes you uncomfortable at all, or if he’s not respectful—"

"Dad!" Your daughter groaned, cutting him off with a laugh. You chuckled as you watched JJ try to hold it together, clearly still struggling with the idea of his little girl dating. "Have fun, sweetie," you said, trying to ease the tension. "You’re going to be fine. Just be careful and enjoy yourself."

JJ watched her leave, his arms still crossed, eyes scanning the door long after she was gone. You could see the wheels turning in his head, but you knew it would take him a little while to relax completely.

As soon as the door closed behind her, JJ sighed deeply and flopped down onto the couch, running a hand over his face. "I swear, I’m going to need a drink after this."

You sat down beside him, wrapping your arm around his shoulder. "She’s growing up, JJ. But she’s strong, and she’s smart. She’s going to be okay."

JJ let out a long breath, resting his head back. "Yeah, I know. Just... give me a minute to breathe, okay?"

You laughed softly, kissing his cheek. "Of course. I’ll be right here. Don’t worry."

. . . .

It was a Saturday evening when JJ’s phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. He was at home with you, the two of you enjoying a rare quiet moment after a busy week. Your daughter had gone out earlier in the day, saying she was meeting some friends at the park for a “social event.” She’d been passionate about certain causes recently, always talking about how she wanted to make a difference. You and JJ had talked about it, of course—your daughter was growing into a young woman with strong ideals. Still, the way she talked about it all made you both a little nervous, especially when you didn’t always know exactly what she was getting into.

She was just as mischieveious as her father was at that age, but less reckless. The Protesting was something she had been talking to her Aunt Kie Kie about recently. she was passionate, firey and full of life.

JJ was just pouring a glass of orange juice when the ringing sound cut through the silence again, followed by the unmistakable sound of an incoming call. He glanced at the screen, his brows furrowing when he saw the caller ID.

"It's the police," JJ muttered, a sinking feeling in his stomach. "Y/N, ...something's wrong." You stood up immediately, your heart leaping into your throat as JJ answered the call, his voice tense. His free hand ran through his hair, clearly trying to maintain his cool. "What’s going on?" You held your breath as JJ’s face changed from concerned to something darker, more protective, as he listened to the person on the other end. Finally, after a long pause, he hung up, his face pale.

"JJ?" you asked, worry flooding your voice. He turned to you, his eyes wide. "It’s our daughter... She’s been arrested." Your heart dropped. "What? What happened?"

"They—she was protesting at a rally downtown," JJ explained, his voice shaking with barely contained anger. "It turned into a bigger protest, and things got out of hand. They arrested her for—" He stopped, shaking his head. "For disorderly conduct. Y/N, she’s in jail." Your daughter? Arrested? A thousand thoughts raced through your head. Your daughter, your sweet girl, had always been so passionate about causes she cared about, but you never imagined she’d get caught up in something like this. Your protective instincts kicked in, just as JJ’s had, but the question was: How did we get here?

Without another word, JJ grabbed his jacket and car keys. "Let’s go. We need to get her out of there." You nodded quickly, grabbing your purse and following him out the door. As you drove toward the police station, neither of you spoke much. There was nothing you could say to calm the growing sense of dread.

When you arrived, JJ wasted no time. He stormed inside with you following closely behind, his steps heavy with determination. The receptionist at the desk looked up with a weary expression as JJ slammed his palms onto the counter. "I’m here to get my daughter out. She’s been arrested. What do I need to do?" JJ demanded, his voice low but full of authority. The receptionist blinked but quickly typed something into the computer.

"Name?" she asked, clearly used to dealing with situations like this. "Maybank," JJ said, his voice not softening in the slightest.

After a brief exchange, the receptionist handed over some paperwork for JJ to fill out. The moment he finished, you both sat in a cramped waiting area, the silence between you only interrupted by the occasional footsteps echoing down the hall. JJ was vibrating with tension, his fingers tapping impatiently on his knee, his jaw clenched as he stared at the door leading to the holding cells.

"She’s gonna be okay, alright?" You asked quietly, even though you weren’t sure you believed the words yourself. JJ let out a breath, trying to calm himself. "I don’t know. I just… I never thought she’d be in a situation like this." He shook his head, frustration and fear clear in his eyes. "She was always so careful. Always so smart."

You could see his mind running through a dozen worst-case scenarios. He was terrified, and it broke your heart. You knew how fiercely protective he was of their daughter, how much he loved her.

"She’s strong, JJ," you said gently. "She’s been through tough things before. She’s a fighter. and she's just like you in that regard. She’ll be okay." Just as the words left your mouth, the door to the holding area opened, and a police officer appeared, followed by your daughter.

When JJ’s eyes locked on her, his breath hitched, and he shot up from his seat, rushing toward her. "Sweetheart," he said, his voice breaking, as he reached out to hold her. She looked tired, but she was alive and, more importantly, unharmed.

"Dad, I’m okay," she said softly, her eyes brimming with tears. "I didn’t mean for things to escalate like that. I just—"

JJ pulled her into a tight hug, his voice rough. "I don’t care what happened, baby girl. I’m just glad you’re okay. Don’t ever scare me like that again." You joined them, wrapping your arms around both of them. You could feel your daughter’s shoulders trembling, and you squeezed her tighter, knowing that she probably needed reassurance as much as JJ did.

"I'm so sorry, Mom, Dad," she whispered, her voice full of guilt. "I didn’t think it would go this far. It was supposed to be peaceful. I swear, I didn’t mean to get arrested."

JJ pulled back, his hands still on her shoulders as he looked at her. "I know you didn’t mean for this to happen, but you’ve got to be careful. You’re my little girl, and I don’t want you getting involved in something dangerous. You could’ve gotten hurt."

Your daughter nodded, tears slipping down her face. "I just wanted to make a difference. I thought this was the right thing to do. But… I don’t know anymore." You wiped away a tear from her cheek, your heart aching for her. "You are making a difference. But we need to make sure you’re safe while you do it, alright?"

JJ nodded, his voice much softer now, but still full of that protective fatherly instinct. "We’ll figure this out together, okay? But for now, we’re getting out of here. And next time—" He shook his head, unable to continue. He pulled her into another tight hug. "Next time, you text us first. No more surprises, okay?"

She nodded, her arms squeezing him tightly. "I promise, Dad." As you all walked out of the police station, JJ’s arm wrapped protectively around his daughter’s shoulders, the weight of the world still lingering on his shoulders. He hadn’t expected this moment to come so soon, but you knew that no matter what, he would always protect his daughter—just as fiercely as he loved her. Even if she reminded him of himself.

. . . .

You both sat on the porch once again, this time many many years in the future, graying and old. The cicadas still singing the same, the waves still lapping in the same old rhythm. The mosquitos out in full swing and the breeze tangling your silver hair. The moonlight is brisk.

You turn to the love of your life, the man who has been your everything since you were young once. You cut through the comfortable and loving silence finally. "JJ," you whisper. "Yes love?" His voice is now deeper, aged. It's raspy. "As our adventure comes to an end," you say. "I just want you to know that I love you." you say softly.

"I love you too." JJ says, "I wouldn't have wanted to have this life with anyone else. You are my everything." He smiles. You look out into the yard and remember all the highlights, highs lows and all, every moment up until now.

You gently rest your grayed head on his shoulder, the same as you did when you were young, and close your eyes.