#let me guys know what you think about this

[smutoperator]

Brotherly Love

Kim Minji, Kang Haerin x Male Reader

Kinkvember Chapter 6

Part 1 of 4 of All In Family

Main kinks: incest, gaping, ass eating

Word count: 4471.

Minji always had the utmost respect for her older brother. However, over the past few months, she started having some feelings for him that she just couldn't shake off.

Minji and her bickering friend Haerin love to masturbate together, sharing their fantasies with each other as they competed to see which one would orgasm the fastest, but one day, Minji just blew her best friend out of the water.

"Damn, Minji, you came so quickly today; why are you so horny?" Haerin asked. "Well, it's my brother; it feels like I can't wait to fuck him," she replied. "What the fuck, Minji, do you want to have sex with your brother? That's too far. Why can't you find another guy?" Haerin asks. "Well, I want him, only him," Minji answered. "And I want you to share him with me as well," she continued.

"Really? Damn Minji, you're just a naughty girl," Haerin answered, but her orgasm following up those words told Minji more than anything. She wanted her brother too. "Well, tomorrow I'm going to his house; you want to come with me?" Minji asked. "I guess I can do that," Haerin answered.

Minji and Haerin arrived at your house, where you kindly prepared some breakfast for them. "He is fucking hot," Minji whispered in Haerin's ear as you kept working on the kitchen. Haerin just nodded positively. "I wonder if he has a big dick," Minji then followed, closing her eyes and smiling as she couldn't hold her excitement.

"Here's some nice omelet, little sister," you said to Minji, serving her the food. "Thank you," she kindly answered and kept staring at you. Just like Minji heavily respected you, you also treated her very well, extremely proud that your younger sister had become one of the most popular idols in the country and always being there to offer her a helping hand like today. 

"Thank you," Haerin also answered when you served her. "I'll be in the living room; see you later, little sister. You too, Haerin," you said. "Bye," Harin answered, quickly finding out why Minji liked you so much beyond just the typical brotherly love. Now she just needed to know what Minji was also dying to know: if you had a big dick or not.

"I'm so horny right now; I think we should make a move," Minji said to Haerin. "Ok," her younger friend answered, blushing. Minji had some second thoughts but she was really turned on by the idea of having sex with her brother, so she discussed a plan with Haerin.

"I'll go first; you then come and surprise him," Minji said. She was indeed a little selfish and wanted to taste your cock before anyone else, but she also felt more enjoyable doing a threesome with her brother than having sex with him all by herself. The two discussed this rather simple plan in the kitchen as they looked at you in the living room, before Minji finally went for it.

"Hey," you said as Minji approached you on the couch, already spreading her legs to show off her new denim shorts that barely covered her ass. "What are you doing, brother?" she asked. "Just reading a book," you answered. "What about you?" you then asked. "Nothing really," Minji said. "Also, you can read it later," she said, pushing the book to the side.

"What are you doing?" you asked. "Come on, I see the way you look at me," Minji says. "Let's do some forbidden things," Minji says, rubbing your belly with your shirt still on. "Come on," you resist her moves.

But Minji is relentless. "I know you want me to suck your cock," she says, rubbing her hands on your crotch now. "You're already hard for me," she notices. "I'm not the only one horny for you, brother; I saw the way you stared at me and Haerin at the kitchen," she said, catching you by surprise.

"Please, stop it," you tell Minji to back off, but she is way too deep into her fantasy at this point. "Let me take that cock in your mouth and give you a good blowjob; show you I'm a good little sister to my big brother," she answers. 

"Okay," you answer as Minji kisses you and touches your crotch area. "Can I please your cock, big brother?" Minji asks. "Yes," you answer, caving to your little sister's desires. "I've been dreaming about it," Minji says. "Really?" you ask her, surprised. "Yes, literally," Minji says, thinking about those nights where she masturbated to the thought of having sex with you.

"Alright, if it's your dream, fine. I will always do what my little sister wants," you say to her, unzipping your pants and showing your giant anaconda to Minji. "Oh my God, can I touch it?" she asks. "Yes," you say. Minji starts rubbing and stroking it. "Does it feel good when I jack your big cock off?' she keeps asking. "Yes," you answer, impressed by your little sister's cock handling skills.

"You want me to put it in my mouth, don't you?" Minji asks, giving you a sexy stare as she increases the pace of stroking it. "Sure, I want to feel your warm mouth; do it," you tell her as you unbutton your shirt as well.

Minji slowly descends down, kissing you from top to bottom, starting all the way up in your mouth, going through your torso, and finishing at the tip of your cock, sending shivers down your spine when she does it. She gives your shaft a pair of licks before just putting the tip in her mouth. "Ahhhh," you groan as Minji firmly grabs that pole and sucks it masterfully.

"Oh my God, that feels so wrong, but you suck my cock so well; your mouth is so nasty and sloppy," you say to Minji, who remains concentrated on sucking it off and gently jerking that shaft. "Wow, ahhh, shit," you say as Minji massages your balls and keeps blowing your cock off while your head rests on the couch, trying to cope with the heat she puts on your dick.

"My best friend is so horny." Haerin comes in and sits beside you on the couch as Minji keeps sucking that big cock. "What's going on here?" you ask. "Don't you think I should join you guys?" Haerin asks. "It certainly looks fun," she says. "That's such a crazy day," you say. "Well, it's just starting," Haerin says, kissing you.

Haerin and you share kisses as Minji keeps sucking your cock. "I love watching my best friend suck your cock," Haerin says, pulling the new jeans she was wearing down and starting masturbating herself to the scene. Indeed, she always thought of Minji's fantasies with her brother, but seeing it in real life was much hotter than what she was expecting.

"Does your sister do a good job sucking your cock?" Haerin asks as she masturbates in front of you. "Sure," you answer her, looking at her teen pussy as she already pulls her panties down. "Do you want me to suck it too?" Haerin than answers as Minji moves deeper and makes you groan. "You want to suck my cock too?" you ask, shocked. "Yes, of course," Haerin answers. "It's just too good and too big for Minji to have it all to herself," she continues.

"Can I suck your cock?' Haerin politely asks. "Yes," you answer as Minji pulls her mouth out of it and strokes it for her best friend. Haerin dives to take your cock in her mouth, bobbing her head really fast as Minji keeps stroking it. "Oh yeah, hmmmm," she says as both girls take turns diving on it.

"You wanna see who can take it the deepest?" Minji challenges Haerin. "Sure," she answers. "You first," Minji then says. Haerin only takes half your length in her mouth, but the warmth of it drives you crazy. Minji pushes it further, taking around two-thirds of it in her horny mouth. Haerin tries to match but clearly struggles, gagging after just a couple seconds and coating your tip full of her spit.

Minji easily wins the deepthroating competition, taking the full length of your cock in her mouth in the third try. "I was just toying with you; I could have done it from the start," she says to Haerin as she takes the tip of your shaft while Haerin licks it from the side. They switch spots, with Haerin still struggling to get your cock all the way down her mouth. "Come on," Minji says as a string of her spit comes out of your balls and she licks your shaft sideways like a maniac.

Haerin accepts the challenge, finally getting all the way down your shaft. "Perfect," Minji says. "Now you proved to me you can take it in your pussy and ass," Minji continues. "You're such a dirty girl," Haerin says as she watches Minji use her mouth like a vacuum cleaner sucking your dick and then share kisses with her best friend as they taste your cock from their mouths.

"Ahhhhh," you groan as Haerin finally seems comfortable now deepthroating your cock. Her warm, young mouth is such a good fit for your shaft. Minji smiles as they engage themselves in a sloppy head-bobbing and deepthroating competition that drives you on the edge. "Oh my god," you groan each time they reach the base of your shaft.

"I can't believe I'm sucking my brother's cock," Minji says. Both girls smile as they taste it, but you want to push it further. "Let me fuck your mouths next," you tell them, getting up from the couch and stripping yourself naked, whole. Minji takes her jeans off and puts her big ass facing upwards as both she and Haerin get on all fours to get facefucked.

You start with Haerin's young, warm mouth, pounding her face hard as it turns red, and she tightens her mouth on your shaft, quickly gagging. Minji comes next, barely flinching as you fuck her throat and even answering with some head-bobbing. "Open it, please," you say as you switch back to Haerin and give her a second go, grabbing her hair as she clearly struggles with your massive shaft ripping her mouth apart like a sword.

You take turns switching your cock between their mouths, Minji clearly getting the best of it as you manage to push it deeper in hers, your little sister bobbing her head without even needing to use her hands. Once you finish it, both girls then lick the tip of your anaconda like hungry snakes.

"Come here, little sister, give me your pussy," you command to Minji, who spreads her legs as you start licking her pussy and asshole and then giving some kisses that make her moan. Haerin just watches. You spread her big asscheeks and keep tonguing her fuckholes. "Oh yeah," Minji moans. "Spread your ass," you tell Minji, tonguing deeper into it. "It feels so good when you put your tongue in my ass," she moans, fingering herself as you then move up to her cunt.

Haerin kisses her best friend as you savor Minji's clit and anus and enjoy your sister moaning with her legs fully spread. It doesn't take long for you to start rubbing your shaft against her entrance, slowly penetrating Minji's pussy and catching her by surprise. "Oh yes," she says, feeling your cock get inside her. "Oh my God, brother, that dick is so big it can barely fit in my pussy," Minji says, smiling at you.

"Fuck, oh, ah," Minji moans as you slowly thrust inside her pussy. Haerin keeps kissing her as you keep your sister's legs spread out, placing your thumb right in her clit as you pick up the pace and grabbing her little waist, enjoying her moans as you get deeper into her tight pussy. "Hmmmm, hmmmm, hmmmm, hmmmm, oh yeah," Minji moans as you quickly fuck her quite fast, enjoying her young wet pussy a lot, putting your thumb in her mouth to muffle her moans in a futile effort, with Minji quickly turning into a moaning mess as you thrust hard and your balls clap against her soft skin.

You feed your cock for Haerin to taste, pushing her head against your shaft for her to savor your sister's tasty pussy. "Spit on it," you tell Haerin as she offers the extra lube you need to go back inside Minji's tight pussy. All your sister can do is moan like a slut, especially when Haerin fingers her clit while you keep fucking Minji, really regretting taking so long to get inside her amazing, wet, and tight cunt, even though you knew for a long while your little sister was a special kind of girl.

"OH FUCK!" Minji screams as you move upwards and start kissing her, switching from your standard missionary fucking position into a more powerful mating press that makes her big ass hit hard against the couch. Haerin lies Minji's face on her lap as she whispers dirty words about your sister to you while enjoying your passionate kisses and Minji reaching her moaning tongue to lick her perky young tits. You keep attacking Minji's pussy relentlessly, her body getting completely pressed against the couth until you bring it up and carry-fuck your little sister under Haerin's watch. "OH YEAH!" Minji screams as she gets pounded hard.

"Suck it," you tell Haerin as you carry your sister and pull out of Minji, feeding her young friend with your big shaft. Minji stays moaning as you get her back on her feet and bring Haerin to take her turn, rubbing your cock against her entrance before going in, fucking her the same way you did Minji. "You like fucking that pink young pusssy, Daddy?" she asks. "Yes," you say, groaning that her young hole is even tighter than your sister's.

"FUCK, OH GOD!" Haerin screams as Minji's hands join your cock in pleasing her pussy. You grab her legs and push your cock deeper into her cunt, making her pray even further for God. You then tease Haerin, going in and out of her pussy while Minji kisses her, groaning a lot as you can feel how tight she is, more so when Minji fingers her clit and makes Haerin's walls clench specially hard.

You avoid a close call by pulling out of Haerin, only for Minji to come right in to taste your cock from her friend's pussy. "You two are nasty girls," you tell them. "But you love doing that, Daddy? Fucking your little baby and little sister like that, right?" Haerin asks. "Yeah," you answer, getting back inside her for some extra fun. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," she moans as you fuck her hard and kiss your sister like you were her boyfriend.

But Minji wants more. "Come put your cock in my ass, please," she tells you, giving you a naughty stare. "Your cock is so huge, big brother, I wonder if it can get all the way inside my tiny little asshole. Please, stick it in my ass," Minji says as Haerin mores aside.

"I can't believe I'm doing this, fucking my own sister in the ass," you say as you push just the tip in Minji's butthole but struggle against her tightness. "Wow," you say as Minji's anal walls leave hardly any space for your large cock. "Oh my God, your cock is huge in my ass, fuck yeah, you're really stretching me open," an excited Minji says as you slowly but surely get deeper inside it.

You and Haerin pinch Minji's nipples. "Wow, they are getting so hard," she says. "Spread that fat ass for me, little sister," you tell Minji, who obliges as you now also pinch her clit. Your cock is only halfway up her ass, and she already moans softly. "HMMMM, HMMMM, HMMMMM," she says as you kiss Haerin and then dive to lick your sister's tits. More push and you get deeper, massaging her pussy and spreading her lips open as you also spread her butthole open. 

You get more aggressive, moving onto hard thrusts up Minji's ass while increasing the pace you finger her clit. You love the way Minji's throbbing clit pulsates while you fuck her ass, especially with your hands all over it. You get completely on top of your little sister, pushing deeper into her tight anal cavity, making her moan and scream loud. "OH FUCK YEAH," Minji says, before offering an indecent proposal to her best friend.

"Now you have to try his cock in your ass," Minji says to Haerin. The youngster obliges as she spreads her legs for her turn next. Once again, just getting the tip in is a struggle; these girls have really tight anuses. But you push hard and manage to get in. "Oooh yeah," Haerin moans as soon as your cock pushes deeper in her butt.

"Oh my God, this cock looks so good in your ass," Minji tells her best friend. All Haerin can do is close her eyes as you take it very slow with her, as she is so sensible in there that just your tip inside makes her quickly react. You ease Haerin up, getting your cock in and out of her ass repeatedly. "Oh my God, I don't know if I can take it," Haerin claims. "Well, let's see," you tell her.

"That looks so hot," Minji says as you keep pushing against Haerin's butt and lick her feet. "OUCH," the young girl says, trying to cope with the pain in her tiny ass. She gasps from time to time and prays to God as things go fairly slowly. Minji just watches as Haerin finally gets more than half of your cock inside her. You finally get deeper but still go nice on her, trying to not break your sister's best friend. "FUCKKKK," Haerin screams from time to time as you use Minji's mouth to lube your cock while Haerin spreads her ass for some gape.

"I think you should teach her," you say to Minji, who turns around and gets herself on all fours, flaunting her biggest ass to you as you get on top of your sister, and she kisses Haerin. "Look at that ass, perfect to get stuffed," you say as your cock slides back inside Minji's butthole. Minji closes her eyes and moans really loud. "HMMMMM, AHHHHH, AHHHHHH, AHHHH," she says. "You like watching my little sister getting fucked in the ass?" you ask Haerin. "Of course," she answers.

"Oh yeah, yeah, yeah, ummmmm, oh my God," Minji keeps moaning as you grab her waist and pound her ass from behind. "You like getting fucked like that in the ass, slutty little sister?" you ask her. "Defiinitely, ahhhh fuck, oh God, yeah," Minji answers, her asshole now getting gaped really hard, which she notices. "My ass gapes so much; look how good this big cock is stretching it out," she says as you grab her butt and spread her cheeks even further.

Minji stays on all fours, getting her ass stuffed hard. You go faster and faster, determined to take your cock into the depths of your little sister's anus. "Oh yeah, keep going, brother, hmmmm," Minji says as you thrust hard inside her butt before pushing out to show off the massive gape in her anus. "I want you to make my gape really big," Minji demands as the anal pounding session keeps going for a while. "Do you feel it stretching your ass out? Do you like that?" you ask Minji. "Yes, brother," she answers as a massive gape pops out of her anus.

"I want it back in my ass, daddy," Haerin says as soon as you take your cock off of Minji's tight butthole. Haerin replaces her as you kiss your sister. "Such a good girl," you say to Minji as your cock slowly makes its way back inside Haerin's butt. "You like to watch your best friend being fucked in the ass by your brother?" you ask Minji. "Hell yes, its so fucking hot," she answers.

You bury your cock deep in Haerin's asshole, her butt getting quickly romped as you fuck her in the same position you did Minji. The young girl closes her eyes and feels very relaxed. Minji licks Haerin's ears as you attack her ass harder and deeper, showing Minji how deep your cock is getting inside of her best friend. "So good," you say as Haerin moans and screams.

A massive gape comes off Haerin's butthole after a few minutes, much larger than the one from Minji, who chimes in to lick her friend's gaping butthole as soon as she gets a chance before going back up to bob her head a bit on your cock. "Oh my God," you groan as Minji catches you off-guard and sucks your cock like a maniac to enjoy the flavor or Haerin's butthole.

Minji guides your cock back into her best friend's ass, enjoying what she's been watching. You push very deep into Haerin's butt, but assuring the young girl you won't break her in half, just ensure she'll learn how to get fucked good in her ass. "OH MY GOD," she moans as her legs tremble and your thrysts get more and more powerful. Minji just watches, chiming in to suck your cock and lick Haerin's butthole in every opportunity given to her and then spreading Haerin's butt.

Haerin's struggle as the large girth of your cock does quite a wreckage in her asshole. She's very much a novice when it comes to anal sex, so now she just closes her eyes and hides the pain of every deep thrust you give inside her tiny little ass. "Nice girl," you praise her, as you notice she can barely stay on her knees but still keeps thrusting hard like a madman into her little used tight teen anus while sharing kisses with your little sister.

"OH GOD, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!" Haerin screams as she gets her ass pounded hard and deep. You sense you pushed her to the limit, handling Minji the duty of licking the wounds of her friend's gaped anus, which she does to perfection and gets your big cock as a reward. "I want you in my ass for one last time," Minji says. "But not before you two suck my cock," you reply as you lay down.

Minji and Haerin share the eagerness to lick your shaft, your sister taking the initiative. "I can't believe we're having such hot sex with my brother," Minji tells Haerin as both take turns bobbing their heads on your pole, Minji especially choking hard on it as she gets quite wet to sit on it while you and Haerin tongue-kiss.

"Jump on that cock," you order to Minji, who spreads her ass to take it back inside and starts riding it like a maniac. "Ahhh, ahhhh, ahhhh, oh yeah," she moans. "Oh my God," you groan as her asshole squeezes your shaft to the fullest. "I can't believe it's so fucking good, little sister," you say to her as she twerks on your cock perfectly, you spreading her big ass as Minji kisses Haerin while bouncing on your cock.

"Oh fuck, yeah," Minji moans as you push her body closer to yours, wrapping your hands around her waist and thrusting upwards in her asshole. "Harder, brother, fuck my ass harder," she demands, and do like that, your balls slapping hard on her cheeks as you pound your sister's ass really fast. "Fuck, keep going, brother, oh yeah, yeah, yeah," Minji moans as you fuck her butt and spank it hard until you get exhausted and show off the massive gape you left on it. 

"I love the way you make me gape," Minji says as she looks at her prolapsed butthole. Haerin is in awe and wants it for herself, sitting her tight ass on your cock the second after Minji pulls out of it. Despite her inexperience, the little teenager challenges herself, trying to bounce as fast as she can on that fat pole. "Your cock is so big, daddy," she says, without dropping the pace of the ride, slowly learning the ways around it.

Haerin almost levitates as she goes up and down your cock. "Oh fuck," she moans. Minji watches and licks her young friend's hard nipples. "Oh God, shit, your brother is so big," Haerin moans as she closes her eyes, pushing hard as your shaft keeps impaling her. Minji helps her friend as she fingers Haerin's pussy and sucks her tits, giving her the confidence boost she needs to stay on top of your cock.

Haerin eventually succumbs as she gets down closer to your body but keeps your cock stuffed in her asshole. You take advantage of her weakness, grabbing her legs and putting her under a full nelson she'll never forget. "Oh my God," Haerin says as she is now completely defenseless to your hard thrusts. Minji looks at her and kisses her best friend, who gets completely obliterated. As soon as you pull out, Minji is right there to lick her best friend's massive gape, taking a long time tonguing Haerin's anus.

"You're so fucking nasty, little sister, I think you deserve a reward," you say. "I know I do, big brother," Minji answers, jerking your cock off. "Join me, let's make him cum togehter," she tells Haerin, as it doesn't take long until your erection turns into a fountain of cum that lands all over your crotch and belly, with Minji and Haerin cleaning it off with their tongues and swapping it with each other. "I can't believe this happened," is all you can say after an amazing session with your sister and her best friend.

"There is more tonight," Minji says. "Damn, I barely could handle one session, and you already want more, little sister?" you ask her.

"Well, not my fault you have such a great cock, big brother," Minji answers. "I hope it's hard and throbbing when I meet you in a few hours," she says.

Indeed, as you return to your home on that night, you see three naked asses up on that couch winking for you. The middle on you can tell it's Minji, but who are the other two?

"Good evening, big brother, I want you to meet Hanni," Minji points to the ass to the left of her, "and Danielle," she points to the right. "What do you want to do with them tonight? Tell me and I will lead you," Minji says.

All you could think of is how lucky you were for having such a naughty sister like her.

[muniimyg]

♡ 04: how you're lookin' at me, yeah, i know what that means and i'm obsessed

series m.list // taglist

note: a wild ride…. good luck y’all ,, THANKS FOR 1K 😻 my kitty is happy !!! hauwhahahahaa this part is lengthy so pls take a mfking SEAT. pls lmk what y’all think ,, send in asks 🫵 we’re headed towards the finale 💛 much wuv !!

warnings: tension/tampo vibes (whats that in english? lol) ,, male masturbation (jk gets himself off as he recalls oc slapping him) ,, jealousy (lots of it. like 90% of this part is filled with it) ,, oc has a hickey ,, angst ,, and a little mwaamwaaaa moment :')

//

life sucks. 

for jungkook, at least. 

it’s been almost a month since the incident, and you’ve done everything in your power to avoid him.

the memory of the fight—the words exchanged, the way he said your name—still lingers in the air between you like smoke, suffocating and inescapable.

at first, jungkook tried.

he texted you the next day and every day after that. his messages were hesitant and apologetic... and each one was left unanswered.

nerd [11:11PM]: ___, can we talk? sent nerd [11:28PM]: please? sent nerd [12:01AM]: i’m sorry. i mean it. sent nerd [12:03AM]: it wasn’t even like that. not with her.  sent nerd [1:09AM]: ik i’m gonna sound like a total douche no matter what so let me do it please sent nerd [1:15AM]: let me say sorry, let me fuck up, let me make it up to u sent nerd [2:01AM]: i really hate begging  sent nerd [2:01AM]: but i really hate u not wanting me even more seen

he did try to call though.

just once.

the ringtone barely lasted before he hung up, realizing how futile it was.

at one point, he showed up at your favorite coffee shop one afternoon. he sat alone by the window with an untouched drink, waiting. 

his eyes flicked to the door every time it opened, a glimmer of hope lighting his expression for a split second before fading when it wasn’t you.

after two hours, he left.

but now, almost four weeks later, jungkook has stopped trying (so hard).

it wasn’t a sudden decision, more of a gradual acceptance that whatever connection you’d shared—whatever you’d been to each other—was slipping through his fingers.

he told himself you needed time, that maybe this space was what you wanted, what you deserved. and so, he gave it to you.

he told himself it wasn’t the end. 

it couldn’t be.

he refuses for it to be. 

this is just… complicated. 

he gets that.

he's a smart guy after all!

but late at night, when the world was quiet and he was left alone with his thoughts, the weight of your absence pressed against his chest like an ache he couldn’t soothe. it... burns? it throbs in this aching rhythm that he can't quite figure the melody to.

jungkook thinks about the way you banter with him and how much it makes his day. how closely you sit next to him. how effortlessly you mesmerize him… 

how you flirted with him for a few days and now he's malfunctioning. how he spent the last month memorizing every detail of those days and can't get over it. he has convinced himself you're into him...  

like, remember how your fingers would brush his when you handed him something? that meant something, right? or how about the way you looked at him and tilted your head? shit, yeah.

that meant something.

fuck, the way you laugh and throw your head back and he gets a glance at your perfect neck—how he wants to leave kisses on it. how he… 

how he had you. 

for a moment, he really had you. 

under him, tangled, and messy. 

how he was so close to your lips. 

he should’ve kissed you. 

he should’ve locked the fucking door. 

he should’ve ran after you even more. 

but he didn’t…

and now? 

now you aren’t even around. 

he recalls what taehyung said to him night at the arcade. taehyung's words rub into his wound like salt. it stings. it makes him feel sick to his stomach and he just... get can't stomach it.

“she isn't gonna stick around forever... especially with all the shit you pull…”

there are no words to describe how incredibly helpless he feels.

if anything, he goes through circles in his mind; completely in disbelief he could fuck up this bad with you.

he hates that he can't think straight. he hates that he can't study properly. he hates that he stopped tutoring and even got in trouble with his profs for letting them down (they really counted on jungkook to help other students out).

he hates that he can't fucking breathe lately.

he can't sleep.

he can't eat.

jungkook hates the growing distance, but more than that, he hates how much it hurts.

he hates how much he wants to fix things even when he doesn’t know how. he just knows he wants to. god, fuck it—

fine. 

he hates how much he misses you.

but most of all, he hates that he was wrong. 

it was entirely his fault. 

jungkook hates it all.

by chance, you and jungkook run into each other. 

the scene is perfect.

it's the perfect set up to cry over when you get home—that is.

the rain starts just as you’re leaving the library, soft at first but quickly turning heavier. you don’t expect to see him—not here, not now—but there he is, standing under the awning of the café across the street, shaking out his umbrella. the door chimes as you step outside, and he looks up.

for a moment, neither of you move, caught in the heavy stillness of the moment.

jungkook freezes when he sees you. 

his eyes widen briefly, then soften into something cautious, hesitant. he tucks his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, fingers flexing nervously against the fabric as he steps forward.

“hey,” he says, his voice careful, like he’s offering a truce.

the sound of him makes your heart clench, the warmth in his tone threatening to undo you. but you don’t let it show. you nod once, lips pressed into a thin line, and move to step around him.

“wait—” his hand shoots out, not to grab you, just to stop you. his fingers hover midair, unsure if he even has the right to reach for you anymore. “___, please?”

the rain is falling harder now, pooling on the sidewalk and soaking into the edges of your shoes. you glance at him, taking in the way his hair clings to his forehead, the way his hoodie looks just a little too big on him, like he hasn’t been sleeping well or eating much.

“can you not pretend like this is a coincidence?” you ask quietly, refusing to meet his gaze. 

he stays silent. 

it wasn’t. 

truth be told, he’s been waiting outside for almost 45 minutes. he didn’t even know if you were at the library today… he just had to wait and find out for himself. 

"do you have an umbrella?" he asks, breaking the silence. 

"what—"

"here." 

he cuts you off, pushing the umbrella toward you.

you blink, startled, as he places the handle firmly in your hand. your fingers wrap around it instinctively, the metal cool against your palm.

"jungkook—" you start, your voice faltering.

he shakes his head, stepping back into the rain without a word. the downpour hits him almost instantly, soaking through his hoodie as he shoves his hands into his pockets and starts walking away.

you stand there, the umbrella trembling in your grip, watching him go. the rain comes down harder, cascading off the awning above you, but you barely notice. your gaze stays locked on him—on the way his shoulders hunch against the storm, on the slow but steady steps that carry him farther and farther away.

something tightens in your chest. 

maybe it’s regret or maybe longing… but as his figure grows smaller and the storm swallows him—you feel it.

the warmth of his lingering presence and the chill of it all—

—of your favourite almost.

a few days later, jungkook finds his umbrella in his bedroom. 

he takes out his phone to send you a text, prepared to humiliate himself and to beg for a second of your attention. he’d trade all tonight’s focus for a moment of you.

just as he picks the umbrella up, he finds a note. 

___ told me to give it back to you. she says thanks (whore). ps: she said don’t text her. — taehyung

jungkook sighs. 

does he listen? 

obviously not. 

nerd [6:19PM]: don’t tell me what to do  nerd [6:20PM]: i hate this nerd [6:21PM]: u should’ve jus kept the umbrella. giving it back to taehyung and telling him to tell me not to text u is sick.  seen. nerd [6:22PM]: reply pls seen.  nerd [6:26PM]: fine. i’ll jus talk to myself  nerd [6:31PM]: i miss u sm i jerked off the other night thinking abt the way u slapped me  seen nerd [6:33PM]: come on, kitty  nerd [6:34PM]: promise to think abt me tn :(  nerd [6:35PM]: cos i’m gonna think abt u tn nerd [6:36PM]: ignore me if u want proof  typing…  nerd [6:37PM]: kitty? seen nerd [6:40PM]: fuck. nerd [6:41PM]: how do u get me so fucking hard thru text? maybe i jus miss u too much  nerd [6:42PM]: excited for my proof?  seen nerd [6:45PM]: ft?  seen nerd [6:46PM]: keep seenzoning me and i’ll cum typing... seen ___ has notifications silenced

but it's too late.

jungkook meant it.

he's sat on his gaming chair, cock heavy.

his phone is out with that group picture from the arcade (zoomed into you) as lewd thoughts of you fill his mind. jungkook runs his thumb across his tip, hissing at the way it feels over his slit. 

he flicks his wrists, gripping his dick with just enough pressure to grow the hardness. it’s already stiff and he can feel the need to cum—but he just can’t.

he can’t without thinking of you. 

so, his eyes flutter shut as his memories of you replay in his mind. 

from the way your lips winced when he ate you out—to the way that mini skirt looked on you that day. he thinks about the way you say his name; in any and every way. angry, teasingly, and desperately… he thinks about how pretty it sounds rolling off your tongue. 

how pretty you looked under him.

how good you smelt when he kissed your neck. 

how close you sat next to him—fingertips lingering... god, what he would do to be close to you again. 

jungkook thinks about the slap. 

how hard your palms hit his cheek and how angry you looked at him. despite the negativity surrounding the situation—he can’t help it. 

you looked so hot. 

it just… gets to him. 

before he knows it, his hand is covered in his sticky cum. 

he’s a loser—a nerd in your words. 

he always has been… and here he is; jerking himself off to the pretty girl he lost his chance with.

the night is supposed to be nothing special. 

for jungkook, it’s just another event for his precious marine conservation club—a fundraiser, a schmooze-fest for potential investors, and a chance to hand out awards to appease the donors. sure, he’s getting an award, but it doesn’t feel like much.

the room buzzes with polite conversation and clinking glasses. jungkook adjusts his tie for the hundredth time, barely paying attention to the speeches and presentations. he stands off to the side with the other club members, blending into the background until his name is called.

“jeon jungkook, for outstanding contributions to marine conservation and innovation. mr. jeon has been working towards innovative chemical solutions for marine conservation, focusing on sustainable practices to protect endangered species like dolphins, and developing eco-friendly alternatives to reduce their environmental impact.”

the applause is polite but hearty.

jungkook steps onto the stage, the spotlight hitting him square in the face. as he accepts the plaque, his gaze instinctively sweeps over the audience—and then it stops.

you’re here.

sitting with the guys, casually chatting like you belong there, like you haven’t been avoiding him for a month and a half (at this point).

his heart trips over itself. 

he’s not even sure if it’s relief or panic or something else entirely, but it rattles him. he forces his attention back to the microphone, holding the plaque in his slightly sweaty hands.

“uh, thank you,” he begins, his voice steady enough, though his pulse is anything but. “our club’s mission has always been to protect and preserve marine life through education, community projects, and outreach. with this award…”

his eyes flick back to you. 

you’re laughing at something taehyung just said, your smile bright, your whole demeanor light and carefree.

“…we want to focus on…”

he falters, the words slipping from his mind as his gaze lingers on you.

“…we want to focus on… f-focus…”

a ripple of laughter spreads through the audience. someone whistles playfully. he blinks, startled back into the moment.

“…focus on sustainable practices and expanding our projects,” he finishes, clearing his throat as heat rises to his cheeks.

you’re laughing too, your head tilted slightly as you join the others. it should make him feel worse, but somehow, seeing you like that—smiling, present—grounds him.

he powers through the rest of the speech, keeping his gaze firmly away from where you’re sitting. when it’s over, he accepts the handshake from the host and makes his way offstage, barely registering the applause.

as soon as the ceremony ends, jungkook doesn’t even think. 

he weaves through the crowd, ignoring congratulatory pats on the back and comments from investors, his eyes scanning for you.

how did you know about tonight?

wait. 

shit.

he’s been texting you every day with random ass updates. of course you know. he’s yapped about it… but why? why did you come? don’t you hate his guts?

you're here so... maybe you don't hate him as much as he has convinced himself you do.

jungkook finds you near the back with the friend group, holding a glass of champagne and listening to hoseok animatedly retell a story.

“congratulations,” you say lightly, lifting your glass in a mock toast. your words are casual, but there's an edge to them, a distance you've kept between the two of you for far too long.

his chest tightens at the awkwardness of your tone, but he nods, his hands slipping into his pockets. the space between you feels impossibly wide now, though only a few feet separate you.

“thanks,” he says, his voice quieter than he intended. “... thanks for coming.”

his gaze flickers to yours for a second before dropping to the floor, and he shifts, a little uncertain, taking a half-step closer.

hesitantly, you inch back. 

his presence is suddenly overwhelming, more than you’re ready for.

“yeah… of course,” you murmur, unsure how to navigate the new dynamic between you two. the tension is thick, but there's something else there too. an unspoken history. “what are friends for, you know?”

he hates that. 

friends. 

yeah fucking right.

jungkook tries to break the tension.

he takes a risk.

he takes a small step forward, hoping you don’t move. this is the closest he’s gotten to you in over a month—he needs this. it’s like euphoria in his veins—being with you again.

he needs this.

“how have you been?” he asks, the question coming out softer than he anticipated. jungkook scratches the back of his neck and continues. “a-are you coming to the afterparty?”

your lips part, a pause hanging between you.

you don’t want to admit how much you’ve missed this. how much you’ve missed him.

but the words slip out, more natural than you expect.

“yeah,” you say, giving him a brief but warm look. “i’ll be there.”

for a moment, your eyes lock, and something shifts. 

it’s like you’ve both forgotten all the walls, the space between you collapsing. he can feel his heart rate quicken, like his knees might give out, but he forces himself to stay grounded, to act nonchalant.

“cool,” he says, trying to brush off the sudden rush of emotions. “i’ll.. i’ll be there too.” he smiles, but it’s the kind of smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes—not yet, anyway.

“i sure hope so,” you laugh. “it’s your party, nerd.”

nerd. 

holy shit. 

never has he ever felt so relieved to hear you call him that. 

as he’s about to say more, taehyung appears out of nowhere, slapping his arm and giving him a congratulatory squeeze. 

“hey, man, nice speech. well deserved,” taehyung says, grinning like an idiot. “what did you want to focus on, again?”

you laugh while jungkook rolls his eyes. he shoves taehyung playfully. 

suddenly, you can’t help but feel the awkwardness settle back in, like something’s shifted again. you feel a pang in your chest as you turn toward the other people nearby, the ones you've been socializing with before jungkook showed up. the buzz of the conversation pulls you away, and you focus on the group, hoping to escape the overwhelming emotions that jungkook’s presence stirs.

jungkook watches you go, his eyes lingering as you slip away from the conversation. 

he can’t help it. 

you’re in his head again.

he looks over at taehyung, catching his eye. 

“hyung, is she coming to the dinner before the afterparty?” he asks, trying to sound casual. his voice betrays him, cracking with just the faintest hint of hope.

taehyung raises an eyebrow, taking a sip of his drink. 

“yeah. excited?”

“no.”

taehyung scoffs. “say that again but take away the lying.”

“fuck off.”

“___’s a good friend, man,” taehyung chuckles, redirecting the conversation. “you’re lucky. you just might be back in her good graces.”

jungkook’s heart skips a beat. 

“really?” he asks, trying not to sound too eager.

taehyung grins, leaning in a little. 

“yeah, but... she’s bringing her little boyfriend with her.”

you’re doing what?

jungkook feels the need to rub his eyes or something.

was taehyung shitting on him? boyfriend? when did this happen? no fucking way. 

jungkook refuses to believe it. 

… yet, the words hit jungkook like a punch to the gut. his breath catches, and his stomach tightens. 

"what?" his voice is barely a whisper, the weight of it settling in. 

"she didn't tell you?"

"we haven't been talking."

"rightfully so."

fuck. 

no. 

he doesn’t want to believe it, but the hurt is already seeping through.

taehyung shrugs, oblivious to the internal storm brewing in jungkook. 

“shit, well... yeah, she’s been seeing him for a while. dunno if they’re officially together, but… guess she’s really moving on. good for her, right? i mean, now you can really focus on just being her friend.”

the air stills. 

the reality of it all comes crashing down. jungkook’s heart sinks, his chest tightening in that all-too-familiar ache. 

that's why you’ve been busy... 

you’ve been moving on.

his fingers curl into fists, the anger bubbling up before he can suppress it. but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t let his emotions spill out in front of taehyung, even though every part of him is screaming. 

“yeah,” he forces a smile. “i guess.”

as the night goes on, jungkook can’t shake the feeling that he’s lost something he can’t get back. something that’s slipping further away with every step you take, every laugh you share with someone else. and no matter how much he wants to fight for it, he’s afraid it’s already too late.

jungkook doesn’t want to go to dinner anymore.

he has no appetite.

jungkook is already at the dinner when you arrive. 

his mood is off, grumpy but with an undercurrent of sadness that he can’t quite shake. he’s forcing a smile when people congratulate him for the award, but it’s clear it’s not reaching his eyes. the night’s just been a blur of congratulations and polite smiles, but all he can think about who will walk in with you. 

does he know him?

is he gonna be some super cool prince charming?

does he know that jungkook was eating you out just a month ago? 

all valid questions…

however, you arrive a little late, and immediately his gaze searches for you in the crowd. when he sees you, his heart lurches. he spots you talking to someone, and the knot in his stomach tightens.

you make your way to the table, your eyes scanning it before you stop. for a moment, you aren’t sure where to sit. usually, you sit next to jungkook… but the spot is occupied by jimin. 

not by choice.

jungkook had saved the spot for you… you just came too late and he didn’t have it in him to tell jimin to move. but, jimin catches the milli-second exchanged look you have with jungkook and immediately shifts. 

“oh,” jimin begins. “shit, i forgot… didn’t know you were gonna show up so late—”

you chuckle, shaking your head. “it’s fine we’re gonna sit on the other side! by the way,” you pause and push the guy you came with forward. “this is do-hwan. he’s a biochem major and we have a few electives together… um, what else?” 

biochem?

serisouly?

do you have a thing for nerds or something? bro doesn't even look the part. he should be majoring in physics or something even more lame.

jungkook's thoughts cut short when he hears you giggling.

“hi,” do-hwan says with a grins at everyone. then, he turns and extends his hand to jungkook. “jungkook? shit, man. congrats on the award.”

he chuckles, giving jungkook a playful look. “organic chem, huh? i guess someone has to study the pretty side of chemistry.” 

what the fuck does that mean?

jungkook’s ears turn red. 

“yeah,” he grumbles under his breath. “nice to meet you too.”

with that, you and do-hwan make your way to the other side of the table. jungkook watches, his gaze hardening as you take a seat beside him.

he’s trying his best to stay calm and to not show it—not show how absolutely fucking mad this entire thing is.

this is ridiculous! 

his chest tightens painfully at the sight of you sitting with him. his fingers curl into his glass as he watches you laugh and chat with others, inserting do-hwan like you’re some proud girlfriend. 

you've probably known do-hwan like 10 seconds.

and jungkook can’t help it! every word you exchange with do-hwan makes him feel like he’s being crushed from the inside out. 

he’s trying to focus on the conversation happening around him, but his mind keeps wandering, drifting to you.

he watches as you lean in to talk to do-hwan, the way your eyes light up when you laugh at something he says. it’s the same laugh, the same warmth in your smile, but somehow it feels so much farther away from him now—like a memory that he’s trying to hold onto but can’t quite grasp.

he forces himself to look at the group again, but his gaze keeps slipping back to you. every word you exchange with do-hwan makes his chest tighten.

it's like he’s suffocating, and he can’t tear his eyes away. the way he moves so casually, his hand brushing against yours as he reaches for his drink. 

it’s too much.

it’s too familiar.

and then, as you turn your head to respond to someone else, he sees it.

just a flash of it—right there on your neck. 

a small hickey, barely visible, but it might as well be a brand. his heart stops for a beat. the sight burns in his chest, and before he can stop himself, his breath catches in his throat.

his stomach churns violently, a rush of heat flooding his veins. everything feels like it’s collapsing inward. the noise around him fades, and all he can hear is the pounding of his own heartbeat. the world shrinks, and the weight of the jealousy hits him like a truck.

he can’t stay here. 

not like this. 

not with this tightness in his chest, not with the ache in his stomach. the room feels like it’s closing in on him, and he knows—he knows he has to get out.

without a word, he stands abruptly, pushing his chair back. his heart races as he excuses himself from the table, slipping away into the hallway outside the main dining area.

the rest of the table doesn’t seem to notice his sudden departure, but your friends quickly start murmuring, and one of them nudges you. 

"you should probably go check on him," taehyung says, giving you an almost knowing look. “i told you not to bring him.”

you hesitate for a second, then stand, glancing at do-hwan.

“it’s not do-hwan's fault.”

taehyung rolls his eyes at you. 

“you’re playing it kinda mean tonight though,” he tells you. “jungkook’s been miserable. sure he deserves to be dragged through mud for whatever happened and for whatever he said, but this? on his night? i don’t know ___…”

you gulp.

maybe taehyung is right.

but you didn’t intend for it to be like this. you genuinely brought a friend you’ve been spending time with! and, sure… yeah. you’ve been kissing him for a few weeks now, but so what? jungkook has probably been fucking every student he’s been tutoring so why the fuck does this matter?

“___…” taehyung urges you. 

“yeah, yeah… i’m going.” 

you wave taehyung off as you get up from your seat. you excuse yourself and let do-hwan know you’ll be right back.

you find jungkook outside. 

he stands with his back pressed against the cool metal of his car, arms crossed loosely over his chest. you notice that his posture is stiff... like he’s trying to keep himself grounded, but his shoulders still carry the weight of what he’s just seen.

his jaw clenches every so often, like he’s holding something back, but when his muscles tense, it’s almost as if the anger or hurt inside him is too much to contain.

as you walk towards him and he notices you. he runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends, clearly agitated. he lets out a slow, shaky breath, his eyes cast down toward the ground as if trying to collect his thoughts. he shakes his head slightly, as if to shake off the frustration that has settled in his chest, but it doesn’t seem to help. 

then, he looks up at the sky, his gaze distant, unfocused, lost in the swirl of thoughts that seem to chase him in circles. his arms drop to his sides for a moment, his fingers flexing and unflexing like he’s trying to release the tension that has built up in his body.

after a long pause, he lets out a frustrated sigh, raking his hand through his hair again, this time pushing it back as he exhales sharply.

his whole stance is restless.

it’s like he can’t quite settle his thoughts or his body, caught between what he feels and the reality of what’s happening. 

he’s trapped in his own head, unable to escape the weight of the situation.

by now, you’re next to him.

are you here to set him free?

“so… have the dolphins ever thanked you for your hard work?” you ask, trying to break both the silence and tension with your light tone. “you do so much for them… ungrateful little brats—you know they’re psychos right? they bully—”

he doesn’t turn around. 

“what’s on your neck?” he asks. “did your boyfriend do that?”

your chest hurts at his words. “he’s not... he’s not my boyfriend.” you swallow, trying to keep your voice steady. “he’s just a friend.”

there’s a long pause, and when he finally turns to face you, his eyes are a mixture of frustration and hurt. 

“the same kind of friend i am to you?”

he’s trying to sound nonchalant, but there’s a tremor in his voice.

you shake your head, not knowing how to explain, not knowing how to make him understand.

“you know what? i didn’t come here to make you feel like this…” your voice cracks slightly. “i didn’t... i don’t want to hurt you. i didn’t want to come.”

he scoffs bitterly.

“maybe you shouldn’t have.”

his words sting, but you can’t back down. 

“what do you want me to do?” you ask, frustrated. “if i didn’t show up, you’d be upset and blow up my phone. now that i’m here, you’re still upset—”

“and this is how you chose to show up?” jungkook raises his voice, turning to you. he steps forward, towering over you. he brings his hands to your hair, pushing it back and leaning in to look at your hickey properly. 

he squints. 

“are you proud of this?” he hisses. “fucking bug bite bullshit.”

“stop—” you snap, cutting him off now. “don’t—”

“okay. sorry, fuck..."

a beat.

"___, i miss you,” he breathes. “i just… shit. can you stay still for a second?”

there’s a long silence between you two, the air thick with things unsaid. jungkook looks like he’s about to say something, but his mouth closes, his frustration evident in the way he grits his teeth. 

instead, he just breathes you in. 

for the first time in a month and a half; jungkook can breathe.

then, he steps away and sighs. 

“think i’m gonna head home first. i… i need some space or something,” jungkook tells you. “let them know for me?”

“y-yeah. sure.”

“okay,” jungkook nods. “i’ll see you later.”

“see you.”

for the first time in a while, jungkook offers you a smile and you return it. 

short and sweet—he takes it. 

he leaves and thinks about it the entire drive home.

when you arrive at the party, you’re still reeling from the brief exchange with jungkook. 

your thoughts are completely a tangled mess. 

from the words he didn’t say to the way his eyes held that edge of something unspoken—it all lingers in your mind like an unsolved puzzle. you thought you had it all figured out…

that you could be fine.

that you could move on—but now, after that moment, you’re not so sure anymore. 

your heart races in a way that you can’t explain. why does it feel like you’re standing on the edge of something—something big, something scary—and yet, you're not sure if you want to fall or pull back?

your mind keeps returning to the way he looked at you, like he was caught between wanting to say everything and nothing at all. it’s not a feeling you can shake off easily.

it’s heavier than you thought it would be.

at the party, you try your best to focus on the people around you. do-hwan is by your side, chatting casually with a few people, most of them strangers to you. some faces are familiar—people from jungkook’s marine conservation club, and others... just people. 

you make your rounds, greeting them politely, exchanging pleasantries, but your thoughts are still drifting back to him. to jungkook. the air is thick with anticipation, and no matter how much you try to focus on the conversations happening around you, your mind keeps wandering.

and then, there he is.

jungkook is standing by the drink table, his posture relaxed but not at ease. 

his gaze flicks to you for a moment, a brief flicker of something—maybe surprise, maybe something more—before he meets your eyes. there’s a tense, palpable moment of silence.

he’s holding a red cup in one hand, his fingers wrapped loosely around it. his other hand rests in his pocket, but his stance is still too rigid... too guarded.

it’s like he’s waiting for something to happen, for you to do something.

he doesn’t smile. 

he just nods at you. 

a small, deliberate movement that somehow feels too formal, too distant.

no words.

just acknowledgment.

you feel the knot tighten in your stomach, the nervous energy in your chest quickening. it’s the simplest thing, but it feels loaded with so much more.

you can’t look away. 

something inside you is aching to go over, to close the space between you, to ask if everything’s okay, to say something—but you're frozen. the tension in the air between you is thick enough to suffocate.

you swallow hard, trying to calm the unease building in your chest, but it's no use.

the silence stretches out, heavy and thick, as you stand there, caught between the desire to run or to take a step closer, not sure if you're brave enough for either.

you take a step back, trying to break eye contact, when suddenly, someone bumps into you from behind. you stumble forward, your feet catching on the edge of a rug, and you let out a startled breath as you lose your balance.

before you can fully fall, a strong hand grips your wrist, pulling you back against something solid. your breath catches as you feel the warmth of someone’s body close to you.

it’s jungkook.

without a word, his other hand slides around your waist, steadying you, his fingers briefly pressing against the fabric of your shirt. the contact is brief but grounding, like the world, slows for a moment, just the two of you, suspended in time.

he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t offer the usual reassuring words. 

his grip is firm, and steady, but he doesn’t linger. as quickly as it happens, he pulls away, his hand leaving your waist just as the tension between you starts to build.

you open your mouth to say something, maybe a thank you, but before the words leave your lips, he’s already moving away, stepping back with that familiar, unreadable expression.

you stand there. 

you’re frozen for a beat longer than necessary. your chest tight as you try to catch your breath… his sudden departure stings more than you care to admit. there’s no time for you to process what just happened, what that touch meant—or didn't mean—before he vanishes back into the crowd.

fuck.

the night only gets louder as more people flood into the house. 

the music thrums through the walls, bass-heavy and relentless, blending with the clatter of cups and the hum of overlapping conversations.

you weave through the crowd, the heat of so many bodies pressed together almost suffocating. your heart races—not from the chaos around you but from the weight of the unspoken tension that’s followed you since you walked in.

you couldn’t bring yourself to drink, though do-hwan had handed you a cup earlier. 

it’s long forgotten somewhere, left behind on a table. you’re too afraid of what a single drink might loosen in you—afraid of saying or doing something you’re not ready for.

you don’t want to make worse what already feels so broken.

“hey.” do-hwan’s voice cuts through the noise, his hand resting lightly on your arm. he pulls you aside to a quieter corner of the room, away from the crush of people. “you okay?”

you nod, a small, uncertain smile tugging at your lips. “yeah. just... a little overwhelmed, i guess.”

he watches you closely, his expression softening as if he’s trying to read between the lines. “you sure? you’ve been kind of quiet tonight.”

“i’m fine, really.”

“you don’t have to be,” he says, and it’s the way he says it—gentle, almost understanding—that makes you crack a real smile. “pretty sure jungkook hates me. pretty sure he’s killed me 10 times in his head in the past hour or so… and he knows all the organic chem shit to make it a really clean murder, you know? “

you let out a weak laugh, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. 

he grins at the sight, his confidence blooming as he leans in closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. 

“there it is,” he says playfully. “i was starting to think you didn’t know how to smile anymore.”

you laugh softly despite yourself, and his grin widens. 

do-hwan then dips his head lower as he talks, his voice dropping slightly, as if the two of you are sharing a secret. it’s intimate in a way that makes your cheeks flush, his proximity unnerving. his eyes flick to yours, and he leans in just a little more.

across the room, jungkook sees everything. 

is it hot in here?

because fuck, he’s burning up.

actually, the entire house is on fire in his mind. 

he’s been watching you for most of the night, though he pretends not to be.

the way do-hwan hovers near you, the way you laugh at something he says—it feels like a punch to the chest. every small interaction between you two is a reminder of what he’s lost, of what he could’ve had if he’d been braver, better.

his grip on his cup tightens, his knuckles white against the red plastic. he can’t hear what you’re saying, but he doesn’t need to. the way do-hwan leans closer, the way his hand brushes your arm—it’s enough to make jealousy coil hot and bitter in jungkook’s stomach. it burns through him, unbearable, as he watches do-hwan dip his head lower, his lips so close to yours.

and then something inside him snaps.

fuck it. 

before he knows it, he’s moving through the crowd, his feet carrying him faster than his mind can keep up. his hand reaches out, fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist just as do-hwan’s face nears yours. you barely have time to process the sudden motion before you’re being yanked back, stumbling slightly into jungkook’s chest.

“what the hell?” do-hwan says, his tone sharp, but jungkook doesn’t even look at him. his focus is entirely on you, his jaw tight and eyes dark with something unreadable.

your breath catches, your heart hammering in your chest as you look up at him, startled. 

“jungkook—”

he doesn’t let you finish. 

his hand wraps firmly around your wrist, and before you can process what’s happening, he’s pulling you away. his grip is steady but not rough, a silent insistence that leaves no room for argument.

“jungkook, wait—” you try again, glancing back at do-hwan, whose confused expression barely registers in the rush of your heartbeat.

jungkook doesn’t look back, his jaw tight and his steps purposeful as he weaves through the crowd, his hand never leaving yours. the air around you feels heavy, the muffled music and chatter blurring into white noise as he leads you up the stairs.

your pulse thrums in your ears as he pushes open a door and pulls you inside, closing it behind you with a quiet but final click. the sudden silence of the room contrasts sharply with the chaos outside, and for a moment, you can only stare at him, your chest rising and falling as you catch your breath.

he finally lets go of your wrist, his hand lingering for a split second longer than necessary before he steps back. his gaze is dark, unreadable, but the tension radiating off him is palpable. the weight of the moment presses down on you, thick and suffocating, as you wait for him to speak.

a moment passes.

then, another.

and another.

and another.

and then—

“dump him.” 

you clearly your throat.

“can’t dump him. he’s not my boyfriend—“

“you and your fucking situationships.”

you gulp.

you hate the way he says it.

situationship… fuck him.

the room feels smaller than it is, the air thick with the weight of the moment. jungkook’s jaw ticks as he stares at you, the sharpness in his voice cutting through the silence.

“you’re… fucking with me, right?” he spits out, his tone teetering between disbelief and frustration. “you can’t be fucking real right now. you were just—”

“i was just what?” you snap, your glare matching his. “no fair, jungkook. i got to hear you fuck some girl, but you don’t want to watch me kiss—”

“did i ask you to?” he cuts in, his voice rising.

“no,” you huff, crossing your arms. “but what are you asking from me right now? huh? jungkook… i don’t understand you—”

“what do you think i’m asking?” his voice lowers, but the intensity behind it doesn’t waver. he steps closer, his presence almost suffocating. “you’re always trying to act like this doesn’t matter. like i don’t matter.”

“maybe it doesn’t,” you challenge, even though the words taste bitter on your tongue.

jungkook laughs, but it’s humorless, sharp. 

“yeah, sure. that’s why you still give a fuck about me fucking—”

you snap. “don’t tell me her name.”

“what?” jungkook grumbles. “is that it? you get to parade around, yelling his fucking name and announcing it to the entire fucking world but i don’t get to tell you about the girl that came onto me for months? do-hwan biochem this, do-hwan that—do-hwan kiss me! is that it?"

"jungkook—"

"fuck, ___... listen to me, okay? let me tell you what i've been rehearsing for the past month and a half.... the girl i declined over and over again and fucked a total of 3 times because i was thinking with my dick is done. okay? if you’re trying to tell me that i fucked up—fine. yeah. i fucked up. but i meant it when i said it’s not what it looked like. ___, it wasn't like that. she spread shit about me being a good tutor and twisted it. how the fuck do you think i feel about myself? how the fuck do you think i feel about you seeing it differently—seeing me differently?”

your throat tightens, and you look away, desperate for a moment to compose yourself. 

“jungkook—”

“tell me how to fix it,” he cries, his frustration spilling over. “tell me what you want, because i’ll do it. i’ll stop tutoring if that’s what you want. fuck, i already did to be honest with you.”

you glance up at him, startled.

“why? that’s not going to change anything.”

“but i have to try…” his voice cracks, and he runs a hand through his hair, his exasperation evident. “i’ll give up anything—whatever it takes. just tell me what you need, and i’ll do it. want me to stop wearing ugly ass shirts? fine. want me to stop saving the dolphins you hate so much—”

“i don’t hate dolphins—”

“you’re scared of them.”

your eyes soften. 

“how’d you know—”

“it’s obvious,” jungkook breathes. “the same way it’s obvious you’re scared of this.”

this...

what even is this?

the silence that follows is deafening. you don’t say anything, and the tension between you stretches taut, threatening to snap. his chest rises and falls heavily, his eyes searching yours, desperate for something you’re not sure you can give him.

he takes another step closer, his proximity making it impossible to think straight.

“say something,” he pleads, his voice barely above a whisper now.

but you can’t.

you don’t trust your voice, don’t trust yourself not to break under the weight of it all. so you stay quiet, the space between you charged with everything unsaid.

the weight of unsaid words and unresolved feelings pressing down on both of you. you take a step back, trying to create some space to breathe, but jungkook mirrors you, closing the distance effortlessly.

then, you look around his room for some kind of break… but it backfires as your eyes meet a plushie, laying on his bed.

hello kitty.

“what’s that?” you ask a little shyly.

jungkook turns his head, feeling a little embarrassed at what you’ve seen.

“what do you think it is?” jungkook asks gently. "___... i... i can't do it. i'm sorry, i can't..."

"can't what?"

"i can't want you," he confesses. "i can't want you when i need you that bad."

he points at the plushie and sighs. "fuck, do you know how stupid that fucking claw machine made me feel? i spent like 1 or 2—"

"hours?" your eyes widen.

he shakes his head. "hundred."

hundred.

you stay silent.

"i'm sorry, ___... for everything. i'm a shithead. i'm mean and inconsiderate. i'm a waste of time—i know... but i want you to know that... everything about my life feels so weird without you in it. the past month and half has been absolute hell. it's like... if you're not around, all i do is think about you and it fucks with me. i wonder what you're eating, who you're with, and what you're going to do next... i get excited when you seenzone me. i feel like i can finally breathe when you're near. i don't know what you did and what fucking pavlov doggy shit experiment you did on me—but fuck. woof woof. whatever you want, ___. seriously."

then, you do what you fear.

you give in.

“how am i supposed to trust you,” you start, your voice shaky but firm, “when you’re not even a good friend? you’re always so mean to me, jungkook. think about it… when have we ever been good friends?”

he scoffs, the corner of his mouth twisting into a bitter smile. 

“maybe it’s because i don’t want to be your friend.”

the words hit you like a slap, your breath catching in your throat. 

“what if i want you to be?” 

his eyes search yours, as if trying to figure out if you’re serious. 

“really?” he asks, his voice dropping lower, softer.

“really.”

his gaze flickers down to your lips, then back to your eyes, and his voice drops even lower, a dangerous edge creeping into it. 

you can feel it… you can feel it about to happen. 

“even when i’m about to do this?”

before you can process his words, his hand moves to your waist, fingers curling around you in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. he pulls you closer, the heat of his touch searing through the fabric of your clothes.

his lips find yours in a kiss that’s as sudden as it is inevitable. 

it’s not gentle—it’s firm, deliberate, and entirely consuming. his other hand comes up to cradle your jaw, tilting your head just enough to deepen the kiss. your hands instinctively reach for his shoulders, gripping him as if to steady yourself against the storm he’s unleashing.

when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing hard. the air between you feels different now—heavier, laden with something you can’t quite name but can’t deny.

when jungkook finally pulls away, the world feels quieter, as though it’s holding its breath. his hand slides up, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, and he looks at you softly, his dark eyes searching yours. the tender gesture sends a fresh wave of confusion—and longing—coursing through you.

“bad friend,” you scold him in a whisper.

his lips twitch, a soft laugh escaping him as his thumb grazes your cheek.

“don’t do that,” he says, his voice low, almost pleading. 

you raise a brow at him. "do what?"

"don’t friendzone me.”

“why not?” 

“i just kissed you.”

“so?”

“so?” he mimics, his tone teasing, but there’s a sharpness in his voice that makes you squirm. his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. 

“kitty,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a rough whisper, “i’m gonna be impossible to get rid of now."

[clockwayswrites]

The Birdritch's Nest part 25

masterpost

“That is a lot of plants,” Jason said. He swept his eyes over the space as he slipped his lock picks back into their little pouch.

“He has a botanist friend, apparently, and she keeps giving him plants,” Dick explained as he squeezed past Jason and into the apartment.

“Why are you here again?”

“Because I have a car which is better to carry all of Danny’s stuff in than your bike,” Dick explained. He went over to the wall of plants in front of the windowed corner and squinted down at something on his phone.

Jason pulled out his own phone to glance at what Tim had sent. “You say ‘all Danny’s stuff’ like the list was long. The guy hasn’t exactly been demanding.”

“The ‘guy’ expects to actually go home in a few days,” Dick pointed out.

“And is an adult and so can, you know, actually go home,” Jason retorted.

“Damian’s attached.”

“…I concede to your point,” Jason said once that thought sunk in. “Double the clothing asked for?”

“Basically. Make sure that he has a weeks worth, Alfred can always do laundry,” Dick said before letting out a little noise of triumph and doing something over by the plants. “There, watering system turned on.”

“Congratulations, you’re a genius,” Jason drawled. “Now go get his medication gathered up and snoop a little while you’re at it.”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to be snooping,” Dick, words a teasing sing-song as he passed by.

Jason flicked him off. “Like you wouldn’t anyways. I just want to know what you find.”

“Only if you tell me what you find in the bedroom.”

“Deal.”

The bedroom was almost startlingly normal after the plant filled living main room. It didn’t look like Danny really spent much time in it beyond sleeping. The bed was absentmindedly fixed, a black down comforter over pale blue sheets. There was a paperback on the nightstand next to a lamp and a pocket sized notebook with a pen clipped onto the bent and battered cover.

It was the first thing that Jason picked up.

The notebook was obviously where Danny made notes when he was already settled in bed. As Jason flipped through the pages there was everything from to-do lists to invention ideas to… a lot of thought about wings. Jason turned the notebook in his hands. That page wasn’t in English. The language felt like it was on the tip of Jason’s tongue but he just couldn’t get it out.

Maybe some sort of dialect?

Jason couldn’t actually read it, but there was enough to piece together from similarities that tugged on his memory. Enough to understand it was about the wings. Something about the process of change? Aging?

“Hey Jay?” Dick interrupted, scattering Jason’s thoughts. “Can you read the label on these bottles? There’s some serious printing issues happening, I can’t even tell what language it’s in.”

The pill bottle felt oddly cold in Jason’s hand when he took it from Dick, but maybe the bathroom just had shit heating in this place. It would be just like Gotham builders to mess that up.

“Oh, that’s the same thing Danny is writing in here,” Jason said passing the notebook to Dick. “It’s something about wings and getting old, I think, but I can’t really read it.”

“Read it? I don’t even know what it is. Gives me a headache just to look at it,” Dick grumbled as he flipped through the notebook. “The whole bird thing has really been on his mind, hasn’t it?”

Jason gave a little huff. “Do you blame him? The guy has wings now. It would be on my mind too.”

“Yeah… guess I really can’t,” Dick said and snapped a picture of the page with the unknown writing to send to the group chat. “Any idea what it is?”

“Nope. It’s like it’s a distant dialect or that it uses some of the same alphabet of something I learned some of once. Like how Chinese and Japanese use some of the same characters, you know?” Jason explained as he opened the side table drawer and then quickly closed it again. That was more than he needed to know about Danny. “Maybe something from when I was catatonic in the league, who knows. There were a lot of languages in that place.”

“Cass or Damian might now it then,” Dick said as he eyed the drawer Jason had now moved away from.

“Don’t, trust me,” Jason said. “Did you get the medications you needed to grab?”

“Yeah, they’re in the bag. Just a standard bathroom, really. Though he keeps his toothbrush in this old mug with a hero I don’t recognize on it, someone called Phantom.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell, but it sure sounds like a hero name. Add it to the list,” Jason said as he started on gathering up the requested clothing and extra enough to last a week. “Check the closet to see if there are any shits in there that work around wings.”

Jason rolled his eyes as Dick threw the closet doors open dramatically and focused on his task. Jeans, sweatpants, underwear, what he guessed was pajamas were all added to the bag.

“So, nothing that looks like it was made for wings,” Dick said and tossed some normal shirts and a few sweaters into the bag. Jason sighed and folded them neatly. “Maybe he hasn’t had time to find any yet? It hasn’t been that long since the bird thing and seems it all started there. Or maybe he’s just always home when he’s had then?”

“Better let Alfred know then. He’ll want to get something as soon as possible.”

“Yeah, good point,” Dick agreed.

While Dick stepped out of the bedroom to call Alfred, Jason took the time to double check the list. It really was pretty basic. Jason didn’t know if Danny was just trying to not be demanding or if the guy didn’t need much, but Jason went ahead and put the bedside paperback and notebook in the bad too. Jason slung the duffel bag Dick had brought over his shoulder (he totally could have ridden his bike like this) and took a little bit of time to snoop through Danny’s bookcase while Dick finished the call. Sci-fi, horror, old text books, and a ton of notebooks filled the shelf with knickknacks and a few figures. Jason at least had to give Danny points for having some of the sci-fi classics, even if the range of works was pretty limited.

“Okay, Alfred is on it,” Dick said. “Anything else we need to do?”

“Nah, I think we’re good,” Jason said. Something made him not want to look through the notebooks, like they had already done enough snooping. It was an odd feeling. “Let’s get going, I’m hungry for whatever dinner is.”

“You’re always hungry,” Dick said.

Jason shrugged rather than dealing with how true that statement was. “I’m a growing boy.”

“You’re a trash pit.”

“Yeah, you want to go there, cereal boy?”

“Leave my cereal out of it!”

---

AN: I do love writing Dick & Jason so much. Can you tell I have an older brother? Also sorry for the mistakes I'm sure are abounding. Guess who turns out to be anemic? This critter! Maybe getting that fixed will help...

[shouyuus]

mma!bakugo who just so happens to train at the gym that you part-time at on the weekends (front desk stuff, bookkeeping, etc) and has always been a bit scary from afar bc he's got this constant scowl as if he's got a bone to pick with just about anyone and anything who crosses his path, but his coach (also ur boss) assures you that he's a big softie once you get to know him. you tell him in no uncertain terms that you think you're good, thanks.

mma!bakugo who's always the first one in and the last one out on your shifts, who's got shit manners but always holds the door open for you and sometimes you swear you can catch him watching you as you go about cleaning some of the equipment but goes tomato red whenever you catch him in the act and immediately yeets off to work on drills for about half an hour before he'll glance at you again.

mma!bakugo who doesn't know how good he looks when he's wiping sweat from his chin or chugging water from his massive 2-liter water bottle, a trickle of cold water dripping down his chin to run down his neck, his adam's apple bobbing as he gulps down the water, smacking his lips as he wipes his mouth on the back of his bandaged hand; doesn't notice the way that every girl (and a lot of the guys tbh) are staring at him, but he'll glance towards where he saw you last, standing helping a new guy sign up for the gym membership, smiling and laughing, and he knows it's what you're supposed to do but it doesn't stop the way his gut twists or the way he goes way too hard at the punching bag, hard enough for his coach to hike an eyebrow and ask what's gotten into him today? it's not like him to "lose control" like this

mma!bakugo who never calls you by your name where other ppl can hear, always says like "hey sweetcheeks, can you hand me a water?" or "dollface, can you do me a favor?" and you'd always roll your eyes and remind him that "that's not my name, bakugou-kun," even as you're doing whatever thing he asked for anyway.

mma!bakugo who keeps quiet and watches when a guy tries to hit on you (unsuccessfully) bc he knows you can handle yourself, but the moment the guy reaches out to try and put hands on you, he's on his feet, stalking across the gym to shove his way between the pair of you like "oi. she ain't interested." and by now, everyone's gone quiet, their eyes trained on him and the guy and you; the guy sizes bakugou up, puffing out his chest for a second, but the next, he seems to notice the thick cords of muscles braiding down bakugou's arms, the expertly wrapped knuckles on both his hands, and he puts two and two together fast enough to know that this really isn't a fight he should be picking.

so he scoffs and makes as if he weren't ever really that interested anyway, turning around and muttering beneath his breath that you weren't even that pretty to begin with.

"thanks," you say, but bakugo just frowns and cocks his head.

"don't let anyone talk to you like that, got it?" and there's still that signature grit to his voice, the sharpness to his eyes, but something about it is different today -- it's ever so slightly softer than he usually is. he opens his mouth like he's about to say something more but pauses at the last second and turns around, shoulders a little hunched, and you could swear you can see the tips of his ears go red.

mma!bakugo who, after you get him an omamori from a shrine visit that says "certain victory", can only stare down at his, mouth open, a lil speechless, until he looks up to find you blushing just as hard as he is, purses his lips, clears his throat and glances off towards the side, tucking the charm into his training shorts like "thanks. now i've really got no excuse huh."

mma!bakugo who when he wins (as you knew he would), throws up his hand, the charm you gave him clutched in his palm, catches your eye in the crowd, smirks and jerks his head; when you squeeze your way up to the barrier, he boops your nose with a gloved hand before tugging it off with his teeth, letting it drop to the ground, bending down so his eyes are level with yours, his chest still heaving, his skin flushed from the recent fight, there's a cut on his lip and a bruise blossoming high on his right cheek but neither of you seem to care -- all he can see is you.

he tugs on a loose strand of hair, cocks his head, you smile and glance at the omamori clutched in his hand and say, "guess the lucky charm really worked."

mma!bakugo who hikes an eyebrow at your words before his eyes track down to your lips and he sighs, leaning against the soft barriers, not caring that there are just about seven different cameras trained on the pair of you right now, runs a finger down your jawline till he can tip your chin back --

"or..." his voice is just a little hoarse, his normally bright eyes dark, his pupils nearly completely blown out, a total eclipse of the usual ruby red of his gaze --

"maybe my lucky charm is just you."

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Mama, I’m in love with a criminal

Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, no curse au, dead dove, violence described including murder, dark romance, use of y/n, descriptions of mental illness.

Synopsis: Sukuna’s talking to his therapist in jail about you. He’s incarcerated because of you, and his obsession is concerning.

An: Yeah idk i thought of this while I was driving to work one morning.

Session one.

His large frame laid lazily over the couch, clad in an orange jumpsuit. He had his feet propped up on one side, and his head was propped up on the other side in a far too casual manner. His naturally pink hair pushed up near the front, messily so.

He was still cuffed and shackled, but the therapist was still afraid of him. To the therapist’s credit, he had read the warrant that went into viscous detail of Sukuna’s crimes.

Normally, the therapist wouldn’t read the inmates warrants due to situations like these. He liked going into sessions with an open mind, but he had gotten warnings about Sukuna… how the man can fly into a blind rage like a switch on the wall.

He was brutal, unforgivable, inhumane.

Simple counseling wasn’t going to “fix” a broken human like Sukuna. The therapist knew this, but the state mandated that Sukuna undergo weekly counseling sessions per his sentence.

Sukuna could taste the therapist’s fear, and he let out an earnest laugh. “You don’t even want to try to fix me, do you?” He asked tauntingly with a lopsided grin. “I don’t blame you. Don’t feel bad~”

The therapist swallowed the lump in his throat, and he adjusted in his seat. “I can’t fix anyone… Counseling isn’t about fixing.. It’s about moving forward and learning how to live.”

“Bullshit.” Sukuna spits with shrug. “Counseling is about focusing on the past and letting shit hang you up for far too long. I guarantee you that you’re going to ask me about how I got here, is that right?”

The therapist is shaking like a leaf at this point. “Our past can help us navigate to a better future.” He murmured out weakly.

Sukuna roars in laughter, causing the therapist to nearly jump out of his seat. The pink-haired felon doubles over as he laughs hysterically. “You’re a funny guy. Fine. You really want to know how I got here? I’ll tell you.”

After a deep breath and wiping away a fake tear, Sukuna goes on, “You know, teachers always believe that pairing the troubled kids up with the good kids will inspire them to act right. That shit never works.”

“I think that’s when my ‘type’ developed. My bitch of a second-grade teacher assigned me to sit next to this frail meek girl after I got in trouble one too many times for terrorizing the other kids. She was a real stick in the mud.” Sukuna laughs fondly, a rare genuine smile on his face.

“Y/n?” The therapist asks, remembering your name from the warrants.

Sukuna’s red eyes snap over to the therapist with an almost predatory gaze. His hands visibly curl into fists. “Say her name again, and I’ll splatter your blood all over this room. The officers won’t be able to pry me from you, deeming you to be a lost cause.”

The therapist freezes as the breath hitches in his throat. His eyes dart toward his panic button, knowing he should probably press it now, but he’s frozen in fear.

“We’ll call her mouse.” Sukuna goes on as if he didn’t just threaten the poor guy’s life in brutal detail.

“Mouse was a real challenge. I for some reason made it my mission to get her to talk to me, but she always stayed silent — only answering me with simple head gestures.” He laughs again, lying his head back further as he’s replaying the memories in his mind. He can remember you vividly and how you looked back then. He yearns for that feeling again. The feeling of seeing you for the first time.

“I can’t exactly tell you when the challenge started to border obsession, but she slowly slithered her way into my brain. Even when I wasn’t in school, I thought about her. I wondered what she sounded like, wondered why she wouldn’t talk to me, wondered why she looked at me like that.”

The therapist furrows his eyebrows. Even though he doesn’t feel safe in this session, and he doesn’t trust Sukuna at all, he has a hunger for knowledge, and he loves solving things that have to do with the human psyche.

“Looked at you like what?” The therapist dared to ask.

Sukuna stayed silent for a moment, and he tapped his finger against the back of his hand. His face hardened as he found the words he was looking for. “She looked at me like she had no preconceived notion of me. Her eyes… were so big and round. Even though she didn’t talk to me, it was like she accepting of my presence.”

The shackles jingled as Sukuna rubbed his face in a stressed gesture. Remembering you was like a double edged sword. He loved thinking about you, but he hated being reminded that he was without you.

The therapist eased in his chair. There was actual emotions underneath all those tattoos, thick skin, and muscle. The media had portrayed Sukuna as a complete narcissistic sociopath, but this was proof that diagnosis was false.

“I bothered the shit out of her for years, continually getting myself paired up with her.” Sukuna grinned, shifting the conversation back in a direction that he was more comfortable with, “I remember those asshole kids always called me her shadow because I followed her everywhere. Jokes on them.”

The therapist shivered as be remembered a chilling detail from the warrants. Each time a victim was found, a message was written in the victim’s blood.

-ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ

His victim’s - their deaths were like an homage to you.

“Were the kids ever… assholes to mouse?”

Sukuna’s jaw visibly tightened. He loathed this therapist’s questions… thinking he knew everything just because you and Sukuna were misunderstood kids.

“They called her weird for not talking.” Sukuna recalled as he bit his inner cheek. His eyes glared to the wall in front of him. “Now look at who can’t talk.”

Sukuna’s first victim. He didn’t start out with murder. He started out with stapling your bullies mouth shut for taunting you. Everything was for you. Everything.

He held a kid down to the teacher’s in third grade, grabbing a stapler, and he pressed it down one by one into the kids lips, binding them together. The kid couldn’t scream or cry for help, or else he’d risk ripping the flesh on his lips.

The teachers found the kid and immediately knew the only kid sadistic enough to go through with such an act was none other than Sukuna.

“Did mouse witness you do that?” The therapist asked, genuinely intrigued by Sukuna’s narrative. For being a ruthless criminal, he was a wonderful historian.

“No. Why would I scare her like that?” Sukuna’s voice was tense as he eyed the therapist carefully, as if he was waiting for him to say the wrong thing.

The therapist clicks his tongue in surprise, and he looks like a deer in headlights. “Scare? No.. no, I thought you’d maybe just show off what you did for her.”

“I’m not the type to show off.” Sukuna answers flatly, and the therapist wonders if that’s the first time Sukuna’s lied during this session. He knows that Sukuna likes to show off. The warrants prove it.

“Anyways, I wore her down over the years. She didn’t speak to me until we were in sixth grade.” An eerie smile curls on Sukuna’s lip. “I can still remember her first word to me and how she said it…”

The therapist leaned in, curiosity getting best of him.

Sukuna smirks, knowing he has the therapist interested now. “Her first word to me was a plea. A word to show her undeniable want. Her first word to me was please.”

Bang! Bang Bang!

The therapist literally flinches out of his chair from the heavy knocks at the door.

“Ryomen! Your time is up!” The officer yelled on the other side of the door.

“Pity. I was beginning to have fun.” Sukuna remarked as he stood up from the couch. The shackles jingled as he walked toward the door, and the door buzzed, letting him out. “See you next week, doc.”

[cherrybr4t]

ex for a reason — choi seungcheol (+18)

cheol feels a wave of possessiveness when he sees your ex-boyfriend!

warnings: unprotected sex, fingering (f rec), sl*t, degradation (f rec), daddy cheol!, spanking, tit playing, jealousy! est. relationship, a little possessiveness haha, creampie, that’s all i think! ok enjoy <3

if seungcheol could pinpoint exactly why he, too, is a creature bound to the notion of possessiveness — he would. except, at this point of time, all he feels is rage.

not at you — no, no not at all. how could he ever be angry at his princess? the poor guy falling victim to his fiery glares would be your ex-boyfriend. said ex-boyfriend — mingyu, was definitely too buzzed to notice the hard daggers thrown at him.

you however, are quick to notice the switch in tension after mingyu came over to give you a hug, gushing over how it’s been forever since you’ve last met. you return the kind smile. after all you and him did end on cordial terms.

that ticks something off in seungcheol’s head. the way mingyu’s arms seemed too familiar — too comfortable snaking around you. all while he was standing there right beside you.

he shakes hands with mingyu, squeezing a little too tight until he notices the wince on that pretty boy’s face. head’s too busy thinking about the fact that he’s held you close under his covers before.

“baby, you all right?” you squeeze the hands that are tightly wrapped around your waist.

seungcheol hums, “yeah baby, just a little tired is all,” he reassures, leaving a peck on your temple. you narrow your eyes, knowing he’s withholding words from you.

“y’sure? we can leave early — anytime you wanna,” raising your brows at him, offering an exit.

“no baby, i’m fine. it’s your friend’s birthday after all, let’s stay a while more — enjoy this bottle of whiskey she has,” he lifts up the $3000 bottle off the table top, waving it slightly.

seungcheol self soothes. he thinks he’s got it all under control, it’s not like you’ve got residual feelings attached to mingyu — its been almost two years. but with the way mingyu keeps gazing over towards you, with that fucking smirk, seungcheol thinks he’s about to lose it.

the party is in full swing — party hits back to back, loud chatting over the speakers, with people dancing around. he sees mingyu start to make his way across the room towards the both of you.

without much thought, seungcheol pulls you in closer — if even possible, grabs your hand and leads you to a room. a guest room which you recognise due to the nights spent in your friend’s house.

“cheol, baby? what’s wrong?” you catch your breath, looking up at him and furrowing your eyebrows.

cheol tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. he looks at you tenderly, before deciding to come clean. it’s not the first time he’s informed you of how jealousy tends to cloud his mind.

“i…just couldn’t stand your ex being there. standing there looking at you, as if i’m not there right beside you — was fucking pissing me off,” he sighs out, leaning his forehead against yours, body to body.

you let out a small chuckle, “baby, you know how he is… plus the only man i’ve ever looked at the whole night — is standing right in front of me right now. he’s all i wanna look at.” you nibble on your bottom lip, hoping seungcheol catches every nuance of sincerity you’re projecting.

“yeah? i know baby.. sorry it’s just, i can’t help it. want him to back off. want him to know who you belong to now,” his voice barely above a whisper.

you gaze up, giving his plump lips a kiss. a simple peck which turned into sucking, biting and licking — which was the case all of the time because who could resist and pull away from those lips?

he kisses you back with even more urgency, even more passion and love — and you feel him take charge, grabbing your nape to pull you in closer. he wants to taste all of you, every inch and spot — he wants it all. wants the reassurance that you’re now his and only his to hold, to touch, to pleasure.

“you’re all mine aren’t you,” he growls out mid kiss, grabbing you by your chin, staring so deep into your eyes you feel the need seeping into you from his gaze alone.

“always have been, cheol.”

his heart settles at your voice. knows you’re his. but hearing it makes him feel a whole ‘nother level of complete. loves when you play to his possessive selfish desires.

“fuck,” he mutters to himself before sitting himself down on the edge of the bed, pulling you down to straddle above him.

he pushes and combs your hair to the back, hands rubbing up and down your body, hands claiming what’s his. he takes in your silhouette in front of him — sitting so prettily, just waiting to be devoured by him.

“you’re too beautiful baby, hate the thought of someone else getting to see you the way i do,” he removes the strap of your top, teasing slowly as he starts to pull your top above your stomach.

you raise your hands, letting him remove your top. he hisses, sucks in a sharp breath, noticing you went braless for the night.

“braless tonight baby? thank god it was warm out there. imagine if these,” he tugs on both nipples harshly, “were to stand if it were cold,” he releases them, rubbing over your hard nipples softly in circles with his thumb. “then that ex boyfriend of yours would’ve been able to see what’s mine, wouldn’t he.”

you whimper at the hard and soft sensation on your nipples, knowing he’s going gentle on you now.

“you’d like that baby? want him to see you like that?” he slaps across your tits, tainting the soft flesh with his print. you let out a whine, “n-no…don’t want him to,”

“yeah? it’s for my eyes only, right baby?” his hand inches towards your core, completely exposed under your mini skirt by the way you’re sitting.

he rubs his fingers over your panties, smirking at the wet patch he feels on your center.

“so wet baby, thinking about me or thinking about him?”

you frown and gasped at him indignantly, “you. baby — i don’t understa—” he slaps your cunt, soothing it immediately afterwards with a few gentle rubs across your core.

he knows it’s him, knows only he can get you so dippy — likes a confirmation of it anyways.

he pulls you in for another heated kiss while his fingers continue to stay busy toying with your clothed cunt. your warm cunt that he wants to drown in all the time.

“remove your panties and go on all fours for me baby,” he grabs your hips, lifting you off him. you silently think of ways to apologise to your friend before getting comfortable on the bed, just clad in your mini skirt.

seungcheol groans at the supple flesh of your ass spilling out of the short fabric. pulling you closer to the edge, he grips onto the flesh. fingers tense, possessiveness dripping down his fingertips. needs to feel you on every active nerve to remind himself that you’re solely his.

he dives in to give one long lick up your soaked cunt. you moan out his name, and he groans out how fucking wet you are.

“fuck baby, i think if i were to fuck you right now my cock would slide right in,” he settles for his fingers for now, feeling the way your walls immediately tighten around his finger.

“cheol…daddy, want more..” you push your hips back, wiggling your ass in his face. he slaps a harsh one down your cheeks, and you wince, whimpering slightly.

“greedy slut. think you deserve more? letting your ex boyfriend hug you like that,” he says that but inserts two fingers in this time. bottoming out to his knuckles, curling his fingers.

“d-don’t be angry daddy, you know i only want daddy… want you only…” you beg, breath hitching every time he hits the spot all the way inside.

“show me baby, tell daddy how much you want him.” he sees you look over your shoulders, eyes wide and sweat starting to form on the edge of your hairline.

the cocky look on his face has you tightening around his fingers. him fully clothed, fingers deep inside you while you lay so pliantly for him. you would do anything for this man. and so would he.

“please daddy, want you to make me cum. need your cock.” gripping onto the bedsheets tighter as you feel him sneakily insert a third finger.

“yeah baby? doesn’t seem like you want it that bad. i’ve heard you beg better.” he coos. he knows you could go louder — loud enough for him and the other guests to possibly hear. needs to set him straight.

you whine. god. frustration starting to boil and mix with the immense pleasure in your core. you know how cheol is. how he can get mean in bed.

“want—want you to fuck me daddy. please. need you so bad. please please cheol,” your voice breaks. you feel his other hand reach from behind to tug on your nipples, before reaching down to leave teasing touches to your puffy clit begging for attention.

he’s a master a multi-tasking. thinks when it comes to you, he’ll be a master at anything. anything that makes his princess feel good.

“fuck baby, making such a fucking mess. so desperate to cum aren’t you.” at this point, he’s more desperate than you to make you cum. he feels his cock growing so hard it hurts, and if he doesn’t cum inside you soon he’s going to lose it.

“fuck baby. show me why you’re my good girl yeah? cum on my fingers and i’ll think about letting you cum on my cock.” he rams his fingers so hard inside you, other hand rubbing tight and fast circles around your clit.

“cum for me baby, moan out my name nice and loud while you do yeah? let everyone know who’s making you feel good right now,”

with his urging, you snap and unravel, gushing out while cumming around his fingers. you scream out his name as you cum, hands turning white by how hard you’re holding on to the sheets.

“fuck daddy, so good… so good…” you puff out as you come down from your high. no time to register as you hear his pants drop to the floor.

“turn around baby, come sit on me.” you push yourself up, only to see him already leaning against the headboard, hand stroking his hard on. grunting. hints of pre-cum glistening in the dim room light. his gaze hard on you as he strokes himself.

you bite your lip, crawling slowly towards him before settling in front of him. he tilts his head, letting his pre-cum coat his length.

“think he heard you cumming all over my fingers?” cheol prompts. you flush, nod a little, think anyone within a few metre radius distance from the room would’ve heard you begging cheol to make you cum.

“wait til he hears how good my cock makes you feel baby,” he guides you towards him, letting you hover over his cock for a moment.

“you okay baby?” he whispers and gets a confirmation from you. “just want your cock in me,”

the tip presses against your entrance, and like what he predicted earlier, you sunk down his cock with ease, soaking wet cunt welcoming him eagerly. he groans, voice croaky. head so clouded by how snug and warm you feel.

“you feel so good princess, you feel fucking perfect around me,” he husks. his eyes unable to tear away from you — the way your mouth opens, gasps leaving you as you take him in all the way. the way your brows furrow with sweat down the middle. the blush spread on your cheeks and the moan you let out as you feel him completely.

he holds on to your hips, guiding you up and down his cock. switching between bouncing you and letting you grind on him.

“so fucking pretty, you always take me so well,” his brows stay furrowed, unable to fully process how fucking good you feel around him. feels like he could cum any moment.

“cheol.. daddy..so good daddy,” you moan out, you see and feel nothing but him and him only at this moment. and you want him to know how good he makes you feel.

“yeah baby? daddy’s cock making you feel good?” he raises his eyebrows, head hitting the back of the bed so hard yet he can’t feel the impact of it. so lost in the moment — wants you to cum around him, wants to cum inside of you.

“so so so good daddy,” you cry out, hands playing with your tits, giving him a little show as he continues to work your hips on him. his strong hands doing most of the work for you, while you focus on the feeling of his tip hitting and grinding against your gummy spot. the way he keeps creating waves of butterflies in your lower stomach.

“that’s it, let him hear how good i make you feel baby,”

“show him how you’re my needy little slut, bet he’s never gotten you like this,”

“no one can make you feel like i do right baby, no one compares to daddy right?” cheol utters out, cursing out every time he feels your walls tighten around him.

“n-no one daddy. only you can make me feel this way,” you cry out. “only you daddy, only you,” and it’s true. cheol works around your body like no other, like magic. knowing every spot of your body and how to take you there — faster than anyone ever.

his fingers make their way to your clit once again, and you jerk forward the moment he starts to rub messily on your slippery bud again.

“that’s it baby. only daddy can ever make you feel this way,” he snaps his hips up faster, feeling his incoming orgasm the more he hears you cry out.

“you’re doing so good baby, taking me so well. you belong on daddy’s cock don’t you,” he moans out. holding back on his thrusts, focusing on your clit to make you cum again. knows he won’t be able to hold back any longer if he continues fucking up into you.

“cum for daddy again? wanna see you cum around daddy’s cock. i know you can baby,” his pace quickens and he groans — knowing how it goes, knowing when you’re about to cum. needs to hear you fall apart on his cock.

“almost there baby, cum for daddy — that’s it that’s it… feels so fucking good doesn’t it baby, look at you.” his words alone bring you to a new high, cumming so hard around his cock, screaming his name so loud you think the upstairs neighbour knows who cheol is.

“fuck baby. gonna cum. gonna cum so fucking hard inside of you baby.” his hands find their way back on your hips, gripping onto dear life as he snaps his hips up into your dripping cunt.

“ah fuck, fuck i’m cumming baby, daddy’s gonna cum inside of you,” and you clench around him, watching the final string break as he whines out, and you feel his hot cum shooting inside you, painting your walls.

thick hot cum continues to spurt inside of you as he slowly fucks it in you, pushing his cum deep inside every crevice of your cunt. his moans come in sections, breaking more and more.

he lifts you up slowly before you decide to lay beside him, feeling beat. he extends an arm for you to lay on as a pillow and you smile, facing him as you use his arm comfortably.

“you were so good princess, did so well for me. as always,” cheol caresses your cheek softly.

“sorry baby, i shouldn’t have let mingyu hug me all over like that… i would’ve been upset if i were you too,” quietly, you place a kiss on his jawline. hoping he isn’t too affected by mingyu anymore.

“no baby, i’m not mad at you. just hate it when guys look at you that way…especially if it’s an ex-boyfriend.” he rubs his nose with yours.

“i know baby…let’s get out of here? i’ll find another day to bring minji out for a birthday dinner..”

giggling, cheol agrees — but not til you guys catch your breaths for a few minutes.

perm taglist 🖤: @gyuguys @black-swan-blog27 @do-you-remember-summer-127 @mrsjohnnysuh

a/n: hi luvs! sorry, i’ve been a lil caught up w life and etc so :(( missed being here n writing so here i am! managed to find some time to write a lil smth <3 hope u guys liked it, if u did — like, rb or comment ⭐️ love you, muahh 🍒

[thinkinonsense]

Sweet Temptations.

logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: fingering, oral (f receiving), innocence kink, inexperienced reader, darkish!logan

a/n: hi! sorry i've been gone so long! i have plenty of stuff in the works but for now here's this. i'm working on making a mini-series of dark!logan x inexperienced!reader so i hope everyone enjoys! <3

to think, logan almost went out to the bar tonight. almost left to find a one night stand or come home and fuck his hand. tonight could've had so many different outcomes but luckily, he ended up with the best one.

there's a light knock on his bedroom door. he knew it had to have been you since everyone was on a field trip a couple hours away for the night. logan obviously wasn't interested in going and you were busy working on an experiment in the laboratory.

in all reality, logan just wanted an excuse to stay here alone with you overnight. ever since he joined the x-men and met you down in the lab in that cute white coat and pretty smile, he's had a crush on you.

"hi, logan." you smile softly when he opens his door.

"hey, dollface. you need something?" he asks, leaning against his door frame and eyeing that short little nightgown of yours.

"can we talk?"

"sure."

the two of you walk into logan's room and sit on the end of his bed. you sit up on your knees, facing him. he can tell that something is on your mind but you're unsure on if you should confide in him or not.

"is everything alright?" he asks, growing concerned.

you nod, chewing on your bottom lip.

"whatcha wanna talk about then, sweets?"

logan's large hand rubs your knee softly, almost coaxing the words out of you.

"would you do me a big favor?" you ask, avoiding his hazel gaze.

"of course."

there's slight hesitation. you were afraid of logan's reaction to your request. after a deep breath, you remind yourself that it's just logan. the same logan who trains with you every morning, the same logan who plays with your hair when he's board, the same logan who praises you for all your hard work in the laboratory. there was nothing to be afraid of.

"c-can you take my virginity?"

the question almost killed logan. he though he had died and gone to heaven. you finally look at him with a twinkle in your eyes and he feels the need to adjust the tent growing in his pants.

"where'd this idea come from, sweetheart?"

"well, i was seeing a guy a while ago who acted really weird when i told him i was still a virgin then when i told storm and jean, they told me that if i'm ready to do it, than it should be with someone i trust." you explain so innocently to him. "i just figured since you've always been so gentle with me and i trust you so, i was kinda hoping you wouldn't mind."

never in his wildest dreams could logan have imagined this happening. you sitting pretty on his bed, practically begging him to take your virginity. god, logan couldn't even remember the last time he was with a virgin. must've been decades ago.

"that's real sweet, dollface. 'f course i'll do it." he says, watching your smile grow with excitement. "first i need to know what you've already done."

"i've kissed while sitting in someone's lap, given a hickey twice... maybe three times? some nights i'll rub myself against one of my pillows."

even though he knew the answer, he had to ask,"ever fingered yourself?"

"no." you shake your head, almost making logan moan at just the thought of being the first person to do that to you.

"want to try it?"

"s-sure but i thought we were gonna–"

"we will." logan assures. "need to get you loosened up first if you want me to fit inside of you."

a small gasp exists your lips, making him chuckle. logan leans, testing the waters to see how you kiss. he's a bit shocked by how you pull him closer to deepen it. you moan into his mouth while your hands roam his hair. he sits you in his lap and lets you grind yourself on top of him, showing him what you know.

"let's see if you're nice and wet for me." logan hums, lifting up your nightgown and feeling the wet spot over your underwear. "very good, dollface."

without thinking, you let out a tiny moan next to his ear because of his praise. he can't help but pull your head from its hiding spot in his neck to look at you.

"you like when i tell you how good you're being for me?" he ask, watching your face contort as your hips keep moving. one of his hands rests on your waist, stopping you from moving. "c'mon, you can tell me."

"mhm..." you nod. "love when you praise me."

suddenly, your back is pressed flat against his sheets as he kisses all down your body. leaving little marks here and there until he reaches the waist band of your pretty pink underwear.

"did you wear these just for me, princess?" he asks, placing a kiss right over the cotton covering your button.

"y-you said i looked p-pretty in pink."

as the words stumble out of your mouth, logan feels a warmth spread across his heart. a couple months ago, you were wearing a new pink dress and as logan passed you by, he mentioned how pretty you looked in the color. it meant a lot to you.

"you still do." he says. "can i take these off of you, baby?"

you nod, lifting your hips a little to help him. logan tosses the pink cotton somewhere behind him. lifting up the nightgown to your tummy, eyes glued to the spot in between your legs.

"didn't think you could get any prettier." logan mumbles to himself.

his intense gaze made you feel a bit vulnerable, trying to close your legs but his large hands stop you.

"don't hide from me, princess." he says, capturing your attention. " 'm gonna make you feel good."

logan carefully drags his thumb through your slit, collecting the arousal and circling it around your button. the feather like touch sends your head back and whimpers to fall from your lips. gently, logan pushes his middle finger past your velvet walls, groaning once you clench around him.

"atta girl, princess." he smirks watching you swallow up his finger. "takin' it so good."

logan watches in awe as your head fall back and the arch in your back. slowly he inches his face closer and licks a thick stripe up your fold before sucking softly on your button. you feel logan muffle 'fuck' against you, only resulting in more arousal to spill out of you.

"o-oh, logan." you moan, hips chasing his tongue feverishly.

since this was your first time, logan went easy on you, not making you work for your orgasm. he feels your cunt clench down on his one finger as it hits deep inside of you until you are seeing stars. with logan's other free hand, he paws at your tit and rolls it in his palm.

"need m-more!" you whimper with glossy eyes and lips. "p-please, lo."

in an attempt to give you what you want, logan struggles to hit another finger inside of you. he wasn't sure what he did to deserve this type of heaven but god, was he thankful for it.

"i can't, sweetheart." he groans, kissing your hip bone as he speeds up the finger inside of you. "you're too tight for two of my fingers. there's no way i'll be able to fit inside of you tonight."

before you could whine in protest, this indescribable wave of euphoria washes over you. smooth silky legs wrap tightly around logan's head. thighs covers his ears, blocking out the sweet sounds you were making. logan goes back to sloppily making out with your cunt until you weakly pull him off and drag him up to your lips, tasting your own release on his tongue.

"thanks, lo." you smile in a daze at him.

"anytime." he says. "i think you'll need another lesson soon though if you want to take all of me. do you want that, princess?"

he could feel your heart rate increase eagerly. you blush intensely and avoid his gaze as you nod.

"alright." he chuckles darkly. "but first, you gotta show me how you get off on your pillow."

[veilkeeper]

i do have to say that i like elgar'nan and ghilan'nain as our primary villains. because they look like cartoon bad guys on the surface but if you look a little deeper and find all those hidden little notes and codex entries, it's obvious they actually do have complexity that they don't want us to see.

ghilan'nain is actively in mourning. not just for andruil, but also for her fucked up little experiment of an archdemon, her most perfect creation, razikale. at the end of fire and ice, she is ready to throw herself into a fight that she might not win because she's blinded by her own grief, and she only doesn't because elgar'nan holds her hand and pulls her away. protects her. we can find notes that talk about how elgar'nan is concerned that she's not taking time to mourn properly. we know she's checked in on her first creations, the halla, despite the fact that she writes about them in this sort of detached, almost patronizing way. she calls them something she made when she was "untraveled and naive" and that she could never make them again, but she visited them just to see what they might have become in her absence. like she cares more than she wants to let herself.

and elgar'nan calls her sister, despite the fact that ghilan'nain is the youngest of them. he lets her experiment on lusacan for the express purpose of cheering her up. and when she dies he seems legitimately torn apart by it. what should be an opportunity for the first of the firstborn to finally become the sole tyrant he was practically made to be is instead him becoming completely and utterly alone, the only remaining of his kind. i don't think it's coincidence that both he and solas drift to each other as they do, even if it is as enemies. they're too alike, and they're also the only remnants of the old world, their world, that either of them have.

i can't say that i'm particularly sympathetic to either of them—they're both unrepentant monsters who have committed atrocities across millenia, but the fact that they have this hidden depth reminds me that at of the day they are not really anything that no one else is. they are very powerful mages that other people called gods. and people can be very sentimental, indeed.

[ahqkas]

Hello! ^^

First, just wanna say your blog is amazing. Second, what kind of shenanigans do you think would ensue with the batboys having a hyper physically clingy S/O? Like their S/O would get so excited they're home and just tackle hug them before they make it past the door kind of clingy.

♯ FRIDAY I’M IN LOVE . . . ( the batboys ! )

— gn!reader, fluff

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

BRUCE WAYNE

bruce wayne, the ever-composed patriarch of the family, would at first have no idea how to handle such enthusiasm. his s/o being hyper-physically affectionate would probably throw him completely off-balance at first—not because he doesn’t enjoy the affection but because he’s not used to being greeted like that.

( the door creaks open as bruce steps inside the manor, still half-lost in the grim report alfred had handed him earlier. before he even sets his briefcase down, a blur barrels toward him, arms wide, a gleeful shout of his name ringing through the grand hall.

he braces himself instinctively like he’s about to be tackled by a rogue metahuman. “wait—” is all he manages before you collide with him, wrapping him in a bear hug strong enough to make his muscles tense. for a second, bruce freezes like a deer in headlights.

“miss me?” you grin, cheek pressed to his chest as you sway him back and forth like a tree in a storm.

bruce glances down, trying to maintain the stoic facade, but his lips twitch, betraying the barest hint of amusement. “you know, most people say hello first.”

alfred passes by with an arched brow and a muttered, “at least you don’t end up unconscious, master wayne.”

he sighs, exasperated but secretly endeared. he knows by now resistance is futile. one hand rests awkwardly on your back, the other fumbling to steady the files tucked under his arm. “you’re going to sprain something one day,” he murmurs, though there’s a faint warmth in his tone. )

the first time you tackle-hugged him after patrol, bruises and all, bruce immediately went into “are you hurt?” mode despite being the one who should be resting. “you can’t just launch yourself at me like that—you could get hurt,” he’d chide, even as he gently pulls you closer to make sure you’re okay.

alfred would quietly revel in the sheer domestication of bruce’s typically aloof charge. “ah, nothing like unrestrained enthusiasm to balance out your brooding, sir.”

DICK GRAYSON

dick grayson would be all in for having a hyper-physically affectionate s/o. the guy thrives on connection, and someone who matches his energy—or even outpaces it—would not only make him laugh but also make him feel completely loved. if anything, your clingy antics would ignite a bit of playful competition as dick tries to out-affection you, though he’d absolutely let you win most of the time.

( the moment he unlocks the door after a patrol, the creak of the hinges is your signal to strike. without hesitation, you launch yourself at him like a projectile, arms wide and grinning ear to ear.

“dick!”

“whoa—!” he yelps, barely managing to catch you before you tackle him into the doorframe. one arm wraps around your waist while the other steadies both of you. “are you trying to kill me, or…?” he teases, his voice light with laughter.

“i’m just so happy you’re home!” you say, nuzzling into his neck.

“yeah? well, i love being tackled the moment i step inside,” he says sarcastically, but the grin splitting his face is entirely genuine. “i mean, forget taking off my boots or hanging up my jacket—this is exactly what i needed.” he spins you around for good measure, making you laugh as he carries you further inside. )

dick would absolutely take your clinginess as a challenge to see who could be more over-the-top. you tackle-hug him at the door? he’ll scoop you up and spin you. you randomly leap on his back during a walk? he’ll carry you piggyback all the way home. it’s basically a constant competition to outdo each other.

one time, you caught him mid-workout and tried to climb on his back during push-ups. he pretended to be annoyed but ended up laughing so hard he couldn’t finish his reps. “you’re impossible,” he’d say between laughs, letting you sit on his back as he fake-struggled to keep going.

JASON TODD

jason todd would act like he didn’t know how to handle having such a clingy and affectionate s/o, but deep down, he’d secretly live for it. the guy has been through hell and back, so having someone who’s so unapologetically excited to see him would catch him off-guard at first—but it would also heal a part of him he didn’t know was still raw. he might grumble, roll his eyes, and mutter sarcastic quips, but the way he’d instinctively hold onto you would give away just how much he craves your affection.

( jason walks through the apartment door, shoulders tense from a long night of patrol, his helmet tucked under one arm. he barely gets two steps inside before the sound of your excited yell fills the air.

“jay!”

before he can react, you’re barreling toward him, all wild energy and open arms. “oh, shi—” the rest of his curse is cut off as you launch yourself at him, practically climbing him like a tree. he stumbles back a step, caught off-guard but reflexively wrapping his arms around you to keep you both steady.

“missed me?” you ask with a grin, nuzzling into his neck as your legs wrap around his waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

jason sighs, trying to sound exasperated but failing miserably. “miss you? you act like i’ve been gone for months. i was literally out for, what, five hours?”

“too long,” you mumble into his shoulder, squeezing him tighter.

despite his words, you feel his shoulders relax as he hugs you back. “you’re ridiculous, you know that?” he says softly, his voice a little rough around the edges but warm. )

jason would never stop pretending to grumble about your antics. “do you have to tackle me every time i walk through the door? my ribs aren’t exactly indestructible.” but if you ever didn’t tackle him, he’d immediately notice. “what, no welcome-home ambush? you mad at me or something?”

he would absolutely start using your clinginess against you. if he wanted your attention, he’d dramatically throw himself onto the couch and groan, “i can’t go on. i need one of your hugs to survive.”

TIM DRAKE

tim drake would initially be overwhelmed by having such a physically clingy s/o, mostly because he’s used to people respecting his personal bubble—or just not being that excited to see him. but once he got past the initial shock, he’d secretly love it, even if he was absolutely terrible at expressing that in words. your affectionate antics would constantly fluster him, but he’d quickly become addicted to the way you made him feel wanted and cared for.

( if you interrupted tim in the middle of one of his all-nighters, the results would be like this: imagine him sitting at his desk, surrounded by coffee cups and glowing monitors, so hyper-focused that he doesn’t even hear you sneaking up behind him.

suddenly, your arms wrap around his shoulders, and you rest your chin on top of his head. “hi,” you whisper, making him jump so hard he almost knocks over his coffee.

“[name]!” he hisses, spinning around to glare at you, his heart racing.

“sorry, couldn’t resist,” you say with a cheeky grin, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple.

tim sighs, trying to look annoyed, but the light blush creeping up his neck gives him away. “you’re ridiculous,” he mutters, but instead of pushing you away, he pulls you into his lap, his arms wrapping securely around your waist. “if i let you stay, will you let me finish his report?”

“no promises.” )

your ambushes would frequently catch tim off-guard, leading to spilled coffee, toppled stacks of paperwork, and at least one destroyed keyboard. “[name], i love you, but you’re going to bankrupt me in tech replacements,” he’d grumble while cleaning up the latest mess.

he would eventually start using your affection as an excuse to take breaks. if you tackled him while he was working, he’d let out a long-suffering sigh and say, “fine. five minutes. but only because you’re so insistent.” cue you dragging him to the couch for cuddles while he pretends to be annoyed.

ADDITIONAL NOTE! if you like my work , please consider reblogging and / or commenting ! thank you if you do 🤍

[starryjake]

thinking about toxic situationship!heeseung :(

you’re by far his favorite out of all the girls he fucks but he’s too cocky to let you know that. in the back of your mind, though, you know. you can’t imagine that he takes his other girls out for late night ramen or lets them sit on his lap and watch him play video games.

you can’t imagine he’s as gentle and sweet during aftercare with anyone else. in fact, you really hope he isn’t. you hope he kicks out all the other girls he sleeps with as soon as he’s done with them. you hope that he doesn’t let them spend the night like he does with you, even going as far as to make you breakfast or take you out the next day.

every time he’s with another girl, he can’t stop thinking about fucking annoying they are and can’t help himself from comparing them to you. he knows you would be so much better: better at sucking his dick, better at riding him, just your pussy in general was better.

he’d text you when he was hanging out with other girls, not even waiting for them to leave the room but doing it right next to them. he didn’t care if they could see, even when he was texting you about how bad they were and how he wished he were with you instead.

heeseung: this blows

y/n: whys that?

heeseung: bc she isn’t you baby

y/n: you could always leave and come over :)

heeseung: aww my girl wants me to ditch this chick and come fuck her instead? is that what you want, little princess?

y/n: fuck hee…please :(

he could not say no to you. 10 minutes later and he’s ditched the random girl he was with and was instead pounding you into your mattress, grunting loudly as you clenched around him.

“fuck yeah, baby,” he moaned, hips drilling into you. “you’re such a good girl. so much fucking better than anyone else.”

and you took it so well, eating up every last word.

he also loved that you didn’t talk to any other guys. you just wanted him and only him so, so badly, and maybe if he did relationships, he would choose you to be his girlfriend. but, he didn’t date and he made sure you were aware of that from the start your situationship. but the point was, he loved that you were still loyal to him, not even wanting to talk to another guy because they just weren’t heeseung. no one did it like him.

no one ate you out until you were squirting everywhere and shaking like he did. no one fucked you until your eyes were rolling into the back of your head and drooling onto his sheets like he did. no one made you feel like passing out from intense pleasure like heeseung.

you liked him. you were probably in love with him. you hated knowing he saw other girls and he loved knowing it made you upset. he loved knowing that you liked him enough to get so jealous of other girls.

again, he would never tell you that he couldn’t give less of a shit about the other girls. in fact, he would purposely use them just to make you jealous, fucking them for the sole reason of knowing you would hate it. your jealousy was what got him off because it showed that you cared about him, that you wanted him all to yourself.

he thought about you every time he thrusted his cock inside another girl’s pussy. he thought about how much tighter you were than them. how much warmer, wetter, and more delicious you were.

heeseung liked you a lot too. he was also probably in love with you and he realized that when he was finishing on the tits of someone else and moaned out your name instead of theirs.

-

like sorry i just needed to get this off my chest bc heeseung is FUCKING WITH ME TODAY!!

anyway how are y’all? :3

[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.

[lupinqs]

CRUSH CULTURE ━━ paige bueckers x reader

☆ ━ summary: paige has a hopeless crush on you, a cheerleader.

☆ ━ word count: 5.4K

☆ ━ warnings: alcohol consumption, kissing, this one’s tame

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, inspired by this request (lol i know this was forever ago)

☆ ━ author’s note: hiii i hope y’all enjoy—lemme know if you guys want a part 2 and if so send in ideas for it!!! i have been hopelessly uncreative recently!!! also yes i have been writing tmtc and safe and sound i promise—new chapter of tmtc should be out sometime this weekend, no idea on safe and sound because goddamn that fic takes me forever to write

PAIGE HAS ALWAYS noticed you—though, funny enough, at first it wasn’t because you cheered. That part didn’t even register until her junior year, when she started paying attention to things off the court. But she’d first noticed you back in her sophomore year, in that one class she didn’t feel like she needed at all. She’d often zone out, either doodling in the margins of her notebook or letting her eyes drift around the room as she let her mind wander. Her gaze would skip over classmates until, one day, it stopped on you.

And, God, she remembers that moment. The way she’d blinked, like she needed to reset her brain for a second because… well, you. It wasn’t anything specific, nothing she could even name at the time. But there was this something about you that made her stomach flip. From then on, whenever she zoned out, her eyes would find you before she even realized it. You’d be focused on your notes or lost in thought, completely unaware, and Paige would catch herself staring just a little too long.

She’d think about talking to you, but for some reason, you made her nervous. And that wasn’t something Paige was used to feeling—not with girls. She’d been confident her whole life, even a little cocky when it came to flirting, and her reputation certainly proceeded her. But with you, all of that confidence vanished. Her brain would go blank, her hands would fidget, and her heart would pound just watching you, sitting across the room. The idea of walking up to you, striking up a conversation, felt almost laughable. You’d somehow managed to turn her, Paige Bueckers, into a stammering mess with just a look.

And then there was the other part—the part that kept her from making a move even when she managed to work up the nerve. You looked so…straight. She knows it’s a stupid assumption, but something about the way you carried yourself—she’d convinced herself that you had to be straight. Maybe it was the way you fit in with the other girls, how they flocked around you like they were all in some effortlessly straight, picture-perfect group. Whatever it was, Paige felt certain you’d never look at her the way she looked at you.

So she let it go, or at least, she tried to. But you kept slipping into her thoughts, distracting her in that class, making her mind wander back to you when she least expected it. Her silly little crush on you lingered all through sophomore year, and even when summer rolled around, she found herself thinking of you every now and then, imagining what it might have been like to know you outside of that class.

Then junior year rolled around, and her whole world changed with that ACL tear. Benched for the season, her focus shifted in ways she never anticipated. Instead of charging down the court, she found herself sitting on the sidelines, watching, observing things she normally wouldn’t have noticed. And it was during one of those games, one of those long, frustrating nights when she just wanted to play, that she saw you again—this time, on the court as one of the cheerleaders.

At first, she couldn’t believe it. She actually had to blink a few times, like her brain was trying to catch up with what her eyes were seeing. This was her third year at UConn, and she hadn’t noticed you were a cheerleader ever. Maybe she really was just unobservant, but it truly shocked her. You looked completely different from how you did in class—more animated, more alive, like you were in your element. And when you started that long, impressive tumbling pass down the court, her jaw dropped. She didn’t even know you could do that, and it left her staring, heart hammering in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. (And maybe the tiny little uniform helped speed it up, too.)

From then on, Paige couldn’t keep her eyes off you during games. She’d always find herself watching you, wondering if you’d somehow feel her gaze, hoping that maybe, just once, you’d look her way. She spent so many games like that—sneaking glances, letting her mind wander, imagining what it might be like to finally work up the nerve to talk to you. But game after game, you never seemed to notice her, too focused on your routines, your teammates, and the cheering crowd around you.

And Paige? She knew she was hopelessly stuck. She’d sit there on the sidelines, feeling ridiculous, pining after a girl she couldn’t even talk to, a girl she thought she’d never really have a chance with. It was her worst crush yet—the kind that left her feeling off-balance, stumbling over her own thoughts, trying to convince herself that it didn’t matter—and she’d never even spoken to you. But each time she saw you out there, smiling, moving with that same effortless grace, she’d feel that same pull, that same quiet, persistent ache.

It’s senior year now, and Paige has one thing on her mind: basketball. It’s been more than a year since she’s played, and she’s determined to make this season count. All summer, she told herself the same thing over and over: Stay focused. Don’t get distracted. No more drifting thoughts, no more daydreams, and absolutely no more pointless crushes on girls she can’t have. And especially no crushes on you.

You, the cheerleader she’d spent too many junior year games staring at from the sidelines. You, the girl she still thought about when her mind wandered late at night, even though she knew better. No, this year, she was locking in. She’d worked too hard, too long, to let her head get all twisted up over you again. She was here to play basketball, not to chase after some unattainable crush.

But as she jogs onto the court for warm-ups, trying to ignore the butterflies that come with her first game back, her eyes somehow find you anyway. Just like they always do. And it’s like no time has passed at all. You’re laughing with the other cheerleaders, your hair perfectly styled in a half-up-half-down, a bow nestled in it, your uniform hugging you just right. The lights catch on your skin, giving you this soft glow, and your smile—God, that smile, so open and sweet and painfully distracting—has her heart skipping a beat before she even realizes it. Paige quickly snaps her eyes away, reminding herself she’s here to play, not to get lost in some imaginary world where she has a chance with you. This is her first game back, and even if it’s just an exhibition against Dayton, she’s got to make it count.

With a deep breath, she manages to brush you off. The pregame excitement kicks in, and her focus sharpens as the game begins. And it’s everything she’s been waiting for—the sounds of the court, the rush of the crowd, the thrill of moving with the ball in her hands again. She’s finally back, and for the first quarter, she’s locked in, feeling the rhythm of the game, feeling unstoppable.

Then it happens. KK makes a bad pass, and Paige is already in motion, chasing down the ball to save it from going out of bounds. She dives, stretching to reach it, but it’s just out of reach. Before she can stop herself, she’s crashing full speed into the sidelines—right into the cheerleaders.

Right into you.

The impact is quick and jarring, and she scrambles to her feet as fast as she can, heart hammering in her chest. She’s prepared to rattle off an apology when she realizes who she’s just barreled into. You’re significantly smaller than her, and her stomach drops as she takes in your wide eyes and the faint wince that flickers across your face. But you handle it with the same grace she’d always admired from afar, waving her off with a laugh and saying, “It’s fine! You’re good!” Your smile is easy, casual, and she’s even more mortified by how sweet you’re being about it.

She tries to apologize again, but you’re already brushing it off with that smile, and she feels her face heating up as she mumbles something unintelligible before hurrying back onto the court. But now her head’s a mess, all her carefully built-up focus gone, replaced by the embarrassing replay of what just happened. She tells herself to get it together, but it’s no use. Her mind keeps drifting back to the look on your face, to the sound of your laugh, to the softness in your smile when you waved her off.

The rest of the game passes in a frustrating blur. She’s off her rhythm, missing open shots she’d normally sink with ease, getting caught in rotations she usually anticipates. By the end, she’s only scored eight points—a painfully low number, especially for her—and she feels the weight of it like a stone in her stomach. She should be thinking about the game, her missed shots, how to get her focus back. But as she sits on the bench, watching the last few minutes tick away, all she can think about is you standing there, laughing off her clumsy collision, looking up at her with that easy, unbothered smile.

So much for not getting distracted.

After the game, Paige is still kicking herself over how sloppy her performance was. She lingers in the locker room, hoping to avoid any unwanted run-ins. But finally, when she’s convinced she’s given it enough time for everyone to clear out, she heads out into the quiet halls of Gampel Pavilion.

Except, of course, her luck isn’t that great. Just as she’s walking out, she spots you—still in your cheer uniform but with a UConn sweatshirt thrown over it, heading down the hall, cheer bag on your back. Her first instinct is to turn around, bolt back into the locker room, and hope to avoid any more humiliation, but it’s already too late. You look up, and your eyes meet, and suddenly she’s frozen in place, panicking because she’s actually staring straight into your eyes.

And then you smile at her. That smile, the one that sends her brain into a meltdown every time. But it’s so much worse now because your smile is directed at her. And, suddenly, you’re walking up to her and saying, “Hey, good game tonight,” and Paige is pretty sure her heart has stopped.

She tries to seem casual, to play it cool, but all she can manage is a shrug and a half-hearted, “Eh, wasn’t my best.” She’s hoping you don’t notice her stutter, but her cheeks are burning, giving her away.

You just wave it off, your dimple showing as you grin up at her. “Nah, this was just your warm-up. You haven’t played in, like, over a year. Next game you’ll drop thirty.”

Paige blinks, and the fact that you know she’s good at basketball—even though everyone knows she’s good at basketball—is enough to send her into a coma, she thinks. “Oh, gosh,” she says, rubbing the back of her neck, struggling to find words. “Gonna have to now, just for you.” The second it’s out of her mouth, she mentally facepalms. That totally sounds like she’s trying to flirt with you.

But you just laugh, eyes crinkling as you look at her, completely unfazed. “I’ll hold you to it,” you say, and that smile doesn’t waver.

There’s a pause, and Paige knows this is where you’re about to say goodbye, and she panics because, after two years of thinking and practically obsessing over you, she’s finally talking to you, and it feels too short, too fleeting. Before she can second-guess herself, she blurts, “Oh—uh, hey, about earlier… when I ran into you. I’m… really sorry about that.”

You shake your head, smiling even wider, brushing it off with an easy laugh. “Don’t worry about it. Happens all the time; more than you’d think.”

There’s something so casual and warm about the way you say it, and she feels herself relax a little, caught up in the fact that you’re looking right at her, not at all bothered, almost… endeared? And for some reason, seeing your dimpled smile has her stammering like she’s never done before.

“So… uh…” Paige stumbles, her words failing, her confidence gone. “Are you, um, going to Ted’s tonight?” She bites her lip the moment it’s out, but she presses on. “You know, a lot of people go there after the first game—it’s kinda, like, a…thing. Which, y’know, I guess you probably already know about because… you’re, like, not a freshman…” She sounds so stupid. God.

You tilt your head slightly, considering, before you smile at her again. “I wasn’t really planning on going, but…” You pause, looking at her with a bit of a spark in your eyes, and for a second, she feels like she might actually combust. “Should I?”

Paige’s eyes widen, and she’s nodding before she can stop herself. “Y-yes! I—I think you’d have a good time.” She mentally scolds herself for the stutter, but you’re just nodding, still smiling, still looking so effortlessly at ease while she’s a nervous mess.

You laugh softly, a sound she’s sure she’ll replay in her head all night, and say, “Alright. I’ll think about it. And if I do decide to go, I’ll see you there, Bueckers.”

And with one last smile, you turn and walk away, leaving her standing there in shock, her heart racing and her mind replaying every word you just said. She’s tempted to pinch herself, convinced this has to be some elaborate daydream because there’s no way she actually just talked to you.

She doesn’t move for a long moment, replaying the way you said her name, the sound of your laugh, and the chance that she might actually see you tonight.

IT’S LATER in the night at Ted’s, and Paige is doing her best to stay composed, talking with one of the guys from the men’s team. Dirty Shirley in hand, she’s feeling just the faintest buzz, not enough to loosen her grip on reality but just enough to feel the edges of her confidence soften. She’s nodding along to something the guy’s saying when, over his shoulder, she spots you walking in.

Paige’s attention falters as she takes you in. You’re in baggy jeans that hang low on your hips, and a leather tube top that clings in all the right places, dipping enough to make her gaze lower slightly. She can barely tear her gaze away as you head over to the bar with a couple of friends, both of whom Paige recognizes from the cheer team. You’re laughing, leaning into one of them, completely at ease, and she can’t stop watching.

She realizes she’s staring a little too long, so she quickly excuses herself, not to talk to you—God, no, she can’t even think straight around you—but to hide by her teammates before she does something stupid. Her teammates notice her the moment she approaches, grinning as they watch her flustered expression.

“You see who just walked in, P?” Azzi teases, nudging her.

Paige groans, cheeks burning. “Don’t start.”

But they’re all laughing, and Ice is elbowing KK with a smirk. Nika, who’s been listening with a barely disguised grin, rolls her eyes. “Okay, this is ridiculous. You’ve had a crush on this girl since, like, forever. Go talk to her.”

“Are you kidding? I can’t. She’s—” Paige doesn’t even finish the sentence, glancing over her shoulder just in time to see you at the bar, waiting for your drink. She’d be lying if she said her confidence hadn’t evaporated the moment you walked in, looking like that.

“Girl boo,” KK sighs dramatically, before grabbing Paige’s wrist and dragging her toward the bar. Paige stumbles after her, mumbling weak protests, but KK is determined, practically hauling her across the crowded floor until they’re standing right next to you. KK orders a Sprite, leaning casually on the bar and glancing over at you with a grin. “Hey, girly pop! You cheer, right?”

You smile, looking more at Paige than at KK, and Paige’s heart thuds against her ribs. “Yeah, I do,” you say, introducing yourself and holding out a hand to KK, but your gaze flickers right back to Paige, who’s half-hiding behind her friend, cheeks pink and looking slightly caught. “Hi, Paige.”

Paige’s voice comes out a little sheepish. “Hey.”

KK smirks, clearly satisfied, and gives Paige a quick wink before excusing herself, leaving Paige standing there alone with you.

There’s a beat of awkward silence as Paige shifts on her feet, trying to keep herself from looking like an idiot, which is hard considering how aware she is of every single thing about you—your posture, your smile, the way you’re leaning in just close enough that she can catch a faint hint of your perfume.

“So,” Paige says, trying for casual. “You glad you came?”

You tilt your head, your lips quirking up. “Hmm, not sure yet. I’m not too impressed so far.”

She nods, stifling a wince, feeling more awkward than she can ever remember. And yet, her mind’s racing, urging her to just go for it, because this is her moment. She’s Paige Bueckers—she’s supposed to be confident. She always is. Besides, if you’re not interested, at least she’ll know. And if you are…

She hesitates, then swallows, trying to keep her voice steady as she says, “Um… can I buy you a drink?”

There’s a flicker of something in your eyes—maybe amusement, maybe surprise—and she’s mentally bracing herself for you to say no when you glance at the bar and say, “Actually, I just ordered one.” Her heart sinks a little, but she forces a smile, trying to play it off. Of course you’re not interested; she should have known better—

Then you’re leaning closer, nudging her elbow with yours, and you smirk, your voice soft and playful. “But you can buy my next one, if you want.”

Paige’s brain short-circuits as your words settle in, her mouth going dry as she realizes what you just said. “Uh, y-yeah, totally,” she manages, trying to keep from looking as giddy as she feels. “I…I’d love to.”

Your smirk turns into a grin, and you’re looking at her like she’s the only person in the room. She’s trying to come up with something smooth to say when, suddenly, one of your friends pops ups beside you and Paige, tugging on your arm, pulling you off the barstool and towards the crowd with a teasing, “Come on!”

Paige opens her mouth to protest, but before she knows it, you’re being swallowed up into the throng of people—not before you send her a quick, apologetic look over your shoulder, your friend still dragging you. Paige frowns, a little disappointed, but quickly catches herself. It’s fine, she thinks, though a twinge of regret lingers. She pushes it aside, grabbing her drink from the bar and returning back to her table, telling herself to focus on celebrating. She’s finally back on the court, and after such a long, difficult recovery, tonight is meant to be about unwinding. So she does, letting her team hype her up as they cheer and clink their drinks in her honor, pulling her deeper into the night.

As the time passes, Paige’s frustration eases, replaced by a warm buzz that dulls everything except the elation of being surrounded by her friends. But even as she sips her drink, she can’t help but think about where you’ve disappeared to, if you’re still here, still laughing with your friends somewhere across the bar. She finds herself scanning the crowd more than once, looking for a glimpse of you. She tries to push it down, laugh it off with another round, but every time she looks around, her gaze seems to search for you.

Eventually, the heat of the crowded bar gets to her. She feels flushed, dizzy from the alcohol and the mass of people, so she slips out the back door for some air. The cool breeze hits her face, and she closes her eyes for a second, sighing as the sounds of the bar fade behind her. She barely has a moment to herself before she notices a figure sitting just a few feet away.

It’s you, sitting on the curb, looking down at your hands as if lost in thought. Paige blinks, unsure if she’s seeing things. But then you look up at the sound of the door closing and smile, that familiar, gentle smile that makes her heart stutter. You seem just as surprised to see her, but your expression softens, like you’re genuinely happy she’s there. And that’s all the encouragement Paige needs.

“You care if I join?” she asks, trying to sound casual, even though her heart’s racing.

“Not at all,” you reply, and she takes a seat beside you, a bit closer than she planned. She feels your warmth even in the night air, and it makes her head spin in a way she can’t blame on the alcohol.

There’s a pause, a comfortable silence stretching between you. Paige watches as you draw patterns in the gravel with your fingers, the lights from the bar casting a soft glow over your face. She swallows, summoning up the nerve to say something—anything that might keep you sitting here with her.

“Why you out here?” she starts, genuinely curious.

You shrug, glancing back toward the bar. “Got a little claustrophobic in there,” you say, voice soft.

“Yeah… me too,” Paige nods, grateful for the fresh air and this quiet moment with you. The silence returns, but this time, it’s charged, heavy with something she can’t quite put into words.

Finally, Paige finds her voice again, her words slipping out before she can think them over. “You’re a good cheerleader, y’know. You do all those flips and shit—it’s impressive.”

You let out a small laugh, looking away for a second as if flattered. Paige is almost certain she sees a faint blush on your cheeks, and the sight makes her smile a little, lips curving upward. “Didn’t know you really paid attention to the cheerleaders,” you respond, teasing.

Paige scoffs, shrugging as if it isn’t a big deal, even though she feels like she’s been caught in some sort of confession—which, she kinda has. “Well, I did sit out for a year, so… I had to find something to watch.”

You tilt your head, smirking as you ask, “So you chose to watch me?”

Paige’s cheeks warm, and she silently thanks the alcohol for the courage that lets her meet your gaze. “Yeah,” she murmurs, watching as you look away, biting your lip as if trying to hide a smile. The sight makes her heart skip in a way that’s both exhilarating and terrifying.

After a moment, Paige adds, “I think we… had a class together, couple years ago?”

You nod, eyes lighting up at the memory. “Yeah, we did. Sociology, right?” you reaffirm, nodding in tandem with her. “’M surprised you remember that—you always seemed so disinterested.”

Paige nearly blanches, genuinely surprised you’d noticed her too. She didn’t think you’d have remembered her, much less noticed her back then. The notion gives her some of her usual confidence beck and she manages a chuckle, shaking her head and tilting it slightly toward you as she murmurs, “Ah, so you were watching me too, huh?”

You roll your eyes, but your smile betrays you as you nudge her shoulder. “Shut up,” you mutter, but the blush on your face doesn’t go unnoticed.

There’s another pause, the two of you sitting side by side in the quiet, both of you lingering on the edge of something unsaid. Finally, you break the silence, voice soft and hesitant. “How come you never said anything before?”

Paige swallows, the question catching her off guard. She doesn’t know how to answer without giving herself away, without admitting the way her stomach twists every time she sees you around campus. So instead, she asks, turning the question back on you, “How come you never did?”

You don’t seem to mind that she didn’t really give you an answer. Instead, you just shrug, looking down at your hands. “I don’t know… you make me kinda nervous.”

The confession makes Paige’s heart alight, feeling like it’s on fire and might spread throughout her whole body. She’s used to people being in awe of her for basketball, for her skills on the court. But hearing you say that you feel that way too, like she’s someone more than just her reputation, shakes her. Besides, you’ve always seemed so incredibly at ease around her, never even bothering to look her way. So, almost incredulously, she asks, “Why?”

You scoff, looking at her like she’s missing something obvious. “Um, because you’re Paige Bueckers. Basketball prodigy, campus celebrity.” You raise your eyebrows at her. “I think most people would be.”

Paige feels a rush of warmth at your words, the way you say her name like it means something special. She searches your face, feeling the air grow thick around you, heavy with something she couldn’t quite name. And maybe it’s the alcohol in her system, maybe it’s the way you’re looking at her like she’s somehow both intimidating and endearing at the same time, but she’s feeling bold. Bold enough to keep this conversation going, to see where this moment might lead.

She clears her throat, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Well, if it helps… you make me nervous.”

You laugh, a little breathless, clearly surprised. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious,” Paige insists. “You ain’t see the way I stuttered around you earlier? Ion know, ma, you just kinda fuck with my head.”

She watches, grin widening, as you blush at her words, the color blooming across your cheeks. It’s addictive, seeing you react like that—because of her. She doesn’t even try to hide her amusement when you ask, gaze set out in front of you instead of on her, “Why would I fuck with your head?”

It’s a good question, one Paige asked herself for a long time. It never took her long to figure out the answer. Though, she’s a little nervous to explain herself.

And she gets even more nervous when your gaze slides back onto hers, your head turning towards her. Paige’s smile falters, just slightly, at the eye contact. It’s intense, the kind that feels like it’s holding the world still for a second. Paige’s heart is a drum in her chest, each beat vibrating through her veins. Her eyes slide across your face, your features, tracing the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips, the faint shimmer glitter swiped along your eyelids. She catalogues every detail as if she’s never going to get this close again—a very real possibility if she doesn’t up her game.

Finally, she leans in—just slightly—her voice low and steady as she answers you. “You got this positive energy that makes you just… stand out in front of a crowd. Big smile. Bright eyes. Mm, I just… like seeing that in people.”

The words settle in the space between you, warm and lingering. Paige hesitates, letting them wrap around you both before adding, her voice dipping lower, her boldness shooting upward, “And it doesn’t help that you’re too beautiful for your own good.”

You blush deeper this time, cheeks tinted more red than pink, and it makes Paige’s heart skip. She can’t help the way her lips twitch into a grin. She’s waited so long to see this—see you flustered because of her. It’s everything she imagined and more.

“Stop,” you protest, fighting a smile as you push at her hands, your tone not carrying any weight behind the word. Paige just laughs, soft and easy, catching your hand in hers before you can pull away. She lifts it slightly, letting her thumb brush over your knuckles as she murmurs, “Nah, really.”

It’s then that the air changes—shifting into something heavier. The space between the two of you is practically nonexistent at this point, your sides tucked right into each other. You’re staring at one another, and Paige can’t help it when her gaze flickers down to your lips, just for a second. But it turns out to be enough. Because then she sees your eyes dart to her mouth in return, lingering there. And that’s when Paige knows.

Still holding your hand, she locks her gaze on yours, her voice firm but soft when she repeats, “Really.”

It’s like that word unlocks something between you because suddenly you’re leaning in, and Paige is doing the same, her breath catching the moment your lips touch hers. It’s soft, tentative at first, like neither of you are quite sure if this is real. But then you press into her just slightly, and Paige swears the whole world tilts on its axis.

The kiss deepens, slow but deliberate, and Paige feels her whole body light up. Your lips are warm, soft, and you taste faintly of tequila and strawberry chapstick. It’s intoxicating, the way you move against her, gentle but with enough purpose to make her head spin. Paige’s hand slides up to cradle your jaw, her thumb brushing against your cheekbone.

Your fingers grab at her bicep, holding on like you don’t want to let go, and it sends a thrill through her. Paige’s lips part slightly, and when you follow, letting her slip her tongue into your mouth, it’s like a fire ignites somewhere deep inside her. The kiss isn’t frantic or messy—it’s unhurried, like the two of you have all the time in the world to explore this. She can feel the heat of your skin where her hand cups your face, and she wants to memorize every second, every sensation.

The way you tilt your head just a little, giving her more access, nearly undoes her. Paige tilts her own in response, deepening the kiss further, her fingers slipping from your jaw to the back of your neck. The touch is light, almost reverent, but the closeness makes her heart race.

Your other hand moves, grazing against her side before resting lightly on her hip. Paige’s stomach flips at the contact, her body leaning instinctively closer to yours. She swears she can feel the warmth of your breath between kisses, the subtle hitch when she nips at your bottom lip.

It’s slow, it’s sweet, but it’s intoxicating. Paige swears she’s never kissed anyone like this before, never felt this much just from simple lip-locking. When you pull back slightly—not breaking the kiss entirely, just catching your breath—she can’t help herself. She follows you instinctively, her mouth chasing yours in a way that feels both vulnerable and utterly fearless. You allow her to, tongues half entwined between your swollen lips.

When you finally part, Paige keeps close, her forehead gently pressing against yours, her hand still cradling your neck. Neither of you moves far, the space between you so small your breaths still mingle, soft and warm against each other’s lips. Paige’s eyes flutter open, but she doesn’t look away from you, her gaze locked on yours like you’re the only thing in the world that matters—which, right now, you might as well be.

Her voice comes out lower than she intends, husky and laced with something she can’t quite hide as she murmurs, “You gonna let me buy you that drink now?”

Your lips curve into a slow, easy grin, and Paige feels her chest tighten, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of it. You’re so close she can see the faint glimmer of mischief in your eyes, the way they soften as you look at her.

“Yeah,” you say, your voice soft but sure, “I’d like that.”

The way you say it, the way your smile widens just slightly after, makes Paige’s heart race all over again. She can’t help the small, satisfied smile that spreads across her face. Paige leans back just enough to take in the sight of you—your flushed cheeks, the way your hair’s slightly mussed, and that lingering, breathtaking smile she knows will haunt her in the best way.

“Good,” she murmurs, her thumb brushing your jaw lightly one last time before she pulls away completely, standing up and offering you her hand. When you take it, she holds on a little longer than necessary, leading you back into the bar, already planning how she’s going to keep you smiling for the rest of the night—and, hopefully, much longer afterwards.

[ktownshizzle]

Love & Lullabies | Part 3

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader

Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongi’s life—afternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. You’re just fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didn’t want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life you’ve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isn’t the only one who’s clumsy.)

Alternatively: It’s 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weight—an 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility. (Thank god you’re there to help him.)

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoon’s bestie

Warnings: Yoongi is a DILF (!!!) That’s it.

Chapter warnings: GRAB YOUR TISSUES!, this bitch is a whole ass kdrama episode and it’s gonna hurt before it gets better, happy ending tho!, themes of self-loathing, anxiety, and depression (MC), severe postpartum depression (not MC), it’s monsoon season and namgi don’t like umbrellas, (____) in the rain cliche scene, NAMTIDDIES because I can’t help myself, lastly… watch me morph this into another workplace romance/co-workers to lovers story lmao (real)

Word count: ~7k

Posting date: November 21, 2024

Notes: This is inspired by an ask/prompt sent by @yoongznme. 

I am a clown 🤡 and a liar 🤥 From pretending this is a two-shot, then a three-shot. It has become a chaptered series, atp. There is a part 4 in the works and I fully intend to end it there, but again, I may have just jinxed myself. Anyway! Enjoy, my lovelies~ 💕

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four |  Masterlist

“She’s Haneul’s mom.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut.

“What?”

“Sung Kyung and Yoongi… they’ve been good friends for years,” Namjoon explains quickly, his tone almost apologetic. “I didn’t think they were dating. But yeah, she’s his mom. She left for months and when she came back, she'd already given birth.”

You feel like the ground has been ripped out from under you. What Namjoon said made no sense. You clutch the edge of the counter, your mind racing. “What do you mean she left…?” You have never been more confused in your entire life.

Namjoon sighs. “I don’t know all the details. You know hyung, he tells you what he thinks you need to know. The rest, he keeps to himself. But I do know they did the paternity tests and everything, and Haneul’s his, theirs.”

Theirs. It’s easier if Namjoon just slices your heart open at this rate. 

He places a tentative hand on your shoulder. “It’s better to hear it straight from Yoongi-hyung, since you guys are, you know.”

“I– I don’t know. I don’t know what we are,” you say, leaning your weight sideways against the wall to steady yourself. 

Get a grip. It’s Haneul’s day. 

Namjoon stands to shield you from the rest, in case anybody chances to look your way. You probably look like you’re about to puke. You definitely feel like it.

“Joonie…” Your voice is small when you ask, “Do you think she wants to come back now?”

Namjoon lifts his shoulder, lets it sag, “I don’t know. Maybe. She wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

Your chest tightens, a wave of insecurity crashing over you. Of course, she would want to come back now. She’s beautiful, successful, everything you’re not. And most importantly, she’s Haneul’s mother. That’s the kicker. How can you compete with that?

Spoiler alert: you can’t.

When you step back into the living room, the first thing you notice is Yoongi’s mom. She’s standing off to the side, her lips pressed into a thin line as she glares at Sung Kyung from across the room with a mixture of disapproval and barely-contained irritation.

“She shouldn’t be here,” she says quietly, her voice cold and clipped.

“Eomma,” Yoongi grits.

“She abandoned Haneul, Yoongi,” his mom hisses, her tone sharper now. “And she thinks she can just come here like nothing happened?”

Yoongi sighs, his hand briefly brushing his mother’s arm in a silent plea for calm. “Not here, eomma. Please. It’s Haneul’s birthday. Don’t make a scene.”

Of course he is siding with her.

You’re unable to tear your eyes away from Sung Kyung. How can she look so beautiful even if she looks miserable? She exchanges a few more quiet words with Yoongi near the door, her expression alternating between frustration and what looks like regret. You can’t hear what they’re saying, but you catch the way Yoongi’s shoulders stiffen, the way his jaw tightens as she reaches out to brush his arm. You see Yoongi nod, and you’re so curious, what is he agreeing to?

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she leaves. The door is closed, but for sure this chapter isn’t. Not even close.

You entertain yourself by watching some of the BTS members play some video games. Their antics, as funny as they are, don’t really register. Your laughs are hollow, mind totally elsewhere. It’s a while before Yoongi finally finds you, after he disappeared to his studio after Sung Kyung left and went MIA for half an hour or so.

He corners you near the snack table as you pretend to be engrossed in arranging leftover cupcakes.

“Hey,” he says softly, touching your arm lightly.

You turn to face him, your smile brittle. “Hey. How’s everything going?”

“Can we talk?”

You nod, following him toward the hallway, away from the laughter and chatter. The noise completely fades as you enter his soundproof studio and he turns to face you.

He exhales deeply, running a hand through his hair. “I wanted to talk to you,” he says carefully, like he’s choosing every word with precision.

“About Sung Kyung.” you offer. He nods, shoulders visibly tense. “Yeah. And Haneul.”

The mention of Haneul makes your chest tighten, but you steady yourself, waiting for him to continue.

“She and I… we were close for a long time,” he begins, his gaze dropping to the floor. “And yeah, there was a point where I thought it was going somewhere. But then she just… disappeared.”

“Disappeared?”

“She left Korea. No warning, no explanation. Just… ghosted.” He shrugs. “I didn’t know where she went or why. She didn’t contact me for months.”

“And then one day,” he continues, “she called. Told me she just gave birth to a son. That it was mine.”

The words hang between you, heavy and jarring. You don’t say anything, letting him get it all out.

“She didn’t tell me she was pregnant,” he says, shaking his head as if he still can’t believe it. “I literally only found out after he was born.”

You feel a pang of sympathy, but then you’re also feeling angry at Sung Kyung. “Why did she wait so long to tell you?”

“She said she didn’t want to burden me. I was already doing my military service and I had that thing… that case. She thought she could handle it on her own.” He looks up at you then, his eyes dark and conflicted. “But after she had him… she couldn’t. She fell into really severe postpartum depression and some other health issues, basically telling me she was diagnosed unfit to take care of him.”

Your throat tightens, and you clasp your hands together to keep them from shaking. “So you stepped in.”

He nods, “I didn’t have a choice. Haneul needed someone, and I couldn’t—I wouldn’t turn my back on him. He’s my son. It was confirmed by a paternity test.”

“And now she’s back,” you say, more a statement than a question.

“Yeah,” he says quietly, dragging a hand down his face. “She says she’s better. That she wants to be in his life now. That she can be. And honestly… I don’t know what to do.”

You study him for a moment, your emotions warring between compassion and your own sense of inadequacy. “What do you want, Yoongi? Not for her, not for Haneul. What do you want?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, gnawing his lip before he says, “I just… I want to do what’s right for Haneul.”

The words cut deeper than you expected, but you force a small smile, nodding as if they don’t sting. “That makes sense.”

Yoongi takes a step closer as he studies your face. “But what about you?” he asks, his voice almost too gentle. “How are you feeling about all this?”

The sincerity in his question takes you off guard, and for a moment, you’re tempted to tell him everything. The ache in your chest, the jealousy you hate admitting to, the fear of losing whatever connection the two of you have built. But instead, you plaster on a smile, shoving all those emotions into a corner of your mind.

“I’m fine,” you say lightly. “It’s Haneul’s birthday. That’s what matters.”

Yoongi doesn’t look convinced, his gaze lingering on you as if he’s trying to read the truth in your expression. But after a moment, he nods, letting it drop. “Okay.”

Finally, you glance at the door, forcing yourself to straighten up. “We should probably get back to the party.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi says, stepping aside to let you pass. But as you reach for the door, his voice stops you.

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

You turn back, your brows furrowing. “For what?”

“For everything,” he says, his eyes filled with something you can’t quite name.

You don’t know how to respond, so you just nod. Because his words—why did it feel like a goodbye?

The rest of the party passes in a blur. You keep smiling, keep laughing, keep pretending everything is fine. You stand by as Yoongi helps Haneul blow out his single candle, snapping pictures of his chubby hands smashing into the frosting. 

You’re wiping stray frosting from Haneul’s cheek when you glance at him and for a split second, you see her. Sung Kyung’s face is right there, faint but unmistakable, in the shape of his eyes and the curve of his brows.

The realization hits you like a freight train. You freeze, the cloth clutched in your hand, staring at this beautiful baby boy who isn’t yours. Who will never be yours.

It’s too much. You set the muslin down, excusing yourself to the kitchen with a muttered, “I’ll grab more drinks.”

You don’t even make it to the fridge. You stand there by the counter, gripping its edge as you force yourself to breathe, to keep the tears at bay. You’ve never felt more out of place in your life.

Namjoon finds you a few moments later, leaning against the doorway with a quiet, watchful look. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask if you’re okay. He just stays there, close but not too close, his presence steady and silent. You appreciate him for that—for knowing exactly what you need when you’re unraveling. He’s your best friend after all.

But even his quiet support isn’t enough to keep the emotions at bay.

Across the room, Yoongi’s eomma catches your eye. There’s something pitying in the glances she throws your way, a faint furrow of her brow that makes you want to sink into the floor. You had the feeling she knows there’s something between you and Yoongi, but now… now it feels like she’s seeing through you, like she knows exactly how small you’re starting to feel.

Because the truth is, you’re nothing.

You’re not Haneul’s mom. You’re not Yoongi’s girlfriend. You’re just someone who helps out when it’s convenient, and now that they have a nanny, you’re not even that. And it hurts. God, it hurts because you thought—maybe foolishly, maybe selfishly—that you were becoming something more. That you were becoming someone to them. That, maybe, you were becoming a family.

But now, as you stand there watching Yoongi carry Haneul to his room, barely sparing you a glance, the truth sinks in like a stone in your chest. You’re not someone. You’re a placeholder. A stand-in.

And pretty soon, just like Jiyong, they’re going to discard you. Because that’s what always happens. You’re always easy to leave behind. Always replaceable. Always useless.

The thought claws at you, and you suddenly can’t breathe. You grab your things and run. The cool night air stings your skin, but it’s nothing compared to the ache in your chest.

The tears come before you can stop them, hot and angry and full of every ounce of self-loathing you’ve tried to bury.

You glance back at the building. Maybe for the last time. You’re on the outside now—of course you are. You’ve been on the outside this entire time.

Namjoon must have noticed you were gone because he texted shortly after:

Joonie: You okay? Joonie: Don’t worry, I told them you weren’t feeling well. Go home and rest. Text me when you’re there.

That night, you ignored Yoongi’s call. You stared at the screen as his name lit up, your finger hovering over the answer button before you let it ring out. He left a voicemail. You deleted it without listening.

The next morning, you wake up to another call from him. This time, he doesn’t leave a voicemail. Instead, he sends a message.

Yoongi: Can I come over?

You stare at the text for a long time, your stomach twisting with guilt and anger and sadness. Finally, you type out a single word:

You: No

You throw your phone face-down on the couch, ignoring the way it buzzes again and again and again.

For the next few days, you ghost him.

It wasn’t easy. Every time your phone buzzes, you feel a pang of guilt, a deep ache that gnaws at your resolve. But you can’t bring yourself to answer. You need time. You need to figure out where you stood in all of this.

His messages come sporadically at first:

Yoongi: Hey, can we talk? Yoongi: I don’t know what I did wrong, but I want to fix it. Yoongi: Please. Just let me know you’re okay.

You delete most of them without reading too much into them. But then he starts sending pictures.

The first was of Haneul, grinning in his chair, wearing the capybara slippers you’d gifted him for his birthday.

Yoongi: Haneul misses you

The next day, another photo. This time, Haneul was lying on his playmat, still wearing the slippers, holding onto Bora.

Yoongi: Still missing you

Each message chips away at your resolve, but the one that breaks you comes Thursday evening:

A short video clip. In it, Haneul is sitting on the floor, babbling as he clutches Bora. And then, clear as day, he says it:

“Sa-ra.”

Your heart twists painfully. It’s clipped, but it’s unmistakably sarang. Your term of endearment for him, the nickname you’d called him since he started smiling every time he heard it. He’d never been able to say it back—not until now.

And Yoongi knows exactly what he is doing, sending this to you.

You stare at the screen for what feels like an eternity, leaving the video on loop, before finally opening your call log. His name was right at the top, of course. You hit the call button, your hands trembling as you bring the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” Yoongi���s voice comes through almost immediately.

You exhale shakily. “Hi.”

There was a pause. Then he speaks again, and you can hear his vulnerability. “I didn’t think you’d call back.”

You close your eyes, trying to steady yourself. “How could I ignore that video? Haneul… he said sarang.”

“Yeah, he’s been saying it non-stop since yesterday.”

You swallowed hard, gripping the phone tighter. “Yoongi… about… us.”

“Mmh?” He didn’t interrupt, didn’t rush you. He just waited.

“I’ve been thinking,” you began. “Haneul deserves to have a complete family. He deserves to know his mom, to have her in his life. If—if that’s what you both want.”

Yoongi was quiet for a long moment before he finally responded. “But… he needs you, too.”

Before you can back out, “Yoongi, I need space,” you say finally, your voice trembling.

There was a pause, and when he spoke again, his voice was quiet. “Okay.”

It wasn’t a protest. It wasn’t an argument. Just… okay. It’s the most ‘Yoongi’ reaction to things, and you hate it. You hate it so much.

You hang up, staring at the screen until it goes dark. Your chest felt heavy, your heart splintering in ways you didn’t know it could.

You’d told him you needed space and he said okay. The truth is, when you said space, you just wanted him to make room for you. To assure you that you belong with them. That there is a seat, warm and yours. But he didn’t.

You miss Yoongi so much it feels like a physical ache. But it’s not just him. You miss Haneul’s face, his giggles, his sleepy weight in your arms. 

Namjoon has been doing his best to check in. He sends you UberEats nearly every other day, a steady stream of meals you barely touch. The one time he came over, unannounced, he walked into what could only be described as a disaster.

“Jesus Christ,” Namjoon muttered, kicking a stray box out of his way as he entered your apartment. The laundry basket was overflowing, your trash can piled up. You were in a 2-day old shirt, hair a rat’s nest, and you’re slouched on the couch with an empty brain.

Namjoon stared at you, his disappointment radiating off him. “Y/N, you can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

“I’m fine,” you lied, barely looking at him.

He scoffed. “Fine? You look like you’ve been run over by a truck. Twice.”

“So dramatic.” You rolled your eyes, but the truth of his words stung.

Namjoon crouched in front of you, placing his hands on your knees. “Move in with me for now. You know I have the space. You can’t stay here like this. It’s not healthy.”

“I’m not moving in with you, Joon,” you said, shaking your head. “I’m not your charity case.”

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “You’re not a charity case. You’re my best friend. And I’m not gonna sit back and watch you drown in your own misery.”

“I’m not gonna live in your and Soyeon’s sex den,” you snapped unnecessarily.

Namjoon just looked at you, shook his head, before he flopped beside you on the couch. He fed you, forced you to go take a shower, and watched some shitty reality show with you. He eventually left, though you could feel the weight of his disappointment long after the door shut behind him. If he only knew how thankful you were of those visits.

A week later, you find yourself standing in front of Yoongi’s apartment. You didn’t plan this. You don’t even know what you’re hoping to achieve by being here. All you know is that the ache of missing them—missing him—has become unbearable.

You knock on the door before you can second-guess yourself.

Mrs. Kwon opens it, her expression immediately uneasy. “Y/N,” she says, her tone cautious. “You should come back another time.”

“Why?” you ask, your voice sharper than you intended.

She hesitates, her lips pressing into a thin line. “It’s just… not a good time.”

“I need to see them,” you insist, stepping forward.

“My dear girl, please listen—”

But you’re already past her, your determination overriding her warnings.

When you step into the living room–

Fuck.

There she is. Sung Kyung, sitting on the floor with Haneul in her lap, holding a plush toy you don’t recognize. She’s smiling at him, her voice soft as she tries to coax him into playing with it. Adding salt to the wound–Bora, the capybara plush you gave Haneul, is discarded carelessly in the corner near the diaper pail.

Your heart stops, and before you can control yourself, you take a step back, your movement catching Sung Kyung’s attention. She looks up, confused. She doesn’t know you, why would she? 

Yoongi’s voice comes from behind you, and you turn to see him emerging from his studio, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Who rang the—”

His eyes widen when he sees you, but you’re already moving, your feet carrying you toward the door in a blind rush.

“Wait—Y/N!”

You barely hear him as you bend down and snatch Bora from the floor. Haneul’s voice suddenly cuts through the air, his tiny, excited voice calling out, “Sa-ra! Sa-ra!”

Tears blur your vision as you wrench the door open and run, Yoongi’s voice calling after you, but you don’t stop.

It’s raining when you step outside. Great, because this day couldn’t get any worse. The cold droplets soak through your clothes almost instantly. You don’t have an umbrella, but you don’t give a shit. Tears stream down your face mixing with the rain.

You don’t know how far you get before you feel it—a warmth against your back, arms wrapping around you tightly.

Yoongi’s voice cracks as he says your name, his rain-soaked body like a furnace against your shivering frame. “Please.”

He sounds like he is begging, but why? What is he asking? What does he want from you?

You shake your head, your voice breaking. “This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come.”

“Then why did you?” he asks, his tone desperate, his chest heaving as he pulls you tighter.

“Because I thought… I thought I had a place here. But I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Don’t say that,” he pleads, his voice barely audible over the rain as he turns you to face him. His hands come up to cradle your face. He was starting to shake too, the pads of his fingers damp against your skin. His eyes search yours, desperate, and before you can stop him—or yourself—he closes the space between you and kisses you.

Against the pouring rain, your lips press against each other, clumsy, shaky, unexpectedly urgent. His lips move like he’s trying to say all the things he can’t find the words for, like this is his only way to make you understand. And for a second, maybe a minute, maybe more, you let him.

You feel his ragged breaths as he licks into your mouth, his hair brushing your temple, droplets trailing down your skin. His hand slides from your cheek to the nape of your neck, fingers threading gently through your wet hair. It’s tender and fierce all at once, like he’s afraid you might vanish if he lets go.

But there is a tinge of bitterness cutting through the taste of his kiss. This isn’t enough—not to fix everything, not to erase the doubt clawing at the edges of your mind. Not to prevent the new thoughts from worming its way inside.

Sung Kyung is in his apartment right now. So maybe it’s not just about Haneul anymore. Maybe they’re reconciling. Trying to sort out their own feelings that they put on ice. Yoongi did say he thought their relationship was going somewhere. 

God, you do not want to be some homewrecker. You cannot do that to Haneul. Weakly you try to pull back. 

But Yoongi doesn’t let you. His lips chase yours, teeth gently sinking into your plush and you’re unable to stifle the moan from your mouth at the delicious sting. You open up to him, lips sliding against his as his other hand grips your waist now, pulling you closer until you can really feel the heat of his body through the drenched fabric of his clothes. The world feels like it’s spinning, everything is blending into a dizzying blur, and you don’t know how to stop it.

Your hand hovers at his chest, not pushing him away but not pulling him closer either. Your heart is screaming to hold on just a little longer. But your head is telling you—

“No,” you whisper, breaking away as quickly as you can without slipping on the slick ground. Your chest heaves as you clutch Bora tighter against you.

Yoongi stands frozen, his lips parted as if he’s about to speak, his dark eyes locked on yours. The rain clings to his lashes, his hair plastered to his forehead, and for a moment, he looks completely lost.

“I can’t do this, Yoongi,” you choke out, your voice shaking. “I just… I can’t.”

And before he can stop you, you turn and run again, your feet splashing through puddles as you make your way to the nearest bus stop. By some miracle, you make your way home in one piece. Barring one vital organ that’s discarded somewhere in Hannam.

My tea's gone cold, I'm wondering why I Got out of bed at all The morning rain clouds up my window And I can't see at all And even if I could, it'd all be gray But your picture on my wall It reminds me that it's not so bad, it's not so bad - Stan, Eminem

Your apartment is cold and quiet, the soft patter of rain against the windows the only sound. The mug of tea on your table has long since gone cold, untouched, as you sit curled up on the couch, staring at that grainy selca Yoongi sent you weeks ago. 

You’re startled out of your thoughts by the sound of the door opening. Namjoon steps in, shaking off the rain and holding a grocery bag in one hand, his hoodie slung over his shoulder. He’s soaked to the bone, but he flashes you his dimples anyway.

“You know,” he starts, setting the bag on the counter, “for someone who always claims they’re fine, you sure as hell don’t look it.”

“Don’t start, Joon,” you mumble, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself.

Namjoon ignores you, glancing around the apartment with a disapproving look. “Seriously? It still looks like you just moved in. No decorations, no warmth. This part could be a photo wall or something…”

You roll your eyes. “Alright, Mr. Art influencer.”

“I need a dry shirt,” he says, gripping the edge of his tee and pulling it up and over his head without fanfare.

You’ve never felt attracted to your best friend in any physical or sexual way ever (seriously, ew), but you can appreciate a good physique when you see one.

“Wow, Joonie, are your tiddies getting bigger?” you say as you stand to find a shirt for him from your makeshift closet.

“You’re an idiot.”

Before you can respond, the doorbell rings. Namjoon straightens, wiping his hands on his pants. “You expecting someone?”

You shake your head.

Namjoon strides to the door, glancing through the peephole with a tsk before pulling it open. He doesn’t seem to care that he’s shirtless, which would be awkward enough if it were anyone else standing there. 

But it’s Yoongi.

Yoongi stands in the hallway, his expression strained, his eyes immediately scanning the room behind Namjoon until they land on you, curled on the couch. You clutch the t-shirt you were about to lend Namjoon tighter against your chest, unsure whether to feel relief, anger, or the painful longing that’s been gnawing at you for days.

“I need to talk to her,” Yoongi says, his voice calm but heavy with emotion.

Namjoon steps into the doorway, crossing his arms as he blocks the entrance. “Maybe not today, hyung.”

Yoongi’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t flinch. “I have to. I need to explain.”

Namjoon doesn’t budge, his voice soft but firm. “Sorry, hyung. Not after everything.”

Yoongi’s eyes flick to you again, desperate. “I just… fuck,” He swallows hard, his voice breaking slightly. “I can’t let her think she doesn’t matter to me. She does. More than anyone.”

Namjoon hesitates for the first time, glancing back at you. His expression softens briefly, but when he turns to Yoongi again, it’s your voice that responds.

“Yoongi.” Your voice is quiet, but it cuts through the tension like a blade. Both men turn to you, and the hope that flashes across Yoongi’s face makes your lungs shrivel.

You grip the fabric in your hands tighter, willing yourself to stay firm. “You should go.”

Yoongi’s lips part as if to argue, but the look in your eyes silences him. He nods once, slowly, his expression crumbling for just a moment before he turns away.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice so soft you almost don’t hear it.

Namjoon watches him for a moment longer before stepping back into the apartment and shutting the door.

The first step is always the hardest.

Namjoon didn’t sugarcoat anything when he told you to get your shit together. “I love you,” he said bluntly after Yoongi left that rainy night, “but you’re the only one who can pull yourself out of this. No one else is coming to save you. Not me. Not Jiyong. Not Yoongi. Just you.”

You hated hearing it, but he was right.

So you took the first step: you called a therapist. Twice a week, you sat in that tiny, clinical room and talked about everything you’d buried for years. The abandonment issues you’d carried since childhood. The shame you felt after your relationship with Jiyong fell apart. The way you constantly give pieces of yourself to others, just like you did with Haneul and Yoongi, leaving nothing for yourself. Thinking that’s okay.

Session by session, the fog began to lift. Slowly, you started to understand that happiness couldn’t come from someone else, no matter how deeply you loved them. It had to come from you—built piece by piece, nurtured, protected.

You realized that loving yourself wasn’t selfish. It was necessary. And for the first time in months, you began to believe you were worthy of it.

At home, you started small. One night, you finally tackled the pile of laundry that had been haunting you for weeks. Another night, you scrubbed down the kitchen until the counters gleamed. And then one weekend, you went to IKEA and bought a bed frame—not just a functional one, but a beautiful one that made you feel excited to wake up in the mornings.

You even hung up paintings on the walls, little pops of color that made the apartment feel like it was actually yours. Namjoon gave you some from his collection, too.

Running sucks, but it became your nightly ritual. At first, it was hard. Your legs ached, and your lungs burned. But the more you pushed yourself, the better it felt—the rush of endorphins, the rhythm of your feet hitting the pavement, the way your thoughts quieted for just a little while.

Bit by bit, you started to feel lighter. Like you were shedding layers of weight you didn’t even realize you were carrying.

And then there was Yoongi.

He was still a constant name on your phone, though the tone of his messages had shifted over time. At first, his texts were full of apologies and pleas for a second chance:

Yoongi: I know I messed up. Please let me make it right.

Yoongi: I’m sorry for everything. I hate that I hurt you.

Yoongi: I need you, Y/N. I should have told you sooner.

Yoongi: Can I come over? I really want to explain everything.

Yoongi: I’m an idiot.

Yoongi: I’ll wait for you. Just tell me when you’re ready to talk.

Then came the texts about Haneul:

Yoongi: Haneul misses you. Not to one-up my own kid, but I miss you more.

Yoongi: Han said your name today. He kept pointing at the door like he was waiting for you to walk in.

Yoongi: I bought him a new Bora. This giraffe is lame. [image attached]

Yoongi: Han’s been carrying Bora 2.0 everywhere. He even tried to feed it rice last night.

And now, weeks later, his messages had settled into something different.

Yoongi: I was in the studio all day, and Hobi made me take a break. We ended up eating too much fried chicken and now I have a zit.

Yoongi: How was your run today? Namjoonah says you’re joining a mini marathon. Good luck!

Yoongi: Still have boxes of Silver Moon tea. It’s too bougie for my ghetto taste buds. Lmk if you want it. Yoongi: Actually, no need. I'll send it thru Namjoonah.

Yoongi: I fucked up the choreography to our new track at Mubank today like an amateur. I hope you didn’t get to watch it.

They were simple, almost mundane. But Yoongi’s texts had a way of hitting you square in the chest. You think back to that conversation in his home, the one where he admitted how lonely he sometimes felt—how he wished for someone to talk to about the little things, the big milestones, everything in between. Someone to share life with. And now, with every message he sends, it feels like he’s choosing you.

Even though weeks have passed without seeing him, he’s still there. Reaching out. Trying to stay connected. Even when you never reply.

But his messages have become tiny bursts of dopamine in your otherwise quiet days. You’re both surprised and relieved he hasn’t stopped trying, that he hasn’t grown tired of pouring himself into the void of your Kakao.

Namjoon told you recently that Yoongi and Sung Kyung have started co-parenting Haneul. She gets supervised visits twice a month. At first, the green-eyed monster threatened to come out. But your best friend tells you that Yoongi never wanted to rekindle anything with Sung Kyung, which gave you some peace. Maybe if you’d been braver back then, you could’ve asked Yoongi yourself. Maybe if Yoongi had been better at communicating, he would have told you then it wouldn’t have felt like such an uphill climb.

But, he was also having such a difficult time, sorting through his own circumstances. And your insecurities at the time were too heavy, too overwhelming to sift through. You probably wouldn’t have believed him then. The progress you’ve made now—to love yourself first—feels hard-won and necessary. And maybe Yoongi also needed to go on a journey to really know what he wants for him and Haneul.

You’ve come to realize through all this that you don’t really hate Sung Kyung. Maybe you were angry on behalf of Yoongi and Haneul for all the secrets she kept, for the ways her choices hurt them both. There was even a night when you found yourself doing a Naver search on postpartum depression. You hadn’t understood how debilitating it could be, how it could turn even the strongest person into a shell of themselves. It didn’t excuse everything, but it gave you perspective, especially as you battle your own demons.

Still, as you journey forward, there are moments when you imagine the “what ifs” with Yoongi, if Sung Kyung hadn't showed up that day. Sometimes, late at night, your mind drifts back to him. You replay his kiss, remembering the way it felt, the way he tasted. You can still conjure the image of his face under the rain, the way he looked at you in that fleeting, heart-wrenching moment.

You wonder if he thinks about it, too. You know he’s waiting. You just hope that when you’re finally ready to let him back in, he’ll still be there—on the other side, willing to try again.

One evening, Namjoon called, his tone unusually excited. “Hey, I’ve got something for you.”

“No, I don’t need more lube, I’m stocked,” you joked, just to be a piece of shit.

“Shut up and listen,” he said, laughing. “Hybe’s opening a daycare for employees’ kids. They need someone to run it. You’re perfect for this.”

Your stomach flipped. “What? Joonie, I don’t even—”

“Don’t even try to argue,” he interrupted. “You have a degree in early childhood education. You love kids. This was your literal job in the states. C’mon, this is made for you.”

“What if I’m not ready?”

Namjoon sighed. “You are. I’ve seen how much work you’ve been putting in. You’re stronger than you think. Just… apply. The worst they can do is say no.”

You’re quiet, so he added. “...and they won’t. I’ll have each member of Bangtan sign a recommendation letter for you.”

“You’re too much, Joonie,” you laugh. But you surely won’t put it past him to do that. “But ok, I’ll apply.”

So you did. And a week later, you got the call.

Your first day at Hybe’s daycare center feels like a dream you didn’t know you had. The space is beautiful—sunlight streams through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm glow over the colorful toys, tiny tables, and pastel murals. There are only three kids who pre-registered, but you were expecting more to walk in.

Namjoon is there, truly your ride or die, sitting casually on your desk with his ever-supportive grin. “You nervous?” 

“Nope,” you say, trying to sound confident. But the way your voice wavers gives you away.

Namjoon chuckles. “Relax. You’re going to crush this.”

Before you can respond, the door swings open, and in walks Hobi with Yunjin and their toddler, Jeongyeon. The little girl looks adorable in her sunflower-patterned overalls, her tiny pigtails bobbing as she walks toward the play area.

“Jeongyeon, say hi to teacher Y/N,” Yunjin says, gently guiding her forward.

“Hi!” Jeongyeon squeaks.

You crouch down to her level. “Hi, Jeongyeon! You’re gonna have so much fun today.”

“First kid of the day, ayeeee!" Hobi says, high-fiving Yunjin, before she runs to Jeongyeon who is mounting the toy pony. Then he turns to you, “Congratulations, Y/N.”

Just as they’re leaving, Namjoon nudges you. “By the way, did you know there’s a capybara mascot today?”

“What?” you blink, confused.

Before Namjoon can explain, something soft and warm suddenly envelops you in a hug. You turn to see a capybara mascot wrapping its plush arms around you, its giant head tilted adorably to the side.

“What the…” You laugh, surprised, grasping its arm. “Hybe really went all out, huh?”

Namjoon smirks. “Of course. First-day activations are a big deal here. And look at that, your favorite animal. What a coincidence.”

You grin, stepping back to look at the mascot. “Guess I’m a little biased, but this might be the cutest thing ever.”

The mascot gives you an exaggerated thumbs-up. 

Shortly, Haneul arrives. The moment you see him toddling through the door, all your nerves, all the weight you’d carried for weeks—gone. There’s no ache, no tension. Just pure, uncomplicated happiness.

His nanny, a kind older woman, walks him in, holding his hand as he peers curiously around the room.

Haneul bounds toward you giggling, his gummy smile stretching wide as he lets go of the nanny’s hand and waddles toward you.

“Hi, sarang,” you say, crouching down to scoop him into your arms. He smells like baby lotion and sunshine, and your chest feels full as he buries his face in your shoulder. “I missed you.”

You glance toward the door, your eyes darting around instinctively, but there’s no sign of Yoongi. A small pang of disappointment settles in your stomach before you shake it off. He’s probably holed up in his studio, working on something brilliant. It would have been nice to see him though.

The capybara mascot wanders over, drawing Haneul’s attention instantly. His eyes light up as he points at it, giggling.

“Appa!” Haneul says excitedly, punching the knee of the mascot with his tiny fists.

You laugh, brushing a hand through his soft hair. “That’s not your appa, Haneul. He’s probably in one of the big studios upstairs working very hard right now.”

The mascot gives you a pat on the head, and something about its movements feels oddly familiar. But you don’t dwell on it, too caught up in Haneul’s delighted squeals as the mascot does a little dance for him. It sure loves to shake its ass.

For the rest of the morning, you’re in your element, guiding the kids through activities, wiping tears, and singing songs during circle time. Every so often, Haneul points at the mascot and calls out “Appa!” again, and you can’t help but laugh.

And if the capybara mascot seems to hover a little longer around Haneul, or if it lingers near you whenever there’s a chance, well… you just chalk it up to coincidence.

(One day, much later, you’ll find out the truth. But for now, you’re content not knowing.)

That night, your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you pull it out to find another message from Yoongi.

Yoongi: Congratulations on your first day!

You stare at the screen, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. For the first time in weeks, as you look at your thread of messages from him, you let yourself smile—a small, cautious smile, but a smile nonetheless. And for the first time in months of radio silence, you type up your first reply to him.

You: Thanks, Yoongi. I’m really happy. :)

His reply came almost immediately.

Yoongi: You deserve it

And it may have taken a while, but you finally believe that. So you decide you are also finally ready to do this.

You: Can we talk? Yoongi: giv me 10 mins im cming overr

:)

A/N: 

Alright!! Wheeeew! You good? How are you feeling?!?!? As usual, please sound off in the comments. 💕

I just want to say that am so proud of this chapter. I think I wrote my best, angst work here. Plus - Kissing in the rain? Namtiddies? A taste of smau? Hee hee. 🤗 

If you make it to here, thank you so so much for reading this story, you lovely, beautiful, human! xo

Part 4 is coming uppp and it’s gonna be a doozy~ 🤭

P.S. As some of y’all know I am a mom and I have experienced post-partum depression before. It was nowhere near the severity of how it is depicted here (a condition that is grave and rare because the character also has other mental struggles), but I empathize. I cannot imagine being truly unfit to care for my own baby. So I request that we do not vilify L&L! LSK. She fucked up real baddd, she could’ve involved Yoongi earlier, etc etc but again she is trying to do better. Plusss, it needs to be said, she does not want Yoongi. Gasp. Y’all can rest easy. He’s yours! 💕

& If you want to read more of my work, please check out my masterlist. & If you enjoy my work and want to buy me a ko-fi, I'd appreciate it.

Taglist:

@yoongznme @nnybtitts08 @rinkud @nbjch05 @perfectiondazesworld

@marnz1990 @mxrauds @queenbloody @jadestonedaeho7 @futuristicenemychaos

@direnediane @glossdebut @maryhopemei @theresstardustinmyblood @mggv97

@wobblewobble822 @kam9404 @supernoonanyc @damn-u-min-yoongi @ot72025

@busanbby-jjk @granataepfelchen @jajabro @tarahardcore @marihoneywk

@ryryvna @tea4sykes @mar-lo-pap @lilkittenjenjen

@captainchrisstan @thelittlecatonthecake

@flaneuseonthestreets @sexytholland @diamonddia-mond

@yronathaniel @as-hs-blog @amarssfanfic @mafersame @amarawayne

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@jkkkkkay @chimmisbae @angellekookie @jovanaprime @txtsoobean @joonlovely

@kookiewithluv @soop-sprite @hyukaluve

[natalievoncatte]

“What if we don’t go back yet?”

It was a peculiar question that Lena asked, but a compelling one. She was currently lying with Kara, or rather *on* Kara, after the Kryptonian caught her once again. Kara had slipped under as she fell and cushioned the fall with her invulnerable body, and they currently lay in the wreckage of a sailboat along the docks, the ruined and smashed vessel bobbing gently in the ocean.

“What do you mean?”

“Alex and the crew can get the guy,” said Lena.

She was referring to the second-rate wannabe villain that had tossed Lena off the roof as a ploy to distract Supergirl and cover his escape. It had worked, of course, with Kara abandoning her manhunt to catch Lena. As she always did. That was apparently why he kidnapped her in the first place instead of, who knows, maybe robbing banks in a town without a superhero.

It didn’t seem to matter much now. Kara was warm and had wrapped them both up in her cape, and Lena’s head lay pillowed on her shoulder. Kara curled around her, breathing gently into the crown of her head.

“Why wouldn’t we go back?”

“I’m tired,” Lena murmured, giving the words more truth than she meant to. She was tired, so tired. She could sleep for a thousand years here, lying with Kara.

This always went the same way. Kara would bear her to safety like a knight in shining armor and set her down and then she’d step back.

The contact would end.

It’s not like they never touched- they hugged and kissed each other on the cheek even, and Lena secretly treasured that, but it wasn’t enough. It was different when Kara rescued her.

If physical touch was Kara’s love language, the way she held Lena after a rescue was a kind of Freudian slip. These embraces were more, just more in a profound, indescribable way.

She was always so tender, after. She would sweep the hair from Lena’s eyes and just touch her for the sake of it, running the pad of her thumb along Lena’s jawline or hugging her extra tight, extra close, fearful and yet utterly fearless.

Much as she was holding Lena now.

“I know,” Kara whispered.

She did know. If there was anyone truly in tune with her needs, it was Kara. Kara cared, so fully, so deeply, so recklessly that Lena could barely understand it, and scarcely believe it.

“I want to stay here with you.”

Kara tensed slightly, throat bobbing as she swallows and her breath caught.

“What I want more than anything is just time to be us,” Lena said, very softly. “You and me. No company, no DEO, no adventures, no crises. I could just lay with you here forever.”

Kara was quiet, gently working her fingers through Lena’s hair.

“I’ve thought about things like that.”

“What sort of things?”

She was quiet for too long a beat, then said, “just us being us, alone. No game night, no movie night, no brunch, no Noonan’s, just this. Just you and me and… and relaxing.”

“Cuddling, you mean.”

Kara shifted herself, gave Lena a little squeeze.

“I don’t want to go either. I don’t want to let go of you.”

Lena opened her eyes and looked at Kara, at her golden hair fanned out around her head and her questioning blue eyes.

“So don’t.”

Gently, carefully, Lena freed an arm and rested a palm against Kara’s cheek. Her skin was always so warm, so lusciously soft. Kara was watching her intently, eyes searching.

“I think it’s customary, after the brave her saves the girl, that the hero gets a kiss.”

Kara tensed, clearly nervous. It was the most adorable thing Lena had ever seen.

She kissed her.

Kara was stone still at first, barely responding, then something seemed to awaken in her and she kissed Lena back, intensely. Lena was a little shocked at the sudden way Kara almost seemed to lunge into her, how her hands suddenly moved and she took Lena by the hips.

It was amazing. Her heart fluttered and her head was swinging and she felt a cold shock-

“Kara! The boat is sinking!”

With the most annoyed sigh, Kara stood and lifted Lena into a bridal carry. Water was gurgling up around them.

“Alex is going to kill me,” said Kara.

“Alex can wait,” said Lena. “Take me home.”

[ask-inspector-adventure2]

Horus: well, since he has broke himself out I believe we should have a trial but first what do you suggest?

Inspector: hmm, I could go find him and bring Apophis to the trial what we should do with him either give Apophis to change his ways of not doing anything evil which means not going after Ra trying to swallow up the sun bringing forth eternal darkness around the world or my second chance just lock him back up with better shackles and stronger chains

Sobek: change his ways, inspector I don't know if you got sand in your ears but Apophis can't be trusted he's a evil Demon Cobra God and he could do much worse things with his powers

Set: he has a fair point there, let's not get to cocky about he can hypnotize anyone with his majestic eyes but most of all he has deadly poison in his fangs he also can control anyone that worships him and turn them into his snake army

Horus: exactly, are you sure inspector that you want to do that think carefully if you let Apophis change his ways the sooner he turns his back on you it's over

Inspector: I understand what your talking about and trust me I've been through with many evil Demon's but I did once made a promise to one God The King of the skies Zeus was his name and he told me to keep a closer eye on two demons Rampage and Traffic but I didn't keep my promise I let them go so give me a chance to talk with Apophis and if I can convince him to changing his ways then perhaps you guys won't have to deal with him anymore he'll be my responsibility from now on

-this got them to think about it that way Ra had made up his mind-

Trying the inflation H2O:

This is... New..

Don't worry it's water

[mwuaferrari]

FERRARI GIRL - LANDO NORRIS

summary: at carlos sainz's birthday party, lando meets a captivating woman who is part of carlos' close circle of friends. Instantly struck by her warmth and confidence, lando finds himself drawn to her in ways he doesn't fully understand.

pairing: lando norris x reader

warning: english is not my native language, so any spelling or writing error is the fault of the translator hehe.

I´M BAAAAACK

The place was alive with energy, music echoing through the spacious villa and laughter spilling out into the night air. Carlos’ birthday celebrations were in full swing, and his closest friends and family mingled effortlessly, drinks in hand and smiles on their faces.

She arrived late, fashionably so, stepping through the wide-open doors with a casual confidence that immediately drew attention. Carlos spotted her from across the room and waved her over enthusiastically, his arm slung over the shoulders of another friend.

“¡Por fin llegas!” (you finally arrive!) Carlos exclaimed, greeting her with a tight hug. “Ya estaba pensando que te olvidaste de mi cumpleaños” (I was starting to think you’d forgotten my birthday)

“Jamás” (never) she replied, grinning. “Me atrasé por el trabajo, pero sabes que no me lo perdería por nada” (Got held up at work, but I wouldn’t miss this.

He introduced her to the group around him, most of whom she already knew, except for one. Lando Norris.

Lando was mid-sip of his drink when Carlos gestured toward him. “And this is Lando—he’s part of the family now, I guess. You probably know who he is.”

She turned to him, her smile widening in recognition. “McLaren´s golden boy?”

Lando chuckled softly, setting his glass down. “Guilty as charged,” he said, holding out a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” She shook his hand, her grip firm but friendly. There was something about her that caught him off guard—a mix of confidence and warmth, paired with a sparkle in her eye that made him forget for a moment how to speak.

Carlos, blissfully unaware of the silent exchange, clapped Lando on the back. “Don’t let him fool you; he’s way more interesting off the track than on it.”

She raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “Oh? Care to elaborate?”

Lando blushed slightly, waving off Carlos’ teasing. “Don’t listen to him. He’s just trying to embarrass me.”

Carlos laughed and turned his attention back to the group, leaving Lando and her to chat.

“So,” she said, tilting her head slightly. “What’s it like being part of the ‘family’ Carlos talks about? He’s so annoying, isn’t he?”

Lando relaxed a little at her lighthearted tone. “Oh, you have no idea. But I guess he’s worth the chaos. What about you? How do you survive being in this group?”

“Years of practice,” she replied with a mock-serious expression. “It’s all about knowing when to dodge Carlos’ pranks and when to just give in.”

Lando laughed, the sound genuine and warm. “I’ll keep that in mind. Any other survival tips?”

“Plenty,” she said, her smile teasing. “But you’ll have to stick around long enough to learn them all.”

Lando felt his heart skip a beat at her words, though he quickly tried to mask it with a confident grin. “Challenge accepted.”

They continued talking, the noise of the party fading into the background as they delved into an easy, flowing conversation. For the first time in a while, Lando found himself genuinely captivated—not by a race, not by a victory, but by someone who seemed to see him as just another guy at a party.

And as the night wore on, he couldn’t help but think this might be the best birthday party he’d ever attended—not because of the celebration itself, but because he’d met her.

…

The days following Carlos’ birthday party felt like a blur for Lando. Between training sessions, media obligations, and sponsor meetings, his mind was on autopilot. Yet, every now and then, a thought would creep in, derailing his focus entirely: her smile.

It wasn’t just her smile, though. It was the way she spoke with an ease that put him at peace, the way she teased Carlos as though she’d known him forever, and the way her eyes seemed to hold a quiet depth, as if she understood the world in ways others didn’t.

He found himself scrolling mindlessly through his phone one evening, laying on the couch in his apartment, the TV murmuring in the background. His thumb hovered over Carlos’ contact. Should I? he thought. Asking for her number felt… bold. Presumptuous, even.

“Mate, just do it,” he muttered to himself, groaning as he dropped the phone onto his chest. “It’s not a big deal.” Except, to him, it was.

After another ten minutes of mental back-and-forth, Lando sat up abruptly, picking up his phone again and tapping Carlos’ name. He typed a message, erased it, typed it again, and then sighed heavily before hitting send.

Lando: Hey, Carlos. Random question, but do you think you could give me your friend’s number? The one from your party? No worries if not.

The response came quicker than expected.

Carlos: Which one? You mean y/n?

Lando’s pulse quickened.

Lando: Yeah, her. If it’s okay with her, of course.

Carlos didn’t reply right away, and in that silence, Lando second-guessed every choice that had led to this moment. He was about to follow up, maybe even backpedal entirely, when his phone buzzed.

Carlos: She said it’s fine. Here you go…

Lando stared at the screen, his heart doing an odd little flip. She’d said yes. That had to be a good sign, right? He copied the number into his contacts, hesitating again as he stared at her name.

What should he say? Something casual? Something funny?

After a moment, he typed out a message and hit send before he could overthink it any more.

Lando: Hey, it’s Lando. Carlos gave me your number, hope that’s okay. I just thought it’d be nice to keep in touch.

The seconds ticked by, and he was already regretting his choice of words when his phone buzzed.

Y/n: Hey! Of course it’s okay. I was wondering when I’d hear from you.

Lando let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, a grin spreading across his face. Maybe this wasn’t so scary after all.

…

Lando was lounging on the plush sofa in McLaren's team lounge, his legs stretched out lazily as he typed away on his phone. A small, content smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he read her latest reply.

Y/n: Wait, so you actually thought pineapple on pizza was a good idea?

He chuckled softly, quickly firing back a reply.

Lando: Listen, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. Elite taste buds only.

He could almost picture her rolling her eyes as she typed her response, and the thought made his grin widen.

“Alright, mate. Who’s got you looking like that?” Max Fewtrell’s voice cut through Lando’s bubble, teasing and curious.

Lando jolted slightly, instinctively locking his phone screen as if he’d been caught doing something incriminating. “What are you on about?” he asked, trying—and failing—to sound nonchalant.

Max plopped down on the sofa beside him, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t play dumb. You’ve been sitting there smiling at your phone like some lovesick teenager for the last ten minutes. Spill.”

“I’m not—” Lando started, but Max gave him a knowing look, arms crossed, waiting. Lando sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Fine. It’s just... someone I met recently.”

Max’s face lit up with excitement. “Ah-ha! I knew it. Who is she? Is she fit? Of course she’s fit—she’s got you giggling like an idiot.”

Lando groaned, trying to dodge the interrogation. “Can you not make this a thing? It’s not a big deal.”

“Oh, it’s a thing,” Max countered, grinning. “So, where’d you meet her? Tell me everything. What’s her name? Does she know you’re you?”

Lando rolled his eyes, but there was no real irritation behind it. “She’s a friend of Carlos’,” he admitted reluctantly. “We met at his birthday party.”

Max leaned back, nodding approvingly. “A friend of Carlos’. Okay, solid start. So, what’s the game plan? When are you seeing her again?”

“Don’t know yet,” Lando said, glancing back at his phone when it buzzed. Her latest message lit up his screen.

Y/n: You’re lucky you’re funny, Norris. I’ll let this pineapple thing slide….for now.

The smile returned to his face before he could help it.

Max smirked. “Mate, you’ve got it bad. Just don’t screw it up, yeah?”

Lando shook his head, chuckling. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Max.”

Max gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Anytime, lover boy. Anytime.”

…

Then the day came. After weeks of messaging and playful banter through their phones, he was finally going to see her again. Lando had tried not to think too much about it, but now that the moment had arrived, he felt the same nervousness he had when they first met at Carlos's party.

The paddock was its usual whirlwind of activity, with mechanics, drivers, and journalists rushing around. She was leaning casually against a barrier, chatting animatedly with Carlos and another friend from their group. On her head, she wore a red Ferrari cap emblazoned with the number 55—a clear sign of her loyalty to the Spanish driver.

Lando spotted her from the other side of the paddock. His heart was racing faster than he’d like to admit. He had managed to greet her that morning with a barely audible “hi” before she turned her attention back to Carlos, and since then, he hadn’t been able to shake the thought of going up to her.

“Come on, mate, just go say hi. She won’t bite,” Max Fewtrell said, grinning as he toyed with a water bottle beside Lando.

“Easier said than done,” Lando muttered, scratching the back of his neck, trying to look distracted.

“For crying out loud, you’re a Formula 1 driver. You literally race at 300 kilometers an hour, and you can’t walk ten steps to talk to a girl? Pathetic.”

“She’s not just any girl,” Lando mumbled, his gaze inevitably drifting back to her. She was laughing at something Carlos had said, her smile lighting up the space around her—or at least that’s how it seemed to him.

Max let out an exaggerated sigh and gave him a friendly shove. “Then do something. Or I’ll go over there and tell her you’ve been standing here like an idiot, staring at her.”

“Don’t you dare!” Lando whipped around, alarmed.

Max burst out laughing, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Relax, mate. But seriously, don’t waste time. It’s not like Carlos is going to hand-deliver her to you. Make a move already.”

Taking a deep breath, Lando grabbed his orange McLaren cap from his back pocket and started walking toward her. Each step felt heavier than the last, like he was carrying the weight of the entire paddock on his shoulders.

By the time he reached her, she was still engrossed in her conversation, completely unaware of his presence. Carlos noticed him first, a knowing smirk spreading across his face.

“Hey, Lando. What are you doing just standing there?” Carlos teased, dragging out his words with obvious intent, clearly enjoying the moment.

She turned then, her eyes locking with Lando’s. “Oh, hi, Lando!” she greeted him with the same warmth she always did.

For a moment, Lando froze, his mind completely blank. Finally, he raised the orange cap in his hand. “I think you’re wearing the wrong hat.” Before she could react, he swiftly swapped her Ferrari cap for his McLaren one.

She blinked, momentarily stunned, before bursting into laughter. “Oh, really? Is this some kind of declaration of war?”

“Something like that,” Lando replied, scratching the back of his neck, feeling his cheeks flush. Carlos chuckled and walked away, leaving them to it.

She adjusted the orange cap, looking at him with a mix of amusement and curiosity. “Bad boy isn’t really your vibe, but I appreciate the effort.”

Lando relaxed a little at her laugh. “Well, someone had to save you from that awful red cap.”

“Awful?” she said, feigning offense, though her smile betrayed her. “I guess I’ll have to get my cap back by any means necessary.”

“Good luck with that.” Lando finally grinned, the initial awkwardness melting away bit by bit.

It was a small gesture, just a simple exchange of words, but in that moment, the noise of the paddock seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in the midst of the chaos.