#sometimes it is better to let go than to hold on

[santaasi]

obviously blind

pairing: james potter x bsf!fem!reader

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

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

word count: 11.3k

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

ᯓ★ now playing…

slaves – footprints

You left your mark on me like footprints in the snow

Would you promise me you'll never let me go

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A girl.

Not just any girl, but you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bloody hell,” Sirius muttered under his breath.

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

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

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

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

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

“Padfoot—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

James groaned, though his smile was fond.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was unbearable.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

March 30, 1975

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Never by name. Always darling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about me?”

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

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

Sirius frowned. “Why not?”

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

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

“Alright, what are you two plotting?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hopeless,” Sirius added, shaking his head.

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

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

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

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

Maybe love, real love, was something entirely different.

November 27, 1976

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

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

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

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

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

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

And James? Well, James wasn’t himself.

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

The idiot was besotted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then came the letters about Lily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The final letter undid him.

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

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

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

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

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

Balanced. Grounded. Sincere.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

FROM THE ARCHIVE OF SIRIUS BLACK:

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

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

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

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

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

thankx for reading <3

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

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

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

– your santi 🪐

masterlist

[yuujispinkhair]

I WANNA BE YOUR ENDGAME – Chapter 11

🏒❤️ A Hockey Romance feat. modern!Sukuna

Pairing: HockeyPlayer!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: College AU, Hockey AU, fluff + smut Playlist: I wanna be your Endgame Word Count: 4.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, cigarettes, alcohol. Fuckbuddies to lovers. Reader is a creative writing student. Sukuna is an ice hockey player + history student. This story will have approximately 14 chapters. Minors don't interact. Header by me. Divider @/benkeibear

MASTERLIST

You are deep in thought as you walk towards the ice hockey arena. Sukuna asked you to meet him there at ten for another private ice skating lesson. You can't help but grin because, yeah, you are certainly in need of more lessons. But it's a bit weird that he wants to meet up so late. You didn't even know the arena is still open at that time of night, but you won't question the guy who practically lives in the hockey arena. Plus, Sukuna is busy with his studies, hockey practice, and his insane workout schedule, so maybe this is the only free time he has this week.

In the end, it doesn't matter because who are you trying to kid? You would never say no when Sukuna wants to see you. Even if he knocked on your door at 3 a.m. and asked you to once again be his getaway driver for some prank on a rival team, you would grab your jacket and leave with him. You are down bad for your fuckbuddy, and you know it. And you will take every minute you can have with him for as long as it lasts.

Your grin turns into a bittersweet smile. You still can't figure out how Sukuna feels about you. Sometimes you think he likes you too. Like when he acted so jealous when Satoru tried to hit on you. Or when he smiles that rare smile at you and looks deeply into your eyes with that almost dreamy look in his maroon eyes.

But you don't know for sure. You could ask Sukuna, of course. Or you could confess how you feel. But the thing is, you are too scared. Too scared that you misinterpreted things. That you made more out of it in your fantasy than there really is. After all, it has happened before. Your mind is the mind of a writer. Someone who spends her life in her head. And maybe you once again mixed up reality with your fantasies.

So it's better not to do anything. Safer. Because you know that the moment you tell Sukuna you see more in him than your fuckbuddy, and he doesn't reciprocate those feelings, it will be over. And you aren't ready for that. Just the thought of losing him makes you drown in anxiety.

You reach the dimly lit small plaza in front of the hockey arena, and your heart jumps to your throat when you see Sukuna leaning casually against the closed entrance, smoking a cigarette while waiting for you.

He's dressed in grey sweatpants and a black hoodie under his equally black jacket. The glow of the cigarette he's bringing to his smirking lips lights up his angular jaw and his facial tattoos, and the light coming from the street lamp lets his pastel pink hair look almost like a halo on top of the bad boy's head.

Sukuna watches you with that cat-like and always slightly amused gaze, making your heart race like crazy. The effect he has on you is insane. You walk towards him with weak knees, feeling flustered and giddy, unable to stop yourself from smiling broadly.

Sukuna flicks his half-smoked cigarette elegantly onto the ground and crushes it with his Nikes. He grins at you, greeting you with that sexy, velvety voice,

"Hey, princess."

Sukuna reaches out to ruffle your hair and laugh that low, rough laugh when you squeal and pat his hand away even while you smile at him and wish you could just grab his hand and hold it and never let go again.

Sukuna's hand brushes over yours and then glides down your back until it comes to rest on the small of your back to pull you slightly closer. Sukuna's eyes trail slowly over your face. He licks his lips when his gaze lands on your mouth, and for a moment, you think he will kiss you, but then he smirks his typical cocky smirk and jerks his tattooed chin towards the large glass door behind him.

"Let's go. You keep watch while I get us inside."

"What? I knew something was wrong when you said to meet here at ten at night! We cannot break in!"

Sukuna laughs, and his smirk grows even wider,

"Technically, it's not breaking in if I have a key."

He pulls a keychain in the shape of a tiger head out of his jacket and lets it dangle from his long, tattooed fingers, presenting you with a single key glittering lightly in the light coming from the streetlamp.

You raise a suspicious eyebrow,

"Did you steal that key?"

"Nah, our coach gave it to me. Believe it or not, I am a trusted team member. Let's just say that when he gave me the key, he said it was for emergencies, and it's debatable whether our private ice skating lesson counts as an emergency. But who cares? I wanted to have the arena all to ourselves. Also, I am the fucking star player of this team, so I should be allowed in here anytime I fucking want."

Sukuna winks at you, and you shake your head incredulously at his typical display of arrogance. But at the same time, you can't help but laugh, and your heart jumps at the thought that Sukuna planned this. That he wanted to be alone with you. A secret night in the hockey arena. Just the two of you. It's romantic.

Sukuna slings his large hockey bag over one shoulder and unlocks the door. He holds it open for you, like a gentleman in an old movie, making butterflies flutter in your stomach as you enter. The door closes behind you, and Sukuna's tall body bumps gently into you, his low voice close to your ear,

"We have to keep the lights off, though, because I don't want the janitor to come to check what's going on."

He grins at you and takes your hand into his much larger one, interlacing your fingers and giving your hand a squeeze. Holding it just like you wished he would only a minute ago. Sukuna's voice is laced with amusement when he adds,

"Don't worry, princess. I got you. I would find my way through this arena even blind."

You chuckle softly, excitement tingling in your veins, your pulse racing so fast that you are sure Sukuna can feel it where your palms are pressed against each other.

Sukuna leads you down the dark hallway that's only lit by the emergency lights. The hockey arena seems ghostly like this, too dark and too silent. It would be creepy if you were here alone, but with Sukuna by your side and his hand holding yours, you feel completely safe.

Sukuna finds his way through the nightly hockey arena with ease, proof of how much time he spends here, all those countless hours of training and hockey games and team meetings. He brings you to the player's bench without any accident, turning around to grin proudly at you as he tugs you towards him and gently but firmly makes you sit on the bench.

The huge arena seems a lot smaller tonight when almost all the lights are off. The only light comes from the LED strips fixed to the boards around the rink. They cast the ice and the first few rows of the stands into a fairytale-like soft half-light. It makes your stomach flutter. Being here in the nightly hockey arena feels so intimate as if you and Sukuna are the only people in the whole world.

You steal a curious glance at Sukuna. He is pulling his hockey skates out of his bag and puts them on with routined moves, his long tattooed fingers tying the laces so gracefully that you find it impossible to look away.

Sukuna turns his head to smirk at you, catching you staring at him instead of putting on your own ice skates. But before you can get flustered, Sukuna is already getting off the bench and on his knees in front of you with that damn sexy smirk on his handsome face. He holds out a large hand while cocking his head,

"Come on, give me your foot, princess. I'll help you."

You feel so nervous suddenly. It's stupid because you are used to doing all kinds of other things with Sukuna that involve being a lot closer to him with a lot less clothing, and yet this here feels so strangely intimate.

You slip out of your sneakers and carefully place one socked foot in Sukuna's hand. He smirks a lopsided smirk and puts the ice skates expertly on your feet, kneeling before you the whole time while carefully lacing them up.

He takes his time, working focused while being so gentle and caring, and you can't stop looking at him, how he, the star player of the hockey team, kneels before you with his pink hair and pretty, tattooed face. You're hit with such an intense wave of longing that it almost makes you sob. You want to tell Sukuna you love him, want to tell him how much he and all your shared moments mean to you.

Your lips open, but no words come out, and you close your mouth again when Sukuna pats your leg and grins up at you,

"All done. Let's get on the ice."

He gets up, towering over you again, so tall and broad. He looks intimidating with his muscular, tall build and face tattoos, but you know him by now. It's funny, but Sukuna is the person you feel most at ease with. Even when your heart is pounding like crazy, just at the feel of his warm, calloused hands wrapping around yours and pulling you up from the bench and into his arms.

You can smell his cologne, that fresh, sexy scent that makes your head spin with want. You bite your lip, grinning up at Sukuna as you make the first tentative steps on the ice skates, your hands clinging tightly to Sukuna's. His hold on you is firm and safe as he leads you carefully to the ice.

You are still wobbly on the ice skates and not really confident you will stay upright for long, but you don't have to worry, you realize. Sukuna doesn't seem to plan on letting go of you tonight. He has one strong arm around you while his other hand holds yours safely, his long fingers interlaced with yours, offering a comforting warmth even here on the cold rink.

Skating across the ice with Sukuna is fun, just like it was the last time. He moves as if he is walking on normal ground, so skilled and sure on his hockey skates that you can't stop marveling at how graceful he looks. He gives you instructions, his low voice soft in the silent arena as if he doesn't want to disturb the serene atmosphere. And you laugh as you let him pull you along and try to get a feeling for the ice beneath your feet.

You do the second round across the rink, and Sukuna slowly pulls his arm that was around your waist away. He is skating next to you, holding your hand while his maroon eyes are on you, carefully checking if you are able to keep the balance without the added safety of his arm around you.

And to your delight, it works. You smile and make a triumphant noise as you skate next to Sukuna, only holding his hand, and he laughs, looking at you with one of his rare, dazzling smiles.

There's a softness in his eyes tonight as he watches you. It makes your pulse race and feel giddy and full of adrenaline. But the problem is that you are so distracted staring at Sukuna that you lose your focus and slip on the ice after all, squealing loudly as you lose your balance and are about to tumble down.

But Sukuna catches you, his muscular arms instantly wrapped safely around you, pulling you against him, making both of you glide back a few meters from the impact of your body slamming into Sukuna. Your squeal turns into breathless laughter as you cling to Sukuna's hoodie, holding tightly onto him.

Sukuna raises an amused eyebrow at you,

"So eager to get all cozy with me, huh, princess?"

His low voice is warm, and his maroon eyes are too, that same beautiful smile lifting his lips again as he gently holds you, his large hands sprawling over your waist, his eyes never leaving yours.

You chuckle, telling him in what you wanted to be a joking voice but which comes out all breathy,

"Maybe I like being all cozy with the 6'3" guy who is always warm, even on this freezing ice rink."

God, I sound like an idiot!

You bite your lip, fearing you will say more, and end up accidentally telling Sukuna how much you want him to be more than just your fuckbuddy. A nervous laugh escapes your mouth, and you feel your face get hot, but Sukuna grins that irresistible boyish grin at you, looking very smug.

"Then you're really a lucky girl because I plan to keep you warm all night, princess. Come on, I'll show you something."

Sukuna turns you around so you are in front of him and steers you slowly back to the bench, his strong hands resting securely on your hips, holding you, guiding you, every touch of his strong fingers sending the butterflies in your stomach fluttering like crazy.

Sukuna helps you exit the rink, his tall, firm body pressing against your back as he just lifts you off the ice so your feet are dangling a few inches above the ground and carries you to the bench while you giggle and smile.

Sukuna places you on the bench, not seeming to be out of breath at all from carrying you. But he eyes you for a moment with a strange look on his face, almost looking nervous, you think. He blinks and runs a large tattooed hand through his pink hair, averting his gaze and instead getting busy rummaging around in his hockey bag.

You watch him curiously, only to make an "Oooh!" sound when you see the surprise he prepared. Several boxes of his famous homemade snacks, two large thermal mugs, and a warm blanket. The last item Sukuna pulls out of his bag is a glass jar with a candle in it, which he lights and places on the bench one row before you, engulfing your little picnic space in soft, warm candlelight.

Your stomach is doing summersaults by now. All of this is so romantic! It makes you feel completely light-headed with all the thoughts running through your mind. This is what Sukuna planned when he asked you to meet him here at ten in the night? This doesn't feel like a regular ice skating lesson. It feels like a date!

You watch him carefully, feeling a bit shy as the implications of what this could mean fill your chest with giddy hope.

Sukuna grins at you and wraps the warm blanket around you, making things even cozier. And you smile and lean against Sukuna's broad shoulder, thanking him softly when he hands you a thermal mug with steaming hot coffee and a homemade muffin (the ones you told him a few weeks ago are your favorite).

You lift the blanket, telling Sukuna to join you so he stays warm, too. You both sip on your coffee and munch on the muffins, easily slipping into your usual camaraderie, joking around with each other and talking about your day. Sukuna brushes some muffin crumbs off your lips and tells you about his upcoming game and the current topic of his history research. And you lean comfortably against him, smiling when Sukuna wraps his arm around you while you tell him about the book you started reading this morning and the passive-aggressive insults your creative writing professor threw at people today.

You chuckle and sigh softly,

"Thank you for bringing me here. This is the first time today that I haven't felt anxious about my classes and my future."

And Sukuna smirks that hellishly attractive boyish smirk at you,

"Well, I'm glad that I'm providing you the same stress relief that you give me before my games. Look at us being the antidote for each other's stressful lives. We should drink to that."

You both laugh and hold up your thermal cups, clinking them gently, both grinning as you bring the cups to your lips and sip the warm coffee.

You stay like that for a while, leaning against each other under the warm blanket, sitting in comfortable silence while you gaze over the dimly lit ice rink before you. It feels magical.

Your heart is almost beating out of its chest, filled with such yearning that you think you will go insane if you don't do something about it. You slowly turn your head to gaze at Sukuna. Only to realize he is already looking at you. Your breath catches in your throat when your eyes meet his.

You think you can see fear in those beautiful maroon eyes. And you wonder if Sukuna feels the same fear that you feel. The fear of messing this up. The fear of losing what the two of you have. Maybe you aren't the only one who is scared of your feelings.

And yet you are here, just the two of you, in this romantic atmosphere. Not putting distance between you, but spending even more time together. Not running away from your feelings but running, or rather ice skating towards them hand in hand. Your heart flutters hopefully, just when Sukuna's low, velvety voice breaks the silence,

"I always enjoy being with you, no matter what we do. Whether we are talking about hockey or books or studying in the library, or having lunch together, or just talking shit while watching videos on my phone. I have never felt so close to someone before."

You gasp softly at the unexpectedly tender words. Tears well up in your eyes as you look up into Sukuna's eyes,

"I feel the same way. It's like I have always known you."

Sukuna smiles softly. He cups your face, his warm palm resting gently on the side of your neck while his thumb slowly caresses your cheek. A touch so tender as if he is scared to break you or disturb this soft atmosphere while he gazes deeply into your eyes.

You don't think anyone has ever been so gentle with you or looked at you that way. And out of all the people, it is him, it is Sukuna, the rough hockey player, the campus bad boy, who treats you with such gentleness.

"S... Sukuna."

Your voice is thick with unshed tears, but Sukuna shakes his head gently, low voice barely a whisper, raspy but full of tenderness when he says,

"No, let me say something, princess."

You nod, blinking to chase the tears away, and Sukuna continues in his velvety, low voice, his eyes gazing deeply into yours,

"I told you that ice hockey is my life. But that's only half the truth. Lately, you have become my life, too."

He gulps, making his adam's apple bop, and then adds in a soft but sure voice,

"I have never felt this way about someone before, and it scared me shitless when I realized what was happening. So I tried to suppress it. But I don't want to run from this anymore. I don't want to run from you when you are what makes me happy, and then I feel like I can't breathe when I imagine there could be a time when you aren't by my side. I didn't bring you here tonight to teach you ice skating. I brought you here to tell you I fell in love with you."

The whole world seems to stop. Everything around you disappears, and there is only Sukuna and you. Only the boy you love, and you. And everything is so perfect and easy.

Your tears finally spill over and slowly run down your face as you reach out to cup Sukuna's cheeks, too, caressing the tattooed lines on his high cheekbones as you smile at him, finally confessing how you feel about him,

"I'm in love with you, too. And it scared me also. I tried to pretend I didn't like you that way, but then you got injured, and it freaked me out so much, and after that, I couldn't lie to myself anymore. I knew you meant a lot more to me than I had planned. But I didn't want to lose you if you didn't feel the same. So I didn't say anything. I told myself it would be better to have you as a friend with benefits than not having you in my life at all..."

"Come here, princess."

Sukuna wraps his arms around you, pulls you into his lap, and hugs you tightly to him, his lips brushing a tender kiss to your forehead,

"I've never been in a relationship before, but I will work my ass off for this. I want this to work. I want you and me."

For once, there is no teasing smirk on his beautiful face. It's rare to see Sukuna like this, all open and honest with you, not hiding behind a mask. His maroon eyes are earnest, burning with the same fiery ambition he has when it comes to hockey and his studies. It makes your heart throb, seeing how invested he is. Seeing how much he wants to have this with you.

You wrap your arms around Sukuna's neck and lean closer to him,

"That's what I want, too. You and me."

A soft smile plays around Sukuna's lips before he closes the last remaining distance between you and claims your lips in a slow kiss.

You sigh, melting into the kiss and into Sukuna's arms. He takes his time, kissing you slow and deep, making your head spin and the butterflies in your tummy go crazy with each tender flick of his tongue.

It feels like an eternity until both of you pull away, breathing heavily, lips swollen from all the kissing, eyes so soft as you look at each other, both wearing the same perplexed expression as if you both can't believe this is really happening.

You smile at Sukuna so broadly that your cheeks hurt, and he laughs that soft, low laugh and smiles at you, too, brushing a thumb over your grinning cheeks before he puts his hands on your waist and lifts you off his lap, gently placing you on the floor so he can get up, too.

He holds out his hand to you, raising an eyebrow and grinning that sexy boyish grin at you,

"Join me for another round across the rink, princess?"

You nod and take Sukuna's hand, letting him pull you to your feet and against his tall, strong body. You place a hand on his chest, getting on your tiptoes to steal another kiss before Sukuna leads you carefully back onto the ice.

It's different this time. Not so much an ice skating lesson, where Sukuna lets you get a feel for the ice, but rather Sukuna taking the lead, pulling you with him, holding you safely in his embrace, skating across the dimly-lit rink much faster and more graceful than you could ever hope to do on your own.

It's not ice skating, but rather dancing, you realize. One of Sukuna's arms is wrapped safely around your waist, his other hand holding yours, his long tattooed fingers interlaced with yours, as he spins you around on the ice as if you are the Ice King and his Queen, and the hockey arena is your ballroom.

It feels incredible. As if you are weightless and flying across a glittery ice floor surrounded by soft light. You tilt your head back to look up at Sukuna's tattooed face, your gaze meeting his, and you see the smile in his eyes. It's only you and Sukuna. Only you and the boy you love and who loves you, too. Dancing in the nightly hockey arena. Sharing that magical moment in the place that is so important to Sukuna.

You let him spin you around without any fear, trusting him completely, knowing Sukuna will never let you fall. He already proved that the first time you met. He will never let you hit the ground. Those strong arms will always catch you.

You feel more tears run down your cheeks as you look up at Sukuna and smile at him, and he watches you enrapt, his cocky smirk replaced by a soft, wonderous expression.

"Why are you crying, princess?"

"Because I'm happy, baby."

You see how Sukuna's eyes widen at the use of the petname, and then his lips lift in a very happy and amused lopsided smirk,

"Baby? Hmm, I like it when you call me that. Make sure to do it very often from now on."

You chuckle softly as you nod,

"Sure, baby."

A second later, you squeal loudly because Sukuna makes another dance move, dipping you down while smirking his sexy, playful smirk at you. Your squeal turns into loud, breathless laughter that gets muffled by Sukuna's warm lips a second later. And he keeps kissing you, even while continuing to glide gracefully over the ice, not even needing to see anything.

You spend the whole night in the arena, just the two of you, alternating between dancing on the ice while laughing and kissing and sitting on the bench, cuddling under the warm blanket to keep warm while sipping coffee, talking about everything and nothing, joking around teasingly and stealing more kisses. Slow, deep French kisses that make both of you sigh softly into each other's mouth.

You sneak out of the hockey arena with the first hints of the approaching sunrise, walking to Sukuna's dorm while holding hands. You fall exhausted but happy into his bed. Your face comes to rest on Sukuna's buff pecs, your lips smiling against his tattooed skin as he wraps his strong arms around you and hugs you close to his warm, muscular body.

It's perfect. It feels so natural as if Sukuna and you have always been together as if it was always clear that things would lead to this, from the very first meeting in the hallway where you crashed into him, and his hockey reflexes and strong arms saved you from falling, only for both of you to end up falling in a different way. For each other.

THE LOVE CONFESSION 😭💗💗 I am so emotional! This is one of the first scenes I wrote for this AU, and for months, I have been daydreaming about dancing across the rink with Sukuna. Sighhhhhh I hope you liked it, too, and could feel the same magic I felt while writing it!

Also, please listen to the song "Black Coffee" by Nightly. It's the song that I imagine during the scenes in the hockey arena. It's a perfect song to describe Sukuna's and Reader's connection. I love them so much together.

Thank you so much to everyone who is still here reading this story and waiting for updates! It means so much to me that you are on this journey with Sukuna and me 💗💗

I hope the love confession could put a smile on your face!! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

In the next chapter, we will see Sukuna and Reader officially dating and making their relationship public. Learning how to move from fuckbuddies to being boyfriend and girlfriend.

[cherry-hulu]

greetings...i respectfully would like to place down my 2 cents for diamond life

reader is hard at work under the desk in woozi's studio, whenever a member-specifically shua and minghao or honestly whichever member wants to blow off some steam while recording, all woozi has to do is pull them off him, hold them by the hair and let said member go nuts...the sadists that they are 🤐

— Accelerando!

Warnings: woozi x free use!reader x joshua x the8, cockwarming, oral (m receiving), tears, gagging, lots of cum, voyeurism, filming

More like this... Diamond Life : The Series

Recordings can either be the smoothest sailing days or the harshest battles against the flow. Sometimes it would be over in a few hours, sometimes it could take up the whole day.

When the members said Woozi practically lived in his Universe Factory, they meant in. He even had his own foldable bed in it and everything. All his amenities at one place for his comfort.

Out of all the members, Woozi would argue that he benefited from you the most. He had always loved the idea of cockwarming, especially while he worked on his chair. The idea of someone keeping his cock warm and hard while he made music was magical.

You sat under his desk, legs crossed, eyes closed, head resting on his hard muscle packed thigh, mouth occupied with his heavy thick dick in your mouth. You may seem at rest but your tongue definitely wasn't. Occasionally moving, licking the veins from the sides of his cock. Throat constricting at carefully calculated times.

"Lets do one more run towards the end. I wasn't satisfied with the last part, I think both of you can do more." Woozi spoke, his fingers pressing on the button talking to Joshua and Minghao who was in the booth recording for a duet.

Minghao sighed and nodded, Joshua just held his headphones in understanding. The two calmest members of the group, but the last person they'd want to piss off. An enigma of the saying 'The calm before the storm.'

The two went for a few more rounds in the studio, before slowly, the frustration started creeping in, tension building up in the booth until it was showing in their voices.

Truth is, Woozi was doing this on purpose, he believes that there's no better view than you choking and crying on a dick. He would always do it to you, loving the bulge his cock would imprint on your throat, the way your glassy eyes look up at him showing no signs of thinking, completely dumb and cock drunk.

As much as he loves seeing it in first person, he can't help but wonder what it'd look like in second. The boys really have spending alot more time together, Seungkwan's enthusiasm over exhibitionism was starting to get to him.

"Hyung.. I don't think I can do it anymore, it's getting overwhelming. We've been here for hours repeating the same line over and over again. I need a break." Minghao complained, ever so well thought out and collected, but his body language says otherwise. He looked stiff, eyes tired and basically begging for rest.

"I agree, I think it would be better for us to have a break and recollect ourselves, maybe it's the exhaustion that's causing the bad outcomes." Joshua nodded, looking back and forth between his friends.

You open your eyes at the sound of their voice, looking up to Woozi with a hopeful look. He told you of his plans asking for consent, and you eagerly nodded not even a second after the words left his mouth making him chuckle and call you a slut.. which you ultimately got heated up over, and no, you didn't beat him to death, but your pussy may say otherwise.

The pale man was silent for a minute as if he was thinking, before ultimately agreeing and letting the boys out. As the duo leave the booth, Woozi pulls his dick out of your mouth making your saliva drip all over the floor and off his dick.

Rolling his chair to the side, he reveals you to the boys, looking pretty all wet and open wide for the two. "It would be better for you two to release your frustrations rather than have them bottled up, 'no?" Woozi said, dick standing up and and as proud as himself for his plan execution.

"Yeah, definitely." Joshua sighed, pulling his dick out of his pants, getting harder and harder each passing second as you crawl on your fours to get to him. He gives his dick a few strokes before shoving himself in all the way in your mouth.

Joshua, Seventeen's Gentleman, was nothing like the man the public perceives of him. He was anything but gentle, always leaving you bruised and nearly unconscious after fucking you. Cuffing you down, pressing you hard against the bed, everything but being gentle.

Minghao was silent, but he wasn't non threatening, situating himself behind you, his focus immediately zeroed in on your exposed cunt. You were wearing only a thin oversized shirt — probably from Mingyu — and nothing else. What was the point of wearing under wear when it's just gonna be put aside anyways?

The chinese man was known for his relentless and often unfiltered mouth. He wasn't any different in sex, seemingly having developed an oral fixation on your pussy, always eating you out whenever given the chance to. He usually starts off slow, before adding his fingers, and going feral using you.

Your whimpers were muffled by the dick inside your mouth, heavy and big. Joshua surprisingly was starting off slow as well, probably due to the younger kneeling behind you. But his pace doesn't stop him from going rough. Giving you deep, hard thrusts, that have your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Tears were already rolling of your face, muted gagging sounds emmited from you as he sensually fucked your mouth as if it was your cunt.

Woozi felt like he was in a real life porno. Sitting like a king in his chair with his legs in a manspread, slowly jerking off his hard on. From his perspective, the bulge on your mouth was extremely evident. Him and Joshua were pretty similar in girth, having only an inch difference in length.

From behind you, Minghao was finally starting to quicken his pace. Slender fingers now toying with your cunt, tongue lapping and licking all over you resulting in nasty slurping sounds. He didn't knew whose cum was mixxed with yours, but whoever it was, his diet must be healthy for it to taste this good. Or maybe it was just your magic.

His tongue slides in and out of you, practically cleaning you up to get you ready for a fresh new batch of cum inside of you.

Joshua was now collecting your hair and putting it up in a pony tail, his big hands giving him no struggle with the task. You mentally prepare yourself as this was his ritual before losing all his mercy on you. He groaned as he gives you a deep hard thrust, before pulling out and pushing back in, this time with a much faster, deeper, pace.

Minghao moves his face away from your cunt, opting to finger you instead. His dick was getting painfully hard, having been ignored for too long. His patience runs thin when he's horny.

Finally taking his dick out, he pushes in inside of you, immediately matching with his hyungs pace in a way that he was in fucking into you at the same time Joshua was. Two dicks pressing deeply inside of you at the same time, at the same intervals.

You sounded and looked like a mess. Torn between gagging and moaning. Your face was flushed, full on crying now. Had it not been for Joshua in front of you, your face would be on the floor planted flat right now.

Woozi was shamelessly jerking off while watching the whole thing. His mind has orchestrated alot of masterpieces throughout his life, this was no doubt one of them.

"Agh.. fuck." Joshua strangled out as he came in your mouth, forcing your face into his dick, nose pressing against his pelvis. He was a heavy heavy cummer, emphasize on heavy if it hadn't been yet. Always leaving you full or choking even more on his cum, not just his dick.

Sweat was dripping of his forehead as he look down on you, panting with veins visible all over his arms and face. "Good girl, good job. Take it all. All of it." Joshua praised in a husky voice, clearly worn out from todays activities. But no matter how tired he was, he would never pass out on your hole.

Minghao followed soon after, filling up your other hole with his own cum. He rocks his hip back and forth into you creating a ring of cum around his dick. "Hyung.. look at this." Minghao called out, eyes focused on where the two of you connect.

It was all Woozi needed for him to cum as well. Cursing under his breath as a string of cum spurts out his dick, landing all over his chair, shirt, and even on the floor.

Joshua reached out to his back pocket for his phone. Opening the camera, he hit the record button making surs to catch your face in the frame.

Slowly, he pulled his dick out of you, a flow of his cum dripping out of your mouth. You were panting like a dog, eyes blown out, all fucked out to realize that there was a camera in front of you. Joshua pressed a thumb on your tongue, prompting you to open up more.

He dragged his thumb from your tongue to your lip, spreading cum all over. Angling his phone to where it catches the both of you, he pulled you into a kiss, tasting and cleaning his cum from your mouth. Tongues lapping all over each other, dirty sounds coming from the two of you. Alternating between open mouth kisses to French kissing.

"Fuck, hyung." Minghao whispered when he felt his dick getting hard again. Looks like it won't be just the three of them who'll be working hard in the studio today.

[life-is-more-than-just-a-game]

Can you make a jealous chishiya? Where chishiya tells the reader to thet information about arisu but the reader and arisu gets along prety well and chishiya gets jealous? Thank you.

♠️ Chishiya being jealous about you and Arisu getting along pretty well ♠️

A/N: Hey, sorry for letting you wait so long. Maybe you have already forget that you wrote me this request but I like the idea behind it, so I decided to make this my "comeback". 👀

I'm actually not sure if I understood it the correct way, but I definitely understood you want a Chishiya who is jealous about the fact Arisu and you are get along splendidly. 😋

Hopefully it reaches you and I also hope you will enjoy reading this. ♥️

Characters: Chishiya

POV: gn!reader

Warnings: Not given.

C h i s h i y a

I don't see him being a jealous person actually.

Unless you give him a reason to ...

Chishiya isn't even a person who falls in love easily.

But when he is falling for someone, he falls pretty hard.

So, you have to deal with his feelings and his behavior when he sees you together with Arisu, chatting and laughing together as if there would be no tomorrow.

Okay, to be fair, nobody knows if there would be a "Tomorrow" ... but that's something different!

Arisu may be a great help to him when it comes to collecting all the cards, but sometimes Chishiya thinks Arisu is his downfall.

Especially when it comes to you.

Yeah, but don't think he will talk about it- he is more concerned with hiding his feelings from you than actually speaking about them.

Even if you already have realized something isn't okay with him, he wouldn't admit it.

"I'm used to it that you are not talking much when there is nothing important to discuss about." "I can hear your "but" even though you didn't said it yet." "Then guess what I wanted to say next." "I don't have any problems, I feel fine, no worries."

Nobody said it would be easy with him. He can be as cold as he looks and it's hard seeing through him, even for you.

Still, he can be a calm and cool person as much as he wants- but he's just a human being. You can endure a lot, but at some point everyone reaches their limits.

You and Arisu are talking a lot? Fine.

Arisu makes a joke you find funny, so he watches both of you laughing and having fun with each other? Alright, you aren't his trophy, everyone can have other friends next to his own partner.

But seeing both of you hugging after a game ...

Because you saw someone die in front of your eyes and you are now overwhelmed by many different emotions ...

Well, enough is enough.

"Step aside, Arisu, that's not your part, alright?"

He was waiting for you the entire time you were in the building, so it's not hard for him to find you both outside being ... needy.

"In the future, you'd better keep your hands to yourself." "Excuse me what was that?" "You already understand."

While Chishiya switches positions with Arisu and holds you captive in his arms, he just gives the dark-haired man a warning look.

… Even if unintentionally.

… And unconsciously.

"Well ... I better go then and ... leave both of you alone ... for now." Arisu lets off of you, leaving you to the person who means the most to you. "You better do."

Trying to catch your breath and calm down, you look up to Chishiya and Arisu alternately, feeling the tension between them.

Still, you can't help but start giggling a little.

Arisu und Chishiya both start looking at you now, irritated and confused.

"W-Well, wait ... just to make it clear- is there someone ... really ... jealousy?" "Yes, he is." "No, I'm not", he says calmly. "Okay, then ... let me hug Arisu again ... s-shouldn't be a problem when everything is okay. Right?"

Silence.

You smiling up to Chishiya, who is now biting his tongue and pressing his lips together, not even thinking about letting off of you.

Arisu watching in amusement.

"I'm ... just not fine seeing another one be there for you while I can be there for you. It's my job to cheer you up- even though I'm not the best in it, but I'm trying very hard." "You ARE jealousy, Chi!" "Oi, stop saying this, will you ... ?"

[bruhnze]

Pink Skies - Lucy x Ona

Summary: Nostalgic Luna fic! A slow morning when Lucy Bronze and Ona Battle still both played for Barça. Written cus i miss that era. (Or: Lucy being head over heels in love with her girlfriend.)

Warnings: fluff / smut-ish (suggestive) so MDNI

Wc: 3340

proofread by @pinkygirl28

Wow, Lucy thought, how is she so beautiful?

The sun was already shining through the shutters, filling the room with a soft glow. They were lying in bed in her apartment in Barcelona, but honestly, it felt more like their apartment now.

Ona was here more often than not. Their dogs, Narla and Coco, were sleeping peacefully in the living room. Coco even had his own little bed here.

Details like that made Lucy happy. They were all small ways in which their lives became more and more intertwined

Ona was still fast asleep beside her. It had been a late night after the game. Today they had a free morning before recovery at the club in the afternoon.

She looked over at the alarm clock, there were still a couple hours until it would go off.

Lucy turned to lie on her side, her head propped up on her hand. Ona was facing her, also on her side, her features highlighted pink by the sunlight that peeked through the shutters.

Lucy adored her, loved her. Ona was simply the most beautiful person on the planet, but she loved her besides that too, her kindness, her humor, or her cleverness, she just had everything.

Even now, lying there with dry lips, her hair in a messy bun.. or more like an artistic interpretation of one, and wearing a faded shirt that had seen better days but she refused to throw away because she loved it too much, Ona looked like a dream.

Lucy couldn't understand how she had gotten this lucky, how this was her life now.

Her gaze roamed over Ona’s peaceful face before lingering on her skin, which looked impossibly soft and so kissable.

Her heart swelled as a wave of affection washed over her. She wanted to kiss Ona, to hold her, to somehow convey the overwhelming love that was brimming inside her.

Leaning in, Lucy hovered closer until Ona’s soft breath tickled her face.

She couldn’t resist anymore. She pressed the gentlest kiss to Ona’s cheek, her lips barely grazing her skin.

Ona stirred, letting out a soft groan as she rolled onto her stomach, her face half-buried in her pillow.

Lucy bit her lip, smiling to herself but trying to keep silent.  

With Ona’s face no longer turned toward her, her gaze drifted to the back of Ona’s neck, where a few baby hairs had curled against her skin.

Gently, Lucy reached out, running her fingers lightly down Ona’s spine.

When Ona didn’t stir again, she leaned in and placed a series of soft, featherlight kisses on her neck.

“Luce…” Ona mumbled, her voice rough and muffled by the pillow.

Lucy nestled her face into Ona’s neck, letting her body rest halfway on top of the smaller girl.

She smoothed her hand over the soft skin of Ona’s upper arm and whispered, “Sorry for waking you.”

She’d been awake for a while, first scrolling on her phone, then watching Ona sleep.

Normally, she would’ve gotten out of bed by now, but today she couldn’t bring herself to leave. She wanted to feel her girlfriend close, to soak in this quiet intimacy. Her love for Ona was so intense, so overwhelming, that it almost scared her.

No—it did scare her sometimes.

“How late is it?” Ona murmured, her voice low and sleepy.

Lucy pressed another kiss to Ona’s neck. “Almost eight, baby.”

“Madre mía,” Ona groaned, her words muffled as she buried her face further into the pillow. “Thought we said we’d set the alarm for ten?”

Lucy smiled, nuzzling her face further against Ona’s neck. “We did,” she admitted, placing a soft kiss there. “I know.”

Ona groaned again, her tone somewhere between annoyance and affection. “I’m still tired.”

“Sorry,” Lucy whispered, punctuating the word with a few more kisses against Ona’s skin.

“don’t want sex right now,” Ona mumbled.

Lucy chuckled softly. “That’s not why I woke you up.”

“Then why did you?” Ona sighed, trying to shift but finding herself pinned under Lucy’s weight.

Lucy eased off slightly, giving her some room to move. She smiled as Ona turned towards her. Her face was still sleepy, one eye still closed while the other was half-open.

Leaning in, Lucy began peppering Ona’s face with soft kisses. Ona grumbled softly in protest but didn’t push her away.

“What?” Ona asked, her voice a sleepy mumble.

“I just love you so much,” Lucy whispered. “I’m sorry for waking you. It was an accident.”

“If you love me, let me sleep,” Ona groaned.

“Can I have a kiss first?”

Ona sighed, but leaned in anyway. "Sólo uno," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Lucy nodded eagerly, her eyes fluttering shut as she closed the gap between them. Their lips met in a soft, lingering kiss, that sent a wave of warmth through Lucy’s chest.

As they pulled apart, she gazed at Ona, her heart racing. I want to give her everything she could ever want, Lucy thought, her eyes soft with adoration.

“Hey,” Lucy began softly, “what’s your favorite breakfast? Like if we go out?”

Ona groaned again, curling back up as if to hide from Lucy’s sudden burst of energy. “Luce…”

“That bakery where Coco peed on the door?” Lucy pressed, tucking a strand of hair behind Ona’s ear.

Ona hummed against the pillow. “Chocolate croissant.”

“Coffee from the apple tart place?”

“Sí,” Ona murmured. “The best coffee.”

“Or a matcha?” Lucy asked, as Ona sometimes joined her in that order.

“Café con leche,” Ona whispered sleepily.

“Or juice from that place Salma showed you?” Lucy pressed, determined to piece together the perfect breakfast plan.

“Luce, I’m sleeping,” Ona groaned tiredly.

“The purple one or the green juice? Or the orange one… you got that once, too.”

“No. Coffee’s better,” Ona mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper.

“But if you were-” Lucy started.

“-blueberries,” Ona interrupted, her tone bordering on exasperation. “Please, I want to sleep.”

Lucy chuckled softly. “Okay, you know what? I’ll walk the dogs and let you sleep a bit longer. After that, we can go out for breakfast before heading to the club.” She pressed one last kiss to Ona’s temple before slipping out of bed.

Ona didn’t even respond, she was already back asleep.

..

As Lucy stepped outside with the dogs, she paused, taking in the breathtaking sky. A perfect gradient of pinks and oranges painted the horizon, and she couldn’t resist stopping to snap a picture. The world just felt so much brighter when you were in love, or maybe it was just the beauty of this morning. She sent the picture to her mom with a ‘Good morning’ and then followed it up with a ‘Love you, miss you.’ smiling to herself as she sent it. Life was beautiful.

Lucy’s plan was to surprise Ona with breakfast at home, instead of heading out to one of their usual spots, she decided to walk by all their favorite places and pick up everything Ona liked most.

A chocolate croissant for Ona, a regular one for herself from the little bakery.

From the most recent place they'd visited together, the one Ona had taken her to a couple of days after she’d gone with her friends, she grabbed a blue juice for Ona and a green one for herself. She liked the blue one too but chose the green one just in case Ona wanted to switch.

Lastly, she passed the coffee shop, where she ordered a matcha for herself and a coffee for Ona. The barista greeted her and the dogs with a smile, and they chatted for a moment before Lucy took the to-go cups in a carton holder and made her way back home.

She was grateful that Narla and Coco weren’t leash pullers, because she had her hands full of stuff.

Opening the door was a bit of a struggle, but she managed, and as expected, the house was still quiet. She kicked off her shoes and hung her jacket on the hook.

First, she filled Narla and Coco’s bowls with kibble, then made her way to their bedroom with the breakfast.

She stood there for a moment, watching Ona, who was lying on her side of the bed. Ona had always said she loved that Lucy’s spot was warm and smelled like her. 

Lucy gently placed the breakfast on the bedside table beside Ona and quickly peeled off her jeans before climbing back into bed.

She snuggled close, feeling the warmth of Ona’s body.

As soon as Ona stirred and shifted to face her, Lucy smiled.

"Where were you?" Ona murmured, still half-asleep.

"Walked the dogs?" Lucy chuckled softly. "I told you."

"Did you?" Ona groaned, rubbing her eyes. "I don’t remember."

Lucy couldn’t help but laugh. "Did you get a little more sleep, at least?" she asked, brushing a strand of hair from Ona’s face, smiling as the strand of hair fell back infront of her face again.

"Yes," Ona yawned, her eyes still heavy with sleep. "Was the walk nice?"

Lucy smiled warmly, cupping Ona’s cheek with one hand. "Yes, it was," she replied. "The sky was pretty… I made a picture, do you want to see?"

‘’Mhm,’’

Lucy opened her phone gallery, scrolling to the picture she had taken earlier, and held it out to Ona. "Look," she said softly, her voice warm with excitement.

Ona rubbed her eyes, sitting up slightly against the headboard, her hair falling messily around her face as she blinked at the screen. "Mmm very pretty," she murmured, her voice still thick with sleep. "you should send it to your mom."

"Ah I did," Lucy laughed, settling herself beside Ona. "did I tell you she loves pictures of the sky?" she asked with a laugh.

Ona nodded smiling, leaning into Lucy’s shoulder as she handed the phone back. "Mhm, you said," she whispered. "It’s a nice picture, I bet she’ll love it."

‘’Mhm,’’ Lucy agreed.

Lucy turned her head to press a kiss to Ona’s temple, her lips lingering for a moment. "Well," she said, her tone turning playful as she pulled back slightly, "you don’t remember, apparently, but we said we’d get breakfast when you were awake."

Ona frowned in mock confusion, tilting her head as she studied Lucy’s face. "Did we?"

Lucy laughed softly, brushing the strand of hair out of Ona’s face again. "Yeah, but I actually wanted to surprise you instead."

"Surprise me?" Ona’s voice held a hint of curiosity now, her sleepiness beginning to fade.

Lucy nodded, her smile widening. "Yep," she said as she swung her leg off the bed and reached over to grab the paper bag she had set down earlier. She placed it on the bed between them.

"First," Lucy said, opening the bag, and showing Ona, "a chocolate croissant from that bakery you love. The one where Coco peed on the door." She grinned as she handed it to Ona.

"Stop calling it that.’’ Ona rolled her eyes but smiled, her cheeks dimpling as she took the smaller paper bag containing her croissant. ‘’Coco just wanted to claim his spot, he knows what good places are.’’

Lucy laughed, then pulled out another bag. "And a croissant for me."

Ona smiled, as Lucy reached for the next item besides her.

"Next," Lucy announced, holding up two plastic cups, "a blue juice for you, and a green juice for me. Or the other way around if you rather have this one."

Ona’s eyes sparkled as she set her croissant down to take the juice, immediately taking the straw out of its wrapper and putting in. "Mmm, you’re the best," she said before taking a sip. ‘’I was craving this one, the blueberries.’’

Lucy’s grin grew as she held up the last two items. "And finally, coffee for you, and matcha for me. From the one café where the woman is who loves Narla and Coco.. she gave me an apple tart again." She handed Ona the coffee.

Ona took the cup and set it on her, well Lucy’s, bedside table. "I love this suprise," she said happily, ‘’I cant believe you went to three places for this.’’

Lucy shrugged, though her cheeks turned slightly pink. "Just wanted to make you happy."

Ona leaned over, pressing a kiss to Lucy’s cheek. "You do," she said simply.

Lucy chuckled.

After they’d drank half of their juices Ona took the croissant out of its bag. ‘’Ohh its still warm,’’ she gushed. ‘’Oof we really shouldn’t be eating this in bed, we’re going to have crumbs.’’

Lucy nodded, ‘’mhm, but I think the bed was due for a change anyways.’’

Ona hummed agreeingly, hovering over the bag with the croissant as she leaned in to take a bite.

Lucy smiled as she looked at Ona taking a bite of her croissant.

Ona moaned, closing her eyes as she chewed. "Mmm, esto es mejor que el sexo."

Lucy chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Oof, I’d hope I’m better than a pastry."

Ona looked up, confused. "Huh?"

"Better than sex," Lucy laughed. "You just said, ‘Mmm, this is better than sex.’"

Ona rolled her eyes and let herself fall back onto the bed, laughing. "It’s just a saying."

"I know," Lucy teased, smiling. "I was kidding."

"Mhm," Ona said, taking another bite. Then, with a cheeky grin, she added, "But no, it’s not better than that… Some sí. With you, no."

Lucy grimaced, half-joking, half-genuinely uneasy at the mention of Ona’s past experiences.

Ona noticed, laughed, and set her food aside. She leaned in, covering the top half of Lucy’s face with her hand, before kissing her. "We make good sex," Ona said in her heavily accented English, pulling back with a satisfied smile.

Lucy didn’t want to correct her, but Ona had asked her to tell her if she was saying things wrong. So Lucy tried to gently correct her, "Have." She pressed another kiss to Ona’s lips. "It’s ‘have sex,’ not ‘make sex.’"

"¿Qué?" Ona tilted her head.

"It’s ‘have,’ not ‘make,’" Lucy explained, her tone playful. "You said you wanted me to help improve your English, remember?"

"ghave? No," Ona shook her head stubbornly. "Make."

"It’s definitely ‘have,’ trust me," Lucy insisted, her grin growing.

Ona looked skeptical until, after a moment, realization hit. "Ohhh, no, no, I know, I know!"

Lucy chuckled, waiting for her to explain.

"Ugh, I can’t remember... Wait," Ona said, snapping her fingers. "Make… it’s in that one song!"

Lucy looked even more confused. "What song?"

Ona hummed for a moment, searching her memory before softly singing, "‘You’re the one that I desire... ahh!’" She laughed triumphantly. "I know! ‘When we wake up, and then we make love.’"

‘’Ahh,’’ Lucy chuckled, ‘’well yes, make love or have sex.’’

"ohh," Ona nodded, a twinkle in her eye. "you were right too, it’s ghave sex.. I thought about the other."

Lucy had never known she had a thing for accents.. she thought she didn’t, but surely it wasn’t normal to get this amount of butterflies from someone talking.

Lucy couldn’t hide her grin. There was something about Ona talking, the way her words rolled imperfectly but perfectly into place. It made her heart flutter.

"It’s both different things, though" Ona said quietly, her cheeks pink, pulling Lucy from her thoughts.

Lucy looked at the cute blush that appeared on Ona’s cheeks, ‘’what do you mean?’’ she asked, even though she could guess what Ona meant.

Ona let her head fall against Lucy’s shoulder. "You know what I mean... they both mean a little bit different things."

‘’Mhm,’’ Lucy chuckled, ‘’I know that, but what does it mean for you?’’

"For me?" Ona tilted her head, her brows furrowing.

"Yeah," Lucy said, curious, ‘’what do the two things mean for you?’’

Ona narrowed her eyes at Lucy suspiciously, ‘’you are testing me? or you are curious?’’

Lucy shook her head, ‘’curious, ofcourse babe, I told you, I think your English is good, I’d never make fun of you."

Ona tilted her head and squinted at her.

"Okay, okay," Lucy admitted, holding her hands up, ‘’sometimes I maybe repeat what u say, but that’s only because I find it adorable.’’

"You tease me," Ona pouted.

"I don’t, babe," Lucy said, shaking her head and pulling Ona onto her lap. "Your English is better than my Spanish. I’d be a hypocrite."

"I lived in England for three years," Ona countered, playing with Lucy’s hair, ‘’this is only your second year here.’’

‘’Hmm maybe,’’ Lucy smiled, her hands resting on Ona’s hips, ‘’but can you answer my question now,’’ she pouted, ‘’I’m curious what it means for you.’’

Ona shook her head with a small smile, leaning over to grab her juice from the nightstand.

Lucy looked at her, puzzled. "What, are you shy?"

Ona nodded, sipping her juice and keeping eye contact, her cheeks flushing even more.

"Why?"

Ona thought for a moment before answering softly. "Because only now I know the difference."

"What?" Lucy frowned.

‘’I used to think they were just meaning the same thing, like.. uh… synonyms.. but you made me realize what they sing about in songs..’’ Ona bit her lip, trying to explain. ‘’we,’’ she blushed furiously, as her voice trailed off, ‘’we.. I guess we make love.. most of the times at least.’’

Lucy smiled as it started to make sense.

"It’s not only… lust?" Ona tried to find the words. "Es más que… desire. Not solo del orgasm."

‘’I understand what you mean,’’ Lucy smiled, her hands moving to Ona’s thighs, ‘’its about the connection.. hmm I don’t know if its an actual thing but I would call it - emotional intimacy?’’  

Ona nodded, ‘’sí.’’ She set her juice back on the nightstand.

‘’And do you like that?’’ Lucy chuckled.

Ona giggled, hiding her face in the crook of Lucy’s neck. Ona’s muffled voice came from where her face was hidden. "You already know I do, so why do you ask?"

Lucy smirked, kissing the side of her head. "Because I want to hear you say it."

Ona pulled back slightly, a playful smirk on her lips. "I love it.

A wicked grin pulled at the corners of Lucy’s mouth.

‘’Don’t let it go to your head." Ona said, rolling her eyes with a laugh.

Lucy grinned. "Too late."

Ona shook her head, but she couldn’t stop smiling. Truthfully, cocky Lucy was one of her favorite things.

‘’No but seriously,’’ Lucy said, looking at Ona genuinely, ‘’I feel that too, you brought it to words really well actually.’’

Ona smiled at the compliment, ‘’yeah?’’

Lucy nodded earnestly, ‘’mhm.’’

Ona reached out, her fingers lightly tracing the ink on Lucy’s wrist. The gentle motion sent a tingle through Lucy’s skin, and her breath hitched when Ona’s thumb lingered over the curve of the design. “I love you,” Ona murmured, her voice soft as if she were sharing a secret.

Lucy smiled, her heart swelling. “I love you too.”

Ona smiled, leaning in and brushing her lips against Lucy’s in a kiss so soft it felt like a whisper.

Lucy’s hand instinctively cupped Ona’s cheek, keeping her close.

When she pulled back, Ona’s gaze lingered, “this would be a moment like that.”

“Like what?” Lucy asked breathlessly, her voice catching as Ona’s lips ghosted over her own again, teasing and tantalizing.

‘’That we would make love,’’ Ona said, keeping eye contact.

Lucy’s heart hammered in her chest, a shiver trailing down her spine. This girl was going to be the death of her someday, and honestly, she wouldn’t want it any other way.

"Are you going to keep talking about it," Lucy began, her voice just a little breathless, "or are you going to show me?"

The words sounded bolder in her head, but as they left her lips, they carried a nervous tremor that made Ona smile knowingly.

Ona might be shy sometimes, but in moments like this, she knew she had Lucy wrapped around her finger - and she enjoyed every second of it.

...

[the song that Ona quoted was 'Best part' - H.E.R. ]

the song below is the title

[gf2bellamy]

customer — steve harrington

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: steve helps you out with a rude customer content warnings: mean customer, robin and steve bickering a/n: also i definitely prefer E.T over back to the future

 You sat behind the counter at Family Video, half-listening to Steve and Robin bicker as usual. It was Robin’s day off, but that didn’t stop her from swinging by under the pretense of picking up some movies. You were pretty sure she just missed hanging out with her two favorite people.

Their debate had been going on for the better part of fifteen minutes, and you found yourself grinning as you listened. 

“I’m just saying,” Steve huffed, leaning against the counter with an exaggerated air of exasperation, “E.T. is way overrated. You can’t seriously tell me it’s better than Back to the Future.” 

Robin crossed her arms, her eyebrows shooting up in mock offense. “Excuse me? E.T. is a timeless masterpiece about love and friendship! Back to the Future is just about some guy with weird mommy issues.” 

“Oh, that’s rich coming from someone who claims The Thing is a better horror movie than Jaws,” Steve shot back, pointing at her. 

You chuckled quietly, watching the exchange like it was your own private comedy show.  

Robin turned suddenly, walking toward you with two VHS tapes in hand. “All right, let’s settle this,” she declared, holding the movies up for you to see. “Which one is better?” 

Steve groaned, coming to stand next to you at the counter. “You’re not seriously dragging her into this,” he said, giving Robin a look. 

Robin gave him one right back. “I trust her judgment more than yours, Harrington.” 

You laughed, taking the VHS tapes from her hands to inspect them. “I don’t think there’s a right answer here,” you said, handing them back. “But if I had to pick… probably Back to the Future.” 

“Yes!” Steve fist-pumped triumphantly, flashing Robin a smug grin. 

Robin rolled her eyes dramatically, shoving the VHS tape into her bag. “Whatever. I’m leaving before you get even more insufferable.” She paused on her way out, glancing back with a teasing smirk. “See you two losers tomorrow.” 

“Bye, Robin,” you called after her, shaking your head. 

Steve leaned against the counter, watching her leave. “You know, she’s got terrible taste in movies.” 

You laughed, turning to him. “Do you two ever have a civil conversation?” 

He grinned at you, shrugging. “Nope. Where’s the fun in that?” 

Before you could reply, the bell above the door jingled, and you both turned to see an older man walk into the store. He didn’t bother to look around, heading straight for the counter with an air of impatience. 

“Hi!” you said, standing up a little straighter and putting on your best customer-service smile. “How can I help you?” 

The man didn’t return the smile. Instead, he slammed a VHS tape down on the counter with enough force to make even Steve halt in his tracks.

Steve straightened up beside you, eyebrows raised. “Well, this should be fun,” he muttered under his breath. 

You shot him a look, biting back a grin as you turned back to the customer. “What seems to be the issue?” 

The man glared at you, his expression sour as he jabbed a finger at the VHS tape. “This thing wouldn’t work,” he said, his voice sharp enough to cut glass. 

You blinked, keeping your smile intact despite the wave of hostility. “Oh, I’m sorry about that. Let me take a look—” 

“Don’t bother,” he interrupted, crossing his arms with an exaggerated huff. “I’ve never had a problem like this before, but of course, the one time I rent something here, it’s a dud. Typical. Do you people even check these things before you put them on the shelves?” 

Steve shifted beside you, his arms folding as his posture straightened. You could see the subtle narrowing of his eyes, but you quickly spoke before he could jump in. “We do inspect our discs regularly, sir, but sometimes—” 

“Inspect them? Yeah, right,” the man scoffed, cutting you off again. “Do you think I’m stupid? Clearly, nobody’s doing their job around here. I wasted my time driving here, wasted my evening trying to get the stupid thing to play, and now I have to waste more of my time coming back just to get a refund. Unbelievable.” 

You nodded, trying to remain calm despite the sting of his words. “I understand your frustration, sir. Let me—” 

“Oh, I doubt you understand anything,” he snapped, waving a dismissive hand at you. “You probably just sit back here all day gossiping and not doing your job.” 

At that, you saw Steve push off the counter, his jaw tightening as he stepped forward slightly. “All right, that’s enough,” he said, his voice low and even, but there was a sharp edge to it that made you glance at him in surprise. 

The man turned his glare to Steve. “Excuse me?” 

“You’ve made your point,” Steve said, his tone calm but firm. “We’ll take care of it. No need to take it out on her.” 

The man sputtered, clearly caught off guard by Steve’s directness. Before he could say another word, Steve reached out and grabbed the VHS tape from the counter. “I’ll check it myself,” he added.

You exhaled softly, feeling the tension in the air crackle as the man huffed but didn’t push further. Steve gave you a small, reassuring look before turning his attention back to the man. 

“We’ll get this sorted for you. Have a nice day,” Steve said, the hint of sarcasm in his tone unmistakable. 

As the man stormed out of the store, the bell above the door jingled sharply. You bit your lip anxiously, your gaze fixed on the door as it swung closed. You hated being yelled at—it left a weight in your chest that was hard to shake. 

You sighed quietly, shifting on your feet and trying to will away the lump in your throat. Suddenly, you felt a warm hand on your back. 

“You okay?” Steve’s voice was soft, and when you turned to look at him, his concerned brown eyes were already studying your face. 

“Yeah,” you said, offering a small smile. “Thanks for stepping in back there. That guy was… intense.” 

Steve huffed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter. “Intense? He was a total jerk.” He glanced toward the door, as if expecting the man to come back. “People like that think they can just walk all over everyone. Not on my watch.” 

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “Still, you didn’t have to say anything. But I really appreciate it.” 

He shrugged, a lopsided grin forming on his face. “What kind of guy would I be if I just stood there and let him talk to you like that?” 

Your smile grew, and you felt the tension in your chest start to ease. “Well, it was nice. Thanks, Steve.” 

“Anytime,” he said, his grin softening into something more genuine. “Besides,” he added, winking playfully, “I couldn’t let him ruin the best employee’s day. Who else is gonna keep me sane while Robin’s driving me crazy?” 

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Pretty sure you two drive each other crazy equally.” 

Steve grinned, pushing himself off the counter. “Fair enough. But seriously, if that guy comes back, I’ve got your back.” 

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and for a second, all you could do was nod. 

“Thanks, Steve,” you said again, your smile warmer this time. 

“Don’t mention it,” he said, flashing you one last grin before turning toward the shelves to reorganize the VHS tapes Robin had knocked over earlier. As you watched him, you couldn’t help but feel a little lighter.

[dreamdragonkadia]

I have a very important question for you! Right now it’s really cold where I live and I can help but wonder how Percy and Xaden would react if each of their significant others shoved their hands under the guys shirts to warm up their cold hands. Any thoughts on this?

Hello, m’dear, I hope you are staying warm and yes I do indeed have thought hehe.

For Xaden, if you’ve pulled this stunt before, he is prepared. He hears your soft footfalls approaching and, without even turning around, catches your icy hands in his before they make contact with his skin. A sly smile tugs at his lips as he turns to face you, pulling one of your hands free from his grip. His dark eyes meet yours as he presses a warm soft kiss to your knuckles, but there’s no mistaking the faint glint of smug amusement.

“You’ll have to be faster than that, love,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, before wrapping his hands around yours to warm them.

But if this is your first time pulling this move? Oh, he is not ready. You sneak up behind him, looping your arms around his waist in what he assumes is an innocent hug. He leans into your touch for a brief moment, his guard lowered, his body softening under the familiar comfort of you.

And then—bam! Your freezing hands slide under the hem of his shirt, pressing against the warm, toned planes of his stomach. The sharp cold shocks him, and though it’s subtle, you feel him jolt in your arms. It’s not visible, not with how well he masks his reactions, but the small jump is enough to make you grin.

He straightens immediately, one hand moving to clasp your wrists as he turns his head to glance at you over his shoulder. His expression is a mix of disbelief and exasperation, his brows raised ever so slightly.

“Really?” he drawls, his voice edged with playful annoyance.

You can’t help but laugh, leaning your forehead against his back as you mutter a sheepish, “Sorry, my hands were freezing.”

He exhales a dramatic sigh but spins in your arms, his grip on your wrists loosening just enough to let him bring your hands to his chest. His gaze softens as he cups your fingers in his much warmer hands, holding them close between you.

“You’re lucky I like you,” he grumbles, though the ghost of a smile betrays him. “But next time, try asking first. Or better yet, warn me.”

But you both know he wouldn’t have it any other way.

~ ~ ~

Percy's reaction? Absolutely priceless.

"AHH! WHY ARE YOUR HANDS SO COLD?!" he yelps dramatically, flinching like you've just unleashed the fury of the gods on him. His eyes go wide, his shoulders jump, and you can't help but laugh at his over-the-top reaction.

But here's the twist—he does it to you just as much. There’s no such thing as a one-sided cold hands war in your relationship. When his hands are freezing after touching the ocean or walking around in the winter air, he thinks it’s the perfect opportunity to sneak up behind you and slide his icy fingers onto your skin. He always laughs at your shriek of protest, calling it payback.

What’s even funnier is that, for all his protests, Percy is never really ready when you do it to him. Even if you’ve done it a hundred times before. It’s like he forgets you’re a walking, talking popsicle in the winter.

But there’s one thing that makes Percy, well, Percy. Sometimes, when you casually mention your hands are cold, he’ll sigh, roll his eyes with a grin, and say, “Alright, fine. Hand heater Percy, reporting for duty.” He’ll open his arms, letting you tuck your icy fingers against his warm skin as he shivers and complains, but secretly, you know he doesn’t really mind.

[respectthepetty]

Before I start whatever it is I do over here in my little corner of the interwebz for episode fifteen of Fourever You, what does "He's into the native local lifestyle again" mean? What are they saying about my piranha-bitten Black Brooder? Because it feels . . . pointed, and I need clarification.

My boy comes to collect them next week because He. Is. A. Good. Boy. so I need to know in what way they are slandering his name, but I don't understand what they are saying well enough to be adequately upset. Help me be the appropriate amount of mad at Hill and Johan for this comment by explaining it to me.

And now back to the episode where we see Yellow Yal (East)Ter trying to brighten up Green Guy North because his Red Rascal (sometimes Brown Boy) Johan is on a business trip, for like a whole day!

Yes, judge your bestie, babe! JUDGE HIM!

But at least this means North has time to sit in his greenness at the school fair since he is so fresh to this "being madly in love with a boy who is great at all things" thing.

Which gives me time to focus on Tonfah.

AND THIS AWKWARDNESS BETWEEN HIM AND TYPHOON!

What is this energy, sirs? Have y'all already slept together, and we won't know until the second part, which I BETTER BE GETTING?!

Blue Boy Hill, what do you know?! You knew Johan's secrets. You seem to know Arthit's too. So what the hell is happening with the Weather Boys! I NEED PART TWO NOW! Let me pray with Ter.

And now I have to deal with these two WHO STILL AREN'T TOGETHER! Will I have to wait until the second part for them too?! Dear God, help me!

Wait, which one of you said that?! Who said they liked blue?! Typhoon?! Dao?! I won't even know your colors until the second part either. I better get this second part!

But at least I'm getting this crazy kid flying all the way back after hearing North say he missed him since he was gone for *checks notes* four days? Is that correct?! FOUR DAYS?!

Whatever! Time is merely a concept, but this love is real.

Yeah, hold his face and tell him you missed him after *rolls eyes* four whole days.

Then hit me with that green light!

And a proposal . . . to be boyfriends? The gays are so dramatic!

Thank goodness for that too because it gave me an entire sequence of Ter being adorable about it!

I need screenshots of it too!

This is truly what it feels likes to finally see my ship sail.

And this is what I'm going to look like when I'm watching Goddess Bless You From Death.

Wait, WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?!

I barely got colors in this episode, I have more questions than answers, and now Johan and Hill just decided to move their boyfriends out of the dorm while they distracted them with a movie without discussing it with them first. How, Sway?!

I love this mess.

[chewnotchoke]

to let a good thing die - gongfourz

warning: leehan and taesan, bff gongfourz, angst, friendship fallout, they call each other 'donghyun' and 'dongmin' but i'll refer to them with their stage names a/n: i originally wanted to make it a love triangle where hts fell for klh, however, i did not want to add a cliche love triangle anymore where their friendship simply gets ruined by a girl so instead, i just focused on their dynamics as best friends :) wc: 6.7k (my longest fic yet) playlist: bruno major - to let a good thing die // lana del rey - margaret // wave to earth - love // phoebe bridgers - scott street // conan gray - the cut that always bleeds // billie eilish - tv // lorde - ribs // mac demarco - watching him fade away

the one constant in a world that frequently felt chaotic and uncertain was the bond between leehan and taesan. their relationship developed gradually over time rather than being sparked by something significant or profound. they had this unshakable connection, built on an implicit commitment to always stand by each other.

there was something comforting about their relationship, like the warmth of a campfire on a cold night. it was strong, steady, and able to push away even the darkest moments.

leehan is the kind of person who can turn the most mundane moments into something fun, tossing playful jabs or flashing a quick grin that’s as disarming as it is genuine. yet beneath his laid-back demeanor lies a quiet loyalty for his best friend, taesan.

for leehan, caring about taesan isn’t just a passing thought—it’s woven into the fabric of his being, a constant he doesn’t need to say aloud. his way of showing it is subtle: an encouraging word when taesan's fire flickers or a shared laugh to lighten the weight of the world.

taesan, on the other hand, is a force of nature. he’s full of purpose, his mind racing with ideas and plans, always reaching for a horizon only he can see. ambition fuels him like a roaring engine, pushing him forward with relentless determination. but even with his eyes set on the stars, taesan never forgets leehan. he values him as a grounding presence, the person who reminds him to breathe amidst the chaos.

to taesan, leehan isn’t just a friend—he’s a safe harbor, someone he trusts to understand him in ways words can’t always express.

when taesan forgot his lunch in middle school, it was leehan who pushed his tray across the cafeteria table, pretending he wasn’t hungry. when taesan showed up late to cram school, drenched in the rain, leehan wordlessly handed over his spare hoodie. when taesan confessed he’d failed another math test, leehan stayed up all night crafting a cheat sheet—not so taesan could cheat, but so he could study better next time. 

the park was washed in gold by the afternoon sun. the rusty swing set, a memory from their shared youth, was occupied by leehan and taesan. with each push, the chains creaked as they swayed gently under their weight.

as they watched a group of children play tag on the grass, their laughter resonating in the cool air, they had been silent for some time. with a heavy voice, leehan breaks the silence. 

“do you ever wonder how things might change when we enter college?” kicking at the mud beneath his feet, he asked the question. taesan could only offer him a wry smile as he turned to him, “why? are you worried about drifting apart as we’re finally starting to figure out our lives?” 

“something like that.”

it took taesan to give a response. he stared at his friend and finally added, “you know, the world doesn’t have to be perfect for us to have our own piece of it. and honestly...you’re the only piece i’d ever need.” it was all sincerity–raw, and unfiltered, and leehan could feel it from taesan’s voice. 

taesan’s grin returned but tinged with something softer, almost fragile. “i know life gets messy, and sometimes it feels like we’re barely holding on, and i know it’s going be harder in our 20’s, but every time i feel like i’m drowning, i think about this, us. and i know i’ll be okay.”

“but i’m kind of worried though,” taesan adds. “you’ve always been there for me and i’m scared of leaning too much on you, and if i am not reciprocating the same care you’ve given me. you’ve always felt like a brother, an older one. you were there when i scraped my knee, trying to learn how to ride a skateboard from you. when i had that silly breakup in high school, when i almost failed my math test. i don’t want to be a burden for you, where you always have to take care of me and make sure i’m okay whenever i mess up.”

leehan chuckled softly, the sound warm and reassuring. "it doesn’t make you weak. and for what it’s worth, you’re the one who reminds me to laugh when i get too serious, who pulls me out of my head when i overthink. you take care of me in your own way, even if you don’t realize it. so i want you to keep leaning on me, just as much as i need you here, too."

leehan’s mind drifted to the time in middle school when he had forgotten to finish his homework. the teacher’s glare had felt like a spotlight, and humiliation burned hot on his cheeks as he was told to stand at the back of the classroom. but just as he began to shuffle toward the wall, taesan had quietly risen from his seat and joined him. “forgot mine too,” taesan had mumbled, even though leehan knew it wasn’t true.

he remembered the warmth of that moment, how the shame of standing alone had melted into something almost bearable because taesan had been there, sharing the weight of it without a second thought.  

another memory surfaced, sharper and more vivid: the sound of pounding rain as leehan sprinted through the streets, his heart racing with worry after hearing his mom was sick. he hadn’t even noticed taesan trailing behind him at first, gripping an umbrella in one hand and shouting for him to slow down.

by the time leehan stopped, both of them were drenched, rain dripping from taesan’s hair and soaking his clothes. yet taesan didn’t seem to care; he simply held the umbrella over his friend’s head, his hands trembling slightly from the cold, determined to shield him from the downpour.  

taesan, on the other hand, found himself smiling at a memory of his own. he thought about the night he lost his cat—a quiet, aching grief that had made him curl up in his room and refuse to leave. he could still see leehan leaning against the doorway, arms crossed but eyes gentle, waiting patiently. “food’s getting cold,” leehan had said, his voice soft. he hadn’t pried or tried to offer hollow comfort. he had simply waited until taesan finally stepped out, sitting across from him at the table in silence, offering companionship without needing to say a word.  

for a brief period, the only sound in the place was the soft hum of the kids playing. then taesan exhaled, a tiny, nearly apologetic smile pulling at his mouth. his shoulders releasing tension, and his heart feeling lighter than ever after hearing such words from leehan. 

that day, despite everything, it was just the two of them as best friends. and at that moment, it was more than enough. 

until things started to shift in their sophomore year as college students. 

taesan began to feel the heavy, unrelenting weight of adulthood pressing down on him. it was nothing like the carefree days of high school, when life was a blend of joys and trivial worries. back then, it was all about laughter, mischief, and the simplicity of being young. now, it felt as though every responsibility, every expectation, was stacking itself on his shoulders, threatening to crush him under its weight. 

but what tormented at him most wasn’t just his own struggles—it was the fear of becoming someone else’s. he dreaded the day of himself becoming the burden rather than the bearer, making his chest tighten with unease. especially to leehan. 

leehan often found himself waking up to the faint glow of a desk lamp at the dining table in their shared dorm. there taesan would be, hunched over his notes and laptop, dark circles under his eyes betraying yet another sleepless night. the sight had become too familiar.

"dongmin, don’t tell me..." leehan muttered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he walked into the room. his voice carried a mix of concern and exasperation. taesan glanced up, the exhaustion etched into his face undeniable. but instead of answering, he closed his laptop with a soft sigh and rose from his seat. he began gathering his things for the class that awaited him.

"dongmin, you haven’t been sleeping for days," leehan said firmly, stepping closer.

taesan paused, slinging his bag over one shoulder. "i have a really important presentation later," he said, his voice calm but weary. "i can’t screw this up." 

leehan frowned, watching his friend push himself yet again. "you need to rest, though. you can’t keep running on empty."

“i’ll be fine," taesan replied with a small, tired smile, brushing off the concern as he always did. "i probably won’t be back for lunch, so don’t wait for me. eat something good, okay? i’ll see you after class." and with that, taesan headed for the door, leaving leehan standing there, worry tugging at his chest. as much as leehan wanted to stop him, he knew taesan’s stubborn determination all too well. all he could do was silently promise to be there, ready to catch him if he fell.

it was just after leehan’s second class when his phone buzzed insistently in his pocket. the caller id flashed ‘university clinic,’ and a strange chill ran down his spine as he answered. the nurse’s voice was calm but firm: taesan had fainted after a presentation, and his name was listed as the emergency contact. hearing that sent a wave of emotions crashing over leehan—fear, frustration, and a flicker of something warmer, something he couldn’t quite name. he didn’t even stop to think.  his legs moved instinctively as he sprinted toward the infirmary.

when he pushed open the door, he saw taesan lying on the small bed, looking pale, his usual energy drained. his lips curved into a faint smile when he noticed leehan, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “you’re here,” taesan murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “why? have you eaten lunch yet?”

leehan exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair to calm the anger bubbling inside him. “do you really need to waste what little energy you have worrying about me?”

taesan let out a breathy laugh, though it came out more like a cough. “i’m fine. it’s not that serious. didn’t the doctor say i just need some rest? i’m an adult now, leehan.”

“and yet, you can’t even take care of yourself,” leehan shot back, his tone harsher than he intended. the smile faded from taesan’s face, replaced by a shadow of guilt. “i’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice so soft it was almost swallowed by the room’s silence. leehan’s chest tightened as he realized how his words had landed. he reached out, his hand resting gently on taesan’s arm, a gesture meant to reassure.

“hey,” he said softly, his voice gentler now. “i’m not mad. i’m worried. i hate seeing you like this. but you know i’ll always be here, right? whether you think you need me or not.”

taesan’s gaze shifted away, his fingers clutching at the blanket. “that’s what scares me,” he admitted, his voice trembling. “that you always have to take care of me.”

for a moment, the weight of taesan’s words lingered in the air, heavy and unspoken. leehan tightened his grip on taesan’s arm, his own voice steady and quiet. “you’re not a burden, taesan. not to me. you never will be. so stop trying to do everything on your own.” taesan’s lips quirked into a faint smile again, though it was tinged with something bittersweet. “you’re too good to me, you know that?”

leehan shook his head, his own smile breaking through. “maybe. but you make it worth it.”

the silence that followed was warmer this time, leaving only the steady hum of the infirmary clock marking the passing seconds.

but the following days weren’t as warm. 

taesan had been alone in their shared dorm for three days now. leehan had barely been home, only returning long enough to sleep, his presence almost ghostly in its absence. the days passed in a blur, with taesan filling the space with his own thoughts and distractions, but something was missing. every morning, taesan would check his room to find that leehan had already gone—his things left behind, his bed untouched. it was as if leehan had simply faded away.

that morning, as taesan stood in the kitchen, rinsing the dishes he had used for breakfast, he heard the familiar creak of the door opening. his heart jumped in his chest, and for the first time in days, a small spark of relief flickered in his chest. he turned around to see leehan step inside, dragging himself like a ghost from the hallway.

“you’re back!” taesan said, his voice a mix of surprise and relief.

leehan’s response was a strained, half-hearted smile that barely reached his eyes. he walked slowly, his footsteps heavy, as if the weight of the world was pressing down on his shoulders, his bag hung loosely from one arm.

“are you alright?” taesan asked, his brows furrowing in concern. “you haven’t been answering my calls. how was your test?” leehan didn’t immediately respond. instead, he simply sighed, the sound as hollow as his smile. “sorry,” he muttered, looking away. “let’s not talk about that.”

before taesan could press further, leehan disappeared into his room, the door closing behind him with a finality that felt like a wall between them. taesan stood frozen, his heart heavy with unanswered questions he glanced at the clock. only ten minutes before class. he should go, but something worried him, telling him to wait. so, he did. he waited by the door, listening for any sign that leehan might come out.

when the door finally opened again, it wasn’t the leehan taesan had hoped for. leehan emerged, but this time he was carrying a much larger bag, his clothes different. his movements were mechanical, devoid of the warmth that usually accompanied him.

“i don’t think i’ll be home for the next few days,” leehan said, his voice distant, the words detached as if he were speaking from a far-off place. “take care. i’ll see you soon.”

taesan’s throat tightened, his stomach lurching at the finality in leehan’s tone. “wait, what? donghy—”

but leehan didn’t stop. without another glance, he turned and disappeared out the door, leaving taesan standing in the midst of a room that suddenly felt too empty and quiet. the seconds dragged into minutes, and taesan stood there, numb, watching the door as if hoping leehan might come back.

but he didn’t. the sound of leehan’s departure echoed in his mind, and taesan realized, with an unsettling clarity, that something had shifted. though he didn’t know what it was or how it happened.

taesan had known something was wrong with leehan for days. it had started subtly at first: leehan had been quieter than usual, disappearing more often, his smiles more forced. taesan had brushed it off, telling himself that it was probably just the stress of exams, or maybe leehan was dealing with something personal. but it wasn’t like him to pull away without saying anything, especially not from taesan.

last week, leehan had mentioned that his program had a qualifying test to determine if he could continue to the next semester. it was a big deal, and taesan had noticed how much time leehan was spending with his study group, buried in textbooks and notes. but even so, the silence between them felt different—longer, heavier.

but that night, after finishing his own studies, taesan couldn’t help himself. he opened the messaging app and typed out a message:

"hey, what else have you been up to lately? haven’t heard from you in a while. you good?"

he stared at the words, his thumb hovering over the send button, unsure if it was too much, or too soon. but it was the truth—he was anxious. he didn’t know what leehan had been up to, how he was holding up, or even if he was okay. he sent the message and then sat back, waiting. the minutes turned into an hour. his phone sat on the desk, quiet, undisturbed. 

it was only when taesan was about to drift off to sleep, the heft of the day pulling him under, that he finally heard the familiar ping of a new message. he reached for his phone, his eyes still heavy with fatigue, and unlocked the screen.

it was from leehan.

“i’m sorry i haven’t been home lately. and i don’t think i will be for the whole week. i’ll be back once i’m done. make sure you’re eating well.”

the message was short. vague. empty.

taesan stared at the words for a long time. there was something hollow about it, something that left him unsettled. taesan reread the message, wondering if there was more beneath the surface, some hidden meaning that he wasn’t catching. but in the end, the words sat coldly in his chest, unanswered and unyielding.

three more days had slipped by since leehan’s last reply. silence hung heavily in the apartment, with taesan left to his own thoughts in their shared space. despite the suffocating  curiosity, taesan resisted the urge to call, respecting the unspoken boundaries. seeing leehan occasionally online on the messaging app was enough to reassure him that nothing dire had occurred.

on his way to campus, taesan crossed paths with sungho, one of leehan’s friends from his program. a spark of hope stirred in his chest as he greeted him. “sungho, have you been with donghyun? how’s he doing?” sungho’s expression shifted, a mixture of surprise and concern. “donghyun? hasn’t he come back to your place yet?”

“no, i haven’t heard from him lately.”

sungho sighed, glancing away momentarily. “ah, you didn’t know? leehan failed the qualifying exam last week. it was tough—he had to retake it with an additional 80 questions. but he finally passed on the second try. if he had failed again, he wouldn’t have been able to apply for the next semester. and he would have lost his spot in your college dorm. he’s been a wreck since the test, crying a lot. i thought you knew?”

a load settled on taesan’s chest. he hadn’t known any of this. the silence suddenly felt heavier, tinged with guilt and worry. before he could respond, sungho gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder. “i’ve got to go now. take care, dongmin.” with that, sungho walked away, leaving taesan standing in the middle of the bustling campus, lost in thought.

late at night after class, the dorm was eerily quiet, and there was still no sign of leehan. taesan sat on the couch, his heart weighed down by the conversation he’d had with sungho earlier. the day’s fatigue clung to him as he idly scrolled through instagram, seeking distraction.

his thumb froze when he stumbled upon leehan’s latest instagram story. it was a group selfie with classmates, a table laden with food and alcohol, and the caption, “thank you, guys. it wouldn’t have been possible without you.”

a storm of unspoken emotions swirled within taesan. he placed his phone face down on the table and sighed heavily. moments later, the front door creaked open, and leehan stepped in. his face bore a different expression than the one taesan remembered. something softer, more at ease.

“dongmin, i’m back! i mi—” leehan’s words trailed off when he noticed taesan’s lack of response. concern flickered in his eyes as he gently closed the door. “are you alright?” he asked, lingering in the doorway. “is it true?” taesan’s voice was low, almost a whisper.

“what’s true?” leehan frowned.

“you failed your qualifying exam.”

“oh, that,” leehan shrugged, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. “how did you know? but it’s all good now—”

“no, it’s not!” taesan’s voice cracked as he interrupted, his frustration surfacing. leehan blinked, taken aback.

“dongmin, it’s really fine. i passed the second time.”

“but you didn’t tell me,” taesan muttered, his gaze fixed on the floor.

“tell you what?”

“that you were struggling. that you needed support. instead, you celebrated with your college friends. people you’ve known for barely a few semester, while i was left in the dark. if sungho hadn’t told me, i wouldn’t have known anything.”

leehan’s smile faltered. “dongmin, i didn’t want to be a burden. i thought—”

“a burden?” taesan cut him off, his voice trembling. “do you think i’m not scared of being a burden too? but other than that, i’m more terrified of becoming someone you can’t rely on. do i mean so little to you as a friend?” his eyes shimmered, tears threatening to fall. the room was steeped in silence, the pressure of unspoken fears and misunderstandings pressing down on them.

“dongmin, i’m so—”

“was it not possible with me, donghyun? is that why you didn’t tell me?” taesan’s tears streamed freely, his voice trembling with a fragile softness. leehan’s gaze softened, the sight of his best friend in tears pulling at his heart. “that’s not true, dongmin. i didn’t tell you because i didn’t want to add to your stress. when you fainted from exhaustion after your presentation, i knew you weren’t in the right headspace. if i had told you i failed, it would’ve only worried you more. you mean so much to me as a friend—i couldn’t bear the thought of adding more weight to your shoulders.”

“donghyun, i could have helped you study—”

“and that’s exactly what i didn’t want!” leehan interrupted almost shouting, his chest heaving with emotion. “i didn’t want you to see me as someone who couldn’t succeed on his own. it’s not about that! dongmin, i was more afraid of losing what we have here, in this apartment, than losing my own dreams!”

taesan was rendered speechless, overwhelmed by the raw honesty in leehan’s words. he hadn’t expected such vulnerability from his friend, and it struck a chord deep within him. “you always care about academics, and you wouldn’t understand that because you’re full of determination and purpose! you’ll never find yourself in this terrible situation, scared on the edge of losing your spot in what we share.” leehan’s voice echoed in the small living room, his words cutting through the quiet like a blade.

taesan stood there, frozen, the weight of leehan’s remark sinking into his chest. confusion swirled in his mind, mixing with a sharp sting of hurt. his brows furrowed as he tried to process the words, the frustration in leehan’s voice, the unspoken resentment hidden beneath.

“i—” taesan began, his voice faltering. he didn’t know what to say, how to respond to something that felt so out of nowhere, so unfair. “you know what? let’s just stop talking about this,” leehan muttered, his tone weary, almost defeated. 

“i’m sorry for making it a big deal.” taesan felt his throat tighten as he answered, the words he wanted to say trapped somewhere between his heart and his mouth. he couldn’t bring himself to argue anymore, not when it felt like every word would only widen the gap between them. so, he turned away. quietly, almost reluctantly, he made his way to his room, the sound of his footsteps muffled by the thick silence that now filled the space. 

for weeks, silence draped over the dorm like a suffocating fog. leehan and taesan were locked in an unspoken calm, neither willing to break the stillness that had stretched into nearly two weeks. it wasn’t pride that kept their words at bay, but the heavy weight of guilt. for leehan, it was the guilt of almost leaving taesan in the dark, of burdening him when he was already struggling. for taesan, it was the guilt of not being there for leehan, of failing to comfort him when he needed it most.

and beneath it all lingered the echo of leehan’s confession, his yearning for permanence in their shared space—a permanence that, for taesan, would always belong to leehan alone.

despite the silence, their care for each other never wavered. leehan would quietly prepare extra portions of food, knowing taesan often pulled all-nighters and might need a late meal, even though leehan himself rarely ate more than a small serving. meanwhile, taesan would tiptoe into leehan’s room after he had fallen asleep, gently turning off the lights and softly closing the door left open.

the semester was winding down, the days slipping by in a blur, and before anyone realized it, summer break was just around the corner. taesan had been singularly focused on preparing for an internship interview slated for the next semester. it was all he had thought about for the past week—a chance to inch closer to his dream, especially since it was with a prestigious company. with his grades qualifying him for the application, he seized the opportunity without hesitation.

amid his preparation, taesan had barely noticed what leehan had been up to. it seemed like his friend was also engrossed in studying for something, though taesan hadn’t had the chance to ask.

as a way to celebrate their hard work this semester, taesan and his classmates decided to unwind with a dinner at a local pub. the thought of sharing a meal and laughter with friends was a welcome break from the intensity of the past weeks. taesan was planning to break the silence with leehan tonight once he got home.

or maybe tonight was a bad time, because leehan was also at the pub.

leehan and taesan sat at opposite ends of the pub, surrounded by their own circles of friends. the air was alive with the buzz of conversation, laughter echoing across the room. taesan, though engaged in a lively discussion with his friend, jaehyun, couldn’t help but glance over at leehan from time to time. his gaze lingering on his best friend. he watched, not out of curiosity, but out of concern, silently willing him to eat more, to take care of himself.

meanwhile, leehan sat at his table, doing his best to ignore the darting glances and hushed whispers that seemed to hang in the air around him. he heard bits and pieces of the murmurs , gossip about his recent failure. he didn’t care. they didn’t understand, and they never would. the success he sought was never meant for them, but for someone else.

but on the other side of the room, things were beginning to escalate. one of taesan’s classmates leaned in, his voice rising just enough for taesan to catch the words. “i don’t understand how dumb someone could get not to pass the test on the first try. yeah, sure, he passed the second one, but that’s just wasting his time, honestly. right, dongmin?”

the words were a blur to leehan, barely registering in his ears, but for taesan, they hit hard. he felt his muscles tighten, his temper beginning to simmer. his grip tightened around his glass of beer, his gaze hardening as the same classmate continued, oblivious to the damage he was causing.

“kind of pathetic, don’t you think?” the classmate sneered.

that was the breaking point. taesan slammed his glass down, rising from his seat with such force that his chair scraped across the floor. his eyes locked on the classmate, anger igniting in his chest. leehan, who had a hint of what was being said, braced himself. his body was tensed, ready for whatever might come next. he wasn’t sure what it was all about, but if it got worse, he wouldn’t stand by idly. taesan walked toward the guy, voice low but seething with anger. 

“shut up,” taesan says. “you don’t know a damn thing about donghyun.”

the classmate, ever the instigator, stood up to meet him, unafraid and ready for a fight. the atmosphere in the pub shifted, everyone now watching, tension hanging heavy in the air. “what’s your problem, taesan?” the classmate sneered, not backing down. “you didn’t know a damn thing either. leehan didn’t tell you, did he? didn’t want you to know how pathetic he was for failing that exam.” he scoffs and continued, “after all, some people just aren’t cut out for that level.”

taesan’s patience had worn thin. the words his classmate had spat, the cruel mockery, the way everyone around them had gone silent as if they were waiting for him to do something, he couldn’t hold it back any longer. the burning anger that had been boiling beneath his skin suddenly roared to the surface. 

his first instinct was to grab something, anything. but even in his anger, there was a moment of calm. his eyes locked onto the nearest object, the beer mug resting on the table. without thinking, but with controlled precision, he grabbed it and poured the beer over the guy’s head. the beer splashed in a cold wave, soaking his classmate’s hair and dripping down his face, the mug now empty in taesan’s hand.

“hope that helps cool down your overblown ego,” taesan said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, a sharp edge of defiance in his tone.

but his classmate’s smug expression remained unchanged. his lips curled into an arrogant smirk, eyes narrowing as if daring taesan to do more. before taesan, could fully process it, the guy’s fist came crashing into taesan's face. the force of the punch sent taesan stumbling backward. the sharp pain in his cheek was almost too much to ignore, but he forced himself to focus.

the instant he regained his balance, his fist swung out in retaliation, landing squarely against his classmate’s jaw. but before taesan could take another step forward, he felt hands pulling him away.

leehan had rushed over, his grip strong on taesan’s arm as he yanked him away from the scene. taesan’s instincts screamed to pull back, to lash out at his classmate once more, but when he saw it was leehan trying to stop him, something inside him shifted. his anger, his adrenaline, all of it, suddenly dulled. his body, tense and ready for a fight just seconds before, relaxed against leehan’s pull.

“taesan, let’s go,” leehan urged, his voice low but firm. taesan didn’t resist as much now.

the anger hadn’t completely subsided, but the sight of his best friend trying to stop him, trying to keep him from making a bigger mess, made him pause. he allowed leehan to guide him toward the door. the moment they stepped outside, the cold air hit him like a slap to the face, bringing him back to reality. taesan stood there for a moment, shivering not from the cold, but from the rush of emotions that still swirled within him—anger, regret, frustration.

he looked at leehan, whose face was a mixture of concern and disappointment. taesan wanted to say something, but the words caught in his throat. instead, he just stood there, feeling the weight of everything he hadn’t said and everything he’d done. he was frustrated, almost feeling like he wanted to cry out of anger. 

“why…why didn’t you say anything?!” taesan’s voice was rough, raw with emotion. “why aren’t you mad?!” his chest heaved with the force of his frustration, his fists clenching at his sides.

leehan’s eyes softened, but there was an edge to his voice, a slight tremor that betrayed the emotion he was trying to keep in check. “why did you have to get into trouble because of me, dongmin?” his words rose in pitch, more from concern than anger. “this isn’t just about you, donghyun! it’s about respect. he had no right to talk about you like that!” taesan answered, his arm jerked toward the pub, where his classmate’s voice still echoed in his mind.

“i don’t need you to fight my battles, dongmin,” leehan said, his voice cracking with frustration. “i can handle it.”

taesan’s breath hitched, and he exhaled sharply, his eyes softening, the anger that had once burned in them replaced by something darker like hurt, deep and raw.

“do you really see me like that?”

his voice dropped to a whisper. “you always carry my burdens, you always worry when i’m about to break. but when it’s your turn—when it’s you, you don’t need me. you never ask for my help. i thought... i thought you needed me just as much.” he paused, swallowing hard.

“is it so hard to lean on me, donghyun? after everything we’ve been through, after all this time…am i still not the kind of person worth relying on?”

leehan’s heart clenched, the weight of taesan’s words striking him harder than any punch had. his breath caught in his chest. “you are,” leehan said quietly, the words heavy, as if admitting it physically hurt.

“you are… but not when we’re both having a hard time.”

a silence fell between them, thick and suffocating, as if the air itself was too heavy to breathe. the words hung in the space between them, too much to bear.

“maybe we’re just not the friends we used to be, donghyun,” taesan muttered, his voice hollow.

the silence deepened. it was the kind that pressed down on them, crushing, leaving no room for anything else. neither of them moved, neither of them spoke. the weight of the words, of the distance, settled like a stone in both their chests, suffocating the bond they once thought was unbreakable.

a week later, they were both in their dorm. on the surface, it seemed like everything had returned to normal, but beneath the surface, it hadn’t. taesan had just gotten off a call with his professor the day after the incident, who brought up the recent situation at the pub. the news was disheartening—unfortunately, the company taesan had been aiming for didn’t tolerate any involvement in violence, no matter the circumstances. as a result, he lost his spot for the internship interview he had been diligently preparing for the past weeks.

one night, taesan remained on the couch, his head bowed, staring intently at his hands clasped tightly together. leehan noticed the shift in taesan’s demeanor. “what’s wrong?” he asked, placing his cup of water on the table. the weight of the situation pressed down on taesan. it was crushing and disappointing, but somehow, he couldn’t even muster the energy to feel sorrowful about it.

the dim light of the evening filtered through the window of their shared apartment, casting long shadows across the living room. “i heard from the office today,” taesan finally said, breaking the tension. his voice was low, almost emotionless. “they pulled my name from the interview list. the internship’s off the table.” leehan asked if he did not even try to plead and reconsider, but taesan says he didn’t want to do anything of that.

“you’re not seriously going to take the blame for this,” leehan finally said, his voice cutting through the stillness. “why? why didn’t you ask them to reconsider?”

“because if i did, then standing up for you wouldn’t be worth it.” 

“you’re throwing your life away for something that wasn’t even your fault,” leehan continued, his tone rising. “you have so much ahead of you, dongmin. why would you—what would you now?” he looks at taesan.

“i’ve thought about it for days. i’ll find a new opportunity, and…”

“and?”

“and a new university.”

leehan remained silent, not because he didn’t want to speak, but because he couldn’t find the words. his emotions overwhelmed him, and soon he was sobbing quietly. the tears weren’t just for taesan transferring schools.

it was the guilt crashing at him, knowing taesan was throwing away everything he had worked so hard for, all because of him. leehan buried his face in his hands, his shoulders trembling as he struggled to contain the weight of his sorrow.

rather than feeling sad about taesan’s departure, leehan was consumed by self-directed anger. he couldn’t shake the blame, couldn’t ignore the role he played in this unraveling mess.

“dongmin,” leehan choked out, his voice trembling, “your dream was supposed to start here! and now—” he paused, gasping for breath between sobs. “and now it’s all gone because of me. i’m so sorry...”

taesan turned to face him, his expression calm but filled with quiet determination. his voice was soft, yet steady. “donghyun, this is the life and dream i’m willing to set aside for you, but i will never let anyone disrespect you like that. you say i’m full of determination and purpose? donghyun, you’re the only purpose i ever need. and i want you to be happy.”

his lips curved into a faint, bittersweet smile. leehan shook his head desperately, gripping taesan’s hands tightly, his eyes pleading.

“how can i be happy if it costs me you? how can i stay here and not think about everything i’m losing?”

taesan’s smile faded, his gaze locking onto leehan’s. he studied his best friend, searching for something, perhaps a way to make this easier, or maybe the strength to let go. the silence between them was thick, each word that followed weighted with pain.

leehan continued, his voice breaking with emotion. “it hurts like hell to let you leave, but it feels just as wrong to make you stay. i caused all this mess, and keeping you here won’t change anything. it’ll only hold you back from finding new opportunities. i can’t do this, i’ll go with you.”

taesan sighed, the heaviness of their reality settling in. he knew leehan was right, but that didn’t make it any less painful. the bond they shared was deep, but this was a stage that required them to walk separate paths, no matter how much it hurt.

taesan’s lips tugged into another bittersweet smile. “i’ll be okay. it might take some time, but I’ll get there. i always do.” he reached out, placing a hand on leehan’s shoulder. “this isn’t about me, donghyun. you didn’t ask for this, but now that it’s happened, you can’t just ignore it. don’t throw away something good because you feel guilty. that’s not fair to you.”

leehan’s throat tightened, and he looked away, tears stinging his eyes. “i don’t deserve this. i don’t deserve you.”

taesan’s eyes softened, but there was a glimmer of pain. he let his hand fall away, his gaze lingering on leehan for a moment longer. “we’ll figure it out… just not now.” taesan said, though even he didn’t sound convinced.

leehan could only nod, unable to trust his voice. his heart screamed at him to say more, to fight harder, but he was frozen by the weight of inevitability crushing them. without another word, taesan turned and walked to his bedroom, the sound of it closing behind him echoing through the soon-empty apartment.

months passed, and life took them down different paths. taesan settled into his new university, finding his footing amidst unfamiliar faces and new challenges. he threw himself into his studies, into building a new life, but the cracks in his heart remained, each one bearing donghyun's name.

leehan stayed behind, moving through his days in a haze of routine. the apartment felt emptier without taesan’s presence, the silence now deafening where once it was comfortable. he told himself he was fine, that this distance was necessary, but late at night, when the world quieted, he felt the absence like a wound that refused to heal.

both were consumed by the demands of their new realities, yet neither could shake the haunting presence of what was left unsaid. taesan would catch himself staring at his phone, thumb hovering over leehan’s name, wanting to reach out but knowing it wouldn’t change anything. leehan, too, found himself staring at old photos, the smiles frozen in time a painful reminder of what they’d lost.

in the end, it wasn’t a dramatic falling out that separated them but the slow, inevitable drift of two people caught in the relentless current of life and guilt. they had once promised to figure it out, but the truth was, some things couldn’t be fixed.

sometimes, even the deepest bonds can be undone by the pressure of guilt, and sometimes, the kindest thing you can do is let go.

perhaps they were meant to be each other's anchor in their youth, a steady presence during the roughness of growing up. but as their lives evolved, it became clear that their paths, once intertwined, were now running parallel but separate. maybe they were never meant to follow each other into their dreams. instead, they had been each other's solace in the past years, a constant in a world that often felt anything but.

and though the distance grew, the echoes of their friendship lingered.

a silent reminder of what they had, and perhaps, what they were forced to leave behind.

reblogs are highly appreciated! if you reached here, thank you for taking your time to read <3 | @yuzuksi @leesolbeesol @candycane-lemonade @lionhanie @taylorluvation

[uceyliyahh]

NOVACANE

Summary: After dealing with a traumatic event in Desiree's past life she decided to keep her heart closed off and didn't have any desire to love again until she met him.

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE, PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

word count: 4378

Jey Uso x Desiree

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic

@hunnidmilly @celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @luvrsluxe @4milly @xbriexx @trippinsorrows @yyaktayak

Ø1

"Open up to me mama,"

"Let me show you how you're supposed to be loved, fuck what everyone else is talking about,"

"I want you and only you,"

"Don't hold nothing back from me, don't shut me out of what you're feeling because I am not going anywhere,"

DESIREE A few years back, I experienced something incredibly traumatic while I was with Jayden. During that time, all he seemed to care about was selling drugs with his gang friends or working on his rap album. If things didn't go as planned, he would come home and take out his frustrations on me.

I found myself feeling utterly powerless in my situation with him, but I was incredibly grateful to have the opportunity to move in with my best friend, Bianca. Her kindness and generosity in welcoming me into her home made all the difference, especially since I had nowhere else to turn.

I started to adopt a more indifferent and aloof attitude, particularly when men approached me for my number. I would simply ignore them as if they didn't exist. To make ends meet, I chose to work at a tattoo shop while also stripping on the side for some extra cash.

I made the difficult decision to shut myself off from everyone, especially men, to protect my heart from further pain and the possibility of abuse. That all changed one fateful night at the strip club when I met Jey. He completely transformed my outlook on life, but I was determined not to let him in without a fight.

I found myself at the airport, eagerly anticipating the arrival of my luggage so I could finally catch up with Montez. She had been deeply immersed in her wrestling career, and I had grown quite close to her husband—almost like siblings at this point. As soon as I spotted my bag making its way down the conveyor belt, I quickly snatched it up, ensuring it was indeed mine before heading out to reunite with them.

I took my phone from my pocket and sent a quick message to Montez, informing him that I was heading outside.

IMESSAGE 💬 Desi🖕🏽: Montez I'll be outside waiting on you Tez😀: aight then little girl bring yo' slow ass on mane Desi🖕🏽: yk sometimes I just want to punch the hell out of you? Tez😀: whatever I am taller than you honey so relax with all of that Desi🖕🏽: you're so annoying honestly you better be here Tez😀: aight

I wheeled my suitcase toward the airport exit, eager to step outside and await Montez's arrival. Finding a nearby bench, I settled down with my luggage, patiently anticipating his appearance.

I grew up in Texas, where I had the chance to explore the beautiful countryside during my childhood. As a teenager, I moved to North Carolina, and now I find myself living in Tennessee with my best friend.

While browsing my social media, I noticed that Jayden has sent me a follow request on Instagram. This is the same person who frequently creates new accounts or uses different phone numbers just to reach out to me, all in an attempt to harass me.

He faces numerous charges, particularly concerning domestic violence, yet his mother foolishly provided bail money to secure his release. I used to hold a great deal of respect for both his parents, but that changed after the incident when he assaulted me.

As I mindlessly scrolled through my social media, oblivious to the fact that he had followed me, a sudden honk from a car broke my concentration. I glanced up just in time to see a sleek Mercedes Benz arriving at the airport. When the window rolled down, I was surprised to see Montez behind the wheel.

"Yo! Desi!" He yelled while waving his hand.

I flashed him a warm smile as I tucked my phone into my pocket, rolling my luggage alongside me toward his car. He stepped out from the driver's side and wrapped me in a hug before lifting my suitcase and placing it in the trunk.

As I swung the door open and slid into the car, I noticed him returning to the driver's side. He climbed in, fastening his seatbelt just as I secured mine.

As he drove away from the airport, we headed towards their house, which was an hour's journey from our location. It promised to be a lengthy drive. Montez had some music playing softly in the background, creating a pleasant atmosphere. Meanwhile, I gazed out the window, taking in the diverse landscapes and neighborhoods that surrounded us.

I believe I made just one trip to Tennessee to see Bianca, and that was during my time with Jayden, when I was pleading with him to allow me to visit my best friend.

I broke the quiet in the car by saying, "I really appreciate you letting me stay with y'all, Montez," and he responded with a warm smile.

"Girl, you're more than welcome to stay with us, Bianca couldn't stop talking about you," Montez responded.

"Why are you here instead of going all around the world with your wife?"

He chuckled at me, "I had to come pick you up Desi since Bianca couldn't due to her schedule but after I drop you off to the crib I gotta catch a flight," I listen attentively while nodding my head in the process.

I thought I would be home alone until they returned from their events, considering they are professional wrestlers. To make the most of my time, I secured a job at a nearby tattoo shop and strip club, ensuring I wouldn't have to spend my days job hunting.

I was offered the job immediately because of my previous experiences back home. I'm optimistic that my time at the Strip Club will be smooth and free of any drama, considering how things typically unfold in that environment.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ Montez had just dropped me off before heading to the airport to reunite with Bianca for their upcoming events. As I settled into my room, I began unpacking my belongings, carefully placing everything in the dresser to keep things neat and organized.

I treated myself to some adorable work outfits for my shift at the club tonight, and I have a strong feeling I'll earn a good amount while I'm there. As I was getting ready, my phone buzzed on the bed, and I quickly picked it up to see a message from Bianca.

IMESSAGE 💬 Binky💗: Hey Desiii just checking in Desi🫶🏽: Hey! Yes I am just now settling in atm Binky💗: that's good how do you like the room? Desi🫶🏽: it's really nice and the bed is comfortable too Binky💗: I'm glad when I come back imma show you around even though you been here before probably forgot all of the places 😭 Desi🫶🏽: probably do need a refresher ngl 😭😭 Binky💗: don't worry girl I gotchu fr you start your new job tonight? Desi🫶🏽: yeah I hope it don't be no drama 😒 Binky💗: yeah I feel you on that I will see you when I get back have a good day at work Desi🫶🏽: kk girly 🤍

I wrapped up organizing my clothes in the drawer and glanced at my phone, realizing I still had a few hours before I needed to head to work tonight. Deciding to save some cash instead of splurging at the airport, I made my way downstairs to whip up a quick meal. After all, those airport prices can really add up!

Bianca's house captivated me with its stunning aesthetic. As I stepped inside, I admired the decor before heading to the cabinet to gather ingredients for my meal. The cooking process began, and I felt inspired by the beautiful surroundings.

I learned to cook on my own because my mother was often absent, while my father was more present in my life. By the time she returned when I was about seventeen, I felt a disconnect and didn't want to forge a relationship with her. It just seemed uncomfortable.

My father was a dedicated worker who always ensured that we had food on the table and everything we needed. I had hoped for the same commitment from Jayden, but instead, he neglected me and treated me poorly.

I almost lost my bond with my father due to Jayden being rude and aggressive towards him but I finally made the decision to leave him without him knowing.

. His threatening messages and calls created a sense of fear about what he might do to me. However, now that I am away, I refuse to let those past experiences affect me any longer.

I finished cooking my food while heading towards the living room I sat the plate down along with my drink grabbing the remote as I turned on something on the TV.

As I sat in front of the television, a thought crossed my mind: if I hadn't experienced everything I did, would I ever find love again? Would I have the courage to open my heart to someone new?

I often doubted whether anyone could truly understand me. I considered myself a fractured spirit, 'or at least that's what I believed.' I constantly reminded myself to guard my vulnerability, convinced that opening up to anyone, especially a man, would only reveal their indifference.

I believed I had finished my meal, so I stood up from the couch and made my way to the kitchen to clean my dishes. After washing them, I loaded everything into the dishwasher for a thorough clean.

I returned to the living room to catch the rest of the show playing on the TV, hoping to squeeze in some sleep before my shift at work tonight.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

JEY As my friends and I made our way to the strip club, we were excited to catch a glimpse of some incredible performances and, if fortune smiled upon us, maybe even enjoy a little fun ourselves. Once we stepped inside, our attention was immediately drawn to the mesmerizing dancers on the pole, all while the pulsating music set the perfect atmosphere for an unforgettable night.

We settled into the luxurious satin couches, enjoying the view of the girls. I casually spread out, my gaze fixed on them, playfully giving them a light tap on their backsides before slipping some cash into their outfits.

A girl named Ke'liyah approached me and started dancing on my lap. As I observed her movements, I couldn't help but notice how I instinctively reached for her waist. She was attractive, though perhaps not as stunning as I had initially imagined.

The guys were encouraging me to fuck her, which I wanted to do because she was all up on me like this, while she was kissing all over my face and neck, which made my dick a little firm in my sweats.

Feeling her tongue against my ear before whispering, "Come fuck me with that big dick of yours," she said as my eyes became dark and filled with lust.

As she stood up from my lap, I slipped her some extra cash while she took my hand and led me into a private room. The cheers from the guys echoed behind us, prompting me to roll my eyes. I knew this was just a one-time experience, after all.

There was one girl who truly stood out to me; I had never noticed her before, and she seemed like a fresh face. Her radiant chocolate skin shimmered in the light, and her outfit perfectly accentuated her figure. As she applied lip gloss and adjusted her hair, she exuded a captivating charm that was impossible to ignore.

As I began to take in her features, I found myself already in the private room with Ke'Liyah. She had closed the door behind us, and my focus shifted entirely to her as she approached, the sound of her heels echoing in the stillness of the space.

I seized her by the neck, pressing my lips against hers with an intense passion. As our tongues intertwined, I lifted her by her thighs, carrying her to the bed. She eagerly tugged at my shirt and waistband, adding to the electric tension between us.

Very impatient I see I didn't waste no time I took off my shirt along with my sweats and boxers as my dick spring up hitting my stomach.

I gently withdrew from the kiss, guiding her head down with a firm yet careful hold on her hair, ensuring my grip was secure as she began to pleasure me.

As her tongue was swirling around my tip bobbing her head up and down I thrusted my hips inside of her mouth caused me to groan in pleasure, I clenched my teeth gazing down at her seeing her take all of me inside of her warm mouth.

The warmth of her mouth wanted me bust a nut inside of her throat so fast but I needed to be in that pussy first probably been with a bunch of guys before me lucky for me I brought protection.

"You like this daddy?" She muttered. I nodded my head while I guided her head back down on me.

I pushed my dick deep inside of her throat causing her to gag on me seeing tears forming in her eyes, "mhm, just like that baby," I cooed while forcing myself not  to nut inside of her throat.

She continued to suck me up good as I kept guiding her movements on my mushroom tip, I didn't want to nut inside of her mouth—not yet so I pulled her away from my dick pushing her on the bed on all fours.

I needed to be in that.

I pushed her panties to the side while putting on a condom before sliding into her harshly and began beating her shit up, this girl didn't mean anything to me only the one that caught my eye.

It was something about her I couldn't catch before coming in this room it almost looked like she just kept to herself and didn't interact with none of the men unless it was a lap dance, I need to come back up here to see her.

I kept pushing my dick deeper inside of her as her moans were filling up the room while I pushed her head in deeper into the bed listening to her muffled moans in the sheets.

"Ouuu daddy you're so deep,"

I didn't respond while pounding her shit into an oblivion while feeling my dick twitch inside of her knowing that I was about to bust soon.

All I could think about was shawty only her I hope she'll still be here when I leave this room, I quicken my pace inside of Ke'Liyah while she was screaming from the top of her lungs.

She was enjoying this way to much, too much for my liking since I had her head mushed in so I didn't have to see her face, I felt myself letting go as I came inside of the condom.

I pulled out from her while removing the condom from my dick seeing all of my semen inside of it, I got up from the bed placing inside of the trash can before getting myself together.

"That was quick," Ke'Liyah commented.

"Yeah, I got things to do shawty," I said while putting on my boxers along with my sweats.

"Seems, like you weren't enjoying it," I didn't respond to her as I grabbed my stuff and walked out the door leaving her dumbfounded.

As I stepped out of the private room, I noticed the guys still mingling with some girls. My focus shifted to the captivating girl I had watched earlier, dancing on the pole in a way that was unlike anything I had ever witnessed before.

She twirled gracefully around the pole, defying gravity as my gaze remained locked on her, utterly entranced by her beauty and talent. The moment our eyes met, a magnetic connection formed; her gaze held mine unwaveringly as she executed a flawless split, effortlessly transitioning into a sultry move that left me breathless.

I glanced down and realized I was aroused by her actions. I made my way to the stage, unable to take my eyes off her. As she approached, her hands explored my body, igniting a desire within me to discover everything about her.

She stands out from all the other girls in this club. As she took a seat on the stage right in front of me, she put on a captivating performance that I truly appreciated, playfully bringing her curves close as I reveled in the moment.

I gently pressed my lips against her chest for a fleeting moment before she stepped back. Seizing the opportunity, I wrapped my arms around her hips, drawing her nearer. With a tender kiss on her neck, I leaned in to whisper sweetly in her ear.

"What's yo' name mama? never seen you around here before," I whispered in her ear.

"Desiree, and you?" she said softly.

The atmosphere was alive with the vibrant sounds of 'Spin' by Megan Thee Stallion featuring Victoria Monet, creating a perfect backdrop as we locked eyes, lost in the moment together.

"My name is Joshua but people that I'm close with calls me Josh, or Jey whatever you want to call me Ma," I said.

Her smile lit up her face, and I couldn't help but think how adorable she looked. As she kept working her magic on me, I softly traced circles on her backside, savoring the moment.

I admire her body she had a great body shape everything hugged her so perfectly.

"Joshua huh? You're handsome I must say but I have to go," Desiree said as she got up from the ground, but I stopped her in her tracks.

She looked at me with a confused expression as I handed her a wad of cash along with my number tucked into her clothing. After gently kissing her hand, I said, "I'll see you again, princess," watching her walk away. I couldn't resist admiring the way her curves moved in that outfit.

I walked back over to the couches seeing the guys smirking at me.

"Yo, Uce, who was that shawty you was just talking to?" Zilla asked.

"Aye, all bets are off with her Uce," I said as I seen him roll his eyes at me.

"Man, fuck all of that, sounds like you tryna get with her and I'm tryna hit for real," was he fucking serious right now?

I just waved him off like I didn't listen to him as we continued to stay at the strip club for a little longer.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

DESIREE As I slipped into my usual attire in the locker room, I couldn't help but admire the stack of cash I had earned for the night, particularly the bills from a guy named Joshua. There was something uniquely intriguing about him—something that set him apart from every other man I had ever met.

There was something unique about his presence; it seemed as if he genuinely wanted to reach out to me. Yet, I reminded myself to guard my vulnerability and keep my emotions in check around men. It simply wasn't worth the risk.

I sensed a shove from behind, and when I turned, I found Ke'Liyah glaring at me, her face twisted in anger. In response, I shot her a fierce look, ready to stand my ground.

"Girl what?" I asked.

"New girl don't be coming up in here tryna still people's man," she said.

I raised an eyebrow at her, "excuse me? Girl he came onto me he seemed more attracted to me than you maybe your pussy wasn't good enough," I retorted as all of the girls kept their mouth shut.

I kept waving the cash he had handed me before I stepped off the stage. "Check out all this money he gave me! Did he share any with you? I doubt it—looks like you didn't impress him enough, Liyah." The more I provoked her, the angrier she became, but honestly, I couldn't care less. She was acting like they were an item or something.

I returned the money to my bag and zipped it up, but just then, she shoved me hard, igniting my anger. In a swift motion, I grabbed her by the hair, pulling her closer so our eyes locked in a fierce stare.

"Don't fucking mess with me bitch because I'm not the one," I shoved her harshly on the ground before heading out the door 'god why do I have to deal with this shit today over a man'

I climbed into the car, tossing my bags onto the backseat as I pressed the ignition button of the BMW. Running my fingers through my hair, I navigated out of the parking lot, eager to make my way home.

I reached into the glove compartment and retrieved a pre-roll blunt, seeking a moment of tranquility. With a lighter ready in my hand, I sparked it up and took a deep puff, letting the smoke ease my tension.

As I lit the candle and started my hour-long drive home, I turned on my favorite playlist on Apple Music. Yet, for some strange reason, thoughts of him kept swirling in my mind, refusing to fade away.

His striking features and the way he tenderly kissed my neck sent shivers down my spine. The sensation of his hands exploring me ignited feelings I had never experienced before. This level of affection was entirely new, and it left me utterly enchanted.

Not even from Jayden

He treated me with such calmness and tenderness that it surprised me he didn't lead me to the private rooms for intimacy. I could sense his arousal pressing against me as he drew me nearer, yet I couldn't help but wonder, 'why didn't he engage with me like the others did?' 'Why was he showing me this kind of affection? ' My mind was racing with these questions, desperately seeking clarity.

After what felt like an eternity, I finally arrived home. I retrieved my bag from the backseat and switched off the BMW with a simple push of a button before stepping into the house.

I used the key Montez had given me to unlock the door, then slipped off my shoes and neatly placed them on the shoe rack beside me. After closing the door securely, I made my way upstairs.

I stepped into my bedroom, closing the door softly behind me. Exhausted, I collapsed onto my bed, the weight of the day pressing down on me. As I rummaged through my bag, my eyes landed on his number still saved in my phone. A thought crossed my mind: 'Should I reach out to him?' I quickly dismissed it, telling myself, 'No, Desi, don't be foolish.' Yet, despite my better judgment, I found myself pulling out my phone and starting to text him.

IMESSAGE 💬 Desiree🦋: hey...is this Joshua? It's Desiree from the club? Joshua💵: What's up mamas I see you finally text me did you make it home? Desiree🦋: yeah I did Joshua💵: that's good but what's up? Desiree🦋: I wanted ask you something bout Ke'Liyah if that's okay? Joshua💵: im all ears baby

These nicknames were going to kill me if he didn't stop.

Desiree🦋: well me and her had got into it because of you saying how I shouldn't be stealing people's mans because I'm new, but did anything happen before you seen me? Joshua💵: I mean...I fucked her ofc but she came onto me I really wasn't feeling her Desiree🦋: oh why? Joshua💵: because she didn't catch my attention like you did when I left the private room Desiree🦋: me? Joshua💵: yes you, you caught my attention dancing like that on that pole Desiree🦋: it's nothing honestly just self taught honestly 😅😅 Joshua💵: mhm you was beautiful asf doing allat mama especially being all up on me like that today man you had me bricked up Desiree🦋: oh?😳 I'll take that as an compliment Joshua💵: but back on track you're saying that she's claiming me when all I did was fuck her? Desiree🦋: something like that I suppose seems like she was jealous to me Joshua💵: you gon' be at work tmr?

Why did he wanted to know that? What was he seeking out from me?

Desiree🦋: yeah to practice some new moves for tmr night why? Joshua💵: might come swing by and holla at you before I leave Desiree🦋: leaving? To where ? Joshua💵: imma professional wrestler baby doll it's my job to travel all around the world Desiree🦋: just like my best friend Bianca Joshua💵: that's yo' bestie? She talks about a certain some to my sister-in-law a lot I didn't know it was you Desiree🦋: yep that's Bianca for you 😭 Joshua💵: well imma let you get some rest beautiful Desiree🦋: kk gn Joshua💵: night 💗

As I reclined on my bed, my phone resting on my chest, disbelief washed over me. I had just texted him and engaged in a deep conversation. 'What was this overwhelming sensation he stirred within me?' 'I reminded myself not to fall for him—come on, Desi, don't be foolish; he's just going to take advantage of you.' Negative thoughts swirled in my mind, and I tried to dismiss the emotions before settling in for the night, having already showered at work.

I switched off the lamp beside me and set my phone on the small dresser, my gaze drifting up to the popcorn ceiling as my mind wandered into a sea of contemplation.

I couldn't let him not now or never no matter how friendly he seemed I'm keeping myself closed off I am a broken soul with a fucked up past trauma.

He wouldn't even know what to do with me I am not a good person to fall in love with.

I can't let him in Desiree don't do it.

As I settled into the bed, my mind wandered, leading me in and out of slumber, gently lulling me into a peaceful drift.

Don't let him in Desiree, don't

NOVACANE

biancabelairwwe, y2kjayden, uceyjucey, and others liked your post.

desifromtheblock: money go all around fo' me 🤭😩 biancabelairwwe: perioddd girl i love the outfit desifromtheblock: @ biancabelairwwe thank you bestie 💗 y2kjayden: you became a whore? No nigga would want to date yo' ass ke'liyahh: girl what fucking ever you just got lucky he'll show up again wanting me not you desifromtheblock: @ ke'liyah bitch go off yo' self before pressing me hon uceyjucey: sexy ass 😩😩 desifromtheblock: @ uceyjucey 👀👀

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A/n: hiiii I am back with another story i honestly got inspired by this book I am currently reading atm which made me want to do this. I hope Desiree could heal or at least open up to Jey soon.

But I hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments below

STAY UCEY

(2.)

[kkdoesstuff]

I’m on your side, thought Hermione, staring at Shacklebolt, but you’re not on mine. 

sometimes i think hermione is a little too slow on what's going on around her, but when she starts putting them puzzle pieces together??? when she starts realizing with her real eyes?? GIRL! those are my favorite hermione moments.

Hermione felt the pain and disappointment hardening her heart like a physical pressure in her chest. In that moment, she didn’t give a single solitary fuck whether Malfoy cut out the tongue of every Death Eater in town while Nott burned the black-market brokers to the ground.

yes yes yes yes yes! the way that everyone is just agreeing and insisting to her that malfoy could never respect her, take care of her, that he wants to hurt her, that he sees her as lower than him just brings it right back around to THEM (ron, the ministerr, molly, harry, ginny!!!!) thinking those things about HER. fuck them hermy-own! they tryna hold u back. they hate to see u rise and succeed! TAKE CONTROL!!!

Everyone loved a strong, capable, take-charge witch—so long as she stuck to doing their scut work. 

YES! RISE MORALLY GRAY HERMIONE, RISE! they never wanted u to rise above ur station, ho! they never wanted u to be better than them, they just wanted to coddle u into submission, bitch! as long as u are working in their favor and sacrificing urself for their own self-interests they'll keep telling u how great, wonderful, powerful, smart u are until they can discard u and keep u in ur lil' place where they ignore u and disagree with u and keep u small, never supporting u or going up to bat for u or ur causes! FUCK THAT AND FUCK THEM!!! let's fucking gooooo 🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣

this is my favorite song lmfao and now she sees that draco is reeally on her side and supports her and will do whatever she says?? yes?? pls!!!

*giggles excitedly and kicks my little feet* guess who's about to get into BLOODY, SLUTTY, AND PATHETIC by WhatMurdah?

ME, bitch 🥰🥰🥰

it was published over about 5 months in 2024 (so it's complete obvs, i don't read WIPs sorry not sorry), is 21 chapters, and just over 195K words! so a nice sized fic that i'm about to devour like a starving man, tysm.

i am and have truly been looking forward to this fic ever since someone on reddit said they have never seen draco simp and pine and be stupid for hermione harder than he ever has in this fic. i think they said she slaps him in public and then he is just like, "omg she fucking touched me!!!!!!!! *nuts*" like... LMAO yes bitch. yes pls! and then that possessive draco tag is staring at me like 👀😈 and i'm staring back like 👁👄👁💖

this will be my FIRST EVER marriage law fic and i am so happy that it is this one. i can't wait to see what happenssssss. i have tried to avert my eyes from the hype, summaries, think pieces and such because i'm not trying to set myself up or know too much or be disappointed or go off anyone else's interpretation, i just want to let the fic take me where it's gonna take me!!!! i want to scream, cry, giggle, pine, laugh, throw up, feel the feels, etc. my body is ready!!! *rubs hands together vigorously*

summary:

“In my humble opinion there’s only three things that men should be and that is bloody, slutty, and pathetic.” And, on a good day, Draco Malfoy can be all three. When war heroine Hermione Granger and Azkaban-tattooed war criminal Draco Malfoy are forced to wed as part of Shacklebolt’s controversial Reconciliation Act, they openly fight the match and each other—their public brawls breathlessly reported by the press. Secretly, a deeply traumatized Draco delights in Hermione’s attention and pines for a real marriage with her—even as her forced proximity to the Black family magic irritates the cursed scar Bellatrix left on her arm, reminding her why she can never truly trust or forgive him. Then Hermione discovers that Draco’s blood will soothe the scar . . . and Draco is willing to trade his blood for her body. (With post-war blood purity politics, black market potioneers, Pansy Parkinson’s career advice, the Malfoys blackmailing Hermione’s Wizengamot opposition, BDE Neville Longbottom hunting Death Eaters, a slutty Theo Nott serving as Draco’s right-hand man, and Crookshanks loose in Malfoy Manor.)

tags: Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Marriage law, Forced Marriage, Post-War, Angst, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pining/Possessive Draco Malfoy, Morally Grey Hermione Granger; rating: EXPLICIT

very interested by the pairings outside of D/Hr which are Pansy/Neville, and Theo/Everyone lmfao we LOVE a slutty theo, we truly do. i can't wait to see the friendship between him and draco in this one!!! i love their friendship so so so soooo much. (sidenote, i might have to read some theo/harry fics soon enough but that's neither here nor there) ANYWAYS apparently neville has big dick energies in BSP so i'm ready for that. crookshanks is innis bitch where he BELONGS, i love me some crookshanks i truly do.

anything else...? nope i don't think so LET'S MF GOOOO

[hexedwinchester]

Why Being Manipulated into Letting Gadreel in a Huge Deal for Sam?

I know a lot of Dean Girls were very upset (and will be upset after reading this post) with Sam when Dean asked him if the roles were reversed if he would have done the same thing (letting an angel possess him to save his life). Sam simply says no! Some fans have gone to the extent of calling him selfish but no, Sam is not being selfish in that scene. It wasn't that he didn't care about his brother. He really does and that is why him saying no is actually a good thing.

Now see, Dean never had to go through the whole loss of bodily autonomy due to a possession issue (not until after he was possessed by Michael but that's way after the Gadreel plot) like Sam has been and disturbingly a lot more number of times than Dean's single rodeo with Otherworld Michael (or is it AU Michael? whatever!). Just to keep the argument simple, I am purely focusing on the loss of bodily autonomy purely from a possession POV.

When Meg possessed Sam in S2, she used his body to kill other hunters, to assault Jo and to beat Dean. Maybe she did a lot worse than that, we don't know. Who is left with the trauma of that knowledge? Sam!

The Gary-Sam body swap. This one though seems funny on the surface, it's actually kinda disturbing because Gary used Sam's body to have sex and the kid. Kinda gross enough already but that dumb kid could have easily handed over the vessel to Lucifer. Imagine, that's how it played and Sam was back into his body. Now who is trapped with Lucifer, the Devil? Sam!

Speaking of, understandably saying yes to Lucifer was Sam's call to put him back in the box but it didn't go down without blood on his hand. The moment Lucifer took control of Sam's body, he killed the demons from Sam's life that deceived him. I am guessing these were possessed people he killed in the process and not just wisps of black smoke. At Stull cemetery, he exploded Cas to bits, snapped Bobby's neck and beat up Dean to pulp! all by whose hands? Sam's!

Gadreel's possession did help Sam get better but at what cost? Kevin's death? How many nightmares did Sam have seeing his hands burning Kevin hollow? Now let me point out the aftermath of this possession which is somehow even worse than the actual possession: Crowley skewered Sam's brains with needles, hell, he even possessed Sam to wake him as if one possession was not enough. Sam literally had two supernatural beings possessing him at one time! Don't even get me started on the painful, torturous grace extraction process. Sam was willing to die in that moment because he believed his life wasn't worth saving, definitely not at the cost of Kevin's life!

Before this role reversal scene, Dean wasn't possessed by anything, so he doesn't understand how horrible it is to lose autonomy over one's mind and body. I don't expect him to grasp the gravity of it. He sees it as a healing from within. For him, if 'ends justifying the means' that's all that matters.

When every single possession has caused nothing but grave trauma to Sam Winchester, tell me why would he or anyone for that matter, in their sane heads do this on their own brother, especially when they love them so much?

Here's another very real life perspective for all those who feel Sam saying 'no' if the situation was reversed was a horrible betrayal and proof that he doesn't love Dean enough: Ever had someone you love on life support or gone through a situation where you had to put down your beloved pet? Why do we do this? is it because we don't love them? because we don't care? no! Because sometimes, it is better to let them go than to prolong their suffering by putting them through this pain. So next time you feel Sam was being selfish, or disloyal to Dean or that he didn't care enough, think about a loved one suffering through something horrible because you didn't have the guts to let go!

[puppppppppy]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[icewindandboringhorror]

sneepy cozy....

[tittyinfinity]

when you're disabled, being financially abused by your parents never ends

[killuaisaprincess]

Everyone always whines and cries how everyone ignores G//on

AND IF YOU DARE TO BRING UP KIS TRAMUA THEY ARE LIKE BUT WHAT ABOUT G

What about g KIS FANS ARE ANNOYING THEY SAY

Omg WHAT ABOUT G

MEANWHILE BACK WHEN I WAS ON A BLOCKING SPREE ALL I EVER SEE IS ANALYSIS POSTS ECT ABOUT G G AND HIM AND HIS TRAMUA AND THE BOTH TOGETHER MAYBE BUT KI ALONE MAYBE 1

SO I DO NOT EVEN WANNA HEAR IT

AND LET KI FANS CARE ABOUT KI

JUST LIKE U CARE ABOUT G

Stg these people wanna act like Ki’s life is so easy and CAA wasn’t hard on Ki CUZ WHAT ABOUT G