#this was a delightful find and also let me on to the fact that lily was on the dirty laundry game changer episode? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hxlcyon · 2 years ago

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❥ ❥ ❝ miss me already? ❞

ace trappola x gn!reader | wc: 6.8k~

summary: your boyfriend (of now approximately a minute and 47 seconds) makes a bet with you: “those idiots”—your best friends of first-years—won’t even notice a thing even if we weren’t dating.” and the funniest part? he’s probably right.

warnings: pure fluff! shenanigans! lots of cursing! friends (idiots) to lovers. one joke gendered term of milady but i think that meme is gender universal lol (coming from a masc nb)

a/n: this is for @dulcesiabits's “who is the prefect dating?!” collaboration on tumblr! thank you so so much for allowing me to write for ace, the little man, the stinky guy. also MAJOR shoutouts to lily and ct for wading through this mess, i appreciate you more than you know

“Thanks for covering me.” Your sigh is accompanied by a satisfying crunch beneath your shoes, a stray leaf the unfortunate target of your latest frustrations. “Even if you were late to class.” It wasn’t like being caught on your phone by Trein was the worst of your worries, but a death sentence of papers and reprimands was, in fact, preferably avoided if you could help it.

“You owe me one.” Ace replies airily, slowing his stride to bump your side with his bag. “What’re you going to do without me?” Like he wasn’t the asshole who made you check your phone because of his sudden impromptu reenactment of an earthquake via spam text.

08:30 [ ace ]: fuck im late

08:30 [ ace ]: HELP

08:31 [ ace ]: distract him

08:31 [ ace ]: catch something on fire idc

08:33 [ ace ]: i cant believe ur gonna make me take the L

“Have an easier life, that’s for sure.” He makes a vague noise between a squeaky trumpet and a chicken, looking as if you’ve insulted generations upon generations of the Trappola bloodline with a single throwaway comment. “What was I even supposed to do?” Several expressions cycle on his face—focused, thinking, trouble—before he makes a decision and steps closer to you to ‘accidentally’ swing his bag into you again... only to eat shit as you retaliate and shove it back.

“Told you, catch something on fire.” However, the movement is enough to make you lose your footing and free fall to the ground; about to meet miserable, sweet, concrete Death before Ace grabs your arm and catches your face with his chest. “Not that.” Whatever you say next comes out muffled, noise and mind distorted by the smell of cherries?

But, the peace doesn’t last long, especially with Ace, as he pulls back enough for you to catch his lips twitching with another one-liner. “Oooh, can’t take your hands off of me.” He instantly catches your next fist, “if you like me this much, just say so.”

“Oh, Ace.” Time to switch tactics. You latch onto the front of his shirt, tightening your fists with enough force to wrinkle both his blazer and vest. “You’re totally sooo cool and don’t pick your nose and I am sooooo deeply in love with you that I just,” he begins cackling as you shake him, “can’t-help-but-choke-you-out!”

“What happened to boundaries? No safe word?” It doesn’t matter that he’s practically being rag-dolled for all of NRC to see, no matter how much you try to shake and activate that one brain cell of his, giggles continue to keep spewing out, taunting and delighted.

“I hate you—just! Shut! Up!!” You’re gonna throttle him. No one’s gonna find his body, not if you can help it.

“Wow, love you too.”

“Sure don't act like it!”

“What? I do!” You let up and he doubles over, gasping as he breaks into another fit of giggles. “How can I not?” He rubs his hand over his face, winded as he looks up at you, red eyes shining.

“What? Say that again? One more time for the audience in the back.” It’s meant to be an innocent tease, but for some reason, it sparks a knee-jerk wide-eyed reaction from him as a simple word slips from the depths of his very soul.

“Shit.”

“What?” You repeat, squinting at him. “What you just said, right? Going on about how I’m so lova—”

He begins to bounce restlessly in place, words coming out harsh and forced. “I didn’t say that.”

“Are you seriously trying to gaslight me? In broad daylight?”

“No. That was just a normal thing, you’re making it weird. Geez.” His iconic smirk warbles and it almost seems as if the heart over his eye begins to grow runny.

“What does that even mean?”

“Definitely not what you’re thinking.”

“Ace.” His whole body is flushing. It’s enough that you can make it out from his ears to the sliver of skin at his wrist. “Look at me.” He refuses, half a second from booking it. “Do you—”

Then, suddenly filled with resolve, he faces you properly... only to cup your cheeks and squish them together between his palms. “Ooooh we’re never going to talk about this! Let’s move on~” The voiceover is the worst that you’ve ever heard, high and lilted with fear and cheap falsettos.

The sound of your palms practically patty-caking Ace’s face into a sandwich bounces against the statues of the Seven surrounding you (what a familiar place). He winces but doesn’t let go as you two proceed to stand in an awkward, competitive deadlock. “I’m not letting go until you tell me what’s up.” You manage through squished lips.

“You’re annoying.” He grits his teeth in irritation, staring straight at your forehead like he was weighing the outcome of embarrassment and pain if he head-banged you and ran.

“No, you.”

“You’re such a kid.” Ace wiggles under your grip, attempting to escape only to fail to your stubbornness. “It took you this long to notice my feelings? Sevens, how dense can you get?”

You roll your eyes. “If you want to actually go out, the offer is about to expire in approximately three seconds.”

“Wait.” His grip slackens.

“Three...” You begin counting. “You’re kidding me.” His lips twitch, throat bobbing as panic begins to settle in.

“You’re not going to really make me—” You finish off in a singular breath. “Twoone.”

“Wait, that’s cheating—hold up!”

“Should’ve confessed your undying love for me.”

“You’re the worst. You’re literally the absolute worst.” His thumb traces hearts on your cheekbones, words coming out breathless as the tension finally drops from his body. “Is this what you do? Play with a poor man’s feelings? Heart breaker much?”

“Yeah yeah, let me go and hold my hand already.” He obliges, shaking his head disbelievingly as his fingers come down to intertwine with your own. His grip is tight, assured this time as his pulse drums loud and steady against your wrist. Without a word, he squeezes your hand, just once, unabashed affection making itself fully apparent with your permission.

Though, you only get four steps ahead before Ace interrupts, “You had a crush on me? That’s embarrassing.”

“Oh my God. I can’t believe I’m going to break up with you already.”

“Too late. You signed the contract, breaking it involves a fee of seven million madols by tomorrow.”

“Did I? Did I really? You didn’t even ask me out yet.”

With his free hand, he crosses his thumb and pointer, winking at you as he brings your interlocked hands up and presses a kiss to them. “Milad—”

“No.” He snorts, dropping it to swing your hands.

You see his mouth move, and the possibility occurs to you that maybe, for once in this lifetime, he’s about to say something profound. What comes out instead is: “Wouldn’t it be funny if we pretended we weren’t? Dating, I mean. Just for a week.” The grip on your hand gets tighter as he quickly backtracks, bothered. ”We’re still going to date afterward—no it’s non-negotiable—but I bet the guys wouldn’t notice a thing out of place.”

“Why?” Wasn’t Ace the type to hold it over their heads? Or, at the least, take the opportunity to be obnoxious about it?

“They’re the types who won’t notice even if you write it on their foreheads.” Reward of the year for I-Love-My-Friends goes to Ace Trappola, without a doubt. “Wanna see if they have a chance of noticing if we don’t tell them outright.”

You think about it for a moment, “Bet you’re gonna be the first one to expose yourself.”

“Says you.” He takes the opportunity to lean into you, lanky arms taking up space at your sides. “I’ll even bet Deuce on it.”

Not very far off in the distance, Deuce sneezes into his arm (properly! just like his mom had told him). “Ah, am I getting sick...?”

14:30 [ ace ]: “miss me?”

"What? Need me to say I do?” There’s an airy sort of tease to your tone, feather-light as it drifts down the empty halls. ”Down bad much?"

It’s entirely by accident that Jack—of all people—manages to overhear you as he scrambles to adjust his hold on a stack of boxes dangling precariously off of his arms. Did he just hear that correctly? The Ramshackle Prefect having a private conversation with... family (well, that doesn't make any sense considering your circumstances)? A long-distance friend...? Possibly?

“That’s not a no.” A lover?

“Loser, why wouldn’t I miss you?" His ears flatten with embarrassment, mentally cursing himself for having such good hearing as he presses his shoulder flat into the wall—a feeble attempt to stabilize the boxes. It worked, only temporarily, to slightly balance the cardboard already determined to give him several concussions.

After all, it’s not as if he could help the size of his ears or what they just happen to catch. It wasn’t like he meant to eavesdrop, especially on what seemed like such a private conversation. If he wasn't pressed for time or currently violating OSHA regulations, he would’ve absolutely upped and turned around to leave you to your privacy. You know... to be a good friend. But life (whoever said it was lemons didn’t consider it could be entire box fulls) was working against him. Dorm meetings, teacher favors, and the weight of the world practically rested in the room beyond—with you being the unintentional final boss blocking his way.

Whoever is on the other end seems to mirror his embarrassment, although for entirely different reasons. "Wow. It's almost like you like like me." The voice cracks, tinged pink as it trails off into a pathetic warble of a comeback.

"I mean... yeah? Isn't that obvious?"

The poor person on the other end starts to choke, "That's fucking cheesy." To each their own, but that sentiment was sweeter than it was cringe... at least, it was in Jack’s opinion.

Suddenly, something tips from a box and lands squarely on his head—right between his ears. The jarring sensation sends a jolt through him, lightning quick, and makes all his brain cells freeze to one singular thought: Wait. Like? Like... like? Can’t be. You literally said otherwise yesterday at lunch.

It was unclear how it exactly got from point “quit that, give my food back” to point “you ever think you’ll find someone here?” He really didn’t have any intentions, it was an absent-minded question. Really. But to say he wasn’t actually curious of your thoughts would be a complete lie.

“Relationships? At our NRC? Less likely than you think.” A fork hung from your mouth, suspended in your sarcasm. He distinctly remembers you squinting at him, huffing as your arms come out to gesture to the rest of the students surrounding you.

The fireplaces have exploded. A torrent of magic, roof high and smoldering, blazes unmercifully across students unfortunate enough to be close. There’s screaming. An entire portion of a half-eaten (and now charred) pastry lands directly on your lap. Someone breaks a window.

...All because a stray fire fairy in the kitchen got slop thrown on it.

Your brow goes even higher as if to further contest his comment.

Fair enough. Jack had thought, handing you a napkin and ending the conversation at exactly that.

Did you suddenly change your stance? Was romance blossoming right under his nose?

And... doesn't that voice sound kind of familiar?

“Like you don’t like it.” He hears you laugh sweetly, “You gonna break my poor heart and pretend otherwise?” He can hear something akin to muffled cursing on the other end of the phone, rising in pitch, denial, and excuses. ”Eh? Did he hang up...?”

There’s absolutely no way for him to prepare for the sequence of knob to hand to sheer, unadulterated pain as the door slams wide open and straight into your eavesdropper. "Jack?!"

Despite all his mental prayers to the Seven and a desperate grip, the boxes are knocked straight onto him and the floor, scattering an assortment of odd trinkets all over the ground. "Tsk—!" A broken bottle filled with some type of odd oil quickly spreads across the floors, making you both slip around and tumble until your knees pathetically hit the floor "Ow!"

“Jack... what the hell is this?”

Given up, no longer thriving, and lying face-down in the middle of the hall, Jack huffs out, “potion materials for Crewel.” His words come out loopy and muffled with a bit of a haze to them as his arm reaches forward and attempts to grab an orb spinning its way down the hall. He misses by just a hair and grunts in frustration as he begins to push himself up. “Were you...” He starts before abruptly stopping himself, that’s none of my business.

You snatch up a stray pen rolling away on the floor and toss it into a box. “What were you saying?”

“Nothing.” He dismisses you with a shake of his head, clearing away some of the earlier haze. ”I just need to get into that room.”

“...Oh!” You have to avoid grimacing or slipping as the oil seeps into your clothes, but gingerly the two of you slowly manage to become upright once again. “Here, let me help then.” He beams at you in appreciation as the both of you make quick work of the scattered materials. Recovering what you can of several broken bottles, everything gets put back into place and Jack is sent back on his merry way to his dorm—only a minute pressed for time.

When he arrives, out of breath and with shirt sleeves stained olive oil yellow, Jack groans, unable to hold back his immense disappointment. Was the whole catastrophe earlier for nothing? Were they really having a dorm meeting about someone making “snowmen” out of people’s shedding?

Pause. Wait. That is really weird.

Several Savanaclaw students squabble, pointing fingers at each other while Leona lazily watches on uninterested. Jack begins to astrally ascend out of sheer disbelief, scuffing his foot into the floor as someone attempts to sneak away—only to have multiple shoes thrown at their head. Loud conversation floats vaguely in and out of his head, but something much more pressing catches his attention. The Prefect dating someone... couldn’t be, I’m overthinking it.

📞 [ call ended ]

Somewhere, on the other end of a phone, a certain someone throws an arm over his face now burned crimson—his thumb still hovering right where the screen blinks your name. "Fuck, didn’t mean to hang up but...” He slumps down further over his desk, wanting to melt in shame. “At least it's over phone, but argh—! This is lame." He drags his hand down his face, internally debating if he should jump out the window or just call you back.

“Ace. Your phone. Now.” Trein’s voice echoed from the front of the detention classroom.

Shit.

Epel makes a face like he's swallowed an entire handful of sour cherries. "What's got you looking at your phone so much?"

Your fingers stop over the keyboard, "Uh." With a very deep gravity, as if the answer was something he couldn't afford to hear, you reply in the gravest tone possible, "Your mom."

You practically have to throw your body out of the way to avoid the round-house kick Epel aims at your head.

You're out shopping together, juggling the assortments that you've gotten from Sage Island’s most popular tourist spots. With your hands full and mouth muffled by a snack, you order, "Camf fu sorch up wheof the fefenal," yeah, he has no clue what you're saying, "onmf phon?"

Phone. Got it. He digs your phone from your pocket and, with much difficulty, swipes it open after nearly butchering your passcode to lock point. "For Seven's sake, put yer snack down already and properly speak!" He grumbles, grabbing your thumb and pressing it to your phone to open the damn thing up and search the location for... fefenal?

Though, as he types it up, your past searches float and bubble up.

> why does my cat keep drooling on me

> if i boil an egg in gatorade does it taste like gatorade

> date spots

Cause yer cat loves ya dumbass... why in the Sevens would you even think about that... wait. Wait. Date spots? He looks at you, then at himself in a shop mirror, then back at you. No... you wouldn't force someone to spend hours debating fruit freshness for a date... right? Though, to be very fair, he was good at telling which fruit was ripe and the tastiest. But you'd do better than that for a date, right?

"What were you looking for again?"

Finally, you answer him with a clear mouth. "General store." He gives you a weird look when you return a "what?"

"...Wouldja go on a date for fruit?"

"...Huh?"

"Nevermind."

"I mean—" Suddenly, a notification flashes across your screen. "tomorrow at noon, right?"

"Huh?" You repeat.

Epel simply shakes his head, "Clown emoji... second place emoji? Just texted you that and n’ a bunch of flame emojis." You look at him confused. "...One of the hearts is on fire?"

"Oh... Oh! Can you send back an image from my gallery?" He obliges and looks through the first five images.

"What the fuck is this."

"Don't worry."

"Whose mouth is this? Why do you have 15 photos of the inside of someone's mouth?!"

"Floyd."

"Ah." Makes sense. He sends the grossest one. A ping later and he instantly sees... a chin photo of Vil? Epel snorts, barreling down as he chuckles louder. "Pfta! Haha! Like this? Serves 'em right to look ugly for a change!"

"Hold up, lemme see." You lean over and start to snort too, "What do you mean? He looks really good right there."

"Don't kid! He’d kill ya if he saw this!"

"Never!" As the two of you absolutely rag on Vil (lovingly... probably) and proceed with your day, the thought that had begun worming its way into Epel's mind lingers even as the both of you miserably pile crates of apples into a carriage: could’ve sworn the number under that stupid nickname seemed familiar... and what’s with that search history?

It’s horrible that such a nice sort of day was spent preparing for the next interim level of Hell that Trein deemed fit to sentence everyone to during a lovely week that truly didn’t deserve such misery. After all, there was really only one way to make any possible preparations for the upcoming onslaught...

Studying. Oh, the… horror.

It was the three of you in preparation for Magical Analysis. Sure, Sebek and Ace seemed to have a knack for it, but it was a different matter altogether to apply it in practical form with a group.

Squabbling amongst yourselves, Ace, out of air from arguing, falls back onto you with a grumble. “Sheesh, it’d be so much easier if you just did it this way y’know.”

“And stoop to rewriting the work of an upperclassman’s past project? Of course, humans wouldn’t have any understanding of what dignity might mean.” His prattling continues as he sweeps his pencil over a scrap piece of paper in frustration. “Nevertheless, integrity.” Wow, he was really taking it out on that miserable little pencil—the eraser gone to the metal line.

Ace rolls his eyes and looks at you. Knowing him better than anyone, you can tell he wants to ditch or at least shovel more work unto Sebek in unwarranted revenge. Without even bothering to hide it, he mouths to you, “C’mon, if he wants to be so righteous, he can do this damn project himself.” You kick him under the table, but he easily defends himself with the flat of his shoe. “Loser.” He taunts, low enough for you to barely catch it.

Oh? So, it’s like that today.

By the time Sebek actually notices is when you finally go silent. He turns his head up in confusion to see your face fluster and Ace looking at you with smug victory that Sebek mistakes for rivalry. "Hmph! Children! Are you so dependent on one another that you can't separate?" Sebek grunts, peering under the table to where Ace's hand rests squarely on your calf, dipping under the fabric to firmly stop your attacks against his stomach as your legs—practically in his lap—kick at him to let you go.

Your voices reach him in almost perfect sync,

"Something like that."

"I’m twice the man he could ever be...!"

Sebek only scoffs and tears another sheet of blank paper out. “That simply proves my point. Two idiots make a pair.”

Ace snorts, pressing deeper into your leg to tip you slightly onto the ground. On instinct, you reach out, grabbing onto his neck in what would seem like a romantic interaction if it didn’t jerk his head and cause him to nose dive down straight onto the table. “Fuck!”

“Sorry! Shit, you okay?” You fuss over him, patting his face and forehead despite his wincing.

“If you really felt bad, you wouldn’t be smirking.”

“Oops, was I?”

He sulks and leans closer to you, reveling in the pampered treatment for a minute more... until he pulls out your chair and unceremoniously nearly drops you to the floor before childishly catching you last minute. “Ace!”

Sebek, exasperated, watches this all with a sigh, he wasn’t ever going to get anything done with you two, huh?

....But to his surprise, you guys do make timely work somehow and manage to finish everything with time to spare. Sebek doesn’t even give a second thought to your shenanigans nor how close the two of you were, opting to think: Seven, they’re idiots, completely unaware of Ace sneaking a kiss to your forehead in cheeky revenge.

Deuce pauses, sniffing the air. "What smells like cherries?" Unconsciously, he brings his shirt up to his nose, double-checking himself as he sniffs the collar of his shirt. “Do you smell it too?”

"We're in the middle of the Gym, there’s a lot more smells than that,” you reply absent-mindedly. A ball idly rolls by your foot, remnants of the game only a couple minutes prior before the two of you were forcefully assigned cleanup duty. ”Maybe you smell something from the cafeteria?"

"It's not that." His hands squeeze around a basketball, confidence assured in his words as he spins it around in his hands. "The cafeteria doesn't serve cherries on Wednesday. That’s a Friday thing."

"Huh, really? Is that why Ace always drags us to eat there then?"

"Yeah, you never noticed?" He turns back, genuinely curious as he watches your reaction. "That's why he always gets so excited."

"I mean, we always eat cherry stuff every other Unbirthday though? Which is like, literally, almost every other day of the week. Don't know why he'd get so amped at the cafe."

"Maybe it tastes better...?"

"Better than Trey's?"

"Hmm..."

As the two of you ponder, Deuce's eyes settle on your jacket. “Huh? Where’d you get a Heartslabyul varsity from?”

“Stole it,” you say simply, much to the baffled—near horrified—expression that dawns on Deuce’s face. “C’mon, you think I stole it from Riddle or something?” He looks so stressed that you’d even suggest something so terrifying that he almost stops breathing. “Deuce! No! Think.”

“...Diamond-senpai...? He’s nice enough?”

“I mean, I do have some clips he’s given me. But no.”

“Clover-senpai? Maybe?”

“Wouldn’t it be bigger?” He squeezes his eyes shut, using all of the power in his singular brain cell to come up with answers—but to no avail, even as you walk away to grab a broom. It takes him until another class change that, when you finally leave the locker room and you’re bending down to retie your shoes, Deuce rushes to you to boldly and confidently announce, “ACE!”

“Took you long enough,” you sigh, rolling up your sleeves as the sun beats down hard. “Speaking of, lemme text him that we’re done.” You pull out your phone to go into your recents, a long log of clown emojis filling it. Eh...? It seemed like you called a... clown a lot? Did you get something with the circus? Before he can ask, a clown emoji pops up on the screen. “Speak of the devil.”

“Wait. Am I a clown on your phone?”

“Maybe.”

“Hey!” He looks to you, pleading for confirmation. “I am? Really?”

“I would never...! Probably.” You maneuver the phone to your ear where inaudible sounds from the phone continue, vaguely the cadence of ranting. “Oh, hold up, he’s asking me to meet him. I’ll see you later, Deuce.”

"The clown...?" He watches you go in confusion, mind spinning as he thinks about clowns and, weirdly enough, a recent complaint Ace had about missing clothes. He remembers a wry, affectionate smile on his face as he shut his closet doors and sighed. It wasn’t like him to lose things and he seemed to know who took them. So... really, that guy relented enough to let you borrow something from him? He grimaced at the memory of Ace letting him walk around with his bright pink leopard print jacket, jabbing him without mercy.

Well, whatever. You guys were all best friends after all. It wasn’t a big deal anyway. Maybe you’d ask to borrow Deuce’s leopard print soon.

It is of the utmost importance that the highest council come together... for a sleepover to watch the latest horror movie that had appeared in home theaters. But, more than that, there was an immediate emergency of the highest level that needed to be addressed: drama. The tea needed to be prepped, served and spilled.

Or so Epel spits out (albeit in a much rougher manner), lifting his shoulders high in the air like he was ready to start his villain marketing monologue. "Is it just me or has the Prefect been weird lately? Not weird weird or nothin’, just that... ugh!" He shifts his eyes around, getting quieter with each frustrated syllable. Despite the fact that you were gone for a quick snack run, it still felt wrong to gossip in your house... place… dilapidated building. But he desperately needed to know he wasn’t going crazy.

"Really? They seem the same as ever to me.” Deuce chimes in, balancing a bowl of popcorn on his leg as he mindlessly picks off burnt pieces lining the top.

"They were searching some weird stuff—" Unconvinced, Epel spins toward Jack, gesturing to him and waiting like he knew the answer. "Ya think they're... fancying someone?"

“It’s their private business.” Jack settles firmly, replying with what he deemed as a solid, mature, and impartial response. “I’m sure that the Prefect isn’t interested anyway. Night Raven College is far too chaotic for romance.”

“Well, if that’s the case, then why’d the Prefect search up somethin' like date spots? Huh? What’d ya got to say about that?”

“If you’re on Sage Island, date spots are practically the equivalent to tourist spots. Maybe they’re looking for nice places. Don’t overthink it, Epel.”

Epel, more worked up than ever, smashes his hand into a bowl of gummies, stuffs them all in his mouth, and viciously proclaims in one go: “Then why’re they texting so much! Huh? Huh?!”

“...That’s just texting?”

“I think they made a clown friend,” Deuce unhelpfully adds. “I saw them calling a clown emoji a lot.”

“It was a clown emoji...” A lightbulb goes off in Epel’s head as he slams the table in front of him, shaking off bits of popcorn onto the floor that causes Sebek to promptly scowl. “Don’t do that to the popcorn!”

“Oh, shut yer trap. Big talk from someone who’s not helpin’ anyway.” Epel huffs, but leans down and scoops the pieces off of the floor, popping them into his mouth without a second thought. The jab works well enough though as Sebek straightens up, a twitch on his forehead.

“On the contrary,” he begins, voice loud and booming at a decibel that makes everyone wince, “they’re too focused on playing to be dating. When I worked with them and Ace, they were lolly-gagging around without a care! If they’re going to bother dating someone, it’d be Ace and we’d all know already.”

Everyone but Jack nods in agreement. Imagining the Prefect and Ace, of all people, dating? Nah. They’d seen you fill his shoes with spaghetti sauce once because he used up all your salt and left the container. It just... didn’t seem like you had that kind of relationship. "True, I really only see 'em with Ace all the time, maybe he’d know something?"

On the other side of the couch, Jack frowns, opens his mouth, and then promptly decides to close it as he quietly surveys the scene with a pensive, furrowed brow.

There’s a clue now, a distinct, visible connection: Clowns. Of course, it had to either be a potential relationship or your career plans. “But about that clown emoji... I think I remember the number.” It’s gotta be the former, Epel decides. If it was the latter, wouldn’t you have tried honking your nose or something? "I’m gonna call it."

Jack puts his face into his hands, having a moral crisis as he mumbles, “...wouldn’t they think that you’re a spam number?”

“Doesn’t hurt to try,” Epel pops another kernel into his mouth as he chews it in thought. “Think it had a triple seven in it somewhere...” He slowly mashes a key string of numbers together, erases, retypes, cusses.

Peering over Epel’s shoulder, unable to hide his curiosity, Deuce points out, "Isn’t the first bit the Kingdom of Hearts area code? Are you sure you remember the right code?"

“How would the Prefect know someone from the Kingdom of Roses outside of NRC?” Sebek muses aloud, unable to help himself either.

"Shouldn't we respect the Prefect's privacy?" Jack attempts once more, seeming as if he was shrinking with every busy tone Epel got stopped at. Yet, he continues to be ignored as Epel only calls the number again... and again... and again. "Hey... it's not our business."

"I got it damn it!" Stronger than any military man, Epel, the lone soldier, continues to push forward in his self-made journey. "Just give me a bit!" He keeps typing away, accidentally calling up a pizza place that makes everyone collectively groan. "C’mon, I’ve just about got it."

"Even if the Prefect were hypothetically in a relationship. Okay. Courting takes much time and requires a substantial amount of effort and persistence. I have not seen hair nor signs of lovestruck gooey eyes. Trust me, my parents are disgustingly in love. I would know." The scowl on Sebek’s face deepens, "we would've caught the Prefect by now!"

Deuce startles up, wide-eyed and mouth gaping as he blankly stares at everyone in pure shock, “WAIT... what? The Prefect is dating someone?"

"It took you this long?"

"WHO?!" Sevens help him, Jack was going to come home with premature wrinkles at the age of 16.

After about ten minutes of furious tapping, Epel’s thumb slips over the worn keypad and lands on one. His eyes, hazed over in delirium, border madness as he maniacally shakes his phone in victory. "Got it! This is it! Didja see that one?!"

"You sure? Pretty sure your thumb just..."

"I swear if you try sayin’ somethin’ silly, I’m gonna take my—"

"Then... why's Ace coming up on the screen?"

"Huh?" He erases, squeezes his eyes really hard, and types in the number that he sees in his head again.

It's Ace.

“Nah, that doesn't make sense.” Epel sounds nearly hysterical at this point. He calls again and goes straight to a cheery-toned voicemail that mocks everything Epel had ever known.

Unaware of the literal red swirling in Epel’s eyes, Deuce, having calmed down, happily nods with complete confidence, "Oh, it's probably auto-corrected to his number.”

“Phones do that?”

“...Maybe?”

Epel furiously spams the number anyway, not caring even if it was Ace. His frustrations were immeasurable, reaching an all-time new high. The levels were exceedingly dangerous, beyond over blotting with only one possible outlet it could vent to: Ace’s phone (and his dumb voicemail). In an effort to somehow abate Epel’s rage, Deuce gently puts his phone down and makes his own attempts at calling the number. "Maybe your phone is wrong, let me try from mine." Sebek, who looks very lost, does so too.

Through very pointed, timed coughs, Jack taps the table to get everyone's attention. “...ack. The Prefect should—uheum—return any minute now.” However, being the group of idiots that they are, it only brings about a different change, somehow switching to the topic of who it could possibly be.

"Grim?" The little guy wasn’t around, somehow off meandering for the day or sleeping the evening away somewhere else in the dorm. "Maybe the Prefect's upped their pet pampering. Something like he’s being a grouch and they're having to give him more attention than usual."

“I wouldn’t be surprised if the Prefect succumbed to giving Grim a phone.” Would paw pads work on a phone screen though?

The answers quickly devolve, becoming more ludicrous as Epel casually brushes away Grim's possibility. "Think about it seriously won’t ya? If the Prefect is in love... No, Jack’s right—that wouldn’t make a lick of sense with...” He waves his hand vaguely around at the comfortable but still dilapidated state of Ramshackle. “What if the Prefect’s possessed? Having to step through life fulfilling the sad, unrequited love of a ghost..." It wasn’t as if the events of the whole ghost bride shenanigans were all that far away anymore—quite literally living in the walls of NRC. It was just yesterday that Idia, out of all people, was, for once, the most eligible bachelor of all the lands.

“Wasn’t that whole deal done and over with already?”

“Hm. Probably.” Epel concedes, still vaguely worried.

Sebek leaned forward on his knees, a perfect replica of The Thinker as he genuinely considered the possibilities. "I think... If we haven’t caught them, then it has to be someone who doesn’t go to the NRC. Perhaps it’s someone from RSA?”

“Like Neige?”

“Or, do you think it could—”

"Or maybe... you guys need to learn to quit it!" Ace, missing from the scene, all but tackles Epel as he shoves his phone directly into his face.

"It's important!" Despite his face mushed into a phone screen, Epel doesn’t hesitate to immediately throw fists as he scrabbles to knee the intruder. "We think the Prefect is datin’ someone and keeping it a secret!"

A look of complete incredulity passes over Ace's face. He momentarily stops squishing his phone into Epel’s forehead, twists his eyebrows, and then smoothly says with a shit-eating grin, "Yeah, you notice it too?

"SEE, I wasn’t goin’ crazy!" All is forgiven. Friendship? Restored. Epel, more than happy to present the evidence, drops his fists to recount the facts index to pinky. “They’ve been on the phone non-stop with someone.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s super suspicious. I bet they’re giggling and kicking their feet too.” Ace, grabbing a handful of Deuce’s popcorn with his other hand, pops it into his mouth and blinks doeishly while twirling his hair. “What else? Catch them making lovestruck eyes? Swooning? Are they writing love letters?”

“No. That’s the weird part.” Epel gets to his pinky, souring as he recollects your latest actions. “Searching up date spots...”

“Hm, really?” Ace, no remorse, continues to be a complete asshole, liar, and gaslighter. "Look, I think the cards are all on the table. The Prefect is head over heels no doubt. Sound agreement. Completely agree." He grounds his feet and pushes forward, back to his phone-spam vengeance mission, but Epel doesn’t budge. His resolve is only strengthened by sheer willpower and probably far too much adrenaline as he attempts to sock Ace directly in the throat.

Much to his chagrin, Ace dances out of the way snickering “sucker!” But the bated breaths of stars and divine karma decide, hey this guy’s a little too full of himself, and shake loose the grip on his phone.

“Oh shit.” It happens in slow motion, the cherry-colored phone spinning round and round until it slots perfectly in the middle of the table for all to see two perfectly immaculate coincidences appear. Ace’s phone opens—a beacon of undeniable guilt—to a sweet, innocent lock screen of him pressing a kiss to your cheek... in his varsity. Then, if that wasn’t enough, your conveniently timed texts appear, rendering Ace to repeat solemnly to himself, “Oh shit.”

18:16 [ y/n ]: hey can you open the door my hands are full

18:22 [ y/n ]: like. right now

18:22 [ y/n ]: you LEAVE prefect? you leave me in the cold? oh! oh! jail for boyfriend! jail for the worst boyfriend for One Thousand Years!

18:22 [ y/n ]: wait i didn’t mean it

18:28 [ y/n ]: babygirl please

Deuce can scarcely believe his eyes, barely registering the texts or the lock screen as he utters out a single, profound word torn out from the deepest depths of his soul. "WHAT."

Sebek, not registering the picture, reacts point-blank. "Did the Prefect call you babygirl?"

The most ardently passionate Epel stares and processes the new evidence quietly, “wait...” It clicks. “IT WAS YOU.”

"It was obvious guys..." From the very start, Sebek had even accidentally guessed it.

"YOU'RE DATING THE PREFECT?!" Et Tu, Ace? Just like this? Deuce had never felt such betrayal, never like this before. Such... deception!

"WHAT," Sebek’s voice steadily gets louder to match everyone else, baffled by the turn of events. “WHAT DOES BABYGIRL MEAN?”

Not knowing what to do with his hands or rage, Epel begins to put Ace into a headlock.

Jack leaves the room in second-hand embarrassment.

Ace, tongue in cheek and barely able to hold in his laughter, allows himself to be manhandled—but not without chaos. "Um? You didn't know? Wasn't it obvious?" He gives Sebek a smug smile in particular, "Didn't you catch my hands literally under their clothes?"

Sebek gawks, turning bright red as he flails, "ISN'T THAT NORMAL FOR YOU GUYS?"

The pieces all come together. It was the footsies in your study session, the recognizable jacket during gym, an eavesdropped conversation, a much-too-revealing search history.

It’s you finally coming in with the snacks—carefree as ever—opening the door with an "I'm back!" to only be blasted by a chorus of "YOU'RE DATING ACE?"

You blink. The snacks drop. You’re out the door.

Jack reappears to pick up the snacks while Deuce knocks over the table and falls to the floor as Epel flies over his head to give chase—barraging you with questions of “Since when?!” and ”Why are you running?!”

"It's only been a week!" This little man is chasing you so fast oh my God how is he so fast. “Stop chasing me!”

Deuce finally breaks out of his stupor to go, "Now, wait just a minute...!" and slams his head up into Sebek’s stomach where he chokes on the popcorn. The two first-years groan, rolling around on the ground and couch as Ace makes eye contact with Jack, shrugs, and runs to catch up to the distant screaming (you) and threats that most certainly break the Geneva Convention (Epel).

Well, more like a light, easy jog as he arrives to Epel finding a spare branch and full-on frisbeeing it at your head, fully intent on taking you down without care of any possible casualties. It was war. If this was how you went, death via a guy whose parents really thought it was a good idea to name their son Apple™, then you mentally decided all of your meager earnings as a janitor and de facto therapist at this cursed college would go to Jamil. Sevens knows he deserves it.

“Epel!” So worked up on adrenaline, Epel’s head instantly whips around to face Ace... only to realize his mistake a second later as you kick his knees in and run, Ace close behind as he passes by and tussles his hair for good measure.

“This isn’t over yet!” Epel hollars, cussing you two out with every name under the sun. “Y'all ain’t seen nothing yet, I swear when I get to you—”

Ace’s lips curl with mocking delight as he throws his head back and laughs from the rush of your moonlit escapade. “Yada yada, he’ll calm down eventually... probably.” He was this excited to dupe his friends? "Pfft... haha! Sheesh, took 'em long enough!" Ridiculous.

What a stupid, endearing idiot (your idiot). "Took you long enough. Where were you?" Ace’s hand is warm as it finds yours.

His timing is off by only a second before he replies, a little bit hopeful, “What? Miss me already?”

(Yes.)

You think, for a long moment, before reaching up and pressing a kiss underneath his jaw. “No.”

In response, Ace's hand squeezes your shoulder as he pulls you closer with a wide, genuine smile. “Liar.” Keeping you close as the two of you escape into the night, hand in hand.

♥♥

end a/n: hello! happy holidays!! i am also so late to the collab: i am so sorry—but i hope that this being longer makes up for it lmao. a lot has happened this year (not necessarily bad things!) but definitely. exhausting ones haha—so it made this piece really difficult to get out. BUT I DID IT. MA YA SEE THAT? I DID IT—so with all my heart, i sincerely hope that you enjoy this piece and maybe laughed a little. because ! that makes it all the more worth it! so, again, thank you for reading about this little foolish lil guy

#twisted wonderland #ace trappola #twisted wonderland x reader #ace trappola x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twst #now to go lay down for a bazillion years #this is sincerely soooo much better to read on laptop #if you're reading on mobile i am. so sorry.

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wisteriagoesvroom · 3 months ago

Note

for the 5 sentence fic game - malex (Max/Alex), forgiveness? if it's not too out of ur depth :3

ok this was such a good prompt that i bust past 5 sentences and just kept going. so…here we go:

————

Forgiveness

a max/alex drabble, rated g

When Max meets Alex again, it’s a crisp autumn day — the kind where the leaves curl in on themselves, as if holding a secret. What secret, Max doesn’t know, but he has never really been in the habit of keeping many secrets.

The park is not where he expects to see Alex. But that’s the thing about parks. They’re a central nervous system for cities. City planners used to design with this in mind, before cars took over. Max remembers this fact from an encyclopaedia that he used to read, under blanket with a torchlight, when he still had the time to, during karting.

And now, Alex is in the park. Alex is older. Hair the same, if longer than it used to be in their F1 days. Face clean-shaven, but sharper in the cut of his jaw. Eyes, still creasing upwards when he sees a thing he likes.

As it turns out, Alex smiled a lot more when he left Red Bull. His smile practically a quantum force of its own when he finally won a GP.

And as it turns out, to his surprise, Max may be one of the things Alex also likes.

“Is that really you?” Alex exclaims, hands tucked in his pockets, wool scarf loose on his neck. Max feels somehow underdressed in his nondescript hoodie. Being a five time world champion, even over a decade later, meant people would stop you for photos.

“It’s me, mate.”

Alex makes a noise that seems like delight. They do the bro hug, and he animatedly explains that Lily is in Shanghai for a project involving augmented reality home golfing that is run through a mobile phone holoprojector. He rambles a little bit about weather — which for some reason the English still are obsessed with — and Alex asks whether Monaco has changed much (Max tells him it hasn’t).

“Are you heading up to Milton Keynes?” Alex says.

There is no loadedness behind the question. Max has only been back to Milton Keynes for Redline work since he retired.

One thing about Alex is that he was always carefully guarded when he needed to be. But Max never found him truly capable of ill intent.

“No,” Mad says. “I’m actually here because Pen has a thing about horses now. I have a break from touring stables and such.”

“Horses! Ah! There’s this great place down by Richmond, the owner’s an old classmate of mine. Let me pass it to you.”

Classic Alex. Always trying to help out, be nice, create a connection. So Max grabs his phone from his pocket, and lets Alex fuss around with it.

So the task is done, and there isn’t much to do now but move on. That is what Max has done well. Move on, in a way that he knows how, eking out a place for himself in Sim driver development and helping others learn the ropes. Much like Alex clearly has too, remaining as advisor to his last team.

Max finds himself reflecting on the younger men they were so long ago. Max was a lot more impulsive then. Quick to anger, a hunger inside him with so much to prove. But every person who did what they did always had the hunger. It just manifested in a lot of different ways.

And the interaction is nearing its end. But Max still can’t quite find a way to make his legs move. Around them, someone occasionally jogs past, and there are some ducks quacking happily at a nearby pond. It is peaceful.

Alex’s phone buzzes. He glances down at it, brows creasing in concern.

“Sorry, there’s some emergency at home involving my five year old and…” Alex squints at his phone. “A muffin tray of glitter. George is always far too lenient with his godson.”

Max smiles. “I heard about that. George, I mean. Not the glitter. I am not psychic.”

“That would explain your super-powered abilities, wouldn’t it?”

“Ha!” Max says, and he means it. “Anyway, I remember exactly how it is. That age.”

Alex smiles back knowingly.

The leaves rustle in the trees. The ducks are still quacking. The sun peeks out from behind a cloud, warming them both.

It is comfortable, in the way Alex always makes people feel, since the Williams years.

Max stops his leg from twitching.

“Listen, Alex. I never got a chance to say it before.”

“Say what?”

“That I…”

And Max finds himself pondering it. What does he mean? That he’s sorry? Sorry that a formula one team only truly ever has enough room for one person? That he should have asked how Alex was, like how he makes a point to do so now, with all his Redline youngsters? That he wishes he had called or texted him in the intervening years to see how he was, that he wishes they had stayed in touch? That he misses his old cars more than anything in the world, even if he’s happy with what he’s done and the way the puzzle pieces of his life have landed, and he always wonders if other drivers did too?

Max swallows a lump in his throat that he didn’t know was there. In the end, he says exactly what is on his mind.

“I’m really glad that you seem well.”

If that’s not the answer Alex was expecting, he doesn’t show it. He always seems borderline spiritual these days. As if he’s discovered a secret and invites you to understand it. A little bit like a monk, but one who definitely drives over the speed limit. (Max saw that video: a special karting one Alex did for family content, and he still carves a magnificent line.)

The monk in question smiles. It’s warm, like the sun. How lucky for those who grow close enough to Alex, to feel it.

And in that sage, still boyish way of his— surrounded by ducks, subjected to the inclement weather, in the artery of the place where worlds meet — Alex tells Max, back:

“I’m glad for us, too.”

————

from prompt thing here except i will actually try to stick to 5 sentences for the next one(s)

#malex #max verstappen x alex albon #wiz.writing #f1 rpf #first thing I’ve written in over a month!!! thank you anon.#drabble #wiz.askbox #wiz.promptfill #also #first time I’ve written these two and it’s fun <3 #future fics as a vehicle for reminiscence have been on my mind lately #so thanks for gifting me an opportunity to let it out a little

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denimbex1986 · 8 months ago

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'This weekend, I finally got round to watching All Of Us Strangers. It is a brilliant film that I thoroughly recommend and open to interpretations. But the bit that resonated with me was the fact that Andrew Scott’s character, a writer, was trying through his work to reconnect with his past.

I’ve been thinking ‘if only I could go back and live that time all over again’. I guess we all think this from time to time, but why now? Well, one answer I have from reading Sharon Blackie’s excellent Hagitude — Reimagining the Second Half of Life, is that it is perhaps a necessary part of this crossroads of life we find ourselves standing in front of at midlife. It is a fact that we can’t go back, that we can only go forward, and perhaps to do that we have to let go of a lot of things from the past, or at least, leave them where they belong — in the past.

In All Of Us Strangers, Andrew Scott’s character revisits his childhood home and finds his parents, who had been killed in a car crash when he was 12, still living, still listening to the same records, still inhabiting the same decor, the same clothes. It is 1987 and the only thing that has changed is him, he has grown and they have stayed… stuck.

In recent weeks I have had the pleasure of joining Dr Lily Dunn’s memoir writing course. I am a firm believer that learning from other writers, joining their courses, advancing our own writing is an enormously important part of practicing our own craft, and I’ve really enjoyed the exercises that she has set for everyone. But I was surprised, what I initially joined thinking I would use this course as a structure to explore has not been what I have been drawn to in my writing. In fact, like the protagonist in All Of Us Strangers, I have been drawn back, to the ghosts of the past. I have wanted to bring my childhood back to life through my writing, and this has surprised me, it has also made me feel quite emotional.

What if we could go back? What would it be like to step into an old photograph, to relive that moment all over again but this time through the adult eye? That was the task that we were asked to do by Lily.

I chose a photograph, just because it was the nicest one I happened to lay my hands on first, and I was so surprised by what came out, particularly the handbrake turn it took towards the end. So I’m sharing it here with you with the hope you might try the same exercise. Find a childhood photograph and step back into it with your adult eye...

It is a sunny day in 1983, although in all honesty, all of those days felt sunny. We are standing in the back garden of our red-brick council house, posing for a photograph, me and my stepfather. I am wearing a floppy straw hat and towelling dress. I remember that dress well – a sage green colour that tied at the front, it had something appliquéd on the front, I’m not sure what now but then those are not the details I want to focus on here.

My stepfather is looking smart, a shirt tucked into his slacks, all beige and cream, a palette for summer. He is wearing a trilby hat and a gold necklace that catches the light, and his face, hardly visible under the brim of his hat as he looks down at me, is shaped somehow to make me laugh. I gaze up at him in delight.

My small hand is in his, but my other hand is wrapped around his wrist, over his watch strap, as if I don’t want that moment to end, as if he is all mine.

Which he was then, in 1983.

My mum and I had moved into that council house the year before. It was brand new: putty-coloured tiled floors downstairs; bare floorboards upstairs; and in that back garden (where we would pose for that photograph a year later) a lawn we hoped would grow from seed.

This blank canvas was all ours. Mum and I went to Sheltons in the city, a smart department store buried in the backstreets, and chose mugs and eggcups with pictures of animals on them – I still have one now. At night we slept together in her double bed, even though she had gone to pains to bring something of my old bedroom with her, the brass-effect headboard my dad had shaped by hand, I can’t remember anything else now but I’m sure each item had been chosen with such importance to her at the time.

It had been just us for a while. Mum made friends with Kate, the single mother who lived next door and I played with her children while Kate stirred a pot on the stove that she would feed to mum when she came home after an evening spent canvassing, going door-to-door with her team in not so sunny days, in fact freezing ones, selling double glazing. That’s how she afforded me brand new Clark’s school shoes, or even that sage green dress.

Mum said the night she had met David, he had been wearing that trilby. He had entered the pub where she was sitting at the bar with Kate, and from the door he had thrown it and it had landed on the hatstand. A cool move. I don’t know how long later she had brought him home to me but I was equally smitten.

I have a memory of skipping by his side as we left the fancy new shopping centre, Queensgate, which was all smoked glass and shiny floors, more like somewhere you might imagine in America, not Peterborough, or at least not then, in 1983. In that same memory, Dai is carrying a present so big for me – a plastic aeroplane and the picture on box promised I could serve food to my passengers – and Mum was parked outside waiting for us in our dark blue Ford Cortina. She would have scolded him when we clambered inside for another big present.

‘She’s not used to being spoilt.’

But I was then, in 1983.

The trips to Queensgate for a giant present each weekend became a Sunday morning walk to Readwells, a newsagent in the new modern centre of our village, where I could have the run of the place, picking up any soft toy or magazine I wanted.

The way to a six-year-old heart is through your wallet.

But it wasn’t only that, it was the cardboard castle he helped me build for a school project, it was wrestling in front of the television on a Saturday afternoon while Big Daddy did the same on the screen. It was falling asleep curled up in the armchair to the hum of the TV in the corner of the lounge, and waking only enough to see my fleecy peach sleepsuit-covered legs reaching up to the ceiling as he carried me to bed once I’d drifted off.

He was all mine, and I was all his.

Is that what we were thinking as we posed for that photograph?

I didn’t know then of the other child he had swapped to be with me. A four-year-old boy who must have been ten by then. Was he thinking of him when he smiled down at me? Was he making reparations to him when he lavished attention on me? Did it ease the pain of his guilt? Perhaps he felt none at all, this family man who had repaired us and made me and Mum whole again.

By the time I saw that child he would be a man. I would be sat, not in sage green, but in all black on the front row of a pew in a crematorium. I would turn from my stepfather’s coffin to look at the crowd behind me, and among them I would pick out a grown man — crying like a four-year-old boy.'

#All of Us Strangers #Sharon Blackie #Hagitude - Reimagining the Second Half of Life #Andrew Scott #Dr Lily Dunn

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wylanlupin · 11 months ago

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What really makes Christmas Christmas? The advent calendar? The lights? The Christmas market? The snow?

If you ask Sirius this question, you will only get one answer: music. Nothing is more Christmassy than Christmas carols. Everyone loves Christmas songs and everyone knows them. So all you need to really call it Christmas are Christmas songs, your family and friends and funny jumpers.

That's why it's more than natural to go to a karaoke bar with his family a few days before Christmas Eve. After a long (painful) goodbye to Padfoot, Sirius' dog, they are finally on their way to their karaoke bar.

It's snowing lightly, which is why Remus and Sirius have decided to walk. Bundled up in thick jackets, scarves, hats and gloves, they walk hand in hand through the decorated streets.

He swings their closed hands back and forth excitedly. "I'm glad that everyone has finally found the time," Sirius says his thoughts out loud and Remus turns his head towards his boyfriend with a broad smile on his face. "Me too.”

It's not easy for a group of 9 friends to manage to all have time. James and Lily had their daughter Charlie 4 months ago, everyone has jobs - sometimes at the silliest times.

But today everyone has made it, even Monty and Effie have time. As Lily and James are spending the holidays with their two children at the Potter's, they can look after their grandchildren today.

Remus is on school holidays due to his job as a teacher (History & English), James is also at home. He worked with Emmeline as a police officer until earlier this year, but since Charlie arrived he's been a stay-at-home dad. Lily also has time off due to her job as a kindergarten teacher.

The fact that Mary and Peter have actually managed to get the evening off is a miracle for everyone (but everyone is delighted). Mary is an opera singer (which is of course very unfair in karaoke) and Peter is a theatre/musical director.

Marlene and Dorcas are self-employed, just like Sirius, so the planning was a bit easier there. Dorcas is a fitness trainer in her own studio and Marls gives dance lessons (hip hop) in the same studio. Sirius attends one of her classes every Thursday, which they often combine with going out for a meal, a drink or simply spending time together.

Finding time for his friends is particularly easy for Sirius. Thanks to his uncle's money, he doesn't have to work, but he really enjoys it. His parents forced him to play the piano and violin from an early age. He hated it.

But he can play these instruments, very well in fact. He's actually really talented when it comes to music. Which is why he thought (it was originally Remus' idea) that he could give lessons.

The 'business' is going really well. Sirius is very good with people and now teaches all sorts of people to play the piano, violin or guitar. Some of his 'students' sometimes give performances, which makes him particularly proud.

As his boyfriend works at a school and has good contacts, many students from Remus' school come to him. Remus has put up some flyers, mentioned it before his lessons and the music and drama teachers also know about it and are happy to recommend Sirius to the students.

He sees some of his friends more often than others. He sees Marlene and Dorcas every week, for example, and he also visits James a lot - but the last time he saw Emmeline was three weeks ago.

That's almost a month.

Of course, he is all the more pleased when he sees his best friend's long black hair from afar. Without paying any further attention to Remus, he runs off. "EMMELINE!" Startled, she turns round and immediately throws her arms in the air and runs towards Sirius.

Like a whirlwind, he falls into her arms - or she into his. Emmeline lets out a small scream as Sirius lifts her up and spins round on his own centre. He lets her down and they start talking out loud at the same time about how much they've missed each other. How bad the last few weeks have been when they haven't seen each other every day.

Peter and Mary are already standing in front of the entrance. Peter, Mary and Emmeline are together and are very happy. They have never officially come out, but everyone can see that the three of them love each other and are happy with their situation.

After Sirius came out in his school days, Peter drunkenly told them that he was Ace. Years later, he got together with Mary, who was already living with Emmeline at the time. Sirius really doesn't care who is with whom, who is platonic with whom and who loves whom romantically, and least of all who is sleeping with whom.

Sirius only cares that his friends - his family - are happy. Emmeline is like a sister he never had. (He also invited Reggie to karaoke with his girlfriend Pandora - he didn't want to and Pandora couldn't change his mind). They see each other at Christmas, though, and that's enough for Sirius.

Remus quickly catches up and hugs Peter and then Mary. They make casual small talk while Emmeline and Sirius try to catch the snow out of the air with their tongues.

"Hey, guys!" James' loud voice rings out before he gives everyone a big hug, Peter, Remus and Sirius a little peck on the cheek and he even hugs Lily and gives her a deep kiss.

It's normal. James has missed them and no one (except Sirius) openly admits it, but everyone has been looking forward to their James hug.

As usual, they're just waiting for Marlene and Dorcas. However, as everyone is getting cold, they enter their favourite karaoke bar. And that's when the most exciting part for Sirius starts.

What is everyone wearing?

All his friends (some more than others) have reasonably good taste in fashion. It's fun to see what the others are wearing, especially at a time like Christmas.

You can clearly see which of them has children. James is wearing a red jumper with a Reindeer on it, under his wild black hair you can see Reindeer ears and antlers with two bells hanging from them. A bell is also attached to his jumper and the Reindeer's nose glows (flashes) red.

He is wearing simple blue trousers, Lily is also wearing simple black trousers. There are no bells attached to the antlers on her head and her Christmas jumper is green with a large Santa Claus on it. She is wearing her long red hair loose today. It lies smoothly down her back.

In contrast, Mary is wearing a tight-fitting pink dress with white (artificial) fur, black tights and white heeled shoes. The parents in the room are only wearing their normal trainers. They all look stunning.

Mary also has her black curls down today and has painted her face with white colour around her eyes. Peter is wearing a white shirt, with a red/white/green tie and a red suit. His blond hair is smooth and neat on his head.

Emmeline is wearing a dark blue, mentally shimmering oversized jumper with white fur around the edges. Her jet-black hair lies smoothly down her back and reaches down to her bum. She is also wearing light blue, very wide jeans that reach down to the floor. She is the smallest of the whole group of friends, which is why she often wears shoes with high heels (as she does today).

Remus is wearing his wine-red trousers and a light brown jumper. Actually, he looks the same as always - perfect. At that moment, Marlene and Dorcas enter the room. Everyone falls into their arms and they all talk loudly about how much they've missed each other.

Although they are both very tall (really tall, taller than Sirius but shorter than Remus), they are both wearing high heels, which puts Marlene at eye level with Remus.

Sirius is not surprised that the two of them look stunning. Probably even wearing the best outfits, better than his own. (Which, of course, he would never openly admit.)

Sirius himself is wearing black jeans with holes in the knees. He is also wearing shoes with a small heel so as not to be the smallest person in the room. Just for the feel of it. He has a tight-fitting black long-sleeved jumper with a turtleneck today. He's also wearing a black cardigan and a maroon scarf to add some colour. (Yes, the same colour as Remus' trousers - yes, that's on purpose).

Marles and Cas both wear tight-fitting black trousers. Dorcas is wearing a dark green, mentally shimmering top. It has a round neckline that comes together again at the neck. She has used the same colour around her eyes. Like a Christmas tree.

Marlene is probably supposed to be an (overgrown) elf. Or a candy cane. She is wearing a long-sleeved shirt with white and red stripes, which is also very tight-fitting.

It takes some time for everyone to find a seat, have a drink in front of them and for the conversation to settle down a little. Sirius sits naturally on Remus' lap, who has his arms wrapped around Sirius' waist. Remus is talking to Lily while James and Emmeline tell Sirius about a joint mission. Laughing, he leans his head back and Remus draws little circles on his thigh.

"Guys, we're here to sing," Dorcas suddenly calls out and everyone is immediately silent. Which is why she continues to speak and asks the important question, "Who's going to start?"

There is complete silence for a few seconds. "Me!" James announces proudly and runs to the front. He grabs one of the microphones and flicks through the book. The large screen next to him is already switched on. "Oh my God!" he exclaims excitedly, looking back and forth between Marlene and Sirius.

"What is it, Potter?" asks Marlene. "You'll like this song," he says, more to himself, and adjusts everything.

#marauders #marauders fanfiction #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #ao3 fanfics #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #remus lupin #sirius black #dorcas x marlene #ao3 writer #remus x sirius #james & sirius #james x lily

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taliesin-19 · 1 year ago

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Boy, it's been ages since I've done one of these... I'll start this by yelling at you for ever doubting or second-guessing yourself of not being capable of writing a good Luna. Fuck off, that was delightful. Now, since this is in fact an ask, if you had narrow it down 3 aspects that makes you write dialogue and particularly children's dialogue, what would they be? I know you obviously have a lot of experience, but that doesn't always translate well to paper... Love ya 😍 #nextchapterwhen

Hey random reader! This answer has been a long time coming, but I'm going through some old asks and figured I'd give this one a try.

So three things that I find Important in writing dialogue? Let's see...

1. Unique character voice. The goal should always be for the reader to be able to distinguish who is talking even without a dialogue tag. Just a few examples from my writing:

Harry usually talks more dryly, struggles to put things into words and can be unintentionally blunt because of it. He's got some 'ers' and 'erms'. He's not very verbose unless he's more emotional.

Abby talks a lot. She starts sentences and goes in a different directions. She's probably got the most dashes and ellipses in her dialogue. When she's nervous or excited, she talks more. When she's upset, she doesn't talk much at all.

Ron's dialogue is one of the most fun to write for me. He's usually poking fun at people, lightening the mood, being the voice of reason. A lot of his dialogue is sarcastic, filled with slang and swears. He's not a talker either. He'll have the one-liners that serve as comic relief most of the time. But when he's serious, he's gonna toss a few words at you that instantly shut you up and make you realize you're being an idiot.

Hermione is also fun to write. She's obviously going to have the biggest vocabulary, never swear, not have too many dashes and ellipses because she's usually very eloquent. Sometimes her anxiety will kick in though, and she may stutter and overcompensate by talking more.

As for the kids, writing children's dialogue is definitely tricky. They all need their own voices too. They can't be too cutesy or too mature. I find what helps is writing normal dialogue, but then changing grammar structure and word usage to reflect their age. They're probably all going to have a lot of run on sentences and dashes to reflect how their thoughts shift more quickly. Lily will have a few speaking errors (not overdone) like saying certain big words wrong (ex. 'vestigates instead of investigates) or having grammatical errors ("funner" instead of more fun), etc. Lily is also very repetitive sometimes to indicate when she's being whiny. Al doesn't talk much except when he's with an adult one on one, or he's fighting with his siblings. James takes over most conversations, even with his cousins and tends to be bossy and self-assured. You won't see him with as many rambling/ellipses-filled dialogues.

And now that I've rambled, the next two important factors:

2. Sentence structure variety. This applies to all writing, but dialogue should especially not be a whole page of:

"blah blah blah," he said.

"blah blah blah," she said.

You need to mix it up to get a nice rhythm of reading and to make the conversation feel organic.

A. "B," he said.

"B", she said. "B."

"B".

(if that makes any sense)

Adding movement in the dialogue tags is Important as well to remind readers that these are living breathing people that aren't just spouting words at each other.

This kind of leads into the last thing (for now, there's many other things I'm sure).

3. Creating a rhythm. Idk how to properly title it or describe this. But the time it takes to read the words on the page should be relatively equal to the rhythm in which you want the characters to speak. So if you want a pause, use words outside the dialogue to create the pause. For ex:

"The sky is blue," Harry said.

"You're right."

Vs.

"The sky is blue," Harry said.

Abby looked up, squinting at sun before looking back at Harry. "You're right."

In the second example, you're forced to create a pause in the dialogue which more naturally replicates the rhythm of speaking. I find it helps to read things out loud to hear the rhythm. But just like with point #2, you want a good variety in rhythm. Cause if it's too uniform it won't sound natural.

Okay I hope that answers your question. I could go on about this stuff cause I love dialogue so much. Prose can gtfo though

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emoticonheart · 2 years ago

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How would your original characters react if they saw each other?

Robin O’Connery, Arrach, and Runt, from Stolen Crown.

Princess Addison Bloomington and Ruby Daniels, from What You Find Along the Way.

Sierra Watson, Conner Eve, and Lizzy Harris, from The Universe Chose You, so I Will Too.

Rick “IckyRicky”, Ashley “Flexsteel” Fox, and Lily Alonto, from Flexsteel and IckyRicky.

Meira Yelren and Thalia Orog, from Impressions.

Carmen Lopez and Zoe Papadopoulos, from At Your Worst.

I would like to know what possible interactions these characters might have with one another if they were to hypothetically meet. For example, how would the gassy characters respond to each other’s belches and/or flatulence? What would the non-gassy characters think about that? How would the human and fantasy characters act toward each other, or the modern and medieval characters? What miscellaneous aspects of their lives would the characters talk about, maybe regarding other people whom they know, such as family, friends, rivals, enemies, etc.?

Just any potential scenarios that you might be able to think about would be nice to read.

wow, this is a big ask. i will try my best to answer this, but if i miss something or you'd like me to expand on something, pls let me know!!

robin o'connery: in terms of meeting any of my gassy gals, she would just be ecstatic to meet anyone who could burp even a little bit like her. however, she'd be the most excited to meet thalia. not only do thalia's belches rival her own, but she'd be delighted to have found someone who "has it worse" than her (even though robin fully believes there's nothing wrong with herself). like, thalia can't even go two seconds without burping!! that's hilarious!! in terms of meeting my non-gassy characters, as long as they aren't mean or disgusted by her burps, she'll be friends with any of them (aka she'd hate lizzy, and she'd be irritated with conner for a bit).

arrach: like robin, arrach would be excited to meet thalia the most, but for a completely different reason. trolls and ogres are similar creatures that face similar discrimination in their respective societies, so he would find solace and comfort in someone who is comfortable being exactly who she is despite it all, and it would give him hope that he can do the same. also, if he were to ever meet lizzy, he would over accommodate her needs by holding in all his gas in front of her no matter how much it hurts, much to the irritation of robin.

runt: he's happy to meet everyone. no one can escape his friendship. no one.

addison bloomington: she'd be shocked that there are others that enjoy belching as much as she does, and she'd be even more shocked that there are others that can actually burp louder than her. she didn't realize that was possible!! but once she gets over her initial shock, she becomes quick friends with all of my gassy gals. as for the non-gassies, she loves women, so she'd get along with everyone but conner. it takes a little longer with lizzy and carmen, though, but she gets there eventually.

ruby daniels: you actually haven't met ruby yet, so i'll just have to save this answer for later...

sierra watson: she immediately challenges everyone to a burping contest, hoping to show off her skills, but is immediately humbled by just about everyone else. but that's okay, even though she's not used to losing, she can give respect when it's due. besides, she finds solace in knowing she can at least beat lily. she also gets along surprisingly well with runt. it may or may not have to do with the fact that runt helped her stink out her stepdad's bedroom once...

conner eve: he's so incredibly awkward and uncomfortable around everyone. the only person he can tolerate burping from is sierra, and that's mostly because the universe is forcing him to tolerate it. so being surrounded by all these other gassy people/gassy allies is a bit too much for him. because of this, he gets along really well with carmen. he gets along with meira a bit too, but not as much as carmen.

lizzy harris: she hates just about everyone. she's all about manners and being respectable in public, so any and all of my gassy gals just rub her the wrong way. she thought she could be friends with the other girls, but lily and meira weren't down to gossip about the gassy gals with her (obviously, because those are their partners) and carmen was just too awkward (and not in a cute way like conner) so they were a no go, too.

rick "ickyricky": pre flexsteel incident, his misogyny would make him hate just about everyone. post flexsteel incident, he'd probably be fine with everyone, but still be much too intimidated to actually pursue friendship with any of them. especially robin and thalia. gosh they scare the hell out of him.

ashley "flexsteel" fox: sheer and utter relief. there's other girls out there that burp like her. even better, they burp better than her. all she has to do now is introduce them to her parents, and maybe they'll finally give ashley a break. but seriously, she's happy to be surrounded by people that make her feel comfortable in her own skin.

lily alonto: she's super excited!! she's always been jealous of how well her partner can burp, but being surrounded by so many people with the talent she's been longing for giver her hope that she can one day join their ranks!! that's why she gets along especially well with sierra; she is more than eager to give lily some burping lessons.

meira yelren: she's kinda... neutral about this whole thing. like she'll roll her eyes fondly as she watches thalia talking with all the other gassy gals, but she won't actively try to talk to anyone. after all, the only gassy person she needs in her life is thalia. that's already more than enough for her. she does find conner amusing, though.

thalia orog: she's happy to talk to the other gassy gals, especially robin and arrach, but she's overall pretty casual about the whole thing. after all, meeting other people that can burp well doesn't do much to help her own situation, but it is nice to know she's not alone.

carmen lopez: she's so uncomfortable. she doesn't understand how these people can be so comfortable letting loose like this, and how they're doing it so powerfully. the more they burp, the more she wants to rip her own ears off. that's why she sticks close to zoe and conner; a familiar friend and someone who is just as uncomfortable as she is.

zoe papadopoulos: her number one priority is making sure that carmen is comfortable, but internally, she's super excited to be surrounded by all these gassy people. she only showed a sliver of this side of herself that night with carmen, but she was actually super gassy, so it was cool to see so many people just like her. even more than that, it was cool to see so many people that were unashamed to be like her. she just hoped that one day she could show this side of herself fully and completely to carmen. until then, though, she's fine just talking and listening to the people she desperately wants to be like.

again, i talked a lot here, but i'm certain i didn't get to things you wanted me to talk about. so please don't hesitate to send me any follow up questions!!

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jungkxook · 4 years ago

Text

—stay. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ genre: popstar!jungkook x groupie!reader + smut / sprinkle of angst and fluff

⟶ words: 8,083

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: jungkook wasn’t always so madly in love with you but the fact that you’re sleeping with two of his band mates too makes things a tad bit complicated.

⟶ warnings: multiple smut scenes, slight dom themes, oral sex, finger sucking oops, boob fondling, hair pulling ft. jungkook’s undercut, doggy style, missionary, thigh riding, spitting, jealous kook!!, unprotected sex, kind of slight possessive themes? but also just general sweetness tbh

⟶ disclaimer: my time jungkook still has me in my feels! also, this is a repost of an old fic on an old blog.

“Stay with me?”

Jungkook asks this hopefully, of course, but he already knows the answer. It’s just that, lying there with you on the hotel room bed, there’s no other place he’d rather be ━ and there’s no one else he’d rather experience the moment with than you. Legs tangled together on top of the duvet with your fingers tracing circles onto his bare chest, Jungkook swears he’s in love with you ━ only, you’re not his to have.

“I have to go,” You pout, though your fingers continue drawing constellations on his skin, treading down his arm and over the tattoos that adorn him. You’re focusing now on the lily on his forearm, around and around, sending his head spiralling. “Promised my friends we could hang out today. Besides, don’t you have Mina or Nina━” You wave your hand in the air to dismiss the thought━ “coming over soon?”

“Who?” It takes him a moment to even remember who you’re talking about. Truthfully, he hasn’t seen that girl in well over six months but he’d never tell you that. In fact, he hasn’t been seeing anyone else other than you but he would definitely never tell you that. “Oh, yeah. Well, I think she’s coming over later tonight.”

“Well━” You trail off, and Jungkook knows it’s because you’re stalling. You want to stay, and he knows it well enough, but every question you ask him is just meant to further reassure you that it’s okay if you stay. That he wants you to. “Aren’t you busy with work today before the second show?”

Jungkook shrugs. “We still have lots of time before the day starts.”

You shake your head at him but he knows he ultimately wins out when you start to smile to yourself. You prop yourself up beside him and he has to admire momentarily how you’ve never been timid in front of him when you’re naked. His hand reaches out to brush his fingers against your cheek and you smile down at him. But then something seems to dawn on him that he can’t believe he foolishly hadn’t thought of first.

“Unless… Unless you need to see one of them soon.”

“Who?”

“Taehyung or Namjoon.” It takes all he can muster to say their names without a trace of bitterness. He lifts himself up on his elbow. “Are you still seeing them?”

You shrug innocently. Sitting up a little straighter, you brush his hand away and fidget with your hair. “Would it matter if I was?”

Yes, he wants to scream but he refrains. “No. I just━” he stops. “Just curious. Is that what you meant by work then? You have to go see Tae or something right after me? ”

“No, you prick.” He’s relieved you giggle at him, fingers poking at his chest despite the fact that he was mentally cursing himself for being a dick the minute the words left his mouth. “Believe it or not, I do have a life outside of sex. Friends, too.”

“I know, I know,” he says sheepishly. “Sorry, I━ I know. You said you wanted to go shopping downtown before the show tonight, right? One of your friends ━ Dahyun ━ goes to school in the next city over and she’s taking the day off to see you. I do listen when you talk, y’know?”

He doesn’t miss the warm smile that spreads across your face. You finally return to him, kissing him slow and steadily. In the meantime, he flips you over onto your back and then parts from you much to your dismay. He’s nestled himself between your legs in an instant, kissing up your thigh and sending shivers down your spin. Your hand flies down to twine your fingers in his hair, now much longer than usual.

“I guess I could stay a little longer, if you’d want me to,” You say.

“I do.”

He wastes no time in swiping his tongue at your folds, his mouth wrapping perfectly around you. You’re already mewling with delight. That’s all it ever is with the two of you. Sex and more sex. And while Jungkook isn’t complaining, he sure does wish he could just have more of you. Jungkook burrows a little deeper, his nose rubbing against your clit as he eats you out.

“Morning sex does sound nice,” You manage to say, breath shaking.

“Yeah,” he rasps against you. “It does, doesn’t it?”

Your thighs are already threatening to squeeze shut around his head, fingers tightening in their hold. His own hands find purchase on your waist, stretching outward to hold on to you, and nothing can break you both apart. Not even the muffled sound of rapid knocking on the front door of the too grand hotel room. At least, not the first two times. On the third time when it’s followed by the sound of Jungkook’s manager irritably calling out through the flimsy wood panel, does Jungkook groan into your cunt and poke his head upward, craning his neck to look over his shoulder as his manager’s voice carries infuriatingly loudly to you both once again.

“Get up already, will you? We’ve got several business meetings to conduct today and we haven’t got time for you to sleep off a hangover or whatever it is you’re doing━”

“Gimme ‘til noon!” Jungkook asserts gruffly. He settles himself back between your thighs, and you surely don’t miss the devious way he smirks just before burrowing his head into your heat. There’s an inaudible sound that he makes, that you and certainly his manager can distinguish as being, “I’m too busy right now.”

Busy is an understatement, pointedly made clear when his tongue delves into you, lapping at your leaking wetness as if he were terribly quenched and only you could save him. You don’t think Jungkook taking his morning to eat you out is a good enough excuse that will run over well with his manager later in the day, but it drives him away for now with only a grumbled chorus of words left in his wake. But the silence only lasts for so long. Just as Jungkook is getting comfortable once more, you speak up.

“I don’t think tardiness is a very good quality to have as a celebrity,” You ponder aloud through a heavily pleased sigh.

“Ah, or it’s exactly the thing I need,” he counters with a shit-eating grin. “Being late is a very celebrity thing, isn’t it?”

“When the fame gets to their head,” You snort. Your voice splinters off into a whimper as he tilts his chin up a little higher, lapping deeper into you.

“Then I guess I’m bad.” His voice murmurs against you, rattling you to the bone.

“You’re definitely far from bad. Everyone thinks you’re an angel.”

“Wonder if they’d think the same thing if they saw me now━” He pinches lightly at the inside of your thigh, “head between your legs, and you coming on my tongue.”

You roll your eyes, but your wittiness falls short when he tugs with his teeth at your folds. Your back arches off the bed at once, hips pressing harder against his face.

“Namjoon called last night,” You say. No, you don’t say it. You moan it and even though Jungkook knows it’s because of him and how he’s making you feel in that moment, he still hates hearing someone else’s name roll off the tip of your tongue that isn’t his. “If you must know. Said he wanted to see me in the morning━”

Jungkook grimaces. He grunts shortly, “Guess you’re gonna have to let him down.”

“I’m sure Joon will love that━”

“Don’t,” he hisses. He bites down a little harshly on the inside of your thigh but you don’t mind. When he glances up to look at you, his stare is dark and hooded. “Don’t say their names. Not now. Please.”

You almost miss the desperation in his voice, the way he almost whines his words. You don’t ask, even though you’re curious. You don’t ask, even when he eats you out that morning until he’s made sure you’re crying his name and nothing else. You don’t ask, even when fucks you slow and deep and measured and almost, dare you say, loving like he never has before, clinging onto you as if he can’t live without you. You don’t ask, even when he may get a little rough (just how you like it), as if he’s afraid you’ll leave him right then and there. You don’t even ask when he sucks not one but two hickeys on your neck, large enough for anyone to see. For Taehyung and Namjoon to see.

You never really do ask, even though you notice things have become different.

It’s not as if you haven’t always been close to one another. There are more times than not in which you both physically can’t keep your hands off of one another in public, though in the safest and simplest ways possible. It’s there, in the way you sit next to him with your legs crossed regally on the couch in the green room backstage before a set, playing with the rings on his fingers on the hand resting on your shoulder; there, in the way you sit draped across his lap, leaning into his chest, in the studio as they blur through recordings. When you give advice on composing or lyric writing, Jungkook listens. When you giggle into his ear and whisper lewd things when you probably shouldn’t in the middle of a party with important business men and other celebrities, Jungkook is captivated.

It wasn’t always supposed to be like this. Jungkook wasn’t always so madly in love with you, but he always knew there was something about you he just could not get enough of. You had chosen him first, approaching him late one night at a bar, and he was instantly head-over-heels. Even if it was mutually agreed upon ━ and oftentimes never really outwardly mentioned ━ that you could sleep around with him, Namjoon, and Taehyung, then Jungkook would have to deal with it. He would do anything, if it meant getting to see you more. At first he didn’t even mind. What was one more groupie to the ever growing list he had already accumulated? He’s never gotten feelings for any of them, so surely he thought he would be okay with you; that maybe whatever he was feeling for you would go away.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

After he asks you the question the first time, he finds himself stuck in a greedy months-long habit of asking you wistfully every time he finds you in his bed. He asks it a thousand and one times, but only ever gets one response from you. You’ll say no, that you have to leave, and sometimes you will. But sometimes ━ sometimes when he knows he wins out because he knows you let your guard down long enough to become besotted by him, a tangible mess with his every touch ━ you’ll linger just a little longer and the notion alone is enough to instill a sense of hope in Jungkook even if he knows it’s wrong.

And maybe you shouldn’t play along. Then again, he takes all your time and you devote what little you have left afterward to him anyway, pretending that you’re still seeing Taehyung and Namjoon when you’re certainly not.

Sometimes Jungkook catches you when he doesn’t mean to, or isn’t expecting to, and it’s all different moments that physically pain him. Sometimes those moments come from paying one of the guys a visit and stumbling upon you there, too.

After having not seen you for the whole day, and just before the concert begins, Jungkook is called over to Namjoon’s room within the hotel to discuss some last minute changes to the show (which Jungkook’s positive he would have heard about if he hadn’t ignored his manager early in the morning). Only Namjoon doesn’t answer the door when Jungkook arrives. There’s a crescendo of giggling on the other side of the threshold and then it’s you, and you’re standing there wearing nothing but a baggy shirt of Namjoon’s that barely covers your bum (and shorts too, he thinks, but Jungkook’s much too focused now on you in Namjoon’s shirt). Namjoon’s standing a bit further back, leaning against the wall of the hallway without a shirt on and he’s grinning at something that’s just happened.

“Took you long enough,” Namjoon calls out. “Come in, we’ll get started. I’ll just be right back━ Just hopped out of the shower━” And then he disappears into another room, most likely to find another shirt that isn’t taken by you.

“Jungkook!” You greet him so cheerfully, as if the sight of you half naked in another man’s home isn’t eating away at Jungkook. You pull him into a hug that’s so tight he can smell your familiar perfume and probably Namjoon’s lingering scent if he focuses hard enough. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Jungkook says. He doesn’t mean for his voice to sound so standoffish. He hopes you don’t notice. “You’re back early.”

“Yeah. The girls had to leave but that’s okay.” You’re smiling so bright and wide that it almost hurts. “Namjoon━”

“Wanted to see you?” Jungkook finishes for you, remembering your words earlier in the day.

“Yeah━” You’re rambling on now but Jungkook isn’t listening. The pain is still lingering and it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He knows it isn’t right but he can’t be bothered to care. In that moment, he realizes he’d rather be anywhere but there and he’s never felt that way before.

“Uh━ You know what?” He cringes slightly when he interrupts you. “Forgot I had to do something actually. Mina called earlier ━ said she wanted to talk or whatever.”

Your face immediately drops at the mention of the other girl and it pains him even more to know that you don’t see through his blatant lie. What’s worse is that Mina had called him the night before, but he had turned her down promptly before she could even say what she wanted.

You glance over your shoulder fleetingly as if to look for Namjoon, teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your lower lip. “But I thought you needed to talk with Joon about the show?”

“Can’t, sorry. Tell Namjoon he can do whatever he wants. I don’t care. Seems like he’s got his hands full with you here anyway.”

He hates himself for it ━ he hates how petty he can be, how rude he can sound without truly meaning it ━ but before he can explain himself or apologize in a way that would probably make him look even more like an idiot, he turns his back to you. It’s the first time he’s really ever done something like that. Usually, he puts up with it ━ with you draped over Namjoon’s lap or Taehyung’s hand on your waist because usually he hadn’t always had feelings for you.

Truth be told, Jungkook doesn’t know how Namjoon or Taehyung feel about “sharing” you. He doesn’t even know how you feel about it or if you’ve noticed Jungkook’s short temper lately. He tries to contain it but he can’t and he hates how he’s become when he’s not alone with you. Lately, he’s started to think that maybe this isn’t right anymore. Maybe he shouldn’t keep meeting up with you if he’s going to feel this way all the time, and it wasn’t fair to you for him to be sulking so much. He’s not supposed to be in love. He’s supposed to be having fun.

After all, that’s what it was to you, wasn’t it?

But that night something happens.

Jungkook only notices you half an hour into the show later that night even despite the fact that you’re in the same place that you always are, standing on the side in the part of the pit closest to the stage where only family and close friends are allowed to stay. Of course you’re dancing along, just like you always do, and of course you’re watching him and the rest of the boys with starry eyes, just how he loves. You smiled wide at some point when his gaze locked with yours ━ him, drenched in sweat and nearing exhaustion, and you, face-flushed and looking as if you’re having the time of your life.

But that’s the thing about you ━ you’re not like the others. Sure, your eyes tend to drift to him more often than not and linger on him longer than necessary but you don’t just come for him. You live for the music, admire the rest of the boys that have treated him so dearly and make the group what it is.

And the way he performs ━ you wonder if he purposely exerts himself more because he wants you to only focus on him. Every rough thrust of his hips, every time he grabs at his crotch, dark and hooded eyes meets yours and you know he’s trying to tease you. Trying to make you suffer.

Later, when the concert is finished and you’re at a private room in a club with the boys to celebrate the evening and Jungkook has had one too many shots, he finds you at the bar. He sidles up from behind you, one palm sliding onto the small of your back. You know it’s him even before you look, judging by the familiar stature of his chest pressing against your body, and his usual scent. His lips press to the crook of your neck and your lips unfurl into a smile. You reach up blindly to grab at the nape of his neck as he starts to sway against you to the beat of the music, hips digging into your ass.

“I’ve been dying to be next to you all night.” He whispers this into the shell of your ear and you wonder vaguely how you’ve maintained enough self-control to not drop to your knees and suck him off then and there. Even worse is the fact that he’s still adorned in the makeup from the concert. Your fingers scratch at one of the newly shaved sides of his head, the rest of his long locks only maintain some of its original style pushed back and off his forehead, though now messily mused as it splays out on either side of his head and threatens to hide the undercut once more.

“You’re drunk,” You point out. He doesn’t seem to register the fact that you only point it out because otherwise, if he wasn’t so smashed, you aren’t quite sure he’d even be touching you the way he is now after the way he’s been acting lately.

“So are you,” Jungkook hums. “Let’s get out of here?”

And you can’t possibly say no.

He thinks it’s a shame, really, because you had looked quite pretty that night wearing a velvet red dress. Because after somehow calling a taxi and stumbling back to his dorm, he gets lost in you for a while and completely ravishes you, impatiently ripping your dress off you and pressing you against the wall, hips eagerly digging into yours until you hook your legs around his hips and he carries you off to bed to finish.

When you’re spent from your first high, Jungkook moves from your sprawled out positions on the bed and gets up, pulling on a pair of discarded sweatpants from the floor. You watch him as he combs his hair back that’s fallen into his face again, muscles in his biceps rippling as he does so. He reaches for an acoustic guitar in one corner, then sinks onto the edge of the bed. He’s not usually this quiet after a night spent together, though you don’t quite seem to notice, thinking nothing of it as he starts plucking away at the guitar with a melody in mind if only because when he’s frustrated and stuck on a lyric, he usually goes to you in seek of help in terms of finding relief. You get to your knees, crawling over to him so that you can drape your arms around his shoulders from the back.

“That’s pretty,” You sigh dreamily, nodding to the guitar and the lazy strumming he had been doing. In the distance, you realize there’s been music playing faintly the whole time from the dock where his phone is plugged in. You recognize one of the boys’ songs playing, then realize it’s Jungkook’s solo, his own voice singing beautifully back to you. Above all else, you realize all at once that he isn’t really playing anything at all, or brainstorming a new song, but plucking along absentmindedly to the melody of his own song.

He’s distracted but he tenses at your touch, then relaxes at once, melting instantly against you. “Just messing around,” he sighs.

“Nonsense,” You giggle. He glances over at you just in time to see you reach for his hand, and he watches as you play with the rings on his fingers. “There’s magic in these hands. In more ways than one.”

You press a chilling kiss against his palm, and then the tip of each of his fingers. Time seems to slow, and all he can suddenly focus on is you.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” His voice has a dull, stubborn whine to it that he can’t shake. “Have I ever told you that?”

“Once or twice,” You smirk. You busy yourself by focusing on lining the bottom of your palm with his, measuring your hand in his. He’s much bigger than you, his fingers nearly towering over yours and they’re always so snug and warm.

“Well, it’s true,” he says. “You’re the kinda girl songs are written about.”

“Unless I’m mistaken,” You say in a matter-of-fact tone, “you have written songs about me.”

He feigns a look of doubt, though a smile threatens to tug at his mouth, especially when you delicately lace your fingers with his one-by-one. “Ah, is that what you think, baby girl? Don’t let the fame get to your head.”

You laugh, dropping your head and leaning your temple against his knuckles in an attempt to hide your sheepish face. With his free hand, he sets his guitar back onto the floor and then unravels his other hand from yours. His palm is calloused and hot as it slides onto your cheek, and you nuzzle into it even despite him guiding your face back up to look at him. He can’t help himself; he leans in to kiss you, biting at your lower lip and earning a delicious moan. As his hands come to grip at your sides just over your ribs and the underside of your breasts do you crawl into his lap to straddle him. For a while, he lets himself get carried away, feeling your hands roam his chest, but then with such vivid intensity, he can only imagine Namjoon and Taehyung in the same position as him and it almost makes him want to vomit. Either that, or it’s the alcohol. Gathering his wits, he shakes his head, pulling apart from you.

“I think I should write━” He fumbles uselessly with his words. “Namjoon’s gonna kill me if I don’t finish these songs━”

You arch your chest against his, warm and soft and palpable, and your hips dig into his a little more roughly, rubbing against his straining erection. You can be heard whining sluggishly as you kiss the underside of his jaw, “But I want you inside me, Kook.”

His breath hitches in his throat, but he can’t think straight anymore. Is the scent he smelling even you anymore, or just a mix of Namjoon and Taehyung? And when you tell him he’s the only one who can ever make you feel the way he does, do you tell that to them too?

His silence is answer enough, and is what ultimately forces you to look up at him. You’re met with an empty expression, then your own countenance is contorting. You sit back on his lap.

“I don’t understand you anymore, Jungkook,” You say. There it is, he laments to himself. The familiar pang to his chest, the dreaded realization that maybe he’s fucked this whole thing up forever. “It’s like sometimes you can’t get enough of me, touching me here and there and just before shows when you’re supposed to be on in ten minutes, telling me that no one will care if you’re late. Then sometimes it’s like you won’t even look at me. Like you can’t get me off of you fast enough; like you can’t even touch me anymore.”

Jungkook avoids your stare, which he knows is exactly the sort of thing he shouldn’t do. But you already have your answer. You clamber off of his lap at once to slide back onto the bed and he wants nothing more than to pull you back but he knows he shouldn’t. Now, you seem flustered, or maybe just disheartened. Your arms come to cross over your bare chest, as if to hide yourself.

“You don’t want to touch me anymore,” You say dryly.

It’s not a question so much as it is a statement. Either way, he shakes his head. Rubbing a tired hand over his face, he mumbles, “Maybe you should go.”

You clamp your mouth shut. “You’re not serious, Jungkook.”

He still doesn’t dare to meet your gaze, his jaw set hard in place.

“You’re kicking me out? Now? Now?”

“I’m not. I’m just━ Not in the mood tonight.”

“What a liar,” You gasp. “I had your stupid boner poking my ass the entire time we were at the club, and you sure as hell spent the better part of the night fucking me.”

He can’t quite tell if you’re mad. Your tone dances a fine line between incredulousness and amusement, though he assumes it all boils down to disappointment in the end anyway. You refuse to move, though, pushing yourself onto your knees beside him.

“Tell me the truth, Jungkook,” You plead carefully. “Something’s wrong. Has been for a while, and I want to know what it is.”

He takes a deep breath and finally meets your stare and, god, you look irresistible. Your lips are bruised red from him biting and sucking at them, and your exposed chest is too tempting, beckoning him to touch you. His mind is a whirlwind of emotions ━ plus, he’s just a little bit tipsy, and so he blames it on that for caving into you so easily.

He grimaces. “I’m jealous, all right?”

You don’t respond at first, and he decides he wants to curl up into a hole and die. Then, you snort, which isn’t exactly the sort of reaction he was expecting to hear from you, and suddenly you don’t seem so angry at him anymore. “I knew that. Was wondering when you’d tell me, though.”

“You what?”

“Well, it’s not that hard to see. You’re always giving Namjoon and Taehyung death glares when I’m around.”

“I didn’t think I was that obvious.” He says this sheepishly, and at least you giggle at him. “I just━ I’m selfish. I want you to myself.”

“I’m not a thing to have,” You retort.

“I know,” he says, and then groans the words again. “Fuck, I know. I’m sorry. I know you’re not a thing to have, and you’re not mine to have but, god, I hate it that they know everything about what it feels like to be with you.”

Gently, he grabs at your waist, tugging you onto his lap, rough hands spreading your thighs to sit perfectly on him once more. Then, with his hands planted on your hips, does he guide you back and forth on him slowly. He reaches out to brush his fingers along your bare arms, then across your collarbones, and down to your breasts. He leans down as if to kiss the valley between them, but his mouth never really does meet your skin; instead, his lips graze faintly against you.

“That they know your body.” He brushes his nose against your chest as he lifts his head. His mouth ghosts across your breasts, almost catching your nipples in his mouth, his breath warm and tingly against the sensitive flesh, just to tease you. His hand follows his lips, grasping firmly at the underside of your breast, his thumb flicking over the perked bud. “Have touched it where I’ve touched it.”

Your own hands flail out to grasp at his shoulders, your breath hitching in your throat. “Why? Why do you hate it so much? That’s all I want to know.”

“Because they don’t even know how lucky they are,” he mutters. “Because you probably do all sorts of things for them and they just think you’re another groupie. Because they aren’t in love with you.”

“You’re in love with me?” Your face is hot now, your body trembling. His hands are still on your chest when he starts kissing your throat.

“Yeah. I am.”

“What if I told you I’m in love with you too?”

“Well, you are fucking my band mates. I think that makes things a tad bit complicated.”

“You’re such an idiot.” You’re certain if he wasn’t making you feel like heaven in that moment, you would have snapped the words. Instead, you’re already shamelessly grinding your hips against his even without his guidance. “I called it off with them a while ago, actually. They were okay with it, too. Said they felt something was different. You’re the only one in my life, Jungkook.”

Jungkook stops suddenly. He pulls his head back to gawk at you and is greeted to your hooded eyes watching him. “You━ What? What about this morning when you said Namjoon wanted to see you?”

“I lied,” You admit timidly.

“And when you were in his room━”

“We never did anything,” You promise. “I just wanted to see a reaction from you. Honestly, so did Taehyung and Namjoon. I mean, Namjoon purposely told me to come to his room to see if you’d be jealous. And I think I went along with it because I really just want to know that when you ask me to stay with you, in your bed, do you really mean it? I just…” You trail off, biting at your lower lip, asking him apprehensively, “What about you and that Mina girl?”

“I haven’t seen her or talked to her in months,” he says earnestly.

“Of course not.” You say this in a breathless laughing manner, as if it’s just now dawning on you. Then, you reach up to cradle his head in your hands, grasping at either side of his face. When you speak next, your voice is an ardent whisper. “I want to be with you, Kook. Like really, really be with you. I didn’t know how to tell you because we were so used to just having sex and nothing more and I figured if that’s all I could get with you, then I’d learn to live with it even if it’d kill me to hear you hooking up with other girls.”

Jungkook blinks. He takes a moment to comprehend what’s happening, but then he’s feeling that tension in his chest loosen and he’s just so relieved.

“There’s only you,” he says. “Has been for a while.”

You smile, so big and soft and pretty, and he kisses you just to bask in the moment. Suddenly, he’s just overwhelmed with love for you and almost doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“Maybe I should get you jealous more often,” You muse pensively. “It’s kinda hot.”

“It’s mean,” he pouts. Then, his demeanour changes and he’s smirking wolfishly. “Besides, they can’t fuck you like I can, can they?”

“N-No,” You croak feebly. “It’s always been you, Jungkook. Even with them. I’d never tell them but… you’re all I could think about even when I was with them. Imagining you touching me instead of them. Imagining it was you when they laid with me.”

This seems to grab his attention, having him groaning into your neck. “What’d I say? Gonna be the death of me.”

You shiver at the sound of his hoarse voice. You whisper aloud, “The feeling is mutual.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been so stupid lately,” he says. “Let me make it up to you. Do you want that, baby girl? But first you gotta show me you mean it. That you’re mine.”

As he tongues a pattern against your throat, you muster a nod. You wonder if it’s obvious how badly you want him in that moment, with the way your hips continue to grind against his.

“I want you to fuck yourself on my thigh,” he murmurs against you. “Can you do that for me?”

The thought entices you and has you scrambling to nod your head again. His large hands come to grab at your ass, shifting you until you’re seated on one of his legs. Your eyes never stray from his as you start to grind against his thigh, the rough material of his sweatpants rubbing at your core. Slow and steady, he guides you back and forth, watching as your pretty mouth pops open into a silent gasp.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he coos. “God, you look so pretty. And you’re all mine. Touch yourself for me.”

“Where?” You ask breathlessly.

“All over. Anywhere you want me.”

You whimper at the thought, imagining the feeling of his rough hands on your body. You start at your chest, grasping at your own breasts, squeezing at your perked nipples. You pinch them until they’re hard under your fingertips, kneading the soft flesh of your breasts with your palm as you try to picture Jungkook doing the same. Then, you slide one hand down the front of your stomach, past your navel. He watches as you dip lower and lower before finally reaching between your legs, fingers rubbing small circles against your clit. The mingling feelings of you rutting your hips against his thigh and the way you touch yourself under his burning stare has you writhing on his lap within seconds.

“Oh, Jungkook━” Your eyes clamp shut, brows knitting in concentration. “Wanna feel you so bad━”

“Uh uh,” he tuts at once. Grabbing at your chin, he yanks your head back up in his direction and taps his thumb against your jaw. “Keep your eyes on me. I want to see how I make you feel.”

“But it feels so good,” You whine. Still, you listen, prying your eyes open just slightly enough to meet his stare again. Now, you’ve started to grind a little harder on him, rubbing at your heat a little faster. “Please, Jungkook━”

“Cum for me first,” he coos, his tone gentle despite his obvious demands. “Then I’ll do whatever you want. You can do that for me, right?”

You muster a nod, eyes threatening to flutter shut again but you refrain. He moves one of his arms to wrap around your waist, his large hard encompassing almost all of your back as he pushes you closer to him and the action alone is enough to make you hum with delight.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” he says. “The things they could never do for you.”

He doesn’t say Taehyung’s or Namjoon’s names for you to understand and, truthfully, you’re glad he doesn’t. Your mind is much too focused on Jungkook to care about anyone else.

“I want you━” You cry out suddenly, biting at your lip. “I want you to touch me, anywhere. I want you to use me, and make me yours. I want you in me. I just need your dick, Jungkook, please. You always make me feel so good. Please, please touch me━”

His jaw sets hard in place as he continues to watch you, fingers itching to please you however which way you want, but he waits. He knows you’re close to your high when you start whimpering and moaning his name, your hand falling from your chest as your other hand rubs harder at your clit the faster you ride his thigh. He flexes his muscle beneath your core, and the simple action is enough to have your head spinning. As you reach your high, his hand that is still wrapped around your chin slides upward and his two forefingers poke into your mouth. Instantly, you’re sucking against them, tongue laving at his digits desperately as you imagine his cock in your mouth, in your cunt, stretching you wide.

“God, you’re such a good girl,” he grunts. “Keep your eyes on me.”

As you unravel in his arms, body twitching into his chest, his arm tightens its hold around your back and envelopes you in his warmth so much to the point where it feels as if you begin to melt against him. You grab at his wrist, pushing his fingers deeper into your mouth until you almost gag, muffled moans meeting his ear as you climax. When you’re spent, your pace on his thigh slows to a steady occasional gyrating of your hips as you suck and lav at his fingertips.

“That’s it, baby girl,” Jungkook hums, his free hand stroking your back as you calm your nerves. When you’ve regained most of your wit, you pop Jungkook’s fingers from your mouth and he takes the liberty of guiding his palm down your chin to your throat to your breasts. “You’re doing so well for me. Bet you never listened as well to them as you do with me. Will you get on your hands and knees for me?”

You scramble to obey, crawling off his lap and onto all fours on the bed. You crane your neck to watch as he gets to his knees behind you, shoving the material of his sweatpants down to his knees in haste. He’s already impossibly hard, grasped in his knuckles, precum leaking from the head of his dick. He wastes no time in pushing himself into you, and though he’s stretched you wide hours ago, the same feeling of him slipping in snug to your heat does wonders on your body still.

“Mm, Jungkook!” You cry out as he buries himself balls deep into you, coaxed so easily by your slick arousal. He sputters at the sensation, palms pawing at your navel as he yanks you further down his cock. “F-Fuck━ You feel so good━”

“Show me,” he gasps, pulling his hips out once and rutting into you so vigorously you feel it shudder throughout your whole body. Then, he’s thrusting into you at a rhythmic fast pace that has you clenching so tight around him, his head spins some more. “Let me hear you. I wanna see how I make you feel. Let me see how you belong to me.”

He tugs at your elbows, yanking you up off the bed, and you clumsily follow suit, pressing your back flushed against his chest.

“I’m all yours, Jungkook,” You whine. “I want you to wreck me so bad. Only you know how to wreck me so bad.”

“Yeah?” he taunts. “Only me? Gonna prove it?”

“Please, Jungkook━ Harder, please━ I’ll do anything you want!”

He quickens his pace and slams his hips up into yours harshly. It has you moaning with delight, nearly slipping from his grasp, but he holds you tighter in place. He reaches round to grab at your chin again, twisting your head in a careful yet prompt manner so that you’re looking over your shoulder at him with your flustered gawking expression.

“Open up.” He taps at your mouth and you do as you’re told. Almost instantly, he pulls your chin closer until your mouth is hovering over his, and spits. It’s a wordless command and gesture, as if to further prompt you to prove your point. You welcome it entirely, swallowing his own saliva completely. What doesn’t make it into your mouth, dribbles down your chin and onto your throat. Then you’re chasing his mouth, hearing him hum approvingly, “That’s it, baby.”

You almost miss his lips the first time from the way he’s being so feral now as his hips continue to slam against yours. You’re fortunate when he guides your chin, still pinched between his fingers, in a much too tender manner for the crude moment that has your heart swooning despite all the hysteria. A hot open-mouthed kiss which is still entirely sloppy as your tongues ravish mid-air, and his teeth nip and suck on your lower lip any chance he can get.

“Gonna tell them how well I fuck you?” he asks breathlessly. You bite at his lip this time, tugging at it hard. “Let them know you’re all mine? Fuck━”

“Mhm!” You rasp. “Oh, Jungkook━”

By now, his pace is relentless. You threaten to ricochet from his grip with each rut of his hips, knees wobbling beneath you. He hand falls from your chin finally to grab at your breasts, replacing your earlier efforts, pinching at your nipples, squeeze at your soft flesh. He lavs wet kisses along your jawline, your neck, and shoulder. Your own head leans back onto his shoulder, a hand reaching out to grasp at his hair. Your fingers first scratch at the shaved sides, then thread through his hair, yanking at it tightly enough to have him grunting in delight.

“Jungkook, I’m gonna━” You whimper. “I’m gonna━”

But you don’t finish your thought. It doesn’t matter anyway. Jungkook already knows you’re close to your high with the way you start to clench around him. You pull even tighter at his hair, a pleasant burn evoking a hiss from his throat. His hips move even faster than before, desperate to try and carry you to your high. So riddled from your first orgasm not long ago and the one before that, you’re quick to crumble beneath him once more. Twisting and turning, you cry out his name in a repeated mantra, like music to his ears. When the scorching heat between your thighs and blinding your eyes subsides enough for you to be somewhat coherent again, you meekly find your voice.

“Tell me I’m yours,” You beg despairingly, voice barely a ragged panting whisper. The aftershock of your orgasm still shakes through your body that the way you’re clutching at his hair now is only so that you can still have some sort of hold on reality still. “Please, please. Tell me. I wanna be yours so bad. You already have me, just wanna hear it from you. Tell me you want me as much as I want you. Please, Jungkook━”

A nerve flutters in Jungkook’s heart. And his dick. He marvels momentarily at the idea of how he wants to continue to wreck you and simultaneously love you all over and grows impatient. Without warning, and with much difficulty, he pulls out of you. Before you can register what’s happening or miss the warmth of his cock in your heat, he pushes you onto the bed and flips you around so that you’re on your back. Then, hovering over you close enough so that he can hook one of your legs over his shoulder, he pushes himself back into you.

“You’re all I want,” he says, smoothing his mouth over yours once more. He moans against your lips, then rests his forehead against yours as he squeezes his eyes shut. “God, I’m so fucking in love with you. You make it so hard to think sometimes. Everything about you drives me wild.”

His pace isn’t as harsh as before, though he’s careless as he abandons all form in an attempt to ride out your high and reach his own. Each thrust he makes jolts you back and forth on the bed, the sensitivity between your thighs a mild burn that starts to crescendo as you gasp each time his cock slides back into you. You reach out tiredly to grab at his face with soft motions despite not bothering to move him from where he still rests with his forehead. One large palm of his comes to grasp at your side, pushing you further into the mattress as he hammers into you.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum━” He moans. “Gonna let me fill you up, baby? Gonna let me make your cunt mine?”

“Yes, please,” You rasp. “Wanna feel it so bad.”

It’s different this time despite knowing the sensation well enough from all those times before. Every event since then has been a build up to this, and when he finally releases into you, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. The last few sluggish ruts of his hips make the both of you whimper and whine, mewling with delight the longer he cums in your heat.

Then, he slumps against your chest and the room falls silent once more safe for the sound of your mingled panting. He burrows his face into the crook of your neck and your fingers rake through his sweaty hair in a soothing manner until that too ceases after a few silent moments.

“Not falling asleep on me now, are you?” he asks after the thrill of both your highs have subsided. He lifts his head to look at you and finds that you are, in fact, beginning to doze off.

“No,” You lie. You pry one eye open to look at him as you bite back a sheepish snicker. He pulls out of you at long last, and the lack of warmth has you immediately protesting. You reach out blindly for him before he can move too far. “Come back here. I want to cuddle you.” Then, letting your surroundings register once more, you realize suddenly that music has still been playing all this time. Most specifically, Jungkook’s solo which has been left on a loop. You meet his curious gaze in the dark and deadpan, “Did you seriously just fuck me to your song?”

“It’s not fucking when we were making love,” he wriggles his brows suggestively. You wonder how he’s always so quick to go from one extreme to the other. Whereas five minutes ago, you wanted nothing more than to have him demolish you with his dick, now he’s just his usual lovable idiotic self that you want to kiss all over. He’s not wrong though, you discern. The song isn’t a bad one either, and the thought of him having sex with you to his own music is undescriably hot anyway.

“You can’t say you were making love to me when you just took me raw.” Amongst other things, you think to yourself, but you’re certain he’s well aware of that. His snickers warm your heart to no end and you can’t help yourself when you lean forward to kiss him.

“I can and I will because I love you,” he says proudly. Then, as if tasting the words on his tongue and favouring the sound of it, hums more pensively again, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Jungkook.”

And this time he knows you mean it because, in the morning, when you both wake up feeling sore and marked all over by one another (so that Namjoon and Taehyung can know), you’re still curled up into Jungkook’s chest. You’re half asleep, your nose nuzzling against the crook of his neck and making him smile. You’re only roused awake by the feather-light strokes his fingers make as they rub small circles into your back.

“Stay with me?” Jungkook asks this hopefully, of course, but he already knows the answer. This time, he even knows it’ll be different.

He sees your sleepy smile widen when he kisses your temple sweetly, and decides quickly that he likes this, right there and now, as it is, and especially when he hears you whisper finally, “There’s no place I’d rather be.”

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

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lonelyyinchicago · 2 years ago

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lily luna’s lost tooth

“ginny?” teddy called, running down the stairs two at a time. “we’re going out; see you later!”

“it’s not even ten o’clock - where have you got to be so early on a saturday?”

teddy shrugged nonchalantly as lily tied her laces on the bottom step.

“just said we’d go down to the skatepark. we’ll be back by-” teddy cut himself off to think. “i don’t know - maybe seven.”

“okay” ginny replied, turning back to the paper. “i think harry’s making curry tonight if you want to be home in time for that.”

“err yeah maybe.”

ginny nodded and jumped, splashing her tea slightly as the front door slammed. her husband shuffled into the room, running a hand through his greying hair tiredly.

“who left? or just came?”

“teddy and lily” ginny said as she poured him a cup of tea. “they’ve gone out to the skatepark for the day.”

harry nodded slowly, cradling the mug.

“they’ll be fine” ginny told him, reaching out to rest a hand on her husband’s forearm. “he can look after both of them. maybe even too well.”

harry let out a reluctant laugh as he remembered the time teddy had been arrested but slipped out of trouble with a quick change of his entire body.

“definitely too well. what if he comes back with another tattoo?”

“what about it? i liked the first one - and the last one actually. the couple in between i was less keen on.”

“i liked the moon one too and i thought the second one was very” harry paused to find the right word. “tonks.”

a small, sad sort of smile pulled at ginny’s lips. a single tear rolled down her cheek, and harry wiped it away gently.

“he’s going to be okay. just like you said.”

ginny nodded, looking up into harry’s green eyes, searching for the comfort she knew they would bring her.

teddy was, in fact, absolutely okay as he carefully put lily on the board. standing at the top of the hill, he gave her a slight push and she gathered speed with a scream of delight, hitting speedbumps at an almost uncontrolled pace. a sharp whistle made him stop running after her and he turned his head to see a police officer making his way towards him.

“JOHNNY!”

a goofy smile spread across teddy’s face as the officer stopped right in front of him.

“how’ve you been? how are the kids?” teddy asked, smirking as the young officer rolled his eyes. “i haven’t seen you for ages.”

“it’s a good thing you haven’t seen me” johnny reminded him. “you’re not supposed to be this pleased to see a police officer.”

“yeah but you’re my favourite officer” teddy said with wink, holding out his hand for lily to pass him his board. he caught it deftly.

“you gotta stop riding in the road, teddy. you’re a hazard.”

“ahhh” teddy said, closing his eyes in pleasure. “the greatest compliment anyone’s ever given me. also technically i wasn’t the one riding.”

“i’m serious; we’ve had complaints from some of your older neighbours about a six foot boy with blue hair who is a constant nuisance.”

teddy’s eyebrows met briefly. his hair immediately turned red, curls falling to his shoulders. johnny shook his head as he watched teddy reposition lily back on the board, riding away down the centre of the road.

they arrived at the skatepark in under five minutes. lily’s green eyes lit up when she saw the skatepark was empty. she immediately ran up a ramp, waiting at the top for teddy to join her.

“you ready?” teddy asked, throwing down his bag.

lily luna nodded, gripping teddy’s fingers as he put his hands on her waist to hold her steady. he let go, his own smile spreading as he heard her squeal. she fell half way down, the momentum too much, her head flying back. her loose ginger curls surrounded her face as she lay on the flat part of the metal structure.

“LILY!”

teddy leapt down from the top, landing heavily next to her. she sat up, brushing the now out-of-place hairs away from her bright eyes. a large grin was on her face, and blood was dripping down her chin.

“can we do that again?”

“WHERE IS YOUR TOOTH?”

lily giggled, finally lifting a couple of fingers to feel the warm blood. she looked down at it somewhat amusedly.

“your mum is going to kill me” teddy said with a shake of his head.

he offered her a hand and pulled her to her feet before picking up the board.

“you want to go to the fair? it might be safer.”

“no” lily said with a slight pout. “push me again.”

“okay” teddy conceded, pulling her back up the ramp behind him. “you ready?”

#harry potter #ginny potter #ginny weasley #hinny #teddy lupin #lily luna potter #next gen hp

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gummybearzgocrazyagain · 3 years ago

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my hella arbitrary list of fav malec moments ranked, just because i felt so aaaaaaand i have an unhealthy obsession with lists that is definitely diagnoseable but ssshhhhh

37. “you stupid Nephilim“ (c)

36. “I think the autumnal theme would be nice” “ABORT, ABORT, Isabelle, are you insane?” (c)

35. Hall of the Accords kiss in CoG

34. subway mugging attempt from the very first date

33. the way you just know book!magnus enunciates word “Alexander”

32. this absolute gem of an interaction

31. Magnus somehow figuring that enchanting his sister’s whip with magical protections would be the best gift to Alec for his birthday

30. The simple fact of Alexander Gideon Lightwood turning out to be wild AF, and having a certain proclivity to tearing Magnus’ expensive wardrobe pieces right off him, while in throws of passion

29. “Wow, you and Monogamous Bane make me tired. He’s even dumber than you are” (c) Lily

28. When Clary invented a rune to temporary present herself as one’s most beloved, and Alec saw Magnus, even though it happened mere months in their relationship

27. Magnus coming to the Institute to see Alec off to Alicante in CoHF, even though they were broken up

26. “Alec Lightwood loved one man so much...” cause duh

25. “He is not my warlock” cause DUUUHHHHHH

24. general population of the Downworld sometimes subtly reminding Alec about Magnus being slightly out of his league (e.g. “Punch above your weight a little, huh?” (c), etc.)

23. but at the same time, the journey from “STOP HUGGING SHADOWHUNTERS IN FRONT OF MY PLACE OF BUSINESS” (c) TEC 1 to “Get a room, cute boys!” (c) TEC 2

22. Mere fact that in spite of all the convoluted and complicated history Magnus has had with Nephilim over centuries, he eventually somehow ended up being married to their highest authority figure like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

21. “I do not ever want another love“ how dare you sir

20. the fact that Alec instantly knew(c) with Max, and Magnus instantly knew(c) with Rafe

19. and that it is physically impossible for them to come by an abandoned child, and stop themselves from adopting on the spot

18. Alec’s behaviour during warlock sickness in TDA

17.

16. ELYASS

15.

14. “The Voicemail of Magnus Bane” cause legendary

13.

12. “Catarina gave Magnus a delighted look over Alec’s shoulder. “At last”, she murmured. “A keeper.” (c)

11.

10. unforgettable “Since I am the Consul now, I guess I make the rules.” [...] “Was that flirting?” Magnus said. “Because I have to tell you I’m more in than I thought I would be.” [...] “Yes.” Said Alec. He paused. “No. A little bit.” [...] ‘’I mean I make all the rules. I’m in charge now”. “I told you already I was in“ (c) QoAaD

8. I wanna say the entirety of tRSoM, which main plot premise was “two poor clueless idiots are just trying to screw each other in peace, but kept getting cockblocked at every turn”, but am gonna say Rome Hotel Scene, for reasons

7. also, the marvellous fact that the cockblocking torch was passed down from demons/cultists/princes of hell to malec’s very own precious infant heir

6. aaaaaaand of course let’s not forget to mention Simon Lewis in that particular regard

5. the general level of thirst throughout the whole saga

4. Yes, this one, this one fits, after all the stumbling around and searching, and here it is. (c) What to buy the Shadowhunter

3. The Land I Lost (”his first kiss and his last”, “but he could imagine, in some faraway future, the face he loved best”, “hey, my baby”, “once he’d said “my betrothed” and felt like a total idiot”, feel free to stop me at any point)

1. [...] I spent days dying in chains, thinking you would never know this, so let me tell you now. I will love you as long as I live. However long or short my life may be, it seems to me that I could never find time enough to love you as you deserve. Loving you made me believe in eternity. Aku cinta kamu. (c)

#malec #shadowhunters #book!malec #Magnus Bane #alexander gideon lightwood

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genshin-impacted · 4 years ago

Text

learning curve // Zhongli x Reader (NSFW)

Word Count: ~1.7k

Notes: gender-neutral reader, Zhongli/Reader, established relationship, half SFW/NSFW -- lots of dirty talk, overstimulation, praise kink, voice kink, cockwarming, soft dom!Zhongli, sub!reader, mentions of switching

Summary: As your lover, Zhongli learns what makes you happy and finds out in the middle of all of it how much he enjoys being able to please you-- both romantically and sexually.

In everything Zhongli does, he practices patience and focus. In all his years of living as an adeptus, a god, and a mortal man, he has willingly accepted his role as a student as he continues to learn and discover new things that the world has to offer. In many ways, learning is his passion, for his expansive knowledge of all things Liyue and beyond is something of value to him whether it has a function or not.

Zhongli is a meticulous man-- thorough and precise, leaving no stone unturned in the pursuit of knowledge, and that includes learning how to best please you as your companion, and as your lover.

You like it when he presses kisses onto your hands. He knows this because each time he does, you always hide your wobbly smile behind your other hand, laughing in embarrassment before flashing him a smile. You also like it especially when he kisses your forehead when you arrive home from commissions because all the tension in your body seems to leave the moment his lips touch your head, your hands already reaching out to hug him after a long day.

For the walks along Liyue Harbor, he intertwines your fingers into his, clasping palm upon palm, because he knows how you adore his affection in public, a subtle demonstration that the two of you belong to each other. You love the smell of glaze lilies, the taste of violetgrass, and the look of a silk flower bouquet on the dining room table; and he loves the sound of your laugh, the brightness of your smile, and the way he can make you happy by paying attention to your preferences. When he gets a new cologne-- a mild but masculine one that was recommended by Ying’er, your hands are all over him, whether or not you’re aware of it, attracted to his scent and his presence alone. But, oh, he also adores when you are aware of it, your voice as low as a purr when you can smell his cologne, call him ‘irresistible’ and tug him into the bedroom by his tie.

You take good care into loving him too, in the little ways-- rubbing circles into his temple when he comes back from a long day of work, brewing him tea with the scent of Qixing flowers in the early mornings. But in the bedroom, you are much like the veteran adventurer of Teyvat that you are, zealously finding out what he likes best: licking stripes up the vein on his cock, kissing at the space behind his ears, and pulling at his nipples with your teeth. He is at your mercy when you ride him, milking out his orgasms until he’s gripping his nails into your thighs (much to his embarrassment and much to your delight when he leaves noticeable marks afterward).

Zhongli is by no means experienced (not that you were particularly either), but he makes up for the lack of experience by doing what he has done for the past millennia.

He learns.

He is sensitive to your reactions, noting every gasp or moan he can elicit from you, and how your body responds to each of his ministrations. He adjusts how hard he presses, where to touch you, how fast to do something-- how to make you feel good because out of the many songs of beauty that have graced his ears, your voice crying out his name is by far the most melodic. You are his lover, his beloved, his dove-- surely, he need not explain that he would want nothing but the best for you, and if he can bring about your happiness, be it by gifting you with flowers or by making your back arch in pleasure, then he would surely do it.

But just when did he begin seeking out your pleasure-- your words of praise-- so voraciously?

"Zhongli, ah!" He would hear you gasp when he finds that one spot that makes you lose your inhibitions about showing your expressions. You grasp at his arms and tell him to do it again, words of praise spilling from your mouth as he repeats his actions dutifully to bring you closer to the peak. "You feel so good," you moan. "Zhongli--!"

Making you cry out his name louder and higher until you reach your peak and fall, and he builds it back up again almost ruthlessly. The more he hears from you, the better. He's ardently pounding into you harder, faster until you're sinking into the bed, or using his tongue until you have made a mess on his face, legs shaking from overstimulation and mind unable to fathom how many times you felt waves upon waves of pleasure course through you.

He's learned what you like, what has your nails digging into his flesh and what makes you say his name until your voice grows hoarse. And he's liked how he's also learned a new side of you, for whenever you are pliant under him, at the mercy of his actions, you respond well to his voice.

Zhongli would be a fool to not take advantage of that.

He thrusts into you and listens to you keen, calling you eager and telling you how much he's enjoying watching you fall apart. The phrases he tells you are almost elegant-- poetic, even, with the way he weaves praises into his words and describes in the finest detail how he feels about you. It's a perfect juxtaposition to when he speaks the dirtiest of things into your ears-- of how well you're taking his cock, how tight your walls are clenched over him, and oh, you like it when he talks to you like this, don't you?

"Can you come with just my voice alone, do you gather?" Zhongli asks you, his voice reverberating through you as a shiver. "You're twitching.” He observes with a hint of amusement, making you hide under the darkness of your hands in embarrassment. He chuckles, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “Is that something you desire, my love?”

When your breath hitches, he says lowly into your ears, “I’m more than willing to see it through if that is what you please, having me sheathed inside of you while you come untouched--”

Zhongli takes a sharp intake when he feels you clench over him in response, and with a grunt, he buries himself inside of you again.

"Ah, Zhongli," you call out, tugging at his hair with a grip that has him seeing stars. "Zhongli, Zhongli--"

And his name on your lips sounds like words of praise.

"Tell me what you want," Zhongli asks. He kisses at the juncture of your throat, knowing it to be unfair since that spot has never failed to make you breathless. "Tell me what you want, and I shall provide." He chuckles when you let out a whine, your hands clawing at his back, wordlessly begging him to continue. "It will be your reward," he says, "for being so good for me."

"Zhongli--"

“So obedient,” Zhongli continues, trailing kisses down your neck as his hand reaches up to pinch your nipple. “So shamelessly loud, so full of want for me with your legs urging me to thrust inside of you and your arms making marks on my body. Tell me, my little songbird, do you want the entirety of Liyue to know that I am yours?"

"I'm yours," you cry out, and it takes everything in Zhongli not to bottom out inside you again. "I'm yours, Zhongli; please move! Fuck me--"

You keen again when Zhongli sucks onto the skin at your collarbone, leaving a mark that's sure to turn a deep purple by tomorrow. And without further delay, Zhongli tangles his hand with yours and gives you what you want, his cock thrusting into you at the angle he knows will have you seeing stars, and it does not take long for you to rise to the peak again.

When you fall, Zhongli catches you with a kiss, swallowing your moan and letting you roll your hips as you ride out your orgasm. He finishes soon after, with his forehead pressed against yours, his cum splattered on your stomach.

He always murmurs soothing words as the both of you come down from your highs, pressing gentle kisses onto your cheek until he feels your arms wrap around him.

You respond well to praise, he catalogs as you slide into the bath after him. It is truly a windfall for you to be so compatible with him in this way, for he loves to praise you as much as you love receiving them. Or is it that you simply respond well to his voice in general?

"Will you respond like that each time we make love?" Zhongli asks afterward when the two of you bathe in the rose-scented water, and he watches you lazily play with the water.

You turn your head to him grasping onto his thigh so you don’t float away. “Because of what?” You reply teasingly, “You’re going to have to be more specific considering the fact we did so much.”

Zhongli fights down the blush to no avail as he clears his throat at your familiar ribbing. You have always made him grapple for words, so in a way, he would be more than pleased if he were able to render you speechless on a repeated count. “On the… words of praise. You seemed quite receptive to that.”

He hears you laugh as you turn around, making waves in the water. "You really do have a way with words, huh,” you comment. “You’re very good at that.”

“That is because I always have praise for you, my love,” he teases, hearing you laugh again although albeit shyly. “If you liked that, I would not mind having a repeat performance, so to speak.”

You hum thoughtfully, sneaking your hands into the water to grasp his. “Well,” you begin, and he knows you well enough to know that there is a shine to your eyes. “Only one way to find out!”

And Zhongli continues to learn with you.

#genshin impact x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #genshin impact imagine #genshin impact zhongli #genshin smut #genshin zhongli #zhongli/reader #dom zhongli supremacy??

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imagine-you · 3 years ago

Text

make all your demons be gone pt. 3 (sirius black/reader)

summary: When you first meet your brother's friends, you're not very impressed. You're especially not so keen on Sirius Black and the feeling seems mutual. But as time goes on, you start to realize there's more to the boy who seemed to only hate you because of the house were sorted into. Through heartbreak, loss, danger, and pain, you begin to realize that you need Sirius just as much as he needs you.

chapter word count: 2.8k

author's note: This fic will involve angst, enemies to friends to lovers, family drama, and a whole host of other goodies.

If you like this, please let me know! It would make my day. 💖

read on ao3

Once you were on speaking terms with James again, your time at Hogwarts became a lot more enjoyable. James made a point out of inviting you over to the Gryffindor table for some meals, and while Sirius seemed to scoff at the idea of a Slytherin sitting with a bunch of Gryffindors, Lily seemed more than happy to welcome you.

As time passed, you were delighted to realize that you were forging friendships that meant you didn’t solely depend on your brother for companionship.

Your friendship with Lily was bright and happy and one of the best things about Hogwarts for you. She included you and confided in you and made you feel like you were special. She was unlike anyone you had ever really met before and you felt lucky to have so easily garnered her friendship.

Severus didn’t seem all too pleased that you had reconciled with your brother, but he continued to be your friend. He helped you out with your potions work when you found Slughorn’s explanations long-winded and rambling, and you listened to his theorizations on spell creation and the spells he would find most useful.

Remus Lupin had even taken to starting up a couple of timid conversations with you, as if cautiously gauging your interest in a friendship with him. You found that Remus had a wicked sense of humor, but he was kind. There was a quiet reservedness about him, but he was always good for a fascinating conversation about magical creatures.

You didn’t really mesh well with Peter. He seemed like all he wanted was the approval of your brother and Sirius and Remus, in that order, but he wasn’t outright hostile towards you. Which, you figured, already had you favoring him over your brother’s bonehead of a best friend.

As the end of the year approached, you looked forward to spending the holidays at Hogwarts. James had promised you snowball fights and trips to explore the castle and sneaking treats from the Hogwarts kitchens. It all sounded so wonderful, so of course you couldn’t help but feel excited.

But first, you had to get through the rest of your classes before you could enjoy your holiday.

You didn’t care much about potions, much to Slughorn’s and Severus’ disappointment. You supposed you liked astronomy well enough as well as herbology and charms. It wasn’t like you were getting poor marks, but they didn’t grasp your attention like some of the other subjects. You enjoyed transfiguration and even though most other first years thought she was scary, you enjoyed Professor McGonagall’s attitude when it came to teaching. She was a good teacher, unlike Slughorn in your opinion, and you found that you enjoyed the subject. You also enjoyed Defense Against the Dark Arts and had a natural adeptness to the subject according to your professor.

But surprisingly, the subject you enjoyed the most was History of Magic. Even though most other students found the class quite dull, you found yourself poring over your textbook, eagerly absorbing the knowledge held within the pages.

“History of Magic? Really? That’s your favorite?” Sirius scoffed, shaking his head as he looked at Peter. “Mad barmy this one,” he muttered, just loud enough to ensure that you heard him.

“And what’s your favorite?” You leaned across the Gryffindor table, ignoring the fact that your tie was dipping into the eggs on your plate, and quirking an eyebrow at Sirius.

“Not this again,” James groaned, looking like he was barely restraining himself from rolling his eyes.

“Defense Against—” Sirius started before you cut him off.

“Of course you do,” you snorted.

“And? What’s so bad about that?”

“Nothing,” you offered, tilting your head to the side as you considered Sirius. “It’s just so obvious, though, isn’t it?”

Sirius furrowed his brow, opening his mouth to no doubt argue with you, before James stood up from the table. “It’s too early to listen to you two argue,” James grumbled before he reached out and grabbed the back of Sirius’ shirt. “C’mon,” he growled.

“But—” Sirius protested, reaching out to snag a piece of bacon from his plate, before he let James drag him away. “She started it!”

“No, I’m fairly sure you did,” you heard James point out as he towed his best friend away from the Gryffindor table.

“Well,” Remus mused, reaching out to steal Sirius’ last piece of bacon, “that was an eventful start to the day.”

You twisted your lips in a frown before you took another bite of breakfast.

You knew that James was hovering somewhere between exasperated amusement and outright frustration regarding your feud with Sirius.

“I just don’t get it,” James said one afternoon when you both had a break from classes. “Every time you two are near each other, you find something to fight over. Why do you two hate each other so much?”

You thought of Sirius’ outright rejection from the moment you met him and his continued disdain shown towards you. “I don’t hate him…not really,” you admitted. “It’s just…he’s irritating. And I kind of want to hex him,” you finished with a shrug of your shoulders. “Or maybe just kick him,” you added with a thoughtful frown.

“And how is that not hating him?” James bumped his shoulder against yours. “You’re my sister and he’s my best friend. Can’t you two just…get along? For me?”

You frowned at James. You? Get along with Sirius? You supposed stranger things had happened but nothing immediately came to mind.

“Fine,” you conceded with a groan. “I’ll try, alright? But it goes both ways, you know. He has to want to get along too.”

From the look on James’ face, you got the feeling he didn’t have much hope for the future of a possible friendship between you and Sirius.

Your first year passed quicker than you wanted it to. Before you knew it, you were studying for final exams, and everyone was making plans for their summer break.

You didn’t really know what you wanted to do with your summer break. You were sure you would keep in touch with your new friends and complete your summer assignments and do your best to convince your parents that you were ready for a pet, preferably one you could take with you to Hogwarts. You also assumed that you and James would be back to your usual antics. There would be adventures and staying up late at night and generally causing trouble together. You wanted to explore and laugh and have fun, which you just assumed would happen with James. Sure, you had a bit of a rough patch last summer, but this summer would be loads better than the previous one. This summer, you would be able to make up for all the fun you didn’t have last year.

Of course, you should have known better. Maybe it was because you had been so consumed with making sure you passed all your classes that you didn’t realize James was making his own plans for how he would spend his summer break.

You were sitting at a table in the library, trying to get as much studying done as you could before your charms exam, when you were joined by James, Sirius, and Remus. You were surprised that Peter wasn’t with them, since he seemed to want to follow your brother everywhere he went. James knocked his shoulder into yours in greeting before he started rifling through his bag, likely looking for his class notes.

“I can’t wait to get away from Hellatrix and mother and everyone else this summer,” Sirius mused with a wistful look on his face. You noticed he wasn’t even bothering to pretend like he was going to study. He was leaning back in his chair, a faraway look on his face, as if his mind was already halfway through his summer break and not focusing on finishing his exams.

“The summer break isn’t even here yet and you’re already anticipating getting away from your family,” Remus remarked, amusement clear in his tone.

“Well, yeah,” Sirius answered, with an expression that told you he thought Remus shouldn’t be surprised by the turn of events. “You don’t know what it’s like in that house. You’d be eager to get away from all of them too. I’m just grateful to James for arranging it so I can spend the second half of break at his house.”

That was news to you. You shot James a betrayed, scandalized look that he met with an apologetic shrug of his shoulders.

“It’ll be nice to get away from the snakes for a while,” Sirius continued, missing the silent exchange between you and your brother. Sirius’ eyes flicked over towards you, considering you for a moment. “Well, most of them,” he amended with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Don’t start with me, Black,” you growled, already dreading the summer with Sirius.

“I’d watch out for her if I were you,” James advised Sirius. “The Hat put her in Slytherin for a reason.”

Before, you thought James’ tone would have been bitter and resentful, but he just sounded proud now. Not proud of you being in Slytherin, but proud of you. It was the only thing that kept you from throwing a book at Sirius’ head.

You took solace in the fact that he said it was only for the second half of summer, so at least you would have the first weeks for James to make it up to you. You wanted to fight the decision. You briefly considered sending your parents a letter to tell them it was a horrible idea and that they should rescind their invitation, but as you listened to Sirius, Remus, and James make jokes and talk, you knew that you would have to resign yourself to Sirius’ presence in your life.

Unless you got very, very lucky, you were sure Sirius Black wasn’t going anywhere any time soon, since your brother seemed to think the world of his best friend.

Peter scampered up to the table, a couple of books clutched to his chest, and a harried expression on his face. “Wait, what did I miss?”

You rolled your eyes before moving to gather your books and notes off the table. “The end of my sanity,” you muttered before shouldering past him, ignoring the low murmur of Sirius making what he likely thought was some witty remark.

You were happy when you managed to pass all of your exams. You were pleased to learn that your marks had you ranked near the top of your year. You felt like you had never really been the best at anything. Since coming to Hogwarts, you had largely been considered as either James Potter’s sister or a Slytherin or both and nothing more. You had found yourself longing to carve out your own legacy at Hogwarts and while you had a long way to go, you felt like you were off to a good start.

In June, when you were stepping off the Hogwarts Express, the summer break stretched out in front of you with no need to study in sight just yet, you couldn’t deny that you were excited. It only took one glimpse of Sirius clapping a companionable hand to James’ back and shooting him a pleased grin to shatter your good mood.

“See you next month,” Sirius told your brother before brushing past him and disappearing into the crowd of departing students.

“Maybe I can spend some time at Lily’s,” you wistfully mused once James joined you at your side. “You couldn’t give me a Sirius-free summer? Do you hate me that much?”

“Oh, come on,” James sighed, slinging his arm around your shoulders before steering you in the direction of where your parents were waiting for the pair of you. “It won’t be that bad. You two might even end up being friends by the time we go back to Hogwarts.”

You shot James a skeptical look at that, but you didn’t have it in you to argue with your brother once your mother was pulling you into a hug and telling you how much she had missed you.

Once you got back home, you made sure that your time without Sirius in the house was the best it could possibly be. You made James explore the grounds with you and go on made-up adventures and concocted all kinds of stories with him when it was late at night and you were lying on your bedroom floor, thinking of ridiculous scenarios and fantastical characters.

You wrote to Severus and Lily and even Remus, asking about their summer vacations and telling them all about how you dreaded Sirius’ arrival as it drew closer. Lily and Remus were quick to assure you that Sirius wouldn’t be all that bad, but Severus had told you that if you needed a rescue, he would try to figure something out for you.

You held onto the hope that your brother would somehow be right. Maybe you hadn’t given Sirius a fair shot. Sure, he was irritating and a bit cruel with his words towards you, but he was your brother’s best friend. There must be something redeemable about him, right?

Of course, because you had horrible luck, your brother was completely wrong.

From the moment Sirius stepped foot in your house, you found yourself desperately grasping for your sanity and patience.

Sirius was a menace. You thought he was difficult to tolerate at Hogwarts, but once you were forced to endure his presence at every meal and whenever you wanted to spend time with your brother, Sirius became nearly unbearable to be around.

Sirius had taken to picking on you mercilessly and you did your best to give back as good as you got.

One morning at breakfast, Sirius kicked your chair out before you could sit down, a laugh bubbling out of his mouth when you fell to the floor. In retaliation, you attempted to dye his hair green, joyous when it worked a little too well, and Sirius had to suffer with neon green hair for a couple of hours. You took the opportunity to poke fun at him, telling him maybe there was a little Slytherin in him after all.

Sirius called you a snake and you called him a brute. Sirius switched out the salt for sugar and you put hot sauce in his orange juice. Sirius traded out your soap for frog spawn soap and you put itching powder in his bed.

It went on and on until the end of summer. It wasn’t until you were in Diagon Alley, picking up your supplies for your second year at Hogwarts, that James finally broke his silence on the prank war between you and Sirius.

“I don’t know whether to find it funny or frustrating,” James confided in you while you were getting your new textbooks from Flourish and Blotts.

“What?” You had a good idea what he was talking about, but you figured it was in your best interest to play dumb for now.

James gifted you with a quirked eyebrow and an unimpressed look. “You know what,” he answered. “You and Sirius and whatever you’re doing. Are you two ever going to give it a rest?”

“He started it,” you mulishly offered, a frown on your face. “He’s all ‘you’re a snake’ and ignoring me and spawning frogs in my bathtub.”

James’ lips twisted to the side, as if he was stifling a laugh, before he shook his head. “You two are impossible,” he sighed. “I have no doubt you truly despise each other, since I’ve listened to him rant away about how annoying he finds you, but—” James cut himself off with a roll of his eyes.

“But?” You prompted when it was clear James wasn’t going to continue talking.

“But I think you two have more in common than you think,” James finished, ignoring your noise of protest. “If you would stop picking on each other, you would probably realize that.”

You snorted in amusement at the thought of becoming anything approaching friends with Sirius Black. “Yeah? I could say the same for you and Severus.”

“I am not--” James started, indignation quickly replacing amusement.

“If you would stop picking on each other, you would probably realize that,” you echoed James, a smirk on your face. Although, considering the interactions you had witnessed between Severus and James, you were sure the world would burn before either of them gave an inch of ground in their shared hatred for each other. You had to concede that you were definitely more likely to start getting along with Sirius than your brother would be to get along with Severus. You doubted either one of them would ever find something to favor in the other.

“Okay, maybe it’s wishful thinking on my part,” James started, turning to consider you. “But maybe it wouldn’t hurt you to try to get along with him.”

At that moment, Sirius brushed past you, surreptitiously knocking the book out of your hands, before continuing down the aisle, whistling as if to cover up his misdeed.

“Maybe it would,” you grumbled, resisting the urge to throw something at Sirius as he walked away from you.

author's note: There will be a bit of a time jump after this one, but we're going to slowly segue from enemies to friends with Sirius now.

Taglist: @yourmumssoggytits @iwritesiriusly @emily1d97 @mizelophsun11 @aleksanderwh0r3 @mysticalfuncollectorus @leilaniwastaken @thegardenofbrokendreams @honeybxes @esn0ra @siriusement @takem3tothelakes @fangeekkk (if you would like to be added to the list, please let me know! 💖)

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #sirius black x you #harry potter imagine #marauders #reader insert #reader #reader is a potter #reader is a slytherin #make all your demons be gone fic #my fic

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viking-raider · 4 years ago

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Southern Generation - Part IV

Summary: Sy wakes up in Lily’s arms and shows his gratitude for her comforting him. The mysterious caller is revealed, causing Sy to get extremely protective.

Pairing: Captain Syverson/OFC

Word Count: 7,178

Rating: M - Language, Protective!Sy, Domestic Kink, Stalking, Harassment, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst, Confession, Smut - Nipple stimulation, intercourse, orgasm, cream pie.

Inspiration: Always wanted to write a Sy fic and this is a re-work on an old fic I wrote several years ago.

Author’s Note: Thank you for all the love and support, @wondersofdreaming! Your ideas, suggestions and encouragement mean the world to me, and my stories.

Sy woke the next morning wrapped around a warm body and a steady heart beat in his ear, he tipped his head back and was met with Lily's sleeping face, his head pillowed on her breasts. He smiled, hugging his arms snugger around her waist and sighed, comfortable and peaceful, nuzzling his face into her chest.

Lily moaned softly, making Sy smile against the fabric of the night shirt she was wearing, her hand moved against the broad expanse of his back, fingertips sleepily caressing his spine, unconsciously soothing him, before moving between his shoulder blades, tickling the nape of his neck and rubbing the back of his head with her palm.

He vaguely remembered her calling his name and holding him after his nightmare, whispering into his ear that he was safe and at home, with her. Lily made the choice to bring him to her bed, comforting him even more, until he fell asleep, and for the first time in years, Sy actually dreamt about something other than war and endless spaces of bloody sand.

Reaching up, Sy brushed his fingers through her bangs, smiling. “My Angel.” He whispered, not wanting to wake her.

Carefully unwrapping himself from around her, Sy slipped out of bed and gingerly covered Lily up, before tip toeing downstairs to the kitchen. Scratching the back of his head for a moment, Sy moved about the kitchen, setting up the coffee maker, pulled out the skillet and started making breakfast. He figured she had been making him breakfast every morning for the last several months, it was time for him to return the favor.

So, Sy went all out, once he had everything made, he brought it upstairs to her.

Lily took a deep breath and moaned, stretching and rolling onto her back, but found Sy was no longer in bed with her. She sat up, panicked that something had happened to him, and was about to get out of bed to look for him, when he appeared in the bedroom door, relieved he was all right.

“Morning.” He smiled, finding her sitting up.

“Did you make breakfast?” She frowned as he approached her side of the bed.

“I did.” He nodded, setting her steaming cup of tea on her bedside table. “I thought, since you always make me breakfast, that I'd make you breakfast this go around.” Sy explained, setting the tray of food over her lap.

“What's better than breakfast in bed?”

“Nothing currently comes to mind.” Lily smiled, a soft blush on her cheeks, actually pleasantly surprised at this change of events, touched at Sy’s sweet gesture.

“I didn't think so.” Sy chuckled, pulling up the chair that was at a small desk in her room and sat down, balancing his own plate of food in his lap.

“So, what's on your agenda today, Captain?” She asked, taking a sip of her tea and was surprised to find it was exactly to her liking.

“I think, it's time I started working on the roof.” He replied, bringing his fork to his mouth. “I want to at least give it some temporary patches, before the weather turns.” He told her, after swallowing. “It'll also give me a chance to find out what all the problems with it are, and if I'll need to re-roof it.”

“I hope not.” Lily frowned, washing down some of her food with a gulp of tea.

“Well, from what I've seen on the ground, it looks to be the original roof that was put on when the house was built.” He chuckled at her, setting his empty plate on her nightstand. “That was nearly a century ago.”

“Unless, you know about it being replaced since then?” He asked her, tilting his head.

“The realtor didn't mention it to me.” Lily replied, searching her mind for any scrap of memory of the day she bought the place.

“That's all right.” Sy assured her, gently touching her hand. “I'll get it done, don't you worry.”

Lily smiled at him, turning her hand to thread her fingers with his. “I'm not worried, since you're the one on the case.” She replied, softly.

Sy grinned at her, bringing her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers, before letting go and collecting their plates. “You know, what would you say, if I managed to install a dishwasher for you?” He asked, pausing in the doorway of her bedroom.

“I have a dishwasher.” Lily giggled, holding up her hands and wiggling her fingers at him.

“You know what I mean, sugar butt.” He laughed, smirking even broader at her.

Lily shrugged, still giggling at him, her cheeks coloring at his nickname. “I don't know, Bear. I've never had one before.”

“Well then, Angel, I'll riddle that one out for you.” He promised in a soft voice.

“I believe you.” She whispered back, giddy, and not for a dishwasher.

“I'm going to check the mail.” Lily said, drying her hands on a dish towel, after washing the dishes from lunch.

“All right.” Sy nodded, still sitting at the table.

Sy had stood to refill his coffee cup, when the phone rang. Biting his lip and glancing out of the kitchen, he saw Lily was too far down the driveway to call her back to answer it, so he picked it up instead; clearing his throat.

“Moore residence.” He spoke into the receiver.

“She's a sweet thing, isn't she?” A sinister voice asked from the other end.

“Excuse you?” Sy barked, a flash of hot anger bursting through his body.

“Oh yes.” The voice chuckled, incredibly delighted. “She is sweet as a Lily, so pure and good.”

“Who is this?” Sy demanded with a deep growl, his teeth gritted and bared as he gripped the handle of the phone even tighter in his hand.

“She's mine, you know.” They growled back at Sy, breathing heavily, their own anger mounting. “She's always been mine and she will always be mine.”

“Not anymore.” Sy hissed back and slammed the phone down in its cradle.

“Sy?” Lily frowned, coming into the kitchen as he hung up the phone. “Who was that?”

“I don't know, you tell me?” He replied, turning towards her, brows drawn together.

“I'm not the one that answered it, Austin.” She countered, shaking her head, confused by his anger.

“It was some guy, said you were his, always had been and would be.” Sy told her, pushing his jaw forward.

Lily's eyes glassed over, letting out a shuddering breath and started trembling. Sy blinked at her, his anger at the caller's words melting away to alarmed concern. He took a step forward, reaching out for her, but Lily stumbled away from him, tears finally spilling free.

“Lily.” He whispered softly, his chest tight. “Easy.” He cooed at her, licking his lips.

“I'm not his, not anymore.” She whimpered, shaking her head. “Why can't he just leave me be.”

Sy blinked at her, frowning harder. “What?”

“Nothing.” Lily mewled, biting her lip.

“No, come on.” He coaxed her, resting his hand on her arm and gently pulled her against him. “Tell me.” He whispered, gently rubbing her back.

“I thought I got away from him.” She sniffled against his shirt. “Thirteen hundred miles away from him. I was so careful—so careful.” She mumbled, hands clinging onto the sides of his shirt. “I don't-I don't know how he found me—unless...”

“Unless?” Sy frowned, still slowly rubbing her back and trying to process what she was telling him. “Sit down.” He said, moving them towards the breakfast table and pulled out a chair for her, before bringing the other one around from the other side to sit beside her.

“Start at the beginning.”

Lily cleared her throat and stared down at her hands, folded in her lap. “I was born and raised in Middleburg, Virginia. You know, that I'm an only child and that my mom died, when I was born. I was raised by my grandparents, because my dad was in and out of my life, before just finally disappearing from it, when I was nineteen.” She explained to him, licking her lips.

“He blamed me for my mom's death.” She added, quietly.

Sy reached out and rested his hand on her thigh, squeezing it gently, and gave her a sweet smile.

“When I was seventeen, I met a boy at church, Jak.” Lily continued to explain to him. “It was the only time I really got to interact with others, my grandparents were strict, homeschooling me and only really letting me out of the house, unless they were with me, which was usually only for church on Sunday.” She fidgeted, shyly. “He was the only boy to show any interest in me, which didn't and did surprise me. The little house on the prairie dresses my grandma made me wear, and the glasses I had back then, you could see the moon through them.” She chuckled, cheeks colored.

Sy smiled back at her, even picturing her as a little girl like that, he still found her beautiful.

“But, Jak didn't care, or at least he didn't say or show he did. I would sneak out at night to meet him in the apple orchard my grandfather grew. It had been in our family since the Revolutionary War, the land was given to my, how many times, great-grandfather as payment for his service in the war.”

“I bet it's beautiful.” Sy commented, warmed at the thought.

“They are, so many of the trees are the original ones that were planted.” She smiled back, picturing the orchard in her mind. “The first one that was ever planted, after he cleared away the land, is still there and yielding, there's a plaque staked by its roots, and people come from all around to see it and the orchard, the Warren Apple.”

Sy rested back in his chair. “Your family owns the Warren Orchard Company? You're one of those Warrens?”

“I am.” She nodded, smiling proudly at that fact, but it vanished.

“Anyway, Jak and I would sneak every moment we could to see each other. He even got a job, during the summer, in the orchard, so we could see each other even more.” She took a deep breath, letting it out softly. “But, a year after we met and started being sweet on each other, my grandparents lodged a missionary for his two year mission in our ward. Jak thought he and I were getting close, that my grandparents had actually brought him to live with us, so he and I could court and marry.”

“He grew jealous and possessive. I was stupid, naive and young, I didn't know what was happening, that he was being abusive, until it was almost far too late.”

“What happened, that caused you to realize it?” Sy asked, tilting his head at her.

“I met Jak in the orchard one night, when I was twenty, the day after the missionary went back home to Michigan, because his two years were up. When I got there, Jak was pacing, already angry. Livid. When he saw me, he started yelling about how he had seen me kissing the missionary, how we practically ate each other's faces on the back porch, while everyone else was in the house, during his farewell party.” She said, glancing out the window behind the breakfast table.

“Of course, I hadn't been. Matt, the Missionary, and I had been on the back porch together, I had gone out there to get away from the press of all the people and he went out there to check on me. We had hugged, only the once, since doing so isn't really acceptable, two not courting, unchaperoned kids. But, we did nothing more, before going back inside. The truth didn't matter to Jak though, he had his version of what he saw and it was unchangeable.” Lily bit her lip and gripped Sy's wrist as his hand still laid on her thigh. “He lost his temper and hit me, but in my love sick stupidity, I didn't break it off there or tell my grandparents about it.”

“Instead, I enrolled in a university for Photography and Web Design, moved out of my grandparents' place and into one with him, like an idiot.”

“You weren't an idiot, Lily.” Sy told her, shaking his head and slipping his hand into hers. “It's more common than you think.”

“I know it is.” She sighed, clinging onto his hand.

“He only got worse and it got harder for me to get my school work done, with him accusing me that I was sleeping with my project partners, even teachers.” She huffed, shaking her head at his allegations, that now sounded so ridiculous. “The straw that broke the camel's back was,” She paused, biting and licking her lips, fighting down a bubble of emotions and memories. “One of my project mates called to ask me about the faux website we were designing for a fake company we had to make up, cause she wanted to know what time was good for us to meet up, and Jak answered the phone, claimed he heard a guy in the background, throwing the phone across the living room and went ballistic, saying I was having her call me to set up a time for me and the guy he heard, to try and fool him.”

“He spent the next hour going to town on me.” She said, glancing up at him, the hint and meaning in her eyes.

“Afterwards, he went to work and I packed a bag. I had some money from the family orchard business, so I took a good portion of it, bought a greyhound bus ticket to a cousin I was close to in New Jersey, Maggie, and stayed with her, knowing he wouldn't find me there, my grandparents wouldn't think I'd go there, and she wouldn't ever rat on me. While I was there, I petitioned for a name change, from Liliana Warren to Lily Ana Moore, and finished my degree, then found this place and moved out here.”

“So, how do you think he found you?” Sy asked, worried about her safety and angry that this asshole had the audacity to hurt her and wanted to try and hurt her again, but he kept a lid on his temper, not wanting to frighten her anymore than she already was.

“I've been keeping tabs on my grandparents, mostly through my cousin.” Lily answered, biting her lip. “She called me a year ago, to tell me that my grandmother had a stroke, a pretty bad stroke at that. She's apparently wheelchair bound now. Maggie went down there to visit them, and my grandfather was talking about how he needed someone to work on the company website, when Maggie let it slip that I have a web design business.”

“Oh.” Sy let out, eyes wide.

“Yeah.” She nodded back. “So, of course, they got upset, understanding that Maggie knew what had happened to me and where I was and all that. She called afterwards, apologizing up and down to me for it. She didn't tell them where I was or anything like that, just that I was safe and fine, and if I wanted to contact them, I would.”

“Did you?”

“I did.” Lily sighed, voice tight. “I figured after four years, I owed them a call.”

“So, do you think they told Jak?”

“I don't know.” She shrugged. “But, a week after I called them, I started getting hang up calls, then calls where no one would say anything for a few minutes, before hanging up. Then, two months ago, I got a call that was different from the others, he said something to me, and a month ago, he said something being soon.”

The wires connected in Sy's brain. “That's what caused you to take all those pills.”

Lily gulped and bit her lip, eyes burning, as she nodded her head. “Ye-ah.” She choked, fear and anxiety starting to mount inside of her again.

“Hey, hey.”

Sy cooed, wrapping his arms around her and pulled her into his lap, hugging her against his chest. “It's all right, Lily. It's going to be all right, I promised to protect you and I will. You are safe with me, you will always be safe with me, whatever the cost.” He whispered in her ear, holding her close and planning ways and means to protect her.

“Sy?” Lily called from the open door of her bedroom, just as Sy stepped out of the hall bathroom, in nothing, but a pair of black boxers.

“Lily?” He replied, rubbing the towel over his head, and looked up at her, lifting a brow, inquisitively.

Lily rested her hand on the handle of her door and stepped sideways, giving a little motion of her head into her room, a soft and offering expression on her face. Sy blinked at her, surprised, then down at Aika, who sat in the doorway of his room, feeling like he was picking what lady to sleep with for the night.

He tilted his head at Aika and gave her a sympathetic expression.

“Sorry, Girl.” He whispered to the Shepherd, turning towards Lily.

Lily chuckled at him, smiling and shaking her head as he passed by her and into her room. “You can come too, Aika.” She called to her, then turned into her room.

“You're cool with this?” Sy asked, eyes motioning to her bed.

“It was my idea, wasn't it?” She smiled at him, then stepped inside her closet for a moment and came back in a t-shirt-like nightie with Mickey Mouse on it, before pulling down the blankets and crawling into bed.

“It was.” He nodded, then laid down with her, covering up.

Lily scooted closer to him and Sy draped his arm over her waist, tucking her against him and she let him lay his head on her chest, stroking his arm. She was comfortable with the warm weight of his body against hers, the clean scent of his skin and hair from his shower. She felt Sy's body slowly melt into hers as he fell asleep, it had been her plan. Lily knew there was a high likelihood of Sy having another episode or nightmare, but figured, if he was there, with her, already safe and comfortable in her arms, he wouldn't have it.

That was her deepest hope, at least.

But, the next thing Lily knew, she was being jerked roughly off the bed and pinned underneath Sy's mountainous weight, his heavy and hot breath puffing against the side of her face as he blanketed her with his body, clearly startled and on high alert. The room lit up with a quick flash of lightning and the furious sound of rain beating on all parts of the house filled the bedroom around them.

“Austin.” She gasped, grasping the back of his arms, nails digging into his sweaty skin, thinking he had been set off by the noise of the sudden storm. “Aust-”

“Ssshhh.” He hushed her, lips brushing her temple, the hairs of his beard tickling her skin. “Stay here.” He whispered into her ear, then moved off of her and out of the room, Aika sitting in the open doorway and growling into the darkness of the hallway after him.

Lily sat up on her elbows, knowing that what was happening couldn't have been from one of Sy's nightmares or the storm, because Aika wouldn't be acting like this, she was angry, like she was daring something Lily couldn't see to try and cross her. But, nothing came, not even Sy, and Lily was starting to get worried. So, getting up, she edged around Aika and tip toed downstairs, jerking at another boom of thunder and crack of lightning, until she found Sy standing in the entryway.

“Austin?” She called out to him, over the sound of the rain, which sounded much louder downstairs.

“I told you to stay upstairs.” He barked, not looking back at her.

“What's wrong?” She asked, knowing there had to be something, by the tone of his voice.

“Nothing, just go back to bed.”

Narrowing her eyes, Lily stepped closer to him and her eyes grew wide, seeing what had caused Sy to wake up and react like he had. The large bay window in the den that faced out onto the porch and the front of the property was smashed, the glitter of the broken glass shined in the lightning strikes and left the outline of the brick amongst them, the cause of the broken window. Lily's eyes snapped out the living room window, expecting to see someone, not just someone, but Jak, to be standing out in the yard, staring back at them. But, there was no one, but her and Sy's cars. Her heart started to race and pound, making her feel dizzy and lightheaded, trembling so hard she almost lost her balance, but caught herself on the back of the couch.

Sy turned and grabbed her, picking her up in his arms and carried her back up to bed. “Stay here.” He ordered her, pointing a stiff finger at her, then went back downstairs.

Going out back, Sy grabbed a large piece of plywood he had bought in preparation for repairing the roof and instead used it to board up the broken window, until the storm passed and morning came, so he could find a piece of glass to replace it, leaving him and the den floor mostly wet. He moped the den floor and laid out nearly every towel Lily had in the house in hopes the old floorboards wouldn't warp under the water damage.

He stepped out onto the porch for a moment, glaring into wet dark. “This is my house now.” He growled, knowing Jak was still out there somewhere nearby. “My girl.” He hissed, before turning back inside, going up to the guest room to change into a dry pair of boxers and joined Lily back in her bed.

“It was him.” She mumbled, hugging her pillow to her chest. “It had to be him.”

Sy sighed softly, locking his arms around her waist and hugged her to his chest, curving his body around hers. He didn't know what to say to her, they both knew it had to be Jak, who else would have thrown a brick through someone's window in the middle of a storm like this one, especially after all the other incidents over the last several months; all the lines drew back to Jak on his unhealthy, possessive rampage to reclaim Lily as his own. Sy was afraid that if he verbalized his agreement with her, it would only inflate her already inflamed fear of the obvious.

So, he just clutched her tighter to him, pressing his lips to her shoulder and squeezing his eyes shut against the bright flashes of lightning.

“Lily, I'm going to go to town, I have something I need to pick up.” He told her, searching the living room for his car keys.

“I thought you already ordered the new windowpane?” Lily called back, appearing out of the kitchen, where she was washing the dishes.

“I did.” He nodded, he had found a shop that he could order a replacement windowpane for the den window that morning, but it wouldn't be ready until the next day. “This is for something else.” He told her, finding his keys under a magazine on the coffee table.

“What are you going for, then, Bear?” She asked, tilting her head at him.

Sy paused and regarded her. “Don't worry about it, Angel. I'll be back in an hour.” He told her, then, went out.

“Okay.” Lily frowned, glancing out the living room window, the thunder and lightning had passed during the early morning, but it was still raining cats and dogs.

Sighing, Lily turned back into the kitchen, taking a bucket and mop out of the utility closet, filled the bucket with warm water and soap, before getting down to mopping the floors, with nothing else to do in the current weather.

Sy rushed out to his truck, but was still almost half soaked by the time he settled himself in the driver's seat. Turning on the car and cranking on the heat, Sy pulled off the property and headed towards Celina. He pulled into the small parking center the small town had, scanning the rain blurred signs, looking for the one he was heading for, before opening the door and rushing towards it, pulling open the door, with an electric ding, announcing his presence.

“How can I help you?” the shop owner asked, coming out of a small room in the back and stopped behind a long glass case.

“Yeah, I'm looking for something specific.” Sy replied, stopping on the other side of the glass case, a look of understanding in both men's eyes.

“What specifics would that be?”

“Taurus, PT111 G2, 9mm.” Sy rattled off with familiar ease.

“Do you have a license and ID?” The store owner asked, eyes scanning the case between them.

“Then, some.” Sy laughed, pulling out his wallet to show the man his qualifications.

“You're a retired Captain.” The man noted, seeing Sy's military ID.

“That I am.” Sy chuckled, grinning with some pride.

The store owner got Sy squared away with the weapon he wanted, a secure case and a couple rounds of ammo, while also chattering about the military, being a retired Staff Sergeant himself. Getting back into his truck, he put the case under the passenger seat, pausing to stare at it for a moment,emotions and thoughts brewing inside of him, then shook them off. Satisfied, Sy went back home to Lily, finding her dusting the living room, when he came in, carrying the case and sat it down on the coffee table.

Lily paused, dust rag poised above the mantelpiece, staring at the case. “Is that what I think it is?” She asked, finally looking up at him.

“If you think it's a gun, then yes.” Sy replied, sitting down on the couch and tugging on the soaked laces of his boots.

“Why,” She gulped, arm dropping to her side. “did you buy a gun and bring it here?”

“Because, I wanted to and as a precaution.” He answered her, yanking his boots off.

“A precaution?”

“There is a fucking asshole out there.” Sy barked, jerking his arm up and finger pointing out the window. “Trying to hurt you.” His finger moved to her, in emphasis. “I am a big man. I'm a strong man. I've killed and subdued more than one man with my bare hands, but a personal cost.” He explained to her, standing and jerking up his shirt, showing her a couple of scars on his sides and chest, some were round and puckered, gunshot wounds, others were stripes, like stab wounds.

“If that prick decides to come into this house, to try and put his hands on you. That,” He pointed down to the gun case. “is going to be the first thing he wants to meet, because if he has to get close enough to me, that I need to put my hands on him, then they will be that last thing he will ever feel.” He told her, chest heaving as he got worked up over the situation.

Lily gulped at him, biting her lip, a flash of fear in her eyes at his passionate words, seeing a vein of rage that Jak had also been capable of.

“I just want to protect you.” He said softly, taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself down; seeing he had scared her.

“I know you do, Austin.” She whimpered back, gulping, eyes shiny. “I know you do.”

Sy moaned, something cold pressing into his neck. “Hm, Lily.” He chuckled, scrunching his head and shoulders together, grinning as the cold and wet touched his bare chest, making him grunt and wiggle away. “Why are you so col-” He started to laugh, opening his eyes, only to meet the soulful and tawny colored eyes of Aika.

“Aika, what are ya doin' here?” He frowned, and sat up, finding it was just him and the German Shepherd in the bed, Lily nowhere in sight. “Lily?” He called out, turning his head towards the master bathroom, but it was empty.

Panic filled Sy as he yanked the blankets back and pounded down the stairs into the living room, then the den. Sy squeezed his eyes shut, taking deep breaths and clenching his hands in and out of fists, trying to keep himself cool and calm, before going into the kitchen, hearing the screen of the back door knocking against the door frame, and found the main back door was ajar.

“What is she doing?” He whispered to himself, biting his lip and looking back, considering the option of going back upstairs and getting the gun, but something in his gut told him he wouldn't need it.

Opening the door, Sy stepped out onto the back porch, a shiver wracking his body as a strong gust of rainy wind rushed by him. He narrowed his eyes, scanning the drenched backyard, the tall, unruly and uncut grass bent from the pelting of the rain and gusts of wind, he caught a quick movement to his left and turned in that direction, stepping off the porch and followed after it, towards the barn, just catching the billowing fabric of Lily's white nightie, vanishing inside.

“Lily, what are you doing in here?” He called out, pushing open the barn door a bit more. “Lily?” He called again, frowning as he crossed the barn and found her huddled in one of the old horse stalls. “What are you doing in here, Angel?” He cooed at her, shaking his head, droplets of rain running down both of their faces, and watched her melt into the corner.

Lily panted, her back pressed against the warped and worn wall behind her, arms pressed to her chest, her nightie so soaked, it was almost see through. Sy bit his lip and gulped, slowly crouching down. He knew what was going on, he had seen and suffered things like this a million times over the last ten plus years. She was having a PTSD episode, running away from the terror that was inside her head, trying to hide and find somewhere safe from it. Everything over the last several months with Jak stalking and harassing her was really starting to affect her, finally breaking her it seemed.

“I'm not going to hurt you, love.” He said softly, keeping his voice soft and low. “Come here.” He gulped, opening his arms to her and biting his lip with apprehension. “It's all right. You know, you can trust me, Sugar.” He whispered, nodding his head as she slowly unfolded herself and crawled over to him.

“Hey, Angel.” Sy cooed, sighing softly, and closed his arms around her, pressing his lips to the top of wet her head. “Ssshh.” He hushed her, rubbing her back and cupping the back of her head, feeling her tears add to the raindrops on his chest.

“I c-can-can't ta-take it an-anymore.” She sobbed, trembling in his arms, overcome with emotions and cold.

“We'll get through this, Angel.” He whispered to her, cupping her chilled cheeks in his hands and tilted her head back to look up at him. “We will get through this. You and I will get through this together. Everything will work out.”

Lily shook her head, her pale lips trembling. “N-no, it wo-won't. He-he always g-gets what h-he wants. All-always.” She mewled, whining. “I don't kn-know why I-I thought I c-could ge-get away.”

Sy's expression was hard for a moment, before he brought their faces together and kissed her, deeply. Lily stiffened against him, taken off guard by his kiss, but she didn't pull away or push him away. Gulping, she shyly returned his kiss, resting her hands on him, feeling the skin of his sides jump and react to her icy touch.

“I've wanted to kiss you.” Sy said, pulling back. “For such a long time.” He admitted, looking into her eyes. “Since that day on the porch, when you woke me up.”

“Since, you gave me your hoodie at the fair.” She whispered back, licking her lips, the warmth of Sy's still lingering on them.

Sy leaned forward, kissing her gently and brushing his fingers through her dripping hair, Lily pushing forward to deepen it for a moment, letting out a breathy whimper. Sy smirked, then looked down at the floor between them, it was still strewn with decades old hay and dirt. He held up a finger and stood, bumping around in the dark barn before a scratching sound sounded among the patter of rain on the metal barn roof. A moment later, a teeny glow filled the space and Sy approached where Lily was still kneeling, holding an old, beat up, oil lantern he knew was in the barn from his many searches of the space, hanging it up on a bent and rusty nail on the stall wall, then disappeared for another moment.

“Stand up.” He said, motioning her out of the stall, holding something in his arms.

Lily frowned at him, but stepping out of the stall and out of his way, catching a glimpse of what it was, it was one of the drop clothes he bought for when he painted the house, keeping the paint off the new porch. Sy unfolded the drop cloth over the dirty hay and stall floor, making sure it was comfortable, then turned back to her.

“How gentlemanly.” Lily complimented him.

“I am a Southern boy.” Sy chuckled, letting his Southern drawl deepen, and wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her against him. “Who's in love with Southern Lady.”

Lily blushed as Sy kissed her again, hugging her against him and up off her feet, turning around and slowly dropped to his knees, gently laying her back on the situated drop cloth. Lily wrapped her arms around Sy's neck, moaning softly against his lips, feeling the fabric of her nightie rub against her cold hardened nipples as Sy moved to kiss down to her neck, sinking his teeth into her delicate skin and let out a loud moan, pushing up against him.

“Austin!” She cried out, pressing her cheek to his ear as he continued to bite and suck on her neck, his beard tickling and rubbing against the skin underneath her jaw, leaving it red and sensitive.

Sy chuckled, loving the sound of her calling out his name with the metal patter of rain, his hand gliding over the soaked material of her nightie, bunching and hiking it up out of his way, pressing his palm against her side, rubbing his big hands all over her exposed body, grunting and growling into her neck, like a wild grizzly bear, finally getting his claws on his prized catch. His big mitts were on her plump breasts almost instantly, squeezing and kneading them, rubbing the rough pads of his thumbs over the sensitive nubs of her nipples, making her moan and whimper, fidgeting beneath him and rubbing her legs together, adding to the growing slickness between them.

“You sound so sweet.” Sy moaned back, pulling away from her neck, a set of dark teeth marks left behind, dipping his head for a moment to swirl his tongue around one of her nipples.

“Sy.” She whined, gulping down a moan. “Sy, please.”

“Oh.” He smiled, impishly. “You like that?” He asked, flicking her erect nipple with the tip of his tongue and watched her partially melt. “Your sweet, sensitive, little buds.” He cooed, then closed his lips around one of them, suckling gently, rubbing and rolling his tongue against it.

“Ah, shit!” Lily gasped, gripping his shoulders, eyes rolling and fluttering back into her head, heels digging into the fabric of the drop cloth. “God damn it, Austin.” She snapped, pressing her palms to the back of his head, holding his mouth to her breasts, her moans and whimpers filled the barn, pushing against him, egging and begging him to keep going, her breathing growing rugged and labored, moans becoming more urgent and reckless.

“Ah, fuck fuck fuck.” She cried out. “Suck them harder.” She coaxed and demanded. “Oh shit! Please, Austin!!” She gasped suddenly, body going rigid with a soft tremor.

Sy pulled away from her and dripped a hand between her trembling thighs, finding an extremely wet patch there. “So, you come, when you get your pretty breasts sucked.” He grinned, fully turned on and impressed, licking her juices off his fingers and palm.

“I've also never heard you say such naughty words.” He added, teasingly.

Lily chuckled, slowly recovering and smiling shyly up at him.

“Oh, it's too late to get shy now, Angel.” Sy laughed, leaning down and kissed the corner of her mouth. “Your secret is out.” He continued to tease her, playfully bouncing her boobs in his palms.

“And, I'm not letting you off.”

“I'm going to regret this, I can just feel it now.” Lily huffed, shaking her head, but her smile gave away her true feelings.

“Yes, you are.”

Sy chuckled, his hand dipping back between her legs, rubbing her still dripping folds with his calloused fingers, melting her into a puddle of weak and vulnerable whimpers. “You're so sensitive and sound so sweet.” He cooed at her, licking his lips and watching her face. “So, so sweet.” He panted, mouth slightly ajar, slipping his free hand into his damp boxers, curling his fingers around his thick and rock hard shaft, giving it a few shallow strokes.

Lily's eyes drifted down the length of her sweaty body, watching Sy work his cock inside his underwear and felt herself shiver in want and anticipation of it. She licked her lips and looked up at him, their eyes in a silent communication of what they both wanted. Sy shifted, yanking off his boxers to kneel between Lily's legs, wrapping them around his waist, her hips and bottom resting atop his thighs, with the small of her back lifted off the drop cloth beneath her.

“You're sure?” Sy panted, gulping thickly and already breaking out into a sweat, staring at her with wide eyes and blown out pupils.

“Yes.” Lily sighed, nodding her head vigorously at him. “God, yes.” She moaned, squeezing her legs around his waist.

Sy smirked, pressed a hand to her hip, pushing it up her side to palm one of her breasts, squeezing and rubbing it, while taking the base of his cock in his other hand, pumping it a few times, rubbing the fat and cut tip against her still wet pussy, slowly slipping between her folds, brushing her entrance and pushing inside. Lily let out a moaning sigh through her nose, feeling his wide girth stretch her open far more than she had ever been before. Her toes curled and squeezed his hips between her calves and thighs, back arching and hips shifting against the nearly uncomfortable burn of his length being buried ever deeper inside her core. Sy tilted his head at her, bracing a hand on the drop cloth, beside her head, and leaned over her, causing Lily to let out a raspy gasp as his cock changed angles inside of her, and kissed her, slow and passionately, still pushing his hips into her.

“You are so beautiful.” He rasped against her lips, nibbling on her pouty bottom lip.

“Austin.” She whimpered back, breathy, hooking her arms under his arms and pressing her palms flat against tense and sweaty back, nails digging into his cool skin. “Austin.” She chanted, softly, rubbing her nose against his.

“Lily.” Sy moaned back, finally flush inside of her, and rocked into her, taking his time and enjoying her heavenly warmth wrapped around his cock, like a toasty sleeve. “I love you, Lily.” He whispered into her ear, kissing her jaw and cheek.

Lily blushed and let out an airy chuckle, hiding her face in his neck and broad shoulder, hugging her arms and legs tighter around his body, clinging onto him for dear life and squeezed her eyes shut, taking in the sound of Sy's heavy breathing and loud moans and groans, grunting, and sighing out her name, the still steady pitter-patter of the fat raindrops on the old, rusted tin roof and sun-kissed wood walls, all mixed with her own sounds of pleasure.

“Sy?” Lily whispered, after their shared climax, still feeling the euphoric and relaxing pleasure it gave both of them, as she laid on the drop cloth, half tucked underneath Sy's body for warmth in the drafty barn.

“Hm?” He hummed back, nosing her hair and took a deep breath.

Lily smiled, feeling the vibration in his chest, nuzzling back into him. “I love you too, Austin.” She whispered, turned her head to look back at him.

Sy lifted his head and looked down at her, a smile slowly pulling across his lips, an excited and giddy feeling in the pit of his stomach, reaching out to gently brush her hair out of her face, picking out a few bits of straw that happened to get stuck in it from earlier; before oh-so-tenderly kissing her.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me, Angel.” He murmured against her cheek.

“I'm guessing as happy as it makes me, Bear.” She chuckled back, kissing the tip of his nose.

Lily softly stirred just before dawn, cradled in Sy's arms as he carried her out of the barn, the rain finally letting up, and into the house. He carried her upstairs to her room and gently laid her down on her bed, letting him help her out of her still damp nightie and tossed it through the open door of her master bathroom, before crawling into bed with her.

Both of them were out cold before the blankets settled around them, unaware of the audience they had a good deal of the night.

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lovely-jily · 4 years ago

Text

the curse of a wet dream

Warning: very immediate and graphic smut

James let out a groan as she gasped at her undoing, their naked and sweaty bodies still connected as he was close to reaching his end too. Lily reached up to him and kissed him feverishly, rolling them over, so she sat on top of him.

“Your turn,” She pulled away from his lips, pulling hers up to smirk devilishly as she began to rock back and forth on top of him slowly.

“How are we feeling?” She whispered in his ear, fingers grabbing and pulling at his hair. Her lips found their way to his ear, kissing and nibbling as her hips continued to rock and forth.

James let out another heavy exhale, grasping firmly at her waist and pulling at her hair.

“I’m sure that you're about to find out,” He could barely choke the words out as she increased speed. She giggled in his ear, tugging at his shoulders while his hand moved to her breast. He was close, breathing heavier and heavier as she moved faster and faster.

He traced his thumb over her nipples, causing Lily to let out a heavy exhale, releasing her head back, “Good, James.”

That was it. The build-up, the sound of his name leaving her lips like that, the feeling of her around him. He watched her as he got closer and closer and closer-

He let out a groan as he abruptly woke up. To James’s disappointment, he had orgasmed alone in his bed.

“Oh, fuck me.”

The next day, James tried his absolute hardest to avoid Lily Evans. There was no way he could act remotely normal because it felt like he had seen her naked not even 18 hours earlier. He had done pretty well all day, thankful that they only had one class together on Thursday’s (that he obviously had no choice but to skip).

He had made it all the way up to the end of Quidditch practice (which he purposely ended extra late tonight) when he decided to drop off some paperwork in the Heads office. It was well past 11:00, so imagine his shock when he found Lily hunched over the desk. Her hair was tied messily on top of her head and her uniform was not at all as tidy as she usually kept it. She had her sleeves rolled up, tie undone and on the desk, the top few buttons of her shirt were unbuttonedjust enough to taunt him as if they knew that he was craving what lied not even centimetres beneath them.

“James!” Her eyes lit up when they met his, causing himto fight against a memory of how they looked into his while she rode him.

He swallowed, trying to steady his breathing as he thought of the way he heard his name last night. He struggled to think of a subtle way to adjust his annoyingly active sex organ (which never failed to reflect just how excited James was).

“Er- Hey, Evans, I assumed that you'd be in bed by now.”

She smiled softly, bringing her eyes to her stack of parchment below her, “No, just about. I just needed to finish the month's reports.”

James could only give a slight nod, not thinking about the reports at all. Why was he here again?

“Is everything alright, James?”

There it was again. The sound of his name softly leaving her lips, tearing away at his poor ability to keep composure. He was quite honestly not alright. In fact, he was anything but.

“Everything’s just delightful,” He cleared his throat and forced a smile which he hoped looked like his normal one. He realised that he was holding his broom so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.

She tilted her head, not hiding a quizzical look as she leaned against her hands, “I think I know what's going on.”

‘Fuck.’ He thought.

“Oh?” He said instead.

“You shouldn't be nervous for the match on Saturday,” She said, her expression softening as she smiled. James tried to ignore the warming of his heart at the innocence of her assuming that these were just pre-Quidditch nerves.

“From what I hear, Hufflepuff is absolute garbage, and Marlene says you guys are excellent this year- no thanks to you as captain.”

His chest warmed even more with the flattery as he ignored the way that her fingers, fingers that had seemed to be touching him last night, traced the top of the desk in small circles.

“Yeah, well,” He shook his head, forcing himself to focus on what was present in the current reality before him, “You can never be too prepared. A little nerves are good for you.”

She nodded, sitting up and placing her hands on her hips, “Well, I’m sure avoiding your Head Girl all the day isn't good for you.”

He let out a nervous laugh, looking down to avoid the intense eye contact that she liked to make in confrontation.

“So you noticed?”

She rolled her eyes, “You got up and left when I sat by everyone at lunch and dinner today, not to mention that you also skipped Transfiguration, which you never do because you love it. What's going on?”

‘I had a brilliant sex dream about you last night,” He thought.

“I promise I’m not avoiding you,” He said instead.

She shot him a look of disbelief.

He let out a genuine chuckle, “Evans, I couldn't stay away from you if I tried.”

“True,” She smiled, not knowing how true it honestly was.

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spiltscribbles · 4 years ago

Note

57. “Wait a second.. are you jealous?” + Poorly Timed Confession + modern au 😍 pretty please!!!

~Notes: OMFG angel!!! Thank you SO SO much for the prompt<3 You are a complete babe! I hope you like :S It’s cheese, but like also what else would I do? LMFAO XD

Smash Prompt Game | Send Me A Prompt💜 | A Reblog Is Like An I Love You!!

“Hmmm… All right, would you rather, mmm… Smell Borris Johnson’s sweaty gym socks, or snog Professor Slughorn full on the mouth for a straight minute— oh erm, not so straight I reckon on second thought.”

Remus wrinkles his nose at him from across the bed, and clucks his tongue at the awful pun. “You’re unruly.”

“And you’re dodging,”

“Am not arse, I’m just recovering from that very terrifying scenario you’ve spewed out like the sadistic satanist you are.”

“Which scenario are you recovering from though?” Sirius leers, wiggling his eyebrows and jostling Remus’s textbook with his foot.

“I hate that you’re enjoying this so much,” Remus intones in a deadpan.

“Mary John, I’m waiting,” Sirius says with far too much glee.

Sometimes Remus is sure that he hates him. “Fine, the answer is I hate you.”

“Filthy and slanderous lies, Lupin.”

“You’re demented.”

“Five. Four. Three—“

“I won’t choose.”

“See, all I hear is that you wanna get it on with our chemistry professor, you saucy minx, you.”

Remus sniffs. “Better than touching that prick with even a ten foot pole.”

“Mmmm, have I ever told you how hot and heavy I get hearing you talk politics at me?”

Remus throws him the bird, which makes Sirius laugh. Remus can objectively say that Sirius has the most beautiful variations of laughter in the world, and he’d know considering he’s catalogued each one. This version is definitely top three. His care free, effortless laugh when Remus takes him off guard with a snide remark or lowly muttered retort that’s not appropriate for most company— It’s really more of a experience, truly. His breaths stutter out in a lovely staccato, and his eyes glimmer like the sea, and sometimes it feels like the world’s been suspended and it’s only the two of them in that slice of eternity.

Erm, Ah, but yeah…. That only happens occasionally, and it’s only because Sirius is Remus’s greatest friend— has been since the final year of primary school after Remus had moved to the London outskirts from his small, coastal town in Wales, and on first sight, Sirius swung a snowball straight to Remus’s face, which he of course responded to by throwing two more his way, and well… The pair of them were soaking and breathless by the end of it, but their fate was sealed, they were the greatest of friends, and nothing would ever alter that unquestionable staple.

So what if sometimes Remus’s chest thuds painfully when Sirius dimples his way, or Remus only ever wants to talk to him over anyone else— even Lily or his Mam— if he’s had a bad day, or good one, or if something remarkable had happened, or , or… Or whenever really. And there’s absolutely no significance that Remus can’t help the totally delighted grin that splits his face in half whenever he gets a text or snap from Sirius.

None of that is at all relevant.

Sirius is Remus’s greatest friend, and he’d never risk ruining that by allowing some pesky little crush swallow him whole and clammer out his mouth— vulnerable and throbbing in the open space between them. It doesn’t matter if Marlene always makes kissy faces their way, or how James only ever refers to them as a couple, and so what if Peter’s got a pole running that Remus knows basically the whole school is betting on.

They’re all wrong, Sirius would never, ever feel the same sort of way that Remus does him, that’s downright preposterous and ridiculous and just simply impossible. And Remus’s perfectly content with that very real truth… He is.

Remus is fine with it God help him. So everyone else just needs to but the fuck out of their business.

Besides, this, this right now— Him and Sirius splayed out on opposite ends of Remus’s bed, with Sirius’s feet nudging at Remus’s elbow whenever he’s got a question about there homework, with the window cracked open just so, letting in some of the chilly winter air because Sirius absolutely can not focus if he’s not cold— the fucking furnace— Where Remus can still hear the going ons of his family playing out on the floor below them… This is the most perfect place in Remus’s eyes, and he won’t ever change that, especially not to live out some boyhood fantasy that would never come into fruition in his wildest of dreams.

Remus’s content… He is… He has to be or else he’d lose one of the most vital people in his world.

“You’ve got footie practice after school, right?”

“Mmhmm, you coming to watch?”

“Only if you admit i’m your good luck charm,” Remus sardonically bats his lashes at Sirius as if he was in a mascara advert, and the taller boy blows a raspberry right back at him.

“Nice, real nice. You’re extraordinarily mature, you know that, Black?”

“And sexy, don’t forget that, oh so important descriptor Lupin.”

Remus leans against the locker besides Sirius’s, watches as he trades his current binders for the lot he’ll need for the afternoon, and tries really hard not to stare too longingly at how Sirius’s arm muscles ripple beneath their school’s maroon, uniform jackets in the most delicious of ways. (He hates the fact he’s been dissolved into a starry eyed mess lusting over the star striker, but thus is his fate.)

“I’d never commit such a faux pas, and I’m insulted that you’d ever think as much.”

Sirius sneers at him with a slight shake to his head. “So you coming or not?”

“I’m still contemplating my options,” he preens, but before Sirius could retort, Marlene, megawatt smile and dangerously sharp smirk— swaggers over towards them.

“Good morning my two beautiful chums!”

“What do you want?” Sirius asks before even glancing her way, to which Marlene blinks up at him, faux owlish. “S, I just wanted to greet a couple of my closest companions this lovely December morning,” she defends herself.

“Marls, you’re never this agreeable before noon,” Remus points out hesitantly.

“ And you rarely are even afterwards,” Sirius tacks on.

“Rude,” she pouts.

“Accurate,” Remus pipes in with an apologetic grimace.

Marlene stares them both down for a solid minute before finally relaxing her shoulders, and thrusting out the legal pad in her grasp. “The student council and spirit society are selling corsages for the snowflake formal, and Dorcas has deployed me to get some orders.”

“Whipped,” Sirius teases through a counter-fit cough.

Marlene doesn’t hesitate before smashing the legal pad on his head. “And you traipsing around getting people to buy the tickets for the theatre department last semester even though Re was only playing Mercutio wasn’t you being wrapped around his littlest finger?”

Remus flushes, feeling an unnerving amount of bees stinging around his stomach, and is thankful when the conversation pauses after Sirius casts her a very heated V. “Sod off.”

“So are you guys gonna buy or not?” Marlene huffs, weight slung to her left hip, and arms crossed against her chest.

“I’m a gay bloke, Marls, did you forget that?” Remus pins her with a one eyed squint, and she just scrunches her face up at him, exasperated.

“I’m sure there’s matching boutonnieres.”

“Fine, I just don’t have any school spirit then.”

This time she glares. “Lily and James are Head Boy and Head Girl, isn’t there like an oath between you lot, one for all and all for one, or some rot?”

“That’s the three musketeers,” he says.

“isn’t that basically who you guys are?” She reasons.

Before their wage of words could continue, Sirius just grabs the order form out of Marlene’s hands and fills out a sheet with the flurry of his pen. “Happy?”

“Positively delighted,” she leers, pecking them both on the cheek before strutting off, reminding them of their group study session at Alice’s tonight in her wake.

Sirius shakes his head, reluctantly amused with a grin gathering on the corners of his mouth, but for Remus everything feels like it’s frozen. “You didn’t have to do that you know? ’S not like James is much of a Head Boy anyhow, and Lily wouldn’t have really cared.”

Sirius shrugs, commences their walk to the opposite wing of the school for their shared history class. “Emmy likes that sort of romantical shite.”

Remus sees red, feels his heart lodging in his damn esophagus. “Oh, so— Erm, you’re taking her then,” Remus wonders if his tone sounds as detached as he feels.

“Yeah,” Sirius eyes him, questioning. “She wants that title of snow queen real bad, made me promise I’d campaign with her and the whole shtick.”

“Oh,” it’s like Remus could feel it when he closes off completely, can feel his hopes squashed down and his heart contract and his every organ collapsing in on themselves, leaving him feeling hollowed out completely.

Sirius slows down marginally, eyeing him with a slight frown. “Is that all right? I know you two don’t exactly get along and we were planning to go as a group, bu—“

“It’s fine,” Remus hates how screechy his voice gets, how he feels like he’s about to scream. “You two are a shoe in, no doubt.”

Sirius tries to mirror Remus’s faux excitement with a tepid grin of his own, but Remus doesn’t let him, instead commandeering their typical table on the back row and tries focussing on the thousandth war with France while his world tilts off kilter.

Emmy is beautiful, and popular and her smile alone dazzles the whole room. She’s everything that Sirius should look for in a partner, someone to match his whip lash wit, and his taste for all things exuberant that skirt on flashy, and someone who’s got just as many friends and admirers as him.

They’re perfect and Remus should just get over his petty ass hatred of her, even if he still thinks she can be down right cruel and selective and selfish. Qualities Sirius surely isn’t… But maybe it’s all in his head how she sneers at people who she finds plane, or how she literally guffaws over the misfortune of others. Maybe his perception of how she wields people in like moths to a flame just to get what she wants is all a misunderstanding, or in his head or something.

Maybe all that’s possible, even if Remus seriously doubts it.

But at the end of the day, Sirius loves her— has been basically infatuated by Emmeline Vance since she first transferred at the start of their Freshman year. Sirius loves her, and who ever Sirius loves is merely an extension of him… Right?

Remus just needs to get over it and somehow rid himself of this crush he’s been fostering for so long it’s basically a part of him at this point. Though, he thinks it’d be a lot easier if he didn’t see their faces plastered on posters everywhere the week and a half leading up to the dance— looking like actual royals that would put Will and cate to shame.

“Yo cheekbones!”

Remus starts, swivels around from where he was scratching his pen to paper, finding Sirius— as glimmering and beautiful as always— swaggering up to him, insanely electric smile painted over his face.

“Would you rather eat a jumbo jar of jalapeños without a break, or eat the toenails from someone with athlete’s foot next to your dinner every night of the rest of your life?”

“I thought you were having lunch with Emmy to keep up your royalty status before this weekend?” Remus asks, tacitly side stepping from the horrific images swimming to the forefront of his mind because of his cruel question.

“Now that doesn’t sound like an answer to my ultimatum,” Sirius says in a singsong sort of voice.

“You answer me first,” Remus says airily.

“But I asked first,” Sirius argues haughtily.

“Well both your options would kill me, so I wouldn’t do either,” Remus retorts.

“That’s not how the game works!”

“You’re the one who always says that rules were made to be broken,” Remus says, lofty as all get out,, and dissolves into laughter at the completely cross look Sirius’s giving him.

“You were born to be contrary, weren’t you?”

“So lunch?”

“Got bored,” he shrugs, hopping onto the corner of the desk Remus’s working on. “What you up to instead of eating?”

“My position paper for Model UN.” Sirius smiles down at him, and Remus can’t help the flush that spreads across his cheeks in return. “Not as glamorous as running as Snow King, I know.”

“It’s precious,” Sirius contends, his soft timbre sounding like syrup and his long fingers fluttering against Remus’s skin, pushing back a lock of his ever disheveled, tawny curls in a far to gentle way, and Remus gulps before averting his gaze to break the sudden tautness that’s built between them.

They’ve had so many of these almost moments, ones that Remus’s always treasured but he knows doesn’t mean much of anything at all to Sirius— Sirius who is effortlessly hilarious, and brims with genius and who is so beautiful that sometimes it hurts looking at him for too long. Sirius who has a new suitor at his beck and call on a near weekly basis. But whenever they transpire now, it just hurts all the more because Remus knows in his heart of hearts that they will never lead anywhere, and Sirius is in love with Emmy and Remus can’t let himself float around in this daydream for any longer.

“Ahem,” he clears his throat, shuffles in his seat only slightly. “I’m Algeria so my Mam’s pretty excited about it. She’s been telling me all the stuff Wikipedia’s got wrong and everything.”

Sirius laughs, but it doesn’t touch his eyes. “Your mother is kinda everything, you know that?”

Remus twists his mouth up, reluctant. “Don’t tell her as much, or else she’ll go on and on how she won Miss Teen Great Britain when she was only sixteen.”

“Hmm, I was wondering where you got that pretty face.”

��You, Sirius Black, can go lick an unwashed arse.”

“You’ll never catch a suitor with that cheek of yours though. I’d work on that, Lupin.”

“I don’t think I could ever win Miss Congeniality, alas.” Remus doesn’t quite catch Sirius’s reply, to busy responding too the text his phone just chirped with instead.

“Mary John, are you listening?”

“Uh-huh.”

Sirius’s brows hike up, flabbergasted smile stretched across his face. “So totally rude! And I came all the way here— to the place where dreamers die— just to spend time with you.”

“Sorry,” Remus gives him an abashed little half grin before setting the phone back down. “’s just Fabian.”

Sirius’s expression drops, goes inquisitive instead of his typical ebullience. “Fabian? Why’s Fabian Prewett texting you, and why is he,” Sirius crooks his head so he’s able to read the new message that popped up on Remus’s phone’s screen. “Asking about color coordination?”

Remus blushes for an entirely new reason now, one he likes much less. “Ah, he’s the sort to like it when our suits like match, but not in an abrasive fashion, you know?”

Sirius’s face goes scarily blank.

“Your suits? Suits for what?”

“The dance…” Remus says slowly, he’s confused what Sirius’s confused about.

“The dance… Right… I thought you were still going with everyone else?”

“Pff, no way,” Remus scoffs. “Lily’s only pretending to be single, you know how red in the face she gets whenever around James. They’ll end up dancing the whole night away. And with Dorcas running the whole event and Benjy thinking any social function is a plague on society, that’d leave me stuck with Peter and Mary, . And honestly I’ve seen enough of her tongue shoved down his throat for a lifetime.” Remus is only slightly surprised that doesn’t even elicit a chuckle from Sirius, who’s now looking a bit stormy— and he thinks he’ll never be accustomed to his mercurial moods that can change as quickly as the snap of the finger.

“Right… So you’re going with Fabian Prewett… as your date?”

“Yes… Why is that so hard to believe?”

“it’s, it’s not,” Sirius scrambles, suddenly standing up.

“Then why are you being so weird about this,” Remus argues, getting up to meet him at his level.

“Am not!”

“You’re going with Emmy,” Remus reminds him, this edge of desperate.

“I know I am, okay. But you— you—“ Sirius tappers off, eyes glassy and lips parted with words he can’t get out, and Jesus fucking Christ is it weird how for the first time ever their roles have reversed. Sirius can’t put any sentences together, and everything Remus’s been beating down— everything thrashing inside of him— are now burning his throat and warring over who can spill out first.

“What? I’m suppose to stay behind like the pathetic, nobody friend. The guy who’s just there to moon after you while you have an actual life. The Judie garland to your Mickie Roomie!”

“What are you even talking about right now!” Sirius shouts, sounding as torn apart as Remus feels.

“As if you don’t know!” He snarls, collecting his books into his backpack— Suddenly this room feels to stifling. He can’t breathe and it’s too hot and his chest is pounding.

He’s imploding and Remus has no idea how to rectify it.

“Just stop! Remus Stop!”

“leave me the fuck alone Sirius!”

“Why are you being such a prick about this!”

And that, that makes Remus angry, angrier than he’s ever been.

Before he could even think about it for a moment longer, Remus is rounding on him, dashing so close to Sirius that he can taste his breath with how close their faces are skirting against each other.

“I’m in love with you! I’ve been in love with you for forever, and I know that you don’t feel the same way, and I know that you’re in love with Emmy and, and I just know okay.”

“Wha—“ Sirius sputters, looking like a gaping fish. “Wait a second, are you jealous? Of sodding Emmy Vance?”

“Don’t!” Remus practically growls out. "Don’t disrespect me, okay? Don’t pretend that you never knew, or that I was such a good actor. I’ve been in love with you for years and you always knew and Fine, I get it. You never felt the same way, that’s fine. But just don’t pretend as if you never had the choice, don’t make me out as the bad guy for actually, finally saying yes to a bloke who’s actually into me. I need to fucking give up on the premise of us, I need to get over you. So I’m going out with fucking Fabian Prewett and you’re going out with Emmy Vance and that’s that!”

His breaths are labored, jagged and painful, as they race out of him, but Remus can’t move. He’s staring straight into Sirius’s beautiful, gray eyes, and he sees everything he’s always seen there, and hates that this is probably the last time he’ll get to be this close to him.

Not after this.

“I didn’t,” is the first thing Sirius croaks out, broken and helpless. “i didn’t know, Remus you have to believe me— I didn’t—”

“How! How could you not know!” He shouts back, but Remus doesn’t get his answer in so many words, instead he feels it.

He feels it when Sirius clamps his hands on either end of his waste-line, feels it when Sirius smashes their lips together in a cacophony of lips, and teeth and spit. He feels it when Sirius moans in side of him, when his hand moves down, spreads across the width of the small of his back, pushing their torsos even closer. Remus feels it when everything goes into focus, when he takes Sirius into his arms, greedy and excited and disbelieving.

And Remus thinks to all the other times he’s kissed another boy— To this prior weekend swapping snogs with a beaming Fabian in the back of a theatre. He thinks of how there was never anything worth anything when he kissed any of them Because it was all Sirius, always Sirius. And he could try to love Fabian, or some other cute boy, and he tried, and he tried, and he tried, and he gave all he had…but it was never enough, could it ever be enough?

Remus knows it in his bones that it’s enough when it’s with Sirius.

When they finally pull apart it’s difficult to breathe and Remus feels lightheaded and it’s wonderful in the most marvelous of ways.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Sirius says in a whisper.

“Maybe next time give a guy some warning?” Remus can’t help the shit eating smirk that swipes across his mouth and is elated at the adorably cross scowl Sirius answers him with.

“Fine jackass, how’s this for a warning, I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“That’ll be sufficient, I suppose,” Remus goads, laughing against Sirius’s lips when he does just that.

~*~

Sirius ends up winning snow king, but rejects the dance with Emmy, opts to ask Remus to join him instead, as if they were in the middle of some John Hughes movie from the fucking 80s.

It’s utterly ridiculous and overdone and simply way too much— but everyone applauded and cheered and when Sirius kissed him in the middle of it, Remus felt as if his whole body sung with joy.

~My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist

#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #SIRIUSXREMUS #REMUSXSIRIUS #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #MARAUDERS #HARRY POTTER SERIES #SPILT INK #PROMPTS #I love you endlessly #!!!!

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