#trying to tell them how much he loves them and wants to spend time with them

[elryuse]

ANTHEM pt.3

MULTIPLE FEMALE IDOLS X MALE READER

TAGS : MULTIPLE FEMALE LOVE INTEREST, HAREM, KISSING

WORDS : 3,981 Words

This is Part 3 of The Anthem Series. For The Other Anthem Series, Please Kindly Check over Here.

Y/n stretched lazily in his bed, the cold morning air nipping at his exposed skin. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the heater struggling to keep up with the winter chill. He blinked away the remnants of sleep, turning his head slightly to find Wonyoung nestled close beside him, her face peaceful and serene. She was wearing her signature oversized black t-shirt, the fabric pooling around her delicate frame. Her dark hair fanned out across the pillow, catching the faint light streaming through the curtains.

She looks like a princess, Y/n thought, his heart softening as he watched her. He didn’t want to disturb her, but he knew they couldn’t stay like this forever. Carefully, he shifted the blanket that covered them both, lifting it slowly so as not to wake her.

But Wonyoung stirred almost immediately, her eyes fluttering open. She blinked up at him, her lips forming a pout before she even fully registered what was happening. “Why are you leaving me?” she complained, her voice thick with sleep but tinged with mock indignation.

Y/n chuckled softly, reaching over to ruffle her hair. “Good morning to you too,” he said, earning a small groan from her as she swatted his hand away half-heartedly.

“Don’t mess up my hair,” she grumbled, though her pout softened into a smile. She rolled onto her back, stretching her arms above her head, the hem of her shirt riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of smooth skin. Y/n’s eyes lingered a moment too long, and when Wonyoung caught him staring, her grin turned mischievous.

“What’s wrong, oppa? Never seen a girl wake up before?” she teased, propping herself up on one elbow. Her voice was light, playful, but there was something underneath it—something that made Y/n’s stomach tighten.

He cleared his throat, trying to play it cool. “You should head back to your room. Yujin’s probably wondering where you are.”

Wonyoung shook her head, her expression stubborn. “No. I like it here. Your bed is warmer than mine.” She scooted closer to him, her body heat radiating against his side. “And you’re warmer too,” she added, her voice dropping to a whisper.

Y/n sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Wonyoung, you know we can’t—”

“Can’t what?” she interrupted, tilting her head innocently. “It’s not like anyone will notice. Everyone’s still asleep.”

Yeji’s probably already awake, Y/n thought but didn’t say. He didn’t want to argue with her, especially not when she was looking at him like that—her big doe eyes filled with a mix of innocence and something far more dangerous.

“Fine,” he conceded, leaning back against the pillows. “But only for a little while.”

Wonyoung smiled triumphantly, settling back down beside him. She tucked her head against his shoulder, her breath warm against his neck. For a moment, they lay there in silence, the rhythm of their breathing syncing naturally. But then Wonyoung shifted slightly, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest through his thin t-shirt.

“Oppa,” she murmured after a while, her voice barely audible. “Do you ever think about… us?”

Y/n froze, his heart skipping a beat. “Us?” he repeated, his voice cautious.

Wonyoung pulled back slightly to look at him, her expression serious now. “Yeah. You know… how we spend so much time together. How I always end up in your bed. Don’t you think that means something?”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and unspoken. Y/n opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Wonyoung leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear. “I think you like having me here,” she whispered, her breath sending shivers down his spine. “Maybe even more than you want to admit.”

Y/n swallowed hard, his mind racing. He wanted to deny it, to tell her she was just imagining things. But the truth was, he did like having her there. More than he should. And the way she was looking at him now, her eyes dark with something he couldn’t quite name, made it impossible to think clearly.

“Wonyoung…” he began, but she cut him off again, this time by pressing her lips to his in a soft, tentative kiss. His brain short-circuited, his hands moving instinctively to her waist as he kissed her back. It was brief, chaste even, but it left his heart pounding.

When she pulled away, her cheeks were flushed, but her smile was triumphant. “See?” she said, her voice smug. “You do like me.”

Y/n groaned, running a hand over his face. “This is such a bad idea,” he muttered, though he made no move to push her away.

Wonyoung giggled, her fingers trailing down his arm. “Since when have we ever had good ideas?” she countered, her tone light but her gaze intense. “Besides, I promise I won’t tell anyone. Not even Yujin.”

The mention of Yujin made Y/n’s stomach twist. He knew he was playing with fire, but the way Wonyoung was looking at him—like he was the only thing that mattered—made it impossible to care.

Before he could stop himself, he cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he said quietly, leaning in to kiss her again.

This time, there was nothing soft or tentative about it. Wonyoung responded eagerly, her hands tangling in his hair as she deepened the kiss. Y/n’s grip on her waist tightened, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. Every rational thought fled his mind, replaced by the overwhelming need to touch her, to feel her, to lose himself in her.

Their kisses grew more desperate, more urgent, until Wonyoung finally pulled back, panting slightly. Her eyes were dark with desire, her lips swollen and glistening. “Oppa,” she breathed, her voice trembling. “I want you.”

The words sent a jolt of electricity through him, his resolve crumbling completely. He didn’t speak, didn’t trust himself to form coherent thoughts anymore. Instead, he leaned in again, capturing her lips in another searing kiss as his hands roamed lower, exploring every inch of her soft, warm skin.

Wonyoung gasped, arching into his touch. “Y/n,” she whispered against his mouth, her voice breaking on his name. “Please…”

He didn’t need to be told twice. With a low growl, he flipped them over, pinning her beneath him as his kisses trailed down her neck to the collar of her oversized shirt. Wonyoung let out a soft moan, her nails digging into his shoulders as he tugged the fabric aside, exposing more of her bare skin.

But just as his lips brushed against her collarbone, a sharp knock on the door shattered the moment. They froze, their breaths coming in ragged gasps as they stared at each other, wide-eyed.

“Y/n?” Yujin’s voice called from the other side of the door, sounding way too cheerful for the situation. “Are you awake? We need to talk about practice today!”

Y/n swore under his breath, pulling away from Wonyoung reluctantly. “One second!” he called back, his voice strained.

Wonyoung bit her lip, trying to stifle a laugh as she sat up, fixing her shirt. “Well, that’s unfortunate timing,” she whispered, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Y/n shot her a glare, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the flush staining his cheeks. “You need to hide,” he hissed, gesturing toward the closet.

Wonyoung rolled her eyes but complied, slipping out of bed and padding silently across the room. She paused at the closet door, glancing back at him with a smirk. “We’re not done, oppa,” she said softly before disappearing inside.

Y/n took a deep breath, trying to compose himself before opening the door. Yujin stood there, grinning broadly, completely oblivious to what she’d just interrupted.

“Morning, sleepyhead!” she chirped, stepping past him into the room. “I brought coffee. Thought you might need it after last night.”

As she set the tray down on his desk, Y/n glanced nervously at the closet, wondering how long Wonyoung would be able to stay hidden—and what fresh chaos was waiting to unfold.

Yujin’s cheerful expression faltered as she stepped further into the room, her nose wrinkling slightly. She tilted her head, sniffing the air like a curious kitten. “Hmm… what’s that smell?” she mused, her voice light but carrying an edge of suspicion. Her gaze flicked around the room before landing on Y/n, who was standing stiffly by the door, trying to act natural.

“What smell?” Y/n asked, his voice a little too high-pitched. He cleared his throat, crossing his arms casually over his chest, though his heart was pounding. She couldn’t possibly know, he thought, even as beads of sweat threatened to form at his temples.

Yujin wandered closer to him, her eyes narrowing playfully but with a hint of something sharper beneath the surface. She leaned in, sniffing dramatically near his shoulder. “It smells like… Wonyoung’s perfume. The one she always wears.” She straightened up, hands on her hips, and fixed him with a knowing look. “Strawberries and vanilla. Very distinctive.”

Y/n froze, his mind racing for an excuse. Think, think, think. Before he could respond, the closet door creaked ever so slightly, drawing Yujin’s attention. Her head snapped toward it, and she took a step forward. “Is someone in there?” she asked, her tone shifting from playful to accusatory.

“No!” Y/n said quickly, stepping between her and the closet. “I mean… probably just the wind or something. Old building, you know? Drafty.” He laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. Sweat was definitely forming now.

Yujin raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. She crossed her arms, tilting her head as she studied him. “Y/n-oppa,” she began, her voice sweet but laced with mischief, “are you hiding something from me?”

Before he could answer, the closet door burst open, and Wonyoung stepped out, her hair slightly disheveled but her expression defiant. “Yes, he is,” she declared, folding her arms over her chest. “And before you get all worked up, Yujin-unnie, it’s not what you think.”

Yujin’s jaw dropped, her eyes widening as she looked between Wonyoung and Y/n. “Excuse me? Not what I think?” she repeated, her voice rising. “You were in his closet, smelling like his bedsheets, and—”

“Enough!” Y/n interrupted, raising both hands to silence them. His voice carried a firmness that surprised even himself, and both girls stopped mid-sentence, staring at him. He took a deep breath, lowering his voice. “Look, this isn’t helping anyone. We’re a team, right? So let’s not turn this into some dramatic scene.”

Wonyoung pouted, her lower lip jutting out as she glanced at Yujin. “She started it,” she muttered under her breath.

Yujin scoffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I started it? You’re the one who—”

“Stop,” Y/n said again, softer this time but no less commanding. He stepped between them, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. “Listen. I… I care about both of you. A lot. And if we’re going to make this work, we need to be honest with each other. No secrets, no jealousy. Just… trust.”

For a moment, the room was silent, save for the sound of their breathing. Then, Yujin let out a small huff, her lips curving into a reluctant smile. “Fine,” she said, though her eyes still flashed with a hint of challenge. “But you owe me coffee after this.”

Wonyoung rolled her eyes but nodded. “And me too,” she added, smirking at Y/n. “Maybe even breakfast.”

Y/n let out a relieved laugh, feeling some of the tension drain from his shoulders. “Deal,” he said, grinning despite himself. If only it could always be this easy, he thought, though he knew better than to hope for smooth sailing.

Later that afternoon, the group gathered in the practice room for another grueling session. Winter had been unusually quiet throughout the day, her sharp eyes watching Y/n with an intensity that made him uneasy. She sat cross-legged on the floor, scrolling through her phone, but every so often, her gaze would flicker up to meet his, holding it for just a second too long before she looked away.

Karina clapped her hands, calling everyone to attention. “Alright, let’s run through the choreography one more time. Focus on the transitions—they’re still a bit messy.”

The music started, and Y/n threw himself into the routine, trying to ignore the way Winter’s eyes seemed to burn into his back. By the time they finished, his muscles were screaming in protest, and his shirt clung to his skin with sweat. He collapsed onto the floor, leaning against the mirrored wall as he caught his breath.

Just as he closed his eyes, he felt a presence beside him. He opened them to find Wonyoung crouching down, her face glowing with exertion but her smile bright. “Oppa,” she said, her voice soft, “will you come shopping with me later? I need to pick up some clothes for everyone, and I could use your opinion.”

Y/n hesitated, glancing around the room. Karina was deep in conversation with Chaewon, and Yujin was stretching nearby, her eyes darting toward them periodically. Winter was still watching him, her expression unreadable. “Sure,” he said finally, forcing a smile. “Let me just clean up first.”

As he stood, he caught Yujin’s eye. She gave him a small nod, though her lips were pressed into a thin line. He could tell she wasn’t happy about it, but she didn’t say anything. One problem at a time, he told himself.

An hour later, Y/n found himself in Wonyoung’s room, sitting awkwardly on the edge of her bed as she rummaged through her closet. “So, what do you think of this?” she asked, holding up a vibrant pink dress that shimmered under the light.

“It’s… um, nice,” Y/n said, unsure of how else to respond. “Very… eye-catching.”

Wonyoung giggled, setting the dress aside and turning to face him. Her expression softened, her eyes locking onto his. “You’re really cute when you’re nervous,” she said, taking a step closer.

Before he could react, she was straddling him, her hands gripping his shoulders as she pressed her lips to his. Y/n’s brain short-circuited, his body instinctively responding as her tongue slipped into his mouth. He reached up, tangling his fingers in her hair as she deepened the kiss, her nails digging into his skin.

“W-Wonyoung,” he gasped when she broke away to trail kisses down his neck, her teeth grazing his collarbone. “We shouldn’t—”

“Shh,” she whispered, her voice husky with desire. “Don’t think. Just feel.”

Her hands moved to the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head before tossing it aside. His breath hitched as she ran her fingers over his chest, her touch sending sparks through his body. She leaned down, nipping at his skin before licking away the sting, her movements deliberate and slow.

“Wonyoung,” he moaned, his hands gripping her waist as she shifted above him. She smirked, reaching behind her to unclasp her bra, letting it fall to the floor before grabbing his hands and placing them on her bare skin. “Touch me,” she breathed, grinding against him.

He obeyed, his fingers tracing the curve of her hips before sliding up to cup her breasts. She let out a breathy sigh, arching into his touch as she rolled her hips against his growing hardness. “You’re mine right now,” she murmured, her voice dripping with possessiveness as she leaned down to claim his lips once more.

Her fingers fumbled with the button of his pants, yanking them down along with his boxers. She pulled back just enough to kick off her own shorts and panties, her eyes dark with hunger as she positioned herself above him. “Ready?” she teased, her voice trembling with anticipation.

Y/n nodded, his breath coming in shallow gasps as she lowered herself onto him, her tight warmth engulfing him completely. She let out a low moan, her nails raking down his chest as she began to move, her pace slow and deliberate at first, then increasingly frantic. Her head fell back, her hair cascading over her shoulders as she rode him, her cries of pleasure echoing through the room.

“Faster,” she begged, her voice breaking as she gripped his shoulders for leverage. Y/n obliged, thrusting upward to meet her movements, their rhythm falling into sync as the heat between them built to a fever pitch. Wonyoung’s moans grew louder, more desperate, until she shuddered above him, her body tightening as waves of pleasure overtook her.

Y/n followed soon after, his release spilling inside her as she collapsed onto his chest, her breath coming in ragged gasps. For a moment, they lay there, tangled together and soaked in sweat, the world outside forgotten.

“Well,” Wonyoung said after a while, her voice teasing as she propped herself up to look at him, “that was fun.”

Y/n blinked up at her, his mind still reeling. “Yeah,” he managed, his voice hoarse. “Fun.”

Wonyoung’s lips curved into a sly smile as she leaned down, her breath warm against his ear. “You think we’re done?” she whispered, her voice dripping with mischief. Her fingers traced lazy circles on his chest, sending shivers down his spine. “I’m just getting started.”

Y/n’s eyes widened, but before he could respond, Wonyoung shifted her weight, straddling him again. Her hands slid down his torso, nails lightly scratching his skin, and he hissed at the sensation. She laughed softly, her voice low and sultry. “Don’t tell me you’re already tired, Y/n. I thought you had more stamina than this.”

His body tensed under her teasing, a mix of exhaustion and desire warring within him. But the way she looked at him—her dark eyes glinting with playful challenge—was enough to reignite the fire in his veins. He reached up, tangling his fingers in her hair, and pulled her closer until their lips were almost touching. “Careful what you wish for,” he murmured, his voice rough.

Wonyoung smirked, clearly enjoying the game. “Oh, I’m counting on it,” she purred before capturing his mouth in another deep kiss. Her hips rolled against his, and he groaned into her mouth, his hands gripping her waist tightly. The heat between them was undeniable, their bodies moving together with a rhythm that felt both natural and desperate.

Their second round was slower but no less intense, each touch and movement deliberate. Wonyoung’s moans were softer now, more intimate, as if she was savoring every moment. Y/n’s hands explored every inch of her, memorizing the feel of her skin beneath his fingertips. It was intoxicating, overwhelming, and yet not enough. They clung to each other, chasing the high of their connection, unwilling to let go.

When they finally collapsed onto the bed, breathless and sweaty, Wonyoung let out a contented sigh. “Okay,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe I underestimated you.”

Y/n chuckled, though it came out more like a groan. “Glad to hear it.”

They lay there for a while, catching their breath, until Wonyoung sat up, stretching languidly. “We should probably get dressed,” she said, glancing around the room. “Before someone else decides to barge in unannounced.”

Y/n nodded, reluctantly sitting up as well. They gathered their clothes, the air between them still charged with the remnants of what had just happened. As they dressed, Wonyoung shot him a mischievous grin. “Just so you know, this doesn’t mean I’m going to stop teasing you.”

He raised an eyebrow, half amused, half wary. “Noted.”

By the time they emerged from her room, the rest of the group was bustling about, preparing for the day ahead. Karina was the first to notice them, her sharp eyes flickering between Y/n and Wonyoung as they approached. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then seemed to think better of it, instead offering a small nod of acknowledgment.

“Thanks for helping Wonyoung with… whatever it was you two were doing,” Winter chimed in, her tone light but her gaze piercing. She stepped closer to Y/n, her hand brushing against his cheek in a gesture that felt far too familiar. “You’re always so… accommodating.”

Y/n stiffened, acutely aware of Karina watching them. But before he could respond, Wonyoung cut in, her voice sweet but laced with subtle warning. “Isn’t he just? We’re lucky to have him.”

Winter smirked, clearly enjoying the tension she was creating. “Indeed.”

The conversation shifted to mundane topics after that, but the underlying unease lingered. Y/n felt Karina’s eyes on him throughout, her gaze soft yet tinged with something deeper—something he couldn’t quite place. When she finally approached him, her touch was tentative as she took his arm, her fingers gently caressing his bicep.

“Thank you, Y/n,” she said quietly, her voice filled with warmth. Her eyes met his, and for a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the room. “For everything.”

Her words were simple, but the emotion behind them was anything but. Y/n’s heart ached with guilt and longing, but he forced himself to smile. “Of course. You don’t have to thank me.”

Karina hesitated, as if she wanted to say more, but then she seemed to catch herself. She coughed lightly, stepping back and breaking the spell. “Right. Well, we should all get ready. There’s still a lot to do today.”

The others nodded, exchanging glances that hinted at things left unsaid. Winter lingered for a moment longer, her fingers trailing along Y/n’s jawline before she finally turned away. “See you later,” she called over her shoulder, her tone dripping with promise.

As the group dispersed, Y/n exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of their collective attention pressing down on him. He needed a moment to breathe, to clear his head. A shower sounded perfect—just the thing to wash away the sweat and tension clinging to his skin.

He made his way to the bathroom, stripping off his clothes as soon as the door closed behind him. The water was hot, almost scalding, but it felt good against his skin. He stood under the spray, letting it wash away the lingering echoes of the morning’s events.

But just as he began to relax, he heard it—a soft, melodic humming coming from outside the bathroom door. His heart skipped a beat, and he quickly turned off the water, grabbing a towel to wrap around his waist. “Hello?” he called out, his voice hesitant.

The humming stopped, replaced by the sound of the doorknob turning. Before he could react, the door swung open, and Yujin stepped inside, her eyes widening in shock as she took in the sight of him—dripping wet, bare-chested, and very much naked from the waist down aside from the hastily wrapped towel.

“Y/n?!” she squeaked, her face turning bright red as she immediately spun around, covering her eyes with her hands. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t—”

Y/n froze, his mind racing as he tried to process what had just happened. “Yujin, wait—”

But she was already backing out of the bathroom, stumbling over her own feet in her haste to escape. “I-I’ll just—uh—”

The door slammed shut behind her, leaving Y/n standing there, stunned and utterly exposed. He stared at the closed door, his heart pounding in his chest as the reality of the situation sank in. This was not how he expected his day to go.

From the other side of the door, he could hear Yujin’s muffled voice, though her words were too faint to make out. Y/n groaned, running a hand through his wet hair. What was he supposed to do now?

The silence stretched on, thick and uncomfortable, until Y/n finally mustered the courage to call out, “Yujin?”

There was no response. He waited a few moments, then sighed. “I’m really sorry about that,” he said, though he wasn’t entirely sure who he was apologizing to—her or himself.

[yutarot]

ride or die. l.jn smau

021 — queen of hearts. wc: 3.4k (sorry)

YN POV

you really don’t want to go to this party.

after your chat with chenle, you’ve decided that everything he said was complete and utter nonsense. you? in love with jeno? you laugh at the thought. so as you slip into the outfit that winter picked out for you and receive the thumbs-up approval from mark, you decide that you’re going to make tonight worth it. you’re going to let out all of the pent up confusion of the last few days, all of your built up emotions. you're going to spend the entire party on the other side of the room to jaemin and most certainly jeno, and no-one is going to fall in love.

its going to be simple, unproblematic: exactly what you need. you want things back to the way they were, before you discovered jeno's identity, before your life was sent into complete and utter chaos.

in all honesty, the situation with jaemin upset you for more reasons than one. because, not only did jaemin having feelings for you mean that you've had to repeatedly keep turning him down, but it then meant that jeno’s identity being exposed was completely futile, and it made you feel awful.

after all, jaemin leaked jeno’s identity because of you, and despite jeno being okay with it, you aren’t.

putting your thoughts aside, you reinsert yourself into reality, standing side by side to mark and winter, horrifically aware of all the eyes around you. haalands frat house was spacious, a hue of dark multicoloured light stretching from wall to wall, absorbed in the imminent sound of upbeat music and flood of bodies. it hasn't gone unnoticed to the rest of the people at the party the way that you and jeno have avoided each other all night. occasionally, you catch a glance of him across the room, nursing the same drink he's had since he got here, whilst you’re way beyond your sixth, or perhaps even your eighth, its hard to tell. but people were starting to notice, and whether you like it or not, you're going to have to speak to him at some point. just not yet, you need a few more drinks first.

excusing yourself from winter and mark, you see chenle and his friend, jisung, pouring drinks at the side of the room, and you make the very unwise decision to go over to them.

"pour me one?" you say, extending your cup out to jisung who shyly pours the remaining liquor into your cup. chenle however, is unimpressed, giving you the most diabolical look of discontent, his eyebrow raising.

you squeeze past chenle in silence to grab some lemonade for the rest of your drink before he finally speaks.

"you gonna explain why you're doing everything but following my advice?" his voice is laced with a humorous tone of annoyance.

"no.." you reply, "im just.. feeling out the atmosphere first."

"oh right, okay. only for two hours." he flips back sarcastically.

jisung laughs awkwardly, not aware at all what the two of you are talking about.

"okay fine, I changed my mind."

chenle gives you a deadpan look. "how so?"

"what you said yesterday, i think you're wrong. "

chenle doesn't reply, he only laughs. "yeah. okay." he keeps chuckling to himself, so much so that you get annoyed, turning back around to go find mark and winter.

if, two months ago, you had told yourself that you would have walked away from the chenle zhong at a party mid conversation, you wouldn't believe it. you take the mental note to tell mark later, rubbing in all the times that he made fun of your crush in the past.

as you get back to your best friends, winter notices the cogs turning in the back of your mind. “why do i feel like you’re planning to kill someone.” she giggles.

“she’s pretty drunk.” mark replies for you, “she’s probably just trying to keep herself from throwing up everywhere.”

winter laughs, leaning round to check if you’re okay, in which you reply. “im not drunk, just annoyed.”

winter and mark exchange a glance.

as if on queue, you realise that one of your's and winters go-to party songs has began to fill the room: exceeder by mason. jumping out of your anger feuded trance, you grab winters hand, leading her to the centre of the party.

you let yourself go, ignoring all the prying eyes of those around you, finally basking in your own enjoyment, along-side your bestfriend.

you feel free, safe from judgement.

but all of that comes to a halt when you hear renjuns voice replace the large sound of music.

“those of you that want to join for the dare circle stay here, those of you that don’t. politely, fuck off." he adds on a "thanks." to the end, as if it would make his sentence suddenly super polite.

a dare circle? at a college party? you feel sick at the thought. but winters steel grip keeps you in place, and it’s not until you’re sat in the circle ready to play do you realise who’s remaining in the room.

to either side of you sit winter and mark, and when you scan your eyes around the rest, the voices of renjun, haechan, haaland, jaemin and chenle all fill the silence, aswell as some other faces you don't recognise. but when your eyes meet the person sitting at the far end of the circle, attention already baring into you, you go cold. jeno sits, leaning back on his hands and he looks at you. his face is calm, but you sense something even deeper whirring inside him, and you’re intrigued to find out what it is.

before you can think any further on the matter, haaland yells something incoherent, and when someone asks 'what the actual fuck that was supposed to mean', he shrugs, pointing to haechan.

“the fuck do you want me to do?!" haechan argues, but haaland gives him the middle finger.

haechan rolls his eyes dramatically. “fine, you big oof, i’ll explain the rules.” he pauses, picking up a pack of cards from the centre of the circle. “each card is correspondant to a dare. the number on the card indicates how many shots you have to take if you don’t do the dare, and the symbol indicates what dare you get."

everyone in the circle nods, excitement filling the air around you

"clubs: you have to choose someone to slap you in the face.”

beside you, mark bursts into laughter, “fucking praying i get to see haaland slap someone.”

you zone mark out, rolling your eyes as you listen to the rest of haechan’s explanation. “spades: you’ll be asked a personal question to answer.”

sounds pretty self explanatory, though you’re betting you’ll get a question about you and jeno, but it’s nothing you haven’t dealt with before. it’s become second nature to lie about your relationship with him, girls constantly coming up to you asking all sorts of questions, and you know they’re just feeling you out to see if you’ll last, waiting for their opportunity to have him for themselves. you’ll never understand the appeal.

well.. maybe some things you could understand.

“diamonds: you have to give the number on the card in dollars to the person on your left.”

a unified moan of annoyance floods through the circle, pleads of ‘fuck you im broke.’ and a 'i literally just got fired' from jisung, flying around the room.

“and hearts.” he pauses, eyes scanning meticulously between each of you, “hearts: you have to kiss someone else in the circle.”

after haechan explains the rules, eager and completely incoherent yells expand from the people around you. “easy.” winter chuckles, winking at haechan, and mark throws her a look of disgust.

“i really do hate people in relationships.” mark groans. you couldn’t agree more, though you couldn’t openly agree that in this setting.

haechan shuffles the cards before placing the deck in the centre of the circle and obviously choosing winter to go first. she giggles as she picks up the top card, flipping it over to reveal the 7 of clubs. the entire circle fades into a fit of laughter as you notice the drop in haechans expression.

"fuck you for choosing me to go first." she says, aimed at haechan. you all watch in anticipation as she places herself infront of him, everyone around her urging her on as she places her palm to haechans cheek, only to (lightly) slap him a few moments later. the circle is in a disarray of chaos, haechan eventually joining in, laughing at his own seriousness.

its winters turn to choose who's next and you're a little relieved that she's sober enough not to try and mess with you. a sigh escapes you as she chooses mark, who, on the contrary, is absolutely livid.

he picks up a card and flips it, the 4 of diamonds. he kicks his feet in anger as he digs into his wallet, taking out 4 dollars and passing it to winter, who just so happens to be on his left.

"I want that back later." he says.

winter laughs, "i'll buy you a burger."

when its marks turn to choose, he picks jaemin. you immediately turn to your best friend, eyes telling him just how much you wish to kill him. mark only shrugs before whispering to you.

"games a game."

you hit him on the back of his head in annoyance.

the circle is suddenly tense as jaemin reaches for the deck, and when he flips the top card, you go stiff.

"ooooooo, 2 of spades." haechan says, a smirk plastered on his face

somehow you hear haalands voice booming over the sound of your heart racing. "let me ask! let me ask! let me ask!" you exchange glances with literally everyone else in the room as you question what the hell haaland wants to ask, but you let him because, what the hell, why not?

"how do you feel knowing your best friend is dating your crush?"

the room falls silent.

that's why not,

"what? what is it?" haaland whispers to haechan, "what did I say wrong?" haechan slaps him on his arm, getting him to shut up, seemingly very intrigued on jaemins answer.

as are you.

but jaemin says nothing. he just looks at jeno, who very slightly shakes his head, almost unnoticeable.

but you notice.

after what seems like one too many seconds of silence, jaemin reaches towards the bottle in the middle of the circle and the entire room bursts into an energy of drunken excitement and chaos.

jaemin, seemingly angry at the situation, points to the one person in the room you've been hoping, praying, wouldn't be picked.

jeno.

if you thought the circle couldn't get more tense, you were wrong.

although you know its your imagination, you feel the burning of everyones attention on you, though the dare is placed on jeno.

he says nothing, just leaning forward and grabbing a card from the top of the deck.

you study jenos face as he reads the card. his expression hardens, eyes immediately going to yours as he places the card in the centre of the circle for everyone to see.

the energy of the room returns.

you look down at the card and your heart plunges out of your chest.

the queen of hearts.

this can only go one of two ways: jeno is going to somehow down 12 shots of straight liquor, one after the other, or he's going to decide to spare himself a trip to the hospital and be forced to, instead, go through with his dare.

to kiss somebody else in the circle.

immediately, jeno looks to you, a face of question lining his features, as if he's asking for your permission.

everyone glances between you and jeno, jeering you on. you feel suffocated, surrounded by faces of both people who don't know the truth and people that do, a plethora of judgement and the utmost fear of what's true: that it has to be you, you're his girlfriend.

you begin to panic. this was it, you couldn't escape it. this wasn't like being confronted by one of samo's fangirls, this wasn't like one of your faux dates with jeno. because atleast then you could pretend it was something it wasn't.

but this is different. a kiss is a kiss.

you can barely keep up with your own mind. you decide there's only one way out of this. you have to get out of there, now. you have to find a place away from all of these faces. so that's what you do, you get up, finding yourself heading straight to the nearest bedroom.

you close the door, collecting yourself. you feel stupid, cowardly, getting up and leaving like that. if people didn't think something was up between you two before, then they definitely do now.

but it wasn't them that you were worried about.

amidst your panicking and uncontrollable embarrassment, you hear the door click.

“winter, im okay i just-“

“hi.” jeno’s voice reaches down inside you, ripping up all hope of composure. you don’t know why you feel like this, why you feel like your heart is about to explode out of your chest and make a mess of haalands carpet. but you can’t control it, no matter how hard you try to.

“sorry,” you say quietly, “i thought you were winter.”

“well im not, if that helps.” he laughs, and you grin at his silliness.

"not really.." you say, the words coming out although you don't mean for them to.

there’s a pause of silence before jeno speaks up again. “sorry if i, you know, freaked you out in there. i just thought it’d be suspicious if it wasn’t you.”

“it’s okay.” it’s not okay. it’s not okay at all.

“can i ask you something?” he asks. you look up at him, the same stoic expression plastered on his face.

“okay..”

“why have you been avoiding me?” he says, a complete contrast to whatever you thought it was that he was going to say. “everywhere i go i feel your eyes follow me, but that’s all it is. not once have you spoken to me at this party until now, and frankly, im getting pretty fucking annoyed about it.”

his words catch you off guard, you’ve never seen jeno angry like this, eyes cold and unrelentless.

“it’s just… easier to pretend you’re not here.” you reply. it’s true, jeno’s mere existence is only a reminder of how much you ruined his life. though it was indirectly, it’s still your fault.

he’s silent, as if he’s suddenly understood your thoughts, before he speaks. “don’t.”

“don’t what?”

“don’t pretend im not here. it’s killing me.”

something in him shifts, as if all the anger in him suddenly turns and drifts out of his mind, replaced by a solemn feeling of helplessness.

but his jaw is still clenched. hard.

that feeling of something else floating at the back of jenos mind overwhelms you again. you're curious, about him, about you, and suddenly your mind races back to your conversation with chenle.

'just see what happens if you follow what your heart tells you.'

jeno can see that your thinking, and you pray that he can't read your mind.

"you're not okay, yn. what's going on in that little head of yours? why did you run in here?"

you take a moment to collect yourself, deciding that you need to tell him. he's the only other person in the world that could understand what it feels like to be in the position where something fake could, so quickly, seem so real.

"everyone was watching.” you say, quietly, looking down at the floor to avoid eye contact.

but when he doesn't speak, you look up. his eyes find yours, brows furrowed.

“isn’t that the point?” he says, mocking you. you can’t help but scoff at his response.

its the attention of it all. it’s not the people that don’t know the truth that worries you, its the people that do. fear struck you at the possibility that if you were to kiss jeno, it would suddenly make everything seem too real.

and that was not what you wanted.

despite what chenle thought you did.

you realise you haven't answered him, incessantly rambling in your own mind, when a small smile lines jenos features, atmosphere shifting and causing you to tense as he speaks up.

jeno steps closer to you, and you don’t know if it’s the alcohol speaking or you’re just plain delusional, but you swear he’s looking at your lips.

your theory is confirmed the second he opens his mouth to speak.

"how about now." his voice is soft. "its just us."

you don't know what to do, to say. so you just let him speak, unaware if its the sudden change in atmosphere that's making you dizzy, the alcohol, or jenos words.

but as he continues to speak, you decide its definitely the latter.

jeno tilts his head, looking down at you. "as your boyfriend, its only right that i can kiss you. no?"

you look at him in awe.

before you have time to register what the hell you're doing, you do the unthinkable, your actions exploding with a lack of consequence and an overwhelming new urge of confidence.

just once, you tell yourself, just to prove to myself that it’s not real.

you don’t think, you don’t want to think, as you step forward and reach up, hand falling to the back of his neck. you pull his head down and almost immediately his lips find yours.

its soft, careful. but as jeno realises what's happening, the tension between you shifts and suddenly, it's as if there was something new between you, finally imploding in your senses. it’s desperate, controlled and yet you have no idea what you’re doing.

jeno, however, seems to know exactly what he’s doing.

subtly, you feel his smile against your lips as he reaches a hand down to your waist, circling your lower back and pulling you flush against his body. you don’t have time to react, he’s taken full control over everything, as if he’s been wanting to do this for the longest time.

he breaks the kiss, murmuring against your skin. “you know there’s no-one watching us, right?” he leans back in, not even waiting for your reply.

“i know.” you manage to say. its a simple question, but it means so much.

there’s something so indescribably natural about it, as if yours and jeno’s relationship had been real the whole time. but it hadn’t, and you were becoming increasingly aware of it with every press of his lips against yours.

he senses something within you and he pulls away, eyes searching in your own as he pushes your hair from your face, his touch barely there. “you okay?”

you don’t need to say anything; he knows what your thinking. his hands slowly let loose from your sides, letting you stand onto your own weight and your knees almost buckle at the action. “easy, i've got you.” he says, holding you again and finally letting go only after you've regained your balance.

the air between you is thick, the confusion of what the hell just happened suffocating you.

you open your mouth to say something, to ease the awkwardness between you, but jeno beats you to it.

you feel awkward, like you want to do anything but stay in this room with him. he senses your stiffness, reaching past you to grab the door handle.

“hope you enjoy the rest of the party, pretty.” he mocks you with the last word, opening the door to let you both out of the room.

you scoff, eyes rolling with a small laugh. “i’ll try.” you say, before walking back into the room, multiple pairs of eyes staring as you both appear.

you sit back inbetween winter and mark, jeno also taking his rightful place back in the circle.

“what happened with you guys, you were gone for ages?” mark whispers.

you reply, “i think we just ruined everything.” you’re talking to mark, but your eyes never leave jeno’s.

fuck, you’re right. you really have just ruined everything.

but it was at that moment that you realised something crucial to why whatever just happened, had happened.

you wanted it to. and that very fact chilled you to the bone.

previous : mlist : next

notes; not me making up a whole drinking game because i didn’t wanna use truth or dare ☠️

taglist — open! @jenohyun @jirsungs @do-you-remember-summer-127 @ddolbyong @stqrgr7 @thatsatricky1 @sunghoonsgfreal @nattan127 @ssweetreveries @flamingi @chenlesfavorite @peterm4rker @snoopyjimin @akunoeyebrows @junviadinho @slayhaechan @f6llsun @multifandomania @cookiehaos @catecita @mrsjohnnysuh @luv4jeno @hyuckies18 @dreamiestay @tangerinelovelees @jjaegyeom @https-yeonjun @nanaxwi @yukisroom97 @nosungluv @mrkleelvr @neocrashed @jaedgemental @apolloxxivmin @kyubing @catdonut657 @dudekiss3r @juyeonshour @hamjwis @antifrggile @mmjhh1998 @thegracerammy @jenocity23 @honeynanamin @bluedbliss @lampcults @yyangj3lly

[santaasi]

obviously blind

pairing: james potter x bsf!fem!reader

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

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

word count: 11.3k

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

ᯓ★ now playing…

slaves – footprints

You left your mark on me like footprints in the snow

Would you promise me you'll never let me go

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A girl.

Not just any girl, but you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bloody hell,” Sirius muttered under his breath.

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

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

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

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

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

“Padfoot—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

James groaned, though his smile was fond.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was unbearable.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

March 30, 1975

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Never by name. Always darling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about me?”

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

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

Sirius frowned. “Why not?”

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

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

“Alright, what are you two plotting?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hopeless,” Sirius added, shaking his head.

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

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

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

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

Maybe love, real love, was something entirely different.

November 27, 1976

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

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

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

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

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

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

And James? Well, James wasn’t himself.

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

The idiot was besotted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then came the letters about Lily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The final letter undid him.

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

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

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

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

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

Balanced. Grounded. Sincere.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

FROM THE ARCHIVE OF SIRIUS BLACK:

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

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

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

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

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

thankx for reading <3

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

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

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

– your santi 🪐

masterlist

[thanosscross]

Some head-cannons from the baby series to hold you lovelies over while I’m at work <3

*anytime Seung Hyun is around you after your performance with him he’s a blushing mess, only remembering how close your bodies were the last half of the night

*their fans would be iffy at first about how closely you were with T.O.P during the performance, not recognizing you at first they would be hella protective over the BigBang member

*the more they’d tour the more Seung Hyun would sneakily lay hints about needing a new back-up dancer for their shows

*you’d occasionally say yes, always loving the way his face would light up whenever you’d come out in a costume similar to his, all for him

*on stage Seung Hyun was always cocky with you, pulling you around, moving your body how he wanted while you danced but at home he’s the exact opposite after performances

*after all of the screaming and loudness going silent, it’d leave Seung Hyun overwhelmed and overstimulated, so he’d try and keep his distance from everybody while trying to be polite at the same time

*you’d of course take notice and take him off to the side, helping him in any way you could before you all went out to celebrate the tour

*After you two got together anytime you’d go to a club Seung Hyun would make sure to stay close to you, only giving you distance whenever he was drunk, and that was only if one of the boys were standing right next to you

*Drunk Seung Hyun was a sass king whenever you were around, sauntering around the dance floor and V.I.P section as he’d give you sass with anything you’d say

*”I love you baby but please sit down”

*”I don’t need to sit down, I like standing, I’m hot standing you know it” he’d reply, his tone dripping with sass as he’d walk away

*you’d just chase after him giggling, pulling you back to your friends

*After getting home from the club you’d basically become their nurse if you were sober enough, helping them all to the couch before dealing with your drunk friends.

*Handling drunk Seung Hyun was easy if you could handle the sassy come backs and the constant demand for you to drink with him

*handling all 4 of them? That was a completely different story.

*While Tae-Yang and Seung Hyun would be back and forth arguing Dae-Sung would be trying to drink even more, Ji-Yong laying sprawled out on the couch with his hand on his face fanning it dramatically as he repeated that he was drunk.

*you’d spend the night chasing after them all, eventually getting them all to their rooms you were left with a sassy, drunk, sleepy Seung Hyun.

*Seung hyun would get sensitive whenever it was just the two of you drinking, finding you wherever you were before pulling you into a tight hug, resting his head on top of yours while he reminded you how much he loved you

*”You just..care about each one of us in our own eyes, you love us all and yet you only look at me” that’s how you knew he was about to start ranting and you’d be unable to do anything else for the rest of the night

*you learned the hard way after about the third time he got drunk with you alone that you couldn’t turn your back to him while he was like this, it would break his heart resulting in tears from him

*You’d just hug him back rubbing his back as he attempted to sway back and forth while extremely drunk

*”you’re pretty like the sun..doing..sun stuff” he’d mumble after you’d finally get him into bed, pulling you onto him as he laid underneath the covers.

*You’d hold him for the rest of the night after that, waiting until he fell asleep to tell him you loved him back

-

*whenever you were drunk it was quite the opposite

*Seung Hyun would watch you throughout the night, the minute he’d realize you were near blacking out he’d rush everybody home

*you weren’t a constant drinker but you could hold your alcohol and had a pretty good tolerance, so if you were blacking out it meant the boys were far past blacking out

*whenever he’d get everybody inside, you’d be a fight on its own, waiting outside patiently for Seung Hyun to come grab your hand and lead you inside

*that’s how you got the nickname princess with him, anytime you got drunk with him, you’d demand to be treated like one

*You weren’t ashamed by it, not whenever Seung Hyun constantly talked about how cute it was, or how much he liked treating you like one

*whenever you’d all go inside Dae-Sung would immediately start making more drinks for everybody much to Seung Hyun disliking

*Your face would quickly change his mind though as he watched you grab your glass from his friend before making your way back to him

*He’d always hold your glass while you were drinking, unless you were taking an actual drink, you’d find your glass or cup in your boyfriends hand

*you really wouldn’t be a struggle while drunk, unless the boys started making challenges and dares, that’s whenever he’d start to worry about you

*drunk you would never turn down either, wanting to prove you were a badass

*if they did start daring each other to do stupid things he’d take you upstairs to the room, helping you into the shower to help get any sweat or remaining makeup you had from the club off of you

*he’d be the most respectful while helping you shower, boyfriend or not, you were drunk and needed help, not sex.

*he’d ghost his hands over you whenever he’d help you stand, if you needed more than that he’d grasp your hand, holding it in the air to keep his hands from touching any intimate areas.

*Seung Hyun would help you into bed, holding you until you fell asleep before going to care for the rest of his drunk friends.

—

You like?

—

Taglist!!

@ag022123

@acehasmyheart

@onyxmango

@learninglinesintherainn

@mitchko11

@heartz4rubyy

[burningembers91]

The Debt Collector - Choi Woo-Seok x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Choi Woo-Seok spends his days collecting money from people who can’t afford to pay. But when he meets you, he can’t help but bend the rules

A/N: the love I have for not only this character, but for the actor plays him in unbelievable. I love every character he plays and I adored his character in Squid Game. If you haven’t watched the Kdrama Kingdom, on Netflix I urge to immediately watch it. This man plays the most selfish, most cowardly, but most loveable person I have ever seen grace my screen.

Choi Woo-Seok had wanted to be a lot of things in his life. His parents had wanted him to be a doctor, but the sight of blood made him queasy. He’d thought about becoming a lawyer, but he was terrible at arguing. He’d trained as a chef for a short while, but that came to a swift end when he set the kitchen on fire just 2 weeks in. He loved photography, but there was no money in it, and if he was going to have a family of his own one day, he’d need a job that could support them. He wasn’t quite sure how he became a debt collector; he just sort of fell into it one day. What had started off as friendly conversation at a bar with a stranger had developed into a friendship, which developed into a job offer and before he knew it, Woo-Seok was knocking on the doors of those who owed his boss money. He wasn’t a violent man, he actively tried to avoid it at all costs. But, luckily for him his boss had plenty of hired muscle, so Woo-Seok could keep a happy distance from the beatings delivered to those who couldn’t pay.

It wasn’t the fanciest job in the world, but his boss was nice, the pay was good, and he didn’t haven’t to wear a stuffy suit to work. Being a debt collector didn’t give him much of a chance to meet women though. He had barely any free time, and when he did, he could never seem to land himself a date. Women tended to go for guys that didn’t look like him, that didn’t tell cheesey jokes, or trip over their own feet when walking. He longed to be a father and husband though, to be a provider for a family he hoped would cherish him as much as he cherished them.

When his boss gave him your name as the next person to visit, he hadn’t expected to be so taken aback by you. It was mostly men who owed money, but the few women who did were often just as violent and brash as their male counterparts, and Woo-Seok had been slapped more times that he’d like to admit by an angry woman who couldn’t afford to pay.

When he met you, you were so timid and shy. It was your husband who had borrowed money from his boss, who had gambled away every penny. When the money ran out, and he wasn’t able to borrow more he fled, leaving you to pick up the pieces. You didn’t deserve to pay for something you’d had no part in. You were already working 2 jobs, trying desperately to keep your head above water. You had no idea where your ex had fled to, and had no desire to find out. That man had been nothing but trouble from the moment you’d met him, but love made people blind, and you’d been no exception.

Woo-Seok pled your case for you. Begged his boss to write the debt off.

“You’re a softie,” his boss had sighed, but he chose to let the debt go. He had bigger fish to fry and he trusted Woo-Seok with his life. If he saw something in you, his boss wasn’t going to question it. “Don’t go trying to play the hero though,” he warned him. “It’ll only end in tears.”

But Woo-Seok couldn’t stay away. He’d only gone over to tell you the debt had been wiped clean, but when he found you scrambling to pick up the groceries that had fallen from your split carrier bag, he couldn’t help himself. He carried everything into your apartment for you, replaced the milk that had splattered all over the concrete, and bought you a coffee and a cake from his favourite cafe.

Woo-Seok made you laugh. You loved his cheesey jokes, his bashful smile, his selflessness. He was your knight in shining armour.

You made Woo-Seok smile so much his jaw ached. He was lighter on his feet, he whistled as he walked, he was so happy when he was with you it was like he was walking on a cloud.

He’d asked you out a few months after you met. There was a new open-air movie theatre coming to a park near your apartment. But you’d been left so broken by your ex, so fearful of letting someone in that you declined. You didn’t want to say no; you wanted to go on a date with the man who made your heart sing, but you couldn’t risk getting hurt. Not when you’d only begun to heal.

So the two of you stayed friends, Woo-Seok coming to check on you whenever he could. He didn’t know how to help you heal, didn’t know to take away the pain that was so evident in your eyes.

To Woo-Seok, you were perfect. And if he had to, he would spend every day for the rest of his life helping you to see what he did: a wonderful woman who he loved with every fibre of his being.

[emotionalsupportgoblin420]

TFA team Prime x Human!Reader headcanons.

Just some general crushing/relationship headcanons.

Optimus prime

He's absolutely shocked when he realizes he's fallen for a human.

He struggles a bit with the idea of a human and a cybertronian being together and how realistic it may or may not be.

Is definitely a bit nervous interacting with you one on one.

Tries to keep his cool but fails miserably lol.

Has made it his mission to protect you at all costs.

Despite his nervousness, he's quite affectionate.

It's just little things, but all stuff he knows you'd appreciate.

Always listen to you when you talk.

He remembers everything you say and will take note of like, dislikes, wants, and needs.

Takes him forever to muster up the courage to tell you how he feels.

His smile when you say you like him back is to die for.

This man yearns for cuddles but is too worried about hurting you or invading your personal space to just do it.

You gotta offer the cuddles.

Boundaries are number 1 on his priority list in a relationship.

He makes sure he doesn't cross any of yours.

He's definitely not all that openly affectionate around the rest of the team.

Hates Bumblebee's constant teasing.

When you two are alone, it's a very calm kind of affectionate if you know what I mean.

Honestly, your love is what keeps him going sometimes and needs you to know that.

He's a good leader and an even better boyfriend.

TFA Ratchet

This man is the definition of tsundere.

Can't figure out how in the wide world he ended up falling for a human.

So he denies his feelings for as long as he can.

Until they become too strong and he just can't.

Doesn't change how grouchy he is, tho lol.

It's a rare thing for him to say anything nice to you, but when he does, you can feel the sincerity behind them.

He would definitely end up confessing to you while protecting.

Trying to get this man to be openly affectionate is like trying to pull teeth 80% of the time.

He's not necessarily mean, just basic tsundere behavior.

But that 20% is something to die for.

Usually, it's late at night, when everyone else has powered down for the day and you two are the only ones still up.

It's at those times where he really opens up to you.

Not to mention, he appreciates having someone around to listen to him.

And he let you know he appreciates it.

He isn't much for physical affection.

Most you'll get is a caress on the cheek.

Acts or service is his main love language.

He'll fix certain things whether or not you've said anything about them, and he makes sure you take care of yourself.

He may be a little rough around the edges, but at the end of the day, he's a sweet guy deep down.

And he truly cares about you, no questions asked.

TFA Prowl

This man is fascinated by the idea of being in a relationship with a human.

But he never thought he'd be catching feelings for a human.

He's not quite sure what to do with these new feelings.

All he knows is that your presence makes him very happy.

It definitely takes him a while to figure out how to confess to you.

He's not used to being so open with other people.

He definitely gets a little bit flustered around you.

He's not quite sure what boyfriends do.

He tries taking advice from Bumblebee once but only once.

He vows to never do that again lol.

I feel like, despite him being a massive introvert, his love language is still quality time.

He really enjoys and values the time you two spend together.

Loves to study nature with you.

Whether that be through a nature walk or a nature documentary.

TFA Bumblebee

Gets a smile on his face every time you cuddle up next to him while watching a documentary.

Sometimes, he'll just space out and stare at you (until you look in his direction lol).

He usually isn't the type to get overly nervous, but you do some cute and/or hot, and you'll see him lose his cool (just a little).

He's quite the blusher lol.

Would probably faint if you ever did something sexy.

You're probably the only person you can really make him lose his composure, lol.

Oh this man fell fast and fell hard.

Doesn't really care that you're human.

Always tries to act cool around you.

Is an absolute simp 100%

Sometimes, he'll just sit there and stare at you.

You might as well be a god/goddess to him.

Out of everyone, he's probably the least nervous with his feelings.

Definitely finds a way to tell you how he feels in the "coolest" (by his standards lol) way possible.

He is the reigning king of surprise cuddles.

Anywhere, anytime.

He's pretty chill with PDA.

Likes people knowing you're his.

He loves to either play video games with you or just have you around while he plays video games.

He thinks the song Pika Girl by S3RL is the perfect song for your relationship.

Thinks you are the hottest thing on this planet.

He practically gets heart eyes every time you kiss him on the mouth.

When you wear a cute outfit, his knees get all weak as he tries to keep his cool.

God, if you were to wear something sultry, he'd probably start overheating and have an error lol.

Has tried to do the pocky thing with you at least once (if not more) even tho he doesn't eat pockys.

To him, you are his beginning, middle, and end.

TFA Bulkhead

Poor guy gets so nervous when he realizes he's fallen in love with a human.

He thinks he isn't cool enough for you.

Or too scary.

You'd probably have to be the one to confess first for this guy.

Is absolutely shocked that you like him too.

His main love language is 100% physical touch.

Would be too afraid of crushing you to cuddle up to you.

But when you cuddle up to him, oh gosh, you just made his day, no, his whole year.

Is definitely afraid to hug for similar reasons.

Practices gentle hugging on sticks and such just so he can.

Complimenting his art is another easy way to make his day.

As well as letting him infodump about random art facts.

He wouldn't use pet names on you unless you asked because he's so shy lol.

The first time you use a pet name on him, he'd probably almost faint.

Especially if you called him something like "teddy bear."

He'd might actual cry a little (happy tears ofc).

He loves just being able to carry you around everywhere on his shoulder.

He likes being your personal escort lol.

Sometimes, we he's feeling insecure, he needs reassurance you won't leave him for someone cooler.

For a big guy, he can be so sensitive.

And you mean the world to him.

[queeniewithabeanie]

The Nappers

Dpxdc Prompt #10

Danny was really excited to spend the summer with his second cousin(?) he didn't really remember, but apparently Jack Fenton's cousin was Gotham billionaire Bruce Wayne, a serial adopter.

Jazz had discovered the connection and gave him a call to see if he'd mind Danny staying over for summer because Danny decided he was going to tell his parents at the end of summer about his ghost problem, and Jazz wanted him to have a safety net.

He didn't really have a big family at home, with his parents being largely... absent and Jazz moving to Gotham for college. It would be great to be in a house that wasn't empty again.

Now if only his newly discovered family could stay awake long enough for Danny to talk to them.

"So how's living with our cousins?" Jazz asked him through his Fenton-phone. He flopped onto his bed and groaned.

"They're all seem nice but I haven't really seen enough of them to know yet."

"Danny, you've already been there a week, shouldn't you know them at least a little bit? You usually warm up to people quickly, as long as they aren't trying to kill you."

"Man I kinda wish they were out to get me, then I'd probably see more of them than I have already."

"..."

"..."

"Okay Danny walk me through our family, and what you know so far about them."

"Well first there's Dick, he apparently lives in Bludhaven and supposedly comes back to Gotham to visit fairly often, haven't seen any of him yet though."

"Then there's Jason, I've seen him come over after dinner a couple of times, but he's seemed in a really bad mood and I'm getting weird vibes from him so I haven't talked to him much yet either."

"Cass, Steph, Tim, Damian, and Bruce are the ones that actually live here at the manor and outside of when I first arrived I haven't actually seen them awake enough to talk to me. Anytime I've caught a glimpse of them they're taking naps and I'd feel bad waking them up, Tim especially (he looks like he needs the rest)."

"What are they, nocturnal or something?

"That's what I thought too! But the Manor is even more dead during the night than the day. If I had wanted to live with a bunch of zombies I'd have spent summer in the zone, not come all the way here."

"The only people that have stayed awake long enough for me to actually get to know them are Duke and Alfred! Duke's great, but he seems to have a day job so I only see him for breakfast and dinner and any time I can catch him before he sleeps after. Alfred's amazing, but he already has so much to do around the Manor, I feel bad bothering him."

"It is only the first week you're there, and there was a huge Arkham breakout your first day so everybody around Gotham is a bit tense while the Bats are trying to recatch everyone. Could you give it another week for me? See if it'll be an option for if our parents react badly?"

"For you, Jazz, I'll give it another week, but I can't just trade one empty house for another."

"Thanks, little brother."

"Love you, Jazz, bye."

Danny hung up the phone and sighed, he new there was something off with his cousins, but he couldn't quite place it. Constantly napping, disappearing during the nights, but always on guard when they were awake.

He had a week to figure it out, but if he didn't there'd be no real lost love. He'd come up with some excuse, stay with Jazz for the summer or something. If his parents reacted badly and he didn't have this safety net, it'd be difficult sure, but Danny and Jazz would figure it out.

Danny thought it would be nice to have some other family that had his back for once, but hey, maybe he just had shitty luck when it came to blood relations.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

How are the gargoyles reacting when they first find out about Dragon and that they are lost clan? And how do they feel about Brooklyn being buddies with them?

How does Brooklyn feel when he finds out about Dragon being his...sibling, I guess? Cause he likes them sure, but he's not dumb. He knows there is a wall there. They like him and enjoy his company, but they hide a lot from him and for good reason. Do the reasons no longer matter now that they are family in his eyes, or is he still conflicted on what is going to happen to the kind human who rescued him out of the water, simply because it was the right thing to do?

Goliath, watching Reader and Brooklyn hang out from far away: I don't trust them.

Goliath, seeing Reader glare at someone: Omg, that's my child. I didn't trust my child. What is wrong with me?

Okay, good questions!

One, when they find out Reader (Dragon) is lost clan, they're now trying to get them to join but aren't taking no for an answer. They feel they should have realized sooner.

They react to Brooklyn amd Reader being buddies with suspicion, as it seems odd a human would save one of their's... But then again, this human also goes out of their way to spend time with Brooklyn, and don't bother asking him questions about the clan, if anything, theu avoid those questions... They'd much rather ask his favorite color, or how high he can climb, or if he wants to see a few statues in the park... So they begrudgingly will have them watch out for them... Except seeing such a small human, a young one too, on their own... It doesn't sit right with them... Were they abandoned? Or cast out? Is anyone looking out for them? Hmmmm... They'll need to keep a closer eye on them then... Perhaps Elisa or Matt or Xanatos or Fox can talk with them, find out what's going on...

Brooklyn finds it a bit spooky, or world-shaking, that Dragon, his odd friend, is also one of his lost hatchmates from a thousand years ago, the one that was murdered... On the one hand, that's spooky and scary and feels too close to the Magus and magic for comfort... On the other hand, they're someone he used to know and love, so that means they aren't lost forever, he can see them again, they're back! ... But on the third hand, what about, well, Dragon? They're their own person or gargoyle or whatever they are now, and he loves them too. He doesn't want them to stop being Dragon, but he also wonders if they'd remember him or their other brothers or Goliath and Hudson amd Demona... He feels it's like with Elisa amd Xanatos and Fox and Matt, right? Sure, they're human NOW, but they used to be gargoyles, they just have those memories buried... So nothing has to be given up or sacrificed to have both, right? All in all, he feels very confused and worries if there's any right choice for this matter...

Of course he knows he and Dragon aren't completely honest with each other. They avoid talking about where they live or their families or what goes on when they aren't seeing each other and playing around or trying to find new places to hang out and look for stuff. He knows they fear the others, and that there's a slight fear of him... but he feels the same towards them. So it's fair, right? It isn't healthy exactly to worry so much about what could hurt them or come after the both of them... but they tend to push that aside and try to do something fun. Climbing brick walls or old statues, see who can find a hidden item the fastest, challenge each other to hide and seek, and every now and again go fishing... So no, maybe they're not completely honest... but for what it's worth, he likes them, and they like him. They're both trying, and that's all they can do. He appreciates they don't talk about him to other humans much... but he can't help but tell Goliath and the others about them. He worries about them, especially since while sure, it's fun to have someone who isn't afraid to wrestle or jump from heights or climb things, that isn't normal human behavior, is it? And where do they go when he leaves? Are they safe? Are they warm? Are they eating? So he found it best to voice those concerns to the others... He just hopes it doesn't come back to bite him...

Goliath and the others grow just a bit fonder each time they hear a new escapade that Brooklyn and his odd human friend went on, and start to grow worried themselves. Perhaps they need to finally step in... Make themselves known... Or at least offer shelter if they're in need of it...

What they don't expect is to smell the scent of clan on them, or how their glare and their laugh sound like Goliath's... or how small they are, compared to the world around them...

[witchygagirlwrites]

Broken Bonds-Part 25

Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz x Reader, (Eventual) Jay Halstead x Hailey Upton

While Mouse is at training intelligence tackles a case that helps you figure out that something might have been helping yours and Jay's friendship reform. (Upstead rises?)

A new balance meant so many things for your life. Mouse fully being back in it for one, yeah he was in Georgia currently but you talked to him every morning and every night. He’d text you throughout the day and both of you now used the video call option on your phone regularly. It also meant Addy getting used to spending nights split between your place and Jay’s.

You knew that the one and one thing wouldn’t hold when she got older but for now? She was young enough it didn’t bother her any, besides the fact that the dark circles under his eyes had faded in the last couple weeks and his smile was starting to return meant the world to you. He’d even started to joke around with you at work again, you knew things weren’t back to where they were and there was a chance they would never be but he was trying and you loved him for that.

Jay had Addy the night before so waking up was a bit of a struggle without hearing her over the monitor. You stretched out your muscles, the gym was very much calling your name. That heavy bag needed hitting. Maybe Hailey or Stella would want to go with you? You reached for your phone about the time a text came through and you smiled when you saw the photo of Mouse with his longer hair he’d sent you before he’d had to get it cut for training pop up before you clicked the message Good morning to the most beautiful detective that ever walked. I love you. Have a good day. Stay safe you shook your head and texted back Don’t know about the most beautiful but from you I’ll take it. I love you too. Call me tonight? His response came through almost immediately Of course. Give Addy a hug from me

You sent a text to Stella and Hailey to ask if one or both wanted to go to the gym with you then got up to get ready.

Once you were dressed you came back to the text thread with the two to see Stella had texted Sorry honeybee early meeting at the station but Hailey had texted I’ll meet ya there Wifey 

You replied to Stella telling her to have a good day and you loved her then asked Hailey when she wanted to meet.

“It actually does feel better starting the day” Hailey laughed as the two of you walked up the stairs into the bullpen. Jay looked up from the file he was reading over and raised an eyebrow “Do I want to know here or?” you grinned “I took her to the gym with me, introduced her to the beauty of beating the hell out of the heavy bag before work” 

He looked from you to Hailey “That’s terrifying. The two of you, tore loose in a boxing gym” She laughed “What is it Halstead? Worried we may team up on you?” he shook his head “No, I know better than pissing either of you off” she grinned “Good. I’d hate for Addy to know her daddy got his ass kicked by her mommy and her auntie Hayhay”

He cut his eyes at you “Auntie Hayhay?” you shrugged “Everyone has kind of figured out she’s narrowing in on talking age or first words age and so they’re shortening or making their names easier” he looked back at Hailey then nodded slowly “Ok then”

Adam raised his hand “How the hell do I shorten Adam?” you shook your head “Easy, Ruz” he shrugged “I’ll take it” Kevin grinned “She gonna want her uncle Kev anyways Ruzek so don’t worry about it”  the two of them started in on who would be her favorite uncle out of the unit and you shook your head. 

You caught Jay’s eye and he smiled “They’re idiots but they love our daughter. That’s what counts right?” you smiled “Like you said we built her a strong family” for the first time since he found out you’d slept with Mouse again you didn’t see pain in Jay’s eyes when he looked at you.  “I think we’re doing pretty well for her” 

“Didn’t I teach you most of this crap?” you asked Kevin, tossing a ball up piece of paper at his head before glancing back at your computer screen. You caught his grin out of the corner of your eye “Yeah but you’re better at it” 

You spun around as your mouth fell open “No sir! We do not do weaponized incompetence around here! Get your ass to this screen!” you pushed away from your desk and he laughed before scooting his chair around to take your place. You watched him go through the programs, making sure he hit all the right steps. You finally had someone you could call if you got stumped, he couldn’t run it but he could talk you through other ways.

A ding chimed from your computer and you clapped your hands “Lookie there Kev. You did it all by yourself” he shook his head with a laugh “I love you but you’re kind of mean to me at times” you shrugged “But you love me, that’s what counts”

You walked over to lean over him and look at the screen “So much for his ass not being anywhere near the crime scene. He lights up the board. His phone and his car frequented the area. We just tripped him up on one lie, lets see what other lie Jay and Hailey can trip him up on”

__________

You stood up and walked back to the interrogation room they had the suspect in and opened the door “Can I speak with one of you?” Jay and Hailey glanced up then at each other. They shrugged “He isn’t going anywhere” then they both stood to follow you out into the hallway.

You glanced back towards the closed door of the room before saying “We just rolled his ass up in one lie. He lit up the board for the crime scene surrounding area, almost like he was scoping it out leading up to the drugs rolling into town” “That makes him seem alot higher up on the food chain than we originally thought” Jay said and you nodded “Which makes me think, if he was why would he lie. Most of em are cocky about it. This guy was scared almost. I think you two may be able to take this and flip him. Get us a meeting and access to the man actually bringing in the fentanyl” Hailey winked at you “We’ll get him to flip babe” Jay nodded “Just give us a little time sweetheart. We’ll have this asshole ready to give us everything”

You watched them walk back in and hoped like hell they flipped him. This was what you needed, a man on the inside. So far this crap had killed half a dozen but the number of OD’s were increasing daily. The crap wasn’t cut, it was too freaking strong and what was cut was done so with crap like bug repellant. This guy was an ass but the guy he was working for? He was a fucking bitch and you meant that in the absolute worst way possible.

_____________

You walked back out to your desk, everyone turning their eyes at you as if you were supposed to know right then and there what was going on. You sat down and started checking your emails. You were halfway through clearing them out when Hailey and Jay came walking out of the back hallway. You cut your eyes up at Jay and he gave a slight nod. They flipped him. The unit now had a snowball’s chance in hell of getting this crap off the street. 

“What now?” you asked and Hailey sighed “He needed buyers” you desperately didn’t want to go back under and knew Jay felt the same. “We’ll do it” Kim offered and you cut your eyes at her “What?” she nodded “Me and Adam or me and Kev. We can do it” Yeah like that would make you feel better, not at all. Hailey shrugged “Said he likes rich white couples with security guards. Sounds to me like all three of you may be able to do this” 

“What about me?” you asked and Jay pointed between him and Hailey “You’ll be in the surveillance van with us. We’ll be recording the buy and wanting to call in backup when it’s all going down” you nodded “Ok, sounds like a plan. Who’s telling Voight?” “Tell me what?” Hank asked from Jay and nearly made all of you jump in surprise. 

“Guy flipped. He’s willing to play the middle man and get us a meet. Ideal clientele is rich white couples rocking security” Hailey explained. He nodded “Kim, Kev and Ruzek?” “Yes sir” you replied. “Ok. Run with it”

You laughed, chasing Addy across the living room. She’d started crawling and was already a professional at putting you through your paces. “Adeline Halstead! Come your little butt back here!” she giggled harder. She was mumbling as she crawled, different sounds coming out. Leave it up to you and Jay to produce a kid that turned out to be an early crawler and looked like she was going to end up being an early talker too. 

Her dark curls bounced along with her and you laughed as she made it to the pillows you’d laid out. You could only imagine when she started walking. When you picked her up from daycare Chloe had warned that she was being a little menace with the crawling. Jay had a bruised shin from chasing her and catching the corner of the wall but then again he somehow worried more than you did. She had been a daddy’s girl since she started moving and it seemed like that would never change, not that you wanted it to. You adored how much Jay loved her. That man was the most amazing father you’d ever seen.That was why you were working so hard on a balance, on fighting to rebuild your relationship with Mouse and your friendship with Jay. The love you held for them both was too important to you.

“Addy! We can go meet hayhay for dinner!” you called out and she stopped to look at you. You tilted your head to the side. “Baby girl? Do you like hayhay?” she giggled and you laughed “I’ll be damned. Did Hailey just win when it comes to people outside me, daddy and stelstel?”

She started crawling back to you and you held your arms out for her “Come on baby” she made it to you and fell against your thigh. “Oh my big girl!” you cooed, scooping her up.

__________________

“I won!” Hailey grinned from across you where she sat in the booth holding Addy who was picking at the pasta you’d gotten her. “I knew you were going to rub that in” she nodded “Oh I’m calling Jay as soon as I leave here! Baby girl recognized my name?” you laughed “Or she recognized the word dinner or was just tired of the game” she shook her head “Nope, she wanted her hayhay” she leaned over to nuzzle her nose at Addy’s chest “Isn’t that right little miss?”

Addy laughed and you felt your heart jump hearing it. Hailey was so fucking adorbale being so happy at something that honestly could be a coincidence but you were not about to take it from her. No way, no shape no form were you going to try to diminish anyone who found that much joy in thinking your daughter had a recognition of them.

“She knows who takes care of her daddy in the field, same reason she likes uncle Kev” you laughed and Hailey nodded “Exactly. Uncle Kev protects mommy and Hayhay keeps daddy in one piece”

_______________

After dinner you could already hear Hailey calling Jay as you loaded Addy into your jeep. “Jay! Addy recongized my name! She wanted me!” she bragged and you shook your head as you buckled Addy in then closed her door to turn to see Hailey grinning brightly. You couldn’t hear his side of the conversation but her smile and the look in her eyes stopped you mid words forming on your lips. That didn’t look partner calling partner happy, did it?

Was Hailey starting to develop feelings for Jay? You’d been back with Mouse for almost two months, they worked together daily, you knew first hand Jay was an amazing man.  You would not be nosy, nope. Her smile though, that warmed your heart. Seeing anyone find happiness in this world? It was worth it.

“Night Hails. Tell Jay I said night” you called out and she waved “Night wifey. Love ya and Jay says night” you climbed in your jeep and buckled up before turning the engine over. She headed for her car and you headed home.

______________

Addy was already fast asleep and you were sitting in your bed when your phone rang with a video call. You swiped to answer and a smile slipped onto your face the moment you saw Mouse “Hey baby” “Hello beautiful. Where’s little miss? Already asleep?”

You nodded “She’s crawling so much. Jay has a bruise the entire length of his shin from slamming into the wall” he grimaced “Damn, though doesn’t surprise me when it comes to her. He’d do anything to try to keep her safe” you felt your heart flip hearing him talk so fondly about Jay.  “How’s things in the peace state?” you asked and he groaned “I’m ready for this to be over already. I’m relearning so much crap I already knew just so they can say I know it. I want to be home full time in Chicago”

You felt a smile slip onto your face “Why Mr Gerwitz, it sounds like you got someone you want to get home to” he grinned “Oh yeah. She’s gorgeous, detective with the CPD. Got the cutest kid and to be honest? There’s not a lot that could keep me from coming home to her” “Wow,not even two months back together and it's that serious?” you teased and he shrugged “Two months back together but she’s had my heart from the moment I laid eyes on her”

You felt your heart flip “I love you Greg, so damn much” “I love you too sweetheart, so damn much” you and him ended up talking for the better part of an hour before he had to go. After you hung up with him and plugged your phone in you went and checked on Addy then crashed yourself. The initial meet was scheduled for the following day.

Why the hell did the surveillance van feel like it was so damn small? Oh yeah, the new one had less space in the back and more equipment. The more equipment part was a really good thing, the less room part was proving to be a really bad thing. 

You had helped Kevin wire Kim and Adam then wired Kevin yourself back at the precinct. It wouldn’t pick up on most equipment unless they had some N.S.A. shit going on. You, Jay and Hailey had gotten here and parked to get into position and to triangulate getting patrol in the areas they needed to be in should things go south and your people need an extraction.

You and Jay were sitting in the back of the van, watching the multiple monitors of the country club, yes country club where the meet was happening. Hailey had slipped out to talk to Voight. “This place costs more than my jeep did every freaking month” you mumbled and Jay laughed “It costs more than your jeep and you can’t even get a burger” you nudged his shoulder with yours “That���s what I’m saying!” and saw a smirk slip onto his face. Every time you managed to get a smile or the slightest of reaction out of him you felt like you’d won the damned lottery. Rather you were meant to be with him or not you had so much love in your heart for the man next to you, you truly loved him and the time you’d spent with him barely able to look at you? Barely speaking to you outside of it having to deal with your daughter? It had torn your heart apart.

____________

The back door cracked open and Hailey slid in “Seller just arrived. Six patrol cars are in place” she closed the door and looked around at the limited space before shrugging and sliding into your lap. You reshifted your hips to comfortably support her weight and slipped your arms around her waist to still be able to type.

Jay sat staring at the two of you until you both slowly turned your head to look at him “Yes Mr Halstead?” he motioned with his hand between the two of you “Why does this continue to happen at every given chance? Every time I turn around one of you is on the other or you’re cuddling?” You grinned at him from around Hailey’s back “Are you wanting to sit in my lap Jay?” he shook his head “No thanks sweetheart” and turned his eyes back to the screen so you asked “Or are you wanting Hailey to sit in yours” and saw a blush creep up his neck but before either of them could say anything else the sell started happening. 

All of you turned your eyes to the screen and you pulled Hailey’s radio off her hip “Patrol be ready” “Copy that”

The initial meeting turned into the seller wanting Kim and Adam to come with them to their warehouse which was exactly what you wanted. “Patrol, we're on the move. Keep ears on the radio for your new positioning” you spoke across the radio as Jay went to the front to drive the van and Hailey hopped out to go hop in with Voight.

With any luck this thing would be wrapped within a couple hours and the fentanyl would never get the chance to hit the streets of Chicago.

___________________

You stood between Jay and Voight as all of you geared up behind his SUV. Kim had changed into the change of clothes you bought her because she’d been stuck in a dress. “We go in fast, hit em hard and clear em out. We know what we’re doing. Get it done” 

You bumped Kevin’s shoulder as you took your long gun from Jay “Let’s get it” he nodded “I got you” 

The total amount seized between drugs and money recovered was two point six million. A big haul even for intelligence. The haul wasn’t what mattered, hell the bust wasn’t really what mattered. Getting the damned dope out of the street. That was what mattered. No more people would be dying from this particular asshole.

You were heading out to your jeep when you heard Jay calling you. You turned to see him headed your way “Don’t you need to get going to pick our daughter up?” he nodded “I was going to ask if you wanted to get dinner with us. Talk about Halloween?” you smiled “I’d love to. Where are we eating?”

__________

You and Jay were sitting in a corner booth, both of you turned with a knee bent on the seat and Addy between you “Is Mouse coming home that weekend?” he asked and you cut your eyes up, you understood Mouse still being a sore subject between you and Jay but he smiled slightly “I’m just asking sweetheart, no ulterior motive. I’m trying, not just for her. I miss you. I miss this, us being able to just be us without it being weird. We have been in each other’s lives for so long I don’t know how to not have you in my life like this”

You smiled “I miss you too Jay. I love you, you’re my best friend and mean the absolute world to me. He has the option to fly home that weekend” he nodded “I think he should. If he’s going to be in your life, he’s going to be in hers””Ok. I’ll tell him” you said and he nodded then a grin worked its way onto his face “How do we shorten Mouse anyways? Mou?” 

You barked out a laugh, not only at the question but from the look on his face “I guess? Whatever works” he shrugged. You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth before saying “Ya know on Halloween it would be me, Mouse, Kelly and Stella with you. Why don’t you see if Hayhay wants to come too?” his eyes flew up to yours and you grinned “Just as your partner and friend and as someone who loves our daughter of course” you clarified with a wink.

The smile he gave you made your heart flip. God you loved the fact that Addy had gotten his smile. You had always hoped she would. “I’ll ask her” you grinned “Good. I’ll find the costumes” his eyes widened “Dear lord I forgot about agreeing to that” you laughed and laid a hand on his knee with one bracing Addy’s hip as she danced with the music in her head apparently because the restaurant played none “Too late. Do you love me?” he nodded “You know I do” 

“Then you have to trust me” you laughed and he shook his head “Sweetheart I fear every time you have ever told me to trust you”

@desimarie12

@allisonargent144

@nevaehstreater18

@alexisquinnlee-bc

[fandoms-x-reader]

Mother Figure

Oneshot

Requested By: @ambitiouslady

Summary: Lucifer and his brothers with an MC where Lucifer acts as the strict father figure and MC acts as the gentle mother figure. Lucifer x Reader (Romantically) The Other Demon Brothers x Reader (Familial) Word Count: 1,322

A/N: The reader is referred to as a mother figure but there are no feminine pronouns.

When you first got to the Devildom, you had no idea what was in store for you. You had no idea what to expect in a situation where a human has to live with a group of demons and has to adjust to their way of living.

You didn’t expect to grow so close to the demon brothers and you didn’t expect them to be such troublemakers either.

Sometimes, they would try to involve you in their schemes, but most of the time, you were the one they came to after their plan inevitably failed or when Lucifer caught them. They found solace in you.

Lucifer would give them a long and terrible lecture about their wrongdoings while discussing their punishment.

And when he was finally done with his scolding, they would seek out comfort from you.

You had a way of always putting them at ease. Even though, most of the time, you agreed with Lucifer.

Sometimes the brothers were a bit too reckless and you knew that most of the time, Lucifer’s lectures came from a place of deep care for his brothers. He didn’t want anything to happen to them. And in this mind, the only way to stop them from doing it again was to punish them.

He didn’t see that his punishments didn’t work as effectively as he wished. Luckily, he had you there to help emphasize his point.

You would gently reproach their actions, telling them everything that could go wrong before defending the things Lucifer was saying.

The difference was, they actually listened to you. You had a way of getting through to them - something Lucifer was envious of and something he admired very deeply.

The way that you took care of his brothers (and him) and never complained made him fall for you more and more every day.

You were someone he respected and someone he could depend on and that was something that Lucifer was sorely missing in his daily life.

Before long, you and Lucifer were acting in sync as honorary parents to the brothers. And with your help, some order was restored to the House of Lamentation.

Mammon would go to the casino, but he wouldn’t stay out all night or gamble away every last dime he had. And you even got him to turn his assignments in on time.

Levi had learned to spend more time out of his room, actually interacting with the people he called his family. And he cut back on his spending on Akuzon.

Satan still liked to keep to himself, but he noticed that Lucifer was much more tolerable whenever you were with him.

Asmo used to stay out multiple nights at the club and would return when he felt like it; but, after expressing your concerns, he made sure to come home at a reasonable time.

Beel learned to control his ravaging of the fridge and pantry. He was rewarded by your delicious cooking whenever he resisted his temptation, and he came to learn that was always better than eating anything and everything.

Belphie was able to stay awake at least to do the important things - like school and chores. You couldn’t even remember how long it had been since he and Satan came up with an Anti-Lucifer League scheme.

And Lucifer couldn’t remember a time when he had been happier. It was like you came into his life, picked up all of the pieces, and fixed everything. 

In his mind, you were the perfect addition to the family, and the way you loved all of them - the way you loved him - meant everything to him.

For once, Lucifer could admit that things were nearly perfect. But then, his brothers went missing.

It had been two days since either of you heard from them and the worry lines were about to become permanent on your faces.

You did your best to try and comfort Lucifer and keep him calm as you both searched for them. But, he was teetering on a very fine line of losing his mind, and to be honest, so were you.

You needed to find them - quickly. Because you were sure that Lucifer would uproot all three realms to find them if he had to.

He continuously reached out to his connections around the Devildom while you continued to text and call the brothers - hoping one of them would eventually answer.

Then one day, as you were noticing the dark circles under Lucifer’s eyes from lack of sleep, the front door to the House opened. 

You held your breath as you both rushed to the door and watched as all six of his brothers walked in with sheepish expressions on their faces.

You were relieved, just glad they were okay, and you immediately approached them to hug them.

As you did, you noticed they were injured and you ushered them into the living room to tend to their wounds.

As you passed by Lucifer, you noticed the look of anger on his face and you braced yourself for the long lecture that he was about to give.

And long was an understatement. You felt like Lucifer went on for years as he harshly scolded them.

You did your best to interject with phrases like, “We were really worried about you,” and, “It would kill us if something happened to you.”

By the time you were done patching up their wounds, Lucifer was done talking and walked off to go to his room for the night.

You gave them all a small smile and they could feel the love you had for them without you having to state it.

They didn’t say it often enough but they were so grateful that of all the choices, you were the human that came into their life.

“Get some rest,” you told them gently, knowing they all desperately needed it. They looked exhausted. And you could always talk more tomorrow.

You watched them all go to bed before heading up to Lucifer’s room. You knocked softly but he already knew who it was before you did.

He invited you in and when you entered, you saw him sitting on his bed, his usual vest and tie off. You noticed he looked a bit more relaxed now as his shirt was somewhat unbuttoned and his hair was a bit messier than usual.

You came to sit by him on the bed and he looked at you, his black and red eyes shining with love for you.

“They’re okay,” you told him and he let out a deep breath in response. You swore you could physically see the tension release from his muscles as the feeling of relief flooded his body.

He wasn’t good at admitting it. He believed he always had to keep up the strong and strict personality of the first-born. But, he was worried.

You gently took his hand in yours and you couldn’t help but smile as you thought about him.

“What is it?” he asked, noticing the way your lips had turned upwards. “You’re a great big brother,” you replied, in a gently teasing voice.

Lucifer let out a scoff but you could see the blush rise to his cheeks and for once, he didn’t have the energy to deny your allegations.

To take the attention off himself he gently stroked your cheek and told you, “I’m lucky to have you. We all are.”

He smirked as you were now wearing a blush of your own before gently placing his lips on yours. “Thank you,” he said barely above a whisper as he intensely gazed into your eyes, making your heart skip a beat.

And it was in those moments that you felt lucky to have them.

[carefulfears]

how do you see mulder leaving in season 9? scully giving up william? how do they deal with these things? (their guilt, resentment, futility, etc)

i know i have a realllllllly unpopular opinion on all of this but as i've said recently, i just don't think there's anything easier on earth to convince mulder of than "things are safer if you're not here."

i usually come back to doggett's confusion in the beginning, the way he keeps asking and arguing and scully just keeps saying "he's gone" and shutting it down, until the end of the premiere when he realizes: "oh my god. it was scully. scully made him go."

god, it's sad. it's hard to talk about. i teared up trying to write this, as much as i am fonder of the storyline than most. i don't find it unrealistic or out of character or unfitting of the narrative. it doesn't mean i don't feel it's heartbreaking. i have such a hard time thinking of mulder missing that baby. not even having the chance to put up a fight, walking back into empty rooms. the show as a tragedy, finding your burden again, etc. the x-files as the gap between teary smiles at baby kicks to screams in a jail cell. as what it was in the beginning: unknowable answers to insurmountable grief.

and i just think about mulder's dramatic emails, writing that he doesn't think he can survive being away from them. spender looking at the baby and telling scully he's heard "so much" about him. mulder being tortured by soldiers, saying he's just thinking about his son. keeping 1 baby photo for 15 years. "i just missed both of you so much."

scully's fertility treatments and her prayers and her tears and her "last chance" and her miracle. and how deeply unfair it is, what happened to her. i don't think a single one of us could say what we could do if people kept breaking into our homes to suffocate a child we were still nursing. she didn't ever want to do it alone, that was never the plan.

but scully desperately wants to keep everybody safe. she thinks she’s keeping everybody safe. it’s hard to be starbuck. it's this conflict i keep talking about recently where you really start to notice how controlled she is by fear, how difficult it is for her to balance it all. my favorite visual on this is the gate at the house in i want to believe: every day the way she pulls up to it, gets out, opens it, pulls through, stops, gets out, closes it. repeat in reverse. and then she comes home and she says "the truth is, i worry about you." and that he's too isolated. turns around and shuts the door, leaves the house and locks the gate.

i wrote a bit a few weeks ago about scully's protectiveness and it made me think about what a trap it can be, how defending lends to fear and fear lends to defeat. to standing in a church 25-years deep and saying "i failed." in the tags of that post i asked "could they ever recover from her exiling him from being with their child because she was afraid it would kill him?" and said i don't know. and i don't, i don't know.

but i think there's something so brave in saying: i did the best i could, and maybe that wasn't right. it's why ghouli is one of my favorite episodes. scully sobbing to her son that she's sorry. she's sorry he doesn't know them. she wanted him, they loved him. "i was trying to keep you safe. i hope you know that." and she thought she was being strong, but maybe she was wrong.

things don't always shake out the way you want them to. it was always mulder that called their son a miracle, and mulder doesn't believe in miracles. mulder believes in the world, and the search, and the after.

[br1ghtestlight]

big bob saying that his grandkids are the reason he's hopeful and believes in the future bcuz he knows they're smart enough to fix things...... he loves them so much and does anyone even CARE

[angelsdean]

Jack: Yeah, he-he wasn't all bad, my dad. Uh, that's what makes our parents loom so large in our heads, I think. They're… a million things to us all at once.

And even after they're long gone, we're stuck with them. Can't help it. They're inside of us. You know, my whole life, I promised myself I'd be nothing like him, but…I ended up just like him.

Kevin: No, Dad. You're way better than him.

Jack: Thank you, my son. And you're gonna be way better than me.

— 5x07, This Is Us

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Dorian Pavus

[butteryunlikelylady]

definitely on my I hate men bs tonight bc why are y’all like that.

[personapeters]

✰ 𝐛𝐟!𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐱 𝐩𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞!𝐠𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

— rich boyfriend rafe and his whole heartedly pogue girlfriend

rating: sfw — cw: none

— boyfriend!rafe who… actually gets annoyed when you spend your money instead of his: “look, baby, i know you can but why when i’m literally throwing my card at you?” he questioned. “i’m not taking it, rafe,” you rebutted. “yeah? okay, don’t,” he mumbled, casually dropping a banded stack of cash onto your lap.

— boyfriend!rafe who… absolutely judged a book by it’s cover when you first met, knowing you were from a side of town he didn’t favor, but your beauty was something he couldn’t ignore. though, his outlook barely shifted; technically, not all pogues were trash, but he considered you to be the one and only exception.

— boyfriend!rafe who… is used to getting what he wants, so he was highly taken aback when you declined his first offer to go out. it was new and completely foreign, but it only made him want you even more — he’s always had a desire to obtain the ‘unobtainable’

— boyfriend!rafe who… caught so much shit from topper and kelce when they found out about his relationship with a pogue; so much so that rafe almost fought them over it, telling them to ‘get the fuck over it’ and to never speak on you again.

— boyfriend!rafe who… on occasion would reluctantly let your pogue friends go out on his yacht with the two of you for the day, which ultimately would end with him dropping them off an hour (or four) early. he wants them miles away from his pristine boat but loves how happy you look when you were all together.

— boyfriend!rafe who… hears you mention liking something once and makes sure it’s in your hands before the following day ends. they were always simple things like a cute t-shirt or sunglasses, which, to him, were so cheap and mundane that he found it rather adorable when you’d cherish them like literal gold.

— boyfriend!rafe who… isn’t too fond of where you live — your house being small, somewhat falling apart, and overall something far below rafe’s standards. he wishes you’d take him up on his offer to simply get you an apartment on his side of town: “okay, but it’d be so much better for you… and you’d be closer to me,” he mumbled, a small smile pulling at the corners of his pink lips.

— boyfriend!rafe who… takes you riding on his dirt bike to go sightseeing across figure eight, often taking the long way home just to feel your arms wrapped around his waist for just a little longer. you once asked if you could drive it, which would have been your first time, to which he immediately said, “fuck no, what — you tryin’ to break your neck? no.”

— boyfriend!rafe who… tried his first ever boxed mac and cheese with you, as random as it was, after you insisted it’s the greatest inexpensive food on earth; him beforehand saying, “what? y/n, that’s fucking powder…” but after he tried a bite of yours, he reluctantly said, “it’s not that bad… i might see the appeal.”

— boyfriend!rafe who… gives you ‘ultimatums’ when buying you clothes (although, you always insist you don’t need them), saying he’ll get you whatever you want as long as you try on some of his picks first. he would have gotten whatever you wanted regardless, he just liked seeing you model for him, which, secretly, you knew.

— boyfriend!rafe who… buys you extremely expensive jewelry and lies about the price, saying it’s a hundred times cheaper than it is to avoid you trying to give it back. he enjoys watching the dainty bracelet on your wrist or gold studs in your ears glint in the sunlight, knowing that you’re clueless on that fact that they’re the nicest money could buy — he needs only the best for his girl.

— boyfriend!rafe who… truly hated physical touch until you showed him it could be gentle — that it could be sweet, and warm, and kind, and didn’t have to leave him bloody or sore. he loves when you run your nails gingerly across his scalp or hold his hand in your lap, twisting absentmindedly at the rings adorning his long fingers; a type of touch (and love) he’d never felt before

— boyfriend!rafe who… craves your validation, no matter how big or small. he just needs to hear that he did something right, something good, something you’re proud of. he wants to hear you tell him he did a great job at making you dinner or picking out a dress for your spontaneous outings — your approval means so much more to him than you’d ever know.

— boyfriend!rafe who… uses his high status to (begrudgingly) help your pogue friends get out of whatever trouble they land themselves into, knowing it means alot to you and takes a weight off your shoulders: “m’doing this for you, alright? not them, you.”

— boyfriend!rafe who… is pretty heavy on pda. he doesn’t care whose watching when he lazily drapes a possessive arm around your shoulders, or when he kisses you messily with full force; whether it be a kook or pogue witnessing his shameless affections, he didn’t care — who’d dare to say something about it?

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