#i guess this means i just... love Dash & Lily
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summary: in which the sweet ache of yearning metamorphoses into the art of intimacy and knowing.
idol!jk x reader, est. relationship / fluffy fluff, a dash of angst, explicit content (minors dni!!) / word count: 10.5k
warnings/content: divided into seven parts. it’s like a timeline hehe <3 ; mainly in jk’s pov!! ; underaged drinking (oc is 18 in that part but the legal age of drinking in sk is 19 so!) ; mention of almost? n*des (neither sent by our mcs) ; making out ; thigh grinding ; brief or*l (f. rec + allusions to m. rec) ; mention and allusion to s*x [yesyes it’s the first time] [oc may or may not cry a little too…] ; they have a ‘what if i die before you?’ discourse lmao
playlist! restless - bibi ; lily of the valley - daniel ; who do you love - the black skirts ; intro (end of the world) - ariana grande ; snow - josh makazo
> in which masterlist!
note: look at my gorjus ethereal bf !!!! anyway… hi, i’m back ^_^ here’s my not so little offering to those who’s been missing the iw couple <3 as always i’d love to hear your thoughts :") come chat!!
—
I. THE FALLING
“just stay the night.” you blurt out, turning to jungkook to express your worry. “i can’t let you leave right now. it’s not safe.”
his wide eyes scan the headline of the news once more.
heavy snowfall, road accident, several injured… versus staying the night at the apartment of not quite his friend, not quite his lover, for the first time.
he can’t deny that he favors the latter over the former with an explicable feeling rendering him breathless. still, he can’t allow his enthusiasm to cloud his better judgement. he knows he’s still somewhat of a stranger to you. he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome or make you feel uncomfortable in your own space.
“are you sure you’re comfortable with it?”
“sure. should i be worried?“
“no! uhm, i just thought not everyone would be comfortable to have a person they’re not very close with to sleep over.”
you chuckle, lightly bumping your shoulder against his. “chill. i have bigger things to be scared of than the guy who just cried with me while watching an anime movie.”
oh… he thought you were too absorbed in wiping your own tears to notice him crying too.
he slumps back on the sofa with a sigh. “i see. i guess we’re left with no choice then.”
“i have an extra toothbrush!”
—
jungkook doesn’t quite understand people’s obsession with his eyes, but getting enamored by the innocence that yours seem to glisten with, he wonders if he is experiencing the same case.
“can you see if this fits you?”
you stand before him with a stack of neatly folded clothes, unraveling a pair of gray sweatpants to hold up infront of him.
“i think… there’s a string? oh, there’s none.”
he chuckles. “you forgot?”
“well, it’s not mine. my ex never came back for his clothes.“ you huff with a roll of your eyes, muttering a silent his loss into the air. “i’ve washed it though! don’t worry! it’s just- you know- sleeping in denim pants is uncomfortable.”
does that mean you still wear the clothes of your exes? this pisses him off for some unknown reason. he would much rather sleep uncomfortably than wear their clothes.
you kindly smile, pushing the black knitted sweater against his chest. “but this is mine. it’s really warm and comfortable!”
but on another note, you’re too sweet and thoughtful. how could he ever say no?
—
the sweatpants is a little loose around his waist. your sweater, however, feels incredibly soft against his skin. as he walks back into the living room, he pulls down his sweater paws and runs his hands across its sleeves. if he had to describe the feeling it evokes, he would say it is very much similar to rolling around on freshly washed and dried bedsheets.
“it’s nice, right?”
he whips his head around upon hearing the sound of your voice. for a quick second, you caress his arm with the back of your hand, and even with the barrier separating your skin from his, the casual touch causes his breath to hitch.
“i finished cleaning the room. i set up a comforter on the floor so you can take the bed.”
“is that so? thank you!”
he zooms past you. you’re left standing alone, blinking in confusion. he is more than happy to welcome himself into your bedroom… so he can slyly steal the bed you prepared for yourself. he slides under the covers, makes himself all cozy with his hands resting on the back of his head as if it’s not a raging winter and he’s lying under the summer sun.
“and what do we have here?”
jungkook cracks one eye open. there you are leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed. you raise your eyebrows at him, demanding an answer.
“what?” he smiles childishly. “you’re the one doing me a favor. i’m not going to let you sleep on the floor.”
“how polite. suit yourself, sir.” you shake your head in amusement, smiling.
you enter the room, flicking the lightswitch off and locking the door at the speed of light. without thinking, probably; muscle memory formed by your routine. he is the only thing not a part of it. yet.
“goodnight, jungkook.”
“goodnight.”
he still sees you moving around in the dark. you crouch down beside him and he feels the extra pillow he’s partially crushing under his weight be jerked away all of a sudden.
“i need this one. sorry.” you whisper-shout apologetically. “goodnight! sweet dreams!”
—
jungkook sighs, tired of mindlessly scrolling through social media. his eyes flutter shut as he allows his phone to collapse on his chest. he is yet to even figure out if going to work later would be possible because of the blocked roads. he has gotten enough earful about not heading straight to the dorm and he cannot risk any more. because then, he would have to see less of you.
he sneakily opens his eyes, craning his head to the side to steal a glance of you, but he finds that you’ve already fallen asleep on your textbook and he’s unable to look away again. bathed in the warm light of the lampshade on your bedside, he has never seen you more peaceful. he learns with hard evidence that you’re a side sleeper, curled up underneath the blanket and cutely snuggled against the pillow you took from him.
he doesn’t know how long he’s been admiring you, but he knows he doesn’t want you to think of him as a creep. you stir in your sleep and his hand swiftly flies to his phone. pretending to be absorbed in reading the first tweet he comes across, he tries taking another subtle glimpse of you.
it’s as if he’s been caught and punished.
he flinches.
your textbook collides with the floor, landing only inches next to his pillow. he begins sweating. he could’ve easily gotten a concussion at best, death at worst.
he sits up with his elbows anchoring him, poking around to investigate the cause of the fall. admittedly, he’s a little sad to see your back now facing him.
“shit, what am i doing?” he roughly rubs his face to knock some sense back into him.
he needs to get some sleep. yeah, that’s it. nothing more.
he picks up your textbook, taking it upon himself to bring it over to your desk. on his way back, he also decides to to turn off the lampshade.
his finger freezes on the button, however. he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip to silence the giggle that threatens to escape him— so fucking endeared to discover that you’ve kicked off your blanket and rolled over to your other side along with the pillow, your thigh carelessly slumped over it.
he tucks himself back into bed, heart feeling all warm and fuzzy.
“so, so adorable.”
the words escape him without thought; the smile on his face ever-present even as he drifts off to dreamland.
—
II. ALLOW ME TO LINGER BY THE DOOR
“hey, it’s getting late. shouldn’t you be heading home by now?”
you sit beside jungkook on the sofa after a phone call, and his round eyes grow twice their size when you steal the iced tea from his grasp, nonchalant as your lips wrap around the same red straw his have been only seconds ago.
he awkwardly clears his throat, perhaps to mask his loud heartbeat. “is your friend okay?”
“oh, she’ll be fine. it’s her fault so i can’t do much for her this time.” you shrug, picking up your chopsticks as you eye the last dumpling in the bowl. “still hate that guy, though.”
“the one you think is lying about being rich?”
“i don’t know much about real ones, but i’m pretty sure i’ve seen enough fake diamonds!”
that seems to hits the right spot to elevate your mood. you hum happily as you chew, collapsing on the cushions and looking straight ahead at the television screen.
“sorry about that. you must be bored and tired by now.”
“about that…” jungkook swallows his nervousness. he rests his arm on top of the sofa, just to act cool. he’s so close to you yet still so distant. “i’m dead tired from filming today. i’ve been up since four in the morning. would it be too much trouble if i spend the night again?”
“i should be the one asking you that. why do you like this trashy place way more than i do?” you shake your head, wiping your mouth with a paper napkin. “i’ll go fix up so you can rest then. you’re lucky minji didn’t claim the bed first.”
fuck, he was supposed to get kicked out?
“wait! do you need a change of clothes?”
“there’s no need!” he replies a little too quickly. if he has to wear the clothes of another one of your exes, he might end up on the news for setting himself on fire. “i have extras in my backpack i didn’t got to wear today.”
“oh, okay.” you flash him a smile before disappearing into the bedroom.
yeah, how convenient.
he exhales through his mouth.
when did he start lying? his mother would be very disappointed in him. but on the other hand, his father would explode in boisterous laughter and pat him on the back. nevermind… that just makes it worse.
“guess i’m going to hell!” he shrugs, wearing a smile that is rather too jubilant.
he grabs his backpack on the floor and heads to the bathroom; your home is another home away from home.
—
jungkook is exhausted from dance practice. he must’ve exerted himself too hard again without realizing it. for the third time this week, he’s attaching pain relief patches to his neck and shoulders, shirt pulled to the side as to expose the area. normally, he’d just take it off without care, but he’s in a different setting. while he’s pretty confident with the current condition of his body, it would be rude to strip out of nowhere. and you make him nervous. would he fluster you or would you fluster him? he’s not prepared to find out yet.
“are you okay?”
his movements from below capture your attention amidst catching up to the events in your group chats.
“i’m okay, just a little sore. don’t worry!” he waves off your concern with a scrunch of his nose. “i also fell asleep in the car earlier so…”
“i can give you a massage. if you want.”
“no, it’s fine.” even though the offer sounds extremely tempting, especially coming from you. “i know you’re tired too.”
“hm, your loss. i’m kind of an expert at it.”
he squints his eyes at you. “really?”
“you don’t believe me?”
you sit up on the bed with an offended gasp, and he laughs at how you quite literally rose up to the challenge.
“we do have actual experts come in and take care of us too, you know that?”
“excuse you, i’m an actual expert! i have more than a decade of experience!”
he isn’t surprised to witness you climb down immediately afterwards, sitting behind him with your hands already on his shoulders.
“hmm, my dad worked at construction sites. my mom had a desk job. this- this was my job.” your fingers begin pressing down as if you’re assessing him, touching the bare skin of his still exposed shoulder. “got paid with extra allowance. making money was easy back then.”
“you’re so adorab- ah, ah, ah-” his sentence is cut short by his own self when you apply pressure on a big knot, gently massaging it in small circles to loosen the tightly wound muscle fibers. “fuck, it hurts… yeah, that’s good. don’t stop.”
he hears you snort, feels your forehead collapse on his back as vibrant giggles rack your body. a blush of red creeps up to his cheeks and he’s thankful that you can’t see his face.
he laughs along, belly aching. “okay, okay- i heard it! i should keep my mouth shut!”
“no no no, i won’t laugh anymore!”
“you’re still doing it right now!”
“i’ll stop!” you sniffle, laughed to the point of tears. you squeeze his shoulders. “just relax! you’re so tense here, see? no wonder it hurts.”
there’s no denying that his body is pushed to its limits everyday; he has grown accustomed of this kind of lifestyle and he doesn’t complain. you’re making him want to do it all the time, though. if it means getting pampered like this? hell yeah.
“it hurts here too. over- over here-” he reaches a hand to his back, patting the area that has been bothering him all day. “this part. will you make it go away, please?”
“here? your shoulder blade?”
“yes!”
“okay. tell me if i should go gentler or harder. i don’t want to hurt you.”
it’s his turn to snort. he shortly learns that was not a smart move.
“ah, ah, ah-” you pull at his ear and this time he moans in pain. “oh, come on! you gave that one away!”
“shut up! you’re not allowed to laugh too!”
—
he tries not to create more embarrassing sounds. at some point he begun to busy himself with his phone, but to no avail, there are occasional moans and grunts he can’t bite down because you weren’t lying about being a pretty damn good masseur. and then he does it on purpose once, just to hear you laugh again, because his being already feels a million times lighter and you show no signs of exhaustion or boredom.
“you have a mole here,” you casually observe. he feels a light touch on the side of his neck and the butterflies in his stomach become untamed. “it’s sexy.”
he blushes, caught off guard by the compliment. “thank you.”
“you’re welcome.” you hum.
the minutes pass by and he is no longer faking silence, however. all he can think about now is how he wishes that he was lying down for this. how long has it been? you’ve been definitely at it for almost an hour. he yawns, eyelids fighting to stay open but failing miserably.
“hey, wipe your drool.”
he blinks. your beautiful face greets him— for a second, he’s convinced that he has begun dreaming. with a mischievous grin, you lift the collar of his shirt to wipe the corners of his lips, and in a state of near delirium, he cackles.
“seriously, thank you… i-i don’t even know what to say. i really needed that.” he sighs, carelessly rubbing his heavy eyes. “i’ll treat you to dinner tomorrow. how about that?”
“sounds good. now go to sleep.” you pat his back before rising on your feet. “your head kept on dropping and i felt bad.”
“that happens a lot.”
“well, it’s bad for your neck. keep doing it and i’ll get more free dinners.”
the unmistakable sound of a kiss that follows, it suspiciously matches with the warmth that lingers on his cheek.
“goodnight!”
“goodnight…” he only manages to mumble.
his mind has gone off to space. you tuck yourself into your bed after turning off the lampshade while jungkook feels like he just got blasted to the moon. he needs to get out of here. STAT.
“i’ll go drink some water. do you want me to get you a glass?”
“no, i’m fine.”
he makes out your figure shuffling in the dark, snuggled closely to a pillow.
he nods, which you probably didn’t even see. he steps out of the room as quietly as possible, slowly closing the door as to produce the smallest click. he pads to the kitchen still feeling light, almost like he’s walking on a path made out of clouds. he pours himself a glass of cold water from the fridge, chugs it down to the very last drop.
he licks his lips as he sets down the glass on the counter. he sighs deeply. he can still feel the outline of your lips, sticky lip balm printed on his skin. is it normal that he couldn’t be bothered to wipe it off?
“totally worth going to hell for.” he muses, unaware of the smirk that has started playing on his lips.
he briskly washes the glass at the sink, wiping it dry with a towel before deposting it back into the rack.
as expected, you’ve already fallen asleep by the time that he returns. the light from the hallway casts a glow over your face and it’s a sight that is painfully intimate in its own peculiar way.
he can’t put a name to it, but whatever this feeling is, he likes it and he wants it to last.
and so, he lingers by the door for a few seconds more.
—
III. THE YEARNING
jungkook hisses your name with yet another curse, heart so close to jumping out of his chest. when you were on the phone incoherently begging him to take you home from the club, he expected to carry out a passed out person from his car to their apartment floor, which he found no problem with aside from the possibility of having to deal with them throwing up.
instead, he is struck by an unusual combination of amusement and distress. he has been running around trying to capture you as you spend your final bursts of energy ringing strangers’ doorbells. your exhilarated laughter echoes throughout the hallways. he must confess that he was laughing along with you the first time… until it started to get a little bit out of hand.
if someone recognizes him by chance, he would be beyond fucked.
“don’t- don't do it! stop it! please!” he finally manages to seize your wrist before it can reach another, forced to wrap his arms around your torso so you won’t escape from him again. “are you crazy? it’s 3am! people are sleeping!”
“that’s the point.” you mewl, looking back to him with a childish pout underneath the hood of your coat. “why are they sleeping? it’s when the ghosts come out. does no one ever think about ghosts’ feelings? because i do! if i were a ghost, i’d be lonely and crying right now!”
oh my god, what is happening?
“so let’s invite them and everyone for more drinks!” you jump up and down, his secure hold doesn’t hold a candle to your hypernese. “jungkook, i want to drink more! more more more! buy me!”
unfortunately, he doesn’t have the time to dwell on your cuteness. he hears a door click from behind and his instincts instantaneously kick in. oh shit, you actually fucking woke someone up. he sweeps you off your feet, clasping a hand over your mouth to mute your angry protests. he turns at a corner, trapping you against the wall.
a deep and manly voice fills the silence. “hello? who’s there?”
two pairs of eyes widen, staring at each other as if they can read minds through them. he notices the unsteady rise and fall of your chest; your heart must be beating as fast as his. he has to pull down his black mask to be able to breathe.
“you’re going to be the death of me.” he grumbles with a pointed look.
when you smile, he perceives it first through the palm of his hand before it reaches your eyes. only then does he fully register the dangerously close proximity between you.
dangerous because he wants to kiss you.
dangerous because you’d dare him to do it and his self-control has been reduced to a million cracks.
“ah, this prank again! fucking teenagers!”
and the door slams shut. you both flinch.
“that guy has a fridge full of beer!”
you are vexed, voice muffled but still clearly loud. you harshly paw at his forearm to remove his hand, and your pout finally comes into view.
“no, you’ve had enough! seriously, what am i going to do with you? huh? you shouldn’t even be drinking at all.” he blows a loud breath, frustratedly running his fingers through his hair. “how did you even get in the club? fake id? you have it, don’t you?”
you rush to defend yourself. “i’m only younger by a year and i don’t look like it! as if they actually care in those places. they only want money.”
he begins to question if the bloodshot of your eyes is solely because of the alcohol or you’re also on the verge of tears.
“why? are you mad at me?”
“no, i’m not mad. should i be?”
“…i don’t know. why do you even care about things like that? you’re not my boyfriend or my parent so i don’t need to explain myself to you.” you angrily ramble, wriggling out of the tight spot he had you trapped in.
and that felt like a fucking dagger to the heart.
“you know what? i-i can do this. i can take care of myself, so go home.”
“____, don’t be like this, please. you’re drunk.”
“i’m not drunk, just tipsy! you can go home!”
he runs after you, but you shrug him off and continue walking away, perhaps a little too fast. he curses himself when he catches up to you seconds too late, witnessing you fall over to the floor with a thump and a whimper.
“are you okay?! where does it hurt?!”
you shake your head profusely, but your hands gripping your ankle gives away the answers. he doesn’t press you further. without another word, he hooks an arm under your knees and the other under your back, swooping you from the floor. he stands up straight, adjusts your position slightly, and walks the path you attempted to travel alone in your intoxicated state.
perhaps he is mad. he went and abandoned his rest time when you said that you needed him, only for you to rudely send him home. he has the right to be mad, even just a little bit, despite the fact that he isn’t your boyfriend, right?
not that it matters.
you cling to his neck and it all melts away.
he glances down at you. a soft smile has replaced your frown. “oh, so now you’re happy again?”
“yes,” you tilt your head. “feels like i’m floating.”
“where’s your key?”
“huh?”
“your key-”
“oh!”
you dig out the item from the pocket of your coat. you proudly dangle it infront of his face along with the colorful keychains attached to it; the bear was gifted by yours truly from japan. he totally forgot that it existed. the last time he saw it was when he tossed it in the paper bag he gave you.
he’s not even your boyfriend. the two of you know that doesn’t make sense anymore.
—
after he sets you down on the sofa, he kneels on the floor to remove the heels from your aching feet. he gets the hang of it after unfastening the second strap. while he’s preoccupied, you strip off your coat to combat the increased temperature of your body.
“i need to pee.” you urgently kick off the heels as you rise on your feet.
jungkook looks up and forgets how to breathe. you are irresistibly gorgeous; the cherry red mid-thigh dress you’ve been hiding from him hugs your body so perfectly. he’s ensnared and thoroughly convinced that you’re aware of your power to leave men and women alike sweating and tongue-tied.
goddammit, he is mad. you were at the club looking like this among flashing lights and grinding bodies and he is not your boyfriend.
“doesn’t your ankle hurt?”
“doesn’t matter. i need to pee.”
he clicks his tongue as you limp your way towards the bathroom.
“you’re so hardheaded.”
he lifts up your arm to bring it over his shoulders; he holds your waist to assist you.
“and your heart is so soft.” you giggle, and his world stops when you hold his face… peppering his cheek with an amount of kisses he doesn’t have half the mind to count.
you said you’re not drunk, just tipsy. does that mean you genuinely like him this much and you’ll remember it when you wake up?
dear god, he hopes so.
—
jungkook is supposed to wake up in four hours. however, he’s still wide awake sitting by your pillow, mind completely blank on what he’s supposed to do now that you’re safe and sound. he can’t bring himself to leave just yet. you bump against his knee as you shuffle and squirm, eyes closed but yet to land in the confines of slumber. he can hear your rugged and frustrated breathing, can’t help but to hopelessly adore how pretty you are even with knitted eyebrows and tousled hair.
he likes you so much. he knows it hasn’t been that long since you met but the thought of losing the chance of winning you over makes him want to cry and throw a tantrum. you’re running in his mind day and night. you have permeated all his senses. you charm him with your unapologetic existence and you effortlessly captivate his ungiven affections.
when it comes to love, his passion becomes a weakness.
a whine emits from your parted lips as if you sense that something is wrong. your hands pat around the mattress— searching and searching, until they stumble upon him. you push yourself up, head landing on the pillow, and your arms, they hug him close by his waist. only then do you finally come to a still, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.
you are at peace and he is experiencing an emotional turmoil— falling in love. this is simply not fair.
the lines are becoming so blurry. he is losing control of his hands, hyperaware of what he is capable with his possession of them. he strokes your head gently, hair brushing across his palm— this is soothing to him as much as it is you.
this feels right, he thinks. he wants time to stretch from this galaxy to another.
he feels a weak tug at his sweater.
“i’m cold now,” your complaint comes out mumbled against the thick fabric.
next thing he knows you’re pulling him down by his collar, leaving him with no choice but to lie down beside you as to not crush you under his weight. where the hell did you gather the strength to do that?!
he hisses in panic. “yah! what are you doing?”
“i’m cold,” you repeat.
“____, we’re lying down on the blanket. if you can just scoot over for a seco- i’ll take it out. move-”
his attempts on communicating to you only fall on deaf ears. he zips his mouth to admit defeat.
you cling to him for warmth, and jungkook finds himself giving more than that. he volunteers his arm to be your pillow, softly cupping the back of your head as you nuzzle your face on his chest; his other arm wraps around your torso to keep you close. it is quite a tight fit on a single bed— he figures out a lame excuse for later.
now he can say for certain that you’re hearing his heartbeat, but he doesn’t seem to care anymore. he also doesn’t mind the scent of alcohol because it’s tragically losing the battle against your sweet perfume. it renders him enchanted. and the dress… that hypnotizing dress. he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to banish the sinful thoughts flooding his imagination.
he didn’t peg you to be the physically affectionate type, but seeing that you can’t sleep without hugging something, someone— he wants to be just the thing that you cherish as your safe haven. he wants this memory to be cute… and romantic. but too much heavy on the romance, you affect his body and heart in ways no one can.
he tries to will his growing erection to ebb away. it’s not an appropriate situation. he likes and respects you too much.
“my makeup…”
you said it so quietly, he almost believed he was making it up in his head.
“what was that?”
“will you- please, will you help me take off my makeup? it’s bothering me.” you make one final request at the depths of drowsiness, speech slurred and stuttered. “the wipes… the drawer behind you.”
he should’ve thought of that. he’s learning. next time, he will.
he settles into his previous position after grabbing the wipes.
“how do i help? is it okay if i d-”
he interrupts his question when he realizes that you’ve finally fallen asleep.
his sigh momentarily fills the defeaning silence of the night. the exhaustion has also begun to take a toll on him. he’s going to have to catch up on sleep during car rides and set breaks. he’s already dreading it as he’s planning around their hectic schedule.
as he wipes off your makeup as carefully as possible, he mutters into the thin air. “you owe me a massage for this.”
—
IV. HAPPINESS OUTSIDE DAYDREAMS
“you’re my boyfriend now and you don’t sleep on the floor anymore. how cute is that?” you happily think out loud, swinging your feet dangling at the edge of the bed. “but if you want to go back to our old ways… my bed is small even for me.”
“no way. are you kidding?!” he jokingly protests in an angry manner. “your bed is perfect.”
jungkook is on cloud nine. it sure does feel good to hear you sound so happy calling him your boyfriend, even more so to reap its special privileges.
“i keep forgetting to ask. which side do you prefer?”
you’re sat facing the door. “i don’t know, but i’m used to sleeping here.”
“alright. i’ll stay here.” he climbs under the covers, spreading his arms once his back hits the mattress. the smirk on his face widens. “come here, baby.”
a grunt slips past his lips when you jump into his arms without warning, eventually falling over to the side when he moves to envelope you in his embrace.
“you’re so warm.” you purr in contentment as you bury your face against his chest. “i love cuddling so much.”
“i’ve noticed,” he replies. he softly squeezes your exposed thigh after you slump your leg over his hip to maximize your comfort. “your pillow must be softer than me though.”
“no, i like you more… cuddling is proven to have health benefits, you know?”
he quirks an eyebrow. “oh really? give me examples.”
“it releases happy chemicals in the brain… it apparently also helps to lower blood pressure and heart rate, and it-” you fail to stifle a sleepy yawn, hands grasping the cloth of his shirt and forming closed fists. “…improves one’s quality of sleep.”
“i can see it’s working well for you.” he chuckles.
“is it for you?”
“mhmm, yes,” he presses his lips to your forehead. “i’m happy. there’s only happy chemicals in my brain right now.”
jungkook means it wholeheartedly and it feels strange. he doesn’t feel happy in this moment alone. this happiness is colossal and there’s not nearly enough hours in a day to take it all in. this happiness will still be here when he wakes up tomorrow, and the day after that. this happiness stays with him even when you’re not physically present. you’ve turned him into an optimistic fool but it’s not always that he experiences an attraction this strong.
he’s smitten and he can’t hide it. the people who are around him everyday sees it on his face; he doesn’t even need to say it out loud. all that corny shenanigans about romance giving you a certain type of glow is apparently true, it turns out.
“kissing is said to have the same effects, actually.”
your coyness captivates him from his thoughts.
he draws back slightly, the glint of mischief in his eyes mirroring yours. “where do you learn these things?”
“through reading and experience.” you shrug innocently. “want to test that out too?”
you’re everywhere. he can taste your lips, your tongue; your body wash floods his sense of smell with a sweet and clean scent, plus something else he can’t quite name. he can only it describe as you. your hair is tangled in his fingers and your hands… so delicate and teasing with every touch, it feels like being electrified. it still feels incredibly chilly outside but heat is radiating off his skin. he needs to peel himself off you before he loses his last shred of self-control.
“baby…” he whispers, lips only a couple inches from yours. he takes your hand in a tender hold, placing it over his racing heartbeat. “i’m not sure about this one being good for my health.”
“but it is. you just burnt some calories.” you smile, wiping the sweat that has started to form on his forehead. “should we stop?”
he feels his cheeks become more flushed, but his craving for you has overtaken his shyness. he might as well be drunk; intoxicated by you.
“no.” he refuses, conflicted and almost pained. “i can’t…”
he gets rid of the distance between your lips once more, swallowing the first obscene moan he brings out of you.
—
V. THE SPRING FLOWER IN THE EYE OF THE STORM
although you know they held affection for you, the boys you’ve attracted in your life have made one thing clear: they see you as an object of desire, and you unintentionally play the part well. if you were going to make their wet dreams come true, then you ought to derive pleasure from it as well without shame.
but with jungkook, the tables have turned. you wore the same lipstick from last time to rile him up on purpose, but instead you’re the one stuck trying to recall a time you were this putty in somebody’s hands. you’re not in control— you expect this thought would make you spiral, but it doesn’t.
you stumble inside your apartment making out with your boyfriend and you have an orange azalea tucked behind your ear. his hand is in your mess of a hair and it protects your head from the impact of the wall as your back collides with it. you don’t know if it was on purpose or not but your heart flutters nonetheless. this is sickeningly romantic and you want to drown yourself in it.
“oh, feels good.” his mouth on your neck is addictive, you imagine it would be heavenly on more vulnerable parts of you. your nails harshly dig into his shoulder as he takes his time with every lick, every nip of his teeth— eager to learn more about your body and what makes it weak at the knees.
you tug at his hair with a whisper. “jungkook…”
“mhm? yes, baby?”
you thought you’ve seen and felt enough. you know about lust, but never felt a chemistry this electrifying. there’s an emotion screaming beneath the daze in jungkook’s eyes; it’s always been there, but not this loud. you think if you trust your gut and open yourself up… you might just come to gain an understanding of it.
you bite your bottom lip, behind it a shadow of a smile. “bedroom.”
his restless hands slide down to hook around your thighs, and not long after, your legs are wrapped around his waist as he navigates your apartment blinded by the mutual refusal of your lips to disconnect. you giggle every time he bumps into something and groans. with his fear of accidentally letting you fall felt through his tight grip, you’re the one who kicks the bedroom shut. the sound couldn’t have been louder than the pounding of your heart reaching your own ears.
jungkook is gentle as he lays you down on the bed, but your lack of inhibitions reign over you. you begin unbuttoning his shirt, unconsciously grinding your heat against his thigh as you do so. it catches him by surprise, but then his strong hands find purchase on your waist, and you know he wants this as much as you do.
the kiss is broken up by a moan when his grip falls to your hips, guiding your wild movements in chasing pleasure with a tenderness and sensuality that transforms you into a feverish mess. another gush of arousal ruins your underwear worse. you kiss him again and eventually you lose count of the buttons— patience runs thin and with adrenaline rushing through your veins, you tear his shirt apart.
he hisses. “baby, shit- what did y-”
“shhh,” you place an index finger over his lips.
he chuckles raspily, shaking his head in disbelief. your giggles join him, equally amused with yourself.
it’s still for a few seconds, but you can hear each other breathe in the dark. you’ve seen him naked but his silhouette alone stirs the fuel spreading throughout your body. he’s perfect. your lips reclaim the place of your finger. your hands caress every inch of his skin, every curve of his flesh they can reach. he doesn’t make an effort to hold his noises and it turns you on more, if that is even possible at this point. his muscles continue to tense under your touches, even worse when you find his nipples to tease and play with. he’s perfect.
“it’s my turn.” he tries to say in the middle of the kiss, but you don’t hear a thing until he’s pulling away breathless and you’re whining in disappointment. “let me return the flavor please? i’ve been going crazy thinking about it. fuck, please.”
you sit up on the bed, pushing his naked chest challengingly. “what? you want to eat me out?“
he swallows, wide scandalized eyes failing to escape your keen observation. “i do.”
you watch him watch you strip off your sweater, “really…?” and then unclasp your bra, allowing its straps to provocatively slide down your shoulders.
“ye-yes, really.”
“then what’s stopping you?”
he whines out your name, interrupting himself with his craving for another kiss as he slips off your bra completely. it gets lost on the floor along with your sweater and you smirk deviously against his lips. “you’re testing me like this, huh? you’re so mean.”
you lie on your bed but you feel like you’re on top of the world. jungkook scatters kisses from your neck down to your chest, occasionally licking and biting as if he can’t help but to taste you. he uncovers another ticklish spot along your ribcage, but you bite your lip to control your giggles. instead, you touch his face to subtly guide him away from it.
he nuzzles his cheek against your palm, eyelids fluttering close as he presses a soft kiss to your wrist.
“may i?”
the shape of his lips lingers there. no one has ever kissed your wrist, nor have you ever imagined the first time to take place in bed.
your thumb strokes his cheek tenderly. the silence that follows there after concerns jungkook. he calls out your name, snapping you out of deep thought.
“may i?” he repeats himself.
he is patiently suspended over the waistband of your skirt. ever the gentleman, you half-smile.
“will you fuck me good after?”
the hand on his face sneaks down to pull up the skirt over your stomach; an even tinier piece of fabric covers the most intimate part of your body.
“whatever you want, baby, i will do it.” he promises.
you can hear the smirk in his voice, but you’re unable to form another response as his tongue laves over the lace, the warmth and wetness saturating through and stimulating your clit— once, slowly, and then over and over again.
you gasp, jolting and squirming in pleasure. he only makes it worse when he hums and you feel the vibration against you. you whine and he squeezes the soft flesh of your inner thighs in an attempt soothe you, keep you still, nuzzling his cheek as he meets your heated gaze.
“relax… is my baby always this sensitive?” he places a chaste kiss over your clit, causing your breath to hitch. “‘cause i’ve barely started.”
“jungkook,” you impatiently whine. “why’d you stop? just do it, please- need you.”
you’d wipe off that stupid smirk on his face if only you weren’t so pent up and you didn’t need his tongue.
“wow… didn’t think you’re the type to beg.” he muses, more so talking to himself. “i like it.”
hell no, you’re not.
but finally, he dives in, greedily pulling aside the flimsy material for a real taste of you. instead of a sharp remark, erotic sounds between a moan and a sob emit from your lips. your toes curl at the surge of mind-numbing ecstasy overwhelming your body. your hands fisting the sheets fly to his hair, frantically tugging like you can’t take it, but you beg and beg and beg him for more.
—
the last time you had sex was more than four months ago. you realized that you liked jungkook, and you simply didn’t want to do it with anybody else. sexual frustration combined with the romantic pining for a man that could potentially ruin your life; your youth has been nothing short of eventful.
has sex always been this good? you can’t remember. you’re drunk on pleasure even in the aftermath; you’re not sure if you’re really here or floating someplace else. as you catch your breath, jungkook soothes your body with gentle kisses and strokes of your skin, whispering sweet nothings. mostly babbling about how beautiful you are. and you feel it— feel beautiful, you mean.
you gradually open your eyes, vision adjusting to the divine view infront of you. jungkook is golden, skin still glistening with sweat under the warm glow of the lampshade. your heart skips a beat when he smiles at you.
“are you good? do you need anything? water?”
“again.”
his eyes widens. “again?“
“round two.” you giggle.
you push yourself up to reach his lips, but the kiss ends too soon for your liking.
“jungkook-” you complain.
“wait!”
you stare in bewilderment as he bends down from the edge of bed, appearing to be reaching for one of the objects discarded on the floor.
“what is it?”
“i found it!”
it’s the flower.
beaming with a hue of pure excitement, he tucks the azalea behind your ear for the second time tonight. pretty, he says it so quietly that you only understand through the movement of his lips.
he looks bewitched by you. in a different setting you’d be smug about it, but at this moment, you don’t understand. you can’t read what’s on his mind. if only you could see yourself through his eyes, even for just a moment, then maybe you’d understand why he’s dancing with fire and folding with his tower of cards.
it would be too silly and embarrassing to start crying now, right?
you swallow the lump in your throat, glassy eyes overshadowed by your boyfriend leaning in to plant a kiss on your forehead. as if that isn’t enough to entirely melt your heart, he intertwines his fingers with yours. your walls come crumbling down. in a haste to forbid your emotions from breaking free, you reach for him and slip your tongue in his mouth for a fervent kiss.
the burning tears that drip down to your temples are lost evidence you will bring to the grave.
—
“you’re not supposed to be awake.” jungkook complains as soon as he opens the door.
you only spare him a glance before returning to your task. instead of being under the sheets, you’re sat on the floor with his button-up shirt from last night laid across your lap. only several steps closer and he realizes that you’re sewing.
he exhales through his mouth in surprise, setting aside the tray of food on the bed before joining you on the floor.
“baby, what are you doing?! it’s fine. you don’t need to fix it.”
“i know, but i want to.” you reply, smiling, eyes still swollen from sleep focused on the needle and thread. “i stepped on one of the buttons so i looked for the two other.”
he’s dumbfounded watching you sew with so much care and precision. oh my god, he is in love with you. he thinks it so loud he gets terrified that he might’ve ended up speaking it out loud too.
“at least eat first!”
“wow, where did you buy ingredients so early?”
“early?” he scratches his head. “it’s lunch time.”
“what?!” your eyes grow twice their size. “jungkook, i’m late for work! what didn’t you wake me up?!”
“you- you we- you were tired!” he stutters defending himself.
he awkwardly catches his shirt when you throw it aside in a rush to get to the bathroom.
“baby, what about your food?!” he yells.
“wait, i forgot my towel-” you pop out from the doorframe, beaming at him breathlessly. “oh, please pack the food in my lunchbox!”
—
VI. SPEAKING TRUTHFULLY, YOU’RE THE ONE FOR ME
“i missed you.”
you giggle. “you look drunk.”
you hold jungkook’s cheeks in the palm of your hands, and he revels in the comforting warmth radiating from them.
he closes his eyes with a toothy grin. “i’m exhausted.”
“then go to sleep!”
“i don’t want to!”
he opens one eye, peeking at you.
“i came here so you won’t have to tire yourself out more going to my place.” you pout. “why do you hate resting?”
“this is me resting,” he says as a matter of fact, leaning down to give your lips a peck. “you are my rest.”
while it may be true that his body is begging for sleep, his mind is willing him to stay awake for as long as he can. he likes that he has nothing to prove here; he can simply be. you’re softly tracing his skin, forming constellations from the moles on his face, and he knows they’re created out of pure wonder and love.
“this one’s so cute!” you gush. “nobody talks about it enough.”
you place an affectionate kiss on the mole at the bridge of his nose.
“maybe because nobody has noticed it but you.”
you roll your eyes. “as if i’m the only one who spends their free time looking at your face.”
“but you’re the one who can view me in the highest quality.” he brings his face a little closer to tease you; noses almost brushing. “no one else can have me this close.”
“that’s right. or else you will never have me this close again.”
you squint your eyes at him as a threat; a frown making a permanent residence on your lips. fuck, when is he not thinking about kissing you?
“aigoo, look at you sulking!” he exclaims with a laugh.
“i’m not!”
“okay, whatever you say.” he replies in a sing-song voice.
it’s silent for a few beats as he engulfs you in his embrace. he feels like he’s being recharged, and with that comes along the overdue acknowledgement of his exhaustion. he meant it when he said that you are his rest.
“you know, i can’t help but to wonder sometimes.”
there is an undertone of hesitance in the way you spoke which is not typical of you. this prompts him to draw back a little, just enough to get a good look of your face.
“wonder about?”
“i’m not trying to put myself down or anything like that, by the way. i’m not expecting you to say the right thing or whatever either. i’m just-”
you pause, teeth nervously biting your lip. his heart aches in an instant when you avoid his eyes.
“i’m just genuinely curious? and saying what’s on my mind.”
“what is it?” he juts out his bottom lip. “you’re scaring me.”
“it’s not a big deal!”
“go on then. i’m listening.”
“i mean, i know i’m a catch, and- and i have a lot to offer, and i’m special in my own way. but you have a lot of…” you blink, trying to find the right term. “options.”
the word alone causes distaste to morph in his facial expression.
“okay, okay, i know! ugh, i don’t know how else to say it. but you have these beautiful and amazing people throwing themselves at you and sometimes i’m flabbergasted that you actively reject them for me.”
“baby, what are you even saying-”
“i’m serious. there are girls i would’ve totally gone for!”
“but they’re not you!”
he tilts your chin, smiling when at last, he recaptures your wide-eyed gaze.
“it’s really as simple as that.”
“but when we weren’t official yet-”
“i liked you from the start, if i didn’t make that obvious enough.”
you scrunch your cute nose; a smile of pure giddiness starting to form on your face. “you did… i knew.”
“i can’t believe you’re thinking about things like that. i only have eyes for you, baby. do you remember the first fight we had, huh? remember how i got drunk and cried?”
he doesn’t particularly like to relive the trauma and consequences of receiving unsolicited… almost naked… photos of an acquaintance while he’s watching a silly youtube video on his phone with his significant other. anything can be fixed in a relationship if both parties exert the effort, but trust, it is almost impossible to rebuild.
she didn’t know he was, is, in a relationship. in general, no one outside his inner circle really expects him to be in a relationship, or at least be in one that is serious or long-term. because, well, where would he find the time and energy for that kind of stuff?
but keeping you as a secret was his way of protecting you, and if you were hurting because of that, you didn’t show it.
oh, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t mad.
you needed some time to clear your head, you said. ignored his texts and phone calls; shooed him away when he begged at your front door. that issue may already been resolved, but he’s still not done proving that he’s solely committed to you.
you’re one of the most important people in his life. he loves you and he tends to get worried that you will never know much.
you gasp, hitting his chest. “when did that happen?!”
“why are you shocked…?” he narrows his eyes. “you didn’t know?”
“how would i know?”
he scratches his head in confusion. he should probably stop talking at this point and not dig his own grave, but his honesty leads him on. “…didn’t taehyungie-hyung send you a video? or did i make that up in my head?”
he immediately regrets it when the sparkle of mischief appears in your eyes.
“he’s still awake, right?”
“actually, he sleeps early nowadays!”
you wiggle out of his embrace, playfully sticking out your tongue at him. “i’ll go get the copy from him right now.”
“it was so long ago. it’s probably deleted by now!”
“wouldn’t hurt to check.”
“baby, no! it’s embarrassing!” he attempts to pull you back, but his hands barely reach you. “let’s just go to sleep, hm? didn’t you come here to put me to sleep?”
“aw, my love…”
he melts when you gingerly stroke his hair too. he will never live it down if his friends witnessed you babying him and him loving it.
“just close your eyes.”
and with your hand obstructing his vision, he sees pitch black and floating spots and flecks.
“i’ll be back in a minute! mwah!”
but despite his sense of sight being taken away, he still feels you spring off the mattress. the weight of your feet against the floor resonates along with the shout of your name as he follows you out of his bedroom.
you squeal in panic when you realize that you’re being chased. “go back to bed!”
“i won’t unless you go back with me!”
this is one of the instances in which jungkook is grateful for his gifts of athletic prowess and long limbs.
with little to no effort, he overtakes you in the race towards taehyung’s bedroom. doe eyes akin to a deer caught in the headlights, he swings the door open.
taehyung’s eyes flicker up from his phone. he’s frankly not surprised about the intrusion, not after hearing the commotion outside.
“need anything?”
“all the videos you have of him drunk!”
“hyung, no! you can’t give it!”
—
VII. THE CHOICE TO STAY
“give it to me.”
the blanket that jungkook carried from the bedroom is snatched away from his hands. it becomes unfurled and thrown over to shield your shivering vessel from the cold. without a word, he crawls on the couch and under the blanket, hugging you from behind as you catch up on your ongoing tv shows.
relief… he’s been looking forward to this all day.
the tension in his muscles, from head to toe, begin to fade away, especially as you take his hand in yours so you can give it a chaste kiss. it’s quick, but long enough for him to feel the softness of your lips. his hug tightens. he remains silent as he inhales, and exhales, slow and calm. he’s not trying to fall asleep as much as trying to shut down his brain. they say the world has stopped but from his point of view, it has erupted into chaos and he has no other choice but to watch it fall apart and to attempt to rebuild it at the same time. god knows he is doing the best he can but it feels like his best will never not be lacking.
jungkook is scared, and he is more scared knowing that everyone else is too. but for the past two years, whether you’re whole or broken, whether he’s climbing or falling— it never made a difference. you’ve always stayed.
he finds comfort in knowing that he has this constant among the ominous unknown.
his little firefly; your light won’t go out even as the world lets out its final sigh.
“my love, why are you sad?”
you flipped to your other side when another commercial break rolled in; now you’re hovering over him, curious eyes studying every inch of his face.
“is my love hurt anywhere?” you coo. “where should i kiss?”
his body shakes with quiet laughter as you pepper his face with kisses, trailing down to his jaw until you reach the juncture between his neck and shoulder.
“or do you want a massage? here? know you had a looong day.”
“really? how’d you know?”
“yeah, ‘cause you haven’t showered. you’re all stinky.”
“oh, am i?” he playfully pinches your waist, which you react to with a drawn out whine. “and yet you’re still cuddling with me.”
“so? do you need my massage therapy services or not?!”
“no. i only need my lover, please.” he pleads with droopy eyelids, emphasizing his request by tangling his limbs with yours.
he can’t hide from you like he hides from himself. you’re much more gentler with his heart than he is; unconciously, he trusts you more with it.
“you have me. what’s wrong?”
your hands anchored on the sofa are swept away as he pulls you closer, your weight crashing down on him entirely. he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your natural scent and the lavender in your body wash.
“eh, it’s just work… everything that could go wrong is going wrong. we’re trying to figure things out, but what can we do really…? there’s nothing. i- this-this whole thing is just so fucking frustrating, baby. i’m sorry.”
“it’s not just work! it’s your reason for living. of course this is frustrating and painful for you. it’s understandable to feel that way.”
he can practically hear you pouting. he is proven right when you lift your head, leaning in to give him a kiss. he smiles against your lips. he loves you so much.
“so please don’t burn yourself out trying to be okay. you have me by your side who can help you carry your burdens.”
it was scary at the beginning, but now it only feels right. it is impossible not to love you with all of his heart and soul; you deserve nothing less and more than what he can give. when you hug him, he hugs you back tighter.
“you’re my reason to live too.”
“i shouldn’t be. what if i die before you?”
“yah, don’t says things like that!” he scolds you faster than he can think, eyebrows knitted together and frown a tad deeper. “you won’t. it won’t happen.”
“i will die eventually.” you grimace.
“please don’t say such things as ‘i want you to move on and meet someone else and fall in love again and remarry.’ i don’t want to hear it!” he rambles so fast that he doesn’t even understand himself, stumbling and lisping. “i will seriously cry!”
“oh, i don’t care for things like that.”
you make yourself more comfortable; your boyfriend as your own personal bed. sleeping on top of him has been a natural occurence these days, not that he minds. you’re so soft and warm. it’s like hugging a stuffed toy to sleep. still, he’s mindful of you falling off the couch again.
“do whatever you like.” your eyes meet as you bestow him with a smile. “i’ll be dead; i won’t even know what happens next.”
“you don’t care? huh…” he huffs over the hypothetical.
the mere consideration of it feels like cheating. he knows that it technically isn’t, but he can’t imagine spending the rest of his life with someone who isn’t you. nevertheless, if he was being honest and it was the other way around, he’d probably do tell you to leave your heart open. but the topic is not the other way around and jungkook’s heart is stubbornly bound to you.
“why am i getting upset?”
“i don’t care because i’m confident.” you say candidly. “you can fall in love with someone else, but no one will ever love you the way that i do.”
ah, and here comes a side of you that he knows and loves. he swears that cupid is in the room and his heart was just hit by another one of his arrows. it feels so good to be loved so fearlessly.
“i know, so why even bother?” he arrives at a conclusion to his defense, but there’s a much better solution. “please never ever leave me so i won’t have to deal with this dilemma.”
he catches you roll your eyes before he comes face-to-face with the back of your head. your cheek rests on top of his chest; he feels it above his beating heart.
“what then? are we supposed to die together?”
he hums in thought. “it’s not a totally bad idea. we live together, so wouldn’t that make sense too?”
“wow, very shakespearean of you.”
“oh, that’s right! see? isn’t this your type of thing? let’s do it!”
“oh my god, you’re so stupid.” you hide your face behind your hand, giggling in disbelief of the sharp turn this conversation took.
jungkook loves making you laugh. for a little while, he forgets everything else. the world outside may be terrifying but you have your own in your shared apartment. you’re his reason to live too. you ignite the life in his veins. you kiss him with an appetite for passion and love and he enters heaven on earth.
“thank you.” you mumble against his lips.
“thank you?”
“for loving me, for living with me…” your voice wavers and his heart drops to his stomach. he can hold back his tears, but never when he sees yours flowing. “even when you’re tired and having a hard time.”
“you make it sound like a chore, but the truth is loving you gives me the strength to work hard everyday. you do know that, right? baby?” he strokes your hair tenderly, hoping that you receive his sincerity. “i should be the one thanking you… i should say it more often. you didn’t give up on loving me even when it was hurting you.”
“it’s all in the past… you were hurting too.” you reply in a faint whisper. “i love you.”
cupid must owe him a tremendous favor to have granted him the purest form of love a human being could have.
he plants a kiss on your forehead, noticing the rise of your shoulders. an endearing thing they occasionally do when you’re happy, shy, or flattered. it’s one of the many things he learned about you since you started living under the same roof.
he’s been learning about himself too. he tried saving you from himself but this fact is now well-established— you are the sun; it only hurts him to push you away because you’re in everything. it’s the little things that will haunt him if lost. when pieced together, they declare that you love him and he loves you.
the words i’m going home have gained more meaning and he’s excited to say them at the end of each day. he talks about his day and you talk about yours. you find out he’s the reason your lotion ran out too fast again and you chase him around the apartment until he promises to buy you the biggest bottle. you play rock-paper-scissors to figure out who will wash the dishes or receive the food from the delivery guy. you watch too many cooking videos on his phone until one of you falls asleep. most of the time it’s you. tonight, it’s still you.
he must confess that up to this day, he admires you when you sleep. you are safe and sound, and he is mended in places he did not know existed.
it’s time to sleep, he also decides.
he cocoons you in the blanket, then provides another layer of warmth which is his body. once settled, he closes his eyes, sighing in contentment. “what’s the use of our giant bed if we keep on sleeping on the couch?”
—
(?). AN ETERNAL RECORD: MY TREASURE, MY LOVE (ARCHIVED)
[DEC 25 ‘17 02:12AM]
“is it rolling?”
“yes, it’s rolling.”
you excitedly look at the film camera from the thick pile of snow on the ground, moving your arms up and down and your legs from side to side. an attempt to create a snow angel.
your giggles and the crackles of the snow are heard through the speaker.
the lens zoom in on your face.
childlike joy in the form of an everlasting smile and snowflakes on your hair.
“am i doing it?!”
“you are!”
“really?”
“really!”
“is it pretty?”
your face comes out of the frame. for a second only the white snow is seen, and then the dark brown of your coat as you skip towards the camera.
“let me watch!”
the camera shakes before it pans to the ground.
rustling of clothes and a shy, panicked voice.
“hold on- i-i’ll just fix the…”
“why?”
“huh, what do i do?” a forced laugh to mask nervousness. “i think it didn’t save-”
#jungkook#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook drabble#jungkook one shot#jungkook scenario#jungkook imagine#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook au#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic#bts fluff#bts reaction
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Heartaches & Coffee
James Potter x Reader
Warning: awkwardness, breakup talk, James vining
Standing in the kitchen of her apartment she listens to the constant dripping of coffee into the cup. At times the sound is followed by a sizzle or crack when it misses the cup and lands on the tray below.
Grabbing the cup she hands it to him before standing in her original spot. Her back against her her counter with her own coffee mug clutched tightly. Taking a quick sip of the robust coffee she swallows. The only sounds to be heard were their awkward sips and swallows. Along with her cat, Punci, dashing around in the hallway.
“So..”
“So…”
“So um, thanks for letting me in this time,” he tells her.
“You’re welcome, it was raining..couldn’t leave you out there. My conscious understands guilt very well,” she says.
James looked down into the coffee mug as if the dark liquid could tell him what to say or do. He knew what needed to be said but the words fizzled out on his tongue each time. Instead he took a different approach, “what changed this time, aside from the rain. We both know I had an umbrella with me.”
Looking up at him from her coffee mug she shrugged, “I guess I didn’t notice the umbrella.” A blatant lie as she spent three minutes peeking out of her window before letting him in. She noticed the umbrella he was about to let up and leave with. Deep down she couldn’t let him leave, no after so many failed attempts to reach out. “Why did you come? Well why do you keep coming here?”
He blinked once, twice, thrice before shaking his head, “I just couldn’t stop thinking. Thinking about how we left things and what we said to each other. I can’t sit at home and pretend what I said to you didn’t hurt me as well.”
The plea in his voice caught her attention like an olive branch waiting for her to grab the other end. “You’re not the only one at fault, I said some pretty messed up things too. About you, Lily, and everyone else..jealous is an ugly disease. But..but I can’t blame jealousy for how I reacted to everything.”
He smiled, that smile of his that causes his eyes to look like down turned crescent moons. The smile that she missed regardless of her stubbornness at first to admit she was wrong.
“Look, dov- Y/N..”
“It’s fine.”
“What’s fine?” He asked furrowing his eyebrows.
“Dovie, it’s fine.”
She smiled, that smile that made her hide it behind her hand or objects. Like now as she uses her coffee mug to hide the way her lips quirked up. It appeased the thoughts in his head fueling him to continue.
“Look dovie, we both messed up and I know that it’s too late. But I still love you, for so long I wanted your heart to ache the way mine did. But I just couldn’t do that, you mean so much to me like you’re apart of me. I know that must sound-”
“Silly? Crazy? It doesn’t I always tell myself that I’m a bit of everyone I ever loved.” Her eyes dart towards his green ones, “I think I’m more of a half when it comes to loving you. Like I’m not fully whole until you’re near me, is that-”
“Silly? Crazy? No, it never will be. Maybe a little cheesy-” he let out a laugh at her sharp glare. “I’m kidding, it explains what I’ve always felt…what I still feel now. I know I made you feel as if you had to question my loyalty and who I truly loved. But I mean it when I say I was a fool for not telling you right away. Y/N M/N L/N I love you…you are where my loyalty lies. You’re the reason I’m up late at night hoping to be better, dovie.”
“James..”
The utterance of his name form her lips left him captivated. Placing down his coffee cup he pads over to her. She seemed to have the same idea as her coffee cup was placed down as well. His hands cupped her cheeks as she shuddered from the warmth of them. The warmth that seemed to live in her chest once more.
“It’s okay if you don’t love-”
His words forgotten as she presses her lips to his the kiss was delicate. As if they were slowly introducing themselves again in a synchronized manner.
Pulling back from the kiss he presses his forehead to hers his eyes closed. Yet that smile never left his lips, “I love you, Jamie. I don’t blame you for what you did, love isn’t easy and sometimes time apart makes it all the better.”
“You’re starting to sound like the poetry Moony started writing,” he teased.
“You’re lucky I love you, then again I have been made aware of your collection of love notes..”
“Was it Padfoot? I swear it had to be him he tried to get me to send them to you.”
With eyes full of love she pecked his lips briefly, “and I would have treasured them forevermore and possibly given you a kiss for each one you sent.”
“Is that offer still on the table?”
“Maybe have any on you, Fleamont?”
“What if I write one now, Dovie?”
“I’d be persuaded..”
James perked up pulling away from her as he pointed down the hall. “Keep your parchment and quills in the same place?”
“Always,” she said watching him dash down the hall in record speed. A soft meow followed by a ‘sorry Punci!’ and hiss caused her to laugh.
Oh how beautiful it is…that thing we call love.
#x reader#fluff#marauders era#marauders#james potter x reader#james potter#angst#james potter angst#xreader#james fleamont potter
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we could be more | dean winchester | 18
Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.
SERIES MASTERLIST
WHAT IS AND WHAT SHOULD NEVER BE
ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : HOUSE OF MEMORIES - PANIC!AT THE DISCO
I opened my eyes, adjusting to the surroundings. Which was mostly blood. And fire. And more blood. “What the hell-“
“Hello, Ivonne.” I saw a demon in front of me, a short, pudgy man in a suit. He looked like a five year old with a big forehead. I chuckled, smirking.
“Looks like I’m in it.”
“We’re been waiting for you.”
“Flattered.” I sniped. “Who are you?”
“Demon.”
“And you’re wearing a suit like you’re the boss? Keep dreaming.” He was silent, so I laughed again. “Oh, so you are? I was expecting more of an intimidating visage, really. But good on you, I supposed.”
“No-no.” He grunted distastefully, then put on the smirk again. “Lucifer’s… on holiday. My name’s Crowley, the demon who’ meant to handle you, and you’ve got the penthouse here. You’re in Hell, honey, and there’s no escaping.”
Dean woke up in a bed that wasn’t his, looking around in confusion. He got up and walked into the living room of the apartment, then took out his cell and called Sam.
‘Dean?’
“Sam?”
‘What's going on?’
“I don't know. I don't know where I am.”
’What? What happened?’
“Well, the uh, the Djinn. It attacked me.”
‘The gin? You’re drinking gin?’
“No, asshat. The Djinn. The... scary creature. Remember? It put its hand on me and then I woke up... in a weird place.”
Sam chuckled. ‘You mean your apartment, the place you live?’
“And Beanie… oh god, Beanie… she’s dead.”
’Who’s Beanie? Who is she, Dean?’
“Ivy. Our Ivy, don’t you remember her?”
‘Dean, you're drunk. You're drunk-dialing me.’
“I am not drunk. Quit screwing around!”
‘Look, it's late. All right, just get some sleep and, um, I'll ... see you tomorrow. OK?’
“Wait, Sam. Sam!” Sam hung up, so Dean searched his contacts.
No Ivy.
“Dean.” Mary Winchester frowned when she saw her son at the door.
“Mom?” Dean whispered, his voice breaking.
“What are you doing here? Are you all right?”
“I don't know.”
“Well, come inside, then.” She led him inside, concerned. “What’s going on?”
“Let me ask you a question. When I was a kid, what did you always tell me when you put me to bed?”
“I-I don’t understand-“
“Just answer the question.”
“I told you angels were watching over you.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “I don't believe it.” He hugged her tightly, tears threatening to fall down his face.
“Honey, you're scaring me.” Mary murmured. “Now just tell me what's going on.”
“You don't think that wishes can, can really...”
“What?”
“Forget it. I’m just happy you’re here, is all.” He took her shoulders. “You're beautiful.”
“What?”
“Hey, when I was uh... When I was young was there ever a fire here?”
“No, never.”
“I thought there was.” He smiled. “I guess I was wrong. Dad's on a softball team.”
“He loved that stupid team.” Mary chuckled.
“Dad's dead? And the thing that killed him was a...”
“A stroke. He died in his sleep, you know that.”
“Hey, Nate. Nate!” A boy of around eight dashed down the stairs, jumping down the last three. A blonde woman who looked in her early 20s ran after him, while a slightly older guy followed at a slower pace. “Nathan Michael Rainer, get back here! You can play Captain America another time; your bedtime was fifty minutes ago!” The surname struck a chord, and Dean’s eyes widened. Could she…
“Lily!” The guy called, then threw up his hands in exasperation. He then turned to Dean and Mary in surprise. “Oh, I’m sorry, Mrs Winchester, I didn’t know you were having guests around.”
“No, that’s ok, honey, it was a surprise to me too.” Mary laughed, then gestured to Dean. “This is my elder son, Dean.”
“Nice to meet you.” Dean held out a hand, which the boy shook.
“You too, man. I’m Carter.” Carter grinned, then looked behind him. So… that was Carter Rainer.
“Hell of a grip.”
“Back atcha. Excuse me, my brother’s on a sugar high. Shouldn’t have let him eat ice cream after seven. Or eat ice cream at all.” He jogged off, and Mary shook her head with a giggle.
“Who’s…”
“Oh, come on, Dean.” Mary sighed. “Carter’s Sam’s best friend and you definitely know this. You’re drunk, aren’t you?”
“No.” Dean shook his head. “‘Course not.”
“Well, Audrey and Michael’s kids are over for Christmas while they’re having their anniversary together in Hawaii. Though it’s hard managing Nate without- oh, speak of the angel.“ The doorbell rang, so Mary rushed to open it, the person behind her masked by the hug they gave each other.
“I hope I’m not late to the party.” The voice broke Dean’s heart, and he had to gulp back tears, heading into the dining room to recover, but still peering through the door. She’s alive. “Is Nate in bed?”
“Too much ice cream.”
“Ok, so he’s a race car by now, got it.” Ivonne Rainer walked in, taking off her beanie and leather jacket, hanging it up. Then, just as Nate ran past, she scooped him up, making him giggle. “Someone’s not sleepy, huh?”
“No!” Nate pouted, folding his arms. “I want to stay up, like the rest of you.”
“Oh, but you’re sleepy, Nate.” She insisted. Then she moved her pointed in a loop around his face, his eyes following as the circle got smaller. “You’re getting sleepier, and sleepier, and boop!” She tapped his nose. “You’re really sleepy.” Nate yawned, and she smiled, kissing his forehead. “There we go.” Then she turned to Quinn, who emerged from the kitchen. “Quinn, you get the honour of putting Sleepy Nate to bed. I’ll help Mrs Winchester out.”
“Sure thing.” Quinn smiled, taking Nate upstairs. Dean blinked; it was hard to look at her the same after seeing her as a dreamwalker, being the cause of Ivy’s death and also being a hardcore psycho. However, it was good to see her, well, normal.
Ivy turned to Carter and Lily. “You two better get some sleep too.”
“We’re 23 and 20, sis, not 15 and 12.” Carter smirked, rolling his eyes. The ages at which they died.
“I’m 27, so I hold the cards.” Ivy retorted, ruffling Carter’s hair. “Head up, short stack.”
“I’m four inches taller.”
“You used to be four inches smaller.”
“Yeah, when I was twelve.”
“Go and I’ll get you a burrito for breakfast.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Lily and Carter saluted in sync and headed upstairs, and Ivy turned to Mary with a triumphant grin.
“Madness fixed.” She laughed.
“Thank goodness, I can finally rest.” Mary joked as they went into the dining room. Dean’s eyes instantly fell on Ivy, his breath hitching. She looked the same, except she looked happier. Less worn, and she had a tattoo of three flying birds on her collarbone. The scar on her eyebrow was the same, her freckles were in place, but she had a few more laugh lines, and she had dimples when she smiled.
She looked beautiful to him. Well, she always looked beautiful.
“Should I put on a cup?”
“That would be amazing. Oh!” Mary exclaimed upon seeing Dean. She walked up to him, guiding him by the arm to face Ivy. “Dean, this is Ivonne, you haven’t met her yet. She works in the force in Jersey. Ivy, this is Dean.”
“Dean?” Ivy smiled, giving him a look which made his knees weak. “The Dean? Big brother, Dean?”
“That Dean, yeah.” Dean nodded, and they shook hands, though his hand lingered for a bit longer than he’d intended it to.
“It’s great to meet you, man. I’ve heard a lot about you.” She grinned, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Been dying to see the dude that raised Sammy.”
“Yeah. You’re, uh, you’re lookin’ at him.”
“I’m glad I am.” She turned to Mary, taking her shoulders gently. Is this what she’d be like had her siblings survived? “Mary, I’m gonna set some dinner up for Dean in the kitchen, you relax. Watch some TV.”
“Thanks, sweetie.”
“No problem.” She shrugged, then turned to Dean with a crooked, winning grin that mirrored her usual one, making Dean’s heart leap from his chest. “D’you want dinner, or are you gonna keep standing there?” Dean blindly followed her into the kitchen, at a loss for words. “So, the Dean, what d’you do for a living?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Try me, why don’t you?”
“I… I’m a… hunter.”
She grinned, though there was a flicker of something else. “Not that hard, is it? Dad’s hobby was hunting before he married my mom. Taught me how to shoot, so I went in the force. Majored in Criminology and also did a side course in folklore.”
“Shoo in at the academy, I’m guessing.” He chuckled.
“Oh, you have no idea.”
“I might.” She didn’t respond, busy cutting a cucumber with surprising accuracy. He stared at her, and at the necklace hanging from her neck, smiling softly and almost breathlessly. “Good with knives too?”
“Perks of havin’ a mom who’s good in the kitchen and a dad who’s good with guns.” She looked up, catching him staring. “Whatcha starin’ at?”
“You.” He blurted, then caught his words. “You, uh, cause you’re… you’re beautiful.”
“Thanks.” She giggled. “And here I thought you were the take it slow type.”
“Oh-“
“I’m just kidding, you’re good. No harm in complimenting a woman.” She passed him a plate of salad and a plate with a burger, both of which he dug into happily. The salad? More reluctantly, but still. “If we’re trading compliments, then I think you’re handsome.”
“Do you?” He chuckled, looking up.
“I do. I say it like I see it.”
“I’m familiar with it.”
“So, Dean, got a special lady where you’re from?” She had a twinkle in her eye, and Dean bit his lip, smiling.
“Yeah, yeah I do. I did.” He nodded.
“You did?” Her eyebrows furrowed.
“Yeah, past tense.”
“You don’t have to talk about it-“
“No, I can. It was a while ago.” He gulped, swallowing the tears. “I called her Beanie, cause she was always wearing one, but, uh, her name’s… Hazel.”
“I’d love this Hazel.” Ivy smiled, sitting down with a cup of tea. “My middle name’s Hazel. Tell me more about her.”
”She was… badass.” A goofy grin spread across his features, lighting them up. “Always had a plan, always knew what to say. She’d set me straight if I needed to be set, and her smile…”
“Let me guess, it can light up the room?”
“Nah. It could cause a power outage.”
“That good, huh?”
“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for y-her.” He caught his words. “If she was still here.”
“Sounds like a lucky girl.” She smiled.
You’re that lucky girl.
“No, I was a lucky man.” She made a face as if she was deducing something for a split second, then it looked like she pushed the thoughts down.
“Do I- Do I know you from… somewhere?”
“No.” He shook his head. “Probably not.”
“You just seem…” She let out a sigh that bordered on nostalgic, “familiar.”
“Like you’ve just met someone but you feel like you’ve known them forever?”
“Pretty much.” She tilted her head. “You’re a strange one, Dean Winchester.”
“And is that a bad thing?”
“I work in the force. Strange is a normal thing.”
The next morning, Dean woke up, and the first thing on his mind was the Djinn. Then he thought of someone who can help. He got up, walking over to where he thought Ivy would be, which was… making Nate eat his breakfast.
“You’ve got it.” She ruffled his hair, then saw Dean. A smile lit up on her face, and she walked over. “Morning, Dean. Whatcha want for breakfast?”
“To talk. To you.” He gulped, and a look of concern crossed her face.
“Yeah, of course. C’mon, Mary gave me John’s study if I ever needed quiet time.” They went into a small room with well kept books on the shelves, and she shrugged. “What’s up?”
“Do you have any books on folklore? Like… creatures and stuff? I’m curious about one.”
She took off a book, the exact book she used to use when she was alive, flicking through it. “Mhmm. Which one?”
“Djinn.”
“Djinn… got it.” She tapped a place on the page. “I can barely read Ancient Greek, but what do you wanna know?”
“If they can really grant wishes.”
“Yeah, they… can.” Ivy furrowed her brow, staring at him weirdly. “Dean, these are mythical creatures. You can’t possibly think they’re real.”
“I do.” He stepped forward, the coil in his head snapping. “And something tells me that you think the same.”
”What-“
“I know more about you than you think. Ivonne Hazel Rainer, born on January 9th, 1979 to Audrey and Michael Rainer. Your favourite colour is the orange the leaves turn in fall. Your favourite band is Led Zeppelin. During high school, you had a phase where you were a blonde babe.”
“How do you-“
“Your leather jacket was your father’s. You stole Carter’s beanie, but that’s fine cause you got him another one for his birthday. Everything you know about fighting came from your dad.”
She took out her gun, aiming it at him, fire blazing in her grey eyes. “Are you some kind of elaborate stalker? If you are, give me one good reason why I shouldn’t blow your brains out.” She flicked off the safety when the doorbell rang, and she put the gun down, putting the safety on. “You’re safe for now, douche.” She stored the gun in her waistband, hiding it with her shirt, then jogged down to the door and opened it to reveal Sam and Jessica.
“Sam, man!” Carter yelled, and Sam grinned.
“Carter!” They bro hugged, while Ivy hugged Jessica tightly.
“How have you been?” She asked Jessica, who then started gushing about her day. Dean started talking to Sam, but found that their relationship wasn’t what it used to be. “Hey, Sammy.” She smiled.
“Ivy!” Sam hugged her, but Ivy had to stand on her toes. “How’s work? Catch any bad guys?”
“Loads. Now come on, I’ve made breakfast.” She looked up at him. “Am I shrinking or are you getting taller?”
“Neither.” When they got inside and everyone headed to the kitchen, Ivy pressed her forearm to Dean’s collarbone and shoved him into a side room, pinning him to the wall.
“How do you know so much about me, huh?!” She interrogated. “What are you, a psychic? Shapeshifter? Demon?”
Dean’s eyes widened upon hearing it. “You don’t work in the force, do you-“
”Answer the question!”
“I know all that because I knew you. In a place where you had a much worse life.”
”You’re lying.”
”Would I have your gun if I was?” Dean took out Ivy’s - his Ivy’s - gun, showing it to her.
“My gun.” She breathed. “What… how?”
“Girl called Hazel? That’s you. I somehow got into this reality where everything’s great, but it isn’t. There were newspapers in your office of incidents that I was meant to stop. With Sam and you. And you’re not meant to be alive.”
“What are you talking about?”
”In my, uh, reality, you’re a lot rougher around the edges. That’s cause Quinn? She dies of cancer because your dad took her on a hunting trip that got her turned, and he OD’d her with dead man’s blood and made it look like cancer, so she died. Your dad dies because a dreamwalker carved his heart out. Then the dreamwalker, who you found out much later was Quinn, possesses Carter and makes him murder your mom, your then unborn brother Nate and Lily. Then you shoot him in self defence. All of this happened when you were nineteen, and you went on a monster killing spree until you were twenty six, which is when you met me. A year later, the dreamwalker comes back, and you reveal the truth. It forces you to kill your boyfriend and almost kills your dad. Now, you also had a rune preventing you from using sorcery that was meant to go to your brother. That could only be broken by a love sacrifice, and to break it you pushed me out of the way of Quinn’s attack and…” He paused, gritting his teeth, “you made me kill you.”
“And why?”
“So she couldn’t get to you again.”
“You’re made of bull, you know that, right?” She scoffed, taking out her gun. “I don’t believe you. I really don’t.”
“Look at me.” He ordered, “Look me in the eye, Beanie, and tell me if I’m lying.”
“I don’t need to look you in the eye to tell.”
“I loved you!” Dean burst out, breathing heavily. “Hell, more than I’d like to admit. I’ve tried to get over you, but I… I can’t.”
“Still full of-“
“Just take one look at me and tell me whether I’m lying. Please, Beanie.”
She sighed in defeat, then gave him a long, hard look. “You’re not, are you?”
”That’s what I was tryna tell you.” She let him go, biting her lip.
“You better be telling the truth. Otherwise I’d skin you alive. In the meantime, we’ve got your mom’s dinner party.”
A plate of asparagus was set in front of Dean, making Ivy chuckle. “Wow, that... looks awesome.”
“To Mary.” Ivy raised her glass. “Happy birthday.”
“To Mary.” Everyone clinked their glasses together, sipping. Sam and Jessica shared a kiss, and Dean smirked.
“What do you say, later we get you a cheeseburger?” She grinned, leaning closer to him.
“You’re an angel.” Dean whispered.
“I know.”
“How’d you become such a cool chick?”
“Ask my dad, not me.”
“All right. Jess and I actually have another surprise for Mom's birthday.” Sam announced, turning to Jessica. “Ah... You wanna tell 'em?”
“They’re your family.” Jessica insisted.
“Alright.”
“What?” Mary asked excitedly. “Tell me what?” Sam held up Jessica’s hand, entwined with his, a ring flashing on it. “Oh my God! That's so wonderful.” We all stood up sans Dean, hugging each other.
“Don’t forget the boys, Sam.” Carter grinned, clapping Sam on the shoulder.
“Oh, come on, Carter.” Quinn chastised with a smile incredibly similar to Carter’s. What is he thinking? They’re twins, of course they’d be similar. “We’re so happy for you.”
“And come to think of it,” Ivy teased, hugging Jessica, “you were both shyer than Carter in his teens when you met each other.”
“Oh, shut up.” Sam rolled his eyes playfully.
“That’s no way to talk to your marriage planner. Now, c’mon, we need to break out the champagne! And no, Lily, you’re underage.”
“Come on!” Lily complained.
“Lily, just one year.”
“One year’s too long.”
“Sorry, bite size.” Carter smirked, sipping champagne. “You’ve gotta wait.”
“You ok?” Ivy asked, sitting down on the sofa beside Dean and offering him a beer. He gladly took it, sipping it.
“Sammy and I don’t get along.” Dean lamented, and she shrugged.
“He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”
“I can fix things with Sam. I can make it up to him. To everyone.”
”Doesn’t make a lick of sense, dude.” She took a sip. “My alternate version, what did she say to you before she died?”
“She called me a dumbass.” He grinned, then faltered. “Said that she didn’t want to die so soon, but she had no option. She made me promise that I wouldn’t blame myself for her death, even though I’m the one that did it.”
“She asked you to do it, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then don’t blame yourself.” She shrugged, then laughed. “She sounds like a smart girl.” Ivy turned, seeing him staring with the same look as yesterday. “What?”
“You’re so much more happier here.” He chuckled. “It’s relieving. To know that if all that crazy shtick hadn’t happened, you might be… who you are now. You wouldn’t be so hard set, so averse to new opportunities-“
“What new opportunities?”
“This.” With that, he cupped her cheek, kissing her. He pulled back almost instantly running a hand through his hair as he internally cursed himself for kissing someone who was a stranger to him in this world. “Damn, Ivy, I’m so sorry-“ He was pulled back in for another kiss, Ivy holding his shirt but then cupping the nape of his neck. Then something seemed to switch, and she pulled back, standing up.
“No.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but… no.” Ivy let out a breathless chuckle, shaking her head as she ran a hand through her hair. “Whatever this is? It comes from your love for your Ivy, not me. I can’t replace her, Dean. I’m not rough around the edges like she is. My family’s alive, Dean, and i’d very much like it to stay that way, but we need to get you back. To your family.”
“I’ve only got Sammy left in my world.” He frowned, “I’m not sure I want to go back.”
“Well, you need to, buddy.” She clapped his shoulder. “C‘mon, let’s get you to wherever the Djinn was.”
“First…” He held a finger up, “I need a silver knife.”
“You kidding me?! It’s 12 in the morning!”
“I still need it!”
“Fine, but get the largest one, yeah? I’m waiting in the Impala.”
“You don’t have the-“ She held up the keys. “Yeah, should’ve known you’d swipe ‘em from my pocket.”
“Mhmm. Meet me in the car.”
Ivy was tapping the steering wheel impatiently when Dean got in, holding up the knife. Then after him came Sam.
“Sam?!” She hissed to Dean.
“Wha…” He turned to see Sam. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m coming with you.” He panted.
”No, he’s not.” Ivy refused.
“You're just gonna slow us down.” Dean grimaced.
“Us?!” Sam exclaimed indignantly. “What, is Dean some undercover cop?”
“You could say that.” Ivy huffed. “Sam, this is dangerous and you could get seriously hurt.”
“Well, tough.”
“You’re not leaving, are you?”
”Nope.”
“Ok, but don’t blame me and go crying to Jessica if you get hurt.” She floored it, driving off.
“What's in the bag?” Sam asked, spotting the bag in between Dean and I.
“Nothin’.” Dean sighed.
“Nothin’?”
“Nothin’.”
“Fine.” He grabbed the bag, starting to open it.
“Sam, you don’t wanna know what’s inside.” Ivy groaned.
“Oh really?” He took out the container of blood, making her shake her head. “Blood?”
“We needed a knife dipped in lamb’s blood.”
”You needed a silver knife dipped in lamb's blood, why?”
“There’s this thing, a Djinn. We need to hunt it.” Dean explained.
“Stop the car.” Sam ordered.
“This is why I said you shouldn’t come along.” Ivy snapped. Sam pulled out his phone, dialling a number.
“I mean, you guys are obviously having a psychotic breakdown, and-“ She grabbed his phone, throwing it out the window.
“We’re not psychotic. This here? It’s real.”
”My phone-“
“Tough, kid.” She sighed. “Listen to me and listen to me carefully, Sam. I’m not a police officer. I’m what people like me call a hunter. And I hunt demons, ghosts, you name the supernatural creature, I hunt it. Dean does too. A Djinn grants wishes, and Dean here seems to be stuck in one. Got it?”
“What about Carter? Lily, Quinn, Nate, do they know this?”
“Nope. They don’t know a thing, and you’re not gonna tell anyone, you hear me?”
“Loud and clear.”
“Good. Now sleep.”
“But-“
“Sleep.”
They pulled up at the Djinn’s hideout, and Sam woke up with a jerk. “Where are we?”
“Not in Kansas.” Ivy quipped, getting out of the car. “We’re in Illinois.”
”And you think there’s something in there?”
“Yeah.” She nodded exasperatedly. “Yeah, he does. Let’s go.” They headed inside, but found nothing. Yet.
“See? There’s nothing. C’mon, l-let’s just go.” There was a sound, and Sam yelped. “What the hell is that?”
”Stay behind me and keep your mouth shut.” Dean ordered. They stalked through the halls, then they split. Ivy checked on the bodies hanging from the stands, muttering under her breath. “What if that's what the Djinn does? It doesn't grant you a wish, it just makes you think it has.” Dean wondered, making her join them.
“Listen, it might come back-“
”What if I'm like her? What if I'm tied up in here some place? What if all this is in my head? I mean it could, you know, maybe it gives us some kind of supernatural acid, and then just feeds on us slow.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
”It's - it's like more and more like I'm catching flashes of reality. You know, like I'm in here somewhere, and I'm - I'm catatonic, and I'm taking all this stuff in but I, but I can't snap out of it.”
”Yeah, OK, look. Yeah, yeah, yeah, you're right. I was wrong. You're not crazy but we – we – we need to get out of here. Fast.” Sam tried to pull Dean with him, but Dean detached himself.
“I don’t think you’re real.”
Sam took Dean’s arms, gripping them tight. “Dude, you feel that? You feel this? I'm real. This is not an acid trip. I'm real, and that thing is gonna come down here and kill us for real. Now, please—“
”There’s one way to be sure.” Dean pulled out the knife.
”Woah, what are you doing?”
“It’s an old wives’ tale. If you’re about to die in a dream, you wake up.”
“No, no, no, no, no, no, no. That's crazy. All right?”
“Do it, Dean.” Ivy urged, stepping forward.
“You stay back!” Sam snapped harshly. Everyone appeared, surrounding him. “Why did you keep digging? Why couldn’t you leave well enough alone, Dean?”
“Because this isn’t real.” Dean shook his head. “Ivy’s meant to be dead.”
“She’s alive here.” Carter insisted. “You love her. Don’t lose her.”
“It's everything you want. We're a family again. Let’s go home.” Mary pleaded.
“I'll die.” Dean whispered. “The Djinn'll... drain the life out of me in a couple of days.”
“But in here, with us, it'll feel like years. Like a lifetime. I promise. No more pain. Or fear. Just love and comfort. And safety. Dean, stay with us. Get some rest.”
“You don't have to worry about Sam anymore.” Jessica smiled. “You get to watch him live a full life.”
”Don’t listen.” Ivy begged. “What’s dead should stay dead, Dean. You’re not going to get anything out of this.”
”Why is it our job to save everyone? Haven't we done enough? I'm begging you.” Sam stepped forward, holding out his hand. “Give me the knife.”
“Do it.”
“I’m sorry.” Dean lifted the knife, plunging it into himself-
I gasped, my eyes flying open as I tried to sit up, but my head collided with wood. Straight wood.
“What’s going..?” I panted, looking around, but meeting the boring sight of oak each time. “Am I in a coffin?”
I started banging on the ceiling, yelling out.
“HELLO?!”
”IS ANYONE THERE?!”
”I’M BURIED ALIVE!”
Oh boy.
A/N Time!
I feel like I should explain this episode. Dean loves Ivy, as he revealed, but his idea of a dream world with Ivy is her living the life she was supposed to, where her family’s alive. It’s also where she’s getting with him on HER terms (my sweet boy’s a gentleman) and not because it’s what he wants. And she encourages him to stab his elf because the Djinn made a mistake when interpreting that Ivy’s ‘always on Dean’s side’ because she encouraged him to break free.
Anyway, that’s enough wafflin’ from me.
Love y’all, and feel free to comment, reblog and like!
Arty :)
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#dean winchester#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#spn#supernatural#dean winchester x oc#spn masterlist#dean winchester x you#supernatural oc
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Heyy! For the drabble game, Can you write a snippet of amended the couple? More of their pregnancy adventures also during labour?
I couldn't fit labor into this one because I feel like we're all on the pregnancy journey together, but I'm sure there will be a labor one down the line, and more pregnancy drabbles ahead too. But here's a start!
Story: Amended
Characters: Jungkook & Isabella
Word Count: gf
TW: pregnancy
“Are you disappointed?”
The question, asked by her own voice in the silence of the car, echoed to Isabella. She clutched the seatbelt strap to hold it in a comfortable place; it cut across her belly and chest and collarbone and rubbed painfully with her new round shape. She looked at Jungkook driving, both his hands on the wheel, gaze focused on the road.
“Koo?”
“Hm? Disappointed?” he repeated belatedly. “About…?”
“A boy.”
She’d looked to his face as soon as the ultrasound tech had typed the words on the screen, no doctor’s official glance necessary –though the doctor had confirmed it afterwards, erasing any doubt the obvious penis could be waves reflecting off a femur or whatever it was that caused false ‘male’ identification at the eighteen weeks appointment.
Her own feelings about it had been stifled in the moment as she looked to Jungkook to see what his reaction would be.
“A boy,” he’d read the screen with that non-committal grin. His smile had that quality of Oh. That’s a piece of news. That is a thing to know. “A boy, huh?” He’d turned to Isabella, smile still empty feeling to her, hand still resting on the top of her head where it often stroked during ultrasounds, like she needed to be comforted or something. She didn’t, as each appointment so far confirmed the only thing that mattered: healthy growing baby. More like he needed to fidget because of that same confirmation: there is a baby.
Well, she might need to be comforted if Jungkook was disappointed that they were having a little boy and not a little girl. She could understand it if he was, if that’s what that look had meant. All the dreams she’d dreamed of Jungkook with a little chubby baby girl in laces and frills were dashed in one ultrasound. There was something particularly sweet about fathers of girls and Isabella knew Jungkook would be a good one after so many years now of watching him with Sorah and Amelia and of course with Lily –but Lily had already been four when he entered their lives. No Jungkook picking out little tiny dresses or playing video games with her sleeping on his chest or running around for a game of soccer with her dangling on his hip with some cheesy photo caption like “I kick like a girl? Thanks.” Or something.
“Are you asking if I'm disappointed we’re having a boy?” he clarified. He sat rigid in his seat and leaned forward a little before taking a turn. Once they were turned he gave her a scrunched forehead look which seemed way more sincere than the smiles earlier had.
“Yeah. I mean, it’s ok to admit it if you are. It’s better to just get it out right now.”
“I’m not disappointed.”
“Obviously it doesn’t mean we’ll love the baby any less or any differently if you expected one thing and it’s different. But it’s normal to have ideas about what the baby will be like or what our life will be like with it and then you have to take a moment to update those dreams when something changes.”
“That sounds like something you read on a mommy-blog.”
“I did,” she scowled. “But it’s true. Sometimes those updates are really big, like if you find out the baby isn’t healthy or there’s an issue–”
“But our baby looks healthy. Doctor said that hematoma doesn’t seem to be causing any issues with the placenta and he’s a good size.”
He.
“Yeah. I guess… I guess I kind of had this gut feeling it would be a girl,” Isabella suggested to see if she could nudge the truth out of him. “So much for mother’s intuition or whatever, huh?”
He snickered, “Yeah, I didn’t even bother guessing. I figured it would be good no matter what and it’s not like knowing he’s a boy tells us shit about him anyway. LIke is he going to be into cars? Or sports? Or dance? Or dolls?”
“You… you really didn’t have a guess? Or expectations?” she pressed. But as she racked her brain, she realized she couldn’t find a moment in which he’d suggested one way or the other. Everyone had been asking them since the moment she was showing, and now that she thought about it, Jungkook had just answered “what are you having?” each time with a glib “I can’t wait.”
“Bella, my expectations in life have never measured up to the real thing. I’m not underestimating our baby like that.”
“I’m not either!”
“No obviously you won’t, you’re the mom. You get to know all these like intimate things about them –him living in your belly. I’m just an observer though, I’m just watching you chunk up, and–”
“Jungkook!”
He laughed, “I just mean, I don’t know shit! So this is like the first little thing I get to know, other than you said the baby seems super chill so far compared to Ezra and Lily. Wonder if that will stick?”
Worried he was misunderstanding, she hurried to add, “I’m not disappointed either. I guess I had pictured you with a little girl, that’s all. Sometimes I get so focused on what I’m sure will happen and it takes me a few minutes to adjust, but I have loved having a boy and I have loved having a girl so I know it’s wonderful no matter what. But you seemed a little… off. So I thought maybe you were worrying about it…”
“I did?”
“Yeah, when they were doing the ultrasound and said it’s a boy.”
“I was definitely not disappointed. Maybe just like…” He thought about it for a moment, lips pursed before hazarding, “Shocked?”
“And even now, you look so serious and focused on driving–”
“Yeah I don’t want to get into a wreck! It’s raining and my pregnant wife is in the car with me!” he laughed. “Are you disappointed?”
“No, I said I’m not!”
“OK but are you excited?” he countered. “Did you want another girl?”
Isabella shook her head, “I don’t care about that. I have two great kids and all I care about is that I get to do this part with you and that our family is happy and safe.”
“Ok then what’s the problem?”
“There is no problem!”
But it felt like an awkward problem as they lapsed into silence. Isabella kept watching him out of the corner of her eye. It wasn’t that she felt like he was hiding things or anything, she just… she just wanted to know exactly what was going through his head. He had promised this pregnancy and baby-time would be different for her because she’d have a partner, a good partner, and part of that was knowing she wasn’t alone with the sometimes complicated thoughts and reactions that came with every step of the journey. He’d held her tight and shared his own fears when the early appearance of a large hematoma on her uterus made them worry she’d lose the baby; the hematoma had not healed on its own, but it also didn’t seem to be bothering the baby. He’d teased her about the foods she couldn’t enjoy right now and take his coffee to the other room because the smell of it right now disgusted her. He changed his aftershave because that smell disgusted her too, nauseated her. For the first time, her nose was more sensitive than his.
“You know you can tell me and I won’t judge,” he said.
“Yeah that’s what I’m saying to you!”
“Well but I’m not disappointed, and I’m not just saying that. Why would I be?”
“You’re just so good with little girls,” she pointed out.
“Uh, I’m good with little boys too,” he pouted.
“NO, I know but… but there’s something extra sweet about fathers who have no ego about doing girly things with their daughters, and you’ve always been so good about it with Lily so–”
“Yeah, it’s fun,” he agreed. “But I already have a daughter who likes those things so– oh.”
The single word felt weighted and her gaze snapped to his profile.
“What ‘oh’?” she pressed.
“Are you thinking you don’t want me to miss out on getting to be a dad like that? With ‘my own’ daughter?” She could practically hear the air quotes in his voice.
“That is not what I said or what I meant,” she quickly said.
“We already have a son and a daughter. I didn’t want a baby with you so I’d finally ‘have one,’” he insisted.
“No no, I know! I’m not saying that! That’s not at all what I meant.”
“Yeah I daydream about the things we can do with the baby and what it’ll be like, but I can already do those things with Ezra and Lily so it’s not like I miss out on anything no matter what this baby is like. I have a daughter of my own and a son of my own even though I have to share him with Landon sometimes, but it’s not like I would have felt like I was missing something even if it was another girl because I’ve already got a son! A really good one!”
“I know…” She felt like garbage that this was what he’d thought she meant, but maybe it was? Maybe she just wanted to know if those feelings were lurking there for him. Because so much of her life had felt plagued by disappointing others, and the worry that their baby might already disappoint him awoke something fierce and protective in her, even though she knew it wasn’t true, that Jungkook would adore their baby no matter what. The thoughts weren’t always logical during pregnancy. Her brain was in mother bear mode, ready to protect even against imagined threats. She had definitely not been thinking he felt like he was missing a kid, just that maybe he’d had hopes about where he was doubling up!
But now he’d ferreted out the question and he was clearly offended and she hadn’t meant it in a bad way and she was trying really hard not to cry when this was supposed to have been a really joyful, happy appointment because now they knew one more little thing about their baby and that he was healthy.
He pulled into a parking lot, she wasn’t sure why, and turned to face her in the car and admitted, “I don’t know shit about having a baby of my own, Bella. And I guess maybe some things will be easier with a boy because I’m a boy, but maybe other things would have been easier because I’ve spent more time with little girls. Probably it’ll be hard and easy either way, right? If I seemed disappointed, it’s not that, it’s just that knowing he’s a boy makes him a little more real to me now. That’s what I meant. You’re getting bigger and you said soon I’ll be able to feel him kick and it just makes me nervous! Not because he’s a boy or a girl or whoever he turns out to be, just because it’s going to be a real baby I’m going to be doing my best with from the beginning. You got Ezra and Lily started real nicely before I came along.”
“Koo…”
“And I was just thinking that, ok, Lily doesn’t have to be jealous now because she’ll get to stay my only little girl, but what about Ezra? What if he thinks like that, that now I have ‘a son of my own’ –I know people are going to say bullshit like that.”
“Yeah… well… just tell them it’s bullshit if they do.”
“Yeah, so maybe if we were having a little girl, maybe that could have been easier on Ezra. He likes having sisters. Maybe he would think it’s cool to be the only boy… but hopefully he’ll think it’s cool to have a little brother too, right? I bet this little guy is going to worship Ezra. And probably annoy the shit out of Lily once he gets to be his own little person and won’t just be a doll for her. But I don’t know! It’s crazy to meet this little baby in such a different way than I met Ezra and Lily.”
“Is that the kind of stuff you dream about for the baby?” Isabella asked. She bit her lip, trying not to laugh because she knew it would make the tears spill over. This kind of appointment was always so emotional, and this whole journey just had so much feeling in it, it set her off easily. Soona had also assured her that she, too, seemed to get hit harder with pregnancy hormones with each subsequent pregnancy. Seeing how earnestly Jungkook spoke about his fears, and that mostly he’d just been dreaming about how the baby would relate to the two perfect children they already had, it was too much.
“Yeah? I mean… I don’t really know what else to dream about…? Biohazard diapers and teething and sucking snot out of a sick baby’s nose?”
“I dream about like… giving you the baby while I go take a bath and you’re playing video games with the baby sleeping on your chest,” she said. “Or going to meet you and the kids and you’ve got like the baby strapped to your front and Ezra and Lily on each side, like a total DILF.”
He snickered and added, “Well I dream about… uh…”
“Please tell me,” she asked, pressing her fingers to his arm.
“I don’t know… it’s vague stuff mostly. Just like watching you hold a baby and knowing I gave you something you wanted, or um.. Getting to be smug to my siblings when I’m talking about what the baby is doing or how little sleep we got,” he chuckled. “Baby snuggles except I don’t have to give the baby back to its parents.”
“Koo… that’s so sweet.”
“Getting to show the baby things it’s never done before and hearing when it starts talking like me. Just a whole pile with the kids all reading books together in bed.”
“Yeah, that’ll be really nice.”
“Honestly if you had said you didn’t want anymore, I would have been happy with Ezra and Lily. It didn’t feel like anything was missing, so everything with the baby is just a bonus. I think that’s why I didn’t really care either way because it’s all just a bonus.”
“That’s how I feel too. But I want everything to be perfect for you,” she insisted. “That’s all. I wanted to give you whatever baby you felt like you still wanted and… and I guess i thought it would be cute to see you holding the little baby in dresses but we can get little suspenders too!”
“Are you saying I’m going to wear matching suspenders?”
“Yes? It’d be really hot.”
“Yes I will,” he immediately conceded. “We can get him little baby boots–”
“They’ll be too heavy to lift!”
“He’ll have really strong legs. Stronger than all the other babies,” Jungkook said, getting more animated. “He’ll like kick a kid through the wall in preschool–”
“Jungkook!”
“No, just so he knows he can… I would have taught a daughter to fight too! Lily doesn’t care at all about karate…”
“Nope.”
“It will be fun to see how this baby is like Ezra and Lily and how he’s different… I don’t know. I just think it’s great. I’m really, really not disappointed, Bella. I hope you aren’t either.”
“No, not at all. The only thing is… boy names are harder than girl names.”
“Ah… yeah, I was thinking about that.”
“You were?”
“I mean I know some boy names I like,” he said. “That’s what I was thinking about while we were driving… but it’s hard because how do you pick a name that fits a baby when you don’t even know anything about them?” He backed out of the parking space and out of the lot without further commenting on it, and she realized he had just pulled over so he could focus on the conversation. His thoughtfulness and care were astonishing; such a contrast to the idiot he’d been when they were younger.
He was going to be as good a role model for their second son about what it meant to be a good man as he was for their first son.
“It’s hard,” she admitted. “You just pick a name you like and hope it works. So tell me the names you like.”
“Ah I’ve thought about a lot. Boy names are easier than girl names so that’s a relief–”
“No, I just said they’re harder!” But hey, this could be great! If he already had some good boy names in mind, maybe the whole naming process would be simple and he’d get to pick the name completely for one of his children since he hadn’t really gotten to be a part of the other two –only a little bit with Ezra’s middle name Ryan, which she’d secretly chosen because it was the name Jungkook had wanted to adopt when he moved to America. “Tell me what you like.”
“Ok well I was trying to think of things that sound good with Ezra and Lily. It doesn’t only have to be two syllables but if it’s too long… like I really like Maverick, but we’d just be shortening it to Mav all the time like the other two so…”
“Oh.” She kept a straight face. “Maverick?”
“So since that’s too long, I like um… Gray is pretty cool. Gray Jeon, like that’s cool.”
“Mm-hm…”
“Or… or Phoenix.”
“Like the city?”
“Oh, I forgot it’s a city,” he admitted. “I was thinking like the bird. Um… I also like uh, Gage but Gage Jeon is kinda hard to say. Or Ace? Is that too… yeah I think that’s too much, it just sounds good with Ezra and Lily though.”
Isabella stared at him unblinking as he rattled off these names.
“Kaden? Does that sound too white? Or what about… Tobin? Luca, but maybe it’s too close to Lily… or Wolf.”
“Wolf,” she repeated, waiting for him to start laughing. She doubted he knew that had at least briefly been the name of a Kardashian baby. She hated that she knew that, but her office mate couldn’t quit with the celebrity gossip.
“Yeah… no?” His eyebrows raised.
“These are um, names you like? Wolf? Ace? Phoenix…”
“Phoenix would be cool because it’s got the ‘x’ in there like Ezra’s has a ‘z’.”
“Hm, yes, that’s… a point…” She ran the names through in her mind. It wasn’t like the names had to be super common or anything, though she was surprised, “You don’t want to incorporate any Korean-ness?”
“Nah, I don’t care.”
“Even though your name is very Korean?”
“Yeah, I just want his name to fit with his brother and sister. God I hated my name when I was younger. The racist bullshit I deal with because of my name– Why, did you want it to be more Korean?”
“No, I don’t care either way, I just wanted to know what you thought about it. I think your name is wonderful but you obviously have a much more informed opinion about having a name that stands out.”
“Yeah I want it to be a little interesting though, not just like… Henry or Matthew or… I don’t know. What, you don’t like Ace or Maverick or–”
“They sound like video game characters. Are they?”
“What? No… I don’t think so…” His face scrunched up, like he hadn’t actually thought of this but also wasn’t sure the answer was no.
“Not Kaden? I swear that’s in a video game…”
“I don’t know, that one doesn’t bother me,” he shrugged. “But it’s not my favorite.”
“Which is your favorite?” she was almost afraid to ask.
“Legend. That’s pretty– ok, I can tell by your face you don’t like that. That was instant!”
“Where are these names coming from?” she laughed. “Oh god, this is going to take some time… ok, just keep writing down the names you like.”
“You don’t like any of those?!” he cried.
“Um… not… yet… sometimes it takes time for a name to grow but…”
“Phoenix Jeon, come on, that’s so cool.”
“Wait, that is a video game character! That attorney game! I see it in memes all the time!”
“Oh, I didn’t think about that! I was just thinking about the cool firebird –hey, do you think I should say something to Ezra or no?”
“About what?”
“Well we’ll tell the kids tonight we’re having a boy, right? Should I proactively say something to him about how he’s still my first son? Or just act like it doesn’t even occur to me he’d be worried about that?”
Isabella smiled and let her hand rest on his thigh as he drove. Leave it to Jungkook to be the best dad but have terrible taste in names.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe hold off unless we see he’s upset about something. I think we’ll be able to tell.”
“Yeah, or I can just kind of feel him out, maybe later this week I can ask him to help me figure something out –ah! He can help me build the crib and I’ll ask him about having a little brother and see if I can feel out if he’s upset or anything…”
“I love you,” she said, squeezing his leg. “Sorry if I accidentally implied anything– I definitely didn’t mean that I think you don’t think of Ezra and Lily as yours or anything shitty like that. I just want to know everything you’re thinking, that’s all. I want everything to be perfect for you. I want to know that you’re as happy as you deserve to be.”
“Bella,“ he laughed. “It is perfect, no matter what, because it’s the two of us. This whole thing is fun and I’m down for whatever happens. I’m really grateful you were willing to go through it all again for me.”
“With you,” she clarified.
“Yeah, with. So don’t say you want it to be perfect ‘for’ me. It’s already perfect for me. Oh god what if he’s like a super jock? But a daughter could be too… I draw the line at having to be at hockey matches at 7am every Saturday. That’s the one thing that will disappoint–”
“Don’t say it!” she cried. “Don’t you know that as soon as you say something like that, it’s bound to come true?!”
“Ok, ok, I take it back, universe. Hockey is fine. It’s fine!”
The laughter was easier now. Jungkook pressed his hands to hers, lacing their fingers together –apparently comfortable with it as the rain let up.
“Ah,” he sighed, “I just realized, in Korea they would call him Jeon Legend, so that’s out.”
“That’s why you think that name is out?”
“Ok maybe I just need to think of names you hate even more to bring you around on Phoenix…”
“Good luck.”
“Also another thing I’m dreaming about is your tits, I can’t believe they’re going to get even bigger than this–”
“Jungkook!”
“Dreaming about a lot of things I can do with those…”
It got them laughing though, and Isabella’s thinking updated as they drove with this newest bit of information. She believed Jungkook was happy. She felt it. She felt her own happiness adjust and grow as well. A boy. Another son. Instead of lace and ruffles and bows –which, to be clear, she had not really dressed Lily in either until she was old enough to demand them– she saw… little suspenders, baby bucket hats, whatever else– it didn’t matter, clothes weren’t important. More importantly, a happy little baby with a chubby hand against Jungkook’s tattooed arm, little cheeks (dimpled?) pressed against his shoulder in slumber, maybe her first baby with hair to breathe in the wonderful clean scent of after a baby bath. Boy, girl, none of that mattered, and she was soothed that it didn’t matter to Jungkook either, that he didn’t have some perfect and specific idea of what parenthood from the start would be like that she had to try and make happen. He was down for whatever came with it. She was too. Which was good because nothing would go as planned, and they wouldn’t be able to actually predict anything.
“Jungkook.”
“Yeah baby?”
“I’m so hungry I think I’m going to die.”
“Turning into Wendy’s now,” he laughed, signaling for the exit. “Yeah?”
“I was thinking Subway…”
“Don’t say it.”
“A tuna sub just sounds so good… what about Tuna Jeon?”
“Ok come on, my names aren’t like that!”
“Alpha? Why not Alpha? That’s what your names are all implying.”
“They aren’t! I bet the kids will love my name ideas.”
“That isn’t the brag you think it is….”
“You’re seeming cranky, let’s get you a sub,” he teased. “Can’t believe our baby is starting off with bad taste but it’s fine, it’ll get better once he’s born, I know it.”
“Not if he’s named King Jeon. Sorry, no child of ours can pull that off. I think we’re more a Naruto family…”
“Oh god what if he hates anime?? Ok. It’s fine. I’ll still love him. We’ll find other things to do together… I’ll go watch him in marching band or whatever…”
“There you go, that’s the spirit. Now drive faster, seriously, my stomach is eating itself, I’m so hungry.”
“Didn’t you bring a snack in your purse? I reminded you before we left!”
“I already ate it! Your baby is eating everything already!”
He chuckled, “Yeah, maybe he’ll like food a lot, we can cook together…”
“Drive, Jeon.”
“Ok… Driver? Driver Jeon?”
“No!”
#amended#jungkook ff#jeon jungkook ff#jungkook x oc#jeon jungkook x oc#jungkook x reader#jungkook fanfic#jungkook established relationship#dad jungkook#dilf jungkook#jungkook fluff#jeon jungkook fluff
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🥺🛒✨🍦🍷❌🎃👀
JAYNE THIS IS COMPREHENSIVE AF sdlkfjlkds ahahahaha but omg thank you very much for these! also obligatory butts~
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🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?
i love, like, the quiet moments.
like this is any moment and im so sorry that's so dlsfkjldskf vague, but when things go microscopic and all is quiet, if that makes sense? so say, in that stuck in the elevator fic i talked about, it's when lily and james were just talking in a stuck elevator.
i kind of like those because it's quiet, and it's just the characters, and nothing matters outside of their bubble. it's just really nicely intimate so i tend to write more of those.
🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.
okay! so obvious one is fluff.
just fluff lmao. like most of the things i write are fluff. also some angst sometimes, but it's mostly fluff. i like soft and romantic things so it's really what i want to write about. i love writing characters being in love and writing those quiet, in love moments that they share. it's become a bit of a barrier just because when i tend to write, it always ends up fluffy when, for example, i intended the story to be dark or sexy or something. i don't know lol. but yeah lots of fluff.
also lots of em dashes, this is more of a writing thing. i know i tend to use em dashes a lot.
before i used to start my stories with dialogue a lot. because it's always what i've been comfortable with. but then one day i was writing a chapter for an original story and i paused and realised: "the past three chapters have all opened with dialogue, wtf". so not only did i change that chapter lmao but also kind of made myself mindful of how i start stories in the future.
themes of love. always love. used to be, like, romantic love, but over the years i've explored love that relates more to family. again, it's just something i want to write. not to say i can't write any other genre than love, but it has to have that element somewhere.
there was a time where i always included like, mugs or cups filled with hot liquids and the steam just curls up in the air lol. i feel like that alone sets the tone of things when i write. like always cosy, i guess, but it's kind of a versatile cosy, if that makes sense lol.
this is more of a bad habit, but i know i tend to over explain or over describe things. and i know my readers are intelligent af and can figure out things from how i implied it in my stories, but i still worry that my meaning's not coming across so i tend to over do the prose and end up with blocks upon blocks of unnecessary prose lol.
✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉
*pats back* that'll do, piggy, that'll do. :D
🍦 What's the sweetest fic you've created so far?
sweetest!? oh gosh...
okay, i have two. i don't know if it's necessarily the sweetest fic i've done, but:
balderdash is one. that's i guess the published one. i seem to have a favourite of exploring just what happens if james and lily lived beyond... or i guess, just living as a young couple about to be parents. because we never really got to see them as parents or how they even coped with being expectant parents and then becoming parents; it's always fun to explore. and, not to sound sentimental, also just give them a chance to live happily lol.
unpublished is this modern au oneshot of lily and james being stuck in an elevator and bonding that way. i had a whole backstory included in it which kind of morphed the one-shot into a multi-chap fic. me during that time just lose steam every time i come across something i have to do myself lol. sorry for being lazy. anyway! snippet of the story below.
p.s. the writing's super rough because it's been stuck in draft mode.
“You reckon we should’ve thrown them a crisp or something?” Sirius asked as he munched on a handful of Pringles. Things are getting interesting now—the couple seemed to be on their third laugh trip. The first one lasted for a good two minutes and after, they no longer played the game as their conversation restarted as though it had never paused in the first place. While everyone in the security room did, they seemed to never noticed how they never moved away or how their hands remained together.
“And risk ourselves being found out?” Harry exclaimed. “No. No way.”
“Speaking of,” Cresswell interjected and gave the troublemakers a stern glance. “What happens after this?”
“After what?” Sirius replied.
“We very well can’t keep these two in the lift forever.”
“Can’t we?”
“No.”
“Why not? The building has another operational lift, yeah?”
“Black, I swear to God—”
“Call Frank?” Harry quipped, making the adults look at him.
“Oi—good thinking, Harry! And it’s his day off too” Sirius ruffled Harry’s hair before pulling out his mobile.
“Who the hell’s Frank?” Dirk asked Harry.
Harry shrugged as he kept his eyes stuck to the monitors. “Dad and Sirius’ mate in the Yard.”
Now, the feed showed that Lily and James had finally separated; they resumed their positions of sitting against the wall. They continued to talk, though, the smiles on their faces seemed a permanent thing now. Harry couldn’t help smiling as he recognised the expression on his father’s face… the kind James always wore when he was in love—gentle, helpless, and full of love. Harry’s mother was the only receiving end of such expression until she left. To see it after all these years made Harry more certain of his decision. Lily and his dad were meant to be together—he knew it.
🍷 Do you drink and write?
alcoholic? no, i'm not that sophisticated.
coffee and tea? for sure. also unavoidable when i write in cafes, like my local starbucks, though i usually just order the iced teas there. when i decide to write i sit there for a solid 6-8 hours so i have to plan and like... drink maybe a grande size for the first three hours and then venti in the next three just so i don't fill my bladder immediately ldsjdslkjfd. tmi but yeah. but yeah all iced teas, food at the side too so i have energy lol.
❌ What's a trope you will never write?
ohhh. omg okay. okay just a disclaimer that my answer to this question isn't like a blanket "i hate these trope" but more of a "i don't feel i can do this justice".
abo - because i don't understand enough of this to do it justice. i mean, i've read it, and i understand the concept but then i fear that if i write it, it would just automatically go into furry territory. which isn't bad, of course, but yeah.
🎃 Do you write fics for certain holidays? Which is your favorite holiday inspired fic?
yes i did!
pretty sure i wrote one for halloween, which celebrated the season but also the death anniversary of jily. that one's my favourite one just because, wow, i managed to write something that reflects the cosiness of the season.
you know what, i think halloween is my most written season just because i also wrote a macblack fic for it too. not necessarily my favourite just because of how lengthy it became and i remember losing steam, as i usually do when it dawns on me that, holy shit, what i've written was longer than intended.
but yeah. gotta love that spooky season!
in saying that i would like to write something for christmas (sorry i know this isn't part of the questions but shhh shhh it's gonna be okay). and other holidays like easter??? i think ahahaha like bunnies and easter chocolates. but yeah, future plans!
👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!
i'm writing a blackdonald fic inspired by a new hozier song, "too sweet" (which is like the most perfect sirius black song i've heard in a while. fight me on this). look, i only have dialogue because that tends to stick with me first. the dialogue comes first and i just stitch it together with prose dlkfjdlsfjfld. but, yeah, nothing too special, it's a one-shot, uhm... sexy??? i think??? well i'll try to make it sexy, you know i've only ever written... uh... one official smut. so. you know.
anyway, here's a snippet lol:
“You just got cheated on.”
“I’m also not your type.”
“Fuck it.”
do with that what you will. even i don't know where it goes after this lmao.
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brothers in arms time!!!
ethan saying he even knows which vending machines require exact change, he has his priorities straight
not robyn saying “my gaydar never fails”
i remember seeing my mum watching the limo scenes and crash when this aired before i started properly watching
ethan and cal’s first patients really set up their characters well: ethan’s being a medical mystery and cal’s being a seventeen year old he slept with the night before
cal’s face when zoe calls ethan over shskdkfkf
they just immediately start arguing and zoe’s stood between them like what on earth is going on shsjdkfj
“we spent the whole day together yesterday” “yeah and you were already in a funny mood” “it was mum’s funeral!” and zoe’s like🤨
“don’t get giddy about the dashing dr knight, all he watches on tv are kids cartoons and his suture work before midday is shocking, before his hands stop shaking” LMAOOO GET HIM
it’s so weird seeing them smoke. does anyone know which series they stopped showing smoking on screen?
patient’s mum: do you have children?
cal: not that i know of
isn’t it so weird how cal slept around so much and yet ethan’s the one who ended up with an unplanned baby sjskdkdk i think he took be more cal a bit too far
jeff and dixie🥺
“so cal’s your brother?” “yes” “he’s absolutely nothing like you” “thank you lily i appreciate that” SJSKDKFKFK
i love how at first lily found ethan annoying but then she met cal and was like yknow what ethan’s not so bad
it’s interesting how their mum was cremated and so was emilie but cal wasn’t, i wonder how the writers decide. maybe it’s just whichever works best for the plot they want.
cal saying ethan’s all the family he’s got left when they definitely still have some aunts out there??? i guess he means immediate family?
uh oh absolutely nothing good came out of cal and fletch’s friendship
cal making ethan go to collect their mum’s ashes by himself and then inviting everyone else to the pub. man he was such a dickhead at the beginning
#classic casualty#brothers in arms#bbc casualty#putting this in the tag because im annoying#casualty
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i gotta Juke AU story
————
this is inspired by this one filipino movie i watched “para sa hopeless romantic” but julie and luke go to the same uni and julie writes a random line of lyrics on a schools desk and luke writes the next lines when he’s in his class. the next day julie sees someone finished her lyrics and they end up having a finished song throughout the week. they obviously end up falling in love with each other’s words but one day the desks in that classroom were thrown out so julie and luke try and find the desk and run into each other only for Luke to find out it’s Julie, his crush since the beginning of school, and Julie finds out it’s Luke, they boy who she’s been eyeing ever since she’s first seen him. honestly this is all over the place. this is just another random college au. tehe
I DID NOT KNOW THIS WAS FROM A FILIPINO MOVIE!
I have much more pride in my culture now you have no idea haha! But no really, Filipino movies can be the cheesiest, silliest, most cliche things I’ve ever seen. And I mean that endearingly.
So it makes total sense that this super cute trope that I see popping up in different fandoms came from a Filipino movie.
I think I’ve seen an iteration of this on AO3 and it was super cute! (But I think it was more like leaving a piece of paper on a desk).
But yes, yes , YES.
Juke is the perfect ship for this.
Hmm... I think it would be an interesting take, because my mind went to Luke first, if it was Julie who would start it- yes I agree with you.
It is canon that Luke helped Julie finish the song that she had been working on with her mom (’Stand Tall’), so might as well run with it.
Maybe during her quiet year, where she didn’t sing or play piano, she often found herself doodling a lot. She kinda threw herself into drawing. It was her creative outlet that brought her comfort during these rough times.
She’d have trouble paying attention in class sometimes, and so she would end up doodling.
Now, I used to have a history class that frowned upon doodling in notebooks. The notebooks would be graded, and if there is a non-history, non-relevant doodle in the margins or anything- you get points docked off.
So Julie, like me, tried remedying this by doodling on post it notes to avoid getting in trouble.
But one day, Julie forgets or runs out of post it notes, and she’s only got her history notebook and textbook with her. And since she has no qualms marking up her jeans and shoes, she thought she’d be discrete and doodle on the desks.
Not like anyone would have a problem with that anyway. These desks are old af and scratched up and had doodles on them already.
She would start drawing her usual stuff- funky creatures, bubble letter-ed profanities, etc.
But then she starts thinking about her mom, she starts doodling dahlias and even a rose in one corner. Memories start flooding back and she starts absentmindedly writing down a lyric of a song they never finished, just bits of pieces figured out:
‘Don’t blink...no, I don’t want to miss it’
She didn’t think to erase it. Just grabbed her stuff and went to her next class.
The following day however, she pulls out her post-notes (after getting more) and is about to doodle when she sees a new scribble on the corner of the desk where she wrote her lyrics.
Squinting, she realizes those are words (geez, the penmanship sucks). But she was able to make it out:
‘One thing, and it's back to the beginning’
It’s written right under her line. And she reads them together-
Wow. This sounds... pretty good.
She quickly jots this mysterious new addition to the song in her post-notes, but not before giving writing another shot and provide another line. Curious, if she would get another response.
She does.
And it’s perfect.
It’s been a year, a year since she felt the urge to write, to think about music- but, when all the lyrics fall into place, Julie is suddenly inspired to continue.
She spends the entire class thinking about how to reply, how to keep the momentum of this song going.
When she gets it, she writes it down underneath the new line. And waits.
And like clockwork, next day she sits down and there’s a new addition.
First verse done- Julie couldn’t believe it.
Smiling, she records it all and had to erase everything from before to make more room.
‘Thanks’ she writes ‘Keep going?’
The reply the next day has her grinning from ear to ear:
‘I’m game :)’
And that’s how it goes: Another day, Another killer line.
Julie would rush from her next class, confusing Flynn who did not think she would be so excited going to history, smile on her face, anticipating another message from this mystery writing partner.
Sometimes, she gets too caught up in her head, eagerly thinking up new lines that she often doesn’t watch where she’s going. One time, she pretty much embarrassed herself while bumping into the cute Luke Patterson in her rush to History.
(She practically fell on him and he tried to talk to her after, but she jumped out of his arms before whatever awkward conversation that was bound to happen if she stayed).
Julie and her pen pal would keep working on the song, even came up with a system to let each other know if they’ve finished a verse.
And sometimes it’s not just lyrics. Julie draws her normal doodles next to her lines, and she’s delighted to find even more ridiculous ones waiting for her when she gets back.
There was one time when she’s had to stifle a laugh because a crude caricature of their History teacher in their corner, yelling out the next lyric:
‘I'm goin’ out of my mind!’
(Glad to know someone else shares the same sentiments about their strict history teacher.)
They finish her mom’s song and Julie’s glad... grateful even. But she couldn’t help but feel disappointed... assuming it’s over.
But come Monday the following weekend, her pen pal decided to leave another line-
‘Running from the past... Tripping on the now’
and a new comment:
‘My turn now?’
A new song, and Julie grins, already coming up with ideas...
She loves writing again, especially music. Sparked by this exchange, she eases herself back into listening to music again, looking for inspiration to use for the song she and her mysterious partner are working on.
And writing with this person... is really something else.
But Julie’s favorite part of the whole experience really is the comments written on the upper corner. Stuff like:
‘This part is killer!’
‘Mindreader, much? :P’
‘Wrecking ball at it again. So talented :)’
and her favorite:
‘You make me a better writer...’
She ducks down so no one can see her blush as she writes back:
‘I think we make each other better...’
Flynn one day tells her straight up she’s got a crush on her pen pal, to which Julie denies because how could she have a crush on someone she doesn’t even know.
But as she thinks about it.. she feels like she does. Or at least know enough to establish this sort of connection that feels like they’re in each other’s heads, know how the other person thinks, inspiring the other.
It was... special.
Flynn suggests that she needs to figure out who is leaving these notes. But it’s hard seeing as though Julie has the class in an earlier period, a bunch of other classes are held in the same room after she leaves.
(Flynn tries a sting operation, but ends up getting caught ditching class before she could solve the mystery).
Julie’s worried though. As much as she wants to figure out who this great pen pal is, she wonders if they would be disappointed to find out they’ve been writing her. And not someone as cool and as pretty as Carrie Wilson or her friend Kayla. It’s hard to live up to those expectations.
In the end, she wants to know. At least so she could maybe thank them in person, for helping bring music back into her life and for making history class the highlight of her day.
She decides this right before they break for Thanksgiving. She writes down:
‘I wanna meet you. Can we talk?’
And she’s on pins and needles the entire break, just wondering what her pen pal would say back. ‘Yes’, ‘no?’.
But what she finds when she comes back from break is so much worse than the fear of rejection.
They got new desks.
Their school finally got their shit together and replaced their old, worn down desks.
‘No, no, no, no, no’.
That means she’ll never know what her penpal end up replying...
She runs out of class and finds Flynn, panicked, she tells her what happened. And Flynn does some digging, and she’s able to find out where the janitors dumped the old desks.
Julie totally underestimates just how desperate she is in finding out the identity of her pen pal because she finds herself sneaking back to school at night with Flynn, seeking out the lot behind school where the dumpsters were piled high with the old desks.
Flynn, the ride or die she is, armed with a flashlight, starts taking out the desks along with Julie, and there are... a lot of desks.
They go at it for an hour, and the situation starts to look hopeless, especially when Flynn discovers a whole new set of dumpsters with desks that they haven’t even checked yet.
They’re about to throw in the towel-
But then they hear voices.
Quickly, they hide behind a dumpster right when three guys, with flashlights, come onto the scene.
“Dude, I can’t believe we’re here at this hour-”
“Oh my god. There’s like a boatload of stuff here-”
“Guys. Can you not? And please help me? It’s gotta be here somewhere”.
They sound... familiar. They were definitely not the custodians.
Risking it, Julie leaves her hiding spot-
“Luke?”
Luke Patterson jumps and whips around to face her, “Julie?”
Behind him are his bandmates, Alex and Reggie. Everyone looks at each other confused.
“What are you doing here?” he asks.
“I...uh, I’m-” Julie stammers, “Well-”
Flynn cuts in, “She’s looking for something,”
Luke nods, “Really? So are we.”
Alex scoffs, “Nope. Just you, dude. But we’re helping.”
“Maybe we can help you too?” Reggie offers, “What are you looking for?”
Julie sighs, “... a desk?”
“Well... you came to the right place...” Luke laughs, shining his flashlight on the dumpsters, “Funny enough that’s what we’re looking for too.”
“One in particular?”
Then the guy gets all clammed up, “Uh... yeah. I think... I might have... left something... in it. Something important.”
“How about we all look together?” suggests Flynn, “Help each other out?”
And so they exchange the descriptions on the desk, with Julie leaving out the glaring obvious detail of the note.
They’re surprised to find out that they’re looking for the same kind of desk. The ones they used in a particular building at school, the same one her history class is in.
So they break off and search. And she ends up in the same dumpster as Luke.
“So what’s in your desk?” he ends up asking.
“Huh?”
“You know... that’s so important that you’re here on a Friday night, digging through a dumpster,”
“Right... uh,” Julie scrambles for an answer, “There’s something on- I mean, in the desk... that really helped me. I was going through a hard time. Lost my mom last year-”
Luke stops his search, “Oh, I’m so sorry-”
“It’s okay. I just...” she sighs, finding another desk that looks like hers but not quite, “I just want to find it...”
“I get it. Hopefully we can find your desk.”
“Hopefully we’ll find yours too,”
After another 20 minutes searching, Julie finds it. At the very bottom of the dumpster. Luke’s face lights up once she brings it out.
“Oh my god, you found it!” He exclaims, hands gripping the edge to take it off her hands.
She tugs it back, “Yeah... I found it... my desk,”
“Your desk? But this is my-” he breaks off, eyes widening, “Wait. Are you...?”
“Am I what?”
Luke drops the desk, clears his throat, and starts reciting:
‘I believe... I believe that we're just one dream...’
Julie gasps, then continues:
“Away from who we're meant to be...”
Then together: “That we're standing on the edge of...”
“...great.” Luke finishes, in awe, “You! You’re ‘Lyric Girl’!”
“You’re my pen pal?” Julie says in disbelief.
Luke Patterson has been her pen pal this entire time? The cutie with the cutoffs? It makes total sense. He’s in a rock band and the songs she’s heard from them have amazing lyrics.
Wait... she has been lowkey crushing on Luke Patterson through his words...
“Wow, it’s you! Luke... wow...” she honestly has no words. They used to come easy to her when she talks to him via the desk, but now, after finding out that the local heartthrob is her writing partner, she’s super nervous.
“Look... if you’re disappointed that it’s me... I get it. I’ll give you an out, and you won’t ever have to talk to me again-”
“Julie-”
“-like this is weird- this is weird right? But I mean what we had was nice and all-”
“Julie, can you-?”
“-we don’t ever have to talk about this if you don’t-”
“Julie!” He reaches for her hands and intertwines their fingers, shutting her up.
“Yeah...?”
He takes a deep breath before saying: “Why would I ever be disappointed that it’s you? I’ve... got like a mad crush on you since freshman year...”
Julie choked, “Wait, what?”
“Voice of an angel and wicked beauty to boot? How could I not?” he smiles, “And... finding out that you’re my mystery muse is just... you don’t know how happy that makes me.”
His smile drops and he’s all the sudden bashful, “Wait... are you disappointed that it’s me?”
She shakes her head, “No, no! That’s not why! It’s just... you’re this rockstar in the making! I didn’t think- I didn’t think you’d ever pay attention to me.”
“I do... I do pay attention,” he looks down at their desk, “Well... maybe not enough attention, otherwise we would have met sooner.”
She laughs, “Totally,”
They stand there for a while, grinning at each other like idiots.
“So...” Julie decides to jump the gun, “Do you... maybe wanna grab something to eat?”
Luke raises an eyebrow, “Are you asking me out, Julie?”
She blushes, “Maybe,”
“Interesting,”
“So what’s your answer?”
He leans in, “Might wanna look down,” he whispers.
She does, right on their desk and finally reads the reply she’s spent weeks thinking about.
‘Tell me where and when...
I’ll be there...’
Needless to say, but that from that day on- they don’t need to use their desk to talk anymore...
#this... has been sitting in my inbox#and finally I have answered!#I LOVE THIS CONCEPT#giving me the same vibes as my imaginary friends penpal juke idea#i guess this means i just... love Dash & Lily#julie and the phantoms#jatp#julie and the himbos#juke#palina#juke-box#julie x luke#luke x julie#julie molina#luke patterson#how many times am i gonna sneak in 'wicked beauty' in whatever I write?
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The Yule Ball
MASTERLIST
(James organizes 'date tryouts' to find his sister the perfect date)
Word Count: 3.8 k
Warnings: swearing, general stupidity and Remus Lupin's nice arse.
Author’s Note: Thank you for your support! Btw this is one of my favs
******
The Great Hall was always a mess at breakfast time, but since Professor Dumbledore had announced a Christmas Ball was going to be held at the school; students seemed more talkative than usual. Mary MacDonald was by far the most excited at the Gryffindor table, she had never attended any event of the sort and could not talk about anything else. Her friends indulged her conversation, but secretly they were just as eager as her, if not more.
And being friends with some of the most attractive and funny people on campus, Mary would not drop the subject of ball dates until she saw all her friends happily paired up.
“Come on guys, you have to bring dates!” she begged.
Marlene decided to use that instance to ask Dorcas Meadowes to be her date. Although it was quite a dull and friendly-sounding proposal, she accepted and softly muttered something along the lines of “took you long enough”. Marlene was the only person who was not aware of the hints Dorcas had been dropping her.
Lily hadn´t received any invitations yet. She was new to this type of uncertainty. In the past, she would have just gone with Severus Snape, but after he showed his true colors, they were no longer on speaking terms. He still glanced at her longingly- or as Marlene would say: ‘creepy as shit’-.
“What do you mean you have received no invitations?” asked Mary “Not even from Potter?”
“Not even from him” Lily said, “now that think about it, that’s weird”
“Not as weird as his morning hair, trust me” the girls looked up to see Y/N Potter sitting down with them, closely followed by her brother and his friends.
“Y/N hey!” Mary said “We were talking about the ball. I’m so excited, are you excited?”
She smiled warmly at Mary “Yes, I am. But not as excited as Peter”
The girls looked at Peter curiously. “I have a date” he said shyly, as if he feared they would laugh at him. But his worries were groundless, because he received plenty of congratulations.
“What about you Potter?” asked Marlene, teasingly “Is any special lady going with you?”
“Not yet” he said “I have my eye on someone, I’m just waiting for the right moment”. He didn’t look up, afraid to find Lily’s disgusted glare, or meeting a ‘in your dreams Potter’. But if he had looked up, he would have met her green eyes, silently pleading him to ask her.
Remus mentioned receiving few invitations from members of his study club. He hadn’t accepted any offer yet, afraid to hurt somebody’s feelings. Y/N and Sirius did not miss the chance to tease him about being ‘the Casanova of Gryffindor Tower’, ‘Ravenclaw’s husband’ or ‘the culprit of their Remusexuality’.
Mary proceeded to ask Sirius about who he was going to take. He just flashed her a smile and told her that he hated to disappoint her, but he would be remaining dateless. According to him, plenty of pretty ladies and dashing lads would need a shoulder to cry on when their dates ditched them.
“Great, that means we’ll be rid of you” Marlene said “I wouldn’t put it above you to flirt with my woman after a few shots”.
He smiled a her. “Oh no McKinnon, you’ll all dance with me love. Friends before sex”.
Marlene just muttered “disgusting”, and Y/N snorted. “I kinda second Sirius” she said, “I want to dance with all of you at least once, my date will have to suck it”.
James chocked on his pumpkin juice. He was just realizing his sister would have a date, and he was not very pleased about it. “You have a date?” he asked “And you didn’t tell me? I’m your brother!”
“I don’t have a date yet” she said “But I guess someone will eventually ask me”.
“Oh Merlin” James went pale “Men are going to ask you to go with them”.
“Yes, dear brother” She sighed, taking a sip from her cup “I believe that’s how getting a date usually works”.
“Usually” he repeated, a scary playful gleam in his eyes. He leaned and proceeded to whisper something into Sirius’ ear. He smiled and whispered the same thing to Remus and Peter. The former frowned, the latter exploded in giggles; nodding enthusiastically. James and Sirius stood on the table, shouting to get everyone’s attention. Professor McGonagall sighed from the teacher’s table, carefully taking out her detention slip.
“Dear alumni of Hogwarts” Sirius started, as if he was presenting some kind of award “It has come to our attention that some of you have already asked that special someone to accompany you to the Christmas Ball”
James positioned himself in front of Sirius to continue their speech “But we some news for all the gentlemen with enough balls to-“ He was cut short by Professor McGonagall’s exasperated voice “Language Potter!”. He gave her an apologetic smile, although clearly, he was not sorry at all. “Sorry Minnie” he said “We have some news for all the gentlemen who wish to invite my sister”.
Y/N could not believe her ears. “James sit the fuck down this instant” she pleaded “I’m going to end up dateless you prick”. She attempted to tackle him down, but Remus’ strong arms held her firmly in place. He promised to release her when they had finished their speech. The smile on his lips told her he was clearly having way too much fun with the situation.
“In order to be the lucky lad leading my sister into the ballroom you must be approved by every member of the Marauders- “
“Oi I want in” Marlene argued. He gave her a complicit smile and nodded.
“You must be approved by every Marauder, plus McKinnon”.
“And McKinnon knows everything, so if you don’t plan on being perfectly proper, she will know” Sirius added.
“We will hang up a piece of parchment outside the Gryffindor common room for you to sign up to the ehm…tryouts?” James continued “Anyways, Lupin agreed to charm it to keep the participants anonymous, so you don’t have to worry about the embarrassment of others knowing who were not deemed fit to be Y/N’s companion”. He was ready to get off the table when he seemed to remember something important “Oh and if any bloke asks her without my permission…”
“We’ll break the git’s face” finalized Sirius.
“Language Black!”
“Sorry Minnie!”
They were almost seated when Sirius’ eyes shined with mischief. He stood on the bench, shouting at the teacher’s table “Minnie, would you be my date?”
“Absolutely not Mr. Black. Please be seated”
“I love you anyway Minnie!” he responded. Many people laughed along with the Marauders, even Professor McGonagall, who was trying really hard to hide her amusement.
When the laughter had died, Y/N proceeded to threaten to kill James and Sirius, and expanded on the details on how she would dispose of their bodies. She didn’t shut up until Peter reminded her how counterproductive was informing the victims about her plan.
After her classes, Y/N came back to the common room more composed, carrying a gorgeous bouquet of wild flowers James had asked her to collect while she was in Care for magical Creatures. She was still pissed at him, but sibling support came first. She found him staring at Lily longingly. Softly, she tapped him on the shoulder and handed him the flowers. “Go get her Romeo”.
“Romeo dies”.
“Merlin, I’m just encouraging you. Now get a grip and go ask her”
He walked up to Lily. He was doing an excellent job in hiding his nervousness, his walk was way too confident for anyone to suspect he was anything but sure he would get a positive answer.
He handed her the bouquet before he began his monologue. “I have struggled in vain, and I can bear it no longer. Please Lily-Flower allow me to tell you how much I admire…and love you. I am asking you to end my agony and be my date for the Yule Ball”.
She looked at him for a second, before letting out a laugh. “James, you know Mr. Darcy gets rejected right?”
After that James could no longer hide his nerves. He was a mumbling mess. “Yes, of course I knew that. But you said it was one of your favourite books, so I read it…and it was great by the way, though I don’t know what’s the deal with Mr. Collins that man is so weird…and I heard Y/n/n say you thought the first proposal was brilliant, and I couldn’t use the second proposal without a first proposal, so I figured- “
“James” she interrupted him and gracefully smelled the flowers. She gave him a smile that made his heart beat a little bit faster. “I liked it. Really. That’s why I’m accepting, I’ll be my pleasure to be your date James Potter”.
James let out a soft grin of genuine happiness, picked her up and spun her around; blurting out a chorus of “thank you” ‘s as she laughed.
Y/N watched them from afar, muttering a playful “ugh”.
“You don’t really think it’s disgusting” Sirius said, popping up next to her “You think it’s cute”.
“You are right” she answered “It’s adorable. I’m just sulking because I have nobody to be cute with”.
He wanted to let her know she had someone. Him. He wanted to give her flowers, hug her and peck kisses all over her face. He was dying to tell her about the overwhelming nature of his feelings. But he just couldn’t tell her. Her family had welcomed him into their home. Her parents had treated him like a son, he couldn’t repay them by telling their daughter his only ambition was to give her his name. So instead, he chose to change the subject and ignore the pain in his chest.
“So, no one’s dared to ask you without going through Jamesie first, eh?” he teased “Who knew Prongsie and I were so…intimidating”.
She laughed at his statement. “I just don’t think any lad fancies a dung bomb in their breakfast” she said “Anyways, even if someone had asked, I couldn’t have said yes. You boys already announced your little matchmaking game to the whole school.”
“Yeah, sorry about that, but we needed to make sure you don’t end up going with some idiot”.
“Oh, come on, there’s probably like two people on that list of yours, at least allow me choose the least ugly one”.
“Hey you are not settling! We are getting you the best date”.
“Well, I need to go the library, there’s a book on Transfiguration calling my name. Want to come?”
“I don’t know, Pince’s been bloody annoying lately. Plus, I don’t like Transfiguration books sweetheart.”
“Oh, I think you’ll like this one. Its about changing people’s hair color. Fancy seeing a redhead Malfoy?”
“Oh, you trickster. I’m in, let’s go”.
The Marauders and Marlene were in the common room, each of them holding a pen and a notepad. Everyone was seated, except for James, who was standing and giving instructions.
“Ok lads and lady, are we ready?” everyone nodded “We only have a few hours before Y/n/n returns from her detention. And thank you Peter for taking a picture of redhead Malfoy, I will forever treasure it”.
“Why did she do it” asked Marlene “Don’t get me wrong, it was hilarious, but why?”
“He called me ‘the Marauders’ basket case’” Peter said shyly “I feel kind of guilty about it”
“Don’t be Pete” Remus said warmly, smiling from his position close to the fire “She quite enjoyed it. She also wanted to punch him muggle-style. She’s pissed I stopped her”
Marlene snorted and exploded in laughter, trying to breathe as she continuedly repeated “Jesus fucking Christ”
After Marlene’s outburst, they began what James decided to call ‘the date tryouts’. But after the last boy left the dorm room, they still had not found anyone deemed worthy. There was not a lack of suitors, nevertheless they all seemed to have unforgivable faults.
“Boring” said Sirius.
“Ugly as fuck” commented Remus.
“Dumbest man I’ve ever met” Marlene would add.
Peter though they all were decent blokes, contrary to James’ belief that every single boy was a dirty pig.
“This is useless” he finally said “No one is good enough for Y/N. What are we going to do?”
“Sirius could ask her” Marlene suggested “He has no date yet, and I’m sure he’ll spend the whole night with us anyway”
“Marly, all those single students wont console themselves” he responded.
“C’mon” she said “Y/N is your friend; you can give up being a whore for one night”.
Before Sirius and Marlene could start bickering, Remus’ voice cut off their argument.
“I could take her” he said “I haven’t answered any invitations yet, and I am sure Y/n/n won’t like going alone after the whole show you put up in the Great Hall”.
“Moony would you do that?” James asked hopefully “Really?”
“Of course, I would, given I fit your requirements”
“Oh, you do Moony. You are bloody perfect”
Remus blushed softly at the praise. It was always hard for him to accept compliments.
“Aww Moony you are so cute” commented Peter.
“Yeah, Y/N and you will look so adorable” Marlene added “I will have to lend her my highest heels though, you are definitely one of the tallest blokes on campus”.
“Moony you can’t take her” Sirius blurted out before he could stop himself.
“Why not? He’s perfect” James said.
Marlene started laughing. “Someone’s jealous” she teased.
“I’m not jealous” Sirius snapped “Why would I be?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you are in love” she joked, without knowing the truth her own words held. She continued to pick on him, singing very off tune “Sirius and Y/n/n sitting on a tree, he wants to kiss her on the lips; but he’s ugly as a…”
“Flobber…wormy?” suggested Peter
“Brilliant!” she said, resuming her chant.
“We need flowers” Remus said suddenly “Your sister likes flowers”
“Oh, I knew you were the right choice” James said, looking like a proud father, whose son just cured cancer “Our Moony is so thoughtful”
Remus smiled and whispered something about the bare minimum before looking back at James. “What´s her favourite flower? I could transfigure these daisies”
“Wisterias” Sirius answered absentmindedly “She likes the colour. And how beautiful they look when they together, she says it reminds her of us. She also thinks they smell nice, and make her fancy eating a whole pint of honey”. He didn’t notice he was smiling.
“How do you know that?” Marlene asked.
“She’s mentioned it a few times”.
“Wow Pads, your memory is astounding” James said, completely missing the glances Remus and Marlene were shooting Sirius.
Remus flicked his wand, transforming the dull daisies into a gorgeous bouquet of wisterias. They just needed Y/N to get back from her detention. They passed the time gossiping, especially about the fact that Severus Snape had been asked to the Christmas Ball twice.
“I still can’t believe he turned them both down!” Peter said
“Who turned down who?” They turned around to see Y/N venturing into the common room. She was shivering, and her nose had been reddened by the cold.
“Snivellus turned down two invitations to the ball” James explained
“Why?” she asked “He is always grumpy and he’s also boring as shit. Is he expecting an invitation from the Queen or something?”
“He’s expecting an invitation from the Queen of my Heart” James replied “But she’s going with me, and she even said she wants us to match” He signed and looked up at the ceiling, wearing the lovesick grin that appeared on his face every time he thought of Lily Evans.
“Speaking of the ball” Remus stood up and picked up the bouquet of wisterias “Y/N Potter, would you like to accompany me to the ball?”
“Oh Moony, of course I will!” she replied, hugging him by the waist.
She looked at him with a smile so bright, it made Sirius’ heart clench. He wanted her to hug him, to smile at him. And guilt was eating him up. What would Mr. and Mrs. Potter think? Would James hate him? He felt like a traitor.
“I guess we all have dates then” Peter beamed “We’ll look so cute in pictures!”
“Except for Sirius” Marlene reminded “His whore duty cannot be canceled”.
She was waiting for him to insult her back, but she never met his usual bitchy remark. Sirius was lost in his own thoughts.
Deep down, he was glad Remus was the one taking Y/n/n. He knew Remus would never flirt with her. But still, he wished to be the one holding her hand all night long; only he was too afraid. He was afraid of the Potter’s reaction. He couldn’t lose his newfound family. And he couldn’t lose her.
But he shouldn’t have worried so much, because the very next day a letter arrived for Sirius. It was from Fleamont Potter. It was filled with usual concerned parent questions (was he getting enough sleep? Was James overworking him at Quidditch practice?), but also, a comment about the feelings Sirius thought he had hidden so well. Mr. Potter informed him that he had picked up on the loving stares he directed his daughter, and he encouraged him to ask her to the ball. He even gave him some advice to romance his daughter, expressing his and his wife’s desire to get to legally call him their son. Sirius wished he had received the letter a day earlier; it would have been much easier to face his fears (and James) with Fleamont and Euphemia’s support.
He smiled as an idea popped in his head. He may not be taking the girl of his dreams to the ball, but he would sure spend the whole night with her.
The date of the ball had arrived, there was chaos in every dorm, and the one Y/N shared with her friends was no exception. Mary was freaking out over her curls. Lily feared James would change his mind. Marlene was worrying her bold red suit would scare away Dorcas. Y/N was also losing her shit, but she was not showing it. Her appearance wasn’t a big deal to her, unlike her roommates; she didn’t fancy her date, and Remus had seen her throwing up in her pajamas. But she did fear her expressions would betray her when Sirius started flirting around. She had liked him for some time now, and thought she had been doing an excellent job hiding it. Nevertheless, Marlene had uncovered her secret a few days after Remus asked her to the ball. She told her she was completely certain Sirius’ undivided attention would be on her, but Y/N wasn’t so sure. She got a hold of her emotions and put on the huge white heels Marlene had lent her. They complimented her silvery light blue dress perfectly.
“Merlin, you look great!” Mary said, clapping her hands “Remus will have a heart attack”.
“He won’t be the only one” scoffed Marlene.
“What do you mean?”
Marlene seemed to panic for a second. “I meant James will freak out too. You know how he babies Y/n/n”.
The answer seemed to satisfy Mary, but Lily was not having it. She wasn’t the top of her class for nothing, and quickly joined the dots. Clearly Marlene was referring to Sirius.
“We should get going” she said, looking at Marlene in a way that let her know she wasn’t subtle.
“Yeah, the boys must be waiting” Y/N said “Let’s go future sister-in-law”.
Lily blushed and made a run to the door, the rest following her in laughter.
To say James was impressed when he saw Lily in her dress would be an understatement. The man almost fainted. It was a hilarious sight, but Sirius couldn’t get to make of him, because Y/N chose that moment to walk down the stairs. With one hand, she held up her flowy skirt; and with the other, she supported herself against the wall. Sirius wished he was a wall.
Remus met her at the bottom of the stairs, offering her his arm. She took it, giving him a gorgeous smile. He wanted that smile to be directed at him, and there was only one way to achieve it.
He knew Remus could not resist chamomile liquor. And he was well aware that for some reason, it could get him drunk faster than five whole bottles of firewhiskey. Therefore, he was not surprised to see Remus shaking his arse in the middle of the dancefloor after half a glass.
He spotted Y/N laughing along Remus’ fan club, most of its members drooling over the man. He gave Professor Flitwick a signal, and got to her before the slow waltz started to play. He held out his hand, and she took it. Gently, he placed his arms around her waist, holding her close. When Remus saw her safely in Sirius’ embrace, he flashed them a knowing smile and wiggled his eyebrows before making his way towards Professor Sprout and beg her for a dance.
Sirius felt Y/N’s arms around his neck, and quickly looked at her. She looked happy, and it made his heart beat a million times faster.
“You know” she said “I’m glad I’m dancing with you”
“I’m glad too” he said, caressing her waist with his thumb. “Actually, I’m more than glad. I’m ecstatic, I’ve been waiting all night to dance to dance with you”
“You should have been my date then” she replied, her tone letting him know she expected an explanation.
“I wanted to ask you. But I was afraid” he confessed “Your family took me in, and I just couldn’t bring myself to tell then ‘hey, I’m in love with your daughter’. I was afraid your parents would think I was a pig, and I was afraid James would think I betrayed him. But then your parents wrote me a letter letting me know they love the idea of us being in a relationship, and I guess that gave me the courage I needed to ask you to dance”.
“You love me?” she asked
“What?”
“You said you loved me?” she smirked.
“No, I didn’t” Sirius looked away, trying to hide the soft blush on his cheeks.
“That’s a shame then” she said “Because I do love you”.
He looked at her, and before she could tease him about his flushed cheeks he leaned down and kissed her.
They broke apart when a pair of strong arms hugged them by surprise.
“You guys are so beautiful” Remus said, almost tearing up “So, so beautiful”.
Remus Lupin came down the stairs, swallowing some hangover potion. He looked at his friends, and noticed something different. Sirius’ arm was over Y/N’s shoulder, and she was leaning against his chest.
“About time you two” he said grinning. “Finally, you got the girl Pads”
“Yeah” Sirius laughed “Unlike you”
“What do you mean?”
“Moony, you flirted with Professor Sprout all night” James said, barely holding in his laughs.
“And you also shook your arse for your whole fan club” Peter snickered.
“Well,” Remus said, sitting down” At least my arse is really nice”.
#sirius black#sirius x y/n#sirius black fanfiction#sirius black imagine#sirius orion black#jily#james potter#lily evans#remus lupin#peter pettigrew#marlene mckinnon#mary macdonald#the marauders era#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders#marauders era#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter imagine#sirius x you#sirius x reader#sirius black fluff#sirius x potter!reader
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hey, was wondering if you do this one FNV companion reaction where they find the courier to be pretty skilled at many things(lockpicking, sneaking, medicine, hacking, cooking, G U N S,etc.) and then later when asked, they casually say they learnt it all from old timey magazines??
The courier shrugged, when they caught their companion studying them after having popped open a wafer tumbler lock in under two minutes. "It's just practice, I guess," they mused, swinging the safe door open to inspect its contents. "Well, practice and a couple of readings-through of Tumblers Today. Volume 64, Issue 1."
They said something similar two days later, after throwing together a mad mix of Nuka-Cola Quartz, turpentine, and Abraxo and stuffing it into a tin can. "Got that recipe from the Patriot's Cookbook," they said proudly, taping the top back onto the can and poking some holes for wires to run into the dangerous slop. "Man, I really wish I hadn't had to take that unexpected dip in Lake Mead. That magazine was invaluable."
Their random assortment of skills was best on display later that day though, when they wandered into a building patrolled by hostile robots. All it took was a little bit of patience, and eventually the courier was able to sneak up to the nearest Colonel Gutsy, pop open its combat inhibitor panel and move a few things around to shut it down. Once the bot crumpled to the floor, the courier turned to their companion and winked. "Programmer's Digest, a little bit of the Tesla Science magazine, plus a healthy dash of La Fantoma," they said. "Always was a comic book fan."
Arcade Gannon: "Where do you keep turning them up?" Arcade asked, clearly impressed. "I've spent years out here with the Followers, and I haven't seen more than a handful."
"Well, maybe you just needed to step outside the Old Mormon Fort." The courier shrugged. "They're tucked all over the place. File cabinets in old offices, desk drawers in hotels, on the floor behind couches and mattresses and piles of-"
"Okay, okay, I get the idea." Arcade grinned. "Basically, you find them because you're willing to crawl around the dustiest, sandiest places on earth in search of them."
"Hey, that sand is their saving grace," the courier said, straightening up from the bot they'd felled. "It's dry enough out here that magazines don't suffer as much. Sure, you might find the cover ink's worn off by some grit, but you go north? East? A little bit of humidity and bam, your pages are all stuck together. Eugh."
Craig Boone: Boone pressed his lips together. The courier recognized the sniper's silent disapproval and raised their eyebrows. "Something to say?"
"Can't learn sniping from a magazine," he said, being careful about his words. "But it means you don't need to sneak up on a target to take them out."
"Sure," the courier agreed. "But if I can just hack a bot rather than waste ammo, I'd rather that. Don't you think?"
"We've got plenty of ammo."
"Yeah, Boone, I know." The courier sighed. "But sometimes I didn't. Don't knock the magazines, they've kept me alive this long."
Boone nodded. He could appreciate that, at least.
Lily Bowen: "Oh yes, dearie," Lily agreed, nodding enthusiastically. "There are so many good things young ones can learn from books these days. Why, Grandma used to be quite the reader, back when she had fewer grandchildren to take care of."
"Aw, Lily." The courier gave her a sad pout. "You mean you stopped?"
"Don't you worry about Grandma," Lily assured them. "She's got plenty to take care of, traveling with you and the rest of her flock."
"The bighorners?" The courier pulled a face. "They're not much for reading, I guess. But I've got quite the collection back at the Lucky 38, from my travels around the Mojave. Maybe I can lend you something? Or at least read you a few things when we're taking a night off?"
Lily grinned. "Oh, pumpkin. Grandma would love that."
Raul Alfonso Tejada: "La Fantoma?" Raul grinned. "I used to read that one all the time when I was putting off chores on the ranch."
"Híjole." The courier shook their head. "I love that woman. What I wouldn't give to see her cross over into the Hubris Comics universe. La Fantoma versus the Silver Shroud? Or the Inspector?"
"Why not la Dueña de los Misterios?" Raul asked. "Now that would be a squaring-off I'd pay my last cap to see."
"The Mistress? Please." The courier gave him a skeptical look. "They have too much in common. They'd probably just team up to take down Pyramind or something."
Raul waved his hand. "La Fantoma would never get mixed up with the likes of Pyramind. That was her whole draw, that she was down-to-earth. Una ladrona en la noche, sure, but still a woman."
Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Cass spat onto the Colonel Gutsy's shiny dome. "Programmer's Digest, one, pre-war bots, zero. It's almost a shame, I never get to use my shotgun when we're traveling."
"What are you talking about?" the courier replied playfully, straightening up from their handiwork. "We run into Vipers and Fiends often enough, don't we?"
"Sure, but they're more work than play." Cass smiled. "When you're putting lead into a robot, they make the best noises. Thunks, beeps, and if it's a Mister Handy, they're polite as all hell about the fact that you're shooting them up."
The courier wiped some grease from their hands. "I'll remember that for the next one. Far be it from me to keep you from turning these guys into shrapnel, I suppose, even if I like to keep things clean."
Veronica Santangelo: Veronica pulled a face, then laughed. "What didn't you learn from magazines, Six? Because I'm starting to think you were raised by a copy of Dean's Electronics."
The courier made a face back at her. "Well, I didn't learn manners from them, but that doesn't make much of a difference in the Mojave. No one out here seems to have learned them, either."
"Pffft." Veronica rolled her eyes. "Manners are for the White Glove Society. Hacking a robot is a bit more useful to us common folk."
"Exactly." The courier slapped their knees and straightened up. "Plus we can salvage this guy, now that he's no longer defending God and country. Did you still need parts for your power fist?"
"Oh, yeah, good thinking. That one piston's been sticking something fierce."
ED-E: ED-E beeped in agreement, as it did every time the courier felt the need to re-announce their reliance on pre-war periodicals, and opened up its storage compartment to reveal the stack of magazines within.
The courier chuckled. "Okay, okay, I can take a hint. I'm just pleased with myself, that's all."
ED-E trilled in agreement. It was only an eyebot, but it still felt something akin to pride for its companion.
Rex: Rex sniffed the now-defunct robot over, lip still curled in case it stirred and resumed its patrol.
The courier gave his brain dome a reassuring pat. "I know what I'm doing, buddy. Or at the very least, Tesla Science's star contributor Karl Oslow does."
#fallout#fallout new vegas#fnv#fnv companions#fnv companions react#fallout new vegas companions react#fallout new vegas companions#fallout magazines
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Miss you and your marvelous writing!!!! Just a prompt if you’re up to it 😊 exes wolfstar staying friends but sirius gets into a new relationship and he brings his new boo to somewhere he took remus and remus gets sad 😭 but they get back together eventually
Notes: OMFG BABEY! this is so SO beyond precious of you! i adore you to bits! thank you for the sweetness and for this scrumptious angst🥺🥺 i really hope you like it😭😘😘💜
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SEND ME A PROMPT | A Reblog means SO SO much! I ADORE YOU💜💜
.-
“He can just be so… So” James pauses right then, takes off his cap with the hand that’s still clutching his baseball bat, and ruffles his hair with the other.
“Un-opinionated,” Remus offers half heartedly as they turn the block to the small coffee shop nearest school, both of them freshly showered after the required morning workouts for Tuesday and Thursdays. It’s the first semester in which Remus has actually joined in on the seven minute track, considering the fact that even despite their crazy contradictory schedules with all the sports and extra curriculars they each had, Sirius always made it a point to buy their ice coffees and drop it off to Remus, sometimes leaving them a quarter of an hour late for first period, or as just a quick drop and dash if one of them had an exam.
It was sweet, considerate. It was Sirius showing how much he cared because he’s never been one for words, even if he would frequently print off the little texts Remus would send him about how Sirius made him feel, and hang it up on the wall besides his bed, along with photos of them and Remus by himself and a few of their other friends too.
But yeah… None of that is really a thing anymore, not the coffees or the texts or the promises of being one another’s always. Not after calling it quits in early January because they knew by August they’d be working with thousands of miles between them and a three hour difference on top of that. It just wouldn’t have been feasible in the long run, and sure— Remus was the one to broach the topic and he knows that Sirius was hesitant about the logical side of it, but sometimes Remus wishes Sirius had fought harder, had argued louder, had wanted Remus more. But that’s a ridiculous expectation, and he had only admitted as much to Lily. And at the end of the day, it was the right choice, because it’s only early May now, and Remus can’t imagine how sick he’ll feel once catching his flight to Berkeley, and they’re steadfastly back in the best friends category of things. He can’t fathom how it would’ve been if they spent all these months and the ones after being together in all those intimate ways, knowing that they’ll be so far apart soon enough.
It was the right decision for the both of them and their friendship.
“Yeah, sure. Let’s go with that,” James says, bringing Remus out of his gloomy contemplations while opening the glass door to Three Broomsticks, sporting a thin smile that he always has on when he’s trying to be kind even when he’s irritated as all get out.
Remus snorts at him, elbow checking his side as he walks past. “Well he’s sharing that dorm with you and Sirius in New Haven, so I guess you’ve got that to look forwards to.”
James’s face pulls into a grimace and their typical barista nods their way, already receiving their orders through the app and sparing them having to wait in the queue. “Maybe Pete’ll grow his own personality in university, yeah?”
“Sure Prongsie,” Remus says, noncommittal as he checks his phone and lies against the windowpane, already exhausted by the morning. “And if he doesn’t, I’m sure Sirius is about to blow his lid any day now.”
“It’s going to be funny as fuck, and you won’t even be there to see the debris,” James counters, sounding pleasant enough even though Remus knows that he’s nearly as pissed off as Sirius is about the decision for him to go back to his home state for undergrad.
“You’ll send pictures though.”
“Of course Moony my old friend,” James jokes, tossing him a wink as they straighten once spotting their coffees being rung up. But as Remus takes a step forwards, he notices that a familiarly tan pair of hands are reaching for them, and when Remus looks up he feels like an idiot for not noticing him sooner. Because there Sirius is, dashing as ever in their school’s maroon blazer and tan pants, and his hair is windblown and shining as it falls midway of the nape of his neck. But Remus doesn’t really have the chance to appreciate just how damn good looking his ex-boyfriend is, rather, he’s more distracted by how Sirius doesn’t even notice him or James as he pivots around and hands over the second cup to a beaming Gideon Prewett. Their heads incline while they exchange a few words that are absolutely impossible to pick up in the crowded cafe before they bump their shoulders together and walk out the opposite door.
And it feels like nothing else watching that exchange— like their was a hammer and pick chipping away at his stupid, weeping heart.
“I think they’re just doing a project together,” James says lowly in Remus’s ear, clapping him on the back in reassurance, and Remus loves him, but he’s not in the mood for false platitudes, feels like there is a ugly, burning fire festering deep in his stomach and making Remus want to hurl all over the wooden floors.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” he replies instead, mild as he discretely picks up his phone again and opens up to the last conversation he had this morning.
R: need intel
L: Say more sexy things to me, lover
R: sirius and Gideon
R: what’s going on there
L: I’ll take a look, dw
Buoyed by Lily’s scary levels of detective skills, Remus returns his phone to his satchel and signals James to follow him to pick up their actual drinks. “C’mon, Flitwick hates it when we’re late.”
.-
“Do you want the good news first, or the bad.” Lily asks Remus later that morning during their shared free period, dropping her bag on the tabletop that they typically commandeer towards the back of Hogwarts’s library, nearest the windows and tucked away by the shelves.
“Is there actually any good news? Or are you just saying that to make me feel better.” Remus asks, single brow cocked as he shuts his history book and tosses it to the side.
“Well your hair looks especially nice today,” she offers with a small smile, sitting besides him and ruffling his curls.
“Thanks, I suppose. But I’d rather just get to it. And don’t sigh at me like that! All long suffering and all.”
Rolling her eyes, Lily gathers her hair into a high pony before turning to Remus fully. “You’re my best friend, I love you more than just about anyone. You know that, right?” Lily asks him, stiff stance relaxing when he nods in turn. “Then understand that I’m saying this from a place of love, but you don’t get to be mad at him, okay. You’re the one who called it off Re, you’re the one who wanted you guys to go back to being friends to avoid that messiness in August. And you know I respect the decision, but also it wasn’t the only one to be had. I mean look at James and I—“
“You’re going to Columbia Lils,” Remus bristles, hates how defensive he’s getting all of a sudden. “That train ride is like two hours and some change at the very most. It’s not the same.”
“You guys could’ve made it work,” she insists, green eyes blazing in the dim light. “He’s crazy about you, and you’re in love with him— Like ass backwards in love. You can’t just cut that off like it’s nothing, damn it, Remus.”
He can feel his own ears reddening and Remus hates it, hates how today had started off so innocuous and now it’s an absolute shit show. Remus hates that Lily is always correct about everything, and hates how Sirius probably is regretting telling Remus he still fully intends to ask him out to prom, and hates how much he loves him— how whenever he looks at Sirius it’s just a deluge of wanting and adoring and regretting and needing to feel his lips against Sirius’s own again like a drug, how he’ll never forget how he tasted like coffee beans and cigarette smoke and the strawberries he ate every morning besides his breakfast. Remus hates it all and he can’t figure out how not to feel like suddenly everything is slipping out of his hands like sand drifting through his fingers.
“He’s probably not that crazy over me anymore considering he’s getting Gideon Prewett coffees now, so maybe it’s the right decision after all.” Is what Remus decides to tell Lily instead of that whirlwind of clashing feelings.
“Oh Christ,” Lily huffs, dropping her head back like she’s asking for strength from the heavens above. “Look, Dorcas tells me that they’ve only been out twice. And Marlene says that it’s nothing intense. Just a movie and then he went to go watch his nephew’s little league game.”
“Oh,” Remus intones, because, no. No he will not start crying like this is some fucking Nicholas Sparks novel, and he’s the wayward lead making all the worst decisions. He’s not going to cry damn it!
He is not a bird, and this is suppose to be happening, and none of this has any real consequence at the end of the day. He and Sirius broke up, and Sirius can go out with whoever he pleases— even if it’s good looking, ginger athletes.
Remus is fine.
“Remus,” Lily gently consoles, lacing her fingers into his own that’s resting on his lap, and squeezing for good measure. “Benjy told Mary, who told me during Calc that Gideon doesn’t expect anything. Sirius told him he’s not looking for anything long term.”
“That’s dumb,” Remus retorts, trying to hold everything in so that Lily doesn’t give him that concerned, doe eyed face of hers, like when he’s spent a week living off of protein bars and double shot espressos preparing for finals. “Gideon’s great, and there on the soccer team together, they would be perfect.”
“Remus, stop.”
“And he’s going to Dartmouth, so he’ll be super close for like weekend excursions and all of that.”
“Remus!”
“The more I think about it, Lils, the more it makes sense. They just fit.”
“Sure, those are all nice attributes,” Lily says, peering up at him disappointedly. “But he’s not you.”
Like a legion of angels singing in the distance, the bell begins to shrill for next period and Remus is spared from giving that statement any mind.
.-
He spends the rest of the week acting as if he hadn’t even seen Sirius that morning whenever around him, and internally analyzing each and every exchange between them, and comparing to them to when he sees Sirius chatting with Gideon. And it’s not fun to say the least. It’s like a flashback to when he was trying to hide his crush on Sirius back in Freshman and most of sophomore year, but somehow worse. It’s worse because Remus had him, had Sirius in all the ways someone could ever want an other. He had Sirius’s languid morning kisses, and Sirius’s bark like laughter. Remus had Sirius being nervous the first time Lyall came for his typical Christmas visit, and Sirius had to try and impress him along with Remus’s mom as more than just the friend he hung around with at school. Remus had Sirius’s gruff voice when they were in bed and getting tangled into one another, and Sirius’s dopey looks in the middle of class when he’d be gazing over at Remus instead of the board. And if Remus is being honest, he knows he still has all those things, but it’s suddenly and searingly clear that some time— sooner rather than later— they’ll all leave, abruptly disappearing and shattering Remus’s world in their wake. Because eventually all of those different facets of Sirius’s won’t be Remus’s anymore— they’ll be Gideon’s or some other boy he meets in New Haven. And Remus can’t even be upset at it, he doesn’t have a claim to any of Sirius anymore, doesn’t get to call any part of him his.
And it’s probably the worst Remus has felt since that first night after their break up, because he’s eating every moment he has with Sirius like he’s famished and Sirius is the last meal he’ll ever know. He wants to memorize every part of him before he can’t have any of it. He wants to unravel every layer of Sirius, and kiss it for the final time, and it’s like saying goodbye a thousand times over, strangling his heart and splintering something desperate deep inside of him.
Like now.
It’s edging on midnight, and they drove up to the lake front near their suburb, with Sirius lying with his head on Remus’s lap and his long, muscled body lying against the tattered blanket beneath them. And his eyes are fluttered shut while the speaker they brought croons out the indie playlist they like most from Spotify.
And Remus can’t help but feel like this is one of their last nights like this, alone and quiet and together without any other specter of some other partner. So he watches him, watches the moonlight pacing over his nose and the high bones of his cheeks and across Sirius’s eyelids too. Remus watches his ink like lashes kissing his skin, and wants to touch the divot of his cupids bow like so many times before while his other hand cards through Sirius’s hair.
And Remus lets himself want Sirius and wonders if he’ll ever stop wanting, craving, loving him.
“I can hear you thinking Moons,” Sirius says, fluttering his eyes open and crunching up before Remus can even respond. “What’s going on?”
“Huh? What do you mean? I’m fine.” Remus all but sputters, folding his knees against his chest and wrapping his arms around them, feeling somehow vulnerable in blistering ways. “Nothing is going on.”
“Pff,” Sirius gives him a pointed look, settles down so that they’re side by side and tries to get Remus to look at him head on. “You’ve been strange all week, Moony.”
“That’s not—“
“And then tonight, you didn’t even tease your ma when she was telling us about that patient who puked all over her shoes.”
“Just tired is all.”
“But had enough energy to smoke half the joint I brought.” Sirius says with a snort, looking frustrated again when Remus didn’t even flinch a smile at the counter. “Remus, talk to me.”
“It’s fine Sirius,” Remus sighs, suddenly remembers how exhausting all their arguments were in the past. How Sirius tries getting him to speak everything in his mind, as if Remus could even put them into words.
“Okay, then tell me why you rejected my offer to go to that Frank Ocean concert. You’re obsessed with him.”
“’S in July,” Remus reminds him lightly, focusses on the way they can see the North star glimmering against the horizon instead.
“And, so?” Sirius asks, sounding more than a bit scathing. “You’re not leaving for another month after that, you trying to cut me off completely by the summer or something?”
“Don’t be an idiot.”
“Don’t be condescending.”
“Sirius, just leave well enough alone. Holy shit.”
“I can leave it alone if you can actually tell me what the fuck is going on with you,” Sirius snaps, standing up now, probably because he always likes using his height advantage on most people whenever he gets all pissy.
“You can be such a prick sometimes, you know that?” Remus snarls at him, following suit and dipping his head back just slightly so that they’re eye to eye. “Not everything is on your schedule, you know that.”
“My schedule!” Sirius’s brows jump to his hairline, and he breaks into that manic laughter that springs up only when he’s so angry he can’t put his thoughts together. “I’m trying to do as much shit with you as possible before you leave, because for some stupid fucking reason I’m going to miss you when your across the fucking country! But yeah, whatever. If you’re actually just sick of me and my presence or what the fuck else, you can just—“
“I would’ve assumed you wanted to go with Gideon,” Remus blurts out, simply unable to hold it back any more, unable to pretend like he’s not suffering a thousand fresh paper cuts every time he even glances Sirius’s way these days. He can’t do this, can’t pretend to just be friends when they were— when they are— so much more than that. “To the concert I mean. I just assumed—“
“No,” Sirius says, seething as he storms up to Remus— close enough that the tips of their noses brush up against each other.
“No? Excuse me?”
“No Remus you don’t get to do this!” Sirius repeats, voice going frayed at the edges as their glances level. “You don’t get to pretend as if I want anyone more than I want— than I’ve always wanted you. And you don’t get to float around for the rest of your life pretending as if this’ll ever change for me. As if you can’t hit me up in fifteen years when I’m married with kids, and ask to get back together, and think that I wouldn’t drop it all for you.”
Remus’s heart begins to thud, loud and painful against his ribcage, and his lungs feel like they might collapse the instant Remus let’s the tears swimming in his eyes sprinkle out. “Sirius, I ca—“
“I’ve been in love with you since before we were suppose to mean what that meant, damn it, Remus! And you’re the one who called it off!”
“It was the right decision.” Remus croaks out, plunging his hands into his hoodie’s pockets, doesn’t want Sirius to see the way they’re shaking.
“”For you. The right decision for you.” Sirius presses, his gray eyes dark underneath the stars. “And you know I’d do anything you wanted of me, but you don’t get to be mad at the ways I cope. And you sure as fuck don’t get to be jealous of fucking Gideon Prewett, as if he can hold a match to you.”
“Oh.” Is all Remus can gather to say, peering back down at his shoes and pressing together his lips, feels the most lost he ever has while around Sirius. “I love you too, you know that. You know I love you so much that it hurts sometimes— That was never the problem.”
Sirius makes a strangled sound deep in his throat, and the next second, Remus can’t feel the warmth of his body besides him because Sirius is darting over to the cusp of the lake and kicking at a rock. “Fuck, Remus. You can’t just say that, all right! You can’t because none of this is fair, or okay. And I fucking hate it and I hate this and—“
“Maybe we can try,” Remus says, quiet but unshaken. And he watches as Sirius slowly turns back around, face scrunched up in utter confusion, but eyes glittering with something like hope. “I love you Sirius, and you love me. And Lily’s right, fucking hell she’s so right. I can’t just turn it off, okay. I’ve tried and I’ve tried, but I can’t. I can’t be around you and not want every part of you. But I also can’t let myself stay away from you. So let’s try, and it’s probably a stupid difficult decision, and we’re going to be frustrated and we’re going to miss one another but I know there’s going to be no one I want more and I think you migh— Oof.”
Remus can’t continue rattling off any of the reasons why they should get back together, because Sirius is somehow magically popping up in front of him— his large hands cupping against Remus’s jawline and his thin lips crashing against him, and Remus can only wrap his arms around Sirius’s torso and give him back all he’s pushing forwards.
And it might’ve been a minute or an hour that past, but Sirius is pulling back with a face that looks lighter in ways Remus hasn’t seen on him since the breakup all those months ago. “I’d literally agree to anything if it means we can stay together, Moony. Absolutely anything.”
Remus feels the strain against the apples of his cheeks as he beams at him at the sound of the oath. “Yeah, me too Padfoot. Always and forever, it’s you.”
.-
My Other Wolfstar FIC💜
#WOLFSTAR#REMUS LUPIN#SIRIUS BLACK#SIRIUSXREMUS#REMUSXSIRIUS#WOLFSTAR ANGST#WOLFSTAR FLUFF#THE HARRY POTTER SERIES#HARRY POTTER SERIES#MARAUDERS#SPILT INK#I AM A MESS#I HATE ME LMFAO
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Game On • J.P
(Gif not mine)
Writing Challenge: @lunalovecroft ‘s 2.7k Trope Writing Challenge! Congrats again! Everyone go check out their fantastic blog! Trope: Quidditch Rivals and Secret Dating
Summary: No one knows that rival captains, Potter and (Y/Ln), have been in a secret relationship for quite some time. Then, the Championship Game arrives.
Warnings: cursing, a small hint of steaminess (nothing big—it’s like a quick mention and that’s it), slight Wolfstar and Dorlene mention, mention of breakfast at the Great Hall, kissing, use of Ms when referring to the reader (only once), nonGryffindor!reader
Word Count: 2k
A.N: Kinda long winded but I actually like the dialogue for once??? Wow. Congrats again on 2.7k! Everyone go follow them because I get so happy seeing them on my dash ❤️ Hope you all enjoy and love you all ❤️
****
Your eyes snap open hours before they have to, your dorm still pitch black, the soft snores of your friends filling up the otherwise quiet space. The covers feel heavy and restricting on top of you, something you quickly remedy by kicking them clear off the mattress.
You swing your legs over the edge, feet meeting the cool wooden floor.
Rubbing your eyes, you glance over at the ornate clock on your nightstand. One in the morning. You sigh, your goal of getting a good night’s sleep before your important match in ruins.
Your skin crawls at the thought of the Championship Match only hours from now. The amount of blood, sweat, and tears you’ve shed in preparation for it is frankly quite concerning.
Unable to get back to sleep, you drag yourself out of bed, shoving your feet into plush slippers before slipping quietly out of your room. You’re forced to tiptoe around scattered books, most of them Quidditch related from last night.
There’s no way you’ll be getting back to sleep anytime soon, the anxiety of the morning’s match coursing through your veins. The nerves were the worst part of competitive Quidditch—after all these years you still couldn’t shake them.
Absentmindedly, you think about heading to the Kitchens, the warm and comfortable environment sounding like exactly what you need.
Late night visits to the Kitchens aren’t anything new, you and James often sneak out after curfew hidden underneath his Invisibility Cloak. Sitting in the far corner behind countless shelves and barrels was a frequent date for the two of you since it offered enough privacy from the rest of the castle.
The two of you could hold hands on the table, his thumb open to draw little figure eights between your knuckles. Your eyes could light up just looking at him without the fear of being called out. His lips could capture yours in a sweet or passionate kiss and no one would know.
The real and complete reason for keeping your relationship a secret was long since forgotten, but the general idea is still shared. It’s just easier being Quidditch rivals instead of being Quidditch rivals that snogged the second feet touched the ground. Neither of you were ever accused of going easy on the other during matches, and that’s how the two of you preferred it.
Plus, there was something romantic about sneaking around the castle and through secret passage ways pressed closely underneath his cloak. Stolen kisses in empty classrooms and quick shags in broom closets were fun when they weren’t inconvenient.
In the back of your mind you have an inkling that James might be huddled up in the usual spot as well, considering he has a match as well in a few hours.
You shuffle through the common room, a few third years spread out on the couch, sleeping atop their textbooks and notes. The fire crackles and pops lowly. A shiver runs down your spine as you step out into the corridor.
“Lumos!”
A murky blue light blooms from the tip of your wand, lighting up the dark corridor.
You shuffle across the stone, the occasional laugh or snore echoing throughout.
Filch isn’t an issue at this time of night, surprisingly the old care taker does get some sort of beauty sleep, though it does him no good, so you find yourself walking normally instead of carefully creeping around.
It doesn’t take long to get to the portrait of the bowl of fruit, faint giggles coming from the pear. You extend your arm to tickle the bottom of the pear, it’s giggles erupting even louder before morphing into an intricate brass doorknob.
Stepping through the threshold you’re immediately met with a blast of heat due to the large fireplace that practically takes up the wall to your right. Even though it’s the middle of the night, plates and goblets and utensils are clanking and crashing together, the pitter patter of house-elves darting around the area isn’t surprising at this point.
“Nox.”
The blue light fades and flickering orange takes over.
A small and pale grey figure rushes up to you, jittery like they’ve just consumed a gallon of coffee. One ear droops low enough where it’s almost dragging across the floor while the other is significantly shorter.
“Ms. (Y/Ln)!” The house-elf squeaks, wringing their lavender cloth between their fingers. “Mr. Potter is waiting for you!”
“Alright, Tilly.” You smile warmly at the elf. “Thank you.”
As you make your way to your usual spot in the back of the Kitchens, you hear Tilly bound back over to the counters, joining the many other house-elves that work down here.
Behind stacks of old crates and barrels, there’s an old and decrepit picnic table, obscured from the rest of the room. Each time you and James show up you’re surprised the house-elves haven’t chucked it into the large fire yet. It’s so rickety it’s practically only good for firewood.
And being the spot for the two of you to find refuge in.
James is sitting with his back against the wall, legs outstretched across the bench just like you suspected. He’s lazily tracing a finger around the lip of his steaming mug, hazel eyes lost in thought. From your spot you can see his teeth toying with his bottom lip.
“You ok Jamie?” You ask softly, trying not to startle him out of his thoughts.
His eyes flick up to yours before he fixes his glasses and runs a hand through his bedhead.
“Knew you’d join me eventually, love.” He sends over a wink, face lighting up.
“And you didn’t think to pick me up at my common room?” You playfully scoff, slotting yourself between his legs, face pressed into his chest.
The red fabric smells suspiciously like the Quidditch shed, like he got in some late night practice.
“Oh yes, because standing out in the cold corridors outside of your common room after curfew is much better than just waiting for you in the warm Kitchens.” James’ chin rests in the top of your head, his arms wrapped securely around your waist.
“Blimey, chivalry really is dead.”
“Y’know, you could’ve waited outside the Gryffindor Tower for me.” James points out, chuckling at your complaint.
“I’m sorry.” You gasp. “Who has the Invisibility Cloak, again?”
“You got here just fine, didn’t you, love?” He snorts, chest rumbling.
“Whatever.” You grumble, rolling your eyes in defeat.
James sighs, rubbing your side. “You ready for the morning?”
You hum noncommittally, the thought of tomorrow’s match swirling through your mind.
“Nervous, love?” His voice is soft and delicate against your temple.
“I mean, this is my last chance, Jamie.” You mumble into his chest. “And of course it’s against you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, (Y/n)?” James asks, concern laced within his voice.
“It’s just that you’re an amazing player and I’m—“
“A spectacular player as well.” He interjects. “I’ve seen you out there practicing. You’ve built a bloody good team this year. We’re on equal footing.”
“Yeah well, I’ve never beaten you before.” You huff lightly, playing with the hem of his shirt.
“So?” He questions. “That doesn’t mean anything. There’s a reason you’ve made it into the Championship match, (Y/n). Because you’re a fucking phenomenal Captain. And I’ll hex anyone that tells you otherwise.” You feel his fingers flex angrily against your waist.
“You’re so sweet.” You pick your head up slightly to face him, a pout tugging at your lips.
“Guess I should give you a good luck kiss now, considering we won’t have time in the morning.” James’ hazel eyes shine in the flickering light while looking into your own.
“Does luck even last that long?” You bring your fingers up to hover over his sharp jawline.
“Sadly, love, we’ll have to test that.” He sighs.
You bring your lips to meet his, your fatigue making it a bit sloppier than it should’ve been. He nips at your lips, pulling you closer to his chest momentarily before pulling away.
You whine slightly at the loss of warmth.
“Gotta save some of that luck for myself, love. Can’t just let you win.” He smirks, lips grazing your hairline.
The two of you end up sitting there for another hour or so, listening to the fire crackling and the house-elves rummage around. Eventually, he pulls you underneath his cloak and drops you back off at your common room, a quick peck pressed to your lips.
You manage to drift back off to sleep, dreaming of James rather than Quidditch.
When you pry your eyes open for the second time, the sun is actually filtering through your curtains and most of your dormmates are awake and shuffling around.
You tune them out the best you can, opting to go through your routine in whatever silence you can find.
Your routine is quite simple, you let your joints pop and muscles stretch, trying to shake yourself awake.
The rest of the castle seems to be alive with boisterous laughter and over the top festivities. Glancing around at the corridors and the Great Hall, you’re able to notice a pretty even split between red and gold and your own house colors.
This was going to be one hell of a rematch.
Marlene and Sirius have a crowd forming around them as they flex and throw out trash talk. You watch as Remus and Dorcas try to coax them down from the tabletop, but they seem unsuccessful.
Peter, Mary, and Lily are fawning over James, hyping him up, even you can tell from across the Hall.
But he isn’t paying attention to them, his eyes are clearly trained on you behind his round glasses.
“Already envisioning Potter’s demise?”
You tear your eyes away from him, instead focusing on your teammate.
“Oh absolutely.” You smirk, before throwing yourself into last minute charts and maneuvers.
Breakfast goes by quick, your leg never stops bouncing underneath the table and your fingers tap incessantly against your goblet.
You and your team strut down to the pitch earlier than anyone else. There’s a slight breeze rolling through the grounds, something you take into account.
It becomes a bit of a blur after you’ve changed into your uniform, the crowd begins to show up and their cheers take over your hearing.
Remus is announcing the game, which you have no idea why since it never goes well for anyone. His commentary ranges from picking on James to flirting with Sirius to just trying to get McGonagall pissed off.
Marching out to the center of the grassy pitch, broom in hand, you’re bombarded with your name being enthusiastically chanted across the entire stadium. Confidence bubbles inside of you as you face James, Madam Hooch just beside you.
“Alright everyone, I expect a nice, clean, and fair game today. This is the Championship, no one will get away with any funny business.” Her tone is clipped as her yellow eyes take in everyone. “Captains, shake hands.”
You and James take a step forward, his hand firmly grasping yours.
“Good luck, love.”
With your hands still connected, James plants his lips on your own, and you eagerly kiss back.
The crowd erupts into even louder cheers.
“Bloody hell!” You hear Remus exclaim over the loud speaker. “James and (Y/Ln) are now snogging on the pitch! You own me five bloody Galleons, Sirius Black! I told you, you—“
“Lupin!”
James takes a step back, his usual smirk painted across his face. His hazel eyes glint mischievously behind his goggles, which he takes the time to adjust like they were his own glasses.
The roar of the entire castle fills your ears after your little reveal.
It’s a little overwhelming, you have to admit, but it doesn’t deter you. You’ve spent too many hours training for this very moment to back down now.
You roll your neck, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves, but pixies have already erupted in your stomach. You feel James’ stare burning into you.
“Mount your brooms.” Madam Hooch’s harsh tone cuts through the crowd, but you’re barely paying attention to her as you swing a leg over your broom handle.
The whistle pops into her mouth like usual, but in the split second before she blows with all the air in her lungs, you lock eyes with your boyfriend.
His red and gold robes billow behind him, confidence just rolling off of him. Dark and chaotic curls drift in the breeze.
He sends you a wink.
“Game on, love.”
•
All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20 @amourtentiaa @cherie-draco
For @lunalovecroft go check their blog out!
#lovecroftstropechallenge#James Potter#james potter x reader#james potter fanfiction#james potter imagine#james potter fluff#the marauders x reader
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JilyFic - 12
Guess the author in this form!
Prompt: “You hit my car with your car at a stop sign on accident, because you saw a cat you needed to rescue”
Pickles.
Her body slams forward. The dash lights up, her hands fly to the wheel, bracing herself. There’s a slight ringing in ears, her shoulder stings where the seat belt digs into her skin, and she has to blink a few times to regain her focus. Other than that, she feels okay. Her car on the other hand, probably not.
She groans, turning her wrist over, the silver watch sliding as she catches the time. She curses the emergency call that had made her rush out, cursing being on call, cursing not getting enough sleep the night before.
Begrudgingly, annoyance already bubbling under skin, she pushes the door open, poking her head out first to try and catch the dim-witted prick that just ran up the arse of her car. She groans, inhaling deeply, as her eyes run over the sleek lines of some sports car. Low to the ground, impeccably clean, all black with the exception of the red rims attached to the ties.
Great, she thinks, a rich, dim-witted prick.
She straightens her scrub top as she gets out of her car. Reaching for her phone in the middle console, she quickly flicks to her notes app where she keeps the important details her dad always told her she had to remember; like car insurance details, for example.
“Lily? Lily Evans, no way that’s you.”
Her stomach drops, the oh-so-familiar voice washing over her. She takes a gulp of air before looking up. That voice, his voice, has been haunting her for the last six months. Fuck. She drinks him, borderline hungrily, and she can’t help notice the way he’s filled out his frame. Standing in front of her, blankets bundled in his arms, was her right place wrong time, her one that got away, the… well, her big love, if her friends were to be believed.
“James?” It’s a question, but there isn’t a doubt in her mind that it’s him.
“All these cars and I run into yours.”
His smile still hits her right in her chest, hard and fast, winding her. The annoyance still bubbles, but it’s shifted. She’s thinking about her face— what a day to not wear make-up— and her hair— tied into possibly the messiest bun, on top of her head, in a rush to get to work on time— and her clothes— when was the last time she washed these scrubs? No, they’re fresh… she hopes. God, why didn’t she make more of an effort. He looks… he looks like he’s made an effort, at least.
No longer sporting the plain white t-shirt that he’d lived in that summer, or the cut up shorts that she’d his teased him about endlessly, James’ light blue button down is tucked into his tan-coloured dress pants, the brown dress shoes (replacing the converse trainers he’d worn to death, just to buy a new pair of the same trainers) shinier than her car, and his hair is some-what tamed (something she finds she hates immediately). She’s never seen him in his ‘work’ clothes before.
Christ, he looks good.
She realises, as she drags her eyes back to his face, that he’s speaking. “… so you see, I was just looking at the map, because I’ve never been to this vet— any vet, actually— and this was the closest one to the house, and I mean I couldn’t just leave Pickles to suffer on the street, you know.”
She laughs, completely lost, “Sorry? Who is Pickles?”
“Pickles… the old cat that hangs about… got hit by a car this morning? Evans, are you not listening to me at all?” She notices that his smirk sits the same across his face, even if his jaw chin is shadowed by facial hair nowadays.
“No, of course—”
“You look good too, by the way.” She feels the heat rush to her face, flaring up the back of her neck. “Hey, do you know where this vet is? My map said it was literally right around the corner?”
“Not Paws Clinic?” She shifts on her feet.
“Yes! That’s it. Google said it was the closest Vet to me…” He trails off, following her movement as she pulls out her ID tag, which was attached to a bright orange lanyard with the words Paws Clinic written in bold print, “Unbelievable.”
She can’t believe it either. For a moment, they just stare at each other, small smiles etching across their features.
“Fuck.” James breaks first, turning to the cars, “Shit, Lily, I’m so sorry, your car!”
“Oh,” Right, she thinks, of course, the cars… the cars that had promptly slipped her mind the moment she’d heard his voice.
The last time she’d seen him, he’d been dead asleep, face pressed into a pillow, arms outstretched across the sheets. She’d dressed as quietly as she could, having just slipped from those very same sheets, and had given him one last, longing look before leaving. Within hours, she’d been on the train to Scotland, back to university and her life, and desperately trying to get him out of her head.
She thought about their summer together— memories of his face, his hands, the way his lips felt on her skin, hot and everywhere— so often, the sunlit days and warm summer nights replayed in her mind with perfect recollection. Lily had returned to London for the summer at the request of Mary, her best friend since school who had decided Oxford was more her style then following Lily to Edinburgh for university, and she’d promptly been introduced to Mary’s charming, hilarious, frankly downright god-like housemate, James Potter.
It took approximately four days of light banter (read as: heavy flirting) for them to fall into bed together. Her summer with Mary turned into her summer with James. As they always do, the summer came to an end and she’d left all the same. Frankly, it had fucking terrified her how quickly she fell in love with James, and while they never discussed what would happen when she did go back to Scotland, she knew deep down that if he had asked her to stay, she fucking would have. She would have done anything he asked of her. The knowledge of that, the knowledge that she would one hundred percent uproot her life because a boy, a man, went against everything she had ever thought about herself… and it had been enough to cause her to have a complete meltdown, leave in the middle of the night, and then go on to diligently ignore all calls and messages from said man for over a month until he eventually stopped trying.
Mary’s called her a daft idiot every day since.
But, now, here he was. Still perfectly god-like, still smiling at her like he had through the entire eight weeks spent wrapped up in each other's arms almost six months ago, like she hadn’t left him without so much as a word of goodbye.
“Sirius runs a shop, he’ll get them fixed, I’ll get him to come tow—”
“No, that’s okay, you don’t—”
“Evans,” he cuts her off, “I insist. Besides, he’ll die when he hears you're back in town.”
Back in town.
She’s forgotten. Forgotten in her rush to move, to take up the job offer that would count towards her grade, to organise her schedule at her new campus. She’d forgotten that she was in his territory again, having given up her rights to walk guilt free through the streets of London when she’d run back to Scotland.
It wasn’t as if she hadn’t thought about him every day since she’d left— because of course she has, he’s had the monopoly on her thoughts since the first time he’d kissed her, looked at her even— but in the haste of it all, she’s forgotten.
His smile doesn’t waver as he presses the phone between his ear and shoulder, the blankets still bundled in his arms. She catches the small orange paw that swipes upwards and moves forward. James’ eyes follow her, brows knitting together the closer she gets to him. She shakes her head and reaches for the cat bundled in his arms, pulling Pickles out from James grasp and into her chest.
She cradles the cat, gently checking his paws, his legs, his tail. She stretches gently behind one of his ears and the cats’ eyes close.
“You’re a natural. You still doing it then?”
“Huh?”
“Studying to be a vet?”
“Oh,” She catches his eye, “Yeah.”
“Good. Every time you spoke about it, you just had this way about you. I always thought you were so in love with it.” The warmth in his voice is so familiar it settles deep in her core. She feels out of breath.
“Sirius is…?” She nods to his phone.
“On his way, five minutes.” He steps closer, “How’s Pickles?”
She looks down, her fingers still scratching lazily behind the cat's ears. “Okay, I think.” He beams at her, the relief visibly flooding through him as his shoulders drop, “But, I should probably take him to get properly checked out. I’m only a student assistant… what?”
Something shifts in his expression, leaving her unable to read him as she had been able to do so easily back in the summer.
“How come you're back?” She knows he doesn’t mean it as an accusation, and she knows that he probably doesn’t mean for the hurt to seep into his tone, but it does anyway, and it hits her right in the gut.
“I… I got offered a…” She inhales, shakily, her lungs shuddering in her chest as the intensity of his gaze scorches her skin, “I missed home. Edinburgh just felt odd after—” She stops herself.
“After…?”
“I just missed home.” She does her best to give him her most convincing smile.
She rocks back and forth, the cat still cradled in her arms. She tries not to stare at him too much, her eyes flickering from his face to his shoulder, his arms, his chest.
“I—“
“Wh—”
They laugh, hazel blazing into emerald, hearts pounding in their chests.
“You go.”
His hand lifts into his hair, “When?” he asks.
“Only a few days ago. I got the call Wednesday, found a flat Friday, got on a train Sunday… it all happened really quickly. I still have six months left of school so transferring has been a nightmare but this job counts as a placement so I only have to finish up two extra classes and then I’m… sorry, I’m rambling.”
“I remember you used to do that when you were nervous about something.” Lily nods, her mouth drying, cheeks blazing, “You never called. Hell, you never called back.”
“I—” She hesitates. At the end of the street, a tow truck turns the corner. Lily lifts herself up on her toes, watching it over James’ shoulder. His gaze doesn’t leave her face, and as she brings herself back down, she wavers slightly. His hand reaches out, steading her, fingers scolding even through the fabric of her scrubs.
“Would you have called?” His voice is low, questioning, and it draws her eyes back to his, “Did you think about me at all after you left?”
“All the time.” The words left her mouth before she’s able to catch them, “I— Of course I was going to call. I—” She exhales, leaning into his touch, “I didn’t think you'd want to hear from me, if I’m honest.”
“Are you kidding?” He steps closer, once more, the gap between them shrinking into nothing.
“Well, I did just sneak out and get on a train to Scotland…”
“A little dramatic, yes, but hey—” A finger brushes against her cheek, trailing to her jaw, gently tilting her face up, “I happen to like some dramatics from time to time.” He’s smiling, making a joke, doing his best to make light of the shit situation she put them in.
“I’m so sorry, James.” She starts, but he shakes his head, “No, I am. Leaving was fucking shit thing to do. I should have… we never talked… I thought about you all the—”
Pickles is pressed between them as his lips find her hers, his hands reaching up to cup her cheeks, his fingers brushing against her jaw. His kiss is light, at first, and when she leans into him, tilting her face up to allow him to deepen it, he obliges. He breaks from her, his forehead pressing against hers, their chests rising and falling heavily as they try to catch their breaths.
The tow truck parks. .
“Hi, I’m James.” He whispers, “I have a thing for helping stray cats, I work in finance, live with my brother and his girlfriend which can sometimes drive me a bit insane because they like to have loud fights in the kitchen at two in the morning, and I fell in love with a girl over summer who ran away back to Scotland before I could tell her.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?” He laughs.
“I’m Lily,” Her eyes flicker downwards, her fingers still buried in Pickles’ fur, and then back to his face. “I fell in love with you too.”
Guess the author in this form! You can also leave reviews here that I’d pass on to the authors!
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Bughead chemistry is still fire. The show may actually go down because of the other ships but bughead is timeless.
for real tho, even the songs they've been using for them have been pretty smexy sounding. they're not dumb.
more anons under the cut:
i'm sure someone will disagree with me about things being called fanservice when it's not but not liking something doesn't mean it happening is fanservice (this applies to b/a too). they've always used b/a for drama and sometimes, yeah, as a plot device for bughead.
and i say bughead based on the way the show treats it as an issue for bughead and not v/a. if they decided to extend a bughead and v/a reunion, then yeah, they were always going to fallback on what they've always done for them. they fell back on veronica and reggie. and getting jughead out of the way? does no one really see the convenience factor here? people really think they just time jumped where bughead had a history during that time and it's just...fine? they're all just going to hold hands and skip to the finish line with these new, conflict free ships?
even in the first 4 seasons of riverdale, the ships had conflict on the regular.
but the b/as are very selective in what they pay attention to or acknowledge. first they said it was canon because of roberto (which, yes, that is how even AUs work in media when they're shown, the thing still happened even if it won't matter past that) then they said it was an AU because archie died then they said it was still canon because they were getting their b/a wedding and then said it was meaningless because bughead was kissing.
uh. pick a lane, guys. we (and by we, i mean most bugheads and v/as) knew that it was an AU? and that it was also canon but also not in riverdale? like, that wasn't hard to figure out from the original event trailer? enjoying ship content where we find it is how shipping works, actually.
as for 6b, hmm. if the betty pyrokinesis thing is totally legit then i guess we're doing that? tho, i wonder if it's part of cheryl's curse and that's why it's concentrated on the 3 of them having stuff happen to them. i'm guessing they're all dealing with the after affects of the bomb for the first couple of episodes and then it's not until 6x08 or 9 where they start to get into that, when the vale stuff starts to come over? i know lili was missing for a bit while filming recently right? so not sure what that means for those eps but i would figure we're going to get into the tbk, curse, archie's new nemesis plot mid-season maybe?
after that, there's been a teased love triangle and i can see how and why people think it's going to be b/j/a but we'll see. roberto oversells and underdelivers so who knows? i definitely think we're going to get some weirdo plots and they still need to bring the "epic battle between good and evil" thing they pushed back. if i'm being honest, i fully expect we'll get what we got in s5 (and 4, 3, 2, 1...) and the main couples will be back in each other's orbits investigating the mystery (bughead) and trying to solve the town's issues (v/a).
no i haven't but i feel like someone on my dash watched it and i wanted to watch it based off of that. then i forgot and you just reminded me. so thank you for that.
i'm sure she will. i'm also pretty sure veronica and archie will work together like always, ha. i think the thing is that veronica is the one who broke up with archie in s5 so maybe that plays a part in her decisions, i don't know. veronica often acts like everything that bothers her is in the past so she can keep it moving so having her actually deal with some stuff would be nice for a change tbh.
but the show writes women like that a lot. they rarely get to express themselves for more than 5 seconds before sucking it up and putting on a brave face because that's what a lot of these writers think being a strong woman is.
that's not how that works but whatever.
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October reading list
This month I binge-read a lot. It's my way to relax. Even if I'm a fast reader, I think I over did it.
It was mostly a Draco/Harry month. I want to rec the ones I enjoy the most. Beware, they are not new to fandom; they are new to me.
DRARRY
Far From The Tree by aideomai
The arrival of Harry Potter’s children—snapped back in time, the children themselves guessed, twenty or so years—was the most interesting thing to happen at Hogwarts for years.
Why I like it:
I like time travel and time paradox fics, but this one blew my mind. It is well written, with good characterization and a great plot. Draco and Harry are in their eighth year, both going through very different processes. Tropes: Slow burn and time travel.
Someone like it as much as I did, and make a real, physical book out of it. Look at this fantastic fic binding. I'm jealous.
Dwelling by aideomai
Curses, James and Lily Potter ride again, several Ministry balls, a teenage Summer of Love, a grim young adult dystopian winter, a few different Draco Malfoys, secrets and the problems re: not having any, alternate lives, impossible lives, real lives, allusions to Dirty Dancing, and just because it's not called the Mirror of Erised doesn't mean you shouldn't know better.
Why I like it:
The summary sounds abysmal, but nothing this author writes is bad. Believe me. It was one of the ones I enjoyed the most, and this month I found several jewels. Little can be explained without making spoilers. It is a two-part story, one of which has some alternate reality. I love this story.
Freedom to be by Quicksilvermaid
Harry Potter is the Boy Who Lived.
12 years after the war, he's become the Boy Who Lived For Everyone Else. He has the perfect wife. The perfect house. The perfect job. The perfect friends.
Only nothing feels perfect.
Until one day he stumbles across a club called Release and begins a journey of self-discovery that takes him to a very different place.
Why I like it:
Harry's fragility, the way he denys what he needs and the way Draco cares for him is beautiful. The addictive nature of their relationship makes everything harder. There is one BDSM scene that stayed with me, which shows the deep burden of guilt Harry carries with him. Tropes: Submissive Harry, Enemies to lovers.
Who we are in the shadows by Quicksilvermaid
What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise?
Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life. When he comes across Draco Malfoy in the criminal underbelly of Wizarding London and in need of protection, Harry figures bringing him in to face the Ministry's justice is his ticket back to everything he's lost.
But nothing is exactly as it seems. Not even Harry himself. And as he gets drawn further and further into Malfoy's world of honour and deception he finds himself questioning everything he thought he knew—about his childhood nemesis, the Ministry job he misses so much, and most of all, about himself.
What happens when you’re forced to see that you were wrong?
Why I like it:
I like redemption stories as well as secret identities. This one has both and is well written.
Dirtynumbangelboy by Magpie_fngrl
After Harry’s unfortunate encounter with his ex, Draco Malfoy makes him a proposition. Draco wants his parents to stop matchmaking him and Harry wants to make his ex jealous. All they need to do is simply pretend they’re in love. Problem is… Draco already is.
Why I like it:
A light story of fake relationships while secretly pinning.
Variation by LowerEastSide
After suffering enormous losses, Draco Malfoy must now struggle to define his place in the post-war world. Through dashed hopes and changing fortunes, Draco carves out a new niche for himself. But adapting to life with Harry Potter may be the biggest challenge of all.
Why I like it:
I love stories where Draco has to start from scratch. The plot is quite original, and there is an important load of emotional hurt and comfort.
Nice Things by aideomai
The first thing that happened was Theodore Nott came back from France.
Why I like it:
This is a beautiful story about how both characters deal with their last year at Hogwarts after the war. It is simple but beautiful.
The Miseducation of Draco Malfoy by Magpie_fngrl
Zacharias Smith writes a tell-all about the D.A. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are not happy about it.
Why I like it:
This is a very nice story, in which Harry and Draco must overcome their enmity in a rather unusual way. I like the living in the muggle world trope.
Check this fantastic art inspired by this fic by zigster-ao3
Men Who Love Dragons Too much by fencer_x
[Extensive re-telling of Deathly Hallows] ‘Kill Albus Dumbledore’ is less a challenging task and more a suicide mission, so when Draco Malfoy is presented with the option to either dispatch his Headmaster or suffer an excruciating and most ignominious death of his own, along with his parents, he reaches deep into his black little Slytherin heart and manages to scrape together enough courage to go with option C instead: Spend Sixth Year secretly studying Animagecraft in the hopes he’ll turn into something sufficiently imposing even the Dark Lord himself won’t be able to keep Draco under his thumb. But just his luck, his Animagus form turns out to be a dragon, and a rather randy juvenile at that, intent on finding its mate: one Harry James Potter.
Why I like it:
If you want to read a long novel, this is your story. It is well written and entertaining despite retelling the last book.
Look this fantastic art
Neville/Draco
This month I read a short story about this rare pair, it's odd but it works.
Trying by aideomai
Neville had hoped when he left Hogwarts that he’d never have to see Draco Malfoy again; he’d barely even seen him in that last, terrible year, when Malfoy had dropped out somewhere around the Easter term. But then Harry, Ron, and Hermione came back from their delayed seventh year and with them, pale and sneering and sharp-tongued as ever, came Malfoy.
GEN
Wisteria Walk by Talis_Borne
Ann Dursley has a loving husband, three sweet children, and the mother-in-law from hell. It’s the usual tense dinner with Petunia until the mention of ‘Cousin Harry,’ who Ann has never heard of before, sends her in-laws into a panic and her husband into a funk of guilty conscience.
Why I like it:
Is there a chance for the two cousins to get along? This fic explore that chance. A short and sweet story.
History Lessons by Bloodpage-Alchemist
Children are products of their environment. A look at what Dudley Dursley could have been under the right influences, namely that of his History teacher and new friends, and what could have been.
Why I like it:
Dudley has a real chance for change.
[Excuse my poor English grammar]
#dudley#harry potter#drarry#draco malfoy#harry potter fanart#hp fanfic#fanart#harry potter fanfiction#fic rec#fanfic#harry potter tropes#fic recs
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okay please give me a blorbography on these unhinged middle school kids you keep putting on my dash
THANKS FOR SENDING ME AN ASK ABOUT MY UNHINGED MIDDLE SCHOOL KIDS BESTIE <3 <3 <3 genuinely if you did not do it I would have sent myself an ask and just answered it as though it wasn’t me at all
hee hee. I'll do my avian men first because the series is half as long so there aren't as many choices, and I’ll do Kekkaishi down under that lol
Birdmen
blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most): I hate doubling up on my choices and I want to torment Eishi more than he is my favorite character so I suppose Takayama Sou has to be my blorbo by process of elimination. I do seriously think about this guy all the time. He will really say shit like it’s nothing. “One finds prodigious strength at the scene of a fire...” like he just says that??? unscripted??? he just drops lines like “the secrets to the universe? which one?” and “there’s no way to make everyone happy, right? then why not change the rules of a world like that? from the outside.”???? like holy shit bestie. I think you have some issues!! but by god!! go king give us inscrutable and inexplicable actions!!! Show up in my dreams unprompted or whatever!! go off!!
scrunkly (my “baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped): SAGISAWA REI. he is SUCH a scrunkly scrimblo. he keeps wanting to go to the lourve despite the fact they’re trying to decide the fate of birdmen and humanity at large. he has the best taste in women. the inside of his brain is like schrodinger’s cat. both full and empty at the same time. when it’s full it’s filled with rose jam. I think I’m being influenced by bells here, but I do think he is SO charming. he’s like “wow we should make a club!! that’s a normal activity normal people do, right?? I am getting a good grade in enjoying my student life and making friends”. I would love to be besties with him
scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave): I feel like I could pick anyone not from the bird club and they would qualify as a scrimblo bimblo. I guess if I had to pick ONE I’d pick Jonathan :((((( And I don’t mean Fox, I mean Jonathan specifically. There’s just something so tragic and compelling about his relationship with Jasmine... like good lord. what was going on in his head when Lily was pretending to be Jasmine. was he thinking that he deserved whatever she did to him and that’s why he didn’t tell Fox? on god. shoveling gravel in my mouth.
glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week): Gabriel (NOT Raphael). Look, I know it's kind of a pick from the left field but you can't be a glup shitto if it's not like that!! Gabriel just has excellent vibes idk what to say!! She's lovely and gorgeous and I love her swag!! I was so excited that Milan was getting laid I was like wow!! go besties!! get it!! I was so happy that Gabriel survived the fighter jets and I was really really looking forward to when she woke up again. You don't understand. I YELLED when she jolted awake. And then it turns out that her baby is piloting her comatose body like a mecha now?? That will haunt me for the rest of my life. What the fuck? Rest in peace, Gabriel.
poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave): LOL. TATSUME NAOYUKI LMAOOOO. Yes yes yes I know, I know I say Eishi's the wettest most pathetic guy all the time but truly. he has nothing on Tatsume <3. Eishi could NEVER dream of being kidnapped as a middle-aged professor and confessing to stalking an elementary schooler. He's not unhinged enough to stab himself in the torso on three separate occasions and lay down in the street simulating the circumstances where he ran into Takayama for the first time just to try and get him to show up again. Literally nobody comes close to the pathetic feralness of Associate Professor of Tokyo University and evolutionary biologist Tatsume Naoyuki
horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason): Do you even have to ask. Karasuma Eishi <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell): I would send Robin’s supervisor to superhell, except the problem is that he WANTS to go to superhell, defeating the purpose. My second choice is Wang Guang Feng. idk what it is about that guy but his vibes are just off, big time. I can see why Takayama didn’t choose him.
Kekkaishi
blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most): uuuaaaHGGHAAAAA SUMIKO SUMIMURA MY BELOVEDDDDD. SHE LITERALLY LIVES IN MY MIND RENT FREE... She’s trying so hard, and even so she still fails to connect...she spends a decade building her grave where she'll serve penance for the rest of her life... so beloved by everyone around her and still constantly feeling like she’ll never be human enough to be worth loving... good god I’m going to cry. I’m going to lay down on the floor listening to Dante by R Sound Design while I murmur “let my use my monstrous powers for your sake” over and over
scrunkly (my “baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped): LOL PROBABLY SEN KAGEMIYA. he is just SO scrunkly!! I could grab him by the scruff and shake him around like a ragdoll!! I want to feed him those jelly cups they make for hercules beetles. he’s soooo hypocritical. he will be like “nope I am a rational guy who makes excellent decisions so I will definitely not go save you nope nope not a chance” and then be like “argh you’re such an idiot! I hate that I have to save you!”. Even tanabe says that he’s the closest thing to a tsundere. truly a scrunkly.
scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave): SOJI HIURA. WHERE IS EVERYONE’S LOVE FOR SOJI. WHY AM I ALONE ON THIS HILL. Soji is literally one of the most guys ever!! He likes chocolate cake because the color is nice!!! He likes mechanical pencils and watching washing machines and writing kanji and he’s also a perfect killing machine who’s learning how emotions work what more could you want??? he TAKES NAPS in the AFTERNOON!!! WHY DOES NOBODY ELSE LOVE HIM LIKE I DO??? I GENUINELY DON’T UNDERSTAND....
glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week): GOD WHEN SHUUJI SUMIMURA HAS A MOMENT... like you know. most of the time he is just chilling. just saying “ohhh sweetie go take a nap I know you’re tired” “omg I made too much food would you like to take some home” etc. etc. but Sometimes. Sometimes. His overwhelming love for his wife who is off at war all the fucking time comes out and boy. does he shine in those moments. He loves his wife so much. Did I mention that he loves his wife a lot? He’ll throw tea at you if you badmouth her. He is really such a guy. There isn’t a better father in fictional media.
poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave): You know usually I gravitate towards the “otherwise pathetic” aspect of this one but you know what? We’re going with problematic and controversial this time. Kakeru. Absolute girlboss. Oh yeah you made a spell to cause the heat death of the universe because your beloved mentor got killed?? You’re so valid have a nice day. I usually hate characters who are like “HAHAHA I WILL DESTROY YOUR TOWN! VIOLENCE AND DESTRUCTION. AS A TREAT.” but something about Kakeru just hits different. idk she’s fun :3
horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason): LOL. Yoshimori and Toshimori Sumimura. Yoshimori’s obviously a given since he’s the protagonist and he gets attached to people so easily and he’s so soft and lovable yet so unhinged and reckless. it’s really an awesome combination to violently hurl against a brick wall!!! Now, Toshimori might be a weird one. But in my head I have an AU where he gets kidnapped by Soji and starts hunting mystical sites with Kakeru and Michiru and man... he is going THROUGH it in that one specific scenario and I am loving it. I keep dropping him in the plinko over and over again trying to see whether different things will happen. what a lil guy. what a shame he could be broken
eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell): Kaguro. Hate that guy. vibes are absolutely rancid. if anyone deserves to get sent to superhell it’s him. he already knows he’s going to superhell he’s just trying to have as much fun as he can before he’s gone. he didn’t deserve to be in Yoshimori’s shinkai. get lost loser
Okay now that I’ve written out my blorbos for both series, some observations: I just really like characters who are one step removed from humanity, huh? I mean my faves are apparently Takayama, Sumiko and Soji. They’re all definitely in the same genre of characters. inscrutable. difficult to communicate with. difficult to control. but still so beloved. still so beloved.
I also see a strong pattern in the characters I wanted to send to superhell LOL. I feel like I simply don’t like evil characters!! I was SO ready for Guang Feng to become an antagonist of some sort, because he’s coded EXACTLY like an asshole guy who Eishi would want to beat up in a fistfight except there’s not a single fistfight he could ever win!! But I understand from the narrative themes that it wasn’t going to happen-- a distinct lack of conflict between birdmen is integral to the plot. Regarding Kaguro... I just don’t know. I just don’t think the Kokuboro arc was very compelling. Byaku, Kaguro, Matsudo... I just didn’t find any of them particularly interesting, and I didn’t get attached to any of them. Kaguro tried really hard to be evil but yoshi’s right. he really has no substance at all. just go to superhell king.
regarding the horse plinko. genuinely if you’re not putting the protag through the horse plinko what are you doing?? writing domestic fluff about them???? couldn’t be me (THIS IS NOT A CRITICISM OF FLUFFY CONTENT. I LOVE READING IT!! I JUST CAN’T MAKE STUFF LIKE THAT. ITS JUST NOT HOW I WORK...)
anyways bestie thank you so much for allowing me to go off about my blorbos <3 <3 <3
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Sparks Fly -- L.G.
Falling in love with my best friend was never the plan. I mean a girl from the South Side who was just trying to get a two year degree and ignoring the fact that her parents were never coming back, falling for the man who was a recovering alcoholic who had an addict and alcoholic father an a bipolar mother who had the potential to get a degree from any college he wanted?
What could possibly go wrong?
“Come on, get in, I’ll drive you the the bar for work.” Lip told me getting up from the couch, as I was getting ready to walk to work.
“You just got back from work,” I reminded him. I knew that after his shift at the garage he would want to sleep, but he ignored my comment and slipped his coat on an a hat over my head.
“It’s negative ten degrees out,” he commented. “The fuck you’re walking to the bar from here.”
“But—“ I tried to protest but it was useless.
“Get your ass in the car, Lily.”
I never thought the passenger seat of lips old car would ever be as inviting as it was, but as we listened to music and he smoked, I realized I was in love with Lip. Fuck.
The worst part was, and I knew it, was that everybody basically knew that I liked Lip, besides Lip. He was the only consistent person in my life besides Fiona and Ian, and the only true person to care about me in a way that was more special than Ian and Fiona did. I loved my Gallagher’s like they were my own, but Lip was different.
He could smile at me and I would forget how to breathe. He could hold me in bed and I would forget all my problems. He punched a kid at a party who tried to roofie me and I swear in that moment I had never felt more loved.
He held me the whole night as I cried for hours because my mom was never coming back home, never once getting upset even though he had brought it up before.
He held me two days after I got raped and I refused to leave Carl’s bed. He slid in behind me as I faced the wall and held me for hours and hours. He didn’t make me talk, he didn’t make me cry, he didn’t have me look at him. He held me until I was able to to turn around and face him and the truth of what had happened.
He was there when my dad had died. He came to the funeral, he held my hand, he made small talk with my grandma and everything. He sat with me while I sat by the grave and cried after everybody had left.
He was there when nobody else was.
“It’s just so hard at night,” he commented as he flicked his smoke. “That’s when it all sets in and I can only thinking about alcohol.”
“How do you not drink?” I asked. “I mean you come to the bar and hangout with me, V, and Kev, and then you go home and everybody but me and Debby drink. I just don’t know how you do it.” I commented, pulling my leg to my chest.
“Honestly? It’s why I sneak into yours and Liam’s room.” I stared at him and waited for him to continue. “Liam’s basically my child. And sometimes just watching you both so peacefully is enough to get me through the night.”
“What about when Liam sleeps with Carl or Debby because I work late?” That was the real question. Lip ended up in my room almost every night, whether Liam was there or not. Most nights, because I worked the bar until closing, Liam slept in Debby’s room or with Carl. That didn’t stop Lip from climbing into bed with me.
He scratched the back of his neck, his nervous tick. “I think you’re my light in a dark place.” He muttered. “You stood by me through it all, ya know? Karen, Fiona, Frank, Marcia, the stuff with school, Ian, Debby having a baby, rehab, twice. You were just always there. The one consistent thing in my life.” He focused solely on the road and I smiled to myself. “And even when you’re sleeping, I know it’s enough to keep me from stopping to drink.”
I grabbed his hand lightly and threaded our fingers together, and kissed his cheek. “Stay at the bar until I close?” I asked quietly. Lip kissed the back of my hand and my cheeks flamed rosy red.
“Don’t I always?” It was true, when I worked at the bar, Lip stayed and had one to many cokes and scared off the spiteful men that tried to get in my pants.
“Sometimes you you go off with a girl,” I muttered bashfully. I did not want Lip to know the sinking feeling I got in my stomach when I knew he was with a girl.
“Haven’t since I got out of rehab.” He breathed lowly. I thought back on it. Had it been that long? Really? “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”
I gave an embarrassing smile. “Are you saying I’m only cute when I’m jealous of other girls?”
Lip didn’t miss a beat. “You’re always cute. You’re cute when you cling yourself to me even though half the bed is yours. You’re cute when you try to reason with Carl and you scrunch your nose up. You’re cute when you and Liam dance in the kitchen to Johnny Cash. You’re cute when you get angry at your chemistry homework. Scratch that, you’re hot when you’re angry. You’re cute when you come home from work and just drop into bed after changing into my shirt. You’re cute when you blush. You’re cute when you wake up in the morning. You’re cute when I come downstairs and you’re making breakfast in my shirt and boxers. I think that’s when I find you the cutest.” I stared at Lip as he pulled into the bar. “What?” He asked as he felt my stare on him.
“You -- you,” I stumbled for words. “How the hell am I suppose to go to work for seven hours with all I want to do is kiss you?”
Lip barked out a laugh. “Well, princess, I guess you’ll just have to wait until after the ball for you prince charming to kiss you.”
I scoffed, and swung myself over the console, straight on to Lip’s lap.
“Not even a kiss for the girl who’s sitting on your lap?” I leaned my head to one side and let my hair fall around us like a blanket.
“If I’m going to kiss you,” He breathed into my ear making me shiver, “It’s going to be my moment. This,” He gestured between us. “Is extremely hot, don’t get me wrong, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more turned on, and you better believe we are going to do it in the car, but our first moment will not be here.”
“Okay,” I muttered, trying to ignore the bile in my stomach from rejection and tried to think of the possibilities that would happen when I left work.
“Hey,” He gripped my thighs tightly. “I want this badly, baby. Just not like this. You deserve special. And this isn’t special.” My heart fluttered, he knew I had never been with anyone or done anything, that I was waiting for the right person. I didn’t want what happened with my parents to ever happen with me.
“Okay,” I said more bashfully, now shy at my forwardness, biting my lip.
“Don’t do that,” Lip said, gripping my thighs tighter.
“Don’t do what?” I muttered, confused.
“You bite your lip.” I stared at him, very confused.
“Yeah, so? I do it all the time,” I muttered off handedly, failing to notice the problem.
“It’s hot.” Blushed bright red for what felt like the hundredth time today.
“It’s hot when I do that, but yet you don’t want to kiss me?” I quirked my eye at the 23 year old.
“Come here,” He muttered. He pulled me to his chest and I shifted to get comfortable. That’s when I felt it. He was hard. “Yeah, that,” He muttered softly. “Is from you. And it’s probably going to stay that way until we get back to the house.”
“I should get to work,” I muttered, my hot breath making goosebumps arise on his neck.
“And Liam is sleeping with somebody else tonight. The only person who gets you tonight is me.” I kissed his pulse point softly before scrambling out of the car, looking at a flustered Lip.
“Are you coming?” I asked, looking back at him, finally noticing how flustered he was. “Awe, are you the one that’s all hot and bothered now?” I giggled.
He glared at me before hopping quickly out of the car and dashing towards me. I shrieked and made a mad dash for the bar. I quickly ran in and ran behind Kev. “Save me,” I pleaded as Lip came in flying behind me.
“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you for the pretty lady.” Lip said with a fake, horrible, British accent. I squealed and ran into the back.
Kev laughed, “Y’all are idiots!” Kev called after us as Lip chased me.
“I got you,” he slammed me against the door of the girls bathroom and I took a deep breath as his hot breath fanned my face and his arms went above my head.
“Yeah, and what are you gonna do about it mister. As far as we’re concerned nothing’s happening until after my shift.” I said in the brattiest voice I could muster.
“Don’t be a brat just because you’re not getting your way,” he threaded his fingers through my hair and tugged harshly. I gulped. I knew this was what I wanted.
“Right,” I nodded slowly. “But I am a brat, so what are you going to do about it?” I taunted, pushing my chest forward, knowing how to use my assets.
Lip took a deep breath as his eyes glanced between my eyes and my chest.
“You’re going to go to work and then when we get home,” He moved so his hands were set just below my breasts and he rubbed the underside of them. My breath hitched in my throat. “Then, we will have fun, you brat.”
I’ll admit, him calling me a brat turned me on more than I wanted to admit. “Okay, I mumbled.”
“Now go work before Kev comes and yells at you.” Lip muttered, kissing my forehead firmly. I pranced out to the bar, knowing full well that Lip was watching my ass.
Throughout my shift, I knew Lip was watching me. I laughed with Veronica throughout the whole shift.
“V!” I giggled as she made another joke about Kev. “You can’t say that about your husband!”
“Lip’s looking at you again,” She wiggled her eyebrows and gave me a knowing look. My cheeks flamed bright red. “You finally admit that you guys like each other?”
“Kinda,” I muttered. “We’re not gonna define it, I don’t think.” I said softly. “The last thing he needs is me going crazy on him trying to define something when we don’t even know what it is.”
“Girl, you trippin’ if you don’t see how he looks at you.” I stared at her blankly. “I mean, you both have had eyes on each other for years.”
“Yeah, maybe me, but no way for him.” I mumbled wiping a glass. “He had Karen, and then he had Mandy. Then he had that thing with his professor and then quickly moved on to Sierra. And I look nothing like them. Plus I have all my scars and that’s a lot of trauma.”
“Look at me.” She said softly. “It doesn’t matter that you don’t look like them, baby. He loves you and that’s what matters. Your trauma is also his, he’s been there through it all. Also, you’ve been with him through all the things too. He loves you girl, don’t doubt that.” V told me honestly. “Plus, you’re hot as fuck girl.”
After my shift, V told me that she would lock everything up with Kev. I smiled as Lip pulled me into his side.
“You ready to go home?” He asked, glancing down at me as I nervously fidgeted.
“Yeah, but,” I hesitated briefly, “Can we take it slow?” I whispered, nervously.
“Yeah,” He muttered, pressing his lips to forehead. “Whatever you want.”
My heart warmed at his sweetness and I hugged him tightly as we made our way to Lip’s car. I gnawed my lip as he opened my car door. I was in for a long night.
#lip gallagher imagine#lip gallagher#lip gallagher fluff#shameless#shameless imagine#shameless fluff#lip gallagher imagine fluff#best friends to lovers imagine#best friends to lovers#fluff#fluffy#fluff imagine#fluffy imagine
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