#I know it's been a week to the date since the last episode | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ginnsbaker · 17 days

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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (7/?)

Part summary: Six weeks later, Leigh decides to throw herself a birthday party.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 6.600+ | Warnings : None | Author's Note: Just a reminder that this doesn't strictly follow canon events. Borrowed some elements from the actual birthday episode, but it's going to go very differently for us :) Enjoy!

Six weeks later

“Hey! Happy birthday, sweetheart!” Leigh’s mom calls out from the kitchen as Leigh hurries down the stairs. She runs straight into Amy’s arms, a ball of energy, drawing bewildered looks from her mom and sister. Ever since Matt died, they are used to Leigh either being too quiet or too snarky. Today, of all days, they were expecting her to be something else much worse. But it seems they're mistaken as Leigh turns to Jules, yanks her in close, and kisses her hair.

Jules and Amy share a look. To say this as an interesting development would be an understatement. It's her birthday—her first one without Matt, who had been at the heart of her celebrations for the last decade. They hope Leigh finds some happiness, truly, but these past several months have taught them to temper their expectations.

They keep their silent exchange to themselves, watching as Leigh picks up a croissant and takes a heart bite out of it, her face lit up with the widest smile. “Happy birthday,” Jules grins, pushing a small envelope towards Leigh. “Got something for you.”

“Thank you!” Leigh exclaims. She eagerly opens the envelope to find a bunch of homemade coupons, each promising some sort of favor from Jules, good for the next year. They range from “Will listen to your rants for 30 minutes, no interruptions” to “I will restart the book club you tried to get me and mom to do and actually read the books this time.”

Laughing, Leigh flips through them. “These are brilliant, Jules. Might have to use one today,” she says, already thinking about which one she'll cash in first. Then, she pulls Jules in a bear hug, as if it’s the most exquisite present she’s ever gotten in her lifetime.

“You okay?” Leigh asks when she notices Amy staring at her.

Jules gives their mom a warning look as Amy struggles to come up with a response. “Nothing, I just… I didn’t think you’d be doing quite so well today. That’s all.”

“I didn’t either but we all make choices and I’m choosing to have a great birthday. So, let’s do this thing!” Leigh says in a manner that Jules feels too over the top. Amy starts laying out the plans for the evening and Leigh has a blank look by the time she finishes running them through it.

“I think I want a party,” Leigh announces. It’s met with astonishment, as if it’s the last thing her family’s expecting to hear.

“You do?” Amy.

“A party?” Jules.

Leigh isn’t perturbed by their reactions. “I do. I want a party,” she confirms. She delights at the dumb look on their faces as she reiterates, “Tonight. I want a big party.”

“You’re not having a big party.”

Danny calls her up the minute he gets her Facebook invite. He's partly furious about receiving the invite through Facebook, given that they’re “kind of seeing each other”, and partly incredulous because he couldn’t believe she’s making plans on her birthday without considering the fact that they are “kind of seeing each other”.

Leigh, phone wedged between her shoulder and ear as she flips through a recipe book on her kitchen counter, rolls her eyes so hard she worries they might stick that way.

“Well, yes, Danny, that's exactly what I'm doing,” she fires back matter-of-factly.

Danny's frustration simmers on the other end of the line. He had already made plans, not bothering to consult Leigh because he assumed that their day would be spent together—privately, just the two of them.

“You didn’t think I’d have something planned?” he asks, more hurt than angry.

“Why would I think that?”

“Because we’re dating, Leigh,” he says, appalled that he needs to remind her. Leigh takes a second, biting her lip. Maybe it was a bit inconsiderate that she didn’t consider Danny when she impulsively decided she wanted a big celebration. But that flicker of guilt is short lived.

After all, she couldn’t remember the last time she’s actually excited for something, the last time she thought, I deserve to be happy.

“Yeah, well, I can still do what I want, Danny,” she retorts.

“Now you’re acting like a child,” he snaps.

Leigh feels a flash of anger, then something else—determination. “Maybe so. Come to the party or not, I don’t care. I'm going to have fun, Danny, with or without you.”

“Fine. Just don’t—”

Leigh doesn’t let him finish. With a press of a button, the call ends, his words cut off mid-sentence. Too often, she’s been criticized for not always following through with her declarations, but it's a different game when she's out to prove something.

Drew steps carefully around a minefield of clothes and makeup scattered on the floor to get to Leigh. She's curled up over her laptop, one leg propped on the chair, chin on her knee, in a posture that makes Drew wince. “For a fitness instructor, you're not exactly a poster child for back health,” he says, announcing himself to his best friend.

Leigh's head snaps up at Drew's voice, but instead of annoyance, a smirk quickly spreads across her face. “Good thing I'm not a fitness instructor anymore, then,” she says. Then she turns her attention back to her laptop as if he’s not there. Drew moves to sit on the edge of her bed, flops down on it like a ragdoll and stares at the cobwebs on the corners of the ceiling.

“I know what you’ve been doing, Leigh,” he says.

Leigh is unphased, keeps typing. Then, as if she’s just heard his remark, mutters a distracted, “What have I been doing?”

“Avoiding. You've been avoiding writing about anything that's even remotely related to love or grief,” Drew says.

This time, Leigh stops typing. She sighs, a long, drawn-out exhale that seems to carry the weight of the world. “I’m busy, Drew. This gig is eating up all my time.”

After leaving the Beautiful Beast, she took on a part-time job as a remote project manager. With Matt gone, she's left to deal with the debts they racked up together. She loved her studio job, really did, and wasn't fazed by the slim paycheck because it helped her mom out. Being surrounded by family has been a huge support (despite her occasional squabbles with Jules), but she knows she'll need to move out on her own again at some point. Ultimately, the pressing need for financial stability has pushed her to seek out better-paying opportunities.

Drew straightens up, leaning in with his elbows on his knees. “Bullshit.”

Leigh looks over her shoulder at him with mild irritation. “What do you want me to say, Drew?”

“You're meeting your weekly quota on other topics,” he points out. “Makes me wonder if bringing you back to the advice column was…premature.”

It sounds like a threat, but coming from him, she understands it as an early warning in case the senior editor begins to notice the issue. Leigh smiles thinly, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Why does it even matter which topics I choose to engage with? First off, I'm collaborating with other writers now; it's not entirely my show anymore. Secondly, I've been doing a good job—”

“A great job, actually.”

Leigh tilts her head, genuinely puzzled. “So, what's the problem?”

“They're expecting you to lead on those topics because you've lived through them. They're looking for more authenticity in the pieces,” Drew explains.

Leigh looks out the window, seemingly lost in thought, then shakes her head slightly. “What, you want me to write about how I started picking fights left and right after Matt died? Do you want me to detail my attempts at fixing his depression, as if it were as manageable as setting a broken bone?”

“You don’t have to delve into the most personal details.”

“It can’t be authentic if it’s not personal,” Leigh sneers.

“Just think about it, okay?” Drew presses, a little desperately.

Leigh chews on the inside of her cheek, mulling it over. There's a whole part of her story she hasn't even touched on with him—the string of one-night stands with Danny, the way she's snapped at anyone who dared to disagree with her in the past few weeks. She's been on edge, not really liking the person she's been, and the thought of putting that version of herself out there for everyone to see is nothing short of humiliating.

As a writer, she knows what to say, the same way a psychologist would know what to do even if they don’t need to have all sorts of human experience to help someone in every situation. But she also questions her right to preach behavior to others when she's far from having it all figured out herself. Regardless of her indecision, she knows Drew’s not going to drop it until she at least tells him she’ll consider.

“Fine,” she says, with a nod. “I'll sift through the inbox and tackle the ones I feel up to.”

“There you go, that's my girl,” Drew says, visibly relaxing. But then, a moment later, he feels a stab of guilt for showing up mostly because of work. It's been a while since they've hung out, their usual brunch dates falling through one after the other, and their daily chats have shriveled up to a few messages a week, with mostly just memes from Leigh that Drew hardly ever acknowledges. Eventually, Leigh just stopped sending them.

Drew fidgets, avoiding eye contact for a second before it dawns on him—he hasn't just been busy; he's been dodging Leigh on purpose ever since he popped the question to his partner. He was worried Leigh wouldn’t take the news well, considering the things she’s been going through. But if he’s being brutally honest with himself, a part of him just didn't want her grief to dampen his excitement. He was worried her sadness might dampen his spirits, and in a bid to preserve his own happiness, he’d left her out in the cold. He hadn't stopped to think that maybe he owed Leigh more than just her column.

“So, uh, how’s it going?” Drew asks cautiously.

“It’s going,” Leigh offers. Heartfelt talks aren't their thing, so Leigh decides to brush it off fast. “By the way, I'm throwing a birthday party for myself.” It comes out a bit more cheerfully than she feels.

“A party? That's great, Leigh!” Drew exclaims. “And hey, if you need help setting up or anything, just let me know.”

“Yeah,” she forces a smile, not as enthusiastic as she was about the idea at breakfast. “It's tonight, though. You're coming, right? And bring anyone fun you know.”

“Wow, OK,” Drew nods before his face morphs into a grin, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “So, is this where you're planning to hard launch your new relationship? At your party?”

Leigh’s eyes sharpen into slits. “You know about Danny?”

“Jules told me,” he says.

Rolling her eyes, Leigh retorts, “Let me guess, she told you so you'd join the haters club?”

“Nah,” Drew shrugs, his smile bright and sunny. “Danny's okay, I guess. If you're happy, I'm happy.”

She hasn’t been not happy lately. It’s not all sunshine and rainbows, but it sure beats being on her own. So maybe she is—or at least, on her way.

“Thanks, Drew,” she murmurs thoughtfully.

Drew makes himself comfy, chin in hand, looking like he's all set for one of their marathon catch-ups. "So, how did you and Danny even start? Tell me everything."

Leigh's trunk is a one-can band, banging and clanging with every turn. Her groceries create a beat, something to fill in the lack of sound in her car. It’s how she drives these days—in utter silence. Before, she wouldn't even think of heading out without the perfect playlist, which often took her an extra five to fifteen minutes after settling into the driver's seat. But these days, as soon as the key is in the ignition, she twists it and takes off, not even waiting for the car to warm up.

Organizing a party by herself (with Jules' indispensable assistance, of course) and extending invites to her entire Facebook friends list has turned into quite the ruse. She's seasoned enough to temper her expectations—knowing well that not everyone who RSVP'd “yes” will show, and that some who didn't bother to RSVP might just surprise her by showing up. So, she's stocked up on as much food as her sedan can hold.

While Leigh's mind wanders to what snacks to whip up and what sauces to pair them with, she accidentally ends up on a lane that forces a left turn instead of going straight. This little misstep means she's got to take the scenic route home, which, by pure coincidence, takes her right past your clinic's street.

Her heartbeat quickens, though it shouldn't. There's no reason for it. She hasn't seen you in a month, not since the night she made a bold declaration on her bedroom door.

Leigh never planned on actually liking you as a person. Initially, her motive was purely to get a closer look, to dissect what it was about you that caught Matt's eye, what you possessed that she lacked. However, the answer to that mystery didn't remain elusive for long after spending a little time with you. You had this kindness about you, soft and easy, something Leigh’s always found just out of her reach. She prides herself on being decent enough but next to you, she feels a bit more like sandpaper to your silk.

Matt was like that too—gentle, easygoing. Leigh is well aware of her own rough edges, her sharp corners that don't quite align with Matt's smoother ones—and, by extension, yours. You and Matt had more in common than just interests; you both saw and reacted to the world in similar ways. Finding out that you and Matt were alike in important ways, in ways she wasn't, is something she's still learning to cope with.

As she nears your clinic, her eyes instinctively search it out, a habit she can't seem to break.

This time, her timing is impeccable; just as she glides by, you step outside with a puppy in your arms, licking your face all over. You catch sight of her car from a distance, and you couldn’t stop the surprise that flashes across your face. As she drives past, you give her a little wave, puppy still in tow. Leigh cracks a small smile, then throws on her aviators, maybe trying to hide a bit more than her eyes. She sneaks one last look in the rearview, catching you watching her car disappear down the street before you head back into the clinic.

As soon as she gets home and is safely out of the car, she opens her messages.

The last text you sent her says, “I'm sorry. I hope we can still be friends,” sent three days after the encounter in her bedroom. She didn't respond to it, and you didn't push any further or impose yourself on her.

She wishes she had at least reacted with a heart or sent a smiley face to your message. Maybe then, inviting you to her party tonight wouldn’t feel so awkward. Nevertheless, she manages to type out a quick invite and extends to you the courtesy of bringing a plus one, someone you believe would be good company.

Your response arrives within five seconds of her hitting send.

“Thank you, I'll be sure to drop by :)” - Y/N

Satisfied, Leigh sets her phone aside. Now, she can focus on making those Deviled eggs.

The dress she's pulled from Jules's closet is a bold choice: deep black with a plunging neckline and a hem that flirts with daring. It's sexy, but not quite Leigh's usual style—and that's exactly why she loves it. It clings to her in all the right places, promising a confidence that Leigh isn't entirely sure she feels. Her hair, which is normally pulled back in a no-nonsense ponytail, hangs loose and wavy. She tops off her outfit with a slick of red lipstick and layers of dark eyeliner.

With about an hour to spare before her guests are due to arrive, Leigh decides it's the perfect time to follow through on a promise she made to Drew. She logs into the shared inbox of the advice column she co-manages with two other writers at Basically News. Leigh scrolls through the submissions, Drew’s words playing on repeat in her head. He had a point. Maybe people don't always need the right answers—answers she hardly uses herself. Perhaps what they really need is someone to affirm what they're already feeling, to say it's okay to follow their gut, to be themselves.

She reads an interesting entry from one EspressoEyes:

“Do you think it's too much for me to give a puppy to this woman I like? I'm not even sure she likes me back (or like me in general 😣), but it's her birthday, and I feel like a puppy could be exactly what she needs at this moment.”

Leigh reads the message, a smile tugging at her lips despite herself. Personally, she muses, she'd welcome a puppy from just about anyone. But that's just her, especially with the rollercoaster of a year she's had—she's at a point where the gesture, no matter who it comes from, would be a welcome slice of joy.

Thinking it over, she starts replying, “A puppy is a big gesture—it can be an overwhelming gift for some. It might even be seen as too forward, especially in certain relationships.Yet, a gift is a gift. Sometimes, you need to just go for it, without apologies. If her feelings don't align, she'll let you know. She has to, because giving a puppy is essentially a love declaration, in case you hadn't realized. And who knows? She might feel the same about you. Just make sure she's actually up for the responsibility of a pet. They're for life, not just for birthdays.”

She signs off with her pen name—Gigi Herrel—a clever anagram of her name as it would have been had she taken Matt's last name in marriage: Leigh Greer. Though it never quite felt like her own. She only used it when she came back to Basically News in obeisance to his passing. Drew has granted her the autonomy to publish her responses without his oversight (“Just make sure your grammar is perfect,” he said), so Leigh doesn’t think twice before publishing her response.

Leigh moves on to browse through other submissions, this time, on those related to marriage and loss—the very subjects she promised Drew she would tackle. She’s been in those shoes, still feels like she's wearing them. With a deep breath, she clicks on one and dives right into it. Her first attempt at a response feels inadequate, prompting her to hit delete and start anew. This process repeats itself, one draft after another, until she has five versions sitting in front of her, none of which feel right. With a huff, she deletes them all.

Just then the doorbell rings, pulling her out of her advice-column vortex. Leigh glances around, momentarily disoriented. It takes her a moment to recall that there's a party happening downstairs, and she's meant to be enjoying herself.

She’s halfway down the stairs when Jules's eyes land on her. Leigh freezes, as if she’s been caught red-handed. “I…couldn’t find the coupon for borrowing your clothes.”

Jules just smirks and arches an eyebrow, taking in Leigh in her dress. “Oh please, as if I ever keep track. Besides, that was just gathering dust after my ‘slutty Halloween phase’ as you so lovingly called it.”

“Cool! Perfect!” Leigh says, ignoring the backhanded comment. Her focus immediately turns to the front door as another guest arrives. “Hey, Dad!” she calls out.

Leigh’s dad walks in with his partner, and she greets them with a warmth that's been rare these days. He hands her a large, beautifully wrapped box. Leigh grasps the gift with both hands, shaking it gently, much like a child on Christmas morning. She’s thanking them when an old friend from high school she hasn’t seen in forever walks through the door, a bottle of wine in hand. Her mom swoops in like a hawk, reminding everyone it's a dry party in support of Jules's sobriety, and the wine is swiftly traded for a mocktail.

For the next hour, the house fills up. Leigh finds herself out back, tending to snacks, when a small line of people forms to chat with her. They each ask if she’s doing okay, their condolences tucked neatly between cheerful birthday wishes. Leigh’s smiling, but it's so fake even she is not buying it, mentally blacklisting half of these people for next time.

Just when the parade of condolence callers is beginning to fray her patience, one of her actual favorite humans finally shows up, saving her mood from souring completely. Drew looks striking in a simple black polo shirt, so much so that it reminds Leigh of the time Matt got all jealous over him, until Leigh let him in on the secret that he plays for the other team.

He passes her a little envelope, his birthday offering—a gift card. Leigh’s barely expressed her thanks over the simple present when he jumps right into feedback on her latest advice column.

“Read your puppy counsel on my way here. It felt a bit... casual, don’t you think?”

Leigh smirks up at him, arms crossed, the gift card crinkling between her forearms. “Just say it's terrible advice if that's what you mean.”

Drew purses his lips before relenting. “Fine. It was terrible advice.”

“Expect more of that if I tackle the stuff I’ve been avoiding. Still think it’s a good idea?” Leigh says, nodding like it’s exactly what she wants to hear. Drew lets out a sigh, swiftly steering the conversation away before their playful banter escalates into a disagreement. With Leigh, he knows all too well that the edge of an argument is always closer than it seems.

“Anyway, happy birthday, again,” he says, trying to lighten the mood again. “Ryan's tied up with work stuff, totally wiped, but he did wish you a happy birthday.”

Leigh’s face hardens slightly at the mention of Ryan. She’s been harboring this nagging thought that Ryan dislikes her, a suspicion fueled by a criticism she once shared with Drew in confidence, suspecting Drew might have passed it along. Drew, seeing her expression change, doesn’t rush to correct her assumption.

“He hates me,” Leigh concludes before Drew can even get a word out.

“He doesn’t—”

“What I don’t understand is why you couldn’t have kept it between us?” she demands, feeling betrayed.

“Because Ryan’s my person. I tell him everything. That’s how being in a marriage works,” he says, but the moment he sees Leigh's face fall, he wishes he could retract those words.

Leigh bristles, her voice rising, “I know how being married works!”

She's livid, because that should go without saying. How dare he imply that she no longer knows, now that she's only half of a whole—her best friend, of all people.

Drew exhales coolly, as if trying to douse the proverbial fire between them. “Why does it seem like we're always either fighting or about to fight?” he wonders aloud.

Leigh’s anger softens into something more reflective, and she sighs, the fight draining out of her. “I don’t mean to...” She trails off, searching for the right words. “It’s like I’m always ready for a battle. I don’t know why. It’s like I’m expecting it, waiting for it, at the end of every day.”

Drew lets the moment breathe, waiting for both of them to deflate completely before tacitly reaching out behind Leigh for a snack. “These are great, by the way,” he says between bites, acting like they hadn’t just been at each other's throats.

Leigh tries to match Drew’s candidness, but inside, she’s reeling. It bothers her, this pattern they’ve fallen into—her temper flaring up, followed by a quick brush-off, as if these outbursts are merely now a part of who she is. She hates that she’s become predictable in her volatility, that her explosions are met with a shrug and a wait-out-the-clock mentality from those around her. She’s tired of it, tired of being seen as a ticking time bomb, her anger and hurt dismissed as just Leigh being Leigh, waiting for the reset button to be hit so the countdown can start all over again.

But it's her birthday, and she's brought these people together on a Tuesday night for fun. She didn't gather everyone just to tell them, once and for all, that they need to stop acting as if her husband just died.

So, she goes with the flow, laughing when it's her cue, even though deep down, she feels more alone in the crowd than ever.

With the absence of alcohol, the party winds down by 11 PM. Guests begin trickling out as early as 10, and by the time Leigh is bidding farewell to the last attendee, she's already donned an apron, ready to take on the mountain of dishes left behind.

Which is to say, showing up right now pretty much means you've missed the whole party.

Pulling up in front of Leigh's house, the night already deep into its quiet hours, you’re running on the adrenaline of the day's emergencies. Two cases back-to-back at the clinic, one of them diving straight into surgery, left you no choice but to push everything else to the side. Suzie, who was meant to join you as your plus one, ends up stuck back at work, tending to a recovering St. Bernard, so it's just you and the sleeping puppy on your lap now. For her sacrifice, you promise to take her out to a nice lunch one of these days.

The puppy starts wagging its tail in its sleep, and you look down with a smile at the little dreamer. The decision to give Leigh the puppy wasn't made lightly. You've been turning the idea in your mind for a while now. Initially, you didn't even realize her birthday was coming up, and the invitation to her party caught you off guard, especially considering the somewhat unresolved way things were left between you two weeks ago. The timing of her birthday, your rocky history, it all made you second-guess whether a puppy was a good idea. In search of a voice outside your own head, you turned to a favorite advice column you often read in your spare time. To your surprise, your submission was picked up by one of the columnists, and the response you got wasn't just advice; it was the push you needed. You were lucky to be able to catch their answer, just before you got home to change for Leigh’s birthday party.

Trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach, you give yourself a quick once-over in the rearview mirror and apply a fresh swipe of nude-colored lipstick. With one last look, you carefully step out of the car, the sleeping puppy nestled securely in your arms. The moment you move, it stirs, burrowing deeper into your armpit, seeking refuge from the light of the street lamps.

Everything's too quiet as you walk up to Leigh's house. You anticipated some noise, music or chatter—anything to indicate the party was in full swing. But there are none. Could you have missed the party? Or worse, did Leigh get the date wrong on her invite? Hesitantly, you press the doorbell, instantly regretting it, thinking you might be waking up the whole house.

Just as you're about to bail, the door swings open and it's Jules.

“Y/N!” Jules nearly trips over herself getting to you, eyes wide when she spots the furball you’re holding.

“Hi Jules,” you mutter sheepishly.

“Is that a…” she squeaks out, already reaching for a cuddle before you've even nodded. Jules is all over the puppy, who seems just as happy to be the center of attention. After a while, she looks up, a bit more composed but still glowing.

“I didn’t know Leigh invited you. Too bad, you just missed the party. But you should definitely come in and say hi to Leigh,” she says. You want nothing more than to see Leigh again, even if only for a brief moment, just to accomplish what you came here for and perhaps wish her a happy birthday. But with the party over and you potentially being the only guest, it feels like walking into a situation you don’t think you’re prepared enough for.

Then, as the puppy licks Jules' face off, she pauses and looks at you funny. It clicks for her—no collar, no leash, just you and this puppy who appear no more than two months old.

“Oh my gosh, is this for Leigh?” Jules gasps.

You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I-If she wants him.”

Jules looks at you, then at the puppy, her smile blinding. “Well, I want him. But if she doesn’t, I’ll be more than happy to be his mommy.”

You laugh at her enthusiasm. Still feeling skittish, you ask, “Do you think it’s an appropriate gift for Leigh?”

“You're a vet. It's kind of on-brand for you,” Jules quips.

You laugh again. “Really?” you ask, kind of hoping for a more solid reassurance.

Jules considers it for a second, before saying, “I can at least assure you it’s not unwanted.”

Good enough, you think. Jules hands you back the puppy and then says, “She’s in the kitchen. Look, she’s not exactly in a good mood, but I think you should go for it anyway.”

That’s two people egging you to go ahead with your surprise. It must be a sign from the universe. You make up your mind for the final time. “Thanks, Jules,” you say.

“Anytime.”

You tread lightly, making sure your footsteps don’t give you away as you approach the kitchen. Leigh is at the sink, doing the dishes, clad in a black dress that skims her thighs, her feet bare against the cool kitchen tiles. Her shoulders are slumped, her movements laconic, as if her body is there, but her mind is miles elsewhere. The expanse of skin revealed by her hair tied up in a high ponytail captivates you, holding you back from announcing your presence. You allow yourself a moment to take her in, thinking this might be the only chance you get to really look at her like this.

You’re about to say “Hi”, when Leigh whirls around, startling you both. Leigh, not expecting anyone to be there, loses her grip on the plate she's holding, and it smashes loudly against the floor.

“Jesus!” Leigh’s scream summons Jules and her mom into the kitchen. Meanwhile, you are trying to do damage control—holding the puppy with one hand and attempting to gather the ceramic shards with the other as Leigh continues to stare at you in shock.

Amy, wrapped in her robe, looks from the mess on the floor to you and then to Leigh. “What’s going on here?”

Jules is unfazed, simply watches the entire scene from a corner of the room, smirking.

Your cheeks flush with shame, and you find yourself grateful to be still seated on the floor, your back turned away from Leigh's family.

“I’m so—” you start, but Leigh cuts you off.

“Okay, everyone just...calm down," Leigh says. She kneels down beside you, her hands joining yours in cleaning up the broken pieces.

“I'm heading to bed,” Jules says and then winks at you. “Happy to see you, Y/N!”

Amy wraps her robe more snugly around herself, then with a small, puzzled shake of her head, says, “Well, good night everyone. And happy birthday again, sweetheart,” before she walks down the hall and out of sight. Leigh gets to her feet, a slight nod of appreciation directed your way as she holds open a trash bag for you to deposit the ceramic shards. That’s when the puppy finally catches her attention.

“And who's this little guy?” she asks, a smile starting to play at the corners of her mouth.

You clear your throat. “Uh, yeah. He’s yours if you want him. Don’t worry about refusing, there’s someone lined up to take him in case you’re not—”

But Leigh’s already gently taking the puppy from your arms, instantly cradling and bouncing him as though he’s a tiny human baby. It’s a sight both funny and utterly endearing, and you can’t help but let out a soft chuckle, feeling your heart grow a size or two.

“Who wouldn't want him? He's perfect,” Leigh says, her eyes not leaving him as he nestles comfortably in her arms. Hearing those words, you feel a wave of relief wash over you. She doesn't find it odd; she's already falling for him.

“Happy birthday,” you tell her, and when she looks at you, her smile is so bright it could light up the whole night. Right there is everything you hoped for. All you really wanted was to see her happy.

“Thank you so much,” she murmurs, clutching the puppy tighter to her chest. Then, cocking her head to the side, she inquires, “What's his name?”

The grin on your lips can’t be helped, and you’re hoping she wouldn’t see just how much she’s having an effect on you. “I haven’t named him yet. He was always meant to be yours, Leigh,” you say.

Her smile just gets bigger as she gazes down at the little furball in her arms, and you think this is exactly how things were supposed to go down. It’s one of those rare moments where reality lines up perfectly with expectation.

“I think I’ll call him Logan.”

You and Leigh retire to the living room after she kindly offers to make you decaf. As you settle onto opposite ends of the couch, tucking your feet under you, Logan instinctively takes shelter in Leigh's lap, as if he already knows he belongs there.

“So…Why Logan?” you ask, after making a mental note of how Leigh makes her coffee: one cream, two sugars.

“Well,” Leigh says, her fingers gently stroking Logan’s deep chocolate fur, “he just looks like a little wolverine, doesn’t he? With that color and those defiant little eyes.”

The dots connect in a funny, unexpected sort of way. Leigh and comic books don't seem like the most likely pair.

“Ah, like the X-Men character. I didn’t know you were a comic book fan,” you say.

She laughs, a sound that’s light and free of any shadows. “Oh, I wasn’t. Not really. It was all Matt. He had this massive collection, and he was pretty obsessed. I guess some of it rubbed off on me after all.” The mention of Matt doesn’t bring clouds into her eyes like you expected. She talks about him like she’s looking at something distant but dear.

“Thought you were bailing on me tonight,” Leigh , almost casual but there’s this undercurrent, like she’s really saying she’s glad you didn’t.

“I’m sorry. I got stuck at the clinic longer than expected.” Leaving her waiting, especially today, was never part of the plan. Your work as a vet often means unpredictable hours, but you hadn't expected it to stretch so far into the evening.

“It’s okay, you didn’t miss much.”

Her casual dismissal makes you wonder, but not wanting to pry too much, you shift slightly, asking, “So, how did it go? Did you enjoy yourself at least?”

Leigh simply smiles and shrugs, an action that speaks volumes without giving much away. “This,” she nods down at Logan, “getting him from you, feels more like my birthday than anything else today.”

The conversation that follows is easy, skipping over the day-to-day stuff—nothing deep, but you're both there—really there—and it's nice. It feels like a fresh start, and you're deeply thankful for the second chance she's offering you. You promise yourself you won't mess it up this time.

But just as you’re both delving into more personal topics, someone rings the doorbell. Logan perks up, his head tilted, ears alert. Leigh gives you a look, as if saying she's not expecting anyone else to show up this late at night. She puts the puppy down on the floor and when she opens the door, it’s Danny, looking sorry for himself. He’s holding a bouquet of roses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. It seems as though he has the whole evening planned out in his head—apologize, crack open the wine, and maybe be invited to Leigh’s bedroom afterwards.

Danny’s eyes find you and his face falls a bit. He wasn’t expecting company, certainly not you. “Leigh, can we talk?” he asks, then looks pointedly at you. “Alone?”

Leigh looks torn for a moment, glancing your way as if she's not ready to let you out of her sight. She insists it'll just be a minute, but you can read the room. This is something they need to sort out without you playing third wheel.

“It’s all good, I'll head out,” you tell her though you're staring Danny down, making sure he knows it’s not because of him that you’re leaving. Leigh either misses the whole glare-off or decides to stay out of it. Logan tries to follow you as you make for the door. It’s hard leaving him behind, but you know he’ll be happy to have found his forever home. You kneel down, giving Logan a soft kiss on the head, promising him you’ll be back soon. And then you turn to Leigh, a question at the tip of your tongue but she already knows what you’re going to ask.

“You can see Logan anytime,” she says with a faint smile. “I might need your help with him sooner than you think.”

The moment you close the door behind you, Leigh's jaw sets in a firm line, bracing herself to confront Danny. Her main priority is to get Logan settled, so she decides that forgiving Danny might be the quickest way to send him on his way. But Danny’s focus now isn’t on apologies or making it up to her. He’s fixated on Logan, his brows knitting together in confusion and, curiously, a bit of annoyance.

“Who gave you that?” he asks Leigh as if he’s just referring to an inanimate object lying around the house. He sounds like he's almost accusing her of something, and Leigh's baffled.

“A friend gave him to me,” she says, nodding towards the door you've just walked out of. Danny's face twists up in an instant, like a storm cloud bursting. “A friend,” he repeats, and the way he says it, it’s clear he’s not just asking. He’s fuming with jealousy, and Leigh can’t wrap her head around why.

A gift is just a gift, right? Why would…

Oh.

Earlier, while she was reviewing submissions for the advice column, someone asked if giving a puppy as a birthday gift to someone they're interested in would be a good idea. She remembers how she happily encouraged them, telling them to go for it.

At this realization, Danny, the puppy, and everything else slide to the back burner. The only thing occupying her mind now is the deep, dark brown hue of your eyes, like rich espresso.

EspressoEyes. That's how the person behind the submission signed off. It's like a lightbulb moment, but softer—like waking up slow.

It's you.

Oh.

#unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x female reader #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss au #leigh shaw x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility

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loveluvrs · 12 days

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third time's the charm l oscar piastri x reader

request/summary – Hellooo!! Would you be able to write an oscar piastri blurb with little examples of the reader showing him off and him getting all flustered? For example, drunk in a club with her friends / to make him feel more confident / ect..? 🫶

author's notes – idk if this was what anon was thinking of but this is what i imagined 😭

I walked into the paddock, hand in hand with Oscar. I was talking about the newest episode of the series I had been binge watching. Oscar, as usual, had settled into listening to me attentively, as I yapped on relentlessly without an end in sight.

I stopped when I bump into Max’s mum and sister. His family was like a second family to me, and I hadn’t gotten a chance to see them yet since Oscar and I started dating.

“Oh, hi! I’ve missed you guys so much. This is Oscar, you guys already know he’s my boyfriend,” I say excitedly as he reaches his hand out to greet them. “He loves the curry I make just like you guys do. Sometimes I think he may like it even more. I mean, he always begs me to make it whenever he’s visiting home,” I ramble on excitedly.

“Ooookay, we should get going now. Nice to meet you,” Oscar says before dragging me along with him to Mclaren garage. “What happened? I was talking,” I ask with a pout.

He laughs as he rolls his eyes playfully. “Yeah, I know, babe. You never stop talking, do you?” he says playfully, “you should remember to breathe every once in a while.”

“Ha ha. Very funny. I wasn’t even talking that much! I was just introducing them to you and telling them how much I love you!” I say defensively with a confused look in my eyes.

“Love, you were telling them I beg for your cooking, that’s embarrassing!” Oscar says with a slight laugh. It’s only now I stop and notice that he’s turned slightly red, making me giggle. Oscar gives me an unamused look before saying, “don’t laugh at me like that, you do this every time!”

“I’m sorry,” I say with a giggle, “you know I only do it because I love you. I just want people to know how great you are, promise!” Oscar opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted when some of his team members approach him to talk to him about the upcoming race weekend. “We’re going to talk about this later,” Oscar says softly as he points a finger at me playfully.

——

I screamed as Oscar won the sprint race in Qatar, and I immediately rushed over to him after the race, peppering him with kisses all over his face. “I’m so so proud of you, oh my god!” I say excitedly. Oscar’s face was already red from the heat, and it somehow turned even redder when he saw the cameras approach us. He whined slightly as he burrowed his face into my neck. “Baby, don’t embarrass me,” he mumbles quietly in a shy voice.

“My boyfriend just won a sprint race in his rookie season in F1, of course I’m gonna show you off and embarrass you. Don’t expect anything less from me,” I tease as I give him one last kiss before sending him off.

When Oscar returns to our hotel room that night, I’m already half asleep. He spends a bit of time on his phone while in my arms, trying to keep up with everyone’s messages. He stops when he sees an Instagram post from me, his embarrassed and red face that was caught on the cameras now plastered all over this post. “Did you really have to post that?” He asks me playfully.

“I absolutely did. You’re amazing, and you’re mine. Two things every person should know,” I say playfully, earning a playful eye roll from him. “But I look awful, babe!” He protests, zooming in on himself in the photo. I stifle a laugh. “Thousands of people would disagree, actually. Plus, you don’t look awful, you look happy!” I say softly.

He gives me an unamused look. “What if I don’t want to look happy?”

I giggle. “Then you are one sick weirdo, Oscar Piastri,” I tease with a soft kiss to his lips.

——

It’s Oscar’s birthday today, and I have been meticulously planning out every single detail for the past few weeks, including a party with some of his closest friends after qualifying session that day. Despite my protests, Zak also insisted inviting some sponsors to the event and key investors of Mclaren, to act as an opportunity for networking. I reluctantly agreed, although I knew Oscar wouldn’t like it.

As I thought, Oscar seemed a bit overwhelmed by the amount of people there. He was whisked away to a new person every two minutes, and it was all too much for him to handle. He eventually sat down next to me outside with a loud sigh, leaning his head on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to invite this many people, but Zak said this and that. And you know how he is, he wouldn’t have stopped until I said yes,” I say with a frown as I clearly notice how he isn’t having the best of times at this party. Instead, he just smiles, leaning in to give me a soft kiss. He stands up again, holding his hand out towards me. “I don’t care. Just be by my side while I’m being interrogated?” He asks playfully. I giggle, and with a nod I take his hand, our fingers intertwining.

We soon see one of my old friends that I knew from RedBull, and I introduce Oscar formally to her. As always, I begin to praise Oscar as a driver and as a person. And as always, he gets incredibly red. This time, however, I catch myself before it gets too bad, cutting myself off. When my friend walks away, Oscar has a frown on his face.

“Why’d you stop? You usually go on for longer,” he asks softly. I shrug. “You always get embarrassed by it, so I just realized and quit while I was ahead,” I say quietly in a kind of embarrassed tone that he even noticed I cut myself off.

Oscar shakes his head. “Oh come on, babe. Yes, I do get extremely embarrassed by it. But rambling on about me is so you, and I never want you to stop, you hear me? If I can’t praise myself then I need someone who will,” he says with a playful smile.

“Promise? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything,” I say softly.

“No no no, absolutely not. You could never make me uncomfortable, ever. And you rambling on and showing me off is embarrassing, yes, but I love you for it. I promise,” he says softly.

“Well, if you insist… then I guess I could squeeze in a few rambles here and there..” I say playfully with a giggle.

#oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagines #oscar piastri oneshot #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

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oddinary4bts · 7 months

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When the End Comes | ch 4 (jjk)

☆summary: Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook?

☆pairing: photographer!Jungkook x lawyer!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, there is mature content in every chapter)

☆genre: breakup!au, slice of life!au, angst with a big A, smut

☆warnings: fear of getting stood up, alcohol, pet names, curses, Jungkook's scars, angst, stubborn Jungkook, pessimism, depressive episode, cliffhanger at the end I'm sorry, explicit content: jerking off, oral sex (male receiving), Jungkook taking pictures of them during (I apologize, I have sinned), balls sucking/fondling, pain kink (Jungkook), deep throating, mouth fucking, unprotected sex, hickey, clit play, degradation, fingering, cum play (ish?)

☆word count: 14.3k

☆series masterpost

☆a/n: Rereading each chapter to edit is a challenge bc I just be sobbing the whole time :') I hope you enjoy this one, though it does really hurt oop

☆a/n pt2: Thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing this, you are the best <3 and thank you to @jessikahathaway for supporting me with this project, you are amazinnng

☆Read The Forgotten Spaces here, the prequel to When the End Comes! It does not need to be read to understand When the End Comes, but I think it still should be read first to have a better understanding of the characters in general!

☆Add yourself to the taglist here (if you were on the taglist for The Forgotten Spaces, you're already on the taglist for When the End Comes!)

☆☆☆☆☆

But love never leaves a heart, where it found it, found it You found it Someday, I'll fall into you That's where I'll be now when the end comes

When the End Comes, Andrew Belle

☆☆☆☆☆

Friday, September 8th

You clutch the gift bag in your hand. It feels strange to be meeting Jungkook again, after last weekend. And even after last weekend, you’re not sure where you’re standing.

Did he spend his whole week thinking about you the way that you were thinking about him?

You texted a little, over the week. Each time a notification from him popped up on your phone, you felt like you’d gone back in time. Like maybe, maybe you took a time machine to a past of better days last weekend. It’s bittersweet in a way, because you feel like there is still so much left unsaid between you and him.

But he’s willing to try. Even if you broke him, even if you’ve been wondering if there’s anything salvageable after all, he’s willing to try. Willing to meet you at a Korean barbecue restaurant halfway between his place and yours.

You check the time, anxiety flooding your veins. He’s running late, though he texted you to tell you he was almost there. A part of you wonders if he’s going to stand you up – you think you’d deserve it. Because you’re not sure you deserve this chance, yet you don’t want to lose it, don’t want to let it go.

You look down at the bag. You bought the gift on a whim this week, and you have no idea if he’ll still want it. It’s a lens he was looking to buy months ago, before he left for Paris, and there’s a high chance that he’ll have bought it for himself since then…

You just couldn’t think about anything other than that to gift him. Even though his work was your demise, you know Jungkook loves photography. Always will, no matter where you two will end up. And since it was his birthday last weekend – before you’d reconnected – you thought why not? Why not get a gift and show him that you still care, that you remember?

Because you’d never forget, when it comes to him. You think, if you had dementia, he’d be the last thing you’d lose, if at all.

You worry at your lip, glancing around. Luckily enough for you, there is a bench outside of the restaurant, though you can only sit on a corner of it as the rest is still wet from the rain earlier. It was raining when you left work, but it fortunately stopped as you were getting ready for the date.

You sigh, looking down at your phone again. Twenty minutes late seems like a long time, considering that Jungkook’s not one to be late usually. A sense of dread takes ahold of your heart, and you already feel tears forming in your eyes.

You were foolish, stupid. Idiotic, if you thought there was a way things could be set right.

You get up, looking towards the door of the restaurant. A couple are waiting in the hall, arms around each other as they hug with not a care in the world. It aches deeply, makes you crave the physical intimacy last Saturday held and you gulp as you swallow around the lump in your throat.

Still you stay rooted in your spot. There’s a light tremor that starts taking a hold of you, and you regret not putting a jacket on even though it isn’t remotely freezing today. Your eyes fall to the gift bag, and you think about May. About the moment you’d let him go – has he gotten too far for you to reach him now?

A tear wins. Or perhaps it’s the gravity, growing ten times stronger as your heart breaks again. As the hope gets lost to you, replaced by that same deep sorrow you’ve become accustomed to. You sigh, the breath of air trembling on the way out.

And then you almost let out a scream as someone touches your arm.

Jungkook startles just as much as you, taking a step back, his big, doe eyes widening even more as he meets your gaze. Your mouth remains open, yet no words come out. You just take him in, take his appearance in – his piercings, the beanie he’s wearing, his flushed cheeks. He looks like he was running, and you think maybe he was.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you.

At that your eyes drop to the bright pink bouquet of flowers he’s holding, and something inside of you heals, as if you’ve found a cure to the disease.

“Oh, Jungkook,” you let out. You meet his gaze again. “You didn’t have to.”

He pulls at his piercings, shrugging sheepishly. “I wanted to.”

It’s warm. Whatever is blossoming in your chest is warm, a stark contrast to the winter you’ve been stuck in since the night you lost him.

“Thank you,” you murmur, and you blink away the tears in your eyes.

You freeze when he wipes the one that’s already rolled on your cheek, frowning slightly at the sight.

“The florist I wanted to go to first was closed,” he says as an explanation. “I had to run around to find another one.”

You offer him a small smile, and his features immediately smooth out into a soft expression too.

“I was scared you were…” you trail off, wetting your lips as you refuse to voice your fear.

Refuse to admit you didn’t have faith in him.

“I thought you would,” he answers carefully. “Hence why I ran.”

You nod. “I…” You look down at the gift bag, holding it up. “I got you a birthday gift.”

His smile is teary when you look at it next, and you take a moment to delve into the depths of his gaze. There’s a small twinkle there, though it is faint, barely even noticeable. If you didn’t know him like the sun knows the moon, you wouldn’t recognize it.

He’s hopeful. It’s strange – there was no hope in Jungkook’s gaze last weekend. Or there had been, for a fraction of a moment, until it had been blown away by the wind. You can only hope that this time it will hold on strong.

“You didn’t have to,” he says, though the curve of his pink lips tells you he appreciates the thought.

He grabs the gift bag, not looking through it right away. Instead, he hands you the flowers, and you delicately take them, bringing them close to your nose so that you can inhale the fragrance. Your eyelids flutter shut, and a content smile moves on your lips.

“Thank you,” you murmur as you meet his gaze again. “And…” You motion towards the gift. “You deserved it. I think you’ll like it.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence, as Jungkook looks down at the bag. He offers you a tight-lipped smile, and you cock an eyebrow.

“What?” he lets out.

“Aren’t you going to…” you vaguely answer. “Open it?”

“Oh, now?” He chuckles awkwardly, glancing around before pointing towards the restaurant. “Shouldn’t we go in to give our names?”

He’s got a point. Especially considering that it’s a Friday evening. So you do just that, giving your phone number to the hostess as she tells you there will be a thirty minutes wait. You and Jungkook move back outside after that, and he guides you towards his car, a few streets down.

“How was work this week?” he asks on the way.

“Better,” you admit, remembering how you’d told him that you didn’t like the new department in which you worked.

And it’s true – it has been better. Maybe because the excitement of receiving texts from him through the days made it easier to handle. Or maybe it’s because you haven’t been so damned cold since last weekend. All in all, work has been easier, even if it isn’t as interesting as it used to be.

“I’m glad,” he says, offering you a smile.

Silence surrounds the two of you, only interrupted by a car honking in the street. You startle a little, and Jungkook chuckles.

You’re struck. His chuckles have healing properties, you’re convinced of it. They spark hope into you, so bright you think you’ll be blinded, retina forever burned. Yet your eyes don’t lose focus on him, even as his lips return to a neutral expression.

“What about you?” you ask as your heart picks up in your chest. “What were you up to this week?”

A small crease appears between his brows, but it disappears so quickly you think you might have imagined it. “I’ve been going to the gym,” he answers. “And looking around for some jobs.”

His last sentence turns the hope into a firework show inside of you. “Yeah? Any luck so far?”

You reach his car, and as he always does, he opens the door for you. You blush, something you haven’t really done with Jungkook in forever, and you’re struck thinking that this feels new.

Perhaps this will be a new chapter in your relationship with Jeon Jungkook after all.

“Thank you,” you mutter as your cheeks burn. You sit in, and he closes the door before moving around the car to get in. You watch him do so, and he sits next to you, turning the car on just long enough so that you can roll the windows down.

“Now,” he lets out, eyeing the bag. “What’s this?”

For some reason, it makes you chuckle, and he shoots you a dumb smile that makes you think you’ve delved right into the heat of summer, warmth spreading through you. It erases the winter, replaces it with blooming flowers and bright sun rays, golden sunsets and the feeling of a soft breeze threading through your hair.

Needless to say, you want to cling to it before winter comes again.

“Open and you’ll see,” you answer, your heart racing as you glance at the bag, before going back to his smile.

He nods, and he opens the bag, taking out the paper first. Your heartbeat increases tenfold because, what if he doesn’t like it?

What if he takes it as an affront that you’ve given him something photography related?

But then he sees it. Sees the lens you bought for him, and his features turn somber, but not in a bad way. They settle into a calm expression, with a softer smile that barely even tugs at the corners of his lips. He takes a deep breath, and then looks towards you again.

Teary eyes find yours, and you think maybe this is it. Maybe this is where the end will find you. Lost in the swirling depth of his gaze, in the forgotten space of you and him.

He whispers your name, emotion making it heavier than the whole world. You nod once, as no sentences take shape in your mind to reply to him. You’re not sure you have to say something – he sees in your eyes the emotions you can’t quite voice.

“You really didn’t have to,” he adds, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob as he gulps. “Fuck.”

He looks down at the lens, takes it out of the bag so that he can examine it thoroughly. You observe him as he does so, as if you’re watching a show. And you think, maybe he is a show – a movie meant for you to admire on and on until you go old and blindness seeps into your gaze.

“I wanted to,” you reply.

He shoots you a quick look, just as teary as the initial one. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

And then he laughs, a small vulnerable laugh that has you blinking back the wetness building up on your waterline. You echo it with one of yours, though it comes unexpectedly to you. But then again, you reckon you share the same feelings.

You always have, haven’t you? Your soul is in sync with his, has always been, no matter if distance put an end to the story of you and him. Or tried to, because he’s here today.

So are you, and if he allows it, you’ll never leave again.

“I’ve wanted this lens in forever,” he says, voice small as he turns it in his hands, looking at it in every possible angle. “You…” he trails off, meets your gaze and smiles again. “You remembered.”

You nod. “How could I forget?” You worry at your lips, shy away from his gaze to watch your wriggling fingers in your lap. “There isn’t a day I didn’t think of you.”

The revelation seems out of place, in a parked car on the side of a busy street. Yet it comes naturally to you, and meets him just as naturally. Because he nods, and then reaches for you. Grabs your jaw, gently, so that he can turn your head towards him. There’s a moment when you think the whole world holds his breath, and then he leans forward, brushes a soft kiss on your lips.

“I missed you,” he admits as he pulls away, letting go of your jaw reluctantly.

A tear slips on your cheek, and you quickly dry it. “I missed you too.”

And though the moment is heavy with emotion, you don’t want to run away from it. When you were younger, you would have fled like a deer hearing a branch crack in the woods. But today, today you want the weight of this emotion to rest upon you, like a weighted blanket that reminds you you’re alive.

The emotion lingers, past this moment and into the next. As you get the text that a table is ready for you and him, and you move back to the Korean restaurant. As you sit in front of him, watch him smile and laugh in time with you at the stupid jokes that you make.

You and him make more sense than you realized. Or maybe you forgot. Maybe the distance made you forget, but right now you think you know he’ll always be the one. And if you lose him again, he’ll be the one that got away, and you’ll search for him through every connection with temporary people.

Because there can’t be permanent people after him. He’s permanently inked into your heart, carved into your bones.

“How has your family been?” he asks when there’s a lull in the conversation.

You offer him a tight-lipped smile, though you know he means your father, Isabel and Louis.

You know he’d never talk about your mother as part of your family.

“They’ve been great,” you answer. “Dad’s been looking to retire, or at least to have a lesser charge at work.”

Jungkook furrows his brows, but says nothing as he puts some meat on the grill between you and him. You observe him as he does so, wincing when flames erupt and he pulls his hand away – quickly enough, thankfully.

“How old is he again?” Jungkook asks after that, meeting your gaze again.

“Fifty-nine,” you reply. “But I don’t think it’s about his age. He just wants to spend more time with Louis.”

The softness that takes over his doe eyes makes you want to curl up in him, against him. Makes you want to listen to his beating heart until the day that it ceases, decades away from now. It’s a strong feeling, and you’re forced to blink away tears again.

“Don’t cry,” Jungkook gently says, and he reaches to pat your cheek.

It makes you laugh. Of course it does, and he offers you a dumb smile again. For the first time that night, you notice that yes, it does reach his eyes. The smile lights up his gaze, though there’s wariness, etched in the lines of his face.

It’s not that you missed it before. Maybe you just didn’t want to see it. But right in this instant, it’s all you can see, and it makes his smile fall until his eyes follow, moving to the grill. He turns the meat as you busy yourself with eating japchae.

And you don’t like this silence. You don’t like the ache that it carries, so you force yourself to try. To try and fight for him and prove that, after everything, he really is where the end will be, when it comes for you.

“What about your family?” you ask, throwing him a lifeline in the storm you’re sure he’s been plagued with too.

“They’ve been great,” he answers. “My brother’s wife is pregnant again.”

For a moment you forget about the torment between you and him as your mind zeroes in on the fact. “That’s amazing!” you let out, and your smile comes easily. “They must be so happy.”

Jungkook looks at your smile, taking a deep breath. It seems he takes a decision then, because his lips curve up, and some of the wariness fades away. He looks softer like this, younger, and your heart shines under his light.

“It really is,” he says. “I was thinking on going to Korea to see the baby when Yuri gives birth.”

In another world, you would have said you’ll go with him, but right now you don’t think you can. So, instead, you reply, “That’s a good idea. I’m sure your family will be happy to see you.”

He nods, and then he puts some meat in your bowl, taking the two other stripes for himself. You mindlessly pick one of the pieces up, mixing it in ssamjang before eating it. You wince as you burn your tongue a little, and quickly eat the meat so that you can take a long gulp of water.

Jungkook must have expected you to burn yourself, because he laughs at your expense as he refills your glass. “You good?”

You nod. “Sorry, just burned myself.”

“Don’t apologize.”

So you don’t. For the rest of the evening, you try not to apologize. And you think you succeed – you both speak as if distance wasn’t a thing between you. As if time hasn’t come to pass between you too – as if you’ve never been apart. As if, seven years ago, the stars told the truth as they sparkled in the July night sky.

You finish eating while chatting like this, while sharing thoughts about movies you’ve seen. As he tells you about working out, about Bam and the songs he’s been listening to. He drinks a beer as you speak, and you once again take a moment to admire him.

You’d never admit it, but the beanie makes him look good. Comfortable and soft – as does the jean jacket, you reckon. But then again you know Jungkook would look good in anything, one of the advantages of him being gifted with pretty privilege.

And when he clinks his glass with yours, claiming you have to finish drinking even though you’ve only been drinking water, you still laugh with him, still down your glass as he chugs the beer. And you wonder, how long will it take to erase the distance?

Will it take more than this moment in time, to undo the distance and rebuild the closeness?

And you think, maybe it just needs now. Because as you walk out, bellies full and minds buzzing with a slight tinge of alcohol, you accept Jungkook’s extended hand. You let him guide you to his car, even though yours is parked on the other side of the restaurant. He opens the door for you again, but you hesitate for a moment.

Long enough to step closer to him instead, and pull him down so you can peck his lips. He looks surprised, and his features fall serious as you share a long look.

“Can I come over tonight?” you whisper.

He nods. “I thought it was a given.”

Of course he would. And you’re not even mad that he would. You’re rather relieved, and you can’t help yourself. You can’t help pulling him down in a more heated kiss, even though you hate public displays of affection. There are just words your lips can’t say any other way than this, and he gets it. He’ll always get you. He always will, and he kisses you with the same intensity, one hand cupping your cheek gently while the other presses on the small of your back, resting flat as he pulls you in. You hold his delicate waist, sighing in the kiss as your thumbs draw idle lines on his sides.

Jungkook pulls away to press a kiss on your forehead, lingering there for a small eternity that leads to you wrapping your arms around his waist. He lets you do it, and you wonder if his soul has found yours. You hope it has, for there are things your soul can say even better than your mouth can.

Apologies don’t mean much when they are shaped in words. But you think your soul could show him, and maybe, maybe tonight he’ll allow you to show him.

“Are you parked somewhere you can leave your car overnight?” he asks softly, lips moving against your forehead.

You nod. “I am.”

“Then let’s go home.”

*****

It comes as a surprise, when you realize Jungkook has moved in the same building as Kiko and Yoongi. Even more so as they run into you on the way in, knowing smiles on their lips as Jungkook holds your hand tight. They don’t really say a lot – both of them aren’t man and woman of words, except when they pour them into the lyrics of a song.

But Kiko does hug you. Does whisper in your ear that she wishes everything will be set right for the two of you, and when you pull away to meet Jungkook’s gaze, you think it already is. Especially as you’re clutching the flowers he got for you, and their sweet fragrance surrounds you.

And then they walk away, as they were leaving to go on a late walk, and you and Jungkook walk in the building, making your way to the elevator. Jungkook presses the call button, and then pulls you close to his chest so that he can press a kiss on the top of your head.

“Well, that was awkward,” he says.

You chuckle. “It wasn’t really.”

His grip tightens around you before he lets you go so that you can enter the elevator. He follows you in, and he intertwines your fingers as he presses on the fourth floor. As the elevator starts moving, you pull him closer, tilting your head back as you pout slightly.

“What?” he asks.

“Kiss me?”

He doesn’t need to be asked twice. He immediately dives in, and you’re surprised with the strength of the kiss. As if he’s pouring his entire soul in it, and you think maybe he is. After all, you kiss him back with all the fire in you, and it’s burning brighter than it ever has.

Unfortunately, the moment is short-lived as you reach his floor and the doors slide open. He pulls away, presses a kiss on your forehead as if he wasn’t sucking on your tongue a moment ago, and then he pulls you behind him as he walks towards his door.

It’s further down the hall, and you wait excitedly as he unlocks. Though you’re a little worried about seeing Bam again – what if he doesn’t recognize you?

Which, you reckon was a stupid thought, because the dog comes barging out, tail wagging wildly, when Jungkook manages to get the door open.

“Bamie!” you exclaim, and Jungkook carefully takes the bouquet of flowers from your hand to allow you to bend down and pet the dog.

He licks at your face, whimpering as if he thought he’d lost you. It brings tears to your eyes, and you giggle like a kid as you pet him, rubbing his short fur as he keeps running all around you.

“I think he’s happy to see you,” Jungkook deadpans, and you burst out laughing.

You look up to try and look at Jungkook, but Bam jumps in your vision, which makes you giggle again. And then, something magical happens. Something you didn’t think you’d hear again – Jungkook laughs that childish laugh of his, the one that usually only comes forth when he’s really happy.

You act by pure instinct. You stand up, wrap your arms around Jungkook’s neck. His giggle dies against your lips, but he’s quick to kiss you back as he snakes his inked arm around your back. You let out a breathy sound, and then burst into a fit of giggles as Bam jumps on you.

“I think he demands attention,” you state and Jungkook nods as you part, though he keeps his arm close to you.

“We should take him on a walk,” he says, and you notice his cheeks are flushed red. You reckon yours probably are too, but there’s something about seeing the effect that you have on him, even after everything, that makes you come undone.

“I’m so happy to be with you right now,” you murmur.

He gulps, eyes shining suddenly. “Me too.” He adds your name softly, before repeating, “Me too.”

You walk in his apartment after that, to put the flowers in a large glass of water since Jungkook doesn’t own any vase. Meanwhile, he disappears in what you assume is the bedroom, only to reappear with his camera. To your surprise, he’s already fitted the new lens on it.

It’s endearing. There’s something so incredibly endearing at the thought that your gift is loved already, that Jungkook already wants to use it. It makes a line of silver appear in your eyes, and you don’t even blink it away as Jungkook angles the camera towards you to take a picture.

“Huh,” he lets out as he looks at the picture. He adjusts some settings, and before he’s had time to take another picture of you, Bam comes up to you, jumping up. His two paws rest on your waist as you laugh, and that’s when Jungkook snaps the picture.

You glance his way to see him smiling softly, and then he nods appreciatively. “I’m going to use this lens way too much,” he comments.

It makes you laugh. “I’m glad.”

And then you’re going outside with the dog. Jungkook brings the camera, and he snaps pictures of the surroundings, of you and Bam. He even takes one of the three of you, though you reckon the angle is clearly unflattering.

It doesn’t feel like it matters. Because you’re struck realizing that this, this moment matters. It matters enough for him to want to commit it to memory, and you wonder if he’s going to add it to all the frames you left behind.

But then again, did he even put them up in his new apartment? From what you could see when you were in, there was no picture visible.

It aches, but then he tells you to smile and you do. You immediately do, because there’s nothing easier than smiling when you’re with him like this. The wariness still clings to him, but it’s barely visible, like a mirage that’s about to fade in the distance.

“Stop taking pictures of me,” you say as he takes another one.

He lets out a noncommittal sound, shrugging his shoulder. “Why?”

You pout as blush creeps on your cheek. “You haven’t taken this many pictures of me since… Chicago?”

He shakes his head. “I took more pictures on our first trip to Korea.”

A beautiful trip, where you’d met his family for the first time. You had gotten along with everyone well, even though your Korean was poor. You got better through the years, but you still have a long way before you can speak in Korean without feeling like everyone is going to judge you.

“That’s beside the point,” you mumble. You motion towards Bam, who’s patiently sitting next to you. “I’m pretty sure he’s done.”

Jungkook pouts, and butterflies take flight in your stomach. “Sorry,” he apologizes.

You’re not quite sure why.

“I just…” he adds, and then shadows cloud over his features. They resemble the sorrow that was surrounding him last weekend, and just like that you think summer has ended. “I haven’t used my camera since…”

You don’t need for him to say it, because you know exactly what he was going to say. Still, it hurts, and your gaze drops to the ground.

“Gosh,” you whisper. You let out a strangled sound. “I’m so sorry.”

He doesn’t say anything. Just grabs your hand, raising it to his mouth to press a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

“We said we’d try,” he reminds you, or maybe he’s trying to remind himself. “Let’s try. For real. So no more apologies.”

“I feel like you deserve thousands of apologies and more,” you admit.

He kisses your forehead, and it’s against your skin that he whispers, “I just want us to move on from what happened.”

You nod, wrapping an arm around his waist to loosely hug him. Unfortunately, Bam pulls on his leash, and you have to let go of Jungkook far too quickly. Still, you meet his gaze, nodding your head again.

“I want to move on too,” you tell him. “If I could, I’d erase everything but…”

He holds out his hand for you to interlace your fingers with his. “But it’s in the past.”

He’s right, yet you see the wariness. It’s still there, though you think soon the mist will dissipate with the rays of the sun. So you follow him in, let him feed Bam before he shows you around his small apartment. It feels like him, in ways you can’t really describe, and you want to stay. You think, if he’d ask you’d never leave again.

“I like it,” you tell him as he finishes the tour in his bedroom, which is only occupied by an unmade bed with white sheet and a small night table with his pair of glasses on top. You notice the LED lights, and a smile moves to your lips. “Please tell me these still shine purple like they did at the house with the boys.”

Jungkook nods, offering you a grin. “Yeah. I thought it’d be great to have a… reminder of a simpler time.”

He turns them on, and you get it. You get it so much you grab the lapels of his jean jacket, pulling him closer to you. His lips are upon yours in an instant, hungry, insistent, ravishing a kiss that makes you light-headed. Especially as he grabs your face, holds on to it like it’s a life buoy in a storm. The piercings push into your bottom lip, their colder temperature making your tongue dart to them, as if to warm them.

Jungkook groans, and then kicks the door of his bedroom shut. He’s had to stop kissing you for that, but he’s kissing you again half a second later, and it’s even more intense, more desperate.

You let go of his jacket, hands blindly moving to his belt as he pushes his tongue in your mouth. You suck on it, moan lightly when he groans again. You fumble with the buckle, but soon enough you get it undone, and you move on to the button of his jeans.

You just want him. Need to feel his body against you, in you. And clearly he needs the same thing, as he pulls away from the hug to take your shirt off. Right as you get the button undone, and then unzip his jeans. You slip your hand in, letting out a breathy sound as you find him already hard. He sits heavy in your hand, and you squeeze him unabashedly.

“Fuck,” he curses, head thrown back as his eyes close. “Baby.”

The pet name has you drop to your knees, and you pull his pants down just enough for his dick to spring free. He doesn’t try to stop you, and you admire him for a time. Admire the brown base of his tip, the veins that run along his length. A bead of precum appears on his slit as you look, and you’re quick to lick it clean. The salty taste fills your mouth, and you look up at him, to see him watching down on you, strands of hair falling in his eyes where they’ve escaped the confines of his beanie.

“Suck it, mmh?” he says.

You grab him, jerking him off loosely. “Yeah?”

His eyes darken behind the strands of hair. He bites at his piercings, cocking his head to the side. And then he’s glancing away and to your surprise, he asks, “Can I take pictures of you while you suck my dick?”

You swirl your tongue around his tip, and he bucks his hips forward. In answer, you sit back on your heels, looking up at him innocently. “Right now?” He nods. “You want to take pictures of me while I suck your dick?”

“If you want to,” he answers. “If you don’t want to it’s fine.”

You close your lips around his tip, sucking once. “You’ll keep the pictures to yourself?”

You don’t know why you’re agreeing. Only know that the lust in Jungkook’s gaze is making you forget everything about common sense. But then again, you highly doubt that Jungkook would ever do anything to harm you.

Jungkook’s mouth falls open as he was about to answer, but when you take his dick as far as you can, he’s silenced. And he’s hard in your mouth, a rod of steel you’ve missed since last week.

“Yeah,” he finally breathes out.

You sit back on your heels. “Then it’s fine.”

He smirks, nodding his head as he finishes taking off his jeans and underwear. “Wait here.”

You purse your lips as he walks away, and you watch him leaving his room to head to where he left his camera. You patiently wait, feeling shy even though you have nothing to be shy about. This is just Jungkook – it’s not like he hasn’t seen you half-naked and on your knees for him before.

It takes him a moment to come back, but when he does, it’s to sit on bed. He’s still hard, and he leans back on a hand as you move closer.

“If you want me to stop, you tell me, okay?” he gently says as you run a hand along his thighs.

You glance at his scar, the familiar knot of skin giving you more confidence than you expected. “You’re going to jerk off to these pictures, mmh?”

He gulps, angling his camera towards you as you lean closer to his dick. You lick at it, and the shutter goes off.

It has you dripping in your panties, unexpectedly.

“So what if I do?” he asks as you grab his dick, stroking him.

The question is rhetorical, and your answer is to wrap your lips around his cock as your eyes flutter shut. You swirl your tongue around the tip and hollow your cheeks as you go down. You hold the gag reflex in as he hits the back of your throat, and you can’t help but moan as you hear his camera again.

You flick your tongue at his frenulum on the way out, and then you stroke his dick as you sit back. You move one hand to his balls, squeezing gently before thinking better of it and leaning forward, sucking on one. He grunts, and you keep your eyes locked on the camera as you jerk him off faster.

Another picture added to the list. And you’re dripping wet. Already you want to sink on his dick, want him to be so deep inside of you that you’re just one.

“Kook…” you murmur, and then you’re back to sucking on his dick, though this time you make sure to squeeze his balls too, the way that he likes it. Hard, but not too hard, and you’re choking around his dick in no time as he starts fucking up in your mouth, clearly forgetting about the pictures.

It goes like this for a while, with his dick growing impossibly hard. Your jaw aches by the time he pushes down on your head, hand lost in your hair. You gag, and he moans loudly. You think he’s coming, but he somehow manages to keep it in before pulling you off.

“Shit,” he curses. “Sorry.” He breathes for a moment, as you wipe your mouth and chin from the drool.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him. You glance at the camera. “Any good pics?”

That brings him back to the land of lust and passion, and he offers you a smirk. “We can look at them after. I’m not done with you yet.”

You laugh, because you know you’ve barely started. Know you’re likely to be unable to walk tomorrow. Because the lust in his gaze hasn’t shone so bright in years, yes, but also because you almost lost each other.

Or maybe you have, and this too is just a dip in the past.

You stand up, hands snaking to your back so that you can unclasp your bra. Jungkook watches you carefully, before taking a picture as you massage your breasts. It makes you bite at your lower lip, and you look at his hard dick where it rests on his stomach.

“Can I ride you?” you ask breathlessly.

He smirks. “You don’t want me to finger you first?”

Instead of replying, you finish undressing, taking off your pants and panties at the same time. You then push on his jean jacket, and he takes that as a cue to remove it. You motion to the shirt too as he was about to lean back on his hand and he cocks his head to the side, an eyebrow raised. When you nod, he takes it off too, and it makes his beanie fall.

His hair is a mess, and you can’t resist but step forward so that you can push it back, though you think the jet black strands are currently untamable. You give up after a few seconds, pushing on his chest so that he lies back.

His eyes are on you as you climb on his lap, and you grind along his length, coating it with your juices.

“Shit,” he lets out again. “You’re fucking dripping.”

You nod, moving up just enough so that you can grab the base of his dick. His tip prods your entrance, and he pulls at his piercings as you wait there, teasing him with a corner smile on your lips.

“Fucking tease,” he growls.

It undoes something in you. Because yes, you wanted to tease him. You wanted him to beg you to fuck him, but now you sink down on him, until he reaches your cervix. Even the pain of him hitting the back of your pussy doesn’t make you move, and your walls clench around his dick as he grunts out a curse, followed by your name.

“Kook,” you purr. “Fuck me good.”

He chuckles as you circle your hips, and his free hand rests on your hip as he angles his camera to take a picture of you again. “You can’t do the work?”

He says it condescendingly, and you find enough challenge in you to start bouncing up and down. It shuts him up, and the following moment is spent with you fucking yourself on him as he groans under you, your breathy moans filling his room. Soon enough he stops taking pictures, putting his camera down next to him so that he can hold your hips with his two hands.

And then he’s fucking up in you, and you cry out as you lean forward, wrapping an arm around his neck while your other hand holds on to his shoulder.

You’re a mess, yet your heart clenches in your chest as he fucks you like this. As you remember a land of winter, that somehow doesn’t feel as distant as it should. Maybe because of Jungkook’s wariness tonight, or maybe because you know all good things come to an end.

The thought douses your arousal, until Jungkook stills deep inside of you and whispers, “I want to be with you, like this, forever.”

You nuzzle your face in his neck and suck a mark on his skin. “Me too.”

And then he’s fucking you again, hard and quick. He holds you close, grunts in your ear as you lick at his neck. It’s an abundance of sensation, and your brain focuses on the way he hits your clit whenever he pushes up. Whenever his hips snap against you, and soon there’s an orgasm in the distance.

It finds you when he lets you sit up so that you can fuck yourself on him again, and his thumb finds your clit to press expert circles on it. It finds you hard, and your pussy spasms repeatedly on his dick. He helps you through the high, and when you finally come down, a dumb smile tugs at the corners of your lips.

“Fuck,” you let out.

“Felt good?” he asks with a teasing tone to his voice, the one you know he only reserves for you.

To hear it right now makes you love him so much you think you’ll die on the spot. Because yes, tonight has been great. Yes, it’s almost been like before, but what if he doesn’t take you back?

What if, in the end, this was just an extended moment meant to be closure for you and him?

“Yes,” you still reply.

Because no matter how much your heart aches in your chest, you’ll never lie to him.

“Good,” he says. He sits up, wraps an arm around your waist to steady you as he brings his mouth to yours.

You go in for the kiss. Meet him halfway, and you moan against him as he moves under you, albeit clumsily from the position.

His lips will make you drunk. Make you dumb, make you forget that there’s a world outside the door. That, in that world, you might not belong to him anymore. But then again, you think you do. To you, you always will.

“Lie on your side,” he says after a moment, lips moving against yours.

Jungkook pecks your lips one last time before you move, and then he kneels behind you. His dick prods your entrance again, and he grabs his camera to snap another picture.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he praises as he pushes the tip in, taking another picture. “Such a good little fucking slut.”

And then he pushes all the way in, until all of him is embedded in you. You grip the sheets as a broken moan escapes your lips. He holds your hip with one hand, fingers digging in the supple skin as he fucks you hard, chasing his own orgasm.

He looks good doing it. Long hair sticking to the sweat on his face, eyes narrowed in pleasure, mouth open as soft grunts echo through the room. The purple light makes his honey skin glow somehow, and you feel another orgasm reaching for you, though it doesn’t hit right away. It just feels so good – as he always does – and you can’t help but clench your walls against him.

That’s what undoes him. He comes, ropes of white painting your insides, as he swears and says your name in a litany that almost makes you go over the edge too.

“Baby,” he says at the end.

It feels like a confirmation. Like a confirmation that, maybe, maybe you will work this time around. That maybe distance won’t destroy you again – maybe you’ll grow old and gray by his side.

“You came so much,” you say as you feel his hot cum sitting deep inside of you.

He pulls at his piercing, nodding once. And then he pulls out, and he takes a picture of the cum dripping out of you. He decides to push it back in, curling a finger inside of you, and your walls clench as you moan.

“Touch your clit,” he tells you.

You don’t need to be told twice. You quickly move your fingers to the sensitive bundle of nerves, drawing quick circles on it as he pushes another digit inside of you, fingering you until the second orgasm finally finds you.

You cry out his name, a broken plea that doesn’t really make any sense as your vision turns white. And it stays that way for a long time, blinding you until ecstasy is swimming in your blood. And when you come down from the high, all that you can think is how much you missed him.

“Kook,” you breathe out.

“Baby…”

He puts the camera away, and then bends to press a kiss on your lips. It’s soft, and you grab his face to hold him in place, not even wincing as a bead of his sweat rolls on your cheek. You kiss him with a heart heavy with emotions, trying to show him that you’re never going to leave again. When he pulls away, you notice his teary gaze.

“Can we be together again?” he asks, and you watch in horror as a tear rolls on his cheek. You sit up, drying it with your thumb.

And you don’t care if it was too quick. Don’t care that there’s a high chance it won’t last. You still answer, “Yes, Kook. Yes we can.”

He smiles, nodding his head. “Let’s take a shower. I want to hold you tonight.”

You want to cry from the statement, want to tell him that you wish he could hold you forever, but the words get lodged in your throat. Instead, you follow him as he gets up, interlacing your fingers with his as he leads you to the bathroom, uncaring that his seed is rolling down your inner thighs.

He turns the shower on, and soon enough you’re standing under the hot water. He watches you carefully, presses a kiss on your forehead when you stand in front of him. You wrap your arms around his waist, holding him as close as you physically can. Even then it’s not enough – you want him under your skin, or to be under his.

You don’t think you’d survive being parted from him again. Maybe that’s why you let him fuck you again when you return to his room, slower this time, lips entwined in a never-ending embrace. Love flows between you and him, and it’s etched in the way your bodies move together, in the way you’ve been molded perfectly for him, and him for you.

You wonder if outside, the stars are shining. And you’re struck thinking that tonight, tonight they’ve aligned for you and him again, the universe agreeing for this second chance between you and him.

So you hold him close, and pray that this time around, forever is waiting for you.

Saturday, September 9th

Jungkook wakes up slowly. Softly, the same way waves hit the shore at low tide. He’s unusually warm, and he frowns as he shifts, trying to turn on his side. Then, he realizes his arm is stuck under something. His very dead arm, and he cracks an eye open.

That’s when he remembers that it’s you. You’re the one sleeping next to him, mouth slightly agape as you breathe softly. You’re also the one crushing his arm, and he tentatively clenches and unclenches his fist to try to get the blood circulation back on track. It doesn’t really work, so then he stops, figuring he’s going to have to make you move somehow.

But you look peaceful, in the light of the rising sun. Serene, like there’s never been anything wrong in this world. This morning, Jungkook wants to believe it. Wants to believe that happiness is all he’s ever known – that accidents, heartbreak and pain are all constructs of his imagination.

He’s too realistic for that. Or perhaps the breakup has made him pessimistic. Because the peace of the moment doesn’t really linger, and he’s stuck reliving the moment you left, that night in May. Stuck reliving the wait for you to come back, only you never did.

Or maybe you did, months later. Maybe you really are back, and this time you’ll stay.

You mumble something in your sleep, startling him. It takes him a few seconds to realize you’re still deep asleep, but when you move he quickly does too, pulling his arm from under your head. You frown, lick your lips, and then your features smooth out as you return to your peaceful slumber.

He turns on his side, watching you carefully. He’s aware that watching you sleep is creepy, but he can’t help it. Not when his bed has been empty for months.

He stays like this for a while, unable to fall back asleep. Because, what if you’re gone when he wakes up again? He doesn’t want to risk it.

Unable to help himself, he gently brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. You sigh, and he’s afraid he’s woken you up. When a small smile appears on your lips, his heart skips a beat, yet you don’t show any other sign that you’re awake. He assumes you aren’t, and then decide to take a picture of this moment.

He feels like he’s going to need it. Like all the pictures he took yesterday – he was desperate to commit to memory as much of you as he possibly could. He feels bad – he said he’d give you a chance, he is giving you a chance, but some part of him is just waiting for it to blow up in his face.

Maybe if he expects it it will hurt less.

He carefully grabs his camera where he left it on his night table. He doesn’t dare take a look at the pictures you took yesterday, a little ashamed that he asked you to do that in the first place. Silently, he takes a picture of you, and then puts the camera away.

Only, the reminder of the kind of pictures he’d find in the camera was enough to make his blood stir, and he picks it back up almost immediately.

And then there you are, in all your glory. Beautiful as ever, pussy filled to the brim with his cum, with his cock. Tits squeezed in your hands, in his, and his dick goes rock hard as blood leaves his head.

He wants you again, and he wants you now. He doesn’t care that it’s early morning, that he never liked waking up early. All he can do is put the camera down and slide closer to you. He pulls you back into his embrace, and you sigh softly as he wraps his arms around you.

Jungkook holds you tighter, nuzzling his face in your hair. The inebriating scent of your shampoo fills his nose, and his dick twitches in his underwear.

You hum, and he holds you tighter. “Morning,” he says, voice low and gravelly.

You make another sound that can pass as a hum, but you move against him, until you’ve wrapped an arm around his middle. There’s a moment where silence reigns again, and Jungkook is afraid you’ve fallen back asleep, but then you say, “Morning.”

He smiles. “Slept well?” he asks, kissing the top of your head.

He’s convinced you’re smiling against him as you say, “Want to sleep more.”

He whines, which earns him a chuckle from you that makes the wariness settle back in, even as his heart feels full in his chest.

It never felt full without you. Another reason why he needs to be ready for the blow, whenever it comes.

“I want you,” he admits. “Can’t sleep.”

You hum again, and your hand slides down his back. You squeeze his ass, and then move the hand back up. “You’re going to have to try.”

He whines, lips jutting out in a pout. “Boring.”

At that you laugh, pushing him slightly until you’re able to look him in the eye. He keeps the pout on, knowing that it always worked with you before.

“It’s not even morning,” you point out.

“The sun is up.”

You roll your eyes, though your lips are curved upwards, your gaze beaming as you hold his. “We fucked twice last night.”

He shrugs, rolling on his back so that he can stare up at the ceiling. He pulls at his piercing, the new one, and then turns his head towards you again. “Yeah, and?”

“Surely you don’t need to fuck right now,” you tease.

He frowns, looking away again. “Not my fault if I haven’t fucked since… May. Last weekend doesn’t count.”

“I’m pretty sure it does,” you say, laughing lightly. You prop yourself up on an elbow, blinking away the tiredness as you meet his gaze again. “And besides,” you pause, features turning confused as a crease appears between your brows. “Haven’t you fucked while we were…” you trail off, motioning vaguely around you.

And then something occurs to Jungkook. Something bad – maybe the explosion was closer than he expected it to be. Maybe he’s been standing in the radius of impact, waiting for the bomb to go off. And maybe your sleep deprived brain forgot the measure of protection, maybe it forgot he was standing there.

Because your eyes go round with fear, right as a drop of lead solidifies in Jungkook’s stomach.

“What?” he lets out.

What a stupid question to ask. He wants to beat himself up, because he knows.

He knows now that you’ve been with someone else. Why else would you be surprised that he hasn’t?

“I’m just saying…” you try, but it’s too late.

The bomb has gone off, and all that’s left is rumbles.

“Get out,” Jungkook says, and somehow it’s lacking bite. It’s lacking anger, lacking any signs that he cares for you.

It surprises even himself – doesn’t he care? Or is there nothing left of him in the aftermath of the explosion?

“Kook.”

“You’ve fucked someone else,” he states. When you don’t say anything, just watch him in horror, he sits up in bed. “Get out.”

“Come on,” you let out this time, following him up. You wrap yourself in the blanket, his blanket, and he wants to rip it from your body. Doesn’t want anything that’s his to be in contact with you anymore. “It didn’t mean anything,” you say, and you’re suddenly blinking back tears. “It was just one-time.”

“Frankly, I don’t want to know,” Jungkook says, and he really doesn’t. Doesn’t want to think about another man’s hand on you, or he’ll break.

He’s done breaking for you.

You don’t fight the tears, as you understand that the end really has come. At least that’s what he thinks happens – you just sit there, gaze heavy with tears until they fall, little droplets that carry a world of regret.

After all, the distance really was enough to break you up, wasn’t it?

Jungkook watches you, surprised that his heart is not clenching in his chest. No, he feels nothing as he watches you – he’s already cried enough for you.

“We were broken up,” you murmur, holding his gaze. “It’s not like I cheated.”

At that he laughs, shaking his head. If you can’t understand that he’s done, that he doesn’t want to have anything to do with you anymore, then he’ll do it the harsh way.

“I don’t give a fuck,” he says. “I couldn’t be with someone else. I tried, and you were all I could think of. And…”

“You tried!” you interject. “You tried and you’re giving me shit for it?”

He gets up, trying to put distance between you and him, as if that’ll make the fight easier.

“I still chose not to do it,” he coldly states. “The girl was willing, she even kissed me and…”

“You kissed someone else?”

He laughs again, the absurdity of the situation dawning upon him. “Yeah? Tae set me up on a date, and the girl kissed me at the end and I told her I couldn’t. I didn’t fuck someone else.”

The way he’s throwing the blame at you feels selfish, especially as more tears join those already sliding down your cheeks.

“How is that fair, that you’re mad at me when you literally went on a date with someone else?” You pause, choking on a sob as you try to dry your cheeks. “Come on, Kook, it meant nothing.”

“Who did you fuck anyway?” he asks.

For a reason unknown, your tears stop. Entirely, there a moment and gone the next. “Why do you want to know?”

He doesn’t. He doesn’t fucking want to know, and he scoffs as he runs a hand through his hair, pulling at the strands. “Get out,” he says again, still as stern and void of emotion.

“It was Harrison,” you still say. “I switched departments because I didn’t want to see him again after that.”

Now, there’s an inkling of pain tickling the carcass of his dead heart. As if there was still more, for him to feel, even after everything. As if pain is but a constant of his life now, and he thinks maybe it is.

“Your colleague?” he repeats, dumbfounded.

He’s met Harrison a couple of times, throughout your relationship. He’s always thought the guy was decent, but now something very ugly settles deep in his core. Something that tells him, ‘Hey, maybe he’s only ever wanted to fuck her, maybe he was waiting for his chance’.

The words are on a loop in his head, and he doesn’t even think he can see you anymore. All that he sees is Harrison with his hands on you, in his ever-too creative mind.

He startles as you put a hand on his arm. He shrugs your grip off, steps away from you. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Kook, I swear, please listen to me,” you beg, and now you’re crying again.

He shakes his head. “I don’t want to.” At that he shuts his eyes, runs a hand on his forehead and then through his hair. “I really don’t want to. I don’t want you to be here anymore.”

“It didn’t mean anything,” you say, an echo of something you said earlier. Though this time you say it differently, as if you too sensed the finality in Jungkook’s tone.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever want you to be around anymore. He was stupid to give you a chance after you broke his heart – you chose to break up, months ago. Why would it be different this time around?

“It doesn’t matter,” he tells you, as softly as he can. Because he knows you’ll break even more, and some dark, twisted part of him is satisfied that this time, this time he’s the one with all the power over you. “I’m done, Y/n.”

The words sound like thunder, in all their calmness. In all their softness – or maybe that was the sound of your heart breaking. Whatever it was, Jungkook really is done. He wants you gone, wants to be able to break in the quiet peace of his home.

A home you aren’t a part of anymore.

You nod. He expects you to fight more, but you nod. Choke out a sob, turn around, and start putting your clothes on. He figures he should dress too, so he does, picking up discarded items of clothing on the floor, not caring that they probably aren’t clean. All that he cares about is to get you out of his apartment, out of his sight.

And when you’re ready, he walks you to the front door. Lets you say goodbye to Bam, a crushing parallel to the time you’ve said goodbye in May. Bam still looks confused, and Jungkook feels bad, for a moment. Because you were the dog’s mother – he’s been looking for you ever since May. Jungkook can only hope that, this time around, Bam understands that it’s farewell.

When you straighten, you mutter an apology. Jungkook ignores it, holds your gaze expecting something to hurt, but he’s just empty. Empty and tired, and all he wants is to go back to sleep and to never wake up again.

“I can’t let you go,” you let out, voice stark with pain.

He shrugs. “You should have realized that in May.”

You close your eyes, and you look so fragile. Like glass – it never survives the shockwave of an explosion, doesn’t it?

“Please,” you beg. “Let me make it up to you.”

He laughs bitterly. “How? You’re going to go back in time and not get fucked by him? You’re going to go back in time and not break up?”

You look like you want to curse him, and he almost wants you to. He wants you to fight, wants you to make him feel something other than this emptiness. Instead, you shake even more, sobs racking through you.

“I wish I could.”

“Leave.”

“Jungkook, I swear,” you insist. “Let’s not lose each other over this.”

He wets his lips, tongue pushing in the inside of his cheek next. “We’ve lost each other already. It’s time we realize that we have.”

And that does it. You fall silent, defeat washing over you like a tsunami wave – there’s nothing left after its passage, and you look tired, sick, standing there right next to the door.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize again.

He shrugs. “It’s whatever. The past is the past.”

You look like you want to say something else, but somehow you remain silent. Somehow you look at him for a time, bloodshot eyes taking in his features as if it’s the last time you’ll ever see him again. He surprises himself by doing it too, mostly by instinct. Because right now, looking at you makes him want to be sick, but he knows that it won’t last.

He knows that the echo of pain in the distance is a good indicator that he still has it in him to break for you. That he’ll break for you forever, perhaps. Because he doesn’t think that there’s an end to you and him. It’s always going to be a cycle, and it’ll never end well.

“Goodbye, Jungkook,” you murmur.

He offers you a tight-lipped smile. “Goodbye.”

All he can do is hope you know it means farewell.

Thursday, October 5th

You used to love fall. The cooler weather, the long walks that smell like soil and fallen leaves and pumpkins. Nowadays, you hate fall.

You hate it because he loved it, and every reminder of him is poison to you. And though the season is still early, the days are getting shorter, and the longer the night, the more you drown in thoughts.

You haven’t slept in weeks. Have barely eaten too, and you’ve been off from work for a week. It’s allowed you to stay in, to just sit and try to breathe, hoping that it’ll help.

That it’ll fix something that’s never going to be fixed.

You’re lost. Lost in a town that used to be your home, lost in memories that used to be beauty brought to life – now, you’re seeing the ugliness in beauty. Because beauty is temporary, and like all temporary things in life it doesn’t last long enough. Beauty, and the ending temporality of it, leaves nothing when it goes but a bitter taste in mouth.

Perhaps that’s why you haven’t been able to eat properly.

You haven’t spoken to anyone, since the early morning he asked you to leave. Yet for some reason, you’ve felt the need to go outside today. To walk around, aimlessly perhaps, but you couldn’t stay inside a second longer. Too many tears were shed in your apartment, and you hoped the cool weather would help you feel better.

It does, a little. Because you feel like you’re breathing him in every time you inhale, and then carry him out on an exhale. You feel close to him, in a distant way that’s bound to only make you break harder tonight, but right now you can’t bring yourself to care. You do hate the reminders of him, but you need them. Viscerally, as he was the oxygen in your lungs for so long.

You’re going to have to learn how to live without him, one step at a time.

So you take another step, let your instinct carry you where you have to go. Maybe it knows how to heal.

The sun is descending in the sky, and the absence of clouds lead to a sea of azure you’d swim in if you could. You’d soar up high, so high that there isn’t oxygen anymore, and maybe then the pain would cease. You’d ride a sunray into the night, where you’d finally be able to fall into a well-deserved slumber.

As you look up, a tiny bird flies across the sky, a small speck of brown that goes so fast you think you imagine it. Like the years with him – they went by so quickly, the crushing wheel of time spinning down the slope towards the end.

Seven years ago, almost to the day, you kissed him on a hotel roof lost in Chicago, under clouds painted with fire. Who knew seven years later you’d be trying to live without him, clearly failing at it.

You sigh, pushing the thought away as you reach a crossing. You wait for the light to turn green, then follow the parallel white lines across the road. You avoid a pile of leaves, though a strong gust of wind makes some of them swirl around you, spinning like Mother Nature’s tiny dancers.

The foliage in the trees along the street is golden and red, bright colours that look out of place in the bleakness of your heart. You follow them, wonder if they know that they are about to die. The answer is one you’ll never have, and so you walk under the trees, the autumn breeze playing with your hair.

You don’t know where your steps have been carrying you. You’ve long gone past the places you usually go to, heading towards the middle of the city. The no man’s land between you and Jungkook, spread wide in a maze of streets you want to get lost in.

So you do. You press on, walk until the sun becomes a ball of melted gold nearing the horizon, and it’s on the corner of a street that a glint in a vitrine catches your eyes.

You eye the rings, crafted by an expert hand. Bands of gold, with diamonds and emeralds and gems you don’t know the name of. They look expensive, elegant, and you wonder if you would have had a ring on your finger one day, bought by him.

Recklessly, you walk into the shop, wishing to peruse its vitrines, hoping they’ll offer you dreams to survive the night. And you can almost see it – a ring on your finger, a proposal under a star-sprinkled sky, an intimate wedding for you and him. A dance, always and forever, of love shared like a secret in the night. Your secret, as the end would have one day come for you and him, an eternity of life later. You would have been old and grey, yet your love would have been young and eternal.

In this dream, he would have never taken the job overseas. You’d have stayed here, together, growing old by his side. You would have gotten more dogs, maybe even a cat, and you’d have lived happily ever after.

You wonder if, in a parallel universe to yours, the dream is unfolding. If parallel-universe you has the chance to experience it, and you think she does. You think she does, and the love is so strong it’s shaking through universes, picking you up like you’re just a leaf in an autumn wind.

Because why else, then, do you find yourself buying a gold band? Too big for you, masculine in its simplicity. Something you think he would have worn, had you been in that other universe.

You sit on a bench outside, after, as the last of the sunlight finally fades away, replaced by a blue dusk that matches your mood far better than the sun ever could. You have no idea where you are in the city, no will to brave the trek back home – you’ve been out for hours at this point.

You grab your phone, long forgotten in your purse. You haven’t touched it all day, and to your surprise you’ve received a couple of texts while you were walking, all by the same person.

[04:37 pm] Jimin: hey, this is going to sound crazy [04:37 pm] Jimin: and I’m really sorry to be telling u this [04:37 pm] Jimin: can u go check on JK? [04:38 pm] Jimin: he’s been unreachable for days and at this point I think he’ll only talk to u

You want to text him back to fuck off, to leave you alone, yet you hold on tighter to the velvety box in which the gold band hides. After all, even if you’ve received the texts hours ago, you’re realizing perhaps that that’s where your steps have been leading you anyway.

It’s stupid – he asked you to leave. Hasn’t contacted you once since then, and it’s like the wedding and the week after never happened. Like you’ve been broken up for months, like you barely know him anymore. He’s a stranger now, in your life, something you’d never thought he’d become someday.

And why would he talk to you? Why would he want you in his vicinity, when he made it clear as spring water that he was done, that the end had come to pass between you and him?

But if the end has come, why is that you’ve been feeling like you’re surrounded by him, today? Like you’ll always be – just a drop of water in the sea of him. Perhaps you are weak, to feel for him the way that you do, but seven years ago, the cataclysm that started you and him shook you, and its repercussions are still felt today. Will be felt until your dying breath, until all that’s left of you is stardust.

So you let your feet carry you, weightless in the way that you’re moving forward. Like you are once again but a leaf carried by the wind, and you can only hope that it’ll let you land in the right place.

You don’t really know how you make it to his building. Perhaps you were closer than you initially thought you were – all that you know is that you recognize the building, and that you sense his proximity through the walls.

Your heart reaches for him, longs for him in a way you can’t ignore anymore. Because you’ve been dead, without him. Just a shell of what you should be, of what you want to be. Because yes, you could learn to live without him. After everything that you’ve been through, you know well enough that you are strong enough to do it.

But you don’t want it. You want that dream you’ve found in the jewelry shop, want to make it possible. Want to prove that, no matter who would ever get close to you, he’ll always be the owner of your heart.

So you walk in. Reach the elevator, press on the call button. Then on the fourth floor, reminiscing the night you rode the elevator in his company, right before the fall. The new fall, a harshest one that made you reach those low levels of hell that living without him are consisted of.

You awaken when you are standing in front of his door. You think you can almost hear him inside, moving around through his home. You wonder if he can hear your heartbeat, where you’re standing. If he too can tell that you’re nearby once again, even though you shouldn’t have been.

Even though farewells have come to pass between you and him.

You don’t knock. You don’t have to. To your surprise, the door opens in front of you, slowly, before you’ve even managed to raise your arm to knock. Then his voice fills your ear, as he tells Bam to wait. You just stand there, dumbfounded, and then his eyes move from the floor to your face, and his mouth falls open.

Bam jumps on you, tail wagging wildly as you take a step back from the force of impact. You pet him on the head, pushing him back to the floor as you try to focus on Jungkook.

And then it dawns upon you that you have no clue what to tell him. You reckon you maybe should have prepared something in advance, because you’re wordless standing in front of him.

“Hey,” you eventually say, and you think the world has time to revolve around the sun three times before you manage to say something else. “How are you?”

His mouth slowly shuts, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. He pulls on Bam’s leash, tells the dog to sit, before he finally addresses you. Just your name, and the way he says it make it sound formal, like you’re just a stranger.

“What are you doing here?” he asks after another moment.

You look down at your hands. At the box you’re holding, and his eyes follow after you. “I was thinking of you, today,” you admit.

He sighs, and his eyes shut. “You were?”

You nod as he meets your gaze again. “When am I not?” Your comment doesn’t ask for a response, and he doesn’t offer you one either. “Jimin told me you’ve been unreachable.”

“Yeah,” he lets out. “I’ve been busy.”

“Oh.” You try to look behind him, as if you’ll find his reason to be busy there. “Can I talk to you?”

He says your name, this time like an apology. “I told you we were done.”

You shrug. “I know.” You gulp, fingers playing with the velvet box as if it’ll help ground you. “Can I walk Bam with you, then?”

He looks conflicted but he gives in. Says yes in a defeated way that rips your heart from your chest, in a way that makes you cling to the ring box even more, hoping that it’ll offer you salvation.

Being outside in the early fall evening with him feels like the Earth has finally returned to its normal axis. You don’t say anything, unable to find the words, and he remains silent too. You just enjoy his company, watching over Bam as he sniffs at plants before peeing on a pole.

Stars are twinkling in the sky up above. The breeze is still soft tonight, caressing your features in a gentle embrace that resembles the one he’d used to offer you, though it’s far colder than his. You spare a glance at him – he’s already looking, and he doesn’t look away as your gazes connect.

“What are you doing here?” he asks again.

You wet your lips. “I don’t know,” you admit. “I’ve been thinking about you.”

“How is that an explanation?” A shrug of your shoulders is all the answer he gets. He scoffs, shakes his head slightly, and then his head turns toward the door of his building. “I have hot chocolate inside,” he tells you, once again sounding defeated. “Do you want a cup?”

Turns out salvation wasn’t to be found in the velvet box you’re holding, but in the gentle angles of Jungkook’s features, behind his big doe eyes that will forever feel like home to you.

“I don’t want to intrude,” you tell him, voice soft. “I just wanted to… talk.”

“Then let’s talk over a cup of hot chocolate,” he says.

Which is what you do. You follow him in, feeling like you’re out of place in his life. Like he’s only giving this to you because of what you used to be to one another. Yet you don’t care. You’re slowly finding words, your brain shaping them into sentences to change an ending you can’t come to terms with.

Jungkook prepares the hot chocolate in silence, as you sit at his small dinner table. You play with Bam as he does so, a game of tug-of-war that you’re bound to lose as the dog is far stronger than you. Yet you still indulge, as you’ve missed Bam far more than you even thought possible.

The game is only interrupted when Jungkook rests a cup of steaming hot chocolate on the table next to you. You let Bam go, and the dog trots away to go play somewhere else, you can only assume.

“What did you want to talk about?”

You’ve left the ring box on the table. You’ve noticed Jungkook glancing at it repeatedly since you’ve put it there, and you worry at your bottom lip.

“I wanted to apologize again, for what it’s worth,” you answer. “I felt horrible when it happened, and just wanted to forget all about it.”

His features turn harsh, and his eyes drop into the cup of hot chocolate he’s nursing for himself. It reminds you of a café, of a conversation you had years ago, that led to you opening up to him, and to him opening up to you.

“I love you,” you continue. “I haven’t stopped loving you, and if I’d known that breaking up would hurt so much, I would’ve fought harder. I wish I had, and I wish I’d never let you go.”

“But you did…” he says when you remain silent for a few seconds.

“But I did. And I understand if you hate me for it. If you don’t want to ever see me again. But shit, you’re the only thing that I’ve been able to think about. Just you, and everything that could have been, had I been stronger.”

You grab the cup of hot chocolate, the warmth of it slowly seeping through your cold fingers. For the next few minutes, you don’t say anything, and neither does he. You just drink the hot chocolate, hoping you’ll find more words to say at the bottom of the cup.

“The distance was hard,” Jungkook eventually says. “I don’t blame you for wanting to end things over it.”

It surprises you. Makes your brain go entirely empty, and you just watch him with wide eyes for a few seconds.

He shrugs as you don’t say anything. “What?” He looks down, tongue darting out to play with his piercings. “I’ve been thinking about everything too.”

“Yeah?”

He nods. “I over-reacted, when you told me you had sex with Harrison,” he admits.

Totally not expecting the conversation to take this turn, you’re stunned silent.

“I was shocked, and needed time to process,” he continues. “You were right, the fact that I went on a full-on date is just as bad, differently. We were broken up, we didn’t owe each other anything.”

As much as it pains you to agree, you still do, nodding your head. “We didn’t.”

He purses his lips, holds your gaze for a few seconds before glancing down at his cup. The silence is more comfortable now, as you think maybe, maybe then the dream you’ve dreamed about isn’t just a distant mirage of what could have once been. It’s foolish, but you can’t help it.

You think your heart is beating for the first time since you left that morning weeks ago.

“Did you want to speak about anything else?” he asks after he’s taken a long sip of his hot chocolate.

You take a deep breath, and somehow courage finds you on the long exhale. “I don’t want us to be over.”

You think you hear him gulp. “You don’t?”

Blinking away a few tears, you shake your head no. “I really don’t. I walked around all day today, and all I could think about was you. All I could think of was all the years between us, from when we met to a few weeks ago. And I don’t know, I refuse to accept that the end has come.”

“When does it come, then?” he asks.

“When the end comes?”

He nods.

“After years and years,” you say, allowing yourself to voice your dream. “Hopefully after we’ve had years to live together. After we’ve gotten married, and maybe even after we’ve had kids. Not that I want some.” You pause, and you look down at the table, unable to carry the weight of his gaze anymore. “Or maybe after we’ve had plenty of dogs, a cat or two. After we’ve had a house with a white picket fence, after we’ve danced under a thousand different night skies.” A tear rolls on your cheek, and you do nothing to stop it. “After we’ve travelled the world together, after we’ve had a chance to live, together.”

“And what happens after we’ve lived together?” he presses.

You shrug. “Then we die together. Then we turn into stardust and memories. I don’t care. As long as it’s with you, I don’t care what happens to me.”

Blurry behind the wall of tears in your eyes, you see Jungkook run a hand through his hair. “You don’t?”

“I don’t,” you echo. “I just want to get to love you.”

At that you do cry. And not just a little bit. Your heart longs and yearns for him, reaching in the space between you, trying to find a beat to sync with. You wipe your cheeks dry with trembling hands, before pressing the heel of your palms on your eyes, hoping to stop the cascade at the source.

“It’s a nice dream,” Jungkook says after the few minutes it takes you to collect yourself, your hands falling to the table.

“Is it?”

He nods. “Yeah. I don’t think we’d do a white picket fence though. I’ve always found cedar trees make a better fence.”

Something stirs inside of you, and you want to take a hold of him, and to never let go. “Yeah?”

He sits back in the chair, looks up to the ceiling as he blinks away the silver in his own gaze. You wonder if he’s crying because he saw you cry, as the sympathetic crier that he is, or because he shares the emotions in your heart.

“Where would you want to get married?” he asks then.

You push the velvet box towards him. “This is for you.”

He doesn’t acknowledge this, instead repeating the question.

“Somewhere in the countryside,” you answer. “Maybe the cottage where it all started.” You think about Julys of a world ago. “Under the night sky.”

“People don’t usually get married when it’s already dark.”

“Right,” you let out. “Then we’d have a ceremony for just us two when it’s dark outside.”

At that he grabs the box, opening it. You reckon he must have known what the content was, because he doesn’t say anything as he takes it out. As he tries to put it on his finger, though it doesn’t fit. It’s too tight, and it makes him chuckle, a sad sound that almost kills you on the spot.

“Do you think we’d dance under the stars?” he asks as he turns the gold band in his fingers, and light glimmers on it.

“Yes,” you say, nodding your head. “We always would.”

“So you came all the way here to tell me this?”

He meets your gaze again, for the first time in a while. He looks struck with emotion, much like you feel – the depths of his eyes are swirling with love and ache and yearning. You fall forward, fall in his eyes, trying to find home again.

“I came here to ask you to marry me,” you finally say, as it dawns upon you that, yes, your steps were leading you to this all along. “Jungkook, will you marry me?”

He smiles, a world of sadness etched in the sweet curve of his lips. “Can it be this easy?”

You shut your eyes. “It can. Please. Let’s not lose what we have again.”

“When would you like to get married?” he asks.

“Are you saying yes?”

He plays with his piercing, takes a deep breath as he chases tears away from his gaze but to no avail. You watch the two drops as they slowly roll down his face. “When would you like to get married?”

“In July,” you answer easily.

“Next year?”

You nod.

He holds your gaze for a few seconds more, then looks at the gold band again. His fist closes around it, slowly, as if he’ll be able to crush it in his hold. For what you don’t know. All that you know is that his features grow tortured, pained. It doesn’t last long – another deep breath later the expression is gone.

“I need to tell you something,” he says then, his voice so small you can barely hear it.

You prepare yourself. As well as you can, expecting the blow before it comes. You sense it – in the eternity it takes for him to speak again, you see every moment of you and him before this day, your life flashing before your eyes as if you’re about to die.

And then he says it a first time. At first you don’t even understand the words, as if he’s speaking a foreign language. So you let out, “What?”, hoping that it will change the cruelty that this world holds.

But nothing can, after the end has come. Nothing, especially not as he repeats the words, softly, their meaning tainting the dream you’ve just painted with him, until all that’s left of it is a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

“I’m permanently moving to South Korea.”

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I'm sorry for the angst, for the cliffhanger, for them to be so stubborn and for how life is working against them now. I hope you don't hate me too much after this :') let me know what you think of this chapter!

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spidernuggets · 3 months

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Can I request #15 from the lyric list with Jason Todd please? I think it's perfect for angst or hurt/comfort, whatever you want to write really

Jason Todd x Reader

Warning: Slightly suggestive if you squint

"You with the dark curls, you with the water colour eyes"

"Jesus Christ, how do you expect me not to get upset over something like this, Jason! You're never home anymore! We don't go on dates anymore! Your.. Your friends and family don't even know we're dating!" You yell at him, tears already cascading down your face.

Jason sighs in frustration. It was late in the afternoon when Jason woke up since he was out late on patrol last night. He knew what he was getting into when he started dating you. Dark secrets, little communication. It was selfish of him, but he couldn't help it. The selfish itch in his heart dragged him towards you, not wanting to share you with anyone else.

And together with his other ego of Red Hood, he was out late at night, coming home to you in the early hours of 5am, sleeping in until around 3pm, in which he either has to go to Wayne Manor for training, or go out with Roy for a side mission.

He promised himself not to tell you about his secret life. The less you knew, the safer. Villains wouldn't give to use you as blackmail or kidnap you or hurt you. If any of them did, he wouldn't hesitate to go against Batman's morals and put a bullet through their head, no matter how long it took him to make amends with his adoptive father.

Jason sighed in frustration, pulling his hair back with a firm grip. "They don't need to know!" He says back, slightly raising his voice in attempts to remain as calm as possible. "It's none of their business!"

"How?! Am I not someone you care about?!"

"Of course you are! But they don't need to know that!"

"Why not?!"

"Because I don't want them to!" Jason yells.

You stayed quiet after that. He doesn't want them to know about you? Why?? Was he really ashamed to be dating you? Why the fuck would he date you in the first place then?

Jason's eyes widen. He didn't mean to say it. Not like that, to say the least. He didn't want his friends or family to overwhelm you. He didn't want them to be a variable in what could happen if you'd find out about his other life. And even if you didn't, he especially didn't want the press to be involved when they found out another one of Bruce Wayne's sons has found a lover.

"Doll, I-"

You put your hand out as Jason stepped closer. You spit out a harsh, sarcastic laugh as you dried your tear-stained cheeks. "You know, I thought you wanted to keep this relationship on the down low because I know how much you hate how nosy your family is. But, you know, you could've just said that dating me was that embarrassing. I would've been out of your hair ages ago if you were that ashamed to be seen with me," you snip. You start to walk to your shared bedroom, grabbing your duffel and shoving random clothes into it.

Jason felt paralysed. He couldn't move, and his heart was beating rapidly inside his head. It hurt so much. He just wanted to protect you. He just wanted to keep you safe.

When he was finally abke to manoeuvre his limbs, he rushed towards the bedroom. His head felt like it was about to explode when he saw you zipping up your duffel and throwing it over your shoulder.

"Y/n, please! I didn't-" He tried to call out to you. He tried to reason with you.

"I'll come back for the rest of my stuff next week," you mumble as you walk right past him, refusing to make eye contact with him.

Jason's heart shattered into a million pieces. His mind stopped functioning, and he went into another one of his melancholic episodes. He caved away in your used-to-be shared bedroom for the majority of that week. He clutched your pillow ever so close to him, hoping he was delusional enough to believe it was you. But it wasn't the same. He tried to think of many ways to make it up to you, to grow a pair and try to talk things out. But he's never seen you look so upset.

He wanted to fill his own head with lead. He promised himself never to let you get hurt, and he promised that if anyone did hurt you, he'd kill them. But he was the one who hurt you. And he wanted someone to put him out of his misery.

Bruce then called Jasin near the end of the week, telling him that he had missed too many important missions already and that he needed to get back in the field. Bruce was pissed. But Jason ignored him, as usual.

So, Bruce had no choice but to bring out the big guns. He ordered Alfred to demand Jason to get back to work. Alfred didn't demand, obviously. He just gently laid out that the team couldn't afford any more rest days from Jason, so they all needed Red Hood to get his head in the game. And Jason could never say no to Alfred.

So he put the big, red helmet back on and went out for crime-fighting. Granted, his skills were lacking more than usual, but Dick held Bruce back from making a scene. Dick was the only person to know of yours and Jason's past relationship, and he knew Jason would've been more appreciative and comfortable if he didn't mention it to the others. He eventually found out early in the week that you broke up with Jason and moved out of his apartment, so he understood why he was falling behind on the current mission.

There were a bunch of men who worked for Black Mask roaming the streets. Some were easily tied up already, and some were more skilled than others as there were bullets flying left and right.

Unfortunately, during the same time, you decided it would be a good time to head back to Jason's apartment to grab the rest of your belongings and the Black Man vs. Bats' encounter just so happened to take place on the route.

You were checking your phone and foolishly had your headphones on, too. It wasn't until you were at a witness distance away from the scene and heard a gunshot being fired.

From natural reaction, you screamed. You were at quite far distance, but ome of the men heard you. He called over two other guys with him. They couldn't afford to have a civilian witness.

Just when one was about to throw a knife at you, Red Hood comes swinging in, knocking him out. He disarmed the weapons of the other two, headbutting one, leaving him unconscious, and shot the other in the leg, as if he didn't have any problem fighting two seconds ago.

Your breathing was heavy and you couldn't move from where you were standing.

Red Hood came closer to you, grasping your shoulders, looking around for any wounds or bruises.

"Are you okay??" He asked in complete worry. You knew Red Hood cared about victims and innocent civilians, but he seemed real comfortable right now, but you decided to brush it off.

"Yeah... I think I'm- Watch out!" You tried to warn. The guy who was shot in the leg was able to get up and take a swing at Red Hood's head with a stray metal pole he found near him. Luckily, Red Hood was able to kick the pole out of the man's hand and punch him until he was out cold.

"Shit," Red Hood hisses. He didn't even realise his helmet cracked open until he turned around to check up on you again.

He was about to ask if you were okay again until he realised the shocked expression on your face. The right side of his mask was busted open, showing the pale colour of his green eyes and a few stray strands of dark locks sticking out.

You know those features. You know them so well.

Suddenly, you were back in your shared apartment with Jason, watching 'The Dead Poets Society' during a Saturday afternoon. He was being cradled in your arms, his head laying on your chest, and every few minutes, he would look up at you with those beautiful eyes, smiling and telling you how much he loves you, while your hand intertwined with the curls of his hair.

Suddenly, you were back in your shared kitchen, Jason huddled in the corner, arms wrapped around his knees as his head was buried within his arms. He was having another panic attack, and you slowly approached him, whispering multiple times that it was just you. It was just you and him, and it will always just be you and him. That's when he let you hold him. Your nose was nuzzled into the crown of his head, his hair tickling your neck. And he looked at you with watering eyes, apologising for putting up with him, but you just shushed him, assuring that you're never putting up with him, and that it was just another way of showing that you adore and love him with your whole heart.

Suddenly, you were back on your shared bed with the sheets tossed on the floor. Your hands were at a firm grip, pulling and tugging on Jason's hair as he made sure to keep reminding you to maintain eye contact with him the whole time while his face was settled comfortably between your thighs.

"Jason?"

"Fuck.. You.. You weren't supposed to-" Jason got a report on his comms that the rest of Black Masks' men have been taken out and GCPD will be arriving soon.

"C'mon, let's get you home," Jason mumbles, leading you towards his bike.

"We're going back to your place, Jason," you say behind him, making him stop and turn around to face you. "We're going back to your place, and you're going to tell me everything. You owe me," it wasn't a plead or a beg. It was a demand.

And Jason knew he couldn't be selfish anymore. And he also wanted you back. Back in his apartment, making it your own, too. He wanted you back in his arms. He wanted to be back in your arms. So he nods, taking you to his bike and driving back to his apartment.

He sits you down, asking you once more if you want to know everything in which you just gave him a deadpanned look.

You knew that Jason Todd went missing in some unknown accident. But that was 'Jason Todd', not Robin. So Jason tells you that there was more to his fake death, and you nod giving him the go ahead.

And with that, Jason tells you his story. From him stealing the Batmobile's tires to becoming Robin to getting killed by the Joker to come back to life by the Lazarus Pit, up until this very moment.

You didn't know how to react. You sat there on the couch staring into his eyes. Jason looks away, not wanting to see the look on your face once you've comprehended what he had finally admitted to.

"You've been through so much. And you didn't tell me. Is this why you get those panic attacks? I could've... I could've done more," you mutter. But Jason's eyes widen as he shakes his head, getting on his knees in front of you.

"No. No, Y/n. That isn't your responsibility," he says.

You look at him, annoyed. "My responsibility is to love you, Jason! And being there for you is part of loving you. You could've.. you could've at least told me small parts of your story. You could've told me you were Red Hood, and that would be end of story. I'd still love you.."

He shakes his head once more. "If you knew, you wouldn't be safe. Your safety probably decreased right now, now that you know who I am," he says, almost in a whine. "I just wanted to protect you. Of course, I'd never be embarrassed or ashamed to be seen with you. If I had it my way, if I just lived a normal life, I'd be showing you off to anyone looking our way," he confesses, and you couldn't help but smile.

You hold Jason's face in your hands, holding it so carefully, as if his face was the most delicate thing in the world. "Jay, I know you. I know you can protect me, and your family can protect us. You're so strong. I just know that no harm can come our way," you try to reassure him. He nods in response.

You place a lingering kiss on the crown of his head. "I'll be bringing my stuff back here tomorrow. No more secrets, please, hm?"

"Mhm," he nods. He's tired. And he just wants to be back with you. And you give that to him.

Suddenly, you're back in your shared bedroom on your bed. Your limbs are tangled with Jason's. Your noses are in close proximity. Your eyes are staring back at each other. And your fingers are caressing each strand of hair on his pretty head.

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cher-rei · 4 months

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feels like forever [ T.A.A ]

pairing: trent alexander arnold x femreader

summary: you had been away on a trip for a few weeks but decided to come home earlier to surprise your boyfriend

[wc: 1,8k] masterlist

genre(s): established relationship, straight-up fluff

three weeks. that's how long it's been since you had seen your boyfriend. when you first told him about the trip more than two months ago, it wasn't that big of a deal. If anything trent was urging you to go, saying that you deserved the time off and that he'd be fine by himself. you were reluctant at first, considering that you'd be gone for an entire month and that seemed a bit too much but be wouldn't budge.

"I'll come home a bit earlier I promise. there's seriously no reason for me to be gone for more than two weeks," you said, leaning back on the kitchen counter as you watched trent rummage through the fridge.

"just stay the full month baby, I'll be fine." he halted his rummage fest and turned to look at you with his eyebrow quirked and a smile. "or do you think I'm incapable of being left alone?"

there was a moment of silence that passed to which he let out an amused scoff. "you're joking right?" he took a few steps closer, causing you to tighten your grip on the counter with a suppressed smile but avoiding his gaze at all costs.

you didn't think he was incapable of being left alone. he was a grown man and knew how to handle himself, but there were times when you wondered what was going on inside his head.

he was standing in front of you now, his hand snaking around your waist ever so slowly while the other tilted your chin up to look at him. of course, he was smiling, he knew the effect he had on you all too well and made sure to use it to his advantage when needed. "go on the trip, okay?"

"but I'll come bac--"

you were cut off with a quick peck on the lips, and then another on your cheek, and another on your forehead, and another on your nose. by now you were a giggling mess, trying your best to find the strength to put some distance in between the two of you but trent wasn't having it until you finally gave in with a reluctant sigh.

"yes I win!"

oh, he won alright because even at the airport when he sent you off he practically had to drag you out of the car and to the boarding gate. you met up with your friends the second you got there but never left your boyfriend's side until it was time to go.

"remember to separate the laundry- red and white should not be together at all baby. we don't want a repeat of last time," you instructed hastily and trent nodded his head obediently as if he hadn't heard the same lecture over and over on the drive here.

"you know what just take it to the dry cleaner, it's less of a hassle."

"okay now--"

you cut him off once again, "and make sure that you lock the doors properly, and call jude if you need anything."

yep. he was undoubtedly going to miss this.

"what am I saying?" you groaned in complaint and put your palm to your forehead. "do not call jude. he should be the last person you call if you need something important."

trent couldn't help but laugh as he watched you endearingly, and truth be told he could watch you watch paint dry and never get bored. he knew how worried you were to leave him alone, it was the longest you two were going to be apart since you started dating three years ago.

so he never minded your little episodes like this whenever either of you had to leave because it was out of love and your genuine fear of him burning the house down. and it took a bit and the death stares from your group of friends to get you out of his embrace.

"good luck with your matches okay? I'll be watching so don't mess up!" you yelled out to your boyfriend who was a blushing mess when everyone decided to turn their attention on him.

he was just about ready to leave when he saw you enter the gateway, the smile still on his face but the second he turned his back he felt a pair of arms grip around his waist.

"I love you."

"you've been staring at the same picture for the past five minutes."

trent jolted at the sound of virgil's voice coming up from behind him. he didn't even bother to hide the fact that he was in fact staring at the same picture you had sent him yesterday. there was no denying that he was going insane.

sure you called whenever you had the chance and made sure to update each other throughout the day, but obviously it wasn't the same. the first week had been a breeze for trent, but a little harder for you since it took a bit of time to settle in without his presence but it happened gradually as you got too caught up in your trip.

two week. that's how long trent lasted, and he still had two more to go before you got back. it felt strange to come home after practice in the evening and not see you lying on the couch with your arms open for a hug, or to see you in the stands during practice with a loving smile on your face.

"everyone in the tunnel. let's go."

with the announcement and a pat on the shoulder from virgil, he let out one last heavy sigh and shook away any disruptive thoughts to move his focus to the match. they were playing fulham for the premier league cup today, right at Anfield which meant that he was counting on this match as a distraction.

you, on the other hand, couldn't wait for the match to be over. the stadium was booming with noise from the fans the second you entered and quietly made your way to the friends and family booth without any of the team members noticing.

"are you serious? what are you doing here?" virgil's wife, rike gasped when you slid in next to her. she hurriedly pulled you into a hug and laughed in disbelief.

"i got a little homesick," you answered breathily and rike couldn't help but give a knowing hum.

she took your hand into hers with a smile and faced the front, her eyes trailing on her husband as everyone did their warmups. "well, you were missed just as much. Seriously, i don't think I've ever seen trent this down. i wouldn't be surprised if he cried himself to sleep."

you couldn't help but burst into a fit of laughter at her last retort, knowing full well that he slept on your side of the bed just to feel somewhat closer to you. but hey, you couldn't judge him, you did the exact same thing when he was gone.

It wasn't long before the match started that you were once again fully immersed in it. Whenever you went to any of their matches you would wonder how rike put up with your endless screaming and complaining.

"klopp might have to sign you as manager after he retires," the older woman chuckled to herself as she watched you jump from your seat during trent's penalty that was nothing short from perfection even though it was technically an own goal.

by halftime, fulham was in the lead, 3-2 and you could practically feel the boys' stress radiating from the field. rike stayed with you during half-time since you couldn't see trent just yet, no matter how desperate you were but she did a good job at keeping you distracted.

If there was one thing you noticed, however, it was that trent didn't bother looking up at the box once the entire game which he always did when you came to watch them play. which for sure meant that he had no idea you were here but you were glad that his mood was lifted after he took the penalty.

It was the last three minutes of the game and it was tied 3-3, and you were on the edge of your seat. You were so stressed out that you had to take off your jacket even though it was anything but warm in the stadium.

you watched eagerly as the ball was passed back from the goalie, back to darwin, all the way to macca who finally passed it to trent, who successfully gave liverpool their finisher for the evening. you and rike were beyond ecstatic and probably looked like lunatics to everyone else in the booth but that didn't matter.

when you heard the whistle blow after the additional time was over you didn't waste a second and immediately sprinted down, out the tunnel and to the field. your brain was for sure on autopilot mode because you couldn't recall anything besides your feet carrying you to the exit.

you halted in your tracks for a moment when you felt the crisp air hit your arms, but you didn't care and needed nothing more than your boyfriend. for a split second, you made eye contact with dom but you gave him a look and he immediately shut his mouth that was nothing short of a smile.

you took one last deep breath and somehow wove your way through the crowd to end up where trent was talking to a member of the other team. You took your time and patiently waited behind your boyfriend until he was gone to tap his shoulder.

trent turned around, of course, his lips pursed and his face flushed red due to the adrenaline rush. It took a moment for him to register the fact that it was actually you and not someone playing tricks on him but the second you opened up your arms he was at a loss for words.

"are you just going to stare at me or-- ah!"

the latter. definitely the latter.

before you knew it, you were engulfed in one of the tightest hugs you've ever experienced. you couldn't help but melt at the familiar feeling of being in trent's embrace, knowing that you missed it way more than you originally thought.

trent pulled away from the hug to get a better look at you, completely disregarding the screams from the fans as well as the cameras that were going off. he didn't care because all he saw was you. all he wanted was you.

"what are you doing here? I thought you weren't coming home for another two weeks," he said exasperated and put his hands on your bare arms.

you gave him a simple shrug in response. "why would I want to see the eiffel tower for another two weeks when I could come home and be with you instead?"

that was enough to bring a cheeky smile to trent's face, "It was that boring huh?" he took your hand into his and led you into the tunnel where everyone else was.

his eyes wandered adoringly over your features, taking the time to fully let your presence sink in. he didn't admit it but he for sure was not going to let you leave him for more than a week from now on. If you wanted to go on a trip then he'd be more than happy to tag along, but no way was he going to suffer again.

"did you take my jersey with you?" His question made you look down at the red liverpool jersey you were wearing, his number flaunted at the back.

"what? just because I was watching your matches from a hotel room does not mean that I'm not gonna dress accordingly babe."

trent gave your hand a light squeeze. "oh I love a supportive girlfriend."

you lightly scoffed and turned your head to the front, where you saw curtis and Ibou making fun of harvey, probably about his height judging by the way they were pretending not to see him.

"I know you called jude."

trent's eyes widened a fraction, "it wasn't for anything serious!"

#trent alexander arnold x reader #liverpool fc #liverpool x reader #football imagine #fluff #trent alexander arnold fluff #blurb #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #footballer x you #cherrei writes

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writingjjfics · 3 months

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Pogues to the rescue!

Pairing: JJ Maybank x kook!reader, Platonic!Pogues x kook!reader

Summary: JJ and the Pogues come to rescue Y/n from her Kook family party.

Warnings: Kooks

Requested?: Yes! See request here!

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: Guess who's back? back again? It's moi! I apologize for how extremely long this took, life got in the way 🙂 also I did change the request a bit, and got some inspiration from the midsummers episode, hope that's okay! Oh and Sarah is not part of the Pogues for the sake of the story (not my gif)

The last few hours of your life have been a bore. You were stuck at this table with egocentric old kook people who could only talk about their 'perfect' lives and their well-succeeded grandchildren. You tried your best to show interest, but your mind kept drifting off. You nodded politely at them, and every so often, you mustered up a fake smile to make them think that you were listening to their boring stories.

When you noticed that their attention was no longer on you, which was hardly surprising considering how egocentric they all are, you quietly got up from the table and left. After quickly scanning the backyard in search of your mother, you, fortunately, spotted her in a conversation with her best friends. Taking advantage of the opportunity, you made your way inside the house to use the bathroom.

As you sat down on the toilet, you felt relieved. Not only because you could finally pee, but also after hours of miserably pretending to be anything close to a Kook, you could let your guard down here, even if it was just for a few minutes.

Taking your phone from your clutch, you check for any notifications that you might have missed in the last few hours. While scrolling through Instagram, you noticed your boyfriend had posted a video on his story. In the video, JJ was smoking his Juul, surrounded by the rest of the Pogues who were dancing and singing to some song in the background.

JJ's happy smile, as he hung out with the Pogues, made you feel a sense of joy for him. The Pogues are his true family and he deserves to be this happy and comfortable all the time. Sometimes you were jealous of their relationship. Even though your family has money and shows their love and care for you in their own, unique way, you've always felt like you don't quite fit in with them. It's as if you're the odd one out. At least the Pogues always have each other and their bond is unbreakable.

You snapped a quick selfie and sent it to JJ, showing him how extremely bored you were. After putting your phone back in your clutch bag, you let out a deep sigh, realizing you had to get back to the party before your mom would put up 'missing child' posters. However, as you reached for the door handle, you heard your ringtone go off. A picture you had taken of JJ at the beach during sunset a few weeks ago, filled your phone screen. A warm feeling spread through your chest as you answered the phone, grateful that he had taken the time to call you back.

"Party that bad, huh?", JJ chuckled as he spoke.

"If I have to listen to these fake people for a minute longer, I'll pull a van Gogh myself"

You could hear JJ snickering. "That's one way to answer that question"

"Can't you just hack into a system and send some emergency alert or something?", you whined.

"Honey, I'm definitely not as smart as Pope, but what I can do is try to sneak you away?"

"Tempting as that sounds, my mom would kill me"

"C'mon baby, we both know your mom loves her reputation too much to kill her daughter", JJ joked.

You rolled your eyes. "Very funny JJ, besides I don't want to be a burden to the rest of the Pogues."

You heard JJ scoff. Since knowing JJ, you've met the Pogues a few times, yet each meeting seemed to grow more awkward than the previous one. JJ always reassures you that the rest of the Pogues just have a hard time getting comfortable around the idea that he is dating a kook, or well just kooks in general, and that it's never because of your personality. "Before you know it, they will love you as much as I do", was what he told you occasionally. But you just can't help taking it personal.

"Y/n, stop being so stubborn, and let us help you. I want you here as much as you want to leave that party. Be ready in ten. I won't take no for an answer."

You were about to protest, but before you could, the distant chatter of the other Pogues in the background went silent, indicating that JJ had already ended the call.

After giving yourself a final look in the mirror and letting out another heavy breath, you opened the door and made your way back to the party outside.

Everyone was still engrossed in conversation, and it appeared that no one noticed you had been gone. It gives you a glimmer of hope that you might be able to slip away from the party without your parents noticing. However, at the same time, you can't help but recall a few years ago when you did the same thing, only to receive a month-long grounding from them.

After nervously looking ahead for a while, and making up different scenarios in your head, you suddenly feel a tap on your shoulder. Irritated, thinking it's one of your parents wanting to remind you to be more social, you turn around.

"You look like you could use another drink. Can I maybe offer you this one?"

In front of you stood JJ, dressed up as a waiter, holding a champagne glass. He gave you that annoying but charming smirk of his.

You took the champagne from him and chugged the entire drink, making JJ chuckle.

"Thanks, you always know exactly what I need babe"

You and JJ both laughed and you turned around looking for your parents. Your mother was still talking to her friends, while your father discussed work matters as usual.

"C'mon, let's go before my parents see us leaving". You were still nervous about the consequences, but decided that, that would be a problem for later. There's nothing you want more than to be with JJ right now.

JJ took your hand and quickly led you to the front of the house. Before reaching the gate, he suddenly stopped and gave you a kiss.

"Hi baby", he spoke softly.

You smiled. "Hi, Jay".

JJ gestured with his head towards the gate. "The others are right outside waiting for us." He squeezed your hand to reassure you that it was going to be okay. You nodded and followed him.

As you turned the corner, you saw the rest of the Pogues waiting next to the Twinkie. They were talking, but stopped abruptly when they saw the two of you approaching. Pope waved shyly towards you, while John B approached you enthusiastically. "That was quick"

"Yeah, I thought those kooks would give you more trouble", Kie said, rolling her eyes and emphasizing the words 'those kooks'. You saw Pope nudge Kiara. “Sorry, no offense to you of course”, she quickly realized her mistake. You smiled weakly and shrugged your shoulder. 'Well, luckily I don't see myself as a Kook'.

There was an awkward silence until JJ cleared his throat and walked over to the Twinkie to open the door. "Let's go back to the Chateau shall we?"

You got into the back of the Twinkie first, expecting JJ to follow you, but instead, it was Kie and Pope as John B and JJ got into the front seats having their own conversation. Kie sat beside you and turned toward you.

"Hey, I want to apologize if we ever made you feel unwelcome. We just had to get used to a new person in the group, but we see how happy you make JJ and that is the most important thing for us."

"Yeah, and you're real nice and fun to hang out with Y/n", Pope added.

You smiled, "Thanks, that means a lot to me."

"And I'm actually happy there is finally a girl in this group, I love these boys but I also really need some girl time", Kiara said making everyone laugh.

You locked eyes with JJ who was already smiling and gave you a wink. A few seconds later you heard your phone go off and saw that you received a text from JJ that said "I told you they were going to love you." You rolled your eyes at him, but chuckled nonetheless. You finally felt like you belonged there.

The rest of the night was spent hanging out at the Chateau, laughing, dancing, and getting to know the Pogues better.

As for your parents, you later found out that they had tried to call you many times that night, so you ended up being grounded again, but you really couldn't care less because JJ and the Pogues were helping you through it. They would always be there for you.

aaaah the end!! so so happy I finally finished a fic again. I was busy with my graduation project and had massive writers block, but I'm back! So if you have any requests or you just want to talk to me? LMK ❤️ Okay, love you byee x

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #jj obx #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x fem!reader #obx #outer banks #outerbanks #obx fanfic #obx fluff #reader x platonic!pogues #poguestyle

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woso-dreamzzz · 3 months

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Brewing with Beckie

Janine Beckie x Reader

Summary: You go on the podcast

"Hi, everyone. Welcome back to Brewing with Beckie. Today, we have a very special guest...my girlfriend y/n!"

You popped into the frame with a little smile and a mug. You lifted it to the camera and tipped your head a little in greeting. "Hi!"

A kiss was pressed to your cheek as Beckie shifted closer until your shoulders were pressed together so close that if it wasn't for the different colours of your shirts, nobody would be able to tell where you started and Beckie ended.

"So," Beckie said," This is, of course, my lovely girlfriend. We've got a little tradition on the podcast-"

"I know, baby," You said," I listen to every episode. You want to know what kind of coffee I've got." You swirled it teasingly and Beckie rolled her eyes.

"It's more for the listeners. I know what you've got in there."

"Oh, yeah?" You challenged," What have I got in here?" You snatched it away before she kind sniff at it.

"Hot chocolate," She answered easily," Because you don't like coffee and just yesterday you raved about getting that fancy hot chocolate mixture you've been looking for for weeks now."

You let out a little bark of laughter, tilting your head to rest against Janine's shoulder. "Okay...maybe you know me a bit well."

"That's actually one of the questions I've got. How long have we known each other?"

"Years," You said," We grew up next door." You lifted your mug and took a long sip. "We had rooms that faced each other. Do you remember when we used to try to mime to each other through the windows?"

Janine chuckled with a little nod. "And then we worked out that the locks on the windows were just for show and we could have talked to each other the whole time."

"My mum used to yell at you through that window, when we would keep her up by talking too loudly."

"I think she still blames me for your dip in grades that year."

You took another long sip and batted her hand lightly. "Enough about my mother. What's the next question? You've got quite the extensive list."

You were teasing but you knew that she had been preparing for this episode for a while now. You knew that she was sneakily looking at the piece of paper under the table that she was trying to hide from you.

"Hey!" Janine said," No peeking! That's cheating!"

"It's not a competition, baby! I can't cheat!"

"Next question! Ooh, I like this one! What was the first thing you noticed about me when we started dating?"

"The fact that I can be right next to you and you won't hear a thing but god forbid I make a little comment and you hear it from across the room," You replied drily though kept the little smile on your face.

"This was meant to be a cute question!" Janine complained even though she was laughing.

"What would you have preferred me to say?"

Janine shrugged. "I don't know, my eyes or something?"

"Baby, I noticed your eyes long before we started dating."

That made Janine puff up a little bit before she went back to consulting her list of questions. It went back and forth like normal on her podcast and soon your drink had gone cold and you were practically pressed up into Janine's lap.

Ever since you were little, you had been a physically affectionate person. You like to hold hands with people and be in their personal space. You counted yourself lucky that you had such an accommodating girlfriend who easily opened her arms for you to crawl into at the end of the day.

"I like this one too!"

"Babe, you wrote them. You don't need to try and puff up your own ego."

"This is the last question," Janine said," Can you at least let me have this?"

"Fine," You laughed," Go on. Ask away."

"What's the best memory you have of us together?" She was grinning at you and you kissed the smug look off her face.

"You know the answer."

"The viewers don't."

"Oh? So this is an announcement?"

"Only if you announce something."

You stole another kiss from Janine before flashing your ring at the camera.

"Last night. When you proposed, of course."

#woso x reader #janine beckie x reader #janine beckie #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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thebestofoneshots · 7 months

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Gilded Constellations | wolfstar x reader

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Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.2 K Warnings: none Prompt: Things finally start to make sense, maybe you'll finally discover one of the mysteries that have been surrounding you This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

ANNOUNCEMENT:

In a couple of weeks I'll make a Q&A to cellebrate Gilded Constellations reaching 100,000 K words. And I'd love for all of you to be a part of it. So send in your questions, they can be anything you want, things like: How did you get the idea? Where does inspo come from? writing tips (I mean I don’t know much but anyway), character design, fancast, fav characters, things about me, about my plot notebook, literally anything you want, ask away (just state: For Q&A event or something) <3

Chapter 14: Maybe I’m Amazed

Monday October 25th, 1976

You and Remus had a presentation today, but he wasn’t anywhere to be found. You waited near the door of the classroom, with your notes in your hands, looking over them while tapping your feet on the ground, toying with your ring, and turning to look at the hall every couple of seconds, hoping to see him miraculously arrive. But he didn’t, in fact, it was the second time that day people you expected to see were nowhere to be found.

You were also supposed to go flying with James and Sirius in the morning like you did every single day, but neither of the boys made it. You went up to knock on their room’s door, but nobody answered, and after waiting for a few minutes, you decided to go for the morning flight by yourself.

Professor Flitwick saw you at the door, looking nervous and smiled at you empathetically from his desk. When your class was just about to start you sighed and walked closer to him.

“Professor, I don’t understand what’s happening, I’m not sure if Remus will make it. He didn’t tell me anything, I haven’t seen him since yesterday and I–“

“It’s ok,” he said calmly “Mr. Lupin is sick, I was informed.”

“Sick?” You asked with a frown.

Flitwick nodded, “I believe he and some of his friends all ate something that upset their stomachs at Hogsmeade on Saturday, they’re at the nurses’ office.”

You opened your eyes wide, that was your lie. But if the boys really were at the infirmary, then it meant something had happened to them on their stupid prank last night.

You frowned, almost wanting to run off to see them, but resisted the urge to do so “What’s gonna happen to our presentation then? He’s worked so hard on it, I wouldn’t want him to lose his grade.”

“You can present with him next class,” he told you comprehensively “It’s ok Miss (Y/LN), take your seat, don’t stress too much about it. I know you’ll give a brilliant presentation once your partner’s feeling better.”

You nodded “Thank you, Professor,” you told him with a smile and went to take one of the seats.

The class started, Lily and Marlene had worked on their project together and they went first, talking about the properties of wordless magic and then making a very small presentation, teaching some volunteers to make sparks with their wands without saying a word. Tom and Marlene were next, and they gave a talk about the dangers of dark magic and so on. A couple other students asked for volunteers, and while in normal situations you’d have been among the first to raise your hand, today was an exception, you were a little too busy, tapping your feet under the desk and looking at the clock every couple of minutes.

At some point you decided you had to do something, so you took some parchment out and wrote a small note:

Hey Puppy! You all right? I missed you and Prongs on our morning flight today… Remus missed our presentation too, tell him Flitwick said we could present next class. Are you all really at the infirmary? Because I know for a fact it wasn’t something you ate… Unless you actually ate something last night, I wouldn’t put that past you lot, but I’m sure that’s not it. I’ll keep an eye out for your answer plane.

You read it over a couple of times and then started to bend it into a very small paper plane that you left over your desk. When class was over you used the same spell Remus had used at the beginning of the course so that your little plane landed close to Sirius.

It wasn’t until you were in the middle of transfigurations that a different paper plane landed over your desk, you carefully unfolded it and started reading:

Hey beautiful! Thanks for that strong vote of confidence! We didn’t actually eat anything bad. Remus says he’s sorry for missing the class, and that he’ll do your homework for a week to make it up to you, I’m jealous!

We really are at the infirmary though, last night’s prank went awry and we accidentally got attacked by Grindylows. We’re all right, Remus got the worst of it anyway… But we came to check on him first thing in the morning, that’s why we didn’t make it to the morning flight. Your rumour somehow got all the way to Poppy, and when we went to check on Remus she gave us some medicine and had us stay in the infirmary to check on us… so it’s basically your fault.

Anyway, you should still come see your poor boyfriend in the infirmary, pamper him with kisses and offer him some tasty treats… at least.

ps. Since I haven’t retrieved the ones from last week, that would mean you owe me six so far…

You smiled when you finished reading, Sirius was a total flirt, and you loved that about him. When you read over it though, you frowned, that was the second time Remus got hurt after a prank, and if they were attacked by Grindylows, there was no way they were just fine, those little creatures could be absolute savages, you’d know, since one time a friend at your older school had fallen on the lake and been attacked by those nasty little water beings, she had to be taken to the hospital wing, and stayed there for a week. Of course, Remus was bigger, stronger, and a more advanced wizard, since that had happened to her in 3rd year, but regardless, Remus must be pretty battered up, again.

Finally, you sighed and went back to trying to turn the quill you had in front of you into a bird. Not that you were doing too good at that either. You let out an exasperated groan after your 3rd try of only getting a beak and little legs to appear on the quill.

Professor McGonagall approached you “Everything ok Miss (Y/LN)?”

You nodded, the air of exasperation remaining regardless, “I’m really struggling to get this right,” you told her “This is the first time I ever done transfiguration, and no magic had been this challenging for me before, it’s just…”

McGonagall smiled understandingly “Would you mind if I got you a tutor? I know a couple students from your year that would be more than willing to help.”

“I… uh… I’m not really that close to everyone in my year…”

McGonagall raised an eyebrow, you were pretty much already a member of one of the Gryffindor friend groups, and the rumour that you and Sirius were dating was already spreading too “I was thinking Mr. Lupin could help, and from what I gather you’re already friends…”

“Oh… Remus? Yeah, we’re close!”

“Excellent, I’ll tell him once he’s back on his feet. Poor boy, he must be feeling pretty tattered up today.”

You nodded “Yeah, he shouldn’t have eaten that.”

“Eaten what?” She asked, confused.

You arched your eyebrows “The thing at Hogsmeade that made them all end up in the infirmary…”

“They all?” Minerva quipped “Who else is in the infirmary?”

“Sirius, James and Peter.”

“They are there?!” She asked, seemingly surprised. You frowned, how did McGonagall know Remus was in the hospital if she didn’t know the boys were there too?

“Isn’t that the reason Remus was in the infirmary?” You asked, rather confused.

“The reason he–? Oh right, yeah right, must have slipped my mind.” She said and stepped away.

You frowned, there were many things that did not make sense with Remus Lupin, you’d already accepted that, and moved on from it, since he was one of the best people you’d ever met, but this, this was just off. McGonagall was not the type of teacher to whom things just “slipped her mind”, and that was a fact. Unless she knew Remus had been in the infirmary for another reason, and if that reason was that he’d been attacked by Grindylows, then that would imply she knew about the boys’ prank and was covering for them, which made even less sense.

And today was not the first time things were weird, it was like some teachers knew something that you didn’t. And it was all somehow related to Remus. And you really did not want to pry, but your mind, being naturally curious, could not stop thinking about it. And it all seemed so familiar; like you only needed to find the one little string that would solve the entire mystery, and it was just there for you to reach out and pull, but somehow, you were trying to find the tail end with your eyes closed. Maybe Remus really did blindfold you the first time you met, but instead of using the physical blindfold, he’d used an intricate web of half-facts and untold tales. Of course, he didn’t owe you any kind of explanation, and it was not like you were going to ask but a part of you really, really wanted to discover the mystery.

You spend the entire class pondering all the little things that didn’t make sense about Remus Lupin, thinking of trillions of ways in which they could be connected to each other, but nothing seemed to make sense. No matter how much you racked your brain, you could not find the string to tie it all out. You were so focused in uncovering the mystery that you didn’t even realise when the class was over.

“Hey (Y/N)! You ok?” Tom said as he shook your shoulder, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You nodded “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” You said, but your head was pounding from so much thinking, and to be honest, you did not want to deal with divination class, so you corrected yourself “Actually, would you mind telling Spellman I’m feeling a little dizzy, and that I’m going to the infirmary?”

Tom gave you a look and nodded, the two of you stood together and started walking towards the door “And where are you actually going to?” He asked, curiosity getting the best of him.

“Hm? Oh, to the infirmary actually, I’ll just pass by the kitchens first.”

“The kitchens?” He asked confused as you both continued walking towards the stairs.

“I’m taking some food for the boys,” you explained, Tom nodded, but still looked confused “They got caught up in the excuse from yesterday and Poppy got them to stay in the infirmary to check on them.”

“So you’re just feeling bad as an excuse to go see your sweet boyfriend,” he teased.

You nodded “Yeah, and my friend who got attacked by Grindyllows.”

Tom frowned “Grindylows? At this time of the year?”

“Yeah, why?”

“It’s weird, when the lake starts to cool down they disappear.”

You frowned at that, yet another puzzle piece to solve, but by then Tom was already walking towards a different set of stairs “See you around, hope you feel better, I’ll tell Spellman where you went,” he said loudly. Tom really was the worst liar you’d ever met.

“Thanks Tom,” you managed to say before scurrying through one of the hall entrances, so people wouldn’t notice the weird exchange you’d had.

Once you got to the kitchens you knocked on the frame and asked the elves if you could have some food, they nodded and started preparing you some snacks to go, you asked around, hoping to find Nimbbletwist, but the elves told you that she’d been commission to something by Dumbledore that particular day. When they were done you thanked them profusely and waved goodbye. You grabbed the package of food and after placing the entire thing inside your backpack you started walking towards the infirmary.

Once you were next to the huge, half-opened doors, you slowly slipped inside, hoping not to cause too much of a stir inside, but the place was pretty much empty, other than the hushed whispers you heard at the end of the room. A curtain was covering the boys from your sight, and muffling their voices.

“We need to find a better way to deal with your furry little problem,” You heard Peter say “Moony’s been going pretty wild the past few times.”

“Ehm…” You cleared your throat, whatever the boys were talking about, the fact that they were whispering about in an empty room, meant that the conversation was secret enough for them, and you were not planning to eavesdrop on some of the nicest people you’d met. “Morning boys,” you said with an awkward wave.

Sirius smiled the second he spotted you, Peter looked like he’d seen a ghost, and Remus looked too tired to care much about you having shown up almost out of nowhere. But James was the first one to speak “Hey (Y/N)! Sorry we missed the morning flight.”

You nodded “Sirius told me all about your mishaps,” you said as you walked closer to them, you looked around trying to find a sitting spot, and when you didn’t you resolved to stay standing “Brought you guys some snacks.”

“You actually did?” Sirius asked with a dashing smile, eyes shining in content. His girl had brought him snacks, and she looked as lovely as ever while doing so. By then, you were already turning your backpack in front of you and pulling the little pack the elves had built for you. So he helped you hold it as you pulled the food pack and placed it on the bed besides Remus. They’d packed sausage rolls, pork pies, scotch pancakes, Jaffa cakes and tiny Bakewell tarts, Peter dug right into the sausage rolls, like he was starving.

“Poppy didn’t give you boys any food?”

“She gave us soup,” Peter said in between bites “It was so bland and tasteless, she said it’d make our stomachs feel better.”

“I thought it was good,” Remus said with a shrug.

“Yeah, you got the one with spices,” Peter complained “You should’ve said we had a headache or something instead.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Since when are headaches something 4 people can have at the same time?” You retorted.

Peter shrugged in response “A magical headache or whatever.”

“At least, thanks to you, we didn’t get in trouble for skipping class,” James said with a shrug.

“Exactly, that’s my girl!” Sirius said with a wink, then he grabbed your arm and pulled you onto his lap, you arched your eyebrow at him once you were comfortably sitting on him “You looked like you were tired.”

You laughed, shaking your head “Yeah, sure Puppy, if you say so.”

“Don’t think I’ve stopped counting,” he said as he wrapped his arms around you a little tighter, setting the two of you in a more comfortable position.

Finally, you turned to Remus, he wasn’t eating any of the things you’d brought, James was munching on a pork pie and even Sirius was enjoying a Bakewell tart, but Remus looked genuinely beaten up. He had a sharp gush on his face, and another one down his arm, probably many more underneath his clothes and bandages. Just when you started to pay attention to the open wounds, and realising how different they were from the ones your friend had gotten when she was attacked by Grindyllows, Sirius spoke again “You’re wearing your ring today,” he said pointing at it as he grabbed your hand to look at it.

“Found it in a drawer as I was getting ready in the morning,” you told him “seemed to match the mood of yesterday.”

“Because of the moon and the stars,” Sirius agreed, paying a closer look at your ring, you nodded, “It’s very beautiful,” he said, slipping it out of your finger and testing if it would fit in his pinky, it stood out among his thicker rings, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Won’t you eat anything?” Peter asked Remus as he munched on his fourth sausage roll.

“I’m not really feeling it,” Remus responded.

“Mmm… Actually–“ you said as you placed a cookie in your mouth to bring your backpack to your lap again. Sirius took the cookie from your lips and held it for you, you turned to him and whispered a small “thanks,” before you continued to rummage through your bags, “It’s here!” You said as you pulled out a chocolate bar. It was the same brand Remus always carried around, and you’d bought a few at Honeydukes over the weekend. You’d decided to always carry one in your bag, to offer to Remus when he was feeling off, just like he’d done for you several times. You handed it over to him.

The boy smiled as he grabbed onto it “Thanks love! Don’t deserve it after I failed you for today’s presentation.”

“Don’t be silly Rem, you had an accident,” you told him motioning to him on the bed.

“And where’s my chocolate bar?” Asked Sirius as he leaned his head over your shoulder to give Remus a better look.

“You don’t get one today Puppy, I only packed one in the morning, sorry.”

“And you gave it to Remus instead of me?” He teased, playing offended. “You do remember I am your boyfriend right?”

“Well, clearly Remus was the one to save all of your asses last night,” you said pointing at the bandaged boy, and then at the rest, who barely had a scratch on them “However the hell did you get into a fight with Grindylows?”

“We were trying to get some gillyweed,” Remus responded while he pulled on the paper of the chocolate bar to open it “for a special prank we wanted to do on the Slytherins.”

“With gillyweed?” You asked with a frown.

“For a potion,” James added “took the recipe from one of Grandpa’s old journals.”

You narrowed your eyes at James, but nodded, Who knows? the Potters are pretty much experts on potions, they’d know. “Did you get it?”

Remus shook his head “We were too busy with the Grindylows.”

“I could maybe help you–˝

“–No!” Remus, James, Sirius and Peter said at the same time. You closed your mouth at that, taken aback by their answer.

“Love, you did see Moony, right? Do you wanna end up like that?” Sirius reasoned.

“Well… I’m a good swimmer, I could scare the Grindylows away with bombarda or something–”

“–don’t worry about it,” said James “We decided we would buy it in a magazine and get it delivered, we don’t wanna have to go through that again,” he motioned to Remus.

“But thanks for offering,” Remus added “It’s very brave of you.”

You shook your head, “those stupid Slytherin boys have been getting on my nerves lately, whatever prank you do to them, I’d love to help.”

“They’ve bothered you again since the broom incident?” Sirius asked. A shiver ran down your spine as you remembered the way Evan had pulled you over the railing last night.

“Nothing I can’t deal with, they’re just a bunch of cowards.”

James looked at you with apprehension, he thought it was his fault that Barty had started to pick on you, after all the ball you threw at his face had originally been directed at him, not at you. You wondered if the boys had heard of yesterday’s commotion in the astronomy tower, they probably hadn’t, they wouldn’t be relaxed at all.

Sirius yawned from behind, closing his eyes as he leaned closer to you, resting his head over your neck. “You boys should go get some sleep,” you told them when you noticed that it wasn’t only Sirius who was sleepy, James’ shoulders were slumped, and he normally stood straight, while Peter was sluggishly munching onto his fourth sausage roll. “I’ll stay with Rem, I need to wait for Poppy to come anyway, I want something for my headache.”

“You’ve got a headache?” Remus asked with a frown, “Why didn’t you tell us earlier?”

You tried to shrug but stopped when you remembered Sirius still had his head over your shoulder “You looked a lot worse,” you said with a teasing smile.

He shook his head with a breathy laugh, “Don’t put yourself second luv, I’m fine, I’m strong! See?” He said as he raised his arm and as if to show off his muscles.

You laughed, he wasn’t lying, but it was still funny. “You sure you can stay luv? What about your classes?” Sirius asked.

“I’ll catch up later, it’s easy. It’s not like we have transfiguration.”

“Still having trouble with that?” Peter asked politely.

You nodded “That’s literally the cause of my headache, couldn’t get a feather to turn into a bird. McGonagall said she’d give me a tutor.”

“How delightful,” Sirius said ironically.

“My thoughts exactly,” you agreed, “but then she said it’d be Remus, so it’s fine, we’re already working together in so many other classes, he must be getting sick of my face.”

“Oh shut up, I would never,” he said as he broke off another square of his chocolate.

Sirius extended his hands towards him “Gimme soooome Moooony!”

Remus rolled his eyes, but extended his hand with a piece towards your boyfriend anyway, when their hands brushed against each other Remus hissed “What the hell Pads?” He said with a frown, looking betrayed.

Sirius looked at his hand, his eyes widened as he saw he was still wearing your ring, your silver ring. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to shock you.”

“Shock him?” You asked confused, that wasn’t the reaction you’d expect from someone who’d gotten an electricity shock. Let alone Remus’.

Remus nodded, “I’ve got a small cut in my hand,” he lied “It was rather unexpected.”

You looked at him with a bit of a frown, you hadn’t seen any cuts on his hand. James suddenly stood up and clapped, gathering everyone’s attention “Well, if I don’t move now, I’m falling asleep on this chair. Pete, Pads, you coming along?”

While you turned your head to look at James, Remus threw a look at Sirius, who frowned apologetically and mouthed “I’m sorry, I forgot.”

“I’m coming,” Peter said, standing up after James. “Need anything from the dorm?” He asked Remus.

He shook his head “I’ll catch up with my homework later.” He responded.

“I’ve got a couple of books here in my bag, we can read something while they go sleep.” You offered your friend with a smile.

“Sounds great!” Remus responded with a smile.

“Nerds!” Sirius teased.

“Pads?” Peter asked, “You coming too?”

Sirius nodded, burying his head on your back as he hugged you tighter.

“You don’t have to go,” you told him since he didn’t look like he wanted to let go of you just yet.

“Why don’t you come nap with me instead?” He mumbled, voice a little muffled since he still had his head pressed to your back. “You smell really nice today.” Truth be told, Sirius thought you smelled nice every day, but with some of the dog qualities still lingering on him after the previous hours of being a dog, he was both extra sensitive to smell, and extra clingy of his human too, not that you knew any of it.

“Let the poor girl breathe mate!” Peter teased. Sirius just groaned in response.

“I’m gonna stand up luv,” he told you, you were about to stand, but he just stood up while still holding onto you, and once he was up, he slid to the side, and dropped you right back on the chair. Well then, I guess that works too, you thought.

“Bye Puppy,” you told him as he walked towards his friends. He raised his hands, showing 9 fingers up and raising his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes, but also realised he was still wearing your ring on his pinky finger “Oi my ring!”

“I’m keeping it as collateral,” he told you, “‘least until you pay up what you owe.” You gave him an amused smile and shook your head as he left.

“What do you owe him?” Remus asked once the boys were gone.

“He hasn’t told you about that yet?” You asked casually “says he doesn’t like being called Puppy–“

“–that’s a lotta crap.”

You laughed “Yeah, well he charges a kiss for every time I call him that.”

Remus raised his eyebrows, now he was amused “he’s just taking advantage of you love…”

“Is he though?” You said back with a little smirk “The way I see it is a win-win situation. He gets to be all flirty and I get to kiss his pretty lips.”

“Touché,” the boy agreed, he too thought Sirius had pretty lips “Can I tease him with the nickname too?”

“All you want,” you replied with a smile “if he tries to kiss you, though, don’t blame me for it.” You both laughed, and a comfortable silence followed, then you remembered you still had books inside your bag and pulled them out, setting them on the bed beside him. He grabbed the one at the top when you noticed which book it was, you pulled it from his hands. “You can’t read that one.”

“I can’t read… A Wizard's Handy Handbook of Spells?” He asked as he read the cover name from your hands.

“It’s not that,” you added, holding it tightly between your arms. “It’s… not actually A Wizard's Handy Handbook of Spells, I charmed the cover.” He arched an eyebrow and tried to take it from your grasp, you pulled back but it was too late, he had it in his hands again. Remus had an awful lot of energy for someone who had been badly hurt just a couple of hours ago. “Remus, give me that!”

“I wanna know why you charmed the cover first,” he said while dangling the book in the air.

You looked at him with a frown and jumped forward to try and grasp the book from his hands, but he pulled it back, to the side of the bed. “Remus!”

“Am I gonna have to read it?”

You stood up, and extended your hands over him, to try and get the book that was on the other side of the bed, but your feet got trapped with your backpack strap and you ended up falling over Remus. He groaned as your body crashed over a particularly nasty bruise. Your scent filled his nostrils from the closeness, Sirius was right, you smelled awfully nice, a little like him too.

“Shit Rem, I’m sorry,” you said standing up as soon as possible “I didn’t mean to–“ The brusque movements had caused his shirt to rise up slightly and you actually saw the nasty bruise your body had crashed against, you looked at it with a concerned frown and then back at your friend “Remus…”

He averted your gaze, he did not like being pitted “I’m fine.” He said once he turned back to you, using his free hand to pull down his shirt again “I’m strong, remember?”

“Yeah, someone falling over a bruise hurts, no matter how strong…”

He shrugged, he’d definitely had worse than you falling over him “You’re light, didn’t hurt much.” You looked at him, sighing “and you smell nice, no wonder Sirius wants to have you on his lap all the time.” Finally, you laughed, shaking your head as you stared at your friend. Remus realised you had a really nice laugh as you did, he shook his head from the trance of staring, he wasn’t sure he’d ever found a girl as pretty as you. “Will you tell me what kind of book you were trying to hide from me, or will I have to figure it out myself?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s a spicy romance novel,” you said avoiding his gaze, he smiled diverted. The more you know, he thought. “It was recommended!” You added.

“Yeah, sure.”

“It was!” You insisted “By your little Ravenclaw girlfriend, actually”

“Nina Blythe?!” he asked in disbelief.

You nodded “Are you sure you don’t want to date her? She’s clearly into the good stuff.” He gave you a look and you laughed, Nina was beautiful, but she definitely still had a baby face, like Remus had said when you told him she had a crush on him.

“She’s not really my type.”

“Which is…?”

“None of your business, of course.” He replied sassily, and then changed the subject “How spicy?” He asked, curiosity taking the best of him.

You shrugged “I’ll tell you when I get to the spicy part,” you told him with a shrug, taking the book from his hands, he let you do it without any fuzz this time “But um…” you pointed at one of the other books on the bed “this one’s good, you’d like it.”

“Is it also spicy?” He teased.

“Remus!” You complained, “Not every single book I read is spicy!”

He shrugged “Wouldn’t shame you if you did.”

You rolled your eyes and let out a breathy laugh. “It’s not spicy, but it is really good.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he said, taking the book and opening on the first page. Soon enough the two of you were comfortably reading. You were so engrossed in your book that you’d totally forgotten the initial reason you’d gone there. But as you continued flipping pages, it was like the string you had been trying to reach earlier was finally there, shining brightly for you to take it, and tie all the mysterious facts into one sole explanation. As your eyes moved through the words in the book, the description of the male lead started to resonate with you…

Remus was strong. Remus had a lot of scars and bruises all over his body, and they were definitely not caused by Grindyllows, he always carried around a calming draught and had other rather strong painkiller potions in his room as well, he tended to stay away from you when you wore your silver ring, literally jumping from your grasp when you touched him with it on one time, and was also visibly mad at Sirius when he brushed over his fingers with it on, as if they both knew something you didn’t –electric shock, my ass.

McGonagall knew he was in the infirmary, no, she expected him to be in the infirmary today, yesterday was full moon.

When you told him that he could get the Fluxweed he said he was good at catching so he switched with you, he would’ve had to harvest it on the full moon. All the boys got really suspicious during the full moon, and the two times you’d seen the full moon happen in the castle, Remus and all the boys had disappeared. Peter was talking about “a furry little problem” just before you cleared your throat earlier. James had joked about his romance novel being called “The Beast Within.”

In the boggart class, when you got a werewolf, all the boys had tensed up, even the way Lily had approached you, constantly looking back and forth between him and you.

You looked up at him, Remus looked tired, Remus had a great sense of smell, Remus got a lot more irritable around this time of the month, Remus was ripped even if he didn’t look like the type to do much exercise, in fact, you’d never seen him do exercise. Remus Bogart had been the moon. Remus was right in front of you, looking like he’d been up all night and yesterday was full moon.

Remus’ nickname… Remus’ nickname was fucking Moony!

YESTERDAY WAS FULL MOON.

Finally seeing clearly every single thing that didn’t make sense in your head, all the half-told tales and the lies and the inconsistencies, “You’re a werewolf…” you mumbled, almost in a whisper.

He had been too distraught with the book to notice, so he looked up at you “Sorry, what was that, luv?”

Your head started swirling with fast thoughts, Remus hadn’t told you himself. Remus probably wanted his lycanthropy to be a secret. Remus had gone to great lengths to hide it. You’d barely met him a couple of months ago and you were sure most people didn’t know about his condition, other than a few teachers, the boys and, maybe Lily. She probably knows, in the bogart class, she seemed alarmed. But Marlene, Mary, Beth? They probably have no clue. What right did you have to know before the people who’d met him years ago? Whoever the hell were you to butt in on this boy’s life? Even if he’d become one of your closest friends. I do not want to make Remus uncomfortable. I do not want Remus to hate me for prying. “I.. uh.. Do you like golf?” You improvised, almost cringing at yourself for how stupid your question had been.

“Golf?” He asked with a frown.

“Aha…” you continued “the muggle sport, Golf. With uhm.. sticks and small balls,” you then made a little golf swing with your hands.

“Yeah, I know Golf,” he responded, still confused “Never played it tho.”

“Me neither,” you responded honestly “This character though,” you pointed to the book “Seems like- very obsessed with it.”

Remus frowned and leaned forward on the bed, to try and get a glimpse of the book, you remembered that you were literally on the page about the scars on the werewolf’s body and you instantly dropped the book. It closed shut on the floor. You leaned down “Oh no, I lost my page.” Maybe you were a worse liar than Tom in the end.

Remus arched an eyebrow as he saw you leaning on the floor, you looked rather desperate.

“You okay?” You nodded and sat back on the chair. “So… how was it? spicy?”

“Not much so far,” you responded honestly “just very in-depth descriptions of the male lead’s toned abdomen from the time they went to swim on a lake together.”

Remus nodded, maybe he’d have to borrow the book from you at some point. “And you’re liking it?”

“Plot’s good, yeah. Very enlightening.”

“Enlightening?” He asked, not quite understanding how abs would be enlightening, but who knows, maybe they are.

“Mhm…” you said when you realised the slip-up “What about your book?” you decided to drag the subject away from the spicy werewolf book and onto the one Remus had instead.

“I’m loving it, actually. I didn’t know you had such great taste in books.”

You smiled at the compliment “The portrait of Dorian Gray is an absolute classic, it has some of the most killer quotes I’ve read in my life.”

“Nowadays people know the price of everything–“ he started.

“–and value nothing…” you finished the quote for him, “And there are so many others, you won’t be able to stop.” You told him with a smile, “Like… the only way to get rid of temptation, is–“

“–to yield to it.” He said at the same time as you did, a certain glimmer in his eyes when he did.

Out if nowhere the images of the kiss you’d had at Marlene’s party came back to Remus, he remembered how soft and gentle you’d been, he remembered how your hand over his shoulder had felt, how kind your lips had been to his, how you’d tasted of fresh berries and potions, how after the kiss was over you looked genuinely pleased but cracked a joke to ease the tension, how contagious your laugh had been… how sweet you smelled that day, always with a hint of Sirius’ scent from how close you were to each other. What the hell is wrong with me? She’s dating Sirius! She’s dating Sirius –my crush best friend– Black, he thought. He snapped himself out of it as soon as he could, coughing up a couple of times to clear his throat.

You looked at him, with a bit of concern and stood up, quickly walking towards the nightstand to pour some water on a glass and hand it over to him, he took it, fingers brushing against your small hands. He cursed himself for feeling something when they did, he’d rather feel nothing at all. Why must you be so kind?, he thought as you waited for him to finish drinking, to put the glass back in his place. “Thank you,” he mumbled.

You just smiled kindly “That’s what friends are for.” No, he thought, the boys were rarely as attentive as you were, and Lily, well Lily rarely visited after the full moon, even if she always took a moment to ask if he was feeling alright. Maybe that was why he was feeling so weird all of a sudden, he just wasn’t used to being cared for the way you cared for him. He then started to wonder if you were that nice to everyone, or only to your closest friends, he wanted to know if you also carried around Peter’s or Prong’s favourite treats in your bag, or if you had ever given chocolate to Tom, Alex or Teddy, if you borrowed books to Lily, or if you laughed along Nina the same way you did with him, he felt a tiny pang of jealousy when he imagined those things happening. Remus, stop it! he told himself, by then you’d already sat back in your seat, and found yourself engrossed in your book. Or at least you were pretending to be, in really you were still cursing yourself for asking if he liked golf.

When you noticed he was staring you turned to him with a diverted smile “Do I have something in my face?”

He seemed to be snapped out of his own thoughts “What?”

“You were staring,” you told him, pretending to be uninterested as you still looked at the book, in reality, you were wondering if maybe he’d heard you ask if he was a werewolf and if he was considering how to kick you out of his life for butting in on his private business.

“Ah…” he acknowledged “I wasn’t…. I was thinking of last night’s accident,” he lied.

“Of course,” you responded, “Grindylows must’ve been horrifying.”

He nodded, absentmindedly and the two returned to your respective books.

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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