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coconut-cluster · 2 years

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The only thing that comes up in his head are flashes of a party, people bumping into him and music playing too loud and Roman and Remus assuring him they’ll all head out soon. Some frat party, if he remembers correctly, that Janus was as annoyed at attending as Logan was. Logan just disliked parties in general; Janus, though, he spent the night in a corner, locked in conversation with Logan or Remus or Patton, determined to avoid that ex of his-

Oh.

Oh, good Lord.

“It’s Aaron! We met at that party a couple months ago?”

Yeah, no shit, Logan nearly says, pressing his lips together to stop himself. Remus is rubbing off on him.

Aaron’s voice, strident and grating in his ear, brings back clearer memories of the party. Roman and Remus had insisted they all go - Roman was trying to interview some guys for his arts column in the campus newspaper, as if frat boys half drunk on spiked Koolaid were going to give him an insightful perspective on masculinity and corruption in Shakespeare’s Hamlet - and Remus just wanted to set a few roaches loose in the frat house, much to Virgil’s amusement and Patton’s distress.

When the twins invited them, Logan's first instinct was to refuse. He had a test the next week, and a project due the week after that he’d barely started (and call him pretentious, but he probably had better things to do than spend his Friday night in a house that hadn’t seen a vacuum cleaner in months).

But then Janus had said yes in that idle, amused tone, like he definitely had better things to be doing but would go regardless. A pang of something sharp hit Logan - betrayal, maybe, as ridiculous as that was, or the image of the five of them having fun without him and flashes of laughter behind his back - and before he could think better of it, he just rolled his eyes and said yes, too.

Admittedly, it wasn’t as bad as he convinced himself it would be on the ride over. He ended up in a corner with Patton and Janus, although Patton disappeared periodically to greet people he knew - club members, classmates, old friend-of-a-friends, Logan lost track of all the relations halfway through the night. After the third instance of duck-and-go, he resorted to peeking over the crowd every so often to find messy hair and pushed-up glasses weaving through the crowd, and raised a hand to wave Patton back over before he got swallowed in the mass of drunk college students.

Janus stayed near him the entire time, though. He’d wrinkled his nose at the red solo cups shoved in their faces when they walked in and refused to drink the cheap wine coolers in the kitchen, so he just leaned against the wall beside Logan, nursing a lemonade and muttering acerbic commentary between the million-dollar smiles he gave anyone who walked up to them. Logan listened more than he responded, but Janus didn’t seem to mind. He looked down periodically at where Logan perched on the arm of the couch next to him, as if checking for his attention, and continued his anecdotes unfazed. Logan didn’t mind, either. He’d never say it out loud, but he liked the sound of Janus’ voice. It reminded him of black coffee, smooth and bitter, and he’d much rather be drinking black coffee than whatever sour cocktail was in his cup now.

...He was a little tipsy.

Despite their rivalry - Logan took another sip of his drink and swallowed the word with it, because oy vey, it was starting to annoy him - he was glad Janus stuck around when all the others scattered through the house. The music was loud and people kept brushing past him, knocking against his knees and barely catching their drinks before they sloshed over onto him, and he was glad to have at least one familiarity nearby, something to ground himself with. He watched Janus’ face closely as he talked, eyeing his freckles and catching glimpses of sharp canines, connecting expressions to the ones he saw every day across a library table and stacks of textbooks.

Which meant he noticed the second Janus’ face fell.

“Shit,” Janus hissed, nearly spilling his drink as he spun around to face Logan entirely, though he was closer to facing the wall than anything. “Shit, Jesus-”

“What?”

“Nothing. Nothing, don’t-” Logan glanced to the door, and the sound Janus made was a novel combination of alarmed and exasperated as he grabbed Logan by the shoulders and turned him to face the wall, too. It was not a comfortable position on the arm of the couch. “Don’t look. Do not. That- what house are we at?”

“Alpha Delta Alpha.” Janus gave another noise in the back of his throat, edging far more toward alarm than the first. “You didn’t see that when we came in?”

“Obviously not!”

“They have a glowing sign-”

“Logan.”

The first name shut him up like Janus knew it would, and he sat silently, pretending to sip his drink while Janus stared very intently at his blank phone screen and snuck glances from the corner of his eye around the room.

“Shit. I hate frats.” He took a swig of his lemonade like it had anything but sugar and too much water to help ease his nerves, and his nose wrinkled again when he swallowed. It was oddly endearing for someone cursing so virulently under their breath. Logan took another sip to cover the smile tugging at his lips. “God, even their lemonade sucks. This place sucks. I should’ve- damn it, where did Patton go?”

A voice rose over the crowd, strident and grating. Janus’ eyes snapped to the mass of people.

“Who is it?” The mismatched gaze fell to him, still overly alert, and grew narrow when Logan took another idle sip. “That you’re avoiding, I mean.”

“Someone’s nosy tonight.”

“Someone’s avoiding the question.”

Narrow eyes grew narrower. “An ex.” Logan’s even, probing expression must have faltered, because Janus glanced to the crowd and back to him before adding swiftly, “From high school. We broke up years ago.”

“Oh.” He looked over his shoulder at the group behind them. Janus didn’t stop him this time. After a minute of the crowd shifting, he saw a girl and boy in matching A∆A shirts near the front door, chatting in raised voices over the music with the people around them; the girl had long blonde hair done in braids, and her cheeks were pink with blush and the buzz of whatever she was drinking from the can in her hand. She was pretty, Logan supposed, although he didn’t have a very good metric for that kind of thing. Or for girls in general.

“Oh,” he said again, eyeing the pair idly. He’d never considered what Janus liked in other people - it never occurred to him to worry about it, and his mind was just fuzzy enough to let that thought slip past without analysis. He didn’t think he expected blondes.

“Yeah.” Janus stared, too, although his side-eye was far more subtle than Logan’s dazed observance. “Three years later, and he’s still a prick.”

...Oh.

The boy next to Blonde Braids was at least a foot taller than her, and several inches taller than the guys he was talking to over her head. The LED lights lining the ceiling cast a blue halo over his hair, dark and untousled despite the hand he kept running through it - he held his drink with his other hand, though, so the ridiculous amounts of gel in his swept-back style had its drawbacks. He had a nice nose, though. Sharp. Good... bone structure. Logan was a little dizzy.

“His voice is annoying,” he finally said.

“Tell me about it.”

“...He’s a frat boy.”

“Yes.”

“That’s a little embarrassing for you, Peters.”

“I know.”

Logan took another sip - he meant to fake drinking several minutes ago, but he got distracted, and now the taste had seeped into his brain, turning his thoughts vignetted. He blinked the haze from his eyes and focused them again on the boy, an odd thrill running down his spine when Janus gave a heavy sigh and turned to study him instead of the ex by the front door. He took another sip and drowned the spark.

The rest of the night passed in a bit of a blur. He barely remembers Janus scowling at the crowd and the figure cutting through it; he kind of remembers a greeting, the name Aaron and a handshake that tried too hard to be firm, clear in the moment but fuzzy in recollection, and a prickle in his chest at being called buddy one too many times in the exchange.

But he remembers perfectly - all too clearly - that voice, conceit spilling over the edges of his words and leaving a sour taste in Logan’s throat, worse than whatever concoction Janus had since taken from his hands, and a vein of mockery that made Janus’ mismatched gaze narrow into a scalding glare.

Fast forward a few months and two weeks of the cold shoulder, and that god-awful voice that was now over the phone. With Janus.

“Aaron,” Logan deadpans. “From the party. Janus’ ex. Am I remembering correctly?” Ex comes out a bit like an accusation, as if Aaron needs reminding on who exactly he is. (Logan is happy to provide.)

Aaron gives a marveled sound, something between a laugh and an exclamation, something inarguably derisive. Logan is not a violent person, but smashing a plate sounds appealing right now. “Good memory!”

“Thank you. Where’s Janus?”

Another laugh that makes his blood boil. “Hey, no need to rush, no one’s going anywhere! He’s right here.” There’s a pause, a beat of near silence - Logan can just hear the white noise of driving, the hum of an engine and quiet thumps of speedbumps and potholes, so he guesses he’s on speaker now - and then Aaron prompts, “Say hi to your friend, Jan.”

Logan’s free hand curls into a fist on his desk. He’s not sure which part is frustrating him most, exactly - Aaron’s condescending tone, Jan, or the fact that Janus has been avoiding him for two weeks and has, apparently, decided that his mind-numbingly irritating ex-boyfriend is better company to keep. Maybe all of it. Probably all of it. If he holds his phone any tighter, it might snap.

Okay, so calling Janus was probably a mistake, he’ll admit that. It was an impulsive decision in the first place. He’s not sure why he thought it would actually help. A small part of him hoped that maybe, possibly, upon picking up, Janus would explain why he’d been avoiding Logan for weeks, and Logan could give a careful, comprehensive apology for whatever it is he’s done wrong, and they could get on with life as it was before. A smaller part hoped Janus would forget it all and greet him as usual.

(Every part remembers the feeling of mismatched eyes studying him over a red cup, across a library table, and the feeling of a drowned spark still burning.)

Instead, he’s listening to a frat boy shove Janus’ phone to him in the passenger seat while Logan stares at his wall like an idiot. He’s felt like an idiot far too many times in the last two weeks already, but now that he’s here, he finds he can not make himself hang up.

There’s some muttering that barely makes it over the phone, low and brief, and then, distantly, he hears a quiet, “Hey, Logan.”

And the first name makes his thoughts screech to a stop. Just like Janus knows it will.

The restless tapping against Logan’s desk stops. Janus doesn’t sound smug, like he expected- although it’s hard to tell what he does sound like, because his voice barely makes it through the receiver. As far as Logan knows - and he knows very well - Janus’ quiet voice is almost entirely reserved for snide remarks under his breath or gossip he’s heard in the halls and shares in a hushed tone with the others. It is not for greetings. It is most certainly not for Logan. The irritation burning his face tapers out as quickly as it came, replaced with a worm of concern in his chest.

Instead of saying what he truly wants to - instead of Hello, Janus, are you okay, Janus, why haven’t you talked to me in weeks, Janus, your absence has rendered me useless and I’ve coped by wallowing in my own misery like some pathetic romance protagonist - his mind goes blank and he blurts, “We have a project due tomorrow.”

The phone is silent.

“It, um...” He looks around his desk, leaning forward in a rush to sift through the mess of paper and textbooks, searching for the work he’d done already like it will make a difference to have in front of him. “It’s for Memory. Human Memory. It’s a presentation, remember? You- uh, you said you’d come over,” he lies. He can’t explain why, but he lies through his teeth, and prays it’s believable to Aaron, even if Janus can catch a fib in his sleep. “To help finish it.”

Concern ignites into a brutal cocktail of stress and relief as Janus plays along immediately.

“Oh,” Logan hears him remark, sounding genuinely marveled, “that’s right. I was going to come after my shift at the café, but someone-” Aaron scoffs- “interrupted my commute home-”

“It’s great talking to you again, bud,” Aaron says, and the faint rumbling of the car cuts off so abruptly that Logan flinches. He’s not on speakerphone anymore, but he can hear Janus say something, his voice sharp, and Aaron clears his throat over it. “Me and Jan are going to a party, and I’d invite you, obviously, but parties don’t seem like your thing. No offense. Have fun with your project!”

Logan holds the phone to his ear several moments after Aaron hangs up. His arm feels stiff, like he hasn’t moved it in far too long, even though he only picked it up minutes before.

Janus played along. Janus has not spoken to Logan in two weeks, let alone offered to come over to his house for a project either of them could finish in their sleep, and still, he played along with the worst lie in the history of lying (and from Logan of all people). Logan thinks again of the party, Janus’ alarm and frustration and the vague memory of being ushered out past a hand reaching for his arm, of Janus staying back to snap a warning before storming out of the house and riding home with him and Patton in fuming silence.

Logan stares idly, frozen, at the mess of notes and Post-its in front of him, until his eyes land on the coffee cup sleeve at the edge of his desk where his name is doodled out in Janus’ perfect scrawl. It’s a cursive remnant of what Logan knows now was endearment, no matter how smugly Janus cloaked it. Of concern.

When he finally sets the phone down, his mind is perfectly clear for the first time in two weeks.

He is out the front door before Patton can ask where he’s going.

#uni au #loceit #logan sanders #janus sanders #i have never had alcohol please ignore any inconsistencies with real life here #this is about fake gay people just suspend your beliefs for a bit #lexi writes

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rabbityfrogs · 4 months

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The Constellation Stele from the Desolate Isles has been noted of particular importance to scholars due to both it's miraculous survival through the ages, and due to the near perfect match of it's constellations to our own. The text inscribed thereon reads "These are the stories that live in our stars"

Upon completion of the poll, am going to be sharing stuff for the cypher !! I have shared the translation of the cypher with this one, but I will not share any more translations to let yall try to figure it out yourself! There is going to be a bit of Funky World Building™ but I'm not currently planning for there to be like a full story or anything. maybe I might make a story in this world one day ! but probably won't for this right now

The Cypher is called Te'Thalu (it doesnt mean anything i just thought it sounded funky, pronounced tay-THA-loo), each symbol in the cypher correlates to either a letter, digraph, or symbol in English!

#rabbity arts #art #my art #Te'Thalu #my funky cypher :D #i had a lot of fun making it #and am excited for yall to see it and later on try to figure out what each symbol represents !#i hope that yall have fun too :D #also please ignore any temporal anachronisms or inconsistencies #it will be the same cypher for both modern and historical writing #even though in actuality it would have likely evolved into a new form or language

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battery-anon · 4 months

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aspryn, how do you feel about taclus' assumption about your lack of autonomy? he said that minthy forced you to see her after a "misunderstanding," which apparently was a prank. talcus seemed very quick to gloss over what that was, so if possible, could you clear that up?

also, how would you say minthy acted during your <3< relationship? again, talcus was very quick to call it controlling without naming specifics, so i'm inclined to hear your side before making a decision.

ooc btw she is not beign nicer becuase she likes aspryn moar she is beign nicer as a waey to get answers :skull:

my lack of what ? hold on let me goergle that ?

meyenthy never forced me to see her eye dont theyenk ? eye asked for her help weyeth the battery theyeng ? eye theyenk thats the meyesunderstandeyeng/prank ? yeah eyet keyend of was both those theyengs ? you can read back on my blog ? eye theyenks eyets tagged as the saga or sometheyeng ?

meyenthy ? please do not read theyes part ?

meyenthy eyes a very bad keyemeseyes ? eye dont theyenk eyets controlleyeng ? were just worlds worst peyetch couple ? weve never had much hate and mostly just care about each other ? eye guess to talcus that meyeght seem controlleyeng ? sure shes annoyeyeng but she also eyes so helpful and just ? ? ? eye leyeke her a lot ?

leyesten eyem at fault for most of theyes ? eye dont theyenk meyenthy or talcus should be blamed ? eye steyell leyeke meyenthy and eyet hurts to talk to talcus but eye dont theyenk eyet eyes a bad troll ?

eyef you need a troll to take the blame peyeck me ? please ?

#(ooc: i have made so many mistakes. please ignore any inconsistances. the pronouns and talcus helping. am the forgettor and the retconner)#(ooc: its okay i also want to give her answers. however. gotta be secretive. no but i really like these asks yes please let me share my lor #no one would know so much without pressure)

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luvjunie · 11 months

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— broken promises

pairing: earth 42 miles x fem!reader

summary: while earth 42 miles comes off a lot tougher than 1610’s based off his cold demeanor and his trauma induced apathy, somewhere under that hard shell, he’s still the sweet boy he used to be and wants love just like anyone else. miles is aged up to 17 in this, simply for the plot! wc: 2,640

contains: spoilers!!! angst to fluff

word bank: “mi vida” - my life, “mi amor” - my love

playing now: Wasted Love Freestyle by Jhene Aiko

You and Miles have been dating for 7 months now, and lately he hasn’t been around as much as he’d like to, for obvious reasons. Well, not obvious to you. You still don’t know that Miles is the Prowler, and he’s intent on keeping it that way.

It’s the third time he’s flaked on plans he arranged himself this month, and he can tell you’re beyond tired of it with the way you just blew his phone up.

— Miles POV —

Miles’ phone buzzes in his pocket but he decides against checking it, marking it off as something unimportant. He’s already accepted a job from his Uncle and a distraction wouldn’t do him any good right now.

8:03 PM

Mi Vida: please don’t tell me you’re doing this again bro.

Mi Vida: this is a joke, right?

Mi Vida: hello?? you were supposed to be outside thirty minutes ago.

Mi Vida: Miles Gonzalo Morales I swear to GOD if I don’t hear your motorcycle revving outside in the next five minutes so help me.

*buzz buzz*

Ignored.

*buzz buzz*

He kissed his teeth, lashes fluttering in aggravation and air puffing through his nostrils at the continuous buzzing against his leg. His shoulder fell to the side a bit as he reached down into his pocket to grab his phone while he climbed up the stairwell, following his uncle. Seeing your contact name on his lock screen, his brow raised as he read over the message, then they bunched together in the middle of his forehead incredulously, the tone of your texts causing his strides to falter.

Miles was genuinely confused for a moment, trying to think back on if he’d done anything to upset you, until the memory of him assuring you he wouldn’t do this again slapped him across the face harder than his mom did that one time he’d cursed at her on accident. The two of you had a date planned for tonight, and he swore to you he’d be there this time, fifteen minutes early at that, even though he knew there was a big chance he wouldn’t be able to make it all. It was selfish of him to promise something he couldn’t guarantee, knowing how demanding the other factors in his life were, but he was so tired of disappointing you, and how happy you looked when he told you you guys would finally get to spend some time together really had him thinking he could make it work this time.

Eyes falling shut for a beat, a heavy sigh leaves his lips, tongue darting out to dampen them as he quickly tries to think of something to respond with that won’t piss you off more than you already are.

He texts you back: sorry Mami, something came up yk how it is. i got you tomorrow tho fasho

Yeah. Real smooth.

*buzz buzz*

Mi Vida: yk what, just forget it, Miles.

Damn, she called me by my first name? I definitely fucked up this time. He thinks to himself.

Mi Vida: whoever you’re with is clearly more important to you than what we got goin on, so it’s cool. stay where you at, i’m done

Shit.

His heart beats a little faster in his chest, the sensation a semblance of something he hadn’t felt in years. Fear. He texts back as fast he can, head snapping up to see he’s fallen behind his Uncle, and he hurriedly jumps a few stairs before he comes to a stop again.

Miles: done??? the fuck you mean you done?

You don’t respond fast enough for his liking, so he double texts.

Miles: baby stop playin. you trippin it ain’t even like that at all

Mi Vida: i’m deadass. don’t call my phone.

He utters a string of curses under his breath, alerting his Uncle who had already noticed he was falling behind when he heard the inconsistency of his nephew’s footsteps. He’s ample steps above Miles, turning his head only slightly over his shoulder to address the distracted teenager.

“C’mon man, get off the phone. We got business to tend to. You in or you out?” Aaron asks. “You know I can’t have nobody holdin’ me back.” There’s a hint of something deeper playing within his words, and Miles knows he doesn’t have a choice.

He swallows hard as he looks up at the older man. Taking one last look down at his phone, his jaw clenches in contemplation before he’s shaking his head with a quiet sigh and shoving it back into his pocket. He’ll have to deal with this later.

“My fault. Yeah, I’m in.” He mumbles, doing a quick jog to catch up to the man.

His uncle’s lips quirk into a smirk, a heavy hand coming down to clap Miles’ back and squeeze his shoulder.

“My man. Aight, let’s roll.”

— Your POV —

8:05 PM

You: i’m deadass. don’t call my phone.

You watch closely as the three dots bubble at the bottom left corner of your screen, an indicator that he was typing. But instead, a quiet scoff slips from your mouth when they disappear, your shoulders slumping in disappointment at the word that appears below your last message.

Seen

You angrily toss your phone onto your bed, bottom lip quivering when you catch a glance at yourself in the mirror when you walk by. You’d gotten dressed up all nice just for him, because you knew the chance of him being free for a night to take you out was rare. You’d started your makeup early just to make sure he wouldn’t have to wait outside for you while you finished, and you’d even styled your hair the way you knew he liked. All for nothing.

You kicked your shoes off and dropped your purse to the ground, heading to your bathroom to undo all your work. You washed all the makeup off your face, the act feeling more humiliating than ever when you remembered why you’d even put it on in the first place. To feel pretty for someone who barely even showed up.

You closed your eyes and tried to calm down, hastily reaching back over to check your phone just one more time. Maybe he was thinking of what to say, and that’s why he’d left you on seen.

Seen 25 minutes ago

Maybe not.

You hated crying. And more than anything you were tired of doing it, especially when broken promises were the cause of your wasted tears. Your evening was basically wasted, and you weren’t in the mood to do anything else anyway, so you decided that you’d call it a night and head to bed early. You slipped on some comfy sleep shorts, tying your hair up for the night before grudgingly tugging a large t-shirt over your head. Your brow perked up at the scent that wafted past your nostrils, and pinching the shirt with your forefinger and thumb, you brought the fabric to your nose and immediately caught a whiff of Miles’ cologne. You then realized you’d put on a shirt you stole from him a while back, and the way your heart fluttered made you even more upset than you already were. You brushed it off to the best of your ability and crawled into bed, trying your hardest to keep your sniffling to a minimum as you pulled your blankets over your shoulder.

____

As soon as he’d gotten the job done and his Uncle gave him the okay to dip, Miles’ feet were moving at the speed of light down the stairwell. And while he had sort of rushed the plays he made with some of the city’s goons, he just had to pray that all his Uncle’s money was in the banded wad of cash he returned with, or it would be his ass.

Skipping a few steps he hopped down onto the platform before the next set, checking his phone for the time simultaneously.

10:15 PM

“Damn.” He groaned, pushing through the doors, cool wind hitting his face. Once he reached his motorcycle he shoved his helmet over his head, hopped on, and sped off with a “skrrrt”.

He sped through the streets carelessly, something you definitely would’ve scolded him for had you been riding on the back of his bike with him, with your arms tight around his waist to hold on like you always did. He bobbed and weaved through cars, lane splitting between a few of them and he may have even ran a red, but he wasn’t paying enough attention to remember. All he could focus on was that you said you were “done”, whatever the hell that meant, and he was adamant on making sure you weren’t.

____

You didn’t know when you’d dozed off, three steady knocks, a fourth one after a pause hitting against your window, resulting in your eyes snapping open at the disruption. You sat up on your mattress, the ball of your hand rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you peered across the room. Once they adjusted in the darkness and you recognized the familiar, lanky body of your boyfriend standing outside on the fire escape, the events of just two hours ago played over in your mind like a record.

With a roll of your eyes, you huffed and swung your legs over the side of your bed, pushing yourself onto your feet. Miles watched as you sleepily trudged over to the window, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, head slightly lowered and tilted to the side, as if he were already apologizing before you’d even made it to him.

Hooking your fingers underneath the edge of your window, with a quiet grunt you pulled it up, effectively lifting the barrier between your bodies. You instantly felt your yearning for him come back full force, and wanted nothing more than to throw yourself into his arms, but you restrained. Your eyes met his, the cool night air breezing into your room, and his heart clenched. Somehow he was able to feel the coolness in your demeanor, yet the cold weather hadn’t bothered him at all.

He was the first to speak.

“Hola, Mami.” He sized you up once, taking notice of your eyes that were slightly puffy from crying.

His voice was like silk to your ears, alluring and confident, almost hypnotizing, and it aggravated you that you felt yourself gravitating towards him off two simple words.

“Why are you here, Miles?” You sighed, arms slapping at your sides in exasperation.

He looked slightly taken aback, chin lifting a bit as if you’d asked something completely outlandish.

“What you mean why I’m here? You my girl, shit, this my crib too.” He shrugged, so nonchalant, as if nothing had happened. You wondered if it had even been him texting you earlier.

“You left me on seen, remember? Stood me up, too?” Your head cocked to the side to match the attitude in your tone, brows raising at him. What excuse would he use this time?

He dragged a hand down his face, exhaling heavily before he spoke up again.

“I was… busy. Look, my bad, okay? You gon’ let me in or what? Ian come all the way over here to stand outside.” He demanded with a gesture towards the opening, his hazel eyes glinting in the moonlight and thawing the ice that’d been temporarily encased around your heart. There was the smallest hint of a smirk on his lips, because he already knew the answer.

Your lips pursed and you stepped to the side, a laggard arm stretched out beside you, silently granting him access to your room.

He stepped through the window frame and you closed it after him, his hands folding around the collar then the hem of his jacket as he adjusted it and turned towards you.

“I can’t keep doing this with you, Miles. It isn’t fair.” You mumbled, hating the way your voice split your words.

His head dipped to the side a bit as he took in your solemn expression and the way your gaze was cast to the floor, as if you were trying to contain your tears. He wasn’t the best at this, he knew that, and showing affection effectively really wasn’t his strong suit. He usually made it up to you by bringing you a few hundreds he’d made from a deal, paired with some roses he’d picked up on the way to your house at the last second— but you both knew paper and flowers wouldn’t fix it this time.

“I’m sorry, I mean it.” He said, reaching for your hand to bring you close and grateful when your eyes finally lifted to lock onto his, although seeing them tear-filled wrapped him in a deep-seated emotion he didn’t even want to acknowledge.

Miles rarely said he was sorry. If ever. Did he apologize? Yes, but it was usually a ‘my bad’ or a ‘my fault’, or some other term that’d get the point across without him have to use too much emotion. Hearing the words ‘I’m sorry’ from him was an anomaly, it happened once in a blue moon, so this time you knew he really meant it. In your heart you knew he meant it, but that didn’t stop the tear you’d been trying to keep at bay from rolling down your cheek.

His thumb caught the tear almost instantly, swiping it from the soft of your skin. It didn’t belong there, and he hated to be the reason why you were crying in the first place.

“Where do you disappear to, Miles?” You sniffled.

He sighed, glancing back over at the window. He considered telling you the truth, but he knew he couldn’t.

“I’m just tryna keep you safe, ma.”

“You always say that!” You squeaked, making sure to keep your voice down, you had technically snuck him in. You ripped your hand from his grasp, turning your face away from him as another tear fell. “Do you not trust me or something? Is that it?”

“Of course I trust you,” His eyebrows knit together at your question and he stole your hand from your side again.

“So why can’t you tell me?” You pleaded, eyes big and glossy.

“I just-“ He paused. “I can’t let you get hurt. The shit I do…” You watched as he hesitated, like even speaking about the subject pained him. “It ain’t good.” He swallowed, a hand coming up to cup your cheek. “And I’ll be damned if I put you in the middle of my shit. I love you… okay?” He moved closer to you, and when you turned from him once again he brought your face right back to his, this time with both his hands. He wasn’t going to let you go, and while Miles was rough around the edges, and seemingly devoid of any emotion other than anger or resentment for the world—he always handled you with care.

“I love you, Y/n, I put that on everything. I’ll burn this whole world down for you, you hear me? Don’t think I won’t.” He stared into your eyes longingly, intent on making sure you didn’t just hear every word, but that you understood them, too.

You couldn’t help but lean into his hand, your own coming up to hold at his wrist as you inhaled shakily and gave him a bleak nod.

That wasn’t enough for him. He needed to hear you say it.

“Do you understand?” He articulated his words, bringing his head down slightly to match your height a bit more.

“I understand.” You said softly, looking up at him through your lashes before your gaze fell to his lips. He took that as his sign, leaning forward and bringing you into a kiss.

You melted into him immediately, like you always did, eyes fluttering closed as your lips moved against his, and as his hands fell to your hips to pull you in closer, like they always did.

You broke the kiss for air, your hand resting on his bicep and your lips ghosting his as you spoke, as you shared the same breath. “I love you too…” You breathed, standing on your toes.

“Good,” You felt him grin before he pulled away, his hand pinching your chin to make you look at him. “Cause you not leaving me, ever. I can’t let no one else have you, Mami, you know that.” He cooed.

You felt heat flush your cheeks, a smile you couldn’t hide finally spreading on your face.

“Yeah yeah, I know.” You answered, chewing at your bottom lip. “Can you stay?” You whispered, eyes shifting between his hopefully as you awaited his answer.

“Ah…” He rubbed at the back of his neck, piping up again before you could get disappointed. “What about your moms?”

“She sleeps in on the weekends, you just gotta be outta here by nine. Please, pa?” You whined, already reaching for his hands.

He chuckled to himself and shook his head slightly, having to look away from the adorable look on your face. He tried to remain in denial of the fact that he was so deep in love with you he could hardly think sometimes, let alone say no, but he was failing. Miserably.

“Of course I’ll stay, mi amor.”

Your expression lit up, a toothy smile brightening your features as he let you lead him to your bed.

He made sure to remove his shoes before he laid down, settling on his back. He extended his arm out to you as he tucked the other behind his head, motioning for you to join him with his fingers.

You crawled into his open embrace, getting comfortable on top of his chest and nuzzling your head under his chin. You began to feel drowsy the second he wrapped his arm around you, a yawn leading your eyes to water. His hand slowly moved from where it was resting on your back, dipping beneath the hem of your shirt, the warmth of his skin against yours comforting to you. His large hand rubbed up and down the expanse of your back, the tips of his fingers drawing lines along your spine— you always fell asleep easier when he did that. You listened to the steady beating of his heart, fingers idly toying with the gold chain he kept around his neck.

“I’m really sorry I ain’t make it tonight. I know you prolly got all pretty for me n’shit… and I wish I got to see it, but that’s on me.” He grumbled. He’d beat himself up over this for a while.

“S’okay.” You say it is, but he knows it’s not. He knows better. “I missed you.” Your quiet voice murmured from below him as you scooted in impossibly closer.

His jaw tensed as he stared up at your ceiling, a deep breath from his diaphragm raising you a little bit with his chest, and lowering you as he released it. “I know.” His response was hushed, and as sleep continued creeping in, you wondered if you’d imagined it.

But when you felt a long, drawn-out kiss press to the top of your head, his hand rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades, you knew it was real. The last thing you heard before you dozed off was his voice, mellow and gentle as he assured you.

“Ima do better, mama. I promise, for real this time.”

- do not copy, plagiarize, or post my works onto a different platform.

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated!

#miles morales fanfiction #42 miles morales #miles g morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction #miles morales prowler #prowler miles #prowler miles fanfic #earth 42 miles fluff

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alex-the-creature · 1 year

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Tarhos x Haddie short fic

guys GUYS ive never written anything ever but ive been filled with too many thoughts of these two for the past few weeks now i just had to put something out there.

i wrote this at like 3 am so like forgive me if theres errors or inconsistencies, either way i hope you enjoy!!!!

i also want to give a slight nsfw warning its nothing explicit though

~~~~~~

The day the garden felt joy

everyones gone the cloudy skies loom over the garden of joy haddie sits in the gazebo, waiting for the doors sirens gazing out to the open street as blood drips along the side of her face shes tired, shes hopeless she doesnt have a reason to run anymore she thinks about what the first residents lives mightve been here, were they happy, did they forget about their worries for a split second, even if it was fake

metal footsteps grew louder and closer to the gazebo haddie doesnt flinch, shes been through this a thousand times whats dying another time, shes almost looking forward to it at least shell be back at the campfire the killer looms over behind the fragile wooden wall a soft sigh echoing before they take a step into the structure

"why arent you running"

a low voiced hum sips through the helmet she looks up at the metal covered man, or, well, whatever horrible monster might reside in there

"i dont want to run anymore." she says as she lowers her head

the knight lowers his sword into the ground and he leans against the door

"i expected more from you"

"i dont give a damn about what you think"

she had received remarks like this from him before. calling her a warrior, congratulating her in chase, he treated her as if she was training to be a guard. she didnt know what to make of it, other killers definitely didnt treat her like that

"you're just a bloodthirsty monster like the rest of those who hunt us. dont act like you're all high and mighty just because you're wearing armor"

"im not the one who makes the rules. id have you fighting against us with tools to make it fair."

"well its not. its not fair that im gonna be stuck here forever with jerks like you. yeah thats what you all are, jerks and bullies who get enjoyment out of killing us"

"i get no joy out of seeing you suffer haddie."

oh right, he knew her name too. she assumed he remembered from the other survivors calling out to her. but with him saying that shes slowly realizing he mightve gone easier on her in past trials, somehow always letting her leave or ignoring her entirely. she was having trouble figuring out why hed say something like that.

"…in fact it breaks my heart."

"you dont look like you have a heart"

the knight scoffs as he reaches up to his helmet taking it of with one motion his long dark hair swaying out of the metal covering most of his face still

"the great tarhos is only but human… or at the least one would hope i am."

"well… you certainly look the part." haddie tilted her head looking at him

he puts down his helmet resting it on the hilt of his great sword as he steps closer to sit down on the bench on the other side from her

"rumors had it you couldnt take off the helmet."

"well not during battle of course. have you seen how many pallets are thrown in my face every trial?"

haddie laughs sincerely

"i might not be as smart as you survivors but i still want to protect whats left in my noggin."

they take a pause from looking at each other

"why are you doing this…?" haddie had to know if this was some kind of elaborate plan

"shouldnt you be chasing me around or closing the hatch so the entity could take me"

"…i dont want to run after you anymore either."

"oh so you got me right where you wanted then?"

she smirks at him with a slight concern in her eye tarhos turns to her and places his hand on her thigh

-oh fuck -

"i should be the one running from you. i cant get you out of my head… thoughts about you haunt me like a ghost. every waking moment i spend thinking about what an honor would be to stay by your side…"

haddie's heart drops down to the bottom of her stomach she doesnt know what to think, other survivors talked about being fancied by killers but she never expected it to happen to her

"well im… flattered…"

she can feel her heart skipping beats as he looms over her with a longing glimpse in his eye she takes her hand to touch the knights face, he flinches but doesn't push away, scars run along his nose and cheeks just like hers, her fingers run along his lips and chin

"you really are handsome afterall huh…"

she takes away her hand. blood runs into his cheeks turning him slightly red, cant say he got complimented much like that in his lifetime

he takes his own hands to take off his gloves his bare hands slightly fuzzy and scarred he holds a hand out to ask for hers, she does so, hers is quite noticeably smaller, not so rough either he takes it and lays a kiss on the back of her hand, his lips are soft and his moustache is a bit prickly but now haddie is blushing too

"gosh, maybe i should give you something to remember me by too…"

she placed her palm on his face drawing it closer to hers his eyes widened at the motion but there was no turning back now in fact he dreamt of this moment he put his hand on top of hers and placed his other on her thigh once more she rested her other hand on his chest plate

their lips finally met and suddenly it felt like everything around them went quiet both of their hearts were pounding within their chests tarhos couldve sworn this is exactly what ambrosia tasted like but in this moment he felt luckier than any god, as their tongues formed their rhythm tarhos took haddie within his arms to fully embrace her, hugging her around her shoulders tightly

haddie reciprocated by hugging him back around his waist and bringing her legs up on the bench wrapping them around him she could feel him grow harder through his armor

but suddenly the siren of the end game collapse goes off and the three guards of tarhos could be heard shouting for him in the middle of the street

"boss where are you we need to go and start the next trial" the carnifex yells "I heard Vittorio is gonna be there you don't want to miss out on this one Kovács!" yells the jailor

"great heavens i must be going" tarhos murmurs to haddie as he shakes himself standing up

he puts his helmet back on and turns to her "will i see you again?"

"…yeah!" she blushes with her legs still on the bench from where he was

"you're incredible my dearest haddie, please leave through the exit. ill try to arrange us a meeting outside of a trial. please take care." he touches her shoulder as he steps outside and meets up with his guards haddie still watching from within the gazebo

"was that your newest bride you big fool of a knight?" "no that would be you my dear durkos, who could ever replace a jester like you" they all laugh as they walk into the fog from the edges of the realm

haddie takes a moment to recollect herself, maybe this is a memory shes gonna be taking with her to the campfire afterall.

#dbd #dbd fanfic #slight nsft #haddie kaur #tarhos kovács #dbd knight #the knight #fanfic #my writing #my art #please ignore any inconsistencies and bad writing #ive never written anything like this before and its like 4 am now

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sleepinghypnos · 5 months

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ITZY Ryujin ft. Yeji x Male OC

Tags: Smut

Genre: Blowjob, Rough Sex, Self-degradation, Female Idol x Male Reader (OC), Cheating (Extreme... i guess.)

PS: Sorry for inconsistent story format, I'm still learning so be patient with me... and it's cheating again, if you are not into that then feel free to ignore this.

The encounter with the IVE members surely is a divine one, having them as 'yours' isn't bad. It's been three days since that happened and you are back at the ITZY's private home.

As per usual, Yuna and Chaeryeong always wants to do something with you. Making moves here and there non-stop and it basically became a routine. In the shower, dining room, living room, and even in the garden when the guards is out for lunch.

The other members don't care because they got used to it, so it's going to be a surprise if they don't see you plowing the fuck out of them.

You woke up and do all your morning ritual before you come out of your room, these past few days their lives has been peaceful. No stalking, no creepy encounters..

But you are still on your guard despite that because who knows what will happen tomorrow or the day after tomorrow.

"Oppa?" You went back to reality when you heard someone talked. Then you gaze downwards to see a beautiful woman kneeling before you. It's Ryujin, the main rapper of ITZY, due to the constant persuasion of Yuna and Chaeryeong, she eventually let her desire get the best of her and do what she wants and this is it.

"Yes?"

"Are you feeling good?" she asked and you nodded, cupping her cheeks as assurance.

She shows her beautiful smile and continued to give your cock some passionate attention, gazing up with sultry eyes as she begins planting soft kisses along your length. Her full lips pout seductively with each press against your sensitive skin.

"It my deepest wish to worship this perfect cock properly..." she breathes out between sensual kisses, taking her time to build anticipation. Her mouth eventually reaches the tip, which she swirls her tongue around teasingly before placing a loving kiss right on the head. She maintains smoldering eye contact throughout.

"I hope my mouth can provide you the warm-up you deserve..." With that, Ryujin's lips part and she takes you inside, moaning at your taste and thickness on her tongue.

She begin bobbing slowly but deeply, caressing the shaft of your huge cock with both of her hands simultaneously.

As the pace increases, Ryujin's muffled moans vibrate around you. She is utterly lost in her oral worship. focused solely on giving you intense pleasure. Her skilled tongue on which she practiced on a dildo proves her dedication on pleasuring you, desiring nothing more than your complete satisfaction from her dedicated efforts.

"Shit, I'm cumming."

As you begin fucking Ryujin's throat intensely, she relaxes her jaw and trying hard to suppress her gag reflex to accommodate your dominant rhythm. Spit drips down her chin as vulgar wet choking sounds escape her stuffed mouth. She's still making an eye contact with you totally want to satisfy your lust.

This pushes you over the edge. With a final brutal thrust down Ryujin's tight throat, you flood her mouth with a massive cumshot. Her eyes roll back in ecstasy as she eagerly gulps down every drop of your virile seed.

When you finally withdraw, Ryujin gasps for air, mouth still open to show you she didn't waste any cum.

"Mmm... thank you for feeding me, Oppa." She purrs, then she turn her gaze behind me.

"So, you finally did it. Congrats!" The woman behind you finally speaks, apparently she's been there the whole time and Ryujin just didn't even bother to say anything since she is focused on pleasuring you.

"Please you use me next, sir..." Yeji begs, Ryujin on the other hand smile upon the idea of another member of ITZY being conquered and that makes all of them your sluts...

Based on Yeji's behavior, she's on par with Yuna if being a slut is a character trait so going gentle on her is a waste. She knelt down on her own without getting told and patiently waits your response.

Yeji parting her lips to welcome your massive length. You didn't waste any time and slides it inside. She moans loudly around your cock, struggling to fit it to her mouth. You feel her tongue sliding along your shaft as she tries to pleasure you.

She gazes up at you pleadingly, eager to be stuffed and fucked as she craves, her cunt drips with arousal, clenching around nothing. She needs your cock to fill her, to ruin her completely.

You plunge into her mouth, feeling her throat stretch around your size. She gags but does not protest, willing to please you however she can.

Her eyes glaze with lust and desire as she bobs her head, wanting to taste your cum.

"Your cock brings me the greatest pleasure, the dildos can't even compare." Yeji pants. "Only you can destroy my mouth as I crave... please, fuck me harder. Ruin me."

You pound into her mouth mercilessly, feeling her lips smack and slide along your length. She moans, the sounds muffled but full of delight.

You look at Ryujin playing with herself, feeling the lust as she watch you ruin Yeji's mouth just like how you did with hers. "Fuck us! Please.. Fuck us!" Words that came out of her mouth.

You are closing to your peak, and finally flood Yeji's mouth with your hot thick cum, she shows off her mouthfull of jizz to you and Ryujin before swallowing it all down.

"Delicious!"

The two idols leads you to your own bedroom tossed themselves to your bed waiting for you to come closer, quickly undressing and lay down as if they are presenting their pussies to you.

Foreplay wasn't needed, the facefucking is enough to wet their cunts like waterfalls. You position yourself with your massive length lining up to Ryujin's wet entrance.

With a single thrust, you bury yourself inside her tight cunt. She screams, overwhelmed by the sensation of pleasure and pain.

"Oh god! y-yes!" She moans. "Fill me. Oppa!"

You pound into Ryujin intensely, feeling her tight walls clench around your cock, she moans and curses, writhing beneath you in delight.

"Harder, Oppa!" She demanded. "I need your enormous cock ruining me."

You oblige, plowing into Ryujin with brutal force. She screams and moans, overwhelmed by the intensity of your thrust, you know she has a boyfriend but this is what she wants, you are just giving it to her.

"Your boyfriend doesn't have any idea that you are here getting plowed by such massive cock but that's fine, right? Since he's been getting along with other women as well, the difference is you are enjoying a much bigger dick compare to his." Yeji said and kissed Ryujin's neck while caressing her hair.

"My wish to try full nelson with my boyfriend is not possible since he is not well-endowed. I want to try it so bad, please help realize my dream." She added, it seems like she found someone and didn't get what she wanted. You just nodded to her and focus your attention on Ryujin.

You pinch and tease Ryujin's nipples, eliciting more moans from the writhing idol beneath you. her breast bounce with the force of your pounding, eager to be marked with your scent.

You switch from her pussy to her ass taking her ass virginity in the process. But she didn't resist, instead she likes the idea. Being used as a fuckdoll isn't so bad in her mind, as long as it's you who will be using her.

Her ass clenches around your cock, begging for the pleasure of your cum. She gazes up at you pleading to be filled.

As you felt your climax closing in you position Ryujin into a mating press, insert your cock into her cunt and plowed her fast and hard making her scream your name.

"Suho Oppa!" She said, her saying your name instead of Oppa made your raging fire to go wild even more. She's taking your huge cock in full length.

Many more thrusts and Ryujin screams in mingled pleasure and humiliation as you fill her cunt with your thick, hot, virile seed. It spurts into her in enormous ropes, filling her up and making her belly bulge as you wreck her completely.

Yeji in particular grins with cruel delight, pleased to see Ryujin so thoroughly used and degraded.

You withdraw from Ryujin's stuffed cunt, your massive cock dripping with cum and slick with her juices. She present herself for inspection, eager to atone for actually giving in to her desire in betraying her boyfriend and please you however she must.

"Oppa's cum fills me as it rightly should." Ryujin's says meekly. "I am but a vessel for your pleasure and release now."

Yeji nod in approval, pleased to see Ryujin so utterly claimed and humiliated.

"She will make a fine breeding cat to produce kittens for you." Yeji says meaningfully.

The bed in your bedroom is quite big, so even if you are fucking three people on the bed you can still do many positions.

Yeji positioned herself in all fours waiting for you to plow her. Without a second thought you penetrate the idol in front of you, she moans as she feels your cock stretching her out, her walls immediately clenched around your cock.

You pulled her hair while fucking from behind, your desire to plow her is nothing lesser than what you felt with Ryujin. Letting them have it the way they wanted it.

Then you pull out, she was surprised and asking for more but you have a different plan. If she wants to get fuck in a full nelson then you'll give it to her.

You positioned Yeji into full nelson locking your hand behind her neck and thrusting upwards making the idols dream come true.

Yeji moans loudly, her hips bucking wildly as she's pounded into oblivion. She can feel your thick cock stretching her pussy to it's limit with your girth and length, sending waves of pleasure through her body.

"Ooh! Sh-shit! This is it! FUCK!!! FUCK ME HARDER, USE ME!" She screams as if she's the only one in the room. "I'm yours to pound to oblivion. My pussy aches to be filled by your girthy cock, please take your pleasure from me. I want to be your little cumdump, filled and used for your pleasure alone."

She grinds her hips against you, eager to feel your cock thrusting deeper into her. She knows you won't stop until you pounded her into a quivering, cock hungry mess, and she craves every second of it.

She cries out in ecstasy as you plow into her, her body shaking with the force of your thrusts. Few deep thrusts and she received her first creampie from you. Her eyes widen, looking down at her swollen belly in shock as the cum continues to pump into her. She can feel it filling her womb. Your thick essence flooding her body.

"Yes! Fill me! Pump your hot cum into my womb!"

You slide her to you side and lift her ass up. "I'm not done with you."

But as soon so she's already to take her second round, her phone rings. Ryujin picks the phone up and gave it to Yeji.

"Oppa?"

"Where are you?"

"At our dorm? We don't have any schedule today..." She's talking to her boyfriend then Ryujin came up with a brilliant idea.

In a whisper... "Do a video call with him, and let Oppa fuck you. Just make sure only your face is visible through the camera." with an evil grin. She's totally getting revenge because of what Yeji did earlier. She knows that Yeji won't resist if you desires it.

"Oppa, do a video call with me." She said and waited for the call. She's nervous but also getting more hornier, this is her first time doing such a thing.

When her boyfriend video calls. I penetrated her immediately. Yeji bites her lip and answers, angling it so he can't see you fucking her.

"H-hi baby! What's up?" Yeji asks, voice trembling as you continue plowing into her pussy from behind.

Her boyfriend is oblivious, chatting casually. Meanwhile, You rail Yeji harder, watching her struggle to keep composure during the call.

"Is everything okay babe? You seemed weird." her boyfriend asks with concern.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine!" Yeji lies, moaning as you spear deep into her soaked cunt from behind.

You reach around and grope her tits through her top, pinching her nipples as you fuck her on camera. Yeji bites back whimpers of pleasure.

"Are you sure? You look a little flushed..." her boyfriend says suspiciously.

You slap Yeji's ass hard, eliciting a yelp. "I-I'm just tired from practice!" she covers. She stifle her moans with her hand as you rail her harder, claiming her body as yours in secret right before her boyfriend's eyes...

As you railing her doggystyle during the call with her oblivious boyfriend, Yeji suddenly makes an exaggerated ahegao face right at the camera.

Her eyes roll back, tongue lolling out as she moans like an anime girl. She's getting off on betraying her boyfriend.

"What was that face for?" He asks confused.

"N-nothing babe! Ryujin's massaging my legs since it's sore and she hit the RIGHT spot..." Yeji lies, stifling her moans as you spear deep into her cervix from behind.

She keeps making lewd faces, clearly getting aroused from cucking her boyfriend without him realizing. Her pussy is soaking wet and clenching around your pistoning cock.

Yeji is getting addicted to the thrill of cheating. And Ryujin is liking every second of this amusement.

She even mouthed... "Crazy bitch!"

Her boyfriend keeps asking what's going on as Yeji makes more odd faces and stifled noises while you rail her.

"What do you keep making those faces for babe?" He asks confused.

"Oh uh, my stomach! It's in my stomach..." Yeji lies unconvincingly as you spear deep into her womb from behind.

"Huh? What's in your stomach?" He asks, not catching her meaning.

"Nothing baby! You wouldn't get it anyway..." Yeji says with a hint of mockery, biting back a moan as your swollen balls slap against her engorged clit.

Her boyfriend is completely unaware as you thoroughly claim his girlfriend's pussy right before his eyes. Yeji is getting off on cucking him so blatantly.

Soon your cum will be pumping into the stomach she mentioned instead of his..

While you rail Yeji doggystyle during her video call, Ryujin is watching from the sidelines and giggling to herself.

She can clearly see you spearing Yeji's tight pussy while her oblivious boyfriend has no idea. Ryujin finds Yeji's poor attempts at lying utterly amusing.

"Oppa's huge cock is stuffing you so good! Your boyfriend is so clueless!" Ryujin whispers teasingly.

Yeji glares at her but can't hold back a loud moan as you start jackhammering into her g-spot without mercy.

"What was that? Is someone else there?" Her boyfriend asks, hearing the noises. Looks like Yeji is also his first girlfriend because he remains oblivious...

"No babe! Just the TV!" Yeji lies desperately.

You are railing Yeji relentlessly, her pussy squeezing your cock as you hit deep in her womb. With a few final powerful thrusts, you erupt, pumping thick ropes of cum directly into her womb.

Yeji's eyes roll back feeling you coat her insides. Her tummy begins bulging, filled up with your potent seed.

Right as you finish cumming inside her, Yeji makes an exaggerated ahegao face and moans loudly, putting on a final show for her boyfriend.

"G-gotta go babe, talk later! I think my legs needs some ice packs." Yeji excuses herself before ending the call. your cum still oozing from her used hole.

Ryujin laughs seeing Yeji's bulging creampied pussy after deceiving her boyfriend so blatantly.

"You bitch! You're sluttier than Yuna and Chaeryeong!" Ryujin added before pulling you to lay down on the bed.

"It's your fault! Who said you can come out with an idea like that?" Yeji's face is buried on the mattress while arguing with Ryujin.

"Just make sure he won't figure it out, your career might face some consequences." You reminded her while rubbing her back. She just nodded and continued resting.

Here it is.... Another piece. Thank you for reading!

#kpop smut #itzy smut #kpop fic #kpop #smut #Ryujin smut #Yeji smut #itzy

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dios-multiverse · 2 years

Text

'Til Death Do Us Part Character Refs!

these are just basic info about the more prominent/recurring characters. more specific details will be in separate posts or answers to asks! note: all character ages and relationship statuses are as of september 2018, since that's the rough estimate of when this tale takes place

our lovely protags ~

Jaycen (Jay/Jayce) H. December:

- gender: male

- sexuality: bisexual

- age: 30 years old

- date of birth: April 29, 1988 (astrological sign: taurus.)

- race/ethnicity: black/african-american and white

- relationship status: married to Korina December

- eye color: dark brown

- hair color: strawberry blonde

- occupation: assassin

- favorite color: blue

- previously mentioned fav. color is specifically the blue from the bi flag

Korina (Kori) H. December:

- never ask about his younger brother

☆☆☆

- gender: female

- sexuality: biromantic heterosexual (split attraction model explains her id the best, lol) if she's asked, she just says she's bi with a preference for men *shrug*

- age: 28/29 years old

- date of birth: September 19, 1989 (astrological sign: virgo)

- maiden name: Korina Haruka* Ishikawa

*this is a name she had as a baby. is written on official birth certificate or any legal documentation as a middle name.*

- race/ethnicity: white and asian (japanese)

- relationship status: married to Jayce Hakim December

- eye color: green

- hair color: black

- occupation: accountant (in the literal sense! not the slang term, though we support sw here)

- favorite color: green

- has one child from a previous relationship, a ten y/o son named Kaito. jay does not know that kaito is kori's son.

☆☆☆

most relevant side charas

Mario G. Saunders

- gender: male

- sexuality: homosexual

- age: 28 years old

- date of birth: October 26, 1989 (astrological sign: scorpio)

- race/ethnicity: white

- eye color: hazel

- hair color: dark brown (not quite black, but very close)

- relationship status: single

- favorite color: purple

- occupation: unemployed (he's rich and takes his parents' money. he doesn't need a job /hj)

- jay's ex and the younger brother of kori's former friend, lorraine

☆☆☆

Nikita (Nikki/Nik) S. December

- gender: female

- sexuality: panromantic demisexual

- age: 27

- date of birth: June 5, 1991 (astrological sign: gemini)

- race/ethnicity: black/african-american and white

- eye color: hazel

- hair color: black

- relationship status: single

- jay's younger sister and one of his closest friends

- favorite color: sunflower yellow (specifically.)

- occupation: assassin (it's a family business, alr?)

- will kick anyone who asks jay about their younger brother

☆☆☆

Naomi (Nomi) K. Lin

- gender: female

- sexuality: bisexual - age: 27

- date of birth: November 6, 1990 (astrological sign: scorpio)

- race/ethnicity: black/african-american and asian (chinese)

- eye color: hazel

- hair color: black

- relationship status: single

- favorite color: lavender

- occupation: author!

- kori's best friend and closest confidant

- mother of eight month old twins named michael and mae

#tddup 'verse #first post that isn't intro!!!#y'all these are my babies they've been with me since like. middle school. /srs #i love talking about them so please ask any questions before i make more specific posts about them individually!#i would draw them but i suck ass. maybe i'll make them in picrew and post them one day #perhaps. one other thing about them (specifically mario) is that there's more to him that meets the eye insofar that he's decidedly Worse.#also pls ignore the inconsistent formatting. i did some of these YEARS ago #long post

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dirtyvulture · 5 months

Text

Darkest Knight - Part 2

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Mutant!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Summary: You meet a pretty woman in a bar...

Word count: 4954

AN: Click here for Part 1!

Thanks to everyone who read and interacted with Part 1. Things get a little wild in this one...

“I should have never come here,” Natasha cries. “You don’t deserve this, after everything you’ve done for me–”

“I can help you,” you insist. “Please, Nat. Just tell me who they are–”

She looks up at you, and even in the darkness the fear in her eyes is unmissable.

“The Red Room.”

The words send physical shivers down your spine. They weren’t ones you had expected to ever hear again, and you were shocked that this woman knew of its existence, let alone escaped. Now, you can fully sympathize with and understand her fear.

“Put your shoes on. We’ll go out the back door. Hurry.” You speak in short but commanding sentences, directing Natasha into the kitchen. The pounding on the door escalates to heavy, inconsistent thuds, and you know the “officers” are using their battering ram now. Luckily, you had assembled this cabin yourself, board by board, with the door built of solid oak, so that would buy you some precious time.

You stop at the freezer to grab a plastic bag that Natasha doesn’t even look at. She’s staring at the back door, practically shaking with fear, and anger fills you so suddenly you can’t see. But you can’t slip into one of your rages now, not with Natasha being in such close proximity and having no idea what you’re actually capable of. If she knew who you really were, what you were, she’d run happily into the Red Room goons’ arms and beg them to take her away from you.

On the other side of the back door, you hear the crunch of boots on fresh snow, the anxious heartbeats, and the pump of a shotgun.

You don’t have any time to warn Natasha before you jump in front of her, shielding her body with yours just in time as a round of buckshot blasts through the door into your chest. The pain is like an explosion that takes your breath away, but luckily darkness engulfs you before it becomes overbearing.

Natasha screams when your weight falls back into her. You are ridiculously, unexpectedly heavy, almost pinning her down, but she manages to scramble back in time, leaving you to thud onto the floor. She stares at your body in shock, where lead pellets are buried in your chest, blood seeping out to soak your layers of shirts. Natasha instinctively gravitates for you, trying to find an area to apply pressure so she can slow the bleeding.

“Y/N, Y/N,” she whimpers, ignoring the fist punching through the weakened door and opening the lock from the outside.

“Hey, I found her!”

“And you took out the other one!”

“Natalia…” someone says in a mocking voice. “Natalia, come home to us…”

Natasha’s head snaps up and adrenaline fills her veins as she blindly launches herself at the soldier who killed you. She tears the shotgun out of his hands and clubs him on the head with it, knocking him down and smashing the butt into his helmet’s face shield until it cracks. She hasn’t felt fury like this in a while, putting her in an almost euphoric state, but her focus is a concentrated pinpoint, and she doesn’t see the second soldier behind her pointing a gun at her head.

“RAHHHHH!”

Natasha ducks, wondering if someone let a large animal into your home. She catches a flash of silver as the muzzle of the soldier’s gun falls harmlessly to the floor as if sliced right off. You’re back on your feet all of a sudden, teeth bared in a ferocious snarl, three silver, knife-like claws protruding from your knuckles. You slash at the soldier, tearing through his body armor effortlessly and puncturing his heart. He crumples next to his partner, who’s shaking in complete terror while crawling away from you.

“Don’t look, Nat,” you growl and she turns away, flinching when she hears the man’s cut off scream. She jumps when you grab her shoulder, afraid that she’ll find herself on the other end of your knives, but you shake her gently. When she looks at you, your knives are gone and so are the buckshot holes in your chest.

“How are you–What did you–” Natasha stammers.

“It’s okay,” you say, taking a step back from her when you sense her overwhelming levels of stress. “I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

Natasha slips her hand into her pocket, where your stolen pocket knife is. It would be like trying to fight you off with a toothpick, but Natasha Romanoff wasn’t one to go down without a fight.

“Nat, please. We can get away on my motorcycle. Come on.”

You’ve made no move to hurt her, keeping your hands where she can see them. Even though you had turned the Red Room soldiers into shish kabobs, you hadn’t let them suffer, taking them down with deadly accuracy and efficiency. Deep down, Natasha knows she can trust you, but her body is having a very resistant physical reaction to going with you. After all, anyone’s natural instinct would be to run very fast and far from away from a person who literally came back from the dead and mowed down two grown men with knives built into their arms.

“Nat?” you prompt a final time, not sure what you’re going to do if she refuses to go with you.

“Okay,” she says, wringing her hands together frantically. “I trust you.”

It means more than you can explain that she’s put her faith in you and you lead her out of the bloodied kitchen. You race to the shed, where you tear off the padlock with your bare hands. There’s only one helmet, which you clasp around Natasha’s head. You throw one leg over the seat of your motorcycle and it sinks considerably under your weight. Natasha slides on behind you, wrapping her arms around your muscular torso, unable to resist the waves of body heat coming off of you.

She hardly notices the blistering wind as you take off into the forest, somehow finding your way around trees and rocks despite keeping the headlights off. Her fingers are clenched, almost frozen, to the plastic bag you had made such an effort to retrieve from the freezer. She has no interest in its contents now, clinging to you desperately and closing her eyes, hoping that when she opens them she’ll wake up from this nightmare.

You eventually turn the motorcycle onto a road and careen on.

*********************************************************************** It’s probably not the wisest idea to stop at a motel, but you’re certain Natasha is still exhausted from the long night that’s not over, and you need some time to collect yourself. You park your motorcycle in the dirt lot and shake Natasha awake.

“We’ll stay here for a few hours, then keep moving,” you say, gently prying the plastic bag from her. Her hands are freezing and you feel awful for not taking care of her better.

“But the men…they could catch up–”

“You need to get proper rest,” you interrupt. You’re not sure how many hours she had been awake before she met you at the bar, and while she’d already been looking better after dinner, you didn’t want to push her.

“This is too dangerous–” Natasha protests.

“They know you’re with me,” you say, and this quiets her. “So they’ll need to come up with a new plan if they want you.” You untwist the plastic bag, pulling out a soggy wad of cash. Her eyes grow wide. “This should keep us covered for a few days.” Then, you notice the rusty red splotches of dried blood splattered across your shirt. If you walk up to the front desk like this, the manager would call the cops. “Uh…shit.”

“Here.” Natasha takes her jacket off, despite your protests for her to keep it on, and she wraps the sleeves around your shoulders, carefully draping them in a way that hides the blood splatter. She fights back a visible shiver. “Much better.”

“Thanks. Let’s go quick,” you say, herding her into the tiny front office that barely fits the two of you side-by-side. “Two rooms,” you tell the pimply boy behind the dusty desk who smells like energy drinks and weed.

“Huh?” he responds, blinking slowly at you.

“Two rooms. Please,” you say through your teeth, pulling out a few bills to show your commitment.

A long pause as you stare each other down.

“Uh, yeah we don’t have two rooms,” the boy says. “Just one–”

“That’s fine, then,” Natasha intervenes, as you can consider hefting the kid over your shoulder and dragging him out to the dumpster around the corner. “We’ll take whatever you have left.”

“Sure.”

You reluctantly hand over the deposit and he disappears into the back room to find the keys. Mumbling under your breath about the lack of hiring standards, you rub absently at your chest and Natasha looks at you in concern.

“You okay?” she whispers.

“Yeah.” You drop your hand back to your side. “Probably gonna cough up some buckshot later, to be honest.”

Natasha doesn’t know if she should laugh or leave. “How did you…” she trails off, searching for the right words.

“Heal so fast?” you supply. “Always have. I was literally just…born that way.”

“And the…” Natasha gestures to her own hands and forearms.

“Claws?” you finish. “Been with me since the beginning, too.” Your answers are vague, almost useless in the new number of questions they spark, but Natasha knows now is not the time. The boy finally returns with a key hooked to rabbit’s foot, which you accept with a very judgemental scowl, but are very glad to finally be on your way to some privacy for the night.

***********************************************************************

Natasha startles awake, trying to piece together the traumatic memories of the past eight hours into a coherent storyline. She’s alone in the motel room, her anxiety skyrocketing at the thought that you might have ditched her, when the door creaks open and you step back in. You’re wearing new clothes and holding a crumpled white bag stained with grease.

“Did you sleep okay?” you grunt, tossing the bag onto the bed by her feet. “I got you some breakfast. It’s probably shit, but everything else nearby is closed.”

“Thanks.” Natasha reaches for the bag, despite having almost no appetite. She takes out one of the sandwiches, but can’t bring herself to take a bite. “Y/N, I think we need to get moving again. We’ve hung around for too long–”

“Eat your damn sandwich, then we’ll leave,” you gruff, and it’s almost endearing to Natasha how grumpy and thoughtful you can be at the same time. “But you know, we can’t keep running forever.”

“We can run far enough,” she insists. You don’t respond and Natasha realizes you’re waiting for her to take a bite of her egg and sausage sandwich. Fighting back a smile of amusement, she nibbles off the edge of the dry muffin and you nod in satisfaction.

“Look Nat, I want to help you. You know that, right? But I’m…familiar…with these Red Room goons and–” Her eyebrows shoot up as she keeps chewing. “That’s another story for another day.”

“Did you escape from them, too?” Natasha asks, her eyes wide.

“Well, not exactly. But I know who they are. What they are. And what they do to women like you.”

Natasha tenses suddenly, sensing judgment from you. She’s ready to defend herself, that she didn’t let them break her or keep her hostage, when you add, “They should be burned to the ground. Just a bunch of psychopathic perverts.” She laughs out loud, startling you because you weren’t even trying to make a joke, but you let out a snort.

“But they’re a damn smart bunch of perverts,” you continue. “And you know we can’t take them alone. I have some old friends that can help us. I’ll take you to them.”

“More old friends? Like the one who’s clothes I’m wearing?” Natasha says, wanting to join in on the lighter mood, but she immediately regrets so when she sees the sadness cloud your face.

“Not like that,” you murmur. “She would’ve helped us, though. But she’s gone now, so…”

Natasha doesn’t know what to say, guilt gnawing at her stomach for making such an unnecessary joke.

“They’re in New York. It’s been a while since I last saw them, but I’m sure they wouldn’t mind us stopping by,” you say to break the silence. “They’d help us without question.”

“Even against…the Red Room?”

“They’d have those Red Room schmucks for breakfast,” you chortle, the mood lightening once more. The knot in Natasha’s stomach loosens, and she takes another bite of the sandwich. “But it’s gonna take us a while to get there. And we’ll probably need a car…”

“I’ll handle it,” Natasha volunteers.

You look at her with a raised eyebrow, challenging but curious. “Okay. We’ll go when you’re done eating.”

***********************************************************************

While you clear out the motel room of all your tracks, Natasha triumphantly returns with the keys to a large blue Ram truck. You’re sad to leave your motorcycle behind, but it’s served you well, so you take it for one final ride to a strip mall, Natasha following in her menacing blue truck. You park in a shaded corner, saying good-bye with a caress to the faded leather seat, then join Natasha in the truck.

With good weather and little traffic, the drive would take about 40 hours. And even though you’d be able to make the entire drive yourself with minimal stops, Natasha won’t let you. It’s a long first day, stopping for more junk food and bathroom breaks. You buy a phone from a gas station to text your contact in Westchester, and in the few responses you share, they seem eager for your arrival despite your circumstances.

Another night is spent at a shoddy motel, and this time you don’t automatically ask for separate rooms. Natasha seems comfortable in your presence–tolerant, at the very least–and you’re starting to enjoy her company too. She keeps to herself for the most part and even though you can feel her studying you sometimes, she doesn’t ask anything inappropriate. She also tries to take care of you, though you think of yourself as the last person who needs it, but it’s cute how she picks up on your favorite gas station snacks (the jerky and Snickers bars) and buys you extra packets behind your back, and she offers to drive almost every time the two of you get back into the truck.

So on the third and final day of your trip, when Natasha begs to make a stop at a mall in Ohio, you agree, mostly because you know how happy it will make her. While the mall itself is disappointingly unimpressive, Natasha has the biggest smile as she drags you around under the pretense that she wants to find some clothing that wasn’t bought from a gas station, but she tries to browse every store, commenting which retailers have taken the old spots of familiar locations from her childhood.

“Try this one on,” Natasha says, thrusting yet another checkered flannel shirt at you.

“They all look the same,” you grumble, feeling that you may be colorblind because you can’t tell what’s different about the prior three she’s made you try.

“No, this one goes better with your eyes,” she says, her cheeks suddenly turning red when she realizes what she’s said.

You grin at her. “Then I’ll buy this one.”

You proudly wear the shirt out of the store, sneaking a glance to see Natasha’s expression and she does seem even more excited than when you first arrived at the mall. For lunch, you stop in the food court, and while you’re wolfing down a triple-patty burger with frightening intensity, Natasha suddenly reaches across the table and grabs your hand.

“What?” You stop mid-bite.

“Behind you,” she hisses.

Wiping grease off your chin, you drop your shoulder and turn your head subtly. But you know immediately who Natasha’s referring to. A woman with long black hair tied into an immaculate ponytail, not a single stray hair flying about, wearing a black overcoat and gloves, strides towards the food court with purposeful, powerful steps. You recognize her posture, her outfit, and the cold, emotionless expression on her face.

“Holy shit,” you mumble. “They sent a Widow after us.”

“We have to go!” Natasha tries yanking up but she isn’t strong enough. “How do you think she found us?”

“They’ve probably been tracking us the whole time,” you say, sad to leave the remainder of your meal. “They were just waiting for the right time to strike.” It’s hard to walk fast without making it obvious that you’re running from someone. You offer Natasha your hand and she takes it without hesitation. You drag her along a little, urging her without words. “It’ll be fine, Nat. We’ll take care of her and keep moving.”

“We shouldn’t have stopped here. This was all my stupid idea,” she says.

“It wasn’t a stupid idea. I liked it.”

If the two of you weren’t running from a Widow, Natasha would have stopped and hugged you. Although she hasn’t known you for more than four days, she feels completely safe with you and has a deep admiration for you. You’ve never prodded about her past, you’ve never judged from where she came from. While you’re not such an open book yourself, Natasha can see how much you’ve relaxed around her from your first meeting. She likes your calmness, your willingness to drop literally everything in your life for her, with no expectation of anything in return. She’s never met someone like you before but hopes that you’ll let her stay around even after this mess is cleaned up.

“Go this way,” you say, nudging Natasha into a maintenance corridor, having seen a sign for roof access on one of the walls. At least you could take care of the Widow without worrying about innocent casualties–assuming there weren’t more hiding up there. “Take the stairs,” you instruct Natasha, pushing her into the stairwell.

“I hope you don’t expect me to jump from the roof,” she replies.

“Well, if we have to, I’ll jump first and catch you,” you quip, but there is no time for her to linger on your comment. She dashes up the three flights of stairs with lightning speed, while you lumber up behind her.

“The door’s locked,” she says, stopping in her tracks.

“Move.” Your middle claw rips out of your hand and you slide it between the jamb and wall to cut the lock. Throwing your weight against the door, it pops open easily and you stumble out into the unusually bright outside. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Just hide somewhere and wait.”

Natasha is skeptical of your plans, not wanting to be caught in a dead end with another Widow, but she hurries towards an air conditioning unit. When she turns around, she sees you’re not following her and are facing the roof access door, your claws sliding out as the Widow makes her appearance, now wearing a gas mask.

“Y/N!” Natasha screams with no other way to stop you.

The Widow tosses a metal canister that immediately releases a thick, white fog. It hides the Widow and worse, burns your eyes until they water and destroys your sense of smell with a piercing, peppery odor.

“Shit.” You drop onto your belly, searching for a breathable pocket of air. You hear another canister clang to the ground, spreading the white fog farther and farther. As you crawl to where you think Natasha is taking cover, the unmistakable pops of gunfire ring through your skull.

Your sense of sight, smell, and now sound are completely unreliable and fear ices your veins as you think about Natasha’s safety. But she’s also a Widow herself, so you’ll have to trust that she can handle herself while you figure out the way to her. You force yourself up, wiping snot on the sleeves of your new flannel and hunkering down, focusing hard to feel the vibrations of movement on the roof. You pivot left, inching forward cautiously. The faint click of a rifle trigger alerts you and you lash out with your claws, slicing uselessly through the fog. But it was nothing but a ruse, as the Widow comes up behind you and stabs you in the neck with a pronged instrument that sends hundreds of volts of electricity through your body. Your muscles seize and you collapse to the ground, seizing uncontrollably.

You’re pretty sure you’ve bitten your tongue off as blood fills your mouth and you start choking, unable to roll to your side to cough it out. The Widow points the muzzle of her at your face, pressing the cold metal tip to your forehead. You bare your teeth in a vicious snarl, wishing you could will control back into your body to slash her throat out.

“Good night, mutt,” the Widow says.

***********************************************************************

Natasha tucks her mouth and nose into her elbow, charging into the fog while wielding the tiny pocket knife she stole from your apartment. She tackles the Widow with her full bodyweight, puncturing the blade through her vest deep enough that the Widow screams, dropping her gun. Knocking off the Widow’s mask and pulling her into a tight headlock, Natasha squeezes her arms as tight as she can, counting the number of seconds it takes before the assassin finally stops struggling and slumps to the ground. With watering eyes from the gas, Natasha strips the Widow of her equipment, despite knowing that at her peak, her bare hands would be deadly enough weapons. The gas starts to spread further and further and Natasha can finally see your convulsing body.

She runs over to you, tentatively yanking the taser out of your neck. You take a huge breath of air, rolling to your side and coughing hard.

“Thanks,” you mutter as your tongue grows back. Shakily you get to your feet, touching the side of your neck and feeling the jagged openings left by the taser slowly closing. “Where is she? I’m gonna–”

“No. Let’s go,” Natasha intervenes, grabbing onto a handful of your shirt to stop you, like you’re a dog on a leash. You push her away, stomping over to where the Widow is lying motionless. Your claws pop out. She won’t feel anything.

“Y/N, STOP!” Natasha yells and you freeze, turning to glare at her.

“They sent her to kill us,” you seethe.

“But she’s not herself,” Natasha begs. “She’s being controlled. You know that. Please don’t kill her. She was just…She was just following orders.”

You clench your fist, the muscles in your forearm rippling as you retract your claws. Natasha gulps and takes a visible step back from you. She’s never seen such rage in your features before, not that it would be unwarranted, but it almost seems like you’re on the verge of completely losing control. Your expression twitches when you smell the fear rolling off Natasha in waves. She’s not afraid of the Widow anymore. She’s afraid of you.

“Fine. Sorry,” you grunt, backing up. You want to put your claws down your throat for scaring her like this. Your whole life you had fought to convince everyone that you were more than the animal you were born to be. It always felt like a losing battle.

“No, I’m sorry,” Natasha says. “I said something that upset you.”

“Is that mine?” You’re suddenly distracted by the sight of a small knife poking out of the Widow’s side.

“Uh…” Natasha glances at you sheepishly. “I thought it would come in handy eventually.”

“Hmm.” You don’t dwell on it though, having other things to worry about. “Let’s just get the hell out of here.”

The parking lot is a jumbled mess as people hurry to leave as emergency vehicles enter the premises. You keep your head down, hoping you’re moving fast enough for no one to notice the few stains of blood on your collar. Natasha races to keep pace with you. She’s barely able to jump into the truck in time before you have it in drive, speeding out of the parking lot.

“Thank you,” Natasha finally whispers as you merge onto the highway.

“For what?” you grunt, your knuckles clenched tightly around the steering wheel.

“For not killing her.”

You make another grunting noise.

“You know she doesn’t deserve that.”

“It’s not about what she deserves,” you snarl. “She was there to kill me and take you back to the Red Room. Which she failed to do. So if anything, the Red Room will probably kill her–”

“They wouldn’t do that,” Natasha interjects. “The Widows are huge investments. That’s why they want me alive.”

“Well, they don’t really seem to care if you get in their crosshairs of trying to kill me.” You don’t like how your words come out, but it’s too late to take them back now. You know none of this is Natasha’s fault–you were the one who willingly came to her aid, who insisted on driving her across the country, who offered your own friends to help.

“You don’t deserve this either.” Natasha’s voice drops. She sounds small, and when you side-eye her, she’s curled up in her seat in a way that makes her look small too. You frown. “You were just trying to be a decent person, and now you’ve had your life threatened several times, you had to leave your home, you’re being chased across the country–”

“Stop it,” you interrupt. “If this is the consequences of my actions, then so be it. I’d do it again a thousand times for you. Because you’re worth it.”

“I am?” Natasha looks at you in disbelief, partially because this is the most emotional she’s ever heard you and partially because she wonders if this is you admitting you have feelings for her.

“Yes,” you confirm, giving her a slight smirk before focusing on the road.

***********************************************************************

The final stretch of the drive is rough, but you make it. It’s nighttime now and exhaustion weighs on your shoulders from the entire day’s events. You shake Natasha awake as you park on the driveway.

“We’re here,” you say, cutting the lights and turning off the engine. Natasha gets out of the car, gaping at the enormous mansion you’ve stopped in front of. As you walk with her up to the front door, she stops to read the plaque.

“‘Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters,’” she says. “Hang on, this place is a school? Why would you bring us here? You’re putting children in danger, Y/N–”

“Hold on,” you cut her off. “The kids and staff here? They’re just like me.”

“Just like you? Meaning–” Before Natasha can finish her sentence, the front doors swing open and a woman with spiky gray hair appears, throwing herself at you.

“Y/N!” she cries.

“Hey, Ororo,” you mumble, returning her hug with a little less passion. “Sorry to arrive so late. Ran into a little trouble earlier…”

“You made it safely and that’s all that matters.” She pats your shoulders affectionately. “Hi there. I’m Ororo,” the woman introduces herself to Natasha, awkwardly standing off to your side. “But the kids around here call me Storm.”

“I’m Natasha.”

“Please, come in. It’s freezing and I know you’ve both been on the road for days,” Ororo invites. “Your room is all prepped, Y/N.”

You hadn’t even thought to ask her for another guest room, but you have a feeling Natasha won’t mind sharing again. You gesture for her to enter the mansion first. She seems in awe, and a little overwhelmed, that this building had been converted into a boarding school. Maybe later you’ll take her to the basements to show her the other half of the school.

A man wearing ruby sunglasses despite the midnight hour stands at the bottom of the staircase, a beautiful red-headed woman by his side.

“Jean,” you breathe, almost frozen in her presence.

“Hi, Y/N,” Jean says in a sultry voice that makes your heart beat embarrassingly faster. Natasha feels a prick of jealousy when she sees the way you’re looking at this new woman.

“Y/N!” the man barks.

“Good to see you too, Scott,” you add, not noticing the way Natasha moves closer to you, almost brushing against your arm. “This is Nat. She’s been traveling with me for the past few days, and–”

“You’re the one who escaped the Red Room,” Scott says, and Natasha cringes.

“Yeah, she is,” you answer, annoyed by his tone of voice.

“And how do we know that we can trust her?” Scott asks.

“Because I trust her.”

There’s a pause while Scott accepts this answer.

“I just finished heating dinner up for you two. It’s in the kitchen,” Ororo interrupts. She’s the only one thrilled to host guests, you think.

“Thanks, Ro,” you say.

“Well now that you’re back, Y/N, we actually need a substitute P.E. teacher tomorrow morning,” Scott teases, his arm going around Jean’s waist. “How about filling in, for old time’s sake?”

You raise your arm, extending the middle claw only. Everyone howls in laughter.

“Put that away,” Ororo chastises. “Come and eat now, before the food goes cold.”

You and Natasha start walking after her, but you stop when you hear the whir of wheels, an older bald man zipping up to you in a wheelchair.

“Professor,” you greet, for the first time taking the initiative to hug, leaning down to embrace him. “Thanks for helping us out. We really appreciate it.”

The man smiles, a twinkle in his eye. “Of course. Welcome back, Y/N.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Click here for Part 3!

Hopefully, going to the X-Men was a wise decision on R's part...

Let me know what you think. :) Please leave likes, comments, and reblogs.

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader

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sunandmhoon · 5 months

Text

MAD

Mad Genre: hurt/comfort Pairing: Wonwoo X Reader “Baby, I don’t want us to sleep with a heavy heart,” w/c: 1200 a/n: Hiii guys!!! This story kinda went everywhere hahaha. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. :) (also I didn't proofread this so I'm sorry for any inconsistencies)

MASTERLIST; OTHER WORKS

“What the hell is this?” you raced to his office, phone in hand and article open. Your hands were shaking as you read the article, denial filled your mind like water in a cup. But now the cup overflowed, tipped the cup and shattered it along with your heart.

‘SEVENTEEN’S WONWOO caught on a date with a mystery woman? Could this be a friend, or something more?’

You know that dating someone in the entertainment industry, especially in one like his, was a risk and it will come with many fake rumours, fake articles, and fabricated stories; you were used to that. It’s happened before, with his managers, colleagues, and friends but you’ve never actually believed it.

However,

This article, instead of scrolling past it like any of the other ones, it became the straw on the camel's back.

“Babe, I’m playing right now,” he said, “can we talk about it later.” he continued on with the game as if he didn’t see your fuming presence by the door, or maybe he did but was just ignoring it. That pissed you off. His tone, his ignorance, his cold way of talking to you.

“No, Wonwoo,” you told him, “we need to talk. What the hell is this?” you stood there in place, fighting the urge to shut off his computer, shove the phone in his face and leave. Nothing. He acted as if he didn’t even hear you. At this time, you were shaking with anger. The irritation was bubbling up inside you waiting for it to erupt. “Wonwoo!”

“It’s just another stupid article, you should be used to it by now,” he rolled his eyes, “there’s nothing to talk about. I’m busy right now.” all this was said without a pause in the movement of his fingers, or even a glance at you.

“Fine,” you said, “Fuck me then, right? Have fun with your stupid game.” you put your phone in your pocket, moving around the room, collecting your things. “And when you win, celebrate with that side chick of yours because I’m fucking leaving.”

At that, he froze in his seat. He quickly took off his headphones, turning to you as you were grabbing any of your things that you could find. Hot tears were racing down your face as you gathered your things, and he stood up, going closer to you.

“Wait, Y/N,” he said, reaching for your arm, you shrugged him off and headed to your bedroom. He stood in the office, frozen. He rubbed his eyes as he thought about the mess that had just happened, then he heard you open a zipper.

He rushes quickly into your bedroom to see you throwing your clothes into an open suitcase. His brain starts to scatter, his heart starts to crack at the sight. He knows that this is his fault and hates it. He went over to you, trying to hold your hands but you just kept shrugging him off.

“Y/N,” he begged, “please don’t do this. Let's talk c’mon.” he didn’t notice that his face mirrored yours, his cheeks were valleys of tears. You just shook your head and continued packing. “Baby, please.”

“No, Wonwoo,” you told him, “don’t ‘Baby’ me. Leave me alone.” you continued, zipping up your suitcase and wiping your tears. “That's what you’ve been doing lately, so you must be used to it.” you put your suitcase aside and headed to bed. He watches you as you pass him, laying on your side of the bed but turned over so that your back is towards him.

He huffs and gets into bed as well. Sleeping in the same position you were. Backs turned toward each other, the small space in the middle untouched and though you were barely apart, the space felt like an ocean; a hundred miles separating the both of you.

He tried to sleep, but he just couldn’t. He couldn’t help the empty feeling in his stomach, the heaviness of his heart and the racing of his brain. He was twisting and turning, closing and opening his eyes.

He looked over at the time, 2:30 AM, and looked over to where you were. He noticed that you weren’t sleeping as well with the way your back rose in irregular patterns. Softly he called out for your name, turning over to get closer to you. He moved his hand to your shoulder, gently shaking it.

“Baby, I don’t want us to sleep with a heavy heart,” he whispered, “I’m sorry. Can you talk to me?” He hoped that you could find it in your heart to turn over, talk to him and forgive him. You didn’t move, pretending as if you were asleep, but you still felt his presence behind you. His hand, previously placed on your shoulder was now moved down your arm, rubbing patterns all over it; circles, hearts, and your name.

“I know you’re ignoring me, it’s alright,” he started, his voice just above a whisper, “I’m sorry for the way I acted just now, I know you just wanted to talk. I know that you were angry and to be honest, I don’t even know why I didn’t talk to you nicely. Trust me, I feel fucking stupid and I regret it so much.” He takes a deep breath before continuing, his inhales are shaky and you can sense that he was going to cry, “please, baby, just talk to me so we can clear this up. Please don’t leave me.

You turned over to him, you saw his eyes closed and head dipped down–he never wanted to let you see him cry. You don’t want to fight him anymore, not when he looked like this, not when he just told you what he did. You reached up to cup his face with your palms, wiping his tears away with your thumb. His eyes, glistening with tears, followed yours.

“I’m sorry too, Won,” you told him, “I just…” your sentence stopped as you remembered why you were angry at him. But you can’t find it in yourself to lash at him again, your mind has cleared since your argument.

“What is it, baby,” he said gently, “it’s okay, I won't be mad.” he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just, recently you’ve been ignoring me, being cold, or dry,” you started, not being able to look him in the eye, “You never even looked at me anymore. I don’t need an explanation, Wonwoo, I just want to know If you’re tired of me. Have you finally had enough?” you didn’t realise that you started tearing up again until he wiped your tears, “all I could think of was ‘what did i do?’ I thought I was a good girlfriend,” you were sobbing at this point. “I want to fix it, Won, I don’t want to leave, but if you don’t want me–if you don't,” you sniffled, “If you don’t love me–”

“Hey, no,” he quickly interrupted you, “Y/N, in no world will I ever not love.” he said sincerely, “I didn’t know that you felt that way, seriously.” he sat up and took your hand in his, playing with your fingers. The way his fingers traced yours, not only helped you calm down but him too. “I feel so fucking terrible. I don’t blame you, I should’ve talked to you about it.”

“I’m not making excuses right now, but I should’ve told you.” he sighed, “It’s been a really tough time at work, my schedule gives me no time to breathe, or do anything. I’ve been so tense recently and I've been so selfish that I didn't even stop to think about you,” he said, “about your feelings.”

“Wonwoo,” you cupped his cheeks, “I’m sorry too. I didn’t know you were feeling like that too, If only you had told me.”

“No, It isn’t your fault, babe,” he said, he looked at you and he chuckled to himself, “we should really communicate more.” you chuckled along with him. You looked into his eyes and noticed it shining with a different shine from the past week, it had love, care, and tenderness in it. It was the same shine that he had when he first met you, the night he first said ‘I love you to you’, the night you first kissed.

All those memories came back to you as you looked at him, his kind eyes, his soft smile, his fluffy hair, his warm hands. You reached over to him and kissed him. His lips were soft like they always were, and although kissing was something you normally did, this one felt different.

Love does feel different when it’s almost lost.

“I missed this,” he whispered against your lips, “I can’t believe I lived a week without your kiss.” you laughed as you rested your head on his chest. “And also,” he started, “that lady you saw in that article with me.” your head perked up at this, “It’s just my manager, seriously, she’s married and I don’t even think she likes that much.” you laughed, “please don’t over think, Y/N, we were just there to get drinks and we went back to the office.” he rolled over so that you were caged in his arms. “No one could ever replace you, I could never ever love anyone like I love you. Remember that, hmm?”

You nodded, smiling wide. Your heart felt lighter, your mind felt clearer, you were happier.

“If you did forget,” he smirked, removing his glasses, “I’ll help you remember.”

Extra: In the end, you didn’t end up leaving him, in fact it was tough for you to leave the bed at all.

–fin.

481 notes · View notes

jamespottersdaisy · 1 year

Text

Red.

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

"I'd rather not see you at all."

"You'd miss me."

based on a request.

warnings: banter, probably fluff, my writing

8.1k

author's note: i dont know how i feel about this but enjoy. english is not my first language so beware <3

You stood on your feet, staring dead into the brown eyes before you. You weren't even aware of your frown, but you were sure you didn't look happy. His mocking eyes were eliciting you, sending waves of rage down your chest.

"How about you two sit together?" James asked, smiling with his eyes.

You reminded yourself that your anger wasn't aimed at James but rather at his tall and vexatious friend. Thus, instead of snapping at him, you sent him a mere warning glare.

"Or you can just fight. That'll work," James shrugged and turned around.

Your eyes averted back to Remus, who had slouched behind your desk–the same desk you had been sitting behind for years.

"That is my seat, Lupin."

He didn't budge at all, keeping on staring at you.

"I didn't see your name on it."

You pinched the bridge of your nose. This boy was going to be the end of you.

"Remus," you said, "I've sat there last year and the year before that, please go find yourself another desk."

"It's a new school year, though, is it not? Make a change."

He must be testing your patience, which was at its limit. The lesson was about to start and yet you were still on your feet.

You blamed Remus for that.

The desk he had been resting behind was yours. You didn't need to write your name on it, everyone knew it was yours. For six years of Transfiguration, you had been sitting there, listening or sometimes disturbing the class with James and Sirius. It had a nice view of the board and could hide you well if needed.

Thus, you had always sat behind Pads and Prongs while Remus sat…

Well, you didn't know where he sat, but it was definitely not next to you.

"Miss Y/L/N, sit down please."

You closed your eyes for a moment when you heard Professor McGonagall's stern tone. With a quick glance around, it was obvious that you were the only one standing. So after a sharp exhale, you sat down next to Remus.

"Wanker."

Remus let out a derisive hum.

This. This was what would drive you crazy. This was what would make you want to strangle the boy, burn the body and get away with murder. That mocking, jeering and pleased hum.

James and Sirius would always tease you for not getting along with one person that anyone could get along with. Always fighting and bantering with one person that anyone could have a proper conversation with.

The problem was that they weren't exactly wrong.

You always witnessed how Remus was kind and gentle with everyone, rendering it absolutely impossible to bicker with him. He would smile and nod, easing his way out of every dilemma. He wouldn't pick a fight, and certainly wouldn't provoke anyone.

Except you.

With you, he was acting like a moronic person. Or that's what you thought.

When you were little, he would pull your braids in the mornings, but would mumble a quick 'I liked your hair today' in the evenings.

When you were famished for breakfast, he would grab the last waffle before you could, leaving you frowning with an aching hunger, but then leave bars of chocolate on your books during class breaks.

When you would be studying with the Marauders and couldn't cast a spell, he would smirk and mock your ineptness but would seek you out before the exam and explain how to move your wrist better than any professor could.

He would never disrespect you, but wouldn't let you stay sane throughout the day, either.

Lost between his inconsistent behaviours, you would find yourself confused, overthinking every tiny interaction to fathom if he cared for you or not. You would often decide on the latter.

For the sake of the other boys, you would ignore his gall and cheekiness. Although you had moments of outbursts, which would eventually lead to a bigger fight, you had managed to keep the problem under control so far.

"Miss, Y/L/N?"

You jerked your head up, finding the source of your name. McGonagall was piercing through you with her icy eyes, almost judging you for not listening, without voicing anything.

"Yes, professor?"

"Answer the question."

What question?

She asked a question?

You parted your lips, shuffling useless facts or overlooked memories in your mind to stumble upon the right one.

You felt one second drew out to one minute, or maybe it was simply your anxiety. Embarrassment was making its way under your skin with every second- or minute?

You were starting to sweat as your body was on fire.

"Levicorpus," Remus whispered under his mouth.

Not wasting a second, you repeated the word, earning a nod from the Professor. She turned away, carrying on with the lesson.

"What was the question?" you asked the boy. He didn’t bother to look at you.

"Pay attention next time."

“James, it’s a terrible, horrible, and incredibly foolish idea.”

You were dawdling around in the yard, enjoying the weather while you could. With the chill breeze mingling around your hair, nothing could ruin your peace. That is until the Marauders entered the scene.

“Exactly. That’s why we should do it.”

Being friends with James and Sirius was hard, especially if you’re the only one with common sense. Who would believe making a firework explosion in the middle of the Great Hall would earn them a ball to celebrate Christmas?

James and Sirius.

“We need to call Dumbledore’s attention. Bring it right up to the headmaster, or it won’t work,” Sirius backed up his friend. You ignored Remus’s scoff-like laugh.

“Your worry is that if you bomb up the Great Hall in front of any other professor except Dumbledore you won’t get a ball?”

“See, now you’re getting it-”

“What makes you think you will get a ball?”

James stopped walking, put his hands on each side of his waist in disappointment, and frowned.

“Now, you’re just repeating Moony.”

You glanced at Remus, who was staring at you with blank and tired eyes. This boy really needed to sleep, but that was another day’s problem. Your eyes lingered a bit longer on his attire before returning to James; tawny jumper with black lines and ivory trousers under a pastel orange trench coat.

“Rare moment of your Moony using his common sense,” you shrugged. “You know you’ll get a huge detention, right?”

“What else is new?” James smirked. “Are you gonna help us?”

The prospect of a ball during Christmas did entertain you. Fancy dresses and music, all while carousing with your friends was something no teenager would reject. And you knew if things wouldn’t go as planned, Marauders wouldn’t acknowledge your involvement; that was an agreement between the four boys even Remus had honoured. So you agreed to help them.

They made you regret it a few moments later in the Gryffindor common room.

“I’m not working with Remus.” you shook your head intently, wearing a displeased expression.

“Oh come on! Why not?” James pleaded. “You two are the best at Charms! You just need to figure out how to charm the fireworks to act how we want them to. Pete will get them and hide them, while Pads and I will handle transforming them into letters.”

“Because last time we worked on something together, it blew right in our faces.” you point at Remus with your hand. “I got zero when I could’ve got the best point available.”

“Wasn’t the potion perfect? Professor gave you a zero because you wouldn’t stop bickering,” Peter said. “It was very distracting.”

You cringed at the memory. Your hard work had held no value only for a little (or not so little) quarrel with your partner. The only nice outcome was that they rarely partnered you two together anymore.

Remus was slouched on the couch, legs apart with one hand placed on his thigh, while the other held a book. He lowered his book to look at your discontented face.

“I’m not happy about it either, yet you don’t see me whinging.”

You winced at him in aversion.

“I’d rather not see you at all.”

“You’d miss me,” he tilted his head, wearing a feigned smile.

James clapped his hands to prevent another incoming tiff.

“Alright, you two will start your research when you see fit and keep us updated. Don’t drag it out until November though, it’s a bit of a complicated matter.”

By the time a month had passed, you had figured that irritation was like a bunch of thorns piercing through your skin thanks to Remus. You had also learned that you can murder someone by spoon, but why would anyone bother themselves with shoving the spoon down Remus’s throat?

Therefore, you had been sitting with Remus every week, halting yourself from stabbing him with your quill. He wasn’t helping you out at all.

“Stop hitting my arm,” you whisper-shouted once more. Was Remus Lupin thick-headed? He didn’t look like it, so he probably just enjoyed getting a reaction out of you.

“What is your arm’s business next to mine? Sit properly.”

“Remus, If you haven’t noticed, you’re tall–”

“Thank you.”

“I didn’t mean it as a compliment, shut up,” your head snapped in his direction, facing his smug grin. “You’re taking much more space than me.”

“Well, sorry for you.”

“You’re distracting me from my studies.”

“You’re doodling right now,” he pointed to the paper before you with his brows. “And miserably failing, if I may add.”

“No, you may not–”

“Is that supposed to be a rabbit?” he inclined his head an inch more to the paper. You smelled his shampoo from his hair, crisp and woodsy and; the brown locks were so close you wanted to run your hand through them to see if they were real.

“That’s clearly a cat.”

“Why does your cat have two paws?”

“She’s sitting!”

“You really suck at this,” he propped his head back, offering you a pitiful look.

“Oh, and you’re rocking?”

“Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Y/L/N,” you flinched at your name from McGonagall.

“But professor, Lupin–”

“One more distraction and I will make it twenty.”

You clenched your jaw shut and lowered your head, letting embarrassment swallow you whole as all Gryffindor students sent you scrutinising glares. Of course, you would be the unlucky one that would get picked by the professor, not Remus, who was provoking you in the first place.

So, until the end of the class, you kept your head low and zoned out with your doodles.

You drew a circle, but it was more like a sun in your mind. Or the moon. You didn’t remember.

You drew ears for the moon, and it seemed like two triangles stuck to a circle, but you didn’t mind that either.

You even took some notes of the lesson but then you scribbled something that’s supposed to be a lamp or a cactus on them, so they weren’t very readable in the end.

You only snapped out of it when the unusual noise rioted, signalling that the class was dismissed. You had spent an hour doing nothing; an amazing use of time.

Remus pushed a parchment on your art pieces, covering them. You didn’t see what was scrawled on the parchment as Remus’s hand had blocked the ink.

“I do rock,” he said before heading out of the classroom.

You stared after him as he disappeared behind the door. You thought he would be in the library as you lifted the parchment.

It was a sketch of you from the side.

You took the red velvet cookie in your hand, examining it for any trace of poison. They seemed perfectly fine, delicious even. What was troubling you was that they were a treat from James. Thus, there was no way you could get good-looking, appetising, tasty cookies without a headache.

“Have you two started your research?”

That was it. You had a headache.

Therefore, you deserved the cookies. You took three of them in your hand and threw yourself next to Sirius. You turned to lock eyes with Remus, all while nibbling on your sweet.

You noticed him looking at you and then your hands and then...your lips? You immediately pushed the thought deep into your mind, not indulging it even a second. No, he was probably staring at the cookie next to your lips.

Unconsciously, you put the sweet down and arched a brow at him.

“Not yet,” he said without breaking eye contact with you.

You heard James groan and used it as an excuse to avert your eyes, but you could still feel his brown gaze set your body aflame. You couldn’t quite figure out if it was his hatred or something else that you refused to voice that was burning through you. You didn’t dwell on it.

“You’re waiting for Christmas Eve to do it?”

“Prongs is right, Pick a time and do your homework, lads,” Sirius agreed. “Pete is done already.”

“It’s hard to mentally prepare yourself for Remus,” you said, mouth half full.

“Don’t talk your mouth full, it’s disgusting.”

“You haven’t seen yourself eating, have you?”

“Here we go again,” James complained. “Just go to the bloody library and find the spells, will ya?”

Remus stood up, and strode up next to you, towering over you. You stared at him like he was a crazy person, which he was in your opinion.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“Now?”

“Yes, you have things to do?”

You didn’t have things to do. In fact, your only to-do list for today was eating red velvet cookies. That’s why you didn’t know why you were hesitant to go and be alone with Remus. You didn’t know why your heart started to pick a race, either.

“I’m…” You looked around, seeking an excuse that you knew didn’t exist. “Eating cookies?”

Remus grabbed the cookie jar. “You’ll eat them on our way to the library.”

All four boys were looking at you expectantly, so you hopped on your feet. You didn’t bother to take the jar from Remus.

“Don’t sulk, Y/N, it’s for the greater good!” You heard Sirius call after you.

You exited the common room, went down the stairs and hastened to the library. You didn’t look back for Remus; you knew he was there. You could feel his presence.

You didn’t question how he had managed to get the cookie jar in when you entered the library and he placed it on a table. You simply turned to the books, chasing their titles with your finger.

“What are we exactly looking for?”

“Something that will charm the fireworks to act how we want,” Remus mumbled, too focused on the book titles. You noticed him examining the shelves that you had passed because of your height. It both irritated and tingled you the way he effortlessly could reach the top shelves.

“And how do we want them to act?”

“Fly around in order, not the way they fly around usually.”

You hummed and didn’t engage in anything more. Taking a cookie from the jar, you started reading and digging into all sorts of books.

How to charm your brush to comb your hair?

Not the one you've been looking for but sounded nice, you should look it up some other time.

Charms to take revenge on the ones that wronged you.

Would Remus get suspicious if you picked that one? You should look that one up too, next time.

Charms for cheating in the exam.

Why did a school shelter a book like this?

Charms for celebrations.

You smiled, looking up at the red-covered book. If there was a celebration, then there certainly would be fireworks.

You stretched out your hand to take the book, but your fingers only brushed its spine.

You climbed on your tiptoes, trying again. This time you could feel the engraved title letters on the spine. But other than that, to no avail.

A heft and warmth, that didn’t belong to you, stroke your body. Your skin reacted faster than you did. You felt the surge of an unfamiliar heat and shivers under your skin, unable to fathom the hand on your hand.

You turned your head back, almost bumping it into Remus's chin. He wasn't looking at you, but you could see his clenched jaw and stiffened shoulders. The close proximity was suffocating, or maybe your breath had hitched. Either way, you held your breath.

Remus grabbed the red book, stepped back and started skimming it.

"You're starting,” he said.

It took you longer than usual to react to him.

"I found the book first," you said after recovering from the sudden and uncharacteristic surge of heat. You hoped your face wasn't flustered.

"Why didn't you take it first then?"

He was mocking your height difference, and it didn’t annoy you this time. It did, however, make you conscious of your heart’s rhythm.

"I was close. You interrupted me."

Remus looked up from the book, a teasing smile gleaming on his lips.

"The only thing you were close to was hitting your head on the shelf."

You frown, being absolutely free of his previous effect on you. You snatched the book out of his hand and sat behind the table. You didn't raise your head when Remus stood in front of you and over your head, with his arms placed on the table.

You focused on the ink, forgetting Remus’s suffocating presence. That’s why you didn’t want to be left alone with him.

After a few minutes and lines or pages, your eyes twinkled with mischief. Two pages of instruction on different ways of charming fireworks.

"Found it."

The easy part was done.

You let Remus take the book from you. He read the page with a wrinkle between his brows and nodded after finishing it.

“We’ll have to start practising it soon.”

“Have some pity, I exceeded my weekly tolerance of you, today,” you murmured. “I can’t spend any more time with you.”

“And what made you think that I enjoyed our time together?” Remus stepped a bit back and leaned into a shelf.

You parted your lips and then closed them again. Time had gone rather unproblematic with Remus today, and ended without a headache. It was almost...boring.

“You never even once did something to annoy me.”

His lips curved, eyes gleaming in amusement.

“Do you want me to annoy you?”

You hated the teasing in his tone. Something between confusion and disclosure hit you in the gut, goosebumps rose in your arm as a response to your fluttering heart.

“What? No, why would I–”

“Do you enjoy bickering with me, Y/N?”

“I don’t!"

“You sure? Sometimes it sounds like you’re picking fights with me on purpose.”

“You flatter yourself, Lupin,” you laughed, a bit awkwardly. He was smiling now, one step away from smirking. You noticed you rarely saw him smile this big around you. It was beautiful.

“Just like you said, I wasn’t the one annoying you today. You started it.”

You felt the temperature rise in your body, embracing you without your consent. You didn’t appreciate the way he threw the accusations at you or the way his eyes wrinkled adorably when he beamed.

“You’re not the only one hating the other.”

Your lips uttered the words but you didn’t hear yourself. You were too busy to stare at his changing expressions. His smile ebbed a little, but not enough to wipe the soft wrinkles around his eyes. He walked up to you, excruciatingly slow, looming over you. You watched his eyes rambling between your eyes, and even travelling to your lips, too. Your eyes, however, stayed only on the brown orbs, sorting out every layer, every colour, every blemish one by one.

“I don’t hate you,” you heard him drawl.

Before you could take in what he murmured, his face changed into something else. You fathomed it from the twitch in his jaw and his faltering blinks.

“You’re just annoying,” he said as if recovering his tone.

He stepped back, eyes lingering on your lips for one more second before turning away. You bit down your lips as you watched him exit the library.

“I brought candles,” you announced, tossing the candles to the wooden floor. They made an uncomfortably loud thud on the ground, causing you to grimace in displeasure.

“Yes, please make sure to break all of them. Don’t leave one unharmed,” you rolled your eyes at Remus’s cynical voice in the other corner of the Requirement Room.

You two have been visiting there to learn the charm of the fireworks every week. For two weeks, you had been working with the sticks and had mastered them. Thus, it was time to finally alter the sticks with candles, something that resembled a firework according to Sirius. They didn’t want to work on fireworks, it would be a waste for James.

“They’re fine. Don’t be dramatic,” you said to him as he walked up to you, glancing at the candles on the floor.

You felt him squat down, grabbing a white candle. He showed you a crack on it that wasn’t there before.

“It was there before.”

“Yeah, sure,” he grinned. “What’s with the colours?”

You shrugged. Why choose only white candles when you could have red and yellow and purple and pink also?

“Don’t mind the colours. Let’s start.”

Remus lit a candle as you took out your wand. He placed it on a chair, and stepped back, waiting for you to cast the spell.

When you first muttered the incantation, nothing happened.

You tried again, this time more fiercely both in your spelling and movements.

Nothing happened, The candle was sitting on the chair, mocking you with its flame. You were sure Remus was also repeating the same internally.

“You’re too hesitant to bend your wrist,” he said.

You didn’t hear any teasing in his voice but still cringed in embarrassment.

“You won’t put out the candle if you bend your wrist a bit hard, Y/N. Stop hesitating,” he said again.

You tried once more, despite the sweat forming on your temple from anxiety.

With sticks, it was easy. Say the spell, bend the wrist and aim the wand.

With candles, you were afraid you would mess it up somehow; maybe put out the fire or even start a bigger fire. It was a fire, after all, it was dangerous.

When you failed again, Remus made his way to you, standing only a step away behind you.

You felt his breath behind your neck as he closed that one step, laying his body onto yours. You didn’t manage to ask him what he was doing, you didn’t need to. Your heart dropped when he put his hand on yours, lifting it in the air. He aimed it towards the candle, but you were too out of it to apprehend.

Your whole body was focused on his skin on yours, savouring his touch on you without your permission. Suddenly, you didn’t think the sweat was from anxiety. You didn’t think your heartbeats were from embarrassment. You didn’t think your whole body was aflame because you were conscious of your ineptness.

You knew what it was. You knew what it was that set fires in the core of your chest, grasped the air from your lungs, and took the strength in your muscles away.

But you didn’t acknowledge it.

You let Remus move your arm, copying the instructions. You let him brush your hand with his fingers. You let him show you how to bend your wrist all while his hand on yours. You let him whisper the incantation in your ear.

You felt the void around your fingers when he withdrew his hand and his body from yours.

“Go on,” he said, so low you wouldn’t hear him if you weren’t holding your breath.

You aimed the wand, bent your wrist, and cast the spell.

The candle rose to the air, attracting a few candles to itself and lighting them up.

“Attagirl. My turn."

You said nothing as you stepped away, letting Remus place himself in front of the chair. You lighted another candle for him and put it on the chair.

You watched him take a stance and aim his wand. You didn’t know if it was because of his stance or his long legs or arms, but he looked…handsome.

He looked handsome with his serious expression; wrinkled brows, clenched jaw, stiff shoulders and narrowed eyes.

Heck, he looked handsome with his smiling expression too; curled-up pink lips, brown locks decorating his forehead, chestnut eyes glistening as his smile.

You cursed yourself at your admission.

He cast the spell, succeeding with the first attempt. The side of his lip inched up with pride for a tiny second.

You did it. You were ready for the plan. The only thing left was James and Sirius’s work.

He turned his eyes to yours.

“We did it.”

“Yes,” you nodded and got to collect the candles.

Remus frowned, visibly uncomfortable at something.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“What?”

You refused to glance at him. You didn’t want to admit anything else just because his ridiculous gorgeousness affected you.

“Something’s wrong. You’re acting weird.”

“How am I acting weird? I’m just cleaning up the mess so we can go and eat.”

“Yeah, but,” he started helping you out by gathering the unused candles, “You’re a bit–”

“I didn’t know you cared about me,” you snapped your head in his direction.

He stopped whatever he was doing. You saw him swallow.

“I don’t.”

“Good.”

You almost threw your candles at him.

“I’m going to dinner.”

You didn’t wait for him. As you exited the room, you reminded yourself that he thought of you as annoying.

“Stop panicking.”

“I’m not panicking!” You wiped your palms on your cloak, counting to ten to calm your nervousness.

“Yeah, sure, that’s why your breath is unsteady.”

“Why are you even focused on my breath?”

You frowned when Remus didn’t reply.

It was a big day. In the end, you'll either end up dreaming about your ball dress or worrying about the detention.

James and Sirius were in the Great Hall, hidden under the Invisibility Cloak. They were waiting for your charmed fireworks as you and Remus were waiting for Peter to bring them behind the gate.

Everyone was busy eating their dinner, like a casual evening. Chatters and clatters were mingling in the air, serving you an opportunity for secrecy.

Remus was standing next to you–a bit close, as your arms were glued together. His eyes were on the corner where James and Sirius were, as your eyes should be looking for Peter.

Except that you weren't looking for Peter.

No matter how much you wanted to prevent it, your eyes were drawn to Remus.

For the last fifteen days, it had been this way. You would look for Remus in every corner, and your heart would chirp like a bird when you would find him. You would start agitating him so maybe he would react, and wouldn’t back down when he would annoy you first.

Even now, you couldn’t help but steal secret peeks at him. Sharp jawline and unblemished face despite the scars were completed with downy hair and hazel eyes.

He was stunning and you were attracted to him. Your five-years-ago self would roll her eyes at you if she was to see you. You were attracted to him despite his annoyance with you, and your pride hated you for that.

You were sure if Remus knew your newly emerging feeling for him, he would mock you to the point you cried.

You turned your head away from Remus when you heard heavy step voices. Peter was bringing a box full of fireworks, trying to be as discreet as possible in the meantime. You stepped up and helped him. He nodded at you before entering the Great Hall like a starved boy whose only intention was to have dinner.

You pulled Remus’s sleeve and he turned to you. You heard him mumble ‘right’ under his breath before taking out his wand. You repeated the same, waiting for him to sort out the fireworks.

“We’ll do it at the same time, remember. Or James won’t be able to Accio all of them at once.”

You nodded, aiming your wand all while alerting your senses to Remus’s voice. Between all the noise from the Great Hall, he had to raise his tone from whispers.

“One. Two. Three.”

Both of you cast the spell. You made sure to bend your wrist this time. Two of the fireworks lit up and attracted other fireworks to themselves. Remus sent James the signal.

Seconds passed, but the fireworks weren’t Accio’d anywhere.

You waited a bit more, glancing at Remus to see him do the same with a frown.

Another few seconds passed.

Nothing.

It was getting dangerous. You couldn’t be near them. They were about to blow up.

You squirmed close to the wall, adrenalin filling up your veins and piercing your heart. Remus was sending the signal over and over again but to no avail.

You wanted to run but your legs were glued to the ground, not even managing to help your standing let alone running. You winced as the firework got close to blowing by a second.

One more second and it was going to explode right in your faces.

One.

You felt Remus’s body on yours, pushing you hard to the wall, almost squeezing you with his torso. His arms held your sides as you leaned into him, clenching your eyes shut.

You waited for the big hit.

But it never came.

Remus raised his head from yours, checking around.

Fireworks weren’t there.

Just when you moved to get away from Remus’s hold, blaring cracks emerged in the air. You let out a scream, thinking it came from near you. Remus squeezed your arms, snapping his head to you.

“Bloody hell, Y/N, my ears just bled.”

You looked around frantically, still standing between Remus and the wall. Your eyes averted back to Remus when you saw the real firework art was going on in the Great Hall. The fireworks were forming letters.

Chatters had turned into cheers, screams of excitement and joy echoing in your ears. You felt the colours of the fireworks on the walls, halls, your clothes and Remus’s body.

Remus’s body, which was too close to yours.

“Sorry,” you uttered, gazing into the depth of his brown.

“You alright?” he asked low, not letting you out of his grasp.

“Yeah, yeah,” you nodded. “You?”

“I’m alright.”

“Good.”

“Good,” he drawled, repeating to you.

His hands around your biceps were now burning up your skin. He was supposed to let you go now. Let you go and put a distance between your bodies.

Your heart cried at the thought of space. You begged and hoped and prayed that he wouldn’t loosen his grip.

You started counting seconds. He didn’t let go.

His stare at you darkened, breathing getting heavier by the second.

Your eyes lowered to his lips. They looked both soft and chapped. He parted his lips.

You looked back into his eyes. They were piercing through you, welcoming thoughts in your head that you so desperately shunned. You felt his touch on your skin tighten.

You yearned for his touch not only on your arm but every inch of your body.

You reminded yourself that he was annoyed by you.

You didn’t blink. You didn’t inhale. You didn’t exhale.

You put your hands on his face and crashed your lips onto his.

The butterflies inside you resonated with the fireworks inside the Great Hall. Your heart quivered at the feeling of his lips on yours. Your chest flamed up in lust, your body smiled when you felt Remus’s hands wander to your back.

He kissed you back, welcoming the passion to run free in your veins.

You arched your back just to have him closer. You felt his slips stretch into a smirk, his fingers digging into your skin.

You kissed him harder.

His heavy breaths mingled with yours, hovering over your face. Your whole body shivered under his silky lips, sheltering the heat of your chest under his touch. His hands covered every inch of your body, learning it by heart. The heft of your lust drowned under the intensity of his manoeuvres.

Your heads were up in the clouds, unaware of anything going down around you.

You forgot where you were. You forgot what you were doing. You forgot why you were doing what you were doing. The dark in your eyes leaked shadows in your mind, blackening every thought.

That is until three boys intervened.

You pushed Remus away, putting the distance you so despised between you two. You pushed your lips together in an attempt to hide their red and swollen state. You ignored the cry of your lips, body, heart and soul for Remus’s caress.

“WE DID IT! WE’RE GOING TO CELEBRATE CHRISTMAS WITH A BALL!”

You grinned at James and let the boys have their celebration. You didn’t cast a glance at Remus. You didn’t see him not taking his eyes off of yours for even a second.

It was Friday. The last Transfiguration class before the well-deserved ball.

You were seated behind your desk, definitely not waiting for Remus.

You two hadn’t talked about the kiss since it happened. Hell, you hadn’t even talked to each other properly.

You might be ignoring him a little bit.

You were leaving the room when he was entering, going to sleep when he was approaching you, and being busy when he was trying to talk to you.

You might be ignoring him not so little bit.

Your leg was bouncing up and down, and you were fighting with your urge to not check the door every ten seconds. You hadn't quite figured out how you were feeling, but you knew it was something intense that your hands were freezing not because of the winter but because of the nervousness.

The same nervousness that made your mouth run dry when you saw Remus enter the classroom. The same nervousness that made you breathe quicker and feel dizzy when you felt Remus sit down next to you. The same nervousness that turned yanked the colours out of your face when you heard him talk.

“Will you run again if I open my mouth?”

“You just did,” you say, trying to sound as casual as you could. You weren’t facing him just the way he wasn’t facing you.

“And you didn’t run.”

“I didn’t.”

“Good,” he nodded. “You’ve been ignoring me.”

“No?”

His head snapped at you, forcing you to turn to him as well.

“Don’t mock me, Y/N,” he warned, irritated.

“I’m not mocking you, Remus. I’m just–”

“What did I do wrong?” he cut you off. “Tell me.”

Your heart skipped a bit at his question, clenching around a pain that you wished to ignore.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I don’t understand,” he frowned. “ You kissed me. So, I’m guessing you wanted it.”

You didn’t reply, too busy reliving the whimsical moment that had been keeping you awake at night, attacking your heart with butterflies.

“You did want it, right?”

“Yes,” you snapped back to the moment. “Yes, I did.”

“Then tell me what I did wrong and maybe I can rectify it,” he said. “Tell me what I did that you’re ignoring me.”

You didn’t know what to tell him.

You couldn’t tell him that you were running from him because you were too embarrassed to look him in the eye and admit that you were attracted to him. You couldn’t tell him that you were still figuring out what you were feeling, too afraid to get your heart broken.

You couldn’t tell him that despite your fears and doubts, you were still yearning for the sound of his laugh and craving the touch of his skin on your skin. You couldn’t tell him that there wasn't a moment in which your mind could offer you any other thought than him.

So you told him the first thing that came to your mind.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. It was me. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

Remus looked appalled, eyebrows furrowing.

“What?”

“It was a mistake.”

“A mistake?”

“Yes.”

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head.

“We both know it wasn’t a mistake. Stop lying to yourself.”

“I-I just don’t think it’s a good idea for us to–”

“I’m not asking you to marry me.”

“I know!” you said, losing your temper for a second. “I know, Remus. I’m just not sure about...well, everything.”

You watched him inhale deeply, contemplating something in his mind. You wished to know what was going on in his head but didn’t ask.

“We can, uh,” he started, “We can try to be friends.”

“Friends?”

“Yeah, until we figure out whatever this is.”

You stared into his eyes, they weren’t pleased. Like they were keeping something back. You didn’t know how to ask him that, so you didn’t

“Friends,” you repeated as if testing the word. “I guess it can work.”

Remus nodded and stretched out his hand to you. You stared at his hand for a moment, recalling the way they caressed your skin a few days ago. You ached for that feeling.

“Anytime before I graduate would be nice,” he said.

You muttered a quick ‘sorry’ before shaking his hand.

Geoffrey Fawley had asked you to be his date for the ball.

He was a nice boy from what you had heard from James. He was in the Quidditch team with James and was a good chaser. Of course, you hadn’t mentioned either James or Sirius about your date. You wanted them to be surprised so you could mock them later on.

You hadn’t mentioned Remus about it, either. Why should you? Right?

It was only two days since you had agreed to be friends and in those two days you barely even talked, mainly because you were too busy choosing a dress for the ball.

To your delight, you had found the perfect one.

Checking your attire with one last glance, you turned your heels and walked out of the dorm room straight to the hall.

Geoffrey was waiting for you with a smile; he was an undeniably charming boy, you had to admit. Blonde hair sparkling above the green eyes with a graceful frame, he could steal any girl's heart.

Except that yours was already stolen by a pair of brown eyes.

You pushed Remus's visage deep in your mind, refusing to revive your disappointment when he didn't ask you out to the ball as his date.

You let Geoffrey take your hand and curtly lead you from the door to the ball.

"You look absolutely gorgeous."

"Thank you," you smiled.

As you two occupied yourself with small talk, you didn’t notice James and Sirius making their way to you. You had learned that Geoffrey has two elder sisters, he doesn’t like chocolate and he unsurprisingly loves Quidditch. He was kind, sensible, and a great listener.

He was everything and nothing you ever wanted. He wasn’t Remus.

“Fawley! Y/N is your date?!” James called, smiling from ear to ear as he approached you.

“Yes, Potter. Apparently, she deemed me worthy of standing by her side tonight,” Geoffrey joked back, smiling at you gently.

“Ah, yes, fancy words,” Sirius dropped his arm around your shoulders. “Have you kissed yet? Her lipstick looks intact.”

“Sirius!” you hit him in the torso.

“I’ll take this as a no and head out to Remus,” Sirius said, “He’s been a moody bitch these days.”

“Where’s he?” you asked, forcing your tone to the casual.

James turned back, pointing at someone with his hand.

“There. The one with the sour face and brown hair.”

He had leaned against a wall, looking around with a frown. He was captivating in a black suit, his hair falling into all the right places and creating an art-like view. You enjoyed the view a few moments more, memorising every little detail about his figure. You wished he could be a bit closer to you.

“He doesn’t look like he enjoys himself. Should we invite him?” Geoffrey asked.

“I don’t think that’s necessary. He looks comfortable–”

“Nonsense, Y/N,” Sirius cut in. “Oi! Moony! Come here!”

You squeezed your lips together as Remus reached you. He was without a date.

Would it be malicious if you felt relieved by that?

“You guys have fun. Lily is waiting for me,” James said before leaving you four together.

“He is with Lily?” you asked Sirius, both surprised and happy.

“Geoffrey must have really swept you off your feet,” Remus drawled, staring into your eyes.

You felt uncomfortable. Not because of Remus’s words but because of Geoffrey’s presence. You smiled at Remus awkwardly, knowing you had Geoffrey’s eyes on you.

“You don’t have a date, Remus?”

“No,” he said to you. You felt cold at his tone.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find someone here.”

“I don’t want to find someone.”

You felt Geoffrey grab your hand.

“Would you like to dance?”

You smiled and nodded at him, letting him carry you to the dance floor.

He put his hand on your waist as you placed your hand on his shoulder. He intertwined your other hands together and started moving with the rhythm.

You glanced at his eyes only for a moment before dragging them to every corner of the room. They landed on Remus.

His eyes cut through your chest like a dagger, reminding you of every feeling your skin, heart and soul had felt two days ago.

You hated that you felt nothing if it wasn’t Remus touching you. You hated that you felt nothing if it wasn’t Remus smiling at you. You hated that you felt nothing if it wasn’t Remus’s words that were whispered in your ear.

“You seem distracted.”

“Oh,” you locked eyes with Geoffrey again, smiling. “Forgive me.”

“It’s Lupin, isn’t it?”

“Excuse me?”

“You have been acting weird since he stopped by.”

Your smile ebbed as guilt prickled inside of your chest. Geoffrey chuckled at your fortified expression.

“It’s alright, you know. I knew you had no feelings for me when I asked you. I just didn’t think you may have feelings for another.”

You lowered your head to his chest. There was no point in denying it.

“I’m so sorry Geoffrey, truly. I didn’t mean to disrespect you–”

“You haven’t”

“Or offend you.”

“You haven’t either,” he shook his head in a warm smile.

“I shouldn’t have said yes,” you mumbled before looking up at him.

“I’m glad that you did. I wouldn’t be able to move on if I didn’t hear you reject me.”

You admired his genuinity, and his pleasant smile and his gentle manner.

You adored his kindness and good heart. He was the kind of boy that would never annoy you, bicker with you or hurt your feelings.

But he wasn’t the kind of a boy that would make your heart race in excitement, passion and desire.

He wasn’t Remus.

When the dance ended, you couldn’t find Remus.

“Go,” Geoffrey said, “I’ll be alright. It’s obvious that you two need to talk.”

You thanked him before placing a short peck on the cheek. Then, you dashed to Sirius, who was too busy getting drunk.

“Padfoot, where’s Remus?” you yelled, attempting to drown the music.

“Where’s who?”

“Remus! Where’s Remus?!”

“I’m here,” you startled at his voice behind you.

You parted your lips to speak to him but he acted faster.

“Come with me,” he said, holding your hand and dragging you away from the people.

He led you to another room and closed the door after him.

“A bit quiet.”

You nodded, feeling the blood in your veins rush. It had only been a second since you were alone with him and your feelings were already messed up.

An awkward silence filled the room.

“Remus, I don’t want to–”

“You didn’t tell me you–”

You sighed, hoping that he would talk first. And he did.

“You didn’t tell me you had a date.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“I didn’t know I had to.”

“I thought we were…friends,” his teasing tone daunted your nerves. You forgot what you were searching Remus for.

“We’re not that close friends.”

“You seemed pretty close with Geoffrey.”

Pride clawed at your insides, taking an internal scream from you. It didn’t hurt, you felt powerful.

“Jealous much?” you managed to hide the smirk but you didn’t hide the smug tone. You saw Remus clench his jaw and clear his throat before talking.

“What if I am?”

“Then I’d ask you the reason,” you said. Your smug tone changed into something different, something desirous.

“Don’t tire yourself, love. I’m not jealous.”

“Nice,” you smiled, stepping forward. “Then you wouldn’t mind if I returned to my date.”

Remus filled the void between you and the door with his body, not letting you go through. You peeked at his lips momentarily.

“We’re not done talking.”

You hoped you could cover your jitters with cheekiness because your heart was racing, your mouth was dry and your hands were trembling with anticipation. You didn’t even want to mention the surges of fire and flood inside you exhausting each other.

“Oh, isn’t this new? You finally want to talk to me after years of vexation.”

“That’s what friends do, right?” he shrugged.

The way that ‘friend’ word agitated you was ridiculous.

“I’m all ears,” you told him, still not backing away from him, holding onto the distance that could easily be conquered with one step.

You were finally close enough to him to easily feel him under your touch. You could see the beauty marks, freckles and scars vividly. You wouldn’t even need to get closer to caress them. You only needed to raise your hand and–

“I fancy you.”

Your eyes shot up from his lips to his eyes, widening in bemusement. You chose not to let your ears deceive you, not to let the words plant hope in you, not to let butterflies escape their cage.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he frowned. “I’ve been fancying you since you were a little girl and I was a little boy.”

“You hated me when you were a little boy and I was a little girl.”

You shook your head. He did the same.

“No, I didn’t. Annoying you was the only way to get you to talk to me, so I clung to it for years.”

You felt the heft weighing you down drag you onto the surface, letting you finally breathe. You felt the fireworks inside you, or maybe that was just butterflies. Your heart chirped in its cage, ready for you to set it free.

“I fancy you, too.”

You set your heart free from its cage. You let him fly away, welcoming the warmth that the boy before you had to offer.

Remus straightened and closed the distance between you two.

“You do?”

“Yes,” you whispered. “I do.”

You closed your eyes, giving into the night when you felt Remus’s hand on your cheek. You drew a breath in when you felt his other hand on your waist. You parted your lips when you felt his hot breath on your lips.

Anticipation climbed its way from your stomach all the way to your heart, shaking your breath. One more inch closer and you would die in his lips, one more second later and you would break down under his touch, one more breath in and you would crumble into pieces by his kiss.

“Would you like to see how I ruin a friendship in a second?”

“Yes,” you pleaded.

He closed the one last inch, spent the one last second and inhaled the one last breath.

He kissed your lips.

You died in his lips, broke down under his touch and crumbled into pieces by his kiss.

His lips, so soft and silky, intoxicated your mind. His touch, so gentle yet so firm, ignited your skin. His skin under your hands, so warm and flawless, blazed your fingertips.

You melted under him, ready to die in his arms.

He kissed your lips until they were red and swollen. He kissed you until you were breathless and dizzy. He touched you until he sent shivers down your spine.

When you pulled away, his eyes dark and in trance were still on your lips, his lips placing pecks on all over your face.

You smiled into his lips, letting him embrace you.

“James owes Sirius ten sickles.”

“What?” you laughed, taking in his scent.

“Two years ago they had a bet on us,” he said, and you loved the way ‘us’ echoed between his lips. “Sirius said sooner or later we would get together."

“We just made Sirius ten sickles richer.”

I love that I can write Remus both as a kind, gentle, sweet boy and as a mysterious, complicated but hot boy. It just makes sense in both ways.

Anyways, if you've read this far, thank you so much for your time. And thank you to the person that sent the request.

Please let me know what you think!

and if you loved this fic or my writing, buy me a coffee <33

#remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #remus lupin #remus x you #the maruaders #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin angst #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin smut #remus lupin supremacy #remus lupin scenario #harry potter #andrew garfield #taylor swift

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