#I don’t feel like we really got to the heart of her beyond love interest and exposition box. this angle interests me. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

empress-simps · 1 month

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for remus, maybe a fic where he has a crush on fem!slytherin reader, and maybe the rest of the gang disapproves (at least initially) because of the silly house rivalry between gryffindor and slytherin? hopefully they’ll warm up to her because she’s actually really sweet and likes remus back, and they see how good for him she is :)

Hi darlingg! Thank you for this request, this is so adorable, and it was so fun to write :) I somehow made it a bit angsty...sorry about that I got carried away. Hope you enjoy! Pictures are from pinterest, credits to the owner!

Beyond The Surface

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Fem! Slytherin! Reader CW: Sirius being dramatic, Remus getting angry, and Language

He never really planned to fall in love. Remus thinks it would be better if he just lives his life in solitude; away from the confusing and complicated world of romantic relationships.

He doesn’t think anyone should bear the responsibility of having a werewolf boyfriend. Remus wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he even touched a single hair on your body during that time, he desperately tries to convince himself that his friends and their future children will be enough to warm his heart who secretly yearns to have his own family.

‘It’s for the best, they wouldn’t suffer because of me.’ Remus thought, being the selfless person he was. Although, his plans that he so desperately tried to put up all came crumbling down when you came into the picture.

He didn’t think of it much at first. Remus thought it was just a simple crush that would go away in about three days or so. He was completely wrong.

“Remus Lupin, right? I’m Y/n Rosier, we’re assigned partners in potions.”

You sat beside him, beaming a smile that Remus was certain you were a gift for him from the Gods above. Merlin- you were simply breath taking. That was the first time he felt butterflies on his stomach, feeling his cheeks heat up as you offered a handshake.

“N-nice to meet you, Rosier.” He took your soft hands into his rough, and scarred ones. Shaking it as he desperately tries to ignore the sparks that seemed to go off inside him. Your face grimaced as your last name rolled off his tongue.

“Y/n is fine.” Remus nods, noticing your reaction. He was wondering how someone like you managed to survive other annoying Slytherins as your housemates.

“Alright then, Y/n. Call me Remus, yeah?”

That marks the beginning of an unlikely friendship of a Gryffindor half-blood with a Slytherin pure blood.

“Shall we begin?”

“Alright, but you lead. My skills are no good in potion making.” He jokes, making a small chuckle escape your throat. “I am quite aware.” She teases.

Being partnered with him for a Potions project meant that you would often meet up in the library, spending long hours sitting beside each other in silence, flipping page after page as Remus occasionally puts back books but returning with 5 more.

“Remmy, look here.” You pointed, not noticing how Remus blushed at his newfound nickname as he leaned to your seat, placing one arm on the back of your chair, his tall frame nearly engulfing you as he reads the contents of the page you found interesting.

He suddenly pales, his eyes transfixed on the title of the page. “Wolfsbane potion…” He whispers, eyes scanning the page quickly before looking at you. You hummed, flipping into another page to see how to make the said potion.

“Right, I figured we should make this for our project. What do you think? I think Polyjuice potion is a tad bit boring, hm?” She mused, seeking his opinion on the matter.

Remus parted his mouth to speak, yet the words seem to vanish at the back of his throat. You shot him a worried look, “Do you not like it? You could say so, don’t pretend nothing is wrong, Remmy.”

He blinks, trying to compose himself. “Ah, no-nothing’s wrong. It’s just that…”

You raised your eyebrows curiously, urging him to continue. “What? You know someone who’s a werewolf?” She jokes, trying to lighten the atmosphere as she lightly elbows him.

“I do.” He chokes out, the confession was unexpected, even to him. Remus doesn’t even know why on Earth he’s about to tell you one of his darkest and deepest secrets. It was probably because of your warm and inviting aura. It’s like you wouldn’t judge anyone based on first impressions, appearance, and what you’ve heard about them until you can see for yourself.

Remus felt like he could trust you, and his instincts are almost never wrong.

“Well, maybe the potion we’ll brew can help them?” You offered a smile.

“It certainly would be of help to me.”

You stilled; your hand that was about to get your quill hovered as you looked at him in shock.

“You’re a werewolf?” You whispered quietly; eyes that were surprised stared into his nervous, amber ones. Remus could only nod, an inkling doubt and regret slowly crept up to him. Did he make the right decision? Was he wrong this time? Would you hold it against him?

Your face turned serious, clasping his hand on the table with yours, you looked at him in the eye. “Your secret is safe with me; I would never tell it to anyone. If it helps, I will even make an unbreakable vow, Remus.”

He widened his eyes, “N-no! It’s alright, I trust you, Y/n.” You visibly relaxed, smiling lightly, squeezing his hand, a soft look was sent his way.

“Thank you for trusting me, Remus. If you’d like, I’ll brew you a supply of wolfsbane from time to time.”

If Remus wasn’t in love before that, he certainly is now.

“Out of all the people you could’ve chose to like it was a Rosier?!” Sirius screeched, a horrified look on his face as he grabbed Remus’s shoulder and looked at him straight in the eyes. The said boy frowned “What about it?”

Sirius blanched, “Are you daft, Moons?” He threw his hands up in the air, looking at the rest of the marauders and Lily, wanting them to side with him. Lily’s lips pressed into a thin line; she does not quite agree with Sirius but there’s still a possibility. It doesn’t help the fact that you are a Slytherin; the house that reeks of cunning pure-blooded wizards.

Peter looked anywhere to just not meet the eyes of Remus, clearly uncomfortable. While James frowned, a troubled look on his face as he clasped Lily’s hand. “The Rosier family… they’re not exactly known for their…,” he started, but Sirius cut him off.

“Rosiers are evil! Slytherins! Pureblood Supremacists! Death Eaters!”

Remus frowns, reading the room and the reactions of his friends. The message was clear without words: none of them supported Remus’s interest in a Slytherin, a Rosier no less.

“Give her a chance, she’s different.” Remus tried to make his friends listen to him. Sirius scoffed, rolling his eyes. James sighed, looking at Remus. “Moony, it’s just… We never thought you would fancy a Slytherin.” Remus pursed his lips, “Yeah, I never thought you and Lily would end up together but here we are.” James grimaced at his words.

“There’s tons of girls who fancy you, Moony.” Peter tells him. Remus frowned, feeling annoyance stir inside him. “They’re not her, Wormtail. All I’m saying is that Lily and you blokes should give her a chance before you make assumptions.” He spat, glaring at Sirius before leaving the room.

“Rem? Mon amour, what’s wrong?” She frowns, placing her book down as Remus entered the library, heading straight to her usual place but the window. Remus sighs, shaking his head. He couldn’t possibly tell you what happened, how Sirius thought you were just those pesky Slytherins they pull pranks on.

“They do not like me.” She stated, looking down with a frown as she fiddled with her thumbs.

“Honey, it’s not your fault.”

“I know, amour.”

Remus felt his lips press into a thin line, gently taking your hands in his, trying to stop your nervous habit. “They’re still wrapping their heads around it. They’ll come around, don’t worry about it love.” You sighed shakily, “I hope so.”

Remus traced shapes across the back of her hand, “Anything interesting happened today?”

“Evan and I got into a fight; said I was a blood traitor…” You trailed off, noticing how Remus’s jaw tightened and his stare hardened. “But it was alright, we made up. He just told me to be careful.” To say Remus was surprised was an understatement. “He couldn’t be angry at his twin sister for a long time.” She smiles.

“Black! What the fuck did you do?!” Remus roars, grabbing a fistful of the said boy’s shirt, pushing him against the wall as James tried to pull him off, “Come on, Moons-“

“Don’t bloody touch me, James!” He bellows, pushing off the Potter boy who stumbled away, shock evident in his features. Peter quickly got up from his bed, “Moony, why are you so angry? What did he do?” He drops shoves Sirius off as he stared at his friends.

“It was you guys who pulled a prank on her right? “Remus’s eyes brimmed with unshed tears, pointedly looking at Sirius. “Well congratulations, she’s being treated by Madame Pomfrey right now.”

Sirius felt shame and guilt ate him up. The prank was never supposed to go that far.

“Ever wondered why I was suddenly so calm during the full moon? It’s all thanks to her. She makes me batches of wolfsbane potion every month, without fail.”

James choked, “You told her?”

“I did”

“What if she tells everyone?” Peter frowns, concerned for Remus.

“If she wanted to, then the whole school would’ve already known, she even suggested an unbreakable vow.” Remus uttered out, sitting at his bed, looking away from them “Some kind of friends you guys are. I care about her, and if you hurt her, you hurt me too.”

Sirius cautiously approached him, “Moons, I’m sorry.” He began. James placed a hand on his shoulder, “I know, we’re knobheads. Sorry, Moony.” Peter nods, “We messed up, it won’t happen again.”

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to her.”

“We will, Moony.”

An hour has passed after you got treated by Madame Pomfrey, you wanted to leave as you already felt alright but she insisted you stay for an hour or two just so she could monitor you. Having no choice but to oblige.

“Love?” Your ears perked up, the sound of Remus’ voice calling out to you. You turned and smiled at his direction, although suddenly dropping it as you saw the rest of the Marauders and Lily following him.

Trying to alleviate the awkward atmosphere, Sirius pulls out a bouquet of flowers. “Remus told us you like Tulips…” You were about to take it but stopped, James seemed to notice this. “It’s not jinxed, or anything like that.” You bit your lip, silently looking at Remus as if asking was it safe, he nods. “I was there when they picked it out love.” You finally took the bouquet, nodding gratefully. “Thank you.”

“We wanted to say we were sorry.” James started; Lily nodded. “It was quite shameful that we made such accusations and judged you before even getting to know you.”

“I’m sorry, Y/n. We…we were just looking out for Moony.” Sirius sighed; shame visible in his features.

“I understand, I probably would have done the same. I’d also look out for the people I care about.” You softly replied. “It’s okay, I forgive all of you.” You looked at them.

James stepped forward, “We hope you can give us a chance to make it up to you.” Sirius cleared his throat, “And maybe, if you’re up for it, join us for a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks?” His attempt at a smile was hopeful.

Your lips curved into a genuine smile, your body slowly becoming relaxed. “I’d like that,”

#remus x reader #remus fluff #moony x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus x y/n #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #remus lupin #james and lily #james potter #sirius black #marauders era #harry potter #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic

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nerdyandweird · 4 months

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Trapped (Lord Voldemort/Tom Riddle x Reader)

****Situation: Lord Voldemort/Tom Riddle x Reader – Lord Voldemort (Tom) in his 30s has captured reader because he has taken interest in her. He still looks handsome. Imagining Actor Tom Hughes as older Tom Riddle in this case, but you're free to imagine the gorgeous and lovely Christian Coulson as well! Warning- lots of make out scenes and lack of consent from reader/possessive Tom. P.S. I don’t condone any sort of toxic behavior or relationships in real life nor am I encouraging anyone to pursue relationships with any murderers in real life. LOL. Anyways, enjoy!****

“Well, well, well.. What have we got here?” You hear a voice as the blindfold is taken off of your eyes.

“What am I doing here?” You ask, feeling scared.

"Oh, come now. Don't be like that. You're here because I've decided to take you with me." You see a man smirking in front of you.

“But why?”

The man holds you chin delicately, but firmly between his fingers making you look directly into his eyes. “My dear, there's no sense in playing stupid. It doesn’t suit you. I took you because I want you.”

“What?”

"You heard me." He approaches you and reaches out to take your hand. "This is fate, sweetheart. The two of us were meant to be."

You quickly retract your hand from his. "I don't even know who you are. What are you talking about?"

He smirks, amused by your reaction. His green eyes shine with a mocking light. "Oh, I'm talking about the fact that I finally met someone more stubborn than me. Don't you have the slightest idea what my name is?"

You shake your head at his question.

He leans closer to you as he talks to you in an alluring whisper. His breath flows over your face. "You really don't know? Well here's a hint." He whispers into your ear.

"I'm the Dark Lord."

Your heart freezes at the name. He's Lord Voldemort? Him? You glance at his appearance, seeing a well-dressed, handsome young man with a dark smirk adorning his face as he looks amused at my startled and confused expression. He's the dark lord that has set terror in the wizarding world.

He sees the effect that his name and identity has on you and chuckles. “It's amusing to see how just the mere mention of my name can terrify you.” This feeling of fear felt delicious to him and he decides to capitalize on this fear.

"So... does my name still sound so unfamiliar to you now?"

“How? How can this be?” You ask out loud to yourself.

He continues to portray a dark smile. He loves that you're so perplexed. "You're a bright girl." He says as he gets even closer to you, his breath blowing against your neck. "But let me help you understand something."

He runs the back of his hand against your neck. "No matter how much has changed, I'm still me, I will like you to join me as a fellow companion and death eater. In return, I will be your Lord and your entire being is now completely mine to consume and possess. Regardless of our circumstances, my dear, I can read your mind like an open book and can see that you can't deny your attraction to me."

“What i feel for you is fear, not attraction. I could never fall for a terrible being like you. You're a monster!” You yell at him in defiance.

He chuckles. "Look at you, trying to hold on to your pride. I admire that.” He moves his mouth even closer to your neck.

"But you can’t resist this feeling... this burning desire. You're feeling the urge to let go and surrender to me. Your body is pleading with you to stop resisting it. That's why you're trembling right now."

"Let go of me." You say sternly, putting your hands on his chest to push him away.

He grasps your wrists firmly and looks deep into your eyes, not letting go of you. "You're playing with fire here."

He moves even closer to you, his mouth almost brushing against yours. "You can't deny the heat between us. Our connection goes far beyond just a physical attraction. It's a powerful and undeniable connection."

Your breath hitches at the feeling of his lips brushing against yours. With his grasp firmly on your wrists, he leans in to kiss you. His lips touch yours, firm and sensual, sending shivers up your spine. He pulls you in so that he’s holding your body tightly against his.

You resist in return, using your hands to push him away from you. But, his grip on your wrists tightens as he moves his mouth against yours, not letting you pull away from him. He keeps his lips pressed against yours, kissing you firmly and passionately. Your bodies confined tightly against each other as he pulls you inhumanly close to him. His breath is hot and raspy, and his touch is rough and overpowering.

You inhale his musky masculine scent filling up your nostrils as he continues to move his lips forcefully against yours and you try your best not to give in, your heart feeling like it will jump out of your body. Your attempts to resist his kisses are futile. He keeps his lips firmly against yours, not letting you pull away. Your lips feel so soft, and the taste of you is addictive to him. He’s determined to have you in every way possible.

He pushes you against the wall as your bodies press tightly against each other. He slips his hands down to your waist and grab your hips firmly, making it clear that there’s no escape from this passionate and consuming embrace.

You whimper as he just gets rougher with you.

But that doesn’t stop his advances. His intentions are set on claiming you as his own. He keeps kissing you while trapping your body with his against the wall. His breath is hot against your neck as he momentarily pulls away from your lips. He can feel you trembling beneath him as you try to resist him.

Your body betrays you, though, with its response to his touches. Even though you're trying your best to hold off his embrace, you find yourself getting closer and closer to succumbing to the desire that he’s eliciting within you.

"Please stop." You whisper, as his lips moves down to your neck.

He chuckles as your efforts to resist him come to waste. His lips move down to your neck kissing the skin beneath tenderly and begins to passionately caress and suck on your neck. His mouth is hot, and his lips are hungry. He can see that you feel him taking control over you as your body responds to the pleasures, he’s giving to you now.

You gasp at the sensation holding onto his shirt tightly as his lips continue to work on your neck. Your gasps of pleasure become more forceful and louder as he continues his explorations of your soft, sensitive skin. You feel his kisses grow more intense and passionate as they trail down the length of your neck. His hot and hungry mouth travels along the back of your neck, taking in every inch of your delicious flesh. As he keeps kissing you, he caresses your body, his hands traveling down your curves and pressing tightly against you.

“Please Lord...” You whisper.

The sound of your pleading only fuels his lust. He wants you to beg for more. He wants your body to surrender to him and give in to his desires. His kisses get harsher, slowly making their way down toward your chest.

“Please. I can't do this. This is wrong.” You try your best to resist him. Your protests are only making him want you more. He hears you begging and pleading, and wants to make you beg for him like a little puppet. Your resistance is futile and hopeless. You cannot keep up with his passionate advances.

"It's only wrong if you want it to be wrong. If you stop fighting me and give into me, this can all feel so right." He proposes as he tries to persuade you to give into your own temptation.

"Stop please." You beg, your nose touching his as his dark eyes look at you intensely.

His eyes pierce into yours, with a gaze is full of desire. “I want you to know that you're mine and that no matter how much you resist me, you're not getting away from me. Your pleas are only making me want you more. Do you not understand, my dear? Your cries of protest are powerless here. This isn't a matter of right and wrong. This is about what you want and need. Let me give you that. Just let go of yourself and surrender to what you really crave."

You shake your head, trying to move away from him. He only tightens his grip on your wrists in return. He once again leans in and kiss you passionately on the lips while caressing your body. Your protests are futile as you feel his overwhelming presence on you. His control over you is absolute. He kisses you passionately for another long moment, before finally breaking away. He looks at you straight in your eyes, with an intense look. "You're mine."

Something inside you finally snaps and before you can process your actions, you slap him across the face.

His head snaps to the side when you slap him. His eyes widen in shock as the force of your hand leaves a red mark on his cheek. He lets go of your wrists briefly, allowing you to pull away from him. His eyes narrow in anger when he glances at you, the heat in his eyes still radiating with passion and desire.

Your body shakes from fear, afraid for your life as your hands tremble in shock from what you had done. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to..." You say, a tear falling from your eyes as you look down.

He watches you break down and apologize and feels torned between wanting to punish you and the want to kiss you and possess you. He absolutely can't let you get away from him now, and he now feels compelled to pull you back into his grip even tighter.

"Silence." He commands strictly. He doesn’t trust that you're not going to run now, so he pulls you by the wrists again and drags you to face him. "Look into my eyes."

You shriek as you close your eyes from fear before starting to sob. "Please don't kill me!"

"Death is surprisingly the last thing I have in mind. I want you to look into my eyes." He repeats his command in a louder tone while holding onto your wrists, not letting you turn away or run. He’s furious, but also tempted to kiss you, and seeing you distraught is making him feel conflicted.

You open your eyes slowly staring into his as you try to control your sobs. He looks you in the eyes, his gaze burning holes into you. He can feel you shivering and crying because of your fear, and his anger gets replaced with temptation. He feels your body tremble, making him grin with pleasure. He has you right where he wanted. You feel the heat of his breath against your neck as his lips come closer.

“Lord Voldemort, please don't do this. I'll do anything else, I can be a maid, but please don't do this to me. I don't want to be used like this.”

He smirks at your protests. “If you would just surrender to me fully, I'd gladly give you the sweet satisfaction of my embrace. But you keep resisting me. I just want to touch you and have you. Your defiance is irritating me, but I have decided to give you one last chance to surrender to me.” He waits for you to beg again, as he keeps his face close to yours. His lips merely inches away.

"Please..." You whisper one last time, knowing it's no use. He always gets what he wants whether it's the destruction of the worlds or you.

He hear the defeat in your voice, making him much obliged and pleased. You gave in. Your resistance is gone. He feels the victory rushing through him. The look of his face changes. He closes the distance completely between you, and brings his mouth to yours into a harsh kiss.

You slowly respond to his kiss by moving your lips gently against his. Your hand moving up to caress his cheek.

His body dominates over yours, wanting to possess and claim you fully. Your hand on his cheek feels good to him, and your lips moving against his drives him wild with a fiery passion. He grabs around your waist tighter and moves his mouth down along your neck, kissing a path down to your collarbone as you feel his other hand run its fingers along your body.

Your sounds of pleasure are like music to his ears. It felt so good but wrong at the same time. How can you be acting like a lover to one of the most despicable man of all time?

Your conflicting feelings only add to the excitement that he felt. He feels your warm body pressed against his, and his lips start moving back to yours, where they press against yours with desire as he moves closer to you. His tongue starts to explore your lips, and your bodies are grinding together, a sensual friction filling the space between them.

"I'm yours." You whisper against his lips.

The words hit him hard. Your declaration of ownership sends his fire of desire even higher. He pulls away from you momentarily and looks in your eyes as he takes in every inch of your body. He decides to take you in completely. He doesn’t want you to run away. He wants you to be his for as long as he requires.

Like a doll, you submit to everything that he likes and you hardly flinch as he takes off the layer of fabric on your body. Every piece falling down to the ground.

He examines your soft flesh from every inch, devouring you with as eyes as he memorizes every detail, taking his time to admire your exquisite curves. This is exactly how he wants you, to belong to him utterly in the most intimate way possible. HIs hands start tracing patterns on your skin, slowly and methodically. Yours and his sighs of pleasure fills the room as he finally claims you as his.

Your body moves in sync with his, and your sighs of pleasure are music to his ears. Your bodies collide together, moving together in an intimate and passionate harmony. His body fueled and consumed with a raging desire as it blends tightly with yours, filling you with a feeling of pure ecstasy.

When it's all over, the high of pleasure finally coming down, and your body lies next to his. Your heart drops with the deadly feeling of guilt and disgust within yourself. You were just as despicable as him if not more.

He lays next to you, taking in what a sight you are after this passionate session. Your body is glistening with perspiration, and your breath is heavy just like his. He looks at you with want as he continues to caress your body with his fingers, his touch uncharacteristically light and soft as he traces across the contour of your feminine curves. He wanted to make this pleasurable feeling last for you for as long as possible before the crushing guilt comes setting in.

You turn around with your back facing him as tear drops fall from your eyes knowing now that there is no more escaping him.

He smiles since he noticed the silent tears fall down your cheeks. Your pain only fills him with satisfaction. He knows that you're experiencing conflicting emotions right now, but won’t allow you to escape that easily. He sits up and moves his body around you to where you can lay on his chest. He massages your hair gently as he moves one of him arms around you to momentarily comfort you. But secretly, he just wanted to hold you.

You let him hold and comfort you, but you knew that now you were just a servant to the Dark Lord. You no longer owned any wills or desires of your own. You now belonged to him.

He’s delighted as he holds your body tightly against his, feeling your body moulding to his. Your submission was another achievement of his and he’s content with this moment. Your tear-soaked face is so beautiful to him, like an artistic painting of despair and submission.

[END]

***Thank you for reading! P.S. - definitely recommend listening to Christian Coulson voicing some audiobooks bc his voice is beautiful! <3 ***

#tom riddle x reader #lord voldemort #dark lord #harry potter #possessive #dark tom #tom marvolo riddle #tom hughes #christian coulson

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mediocre-daydreams · 2 years

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𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐲, 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐲, 𝐨𝐨𝐡-𝐥𝐚-𝐥𝐚

james potter x Seer!reader

summary: james keeps showing up in your readings, so the logical conclusion is you must be horrible at divination. (inspired by "kissy kissy" - isaac dunbar)

w/c: 6.8k

notes: she/her, reader in denial and james is Boy™ about expressing his feelings, hypothetical violence, reader self-friendzoning, first fic in like 3 months + not proofread so go easy on me pls and ily

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

nice to meet ya, i'm pleased 'cause i've seen you around in my astral projections i'm a mess, i'm obsessed, overdressed for you dear, this is my, my confession

there was a reason you weren’t a ravenclaw, and as you sat in front of this damned crystal ball, it was becoming increasingly evident why.

“i have Seen limitless potential amongst this group…” sybill trelawney crooned, waving her hand around in exaggerated loops. “now, relax those conscious minds and tap into your Inner Eyes to see what truly lives beyond this surface reality…”

you weren’t really sure how to access your Inner Eye. you let your eyes—your normal ones—flicker sideways to james, who seemed just as perturbed.

james looked out of place in the bright divination classroom. he hadn’t bothered untangling his bedhead and his glasses were smudged in the corners, which always seemed to bother you more than it did him. he was discreetly rebuttoning his crooked shirt and sneaking glances over his shoulder to avoid trelawney’s “all-knowing eye.”

your best friend was undeniably pretty, this you knew. even with his eyebrows furrowed and the skin on his lips beginning to peel from the harsh november air, you could practically feel the admiring gazes and swooning stares from around the room directed at james’ back—and you, by association—instead of the crystal balls the class was meant to be studying.

“alright, ‘m sorry about that, sweetheart!” james’ head popped up and he smiled at you with too much energy for so early in the morning. “ready to gaze?”

you scoffed. “please, i’ve already Seen your entire life in the time it took you to button your shirt.” you squinted at the hazy glass as you pretended to glean a message from the future.

“well, what do you see?” james shuffled closer like he’d only be able to see the same imaginary image if his thigh was touching yours.

“how interesting…” you tsked, extending a cautious hand to touch the glass. “it looks like you’re lying on the ground-”

“well, i’ve always loved naps-”

“-but you’re screaming! oh wow, you’re thrashing around too. you’re being eaten! by a big… black… dog!”

sirius’ head whipped around. he winked when he caught your eye. “it looks like we’ve got ourselves a Seer!” he announced. “c’mon, See something for us!”

james laughed, elbowing you encouragingly as you rolled your eyes. divination was no one’s favorite subject (except maybe lisa turpin’s, who was either a very gifted Seer or a very convincing fraud) and you often found yourself passing time in class by conjuring ridiculous predictions with the marauders.

you turned to your crystal ball and tried to muster up a shred of seriousness, but all you could hear was lisa turpin muttering something in the back of the classroom. godric, she had such an annoying voice. it wasn’t like you cared about divination or anything, but lisa turpin was such a stuck-up teacher’s pet and trelawney always fell for it; you were pretty sure she was lying anyway, and—

trelawney’s eyes appeared in the reflection of your crystal ball and you jerked back with a shriek, frightened by the buglike quality of her glasses further warped by the ball’s distortion. two strong hands wrapped around your biceps and anchored you in place.

“sybill! i’m so sorry, you really- i-” you huffed, pressing a hand to your racing heart. “i got caught up in my… reading.”

“not to worry, dear,” trelawney mused, patting your shoulder. she didn’t so much as look down at you as she spoke. “it appears i was right… we do have a Seer among us… now, why don’t you take a look into your ball? yes, do bless us with your premonition…”

you shook the hands off your biceps—james’ hands—and tried to smile at trelawney. it probably looked more like a grimace.

lisa turpin’s scathing look of jealousy did not calm your on-the-spot nerves. you widened your eyes at james. for a second you saw a resemblance between his large, circular frames to trelawney’s curved, oversized lenses.

james raised his eyebrows in silent communication. “just make something up.”

“what do i say?” you panicked and the corners of your lips twitched up and down.

“uh, predict something really horrible,” james mouthed. “like… tell her that pads kills me, but make it gorier and more devastating this time. also, do i look good with scars? i’ve heard girls love it when i guy is half dead and covered in blood.”

you felt a smile tugging at your mouth and you shook off the flutter of butterfly wings that james’ cheeky suggestion lit in your stomach. leaning closer to the crystal ball, you pretended to See, waving your hands around as mysteriously as you could for dramatic effect.

“i see something!” you declared, much to trelawney’s delight. you hummed, tilting your head as you pretended to look more intently. “it looks like…”

to your surprise, the hazy center of the crystal ball began shifting, almost like a white cloud of finely ground floo dust was being blown and scattered into the air. two figures, almost familiar, emerged from the dust and began approaching each other from either sides of the ball with smooth, confident strides. you frowned. of course you’d “seen” things in divination before, like a three-legged cat in your tea leaves or a tic-tac-toe board in the creases of someone’s palm, but nothing with such clarity. it was much more frightening having your first experience under the scrutinizing gaze of trelawney and lisa turpin.

the two figures began fading away and you were glad that the anomalous Sight had finally left you alone. you cleared your throat, prepared to make up some tragedy that would appeal trelawney—

two hands, one small and one large, had taken focus in the center of the crystal ball. you looked behind you. there were no intertwined hands culpable of casting a reflection. tendrils of graceful smoke morphed into fingers that interlocked until the hands folded in on themselves had suddenly become lips… lips that were brushing against each other, gently at first, before diving forward with heat and vigor. you weren’t sure whose steamy makeout session you were predicting, but it was an awful time to be thinking about these sorts of things. you couldn’t stop the tingling on your own lips and a thunderous roar in your own ears as you stared, transfixed, at the scene before you…

“-y’ alright? still there? …hey, sweetheart?” james’ hushed voice roused you from your gazing. you jolted into the present and felt those steadying hands on your biceps once more; instead of shaking him off this time, you let yourself cross your arms over your chest and cover his hands with yours. you pressed your lips into a flat smile at james and then directed it toward trelawney, who was still waiting eagerly for a report.

“i saw, uh,” you stammered, unwilling to divulge the true nature of your Sight. “i saw a dying man. yeah, it was really, really sad. he was being torn apart by a rabid dog—a big, ugly one—and there was blood everywhere!” you snuck a glance at james, who winked at you and squeezed your muscles encouragingly. “oh, it was terrible. i’m feeling really worn out and- and lightheaded after Seeing that. i think i should lay down… don’t want to overdo it…”

professor trelawney nodded, solemn but understanding. “wonderful job, dear. how honored i am to have another Seer this year… i look forward to seeing where you go… now, let’s get back to gazing, class!” trelawney lingered for a moment, staring down at you fondly, before making her way to sirius and peter’s table with a disapproving frown already loaded and prepared.

“ you’ve got the Sight, now, have you?” james teased, his frustratingly attractive grin growing with each fervent shake of your head.

“merlin, not this again-”

“what does my future hold, O great and omniscient Seer?” james pressed the palms of his hands together in a begger’s pose and leaned into your side, resting his head on your shoulder. his unruly curls tickled the bare skin at the base of your neck. the poor boy must not have slept well last night.

“you’re not funny, potter,” you grumbled. you said this each time he poked fun at trelawney’s fondness toward you and each time he ignored it.

“yes, i am.” james cozied his head further into your shoulder. you shivered involuntarily. “i know you think i’m funny. everyone thinks i’m funny. even evans thinks i’m funny.”

of course, james had to go and mention lily evans.

there was nothing wrong with lily evans. in fact, there was nothing about lily evans that could be described as less than lovely. you could see why james was so taken with her—she was clever and hardworking and kind. she was beautiful, too.

you felt your smile falter and you plastered on a new one, albeit very unconvincingly. “lily!” you exclaimed with false excitement. “oh yeah, she’s wonderful. i wonder what she’s Seeing?”

sitting not far from you, lily and marlene seemed undisturbed by your macabre prediction and james’ foolery. you watched as lily lightly tapped the surface of the crystal ball with a well-manicured finger. marlene giggled at whatever it was they Saw; she leaned over and scribbled something on lily’s divination journal.

lily caught your eye and blushed. you waved awkwardly, feeling heat creep up your neck from being caught staring. you felt james’ chest vibrate as he chuckled gently behind you. james shot up and removed his head from your shoulder when he noticed lily’s attention directed toward the two of you. he fixed his posture, shifting himself until his thigh was no longer touching yours. james nodded in acknowledgement to the two girls and you watched as lily’s smile grew.

it was cruel, you thought. it was cruel of james to make you feel this way, but mostly, it was cruel that you got upset every time the two of them seemed happy. they were two of the best people you knew—who wished discontent upon their friends? maybe that was what distinguished lily from you… lily wouldn’t be resentful if she were in your shoes.

“what’s goin’ on?” james muttered. where his head had once rested was now his warm, wandering hand, rubbing and massaging your shoulders. “you’re tense all of a sudden.” james’ other hand cupped your cheek and guided your head around to face him. his lower lip jutted (and you tried to ignore that) as his eyes searched yours. “is something wrong? did you actually see something just then?”

you swallowed hard and tried not to choke on your own saliva. yes, there was something deeply wrong, you wanted to say. it was wrong of you to feel this way toward your best friend, especially when he was feeling this way—feeling love—for someone else.

you cleared your throat. “all good, james.” you pushed his hands off you and grabbed your divination journal, holding it between your and james’ body like a shield.

“moony, can i copy your divination homework?” james slumped onto one of the common room couches; coincidentally, the same one you were already occupying. his head landed heavy in your lap. james sighed contentedly as he tucked his hands behind his mass of hair, fingers brushing against your thighs.

“no,” remus deadpanned, rolling his eyes at james. no, not just james… james on your lap. james and you, you and james, james was on top of you… remus needed to-

“cut it out!” you yelped, grabbing two fistfulls of james’ hair in shock. “you’re tickling me!”

james’ fingers twitched from beneath his head, sending another wave of shivers through your body that you were pretty sure james could feel. “i’m not tickling you,” james frowned.

“yes, you are!” you tugged at james’ wrists, exhaling in relief as soon as his hands were no longer touching your legs. “you’re being touchy today,” you noted. “what’s up with that?”

“am i not allowed to touch my favorite girl?” james pouted, batting his eyelashes innocently.

“no, because you’re making me…”

“shy?” james suggested.

“uncomfortable?” remus countered.

“oh, merlin!” james practically lept out of his skin. “i’m so sorry! i wasn’t making you uncomfortable, was i?”

you melted at the worry in his voice. “nah,” you admonished, wrinkling your nose, “you’re fine. come back here.” in all honesty, you were more than fine with james’ head on your lap. there was nothing sexual about it; physical affection had always been a facet of your and james’ relationship. you rather liked it, actually. if you could, you’d like to be able to hold james forever. but he could never know that.

“wait,” james said suddenly, falling into your side and grabbing your arm, which he seemed to be doing a lot these days. “have you done the divination homework? can i copy yours, please?”

“why, did remus already say no?”

james had the decency to look guilty.

“well, normally i’d let you, but the homework is supposed to be analyzing palmistry data from last class. did you- did you not do that?”

james frowned and looked down at his hand. “what does trelawney even want me to write; ‘james potter has ugly quidditch callouses?’”

“you have to analyze someone else’s palm, idiot,” marlene chimed in from across the common room. “just make something up if you have to. that’s what i did with lily.”

james looked down at his hand thoughtfully and then at yours. “you’ll be my palmistry partner, right, sweetheart?”

“don’t you ‘sweetheart’ me, potter, i’m not helping you with divination ag-”

“thank you!” james cried, throwing his arms around you and burying his head in your chest, forgetting all about his previous inhibitions. you fumbled backward on the couch until your back was pressed flat against the cushions, james on top of you and hanging onto your torso.

you could feel james’ heart pounding through the fabric of his shirt. his body was warm all over. poor james. he must’ve been really nervous about his divination homework.

“you’re the best friend ever,” james said, his voice muffled as he remained face-down, pressed against your side with no intention of moving.

marlene raised her eyebrows in disbelief. “‘best friend,’ my ass,” she mouthed to sirius.

sirius waved his hand dismissively. “his words, not mine.”

you chastised james as best as you could with your respiratory abilities compromised. he clambered off you and extended a gentlemanly hand he used to tug you upright.

instead of letting your hand go, he turned it over and splayed your fingers until your palm was exposed, facing upright and nestled in his larger one.

“you have nice hands,” james commented absentmindedly. “they’re a good size.”

“for what?” you stiffened as james began rubbing slow circles into the center of your palm, suddenly hyper-aware of how intimate your touches had become.

“for holding,” james said. he was silent for a moment as he traced your life line. you didn’t speak. you didn’t dare breathe. james’ thumb was tracing the creases in your palm because he was completing an overdue assignment, not because he was admiring the way your skin looked against his. his touch was soft because he was your friend, not because he was caressing you like a lover, you had to remind yourself.

“okay,” you responded stupidly.

“yeah, okay.” james cleared his throat. “for holding and- and for palmistry, of course. you’re still gonna be my palmistry girl, right?”

he ran his hands through his hair sheepishly, fighting a couple knots at the back of his head. james was whispering to himself, dragging the nail of his pinkie finger along the lines on your palm, like a cartographer mapping out a foreign land he was afraid to one day forget. there was a part of you that ached to tilt his chin up so he could memorize the planes of your face instead—and so you might do the same—but the part of you that treasured your friendship with james won. it always did.

“pass my bag, please?” james murmured, tapping your knee with his free hand. with a flick of your wrist, you summoned his divination journal.

“wandless magic,” marlene laughed in astonishment. “remind me why you aren’t a ravenclaw?”

you huffed. “well, i’m no good at riddles and i-”

“-oh, you’re plenty smart!” lily interrupted. you felt your heart sputter. “i mean it; you’re the only person who’s properly predicted anything in divination.”

lily sounded so earnest that you felt a stab of guilt pass through your chest. you weren’t actually good at divination—all you’ve ever seen was gibberish—and right now you were distracting james from spending time with the girl he’d been pining after for years who had just began to tolerate him.

“-and what are you doing, james?” lily asked, cutting through your spiraling thoughts.

a few beats of motionlessness from james prompted you to scratch his head to catch his attention. james seemed to startle momentarily before glancing up at you and lily shyly, cheeks slightly flushed and tongue swiping over his teeth.

“yeah, hi lily!” james blurted, blinking a few times to come to his senses. “i’m- we’re just doing divination stuff… palmistry and whatnot.”

james was all of a sudden much less confident and you felt a second knife of guilt cut through your conscience. you wanted to be the one flustering him. but that wasn’t a very kind thing to wish upon someone, was it? the guilt ate at you again—oh, how you wanted to be selfish and have your best friend all to yourself; but you couldn’t, not without tearing him and lily apart and not without ruining the most important relationship in your life, platonic may it be.

“no offense, but i’ve never seen you so dedicated to homework. and divination, of all things! did trelawney say something to you, or what?” lily shifted her weight to one leg and quirked her head, examining james.

“i thought you’d be glad to see me doing my work, evans,” james said, “you’re always nagging me about it.”

lily rolled her eyes, grinning. “you act like i enjoy nagging you. if nobody reminded you, i’m fairly sure you would’ve failed out of being quidditch captain. though, it looks like it’s not my responsibility anymore.” lily jutted her head toward you.

“yep! that’s me,” you smiled fakely, feeling second to lily once again. “so, what does my palm say?”

james turned back toward you. “right, right! so, you have the mount of jupiter, which means you have a connection to…” james peered over his shoulder at his divination textbook. “you’ve got a connectioin to the spiritual realm and divine aptitudes.” james looked pleased with himself. “hey, i figure that’s a pretty accurate reading! you’re good at divination, after all.

“hm… i think your head line is saying you let your doubts get in the way of seeing what’s actually in front of you. maybe that you fixate on what you think you know, and that prevents you from learning and growth? and…

“ooh-la-la! you’ve got a deep heart line.” james waggled his eyebrows at you. “who’s the special someone?”

you clicked your tongue. “and you were on such a roll too. nope, there’s nobody for me.”

james seemed much too cheerful at your pitiful state of loveless solitude.

“merlin, will you at least pretend to feel bad for me?” you said in acknowledgement of james’ eager expression. you loved james, but sometimes his enthusiasm shone at the wrong moments.

“no, that’s not what i-” james started. “okay, but look. your heart line really is deep. i would know; mine is too.”

“but james, you’re a hopeless romantic. everyone adores you. i’m not exactly the mushy gushy type.”

james scoffed. “oh please, plenty of people like you! what about that twat from hufflepuff- what was his name? joshua matthews?”

you looked at james, unimpressed.

“okay, i know i didn’t like him at the time… but who the hell has two first names instead of a normal surname? hey, there was also anthony abbott in third year and winston clearwater last year.”

“right, well that’s what you think. how come none of them ever asked me out, huh?” you rebutted. you weren’t that self-deprecating. you knew you were pretty and you knew that joshua matthews for sure liked you, but there was no explanation as to why, in your five years at hogwarts, nobody had ever asked you out.

“well, maybe they-” james seemed to lose momentum. “maybe they were just… intimidated?”

“wait, am i scary?” you stressed.

“no! they’re just cowards. all of ‘em. anyone who can’t tell you how they really feel… well, there’s a reason none of them were in gryffindor,” james laughed awkwardly. “yeah, that’s pretty cowardly of them. that’s why you deserve way better, sweetheart.”

“right, james.” you drawled in a way james knew you didn’t believe him. “it’s whatever. i didn’t really care for them too much anyway.”

do you see me or hear me, just give me a sign i just want your attention Teenage Dream on repeat as i stare into space write your name in my journal (i should burn it, right?)

you were going to toss yourself out the girl’s dormitory window. you were pretty high up; you figured the tower was high enough to at least knock you out long enough for you to forget this very, very bad dream.

well, the dream was only bad because it was so good.

in your dream, you had been in the quidditch stands with paint on your cheeks and a hoarse voice from screaming; your mittens were in your pockets so that you could clap louder. maybe if you clapped loud enough, your boyfriend, james potter, would hear you over the deafening crowd. you had tucked your nose into the scarf around your neck, hiding the evidence of last night’s activities, and breathed in james’ cologne.

you could not handle this today.

“what’s going on up there?” lily was perched on the wooden foot of her bed, brushing her long, ginger locks with all the grace of a fairytale princess. “in your head, i mean.”

you realized you’d been sitting upright on your bed and staring into space for probably a few minutes now, stuck in your daydream continuation of last night’s horrendous, disgusting, absolutely revolting fantasy.

“nothing,” you brushed off. “i’m just dreading divination. i bet trelawney’s gonna make me do a reading in front of the class or something.”

“well, at least it won’t be spontaneous,” marlene said. “we’re doing our dream journals today. you can just read whatever you wrote. bam, easy.”

oh yeah, you definitely could not handle this today.

like the cherry on top of a curdled ice cream sundae, you arrived to divination two minutes late. normally, that wouldn’t have been a big deal. (plus, you were trelawney’s new favorite and she was bound to let you off easy.) well, it was a big deal today. everybody else had found their seats, and as always, james had saved the one next to him for you. it wasn’t as if you could simply take another seat, not when he was looking at you with those eyes.

“mornin’ jamie,” you whispered, stealing a glance at the blushing boy as you dug through your satchel for your dream journal. “d’you wake up late too? looks like you’ve just run across the castle.”

james clapped his hands to his cheeks. “what, am i red?”

“a little,” you admitted, pinching one of his cheeks gently. “don’t worry about it. you’re cute.”

james went even darker. the poor boy must’ve had a rough morning too. perhaps he’d eaten the jalepeño omlettes at breakfast today instead of his usual spinach ones.

“what’d i miss?” you absentmindedly recorded the dream you’d had in your journal as trelawney lectured on about interpretation and her latest prediction.

james shrugged. “not much. lisa turpin tried sitting next to me, but don’t worry, i fended her off. i’m pretty sure she wants to peel off and wear your skin, if i’m to be honest. she’s been vying for trelawney’s attention all year.”

“james,” you teased, “i’m pretty sure it’s because she has a crush on you.”

“a crush? on little old me?” james pressed his hand to his heart and looked at you pointedly. “there’s no way. you know my heart will only ever belong to one.”

that was true. james, unlike sirius, wasn’t the type to flirt shamelessly or sleep around, though he could if he wanted. james was one of those kids who grew up on happily-ever-afters instead of beetle the bard. even today, he was a vehement defender of true love and soulmates and fate, and you weren’t sure if that was admirable or naive.

“don’t underestimate yourself, pretty boy. every girl in our class—no, probably in the whole school—has liked you at some point.”

james went quiet and for a moment you thought trelawney was behind you. (she was not.)

“every girl?” james swallowed thickly, his adam’s apple bobbing. perhaps he needed a drink of water, you thought. “uh, including you?”

your teasing smile faded. “i mean, i-”

“-now, let’s get started on our interpretations, shall we?” trelawney interrupted loudly, and it seemed your luck was turning up for the first time this morning. “shall we first try an example? how about… you, my darling?” to your horror, trelawney waved her fabric-draped arm toward you, bangles clinking together and drawing the entire classroom’s attention toward your mortified expression. unlucky again; it seemed you’d spoken too soon.

you did a quick scan of the room and then a quick scan of what you’d written in your journal. shit. fuck. shit. there was no way you could read this out loud, especially not while sitting next to james.

fuck! shit! fuck! you were sitting next to james, who could definitely see the writing on the page. you slammed your journal shut and looked up at trelawney, frenzied. “um, could somebody else read their journal, please?” you managed to croak out.

trelawney looked slightly disappointed, but obliged. “miss mckinnon, why don’t we hear from you?”

you refused to look at james. your eyes were glued to your lap as you listened to marlene clear her throat. “well, the gist of it was that gryffindor won the quidditch cup by around 200 points, which was sick, but i analyzed something else. it was really interesting, actually. y’know, i couldn’t tell i was dreaming until i woke up because it was all so realistic-”

“please stay focused,” trelawney said, the corner of her mouth twitching.

“right! sorry, professor. anyway, james was actually in my dream—yeah, hey james—” marlene said, waving in your direction, “and i’m gonna be honest, he wasn’t looking too great. super muddy and sweaty and stuff; he’s always kinda gross after games… regardless, you didn’t seem to mind.”

marlene wasn’t even trying to be subtle. she pointed a finger at you and waved it in a small circle. “yeah, the two of you had no complaints when you started eating each other’s faces off. it was such a nightmare, professor. i was having such a good time celebrating our win and then, of course, it just had to be ruined by bloody james potter and-”

trelawney cut off marlene, red-faced and unprepared. “good job, miss mckinnon; thank you for your contribution. why don’t we speak after class?”

there was a low wave of “oooh”s and hushed gossip, but trelawney shut that down as well. “no, miss mckinnon, you’re not in trouble. i’m simply curious; you seem to excel at dream work. many students-” trelawney coughed pointedly, “overlook its usefulness… dreams are a direct gateway to the subconscious, and oftentimes our Inner Minds are wiser and more perceptive than we think. you’ve done a good job, miss mckinnon; quite accurate. you have a wonderful mind and impressive clarity. this will take you far.”

marlene was smug as she settled into her cushion and elbowed lily. lily bit her bottom lip as she tried to conceal a laugh. after swallowing their amusement, the two girls looked in the direction of you and james. well, more so james. you weren’t sure if either lily or marlene could actually see you. you had shrunk into yourself in your embarrassment and you prayed you were no longer visible to the curious class.

it didn’t matter though, not really, because you were still visible to the one person whose opinion mattered most. you were seated, transfixed and frozen, right next to james, who seemed equally as taken aback. your heart was thudding so violently you thought it might grow wings, expel itself from your throat, and land in a bloody, drooly puddle on your lap. that might actually be less embarrassing than this, whatever this was.

and you couldn’t help but furrow your eyebrows when you noticed lily’s eyes still glued on james. her straight brows were raised so high they formed creases on her forehead and you felt a second wave of shame overtake you. lily must’ve been heartbroken. not only had marlene told the entire class about her dream, but she’d done so while sitting next to lily, who’d been clearly pining after james for months now. you knew marlene and lily were friends. what was that all about?

james pushed his hair back from his face and adjusted his glasses. he seemed equally as flustered as you, if not more. james’ eyes flickered between lily and marlene and ever so often his nervous hands would come back up to his face and fiddle with something—a stray curl, an itch on the back of his neck, or the tip of his pinkened nose.

“i need to use the loo!” you jumped to your feet, declaring your bladder’s needs much louder than necessary. trelawney shooed you with a dismissive hand and you scrambled past sirius and remus’ table, pretending not to notice their trailing stares on your back.

you didn’t actually need to use the loo. clarification: you didn’t have to pee. you entered a stall anyway. waves of nausea had been coming and going ever since james had caught sight of what was written inside your journal, and it was better to be safe than sorry, right? the only thing that could make today worse was if you hurled all over your uniform.

your hands were trembling as you rubbed your eyes and took a shaky breath. how were you supposed to recover from this? at this point, it wasn’t just your relationship with james on the line, but lily’s feelings too. and, if the situation escalated, you could risk losing sirius, remus, and peter to the awkwardness between you and james. you loved marlene, you truly did, but damn if you didn’t want to jinx her off her broom during the next quidditch game.

your misery must’ve made the time pass faster, because soon after your classroom escape, you heard the bustling of students pushing their way through the corridors to their next classes. you kept your head down as a couple girls streamed into the bathroom, chatting freely and checking their reflections, and hoped not to be spoken to.

“hey, you’re that girl from divination, right?” some hufflepuff caught your elbow before you made it to the door. “the one mckinnon had a dream about?”

“uh, yep. that’s me.” you pursed your lips and tried to look like you weren’t on the verge of murdering marlene.

“aw, i knew it! i just have to say, you and james are like, the cutest ever. i’m kind of jealous. victoria over there-” the hufflepuff tilted her head toward a ravenclaw girl leaving over a sink and re-applying her lipstick, “-was totally freaking out when i told her about it. she’s had a crush on sirius for like, ever. do you think you could introduce her?”

you shut your mouth as soon as you realized you were gawking. “wait, sorry, i’m a little lost. you want me to introduce you to sirius?”

“yeah, ‘cause sirius is more likely to listen to his mate’s girlfriend, right?” the hufflepuff said.

“wait, james and i aren’t together—no, marlene just had a really weird dream. we’re friends. been friends forever. only friends. plus, james is all over lily evans, so…”

“lily evans?” victoria hummed as she smudged her lipstick with her finger. “i thought lily didn’t like james. she’s always looking at him like she’s judging him.”

“‘cause she’s probably checking him out,” you countered.

“there’s no way,” the hufflepuff argued. “she’s been rejecting him since second year. she’s like, never shown any interest in him at all.”

“i mean, i dunno. but i should probably go to my next class.” you patted your side to check for your satchel. it wasn’t there. you must’ve left it in the classroom. “and i’ve gotta go get my bag—sorry, but it was nice talking to you!”

you heard the girls giggling as you rushed out of the bathroom.

the crowd of students had thinned out from when the bell first rang; you took the stairs to the divination tower two at a time. as you hoisted yourself up through the trapdoor, you remembered what trelawney had said just before you ran out.

“…our Inner Minds are wiser and more perceptive than we think. you’ve done a good job, miss mckinnon; quite accurate.”

what did she mean by that? the dream wasn’t accurate by any means—you’d never kissed james before (though you would not at all be opposed to it). everyone knew trelawney was a bit off her rocker, and you’d never taken divination seriously, but there was something undeniably odd about this situation. what were the chances you’d have the exact same dream as marlene?

“hey…” the voice behind you send a dreadful creep of goosebumps down your arms. “you missed the rest of class.”

you turned around slowly, like a character who was about to die in a low-budget horror movie. “james?”

“yeah?” james stood in front of you, holding the strap of your bag with an outstretched arm and looking unusually shy.

“um, yeah. i was in the bathroom.” you sighed, mustering the last of your sense of normalcy. “so, what’d i miss?”

“we finished our dream analysis and trelawney assigned us an essay on dream symbolism; two pages. you… uh, you left your journal out so i packed it for you. i hope that’s okay.”

“wow! that’s so- thanks, james. that’s so kind of you. thanks.” you stammered, reaching out to take your bag from his offering hand. james’ knuckles were pale, and when he released his grip, there were faint indents from how tightly his fist had held the strap.

“you’re welcome,” james said dully. “i guess we should get going, right? to class, and all.”

“yep. yeah, to class.”

there was a heavy silence between the two of you, during which neither of you moved. james’ eyes were boring into yours and rather than making you uncomfortable, it felt like he was seeing right through your thinly stretched facade of faux-platonic feelings.

“i’m so sorry, i-saw-the-inside-of-your-journal-but-i-swear-it-was-an-accident,” james blurted, eyes wide and apologetic. it seemed like he hadn’t meant to speak, and he clapped his hand over his mouth. even as you felt yourself actively disintegrating from humiliation, you still found yourself thinking how endearing james looked when he chewed his lower lip and let his eyes wander across the classroom; anywhere but your face.

“oh,” you muttered, “i’m sorry about that too.”

“what?” james’ head snapped back until he was facing you once more. he stepped forward and you forced yourself to stay where you were. james looked frantic. he blinked twice in confusion. “what are you talking about? why are you apologizing? you have nothing to apologize for,” he reassured you. his words came out like a half-formed train of thought, rushed and blurring into each other.

“it’s so invasive and inappropriate; i swear, i didn’t mean to have that- that sort of- i didn’t mean to dream about you! i don’t know what happened, it must’ve been some subconscious thought or- or something,” you blabbed, waving your hands in front of you as you tried to explain yourself. “i hope i haven’t made you uncomfortable; i don’t want this to ruin our friendship or anything, and i completely understand if you want to sit with someone else in divination or something-”

“wait, please don’t apologize!” james rushed forward in a surge of desperation-fuelled bravery. “i don’t want you to apologize.”

“you don’t want me to apologize?” you repeated dumbly. “but-”

james placed his hands on both your shoulders and shook you gently. “no, i don’t want you to apologize! i’m- i- how do i say this…” james closed his eyes and took a deep breath. you watched his eyelashes flutter with the movement of his eyelids. “i’ve had so many dreams about you, just like that one. and sweetheart, i’d love nothing more than for those to be real. i like you. i like you so much.”

you squinted at him, dumbfounded. it must’ve looked like you were judging him, because james backtracked immediately.

“i mean, only if you want it to be real- i’m sorry if that’s creepy or gross or perverted; i swear, it was all family-friendly. no funny business. i just really like you, sweetheart, and i can’t stop thinking about you, and i mean, for you it might’ve been some subconscious thought but you’re in my mind all the time,” james said. he pulled his hands from your shoulders and held them in the air, like he’d been caught stealing. “maybe i’ve misinterpreted this; maybe i-”

“what about lily?” you coughed out.

“what d’you mean, ‘what about lily?’”

“lily likes you, james. i thought you liked her too.”

“what? lily does not like me.”

“james,” you sighed exasperatedly, “she totally does-”

“i- lily’s been this close-” james pinched his fingers together, “-to slaughtering me because i’ve been trying to ask you out for nearly a year now and i keep chickening out.”

“wait, a year? you’ve liked me for a whole year?”

“um, yes. and are you gonna say anything? like, do you like me too? i’m kind of freaking out here, sweetheart.”

“jamie, are you insane? i’ve been bloody in love with you since forever; merlin, i like you so much it’s embarrassing,” you scoffed.

“what? why didn’t you say anything?” james exclaimed, mouth dropping open as he leaned backwards to look you up and down incredulously.

“well, how was i supposed to know you felt the same? i didn’t want to mess everything up! it’s not like you said anything either.”

“are you kidding? sirius said i was making it obvious!” james cringed, dipping his head in defeat. he took your hands in his and squeezed them as he chided you. “hell, even marlene and trelawney saw it before you!”

“in my defense, am i really supposed to believe what trelawney does?” you huffed, crossing your arms in frustration. “you always talk about how she’s a fraud! you were totally sending me mixed messages!”

james looked down at you. his glasses were beginning to slip down his nose and you wanted nothing more than to push them back up, but he had you transfixed. he unwraveled one of his hands from yours but his touch never left; his fingers brushed up your forearm and squeezed your shoulder affectionately before cupping your jaw. james’ thumb brushed against your mouth, coaxing apart your pursed lips and soothing your pinched expression.

“what did you see in the crystal ball?” james whispered teasingly, eyes never leaving yours.

you remembered the way your own lips had tingled as you watched the smoky figures kiss and you felt your mouth curve into a self-satisfied smirk, knowing—despite how cliché it sounded—you’d actually predicted the future. pushing yourself to your toes, you threw your arms around james’ neck and pressed your lips against his and it was like you were back in the divination classroom once more and you were feeling the haze of the crystal ball overtake your mind as you drowned in the heat of james’ kiss. there was nothing else in the world except the brush of james’ tongue against your bottom lip, his choked inhale from when you pulled him closer by the front of his shirt, and the victorious bubble in your stomach at having secured yourself an O in divination. take that, lisa turpin.

james laughed breathlessly, eyes flickering between yours as his face shuffled through a million different emotions. “i take it back. trelawney is not a fraud."

kissy kissy ooh-la-la, babe, i want ya so tell me that you want me the same i fantasize about you today and tomorrow so kissy kissy ooh-la-la, forever

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

general taglist: @im-a-slut-for-fluff @bambamwolf87 @yourallihave @cowboibeepbeep @liszblog @springflwer07 @getawayfrommewerewolf @soumya-13 @ilovedilfs32 @valqarh @valvlry @losa12308 @darkenwolfie @bookishlover13 @lonniepoo @fromcabin13 @mystarlightswiftt @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah

marauders taglist: @emmaev @urgrandadsashes @girl-ln-green @vilentia @bibli0thecary @khayhuij @summer-noir @ggfamert @jack1n @siriuslydestiny @fluffybunnyu @thegirlwhohides @woodyrubster @swimmingunknowntimetravel @viridescense @rosaliesrealwife @arisarise @theghostofshadows @derpymidnight

#james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter fluff #james potter mutual pining #james potter friends to lovers #james potter x reader fluff #Spotify

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darklydeliciousdesires · 16 days

Text

Sky Full of Stars - Chapter Two.

Ahhh, fuck it. Why not another chapter to get the ball rolling? You guys are so good to me with your lovely comments, so in turn, you get more story!

Previous chapters - One

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 4,312

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

“Hey Jade, I’ll give you some privacy,” Marv, their driver spoke with his usual wide smile upon seeing her climb onto the bus with a guy he recognised but couldn’t immediately place why. “Need to go find me some food anyway.”

“Alright, Marv. The food truck has just about everything tonight. No more bad burgers!” she chuckled, moving through the narrow gangway. The bus wasn’t what he’d expected it would look like, a small lounge area at the front, two rows of sleeping bunks towards the centre, a tiny kitchen area and even smaller bathroom (complete with an amusing handwritten sign that advised if anyone took a crap, their head got flushed along with it) and finally, another lounge area right at the back.

The seating section surrounded a small table, the space perhaps the least claustrophobic on the bus. It certainly looked a lot larger on the outside than it did within. How she coped being cooped up in it while travelling, he didn’t know.

“Do you want a drink? I’ve got wine somewhere, do you like Merlot?” she asked, beginning to root around in the overhead cupboards. “No, it’s in the kitchenette. Hang on.”

“Yeah, that’d be great, thanks.” Sitting down, he had mere moments to take stock of what an interesting day it had been so far. It had started out not so great, jammed against a barrier with a crush of a permanently apoplectic mosh pit behind him, the early evening bringing with it something much more comfortable and sedate. He was joined again quickly by the woman who only continued to captivate him further with every passing moment, passing him a solo cup half filled with red wine.

“Sorry for the uncouth receptacle. We don’t keep breakables on the bus beyond coffee mugs, save things getting smashed to hell,” she explained, taking a seat. “So, tell me more about you. You’ve fascinated me so far. I want to know what lurks beneath the extremely attractive exterior.”

Yes, she certainly was very naturally charming, Adrien feeling his stomach flutter pleasantly. She hadn’t asked him about his acting, or which industry people he knew, what he’d be working on next, oh no. Him. She wanted to know about him. It made for a refreshing change, although eventually she did inquire into his profession, one she was slowly making waves in herself. Lamentably, although she’d been in quite a high number of projects over the past eight years, he hadn’t actually seen her in anything. Or so he thought.

“I mean, it was only a small, independent movie, but I’m really proud of it, playing an icon like Janis. She was such a huge influence,” she spoke, watching his eyes widen.

“Shit, I have seen you in something. I saw you in that! Sorry, it’s just, you look very different to how you did playing her, obviously.”

“What did you think?” she asked, sipping her wine. “No need to flatter me either. Be honest.”

“Honestly?” He paused a moment, scratching his chin and pulling his cigarettes out, lighting up and knocking the pack across the table to her, Jade sliding the ashtray closer. “I think you did the best with what you had to work with. You played a very convincing Janis Joplin from what I know of her, but the direction of it wasn’t great. They could have done a lot more. From what I remember, you really put your heart into it, green to playing a lead role as you were - and that did show – but your performance what made it.”

His words surprised her. Not because he hadn’t enjoyed the direction of the biopic, but the fact he’d been completely honest with her. “Thank you. See, so many people have been phony about it, blown smoke right up my ass, but what you said was exactly how I felt. I put my all into it, although I ultimately felt like I was only as good as what I was given. They skipped over so much of her life that would have made it even more interesting, only to go for the sensationalist element. Bloody pissed me right off.”

He loved the way her speech was a mishmash of Britishisms and Americanisms, a slight New York lilt coming through on every sixth or so word.

“You’ll learn the further you get into it, be more selective over what you give your time to.” She asked him if he minded giving her a little more advice there, Adrien only happy to, liking very much how completely unpretentious she was.

In her world, she was a big deal, huge, in fact, but in acting she was still a relatively small fish in an extremely large pond. As for Jade, she considered herself extremely lucky, getting to listen to the wisdom a man who since winning an Oscar seven years before had only gone from strength to strength.

“I know it comes with the job, speaking to press, but I always feel somewhat antsy about it,” he began a time later, as they spoke of the pitfalls of their respective careers, chewing the corner of his lip. “It isn’t even an editing thing; your words just tend to get filtered through the gaze of so many other people and it ends up as a rendition of you rather than the definitive portrait. And preconceived notions can be tough to shake.”

Oh, the affinity. His words definitely struck a chord. “This is why I’m very interview shy. I’m too much of a juxtapose, and people don’t know how to take me. Yes, I’m quite quiet and introverted to a degree, but also, when it comes to my work, I don’t take any shit, and I will call people out on it. This leads to me being labelled as difficult, all because I tire of the same bullshit questions that my male counterparts don’t get asked, for example.

“So, I set certain terms, dictate which are allowed and unallowed questions, and that apparently makes me an obstreperous bitch. Journalists go in there and instead of focusing on what I actually say when they meet me, they’ve already made up their minds. Then the filtering you speak of happens, and it gets even fucking worse.” She paused then, tightening her mouth a little. “Just say if I talk too much. I tend to jabber on when I feel comfortable with somebody.”

He reached for her, sweeping the apple of her cheek with his thumb. “You’re fine. I like hearing your thoughts.” In turn, she liked sharing them, too. There was something about him she felt inexplicably drawn to, like she could trust him with anything, and not receive a drop of judgement; just a very good ear.

“So, why Seventh Gate?” he asked a while later, watching as she played with the flame on a candle she’d brought in to illuminate the space the darker it got. She detested false light as much as he did. “Is it from the urban legend?”

“Yes!” she enthused, utterly delighted at his accuracy. Surprisingly, not many people guessed right away. So the aforementioned legend stated, if anybody passed through all seven specific gates dotted around in a woodland area within Hellam Township in Pennsylvania, they descended directly to hell.

“A few buddies and I went and did the trail one time, drove down there with the location details of all the gates, but completely chickened out of crossing all of them. It was dumb, because it’s a complete myth, but nope, we were way too pussy to do it,” he laughed, watching as she giggled with mirth.

“We shot a music video there, got wasted drunk and ended up running through all of them. We did the last one bare assed naked, me with Jen on my back while chugging a bottle of vodka and screaming ‘take me Satan!’ at two in the morning, with the entire production crew crying laughing.”

“You’re fucking insane,” he laughed, that laughter loudening considerably as he pictured it.

“Yeah, we’re a little mental when the mood takes us.”

He could well believe it. “I sense there’s a lot more you could reveal that’d probably make my hair stand on end.”

Hmmm. To divulge her years as an absolute hellion to the nice guy sitting adjacent to her, or keep quiet? “C’mon, spill.”

Well, he asked for it.

“We got arrested for inciting a riot outside Tower Records in downtown Oklahoma, about five years ago. Huge police presence, fans jumping on cars, us thriving in the middle of it with our security team going crazy. It was fun. We got let out shortly after thanks to the negotiation skills of our manager, played the show that night, and then caused about ten grand’s worth of damage at the club the afterparty was held in.

“Still though, through all of that madness, I think I was just playing a part, getting the hedonism out of the way. I found fame so early, signed at seventeen, an album recorded in the same year and thrown out onto one tour after another for sixteen months without a real break. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I still like to party, but not to those kinds of extremes.”

“Not so wild any longer, huh?”

Oh, the grin that spread across her perfect, pillowy pout. It made him twitch quite sharply in a place he wasn’t sure he should quite so soon after meeting her. “Only in two places. On stage and in bed.”

He arched an eyebrow, eyes sweeping her a few times. “Being a tease again, hmm?”

“Depends.” The look she fixed him with amped his pulse instantly, Adrien not able to remember the last time he’d had such efficiently potent sexual magic cast upon him.

“On?”

Taking a big gulp of her wine, she licked a drop from her lip, staring into the blazing green of his eyes. “Whether if I came over there and straddled your lap, you’d let me kiss you or not.”

He had to admire her nerve. She had way more game than he did. His eyes fell to his thighs, then back at her with a smirk. “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

She moved the three feet separating them slowly, her glide all feline, much more cheetah than tame house cat, her eyes glinting like blue shards through the dim light. Moving carefully astride him, it burned slow like napalm, her hands resting to his chest, stroking down as he clasped her narrow waist, their foreheads touching.

“Mmm, wow, Mr. B,” she purred, her heart thundering through an inferno within her chest. “Aren’t you absolutely divine close up?” Her lips had caught his before he could even think of replying, their kiss deepening to a slow dance of tongues within a second. It was lazy, yet scorching, their hands roaming one another as the burn gained heat.

A soft moan echoed her throat, her hands moving to rake her nails down the dark stubbly beard flecking his cheeks and neck, the sound darting right to his cock. His entire being hummed with it, the desire to slowly peel off her clothes, but he wouldn’t be that guy. He never had been, and oh, how his body hated him for it, feeling her pressed right up against him, aching in his gut to take it further.

“Oh wow,” she murmured, her mouth moving to his neck to lay delicate little kisses, swirls of her tongue tasting his flesh, the salt of sweat mixed with whatever cologne he wore faintly lingering there against his gorgeous skin. “The way you kiss gives me serious cunt flutters.”

He snorted, laughing softly at her so alluringly delivered crudeness. “Yeah?”

“Mmhmm.” That little hum preceded her mouth landing upon his again, and god, how she could have ripped all of his clothes off and ridden him to the edges of heaven right there and then, she was so torridly aroused by the man beneath her. She wouldn’t, though. Gone were the days of quick sex with a hot guy simply to sate her desire. With him, she knew she wanted more. “Okay, if I don’t control myself now I never will, but please know you make that very difficult.”

He shook his head, arms tightening around her. “Sorry. I’m not about to let you go.” More kisses followed, a little calmer, gentler passions exchanged, the contented murmurs he made causing her heart to skip happily. At thirty-one years old, it had been a long, long time since a man had made her feel like she was a young woman in first flushes of becoming utterly besotted with somebody, and even though she was more than used to it, it pained her that she’d have to let him go in a few hours.

That feeling? It was entirely mutual.

Eventually, they settled to resting beside one another, two sets of long legs propped up on the table, Jade lying with her head against his chest as they talked, and talked, and talked.

“So, why’s it complicated?”

“Well, I suppose it isn’t really, but some would see it that way. We’re just a mixed bunch of nomads,” she began, before launching into the story of how she came to be. “So, my mum is the daughter of Italian immigrants. My grandmother was originally from Staten Island, brought there as a baby in arms after her parents moved from Sicily, but then relocated to the UK when my great-grandfather got work over in London for way more pay. They used their entire savings to take the ship voyage over and lived penniless in the Walthamstow slums until his wages came in.

“She grew up poor, but eventually prospered, met another son of Italians and married him, had my mum, but their marriage ended when she was eleven, so my grandmother moved her back to Staten Island for a fresh start. She wanted to be with a man who actually had time for her away from his career. My grandfather worked his way up from washing dishes to head chef, eventually restauranteur, and he always put work before his family, so my gran bailed and went back home.

“Then after four years, very sadly and quickly, she learned she had breast cancer and passed away, so my mum and uncles crossed the ocean again to return to London and live with my grandfather and his new wife. Are you keeping up so far?”

“I am,” he confirmed, making a side-to-side motion with his hand. “There’s a lot of back and forth between Staten Island and London, but I’m with you. Carry on.”

“See what I mean, though? Nomads! So then, mum starts dating this guy at eighteen and unexpectedly falls pregnant. She had no idea what to do, of course coming from a very devout Catholic background she felt guilty as hell over the idea of abortion, but knowing she’d only be nineteen when she gave birth was scary, too. To make it scarier, the guy she was with told her he wasn’t ready to become a father and vanished into thin air, leaving my poor mum alone with an impossible decision to make.

“Well, that was until she met my dad. They fell in love very quickly, and he told her it didn’t matter that she was carrying another man’s baby, he wanted to stand by her and raise me as his own. He always says, “We are not bonded by biology, but god sent you to me as my baby. You are my first born, always.” His name is on my birth certificate, and he adopted me right away. I mean, it’s obvious I’m not his biologically because he’s black, but he’s the only dad I know. You might have seen him earlier, actually. He was the guy who looks a little like Morgan Freeman who was probably looking at me with a mixture of mild despair and a lot of pride. He’s out here for work currently, so swung by to watch us.”

“Why despair?” he laughed, trying to remember if he’d seen such a man in the chaos of that afternoon.

“He says I’m entirely too noisy with a microphone in my hand.”

His mouth twitched into a lopsided grin, kissing the top of her head. “He’s got that right.”

“How are your eardrums now?” she asked, looking up at him with a grin that had him in soft fits.

“Better,” he confirmed, tightening his arm around her. “Continue.”

“Right, so yeah, dad is originally from Harlem, but he got a scholarship place at a university in London based on his academic excellence. And believe me, my dad is so, so smart. He’s a cardiothoracic surgeon. So, years later, after he’d fully qualified as a doctor and done five years of residency, he was offered a job at New York Presbyterian, we moved back to Harlem, lived in an apartment for a while and then they bought a beautiful brownstone that they still live in to this day.”

“Why did he choose London?” he asked, curious when there were so many amazing colleges in the US.

“He said he wanted to see a little more of the world before he locked himself into being a surgeon, so applied further afield. When he was still studying, him and my mum used to save all their cash and take little backpacking holidays in Europe when I was a baby. There’s a great picture he keeps in his wallet, holding me at the top of the Eifel Tower when I was one, screaming my lungs out!”

Something she had made a very good career out of, he thought. “Do they just have you, or have you any siblings?”

“A brother and a sister four years younger than me, twins, too. Rachel and Marco, named after my maternal grandfather and paternal grandmother. I got named after my mum’s favourite gemstone. She’s really into Oriental artefacts, it’s what she studied at uni around looking after me, Asian art. She works as a curator now at the Guggenheim, specialising in antiquities from Asia.” She then paused, looking up at him sheepishly. “I’m talking too much. Again.”

“Shut up,” he scolded softly, “I could listen to you tell me about your life for days.”

That made her smile, always thinking she went on entirely too much when she spoke of her life and loves. “Tell me more about yours. About your parents and siblings,” she requested, idly stroking his abs through the dark fabric of his t shirt.

“No siblings, mom said I was too much trouble to think about having more,” he joked, smiling at he thought about her. “She’s a painter and photographer, and my dad is a professor, he lectures in social science at NYU. He likes to paint, too, it’s what bonded them. He met her at an art class they were both taking while they were at university, and he said he has never, ever seen paint used in the haphazard way my mother creates her art. That’s what first attracted him to her, seeing this woman with her hair all pinned up with paint brushes, paint smudges all over her face, staring at her canvas with the kind of focus that made her look constipated, apparently.

“When I was a baby, she used to put my hands and feet in these huge tubs of paint and let me crawl around on giant canvases, and I’d thrive, covering myself in as many colours as I could, rolling around and making a huge mess. My grandmother used to shake her head, baffled at it all, but my mom was just like, “He’s expressing himself, I’m starting him early!” I love to paint for hours, days even when I’m not working. My overall creative drive definitely comes from them. Well, her mostly. The Lois Brody method.”

Her head shot up, eyes rounding. “Your mum is Lois Brody? Oh my god, she’s a legend! I love her photographs!” she cried, Adrien smiling with pride.

“Yeah, she’s amazingly talented. Has this way of capturing something completely minute that others wouldn’t notice and making it the focal point of the entire photograph. I don’t know how she does it, but she’s incredible at seeing what others miss,” he revealed, still smiling widely. He was very proud of his mother, and it showed.

“I had no idea you were her son, but then I don’t know who anybody is. It’s actually embarrassing, how it sails over my head, or how I get people confused. I met Katy Perry and thought she was Zooey Deschanel recently. I told her I recognised her from the TV show Weeds, and she’s just like, ‘eh?’ at me. I’m such a twat,” she confessed, hiding her face behind her hand as he laughed.

“Don’t feel bad, I’m not clued up on pop culture either,” he reassured her, Jade suddenly snorting.

“That isn’t even my worst one. Jen and I went on holiday to Nepal a few years back, and I saw a guy dressed in orange riding a bike and thought he was the Dalai Lama! The tour guide was in hysterics.”

As was Adrien, laughing so hard, he had tears in his eyes. “His holiness on a bicycle. That’s amazing!”

“He might like to cycle! You don’t know that he doesn’t!” she cried in a cutely comic voice, her laughter escalating as she sat up, the gorgeous man who embraced her unable to stop himself from completely falling apart.

“Stop it,” he hissed, one arm still around her, the other hugging his stomach, which was starting to hurt. “You’re so damned funny, oh my god.” He composed himself for all of three seconds before falling to pieces again, Jade softly slapping his chest. “I can’t breathe!”

“It isn’t that funny,” she protested, laughing now purely at him continuing to crack up.

“Yes, it is!”

He wouldn't forget that in a hurry, or the night he was sharing with her either, looking at his watch and becoming painfully aware he likely didn’t have long left with her as ten o’clock loomed, asking the question he’d been putting off for the last few hours. “How long do I have you for, then?”

“Until midnight. Then I turn back into a pumpkin.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“You know, like Cinderella.”

Oh, god. He couldn’t handle so much laughter. “Cinderella doesn’t turn into a pumpkin, her coach does!”

Cringing, she hid her face, shaking with laughter. “Oh, yeah that’s right.”

“You’re incredible,” he laughed, holding her close again. “I don’t know how the hell I’m gonna let you go in two hours, you know. This idea doesn’t sit well.”

“No,” she sighed wistfully, stroking his chest, placing a kiss against his collar bone. “Not with me either. God knows when I’ll get to see you again, because I really want to. I’m locked into touring until December, though.”

“Yeah, I have two weeks off as of today and then I’m going to Hawaii to shoot Predators. I’ll be there for a month for all the outdoor filming, then back for a month and a half in LA to finish the rest, then I have three weeks of press stuff booked more or less solidly until mid-December.”

“Boo hiss,” she pouted, hand moving to stroke his face, hating that it would likely be around three months until she got to spend time with the lovely man whose arms she lay in again. “It’s what we signed up for with our careers, but it doesn’t stop it from being disappointing when things like this happen. When you meet someone you really find a connection to, and then can’t spend any further time with them.”

He looked sad, kissing her head, the cogs in his brain beginning to turn as he entered a few moments of contemplation. “What if I didn’t have to leave you just yet?” Met by a face of curiosity, he continued. “How do you feel about tour bus stowaways coming along on tour with you for a week, should said prospective stowaway be able to make that happen?”

Her eyes lit up, pushing herself to sit straighter. “Really? You could do that?”

“Maybe. Gimme ten minutes to go and check.” Kissing her, he stood up, lighting a cigarette and pulling his phone out, heading back down to the front of the bus to make a phone call, the night air cooler than the heat of the day he’d felt himself baking under. While he made a call to his manager, Jade sat and fiddled with her jewellery, nervously awaiting his return. What if he couldn’t? But, oh. The joy if he could.

She could scarcely believe it, that the man actually wanted to blow off his commitments in order to spend a week on a bus with her while she and her band travelled around California to continue to west coast dates of their tour. Seven days with him, although of course it wouldn’t be all of the time, having her own interviews to be present for along the way, visits to radio stations as well, a webcast she was also taking part in too around their live performances. Some of the time would be better than nothing at all, though.

When he walked back in, her heart catapulted into her mouth, his face expressionless before slowly, he began to beam. “Looks like you have me for another week.”

He was deafened for the second time that day, this time by the pitch of the excited shriek she let out, scrambling from her seat and bouncing up into his arms, raining kisses all over his face as he laughed softly, holding her tight.

Seven days. Seven days that would change everything for them both.

#adrien brody fanfiction #adrien brody #adrien brody smut #adrien brody x ofc #adrien brody fanfic #adrien brody fic #sky full of stars #adrien and jade

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nikatyler · 2 months

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✈️ 🐷 ❤️ 🤍 🧐 For Sharon

Thank you! This took me ages to figure out for some reason. But here we go!

✈️ AIRPLANE — does your oc like traveling, or do they consider themselves a more homey person?

She has to travel a lot for her athletic competitions. She likes visiting new places but hates the travel part, especially if it's far away and she has to sit in the car or plane or whatever for a long long time. She loves travelling with Tyler but their idea of an ideal vacation is different. While she’d like a more active vacation, going hiking, exploring nature and places, Tyler would rather stay in the city or at the beach and just rest and relax. But hey, they’re good at coming to a compromise that works for them both.

🐷 PIG FACE — what is your oc's favorite animal?

I can see a wolf being her favourite animal.

❤️ RED HEART — what are three of your oc's positive traits?

She’s doing a pretty great job at not comparing herself to others. One of her quotes to live by is “you’re only competing against who you were yesterday”.

But don’t get me wrong, she’s not obsessed with chasing perfection either, aside from her sports career maybe. There she wants to be the very best and she’s setting impressive goals for herself, she’s quite ambitious and she's willing to do whatever it takes to reach her dreams.

She doesn’t let gossip and rumours dictate how she should feel about a person. She doesn’t jump on the hate train without hesitation…heck, she doesn’t really jump on the hate train at all. She’s just not a hateful person, and if you have an issue with someone, there are better ways to deal with that than to let your whole soul be consumed with hate and rage towards them.

🤍 WHITE HEART — what are three of your oc's neutral/questionable traits?

She's got a bit of a “I'm not like the other girls” syndrome. It's something she grows out of as time goes but it's definitely there when she first shows up in the story.

…and now I noticed I misread the question, I thought it said negative. Well, the “I’m not like the other girls” mindset sure is questionable, eh? As a former not like the other girls person now not like the other swifties person, I’d say it’s complex. It doesn’t have to be entirely negative, it’s just…not very healthy overall.

She can come off distant, cold and uninterested a lot of times, even if she is actually interested. It goes beyond the resting bitch face, which she sure puts on often unintentionally. I dunno. It’s like the emotional switch in her brain takes a bit to flip on. People who know her know that, but it can intimidate strangers. (which…can be a good thing sometimes, now that I think about it 😂)

You don’t want to argue with her. You just don’t. She’s not hotheaded, she won’t yell at you immediately, but she can do it. Her angry fiery part doesn’t show up often, again, if she’s pissed she’s more ice-like, but when the fire starts, you won’t soon forget it.

🧐 FACE WITH MONOCLE — is your oc more logical or emotional?

I think I sort of said it in the above answer – at first, it’s cold logic, rationality, analyzing facts and acting purely based on them. But a lot of times, the switch eventually flips and emotions kick in. And I'd say it depends a lot on the situation or the problem, too.

#ts4 #sims 4 #the sims 4 #sims #simblr #rose legacy extra #oc: sharon #blorbo talks

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owmylasagna-blog · 3 months

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So, what's the real appeal in Ed/May? I see that this popular, but over all the show I see aproximately zero positive moments/development between them, including in the finale. Nothing positive, I can't think of anything that wasn't one-sided or outright negative. And I think Ed deserves faaar better than her; I don't see him just forgeting all she made and sudenly falling in love with her (fanfics where they're just dating out of nowhere specially irks me) without any explanation or development.

The appeal seems just ''pair the dumb/goofy ones'' (why not Ed/Nazz? Or Ed/Rolf? Or even Ed/Jonny?)

Honestly, I'm under the impression people only ship it as a Beta Couple for Edd/Eddy, and nothing else more. Your reasoning?

Wow I’m actually pretty glad I got this question because I’ve had a half baked post on this very subject that’s been sitting in my drafts for weeks. Now I have a reason to actually share it.

And from the jump, no I don’t ship Ed and May solely because I’m an eddeddy shipper. I actually see some interesting potential here! I also ship Ed wildly because he’s just a lover boi in my mind. Perhaps even most wildly out of the entire cast of the show: I have the receipts for dabbling in edrolf and ednazz but I can really only imagine those pairings as little flings.

So what is it about edmay that works?

Of the three Kanker sisters, May actually seems to be the only one to genuinely have a crush on her preferred Ed. It goes beyond the typical taunting and harassing her sisters subject the other Eds to. The intro to Hanky Panky Hullabaloo is a prime example of this: May makes a mushy valentine and Marie and Lee make fun of her for it. Afterwards the two talk about May behind her back: “Now we know who got mom’s genes.” “Hormones”. I think it's an interesting summary of how the sisters have differing perspectives on relationships and how they think about boys/men. While Marie and Lee are more disenchanted by romance, they see May as more naive and prone to getting emotionally attached in the same way their mom probably falls for one disappointing man after another. Anyway, the point is that I think May cares whether Ed reciprocates those feelings while Marie and Lee don’t with Eddy or Edd.

CUTE!

Now we have Ed’s reactions to May. In the earlier seasons, he doesn’t seem as averse to the Kanker harassment. Honestly sometimes he’s sort of enjoying it or just not bothered at all. I don’t think Ed generally would show his interests or feelings in a very typical way. Actually the most damning evidence that he might actually be attracted at all to May or just girls period are the moments where he is acting the most repulsed by them. We are talking about a 12 year old after all, probably a bit panicked by some new hormones and feelings about “icky girls”: to me, it reads as the early stages of immature boyish attraction.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t include at least one reference to the Ed-cyclopedia that is Kevin Lordi (as per usual), who got the scoop that the writers toyed with the idea of making Ed and May canon in the earlier seasons, even scraped S2 episode where they are caught kissing in the bushes being the basis for HPH (Lordi 2017, 2018).

So what is in this ship for them? I really like exploring this ship because of many of the parallels I see in their characters. I think it’s safe to say that Ed and May are respective outliers in their trios: May being the younger punching bag to her older sisters, Ed sort of being off on his own planet or plane of existence from Edd and Eddy most of the time. I could see both naturally branching out on their own while the remaining two are prone to buddying up. Other similarities, as you mention, also make them a cute pair: they are goofy, a bit ditzy, naturally kind hearted, a bit off beat, a tad (or a lot) gross. Nothing wrong with that!

Both come from pretty bleak home lives, lacking in support or parental nurturing. For this reason, you see them often compensating by being the nurturing types themselves: Ed being the protective big brother to Sarah and his two best pals, May often playing out a maternal fantasy (more than once she plays mommy and baby in the show; coddling Jimmy in BPS). Now just think of a relationship where these two get together!!! Having an outlet for compassion AND on the receiving end of it. I think they have the potential to have a very sweet relationship ripe for healing and personal growth.

I see them coming to appreciate each other with a bit of time and maturity, maybe striking up a friendship first before actually dating later in their teens or early adulthood. Oddly enough I make lots of parallels between Edd and May as well and could easily imagine some aspects of Edd and Ed’s friendship manifesting in edmay. The biggest factor being what I said about May having this maternal care-taker drive. Seeing as the Kanker sisters just about raised themselves and had to grow up really fast, you end up with a very “parentified” child. And if Edd isn’t the poster child for being a parentified kid I don’t know what… Anyway, in the same way that Edd acts as a stand-in parental figure to Ed I think May would quickly take on a similar role. I’m NOT endorsing this dynamic as 100% positive!!! I think it would be complicated! But it’s an interesting ship dynamic nonetheless and I’m trying to explore that in my aged up AU now.

#love having a reason to talk about edmay more! there isn’t enough discussion about them #yap yap dribble dribble #edmay

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huynun · 3 months

Text

Alright so I’ve made some decisions as to how things begin

Kwami Configuration:

Lila: Butterfly / stole it from her relative (aunt maybe?) and later realized it was magic

Agreste Adults: Peacock (broken) / they found it and the book because of Emilie’s interest in archaeology and since they’re rich, they got a lot of leeway

Master Fu: The rest / he knows that the butterfly miraculous appeared in Paris and is held by someone with malicious intent, since ladybug and cat are a pair, they need to be released together and they are the best suited to be up against another miraculous

Marinette: Receives Ladybug / she gets the same test but can only use the Lucky Charm power

Adrien: Receives Cat / he gets the same test but now his father + Nathalie know where he wants to go and can rescind his admission to the school (later, after he sneaks away once or twice successfully and once or twice not, Nath makes a case to his father that if they let him go to school where they know he’ll be, they can keep him safer than if he sneaks away to make friends where they don’t know)

At school

- the class all knows one another and are friendly, if not completely friends from being in the same class as usual

- marinette’s parents tried to get her out of Chloe’s class but Damocles doesn’t believe them since he hasn’t gotten any reports from Bustier about bullying so he won’t humor them

- since it’s a private school and marinette’s on a scholarship, they can’t kick up too much of a fuss

- Alya, Adrien, and Lila are all new to the class and school

- Alya & Marinette and Adrien & Nino become fast friends

- Lila doesn’t start big since he wants to feel things out and has a crutch in the form of magic jewelry that can help her with her intentions of power

- Adrien doesn’t make it in for the first day (or first few days?) but he does make it in

- marinette doesn’t really know about Adrien (at most a sort of oh that name sounds familiar) and they still get off on the wrong foot

- I don’t believe in suddenly being in love but I’ll allow her to fall in love after a bit of interaction with him after she realizes he has a good heart they’re friendly for a bit since they’re like 13

- we don’t start with stoneheart, instead Lila makes mostly mind control akumas or ones that change people’s images physically

- thus, marinette and Adrien start on equal footing in terms of powers

- I’ll allow Adrien a similar concession where he falls in love quickly because lb he falls for her cleverness and confidence when she isn’t overthinking

- at the beginning, akumas are small scale and mostly just impact their school/general area since Lila is just using it as a way to get attention

- for clarity, Lila doesn’t tell anyone that she has magic jewelry but she’ll use the akumas to garner sympathy or admiration

- though, she does keep getting sidelined by marinette actually doing things and problem solving because she’s genuinely nice

- the movements of the miraculi around their school gets some attention and Alya does get attention through her blog but it’s not a huge thing beyond at the very beginning

- (most of the public treats it as a weird publicity stunt since the akuma and their impacts are very minor)

- however since Gabriel knows and has extrapolated about the miraculi, he begins scoping things out since that could be the answer to his problems

#anew au #mlb #mlb au #miraculous ladybug #lila rossi #emilie agreste #gabriel agreste #master fu #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste

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yoimix · 2 years

Text

「言って」

[note: fem!reader]

ITTO's words might not always make sense. scratch that, his words might as well be up for interpretation by sumeru scholars specializing in human psychology. but he desperately needs to tell you that he is so, so in love with you.

when it comes to him, he’s always gone all out for everything, especially if they’re fun. the problem lies with you. you are fun, but you are also more than that. you’re pretty and you’re soft, you’re kind and you’ve got the nicest smile. itto’s confused beyond himself as to why he can’t just smash through with his words as usual. his gang gets what he’s saying, right? so why can’t you?

it’s probably because he can’t say a single word when you’re in front of him. the conversation goes haywire and itto forgets all about the date he was supposed to ask you on. besides, he can’t decide on where he’ll take you. but also, you have to agree on that date first. all of these thoughts are spinning around in his head, making a very bad bean soup. that’s how itto feels anyway.

“shinobu! this is not going to work,” itto whines, slumping forward on his desk. “we’ve already tried out all your plans a-z.”

shinobu sighs, her mask airing up. “it’s true that y/n-san can be a bit dense but this is all your fault. you start talking about something else altogether. did you really have to bring up your onikabuto matches last time? we were stuck collecting them for three hours.”

“but she fell asleep on my shoulder! and i got to carry her home.” itto brightens up at the memory.

“do you want to ask her on a date or stay in the... the friend zone forever?”

itto grumbles, slumping further. he’s not going to get his way like this. his thoughts are turning into a haze of dark clouds now.

“but,” shinobu interjects. “you can ask y/n-san for the summer festival. it’s indirect, it’s fun and you’ll get to see her in a pretty kimono. i bet you can win her stuff too! just- just don’t eat the snacks yourself.”

“of course not, shinobu! i know how dates work. besides, y/n eats everything before i’ve even seen what she’s holding. she’ll hit me if i take her stuff.”

shinobu shakes her head and itto’s about to point it out when she grabs his shoulders. “leader. i believe in you. you can ask y/n-san on a date without messing up this time.”

itto feels a bit of his confidence return to him. shinobu’s right. what’s the worst that could happen? he’s only failed twenty-six times. unlike the alphabet, there’s infinite possible numbers and that means plan one is now in motion.

“leader.”

kuki’s voice interrupts the plumage of numbers fluttering around in itto’s head as he tries to mark how many attempts it should take to ask a question.

“if i may ask, what makes you so interested in y/n-san?”

“oh. that’s easy. she jumped into the puddle with me.”

“huh?”

itto can’t explain it well enough. after all, it’s been years since then and his memory’s getting hazy. but the feeling of warmth when he saw you, in your hand-sewn yellow kimono, take a small step forward and a big splash into the puddle with the big and scary oni terrorizing the village; he knew he wanted you to be by his side forever. you were only eight, and he, a mere little demon of ten years old. he admits he was a bit of a menace, but he never meant harm. the village folk couldn’t understand.

but you did.

shinobu takes a sharp breath, snapping itto out of his reminiscence.

“there she is! go!” shinobu gives him a hard shove, making him almost trip into the mud. “just say: let’s go on a date. four words! i know you can do this, boss.”

and just like that, he’s left alone with you, who’s noticed him by now and is grinning ear to ear as you make your way to him. oh no. itto’s feeling it again. like his heart’s about to sneeze but he just can’t get it out. is that a new hairpin on you? gosh, it’s cute.

itto loudly clears his throat, putting on a strange suave manner of speaking. he learned it from the blue fellow that comes to beetle fight with him. “hello there, (name).”

“why do you sound so strange?” you tilt your head.

caught in just three words?! how is supposed to make it through to asking you out?

“say, itto. i’ve been looking for you-”

“you have?” he didn’t mean to interrupt and he has to hold in a groan.

“y-yes.” you pause, a small smile adorning your pretty face as you look down. “yoimiya-san was saying...”

oh no, not that girl. itto can’t have her stealing you too now that she’s stolen the kids’ attentions.

“you don’t have to hang out with her when i’m here!” he points at himself, an expression so serious you can’t help your burst of laughter.

“itto, of course i’ll hang out with you! but you’ve been acting strange these past few days... did i do something wrong?”

you hold in a sigh. you won’t say it out loud but you hate that he’s not talking to you like he used to anymore. you miss holding hands like when you were children too but that’s probably taking it too far. sweet, innocent itto could never know how you feel.

“fireworks,” he blurts.

you raise an eyebrow.

“you’re like fireworks- no my chest is like fireworks when you’re around!” itto’s shoulders tense up, trying his best to convey his feelings to you.

he clears his throat. this is no way for a man to act, and he’s better than all of them!

“wait, that’s not what i meant to say! i meant... fireworks... flowers... uh...”

“you wanna go to the summer festival together?” you ask, your face breaking into a wide smile. your eyes are sparkling. god, you’re so cute itto’s heart might just leap out of his chest with a wedding ring ready. “i heard yoimiya-san is working on her biggest project yet. isn’t that exciting? i wanna watch those fireworks with you...”

you cover your mouth, like you didn’t mean to blurt that out. maybe he’s rubbing off on you. itto tries not to feel that weird sense of pride.

“yes!” he straightens. “exactly! you get me. maybe we’re soulmates...”

he did not mean to say that out loud but the sound of your giggles is worth the slip of tongue.

“you’re so funny, itto. i’ve always known we are.”

#genshin fluff #genshin x reader #itto x reader #arataki itto x reader #itto fluff #arataki itto fluff #genshin drabble #genshin one shot #genshin scenario #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact x you #genshin impact scenarios #arataki itto x you #yoimix.drabble

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eddiebun · 2 years

Text

softie

pairing ; eddie munson x fem!reader ♡

summary ; you’ve been neglecting the person who’s been longing for you most..

genre/warning ; just a short angsty, fluffy piece

fairy note ; i hope someone can enjoy this bc this is a super rushed lil piece aha ha,,

you were a dreamer, the glass half full kinda person, always high-spirited, and vibrant and you carried a bounce in every step.

so when you sat down with a glimmer in your eye and a beaming grin on your face to announce some big news— you were high-hoped, expecting reciprocated excitement but most of all, approval from your best friend, eddie munson.

“what’s got you so cheery?” mike spoke up, sipping on the orange juice box he had stuffed in his bag before school.

“maybe eddie finally told her.” dustin nudged mike and you leaned in, eyes narrowing in confusion, temporarily diverting from your original plan, upon hearing eddie had something to tell you, which he had not yet done.

“told me what?” you interrogated the boy and he grimaced, eyes darting back and forth between you, and the scraggly long-haired boy he bought up in conversation, cursing under his breath before continuing.

“he wanted to keep it a surprise so don’t tell him we said anything or he’ll kick our ass!” henderson whispers harshly and you nod, once again peering back at eddie briefly.

mike rolled his eyes at his friend's evident secrecy, not very stealthy, “he’s planning that dnd campaign you’ve been writing about, y’know that whole book you had with the art? the town it’s set in, the spells, races, and monsters— yeah well, he’s basically been studying it for the next campaign on friday.”

your eyes lit up in pure delight, “really?!” you gasped, clutching your hands near your heart and kicking your feet under the table.

it was always a plus to your friends that you were so approachable and open-minded, you let yourself be influenced by their interests so you could find the fun and joy in it, with them, but when eddie met you that's one he loved most out of so many of your qualities. you didn't criticize him, make snide jokes at his expense and to him, that was so new, so refreshing. everything that would excite him, would excite you just as much, you loved participating, adapting, listening, and being enthusiastic about what eddie loved, it bought you much more joy rather than any interest you had yourself.

so when you had finished your first campaign with eddie and his friends you had been jumping up and down eager for the next one and then the next one, one after the other every single time, even if it took a while for eddie to set them up.

you had gotten hit with a wave of inspiration that translated into pouring into your little notebook, a whole new dnd world. pages upon pages of written up homebrew lore and doodles to go along with everything, it wasn’t so serious to you at first, just a thing you did in your spare time but when eddie caught sight of it he asked you a million questions, insisting that it wasn’t stupid— like you had thought and he even told you he’d be able to incorporate some, if not all, of your written up ideas into a campaign or two one day and you were beyond overjoyed, you didn’t even know he could do that! it honestly only made you fall a little harder for the brown haired boy but you always pushed those feelings aside.

you glanced back at eddie upon hearing the news, wanting to stride over to him at the top of the table and crush him in a suffocating hug, but you couldn’t, this was a surprise he was planning for you.

the whole town treated eddie as if he was less than dirt under their shoes, they knew nothing about him, wouldn't even greet him with a kind glance, let alone begin to understand him. they all held so much judgment and animosity with no valid reasoning and it would break your heart— eddie, in a sad but better-then-dwelling way, just brushed it off, mumbling to you it's fine every time someone would utter freak under their breath or gesture mockingly to him. it wasn't fine, it never was, it was cruel and unfair and if it wouldn't make it worse on eddie's behalf, you would've said something, confronted them all one by one but maybe you were a bit of a coward.. an appeaser.

“what’s so funny over there henderson?” eddie called out, watching the kid's eyes go wide before he shook his head, going quiet, not wanting to get caught upon revealing the sweet plans eddie had with you in mind.

you cleared your throat, an opportune time to intervene, “i have something to share with everyone.” your voice wavered a little, everyone’s eyes now on you.

“well.. you all know chris? i'm thinking about maybe making it serious with him.” you announced with a taut laugh, rubbing your palms on your thighs, the silence making them clammy.

“like basketball chris? friends-with-mega-asshole-jason kinda chris?” gareth asked, wide-eyed and the sandwich he was eating, forgotten about on the table.

“yeah! but he’s not like jason! h-he’s really nice!” you told them, hands coming up like you were already trying to defend yourself, glancing eddie’s way but he was hard to read, just staring down at the bag of nuts he was snacking on.

“wait y/n, we didn’t think you were actually serious about that guy, like yeah maybe he’s a prom date or whatever but date, date?” dustin spoke up, leaning back in his chair and looking at you in disbelief, eyes boring into you like it would help convince you.

“huh? he’s not an asshole.” your shoulders slumped, a pang in your heart at everyone's instant gloomy response.

"yeah, i'm sure he's not like that, that you can totally fix him." mike cooed sarcastically and you scowled at the boy.

"wow, i wish i never said anything, sorry, was just an idea.." your arms crossed over your chest, breathing picking up in frustration.

you heard a chair screech across the floor on the other side of the table, wincing at the sound as you watched eddie walking out of the cafeteria, metal lunchbox under his arm, and snacks forgotten about on the table.

you sighed, leaning your head back, feeling dejected and foolish for bringing chris up when clearly everyone but you knew that he was a touchy subject.

it was wednesday now, two days since you had sat down at the table, found out about that surprise, told everyone about you and chris and two days since eddie hadn't spoken to you.

it was apparent that he was ignoring you, eddie would never avoid you like he had been, he always made time for you and would drop everything for you.

you didn't even go directly home that day, you went straight to eddie's trailer and despite not seeing eddie's van you still knocked on the front door, being greeted by his uncle and of course, being told eddie hadn't come home yet.

wayne even let you inside and you waited around for eddie for an hour or so, wayne even noticed you looked a little distressed and offered to tell eddie you had stopped by and to reach out, so eventually, you went on your way.

and even now you were still feeling troubled, chris in the driver's seat beside you as he took you home after your third date together. this was supposed to be a good night and it was, the date was sweet but you couldn't help but feel bummed out all night but on the brighter side chris hadn't picked up on it and maybe you were just convincing yourself that chris didn't need to hear any of your worries or perhaps you were a little cautious bringing up your friends in front of him.

it was true, you had never picked up on chris being anything as bad or radical as jason, the bigoted, arrogant dipstick that terrorized anyone abnormal.

sure.. he was friends with the guy but, you've had questionable friends before, okay maybe not, you did cut those friends off once you found out how awful they are. but you were trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, jason didn't have to ruin everything for everyone else.

"thanks, chris." you gave him a brief smile once you saw him pull up outside your place, leaning in to place a peck on his cheek, squeezing his hand, and promising to see him again tomorrow.

"who's that?" you felt chris leaning away, ducking his head and squinting to try to make out the figure leaning beside your door.

you followed his line of sight, instantly recognizing eddie and laughing in disbelief and a little bit of panic, "o-oh, that's my friend, i don't know what he's doing—"

"listen i know you can choose whoever you wanna be friends with, but don't you hang out with way too many guys? and he's just waiting around outside your place? isn't that one guy some drug dealer too ?" chris looked ahead at you and you blinked at him, void of any expression, "i'm just looking out for you y/n."

"don't.. don't say that." you scoffed, mouth hanging open before you pushed open the passenger door and walked towards eddie, hearing chris's footsteps behind you.

"eddie munson." chris spoke up first, before letting you even say anything.

you saw eddie's head snap in the direction of you both and you felt your heart twinge, his big puppy eyes looking between you both knowingly as he already turned on his feet to leave.

"see, told you these guys are up to no good, he's already running off like he got caught." chris scoffed, a stupid smug smile on his face.

you felt like you couldn't move in the moment, stiff and horrified.

you blinked and eddie was already pulling out the driveway, breathing in and out slowly, you turned around, "i never want to see you ever again." you muttered under your breath, trembling.

“y/n wha—“

“leave! right now!” you screeched, shoving him back with a firm shove, “you don’t get to talk about my friends like that, i don’t want anything to do with you.” you grimaced, looking him up and down before walking away in the direction of the side walk, fists balled up in frustration.

“you deserve whatever you get coming your way, you’re just like them, freak!” chris yelled bitterly, window rolled down as he zoomed past you.

you didn’t care how many i-told-you-so’s you’d have to endure upon the result of this, all you cared about was getting to eddie.

you were breathless and cold by the time you had gotten to his trailer on foot but regardless, you were there and eddie was too, you noticed his van parked on the grass.

“eddie!” you whispered out harshly, knocking on his window since you didn’t want to disturb wayne this time.

“eddie please, open the window, i gotta talk to you.” you got on your tip toes, peering through, jumping in shock when you saw it whip open and eddie standing there.

“i don’t feel like talking anymore, i’ll take you home but you can’t be here right now.” he shook his head, going to walk away but you called out for him again.

“hey, i’m sorry, p-please just let me in, it’s freezing fucking cold eddie.” you whined.

“yeah it is cold, i know.” he scoffed, watching you push yourself inside, he still helped you get safely on your feet, despite how upset he was.

“hey, i didn’t know you were back there waiting for me.. i’m sorry and about chris i’m—“ eddie cut you off, letting out a groan.

“don’t bother.” eddie forced out a laugh, sitting at the edge of his bed and twiddling rolling papers between his fingers, “i’m just some good for nothing drug dealer.” he nodded condescendingly, you went to speak up but eddie continued, “so really y/n you don’t have to bother anymore, i’m kinda done with all this.” he shrugged nonchalantly.

you were speechless, staring at the back of his head and squeezing onto your arm to comfort yourself, “you don’t mean that.” you shook your head, “a-and i don’t agree with him! i never would, i swear eddie, if i agreed i wouldn’t be here!” you breathed out, desperate.

“oh please, you just pity me— i mean c’mon..” he glanced back at you, throwing his hands up in defeat, “don’t pretend you’re not happy seeing me like this.”

you frowned in displeasure, shaking your head rapidly, “you know i’m not like that. the last thing i want to do is u-upset you eddie.” you felt your bottom lip quivering, tears threatening to spill.

“maybe that’s true but i find it hard to believe.” he sighed, breathing out the smoke he just inhaled and you noticed his hands trembling.

“no, eddie, listen to me.” you insisted, kneeling down in front of him and taking a hold of his free hand in yours, looking up at him with big eyes.

“i would never purposefully do that and i’m so sorry i let you down i-i let someone i vouched for talk to you like that..” you bite down on your bottom lip, trying not to get worked up. “i should’ve listened, to the others about what they said but i was stubborn.. i-i was hopeful, liked his affection, it didn’t have to be him but it happened to be and i took it like an idiot.” you shook your head.

“i’m sorry, that’s not the point but, eddie.. believe me, i’ll never let that happen again.” you squeezed his hand, holding his gaze.

“you really like him?” eddie tilted his head up a little, eyes darting away from you.

“i did.. i was starting to,” you admitted, “but it’s true, he’s like the others.” you mumbled, looking down and squeezing your eyes together, wanting the ground to swallow you hole.

how could you be so stupid, letting this happen, expecting everything to be dandy. it was ridiculous.

“i’m just.. i’m not as upset at you for falling for him, i’m not.” he shook his head, “i think i’m upset at myself more than anything.” he spoke quietly, you could barely hear him.

you frowned, not understanding but you didn’t force anything out at him, just comfortingly giving his hand a squeeze.

“because.. i like— i mean, ugh!” eddie groaned, rubbing his fingers to his temples and tapping his feet anxiously against the floorboards of the trailer, “i’ve like fallen really hard for you.” he admitted, eyes squeezed shut and hand covering his face.

your mouth gaped open and it was silent for a what felt like forever but was probably just a few seconds before eddie spoke up again, peeking out from the gaps in his fingers, “i don’t wanna take it out on you, like it’s your fault because it’s not, and really y/n, i don’t want your pity, whether guys you’re into insult me or not. just kinda hurts,” he breathed out, hands moving into his lap as he fiddled with the rings on his fingers, “so, if you let me be selfish we can forget this happened, go back to normal or i can forget about what chris said, you can go back to him, stop wasting time here.” he shrugged.

you couldn’t believe what he was even suggesting of you right now, “eddie, stop, stop doing that.” you frowned, “i don’t wanna go anywhere. i’m staying right here.” you insisted, taking a deep breath.

“i’ve thought about us too..” you admitted, laughing nervously and staring down at the floor, “before i ever even met chris or anything.” you shrugged, “i just.. you always talk about leaving hawkins behind and, i thought that meant you’d leave me behind too so i tried to just suppress that kinda feeling you know?” you winced at your words, feeling like your heart was beating out of your chest.

“sorry, it sounds stupid.” you shook your head, breathing out shakily and glancing up at him.

“no, it’s not stupid, what i said was stupid, making you think i’d leave you behind, i’d never be able to do that unless you forced me to.” he laughed out before pursing his lips together, eyes shyly hovering over your face, “you really used to like me though or you’re just saying that?”

“used to?” you widened your eyes before scratching behind your head shyly, “i mean.. i never really stopped thinking about the what ifs so i don’t think it’s ever been a used to..” you were nervous, being so open with him but it was a relief in a way, “so i think.. i still feel that kinda way.” you bit on the inside of your lip.

eddie’s was in disbelief, but he believed you, he didn’t have zero doubts or worries, but he could feel you were being genuine, and eddie always went with his heart, he was just a big softie at the end of the day, “so i like you, and you.. like me as well?” he asked quietly, pursing his lips together to stop the big dumb smile that was threatening to overtake his features.

“it seems like that.” you laughed, looking up at him and reaching out to take his hand, “d’you wanna hug a little?” you asked quietly, blinking up at him with the cutest expression he had ever seen.

“yes, i’d like that.” he whispered, almost inaudible but it didn’t matter, feeling him tug you up into his hold, arms snug around your waist as you laid on top of him, giggling and arms wrapping around his shoulders.

“does this mean i can take you on a date?” he asked, mumbling with his face against your shoulder and you nodded,

“mhm, you can take me on so many dates eddie munson, all the dates in the world.” you grinned from ear to ear, basking in his comfortingly warmth.

you fluttered your eyes open once you felt eddie tilting your chin up, seeing his face leaning up underneath you and you squeezed onto him reassuringly, leaning in to press your lips to his.

the way both your mouths meshed together, even if it was a little clumsy at first, sharing giggles— it felt so long overdue and natural to you both, letting yourselves run out of breath, feeling the way eddie kept his head leaned up and kissed over your every feature.

“you’re so pretty, i wanna make you my girl.” he spoke out, cheeks tinted pink and you could’ve leaned in to kiss him more for hours on end.

“then i guess i’m eddie munson’s girl, sounds pretty nice to me.” you winked, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“oh! does this mean i’m re-invited to the campaign on friday? since you’re not being grumpy and ignoring me anymore?” you teased at which eddie playfully rolled his eyes.

“you were never uninvited, it’s for you anyway.” he shrugged, fingers dragging up and down soothingly on your arm.

“i know..” you smirked, mischievous giggle at the tip of your turn as you watched eddie’s bottom lip jut out.

“what ho— oh those little shits! they told you didn’t they?!” eddie sat up a little with you, mouth agape.

“hey! it’s fine, doesn’t ruin it for me, i love it, thank you.” you cupped his face, watching him shyly glance away, big twinkly eyes crinkling into a smile.

“well, i’m still mad at them.” he huffed, rolling his eyes and pretending to be tough, but it only made him look a hundred times cuter.

“mhm, my big scary softie!” you cooed,

"you're nghm—" you squished his cheeks together, hearing him grumble in protest before tugging your hands away from his face, "i said you're gonna be the death of me." he chuckled, kissing each of your fingers, "but i think i'm okay with that." he sighed out contently.

you've never felt everything so in place, right where you've always meant to be.

#fairy fics 🤍#eddie munson #eddie #eddie stranger things #stranger things eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #stranger things angst #stranger things fluff

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fleckcmscott · 9 months

Text

Every Day

Summary: After their first New Year's celebration, Arthur and Y/N ponder how to proceed.

Words: 3,731

Warnings: None

A/N: Familiar ground is covered in this story, but with my last few pieces being set later in Arthur and Y/N's relationship, I wanted to revisit the blooms at the beginning. I hope you all like it! Many thanks to @jokerownsmysoul for beta-ing! 😃

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

December 31st, 1981.

One week ago. Seven days. One hundred and forty-seven hours - not that she kept count. The night Y/N had screwed up her courage and told Arthur she wanted them to live together. Spilling that in Gotham Square, amidst sparkling fireworks and noisemakers, glittering confetti and flowing champagne, had been what she truly desired. Not a mere reflection of the city's dreams and hopes for new beginnings.

So why had neither of them brought it up again? A hush hushness that felt like a tacit endorsement of the status quo.

Not that their status quo was bad. It was pretty great, actually. Delightful, even. Her very own New Year's wish come true. He made her see and experience things in a different light. Stirred parts of her she'd forgotten, neglected. A maroon toothbrush camped in a plastic cup on her bathroom shelf, a box of Kotex had made its way to his. It was good and joyful, what they had.

The question prodded anew. Why the hell were they carrying on as if nothing had happened?

Typewriters clacking, she and Patricia chatted over the hammering of keys. "Does he want to move in with you?" Patricia asked, focus fixed on fluttering paper. "Is he that kind of guy?"

"Well." A bell announced the end of Y/N's typing line. She grabbed the wite-out to correct a p to an o. "He didn't say yes or no. He didn't say anything, really. But judging from how he kissed me, I can safely say he wouldn't mind."

"That good, huh?"

"I can still feel it in my toes."

Matt called from the office behind her. "Hearing that you have a personal life is going to be an adjustment."

Y/N rolled, swiveled to peek past the doorframe. "You're welcome to shut your door," she teased.

Her boss had a point, though. While she'd related her professional background, chatted about television shows and local news, the personal was a hand she kept close to her chest. Only recently had she disclosed to Patricia - a woman she considered her best friend - the surface of what she'd gone through with her father back in Missouri.

There wasn't much to discuss, anyway. Life was simple. She worked and got a bite to eat. Read the paper and stopped at magazine stands. Walked city parks and browsed the shops once or twice a week. A lovely, mundane life made whole by finally being where and who she was meant to be.

And now she had someone in that life whom she ached to be with every day. Who made her want to stretch into new interests, who asked her to share her own, unexpected treasures at her age. How on earth could she keep all that inside?

Crossing the room to sit on Patricia's desk, Y/N described the rarities. "Take comedy," she began. "I like the late shows as much as anyone else, or a funny movie once in a while. Beyond that?" A dismissive wave. "But I love Arthur's passion for it, learning from him, hearing his jokes. It's like when he puts on music I haven't listened to before."

"What's he like?" Patricia sipped her coffee, reclined in her leather chair.

"The classics."

"The Supremes? Elvis?"

"More like Frank Sinatra and Fred Astaire."

Patricia squinted. "How old did you say he was?"

"He's younger than all of us but his heart's antique."

"You really are in love."

Tucking her bottom lip, Y/N grinned until her cheeks smarted. "Yeah. Yeah, I am."

"Y/N, take my advice," Matt said, now in the doorway. "Men aren't like women."

Hand on hip, she caught Patricia's Here We Go gaze, then angled her own on Matt. "Is that so?"

"Women tend to talk too much. Men don't need all those discussions. We want to just...do." The man lumbered closer - the same man who groveled to his ex-wife every other week. He brought his palms together as if delivering a final argument, trying to convince a jury to render a guilty plea. "Let him do. What comes comes. You're a bright woman. It'll work out."

As poorly expressed as Matt's thesis was (and the behind the scenes it explained), her gut told her he'd gotten that last sentence right. After a moment, Y/N bobbed her chin in appreciation. He gave a dumb, pleased little wave and retreated to his office.

Patricia's unforgiving elbow jabbed her thigh. "Get back to your desk before he opens his mouth again."

~~~~~

Arthur itched to talk about it. Truly. Cross his heart, hope to die, needle in the eye and all that.

At the grocery store the other night, he'd felt brave enough. Strolling the aisles, filling their respective baskets, holding hands between picking products. Seltzer and marked down Christmas TV dinners for him, a popular brand of tea and World Tour Swanson's for her.

He'd repeated the opening in his head a hundred times, scrawled it in his journal a thousand more. In the shadow of a grand, football shaped display of potato chips, he'd watched her. (Was the amount of time he watched her when they were together creepy? He didn't want to be creepy. He wanted to be a man in love.) She'd studied a bag. He'd gripped his basket tighter.

"I wanted to ask you..." Arthur's breath ran out.

Y/N put the bag in her basket, next to a carton of eggs. "Yes?"

"Um." The bravery he'd been so confident of threatened to run out, too. He'd shrugged, forced himself to smile, his tongue in armed revolt against his brain. "How your pretzels were?"

She'd stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. Which of course he had. "How my pretzels were?"

"Yeah." He'd slid closer to hide his screw up, body language smoother than spoken. Act casual. "The ones you bought for New Year’s." He'd managed to name the day, a split hair's breadth from success! "The mustard kind?"

One slow blink. "Honey mustard. They were good. Did you want some?" She'd reached towards the display.

"No," he'd said, a bit too fast.

"All right."

Five weird seconds that stretched like five hours. Arthur prayed he'd turn invisible so he could flee. A hiccup, a conscious effort to constrict his throat, hold his breath against a laugh.

An easy arm had curled around the crook of his elbow, led them to the checkout. "I have some left. You're welcome to them," she'd said. His diaphragm had calmed to a quiet cough.

Perhaps he could broach the subject tonight. That was the plan, anyway, as he jaunted down the concrete stairs. In his hurry to get to Y/N, he'd forgotten his hat and mittens, an oversight sure to perturb her. The wintry mix of snow and rain turned the light waves of his hair to curls, his lips frigid as a Frigidaire. Shivering, he pulled his tan hood over his head, yanked the strings tight.

He could do this. He just had to put his mind to it. After all, if they hadn't exchanged keys it was still a hypothetical, which meant it was still safe.

Not that she wasn't a safe haven. She was the one who'd taught him what safe haven meant. But there was a lot to consider beyond eternal bliss.

She'd bought movie tickets last Tuesday, insisted on paying for dinner Thursday, offered an evening casserole and wine after she'd seen the receipt for his new insomnia medication. He'd cursed himself for leaving it on the counter and declined. Poverty was the usual and he was used to it. Now it pricked like a bushel of thorns.

A couple days ago, he'd met Dr. Ludlow, an appointment made after Christmas, after a long talk with Y/N. (Though she'd made no such hints, he suspected that committing to treatment was necessary for her to fully commit to him.) The introductory session had consisted of rehashing every diagnosis, histories he'd rather forget. Dr. Ludlow was nice and all, made him comfortable, appeared willing to listen. No hard candies but he could smoke to his heart's content. When he'd wanted to schedule another appointment, he'd pushed out a bashful request for some type of payment plan.

"The first few sessions are taken care of." She'd smiled at him like she was delivering good news. "That should take you through March, then we can go from there."

Hovering at the doctor's desk, he'd found himself unable to move. That act of generosity was an island's leap from free chicken parmesan. He was at once deeply moved - and deeply unsettled.

Was it possible to be both the Man of the House and a financial burden at once?

Maybe. Maybe not. Probably maybe not.

Probably maybe he should slam the brakes on this train of thought. Shaking those notions off, he knocked on Y/N's door.

"Where is your hat?" Wifely exasperation right on cue. Chilled cheeks burned crimson at the association. He kissed her full lips but she retreated, wincing. "You're freezing. We need to warm you up. You should take a-"

"Bath. I will." He'd showered that morning, but he wouldn't argue. It'd be hard to enjoy himself as a popsicle. Unzipping, unbuttoning, he started towards the bathroom, dripping across the carpet.

~~~~~

Laundry folded and put away, Arthur's clothes draped over the radiator (his socks and briefs had somehow stayed dry), Y/N busied herself with the Gotham Journal. Thomas Wayne's mayoral bid continued to stomp across the front page, another article reported Brezhnev's latest threats. An ad for canned diced tomatoes featured a recipe for Mediterranean stuffed peppers. She dog-eared that page for later.

At a quarter to eight, she folded the paper on her lap and looked towards the bathroom door. Light spilled beneath it, the sound of a couple soft splashes. There was no sign it would open soon, and she was growing eager. Ready to reclaim last week's courage, she set off to retrieve her bathrobe.

Just as she was about to knock, a muffled hum halted her hand. Low, baritone, a caress to the ear. She pressed her frame closer to the wood. Rasped syllables between bars, a pitch that stuck to the back of the throat at higher notes. Though the song was unknown to her, she guessed it was the kind of old romantic tune that'd made her gush to Patricia.

It was adorable, her boyfriend serenading himself in the tub, and she adored him for it. Her younger self had assumed passion would lose its wonder as she grayed and wrinkled. Yet, she found she wasn't much different from that girl back in Boonville. The love she had for Arthur felt as fresh as new beginnings.

When he spent the night, he usually let her sleep until her alarm. But there were times she'd wake to his face buried in the nape of her neck, his stubble rough between her shoulders. Arm tight at her waist, fingers splayed on her abdomen. On those mornings she couldn't bear to move. Perfect moments she wanted to live in forever.

A glow sparked within her, propelled her forward. She knocked but didn't wait for a reply. "You can use this, if you'd like," she said, indicating the robe, cutting through the muggy air. "It shouldn't be too snug. I bought a couple sizes too big." She laid it on the closed toilet and turned to face him.

A navy blue washcloth drifted through the water, a bar of Ivory soap floated on the surface. Arthur sat straight as a fence, penis and hands tucked firmly between his thighs, which flexed in an uneven rhythm.

She floundered for a moment. Had his mother walked in on him like this? In the middle of getting dressed or washing up, a grown man without privacy? Had she just been as inconsiderate as Penny?

Y/N's nose wrinkled. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I'll go put the kettle on."

A shake of the head told her not to worry. "No, it's all right." His pale green glance was earnest, flashed with a shimmer that might have been hope. A muscle twitched along his jaw, the corners of his lips folded inward. Brown waves tumbled forward, knotted from the wet cold.

She ventured a pace towards him. "Would you like me to wash your hair?" Not long ago, he'd mentioned he always cut it himself, hadn't ever had the salon experience.

Dark brows lifted as he processed the request. "You don't have to."

"I'd love to," she said, perching on the tub's rim. "It's my favorite part of getting my hair done. Nothing washes away a trying day quite like it."

Whenever she suggested touching him in a new way, it didn't take much convincing. Tonight was no different. He dunked under the water immediately. Rivulets sculpted cutting cheekbones, drops fell from the rounded tip of his nose.

Sleeves rolled to her elbows and a dollop of shampoo in her palm, she laced her fingers through not yet silky locks. A stubborn tangle caught her left thumbnail. She stood for better leverage, working through his chestnut mop, now dark as velvet winter skies. The lather thickened with each stroke.

"Does that feel good?" she asked.

Not unlike his earlier singing, he hummed. "Mmm."

Sleet pinged the nearby window. She raked her nails along his scalp. "When we took a bath at your place, you said you were thinking about the future." A safe a way to breach the conversation, a lovely memory for them both. The night he'd confessed he loved her.

"Yeah. One with you." He rested in the curved end of the tub. "I've been thinking about what you said. About living together."

Her pulse skipped into next week. "Does that mean you want to?"

"No. I mean- I dunno. I like the idea, but I- I don't have a lot of money. My apartment's expensive, Penny's stuff is everywhere, and...I haven't lived anywhere else. Your apartment's newer. And I know you hate the cigarette smell at mine."

That was a fact she couldn't deny. She hadn't complained, having no desire to hurt him. But given that she didn't allow smoking anywhere besides the fire escape, it wasn't hard to deduce. Kneading slowed to a languid massage. She cleared relief from her throat, relief their relationship wasn't the cause of his hesitation. "This one's about the same age, just remodeled. And your place is spacious compared to some of the apartments I've seen." Her mind flashed to Mrs. McPhee's, the kitchen, living, and dining rooms combined into one ten by ten coop.

The pad of her thumb followed his strong brow. "I've been meaning to ask you something." Her hand snuck past his shoulder, traced droplets on his pectoral, dipped beneath the water's surface. "Were you always this thin?"

He frowned, tensed beneath her touch. "I thought you liked it."

"I do, I do. It's just that you have a bit of a love handle. Righhht...here." A pinch to his squishy flank, tickles to his ribs.

Sudden giggles, laughter that sounded ten years younger. He splashed her with a flick of the wrist, streaks of lilac sweater darkening to violet. "I lost weight when I started my medication. My mother used to say-" he raised his voice an octave here "'-You need to eat. Look at how skinny you are.'" A roll of the eyes, his whole head. "I guess that doesn't matter anymore."

"It doesn't have to," Y/N said. Then she scoffed at herself, at the hypocrisy of confirming he could let go of the past when hers continued to bleed at the edges. Before he could assume the scoff was at him, she added, "Maybe living here would help with that." He made no response.

Bending closer, she gathered his hair at the nape of his neck, wrung out lather. Suds slipped down her forearms. Automatically, he relaxed into her, curls clinging to her fingertips. Conversation ceased. She was unaware of the nearness of her breasts to his face.

A whispered trail on the seam of her sweater. Along her abdomen, across her stomach, up, up, up. He cupped her breast, cradled her as if she was a mirage. Wetness seeped through the acrylic. Her motions halted. The humidity of the room thickened to a pleasant fog.

Arthur's Adam's apple bobbed, his gaze darted to hers. "I don't want sex."

Careful to keep shampoo out of his eyes, she smoothed stray strands from his forehead. "You can touch me whenever you want, wherever you want. With or without sex." She nudged the tip of his nose with hers. "I want you to touch me every day. That's how you'll get used to it."

Reservation melted into an easy smile, tinged with a bashful pride. Akin to a suitor recalling how well he'd done on a date. Moving to catch her chin, he admired the handprint on her shirt and stole a kiss.

Her toes curled anew. And in the corner of her eye, so did his.

~~~~~

After handing him a fresh towel, Y/N left to change. An oversized sweatshirt would do, a faded sage green. With its hem at her hips, she decided to forego pants in favor of pale pink middle-aged panties. A choice for candid familiarity.

As she poured honey mustard pretzels in a wooden bowl, filled the tea kettle with water, Arthur shuffled through the living room. He flipped through her meager record collection, about ten LPs in total. The console stereo remained shut.

"There's nothing romantic in here," he said.

"I have a feeling Al Green would disagree." She'd played Let's Stay Together often as of late, a soundtrack to dusting and dishes, lines and lyrics bringing Arthur to mind.

The radio sprang to life, the GCR nightly news hour. Buzzing, static, the squeal of an out of key jingle. Finally, he reached his goal. Warm strings, a plaintive timbre.

"What station is this?" she asked. Bumping into Sinatra the evening he'd come for dinner had been pure luck.

"GPR. They play oldies Tuesday and Thursday nights and Sunday mornings." He sidled up beside her, robe cinched tight at the waist, chest peeking out from the white terrycloth. Soft notes continued while they waited for the water to boil. Quiet, lovely companionship in this basic task.

When she filled the mugs, the collar of her sweatshirt fell down her shoulder. A moment, two, and he put his arm about her. His thumb ventured to her collarbone. Tapping, settling into a comfortable caress. She jutted her hip against him.

He gave her a squeeze. "When you were a little girl, what did you dream about? What future did you want?"

Both hands cupping her mug, she put her elbows on the counter. In truth, that was hard to conjure. Married at seventeen, college four months later, degree at twenty-two. Childhood dreams had remained distant since - well, since she was a little girl. Not that she regretted that history. It'd simply resulted in practicality instead of preoccupation.

And the prior decade of distress had done a pretty thorough job of grinding down whatever parts of her could still imagine in that way. Even with the medication she'd taken towards the end. She'd lived moment to moment, survived hour to hour for so long. Thinking of it reminded her of all she'd lost, when it should've reminded her of all she'd gained. It irked her, how small it made her feel, small enough to rival a camel going through the eye of a needle.

But Arthur wasn't aware of the rusty gears and cranks of her past. He deserved an answer.

"I wanted to grow up, but I wanted life to stay the same. Does that make sense?" She blew ripples across chamomile. "I had a good childhood. I was lucky. My parents were supportive and proud. My sister was my best friend, even when she annoyed the hell out of me. I wanted to keep those things, like a photograph that wouldn't fade. But I also wished for a career, to make a home with the man I loved. I didn't understand what that kind of love was, not yet. But I saw what my parents had and wanted my own happily ever after." A soreness threatened her vocal cords, for theirs had been cut short. She sipped it away. "What about you?"

The answer came quickly, as if he'd been waiting to be asked his whole life. "Meeting my dad." He dunked his cinnamon teabag, his strong brow weakening. "I always wondered what I did to make him leave."

Heat enveloped her neck. "You didn't do anything, Arthur. You didn't do anything. He's the one who missed out, not you." A rash response, one that wouldn't heal his wounds. But a salve she hoped would soothe - and what she believed.

He wound the teabag's string through the mug's handle. The corner of his mouth curved, a subtle nod of the head. The hand on her shoulder drew a line down her arm to entwine their fingers. Turning her towards him, he grasped her hip.

From the tender light in his eyes, it was plain where this was headed. And she hadn't had any wine to help her get over herself. Her palm pressed his sternum in a halfhearted attempt to save her dignity. "We've done this once."

Their clasped hands were now at shoulder height. "Not enough," he said.

"You haven't had a chance to see how bad I am at this."

"We just have to practice."

"But I can't hear when to step," she said, and shifted foot to foot.

"Didn't you enjoy it the first time?"

She weakened in his arms, her protestations dissolving in her throat. "I loved it."

"Then let me lead. You don't have to all the time." The warmth of his blinding smile echoed in his gentle instruction. Touch firm but tender, his fingers splayed on the small of her back. "If we live together, I'll want you to dance with me every day. That’s how you'll get used to it."

She chuckled, laid her head on his shoulder. The fresh scent of soap rolled off him. She nestled deeper for another whiff. On a sigh, she pressed a lingering kiss to his neck. "Make sure to hold me to that.”

~~~~~

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#arthur fleck #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x ofc #joker 2019 #arthur fleck x female reader #watchwhathappens

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