waltz for one

I think older men are attractive but if one of them ever gave me the green light I’d just

Originally posted by yourreactiongifs


Harry Potter Universe: One subject/job One new (fan)casting for a New Magic Era ½ || Kristin Scott Thomas, Kyle MacLachlan, Michelle Fairley, Ian McShane, Charles Dance, Caitriona Balfe, Ben Kingsley, Geoffrey Rush, Robin Wright, Diane Keaton, Annabelle Wallis, Christoph Waltz.

Like Before • Jeff Atkins

Jeff Atkins x Reader

Prompt: You and Jeff were prone to breaking up and making up throughout your three and a half year relationship. This time, however, you knew it was different unlike the others; but you refused to let this be the end of you two, and you’d be damned if you were going to let Jeff Atkins walk away with your heart clenched in his hands.

Warnings: A broken heart and a cute Jeff Atkins.

3,010 words x

Keep reading

My problem isn’t that my favorite characters aren’t real,it’s that I’m not fictional; I don’t want them to be real. What I despratly wish is that I could be fictional with them. It’s not that I want them here with me in this mundane, ordinary world it’s that I want to join them in their extraordinary one…

Waltz Op. 69, No. 2 was composed by Frédéric Chopin for solo piano in the year 1829, although published posthumously. The main theme is in the key of B minor and is marked with an overall tempo of Moderato. It is one of several works that the composer hoped would be burnt upon his death.

The piece is largely melancholic and changes to B major and again reverts to the original theme. It is not technically demanding and is one of Chopin’s better known pieces.

Performer:Vladimir Ashkenazy, he performs this Chopin waltz the best i think.

This waltz is one of my favorites.Elegant and Beautiful.

1. Send thank you notes

2. Practice good posture

3. Speak more softly

4. Listen without interrupting

5. Wear solid colours

6. Ignore fads, or use them sparingly

7. Have a signature wine that you serve at home

8. Wear only 2-3 accessories

9. Have impeccable manners

10. Read on a variety of topics

11. Maintain a budget

12. Study the arts

13. Have one signature perfume/cologne

14. Show restraint in expressing anger

15. Learn the art of conversation

16. Learn French

17. Wear a trench coat

18. Learn how to wear a scarf

19. Wear a tuxedo, when one is called for

20. Practice quality over quantity

21. Don’t yell or scream

22. Learn to dance the waltz

23. Have one fabulous signature meal you serve guests

24. Remember birthdays

25. Go on picnics

26. Wear dresses/suits more often, and on dates

27. Simplify your life, your home and your calendar

28. Wear pearls

29. Men, Open the door for ladies

30. Ladies, et him open the door for you

31. Remember that it’s more important to be kind than it is to be right

32. Serve coffee or tea after meals

33. Arrive exactly on time

34. Don’t complain

35. Dress to travel

36. Be well travelled

37. If you’re a woman, don’t wear black shoes between Memorial Day and Labor Day…wear spectator pumps instead

38. Keep your home clean and uncluttered

39. When guests stay over, put a small pitcher and glass for water on their nightstand, along with a book they might enjoy

40. Learn how to host a small dinner party

41. Have one subdued solid colour scheme throughout your home, use accessories to add colour

42. Learn how to make the perfect martini

43. Learn how to tie both a regular tie and a bow tie (whether you’re a man or a woman)

44. Be a lady or a gentleman at work, especially when delivering a difficult message or when tempers flare

45. Wear lovely/handsome hats

46. Don’t point out the mistakes of others

47. Wait your turn patiently

48. Don’t curse

49. Chew each bite 20 times

50. Sip your drink

51. Learn proper etiquette for all situations

52. Accept compliments graciously

53. Be quietly self confident

54. Don’t boast

55. Be respectful of others

56. Have fresh flowers in your home

57. Write a letter rather than send an email to those you love

58. Keep your nails well manicured

59. Maintain your shoes and clothing

60. Don’t ever lose your joie de vivre

61. Be well groomed

62. Remember that money does not equal elegance, nor is it necessary to be elegant

63. Wear less make-up

64. Wear well-fitting clothes

65. Spray lavender on your sheets

66. Be positive

67. Learn to politely say no

68. Be concerned with making others feel comfortable

69. Maintain good health

70. Don’t overindulge

71. Hold yourself to high standards

72. Turn your mobile off at dinner

73. Wear simple, classic hairstyles

74. Think before you speak or act. Ask yourself, can anything good come from this?

75. Apoligize sincerely

76. Have integrity

77. Don’t speak ill of others, or gossip

78. Always take a gift to your host or hostess

79. Tie a scarf on your handbag

80. Take a clutch in the evening

81. Wear well fitting jeans with either a long sleeve white shirt or solid sweater for more casual events

82. Only wear sneakers for exercise

83. Use white sheets, white towels, white dishes

84. Be sure your clothes are pressed

85. Your car’s horn should say “pardon me, but do you see me?”, rather than “get out of my way!”

86. Overdo empathy

87. Light candles in your home

88. Go for walks in the park on Sunday

89. Give others sincere compliments

90. Understand your own worth

91. Learn how to open a bottle of champagne

92. Dress appropriately for the occasion

93. Do small favours for others, without expecting anything in return

94. Say please and thank you

95. Take the time to stop and listen to others, especially children

96. Take responsibility for yourself and your own happiness

97. Keep a journal

98. Give thoughtful gifts, rather than expensive ones

99. Less is more

100. Savour the moment

—  100 Ways to be Elegant by me (via pearlsandcurlsandpreppygirls)

anonymous asked:

Person a tripping in the street and person b whomst is a stranger to them catches them and accidentally dips them ( like the dance thing u know)

Justin Oluransi likes to walk, and being in this city so far has been nothing but walking.

Walking from the subway to the hotel to the pharmacy back to the hotel, then to the hospital in the morning for his interview and from there to the deli for an early lunch then back to the hotel and then just - out to explore midtown.

New York City is all. walking. all. the. time. And it’s beautiful clear weather on a breezy spring midmorning.

He loves it.

It’s like a dance, weaving between the many pedestrians, pausing for cars in the street but not waiting for the signal to turn green, picking up the pace to get away from the creepy dude following too closely, and then slowing down to enjoy the atmosphere - suddenly halting to catch his breath when he turns a corner and sees the Empire State Building.

What a sight, what a rush, what a thrill! The only thing missing would be a -


A man bumps into him from behind so hard he’s twisted around and Justin’s glad he’s got quick reflexes because otherwise the man would have hit the concrete with the back of his head.

Instead, Justin has an arm under his shoulders and the other hand gripping the man’s waist tight to keep him cradled against his chest.

Wide green eyes stare up at him, and for a moment Justin can’t think. Those eyes are mesmerizing - they’re beautiful, soft, sweet. Justin’s lost in them.

It takes a moment for him to register that the other man’s hands are both gripping his arm tight, fingers digging into the light fabric of his favorite salmon hoodie, and he realizes he should help the man back to his feet.

“Sorry,” Justin says, pulling him into an upright position and letting his hands linger on the other man’s biceps for a moment to make sure he can support his own weight just fine.

“Chyeah, no, please, I’m sorry, I just, uh -” The other man is fumbling for words, running his hands over himself and then reaching up to right the cap on his head. “My legs don’t always send letters of intent to my brain, so sometimes my body wants to keep a pace and my legs just like - bolt for no apparent reason and I tumble over myself like a newborn fawn and it’s not - uh..”

He finally looks up and meets Justin’s gaze and for a moment Justin thinks he might lose himself in those beautiful eyes again, but the other man seems to suddenly regain control of himself upon catching sight of him. He straightens and stands taller, pulling at the hem of his t-shirt and licking his lips.

Justin does,, not follow the movement. Nope.

The other man clears his throat. “That wasn’t very chill of me.”

Justin laughs and the other man smiles softly in response.

“That’s ok,” Justin says. And then, because this man is really beautiful and Justin has never passed up an opportunity to flirt with beautiful people, he says “I was just thinking about how walking around here is like dancing, and then you waltzed into my arms for one heck of a grand finale.”

That gets a surprised laugh and a hint of a blush creeping on his cheeks, Justin can tell.

God, this man is beautiful.

“I’m Justin,” he says, extending his hand forward.

“Derek,” the other man - Derek - says.

When their palms meet Justin has to will himself not to stare at the way they fit in each other so well, or how they look clasped like that, or how long Derek’s fingers are.

“So uh,” Derek says, pulling his hand away but letting his fingers trail along Justin’s just slightly. “You pick up dance partners on 6th Av often?”

“Shit, is that the street this is? I thought I was on Broadway?”

He has to look around for a second, because if he got lost he has no idea how he’s gonna get back to the hotel and he cant handle being lost right now.

But Derek’s easy laugh flows over him, as does his gentle touch on his shoulder to draw Justin’s attention back to him.

“Yeah, Broadway’s right here. It just intersects here, see.” He’s pointing out all the street signs around them. “You probably just walked one block this way without realizing.”

“God, I’m such a tourist.”

Derek laughs again, and Justin loves how it sounds. “That’s alright, so’s everyone else.”

“You’re not from here either?”

“Oh no, I was born and raised on the Upper East Side. But everyone’s a tourist in this city bro, even the locals. Tourism is a state of mind.”

Justin lets that hover in the air for a moment. He watches Derek’s face and the way he seems so much more collected now, so much more in control and - chill.

“I’d love to have a five hour conversation with you about that one sentence.”

“No shit?”

“No shit.” Justin revels in the curious look adorning Derek’s face and asks “Where can we get coffee and talk into the sunset?”

Derek smirks and Justin can feel in his bones that he is not going to make the flight home tonight.

But that’s ok, maybe he won’t go home. Maybe he’ll stay in this city, take that position at the hospital, and maybe… maybe he’ll have Derek show him around in the meantime.

The wilting of a rose pt 1


Pairing: Jungkook / Reader / Jimin

Genre: Angst, fluff.

Summary: The simple joy of being with the one you care for, at such a young age; left to scatter over the floor in the ruins of a torn past. And it has always been asked, why does the worst things happen to the best of people?

Word count: 7,724

Note: First part of my collab with the lovely @lushguk, I hope you enjoy this series as much as we don’t do ;) You can find the collection here and Mel’s masterlist here

 Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

The tress whispered as a gentle breeze passed through their branches, great drapes of leaves billowing like a handkerchief flying in farewell, the sight comforting; after all said destination was frequent through his childhood and now teen years- and Jungkook was sure if someone were to play his life out before them, the green blur of trees and hushed grins would be more than common between the inked words of his memories. It was one of his most sacred places, an area of innocence that he kept close and dear to him, not only because it bought some kind of peace to his youthful mind, but also because the ground practically heaved with memories forged with gruelling care. True, the walk was long to the clearing, cruel to even the most experienced of travellers, and yet he happily pushed through the tension and pain in his legs if it meant getting away from the bustle and chatter of the village for a few blissful hours. Moss was soft from the log that his thigh was thrown over, cushioning the pull of muscle that jumped in defeated exhaustion every so often and sent pin pricks of heat over his weary flesh. Sun worn eyes gazed blearily over the crack of light that filtered through the plush of trees in colourful patches, the curve of his skull supported into the shallow cradle of his entwined palms as he lazily tipped his head back. 

Light breaths edged past the seam of his lips serenely, sighs pooling above him in the warm air, the dark fringe of his lashes fluttering across the high of his cheek bone in peace. The heat that had seemed to send his body into a fluster as he had struggled up the slope of the clearing was now soothing; treading the line between cool and warm in the delicious hue of the evening. And it was all Jungkook could manage not to fall asleep, motion born weariness bringing it’s arms around him to pull him into a delicious comfort that crept through his bones and tugged insistently behind his eyes as he fought to keep them open. Yet, just as he was surrendering and letting his vision rotate dangerously from the heavy tilt of his neck, a small sound broke him out of his reverie. Gentle and muffled, it slipped it’s small fingers around his own and, paired with a voice that practically sung the colours of the evening, it was enough to pull a lazy smile to the curve of his mouth and let his eyes squint back open. 

“Jungkook?” And his gaze was greeted by the lovely image of your face bathed in the giddy happiness of the mellow sun. Beautiful in it’s dying embers. 

A hum of acknowledgement sent small rocks of pressure over the skin of his throat, making the swell bob as he waited your reply with barely tamed excitement. Because it was at this time that Jungkook was sure he loved you the most, when you were crouched in the embrace of the setting rays, a thoughtful expression etched into your young visage and the words pouring thickly from the curious depths of your soul. Watching you indulge in the deeper side of yourself was always something of a privilege, the hope you held for the world so contagious it was hard not to see everything through that film of vision. With a soft puff of air, you were landing beside him, legs folding over his calves with a gentle nudge so that your temple could tuck beneath his chin and your breath laving shivers from the dent of his shoulders to the base of his spine. Platonic, he reminded himself with well trained ease, you were nothing more than friends. 

“Do you ever think that maybe there’s something more than this?” you began, the habitual fall and rise of your voice settling into the baked earth like deep carvings, sending a quiver of happiness through him as you ran hesitant eyes over your thoughts that would soon be exposed to his welcoming judgement.

The ridge of his brows met as he mulled over your words, tongue dragging over the inside of his mouth as he considered the meaning behind your breathy question, “What? Like after death? Because maybe, I’m not sure.”

Quick to deny it, your hair bobbed from the shaking of your head and a little concerned huff was making itself present in the small space between you, “No, no, not like the afterlife, more like… um, I don’t know, have you ever just felt.. connected to someone, like your supposed to be near them?”

Jungkook trained his eyes on the endearing way you fiddled with a loose thread from his tunic, the way your heartbeat thundered slowly against his stomach and the line of your body shuffled so close to his own. “Yes,” he whispered, words saturated in a tenderness he could only hope you missed, “I do believe that.”

With eyes that practically begged for reassurance you were angling your head towards his own, so close that your nose brushed his own and your breath warmed a path over his cheekbones when you spoke, “Even if you haven’t ever met, or even seen them?”

Staring back at your beseeching gaze, Jungkook sucked his lip into his mouth and let his teeth catch at the loose ends until the swell of plump skin was pink and irritated under his worry, eyes warming as he dove further into the enigma you hid behind the light of your irises “What do you mean?”

For a moment or two it looked as if you wanted to say more, lips parting under the pretence of explanation, eyes wide and scared, but then, as though something had occurred so you, your shoulders were rolling back into a shrug and your mouth was curling in a bashful smile. The light died out, fizzling as your hand fought to cup out it’s beacon of desperate knowledge. Gone as fast as it could arrive.

“It doesn’t matter.”

There were things that Jungkook wanted to say, to pull to your attention and coax you back into your train of thought to satiate the curiosity you had nurtured in the back of his mind. But warm fingers were fast to swipe over the plane of his chest as you rolled onto your side, relaxed giggle wiping away any questions left in his mind from your open ended statement; you had always been the one to divert away from your problems and gods only knew he was weak in the face of you affection. So he pushed away the doubt that clawed anxiously at the back of his consciousness, choosing instead to smother you under the bend of his arm, just the way he knew you liked it due to the amount of times you had begged for him to hold you when you had been edging along the line of your younger years. Ah, the image of you tugging at his sleeve, eyes wide and watery would forever be etched into his mind- the lisp that clung to the syllables of his name when you whined after him still enough to raise the hairs on the back of his neck and pull fondness hot and heavy into his cheeks. You had been such a cute kid, not that you weren’t now, but there was something so nostalgic about the friendship and infatuation he had held for you when he had himself had been little older than six years old. At that age it was almost monotone how the seasons stretched out;  growing up in such a small village it was inevitable that many of the same generation would know each other and, due to the nonavailability of travel, it was normal that small groups of children would band together in close companionship. It was normal, almost expected that these youths would hang together, and as much as he hated to admit it, there was something so companionable about that singular solidarity. And a part of Jungkook couldn’t help but think that maybe his parents had expected him to do that, urging him out of the door with ease under the belief that he would simply waltz up to one of the neighbours, stick out his hand and be whisked away into a bonding experience. But, sadly, that was not the case. 

At even such a youthful age, when he should be humming with eager bliss that would drive him out to beseech the friendship of those around him, Jungkook had been painfully useless at interacting with his peers, and spent most of his time holed up in a tree, sulking on his own as the shrieks of joy sounded like a mocking reminder below him. It wasn’t long before he had been labelled a loner, cloud hanging over his head like a tag that would warn people off- awkward posture and knocking knees doing nothing more than further encouraging the assumptions. But then, as a desperate last move, his parents had reached out to their old friends who live merely minutes away, complaining hotly about their antisocial son and delighting when the couple had struck forward the offer to introduce their equally as troublesome child: you. Quiet and shy, you had been an almost perfect match for him, never screaming or fussing to a point that he had been shying away, but never silent enough to let the conversation trail off- you had been something of a blessing.  

Of course at first it had been awkward- you had been adamant with hiding behind the walls of your house when he had first approached, and had favoured panicking if he so much as looked in your direction to any actual conversations. However even then he had been aware that you were different; maybe it had been the spark of compassion that flared below your lids or maybe it was the twitch of your mouth as you struggled to keep a smile at bay, but Jungkook was sure that you were hiding something addicting behind the frail fame of your stature and loosely braided hair, and he was happy to brave the stormy path of your introductions with a smile on his face. And, eventually, he had been rewarded for his patience a few moons later, in the form of you sliding around to his side, bright eyes watching with fascination and making sweet comments as he skipped rocks in the pond or scratched marking into the stone with the bunt blade he had stolen from his mother’s skirts sending a thrill of pride and joy that left his tiny heart beating at a hummingbird’s pace. And it was when he had been moving onto carving sticks and cracking boulders that you had taken the friendship into your own hands, completely blooming into yourself under a newfound comfort between you both that, in turn, coaxed him out of his shell to stand beside you in the bright landscape of companionship. It was almost unsettling how easily you changed, abandoning your awkward shy persona, who’s memory hung behind you in misfitting robes, to a force that practically glowed with happiness around him. You intoxicated him, the curl of your eyes when you smiled, the blush that trimmed over your cheeks in embarrassment, and the way the sun burnt the shades of your hair into a mass of molten gold all were like sacred. Every moment was spent in the embrace of your company, your voice following him like a shadow even when you stayed miles away from him, and truly it was just how he liked it. 

And what existed between you both had only grown, blossoming under the care and time you put into it, afternoons spent skipping stones by the creek and the sweet nights spent curled around each other, hushed giggles caught between your body and the dark building up the great heights of your bond. Though, like everything in this world, it wasn’t long before change was catching up with you, altering the canvas of your world in what seemed a blink of an eye. The years spent in his childhood was quick to flee away, falling through his fingers like fine sand until all that remained in his grasp was you; joining him as you stood in to the new world of your mature age with mirror hesitance and unquenchable curiosity. Here so many more hours were spent discovering each other, rebellions shared through journeys into the forest near the village that left you both panting with exertion and shimmering in joy to sneaking out late at night to crawl under the stars as Jungkook watched universes be born through the life in your eyes, hands clasped in together as you ran away from the responsibilities that crawled the path behind your rapidly moving feet. The time that had tied you together through the expanse of your upbringing had erased any boundaries between Jungkook and you, lines in the sand being wiped away in favour for the the comfort that came with being with someone that knew him more than he knew himself. Someone who knew exactly what to do to calm the flare of his rage or soothe the heavy burdens of worry that carved into the deep set of his shoulders with a soft touch or a gentle word. It was perfect like this; you were the dearest of companions and he basked in the promise of you staying by his side through the brief flash of his life. It should’ve been enough, and yet it wasn’t- it never was; and he wanted more. 

“Hello, Jungkook?” He was pulled away from the traitorous nature of his wandering thoughts by the sight of your hand wiping over his vision and the chuckle clutching onto your drawn out words as you peered at him from the space that fitted next to his side. Eyes shone with fondness as your lips pulled taut to let the edge of your teeth peek onto your bottom lip as you fought to hold back the laughter that bubbled into your chest at the seemingly lost look on the boy’s face. The light that dappled though the leaves cast a myriad of hues cast though your skin and the gentle flush that cut into the swell of your cheeks almost glowing in the warm haze of the evening air. For not the first time he was taken aback by your beauty, eyes unfocused as he roamed greedily over your features and fingers twitching with the urge to pull you closer. Down to the very last detail, your face was sculpted to be worshipped through the biased lens he had forged with his own two hands; the gentle curve of your fingers meant to be cradled in between larger palms, the sharp thoughts you had made to be encouraged and the seam of your lips to be kissed like only the gods knew he wanted to.

“Jungkook!” You were laughing properly now, snorts filling the air like smoke until he was drowning in your mirth and the weight in his chest was sinking with a newfound speed as you rolled onto your stomach and let out more blissful noises to the thick canopy of trees above you sprawling figures that watched over both of you with aged wisdom. Scoffs slipped through the rise and fall of your chest as tears dried in salt trials along the corners of your eyes, the image of his gaping mouth and glazed eyes amusing you to no end. When you finally calmed, and silence was treading back down like a lost friend, you were huddling closer to your side, finger running laps over his cheekbone as you spoke.

“Where do you go?” Curiosity dripped from you tongue, eyes soft and wide as you regarded him, the constant enthralment you bestowed onto him as addicting as you honeyed toned voice, “When you zone out like that…where do you go?”

The muscles in Jungkook’s shoulders complained bitterly as he shrugged, thoughtful hum leaving his lip to bleed into the stationary air, “I don’t know…I don’t really go anywhere, here seems pretty good enough for me.”

A bashful grin broke over your face like the sun beaming over dawn, your cheeks creasing and folding as a flush coloured your cheeks. Your shoulders caved in to each other, body curling into a writhing tight throng as you giggled, voice smoother than the tones of the birds song in the undergrowth. Graciously, your palms, which pressed over your eyes in faux shyness that he knew didn’t exist, covered the sight of his smug smirk that warmed under the force of your antics. “Oh gods Kook,” you were spluttering moments later, peeking through a gap between you digits to grimace, the way your bottom lip trembled betraying your true emotions, “don’t say things like that; I swear, you’ll be the death of me.”

His chuckle in response was the only shade that spread throughout the chilling air, washing across the open space like paint running into the creases of a canvas as the sun’s fading light dripped into the cracking earth to make way for the darkness that embraced the land. As lovely as it was to lie with you in the running golden rays, there was no doubt in Jungkook’s mind that his parents would already be tittering around his absence, measuring the fast fleeing day and fussing over your parents in return. It wasn’t uncommon for this to happen, and he was sure that when he returned there would be little other than a sting on his wrist and a hole glared into the expanse of his back as he slopped to bed, but it was still ingrained in his morals not to worry his parents overly and the skim of discomfort was more than evident in his nerves as he shifted awkwardly in his lounging position. With a drawn out sigh, Jungkook was reluctantly extracting himself from you, pushing away the complaint that snuck over his tongue when you whined at the loss. 

“Come one, it’s getting late,” he began, patting your hands that were flailing above you much how a child begged to be held, a pout jutting at your lips,”If we don’t leave now it’ll be dark by the time we get back.”

With a hesitant huff, you were sliding up into a upward state, back clicking as you arched from side to side to release the tension that was creeping along your joints. Fatigue pulled heavy into your features in the appearance of a loose jaw and eyes that drooped with sleep, but you happily swallowed it whole as you perked next to him to creep away from your serene hide-out. 

Jungkook straightened his posture as he followed the more obscure trail that lay behind masses of saplings and blooming flowers to hoist the bag that had contained the food you had used as energy boosts throughout the upward trudge and the small nature selections that had made their way into your possession and wound along to the earthed track. “Not to mention last time I turned up after dark, father practically had a heart attack from the shock of seeing me out so late.”  

You pattered along behind him, voice following like a shadow as you tripped down through the roots and weaved across the stones that littered the path into the woods like lights guiding the way back home, “That’s it? Last time it was this late my parents lectured me for for half the day about the dangers of parading out with a young man, not that I blame them; you’re a terrible influence on me.”

Snorting, he merely glanced over his shoulder at your stumbling form as you picked your way onto the path, waving off his hand that he stretched out to you as you lifted the expanse of your leg over the bank. Light shifted over your face as you tucked your hair over your ears and met his pace as you began the long trek back to the village. “Well, I don’t know Y/N, don’t you remember that time you made me jump into that lake because it looked ‘dangerous’, I think if anything you’re the bad influence.”

“Shut up, Jeon Jungkook, that was only one time. I’m an angel.”

“Ow, Mama, that hurts!” Jungkook yelped as his mother caught against his ear, pinching the delicate flesh until the shell was flushed and rosy under her fingerprints despite his squirming. He was pretty sure that with all of the abuse his ear had been through in the last twelve hours, ranging from the bouts of words that had been thrown his way and his mother’s light yet frequent punishments, he was sure that he would be all to aware of the ache that trailed heat around his skull by this time tomorrow. 

“Good!” The exclamation fell past his mother’s lips, huffs and pout only emphasising the tugging of his sensitive ears that moved in succession with her every word, “Now you know how the pain of having your son make you wait up until late because he’s away frolicking with his sweetheart!”

A flush crawled over his neck as Jungkook ducked down deeper into his shirt collar and swatted his mother’s prying fingers away, mortified at the phrase that had slipped it’s hands around his chest and was pulling all sorts of reactions from him, “She’s not my sweetheart! Don’t make it awkward, you know we were just in the woods.”

A brief chuckle sounded from the other side of the room, his father padding down the stairs into the kitchen, his tunic lapping off of his shoulders, untied and loose and his shoes unlaced. His hair lay thickly over the slope of his forehead, curling at the ends like unruly waves that were disconcertingly similar to Jungkook’s own mess of locks as heavy circles roamed freely under his soft eyes. His father worked as a carpenter, alongside your father, and it wasn’t unusual to see him drag around the small house wearing little other than a vest and his breeches at an early hour, exhaustion long since robbed him of any coherent thought he could apply to his wardrobe. In fact, at some point, Jungkook had stumbled across him wearing disturbingly less, and had been suitably traumatised by the sight of his father in that state so close to where they ate. But that was a different matter completely. “We know you were just in the woods. It’s not where you are that’s concerning, it’s what you were doing, son.”

Words bubbled up to his throat, and gods knew he wanted to utter them, but the knowing look his father was shooting him caught the syllables like flimsy paper planes and tucked them away into his pocket. It had always been hard to argue with his parents; they shared the uncanny ability with you at being able to read him from little other than a single glance in his direction, so it shouldn’t have been a shock that they were aware of his not so subtle affections for you, and yet here he was gaping and gasping like a fish caught on land. “It’s not…we’re not- she doesn’t even-”

“Ah no, don’t worry son I don’t think you’ve done anything yet, you’re a good kid,” his father’s hand waved about in the air around his head, as if the simple motion would dispel the worries that were clustering in Jungkook’s mind, before continuing with his so-pronounced righteous speech, “Listen, I know this may be hard for you to understand, but I was your age once before, I know what it’s like. And I also know that you like Y/N, and what can happen when two young people who have known each other for a very long time can be like. It wouldn’t be the first time that two youthful lovers are whisked away in their passion for each other, its just do damn easy to mess something up.”

His mother shot a firm glare over to his father as he passed, nudging him with her shoulder as she reached over to press comforting circles into the boy’s fast deflating shoulders, “Forgive your father, he’s practically lost in the morning, what he’s is trying to say is that we approve, Y/N’s practically like family, and I want you to be happy darling. I just want you to be careful, you’re both young, naive, you have so far to go, so don’t rush it okay?”

“But don’t leave it too late, your eighteen for the gods sake, you still want to be kicking when you get married, trust me on that.” Came his father’s response, muffled by the food he was chewing on, eyes deep with faux innocence when Jungkook’s mother reacted just as violently as Jungkook was feeling. 

Kyung,” his mother practically hissed his father’s name and even from his spot at the table he could spot the wide eyes of his father as he scrambled to recollect his composure; his mother may have been arguably the sweetest woman in the village when she wanted to be, but as soon as you crossed her, well let’s just say she’d do a lot more that simply pick at your ear, “I would suggest we don’t share those things with our son.”

“But it’s important for a boy to know what happens in a bedroom, it’s quite simple really, we just-”

The sentence was rudely severed by the repeated urges from both Jungkook and his mother to stop, ‘Kyung!’ and ‘Papa!’ filling the small space in the kitchen until the space felt uncomfortably tight for even at his most composed, which he most definitely was not at that moment. His mother look absolutely horrified, moments away from clasping her palms over Jungkook’s ears to save whatever innocence he had left in him. And it was just as his father was opening his mouth to retort, grumbles leaving him that would no doubt come back to haunt his every moment with a vengeance, he was drawing a line and fumbling with excuses that seemed to large under his tongue. 

“Fire wood,” He stated bluntly, sentence melding together into a tangle of sounds, the legs of his chair crying out alarmingly as he stumbled back away from the table in haste, “We need more fire wood, right? I’ll go get some! I’ll only be an hour or so at the latest.” 

His mother immediately whipped around, brows furrowed and lips drawn into a taut, stern line, “What? Come now Jungkook, you know it’s not safe to go down to the creek on your own. The ground’s too unstable at this time of year. Just leave it, your father will go later after hours.” Cue his father’s emotional protest.

“Ah, no, it’s fine really,” Jungkook edged with his back to the door, feet moving progressively faster as he watched doubt take root in his mother’s time worn eyes, “I’ll take Y/N with me, it’ll be fine, she knows the forest really well. She’ll make sure we don’t go anywhere dangerous, alright?”

For a moment the older woman seemed torn, teeth puling marks into the swell of her lower lip as she watched him with no small amount of caution, “I suppose so, just, please don’t do anything reckless, please.”

Beams fell from his lips as Jungkook raced back to his mother, imprinting the shape of his lips onto the globe of her cheeks and fitting through the hall with his heavier coat in tow. Then he was rushing out of the door’s frame, trying desperately to ignore the cries from his father that bid him to be ‘safe’ and to look after you and the haunting voice of his mother that still fussed with reluctance even as he turned away from their dirt path to hurdle across village to you.

“And then they started talking about their marriage and…other things, and it was so strange. They’re strange. The gods must’ve truly hated me to give me such weird parents.” Jungkook skirted his feet through the masses of leaves with every step, watching as colourful flumes emerged from the ground before settling back with a quiet reverence. The earth below him was mostly loose soil, yielding easily with his every move, the soles of his canvas shoes long since stained and chalked with patterns of dust and blades of grass. It was cooler today, the air sitting comfortably between being too cold to be out in such thin garments and too hot to even function. The sun threw down through the canopy with watery intensity, bathing everything in a dim yellow hue that was easily defeated by the lush greenery that surrounded him. Birds chirped happily, watching as he trudged though the path that led to the lake, a constant reminder of the beauty that surrounded him.

“Don’t be so mean,” You chuckled, fiddling with the loose material of your old dress, hem barely brushing your knees from where you had tied it around your waist. It hadn’t been hard to convince you to come with him; you had been perched outside of your house when he arrived, side of your face cradled by your palm as you lazily surveyed the path. Even if it was only for an hour, you had jumped when he had simply mentioned the forest, bouncing on the balls of your feet and grasping his wrist to pull Jungkook with your whim as your feet thundered the sound of your leaving. He understood the sentiment, the village was too small,  and it swallowed up those who let it, but for those who craved freedom- who looked for more in the great expanse of wilderness merely steps away the close knit community could drive one to frustration with ease.  He had always known that you fit into the latter; your eyes were so wide open, you saw the world and wanted it for everything that it was. And in a way Jungkook understood that he was the same, more so than ever before the cramped walls of his home seemed like they were closing around his lungs. Maybe it was because of your influence, the many nights spent marvelling at the wonders that you both had yet to discover steering him in a similar direction, or maybe it was himself, but he couldn’t deny the small victory he had for being somewhat akin to your radiance “I like your parents, they’re kind, and it’s nice to see you suffer.”

A gentle hand playfully ruffled your hair, eliciting complaints as you struggled away, frowning and making rude gestures with your fingers that made a laugh bubble across Jungkook’s chest, “That’s easy for you to say- they love you so they’re always on their best behaviour around you. You should see them when you aren’t around, it’s like a mad house. By the way, how far away are we? I’m still tired from yesterday.” 

“Firstly, I have seen your parents when they weren’t trying to impress me, don’t you member that time your papa got drunk and begged me to never leave you,” you uttered, weaving around a tree to take a different trail and throwing an amused look over your shoulder when he cringed audibly, “Secondly, we’re pretty close, maybe a couple more minutes- can’t you hear the water?”

True to your words, the roar of the river rang closer with every step he took, the cool water spilling through the air so that that the layer of clammy exertion on Jungkook’s body was lifting away. With a grin, you clasped your fingers around the inside of his arm and skipped forward, ducking under the layers of hanging willow branches to the river’s edge. The trees spread their stiff fingers up towards the sky, sparse leafs quivering with every turn of the breeze- gossiping together in the warm afternoon. Here the wood was brittle, dry and easy to break off to burn, so naturally the village had taken to making the space by the river a makeshift cutting station, logs crowding around an axe that lay embedded in the stump of a long-forgotten tree, blunt and dull with age. 

“Told you I knew the way,” you were twirling with a flourish, smug smile disappearing as you stretched low to your toes with a satisfied groan, “Gods, I forgot how much my legs hate coming here though… hurry up so that we can start heading back; maybe we’ll even have enough time to go raid Mr. Lee’s pantry if we leave before dark.”

Shaking his head Jungkook was padding over to the logs and axe that awaited him, ignoring the way you plopped into the long grass with a happy sigh, “You’re so food obsessed, it’s a wonder you’re not the size of a house by now. How do you even know how to get here anyway?”

Waving him off, you lifted your chin into the crook of your palm to survey him with ease, “I’m a growing girl, I need my food. And Papa used to take me up here all the time, y’know when he had his leg thing? He couldn’t really do much without my help, so I spent a lot of time up here.”

Biting back the mocking comment of ‘growing girl’ Jungkook merely hummed in acknowledgement, keeping his eyes level with the wood as he began to work. It was gruelling work, moving his arm in those circular arcs, and despite his arms that had developed like the rest of his body- a thin layer of strength craved over the limbs, it was only minutes before he was whining and complaining bitterly. 

“Ah, this is so tiring,” Jungkook groaned, hoisting the axe to his side so that he could rub his fingers into the strain of muscles that jumped in his back, working out the knots that were already starting to form, “Give me a hand Y/N? Can you start gathering what I’ve chopped?”

Silence greeted him, the river sounding closer than ever before, the drip of the current over slate thundering in the still air. It was odd, you were usually attentive to whatever he said, always brandishing the edge of a snarky remark or a soft giggle even if what he said was no more than an utter of your name along the wind. So, with a sensible amount of concern, Jungkook was turning around to face you, your name falling from him in a curve of confusion.

You were standing right at the edge of the bank, only one side of your face visible to him from his position, eyes wide and trembling as your lips parted and gaped. Soundless words formed and fell from you, the air from your lungs seemingly stolen as you searched and grasped for words. Somewhere on the opposite side of the river was the pinpoint of your focus, your eyes wavering, expanding and contracting with movement as your legs swayed from the warning of buckling.Then, with an arm that shook from nerves you were raising a digit to wave over in front of you, your lips opening to finally murmurer the words that had been caught in your throat, “I-It’s you?” 

A chill ran over Jungkook at that; the phrase obviously wasn’t meant for him, but the pure awe and reverence that dripped from each syllable was enough to have the axe falling from his grip and his feet slowly moving. You shivered, emotion palpable in your face as you dithered around, hesitance marking into the lines of your features. 

“Y/N,” he started cautiously, still a distance off as you gasped again, your palms covering the surface of your mouth as you watched the point in front of you with a vengeful concentration. Not a single reaction gave away the hint that you could hear him, in fact you seemed to shy further to the river’s lip the closer he came. “No,” you exclaimed suddenly, the breath coming out harsh and desperate, “Please don’t go, please wait- wait!” The line of your words fell forwards, and, seemingly out of instinct, you were lunging forward in an attempt to stop whatever was leaving you. And yet, being so close to the end of land, even that small movement was enough to send you onto your knees and hands, dirt slipping through your fingers ans you toppled over the boundary with a startled cry. 

Your name tore colour across the seam of his lips as he rushed closer to the edge of the river, eyes wide as his nerves sparked with fused ends, watching as you were submerged in the river’s hold. You bobbed around, your face taut with cold and your mouth swallowing great handfuls of air before you were sobbing in pure fear, “Jungkook!”  And for that, he jumped. 

The water hit the plane of his face like a punch, air knocking over his mouth in a shaky gasp that was drowned out by a wave spilling across his lips. Even in the mild weather, the river was absolutely frigid, thoughts flying from Jungkook’s grip as he struggled out of the ball his body was itching to huddle into and bearing his weight up to the surface. He had never been that good at swimming, always falling behind whenever his parents tried to coax him to join them- and in this sort of weather it was all he could manage to keep his face above the edges that lapped against his cheek. Disturbances quivered around him in every direction from the desperate kicking of this arms and legs, the current dragging his prone form away from where he had stood merely minutes ago.

“Y/N!” Jungkook’s voice came out weak and cracking, panic setting deep into him when he was dragged back through the stream, mouth gaping large whenever he could force his face upwards to the sky. He searched for you in a fluster, looking for the patch of hair bobbing in the water of a shock of cold struck skin flailing around-but it was useless; his eyes wouldn’t stay open in the spit of water and any sounds were being drowned out by the roar of liquid around him. Then it happened, louder and more despairingly than he had ever known, he had heard you.

“Jungkook!” Tears welled over the syllables of his name, dripping with a striking terror as your struggle against the current bled into your tone. And there you were, a little way in front of him, face partially from how far you were sinking- hair thrown around you in a mangled halo as you fought to stay adrift. The glazed look in your eyes had faded, replaced by the starkly clear cut of terror that only grew as you struggled. But the thing that hit him the deepest was your eyes, wide and trembling; begging for him to help as you were battered around like a frail doll under the water’s whim. Your mouth parted in feeble cries as you were thrust under the surface once more, only to reemerge, cheeks heaving with tears and eyes squinting furiously as your palms struck the water from the weak motions. You couldn’t swim, the thought came to Jungkook with a sickening twist in his stomach; you couldn’t swim and you were caught in the rapids metres away from where he was. He wouldn’t be able to get to you in time, he couldn’t save you. This was his fault. 

Pushing away the thoughts that screamed misery into his very being, Jungkook was rearing up, using all of his strength in an attempt to reach your crying form. His name was thrown under the film of water as you cried for him still, his arms working as hard as you could to press closer. 

“Y/N, just wait, it’s gonna be okay,” he was panting over the rush of water, watching the way you jolted frantically, “I’m coming to you just wait, please!” With wide eyes, you were reaching for him, you arms stretching out so that your fingers were merely spaces away, lips trembling as you begged for help. With one last utter of his name, you were grasped by the water and directed to one of the rivers side’s with a force to be wary of, your body snapping as you made contact with the dirt wall.  Your head knocked into the river side with a sickening sound, eyes slipping shut immediately as your body crumpled against the plane and was brought along the side of the bank by the current’s wishes, water creeping over your neck that tilted dangerously into the thrashing liquid. He screamed your name as you ducked under, body limp and pliable for the water to do what it pleased, your hair thrown away like silk in the wind. Your hand had caught at the side of the river’s lip, fingers caught by a branch that twined like steel into your palm and you stuck firm to the wall, fear thickening Jungkook’s mind. But you were at a point, somewhere he could get to, and that’s all that mattered. He needed to get to you. So, as the river dragged him closer to a bend, he somehow manged to grasp onto a root that stuck from one side, fingers hanging onto the wood with a muted prayer and hurdled himself with the force of the turn so that he was swept over to your prone figure. 

With a gentle thud, he was colliding with you body, arms scrambling through the onslaught of water to curl around your cold body, your head lolling into the crook of his neck. His fingers moaned in pain as his knuckles standing out a stark white from how hard he gripped the branch on impact, other arm buried adamantly into your waist as the water pushed and pulled the pair of you.

“Y/N,” Jungkook’s voice was shredded, trembling with fear and panic as you simply lay docile in his grip, hair still matted over your face and arms doing nothing to grip him, “Y/N, please, I need you to-” Then he saw it.

As your hair whipped to the nape of your neck with the water, blood trickled into the shades that he loved so much, running a course from a gash on your forehead to the slope of your brow, tricking to the corners pf your wide, blank unseeing eyes. The light that had always been there, always come to meet him, always indulged him in the mysteries you beckoned under the rim of your lashes was gone, replaced by merely a shadow of fear that beaded pity across your frozen face. Jungkook started for a moment or two, his heart clenching as you were tumbled back into his chest, your forehead nestled into him like you had done merely hours ago You were no longer warm, the breaths that had pattered over his side as you chuckled stilling to the cool water that hung around both of you. Then it happened, when he finally breathed, the pain came rushing in. It was like nothing that Jungkook had ever felt, a pain the tore a cry from his throat and agony fought hard into the centre of his chest, curling into the put of his stomach until he felt physically sick. It was as if he was dying, the torment pricking over every inch of his body as sobs of your name broke free. You were dead in his arms, your limp arms holding the feeble broken state of his heart that throbbed closer to it’s end with every beat, there was nothing he could do to save you, and the thought was enough to make him pull you closer a s a hoarse scream echoed into your temple. Tears flooded down the planes of his cheeks, merging with the water that had oh so cruelly taken you from him. It was too much, and in his sorrow, Jungkook was happy to let go of the branch that dug into the tender flesh of his digits. 

 The current was quick to swallow him up again, the adrenaline born energy that had been fighting against his chest dying away as fast as it had come; the thing he had been fighting so hard for was gone and it was all he could do to keep your still body flush against him as your life ran ink through the water- moments dissolving as your soul walked away. His arms pulled around you tighter, whispering words of comfort that fell on deaf ears, apologies that would never be accepted floating around him as the water roared loudly in his ears. 

A sharp turn had him hurdling towards a bank, eyes shut as he sank into the last time he would ever hold you in his embrace, his life fleeing along with your own. And when he was slamming into the face of a rock, head bruising and cracking under the force, he did nothing to protect himself- only holding your more firmly to throw a plea to the gods that would undoubtedly refuse to listen. Please, just let me die with her, Jungkook sank into the water’s side, its fingers making quick work to pull him under the surface. Crimson rose above him like a ribbon, marking the place that you both fell to as the dark crowded from the floor. His breath burst uselessly in his lungs, tendrils of his last gasp escaping his loose hold with ease. And it was when his chest was thundering with a dull ache and his heart was finally easing it’s pain that he heard you, clear and direct from the place you had flow to.

“Please Kookie,” you cried, hands tugging uselessly at the torn material of his tunic, hands smoothing warmth along the expanse of his body from every space your fingertips graced, “please don’t leave me, I don’t want to be alone, please.”

Smoothing his hand over your head, eyes fond at your innocent face that was clear of pain, bright and gorgeous in the dark of the sky Jungkook whispered back to the hummingbird race of your beautiful, beautiful life, “Never.” Then the shadows finally collapsed in on his form, still curled around your own and whispering promises that rose in the summer haze, the last and only sign of two souls whose love was always destined to die. 

Waltz Into My Life (Grayson x Reader)

Summary: Request from anon: “Hey b! Can you do one where you a G have to go to a wedding (like a family member or smth) and you guys have to learn how to waltz”
Word Count: 667
Warnings: None.
A/N: Thank you for all the lovely requests, I’m currently trying to get through them all. And thank you dear anon for this request, I had a good time writing it. Enjoy! ♡

GIF credit.

“Your cousin is really going all out on this whole wedding thing, huh?” Gray asked and you looked up from where you were standing behind the kitchen counter, the invitation in your hand.

“It’s romantic,” You sighed, smiling. “Besides, this is a day they’ll be remembering for the rest of their lives. Telling their children and grandchildren about it, and all that.

Grayson nodded and came up behind you, taking your petite hand in his with a smug smile and pulling you over to the living room where he twirled you around. You giggled and went along with it, his other hand coming up to your waist to hold you as you put yours on his body. You danced around goofily, smiling at each other like dorks.

“I don’t think we need to learn how to waltz, we have it covered.” He said and you laughed out loud, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“I don’t think we’re even waltzing, Gray.” You answered with a giggle.

Keep reading

Midnight Appointment

Request: I wanted to ask for a Tony fic. Something along the lines of being in a relationship with Tony but also being like his partner in crime. It could be anything really. I just really adore this blog and the writing.          

You sat in a desk chair trying to throw popcorn into your mouth while Tony worked around you. He seemed stressed, more stressed than usual. Tony was always vaguely stressed, but right now you were watching him walk in circles. He was obviously looking for something, or trying to remember what he was looking for in the first place.

“Stark, what are you looking for?” you asked around the mouthful of popcorn you were chewing. He paused in his pacing and looked up at you, “When did you get popcorn?”

“A while ago, what’s up with you genius.”

“Sorry, I’m a little,” he gestured widely, and you understood he was a bit at his wits end, manic enough to feel like he ought to do something, but stretched too thin to do anything. You sat up and threw a couple of popcorn kernels at him. They each hit him in the face until he was aware what you were going for. He opened his mouth and tried to catch them in his mouth. He caught them and with each one he caught he moved further back.

“I think you need a break,” you suggested, stuffing a handful of popcorn in your mouth. He frowned at the idea of a break, he didn’t want to be still, but he also didn’t want to go out into society. You waltzed over to one of the touch screens and looked through Tony’s music.

“You should do the dance classes I set up. It’s good for stress and the physique.”

“Are you trying to tell me I’m out of shape?”

“All I’m saying is, Steve has been my dance partner for the last three weeks.” you taunted, “he has a very firm dancing circle.”

Tony made a sound of discontent, “You’ve been dancing with Steve.”

“Yes because you were working,” you pouted as you found one of your own playlists and turned it on.

“Wow, thanks for showing me what a fake friend looks like.”

“Oh whatever Stark. Not my fault Steve happened to be the only one willing to go with your beautiful girlfriend to the very expensive non-refundable dance classes you bought. You should be thanking him. He didn’t let your money go to waste.”

“When you put it like that how I can be upset? In fact, I should just let Steve fill in for me all the time.”

“Even for your midnight appointment with me?” you questioned quirking an eyebrow.

He frowned at you. He had no idea what appointment you were talking about, “FRIDAY what is my midnight appointment with Y/N?”

“The appointment description says, sex until 4 AM.” she answered.

“… You made an appointment to have sex with me?” he asked incredulously, but amusement hung on the edge of his tone.

“Like an escort… but I’m not paying you. I mean, I guess Steve could fill in for that, but I don’t know he’s a busy dude.”

“Hey no one but me is filling you in,” He announced grabbing your hips and pulling you close to him.

“Then dance with me Tony,” you laughed, turning around in his arms. You and Tony were the definition of a power couple. You were best friends and partners in crime. The two of you were always together. He obliged you in dancing, humoring the mix of goofy and risque dancing. When you were too gripped in laughter to dance properly he let you go. He sat in front of his computer to try to think of something to work on. You went over and held him from behind. resting  your chin on his shoulder.

“You want to take apart an arc reactor with me and make a highly unstable hoverboard.” you offered.

“It’s like I made you in a machine,” He whispered looking over at you in awe.

The two of you worked away in the workshop until you were too tired to continue on. He kissed you goodnight, and you went to bed.  

Tony spent another few hours in the workshop until midnight when FRIDAY reminded him of your “appointment”. He figured you were already asleep and took the notice as more of a bedtime than anything else. It had been a while since he slept with you, just sleeping. Tony entered the bedroom, your body wash hung in the air from your shower. However, the bed was empty. He walked towards the en suite hoping to find you still in the shower. As he stepped closer, he could hear the shower running. He opened the door.  You were singing quietly to yourself in the shower as you massaged the nice smelling soap into your skin.

“When’s our next class?” Tony asked.

“What class?”

“The dance thing?”

“Oh next week.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Tony it’s okay, you don’t have to make promises you can’t keep. I know you’re busy. It’s hard being a genius.”

“So? I’ll be there. Tell Spangles he’s benched.”

“Well alright,” there was a pause, and you snorted, “that instructor is gonna think I’m cheating on Steve.”

“Well I will happily be the other woman,” he joked, successively pulling a breathy laugh out of you.

“Alright well you have big shoes to fill. Cap is a really good dancer. He’s surprisingly light on his feet.”

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t want you talking about Capsicle while you’re naked. It’s just weird.”

“You laughed a little at that,  “Fine, Mr. Stark. How are we looking for our midnight appointment?”

“I’m definitely ready.”

“Well then get in this shower, genius.”

~Mod Lillian

The Coffin-Maker’s Torch Song


Not quite the final part- But close. One more to go, now enjoy!


She gives a nod. Names a time.

She’s an autopsy to do, she tells him, and then the next of kin to speak with; she won’t be ready for a while.

Sherlock nods, outwardly pleased and inwardly terrified at the thought of having a whole forty minutes to wait for her.

But he nods. Agrees. He has tissue samples to look over, he’ll do that.

He tries to catch up on his experiments but nerves mean he can’t keep his hands steady enough to make it worth his while.


Keep reading

Not Your Girlfriend [Sirius Black – Marauders Era] [Part 4]

Prompt: A few weeks after reconciling, Sirius Black and Y/N L/N are now together, but a question still stands between them. Who was the maker of the potion that forged their relationship? When a new “clue” turns up, both Sirius and Y/N rope the rest of the Marauders and those of the girls’ dorm into a manhunt for the person responsible. Along the way, their bond only seems to grow stronger…
Warnings: Swearing, Sexy Sirius
Additional Note: Don’t forget to request! I haven’t gotten a single one from any of you, and while I enjoy writing on this series, I really want you guys to request something from your own imagination! Regardless, enjoy Part 4 which bears a new prompt now that Sirius and Y/N have confessed their feelings. Message my inbox or reply to this post if you want to see a Part 5! I’ll try to make the next update longer, if you guys want. davros2004 - you wanted me to tag you, so here you go! Enjoy, y’all :)
Word Count: 941

Madam Pomfrey scowled at Sirius and James as they stumbled through the Hospital Wing’s doors. The young woman had just been treating a boy who’d been burned by a mysterious plant in Herbology when two of her least favorite Hogwarts students waltzed in, one bearing a sad, tearful expression that resembled that of an abandoned dog, the other looking like he wanted nothing to do with his companion or the Hospital Wing. Upon seeing Madam Pomfrey, the second boy grinned widely.

“Hullo, Madam Pomfrey!” he said. “Lovely weather we’re having, don’t you think? If only the Black Lake was swimmable—“

“What do you want, Mr. Potter?” Madam Pomfrey interrupted to ask, eyes returning to her work. She gently rubbed a magical concoction overtop the wound on the boy, demanding that he return to the classroom immediately afterwards. As the boy gave a yelp of submission and scurried out past the pair of Marauders, Madam Pomfrey turned to look at them, eyebrows raised. “Well?”

“Y/N,” Sirius moaned, bringing both of their attention to the boy as he grabbed onto James like he was a lifeline. “Can we go back to Y/N, Prongs? Please?”

James ignored him, instead giving the poor healer a sheepish look. “He accidentally sipped on a love potion,” he said.

“’Accidentally?’” Madam Pomfrey repeated, raising her eyebrows even higher atop her forehead. “Hm.”

“Can you fix him?” James asked desperately, shoving Sirius in her direction and not even caring as he fell to the ground like a pile of rubbish. “He won’t stop whining. It’s getting rather annoying.”

Madam Pomfrey glanced at Sirius’s miserable form. She sighed. “I suppose I have to,” she muttered before getting to work.


In the Hogwarts courtyard, Y/N L/N giggled soundly as Sirius pulled back from placing a kiss against her temple. “Stop it, you dog,” she said, and a wolfish grin crossed his mouth. Rebellious as ever, he ignored her plea to stop and kissed from her cheekbone to her chin, gaining another giggle and a swat from Y/N’s delicate hand. “Sirius!”

“Y/N!” he mocked. When she just glared at him, he took her hand and smacked his lips right against the knuckle. Her nose wrinkled at the slobber he produced. “C’mon, love—you know I’m only playing around. Throw me a bone here.”

“Merlin, stop,” Y/N said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. Ever since finding out about the boys being animagi and Remus having a “furry little problem,” Sirius used any excuse for a pun, which became excessively annoying after the fourth or fifth time he did it. While Y/N enjoyed Sirius being honest with her and thinking enough of their relationship to not hide anything, she sure as hell didn’t appreciate his need to always have a laugh. It was one of the only things about him that made her simultaneously want to burst out laughing and smack the absolute shite out of him. “I’m being serious.”

“I thought I was Sirius?” Sirius leaned back in his chair, giving Y/N an affronted look. “Didn’t know I had someone trying to impersonate me.”

Y/N was about to reply with a “You wish,” but the two were interrupted by the repeated calls of a certain messy-haired boy named James. “Padfoot! Padfoot! Come look—you won’t believe this,” he was yelling. Once he reached the pair, he stopped to place both hands on his knees, a breath of exhaustion escaping him almost immediately. “It’s… you won’t believe it.”

“What is it, Prongs?” Sirius pulled back from Y/N to stare at James with interest. Y/N herself was having a hard time keeping her face unreadable. “You didn’t find Lily off shagging someone, now did you?”

James’s face flashed. “Close, but not quite,” he said. “C’mon. Y/N, you’ll want to see this too.” He beckoned them to follow, then paced quite briskly towards Hogwarts. Y/N and Sirius shared a dubious look before getting up and following closely behind.

The happy couple and their companion continued in a quiet sort of waltz for a few minutes, on and on until they reached the hallway right before the Great Hall. Two figures were already there, and one of them happened to be Lily Evans.

“Get away, you blubbering twat,” she shouted, pushing away a tall boy with jet-black hair. “I do not fancy you!”

The boy was quick to grab at Lily’s hands before she could shove him away and storm off in a blaze of fiery red hair. “But Lily,” he rasped, “I thought we had something special.”

“You thought wrong, then,” she spat, giving him a glare meant to kill. She forced him to release his grip by jerking her arms away. She was about to go through the doors leading to the Great Hall when she caught sight of Y/N and the boys standing there, watching the scene in bemused silence. “Argh, Potter—why are you everywhere these days? Bloody hell!” She didn’t even stop to say hello to Y/N before storming out of their sight.

The boy turned to face them, then, and his face was sullen, eyes alight with adoration. Y/N and James recognized the look almost instantly while Sirius took the hint a wee bit later. Y/N sighed with exasperation. “To the Hospital Wing we go, I suppose,” she said.

With that being said, Sirius was quick to wrap his arm around Y/N’s waist, leaning down to press a kiss to the ring of her hair. “Looks like the culprit found a new victim,” he said. Though it sounded like a joke, she knew exactly what he was thinking. She couldn’t deny that her thoughts were the same.