#I think you guys are going to really like this one
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remxedmoon · 3 days ago
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so all you need to do right now is disappear.
HHHHAPPY ISATVERSARY EVERYONE. here’s redraws for every single battle cg in the game. 36 drawings this time around, with 11 of those being custom (though admittedly a good portion of those are edits). combined with the portrait redraws i made back in september, i’ve made 114 redraws for this project! jesus christ! just like those redraws, these are completely free to use!! as long as i’m credited and it’s not for commercial purposes, go wild!! do whatever you want!!!
no i didn’t make these for isat’s 1 year anniversary this is just wildly good timing.
i genuinely can’t fit all of these cgs in one post even with the 30 image limit on browser, but i’ll still try to fit Most of them below the cut (without making this post horrifically long), along with some notes that might be important 👍
okay! once again, i labeled all of the custom art as such in the drive, but if you want a full list, the customs are hatless siffrin jackpot, bonnie jackpot, bonnie special attack, bigfrin attack, and a bunch of alts which are definitely not related to any projects i’ve been thinking about don’t worry about it. and out of those customs, only like. 3 of them are actually completely from scratch.
while i did my absolute best to keep the aspect ratios completely the same as the originals, there’s 3 exceptions that i just couldn’t get to work.
isabeau’s hair in his special attack cg wouldn’t fit in frame if i kept things completely accurate to the og, so i moved his cg down a bit. it shouldn’t cause any issues with modding or anything, it’ll just appear slightly lower than it does in game. alas…
isabeau’s sleeve and mirabelle’s hair made their jackpot sprites a little larger than the originals? i’m hoping this doesn’t have too much of an effect (since the jackpot sprites have inconsistent sizes) but i can’t test this myself unfortunately. aaa feel free to let me know on discord if any problems arise!!
i managed to fix these, so they aren’t going to cause problems now, but my original drawings for mirabelle and siffrin in the final attack scene were a pain in the ass to fix. mirabelle’s sprite was slightly too talk to fit in frame and siffrin’s hat whacked bonnie in the face while i was editing everyone together. i’m only mentioning this because it took like an hour and a half to fix them and finish the scene.
all that aside, these were a fucking BLAST to work on. apparently this ended up taking 57 hours over exactly 10 days. which is a little worrying if you do the math on that but somehow i have not burnt myself out. i will be doing enemies at some point!!! but probably not for a little bit. i think my friends will actually kill me if i don’t take a break.
once again, happy birthday isat. you’ve ruined my life and i wouldn’t have it any other way (silly).
also, on an actual serious note, this little timeloop game has genuinely changed my life for the better? you guys are probably sick of hearing it at this point (or maybe not, i don’t talk about myself That Much. i hope), but i was practically a ghost for about 2 years before joining this fandom. it’s a little surreal to suddenly have friends (plural!!!) and people who Care about me, or even know i exist, honestly. it’s weird!! in a good way!!!
i don’t think i would’ve ever come back to social media if this community wasn’t so welcoming. i’ve met a lot of really great people through this game!!! so, uh, thank you isat, i guess. here’s to another year.
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cinnamorollcrybaby · 1 day ago
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Mama, I’m in love with a criminal
Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, no curse au, dead dove, violence described including murder, dark romance, use of y/n, descriptions of mental illness.
Synopsis: Sukuna’s talking to his therapist in jail about you. He’s incarcerated because of you, and his obsession is concerning.
An: Yeah idk i thought of this while I was driving to work one morning.
Session one.
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His large frame laid lazily over the couch, clad in an orange jumpsuit. He had his feet propped up on one side, and his head was propped up on the other side in a far too casual manner. His naturally pink hair pushed up near the front, messily so.
He was still cuffed and shackled, but the therapist was still afraid of him. To the therapist’s credit, he had read the warrant that went into viscous detail of Sukuna’s crimes.
Normally, the therapist wouldn’t read the inmates warrants due to situations like these. He liked going into sessions with an open mind, but he had gotten warnings about Sukuna… how the man can fly into a blind rage like a switch on the wall.
He was brutal, unforgivable, inhumane.
Simple counseling wasn’t going to “fix” a broken human like Sukuna. The therapist knew this, but the state mandated that Sukuna undergo weekly counseling sessions per his sentence.
Sukuna could taste the therapist’s fear, and he let out an earnest laugh. “You don’t even want to try to fix me, do you?” He asked tauntingly with a lopsided grin. “I don’t blame you. Don’t feel bad~”
The therapist swallowed the lump in his throat, and he adjusted in his seat. “I can’t fix anyone… Counseling isn’t about fixing.. It’s about moving forward and learning how to live.”
“Bullshit.” Sukuna spits with shrug. “Counseling is about focusing on the past and letting shit hang you up for far too long. I guarantee you that you’re going to ask me about how I got here, is that right?”
The therapist is shaking like a leaf at this point. “Our past can help us navigate to a better future.” He murmured out weakly.
Sukuna roars in laughter, causing the therapist to nearly jump out of his seat. The pink-haired felon doubles over as he laughs hysterically. “You’re a funny guy. Fine. You really want to know how I got here? I’ll tell you.”
After a deep breath and wiping away a fake tear, Sukuna goes on, “You know, teachers always believe that pairing the troubled kids up with the good kids will inspire them to act right. That shit never works.”
“I think that’s when my ‘type’ developed. My bitch of a second-grade teacher assigned me to sit next to this frail meek girl after I got in trouble one too many times for terrorizing the other kids. She was a real stick in the mud.” Sukuna laughs fondly, a rare genuine smile on his face.
“Y/n?” The therapist asks, remembering your name from the warrants.
Sukuna’s red eyes snap over to the therapist with an almost predatory gaze. His hands visibly curl into fists. “Say her name again, and I’ll splatter your blood all over this room. The officers won’t be able to pry me from you, deeming you to be a lost cause.”
The therapist freezes as the breath hitches in his throat. His eyes dart toward his panic button, knowing he should probably press it now, but he’s frozen in fear.
“We’ll call her mouse.” Sukuna goes on as if he didn’t just threaten the poor guy’s life in brutal detail.
“Mouse was a real challenge. I for some reason made it my mission to get her to talk to me, but she always stayed silent — only answering me with simple head gestures.” He laughs again, lying his head back further as he’s replaying the memories in his mind. He can remember you vividly and how you looked back then. He yearns for that feeling again. The feeling of seeing you for the first time.
“I can’t exactly tell you when the challenge started to border obsession, but she slowly slithered her way into my brain. Even when I wasn’t in school, I thought about her. I wondered what she sounded like, wondered why she wouldn’t talk to me, wondered why she looked at me like that.”
The therapist furrows his eyebrows. Even though he doesn’t feel safe in this session, and he doesn’t trust Sukuna at all, he has a hunger for knowledge, and he loves solving things that have to do with the human psyche.
“Looked at you like what?” The therapist dared to ask.
Sukuna stayed silent for a moment, and he tapped his finger against the back of his hand. His face hardened as he found the words he was looking for. “She looked at me like she had no preconceived notion of me. Her eyes… were so big and round. Even though she didn’t talk to me, it was like she accepting of my presence.”
The shackles jingled as Sukuna rubbed his face in a stressed gesture. Remembering you was like a double edged sword. He loved thinking about you, but he hated being reminded that he was without you.
The therapist eased in his chair. There was actual emotions underneath all those tattoos, thick skin, and muscle. The media had portrayed Sukuna as a complete narcissistic sociopath, but this was proof that diagnosis was false.
“I bothered the shit out of her for years, continually getting myself paired up with her.” Sukuna grinned, shifting the conversation back in a direction that he was more comfortable with, “I remember those asshole kids always called me her shadow because I followed her everywhere. Jokes on them.”
The therapist shivered as be remembered a chilling detail from the warrants. Each time a victim was found, a message was written in the victim’s blood.
-ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ
His victim’s - their deaths were like an homage to you.
“Were the kids ever… assholes to mouse?”
Sukuna’s jaw visibly tightened. He loathed this therapist’s questions… thinking he knew everything just because you and Sukuna were misunderstood kids.
“They called her weird for not talking.” Sukuna recalled as he bit his inner cheek. His eyes glared to the wall in front of him. “Now look at who can’t talk.”
Sukuna’s first victim. He didn’t start out with murder. He started out with stapling your bullies mouth shut for taunting you. Everything was for you. Everything.
He held a kid down to the teacher’s in third grade, grabbing a stapler, and he pressed it down one by one into the kids lips, binding them together. The kid couldn’t scream or cry for help, or else he’d risk ripping the flesh on his lips.
The teachers found the kid and immediately knew the only kid sadistic enough to go through with such an act was none other than Sukuna.
“Did mouse witness you do that?” The therapist asked, genuinely intrigued by Sukuna’s narrative. For being a ruthless criminal, he was a wonderful historian.
“No. Why would I scare her like that?” Sukuna’s voice was tense as he eyed the therapist carefully, as if he was waiting for him to say the wrong thing.
The therapist clicks his tongue in surprise, and he looks like a deer in headlights. “Scare? No.. no, I thought you’d maybe just show off what you did for her.”
“I’m not the type to show off.” Sukuna answers flatly, and the therapist wonders if that’s the first time Sukuna’s lied during this session. He knows that Sukuna likes to show off. The warrants prove it.
“Anyways, I wore her down over the years. She didn’t speak to me until we were in sixth grade.” An eerie smile curls on Sukuna’s lip. “I can still remember her first word to me and how she said it…”
The therapist leaned in, curiosity getting best of him.
Sukuna smirks, knowing he has the therapist interested now. “Her first word to me was a plea. A word to show her undeniable want. Her first word to me was please.”
Bang! Bang Bang!
The therapist literally flinches out of his chair from the heavy knocks at the door.
“Ryomen! Your time is up!” The officer yelled on the other side of the door.
“Pity. I was beginning to have fun.” Sukuna remarked as he stood up from the couch. The shackles jingled as he walked toward the door, and the door buzzed, letting him out. “See you next week, doc.”
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covenofagatha · 1 day ago
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Sugar, spice, and everything nice (Part 1)
Hot, rich, lawyer Agatha comes into the bakery where you work and she takes quite an interest in you (or Sugar mommy Agatha)
Word count: 2000
Warnings: none yet
A/N: hope you guys like this one!
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The bakery is always dead on Sunday afternoons. 
You’re not really sure why, maybe people are getting ready for the week or something, but it seems that in the town of Westview, no one craves sweets on Sundays. 
You’re not complaining, though. That just means you get to sit in an empty store and scroll on your phone and still get paid. 
Working at the bakery part time was a nice way to make some money while you finish up college, and to be honest, you did really like it. Your coworkers were all super nice and it wasn’t a very demanding job either. 
And then the bell on the door rings. You look up from your phone, startled. 
It’s a woman that you’ve never seen before. 
She’s wearing a tight white blouse under a brown blazer and smart gray pants. Her long, dark hair flows freely over one shoulder and her pale skin and blue eyes are striking. She is attractive. 
It doesn’t help that you’ve always had a thing for older women. 
“Hi,” she says, coming to a stop in front of the counter. 
“Hi, what can I get for you today?” You ask the rehearsed question. You wouldn’t be surprised if you said it in your sleep at this point. 
“What do you recommend?” 
You’re not even sure she’s looked at the menu that’s posted above the counter. “Depends on what you like. We have cupcakes, cake, pastries. It’s all good. What are you in the mood for?” 
You might be imagining it, but it really seems like her eyes rake up and down your body. She shrugs noncommittally. “Something fresh, something…sweet.” You swallow hard at the glint of heat in her eyes. 
“I just took a batch of cupcakes out of the oven,” you say. “Do you like red velvet?” 
“Sure, hon. I’ll take three,” she says. You smile wearily and get to work packaging them up. She watches you the whole time. 
You ring up the purchase on the register and clear your throat. “That’ll be $7.50.” She smirks and pulls out her wallet, flipping through bills. She pulls one out and hands it to you and your mouth falls open. 
It's $50.
“Keep the change,” she says with a wink. She grabs the box and walks swiftly out of the bakery. 
You assume it’s a one-time thing and pocket the extra money. You secretly hope she comes back though. 
And sure enough, she struts back in three days later, dressed just as nicely as she was the first time. You’re working the morning shift before your afternoon class and you are sipping on a desperately needed cup of coffee. She must be really rich, you think as she walks up, a smile playing on her lips. 
“Morning, hon,” she says. 
“Good morning, how are you doing today?” 
“Better now,” she replies and you can feel your cheeks getting hotter. “Can I get an espresso and a piece of cinnamon crumb cake?” 
“Of course. Anything else?” 
She raises an eyebrow teasingly like she wants to make a joke but says, “That’s all, dear. Thank you.” 
“Your total comes to $8.75,” you tell her. “For here or to-go?”
“For here, please.”
“I’ll get you the cake and then the coffee will be ready soon.” 
When you turn back with the piece of cake on a plate, she’s holding another $50 bill between her fingers. 
“Oh, I can’t–” She cuts you off by putting it into your uniform shirt pocket and pats it. You freeze with her hand basically touching your boob. She smirks and takes the plate from your hand and goes to sit in a corner booth. You don’t allow yourself to look at her as you make her espresso. 
She’s on her phone when you walk over to her, but she looks up earnestly when you put the cup down in front of her. 
“Here’s your coffee,” you say and you’re turning around to go back behind the counter when she touches your wrist. 
“Why don’t you sit down?” She asks, and it’s clear she’s not asking. And even if she was, she’s tipped you almost more than you make in a day on two separate occasions. You plop down on the other side of the table. “How do you like working here?” 
“Oh, um, it’s nice. I enjoy it. Plus we get dessert for free so can’t complain,” you say, a little surprised by the question. 
“Are you still in college?” 
“Yeah, I’m graduating in the spring.” She nods like she’s deep in thought. “What do you do?” 
“I’m a lawyer,” she answers, confidence oozing from her voice. Her tipping so much makes a lot more sense now. You launch into a series of questions, absolutely fascinated by her words, and she gives you everything you want. 
You’re so engrossed in her stories that you almost miss the bell to the bakery ringing. You suddenly jolt and remember that you’re supposed to be working. 
“Sorry, excuse me,” you say hastily and dart back behind the counter. A man orders a croissant and a coffee and you get his order out quickly. You want to back over to the woman, but you feel like you shouldn’t, especially with the other customer in here now. You can feel her looking at you the whole time though. 
A few minutes later she walks back up to the counter and places her empty coffee cup and plate down. 
“Oh, thank you,” you say, surprised. You usually clean off the tables yourself. 
“Thank you,” she says. Her eyes sweep over your face. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.” 
“I’ll be here,” you joke lamely but she smirks regardless. “I’m y/n.” 
“I know,” she responds, reaching over again to tap on the tag that clearly says your name. You blush furiously and fight the urge to hide your face in your hands. “I’m Agatha.” 
“Nice to meet you, Agatha,” you say, trying out her name on your tongue. You like how it sounds, how it feels. 
“Have a good day, hon.” Before you can tell her to have one too, she’s on her way out of the bakery, the bell announcing her departure. You take a deep breath to calm your racing heart. How is it that she can have this much effect on you after meeting her twice? 
You take the bill from your shirt pocket and put it in the register, collecting the change. Sure she’s rich, but she doesn’t have to be giving you this much money. 
So why is she? 
You spend the rest of the day thinking about Agatha. 
The next day, she comes strolling in at the exact same time. You’re doing some school work on your laptop and you hope you don’t visibly perk up as much as you feel. You wonder if those three days you didn’t see her between the first meeting and yesterday she had come by when you weren't on shift. 
But that’s a crazy thought, because surely she isn’t coming by just to see you. She orders the same thing: an espresso with a piece of cinnamon crumb cake. 
She gives you another crisp $50 bill.
“I know you have money to burn, being a fancy lawyer and all,” you tease. “But please don’t go broke buying coffee and cake.”  
She laughs melodically. “Doll, I’m not just buying coffee and cake, I’m thanking the excellent service.” And once again, she’s made you flush. You inwardly tell yourself that you need to stop letting her have such an effect on you. 
You get her the cake and she goes to sit down at the booth from yesterday and you begin making her coffee. You’re lost in thought, wondering if Agatha will invite you to sit with her again, when your hand shakes as you're pouring coffee from the pot to the cup and splashes onto your hand. 
You gasp loudly and drop the pot. It shatters all over the counter and soaks your laptop. 
“Oh, god, no!” You groan and rush to grab paper towels. You quickly sop up the mess from your laptop and carefully collect the pieces of glass. 
“Everything okay?” Agatha asks and you turn to find her standing at the counter again, a look of worry on her face. 
“Yeah, god, I’m sorry, I accidentally dropped the coffee,” you sputter. You throw the towels away and open up your computer, frantically pressing the power button.
It doesn’t turn on. 
With a defeated sigh, you close it and pinch the bridge of your nose. Of fucking course. You aren’t sure how you’re going to pay for a new laptop. 
“You okay?” Concern laces Agatha’s voice. 
You scoff and shrug. “There could not be a worse time for my computer to break. I have school work that needs to be done – I have an exam to take! And now I have to go find time to go to the store and buy a new one and ugh. It’s just so frustrating.” It feels good to vent and then you realize that you’re talking to basically a complete stranger. You straighten up. “Sorry, let me get a new pot and I’ll have that espresso right up.” 
She waves a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it, doll. I’ll get it next time.” She winks at you. 
“Next time it’s on the house,” you say. She laughs like it’s some sort of inside joke. Granted, if she keeps tipping like she does, you could buy yourself a new computer in no time. 
You still don’t know why she’s doing it. You open your mouth to say something, maybe ask her what she’s doing here, but she cuts you off. 
“I have to go. I’ll see you later?” She asks, sounding slightly hopeful. 
“You know where I’ll be,” you answer, feeling a longing pang in your chest as her face lights up at your cheesy comment. 
“Sorry about your laptop,” she adds before she sticks another $20 in the tip jar. You gape at her as she smirks and walks out. She is quite literally just throwing cash at you. 
And it doesn’t stop there either. 
You’re just about to finish up your shift when a man walks in, carrying a white plastic bag and a clipboard. 
“Y/n?” He asks, looking at a piece of paper. You affirm and he puts the bag on the counter in front of you. “Sign here, please?” You’re not quite sure what’s happening at all but you do as you’re told. 
Once he walks out of the bakery, you practically tear open the bag to see what’s in it. The first thing you find is a note. 
Hope this will suffice. Let me know if you like it. X, Agatha. And then a number at the bottom. Your mouth drops open and you go back into the bag and pull out a box. You take the top off and inside is a sleek, dark, new MacBook Air. Probably close to a thousand dollars.  
“Holy shit,” you mutter under your breath. You run your hands over the smooth cover and open it up. It blinks to life and you actually laugh out loud. 
Fucking Agatha. You’ve met her three times and she just bought you a brand new computer because you accidentally spilled coffee on yours just that morning. 
Speaking of the older woman. You pull out your phone and type the number into it. 
It’s y/n. Thank you so much for the laptop! You are literally a lifesaver. Is there anything I can do to repay you? I’d give you free coffee and cake for the rest of your life, but I might get fired. Thanks again!  You decide it’s a good mix of gratitude and humor and send it. 
Bubbles immediately appear and you wait with bated breath. 
Finally a response appears and heat courses through your veins. 
Of course, doll, it’s my pleasure. And don’t worry about paying me back just yet. I’m sure we’ll figure something out ;)
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Anyone want to be my sugar mommy lol
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classyrbf · 13 hours ago
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PERSONAL TRAINER! — GOJO SATORU
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SYNOPSIS...just some small little nsfw headcanons about personal trainer!gojo hehehe
INFO...personal trainer!gojo x fem!reader, gojo is touchy and pervy, sex in a gym, sex in the showers, oral (f!receiving), rough sex, praise, nipple play, not proofread
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
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personal trainer!gojo who you have the fattest crush on. You didn’t expect your personal trainer to be the hottest guy you’ve ever laid eyes but here you are
personal trainer!gojo who claims he’s a hands on trainer, demonstrating moves and helping you adjust your position and posture
personal trainer!gojo who is right behind you as he bends you over to make you touch your toes, his large hands on your as he pushes you down further and further “You got it…there we go. Yeah, good job.” You swear you almost melted right then and there
personal trainer!gojo who begins to compliment you everytime you walk in the gym, noticing how you always have your matching set on and how he can tell the workouts are really starting to shape your body like you hoped
personal trainer!gojo who gets you all hot and bothered when he’s doing push ups shirtless, sweat dripping down his godlike body, his grunts and groans filling your head with such perverted thoughts that you had to excuse yourself to the bathroom
personal trainer!gojo who pretends like he doesn’t know he has an affect on you, purposely doing what he does just so he can see you get all flustered and riled up, he thinks it’s so cute
personal trainer!gojo who has you two do a late night workout session with only you two in the gym, you come in with your matching set and water bottle with a smile on your face, not a single thought behind those eyes on what he plans to do with you
personal trainer!gojo who makes you lay on your back and stretch your legs upward and toward your chest, his hands gripping your calf and pushing back, hovering over you as hiss at the stretch. “You can take it, I know you can.”
personal trainer!gojo who notices you look away from him, avoiding eye contact as he pushes your leg further and further, his hips pressed up right against your throbbing heat. His hands glide down to your thighs now, tossing your legs over his shoulders. He knows exactly what he’s doing
personal trainer!gojo who has you leggings ripped open minutes later with his thick cock shoved inside your pussy, pounding you into the gym floor while you cry out his name
personal trainer!gojo who’s got you bending in all types of positions, each one making your eyes roll back at the way he hits that spot deep inside you. “This is what we were practicing for, sweetheart.” His chuckle sends chills down your spine
personal trainer!gojo who has cum around his cock so many times you can’t even form words, mindlessly babbling before you’re squirting around his cock again, screaming in pleasure
personal trainer!gojo who eats pussy like a champ, slurping, licking, spitting all over it while he moans at your taste and scent. He’s got your legs pushed back all the way to your chest as his tongue expertly circles your puffy clit, taking one of his long, thick fingers to rub against your g-spot
personal trainer!gojo who even fucks you in the showers, hot water cascading down your skin, his hands mushing your face up against the wall while he fucks you like a slut but tells you how much of a good girl you are for taking him so well
personal trainer!gojo who loves your titties so much, always cupping them, squeezing them, twisting your cute perky nipples until you’re a whining mess
personal trainer!gojo who is still your personal trainer despite everything that happened between you two, allowing you to come over his house to workout instead of the gym just so he can have you all to himself and fuck you whenever he wants
personal trainer!gojo whose idea of cardio isn’t running or walking, no, he just ends up fucking you in his bed for several hours until your both dazed and drunk off of sex
personal trainer!gojo whose only plan now is to train you to take his cock until you become absolutely addicted to the way he stretches you out and makes you cum so hard
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lupinqs · 1 day ago
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CRUSH CULTURE ━━ paige bueckers x reader
☆ ━ summary: paige has a hopeless crush on you, a cheerleader.
☆ ━ word count: 5.4K
☆ ━ warnings: alcohol consumption, kissing, this one’s tame
☆ ━ links: my masterlist, inspired by this request (lol i know this was forever ago)
☆ ━ author’s note: hiii i hope y’all enjoy—lemme know if you guys want a part 2 and if so send in ideas for it!!! i have been hopelessly uncreative recently!!! also yes i have been writing tmtc and safe and sound i promise—new chapter of tmtc should be out sometime this weekend, no idea on safe and sound because goddamn that fic takes me forever to write
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PAIGE HAS ALWAYS noticed you—though, funny enough, at first it wasn’t because you cheered. That part didn’t even register until her junior year, when she started paying attention to things off the court. But she’d first noticed you back in her sophomore year, in that one class she didn’t feel like she needed at all. She’d often zone out, either doodling in the margins of her notebook or letting her eyes drift around the room as she let her mind wander. Her gaze would skip over classmates until, one day, it stopped on you.
And, God, she remembers that moment. The way she’d blinked, like she needed to reset her brain for a second because… well, you. It wasn’t anything specific, nothing she could even name at the time. But there was this something about you that made her stomach flip. From then on, whenever she zoned out, her eyes would find you before she even realized it. You’d be focused on your notes or lost in thought, completely unaware, and Paige would catch herself staring just a little too long.
She’d think about talking to you, but for some reason, you made her nervous. And that wasn’t something Paige was used to feeling—not with girls. She’d been confident her whole life, even a little cocky when it came to flirting, and her reputation certainly proceeded her. But with you, all of that confidence vanished. Her brain would go blank, her hands would fidget, and her heart would pound just watching you, sitting across the room. The idea of walking up to you, striking up a conversation, felt almost laughable. You’d somehow managed to turn her, Paige Bueckers, into a stammering mess with just a look.
And then there was the other part—the part that kept her from making a move even when she managed to work up the nerve. You looked so…straight. She knows it’s a stupid assumption, but something about the way you carried yourself—she’d convinced herself that you had to be straight. Maybe it was the way you fit in with the other girls, how they flocked around you like they were all in some effortlessly straight, picture-perfect group. Whatever it was, Paige felt certain you’d never look at her the way she looked at you.
So she let it go, or at least, she tried to. But you kept slipping into her thoughts, distracting her in that class, making her mind wander back to you when she least expected it. Her silly little crush on you lingered all through sophomore year, and even when summer rolled around, she found herself thinking of you every now and then, imagining what it might have been like to know you outside of that class.
Then junior year rolled around, and her whole world changed with that ACL tear. Benched for the season, her focus shifted in ways she never anticipated. Instead of charging down the court, she found herself sitting on the sidelines, watching, observing things she normally wouldn’t have noticed. And it was during one of those games, one of those long, frustrating nights when she just wanted to play, that she saw you again—this time, on the court as one of the cheerleaders.
At first, she couldn’t believe it. She actually had to blink a few times, like her brain was trying to catch up with what her eyes were seeing. This was her third year at UConn, and she hadn’t noticed you were a cheerleader ever. Maybe she really was just unobservant, but it truly shocked her. You looked completely different from how you did in class—more animated, more alive, like you were in your element. And when you started that long, impressive tumbling pass down the court, her jaw dropped. She didn’t even know you could do that, and it left her staring, heart hammering in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. (And maybe the tiny little uniform helped speed it up, too.)
From then on, Paige couldn’t keep her eyes off you during games. She’d always find herself watching you, wondering if you’d somehow feel her gaze, hoping that maybe, just once, you’d look her way. She spent so many games like that—sneaking glances, letting her mind wander, imagining what it might be like to finally work up the nerve to talk to you. But game after game, you never seemed to notice her, too focused on your routines, your teammates, and the cheering crowd around you.
And Paige? She knew she was hopelessly stuck. She’d sit there on the sidelines, feeling ridiculous, pining after a girl she couldn’t even talk to, a girl she thought she’d never really have a chance with. It was her worst crush yet—the kind that left her feeling off-balance, stumbling over her own thoughts, trying to convince herself that it didn’t matter—and she’d never even spoken to you. But each time she saw you out there, smiling, moving with that same effortless grace, she’d feel that same pull, that same quiet, persistent ache.
It’s senior year now, and Paige has one thing on her mind: basketball. It’s been more than a year since she’s played, and she’s determined to make this season count. All summer, she told herself the same thing over and over: Stay focused. Don’t get distracted. No more drifting thoughts, no more daydreams, and absolutely no more pointless crushes on girls she can’t have. And especially no crushes on you.
You, the cheerleader she’d spent too many junior year games staring at from the sidelines. You, the girl she still thought about when her mind wandered late at night, even though she knew better. No, this year, she was locking in. She’d worked too hard, too long, to let her head get all twisted up over you again. She was here to play basketball, not to chase after some unattainable crush.
But as she jogs onto the court for warm-ups, trying to ignore the butterflies that come with her first game back, her eyes somehow find you anyway. Just like they always do. And it’s like no time has passed at all. You’re laughing with the other cheerleaders, your hair perfectly styled in a half-up-half-down, a bow nestled in it, your uniform hugging you just right. The lights catch on your skin, giving you this soft glow, and your smile—God, that smile, so open and sweet and painfully distracting—has her heart skipping a beat before she even realizes it. Paige quickly snaps her eyes away, reminding herself she’s here to play, not to get lost in some imaginary world where she has a chance with you. This is her first game back, and even if it’s just an exhibition against Dayton, she’s got to make it count.
With a deep breath, she manages to brush you off. The pregame excitement kicks in, and her focus sharpens as the game begins. And it’s everything she’s been waiting for—the sounds of the court, the rush of the crowd, the thrill of moving with the ball in her hands again. She’s finally back, and for the first quarter, she’s locked in, feeling the rhythm of the game, feeling unstoppable.
Then it happens. KK makes a bad pass, and Paige is already in motion, chasing down the ball to save it from going out of bounds. She dives, stretching to reach it, but it’s just out of reach. Before she can stop herself, she’s crashing full speed into the sidelines—right into the cheerleaders.
Right into you.
The impact is quick and jarring, and she scrambles to her feet as fast as she can, heart hammering in her chest. She’s prepared to rattle off an apology when she realizes who she’s just barreled into. You’re significantly smaller than her, and her stomach drops as she takes in your wide eyes and the faint wince that flickers across your face. But you handle it with the same grace she’d always admired from afar, waving her off with a laugh and saying, “It’s fine! You’re good!” Your smile is easy, casual, and she’s even more mortified by how sweet you’re being about it.
She tries to apologize again, but you’re already brushing it off with that smile, and she feels her face heating up as she mumbles something unintelligible before hurrying back onto the court. But now her head’s a mess, all her carefully built-up focus gone, replaced by the embarrassing replay of what just happened. She tells herself to get it together, but it’s no use. Her mind keeps drifting back to the look on your face, to the sound of your laugh, to the softness in your smile when you waved her off.
The rest of the game passes in a frustrating blur. She’s off her rhythm, missing open shots she’d normally sink with ease, getting caught in rotations she usually anticipates. By the end, she’s only scored eight points—a painfully low number, especially for her—and she feels the weight of it like a stone in her stomach. She should be thinking about the game, her missed shots, how to get her focus back. But as she sits on the bench, watching the last few minutes tick away, all she can think about is you standing there, laughing off her clumsy collision, looking up at her with that easy, unbothered smile.
So much for not getting distracted.
After the game, Paige is still kicking herself over how sloppy her performance was. She lingers in the locker room, hoping to avoid any unwanted run-ins. But finally, when she’s convinced she’s given it enough time for everyone to clear out, she heads out into the quiet halls of Gampel Pavilion.
Except, of course, her luck isn’t that great. Just as she’s walking out, she spots you—still in your cheer uniform but with a UConn sweatshirt thrown over it, heading down the hall, cheer bag on your back. Her first instinct is to turn around, bolt back into the locker room, and hope to avoid any more humiliation, but it’s already too late. You look up, and your eyes meet, and suddenly she’s frozen in place, panicking because she’s actually staring straight into your eyes.
And then you smile at her. That smile, the one that sends her brain into a meltdown every time. But it’s so much worse now because your smile is directed at her. And, suddenly, you’re walking up to her and saying, “Hey, good game tonight,” and Paige is pretty sure her heart has stopped.
She tries to seem casual, to play it cool, but all she can manage is a shrug and a half-hearted, “Eh, wasn’t my best.” She’s hoping you don’t notice her stutter, but her cheeks are burning, giving her away.
You just wave it off, your dimple showing as you grin up at her. “Nah, this was just your warm-up. You haven’t played in, like, over a year. Next game you’ll drop thirty.”
Paige blinks, and the fact that you know she’s good at basketball—even though everyone knows she’s good at basketball—is enough to send her into a coma, she thinks. “Oh, gosh,” she says, rubbing the back of her neck, struggling to find words. “Gonna have to now, just for you.” The second it’s out of her mouth, she mentally facepalms. That totally sounds like she’s trying to flirt with you.
But you just laugh, eyes crinkling as you look at her, completely unfazed. “I’ll hold you to it,” you say, and that smile doesn’t waver.
There’s a pause, and Paige knows this is where you’re about to say goodbye, and she panics because, after two years of thinking and practically obsessing over you, she’s finally talking to you, and it feels too short, too fleeting. Before she can second-guess herself, she blurts, “Oh—uh, hey, about earlier… when I ran into you. I’m… really sorry about that.”
You shake your head, smiling even wider, brushing it off with an easy laugh. “Don’t worry about it. Happens all the time; more than you’d think.”
There’s something so casual and warm about the way you say it, and she feels herself relax a little, caught up in the fact that you’re looking right at her, not at all bothered, almost… endeared? And for some reason, seeing your dimpled smile has her stammering like she’s never done before.
“So… uh…” Paige stumbles, her words failing, her confidence gone. “Are you, um, going to Ted’s tonight?” She bites her lip the moment it’s out, but she presses on. “You know, a lot of people go there after the first game—it’s kinda, like, a…thing. Which, y’know, I guess you probably already know about because… you’re, like, not a freshman…” She sounds so stupid. God.
You tilt your head slightly, considering, before you smile at her again. “I wasn’t really planning on going, but…” You pause, looking at her with a bit of a spark in your eyes, and for a second, she feels like she might actually combust. “Should I?”
Paige’s eyes widen, and she’s nodding before she can stop herself. “Y-yes! I—I think you’d have a good time.” She mentally scolds herself for the stutter, but you’re just nodding, still smiling, still looking so effortlessly at ease while she’s a nervous mess.
You laugh softly, a sound she’s sure she’ll replay in her head all night, and say, “Alright. I’ll think about it. And if I do decide to go, I’ll see you there, Bueckers.”
And with one last smile, you turn and walk away, leaving her standing there in shock, her heart racing and her mind replaying every word you just said. She’s tempted to pinch herself, convinced this has to be some elaborate daydream because there’s no way she actually just talked to you.
She doesn’t move for a long moment, replaying the way you said her name, the sound of your laugh, and the chance that she might actually see you tonight.
IT’S LATER in the night at Ted’s, and Paige is doing her best to stay composed, talking with one of the guys from the men’s team. Dirty Shirley in hand, she’s feeling just the faintest buzz, not enough to loosen her grip on reality but just enough to feel the edges of her confidence soften. She’s nodding along to something the guy’s saying when, over his shoulder, she spots you walking in.
Paige’s attention falters as she takes you in. You’re in baggy jeans that hang low on your hips, and a leather tube top that clings in all the right places, dipping enough to make her gaze lower slightly. She can barely tear her gaze away as you head over to the bar with a couple of friends, both of whom Paige recognizes from the cheer team. You’re laughing, leaning into one of them, completely at ease, and she can’t stop watching.
She realizes she’s staring a little too long, so she quickly excuses herself, not to talk to you—God, no, she can’t even think straight around you—but to hide by her teammates before she does something stupid. Her teammates notice her the moment she approaches, grinning as they watch her flustered expression.
“You see who just walked in, P?” Azzi teases, nudging her.
Paige groans, cheeks burning. “Don’t start.”
But they’re all laughing, and Ice is elbowing KK with a smirk. Nika, who’s been listening with a barely disguised grin, rolls her eyes. “Okay, this is ridiculous. You’ve had a crush on this girl since, like, forever. Go talk to her.”
“Are you kidding? I can’t. She’s—” Paige doesn’t even finish the sentence, glancing over her shoulder just in time to see you at the bar, waiting for your drink. She’d be lying if she said her confidence hadn’t evaporated the moment you walked in, looking like that.
“Girl boo,” KK sighs dramatically, before grabbing Paige’s wrist and dragging her toward the bar. Paige stumbles after her, mumbling weak protests, but KK is determined, practically hauling her across the crowded floor until they’re standing right next to you. KK orders a Sprite, leaning casually on the bar and glancing over at you with a grin. “Hey, girly pop! You cheer, right?”
You smile, looking more at Paige than at KK, and Paige’s heart thuds against her ribs. “Yeah, I do,” you say, introducing yourself and holding out a hand to KK, but your gaze flickers right back to Paige, who’s half-hiding behind her friend, cheeks pink and looking slightly caught. “Hi, Paige.”
Paige’s voice comes out a little sheepish. “Hey.”
KK smirks, clearly satisfied, and gives Paige a quick wink before excusing herself, leaving Paige standing there alone with you.
There’s a beat of awkward silence as Paige shifts on her feet, trying to keep herself from looking like an idiot, which is hard considering how aware she is of every single thing about you—your posture, your smile, the way you’re leaning in just close enough that she can catch a faint hint of your perfume.
“So,” Paige says, trying for casual. “You glad you came?”
You tilt your head, your lips quirking up. “Hmm, not sure yet. I’m not too impressed so far.”
She nods, stifling a wince, feeling more awkward than she can ever remember. And yet, her mind’s racing, urging her to just go for it, because this is her moment. She’s Paige Bueckers—she’s supposed to be confident. She always is. Besides, if you’re not interested, at least she’ll know. And if you are…
She hesitates, then swallows, trying to keep her voice steady as she says, “Um… can I buy you a drink?”
There’s a flicker of something in your eyes—maybe amusement, maybe surprise—and she’s mentally bracing herself for you to say no when you glance at the bar and say, “Actually, I just ordered one.” Her heart sinks a little, but she forces a smile, trying to play it off. Of course you’re not interested; she should have known better—
Then you’re leaning closer, nudging her elbow with yours, and you smirk, your voice soft and playful. “But you can buy my next one, if you want.”
Paige’s brain short-circuits as your words settle in, her mouth going dry as she realizes what you just said. “Uh, y-yeah, totally,” she manages, trying to keep from looking as giddy as she feels. “I…I’d love to.”
Your smirk turns into a grin, and you’re looking at her like she’s the only person in the room. She’s trying to come up with something smooth to say when, suddenly, one of your friends pops ups beside you and Paige, tugging on your arm, pulling you off the barstool and towards the crowd with a teasing, “Come on!”
Paige opens her mouth to protest, but before she knows it, you’re being swallowed up into the throng of people—not before you send her a quick, apologetic look over your shoulder, your friend still dragging you. Paige frowns, a little disappointed, but quickly catches herself. It’s fine, she thinks, though a twinge of regret lingers. She pushes it aside, grabbing her drink from the bar and returning back to her table, telling herself to focus on celebrating. She’s finally back on the court, and after such a long, difficult recovery, tonight is meant to be about unwinding. So she does, letting her team hype her up as they cheer and clink their drinks in her honor, pulling her deeper into the night.
As the time passes, Paige’s frustration eases, replaced by a warm buzz that dulls everything except the elation of being surrounded by her friends. But even as she sips her drink, she can’t help but think about where you’ve disappeared to, if you’re still here, still laughing with your friends somewhere across the bar. She finds herself scanning the crowd more than once, looking for a glimpse of you. She tries to push it down, laugh it off with another round, but every time she looks around, her gaze seems to search for you.
Eventually, the heat of the crowded bar gets to her. She feels flushed, dizzy from the alcohol and the mass of people, so she slips out the back door for some air. The cool breeze hits her face, and she closes her eyes for a second, sighing as the sounds of the bar fade behind her. She barely has a moment to herself before she notices a figure sitting just a few feet away.
It’s you, sitting on the curb, looking down at your hands as if lost in thought. Paige blinks, unsure if she’s seeing things. But then you look up at the sound of the door closing and smile, that familiar, gentle smile that makes her heart stutter. You seem just as surprised to see her, but your expression softens, like you’re genuinely happy she’s there. And that’s all the encouragement Paige needs.
“You care if I join?” she asks, trying to sound casual, even though her heart’s racing.
“Not at all,” you reply, and she takes a seat beside you, a bit closer than she planned. She feels your warmth even in the night air, and it makes her head spin in a way she can’t blame on the alcohol.
There’s a pause, a comfortable silence stretching between you. Paige watches as you draw patterns in the gravel with your fingers, the lights from the bar casting a soft glow over your face. She swallows, summoning up the nerve to say something—anything that might keep you sitting here with her.
“Why you out here?” she starts, genuinely curious.
You shrug, glancing back toward the bar. “Got a little claustrophobic in there,” you say, voice soft.
“Yeah… me too,” Paige nods, grateful for the fresh air and this quiet moment with you. The silence returns, but this time, it’s charged, heavy with something she can’t quite put into words.
Finally, Paige finds her voice again, her words slipping out before she can think them over. “You’re a good cheerleader, y’know. You do all those flips and shit—it’s impressive.”
You let out a small laugh, looking away for a second as if flattered. Paige is almost certain she sees a faint blush on your cheeks, and the sight makes her smile a little, lips curving upward. “Didn’t know you really paid attention to the cheerleaders,” you respond, teasing.
Paige scoffs, shrugging as if it isn’t a big deal, even though she feels like she’s been caught in some sort of confession—which, she kinda has. “Well, I did sit out for a year, so… I had to find something to watch.”
You tilt your head, smirking as you ask, “So you chose to watch me?”
Paige’s cheeks warm, and she silently thanks the alcohol for the courage that lets her meet your gaze. “Yeah,” she murmurs, watching as you look away, biting your lip as if trying to hide a smile. The sight makes her heart skip in a way that’s both exhilarating and terrifying.
After a moment, Paige adds, “I think we… had a class together, couple years ago?”
You nod, eyes lighting up at the memory. “Yeah, we did. Sociology, right?” you reaffirm, nodding in tandem with her. “’M surprised you remember that—you always seemed so disinterested.”
Paige nearly blanches, genuinely surprised you’d noticed her too. She didn’t think you’d have remembered her, much less noticed her back then. The notion gives her some of her usual confidence beck and she manages a chuckle, shaking her head and tilting it slightly toward you as she murmurs, “Ah, so you were watching me too, huh?”
You roll your eyes, but your smile betrays you as you nudge her shoulder. “Shut up,” you mutter, but the blush on your face doesn’t go unnoticed.
There’s another pause, the two of you sitting side by side in the quiet, both of you lingering on the edge of something unsaid. Finally, you break the silence, voice soft and hesitant. “How come you never said anything before?”
Paige swallows, the question catching her off guard. She doesn’t know how to answer without giving herself away, without admitting the way her stomach twists every time she sees you around campus. So instead, she asks, turning the question back on you, “How come you never did?”
You don’t seem to mind that she didn’t really give you an answer. Instead, you just shrug, looking down at your hands. “I don’t know… you make me kinda nervous.”
The confession makes Paige’s heart alight, feeling like it’s on fire and might spread throughout her whole body. She’s used to people being in awe of her for basketball, for her skills on the court. But hearing you say that you feel that way too, like she’s someone more than just her reputation, shakes her. Besides, you’ve always seemed so incredibly at ease around her, never even bothering to look her way. So, almost incredulously, she asks, “Why?”
You scoff, looking at her like she’s missing something obvious. “Um, because you’re Paige Bueckers. Basketball prodigy, campus celebrity.” You raise your eyebrows at her. “I think most people would be.”
Paige feels a rush of warmth at your words, the way you say her name like it means something special. She searches your face, feeling the air grow thick around you, heavy with something she couldn’t quite name. And maybe it’s the alcohol in her system, maybe it’s the way you’re looking at her like she’s somehow both intimidating and endearing at the same time, but she’s feeling bold. Bold enough to keep this conversation going, to see where this moment might lead.
She clears her throat, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Well, if it helps… you make me nervous.”
You laugh, a little breathless, clearly surprised. “Yeah, right.”
“I’m serious,” Paige insists. “You ain’t see the way I stuttered around you earlier? Ion know, ma, you just kinda fuck with my head.”
She watches, grin widening, as you blush at her words, the color blooming across your cheeks. It’s addictive, seeing you react like that—because of her. She doesn’t even try to hide her amusement when you ask, gaze set out in front of you instead of on her, “Why would I fuck with your head?”
It’s a good question, one Paige asked herself for a long time. It never took her long to figure out the answer. Though, she’s a little nervous to explain herself.
And she gets even more nervous when your gaze slides back onto hers, your head turning towards her. Paige’s smile falters, just slightly, at the eye contact. It’s intense, the kind that feels like it’s holding the world still for a second. Paige’s heart is a drum in her chest, each beat vibrating through her veins. Her eyes slide across your face, your features, tracing the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips, the faint shimmer glitter swiped along your eyelids. She catalogues every detail as if she’s never going to get this close again—a very real possibility if she doesn’t up her game.
Finally, she leans in—just slightly—her voice low and steady as she answers you. “You got this positive energy that makes you just… stand out in front of a crowd. Big smile. Bright eyes. Mm, I just… like seeing that in people.”
The words settle in the space between you, warm and lingering. Paige hesitates, letting them wrap around you both before adding, her voice dipping lower, her boldness shooting upward, “And it doesn’t help that you’re too beautiful for your own good.”
You blush deeper this time, cheeks tinted more red than pink, and it makes Paige’s heart skip. She can’t help the way her lips twitch into a grin. She’s waited so long to see this—see you flustered because of her. It’s everything she imagined and more.
“Stop,” you protest, fighting a smile as you push at her hands, your tone not carrying any weight behind the word. Paige just laughs, soft and easy, catching your hand in hers before you can pull away. She lifts it slightly, letting her thumb brush over your knuckles as she murmurs, “Nah, really.”
It’s then that the air changes—shifting into something heavier. The space between the two of you is practically nonexistent at this point, your sides tucked right into each other. You’re staring at one another, and Paige can’t help it when her gaze flickers down to your lips, just for a second. But it turns out to be enough. Because then she sees your eyes dart to her mouth in return, lingering there. And that’s when Paige knows.
Still holding your hand, she locks her gaze on yours, her voice firm but soft when she repeats, “Really.”
It’s like that word unlocks something between you because suddenly you’re leaning in, and Paige is doing the same, her breath catching the moment your lips touch hers. It’s soft, tentative at first, like neither of you are quite sure if this is real. But then you press into her just slightly, and Paige swears the whole world tilts on its axis.
The kiss deepens, slow but deliberate, and Paige feels her whole body light up. Your lips are warm, soft, and you taste faintly of tequila and strawberry chapstick. It’s intoxicating, the way you move against her, gentle but with enough purpose to make her head spin. Paige’s hand slides up to cradle your jaw, her thumb brushing against your cheekbone.
Your fingers grab at her bicep, holding on like you don’t want to let go, and it sends a thrill through her. Paige’s lips part slightly, and when you follow, letting her slip her tongue into your mouth, it’s like a fire ignites somewhere deep inside her. The kiss isn’t frantic or messy—it’s unhurried, like the two of you have all the time in the world to explore this. She can feel the heat of your skin where her hand cups your face, and she wants to memorize every second, every sensation.
The way you tilt your head just a little, giving her more access, nearly undoes her. Paige tilts her own in response, deepening the kiss further, her fingers slipping from your jaw to the back of your neck. The touch is light, almost reverent, but the closeness makes her heart race.
Your other hand moves, grazing against her side before resting lightly on her hip. Paige’s stomach flips at the contact, her body leaning instinctively closer to yours. She swears she can feel the warmth of your breath between kisses, the subtle hitch when she nips at your bottom lip.
It’s slow, it’s sweet, but it’s intoxicating. Paige swears she’s never kissed anyone like this before, never felt this much just from simple lip-locking. When you pull back slightly—not breaking the kiss entirely, just catching your breath—she can’t help herself. She follows you instinctively, her mouth chasing yours in a way that feels both vulnerable and utterly fearless. You allow her to, tongues half entwined between your swollen lips.
When you finally part, Paige keeps close, her forehead gently pressing against yours, her hand still cradling your neck. Neither of you moves far, the space between you so small your breaths still mingle, soft and warm against each other’s lips. Paige’s eyes flutter open, but she doesn’t look away from you, her gaze locked on yours like you’re the only thing in the world that matters—which, right now, you might as well be.
Her voice comes out lower than she intends, husky and laced with something she can’t quite hide as she murmurs, “You gonna let me buy you that drink now?”
Your lips curve into a slow, easy grin, and Paige feels her chest tighten, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of it. You’re so close she can see the faint glimmer of mischief in your eyes, the way they soften as you look at her.
“Yeah,” you say, your voice soft but sure, “I’d like that.”
The way you say it, the way your smile widens just slightly after, makes Paige’s heart race all over again. She can’t help the small, satisfied smile that spreads across her face. Paige leans back just enough to take in the sight of you—your flushed cheeks, the way your hair’s slightly mussed, and that lingering, breathtaking smile she knows will haunt her in the best way.
“Good,” she murmurs, her thumb brushing your jaw lightly one last time before she pulls away completely, standing up and offering you her hand. When you take it, she holds on a little longer than necessary, leading you back into the bar, already planning how she’s going to keep you smiling for the rest of the night—and, hopefully, much longer afterwards.
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webbluvrsugar · 2 days ago
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okok, how would rafe treat virgin!reader during her first time?
-🕯️
a/n: aaaaa thank you so much for going all the way to resend your ask! I just loved this and I wanted to do it properly T-T
okay okay, I need to brainstorm about this cause HEAR ME OUT!!!
season one rafe: definitely doesn’t have as much care for you as he should, you probably met him at a party and started fooling around before you finally mention you’re a virgin — he’s startled, but doesn’t mind have virgin pussy for the night. If you really managed to catch his attention, I think he’ll prep you just to see ‘how tight you really are’ because he’s not that sure if you’re bullshitting him or not. Will definitely fuck you on a couch or a bathroom, will be a bit careless and it’ll probably hurt.
season two rafe: you met him through a friend of a friend, it’s more likely that he’ll play with you around a bit, be a bit mean and way more frat-boy likely before he finally decides to kiss you, I think he’d do it everywhere so it’s really up to you, when you confess you’re a virgin, he gets way more excited because now he’ll have something to brag about to his friends, he’ll prep you but he’ll also be rough with you even his movements are a tad bit more calculated.
season three rafe: this time, i think you guys met at a random party but he actually took interest in you, didn’t fuck you there, — he tried not to — somehow got your number and went on a few dates with you, started dating you and after just a few months he’s already started suggesting having sex and when you told him you’re a virgin, he’s way more careful this time, will take his sweet time with you and make it something special.
season four rafe: similar to season three but he’ll be a bit more bold, he’ll eat you out with more confidence and be a little more vocal, he’ll coax you and teach you, and when the pain stopped and you got used to the feeling, you’ll try a few different positions.
a/n: hope you liked it!
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jambalaya-enthusiast · 2 days ago
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hiii!! may i request for headcanons/ an imagine about the crew with a bubbly and cute crew member who playfully; innocently flirts with them? (preferably someone younger than the crew as well, but not minor 😀. say early 20s?) the crew member really is a solid team player and person, but they also just wanna see if they could get the other crew members flustered (and see if they have a chance with them 👀). hope this makes sense! thank you so much! ^^
Flustered;
Crew Members x A young! And incredibly flirty! Reader. [ Reader is not a minor just younger than the crew members]
warnings: slightly suggestive.
Captain Curly
God help this man. He is just trying to keep everyone on the ship happy and secure and was definitely not up for the challenge he was now facing.
A young intern probably like half his age is constantly on the prowl to catch this guy off guard.
He liked you very much already,due to how much of a breath of fresh air you were on that ship,always taking care of stuff. But this? Oh boy.
He's had a fair share of people try and flirt with him,to try and get into his pants,but with you? It's different,very different.
He just couldn't pin point as to what it was about you,the way your words would roll off your tongue like butter.
The way your voice was so sultry and raspy...or was it the way you looked at him that would make his blood run hot.
He was trying, trying so hard to control himself, he's the captain after all.
But lord knows,a man can only control his nerves so much.
Co-Pilot Jimmy
what. the. fuck. ?
no seriously,what the actual fuck? he had no clue in the fucking world as to why someone as fucking drop-dead gorgeous as you was hitting on HIM of all people?
It didn't help how you were like SO YOUNG compared to him.
He thought you were probably joking around,teasing him. To make him feel like shit. And he started to almost resent you for it.
But by god- can someone seriously be THIS PERSISTENT with a joke???
He was on fucking edge all the time,because he simply, couldn't think straight whenever you would hit on him.
A part of him just wanted to snap and makeout with you in an instant,but he was just holding it together,for the sake of who knows what.
But patience always runs out, doesn't it?
Nurse, Anya
This poor,poor girl.
She already was stressed due to how things were going on.
she couldn't handle a young intern, who also happened to be a bit too, attractive was hitting on her.
she got so flustered that you had to apologise on several occasions.
She admired how you were so efficient at your job,always making sure to get things done.
But she always stuttered whenever you would pull those one liners on her.
The nurse was falling,and she was falling hard.
Mechanic, Swansea
he isn't paid enough to deal with this shit.
sure,he appreciated how useful and competent you were compared to his other intern.
But was the price of your competency...uhh this?
Flirting with a guy who's old enough to be your dad?
He would just shrug all of your advances off,just shooing you away whenever you tried to pull any crap.
but he's also..just a guy,lord help him wanting to indulge in some good ol' flirting.
The old man is trying his best,he is.
Mechanic Intern, Daisuke
Is this his lucky day? Another intern,just a little younger than him,was hitting on him?
HE WAS ON ANOTHER PLANET. ( No pun intended )
He would get incredibly shy and flustered tho, he's not used to this.
It doesn't help just how pretty you are. He's not even used to talking to pretty people.
He was just trying to pull his big boy pants up and face you like a true man.
But he would always just melt away at your words.
He wants to ask you out so badddd but he's scared that you're just casually flirting with him.
Seems like you're gonna have to make the first move.
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yanderenightmare · 17 hours ago
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Gojo Satoru & Geto Suguru
♡ TW: fear, prank, prank gone too far, dubcon-ish
♡ GN reader
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“Haha, ‘Toru—nice try,” is all you say to the tall figure, having stood patiently in wait and perfectly positioned to do a jump scare with his silly store-bought Ghostface mask on.
You sigh and go back to your dealings, and he remains as if the gist isn’t up—ever-committed to the task as if you’re suddenly going to forget that it’s him. Like—of course, it’s him! Despite what the movies will have you believe, not a lot of guys have bodies like that.
If he was really committed to tricking you, he should have worn something baggier to hide his perfectly shredded chest. But no—he’s set on wearing his black muscle shirt—probably opting to make you both scared and horny at the same time.
You carry on with what you’d been doing—cleaning up the kitchen. “Oi, quit standing there already and come help me.”
He doesn’t. But that’s not unlike him—he’ll take any excuse not to do the dishes. And right now, the excuse is this dumb prank. But it’s your fault in any case—you’re the one that put him up to it by saying he’d never be able to get a rise out of you.
You sigh and scold yourself for being so short-sighted—should’ve kept my dumb mouth shut. Knowing him, he’s probably going to be this way all through October, the insufferable prick.
He still stands there. Silent. And still. Eerily unlike him. And almost, just almost, utterly unlike him.
But no—don’t be stupid! He’s the same height and the same build, for fuck’s sake! What are the odds of someone with the exact same measurements as your boyfriend breaking in right at the time he isn’t around in something so cliche and dumb as a Ghostface replica? No, it stinks of Satoru—it’s got his goofy antics written all over it.
You scoff again—a little winded this time, a little strained. You have to hand it to him—he is a little scary when he shuts up for this long.
“You can knock it off, Satoru. I know it’s you.” You face him again, hand on your hip, with a frown. 
You sigh again when he still doesn’t answer, insisting on his stupid tactic of psyching you out. And you’re getting pissed that it’s actually almost working.
“Ugh, you’re so stupid.” You start stomping over—aiming to rip that dumb thing off his head and point your death glare directly in his insufferable blue eyes—those insufferable blue eyes you’re actually starting to hope are under there more than knowing without a doubt are there for sure. 
“Tch—it’s insulting if you think some half-assed performance like this is gonna be enough to scare me. At least have the creativity to come up with something somewhat decent–”
You stop in your tracks halfway over. Hair is peaking out from under the mask. You hadn’t seen it from afar, matted against the black shirt he was wearing—but how could you? How could you when it’s not white hair?
You flinch backward. Stumbling. Assessing the dark, silken locks a second time before looking up at the mask again—that soulless white warped skull with pitch-black bottomless eyesockets.
You take another step back. Breath hitching in your throat when the figure takes a step as well—toward you.
Your heart flares. It’s not Satoru.
Eyes peeled, you feel the panic overthrow you in an instant—like a cold rush, reaching all the way into your bonemarrow, making it hard to move, hard to do much of anything without feeling vulnerable to what it might trigger.
But once the figure pulls his hand out from behind his back, brandishing a butcher’s knife that catches the light and glints in the air—you have no other choice but to run.
What a perfect fucking day to wear fuzzy fucking socks! Fucking October cold is going to be the reason you die—stabbed to death in your own house by some cringey Scream fanboy. No—this can’t be the end—not this way! Why isn’t Satoru home yet? Why can’t he ever be where you need him to be?
You make your way through the house—hoping to reach the door, but turning the corner has you slip and fall, and the intruder’s on you—knife raised, poised prettily in the air above your helpless body, clad in your tiny heart-print pj’s—like the perfect hot airhead in any slasher spoof.
You scream and squeeze your eyes shut, “No! No—please! Please! Satoru, help!”
And right as the knife is supposed to come down and puncture your chest, making it spurt out red until you finally bleed out, dead and gone, there’s a bang instead as two palms land flat on the floor on either side of your head.
Joined by a muffled voice, “Are yah scared yet?”
With your eyes wide open again, you look up at not one mask blocking out the ceiling light but two. And with all the pure alarm savaging your chest, you manage to let out a real horror-movie squeal—unlike a sound you’ve ever made before.
And then, of all things, there’s laughter—no, not laughter—straight cackling.
And—fortunately or unfortunately—you’re quite sure you recognize that sound.
The last one pulls off his mask, and you really can’t believe it—pretty porcelain face squished in amusement with tears of joy in the corner of his insufferable blue eyes.
That fucking bitch.
“You should have seen your face!” he chortles—downright heaves. But for all his handsome features, he truly must be the ugliest laugher there is. Or maybe it’s just that the bastard always laughs at your expense, and after one too many times, it’s left a bad taste in your mouth.
Still, you sigh, eyes closed in relief, “I hate you, ‘Toru. You took it way too far, you ass.”
“No, no, Satoru, help~” he ignores you and mocks in a high-pitched moan, showing not a sign of remorse—holding his hand over his stomach as he falls to the floor, struggling to leave room for breath between hooting and howling.
Your eyes go to the original perpetrator. “And you? You proud or what?”
The wearer pulls off its mask and is revealed to be none other than Satoru’s best friend—Geto.
Honestly, you should have fucking known...
“Sorry, hehe…”
You’re upset—you make that clear with your pout, giving him your best guilt-tripping look from where you rest beneath him.
But still, within, your heart eases at the sight of his kind face and that apologetic smile across it—ever thankful to see him and not the cold-blooded murderer you were convinced was going to kill you only a moment ago—even when pinned beneath him in a position that should be making Satoru jealous.
But your boyfriend couldn’t care less, it seems—too busy rolling on the floor and laughing out loud quite literally, even banging his fist against the wood. Prick.
“I’m gonna throw up–” you say as the nerves finally settle. “And when I’m done, I’m gonna kill you. Both of you.”
Geto seems to think that’s fair, still with that sheepish smile on his face, but Satoru is quick to interject—laughing fit over as he shakes his head, “Nuh-uh. You said if I manage to scare you once this Halloween, I’d get whatever I want.”
You swear he can be such a child sometimes.
Oh, who are you kidding? He’s always a child. It’s only surprising he’s managed to rope Geto into all this—a guy who’s usually so mature.
“I don’t remember saying that…” you sigh, laying the back of your hand atop your forehead, still calming your breaths and the pounding in your head—your body not yet caught up to the fact that it’s trepidation over impending death was all just some silly joke played on you by two idiots.
You can’t believe him—you can’t believe either of them.
“Fucking shit, Geto—I thought I was gonna die.”
He still hasn’t gotten off you—the look of worry on his face tells you he’s probably just wanting to stay close to make you feel safe. You appreciate it, though it’s a little awkward lying beneath him like this—it’s not exactly a position you share with just anyone…
“Honestly, I didn’t think it would work,” he says—eyes slim like always, in that charming way. “I always thought you were smarter than to fall for something this stupid.”
You pull a frown at that—taking it all back. He’s as childish and dumb as Satoru is. He’s just better at hiding it. 
“Oh, shut up—as if you wouldn’t scream if someone chased you down with a knife,” you grumble. “Now get off, you prick.”
You begin to lift yourself onto your elbows, yet despite the clear intention of getting up, Geto doesn’t budge to make it happen.
No, instead, he leans further in—fine-kempt raven hair slipping off his shoulders, falling with the same grace as a veil.
“I was told there’d be a prize for the one that got you to crack, and seeing as I’m the one that made that happen—I want it.”
You have to blink—blanched at the sudden demand.
Satoru, as well, a little stunned—looking wide-eyed at the two of you, upside down where he lies flat on his back, long limbs stretched out like a starfish.
“You what now?” both of you ask in unison.
Geto chuckles before repeating, “My prize. I want it. It’s only fair,” as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 
Satoru rolls over on his stomach to view you both the right way, pursing his lips in thought. “Hmm…” Hand on his chin as if it’s really something to deliberate when the dumbass very well knows what the two of you had bet on and how it very much isn’t a reward you can give to just anyone.
Yet, despite that. “Okay,” he agrees—as if it’s even up to him.
“Hold on now, wait a minute.” You intervene in the almost business-esque dealing they’d somehow held without you. "Not happening.”
“Why not?” they both ask, looking at you. 
And you can’t keep from gaping. The nerve.
Spluttering as you explain, “Because it’s—well, because it was a bet between me and my dumbass boyfriend, and it was very clear what the prize was gonna be, come winner or loser—so, sorry to break it to you, but there is no prize.”
But that doesn’t seem to deter Geto. “Oh, I think there is…” he all but purrs as he leans down further.
“Satoru already agreed. And you’re already on your back beneath me.”
His smile isn’t all so friendly anymore, and still… you can’t help but blush being caught beneath it, holding your breath with fear a little different from the one before but no different in how it makes your heart pound.
“So, if neither of you mind…" he grins slyly. "I think I’ll just take it.” 
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♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ GETO SUGURU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist
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starryjake · 2 days ago
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thinking about toxic situationship!heeseung :(
you’re by far his favorite out of all the girls he fucks but he’s too cocky to let you know that. in the back of your mind, though, you know. you can’t imagine that he takes his other girls out for late night ramen or lets them sit on his lap and watch him play video games.
you can’t imagine he’s as gentle and sweet during aftercare with anyone else. in fact, you really hope he isn’t. you hope he kicks out all the other girls he sleeps with as soon as he’s done with them. you hope that he doesn’t let them spend the night like he does with you, even going as far as to make you breakfast or take you out the next day.
every time he’s with another girl, he can’t stop thinking about fucking annoying they are and can’t help himself from comparing them to you. he knows you would be so much better: better at sucking his dick, better at riding him, just your pussy in general was better.
he’d text you when he was hanging out with other girls, not even waiting for them to leave the room but doing it right next to them. he didn’t care if they could see, even when he was texting you about how bad they were and how he wished he were with you instead.
heeseung: this blows
y/n: whys that?
heeseung: bc she isn’t you baby
y/n: you could always leave and come over :)
heeseung: aww my girl wants me to ditch this chick and come fuck her instead? is that what you want, little princess?
y/n: fuck hee…please :(
he could not say no to you. 10 minutes later and he’s ditched the random girl he was with and was instead pounding you into your mattress, grunting loudly as you clenched around him.
“fuck yeah, baby,” he moaned, hips drilling into you. “you’re such a good girl. so much fucking better than anyone else.”
and you took it so well, eating up every last word.
he also loved that you didn’t talk to any other guys. you just wanted him and only him so, so badly, and maybe if he did relationships, he would choose you to be his girlfriend. but, he didn’t date and he made sure you were aware of that from the start your situationship. but the point was, he loved that you were still loyal to him, not even wanting to talk to another guy because they just weren’t heeseung. no one did it like him.
no one ate you out until you were squirting everywhere and shaking like he did. no one fucked you until your eyes were rolling into the back of your head and drooling onto his sheets like he did. no one made you feel like passing out from intense pleasure like heeseung.
you liked him. you were probably in love with him. you hated knowing he saw other girls and he loved knowing it made you upset. he loved knowing that you liked him enough to get so jealous of other girls.
again, he would never tell you that he couldn’t give less of a shit about the other girls. in fact, he would purposely use them just to make you jealous, fucking them for the sole reason of knowing you would hate it. your jealousy was what got him off because it showed that you cared about him, that you wanted him all to yourself.
he thought about you every time he thrusted his cock inside another girl’s pussy. he thought about how much tighter you were than them. how much warmer, wetter, and more delicious you were.
heeseung liked you a lot too. he was also probably in love with you and he realized that when he was finishing on the tits of someone else and moaned out your name instead of theirs.
-
like sorry i just needed to get this off my chest bc heeseung is FUCKING WITH ME TODAY!!
anyway how are y’all? :3
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skepwith · 1 day ago
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[First image: @molochofficial tweets, "one of our better cultural customs is teaching English-speaking children the "Frère Jacques" nursery rhyme and then letting them just go buckwild with vaguely-French sounds."]
[Second image: #WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU GUYS LEARN FRÈRE JACQUES ?????? #LMAOOOOO]
I distinctly remember having fun with "sunnylaymateena" (Sonnez les matines) as a kid. Our French immersion teacher sang the words with exaggerrated enunciation, like we were somehow gonna pick up on "The bells for matins are ringing" as six-year-old anglophones.
One teacher did tell me, quite cheerfully, what the words to "Alouette" meant, and I was Very Disturbed. (It's about plucking a bird. That you're talking to and calling "nice" as you pluck it.)
But I think my greatest heights of French-sounding gibberish came from singing "O Canada" every morning in French. Again, the teachers really tried to enunciate everything, but words like aïeux (forefathers), épopée (epic), and ton front est ceint (your brow is girt) were not in your average elementary-schooler's vocab. As for de foi trempé (tempered by faith), I sang it as deux fois trompé (twice mistaken), which always seemed like a weird thing to put in your national anthem.
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wonderjanga · 2 days ago
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So Ive had this prompt stuck in my head, dunno if you've done it before, but:
Billy unexpectedly powers down due to a villain's weapon. But instead of being, well, scruffy little billy, he ends up looking like a greek child with the toga (?) and all. What would the JL reaction be?
This whole incident started half a year ago with the divine beings in his head arguing about something. Arguing was a surprisingly common occurrence despite the fact that most of these guys were over thousands of years old. He tended to normally tune them out whenever this was happening.
Achilles: “BILLY!”
Marvel: *startles* “Yes, Achilles?”
Achilles: “Chiton or toga?”
Marvel: “Huh?
Mercury: “Chiton or toga? We’re making you a gift. Aren’t we like so kind?”
Marvel: “A gift…?” *sounds weary* “I don’t like the sound of that. What are you planning?”
Zeus: “Nothing!”
Marvel: “Solomon?”
Solomon: “It really is nothing. This will actually aid you in case of any accidents while in field.”
Marvel: “Okay then…”
Hercules: “NOW PICK!”
Marvel: “Alright, alright, dang. Uh… What’s a chiton?”
Zeus: “What’s a- What’s a chiton? I’ve never felt such a shame for one of my children before.”
Marvel: “I’m not your kid, but okay.”
Solomon: “Billy, a chiton is a tunic that was worn traditionally by the Greeks.”
Marvel: “Oooh. Uh… okay then I pick that one.”
Zeus: “Ha ha, suck it Atlas!”
Atlas: “I also wanted him to pick the Chiton…?”
Zeus: “I know. I just don’t like you. I thought that was obvious by now.”
Billy didn’t know that Robin was like five feet away and watching this entire interaction go down. To Damian, this grown ass man was just having a full conversation with himself, oblivious to the world. He reported this behavior to his father later.
Batman: “That’s normal.”
Robin!Damian: “Pardon?”
Batman: “That’s normal for Marvel. Think nothing of it.”
Anyways, fast forward six months. Billy forgot about the gift thing the Gods were talking about. Mostly because they hadn’t even given him the gift. Then the time came when Billy was forced to be detransformed. All because of a stupid villain’s machine going haywire. Sivana could do better. So now, Billy was standing in front of the JL who had surrounded him in a half circle.
(Ancient Greek is in italics)
Billy: “Uh… Hello?” *doesn’t even realize he’s decked out in the Ancient Greek drip, complete with the chiton from earlier*
JL: *staring in befuddlement*
Supes: “He’s been de-aged?”
WW: *steps forward* “Brother?”
Mercury: “Okay, Billy, stare at her for like three seconds and then be like you’re Zeus‘s kin?”
Billy: *doesn’t even know why he’s doing this but does the three second stare* “You’re Zeus’ kin?”
Mercury: “You’re my favorite champion now.”
WW: “I am. I am Diana Prince. It’s a pleasure to meet you. What is your name?”
Solomon: “Thavma is a nice choice.”
Zeus: “So is Keraunos. Which is arguably better because it means lightning.”
Billy: “Thavma, or Keraunos. Either is fine.”
Flash: *whispering to Batman* “Spooky, what’re they saying?”
Batman: “I don’t know. I’m versed in Greek, not Ancient Greek. I can just barely make out an eighth of the words they’re saying.”
Soon after all of this, he was taken to the Watchtower. The JL dropped him off in a rec room and assigned Robin to watch him so the team could go to a meeting room to discuss the whole ordeal.
Robin!Damian: *looking him up and down*
Billy: *can feel the judgment through Robin’s mask* “What is it?”
Robin!Damian: “What?”
Billy: “I said what is it?”
Robin!Damian: “Tt. A language barrier.”
Billy: *frog blinks* “Language barrier…?”
Solomon: “I’ll just turn off the Ancient Greek for you.”
Billy: *clears his throat* “Can you understand me now?” *slight Greek accent still there*
Robin!Damian: “More clearly. Yes.”
Billy: “Cool, now what is it?”
Robin!Damian: “Pardon?”
Billy: “What is it? I can tell you’re staring at me judgmentally through that thing on your face.”
Robin!Damian: *visibly bristles* “I am not.”
Billy: “Yes, you are.”
Robin!Damian: “I am not.”
Billy: “You are.”
Robin!Damian: “Am not.”
Billy: “Yuh huh.”
Robin!Damian: “Nuh uh-” *realizes he let that leave his mouth* “Why are you acting like a child?
Billy: “I am a child.”
Robin!Damian: *stares at him for a couple moments* “The reason I am staring at you judgmentally, is that I had previously assumed you had been born an adult.”
Billy: “Who told you that?”
Robin!Damian: “Nightwing.”
Billy: *remembers he’s not supposed to know who that is* “Who?”
Robin!Damian: “He’s someone you’ll meet when you’re an adult.”
Billy: “Okay…?”
*silence*
Somehow, the two ended up crawling in the vents together. You couldn’t even ask Billy how it happened.
Robin!Damian: “Crawl faster.”
Billy: “I’m trying.”
They spent a while up there, crawling around, eavesdropping, stopping every now and then in the kitchen for snacks.
Robin!Damian: “This is chocolate.” *hands him a chocolate bar*
Billy: *eyes literally shining as he looks at the bar because he rarely gets to have chocolate*
Robin!Damian: “You open it like so.” *opens his own bar* “Now come. We must continue on the move. Back to the vents.”
This went on until the JL started to look for them.
Flash: *searching the rec room frantically because they should’ve been here*
Robin!Damian and Billy: *descend from the vents*
Robin!Damian: “What do you need speedster?”
Flash: *screams*
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suguann · 2 days ago
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✎. you aren’t happy about your roommate’s party until you meet the attractive guy down the hall.
tags. fem!reader, future installments will contain smut, age difference, original characters, college student reader, one-night stands, angst, dirty talk, hurt/comfort, size kink, unplanned pregnancy
featuring. simon
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It’s your first semester living off-campus, and Finn is boundlessly enthusiastic about all things that involve cheap liquor and crowded spaces, even more so now that she roped you into being her roommate after promising to split the cost of furnishing an apartment that’s probably too expensive for two undergrads working part-time, low-pay jobs.
You don’t like parties, really. 
Movies and the social connotations surrounding parties have always made them seem like some monumental proverbial chip in your college experience; the real thing, once the bright-eyed shine of trying something new wears off, is more or less a bunch of random people packed into a room like sardines who abate their social awkwardness with alcohol and loud music.
So, no, you can’t exactly say that you enjoy the thought of Finn’s friends (and everyone she hardly smiles at) cramping up your already tiny apartment—especially when one of them is Miller from one of your business classes, who gives you the creeps. 
And leave it to Finn to invite him, anyway.
"Now he knows where I live," you grumble into your bowl of cereal—something probably too sweet and (definitely) full of sugar for breakfast.
Finn shrugs, not at all worried for you, as she pours more sticky orange batter into the hot pan on the stove. "The guy has a crush on you. I think it's cute. And he seems harmless."
“Harmless until I end up in a ditch somewhere.”
You don’t have to see her face to know she’s doing that thing with her mouth whenever you say something she thinks is ridiculous. “If you’d agree to split the Netflix bill, you wouldn’t be stuck watching horror movies. Why do you only own horror movies, again?”
"That's easy for you to say.” You roll your eyes, ignoring her question. “You don’t have to sit by him every week.”
(As if that would ever convince her to change her mind.)
"Ow! Shit!"
You look up right before Finn drops a steaming pancake onto her hand and rushes to the sink to run it under cold water. The mutilated pancake lay forgotten with the others that didn't survive her last several attempts.
"Finn, I think this is unnecessary," you tell her after swallowing a mouthful of cereal. "Can't you do something more practical? Like sticking a note to their door?"
Finn looks up from the sink, her wild, red curls bouncing from the movement. "Oh, come on! Don't chicken out now. I've already made fifteen of these things." She points her pink spatula at the tower of not-quite pumpkin-shaped pancakes on the counter. "Plus, who's going to turn down free food? Now, go put on your costume and hand these out."
You shovel another spoonful of cereal into your mouth, scowling. "I'm not wearing the costume you picked out. It's so...inappropriate."
You’re pretty sure Finn picked out your costume from the dicey sex shop down the street rather than an actual Halloween store—the amount of mesh compared to solid fabric only solidifies the theory.
Finn finally turns the water off and gives you a stern look, amused eyes set under a furrowed brow. "I can find the one you own in the children's section at Costco."
You roll your eyes. "I really don’t feel like flashing my tits to the neighbors while offering them breakfast.”
She grins, wide and teasing. "You have nice tits, though.”
"Yeah, I'm sure the old woman down the hall would love to see her neighbor in the equivalent of a thong and nipple coverings at the start of her day." You don’t think you’d ever be able to look her in the eye again.
"Miss Yado is cool,” Finn says, returning to the stove to continue cooking. “She'll probably just tell you to wear a jacket or something."
You pick up your empty bowl and lean over the counter to put it in the sink. "I didn't know you talked to our neighbors."
Finn shrugs, flipping the pancake in the skillet. "She normally walks her dog while I'm heading to class. I stop to talk to her sometimes when I'm not running late." 
“Oh?”
She shoots you a wry grin over her shoulder. "You'd know the neighbors too if you didn't scowl all the time."
In response, the corners of your mouth tip down. "I don’t scowl."
"Now, would you go change? These are getting cold." 
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Several minutes later, you come out of your room wearing the same costume you'd worn the past two years. Finn pouts when she sees you forwent the one she had picked out. However, she doesn’t do more than shake her head and shove a handful of food containers full of pancakes into your hands.
“You’ll be fine. Just remember to smile,” she tells you before the front door closes behind you.
You start on your end of the hall, going door to door and handing out the small containers. The whole time, you’re wondering why Finn couldn’t do this herself, considering you’re hardly a people person as is. Thankfully, nobody seemed too annoyed about being bothered on a Saturday morning—only one neighbor shut the door in your face before you could say anything.
But it’s fine. You’re not going to let it ruin your day. Plus, you only have one person left.
There’s a small pit of nerves in your stomach when you knock this time—half expecting another door to the face. What you don’t expect, however, is the tall and imposing guy who answers.
Who also doesn’t appear to be any less annoyed.
Your mouth opens and closes helplessly, all words stuck to the back of your tongue, watching as stray water droplets drip down from his wet hair and travel down the side of his face before dispersing into the dark stubble lining his jaw.
You stare. And stare. Eyes, most likely, bugging unattractively out of your head.
How did Finn never mention the super hot neighbor who lived six doors down the hall?
He gives you a once-over, and part of you suddenly wishes you’d gone with Finn's costume instead. Only because here, at that moment, you’re willing to admit that maybe the one you have on looks like a six-year-old picked it out—especially when this guy, who is way out of your league, scrutinizes it for a second longer, mostly your frilly crew socks. 
"Can I help you?" he asks, his voice low as if he hasn’t been awake for long.
You blink, mild embarrassment rushing through you from the sudden realization that you’ve been standing there and saying absolutely nothing.
"Hi, um, I'm your neighbor from down the hall. My roommate and I are throwing a Halloween party, and we're inviting people in the building." Annoyance slowly melts off his face.
"Thank you,” heavily tattooed arms cross over his broad chest, and he leans against the door frame (and you definitely don’t stare at how his biceps seem to strain against his black t-shirt). “But I think I'm getting a little old for parties."
The corners of your mouth tip up in what’s the beginning of a smile.
"Okay, sure. You're, what, twenty-five?"
It’s a stupid joke, and for a moment, you panic, afraid he’d been unimpressed, but then his lips quirked slightly. "Not quite. Nice costume. Let me guess, fairy?"
"Witch, actually. I’ve always gone with something more original," you babble and bite your lip before you can say something else.
"It’s cute." 
Cute?
You’re unsure if you should feel elated that he thinks so or self-conscious—that he might be making fun of you—so you settle with a mumbled “thanks.”
"So, what's with the container?" he asks, nodding toward your hands.
"Oh, um, my roommate thought she could bribe people with food to come to the party." Truthfully, it’s to prevent potential complaints from the neighbors, but you decide not to mention that part, although you think he knows by the way the corner of his mouth subtly lifts.
You give him the plastic container and watch as he stares into it with a furrowed brow. "It's a... pancake?"
"Er, yeah. My roommate likes to go above and beyond for everything."
"What's it supposed to be?" he asks, glancing up at you.
"Um, a pumpkin..."
You look between him and the container and find Finn had accidentally mixed up her presentable pancakes with the throwaways. And the pumpkin shape is...well, it isn't.
"Ah, I see," he nods, his slowly drying hair falling onto his forehead. "That makes more sense."
You can’t stop the giggle that bubbles to the surface. "You think you can do better?"
"Yes, actually," he grins back, all cocksure, with a flash of white teeth. "Maybe I’ll bring some over some time."
"I won't tell her you said that." However, you can't wait to rib Finn later.
"Right, it probably wouldn't make a very good first impression." Then he sticks out his free hand, "Simon."
You shyly shake it—ignoring the little skip in your chest at how big his hand is compared to yours—and tell him your name, too.
His eyes flicker down to his watch, and he curses under his breath. "Well, it was nice meeting you. But I have to finish getting ready for work."
Only then do you take note of the tactical pants and heavy boots he’s wearing.
When you meet his gaze again, you find amusement there, and you consider, with a new rush of mortification, that it probably seemed like you’d been openly eyeing his crotch. 
You clear your throat, the back of your neck feeling hot, and you pointedly pretend your voice doesn’t hitch when you breathe a soft, tremulous, "Okay, sure.”
"Tell your roommate I said thanks for breakfast."
"Yeah, I'll tell her. Um, I guess I'll see you around." No longer able to make eye contact with him, you turn away and begin walking (though it’s probably closer to running) toward your door.
And you definitely don’t look over your shoulder to see if he’s still standing there.
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You spend most of the party hanging out near the front door, quietly hoping Simon might show up—even though it seems unlikely. After all, he did mention that he’s too old for parties, and a small, insecure part of you wonders if it was his polite way of turning you down.
"The guy was running late,” Finn had tried to reassure you. “I'm sure he was thinking about how to beat expressway traffic before the lunch hour rush hit. Not about the crazy lady in a witch costume running away from his door."
That was the initial deciding factor between your witch costume and the one Finn’s been trying to force you into—only so you don’t have to hear another person call you cute just to seem nice.
And leave it to Finn to jump at the opportunity to help you get ready, though she nearly freaked out when you popped into your joint bathroom with an old tube of mascara that you rummaged out of your nightstand.
"Do you know how many germs are probably on that thing?" Finn’s nose scrunched up as she threw it away in the waste bin near the toilet. "Please tell me you haven't used it since you bought it?"
You had rolled your eyes. "Probably not."
Finn sighed, then smiled. "Luckily for you, I own more than a crusty mascara tube." 
You were about to argue, but when Finn told you to sit on the toilet lid with a dangerously sharp liner pen, you’d clenched your jaw instead, unsure what you were more scared of when Finn brought the pen close to your face: that your friend might potentially stab you in the eye or that you’d come out of the bathroom with raccoon eyes.
Thankfully, when Finn finally finished, neither was the case, except the number of looks you’ve been receiving anytime someone stops in the kitchen to get more drinks is something you hadn’t anticipated—especially when one of them happens to be Miller.
You’ve been avoiding him and his overly bare chest from the moment he walked through your front door. It grew more challenging after Finn left your side (the traitor) to talk to a guy you’ve seen her hanging around with on campus a few times. 
And with the apartment feeling smaller than it already is, you’re only option is to blend in with the group hanging around your kitchen island.
You’ll be fine, Finn said.
Right, you think as you adjust the scanty tube top under your mesh shirt, trying to cover more of yourself with what little fabric you have at your disposal, and you wonder if it’s too late to change—
A knock at the door makes you perk up, regardless of how noisy the room is, with eardrum-shattering music and loud college students. You pull it open, expecting to see Simon on the other side, only to be disappointed when it’s one of Finn’s friends and her girlfriend instead.
"Hey, Roma." You realize you probably sound rude and attempt to give them your best smile—which is more or less a grimace.
Roma smooths out her extremely short referee-style dress. "Sorry, we're late! I couldn't remember where you lived. There are way too many blue apartment buildings around here..."
Everything she’s saying goes in one ear and out the other when you spot Simon stepping out of the door to the stairway across the hall. You hold your breath, waiting for him to look up from his phone.
But he keeps walking.
"Uh, yeah," you say distractedly before speeding up the conversation. "Hey, Finn is in the living room, but I'll see you guys inside, okay? I need to do something."
You step around them to catch up to Simon, which you learn isn’t easy in heels. So you call his name, hoping he hears you and smiling when he turns toward you. And you don’t miss how his gaze trails down your body slowly.
It makes something inside you quiver as you nervously play with the short hem of your skirt.
“Hey,” he says, sounding every bit as tired as he looks—his shirt from that morning now wrinkled with bluish hollows under his eyes—though he tries to hide it with what you think is an attempt at a smile.
And your cheeks burn because you feel guilty. 
"Hey," you repeat dumbly. 
Your eyes lower as his smile melts into one of faint amusement at your lack of tact. You fidget, shifting from one foot to the other. Maybe, you think, you should have let him walk into his apartment before you could embarrass yourself further today.  
After a moment, you meet his gaze again. 
"Uh, I just wanted to see if you still wanted to come over…But I imagine you're probably not up for it, so I’ll leave—"
Simon surprises you when he shrugs his shoulders and says, "Sure."
Your mouth gapes, unsure if you heard him correctly. "Wh-what?"
"I just need to shower and change, and then I'll be over. Okay?"
"I... yeah, okay," your nod is shy, trying not to betray eagerness.
A lazy grin stretches across his mouth. "Nice costume, by the way," he disappears into his apartment before he can witness how his words make you flush.
And you walk back to your apartment feeling a little more floaty than when you left.
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mlyscha · 3 days ago
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↳ DO YOU FEEL... BONITA? ⭑
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𝓼ynopsis. in which you replace their chap-stick for a red lipstick. the question is: do they feel bonita? 𝓹airing. enha!member x female!reader. 𝓰enre. fluff, crack, kind of suggestive at jay's part, trendy. 𝔀arnings. curse words, mention of having a period, mentions of food, riki's kind of mean? , not proofread, english is not my 1st language. 𝔀𝓬. 2k+ 𝓶asterlist.
♡ 𝓪melie's 𝓷ote: this scenario ended up being super basic, i feel bad for you guys (๑-﹏-๑) i haven't been really active, so i wanted to post something decent, but... i don't know, you guys tell me if this one wasn't the greatest lol also, i wanted to share a new word i learned a few days ago: therefore! now you might even see this word being casually used on my writings ><
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― 𝓱eeseung: suspects... a lot.
"babe, are you leaving already?" you pouted, watching him picking up his wallet and checking his phone; expecting a text from enha's group-chat. "yeah, i'm actually running late," he chuckled. "they arrived?! 'kay, a kiss for you miss, before i'm gone." he kisses your lips and heeseung notices your nose scrunched. "what?" seeing him frown, you decide it was the perfect chance for you to hand him your special chap-stick. "your lips are kind of crusty, here," you notice an even more confused face expression coming from him. "what do you mean... crusty?" "just apply it! it'll surely make it better!" you explain, making him sigh and finally apply the red lipstick all over his lips - making him look like a clown. "okay, can i go now, princess?" you nod and he smiles, giving you a small peck before finally leaving.
an hour later you heard the door being snapped open, and that's when you knew: heeseung learned about the lipstick. "y/n! why would you do this?!" a sudden shout echoed through the walls of your shared home. "heeseung? baby?" you appeared, coming out of the kitchen with a mischievous grin. "what happened?" you asked, holding a innocent voice. "what have you done to my lips, y/n?!" his face expression was a mix of embarrassment and worry. "what do you mean? you look-" you let out a stifled laugh. "fine! you look fine!" "baby, no way this" he points to his red stained lips. "looks fine! the boys started to laugh at me and i didn't know why! even riki made fun of me!" your boyfriend whined with embarrassment. "now i know why the waiter started to look at me with a funny face..." "i still think you look handsome with your red lips." "IT'S RED LIPSTICK?!"
long story short: heeseung couldn't trust when you gave him a chap-stick EVER. he always makes sure to check the colour of it and even learned a trick to double check it: by pulling you for a kiss. and what can i say... you may have been caught a few many times.
― 𝓳ongseong: couldn't care less.
you were brave enough to make your boyfriend apply chap-stick while going out on a date night with him. in the car you told him his lips were looking kind of dry, and knowing where and how this night could turn out, he immediately took the chap-stick you handed him, applying all over his lips ― with abundance, highlighting even more the red lipstick you purposely replaced. arriving at the front, jongseong handed the valet parking his car keys, entering the restaurant with you. when both of you walked into the place, the waitress who works at the front door couldn't stop staring at your boyfriend; and you swear that if he wasn't wearing such an scandalous colour of lipstick you would assume she was flirting with jongseong.
anyway, after some good wine and a delicious meal course, you were sat beside jongseong, half of your back was falling to his side ― close to his chest. meanwhile, his arm was hugging your shoulder while holding your right hand, a romantic and intimate position to stay. your boyfriend would place kisses onto your forehead. during this whole intimate moment, you decided to make him apply more lipstick since it was fading. however, after a few minutes, you realised he won't notice it, so you took matters to your own hands, pulling your phone from your purse and asking for a picture. agreeing, you opened the camera app, revealing his subtle red lips.
"what is this on my lips?" he gently touched his lips. "what do you mean?" you turned your head to look at him, pretending to be curious. "sweetheart, what have you done?" jongseong asks you with a small grin, dropping his head to the side, shooting you heart eyes. you chuckle, amused. "i didn't do anything," you shrug. "you may have kissed the waitress, she is wearing red lipstick." he laughs out loud, leading to a few confused sights laying on both of you. "this red lipstick might stain your lips soon..." he whispers against your lips. "i can't take you seriously right now!" you giggle and he smirks, amused.
― 𝓳aeyun: "your daddy feels bonita, layla"
jaeyun enjoys going out for a walk with his daughter: layla. and usually, both of you go out together, and this time couldn't be different. however, the only difference this time was your boyfriend's red stained lips. you told him, while walking, that you've been using this new chap-stick and commenting on how much your lips have looked and felt more hydrated ― even jaeyun agreed. therefore, you pulled the famous chap-stick out of your jean's pocket and handed him, making him a bit startle from the way you casually pulled it out of your pocket right after finishing talking about it. you noticed he pondered a bit before applying it all over his lips. you smiled while he was doing so, finding this situation amusingly cute. he smacked his lips together, commenting after a surprised hum: "it's actually good, i can already feel my lips hydrated!"
layla began to feel tired, so did you and jaeyun, so, spotting a bench nearby, you sat beside your boyfriend while layla sat on the floor. and if this couldn't get better, your little family stopped at a crowded park, so as people passed by, jaeyun couldn't be ignored. "babe, why's there so many people staring at me? even girls! don't they see i am taken?!" he complained while pouting, hugging your arm. "right baby?- why are you laughing?" he frowned, even more confused when he saw you taking a sneaky picture of him. suddenly, a kid shouts: "look, mum! a clown!" the mum stares at you, at your daughter and then at your boyfriend, and she were clearly holding herself and not burst out of laughter. layla begins to woof at the kid, and you say: "calm down, baby, your daddy feels bonita, layla." "what does this even means-"
minutes later he discovered what that meant. ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ )
― 𝓼unghoon: he has a convenience store phobia now.
you were craving something sweet in the middle of the night since your period has started, so you asked you gently asked your boyfriend to go to the convenience store for you and buy you a sweet treat. sunghoon, feeling a bit upset, agreed, since he felt afraid you wouldn't be able to feel better soon. with that, he covered himself with warm coats as you told him so. however, before he left you told your boyfriend to apply some chap-stick ― telling him the cold weather could break his lips. he simply nodded, asking you to apply it for him and you did it perfectly ― since he were sweet for going to the convenience store for you under the cold weather and at night. you stole a kiss from him before he was gone, trying your best to quickly turn your face away from him because your lips might have been stained by the colour of his.
"i am never coming back to that convenience store ever again." "oh, hey, baby," "y/n, why does my lips look red?!" sunghoon questioned with terror. "what do you mean?" you dropped your head to the side, faking a confused feeling. "y/n, the cashier was looking at me funny and even an old lady was staring at me like i was crazy!" your boyfriend explained, holding two plastic bags full of your sweet treats. "and then, i could not notice them staring at me, so the moment i stepped out of that place i pulled my phone and checked myself and i saw this... i mean, there were many reasons why they could be staring at me, and usually is because i am handsome, not this!" he points to his face entirely. you giggled as you felt his desperation. "you are so cute, i love you, even with your red lipstick." you kiss him on the cheek. "i am killing myself." he says with the most serious face ever, plopping on the sofa. "well... more chocolates for me." you shrug.
― 𝓼unoo: silly lovers hehe.
you watched this trend of replacing chap-stick for lipstick go viral everywhere, so you decided to try it out with your boyfriend. so, when both of you were sat on the sofa, you asked him for a kiss, and when he gave you one, you scrunched your nose and commented: "your lips are dry, let me get you a chap-stick!" he frowned, knowing that his lip care routine is amazing. but anyway, he couldn't reply it to you since you were already gone picking up that chap-stick. you came back holding it in your hand and sitting back on the sofa. "okay, mind if i apply it?" you asked him that because the lipstick's stick is bright red and it was way too obvious. also! you knew about sunoo's lip care routine and knew he was already suspecting something. "okay, go ahead..."
after you applied it, you quickly closed the chap-stick's cap, however, sunoo saw the bright red colour peaking out for a few seconds, frowning before bursting out of laughter. "what was that?!" he asked between cute giggles and a big cheeky grin. "what?" you tried to hold a smile from spreading across your face, but a small giggle came out of you. "why was the chap-stick red?" "i-it's because it is cherry flavoured, dummy!" you explained, but sunoo side eyed you, not believing in it. therefore, he rubs his index finger over his bottom lip and confirms: it was indeed red lipstick. "y/n!" he amusingly screams your name, making you run across the whole living room, before he caught you and forces you to apply it too. sunoo might even take a picture of both of you just sharing his funny moment >_<.
― 𝓳ungwon: finds out alone because his qi is 200+
it was saturday and usually, when jungwon has some free time, he enjoys going out with you and spoil you ― since he could spend time with you, gifting you things and making you happy. however, you wanted to play with your boyfriend before leaving, so, you handed him your special chap-stick and told him that it was a brand you really liked ― and he made sure to note that. jungwon applied it innocently, not waiting for anything special. smacking his lips together, he held your hand and took his car keys, driving you to the mall. entering the air-conditioned surroundings, you told your boyfriend you wanted to go get some ice cream before visiting the stores ― just to see how the cashier would react; and their reaction couldn't be more accurate: discreet giggles and a smirk were noticeable.
"babe, why was that guy laughing at us? do i have something on my face?" poor baby, you wanted to tell him YES! straight ahead, but you knew this was way too good to give up. so you just shook your head, leaving the kitten with a question mark sat on his head. while walking past the mall stores, you remembered you were running out of skin care products. therefore, you went to sephora to buy them. but, during your search, jungwon was looking around the store when he came across an isle with lipsticks displayed. he frowned when the same chap-stick packaging he saw earlier was saying it was a red lipstick. suddenly, he felt someone nudging him, so he turned to see he was it. "looking at our red lipstick collections?" a lady who looked like she worked there asked, and jungwon's frown just deepened. "um... red?" "yes! looks like you are wearing it on your lips at the moment, isn't it great?"
"babe, do you think i should get this vanilla one or this- ... oh, you found out... heh..." "y/n!"
― 𝓻iki: when they go low, i go lower.
since riki was messing up with you regularly, you decided to have your sweet revenge by making him wear a beautiful red lipstick! so you replaced the chap-stick for a lipstick and before he went to practice, you told him it was cold outside and his lips might dry a little bit faster. even though you were the one applying it, riki was insisting it was fine before giving in and letting you do whatever. you made sure to make it pretty much uneven and smudged to mess up with him even more. you gave his cheek a little kiss before waving him goodbye. the last thing you know was that your boyfriend arrived home pissed off, saying that the boys were making fun of him during practice. and you might wonder: how he didn't notice since a practice room has a literal mirror wall?! because, you know how much riki likes his hoodies? so, his hoodie's hood was covering his face almost completely! however, he noticed a few minutes into practice after one of the members point out and he finally realises.
after that day, riki's mind have been trying to come out with a worse prank for weeks. he knew that you were going to hang out with your friends the next day, so he decided to, after you were fast asleep, he would sneakily draw and write ridiculous things on your face and somehow try to convince you that he could do your make-up. surprisingly, you woke up the next day in a good mood and already forgetting about that prank you did with your boyfriend, you accepted it ― and of course he pretended to do it. when you left to hang out with your friends, not even five minutes passed by and you were already texting riki, saying that you were going to kill him ― and even sending a picture of your face, texting a hundred question marks.
riki were only forgiven because he got your favourite food that day, otherwise... ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
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© 𝓪𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝓮, 𝗺𝗹𝘆𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗮 𝗌𝓽𝓾𝖽𝗂𝗈𝓼. ⋆
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forgetmenottss · 1 day ago
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Tulips  Review
“ It was Sirius who had started it, not in an attempt to replace what you had with Remus, but to remind you that he was there for you.”
—Tulips by Elina ( @amiableness ) is quite literally one of my favorite pieces for Sirius Black. Before being a one shot this fic was a series which is how I knew it as. To me it was the Tulips series which means warmth home and is the first fic I reach for when it starts getting colder, rainy and wicked outside. It means so much to me, so much more than words can provide.
As a certified James girl I can’t begin to tell you how this fic melts me every single time. I read this fic and am instantly grazed with a smile. I can’t begin to express how loving and comforting this fic is to me. I think I read this fic for the first time in February? Maybe March? Point is I read it towards the beginning of the year. Tulips were growing. I know that.  I then reread it closer to August because like I said when the weather gets colder it means it’s time to read this fic again. Not to mention that I am quite literally in love with tulips, the flower because they’re my favorites. But this fic is forever and always one that I will recommend. 
“You hardly comprehended the story, too focused on Sirius’ voice and his gentle touch. It was the first time in weeks that you hadn’t thought of Remus.”
➳ Y/n L/n:
Y/n. Y/n oh my lord. I cannot express how this is a beautiful example of how to write yet another y/n that actually feels like a human? In the fic Y/n is well in love with Remus. I can’t blame her because well same. But Remus doesn’t love her and well Y/n is left with having to watch Remus be in love with someone else. When I tell you that I felt so seen in the way that was written? Don’t even get me started. In the fic you can see the battle that Y/n has with those feelings and let me just say it is so incredibly well written because it actually represents how it is to have those feelings for someone who doesn’t return them. 
— The way that Y/n was written was so comforting. I’m going to get slightly personal so, hold please. Y/n was written as someone who was facing a heartbreak. Whether Elina made it intentional or didn’t even write it to have it be heartbreak that’s what the feelings were for me. But I’ll save that story for later. As I was saying, Y/n was given so much life and given such a level of connection that it made it so easy to get sucked into the world that was the Tulipsverse.
➳ Sirius Black:
「 “Sirius' concerned face as it comes into view. "What can I do? What do you need?" he asks, his tone brimming with genuine concern and care” 」
Guys. Where the hell do you want me to start? How dare I make myself choose? So, Sirius Black to me traditionally never appealed to my taste for reading about him. I didn’t really understand why everyone was obsessed with him. I didn’t see what the big deal was. Then I read Elina’s Sirius. Then I understood. Sirius in Tulips is what I imagine the boy you’ve secretly been in love with but too scared to admit to yourself to be like. And in a really really watered down way that’s kinda what it was. Sirius black (Elina’s version) will forever be the sweetest Sirius I have had the pleasure of meeting. Elina wrote Sirius with such care it’s almost as if she had him sit down with her and write it bit by bit how he fell in love with you.  Much like most writers Elina wrote Sirius with such care it’s scary how real he seems. It’s as if he’s right there with you as you’re reading this wonderful piece of work. It’s amazing. 
““Kiss the person you are most attracted to in this room.” Your stomach sinks like a stone, regretting your lack of resistance to James. ”
꒰ Sirius + Y/n: ꒱
Now it’s time to dissect the relationship. Ok when I tell you that when I read that scene, I was trying not to wake the whole house up? I’m not kidding. I literally could not stop myself from screaming as the scene went on. If you’ve read it you know what I’m talking about. But the relationship that Y/n and Sirius have? It is so incredibly beautiful. Like I said I didn’t have any interest in Sirius romantically but when you read Elina’s writing? You aren’t given much of a choice. Sirius was written in such a manner I was crying at the end because he wasn’t real. But this is deeper than that. Have you guys seen My Girl? Hear me out. Y/n and Sirius remind me of them. Because spoilers if you haven’t seen the film. Thomas dies right? Because he went to get something for Vada?  Okay so Sirius is Thomas. Sirius in this fic quite literally did anything he could to help the reader. And when I tell you that it’s squeal worthy when you read it? Be ready to have to muffle those squeals at three am because Elina provides you with the perfect amount of fluff and angst that it actually drives you crazy. The relationship that these two have is so unique and so captivating that you find yourself wanting more and craving the way they both love each other. No matter how much they deny it. Another couple that they remind me of is the relationship Barbie has with the tutor guy from princess and the pauper? Like he was so in love with her and she didn’t realise it until much later? Yeah that mirrors how Y/n and Sirius are in this fic and I am living for it. It’s so alluring and makes you want to immerse yourself in the story. I love it. 
”“You’re the only one I thought of.” You admit softly, hoping you don’t sound nearly as wrecked as you feel”
— The quote above is one that had(s) me reeling. When I first read it I was quite frankly stuffing my face into my pillow screaming. I remember reading that scene and looking up at the ceiling asking “what are we” to the air. But now it’s time to dissect that scene. No I’m kidding now it's time for the love letter to this fic. Tulips as I’ve so eloquently have written is a fic that I hold so near and dear to my heart because it helped me get over a stupid british boy. Regardless if I had been heartbroken when I read this fic or not I know I would fall in love with it again. If you hand me this fic and I happened to have lost my memory I know I would be as in love with it then as I am now. Tulips is an amazing work of art that makes you feel like you’re actually experiencing these things. It’s as if you’re right there and actually living through the scenes because it’s so beautifully written. Elina, your writing brings me and I’m sure many others so much comfort. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for sharing this with us. Thank you for not second guessing this amazing work of art and not sharing it to the world. If you haven’t already read Tulips do yourself a favor and go read it. Read it with tissues though. It made me cry sometimes but cough drops too because you will scream. Tulips will be one of the best fics that you’ve read I can guarantee even if you don’t think you like Sirius take it from someone who had mild interest in Sirius. You will love it when you read it. Thank you for reading the review!!
To Elina,
        I did try to be as unbiased as I promise you I for the most part I really did try. I don’t know once you read the review (if you do) you’ll be able to tell me if I was bias or not! But I’m not lying to you when I tell you how much this work means to me. When I first read this piece I had just gone through the worst ending of a really intense situationship. Ironically enough he had a girlfriend while we were talking. And he came into my life saying he wanted to talk and to tell me about said girlfriend. So when I accidentally stumbled onto this absolute gem of a fic while reading one night? I stayed up the whole night and read it all the way through. I was screaming into my pillows as I was reading. I thought I knew stress, but then I experienced stress and my actual feelings on paper and I was proven wrong. Elina, I don’t think I say this enough when I tell you how amazing your writing truly is. When I first found this fic I was in shock because I had never once considered I would be this obsessed with Sirius but when I read the first chapter? You had me bewitched. I will say you have a beautiful gift in writing and I am so incredibly honored that you chose to share with the world that gift. But this fic was honestly the beginning for my journey of your writing. I was scrolling through my blog and I had found you asking about dad!james x bsf!reader. I looked at the post for a little and I thought it was familiar and it was, I just didn’t know until I clicked it. I began reading all the works you had linked. I can’t remember if I  interacted but I think I read them all silently and I found myself craving more. Then I made the decision to follow you. I wasn’t that nervous to follow because you deserve people to show you that they love your work. However when I would send you those messages? I was so nervous, I would actually throw my phone when you would respond. But then you followed me back? When I tell you I was actually unresponsive? It was crazy. Because I still can’t wrap my head around how the person who’s fics I go to when I feel like I’m alone, had followed me back. I wasn’t lying when I said your fics still bring me comfort because they like I’ve said before are part of my routine. I am forever grateful to have found your piece because I continuously think about it and find comfort in it. So I’ll leave you with this Elina, your writing is so incredibly beautiful. Even if people are stupid and take your work for granted I want you to know how incredible it is. 
Tulips
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Pairings: Sirius Black x Fem!Reader, Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader
Summary ✿ After finding out Remus Lupin has found himself a girlfriend, a devastated Y/n L/n asks Sirius Black to help her get over him. Except Sirius has feelings for her.
Warnings ✿ Language, unrequited love, angst, kissing, jealousy, reader wearing lipgloss and a dress, mentions of anxiety. If there's more let me know!
Word Count ✿ 20.3k
A/N 💌 This was my first ever series, but I've decided to repost it as a oneshot!
BONUS SMUT
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Your affection for Remus had begun almost from the moment you met him. For nearly five years, you found yourself quietly drawn to him. How could you not be? His tranquil and caring nature had eased your anxieties countless times. His unwavering loyalty to both his friends and his studies never ceased to amaze you. The bravery he exhibited each month, whether he acknowledged it or not, left you in awe. With Remus, you always felt secure, as if nothing could disturb your sense of safety.
Monday nights marked your routine study sessions with Remus, a tradition since the start of sixth year. Arriving promptly at his dorm, you were met with unsettling moans seeping from beneath the door, causing your stomach to plummet. Frozen in shock, you raced through possible explanations, with Sirius seeming the most plausible culprit. Surely, Remus wouldn't forget your study night, and the thought of another girl seemed inconceivable. As you turned around, anxiety coursing through your veins, you collided with Sirius, tears welling up in your eyes.
"Please tell me it’s James in there." You pleaded, the desperation clear in both your tone and your expression, causing Sirius' heart to sink. Knowing James was at practice, he couldn't bring himself to shatter your hope. Instead, he grasped your hand firmly and practically pulled you towards your dormitory. Despite the chaos of emotions, Sirius made sure to shield you with his own body, warding off any prying eyes curious about the tears streaming down your cheeks.
"Are any of your roommates here?" Sirius inquired as he halted in front of your dormitory door.
"No, Lily is staying the night at your dorm with James, and I think Marlene is staying with Dorcas." You responded, your voice tinged with sadness as you used your sleeve to dab at the tears staining your cheeks. Leading the way inside, you guided Sirius into your room, where he realized it was his first time seeing your personal space. Until now, you and Remus had been inseparable, leaving no room for Sirius to spend time alone with you.
He found himself a tad nervous, the proximity to you unnerving him in the best possible way. As he stood in your dormitory, the faint scent of your favorite perfume lingering in the air, Sirius couldn't help but feel a flutter in his stomach. It was an unfamiliar sensation, being so close to you without the familiar presence of Remus nearby.
"It wasn’t James and Lily in there, was it?" Sirius turned to you, his expression filled with concern as he observed you sitting on your bed, visibly holding back tears, awaiting his response.
"No, angel." He replied softly, his voice tinged with empathy as he moved to sit beside you. A sigh escaped his lips as he settled onto your bed. Sirius knew James's schedule all too well, and he was certain that James was still down at the Quidditch pitch, far from the dorm.
Everything about your side of the room was perfectly you. Your desk was adorned with stacks of books, polaroids capturing cherished memories with friends pinned to the wall, and one of Remus’ sweaters casually draped over the back of your chair. Yet, amidst the familiar sights, a small glass vase seized his attention. Within it, a single red tulip, a gift he had given you a few weeks earlier.
As he strolled around Black Lake with the boys, he stumbled upon the patch of flowers, and instantly, he knew it was meant for you. Knowing how much you adored flowers, often doodling them in the margins of your Potions notes while seated beside him, he couldn't resist picking it. James, catching sight of the flower, declared that Lily deserved an entire bouquet. 
You weren’t taken aback when James Potter interrupted your study session with Lily by presenting her with a stunning bouquet of flowers. However, what did catch you off guard was Sirius' gesture: placing a single red flower delicately on top of your open book and sending you a playful wink.
"​M’lady." He had murmured, and at that moment, your cheeks ignited with a warmth you had never felt before.
Lily filled the remainder of your study session with talk of how a red tulip symbolized a declaration of love while you simply laughed in response.
Sirius glanced over at you, noticing the tear-filled gaze fixed upon your hands as you sat on the bed. He hesitated, the weight of his words hanging in the air. "I didn’t know you had feelings for him." he finally admitted, his tone tinged with surprise.
You offered a soft laugh tinged with a hint of sadness. "I guess that means I’m good at hiding it then. It’s been a good couple of years now. Probably started the very first day I met him, honestly," you confessed, a bittersweet smile gracing your lips.
"I’m sorry, angel." Sirius expressed, his voice laced with genuine remorse.
A gentle shake of your head followed. "You don’t have to be sorry," you reassured him, your voice carrying a tone of acceptance intertwined with a hint of resignation.
"I could’ve given you a heads up," Sirius grimaced as your head whipped up to look over at him, the gravity of his words sinking in. "He’s been seeing this girl for weeks. He’s going to ask her out soon."
"Sirius-" you began, your voice carrying a mixture of surprise and concern.
"I’m telling you this not to be mean, but so you’re not blindsided when it happens." Sirius continued his tone earnest yet tinged with regret.
This time, you remained silent, your gaze drifting over to the polaroid displayed prominently on your bedside table. In the photo, you and Remus sat beneath a tree, his arm wrapped around you in a protective embrace while your head rested gently on his shoulder. The memory of that day flooded back — discussing a book, laughter filling the air, and Lily insisting on capturing the moment in a photograph. 
At the end of the day, with a knowing smile, she handed you the polaroid. The setting sun cast a beautiful glow upon the photo when you held it in your hand.
"C’mere," Sirius demanded softly, his voice a gentle command meant to pull you away from the intensity of the picture. He positioned himself against the headboard, arms open wide for you to find solace in. Without hesitation, you crawled into his embrace, nestling against his side. His arms enveloped you, offering comfort and warmth as he planted a tender kiss atop your head.
"What can I do?" Sirius inquired quietly, his gaze fixed on the tears tracing down your cheeks and staining his shirt.
"Help me get over him. Please." You pleaded, the vulnerability in your voice bared as you sought comfort and support from him.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
"Where the hell have you been? You nearly missed breakfast!" James exclaimed, his eyes scanning over your disheveled appearance—your hair in disarray and your clothes creased. It was a rare sight to see you, typically impeccably put together and five minutes ahead of everyone else, arriving late and looking rumpled. He chose not to mention the dark circles under your eyes or the absence of your usual cheery smile. He knew better than to bring that up.
Upon sensing Remus's scrutinizing gaze, you cleared your throat nervously and averted your eyes, unwilling to let him figure out that he was the cause of your disheveled appearance.
“Rough night.” That was simply put. In fact, last night had been incredibly rough, leaving you worse for wear this dreary morning. Cuddling with Sirius comforted you for so long before you were back to crying your heart out. He was kind enough to hold you the entire time, and eventually, you had both fallen asleep. There had been no discussion on what you meant last night about having him help you get over Remus. You didn’t know what you had meant by it either.
You grimaced as the memory flooded back, choosing to sit beside Sirius instead. He wouldn’t admit it in front of the boys, but he was well prepared to knock one of them over if they tried to sit next to him. After the trying night you'd endured, he made it a point to ensure you felt at ease and understood that he was there for you should you need anything. Normally, you occupied the seat next to Remus, with Sirius seated beside James and Peter. However, given the circumstances, he understood that you wouldn't feel comfortable sitting next to Remus that morning.
James' gaze darted between the two of you, noting the departure from your usual seating arrangement. He stole a quick glance at Remus, who seemed intent on studying you. "Hmm. Why is it that Sirius has been quiet all breakfast, and now you are too?" he quipped, breaking the silence.
"Sod off, mate." Sirius grumbled, pushing a steaming cup of tea toward you. Despite the gruff remark, he offered you a sweet smile before returning his attention to his meal. Even though the gesture was minimal, it made you want to burst into tears. The fact that he remembered your favorite tea and how you liked it meant more to you than words could express. Remus, however, frowned at the cup of tea sitting in front of you, his expression troubled.
“What? I can’t make conversation this beautiful morning?” James’s tone was still incredibly upbeat, unlike those around him. Peter hummed in agreement, his mouth full of cereal and unable to respond properly.
"It's storming." Remus mumbled, his gaze still fixed on you, sensing that something was amiss as you avoided meeting his eyes. Usually, you sat next to him, cheerily chatting about another book you had read together.
"Are you implying a storm isn't beautiful? Because I happen to think-"
"James, let's just have a quiet breakfast this Tuesday morning." Sirius interjected, surprising James with the interruption. James opened his mouth to protest, but the seriousness in Sirius's expression halted him mid-sentence. Sirius's deliberate interruption was aimed at signaling to Remus that he had missed your study night. It served its purpose, prompting Remus to acknowledge the missed study date.
"Oh, fuck. Y/n, I’m so sorry! Last night, our study night, I totally forgot," Remus blurted out, his words rushed and filled with regret as he watched your reaction. You simply shrugged and sipped your tea, avoiding direct eye contact with him. You kept your gaze fixed on your plate, knowing that meeting Remus's eyes would likely trigger another wave of tears.
"No big deal." You replied casually.
"Uh," Remus furrowed his eyebrows, his expression a mixture of concern and confusion as he searched your face for any sign of distress. However, your demeanor remained inscrutable, your face a mask of blankness. "Are you sure? I know you really wanted to study this week with your exam coming up-"
You finally met Remus's gaze, sitting up a bit straighter, "I was able to study, Remus, it's fine."
"You were? But uh-" Remus scrambled for words, uncertain how to navigate this tense exchange. He couldn't recall a time when you sounded so curt with him before.
"Sirius helped me." You interjected, your voice steady but tinged with an underlying tension.
James sputtered out a laugh, his gaze darting between you and Sirius. "He helped you study? Willingly?"
In reality, studying hadn't been the main agenda of the night. Before drifting off to sleep, you had hastily handed Sirius your flashcards from the nightstand, however, your pounding headache from crying rendered you unable to focus properly during his quizzing. So, technically, he did help you study, albeit minimally.
Peter raised his eyebrows, his tone laced with curiosity, "Is that where you were all last night? Studying?"
You squirmed uneasily at Peter's implication. Sirius shot James and Peter a sharp glance, silently urging them to stop talking.
Remus's lips parted in surprise as he shifted his gaze from Sirius to you. "He stayed the night with you?" His tone carried a hint of displeasure that didn't escape Sirius's notice. Despite himself, a slight sense of satisfaction flickered within Sirius at Remus's reaction.
Before anyone could respond, a pretty Ravenclaw leaned over Remus, enveloping him in a hug as she rested her head against his shoulder. "Rem, I thought you were going to try and sit with me this morning." She murmured.
Your body tensed at the sight of her; she was the girl from last night. A surge of jealousy, unlike anything you had ever experienced before, washed over you, catching you off guard. Your appetite vanished.
"Uh, sorry. I had to work on some things this morning and got a bit distracted." Remus's response came with a hint of discomfort, his apology tinged with unease. As you observed the exchange, you couldn't quite determine if his discomfort arose from her presence or the attention their interaction garnered. Quietly, you wished it leaned more towards the former.
Her lips formed a pretty pout, “Hm.”
James unabashedly observed the pair while taking a bite of his toast. "You know, Remus, if you ever need relationship advice, I’m here," he remarked, his tone teasing. Remus scowled in response, clearly unamused, while the girl giggled and tightened her grip around him, seemingly unfazed by James's comment.
You stole a glance at Sirius, momentarily tuning out the conversation to observe his reaction to the scene unfolding before you. Sensing the unease gnawing at your stomach, you instinctively reached for Sirius’ hand, which rested on his thigh. As soon as your fingers brushed against his, he responded by intertwining them with yours, his eyes meeting yours in silent understanding.
"Do you want to go?" he whispered softly, squeezing your hand in reassurance. Unable to trust your voice, you simply nodded in response. He released your hand momentarily, a fleeting disappointment washing over you until you watched as he effortlessly grabbed your bag and slung it over his shoulder. With a tender gesture, he reached for a muffin, noticing that you had hardly eaten.
Then, extending his hand towards you, he silently offered his support. Amidst James's lively conversation with the Ravenclaw girl and Remus's contemplative gaze, Peter looked on with a puzzled expression as Sirius extended his hand to you, a silent invitation to leave the discomfort behind.
"You don’t have to hold my bag." You mumbled, rising to your feet to face him, intertwining your fingers once more. Despite the awareness of the eyes fixed upon the two of you, your focus remained solely on Sirius.
"I wanted to, angel." Sirius replied softly, meeting your gaze with warmth. The genuine smile that graced your face was the first of the morning, and Sirius felt as if he had won the lottery.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
"Y/n." His voice sliced through the air, causing you to freeze mid-sentence. But deep down, what had you truly expected? That he wouldn’t approach you while you were quietly engrossed in your book in the common room? Your plan of avoiding him for as long as possible wasn’t unfolding as smoothly as you had hoped.
"Hi, Rem.” You responded softly, offering a genuine smile. Despite the ache that lingered from witnessing him with the Ravenclaw girl at breakfast, you couldn’t deny the bond you shared. After all, he was still your best friend. You couldn’t fault him for getting a girlfriend, no matter how much it hurt.
Remus settled into the armchair opposite you, his expression earnest. "I didn’t really get to talk to you much this morning," he began, his tone gentle.
You offered a nonchalant shrug, hoping to conceal the nervousness. "Oh. I mean, I wasn’t in much of a mood for chatting," you replied, attempting to maintain a façade of composure, though inwardly, you were anything but.
"Is everything alright? Is this about missing last night? I promise that I didn’t mean to, truly," Remus continued, his sincerity evident. Leaning forward, his eyes bore into yours, practically pleading for your forgiveness. Despite your resolve, his sincerity tugged at your heartstrings, and you found yourself wavering.
"I’m not upset about you missing our study night; I understand that things come up." You reassured him as though you were anything truly fine. There was a squeeze in your heart at remembering Remus with another girl, a stark reminder that she wasn't you.
Remus visibly relaxed at your words. "We could reschedule it?" he suggested, his tone hopeful.
A heavy silence settled between you. How were you supposed to tell him that you didn't want to reschedule? That you weren't ready to spend time alone with him right now? Being around him now, knowing you had no chance, felt like a punch to the gut.
"There you guys are!" James’ voice carried throughout the common room, effectively gaining more attention than he had probably intended. Sirius stood right beside him, his gaze already fixed on you. Peter was notably absent, likely engrossed in his studies elsewhere. Nevertheless, you welcomed the distraction.
James huffed as if he had been greatly inconvenienced. "We have been looking everywhere for you guys."
You couldn't help but laugh, "You didn’t think to check the common room first?"
"Y/n, please. Don’t be ridiculous." James quipped as he dropped into the armchair beside Remus. Remus's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he sighed and turned his attention to James. Soon enough, they were engrossed in their own conversation.
Sirius settled into the spot next to you, casually draping an arm over the back of the couch just behind your shoulders. As you leaned into his side and offered him a smile, he felt his cheeks flush with warmth. Your affectionate gestures toward him had always been present, but after last night, they seemed to intensify.
Your proximity never failed to make his heart skip a beat, and his stomach flutter. Despite his confidence in hiding his involuntary reactions to you, lately, it seemed more challenging for him to do so.
He greets you with the softest smile, his eyes reflecting warmth. "Hi, angel," he murmurs gently. Sirius had always affectionately called you angel, a term that secretly held a special place in your heart, one of your favorite things about him.
"Hi." You respond, a matching smile adorning your features, mirroring the comfort in his presence.
"I never got to thank you for last night." You admit, your tone filled with gratitude.
Shaking his head modestly, he insists, "You don’t have to thank me."
"It made me feel better having you there with me, so of course I want to thank you." You express earnestly, your appreciation evident in your words.
Sirius leans in, his breath tickling your ear as he whispers, "We still gotta talk about what you meant last night. By asking me to help you get over him."
Feeling a flush of embarrassment, you sputter out a response, "I’m not entirely sure what I meant. I figured you would know how to go about that."
"Why would I know how to go about that?" Sirius questions, genuine curiosity coloring his tone.
Shrugging, you admit, "I don’t know. I just thought you might have. You have way more experience with relationships than I do."
Sirius snorts, a wry grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "I wouldn’t call them relationships." he remarks, his mind briefly wandering through the array of flings he'd had in the past few years. None of them had left a lasting impression on him, none of them had made him feel the way you did.
You shrug, a hint of vulnerability in your expression. "It’s more experience than I have.”
Your voices remain hushed, a deliberate attempt to avoid drawing the attention of James and Remus. Yet, the intimate proximity between you and Sirius could easily spark curiosity on its own. You're practically nestled against his side, his warm breath brushing against your ear as he whispers. To any onlooker, it would seem as though you were lovers, exchanging sweet nothings in a quiet moment of intimacy.
He takes a moment to collect his thoughts, acutely aware of the gravity of his next question. He understands that the answer could severely hurt his feelings, "Are you in love with him?"
Your reaction is swift; you turn to him so abruptly that your noses nearly brush against each other. Sirius silently begs you to linger closer, but you withdraw just enough to maintain a respectable distance. He watches intently as you steal a glance at Remus, your bottom lip caught between your teeth in contemplation.
"No. But, honestly, it probably wouldn’t take much for me to fall in love with him." You confess, your words hanging in the air like a weight. Sirius needs a moment to recover, the impact of your admission hitting him harder than he had anticipated, despite mentally preparing himself for it.
You turn back to him, anguish evident in your voice, "How are you supposed to get over someone you’re nearly in love with?" Sirius hears the devastation in your tone, wishing he could convey that he genuinely comprehends that sentiment. However, delving into such explanations would only invite more questions, and that's the last thing he needs right now.
"I don’t know, angel." He responds simply, observing as you anxiously pick at your nails.
A quiet lull envelops you both before you speak up again, "I don’t think spending all my time with him helps. Maybe I should distance myself a little bit."
"You’re welcome to spend all that time with me instead." Sirius offers, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to his side. As you relax into his embrace, you rest your head on his shoulder. For a few precious minutes, you both sit in silence, lost in your own thoughts.
Remus glances over at you, nearly doing a double-take at the display of affection. You have closed your eyes, seemingly oblivious to Remus' stare, but Sirius him. For a brief, tense moment, Remus and Sirius lock eyes, but then James regains Remus' attention.
“Sirius?” You ask, the weariness evident in your voice.
“Yeah?”
“Remember when you told James to get over Lily that he needed to get under someone else?” Sirius immediately senses the direction of the conversation, and a pang of regret twinges in his chest.
“Yes.”
“Do you think that really works?” You inquire, your tone tinged with uncertainty and a hint of desperation.
“For some people, maybe.” Sirius replies cautiously. He wants to admit that such tactics haven’t proven successful for him and probably never will.
You pull away to look at him, your eyes reflecting a mixture of hope and uncertainty, “Would you help me find someone?”
"There’s no way in hell I’m doing that." Sirius responds firmly, his tone leaving little room for negotiation. But before you can protest, he interjects, "I’ll be your distraction."
"How exactly?" Your voice tinged with uncertainty, unsure of what he means.
"However, you need me. I know I’m not the best study partner, but I’ll run through your flashcards with you whenever you need to study," Sirius offers, his voice softening as he glances from you to Remus. “I know you guys would talk about books a lot, so I’ll read whatever book you’re reading just to discuss it with you. Whatever you want me to do, Y/n, I’ll do it.”
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
“You and Y/n were cozy on that couch,” James comments casually, his gaze fixed on the ceiling from where he's sprawled out on his bed. Sirius glances over his shoulder at him, pausing his furious writing at the desk where he's been hunched over for the last twenty minutes.
“Hm. I guess so.” Sirius replies nonchalantly, but his voice’s a subtle tension.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” James' tone carries a note of genuine concern, and Sirius immediately feels the weight of his friend's apprehension settling over the room like a heavy blanket.
“Working on my homework? Yeah, it’s probably my best one yet.” Sirius responds, his tone strained as he tries to maintain composure.
“About comforting the girl you love because she’s in love with your best mate.” James continues, his words cutting through the air like a knife. Sirius freezes, the quill leaving a streak of ink across the paper as his thoughts whirl.
He refuses to turn around and face James, not wanting to see the pitying look he knows will be on his friend's face. Instead, he runs his hand through his hair in frustration, his emotions simmering beneath the surface.
“Surprised you figured it out.” Sirius grumbles, his voice laced with a mixture of defensiveness and resignation. He doesn’t want to confront the truth about your feelings for Remus. The mere thought of you falling in love with someone other than him ignites a pang of jealousy in his chest.
He wants to correct James, to insist that you aren’t in love with Remus, but it feels futile. The reality is too close for comfort, and he can't shake the feeling of impending loss.
“About your feelings? Or hers?” James questions, his head leaning back against his headboard as he studies Sirius, his expression searching.
Sirius climbs onto his bed, letting out a sigh of frustration once his head hits his pillow, the weight of the conversation heavy on his mind. “Both,” he admits, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
“I didn’t notice until today with Y/n. She looked devastated when Adeline was all over Remus. On the other hand, I’ve known you’ve had feelings for her for years. The things you do for her, you wouldn’t do for anyone else.” James observes, his tone tinged with a mix of understanding and concern.
Sirius doesn’t know what to say in response, but deep down, he knows James is right. He’s always treated you differently, gone the extra mile for you in ways he wouldn't for anyone else. He had just hoped it wasn’t so obvious.
James sighs loudly, the weight of the situation hanging heavy in the air, “You gotta be careful, mate. You’re gonna get your feelings hurt.”
“I’d rather my feelings be hurt than hers.” Sirius responds earnestly, his voice carrying a hint of determination.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
It was official. Remus Lupin and Adeline Reyes were officially dating. The news didn’t come as a surprise; Remus had been bringing her around more often lately. She seamlessly integrated herself into your group dynamic, joining you all at breakfast some mornings and effortlessly engaging in conversation as if she had been there for years. Adeline adeptly kept pace with Sirius’ quick quips and could outwit James with a witty comeback. She was quick to include Peter whenever James unintentionally overshadowed him in conversation and was always eager to discuss the next book you planned to read.
It was horrifically frustrating.
You wanted to dislike her, but deep down, you knew it was just jealousy clouding your judgment. Adeline was undeniably genuine and sweet; you could easily envision yourself becoming good friends with her. However, every time she affectionately pressed her lips to Remus’ cheeks or leaned into his side, it felt like a sharp pang reminding you of your own feelings and the heartwrenching situation you found yourself in.
It left a bitter taste in your mouth. Just a few weeks ago, that was your spot, and you were blissfully unaware of his feelings for another girl. You felt foolish, caught off guard. Was it all in your head? Had you merely romanticized every interaction with him? Built up a scenario that never truly existed?
"Y/n, this is the third time you've spaced out. Are you alright?" Lily's concerned voice broke through your thoughts as she settled beside you on the bed. Despite James's insistence on a get-together downstairs, you found your mind drifting elsewhere. It had been a couple of weeks since Remus and Adeline declared their relationship, and ever since then, your thoughts had been in turmoil.
You shrugged, "I'm okay. I just don't think I'm up for a party tonight."
"You haven't seemed in the party mood for weeks." Marlene remarked, her attention fixed on her reflection as she applied lip gloss. Sensing something amiss, she pivoted abruptly to face you.
"Is this about Remus and Adeline?" Lily's direct question made your stomach plummet.
"I, uh—no." You stammered, feeling as startled as you looked by her inquiry.
"Godric, you're a horrible liar." Marlene remarked, tossing the tube of sparkly gloss onto her bed before striding over to her trunk and flinging it open. "It's okay to miss your best friend. You two are practically glued to each other's sides. I'm sure it's odd not spending as much time with him anymore."
Lily observed the subtle shift in your demeanor as Marlene spoke, although Marlene herself was entirely engrossed in rummaging through her clothes until she emitted a satisfied hum.
Shoving a floral sundress into your hands, Marlene declared, "Here, you're not wearing your uniform tonight. Wearing something cute will make you feel better." Your fingers traced over the silky material, white with colorful flowers scattered across it. Marlene observed as you held up the dress, eyeing the spaghetti straps and milkmaid top with uncertainty.
"It's winter, Marlene." You pointed out your tone laced with practicality.
"We're inside. But if you do get cold, I’m sure Sirius would gladly warm you up." Marlene chirped, grinning at your surprised expression.
"Sirius is not going to warm me up." You grumbled as you stood up and headed to the bathroom with the dress in hand. With the door shut, you changed out of your uniform. You had to admit, the dress was pretty. Maybe Marlene was right; wearing something cute would boost your confidence and mood.
"Are you sure? You two have been awfully cozy lately!" Lily's laughter laced her tone as she called through the door. You slipped the dress on, then twisted in front of the mirror to assess how it looked. Concluding that you liked it, you also appreciated how it made you feel slightly brighter. It reminded you of a summer spent in Italy with your parents, where you practically lived in sundresses.
You turn open the door and twirl for the girls, who squeal in appreciation. Marlene snatches the lip gloss she had tossed aside, grabbing at your cheeks to dot some on your lips.
"We haven’t been cozy. We’re just acting like friends do." You mumble, your words slightly muffled from your cheeks being squished.
“Bullshit! You never snuggled Peter, never did with James before he got himself a girlfriend,” Marlene turned to wink at Lily. “Honestly, you never did with Remus either. But you and Sirius have been all over each other.”
“We have not!” You deny it, looking to Lily for support. But she only leans back on her hands and sends you a smug smile.
"The other day, I walked into the common room with James, and you were practically asleep on Sirius’ lap while he read to you.” Lily grins.
“He was reading to you? That’s the cutest thing I have ever heard. That’s your love language right there!” Marlene's gasp was filled with awe, and you didn't know how to respond. Because you had indeed fallen asleep on his lap while Sirius twirled a strand of your hair between his fingers absentmindedly as he read Pride and Prejudice to you. You hardly comprehended the story, too focused on Sirius’ voice and his gentle touch. It was the first time in weeks that you hadn’t thought of Remus.
“It was the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen Sirius do.” Lily agreed, nodding in approval. “I’m telling you, he has feelings for you. I’ve thought so ever since 5th year. He pretty much confirmed it when he gave you that red tulip.”
“A declaration of love!” Marlene practically sang, her excitement contagious.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
As you reached the bottom step with Marlene and Lily, you let out a sigh. The common room was bustling, with students scattered everywhere, making the air feel stuffy and warm. You briefly pondered what James’ definition of a get-together was, because this felt more like a full-blown party.
“James said he invited hardly anyone.” You muttered to Lily, who nodded in agreement.
“He’s a social butterfly, you never know with him.” Lily replied with a shrug, craning her neck to spot James amidst the crowd. She eventually spotted him near the fireplace, engaged in lively conversation with Sirius and a few other members of the Quidditch team. You allowed Lily to lead you through the throng of people, observing the lively atmosphere around you. Marlene had already disappeared into the crowd, no doubt on a mission to find Dorcas.
You can hear him before you see him: Sirius’ hearty laugh resonates over the music and the crowd’s chatter. It's a remarkable sound, drawing attention effortlessly. And there he is, standing tall next to James by the fireplace, a drink held casually in one hand while the other gestures animatedly as he converses with the guy beside him. Clad in a simple black T-shirt, Sirius exudes a captivating charm, and you can't help but admire how good he looks in the flickering firelight.
Though you'd never admit it aloud, Lily had been onto something. You and Sirius had been spending an increasing amount of time together. True to his word, Sirius had been a genuine distraction from your heartache. The activities you once shared with Remus were gradually being replaced by moments with Sirius.
It was no longer Remus, who you sat next to in the morning. No longer Remus, who you reviewed your flashcards with. No longer Remus, who would sit with you next to Black Lake and chat about your latest book. And no longer Remus, who would hold your hand to calm your anxiety every time you had to speak up in front of the class.
But it wasn’t like you had asked Sirius to do any of these things. It was Sirius who had started it, not in an attempt to replace what you had with Remus, but to remind you that he was there for you. That he would do anything to make you feel loved. Sirius wasn’t doing any of this because he felt obligated. He did it because he wanted you to know that you weren’t alone and that he didn’t plan on leaving any time soon.
But there were things that Sirius did that Remus had never done. Every morning, a cup of your favorite tea awaited at your spot next to him. He carried one of your scrunchies in his bag because you could never keep track of them, even offering to tie your hair up for you. Each time he walked around Black Lake, he brought you back a red tulip, which you tucked into the vase on your desk next to the others. You were building up quite the collection. 
Sirius bursts into laughter, but his mirth is interrupted by James' boisterous greeting. The sudden volume jerks your attention away from Sirius, and you find yourself facing Lily, who offers a halfhearted protest as James envelops her in a bear hug. You brace yourself as James turns his attention to you, lifting you up despite your protests about your dress. After he sets you down, a moment of imbalance is quickly rectified as you feel an arm slip around your waist, steadying you against someone's chest.
"He's had a few too many." Sirius whispers into your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. You lean into his embrace, relishing the warmth and familiarity of his touch before turning around to face him.
With your palms pressed against his chest, you offer him a warm smile. "Hi."
He still holds onto his drink, but his pointer finger slips under the strap of your dress, giving it a gentle tug. "This is cute," he murmurs, his voice now hushed compared to the near shouting from a minute ago. His eyes meet yours, and you feel a wave of warmth spread through you. No one has ever looked at you the way he's looking at you right now.
"Thank you." You reply softly, surprised at the tenderness in your own voice. But you know he hears you as he smiles before turning back to the conversation he was having with a few other guys.
Pushing down your disappointment, you adjust the straps of your dress and take a breath, scanning the room for someone else to chat with. However, Sirius surprises you by wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you gently into his side. He continues to talk, his voice much quieter this time, but the three subtle squeezes let you know he's still there if you need him.
Lily catches your eye and mouths, "I told you so."
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
You hadn't intended to eavesdrop, it was just a coincidence that you found yourself in the vicinity at that moment. 
"You know, everyone thought you and Y/n were gonna get together." Peter remarks, nudging Remus in the side. Remus turns to him, likely taken aback. From your vantage point, you can't see their faces, but you recognize their silhouettes. They're seated together on one of the couches, engaged in quiet conversation amid the lively atmosphere of the party. You had briefly slipped away from Sirius to grab a drink, but now you're starting to regret your decision.
"Y/n and I?" Remus's response is laced with surprise, confirming your suspicions. You stand frozen, a few feet away from the couch, feeling your stomach plummet. 
"Yeah, I think most people thought you already were. I mean, you guys spent so much time together." Peter continues, oblivious to the impact of his words. You try to avoid lingering on the past tense word.
"No, never," Remus hastily interjects. “I don’t think I could think of Y/n like that.” His words landed like a heavy blow to your chest. You feel a pang of disappointment and hurt ripple through you, sitting heavy in your stomach. With tears threatening to spill from your eyes, you pivot on your heel and stride purposefully toward your dormitory.
As you navigate through the bustling crowd, your lips utter excuse me, and I need to get through in a mechanical cadence. Each step feels heavier than the last, burdened by the weight of Remus's words and the shattered illusions they bring.
Finally, the door to your dormitory swings shut behind you with a resounding thud, the noise a stark contrast to the chaos of the party below. Alone in the silence of your room, you confront the raw emotions swirling within you, grappling with the harsh reality of unrequited feelings.
Tears blur your vision so severely that you nearly trip over your shoes in your haste to remove them. With trembling hands, you toss the covers over your body, seeking refuge in the soft embrace of your bed. You bury your face into the welcoming embrace of your pillow, heedless of the inevitable mascara stains that will be left behind. A strangled sob escapes your lips, muffled by the sanctuary of your pillow, as you grapple with the overwhelming wave of emotions crashing over you.
The noise of the party downstairs serves as a comforting cloak, allowing you to release your emotions freely and without judgment.
The abruptness with which Remus shut down any possibility of harboring feelings for you cuts deep, like a dagger to the heart. The ache in your chest feels all-consuming, a relentless reminder that you will never be with him. Despite the rational part of your mind knowing that his affection for Adeline precludes any possibility of reciprocating your feelings, the emotional turmoil still wreaks havoc on your fragile heart.
In the solitude of your room, you allow yourself to cry. With each passing moment, the ache in your chest deepens.
"Y/n? Oh, Godric." Lily exclaims, rushing to your side with concern etched across her features. She gathers your hair away from your tear-streaked face, her eyes taking in the sight before her: cheeks flushed and blotchy, mascara-tinged tears tracing down your cheeks, your hair in disarray. She had sensed something amiss when she spotted you hurrying up the stairs, but the depth of your distress caught her off guard.
"Y/n, what can I do? Do you want a glass of water? Can I, uh..." Lily's voice trembles with worry as she looks around the room, searching for anything that might bring you comfort. She's witnessed your tears before, but never like this, leaving her feeling utterly helpless.
"I don't need water. Can you..." Your voice breaks, choked with emotion, making it difficult to articulate your thoughts.
Lily watches as you clutch your pillow tighter, waiting for your next words. "Can I what?" She prompts gently.
"I just need..." You falter, another sob escaping your lips. "Sirius. I need Sirius."
Without hesitation, Lily nods, determined to find Sirius and bring him to your side. As she exits your dorm, you sink deeper into your pillow, allowing the tears to flow freely. Your mind races with questions, grappling with how to face Remus again and feign normalcy.
You're not completely taken aback by his words; the past few weeks have allowed you to gradually accept that Remus may not share your feelings. Yet, processing this realization privately was less painful than hearing his firm denial of any possibility of reciprocation. Perhaps there's a tinge of sorrow in acknowledging this truth, as it signifies a shift in your relationship with Remus—one that might never be quite the same again. Accepting this reality proves to be a bitter pill to swallow.
"Angel," Your body instinctively relaxes at the soothing sound of Sirius’s voice. The pillow is gently drawn from your grip, revealing Sirius’ concerned face as it comes into view. "What can I do? What do you need?" he asks, his tone brimming with genuine concern and care.
Kneeling by the side of your bed, his eyes brim with concern, evoking emotion that threatens to overwhelm you once more. You lie on your side, facing him, your makeup smudged and your eyes swollen from tears. Despite your disheveled appearance, he finds you the most beautiful girl in the world.
"Hold on." He murmurs softly before disappearing into your bathroom. The sound of running water fills the silence, a gentle reminder of his comforting presence. Moments later, he returns with a damp cloth in hand, his touch gentle yet firm as he kneels before you. With tender care, he cradles your jaw, his movements deliberate as he gently wipes away the remnants of makeup from your face, his actions speaking volumes of his unwavering support and affection.
"All clean," he whispers softly, discarding the cloth onto the ground with the intention of dealing with it later. "What do you need?"
"You." You sniffle, tugging gently at his hand to convey your desire for him to join you in bed. Without hesitation, Sirius kicks off his shoes and slips under the covers beside you. With a tender gesture, he reaches out, his hand gently brushing the hair away from your face as he settles in beside you. Your faces hover mere inches apart, a tantalizing proximity that he tries to distract from by focusing on the simple task of brushing your hair away, the urge to kiss you tugging at the corners of his mind.
"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pull you away from the party." You murmur apologetically, your gaze meeting his. His eyes snap to yours, a flicker of offense crossing his features.
"I would drop anything for you." He responds earnestly, his sincerity shining through in his words, leaving no room for doubt. A sharp inhale escapes your lips as you stare back at him, the weight of his commitment settling between you.
"What happened, angel?" he asks gently, his eyes reflecting a hint of guilt for prying. As your eyes well up with tears once more, Sirius feels a pang of remorse for pressing the matter. He's about to apologize and suggest forgetting about it when you offer an answer, leaving him momentarily speechless.
"I overheard Peter and Remus." You confess, your voice trembling with vulnerability. Sirius forces down the surge of jealousy that threatens to consume him at the mention of Remus. 
"Peter told him that everyone thought he and I would get together." You continue, your words hanging in the air, heavy with disappointment and hurt. Sirius listens attentively, his heart aching for the pain etched in your voice.
"Remus told him that he couldn’t ever see me like that." You reveal, your voice wavering with emotion. "I know it’s stupid since he has a girlfriend, but-" You pause to draw in a shuddering breath, and Sirius gently brushes away the tears that cascade down your cheeks and over the bridge of your nose.
"It hurt," you confess, the rawness of your emotions laid bare. "That he’s never once seen me the way I have always seen him. We’ve always been just friends, and it sucks." Each word carries the weight of your longing and disappointment.
Sirius sighs, his voice tinged with empathy, "I love Remus, I do, but he can be blind sometimes. So in his head and down on himself that he misses what’s in front of him. And he truly missed out on the most perfect girl there is. But I promise you that there is a guy out there who will recognize what an angel you are, and he won’t ever let you go."
Your eyes well up with tears again, and Sirius starts to panic that he said something wrong. But then you're wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your head into the crook of his neck.
Your voice is muffled as you speak, "Please stay here with me tonight?"
"Whatever you want, angel." Sirius responds tenderly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, knowing there is no way he’d ever be able to deny you.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
James looks bewildered. "You aren’t going to sit with us?" he asks, confusion evident in his voice.
You stand behind your typical spot, observing the boys' reactions as they stare at you as though you've just delivered the worst news imaginable. For years, ever since you had met the boys, you had been sitting with them every day. This spot held a sense of familiarity and comfort, a symbol of your friendship with them. Thus, your decision to sit with the girls today comes as a major surprise.
Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas occupy seats further down the table. While they would occasionally join your circle, especially after Lily and James got together, Lily had once confided in you that she valued having space and prioritizing her friendships, too; she didn’t want to spend all her time with James. To everyone's surprise, James had been okay with this arrangement and had even agreed.
“I’m going to sit down the table with the girls. You’ll still be able to see me; we can wave at each other!” You offer James a hopeful smile, but he shakes his head, letting out a dramatic sigh.
Pointing his fork in your direction, James asserts, “It’s not the same, and you know it.”
“Sit with us, I feel like I hardly see you.” Remus protests and your stomach sinks as you make eye contact with him. Ever since you overheard Remus tell Peter he didn’t have feelings for you, you had been finding every excuse possible to avoid him.
It’s been a week since the party, and you can now admit that you've successfully avoided any alone time with Remus. By now, it's clear he senses something amiss. Every time he tries to approach you, you have an excuse ready for why you can't study together again or why you can't chat. What's worse is that it's only him you're avoiding. You still engage in normal chats with Peter in the common room and banter back and forth with James as usual. And Sirius, well, you hardly leave his side. Wherever you go, Sirius isn't far away, a constant presence by your side.
Not only that, but it seemed as if you couldn't get enough of each other—cuddled up on the common room couch, shoulder to shoulder during meals, and always side by side while walking to Black Lake. Sirius and you were growing increasingly closer with each passing day.
It was driving Remus crazy.
He looks at you pleadingly, his expression betraying the torment of seeing you drift away from him. You know his distress can't stem solely from your decision to sit with the girls. He started pulling away first, you think bitterly.
"Just wanted to spend some time with the girls, switch things up." You explain with a casual shrug, feeling a sense of awkwardness creeping over you as you shift on your feet. Remus wears a disappointed expression, while James and Peter appear to have already moved on, engaged in a bickering match over who gets the last orange.
"You've been switching things up quite a bit lately." Remus grumbles under his breath, his voice barely audible over the morning chatter in the dinning hall. Only Adeline catches his words as she pulls away to glance at his face, startled by the bitterness in his tone. Unaware of her scrutiny, Remus remains fixated on you, his expression betraying a mixture of longing and frustration.
"Okay, well, I’ll catch you guys later." You announce with a smile, and at that moment, Sirius glances up at you. He wants to tell you how much he'll miss you. Every morning, he eagerly anticipates the sight of your smile, the way you playfully bump your shoulder into his once you take your spot beside him. Your laughter and sweet smile are the highlights of his morning routine.
He'd gladly join you for breakfast with the girls if you asked.
To everyone's surprise, you sling your arms around Sirius' shoulders and tilt your head forward, looking at him from the side. Caught off guard, Sirius freezes in your embrace, trying desperately not to read too much into your unexpected touch.
"I'll wait for you so we can walk to class together. I'll miss you." You whisper, your lips pressing gently onto his cheek. A faint pink sheen of your lipgloss remains on his skin in the shape of your lips, a subtle reminder of your affection.
Before he can respond, you're already pulling away, leaving Sirius to watch you walk back to the girls. His cheeks flush, his mouth slightly parted in surprise. Remus narrows his eyes at the mark you've left behind while Adeline observes the interaction between Sirius and Remus, sensing Remus's agitation.
James lets out a low whistle. "She'll miss you, will she?" he remarks, his tone laced with amusement and curiosity.
“Oh fuck off, mate.” Sirius grumbles before taking a sip of his tea to try and hide his smile.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
You sigh, slumping down in your chair, "I don’t think I can handle another flashcard."
Sirius glances up from across the table, finding you lost in contemplation as you stare out the window. It's midday, and the sun's gentle rays illuminate the library, casting a warm glow despite the lingering chill outside. You both share the longing to step into the crisp air outdoors, yet Sirius remained steadfast in his commitment to assisting you with your studies.
"Do you wanna take a break?" Sirius asks, his gaze meeting yours as you glance up from the pile of books and notes spread out before you. Your lips press together, betraying the weight of your internal debate about whether you can afford to step away from your tasks.
"Come on, we can go for a walk." He encourages, his tone gentle yet persuasive as he begins to gather his belongings, preparing to pack his bag.
You concede, “A quick walk.”
The fresh air and the warmth of the sun against your skin felt rejuvenating after spending hours cooped up in the library. Your body ached, and your brain felt numb from the relentless studying. The only thing that kept you going was Sirius, who would slip you pieces of chocolate every time you answered a question correctly. Without him, you would have abandoned your studies hours ago.
As you walk, both of you are enveloped in a quiet tranquility, lost in your own thoughts. It's a comfortable silence, where neither of you feels compelled to fill the gaps with conversation. Instead, you simply bump into each other occasionally, exchanging shy smiles that speak volumes without a single word being uttered.
"Where are you taking me, Black?" You finally inquire, noting the direction as you pass Black Lake. You stroll leisurely, savoring the symphony of birdsong in the trees and the distant chatter of other students gradually fading into the background. Leaves shudder in response to the gentle breeze, prompting you to wrap your robes tighter around your body. Winter is approaching, and the biting chill in the air serves as a stark reminder of the season's impending arrival.
Sirius smiles in response, his expression warm and inviting, "Somewhere I think you'll like."
"Have I been there before?" You cast a glance at him, observing his wind-blown hair, cheeks flushed pink from the cold, and his bottom lip gently caught between his teeth.
"I hope not." He responds honestly, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. The possibility lingers, given that the boys are familiar with this field as well. The mere thought of Remus bringing you here tightens his chest. After all, you and Remus often took walks together, so it wouldn't be too surprising if he had.
Would Remus have brought you here, though? Sirius contemplates quietly. He's never heard you mention it, but he knows you would have. You've always cherished exploring the castle and eagerly shared your discoveries with the boys.
Sirius is startled when you suddenly gasp, excitement laced in your tone, "Oh my Godric. Is that a field of tulips?"
Sirius feels his heart swell at the excitement in your voice. Before he can respond, you stride ahead of him, drawn to the swath of red flowers like a magnet. He remains where he stands, content to watch you as you explore the vibrant field.
A pang of longing washes over him as he wishes he had Lily's muggle camera. This moment would undoubtedly be captured and proudly displayed above his desk among his collection of Polaroids.
"C'mere!" You call out excitedly, your hand extended towards him. Sirius grins, his heart lightening at your enthusiasm as he walks over to join you. Once he reaches you, he gladly grasps your hand, feeling a rush of warmth at the connection.
You lead him further into the field, your laughter carrying on the gentle breeze. Finally, you drop into the middle of the sea of tulips, tugging him along with you, and for a moment, the world feels suspended in the beauty of the moment.
Tilting your head towards the sun, you sigh happily. "I didn’t know this was here," you remark, your voice filled with wonder.
"Found it with the boys a couple of weeks ago." Sirius responds, his fingers idly twirling a blade of grass he plucked from the ground.
"Did you pick the tulips you gave me from here?" You inquire, your voice soft with curiosity. Sirius nods in response, a faint blush gracing his cheeks as he recalls the memory. He's relieved that your eyes are still closed, blissfully unaware of his flustered state.
For a few minutes, a comfortable silence settles between you both, allowing the tranquility of the moment to envelop you like a warm embrace.
"Can I tell you something?" You ask, tilting your head back down to look at him, your gaze soft yet curious.
"Anything," Sirius replies, his voice filled with warmth and genuine interest.
"I've never been given flowers before. Whenever you give me a tulip, it's the highlight of my day." You admit softly, shifting so you're sitting with your legs crossed, a vulnerable honesty coloring your words.
"You've never been given flowers? Ever?" Sirius questions, his surprise evident in his tone and expression. You shake your head in response, confirming his disbelief.
He can't even fathom it. How could no one ever have given you flowers before? How does the girl who constantly doodles flowers on her notes never receive them? The thought perplexes him, stirring a mix of incredulity and a newfound determination to ensure you receive the appreciation you deserve.
"Guess I'll be making up for that then." Sirius decides, his voice showing determination as he sends you a devastating smile. Your stomach flutters at the sight.
"Sirius." you say softly, drawing his attention.
"What, angel?" He responds, his tone gentle and attentive.
"Thank you. For being by my side through everything." You express with sincerity, your voice filled with gratitude. 
In the past few weeks, Sirius has been a constant presence by your side. Whenever Remus kissed Adeline, Sirius would offer a comforting touch, silently understanding your feelings. He'd weave silly stories to divert your attention from Adeline's flirtations with Remus, ensuring you never felt alone for even a moment.
He grins in response, "There's nowhere else I'd rather be."
“Nowhere else, huh?” Your tone is teasing, and Sirius merely rolls his eyes at you, a playful glint dancing in his eyes. You observe him as he picks tulips one by one, gradually assembling a bundle in his hand. Watching him put together a bouquet that you know he will give you fills you with a sense of anticipation. Everything about sitting in a field of flowers with Sirius makes you feel lightheaded as if you're caught in a blissful dream.
Come to think of it, lately, every time Sirius did something for you, it left you feeling dizzy.
"You know it's true. I ditched Hogsmeade this weekend to spend time with you in the library." Sirius says, a hint of amusement in his voice as he recalls the decision.
"That's true, but I did advise you against it. I doubt a day in the library is much of a weekend highlight for you." You reply, raising an eyebrow playfully.
"If you think seeing you surrounded by a field of flowers isn't a weekend highlight, then you're sorely mistaken. Easily a monthly highlight for me." Sirius adds, his eyes sparkling with fondness as he gazes at you amidst the scenic beauty.
“You flirt.” You giggle, your laughter echoing in the tranquil atmosphere, before reclining on the grass and shutting your eyes.
Sirius' features soften at your playful remark. "Only for my favorite girl," he responds tenderly, his voice carrying warmth and affection as he watches over you.
What started as a short walk stretched into two hours spent in the flower field, immersed in conversation and selecting the loveliest blooms together. By the end, Sirius presented you with a bundle of tulips in various hues. Upon entering your dorm room with the flowers in hand, Lily's gasp was so pronounced that it startled you.
“Tell me that Sirius got you those.”
"He picked them for me." You beam, offering the bouquet to Lily for her admiration. "I mean, I helped too, but it was mostly him.”
“Who knew that he was such a romantic?” Marlene gushed, sitting next to Lily on her bed to take a peek.
“I told you he’s into you! Look at these flowers!” Lily cried out, flopping back onto her bed with the flowers pressed into her chest. Marlene laughs from beside her.
You rolled your eyes affectionately, “We're just friends.” Marlene scoffs.
"No, you're not. That little stunt at breakfast you pulled this morning. Hugging him from behind and kissing him? Definitely not platonic." Marlene remarks, her tone teasing yet observant. Embarrassment floods through you; you hadn't planned on being so affectionate with Sirius; it just happened. You're grateful Sirius didn't bring it up; you probably would have collapsed if he had. 
"I just kissed his cheek!" you defend, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks.
Lily grins mischievously. "You should've seen how he looked at you when you walked away."
"Totally lovesick!" Marlene exclaims, adding her enthusiastic agreement to Lily's observation.
"Both of you are being ridiculous. He doesn’t have feelings for me, and even if he did, I need to get over Remus first." Taking the bouquet from Lily, you stride toward your desk to add them to your glass jar full of other flowers. You're almost out of the room. Soon you’ll have to pluck out the ones that are dropping, but you don’t have the heart to do it yet.
The girls were fully aware of the situation. You explained to them why you were so upset the morning after the party. There was no way you could have pretended like something wasn’t wrong. With Sirius sleeping in your bed and your swollen eyes, there was no hiding anything.
"First?" Lily's voice carries a hint of excitement, exchanging a giddy look with Marlene.
You pivot, leaning against your desk. "What?"
"You said first. Like once you get over Remus, you could see yourself being with Sirius."
"No, I didn't." You protest, embarrassment flooding your stomach.
Marlene's grin widens mischievously as she exchanges a knowing glance with Lily. "Oh, but you did. We both heard you."
A nervous laugh escapes your lips as you playfully roll your eyes, "Oh, fuck off, guys.” 
Your friends continue to tease you, their laughter filling the room. Perhaps you were starting to form feelings for Sirius, but you preferred to keep them close to your heart, away from the probing eyes of Lily and Marlene, who always seemed to pick up on every subtle shift in your emotions.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
“There you are! I was worried sick!” James exclaims as Sirius opens the door to the dorm. Remus glances up from his book, while Peter remains focused on his homework, unfazed by James' dramatics. Sirius, lost in memories of his afternoon with you, barely registers James' words as he flops onto his bed, a goofy smile lingering on his lips.
It's only when James tosses his pillow at Sirius that he snaps back to reality.
“Oi! What was that for?” Sirius protests, finally acknowledging James' presence with a bemused expression.
“You’re ignoring me!” James accuses, crossing his arms.
Sirius stammers, “I wasn’t! I was just-“
James interrupts, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “Daydreaming about Y/n? What did you two get up to anyways?”
Remus stiffens, lowering his book to look at Sirius, “You were with Y/n today?”
Sirius sits back up and exchanges a tense glance with Remus, “Yeah, I was.”
He turns to James, “Helped her study a bit.” He neglects to mention the flower field, wanting to keep that memory to himself. Plus, he knows the boys will tease them every chance they get.
James stares at Sirius, incredulity flashing across his face. "That's all? Sounds boring. Should've come to Hogsmeade with us."
Sirius is about to respond when Remus interjects, his tone betraying a hint of disbelief. "I'm sorry. You turned down Hogsmeade to study? With Y/n?" His eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
"Yes." Sirius says plainly.
“I’ll ask her to study.” Remus assures, as if that would settle Sirius.
Sirius shrugs, his tone nonchalant. "No need, mate. I've got her."
Remus furrows his brow, considering Sirius's response. "I can still ask her, give her another option," he suggests casually, but there's an undertone of something that Sirius can't quite decipher.
Sirius tenses, meeting Remus's gaze head-on. He's unsure if Remus is hinting at something deeper or if he's simply offering another study option. Nevertheless, Sirius feels a pang of reluctance at the thought of giving up his time with you, even for studying.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
Peter huffed, practically slamming himself on the couch next to you, his frustration evident in the way he dropped onto the couch. “Remus and Adeline are getting on my last nerve.”
James glanced up from where he was sitting across from you, his attention momentarily diverted from the game of cards. His eyebrows raised in curiosity as he observed Peter's demeanor. "They makin’ out in the dorm again?" he questioned, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips.
You turn your head to hide your reaction, your stomach churning with familiar discomfort. After nearly two months of their relationship, you still felt uneasy hearing about them together, effectively reminding you of your lingering feelings for Remus.
It would be a lie to say that your feelings for Remus hadn’t changed. In fact, you were beginning to notice a subtle shift in your perspective, a gradual easing of the discomfort that once swarmed your chest at the sight of him and Adeline together. That twinge of jealousy you used to feel when looking at them was easing up, instead being replaced by a dull ache in your chest.
You found yourself increasingly preoccupied with thoughts of Sirius, his smile and the memories of your time together occupying your mind more frequently than before. You caught yourself smiling at the little moments you shared, replaying conversations and gestures, finding comfort in the warmth of his presence even when he wasn't around.
Peter shook his head against the cushion, his expression irritated. "No, they’re bickering. They've been at it for nearly twenty minutes. Couldn’t get a damn thing done on this essay.”
James wore a look of surprise as he arched his eyebrow, “They’re fighting?”
Peter looked away from the fire to glance over at James blankly, “No, bickering. There’s a difference.” His tone is matter-of-fact and laced with frustration.
“We’ll be quiet, Peter. Work on your essay.” You promise, sending the blond boy a soft smile.
James’ lips curve in a mischievous grin, eyes lit up with amusement, “Guess all relationships have to come out of the honeymoon phase.” He quips, tone playful with satisfaction. Peter sighs, tipping his head back onto the headrest of the couch like he can’t take anymore.
“James, it’s your turn.” You call, the gentle tap of your pointer finger against the cards catches his attention. His eyes flicker down to the cards sprawled between you both before glancing back up at you.
“Did you at least appreciate my pun?” He asks, a hopeful upturn of his lips present.
“It was wonderful.” You affirm, voice soft as if you’re telling a young child that their artwork is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen.
James’s face lights up with a satisfied smile, and his voice is full of teasing gratitude, “Thank you, Y/n. I knew you would have my back.”
“What does she have your back about?” Sirius’ voice cuts through the air, his sudden appearance causing you and James to glance over at him. Peter opens one eye as Sirius sits on the couch next to him.
James stares at the cards while debating his next move, “She appreciates me for who I am. Maybe you should take some notes from her.” 
Sirius hardly hears James. Instead, his eyes flicker over to you. He finds himself entranced by the subtle movements of your features, the way your eyebrows furrow in playful impatience as you await James to decide. The glow from the fire is dancing over your face, and he has the urge to reach out and touch your cheek, tracing over where the heat has touched. You look gorgeous like this, drenched in the soft light of the fire and so at ease. The words are at the tip of his tongue, but he swallows them down.
As your eyes meet his, a gentle smile graces your lips, and Sirius feels his stomach flip and heart stutter. You’re looking at him with so much warmth that you could rival the fire next to you, and he knows he never wants to forget the way you’re looking at him.
Amidst the crackle of the fire and the soft murmurs of the surrounding conversations, it’s then that Sirius is struck by the sudden realization that sends shockwaves throughout his entire body. He is hit with the truth that he’s been avoiding for ages; he is entirely and desperately in love with you.
Sirius grapples with a fact that feels almost suffocating in its intensity. His gaze falls to his lap, the reality of his situation weighing heavily upon him. He’s in love with a girl who holds feelings for someone else. Not just someone else, but Remus. His best mate, who, as of lately, has shown increasing concern about the nature of your relationship with Sirius. The way he pinches his brows together when you laugh at a joke Sirius makes, the subtle shifts in his demeanor whenever you show Sirius affection- it’s all Sirius can focus on. Remus sees you in a different light, and it’s making Sirius uneasy.
And so, he sits in silence, grappling with the truth that he’s fallen for a girl that will never be his.
“Sirius,” You say softly, your hand gently resting atop his, hoping to bring him back from his thoughts. His eyes dart up to meet yours, and you smile softly. “You okay? You’re quiet.”
No, he isn’t. 
But instead, he offers a reassuring smile and squeezes your hand, “I’m okay, angel. Just tired.”
“Not too tired to lose to me in cards, are you?” James interjects, sporting a cocky grin and cracking his knuckles in intimidation. “I’m tired of playing with Y/n. She wins every time.”
Sirius laughs, hauling himself off the couch to sit beside you both before shuffling the cards.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
“Y/n.” You startle at Remus’ voice, nearly spilling your cup of tea down your front. He sends you a soft smile, sitting beside you on the couch. You set your tea on the table next to you. Sitting up and shifting your legs to the side and underneath you, you make room for him. The way you were stretched out before hardly allowed him any room.
“Rem.” You greet him, sending him a gentle smile. The corners of his mouth lift at the nickname; he hasn’t heard it for a while.
He leans back against the couch, gaze firm on you, “How was your day?” His voice is gentle and soothing. His voice was always one of your favorite things about him, always a source of comfort to you.
“It’s been alright, not too much to say about it,” Your left shoulder lifts up into a shrug, and you rest your right arm against the couch to prop your head up. Bodies both facing each other. “How was yours?”
“James nearly singed off my eyebrows in potions,” He says amusedly. He’s got bags under his, and his body seems tired. You cringe when you remember the full moon was just a few days ago.
“Not entirely surprising,” You remark with a laugh, mind trailing to all the times James had proved himself not the best partner. As much as you loved James, his tendency to get distracted had cost you during classes plenty of times before. 
“How’s Adeline?” You ask politely, the words coming out with practiced ease despite the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach. Remus’s smile falters, and he lets out a sigh, gaze drifting away from you.
“I don’t know.” He admits, hand coming up to run through his hair. He won’t meet your eye.
“You don’t know?” Your brow is quirks in curiosity, and genuine concern is etched onto your features. Memories of Peter complaining about the two bickering flickers back from a week ago.
“She’s not happy,” Remus confesses, his tone is heavy with resignation. “Disappearing for a couple days doesn’t exactly make me boyfriend of the year.”
You nod sympathetically. You understand, if you were in the dark about your boyfriend’s whereabouts for a couple days, you would be upset as well.
“Are you going to tell her?” You asked gently. It felt weird to talk to Remus again after going nearly two months without much interaction. All your time used to be spent with Remus, but Sirius seems to have taken that spot nowadays.
His gaze meets yours as he nervously bites at his bottom lip, he seems apprehensive, “I don’t know if she could handle it.”
“Rem,” You begin, voice soft and resolute, a reflection of the support you have always offered him. Despite the change in your relationship, your commitment to being there for him remains. “She deserves to know, especially if the two of you want to be together.”
His brows are pinched tightly together as he wrings his hands together, “What if she doesn’t take it well? What if she tells-”
You interject gently, “You’ve been dating two months, you should have a feel for how she would react.” 
He meets your eye with an uncertainty, “Y/n.”
“Yeah?” You respond, voice quiet.
“I don’t know if I can tell her. I don’t think it will be as easy as telling you was.”
“You shouldn’t compare her to me.”
“But I do.” Remus whispers, the gravity of his admission catching you off guard. His shoulders are hunched over as he rests his elbows on his knees, hands still nervously wringing together as he looks over at you.
Your breath is caught in your throat. You break eye contact to clear your throat, shifting uneasily on the couch.
“Adeline is your girlfriend, and I’m just your friend. You really shouldn’t compare us, Rem. If you want to be with Adeline, you should really think about telling her.” You murmur, truth stinging as it leaves your mouth.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
Marlene sighs, her voice laced with playful incredulity, "Sometimes I wonder how James Potter managed to get you." Sirius barks out a laugh from his spot across from you, his amusement echoing around the room. Lily's mischievous grin widens as she shoots a playful wink at Marlene, enjoying the banter.
"I'm a damn catch, McKinnon!" James retorts dramatically, pulling Lily even closer into his side, the affection between them palpable. Lily leans up to press a kiss on James’ jaw, a tender moment amidst the playful teasing.
"That lapdance you just gave your girlfriend? Horrific." Marlene shakes her head with exaggerated disdain, her expression a mix of amusement and mock disgust.
"If you didn't wanna see it, then you wouldn't have dared me to do it," James fires back with a smirk, the competitive edge still in his tone.
You're all gathered in a circle, indulging in a juvenile game of truth or dare. The boys took charge, rearranging the furniture into a circle so everyone could sit comfortably.
Marlene had insisted upon it, likely hoping to be roped into a dare that would bring her closer to Dorcas. 
You're seated on one of the couches beside Lily, with James on her other side and Peter beside him. Adeline occupies the space to Peter’s left, seated next to Remus on one of the smaller couches. Sirius has claimed an armchair for himself. Marlene and Dorcas are cozied up in another armchair, much to Marlene's delight over the seating arrangement.
While Remus had yet to tell Adeline about his lycanthropy, he was attempting to make amends with her. You sent him a sweet smile and thumbs up when you saw them walking in together. It was clearly tense between the two, but that was to be expected.
Amidst the laughter and playful exchanges, you had failed to notice the tension simmering between Sirius and Remus, evident in the disgruntled glances they exchanged at being seated next to each other.
James turns to you with a devious grin, “My sweet Y/n, you will be picking dare.”
“Excuse me? You can’t pick for me!” You retort, sending James an incredulous look.
“But I have the best dare for you!” James insists, leaning closer with a mischievous glint in his eye.
“No.” You refuse, shaking your head slightly.
“Y/n, please.” He pleads, attempting to send you puppy dog eyes. Marlene snorts from beside you.
Lily sighs, “Y/n, do the dare. He will beg you all night.” You roll your eyes, letting out a sigh that immediately lets James know you have given in.
“Kiss the person you are most attracted to in this room.” Your stomach sinks like a stone, regretting your lack of resistance to James. The group around you comes alive with oohs, except for Remus and Sirius, who sit uneasily, their expressions displaying discomfort.
“Absolutely not. I can’t!” Sirius feels sick. You’re refusing because you can’t kiss Remus- that has to be it. 
“Sorry, can’t back out now! Make your way over to the lucky person.” James sounds far too cheery to be sorry.
The tension in the air becomes palpable as everyone awaits your decision. You draw in a deep breath, summoning your courage before rising to your feet and crossing the room toward him. The anticipation is almost tangible as your friends murmur excitedly, their eyes fixed on you.
You come to a sudden halt, feeling your knees bump against his as he instinctively sits straighter in his chair. Sensing your approach, he spreads his thighs slightly, silently inviting you to take the space between them. His demeanor shifts, a mix of anticipation and apprehension evident in his expression.
"Might make it easier if you sit in his lap." Marlene suggests with a mischievous grin, earning a pointed glare from you over your shoulder.
"You can, angel," he murmurs sweetly, reaching out to gently grasp your hand, his touch reassuring and electric. 
You let out a shaky sigh, feeling a rush of nerves as you ease yourself into his lap, your knees sinking into the cushion and your thighs naturally bracketing his. Ignoring the whistles and playful comments that ring out from your friends, you focus on the warmth of his body beneath you, the steady rhythm of his breath, and the way his hands hover uncertainly before settling lightly on your hips.
"We're waiting!" James calls out, amusement laced in his tone, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Feeling a rush of determination, you gently bring your hand to his cheek, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver down your spine and lowering your head towards his. He's quick to meet you, his breath mingling with yours, noses bumping softly in a moment of sweet anticipation.
He's patient, his breath mixing with yours as he waits for you to make the first move. With a tender touch, you tilt your face closer, feeling the gentle brush of your lips against his in the softest kiss. For a fleeting moment, you both linger there, foreheads pressed together, lost in the moment’s intimacy.
“Tell me this isn’t because you couldn’t kiss him.” His voice is raspy, filled with longing, sending your mind spiraling. His voice is quiet, ensuring that no one will hear him but you.
“You’re the only one I thought of.” You admit softly, hoping you don’t sound nearly as wrecked as you feel.
Sirius surges forward, his lips meeting yours with a passion that catches you off guard, causing a surprised moan to settle in your throat, lost in the whirlwind of sensations and emotions. Your friends' whistles and hollers fade into the background, overshadowed by the intensity of your focus on Sirius.
Your fingers weave through his hair, a silent plea to draw him closer, to merge the space between you. His hand glides from your hip, settling tenderly against your cheek, his thumb tracing gentle circles across your skin. When you roll your hips involuntarily, Sirius lets out a tortured groan and your blood simmers.
"Okay, okay! We've seen enough!" James hollers, his voice breaking you both out of the moment. As James's voice echoes through the air, you part from Sirius, the gravity of what you have both just done settles in. Your chests heave in unison, lips swollen from kisses and cheeks flushed.
Frozen, you and Sirius sit there, stunned, oblivious to the teasing of your friends. The air crackles with tension as you both lock gazes, the desire to lean in and kiss him again overwhelming you.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
Your mind remains frazzled in the aftermath of kissing Sirius. No matter how much you attempt to push it away, it's as though your body stubbornly clings to the memory of his lips upon yours, as if you're still nestled in his lap, feeling the gentle pressure of his hands on your hips. Both of you exchanged shy smiles as you gently slid off his lap, yet inside, your stomach churned with disappointment at the prospect of returning to your previous seat. Truthfully, you wanted to linger longer, to settle beneath his arm, and remain close to him.
In all honesty, Remus didn't even flicker into your thoughts when James issued his dare. The realization of this truth sends a shiver down your spine. When had Sirius managed to steal the place in your thoughts that Remus had held for so long?
Perhaps it was in the way he had cared for you like no one else ever had.
The sight of a steaming cup of tea, reliably waiting for you in your designated spot at the table. Even when he could have been enjoying himself in Hogsmeade, he chose to stay behind and help you study, just because you mentioned not having Remus to study with. And the simple yet heartfelt gesture of presenting you with fresh tulips just because you mentioned you had never gotten flowers before.
How had you moved on from Remus without even noticing? Perhaps that subtle ache in your chest whenever you glanced at Remus and Adeline stemmed from the change in friendship between you both. Maybe those tear-filled initial weeks spent with Sirius comforting you were a form of grieving the relationship that could never be with Remus. 
While Sirius helped you to get over Remus, he had been gently guiding you toward developing feelings for him instead without even realizing it.
After watching your kiss with Sirius, Remus withdrew from the game entirely. The memory of your intimate moment with Sirius replayed incessantly in his mind, each repetition adding to the sting in his chest. In a fleeting moment of vulnerability, he had allowed himself to entertain the hope that it might have been him you chose to kiss. However, the presence of Adeline at his side swiftly extinguished that flicker of optimism, leaving him feeling profoundly disappointed and conflicted with himself.
The sight of Sirius enveloping you in his arms, and the undeniable chemistry between the two of you, stirred a thick feeling of dread in his stomach.
Each soft kiss, each exchanged glance, seemed to intensify the bitter pang of jealousy gnawing at his insides. It was as though a veil had been lifted, revealing a reality he had been trying to deny—the depth of his feelings for you. And the realization that he might lose you for good.
"Remus! Truth or dare?" Dorcas inquired, her eyes alight with mischief.
Remus let out a resigned sigh; he wasn't particularly in the mood to deal with a dare.
"Truth," he replied, hoping for a relatively simple question.
Dorcas wasted no time in posing her question, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Who was your first big crush?"
The simplicity of the question drew an immediate protest from James. "Lame!" he squawked, his tone dripping with dissatisfaction. "Ask him something better."
Marlene swiftly came to Dorcas's defense, her voice laced with defiance. "Back off, James," she retorted sharply. "She can ask whatever the hell she wants,” She bit out before turning to Dorcas. “Great question, love." Her words sounded entirely lovesick.
"Uh, my first big crush was Y/n." Remus confessed, his gaze darting toward you, eager to gauge your reaction amidst the tension. However, he failed to notice the subtle tensing of Adeline beside him, her expression morphing into one of disbelief as his words hung in the air.
Your brows furrowed, a mixture of confusion and frustration etched across your features as you processed Remus's unexpected admission. The weight of his words lingered, casting a palpable awkwardness over the group as you responded with an unimpressed look.
Sirius felt a surge of nausea rising within him, his gaze narrowing at Remus before anxiously darting over to you, waiting with bated breath to see how you would react to Remus's unexpected confession. Each second felt like an eternity as he searched for any sign of your thoughts or emotions, his heart pounding in his chest with a mixture of dread and anticipation.
As he watched your expression carefully, Sirius couldn't help but wonder what you were thinking. Were you filled with hope at his confession? Did you still want him?
“That’s not funny, Rem.” You retort, sending him an entirely unimpressed look.
“I’m not joking.” He insists, his voice has a hint of vulnerability in it. Adeline sends him an incredulous look, but his eyes are solely trained on you.
“That’s bullshit.” You countered, your voice laced with frustration as you pushed back. The tension between you and Remus was palpable, your friends watching both of you carefully. Unsure if they should intervene or not.
“It’s not. Started fourth year, I liked you for years.” Remus confesses, hand tugging through his hair in frustration.
“You said you would never have feelings for me.” Your brows are pinched in disbelief, your voice filled with hurt and frustration.
Remus looks entirely confused, “What are you talking about?”
“With Peter! At the party like a month ago.” You exclaim, memory fresh in your mind. While your feelings for Remus may have faded, the pain from his words hadn’t.
Remus shakes his head slowly, eyes searching yours for understanding, “I never said that, love.”
“You did. You told Peter, ‘I don’t think I could ever think about Y/n like that.’” You reiterated, your voice tinged with disappointment as Remus’s expression faltered, his own words echoing back to him.
“You didn’t hear the rest then.” He says, his voice filled with regret and desperation for you to understand.
Your frustration has bubbled to the surface, “Oh, great. So glad I didn’t stay to hear you continue about how awful it is that everyone thought we would end up together.” Your words are a mixture of sarcasm and hurt
"Y/n, I-" Remus began, his voice trailing off as you cut him off with a sharp interruption.
"Do you know what that feels like? To hear your best friend talk about you with so much disgust?" you demanded, the hurt evident in your voice as you confronted him head-on.
"I wasn’t disgusted!" Remus protested, his own frustration rising to meet yours. "You didn’t hear the rest!" he insisted, his tone tinged with desperation as he struggled to convey his side of the story.
"What else did you say?" It was Adeline who broke the tense silence, her voice cutting through the air like a knife. Remus's gaze shifted to her, startled by her sudden interjection. Her expression was one of disbelief, her brows furrowed and her arms crossed tightly over her chest, a silent testament to her own confusion and dismay at the unfolding situation.
"I said I didn’t think I could think about you like that because of-" Remus's voice faltered, his words hanging in the charged air. You leaned forward, your frustration palpable as you awaited his explanation, your gaze unwavering as you demanded clarity.
"Because of what, Remus?" You pressed, the tension thickening with each passing moment. Remus's eyes darted briefly to Sirius, a flicker of hesitation betraying his inner turmoil, but you caught the movement.
Sensing the rising tension, you glanced over at Sirius, who watches Remus with a tense look. His expression carried a silent message. Urging Remus to choose his words carefully.
“Don’t you fucking dare.” Sirius grits out, his voice laced with a raw edge of warning. Remus's uncertainty is evident as he grapples with what he’s just implied.
“Do you still have feelings for her?” Adeline's voice trembles with devastation as she poses the question, her heart laid bare in the vulnerability of the moment. Sirius's reaction is immediate; he stands up abruptly, his movements tense with unspoken frustration as he strides towards the stairs, refusing to linger for Remus's response.
“Sirius.” You call out desperately, rising to your feet swiftly to intercept him. He starts heading for his dorm, but you gently grab his wrist and guide him toward yours instead. Without a word, he follows your lead until you reach your door, both of you stepping inside quietly.
Sirius doesn’t utter a word, his silence filling the space between you as he leans back against your door. His head tilts upward, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as if searching for answers in its expanse. 
You step closer, closing the distance between you, your footsteps echoing softly in the quiet room. With a gentle touch, you place your hand on his cheek, a tender gesture designed to draw his attention back to you. You find yourself more preoccupied with Sirius than the recent events downstairs. Dealing with the situation involving Remus can wait; at this moment, your main concern is resolving things with Sirius.
He lets out a sigh, the weight of his emotions palpable as he drops his gaze from the ceiling to meet yours. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice laced with a mixture of remorse and vulnerability.
You can't help but laugh incredulously at his apology, the sound carrying a blend of surprise and amusement. "What are you sorry for?" You inquire, your tone gentle yet tinged with curiosity, as you search his eyes for the answer.
He sighs, “That you found out this way.”
“About what?” You both know that you already know the answer but that you just want him to say it.
“About Remus’s feelings for you, about my feelings for you.” Sirius admits, his voice soft as he swallows harshly.
You take a deliberate step closer to him, closing the gap between you with a sense of purpose. "And what are your feelings for me?" you repeat, your tone carrying a playful lilt, a silent challenge lingering in your words, daring him to bare his heart to you.
"Y/n," he pleads softly, his hands instinctively finding their place on your hips, drawing you closer to him just an inch. “Remus pretty much spelled it out, didn’t he?”
"I don’t want to hear it from Remus, I want to hear it from you.” You assert, your voice tinged with determination as you press closer to him. His eyes flit down to the diminishing space between your bodies.
He sighs, a soft exhalation laden with unspoken emotions, “You drive me crazy.” He confesses, shaking his head in gentle disbelief. A grin spreads across your face, your heart lightening at the familiar banter between you.
"Yeah? Is that all?" you tease, a playful glint in your eyes as your arms rise to encircle his neck, drawing him closer.
His gaze softens, a hint of vulnerability shining through as he meets your eyes. "I’m crazy about you, have been since the moment I met you." He confesses, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth.
His words ignite a flutter of excitement in the pit of your stomach, a giddiness that bubbles up from within. Unable to contain the surge of emotions, you rise onto your toes, closing the gap between you as your lips meet his in a gentle kiss. He lets out a surprised hum, circling his arms around your waist and hauling you into him.
He pulls back slightly, resting his forehead on yours, his expression tinged with uncertainty, "Y/n,” He murmurs, his voice laced with apprehension, “I can’t do this if you still want Remus.”
You pull back slightly, creating a small space between you yet maintaining the intimacy of your connection as you gaze into his eyes. "Do you think I would have followed you if I still wanted Remus?" You inquire softly, your voice imbued with sincerity.
"I meant every word when I told you that you were the only one I thought of for James’ dare." You continue, your words carrying a gentle reassurance, seeking to dispel any lingering doubts or insecurities that may linger between you.
"I want you, Sirius." You whisper earnestly, your voice soft yet resolute, laying bare your desires and intentions as you seek clarity and connection with him.
The smile he gives you is radiant, brimming with unabridged happiness, illuminating his features with an undeniable warmth that reflects the depth of his emotions.
"I've been dreaming of you saying that for ages." You squeal with uncontainable delight as he dips down and scoops you up, your legs instinctively circling his waist. Together, you embark on a journey towards your bed, his steps sure and purposeful, each movement imbued with a sense of anticipation and excitement.
He settles onto the bed, seating you gently in his lap, and you can't help but giggle uncontrollably, the sound filling the room with infectious joy as you revel in the sheer exhilaration of the moment shared between you.
As you lean down and press your lips onto his, he exhales softly, as if shedding all his worries, finding true peace in the gentle brush of your lips against his. He's never encountered a feeling of rightness as profound as this throughout his life. He is completely done for.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
Lily and Marlene didn't return to the dorm last night. After the awkward end to your game of truth or dare, you assumed they were giving you some space. And frankly, you were grateful for it. 
You weren't eager to delve into the topic of Remus confessing his past feelings for you. Although he didn't explicitly reveal whether or not those feelings still lingered, the reactions from both Adeline and Sirius served as a telling response.
You knew that a conversation with Remus was inevitable. Yet nervousness gnawed at you. What if there was no salvaging what remained of your friendship? Despite the awkwardness of the past few months, the desire to keep him in your life persisted, making the conversation all the more important.
The night unfolded with you and Sirius intertwined, lost in stolen kisses and hushed conversations within the dimly lit dorm. You had never felt so content in your whole life. Being with Sirius felt like a breath of fresh air. There were no lingering doubts about his feelings; his actions spoke volumes, leaving no room for uncertainty. Reflecting on the past, you couldn't help but wonder how you had ever been so blind to his affections.
“You almost ready m’love?” Sirius called, casting a glance your way as he deftly tied his tie in front of your mirror.
His endearment sent a flutter through your heart. It felt as though the kiss with Sirius last night had unleashed a torrent of emotions, flooding your senses with newfound intensity. It sent a thrill through your body, yet you felt somewhat disheartened as well. How had you managed to overlook Sirius for so long? He had been there all along, yet you found yourself pining over Remus, who had seemed indifferent to your feelings.
"Yeah, whenever you’re ready." You offered a soft smile as you slipped on your final shoe, steadying yourself with a gentle grip on the bedpost.
You rose to your full height, crossing the distance to Sirius, who advanced to meet you halfway, his hands finding their place on your hips. You encircled your arms around his neck, drawing yourself nearer to him. He smiled warmly down at you, delicately tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear before returning his hand to your hip.
"How do you want to go about this?" Sirius asked his brow furrowing with a hint of unease, his gaze searching yours for guidance.
Your brow pinched in confusion, "Go about what? Us?" For a brief moment, the idea crossed your mind – did Sirius want to go back to the way things were before? However, that thought evaporated as quickly as it appeared when you recalled the firmness of his embrace, the intensity in his gaze fixed upon you.
He nodded, his expression softening with concern. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I understand things might be tense with Remus, and I don’t want to make it harder for you."
"You know what I want?" Sirius tightened his embrace, prompting you to elaborate. "I want you to treat me like I’m yours, show everyone that we’re together. I couldn't care less about what anyone thinks." Both of you understood that anyone referred to Remus. Sirius remained silent, his gaze fixed on you, his expression indecipherable.
Your expression shifted to one of uncertainty, your brows furrowing slightly as you sought clarification. "We're together, right?" You asked, your voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability, searching his eyes for confirmation. 
Sirius's smile radiated such genuine warmth that a flutter of attraction danced in your stomach, “Yeah, baby. We’re together.” He couldn't fathom that he held you, his dream girl, in his arms, asking him if the two of you were together. It took him a moment to fully grasp the reality of the moment. 
He continued, “Don’t think that I’m not going to properly ask you to be mine, though, because I will. I promise.”
Unable to resist, you leaned in, capturing his lips with your own. Instantly, he responded, returning the kiss with equal fervor and intention.
With a reluctant sigh, you pulled away, your fingers lingering against his cheek as you whispered, "We need to get to breakfast."
"I think I can starve." Sirius shrugged nonchalantly, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes as he leaned down to capture your lips once more.
You couldn't help but giggle, gently pushing him away, "Stop it, we gotta go. We’re going to be late." You insisted, a hint of laughter dancing in your voice as you playfully nudged him towards the door, the lingering taste of his kiss still tingling on your lips.
As you entered the common room, a wave of surprise washed over you at the sight of all your friends gathered, comfortably sprawled across the couches and armchairs. You slowed to a stop, catching Sirius off guard as he turned to follow your gaze, his eyes widening in surprise as they landed on the familiar faces of your friends.
"We wanted to make sure you two were okay after last night," Lily paused, her gaze piercing as she shot a pointed glare at Remus, who visibly shrank into the couch cushions. He appeared exhausted as if he hadn't slept all night, and you couldn't help but notice Adeline's absence beside him. 
"But it looks like everything is good?" Lily continued, her voice hopeful as her eyes dropped down to where your hand intertwined with Sirius'.
"Everything's fine," you affirm, offering a soft smile as Sirius squeezes your hand reassuringly. "But I need to talk to you, Rem. Alone.” You add, your tone gentle yet firm, conveying the importance of the coming conversation.
Sirius is the first to break the tense silence, shifting slightly while the others remain rooted in place, their eyes flitting between Remus and you. The atmosphere feels charged with unease, and you can sense the weight of Lily's unspoken words lingering in the air, knowing full well she gave Remus a piece of her mind the moment you left last night.
Before he can move away, you pull him back, your hand gently tugging him closer as you press your lips to his. A surprised sound escapes him before his hands come up to hold your cheeks. Remus clenches his jaw, unable to watch as you both melt into each other. 
James lets out a low, appreciative whistle, and Lily suppresses a smile behind her hand. Peter and Dorcas avert their gaze shyly while Marlene beams at the sight of Sirius melting into you. It's evident that they're all on Team Sirius.
As you both draw back, your gazes locked in mutual adoration, Sirius places another swift kiss on your lips. "I'll have your tea waiting for you," he promises softly.
A bright smile spreads across your face. "Thank you," you reply, your voice filled with warmth and gratitude.
As Sirius finally draws back, the others follow suit. James is already by his best friend's side, chatting animatedly. Lily and Marlene exchange knowing grins with you, silently promising a conversation later. Meanwhile, Peter and Dorcas trail behind, engaging in casual conversation as they meander along.
You sigh, bracing yourself for what promises to be an awkward conversation, and then take a seat beside Remus on the couch. The tension in the air is palpable, amplified by the near emptiness of the common room. Remus sits up straight, stealing a glance in your direction, his demeanor reflecting the unease of the moment.
“Are you okay?” Remus looks mildly surprised, that wasn’t the first thing he expected you to ask.
He clears his throat nervously, “Uh, I’ve been better, honestly. Are you?” 
He observes as you gracefully draw your legs onto the couch, tucking them underneath you. Finally, you meet his gaze, and he's momentarily taken aback by your beauty. A pang of regret hits him like a wave – he wishes he had confronted his feelings for you earlier. Perhaps then, it would have been him sharing kisses with you instead of watching you with his best mate.
"I'm good." Remus watches as you absentmindedly bring your fingers up to brush against your lips, a lovesick expression softening your features. You appear momentarily lost in thought, a dazed quality to your gaze. 
Clearing your throat, you shake off your thoughts, "But I'm disappointed about last night. What on hell was that?"
"Y/n," Remus's voice quivered with sincerity as he addressed you, his eyes reflecting the remorse weighing heavily upon him. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to upset you." He whispered, the words thick with sincerity.. 
You sighed, the weight of your frustration and disappointment lacing your tone, "And Adeline?" Remus looked startled. In the wake of you rushing to follow Sirius, Adeline had bravely broached the subject of his feelings towards you. Caught off guard, Remus found himself grappling for words, acutely aware of his friends' scrutinizing gazes, which bore a mixture of astonishment and disapproval. His hesitation was a silent confession to Adeline, who gathered her belongings swiftly, her departure punctuating the air with an unspoken disappointment. In the ensuing silence, Remus remained rooted, torn between pursuing you and granting you the space he sensed you needed. Regrettably, the thought of going after Adeline hadn't even crossed his mind amidst the dread sitting heavy in his stomach. Remus understood he had messed up, and the weight of his mistake hung heavy upon him.
“She left. I don’t blame her, I hurt her. Who gets a girlfriend when they have feelings for someone else?” A laugh escaped Remus, laden with incredulity. 
His words prompted you to avert your gaze, a subtle gesture betraying the unease settling in the pit of your stomach. The acknowledgment that his feelings for you still lingered left you with an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach.
Silence settles between you both, and it's excruciatingly awkward.
“I’m falling in love with Sirius,” You blurt out, nervously stealing a glance at him, eager to gauge his reaction. “I just, I need you to know that there’s no way anything could’ve happened between us. A couple months ago it would’ve been entirely different. But I was devastated, Rem. Do you know how hard it was for me to watch you be with Adeline? How much that hurt? And then you just admit you have feelings in front of everyone no less, like it wasn’t a big deal. In front of your girlfriend, who clearly cares so much about you. I don’t understand.”
"Dorcas asked—" He began, his voice sounded shaky.
"But you could've passed, or chosen to say another old crush's name!" Your interjection cut through the air, sharp and pointed.
"But there wasn't anyone else." He countered, his words tinged with a hint of desperation.
"Remus." His name hung in the air, heavy with frustration. You sent him with a glare heavy with irritation, and the intensity of your gaze churned a nauseating knot in his stomach.
"I was jealous, okay? To see Sirius hold you and kiss you like I have always wanted was awful. I couldn’t get you out of my head, and then Dorcas asked, and I just said your name."
"Godric, Rem!" You huffed, frustration coloring your tone. "If you had just told me months ago, we could’ve avoided this entire mess." Remus opened his mouth to speak, but you interjected, your words tumbling out with raw emotion. "But at the same time? I’m so grateful that you didn’t tell me, and that Sirius was there, because then I would’ve missed out on a guy who was never afraid to show me that I was his first choice.”
Remus remained silent, his gaze fixed intently on his intertwined fingers. You sat tense on the couch beside him, the air heavy with unresolved tension.
Remus’ eyes are filled with tears when he turns to you, “I know there’s no chance for us anymore, but Y/n, I don’t want to lose you as my best friend. Not having you around the last couple months have been hard. I miss you, and I understand if you’re not ready for that or don’t even want to be my friend. But Y/n, I will do anything to make this up to you.”
 You felt a lump form in your throat, a wave of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. With a harsh sigh, you turned to Remus, your gaze a mixture of hurt and determination.
"Our friendship won't be fixed right away," you admitted, the words weighted with the frustration that had been simmering beneath the surface. "I'm still frustrated with you." You confessed, your voice tinged with the raw honesty of your emotions.
“Y/n, I’ll do everything to make it up to you. I know everything won’t go back to the way it was, but I just want to be your friend.” His words carry genuine remorse, and you crack.
“Remus, come here.” You extended your arms toward him and Remus engulfs you in his embrace, his fervor nearly knocking you off balance.
You're both holding onto each other tightly, finding comfort in having each other back. A few tears escape your eyes, tracing silent paths down your cheeks as you find solace in the warmth of his embrace.
"I missed you too." You mumble softly into his chest, your words muffled by the fabric of his shirt.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
The familiar ease you once shared with Remus doesn't return immediately, but both of you are committed to rebuilding your friendship, to rediscovering that ease and comfort your relationship used to provide. But the effort that is being made means the world to you. 
And so it begins with catching up on reading together. You sit beside Remus on the plush couch, matching copies of a book cradled in your hands as you both immerse yourselves in its pages. Nearby, Marlene and Lily are nestled by the crackling fire, engaged in animated conversation about Marlene's impending decision to finally ask Dorcas out. Peter lounges lazily in an armchair, a contented smile playing on his lips as he indulges in chocolates, his attention drifting between the gossip and the flickering flames.
Sirius's laughter rings out, drawing your gaze toward him like a magnet. You shift your focus to the common room entrance, where Sirius and James have just arrived, their hair still damp from their post-practice showers.
You sit up straighter, a subtle movement, that draws Remus's attention to you. Following your gaze, Remus's eyes shift in the direction of Sirius, who is in the midst of a hearty laugh spurred on by James's joke. However, as Sirius turns and locks eyes with you, his laughter fades into a tender smile, his expression melting into one of affection and adoration. James catches sight of Lily across the room and wastes no time in making his way over to her, his trademark mischievous grin already in place.
"James!" Lily cries out, her voice a mixture of exasperation and amusement, as she dodges away from the curly-headed boy who is shaking his dripping wet hair over her. Marlene's laughter fills the air, and Dorcas grins from beside her. Despite Lily's attempts to escape, James encircles his arms around her waist, drawing her back against his chest, his satifsfied grin matching her infectious laughter. 
“I can’t stand you, James Potter.” Lily sighs, leaning back against James and shaking her head disapprovingly.
Sirius laughs, watching Lily pretend to be annoyed with James, before settling into the seat beside you, a comfortable familiarity enveloping the space between you. When he leans in to press a gentle kiss against your lips, you instinctively lean into his touch, savoring the warmth of his affection. Remus's gaze momentarily drifts away, a subtle pang of jealousy tugging at his chest as he watches the way you lean into his best mate.
In truth, Remus found himself uncertain of his standing with Sirius. Him and Remus were limited in their interactions lately, both boys feeling tense around the other. Unbeknownst to you, Remus flinched involuntarily every time Sirius drew near to you, displaying his lingering feelings for you. Sirius, though not proud of it, found himself grappling with a twinge of possessiveness whenever Remus was close to you. 
Sirius pulled back slightly, a warm smile gracing his features as he met your gaze, "Hi, m'love." He murmured softly, his voice laced with affection and tenderness.
You couldn't help but return his grin, feeling a rush of warmth at his endearing greeting, "Hi." You replied, your voice filled with warmth and fondness, mirroring the affection reflected in his eyes.
"What are you doing tomorrow?" Sirius's voice broke the silence, his arm casually draping around your shoulder, drawing you into his side. Your book lay forgotten as his presence captivated your attention.
"Just some studying." You replied, the thought of books and lectures suddenly fading into insignificance.
Sirius leaned in closer, his lips grazing against your ear as he whispered, "I wanna take you somewhere tomorrow." The words stirred memories of a few months ago when you were seated on this very couch with him, grappling with the heartache of trying to move on from Remus.
"Will this be a date?" You asked, unable to contain the excitement bubbling in your voice.
"Yes, angel." Sirius replied, his words soft and tender as he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. A radiant grin spread across your face as you reached for your book once more, the anticipation of the upcoming date dancing in your thoughts.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
Almost a week slips by before you and Sirius manage to carve out time for a long-awaited date. As Sirius leads you on a walk, your heart swells with emotion when you realize he's taking you to the tulip field. Despite the lingering chill in the air, the sight of the vibrant flowers and the sun's gentle rays reflecting off Black Lake fills you with warmth.
"You're such a romantic." You giggle, leaning into Sirius even more. He responds with a bashful smile, his cheeks tinged pink. You're not sure if it's from the cold or your teasing.
"I didn't know if it would be a good place for a date or not." He admits, his cheeks coloring with embarrassment. He had spent the last week agonizing over where to take you. When he ranted to Peter about it, Peter simply shrugged and suggested Hogsmeade. Sirius had scoffed, his tone teasing yet earnest, telling him he better step it up if he wanted to impress a girl.
"Sirius, this is the cutest spot for a date. Plus, it has meaning to us." You tell him sincerely, and Sirius feels his heart flutter at the term us. He wonders if he'll ever get over the fact that he has his dream girl in his arms, looking at him the same way he looks at you.
As you draw closer, the perfumed air carries the unmistakable scent of spring, and the gentle buzzing of bumblebees near the flowers fills your ears. The sounds evoke a sense of nostalgia, transporting you back to your childhood days spent playing in the garden.
"Merlin, I was so stressed about it. I've never planned a date before. I mean, I've gone on dates, but I've never felt this determined to impress someone as much as I have with you," he sighs as if releasing all of his pent-up stress. "I even asked Peter where I should take you."
"Did you? Well, I think this is perfect." You grin, withdrawing your hand from his to lay out the blanket. The thought of crushing tulips under the blanket makes you cringe, so you search for a barren patch to place it over. With care, you shake out the blanket, letting it flutter gracefully before plopping onto it.
Leaning back on your palms, you watch Sirius, who remains standing where you left him, your copy of Pride and Prejudice in his hands. A soft smile graces his lips as he gazes at you as if you're everything he's ever dreamed of.
"Are you going to join me or just stare?" You question, patting the spot next to you invitingly.
"I quite like staring at you." He grins, sending you his famous smile. 
He sits down next to you before laying back and allowing the sun to settle on his skin. The warmth of the rays feels comforting, especially after the last couple of days filled with rain. The melodic songs of birds in the surrounding trees and the sound of your gentle movements create a soothing ambiance, putting him at ease.
You shift, settling onto your back, your eyes tracing the patterns of the soft clouds as they leisurely drift across the vast expanse of the sky. The birds' playful chirps and flutters among the trees add to the serene atmosphere. Sirius follows suit, adjusting his position to face you. As he watches you, he's captivated by the delicate play of sunlight on your features, accentuated by the colorful tulips that bloom around you, adding a vibrant backdrop to the tranquil scene.
He can hardly believe that he's lying next to the girl of his dreams, the one he's thought of for years, yearning for even a moment of her attention. Memories flood back countless times when he watched you with Remus from afar, consumed by jealousy for the time Remus got to spend with you. He would have given anything for just a few minutes alone with you to share a moment that belonged solely to the two of you.
"I talked to Remus earlier today." You remark, his nose crinkling slightly with an involuntary pang of jealousy at the mention of his friend's name. It's become almost instinctual by now. 
"He apologized to Adeline," You start, your expression thoughtful. "He mentioned it started off rough, but in the end, she forgave him, and they wished each other the best."
He hums, “That’s good.”
You giggle, “That’s all?”
Sirius hums softly, propping himself up on his elbow as he gazes down at you. "I'm glad they've found that closure," he murmurs, his tone laced with a hint of distraction.
Feeling his unwavering focus, you gently divert your attention from the sky to meet his gaze. His eyes are locked onto yours with such intensity that it causes a flutter in your chest, leaving your breath caught in your throat. 
He lifts his hands, delicately brushing his thumb against your bottom lip. A small, involuntary sound escapes you, and Sirius responds with a devastating smile, a hint of playfulness dancing in his eyes.
"I don't want to talk about anyone else but us." He whispers, his voice filled with sincerity. His gaze softens as his fingers trace gently across your cheeks, his hand coming to rest on your face, his thumb tenderly brushing against your jawline.
"What about us in particular?" You inquire, the words escaping in a breathless whisper. Your heart quickens its pace, a rhythmic drumming echoing the intensity of the moment, a sensation that always accompanies Sirius's proximity. The air feels charged with anticipation, every nerve tingling with the electricity of his presence.
"I can't get enough of you," he confesses, leaning in to press a soft kiss against your cheek. "How you never leave my mind," he adds, tenderly planting a kiss on your other cheek.
"How you make my heart flip every time I look at you." His lips brush against your forehead before he leans down to rest his against yours. Your eyes flutter closed at his proximity, your body nearly buzzing from the giddiness and anticipation coursing through your veins.
"How my heart is entirely yours." His voice trembles slightly, revealing the depth of his emotions as he utters those heartfelt words, “And that I am hopelessly in love with you.”
Your eyes widen, catching his apprehensive gaze, his nerves evident as he awaits your reaction to his confession Without hesitation, you thread your fingers through his hair and gently pull him down to you, closing the distance between your lips and his in a sweet, affirming kiss.
Sirius lets out a moan, his thumb continuing to brush over your cheek as he deepens the kiss. The warmth of his lips against yours is accompanied by a gentle exploration, each movement conveying a depth of emotion and desire that leaves you breathless. The air is charged with an electric intensity, and in that moment, it feels like time stands still, allowing you to savor the overwhelming connection and longing between you.
You pull away just slightly, your voice trembling with emotion as you gaze into his eyes. In the hushed intimacy of the moment, surrounded by the soft rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds, you utter those three profound words, "I am so in love with you. "
Sirius lets out a disbelieving laugh, his smile widening as euphoria bubbles within him. Without hesitation, he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a fervent and intense kiss that elicits a desperate moan from your lips. You've never experienced a kiss like this before, filled with such raw passion that it feels like every nerve in your body is set ablaze as if you could melt into him right there and then.
"Please be mine." Sirius pleads, his voice laced with longing and vulnerability against your lips. 
A tender smile graces your lips as you respond, your voice soft and filled with affection, "I'm already yours."
While nestled in the field of tulips, Sirius confesses to you that the very first tulip he gifted you was, in fact, a declaration of his love.
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cuthechicane · 3 days ago
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Full paywalled version of Lando's interview with The Race
Lando Norris recently sat down with The Race's Scott Mitchell-Malm for an exclusive in-depth interview about his 2024 Formula 1 title bid, taking on Max Verstappen and how fans perceive him.
You can read Scott's take on how Lando presented himself on The Race website today, but here's their conversation in full:
The Race: How do you look back on the year so far? Purely from a numbers point of view, you'd surely have taken that at the start of the year. But in terms of how it's played out, is there any kind of sense that there was a bit more on the table, missed opportunities?
Lando Norris: Err…for sure. I think that's quite obvious. Not as many as people think. And I think people in general think it's been a lot worse than what it's been. I think a lot of people think we've been a lot quicker than we have been. So I'm sure a lot of people will disagree with it. But I think those times, it’s a compliment that people think that, because it shows how far we've come. And I'm proud that in those days, whether Singapore or Zandvoort, I've still been the one that's there and making the most of those opportunities when we have a car that's quick enough. 
But there's clearly ones that we've definitely let things go away, which is Silverstone, Canada-ish – I wouldn't say completely. Maybe one or two others. But I think the other ones are the ones that people want to believe were bad for different reasons. Whether it was my starts, and those days when the starts have been ‘bad’ that everyone says, I've generally still been in the top three, four, five of starts. Even on those days. If you look at Barcelona, when I had a 'bad' start everyone says, the best starter in that race was Max. And I think I was like the third or fourth third best starter on the grid. It's just I happened to be next to the guy who got the best start.
The Race: Who wasn't the guy who ended up leading into Turn 1 anyway...
LN: He was the guy who had the seventh or eighth best start! The other one I’d say was a bit more unlucky was Budapest, where my initial start was very good, a tiny, tiny bit too much wheelspin and a downgraded upshift, and that kind of cost me that. So I think it's been better than people have thought. There's definitely been some missed opportunities, that's a fact. But I'm very happy with my whole season. I still feel like I've got a lot out of it. Things have not just gone to plan. Even if you go back to Austria and things like that, a race that I could have been first or second, whichever way around you want to look at it, I ended up with zero points. There's been certain races which have gone away from us. 
The fact that we're still there fighting, I'm pretty happy with the whole season that I had, because it's clear when things do go right, how amazing that they can be.  It's been still a big learning year, even though it's my sixth year and all of this nonsense, I still have to learn how to drive the car in a better way, because I still don't understand it at times. How we have to drive our car has changed a good amount, and I still have to adapt to that. Some days it doesn't suit me, some days it does. So I think it's still been a very good year, and from the outside, I understand why people think it hasn't been. And I completely almost agree with it! But once you know reasons why, of different things, I'm still pretty proud of the season it's been so far.
The Race: There's a difference between how you imagine it being when you get a car that's quick enough to fight every weekend, and then obviously what it's really like. You've learned some things the hard way, so what's that actually been like?
LN: It's been good for me. Whether I'm racing the likes of Lewis a bit more, or Max is probably the best example of all of them...Charles, Carlos, George, to be honest, all the drivers who are up the front because they deserve to be. Thing is suddenly, when I'm racing them, I'm fighting them for a win. So not coming out and doing a perfect job against these drivers, mainly Max in this case, means I win a race or I don't win a race, and therefore it hurts a bit more and it feels like there's a bigger effect to it all. 
There's more criticism or praise, whichever way around. You win, suddenly you have a lot more praise. You do one mistake, you suddenly have a lot more criticism. But I think both are good things, because people either want you to do well or they want to stand out because they want to be someone that criticises you even more. Both are compliments in ways, and I've enjoyed both of them. 
But I've paid the price, more so in terms of a championship point of view, when I’ve not done things to the correct level. And I think there's so many things that have been great, and have been completely up to the standard that it needs to be. A couple of things have not been. And I paid the price for those situations, because I'm going up against, whether it's Red Bull or Mercedes or Ferrari, on top of being strong teams, great drivers. You get punished more at the top when things don't go right than you do when you're more midfield.
The Race: There's a quote from a few years ago about Lewis Hamilton only having to beat his team-mate, in the context of a dominant team. That's exactly not the situation that you've had this year. But in terms of execution, finding out how hard it is to make sure that every single qualifying session, every start, every judgment in the race with the team – what's that been like? Because I can imagine that idea that 'once I get a car that's quick enough, I'll do it'. 
LN: First of all, I would never think that! For anyone who knows me, that's definitely not how I think. But I would say it's as tough as I've imagined because so many things can still easily go against you, even when you have the best car. Make one mistake in a Q3 lap, you're not on pole when you should have been. You don't have a perfect start when the guy who starts P2 does a perfect start, you’re P2 when you shouldn't have been. 
There's been a couple when we were so dominant – like Zandvoort – it doesn't matter if you made the mistakes at the beginning. You can come back through and you can still dominate and easily win a race. But for the majority, when people think we've had the most dominant car ever, those positions [lost] have just been costly positions. I’ve been on pole by three thousandths or five thousandths or two hundredths, and those positions are positions that just stay for the rest of the race. 
But I've always known that – it’s always just the harsh reality of when you're there, and actually you're living that situation, it’s tough to then always be positive for the next race and things like that, and know when things are going to get better. It's been a learning point, still for me, but even for the whole team, whether it's mechanics, because they feel a bit more pressure when we're leading a race compared to when we compared to when we were 10th, or the engineers because the last pole was split by three thousandths, or one hundredth of a second. Everyone wants to play a part in that, but also feels the pressure of it, including me. I think everyone's dealt with it very well.
The Race: We've seen with various drivers, whenever there's a clash with a popular driver, someone ends up getting pelted on social media. But I don't think I've seen a driver with such a negative narrative against them as I’ve seen with you this year...
LN: Yeah, I don’t know why.
The Race: You’ve noticed it as well. How do you feel about that?
LN: I find it…I find it's a little bit weird, because I read all those things. I wouldn't say I'm affected by them, but I do think of them. Do I think it affects me negatively? No. Because I've actually been used to doing that for a while. I've learned how to read things and choose what I want to affect me and almost help me be better or choose what I just want to let slip away, and I just read it for the fact of reading. 
Certain things I’d say I don't understand how people have gotten that perception. And that's when I always just have to come back to the people who know me, know that this isn't the case. And I'm very happy just knowing that as a fact. There’s certain things when I'm like, people think my ego is too big or something, it couldn't be further from the truth - especially when I'm driving. Maybe sometimes I choose wrong words or something, and people somehow use that against me.
But I think there's more and more people in the world just either don't want to listen to the truth and sometimes I think when I say the truth or facts, people just don't want to agree with them, or they want to disagree and kind of prove me wrong. But I find it odd as I feel like I haven't changed. Maybe I have, in certain things. Definitely some things have changed. I definitely don't go around and joke and laugh as much as I used to, and I think people loved that and maybe don't like it as much now I don't do such a thing. But I’ve definitely noticed it, for whatever reason. 
The Race: It's stuff as a driver, not just you as a person. You mentioned the idea you’ve got a dominant car stuff but it’s also your championship credentials and stuff like that. Maybe some people just want to just stick the knife sometimes, in a way that I personally don’t understand.
LN: Neither do I, but it's why like I always say, it doesn't affect me. I see it still as if I know I said something or I've done something wrong, I accept it. I've always been honest with when I've done a good job and done a bad job. So when I know I've done something wrong, or someone tells me I've done something wrong, I'll always accept it and acknowledge that in the right way. But when I know for a fact I haven't, and people kind of make things of it or turn it into something where I have, there’s some kind of stuff I don't understand. Especially the amount of negative stuff I get nowadays, I almost want to say for no reason. 
It puzzles me a little bit. Doesn't affect me in a good way or a bad way. People can have their own opinions. And I'm all up for people having their own opinions and supporting different drivers and not supporting me – I'm very happy about that. But turning things that are not true into what they think are facts is probably stuff that I don't understand as much. And it's confused me a little bit, but I don't think it affects me in a bad way. I do think of it because I'm an overthinker, and I think of all of those things, so I'll question myself about all of it. But I wouldn't say it affects how I go out and drive the next day all of a sudden, or anything like that, which is the main thing. 
I think it's turned into being a bit of a part of… I don’t have to read any of it, you know? So I can also not have social media, but I enjoy it still. It'll still affect me on days, but it's not like it affects how I go racing or anything else, so I don't mind. I just don't like when people have the wrong opinion about me. Because I don't mind people having different opinions, but stating incorrect things is probably the thing that I don't understand, and probably the thing that gets to me the most. But it doesn't affect my day to day life at all. And I'm very happy with the people I have around me, my group.
They're the people who are being more honest with me about when I'm doing well or when I'm not, or whether I'm being a dick, and when I'm not. I prefer people to tell me that, than not to tell me that. The reason I really don't care about what people say so much is because I know the people who actually most know me best and are most truthful about everything are just the people I have around me, and I’ll listen to them more than I'll ever listen to people on the outside.
The Race: One final thing as we sort of got side-tracked there: 18 months or so ago I interviewed you in Australia which basically turned into an opportunity to justify your new contract, because the team was in a bad place and there was a lot of noise. You always stuck to your guns. How vindicated do you feel by this season, and how excited are you for next year, because both titles have got to be the aim?
LN: That's very clear. We all as a team know that next year is the year, probably the first one since I've been in Formula 1, where I can go next year ‘We are challenging for the title’.  And we can say that now already. We've never been able to do it in the past. I'm very happy that I've stuck with the team that I believed in even when a lot of people didn't. I'm very happy that I just had that belief in the team. But also just for all of that to actually come true even when it was hard to believe at times. When we could take kind of two steps forward and then step back, and then catch up and then drop back. 
There were times when I did question it for sure, on what's the best for my future and what do I want to do and those kinds of things. But for me to always return to the belief that the team around me, whether it was Andreas [Seidl] a few years ago when we took a step forward, for sure – but then Andrea [Stella], for me, has been the key to everything. And the fact we've been able to go from where we were to beating Red Bull, when not even 12 months ago they had the most dominant season...the fact that we're now beating them, we've been beating them almost since Miami-ish, and we've been on par with them since Miami, that’s an incredible achievement. 
I'm very happy that I've been part of it all. I'm happy that I stuck through the harder times when I easily could have picked an easier route out of it, could have gone to different teams and done all this other stuff. I feel like I've rewarded myself nicely for having the belief in the team, and I think the team understands that too - the journey that we've been on together - and I think they appreciate that, which probably makes me the happiest out of all of it.
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reignpage · 2 days ago
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Hi!! If you have the time- how would the jjk guys react to the reader giving them the silent treatment?
I hope you're having a wonderful day!
Gojo:
Would try to make you laugh at first When that doesn't work and he notices you're just getting more irritated, he'd start bribing you Buys you flowers, handbags, dresses, jewellery you name it If you're still silent, then he'll go deadly serious Would confront you in the dark, sitting on the sofa like he's been waiting for hours 'Is there nothing I can do? Are we done for good? Are you leaving me too?'
Geto:
Gets snarky Two can play that game He's not the calm and patient guy everyone thinks he is He just reacts in subtle ways Makes passive-aggressive comments But eventually will get tired, sighs and just asks you straight up what he did wrong 'Alright, what happened? Let me inside that head of yours.'
Choso:
Keeps asking you what's wrong Gets really sad and depressed Very much kicked puppy vibes Just follows you around everywhere Until you crack 'I didn't know what I did but I'm sorry. Please talk to me? I'm scared'
Toji:
LOL LMFAO ROFL This man would be soooo annoying He'd be smug as hell at first Says shit like 'It's nice to have peace and quiet here' 'You should get mad at me more often ma' BUT eventually realising you're not gonna crack He'll start to get nervous Starts cleaning up after himself Double checks to make sure the trash is out, he hasn't left any dishes in the sink, didn't miss any appointments or anniversaries etc etc Would send Megumi in to get a feel for your mood 'make yourself extra cute kid' 'ask her why she isn't speaking to me. no don't tell her I told you to. whose side are you on?'
Nanami:
Would ask you immediately if there's something wrong Is so mature and healthy it's irritating 'please communicate with me, darling. I can't apologise and fix whatever I ruined if you don't talk to me.' Eventually, he'll give you space But then you'll start feeling really bad because he'll assume that you hate him or something Like, he'll start buying sandwiches to take to work cause he thinks you won't make lunch for him like normal or sleeps on the couch eats dinner and watches shows by himself so you cave first and the smile he gives you is so worth it
Sukuna:
Doesn't notice a thing at first He isn't the type to be clingy, he's not the affectionate one, he mostly returns it So there'll just be a period of silence Until he begins to feel your absence in which case he'll seek you out and then becomes the clingy one 'it is a pleasant day out, would you care to join me for a stroll? gets sooo offended if you don't say anything 'no? would you prefer to stroll with someone else? tell me who and they will be killed. in fact, continue to remain in silence and everyone will be killed.'
Yuji:
Confused :0 asks Nobara for advice 'you're a girl, she's a girl. so tell me what's going on' 'is it the time of the month?' uses loads of different tricks to make you break performs dances and skits gets Gojo involved tries to get Megumi involved (no chance) he's so stupid you just have to cave and explain he's an idiot and he'll nod happily
Megumi:
yeahhhhhh you'll be having a silent off for days and weeks you'll both continue to co-exist in silence it's just not smart
Inumaki:
annoying as hell texts you shit like: 'when she copies you' 'ho is u good?' 'can you be original at least?' when that doesn't work he'll break into your social media or gaming accounts right in front of you and threatens to release a post pretending to be you like 'you know, hitler wasn't that bad' or an ugly picture of you then you'll have to cave and he gets so caught up in the victory, he'll accidentally post it yep, he's a dead man walking
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