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ma1dita · 7 months

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trouble's coming for you

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 3.7k

summary: (established relationship) suggestive banter lol The one where Percy meets his two favorite counselors at Camp Half-Blood. Also known as the three times Percy is completely oblivious about you two, plus the time he learns what L-O-V-E looks like for two teen demigods. (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: PERCY POV!!! maybe the real enemy was the blue balls Luke got from a clueless 12-year-old. you’re gonna tell me you wouldn’t overthrow the gods too? scream at me in the comments and feel free to reblog :)

(posted 2/29/24, edited!!! i think!!! four hours of sleep later and a big kiss to @hotchfiles miss lari as always for inspo mwah)

—

What’s in a name?

One of the last defining memories Percy Jackson had with his mother before arriving at Camp Half-Blood was her reminder that names have power. He’s held fast to that belief, treading carefully with his words in this unfamiliar place that he’s supposed to call home so soon after losing his own.

Being the new kid for the hundredth time in his life means that he’s accustomed to change, much less introducing himself as Percy Jackson, whatever that means at this point—but then becoming known simply as the kid who causes trouble. What then, is he supposed to do, when his first friend at camp introduces him to a girl who embodies the name trouble?

To Luke, through Percy’s actions, it seems as if he’s trying to reclaim a crown that currently belongs to the beloved head counselor of Camp Half-Blood.

—

The dining pavilion is filled with mouth-watering scents and the sound of chattering campers to the point that it’s a bit overstimulating if he thinks too hard about it. Mr. Brunn—er, Chiron told him to take it easy after the events from yesterday, but he feels a bit tough on luck after making Luke run circles around camp trying to find what he’s good at.

“Is there a Greek god of disappointment? Maybe someone should ask if he’s missing a kid,” Percy says glumly, pushing the mac and cheese around on his plate. Luke sighs, letting the boy to his right speak.

“Oizys,” Chris mumbles through full cheeks before he cocks his head at the 12-year-old, “but she’s a goddess, and her whole thing isn’t really disappointment, it’s more like failure.”

Luke looks to Chris with a half smile before looking back at the kid and saying, “We’re gonna find the thing you’re good at. I know it.” He looks like he’s going to say something else before something, or someone catches his attention and it’s almost like the older boy is transfixed, eyes shining with mischief or something deeper that Percy’s young brain couldn’t comprehend just yet.

“And here comes trouble…” Luke says with a smirk, eyes following your figure until your feet take you to their table. The sandy-haired boy twists around, expecting to see a goddess of some sort until he sees you, violet eyes and a lilt of something sinister—giving off the energy of someone who holds power but also likes to fuck with it. You cross your arms over your chest, gaze floating over the three boys and at the tip of your chin, Luke takes his plate off the table, prompting you to hop up and slide onto the smooth surface in front of him.

“You look like someone kicked your puppy, so you must be the new kid. Peter, right?”

A snort of laughter comes from behind your slouched form, Luke partially concealed but body obviously shaking with amusement as he looks at you.

“He might just turn out to be a puppy kicker one day,” the son of Hermes jokes, “Meet Percy Jackson.”

“That’s not…”

You sigh at Luke’s idea of a joke, face incredulous as you lean over and conjure strawberries onto Percy’s plate. He’d never seen anything like that before, someone so casual about their abilities, but he didn’t have much of a reference past yesterday. This camp keeps surprising him in ways he’s never imagined possible.

“Heard D gave you a hard time earlier, sorry about him—I’d blame it on withdrawals but he’s just an asshole,” you offer with a smile and a handshake as you introduce yourself, watching the boy’s eyes widen with wonder.

“It’s not your fault…I’m used to being the new kid.”

Eyebrows furrowing at his tone, you lean in closer, voice turning serious. You’re a lot like Mr. D in the sense that it’s easy for you to poke at the kids who come through here for a reaction to make sure they’re okay mentally. When they don’t react is usually the call for help.

“Well, new kid, if anyone gives you a problem here at camp, you let me know. Even if it’s these two hooligans, or if it’s my dad.”

“You’re talking to our lovely head counselor, Percy. She calls the shots around here,” Chris chimes in jest. But only one part of your sentence sticks in his mind as he whips his head up from munching on a berry.

“He’s your dad?”

“Yeah, unfortunately,” you giggle, “and though you’re sweet and I would love to have you as a sibling, he kind of has a rule on having too many kids at once, unlike other gods.”

“A rule he’s already broken,” Luke drones, hand fidgeting with the black bandana tied around your thigh, “but who knows? If Percy ends up to be one of you, well…may the gods have mercy on us all.”

A deadpan stare is directed at the scarred boy, and you swipe at his curls like a feral cat, making him wince and laugh all the same as he bats you away.

“Tough shit, 11. Do you know how many hellions inhibit your cabin? Your dad inflicts agony on me personally every time another one of your siblings walks past the boundaries.”

The petty squabble is interrupted by the chime of the bell over your heads, but you two are still in a world of your own. It reminds Percy of the time he watched two subway rats fight over a pizza slice on the 6 train—he didn’t really know who to root for then either. Chris sighs and gets up, nudging Luke to follow, which he does begrudgingly as he claps his large hand on your leg. You hiss.

“Our turn!” Luke says with a hint of sarcasm.

“Our turn for what?”

“Burnt offerings,” you explain as you chomp on a strawberry, “the gods like the smell, so it gets their attention before you say a prayer.” You notice Percy stay in his seat, which makes a smile pull at your lips, “Think you’re off the hook for today though, bud. Or you can be just like me.”

“Don’t give him any ideas, Trouble. I’ll throw in a few for Hestia.” Luke chews at his lip as he leans over you to grab a few berries off of Percy’s plate to toss into the fire for you.

“You don’t pray?”

“I’m not really the religious type. I’ve got what I need,” you concede, leaning back on your palms as you watch the son of Hermes stand for a few extra seconds at the hearth. “Besides, my godrent is right over there, and Luke worries enough for me. It’s more his thing,” you say with a lazy smile. The campers filing out of the dining hall wave at you and you enthusiastically greet everyone with dancing fingers. He doesn’t think he’s ever met anyone that…happy to be on the job, but things work differently around here, so he doesn’t think much of your upbeat attitude.

“Eat up. Some of that strength has to go to you. Gonna need it.” You say ruffling Percy’s hair, and when Luke comes back, he tugs at the shoelaces of your boots until you kick his hands away. You both share a smile like people do a secret, even here in the open air.

“Do they like the smell of burnt mac and cheese?” Percy says curiously, eating another spoonful of the meal. His head hurts at another thing to consider in this brand-new world he’s walked into.

“They like the smell of begging,” Luke grins, and you laugh like a firework going off, making Percy’s lips pull up into a smile.

“I’m not much of a beggar though, if you ask me.”

The son of Hermes hums at you like he wants to say otherwise, and you slap his chest as you suck air through your teeth. Beneath the wood top of the table and with Percy being none the wiser, your fingers intertwine with Luke’s like it’s second nature.

“You burn what you’ll miss the most. Then they know you really mean what you’re about to say, so they listen.”

Luke takes a breath after explaining how things work for the nth time to the kid, knowing Percy’s quite persistent about making his dad notice him. He remembers being jaded too—striving to be the best for a lick of his dad’s attention and all of his efforts were done in vain. Even though the kid’s arrival at camp was a bit unexpected, Luke doesn’t mind showing him around.

Hopefully, less work on your end means that he can spend more time with you once this is over with— but by the looks of how the day is going so far, he’s not so sure. He hopes his offerings reach the gods and they grant him extra patience for his good deeds. Watching you laugh at something Percy says as you all walk out of the dining pavilion, Luke wonders if you know that every offering he burns for the goddess of the hearth and home is so that she’ll protect you.

—

“Lights out in 10 minutes, cabin 11! Everyone ready for bed?”

The sound of your voice jolts Percy awake from his post-dinner nap and he blinks slowly until he sees you walking towards him with extra blankets and pillows in your grasp. The other campers were kind of stand-offish, and after praying to his mom he was overwhelmed with the feeling of missing her, so much so that it drained the rest of his energy.

“Long day, huh bud?”

Drowsy with sleep, for a moment, Percy forgets where he is—the unfamiliar walls of the cabin making him shift with unease as he rubs at his eyes. The blurry version of you makes his chest go warm and for a second, it’s like—

“Mom?”

He blinks again, his pale face turning red when he realizes his slip-up. Percy’s shoulders drop when he hears giggles from somewhere in the big cabin and you reach out to smooth his hair away from his face with a gentle smile.

“Don’t worry about it. Everyone who first comes to 11 gets nightmares. For some of them, they don’t leave,” you mutter. Percy notices your eyes flicker over to Luke’s bed, where he’s zipping up his hoodie and chatting with one of his half-siblings. Cabin 11 is finally quieting down for the night—children scrambling into their bunks, doing nighttime routines, and having quiet conversations. It’s all so weird, this being everyone’s normal.

“You’re not alone though. Saw you earlier, outside. I still pray to my mom sometimes. She's quite the listener,” you say with a sad twinkle in your eye. The kid sniffs as you hand him the pillows and blankets, finally meeting your gaze.

“Did your mom…” Die too? The words feel like lead in his throat, feeling heavy as he swallows it down. He doesn’t want to cry in front of the pretty counselor, much less speak the truth, because if he says it out loud, it means his mom dying must have been real. Also, you’ve seen him sit in the dark of the forest burning blue jelly beans like a freak. What he didn’t know is that you pride yourself on being one. It takes one to know one, after all.

“Yeah. Makes for one hell of an origin story, but I found my place here, and people who care. I know you will too, when you’re rea—” Your words trail off when you see Luke walk past the both of you with a cool expression before he nods towards the door, and you squeeze Percy’s shoulder before getting up.

“Night guys! It’s getting late so we’ll have to do a story next time, okay?” You walk down the aisle patting heads and tucking in smaller campers, and he hears you whack the younger Stoll brother when he teasingly says, “It’s not fair that Luke gets a bedtime story and we don’t…”

“Connor, enough. I’ve lost count of how many times you’ve woken up and called me mom, so save it for tomorrow, chuckles.” He must have been the one laughing earlier.

“Everyone say goodnight Trouble!” Luke calls out with a coy expression, making you roll your eyes as you flick the light off to a symphony of jeers. It’s finally quiet as Percy is propped up against some pillows that smell like raspberries and soft cotton before he realizes he has to pee.

But Chris said harpies hunt kids after curfew… he thinks.

In a moment of sheer panic, Percy looks around in the darkness of the cabin before the sound of your cackling pierces through the dim light from the outside. He hops up from the makeshift cot and tugs his shoes back on, slowly creeping past the long row of bunks to not disturb other campers before he gets to the door. Your head turns quickly to the intrusion as you spring away from Luke, stubbing a cigarette underneath the wood panel out of sight when Percy steps through the doorway.

“Sorry, I need to use the bathroom,” he says sheepishly as Luke nods, scratching his neck and leaning a far distance away from you. Under the low burning lamps, Percy notices Luke’s cheeks redden and he wonders if he is interrupting something, but the urge to go increases as he steps between you two.

“Right. I’ll walk you to yours?” Luke blurts in one breath. With a wordless smile on your lips, you nod before Percy purposely interrupts this time.

“I can walk her, it’s on the way to the bathrooms, right?”

If only this poor kid knew he was being the cockblock of the century.

“Yeah, Percy’s got me. The harpies won’t like you missing curfew, Castellan,” you tease, stepping around him with a shit-eating grin. Your hair almost floats in the gentle breeze, and Luke rolls his eyes.

“Stay out of trouble. I mean it," he sighs, before shoving you off the porch, and you laugh at the irony of his words. Looking back at Luke, Percy noticed his eyes were on you like he wanted to live in your skin, which was equal parts disgusting and confusing to the 12-year-old. His steps double in pace as you both walk down the path and a brief side glance at your stifled smile quickly makes the kid wonder if you’d let him.

Pushing the sleeves of Luke’s hoodie past your elbows, you wave at Percy’s rushing figure as he almost bolts to the bathroom and you lean against the doorway of your empty cabin. You turn the light on and look across the way to see your boyfriend still leaning against his door, so you flip him off. Of course, he takes that as his cue to saunter over.

But then the loud clanging sound of pipes bursting reaches both of your ears and toilet water floods the dirt near the back end of your cabin.

So close.

“I’m gonna go check on Annie to see if she’s still on duty. Tough luck, babe,” you giggle, pressing a kiss to his cheek before walking in the direction that Percy went, sending the son of Hermes to drag his feet towards your cabin, alone (he didn’t expect to fall asleep propped over your covers waiting up for you, but a lot happened in that damn bathroom).

—

“Hey, today feel like a winning kind of day to you?” Annabeth smirks at the son of Hermes. Next to them, Percy feels a hand clap him on the shoulder and all three of them turn to see you donning red.

“Didn’t you three hear the conch? Wouldn’t want you to fall behind,” you say with a grin as Luke steps up to you and whistles lowly.

“Didn’t know you were playing today. It’s a shame you look that good in red.”

Annabeth fake gags as she crosses her arms to say, “You’re also currently on enemy territory if you haven’t noticed.”

“Oh, you wound me. I’m not a threat. Percy, I obviously don’t have the flag, right?”

He nods a bit dumbly, still worried about the mechanics of the game and the part he has to play for the blue team, but no one else seems to share his concerns.

“Anyways, sorry I’m not on your team, Perce. The Ares kids snatched me up as soon as my name was on the roster, so I came to wish you all luck.”

“This better not be a diversion tactic, Trouble,” Luke simpers, playfully tugging at your staff, which you use for leverage to step up onto a rock to meet him at eye level.

“Nah. You know I like the competition, angelface,” you whisper, almost daring him to do something.

“Bite me, Trouble.”

There’s a fire in his eyes you’d love to stoke, but now’s not the time or place. You can’t help but indulge though—the both of you enjoy the reactions you can pull from each other.

“You’d like it too much.”

“Alright now,” Annabeth groans, calling your name, rolling her eyes as she pulls at Luke’s arm, “Gotta remember he’s your enemy!”

“I’M TRYING!” You laugh, shaking your head and walking back towards your team as you shoot them a fake salute. It all happens too quickly as Percy’s unable to catch the spitfire words between the two of you, thinking further about how he might get maimed during this game (which in the grand scheme of things, he almost does. Thanks Clarisse).

“Those two are hopeless! Walk faster, sunshine—we lost too much time watching whatever that was.” Percy stumbles along the forest path as he follows Annabeth, the both of them leaving Luke smirking to himself as he follows the rest of their team.

Hours later, at Clarisse’s muddy feet and holding her broken spear, Percy hears cheering in the distance as he watches the blue team led by Luke waving the red flag in one hand and your legs supported by his other. You’re in a fireman’s hold across his shoulders and everyone watches as the son of Hermes spins you around like a Tilt-a-Whirl until the sound of your shrieks is audible from the shoreline.

He sets you down gently, dominant hand still around your waist as he snickers, “Got my win and my girl. Must be time to celebrate.” You laugh at his absurdity, pulling his helmet off and wiping the sweat off his forehead with your bandana.

“You’re always going to be a loser in my eyes.”

Slapping the plush of your hip, the sound echoes in the air—suddenly quiet as you gasp. But you’re not looking at Luke anymore, but rather the gleaming trident above Percy’s head as it’s revealed he’s a Forbidden Child. His jaw tightens at the sight, and there are a lot of emotions running through him, remembering Thalia and knowing that his plans will have to be altered once more because of Percy Jackson. You squeeze his hand before walking away from him to follow your dad and Chiron to the Big House, shooting him a nervous glance.

Damn.

—

The boys have been sparring for hours, and just as you think Percy’s getting the hang of it, Luke thrusts forward with an energy no one should have towards a 12-year-old. Although a bit concerning, he does have a lot to catch up on how to fight like a demigod before his quest in a few days.

“Take a break or else you’ll be crawling away from camp by the end of the week,” you joke, handing Percy and Luke bottles of cold water. Your boyfriend takes big gulps before pouring the rest over his head, leaving you gaping and a little hot under his stare as he nudges your chin and winks.

“You’re doing that on purpose!”

Luke shrugs slyly, and the both of you watch Percy catch his breath. He leans over your shoulder, the tone of his voice sultry as it tickles your ear, “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other word would smell as sweet.”

You bite your lip, before bursting with laughter—which isn’t exactly the reaction he thought you’d have. Maybe he should’ve finished reading the sonnet before falling asleep, but you always take too long with your nighttime skincare routine.

“That doesn’t mean what you think it means, but you’re cute for trying,” you coo, leaning closer so that your cheek touches his. Luke’s whole face is warm from exertion and now embarrassment, but he smiles nonetheless at the proximity. He can’t believe he still misses you, even when you’re skin-to-skin like this.

“That stanza…Isn’t it about names being meaningless?” Percy says between gasps of air before he pours the rest of the water bottle over his head like Luke did. He’s looking up at the both of you as he leans against a tree, instantly feeling more rejuvenated.

You jerk up from your seated position on the large rocks, excited to talk about Shakespeare, and Luke almost pouts at the loss of your attention.

“Yeah! Good job, bud. I forget you went to a hoity-toity charter school,” you say tongue-in-cheek, before turning back to your boy.

“So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, and, for thy name, which is no part of thee, take all myself. You’re gonna have to interpret that one yourself, angelface.”

“Trust I have no fucking clue but you sound really hot when you talk dirty to me,” Luke says with a shrug. Percy laughs at that, before finally bringing up the question that’s been on his mind since Luke introduced you to him.

“Why do you call her Trouble? She seems okay to me.”

“Thanks,” you say dryly, but the older boy leans on his arm with a lovestruck expression as he gazes at you. Oh…Percy thinks, brain feeling freshly washed. How did he miss that?

“She used to get in trouble a lot,” he says, before you elbow him hard, “I mean, we used to get in trouble, she’d always drag me into it.”

“You always offered! Don’t twist the fucking story,” you shriek, and the boys laugh at your exasperation.

“Yeah anyways, she’d always find me. Still does, my partner in crime. Trouble always comes for me,” Luke murmurs, waggling his eyebrows and intertwining your fingers together. Your jaw drops and cheeks flush and Percy thinks he understands better now, but gets confused again with what you do next.

You almost slap the goddamn scar off that boy’s face.

—

It is a terrible thing to be so open: it is as if my heart put on a face and walked into the world. -Sylvia Plath

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#luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #luke castellan fluff #trouble!verse #made by ma1dita ♥︎#luke castellan x dionysus!reader #percy series #thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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thebestofoneshots · 4 months

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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.6 K Warnings: ANGST w/ comfort (but also not?) Prompt: At the Potter's. This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 49: High Hopes

January, 3rd, 1977

“Kids, come eat something before you leave,” Hope called from the dining room. You were just finishing up packing, Remus had borrowed you his wand and you were putting everything in place (including a mild arrangement of his room that had been evidently changed since you got there) and he had also allowed you to gemino some of the pictures he had in his wall.

You had picked one with the four Marauders, one of 11 year old Remus and Sirius smiling at the camera, one of James and Sirius when they got on the quidditch team, one of Peter working on the map, the one of Sirius you thought was adorable the first time you saw it, one with Lily and Remus doing a presentation and a few others with Sirius and Remus in which you thought they looked adorable or that you could use to tease them later (Hope had given you a few of Rem that were basically gold).

“Coming,” you said as you grabbed the pictures and started arranging them back onto his wall with a flick of his wand. Thankfully Remus’ wand seemed to like you since every time you used it she would respond and do exactly what you’d intended. “Rem, I’m leaving your wand on the desk,” you said after closing the suitcase and taking it in your hands as you stepped out.

“Sweetheart, let me help you with that,” Hope said as she saw you walk with your suitcase in hand and was surprised when she pulled on it and it shot upwards pretty fast. You managed to catch it and her before she tripped backwards. “Levitation spell,” you said with an apologetic smile.

“Sometimes I forget how many useful spells you wizards have for things like this,” she said with a smile and carefully took the suitcase from your hands and sat it in a corner of the room. “Could you add a spell like that to my suitcases, honey?” she asked as she turned to Lyall who nodded in return. “I don’t get why he didn’t tell me about those earlier,” she added as she shook her head. “I’ve got some fruit in the fridge, could you help me get it?” she asked you.

You nodded and followed, this time the fae had sent her an assortment of tropical fruits, everything from bananas to watermelons and dragonfruit. You weren’t sure how they managed to get such a harvest in the middle of winter, but it probably had to do a lot with fae magic that you didn’t yet understand.

Remus was out of his room with a band shirt and a pair of light-wash jeans. He had one of his jumpers in his hands, but his house was warm enough for him to only wear his shirt and clearly he was confident enough to not wear thousands of layers at home. He didn’t mind if you or his parents saw the scars on his arms, you all knew he was a werewolf, and while he was sometimes self-conscious about you seeing them, you had made it clear –on countless occasions– that you would never be repulsed by them.

So when you saw him, with his sweater casually crumpled up in his hand, you couldn’t help but smile. Hope was looking at you attentively, and she was even more confident about her initial thoughts now than she had been by everything she’d gotten from the letters, she just hoped Remus would understand the reference she had given him so she wouldn’t have to be blunt about it.

“What are Sex Pistols?” Lyall asked in a judgeful manner as he stared at Remus’ shirt with a frown.

You laughed because that was the exact reaction you expected a wizard to have after seeing the shirt and Hope was the one to answer, “A muggle band, you’ve heard them!” She said and then she started singing “Now I’ve got a reason, now I’ve got a reason…” Lyall seemed as puzzled as before and Hope just sighed in defeat, “He’s truly hopeless.”

You refrained from making the “Well he has a Hope” pun since it didn’t seem proper to make puns with the names of your friend’s parents. Although, a big part of you thought Hope wouldn’t really mind.

“I thought you said she was a drummer when she was in a band,” you said, turning to Remus with a gasp.

“I was,” she said with a shrug.

“But your singing is fantastic!”

She smiled. “Someone appreciates it,” she added in an exaggerated tone and walked your way, placed her hands on your back and motioned for you to sit on the table. “Come, darling, you can have all the strawberries left.”

“Mum!” Remus complained.

“You’ve never told me I sing nice, Beag Gille. Suck it up, as you kids would say.”

You had to hold back the giggle that threatened to escape your mouth as you sat down next to Hope. She had prepared some toast for jam. Of course, it wouldn’t be just any bread –this was Hope Lupin we were talking about– it was sourdough with dried cranberries and spices. You were going to eat it with butter and jam (that she had made with fae fruit, obviously) and even cream cheese (that one she bought on the muggle market a few miles from the cliffs, she was extra, but she wasn’t that extra).

Hope really had served all the leftover berries on your plate, and she wouldn’t let you offer them to the boys. “They can eat them whenever they’re here, who knows when you’ll come back,” she explained and told you to ignore their pretty puppy eyes.

At least you weren’t the only one who thought Remus had pretty puppy eyes.

You nodded and continued eating, although you slipped two of them under the table in a very muggle magician kind of way, and nudged Remus’ leg with your own. He looked at you confused and you merely nodded downwards as you brought a piece of bread to your mouth. He looked down and instantly noticed your closed fist.

You nodded again and he pulled his hand down in a casual sort of way, brushing his fingers over your hand to let you know he was there since you were telling Hope something about the floating spell. Eventually, he pulled his palm down underneath your fist and you turned your wrist over to let the berries fall on his hand. He allowed his hand to linger just a little bit more, enjoying the fact that he could touch you, and pulled away eventually. Grinning as he brought a piece of bread with peanut butter to his mouth.

After breakfast, you waved your goodbyes to Remus’ parents. Lyall gave you a quick friendly hug and told you to take care and stay out of trouble while Hope embraced you for at least a minute, pulling you close to her as she did and squeezing you tightly.

“Take care, all right? Cailín álainn?”

You recognised one of those words, It’s what Remus had called you and Sirius once. But why would his mother call you “shit”?

“Álainn?” you asked.

“My beautiful girl, of course,” she added and pressed a kiss to your hair.

What did she say? Beautiful girl?!? But wasn’t that–

“Off you go,” she added after finally separating from the embrace. “To have fun and all of that.”

“But not too much fun,” Lyall added with an accusing finger directed towards Remus, but Hope was quick enough to push that finger out of the way and sigh at her husband.

“All the fun you want,” she said and took a small box from the mantel and opened it, revealing the very classic green of the floo powder.

Remus took a handful and you did the same afterwards. “I’ll go first,” he said and threw the powder on the chimney as he said, “Potter’s Manor,” in a very clear voice.

You were about to do the same when Hope pressed a hand on your shoulder. “You are a very strong woman,” she said as she stared at you directly. “A true hero.” You frowned, ready to refute her when she shook her head. “Take care of my Remus, will you? I know he’ll be taking care of you. You’re very dear to him.”

“Always,” you replied, without family left, your friends had become their equal and you would defend them with all your might if the situation needed it. Something like Christmas could not happen again. You refused to lose any more of your people.

Hope smiled and pulled you into a quick hug, before turning you around with her hands and pushing you towards the chimney, “All right, Cailín álainn, no stalling, there are handsome men waiting for you on the other side.” You threw the powder into the fire. “Oh, and write me, darling. I want to hear all of your misadventures!” she said as you murmured the words and disappeared into the fireplace.

Remus was on the other side, dusting off some remnant ashes from his pants as he looked around the living room, it seemed empty, he had already put on his sweater since the living room was chillier than his house, he was probably also being careful, in case there was anyone other than the Potters in the house.

“Did we arrive at the right time?” you asked with a frown as you too dusted off your shoulder.

“Yeah, they said about 10,” Remus replied as he checked his watch. It was 10:15, not English punctuality but that had been on his mum stalling the two of you.

Then you felt a hand gripping you from behind and pulling you upwards from the waist, you would have panicked, if you hadn’t instantly known it was Sirius. The invisibility cloak he had been wearing slipped from him as he buried his head on your neck. You had talked to Sirius and James every day, but that didn’t stop him from clinging to you the minute he spotted you.

“How are you?” He whispered into your neck.

“Kinda constrained,” you replied as you nodded towards his caging hands.

“You know what I meant.”

You swallowed, not quite sure if you were ready to talk about it all again. Thankfully, Prongs was there to save you. He took off the cloak with a rather exasperated sigh. “Pads! We were supposed to get them at the same time!”

“Sorry,” Sirius mumbled in the least apologetic tone you’d heard.

James shook his head and then pulled Moony into a short hug, “Merry Christmas, mate,” he said and then quite literally ripped you from Sirius’ grasp to give you a bear hug.

“James, James, James,” you said as he overdid it with the squeezing.

“Sorry,” he said as he pulled apart and you just shook your head with a smile in return. Sirius had pulled Remus into a similar hug, and he was still hugging the taller boy when James let go of you. You smiled when you saw how cosy they looked against each other and James placed his arm around your shoulder.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” James said with a smile. “We need to discuss Marauder’s business.”

“But Peter’s not here,” you said. Sirius pulled apart from Remus who looked a little phased, took your suitcase and placed it on the table before plopping down on the sofa.

“He’s on a family trip in Italy, he won’t be back ‘til after vacation, but we’ll write him the details,” Sirius said and then opened his arms and looked at you. “Come?”

You rolled your eyes but did as told, secretly enjoying how clingy Sirius was, and sat on his lap like you often did. James sat on the table in front of you and pulled Moony by the arm so he would sit on the right in front of him, next to you and Sirius.

“We were thinking about a small little prank,” he said, “to mark our coming back to school and all that.”

“Yeah?” You asked, reclining onto Sirius and getting a little more comfortable. Remus, who had had you all to himself for more than a week, was having a rather hard time coping with the sudden space between the two of you. He was tempted to place his hand around Sirius’s shoulders and bring both of you closer to him, but he knew it wasn’t possible.

“So Sirius and I were talking about the time you used the swamp bomb and how we had accidentally trapped a creature inside of it.”

“And,” Sirius started from behind you. “We thought it was really interesting how the creature quite literally busted out the minute you exploded the bomb.”

“It was not interesting,” Remus said almost bitterly. They hadn’t seen you fall, they hadn’t seen you in the water and they hadn’t smelled your fear as you stepped away from the murky water and frosted the lake.

“From an impartial point of view,” you added with a shrug, clearly trying to excuse the boys’ words, you wouldn’t have used interesting to describe it either, but you kind of got what they meant by it. Remus had to hold back a scoff. He was having a hard time tolerating the bursting of the comfortable bubble you had both been immersed in.

“Sorry Vix,” Sirius said with an apologetic look. “But hear us out. What if we put not one, but several creatures inside of a swamp bomb.”

“Define creatures…”

“Tadpoles,” Sirius said from behind, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“You want them to turn into toads,” Remus said as he looked at the two boys, now a bit more invested in the prank. “Why?”

“Because we want to infest Hogwarts with Toads,” James said with a satisfied smile. Sirius pulled a small crystal ball from his pocket and handed it over to you. Very condensed inside it, there was thick murky water.

You took a look, “How many of them did you put in here?” you asked as you handed the ball to Remus, he pulled his hand faster than he normally would from yours, which made you frown. What’s with him?

“About 17 dozen, Peter found a spawning bed filled with hundreds of them and the idea just came to us in an instant.”

“We’ve been flying through the grounds to find some more, but most of them are frozen due to the snow.”

“How many have you made?” You asked.

James smiled, pulled a handful from his pocket, and placed it between your hands. Then he pulled another one and left it in Remus' hands. “Peter will be getting more in Italy, he promised.”

“So we’ll have at least a hundred of these?” Remus asked. Sirius nodded. “How are you planning to explode them all at the same time?”

“That’s why you two are here. You’re good with this kind of thing.”

You scoffed with a smile, “You left us the hardest part!”

“Try finding spawning beds and catching them in spheres, Vix,” Prongs retorted with a daring kind of face and stuck out your tongue to him. He gasped as he pulled back and played offended.

“We could time-set them?” Remus offered.

“Yeah, but what kind of charm would do that?” You asked. “A freezing charm, hiding them in the corner of classrooms and having them fall during first period?”

“Told you they would figure it out,” Sirius said as he looked at the two of you with a proud smile and side eyes James who had a small frown and pursed lips.

“Oh, that could actually work, but we’d have to perfect the charm so they all fall at the same time, if not they could figure it out and stop them from exploding,” Remus responded to you.

“Does that mean one person would have to charm all of them? There’s no way in hell we’d have enough time.”

“Not if we make the spell and teach the others how to do it,” he retorted. “Maybe we can run some tests… with toadless swamp bombs.”

“Got some of those?” you asked James.

“We can make them,” he responded with a shrug.

And that’s how you set yourself up for the task, while Remus and you figured out how to deal with the spell, James and Sirius went out to make some toadless swamp bombs for you to test them. You didn’t see the Potters until it was dinner time.

Effie was more than thrilled over the fact that you were staying at her house and she asked Mellie and Picksie to prepare some treats for you and Remus while Monty cooked dinner. “Boys, we’re talking girls stuff,” she announced after setting the table and pulled you to the side. You looked at them with a worried expression and Sirius shrugged, while James gave you a teasing thumbs up.

Effie took you to a room filled with books and looked at you with a small frown. “You’ve already talked to Dumbledore?”

It might have been toned like a question, but it sounded a lot more like a statement. “Yes.”

She nodded and placed her hand on your shoulder, she had a sad sort of look on her face that made you feel like you were being pitied, which had you shift uncomfortably. It was completely different to the way she had looked at you back at the train station when you first met her, and you felt like the memories were flooding back.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked simply. “Have you talked about it to someone?”

You hesitated to answer. “I don’t,” you said honestly. “I’d rather not think about it altogether.”

She sighed and then nodded, as if she both knew it was a bad idea to suck it all up, and understood exactly where you were coming from. “You should process it, not now–” she added when she saw the deepening of your frown. “But you should eventually talk about it, even if it’s just to yourself.”

You nodded to her words, “Now… since you’ll be staying with the boys and I know you’re dating Sirius, I’ve brought you this,” she said, handing you a crystal bottle with greenish liquid inside.

You knew well what it was since McGonagall had shown you an identical potion back in her special class.

“Monty has already talked to the boys, but I wanted to make sure you were also taking care of yourself. Especially now that–” She didn’t finish, but you knew exactly what she meant.

Especially now that you don’t have a mum.

“Thank you, Effie,” you said honestly, and she instantly pulled you into a hug.

“I’m really sorry for everything you’ve gone through. I’ll work even harder so these kinds of things don’t happen again.” You didn’t say anything, and she continued. “You were incredibly brave,” she added, “defending a friend against them, it must have been a tough call to make.”

That had been the easiest part. You had never hesitated on whether to try to save Nina and your mother. The hard part was failing and having to live with it.

“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for showing them that we aren’t all on their side and that we won’t stand down to their bigotry.”

You didn’t speak much, but Effie continued to give you praises for a couple of minutes, and then she told you a bit about the order and gave you a small keychain with a protean charm that would allow you to call her in case you ever needed her help. After that, she gave you a small pat on the back and told you dinner was ready.

You were still a little shaken by the time you stepped out of the room and Remus was struggling not to wrap you in his arms and pull you into a tight hug. But it was Sirius the one who did it, he pressed a bunch of kisses to your face and then one on your lips. It was quick, and it had been a second, but it was enough to have James grumble something about being forgotten because you were around, and complaining to Moony when Sirius had you sit next to him, on his usual spot.

Even though the talk with Effie had shaken you again, you were quick to let yourself be drowned by the merry atmosphere, James and Sirius complaining and somehow managed to flip the switch, leaving the problems at the back of your mind and actually enjoying the dinner and conversation even if the words wouldn’t quite reach your mind.

Anything to avoid, anything to forget, even if only for a minute.

Remus had been looking at you attentively throughout the dinner, the way Sirius was being extra touchy with you, he had probably noticed how upset you were too. Sirius wasn’t stupid. But he was waiting for the right time to talk to you. He was giving you space, but holding you close while at it. It was sweet, the two of you were a really sweet match, one made in heaven. And he was nothing more than a serpent, a tempting –or perhaps tempted– serpent that had fallen in love.

He would have to put up some space, he would have to step away, because if any of you had a taste of his apple then that beautiful relationship, that made him feel so many things at once, would crumble, and he would be to blame.

But how could he step away? You had been through hell and back and you needed your friends, even if you didn’t want to admit it to yourself, you needed them. And he was your best friend, for fucks sake. How could he prioritise his feelings over yours? Remus started to feel like a monster again, and it was not because he was a werewolf. But rather because he had allowed himself to bask on the idea of being with you and seeing you with Sirius, how close you were to each other, it just reminded him that it wasn’t possible. It wasn’t possible to have either of you.

You might have allowed the conversation to swallow you, but you weren’t blind, you could tell there was something going on with Rem, he was different, he had been different the instant you appeared in Potter’s manor. And while at first, you thought it might have been because he was in a different house, it was like you could almost see the inner conflict inside his eyes. It was something similar to what you saw when you looked in the mirror, but at the same time, it was vastly different.

Whatever it was that was troubling Remus, wasn’t related to what had happened that night, even if he had cried for Nina when you told him the story, even if he had been sad about your mother and had hugged you until you stopped crying, Remus’ mind was plagued with a different feeling, you weren’t sure why, but you knew.

“That was delicious,” you said with a polite smile. “Thank you, Monty.”

Monty beamed at your praise and sent you a very James Potter-like wink, “You’re welcome darling, you may dine here whenever you want. And I mean it, I don’t care if James and Sirius are busy, you’re family now.”

It had been a short, almost throw-away comment, but you felt your heart swell with warmth when he said it. You had lost your parents, but you had gained Hope and you had gained Effie and Monty. You might have felt lonely, but you wouldn’t be alone.

“That’s right,” James said as he placed his hands around your shoulder. “She’s like the sister I never got, isn’t she boys?”

“Well she’s not like a sister to me,” Sirius said and sent you a wink that pulled a small chuckle from you.

Remus didn’t respond.

And again, you noticed. It was like you were noticing many things and a lot of them had to do with Remus. Like that one thing that you had seen hints of in the past was finally revealing itself and you weren’t sure exactly what it was, but you had the feeling that you’d be able to tell soon enough.

“Gross,” James said and pulled you closer to him.

“You’ll take her to her room?” Effie asked.

“Indeed,” he responded as he dragged you up their stairwell, “I’ll even give her a short tour.”

“Aha?” you asked.

He nodded in return and stepped right in front of you when you reached the end of the stairwell. “So, that way we have the office, the library and my parent’s room,” he said and moved to the other side of the hallway and pointed at a door. “This is mine and Sirius’ room, Mum and Dad used an extending charm to make you a room and Rem will stay with us.”

“You shouldn’t have gone through the trouble…”

“Because you always end up sleeping all together?” James teased. “Mum is open-minded but not that open-minded.”

You gasped and punched James on the shoulder, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He replied. “I believe Mellie and Picksie have already taken your stuff there, so you should be set to sleep if that’s what you want. You have your own bathroom, although there is also one at the end of the hall, you already know the one that’s downstairs, yeah?”

You nodded in response.

“Good, any questions?”

“Nope.”

“Excellent. Now, it’s not that late, and we’re planning to play a muggle board game Sirius got sent by Andromeda. It’s called Monopoly.”

“Oh, I know how to play,” Remus said casually.

“Meet you in our room?” James asked.

“Yeah,” you said with a nod and walked inside yours.

You took a quick shower and changed into a pair of comfortable pyjamas. With a towel still around your shoulders to catch the wetness of your hair, you knocked on their door. James was setting up the game and Sirius looked confused as Remus tried to explain the instructions to him, the three were sitting on the floor. You approached them and after sitting down, you carefully took the instructions from Remus’ hand. Again, he was quick to pull away from you and you tried to ignore the feeling as you sank into your seat and started to read through them. You were also slightly confused. The whole “put houses and hotels” was a concept you weren’t really familiar with, it was nothing like Wizard’s Chess!

“So, you got it?” Remus asked.

“I have to pay if I fall on your property? But why? You would never charge me, we’re friends,” Sirius said.

“Yes, but it’s the game’s rule. If he doesn’t charge you because you’re friends then he wouldn’t charge any of us and he would lose the game,” you explained.

“And what’s with this money?” he added as he took one of the bills from the game. “It looks so weird. But muggles also use paper, I remember that. How do they protect against falsification, like gemino and muggle forgers?”

“Sirius! You’re not thinking of using magic while playing, are you?” You said as you threw him a look.

“Is it against the rules? It’s not in here,” he added as he took the paper from your hands and showed it.

“Of course, it isn’t,” you said as you took it from his hands. “It’s a muggle game Sirius, they don’t add ‘Spells are forbidden’ in the rules like we do.”

“So that means no magic?” he asked.

“No,” Remus and you said at the same time.

“And no duplicating the money if you ran out either,” James warned.

“I’m just saying, it wouldn’t be against the rules.”

You gave Sirius a stern look and turned to Remus, it was as if he instantly knew what you wanted since he handed over his wand. “Accio pencil.”

A pencil flew from James’ desk and towards your hand. You caught it with ease and wrote down two new rules on the paper.

THE USE OF ANY KIND OF MAGIC IS FORBIDDEN

FORGING THE MONEY (BE IT BY MUGGLE MEANS OR WIZARDING ONES) IS ALSO FORBIDDEN.

“Now it’s against the rules.”

“I’ve always found it fascinating how Moony’s wand just works when you use it,” James said as he looked at the item in question in disbelief.

“You’re just jealous you can’t use it,” Sirius said as he took Remus’ wand and effortlessly levitated the pencil back to the desk.

“I’m sure I can if I try hard enough,” James said, taking the wand in his hands and flicking it about. Nothing happened. He flicked it again and still nothing. He did again, with more force, and the pencil flicked from the spot and launched towards him. You were quick enough to move the game board over his face and the pencil’s tip crashed against it.

“Shit, it made a dent,” you said as you pulled the board down and looked at the place that the pencil had, pretty much stabbed into. Right above the Angel of Islington, there was a dent in the shape of the pencil, the graphite tip had broken and was now stuck in the cardboard.

“That would have been your face, mate,” Sirius said while James took Moony’s wand between his thumb and index fingers –as if it had been a bomb– and placed it in front of Remus’ crossed feet.

Remus rolled his eyes and took his wand, he flicked in the air and both the chipped pencil and the gameboard were repaired, he didn’t even have to say a word.

“Yeah, thanks Vix,” He said as he turned to you. You just shrugged in response. It had been almost instinctive, you didn’t even think before acting, you saw the pencil shake and you knew something bad might have happened. “Be my team.”

“There are no teams in Monopoly,” Remus said with a sigh.

“Well we could change that,” James said with a shrug.

“If they didn’t change the rules for me to forge money, then they’re not gonna change them for you to steal my girlfriend.”

“How about we just start playing instead?” you offered, and in between you and Remus started distributing the money and placing things on the board.

“I’ll be the dog,” Sirius said, instantly taking the small metal dog from Remus’ hands.

“I’ll take the car,” James said.

“And you, Little Witch?”

“You pick first,” you said simply, and Remus stared at the pieces left in his hand like he wasn’t sure which one to take, and eventually he took the thimble. Pushing the rest of the pieces your way.

You took the small battleship and placed it on “Go”. The rest of the boys did the same.

“Hey Moons, can I have my £200?” James said.

“It’s only after the first round,” he explained.

“It’s on the rules Prongs, didn’t you read them?” Sirius added as he handed him the paper and James scoffed at his hypocrisy.

You laughed at their interaction and took the dice in your hands before shaking them and throwing them on the board, “Seven? Alright you go,” you said as you handed them to Remus who got a 10. James got an eight and Sirius got a 3.

“Good, so I start,” Remus said and threw the dice again, moving towards the spot marked on the board.

The first couple of rounds were uneventful. You were all just playing around, and it wasn’t until at least 40 minutes later that things started to get a little more complicated.

James had gotten possession of all the orange properties after making a deal with Sirius to exchange an orange for the last railroad that he needed to complete the set. Remus had somehow managed to get the entirety of the 3rd line and while you had 3 houses on Park Lane, no one had fallen even close to either of them in the last two rounds.

“Remus please,” Sirius pleaded. “Please, please, let me go, just this once, I’ll pay you as soon as someone falls on Kings Cross. James is super close, look.”

Remus shook his head. “I’m sorry Pads, rules are rules.”

“But you let Vix go a couple of rounds ago.”

“She gave me her get-out-of-jail card in exchange, and I’ve fallen there twice already. What would you give me in exchange?”

“Moony!” Sirius whined. James had already taken his pink cards a round earlier when he fell and also had no money to pay for it. He would have to mortgage his properties to pay off, and James had already done it once and he had been terribly upset over just getting half of the money he paid for it.

You sighed, you didn’t want Sirius to lose, but you didn’t want him to be kicked out of the game so suddenly either. “How much do you have?”

“£100.”

You nodded and checked your money. You weren’t much better either but you had a bit of a cushion so you pulled the £150 he needed from your bill stack and handed it over.

James gasped, “That’s so not fair! You made me mortgage White Chapel Rode to pay off my debt!”

“I want it back with a 20% over the total when you have capital. And I will not be charged if I fall on your properties until you’ve paid up the debt.”

“Never mind,” James said, swallowing his own words. “Not even because he’s your boyfriend. I mean he would have been better off getting a mortgage.”

“No,” Remus said, charging the money Sirius owed and placing it on his own stack of bills. He currently had the thickest stack and the most properties. Unless there was a massive turn of events, he would win, and you definitely did not need him keeping Sirius’ properties. “Sirius would have had to mortgage at least four properties to get enough money to pay, that would mean he’d have to sell one of his railroads and therefore he would have lost his set, decreasing the total amount of profit he’d get if one of us fell on it. He would have also had to sell the houses in Islington and sell one of his blue afterwards. And only for half the money he spent on them initially. Besides, even if she won’t get charged, we will, so he has a 2/3 chance of getting the money to pay her back. If any of us fall on Kings Cross –and we’re both close– he’ll have enough to pay Vix back and he wouldn’t have sold off any of his properties.

“But only to pay back, and then he’ll be broke again.”

“He’s close to ‘Go’, he’ll capitalise then, and he’ll manage to survive for at least a few more turns. She’s actually saving his ass.”

“That’s because she’s the best,” Sirius said and placed a kiss on your cheek before handing the dice to Remus and he threw them, falling on Park Lane and finally giving you enough money to continue with the next round without major issues.

Sirius and James survived for a couple more rounds, but eventually, they both went bankrupt, James couldn’t pay a debt to the bank and he had to give all his properties back, and since you and Remus had enough money, you had to fight it out to get them on an auction. Sirius lost to Remus later, but this time around he didn’t even ask for a waiver.

“Here, take it all Moony, I cannot fight against your economic skills,” he said dramatically and handed his leftover money and properties to Remus.

James had pulled a pillow from the bed and was soundly sleeping beside you and Sirius, who had pulled you onto his lap shortly after he lost the game and was paying close attention to everything you did within the game. Then you fell into the dеathtrap that Remus had designed on Fleet Street and Picadilly. Losing most of your money after two rolls of the dice. Luckily he fell on Mayfair and Parklane afterwards and you managed to get back most of what you’d lost.

A few more rounds went on and Sirius yawned. Pulling you closer to him. “Just give up, neither of you it’s going to win this one. Moony allowed you to pay half the debt last time you fell on Coventry and you let it slip when he fell on Kings Cross because he promised to do your Herbology homework. At this point, you owe more favours to each other than money.”

“But you can’t give up on this game.”

“Then be ruthless to each other and have one of the two go bankrupt.”

You pouted, and James mumbled something in his sleep, “Moony, no. Let me keep my deed card, please…” The three of you laughed and you leaned down to place a deed card on his hand. He was quick to grip it and smiled.

“How about a truce?” Sirius offered. “I really want to go to bed.”

“Well then go,” Remus said with a shrug.

“I meant all of us to go to bed,” he said nonchalantly. “We haven’t cuddled in a while.”

Remus swallowed, so much for space. “You mean– we’re still doing the cuddle thing?”

“Just in case,” you said, “Moony took Vixen in, but we don’t know if it was just a one-time thing or not.”

Remus knew. Moony had accepted Vixen already, he wasn’t gonna try and eat or chase her unless it was a game. He could just tell you and be done with it. No more Sirius on top of him in the mornings, no more you laying your head on his shoulder before you turned into Vixen. Just him and his own bed. The idea sounded like a nightmare.

“Yeah, of course,” he said, agreeing. “We shouldn’t let our guard down. Just in case.”

“So, shake hands, kiss kiss, and you both win,” Sirius said as he placed his hands on your shoulder and shook them a little.

You laughed and extended your hand for Remus to shake, “Truce?”

“Truce,” he replied with a nod.

“Let’s go then,” Sirius said as he patted your leg and pushed you to stand.

“I’ll go wash my teeth,” you said as you waved at the boys and exited their room.

“How is she?” Sirius asked the instant he was alone with Moony. Well, technically Prongs was there too but he slept like a log, so he might as well be in Narnia altogether.

“You’ve seen her.”

“Yeah, I can tell she’s shaken. Heck, I am shaken and I barely knew the girl. You knew Nina better, didn’t you?”

“Vixen said she was crushing on me after the first study club, remember?”

“That was Nina?” Sirius asked, shocked as he took a deep breath. “Anyway, how is she?”

“Quiet,” Remus admitted. “She prefers avoiding the subject entirely. She only told me what happened the day after it happened and then one time when I found her crying outside, she mentioned how she felt. I think it’s much better not to pressure her to talk about it.”

“I assumed as much,” Sirius said with a sigh. “But I’m worried, her smile it… it barely reaches her eyes now.”

Remus had noticed that too. The façade you had created was not enough to hide how you truly felt from either of the two, “I know.”

“How can we change that?”

“We can’t. We can only support her until she feels better.”

“It’s agonising,” Sirius breathed and hid his face in between his hands. And he hasn’t even seen her cry, Remus thought. “You know the way Nina diеd–” Sirius started and looked up, his eyes were glassy with tears. “Vix was trying so hard to defend her, so hard to escape and then she– it was a split second Moony, barely a minute, she was trying to repair the path to continue and they sent a course her way, Nina stepped in, she took the blow instead because she new Vix was already rather weak…. Nina saved her.”

“I know,” Remus said.

“You know what’s the last thing Nina told her?” Remus shook his head. “That she was pleased Vix was the last thing she got to see. She thanked her for saving her, even if she didn’t…” Sirius stopped and wiped his eyes. Witnessing the entire thing in first person had taken a toll on him too, Remus could tell. Sirius wasn’t only suffering for you, but with you as well. He felt tempted to bring Sirius into a hug, even more when he wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

Sirius didn’t feel worthy of crying, albeit he had done it more than once when he was alone, he thought that he didn’t have the right. It had been your mother and your close friend, he had been merely a spectator. What Sirius didn’t understand was that pain wasn’t something to be measured and weighed, it was not something to compare and pin against each other, you can’t say “I don’t deserve to cry” just because someone else has it a lot worse. Your feelings, no matter where they stem from, are valid since they are true for you.

“She stayed there, she was crying on top of Nina, that was the last thing I saw. I– I didn’t think she would move.”

“She wasn’t going to,” Remus said. You had never said that explicitly, but it had been obvious from the way things happened. “She would have kept trying if it hadn’t been for Barty.”

“Barty, of all people,” Sirius said in disbelief. There was a second of quiet and then Sirius turned to look at Remus. He was as beautiful as he remembered, he hadn’t quite realised how much closer he’d veered to him while they talked but they were now much closer, his knees brushing against each other and he was close enough to get a whiff off Remus’ chocolaty scent, he smelled of you too.

Then the knob twisted and the door opened, Remus pulled back hastily and Sirius turned into Padfoot before you noticed he’d been crying. “Everything all right?” you asked with a frown when you felt the tense atmosphere.

You looked at Remus but Padfoot was quicker and ran your way, jumping and placing his paws on your shoulders, his size made you stagger back a little and you laughed when he started to lick your face. Remus stared for a second and then flicked his wand so the game would go back to the box and then took it in his hand to place it on the table, avoiding the sight of the two of you almost entirely.

“I missed you too, big boy,” you said as you brushed your hand over the back of Padfoot’s head, he barked softly in return and then dug his snout into your neck in the same way he did to Remus when you cuddled. You were petting him as Remus finished setting the bed.

The second Remus sat on the bed, Padfoot barked again, softer than he had earlier.

“Go ahead,” you said. “He’s better at petting you than I am anyway.”

Padfoot gave you another short lick and jumped from you and towards Remus, throwing himself over in the same way he had with you, although Remus hadn’t even staggered. You smiled when you saw them.

Sirius was just happy he could hug Rem more now that he was Padfoot and was bossing him around so he would lay on the bed properly by biting his shirt and trying to pull him back. “Oi, Pads, I’m coming,” he said as he carefully unclasped his watch to set it on the night table. Padfoot barked again to hurry him.

“You know Rem,” you said with a sneaky little smile. He hummed in return. “I think Sirius missed us more.” Padfoot’s face changed and he turned to you instantly, barking in retort. “I mean he was calling us often, he had me on his lap whenever he could, and I’m sure he would have asked me to play with his hair if it hadn’t been that we were so busy with the prank.”

Remus smirked. “Oh, he definitely missed you more.” Padfoot now turned his head to him and barked.

“I suppose I win the bet then,” you said with a smile and Padfoot barked one more time before running your way, but you were quicker and turned into Vixen before he placed his paws on your shoulders, sneaking in between his legs as he fell again, slightly startled.

You ran under the bed and crossed the entire thing before jumping over and climbing onto Remus’ lap who was still sitting. He laughed as you brushed your head to his stomach and Padfoot barked at you for being so sneaky. You must have been saying something to each other –since you kept barking– but Remus was clueless as to what that might have been, so he just carefully raised you up and accommodated, allowing enough space for Padfoot to climb into and get comfortable himself.

“Didn’t you say you were tired?” he said with eyebrows raised at Padfoot who had now rested his snout on Remus’ shoulder. “Stop arguing with Vixen and sleep then.” Padfoot lifted his head and barked in return. “If not, we might as well finish the game.”

The dog whined and sank back into Remus’ shoulder. After that, it didn’t take much for Remus soft and purposeful petting, for both you and Pads to fall asleep. Sirius now much calmer, he had both you and Remus around.

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 3 months

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ROLES REVERSED.

tangerine x fem!reader — fluff/ comfort

summary. as the eldest daughter, you’re used to taking care of others. tangerine notices, and wants to be the one to care of you.

requested by @sdddoobydoobydoo here <3

word count. 1186

warnings. couple blood mentions. no established relationship

As the eldest daughter, you're naturally gifted with traits that stem from your role as the second parent: the ability to help and care and nurture and understand and peacekeep in ways most will never.

You appreciated your broad span of empathy, loving how easily and seamlessly you could help others. But it was tiring, and yet, it all you've ever known.

It was normal for you to sit on the back burner when it came to getting care, always being the one to give and never receive. It was why Tangerine took your interest more than any other guy before.

It was like all he wanted was to tend to you, love and care for you - do things for you. Something about him was so unlike the other men in your life; they'd let you exhaust yourself for them, let you work yourself silly, but that was not Tangerine. That's not the man he is.

He noticed how you seemingly always knew what to do, all this infinite wisdom and knowledge swirling inside your poor, tired mind. Anytime he was snappy, you'd assume he was hungry - heading into the kitchen to whip something up for him, or if you were public, always offering to buy him lunch. Anytime he stopped past yours, all battered and bruised, you'd fetch things from around your house to patch him up - wanting to mend him as fast as possible. Anytime he had that distant look in his eyes, you'd always sit him down - suggesting that he talk his problems over with you.

You always seemed to know what he needed - what anyone needed. And while he appreciated your simple, loving and, albeit, persistent gestures, he knew you needed the same treatment. Maybe even, more so.

He wanted to give you that care you give to everyone else, though he didn't want to step over the romance line. Well not yet, anyway.

Tangerine was over yours for the evening, the casual hangout designed for dinner. He had previously made you promise to keep it small, to not go overboard with the food. Though, when you started cooking the meals, you could not seem to stop - all the prior dishes making you question if it would be something he even liked at all. So, in your mind, preparing four different meals to choose from would be a safe bet.

"Sit down, would'ya? Stop faffing," Tangerine calls out to you in the kitchen, his arse parked on a dining seat you had previously directed him to.

"I'll be five minutes, ten max— shit... think we're looking at fifteen."

"You gonna let me help you?" he questions, getting ansty from his unhelpful sitting. He wanted you to let him help. "Give me something to do."

"Got it all covered," you call out, poking your head through the door to see him. You were frazzled, and you took on more than you could handle.

His head tilts softly, a faint tut of his mouth letting you know he didn't buy your lies. "Oh yeah?" he entertains your fib, eyes playful. "What was that all that swearing for then?"

You look down at your bleeding finger and subtly move to hide it - putting it out of Tan's view. "Dropped my teatowel," you shrug. "Pasta is almost cooked— so uh, that's good. Okay, then. Just pick at the bread there. Will be done soon."

You head over to one of your cupboards and search for something to stop the bleeding, a plaster hopefully. But all you can find is a lonely, crumpled-up one in the crack —all your others going to Tangerine's cuts and scrapes— and you sigh. Picking it up, you attempt to unwrap it, but your bloodied finger makes you lose your grip.

"You alright?" Tangerine asks, his stealth-like walk peeking up on you from behind. "What you doing?"

"Yeah," you hum, looking at him over your shoulder. "Just waiting for this water to boil," you partially lie, nodding to the pot on the stovetop.

"You're a shit liar," he scoffs in his usual way, walking to get closer to you. "What have you done?" he asks, voice reaching a pitch that can only indicate worry, his eyes glued to your finger.

"It's just a cut. It's fine— it'll stop in a minute," you deflect, acting casual as you fiddle with the wrapper, still trying to open it.

He shakes his head and inhales harshly, reaching for the plaster in your hand.

You protest, tightening your grip. "It's alright, I got it."

He shakes his head again, clearly displeased. He loosely holds under your hand, guiding you towards the sink, where he directs it under the water - trying to stop the bleeding quicker.

"Seriously, it's okay. I'll put—"

"Just," he interrupts, tone pointed, though it holds no malice. "Let me help you for chrissake."

You close your mouth with a snap, his comment halting any further dismissals.

He holds your finger under the warm, flowing tap, watching the water turn slowly from a soft orange and back to clear. He's quiet, silently taking care of you in the ways he's almost longed for. The moment when you finally allow his help - all of it feeling like a small step forward.

He reaches for a piece of kitchen paper and wraps it around your finger, drying it with his gaze focused down.

"Why won't you let me help you?" he asks quietly, his question cutting through the comfortable silence. It sounded like it was weighing heavy on his mind.

"What do you mean?" you question, unsure what he meant.

He glances up to look at you, head cocking to the side. "Come on," he chuckles faintly. "You know what I mean."

"I do let you help."

He's amused, or so you think. He was too hard to read. "Hardly… I want to do things for you. I want to help you. Why won't you let me?"

You pull your hand away and hold the paper compress by yourself - feeling embarrassed from his mild ridicule. "I always have it covered, that's all," you shrug. "I don't need help."

He could tell you were shutting yourself off, though he's adamant not to let that happen. "I ain't gonna disappoint you, you know that?" he says, words firm, but they were filled with something far softer: unexpressed, repressed love. "You look after everyone else... I want to look after you."

A soft frown-like smile lines your lips, and you finally look up to meet his eyes. He really meant it.

"Just give me a piece of cucumber to cut or a towel to fold— something," he attempts a joke - trying to lighten the mood. "Just let me be useful to you, yeah? Let me in."

You nod, even more progress.

"Good," he nods back, a faint grin spreading across his face. He reaches for the plaster, opening it as if it were nothing and grabs your hand - carefully holding your finger. "Now let's cover this fucker up before it gets all over your pretty top, hm?"

so independent reader coded

#tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine fluff #tangerine bullet train

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dailyfoodlovers · 6 months

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We are gathered today, in this fast casual dining establishment, to celebrate the union, of Anita Burger and Asad F. Fries

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sinkovia · 7 months

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Black Market: III

Hitman Simon Riley x Doctor Fem!Reader

In desperate need of money to clear a million-dollar debt, you accept Simon's offer to become his personal doctor, earning twenty percent of each contract he completes. But as you plunge back into the black market, ghosts from your past emerge, threatening to unravel everything you've worked so hard to run away from.

Mention of sexual assault, mention of Simon Riley's canon backstory, light angst.

Masterlist - Black Market Masterlist

A few weeks passed and with thousands of dollars now sitting in your bank account, you began to reassess the deal you had made with Simon, realizing that it wasn't as terrible as you had initially thought. Slowly, you found yourself lowering your defenses and growing more at ease in his presence and the space around you.

Simon respected your wish to not accompany him on contracts, so you found yourself reluctantly harvesting organs from someone he had killed just minutes ago. It was a grim task, but you saw it as the least you could do for him being so cooperative with your demands.

As you worked, Simon leaned against the counter, watching you tear apart the insides of the man and carefully placing his organs into iced containers. "Thought you wanted to save lives? Here you are tearing into a man I only killed minutes ago," he teased, a smirk playing on his lips. You rolled your eyes at his comment.

"You offered me twenty thousand knowing I'm in desperate need of money. You're a sick man, Simon," you retorted, continuing your work without missing a beat. Simon simply smiled, crossing his muscular arms over his chest.

He looked at the dead man split in half on the table and then to you, marveling at your focused precision and fast hands as you expertly took him apart.

"You think you could've brought him back?" he asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice. You smiled as you took out the last part, carefully placing his heart in the ice chest and sealing the container shut. Then, you turned to Simon, your smile lingering.

"I know I could have," you replied confidently. "But he would have been brain dead."

With that, you took off your gloves and sighed before heading up the steps to your bedroom for a much-needed shower. Simon remained in the basement, his mind swirling with questions about you. He had never cared for anyone before; his life had revolved around accepting contracts and killing people for money.

No socializing, no interests, no curiosity for other people. But you were different. There was something about you that intrigued him, something that made him want to peel back the layers and uncover your past.

Simon formed a plan in his head to extract any sliver of information from you that would allow him to delve into your history. He needed to know what made you such a skilled doctor at such a young age, considering that medical school takes years of study and experience to achieve the level of proficiency you display.

You were lying in bed, engrossed in the book that Simon had so graciously bought for you when the savory aroma of garlic and herbs wafted into the room.

Your stomach grumbled in response, prompting you to abandon your reading and make your way to the kitchen. Simon looked up as he set two plates down on the dining table.

"Made you dinner to make up for earlier,"

You raised a skeptical eyebrow as you surveyed the meal before you, but your doubts vanished the moment you took the first bite. "Holy shit, I didn't think you knew how to cook like this," genuine surprise evident in your tone.

A smile tugged at Simon's lips at your reaction. "Wanted to be a cook when I was younger," he admitted casually.

Which hadn’t been a lie, when he was younger he dreamed of opening his own restaurant.

Your eyebrows raised at his revelation. You hadn't expected him to be so open about himself. Relaxing into your chair, you took a sip of wine before sharing a bit of your own past. "I wanted to be a florist."

Simon's interest was piqued, finally getting a glimpse into your backstory. "Florist to surgeon? Pretty different occupations," he remarked, taking a sip of his own wine.

You laughed as you finished your glass and reached for the bottle to pour yourself more. "From a cook to a hitman?" you teased lightly.

Simon grinned in response. "Fair enough.”

Curious about what had steered him away from his childhood dream, you prodded gently, "What steered you away?"

Simon's expression shifted briefly, a flicker of memories passing through his eyes as he glanced down at his plate. "Different circumstances,"

Reflecting on your own past, you nodded in understanding. "Yeah, me too," you murmured, the weight of shared experiences hanging in the air between you.

As the evening wore on and a few more glasses of wine were shared between you and Simon, you found yourself loosening up. Eventually, you began to vent about your past jobs, particularly about a hospital where the nurses were brain dead fucks. You launched into a rant about all of them, each one seemingly worse than the last.

Simon listened intently, his grin widening as he realized the wealth of information you were unwittingly providing him. With each complaint, he mentally cataloged the names and details, knowing that he now had enough clues to get a glimpse into your past.

That night as you slept upstairs, Simon delved into the depths of the internet, scouring through various websites until he stumbled upon a list of old employers associated with your previous job. It didn't take long for him to piece together the missing parts of your identity, and soon enough, he discovered your last name.

Simon navigated through the dark web, his fingers typing in your name with a mixture of curiosity. What he found made his stomach clench.

Before him lay a website, one he was all too familiar with, an organization specializing in sex work. As he scrolled through, he saw old listings featuring you, offering your services for hire. He glanced away when he clicked on a link and saw pictures of you dressed in scant clothing, your eyes reflecting a mixture of exhaustion and fear.

You were only a teenager, no older than seventeen.

His eyes read over an old listing offering a hefty reward for anyone who could locate and return you to them.

It didn't even cross his mind to entertain the idea of betraying you. In his eyes, you were worth infinitely more than any sum of money or reward. As he sat there, reflecting on your past and the horrors you endured, he couldn't fathom the thought of dragging you back into that nightmarish world.

Your value to him went beyond any material gain, your skill as a doctor made you irreplaceable. And as someone who understood the pain of being used, he couldn't bear the thought of subjecting you to that kind of life again.

With a heavy sigh, he leaned back in his chair, everything suddenly made sense, your reluctance to work for him, your aversion to joining him on contracts.

He hadn't expected you to be remotely tied to the black market, let alone be a victim of it. He had unknowingly brought you back to a world you were desperately trying to escape.

You find yourself unable to sleep, plagued by a throbbing headache that refuses to go away. Desperate for relief, you make your way down to the basement in search of Advil, hoping it will alleviate the pounding in your head. As you reach the last step of the basement you see simon at his desk with his back turned toward you.

Your eyes glance at the computer screen and your heart plummets.

Images of your younger self, captured and exploited, sold into a life of servitude and suffering. The shock of seeing your own face reflected back at you in such a vulnerable state leaves you reeling, the pain in your head momentarily forgotten in the wake of this unwelcome intrusion into your past.

"Happy with what you found?" The words escaped your lips before you could stop them, your voice tinged with bitterness. Simon's startled expression told you he hadn't anticipated your arrival, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and guilt.

"Just wanted to know who you were… wanted to know why you didn’t want to work for me," he explained, his voice tinged with a hint of remorse.

You couldn't tear your gaze away from the screen, the images of your younger self serving as a painful reminder of the horrors you endured.

"Sometimes people want their lives and past to be private," you murmured, your words heavy with the weight of years of suffering and trauma.

Simon knew that feeling better than anyone.

"I'm sorry," Simon offered, his apology hanging in the air like a fragile thread.

"No, you're not," you muttered bitterly, turning away and ascending the steps. As you disappeared from view, he sighed heavily, sinking back into his chair.

“Fuckin hell.”

The next morning, you found Simon waiting for you with breakfast prepared, a silent acknowledgment of his attempt to bridge the gap between you. Awkwardly, you took your seat at the table, the tension between you thick as you both ate in silence. The weight of his invasion of your privacy hung heavily in the air.

But then, as if unable to bear the tension any longer, Simon spoke up, his voice carrying the weight of his own past.

"The reason I didn't pursue my dream as a kid was because I enlisted in the military… my captain sold me out and I was captured, tortured, and used... anything to break my will and force me into blind obedience to their commands."

"I escaped," he continued, "After being buried alive and digging my way out with the jaw of the rotting corpse I was buried with. I made it home, went to therapy, and fixed my family troubles."

As he spoke, you could feel the weight of his trauma, the scars etched into his very being. "My teammates were also captured, but they were brainwashed. When I returned home one night, I found my family dead, my former team being responsible for their deaths. I hunted them down with the help of the black market and killed them. Since then, I've remained in this line of work.."

You sat there in stunned silence, his words sinking in like heavy stones in a pond. Simon continued to eat as if what he had just revealed was just another fact of life.

In that moment, you realized he already knew so much about your past; perhaps it was time to lay it all bare. With a heavy heart, you met his gaze, finding a shared understanding in the depths of his eyes.

“I was seventeen when a few men broke into my house one night, dragged me and my parents into the living room, and made me watch as they tortured my dad and had their way with my mom before killing the both of them.”

Your focus shifted to the small droplets of water falling against the side of your cup, each one mirroring the weight of the memories you carried.

“I was sold around before I made my way to the organization you were looking at last night. There was a group of us, we were sold to different men for our services.” The room fell silent as you paused, your gaze dropping to your lap for a few moments.

Simon, ever perceptive, sensed your discomfort in revisiting those painful moments from your past. “You don't have to talk about it, love,” he said gently, his voice carrying an understanding tone. “I understand—”

“A lot of the girls were rebellious, so they would get taught lessons,” you cut him off, your voice carrying the weight of each painful memory.

“That's where I learned how to patch up the girls with very little supplies. The man in charge noticed, so he made me start patching up the men who worked for him.” You picked at the skin around your nails as you furrowed your brows. Simon’s gaze never left you, his eyes bouncing over your facial expressions.

“Their injuries weren’t just simple scratches and cuts. They would get stabbed, or shot, and when I failed to save one of them, he made me watch as he tortured one of the girls, killing her slowly as my punishment… It happened two more times after that. I wasn't a fucking surgeon, I didn't know what I was doing.” you recounted, your now fingers picking at the hem of the place mat, the memories still haunting you.

“My lack of skill resulted in the deaths of three girls. I spent five years there, playing doctor for him when he needed it and earning him money with my services. During one of my transports for a service, the car was attacked by one of their rivals, which allowed me to escape. Now I'm here.”

The weight of those years is heavy in your voice. The barriers between you seemed to dissolve, replaced by a shared understanding of the pain and suffering you both carried within you.

"I became skilled out of necessity; failure meant the death of innocent girls."

You took a deep breath before locking eyes with him. “I'm sorry about what happened to you and your family. You didn't deserve that."

You paused for a second before continuing, "I wish you never enlisted.” His brows furrowed as he studied your expression. “Why?”

“Because you’d be working at some restaurant, and I would have never met you or been dragged back into this business.” Simon exhaled deeply, leaning back in his chair.

“You're safe here. We're nowhere near Russia, and if someone tried to fulfill the contract, I’d be here to protect you.” You furrowed your brows, your voice tinged with confusion. “What contract?”

“There’s an eight hundred thousand dollar contract open to whoever can deliver you back to Finn.” Your expression twisted with disgust at the mention of his name, recalling the fear he instilled in you for years.

“When was the contract posted?” Simon shook his head. “Years ago.” You nodded slowly as you picked at your food with your fork.

“I'm sorry, for digging into your past and dragging you back into this, you didn’t deserve that. If you want to leave you can.” You smiled and scoffed, “And pass up a free bodyguard, free five-star meals, and easy money? Yeah right.” Simon laughed and you smiled.

“Resourceful girl.”

“What can I say.”

You finished off your breakfast with a comfortable silence and some light back and forth about a new contract Simon was thinking about accepting. Simon picked up both plates and rinsed them off before putting them in the dishwasher.

“A colleague of mine is coming in two weeks or so, he’s going to help me with a contract.”

You hummed and nodded your head, “Where is he going to stay?”

Simon grabbed a bowl of fruit out of the fridge and started picking at it. “He’s staying here.” You furrowed your brows and leaned against the counter next to Simon, your arm grazing his slightly as you reached for a strawberry in the bowl.

He watched as you brought the plump strawberry to your lips, looking away before you glanced back up at him. “What’s he like?”

“Don’t worry, you're safe around him, he is Scottish though.” You lifted your brow as you looked up at him, “Is being Scottish bad?”

“Bastard will talk your ear off.”

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