#idk how accurate this is for anyone else

[aroace-ed]

it is painful, sometimes, to love platonically in a way that is so rarely fully reciprocated. i really don't know how to explain the way i feel, but right now, it feels like when you're a child and you have your best friend, and they're the person you will always go to to hang out. the way you'd beg your parents for an extra five minutes to play together with random little secrets and handshakes. how you'd talk about the future and plan out how you both will live together in the same apartment and go to the same school, promising that you'll be together forever. it feels like every friend i've had grew up and found love in romance where i'm still clinging onto the same dream from childhood.

[chainsawworld]

Does anyone want to do something gay

[basedonconjecture]

On the one hand, I don’t subscribe to call out culture or dogpiling or doxxing and believe people on the internet should be allowed to remain anonymous if they want to be.

But, on the other, I think if you’re running an anon hate blog specifically to spew vitriol about fans of a game you apparently hated as well as other fans of your favorite character from said game while writing fanfic about said character/ship and loling at people whom you hate giving you praise unknowingly then you should do so with your full chest. You shouldn’t get to benefit from the community you’re mocking from behind an alt with a default pfp.

[girlivealwaysbean]

hey god if you've created someone for me can you introduce me to them sooner? i kinda need them now

[penitenteyeball]

Dum de dum dum

Gonna add max tags and max characters to each cause who cares

[mechahero]

@outofthiisworld asked-🔥 - character designs (like pet peeves in designs? things you like that others don’t? Whatever rustles ur feathers let it rip) unpopular(?) opinions (accepting)

I kind of don't really like super complicated designs? Yeah, they can be cool and all but if they're kind of hard for me to draw, I'm not exactly going to like them very much. (Yeah, I can always simplify it but my brain's very particular about that kind of thing. See, idk, Gen.shin Imp.act as an example bc hoo boy, I do not like the way a lot of those character designs look.)

Idk, I think I like simplicity but as long as it's not too simple of a design? Like do a little extra something with it while also being easy for me to parse and I'll be pretty much fine with it!

[thatsmistertoyou]

look I know they just rolled out polls after years of begging but I’m gonna need polls with multiple options asap. ‘check all that apply’ but with nonsense

[serialgirlposter]

Honestly i'd rlly like to play the new final fantasy but the racist comments of the producer are really putting me of. I wouldn't buy square enix games directly form them in the first place and i know it's like a company wide issue. Idk i wish people would actually talk about this. It's a huge problem in kh as well.

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

i unfortunately didn't have time to do my protagonist valentines this year againnn due of a lot of life things piling up 💔😔 but also because i'm shoving them all into The Vault™️ again for 8 more years to further story development and to see if shit actually gits gud/makes any got damn sense

(↑ random screenshot of a shitpost i never finished lol, just so this post isn't super empty)

[ravenalla]

Narilamb gives me the same vibes as Paperhat

[puppys-rhythm-heaven]

"i think today's a listening to remix 7 on loop kinda day" -me, 2023

[tsams-and-co-memes]

Not sure what I was expecting, but huh. This was neat, thanks for the tag! :D

New tag game (because I'm feeling a bit better today 😎):

I got this

Tagging all my moots and followers. To name a few: @mastreworld @asherloki @dangertoozmanykids101 @magic-coffee @rhysaka @aahanna @redfoxwritesstuff @coffee-and-cogs @abby118 @alwida10 @sigridlaufeyson @alexakeyloveloki @supervillainarchaeologist @thelibraryofsylphide @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @perpetualwhimsy @decemberpdf @nildespirandum

[mmaybanks]

a pogue christmas

pairing: bsf!jj x reader

summary: the pogues are celebrating christmas and jj decides to risk ruining it all for a simple mistletoe kiss

warning(s): fluff, kissing, suggestive/sexual comments and jokes, mentions of abuse/bad family, soft jj, suggestive (?) ending

a/n: i blurred the girl’s face in the photo because idk who it is and i don’t want anyone getting confused😭 also its almost christmas and this story is kinda based on a joke i have with a friend!! ALSO this is my first post and im nervous so be nice pls😞

wc: ≈ 2.5k

masterlist

it was the week before christmas, and now that the pogues offically had a house of their own, you were the most excited to decorate. sadly, it would have to be done after some begging.

"please, jay. i know you wanna." you sing out, disrupting the previously peaceful silence. the groans of all the pogues were heard. "y/n, why do you wan'to decorate so bad? it's not your first christmas." john b asked. he wasn't opposed to it, but neither was sarah, or pope, or kiara, or cleo. it really was just jj, and for the others, the fact that it took effort contributed.

"can i not enjoy something?" you sighed feigning disappointment, "fine, i'll just decorate all alone, risk my falling to my death, or breaking my back from the heav–"

"god damn, woman. c'mon, let's go get you a tree and some lights." jj abruptly cut you off. you turned back to him with wide eyes, from surprise, but also guilt. he didn't look happy to do it. sarah stifled a laugh from the interaction, watching as two of her best friends stared. "it's fine jj–we don't have to. no one else wants to."

he rolled his eyes, but stood from the couch. when you just stared at him, he sighed loudly. "let's go." he ordered. you let out a quiet squeal, hopping off the couch and to your room, where you grabbed a pair of sneakers to wear out.

the night was spent decorating a newly bought christmas tree, hanging lights throughout the house, and drinking hot cocoa.

after a long few hours, it was nearing midnight. the rest of the pogues were off to 'sleep', while jj stayed up with you. you were still trying to decorate, still having ideas–just no longer the energy to keep doing them.

"c'mere." jj mumbled from his spot on the couch. you look back at him over your shoulder, seeing his eyes closed. you took the opportunity to let your vision linger on his arm and shoulder muscles, sure he wouldn't notice. "y'know if you came over you could get a better look, maybe cop a feel." he smirked, tease evident in his tone.

"maybe i was just worried about your temperature, think of that?" you weakly defended against the accurate allegations. "mhm." his voice so weak and rough, but maintaining the playfulness. god, can you blame a girl?

you took a few small strides to the edge of the couch, lowering yourself into his warm embrace. the moment you were in his arms he held on tight. you tried not to focus on how close your bodies were, so close you could feel his breath against your shoulder. goosebumps spread across your bare legs, clad only in small shorts with a christmas pattern.

"i think if anyone's wearin' a concerning amount of clothes, it's you." he whispered, tapping his icy cold fingers against your legs. "i'm fine like this." you lied impulsively. there was no reason, no need, but you hated him to be right about every part of you.

"right, no yeah, of course baby." he played along, the nickname sliding off his tongue too easy. you could feel your heart beat a bit faster, but your breathing slowed against his. "yeah well, these are also the only christmas pajamas i have, so." he hummed in agreement. maybe just to assure you he heard, maybe just to assure himself he was awake.

"can i ask you something?" you paused, once again getting a hum in place for a response. "and you answer honestly." at the suddenly serious tone, he opened his eyes.

he gently pushed up onto his elbows, looking down at you. he stared, trying to memorize every feature he could while he could. he loved being this close to you, being able to see every detail possible. every pore, every color in your eyes–if they were open. all of you. it wasn't until you opened your eyes a few seconds later he realized he hadn't responded.

"yeah. 'course. complete and total honesty." he assured, strong eye contact held since your eyes opened. "yeah." you echoed in a mindless mutter.

you snapped back into your mind after a split moment, your eyes finding the ceiling suddenly very interesting. "um, so why–why didn't you want to decorate? for christmas."

you noticed his jaw clench and unclench before he opened his mouth to speak. it was shut just as quickly, and you could see him searching for the right words to say. "i jus' uh, didn't ever have any good memories with it, y'know? growin' up poor, with a shitty father, not really fun."

oh. "mh, yeah, 'm sorry. i guess i never thought of it like that." he sighed, looking down to his fingers tapping against your side. "no biggie." he forced a laugh, almost sounding genuine, but the sad undertones shown through.

"well, y'know what that means?" you couldn't hide the smile that threatened to show on your face, but part of you didn't want to. it kept the atmosphere not too heavy. "what's that?"

"y'gotta make good new memories." he smiled at your optimism. "thanks for today. it means a lot."

instead of a verbal response, he just settled down comfortably, wrapping his arms around you closer.

the following week was spent with a lot of talk of christmas. you were determined to make good memories of christmas for jj–making gingerbread houses, binging christmas movies, baking regular cookies, everything you could think of. so focused on that, you had yet to notice the simple decoration above the doorframe of the kitchen and living room that you didn't add.

it was christmas eve, another night where the pogues had all already went to bed. to your knowledge, all of them had.

earlier you had all decided against gifts, which was understandable. even after el dorado, you didn't have infinite money to spend. but, you had saved up just enough for christmas presents for everyone. nothing too extravagant or expensive, but small things with meaning to them.

each and every present had a story or inside meaning with the person it was for. jj's gift was a handmade bracelet you made for yourself a few months ago that jj would always point out. you tried to give it to him multiple times but he would always refuse.

"what'cha got there?" a loud whisper called out, causing your soul to practically leave your body. "jesus, jj. what are you doing awake?"

his body shook with a laugh against the doorframe he was leaning against. "nuh-uh, i asked a question first."

you sighed, "mm, jus' a few itty-bitty presents." you smiled like you had just been caught doing something bad, which to be fair, you were doing something you said you wouldn't. "mhm, i thought we weren't doing presents?"

"it's a . . . christmas miracle?" you retorted, sounding too much like a question. "okay, look. i got you all presents but they were before that and it was all cheap. promise."

his eyes softened at your guilty voice. clearing this throat, he walked over and sat beside you on the ground. your shoulders were touching, as were your knees, and it made you wonder if he felt as nauseous with nerves as you did.

"'s okay. i won't tell." he leaned closer, a playful fire in his eyes, his tone playful as always. "promise." he repeated back to you. a moment of silence passed before he spoke again. "so what'd you get me?"

you rolled your eyes and scoffed, feigning annoyance. "you can't wait 5 hours?" he shook his head 'no', a grin exposing himself.

"nope." he looked away from you, at the pile of presents on the floor. he shoved his shoulder on yours before standing up, looking at you expectantly, stretching his arms in a way that had you drooling.

he didn't say another word, but you felt like you were supposed to follow him. you did, but you were so focused on his shoulders, the soft lighting from the tree lights really highlighting each ridge of his muscles, that you hadn't noticed his sudden stop.

you ran right into his back, now in shock and very confused.

"huh." he spoke, looking at your eyes and up, back and forth, before continuing. "would you look at that." he acted amused, like it was a coincidence.

but under that facade, his palms were sweaty, his heart was pounding fast and hard–feeling like it was going to explode out of his chest. he couldn't help but have a million thoughts running through his head all at once, wondering how this would go. he hoped all of the stolen glances meant to you what they had always meant to him.

you looked up after he had done it twice, now realizing what he was talking about. you could feel your cheeks warm, your heartbeat in your neck, but all you could really focus on was jj.

the bright blue eyes you had learned to lose yourself in, the lips you longed for, him in his entirety. the jj you had fallen in love with. that same jj, wanted to kiss you.

you felt like you couldn't breath. what if this was just him making another flirty joke to you? but with the way he looked at you in this moment, there was no way, his eyes were flickering between your eyes and your lips. they got stuck on your lips repeatedly. he wanted to feel them on his, wanted to taste you, if even only for a moment.

"rules are rules, right?" he whispered, his hands slowly inching to grab your waist. his thumbs rubbed up and down on the now exposed skin, the flimsy cropped shirt doing nothing to cover the goosebumps spread on your entire body.

a weak, "yeah." was all you could manage to get out, all other sounds caught deep in your throat. "yeah?" he echoed, silently begging for confirmation that you wanted this and this was actually happening. he needed to know this wasn't another dream.

"mhm. rules, y'know. pope would kill us if we didn't follow the rules." at your small joke he let out a huffy-laugh, shaking his head, trying to wipe the smile off his own face.

the moment of comfortable laughter was replaced quickly, the air feeling thicker by the second. one of his hands moved from your waist to your face, the other traveling lower to your hip. he gave it a slight squeeze as he tilted your head up.

the anticipation was killing you, but in the best way imaginable. you pushed forward, your lips finally meeting his in a desperate, but delicate kiss. the type of kiss that showed how much he wanted to kiss you, how long he's been waiting, how much he's holding back. the delicacy surprised you, you thought it would be a more heated kiss, but jj was scared of spilling his all into it and ruining it completely.

somewhere in the back of his mind, he worried that this wasn't a good way to confess, but he remembered the reason thats how he did it. john b had somehow convinced him that if you didnt like him back, he could play it off as 'usual jj flirting', but now he wasn't sure he could.

you gripped the back of his shirt, pulling him closer. his hand migrated again to your lower back, using the placement to press your body further into his. the warmth of your cuddled bodies, and in his chest, made up for the winter weather and the lack of clothing on your bodies.

you could feel his tongue poke your bottom lip ever so slightly, almost like he wasn't ready. at that thought, you could feel your lips form a smile but you were unable stop it, breaking the kiss. "wow." you breathed out. "pretty good, right?"

you forced a nod out, ignoring the underlying tone of humor in his question. you couldn't help yourself from giggling, both at your reactions and at the excitement from finally being able to kiss him. "what're ya laughing at?"

"you." he raised an eyebrow, pointing to himself. "you just kissed me." you smiled.

"christmas miracle, amirite?" you smiled to yourself, pulling him closer to hide your face in his chest. "shut up." you mumbled into his shirt. "baby, i got you in my arms right now, it's gotta be some typa miracle."

"oh yeah? this can't be just because i want to?" you teased, pulling back. the shit-eating grin on your face morphed into something a lot softer when you noticed jj's body subconsciously rock closer to you. "nah, you wouldn't."

"no?" you asked, pressing your lips into his again, and again, and again. the kisses slowly became more and more natural as you did. "nope. no way."

"jj." he paused his movement to continue, looking you straight in the eye. "yeah?"

you hesitated for a second, and jj could tell what was coming next, so he began his long awaited confession.  "i like you. like, a lot. i mean, fuck, i love you. i can't, i just, don't know–"

"i love you too jay." you cut him off, knowing he was just going to spiral. "you're so cute, oh my god." you squeal after his dimples pop into his cheeks. he pushes your hand away from his cheeks, trying to avoid you noticing his flush.

"'m not cute. just, c'mere." he whispered to not break the comfortable bubble surrounding you two. he reached in for a hug, swooping his arms under yours, wrapping around your chest loosely. your arms raised to around his neck, inching your face closer again. he buried his head into the crevice of your neck, breathing you in.

"and why would i do that?" you giggled to yourself, enjoying the act of confusion and innocence. "i love you."

his suddenly serious confession caught you off guard, catching your breath in seconds. you kissed the top of his head, squeezing your arms tighter. from behind you, he could see the clock turn to midnight. "best christmas ever."

"yeah?" you asked, relief and happiness overflowing your senses. "mhm." he gently kissed you again, swiftly picking you up. out of reflex, you wrapped your legs around his torso. "jj, if you drop me i swear—"

"relax, baby. i won’t drop you." he giggled in your neck. he laid your down against the couch, letting himself lay comfortably between your legs. he rested his head on your shoulder, giving one more peck to your cheek. his fingers gripped onto your plush thighs, not planning on moving anywhere, just to hold. his lips began a descent down your neck, gentle enough to feel but not leave marks. "can it be christmas more often?"

"how ’bout we leave the mistletoe up, that way you can man up and kiss me everyday." he nodded. as he cuddled closer, his nose brushed your neck, small laughter erupting from it tickling you. "how ’bout, everyday, no mistletoe needed?" he whispered.

"works for me." you giggled out, his mouth kissing for any skin in sight. his affections sent shivers down your spine, the soft rub on your legs causing you to let out a soft sigh. he smirked at the noise escaping your lips, capturing yours and his again in a more heated and messy way this time.

"c'mon guys, not on the couch."

[angel-sweets666]

stuck together

Barbarian bakugo x princess! Reader

Your parents arranged you to the brash and rude prince of the barbarians to save their own skin. CHAPTER TWO HERE

warnings and stuff inside of the story: talks of virginity, talks of a virginity check (its accurate to the time period ok?) a/n should I make this a series? I think it’d be fun but idk ur rich btw so just like there’s rich stuff.

THE FULL VERSION IS OUTTT, truely ask and you shall receive. Anyways this is the full edited and lengthened part one I hope it’s better then the sneak peak I gave you guys

AGED UP

Mitsuki leaned back, her piercing gaze fixed on your parents. "So, what do you say? You give us your daughter, and we'll form an alliance," she proposed, pausing for their response. "It would offer protection from the Todoroki kingdom Flamoria, no?" The blonde woman smiled at your father, trying to sway him.

Flamoria had a habit of attacking your home kingdom, however in recent years the bakugos have managed to not only defeat the todorokis but make their kingdom subservient to them.

Your mother hesitated. "I mean, I dunno…"

"We'll do it," he interrupted, cutting off your mother.

"Huh?!" Your mother turned to him, shock evident on her face.

"Perfect. Sign here," Mitsuki said smoothly, handing them a piece of paper which already had both mitsuki and masarus names written down. It was a betrothal agreement, arranging the marriage between you and her hot-tempered son, Bakugo.

Your father reached for the pen, the gravity of the situation pressing down on him. "This will secure our safety and ensure a powerful ally," he murmured, almost convincing himself as much as anyone else.

"But our daughter…" your mother started, her voice filled with concern and disbelief. She looked at Mitsuki, then back at your father, torn between the political necessity and the love for her child.

"We don't have a choice," your father replied firmly, signing the paper. "This alliance is crucial for our kingdom's survival. The Empyrean empire is strong.”

Mitsuki's smile widened as she took the signed document. "Excellent. You won't regret this. Bakugo will make a fine husband, many heirs will come from this, she is a virgin right?” The blonde asks “we can get her checked for it, *name* was very sheltered growing up so we can assure you she’s a virgin.” Your father explains, leaning back in his own squeaky wooden chair. His gaze turns to your mother, who seems distraught about marrying off her child to the barbarian prince. Someone famous for being a violent person.

at 17 years old bakugo had brought back the head of a powerful tribe leader and put it on a stick for everyone to see, at 18 years old he had gathered a small army of men and defeated the midoriya kingdom and had a bloody cloak from the one of the dead soilders to prove it. Then at 20 years old bakugo had forced izuku, the Feywood king to surrender his crown. Which put feywood in the empyrean empire. No one knows where izuku midoriya currently is, all the people know is that he was last scene getting dragged by his green locks by bakugo and was never seen again.

Later on

“YOU ARRANGED ME TO WHO!?” You screamed, staring at your parents in complete horror. How could they do this to you? You make one wrong move and your own husband would order your death! “Look it’s not so bad..” “NOT SO BAD? HES KILLED HUNDREDS! THOUSANDS EVEN” “He won’t kill you though!” Your father exclaimed, An attempt to calm you. “Look, bakugo may seem like a man killing war machine of a prince but his parents assured us that he’s very gentle with women.” You scoffed, leaning your weight to one hip “bullshit. He’s gonna kill me. Brutally, he’s gonna hack off my head just you watch”

Over the next few weeks, you tried everything to call off the arrangement. You attempted to run away before the virginity check, faked illness, and came up elaborate excuses. Nothing seemed to work. Your parents were stubborn, insisting that you marry Katsuki Bakugo for the strength of their own kingdom.

Lying in bed, you tossed and turned, unable to escape the looming dread of marrying the great, scary barbarian prince, soon to be barbarian king. What if he rips your head off just because you refuse to give him a kiss? The thought made your heart race with fear.

Suddenly, a knock on the door snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts. A maid entered, her eyes gloomy with pity . "Your Highness? Tomorrow we will wake you early to help you begin packing for the travel to the Empyrean Kingdom," she said softly, her voice trembling as she tried to avoid any kind of trouble.

You groaned and turned your head toward her. "When am I being sent to them?" you asked

"U-uh, most likely the day after tomorrow," the maid stammered, clearly uneasy with your distress.

You sighed deeply, feeling the weight of your impending fate settle even heavier on your shoulders. "I see… thank you," you muttered.

You looked back at the red headed maid “How far is the journey?” You asked her softly, she fidgeted with her fingers “a-about two days, they live f-far from our kingdom your highness” she stammered. You smiled to the red head and dismissed her.

As she left you stared at the ceiling, your mind racing. The thought of being married off to someone you had never met, someone with a terrifying reputation, filled you with a sense of dread and hopelessness. Your parents decision felt like a betrayal, a sacrifice of your happiness for the supposed greater good of the kingdom

You stood in the corner of your large room, watching as numerous servants took gowns, corsets, shoes, and other clothing items, placing them into bags. "U-uh, don’t barbarians wear less formal clothes? Shouldn’t I bring less?" you asked the maids. All of them turned to look at you, a hint of surprise on their faces.

"Her Highness makes a point," the same red-headed maid from the night before whispered to an older maid. The older maid, seemingly more experienced, turned toward you with a thoughtful expression.

"You're right, Your Royal Highness. They would probably end up burning these clothes or turning them into barbarian-styled garments," she conceded.

You sighed, your shoulders dropping in resignation. "What do barbarian women wear?" you asked the older maid, hoping for some clarity.

"Hm… flowy skirts, I’ve seen a few wear headdresses," she replied, as some of the gowns were hung back up in the closet. The maids began to sift through your belongings, selecting items that might be more appropriate for your new life.

As you watched the process, you couldn’t help but glance out the window. Your mother and father were walking in the garden, deep in conversation. They seemed so in love, so perfectly matched, yet they were throwing you into a marriage that promised nothing but misery. The contrast between their happiness and your dread was almost unbearable.

"Your Highness, we’ll pack lighter, more practical clothing for your journey," the older maid reassured.

"Thank you," you murmured, though your heart wasn't in it. The thought of being dressed in unfamiliar clothes, adapting to an unknown culture, and being wed to a man you feared only added to your anxiety.

As the servants continued their work, you wandered over to your bed, sinking down onto the edge. The weight of your impending departure pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe. You had grown up surrounded by luxury and love, and now you were being sent away, to marry probably the most violent man you’ve ever heard of

Tears welled up in your eyes as you thought about the future that awaited you. Would you ever find happiness in the Empyrean Kingdom? Would Katsuki Bakugo, the fierce and terrifying prince, ever come to care for you, or would you be nothing more than a means to an end?

"Your Highness, is there anything else you would like us to pack?" one of the younger maids asked, her voice gentle.

You shook your head, wiping away a stray tear. "No, just… make sure to leave out a few comfortable things for me to wear until we leave."

"Of course, Your Highness," she replied, her expression sympathetic.

As the maids continued their preparations, you lay back on your bed, staring up at the white ceiling. You tried to find comfort in the familiar surroundings, knowing that soon you would be leaving them behind.

"So, what's the barbarian kingdom like?" you asked, looking over to the maids. The older maid once again turned her head to look at you.

"Most of the people live in either big wooden houses with all sorts of weapons around or in these hut-like tent things. Either way, they have all these symbols painted on them," she described, clearly having been to the Empyrean Kingdom before.

"And what about the Bakugos? Where do they live? You asked

"They live in a stone castle with intricate paintings on it, and there's a lot of security. The last time I was there, they had spikes on the bridge leading to the castle, with people's heads mounted on them," the old maid replied,

"How long ago were you there?" you asked, feeling a chill run down your spine at the gruesome detail.

"When the young prince was about fifteen, so around five years ago," she said, placing one last corset into a bag.

You glanced at the six bags of items packed for your journey, feeling a mix of relief and trepidation. It was a smaller amount than you had anticipated, yet it seemed to signify the end of one life and the beginning of another.

"Did you meet the prince?" you asked, trying to glean any information that might help you understand the man you were to marry.

"Briefly," she replied, her expression softening. "He was intense, even as a teenager. Always training, always pushing himself. But there was a sadness in his eyes, a loneliness."

You sighed, trying to reconcile the image of the fierce, terrifying prince with the glimpses of vulnerability the maid described. "And the people there? How are they?"

"Fierce, proud, and loyal," the older maid said. "They value strength above all else, but they also have a deep sense of honor and community. If you earn their respect, they'll defend you with their lives."

The more you learned, the more daunting your future seemed. Yet, there was a strange comfort in knowing that the barbarian kingdom, despite its harsh exterior, had its own codes and values.

As the maids continued their work, you tried to imagine what life in the Empyrean Kingdom would be like

"Is there anything else I should know?" you asked, your voice softer, almost hesitant.

The older maid paused, considering your question. "Just remember, Your Highness, that if you respect them and they’ll respect you."

Her words resonated with you, giving you a small but vital sense of empowerment. You nodded “alright, seems easy enough..”

The day that you needed to travel to the empyrean kingdom came, your parents watched you walk to the carriage by the gate as your mother sobbed into your fathers chest.

The ride to the Empyrean Kingdom was grueling. As the carriage rattled over uneven roads, you gazed out the window, the lush greenery of your homeland gradually giving way to the rugged, bushy but covered in tall trees landscape of the barbarian territory. The closer you got, the more your anxiety grew, each kilometre bringing you closer to the empyrean land

When you finally arrived at the castle, you were struck by its threatening look. The stone walls were decorated with weird red painted symbols, and the spiked bridge, as described by the maid, loomed menacingly ahead. Your heart pounded as you stepped out of the carriage, taking in the harsh surroundings.

A group of stern-faced and very attractive guards escorted you inside. The castle's interior was as intimidating as its exterior—dimly lit, with weapons and trophies of past battles displayed prominently on the walls. You felt a shiver run down your spine as you were led through the cold halls. You swore that if you listened close enough you could hear peoples screams in the dungeons below. Fuck was this hell with its 7 rings?

Finally, you were brought to a large chamber where a tall, muscular figure stood with his back to you. His spiky blonde hair was unmistakable. He was busy looking at a sheet of paper, the one oddly similar to the ones your parents shown you when they first announced your betrothal to bakugo. As he slowly turned to face you, his piercing red eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made you want to look away. He looked almost angry at you, furious even. Which was confusing because you’ve known this man for a whole 10 seconds

he was tall and about 6ft with messy blonde hair, scars all over his body and face, and piercings on his ears and lip.

"So, you're the princess they sent," Katsuki said, his voice dripping with disdain. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, his expression one of barely concealed annoyance. Katsuki had a deep voice that you couldn’t tell if you found attractive or if you wanted to run away and hide.

You straightened your back, meeting his gaze with as much confidence as you could muster. "I am," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady but it ended up sounding shaky.

Bakugo scoffed, looking you up and down as if to check if you were just a weak small baby or strong enough to be a wife and a queen “Great. Another weakling to babysit," he muttered under his breath.

Anger formed within you at his dismissive attitude. "I am not a weakling," you snapped. "And I am certainly not here to be babysat."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "We'll see about that," he said, turning away from you. "Follow me. There's no point in wasting time."

You clenched your fists, biting back a come back to insult him with as you followed him through the castle. Every step echoed in the vast, cold corridors. His steps much louder then yours due to his much larger frame

Bakugo led you to a large hall where a group of people—presumably his advisors and some of the castle staff—were gathered. He introduced you curtly, barely sparing you a glance as he did so. The looks you received ranged from curiosity to outright hostility, they clearly didn’t want you here. Just like the old maid back had home had warned, these people hated the weak.

After the introductions, Bakugo dismissed everyone, including you. "You'll be shown to your chambers. Don't get in my way or else," he said, theblonde clearly trying to end the conversation between you two before he could get sucked into some conversation he didn’t waht

You followed a servant to your chambers, a mix of anger and sadness within you. The room was surprisingly comfortable, a stark contrast to the rest of the castle, but it did little to lift your spirits. You sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the weight of your new reality settle over you.

Over the next few days, you tried to find your place in the castle. The people were distant and wary, their lack of trust clear in their every interaction with you. And Bakugo… he was even worse than most . He ignored you most of the time, and when he did speak to you, it was with a cold, dismissive tone that made your blood boil. He always had a tone of sass, trying to get under your skin constantly.

as the days grew closer and closer to your wedding date he seemed to just get more and more annoying, constantly having some tone of sass. Never wanting to talk to you and constantly flirting with your maids, you even went the effort to fire atleast 4 of them to keep their grotty hands to themselves.

“you done firing my staff now?” Bakugo grumbled as he caught up with you in the stone candle lit halls “your staff? You mean my staff? My staff who you seem to love flirting with” you corrected him, looking over your shoulder at him. The blonde furrowed his eyebrows and scoffed “I pay for them there for their my staff.” He growled, asking faster in an attempt to intimate you “actually, your parents pay for the staff.” “Hah?” “Your parent pay for the staff so their not your staff, their the palaces staff.” You said ignorantly as you played with the lace of your dress. “You gonna get out of that frill fest you call a gown?” He asked, again trying to insult you “if I do I’m gonna shove it up your ass” “excuse me?”

“Want me to say it slower? I—WILL—SHOVE—MY—GOW”

“OKAY OKAY SHUT UP WOMAN” he growled at you and walked off in spite “THATS WHAT WHAT I THOUGHT. THATS WHAT I THOUGHT.” You angrily yelled back to him, which in real aspect you were yelling at the back of his ignorant head. You huffed and stormed away in the opposite direction as you wanted nothing more then to get away from that man. As you stomped down the halls, footsteps echoing with each step; you heard a male voice call out to you

“Princess.”

you looked over, a certain brown haired man similar looking to katsuki stared back at you. It was king Masaru “I was looking for you” he says, walking towards you. You quickly curtsied to the king “About what?” You asked “we have a wedding date for you and my son” he smiled warmly as if this was a good thing “o-oh.. and when may that be..?” Your eyebrows furrowed with frustration “a month from now, they will date you to get your gown fitted this week” he seemed overly happy about something neither you or his temperamental son wanted.

“Will I wear a wedding dress from my country or your country?” You asked softly, trying to keep your cool “uh.. our country.” He informed you “I’d rather wear my own wedding gown though, your majesty” “well.. you belong to our kingdom now. We can give you a dress that’s a mix of the two if you’d rather” he compromised, trying to keep with both your and his kingdom. Letting out a sigh your shoulders dropped “I suppose that be okay…” a look of mild disappointment on your face “wonderful, I’m glad we could come to a compromise” he smiled and walked off, an electric blonde guard following close behind him who you earlier learned his name was kaminari. The blonde goofily smiled to you, he seemed like a character. The two men walked off as they chatted, rolling your eyes you too began to walk in the direction of your bedroom chambers.

you couldn’t sleep that night, you tried changing your nightgown, exercising, reading a book, meditating, everything! nothing would help you sleep this night, you wondered if it was the weird interaction with king Masaru or the fact your own fiance was when you think about it was cheating on you with your own staff members. you slowly slid out of bed and out of your silk sheets, rubbing your face up and down with your hands with frustration. Looking down at your feet you sighed, looking out of the window. the night sky was so peaceful unlike your mind which was running with less the pleasant thoughts. How could you get Katsuki to like you? or at least tolerate you in some way so he wouldn't be the most annoying little shit.

The creak of the door hinges squeaks as you pushed the heavy wooden door open, wincing at the high pitch noise. Slowly but quietly gou walked towards the chambers of your future husband. As you approached the door you hear two voices come from the inside

“you’ll need to learn to cherish and care for her eventually”

“why would I do that?” “She is your fiancé! Your future wife! Future mother of your heirs!”

“you except me to fuck her too? Shit.”

“Yes obviously! Your gonna need heirs for our kingdom!”

“fine. Before or after this whole wedding?”

“well In her kingdom, you two do that on the wedding night but to be honest I don’t really care when you do her”

“Too easy”

safe to say your whole face was pink, with either anger or arousal but you couldn’t tell

Tag list!

@sagejin @teeesthings @hiimsaraandyou

@peachysuguru @luvgumii

@v3n7s @iangeeluv

[midwestcannibal]

[has a decently normal interaction with no verbal reason to assume it was received poorly] i can feel myself spiraling as we speak

i hate u trying for communication and feeeling ashamed/embarrassed abt it

[twelveyearsofit]

under pressure

word count: 3.8k

summary: You can’t seem to get away from the Marauders and their hopeless flirting. After turning them down continually, the four of you get paired up for a Potions project. With the help of a messy dorm room and a record player, you find out you may have more in common than you thought.

content: poly!marauders x slytherin!reader, just a bit of language, kind of enemies to lovers maybe?, a tiny mention of jegulus tehe, grumpy x sunshine trope, idk i think that’s it?? lmk if there’s anything else!

authors notes: here it finally is!! sooo sorry it took me so long to post this, life has been crazy recently! also i know that under pressure isn’t exactly time accurate for when they were at hogwarts but just go along with it ily! i’m probably gonna make this a series so if you have any ideas or suggestions please leave a comment or request! anyways pretty please lmk what you think!! enjoy lovies!

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Another day of trying to fend off the Marauders with a fucking stick. You weren’t known for being particularly warm to anyone, let alone to the three boys who terrorized your house-mates daily, even though you always seemed to escape their pranks untouched. Unfortunately, your cold demeanor never deterred them from trying to charm you. Each of them, in their own way, had attempted to catch your attention, only to find your wit and icy demeanor an insurmountable wall. Every attempt was more vexing than the last, and you were growing more perturbed by the sight of them every day. It did, however, brighten your day a little, in some sick way, seeing their faces when you turned them down.

James was the first to try. Armed with his trademark confidence and lopsided grin, he cornered you outside the Potions classroom one afternoon, leaning casually against the doorframe.

“Hey angel,” he greeted, running a hand through his perpetually messy hair. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“We have class together, Potter,” you replied flatly, brushing past him and into the classroom.

Unbothered, he followed you, sliding into the seat next to yours despite the scowl you shot his way. “You know, I’ve been thinking…”

“That sounds dangerous.”

He laughed, undeterred by the jab you threw at him. “You’re funny. I like that. So, how about this—you, me, Remus, Sirius, a butterbeer in Hogsmeade this weekend?”

You didn’t even look up from your parchment. “I’d rather spend the weekend brewing Bubotuber pus.”

“Come on,” he said, leaning closer. “You’ll be missing out on the best date of your life.”

You leaned away automatically before finally meeting his gaze, your expression blank. “And you’ll be missing out on your dignity if you don’t leave me alone.”

James blinked, momentarily stunned, before letting out a bark of laughter. “Alright, angel. I like a challenge.”

“Good,” you said, turning back to your work. “Because you’re not getting anything else.”

He nodded with brows raised, “I’m aware.”

You spent the rest of class dodging his looks and ignoring his sickeningly sweet comments, gathering your books and hurrying out as soon as class was over, successfully avoiding any more hopeless persuading from James.

Sirius Black was the next to suffer. He prided himself on his charm. He’d never met a girl he couldn’t win over—until you.

It started in the library, where you were seated alone at a table, engrossed in a particularly dense-looking book. Sirius slid into the seat across from you, his signature smirk firmly in place.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he drawled, propping his chin on his hand.

You rolled your eyes internally and didn’t look up. “Black.”

“Studying hard, I see. Not that you need to. I bet you’re brilliant at everything.”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere,” you said, turning a page.

He grinned. “I’ve got other tricks up my sleeve.”

“I doubt that.”

His smirk faltered for a split second, but he recovered quickly. “Alright, love. What would it take to get you to have dinner with me?”

“An entirely different personality,” you said, still not looking up. You knew that statement was mostly true, or maybe, deep down, you were trying to convince yourself more than him.

He let out an exaggerated gasp. “You wound me.”

“Not yet,” you muttered, scribbling something in the margins of your book.

Sirius leaned back in his chair, clearly torn between frustration and amusement. “You’re playing hard to get.”

“No,” you said, finally meeting his eyes with a deadpan expression. “Try impossible.”

For once, Sirius had no response. He dragged in a breath, knowing he was losing momentum the longer he stayed silent. He sided with giving the table a quick tap as he got up and reluctantly walked away, mentally kicking himself for being off his game.

Remus Lupin was the final victim. He was subtler in his approach. He wasn’t one for grand gestures or flashy lines; instead, he opted for quiet conversation and shared study sessions. You were virtually looking over your shoulder every five seconds, knowing he would be trying his hand with you at some point. You avoided all three boys as much as you could, turning heel and leaving if you saw them coming your way in the corridor or entering the room you were in. Of course, your luck ran out.

He found you in the greenhouse one afternoon, tending to a particularly finicky Venomous Tentacula.

“Need a hand?” he offered, stepping carefully around the plant, his hands in his pockets.

You glanced at him, brow raised. “Not from you,” You paused, taking in the calm air around him, and against your better judgement, spoke again. “What would you know about Venomous Tentaculas?”

“Not much, but enough to know not to touch it,” he said with a small smile.

Your lips twitched, but you didn’t smile back. “I’m fine, thanks.”

He leaned against the workbench, watching you carefully prune the plant. “You’re good at this.”

“Obviously.” You kept an eye on him out of your peripherals, apprehensive, surprised he wasn’t trying to get in a spare word wherever he can, like James and Sirius did.

He chuckled softly. “I was being polite.”

“Well, don’t,” you said, setting down your shears and brushing dirt off your hands, turning to face him. “It’s unnecessary.”

Remus hesitated, then said, “You know, you don’t have to be so guarded all the time.”

Your eyes narrowed. “And you don’t have to waste your time trying to psychoanalyze me.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Yes, you were,” you scoffed, cutting him off. “And for the record, I don’t need your pity or your approval. So, if you’re done, I have actual work to do.”

Remus sighed, pushing off the workbench. “Alright, dove. I’ll leave you to it.”

And there’s another dreaded pet name. “Good idea.”

As he walked away, he glanced back over his shoulder. You were already focused on the plant again, seeming as if he hadn’t been there at all. When you heard the door shut behind Remus as he left, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. He was the most tolerable out of the three, giving you space when you asked for it, leaving when you wanted. He was calmer than the others, a quality you appreciated. You shake the thought out of your head and pick up the shears once more.

The boys reconvened in the Gryffindor common room that evening, nursing their bruised egos.

“She’s impossible,” James declared, flopping onto the couch.

“Completely heartless,” Sirius agreed, though his tone was more impressed than frustrated.

“I told you,” Remus said calmly, sipping his tea. “She’s not interested.”

James sat up, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Or maybe… she just doesn’t know us well enough yet.”

Sirius grinned. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Remus sighed. “This can’t possibly end well.”

But he didn’t stop them from planning their next move.

Within two weeks, their plan was in motion. The three boys were so dedicated that they spared time out of their precious weekend and stayed after Potions one day, ambushing Slughorn. Somehow, pretty easily in fact, they managed to convince him to make the four of you partners for the new project. Sirius put it under the guise of needing your “brilliant brain and knowledge” because he and James were “trying to be better students”. As if.

The next week, Slughorn announced the groups for the project. You sighed and narrowed your eyes at the three boys, knowing that somehow, this was their doing. If it was one thing, they were persistent. If only they put that effort into their schoolwork.You hoped you could just get this over with as soon as possible, you would even do all the work yourself to avoid being stuck in a room with them. You hurried out of class that day, annoyed. You shoved through the boys as they had tried to make their way to you as soon as you were dismissed.

You sat at your usual spot in the library, a fortress of books surrounding you, quill scratching furiously across parchment, trying to possibly finish the project without having any contact with the three menaces seated across the library. You could hear them whispering just a few tables away, their presence proving to be an irritating hum in the back of your mind. Sirius laughed, low and rich, and you refused to look up.

“Hey, angel,” James called, sliding into the seat across from you. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes and instead flipped the page of your textbook. “Since we’re all partners for the Potions project, we thought we’d… collaborate.”

“I don’t recall asking for collaboration,” you replied dryly, not sparing him a glance.

“That’s the thing about group projects,” Sirius chimed in, plopping into the chair beside you, a roguish grin plastered on his face. “It doesn’t require your approval.”

You raised a brow, scooting your chair away from him slightly. “I didn’t realize Gryffindors believed in forcing unwilling participants into things. Aren’t you supposed to be noble or something?”

Remus, the most tolerable of the trio, slid into the seat on your other side, carrying a stack of books. “You’re right, dove,” he said smoothly, voice calm and measured. “But unfortunately for you, Slughorn paired us up.”

Your jaw clenched. Sluggy and his infuriating belief in “Inter-House unity.”

“Fine,” you said sharply. “But don’t expect me to do all the work while you three mess around.” In truth, you were happy to do all the work if it meant you could escape this conversation.

“We wouldn’t dream of it,” James said, eyes sparkling behind his glasses.

The next evening, you found yourself in the Gryffindor dormitory, an unfamiliar space that smelled of old parchment, broom polish, faintly of Sirius’ cologne, and something you can only describe as teenage boys. You had practically begged to meet anywhere else, their dormitory being the last place you wanted to end up. Coincidentally, every option you came up with seemed to be taken. Your dorm-mates were using your dorm for their own projects, and were firm on their stance of “no boys, especially not those ones.” The library had a suspiciously timed incident of smoke bombs exploding, and all the students had to vacate until it was aired out. It had Marauders written all over it. Your house-mates would rather die than have three Gryffindors in their common room, so you didn’t even suggest it. As a last resort, you tried to coax them into working in their common room, but, once again, the answer was no. The rest of their in-house friend group decided to work right in front of the fireplace. The girl who introduced herself as Marlene definitely had a glint in her eyes, as if she was in on it. You just couldn’t win.

Reluctantly, you followed them up the stairs to work in their dorm. The room was, oddly enough, exactly what you expected. The space that was tidy with stacks of books on the floor next to the bed had to belong to Remus. Fitting. James’ and Sirius’ beds seemed to blend together, the only telling factors being the Quidditch posters by James’ bed and the record player and band posters by Sirius’. Also fitting. You knew most of the bands on Sirius’ posters. Surprised, you shook your head slightly. You couldn’t have anything in common with these boys, could you? The fourth bed, which you learned belonged to Peter, one of the boys in the group holed up in the common room, was a mix of tidy and messy, with a half-played game of chess sitting on the blanket.

There were clothes strewn on the floor between James’ and Sirius’ beds, both of the boys scrambling to pick them up and throw them out of sight as you walked in. They looked at you like they hoped you hadn’t seen it. You had. Remus scoffed a chuckle, which you somewhat appreciated, but didn’t let it show.

Now here you were, perched awkwardly on the edge of Remus’ bed, the cleanest place in the room, with your arms crossed, as the boys arranged their notes across the floor. The Gryffindor dormitory felt strangely foreign to you, with its warm tones and cozy chaos. It was nothing like the pristine coldness of the Slytherin common room, where everything was sharp edges and muted colors. Here, the atmosphere was alive, buzzing with an energy you couldn’t entirely place—and didn’t trust.

“So,” Sirius began, lounging on a pillow in his usual carefree manner, “any brilliant ideas, gorgeous?”

“I have several,” you replied, not acknowledging the irksome pet name, “but I doubt you’d appreciate the brilliance.”

James smirked. “Why so cold, angel? We’re charming, aren’t we?”

You snorted. “You’re persistent. That’s not the same thing.”

Sirius grinned, leaning forward. “I bet we’ll grow on you.”

You ignored him, focusing instead on the pile of notes on the bed in front of you. That was, until Sirius got up and began rifling through a stack of records near his bed. You rolled your eyes.

This was supposed to be about the project.

At least, that’s what you told yourself when you agreed to meet them here instead of putting your foot down and insisting on the library or another neutral space, or perhaps even working together on another day entirely. But you weren't naive—you knew better. The Marauders had been relentless in their attempts to worm their way into your life, and you had been equally relentless in shutting them down.

“You know,” James said, glancing up from his notes with an infuriating grin, “it’s not every day we let a Slytherin into our sacred quarters.”

Sirius spoke over his shoulder as he searched through the records. “Even Regulus hasn’t seen it.” You glance at Remus as he tries to catch your attention.

He mouthed, “His brother.” to you. You roll your eyes and mouth back, “I know that. House-mates, remember?”

James responded to Sirius aloud, “...Right, yeah.” You narrowed your eyes slightly, knowing his response was suspicious, but not pushing further. None of your business.

“Oh, I’m honored,” you replied to James’ initial comment, deadpanned.

Remus shot James a look. “Don’t mind him. He’s been insufferable since he got that Outstanding in Charms.”

“Not insufferable,” James protested, recovering and tossing a quill at Remus. “Confident.”

“Arrogant.” You corrected without missing a beat.

James clutched his chest as if you’d wounded him. “You wound me, love.”

“No,” you said, inspecting your nails. “But I’m considering it.”

From the corner of the room, Sirius laughed, his voice rich and warm. “I like her. She’s got bite.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Black?,” you muttered, side-eyeing him as he turned around with a record in hand. You immediately kicked yourself mentally for saying something that could be misconstrued as flirting.

Sirius’ eyes lit up. “In fact I would, doll. You offering?” Sirius said, flashing you a grin. You rolled your eyes, your silence being response enough. He took the record out of its sleeve.

“What are you doing?” you asked, brow furrowing.

“Setting the mood,” he said with a wink, sliding the record onto the turntable. Moments later, the opening notes of a familiar song filled the room. The unmistakable opening notes of Under Pressure by Queen and David Bowie graced your ears.

Your quill paused mid-sentence.

You didn’t mean to react, but the music stirred something in you—an instinctive recognition, a fondness you couldn’t quite mask. Maybe you could have something in common with them after all. Your lips twitched, just barely, and though you fought to remain impassive, your lips began to move slightly to mouth the words of the song. Anyone looking would probably just assume you were just talking to yourself to figure out your assignment. Unfortunately, you had no such luck.

Remus was watching you from his place on the floor, leaning against Sirius’ bed. A small smirk formed on his face as you continued reading a Potions book, still mouthing the words to the song. He scoffed a small chuckle and shook his head, not having expected you, of all people, to listen to Queen or Bowie.

The small noise caught Sirius’ attention and his eyes flicked to Remus. He followed his gaze to you, and he caught it immediately. His dark eyes lit up like fireworks. “Wait a minute.”

You looked at him sharply. “What?”

“You like Queen,” he said, his voice brimming with something close to awe.

“It’s just a song,” you replied, tone clipped, feigning indifference, but the words didn’t carry much weight.

James and Remus exchanged a glance, both clearly intrigued.

“Oh, no, no, no,” Sirius said, practically bounding over to you, his excitement spilling over. “This isn’t ‘just a song.’ This is Queen. This is brilliance. This is art. And you, my darling—” he pointed at you dramatically, “—you know it.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could, Sirius flopped onto the bed beside you, far too close for comfort. Remus chided him for messing up his blanket, a scold he hadn’t extended to you when you sat down. You leaned away from Sirius slightly, but made no effort to actually move.

“Admit it,” he said, leaning in with a conspiratorial grin. “You’ve got good taste.”

Your lips twitched again, and this time you couldn’t quite stop the ghost of a smile from appearing. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re avoiding the question,” he shot back, his grin widening.

“It’s just a song,” you said stiffly, though your body language had betrayed you.

“No, no, this is monumental,” Sirius declared, rolling dramatically onto his side and throwing his arms in the air. “I knew you had taste!”

Remus took this as an opportunity to chime in. “Queen’s one of his favorite bands.”

“They’re the best band,” Sirius corrected. “And now I know you have some semblance of a soul.”

You rolled your eyes, but didn’t pull away when Sirius leaned closer, his energy almost contagious. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Black,” you said, but your lips twitched upward ever so slightly.

James, not one to miss an opportunity, tossed you another question. “Alright, love. What’s your favorite Queen song?”

You gave him a deadpan look. “I’m not playing your little games, Potter.”

“Fine.” he looked away for a moment, before turning back with a hopeful smile. “Queen or Bowie?”

Remus, ever the observant one, chimed in gently after a moment. “It’s alright, you know. You can like Queen and still pretend you don’t tolerate us.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t deny it. The music played on, filling the room with its familiar rhythm, and for the first time that evening, for the first time with them, you felt yourself softening—just a fraction.

You hesitated, eyes flickering to Sirius, whose expression was a mix of hope and anticipation. He was grinning like he’d just won the Quidditch Cup. You scoff in resignation. “...Both. But I’m partial to Queen.”

Sirius let out a triumphant laugh, throwing his arms into the air. “I fucking knew it! She’s got taste!”

“Congratulations,” you said dryly. “You’ve discovered that I enjoy good music. What a revelation.”

“It is,” Sirius insisted, still grinning. “You’ve officially earned a pass in my book.”

You raised an eyebrow. “A pass for what?”

“For being tolerable,” he said jokingly, as if it were obvious.

“Oh, how generous of you.”

Remus chuckled softly. “You’ll have to forgive him, dove. He doesn’t know how to behave like a normal person.”

“I can see that.” You snickered dryly, appreciating the semblance of alliance you seemed to have formed with Remus.

Sirius leaned back on his elbows, watching you with an expression that was almost smug. “See, gorgeous? You’ve got more in common with us than you think.”

“Now I wouldn’t go that far,” you shot back, though the edge in your voice was noticeably duller. Sirius looked back at you deadpanned, but that smirk seemed to be glued to his face.

“Fine,” you muttered. “I like Queen. Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” Sirius said, beaming.

For the first time, you didn’t feel entirely out of place with them.

James, sensing the shift, tossed you a chocolate frog from his nightstand. “You’ve somehow found common ground with Sirius. That means you’re officially one of us now.”

You caught it, unwrapping it slowly. You raised your brows at him. “One of you? A kind offer, but no.”

Sirius threw an arm around your shoulders, grinning like a madman. The contact was uncomfortable, but you made no effort to pull away completely. Remus chimed in this time. “Sirius is the most judgemental out of all of us. You get in with him? You passed.” He shrugged at you as if his statement was absolute.

James leaned forward with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You know, angel, we might just have to keep you around.”

You scoffed. “Please don’t.”

“Too late,” Sirius said, his grin practically splitting his face. “You’re one of us now, whether you like it or not.” He leaned towards you and placed a dramatic kiss on your cheek. This time, you leaned away, furrowing your brows at him, wiping your face with your hand.

“Watch yourself, Black. You want to keep those lips? Keep them off me.” You shot at him.

Sirius gave you the infuriatingly enticing smirk that seems to be consistently plastered to his face. “Whatever you say, doll. But soon enough, you’ll be begging for our lips on you,” He shot a wink at you.

You rolled your eyes in response, popping the chocolate frog into your mouth. You glance at the other two boys, who seem to agree with Sirius. “In your dreams, Black.”

Sirius got up from the bed, scurrying to his corner, “Oh, believe me, we see you plenty in our dreams, gorgeous.”

For the first time, you don’t have a response.

Before you could wallow in the feeling of being speechless, Sirius came back with a thick stack of records and tossed them down on the bed next to you, earning him another scold from Remus about getting floor germs on his bed. You chuckle and share a look with him, shaking your head at Sirius’ antics. Sirius began to shuffle through his albums, questioning you about every band he knew of, as he tried to find another similarity between you. James chimed in every so often, commenting on one of the few bands or songs he knew of, only to get brushed off by Sirius as he was awaiting your input. Remus looked on from the floor, periodically trying to continue to work on the project. After a while, all of your schoolwork layed forgotten on the floor. As the music played on and the boys pulled you into their banter, you found yourself relaxing—just a little. Maybe they weren’t as insufferable as you thought.

Not that you’d ever admit it.

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