#they don’t care what you think. they wouldn’t want to be your friend or even like you in real life. find an actual productive hobby in life

[izumkay]

♡TANTRUMS♡

♡Synopsis♡- When Satoru returns home with your five-year-old daughter, she excitedly shares her day—only to drop an unexpected request. Seeing her friends with their little siblings, she decides she wants one too. Now, with wide, innocent eyes, she turns to you and Satoru, waiting for an answer neither of you were prepared for.

The moment Satoru steps inside, your five-year-old daughter clings to his leg, her face scrunched in deep contemplation. You barely get a chance to greet them before she stomps over, crossing her arms.

"Mommy," she starts, her tiny voice laced with determination. "I need a baby."

You blink. "A... baby?"

"Yes!" she whines, flopping onto the couch dramatically. "All my friends have little brothers or sisters! Hana, Yuto, even that meanie Reira! But me? I have nobody! It’s not fair!"

Satoru, unhelpfully, clicks his tongue. "Tough luck, huh? Must be lonely."

You shoot him a look, but he only shrugs, smirking. Meanwhile, your daughter sits up, her big, watery eyes locking onto you like a weapon. "Please? I’ll take care of them, I promise! I’ll share my toys and— and even let them play with my dolls!"

You sigh, kneeling beside her. "Sweetheart, having a baby isn’t that simple. It's a lot of responsibility."

"But I want one!" She throws herself back again, legs kicking against the cushions. "Daddy, tell Mommy!"

Satoru hums, rubbing his chin. "Well, love, if our little princess wants a sibling…" He turns to you, blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "Should we start working on it?"

You gape at him. "Satoru!"

"What?" He gestures at your daughter. "She has a solid argument. We should at least consider it."

Your daughter nods eagerly. "See?! Daddy agrees!"

You pinch the bridge of your nose. This was going to be a long night.

You inhale deeply, gathering every ounce of patience in your being. "Sweetheart," you try again, voice soft, "having a baby isn’t just about wanting one. Babies cry a lot, need a lot of care, and—"

"I love babies!" she interrupts, sitting up on her knees. "I want to take care of one! I can do it, I promise!"

Satoru, the enabler, nods solemnly beside her. "She’s got a point. She’s very responsible."

You deadpan. "She once put her cereal bowl in the fridge because she thought it would turn into ice cream."

"Creative thinking," Satoru counters, completely unfazed.

Your daughter gasps, flailing dramatically. "Mommy, pleaseee!" Her tiny hands clutch at your arm, eyes glassy and pleading. "I’ll be the best big sister in the whole world! I'll teach them how to color and— and— I won’t even get mad if they mess up my toys!"

You raise a brow. "Really? You cried for an hour when your teddy bear fell on the floor."

She pouts, crossing her arms. "That was different."

Satoru leans back, arm draped over the couch as he watches, far too entertained. "Sounds like she’s pretty serious about this," he muses, grinning. Then, in a stage whisper, he adds, "And between us, I wouldn’t mind trying for another one…"

Your entire face heats up. "Satoru!"

"What?" He feigns innocence, winking at your daughter. "Mommy’s just shy. But don’t worry, princess, I’ll convince her."

Your daughter claps excitedly. "Yay! Daddy's the best!"

Oh, this was a conspiracy.

Satoru stretches, turning to you with a lazy grin. "So, sweetheart, what do you say? Want to give our little princess a teammate?"

You exhale slowly, pinching the bridge of your nose as your daughter bounces beside you, eyes wide with hope.

This was going to be an extremely long night.

You sigh, shaking your head as your daughter clings to your arm, eyes still wide with expectation. Satoru chuckles beside you, his amusement evident, but as you glance at him, his expression softens.

“Sweetheart,” you start gently, brushing a stray hair from your daughter’s face, “having a baby isn’t just about playing together. It’s a big responsibility, and Mommy and Daddy have to be ready too.”

Her lower lip trembles. “But I am ready…” she mumbles.

Satoru reaches over, ruffling her hair with a small smile. “You’d be the best big sister, no doubt about that,” he murmurs. “But sometimes, these things take time.”

She huffs, puffing her cheeks. “I don’t like waiting.”

Satoru gasps dramatically. “What?! My daughter—impatient? Impossible!” He tickles her side, making her giggle despite herself. “Wherever did you get that from?”

You shoot him a look. “Definitely not from me.”

He winks, but then his fingers find yours, giving them a reassuring squeeze. When you turn to him, he’s not teasing anymore—his gaze is steady, warm, and understanding.

“Hey,” he murmurs so only you can hear. “No pressure, alright? This is your choice too. If you’re not ready, that’s okay.”

Your heart melts at his sincerity.

You exhale, squeezing his hand back. “I know.”

Your daughter watches the silent exchange, then sighs dramatically before crawling into your lap, small arms wrapping around you. “Okay… but if I have to wait, can I at least have ice cream?”

Satoru gasps, pressing a hand to his chest. “A genius bargain! Negotiation skills on point!”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help but smile. “Fine. But only one scoop.”

Your daughter squeals in victory, and Satoru beams. “Guess it’s a win for everyone, huh?”

As he presses a kiss to your temple, his touch lingering just a little longer, you realize—no matter what the future holds, you’d never have to face it alone♡

A/N -I hope you liked this cute lil drabble that had been on my mind for a while🤭♡

—Check out my Masterlist for more!

Divider credit!- @cafekitsune

[littlelamy]

hey bby can u please write rafe x fem pogue where sarah drags the pogues to one of topper's parties on figure eight and jj leaves reader alone for a few minutes and when he comes back reader is with rafe even though she knows she shouldn't be with him. got inspo from rihanna's song: don't stop the music <3 ily ily

sarah drags you to the party, her hand wrapped around your wrist, her excitement buzzing through the humid summer air. you don’t want to be here—figure eight parties always feel like walking into enemy territory, like stepping into a world that doesn’t want you in it. but sarah’s your best friend, and jj promised he’d stick by your side.

except jj’s gone, lost somewhere in the sea of drunken kooks, leaving you alone with a red cup in your hand and bass pounding through your chest. you try to blend in, try to ignore the sharp stares from girls in designer dresses and guys who wouldn’t look twice at you on any other day.

then you feel it. a gaze, heavy and unwavering.

you turn your head and there he is—rafe cameron, leaning against the wall like he owns the place. maybe he does. button-down unbuttoned just enough to show the cut of his collarbone, a drink dangling from his fingers, blue eyes locked onto you like he’s been waiting for you to notice him.

and fuck, do you notice him.

he smirks, and you know you should look away, should walk in the opposite direction. you shouldn’t let your feet carry you toward him, but they do. you shouldn’t let your fingers brush his when he takes your cup and replaces it with his own, but you do. (please don’t take random drinks from people) you shouldn’t let him murmur in your ear, voice thick like honey and just as intoxicating.

"you shouldn’t be here," he says, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

"and you shouldn’t be talking to me," you shoot back, lifting the cup to your lips. whiskey, smooth and expensive.

he chuckles, watching you like you’re the most interesting thing at this party. "where’s maybank? figured he wouldn’t let you out of his sight."

"he’s around," you answer, but you don’t really care where jj is. not right now. not with the way rafe is looking at you, like he wants to ruin you in the best way possible.

he steps closer, tilting his head, his lips dangerously close to your ear. "you know, you act like you don’t want me, but you haven’t moved away once."

you roll your eyes, but he catches the way your breath hitches. "maybe I just like messing with you."

he smirks. "careful, sweetheart. i don’t mind playing games, but i always win."

one song bleeds into another, the beat thick and pulsing. rafe takes your hand, and you let him. he pulls you onto the dance floor, hands settling on your hips, pressing close, closer, until there’s no space between you. he moves like he owns you, like he’s already memorized every curve, every reaction.

"you feel fucking perfect against me," he murmurs, his lips brushing your jaw, his hands sliding lower, guiding your hips to move against him. "wonder how much better you’d feel without all these people watching."

his fingers press into your waist, controlling your movements as you grind against him, the heat between you making it impossible to think straight. his breath is hot against your ear as he leans in, voice dripping with amusement. "you gonna let me keep you company tonight, or are you just here to wind me up?"

his teeth graze your skin, just enough to send a shiver down your spine as you move on him, a little closer each time. "fuck, you keep moving like that, and i won’t be responsible for what happens next."

his breath ghosts over your neck. "this is a bad idea."

"the worst," you agree, pressing back against him deliberately, feeling the sharp inhale he takes. but you don’t stop.

he groans low in his throat, grip tightening. "yeah, but bad ideas are always the most fun. and fuck, do you feel fun."

jj finds you minutes later, face twisted with something between betrayal and disappointment, but you don’t let go of rafe’s hand. you know you should. you know you shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t want this.

but you do.

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @rafesbabygirlx @drewsephrry

[canideformed]

Trans men do not have male privilege because you cannot separate their trans identity from their male identity.

People love to say, “but they’re men and men are privileged!” as if you can just. Pretend they’re not also trans. Or they say that it doesn’t matter that they’re trans if they pass because people will just see them as men.

Just. Think it through. Think about what happens when the experiences of trans and cis men are compared at any systemic level.

1. A cis woman says that a cis man sexually assaulted her. The woman is told she is probably dramatic by the cops and the cis man isn’t impacted because all his friends are misogynists. People talk about how boys will be boys and how it wasn’t his fault, women wouldn’t understand men’s’ sex drives.

2. A cis woman outs a trans man and says he sexually assaulted her. The trans man is arrested and jailed (keeping in mind you can be arrested with no proof, only reasonable suspicion—such as an allegation) by cops who openly watch him pee because they wanted to get a look at a pussy on a man. He gets out and his friends hear through the grapevine that he’s trans. They laugh at and grope him the next time they see him and they ostracise him. People talk about how testosterone is such an evil chemical and how the trans guy is dangerous because he has a “female brain running on toxic male hormones.”

For another comparison—

1. A cis man goes in for a routine sexual health checkup—a prostate exam. It is quick, though awkward and uncomfortable. He later begins to feel ill. He sees a doctor who takes his symptoms seriously and treats him appropriately.

2. A trans man goes in for a routine sexual health checkup—a pap smear. He is stared at in the waiting room. The nurse calls “Ms.__” and is visibly confused when he stands up. The doctor isn’t educated on trans bodies and doesn’t use enough lube (or simply doesn’t care to) and it hurts. The doctor asks invasive questions about bottom growth and ignores the guys’ preferred terminology for his parts and his identity. The guy files an insurance claim that is denied because his legal gender is M. He has to either pay or try to deal with the company. He begins to feel ill. He sees a doctor who sees that he’s trans in his chart or spots the testosterone prescription or an old or legal name. The doctor tells him it’s probably the T without doing a proper exam and that T is dangerous for “females” and he should consider stopping.

Male privilege is systemic. It’s not just who the waiter looks at first when they take a dinner order. It’s men being protected by the system by other men in power. Trans men do not have that protection. The second a transphobe thinks a criminal might have been a trans man they start talking about how it was because his mind couldn’t handle the testosterone. (Remember when there was a rumour that a school shooter was transmasc?). They worry about him “tainting” cis women. Because he is trans, it means that people don’t even see him as man enough to be protected by the system. It is because he is a trans man and trans manhood is not respected as Real by the cistem.

Part of male privilege is having your voice believed and your autonomy respected. But trans men are told their pain isn’t real, that they’re being dramatic, that it’s their period or the T. Trans men are at risk for sexual abuse and fetishisation by cis people who might use a medical exam as an excuse to hurt or assault them. Trans men are not seen as a possible type of man, so insurance systems auto-deny sexual healthcare for trans men because “men can’t have that issue.” Part of male privilege is having your voice centred, and yet many conversations about abortion and access to birth control actively exclude trans men, because trans men are held personally accountable for the pregnancy, even when it’s rape. Cis men don’t experience anything like that.

And sure! The situations I laid out above don’t describe ALL trans men. But they also don’t describe ALL cis men or ALL cis women. The difference between cis men and trans men is that trans men, along with other gender minorities and cis women, are specifically targeted by oppressive patriarchal systems by virtue of both their trans and male identities.

It breaks my heart to see people tell trans men to ‘take accountability’ for their privilege when I hear all the time about trans men who are in jail for killing the person who was raping them, about trans men who were abused by police, about trans men who were tortured and murdered.

[oysternymph]

Vil x reader

‘How to amuse a queen’

Notes: Yuu is gender neutral and as such they/them pronouns are used, not beta read, fluff, slightly ooc. He/him pronouns are used for Vil. This is an older fic that I’m reposting for my twst x reader series, I hope it’s enjoyed!

Wc: 1,420

Vil seemed to take an interest in a lot of things. Makeup and fashion were always the first to come to mind. Aside from him being the spokesperson for multiple famous brands, he was always giving people advice on how to look like their best self, regardless if they asked for it or not. He also was very passionate about music and dance, being trained in ballroom dancing from the moment he could walk and always sharing whatever new artist he was into with his friends.

Another thing Vil adored was film, regardless if it was making his own, starring in a film, or simply watching them. According to Rook, his dearest house-warden was simply appalled when he arrived at Night Raven College and saw that there wasn’t a film club. The first thing he did on campus was establish one. Oftentimes, Yuu was dragged along or asked to help out with the club. Though, they didn’t seem to mind; even if Vil was a perfectionist, any time spent with him was well spent.

Once a week, the club would vote on a movie to watch and then they’d watch it on the weekend while working on props. While not a club member, Yuu joined the club every weekend unless they were studying. And due to being around the house-warden, Yuu noticed something: they had never seen Vil laugh. Not even once. Occasionally, his lips would curve up into a gentle smile, but nothing more. He didn’t even laugh during comedy movies, perhaps they weren’t his style of humor but they had even seen Leona and Malleus laugh before. And yet, they couldn’t ever recall Vil laughing.

While Yuu tried their best not to dwell on it, they couldn’t help but think about how Vil’s laugh would sound. Perhaps he didn’t laugh because his laugh was ugly? Everything about Vil was perfect, if he had one flaw, aside from his jealousy, it might be his laugh! After all, for example, Sebek tried not to laugh often due to him having a snorting laugh. Maybe Vil’s was similar?

Despite that thought, it seemed unlikely. Vil wouldn’t hide his laugh even if it wasn’t a pleasant sound. Maybe he just didn’t find a lot of things funny. But even if that was the case, Yuu couldn’t understand how he didn’t even laugh during the most crazy scenarios.

Today, Yuu was on their way to Pomefiore as they had asked Vil for help with potionology. But the real reason for their visit was to make Vil laugh. For starters, they had asked Lilia to help them get a goofy outfit. They were wearing bunny slippers, nerd glasses, sweatpants and a top that had a terrible cat pun. This would easily make anyone laugh, or at least hold back a chuckle. It had to pull some sort of reaction out of Vil! As they finally entered the dorm and entered their lounge room, they saw Vil sitting on his throne as usual, reading one of his many fashion magazines.

“Hi, Vil.”

“Ah good, you’re here just on time-WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?!”

Vil dropped his magazine, rushing over to the shorter student as he took the glasses off of their face and looked them up and down with a displeased expression.

“Oh uh…I just thought I should dress comfortably if we’re studying.”

“This isn’t comfortable. This is a fashion disaster. Do you even need glasses?”

“Nope, but they make me look smarter.”

“Who even told you such a lie?”

Before Yuu could answer, Vil took hold of their wrist and dragged them to his room.

“I don’t care if you want to be comfortable, you could still put effort into your appearance!” the taller man shouted as he dug through his closet, pulling out a cropped purple shirt and a pair of flared leggings, and holding them out to the fellow junior.

“Here. Get dressed in this then we can start your studies.”

Yuu sighed as the house-warden left. Plan number one was a complete bust, but that was okay. Yuu was in this for the long haul. They had plenty of tricks up their sleeve. Once they were dressed in Vil’s clothes, the student decided to look around his room for a moment, after all it wasn’t every day Vil allowed someone into his bedroom. As expected, his room was stylish and grand, fit for a queen one could say.

Yuu walked over to his vanity, gently picking up one of the many skincare bottles on the table. A rice water toner…made by Vil Schoenheit. Was this the product Yuu wanted to ask for another bottle of? At the moment, they just couldn’t remember. Their train of thought was quickly cut off as Vil opened the door, sighing as he saw the student was distracted.

“Yuu, what in sevens name are you doing?”

“Just looking through your stuff.”

“And why would you be doing that? We need to study.”

“...Vil, can you do my makeup?”

The queen raised his eyebrow, walking over to the student and placing a hand on their shoulder.

“Why? You never seemed all that interested in this kind of thing before.”

“Mmm…I was just thinking. Makeup is usually used to change features, but it can be used to enhance existing features as well, right? I wanna try that style of makeup.”

Yuu was slightly taken aback when Vil walked away and into his bathroom, only to return with multiple different makeup products and all sorts of odd tools. Without saying another word, Vil began to apply some sort of sticky serum onto Yuu’s face, causing them to wince slightly.

“It’s just primer, calm down. It helps to make foundation and concealer smoother to apply.”

“Okay…”

For the most part, the sensation of having a handsome man grabbing at your face while he applied makeup was pleasant. Even when Vil would click his tongue in slight annoyance when Yuu’s eyes would flutter at the touch of a brush, he simply continued onward.

That was, until it was time to apply blush. Vil gently swiped some powdered blush onto a large brush, and then began to blend it onto Yuu’s skin. only to stop when he heard soft giggling come from the shorter student.

“What’s wrong?”

“It tickles! Is it supposed to feel like that?”

“No, but it isn’t uncommon. Rook said the same thing the first time I did his makeup. You’ll get used to it. Now hold still.”

Despite their best efforts, Yuu just couldn’t seem to do as Vil commanded. Giggling and moving slightly every time the house warden ghosted the brush over their face.

“Just stay still! How hard of a request is that? I’m going to get blush all over your face if you keep this up!”

“It’s not easy! I’m trying! I mean, how would you feel if someone was doing this to you?”

“I’ve never been ticklish, especially not my face.”

“...So you’re not ticklish?”

Vil slowly put down the makeup brush, taking a step away from Yuu as they stared at him with a mischievous grin. The magicless student stood up, quickly rushing at Vil who in turn tried to run away. But it was too late, Yuu managed to grab Vil’s arm and pulled him close, ticking his neck and stomach.

Vil gritted his teeth, trying his hardest to pull away from the shorter student. Vil was one of the strongest people at Night Raven College, if he wasn’t being so viciously attacked he could have easily pulled away, but instead he was trapped. Not being able to hold it in any longer, Vil let out a loud sound.

“Gwahahahahaha! Stop it! I’m telling you to stop!!!”

With a satisfied grin, Yuu let go of the housewarden, who instantly began to catch his breath.

“W-Why did you do that?!”

“I mean you kinda set yourself up for that. And I wanted to hear your laugh. Even your laugh is queenly.”

With a flushed face, Vil placed both of his hands on Yuu’s shoulders, staring down at the student before suddenly ticking them back.

“HAHAHAHAHAHA!”

“See?! It’s not so fun when you’re on the receiving end!”

As soon as Vil stopped tickling Yuu, the student leaned onto him, still laughing as they came down from their high. Vil didn’t push them off, letting them rest on him instead. Once Yuu had calmed down, Vil gently entwined their hands, looking away from the student as he spoke.

“We…should start your studies. Come along now.”

“Hehe…Okay.”

[causeimhappinesss]

Rome's Devotion (part 11)

Warnings: Emperors Geta & Caracalla are warnings themselves, (slight?) blasphemy, slight non-con/dub-con, misogyny (Ancient Rome, so…)

Pairing: Geta x Christian!reader x Caracalla

Words: 5k

Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language (I’m french), so you can correct me if you spot some mistakes :)

Masterlist

-

The absence of the Emperors unsettles me. Days pass without summons, without a mere glance, and an odd hollowness settles in my chest. I tell myself it is relief, that I should be grateful for the silence, but the longer it lasts, the more I find myself listening for footsteps, waiting for a call that does not come. It is absurd. I should not crave their attention. And yet, I do.

Claudia’s hands work through my hair, twisting the strands into an elegant style as I meet her gaze in the polished bronze mirror.

“You’re quiet today.” she remarks. “Something troubles you. Am I wrong?”

I hesitate, unsure how much to reveal, but the weight in my chest urges me to speak.

“It’s strange, I haven’t seen them in days, and I… I think I miss it.” I admit.

I shake my head quickly, frowning.

“No, that’s not right. I don’t miss them. I miss…”

“The attention. You miss their attention.” Claudia finishes for me, her voice gentle but knowing. “It makes sense. You’re used to being watched, spoken to, admired.”

She fastens a golden pin into my hair, gentle in her touch, as always.

“You enjoy feeling special. Who wouldn’t? Look at your old life.”

The words make my stomach twist. I don’t want to be this kind of person, one who craves their notice, their approval. I turn to her, my voice quieter now.

“What if it becomes more than that?”

My fingers grip the edge of the dressing table, while I frowned, knowing where it’s going.

“What if I start to… care?”

When I turn towards my friend, her gaze softens, but she doesn’t look surprised at all. She licks her lips and crosses her arms.

“You know what kind of men they are.”

“Yes. That’s what frightens me.”

As my throat tightens, Claudia steps closer, taking my hands in hers.

“Then hold on to that fear. Don’t let yourself forget, nor don’t punish yourself for enjoying their attention, either. It is natural.”

A small smile tugs at her lips.

“You are human, not made of stone.”

I exhale, nodding, even as uncertainty clings to me. A sharp knock at the door startles me. The guards wait outside, their faces impassive as they prepare to escort me to Senator Thraex’s gathering. I step into my sandals, adjusting the drape of my gown before following them out, leaving my dear friend to rest for today.

Soon, outside, the streets hum with the anticipation of celebration. Whispers ripple through the crowd, growing louder with each passing moment. The air thickens with the scent of roasting meat and spiced wine, while flickering torches cast restless shadows on the walls of the grand domus ahead. Laughter swells, the voices of Rome’s elite mingling beneath gilded ceilings. Perfumed oil lingers in the air as servants weave between guests, offering cups of honeyed wine.

General Acacius is about to arrive from his conquest of Numidia, as he promised to the Emperors.

His procession will clog the streets, the people pressing forward in waves, hands reaching, voices crying his name. The victorious conqueror of Numidia will at the head, his armor gleaming under the torchlight. Banners will ripple above him, the emblem of Rome stark against deep crimson.

Today, Rome belongs to its conqueror.

For now, I’m expected at Senator Thraex’s place.

*

The domus hums with energy, a restless beast of silk-draped nobles and golden goblets brimming with wine. The scent of meat, fish, citrus and spiced honey cakes mingles with the heavier perfume of burning myrrh, thick and cloying. Laughter swells and fades, conversations slipping like serpents through the air. As expected, I stand beside Senator Aurelius, my cup untouched in my hand, the rim cool against my fingers. He says nothing, but his presence steadies me. Today, he’s my shield in this gathering, his quiet authority a buffer against the weight of expectation. Then, Caracalla’s voice cuts through the chatter, talking to a tall dark skinned man, the one who interrupted me with Caracalla in Palatin Hill’s corridors.

“Macrinus!”

The room shifts, space clearing as the nobles turn toward the center. My stomach tightens. I already know what’s coming.

“SWORDS! We want swords! Fight to death.” He exclaimed, gently slapping a male concubine’s cheek at his side.

Soon, two men step forward. One is young, wiry but strong, his muscles defined by hunger and battle. His gaze is sharp, calculating. His opponent is older, broader, his scars showing his terrible life. Obviously, one of them will not leave this room alive. Aurelius exhales, slow and measured, but says nothing. Neither do I. I let my gaze drift, seeking anything else, anything to ground me against the inevitable. My breath catches when I see her.

A female concubine, half-draped in raspberry silk, more skin than fabric, leans into Geta. Her delicate fingers trace idle patterns across his shoulder, then to his chest, her lips close enough to whisper against his ear. He doesn’t move away. Heat flares beneath my skin, cold and furious, my pulse a deafening drum. It is absurd to feel this way. Foolish. I know what kind of men they are. I know what power affords them. And yet…

Geta’s gaze lifts, locking onto mine.

A slow, deliberate moment stretches between us. His lips curl, not in a smile, not quite. It is something else. Satisfaction. As if he enjoys this. As if he wanted me to see.

For some reason, I don’t feel anger towards Caracalla’s whores, mostly males… Probably because our body are built so differently. I don’t know. Maybe, I’m stupid.

No, I’m actually stupid!

The roar of the crowd snaps my attention back to the fight. The younger man strikes, quick as a viper. His opponent falters, blood blooming in violent contrast against golden light and polished marble. A deep, wet gurgle follows. The older man stumbles, his hands clutching at the wound, fingers slipping through the crimson warmth of his own life spilling away.

Then, he falls.

A heartbeat of silence.

Laughter. Applause. The weight of Rome’s finest reveling in death.

Caracalla grins, teeth flashing as he lifts his goblet.

“A fine performance.” I hear him muttering to his concubine.

Coins exchange hands, voices rising in excitement as the victor stands, chest heaving, victorious but hollow-eyed. Geta seems entranced by what happened, so proud and excited, while I can’t stay here. My pulse hammers against my ribs, pounds in my ears, in my throat. I take a step back, then another, slipping away on a balcony before anyone notices. Cool air greets me like a lover’s embrace, soothing the heat that coils in my chest. I exhale, pressing a hand to my sternum as if that alone might calm the storm inside me. The distant roar of celebration drifts through the open doorway, a ghostly echoes of everything I do not belong to, everything I should not want.

And yet, when I close my eyes, the only thing I see is them.

The cool night air soothes my skin, carrying with it the faint scent of cypress and distant myrrh. I draw in a deep breath, trying to steady the turmoil inside me. Laughter spills from the open doors behind me, thick with the haze of wine and indulgence, but I want none of it. The heat of the gathering, the heavy press of bodies, the metallic tang of blood in the air… All of this suffocates me. My fingers tighten around the balustrade, the stone cool beneath my touch. Below, Rome stretches under the sunset, in golden hues. The world is vast, yet here, within these walls, I feel trapped in a game I don’t understand and don’t want to play.

Footsteps approach, measured, unhurried. A presence I recognize before even turning.

Geta.

He steps into the moonlight, his expression relaxed, his gaze sharp with amusement. He carries two goblets, the deep red liquid swirling as he moves. The scent of the wine reaches me before he does, dark and rich.

“You always slip away when things get interesting.” He comments, holding one out to me.

I hesitate. Not because I fear the drink, but because I fear what his presence stirs in me. I take the goblet, the metal cool against my palm, and sip. The wine is smooth at first, then bold, laced with something that burns in my throat. He watches me, eyes gleaming.

“You’re quite beautiful when you’re jealous.”

My breath catches.

Jealous?

The word slams into me like a blow. I lower the cup, my fingers curling tightly around the stem.

“I don’t play your games, my Emperor.”

He tilts his head, studying me as if I am some riddle he enjoys unraveling.

“No?”

I swallow hard. The image of the concubine’s hand on him flashes behind my eyes, the way his lips had curved, not in protest, but in satisfaction. Heat rises to my cheeks, a mix of anger and something else, something I refuse to name.

I’m losing my mind…

“For once, I need to know what you and your brother are planning.” I say, forcing my voice steady.

His smile fades, just a fraction. Then, he steps closer, the scent of wine and warm skin brushing against me. His fingers trace my cheek, his touch as light as deliberate. A silent promise or a warning.

“Tonight… We will talk.” he murmurs.

I should push him away. Demand answers now. But I know better. His word is all I will get, and pressing further will only amuse him. Instead, he offers his arm, and I take it, allowing him to lead me back inside. Laughter and the clink of goblets echo through the large room, where my gaze lingers briefly on Caracalla, lounging with a lazy smirk, his concubines draped over him like silk.

“Ah…” Geta says, pulling me from my thoughts. “I believe you have yet to meet General Acacius before he leaves to join his dear wife.”

I turn around and look at the man, dressed in a beautiful attire for the occasion. Tall, broad-shouldered, his dark hair streaked with silver at the temples. His face is sharp, a history of war etched into his features. But his eyes, despite their deepness, are not as hard as I expect. There is steel, yes, but also something else. Something quiet. Something torn.

“Domina Aurelia.” he greets, his voice rough, edged with the authority of command. Yet, there is no arrogance in it.

I incline my head.

“General Acacius. Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” He answers with a warm voice.

He studies me as I study him, and for a moment, I wonder what battles weigh on his soul. I have met many warriors, men who kill without thought. He’s clearly not like them. There is something in his stance, the set of his mouth, that speaks of burdens too heavy to cast aside.

Geta looks at me closely, his smile unreadable.

I sip my wine to mask my thoughts.

Tonight, I will have answers. But for now, I watch. I listen. And I wait.

*

The ivory comb glides through my hair, each stroke smoothing away the weight of the day. The repetitive motion soothes me, lets me pretend, for a little while, that my world is simple. The scent of lavender oil lingers in the air, a gift from Claudia before she left, and I breathe it in deeply. The flickering glow of the oil lamps casts long, dancing shadows across the walls, wrapping the room in an illusion of warmth.

Unfortunately, my mind refuses to settle. It circles back to the evening, to the unspoken tensions lingering between the senators, the subtle glances exchanged over golden goblets, the weight of things I don’t fully understand. And to the terrible twins… Always to them. Their voices, their presence, the way they watch me as though I am something rare, while I was a mere servant. I’m not sure if I like it or if it terrifies me. A knock echoes through the bedroom, sharp and insistent. I barely have time to stand before the door swings open.

They don’t wait for permission to enter.

Geta steps in first, the fabric of his tunic catching in the dim light, his stride slow, deliberate. His lips curl in a small, knowing smile, as if he already finds my reaction amusing. Caracalla follows, his movements less measured, his gaze sweeping the room with the sharpness of a blade. I rise, because it is what is expected. No matter how much time I spend in their presence, no matter how often they claim to see me as something more, the balance of power is never forgotten.

They don’t wait for an invitation to sit.

They make themselves comfortable at the edge of my bed, unconcerned with the impropriety of it. Geta leans back slightly, hands resting on his thighs, his expression unreadable. Caracalla, by contrast, sprawls lazily, exuding the quiet confidence of a man who has never been denied anything he desires. My fingers tighten around the comb still clutched in my hand.

“My Emperors, what can I do for you?”

Geta’s gaze lingers on me before he speaks.

“Did you forget I agreed to speak with you tonight.”

I swallow. I have not forgotten.

Caracalla lets out a low chuckle, tilting his head toward his brother.

“Go on, brother. Give us one of your speeches. I know how you love to hear yourself talk.”

Geta ignores him, his focus solely on me.

“The Empire expands. Our reach stretches further than ever. Expectations grow with it.” He begins, his voice measured, calm.

Something in his tone unsettles me. I hold his gaze, searching for the meaning beneath the words.

“The Senate is growing restless. They demand action. Certain matters must be resolved. Certain… decisions must be made.”

My stomach tightens. His careful phrasing, the weight behind each syllable… Oh, I know what this is. A warning, a test, a game in which the rules are never made clear. Then, I cross my arms, keeping my voice steady.

“What matters?”

Caracalla exhales, shaking his head in amusement.

“She’s impatient, isn’t she?”

“She’s perceptive and I need her to listen.” Geta corrects, his tone softer now.

There is something almost fond in his gaze, something dangerous, which is the reason why I exhale slowly and focus on them, instead of my pulse.  

“I am listening, my Augustus.”

Geta leans forward, his posture relaxed, but there is something unyielding in the way he looks at me. The air around him feels heavier, weighted with something I can’t quite name. With the same ease that one might announce a change in the weather, he speaks:

“I intend to marry you.”

Everything inside me freezes.

The words strike like a whip, sharp and final. There is no softness in them, no hesitation. It isn’t a question. It isn’t even a conversation.

It’s a verdict.

A reality.

My reality.

The blood drains from my face so fast I feel lightheaded. My fingers curl into my tunic, gripping the fabric as if it might hold me steady.

“That’s why Aurelius adopted me… It wasn’t only for advantages.” I whisper.

My voice barely carries. It isn’t an accusation. It’s an awful realization, slipping past my lips before I can stop it. If Geta doesn’t answer, Caracalla scoffs. When I turn to him, there’s amusement curling at the edges of his mouth, dark and knowing.

“It was a convenient opportunity. Nothing more.”

I stare at him and his beautiful blue eyes, while my stomach twists. Suddenly, I press my hand to my forehead, feeling unsteady. The weight of what they are saying, what they have likely planned for longer than I care to imagine, sits heavy in my chest. All this time, I thought they were simply courting me, so I could sin with them. Caracalla chuckles, watching me like a cat might watch a bird fluttering too close to its claws. Before I can step away, Geta moves, jumping on his feet. Soon, his fingers brush beneath my chin, tilting it upward. The touch is deceptively gentle, but there is no gentleness in his intent. He forces me to meet his gaze, as my lips part. His eyes burn into mine, patient, waiting.

“Look at me, little lamb.” He mutters.

I do. I have no choice.

A war rages inside me, shock, anger, something else I cannot name. I swallow against the tightness in my throat.

“Caesar, I’m not Decima…” I whisper, my throat too tight.

Geta’s lips twitch, not in amusement, but in something quieter, something knowing.

“I am well aware, but you should be pleased by this news.”

Pleased.

The word tastes foreign. My heart slams against my ribs.

I force my lips into something resembling a smile. If I refuse him, I don’t know what will happen. If I show resistance, I don’t know how far he will go to break it. So I nod, just barely, enough for him to see. My eyes dart to Caracalla, who has been watching the entire exchange with quiet interest. His expression shifts, something calculating in his gaze.

“He can’t marry you.” Geta continues, his voice smooth, unhurried. “Caracalla is still bound to his wife.”

A flicker of irritation crosses Caracalla’s face. He shifts where he sits, rolling his shoulders as if the very mention of the woman’s existence is an inconvenience.

“That could have been dealt with!”

Cold rushes down my spine.

My breath catches. My hands clench at my sides.

“I don’t want another woman’s death on my conscience…”

I say before I can stop myself. The words feel raw, too real. A silence settles over the room, thick and weighted. Geta studies me with his warm brown chocolate, his expression unreadable. Then, he smiles. A genuine smile.

“You will be loyal to me, then.”

I lower my eyes, inhaling sharply.

“Of course, my Augustus.”

The word barely escapes, but it is enough. Geta’s expression softens, though there is victory in his gaze. But then…

“And to my brother.”

I go still.

The air turns to ice in my lungs.

I blink, trying to understand, trying to make sense of what he is saying.

I turn to Caracalla who’s watching me closely, his amusement now edged with something sharper. Obviously, this was never just about Geta, this was about both of them, as always.

I couldn’t expect less from these cruel men.

Polygamy… Not something legal in this Empire, even less in my religion. Would God forgive me for this? He must know I’m not one of his strongest soldiers… However, he chose this life for me… For some reason.

The room feels too tight, the walls too close. The air is thick, heavy with the weight of expectation. My fingers tremble slightly as I push a strand of hair behind my ear, trying to steady myself, but it’s impossible. It’s as though the tension in the air is suffocating, and I can’t seem to escape it. I stand still, heart pounding, as I process what Geta has just said.

“If we can share an empire…” he repeats, his voice smooth, unwavering, “we can share a wife.”

The words don’t land on me. They don’t make sense. They don’t feel real. Alas, they hang in the air all the same, like a shadow that I can’t outrun. I blink, trying to clear the fog that has settled over my thoughts, but the more I try to focus, the more lost I feel.

What does this mean for me? For us?

I swallow hard, stepping back.

“And when I give birth to an heir?” The question escapes me before I can stop it, a horrible thought creeping into my mind. “What happens then? What if we don’t know who the father is? What would the Senate say?”

My stomach turns at the thought, my body tensing as I imagine the consequences. The conflict it would cause. The Senate. The People. Geta doesn’t flinch. He meets my gaze again without hesitation, calm and unbothered. His words are soft, deliberate.

“That’s a problem for later. The people don’t need to know everything. The Senate’s opinion is irrelevant.” He replies, as though it’s a simple matter, like it’s nothing at all.

His calmness unsettles me more than anything. He says it so easily, as if it’s just another thing to be handled, swept under the rug. Unfortunately, I can’t ignore the weight of his words, the implications of what he’s suggesting. Before I can respond, Caracalla moves. I barely have time to brace myself before his hands are on me, pulling me forward. His grip is strong, unyielding, his fingers pressing into my hips as he pulls me closer, in front of his twin. His proximity is overwhelming, and my breath catches in my throat.

“It’s none of their business.” He objects to my words, his voice low and possessive. “And if anyone dares to question the Emperors or the Empress, they’ll regret it. They’ll learn what happens when they try to cross us.”

His words are dangerous, like a promise wrapped in a threat. When I try to pull away, he holds me still, his hands unrelenting.

“If anyone dares to sully the image of the emperors… We will make them regret it. And they will pay the price. At the cost of their tongues!” He goes on, his voice darkening, more threatening.

The words hang in the air, thick and threatening, and my stomach churns. The look in his eyes makes my pulse race. Before I can fully comprehend what’s happening, Caracalla’s lips are on mine. The kiss is quick, forceful, stealing my breath in one movement. I stand frozen, unsure of how to react. My hands tremble, and I feel the bitter taste of him lingering on my lips as he pulls away, a wicked smile curling at the corners of his mouth. I turn my head, not wanting to meet his gaze, but it’s Geta’s voice that cuts through the haze.

“This is for you.” He admits, his tone surprisingly soft.

He holds out a small, ornate box and his fingers work the lid open with careful precision. Inside, nestled in the velvet lining, is a sapphire ring. The stone gleams in the dim light, its deep blue hue almost hypnotic. I stare at it, unsure of what to say. The ring is beautiful, but I’m sure it feels too heavy. Too much.

I don’t deserve it like all those poor people building the city, shaping it to their taste…

Geta holds it up, his eyes locked on mine.

“A token of my commitment to you. Something to show you where my loyalties lie.”

I don’t know what to feel. My heart is racing, my hands cold as I stare at the ring. The idea of wearing it feels wrong, like it’s not mine to wear. Like it belongs to someone else.

“Do I have a choice?” The question slips from my lips before I can think it through.

Geta’s gaze doesn’t falter. He takes a step forward, his body closer now, until the space between us feels unbearably small.

“You have a choice, but we both know it’s a choice you won’t make.”

His words sting, and the weight of them presses down on my chest. He’s right. There’s no choice here. I’m being pushed into a corner, forced to decide something I never wanted to choose. Instead of supporting his brother, Caracalla chuckles to make fun of both of us, the sound light and mocking. His eyes flicker to Geta before settling back on me.

“You can still say no!” he says with a smirk. “We just both know you won’t.”

The words hit me like a punch. I feel the weight of his gaze, the way it makes me feel small, insignificant, trapped. I look at them both, their eyes never leaving me, and I feel the walls closing in. The sapphire ring glints in the dim light, like it’s already a part of me, already a decision I’ve made without truly understanding it. Geta’s gaze softens slightly, though there’s still that quiet determination behind it.

“In the end, it’s not about what you want.” he comments before I can talk, his voice almost gentle. “It’s about what’s necessary. What’s best for the empire.”

Geta steps closer, the box still in his hands, holding the ring in front of me like a symbol of something I can’t escape.

“Will you wear it, now?” he asks, his voice steady.

I swallow hard and nod.

“Of course.”

I’m not sure if it’s for them, for myself, or for the empire, but at that moment, I make the decision.

Because, in the end, it’s not about what I want. It’s about what’s been decided for me. Geta’s steps sound louder than usual as he approaches me, the soft rustle of his robes the only indication of his presence. I keep my eyes on the floor, unable to meet his gaze. His fingers brush against my cheek, his touch almost tentative, as if he’s unsure of how far to go. I feel the heat of his hand against my skin, but it does nothing to steady me.

“[real name].” His voice breaks through the silence, soft but commanding. “Look at me.”

I raise my head slowly, my eyes meeting his. He’s standing just a few steps away, his dark eyes focused on me with an intensity that makes my pulse quicken. The sapphire ring glints on his finger, its deep blue gleam catching the light in a way that feels all too sharp, all too final.

I swallow, trying to clear the sudden lump in my throat.

“I’m glad you have agreed.” He comments, almost gently, though his voice holds an edge.

Without waiting for a response, he steps forward, taking my hand in his. The movement feels deliberate, his fingers encircling mine with ease. He raises my hand, his touch firm but not unkind, as he slides the ring from his own finger and brings it to mine. I feel the cold metal against my skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of his hand. The ring fits perfectly. It feels as though it’s been waiting for this moment. His thumb traces over my skin, brushing against the third finger of my left hand.

“It’s believed that this finger is connected to the heart.”

I can feel the weight of the ring as he slides it into place, settling it gently on my finger. The metal presses into my skin, the sapphire shining under the lights.

“Now it’s official. You’re mine. Just as I’m yours. You belong to Caracalla too.” he says softly, his lips curving into something that might have been a smile, though it doesn’t reach his eyes.

The words taste bitter in my mouth, like poison on the tip of my tongue. My chest tightens, my breath shallow, and I can’t bring myself to speak. I don’t know what to say. Instead, I turn my gaze to the floor, unable to meet his eyes. The weight of the moment presses on me, crushing in a way I can’t explain. And then, without warning, he tilts my chin up with his fingers, forcing me to look at him again. The movement is gentle but insistent, and I feel the spark of anger flare up within me. Gently, he presses his lips against mine for a sweet, romantic, kiss. Thankfully, it happens quickly enough for my taste, before he releases me.

I finally muster the strength to sit on the edge of the bed. My legs feel shaky, but I steady myself. I tell myself I need to calm down, that this is just another step, another part of the plan that has been unfolding since I was adopted by Senator Aurelius. Aas soon as I settle into the bed, I feel the tension in the air shift. Geta and Caracalla move without a word, their actions sure and deliberate. They strip away their clothes, and the space between us feels suddenly charged, as though everything has been set into motion and there's no turning back now. I don’t know where to look. My eyes scan the room, my heart pounding. They settle onto the bed beside me and I force myself to face forward. A breath escapes my lips as I pull the covers up over my body, my skin tingling with the awareness of their presence beside me. The heat of their bodies almost licks my skin. Their eyes never leave me, and it’s as though they’re waiting for me to say something. I take a deep breath, my mind racing.

“I want to be clear with you. I won’t be intimate with either of you until my wedding day.” I say, my voice softer than I want it to be. “I won’t lose my virginity before the ceremony.”

Caracalla chuckles low, a sound that sends a shiver down my spine. He’s close enough now that I can feel the warmth of his body against mine. His fingers trace a light pattern across my belly, and I freeze, unwilling to move, unwilling to break the tension that wraps around us all like a thick fog.

“You’re such a good girl, Y/N. But that won’t last long. We’ll show you the pleasures you’ve been missing.” Caracalla whispers, his voice rough, laced with something I can’t quite name.

My lips press together as my heart hammers in my chest. I don’t know if I should feel repulsed or if I should be terrified, or maybe both. I don’t know how to feel about this situation anymore. I simply look at the ceiling.

“I’ll… I’ll see you both tomorrow.” I mutter.

I wish I could escape from this moment, from this suffocating, overwhelming awareness of them, of their expectations. I don’t know how to protect myself from this world they’re pulling me deeper into, but I do know I need to hold on to myself, even if it feels like everything around me is slipping through my fingers. Caracalla laughs softly, the sound grating on my nerves.

“Good night.” He answers, his tone playful, teasing, as though he knows I’m not truly at ease.

As the darkness of the room settles around me, I bury my face in the pillow, willing the tears not to fall.

-

Okay, I hope this chapter isn't too bad! I'm having a really hard time focusing and I'm working on so many things at once right now. I feel like my brain is going to give out on me lol

My AO3: BetrayedWriter

-

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Ask to be added in the list! (or to be deleted)

[ruscatterbrain]

ONESHOT

Bakugo x reader izuku x reader platonic

Sum-Being best friends with your boyfriend rival isn’t easy but somehow you make it work 

Explosive Love

Being best friends with Izuku Midoriya and dating Katsuki Bakugo was like walking a tightrope over a pit of explosives.

It started with small things—glares across the cafeteria, scoffs when you mentioned Izuku’s name, and the occasional grumbled, "Why the hell do you hang out with that nerd so much?" Bakugo wasn’t the jealous type—at least, that’s what he claimed—but every time you laughed with Izuku or trained with him, he had that irritated look in his eyes, like he was one second away from blowing something up. Or someone.

Izuku, on the other hand, worried. He knew how explosive Bakugo’s temper could be, how closed-off he really was, while you—well, you were sunshine in human form.

"Are you sure Bakugo is… good to you?" he asked one afternoon as you walked back to the dorms. His voice was gentle, cautious, like he didn’t want to overstep.

You sighed, already knowing where this was going. "He’s not as bad as you think, Izuku."

Izuku gave you a look—the kind that said, I know him better than you do. But he didn’t push. He just nodded, offering a small smile, even though you could tell he was still uneasy.

You thought things would settle after a while, but Bakugo wasn’t the type to let things go easily.

It all came to a head one evening after training. You were with Izuku, as usual, sitting on the grass outside the dorms, catching your breath after an intense sparring session. You were laughing about something dumb—probably Mineta making a fool of himself—when a sharp crack of an explosion behind you made you jump.

"You seriously got nothing better to do than hang around Deku all day?" Bakugo’s voice was sharp, his hands still sparking from his Quirk.

You groaned, rubbing your temples. "Katsuki, we were just training. Relax."

Izuku stood up, holding his hands out in a placating gesture. "Kacchan, I’m not trying to—"

"Shut up," Bakugo snapped, stepping closer. "You think I don’t see you? Always hovering, always trying to act like you're better than me!" His voice was loud, sharp like a blade, but underneath, you could hear the frustration. This wasn’t just about you and Izuku. This was about their past, their rivalry, and everything unspoken between them.

You stepped between them, pressing a hand against Bakugo’s chest before he could do something reckless. "Stop it," you said firmly, meeting his gaze. "I’m with you, aren’t I?"

His eyes flickered with something—uncertainty, maybe. His hands clenched, then unclenched, the sparks in his palms dying down. He hated moments like this, when his emotions got the best of him, when someone saw past all his rough edges.

"Tch." He turned his head away, clicking his tongue. "Whatever."

Izuku let out a small sigh of relief, but he still looked at you like he was worried.

You reached for Bakugo’s hand, intertwining your fingers with his. He let you—barely—but his grip was tight, like he was grounding himself.

"I’m not choosing sides," you told him. "I care about both of you. You just have to deal with that."

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then, begrudgingly, he muttered, "Yeah, yeah. Just don’t expect me to start liking Deku or some shit."

You laughed, squeezing his hand. "Wouldn’t dream of it."

Izuku chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "I guess that’s the best I can ask for."

And just like that, the storm passed. Bakugo would always be explosive, Izuku would always be kind, and you’d always be stuck in the middle. But if you had to walk this tightrope, you’d do it—because somehow, in all this chaos, you had found something worth holding onto.

Someone worth holding onto.

©Scatterbrain 2025-2026 do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work. Reserved rights to any original ideas. I do not own any established characters. All rights reserved.

[pzos-amiserableidiot]

Okay so I’ve tried looking and maybe I’m just bad at finding where everyone else in love with this niche is hiding but like. Carlton Lassiter/Burton Guster from Psych (2006) is an underrated ship. Like I thought maybe in the OT4 people would utilize their dynamic a bit more but no!! They’ll do literally every combo of the ship and leave Gus and Lassie like… never or barely interacting?!? And I’m like guys!!!! There’s so much to be used between those two!!!!

- they both are looking for commitment

- They both are really weird about their cars

- The tap dancing episode!!

- Gus being more serious but still going along with Shawn’s antics. Could help Lassie loosen up a little

- Carlton being more serious and reliable and while weird Gus has his own quirks and is best friends with Shawn. I highly doubt Lassie’s own interests would be much of a turn off.

- I truly think Gus would freak out and go even harder on his ‘Lassie is weird’ thing, trying to get rid of his crush by spending more time with Carlton, being horrified he’s finding his quirks endearing. To the giving in a flirting.

- I think Lassie wouldn’t be as horrified more just ‘really?????? Idiot #2??????’

Like yeah there will definitely be issues like Lassiter always putting his work first and staying late but they’re both romantics and Gus will follow Shawn and like listen. They’d have to work through a lot but so does literally every other pair in the OT4!!!! So I don’t see these as bad things just issues to play with!! Fun angst!!

Maybe I’m not explaining this well at all but I truly think Gus/Lassie is a such a fun little rare pair and underrated dynamic. A lot of what makes Shawn/Gus (specifically not wanting to mess up the current dynamic and one dragging the other into antics) and Gus/Jules (strangers to coworkers to friends to lovers) and Shawn/Lassiter (idiots and denial and fuck ur hot why are you hot) such fun and interesting pairs is what makes Gus/Lassiter fun too!! Strangers to enemies(?) to coworkers to friends to lovers! Denial! Angst! Internal crises!! It’s just so good and I want more.

To further the Gus/Lassiter agenda I recommend the following two fics to everyone. Both are on ao3.

i wanna wake up with your weight by my side by under_the_silk_tree

A Gus sick fic where Lassie has to take care of Gus. Very cute. 8k+ words. One shot

Last Week Gus by under_the_silk_tree

The tags and summary kinda give it away but it’s so !!!!!!! 3k+ words. One shot

[babsworlds]

COMPLETELY WASTED.

pairing. Dave Lizewski x bsf! fem! reader

synopsis. Dave gets very very drunk and say some things that really catch you off guard.

warnings. drunk Dave (like whoa), alcohol, mention of throwing up, pre relationship.

babs’ notes. this is similar to Midnight Confessions but this is standalone, i just had to write wasted Dave lol.

BRINGING DAVE TO THE PARTY WAS THE STUPIDEST IDEA EVER. You didn’t know what you were thinking when you told yourself it would be a great idea and so much fun. In hindsight, you realized that taking someone who never drank to a party with free-flowing alcohol was a recipe for disaster. You had envisioned a night of dancing, laughter, and good times, but it quickly became clear that the evening would take a very different turn.

Dave never drank; he just wasn’t used to that. And the fact that he didn’t know his limits made it even worse. When he agreed to have "just one drink," you had no idea that it would lead to several more. Before you knew it, he was well past his tolerance level, and the effects of the alcohol were evident. His usually composed and responsible demeanor had disappeared, replaced by a goofy, unsteady version of himself.

You stumbled through the house, trying to keep Dave at least a bit stable, as he was completely wasted. You had never seen him like that before—logically, because he was always the one who took care of you when you were drunk. But you found it funny anyway; seeing him like this was just something hilarious.

As you tried to support his weight, you couldn’t help but laugh at his unsteady steps and the slurred, playful comments he made. He was trying so hard to keep it together, but the alcohol had clearly gotten the best of him.

You sat him on the stairs, taking a moment to look at your drunk best friend. His head was leaning against the wall, his usually composed expression replaced with a goofy grin. You thought about what to do next and honestly, you had no idea.

Dave looked at you, grinning from ear to ear. “You are so done, mate,” you laughed at his expression. His eyes were half-closed, and his smile was lopsided, making him look even more comical.

He completely ignored how you practically laughed at him. “I need you,” he slurred, looking at you with his drunken blue eyes, but still, they were full of desire and longing. His normally clear and sharp gaze was clouded by the effects of the alcohol, but there was something earnest in his expression that tugged at your heartstrings.

It was as if, in his inebriated state, he was more honest and vulnerable than he had ever been before. The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, you wondered if there was more to his drunken confession than just the influence of the drinks he had consumed.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “To call your dad to get you? Definitely,” you finished his sentence, trying to play it off as if it didn’t mean anything. You hoped that injecting a bit of humor would diffuse the intensity of the moment, but deep down, you knew there was more to his statement than he was letting on.

“Oh no, please,” he panicked, a look of horror crossing his face. Of course, you wouldn’t do that to his dad, and he knew it deep down. Still, the idea of involving his father seemed to sober him up just a bit, and he looked at you with a pleading expression. “Don’t call him. I can handle it,” he insisted, his voice trembling slightly.

“So you better start sobering up, Lizewski,” you said with a smile, but your tone was firm. You knew that getting him home safely was your priority, and seeing him in this state was a reminder of just how vulnerable he could be. The balance between teasing and concern was a delicate one, and you wanted to ensure he knew you were there for him, no matter what.

Dave nodded, his expression a mix of regret and determination. He tried to sit up straighter, but his head lolled back against the wall. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, the words barely audible over the noise of the party. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

“You’re not causing trouble,” you reassured him, gently patting his shoulder. “But we need to get you home. Can you walk, or do you need me to call a ride?” Your voice was soft yet firm.

Dave took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “I think I can walk,” he said, though his wobbling stance suggested otherwise. He took a tentative step, his legs unsteady and his balance precarious.

You managed to get Dave out into the fresh air. Luckily, the party was just a few blocks from your house, so it wasn’t a long walk. Dave had obviously lied about being able to walk—he could hardly stand. He collapsed onto the grass, and you rolled your eyes in exasperation.

You knew you couldn’t do it yourself, so you decided to call Todd, who was also at the party, hoping he wasn’t in a similar state as Dave.

“Todd?” you said into the phone, trying to keep your voice steady. “Can you come out in front of the house and help me get Lizewski home?” you asked, glancing over at the wasted Dave lying on the ground.

“I’m coming,” Todd replied, his voice determined. He clearly didn’t know what was waiting for him.

You kept an eye on Dave, who was now mumbling incoherently to himself. His usually sharp and witty demeanor was nowhere to be found, replaced by the drunken ramblings of someone who had definitely had too much to drink.

A few moments later, Todd appeared, looking relatively sober and ready to help. “Oh man, he’s really out of it,” Todd remarked, taking in the sight of Dave sprawled on the grass.

“Yeah, he is,” you replied with a wry smile. “Let’s get him home before he decides to start singing or something.”

Todd chuckled and nodded, bending down to help you lift Dave to his feet. With a bit of effort and coordination, the two of you managed to steady him and start the slow journey back to your house. Dave leaned heavily on both of you, his steps unsteady but grateful for the support.

“I want to kiss both of you,” Dave slurred, looking at you, then dramatically tilting his head towards Todd.

You and Todd shared a look, and you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile. “Being drunk isn’t an excuse for acting gay, man,” Todd said, narrowing his eyes at Dave. Todd definitely wasn’t completely sober either.

Dave giggled, clearly amused by his own bold statement. “I mean it,” he insisted, though his words were heavily slurred. “You guys are the best.”

“You can start reciting love sonnets next,” you pointed out as you tried to steady Dave’s walk.

“Alright!” Dave exclaimed with a slurred laugh, his enthusiasm unrestrained by his inebriation. He was clearly up for the challenge, even if his words were stumbling over each other.

“Please no!” Todd yelled, his voice filled with mock horror. The idea of a drunken Dave reciting love sonnets was terrifying for your ears. Todd’s exaggerated reaction only added to the absurdity of the situation, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the playful exchange.

You finally saw your front door, your eyes flickering with hope. You gave Todd a nod. “Okay, Romeo, say goodbye to your Juliet,” you said, as Todd let go of him.

Dave wobbled a bit but managed to stay upright, giving Todd a lopsided grin. “Goodbye, Juliet,” he said dramatically, attempting a bow but nearly losing his balance. You and Todd both chuckled at his theatrics.

“Thanks for the help,” you said, looking at Todd as you held Dave by his waist, his arm around your neck. “Can you make it home?” you assured yourself as you asked Todd.

“Yep,” Todd said confidently, waving to you with a grin.

You opened the door to your house, relieved that nobody was home. If your parents saw Dave like this, they would probably forbid you from hanging out with him. The thought of explaining the situation to them was something you were glad to avoid.

You led Dave to your room, where he promptly collapsed onto your bed. You took off his shoes, shaking your head at the state he was in. “Sit,” you commanded, trying to maintain some semblance of order.

Dave sat up, his movements sluggish and uncoordinated. You reached for the hem of his shirt, wanting to change it since it was smelly and stained with throw-up. “I love you, Y/n,” he confessed, his voice a mix of sincerity and intoxication.

“Shut up,” you said, rolling your eyes and trying to ignore the flutter in your chest. His confession made you feel something, but you pushed it aside for the moment. “Hands up,” you commanded again. Dave obediently raised his hands, allowing you to take off his shirt.

As you removed his shirt, you couldn’t help but glance at his bare chest, especially his abs. He had mentioned that he had been working out lately, but damn, seeing the results in person was quite the revelation. You felt a mixture of surprise and admiration, but you quickly refocused on the task at hand.

You grabbed a clean shirt you had once decided to keep and helped him put it on. “Much better,” you said, trying to maintain a sense of normalcy despite the fluttering emotions inside you.

“Now pants,” you said, you couldn’t believe you were really doing this. You forced him to open the button and zip of his jeans.

As you took hold of his pants, rolling them down to his ankles, Dave looked at you with a mischievous grin. “Y/n, you are an animal,” he teased, clearly enjoying the situation despite his intoxicated state.

“You wish,” you replied, rolling your eyes as you threw his sweatpants from your drawer at him. The absurdity of the situation was not lost on you, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at how the night had turned out. Dave struggled a bit to pull on the sweatpants, his coordination not quite up to par, but he eventually managed.

You gave him a blanket as he comforted himself in your bed, still leaving enough space for you to fit. “I love you, you are the best,” he mumbled, his eyes half-closed as he watched you changing. You didn’t really mind his gaze; in fact, it felt oddly reassuring to have him there, even in his drunken state.

“You better,” you said with a smile, the words laced with affection as you turned away to change into your own sleepwear. The room was quiet except for the soft rustling of the sheets and Dave’s gentle breathing. The events of the night played back in your mind, and despite the chaos, you felt a deep sense of contentment.

Once you were changed, you climbed into bed next to Dave, careful not to disturb him. He shifted slightly, making room for you and reaching out to pull you closer. The warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his breathing brought you a sense of comfort.

As you lay there, the weight of the night’s events slowly lifted, replaced by the simple joy of being close to someone you cared about deeply. Dave’s earlier confession echoed in your mind, and while you had brushed it off at the time, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of emotion at his words.

The morning after was a bit hectic. Dave had the biggest and his first hangover ever. You gave him some meds as he sat at the kitchen island, his head in his hands, regretting everything as you made breakfast.

“What everything did I say?” he asked carefully, his voice filled with a mix of curiosity and dread.

Your smile turned mischievous, but you didn’t look at him, keeping your attention on breakfast. “You sure you want to hear it?”

Dave groaned, even though he wanted to know, he was scared, fearing the worst. You turned around and handed him a plate of scrambled eggs.

You leaned against the kitchen counter, looking at him with a mix of amusement and concern. “You wanted to kiss Todd, almost threw up, and wanted to recite love sonnets,” you started, watching as Dave’s eyes widened in horror. “And you said multiple times that you love me and need me,” you added, your voice becoming quieter as you spoke.

Dave’s head shot up, and he yelled, “I did what?!” The loudness of his own voice seemed to make his headache even worse, and he winced in pain. “I said I love you?”

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yeah, you did. Several times, actually.” You watched as Dave’s expression shifted from shock to embarrassment.

“Oh my god,” Dave breathed out. “I’m never letting Todd mix drinks again,” he tried to make it Todd’s fault.

“You mixed them yourself,” you corrected him, shrugging. Dave’s face turned a shade redder as he remembered the events of the previous night. He looked like he wanted to disappear from the world after all the disaster he caused.

“Y/n?” He broke the silence, his voice tentative. You turned to him, giving him a nod to show you were listening. “And do you love me?” Your heart dropped, and for a moment, you thought he was still drunk. But as you looked into his eyes, you realized he was completely serious and sober. The vulnerability and sincerity in his gaze were unmistakable.

You took a deep breath, your mind racing with thoughts and emotions. This wasn’t how you had imagined having this conversation, but here it was, staring you right in the face.

"Yeah," you said, smiling softly. "I do." You had just admitted you had feelings for your best friend after denying it for years.

In the end, drunk Dave was actually pretty useful in uncovering long-buried feelings.

[waugh-bao]

[quietwingsinthesky]

the amount of time i spend thinking about Even carrying the metacrisis doctor’s fob watch is really quite disproportionate to how much ive fleshed out that part of the story in my head

[the-bluestreak-cat]

My extremely personal red flag is if you’ve never lived independently.

Do not open tags it’s just a personal vent and I hit the tag limit (30) and that’s never happened to me before ajskdlf

[brbiekiss]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ permission ft, katsuki bakugo

summary. when his friends ask him to hang out while he’d rather be with you, katsuki always hits them with the same answer

a knock on bakugo’s door of his dorm room causes a groan to escape his lips, unwrapping his arms from you where you were both previously cuddled up while watching a movie on your laptop.

“who’s that?”, you ask, still laid up in his bed as you watch him get up while marching to his door with pure attitude.

“probably them damn extras again.”, he complains with a grumble, opening his door to find kaminari, kirishima and sero stood there with large smiles on their faces.

“what’s with your goofy faces? and why are you knocking on my door at 10pm?”, he questions, a scowl plastered on his face.

“we were wondering if you wanted to come play this new game with us?”, kirishima asks, holding up a video game you know your boyfriend has been wanting to try out for a while now.

he leans against the doorframe, “well, i’m with my girlfriend right now.”

“yeah but you’ve wanted to play this for a while, right? i’m sure she’ll be fine with it.”, kaminari reasons, sero nodding along with him.

letting out the biggest sigh he could, bakugo replies, “yeah whatever, let me ask her.”, shutting his door halfway so the boys couldn’t see bakugo’s little act he was about to pull off.

“you can go if you want, i don’t mind.” you say softly, turning your head away from the movie you were just watching. you really didn’t mind if he wanted to hang out with his friends since he spent majority of his time with you anyway.

he frowns at your response, mouthing a ‘be quiet’ before opening the door once again after a minute or so, seeing their anticipated smiles.

“yeah she said no.”, bakugo shrugs through his lie nonchalantly, causing you to whip your head back around at him while furrowing your brows.

was this man trying to make his friends hate you?

“well, do you really need to be asking your girlfriend for permission, dude? seems kinda toxic..”, kaminari starts, scratching the back of his head with an awkward look on his face.

“are you questioning her?”, bakugo questions, his voice slightly raised as he holds his usual angry face when anyone mentions anything he doesn’t like about you.

he’s always been protective like that. although, you do wonder if that’s the reason why most of the boys seem a little too cautious around you and always refuse to train with you. bakugo always tells you not to worry about it.

“nah, course not, bro. we’ll play another time it’s fine.”, kirishima steps in, holding his hands up while giving a light hearted laugh, trying to cool bakugo’s behaviour.

“yeah, yeah, fine. whatever.”, bakugo rolls his eyes, shooing off his friends before turning back to you, the angered expression he once had completely wiped off.

his sight finally falls back onto you as he walks back over and getting comfortable in his bed again, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to his chest as he interlocks his legs with yours.

if anyone saw the position bakugo was in now, they wouldn’t believe their eyes. angry, aggressive bakugo laid up with a girl, holding onto her so gently as he kisses her forehead, watching some bullshit movie you know he has no interest in watching, and all for his sweet little girlfriend who everyone now seems to think holds him hostage so he can’t hang out with his boys.

and all because he simply just wants to spend all his time with his girlfriend.

“you’re such a lover boy.”, you smile at him, knowing how embarrassed he gets when you say things like this.

“shut up.”, he grumbles, partly hiding his face in the covers as he continues watching the movie with you, back where he wanted to be.

he knows you’re right. you have this man absolutely whipped for you and he couldn’t even care less about it.

© brbiekiss | do not plagiarise or translate any of my work

[tonycries]

FIRST masterlist! This masterlist has all my writing from 06/02/24 up until 01/10/24 — for my recent works click on my SECOND MASTERLIST <3

Men In Uniform Do It Best!

Dirty Lil' Secrets

A Picture Lasts Long (But Not As Long As That D*ck)

I'm Addicted, I Admit It!

Give Me Tough Love

Never Ever Seen This Before!

We Don't Have No Babies!

Like A Fever

Bad Things (To You)

Prettier When Messy!

Care For You!

Green-eyed Monster

So Lonely In My Mansion!

Kiss Me More!

Girl, I Do This Often

Cause, I Love Freaks!

Sl*t Me Out!

Match My Freak!

WAP!

R U Mine?

Hot To Go!

Girl, You Earned It!

I'm A BIG Stepper!

BODY-ODY!

SOOO ANXIOUS

Long Overdue!

THIS P*SSY DEPRESSED!

The Family Matter?!

I-T G-I-R-L!

I Lasted Ten Rounds!

BRAT!

She's My Vitals!

Three's a Crowd (But Four...) — “So, are they like holograms? Or can you really touch them?” “Why? Trynna cop a feel, sweetheart?” In which you and your boyfriend find very unconventional uses for his powers.

Why Can't I Keep My Fingers Off You? [Part 1] [Part 2] — There were two things missing in the scene in front of you: 1. The aphrodisiac chocolate your friends had given as a gag gift last Christmas that had been hidden away in the back of your refrigerator. 2. Your dear fiancé.

Dream A Little Dream — For the strongest, it was a privilege to dream. Especially when his dream is you. 

Initiation! — “Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.” Couldn’t be too hard, right? So why are you - the all-new frat sweetheart - being pinned to the bed and stuffed full from all ends by your frat brothers?

One More? Please? — A kiss always solves everything! But when a kiss turns into something more…well, it’s only a desperate attempt to unseal yourselves from this damned prison realm, right? Right?

Everybody Knows That I'm a Good Girl, Officers... — You don’t know what’s faster - how fast you were speeding down the highway, or how fast you’re on your knees for the hot officers that just so happen to pull you over.

Hope They Catch Us — When you’re on-screen, it’s always a rivalry to see who’s best - you just never thought that it would be the same struggle in bed.

Unmistakably Yours — In which the strongest bends space and time - literally - after coming back from deatḣ, to do what he’s always wanted to do - you.

Madam Gojo — Gojo Satoru, the strongest clan leader in all of Japan - and the most dangerous, too. You, rejected by the elders, and totally not his future bride, right? Right?

Can't Touch Me (Like Gojo) — In which intentionally making your fríend-with-benefíts jealous ends up with more benefits than you’d think.

The Heir — No, your clan leader husband won’t stop until he gives you an heir. No, you don’t think you’ll make it out alive.

The Call — After an explosive fight with your boyfriend, you really should feel sorry about being swept up by the blue-eyed stranger at the club - but it’s so hard when he kisses you like that.

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy — He knows that you would be one of his favorite stories from his travels. And you know that you want nothing more than to stay by his side. After meeting an alluring cowboy at Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon, both of you are sure of one thing - this must be fate.

Go For It, Gojo! [Part 1] [Part 2] — You wouldn’t fuck Gojo Satoru even if you were paid…is what you thought exactly five minutes before you were shoved against the wall of this cramped closet, his face stuffed in your soaked panties.

Unhoneymooners!? — The universe was surely playing a joke on you. Here you were, trapped on a luxury getaway with your - dangerously handsome, extremely obnoxious - ex. Either you were going to kill each other or end up pinned beneath him, split apart on his cóck. You just didn’t know what would come first.

AITA For F*cking My Sugar Daddy's Son?! — When your sugar daddy just isn’t paying attention to you, can you really be blamed for fúcking his son? Especially when his son is absolutely obsessed with you.

Bad Boys Bring Roses — You’ve never dealt with the yakuza - not once. So why is the future head of the Gojo clan suddenly coming up to you, demanding that you marry him for 30 days?

The Way You Kiss Me — The four times Satoru tries really hard not to kiss you - his best friend’s pretty younger sister. And the one time he doesn’t.

Isn't That Sweet? (I Guess So) — Oh no! Why do your pantíes keep disappearing? Well, maybe your hot roommate knows the answer…

Haunting You — A bIoody trail of vampire attácks, a political marriage, and four suitors you’re forced to choose from - all haunting you. But none as much as the mysterious stranger that makes everything in you scream that you might just be fated for the very thing your kingdom is trying to escape from.

You'll Taste Me Too! — How do you last three days on a work trip with the man you hate the most in the office? You don’t - you end up pinned underneath him, instead.

We Neva Play! — Turns out, the “r” in rivals stands for “really good séx” when a mission becomes a little too hot to handle.

Something Stupid — Five times the strongest would rather díe than tell you he loves you, and the one time he almost does. Almost.

Initiation! — “Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.” Couldn’t be too hard, right? So why are you - the all-new frat sweetheart - being pinned to the bed and stuffed full from all ends by your frat brothers?

Like An Animal — Of course Toji doesn’t want any more kids. Of course he’s lying as he stuffs your pretty cúnt full of his cúm for the third time tonight.

Whiskey, Neat, With a Side of You — When your date stands you up, you’re lucky that the hot bartender is more than happy to keep you company! 

Everybody Knows That I'm a Good Girl, Officers... — You don’t know what’s faster - how fast you were speeding down the highway, or how fast you’re on your knees for the hot officers that just so happen to pull you over.

F*ck You! (Literally) — Of course, you hated your ex-husband. Of course, you found yourself in bed with him on your wedding anniversary.

Government Hooker — With the fame and glory of being an international popstar comes the inevitable threat of an overzealous stalker. You just didn’t think that it would also come with a very sexy, buff bodyguard behind your every move.

Madam Zenin — There’s nothing that rouses Toji, the infamous head of the Zenin clan, nothing that will make him lose control - until they take what’s most important to him. You.

Brooklyn Baby — Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades. Said Suguru doesn’t want to fuck anyone else but you. He couldn’t give less of a fuck if anyone walked in right now. In fact, a small part of him wishes someone would.

Initiation! — “Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.” Couldn’t be too hard, right? So why are you - the all-new frat sweetheart - being pinned to the bed and stuffed full from all ends by your frat brothers?

Golden Boy — Falling right back in love with the cult leader you’re supposed to kíll? Happens more often than you’d think.

Welcome To The Itadori's! — Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does. 

FIVE! — Five hours - it’s all it takes for Choso’s baby fever to take over. After all, you’d look so pretty with his kid - five of them, in fact.

Great With Kids? (You Can Have Mine) — When your younger brother gets a new babysitter, only two questions linger on your mind: 1. How come your parents didn’t trust you in charge? 2. How dare the sexy babysitter be so perfect - it made you want some attention too.

Freak On The Cam! — Choso always loved watching you - his pretty lil’ camgírl - from behind the screen. Who knew he’d love being on-screen with you even more?

Initiation! — “Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.” Couldn’t be too hard, right? So why are you - the all-new frat sweetheart - being pinned to the bed and stuffed full from all ends by your frat brothers?

A Million Dollar Baby! — Turns out, rent can be paid in much more than one way.

Can't Touch Me (Like Gojo) — In which intentionally making your fríend-with-benefíts jealous ends up with more benefits than you’d think.

Exes who...

Love Is Blind

“She My Best Friend, Yeah We Not a Couple.”

Wanna Do Bad Things To You

I Wanna Get Freaky On Camera

Lemme Ride, Baby!

Can I Fill You Up, Baby?

"Pull On It. Harder."

Little Heaven

©2025 tonycries. All work belongs to @tonycries. Do NOT repost, modify, translate or plagiarize in any way on ANY platforms. This includes themes, headers, and pinned.

[amiableness]

Little Lies

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem! Reader

Summary: James asks Sirius and Y/n to pretend to date after he blurts out they are to Lily.

Word Count: 11.4k

Warnings: smut 18+, male masturbation, oral fem receiving, fingering, unprotected sex (pls be so careful!), reader wears a bikini top, and jealousy

A/N 💌 Hope you all enjoy this; it's been my baby for a while!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“I may have severely fucked up.” James sighs, his features tight with guilt as he stands before you. His chest is heaving like he has run all the way to you—it’s a likely theory.

Remus glances up from beside you; the two of you had been buried in your homework in the common room when James came racing in. He’s disappointed that James has disrupted the productive atmosphere. There’s no way that you or Remus will be continuing to work on your essays.

His admission doesn’t surprise you; James has come to you countless times seeking assistance after making a mistake. Being best friends since you were born, you’ve grown accustomed to being the one to untangle his messes.

Your parents were best friends, which meant that you and James were also raised to be. There wasn’t a memory that you could recall that James wasn’t in. It ended up working; to both of your mum’s excitement, you and James were inseparable. As the levelheaded one between you, you often found yourself trailing after James, tasked with picking up the pieces.

It was in the aftermath of pranks spiraling out of control, times when he impulsively voiced things he really shouldn’t have, or instances when he procrastinated excessively on his work, inevitably turning to you for help with his essays. Surprisingly, it’s become almost amusing to you, a reliable routine in your friendship.

You undeniably held the title of James Potter’s best friend.

Your eyes narrow skeptically, folding your arms over your chest, “Define severely.”

His demeanor turns sheepish as he nervously rubs the back of his neck, his gaze drifting away from you. He looks incredibly uncomfortable, “I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

“You’re not starting off strong.” You snark, an amused smile finding its way onto your lips. Remus chuckles next to you.

“Y/n.” James sighs, his expression urging you to stop your teasing.

“James.” You mimic.

He shoots you a glare, eyes narrowed in mock irritation, “Lily and I were chatting, like really chatting,” He begins, sighing obnoxiously as he settles into the chair opposite you, his expression a grimace. “She told me why she hasn’t taken me seriously when I flirt with her.”

You pause, confusion etching into your features, “And where exactly did you severely fuck up?”

“She thought we were a couple.” He says, his hands gesturing wildly between the two of you, his expression a mix of incredulity and amusement. “Can you believe that? You and me?”

You can believe that, actually. You and James have been mistaken for a couple more times than you can count. Even your parents were convinced the two of you would end up together. While you had told them it wasn’t going to happen, you were convinced they were still holding out hope.

You furrow your brows as you watch him a tad uneasy, “Okay, and where did you severely fuck up in this?”

“I panicked, okay?” James looks guilty when he blurts this out. He nearly shouts it, and Remus hushes him. “She said it wasn’t fair for me to flirt with her because of you. She didn’t want your feelings to be hurt and wouldn’t listen when I said we were just friends. And I panicked.”

“Mate, get to the bloody point.” Remus huffs out, tired of James dragging out the story. Nothing bothered Remus more than when James or Sirius took an eternity to get to the point of their story.

“I told her you’re dating Sirius.” James grimaces, shifting nervously.

“What?” You hiss, your palms smacking onto the table, causing James to flinch, “Have you taken too many hits to the head? James, we are not dating!”

James protests, panicking, “But Lily doesn’t know that! If you two could just pretend-“

“No, absolutely not! That is going too far.” You snap, sending James a frustrated look, while Remus is chuckling to himself next to you.

“Y/n, please. This could be it! My chance with Lily!” James pleads. He’s desperate to try and salvage the plan he had put all his hopes on.

“Starting your new relationship with a lie, are we?” You snap, massaging at your temples. Most of the stress is from spending too many hours studying, but James is undoubtedly making it worse.

James shrugs, a mischievous smirk starting to form, “Well, not really. You and Sirius already flirt a lot. It’s not that far off from the truth.”

James was well aware of your feelings for Sirius; he had watched how you nervously stumbled over your words the first day you met Sirius. He had never seen you like that before, eyes lit up with inflation at first glance.

While he occasionally teased you about it, he understood that what you felt for Sirius was deeper than just a crush. Though you would never admit it out loud.

Your frustration grows, “It absolutely is far off from the truth. Lily probably didn’t even believe you! There’s no evidence for her to believe the idea that we are together.” You cry, disbelief evident in your voice. James’s casual attitude only adds to your frustration. He doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest.

Remus interjects, an amused scoff escaping him, “There’s evidence to believe it.”

“Are you joking?” You deadpan, your voice full of incredulity. Remus sends you a teasing smirk. He considers how Sirius flirts with you more than anyone else, but he doesn’t want to deal with Sirius furious at him.

Ever since you met Sirius, you have had a crush on him. Realistically, you knew it was pointless; Sirius had a fan club of admirers. So, you counted yourself lucky that you were one of his closest friends. Being his friend was manageable, and quite honestly, kept your expectations in check.

But Sirius acting like he had feelings for you? You wouldn’t handle that well.

James interjects, “Lily believed it. She even said she wasn’t surprised.”

“But she thought you and I were together?” You ask, sarcasm dripping from every word.

Your tone was snippier than you intended, but you could feel the stress building. The mere thought of pretending to be with Sirius made you feel nauseous.

“She might’ve just been jealous, wanting to know if you had feelings for James before she finally goes for him.” Remus says casually, and James’ eyes light up in excitement.

James is positively giddy as he leans forward, “You think she was jealous?”

“Does Sirius even know?” You interrupt, catching James’s eye. He glances at Remus, clearly hoping to hear more about Lily’s supposed jealousy.

James shakes his head, and you scoff, opening your mouth to enlighten James on why you think this is a bad idea. Before you can say anything, Remus cuts you off, “Here’s your chance to tell him.”

You glance up to see Sirius walking through the library, and you resist letting out a lovesick sigh at how effortlessly handsome he is.

Your stomach plummets at the sight of a stunning girl effortlessly chatting with him. His laughter rings out, causing unease to settle in your stomach.

If he was close enough, you probably would’ve tried to eavesdrop.

Despite not knowing her name, you know she’s a Gryffindor; you’ve seen her in the common room. James nudges you, and when you glance at him, he sends you a knowing look.

“Glad to see you guys are having study dates without Peter and me.” Sirius calls, settling into the seat next to James and patting him on the shoulder in greeting.

Relief washes over you as you notice that the girl who was with him a second ago is long gone. He glances over at you, and pauses in surprise at your disgruntled expression, “You okay?”

Remus chuckles at the question, finding the harsh look you shoot James hilarious. It’s clear that he’s finding this entire situation entertaining.

“Ask James about what he told Lily.” You say, voice strained with irritation. James sends Sirius a nervous smile, and Sirius looks at him oddly.

“What’d you do?”

Sirius asks, his eyes darting back to you, taking note of your frustrated expression. Your stomach tightens with nerves, scared of Sirius’ reaction. Remus leans back in his chair, excited to see how this will all play out.

“Lily and I were talking today,” James sighs, “and she wouldn’t stop going on about how she thinks Y/n is in love with me and that it’s not fair for me to flirt with her because I could be hurting her.”

“She thinks I’m in love with you?” You shriek, oblivious to the barely visible flinch on Sirius’ face at James’ words. Remus catches it, his grin getting bigger.

James ignores you, “Anyways, I said that it’s not a problem because you and Y/n are dating.” James finishes cautiously, his gaze locked on Sirius, curious for his reaction. Your breath is caught in your throat, your eyes fixed intently on Sirius, awaiting his reaction as well.

“You told Lily that Y/n’s my girl?” Sirius inquires casually, causing your stomach to somersault at his words. You force yourself to focus on James instead of the warmth creeping into your skin.

“I panicked, and that’s what came out. So, if you guys could pretend you’re madly in love, that would be great!” James claps his hands together, and you feel the urge to wack him. You’re prepared to snap at him, to explain why asking this of you both isn’t right.

But then Sirius shrugs, “Sure, shouldn’t be too hard, right, sweet girl?” He says, and your legs feel like jelly.

You’re floundering, not having expected Sirius to agree. He’s never maintained a steady relationship, so pretending that he’s dating you is a big ask. His agreement sends your mind spiraling with different scenarios. For a brief second, you wonder if he agrees so easily because he has feelings for you. But you quickly shut down that thought.

You’re delusional. You truly are.

“Sure, that shouldn’t be too bad.” You agree, hoping you appear casual about this.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“I need you two to amp it up. Lily is eating breakfast with us today.” James directs, causing you to glance up from your breakfast, disbelief etched into your features. He takes a bite of bacon and casually observes you as though his request is perfectly normal.

“We’ve switched spots, is that not enough for you?” You ask sarcastically, and Remus shakes his head, wearing an entertained smile as he continues eating breakfast. He can tell you’re panicking about pretending to be with Sirius; it’s painfully obvious to everyone at the table.

You’re usually seated between James and Peter, but when you attempted to slide into the seat this morning, James slammed his hand down on the seat and instructed you to sit next to your boyfriend, wearing a smug smile. Peter snorted softly but quickly replaced it with a sympathetic smile, silently apologizing for his reaction.

“I mean, we all know Sirius is into PDA, and you look terrified to even be sitting next to him.” Peter points out, and you find yourself scrabbling.

Were you two supposed to be super affectionate? Would Sirius find it weird if you initiated it? Questions are flooding your mind leaving you feeling overwhelmed.

“I am not terrified. I just don’t know how to act.” You insist.

“Act like you’re in love with him; it shouldn’t be too hard, right?” James quips, earning a glare from you. He responds with a playful wink.

“The boys are right. You need to sit closer to me.” Sirius declares as his arm slips around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You squeak his name in surprise, flustered at how easily he moves you. The boys chuckle at your bewildered expression, finding your embarrassment hilarious.

You feel disappointed when he releases you. Even more so when he doesn’t pull you flush against him. Instead, your shoulder to shoulder, the distance between you both feeling more pronounced than ever.

“I’m still waiting on the PDA.” Remus says with a playful smirk; his eyes are full of mischief when you glance at him.

You elbow Remus in the side, and he playfully nudges you back, causing you to bump into Sirius’ side. Sirius surprises you by wrapping his arm around you, keeping you against him while playfully calling out, “Oi, back off, mate.” Being pressed against his side causes warmth to spread through you as you lean further into him.

James watches as Sirius’s cheeks flush, a soft smile on his face as he gazes down at you. You appear flustered but content, being so close to him, and James can’t help but grin at the two of you.

“We’re not going to be all over each other.” You say, attempting to distract yourself from the fact that you’re pushed up against Sirius.

“Why not?” James leans forward with a grin, clearly finding everything about this entertaining. “That is what most couples do. Plus, Sirius openly flirts with everyone. But he won’t kiss his own girlfriend? It’s not believable.”

“Merlin, we should have talked about this last night.” You mumble under your breath, and Sirius chuckles beside you. He’s entirely at ease. It doesn’t seem like he has any worries about pretending to be your boyfriend. With that observation, you try not to let your worries spiral out of control.

“Listen, we can do whatever you’re comfortable with. If you don’t want to kiss, then we don’t have to,” Sirius tells you gently, “but it would be sort of odd for us not to be somewhat affectionate.”

The last thing he wants to do is make you feel uncomfortable. But there’s a rush of exhilaration at the thought of holding you close and calling you pet names that were once off-limits. And the thought of possibly kissing you?

Surviving that would be inconceivable for him.

“You’re right,” You nod. “Let’s just start off slow. It will be weird if we’re all over each other today when we didn’t even sit together yesterday.”

“Yeah, yeah! Flirt, be a little touchy, throw some cute pet names in here, will you, Sirius?” James calls out with great enthusiasm. You send him a look that you hope he understands as shut the fuck up. He doesn’t acknowledge your discomfort. Instead, he makes a heart shape with his hands, which adds to your annoyance.

Sirius presses a quick kiss to your temple, “Fuck off, mate. I know how to flirt with my girlfriend, right baby?” You freeze, your eyes widening in disbelief, while the boys laugh at your reaction. How exactly were you supposed to survive this?

You fall into a comfortable silence, happy to enjoy your breakfast as James issues his warnings to the boys, ensuring they behave themselves. Remus, with a subtle eye roll, acknowledges James’s words while Peter nods emphatically in agreement. While, Sirius simply outlines every embarrassing memory he plans to share with Lily.

“Y/n, get your man in check.” James complains in mock irritation, throwing a grape at Sirius, who dodges it.

“Good morning.” Lily greets quietly. You all turn to see her approaching, her expression a mix of embarrassment and hesitance, as if she’s debating whether to turn around and go to her usual spot down the table.

James abruptly stands up, his hip thumping into the table. He stifles a wince, trying to maintain his composure as he greets Lily, who tries unsuccessfully to suppress a smile at his reaction. Remus cringes and turns back to his breakfast, unable to look at James.

“Y’ready for this?” Sirius leans in, his voice lowered to a hushed tone meant only for you, effectively pulling you away from eavesdropping on James and Lily’s conversation. You glance up at him, surprised to find you’re a mere inches away from him.

You’re so close that you could individually count each of his eyelashes if you wanted.

You still feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours, creating an intimate connection between the both of you.

It feels like a magnetic pull draws you closer, tempting you to tilt your head forward and touch his lips with yours. The urge to kiss him is so strong that it nearly knocks the breath from your lungs.

You clear your throat, attempting to push the thought from your mind. “I think so. We’re newly dating, so don’t go overboard with it.” You remind him, a gentle smile playing on your lips.

“When have I ever gone overboard with anything in my life?” The smile he gives you is teasing, and it makes your heart pound to have him this close, his eyes sparkling as he smiles at you.

You hum softly in response, “I can think of quite a few times.”

His voice carries a flirtatious tone, “Can you?”

“Good morning, Lily.” Peter’s gentle voice steals your attention away from Sirius. Disappointment and longing settle in his stomach as he watches you pull away and turn to greet Lily, that sweet smile now directed at her.

Lily settles between Peter and James. For a quick second, you feel a pang of jealousy because that’s your spot. But when you notice James’s pink cheeks and flustered expression, you forget all about it. All you want for James is for him to be happy, and having Lily near seems to do just that.

Breakfast goes smoothly. Lily fits seamlessly into your group, and you can tell it makes James giddy. He doesn’t even mind not getting to talk to Lily much. He simply enjoys seeing the girl he’s so hopelessly infatuated with getting along so well with his best friends.

You and Sirius aren’t acting much differently than you normally do, just sitting close to each other and chatting. However, when Lily turns to you and Sirius, a wave of nervousness washes over you.

“I was so excited to hear you guys were together!”

“Oh yeah? So you can finally go for James with a clear conscience?” Sirius grins, teasing Lily, who looks thoroughly embarrassed. You nudge Sirius in the side, and he responds by giving your hip a gentle squeeze. James sends Sirius an incredulous look, which he pointedly ignores. While Remus and Peter chuckle at the playful banter.

Lily tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and clears her throat; her cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. “Uh, no, just that you two have obviously had feelings for each other for years. Everyone knew.”

You’re at a loss for words. Is that really what people thought? Clearly, they read you right, but you weren’t sure what to think about Sirius having feelings for you. Maybe he did, or maybe they were mistaking it for how he constantly flirted with you. But that was just how Sirius was; it didn’t necessarily mean he had romantic feelings for you.

“Haven’t gotten her out of my head since the day I met her.” Sirius says casually, his right elbow resting on the table as he pops a piece of bacon into his mouth. His other arm remains securely wrapped around your waist, holding you close to his side with a gentle yet firm embrace.

You look at him in shock, your eyes widening at his unexpected confession. Even the boys look slightly startled at Sirius’ words, their eyes darting between you and him.

“That’s so sweet.” Lily says softly, her eyes glowing with genuine happiness as she sends you a warm smile. The sight tugs at your heartstrings but also stirs up guilt in the pit of your stomach. Lying always made you feel uneasy like a weight was pressing down on your chest.

“Sirius, I can’t believe you thought that she—“Lily begins, her voice trailing off as James interjects, his interruption tinged with a hint of urgency.

“Okay, love! I think I should walk you to class, don’t y’think?” James stands up from the table, extending his hand towards Lily.

Lily looks slightly confused, but she takes his hand nonetheless. As they walk away, James glances back and sends a wink in Sirius’ direction. Your attention immediately shifts to Sirius, curiosity written all over your face as you’re about to ask about Lily’s interrupted comment.

Sirius cuts you off before you can ask, shaking his head with a gentle smile and flushed cheeks, “Don’t even bother asking; I’m not telling you what she was talking about.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You’re curled up next to Peter on the common room couch, both of you chatting quietly together. For the last twenty minutes, he has been feeding you details about the Ravenclaw girl he has a crush on. He’s sworn you to secrecy. Hoping for your advice on asking her out without enduring the teasing of the rest of the Marauders. Your gasp of excitement nearly gives away the secret, but you quickly compose yourself, offering a reassuring smile to Peter.

“Who is she?” You ask, excitement laced in your voice, but Peter sends you an apprehensive look.

“I’m going to keep that to myself. Your squeal almost let the boys know..” He teases, though his tone also carries a note of seriousness.

A laugh escapes you, “I promise when you’re ready to tell me I’ll be so careful about keeping it a secret.”

“Oi! Are you two sharing secrets over there?” James calls out, his voice immensely curious. He’s sat with his back to the flickering flames, his palms flat against the floor as he leans back on them. Peter tenses beside you, but you maintain an easy smile. Remus and Sirius are lounging in the armchairs nearby, their attention piqued by the exchange.

“All my deepest darkest secrets.” You tease, flashing James a grin. He furrows his brow and sits up, clearly riled up by your response.

“Y/n, as your best friend, I better know all these secrets.” James lips are pouted, his expression tinged with a hint of concern, as if he’s genuinely worried that you and Peter are sharing secrets that he doesn’t know.

James has always been fiercely protective of your friendship. Despite being close to the boys, your bond with James was stronger. There was nothing that the two of you didn’t confide in each other; he honestly did know all your secrets.

“You do.” You smile reassuringly, and James’s expression breaks into a satisfied grin.

The boys continue their soft conversation by the crackling fire, the warm glow casting flickering shadows across the room, while you and Peter sit in comfortable silence. Both of you are lost in thought as you relax in the cozy atmosphere.

After stifling a good five yawns, you glance at the time and decide it’s probably best to head to your room, the quiet of the common room signaling just how late it had gotten.

You inch closer to Peter, before finding the courage to lean over and envelop him in a friendly hug, your arms wrapping around his shoulders.

He’s momentarily taken aback, his body tenses at your touch, but soon he relaxes, reciprocating by wrapping you in his arms. It’s a gesture that feels somewhat out of character for you, but after he trusted you with his secret, it seems like the most natural thing to do, a silent affirmation of support for him.

“I think I’m going to go to bed.” You tell him softly, “But I promise we’ll talk more tomorrow.”

“I’d like that.” He smiles at you as you pull away. You grab your bag and make your way in the direction of the stairs.

“Goodnight boys!” You call out softly over your shoulder before disappearing up the stairs. Sirius watches you go, his gaze lingering on your figure, his thoughts full of you long after you’ve left the room.

Ever since you moved to hug Peter, his eyes have been on you, curiosity and jealousy settling in his stomach.

“Why the hell did you get a hug?” Sirius asks, his tone laced with bitterness as his gaze shifts to Peter, who appears taken aback by Sirius’ sudden question. Remus and James exchange amused glances, before they refocus their attention on Peter, waiting expectantly for an explanation to ease the tension.

“I don’t know, she just hugged me.” Peter squirms uncomfortably in his seat, his confidence quickly dwindling as he’s put on the spot.

Sirius nods slowly, his lips pursing in contemplation. His carefully measured tone betrays the longing and a hint of possessiveness that he struggles to conceal, “What were you guys talking about over there?”

Remus interjects with a teasing tone, “Careful, Pads. You sound jealous.” A playful glint dances in his eyes as he notices Sirius’ furrowed brows and the discontent on his face.

“He’s got the boyfriend role down.” James quips, and Sirius sends them both a glare.

“I’m not jealous,” Sirius repeats quite grumpily. “I just don’t understand why Peter got a hug, and we didn’t.”

James barks out a laugh while Remus shakes his head, a chuckle escaping him in sheer disbelief.

“You’re jealous because you have feelings for her.” James states matter-of-factly.

Sirius begins to shake his head in denial, but Remus promptly interjects, his voice firm and unwavering, “’ Haven’t gotten her out of my head since the day I met her.’ What the fuck was that then?” Remus repeats Sirius’ words from the other day, perfectly mimicking his tone.

James bursts into laughter, the sound hearty and infectious, while Peter offers a small smile, observing Sirius as he struggles to respond.

“Not to mention, you’ve been staring Peter down ever since Y/n touched him.” Remus remarks while Sirius gazes blankly at him, his expression unreadable as he nervously chews on his bottom lip.

“You really have.” Peter adds with a grimace.

“You like her, mate.” Remus concludes, his words carrying a sense of finality that lingers in the air.

Sirius sighs heavily.

The conversation weighs heavily on him as he sinks down in the armchair, his brow furrowed in deep thought. The boys’ words replay in his mind. He was jealous, and he did like you. He already knew all of this. But he had always been cautious around you, mindful of the unspoken boundaries because of your friendship with James. A nagging worry in the back of his mind that James would be against any relationship between the two of you. James was his greatest friend, and he worried he could lose him if he attempted to go for you. The idea of James being unfazed by a romantic relationship between you and Sirius threw him off balance. It vastly differed from the scenarios he had envisioned, where James would react with fierce anger upon learning of Sirius’ affection for you. The realization left Sirius feeling torn. Did that mean he could actually go for you?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

As the air is warm and balmy, birdsong emanating from the trees while the leaves rustle in the gentle breeze. The sun casts everything in a golden haze, letting you know summer is near. The boys are certain of their decision: today is the perfect day to spend at the lake.

Laughter and chatter echo across the shimmering waters as the boys swim around the lake, reaching where you’re draped over a soft towel next to Lily. You have been trading gossip back and forth for the last couple of hours. It’s refreshing since usually you’re glued to the boys’ sides. You were constantly in the company of at least one of the four.

You feel a twinge of regret in your chest, realizing you haven’t made an effort to have a close friendship with the girls. And you really should have. It wasn’t a deliberate choice; James had always been your go-to person. Then, when you met the boys, you naturally formed close bonds with them, too. The thought of branching out and making more friends never really crossed your mind.

Though you value your friendships with the boys, you decide you desperately need to spend more time with the girls. The possibility of James and Lily getting together has you hopeful.

“You realize Sirius can’t take his eyes off you, right?” You choose to remain silent, only giving a shrug, fully aware that Sirius is merely pretending to be in love with you. To his credit, he’s played the part convincingly throughout the entire week. There have been moments when you’ve found yourself questioning the authenticity of his actions, wondering whether his affection is genuine or merely his acting skills.

For someone who hasn’t had much practice with relationships, he possessed an innate ability to treat you like you were the only girl in his world. Whether it was a reassuring hand on your lower back as you maneuvered through the crowded halls, a tender kiss planted on your forehead when you parted ways, or the subtle exchange of flirty smiles whenever your eyes met across the room.

Sirius’ laughter drifts over from the lake, reaching your ears, and a subconscious smile graces your lips. Lily must have seen your reaction, “Merlin, you really like him, don’t you?”

It was driving you to the brink of obsession. If this was the experience of being Sirius’ girl, you wanted it more than before.

Despite your efforts to contain it, a sigh slips from your lips, “Yeah, I really do.”

Confessing this feels uncomfortable. You’ve never talked to anyone about the depth of your feelings for Sirius, and now you’re doing so under the guise of a fake relationship. You had come close to telling James, but you really didn’t need to. He had an uncanny ability to read you like an open book. Guilt churns in your stomach once more as you think about lying to Lily. What will her reaction be when you reveal that you and Sirius were never actually together?

The silence lingers for a few moments before you gently break it, “What were you about to say at breakfast the other day? Before James interrupted?”

Lily’s expression shifts from confusion to excitement, her eyes lighting up, “Oh, in Charms! I finally wrangled it out of Sirius that he had feelings for you. But he insisted that nothing was ever going to happen because you didn’t like him back.”

It feels like you’ve been plunged into a tub of cold water. Your mind goes momentarily blank, a surge of disbelief flooding your senses as you struggle to comprehend Lily’s words. Your body freezes in place, grappling with what this could possibly mean. There’s no possible way you heard her correctly.

“What? When was this?” Your voice escapes breathless and startled, yet Lily appears oblivious to it.

“Just a couple of weeks ago! I’m so glad he finally told you how he felt.” Lily smiles sweetly before laying back on her towel. If she notices you’re in a state of shock, she doesn’t say anything.

You hear a whistle, and no surprise, your best friend throws himself between you and Lily, “Don’t you two look pretty!”

Lily gasps as James leans down, playfully pressing his lips against her cheek, his hair dripping water onto her. Though she protests, you both can tell she doesn’t truly mind it.

As James and Lily become wrapped up in their own world, you find yourself drifting back to the conversation from a moment ago. Your mind spins, still muddled by Lily’s words. Sirius had feelings for you. Why hadn’t he spoken up? Did he not want anything to come of it?

Your heart nearly stops when Sirius drops down and hovers over you, his hands propping him up on either side of your head. You barely register that he’s shirtless and above you just before icy water cascades from his hair onto your skin. A startled cry escapes you as the cold droplets trickle down your cheeks, tracing a chilling path along your neck and chest.

“Sirius Black!” You had intended to sound angry, but laughter slips past your lips, betraying your emotions. Sirius grins at your reaction, his eyes trailing down from your eyes to shamelessly check out the bikini top you have on.

The boys had been teasing him relentlessly after witnessing how he practically fell to his knees when you walked into the common room wearing a bikini top and tiny denim shorts. You were oblivious to his gaze, heading straight for Lily and conversing about who knows what.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you all day.

He feigns ignorance as you whine at him, responding with a sweet smile instead, “What?”

“Get off!” You squeal, though your tone lacks any real irritation. Deep down, you’re secretly enjoying having him so close, enveloping you in his presence.

“Whatever you want, sweet girl.” He mutters as he rolls off of you, repositioning himself so he’s sitting behind you. With a gentle tap on your shoulder, he prompts you to sit up, then guides you until your back hits his chest. Once you’re settled, he loosely wraps his arms around your shoulders before placing a kiss on your head.

Remus catches your eye as he and Peter make their way to their towels. Unlike Sirius and James, they hadn’t hurried over to you and Lily. Instead, they took their time, chatting lazily while the sun warmed their skin. Remus sends you a sly, suggestive glance, and you respond by narrowing your eyes at him playfully.

Sirius and Remus engage in their own conversation, their voices blending into the background as Peter gestures for you to follow him. Sirius protests lightly, his eyes following you as you pull away from him to walk down to the lake with Peter.

You’re gone for no more than twenty minutes, offering Peter advice on establishing a friendship with the girl he likes, perhaps making it easier for him to ask her out in the future.

Despite Remus’ attempts to draw him back into the conversation, Sirius remains preoccupied, his gaze fixed on you until you eventually return and settle onto the towel beside him, seeking the familiar comfort of his presence. Only then does Sirius relax, draping his arm around you protectively.

He despises the twinge of jealousy that creeps in every time Peter has you to himself.

“Mate, you’re fucked.” Remus chuckles, and you assume it’s due to something amusing said during their conversation. Sirius simply rolls his eyes and playfully extends his middle finger in Remus’ direction, a gesture of mock annoyance that elicits a smirk from both of them.

The rest of the afternoon is spent wrapped up in Sirius as you chat with your friends and bask in the sun.

You spend the remainder of the afternoon draped over Sirius, basking in the warmth of the sun as you chat with your friends. It’s been a while since you’ve felt so at ease.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

After lounging by the lake all afternoon, the thought of cleaning up for a party you had little interest in attending felt like an unnecessary chore. However, after an hour of James’ persistent pleading, you eventually gave in and agreed to go. You were confused about why he insisted on your presence, especially when he’d be busy spending the evening with Lily. You couldn’t help but think you could have been snug in bed with a good book instead.

“How long do you think it will take before they get together?” You turn to Remus, who is leaning against the wall next to you. He wasn’t thrilled about coming tonight, either. The full moon was approaching, and he could already feel the effects beginning to take hold.

You scan the bustling room, eager to catch a glimpse of James and determine Lily’s proximity. Impatience simmers within you as you wait for them to get together. Their relationship seems overdue, and you’re desperate for it to happen, bringing an end to the relationship you and Sirius are forced to maintain. Though being Sirius’ girlfriend has its perks, the artificiality of the situation weighs on your conscience.

After a lazy afternoon enveloped in Sirius’ arms, you had returned to your room feeling unsettled. The comfort of being held by Sirius felt genuine, yet it was all fake, and that realization deeply unsettles you. The longer this relationship goes on, the more you worry about your heart being left in pieces at the end.

“Probably any day now. Why? You aren’t having fun being Sirius’ girl?” Remus asks, casting a knowing smirk in your direction. You huff and give him a playful nudge, causing his drink to slosh around in his cup. He chuckles in response, amused by your reaction.

“It’s not that, and you know it.” You respond, frustration evident in your tone.

Remus turns towards you, a genuine smile on his face this time, “You guys are doing quite the job of looking infatuated with each other.”

You shoot him a warning look, sensing where the conversation is headed.

But Remus persists, his gaze steady, “You should consider telling him how you feel.”

You scoff. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not? What have you got to lose?”

You meet his gaze, incredulous, “Our friendship, for starters.”

Remus shakes his head, “Do you really think Sirius would end your friendship? I doubt you could get rid of him if you tried.”

You meet Remus’s gaze, your brow furrowed with uncertainty, “Okay, maybe he wouldn’t end our friendship. But things would definitely get awkward, and who knows where it could lead.”

Remus offers a small smile, “Or it could go well. You could end up together.”

You remain silent, the weight of Remus’s words sinking in as you contemplate the idea of confessing your feelings to Sirius. Your stomach churns with anxiety at the mere thought of opening up to him. The fear of rejection and the potential fallout from confessing weighs heavy on your chest.

But Lily had shared with you that Sirius had opened up about his feelings for you. Maybe there was a possibility that confessing your own feelings might not be as far-fetched as you had assumed. Maybe being with Sirius wasn’t entirely out of reach.

Remus observes the slight furrow in your brow as you chew on your bottom lip, a clear indication of your spiraling thoughts. The dim light of the common room highlights the unease on your face. “Do you want a drink?” He offers, his voice gentle and reassuring.

You pause, considering his offer, grateful for the distraction, “Yes, please.” You respond with a small smile, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly.

As Remus leaves to fetch you a drink, you’re left alone with your thoughts, the chatter and laughter of the crowded common room serving as a backdrop to your contemplation. Your eyes wander over the sea of bodies, each occupied with their own conversations and activities, creating a lively yet chaotic atmosphere.

“Y/n, hi!” You startle as Max Townsend stands beside you, his sudden presence catching you off guard. You recall being partners in Charms a couple of weeks ago, but beyond that, your interactions had been limited.

“Hey, Max.” You greet with a soft smile, noticing how his shoulders relax slightly at your acknowledgment. He settles against the wall, his posture casual yet attentive, as if genuinely interested in chatting with you.

“I know we haven’t talked much since Charms, but I’ve been meaning to catch up with you.” Max says, his voice earnest as he breaks the silence between you.

You’re surprised by his remark, “You have?” You ask, genuine curiosity coloring your tone.

“Yeah! I enjoyed spending time with you.” Max admits, his voice slightly shaky as he offers you a shy smile. You notice the faint blush coloring his cheeks, a sign of nervousness.

“I enjoyed spending time with you too! I don’t think I could have passed the last exam without your help.” You respond sincerely, returning his smile with warmth. His face lights up at your words, visibly relieved.

He regains some confidence and continues, “Actually, Y/n, I was wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade sometime?”

Your smile falters, and you feel a pang of guilt. You have the excuse of having a boyfriend, at least. It makes things a little easier for you. For a second, you debate if you should say yes, go on a date, and move past your feelings for Sirius. But then you think about Lily’s words and how he might possibly like you back. Not only that but you’re supposed to be in a relationship right now.

You can’t bring yourself to say yes; truth be told, you don’t really want to, anyway.

“That’s really sweet of you to ask. But I’m dating Sirius.” You reply though the words feel heavy on your tongue, wishing they were true.

Max looks taken aback, “Sirius Black?”

“Yes.” You confirm, feeling a wave of discomfort wash over you; turning someone down is always an awkward and uncomfortable experience.

Max shakes his head, looking confused, “I didn’t know Sirius-“

“You didn’t know what, Townsend?” Sirius looks hard at him, slipping his arm around your waist and handing you a drink. “Here, baby, Rem said you wanted a drink.”

You thank him quietly, settling into his side with ease. Glancing up at him, you notice Sirius isn’t looking at you; his gaze is fixed on Max. His jaw clenches tightly, and his usual friendly smile is absent. The message to Max is clear: back off, she’s mine.

Max looks uneasy, eyes darting from you to Sirius, “Uh, I didn’t know you and Y/n were together.”

“And why were you talking about that?”

“Uh,” Max looks at you briefly, his expression tinged with panic. He lets out a sigh, reminiscent of a child caught in the act and resigned to confessing. “I asked her out.”

Sirius’ entire body tenses, his tone laced with mock curiosity, “Did you?”

He feels sick at the thought of you going on a date with another guy. Images flash through his mind – Max holding your hand on a walk through Hogsmeade, flirting with you over dinner, and the possibility of him kissing you goodnight before you head back through the portrait at the end of the night.

A surge of intense emotion floods him, an overwhelming desire to lash out, to throw a punch and convey the unmistakable message that you are off-limits.

But then the reality hits him: you’re not off limits. You’re perfectly single, and maybe you actually wanted to go out with Max. The realization sinks in, gnawing at him from the inside, intensifying the ache in his chest.

“But look, man, I didn’t know she was your girl! Honest.”

“Max, it’s okay. Really.” You interject gently, offering him a reassuring smile. Max nods frantically, clearly relieved, before hurrying off in the opposite direction and disappearing into the crowd of Gryffindors.

“What the hell was that?” You turn to Sirius, but he refuses to meet your gaze. Instead, he drops his arm from your waist and leans back against the wall, taking a long sip from his drink, his expression unreadable.

“Playing the part of your boyfriend. You should go find James, he was looking for you.” His mutterings reach your ears, and your stomach clenches with irritation as hurt flashes over your features. He’s never shut down before you, and it hurts your feelings deeply.

You don’t bother saying anything; instead, you scoff and walk away. Sirius’s eyes follow you the second you leave, watching as you walk away with a heavy feeling settling in his stomach.

Maybe he did need to express his feelings to you. There might be a chance that you felt the same way. And if you didn’t, at least he would know and could attempt to move on from you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“I think you need to check on Sirius.” James murmurs into your ear as you stand in the common room, waiting for Lily to join you. You’re flanked by the boys, but Sirius is conspicuously absent.

You glance over at him, confused, “Why? Is he not coming down?”

“He bailed, said he isn’t feeling good.”

“He isn’t coming to Hogsmeade with us?” You all had meticulously planned your trip to Hogsmeade during the lake outing yesterday, discussing the shops you wanted to visit and the Butterbeer you couldn’t wait to taste.

“Oh,” You mutter, “I’ll check on him and catch up with you guys then.”

You still harbor concern for his well-being, a lingering sense of care that remains despite the the frustration you feel about last night. You ascend the stairs, faintly catching Peter’s inquiry about your destination and James’ response that you won’t be joining them anymore. You contemplate turning around, half-tempted to inquire with James about his statement, but decided against it, choosing not to waste your energy.

You’re so deeply immersed in your thoughts as you walk through the hall that you don’t even notice the sound at first.

The muffled noise filtering through the boys’dorm door catches your attention, causing you to pause in front of the door. You briefly entertain the idea that Sirius might be genuinely unwell, but skepticism lingers in your mind. The persistent groans don’t quite fit the pattern of someone who’s just sick.

You were on the verge of turning around, genuinely considering it, until you caught a muffled moan that distinctly sounded like your name.

You pause, questioning the authenticity of what you just heard, wondering if it was a figment of your imagination or if you truly heard your name. But then you hear it, “Fuck, Y/n. Feels so good.”

Your legs turn to jelly, the words coursing through your veins like an electric shock, leaving you feeling stunned and breathless.

Without a second thought or even a plan forming in your mind, you find yourself knocking on the door. Inside, you hear a muffled curse followed by shuffling before Sirius swings the door open nearly a minute later, clad only in pajama pants. His hair is tousled, his cheeks flushed, and he’s breathing heavily. The surprise on his face is evident as he takes in your unexpected presence.

“What were you just doing?” Your words spill out more confrontationally than you intended, catching Sirius off guard. The surprise flickers across his face, evident in how his eyebrows knit together and his eyes widen slightly.

“Uh, I-” He glances back into his room, searching for a believable excuse among his belongings. Flustered, he struggles to come up with a convincing lie.

“Sirius,” You press, and his eyes flicker back to you. He appears guilty, aware that you’ve caught on. “I just heard you.”You add, your tone that is firm but not accusatory.

“Merlin, Y/n. I’m sorry I-” He stammers, his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach at the mere thought of you possibly feeling disgusted with him or worse, refusing to remain his friend because of what he’s just done.

“What were you thinking about?” You ask instead, taking a deliberate step closer to him. The room feels charged with tension, and you can sense Sirius’s unease. His breath hitches as your presence draws nearer, his eyes flickering with a mix of apprehension and anticipation.

He glances over your shoulder, his gaze flicking to the empty hallway outside before he answers, “You.”

“Me?” You take a tentative step closer, your voice barely a whisper compared to before, its tone huskier, laden with curiosity and perhaps a hint of intrigue. You fix him with a daring look, a glint of challenge in your eye, as if silently daring him to take action.

He remains silent, his gaze fixed on you for a fleeting moment before he takes action, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the dorm without a word.

As soon as the door shuts, he presses you against the door, his movements swift and urgent. You let out a gasp in surprise, feeling the sudden shift in atmosphere as Sirius’s intensity envelops you. His eyes, usually filled with mischief, now bore into yours with a mixture of seriousness and vulnerability.

“Y/n. Why did you knock on the door?”

You don’t answer at first, your eyes locked with his for a few heartbeats before you let out a sigh, “Because I heard you say my name, and now I know you want me the same way that I’ve always wanted you.”

Sirius doesn’t hesitate, his lips meeting yours with a sense of urgency that sends a shiver down your spine. The moment his touch connects with yours, you exhale softly, feeling the warmth of his lips against yours. With gentle pressure, you draw him closer, your arms wrapping around his shoulders while Sirius’ embrace envelops you, pulling you closer as if he never wants to let go.

He initiates with a tender kiss on your lips, then gently nibbles on your bottom lip, eliciting a gasp. Seizing the opportunity of your parted lips, he intensifies the kiss, pressing forcefully into your mouth. Sirius kisses you as if each moment is the first and last time, molding you into pliancy. You willingly surrender, allowing him to kiss you into a state of blissful oblivion.

As he withdraws, a soft whimper escapes your lips in protest. He casts a questioning glance your way as he lifts the hem of your shirt, and you respond with a nod of affirmation. Slowly, he peels it off of you and lets it drop at your feet. Shamelessly, he admires your breasts and how they sit so pretty in your black bra. For a moment, the thought of apologizing for the simple garment crosses your mind, but the way his gaze lingers on you halts any inclination to do so.

He leans down, pressing kisses and nipping at the exposed skin on your neck and trailing his way down to your chest. It steals your breath away, prompting you to weave your fingers through his hair as you tilt your head back, reveling in the sensation. He’s murmuring praises against your skin, ranting about how beautiful you are, how sweet your moans are, and how you drive him crazy. Your heart pounds within your chest, and for an instant, you fear its thunderous rhythm might betray you, considering how near he stands.

“Take it off.” In a hushed tone, you speak, prompting Sirius’s gaze to swiftly rise and lock with yours.

He encircles you with his arms, quickly undoing your bra, and you deftly push the straps down, allowing the garment to cascade down, unveiling your skin. Swiftly, you toss it into the growing pile that appears to be taking shape by the door.

Sirius gazes intently, his bottom lip captured between his teeth, and a subtle furrow forms between his eyebrows, “Fucking hell, y’have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen.”

Before you can utter a word, his mouth is on your breasts. Pressing the softest kisses onto your nipple before gently biting it, causing your breath to hitch. He bends down, mirroring the gesture with the other one.

His hands, possessively grip at your hips, act as anchors, momentarily keeping you in place. However, a growing restlessness takes hold, and you start to squirm, a subtle plea for more of his attention. Silently comprehending your unspoken desire, he wordlessly responds. A gentle tug on your hand is all the communication needed, and without a moment’s hesitation, you obediently follow his lead.

Guiding you, he directs you to settle onto his bed, a silent request you readily heed. Your legs dangle over the edge of the bed as you rely on your elbows to bear all your weight.

Sirius kneels in front of you, easily slipping off both of your shoes and tossing them to the side. He reaches up, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your skirt before tugging it down and off of your legs. You’re left in a pair of gray panties that easily show how soaked you are for him.

He pushes on your knees until your legs are completely spread for him, and he can get a clear view of your soaked underwear. A hushed curse escapes his lips, the words slipping out quietly as his gaze lingers on you.

“You’re fucking stunning. I don’t know what I did to deserve this. To deserve you.” You bask in his words, your body thrumming with warmth and delight as his sweet sentiments wash over you.

He glances up at you, and he nearly loses it right then and there. You’re watching him through hooded eyes, your pupils dilated wide, a silent reflection of your anticipation and desire. He doubts he could ever erase the image of the way you’re gazing at him, etching it into his memory with the fervent wish to witness it for the rest of his days.

He caresses his hands along your thighs, fingers gently squeezing and kneading with each pass. Occasionally, he leans down, planting tender kisses on your sensitive skin, each one a whispered promise of affection. The closer he gets to your core, the more you squirm and let out soft whimpers.

“Can I take your panties off?” He asks, glancing up at you from between your thighs. The pad of his thumb brushes against your clit, and you jolt in surprise.

A gasp escapes your lips as you’re overtaken by the sensation, yet swiftly, you find yourself nodding frantically in response, “Please.”

Overrun with desperation, Sirius pulls at them with such fervor that they nearly tear as he tugs them off. You can’t help but giggle at his fervor, amused by his frantic actions and the unmistakable look of pure desire written across his face. He wouldn’t be surprised if he was drooling, staring the sight of your glistening pussy.

“I want to be inside of you.” He declares, standing up from the floor, leaning over you to firmly grasp your jaw before capturing your lips in a heady, intoxicating kiss. The moan that escapes you sounds so foreign, so unlike yourself, that it catches you by surprise, leaving you momentarily taken aback. You don’t bother vying for dominance, allowing him to take control of the kiss. He withdraws from you leaving your chest heaving and breaths coming in ragged gasps.

“Take your pants off.” You demand, reaching desperately for the band of his pajamas to shove them off. Sirius beats you to the task, swiftly shoving them off himself in a display of impatience.

“Sirius.” Drool pools in your mouth at the sight of him. Long, thick, and pretty. Your lips part slightly, and you look up at Sirius in surprise, caught off guard by him. For a fleeting moment, you sit there, eyes locked, contemplating whether you’ll be able to take him or not. He’s bigger than anyone you have ever been with before.

Sirius doesn’t let you stare for too long before his fingers are sliding through your soaked folds and brushing over your clit. Whimpers and moans tumble past your lips as Sirius rubs firm circles over you to get you adjusted before dipping down and pressing two fingers into you. A cry escapes you at the intrusion, and your hand instinctively reaches down to grip his bicep firmly.

Sirius startles you by leaning down and pressing the softest kiss to your clit, before licking you the bundle of nerves softly. Your body tenses with pleasure, hands gripping the sheets beneath you.

“I’ve always wanted to taste you.” He confesses a surge of heat courses through your body, igniting every nerve ending as you absorb his words. He doesn’t waste another second before leaning down and gently sucking on your clit.

“Please don’t stop.” You plead softly, and Sirius complies, continuing with unwavering determination. He nips and sucks, licking through your folds and holding your thighs open for him. His fingers continue to slide in and out of you; the sounds you’re making are obscene.

You’re struck by the thojught that this doesn’t compare to any other times that you’ve been eaten out. But maybe it’s not just his technique that feels good; it might be the fact that its Sirius who’s between your legs.

Your thighs tremble, and a euphoric sensation begins to build up in your stomach, making it feel like you are floating on a delightful high.

“Sirius, I need you.” You gasp sharply, your fingers instinctively tugging on his hair, signaling for him to ease up. You wanted to come together for your first time, as cheesy as it may have been.

As he rises to his feet, your eyes meet, and contagious, goofy smiles spread across both of your faces. In this shared moment, a mutual understanding passes between you—acknowledging the absurdity of the situation yet reveling in the fact that there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

You watch as he wraps his hand around himself, dragging his hand up and down a few times. He whispers for you to scoot back until your head rests against the pillow, and with a gentle nod, you comply. He follows suit, settling on his haunches before you, creating a comforting, intimate space between you both.

“Y’ready?” He asks in a hushed tone, leaning in to hover over you, and at that moment, a rush of memories floods your mind, reminiscent of yesterday by the lake. You’re convinced you must look rather pathetic with the speed of your nod, but Sirius only responds with a sweet smile.

With a grip on his cock, he slides the tip through your slick, both of you sucking in a breath at the sensation. He gently pushes at your entrance. Sirius steals a glance up at you, silently seeking reassurance, and you respond with a simple nod and a warm smile, letting him know that everything is perfect. Sirius catches you off guard as he leans down, tenderly pressing the gentlest of kisses to your lips, a gesture filled with unexpected sweetness.

His gaze shifts, watching as he pushes his cock inside of you, letting out a string of curses as your pussy grips him tight, pulling him deeper inside.

“Fuck,” Gritting his teeth, he squeezes his eyes shut, breathing deeply through his nose, determined to regain control and prevent himself from losing composure. He’s sitting fully inside you, and he has to take a breather because you feel better than he could have ever imagined. The last thing he wants is for this to end as soon as it begins.

His voice sounds utterly shattered, “You’re so wet, fuck.”

You entwine your fingers in his hair, feeling the soft strands between your fingertips as you pull him closer, urging him to meet your lips with his own. The anticipation builds as his warm breath mingles with yours, creating an intimate connection before the gentle press of his lips against yours. Parting your lips, you deepen the kiss, and Sirius eagerly reciprocated.

“Sirius. Fuck me, please.” You exhale softly against his lips, and Sirius responds with a low, guttural groan of longing and desire.

He doesn’t waste any time before dragging his cock along the sensitive walls of your pussy, before thrusting back into you, “God, your pussy feels incredible.” The cry that escapes you resonates loudly in the room, and you’re immensely grateful that everyone is out at Hogsmeade. The absence of others allows you the freedom to be as uninhibited as you are, knowing that the full dorms would never afford you the same level of privacy and volume.

“Feels so good.” You gasp, head rolling to the side, your cheek resting against the pillows. Sirius’ hands rest against the back of your thighs, holding your legs against your chest, giving a clear view of the way his cock is so seamlessly slipping inside of you.

He watches you, transfixed on the way your brows pinch together in pleasure, lips parting to let moans slip past. It’s as if a dam has burst within Sirius, an unstoppable torrent of words and emotions pouring forth as he finds himself unable to contain everything he’s been holding back.

“Fuck, you sound s’pretty, sweet girl,” The groan that leaves his lips is downright sinful. “Thought about this pretty pussy all day. Pretended to be sick just to get off to the thought of you.”

“Sirius.” You whine, reaching out to thread your fingers through his hair and pull him down to you. You’re soaked and aching, desperate for Sirius to fuck you faster. However, much to your disappointment, he remains insistent on maintaining a slow, teasing pace.

“Pictured tugging that fucking bikini top down. Watching your tits bounce while I fuck you. Fuck, cumming all over them.” The whine that escapes you feels pathetic, and under different circumstances, you would’ve been embarrassed by it. However, given the situation you’re in, embarrassment takes a backseat.

“I know, baby. I know.” He complies, adjusting his position so that his right arm supports him above you while his left hand gently traces your skin. Brushing over your nipples, trailing up and over your tits, before placing his hand loosely around the base of your throat.

“You’re fucking perfect,” He grunts, admiring how ruined you look for him. Your mascara smudged beneath your eyes from tears, and your lips swollen from his earlier kisses. He loved seeing you like this. Being the one to ruin you, to smudge your makeup and bring you to tears. “Taking my cock s’well.”

You’re incoherent, begging for Sirius to go harder, to fuck you faster. Hands pawing at his ass, desperately trying to bring him closer.

His hand squeezes your throat gently, “Tell me you want me to fuck you harder. C’mon love, wanna hear you beg for it.”

A smug grin tugs on Sirius’ lips as he watches you struggling to form words. You’re getting close if the way you’re squeezing him so tight and rolling your hips is any indicator.

But then a desperate, needy whine with the words he so badly wants to hear slips past your lips. Babbling about needing his cock and wanting him to ruin you. The second he hears your pleas, he thrusts into you harder, setting a brutal new pace that has you crying for him.

“I’ll give you anything you ask for, m’love.” He speaks so sincerely that you feel a surge of emotions welling up inside, an overwhelming urge threatening to bring tears to your eyes.

Overcome with your emotions, you reach for Sirius’ hand and interlace them together before Sirius presses your clasped hands into the sheets. His headboard thumps against the wall rhythmically.

“Need you to fill me up. Please.” You plead desperately, and Sirius curses, his voice rough and strained.

“Shit, that’s my girl. Want me to fill you with my cum?” It’s the praise that pushes you over the edge. Your back arches, pressing your breasts into Sirius’ chest and your legs tremble.

“Doing so good f’me.” He’s close behind you. Your tight, wet walls clenching around him is what does it for him.

“Fuck, baby. Gonna cum. Fuck.” Sirius moans, burying his head in the crook of your neck as his hips stutter and you cry out at the feeling of his warm cum filling you up. You clench his hand tightly, your nails likely leaving imprints on his skin. A sob escapes your lips, and your fingers weave through his hair, a desperate attempt to draw him closer.

You both remain entwined, lost in each other’s embrace as you gradually come down from the euphoric highs. The room resonates with the sound of your intertwined breaths, each one heavy and labored. Your body feels utterly slack, every muscle loosened, and you’re so relaxed that you could easily doze off at any moment.

Sirius presses a couple of tender kisses against your neck, eliciting a satisfied hum from you. When he withdraws from you, a wince escapes you as you feel the separation, and Sirius’ eyes dart up to you in concern.

“Y’okay, sweet girl?”

“I’m okay, just sore.” You grace him with a sweet smile, and Sirius leans in, gently pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

“Gonna get a towel, one second.” He assures you, rising from the bed and disappearing into the bathroom. You listen to the faucet running and the faint sounds of the cupboard opening and closing. Lying back, you gaze up at the ceiling, absently nibbling on your thumbnail until a smile breaks across your face at the thought of what just happened.

“Here, love.” Sirius says, sitting on the edge of the bed holding a washcloth in his hand. He’s got a fresh pair of pajamapants on, you didn’t even notice him grab clothes from his trunk, too lost in your thoughts.

Sirius gently grips your ankle, encouraging you to spread your legs. His breath hitches at the sight of his cum dripping out of you and onto his sheets, desperately hoping to see this sight again. He murmurs a curse under his breath, his touch gentle as he delicately uses the warm washcloth to clean between your thighs.

“There.” He whispers softly before aiding you to sit up. As you glance over, you notice the t-shirt and pajama pants laid out beside him, meant for you. Your heart swells with warmth as he assists you in slipping it over your head. With a grateful smile, you slide into the pajama pants. Meanwhile, Sirius utters evanesco to fix the sheets up, before joining you in bed.

“C’mere.” He beckons to you, sinking into the pillows, and you nestle against him, finding solace as you rest your head on his chest.

In the silence, you both relish the comfort of each other’s embrace, enveloped in a cocoon of intimacy. Lost in contemplation, your mind wanders, grappling with what just happened and what that meant for the both of you.

“That wasn’t just a one-time thing, was it?” You inquire, the hopefulness evident in your tone.

“No,” Sirius responds, tilting your chin so you can meet his gaze. “I want you to be mine, for real this time.”

The fluttering butterflies that dance through your stomach are overwhelming as you absorb his words. A lovesick grin spreads across your lips, unable to contain the rush of emotions coursing through you, “Then I’m all yours.”

You settle back into Sirius, and his arms hold you against him. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest beneath your head lull you into a serene state, the sound of his steady heartbeat serving as a soothing lullaby that guides you into a peaceful sleep.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“I’m sorry, so you asked us to fake it not for Lily, but for Sirius and I to get together?” You gaze at James, confused, knitting your brows, while he sits opposite you at the table. Remus and Sirius are absorbed in their own conversation, and Peter is having breakfast with the girl he harbors a crush on. Despite their current status as friends, Peter seems overjoyed nonetheless.

James grins, casting you a smug look. “I mean, Lily genuinely thought you and I were a thing. At first, it really was because Lily thought we were together, but then I realized that this was the perfect way to get you and Sirius together.”

“James! So you lied to us?” You huff in disbelief.

James shrugs nonchalantly, his demeanor radiating an air of casual indifference, “You already knew I lied to Lily; what’s the difference?”

You sigh softly, “That’s true, but what about you and Lily? Are you two getting together?”

James smiles, “We’ll get there eventually. This was more about you and Sirius. And before you start, yes, I’ll tell her the truth.” He sends you a pointed look, and you chuckle, already preparing to remind him to come clean to Lily.

“You’re certifiably insane.” You tease, exhaling a laugh.

“Well, it worked, didn’t it? You got the guy.” James watches with delight as a lovesick smile effortlessly graces your face before you steal a glance at Sirius.

“Oh, hey. Pick up your clothes next time you’re napping with Sirius,” He remarks casually, but the emphasis on the word napping lets you know that he’s fully aware there was more happening than just sleep. “My shoe got tangled in your bra.”

[celesteleoves]

hcs of bakugou / todoroki being a hardcore simp for reader maybe?

“I WANNA BE YOURS.”

KATSUKI BAKUGOU/SHOTO TODOROKI x fem!reader.

summary: what the request said!

warnings: swearing (bakugou…), mentions of todoroki’s childhood (very brief), that’s it i believe!

a/n: i love this request. i hope i wrote this to your liking!

—

BAKUGOU KATSUKI —

he is a very subtle simp. you probably wouldn’t even think he liked you if you guys weren’t already dating. the way he shows his love for you is… questionable.

he does the simple things like following you around like a lost puppy (even though he swears he does NOT) .

he’ll definitely demand you never leave his side so he can always be there to protect you.

“you’re so weak, you need me to be there to protect you at all times.”

you’ll just nod, enjoying your boyfriends presence. (he’s actually geeking over you aswell and the fact you grace him with your presence).

he takes you everywhere with him and doesn’t care about what anyone says. oh, aizawa paired him up with kirishima? you’re coming with. you can’t stay a second away from him before he’s rushing around like a headless chicken looking for you.

your biggest fan by far, anything you do he’s practically on the floor worshipping you. then the next second he’ll be calling your outfit disgusting in the sweetest way possible.

he’ll also deny the fact he’s a simp for you. one time, kirishima caught the poor boy gazing at you, dare i say LOVINGLY, across the room as you did a mundane task.

kirishima has never grinned wider than he did when he noticed this. your boyfriend noticed the quiet chuckles leaving his friend and turned towards him.

“what the fuck are you laughing at?”

“you stalking y/n!”

“I WAS NOT STARING AT HER.” sure… liar. you literally just outed yourself…

bakugou loved you, even though he shows it in his weird, weird ways.

SHOTO TODOROKI —

the sweetest, sweetest boyfriend ever. literally the ideal boyfriend anyone could have SIMPLY because of how doting he is towards his partner.

he’s absolutely enamoured with you. he isn’t shameful about it either! (referencing one of my other head-canons) .

this boy will downright show his love for you.

we all know shoto has a hard time with social cues, he blames it on his childhood and the lack of social times he had – always being isolated.

that’s also the reason why he doesn’t understand why he can’t stare you down like a hawk and not expect people to be slightly worried… why is he staring at you like he wants to eat you?

cuteness aggression is a thing. you both get it when you’re with each other.

you can’t believe you managed to secure this boy. he never opened up to just anyone, yet for you he made an exception. you flew that all the time.

meanwhile your boyfriend is still in denial you two are dating. every time you bring up your realtionship he’s blushing like a maniac and shying away from you.

your classmates notice the little things. such as you placing your phone face up only for it to be face down a couple seconds later because todoroki fixed it for you knowing you don’t want people staring at every notification on your phone (this is so me guys i’m sorry).

he is very attentive, he’s such a simp. he’ll pick up on the little things. sometimes, you feel like he knows you better than you know yourself.

there was definitely one time you had been making yourself a snack in the kitchen, forgetting to get one of your favourite piece of food for the snack .

once your snack was made, you frowned at the missing piece of your food you wanted.

starting to get upset, you looked around for something to make up for this.

“here.” a soft voice spoke causing you to relax at the sound of todorokis gentle tone.

“i can’t find my-”

“y/n. here.”

you looked at your boyfriends hand, noticing he was holding multiple variations of the missing food item you craved.

your lips trembled at his thoughtfulness and you pulled your boyfriend in for a hug as he returned it with a soft smile on his face.

he’s too sweet for you and such a simp!

—

a/n: guys, bare with me if there is spelling errors. this was not proof-read! i hope this was good enough, it was kind of short.

SEND REQUESTS! 🤍🤍

[waitimcomingtoo]

I’ll Cry If I Want To

Pairing: enemies to lovers!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Synopsis: you get stood up on your birthday and Peter attempts to cheer you up despite your feud

Masterlist

Peter walked into the kitchen in the tower and was immediately greeted by a confetti popper exploding in his face followed by a tender kiss on the forehead from Tony.

“Oh, my. Good morning to me.” Peter smiled at the greeting.

“Damn it, Parker.” Tony groaned. “I thought you were my little girl.”

“Don’t feel bad, daddy. A lot of people confuse Peter for a little girl.” You said as you walked into the kitchen behind Peter. The two of you made eye contact and you gave him an innocent smile while he rolled his eyes at you.

“Ha ha.“ He said sarcastically and then hissed at you like a cat. You gave him a look as you walked over to your dad.

“Happy birthday, baby girl.” Tony said and pulled you into a long hug.

“Thank you, daddy.” You smiled and hugged him back.

“Thank you, daddy.” Peter said in a high pitched voice to mock you. You and Tony looked at him and he quickly cleared his throat.

“Sorry. What I meant to say was, happy birthday. I didn’t know that was today. I mean, I’d been wondering why you looked so old but I assumed it was from your lack of sunscreen use.”

“Nice try. I wear sunscreen everyday.” You replied.

“Really?” He gasped. “Might want to up that SPF a few. You look like a crumbled piece of paper and not in a fun Taylor Swift way.”

“Don’t talk to me about skincare, Rudolf.” You snapped and tapped your nose twice to point out the zit on the tip of Peter nose. He covered it with his hand and narrowed his eyes at you.

“Children, please. No fighting. It stops my moisturizer from sinking in.” Tony sighed and rubbed circles into his skin.

“Sorry, daddy. I just wanted to make sure Peter knew about the giant pimple on his nose in case he was going to see anyone today.” You said as you smiled sweetly at Peter. He discreetly flipped you off by scratching his cheek with his middle finger.

“Any plans for the night, jelly bean?” Tony asked you.

“Nothing crazy. My friends are coming over later for a sleepover.”

“Oh God. Is this gonna be one of those crazy parties where you all get drunk and things get out of hand and you accidentally kill someone and have to dispose of the body together while hijixs ensues?” Peter. whined.

“No, because this isn’t one of the pornos you watch.” You scoffed.

“Pfft. That is not what I watch.” He insisted. “Where would I even find something like that? What would I even type? I’m open to suggestions.”

“Shut up.” You laughed. “You’re such a weirdo. And don’t be hanging around when my friends are here. I already told them you’re a pervert and on the FBI watch list so you don’t have a chance with any of them.”

“I don’t want to date your freakbob friends anyway.” He scoffed. “And to keep it down tonight, will you? I already wake up the birds chirping every morning. I don’t want to hear you birds all night too.”

“I actually came up with a solution for that. What if you killed yourself?” You asked through a smile.

“That’s a great idea. I might give that a whirl today if I’m not busy.” He replied and matched your smile.

“You? Busy?” You laughed. “Please. Busy doing what?”

“Peter and I are gonna be in the lab doing boring stuff with the suits. Adjustments, additions, and what have you.” Tony answered you.

“Oh. Okay. Do you need any help?” You asked.

“I wouldn’t ask you to do that on your birthday, baby girl. Peters got it.” Tony replied, making your smile falter a little.

“Yeah. I’ve got it.” Peter boasted and gave you a smug look. You glared at him for a moment before looking back at your dad.

“I’ll catch you later for some cake, okay honey bun?” Tony told you before kissing your forehead.

“Okay. Bye. Have fun.” You smiled sadly as he left the room.

“You look greasy, by the way.” Peter said once you were alone.

“Like I care what you think. Even your hairline won’t stay with you.” You scoffed and nodded towards his forehead.

“It’s not actually receding, is it?” He asked and touched his hair.

“Maybe your forehead is just getting bigger.” You shrugged and popped a grape in your mouth from the bowl on the table.

“Bite me.” He replied and stopped touching his hair.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You chuckled. “Isn’t that how you got your powers, spider boy?”

“Yup. What do you think would happen if you bite me? Would I be able to a do anything a total bitch can?” He wondered, making you pelt a grape at him. He caught it with ease and popped it into his mouth.

“Watch your mouth before I bring out the peppermint essential oils again.” You warned him.

“You wouldn’t.” He said quietly.

“Try me.” You shrugged. You stared at each other across the kitchen for a moment before Peter gave up.

“You win. Here’s your card. Happy birthday, gaylord.” He said as he handed you a homemade birthday card from his jeans pocket before quickly running out of the room. You rolled your eyes at him but smiled once he was gone and read the card. As annoying as you normally found him, you appreciated that he remembered your birthday. Inside the card was a crude drawing of the two of you fighting next to a drawing of a gift card to Planet Fitness.

Peter strolled into your bedroom around 10 pm when he had grown curious as to why your friends weren’t there yet. It was getting kind of late and you had listed many activities that you had planned to do while Peter begrudgingly listened to you talk earlier in the day. You were still in your room by yourself so he went in and knocked on your door to see what was happening.

“Hey dingus. When are your dumb friends getting here? I need to know when I should jam my ears with scissors.” Peter said as he leaned against your doorway. You were sitting on your bed with your knees draw to your chest and your chin resting on top of them as you stared out the window.

“Do that anyway.” You mumbled and didn’t move from your position.

“I’m going to. I can’t listen to you all yap about when Reputation TV is coming all night. And your friend Stacy’s theories are always way off.” He continued. You still didn’t turn to look at him and his smirk dropped when he heard a sniffle. He frowned and took a step into your room.

“Hello? I knew you were dumb but did you forget how to turn your neck or something?” He said to try to make you laugh. You stayed still and he craned his neck to try to see your face.

“Seriously though, when are they coming?”

“They’re not coming.” You said finally in a horse voice.

“Why? What happened? Did they finally realize you’re an annoying brat whose only redeeming quality is access to daddy’s credit card?” Peter teased in another attempt to make you laugh.

“Something like that.” You mumbled. Peter frowned and finally realized that something was actually wrong. He sat down on your bed and reached his hand out.

“Whats going on? Are you okay?” He asked in a soft voice.

“Just go away.” You said sadly and wiped tears from your face. Peter shot a web at a tissue box on your dresser and pulled it over.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what happened.” He said and handed you a tissue. You gave him a skeptical look and he held up one hand in defense while waving the tissue in the other like a white flag. You sighed and took the tissue before wiping your eyes.

“They found out it wasn’t a yacht party or at some fancy restaurant or some elitist club in Tribeca so they all cancelled.“ You said as you nervously ripped the tissue up in your hands.

“They cancelled? Why?”

“Because no one wants to come to my party. They want to come to a Stark Industries party with puppies in the gift bags and acrobats suspended from the ceiling and Avengers walking around like party clowns. Just hanging out with me wasn’t cool enough so they all bailed.” You sniffled and turned back to look out the window. Peter raised his hand to place it on your shoulder but then drew it back. He didn’t know if he was who you’d want to comfort you and he didn’t want to push it.

“I’m sorry.” He said instead.

“Like you care.” You laughed sadly and held your knees tighter to your chest.

“I do care.” He insisted. “And I’m very sorry this happened to you tonight.”

“No you’re not.” You scoffed. “You’re probably thrilled to see me like this. This is probably the greatest moment of your dumb life.”

“It’s not.” He said quietly. You finally whipped around to look at Peter and he saw the pain in your red eyes.

“It’s not? Look at me, Peter. I’m pathetic. I’m alone on my birthday because I wasn’t good enough for anyone to hang out with.” You exclaimed. Peter went quiet as you slowly caught your breath. You teased each other all the time but you’d never actually yelled at him before. You wiped your eyes with the tissue before staring at your hands.

“You were right.” You said quietly. “I am just a spoiled brat who people only like because of my connections. And I’m sure you’re anxiously waiting for me to shut up so you can say “I told you so” and prove to me once again that I’m always wrong.”

You and Peter sat in silence for a minute without looking at each other. Peter felt guilty that you were expecting him to kick you while you were down. You were feeling your own guilt for snapping at him when he was trying to be nice.

“I’m not gonna say that.” He said after a beat.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Just go away.” You said miserably and turned back to the window. Peter opened his mouth to say something but shut it when he couldn’t find the words. He patted your shoulder twice before getting up and leaving your room. You turned to look at the door once he was gone and felt yourself missing his presence. You turned back to the window and stared out at the night sky through your teary eyes and let time pass.

After a while, you started to smell something. You sniffed the air until you recognized it as the scent of a something burning. Out of sheer curiosity, you wrapped a blanket around your shoulders and padded into the kitchen. You found Peter in the kitchen with a lace trimmed pink apron tied around his waist and flour smeared on his cheek. You smiled in surprise and leaned against the wall to watch him for a minute. He was humming to himself a song you didn’t recognize while scrapping a burnt black lump of something into the trash can. When he finally turned around, he jumped when he saw you.

“Jesus. You scared me. But I guess I should’ve known the smell of something baking would have your big back running to the kitchen like I hit the bat signal.”

“Shut up.” You chuckled. “What are you doing in here?”

“Well, your parents went to a movie since they thought your friends would be here. That means no ones home.” Peter began.

“And?” You asked.

“And so I thought we could fulfill a lifelong fantasy of mine and making sweet love to you on the kitchen counter.” He smiled suavely and raised his eyebrows at you.

“Excuse me?” Your jaw dropped as he drummed his fingertips on the counter.

“I’m joking. I’m clearly baking a bake. Or, I tried. I guess 500 degrees was too hot.” He said and looked at the burnt cake in the trash.

“Yeah, that’s a few hundred above what it should be. But why are you baking? We have a chef for that.”

“Because it’s your birthday you miserable bitch. And everyone deserves a cake baked with love. Now do you prefer chocolate or vanilla frosting on your burnt cake?” He asked and held up two cans of frosting. You looked between the two before your eyes settled on him. You hugged your blanket tighter around yourself and shook your head.

“I don’t want your pity.” You said quietly.

“You don’t have it so shut up and grab a spatula before I rescind your choice in the matter and funfetti the fuck out of this cake.” He replied and held out a spatula. You stared at it and felt compelled to take it and join him, but you were still throwing yourself a pity party.

“No.”

“No? Look, I’m trying to cheer your dumb ass up so can you please work with me here?” Peter sighed and looked at you. You stared at him for a while before cracking the slightest smile. He noticed the smile and knew he had succeeded in his plan to cheer you up.

“Fine. But I’m not eating that. That’s what Santa puts in the bad kids stockings. We’ll make a new one. But I’m not touching raw eggs.” You told him and grabbed your dad’s matching pink apron from the drawer.

“I wouldn’t expect you to, Princess.” Peter mumbled under his breath. You glared at him through your lashes as you threw some flour and sugar into a bowl. Peter went to put the butter in but you pushed his hand away.

“It can’t be cold butter or it won’t mix properly. It has to be room temperature.” You explained as you filled a measuring cup with water.

“Oh. Let’s pop it in the microwave then.”

“We can’t do that either. Then the hot butter will scramble the eggs. Do you want little egg bits in your cake?” You asked him as you microwaved the cup of water for a minute.

“Maybe just a little.” Peter replied as he watched you put the butter into a small bowl and then place the bowl on top of the microwaved water.

“There. This will soften the butter without making it hot enough to scramble the eggs.” You explained. He looked between your little invention and you for a minute before smiling.

“Wow. That was really smart.” He said genuinely. “Women really do belong in the kitchen.”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes as you set the temperature to the correct heat on the oven. Peter couldn’t help but watch you over his shoulder as you combined the rest of the dry ingredients and expertly cracked an egg in one hand. He rarely got to see you like this, no makeup and in lounge clothes. And he definitely never saw you upset before. He was used to the perfectly groomed and standoffish version of yourself so this change of pace brought him unexpected joy.

“Move over. That’s not how you mix batter. You need to fold it.” You told him and reminded him of the you he knew. You bumped him with your hip and put your hands over his to help him fold the batter.

“Like laundry?” He asked as his cheeks heated up.

“Like you know what laundry is, Pigpen. And no. A different folding. Like this.” You said and helped him mix the batter until it was the desired consistency.

“Oh wow. That worked really well. I usually just go sicko mode until it turns into goop.” He confessed.

“And how does that work out for you?” You asked him.

“Look in the trash and you’ll find out.” Peter replied and eyed the burnt cake in the garbage can. You playfully rolled your eyes at him and kept helping him fold the batter. Everytime he tried to stir the batter, you gently corrected his hands to fold it instead.

“Why don’t you just do it?” He asked when he started getting frustrated with himself.

“Because you won’t learn if I do it.” You replied in a softer tone. Peter went quiet since you were being unexpectedly nice to him. You let the batter sit for minute once you were satisfied and then poured in into a cake pan.

“There. Thats gonna take about 30 minutes to bake and then it needs to cool before we frost it.” You told him as you shut the oven door.

“Oh, so we have 30 minutes? Then circling back to that making love on the counter idea-“

“Shut it.” You warned him. Peter pretended to zipper his lips and throw away the key. You cracked a smile before starting to clean up the kitchen. Peter wordlessly helped you tidy up and you exchanged a soft smile with each other in the silence of the kitchen.

“What was your worst birthday?” You asked after a long beat of silence.

“Are you talking to me?” Peter asked after looking around.

“Peter, we’re the only ones in the room.”

“Sorry. It’s not like you’ve ever asked me a personal question before. It’s usually “are you stupid?” or “can you go away?” or “do you need a tampon cry baby?” He recalled, making you feel bad for always being so mean to him.

“Oh. Sorry about that.” You said quietly. “I sound a lot meaner than I thought I was.”

“I’m mean too.” Peter shrugged.

“You tease me.” You shook your head. “I’m just cruel.”

“I think we are an equal amount of mean to each other. Don’t let it keep you up at night. I’m sure your chronic yeast infections do that enough.” Peter tried to lighten the mood, but you didn’t crack a smile. You seemed faraway in thought and he was curious as to why.

“Do you think I’m hard to be around?” You asked after a minute. Peter was about to crack another joke until he saw the look on your face. He could tell you needed a friend right now and was filled with determination to be one.

“No. I think those girls you called your “friends” are hard to be around.” He said seriously. “I’ve seen you with them. They’re the mean ones. Them bailing tonight has nothing to do with you. They’re a bunch of shallow jerks who only care about the material things in life. They don’t care about having deep connections with people. They only care about deep pockets on people. I know this isn’t the first time they’ve ditched you. And I know you feel alone even when they are here because you’re never fully included. You think no one notices because you tell stories about your charming adventures together but I see it in your eyes. They make you feel like an afterthought. You act tough and pretend it doesn’t bother you but I know that it does. You shouldn’t hang out with them anymore.”

“Then who am I going to hang out with?” You shrugged sadly. “Without them, I don’t have any friends.”

“Sitting alone is better than sitting at a table where you’re the topic of conversation when you get up.” Peter said simply. You stared at him for a moment before your eyes fell to the floor.

“I just don’t want to be alone.” You said quietly. Peter nodded his head in understanding and let a silence fall between the two of for a while. He was going to say that you wouldn’t be alone because you’d have him, but he didn’t know if you wanted to hear that.

“Can I ask you something?” He asked.

“No.” You said immediately. You made eye contact and you let out a sigh.

“Okay. Go ahead.”

“Why don’t you like me?” He asked without looking into our eyes. You saw that coming and stared at him to try and get a sense of what was going on in his head. He slowly looked back up at you and gave you a weak smile.

“Do you remember that time the power went out in the city due to that Max guy or whatever and we all lit candles and hung out in the tower?”

“Uh oh.” Peter gulped. “You answered my question with another question. That can’t be good.”

“Shut up. Do you remember or not?” You asked and gently kicked his foot with your foot.

“I remember that.” He told you and held your gaze.

“You were new around here. You had just gotten your powers that year so I didn’t really know you yet. I had gone to look for more candles and found you crying on the floor of the linen closet.

“I remember that.” He nodded. “It was all so overwhelming to be here with the whole team. I had never felt so small.”

“I know. I told you I felt like that too sometimes. And then we stayed up for hours talking about every stupid thing we ever worried about and gave each other advice. I think at one point I gave you advice on how much conditioner to use.” You said as you replayed the night in your memory. You had a look on your face that Peter had never seen on you before. It was natural and relaxed and playful, all things he knew to be the opposite of you. It was so rare that the two of you were getting along and he didn’t want to do anything to ruin in.

“A dime sized amount and not on the roots. I still use that advice.” He chuckled. “You were so nice to me that night. You came in and pretended I wasn’t crying so that I wouldn’t be embarrassed. You just sat down with me and started talking ad if we’d always been friends. You quieted all my fears that night. I was initially so embarrassed about it but then I felt a lot better knowing someone had my back no matter how bad I messed up.”

“I always had your back.” You insisted. “Even when I was mean to you. If you were in trouble with my dad, I was always here talking him down and trying to get him to see your side. He sees you through the lense of his child that he doesn’t want hurt but I’ve always seen you as a hero who wants to help. I even got him to give you the suit back when you were 15. And it was my idea to put the warmers in because you told me you’re always cold.”

“Really? You were rooting for me this whole time?” He cracked a smile in surprise.

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “Always.”

“Then how come you act like…” Peter trailed off in fear of insulting you.

“Like what?” You asked, sounding like you already knew what was coming.

“Like you hate me.” He admitted. You felt your face burn in embarrassment and shook your head.

“I don’t hate you.” You said sheepishly.

“You don’t?” He asked in genuine surprise. You looked at him and he could see the guilt in your eyes even in the dim light of the kitchen.

“No. I don’t. I never did.”

“Then how come we don’t get along anymore?” He asked. He had only gone along with all the teasing since you began it, but he had always wondered why it started.

“One of the things we had talked about that night was how my one regret about being homeschooled was never getting to experience a prom. I told you had dreamed of it since I was a little girl and it broke my heart to know I’d never have one. So then you said…” You trailed off, thinking he’d remember what he told you. His face showed no sign of remembering it but he racked his brain anyway.

“I said what?” He asked, breaking your heart just a little more.

“You promised to take me. To yours.” You told him. You and Peter stood in silence for a moment before he burst out laughing. Your sadness immediately hardened into anger at the sound of him laughing at you.

“Wait, you’ve been pissy towards me for the last few years because I broke a promise I made at 15 years old and didn’t take you to a stupid school dance?” Peter asked through a laugh. You glared at him for his reaction and he immediately stopped when he noticed you weren’t laughing too.

“Oh. We’re not laughing?” He asked.

“Why is that funny to you?” You snapped. Peter saw the moment slipping away from him and started to panic.

“Well I was- I was a kid.” He said simply. “I had a huge crush on this girl Liz and we were finally becoming friends so I asked her and she said yes. That was years after I promised you that. I’m sorry but I didn’t remember.”

Peter thought you were going to yell at him and hurl a parade of insults his way, but you just nodded your head and looked down at the ground.

“You’re right. We were just kids. Forget I said anything.” You mumbled and started walking towards the door to leave. Peter knew he had messed up big time and possibly just killed any and all chances of the two of you becoming friends.

“Wait.” He said desperately just as the kitchen timer went off. You stopped walking and watched him haphazardly take the cake out of the oven and throw it in the stove top as he blew on it.

“You should stay. We have to frost it.” He said with a weak smile and an even weaker attempt for you for stay.

“You can’t frost it while it’s hot. It’ll slip right off.” You said without looking at him.

“Oh. I didn’t know that. Well then do you want to talk some more or-“

“I have to go.” You cut him off and swiftly left the kitchen.

You went back to your room to resume the pouting you had started earlier. You felt guilty about walking out on Peter but it had hurt you to know that a promise that had meant a lot to you didn’t even stay in his memory. You stared out the window and sulked as you thought yourself into a deep rut. It didn’t take long for Peter to start making noise in the kitchen, interrupting your thought spiral. You heard things falling out of cabinets followed by Peter swearing. He bumbled around for a while and slowly drove you crazy with all the noise he was making until you couldn’t take it anymore. Just when you were about to text him and tell him the knock it off, you heard the dulcet sounds of “The Dancing Queen” coming from downstairs. You groaned in frustration and got out of bed to go downstairs and see what was happening.

When you got to the living room, Peter was standing there in one of your dad’s suits that hugged him a little too tightly around his muscles. The room looked like it had been decorated by a child with poorly hung streamers, ripped up construction paper to act as confetti, and bunches of webs that Peter had tried to shape into stars and moons. He had dimmed the lights and put a single bowl of chips on the counter, which he proudly stood beside.

“What the hell is this?” You asked him.

“Will you go to prom with me?” He asked with a huge smile.

“No.” You said immediately. “Please kill yourself.”

“I will.” He promised. “After one dance.”

“I’m not dancing with you. I’m not doing any of this.” You told him and turned to leave. You heard a “pst” right before feeling a web hit your back. Before you knew it, Peter tugged on the web and sent you stumbling back into Peter’s arms. He caught you with ease and winked when you landed in his arms. You rolled your eyes at him but felt a smile tugged at your lips.

“Please? Just one dance? Then I’ll let you go and hate me for the rest of your life.” He pleaded as he stared into your eyes. He looked so desperate that you found yourself nodding before you knew what you were agreeing to. He smiled in excitement and twirled you around before slowly swaying to the beat. You begrudgingly sighed and wrapped your arms around his neck while his stayed in a respectable place on your hips. You could feel his eyes on you but you kept yours on the ceiling.

“You can look at me, you know.” He teased, making you begrudgingly look him in the eyes.

“Oh. I almost forgot.” He smiled and pulled something out of his pocket. You looked down and saw a few poorly drawn flowers webbed to a rubber band.

“Your corsage, my lady.” He said as he slipped it onto your wrist.

“This is so stupid.” You laughed but secretly loved the thought he put into everything.

“It’s about to get even more stupid. Wait here.” He asked and quickly ran into the kitchen. He returned with one of Morgan’s plastic tiaras with a big fake gem in the center.

“Every prom needs its queen.” He said as he placed the crown on your head. You made eye contact as he stepped forward to adjust it and you felt your breath catch in your throat from how close he was.

“You didn’t have to do this.” You said quietly.

“Yes I did. I owed you a prom experience. I’m sorry I didn’t take you the first time. And I’m sorry for laughing at you. You just caught me off guard. I have spent many nights thinking of all the things I could have done to make you hate me. I genuinely forgot about that promise. I had no idea this entire time that you hated me because of prom.” He said as the two of you started swaying to the music again. You felt a feeling rise up in your chest, a feeling you hadn’t felt for Peter in many years.

“It wasn’t just the prom.” You admitted before you could think about it.

“It wasn’t? What else did I do? Did I hotbox the elevator with you in it or something?” He asked. “I did that to Wanda once and now she’ll show up in my dreams sometimes and make me pee the bed.”

“That’s disgusting.” You said flatly. “But no. It wasn’t that.”

“Then what?” He wondered.

“It’s stupid. You’ll just laugh again.”

“No I won’t.” He assured you. “Probably. I’ll definitely try really hard not to.

“Come on. Please tell me.” He pleaded and gave your hip a gentle squeeze. “You have to tell me now or I’ll become so annoying so quickly. I’ll be worse than those people who try to describe SNL skits to you and keep explaining even when it’s clearly only funny if you’re watching it.”

“I can’t tell you. It’s dumb anyway. Forget I said anything.” You said and hoped he’d drop it.

“It can’t be that dumb if it stood between us all these years. What, did you have a crush on me or something?” He laughed through his question. You went quiet and Peters eyes went wide.

“Oh shit. Did you have a crush on me?” He asked in a soft voice. You looked down at the ground to avoid having to look him in the eyes now that you were caught.

“I don’t know.” You sighed. “You were my age and had these cool powers and muscles and unexpected sense of humor. I was homeschooled and had swiped to the end of Tinder. You were my only option.”

“Oh. I see. So you only liked me because I was the only choice?” He said through a laugh but it hurt him. You could sense in his voice that you had just hurt his feelings and for once, that wasn’t what you wanted.

“I mean, not the only choice.” You added. “Cap used to hang around a lot more and he’s not the worst looking. But he’s like 500 so I never really had a chance.”

“Why me, then?” He wondered. You finally looked in to his eyes and shrugged a little.

“Because you were kind.” You admitted. “You didn’t need to take on as much as what you did at such a young age but you refused to do the easy stuff. You used to drive my dad crazy with how for you begged for assignments. You were so determined to get out there and save people, it was almost obnoxious. You were never content getting back stolen bikes. You always wanted to protect people from the big things. Even when you were just a kid. I liked that about you. I still do.”

“Still?” He gulped. “Even now?”

Before you could respond, the slow music that was playing ended and “Munch” started to blast from Peter phone. He scrambled to change the song but the moment had already been ruined.

“Sorry about that. I don’t know who put that on my playlist.” He quickly lied.

“It was you.”

“It was me, yeah.” He admitted and hung his head in shame. You stopped dancing and slowly withdrew your arms from him, making his heart sink.

“This was really sweet. Thank you, Peter.” You said genuinely. “I should probably get to bed now. I just want this day to end.”

“But we haven’t frosted the cake yet. It’s still your birthday. You can’t go to bed without any cake.” He said in a desperate attempt to get you to stay.

“I don’t know. It’s late.”

“Come on. It’ll be fast. That’s one of my powers. Spider can frost cake really fast and so can I.” He said and rushed over to the cake. He held it up and gave you a lopsided smile, convincing you to stay.

“Fine. Let’s make it fast.” You agreed and walked over to him. He smiled at you joining him and got out the frosting. He handed you a spatula and you started to frost the cake.

“You don’t have to keep wearing that if you don’t want.” Peter chuckled and went to take your crown off. You quickly swatted his hand and adjusted your crown.

“Back off. It’s mine.” You said and stepped away from him. He chuckled again and you laughed too.

“I really do appreciate everything you did for me tonight. I hope I can make it up to you one day.” You told him.

“You can make it up to me right now if we clear off this counter top and-“

“No.” You cut him off.

“Worth a try.” He mumbled.

“Really, though. You cheered me up tonight and I didn’t think that was possible.”

“In a way, I’m glad your stupid friends cancelled on you. It gave us an opportunity to spend time together. And this was the least I could do for not taking you to my real prom. Which was total buns, by the way. I missed most of it because I was putting my dates dad in jail.”

“Well I’m glad that didn’t happen tonight.” You laughed softly.

“Me either. I wish I took you to the first one. We could have been friends this whole time if I had just remembered my promise.” He sighed.

“It’s fine. It was a long time ago. I’m done moping about it. I’m ready to eat this cake and be friends from now on.”

“I’m ready for that too.” He smiled at you. “Especially the part about us being friends. But also for this cake because it’s kinda giving me a boner from how good it smells.”

“It does smell really good. I can’t even blame your boner. But if that thing even looks at me you’re getting impromptu gender reassignment surgery with this spatula.”

“Ouch.” He chuckled and looked over at you. He didn’t stop looking at you until you felt his eyes on you.

“What?” You laughed shyly.

“I can’t believe you ever liked me. And that this whole time, I had no idea. I am so not cool enough for a girl like you to like.”

“Yeah, well. It wasn’t like I dropped any hints.”

“Maybe not. It just doesn’t feel real. I wouldn’t believe it even if you weren’t always mean to me. You reciprocating my feelings was not something I ever thought would happen.”

“Reciprocating? You liked me too?” You asked as your mouth went dry.

“Are you kidding? You’re my mentors insanely hot and totally off limits daughter. Of course I liked you. Not to mention you’re funny, smart, good with a screwdriver and the apparently my biggest supporter. Though you did it in secret. Make no mistake, birthday girl. I had the biggest crush on you for years. Even when you were being mean to me.”

“Oh. I didn’t know.” You said quietly. You had your back to him as you washed your hands but you could feel his eyes on you. You peaked over your shoulder and sure enough, Peter’s eyes were locked on you. You gulped and turned back around when you heard him walking over to you.

“You know, as mean as your insults were, they were always clever. And you always looked good saying them. How could I not fall for you?” He said as he came up behind you. He was close enough that you could smell his cologne, along with a scent that was just distinctly Peter, making your heart pound in your ears. You turned around and leaned against the counter as you looked into his eyes.

“Well how do you feel now?” You asked with unwavering eye contact.

“I feel like those feelings never left.” He admitted. You had never heard such confidence in his voice and it was just the thing to tip the scales back in his favor.

“Hm. Interesting.” You shrugged and turned back around. It was almost like you could hear the disappointment in the air once you had your back to him again. You decided not to torture him forever and give in to what you both wanted.

“Peter?” You asked and looked over your shoulder at him.

“Yeah?”

“Clear the countertop.”

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