#I"M LATE

[kraftwerk113]

Life´s too short for weird music Tagesempfehlung 26.10.2024

The Wombats Sorry I´m late I didn´t wanna come

Nachdem die The Wombats in den letzten Jahren mit ihren Veröffentlichungen nur bedingt zu überzeugen wussten kommt jetzt mit Sorry I´m late I didn´t wanna come mal wieder ein kleiner Lichtblick zur Veröffentlichung. Zwar fehlt dem Song ein bisschen die Grandesse früher The Wombats Songs wie Let´s dance to Joy Division oder Moving to New York. Und doch ist Sorry I´m late.... ein kleiner rafinierter Indie-Popsong mit Ohrwurm Qualitäten.

[talaok]

Giving up

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Coaxing your neighbor into having sex with you although he's unsure since he's much, much older than you

Warnings: big ass unspecified age-gap, Jackson!Joel is a softie Smut| unprotected piv, crempie, insicure!joel, sub!joel, also my man has trouble lasting cause he's not done this in a very long time.

a/n:i needed to write some cheesy romantic stuff, and maybe it doesn't really make all that sense in this story and maybe i cried while writing this cause no one is ever gonna love me like this but so what bitch leave me alone (i also am i lil tipsy as i proofread this, so ignore any mistakes pls)

Part 1

"did you do something to your hair?"

Tommy was standing on Joel's doorstep, looking at him as if he were an alien.

"I washed 'em" he grumbled, "what do you want?"

His brother couldn't help but huff out a laugh

"someone's in a good mood today"

"I've gotta be somewhere, just tell me what you want"

Tommy's interest was only piqued more.

there stood his brother, his clothes perfectly clean- maybe even ironed- his hair... styled, his beard trimmed...

something was definitely going on.

"Where are you going?"

Joel rolled his eyes now, shooting his little brother a death glare

"none of your business"

Oh he knew what was going on...

"Who is she?"

"Tommy-"

"Is it Jessica? I bet 's Jessica, she's always flirting with you you ol' dog-"

Joel swore he was gonna punch him- he was already running late because of how long he took to pick his clothes- finding a flannel that wasn't completely worn out turned out to be real fucking hard.

He felt stupid for how much effort he'd put into getting ready, he felt stupid for how anxious he was, but most of all... he wanted his brother to go away.

"There ain't no one, Tommy- now, if there ain't anything you need, please go-"

But just then- just when he was finally going to get rid of him, your sweet, soft voice made its way to his ears.

"Hi Joel! Hi Tommy!" You smiled from your porch, waving your hand at him and his brother "You didn't forget about today, did you Joel?"

What in the actual fuck?

Tommy did a double-check, looking between you and his brother, and when he finally confirmed that it was actually him you were talking to, you whom he'd gotten all dolled up for, he couldn't do anything but let out a slow, long breath.

"No I didn't- I'll be there in a minute, darlin'!" Joel was answering you as his brother regained his ability to speak

"well... Fuck. Me" he was in awe, his voice barely a murmur

"it ain't like that" Joel was quick to intervene "'m just fix-"

"'m sure it ain't" Tommy let out a chuckle, his hand going to pat his brother's back "You fucking lucky bastard"

"Tommy I know she's young bu-"

"shut up man" he laughed "Just go have fun, you asshole"

__ __

"Sorry 'm late, Tommy was just-"

You smiled at his words, shaking your head

"It's ok, Joel" you cooed as you let him in,

He gave you a soft little smile, and you felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

Joel Miller didn't smile just at anyone.

"water?" you asked, leading him to the kitchen.

"Uhm- sure"

His heart was damn near beating out of his chest already- for no fucking reason at all.

Well except the obvious one... you'd sucked his dick and he'd eaten you out three days ago- and you'd made it clear you wanted more.

Jesus Christ, he felt like a fourteen-year-old with his first crush.

You watched him as he sipped on the glass.

"So?" a soft smirk was caged between your teeth "Did you think about it?"

He damn near choked.

Which didn't make any sense, he was expecting this, he already knew you'd ask.

He cleared his throat, diverting his eyes from you "I-I have"

"And?"

You'd gotten closer, your expectant eyes studying every inch of his face

pleasepleasepleaseplease say yes

"Did- didn't you have something that needed fixing?"

Oh for fuck's sake

"joel" you called for him in what almost sounded like a plead.

"darlin' just... lemme fix your cabinet first"

This man was gonna be the goddamn death of you.

"ok"

__ __ __

As it turns out, in many different ways.

Who knew watching him fix something would turn out to be so fucking hot?

He'd rolled his shirt up so that his strong forearms and a glimpse of his beautiful bite-worthy biceps were showing, his hands moved so very expertly that they couldn't help but bring back memories of what those same fingers had done to you just a few days ago, and his face... he looked so hot when he was all in his head, concentrated only on the task before him-

or so you thought.

"You're gonna stare at me the whole time?"

A soft laugh escaped your lips

"don't mind me- just enjoying the view"

He huffed out a laugh as he went back to work, but you couldn't help but notice the fact he pushed his sleeves ever further up his arms, giving you more of a view of his delectable skin.

What a tease

__ __ __

"there we go" he said after some time, opening and closing the cabinet one final time to make sure "all done"

For the record, this time you hadn't even done it on purpose, the cabinet had actually broken. It was like fate was sending you a message.

You awakened from your daydreams as he stood up to his full height, and hopped off the stool you were sitting on to walk closer to him, noticing some dampness in your panties while doing so...

It wasn't your fault... he was the one looking way too hot doing such a simple task.

"thank you" You smiled up at him, your hands going to his chest,

He held his breath for a moment

"'s nothing babygirl"

"yeah? then... you think you could check my bedroom too?" you were biting your lip in a way that made your question take on a whole different meaning "to make sure nothing needs fixing y'know?"

"In your... bedroom?"

"yes, Joel- please" you added, with your best innocent doe eyes.

Which of course made him fold in a matter of seconds.

You'd taken on a different tactic. It was obvious at this point that the man was too shy and too unsure to give you an answer (or the one you wanted to hear anyway), which is why you needed to present him with the actual possibility right in front of him.

And yeah maybe it was manipulative, but fuck it if you didn't wanna feel the man inside of you.

The flashbacks of what he did to you on that bed filled his mind the moment he stepped into the room.

He needed to get a grip or he wouldn't be able to hide his growing bulge in a minute.

"Everything seems right"

"yeah? 'm not sure about the bed" you hummed, desperately hoping he would just go along with it "it makes a weird sound when I get on it"

He turned to you then, his eyes locking with yours for an infinite second.

"try" you said finally, nodding to the bed.

He watched you for a moment longer before, surprising you, he did it- he sat on the bed.

The mattress creaked underneath his weight, and you made quick work of strolling closer to him as he pressed his palms on the bed, checking for the inexistent "weird sound"

"it don't look like there's anythin' wron-" he looked up the moment your hands found his shoulders "Whatcha doin'? sweethear-"

You were sat on his lap before he could even finish the sentence.

"Joel" you spoke his name softly, as if it were a caress, your hands slowly moving up and down from his shoulders to his pecs, as you finally scooted closer to him so your core was right against the hardness in his jeans-

He inhaled sharply, his fingers curling on the bed.

"would you like to have sex with me or not?"

You accentuated your words with a slow roll of your hips, grinding onto him and making a soft groan build inside his throat

"this- this ain't really fair sugar"

A smirk pulled at your lips as you lowered your head to whisper in his ear "I never said I didn't play dirty, Mr. Miller"

Your right hand trailed lower, moving down his belly so slowly that Joel thought he might just lose his mind.

"You're y-young baby-"

Your hand had found his crotch, the outline of his dick fitting in your hand oh so perfectly.

"we've gone over this already Joel, I'm old enough" you purred, your lips leaving a peck just below his ear "old enough to do many many things"

He cursed under his breath

"I just... I don't understand"

A breathy laugh escaped you

"there's not much to understand really" you murmured "You're hot, and I like you, and I wanna get in your pants"

That earned you a chuckle

"and you're sure you won't regret this?" he asked, "you sure this is what you really want- that- that you don't want to give a boy your age a chance instead of me?"

You smiled as you looked up at him,

you'd never met a man so sweet

"Joel, I promise you I'm sure" you whispered "I promise you this is what I want, you are what I want"

Fucking damn it

How could he ever say no after that?

With those gentle eyes of yours looking at him, with your hand right over his cock...

"So?"

He was gonna think about the consequences tomorrow. Now- now there was only you.

"yes"

That single word sounded better than any song you'd ever heard.

yes

Your lips were on his before he could even think of changing his mind- and god did they feel like a dream.

His soft stubble grazed against your cheeks and upper lip, as you deepened the kiss, as he opened up to you, closing his eyes only after he'd taken you in, only after he could admire all that was happening to him for some godforsaken reason.

A growl rumbled from his chest when your core found his dick again, grinding onto it in a way, that combined with the way your tongue was tasting every inch of him, was making him see stars.

He didn't think he'd kissed like this in 30 years,

making out seemed like such a distant thing from him, he was much too old to do something like this, and yet... everything about you made him feel like a teenager all over again, so perhaps it was fitting-

and god he had forgotten how amazing it felt.

You started undoing his flannen, not even dreaming of breaking the kiss, and once you opened his shirt up, once his big strong chest was right there before you, you just had to look at it.

You leaned away, his lips chasing yours making you smile as your gaze lowered.

Jesus, he was the hottest man you'd ever seen.

Some hair and freckles adorned his pecs, his little belly was ever so cutely fighting against his jeans- his skin was soft beneath your palms as they explored every inch they could reach.

He was looking at you, watching your blow-out eyes, wondering what potion you'd drank to be this mesmerized by what he had to offer.

You smiled once you caught him, leaning closer to leave a quick kiss on his lips.

"take off your clothes"

You got off of him, and once he saw you get rid of your shirt, your boobs pushed together by a simple black bra that somehow, at the moment, seemed like the sexiest thing in the world, he rushed to follow suit, nearly tripping getting off his pants.

The moment he looked at you again, the world- the universe, it all went quiet.

You stood naked before him, a soft, perfect little thing, looking like a damn dream.

"babygirl" he could only breathe as you reached him again.

"What?" you laughed

"I-I don't even know"

You shook your head, grinning from ear to ear as he pressed his mouth on yours again.

He was already addicted.

In a haze, you found yourself on the bed, your body caged beneath his, his tongue fighting with yours, his hands all over- You almost had the urge to laugh at how desperate he seemed, how frantically he was touching every inch of you, exploring every piece of skin-

His hands were on your tits, fingers gently playing with your nipples, then on your belly, your waist, your ass, your thighs, until finally, he found your core, but before he had the time to fully reach it you'd switched up with him, straddling his lap as he laid flat on his back... only he couldn't keep away for even a second and he immediately sat up, grabbing your waist.

He couldn't even begin to complain that you'd already grabbed his cock, positioning it at your entrance.

You couldn't wait anymore- you needed him now.

"Wait-" he murmured, his breathing labored already "you sure you're... y'know ready?"

Oh my god, you swore you were gonna fall for him if he kept this shit up.

"Joel" you smiled, looking into his big brown eyes "I've been wet since you fixed the cabinet"

"I-" he blushed "You-you sure?"

You didn't answer him, you simply took one of his hands in yours and guided him to feel just how much you were telling the truth.

"Fuck"

"yeah" you smirked "that's just what you do to me, Mr. Miller"

Jesus fuck

Joel didn't think his cock had ever been so hard.

You didn't give him time to do or say anything- he'd gathered that's how you did things by now- as you slowly, oh so very slowly, started sinking onto him.

He was big, the kind of big you'd be feeling tomorrow morning. The stretch hurt just right, so overwhelmed by the unadulterated pleasure that it was barely there.

Soft little moaned gasps spilled from your lips with every inch added, your eyes were closed, only focusing on the extraordinary feeling as your nails clawed at Joel's chest.

Until, finally- you'd done it. You were fully sat on his cock, and while your eyelids fluttered open, you regained your ability to hear- to hear the curses leaving Joel's mouth between ragged breaths

"Jesus Christ- Jesus fucking Christ- Goddamnit"

His grip on your waist was so tight you were sure it was gonna leave a bruise... not that you were complaining.

"you ok?"

His eyes were shut close and creases of effort filled his forehead, while his chest went up and down as he desperately tried to breathe.

"Joel?"

He swallowed tightly, now breathing in through his nose before exhaling from his mouth.

"d-don't move"

You smiled as you promised "I won't"

God this was fucking embarrassing.

He'd spent three days training.

And yes he wasn't sure he would have said yes, but still, better safe than sorry- except for the fact it clearly hadn't worked.

He had spent three days fucking his own fist and trying to last as much as possible and he did do progress... but this... this was fucking nothing like what he'd felt in the last twenty years.

He was so fucked

"I-I'm sorry" he gritted out, sounding almost defeated "I- I haven't done this in a long time darlin'"

"And you... you feel so fuckin' good- fuck"

Your walls had inadvertently squeezed around him at his words, making a groan rumble in his chest.

"You have nothing to apologize for Joel"

he would have told you that your voice was making everything worse if he weren't so preoccupied with trying to calm his dick down.

"take all the time you need"

And so he did, his eyes remained closed as he breathed through the initial shock, until finally, after what felt like an eternity, he was back.

He had to stifle a moan once he opened his eyes back up.

There you were, your beautiful eyes trained on his with such gentleness and care that it made where his gaze fell to feel even more sinful.

Your boobs were barely touching his chest, and yet they could have been in his face for the effect they had on him- his hands were on your waist, holding onto your soft flesh, your thighs were straddling his lap, giving him no choice but to finally look between your bodies, where you two connected.

"Darlin'" he murmured, hypnotized

You smiled, watching him admiring you in silence

"You look..."

Every word that came to mind wasn't enough, you were otherwordly, you were perfection... so he just settled on the simplest, and perhaps truest of them all.

"you're beautiful"

Your cheeks burned with heat as his gaze came back to yours.

"so are you, Joel"

And that was that.

His lips found yours again, and you couldn't stop your hips as they started moving, rocking back and forth and bringing little waves of ecstasy to your core.

A desperate moan spilled from yours to Joel's mouth as he grabbed the back of your head, forcing you into an even deeper kiss as he started following your movements.

Your hands went to the back of his neck, grabbing at the hair at the nape of it as you finally started bouncing on his dick, and god- god it was even better than you could have ever imagined

The loudest growl sounded from his throat as you worked yourself up and down on his shaft.

He was in another universe, his actions were only reflexes as the hand not tangled in your hair found your tits and then your ass, grabbing at it with tenderness and need.

"Oh Joel" you cried, his dick filling you up better than anything ever before.

You could quite literally feel him in your stomach, every little vein and ridge of skin creating a permanent dent inside of you that only he was ever gonna be able to fill.

"sweetheart- fuck" he groaned on his own, your breaths mixing as you ghosted each other's mouths, his eyes raking over your body and face, while yours couldn't help but roll to the back of your head as his manhood hit a particularly good spot.

"You feel so- good Joel" you whimpered mindlessly, now quickening your pace, desperation taking over you completely.

the sound of him entering your drenched core mixed with the bed creaking underneath you as you drove yourself closer and closer to heaven.

The sound of his name falling from your lips was something that filled Joel's chest with an indescribable feeling, he felt on top of the word, and at the same time... at the same time he wished it had never left your mouth because it was now forever imprinted in his brain, and he knew nothing was ever gonna compare to it.

Oh and also- also it was making his little lasting problem real fucking hard to control.

But he was nothing if not a gentleman,

You were gonna come, he wasn't gonna have it any other way.

His hand lowered down your belly as you kept chasing your release, looking like a damn glimpse of paradise, until his thumb found your clit.

"Oh fuck" you moaned, your eyes snapping open to look at him- a dark glaze of lust shading your iris.

Joel realized too late that he hadn't taken into account how fucking tight you'd get, and was now really paying the consequences.

Plus when you looked at him like that... maybe just this one time he could not be a gentleman- I mean it's not like he had much choice, he was trying his hardest but- shit

"darlin'" he mumbled, his thumb circling your bud "w-where do ya- where do ya want it?"

You moaned louder just at the thought of him coming

"Inside"

It wasn't even a question

"N-no sweetheart I-I shouldn-"

"Joel" you interrupted him, your lips grazing his as you talked, your grip on his hair tightening "I want you to fill me up until I can feel you leaking out of me for days"

Good Christ and heaven

"Fuck me" he cursed, all his strength going on not coming right there and then "Darlin' please- tell me you're close"

You were already seeing stars as he spoke

"I'm close, baby- oh fuck" you cried "Joel!"

A tsunami of lust-filled pleasure coursed through your veins as your orgasm hit like a damn truck.

You couldn't even remember your name as you screamed his own into the thick air, as you moaned and cried and spasmed around him, feeling him do exactly what you'd asked- filling you up to the very brim.

He'd started coming the moment you did- he couldn't do anything about it, it was just unadulterated perfection-

His head fell between your neck and shoulders as groaned like a man possessed,

until finally, after a good three minutes, you were both back to the land of the living.

He looked twenty years younger when he looked at you again, and you- you looked like the most beautiful woman on earth.

A soft smile pulled at your lips, and you couldn't help but ask "How long before we can do it again?"

And fuck him, but his age didn't matter, with those eyes of yours, it might very well be minutes.

@kluvspedro @bluebiyou @casssiopeia @bean-is-reading @millerispunk @i-cant-stfu

[aetherraeys]

beneath the surface

sirius black x fem!reader ⊹ 9.6k

cw ⟢ strangers to lovers, fluff, pining!sirius, non-chalant!reader, endless teasing, tension, sirius is quidditch captain, mild Black sibling rivalry, slytherin!reader

summary: you had absolutely no interest in sirius, but for some reason he had loads in you. they say opposites attract but he wasn't sure if you were really so different.

a/n: this took ages for me to write but it was so much fun and i love sirius so so much! let me know if i missed any content warnings and i suck at proofreading.

When you and Sirius were first seen together, sitting next to each other in divination—poor James abandoned—then couped up in the library, people assumed that you were brought together purely for education purposes.

Assumed you had been assigned to keep Sirius at bay almost, and to ensure he wouldn’t fail his next set of exams. The consequences of another awful report for Sirius were world-ending in his opinion. If he failed to bring his grades up he would have to forfeit the next quidditch season, according to madame Hooch, he needed to graduate with credentials outside of sports.

It wasn’t that Sirius was dumb, that was entirely not the case, no, he just didn’t care to study, didn’t care to show up on time, and used quidditch as an excuse to leave classes more frequently than he should have. Really, if he put his mind to it, he was rather brilliant.

And surely, you, a top student, head-girl infact; reserved—indifferent, never seen without a book or a scroll of parchment. You would have absolutely nothing in common with the hard-headed, outlandish, troublesome Black brother. No, you would better be suited to his more refined, quiet younger brother, Regulus.

When you were then seen by the boys’ changing rooms after a quidditch match, potions textbook in one hand, a slightly displeased expression dorning your face, waiting for none other than the captain—some eyebrows were raised. Still, most brushed it off as a tutor waiting for their student, you were rather regimened like that.

Despite all of that, that still wasn’t the reason you and Sirius were being seen together so often.

In the great hall, Sirius sat restlessly—legs bouncing, eyes darting, neck craned towards the entrance then round to where a group of slytherins sat and back and forth, over and over again. Remus finally let out an exasperated sigh, drawing the attention of James, who with a full mouth spluttered, “Something the matter, Rem?”

“Why don’t we ask Sirius?”, if he were still sitting there, all the eyes would have landed on him. But after looking at his watch, as quickly as the words, “m’ late for something—i’ll be back soon,” left his lips, Sirius was gone.

“Where’d ya reckon he’s off too then?”, a small peace of sausage flew out of James’ mouth—grimancing, Remus replied,

“Haven’t a clue mate”.

The next time you were spotted together, it was by none other than Lily Evans, once again in the library researching for her herbology report, she caught Sirius trailing after you, not unlike that of some lovesick puppy.

Because, unbeknownst to the rest of his friends, Sirius had take quite a liking to you. Although initally you were simply placed together in a group, for an ancient ruins project. Now you just couldn’t seem to shake the boy.

Still in her seat, she watched your expression for signs of anything other than indifference. You walked as poised as always, picking and placing books back on the shelf, humming back uninterested at whatever Sirius was saying to you.

Eyes trained forward as the pile of books you began to stack in his arms grew.

Said project had barely finished a week ago, and now Sirius layed spralled across the sofa in the gryffindor common room, staring aimlessly at the ceiling fan, as it spun round and round.

Lily sat cross-legged on the floor resting her back on the chair that Marlene sat in as she receited the ingredients of the potion she was studying. Nudging her foot and nodding over to Sirius, Marlene scoffed,

“Aren’t you going to pick up a book, Black?”

He didn’t break his gaze from the fan, just mumbling, “Yeah I will…later”

Lily shut her book, and sighed dramatically, adding—”I don’t think Sirius has books on his mind right now, Marls”, in a light, knowing voice.

That caught everyone’s attention, including his.

“Ooo, pray tell, Evans.” Marlene leaned forward in her seat, watching as Sirius shuffled uncomfortably in his seat.

Lily’s voice adopted a dramatic hushed tone, “I think there’s a particular girl on his mind, aren’t I right Sirius?”.

With that Sirius shot up and off the sofa, suspiciously fast, rushing out an, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She was right.

Sirius had been racking his brain for excuses to see you, trying to find more reasons to be in the library of all places, just to spend a bit more time with you.

Even he was shocked, not only were you a slytherin— he knows they’re not all bad but still.

You had zero interest in quidditch, barely acknowledge him and always had your nose in the most boring of books. And yet, he found himself painfully drawn to you. Intruiged, watching from a far spot in the courtyard as your face cracked a bright smile, your hand coming down on your friends leg as you barked out a laugh.

Eyes glowing and crinkled in amusement—listening carefully to your friend’s recount of what had happened in Transfiguration that morning. Times when you bursted out of this shell, animated and full of life one moment, then stoic and apathetic the next.

At this point, Sirius was going to run late for quidditch practice that he’d scheduled, but he just couldn’t tear away his gaze, your head thrown back, clutching your stomach as your laughter bounced off the pillars of the courtyard. Sirius thought you looked absolutely bewitching.

“Could you be any creepier?”, Regulus voice cut through the moment, dry and unimpressed.

Sirius nearly jumped out of his skin, his head whipping towards his brother with a loud, “Merlin!”

He’d been utterly transfixed by you—the way your laughter softened into breathless giggles, the way your fingers wiped at the corner of your eye where a tear had formed.

Regulus rolled his eyes. "Aren’t you going to be late?" he pointed out, arms crossed.

Dragging a hand through his hair. "Quidditch can wait," he shrugged, before his gaze inevitably tried to turn back to you.

Sirius blinked, his expression dropping as his eyes swept the courtyard once more. Just moments ago, you had been right there—laughing, glowing, utterly captivating. And now? Gone. Like a wisp of smoke slipping through his fingers before he even realized he was reaching for it.

Regulus huffed beside him. "Tragic, really," he drawled, already turning on his heel. "Maybe next time you'll spend less time staring and more time speaking."

This time it truly was coincidental.

You sat in the three broomsticks, butter beer in one hand and, as suspected, a book in the other. Today though, Sirius thought you look particularly divine, when not wearing your uniform, you look much less uptight more, you.

Whatever that meant.

He wanted to pay attention that strategies James had devised for the up-coming quidditch games but he couldn’t stop his eyes from flickering back between you and the person who sat across from you in the booth—conveniently out of his view.

James’ sudden huff brought his eyes back, “Were you paying attantion to a word I was saying?”

“I don’t think he was James, he’s been practically drooling over Y/N since we sat down,” Remus didn’t even look up from his pasty as pressed his knife into it.

Sirius felt his jaw tighten, fingers twitching slightly where they rested on the table. It wasn’t the accusation that got to him—he could handle the relentless teasing, the knowing looks. It was the casual way Remus had said your name, like it was something familiar on his tongue.

“Since when are you and Y/N so chummy?” Sirius shot back, trying to keep his voice light, but the sharp edge was impossible to miss.

Remus, finally glancing up, only raised a brow. “Since we both take Astronomy, and I actually talk to people instead of just staring at them across the room.” He cut another piece of his pasty, utterly unbothered.

James snorted. “He’s got you there, mate.”

Sirius wanted to argue, wanted to say I do talk to people—just not when they disappear into thin air the second I look away, but the words stuck. Instead, he only grumbled under his breath and tore a piece off his toast, chewing with far more aggression than necessary.

Now, you were packing up your things, slowly stacking the used plates, neatly placing the utensils in a pile—a hand stuck out handing your bag over to you. Sirius’ eyes squinted, hoping to get a better look, when he saw him.

His brother, his own flesh and blood—but with him, your face looked relaxed, free from the unimpressed expression that it so often had in his presence. Something twisted uncomfortably in Sirius’ chest. He wasn’t sure what it was—annoyance, confusion, maybe even something uglier—but he hated the way you walked so comfortably beside Regulus. Hated the way his brother stood there with your bag in hand, offering it to you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And yet he remained seated, appetite gone, roughly tossing down the toast on to his plate.

Sirius barely registered James and Remus still talking beside him, their voices muffled under the rush of his own thoughts. His legs began to bounce under the table as he watched you and Regulus exchange a few more words—ones he couldn’t hear, which only made it worse—before you laughed softly, shaking your head at something his brother said.

Turning and walking out together.

Sirius’ moping was beginning to grate on both James and Remus. They all knew why he was in such a state, Remus telling him, if it bothers him that much, he should just go and ask his brother why you were there together.

But instead Sirius whined and let his head fall onto the table, narrowly missing the saucer of jam.

“Is he still sulking?”, Lily asked, tucking herself in.

A fed up mmhm, left Marlene in affirmation. Sirius’ head shot up at the sound of your voice from the table infront of them, effortlessly engaged in conversation, for once books nowhere to be seen.

Sirius barely caught what you were saying, too busy zeroing in on the way you smiled mid-sentence, eyes alight with enthusiasm. And worst of all? Sitting beside you, looking perfectly unbothered, was Regulus (and Pandora), though Sirius payed her no mind.

Sirius groaned, slumping back down onto the table with a dramatic thud. “This is actually torture,” he muttered.

Lily rolled her eyes. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake, just talk to her.”

“I can’t,” Sirius grumbled, voice muffled against the wood. “What if they’re—” He hesitated, lifting his head just enough to peer over at you and Regulus again. “What if they are?”

James sighed, shoving a hand through his hair. “What if they are what?”

“Together,” Sirius hissed, glaring at his friends like it was their fault he was in this mess.

Remus sighed, thoroughly unimpressed. “And what if they aren’t? You’re spiraling over nothing.”

Marlene leaned her chin into her palm, watching him with amusement. “Or,” she added, “you could grow a pair and go find out.”

Sirius groaned louder, dramatically dragging his hands down his face. But even as he protested, his eyes kept flickering back to you—your soft smile, easy conversation, and the way Regulus seemed perfectly at ease beside you.

Yeah. He was going to lose his mind.

The evening on that same day, Sirius was still distraught, eyes glazing over the same page of his potions textbook for what felt like 100th time. Lily came rushing in a wide grin stretch across her face.

Stationing herself infront of Sirius, she waited from him to look up at her, “You owe me big time, Sirius”.

He blinked up at her, barely registering her words at first. His brain was still stuck on the same miserable loop—Regulus, you, Regulus, you—but Lily’s smug expression was enough to snap him out of it.

“What?” he asked warily, closing his textbook with a dull thud.

Lily wiggled her brows. “I may have happened to find out exactly why Y/N and Regulus were together today.”

Sirius sat up so fast his chair scraped loudly against the floor. “And?”

Lily folded her arms, basking in the moment. “And you, my dear Sirius, are an absolute idiot.”

“That’s not news, Evans, context—now.”

She let out an exaggerated sigh, then leaned in conspiratorially. “Y/N is tutoring Regulus in Arithmacy.”

Sirius blinked. Then blinked again. That’s it? He opened his mouth, then closed it, as if trying to compute the information. All this time, all this sulking—

Lily smirked at his stunned silence. “He’s ahead in his class, so Y/N is prepping him to join advanced classes.”

He let out a sigh of relief, her hand patting his shoulder as she stood, “That’s not all.”

“I’ve decided to graciously help your cause, and take you as my plus-one to Slughorn’s party on Friday.”

His face scrunched in displease, “Why would I want to go to Slug’s Party? Besides I have to train for quidditch.”

Lily shook her head, question why she bothered to help the boy in the first place. “You really are hopeless, aren’t you?”, her hands now placed on her hips, “Because, Sirius, Y/N is going to be there, and unlike you, I have an actual plan.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “A plan?”

Lily sighed dramatically, as if she were speaking to a particularly dense child. “Yes, a plan. One that involves you actually talking to Y/N instead of sulking and shooting death glares at your own brother across the Great Hall.”

Sirius groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I don’t shoot death glares.”

Lily gave him a flat look. “Regulus actually asked me today if he’d offended you in some new way. And frankly, he looked delighted about it.”

Sirius scowled. “Smug little git.”

“Exactly. Which is why you need to do something before he catches on that you’ve been acting like a jealous, brooding fool for the past two days.” She crossed her arms, tilting her head. “Besides, Slughorn’s parties are the place for whispered conversations and accidental strolls through the greenhouse.”

He huffed, torn between appreciation and sheer annoyance that Lily had clearly been scheming without him. “And you’re sure Y/N’s going?”

She responded with a light, ”Yup”.

Then Lily shot a very guilty look toward the door before lowering her voice. "I was originally going to take James."

At that exact moment, James’ voice rang from behind her, utterly deadpan. "Yeah. Thanks for that, by the way."

Sirius glanced over Lily’s shoulder to see James standing there, arms crossed, looking entirely unimpressed.

Lily winced. "I’ll make it up to you."

"You’d better," James muttered, though there was an amused glint in his eyes.

Sirius’s mouth opened as another thought hit him. "Wait—what about Regulus?"

Lily tilted her head, looking far too pleased with herself. "Oh, he was invited," she said airily, inspecting her nails. "But he had to decline. Prefect duties, I think."

Sirius blinked. Then, ever so slowly, a grin curled at his lips.

"Well," he drawled, stretching out his arms. "Why didn’t you lead with that?"

By Godric’s graces, Sirius was sat next to you, sweaty palmed barely able to look up from his plate. His tie felt too tight, strangling him, making his throat dry. The chatter of the party buzzed around him, but all he could focus on was you.

There you were—calm, composed, your posture straight, as though you were perfectly content to sit there in silence, only speaking when spoken to, listening without much reaction. It felt like a nightmare and a dream all at once—being so close to you, yet so far out of reach.

How exactly was he supposed to casually strike up coversation, when your expression was so unreadable. He missed the way your face looked when it wasn’t so tightly bound, when it was loose—and carefree. You didn’t fidget, didn’t seem to notice the clinking glasses and hushed conversations at nearby tables.

And of course, as a top student, you were sat on Slughorn’s main table. Among the smartest in Hogwarts, and though he had been steadily working on his grades—again thanks to Lily.

He couldn’t shake how ill-fitted he felt for this event.

He was always so sure of himself—always so confident, a boistrous charm in the way he carried himself. But here, next to you, in the hush of your carefully maintained silence, he felt unsettled. Out of place. Uncharacteristically unsure.

You weren’t unkind, nor were you cold, but there was a deliberate distance in the way you held yourself. Private. Dignified. A quiet sort of control that left no room for unnecessary conversation. You weren’t ignoring him, but you weren’t indulging him either.

Sirius was used to attention, to easy smiles and playful banter, to people leaning in when he spoke. With you, there was none of that.

He just wanted to, for once, be the reason your exterior cracked, to get a glimpse beneath the surface first-hand.

The silence stretched, thick and unbroken. He should have found it uncomfortable. Maybe he did. But something about it—about you—held him there, kept him still when he would have otherwise filled the space with careless words.

And then, you glanced at him, catching his eye. Waiting expectantly, something about the way you looked at him, your gaze neutral but observant—

"Sirius," you said, your voice low, subtle, soft around the edges, catching him off guard. Whispering, “He’s talking to you?”

Lily less graciously clear her throat and parroted Slughorn; “He was saying he thought Regulus was already quite a gifted alchemist. And that maybe you should consider joining him in the advanced potions class”.

There was small snickers as he spluttered out, “Oh! Uh right, well um…I’d love to but um, with the quidditch season starting, I’m not sure what electives I’ll be able to take”, he rubbed his palms forcibly drying them on his trousers.

When his eyes flicked momentarily over, he swore he saw the corners of your lips twitched up into a the smallest of smirks, shaking yorur head in unimpressed amusement. The tips of his ears felt hot, but he couldn’t ignore the sense of satisfaction blooming in his chest—a win, was a win in his books, embarassing as his was.

Slughorn nodded hastily in acknowledgement, “Ah yes…yes! I’ve see you on the pitch, Black. You’re quite the talent.” Seamlessly launching into a speech about ambition, talent, and the bright futures of his carefully selected guests. Sirius barely heard a word of it.

He found his fingertips aimlessly picking at the buttons of his cuffed sleeve, still reeling in his small victory. However minuscule, however brief, it was something. And for Sirius Black, that was enough to keep his spirits lifted, even as he sat in his stiff chair, enduring Slughorn’s endless praise for his star pupils.

Pushing boundaries, wanting to get another reaction out of you. Something more than a smirk, more than that slight shake of your head.

Leaning slightly closer, he dropped his voice just low enough for only you to hear. “Do you reckon Slughorn’s rehearsed this in the mirror? Or does he just feel it in his soul?”

You didn’t look at him immediately, only reaching for your glass with careful ease, as if you were debating whether or not to entertain his comment.

You mimicked his lean in feigned drama, your voice coming out measure and hushed.

“I imagine he does both,” you mused, tilting your head slightly. “Practice ensures confidence, but true passion?”—your eyes met, the glint of jest that he saw was undeniable, “That can’t be faked.”

Sirius blinked, momentarily a small huffed chuckle slipped past his lips. It wasn’t what he’d expected—just enough to match his teasing but just ambiguous enough that he couldn’t tell if you were just playing along or making a genuine observation. Either way, it was enough to disarm him.

He exhaled, feeling his shoulders ease from the tense position they had been locked in all evening, the stiffness melting away before he even realized it had been there. The tight grip he’d had on his own nerves loosened, and he had to fight off the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

For the first time that night, Sirius felt like he had an in.

The mingling had begun, hors d'oeuvre and a variety of other dishes were handed out. You stood with Lily, and your plus-one, Pandora. Lily caught him staring hopelessly at your turned back—called him over with a knowing smirk, her voice cutting through the buzz of conversation. “Sirius, why don’t you join us?”

You turned you attention to him as he walked over, slowly inserting himself, listening—Pandora, who was currently enthusing to you about magical creature care. Her eyes were bright with excitement, hands gesturing animatedly as she described a recent lesson on the behavioral patterns of mooncalves. Lily, equally engaged, nodded along, chiming in with her own thoughts.

Unlike the other two, you weren’t adding much to the conversation, simply holding your glass loosely in one hand, gaze flickering to the room beyond as if your mind was elsewhere.

His eyes drifted lower, catching sight of your near-empty glass, condensation pooling at the edges. Before he could second-guess himself, he stepped closer, angling toward you slightly.

“Would you like another?” His voice was even, polite—none of his usual theatrics, no teasing lilt. Just a simple offer.

Your gaze lifted to meet his, searching his face for a moment before you glanced down at your glass. There was a brief pause, then a small nod. “That would be nice.”

“Any preference?”

You considered for a moment before answering, “Something fruity. Not too sweet.”

You watched as Sirius took your glass with a quiet nod before turning toward the drinks table. For a moment, you considered staying put, letting him bring it back to you, but something about the way the room buzzed with conversation—Lily and Pandora still deep in their discussion—made you move.

Without a word, you stepped away from the group and fell into step beside him. Sirius glanced at you, brows raising slightly, but he didn’t comment. Instead, he adjusted his stride to match yours, the two of you weaving through the crowd in a comfortable silence.

At the drinks table, he reached for an empty glass. “Something fruity, not too sweet,” he murmured, repeating your request as he scanned the selection.

You hummed in affirmation, watching as he carefully poured. Letting a soft, “Thank you,” pass into the air between you.

As you took a sip of your drink, you glanced at Sirius, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “I was expecting to see Lily with James tonight, not you,” you remarked, tilting your head slightly.

Sirius exhaled a small chuckle, swirling the liquid in his glass. “So was James. He was less than pleased when Lily swapped him out for me.”

You hummed, lips pressing together as you nodded. “And yet, you still came.”

Sirius placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. “What, you think I can’t enjoy a sophisticated evening of small talk and fine dining?”

You gave him a dry look, unimpressed. “I think you’d rather be anywhere else.”

He gasped—actually gasped—so theatrically that the man standing beside you both at the drinks table glanced over in alarm. “You wound me,” he said, staggering back half a step as if struck. Unfortunately, in his dramatics, he miscalculated his footing, knocking his elbow against a tray of glasses just as the man set them down.

One wobbled, teetering dangerously toward the edge. Instinctively, Sirius shot out a hand to steady it, but the sudden movement caused his own drink to slosh over the rim and down into the sleeve of his shirt. With a twisted expression and he let out a disgusted groan, feeling the cold liquid slide up towards his elbow.

The moment was so ridiculous, so perfectly clumsy despite all his usual effortless bravado, that before you could stop yourself, a laugh escaped you. Not just any laugh, not the superficial, light laugh he had heard from you once before, no, your laugh was full and rolled through the quiet area by the drinks table. Earning a few turned heads.

Sirius looked up sharply, frozen for a moment as if he couldn’t quite believe he’d managed to get such a reaction out of you. Then, slowly, his lips curled as he chucked to himself in disbelief.

You bit back the rest of the laugh that threatened to bark out of you.

You clear you throat, hand coming up to physically stop you from breaking once again. “Sorry, I—,” you stopped yourself, licking your lips as a smile of amusement lingered at the corners of your mouth.

Sirius shook his head, eyes still fixed on you in an almost fascinated way. “Don’t apologise,” he said, voice softer now. “Good to know you’re human.”

You scoffed lightly, raising a brow. “Not everyone is always quite as animated as you, Black.”

His grin turned wolfish as he leaned in ever so slightly. “And yet, here you are, laughing at my misfortune.”

You exhaled through your nose, shaking your head as you glanced away, but the atmosphere between you had shifted, lighter now, easier.

The conversation that carried between you was more casual that he’d expected. Finding out that you weren’t quite as anti-social as he’d originally pinned you.

Learning your indifferent silence wasn’t cause by anything other than a preference for meaningful conversation over idle chatter. You spoke when you had something worth saying, and Sirius found himself even more drawn that he was before.

As you became less of a mystery to him, he marked your almost dry, understated wit—one that revealed itself in carefully chosen words and small sarcastic remarks. He stood beside you, soft rings of laughter and chatter resonating, the distance between you closing as the hours shed away.

Perched on a window in the Bell Tower, you admired that stars that were scattered across the sky—he’d also learnt that you had soft spot for Astronomy. Explaining why when he was looking for you in the library, 60% of the time he’d failed. Revealing that you spent more time in the Astronomy tower than anywhere else in the castle.

But speaking about the stars was when you truly came to life, gushing at the high-visibility of the constellations that hung in the sky that night.

“It really is a privilege to seen the sky like this—Look, look there! Can you see it? An hourglass with three stars in the middle.” You leaned forward over the window, pointing earnestly at the stars above.

“Y/N, I have honestly no idea what I’m supposed to be looking at.” Small chuckles littered through his sentence.

Your hands dropped dramatically, huffing out an exasperated sigh. “Sirius, you aren’t even looking in the right place!”, moving to stand impossibly close to him, first guiding his fingers up to point closer to where he should look.

There was still had no reaction, you watched his eyes dart up and down, left and right—brows creasing in efforts to see what you had. Growing impatient and fearful a cloud may steal the precious opportunity away—you reached up, your skin warm and radiating through his cheeks, touch too tender as you angled his chin ever so slightly higher.

Palms lingering on his face, watching—waiting for him to register what was so obvious to you, “Have you found it yet?” Your voice faintly above a whisper, calm and hypnotic.

"Not yet," he murmured, though his voice had lost the usual mischief. You wanted to look back at the stars yourself, so tempted to give up. But he was still looking—still searching, eyes pinched, his lips parted slightly; whispers of his hair dancing over you every so often.

You could see them reflected faintly in the darker silver specks in his eyes, your hands still hadn’t moved from his face, any space between had now vanished entirely, neither of you in any hurry to step away.

Then, just as you opened your mouth to prod at his delay once more, his breath caught, and his gaze finally narrowed, focusing.

“There!”, almost in awe, as if the constellations above had been birthed before him—lips curving up into the biggest beam you think you’d ever seen, so bright it challenged the very stars you beholded.

An incredulous laugh punched through him, his shoulders bouncing, body vibrating against yours. Obviously, Sirius had seen the stars before, and yes, they were beautiful—and until tonight, they were just that, stars—far away orbs charged with fading into the distance.

But in this quiet moment, they felt impossibly closer somehow, and Sirius was suddenly ashamed to have only just noticed them, ignorant to the small pleasures they could hold.

You followed his gaze, to the familiar pinpricks of light shining in the night sky. “About time,” you teased, your voice had lost its edge.

He could hear the smile on your face in your voice, light and airy, bewitching him as the seconds passed, “And if you look at there…jussttt across, that really really bright one,” Now, he could feel your breath skipping over the skin below his ears, goosebumps prickling down the back of his neck. Sirius hummed softly back.

Your hands gently slipped from his face, leaving warmth and wanting in their wake, as your words, the softest of the night—

“That’s you.”

Your voice seemed to echo over and over in his head, unmistakably clear. For a moment, Sirius couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, his heartbeat sounded loud in his ears. Eyes flicking between you and the star.

“That’s me?” he echoed, voice a little quieter than usual, in a hushed tone, afraid of discovery.

You nodded, a small mhmm.

A faint nervous chuckle bubbled in him, still close enough to be gently shook by his vibrations. “Well, you sure know how to make a guy feel important.” Almost laughing at the absurdity of it—

Tearing your eyes away from the sky, the corners crinkling in amusement, this time you didn’t hold back, didn’t cut your laugh short. You threw your head back, moonlight bouncing off the skin of your neck—as a hearty laugh ripped through you. One hand clasping your stomach, muscles beginning to ache, the other finding purchase on his arm. And it seemed that, once you had started, you struggled to stop.

Melodic giggles mixing with his, he couldn’t help but join in—your vibrant and unrestrained joy infectious. His free arm finding your waist, giving you some stability as you leaned into him, breathless.

“What? What—what’s so funny?”, grinning like a fool, his own question punctuated with the laughter bubbling from him.

When you finally pulled back, gasping for air, there was a softness in your eyes, your fingers still rested lightly against his arm, the proximity making the depths of his stomach flip.

“Merlin,” you breathed, shaking your head as if trying to steady yourself, “You’re actually quite funny, Sirius,” Bodies now resting against the cold stone wall, hands still on each other.

“Glad you think so,” his voice again confident and dripping with teasing sarcasm.

You rolled your eyes, but it was accompanied by another smile, turning to pointing at the star.

”That—” you started, but you knew his gaze hadn’t left your face yet; elbowing him lightly before you continued. “That, is the Dog Star, the brightest star in our skies and it’s named Sirius. Gods, you really are something,” words littered with of faux annoyance.

He raised his hands in defeat, another laugh rolling through him, “Now was I meant to know that!”

Quickly leaning into you, fueled by your relaxed smile, he brought his lips mere millimeters from your ear, and you could feel the warm of his body—smell his scent of roasted coffee, warm sandalwood and burnt parchment.

“And I bet that’s your favourite,” just above a whispered tone, painfully smug.

He could feel the shiver that ran down your spine, breath audibly hitching, “Oh, spare me, Black!” failing to fight the twitching smile that wanted to play on your lips.

“My favourites are actually in the hourglass I showed you earlier.”

His eyes glimmered with mischief, watching your expression carefully, “Oh, I totally believe you, Y/N. And what might it be called?” His closeness was disarming, that irritatingly charming, teasing confidence of his—combined with the way he looked down at you with an uncalled for fondness. You couldn’t, didn’t dare look back at him, not until the heat that’d built up and began crawling up your neck simmered down.

“It isn’t just one star, it’s the three that split the hourglass,” picking up one hand from the cold ledge, directing his gaze away from your face—”It’s called Orion’s Belt, apparently because it cuts across the ‘waist’ of the constellation.”

The smirk that spread across Sirius’ face, far too smug and self-satisfied, a snicker slipping in—“Orion’s Belt, huh?” he mused, leaning slightly closer to inspect the stars with you.

Squinting, whipping your head to him, suspicion written all over you face, “Yeah…Why’d you say it like that, though?”

He turned to casually lean his back against the pillar, crossing his arms, keeping his eyes on you, “I didn’t say it like anything?” Playful. Feigning innocence.

“Then why do you look so unbareably pleased with youself?”, mimicking his lean and crossed arms. He enjoyed the skeptical look in your eyes, pushing himself up off the pillar, abruptly closing the space you had so recently put between you.

One hand curved around the rock that framed the window, and the other hand, oh so conveniently placed just above your head; closing in. Eyes helplessly travelling from his face down his neck—he was getting dangerously close now, only now noticing his unbuttoned shirt, chest exposed, and silver necklace dangling away from his skin at the depth of his incline.

Dipping his head down to catch your wandering eye, leaning further—inching closer and closer, holding you captive in his gaze. Leaving barely a fingers space between your lips, deliberately skimming your jaw with the very tip of his nose before stopping by just below your ear.

So close you swore you could hear his pulse, loud and steady, rhythmic. It was torturous, the tips of your ears burned hot, lips pressing into a thin line. He still hadn’t said anything, seconds passed like hours, a breath held so tightly in your chest your shoulders began to raise.

His voice low and breathy—

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

There was nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide; even as he made his retreat he stopped again, hand that once rested on the stone frame, resided precariously in the gap of the wall and your waist. Searching for any signs of protest, or discomfort in your face, he waited at eye-level with an intensity that made your chest stutter its rise and fall pattern.

Sirius tilted his head just slightly, the corner of his mouth quirking up in unfiltered amusement, you weren’t going to let him win. Dropping his gaze and letting your eyes drift so obviously down his chest, raising your hands from your side.

Swallowing the scoff that edged that tip of his tongue, as you pulled him in by the collar closer—delicately trailing your fingertips down, down, down. Your eyes were on his again, challenging, teasing, and relishing in his expression. Adam’s apple bobbing as the tips of your thumbs brushed directly against the skin of his chest. Before smoothing over the fabric, looking up at him, innocent, effortless—yet so painfully calculated. You tip-toed slightly to reach his ear, palms now firmly pressed against torso, this time you could feel his heart, thumping, fast and firm.

“I think…”, the whispering presence of your lips against the reddened shell of his ear, smirk deepened when you felt the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch. “I think I’m going to bed now, Black.”

And then—just as quickly as you’d drawn him in, you let go, pushing him back with little to no force, he teetered, hand ghosting over where yours had been.

Spinning on your heel, he watched you walking away, not sparing a single glance back.

You heard his voice bouncing off the walls, getting further and further way—“At least let me walk you back!”, Sirius let out a sharp exhale, running a hand through his hair as he fought off the stupid grin tugging at his lips.

“Goodnight, Sirius!” You called back, silhouette fading into the dim corridors of the castle.

His body still hummed with the memory of your fingertips, your voice, that look in your eyes, a laugh bubbling up in his chest only now noticing you’d buttoned up his shirt, he shook his head.

Merlin help him.

When his friends saw him in the Great Hall the next morning, he had a new-found pep in his step. Excessively cheery and energised, just itching to get a glimpse of you again.

“I take it Slug’s party went well then,” Remus remarked, smirking as he sipped on his orange juice. Sirius tried to hide the way his lips wanted to break out into a grin, failing miserably, “What makes you say that?” he chimed.

His friends scoffed at his words, as obvious as his moping and longing were, he also wore his triumphs on his face. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe its the way you’ve smiling like a psycho into your bowl of cereal. Just a guess, though!”, James didn’t even try to disguise his loud snort at Marlene’s comment.

Sirius shrugged, too caught up in his own bliss to pay any attention to what she’d said. He was still flicking looks at the entrance, not entirely sure what he would do when he actually saw you, nevertheless waiting, rather impatiently at this point.

Remus rolled his eyes, setting his glass down with a soft thunk. “It’s almost pathetic, really,” he mused, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “You’d think after all these years, you’d have a little more subtlety.”

Sirius scoffed, finally tearing his gaze away from the doors to flash Remus a cocky grin. “Subtlety is overrated, Moony.”

“Not when you’re staring at the entrance like a lovesick kneazle waiting for its owner to come home,” Lily cut in, settling into the seat next to Marlene. She gave him a pointed look before lazily stirring her tea. “So, are you going to tell us what happened, or are we supposed to sit here and suffer through your dreamy sighs?”

“I don’t sigh,” Sirius argued, but before he could elaborate, James jumped in.

“You do. And, honestly, it’s disturbing.”

Marlene snickered. “And loud.”

Remus hummed. “And frequent.”

Sirius groaned, shoving his spoon into his cereal with a little too much force. “Fine,” he relented, though he hardly looked annoyed, his grin creeping back into place. He let himself sink into the memory of the night before—the way your voice had softened, how your fingers had trailed down his chest, how you had absolutely played him before walking away like it had meant nothing.

It had definitely meant something.

But before he could speak, the conversation around him stilled.

His heart stammered. He didn’t need to turn to know why.

You had finally arrived.

And, just to be cruel, you didn’t acknowledge him right away. No, you were far too composed for that, greeting Pandora with a smile, engaging in brief conversation with Dorcas. Sirius forced himself not to pout—you had to have known he was watching.

Almost in sync, all three of you turned your sights to him, Pandora’s lips pressed into a thin line, containing a laugh, while Dorcas did little to conceal her reaction, both hands coming to her mouth, as if trying to force the spluttering laugh that had escaped back into her mouth.

There it was. That hint of amusement, the ghost of a smirk tugging at your lips before looking away again—pretending as if nothing had happened at all.

Sirius let his head drop onto the table, melting with a dramatic groan.

“Oh, yeah,” James laughed, slapping him on the back. “He’s absolutely done for.”

After that morning, you and Sirius had been seen together at a much higher, frequency rate. It started subtly—him waiting for you outside the library after your tutoring sessions, lingering near the Slytherin common room under the pretense of “just passing by.”

Then it became impossible to ignore. Stolen moments in the Astronomy Tower, lying on the floor as you told him stories of the stars, his leather jacket draped lazily over your shoulders on particularly cold nights. Walking up to the Great Hall side by side, bickering about something utterly ridiculous, only to separate seamlessly at the entrance—he to his table, you to yours.

It’s not that that you didn’t like his friends, and it wasn’t that they didn’t notice the shift. Lily’s knowing glances, James’ exaggerated winks, not even meant for you to see, but James wasn’t exactly discrete—still none of it phased you. Your friends had noticed too, they saw the way you’d started to schedule your head-girl duties around his Quidditch meetings so you could ‘coincidentally’ bump into him in the Courtyard.

You still refusing to confirm or deny their suspicions—because you and Sirius were still just friends.

And yet, Sirius Black, the boy who had never carried a single book of his own, had been spotted time and time again with your textbooks in his arms. Slinging your bag over his shoulder like it was second nature, grumbling about how ridiculously heavy it was, but never once handing it back until you were where you needed to be.

And if anyone commented on it, he’d simply shrug, flashing a lazy grin as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“What do you carry in here?” he muttered one afternoon, adjusting the strap over his shoulder. “A dozen bricks? A severed head?”

“Oi, nosy Parker! Do I question what you lug around in that ghastly duffle bag?” you quipped back, lips twitching when he scoffed dramatically.

But more telling than anything was you. Sirius’ presence had breathed life into you, and the more time you spent with him, the more he chipped away at your most guarded parts. The carefree laughs that, before your friendship, were few and far between, corridors now rung with a mix of your vibrant giggles and his howling laughter—on more than one occasion being scolded for disrupting nearby lessons.

“I’m so sorry, Professor, I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again,”

The door of the classroom barely closed before Sirius grabbed your hand pulling you away, both snickering, trying to run, impossibly faster to keep up, him parroting your empty apology. There was an ease in the way you spoke, a lightness in your voice, even when you hissed out a Sirius in that exasperated, almost always fond tone.

And in turn, you were learning him. The Sirius Black behind the bravado. The one who stayed up far too late studying because he swore he wouldn’t fail another Potions test (though, truly, you were the one keeping him from failing). The one who distracted you during tutoring sessions, doodling on your parchment instead of taking notes.

“You do realise this will not help you pass, yes?” you deadpanned, pointing at the horrendous stick figure he’d drawn.

“I disagree,” he said solemnly. “This is a visual representation of the tragic fate of the gillyweed. Taken too soon.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back a laugh.

And then there were the other moments. The ones that left you holding your breath, the air between you taut—thin and the space between you even thinner. His fingers brushing against yours a second too long when he handed back your quill. The times in the back corners of the library when he’d leaned in just close enough that your noses nearly touching, only to reach over your shoulder and pluck a book he didn’t need from the shelf behind you.

And if Sirius hadn’t know any better, he’d think he saw a pout on your lips when he stepped back, “Disappointed, are we?”

To alot of people, you made no sense.

You were put-together, composed, meticulous. Sirius Black was reckless, loud, and endlessly exasperating. But what they didn’t realise—what no one truly saw—was that beneath all of it, you weren’t so different.

By the time you’d made your way into the Great Hall; the usually conjested walkways between the tables were clear, some students still milled about—finishing their breakfasts and making their way out.

You sat, as you always did, with Pandora, Regulus and Dorcas, parchment in one hand and toast in the other. Humming along with the conversations that carried beside you. You’d seen Sirius when you entered, knees resting on the bench as he leaned over the table, huddled amongst his friends and a few faces you didn’t quite recognise.

Sirius was preoccupied.

“—and if I loop around Flint here before he can block, that leaves me wide open to feint left and pass here—” James was rambling at full speed, Quidditch playbook spread across the table, but Sirius was barely paying attention. His eyes kept flickering toward the dwindling crowd, tracking your movements as you slowly gathered your things.

“Uh-huh,” he muttered absently, cutting James off mid-sentence as he abruptly stood.

James blinked. “Mate?”

Sirius ignored him, slipping through the benches and making his way over to you. You didn’t even look surprised when he appeared beside you, just raised a brow as he fell into step next to you.

“Good morning to you, too,” you murmured, adjusting the strap of your bag.

Sirius grinned, keeping pace with you easily. “I had a thought—”

“Oh, Shall I call Madame Pomfrey?”

He huffed, nudging your shoulder lightly. “I think you should come watch me play.”

You hummed, not slowing down. “Quidditch?”

“Yes, Quidditch,” Sirius said, as if there was any other answer. “You know, the most thrilling, heart-pounding, exciting sport at Hogwarts?”

“I have no interest in it.”

His jaw dropped dramatically, stopping in his tracks, face dorned with a look of pure offense. “What! But it’s the first game of the season! Everyone’ll be there!”

Trudging to a stop, you turned to face him, weight shifting onto one hip—arms crossed over your chest. Your lips twitching, the slightest of smirks gracing them before you spun away from him and continued toward the doors. “Exactly, with everyone else there, I’m sure you’ll survive.”

Sirius jogged to catch up, eyes twinkling, his hands on your shoulders, lightly shaking you. “Come on, Y/N, just this once. You wouldn’t want me to lose, would you?”

“That depends,” you mused. “Would you blame your loss on my absence?”

“Absolutely.”

Earning him an eye-roll and a quiet chuckle, even after all this time, he still felt a pang of victory when he was the cause of your smile. Finally, you pushed an exasperated sigh out, shaking your head. “Fine, Black. I’ll come.”

Truthfully, you’d already rescheduled, even post-poning your tutoring sessions so you’d have time to go, simply finding amusement in his grovelling.

His face lit up, “Anndd will you come by the changing rooms after the match? We can go with everyone to Hogsmead after, to celebrate.” His last words came out rushed, a clear after thought, eyebrows still raised into a pleading expression, you didn’t respond immediately.

A feigned debating look on you face, lips pressed into a thin line, foot tapping and an unsure hmmm reaching his ears.

He bent his head down to meet your eyes, always so close but so far away—“I’ll make it worth your while,” he voiced faintly above a whisper. You groaned, head rolling back in playful reluctance, your words came out more pinched than you’d hoped, mumbling out “Maybe…”

Escaping his clutch with a turn of your heel, retreating down the corridor without looking back. Sirius lingered there for a moment, watching you go before he spun around and bolted back to the table.

James barely had time to react before Sirius all but crashed into the bench beside him, looking positively giddy.

“She’s coming,” he announced, practically vibrating.

Marlene snorted. “Poor girl.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Merlin help us if he wins.”

But he wasn’t paying attention. He was already envisioning it—the roar of the crowd, the wind in his hair, the knowledge that you would be there, watching.

Sirius was unnecessarily righteous when it came to his duty as captain, and as much as winning was important to his pride, feeding off the energy that surged around him when he brought his team to a victory.

Now, winning really mattered.

You’d never been to a Quidditch match before, opting to avoid the commotion all together. Frankly, you’d written it off as ‘too violent’, after passing by the hospital wing time and time again—seeing poor Madame Pomfrey overwhelmed with the sheer volume of injured players post-match. Just the idea of watching made you grimance slightly, anxiety lightly brewing in you.

The match had been brutal.

Barely half-way through your voice adopted a coarse and gravelly cadance, suprisingly over-zealous and commited to cheering. A shocked laugh leaving Remus’ mouth, as your voice boomed, travelling rows away.

A grueling hour and a half of hard-fought goals, relentless defense, and a nail-biting chase for the Snitch. But in the end, Gryffindor had come out victorious, and Sirius had played one of his best games yet.

The hope of ‘maybe’, made him dress just that bit faster—fighting the aching tension of his muscles. He was still the last to stide out of the changing rooms, James roughly massaging his shoulders, grins of exhaustion on their faces. Hair still damp and clothes still slightly askew, he’d expected his usual friends to be waiting—Remus, Marlene, Lily, maybe even a few other.

He didn’t expect you.

And you weren’t there, though he was welcomed with a rally of loud cheers, applause, too hard pats on the back. He really was trying to enjoy the moment, honest, but it felt slightly incomplete. Because the only person he was looking forward to celebrating his victory with, was you.

Minutes had passed and they were still stood there, just barely a meter away from the doors of the changing room.

It was James who caught sight of you first, elbowing Sirius roughly in the ribs. Nodding his head in your direction, ”No way,” he whispered, grinning.

Barrelling through the curtains, you hunched over hands on your knees—panting breaths as your chest heaved. Marlene let out a low chuckle. “Huh. She actually came.”

Your voice came out tight, each word wheezed out. “So…so many—people”, inhaling deeply through your nose, “Got—got lost,” Eyes squeezing shut as you failed miserably to catch your breath.

Sirius blinked, momentarily stunned, before a slow, triumphant smirk spread across his face. You still hadn’t found the strength to look up. His feet carried him toward you without hesitation, and by the time he reached you, his grin was unstoppable.

“You made it,” he said, a touch smug, but there was something else beneath it—undeniably soft. Hand reaching out to him in desperate purchase, he caught it, bringing his other hand gently around your waist—stabalising you, as you rested your weight on him.

You cracked one eye open, still huffing out your breath. “Clearly.”

“Well, I’m honoured,” he drawled, tilting his head. “Didn’t think you’d run to me.”

Before you could muster up a proper retort, one hand shifted your shoulder, guiding you ever so slightly out of the way as James, Remus, and the others brushed past, leaving the two of you alone in the corridor.

Sirus waiting patiently for your breathing to steady, when you eventually stood up straight, his gaze was tender—a warmth spreading through his chest, feeling like he could finally relish in his victory.

He was looking down at you, the awareness of your proximity making your barely regulated heartbeat ring obnoxiously in your ears, breaths shallowing again—not from exertion, not from the running, but from him.

Arms still holding onto you, not tightly, not in a way that caged you in—just enough that if you wanted to move away, you could. Touch somehow firm and gentle, grounding, fingertips twitching ever so slightly against the fabric at your waist.

Instead, you looked up at him, swallowing past the dryness that inched up your throat—gaze heavy and burning. “You did amazing,” you murmured, voice softer than you’d meant, like the words weren’t quite enough for what you felt, “Really,” confession direct and sincere.

His lips parted, breath catching, eyes trained into yours. The teasing smirk he so often wore faltered, replaced with something deeper, something that sent heat curling low in your stomach.

“Mmm that’s high praise, Y/N.” His voice had dropped, slow and deliberate—honeyed, like he was savoring each word, letting them hang heavy in the air.

Sirius tilted his head, just slightly, gaze flickering—your eyes, your lips, back to your eyes. It wasn’t subtle. It wasn’t careful. It was knowing, full of intention, and it made the prickling skin at the back of your neck travel, helplessly further down your spine.

Your fingers twitched at your sides, the urge to reach for him overwhelming, shoulders squeezing up, sucking in a breath smaller than you needed when he inched closer. The distance between you was shrinking, a measly sliver of space left.

He was giving you a chance to stop this.

You didn’t take it.

His hand tightened at your sides, just barely, and the moment you tipped your chin up—just the slightest bit, just enough—he was there.

The first touch of his lips was ghostly, so faint you wondered is was just his breath, inconceivably cautious, testing—savoring your moment before committing to it fully.

And then raising slightly to your toes, nose skimming his skin, that was all it took.

Sirius exhaled sharply through his nose, and the kiss deepened, urgent and needing, like he’d been waiting for this longer than he was willing to admit.

And he had.

His other hand found purchase at your jaw, fingers curling just beneath your ear, angling your face as he pressed closer—so close you could taste the lingering remnants of triumph on his lips.

The arch of your feet began to burn at the stretch.

You barely registered when your hands found his jumper, curling into the damp fabric, trying to close a non-existent gap between you. Pulling him in as you pushed your feet to press firmly into the ground beneath you—his neck craning further down chasing you, unwilling to breakaway. He smiled against your mouth, he couldn’t help himself, kissing you was the easiest thing in the world, second-nature.

He prayed this moment wouldn’t end.

Lips plush and warm against his, the echoes of his teammates’ cheers lost, one palm slipping so intuitively into the dip of your neck, fingertips entwining with the strands at nape—basking in you, like you were a small slice of heaven.

When he finally pulled away, he didn’t go far, forehead resting against yours, his breath fanning against your lips. His smile had returned now, still bright, but softer—contented.

“Well,” he murmured, voice still hushed, “I suppose that’s a fair prize.”

You scoffed, but your lips were still tingling, wanting, your fingers were still curled into him. “Oh, shut up, Black.”

He laughed, vibrant and victorious, and just this once—you let him have it.

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 3:58

No amount of hectic schedules, exhausting patrols, rowdy villains, and never-ending legal paperwork could ever keep Bakugou from attending his daughters’ extracurricular activities—because he’d literally go through literal hell and back than to ever see a disheartened pout along with the silent treatment after he gets home from work.

You think he’ll ever miss any of his daughters’ milestones? Fuck no!

Bakugou insists on being at every event, his phone—and even an actual camera during a good day—in hand, his heart swelling with pride and unconditional love that makes his chest figuratively hurt; it might as well be a medical problem at some point. 

Because, if anything, Bakugou Katsuki is a father first and a hero second.

“Shit, ‘m late. Have they started yet?”

He’s sweating as if he just used his explosions to propel himself in the air to get to you quicker, but, in truth, he sort of had to just run since the traffic on the highway today would’ve only angered and slowed him down. He left patrol to Halfie, who offered to take his shift, knowing how many times Bakugou covered for him when he was in his son’s piano recital.

“They just started doing warmups,” you answer. “Did you run? You’re drenched to the bone; you’re going to catch a cold if you don’t get changed into some dry clothes.”

“Hah, doubt it.” He snorts, though he does appreciate the thought of you bringing him a spare shirt for just-in-case purposes.

You're always the one who thinks ahead, aren't you? Bakugou knows he’s a very lucky man to have such a doting, caring wife that humbles him whenever he gets too focused on his pride. The balance that he didn’t know he needed!

Ignoring the gawking stares of the other parents—because it’s not everyday you see the Pro Hero Dynamight in mundane activities such as watching his kid take gymnastics’ lessons—he looks through the glass in search of his little princess.

Just as he saw her, his lips curled to that oh-so genuine smile, one that just said, “That’s my daughter, right there! Look at how awesome she is!” 

Bakugou remembers how his parents were the same and how they were very supportive of his interests and hobbies, no matter how odd they may be for a five-year-old. How often do you see someone learning to take on both hiking and archery at the age of five? Bakugou was sure he learned most skills during his childhood that made him a firm hero in the field today.

“She has a bit of trouble with tumbling because of her tummy.”

“Yeah? And does that have somethin’ to do with my awesome cooking?” Bakugou replied smugly. “Besides, ‘ts just baby fat, and I’d prefer to see her like this than to see her thin but often sick.”

“Mhm, and she makes up for the cutest ending pose.”

“And her effortless splits. Have the coaches seen her do that?”

You shook your head. “Not yet,” you say, “but I think they’re about to do it—oh! Look, look!”

And he does; his phone’s camera is already recording his youngest daughter doing a perfect vertical split, while the other girls somewhat struggle to maintain a consistent posture. 

“She’s a natural, hun.”

“She is,” you chuckle, “just like her Daddy to a certain extent.”

“Damn right, she is.”

Bakugou tries to hold back his laughter when your daughter once again attempts a forward roll with the guidance of the staff. Her tummy somewhat makes it a bit difficult for her to do so. The way she hesitates but then does the forward roll, albeit a little lopsided with a smile that shows her adorable tooth gap—it was safe to say that your daughter was over the moon with her gymnastics lessons.

It’s all too much for him to take.

And when all is over, he greets his daughter by picking her up and blowing raspberries on her neck that have her squealing in laughter before he insists that he’ll be the one to talk to the coaches about the upcoming schedules and the progress your daughter has made. 

“Mr. Bakugou, she’s a good listener, and I believe that she’ll be moving onto the next class with the older children in no time,” they told him. “Has she received prior training before this one?”

“She’s also taking ballet lessons,” he answers, “but gymnastics is what she really likes. Ballet was just a compromise since your services weren’t available in our area at that time.”

“That’s wonderful to hear. It’s a joy to have her in class. I’ve already sent Dr. [Last Name] the schedules we offered, and we are looking forward to having your daughter in the upcoming lessons.”

The walk back to your car was light and quiet for a change. Your youngest daughter, Kusami, was out like a light in Bakugou’s arms, having worn herself out with socializing, rolling, doing splits, and whatnot the gymnastics’ instructors told her to do. And Bakugou was just letting the simple moment sink in because this is what he considers the most rewarding part of his day. 

Time spent with his family.

Bakugou also warmed up to the thought of having to interact with other parents. He chatted with a single father earlier, whose daughter was the oldest in Kusami’s class. It was nice to converse with equally enthusiastic and supportive parents that you meet through your children's extracurricular activities.

“Let’s go through a drive-through; get Katsumi her usual order,” Bakugou murmurs, remembering how his oldest daughter, Katsumi, would’ve probably woken up from her nap by now and was probably anticipating her family’s return. 

“Alright,” you nod. “Katsumi and Kusami have swimming lessons tomorrow at five in the afternoon, too. Do you think you’d get home that early?”

“Of course,” he answers. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[mariasont]

Bumper to Bumper - A.H

a/n: this is so self-indulgent i am probably the worst fucking parker you've ever seen it's wild & i also just watched a vid of mgg parking someone's car and went feral so there's that

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader (i don't think there is any use of pronouns just nicknames like honey)

warnings: none? rough day, reader is beefing with parking, tooth-rotting fluff

wc: 800

"Hotchner," came his voice, rough like sandpaper across the line, as you fought back the swell of tears, your lower lip caught in the anxious trap of your teeth.

Your eyes fixed on the parking spot before you, the very sight of it forming a lump in your throat as your frustration mounted. The morning had unfolded like a series of unfortunate events--your coffee machine had sputtered its last, your favorite book left forgotten on the porch to be ruined by the rain, and now, this parking spot seemed to mock you, its yellow lines almost pulsating with contempt. 

Your hand glided across your dampened cheek, exhaling a shaky breath as you juggled the phone between your ear and shoulder. "You know, I don't think I've said this enough, but you're an exceptional boss. Honestly, you're—"

You sensed the sigh in his breath before he spoke. "What do you need?"

"I know I'm late," you managed to get out, a small hiccup halting your sentence as you did everything in your power to avoid crying, but the waver in your voice gave you away. "But I have a good reason--"

Once more, he stopped you mid-sentence, as he often did. "Where are you? Is everything okay?"  

"I'm fine, it's silly."

"If something's wrong, I want to hear it. What's happening?"

"I just... I can't seem to park my car," you choke out, cheeks aflame with mortification. "I've been trying and failing, over and over, it's embarrassing. The spot's too tight, and of course, it's the only one left because 'M late."

"Hold on, I'll be right there," he said, and the line went dead.

You were left staring at your phone, a fresh wave of embarrassment washing over you. You cringed, feeling smaller with each passing second, knowing he was swamped with work and here you were, unable to perform the simplest task of parking a car.

The moment you saw him step out of the building, your racing heart began to slow, his presence alone easing the knot of anxiety in your chest. He approached and opened the driver's door, and you were suddenly spilling over with apologies, the traces of tears still evident on your cheeks.

He looked at you with a gentleness that melted away the last of your defenses, reassuring you with a simple. "It's okay. I got it."

He took your place behind the wheel and parked the car with ease. As you stood there, you realized how his unwavering steadiness had become a pillar you leaned on more often than you'd like to admit. 

As he stepped out of the car, you approached, your voice barely above a whisper, "Thank you, and I'm sorry. I know it's such a small thing..."

He gave a slight sigh, one that seemed to brush away your concerns, a hint of a smile in his eyes and said, "There's nothing to apologize for. Don't be so hard on yourself," he reminded you gently, his hand coming to rest on the soft of your shoulder. 

A silent nod was all you could muster as you lifted your gaze to meet his. Your eyes were still red-rimmed from crying, and your nose, slightly pink from the number of tissues you had abused this morning. In a soft plea, you murmured, "Can I have a hug?"

Without a word, he simple open his arms, an unspoken invitation that you immediately accepted. As you nestled into his arms, your body relaxing as you inhaled his familiar scent. A soft sniffle escaped you as Hotch quietly said, "Five senses..."

You closed your eyes and focused on the sensory details--the comforting touch, his reassuring voice, the sight of his concerned gaze when you opened your eyes, the taste of the air mingled with his cologne, and the grounding scent of him. As your breathing evened out, he gently placed his hand on the pulse point at your neck, counting your heart rate in his mind. 

You stepped back, a sheepish grin spreading across your face. "I suppose driving school is next on my training agenda?"

Hotch's expression softened into a subtle smile. "I'd agree, considering I just got you that car, I'd prefer it if you got the chance to enjoy it first before crashing it," he teased back lightly. "You sure you're okay?" he asked, his eyes searching yours.

"Promise."

Hotch glanced at his watch, a decision forming in his eyes. "I think I can free up some time later. How about we get you another copy of your book?"

As your smile broke through the clouds of your frustration, it was as if the sun had pierced through the overcast sky of his day, bathing him in a light he never wanted to leave. "Really?" you responded, practically glowing with delight.

Hotch's heart swelled at the sight, feeling lighter than he had in ages. Gently, he cupped your face, drawing you closer to plant a tender kiss on your forehead. "I love you, honey," he said, his voice a low rumble.

You giggled, a little surprised by the public display of affection, you blushed, responding with a shy, "Love you too."

[babygirl-riley]

Hi I have a request so it’s like Simon and his wife arguing pretty badly like to the point where she’s shouting bare at him she’s on the verge of tears and while their arguing their new born cries so the reader goes upstairs to the crying baby once their baby is calm she doesn’t even go back downstairs to talk to him she just like stays in the baby room and goes on her social media to distract her self from Simon.

Hii so I have this written in my notes I always do that so I don’t forgot what I’m gonna ask and I hope this is what u meant tho cause im so slow it acc took me bare long to understand 😭

Quiet Home

You and Simon have been back to back arguments. Before you both could finish this one a loud cry interrupted the fight.

A/N: this is exactly what you asked for 😭 So embarrassing truly 💀 However this really tugged the heartstrings

“I want to be close to you, but I don't know what to do.'Cause if we are near to through, it may make it worse.”

Warnings: baby blues, depression, anger, arguments, fighting, yelling, screaming, baby crying, swearing, soft!simon, husband!simon, happy ending

simon x reader guide

simon x reader family

You were exhausted, you would clean, go get groceries, wake up every hour with the newborn, and everything in between. Usually you had Simon right beside you and help you with the smallest things. However, duty calls. Price promised Simon a couple months leave however, it was an emergency.

When Simon first brought it up, you knew he saw the rolling of the eyes but you brushed it off. Simon brought it up later and you just tried to push it away. Eventually it blew up. Things were said and yelled that weren’t meant to come out. Simon slept in a different room and he was gone for a couple of weeks.

You didn’t answer his calls but text him updates. It was petty but it’s a petty time. You were promised to have your husband here with both your child. Yet you are here almost falling asleep anytime it was early in the morning to feed the baby. You sat outside of the room of your baby as she bailed and bailed, being irritated and tired. Eventually you would go in sure but you were so scared that you would yell at her for being a baby.

After the couple of weeks you tried to brush it under the rug as you made Simon’s favorite dinner. Knowing he would be home. He text you stating that he will be home around 7 o clock and he was excited to see both you and the baby. 7 went to 8, 8 went to 9, 9 went to 10, 10 went to 11, and so on. The food went cold and baby was down. Especially you were tired.

You already put the food away and sat in the living room. You watched the clock before you angrily got up and started the bath. You needed to cool down. You heard the heavy footsteps heading down the hall. You rolled your eyes with the clock read 1 AM.

Simon noticed the light beaming through the room you both shared. Inhaling deeply he stepped in and rounding into the bathroom. You stood with a robe on and touching the warm water.

“S’rry ‘m late.” He said watching your movements.

���Okay.” You said not looking at him.

He frowned and shook his head. “I had a ton of paperwork and didn’t notice the time. Thought I had enough time.”

You didn’t say nothing as you went to the cabinet and pulled out your favorite salts for the bath. Simon watched as you poured them in and went back to put it away. “Y/n please.”

“Please what Simon? You were late. You weren’t here. Shit happens right? Emergencies happen. It’s whatever at this point.” You scoffed as you finally looked at him.

Simon noticed the anger in your eyes. He was upset that he left without resolving the last fight. He was upset that when he called you didn’t want to talk. He was upset he wasn’t home when he was supposed to be and not seeing his babygirl. He also noticed you are tired. Exhausted even. The bags. The purple shade underneath your eyes. “It’s my job you knew that when you signed up for it.”

You laughed and shook your head. “You don’t think I know that? Don’t you dare throw that in my face Simon. We were promised a break for our child yet he drags you back and you are willing to without a second glance.”

“Really? It goes back to me not carin’ about our family huh? That’s what you said before I left. You think I care more about my job than us.”

“Yes! Yes I do! I think that you are stuck in a loop without anyone but you! You are fine with just going instead of being here!” You yelled starting to walk out and brushing passed Simon.

“It’s my job! I have to go! I can’t leave my team behind!” He yelled back following you.

You scoffed as you ripped your robe off, ripping open your drawers. “Right but you can do it to us.” You mumbled pulling out sweats and a t-shirt.

“What’s that supp’se to mean?” He basically growled.

You snapped up and looked at him. “Ever since Millie was born it was like you have been gone. You will help yes but how long did that last before you skipped your happy ass to Price,” You yelled pulling the sweats up as you felt a sting of tears coming. You laughed as you heard nothing from him. “I have been doing this by myself with no help! Nothing Simon!”

“That’s not fair! How many times do I have to say it’s my fuckin’ job…”

“You have a job here!” You screamed as tears started to spill and right before anyone could say anything a wail broke through the air.

You both stood there for a minute before you raked your fingers through your hair. You wiped your eyes angrily. “Damn it,” You pulled your shirt on before walking out, grabbing your phone on the dresser. “I am sleeping in the other room.” You slammed the door shut before walking to the baby’s room.

You opened it as Millie screamed louder. You cried as you walked closer that turns to a sob. You didn’t know what to do. How to do it. You don’t know how to keep her asleep and fed and changed without being upset. You gripped the crib hard as you couldn’t move. You were tired and your baby needs you. “I’m sorry,” You cried as you picked her up and shushed her softly. “I know I know.”

You sat in the rocking chair as you let your baby fed. You scrolled on social media seeing all the happy couples. All what they are doing. All your friends looking like they don’t have problems. You missed Simon, not like he changed, just his touch, he soft voice when he whispers I love you. You missed his laugh when you both would have that marriage banter. You missed his tea.

You are afraid that maybe having a kid was a bad idea. That it ruined or tainted everything. You looked at your baby and inhaled. How could you think like that? What has she done to make you feel that way? It seemed like anytime Simon was around you were angry. Small arguments that turned into this. Your lip trembled and you held your baby closer to your chest. Tears prickling your eyes.

You threw your phone on the ground and sobbed. You were a monster. How could a mother think like that? Why would a wife yell at her husband for doing his job? You kept thinking about all the bad things that happened or been thought of that you didn’t notice that your baby was being scooped up.

When the cold air touched your skin, you opened your eyes panicked. You thought you dropped her as you looked down with tears blinding you before you felt a hand on your cheek. You snapped your eyes to see Simon, holding your baby girl close to his chest as she was asleep. “Baby,” He whispered concerned on his face. He was kneeling as he wiped tears after tears. “Come on let me put her to bed and let’s go talk please.”

“No,” You mumbled as you stood up. “I got her.”

Simon stood up and shook his head. “Please, you look tired.”

“I-I no she needs me.” You whispered but made no move to grab her.

“She has me too,” He said quietly. “Go to the kitchen please.”

You stared for a moment and looked at your baby. How small she was compared to him. How secure she looks when he was holding her. You nodded as you wiped more of the tears away. “Okay.”

Guilt pinged your chest as you glanced once to see him bouncing a bit as he slowly put her down. You walked into the kitchen and sat at the island as quiet tears slipped. You are tired you felt your body relax and felt heavy. “Baby,” You snapped your head up and saw Simon holding a kettle. “Do you want tea?”

You nodded once and looked away. It was quiet as he face the kettle waiting for it to go off. “I’m still mad at you.” You mumbled.

Simon nodded as he turned to lean against the counter. “Why is that?”

You rolled your eyes. “Simon you know why.”

Simon walked up and leaned his elbows on the counter. “Y/n I’m not doin’ it to hurt you two.”

You froze for a moment before looking away. Thoughts of how it could be different with him not having the damn job. However, he was right he wasn’t doing it to hurt you. “I told Price to call someone else but…he needed me for what I know.” You slowly looked at him as Simon looked the other direction. “I fought the old man about it for days. I didn’ say nothin’ cause I knew you would be upset. I didn’t notice that I was pushing you and our princess away. Just-just tried to figure out how to get out of it…I’m sorry.”

Now you felt even more bad. He tried to fight not to go and fought for the two of you. You inhaled but don’t exhaled afraid of sobbing once more. The moment Simon looked at you, you sobbed and hid your face with your hands. “I didn’t-I’m so sorry Simon.”

Simon walked around and shook his head as he turned the chair to gently pull you on for a hug. “Baby I should have said something and not fought it alone.”

You sobbed and sobbed as everything came down. “I’m so tired Si. I am tired of being awake so damn early. I am tired of cooking. I am tired of not being able to do anything. I am tired of fighting with you. I am sorry Simon. I should have been m-more understanding. You don’t deserve me. You don’t deserve to marry such a bitch. I have been so ru…”

He gently pushed you off to grab your wrists to show your face. Simon smiled softly before grabbing your chin with his thumb and finger. “I know. I know. You been overwhelmed with so much. We will figure it out yeah? It’s okay, we are fine. I married you for you even when it’s rocky. It won’t always be perfect.”

You calmed down a bit as you leaned into his touch. “Okay.”

The kettle goes off as Simon kissed your forehead to walk over. You sat still as Simon came around. “I will be here right now, try my best to help you my love.”

You looked up and saw him, his eyes glowing with love. You inhaled and nodded as he pulled you back into his chest. You snuggled in and felt warmth throughout your body. God no one deserves Simon Riley.

[sturnlsstuff]

Yooo whenever you can, are you down to write something about a reader that constantly gives chris cuteness aggression? <3 thx in advance !!

WHEN YOUR BOYFRIEND IS SO CUTE, YOU JUST CAN'T HELP YOURSELF.

[fluff, no warnings really] - this is like my first time writing fluff so i hope it's not that bad 😭

you and chris were similar in many ways and clinginess was definitely one of them. there was no day when you two wouldn't touch each other. no matter if it was a full cuddling session, holding hands, his arms wrapped around your waist when you were cooking or just simply his hand on your thigh, while eating dinner with him and his brothers.

so he was never surprised when you'd randomly start showing him affection, but sometimes there were days when you were going crazy.

"kid, you serious?" chris asks, raising his eyebrows when you wrapped your arms and legs around his body like a koala. "i gotta go film a video, nick and matt are already waitin'—"

"i don't want you to gooooo..." a little pout forms on your lips, but even if he really would love to stay here with you, he had things to do.

chris stands up from the bed causing you to hang onto his body, trying not to fall. he wasn't holding you, thinking it would make you let go of him, but it didn't.

"baby, please, matt will get all grumpy that 'm late and shit, and i really don't wanna listen to that."

"ugh, fine" you say, but before letting go of him, you kiss all over his pretty face, "i love youuuuu."

another day, chris would wear his bear beanie that you just loved so much. he knew it, but he wasn't aware of how much you really liked when he was wearing it.

you found yourself curled up in his lap, your arm wrapped around his shoulders, head resting against his chest while he traced patterns on your thigh with his finger. the both of you decided to watch spongebob in the living room, but you preferred starring at chris instead, your heart pounding in your chest.

"you should wear this more often," you mutter, smiling up at him once he locks eyes with you. you give him a quick kiss on the lips, then on the cheek.

"oh, really?" he raises his eyebrows, his lips curve into a smile, "are ya even watchin'?"

"sure, i am. watching you counts?"

chris can't help but chuckle, which causes your heartbeat speed up. the warm in your chest only he could make you feel. you wrap your arms around his waist tightly, almost as if you were afraid that once you let go he disappears. almost squeezing him, you kiss along his jaw.

"ow, fuck, can i at least breathe?" he laughs, getting slightly flustered at how clingy you were. obviously his slightly flushed cheeks don't go unnoticed by you.

"awwww, you're kinda blushin'," another kiss on the cheek, you play with the small, little bear ears on the top of his beanie, then eventually taking it off. noticing his messy hair, you can't help but run your hand through it and starts playing with them. you rest your cheek against his chest, looking up at him with a smile. "you're so cutie princess."

chris gives you a death stare, making you smile even more, "are you fuckin' serious right now?? 'm a big boy, not some princess 'n shit."

"my princessssss." you say on purpose, knowing it's driving him crazy. "i love you," at your response he just shakes his head in disbelief, you could feel a slow, rhythmic beat of his heart against your cheek, "a loooot."

whether he wanted it or not, your words and how you act in general, makes him really happy, warmth spreads inside his chest. chris gives you a kiss on the forehead, causing your cheeks to heat.

"i love my girl," you shove your face further into his chest, "so fuckin' much."

his words only causes you to kiss him like a thousand more times through the whole evening, your body wrapped around him, not letting go even for a second until the both of you fall asleep, cuddled up on the couch.

@certifiedstarrr @chrislovespepsi @le4hsblog @sturnsxbitvh @sweetlikesug4rvenom @xaristhings @mattsfavbitchhh @lvrsturniolo @r0s3luvr @slut4brunettes @madisonsturnioloss @chrispillowprincess

[billornot]

"Su-ho-ya. I`m sorry that I`m late."

[pitchsidestories]

After Midnight II Sydney Lohmann x Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 1377

summary: Sydney wants to confess her love to reader as the clock strikes midnight on New Year's Eve. requested

author's note: thank you, anon for sending us the request, enjoy. ❤️❤️

The New Year’s Eve party was well underway in the picturesque old flat which offered a wonderful view of Munich. Dance music was blasting from the speakers. 

The balloons with 2025 printed on them were either on the floor or the ceiling.

Laura Freigang had set up a little photobooth in the corner of the living room where the guests could take photos with a Polaroid camera. 

“Tonight, I’ll tell her.”, Sydney Lohmann thought.

The Bayern Munich footballer only realised that she had said it out loud when the Frankfurt player replied to her sentence. An unconvinced laugh left the forward’s lips: “Sure, Syd.”

Her doubtful reaction only made it clearer to Sydney that tonight was about telling you about her feelings for you or keeping quiet about them forever.

“What? You don’t believe me?”, she asked the German national teammate.

With an amused twinkle in her blue eyes, Laura shook her head: “You’ve been saying that for months.”

Each of the Bayern Munich players who attended the New Year’s Eve party had an opinion on Sydney’s crush. The crush which was you was the only guest who hasn’t arrived yet.

“Literally. It got to the point that it was annoying.”, Klara teased her.

In a jokingly tone, Georgia added: “And that’s coming from Klara herself.”

“Excuse me? So rude. Maybe I should consider joining Barcelona in the summer.”, she pouted.

“No, you won’t do that.”, Sydney observed smiling.

Excitedly, the Scottish Sam Kerr intervened: “Girls, Syd’s crush is coming!”

“Perfect time, we can finally continue drinking.”, the English midfielder remarked in good spirits.

“I’ll get us a new round.”, Laura announced cheerfully.

You entered the room slightly ashamed, knowing full well that you were the last to arrive, even though it wasn't your fault. While you apologized your cheeks turned hot: “I’m so sorry, I know ‘m late, you can blame the MVG for that, but at least I got the dessert to make up for it.”

“Oh, no problem”, Sydney waved it off before helping you take off your winter coat and revealing your New Year's Eve outfit underneath.

The fellow football player admired the view, then she cleared her throat awkwardly: “Just glad you’re here.”

Her truthfulness caught you off guard, so the next words tended to stumble out of your mouth.: “ Me too. What I mean is.. I’m glad to be here with all of you.”

“Uhm, would you like a drink?”, Syndey offered, licking her lips nervously.

“Yes, please.”, you agreed.

With a silent nod she turned towards Laura who was in charge of the drinks that night: “Lau, can you make her one too?”

“Of course!”, the Frankfurt player replied happily, getting up to start mixing another drink.

“Thanks.”

A few moments later, she came over to you with your finished drink. As Laura handed you the glass, she winked and whispered: “Do everything I would do too.”

“That’s horrible advice.“, Sydney chuckled.

“Honestly.“, you agreed, taking a sip of the sweet drink to hide the blood rushing into your cheeks.

Sydney shook her head with a dismissive hand gesture: “Ignore her, she already had a few drinks.”

You watched as Laura retreated and sat back down with Klara and the other Bayern players: “Laura sounded pretty sober to me. How are you?”

The midfielder seemed to be surprised by your question, her eyes widened slightly and she blinked a few times: “I’m fine. Why?”

“You look a bit nervous. Don’t you like fireworks? Klara said we can do some sparklers later…”

“I’m not nervous, I’m totally fine.”, she said but she started to look even more horrified at your assumptions which made it hard to believe her.

“Okay.”

“Anyone wants some snacks?”, she suddenly changed the topic and your heart dropped at an instant, hoping you didn’t offend her.

“I do!”, Klara yelled from the other side of the room.

You watched quietly as Sydney disappeared into kitchen, followed by a concerned looking Laura.

While Sydney plated some pre-made snacks on a tray, Laura watched her with her arms crossed in front of her chest: “The operation Truth isn’t going too well so far, right?”

“I can’t do it right now, that would be weird.”, Sydney replied with her back to her German teammate.

“Weird? Why? For how much longer do you want to wait, Syd? Forever or until midnight?”

“Laura!”

“You know it’s true.”

Finally, the Bayern midfielder turned around and sighed: “I will tell her at midnight, don’t worry.”

Laura gave one satisfied nod, her facial features relaxing: “Good.”

“Here, take those snacks outside.”, Sydney said and put the tray into the Frankfurt players hands.

“Okay, but it’s getting closer to midnight.”, Laura reminded her.

One more frustrated sigh from Sydney made clear that she didn’t want to talk about it: “Laura, I got it all under control.”

That was the only thing you heard from their conversation.

“Under control? Kitchen emergency?”, you grinned as you walked in.

Sydney quickly shook her head: “No, all good. Would you like Laura to make you another drink?”

“Oh, I’m fine.”, you assured her.

The midfielder sighed relived: “Okay, great.”

“But can we talk?”, you asked her, nervously playing with a strand of hair and waiting for her answer.  

She looked at you, taken by surprise: “Now?”

“I guess it has time until after the countdown.”, you bit your lip.

“Are you sure?”, Sydney raised an eyebrow at you.

“You tell me.”, you replied and passed the ball back to her.

“Okay, let’s talk about it in the new year.”, the blonde decided and ran a hand through her loose hair.

Suddenly you heard yourself speaking your inner thoughts out loud :”Do you think it’s better to be quiet than to speak up?”

 “What do you mean?”, she frowned in confusion.

You shrugged your shoulders, slightly frustrated: “Doesn’t matter, let’s join the others on the balcony.”

To your great surprise, Sydney held on to your upper arm with her hand so that you couldn't go on to the other women, who could hardly wait for it to be 2025 and for them all to start a new chapter in their lives.

“Why are you being so secretive tonight?”, she wanted to know from you alarmed.

You glance calmly into her blue eyes: “I’m not, you’re so weird tonight too.”

“I’m not weird.”, the midfielder huffed.

Your heart sank as you questioned: “When what is it what you’re not telling me?”

“Who said I do?”, Sydney returned the question.

There was a touch of helplessness in your voice while your friends counted down the minutes until it was midnight in the background: “Syd..”

“Fine. I like you, y/n. I really like you.”, she admitted.

You gently framed her face with your hands and confessed: “Sydney, I like you the same way.”

“Wait, you do?”, the light-haired woman mumbled in astonishment.

Your mouth felt dry once you confirmed: “Yes.”

“You mean, not just like friends.”, Sydney pressed on.

“More like lovers.”, you clarified, your heart pondering hard against your chest.

The blonde sheepishly smiled at you: “Can I kiss you?”

A nod of the head was enough to make her do exactly what she had asked. The lights of the fireworks outside and the one inside you caused by the kiss rang in the new year.

“Happy New Year.”, you heard Georgia yelling.

The two of you were in your own world. “Y/n, Happy New Year.”, Sydney whispered into your ear, giving you chills all over your body before kissing you again.

“Oh my God, Klara, get the champagne out”’, Laura first spotted you two, her voice filled with excitement. 

A loud laughter escaped the younger forward’s lips: “Laura, the champagne is already out.”

“Yes, but now we’ve to celebrate Sydney’s confession.”, the Frankfurt player explained smirking.

Sydney tried to sound nonchalantly:” Girls, it’s not a big deal.”

“Yes, please ignore us so we can go back to kissing.”, you added with a mischievous smile.

Klara observed delighted about what just has happened: “Great start into the New Year.”

“We agree.”, Sydney and you said at the same time, each of you erupting into a warm laughter as the sparklers were lit mirroring the lightness you felt when your lips touched hers.

gif source: https://www.tumblr.com/glimmerofawesome/691962444197855232?source=share

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

"I gotta get up, babe. 'M s'posed to go meet up with Aaron," Daryl drawled, sleep still coloring his voice.

You only moved into him more tightly and nuzzled your face in against his neck, pressing your lips softly to his skin. Daryl's eyes closed and he let out a sigh that made you smile.

"Why're ya doin' this to me?" he said, a smile in his voice. His arm looped around and pressed you into him.

"Because," you said, kissing his neck again, "I'm tired of being the sensible one all the time. It's my turn to be unreasonable."

Daryl laughed lightly and you could feel it reverberating in his chest. "I see. Well, you can explain to Aaron why 'm late then."

You shook your head. "Nope. Not my problem," you said with a grin, moving over him and running your fingers through his wavy hair.

Daryl chewed on his bottom lip, looking up at you straddling his hips, that mischievous smile crinkling the corners of your eyes. "Ahh, I'll come up with somethin'," he said, gripping your hips.

Prompt: "I'm tired of being the sensible one."

[slliphylla]

I know I´m late but I liked how this perspective and color practise ended (I really got carried away in the end haha)  I really like the color pallete of this skin and its inspiration from the Sonic Channel illustration. The concept was really fun to draw.

[the-kr8tor]

Hii I have short drabble prompt how about the reader makes plushies of them and Hobie similar people making hello Kitty of themselves and partner hope having good day/night

Hi, lovely! I hope this is what you meant! Thank you for requesting ❤️❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, subtle talk of marriage, lovestruck! Hobie, fluff

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

The ribbon in your hands is soft and silky to the touch. Your music blares in your ears as you wrap his anniversary present, you still can't believe that you and Hobie have been going strong for a year now. A year full of love and annoying each other with teasing remarks. You smile at the fond memories flitting through your mind like a film roll showing you all the best bits.

Finally tying the ribbon to perfection, you stare proudly at how well you packaged his gift. The box is covered in checkered wrapping paper with the ribbon in the same ruby hue. Now that you're staring at it, the present looks more like a Christmas gift than an anniversary present.

Your pride takes a hit, shoulders slumping down at the thought. “Shit.” Now you gotta start all over again, preferably with new wrapping paper. Maybe something that has hearts on it will be better? Or something that matches with the gift you've painstakingly worked hard on for weeks will fit better? Or will that be too on the nose?

Thinking very hard on a very hard decision, you don't hear the sound of keys outside your flat, and the unmistakable jiggle of the doorknob as it opens with a squeak.

“You need some oil on this, lovie—” he stops in his tracks when you don't immediately greet him with a hug or a loud ‘Hobie!’ the second he enters. He finds it…weird to not be cuddled right away. You've spoilt him.

Hobie tilts his head to the side, peeking through the open kitchen only to not find you whistling a tune while making something sweet. Pocketing the spare key you gave him so that he stops popping up from your fire escape, he crosses the modest flat in hopes of finding you. Lest his surprise goes to waste, or worse, eaten by London pigeons.

Knocking on the bedroom door, he calls your name sweetly with a sing-song lilt. Of course he didn't forget what day it is today. How could he when it's been marked on his calendar since the day you said yes to him being your boyfriend? He has been counting down the days, annoyingly so to the gang at spider society, who are probably waiting for the news on how the day went.

“Love?” He peeks inside when you don't answer, he knows you're in there when he can hear the blaring music from where he's standing. A grin spreads across his pierced lips, seeing how your hips are gently swaying to the music, arms crossed in front of you like you're in deep contemplation.

Sneaking in, it doesn't take much for him to go unnoticeable by you when your music is ear burstingly loud. He looks over your shoulder to look at what's got your pants in a twist, his eyes widens when he sees the finely wrapped gift, grin getting bigger at how excited he is to open it.

But before he could surprise you, hoping that he'll hear you screech so loud that the neighbours would complain about the noise, you're unfurling the ribbon already with a gentle tug.

“Wait— oi!” He immediately wraps his arms around your middle, effectively stopping you from opening his present. Your shocked scream pierces his eardrums more than your music.

“Holy— Hobie?!”

“That's right, lovie.” He smirks at your shocked expression. When you tilt your head to look at him, he presses a surprise kiss on the tip of your nose, effectively flustering you in his arms.

You swear your legs would've given out if not for his arms around you. “What— you're early!”

“Y’know what they say, early bird gets the present.” He chuckles at your forced laugh. “‘sides, I think ‘m late because you're already openin’ my present.”

“How presumptuous,” you lean against his warm chest, mirroring his grin. “Maybe this isn't yours.”

“You sure that's not my name on the card?”

“I'm pretty sure it's not your name.” You tamp down a chuckle.

“Who’s it for then?” He raises a brow, a teasing smirk on his lips. “Ned?”

“Close, it's for James.”

“That bloody wanker doesn't even know your last name!” He squeezes you tighter, lifting you up from your feet, and face nuzzling the crook of your neck, effectively tickling you.

“And you do?!” You say in between laughter, riling him up further.

He stops for reprieve and air, still squeezing you in his arms. “Fuck yeah I do!”

“What is it then, Mr. Brown?” You raise your chin at him like you're challenging him.

“You just said it, love.” Your cheeks feel like it's on fire, smile faltering for a second before it's replaced with a lopsided grin. “Or it'll be in a few years I bet.”

You bite your lip to tamp down any giddy laughter from escaping. “Care to bet good money on it?”

“Nah, it'll be cheatin’ because I already know I'll win.” He winks at you all suave like, and pressing another chaste yet affectionate kiss on your searing cheek. Letting you go, and fixing your balance once his arms aren't around you anymore, he walks towards his gift. “What's this then?”

“It wouldn't make sense if I told you now, Hobie.” You sigh out, completely lovestruck with him that your legs refuse to stand up as you plummet down on the bed with a squeak.

Hobie picks the box up gingerly, “why were you openin’ it?”

You shrug on the mattress. “I thought it looked too Christmas-ssy. I was about to change the wrapping until you shocked me into a near heart attack.”

“‘cus of all the red?” He's trying incredibly hard not to rip the wrapping open to see his present. He sits down next to you with your gift gingerly placed on his lap.

“Mm-hmm,” you lay on your side, cheek squished on the bed. “You can open it, you know.”

“Thank fuck, I was holdin’ back.”

He's much more gentle at opening the gift even though he's itching to see what's inside. In the end the wrapping is still intact and the ribbon is wrapped around his head like a bandana, courtesy of a playful you.

“Fuckin' hell, is that me?” He looks at the inside of the box then to you, “and…You!” His childish giggling echoes around your room. You smile as he lifts both plushies up from its cardboard confinement. “Did you make these?” Hobie holds them up side by side.

His plushie is as soft and cuddly as the real one, complete with his regular spiky and leather fit. His eyes are buttons that are in the same shade as his hazel ones, you've even captured his signature smirk through the stitching. Yours is just as accurate as the real one, you're wearing your favourite outfit, the one you wore on your first real date with him. But with the added touch of his spiked bracelet that he gave you on your third date with him. All made by you from scratch.

A sudden shyness envelopes you like a blanket. Hands clammy and chest heavy. “Do you like them?”

“Love,” he makes a face, wordlessly saying 'really?’ with his handsome face. “I fuckin' love it!” Pouncing on you, he embraces you as he lays atop you. Calloused hands cradling your cheeks whilst he peppers your face with warm and affectionate kisses. “You're a bloody wizard, how the fuck did you make these so perfectly?” He says as he lifts himself above you, beaming down at you with endearment.

“I had to stare at your picture for hours on end.” You act like it was a tedious task. You loved making the plushies with all of your heart.

“A win win then?” Tilting his head, he can't help but smile even more that his cheeks are starting to hurt.

“Absolutely.” You say with a chuckle, “I also started on a Spider-Man suit for plushie you, but I haven't finished it yet.”

“You goddamn angel.” He coos, “don't finish it yet, let me help you, yeah?” You nod as he leans closer to etch his lips upon yours. But he stops halfway, paused as he stares at your blissful face while your eyes are closed and lips pursed in waiting. “First…” you crack one eye open, lips still puckered together. He squeezes your lips together playfully with his index and thumb before letting go as you fake a pout. “You need to see your present.”

Hobie lifts himself off you in one swift motion. “What is it?”

“That beats the purpose of a surprise, innit?” In one fell swoop, he pulls you off the bed, standing you back up. “C’mon then.”

“Wait, hold on!” He's already walking out towards the fire escape. Picking up the plushies, you connect their hands together. The magnet you've stitched inside pulls the soft hands together like they're holding hands. “Ta da! I almost forgot I did that.”

Hobie looks at you in awe. “You never fail to surprise me, lovie.” He says it so sweetly that you almost melted into a puddle right there and then. “Bring them with.”

You take a step forward, arms full of the mini Hobie and you. “Wait, we're swinging to get there?”

He shrugs with the familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. “There's traffic.”

Meeting with him, he immediately pulls you towards him with a strong sturdy arm. “You better not fake drop me, Hobie.” You say as he gestures for you to wrap your legs around his hips.

Standing up, he climbs over the balcony, feet precariously perched on the thin metal. “That was one time, love.” With one hand, he holds you in place, the other is raised and aiming towards the nearest building.

“One time too many—!” He jumps off and you feel your stomach leave your body. His cackling can be heard above the rushing wind kissing your cheeks.

[koyotespeaks]

first encounter

minors dni pls

you’re late to your friend’s birthday. they’re throwing a party at the popular italian restaurant in the city centre, and even invited a “new friend” of theirs for you “to meet”, whatever that means. and you’re late.

your mood is sour solely because of your inability to choose an outfit.

you sneak in, your friend group loud as ever in the middle of the dining hall. hardwood oval table bustling with wines and delicious food. you feel even smaller. why are you so lost today?

catching your friend’s eyes in a silent apology you wave for everybody to see.

“sorry, guys, ‘m late again,’ you raise your hands in a gesture of surrender.

“‘t was worth it, honey.”

your eyes snap to the source of the husky remark, the compliment.

dark hair, huge shoulders. a mustache. a very smug smile. you weigh him with your gaze for a moment.

“thank you.” as simple as it was it did send tingles down your spine.

“my pleasure. John,” he introduces. the sly bastard.

you take a seat nearest to him, making a show of it because maybe you liked the compliment. and the guy’s intense eye contact. John, you repeat in your head.

once your plump behind is comfortably seated in the chair next to him, and you’ve managed to accidentally brush knees, you hold out your hand to greet him and say your name, as sweetly as you can, for him. as a thank you. because yes, you liked the attention.

you glance him over once again, admitting to yourself that your friend knows you a little better than you’d like and make a mental note of the way John’s shirt sits tight on his chest, and of his thighs, spread wide, and of his thick fingers you are sure can spread you wide.

very well, you think. a comfortable buzzing pit sets in your stomach, the cause something else entirely than the riches on the table.

somehow, by the end of the dinner, you’re hungrier than you were before.

ai companies can fuck right off i do not consent to feed their models with my writing

[bluehourbucky]

Don't forget

pairing Sam Wilson/ Captain America × nurse!reader

summary: Sam sometimes forgets he's a human

a/n: Cap looked extra delicious in Brave New World so I just had to. also do I really need to mention WWDITS any chance I get? Absolutely.

~

It's past 2am and you're wide awake, sleep just won't come to you. Not while you're worried, not when your boyfriend is out there fighting. It's not foreign to you to be awake for so many hours of the day or night, being a nurse you're used to it. Although a hard job one of the hardest, it's so rewarding, you love helping people, might be the eldest daughter trauma but still you love being needed.

And luckily this job somehow brought you Captain America, someone who you now keep close to your heart, even though he's the hardest patient ever.

It wasn't hard falling for Sam, not only is he incredibly handsome and funny but he has the biggest softest heart, and is genuinely one of the best people you've met. He is simply just a good person.

You're watching What We Do In The Shadows for god knows what time, since it helps you when you're anxious. Sam was supposed to be back hours ago and he's not answering his phone neither is Joaquin. He told you countless times that he'll always be back but it doesn't help at all. Not even when you know he's has the best Wakandan tech.

When you hear a soft knock you're on your feet in no time, Sam stopped carrying keys with him months ago since he kept losing them and changing the locks was getting expensive.

The sight you're met with breaks your heart, Sam stands there leaned on the wall next your door, blood is dripping down his temple, goggles in his hands, his suit almost black with dirt and dried blood you assume.

"Sam..." you say softly.

"Sorry 'm late." Sam stumbles a bit but catches himself. He looks bad, bruised and like he's going to pass out.

"Come here let me help you." he goes to protest but he already knows it's a fight he'll lose.

This isn't the first time this happened and by now Sam knows to let you do your job. At first he hated that you wanted to take care of him because he didn't want to make you work after a long shift, but later he realised you do it because it helps you stay calm.

You would be restless unless you took a look at his injuries as Sam knew to brush then over, tell you it's fine convince other doctors that he isn't hurt.

But now that's something neither of you can do without.

You lead him to the bathroom with ease, like you've done so many times before but not before helping him take off his boots and wings.

It takes you a while to take off Sams suit even with his help. He is trying so hard not to react to the pain but he's failing miserably, he can't fool you. You thow his suit in a laundry basket like it's not one of the most advanced suit a person could have.

When Sams finally in his boxers only you take in all of him, assess his wounds and this time it's a lot. The first thing you check is his head, which luckly is mostly fine, beside the cut above his eyebrow but everything else well that's a different story. There's so much bruising everywhere, his shoulder is dislocated and he has a stab wound in his side.

"You should see the other guy." He jokes and laughs, which then makes him hiss.

"Sam it's not funny and hold your hand there." you put his hand over the stab wound, and turn to get a towel and the first aid kit(one of many you have at home for these exact circumstances).

Sam is silent and just watches you work, your gentle touch grounds him, makes him forget about the pain. You cleaned up most of the dirt and blood so you can properly take a look at wounds and mend them. The first one you tackle is his side and then his shoulder.

"On three?" you say as you hold his shoulder to put it back,Sam only nods in response.

"One, Two-"

"FUUUCKING HELL THAT'S TWO NOT THREE!"

"Sorry babe. But this is better trust me." You smile a little at his offended expression.

"Seriously?" you only roll your eyes at him.

"That's hurt like a bitch." Sam mumbles, making you giggle.

After finally patching him, you take a look at him and you're overwhelmed. He looks fine physically, he'll heal and even though he's the one with injuries somehow you're the one falling apart.

"Baby girl, what's wrong?" Sam asks, lifting his good arm to wipe a tear that was sliding down your cheek. You didn't even realise you were crying.

"Sam why do you do this to yourself, you keep getting yourself hurt, and it's worse every single time. It's like you forget you're a regular human being." It hurts you to say it but you had to, it's getting out of hand and you're scared that one day he won't come back to you.

"It's my job, you know this."

"It's not your job to die! You cant help anyone if you're dead!" you yell out, your whole body is shaking, you look at your bloody hands and then at Sam who stood up.

"Its like you don't even care about yourself."

"That would be selfish. Steve put others first that's why he was great he fought for the greater good. No matter what. I have to carry his legacy, I ha-"

"But you're not Steve and you're not a super soldier. You're a human Sam. And he wouldn't want you doing this. Its careless and stupid."

It's silent for a few moments. Sam stands there unmoving.

"It's like you forget you're a person first, someone who is loved who has people that care for you. Not Captain America but Sam Wilson just a brave good man. A friend, a boyfriend and hopefully my forever person."

You keep your eyes on him the whole time, determined to make him hear you and accept the words.

"You're not expendable. There can always be more super soldiers but you are not replaceable. The shield is not your strength its your heart." you say pressing your hand on his chest above his heart,which he covers with his own hand

Sam takes a deep breath, absorbing your words.

"I'm sorry, I get lost in my head and the burdens of the shield that I forget my own humanity. Im sorry love. I don't want to worry you but its hard to remember that sometimes. I promise to do better."

"Sam you don't have to do better just try not to forget that you're loved."

he squeezes your hand on his chest and lifts it up and places a soft kiss at the back of it.

"I won't make promises but I can try."

"That's enough for me, for now." you smile and nuzzle into his hand that cupped your cheek. Sam then hugs you close inhaling the comforting smell of you.

"It's such a shame you're hurt, I had so many plans for tonight." you say as you shamelessly run your hands over his biceps and abs.

Sam lifts his brow as he looks into your signature teasing smile reserved for the bedroom.

"Im not that hurt."

"Sure you're not, Cap." you wink and kiss him before you leave him standing in the bathroom as he watches your back, your(his) shirt rising up which uncovers his absolute favorite lingerie set.

~

[onlyrains]

[6:35pm]

“change your clothes.” eunji said as you manage to bandage your little wound.

“i'm good, really.”

“your shirt soaked in orange juice, smarty. my dad won't let you sit for dinner in those.”

you sigh. this sleepover was everything you talked about since last month. like, you finally have to experience it like other people. moreover, you'd stay at your close-knit friend's! moreover, she has a brother you've always had a crush on!

he is the one and only, school's top athlete, heeseung. but you knew you almost ruined it with hurting yourself in the kitchen then spilled the orange drink all over your shirt.

“just get anything from my wardrobe over there,” eunji pointed as she walks to the bathroom, bringing the first aid box you previously needed with her. “i need to pee,”

“is it okay?”

“it's okay!” her voice echoed in bathroom walls.

you open the thin door to see piles of clothes neatly arranged. except the brown shirt on top shelf that caught your attention first. that is your best and only option. you reach for the flannel shirt and wear it without any mind.

the bathroom door opened, “let's go.” eunji held your wrist to go back to the dining room.

receiving a no reaction from her, you assume that she approved the oversized shirt you wear. although it is like three times your size, even the collar is barely touched your shoulder and revealing the tanktop strap underneath, you have no problem with it. your nose already welcoming its soft scent and you love it. maybe eunji have worn it and spray a perfume.

“it smells so good!” you commented when eunji's mom busy with plating her food.

“oh, you're back. your finger's okay?”

you nod. “it's fine. don't worry.”

“have a sit then. you need to try my best cookings, darling,”

“mom,” eunji sighed after seeing her mom basicslly jumped on her toes, followed by the chuckle of her dad while preparing the cutlery.

you laugh and help to arrange the plates a bit before sitting down on the available chair. ready to dig in whatever your best friend's mom serve.

“sorry, 'm late!”

everyone turned their head on the same direction, ready to welcome the tallest person in the house. oh, there he is. with his signature beanie, he looks so attractive as always except now you're seeing him in his house. his demeanor suddenly feels so domestic as he greets his parents first before turn to his sister and you.

one eyebrow raised when his gaze met yours. “oh?”

“don't mind us.” eunji quickly responds. oblivious with the loud thumping on your chest.

“i didn't know your friend will be join us today.”

“now you know.” eunji rolled her eyes while you bit your inner lower lip.

you don't know how to react naturally. your forever crush is sitting right next to you, stealing glances. he facing his father at the end of the table makes it hard for him to reach for the food.

“let me help,” you said nervously with a quiet voice you've ever had. he hands you his plate with a smirk plastered on his lips. noticing your nervousness around him.

“thank you.” he whispers teasingly.

lucky-unluckily to you, eunji have been too focus to argue with her parent about their vacation plan to jeju next week. leaving you and heeseung alone with a strange tension between you two.

or maybe not for heeseung. it's just you.

“is that my shirt?” he whispered again.

your eyes widened by the realization. “oh, i didn't know. i'm so sorry,”

he chuckle at your pikachu shocked face. “easy,” he cut his meat.

“no, really. i'll return it tomorrow.”

“aren't you having a sleep over?”

you nod. “that's fine, i'll wash it and return it tomorrow by—”

“you can keep it.”

your eyes widened again. “really?—i mean, no. i'm sorry, it belongs to you.”

he laughs. “it looks good on you.”

you freeze, almost had a heart attack while look at him with a big doe eyes. he reciprocated, expecting that you would offer another apology bar. but you didn't.

his gaze lingers without knowing those big eyes will be his weakness from now on.

a/n: my first kpop drabble is finally here!!!! i just feel to try something new and here i am! hope you enjoy it<3 btw i got prompt from my lovely mutual @star2fishmeg ❤️

[red-d4mage]

i;m late to the ternd

its funny bc i drew miles and gwen like this last year