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[basicrese]

Hi!!!! Love you btw

Could you maybe write a beefy!james where reader is also friends with the marauders and they’re all hanging out, and James and reader only recently became an official couple, and James is super affectionate with pda and pet names and reader is super flustered and shy which is totally unlike her normally (she’s very sarcastic and talkative normally but James has her a blubbering mess)

Being with James makes you feel that floaty, out of body feeling where you're not sure what to do with yourself. He's always smiling, and kissing some part of your face, or holding your hand or just holding you close, it makes your chest heat.

You're meeting his friends for drinks as he celebrates his team making it into the major leagues and you're dressed casually for the pub you're currently in-a pair of dark jean shorts and James' jersey.

James hasn't stopped touching your thighs or running his palm down your back since he's come in. He smells like turf and a bit of his usual cinnamon spiced cologne.

"I can't believe you're already wearing his shirt." Sirius says as he throws himself into the booth opposite you and James. His comment is followed up with Remus slotting himself into the booth beside him and rolling his eyes.

"She's had a jersey for years, Sirius."

You nod and go to chime in when James drops his hand to your thigh again and your breath hitches. His slighted rough palm squeezes, his thumb stroking the soft dough of your thighs with a distracted smile.

You feel your pulse pound in your throat at how casual he does it. Sparing a glance at him, you find James looking directly at his friends, not a lick of disguised teasing playing at his lips at all. That worsens the pounding in your chest.

"I think she looks lovely in it," He praises and you fluster even more, finding it more than a little difficult to make your mouth form words. Gods, you can hear the blood rushing in your ears.

Sirius rolls his eyes, "Course you do, you perv." Sirius looks to you at his joke, ready for your agreement like he's accustomed to, but you're busy sucking down the last of your vodka soda.

Remus hides a smirk as he catches on. "How does it feel to be part of the big leagues now, Jamie?" he saves you from any awkward silence with his question which you're grateful for. rr

James doesn't seem to notice the effect he's having on you, not when his hand dips between your thighs and remains there as he responds to Remus easily. "It's good, exciting. I know it's going to be a lot more hours training and a bit of a graft, but it should be exciting more than anything else."

A waiter appears with the wings and chips you and James had ordered while waiting for his friends, "Plus I've got a pretty cute cheerleader to make happy at every game so it's good motivation." James kisses the corner of your mouth as you take a chip, your entire body shivering at the contact.

"Y'okay, lovie?" he whispers, and you swear you almost pass away just then. His cologne is all you can smell, and his hand is still between your thighs and he's pressed up against you and you're really going to die because of how effortlessly attractive your boyfriend is- you just know it.

"I'm okay, Jamie. Have something to eat, baby." you say and Sirius almost chokes on how soft and lovelorn you sound.

"God they're sick." he murmurs to Remus who is very inclined to agree, especially when James just eats the chip right out of your hands.

[basicrese]

down bad | j. potter

summary: you're so in love with james potter but he's a little too good at giving you mixed signals that it might actually ruin you

pairing: james potter x reader

warnings: angst, a little fluff if u squint, and so much longing & yearning. omg so much of it

a/n: i am unfortunately completely obsessed with taylor swift's new album, so everything i'll write in the near future will be based on one of the ttpd songs (yey!) & this one's based on 'down bad.' feel free to send requests if u want pick the next song for me x

──────── 𑁍︎ ‧₊°

"So he just said no?" Mary all but hisses. Marlene shushes her, glancing around the classroom before leaning down from where she's sitting on your desk.

"Are you sure it didn't mean something else?" She rests her hand on yours. "Maybe it was just a misunderstanding. He wouldn't…he just wouldn't, right?" You smile weakly at her, then shake your head. She squeezes your hand.

"The note was pretty clear," you say with a soft sigh. The sentence rolls off your tongue with unhidden bitterness. "Sorry, can't. Need to catch up on some assignments."

You would show it to them, so they could see for themselves and maybe divert their sympathetic gazes from you. But you had set it on fire right after reading it, just like the other two notes friendly rejecting you. You still aren't sure why you did it. After all, you did just tell Mary and Marlene that you're fine. At least you will be. You should not be this devastated over some guy.

Even if that guy is James Potter.

James who is now strolling into the room with his mates, looking as invincible and full of life as he always has and always will.

Quickly, you force a smile at the girls and pull out the chair next to you. Marlene, bless her, gets the hint and lightly shoves Mary's shoulder to have her take the seat. You're going through your book bag, pulling out your inkwell when four bodies make their way past your desk.

"Ladies," comes Sirius cheerfully loud voice as he bows at the waist because, of course, he does. Peter and Remus aren't as dramatic with their greetings. The latter, however, does take the time to slow down in front of you until you look up and return his kind smile. Belatedly, you realise perhaps you shouldn't have done that. You lock eyes with James, who's right behind him.

He sends you an easy smile and a wink. Like he's letting you in on another one of his rare secrets. You're not sure if you're smiling back, but it's almost a given that you are.

He takes his seat behind you, laughing blithely at a joke Pete just told, and it's all so painfully charming that you want to die. You fear he will always make you feel like this. Like you're somehow the chosen one. It's such a sickening feeling, you can't help but whip around and look at Mary, pleadingly. Though, you're not sure what you're pleading for anymore.

She shoots you another unbearably sympathetic smile, looking like she's close to cooing at you. You sigh, hiding your face in the crook of your arms.

You can't help but think how easy it would be to just cry right here. It's embarrassing to admit, but you've done it plenty of times over the weekend after you had seen James out at Hogsmeade with the others. Miserably, you had realised that he was, in fact, not too busy working on his assignments. He just didn't want to spend time with you.

You almost let out a sob.

A hand rubs your back and you know it can only be Mary, but you let yourself believe that it's the universe consoling you, as if to say there, there because there's nothing fair about this and she knows it, but there's nothing she can do it about now, can she?

History of Magic passes in a blur. Before you know it, you're in the library, pouring all of yourself into an essay that you normally couldn't have cared less for. But you're willing to do whatever it takes to keep yourself busy. You know your thoughts will stray the moment you're lying quietly in bed anyway, awaiting another sleepless night.

You finish the sentence and look up, satisfied with your work. Apparently it's been a while since you've torn your gaze away from the parchment before you, seeing how stiff your neck is. You knead at the uncomfortable knot in your shoulder while looking around the library. It's relatively full today with every other seat being taken.

Which makes it all the more irritating when your gaze snatches on a figure sat at the other table right across from you. He's not even looking up, head bent over a book, but you would recognise that mop of unruly dark curls anywhere. James must've seen you when he came in, but that might have just been your hopeful self speaking.

Begrudgingly, you resume your writing and it takes everything in you not to look up every few minutes. To glimpse the slight furrow in his brows and the small pout of his lips as he's carefully reading every paragraph. You know he's likely looking for something to prepare for a prank. Normally, you would simply go over and ask him what he's up to. You know he'd happily tell you. But you're glad to have at least a little bit of pride and dignity left that keeps you rooted in your spot.

Seemingly not enough though since all you can think about is that there's no way he doesn't know that you're right there. It really does make you want to bang your head against the table. Maybe that would finally catch James' attention.

Pathetically, you glance at him only to notice that he's packing his things to leave. The tip of your feather goes back to the parchment so fast, it almost pierces it. You haven't got a clue what you're writing, too busy tracking James' movements from the corner of your eyes.

You watch him stand up, walking down the length of his table towards the door down the hall on his right. Then he stops. You hold your breath. James seemingly hesitates before fixing the strap of his bag on his shoulder. He turns left and walks towards you. You're staring at your hand as it writes illegible words, completely out of your control, when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

"Hey," James whispers when you look up, giving you a familiar grin and small wave. It's an innocent gesture, sweet, but there's almost something hostile about this encounter. Like you have no choice but to let him occupy every single one of your senses. You stare up at him, a matching smile sweeping over your lips before you can think better of it.

That's when you notice the scarf he's wearing and its frizzled ends. It's yours. You know it is.

Did he not give it back to you after one of your nights out together on the stands? After you had flown on your brooms, so close to the sea of stars that you could've dipped your fingertips in them? You could almost hear the echoes of your windblown laughters as the memory pushes itself into the foreground of your mind.

James is sitting still, rosy-cheeked, watching you with curious eyes while you babble on about the Leo constellation. He had just told you that you could do whatever you want to him—another quite maddening thing to casually say to someone—and now he's apparently keen on staying true to his word by letting you wrap your scarf around his neck.

It took some convincing before he'd finally accepted it from you. You promised that you wouldn't be cold with your high collared sweater, but James only gave in when you had accepted his wool hat in exchange.

He had carefully put it on you, smoothing down your hair and pulling out some loose strands to frame your face, mumbling something about how much lovelier his hat looked on you than on him. You told yourself that he surely must've known what it did to you when his knuckles brushed your cheeks. Right? Surely.

James pokes your side, chuckling, as if he sensed that your mind was drifting elsewhere. He cracks another joke, saying that if you were the one to teach him Astronomy, he might actually pay attention in class. He says it like it's a deal and you feel inclined to do whatever it takes to hold up your side of the bargain.

You laugh helplessly, feeling drunk on a little bit of everything; the stars above, James' gentle laughter, the familiar smell of broom wax and crisp winter air. This must be cosmic love, you think to yourself. Your breath clouds in front of you, becoming one with his. All the while, you're too aware of James' shoulder bumping into you, his leg pressed against yours. There's no one out here but you two.

You have all the room in the world, but James chose to sit this close to you. Probably close enough for him to hear your heart pounding. Did he do it for a reason? You'd love to know.

"You don't need me to pay attention in Astronomy," you find yourself saying in response, something daring laced in the drawl of your voice. His eyes flash, bright and a bit wild. It's the same look he gets after you challenge him to a race on your brooms. His grin grows wide, carefree, and oh so lovely.

"Please." His face comes impossibly closer and you lean in without another thought, eager to take whatever it is James will give you. You feel his breath on your lips.

"I will always need you, Y/N."

Somehow he makes it sound genuine.

Then he winks and leaves you a horrid, forsaken mess. Somehow he makes that feel like a nice gesture too.

Incredulously, you stare at him as he leans back, elbows resting on the seats behind him. James Potter, you think weakly, what are you doing to me? Not for the first time you ponder what you would do if you can't have him. You almost double over from the striking pain in your chest.

Then he points out another constellation and you nearly forget all about yourself. He's good at that. Never ceasing to show you that the world is bigger than the two of you. Making you forget and remember that you might be in love. Because what if you were in love?

James cups the back of his neck, then points towards the door of the library, almost shyly letting you know that he's leaving. You nod slowly, still dazed. A small smile crosses his lips before you watch him round the corner, his back disappearing from your sight.

You blink, letting out a ragged breath. You feel like you got the wind knocked out of you. Like you just lost your twin. Someone who knows you like no one else ever will. Someone who might just be your better half. Someone who sometimes makes you feel like they want nothing to do with you.

It's ridiculous, you think bleakly to yourself, you're so down bad.

And James Potter makes it feel like a curse and a blessing.

[basicrese]

Hardass

Chef!Sirius Black x mixologist!reader who survive a shift from hell

CW: fem!reader, mention of alchohol/drinking, fluff.

comes from a request from @maladaptiveescapism: chef!sirius and mixologist!reader. sirius is a chef at a fancy restaurant and maybe a mishap happens with booking and reader has to keep the people sitting at the bar waiting for a seat and she does such a good job because she’s flirty and fun and trained for this. sirius who always has such a short temper (chefs, am I right) secretly worships her because she’s the one thing he can count on

Sirius was fuming, to say the least.

He loved his job; he really did. The kitchens were his sanctuary, and it was the first place he fled to when he ran away from home at only sixteen. 

Though he knew Effie and Fleamont would have helped with anything he needed (or even wanted, for that matter), he didn’t want to become a burden or take advantage of their kindness. So, he found a part time job in a small family owned restaurant as a dishwasher.

Washing dishes became bussing tables. Bussing tables became hosting. Hosting became serving. He went from a server to a line cook, until finally someone took him under their wing, and Sirius made a name for himself.

Now he was a successful chef working in a successful restaurant and he certainly had made a name for himself.

That name? Hardass.

But it took a certain intensity to run the kind of kitchen that Sirius did, and he expected nothing short of greatness from the kitchen staff.

Fortunately for Sirius, it was the restaurant manager’s fuck up that caused tonights issues.

Unfortunately for Sirius, that fucked everything up for his staff in the kitchen. 

“So, quick question for you Jeffery; did you pass year four maths?” Sirius asked earnestly, watching Jeffery shove his tongue in his cheek to avoid snapping back at the glowering chef in all his tattooed intensity. “Because last time I counted, we don’t have this many sodding tables!” He continued, pointing at the number of reservations scheduled for tonight.

“Uh oh.” You carefully called out as you walked in through the front door, in the process of shucking off your jacket as you made your way towards the bar. “Looks like you could use a drink, chef.” 

Sirius was almost mad at how much of the rage seemed to settle down into a simmer at the sight of you; he didn’t want to calm down, he wanted to ring Jeffery’s fucking neck out.

But Jeffery, the coward, had used your entrance as a means to fuck off from whatever circle of Sirius’ personal hell he’d been summoned from. 

“We’re overbooked tonight.” Sirius grumbled as he sat dejectedly at your bar; mirroring what likely most of your patrons looked like as they spent their weekday evenings with you.

“Shit luck.” you sighed commiseratingly as you poured two shots of vodka and slid one to him. “Here’s to working our sodding asses off then, hm?” You said with a smirk as you touched your glass to his and threw it back like a pro. 

And you had indeed been right; the two of you had worked your sodding asses off tonight. But the difference between the two of you was astounding.

Sirius spent most of his evening sweating, cursing, and - more embarrassingly - shouting at the poor servers looking for their orders that ‘clearly weren’t fucking ready yet, were they?!’. 

But not you. 

Alright, did he take the opportunity to run out the odd plate for the servers just to steal a glance at you? Sure. Sue him. And everytime he did, he’d pass the very busy bar which was always full of couples and groups waiting for a table to clear. None of them seemed to mind, however, as they watched you shake, throw, spin, catch bottles like it was an olympic sport; all with a smile on your face and mischief in your eyes. 

It was as if they were your captive audience and you were thriving on stage. 

Sirius wanted to stay and enjoy the show; but you were working your arse off, and Sirius should be too.

Sirius’ feet were killing him, which meant most of his staff’s feet were worse; his shoulders ached, his head was pounding, and his fingers were raw.

But they made it to the end of the shift; and he supposed that was all that mattered.

He brought out two plates of the restaurant’s famous (read: Sirius’ famous) pasta alla gricia.

You were no longer wearing your beaming smile and Sirius could now see some of the weight of the night in your shoulders and the way your hair was falling as you reorganised your bar.

“Think you can take a break?” He asked as he sat at your freshly cleared bar and placed one plate in front of him and one behind the bar for you.

You startled, which Sirius thought strange for someone who seemed so confident and assured every time he’d walked past your bar for the past almost year the two of you have worked here, but he didn’t comment on it.

“Oh my God.” You groaned appreciatively as you abandoned your task to take in the plate he’d prepared for you. “I’m starving; thank you!”

Sirius chuckled and suddenly felt shy, which he did not think suited him at all, but you were smiling at him like he was your personal angel on earth and he couldn’t help but return the gaze.

“Let me get you a drink?” You asked, but turned to start pouring him a glass of wine (perfectly suited for the dish, mind you) before he had a chance to answer. 

You placed both drinks on the bar and brought your plate around to sit on the stool beside Sirius.

The two of you ate in relative silence; allowing the stress and exhaustion from the shift to wash over you. 

“I think I made Chloe cry.” Sirius said finally, causing you to snort.

“You did.” You agreed quickly. “She came and helped me in the bar for a bit and Jeffery had to run her tables after that.”

Sirius barked a laugh as he took a sip of his wine. “I was wondering why that sod was in my kitchen. Well, I’m sorry to Chloe, but happy to have put Jeffery to work.”

Speaking of the devil; Jeffery came out front with his jacket on and a work bag slung over his shoulder. 

“I’m heading out now; are you two okay to close up?”

You smiled at him, but unfortunately for Jeffrey, Sirius responded first. “Yes we can close up.” He sneered. “We’re not new here Jeffery.”

“Thanks Jeffery, have a nice night.” You relented; giving Sirius a gentle kick in the shin.

The door shut behind the bastard and Sirius felt his shoulders relax. “I hate that sod.”

Thankfully, you only laughed at him.

“I think you hate everyone here.”

“That’s not true.” Sirius disagreed quickly.

“Well you certainly don’t like anyone here.”

“That’s not true either. I quite like you.” Sirius admitted, quickly hoping to god his cheeks didn’t flush at his impromptu admission. 

You hummed in acknowledgement with a cheeky smile on your lips. “Is that why you made me dinner? As a thanks for being the most tolerable coworker?”

“Most tolerable, certainly. Also for saving our arses tonight in the kitchen; I’m not sure how you managed to keep those folks so happy all evening.”

“Oh, that’s easy; get them drunk and steal desserts from the kitchen.”

“That’s where all my tiramisu was going?” Sirius asked in faux contempt.

You only smiled at him and shoved the last bite of your pasta in your mouth.

“You minx.” He continued, taking the now empty plates to the kitchen as you followed dutifully behind him with the glasses. 

“Get out of my kitchen.” Sirius joked, plucking the wine glasses from your hands as he moved to wash the dishes.

“I’d think not.” You argued. “I got a free meal; put me to work, chef.”

“First of all, it was not a free meal; you more than earned it after your performance tonight. Secondly, don’t call me chef.”

“Why not? You are a chef, aren’t you?” You teased as you leaned sideways against the counter to watch him work.

“Yes; but if you call me chef, what am I supposed to call you?”

Your eyebrows raised at that. “What do you mean ‘what are you supposed to call me’? My name is fine.”

“My name’s not chef.” He countered.

Your eyes narrowed challengingly at him. “What do you want to call me, Sirius?”

Mine?

“Haven’t decided yet.” He said instead, keeping his eyes on the dishes in his hands instead of meeting your gaze currently burning into the side of his head.

“Well…” You started, walking over to release some paper from the chit, and scribbling something out on it. “Why don’t you just call me…tomorrow?” You said, handing him the paper after he dried his hands on a teatowel.

Your number was scrawled out with a dainty little heart beside it.

Sirius looked back up at you to see you smiling shyly at him.

“I can assure you I will be.” He promised.

Your smile grew at that as you began walking backwards towards the backroom. 

“Have a nice night, Sirius.” You said before you exited the kitchen.

It was too late to wish him a nice night; he’d already had one.

[basicrese]

Speak now

James Potter x Malfoy!Reader

Summary: If the marauders are against something, its agaisnt pureblood families ideologies. Sometimes that implies to wreak havoc on a white veil occasion.

Genre: Hurt/comfort, Fluff and a tiny bit of Angst. Arranged Marriage

CW: Forced Marriage, Familiar problems, talks about blood purity and blood traitors. Breaking into a weddig idk.

Word count: 2.2K

This is part of my Speak Now (Marauders’ version) collection 

“So don't say yes, run away now. I'll meet you when you're out of the church at the back door.

Don't wait, or say a single vow. You need to hear me out”

When you were younger you saw a fair amount of weddings. They were always presented to you as big emotional events in which two people promised eternal love to each other. 

Even when you didn't know anything about love as a kid, it was no wonder that you yearned to have your own wedding once you grew up. It was a dream to have your own white dress, a beautifully decorated venue and a partner you loved so deeply you’d be willing to spend your whole life with them. 

Looking back maybe you should’ve known better. The first sign should’ve been your surname. A Malfoy has expectations they have to meet, keeping the bloodline pure, for starters. 

The second one should’ve been your parents’ loveless marriage, when you were younger you used to wonder why they’d married at all, now it was quite obvious. 

The third and most evident should’ve been when Andromeda Black was disowned. At that time you didn’t truly understand what that entailed, and why it was such a hassle that she wanted to get married. Now you understood that the problem was not the wedding, if not the groom. 

All your fantasies about the commonly named ‘Big day’ were completely shattered when your 18th birthday came, and with it a letter from your parents which contained the name of your soon to be husband. You tried to fight it, which only made your parents move the date of the wedding forward and get you out of Hogwarts, your education didn’t matter anymore to them now that your future as a housewife was inevitable. And being away from Hogwarts also meant being away from the ‘bad influences’ in your life. 

Now the corset of your white dress was suffocating, you felt trapped. Looking at the mirror was like looking at someone else. The girl with lifeless eyes and heavy make-up that couldn’t hide her eyebags was supposed to be you, yet it felt like a perfectly modelated version of yourself, made to impress the high class families attending the wedding. 

Narcissa’s gentle hands were bradding your hair, finishing your look before the wedding. Usually her presence was able to calm you down. Ever since she married your older brother, Lucius, her presence was regular in family gatherings and you’ve always felt some kind of kinship with her, seeking shelter on her whenever the phony and pompous encounters became too overwhelming.

You could attribute your shifted feelings towards her to the fact that she was unknowingly preparing you for eternal misery, or maybe because she was replacing the ones who you would’ve chosen as bridesmaids - there was no place for muggleborns in an event celebrating the union of two pureblood heirs -. Or even because it was her little cousin the one you were to wed. 

“You look beautiful” said Narcissa once she was done with your hair. 

You nodded and gave her a small thank you. However, you disagreed completely, the girl she was looking at was not you, it was your parent’s perfect daughter. 

“You do look lovely, father and mother are going to be delighted” your brother’s voice came from the door, where he was leaning on. “I brought you some company” he gestured behind him. 

Pandora and Dorcas stormed into the room, the former embracing you into a tight hug when they spotted you. Lucius and Narcissa left the room. 

“How are you holding up?” Pandora asked as soon as the door closed behind Lucius and Narcissa. Her arms were still holding you tightly, Dorcas standing behind her. 

You shrugged at her, not being able to talk due the knot in your throat and the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. You kept your eyes glued to the mirror. 

Pandora stepped out of the hug and stood next to Dorcas, who had yet to speak. 

“Evan and Barty are with Regulus, I swear I never thought I would see him in a tux” said Dorcas, trying to make conversation. The thought of Regulus being in the same situation as you didn’t make you feel better, the knot in your throat was getting tighther by the second. You promised to yourself you wouldn’t cry anymore, to be honest you thought you had run out of tears days ago. 

“Sirius is here too” Pandora was trying to distract you from the wedding. If she was being honest with herself there was nothing they could do to make you feel better. But maybe knowing that your best friend was out there could help a little. 

That made you finally look away from the mirror, a small wave of hope cursing through you. If Sirius was here it meant that James could be too. In the eyes of your family his family’s name was not good enough for yours, but maybe it was enough for him to be a guest. 

Maybe it was selfish to wish for him to be there when you knew how much it would hurt him, but you needed to talk to him, he was the only one who could actually comfort you right now, the only presence that would make everything feel normal again. You yearned to feel his touch against your skin and his lips against yours, even if it was for one last time, as a farewell. 

“Is he… Is James here?” you spoke for the first time. 

The answer was clear in the pitiful look they gave you even before Pandora replied with a soft ‘no’. 

You don’t know what did it, if the look in the faces of your friends or the fact that you would never see James again, but tears started rolling down your face. In seconds you were being embraced by Pandora again, and Dorcas’ hand was wiping away your tears. 

“It’s okay, you are going to be okay” Pandora didn’t believe her own words, but there was little she could do to calm you down and you both knew it. 

There was a knock on the door and your dad’s voice came from the other side “Y/N, it’s time” 

Pandora gave you a squeeze before letting you go from the hug. They both left the room, not without giving you a forced smile. 

“Oh, merlin” you said to yourself as soon as you were left alone, going back to the mirror, you wiped the few tears that were left on your face, and tried to fix the smudged make-up around your eyes with your fingers. You didn’t want to give your parents the satisfaction of seeing how much this affected you. 

Once you looked mildly presentable again you exited the room. Your father was waiting for you and he offered you his arm to lead you towards the venue. 

You could see the whole venue from the end of the aisle. The green and black motives contrasted beatifully with the white flowers decorating the aisle and the top of the altar. The guests were placed in black chairs at both ends of the aisle. 

You weren’t brave enough to lift your glaze from the ground, knowning that you wouldn’t see the love of your life waiting for you as you had dreamt since you were a kid. The heavy veil of your dress made your steps slow and lethargic. 

It was not until you were halfway down the aisle that you gathered enough courage to finally look at the man in front of you. Instead of the boy with unruly curly brown hair and eyes filled with love, there standing was Regulus, his black hair slicked back and eyes drowned by the same defeated look you wore. 

Once you reached his side everything went in a blur, all you remember is him taking your hands into his and the officiant talking. 

“If anyone has any objection, speak now or forever hold your peace” 

You were really going insane because you swore you saw James standing at the end of the aisle, wearing a tuxedo and with his hand up in the air. 

“I oppose!” His voice was loud and clear, your eyes widened. 

All the guests' eyes went to his figure and several surprised gasps were heard. Maybe you were not hallucinating. 

───✥───

If Fleamont Potter ever found out how James was using his inherited cloak of invisivility he’d be horrified, or maybe oddly proud of his son. 

Not even James thought he would ever sneak into a highly patrolled wedding on a common Tuesday, but honestly if someone had told him a year ago he’d be doing this he wouldn’t be surprised. 

Sneaking in a wedding filled with pureblood families and slytherin students was the perfect setup for a Marauders prank. However, what would have surprised him would’ve been the reason for interrupting a white veil occasion. Dating a Malfoy was something he hadn’t expected to ever do, but you had gotten past all his defenses with your kind and bright personality that proved to be so different from your family’s pretentious ways. 

Therefore, he was now standing on the aisle you had walked minutes ago. He had a perfect view of you and Regulus from his stance, your white dress was gorgeous, and your hair was neatly done. If it weren’t for your puffy and bloodshot eyes, and the obvious defeated look in your face, a look that had no place in a wedding, he could almost believe this was a normal marriage ceremony. 

When you had received the letter from your parents you had been inconsolable, and rightfully so. James had tried everything to stop the wedding, he even went as far as asking your parents for their blessing and to be the one you'd wed instead of the Black heir. Turned out to be useless as his family had been marked as blood traitors for eternity. 

But James isn't known for giving up easily, and the Marauders were not going to let an opportunity to cause havoc pass by. 

With the promise of being on his best behavior, Sirius had convinced his parents to attend the wedding as a guest, acting as a mole for his friends' plans. Remus and Lily were outside the venue with their ride home -a couple of broomsticks they borrowed from Hogwarts' supply closet. 

And the last part of the plan, and its success rested on James' shoulders. 

The preacher spoke 'Speak now or forever hold your peace' James smirked, that was his cue. It was on. 

James took off his invisibility cloak and without a single trace of shame or shyness in his voice James stated loudly "I oppose!"

James would've loved to stop for a moment to memorize the looks of complete horror in the faces of the guests, but he had to be fast and make total use of the element of surprise. 

Without hesitation James sprinted towards the altar. He could see the way your brother had stood up and pointed his wand at him, his spell being intercepted by Sirius' expelliarmus spell. 

As soon as James made it to the altar chaos erupted from everyone in the venue, he could make out the shouts of your parents and some spells that were being intercepted by yours and James' friends. 

At the sight of James Regulus let your hands go, he raised his arms in defeat and left the altar without much hassle. 

"Gentleman" James greeted Regulus' groomsmen, Barty and Evan who were just as stunned as everyone, all they could do was nod in acknowledgement to James, not even trying to interfere. 

"Hi, love" he was finally looking at you, your eyes were wide with surprise and tears were gathered in your waterline. James took your hands in one of his and the other was raised to stroke your cheek. 

“James what- how-” you were completely astonished, and unable to formulate a single phrase. You knew your boyfriend loved you, and the lengths he would go to prove it, but you would have never guessed he’d be willing to break into your wedding ceremony. He was always proving you wrong. 

“Hey Peter, mate, it’s your moment to shine” Following james’ words a rat came out of his pants’ pocket. 

And suddenly Peter was standing in front of you. He pushed the appalled officiant slightly to the side and took his place. 

Peter cleared his throat before speaking “Do you, James Fleamont Potter, take Y/N Malfoy as your wife?” 

“I do” 

“Do you, Y/N Malfoy, take James Fleamont Potter as your husband?” 

You could hardly mutter a low “I do” before Peter spoke again 

“I declare you husband and wife. You might kiss the bride” 

James didn’t hesitate for a moment. To add dramatism he spun you around and dipped you, holding your weight with his arm. And without waiting for another second he kissed you, sweet and slow, conveying all his love for you with that gesture. 

When you became breathless you broke the kiss and looked at James straight into his beautiful eyes, which only show deep adoration. “I love you” you mouthed to him, which made his eyes sparkle with joy and a wide grin to break into face. 

He took you in his arms bridal style and walked down the aisle. You coudln’t even care about the chaos and spells that were aimed your way, all you could look at was James. 

And as he muttered “I love you too, Miss Potter” you knew he’d do anything to prove his love for you. 

Author's note: This one is of my faves of the collection ngl, James is my soft spot Thank you for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are welcomed and very appreciated. I'd love to hear what you thought about it so don't be shy!! To be part of the taglist Dm me or send me an ask <3 Taglist @feral-posts @izuoyarmin @aremuslupinsim @yourfavgay @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo 

[basicrese]

"He blinks, shaking his head, “I know I just woke up, and I’m still sleepy… but… I still kind of remember biology.”" 

see he says that but i know he was fully considering it for a hot second 

overall, what did i say about this man just being a hopeless romantic!!!!!! like he was playing house the entire chapter HGJFHGKJFGS and the realization towards the end like FINALLY glad you've caught up with the rest of us sweetheart bc it's been a journey 

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter fourteen ⭐︎ Somewhere in these eyes, I'm on your side.

Warnings: fluff, lots and lots fluff, just a teeny tiny bit of angst, just a bunch of tooth rooting sweetness

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: On a rainy Thursday, something shifts between you and Steve, something you can not see yet, while Steve gets lost in a glimpse of the future he could feel on this day.

Word count: 9k+

Author's note: @hellfire--cult thank you for helping me as always, roe. especially with the last bit, you're the bestest ♡ Steve's shower scene was fully written by her so give her some loveeee

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter

♡

The rain paddles against your windows softly, the sun is hidden behind the heavy dark clouds, and the light wind rustles the trees outside. You didn’t close the blinds last night, but it doesn’t matter anyways, it’s dark and gloomy outside. 

The soft covers touch your bare skin, the smell of cologne is heavy in the air, along with the smell of sex that still lingers after the previous night. 

The weight of his arm keeps you in place, keeps you close, he is making your heart flutter in this early morning hour already. 

He is facing you, just as you are facing him. His palm rests on your lower back, his legs tangled with yours underneath the sheets. He pulls you closer when you try to move, tightening his hold on you, but he is still so fast asleep. His lashes look so much longer when his eyes are closed, his features are completely relaxed, he is breathing softly, his heart beats against your palm as you keep your hand close to it. 

You eye the moles on his skin and the scars on his body. 

Your hands always itch to touch him, to graze his skin with the tips of your fingers, and you can do so when he’s fast asleep and unaware of your loving touches. 

You raise your hand up to his face, pushing away the curl that hangs loosely over his forehead. Your touch is light as a feather as you trace the bridge of his nose, and his cheek, before you return your hand back to his chest, freezing when a sigh falls from his lips and he stirs in his sleep, pulling you tighter against him in the process before he sinks deeper into the pillows, eyes still shut and heart still beating softly. 

You breathe out and relax when he continues sleeping deeply. 

You don’t want to get caught admiring him, and touching him like this, when only a few days ago, you feared that you would lose him after Eddie confronted you both. 

You cried yourself to sleep that night. 

His words cut deep, and the fear of losing him added to the hurt. You weren’t ready to lose this, you weren’t ready to lose him, and you thought that you were so very close to it until he showed up the next morning, and asked if things would stay the same between you and him now that someone found out.

The weight that stayed on your shoulders nearly crushed you, but he took it off you, and without realizing that he did, he took some of your worries too, just not the pain, and the mark he left on your heart with a few simple words. But it didn’t matter, because kissing him and feeling his touch again, was all that mattered, to know that it wasn’t over just yet… that mattered. 

You can hide the sadness and the pain when he holds you like this, you can even forget about it… momentarily. 

You forgot about it last night, when he kissed your neck and he marked your skin, when he unraveled you with his tongue and the touch of his hands, when he split you open and kissed you like you were his, when he looked into your eyes and he held your wrist as the tips of his fingers touched your palm, like he wanted to entwine them with yours and feel you closer and closer as you were chest to chest and his lips moved with yours like none have ever did before. 

Shivers run down your spine, and butterflies dance in your stomach when the sound of his voice calling out your name echoes in your mind. 

You might not be the one for him. And you know that there might be others, but you don’t even want to let your mind go there, just the mere thought of it, fills you with nausea. He keeps coming back to you, that’s what matters the most to you. You know that you can give him so much more than anyone else ever could. If only he let you. If only there was a chance. 

You nearly jump from the bed when the ringing of the doorbell pulls you out of your thoughts, and it echoes through the quiet house. 

Your eyes widen, and your heart starts pounding as panic settles deep in your chest. You stare at Steve, who is peacefully asleep, still. 

You flinch at the second ringing. 

“Fuck,” you whisper when you remember the burgundy car in your driveway. There is no reason for Steve to be at your place so early in the morning. There is no believable explanation either, what will you say to whoever it is on the other side of the door?

If this is one of your friends, you are screwed, so screwed. 

You know, as a matter of fact, that it isn’t Eddie – he wouldn’t show up this early unless it was an emergency, and even then, he’d be in your room by now. 

“Steve,” you whisper, trying to shake him awake, but he only grumbles in his sleep and hides his face further into the pillows. 

You sigh. 

You push his arm off and escape his embrace. You throw the covers off, and jump up from your bed, standing in only your underwear for a moment as you search for your clothes, you reach for his shirt instead and throw it on, before you rush out of the room, trying to fix your messy hair as you run down the stairs. 

You don’t have much time to come up with lies and excuses as to why Steve’s car is in your driveway, whoever it is on the other side of the door, is getting a little impatient. 

“I’m coming,” you grumble and unlock the front door before you rip it open, holding your breath. 

“Finally!” 

You sigh out in relief, rolling your eyes at your own panic. You step aside and open the door a little wider. 

“What took you so long?” Your sister murmurs as she steps inside and brushes past you. She is carrying a bag in one hand and the bright pink baby carrier your baby niece is currently sleeping in. 

All your annoyance leaves your body right this second, your eyes soften and a smile appears on your face. 

“Hello to you too, Twinkie.” 

She rolls her eyes at your nickname but pulls you in for a side hug after dropping the bag on the ground. 

“Give me her,” you smile as you take the carrier from her arm, and carry it into the living room, smiling as you eye the little features of the baby girl. You put the carrier down on the couch. “Hi Francine,” you whisper, gently tapping her tiny nose. “She’s so big already!” 

Your sister laughs as she follows you into the living room after kicking off her shoes, “you’ve seen her last week, I don’t think she grew much.” 

“She kind of did,” you whisper, taking Francine’s tiny hand. “They grow so fast.”

Your sister walks over to the window, peeking outside, she clears her throat, “do I wanna know whose car that is?” 

You glance over your shoulder and swallow nervously. 

You’re glad that her memory is awful. 

Everyone knows who is driving the burgundy BMW, and your sister still lived in Hawkins when he got it. She should know who it belongs to.

Her lips curl into a smirk, and she wiggles her brows, “casual hook up, or… is it something serious?” 

You know that she has been waiting for this day. 

It is something serious, to you. 

It is something serious when he holds you closely and kisses you softly, when his eyes soften and his lips curl into a smile at the sight of you. 

It is something serious when your heart flutters every time his knuckles brush against yours. 

It is something serious when you fall asleep in his arms and wake up in the very same spot. 

It is something serious when you keep falling and falling with no end in sight. 

Will you ever stop falling in love with him? 

Will there ever be a moment where your feelings and your love will stop at one level, or will you continue falling harder every passing moment? 

Your sister raises her eyebrows, lips curling into an even bigger smile, when she notices the flustered look on your face, the dreamy look in your eyes. 

“Something serious, huh?” 

You blink. 

Staring at her, with your cheeks now feeling warm… way too warm, you shake your head quickly. 

“N-No.” 

You curse inwardly, for giving yourself away so easily with your stuttering and your blushing. That’s not how you ever reacted before when she mentioned any of your hookups. 

She grins at you, wiggling her eyebrows, “mhm sure, Daisy.” 

You roll your eyes at her teasing glances, but the nickname makes you smile. 

Out of all the flowers, your mom loved Daisies the most, she would put the dainty flowers in your braids, and behind your ear whenever you were out in the garden. You would pick them for her and make little bouquets to surprise her with. 

She always called you her little Daisy. 

Your sister picked up on that nickname, though she used it to mock you at first when she went through a weird phase of hating flowers – which is really ironic considering the flower shop she ended up working at when she moved to the city.

She could’ve given you another nickname, something silly – something like the name you gave to her, but she spared you, luckily. 

“Shut up, Twinkie,” you mumble, as you look back at your niece, who is beginning to stir in her sleep, her long lashes fluttering as small noises escape her mouth. “As happy as I am to see this little bean, why are you here at uh,” you pause, turning your head to look at the clock on the wall, “ten in the morning?” You ask. 

She makes her way over to you, a sweet smile appearing on her face, as she gives you her best puppy eyes. 

“I was hoping that you could look after Francine?” She asks, still smiling. “Lisa is getting married soon, and she asked me to go wedding dress shopping with her, I can’t take her, we’ll probably be out all day, and I can’t wait for Ethan to get home, his shift won’t end before–”

“It’s fine, I’ll look after her,” you interrupt her, despite the slight nervousness that rises up in you. 

You have no experience with babies at all, you have given her the bottle, you even changed her diaper, but your sister was around, and you didn’t spend the whole day alone with her. 

She sighs in relief, she puts her hand on your shoulder, “oh thank you!”

“Don’t mention it, I’d never say no to hanging out with my favorite girl.” 

“You need to spend more time with her anyways, you coming once a week isn’t enough!” 

You frown at your sister, “you’re the one who moved away!” 

She waves her hand at you, walking around the couch, she walks over to the carrier, “she always does that little scrunch with her nose before she wakes up.” 

You smile, watching as she leans in to place a gentle kiss to her daughter’s cheek. 

“Okay,” she whispers, pulling back to look at you, “I put everything into the bag, diapers, bottles, formula, a change of clothes in case her diapers leak, and uh… pacifiers. And uh, you know if she cries just lie down with her and put her on your chest, she loves cuddles.” 

You nod, “yeah, I know, I haven’t forgotten. I got this.”

“Yeah you do, Daisy. And if you need help, just call Eddie–”

“Are you kidding?” You laugh, shaking your head as amusement flashes in your eyes. 

Eddie and Max were there, the last time your sister showed up with her husband and little Francine. 

While the redhead was rather excited to hold the little girl, Eddie felt too afraid to even touch her, and he nearly gagged when Max chased him with a dirty diaper. 

“He looked at her like he was scared of her!” 

Your sister laughs, “yeah, right. Okay, so not Eddie then, I’m sure Max would love to help though, or maybe someone else – but I’ll get going now, I promise, I’ll make it up to you, you got this, Daisy.” She smiles, ruffling your hair, she leans down to look at her daughter one more time, “bye bug, I’ll see you soon,” she whispers and squeezes her tiny foot before she steps away. “Okay, I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, see you later, Twinkie.” 

The moment the front door is slammed shut, you let out a long sigh, and throw your head back against the pillows on your couch. You bring your hand up to your face and pinch the bridge of your nose. 

You are still tired, and it seems as though Steve is still sleeping soundly. 

You want nothing more than to return back to bed and sink into your pillows again. 

You definitely won’t get any sleep now, but you still get up and slowly lift the baby carrier, hoping that the movement won’t wake her up. You try to be careful as you make your way out of the living room and up the stairs. 

When you walk into your room, you find Steve now laying on his stomach, his face buried in your pillow. The sheets are low on his body, his whole back is exposed. 

The tiny cooing sounds from inside the carrier, cause your lips to curl into a big smile. You place it down on your carpet, and kneel down, giggling when you’re met by her big eyes. She starts wiggling around when she sees you. 

“Hi little angel,” you whisper, and lean closer to unfasten the safety belts, before you lift her up from the carrier, placing your right hand behind her head, you pull her into your chest, her hand instantly reaches for your hair, clasping her tiny fingers around it, she makes you laugh when she starts pulling it, making happy noises while she does so. 

You sit down on your bed, and lift your legs up, scooting back until you’re resting against the pillows behind you. You pull the covers over your lower body. 

A small squeal leaves her mouth.

“Shh, someone’s sleeping,” you whisper, tapping her little nose, glancing at Steve who is starting to stir in his sleep. 

You place her on your lap, and giggle at the cuteness as she stretches her little legs out. “That’s a cute onesie,” you whisper, rubbing her belly, “I bet you picked that yourself didn’t you? Pink is a pretty color on you, princess.” 

She babbles and wiggles around as she stares at you with her big eyes. 

Your voice, and the small coos pull Steve out of his deep sleep, his mind is still in a haze, his eyes still closed. 

“Da da da.” 

Your giggle follows the tiny voice. 

Steve scrunches his brows together, gripping the pillow underneath him, he slowly opens his eyes and looks at your side of the bed, his lips part and his eyes widen completely, something in his chest stirs strongly as he stares at the sight in front of him. 

He is still sleeping. 

He is still dreaming. 

A smile is resting on your face, eyes lightened up as you entertain the little baby girl on your lap, a pink bow around her head, big eyes resembling your own as she stares at you with a smile on her face, her hair color is the same as yours. 

Steve swallows the lump that grew in his throat, warmth settles in his chest, surrounding his heart and filling it with something, with adoration. 

His eyes soften when you lean down to kiss her forehead, squishing her tiny cheeks. 

“You’re the prettiest girl, Francis,” you whisper, using her nickname. 

His lips curl into a smile, despite the confusion that still lingers in his features. 

This is surely one of his dreams, he is convinced of it, why else would he wake up beside you, and a baby who looks like you?

But when you turn to face him, and the little girl follows your movement, looking at him with wide eyes, he isn’t so sure anymore. 

He blinks, watching as you reach for Francis’s little arm, waving her tiny hand at him, “say hi Steve.” 

The little girl babbles even louder, making a grabby hand at him. 

Steve smiles at her, raising his hand up, he waves at her.

You can’t help but laugh at the lost and confused look on his face, his brows are pulled together, his lips parted as he looks between you and your niece. 

He turns around on his back, and pushes himself so he’s leaning against your headboard, adjusting the cover, he pulls it up higher. He looks around the room, before his eyes return to the two of you, he runs his fingers through his messy hair, eyes flickering back and forth.

Your lips tug into a smirk, you can tell that he doesn’t understand a thing right now. 

You look at him, as you pull your niece closer, holding her up, you press her against your chest, “can you believe that we made a baby overnight?” 

You almost burst into laughter when his brown eyes widened with pure shock, and he choked a little. 

He blinks, shaking his head, “I know I just woke up, and I’m still sleepy… but… I still kind of remember biology.” 

Francine makes another grabby hand at him, “ma ma.”

“I dunno, but I’m pretty sure she just called you mama.”

Steve’s cheeks heat up, and he turns away from you, looking around your room again before his eyes catch the picture on your nightstand, the one of you and your sister. Oh. 

“Ah… Your niece,” Steve murmurs as he looks back at the two of you. 

“Good morning, Harrington,” you giggle. Francine copies your giggle, and Steve can’t help but smile. “Oh you like that name, huh? It’s funny isn’t it? Harrington.” Her little eyes crinkle, and she starts babbling with a laugh. Steve keeps her eyes on her, smiling at the little girl.

“That’s Francine,” you smile, introducing your niece to him. 

Steve lifts his hand up, waving his fingers at her, “hi Francine, I’m Steve.” 

She squirms in your arms, making happy noises as she blinks at him. Steve chuckles, he scoots closer to you, and he lifts his hand, and touches her tiny one. Francine wraps her hand around his finger, gripping it tightly, making his smile even bigger. 

“Is your sister here?” He asks, without looking away from the little girl. 

You shake your head, “no, she asked me to babysit today. So uh… I’ll be busy with my girl here today.” 

The urge to stay here with you, and this cute little mini you, feels so strong. 

“Want me to help?” Steve asks. 

You’re a little stunned by his question, and can only stare in surprise. 

“Huh?” 

“I mean, I don’t mind staying to help,” Steve shrugs, glancing at you for a second before he gives his attention back to Francine, who stares at him in awe.

The thought of spending a whole day with Steve, taking care of a baby with him, sounds like heaven. 

The only reason why he’s ever even around you without the group is because of sex, and that only. You don’t meet up just to watch movies, cook together or anything else, you only meet up for one thing, that’s all. 

The fact that he is willing to just spend time with you, without expecting anything to happen baffles you a little. 

“I-I… Do you really want to stay?” 

He nods. 

“Not much of a choice, to be honest,” he murmurs with a fond smile on his face as he gestures to your niece who is still holding his finger tightly. 

“O-Okay,” you whisper, shakily as nervousness and excitement rise up in you. 

“She’s so adorable,” Steve whispers, chuckling when Francine babbles at him, “she looks like you.” 

You smile before you realize what he just said, and heat rushes to your cheeks. 

She’s so adorable, she looks like you.

“I-I uh,” you stutter, trying to keep your cool, “so you’re gonna stay then?”

“Yeah, I’d love to hang out with Blondie and mini Blondie over here,” he chuckles as he taps her nose. 

Your heart could burst right then and there, your cheeks feeling incredibly hot the longer you sit here and stare at him. 

“Cool,” you say with a small voice as you suddenly feel the need to escape for a moment, “would you mind looking after her for a moment then? I wanna take a quick shower or else I’ll walk around looking like a bum all day.” 

Steve turns to look at you, he takes in the sight of your messy hair, and the shirt on your body, only now noticing that it’s his. His insides tingle, and his lips curl into a smile. 

You look like a cute bum. He almost blurts out, but bites his tongue. 

“Sure, go ahead, me and Francine are just gonna hang out, right?” 

She squeals in response, making jumpy movements. 

You both laugh at her. 

You lay her down beside him, and tickle her belly, giggling when she starts kicking her feet, “alright, I’ll be right back, angel.” 

Steve doesn’t even notice how big his smile is, how soft his eyes are as he stares at you, how warm the feeling in his chest is. 

“She might roll over on her belly, and if she gets a little fuzzy just pick her up, she loves snuggles. I’m gonna be quick.” 

Steve scoots closer to Francine, leaning his elbow on the pillow, he rests his head against his palm, and glances at you, “it’s fine, take your time, I’m just gonna chat with her.” 

Francine is still kicking her feet and waving around with her little arms.

“Oh yeah, she’s very talkative,” you giggle, and get up from the bed, you walk over to your dresser and pick out some clothes to change into. As much as you would love to wear his shirt all day, he needs it himself – although, you wouldn’t mind him walking around shirtless. 

Once you get everything you need, you turn back to take a look at them, and you nearly melt into a puddle when you see the way she is still clutching his finger, kicking her legs and babbling something to him, while he watches her with a smile on his face. 

“O-Okay, I’ll be right back.” 

You leave the room in a haste, but Steve doesn’t even notice, too busy staring at little Francine. He adores the resemblance of you, and the color of her eyes that matches yours, she truly looks like you. 

Steve can’t remember the last time he saw or even held a baby, he’s not sure if he ever even held one. He was ten when one of his cousins was born, but he didn’t care to hold him back then. 

Francine keeps making a grabby hand at him, while she tugs at his finger, starting to get fuzzy after a few minutes pass without your presence in the room. 

He sits up straighter and pulls the blanket up higher, he reaches for one of your throw pillows and places it on his lap. 

“Alright Francine,” Steve whispers, he takes a deep breath and furrows his brows in concentration as he carefully lifts her up, supporting her head with his palm, he pulls her closer and lays her down on the soft pillow. 

She coos and starts blowing bubbles, making Steve laugh. 

“Oh, you’re so adorable,” he smiles, pulling her a little closer, “did you pick that bow today?” He asks, eying the headband around her little head. 

She makes a few grunting noises, though looking at him with a happy look on her face. 

“Your auntie loves those bows too, she puts some in her ponytails sometimes,” Steve says, talking to her as though he will get more than just a few babbles from her. “I bet you’re gonna steal them from her someday–”

Prrrrrrrrrrrrrrt

Steve’s face pales at the sound, his eyes widen. 

The noise that came from her diapers sounded more than just air. 

“Oh fuck,” he mumbles before his eyes widen further at the curse word that just left his lips, “I shouldn’t have said that, shit– I mean, I’m sorry, please forget what I just said,” he rambles, as though she understood a single thing that he said. 

Francine babbles, kicking her feet into his stomach with a happy squeal. 

“Um,” he panics, looking around the room, “Blondie!?”

“What Steve!?” You call from the bathroom, “it’s been five minutes!” 

“I uh–” He mumbles, scratching the back of his neck as he furrows his brows, “code red…?” 

You nearly laugh at his choice of words, you only ever used code red in the upside down, for the real emergencies. 

You can already guess what happened, and it only makes your amusement grow bigger. You quickly put your clothes on, and brush your hair before you make your way out of the bathroom and back to them. 

“Okay, I’m here,” you announce, placing his shirt that you stole earlier on your bed, you walk over to his side, and take a seat beside him, “that was the quickest shower of my life.” 

He gets a whiff of your vanilla body wash, of the mint from your toothpaste, and the smell of perfume that lingers in your hair, making his chest flutter. 

“She uh– I think she needs a diaper change.” 

“Oh,” you laugh, “that’s what you’re panicking about?” 

Steve glares at you.

“You wanted to help,” you shrug as you get up again, making your way out of the room again to get the bag with Francine’s stuff. “You gotta learn how to change diapers, Harrington!” 

Steve huffs nervously, “no big deal right?” He whispers to Francine. 

“Da da da.” 

“Yeah,” Steve laughs, “right.”

You come back into the room, and put the bag on the ground, picking out new diapers, wet wipes, baby powder and the spare onesie, along with the thin baby towel that you spread out on your mattress. 

“Alright, Lego head,” you raise your eyebrows at him, “do you wanna practice for your future nuggets or are you scared of baby poop?” 

He snorts, shaking his head at you.

“No, I’m not scared of baby poop.” 

You walk over to them both and lean down before him, you pick Francine up, and scrunch your face up, “yeah, you really need a diaper change, angel.”

Steve watches as you carry her over to the other side, placing her down on the towel you spread out. You undo the buttons of her onesie, smiling at the little girl. 

“Well, come on,” you giggle at him, “it’s an experience you gotta make, Steve.” 

Steve takes a deep breath, he throws the pillow off his lap and removes the cover. He gets up from the bed, standing there in his boxers for a moment, until his eyes find the sweatpants he discarded last night, he quickly throws them on, along with the shirt you wore earlier. 

“Alright,” he murmurs, running his fingers through his hair, he walks up beside you, “just tell me what to do.” 

You chuckle at his nervousness, you place your hand on his shoulder, “don’t worry, if Max was able to do it, you can do it too.” 

A breathy laugh falls from his lips. 

You guide him, giving him a little step by step of what to do. 

You watch the way his brows knit together, and the way he is nodding to himself as he follows your words. 

He doesn’t even look disgusted when the smell hits him, he only chuckles at the way Francine continues babbling happily. 

“She’s a happy baby, isn’t she?” 

You nod, smiling down at your niece, “yes she is.”

You hand him the new diapers and the baby powder, before you put the used wipes into the dirty diaper, roll it up carefully and throw it into the trash in your bathroom before you return to your room. 

“How old is she?” 

“She’s gonna be three months old tomorrow,” you say, smiling as you step up beside him again. 

Steve raises his eyebrows at Francine, “oh, you’re gonna be a big girl tomorrow?” He jokes as he tickles her belly, making her laugh. 

The smile on your face widens, the feeling in your chest growing stronger and brighter. 

Her small giggles, and the fond smile that rests in his tired features spark something deep inside of you, a warming and comforting feeling appears as you watch him take care of her with careful and slow movements. 

“Is that okay?” He asks you, gesturing to the diapers he put on her, “or is it too tight?”

You lean closer to him and check the pressure, “no, that’s perfect, Steve.”

“It is?” He asks, surprised. 

You nod, and start to put her onesie back on, “yeah, I don’t even know what you panicked about, you’ve done a better job than me, I didn’t know what I was doing the first time,” you laugh. “You did good, Lego head.” 

A dimpled grin appears on his face, despite the redness in his cheeks. 

“I-I think caring for a bunch of kids that turned into teens turned me into a natural, even babies. I mean, Dustin counts as a baby, doesn’t he?” He jokes, watching the way your eyes crinkle and your lips spread before you burst into giggles. 

Francine watches you with big eyes before she copies your giggles like before. 

Steve’s eyes light up, as he watches you both. 

The warmth in his chest spreads, as happiness rises up in him. 

After adjusting her clothes and the bow on her head, you pick her up into your arms, leaning down to kiss her cheek. 

You don’t even notice just how soft the look in his eyes, how the ghost of a smile now lingers on his lips, as he stares at the both of you in awe, watching the way Francine buries her face in the crook of your neck, and you keep a gentle hand on the back of her head. 

“Do you want some breakfast? I can make you something after I give this princess her bottle, I think she’s getting tired again.”

Steve’s heart thumps strongly in his chest, he can’t deny the emotions of adoration in him as he looks at you with the baby on your arm. 

“I can make you a breakfast sandwich or anything else you want.” 

Steve blinks. 

“Uh, you don’t have to make anything for me, Blondie. I can make you something though.”

You shake your head, “no, you’re my guest, I’ll make you breakfast, and you can feed her if you want.” 

“Okay,” he says with a sigh, nodding his head, “I’ll make you lunch or dinner though.”

“Oh, are you gonna woo me with your cooking skills now?” You giggle. 

He looks down with a smile, “I promised I would, didn’t I?” 

“Yeah, you did.” 

Francine clasps her fingers around your hair again, pulling it stronger than before, making you wince a little. 

“Okay, okay, someone’s getting a little grumpy now. I’m gonna go make her the bottle.” 

“I’ll be right there with you, I’m just gonna go brush my teeth real quick,” Steve gestures to your bathroom, “do you need me to carry the bag down?”

“No, it’s fine, it’s not heavy,” you say as you step towards him, “but can you help me put it on my shoulder?”

“Yeah, of course.”

He grabs the bag and steps towards you, putting the strap around your shoulder. His eyes soften yet again, when he sees you looking down at your niece, smiling as she blinks at you with her big eyes. 

Steve doesn’t even notice that his hand still lingers on your shoulder, or that he’s rubbing your back, he is too in awe of the two of you, and that feeling stays with him, even when you leave the room and go downstairs, even when he goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, he stares at his reflection in the mirror, and he can’t even unsee the happiness and the relaxation in his features, but he decides to pay no mind to it. 

When he joins you downstairs, he finds you in the kitchen, finishing up on Francine’s bottle, you’re shaking it, while whispering something to her as you’re still holding her in your arm, still. 

Steve doesn’t know what it is, but the sight before him, makes him freeze in his spot. 

As you stand there in your kitchen, with a smile on your lips, and a look of adoration in your eyes, you’re cooing at your niece, giggling every time she babbles something at you, he realizes something. 

You are comfortable, right now. 

You’re in your home, away from the eyes of strangers, hidden from the world that you have only shown one side of yourself to, your walls are down, you are just yourself, and there is no shame behind your eyes, because all your attention goes to someone you adore and love, and don’t feel the need to hide from. 

Your eyes shine brightly, your features are relaxed in a way they have never been before, and your smile is so genuine, so real. 

You’re talking to her with a small and gentle voice, you hold her tightly against your chest – and you… god you look so beautiful like this. 

You look so beautiful with a baby in your arms. 

Warmth spreads across his whole body, he likes the sight in front of him, he likes it so much that it should scare him, but it doesn’t. 

“There he is, Francis,” you smile, glancing at Steve, you don’t even notice how frozen in place he is, how heaven struck he looks, “are you ready to give her the bottle?” 

Steve blinks, snapping out of his mind, he nods at you with a blush on his cheeks. 

You brush past him, and gesture for him to follow you into the living room, after you grab the cloth from the counter. 

You place the bottle on the coffee table, and wait for him to take a seat on the couch. 

“Alright, you gotta tell me what to do,” Steve says nervously, as he sits down, “I’ve never done this before.” 

“Don’t be nervous, you got this,” you assure him. 

You step between his legs, and lean down to place Francine into his arms. 

Without needing to be told, he cradles the back of her head, as he gently pulls her into his arms, a smile spreading on his lips when her big eyes look into his. 

“Okay,” you whisper and put the cloth under her chin, adjusting it over her clothes in case a little accident might happen. 

“Am I holding her correctly?” Steve asks, looking up at you. 

The side of her face is nuzzled into his chest, the back of her head resting in the crook of his arm. You didn’t even need to guide him, he truly is a natural. 

“Yeah,” you smile, “you’re doing great.”

You hand him the bottle, and sit down beside him. 

“Did you test the temperature?” Steve asks, and you almost want to laugh at his question. 

“Yeah Steve, I did.” 

He nods at you. 

With a chuckle, you pull your feet up onto the sofa and sit on your knees, turning your body towards them. 

“Okay, now gently place the teat into her mouth and slowly tilt the bottle, she will do the rest.” 

He furrows his brows, poking his tongue through his lips, he focuses on your niece as he follows your words. 

You watch him closely, how soft and concentrated his eyes are, how careful his movements are, how small she looks in his arms, how sweet the sight of them is. 

Francine raises her little arm, and places her tiny hand on the bottle as she starts sucking on the teat, small noises falling from her. 

“Oh my god,” Steve whispers, the biggest smile you have ever seen, now glowing in his features as he looks at her in awe, “she’s the cutest little bean.” 

“Yeah, she is,” you smile and tilt your head as you watch them, the fluttering feeling in your chest sparking.

Her eyelashes flutter, her big eyes still staring into his. 

“I’m gonna cry, Blondie,” Steve murmurs, adoring the little human in his arms. “She's so tiny and adorable.” 

You move closer and reach for the corner of the cloth, wiping away the bit of milk that rolls down her chin. 

“You’re gonna have one of those someday too.”

Steve smiles at your words, nodding as he whispers “hopefully.” 

But he doesn’t notice the way your own smile falls, the way your eyes sadden for a moment, the way you look down and blink away the feelings you don’t want him to see. And he doesn’t realize how quiet you get, he is too distracted by Francine and the thoughts in his head, the pictures of a future he longs for so badly. 

Only when the bottle is empty and he removes it, does he turn back to you, but still too blinded by his mind to see the look in your eyes. You take the bottle from his hand, and place it back on the coffee table. 

“You gotta hold her against your chest now,” you tell him and remove the cloth from her body, you place it on his chest instead, “and gently pat her back so she can burp.” 

You guide him again, helping him hold her correctly as he places her against his chest, he puts his hand on her back, and starts patting gently. 

“Is that good?”

“Yeah,” you whisper and scoot closer to him, you reach for her tiny hand, caressing it as you watch her with a smile on your face, “she’s tired.” 

“Yeah, pooping must’ve been really exhausting,” Steve jokes, making you giggle. 

“Yeah, totally–”

A loud burp falls from her mouth. 

“Oh that was a big one,” Steve chuckles as he stops patting her, “you did good, bug.”

“She didn’t even spit, she usually does a little, wow you really do have magical hands,” you chuckle, and remove the cloth from his shoulder. 

“Told you, I’m a natural,” he smiles proudly. 

You roll your eyes playfully. 

“Do you want me to take her now?” You ask. 

He shakes his head at you, “can I hold her for a while?” 

Confusion flashes in your eyes. You know how badly he needs his coffee in the mornings, it’s one of the first things he does after he wakes up, going into the kitchen to brew his beloved morning coffee. He didn’t even take a single sip yet, but he doesn’t seem to mind, he is too in awe of the baby on his chest. 

Realization replaces the look in your eyes – he is entering a baby fever trance, with your niece nonetheless. It makes your smile reappear, that’s how you feel too, every time you get to spend time with her. 

“Of course,” you whisper, as your gaze softens. 

Francine’s eyelashes flutter, her blinking getting slower and lesser. 

“She’s gonna pass out though, you should sit back a little so she can lay on you.” 

He nods at your words, placing one hand on her back and the other under her bum, he lays back slowly, his lips twitching into a small smile when he sees her already falling asleep. She scrunches up her nose as she nuzzles her face into his chest, making you both laugh when she suddenly throws her hand up, managing to catch onto a strand of his hair. 

She wiggles around for a moment, before her eyes start falling shut. 

“And she’s out,” Steve whispers, chuckling to himself. “I wish I could fall asleep this fast.” 

“Yeah, me too.”

Her cheek is squished against him, she’s breathing softly now, her hand falling from his hair and onto his shoulder, her little headband beginning to slip off. 

You reach out to take it off her head slowly, and lean in to place a soft kiss on her forehead, unaware of the fond smile on Steve’s lips, or the feelings that rush through him because of you. 

“I’m gonna go make some coffee and breakfast now,” you mumble as you pull away, and get up from the couch, grabbing the bottle and the cloth. 

Steve’s eyes follow you as you walk over to the TV stand, and grab the remote, handing it to him, “you can watch something if you want, it won’t disturb her, she’s a heavy sleeper.”

“I’m good, I’ll watch her for now,” he whispers. 

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” you say, and give him a smile before you leave the room. 

A genuine smile. 

You smiled at him before, countless of times actually, but he could never tell what was real and what wasn’t, what was genuine and what was forced or just sarcastic. But this, this was a real smile, and there was no second meaning behind it. You just smiled at him, naturally. It makes him feel… happy, and as he looks down at the little girl that has your features, he realizes something. 

The feeling in his chest was never for nothing, it was never false or misleading. 

It was just as real as the smile you blessed him with. 

Suddenly, everything before him doesn't seem as dull and colorless as it did all these past months and even years, something sparks before his eyes and he can see again, he can feel something besides the never ending gnawing in his chest and the restlessness in his bones, the fears that nestled deep into his soul. He finally sees something other than the darkened clouds and the red lights that keep flashing before his eyes. 

A light that keeps peeking through every once in a while is on the verge of breaking through, making the walls around him rattle as the foundation starts to crumble, one brick at a time starts falling into an abyss. 

A future lays before his eyes, calling out to him and waiting to be grasped, an echo, a whisper, a glimpse of what could be if things were only different. 

For the rest of the day, Steve feels as though he had fallen into a pleasant dream, a world where it’s only you and him, a little girl that made him realize just how badly he wants to have a family of his own – he already knew that he wanted it, but he pictured the wrong person by his side, a person he no longer even wanted. 

He was blinded by old feelings, and the wish to have something real again, when it never even was to begin with. 

The feelings that are sparking in him now, feel so different from anything that he had ever felt before, and he only opens his eyes to them more and more as the day passes, and he sees a side of you that he had never seen before. 

He sees with how much love and gentleness you treat your niece, he sees the way your eyes hold nothing but adoration for the girl that you would do anything for. 

He hears how soft your voice can get. 

He feels how soft your touch can be when you once again hand her to him. 

And his heart beats so strongly, so fastly in his chest when a giggle falls from your lips after Francine pouts when you take her away from him again, only to be forced to place her back into his arms when she almost starts crying. 

Steve adores her, and he adores you – a little more as every second of this day passes. 

The thing that pushes him nearer towards the finish line of realization, is this very moment in front of him. 

Your niece fell asleep on his chest yet again, you are sitting right next to him, with your head on his shoulder and your eyes glued on her, your finger tracing her little features. The urge to pull you closer and hold you feels so strong to the point that his fingers start itching. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t cook dinner for you,” he whispers. 

You look at him through your lashes, the corner of your lip twitching as your eyes flicker to his lips for a brief moment. 

The only light in the room now coming from the TV, the volume set on the lowest. The rain is still falling, even as the night nears. 

“It’s okay, Francis didn’t let you,” you giggle softly, not knowing that the sound makes his heart flutter. “Besides, the pizza was really good.” 

“Yeah, it was,” he whispers. 

He notices how tired you look, how the sleepiness is beginning to set into your features now too. 

“Look at her tiny nose,” you whisper as you look back at her, “and those little hands.”

Something in the way you hold her hand and whisper so adoringly about her, makes him long for you even more – but not in a way he had felt before, no, this is different, this is so very serious. 

Steve lifts his arm as a blush creeps up to his cheeks, he wraps his arm around you, and pulls you closer, “come here,” he whispers into your hair, “there’s space for two Blondies on my chest.”

He doesn’t know what kind of emotions he can trigger in you, with such simple words. 

He doesn’t know that you have been dying to feel this. 

You lay your head on his chest, and he can’t help but smile at the sigh that falls from your lips. You put your arm around Francine, and snuggle against him, and you stay like that, for a while at least, until Steve allows his feelings to take the lead. 

He adjusts the blanket over Francine before he pulls you even closer, and he buries his fingers in your hair, allowing himself to play with it like he only ever does when you’re fast asleep and unaware of his soft touches or the glances that fall upon your skin. 

He would feel joy if he knew about the emotions that linger inside of you. 

“You will be an amazing dad to your little nuggets someday, Steve,” you say in a whisper, it’s almost too quiet for him to hear, “and a good husband too.” 

The shakiness in your voice and the sadness goes by unnoticed by him, he is too stunned by your words. 

If he could see inside your head, he would know how much sadness there is, how the dark clouds always reside, how you don’t see a future for yourself because you know that he won’t be in it, and without him, what will you have? What will you be? A wilting rose, left behind to die. You are barely holding on now, but you are still here, because he is still keeping you alive. Your life is in his hands. 

Steve takes a deep breath, he opens his mouth to whisper to you, only to see you fast asleep now too, your cheek squished against his chest just like Francine’s is. 

He breathes out, lips curling into a smile as he stops playing with your hair. 

“You will be amazing too, Blondie,” he whispers. 

A girlfriend. A wife. A mother. 

Whatever you choose to be, whoever you will bless with your love, they are going to be so lucky to have you. 

And before he can even realize where his thoughts are taking him, a frown nestles into his features. The thought that he will become a memory to you, makes him feel uneasy. The thought that someone will step into your life, and take away what you both have, fills him with gray-ish sadness once again. The image of someone putting a ring on your finger and getting to be the one to lift the veil and kiss you on the altar openly, in front of everybody, and without needing to hide, spreads the darkness in him, yet again. 

He looks down at you, at the way you look so comfortable in his embrace, while your soft hand stays on the girl’s back, he admires you, and he feels no shame to do so, not even when he lifts his hand to brush your hair out of your face. 

But his time with you is cut short when the front door unlocks and opens, and footsteps echo in the hallway, a moment later. 

He turns his face away from you, when your sister steps into the living room, freezing in her steps when she sees him. 

Steve swallows the lump in his throat, giving her a tight lipped smile, he raises his hand to wave at her, “hi…”

She furrows her brows as she takes in the sight of you three, her lips pulling into a confused smile. She takes her denim jacket off and walks further into the room, her lips curling into a big smile when she takes a look at her girl. 

But then her eyes fall back on him, and suddenly, her lips part in surprise. 

“Hi…Oh– you, hang on,” she mumbles, tilting her head before her eyes widen, “Steve Harrington?”

Steve doesn’t know what to think of the look on her face, or the stunned tone in her voice. 

He met her before, at the hospital when she came to visit you, but he didn’t talk to her, and her reaction makes him wonder if you have mentioned him before. 

“Yeah… that’s uh… that’s me.”

The silence that follows is almost too loud, he can see the way she looks between you both, back and forth, as her brows stay furrowed. 

She points a finger between you both, “so uh… you’re her boyfriend?”

Steve hesitates, and he glances down at you, bitterness lays on his tongue when he utters the next words, “uh… no… no, I’m not.” Sadly, he thinks.

And when he registers the words that popped into his head out of nowhere, he suddenly wants nothing more than to escape this situation, fearing his own feelings again. 

“I-I should go now.” 

“Oh, you’re not staying another night?” She asks, a somewhat smug tone in her voice as she looks at you. 

He would love to, but it’s better to go now. It’s not safe to stay, not for his heart.

“No, I have to work tomorrow.”

“Ah,” she nods and walks over to the three of you, “I’ll take her now,” she whispers, and carefully picks her daughter up. The little girl stirs in her sleep, grunting quietly but not opening her eyes just yet. 

“She’s a heavy sleeper,” Steve chuckles as he watches the way Francine relaxes into her mother’s arms. 

“She really is,” your sister laughs, and walks over to the armchair, taking a seat before she looks back up at Steve, “kind of like Daisy when she’s relaxed,” she nudges her chin towards you. 

A smile appears on his face, and he looks down at you, his arm is still wrapped around you, and he already dreads the feeling of having to let you go. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, taking a long look at you, before he decides to get up. 

A sigh leaves his lips, and he slowly slips away from you, replacing his chest with a pillow for your head, his eyes soften when you scrunch your nose up just the way your niece did earlier. He adjusts the blanket over you, fighting the urge to leave a kiss on your forehead before he steps away. 

Your sister eyes him closely, watching how he treats you with so much care. 

When Steve steps away, and looks away from you, glancing at your sister, heat rushes to his cheeks when he sees the way she looks between you both, a smug look lingering in her eyes, a small but teasing smile on her face. 

He wants to run. 

“Okay uh,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck before he points his finger at the hallway, “I’m gonna go.” 

“Okay,” she nods, “thanks for helping with Francine.”

He waves his hand, a smile now reappearing on his face as he looks at the baby girl, already missing the feeling of holding her. 

“No need to thank me, I loved spending time with these two,” he chuckles, pointing between you and your niece. “But uh, I’m gonna head out.”

“Alright,” she smiles at him.

He takes one last look at you before he turns around and makes his way out of the living room, he puts his Nike’s on, and grabs the car keys he threw on the counter, last night. 

“Bye, Twinkie.”

“Bye…” She mumbles with furrowed brows, confused at the name he just called her by. 

The front door shuts quietly, yet loud enough to wake you up. With a flinch, you open your eyes, and look around the room, feeling a little disoriented. You look to your side, the empty spot beside you, making you frown. 

“Your boyfriend left,” your sister's voice sounds through the room. 

You turn to her, finding her in the armchair she always loved so much. A smug look is resting on her lips. 

“Shut up,” you mumble, glaring at her. 

She laughs at you, and leans back, getting comfortable in her seat. 

“Spill. Now.” 

-

The hot water rolls down Steve’s skin, the smell of shampoo surrounds him as he washes his hair. 

His eyes are closed, but a smile rests on his lips, as images of all the things that happened today replay in his mind. 

The fluttering in his chest hasn’t stopped at all, everything you did, everything you said, every single touch of yours has seemingly turned him into a hopeless teenager again – only, he isn’t one anymore, and the feelings inside of him, go much deeper than the ones of a seventeen year old boy. 

And no matter how much he tries to deny them, he just can’t, because it becomes less and less possible to pretend that they aren’t there.

Today, they shined through so brightly, when he saw how soft and gentle you could be, when he saw the sides of you that you never wanted to show. He saw something he never thought was even there. And it causes awful feelings to rise up in him, when he comes to the realization that all these years, you were only protecting yourself from the hurt in this world, and you did so by putting up a front and giving people the wrong pictures of yourself.

You were mean and rough to those you didn’t trust, and he was one of them, maybe he still is, but he saw you today. 

When you greeted him this morning, with your niece in your arms. 

When you kissed her little forehead, and held her in your sweet embrace. 

When you taught him to bottle feed her. 

When you admired her with him, and traced her little features with your finger and a loving smile on your face. 

When you told him how great of a husband he would be someday, and an amazing dad to his nuggets.

Wait… you said nuggets, plural. He never told you he wanted kids, so how did you know? How did you even know he would love to call his children that particular word? Was it intuition? Was it a coincidence? 

His eyebrows knit together with complete and utter confusion as the water just keeps running over his head, and the realization hits him like a ton of bricks. 

The RV. His conversation with Nancy. Him telling Nancy he wants to be someone’s husband and have six nuggets. Him pouring his desires out, thinking that everyone else in the vehicle was sound asleep.

But you weren’t.

Fuck, you weren’t asleep. You heard him. You heard him talking to Nancy, and you– you think that he wants those things with her still. He should clarify it, shouldn’t he? He wants to tell you that it was the dread of the world ending talking for him. He wants to explain himself to you–

Explain himself? Why? You probably wouldn’t care who he has kids with, or who he marries. You would simply give him a thumbs up and a confused look on your face. But– He feels his stomach contracting with nerves, nerves he knows all too well. He doesn’t need to explain anything to you. He doesn’t need to clarify anything. 

But, he doesn’t want you to think he wants that family with Nancy Wheeler.

He really doesn’t.

And he is terrified that he doesn’t want you to misunderstand.

Absolutely fucking terrified.

And then, the realization, the surprise and the nerves turn into absolute guilt. He had also said a few things about you. Nancy told him that it’s sad you had to be included this way into the party, into their problems, but that you looked strong and determined after going into the upside down just one time.

And he replied with how much he desired you wouldn’t have gotten involved at all. It sounded harsh, it sounded vile and venomous… And it was intended that way, or at least that’s what he thought. 

Now, he realizes that he didn’t want you involved so you wouldn’t go through danger, but you did, you went through so much pain and suffering. Nancy was right, you were strong, and you didn’t second guess your actions when it meant saving someone. 

“Shit–” He jumped a bit when he felt the water turn cold, not realizing for how long he had been in his head, thinking, running through his thoughts and memories. He turned the water off and shook his head to get the excess of it out of his hair. 

He got out of the shower and grabbed a towel, a white one that had the smudge of a lipstick stain that never got off. Your lipstick. 

And just that mere stain made his heart jump and miss one beat, two beats, maybe three. Fuck… Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

He really wants you to know he doesn’t mean what he said in the RV.

To both of those things.

Especially the one about Nancy.

“Fuck me.”

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @sherrylyn628 @munson-mjstan @maroon-cardigan @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @ibellcipem @corrodedcorpses @agirlwholovesrockstars

[basicrese]

LOML

luke castellan x fem!reader

angst, angst, angst. mini blurb to help me get my flow back :) based off of LOML by Taylor Swift.

Percy Jackson isn’t sure what’s worse. Luke’s betrayal, or the look on your face when you find out. He’s sure he’ll get nightmares about it.

You’d had a wide smile on your face, the woven flower crown in your hair hinting that you’d just been out at the flower fields with your siblings.

You’d been called to help patch up Percy after what you had been told was a fight, but the somber energy in the room immediately told you something was off. It was too suspicious to have Chiron, Mr. D, Percy, Annabeth, and Grover all in the room for what was supposed to simply be slapping on a band-aid.

The smile on your face fell, and was instead replaced with a subtle frown. Your eyebrows furrowed, and you crossed your arms over your chest uncomfortably. “Is something wrong?” You asked, eyeing everyone in the room.

Percy swallowed and hesitantly glanced to Annabeth, who already had the remnants of tears in her eyes. And if the glossiness told him anything, it was that she was about to burst out crying again. Not that he could blame her.

He watched your frown grow as recognition flashed across your face. You and Luke always had been so in tune to each others emotions, he’s honestly surprised you didn’t notice the lack of his presence earlier.

“Y/N-” Chiron started, but you interrupted him. “Where’s Luke?”

Silence.

Percy didn’t believe in soulmates. It’s weird, because after finding out about greek gods and mythological beings being real, you’d think soulmates wouldn’t be that far off the table. But, they were.

But you and Luke had something Percy could tell was special. It wasn’t just a relationship - it was like a sacred bond bestowed upon the two of you by the gods themselves. Wherever Luke was, you’d be sure to follow, and vice versa. Fuck, you’d practically finish each other’s sentences as corny as that sounded.

That’s why he was so confused Luke would throw it all away so easily.

“Y/N…” Mr. D started, and Percy was sure it was the most emotion he’d ever even seen from him. You immediately began shaking your head, hands trembling as you stared at the ground. “Where is he?” You questioned again.

More silence followed, and Percy knew no one wanted to answer you, and he could understand why. Still, he took a breath and forced himself to look up at you. “He’s gone.”

It was like the five stages of grief flashed in your eyes simultaneously - merging together but still so distinguishable.

“No, he’s not.” You whimpered, “He’s in his cabin. I just saw him barely an hour ago-”

“He tried to kill Percy,” Annabeth finally breathed out. “He wants to overthrow the gods.”

You shook your head, a disbelieving laugh leaving your lips as you ran a trembling hand through your hair, moving up the white flower crown until it was lopsided on your head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said through gritted teeth, “Luke wouldn’t do that. I know him. I know him. He wouldn’t. It must’ve been- been a shapeshifter or something. I mean, with all the other monsters out there there has to be a shapeshifter right? Yeah. That’s all it was. It wasn’t Luke.”

Percy squeezed the table in front of him until his knuckles were white, doing his best to choke down his tears. It was a tempting idea, one that he’d have no problem believing if it hadn’t been for the look in Luke’s eyes. No monster could recreate that kind of rage.

“It was him,” Percy spoke up, “I know it was.”

“You don’t know anything!” You yelled, eyes wild and skin paling, “You don’t know Luke like I do! He wouldn’t do this! Sure, he gets mad at the gods sometimes, but don’t we all? It doesn’t mean we’re gonna up and start a whole rebellion!”

Grover attempted to reach out to you, tears forming in his dark eyes, “I know it’s hard-” He attempted, but you practically jumped away from him. “Don’t touch me.” You growled lowly, pointing an accusing finger in his face. Grover didn’t argue.

Everyone in the room stared at you in pity, and it made you sick. You’d show them. Luke was in his cabin right now, probably trying to sleep or playing with one of the younger campers. Because that’s what Luke does - that’s the Luke you know.

You were the love of his life. He’d told you just two days ago during a secret picnic on the beach way past your curfew. You’d choked up, but told him the same through your tears. Luke had kissed you so hard you swore you were seeing stars, and you remember thinking this kiss had felt different than all the others. Almost desperate, like he was trying to grasp onto something he knew he was losing.

No.

Luke was in his cabin.

You’d left the Big House without even a grunt, practically sprinting across camp to the Hermes cabin. You didn’t care about the weird looks the stragglers were giving you, didn’t care about the soft ache in your legs. You needed to see Luke. Needed to feel him. Needed to intertwine your souls again.

You were panting by the time you reached it, throwing the doors open and looking around wildly. “Luke?” You called, voice breaking a bit as you did.

“Y/N?” someone said, you didn’t know their name. Or maybe you did. You honestly couldn’t remember right now, the only thing running through your mind was Luke.

“Have you seen Luke?” You asked.

The camper shook her head, blonder hair falling in front of her face as she did. “Hey, are you okay-”

You were gone before she could even finish her sentence. You spent hours searching for him, like he was a pair of house keys you’d lost and desperately needed in order to go home.

The moon was high into the sky by the time you stop, your vision blurry with tears and muscles burning. You’d even prayed to your father at some point - which was something you rarely ever did.

You fall to your knees in the grass, hand clutching at the golden bracelet on your wrist. Like had given it to you two nights ago on the beach, embroided in it were the letters “LOML.”

He’dtold you it was because you were the love of his life, but right now in this moment, with your chest puffing and knees weak, you think it may stand for something else.

Because while you may be the love of Luke Castellan’s life, he was the loss of yours.

[basicrese]

a self-indulgent steve drabble because i'm feeling sleepy and lonely

Hearts opened, clothes scattered on his bedroom floor, bodies bared.

Steve had spent the last few minutes looking at you with his thumb brushing over your cheek and fingers splayed along your jaw. Soft snores escaped your parted lips, your cheek smushed against the pillow, and your legs tangled with his under the sheets. The morning sun peeked through his blinds, streaks of gold hitting your skin and making you look more ethereal than you already were. You were utter perfection, a masterpiece hidden in plain sight. Something only those who were worthy could lay their eyes upon.

He didn't think he could fall more in love with you, but he was falling. With every second spent in your presence, he fell deeper and deeper, and he hoped he would never find a way out.

Before he could steal a kiss, you stirred awake, brows pinching together. You forced an eye open, vision clearing, only to be greeted with Steve smiling at you like a lovesick fool—nothing but sweet adoration. 

“Creep,” was all you said before your eyes slipped shut.

He hummed, unfazed, and pressed his lips to your hairline. “Morning to you, too.”

[basicrese]

Poly moonwater or marauders (up to you! I can see both being cute, though marauders would be interesting since theyre all gryffindors) x a partner who thinks snakes are the cutest, and has a really big python of her own? And she often takes it on “walks” (walking outside while the snake is lounging on her arms to get some sun) or chills in her room with the snake just resting on or beneath her robes (calmer snakes in my experience love to slither up sleeves and wrap around abdomens and collars)? My snake loves doing that, and sometimes it gives people a fright haha. My snake is quite large, but just the cutest and most curious thing, she’s helped many of my friends get over a minor phobia before. She also contracts her muscles (not enough to hurt) when wrapped around a hand, which feels like a little hug. LOL sorry for rambling, I love my sweet baby (5 foot long apex predator) so much. Bonus points if reader is very sweet and smiley, just the last person you’d expect to have a big “scary” snake.

this was such a cute and funny request. and, funnily enough, almost immediately after I received it I started seeing this creator with her snake on TikTok and was like "this is perfect!!!"

poly!marauders x whimsical!reader who apparently has a pet snake that her boyfriends didn't know about

CW: fem!reader, reader has hair she can put up in a bun, best friend Barty being a fucking menace, snakes?

Remus let out a breath of relief when he finally made out your form sitting contently under a tree on the castle grounds with your face shoved in a book.

He couldn’t help but worry about you a little bit; he worried about James and Sirius too, mind you, but something about you struck him as a little too pure, a little too lovely to be navigating this scary world on your own.

He knew you could, he just didn’t think you should have to.

It appeared Sirius and James were just as grateful at locating you when Sirius took off in a run to join your little makeshift picnic.

Remus almost felt bad for the interruption of what was likely a very peaceful sanctuary you had built for yourself. But knowing you, you’d be just as happy to have them join you.

Your smile at Sirius’ form as he made it to your blanket let Remus know he was quite right in his prediction.

“Hi Siri!” You greeted tranquilly, causing James to let out a small breath of awe as he all but dragged Remus the rest of the way over to you. 

“Hey Angel!” James called to you as Remus offered you an apologetic smile turned grimace. 

“Do you mind if we join you?” Remus had the grace to ask.

“Of course not; I’d love it if you did.” You responded quickly, shifting over to make room for them all on your blanket.

“Of course you’d be so gracious; our sweet girl.” Sirius cooed at you, but as he went to pull you towards him by your shoulders, he let out an embarrassing shriek as he launched himself away from you. 

“Godric’s saggy balls, Pads; what is the problem?” James asked bemusedly as he took over Sirius’ now vacated spot beside you.

“She’s got a sodding snake in her hair!” Sirius screeched as he pointed at you.

James’ head whipped back towards you to see that, sure enough, there was a medium sized snake seemingly almost curled up in your messy bun.

“Don’t move, Angel.” James said seriously as he stood carefully and brandished his wand. “I’ll get it off of you.”

“Oh, there’s no need, James. She’s very docile.” You said simply as if you hadn’t just scared the living daylights out of your boyfriends.

“Docile!?” Sirius bellowed at the same time as James questioned “she?” 

Remus smirked at his boyfriends’ theatrics, though felt momentarily ashamed he hadn’t realised you owned a snake, or…had a snake friend.

“Is she your pet, dove?” He asked finally, fighting the urge to grimace as the snake curled further around your bun and moved its head to sit at your temple. 

“Yes; her name is Tinkerbell.”

“Tinkerbell?!” James and Sirius chorused.

Remus chuckled at the boys letting their Pureblood show. “Like the fairy from Peter Pan?”

He was rewarded with a pleased smile as you moved your eyes back towards him. “Exactly.”

“How long have you been living with a snake?” Sirius asked severely, causing Remus to nudge him with his knee warningly.

“Barty got her for me for my birthday.” You responded simply.

“You’ve had that thing for months?” James asked, finally earning a swat from Remus.

“She’s not a thing, Jamie.” You gently chided, offering the snake your finger who wrapped her head around it reminding Remus of a cat rubbing up against their owner's leg. “I’m surprised you haven’t seen her before; she’s almost always with me.”

Sirius just let out another horrified squawk as Remus fought the urge to let out a full body shiver.

“You carry… Tinkerbell around with you often?” He queried carefully.

You hummed in acknowledgement as your hand fell back to your book. “She usually wraps around my elbow under my robes, but lately she’s enjoyed nesting in my hair. I think maybe now that it’s getting warmer, she likes to sit in the sun.”

“We really need to talk to Junior about gifting our Angel with dangerous animals.” James muttered quietly to Remus and Sirius as your attention turned towards the devil your best friend himself.

“Hi Treasure! Hi Tink!” Barty called you you; his voice raising an octave when greeting your reptilian friend.

Remus winced when he noticed a slightly larger snake hung casually over Juniors shoulders that seemed to be considering the group as they approached.

“Introducing your sweet girl to the boys?” He asked as he sat beside you on the blanket; speaking about your three boyfriends as if they weren’t there.

“Yes. I don’t think it’s gone particularly well, admittedly.” You responded serenely, reaching out to gently boop Barty’s snake’s nose with your finger. 

“It’s going fine.” Sirius argued; never willing to show signs of weakness in front of a Slytherin. 

Unfortunately for Sirius, Barty seemed to call his bluff. “You’re not afraid of a little old snake, are you Black?”

Sirius scoffed derisively. “I go to school with enough of them, don’t I?”

“Okay, why don’t you pet Mr. Smee here then?” Barty taunted, holding out his large reptilian friend to Sirius. “He won’t bite.” He promised with a Cheshire cat smile.

Sirius looked at Barty sceptically before his eyes nervously darted towards you. 

“Mr. Smee is very friendly, Siri.” You encouraged.

Sirius tried to smile at you before he returned his stormy eyes to Barty. “I don’t make it a habit of petting slimy animals, Junior.”

Barty scoffed as he rolled his eyes. “He’s not slimy, Black; he’s scaley.”

Seemingly pacified, Sirius reached out a cautious hand towards Mr. Smee.

Sirius made a garbled heaving sound as he slowly pulled his hand away from the snake's body where strings of slime connected his fingers to the reptile.

“He is slimy!”

“That’s because I soaked him in slime!” Barty cackled. “You’re so easy, Black. Gods, I should spend more time with the lot of you; this was fun.”

And with that, Barty stood from the blanket, kissed Tinkerbell on the head and then pressed one to your head as well before he skipped off.

“He’s a real menace.” James grumbled as Sirius transfigured a piece of paper into a paper towel and wiped at the slime on his fingers.

“I thought that was very brave of you, Sirius.” You praised him, and almost all of the contempt colouring Sirius’ face faded away as he looked at you lovingly.

“Thanks dolly.”

Thankfully, Tinkerbell remained content in your hair, and the boys remained content pretending there wasn’t a snake on their girlfriend’s head for the rest of the afternoon.

[basicrese]

even at our worst, we know we'll still be okay (luke castellan x apollo fem! reader)

summary: Where Percy's insistent pestering forces Luke to rethink on his possibly not platonic feelings for you, his best friend, and Percy's questions are answered for him with Luke's reaction to you being heavily injured on your return from your quest.

pairing: luke castellan x apollo fem! reader

a/n: i'm actually in love with this, maybe it's just the friends-to-lovers in me (where a love confession happens because one of them was near death's door-) but man.. also, i love including percy so much he's such a kid.

masterlist for this series

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

"Face it, man. You're whipped."

Percy watched Luke choke on his water, coughing as he tried to swallow past the sudden accusation. Wiping at the excess that dripped past his chin, Luke raised a brow at Percy.

"Whipped? For who?" Luke questioned, eyes averting and staring straight ahead, beyond the training grounds towards the meadows in the distance, seemingly searching for something or just doing a poor job at avoiding Percy’s unimpressed stare.

“I’m not blind, as much as Annabeth claims, to this...love stuff.” Percy huffed, half in exasperation and half in exhaustion as he leaned forward using his sword to balance himself. “You’ve been depressed ever since she left for her quest.”

Luke doesn’t need to hear your name to know who Percy was referring to. It’s been weeks since you were chosen by your father, Apollo, to descend on some mighty quest to fetch back his lyre that had been stolen. It wasn’t supposed to be a dangerous quest, but Luke had felt his gut sinking when he first heard the news from you.

“Why does he need to send you out there, where you could possibly be tracked down by monsters to get back a musical instrument of all things?” Luke snapped, exasperated as he runs his fingers through his curls, pacing back and forth in the Hermes Cabin, while you laid on his mattress looking undeniably calmer than he was.

“Luke, my dad won’t purposely send me on some death trap. I'll be fine.” You tried to reassure him, waiting for him to calm down in his pacing before you extended your hands in his direction right as he turned to make another round through the cabin for the seventh time. “Hey, come here.” You gestured. “Sit with me.”

He hesitated, stopping in his tracks as he finally took the time to look at you, noting your concerned expression at him. As if you weren’t about to descend on some ridiculous quest to god knows where all because your father couldn’t pluck up the effort to collect the instrument himself.

The longer your hands stayed outstretched for him, the more his anger and frustration dissolved into the overwhelming need to be near you. One second, he’s standing and the next, he’s laying in bed with you, your arms wrapped around him to stabilise him even though he should be the stronger one. The one to look out for you.

Laying his head on your shoulder as he wrapped one of his fingers around your hair, curling it in his palms, he spoke again in a soft whisper only for you to hear. “I’m worried.”

“I know.” You responded, your hands tracing at the curve of his shoulder, stopping at his collarbone, before your finger moved to tilt his face by the chin to look at you. “You trust me, right?” You ask, knowing his answer but wanting to hear the reassurance all the same.

“Course' I do.” He replied immediately, his eyes intense as he made eye contact with you. That was without question. You could ask him to walk into blazing flames, and he'd trust you would ask for good reason.

“Then you can trust that I’ll make it back alive.”

“Alive can mean lots of things.” He muttered, his eyes growing distant, the ghost of blood and a stinging burn running down the half of his face appearing uninvited in his mind.

“I’ll make it back alive and unharmed.” You reiterated, a knowing look in your eyes as you unconsciously traced at his scar, leaving warmth where it resides, making him shiver instinctively. “It’s a promise, Luke.”

He stayed silent, before slowly moving his hand to cup yours that rested over his scar. “I’m counting on it, sunshine.”

That promise rested over Luke’s conscience, gnawing at the back of his heels, chasing him daily from the early hours as he forced himself not to break over the stress and anxiety before putting on his golden boy facade, to pretend that he wasn't constantly distracted and nauseous over the thought of something happening to you without him being there to protect you.

He would've snuck out of camp if he could, just to find you, but Chiron had been tight-lipped on your destination, his all-knowing gaze piercing right through Luke when he had tried to nonchalantly ask about your whereabouts.

"I wish I could help you, Luke." Chiron had told Luke a few days after you had gone. "However, Apollo's request was clear. Only she shall take on this quest. No one else." The pin-point gaze Chiron had locked onto Luke made it clear he was talking about him.

"I am not whipped." Luke denied. "She's my friend. Like how you're my friend."

"I don't think your friendship with her is normal though." Percy fired back quickly, sipping on his own water as if he didn't casually demolish the older boy. "I swear I caught you bringing her back after curfew to your cabin, a few times in fact."

Luke felt his cheeks flush at Percy's sudden interrogation, smashing facts after facts on an early Tuesday morning. "I've been having.. nightmares lately. She's the only one who keeps them away." He didn't know why he felt like he had to explain himself to the kid, but the longer his friendship with you went under fire, the faster he wanted to get out of this conversation.

"You don't think that's something you should think deeper about?" Percy muttered with a shrug.

Luke is left speechless, his mind short-cutting at the sudden implication of.. him feeling something more for you? His most recent memories flashed through his mind. You tucked under his blanket as you laid beside him for the last night before your quest, a sleepy smile etched on your lips before you whispered him goodnight and he pulled you into his chest so he could feel your heart beating against his to push away any tricks currently playing on his mind, bringing light to how you're the only person he believes could calm him down and bring him peace-

"She's my best friend." Luke replied, more to himself than to Percy. "I'm just worried for her. A quest like that shouldn't take so long, and I keep imagining-"

He stopped in his tracks, not wanting to say his fears out in the open in fear that his words would jinx it, but Percy knew where he was getting at. Percy inched closer to Luke, moving to pat him awkwardly on the back in an effort to comfort him. "It's normal to be worried. From what I heard from Annabeth, you two are really close. I didn't have much conversations with her before she left, but she seems brave, and smart too. I have no doubts she'll make it back. If she's half as good as you, there's no way she wouldn't."

Luke felt a real smile crossing his face, the corners of his lips quirked up at Percy's words. "She's not half as good- she is better than me." He turned to look at Percy, that shine in his eyes noticeable as he talked about you. "Don't let her hear that when she gets back though, she'll talk my ear off for ages."

Percy returned his own smile, elated to see Luke have some improvement in his mood, proof being the first genuine smile Percy's seen in weeks coming from him.

"So.. do you want to stop for today?" Percy attempted with a casual tone.

"Why? Backing out already?" Luke teased, a smirk playing on his lips as he inched towards the kid jokingly with his sword raised.

"No!" Percy denied frantically. "I swear I'm not using the sympathy card as an excuse to get out of training-"

The sounds of a horn cut off his words, groaning across the camp, reaching the training grounds in record time. Luke felt his heart palpitate, nearly crashing into his rib cage.

He barely had time to think, yelling to Percy with urgency flying off his tongue. "Catch you later, Perce!" Then, he was off, his legs carrying him up the hills and back towards the camp entrance.

He heard Percy yell his name in confusion, but he could apologise later for his sudden departure.

You had come back to him.

The journey seemed too long, his shoes scrambling for ground, barely scraping the dirt as he ran towards the front of camp. He didn't know what to expect, a celebration with cheers from the other campers on your arrival, a glimpse of your face with that smile he loves. What he didn't expect was the silence as he came towards a slow jog before ultimately stopping at what seemed to be a crowd gathering around something- or someone.

He pushed his way through, barely making the effort to apologise over the thought of seeing you. His eyes finally caught onto what the onlookers were staring at, and his heart dropped.

You laid on the ground, passed out with what seemed to be dark, angry coils covering your skin, ranging from your neck to the outstretch of your back that was exposed from the gash in your shirt. That stupid lyre laid not too far from you, its golden strings ripped apart.

The sound that tore from his throat barely sounded like his voice, yelling out your name as he pushed through the final barrier in the crowd before reaching for you. He nearly made it before someone dragged him back, grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him away.

The curses that left Luke's mouth would make anyone wince, and he had to resist the urge to punch whoever was holding him back as he twisted his head to face his repressor. "Chris! Get out of my way." Luke hissed, still trying to make his way to you, fury twisting in his gut as he couldn't fathom why no one's helped you yet.

"Calm down, Luke!" Chris pleaded, desperation in his eyes forcing Luke to falter. "I know you want to help her but you have to listen to me. Whatever attacked her left something contagious on her body. Someone already tried helping her but it spread to their skin too!"

Wait? While whatever was attacking your body seemed to grow more intense by the minute, as Luke's gaze locked onto your form and watched the sickening, black coils spread further and further up your neck.

"Rodriguez, does it look like I care if it spreads to me?" Luke spat out, giving his friend a final push. "If she dies, I won't ever forgive myself for standing on the sidelines. Let me go now."

The cold venom in his tone made his friend loosen his hold just enough for Luke to rip himself out of his arms to drop his knees beside you. He grabbed hold of your shoulder, which still had shreds of your shirt to prevent him from being stung by whatever was infecting you, but his other hand which grabbed hold of your back did not face the same fate. The coils snaked onto his palm, and he gritted his teeth at the burning sensation.

Just as he turned you around so he could lift you up, he heard the familiar sound of hooves stamping against the soil and he looked up to see Chiron approaching with a grim expression. No words needed to be said as Luke met eyes with the centaur, a mutual understanding as Luke wrapped his arms around your torso and legs.

He pushed through to help carry you up, barking orders for the crowd to part way as he made his way to the infirmary. The longer he held onto you, the more every bone in his body seemed to scream to let you go, but he only focused on every step it took to get you closer to help, his eyes unable to look away from the paleness of your skin, the blue to your lips.

It seemed unfit for a child of Apollo, a child of the sun, to be dull and lifeless. You looked dead, and if it wasn't for the faint drumming of your pulse he could sense from your wrist, he would've struck the name of your father with such unbridled hatred, Apollo himself would descend from the heavens to condemn him.

"Please." He begged, holding onto you tighter despite his body's cries not to. Begging to who, he did not know, but if any being could save you from the fate you did not deserve, and pass it to him instead, he would gladly offer his prayers and worship. If it meant saving you, he would take your pain and suffer it tenfold just to see you open your eyes again.

It took you five days to recover. The infirmary had been quarantined and no one save for Chiron and Will, the main healer from the Apollo cabin, was allowed in. In those five days, no one dared approach Luke, who seemed near death's door despite having received his own small dosage of ambrosia to heal the coils that had managed to sink into his skin. He had begged Chiron to let him visit you, but Chiron deemed him too unstable to be near you, your recovery process a fragile thing that required tentative hands and patience.

Waiting to see you was a torture not even he could have envisioned for himself. He had been torn apart at the seams, of his belief in the gods and the scars that were immortalized onto his body. He had lived through days of water and nothing but false hope, hiding from monsters and other horrors before he made it to camp, arriving as a scrawny boy with eyes having witnessed events no kid his age should have to go through. Yet, no pain he had experienced could compare to his fears of losing you. If he-

He couldn't think of it without wanting to puke, but if he lost you somehow, he would lose his faith in this world. There would be no one to hold him back, no you, to stop him from letting go of the world that failed him and tearing it down.

It didn't help that in those five days, he had dreams. Of a different world, of salvation. A dark, ancient voice called to him, older than time, with whispers of promised glory and revenge. There was no you, none of your soothing touches or voice to wake him. In those five days, his strength faltered and he made a deal.

On the sixth day, he was woken frantically by a shake on the shoulder from his sleep. He roused awake, dizzy and still-half asleep to see Chris talking to him in rushed incoherent words.

"Awake- She's awake, sleepy-head!"

Luke was half-dressed, still fighting off sleep with aggressive rubbing to his eyes as he tugged on his t-shirt, rushing towards the infirmary with Chris hot on his heels.

He burst through the front door, holding his breath when he finally saw you, propped up on two pillows talking to Will. Tears pricked in the corners of his eyes, blurring his vision as he rushed over to you.

You turned to him then, just in time to see him blink his tears away. "Luke." You called to him softly, and time seemed to stop just for the two of you, and he could only see you in his vision.

"Can you guys give us some privacy?" You asked politely, eyeing Will and Chris, but your eyes never drifted far before moving back to him.

"Of course." Will responded, quickly getting up from his chair towards the exit, dragging a confounded Chris with him with a tug on the back of his shirt. "Hey! I wanted to see her too-" "Give the two lovebirds some time alone, you idiot."

Luke inched closer to you, his heart beating so loudly in his eardrums he swears you could hear it too. You lifted your arms to him and he didn't waste time, taking you in his arms and embracing you so tight, and yet he felt he couldn't be close enough.

"You were dying. In my arms. I felt it when I carried you in here." He muttered into your shoulder, shaking as he finally let out the exhaustion and pain he had been feeling since the day you left.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." You apologised, rocking him back and forth as your voice croaked up. "All I thought of was you. When I fought against that beast, I kept repeating my promise to you. That I would come back to you. You saved me."

He shook his head, feeling his tears wet his cheeks as he pulled back to grab you by the chin, a gentle touch like he was afraid you would disappear if he couldn't see you talking to him, that your voice would be a hallucination he concocted. "I should've stopped you from going. I had a bad feeling since I heard about it. I should've protected you- prevented you from getting hurt in the first place-"

You stopped him with a kiss, desperate yet shy, before pulling away and pressing your forehead to his. "I love you, Luke. I was so scared I would never get to tell you and it would've been my biggest regret. I love you so much, Luke, and I'm sorry if this ruins anything between us but I can't hide it anymore-"

Luke cut you off the very same way you did, but with such intense hunger you gasped when he kissed you, sloppy and with even more desperation, tugging at your bottom lip and pulling you closer with his hand at nape of your neck. "I love you." He muttered through quick breaths. "I love you, it actually hurts because of how much I do." He admitted, grabbing your hand to place right above his heart, which is owned completely and only by you.

He leaned in once more, addicted to the taste of you, kissing you with one hand holding yours to his heart, the other pulling you close so that there was no space between the two of you. When he had to stop so you both could gasp for air, he pressed his forehead back to yours, the first smile stretching at his lips in days. "I never want to be apart from you ever again, you hear me, sunshine?"

You giggled at his words, nodding slightly. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Extra: Luke reappears with you the next day when you insisted on wanting to get out of the infirmary after being cooped up away from the sun for so long. ("You're such an Apollo kid." Luke teases, which you ignore with a roll of your eyes.) He's with you every step of the way, and now that your feelings are out for each other in the open, he doesn't hesitate to kiss you on the cheek or fawn over you without hiding his intensity.

When he makes eye contact with Percy over the room, the damn kid gives him a wink and a thumbs-up.

a/n: i want to expand so much more on this, with kronos taking advantage of luke's weak mind during your recovery and more, OMGGGGGGG. tell me if you guys want more pls and i'll make more parts. thank you for reading if you made it this far <3

update: I am officially making this into a series called ‘everything in between’. To those who want to follow more on their story, you can comment on whether you want to be added to the tag list for this series or check the masterlist!

[basicrese]

hi lovely! I was wondering if when u said you wrote for the marauders you meant just them or their era? also not sure if you're currently taking requests but if you aren't feel free to ignore this next part! could I please have remus lupin sfw headcanons or a short drabble (whichever you prefer 🫶🏽) about him being extra clingy near the full moon and he gets mad when Sirius jokingly tries to take you away from him?

also I'm around the same age as you and I was wondering if you wanted to be friends? totes fine if not 😎 also I love the way you write and you seem so cool. Could I be the 🫧 anon? thank youuuuu

p.s. random question but what's your opinion on taylor swift?

okay now actually byeeeeee

PAIRING Remus Lupin x reader

A/N hello!! I write for most people in the marauders era so not just the marauders. I have added you as 🫧 anon and as for Taylor Swift, I think she’s pretty cool! I wouldn’t consider myself a swiftie but I do listen to a few of her songs <3

WARNINGS absolutely nothing, just clingy Remus Lupin 🫶

As the full moon becomes closer, Remus has noticeable changes in his personality, specifically in his affection towards you. He's always been somewhat reserved in his displays of affection, opting for subtle gestures like casually wrapping an arm around you in the common room or discreetly intertwining your fingers under the desk during class but when the full moon rolls around, his need for your presence skyrockets.

With each passing day leading up to the event, Remus' longing to be near you grows more intense, as if he's magnetically drawn to your side. It's as though he finds comfort in your closeness, seeking refuge from the emotions stirring within him.

Remus has been sitting at the black lake for over half an hour now, wishing you were here with him but knowing that you asked not to be bothered when studying. Currently, you were in the Gryffindor common room with Sirius as you help him study for your guys’ history of magic test. Sirius has never been that good at remembering things, and since it’s a written test, he begged for your help.

Remus wrestled with conflicting emotions as he imagined you and Sirius in the common room. The mere thought of Sirius' hands near you stirred unease within him, knowing that sometimes Sirius' affectionate nature crosses a line. Despite recognizing Sirius's need for your help with studying, Remus couldn't shake the discomfort gnawing at him. With a heavy sigh, he turned away from the serene view of the lake, his steps quickening as he retreated to the safety of Gryffindor Tower, his longing for you clouding his rationality.

As Remus entered the common room, he saw you and Sirius huddled over the history of magic book, your heads close together in concentration. A pang of jealousy surged through him at the sight of Sirius's hand resting casually on your shoulder.

"Hey, mind if I join?" Remus asked, trying to keep his voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside him.

Sirius glanced up, a grin playing on his lips. "course."

Remus settled onto the couch beside you, his hand finding its way to your thigh, his touch gentle yet possessive. He felt a surge of satisfaction as you leaned into his touch, your focus momentarily faltering from the history of magic book.

But Sirius couldn't resist the opportunity to stir the pot. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he reached over and plucked the quill from your hand, his grin widening as he held it just out of your reach.

"Oi, Sirius, give that back," you protested, a playful edge to your tone as you reached for the quill.

Remus's jaw tightened, his possessive instincts kicking into overdrive at the sight of Sirius teasing you. He shot Sirius a warning glare, but his friend only chuckled, the quill still dangling tantalizingly between his fingers.

"Come on, Moony, lighten up," Sirius said, his tone teasing as he waggled the quill in front of you.

But Remus had reached his limit. With a growl of frustration, he snatched the quill from Sirius's hand, his grip tight as he shot his friend a glare that could curdle milk.

"Jesus Christ, Sirius" Remus said (basically yelled). "She’s my girlfriend so please stop flirting with her."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, taken aback by the intensity in Remus's voice. For a moment, there was a tense silence between them, the weight of Remus's unspoken emotions hanging heavy in the air.

Finally, Sirius sighed, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation. "Sorry, Moony. I wasn’t flirting with her though. Just playing but I can take a hint. Just don't forget about our study session tomorrow, yeah?" He said, directing the last part at you.

And with that, Sirius made a show of gathering his things, his departure accompanied by an obnoxious huff and a theatrical eye roll. Remus watched him go, shouting out a meek “sorry” as he was walking out.

When the door swung shut behind Sirius, you turned to Remus, concern etched on your face. "Are you okay?" you asked, reaching out to gently touch his arm. Without a word, Remus leaned forward, his lips brushing against the crook of your neck in a tender kiss. "I'm fine," he murmured, his voice slightly muffled against your skin. "Just... feeling a bit... jealous, I suppose."

You couldn't help but chuckle softly, teasing him gently. "You, Remus Lupin, are jealous?" you teased, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

A playful smile tugged at his lips as he leaned back, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "Oh, shut up," he replied, his fingers twitching as if considering a playful retaliation.

Before you could react, Remus suddenly lunged forward, his fingers finding your sides and tickling mercilessly. Laughter bubbled from you, mixing with his own chuckles as you squirmed beneath his touch, trying to fend off his playful assault.

"Okay, okay, I surrender!" you gasped between laughs, breathless from both the tickling and the infectious joy in the room.

With a triumphant grin, Remus relented, letting you catch your breath as he leaned in to share a sweet kiss, a silent promise of his affection and devotion.

As the tension melted away, you wrapped your arms around each other, sinking into the comfort of the couch cushions and the warmth of the crackling fire. “Apologise to Sirius when you see him again though.” You mutter.

Remus pressed a kiss against your forehead, “I will, don’t worry.”

A/N may or may not have written this when I was at my cousin’s birthday dinner…

[basicrese]

little family || remus lupin

pairing: remus lupin x reader 1,258 words, single mom! reader, established relationship, FLUFFY FLUFF, kid fic, maybe i just crave domesticity a/n: back to back fics like who is she... (had this in the drafts for a WHILE) omfg guys this was soooo crazy indulgent I'm gong crazy no i did not proof read but i hope you like it anway

Remus is just about to leave work when he gets the call. He sees your contact name pop up on his screen, Y/N <3.

"Hello?" he says when he picks up the call.

"Hi, Re," you reply. You voice sounds rushed and anxious. "Do you happen to be free today?"

"I am, love. What is it?" he asks softly, stopping in his tracks to listen to you.

"Something came up at work today that I have to stay and handle, could you pick up Lyla from daycare?"

Lyla, a little girl equivalent to a ball of sunshine. Though you had only been dating for over a year, he sees her as his own.

"Of course I will. I'll bring her back to yours?"

"Yes please, thank you so much. I'll buy takeout for dinner when I'm done. You okay with that?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll go pick her up now."

He hears you heave a sigh of relief over the phone. "I appreciate you so much, I love you."

He smiles. "I love you, too. I'll see you later."

Remus reaches the daycare and realises he doesn't know what he's supposed to do. He walks by the window and sees Lyla colouring in her classroom. She notices the movement and looks up from her drawing. He can't hear her through the window but she's jumping around and cheering at the sight of him, waving excitedly.

He waves back at her, smiling, then notices one of her teachers gesturing to meet her at the entrance.

She gets past the gate to the classroom, leaving Lyla behind. "Hi, I know you're here for Lyla but since you're not her mum I'm going to need your ID," she says pulling out a file from one of the shelves.

He pulls out his wallet and gives it to her and watches her scan a list of what seems to be names of parents of the children.

She takes a few seconds and finally says, "Ah yes, Remus Lupin. You're on her list. I'll get her for you." He watches the teacher look into the classroom and call Lyla.

And then he realises. He's on the list. He's on the list of people who can pick Lyla up from daycare. You put him on the list of people who can pick Lyla up from daycare.

He's snapped out of his thoughts when he hears Lyla's voice. "Remoose!" she yells, running up to him.

"Hiya, angel," he says and picks her up. His heart melts as she immediately wraps her arms around his neck for a hug. "Mummy will join us later, but for now it's just you and me, okay?"

"We can watch TV?" she asks. "And then- then play toys?"

"Mhm, that sounds like a good plan," Remus replies, and they head to your home.

Later, you turn your key to your flat and open the door. You can hear the television playing a movie and the sound of your daughter's laughter. You kick off your shoes and walk into the living room.

Remus is covered in the fake makeup from Lyla's child-friendly kit. His hair is also adorned with little flower hair clips. He sits cross-legged on the floor while she sits in his lap.

"Looks like you had a lot of fun without me, hm?" you say. Lyla jumps at the sound of your voice, immediately running to you.

"Mummy! Remus fetched me today!"

"I know, darling," you kiss her cheek. "I asked him to. Did he take good care of you?"

She nods aggressively. She runs back to Remus, who is already walking up to you.

"Well don't you look pretty today," you tease. He smiles and breathes a soft laugh.

"My makeup artist is talented. She's very serious about this," he presses a kiss to your forehead. "You hungry? I can heat up dinner."

"That'd be great, and then it's time for this bug to go to bed," you pick up Lyla. "Isn't that right?"

She lays her head on your shoulder, visibly getting sleepy as it gets closer to her usual bedtime.

"Say good night to Remus?" you turn your body, so she faces him.

Remus bends down to kiss her hair, "Good night, angel."

Lyla slowly closes her eyes, "G'night..."

Putting your baby to bed goes smoothly, and she easily winds down as she is tucked into bed. She snuggles into her blanket and looks up at you.

"I like it when Remus fetches me from school," you hear her mumble.

You smile at that. "Really?"

She nods. "I really like Remus."

"I really like Remus too, darling."

"I think you get very happy around him, Mummy," she whispers. "You were not very happy last year, but now I see you be happy with him. So I'm happy."

You feel your heart do something. Jump? Lurch? Lyla was right, being a single parent comes with its challenges and you can admit a lot of late nights were spent biting your nails and wiping tears from your cheeks. You tried your best to prevent her from seeing you in that state, but you know she's observant enough for her age.

And that's why you're so thankful to have met Remus. He accepted you despite the fact you had a whole child. He saw you not only as you but also as the mother of your child. He understood that Lyla would always be a priority to you over romance (unlike most men you've met). Despite all its complications, he has been able to fit into your lives as if he's already meant to be there.

A prime example could be taken from today. Surely he could've said no to picking up Lyla from daycare, he's just her mother's boyfriend, after all. But he agreed and handled the rest.

"He does make me really happy," you say to her. "Does he make you happy too?"

"Mhm! He always plays with me and watches shows with me. He also hugs me and kisses me. He makes me happy. He's like my Daddy."

You chuckle, trying to hide the way your heart is going crazy at that. Somehow, you take the leap. "You want Remus to be your Daddy?"

"Can I call him my Daddy?" she asks, her eyes hopeful.

"You'll have to ask him tomorrow," you say, and you wonder what his reaction would be.

"Okay, I'll ask him tomorrow. Good night, Mummy."

You kiss her forehead, "Good night, darling."

You walk out of her room to see Remus placing your plate of food on the table for you. Without saying anything, you approach him and hug him. He hugs you back.

He is silent for a while, swaying your body slowly as you hug. "You were in there for a while, what were you talking about?" he mumbles into your hair.

You take a deep breath and look up at him, chin resting on your chest. "I love you," you say.

He furrows his brows but nods anyway. "I love you, too."

"Lyla wants to call you her dad."

Remus stops swaying. What is he thinking?

"Okay," he says, simply.

You jerk your head back, "Really?"

"Of course, I love her too, you know. I'd be honoured."

Chuckling, you bury your head into his chest and squeeze him. You feel him press a kiss into your hair.

"We're like a little family," he whispers to you. And you can see it too. You, your daughter, and Remus altogether as one.

And there's honestly nothing you want more than that.

a/n: SO LIKE UM this has been in the drafts about the same time as the james one like i said this is just very very indulgent brainrot i still have plans for the james series!!!!!!! ty sm for your support <3 likes and reblogs are always appreciated.

[basicrese]

https://www.tumblr.com/yantastic/746746019753099264?source=share

This is so Trouble, making drama for Peter to cuddle her (I'm so her)

trouble sending peter a text at 10 in the morning while he’s in lab.

‘sos.’

‘what’s wrong?’

‘are you okay?’

‘do you need me to come get you?’

‘you left without saying goodbye.’

‘you were sleeping.’

‘and it’s cold as shit outside.’

‘🤨’

‘what’s that got to do with it?’

‘the last time i woke you up you pushed me away and said that waking you up when i know it’s “that cold outside” is a hate crime.’

‘really?’

‘i don’t remember that.’

‘but im awake and ive had zero cuddles or goodbye kisses so now im mad at you.’

‘i kissed your cheek before i left.’

‘you did? 🥺’

‘do you promise or are you just trying to make me feel better?’

‘i promise.’

‘but i’ll make it up to you and come give you a hundred kisses and a super long cuddle after this lab.’

‘really? 🥺🥺🥺’

‘really, really.’

‘i’ll keep your spot warm!!!’

[basicrese]

jack and kim from kickin' it before they were romantically involved is how i imagine luke castellan reader insert fics with friends to lovers or idiots in love tropes

[basicrese]

"... letting you fuss with his wrist so you can loop the bracelet around it."

oh, the domesticity of it all 

that sword fight called me single in about a million ways 😩😩😩

(did percy and annabeth get to go and have their blueberry muffins!!)

one year with luke castellan

↳ january 14 (again) featuring mr. d

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of apollo reader

word count: 4.1k

summary: you and luke have a great day, and mr. d remembers he is not getting paid enough for this

content: the caught kissing trope my beloved

notes: gifting you all a sunshine pov for the finale <3 for @luvieborealis this whole series was for u

The usually calm and serene arts and crafts cabin is rather tense today.

“Luke, please,” Annabeth begs, her eyes softened and her hands clasped together. It’s the same trick she’s been pulling ever since she first met him, the sad eyes that always make Luke feel guilty and give in. “Grover’s sick so he can’t bring us, but Sally’s making special blue blueberry muffins tonight. What kind of people would we be if we canceled?”

The guilt tripping works, sure, but Luke’s a man who’s made prior commitments. And as a guy with some big plans, these prior commitments are especially important.

“I really can’t take you guys today, I’m sorry.”

“Why not?” Percy presses. He tilts his head at him, squinting and scrutinizing. “What are you doing today that’s more important?”

Luke shrugs, trying for nonchalance. “I’m busy.”

You snicker at his side, adding another knot into your friendship bracelet.

Luke had dragged you away from your volleyball tournament just after lunch to teach him how to draw, and even though he’d given up after a couple of minutes and begged for you to do something else instead, he’d at least tried, which you think is admirable.

(It’d gone a lot better than your attempt last week at teaching him to paint, at least. He’d sat and watched as you worked the entire time and hadn’t picked up his paintbrush once.)

You’d ended up shifting over to bracelet making, a much simpler art. But the kids ambushed him about fifteen minutes ago, so his bracelet sits mostly unfinished in front of him.

“Why are you being so mysterious?” you can’t help but ask.

“Percy’s being nosy,” he says, gesturing at the kid like he’s not there. “I don’t have to tell them anything if I don’t want to.”

“Scared of being teased by kids?” you ask, amusement creeping into your words. You look up at Percy and Annabeth, smiling. “Me and Luke were going to make plans for tonight.”

“Oh,” they say in unison.

Though Annabeth doesn’t seem too surprised, Percy is clearly a little shocked, a reaction you seem to get pretty often these days. Even though you and Luke have stopped bickering nearly as much as you used to, people look at you like you’ve grown another head whenever they find out that the two of you are actually close now.

A little more than close, actually.

“What were you guys planning on doing?” Annabeth asks, not prying, just curious.

Percy must let his frustration get the best of him, because rather unhelpfully, he says, “Probably vandalize my cabin again.”

Luke gives him a flat look. “Percy. How many times am I gonna have to tell you that that wasn’t me?”

He puts his hands up. “Look, I’m just saying the timing was really convenient—”

“Special blue blueberry muffins sound really great,” you say, stopping Percy before he can start on this topic again.

He’s still convinced Luke had something to do with the little bags of alive goldfish left all around Cabin Three, and has been pestering him for a confession ever since. Luke hadn’t been the one to do it—you’d both watched the Stolls hop in and out of one of the windows with the bags in their hands—but Percy refuses to believe it could've been anyone but him.

You tie off the end of your bracelet and cut off the extra string while Luke shrugs next to you.

“The muffins are great,” he admits, letting you fuss with his wrist so you can loop the bracelet around it. “But we already have plans, so I’m not going. And neither are they, I guess.”

The kids protest vehemently, but both of you ignore it, looking instead at the woven string around his wrist. Luke runs his opposite thumb over the chevron pattern before kissing the side of your face and mumbling out a thank you.

His bracelet for you has taken a little longer since he’s had to redo a few knots, but it’s still turning out very nicely. He’s also not nearly as bad at bracelet making as he had claimed to be earlier, and you have the sneaking suspicion that he was just pretending to not know how so you would hold his hands while you showed him.

“Anyway,” you start. “Me and Luke didn’t really have any real plans. So if he doesn’t care, he’s all yours today.”

Percy and Annabeth burst into cheers, and you think for a second Percy’s about to bow down and thank you. You’re awfully amused, but you turn to Luke and see the clear signs of panic in his eyes.

“That’s not true,” he protests quickly, catching Annabeth’s hand in mid-air when she tries to high-five Percy. “We do have plans. She just forgot.”

You give him a weird look that he returns.

You’d literally talked at length an hour ago about how you had no idea what you should do tonight, and here Luke is, lying to the kids about having plans.

He must not want to take them really bad.

“Oh, yeah,” you say slowly, watching as the terror on Luke’s face eases up. “My bad, I forgot. We have that thing later.”

“Yep,” he agrees, waving the kids away from the two of you. “We have that thing. So it’s not even possible for either of us to take you.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Annabeth huffs. “It doesn’t even seem like either of you know what the thing is.”

“Big plans, Annabeth,” he insists, getting up from his seat when neither of them stop looming over him like two dark clouds. He grabs them both by the back of their shirts and drags them towards the door, depositing them on the other side like they’re nothing more than decorative furniture.

“Can you please just consider it?” she begs.

Luke leans against the doorway, looking up at the sky while he pretends like he’s thinking about it.

“Fine. I might consider it. Now get out.”

She groans, giving him a mean glare. “Seriously? ‘I might consider it’ is basically a no, and you know it. You’re not going to think about it.”

“I’m glad I didn’t have to tell you that myself,” he says cheerily, giving her a sympathetic pat on her shoulder. “You’re absolutely right.”

“You won’t even think about it? Not even for your sister?” Percy tries, the both of them masters at the guilt card.

“I think she’ll survive another few weeks without a blueberry muffin.”

Annabeth crosses her arms, immediately forcing Luke into one of their quick conversation-arguments you always have trouble following.

Admittedly, you feel bad for them. As someone who used to argue with Luke on a daily basis, you are unfortunately very familiar with how stubborn he can be once he’s made up his mind.

Once, you’d argued over a stupid fact for an entire day because he refused to go back on his original opinion. It’d been “the principle of the thing,” apparently, and he’d argued and argued and argued even after you’d literally taken out an entire book to prove him wrong.

Percy would probably have to hold Luke at gunpoint before he agreed to skip out on your plans tonight, whether they were real or not.

“Sorry, guys,” you say, giving them a sympathetic smile you hope they can see. “Maybe next time.”

All hope that might’ve been swimming in their eyes dies out immediately, and it makes you feel bad. The two of them grumble their entire way out of the cabin, huffing and complaining about how unfair Luke is.

When he kicks the door shut, he turns to you with a massive grin playing on his face. He practically dances all the way back to his seat, sitting down next to you with a relieved sigh.

You give him a look. “You could’ve been nicer.”

He shrugs, focusing again on his bracelet. He looks pleased with how it’s turned out, a chain of sunflowers that he’ll wrap around your wrist when he’s done.

“Don’t worry. They’ll get over it.”

—

Percy and Annabeth do not get over it.

You catch them talking to Mr. D on the porch of the Big House—presumably about going into Manhattan by themselves—and the conversation goes about exactly as you’d expect.

He laughs in their faces, and they walk away, dejected. When you see the look Percy gives Luke, you tell him it’s probably for the best that you both stay clear of any body of water for the near future.

And sometime after you’d left the arts and crafts cabin, you’d seen Annabeth by the volleyball courts. You’d waved at her from across the grass, but she’d done nothing but stare menacingly at you, even letting the volleyball hit the floor right in front of her.

“The look she was giving me was scary! It felt like I was in a horror movie,” you complain to Luke out by the fields. “Those kids are haunting me.”

“You serious?” He curls his sword around yours while you’re distracted and whips it into the dirt, the clatter of it kicking up dust. “You didn’t even do anything. I was the one who kicked them out.”

“I lied to them, though,” you huff, putting your hands on your hips. “Do you not feel bad? They’re always so excited coming back from Manhattan, and they’ve probably been looking forward to this all month. Percy probably just wanted to see his mom.”

Luke doesn’t answer, too busy appreciating the disarm maneuver he’d just done. “Was that three hundred eight to three hundred nine?”

“Luke, I know for a fact you aren’t counting our wins right now.”

“Yep. I’m not. Sorry, babe.”

He hands you your sword again, and you take it from him mindlessly, still thinking about the frown on their faces when Mr. D had laughed at them.

And you thought you’d been mean! Mr. D was a different kind of evil for laughing at them.

“He isn’t special for missing his mom,” Luke jokes, giving you a toothy grin. “He’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

It falls flat when you don’t laugh.

He clears his throat. “Look, Sunshine, you’re too nice. Just cause they’re kids doesn’t mean you can’t say no to them.”

“We could’ve both gone with them,” you suggest. “And we would’ve all gotten what we wanted. We didn’t even have any actual plans, Luke. I can’t help but feel bad.”

Realizing you actually do feel guilty about it, he sheathes his sword before dragging you closer. He even rubs soothing circles into your upper arms because it’s something that always seems to work on you, and your chest warms at how sweet he is.

“I’ll talk to Mr. D later,” he offers. “I’ll convince him to reschedule their trip when Grover’s feeling better, okay?”

“You will?”

“Of course I would, if it’d make you feel better.”

“It would,” you say honestly. “Thank you, Luke. You’re the best.”

“It’s no problem,” he answers, grinning. “But, uh…”

“But?”

“I think my disarm from just now should still count towards my score.”

“You’re still thinking about that?” you ask, and he’s quick to nod. “That shouldn’t have counted, I was distracted.”

“Gotta pay better attention, then,” he chides.

He’s smiling at you, his eyes lit up, and you try not to feel too bad when you pull his sword out from where it’s sheathed against his hip and hold it up to his neck.

“Should this count as my three-hundred tenth win, then?” you tease, watching realization bloom on his face. “Cause you were distracted.”

It takes a second for realization to bloom on his face, but then he shakes his head, unable to stop himself from smiling.

“We can’t just count everything as a win, you know. We weren’t even fighting.”

“I think I deserve it, though.”

“You think so?” Luke takes another step closer to you, making you back up—right into the point of a dagger.

You pat your side with your free hand, expecting to feel your blade, but coming up empty.

“Should this count as my three-hundred ninth win?” Luke repeats in a bad imitation of your voice, and you can’t help but laugh.

You slip his sword back into the spot at his hip while he puts your dagger back safely in the inside pocket of your jacket.

“I still have no clue how you manage to steal stuff from right under my nose,” you say while the two of you make your way back to the pavilion for dinner. Your hands brush against each other as you walk, your matching bracelets wrapped around both of your wrists.

Luke makes that face that tells you he’s about to make a stupid joke, and you almost laugh at how predictable his humor can be.

“Like the way I stole your heart?” the two of you say in unison.

The smirk flickers off his face. “How’d you know I was about to say that?”

“I could feel it in my bones.” You link your hands together while the two of you head past the Big House. “I have a sixth sense for your jokes.”

“Maybe that means we’re both just really funny.”

“Funny? That’s not the word I’d use to—”

You’re pulled to an abrupt stop when Luke stops walking, your body jerking backwards where your hands are still connected.

“Wait, I just realized I forgot something in here,” he says, nodding to your left. “Do you mind coming in with me? I’ll make it quick.”

The two of you are outside the arts and crafts cabin again, the curtains drawn shut over the windows and the lights outside the door turned off.

You shake your head. “Course not.”

You were planning on making up a fake detour to spend an extra few minutes with him anyway, and now you don’t even have to. Your fingers slip out of his grasp as you jog ahead, opening the door for him.

“Ladies first,” you insist.

“Funny,” he says, following you up the steps.

“What’d you forget, anyway?” you ask, peering into the dark room. It’s impossible to see anything past the threshold of the door, and it kind of freaks you out.

Luke leans against the opposite side of the doorframe, but he makes no move to go in. He’s just smiling at you.

All he says is, “Ladies first, I thought?”

You roll your eyes before stepping over the threshold. “How chivalrous.”

With the sun long set by now, the cabin is pitch black, but behind the divider that splits the cabin into two sections, you see the brief flicker of candle light.

You feel along the wall for the light switch but find warmth instead — Luke’s hand.

He links your hands together again as he shuts the door behind you, leaving the both of you in utter darkness.

The hair on the back of your neck stands up. You plant your feet, making him stumble slightly.

“Luke?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you lure me here to murder me?”

He sputters behind you, and he spins you around to look at him despite there being no way he can see your face. “The fuck?”

“This feels like a horror movie. You do realize that, right?”

Luke guffaws. “No, I’m not here to murder you, are you insane?”

“That’s good, then. I was worried. You wouldn’t beat me in a fight.”

“My three-hundred and nine wins say otherwise,” he quips, making sure to emphasize the fake win he’s added to his real score. “And hey, if I was a murderer, I would at least knock you unconscious first. Couldn’t risk my pretty victim running away, obviously.”

You shove him away from you as you move closer to the light source. “Hilarious.”

“I really do try.”

You see one candle and then two, lighting up the way to whatever is on the other side of the wall. You almost turn back to look at him before remembering the whole pitch black thing, so you just continue following the path made of tealights.

When you turn the corner, you find that all of the candles are surrounding something sitting oddly in the center of the floor. Luke lets go of you then, and you crouch down and crack the top of it open.

It’s a basket, you realize. And at the bottom of it is…

Food.

Your favorite foods to be exact. They’re arranged so gorgeously you almost don’t want to touch anything, but the light shifts and you catch sight of the sunflowers tucked into the bottom of the basket.

It had taken an embarrassingly long time, but you finally realize what this all is.

Luke wasn’t trying to murder you—he was going to take you out on another date.

“Did you do all this for me?” you ask, your voice wavering.

You can hear the smile in his voice when he says, “You think I led you here just for fun? I have the rest set up out by the beach.”

“I thought you were trying to freak me out with the dark room,” you admit, setting the basket down as carefully as you can.

Luke already has his hands outstretched for you, and you drag him closer by the front of his shirt to pull him into a long kiss.

You remember distantly Clarisse complaining about how Luke was good at absolutely everything he does, and you’re happy to say that she’s absolutely right.

Luke is a great friend, a great fighter, and a great kisser. His hands thread through your hair as the two of you stumble around the room for the nearest solid object, finally finding a table that he’s quick to help you on top of.

Almost immediately he’s pulling you into another kiss, but you try your best to get some words out.

“This is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” you rush out. He’s standing kindly between your legs and is at the perfect height for you to smother in affection.

“‘m glad,” he mumbles, running a hand down your sides. “Sorry I scared you.”

“That’s okay—mmph—I was—”

Luke backs up for just a second, both of his hands on either sides of your face.

“Sunshine,” he says firmly.

“Yeah?”

“Please stop talking.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” you protest, swerving out of his way. “I have one more thing.”

He sighs. “Make it quick, please.”

“Is this why you refused to take Percy and Annabeth to his mom’s house?”

He gives you a look. “You’re still thinking about that?”

“Yes. Now answer.”

Luke kisses your cheek, laughing softly to himself. “Then yes. Surprise.”

He presses the next few kisses of his into the grin on your face, but he doesn’t seem to mind your smiling.

For a second, you almost forget about the picnic he’s prepared, too busy thinking about how cute he looks in his long sleeved shirt and how warm his arms are. You hadn’t expected this at all, but you honestly would’ve still been happy even if there was no picnic at all. You would’ve been perfectly fine if Luke had just dragged you into a dark, scary cabin to makeout with him.

He sighs against your lips when you throw your arms around his shoulders, and you shiver when he tilts his head to kiss you even harder.

You’d been a little spooked earlier, but the most frightening part of the night has to be when the overhead lights go on, filling the entire room with the harsh fluorescents.

“Alright, show’s over,” a very familiar voice groans. “Oh, great. It’s you two?”

Luke squints in the direction of the door, both of your eyes still adjusting to the harsh change in lighting.

“Hey, Mr. D,” Luke says weakly.

Your face heats up, and you pointedly look anywhere but in the god’s direction. You’d known it was him the second he’d opened his mouth, but it’s somehow worse now that Luke’s confirmed it out loud.

You glance back at the window behind you and wonder if Mr. D would chase you if you made a run for it.

Luke helps you off the table and you fix the collar of his shirt for him, bracing yourself for your camp director’s approach.

“I think I liked it better when you two were at each other's throats in the violent way,” he complains, completely unamused. “Please go back to trying to kill each other every other day.”

“Sorry, you—uh. Had to walk in on that, sir,” Luke answers, somehow still able to form a coherent sentence.

You aren’t quite sure what would happen if you opened your mouth to speak and don’t really want to find out. You look up at the man and see he has his nose turned up at you two, disgusted.

“You demigods get braver and braver each year,” he says, but he clearly does not mean it in a good way. “At least those troublemakers from a few years ago were smart enough to be secretive about breaking camp rules. And yet here you two are, in a rec room after hours, with all of the lights on! And you didn’t even lock the door!”

You and Luke meet eyes for a very quick and very confused second.

“You were the one who—”

Mr. D huffs. “Are you going to say something, at least?” he demands, crossing his arms over his athletic jacket.

You hesitate before responding. “We’re sorry?”

“We won’t do it again.” Luke suggests.

The god sighs, exhausted. He rubs at his temples furiously. “I don’t even know what I’m going to do with you two. If only those curfew harpies ate you before I got here.”

“It’s not after curfew,” you say unhelpfully.

The face Mr. D makes at you is definitely classified as a scowl.

“Chiron is so much better at these than I am,” he complains, like this isn’t his job. Already moving towards the door, he gestures vaguely to the space around you and says, “Get rid of this.”

You and Luke look at each other again, stunned.

“That’s it?” Luke asks before he can stop himself.

You were honestly thinking the same thing. Compared to Chiron, Mr. D is known for doling out the more unfortunate punishments. You’re surprised he hasn’t already thrown you both into the woods with nothing but the clothes on your back, but you at least still know that talking back will make it worse, so you hit Luke’s shoulder and gesture for him to shut up.

Mr. D has a foot out the door already, a hand pressed to his eyes like he’s been blinded. “Just clean up. And then get out of my sight. Preferably forever.”

The door slams shut behind him, and there’s so much force behind it that it sends papers on a nearby table fluttering into the air.

It’s quiet in the cabin for a solid thirty seconds, with nothing but your breathing as a sign of life. You’re both standing unnaturally still.

“Luke,” you start slowly, unsure what to say.

Almost immediately, he erupts into laughter next to you, the sound echoing across the room and up to Olympus itself, probably. You’re absolutely mortified, but his joy is so infectious that you can’t help the shocked laugh that forces its way from your chest.

“I can not believe Mr. D had to walk in on that.”

He shrugs. “He could’ve walked in on worse.”

You snap your neck up at him. “Luke.”

“What? It’s the truth!”

You wrap your arms around one of his and press your burning face into his sleeve. “I don’t think I’m letting you kiss me ever again.”

“You don’t mean that,” he says, the smile on his face no doubt turning smug.

(He’s absolutely right.)

“I mean it, you asshole. You’ll be lucky if I ever even look at you again.”

“How long do you think you could go without talking to me?” Luke asks, pretending to think about it.

Both of you already know the answer: Not very long.

“I’d be fine,” you say, your voice wavering with the force of your smile. He runs his hands up your sides, drawing laughter from your throat. “You’d probably go crazy, though. Wind up in the infirmary with an incurable sickness.”

“Probably.” He leans in close to smatter kisses over your face, covering your cheeks with proof of his affection. “A sickness only cured with a true love’s kiss, I think.”

You make a face, but the adoration there is undeniable. “That’s dumb.”

Luke clears his throat dramatically, looking awfully confused. His next words are interrupted by his fake coughing.

“Oh no,” he says, eyes wide.

You’re grinning when you say, “You’re ridiculous.”

“I think the sickness might’ve already started.”

You put the back of your hand to his forehead, feeling for warmth. “You know what?”

“What?”

“I think so too.”

“I need medical attention,” he says through his smile. “If only there was an insanely hot nurse around to save me from this disease—”

You slide your hands into his hair so you can shut him up with a kiss, because you can do that now.

Because it’s January 14, which means you’ve been dating for three months, and you’re free to kiss Luke Castellan whenever you’d like.

Luke hums against your lips, drawing you deeper into his arms.

You’ll have to thank the gods that he was patient enough to play the long game.

notes: and it’s over omg </3 i had such a great time writing for sunshine and luke they are my everything!! its so bittersweet letting them go but thank you all so much for sticking around for this series :) i hope u enjoyed the finale and my apologies for how long it took lolol

[basicrese]

do we have any sick!trouble and luke taking care of everything for her??(including her hehe🤭) if not then i’d like to think she would probably try to push herself through the day making sure camp doesn’t get set on fire bc older sister core! + dionysus probably dgaf 🤷🏻‍♀️ and maybe only luke noticing that she’s breaking out in a cold sweat and her movements a little more sluggish than usual but shes stubborn af so she refuses to rest

🐥

also ur works are crushing me jo they’re soo good😭💗

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

luke castellan x dionysus!reader

a/n: no trouble tags fuck it we ball! no edits either lmfao fluff :) can be a standalone just know reader is camp mom and Luke calls her trouble/slight cabin 12 mentions but not important (partners in crime series if you wanna check it out)

wc: 860

Luke doesn’t think he’s ever seen you be quiet.

Your voice is synonymous with the harmony of Camp Half-Blood in all of its forms: early morning announcements over the loudspeaker that serve as a wake-up call for campers to be ready for cabin inspections, hollow outcries to keep certain deviants in line (the Stolls and your brothers are a deadly force to be reckoned with), comforting words like kisses for scraped knees for the little ones, down to the gentle blanket of your singing at lights out. Luke also just knows by now that you love to have the last word—gods forbid someone else beat you at something you’re good at. Words always come easy when it comes to you (abilities of sons of Hermes aside) he finds out—but he can’t think of what can convince you to go back to bed today, especially with a temperature of 100.7 F.

He’s been circling you like a hawk this whole morning, not chastising (because clogged sinuses and all you’d probably fight him to your last breath), but rather helping out where he can. He swiftly double-checks counselor assignments once your puffy eyes leave the page, steers you away from walking straight into the fires of the forge instead of the exit at the armory, and waves off any bystanders who dare to get caught in the crosshairs of your bullheadedness.

In times like these, Luke’s almost grateful to be his father’s son (still a hard no, but you get the point). Doing these tasks undetected and mostly through a sleight of hand is better than worrying you even if he’s already at his wit's end; you’re quick in your own right too, body and brain separated today yet working on autopilot through a foggy sick-riddled mind. He hates leaving you like this even for a moment despite your protests of being able to handle yourself, but the two of you are spread thin today with all the work to do.

Luke finds you later after his workshop with your head against the cool stone of the climbing wall. You sniff into your sleeve, a wet sound stifled by the worn-down orange uniform you all wear, though yours looks as exhausted as you are, eyes closed and motionless even with lava slowly trickling from the top.

“Trouble? Are you okay babe? Grover fell off the wall already, you should… restart the mechanism,” he mutters, a big hand clasping at the nape of your neck like someone grabbing a kitten by its scruff.

“He’ll be fine, he’s a big boy,” you mumble with your face still attached to the rocks. “I’ve seen him climb over the Ares table for the last donut at lunchtime, molten lava and boulders should be a piece of cake.”

“At least cake is less painful and more delicious,” the satyr groans, hairs singed down to his hooves. Luke sighs, helping Grover back onto his feet for a well-deserved break.

“Babe…If you don’t move, sooner or later the lava’s gonna smother you.”

He shakes your arm since the controls are wedged between your body and the wall but it’s as if your body is bolted to the floor. A dissonant noise crawls out of your throat, “Dunno, kinda sounds nice. Maybe it’ll clear my sinuses.”

“Maybe it’s time to admit you’re sick.”

Even if he can’t see your face he knows there’s a scowl carved across it, “M’not sick. Just some allergies. I don’t get sick, Lu. Being sick is for the weak!” Lava continues to slide down the wall like molasses, inching you closer to a fate of fire— and your boyfriend watches you try to welcome it with weary arms.

“If you’re not sick, then I’m the best singer at Camp Half-Blood,” Luke drones as he crosses his arms. He can hear Percy laugh from the sidelines at that, silenced quickly by a glare.

“Now that would really clear her sinuses—even better if he dresses up for Theatrics again,” the son of Poseidon sniggers until a stray boulder comes barrelling towards where he and Grover are sitting. Everything’s suddenly less funny.

“It was one time, Jackson, and I wasn’t…” Luke sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Trouble was just mending a costume.”

“It’s okay Luke, not everyone can pull off a corset.”

“Grover, another word out of you man and I’ll make sure your legs are permanently hairless,” Luke grits, finally tired of the chit-chat and more focused on getting you to rest. In one quick movement, he sweeps you off your feet and over his shoulder while his other hand slams on the button to reset the gears of the climbing wall. A delayed reaction falters from your throat, something of a yelp and an exhale.

“Luke! Put me down!”

But he’s already off in the direction of Cabin 12 to get you settled under the covers for at least the rest of the day until you’re up and kicking again. Your protests are scratchy but loud as he takes you away from the two kids and it's as if everything is right in the world again.

“Remind me not to get a girlfriend that stubborn one day,” Percy mumbles, bumping shoulders with his best friend.

[basicrese]

"You can't deny the gods."

"For you, I'd try to."

see these are the kinds of dialogue that tell you the romance is going be tragic 

"... I need to be okay with you being gone. I can’t expect things to always stay the same.” 

frances is this foreshadowing? frances is this foreshadowing. fRANCES IS THIS -

THE PROPHECY | LUKE CASTELLAN

synopsis: series of events between zeus!reader and luke that started the prophecy. not canon-compliant; inspired by the prophecy by taylor swift.

series masterlist | previous | next

Hand on the throttle, thought I caught lightning in a bottle, but it's gone again.

"Do you think Thalia knew I loved her?"

There was a bite in the air, as there always was when the summer began to fade and fall began to creep up at Camp Half-Blood. It happened every year, at least for the past three years you've called Camp Half-Blood your home.

Luke sat beside you on the hard, dirt floor, looking up at the green of Thalia's pine tree. The summer campers knew of her legend, but it was the year-rounders like you and Luke who understood her sacrifice best. There was a feeling of guilt and gratitude that engulfed all of you, like the protection Thalia blanketed over the campgrounds. You were thankful that demigods had a place to feel safe, but it came at the cost of a life. Thalia should be here.

"Of course she knew," Luke replied, unconsciously yanking out the blades of grass that flourished between the cracks in the floor. "She's your sister."

"Yeah, but do you think she knew I chose to love her?" You clarified, turning your head to face him. You did this every year, you and Luke at the foot of Thalia's tree once the summer campers all left for the year. “I mean yeah, I had to love her because she’s my sister, but do you think she knows that I would’ve chosen to love her even if she wasn’t? I feel like I never told her that. We always fought.” 

Each year you studied Luke and noted the things that were different. He's older now. His arms were more defined, muscles beginning to form on his otherwise lanky frame. He'd grown taller in the last few months and his body was adjusting to his new height. The pants he wore all of last summer were discarded a few months ago. They stopped short on his ankles and Luke decided that it was time to let them go. 

Another bead was added to his necklace, three wooden beads clanking against each other, just like yours, when he moved his body too quickly. A new bracelet adorned his wrist given to him by a young girl in the Hermes cabin before she left to go back to Virginia for the year. Luke had a collection of bracelets stashed in his bedside drawer. It was a reminder of all the demigods he wanted to protect. Some became painful reminders of the ones he couldn't.

Luke pursed his lips, "Sisters fight. I don't think she took it personally."

Each year you studied Luke and treasured the things that stayed the same. He still had the same smile as he always did, bringing you back to when you and Thalia first met him all those years ago– just three kids fighting for your lives all on your own. You and Luke were the same age, him only your senior by a few weeks, but he took the protector role seriously. Luke was your safe place before Camp Half-Blood. 

His curls were the same, especially in the mornings when he first gets out of bed; all wild and unruly, just like how he is when he wasn't carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Some people say it's because he's the son of Hermes so mischief ran through his veins, but there was nothing about Luke that mirrored his father. He was too good to be like the gods.

"I just wish my last words to her weren't that," You uttered, a bitter taste in your mouth as you replayed your last conversation with Thalia. In the final stretch of your journey to Camp Half-Blood, you and Thalia got into an argument. In hindsight, it was petty, a disagreement that any older and younger sister would have, but it felt big at the moment. You didn't speak to her for two days. And then, in the blink of an eye, there was a blinding light, and suddenly, your little sister vanished.

You don't even remember what the fight was about anymore.

"You need to forgive yourself," He said, flicking away the blades of grass he had in between his fingertips, "This wasn’t on you."

He said this every year, yet it never felt rehearsed. It always felt genuine when Luke said it. You wondered if he got annoyed at how you brought this up each year, this never-ending feeling of guilt that you didn't turn around to see if Thalia was behind you, that you couldn't protect your little sister, but Luke was patient with you. If it bothered him that you thought about it often, he didn't show it.

"Sometimes it feels like it is," You whispered, watching a singular pine fall from a branch. You like to think that Thalia did these things to let you know that she's listening. "Our dad hasn't talked to me since."

Luke clenched his jaw, wiping his hand on the fabric of his cargo pants. His warm palm took your hand, giving it a soft squeeze, "You're better off."

"Maybe."

"You are," He said, clearing his throat. His chest felt heavy as he spoke. "I have to tell you something."

You turned your hand over, lacing your fingers together. Holding Luke's hand always felt right, even when you were fourteen and he had to drag you away to safety from the monsters who were out to get you; even when you were fifteen being woken up by the nightmares caused by the empty Zeus cabin, a chilling reminder that your sister was supposed to be there; even when you were sixteen and began to take on more responsibilities at camp despite your protests. "What is it, Luke?"

"I have a quest," He admitted. He'd been keeping this from you for days. He was meant to embark on this journey today, but he pleaded with his father to give him until tomorrow to begin. He knew the day the summer campers left was hard on you. 

Your stomach dropped. Luke had been waiting for a quest from his father for years. You watched him fall into a pit of despair every time a camper who'd been at camp for a shorter period of time got a quest and returned with the glory of the strongest and bravest champions. You knew Luke wanted the opportunity to prove himself to his father. This quest was it, but it didn't mean that you were enthusiastic about the idea. "When do you leave?"

"In a few hours."

"Oh."

"Are you upset?"

"No," You said, then paused. You thought about it. Luke let you think in silence, rubbing his thumb along your skin. "Yes, but I can't do anything about it. I can't stop it."

"Say the word and I will, you know that," Luke rebutted, staring at you now. "I won't go if you don't want me to."

"Luke," You sighed, "You can't deny the gods."

"For you, I'd try to." Sometimes Luke said things that worried you. You'd always been told that your allegiance should be to the gods, your parents. Sometimes you felt differently, but you never said it out loud, but Luke had no problem doing it. He made it clear that his allegiance was to the people he loved, to you. 

"You should go," You said, ignoring the shake in your voice. It was tempting to tell him to stay; Tell him to be content to live a quiet life in the safety of these grounds, to be content with the glory he received from being the head counselor of the Hermes cabin, as the best swordsman at camp. But Luke craved more to life than this, you knew that. He needed more than another notch on his belt from Capture the Flag. He deserved more. He deserved a father who cared about him. Maybe this quest is the key to giving him exactly what he needed. You couldn’t in good conscience keep him from that.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." The lie burned your tongue. While some demigods returned victorious, some never returned at all. The thought of it made a chill run down your spine. It made Luke flinch.

He wrapped his arms around you. The position was awkward, but neither of you cared. When you were younger, his curls tickled the side of your cheek when you hugged him. You used to be able to look him in the eye back when you were the same height. You used to be able to memorize the features on his face; the crinkles by the side of his eyes that would appear when he'd smile, eyelashes brushing against the stray hairs of his eyebrows; full cheeks dusted with the faintest shade of pink from the beating sun or the wind chills; a crease under his lips that cast a shadow on his chin.

Now that you're older, his curls fell against your temple when he held you like this. His face was thinner, jaw more defined and cheeks hollow, like his youth was being drained from him each year. But his heart remained the same. A steady thump against your own, a beat that became synonymous with home. 

“I feel like this is a test,” He murmured, shaking as he spoke. He’ll blame it on the wind if you asked, but he knows that his words would fall flat. You always did know when things felt wrong with him. Sometimes he thought that you knew him better than he knew himself. Luke licked his lips, “Like he’s expecting me to fail and prove what he’s known all along.” 

“You always tell me that I’m more than what the gods think of me,” You said, looking up at him. Luke was staring at the sky, jaw rigid as he fought back the tears. There were only a handful of things that made Luke emotional– talking about his father was one of them. He used to cry when he talked about May, too, but now when someone asks about his mother, his tone turns robotic. He recited her fate like a broken record, waiting for the inevitable looks of pity from the onlookers. You brushed your thumb along his jaw, “Luke?” 

“Hm?” His eyes darted to yours, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips as he studied your features. Luke always knew you were beautiful, but sometimes when he was this close to you, it knocked the breath out of his lungs for a moment, like he couldn’t believe you were real. 

“You always tell me that I’m more than what they make me out to be,” You repeated, holding his face in the palm of your hand, “And yet you never believe it for yourself.” 

He couldn’t help but chuckle. You’d called him out on his hypocrisy more times than he could count. You were right, though. He did always tell you that the opinions of the gods didn’t matter, not when they didn’t know you like he knew you, not when they were too preoccupied in their own world to realize that you were the greatest thing they created. 

“You are more than what your father thinks.” 

He wanted to believe you, he really did, but all his life he’d been told that he was destined for something great. And yet the things he’d been able to accomplish so far seem so miniscule, irrelevant, in the context of the gods. He craved more. 

When Luke was a child, May Castellan used to mumble the same phrase over and over again. He didn’t think much of it then, nothing that his mother said usually made any sense to his nine-year-old self anyway, but the more time he spent at Camp Half-Blood, the clearer her words became. Luke was destined for something, it’s in the cards, it’s in the hands of fate. This quest might be it, the first step to reaching eternal glory. 

There are times though, during moments like this, with you beside him, when he thinks that he’ll be fine not reaching eternal glory. He can live out his life happily with just this; you and him at the foot of Thalia’s tree, with you telling him he’s more than what the gods want him to be. After all, he’d give up eternal glory if it meant being with you. 

“You’re gonna be okay without me around?” He teased. For years, it had always been you and Luke. It was a type of co-dependence that made Chiron and Mr. D's eyebrows raise. They found it dangerous. You overheard them talking in the Big House about it once, how unnatural it was for two demigods to choose each other despite the dangers of it. You joked that it was a trauma bond of sorts, but you and Luke both knew that it was more than that. Neither of you said it out loud, though, both too scared to ruin whatever this was.

“No, probably not,” You confessed. Your words took him by surprise. He was expecting you to join his teasing, but he found no trace of banter in your tone. You bit your bottom lip, “But you’re gonna come back, so I’ll be okay. I need to be okay with you being gone. I can’t expect things to always stay the same.” 

Luke couldn’t help but frown at your words. He knew you were right like you always were, but he didn’t like the idea of things changing. So much in his life moved with the tides, and up until he met you, he was fine with it. But the idea of the two of you changing, the idea of one day not having this, not having you, well, Luke didn’t think he could stomach the idea. His lips hovered over the crown of your head, almost touching you but not quite, “Not us, though. It will always be us.” 

Luke didn’t know what he was destined to do, what prophecy the gods and the Fates had in store for him, but the only thing he was sure of was you. And that was never going to change if he could help it.

[basicrese]

One-Sided

Brief Description: The pains of being in love with your friend are bad, but the pains of said friend not liking you back are worse.

Point of View: 1st person

Word Count: 2155

Character: Sirius Black x Reader

House: Gryffindor

Year: Sixth Year

Prompt:

Sitting in the surprisingly empty common room, I stared at the textbook sitting on my lap. At one point it felt like I was going cross eyed from how long I was staring at the properties of whatever kind of ingredients for whatever kind of potion we were going to be making in class next week.

At this point in my studying I didn't even know what I was reading, just hoping that someone would appear out of thin air and save me from this painful reading.

"That was so incredibly stupid of you lot," a familiar voice growls from the portrait hole.

My eyes finally leave the textbook on my lap for the first time in what felt like days to see what Remus was talking about.

Remus, who was the one snapping at the rest of the Marauders walks over to me and collapses on the floor right in front of my feet. I watch as the other Marauders climb through the portrait hole - my eyes lingering a bit too long on one of the boys - before I glance back down at Remus.

"Why are you on the floor, Moony?" I ask inquisitively, shoving my textbook into my bookbag as my prayers for a distraction have finally been answered.

Remus looks up at me, giving me a lazy grin before he rolls onto his stomach and rests his head on his arms.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?" Sirius saunters over, smirking over at me. "What's a beautiful lady such as yourself sitting along in the common room for, L/n?"

"Studying, Black," I answer, grinning up at him. "I don't suppose you know what that means."

Sirius tosses his head back and laughs, playfully kicking my shin as he sits down next to me and throws his arm over my shoulder, bringing me close to his body. My face heats up at the contact, I can see Remus, James, and Peter smirking at me. They all know about my feelings for Sirius, apparently my feelings for Sirius can be spotted from a mile away, according to the other three Marauders.

"This is why I like you, Y/n," he announces, his words causing my heart to do backflips. "You have a witty response for everything."

"Mhm," I hum in response, glaring at the rest of the Marauders as they smirk knowingly over at Sirius and I.

"So can I ask what you lot were doing that had Remus calling you stupid?" I question, wriggling myself out of Sirius's grasp, knowing that my face would only get redder if he held me like that longer.

"I didn't say they were stupid," Remus corrects me, rolling his eyes as he crosses his arms over his chest, looking disapprovingly at the others. "I said what they did was stupid."

Around me, Peter, James, and Sirius snicker, clearly thinking about what they had done to get Remus so upset with them.

"Then what did they do?" I ask, exaggerating my annoyance with Remus correcting me.

Remus grins at your annoyance, pushing himself up from his position on the floor to sit up and say, "I think that's private information, Y/n. I'm afraid I'll have to keep that to myself."

I roll my eyes at Remus's secrecy, grumbling, "Dick," under my breath as I cross my arms and lean back against the couch.

In response to my obvious annoyance, Remus throws his head back and laughs; the others join in with their own chuckles. Sirius slings his arms over my shoulders again, pulling my body to press against his side.

"Ah, don't be like that, love," he mutters, her voice full of amusement. "Moony is just playing with you. No need to get all cranky."

Trying to stop the blush from rising to my cheeks and calling me out, I attempt to push myself out of Sirius's hold, mumbling, "Don't treat me like a child, Pads, I have a reputation to uphold."

Sirius just laughs at my resistance and words, his arms around me tightening and pulling me closer. "You're so cute, L/n, you know that?"

My resistance to Sirius's embrace falls as I hide my face against his chest so that none of the Marauders see just how red my cheeks are.

"Fuck you," I respond.

Sirius just laughs again, pressing a kiss to my hairline.

———————————

"L/n!" a voice calls my name as I study at one of the tables hidden in a corner in the library.

I lift my head, immediately rolling my eyes as I spot Sirius - and Madam Pince sending him a nasty glare.

"Keep quiet!" I demand with a hiss, moving over to make room from Sirius at the table. "Are you trying to get me kicked out of here or something?

Sirius plops down in the seat beside me, smirking over at me as I snap at him. He leans back in the chair, an arm thrown over the back of it as he gives me one of his sexy half-grins.

"I only came here for one thing, and one thing only, Y/n," he informs me.

Deciding to humour him (and set aside my book for the meantime) I ask, "And what's that, Black?"

Sirius throws a red piece of cloth on the table; I hadn't realized he was holding anything until now.

"What's that?" I ask, nodding my head towards the material.

"My jersey," Sirius answers, pride evident in his voice as he tilts his grin turns haughty.

One of my eyebrows raise in confusion, I look at Sirius in question. "Okay...?" I reply slowly, hoping he gives me more of an explanation for why he just tossed his Quidditch jersey onto the table in front of us.

"I need you to wear that on Saturday," Sirius informs me, pushing the jersey towards me.

My eyes widen at his request - or demand, however you take it - and an unwanted shade of red invades my cheeks.

"Wh-what? Why?" I ask, cursing myself internally as I stutter to ask him a simple question.

Whenever I have a girl wear my jersey to one of my Quidditch matches, I always play better," Sirius explains, nudging his jersey closer to me again. "I thought of you on the stands in every game I play - which I thank you for, love - and I thought 'Hey, why not get Y/n to wear your jersey?' ya know? I think it would be perfect." He pauses for a moment before adding with a cheeky wink, "And you'll look good while wearing it."

My cheeks heat up further to the point where I feel like I'm practically glowing red.

"Geez, Siri, I don't know," I mumble, looking down at the book I was reading to hide my red cheeks. "Don't you want one of your little girlfriends to wear it instead?" I retort, my voice showing just how obviously jealous I was of every girl that Sirius sleeps with.

If Sirius saw (or heard) my jealous, he didn't show that he did.

"Oh, come on, Y/n/n, I want you to wear it. Pleaseeeee?" he begs, giving me his best puppy dog eyes, which he knows I can't say no to.

I'm torn, genuinely torn. Do I wear Sirius's jersey, make him happy, and have my heart beat furiously against my chest for the whole match because I'm wearing Sirius's jersey? Or do I not wear it, disappoint Sirius, and watch him give it to some other girl and have jealousy pool in my stomach for the whole match?

I know that I'm leaning towards 'wear the jersey' but if I do I'm just feeding into my delusions that Sirius likes me back? Am I the first one he came to? Does he want me to wear it because he wants to see me wear his jersey? Or does he just want a girl to wear it and everyone else he asked said no?

Sighing, I finally answer him, "Okay. I'll wear it."

A large smile breaks across Sirius's face and he throws his arms around me, bringing me into an embrace.

Red blooms across my face, I'm thankful that my face is pressed against his shoulder so he can't see just how red I am just from him hugging me.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he chants, bubbling with joy.

"Yeah, yeah," I reply, trying to downplay it, because truthfully, I don't understand why he's so excited for me to wear his jersey. "It's nothing, Sirius. It's just a jersey."

"But it's my jersey," Sirius replies, releasing me from his grasp. "And you're wearing it."

I roll my eyes playfully at him, unable to hide my grin as I do so. I grab the jersey form the table in front of me, holding it close to my chest as I look over at Sirius and ask, "Anything else you need, Black?"

With a smirk, Sirius answers, "No, I think I got everything. Thank you, love."

"Mhm," I hum, looking back down at my book. My hair falls in front of my face, hiding my red cheeks from Sirius. "See you around then."

"See you around," Sirius echos, standing up from the chair. He playfully ruffles my hair before walking away.

When he disappears around the corner I straighten my hair before I look down at the jersey in my arms, those same mixed emotions swirling in my chest.

———————————

"I don't know why I agreed to do this," I grumble, watching the figures of red and blue fly across the Quittich pitch.

"What are you talking about?" Remus asks at my side, looking away from the players and over to me. "You love Quidditch; you literally watch every game, even in Gryffindor isn't one of the teams competing."

I sigh, looking down at Sirius's jersey that envelopes my body.

"I meant wearing Sirius's jersey," I mumble, glancing over at Remus before looking back to the players.

Remus's attention is still on me, his eyes burn a hole in the side of my head as he stares at me. It kinda feels like he's trying to read my mind, to understand why I was so upset about wearing someone's jersey, especially if it's someone I like.

"And that's a bad things because...?"

"Because, Remus, it-it just makes me feel like-like he likes me," I admit, cringing at my own words. "And I know he doesn't like me, so I'm just feeding my own delusions that he wanted me to wear his jersey because he likes me."

Remus doesn't say anything, which I thank him for because I'm currently so goddamn embarrassed by my own admittance.

I try to refocus back on the game, but everything on my mind weighs down the joy of our eventual win against Ravenclaw.

"I think I'm gonna go back to my dorm," I inform Remus as the crowd stands up to cheer for Gryffindor. "I'm tired."

"Aren't you going to come to the party?" Remus asks me, the victorious smile on his face disappearing as he hears my words. Concern takes over his face, his eyebrows knitted together as he tries to dig deeper and find out if there's something more going on. "We always have a party when we win. Don't you want to celebrate with the rest of us?"

"Not tonight, Rem," I mumble, taking a few steps towards the stairs to get me down the stands. "I'm tired. I just want to go to sleep. Besides, there's parties every damn week in Gryffindor tower, I'll go next time. Tell James and Sirius 'congrats' for me, alright?"

"Yeah," Remus replies, looking down at the huddle of red on the field as they celebrate their win. "I will."

"Thanks, Rem. Have fun at the party."

----------------------

Sirius's POV

Looking up at the crowd that herds towards the team and I to congratulate us on our win, I look around for Y/n. I spot Remus, expecting Y/n to be right behind him, but when I don't see her my eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"Where's Y/n?" I ask him, when he gets close enough that I don't have to shout for him to hear me.

"She went back to her dorm," Remus answers. "Some bullshit excuse about being tired."

James walks over to the two of us, his own confusion showing on his face as hears Remus.

"Do you have any idea why she actually went back?" James questions.

Remus stares at James for a long moment, looking like he was trying to explain with his eyes but after a long moment just shrugs.

"I'm sure she'll be fine tomorrow morning," he says. "Let's just go enjoy the party, yeah?"

"Yeah, okay," I mutters, looking down at my feet in disappointment.

Usually after every game, whether we won or lost, Y/n would greet me with a smile and hug, and everything felt wrong without it.

part II up now!