#mrsaluado

[silencesscreams]

"is there any chance i can fix this?" where james and reader are best friends since birth but he begins to pull away and spend less time with her in favor of the boys, so she just cuts him out of her life and after a while he doesn't know how to deal with it anymore. hiiiii

sad beautiful tragic

james potter x fem reader (angst)

a/n: sorry about any grammar mistakes, english isn’t my first language (also i’m pretty bad at writing angst but i tried my best) also immediately thought of the title because of the taylor swift song, so hope you don’t mind the association. also the first kiss part came to my mind because of a tiktok i saw a few weeks ago but i don’t really remember who’s it was to credit them

warnings: friendship distancing, kissing, fighting, cursing, a bit short (sorry), happy ending

“i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry, honey, please. is there any chance i can fix this? just tell me, please”

you knew james potter and he knew you. knowing meaning comprehending each other, meaning that you stood by each others side for as long as you can remember.

he was your first friend. he was your neighbor and you both grew up together, it was expected that you both would know each other better than anyone.

sure, it felt different when you both started hogwarts and suddenly he had new friends, but so did you. you spent the time you could together, always saving a bit of your days for each other.

during the sixth to seventh year summer vacation, he had spent the whole summer with you, you both would hang out all the time.

until he kissed you.

it was the last day of summer and you both had spent the evening in his room. you were talking about a book you had been reading recently and he listened quietly, like it was the most interesting thing he had ever heard of. until you paused for a brief moment and he moved closer to you. you were sat on the floor with him, the carpet tickling your legs as you played with the fluffy yarn under you.

“honey” he said, you looked at him, doe eyed waiting for him to continue. “a phrase. two words, six letters, two vowels. guess.” he said lowly whilst looking at your lips. your mind went blank.

one vowel for each word. you still didn’t get it.

“what are the vowels?” you whisper back, he smiles.

“i and e” he answers, not taking his eyes from off of you for a second. you knew.

“kiss me?” and so he did. his lips met yours abruptly, his hands grabbed your hips and yours went straight to the back of his neck. it completely changed the way you ever saw him, hell, it completely changed your expectations to a kiss. it was better than anything you’d ever experienced and you loved it.

when you got back to school, it seemed like he didn’t do that, actually, it seemed like he didn’t even talk to you the whole summer.

sure, he did casually say hello in the halls and you might’ve shared one or two conversations, but what the hell? he kisses you like that and expects you to just forget about it? that was the most fucked up thing anyone could’ve done. as the semester went on, your mind was absolutely torturing you over that kiss.

it made you overthink every single thing you ever did around him. but maybe he didn't have time, maybe he was really busy with his studies and quidditch, right? that was probably it.

he saw you every once in a while, said an awkward hi or whatever that thing signaling head thing he did was.

the crush you had developed for him didn’t help at all. it made you crave his presence in your life, even now that you hated him more than you ever thought you possibly could. you missed his pet names for you, ‘honey’ and ‘sweetheart’ sounded so amazing coming out of his mouth.

but from the moment he started to ignore you, you decided he was absolutely done. he was never going to see a smile coming from you ever again, he was never going to get another hello, nothing. james potter didn’t deserve a single thing from you.

your friends agreed. they thought he was a piece of shit and said you should’ve cut him off a long time before.

life went on without him, you barely thought about him. your studies were going well, everything was great.

christmas break came up and when you saw james at the train station, you were pissed. you knew he was going to be there for christmas dinner, he was always invited alongside with his family. you didn’t know how he was going to act then, was he going to pretend it never happened?

when you got home, your mother instantly started asking you what you wanted for dinner and you were glad to be home, you just hated that he was in the house next to yours.

a few nights after you both got home, you were invited for a date by steven, who worked at a bookstore near the city park. you said yes, he took you to see a shitty movie and tried to kiss you after dropping you off at your front porch. you dodged it and gave him a good night kiss on the cheek. james saw it all.

once the date left, you heard him yelling from his porch:

“who’s that?” you ignored him and went inside, sure, you weren’t going to see steven again but james didn’t deserve to know that.

on christmas day you went to the potter’s for dinner, your parents insisted for you to go, even though you tried to fake being sick. sirius was there too, you politely greeted all of them them and didn’t bother to answer james’ “hey”.

when you sad at the side of the living room table james sat next to you, even though that wasn’t his usual seat. you played with your dress awkwardly and ate less, being there was making you so irritated you lost your appetite.

after taking a bite from your desert, you thanked euphemia for the food and told your parents you were feeling a bit sick and that you were heading home, telling them to enjoy the rest of their night.

as you were opening the door to head out, you heard footsteps behind you. you knew james was there and you had no interest to talk with him.

“don’t” you simply stated, stepping out and shutting the door lightly on him, he followed you during the small walk between both your houses.

“hey!” he shouted, trying to get your attention. you were about to shut the door to your house on his face, but he held it with his foot, going into your house.

he pulled you by your wrist but you tugged it away from him.

“don’t touch me!” you shouted at him, staring into his eyes for the first time that night.

“now you can talk to me, huh? ‘the fucks up with you?!” he shouts back, brows furrowed. you couldn’t believe him, what a fucking nerve he had.

“whats up with YOU?!” you step closer to him, throwing your keys on the coffee table in the middle of the living room. “you’ve ignored me for the whole semester and now you wanna talk?” he had never seen you like this. you had never been this angry at anyone or anything around him.

“i’m sorry?” he had no reaction, he knew he was wrong, he just couldn’t deal with it. with anything. he didn’t know what to do after he kissed you, he couldn’t handle any of it. he knew that if he spent more time around you he would fall harder, he couldn’t risk it.

“i’m sorry! now that you don’t have anyone else near for you to talk to i’m worthy of your attention? i’m so lucky, right?!” your eyes started to tear up, but you held it in, he was not getting to see you cry.

“honey, i’m sorry i didn’t talk much with you these past few months, but i tried to speak with you tonight and you didn’t even bother to answer me!” he ran his hand through his hair, looking at you as you sat down on the couch, staring at your hands.

“you didnt even look at me. the entire fucking night. one lousy ‘hey’ is not trying to do anything” he handed you a piece of paper, it was crumpled up in his jeans’ pocket. you knew he was bad with words, but the paper was written front and back. what was he even trying to do? did he think a letter was enough to fix the damage he had done?

“really? you’re a little too late for this, don’t you think?” you said, looking at him angrily.

“fine, don’t read it then. just keep it, okay?” he knew you were about to cry. it was the worst feeling he had ever felt.

“you don’t get to do this to me, james” you hold back tears once you say it.

“i know, honey, i know” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, cupping your face as you try to not melt because of his touch. he kisses you, but this time you pull away.

“no. don’t do this to me” you say, a single tear streaming down your face, he wipes it off but more tears just keep coming

“im sorry, im so sorry for everything i did and-“ you interrupt him.

“could you just try to listen?!” you shout, pulling away from his touch again. “what makes you think that i want this? after all you did, better, all that you didn’t do?! you kiss me and expect me to forget about it? expect me to be okay with you ignoring me all the time just because you kissed me again? i can’t be okay with any of this unless you actually explain to me what happened. i really try to understand you, but all of this doesn’t help!”

“i love you” he says “i have loved you all my life and i didn’t know, after i kissed you it all hit me and i couldn’t trust myself around you anymore, i didn’t want to hurt you so i pulled away, i just didn’t know it would hurt you more like that. i’m sorry, but im here now and i want to show you how much I do love you” he pauses and sits next to you on the couch.

“i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry, honey, please. is there any chance i can fix this? just tell me, please” he wipes the tears from off your face again. you knew he meant it, you just didn’t know how to trust him again.

“i don’t know” you whisper, looking into his eyes, you had never seen him look this sad. you wanted to trust him, you really did, but how could you? how could you know he wasn’t going to pull something like that again?

you couldn’t be sure of anything, you could only hope for the best and be careful. so you gave it a shot.

“come here” you say lowly, pulling him in for a hug. he buried his face in the crook of your neck and gave you small kisses.

“i’m so sorry, baby” he whispered.

“i know” you whisper back, he looks at you and gives you quick kisses all over your face. you can’t help but smile.

it was going to take a while for you to trust him again, but you knew you could.

#james potter x reader #james potter fic #james potter #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter angst #james potter oneshot #james potter imagine #james potter fanfiction #mrsaluado #lila writes #silencesscreams

[dramaticals]

team starkid !

team starkid: if you could write your own musical, what genre would it be?

there's gotta be some romance in it because i love that shit and i'm so torn in wanting it to be campy, fun, and lighthearted but also i want there to be a nice ballad to cry to so like maybe a tragi-comedy type thing. also if we're talking genre as in music genre, pop / punk rock! but i also can't get enough of hadestown and so i wouldn't be opposed to indie folk / blues / jazz either.

#message #mrsaluado #thank you for sending things in!

[rafeandonlyrafe]

okay he doesn't come crawling back but what if i run him over w my car

happy ending right there

i support this!

#and he would deserve it 100% #answered #mrsaluado

[ma1dita]

bedtime stories

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

words: bitch this was supposed to be a blurb. 2.4k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where night shift with him runs late, but you don't mind at all. You won’t admit a lot of things to Luke Castellan, but perhaps he knows something you don’t. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

warnings: none, banter and fluff on a night shift

a/n: Introducing luke castellan x trouble!reader… this is just gonna be ongoing blurbs and one shots of an idea in my head (and my latest hyperfixation) reader is essentially reformed unhinged bitch now camp mom and it’s enemies to friends to lovers. Working through reading the pjo series hehe

(posted 1/16/24, beta’ed by the lovely @ttulipwritezz @mrsaluado & @lixzey thank you bunches)

—

Dragging your feet across the dirt of the forest floor, you sigh to yourself in the quiet night air. It’s gonna be another long night and with the beep on your digital watch, you blearily peer at the time and sigh. Almost 11. Swaying slightly, you whistle a familiar tune as your nimble hands straighten out the deck chairs near the firepit, pick up trash to toss into the receptacle, and turn off the lights in the dining hall. All on the way to check Cabin 7, mind you, and the Apollo kids will undoubtedly loop you into singing a song with them before you shut the lights off and close the curtains.

Gods, your dad is definitely gonna hear about this in the morning.

It’s not like Mr. D ever really cares, or listens, more focused on droning on about missing his wife and playing pinochle even when you rattle off his…your to-do list for the week to keep Camp Half-Blood running and the younger demigods in mostly one piece. Honestly, he should be grateful he has you, and even if he is, he’ll never let you hear it. At least you’re Chiron’s favorite.

A shadow passes your field of view, and before you can rub at your sleepy eyes, strong hands pin you to the side of a tree on the dirt path you were supposed to take across camp.

Sorry, let’s correct that—you’re one of Chiron’s favorites. The other all-star camper stares at you like you’re a three-headed dog under the beam of his flashlight.

“Just me, Castellan,” you grumble, a bit winded as you blink harshly at the bright light. “Still doing checks.”

“You’re losing your touch. You making a habit of going to bed late?” Luke smirks, and it’s actually annoying how he always looks like he knows something you don’t.

“You always pin campers to trees?”

“Just the pretty ones.” His smirk turns into a sly grin that makes you roll your eyes.

“Okay loser, I’ve got cabins to check,” you drone as you push off from the tree. “6 cut into my time after staying there longer than I had to. The little ones kept asking these otherworldly philosophical questions and Annabeth just laughed at me while I tried to not pluck my eyelashes out one by one.”

Your clipboard taps lightly against your hip despite the aggression in your voice and Luke laughs much like his little sister, a burst of sunlight overflowing into the dreary and mundane. Your lips quirk upward before you can stop and remind yourself of who you’re talking to. The tall boy reaches behind him to scratch the nape of his neck and sighs, sucking at his teeth.

“You’re always doing the most, huh?”

“Who else is going to, my dad? He’s probably already out like a light.” Once, you found your dad asleep at his desk after dinner, snoring loudly instead of keeping watch. You started taking more night shifts after that.

“Well, no. You know I’m here to help you, even if you’ll never admit it.” Luke extends a hand to you so it’s easier to navigate the step back onto the dirt-trodden path, but there’s no fun in that, so you hop around him and start walking away. The sound of his footsteps fall and match yours as he follows you, both in tandem like the sound of a steady heartbeat.

“The day you catch me admitting anything about you is the day the Underworld freezes over. You should know that by now.”

“Woooooow, so I don’t get a thank you for singing the Apollo kids to sleep? You should’ve seen the look on their faces when I walked in and not you. They ended the song pretty quickly after I opened my mouth to croak out a chorus,” he says, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth and nudging your side as you both laugh.

He’s a terrible singer, to be honest. Not even the Fates would’ve expected that from someone who otherwise seems like a perfect boy. Sometimes you wonder what he’s done in a past life to have it so easy–to look like he’s been chiseled by Michelangelo, have the athletic prowess of ten Spartan soldiers, and the heart of a hero only legends could get right. He’s probably the closest thing to an actual hero here at camp. You often find yourself looking at him in hopes of finding a crack in the porcelain of his perfection, but any fault of his seems to just build up his endurance in his quest for glory.

Maybe that’s why your dad doesn’t like him, his aspirations for something greater than the camp that’s kept you safe all these years, though the multiple complaints and headaches the both of you have given him as squabbling teenagers must’ve added onto that. Sometimes, though, the way he helps ease your load prods a funny feeling you do your best not to acknowledge in your stomach. Luke walks ahead shining the flashlight onto the dark path so you both don’t trip. It’s there now, at the sight of him offering an arm for you to latch onto to hop over fallen branches.

Mental note: tell the satyrs to move that in the morning.

As you hurdle over the brambles, you let go immediately after you steady your feet, moving his hand that’s holding the flashlight back towards the path with no other words. You are your father’s daughter after all, and he knows this—stubborn and your name have the same face.

Moving further towards your destination, the light reveals a teenage couple entangled within each other’s arms at the base of a tree out there for everyone to see in the moonlight.

“Jeez, guys, alright— pack it up, wrap it up! Could’ve at least found somewhere private… It’s curfew already, if I see you two again it’s a citation.”

The boy blushes and mumbles an apology to you, scurrying back to cabin 7, and you raise an eyebrow at a sheepish son of Hermes who swears they were all in their beds when he was singing to them.

“I don’t wanna go back to my cabin, all the boys are gross…” the girl whines, cheeks flushed from embarrassment as she flutters her eyelashes at you and Luke. You sigh. What has the world come to that young demigods are entrusted to the care of two people who barely consider themselves adults?

“Well, if you’re still in 11 with this one,” you simper, blatantly pointing at Luke, “I can’t blame you. He’s gross. Come by mine tomorrow and I’ll get you privacy curtains, okay? Trust me Yvonne, you don’t think boys are all that gross if you like kissing them.”

She nods, smiling charmingly at the two of you, before brushing past Luke and winking, “See you inside!”

Your head swivels to look at Luke with a coy expression, “There’s no way she’s not an Aphrodite.”

Luke huffs as he clicks his flashlight on and off. His hands are always fidgeting, always searching for something to do. He’s more like his dad than he thinks, carrying the quieter traits of quick fingers and more obvious ones like his constant search for amusement. Talking to you consistently satiates that itch.

“Aphrodite isn’t the only god that attracts attractive people, you know.”

“Oh? Do tell, because if she’s one of you, your cabin’s gonna be extra trouble,” your mouth curves into a smile, and he thinks he likes it more when you’re trying to be mean to him like this because the back and forth between you two is a comfort Luke cherishes. The words have lost their bite over the years, and there are no more cuts and bruises besides an occasional wounded ego, but it’s still entertaining, to say the least. He can’t imagine a day without hearing the teasing lilt of your voice, always easy to prod at and always wanting to have the last word.

“My dad is the god of thieves and messengers. We’re fast, smart, charming, and also good-looking. Do the math.”

“Also apparently the ones with the biggest egos, but okay.” There it is. He shoves you and you trip over your own feet falling fast.

“Hey! Jerk.”

“Definitely a daughter of Dionysus, crazy as always, and clumsy too.” Luke’s nose crinkles at the sight of your crumpled frame.

“Your hand is like the size of my face, what the fuck was I supposed to do with that?”

A fleeting thought in the back of your mind reasons that maybe violence is the answer, but he’s still not finished making fun of you even after he helps you up.

“And vulgar! What a shocker.”

“Ugh. You better hope your dad stops populating because if there’s any more that come here and act like you? I’m quitting.”

Luke watches you gaze at the heavens, probably looking for a fuck to give and he snickers at how easily you give in nowadays. Maybe he’s the one losing his touch—usually you’d put up more of a fight to argue.

“You wouldn’t. You love this job. Camp. S’why you’re not as fun anymore, trouble.”

A noise of agreement leaves you as you glare at him and the stupid nickname back from when you used to wreak havoc just because you could, a direct juxtaposition to the honorary position you hold today. Finally following him up the front steps of Cabin 11, Luke opens the door and beckons you in, pushing at your hip with his knuckles.

Checking this place last has become a habit with Luke helping you out, and all the kids—Hermes’, minor gods’, and unclaimed, love it when you come to stop by before lights out. They especially loved the later bedtime, but hugs and cool stories from you were a close second.

“Everyone good and ready for bed in here? Sorry it took so long guys,” you say, visually scanning the perimeter and matching faces to bunks, seeing them all settled beneath their sheets, all except for one Luke Castellan. He’s still leaning against the doorframe, breath grazing your shoulder as he hands you a copy of his log from the other cabins he kindly relieved you from.

“What, no bedtime story this time?” He says through hooded eyes, and though he won’t admit it, he adores the sound of your voice. Luke does anything he can to get your attention to hear it more. It almost has a calming effect on him, and maybe it’s the fact that your dad can cause and cure madness, anxiety, and all alike, so something in him believes you do the same, powers or not. One look from him has you sputtering out snarky remarks; different strategies, same results—works every time.

“Castellan…” He grins at the look on your face, and tiny voices pop up from around the cabin, all asking for a bedtime story. Chris even starts a chant from his top bunk, making you want to hurl your clipboard at his head. Hypnos is calling your name at this point, and you’d do anything to crawl into your own safe haven in Cabin 12, but your heartstrings pull at the sight of the little ones pouting, hoping for you to tuck them in with a blanket of comforting words and stories of something more than what these walls meagerly provide. Camp Half-Blood only keeps them safe for so long, and not a lot of them make it out of here alive. You and Luke both know that being two of the oldest at camp, and his smug expression as he settles into his bed is confirmation that you’re about to give in.

“Fine. One quick story, and then everyone goes to sleep okay? Who wants to sit on the floor with me?”

You take your place sitting on the ground next to the foot of Luke’s bunk as he lays upside down on the twin-sized mattress, peering at you through one open eye as the younger children, mostly the unclaimed ones—drag their blankets and form a circle in the middle of the room, waiting patiently for you to start enchanting them with something to occupy their tired minds. Acting— that’s the gift your father had to give you; this time you decide to tell the story of Atalanta and the golden apples, how she ran from love and it still found her in the end, and how some stories can have good endings, despite what’s often found in Greek legend. Multiple tired eyes droop closed as you finish the story and carry the ones who’ve fallen into Hypnos’ embrace back into their bunks, tucking them in with kisses on their foreheads and it leaves you with a warm feeling that will help you brave the chill on your walk back.

Admittedly, this next part is your favorite part on nights like these. The overflowing cabin of rowdy pranksters and babbling children is as quiet as the secret you hold close to your heart, tiptoeing back towards Luke’s space and draping his blanket over his muscular frame, exhausted from another day of trying to achieve greatness. Your hand brushes a dark curl away from his forehead, fingertips ghosting his pale skin like a kiss you’d never have the guts to give. With everything you have in you, you summon thoughts of serenity and peace, hoping whatever keeps him up at night lets him rest for even a few hours. You don’t pray often, finding yourself spiting your father instead of honoring him on most days, but in the dim light of Cabin 11, you find yourself making time to do so for a pain in your ass called Luke Castellan.

Perhaps he knows something you don’t after all, the crease in his forehead relaxing as you pull your fingertips away.

“Sweet dreams, angelface.”

Mental note: Put his ass to work tomorrow for falling asleep halfway through the story.

It’ll only give him another excuse to ask you to tell it again a few nights later. You find yourself not minding that, a sliver of a smile pulling at your face as you walk towards the door and shut the lights off, a sleeping son of Hermes illuminated by the gentle shine of the moon.

You’d never admit that, though.

—

“you steady me and stir me

all at once.”

-Tanya Wright

ask to be added to luke/general taglist!

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

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

[hotchfiles]

lover to lover.

⋅☆⋅ mrsaluado's first xmas event ⋅☆⋅ masterlist

pairing: james x fem!reader.

summary: it's your first gift exchange as a couple and you are both dangerously lovesick.

content warnings: JUST FLUFF. I SWEAR.

word count: 1,4k

you felt silly, you felt like your gift was silly and felt even sillier for worrying so much about it your palms were sweaty even though it was very late at night and the house was surrounded by the whiteness of snow. this was your first christmas as james' girlfriend and even though you had been to his home before, that was the first time you would be staying the night as well.

to top that kind of pressure, it was the first year your gift to james would actually matter, you couldn't just give him a sweater, or a book or a coupon for free of charge homework help, it had to be good, it had to be meaningful.

and it was hard to do that for someone who had everything. he was the golden boy, not only were his parents generational wealth loaded, they were caring, loving and were always making sure he and his friends had everything they could ever need. how could anything you try to give him compare to that?

nonetheless, you tried your best, and now the party was over, the other three marauders black out drunk in sirius' room from spiked eggnogg mr. fleamont pretended not to see them drink and you on james' bed waiting for him to come back after helping them out.

his smile brightened up the whole room, even though the lights were on and the warmth in his eyes made you forget about any worries that surrounded your mind while he was gone. you stretched your arms to pull him in a hug after he closed the door, though he ignored completely, simply laying on top of you with all of his weight, forcing you to lay down as well. "honeyyyy, i'm so tired." he whined, his cheek touching yours as he spoke.

one of your hands went to his arm, while the other played with his hair, he was such a baby when he wanted to, but you were lovesick, dangerously lovesick, so it was endearing to you. "no gifts today, then?" that made him get up in a jump, excitement filling him with the energy he had lost to sleepiness.

"nooooo, not what i meant." he pouted, batting his beautiful eyelashes at you, you laughed, knowing that would be the reaction, he had been extremely curious by your present from the time you showed up engulfed in green flames inside his family's fireplace, a big heavy something, perfectly wrapped, to jamie written in your handwriting in a heart shaped note that he knew he would keep safe inside his wallet to the rest of his days.

you got the gift from his nightstand and handed it to him, the anxiety coming back again as you started overexplaining yourself to him, "wanted to make something special, but you have so much stuff i... didn't know what... so i asked your mum to help me with this. i know it's like, nothing super unique but... i don't know." you fumbled completely over your words and he looked so deep into your eyes you knew he was able to read your whole entire soul without even trying at all.

"even a rock you find on a road and decides it reminds you of me would be special." everything you do, everything you touch is special, is what he actually wants to say, but he refrains from it, carefully taking out the tape holding the wrapping paper together, refusing to rip it apart. his eyes sparkled when he saw the leather cover, his name golden along with his gryffindor quidditch number.

he opens it, not sure what would be inside, the first page had your handwriting again, written in red and filled with doodle hearts: my quidditch lover boy, know that wherever you play, i will always be your biggest cheerleader.

the rest was pictures, from the first one his mum took of him with a broom when he was still barely a person, his little arms holding tight to his dad. the first time he flew alone to show them. the letter he sent when he made the gryffindor team, his first captain's armband, tickets from matches he went with his father. the last picture was from his last victory, you both kissing with the biggest smiles while sirius covered you both with red paint.

it was a good thing he never pretended to be one of those emotionless guys, because his nose was red, his eyes watering as you heard him sniffing. "this... honey, this is the most beautiful thing." his fingers passed over the picture, with such care it seemed he was afraid to ruin it, he pulled you into a hug and then lifted your chin to face him, his lips touching yours like you were a treasure he needed to protect. you felt the saltiness of his tears and you couldn't help but laugh, it was just too adorable.

james let go of you, but not before kissing your whole face. he found a spot on his desk for your present, where it would be the first thing anyone spotted when looking around his room, and then took a small box and a piece of parchment from the first drawer of his nightstand. "m'feeling a tad inadequate now, mine isn't as thoughtful but... ms. euphemia did help me with it too." you laughed at the way he talked of his mum, "i wanted to give you some sort of jewelry, but everything i chose was simply grim, james darling." he gestured air quotes while trying to get his mother's tone across.

he handed you the velvet box, parchment still in hand as he waited for you to open, you were still stunned by the information he wanted to give you jewelry, you felt like your heart and your stomach were dancing and twirling around inside of you as how official that sounded. opening the box you find a beautiful, seemingly antique, silver ring, it had a red gem on top in the form of a triangle. you were completely speechless as you touched it lightly.

"m'dad proposed with that ring." your eyes widened at that, positive you were gonna pass out at any moment. "it's very old, and it's been in our family for generations, if you look closely you can see a symbol, the triangle one is for my invisibility cloak."

"james, this is beautiful, but... i can't accept this, it's a family heirloom i... it belongs to your family." you couldn't even look at him, you were out of breath, out of words, out of ways to react.

"yeah, that's sorta it. you're part of my family now." he takes the ring out of the box and slides it on your right index finger, so not to pressure you, so you knew it was a present, a promise of commitment, but not an obligation or a way to imprison you to him. "and my mum kept this for years, i had no idea, she says it's adorable, so..." james hands you the parchment finally, and you open it to see the date on top, stating it was a letter from two years before.

a letter he sent to his mum, from hogwarts, talking about you.

he went on and on talking about sometimes he felt like his heart was gonna jump out of his chest when you were around and that wasn't normal, that didn't happen before. and how he could smell your perfume before even seeing you had got into the room.

he was fifteen and down bad for his best friend and was so confused he asked his mum for advice. it was indeed the most adorable thing. and euphemia was so sure something would come out of it she kept the letter. you had to put it down on his bed so you wouldn't wet it with your tears. "you're such a sap oh my god." you said in a mocking tone even though you were the one crying like an absolute baby.

"enjoy it now, next year you're getting a simply grim necklace and a honeydukes discount coupon." james replied matter-of-factly, but his grin and his eyes showed how glad he was that you had enjoyed the gifts that much, "i love you too much, you're gonna wake up one day and m'gonna have inflated and exploded by how much." you couldn't even reply to that with anything other than a loud laugh, your hands quickly going over your mouth when you remembered how late it was.

you felt his weight over you again, but this time before he could be completely over you using you as a mattress, he slides beside you, pulling you closer to him, and closing his eyes. "merry christmas, lover boy." is the last thing you say before falling asleep in his embrace.

#lari writes xmas #lari writes sometimes #marauders x reader #james x reader #james x you #james x y/n #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter imagine #james potter scenario

[sp1rit-realm]

༻¨*:· 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 ·:*¨༺

༻¨*:· request ·:*¨༺ 9. "i thought you liked me." w/ remus you're insane for this one

༻¨*:· notes ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 remus being very mean 𖦹 why did i do this? idk 𖦹 remus being an asshole 𖦹 guys... seriously. why did i do this? 𖦹 what the fuck 𖦹 idk how to write endings

༻¨*:· word count ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 464

You and Remus have a long history. You became friends in first year and then stopped being friends in third year because he was hiding secrets from you. Then, you made up because he apologized and explained what was happening. Granted, you already knew he was a werewolf; you were just waiting for him to tell you. Now, you're in your seventh year, and you've been flirting to the point that James has been sick over it. Multiple times. 

"You look nice," You smile as he walks into the great hall."

"I just woke up, darling. Nothing special," He laughs.

"You still look nice."

He blushes so soft you can't see it.

"Merlin!" You shout, hand on your rapidly beating heart, "Why would you do that?"

Remus chuckles, "Because you're funny when you're scared."

"Oh, you find such amusement in my misery, don't you?"

"You know I love you," He smiles.

Your heart beats faster than before.

"Stop flirting!" Sirius calls; Remus rolls his eyes while heat rises to your face.

"We've got somewhere to be, mate!" James says, and Peter chimes in with a small, squeaky, "Please?"

Remus jogs up to catch his friends, but he turns around and smiles his stupid, breathtaking smile.

You slowly feel him slipping away. He spends less time with you and doesn't sit next to you in the classes he doesn't share with his friends. 

"Remus!" You call out, walking faster to catch up with his long strides. He looks back and, upon seeing who was calling him, turns back around and keeps walking.

He doesn't really talk to you anymore; you give him the benefit of the doubt. It's close to the full moon, but you're working on something for him. Walking up to him, you tap on his shoulder, "Remus, I have a surprise," You're beaming, holding out a vile.

"What's this?" He takes the potion between his fingers, inspecting it in the light.

"Wolfsbane," You smile.

He licks his lips, "Why?"

You sharply inhale, "Cos... you're my friend."

He shrugs, "Thanks." And, with that, he's gone.

You feel frigid. Remus is suddenly gone from your life again—he was the only thing keeping you warm. He's been looking away when you make eye contact, and he hasn't talked to you once.

One day, you corner him, scolding, "Remus, what are you doing?! Why are you ruining us again?" Your face drops, "Why did you leave?"

He swallows, "Sorry."

You stare at him, "Sorry? That's all you have to say? After everything, that's it?"

His mouth opens, only to close again.

"You know..." You sharply inhale, "I thought you liked me. For so long, I thought I had a chance. Thank you for making it clear I don't."

"You're welcome."

He walks away—you never speak again.

sorry🤗

mutuals: @cannibalizedyke @ttulipwritezz @mrsaluado @starsval @starzqzi @violetteshoneybee @ay0nha @remuslovebot @inkluvs @bullshit-bulltrue @prongsio @imabee-oralizard @faerieroyal @zvdvdlvr @vampieteeth @turvi @maddipoof @ell0ra-br3kk3r @doyouknowwhoyouare13 @bruisedboys

#remus lupin #sp1rit realm #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin and you #remus lupin angst #remus lupin x reader angst

[ervotica]

rafelogy -> ervotica

sorry for the url change again besties. i simply love too many characters to stick to a single fandom url

tagging some mutuals (dw I'll never stop writing 4 rafey); @rafesmuse @rafetopia @sociorafe @rafeandonlyrafe @rafescokenostril @rvfecamerons @rafesveryrealgf @rafesthroatbaby @wife-of-all-dilfs @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @chrrymunson @cinnamoncunt @lyndys @lovetrt @kissitbttr @ajokeformur-ray @anglbby444 @andersonlore @amourrs @drudyslut @drudyslut @drewstarkeyslut @taintedcigs @urfavcameron @inkluvs @oncasette @oceandriveab @pxgeturner @shellxrls @venuslore @vampieteeth @vermithorn @targaryenvampireslayer @gxtitobxby @gplol @ghostlyfleur @jjsmarijuana @morwap @moremaybank @mrsaluado

[wisteria-cherry]

beautiful stranger

modern au! young!sirius black x reader

(i got the prompt from @mrsaluado, thank you so much lovely!! they’re a fantastic writer so please go check them out :)) def recommend listening to beautiful stranger by laufey whilst reading!)

(it’s a very very quick drabble and it is unedited so please keep that in mind haha, probably not my best work ^^”)

beautiful stranger, sitting right there

looked up at me with my dark curly hair

sirius black liked mornings. he didn’t love them. he didn’t love getting up early and dragging himself out of bed. but he liked them. this morning, sirius has found his bike out of commission, and was reduced to public transport. but sirius didn’t mind. it was peaceful; it was nice to sit on a train as the world was still waking up and people were still quiet, immersed in their own world. sirius reckoned they felt the same sort of peace he did.

so there he was, sirius black, sitting on the train, reading the newspaper. skimming it, really. glancing at headlines, seeing if there were any particular articles that caught his eye. once one did, he folded the newspaper in half, reading closely, glancing at the picture every so often to help him visualize the story better.

and then he noticed you.

he glanced up, and there was someone looking at him, looking at his dark, curly hair with beautiful eyes that could only be described as lovestruck. before sirius could do anything about it, the person looked away; quickly, shyly. sirius ducked his head back into the newspaper, but his focus wasn’t on the article anymore. he could feel the person across from him stealing glances at him, once, twice more. sirius smiled, and he stole a glance himself, stole one right back from the person across from him; he watched discreetly as his admirer’s cheeks flushed a pink that was barely visible, and watched two nervous hands fidget with each other, picking nails, scratching the back of the hand.

sirius was used to people looking at him. sirius knew he was hot— he was tall, he had a nice figure, he had a sharp jaw and gray eyes with the piercing paleness that society seemed to adore so much. but that’s not how this person looked at him. this person looked at him like he was ethereal. otherworldly. beautiful.

and so were you.

he wanted to break down, right then and there, from the mere gaze of a stranger whose eyes were so achingly filled with emotion that he wanted to look away.

sirius’s smile didn’t once leave his lips, not even when he felt the train slow down and he swayed ever so slightly at the feeling of the train coming to a stop. he watched from behind the newspaper and the person stood up. sirius lay the newspaper on his lap, and his eyes met the person’s again.

please, pleaded two sets of eyes. please, tell me your name.

but one set of eyes stayed on the train, and another one got off, and no pairs of lips spoke a word. dark, curly hair disappeared behind the newspaper, and a lovesick beauty left through the doors.

a love that came and left with the train

my beautiful stranger

#marauders oneshot #marauders drabble #harry potter marauders #marauders era #young sirius black #young sirius x reader #sirius black x reader #modern au #modern marauders #marauders modern au #laufey #beautiful stranger

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

hi! how are you doing? I was wondering if u had any favourite accounts or writes on tumblr that you recommend. i haven’t been able to find a lot writers or cool accounts myself. (except yours of course, I love your account)

hii lovely!! im doing well thank you! how are you?? 💓💓

unfortunately I don’t get to read as much as I like, I dedicate more of my free time to writing rather than reading so im not really the best person to ask for this. I do have a few but it depends what you’re into/ who you read for as I don’t typically read the characters I write for

some mutuals: (sadly I don’t get much chance to read their stuff anymore. also hope you don’t mind me tagging!!)

@kissitbttr

@madschiavelique

@chvoswxtch

@yarrystyleeza

@peterman-spideyparker

@mrsaluado

@gh0stsp1d3r

@xbellaxcarolinax

(I had loads more but I accidentally deleted this and now I can’t remember lol. sorry if I missed some, I’ll add to this when I remember more)

ones I follow: (im too scared to tag them, so I’ll pussy out😭)

@/luveline

@/honeypiehotchner

@/ghosts-cryphera

@/murdrdocs

@/lundenloves

@/rowan

@/stargirlrchive

@/starstruckmiraclekitty

typically i read ones I see on my dash/ ones that have been reblogged by non-writer mutuals so I don’t follow a whole heap <33

all are welcome to add to the list💌

#ask #abbiesrighttoe #fic recs

[gh0ul-fr1end]

lari after i said hotch would like being called daddy in bed

@mrsaluado

#aaron hotchner #hotch #aaron hotch hotchner

[silencesscreams]

love is never logical

james potter x reader (angst)

summary: you have been james’ girlfriend for more than a year, his close relationship with his friend lily has always bothered you because he would always pick her instead of you. once you find out they almost dated when they were younger, things change.

100% inspired by logical - olivia rodrigo, the beginning of the fight was inspired by the all too well short film (it was also lari’s idea because she’s a genius)

warnings: muggle au, drinking, swearing, jealousy, breaking up, fighting, shouting, mentions of younger jily, petnames (babe, love, darling), use of y/n once, mention of sex, kind of short, sad ending

special thanks to @mrsaluado for helping me and giving me ideas for this one!!!!! you’re incredible, lari!!!!

when you first started dating james, the first friend he introduced you to was lily. he said she was one of his best friends and that she was incredibly important for him. it was almost as if he said: don’t fuck it up with her. afterwards he said she absolutely loved you, it made you feel great about yourself, but a part of you wondered what would happen if she didn’t.

there were times when you’d ask if he wanted to hang out or do something different during the weekend. most times you were too late, and he was already doing something with lily, but you could come if you wanted to. you always did. you wanted to be with your boyfriend, it shouldn’t matter that his best friend was always around, right?

you even asked him once or twice if he ever had anything with lily, which he defensively denied every single time. most of your friends saw it as a red flag, but what could you do? you had never loved anyone like you loved james potter.

until it all fell apart.

you both had been together for a year. you were always invited to his reunions with his friends, so when he told you he was hosting a small one at his place, you were excited to go. you helped him get the house ready. you even bought appetizers.

so when his friends showed up, you tried talking to most of them, but when you got to sirius, you both ended up talking a lot.

you both had been chatting for about half an hour when he asked:

“where’s that boyfriend of yours anyway?” he took a sip from the cheap wine remus had brought.

“with lily, i think.” you say, looking down at your cup.

“really? doesn’t it bother you?” he asked innocently, like you already knew.

“no, i mean, why would it?”

“well, i’d be stressed knowing remus was so close with someone he almost dated like two years back” he casually stated. your heart could’ve just fallen to your feet then, he never told you that. sirius quickly realized he’d fucked up because of how quiet you suddenly were. “you didn’t know?” he questioned, his brows furrowed and his voice more caring now.

“oh, i did, don’t worry.” you lied, your voice quiet.

god, you felt so stupid. you had asked so many times, and he lied, he always said no.

you never thought james could hurt you like that, until he did.

“that reminds me, i have to talk to james about what time we’re putting out the dessert. i’ll be back soon.” you didn’t have to talk to him about anything. you knew that you’d bring out the dessert at 10:30. you just wanted to know what they were talking about.

“hi, babe.” he greeted you, pressing a kiss on your cheek as you sat next to him. “my two girls at the same table, how lucky am i?” he joked, but you didn’t laugh. since when was lily his girl? “sorry, that was badly phrased.” he apologized to you, chuckling and going back to lily, not bothering to insert you in the conversation.

you didn’t really mind staying quiet, he usually did that. they talked for about 10 minutes, during that time stayed quiet and didn’t even touch him, you listened to their conversation, smiling every single time she looked at you.

the night ended for you when he didn’t hold your hand. as he excitedly laughed and talked to her, you tried to interlace his fingers with yours, which he did, giving your hand a quick squeeze before letting go of it and laying it carelessly on the table.

you take a deep breath.

you count to ten.

you hold back your tears.

he had never denied your touch before. ever.

“excuse me,” you said lowly. “i’m going to go freshen up.” you fake a smile, going as quickly as possible to the bathroom. you shut the door behind you and lock it, giving the key two turns.

you can’t believe him. he couldn’t possibly be doing this to you.

you had known ever since he introduced you to her that if he had to choose it’d be her. you knew that deep down, you just didn’t believe it.

you couldn’t believe he lied like that.

he made you believe it was in your head. everything he ever said just always sounded right. how could he do that?

you weren’t going to fight. not in the middle of a party.

you look at yourself in the mirror,

inhale, exhale.

inhale, exhale.

it was fine. you’d talk to him about it later. it was probably a misunderstanding, right? you probably heard him wrong, right?

still, you took it in and kept quiet until everybody left.

james had obviously realized how mad you were when you dodged his hug in the kitchen.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, looking all sad and lonely like a wet dog. like it was your fault.

“you dropped my hand, you know that, right?” you stop and look at him, your hands hugging your own torso nervously.

“what? when?”

“when you were talking to lily.” you say, looking down.

“sorry, i don’t really remember.” he casually brushes it off. he did remember.

“did you and her ever have a thing? tell me the truth, did you ever like her romantically or anything like that?”

“god, no! why are you bringing this up again? i’ve told you before, she’s just my friend, why are you-”

“you’re lying to me.” you cut him off, staring at him.

“no, i’m not. what’s gotten into you?” he squints his eyes at you.

“why are you lying? i know you both had a thing a year before we started dating!” you didn’t want to speak loudly, but you couldn’t not raise your voice at him.

“who told you that?” he questioned quietly.

“it doesn’t matter! why did you lie to me about this?” he didn’t answer. “god, i’m so fucking stupid!” you exclaim, laughing at yourself.

“darling, stop. it’s not like that.”

“i should’ve known something was happening. you spent more time with her than with me ever since i became your girlfriend.”

“i didn’t cheat on you, you have to believe me” he tried holding your face in his hands. his touch was inviting, but you pulled away.

“but you love her, don’t you?” he doesn’t answer. “how can i possibly believe you?” you ask, your eyes tearing up. you were trying to hold back the tears, but they were just begging to come out.

“i don’t know. i just need you to trust me, love. please.”

“i don’t know if i can.” you turn around, facing the refrigerator door. you rub your eyes, stressed.

“hey, james.” you call, not turning around to face him.

“yeah?” he answers, staring at your back, a confused look on his face.

“what color are lily’s eyes?” he wanted to bury himself in a hole and never come out. he knew what you were doing and he knew he’d fail.

“i don’t see how that-”

“james, what color are they?”

“green.” he replies, his voice low.

“what color are my eyes?” no answer. you can feel your stomach twist and turn. “james, what color are my eyes?” your voice was louder now.

“i don’t know.” he whispers. you started crying, and he never hated himself so much. you turn around to face him, your head moving in a ‘no’ motion as he tried hugging you. “darling, please. you’re the love of my life, stop it.”

“sure, and you’ve only ever seen her as a friend, right?!” you push him away. “i’m the love of your life and you can’t even tell me my eye color! that’s not fucking right, isn’t it?!”

“you know how much i love you!” he shouts, desperately trying to fix it.

“do i? because you never even say it anymore! hell, you don’t even hold my hand!” you shout back at him. he can’t answer you, he doesn’t know how to. he doesn’t know what to do anymore. “i’m going home.” you announce, grabbing your purse from the kitchen table and heading to his front door.

you didn’t want to leave, but you knew that if you stayed he’d probably find a way to make you believe him. he’d hug you. he’d say he was sorry and that everything would turn out okay.

that wasn’t what you wanted to hear that night, you weren’t really sure of what it was you wanted from him in that moment, but some stupid apology and sex wasn’t going to help.

“i have been your boyfriend for the past year! I haven’t been lily’s!” he exclaimed, following you. you ignored him, cleaning your tears from off your face

“you’re not being fucking logical about this, y/n!” he screamed at you, his voice strained as you open the door to his apartment.

“i guess love isn’t logical, is it?” you say, shutting the door harshly as you head out.

you stop in front of the door, waiting to see if he’d open it and try going after you. if he’d try to make you forgive him.

you waited for a minute.

he didn’t do anything at all.

#silencesscreams #lila writes #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter x reader #james potter fic #james potter oneshot #james potter fanfiction #james potter imagine #james potter #james potter angst #damn this hurt #james potter x reader angst

[msmoony7]

@mrsaluado young sirius in ravenclaw cosplay LMAO

#marauders #harry potter #hogwarts #dead gay wizards #sirius black

[zvdvdlvr]

beloved mutuals:

note: completely stole this idea from @sw34terw34ther bc i am in love with their theme so yeah, ivy ily

#yasmine🪷-> @imshiningjustforyou

#hannah🩻 -> @sp1rit-realm

#zia🍨 -> @rafestar

#elia💋 -> @meredarling

#pookie bear morgan 😻-> @all-that-glitters-is-goldfish

#celina💟 -> @saintels

#kells🤍 -> @anchoeritic

#vivi💌 -> @elliephobic

#big daddy m -> @the-invisible-queer

#gabi 🌺 -> @sincerelyyoursg

#chloe 🪐 -> @softcoremaybank

#jasmine 🌼 -> @my-beloved-fandoms

#alsten 💖 -> @girlescapes

#emi 🍀 -> @sevikasimp

#willow 🍒 -> @cherriesfromeden

#aurora 🩷 -> @matchafairey

#danni 👾 -> @hey-dw

#anissa 🎀-> @stargirlrchive

#airi 👻 -> @nadjantipaxos

(idek if we’re mutuals but i literally do not care whatsoever) #ari 🔪 -> @rafesmuse

#izzy ☁️ -> @hotchnerbau

#betty 🏁 -> @leclercprettyeyes

#lari 💎 -> @mrsaluado

#pax 💍 -> @paxamillius

#fart🫡 -> @fart33

#for navigation

[aphrogeneias]

tagged by @justsheerfilth1 and @edsforehead 🫶🏼

relationship status: do i even have to say it? can't you guess by the content of this blog?

favorite color: all colors between blue and green, like the ocean

song stuck in my head: what i got you got to give it to your ma-ma what i got you got to give it to your pa-pa what i got you got to give it to your daugh-ter you do a little dance and then you drink a little wa-ter

favorite food: tacos 🌮

last song i listened to: sunshine of your love — living color

dream trip: currently, it's italy and greece, preferrably one followed by the other during the summer

last thing i googled: "letter randomizer wheel" to play a game with my students yesterday afternoon <3

tagging: @keeksandgigz @mrsaluado @tomtomslongdong @powderblueblood @taintedcigs @strangerstilinski and whoever else wants to do this byeeeeee💋

#tag game

[ma1dita]

play pretend

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

words: 5.1k (holy shit)

summary: (established relationship…at the end of it lol) suggestive in nature but sfw , underage drinking what do you expect from a dionysus!kid, mentions of vomit The one where Mr. D catches you two in the act, but you and him aren't exactly together yet. Everyone knows you two are together except the both of you, apparently. It’s hard to not run away from something good. (luke castellan x dionysus!reader)

a/n: happy first i love you to you and luke! yall are together now! crazy! thanks for being patient during my lil vacay :)) its been a little over a month since i started the trouble!verse!! ilysm

(posted 2/23 betad by my one and only @mrsaluado )

—

There’s something you’ve always loved about mornings.

Waking up with the first rays of light peeking through your window, the sun’s arms stretched around your sleepy frame pressing warm, featherlike kisses across the expanse of your back.

It almost feels real. 

Apollo must be feeling generous today, the heat of a warm breath brushing against your neck, and your alarm sounding an awful lot like soft snores. You ought to get up and close the blinds; it’s too damn bright. But your weighted blanket feels immensely heavier this morning as it envelopes your senses—smelling of citrus, musk, and a tangible dream of last night that seems to have stayed in bed with you. As soon as you try to untangle your legs from below the covers, warmth presses you deeper into the mattress with a…familiar sigh.

Your eyes pop open.

Quick and calculated, your eyes survey the surroundings of your room—the mop of licorice tresses nestled against the crook of your neck, both of your clothes scattered on the floor, as well as the alarm clock and a few other things knocked off your nightstand from Luke’s enthusiasm. The quiet of the morning is quickly disrupted when you hear two pairs of little hands pounding on your door, and for a moment you wonder if this is one of those hyper-realistic dreams that you don’t want to wake up from.

“Sissy! You missed breakfast,” Pollux bellows as Castor continues to slap his palms on the wood like a bongo drum.

The sheets start rustling as you squirm out of Luke’s grasp, bumping against the muscular ridges of his torso which brings him back to consciousness.

“Be out in a minute!” you slur against his shoulder, and he opens his eyes blearily at the sight of you sprawled over him to try to reach the alarm clock on the ground. As his eyes focus he can’t help but admire the planes of your body, soft and pretty in the morning light like a painting come to life. Waking up in one’s company has never felt more right, even with the usual chatter of campers wafting through the open window. Here in the swaddle of pink and purple sheets, you two are something singular—not camp counselors with jobs to do, not demigods wanting to achieve glory, just your angelface and his trouble. 

It’s intimate, even if it doesn’t have a label, him and you.

His large hand catches you at the plush of your tummy when you almost topple off the bed.

“Shit. Shit! They’re not kidding—Luke, it’s 9:30!”

You fling yourself upwards and off of him, clambering to find clothes from your dresser and tossing him his from the day prior. His belt buckle almost hits him in the eye and he groans, flinching as it smacks him in the cheek.

“Gods, woman. You think camp will crumble because you slept in for once?” 

The glare you throw in his direction is his answer, so Luke slowly tugs his pants on–though he quickly gets distracted by a half-dressed vision of you rummaging around your room.

“Castellan.”

He grins like a little kid in a candy store, and to that, you throw his shoe at him. 

Idiot. 

Too bad you’re in deep shit for sleeping in.

“SISSY!!!” 

“IN A FUCKING MINUTE, THING ONE AND TWO!” 

Screaming at the closed door as you throw some shorts on, you spin around and bump into Luke who’s already got his hands around your waist as his nose nudges the space between your jaw and your neck.

“You were supposed to leave before daybreak,” you sigh, a smile creeping onto your lips, “if you did as you were told, I wouldn’t have slept in.” Fake annoyance leaks through your voice though he knows it not to be true, he wouldn’t be able to latch onto you like this if you were. His nose continues to graze up towards your ear as he presses a kiss behind it—like how you both deal with your feelings and the truth nowadays, a hidden secret kept for both of your eyes only.

“Dunno trouble…I can get used to waking up next to you,” he mumbles. You can feel the imprint of his smile searing into your skin.

Is this what going into cardiac arrest feels like? Genuine question.

You’ve both been sneaking around for the past few weeks, but neither of you has made anything official. They say it’s easier to fall for a friend rather than a stranger—to know someone so intimately (and now in more ways than one) should make falling the easy part. 

But that’s kind of the problem. 

Luke is your best friend—both knowing how the other feels from a single glance, so pray tell to all the gods on Olympus, why has this boy not asked you out yet? Whether this is all for fun or anything resembling a four-letter word that makes your brain go fuzzy, you think you’d rather swim in the Styx instead of putting yourself at a disadvantage. Love is scary, even if it’s Luke. 

Especially since it’s Luke.

His words make you stop in your tracks and you can hear your heart pounding in your ears, so you’re not dead… But the noise turns out to be one of the twins banging on the door again, and now you look like an asshole for taking too long to respond. Luke’s awkwardly looking at you now, tongue in cheek.

“Last warning,” one of your brothers teasingly croons, before the other continues, “Dad’s almost at the door! Your boyfriend’s gotta go or he’s dead…”

Your eyes widen in fear and Luke loosens his grip on your waist, unsure if you look like you’ve seen a ghost at the thought of him being called your boyfriend or the very real possibility of getting caught by your dad.

What a way to go, you two.

“Get out. You gotta go now, out the window!” 

You start pushing him towards the windowpane, your palms pressing against his marked-up and very bare back. 

Holy shit, he still doesn’t have a shirt and he looks like he got mauled by a hellhound. 

You can practically see the grapevines start to flourish outside your window. 

He’s too close for comfort, way too damn close, you think, but can’t reason if you mean Luke or your dad.

“Seriously?” 

He straddles the open window, and Luke doesn’t know what to feel about you pushing him away—it’s a feeling that’s foreign to him since he’s always by your side. 

“Sorry. I’ll make it up to you later angelface,” you mumble, pulling him in for a mind-numbing kiss that almost makes him slip off the rain gutter, and by the time you’ve already closed the window he realizes he’s shirtless in broad daylight, feet hopping off the siding of the cabin.

This couldn’t get any worse (oh but it does in a second), and you’re definitely the asshole this time around.

Your dad barges into your room by the time you throw a shirt on.

“Kid, what the hell? You sick?” 

Mr. D furrows his brows at the sight of you, face flushed as you simper up a lie about your head hurting. It’s weak for an excuse and even if you usually don’t have a tell—he’s the master of this game, so he pretends to not notice you chuck a shirt out the window when you open it to make it less stuffy. 

He raises an eyebrow in disapproval when you both notice your shirt is too big on you.

Oh, he’s onto you, applying heat like a brand to make his only daughter squirm; Mr. D peeks out the window to see a certain Luke Castellan stomping across the path wearing your cropped camp tee—and concludes that if there’s anyone in hot water right now, Luke must be drowning in it.

—

Acting natural is a bit harder for you today, and it feels like a cruel and unusual punishment worth the deepest pit of the Underworld as you scribble words onto a page that won’t even be comprehensible once you read them after this meeting is over. You’ve been catching up on work all day (also known as the impossible task of avoiding Luke) to show your dad you haven’t been slacking off. But a late start meant you fumbled through your day and it was obvious to everyone that you were off your game. Archery ran into javelin throwing, capture the flag teams weren’t ready and had to be made on the spot, there were no new shipments delivered to the camp store, and the infirmary ran out of ambrosia— which were all things that you were expected to coordinate.

Gods, you’re getting too old for this shit.

And if you, the head counselor everyone depends on, is off her game, well—everyone’s on edge. The Stolls even dared to ask you if the world was ending today and you were less than impressed.

Being in love sure feels like it is.

The only thing left to get through is this counselor’s meeting before the party tonight at Fireworks Beach, and you’ll damn yourself to Tartarus if you can’t even get that right. You’re a Dionysus kid, so partying is in your blood. Party planning is your favorite hobby, and to be real, you deserve a drink after today.

Speaking of your father, he’s jabbering on about something you find yourself not particularly interested in, but well…someone’s gotta listen. Charles is dozing off at the table, and Lee jabs him in the side. You see Silena braiding Clarisse’s hair out of the corner of your periphery. And of course, out of all of them, there’s Luke who’s been trying to steal your attention for the past 30 minutes. Black ink smears across the page as you find yourself having every thought that ends supplemented with the memory of how Luke looked at you as he climbed out of your window this morning.

Could he actually want more? 

The all-star camper, Luke Castellan— camp’s best soldier who’s envied by many and admired by all…wants to wake up next to you. You, the camp director’s daughter who keeps everyone in line and is seen more as authority instead of a person with feelings. You’re not always feared, but in a camp for demigod kids who’d rather hone their powers instead of lose special privileges for skipping class, you’re not exactly their favorite either. Once, someone said they’d rather face Mr. D instead of you.

“That doesn’t make sense, we’re supposed to send in the next progress report to Olympus before the last day of the month. That’s Wednesday, D. So it should be by the Sunday before,” you butt in after a statement your dad makes about scheduling. 

All eyes are on you now— it’s the first time you’ve spoken up during tonight’s meeting which was out of character in itself, but your father catches you off guard when the sound of his booming laughter spreads across the room like dynamite tearing through a battlefield.

“Says who? We’ve got enough time,” The god remarks, a strange sheen in his eyes that reflects into yours. He’s on your ass a bit more today, pointing out your flaws from the day and making it his mission to get on your nerves. Few mortals would undermine a god, and though you do it daily to spite him for your existence, your confidence is lower today than it usually is—the reason being a boy with amber eyes boring into your soul from across the table. Everything else pales in comparison now, almost fading into the background, and even here in the hot seat you can’t help but think about if Luke could ever fall for someone like you.

You’re venturing into dangerous territory, you tell yourself, you’ve been hurt before.

It hurts less somehow when you’re cautious. To prepare oneself to be hurt is a defense mechanism ingrained in you—your mom raised you to always be ready for anything. Your self-identity has always been skewed by others’ perceptions. Mirroring the memory of your late mother’s ideals, exemplifying your actions through your immortal father’s personality, you find that fighting your bloodline is one of the most difficult things to come to terms with. A thought passes in your brain that you’ve taken after the worst of them—your mother’s ambition and your father’s unpredictability. 

And who would want to love someone so difficult? 

Tough love is the only way you know how to love. Perhaps someone as good as Luke deserves better than this.

“It’ll be less to worry about that way,” you swallow, and the other counselors sit back in their seats as tension fills the air, signaling another disagreement about to start between your father and you.

“Good thing you don’t have to worry about it since it’s my job, right, kid? Just because you woke up on the wrong side of the bed today doesn’t mean you can change things to better fit your schedule instead of the rest of ours.”

Mr. D scowls, and then again maybe you’re too much like your father—too brash, too mouthy, and self-serving, and your eyes meet Luke’s again as your mouth pulls into a bitter smile.

“It’s the first and last time it’ll ever happen. Gods know I don’t get sick days around here picking up after you,” you spit out harshly, words coming out like acid.

“Just saying kid. Haven’t seen you this careless in years— Maybe check yourself before telling us what to do, yeah?”

Your father’s words have a double meaning as he stares into your soul, glancing between you and Luke, who is none the wiser, still focused on you. Annabeth is holding his hand under the table as you watch his jaw flex. He can see right through the shoddy performance you put on of having it all together.

Does everyone know? 

Your lips pucker as you roll your neck from locking, and a humorless laugh slips from you. Everyone else’s eyes are on Luke, who looks like he’s about to jump across the table and wring a god’s neck. 

Fuck. 

“Whatever. I’m not doing this today,” you grumble, feeling overwhelmed. The chair screeches against the wood of the floor as you push yourself up, fists stained with ink and clenched in teenage angst as you walk to the door to make a quick escape. 

Your father crosses his arms smugly at the success of getting under your skin, and the last words you hear as you leave are, “You never want to hear the truth, kid. Must you always be so…. you?”

Your steps falter for a moment, feeling heavier knowing he’s right so you let go of the door to let it slam it behind you. There’s a commotion inside after you leave but you couldn’t be bothered to give a damn. It’s time to party and you’re sure as hell getting drunk, high, or both tonight.

—

It takes about two cups of wine for the inebriation to start kicking into Luke’s system. He’d never been much of a drinker, but with the way you’re throwing your head back at Lee’s jokes as he plays the guitar, he thinks he should drink a bit more to forget the fear in your eyes this morning and how Lee keeps touching your waist.

He’s been suspended from counselor duties for the rest of the month for mouthing off at Mr. D in your defense, and even if Annabeth tells him he’s lucky to have not met a worse fate, the way things played out today makes him feel like the most unlucky guy at camp. Fuck the gods, or at least…fuck your dads (that doesn’t sound right, but he’s too busy watching the moonlight glint against your skin that whatever his ex is whispering next to him goes in one ear and out the other). 

“Lukey?” Skye mumbles against his neck, “I miss you…you’re always busy doing who knows what!”

Well… she has a name, Luke thinks, taking a big gulp of whatever’s left in his cup as his eyes follow you across the beach. You’re dancing around the bonfire spinning a tipsy Clarisse who laughs without a care in the world. He thinks you’re the best of your parents—determined to achieve your goals, selfless when it comes to others’ needs, and passionate about what you want. Mr. D will never get to see this side of you—the one you show your friends and this place you all call home. He’ll never be deserving of the work you put into Camp Half-Blood (and to some extent, Luke knows he doesn’t deserve you either).

A dejected sigh brushes warm air against his shoulder.

“You know, Castellan. I wish I met you first,” the blond daughter of Athena slurs with tears forming in her eyes.

“What are you talking about?”

“The two of you have always… it’s always been you and her. Even if you both don’t want to admit it. It’s not fair,” she hiccups. Luke pulls the cup out of his ex-lover’s hand and she shakes her head.

“Skye, you’re drunk. I’ll take you back to 6.”

“You really don’t see it do you?” Her hands grapple onto Luke’s shirt like she’s pulling him down and pleading for him to understand.

“That girl is in love with you. The both of you are meant for each other—and you’re both spending too much time trying to fight fate. The rest of us aren’t as lucky, but we sure as hell aren’t stupid.”

There’s a moment of clarity that hits as he looks into Skye’s eyes, and he scratches the back of his neck.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I meant what I said when we broke up a few years ago. You’re both always looking for each other, even if you don’t know it. Just meet in the middle already, for gods’ sake…I’ll be okay,” she sighs, sitting up on the log they were resting on. 

“Your girlfriend is sure as hell to give me a hangover worth her title of being Dionysus’ kid in the morning anyways,” she mutters, kissing Luke on his cheek as a farewell. But out of all of the things to catch your attention that night, Luke’s blush glows in the light of the fire, and he watches you frown and stomp off toward the forest.

For being the son of the god of luck, his dad really won’t give him a break.

It didn’t help that Skye suddenly started projectile vomiting seconds after you left (off of her only cup of wine; wonder how that happened).

—

Luke fights through his growing intoxication on the walk back towards the cabins, but boy are you difficult when you’re angry—you’ve always had a profound effect on his being, even more so with your powers. He makes a wrong turn somewhere through the woods, completely missing the cabins, which he doesn’t realize until he stumbles across the path leading to the Big House. When his eyes focus, he spots Mr. D sipping on a glass as he leans on the railing of the front porch. Be calm and don’t act drunk, Luke tells himself, but all of his concentration goes into not swaying in front of the god of wine that he can’t stop the words from coming out of his mouth.

“Good evening, um…sir.”

“Kid, it’s 3 in the morning. What the hell are you doing here? Gods know it’s not my window you’re trying to climb up. You’re a bit of a ways off.”

Now what the fuck was he supposed to say to that?

Luke freezes in his spot (in reality he bumps into the first wooden step and sticks a hand out to steady himself against the railing).

“Are you drunk?”

Mr. D looks at him knowingly like it’s almost funny to him, eyebrows furrowed and head quirked like he can sniff it off of him. He probably can, now that Luke thinks really hard about it.

“I’m not gonna answer that because I think you know the answer already,” the son of Hermes words carefully, but nothing smart can come of this. It’s like playing chess with checkers, and Dionysus of all gods would know—no breathalyzer needed.

There’s a beat of silence, before Mr. D says, “I’m gonna give you another chance to–”

“Yes, I’m drunk, but it’s not trouble’s fault—it’s mine!” he blabbers, walking closer to your father. 

“She’s mad at me for defending her from you earlier besides the fact I act stupid around her and I only had a few cups, I swear, but she’s…your daughter is…extraordinary.”

“What?”

“Your daughter makes me feel drunk, sir. Even without the wine. I don’t know what to do with myself, just please don’t get mad at her. She has a lot more to lose…” He feels pathetic in all sense of the word, rubbing at his eyes until Mr. D snaps his fingers and the alcohol blanket lifts from his senses. Like a bucket of cold water splashed onto his spine, Luke is suddenly very awake, and all too embarrassed for the waterfall of words he’s told your father.

“Oh.”

“I didn’t know she knew how to do that yet. She’s learning quickly.” Mr. D looks out into the distance, the dim light of the cabins acting like a beacon of light in the middle of the campgrounds.

Luke wrings his hands, picking at his thumbs and he’s sure he’s about to get kicked out of camp for his behavior, much less the fact that he’s been fraternizing with the director’s daughter.

“Sometimes I think she knows too much.” He licks his lips, awkwardly standing next to the god and wondering if the dark liquid in his cup is wine.

“Do you think I don’t know that, Luke? Do you really think I don’t know about the parties? I let her have her fun too you know— I'm the one that keeps Chiron asleep. She doesn’t ask for much. I know I give her a hard time. I’m just….” 

There are a few things about Mr. D’s statement that surprise Luke: the fact that he actually knows his name, how he safeguards his daughter’s interests, and the possibility of a god actually knowing how to be a good parent. 

It still doesn’t take away from the countless times he’s seen you put yourself down because of your father, the inadequacy you feel from the responsibilities you take on, and how you’d do anything for simple applause. Tough love is still love with a heavy hand. And it leaves bruises, whether he meant it or not.

“Is that why you’ve never sent her on an actual quest? We all know picking up the twins doesn’t count in the grand scheme of things.”

“For what? To achieve glory? Recognition? I never understood why we Olympians do that. Send children off to their deaths to deserve a moment of their godrent’s time, or a gift to shut them up. I don’t need her to be a hero, she doesn’t have anything she needs to prove to me. I need her to be my daughter, and preferably alive. That’s enough for me.”

Luke takes a step back in disbelief. There’s something in his being that yearns to be loved like that, without having to prove it or needing to deserve it. It hurts almost, the way he wants to be loved like your family loves you. Your father, an Olympian, standing in front of him telling him that your existence is enough to be worthy of his presence. In the silence that follows, Luke wonders if he’ll ever have that.

“You should tell her that more often, sir.”

“Listen. She’s a good kid, I just give her a hard time because it’s hard to get attached to you mortals. Your lives are so short compared to the infinite timeline I live. I can do everything in my power to try to keep her safe, but I can’t stop her from leaving. So don’t blame me if I act like an asshole if it’ll keep her here for a bit longer. I’ll take all the time I can get.”

“Then how do I tell her I love her with without either of us running away?”

Mr. D laughs loudly now, his wrinkles crinkling as liquid sloshes out of his cup. It turns out to be grape juice you left out for him before the party.

“Mortals always busy themselves with trivial things, like pride and sorrow. Pandora’s box left you humans with nothing but hope. I say you swallow the negative and just say it how it is. You’ll have a lot more time being happier together that way. I already lost my bet against some of the counselors anyway.”

“What bet?”

Your dad swats at Luke like he’s a dog to kick, and tosses his glass over his shoulder where it disappears in the night air.

“Get off my porch Castellan, and just know if you hurt her…” 

“I’d die before that happens, sir.”

“That would hurt her most of all. Think about what that means. For gods’ sake she’s left her light on for you, so go on before I set the harpies on you. And don’t call me sir, it freaks me out. You’re still not special to me.” Mr. D stalks back inside the Big House, and Luke takes that as his cue to leave. The cold night air pushes him back towards the cabins, the light in your window luring him in like a ship lost at sea.

—

“I know you’re still awake, trouble.”

You hear him move closer to the bed as you keep your eyes shut, evening out your breaths, but you’re never able to hide anything from Luke anymore.

“I thought I closed that window,�� you mumble, turning your face more towards your pillow.

“You didn’t.”

Of course, you didn’t. You were hoping he’d chase after you this time around, even if you made him drunk in more ways than one.

“Skye keep you busy?” you say nonchalantly, and you hear Luke laugh as he tugs your duvet off of you.

“Your dad did, actually,” he says grinning, watching your eyes pop open in confusion as you turn and face him, propping yourself up on your knees.

“What the fuck?”

“You could’ve gotten me kicked out y’know? Stumbled onto his porch telling him about how drunk you make me feel even without a drop of alcohol and how I don’t know what the fuck to do with myself when I’m around you.”

“You shouldn’t be so brave to fight gods like that for me. Even if it’s my dad, Castellan,” you whisper, and he kneels next to your bed so he can look at you in the eyes from an equal standpoint. Because that’s what the two of you are— equal, singular, one and the same. And he’s never made you feel less than, even if your brain tries to convince you of it.

“Stop that,” he scoffs, shaking his head as he grabs your hands, “stop calling me my last name like it detaches you from how you feel about me. I want you to stop pretending when it's just you and me,” he pleads, whispering your name so softly that the sound of it brushes against your lips.

There’s something more intimate in the way he looks at you now compared to when you were naked and nestled against him this past morning. The act of knowing that it’s you and him, no matter how hard you try to fight it.

His knuckle brushes against your jaw, pushing your eyes to look back into his, and you can’t deny him any longer.

“Hey. I love you, and I know you feel the same; I'm tired of you acting like you're not and I’m going crazy he—”

His words are halted by your lips surging forward to meet him in the middle. The culmination of years of friendship has brought you to this special moment frozen in time, and sure, demigods die young but this must be what he’ll see in Elysium. If there’s a single memory he can bring with him to his next life, he hopes it’s this one—the taste of you and how it feels to be loved like this, without question or reason. You pull away with a sweet smile and he feels drunk again.

“You’re my best friend, angelface,” you mumble.

Okay, now that sobered him up faster than it should have.

Luke stiffens, his hands falling to your thighs as he starts to ramble, “If you’re actually friendzoning me right now I might just roll out of your window and feed myself to a harpy.”

The laugh that comes out of you booms across the room as you wrap your arms around him with a radiant smile. You always have so much to say, but right now only three words come to mind. Five vowels, three consonants, and the gravity of it pushes out of your mouth like there’s no better truth to tell.

“I love you. I think I’ve been in love with you even before I liked you and I’m sorry I’ve been too scared to say it. I’m not used to…”

Luke sighs in relief, as he presses his scarred cheek against your shoulder. 

“You think I’m not scared of us either, trouble? I worship the ground you walk on, and everyone can see that.”

“Well I’m not a god, Luke,” you say tugging him up by his mop of curls as your legs wrap around him.

“Sometimes when I’m with you, I think you’re the closest thing to it,” he whispers, pulling your chin down for another kiss until you both get your fill. He thinks he can kiss you forever until the end of your short lives, until it’s senseless and maddening, like falling into a drunken stupor. Loving you is an experience he’ll never be able to rid himself of, heart stained with the best of you until both your fingertips are red and raw with the feeling.

You pull him back into your bed as your giggles fill the early morning air. He’s quickly becoming what you love most about waking up in the morning.

—

Chris Rodriguez wakes up to the sound of the morning birds and chattering children in the busy cabin 11. As he rubs at his eyes, ready to take on the day as an interim cabin counselor for the rest of the month because of Luke’s suspension, sunlight falls onto the one empty bunk in the corner of the room (Fact: There is never an empty bed in the Hermes cabin. Also a fact: he and Chiron will be able to cash in against the other counselors as fast as his feet can take him to the Big House).

—

“To love someone is firstly to confess; I’m prepared to be devastated by you.” Billy Ray Belcourt

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[hotchfiles]

divine rush.

⋅☆⋅ mrsaluado's first xmas event ⋅☆⋅ masterlist

pairing: sirius x fem!reader.

summary: sirius is just very very nervous to meet your parents.

content warnings: maybe underage drinking lol but just fluff

word count: 1,4k

"oh my, you do not look well, pads." that was probably not the best way you greet your boyfriend as soon as you open the door to your home, but it got you by surprise how red and sweaty he looked, he wasn't the type to get sick and he looked absolutely feverish. "are you alright?" you touched his forehead with the back of your hand terribly worried about the boy in front of you.

"i'm fine! just... nervous." sirius replied, his teeth clenched as his eyes traveled to the room behind you. so that was it. you smiled back at him, holding his hand to finally pull him into your house, to meet your parents for the first time.

"you're quite charming, nothing to worry, babe."

"don't think being a good kisser's gonna work on your old man." you laughed out loud but you weren't sure he was actually trying to be funny, his eyes still roaming around your parents' house.

it was a decent middle class family house, not nearly as big as his own, or even the potter's one, where he had been living for the past year. still, it reminded him of his best mate's home in the best way possible: it felt like home. your little cousins were running around, no one telling them it was impolite to do that. most of your family were casually dressed and had christmas hats with the family's last name embroidered.

it was easy to see why you were so loving and understanding and for a second he envied you, the same way he envied james. he had spent so many years feeling like christmas was just a day family got together to make their highest efforts to look and seem better, more successful and richer than the others. worrying if his clothes were alright or if his mum was going to yell at him for it. arrogance was really the only things uniting his family and for a while he thought that was how it was for everyone.

"dad's been doing literal shots of spiked eggnogg, you could try the kissing." that finally got his attention back to you, a boyish grin taking over his beautiful face, following up with the quickest of kisses, his lips barely touching yours.

you nodded and were about to take him to the kitchen to meet everyone, especially your mum and dad, but your mother was quick to notice you both were taking a while at the door, going to you to see if everything was alright.

"merlin, aren't you dashing?" was her literal first words to sirius, excited her daughter had been dating such a beautiful boy, "where's the tattoos?" he was confused for a moment, his arms covered up with his coat, but he gave his hands so your mum could see it, his eyes looking straight at you trying hard to understand what was going on, you simply shrugged, like you had no idea and no involvment in that.

of course you did, you had mentioned to your parents he had quite a few and that he probably would be nervous about it so your mother thought the best way to make him ease up was just to put him on the spot immediately. good intentions, not the best execution.

still, he was getting less nervous by the second, your mother was a blabber mouth, she could talk with a rock, it felt you blinked for a second and she was already pushing him to the kitchen, taking one of the red embroidered christmas hats and fitting it on his head just before she herself introduced the boy to her sisters, who also had no problem showering him with compliments, you followed close behind, trying to hold in how amused you were and when you got to your dad, your mum went to his side, waiting for you to do your part.

"this is sirius, dad, sirius black, the boyfriend i've been telling you about." the fact you talked about him to your parents seemingly so many times had him die and come back mentally about three times before offering his hand so your dad could shake.

your dad gladly did, again, asking him all sorts of questions, about his tattoos, about motorbikes and music and what kind of food did he like. all questions about him and him only, not about his family, not about his blood, not about his name nor money. just him, what he liked, what hogwarts classes was he good at, what quidditch team did he support.

all training he had done as a child on how to behave correctly at family parties showed completely useless as the men of your family fought about who was going to win the quidditch world cup and the women tried to secretly talk about their sex life to one another but were all a bit tipsy on wine to really notice how loud they were.

your dad even offered you both eggnogg, and before any of you could drink it, he got a bottle of firewhisky, already half empty, and added barely a shot to each, his finger going over his lips asking for secrecy, but your mother obviously noticed it. "you're not trying to get the boy drunk, are you?"

"sweetums, let the kids have some fun, it's christmas!" he argued, knowing very well the amount of alcohol he had added wasn't going to do much but that it would be enough for him to create a cool father-in-law image.

you were in heaven, every time you felt sirius' hand brush on yours softly, showing you he was fine as he talked so happily to your family you felt your heart getting fuller and fuller of love for him. at the end of the night his coat was nowhere to be seen, he had leftover containers to take back to the potters and his arms were very very colorful after he decided to let your cousins paint his tattoos.

your parents offered the guest room so he wouldn't have to leave, although he would have to share it with other family guests, but he didn't want to impose so much just yet.

and when it was only the both of you, before he left, sirius took you in the most passionate and grateful of kisses. "i want this for us, doll face, so much."

"what do you mean?" you looked up at him confused, your arms over his shoulders.

"family... this freedom, kids running around, spiking the boyfriend's eggnogg... i hope we get to where your parents are." you could try to hold your emotions, you could try not to cry, but you knew it would be impossible, so you just let your eyes water and put your head on his chest.

you hoped so too, and hearing him say those things gave you a sense of certainty that one day it would be you both having your kid's partner over for christmas, and that thought on its own made that night one of the best of your life up to now.

#lari writes xmas #lari writes sometimes #marauders x reader #sirius x you #sirius x reader #sirius x y/n #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black imagine #sirius black scenario #still working on his fancast i just know it aint ben barnes