Chadwick Boseman: Ew. What kind of tea is this?
Michael B Jordan: I boiled Gatorade.
pairing(s): marauders (undetermined) x reader
warning(s): eventually 18+, bridgerton au, mentions of marriage, slight cursing?, i’m not british so just pretend i know what i’m talking about, mentions of scandal and incest, not proofread/edited so forgive me
word count: 818
masterlist
Sponsored by Lady Minerva McGonagall and desperate to find a match before you’re truly considered a spinster, you find yourself caught up in the whirlwind that is The Season. Will you be able to find a husband by August? Or is fortune just as fickle as the ton?
Swathes of fabric lined with lace, ruffles, and beads filled the great expanse of the room.
Yellows as pale as cream and blues as deep as midnight thrown over chase and chair. London’s dreary gloom seemed brighter the longer such a vibrant array of colors decorated the space. Lady Minerva McGonagall wasted no expense on the three debutantes she’d chosen to sponsor again this season.
Beside you, Mary eyed the fabrics with rapt attention.
You fingered the expensive satin silk of the dress nearest to you. Simple in silk, but a striking royal purple, it truly was a marvel of craftsmanship.
“I can’t believe how many dresses there are.” Mary’s Scottish accent appeared to be far less pronounced than what you might’ve imagined, but you three were sure to be an odd bunch. Lady McGonagall had sponsored you lot for two years already. A favor welcomed by your not-so-noble families. Or rather, your not-so-wealthy families.
“I’ve decided on new wardrobes for you this season. You will be married by the end of it, if I have any say. Mary’s are by the window and Lily’s are by the bed.”
Minerva’s sharp gaze turned to you. You’d had either the luck or misfortune (which one it was, you weren’t quite sure) to additionally spend the last few years as Minerva’s ward. Her rough edges were thorns you’d grown accustomed to, especially in her times attempting to make you a reputable lady.
“Your’s are by the chest of drawers.”
She’d certainly paid attention to detail. Mary’s dresses consisted almost entirely of her favorites: warm pinks and oranges. Brilliantly cut to showcase her clavicle, each dress appeared as if it would cover her breasts modestly but still draw attention to her long, slender neck. The simplicity of their silhouettes showcased the utterly perfect embroidery that decorated each bodice and skirt.
Lily’s were a myriad of greens, sprinkled with the occasional peach or yellow. Her soft, drapey dresses contrasted beautifully with the sleek lines of Mary’s attire.
Your own clothes appeared to be a quite suitable mixture of the two.
In moody shades of blue and violet, with the odd periwinkle and silver, you were honestly looking forward to donning the impressive garments. Any jewelry you wore would be borrowed from Lady McGonagall’s extensive collection. A collection, you were afraid to say, you’d miss dearly once you wed.
It was Lily that surged forward to examine her pieces, a chorus of thank yous from each of your lips as you did the same. Minerva smiled knowingly. Your dresses last year and the year before were beautiful, yes, but these actually suited you in a way those hadn’t. Three years of sponsoring the same girls had gone from a favour to fondness. She leaned onto her cane as her gaze flicked between you all. Still, she would be lying if she said she wasn’t eager to find you husbands.
“This is beautiful,” Lily breathed. In her hands, an elegant ensemble of a cream colored fabric hung. You grinned. If this was any indication of how this year’s season would go, you were more than ready. Jill, Minerva’s favorite maid, entered the room holding four sheets of familiar pale paper. Your eyes narrowed in delight. Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers were a joy every season. Mary reached for the pamphlet first. She knew better than anyone how gossip could be wielded as a weapon, and her eagerness to uncover the secrets of this year’s marriage mart was palpable. You felt the same.
Dearest Gentle Readers,
How lovely it is to greet you again. Our time away from Society has proven wonderfully refreshing indeed, though I would be quite the liar if I claimed to not miss you. Our extraordinary ton has now returned from our glorious reprieve, and it seems there are a many anxious mamas hoping to prey on the unsuspecting wiles of this Season’s eligible bachelors.
Last year, scandal swept through the ton when none other than Miss Narcissa Black married Duke Lucius Malfoy in secret after a supposedly whirlwind love affair. Hopefully, Mr. Sirius Black is as unbothered as he appears.
Regardless of the nearly disastrous ending to last year’s entertaining exploits, the new batch of debutantes seem sparkling indeed.
There is fierce Lady Charity Burbage, who proves to be a bold wonder amongst a meek crowd. Or perhaps one might find interest in Lady Aurora Sinistra, who I dare say is more brilliant and sharp than ever. Even Lady Pandora Rosier seems dreamier of late.
There is one thing for certain, reader: this season will be one to remember.
Keep your wits about you. Scandal lurks in every corner, as tricky as a hungry fox and more than ready to sink its claws into an unknowing victim. Guard your hearts, gentle ton, for I fear what I will write this season will be quite damning indeed.
Yours Truly,
Lady Whistledown
a parent trap inspired au
Summary: You and James Potter were once intertwined, hearts beating for each other, but due to unforeseen circumstances, you decided to break up, taking Harold with you and Harry with him.
Pairings: James Potter x reader
Series Masterlist
chapter i
chapter ii
chapter iii
chapter iv
Web of Destiny
Status: Oneshot
Paring: Miguel O’hara x SpiderReader (Y/n)
Genre/Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Enemies-to-Lovers Troupe, RudeMiguel, BubblyReader, Swearing, Hidden Sexual Tension, femReader, Pinning, Flirting.
Summary: Hobie and Gwen successfully apprehend a Mysteiro anomaly from Earth-618 with the help of that universes Spider-person. Amazed by her skills they decided to bring her back to Nueva York. Much to Miguel’s dismay.
Word Count: 2.1k
A/N: My first Miguel x Reader fic! I’m super nervous but I hope you guys like it! Also, Reader is a Silk variant. Instead of Cindy Moon getting bit after Peter, it was Y/n. (Additional info at the end)
—————————————————————-
My name is Y/n L/n. I was bitten by a radioactive spider. And for the last three years, I've been the one and only Silk.
I’m pretty sure you guys know the rest. I saved the city bunch of times, made great friends along the way. Saved the city from collapsing into itself, found out I wasn’t the only Spider-person in my universe. Saved the city again. Saved my uncle. I couldn't save my best friend, Cindy Moon, so now I save everyone else.
Despite all that, I love being Silk. Because no matter how hard I fall, I always get back up. I’m just your friendly neighborhood Silk.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Lyla, what is it this time?” Miguel groans, swiping a screen to the side with a flick of his hand. His watch lights with a familiar ring just as his trusty assistant pops out of thin air, pacing around nervously.
Lyla chuckles apprehensively, her lips forming into a nervous smile, “Uh-well. We have a tiny situation”, She brings her indent and thumb close together to show how minuscule the problem was at hand.
Miguel’s eyes crease together in disappointment, a groan slipping past his lips. He begins to lower the podium towards the ground while cursing incoherently under his breath.
“How tiny?”
“You’ll barely notice it!” She tries to assure, her smile twitching under his unimpressed glare.
Letting out a defeated sigh he turns the transmission off, turning to face the entrance. His head tilts to the side, hearing hurried footsteps walking towards his room, just as he steps down to the leveled floor. His hand rests against his hips, waiting for the doors to slam open.
As if one cue the door opens wide, Hobie walks in with a bounce to his steps. He flashes Miguel a lopsided smile as Gwen follows behind him, followed by an unknown Spider. Miguel clenches his jaw feeling his body tingle at the sensation of the girl. She was a spider alright, but why was she here? Miguel raises an eyebrow as his eyes trace over the new female.
Her tightly secured spandex suit did not bear the traditional spider-person colors. It was black and white which was unique but not something new. Her hair was out freely, falling past her shoulders as it swayed along her steps. And surprisingly she didn’t have a full covering mask, but a mask that just covered her jaw all the way up to her nose.
Miguel clears his throat roughly, seeing how the female caught onto his deep and calculating stare. Her e/c eyes flutter as she too examines him, her eyes trailing from the top of his brown wavy locks all the way down to his torso. Luckily, his mask was off. But that only proved to be a problem as he couldn't help but feel self conscious under the piercing stare.
“We’re back! It went by smoothly!” Gwen reports, stopping right in front of Miguel. Hobie places his arms across his back nodding sluggishly.
Miguel huffs out at her words, turning to Hobie who was in charge of the simple mission. His glare alone caused Gwen to shuffle around awkwardly, his unsaid words of disappointment speaking volumes.
“Hobie, who is this?” Miguel grumbles, his eyes darting to the girl, eyes filled with scrutiny. Upon hearing herself being mentioned the girl takes a step forward, and beside Hobie who shrugs off Miguel’s angered expression.
“Hello, you're Spider-man 2099? Gotta say I expected someone ... .a little friendlier lookin-” the girl blurts out, his eyes widening at how straight forward her words were. Gwen couldn't help but clear her throat to prevent herself from giggling.
“-Not saying you're ugly or anything, totally daddy material, but you're missing something, Ya know? Something that gives off the ‘friendly-neighborhood-Spider-man vibes?” She quickly adds, causing Hobie to snicker beside her. The girl blushes slightly, redness spreading from the tops of her cheeks. Miguel turns to face her, his arms leaving his hips to cross over his broad chest. He stares down into her smaller statue with annoyance.
“Who are you?” He repeats again, his eyes scrunched together into a tight line. The female chuckles, looking in between him and the two other spiders who brought her here.
“You look stressed, is he stressed?”
“He’s stressed all the time” Hobie adds, smirking when Miguel growls warningly under his breath.
“Jesus, you’re gonna get wrinkles ya know,”
“You’re very chatty, probably means your canon hasn't happened yet. How long did you say you were Spider-woman for?” Miguel offers an unamused smile, holding nothing but annoyance in his tone.
“Silk, I go by Silk in my universe,” she replies, mimicking his form by crossing her arms over her chest. Miguel raises an eyebrow, his expression changing to mild confusion. He knew Silk, he had a few Silk’s at headquarters. But this one, the one standing in front of him and peering up into his eyes through her thick lashes, was not the ones he was familiar with.
She was different, because she made him feel….different.
“Silk? But you’re not Cindy Moon.”
The playful smile on the girl's face vanished at his worlds, her arms dropping to her side as her eyes widened, “How did you?….she….”
Miguel sighs out, moistening his lips ever so slightly as he felt uncomfortable watching her look upset in front of him. A feeling he didn’t quite understand,
“Ahh…I see. She’s your canon?”
The girl's eyes furrow at his words, puffing out her cheeks out in annoyance, “What’s that supposed to mean? What’s anything supposed to mean! All I know is I was taking names and kicking ass when these-“ the female glances at the two spider people beside her.
“Spider fella’s show up! They’re the ones who brought me here!” She states, throwing her hand in the air in frustration. Miguel clenched his jaw, his eyes landing on the slight pout he was able to make out from under her mask. Her large eyes staring into his eyes.
‘She’s…like a puppy’
A subtle smile twitches along Miguel’s lips, his jaw immediately clenched to prevent the smile from breaking though. Deciding he had heard enough he turns to Hobie.
“Hobie, what’s the meaning of this? I specifically tasked you with bringing back an anomaly, not the Spider-person from that universe,”
“Technically there is another Spider-person in my universe-“
“Zip it, grown men are talking!” Miguel hisses, his eyes snapping to her momentarily, giving her a warning look.
“Gosh, I see what you mean. He’s a grump”
“Miguel, chill. She helped us with the anomaly, I think she’d be a great asset to the team. A great help, honestly. She is quite good” Hobie explains, raising his head in mock surrender at Miguel’s unrelenting gaze.
“That I am” the girl adds proudly, fist pumping Gwen playfully.
Miguel tuts at his words, running a hand through his locks. She had a mouth on her that’s for sure, and Miguel didn’t seem to have the energy to deal with that. Not when the entire building was filled with smart-talking Spider-people,
“I’m not too sure, I don’t know if I want another talkative Spider-person.”
“Aw C’mon! She’s great! Right Gwen?” Hobie argues, glancing at Gwen for assistance, who jolts at being mentioned.
“I-Yes! Her webs come out of her fingertips!” She replies in awe, making the girl chuckle, she turns to Miguel who’s hard expression didn’t change.
“Stop, you make me blush Gwen, and anyway, if he doesn’t want me I’m totally cool dudes. I know where I’m not wanted” She says softly. SHe gently pets Gwen’s shoulder reassuringly, touring to offer Hobie a smile before she takes a tentative step backwards. Just as she continues her way out Hobie sends a glare to his boss.
“You sure you want her to leave? She could be an asset.” Hobie adds quietly, his eyes holding determination. Miguel sighs out, rolling his eyes for being so soft.
“Wait.”
The girl's step came to a halt, throwing her head over her shoulder to glance back at Miguel with some surprise. She didn't think he would be the one to stop her seeing how unwelcoming he was. Now fully turning around to face the three, she places her arms along her hips, eyes squinting in question.
“Hm? What up big ol’ grump?”
Miguel bits his lips, almost drawing blood when his fangs accidentally gaze past his lower lip. He began to regret calling her back.
“First odd, stop with the nicknames. It’s childish. And second, I’ll allow it but as long as you're under surveillance for the first couple of months,”
“Seriously?” her eyes widened, not believing that she was being given a chance. Gwen fist-pumps the air at Miguels words in happiness.
Seeing how Miguel waited patiently for her response, the girl clears her throat. Her hand reached up to the top trace over her mask. “Sure, sounds good to me. I don’t mind!”. As she pulls her mask down, Miguel’s breaths come to a halt.
If he thought her figure, her hair, her eyes were beautiful. It was nothing compared to her face. Her plump lips form into an amused smile, her eyes crinkling as Miguel openly gawks at her full appearance.
The buzzing in the back of his mind that had been bothering him the moment she stepped into the confines of the room coming back at full force. Miuguel couldn't help but clench his fists, casting his eyes away from her. He didn't know what he was feeling, but his heart was racing erratically against his chest. And he was certain it could be heard. Miguel roughly clears his throat awkwardly to gain composure.
“So, who's assigned to me?” the girl asks nonchalantly, walking back to the trio, absentmindedly twirling her mask.
Ather question Hobie stand up straighter, smiling wide, “I can-”
“I will.”
Miguel blurts out, his words causing Hibie to shoot him an amused glace, his smirk playing along his lips. Moiguel catches how the girl slightly cringes at his words, probably afraid of being with someone as intimidating as him.
Feeling all eyes on him, he clears his throat, walking over to stand directly in front of her. Now that he was this close he was surprised how tiny she was compared to his buff and enormous stature.
“I will watch over you for a few months, if you are not performing well enough I’m sending you back to your universe. Got it?” he says sternly, ignoring the fluttering deep within his gut. Maybe it was telling him how hellish the next few months would be with such a bubbly character.
The girl lets out a silvery laugh at his rough time, raising her hand in mock surrender. Her chest vibrates with amusement which makes Miguel gulp nervously at the sight.
“Yes sir! Sounds good, when is the next mission chief?”
“Don’t. Just call me Miguel”
“Alright, Miguel, I’m Y/n L/n.”
~~~~~~~~
“Wow, this is sick!” Y/n murmurs, twirling her wrist adorned with the newly made device. She was so bust inspecting every crevice of the devolve that she missed how Miguel rolled his eyes. Half in annoyance and half in amusement.
“So this is what allows you to jump universes? That is so cool, this is giving ‘Back to The Future’ vibes” She chuckles as Miguel activates his suit, his mask covering his face from view.
“Be careful with that, it's a very important technology. Don’t go playing a round with it-” Miguel warns, pointing to his own device. The smirk doesn't leave Y/n’s face as she adjusts her mask in place.
“- And I’ll know, it also records every universe you enter. So if you so much as play around with it. I will know.” He snarls under his breath, walking past her.
“Jeez, do you ever lighten up?”
“Not when I’m burdened with so much, so come along” Miguel urges, opening a portal a few feet away from them. Y/n works her fingers to detangle her hair watching Miguel step closer into the portal not giving her time to catch up.
“W-wait! Why are you rushing me? Wait up!”
“C’mon niña, we don't have all day. '' Miguel growls slowly.
“Hey! I’m not a kid!” Y/n argues, stepping right beside him. Migual fails to keep his lips from twitching into a smirk at the fact he understood her. Lucky for him she couldn't see the way his eyes soften with warmth due to his mask. But it only lasted a moment. As he stays quiet for a bit to which she huffs in annoyance,
“I took Spanish once as an elective. So don't call me kid! It insulting”
“Fine, I won't call you that. Now try to catch up….princesa”
__________________________________________
A/N: My first Miguel x Reader Fic! I hope you guys enjoy! Ever since I watched Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse in theatres I’ve been hooked!! Miguel is just *chefs kiss* and being voice by Oscar Isaac is just the cherry on top! Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy! There might be a Pt2, but that’s only if you guys want it. Other then that, enjoy!! Also this is kind of a test to see if anyone would be interested in this fic idea.
*Still under editing, excuse any mistakes, grammatical errors and spell checks*
Also, some background into on Silk if you guys don’t know:
Got bit by the same Spider as Peter Parker
In her universe there is two spider-people (herself and Spider-Man)
She has enhanced Spidey sense called a Silk-sense
Has organic webbing that shoot through her fingertips
Spider-Man and Y/n work together, they also know each others secret identities
Cindy Moon from Y/n’s universe is dead
Spider-Man and Y/n don’t have any sexual attraction to one another, they’re just real good friends (like how Cindy and Peter are in the comics)
a series by @DESOIEUR (2025)
wherein marlene and lily think you're dating someone on the quidditch team. you aren't—you swear to merlin you aren't! but in the bitter heat of it all, somehow, you find yourself admitting you do. you'd hate to disappoint your best mates or have them think you're a liar, and, surely, james potter, captain of the quidditch team, would understand your predicament?
james potter x fem gryffindor reader. ﹙🏆﹚fake dating to lovers.
taglist is currently open ! send an ask to be tagged.
0. in between scylla and charybdis.
1. please, play along.
2. coming soon: not here for a quick shag.
₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 this is awkward..
pairing: james potter x f!reader
➥ In which, you were fed up with James, deciding to put aside your pettiness you drag him away from the gryffindor party to talk to him.
Warnings: angst, fluff, james pov, this inspired by awae (aka the best show ever), r and james speaking is 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓵𝔂 inspired by gilbert confessing that he wants anne so effing bad bc he 𝓯𝔀 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓿𝔂, lowkey dont hate me for making the “dreams” u want so like…. I just didn't know what to do bc like idk smh i set back women 50 years by that
a/n: tysm for all the love on this series!! y’all are NOT ready for the next chapter, writing it rn and 😭🙏 BUTTT tysm for 300🫶🫶 also I finished the last chapter... do y'all want me to post it today or edge y'all and post it tomorrow
series masterlist ! - divider creds: i-mmaculatus & dollywons
It was now nearing the end of the school year—even if there was still a month to go. James could now be in the same room as you without glaring daggers at whoever you were talking to. Though he told himself he was over you, he knew deep down that the feelings never faded.
He told himself it didn’t matter. He told himself he was fine. And yet, every time he caught sight of you, every time your laughter reached his ears from across the room, it was as if someone had set fire to his resolve.
He wanted to talk to you so badly it was almost pathetic. But it was like the universe itself was conspiring against him—or, more specifically, like Finn Laurier had developed some sort of sixth sense for James’s intentions.
Because every single time James gathered enough courage, every time he braced himself to walk over to you, Finn would appear out of nowhere. Whether it was in the Great Hall, the library, or even during Quidditch practice, Finn always seemed to materialize by your side at precisely the wrong moment, stealing away your attention and leaving James feeling like the outsider in his own story.
It was infuriating.
“Mate, you’re grinding your teeth,” Sirius remarked casually one afternoon as they sat under the beech tree by the lake.
James startled, realizing with some embarrassment that Sirius was right. He quickly unclenched his jaw and let out a frustrated sigh.
“Sorry,” he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. “I’m just…”
“Just what?” Sirius prompted, raising an eyebrow.
“Nothing,” James lied, though his voice betrayed him.
Sirius gave him a knowing look. “If this is about her again, just—”
“It’s not about her,” James interrupted quickly, though he winced as the words left his mouth. He knew Sirius wouldn’t believe him, and he wasn’t sure he even believed himself anymore.
Sirius sighed, shaking his head. “Prongs, you’re going to drive yourself mad if you keep this up. Just talk to her already.”
“I’ve tried!” James snapped, louder than he intended. He lowered his voice and added, “I’ve tried, but every bloody time, Finn shows up. It’s like he’s got a bloody tracker on her or something.”
Remus, who had been quietly reading nearby, finally chimed in. “You know, maybe you’re overthinking this,” he said, not looking up from his book.
“How could I possibly be overthinking this?” James demanded, throwing his hands up in exasperation.
“Maybe Finn’s not doing it on purpose,” Remus suggested calmly. “Maybe it’s just bad timing.”
“Bad timing?” James repeated incredulously. “Bad timing doesn’t happen this often, Moony. This is a pattern.”
Remus gave him a skeptical look but didn’t argue further.
James leaned back against the tree trunk, closing his eyes and letting out a long breath. He hated how much this was bothering him. He hated how much control this entire situation had over him.
But most of all, he hated the thought that you might actually be happy with Finn.
It wasn’t that he thought Finn was a bad guy—quite the opposite, really. Finn was charming, talented, and annoyingly good at everything he did. He was the kind of guy parents adored, the kind of guy professors went out of their way to praise. And worst of all, he was the kind of guy who could make you smile in a way James had only dreamed of.
James opened his eyes, staring up at the branches overhead. “Maybe I should just give up,” he muttered.
Sirius snorted. “Yeah, right. That’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve said all day.”
“I’m serious,” James insisted.
“No, I’m Sirius,” Sirius quipped, smirking.
James groaned, throwing a small pebble in his direction. “Not the time for jokes.”
“Fine, fine,” Sirius said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But seriously, you’re not giving up. You’re James Potter, remember? Stubborn, arrogant, never-takes-no-for-an-answer James Potter. You don’t give up on things you care about.”
James hesitated, staring at the rippling water of the Black Lake. He wanted to believe Sirius. He wanted to believe that there was still a chance, that you weren’t as far out of reach as you seemed.
But as he watched you across the courtyard later that day, standing beside Finn and laughing at something he said, James couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, it was too late.
But his doubt soon melted into something far more unsettling when he noticed your gaze shift. For the first time in what felt like forever, your attention wasn’t on Finn Laurier—it was on him.
James felt like he might throw up.
His heartbeat thundered in his ears, and his hands fidgeted with the hem of his robes as he quickly looked away. In fact, he didn’t just look away; he turned his entire body in the opposite direction, hoping to mask the flush rising to his cheeks.
“C’mon, James, you’ve got a Quidditch game to win today! Channel all that anger you’ve got towards Laurier into winning us the Cup!” Sirius said, clapping a hand on James’s shoulder with his trademark grin.
James gave a faint nod, trying to let Sirius’s words sink in. He wasn’t sure if it would work, but he had to admit—focusing on Quidditch might be better than brooding.
As the match began, Sirius’s advice started to help. Flying through the air, the roar of the crowd, and the adrenaline coursing through his veins almost made him forget the mess he was tangled in. Quidditch always had a way of making the weight on his shoulders feel lighter.
Almost.
At first, he wasn’t paying much attention to the game. His mind wandered back to you, back to everything that had gone wrong. He thought about what he would say, how he could even begin to fix things. And, like always, he couldn’t resist scanning the crowd for you.
Even in the middle of a fight, even when he swore to himself that he was done, James always looked for you in the stands.
And he found you—right where he didn’t want to.
You were sitting with Finn Laurier, your hand clasped in his. James’s stomach twisted painfully at the sight, and he forced himself to look away, though the image burned into his mind.
Of course. Finn fucking Laurier.
He sighed, his grip tightening on his broomstick. There was no point in hoping anymore. Whatever chance he’d had—if he’d ever had one—was gone now. Maybe he’d already been downgraded in your life: a friend at best, a stranger at worst. The thought stung, and James shoved it down, refusing to dwell on it any longer.
And then, something golden caught the corner of his eye.
The Snitch.
For the first time all game, James’s focus snapped into place. He leaned forward on his broom, his heart pounding—not from heartbreak this time, but from the sheer rush of competition. If nothing else, he could still win this. He could still bring home the Cup.
James shot after the Snitch with everything he had, the rush of wind against his face only fueling his determination. The crowd roared, but their voices blurred into the background. His world narrowed to one thing: the golden glimmer darting just ahead.
The Hufflepuff Seeker was hot on his trail, but James barely registered them. This was his moment. The Snitch veered sharply to the right, and James followed, his reflexes razor-sharp. He could feel the weight of his emotions—anger, heartbreak, frustration—all pouring into this chase.
The Snitch dipped low, skimming just above the grass, and James dove after it, his fingers outstretched. The Hufflepuff Seeker was closing in fast, but James didn’t care. He pushed his broom harder, faster, his body leaning forward so much it felt like he might fall off.
And then, his fingers closed around the Snitch.
The Gryffindor stands erupted into cheers, deafening and jubilant. The sound echoed across the pitch as James pulled up, the Snitch held high in triumph. For the first time all week, a genuine smile broke across his face.
He’d done it.
Back on the ground, his teammates swarmed him, yelling and celebrating as they lifted him off the ground in a flurry of hugs and pats on the back. Sirius was the loudest, of course, laughing as he shouted, “That’s my best mate! Did you see that dive? Bloody brilliant!”
James grinned, allowing himself to soak in the moment. But as the initial adrenaline rush faded, his thoughts drifted back to you.
Through the crowd, he spotted you walking toward the castle with Laurier. You looked happy—laughing at something Finn said, your hand still in his.
James’s chest tightened, the pain creeping back in.
Sirius slung an arm around his shoulders. “Oi, don’t let that git ruin your moment. You just won us the Cup, Prongs. Focus on that, yeah?”
James forced a nod, plastering a smile on his face. “Yeah. You’re right.”
But deep down, as the team carried him back to the common room, the ache lingered. Winning the match had been a distraction, but it wasn’t enough to erase what he felt for you—or the sting of seeing you with someone else.
Still, James promised himself one thing: he’d get through this. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but eventually. And who knew? Maybe, someday, you’d see him the way he saw you.
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
The Gryffindor common room was a chaotic blur of red and gold, filled with triumphant cheers and laughter. The moment the team returned from the pitch, the party was already in full swing. Someone had charmed a banner to flash "Gryffindor Wins the Cup!" in shimmering letters, and butterbeer bottles floated around the room, courtesy of a cheeky charm from Sirius.
James stood in the center of it all, grinning as his teammates and housemates patted him on the back and congratulated him. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to bask in the glory of the victory, letting it drown out the knot in his chest. He’d won the game, and Gryffindor had the Cup—he deserved to enjoy it.
“Prongs!” Sirius yelled over the noise, shoving a butterbeer into his hand. “You’re the man of the hour! You better milk this for all it’s worth, because Merlin knows you deserve it.”
James laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t let me hear you say that too often, Padfoot. I might start believing it.”
Sirius gave him a devilish grin. “Oh, you will. Now, c’mon, let’s make some noise!” He climbed onto a table, raising his bottle high. “To Prongs, our Quidditch hero!”
The room erupted in cheers, and James couldn’t help but laugh, taking a sip of his butterbeer as the noise washed over him. For the first time all day, he felt lighter.
As the party went on, James moved through the crowd, chatting and laughing with his housemates. But no matter how loud the celebration got, his eyes kept drifting to the door, half-hoping, half-dreading to see you walk in.
And then, you did.
James froze mid-conversation, his heart doing that familiar stutter-step it always did when he saw you. You looked radiant, wrapped in Gryffindor colors, your cheeks flushed from the cold. But his chest tightened when he noticed Laurier trailing behind you, his hand resting casually on the small of your back.
James quickly turned back to his conversation, forcing a smile and pretending not to notice. He wasn’t going to let Finn Laurier—or his own stupid feelings—ruin the night.
“Oi, Prongs,” Sirius said, appearing at his side again. “Stop moping and do something fun. We just won the bloody Cup, mate! At least pretend you’re having the time of your life.”
James forced another grin. “I am having fun, Padfoot. Loads of fun.”
Sirius narrowed his eyes. “You’re staring at her again, aren’t you?”
“I’m not,” James lied, taking a long sip of butterbeer.
Sirius groaned, grabbing James by the shoulders. “Look, here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to stop torturing yourself, and you’re going to have a bloody fantastic time tonight. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll prank Laurier so hard he won’t know which way is up. Deal?”
James couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking his head. “Alright, deal.”
Hours later, the party was still going strong. Someone had turned the music up, and the common room had transformed into a dance floor. James found himself dragged into the middle of it by Lily Evans, who gave him a pointed look.
“Stop sulking, Potter,” she said, smirking. “You just won the Cup. Act like it.”
“I’m not sulking,” James said, though his half-hearted smile gave him away.
Lily raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. Instead, she tugged him into the rhythm of the music, and for a while, James let himself get lost in the moment.
It wasn’t until he caught sight of you again, laughing at something Laurier said, that the knot in his chest returned. He took a deep breath, plastered on another smile, and decided that, for tonight, he’d keep pretending.
He watched you from across the room as you and Laurier continued talking, laughter bubbling between you two. He could see the way you looked at him now—so different from the way you looked at him before. It was like there was a barrier, a wall that hadn’t been there when he first met you.
“Prongs,” Sirius appeared at his side again, his voice low and concerned. “Look, I know you’ve been through a lot, but this is ridiculous. You’re letting Laurier ruin your night—and you just won us the Cup, for Merlin’s sake. You’re allowed to be happy tonight. So go talk to her. If you don’t, I swear I’ll do it for you.”
James frowned at him, irritated. “I’m not talking to her, Pads. Not now.”
“Then at least get out of here and enjoy yourself,” Sirius pressed. “We’re celebrating, mate. You’ve earned it.”
James looked over at you one more time, and for a second, he almost gave in. But the knot in his chest was still there, tightly wound, and it made everything feel so much harder than it should’ve been.
But maybe... maybe he could find a way to feel better. Maybe he could lose himself in the celebration.
“I’ll think about it,” he finally muttered, glancing at his friends.
Sirius didn’t seem convinced but let out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine, but I’m not letting you go off and brood in some corner. The whole bloody school’s celebrating with you tonight.”
James smirked faintly, feeling a little lighter. Maybe he could pretend to be okay, at least for tonight. He could let the victory, the laughter, and his friends drown out the ache for just a little while longer.
But as the night continued, and as the music played on, James found himself once again looking toward the doorway, hoping—just hoping—that you’d look his way.
For the first time in forever, the world was finally on his side as he saw you quickly leaving Finn and walking straight to him.
“May I speak to you, please?” James nodded, Dumbfounded.
You quickly grabbed his hand and went outside the common room and into the corridors.
You took a deep breath, your fingers twisting nervously. “James… I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while now.”
James’s throat went dry, his pulse quickening as he struggled to find his voice. “Yeah?”
You nodded, glancing down at your hands before meeting his gaze. “I—I’m sorry.”
That wasn’t what he had expected. Of all the scenarios he’d played out in his head, an apology hadn’t been one of them.
“For what?” he asked, genuine confusion coloring his voice.
“For everything,” you said in a rush, your words tumbling out before you could stop them. “For avoiding you. I was confused—about what I did that made you ignore me. And I guess I wanted to get back at you for ignoring me, so I decided to do the same to you. And… I’m sorry for whatever happened between us that made things so weird.”
James stared at you, your vulnerability hitting him like a Bludger to the chest. His heart ached at the uncertainty in your voice.
“You don’t have to apologize,” he said quickly, shaking his head.
“Yes, I do,” you insisted, your voice firm despite the tears welling in your eyes.
“No, you don’t,” James countered, his tone soft yet resolute. “It’s not fair to put all of this on yourself. You’ve always been there for me, and I—well, I’ve been a terrible friend lately. I was practically acting like you didn’t exist.”
James faltered when he saw the blank expression on your face. Panic flickered in his chest—had he said too much?
But before he could say anything more, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him.
“Oh, James,” you murmured into his shoulder. “It’s okay. I—I was acting like you didn’t exist too, but only because you were doing it to me.”
He blinked, caught off guard, before slowly relaxing into the hug. He looked down at you, his hand instinctively reaching up to brush away a stray tear trailing down your cheek.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
You shook your head, a small, watery smile breaking through. “We’re both sorry. Let’s just… not do this anymore, okay?”
James nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Deal.”
“It feels so much better having my best friend around again.” James’ smile faltered again, he never liked the word “best friend” when it came to you, he always wanted more.
“Definitely”
You two let each other talk for what felt like hours even though it was barely fifteen minutes. He enjoyed every second though, until you brought up Finn and future plans they may include him. He couldn't believe it, when had your parents met his? He remembers your dad telling him how much he was rooting you and him to be together, now he's okay with you dating some other dude? And worst of all, your father was okay with that same dude wanting to marry his daughter? James felt like throwing up.
“Then he said that my father laid it out on a silver platter.”
“Laid... what out on a platter?”
“My future! Gave him the blessing to...to propose. I don't know what to do.”
“You told me you don’t mind being married straight after Hogwarts if you truly loved the man. That being a wife and mother... is your dream. Finn is.. nice, and both of your guys’ parents are supportive. I don't understand. What's holding you back?”
“Just… one thing.”
“What am I supposed to do? Everyone else is just... moving on, and now you’re... and I’m still... We never even... And he’s there, and you’re—Merlin, you’re never going to find someone who—” James stopped, his voice cracking. “I know that much, so how... how am I supposed to... I can’t... I— We...”
Before you could speak–a drunk Sirius somehow found you two. “Woah James you're really speaking to her? Atta boy, now, let's get back to the party, cmon, we are going to do something cool, have you heard of ....” Sirius rambled on, tugging on James’ arm to drag him back to the party.
“I’ll be off, then.” You said, voice quivering as if hesitant to leave.
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
All James could think about was the previous night—the talk you two had shared. Your words, your voice, the hesitation in your eyes—it all replayed in his mind like a haunting melody. What would’ve happened if Sirius hadn’t barged in, if James had told him to leave, if he’d been brave enough to stay in that moment with you?
“I think…” James began, his voice breaking as he paced the Gryffindor dormitory, “I think she might’ve been asking if I love her. And—and I think I told her to marry someone else.”
Sirius, slouched in the chair by the window, looked stricken. “Mate…” he started, his tone heavy with guilt. “If I’d known—if I knew what was happening—I wouldn’t have gone looking for you. I—I practically ruined your chances. Merlin, I’m so, so sorry.”
James stopped pacing, running a hand through his already-messy hair. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t even know if she meant it. She said so much without really saying anything, and now I don’t know if I imagined it all.”
“‘Sure, take option two,’ when option one is all she wants for her future?” James muttered, his voice thick with frustration.
“What is option one?” Peter asked, his curiosity breaking the tension.
James scoffed, bitterness creeping into his tone. “It’s Finn, obviously.” He paused, his anger flaring. “But both their parents support it, and she told me that! Before she spilled all of that on me, we were talking and laughing like nothing was wrong. But now…” He exhaled sharply, his voice softening as he sat down on the edge of his bed. “Now it feels like I’m being asked to explain the rest of my life on a bloody ticking clock. And if I make the wrong decision, I’ve either ruined my life—or hers.”
The room fell silent. Sirius and Peter exchanged uneasy glances, while Remus seemed lost in thought, unsure of how to respond.
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
Meanwhile, you had confided in your mother about your plans the night before: to finally tell the man you truly loved how you felt. You hadn’t wanted to bring it up while you and James were laughing and enjoying each other’s company, but you knew if you didn’t seize the moment, you’d never say it at all.
What you hadn’t expected was for him to turn you down. To tell you—calmly, almost dismissively—that you should marry Finn.
Your mother was waiting for your response. You knew she expected good news, a letter confirming that you and James were finally together. Instead, you sat at your desk, penning words that left a bitter taste in your mouth.
Dear Mother,
I did what you told me to do, but I fear I shouldn’t have. We were talking just fine, and then I told him everything. I told him how I felt. And he told me to marry Finn.
Finn is lovely, yes—but he’s not James. I asked James if there was any chance for us, and he said no. At least now I have clarity on where I stand with him. And I know it sounds awful to compare Finn to James, but... maybe knowing what I know now, I can learn to be happy with Finn. Father and Finn’s family are all thrilled, after all. I don’t even want to think about what I would’ve done if James had said he felt the same.
You sighed, folding the parchment carefully and sealing it in an envelope. The weight of your words sat heavily on your chest, but you couldn’t dwell on them any longer. You needed to send this letter immediately.
Pulling on your cloak, you found yourself heading for one of the secret passages to Hogsmeade—the ones you and James had used so often. The memories stung, but you pushed them aside. This time, you’d be using the passage alone.
The quickest way to deliver your letter was through the owlery. You knew exactly which owl was the fastest.
As you walked, you let your mind wander to James one last time, allowing yourself the quiet ache of what could’ve been. You would never speak to him again, not like before. That part of your life was over.
Finn was your future now. And while it hurt to admit, deep down, you knew it was for the best.
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Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.4k
Warnings: Language, angst, anxiety? Let me know if there's more!
A/N 💌 Part one is finally here, thank you for all being so patient with me and I promise the future parts will be better!
Interaction keeps me motivated to write, so I would love to hear your thoughts!
Series Masterlist!
The Great Hall is thrumming with activity as the anticipation of the new school year sets in.
Sunlight pours through the windows, casting a warm, golden hue onto the tables and cold walls. The clinking of cutlery melds with the lively chatter and bursts of laughter that permeate the hall. Students eagerly catch up with their friends after the summer break, their faces illuminated with excitement and anticipation for the year ahead.
"I don’t know if I’m quite ready for this year." You admit softly. Lily, seated to your left, casts a surprised glance in your direction. Your tone carries a hint of nervousness, a stark difference from your usual excitement for the new school year.
As seventh year begins, the reality of it all felt surreal, almost as if time had slipped through your fingers without warning. Contemplating life beyond Hogwarts seemed daunting, a foggy landscape you weren't quite prepared to navigate. The thought of a future without the familiar halls and comforting routines left you feeling unsettled. Questions about your path post-Hogwarts lingered causing anxiety to tighten in your stomach. The uncertainty of what lay ahead, and where your friendships would stand in the grand scheme of things, clouded your mind.
"Because this is the year you find your soulmate?" Marlene's question hung in the air, causing your stomach to sink even further.
Soulmates were tethered by a thread, an intangible connection that tightens with proximity, drawing them closer by an irresistible pull. As their 18th birthday approached, the magnetic pull between soulmates intensified, drawing them closer together in an undeniable bond.
Even in their younger years, soulmates could sense the faint tug of their connection, though it often was difficult to discern between fleeting infatuation and the unbreakable bond between soulmates. However, as the milestone birthday drew nearer, the pull became unmistakable, a magnetic force guiding them to their soulmate.
At least, that's what you've heard from those who have experienced it firsthand.
“I don’t know if I’m ready for that.” You confirm, and Lily sends you an understanding look. Neither of you had found your soulmates, while Marlene had found her soulmate in Dorcas.
The timing of finding one's soulmate varied greatly from person to person. Some discovered theirs early on in life, while others didn't find theirs until mere days before their 18th birthday. It all depended on the person and how open they were to the connection.
"We'll be going through it together." Lily says, her smile soft as she bumped her shoulder against yours. It did offer some comfort. Lily Evans had been your best friend since first year, and the thought of her being by your side made the upcoming year feel a bit more bearable.
"What if James is your soulmate?" You ask, your tone laced with playful teasing. However, Lily's hopeful expression catches you off guard, prompting you to shift your gaze towards Marlene in shock. Across the table, Marlene and Dorcas appear just as taken aback by Lily's unexpected reaction. It's a stark contrast from the adamant denials she would have offered last year.
"Maybe he is." Lily says quietly, her tone nonchalant as she offers a simple shrug, as if what she just said isn't a big deal.
“Are you..When did this happen?” Dorcas asks, and you and Marlene eye Lily curiously.
Since the moment you met him, Lily had been skillfully evading James's advances, urging him to seek out his true soulmate rather than pursuing her. Despite Lily's dismissals, James remained steadfast in his belief that she was the one destined for him. Deep down, you sensed a potential soulmate connection between them, but you never brought up the subject with Lily, knowing she would vehemently deny the idea.
Lily looks up with feigned innocence, “What?”
Marlene sighs, “Lily Evans, don’t you dare play dumb. When did your feelings towards James change?”
"I don’t know. Over the summer, I guess, I realized I’ve been a bit unfair to him," She sighs. "He’s been nothing but kind, and I’ve just blown him off. And honestly, he was on my mind most of the summer."
"Merlin, we've barely been here for two hours, and the soulmate bonds are already starting." Marlene grins, amused.
"I didn't say I thought he was mine!" Lily cries out.
"You said maybe. That heavily implies that you do." You chuckle at the panicked look on Lily’s face, fully aware that she's going to be teased about this relentlessly.
"Have you felt a pull with him?" Dorcas asks, and Lily's cheeks flush with a delicate shade of pink.
“I mean, yes. But couldn’t that just be the annoyance I feel towards him half the time?” Lily asks.
"With that logic, you and Sirius are soulmates." Marlene interjects, her grin mischievous as she takes a sip of her tea, her gaze fixed on you over the brim of her mug. Your expression sours at the mere mention of his name, a subtle shift in mood palpable in the air.
“There is no way that Sirius Black is my soulmate.” You snark, the mere thought of Sirius causing your stomach to knot with intense emotion. Hatred, you conclude.
It's the mere mention of Sirius Black that tends to stir up the worst in you. His name alone triggers a cascade of emotions within you, igniting a visceral reaction that you struggle to contain. Just the thought of him is enough to set your nerves on edge, reminding you of past conflicts and tensions that still linger beneath the surface.
It's not as though you hadn't attempted to be friendly with Sirius. Shortly after your arrival at Hogwarts, James Potter had introduced himself to you and Lily in the Gryffindor common room. He was accompanied by Remus, and while James eagerly engaged Lily in conversation, you found yourself drawn to Remus, the two of you hitting it off. You chatted for what felt like hours, so engrossed in your conversation that you barely noticed Sirius and Peter entering the common room.
However, the moment your eyes landed on Sirius, it felt as though the air had been knocked out of your lungs. For a brief second you had wondered if he was your soulmate. Everything blurred into a hazy backdrop, your eyes unable to part from his figure.
Remus didn’t miss the way you seemed to drift away from the conversation, your gaze fixed on Sirius as he made his way over to where you all were seated. You and Remus occupied the couch, while Lily and James were comfortable in their own armchairs. Sirius and Peter hovered nearby, a curious expression etched across their features, clearly unsure who the two unfamiliar girls engaged in conversation with their friends were.
Remus had introduced you while James and Lily remained preoccupied, not yet noticing the two boys, "Mates, this is Y/n," Remus had said, his warm smile welcoming.
Peter had been friendly and eager, extending his hand with enthusiasm as he shared a bit about himself. But Sirius remained silent, his expression etched with a subtle frown. When you attempted to engage him in conversation, he responded with curt one-word answers, leaving you feeling increasingly self-conscious, questioning what you might have done wrong.
Remus had assured you that Sirius wasn't usually like that, and he promised that the next time you saw him, he would likely be more talkative and outgoing. You clung to hope, eagerly anticipating a change in Sirius' demeanor, only to be met with disappointment when his behavior remained unchanged. In the company of others, he exuded friendliness, cracking jokes and radiating outgoing energy.
Yet, when his attention turned to you, he completely shifted, hardly communicating and barely sparing you a glance.
You couldn't figure out what you might have done wrong. From the moment you met Sirius, you had been nothing but friendly, offering a warm smile and introducing yourself with genuine enthusiasm. Lily, who shared many similarities with you, greeted Sirius in much the same manner, yet he responded to her without hesitation. It left you wondering: what had been so different about your interaction with him?
Over time, frustration crept in, and you found yourself growing increasingly sarcastic or curt in your interactions with him. Before long, your relationship devolved into incessant bickering and exchanging snide comments.
Any inkling that Sirius might be your soulmate was swiftly forgotten.
"Oi! Princess! You talking about me over there?" Sirius' voice cuts through the chatter, drawing your attention to the Marauders down the table. His cocky smirk meets your gaze, and for a fleeting moment, you wonder if he overheard your conversation. But he's too far away to have eavesdropped, yet close enough to call out to you, and his voice effortlessly grabs the attention of quite a few other students at the Gryffindor table.
The students in your year hardly flinch, accustomed to the heated banter that often erupted between you and Sirius. Observing the familiar fighting between you and Sirius was almost expected; it wouldn't have felt like the first day of school without it for some of the students.
“Not everything revolves around you, Black.” You retort, rolling your eyes at his arrogance. Anger begins to simmer within you, heat radiating through your body as frustration builds.
You assume he must have just noticed you, considering you've been had a peaceful morning so far. But little did you know, Sirius had fixed his gaze on you the moment he entered the hall, and he's been eager to get under your skin. Anything to capture your attention.
Sirius, undeterred, flashes a grin that seems to stretch from ear to ear. “So mean already. Didn’t you miss me? The months without you were unbearable.” He calls, his tone dripping with amusement, clearly deriving great enjoyment from riling you up.
“Do you really think I spend my free time thinking about you?” You're sending him an irritated frown, but your eyes are lit up with a fire that's reserved only for him. It's the same look you get every time the two of you fight, and he loves it.
"I think you do, princess. I think I drive you crazy.” He declares with that smug grin plastered on his face, igniting a burning sensation in your stomach.
You remain silent, too consumed by anger to muster a response. His words strike a chord because, deep down, you know he's right. He has a way of driving you to the brink of frustration. You have wracked your brain, relentlessly trying to decipher why he harbors such animosity towards you and where you might have gone wrong with him.
You're momentarily caught off guard, your mind racing to come up with a response that doesn't betray your irritation, much less let Sirius think he's gotten to you. Fortunately, Remus swiftly engages him in conversation, likely sensing the tension brewing on your face.
"I'm telling you, there's a connection there." Marlene insists, and you shoot her a glare, prompting a laugh to escape her lips.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
The initial night back at Hogwarts always proved the most challenging for you. It took a few nights before you could finally settle into the unfamiliar bed and drift off to sleep without difficulty. The weight of it being your final year lingered heavily in your mind, along with the daunting task of uncovering your soulmate.
Seated before the crackling fire, you enveloped yourself in the warmth of your blanket, captivated by the dancing of the flames. Your silent wish lingered in the air - that, perhaps, if you remained in this cozy atmosphere long enough, fatigue would gradually claim you.
"Up late thinking of me, princess?" Sirius's voice breaks the silence, causing your body to tense reflexively. You shoot him a glare over your shoulder as he settles into the floor beside you, his gaze fixed on the flickering flames instead of meeting yours.
"What are you doing?" You quip, your tone laced with irritation. Sirius glances in your direction, leaning back on his palms with a subtle smirk playing on his lips. Amusement dances in his eyes as he takes in your furrowed brows and the unmistakable look of irritation etched across your features.
“Warming up. It’s rather cold in the dorm,” He says, before glancing down at the blanket that’s wrapped around your figure. “Care to share? ”
“Get fucked,” You huff, pulling the blanket tighter around your figure, your gaze fixed on the fireplace as you ignore Sirius's laughter, “Why are you sitting here? Go somewhere else.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“I’m not in the mood to deal with you.” You snark, your hopes of relaxing by the fire dashed by the unexpected disruption.
“And when are you?” Sirius's tone carries a teasing edge, and a mischievous grin tugs at his lips as he observes your bristling reaction.
He longs for you to turn and meet his gaze, to shoot him the scathing glare he's so accustomed to receiving.
You turn sharply, your eyes narrowing into thin slits as you fix them on Sirius, a silent warning brewing in your gaze. There she is, he thinks.
“Go somewhere else.” You repeat, staring Sirius down.
“No.” He declares, shifting his position to squarely face you, leaving no doubt that he has no intention of backing down or leaving anytime soon.
“What’s your problem?” You grit out your words, and Sirius narrows his eyes at you as though you've struck a nerve. His reaction is swift, catching you off guard. While you and Sirius have always engaged in banter, he had never looked at you with such palpable hatred before.
“You.” He snaps, his voice dripping with disdain, devoid of its usual teasing lilt that never fails to irk you. Instead, his expression morphs into one of genuine animosity, a stark departure from the usual banter that fuels your frustration.
“Why? What have I ever done to you?” You're worked up now, your heart thumping with frustration as you pivot to fully face him. In your angered state, you miscalculate the proximity between you, and you're startled to find yourselves mere inches apart. Neither of you budges, both refusing to back away, as doing so would feel like conceding defeat.
Neither of you speaks, the air heavy with tension as you stare at each other through narrowed eyes, chests heaving with unresolved emotions. And in a heart-stopping moment, you feel it—the undeniable tug, the unspoken connection between you.
Your mouth parts in surprise, caught off guard by the intensity of the moment. Before you can truly react, Sirius rises abruptly and strides back to his room, leaving you sitting in stunned silence by the fireplace.
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i think this screenshot is a sign to post chapter 10 (😘)
I think you're right👀👀👀
Description: Your rooftop rendezvous with Spiderman. NSFW content below the cut
“He phrased it all wrong, good girls don’t suck dick, they take cock.” Miguel says it slowly, and seductively, watching as your breathing hitches, your heart rate speeds up, and your body temperature rises.
“Yeah?” You ask, half breathless, your hand settling on the blanket right next to his knee.
He nods, twirling a lock of your hair around his finger. “Yeah, they look all pretty, and take all the pleasure you can give them, until they’re a beautiful, babbling mess.”
“O-oh…” Your face is adorable, eyes looking anywhere but his masked face.
“Look at me.” He orders, lightly, not to scare you, never to scare you.
Your eyes flicker to his, and he preens under your gaze, his free hand wrapping around your waist, fingers splayed across your clothed skin. “Good girl.”
He sees you rub your thighs together ever so slightly, and it drives him wild. He can’t fuck you, you have a boyfriend, and you don’t even know it’s Miguel under the mask, it wouldn’t be the same. But he does have another idea.
He trails his hands down your body, watching your face for any signs of fear.
“What else did he phrase wrong?” You ask with an adorable nervousness coloring your tone.
He can tell you want him, not just because his suit is giving him your bio signs, but by the way you inhale, and the way you lean towards him, hanging onto his every word.
He brushes a thumb over your lips. “How long has it been since he’s tasted you?” You avert your eyes, and he lightly taps your cheek with his forefinger. “Don’t turn from me Querida, I want to see those pretty eyes.”
You do as he says, and he hums in satisfaction, moving his hand to cup your face, thumb still resting on the center of your lips.
“So long, Spiderman.” You breathe, your lips moving against his thumb.
“Corazón.” He says, “not Spiderman, not now.”
You repeat the word after him, a little clumsily, but the sound of it makes him hide his face in your neck, his fangs begging to break through and claim you.
“It’s been so long, corazón.” You say, once he raises his head.
“Allow me to repent for his sins, then.”
Your eyes are wide, lips parting in surprise when his hands leave your face to grasp your thighs, pulling you forward, the bottom half of his mask dissolving once he’s lined up with your clothed core.
He’s dreaming, he has to be. You’re there before him, pretty little sundress bunched up around your hips, damp cloth covering that perfect pussy he’s seen night after night in your bathroom mirror.
“Oh Querida, you smell so good.” He presses kisses to your thighs, careful not to do more than nip you, mindful of the venom in his fangs.
“Corazón, please…” Your voice is quiet, but he can smell your arousal, and he rips off your underwear, tracking where it falls, intent on taking it home with him.
And then he feasts, large hands holding your thighs apart, as he devours you, tongue like silk through your folds, moaning at the taste, his lips wrapping around your clit.
You gasp at the feeling, and it goes straight to his cock.
“I don’t—fuck, um, I haven’t really shaved, and you really don’t need to all this for me, I mean Todd told me guys don’t like it when…” You’re nervous, insecure, and it breaks his heart.
He pulls back, pressing soft kisses to your skin before he rests his head on your thigh, giving you a reassuring smile. “It’s okay y/n, let me take care of you, forget what Todd says, focus on me.”
“Yeah, but what about—" You’re cut off by him diving back in, mouthing at your core like a man starved, and your eyes flutter shut.
You taste divine, and he needs more. He locks his arms around your thighs, his hands spread on your soft skin, his nose brushing your clit. “You’re so pretty, Querida, so perfect.”
“Corazón, corazón, I need more, please…” You beg, hands grabbing at his shoulders, your nails digging into the fabric of his suit.
“Anything, mi vida, I’ll give you anything.” He promises, as he plunges his tongue into your entrance, his words vibrate against you, and he moans when your walls clench around him.
“You, corazón, I want you.” You gasp, bucking your hips against his face, smearing your juices over his skin.
He could die like this and be content, but he wants more, he wants to see how desperate he can make you.
“Get on top of me.” He orders, not giving you time to react, instead Miguel holds you up with one arm and lies on his back.
He has you facing the street, hands able to find purchase on the ledge, as he pulls you down, the scent of you flooding his senses, your thighs framing his head.
“Spid—” He pulls you down further, seating you fully on top of him, lips and tongue working in tandem to drive you closer and closer to your peak, his suit growing tighter and tighter as you pant and whine above him.
“Corazón, please, touch me.” Your head is hanging down, he can see the way your eyes are screwed shut, your expression is all he imagined while he watched you pleasure yourself, and now he gets to see it—be the cause of it.
He drinks you in, slipping two fingers in to aid his tongue, and your eyes fly open, locking with his.
You’re so beautiful, truly he thinks you might be an angel, a goddess, a succubus, with the way you begin to ride his face, rutting against his nose, crying his pretend name over and over again.
“You sound so beautiful, mi reina, sing for me.” He pleads, grinding your hips down on him.
Your eyes flutter shut once more. “I—fuck, Miguel, I—”
You’re singing for him. His name slipping from your lips unknowingly, and he loses it, free arm wrapping around your waist, his tongue bullying your clit, his fingers finding that spot within you, in a record time, he applauds himself for that, and curls against it mercilessly, a punishing pace that has you screaming.
“Miguel, I can’t, it’s too much, Miguel—” Your words are resistant, but you grind down on him, making no attempts to escape him.
“Lo siento, querida, no puedo parar, no puedo. Sabes demasiado buena” He strokes the clothed skin of your back to comfort you, his words muffled by your pleading. Trsl: I’m sorry, sweetheart/my dear, I can’t stop, I can’t. You taste too good.
Then you crash, your muscles tightening, hips moving wildly, and then you go boneless and Miguel slides from under you, wrapping his lips around his fingers and savoring the taste.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—I’m so embarrassed, that isn’t even your name and—”
He tilts your chin up, and presses his thumb to your lips, like a vixen you part them unconsciously, and he groans, his cock aching. “No apology needed; I understand.”
“No but really I—”
“Y/N.” He warns playfully, the lower half of his masks reappearing.
You fall silent, and he feels a slow curl of lust. How obedient could you be? If he stayed to find out, he’d fuck you on this dirty roof, and he refused to debase you in such a way.
“Good girl, now go inside and get some rest.” Then he stands and swings away, desperate to find a quiet corner and take care of himself, your ripped underwear tucked safely away.
Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @imisshim2much, @wanderlustingcastaway, @lynn-9703, @sleepyamaya, @erensbbg, @sweetea85, @ilovemiguelohara, @natthernandez, @stxrrielle, @ihateuguys, @jenniferdixon05207, @blep-23, @luvisaaxoxo, @minimari415, @emerald-09, @violet-19999, @kenchosaikuo, @groovycass, @youcantseem3, @lovefks, @nightshxdex, @dusstory, @aesniri, @munsonssecretblog, @kirke-is-my-name, @starbearieee, @chatoicboy, @act1839, @needsleep3000, @totally-not-georgia, @witchy-lizard, @cxmeiloorun7, @justrandomlolidk, @chimpkinnuggies
Aww, my little boys !! <3
hi so. this album is everything and as such, i figured that i would do my first ever album collection to pair with such a masterpiece! olivia rodrigo truly can create such masterful storytelling - and i think all i can offer in repose to you all are some fics!
i’ll do the best i can to do a fic a week, if i get derailed you MAY bully me but only lightly because my ego is fragile and i will cry. unless you like roast me artfully then i’ll just be impressed aNYWAYS, here we go!
brutal - harry potter x reader
traitor - james potter x reader
driver’s license - kit walker x reader (non hp!)
1 step forward, 3 steps back - remus lupin
deja vu - fred weasley x reader
good 4 u - roger davies x reader
enough for you - charlie weasley
happier - george weasley x reader
jealousy, jealousy - steve harrington x reader (non hp!)
favorite crime - fred weasley x reader
hope ur okay - sirius black x reader
tagging some moots to spread the word! 🌸 @cherrybarzy @anchoeritic @tatesimper @kitwalker02 @billyhxrgrove @wandsandwheezes @lumosandnoxwriting @feetoffthetablee @harrysweasleys @sinfulweasley @sunrisefairy @diary-of-an-onliner
02: Barbie's Dreamhouse.
Joel Miller x f!bimbo!reader. previous. series masterlist. next.
02. Strawberry Lemonade.
warnings: reader stares at joel a lot and finds him hot as hell, reader is dramatic as hell (might be annoying to some), explicit thoughts, suggestive, sarah is alive and 12 years old here, reader thinks she's a homewrecker, not beta read.
summary: you just can't help but gawk at your hot contractor who's working for free, thank god the view is free too. but a revelation makes you question if you're lusting for a married man.
reader's outfit is the blue one of the dolls from the barbie movie (this one under)
You had settled on the couch on the second-floor balcony with a glass and pitcher of cold lemonade and a few snacks, while Joel was up on the roof, using a ladder to climb up to the edges.
There was no mistaking his experience— he made little noise at all, moving around the structure as if it were just another Tuesday. Despite his hardass appearance, he was a very skilled worker.
He eventually climbed down from the roof and headed inside, taking a second to catch his breath before spotting you upstairs.
He was immediately thrown off by the adorable dress— especially the heart detail. But he knew it was rude to stare, so he did his best to keep his eyes on yours.
"That… was actually a lot quicker than I thought it would be," Joel said, clearly pleased. "I should have the rest of the replacement shingles put on in no time at all…"
"Are they pink?" you giggled.
"They're white but I painted over the roof last time, I'll just paint over em' some other day."
"I got some snacks for us. I tested the fridge and it was working too." you poured him a glass of lemonade. "Here, cool off."
Joel took the drink. The cool liquid was very much appreciated after all of that hard work. He took a few swigs from his glass before he looked you over again.
"Thank you…" He nodded, clearly still unable to tear his eyes away from your dress. "Where'd you stay last night?"
"I found a nearby bed and breakfast beside a gasoline station. At least they didn't question why I was all dirty when I checked in." you giggled. "So, what's next?"
"Hmm… the plumbin'. I’m assuming it hasn’t been fixed." Joel's brow furrowed slightly. “The main shutoff doesn’t work very well, so if there’s a leak, you won’t be able to do anything about it. That’s pretty much a priority.”
"Oh, right. Um... so what do we do?"
"Well, we’ve got to find the shutoff for now," Joel said as he set his drink down. It was clear he hadn’t done much plumbing in his life, but from the times he had worked on it, it was also clear he was quite skillful when it came to repairs.
"Follow me. The main one should be in the basement, from what I remember."
"Alright! Lead the way."
You follow Joel as he headed down the stairs into the basement— it was pretty cluttered down there, with lots of old junk strewn around. As he made his way across the room to the back wall, he grabbed an old flashlight and turned it on.
"Hopefully, the shutoff valve ain't coated in any rust," he muttered. "But if it is, might be tougher than expected…"
Sure enough, he found the right valve, but it was covered in that awful orange rust and was completely stuck. He frowned as he studied it.
"Oh… that ain't good. This could be a problem…"
"Oh no... what do we do?"
He looked at you and shrugged.
"We could apply some WD-40 to it and hope that loosens it up. But that’s a long shot. In all honesty, I think we’re gon' need to hire a professional plumber to come in and see what can be done about this."
"Well, uh..." you trailed off. Joel watched as you fidgeted with your fingers as your body grew stiff.
Joel could tell that you were trying your best not to worry, but he really couldn’t come up with any alternative. As much as he hated to ask, he really didn’t think there was another way around it.
"I'll cover it. Don't worry."
"Thank you, Joel." you put your hands behind your back and smiled cheekily at him.
In the course of the next few weeks, Joel hired workers from an electrician to install the chandelier and fix the wiring, to plumbers to fix the plumbing issue. With his own money, nonetheless.
"Thank you, seriously, Joel..." You stared up at the pink jewels dangling off the chandelier in awe.
Joel chuckled softly and was about to respond, but he paused, realizing just how many times he’s heard those same words in just a few weeks.
"You don't have to thank me so much, you know. This was nothing"
"I mean, giving thanks is always a basic human thing." you smiled and placed both of your hands on your hips. "Appreciation can do amazing things."
There was another pause. He shrugged and smirked. "I mean… are you always this appreciative?" he asked, trying to hide his smile.
"Of course! Why wouldn't I?"
"I dunno, I've just never known anyone who can be this appreciative, you know? It’s definitely not something I'm used to hearing…"
There was another pause as he was contemplating what to say.
"It’s just that… you're never gonna make me feel bad for it or anything, right?"
Your shoulders dropped and you tilted your head to the side. "Why would I?"
He sighed.
"I dunno. It's just that most people I know like to take advantage of or make me feel bad for what I do for them. You know, like always makin' me feel like I should do more just because I'm helpin' in the first place. But you don't ever act like that, and… well, I dunno. I guess I haven't been used to it."
"Why would they do such a thing?" you looked offended, furrowing your brows.
"I've always just been surrounded by assholes. I guess it's what's really normal for me. But with you… I mean, the difference is staggerin', isn't it? I guess I'm just now realizin' just how shitty most people that I've known actually are."
You smiled and walked towards him. "And how many people did you offer to fix their house for free?"
He laughed as he thought about it.
"Never before have I offered something like that. Usually, it's more like helpin' 'em fix their car or somethin' like that. So honestly, this is new territory for both of us. Though, even then, you're still much more appreciative than just about anyone I’ve ever come across."
"But I do promise," you held out your pinky finger with a wide smile. "I will pay you back soon."
For some reason, the pinky finger was funny to him. Maybe it was just that you were so genuinely innocent in your promise, or the contrast between how serious of a situation this could potentially be and you being so playful. He took your pinky finger and wrapped his own around yours. He looked you over.
"Do you swear? Because if you don't, there's about to be hell to pay. I take pinky promises quite seriously."
"That's so fun! I always keep my promises."
"I know you will. So this right here is a sign of a promise. And I trust that you will be able to keep that promise, so I don't need you to repay me right away."
"I promise. Cross my heart, hope to die."
He laughed and nodded, his smile growing as he squeezed slightly harder around your pinky. "Okay then. Just remember, you break this pinky promise, and I won't hesitate to let you know just how disappointed I am."
You let out a giggle after letting go of his pinky "Ooooh, I'm so scared."
He laughed as well.
"I think you should be! I'm not usually one to joke around when it comes to stuff like this." he chuckled again. "But just so you know, even though I'd be pretty angry, I really wouldn't have it in me to stay mad at you. You know that by now, right?"
"Why?" you batted your eyelashes at him "Is it because I'm preeeeetty?"
He was trying really hard to suppress his smile and hold back from laughing.
"It is indeed because I think you are pretty…. But I can't deny the fact that you've also become really good at pushin' out my buttons. Even if I really should be furious 'bout all the money I spent on this house, you make it tough not to just smile back at 'cha and forgive ya."
"I know, I'm sorryyyy..." you clasped your hands together and dramatically knelt down in front of him.
He chuckled. "Well, I really mean it. Your personality is one of the most refreshin' personalities I've ever come across in a long time. And I never would have even met you if it weren't for this house and Mags. That has to count for somethin', right?"
"Sentimental value?"
"Yeah, exactly. It's like the universe knew I needed someone like you in my life. Who knew a house could actually lead to a meaningful relationship… I definitely didn't see that comin'."
"The world works in mysterious ways." you shrugged. "Keep up, old man."
Joel laughed louder. There was something about you calling him an old man that he loved, even though he should be offended.
"Watch it, before you start makin' this old man feel his age. My body is just now startin' to fall apart on me, don't give it a reason to start fallin' apart faster than it already is!"
The both of you laughed. You got up from the floor and fixed your dress "So, is there anything else the house needs?"
Joel thought for a moment, finally coming to the realization that the house was probably good for now. It'd definitely need some more work on the interior in time, but at the least, it was liveable.
"Honestly? No, I don't believe there is. I think this house is good for now. I'll keep doin' my check-ins every few weeks or so to make sure that everythin' is alright with the house, but besides that, there's really nothin' more we need to do here."
"So..." you fiddled with your fingers. "What do we do now?"
Joel shrugged. "I'm not sure. I guess we just have ourselves a nice, long moment of standin' here and being proud of the fact that we've both survived the experience of trying to renovate this damn house. It’s a miracle either of us has our sanity still intact."
He laughed as he leaned up against the wall of the dining room.
"You know, you've spent a lot of time here. I've never even seen the inside of your house." you giggled.
"You know you're not wrong, I was here almost every day for weeks on end." his eyes trailed off as he thought and sighed. "I guess I should invite you over sometime then, right? It's not nearly as interesting as this house, but I'm sure you'd love it."
"My house is pink. Big deal." you rolled your eyes and walked towards him, leaning against the kitchen wall "You know every nook and cranny of my house, of course, I deserve to know yours."
"It's only fair."
"Indeed."
You kept staring at Joel. He had some beads of sweat falling from his scalp to his face, and god did he look hotter than hell. You felt like a Victorian lady seeing an ankle.
"Are you single-" your question got muffled by the sound of the doorbell, and turn your head towards the door "Coming!" you said.
You walked towards the door and swung it open, greeted by a young girl. "Hi, is my dad here?"
Your brows furrowed. "Dad?" who could possibly-
"Sarah," Joel said from behind you. Your head immediately snapped towards him and your eyes widened like a deer in headlights. "Have you met my daughter?" he asked you.
You blinked twice. "I-I don't think I have."
You really had no idea he even was a father... or even considered, married.
Sarah looked around the room in awe, her eyes trailing all across the furniture and her expression changing several times as she looked.
"Did you fix this house all by yourself?" she asked Joel, her eyes wide.
Joel cleared his throat and nodded. "Yeah. I rebuilt this whole house pretty much myself— minus the plumbin' and electrician work, which I had hired some guys for. We still have to go through planning on each room, but it's almost done." he pointed towards you. "She's still thinkin' about what to do with all these rooms."
Sarah's facial expression changed to a small smile as she giggled. She turned her head towards you. "Daddy tells me a lot about you. He says you're so nice. The nicest lady he's ever met. Was it all true?”
You were still in a shocked state but you shook your head a bit and gave her a smile. "Why don't you be the judge of that?"
"You're really pretty..." Sarah stared in awe at you.
"Hey, didn't you say you gotta pick up your Girl Scout cookies today?" Joel looked at his wristwatch. "We gotta hurry if you wanna start sellin' 'em tomorrow."
"Oh, right!"
Joel and Sarah waved goodbye to you as they walked out of your house, and you stood there on your porch questioning everything.
"He's... married?" you closed the front door and walked up the stairs, slowly and dramatically. You tried to think of the signs that he was married. Ring? You didn't even notice! Well, not counting the times you stared at his large fingers and imagined them inside of you...
"Oh, god..." the realization hit you. You entered the main bedroom and you fell to your knees. "I'm a homewrecker!" you cried out.
tags: @danaispunk @buckybarnessweetheart @skysmiller @joelsflannel @sweetenerobert @clownd1ck @jhiddles03 @schwytie @femmeanonymelives @redemie @pedropascal-whore @hello-shirousa @survivingandenduring @sk-e-le-ton-s @urbrazysimp @amyispxnk @clownd1ck @livingdeadmaria @joeldjarin @blood-suckerxoxo @reallylovereading
(tags are open! just reply to be added. reblogs are appreciated!)