Happy birthday to the wonderful, amazing and beautiful Lily Evans—a strong and powerful woman who ended the first war and one of the cleverest in her year. Yeah, she's hot, badass, and a total girlboss, but what people don't talk about enough is that she's also soft-hearted and sometimes insecure. She's so clever, but she feels like the only reason she gets good grades is that she overworks herself more than anyone else because she doesn't believe she's naturally gifted.
She tells the bullies she doesn’t give a damn when they call her a Mudblood, but secretly, sometimes, she wonders if she really is less capable because of her blood or if she could ever truly compare to the pureblood wizards, even though she works twice as hard to prove them wrong.
Lily has a way of making everyone feel special, but she sometimes struggles to feel special herself. She pours so much energy into lifting others up that she often forgets to let herself rest. She’s the kind of person who would stay up all night helping someone with their problems, even if she’s drowning in her own.
She notices things about people that no one else does: the quiet student who feels invisible, the friend trying to hide their tears, or even the boy who always seems so confident but gets this look in his eyes when he thinks no one’s watching.
She’s so incredibly easy to love, and I don’t think she ever truly realized it—how quickly James fell for her, how Snape fell too hard, how the teachers spoke about her with so much admiration, how much she meant to Remus, how much Sirius missed her once she was gone, how much Harry needed her. And surely, there were so many others who loved her.
synopsis: the avengers seem really desperate as they come to you—the person who went under their skin like no one else to help them win against hydra. while they are walking on eggshells around you, you are having fun causing chaos.
warnings: mentions of y/n (maybe), blood, violence, gore, sexual assault
word count: 3.9k
chapter: 10/?
series masterlist
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ THE SUN WAS SETTING, casting long shadows over the quiet, empty road as you and Bucky drove on, the old Cadillac’s engine humming as it sped down the rural highway. The landscape was sparse, fields stretching on either side of the road, with only the occasional farmhouse breaking up the horizon.
As the car rounded a bend, you spotted two figures up ahead—a couple standing by the roadside, looking a little worse for wear and waving their hands in an attempt to flag down a ride. You instinctively tensed, narrowing your eyes as you watched them. Something about it felt… off.
“Keep driving,” you muttered under your breath, eyeing the couple suspiciously.
But Bucky slowed the car, giving you a sidelong glance. “They look stranded. It’ll be fine.”
You let out a quiet huff, still watching them closely as the car slowed to a stop. “Fine,” you muttered, reluctantly. “But keep your eyes open.”
The couple hurried over, expressions of relief plastered across their faces as they climbed into the back seat, each settling into their spots with quick, grateful smiles.
“Thanks so much!” the guy said as he jogged up to the car. “Our car broke down a few miles back, and my phone’s dead. We just need a ride to the next town.”
“Sure, hop in,” Bucky replied, giving you a reassuring nod as they settled into the back seat.
As he pulled back onto the road, you leaned back in your seat, watching the couple through the rearview mirror. They were sitting a bit too straight, their eyes darting to each other every now and then, like they were keeping up a silent conversation. Something about their body language felt… practiced.
The guy noticed you staring and gave a polite smile, but there was a glint in his eyes that didn’t quite fit the friendly image. You smirked to yourself and casually unbuckled your seatbelt, causing Bucky to give you a sideways look.
“What are you doing?” he muttered under his breath.
Ignoring him, you turned around in your seat, eyeing the couple with a grin that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “You know,” you began, voice low and calm, “for two people hitching a ride, you sure seem pretty unprepared for this.”
The woman’s eyes flickered with a brief flash of recognition. But the guy kept up the innocent act, looking at Bucky as if for support. “I—sorry?”
“You heard me,” you continued, your voice dangerously calm. “Two ex-Hydra soldiers with a knack for sniffing out trouble. One’s a super soldier, the other one controls shadows.” You leaned forward, your gaze sharp. “So, why don’t you tell me who sent you?”
The couple exchanged a quick, fleeting glance. Bucky frowned, clearly baffled by your sudden change in tone. “What are you talking about?”
“Just drive,” you said, keeping your eyes locked on the couple.
The man’s friendly smile melted away, replaced by a smirk as he leaned back, letting out a dark chuckle. “Our boss said you’d figure it out. Knew you’d recognize us.”
At that, Bucky’s jaw clenched his grip on the steering wheel tightening. “Your boss?” he repeated, his voice low and cautious.
The woman beside him grinned, pulling a sleek handgun from her jacket pocket and aiming it at you. Her partner did the same, two barrels glinting in the low light as the car kept moving down the desolate road.
You didn’t flinch. Instead, shadows coiled around your fingers as you reached out, controlling their shadows as they twisted up from beneath them, wrapping around their necks like tight, black tendrils. The guns fell from their hands, clattering to the floor, as they struggled against the suffocating darkness.
Your smirk grew wider. “Tell your boss to go to hell,” you whispered, grabbing one of the guns.
Then, without hesitating, you pulled the trigger twice, silencing both of them in an instant. Their bodies slumped, and the eerie silence filled the car, save for the low, continuous hum of the engine.
Bucky glanced back, face a mix of shock and confusion as he stared at the two bodies in the back seat. He looked at you, mouth slightly open as if trying to find the right words but coming up empty.
You wiped a stray speck of blood from your cheek with the back of your hand, giving him a look that was part exasperation, part amusement. “Did you really forget how Hydra plans things? They’re not just going to let us walk away without trying to stop us.”
Bucky opened his mouth, then closed it again, shaking his head as he struggled to process what had just happened. “You could’ve warned me,” he managed, voice barely above a whisper.
You shrugged, slipping the gun into your bag. “Thought you could use the surprise. Besides,” you added, a smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth, “I didn’t want to ruin the fun.”
Bucky let out a sigh, finally finding his voice, though it was edged with disbelief. “There are two dead bodies in the back seat.”
You met his gaze, eyes glinting with that familiar hint of mischief. “Guess we need to find a new ride.”
After a good half-hour of driving in silence, with the two bodies stiff and slumped in the back seat, Bucky pulled the Cadillac off the main road and toward an old bridge that spanned a shallow creek. The bridge was rusted, the wood on the sides splintered, and no one else was around for miles. Bucky parked and cut the engine, giving the car one last, almost regretful look.
“Alright,” he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder and glancing at you. “Let’s dump the car and get out of here.”
You nodded, grabbing the bag of supplies you’d picked up at the gas station and stepping out of the car, breathing in the cool, night air. The two of you pushed the Cadillac until it was just teetering at the edge of the bridge. With one last shove, it tipped over, crashing down into the creek below with a splash.
“Well, that’s taken care of,” you said, brushing your hands off. “Now, let’s find a way to blend in.”
A few minutes of walking brought you to a slightly rundown McDonald’s, its faded sign buzzing faintly. It wasn’t much, but the thought of greasy fries and a stolen vehicle to get back on the road was a relief.
“This place might be even sketchier than that car we just dumped,” Bucky muttered as you both approached.
You snorted, glancing around the empty parking lot. The one saving grace? No cameras. That was a small miracle. “Perfect. All we need now is a set of keys.”
As you walked into the McDonald’s, your eyes scanned the patrons, looking for anyone with a half-decent car and, ideally, someone who wouldn’t notice they’d been robbed until you were long gone. Then you saw him—a lanky, thin man sitting alone in the corner, scrolling through his phone and sipping from an oversized drink. His car keys were lazily dropped on the table beside him.
“That’s our guy,” you murmured to Bucky. “Stay put. I’ll take care of it.”
You strolled over casually, taking a long route around the tables before “accidentally” bumping into him, your hand brushing the keys off the table in the process. “Oh, sorry about that!” you said, offering an apologetic smile as you snatched the keys up in a swift motion.
“No problem, sweetheart,” the man replied, looking up with a grin that immediately sent a chill down your spine. He looked you up and down, a little too long, his gaze landing on your waist as he leaned in closer. “Though, maybe we could make it up to each other?”
Your polite smile froze, and you stepped back, already disgusted, but his hand darted out, resting on your lower back as he leaned into your ear. “You came over here for a reason, didn’t you?”
You fought the urge to shove him, trying to stay under the radar. “Back off,” you said, keeping your tone low but firm. When you tried to step away, his fingers closed around your wrist, holding you in place.
“Oh, don’t be like that,” he murmured, his grip tightening. “You wanted something from me, didn’t you?”
Just as your patience snapped and you were about to clock him across the face, a hand gripped the back of his collar and yanked him out of his chair, sending him sprawling onto the floor. You looked up to see Bucky standing beside you, his eyes dark with anger as he stared down at the man.
“Touch her again,” Bucky growled, his voice low and lethal, “and you’ll regret it.”
The guy looked up, stunned, and wisely kept his mouth shut as he scuttled back, putting as much distance as he could between himself and Bucky. Meanwhile, Bucky turned to you, his hand unconsciously resting on your waist as he guided you away from the scene. You barely noticed, too busy glaring at the guy as you left him to nurse his bruised ego.
Once you were clear of the crowd, you turned to Bucky, feeling a mixture of irritation and relief. “I was handling it just fine.”
He rolled his eyes, releasing his hold on your waist. “Oh yeah, you were doing great. Right up until he was about to assault you.”
You huffed, looking away. “Fine, thanks. Or whatever.” The words slipped out before you could stop them, softer than you’d intended. You didn’t mean for him to hear, but he did, and he stilled.
Bucky gave you a curious look, his brows furrowing as though trying to process the fact that you’d actually thanked him. But you quickly averted your gaze, pressing the button on the stolen car key fob to find the vehicle. Somewhere behind you, Bucky was still standing there, half in shock.
The sound of the car unlocking drew both of your attention to a sleek, black Jeep in the back of the lot.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” you said, raising an eyebrow, satisfied.
The black Jeep rumbled along the desolate road, the landscape gradually shifting as you and Bucky crossed into Michigan. You’d been driving for the past hour, much to Bucky’s visible discomfort, as he occasionally clutched the edge of the seat like it might save him if you veered off course.
“Relax, Barnes,” you muttered, smirking as you glanced at him. “I’ve got this.”
“Sure, because that last turn didn’t almost kill us,” he replied, his tone dry as sandpaper.
You waved him off, turning your attention back to the road. The tension eased slightly as the first signs of civilization began to dot the horizon—a tiny, rundown tourist shop with a weathered sign boasting MAPS, SOUVENIRS, AND SNACKS. You pulled into the gravel parking lot, killing the engine and hopping out.
“Alright,” you said, stretching your arms over your head. “Let’s get this over with.”
Bucky frowned as he followed you toward the shop. “What are we even doing here?”
“Mapping things out for the others, obviously,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “I can’t have them wandering around like clueless tourists. Well… not that they’ll find this place easily even with directions.”
Inside, the shop was as rundown as the exterior suggested. Dusty shelves lined with expired snacks and faded postcards greeted you, along with an elderly man behind the counter who barely looked up as you entered. You made a beeline for the map stand, grabbing three identical folded maps of Michigan.
Bucky raised an eyebrow as you grabbed a red marker from a nearby display. “What’s with the marker?”
“Watch and learn, old man,” you said, plopping the maps onto the counter and spreading one open. With quick, precise strokes, you drew a route leading to your safe house, marking each map with a red circle at the final destination. “Now everyone gets their very own DIY treasure map.”
“Very thoughtful of you,” Bucky deadpanned.
“Right?” you said with a grin, folding the maps and tucking them into your jacket.
As you walked outside, you scanned the area until your eyes landed on a red trashcan far enough from the shop to seem inconspicuous. With an exaggerated flourish, you dropped the maps inside.
“There. Done,” you said, brushing your hands together. “Now, all we have to do is wait for them to catch up.”
Back in the Jeep, you grabbed the walkie-talkie and leaned back in your seat, your voice cutting through the static.
“Hey, everyone. Just thought I’d point out that none of you seemed even slightly concerned about where the safe house is. Not a single word about it. Kind of hurtful, really.” You smirked, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “But since I’m a generous and very nice person, I’ve left you all a little present.”
The walkie crackled before Steve’s voice replied, cautious as ever. “What kind of present?”
“Oh, nothing major,” you said, dragging it out for effect. “Just some maps. You’ll find them in the trashcan at the tourist shop right after you cross into Michigan. Red trashcan, can’t miss it.”
Tony’s voice cut in, sharp and skeptical. “Wait, you made maps? And put them in a trashcan?”
“Yes, Stark,” you said with mock patience. “And I even used a red marker. It’s very professional.”
“Professional?” Clint chimed in, laughing. “You’re sending us on a scavenger hunt!”
“It’s not my fault you guys didn’t think to ask where the place is,” you replied, feigning innocence. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
Natasha’s voice came through next, calm but clearly amused. “I’ll admit, this is better than wandering aimlessly.”
“See? Nat gets it,” you said smugly. “Anyway, maps are there. Don’t lose them, or you’re on your own.”
“Noted,” Steve said, his tone dry.
“And hurry up,” you added, smirking as you leaned back in your seat. “Bucky and I might finish all the snacks before you get here.”
There was a pause before Sam’s voice came through, chuckling. “If you don’t kill each other first.”
You grinned, setting the walkie down and glancing at Bucky, who was giving you his usual unimpressed look.
“What?” you asked innocently.
“You really put the maps in a trashcan,” he said, shaking his head.
“Hey, it adds character,” you said, starting the Jeep again. “Now, let’s go. We’ve got bonding to do.”
Bucky groaned, leaning back in his seat as the Jeep rolled onto the road again. “This is going to be a long day.”
The Jeep rolled along the bumpy countryside road, the faint glow of the setting sun casting warm hues across the fields. You had your hands firmly on the wheel, the hum of the engine the only sound filling the quiet. Bucky, sitting in the passenger seat, looked out the window with his usual stoic expression, but his fingers tapped absently on his knee—a telltale sign of his irritation.
It wasn’t until the silence stretched into something a little too long that you decided to break it.
“So, Barnes,” you said, throwing him a quick glance, “you got any favorite road trip songs? Or do you just sit in silence, brooding like a moody teenager?”
He turned to you, eyebrow raised. “Brooding?”
“Yeah, brooding,” you repeated with a grin, keeping your eyes on the road. “You know, arms crossed, staring out the window, thinking about your tragic past or whatever.”
Bucky sighed, leaning back in his seat. “I don’t brood.”
“Sure,” you said, drawing the word out. “You don’t brood. You just sulk in a very manly way.”
He gave you a pointed look. “You talk too much.”
“Thanks. I try.”
You reached forward, flicking on the radio, and immediately regretted it as static filled the car. Frowning, you twisted the knob, cycling through channels until you found something halfway decent—a peppy pop song that instantly clashed with the rugged energy of the Jeep.
“Oh, this is perfect,” you said, cranking up the volume.
Bucky looked at you like you’d just committed a crime. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“What?” you asked, feigning innocence as you started bopping your head to the beat. “You don’t like it? I think it suits the vibe.”
“The vibe of what? A clown car?” he muttered, reaching for the dial.
You smacked his hand away. “Hands off. Driver picks the music.”
“Driver also nearly killed us twice today,” he shot back.
“Oh, relax,” you said with a laugh, swerving the car slightly just to mess with him. His hand immediately shot out to steady himself on the dashboard, his eyes narrowing in annoyance.
“You’re impossible,” he muttered, but there was a flicker of something lighter in his expression—a hint of amusement he didn’t bother to hide.
After a while, the two of you pulled into a tiny rest stop—a place that looked like it had been forgotten by time, complete with peeling paint and a vending machine that seemed more decorative than functional. You stretched as you stepped out of the Jeep, glancing around.
“Well, it’s not exactly five-star, but it’ll do,” you said, heading toward the vending machine.
Bucky followed, watching as you squinted at the dusty selection of snacks behind the scratched glass. “What are you even trying to get? Those things are probably older than I am.”
“Funny,” you said, pointing to a packet of chips. “I bet this bag’s fresher than your jokes.”
He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue as you fished some coins from your pocket and punched in the number. The machine whirred, the chips moving slowly toward the edge before stopping halfway.
“Are you kidding me?” you muttered, crouching down to glare at the stubborn bag.
Bucky crossed his arms, watching you struggle. “Karma.”
“Shut up,” you grumbled, shaking the machine. It didn’t budge.
With a sigh, you stepped back and gestured to him. “Alright, big guy. Time to put those super-soldier muscles to work. Get my chips.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously,” you said, crossing your arms. “Come on, Captain Metal Arm. Impress me.”
Bucky let out a low chuckle but stepped forward. With one casual push, he tilted the vending machine just enough for the bag to drop. He grabbed it and handed it to you, his expression unreadable.
You took the chips, opening the bag with exaggerated flair. “And they say chivalry is dead.”
“Next time, you’re on your own,” he replied, but the corners of his mouth twitched slightly, betraying his amusement.
As the two of you sat on the hood of the Jeep, sharing the chips and watching the sun dip below the horizon, the tension of the day began to melt away.
“You know,” you said after a while, tossing a chip into your mouth, “you’re not as bad as I thought.”
Bucky glanced at you, one eyebrow raised. “Gee, thanks.”
“No, really,” you said with a grin. “You’ve got this whole brooding, tough guy thing going on, but deep down, you’re just a big softie.”
He shook his head, but there was a trace of a smile on his lips. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”
“Never,” you replied, smirking as you held up the bag of chips. “Want the last one?”
He reached for it, but you pulled it away at the last second, popping it into your mouth with a mischievous grin.
“Child,” he muttered, shaking his head.
“Grump,” you shot back, leaning back on the hood with a satisfied sigh.
The quiet between you was lighter now, the kind of silence that didn’t need to be filled. For once, the weight of everything—the mission, Hydra, the constant running—seemed to fade, if only for a little while.
The Jeep creaked as it rolled along the uneven dirt road, kicking up small clouds of dust in its wake. The countryside around you gradually began to shift into something more picturesque—open grassy fields stretched endlessly on either side, dotted with wildflowers swaying gently in the breeze. The sky above was a brilliant shade of blue, unmarred by pollution or city haze, and in the distance, you could see small cottages scattered across the rolling hills.
You pulled the Jeep to a stop near the edge of the village, cutting the engine. For a moment, neither of you moved, both taking in the view before you.
Bucky was the first to step out, his boots crunching against the gravel as he surveyed the area. His expression softened—confusion giving way to quiet amusement, and then to something almost admiring.
“This is it?” he asked, his voice low.
You stepped out, standing by the Jeep as the breeze ruffled your hair. “This is it,” you said softly, your tone carrying a hint of nostalgia.
Bucky turned, looking around with a kind of cautious curiosity. The place was nothing like he’d expected—serene, untouched, almost too peaceful for someone like him, or even for someone like you. He caught sight of a small group of children running across a grassy field in the distance, their laughter rising above the whisper of the wind.
“It’s… nice,” he said, his voice almost hesitant.
You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you stood there, your gaze fixed on the horizon, where the sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting golden light over the landscape. The breeze shifted again, and for a moment, Bucky was distracted—not by the scenery, but by you.
The way the sunlight framed your face, softening the usual sharpness of your features. The rare, peaceful expression you wore, as if this place had pulled you into a memory too distant to touch but impossible to ignore. Your hair moved gently with the breeze, and the faintest trace of a smile played on your lips—one that was neither sarcastic nor guarded.
Bucky’s brow furrowed slightly, his confusion mingling with something he couldn’t quite name.
“This place… you’ve been here before,” he said, more a statement than a question.
You glanced at him, the momentary warmth in your expression replaced with your usual mask of indifference. “Yeah. A long time ago.”
He didn’t press, sensing that whatever history this place held for you wasn’t something you were ready to share. Instead, he looked around again, letting the calmness of the village settle over him.
“This is a good spot,” he said finally, nodding to himself. “Safe. Quiet.”
“Yeah,” you murmured, your gaze drifting back toward the horizon. “It’s the kind of place that makes you forget the rest of the world exists.”
The two of you stood there for a while, the silence filled with the sound of the wind rustling the grass and the distant clamor of life in the village. It was a rare moment—one where neither of you felt the weight of everything chasing you.
After a while, Bucky glanced at you again. “How long do you think it’ll take for the others to get here?”
“Knowing them?” you said with a smirk, leaning against the Jeep. “Probably long enough for you to fall asleep waiting.”
Bucky huffed a soft laugh, shaking his head as he leaned back against the Jeep beside you. The two of you waited, side by side, as the peacefulness of the village continued to wrap around you like a cocoon, keeping the chaos of the outside world at bay.
synopsis: elijah had always kept you at arm's length. today you finally confronted him.
genre: angst, hurt-comfort
warnings: none
word count: 1.1k
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ THE NIGHT AIR WAS brittle, heavy with the quiet hum of the woods surrounding the Mikaelson estate. You stood on the balcony, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, trying to ward off the chill creeping into your bones. He was late again. You weren’t sure why you even expected otherwise. Elijah Mikaelson was nothing if not elusive, slipping through the cracks of your life like water through cupped hands.
The sound of footsteps behind you shattered the silence, and you turned to find him standing there. His silhouette was bathed in moonlight, his immaculate suit dark against the pale glow. His face was as unreadable as ever, though his eyes betrayed him, shadowed with guilt and sorrow.
“You’re late,” you said quietly, not bothering to hide the edge in your voice.
“I didn’t mean to—”
“You never do.” You turned back to the night sky, unwilling to face him. “But you always find a reason, don’t you? A reason to leave. A reason to stay away.”
His silence stretched between you like an unspoken truth. Finally, he stepped closer, his voice low and measured. “You know why I keep my distance.”
You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, I know. You’ve made that very clear. Because I’m human. Because I’m fragile. Because I’ll die, and you won’t.”
“Don’t trivialize this.” His voice was sharp now, a flash of that famous Mikaelson temper breaking through his usual restraint. “Do you think it’s easy for me? Watching you live this fleeting, brilliant life, knowing that I—” He stopped himself, his fists clenching at his sides. “Knowing that I’ll outlive it?”
“Then why not let me love you while I’m here?” you asked, your voice trembling. “Why punish us both for something we can’t change?”
His jaw tightened, and he turned away, his gaze fixed on some distant point in the horizon. “You don’t understand what you’re asking of me.”
“Don’t I?” You stepped toward him, anger simmering beneath your sorrow. “Do you think I don’t understand what it means to love you? To love someone who’s seen the rise and fall of civilizations? Who’s walked this earth for centuries while I have maybe a handful of decades left?”
“Elijah,” you continued, your voice breaking, “you think you’re protecting me by keeping me at arm’s length, but all you’re doing is breaking my heart in slow motion.”
He flinched at your words, his composure cracking for just a moment. “If I give in,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, “if I let myself love you the way you deserve, it will destroy me when I lose you.”
“And what about me?” you shot back, tears welling in your eyes. “What about the destruction you’re leaving me with now? Every time you pull away, every time you disappear, it’s like losing you piece by piece.”
His face softened, but the pain in his eyes deepened. “You think this is easy for me? To deny myself the only thing I’ve wanted in centuries? To stand here, knowing that if I give in, I’ll condemn myself to a grief that never ends?”
You took a step closer, your voice trembling but firm. “You’re already grieving me, Elijah. You’re mourning me before I’m even gone. And it’s not fair. To either of us.”
The silence that followed was deafening, his eyes locked on yours as if searching for an answer he couldn’t bear to find. When he spoke again, his voice was raw, stripped of its usual careful control. “I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever cared for. Every single one. Do you know what it’s like to live for a thousand years, burdened by the memory of every love you’ve buried? To carry that weight, century after century?”
Your breath hitched, and you reached out, your hand brushing his. “I don’t know that kind of pain,” you admitted. “But I know that I’d rather have a few years of loving you than a lifetime of wondering what it would’ve been like.”
He shook his head, a soft, bitter laugh escaping his lips. “You say that now. But someday, I’ll be standing over your grave, and you’ll be gone. And I’ll still be here.”
Tears spilled down your cheeks, but you held his gaze. “Then I’ll love you from my grave. I’ll love you so fiercely that even death won’t take it from you.”
Elijah’s composure shattered. He took a step closer, his hands trembling at his sides. “Do you think this is easy for me?” he asked, his voice raw. “Do you think I don’t ache every moment I’m away from you? That I don’t dream of a life where I can give you the happiness you deserve?”
“Then why won’t you let yourself have it?” you cried, the tears spilling over now. “Why won’t you let me have you?”
“Because I will lose you!” he shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of his grief. “And I cannot endure that pain again. I have buried too many loves, seen too many faces fade from memory. If I love you, truly love you, it will destroy me when you are gone.”
“And what about me?” you demanded, stepping closer. “You think I don’t know the risks? You think I haven’t thought about the day I’ll be gone and you’ll still be here? But I’m here now, Elijah. I’m alive. And you’re wasting it.”
He turned away, his shoulders trembling as he struggled to regain control. “You deserve a life unburdened by the chaos I bring. A life with someone who can grow old with you.”
“You don’t get to decide that for me,” you said, your voice steady despite the tears streaming down your face. “You don’t get to take away my choice just because you’re scared.”
You moved closer, desperate to reach him, to make him understand. “You can’t stop time, Elijah. You can’t stop the pain. But you can choose to let yourself be happy. Even if it’s just for a little while.”
He looked at you then, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Happiness is a cruel illusion for someone like me.”
“Then let me be your illusion,” you whispered, stepping close enough to feel the heat of him. “Let me be yours, if only for as long as I can.”
For a moment, you thought he might leave again, retreat into the shadows where he felt safest. But then he reached out, his hand cupping your cheek, his touch so gentle it almost broke you. “You are asking me to risk everything,” he murmured, his voice heavy with anguish.
“And I’m giving you everything in return,” you replied.
His lips met yours then, desperate and searching, as though trying to carve this moment into eternity. When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the still night air. “If I lose you,” he said, his voice trembling, “I may never recover.”
“Then don’t lose me,” you whispered. “Not yet.”
And for the first time, Elijah Mikaelson let himself hope.
Whenever I see James Potter shipped with a blonde guy, I always get confused and try to think of who it is or if I missed something in the fandom. But then I realize that it is not James Potter but actually Harry Potter, and it is, in fact, a Drarry post.
synopsis: you were sirius’ cousin. remus was his best friend. secrets like that were bound to explode.
genre: fluff
warnings: kissing, making out
word count: 1.5k
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ REMUS LUPIN WAS A man of composure—or at least, he liked to think so. But when you yanked him into an empty classroom, all thoughts of self-control went flying out the window.
You moved swiftly, pushing him against the cold, unforgiving stone wall with surprising force. His back hit it with a thud, and before he could even muster a protest, you had him pinned.
“Hello, Lupin,” you purred, a wicked smirk curving your lips as you planted a hand on his chest.
Remus blinked, flustered. Your presence was intoxicating, your dark robes and air of cool detachment a sharp contrast to the fire dancing in your eyes.
“Y/N,” he stammered, his heart racing. “Do you have to keep doing this?”
“Yes,” you replied matter-of-factly, leaning in closer. The corner of your lips twitched in amusement at his flustered expression. “It’s fun.”
“I’m starting to suspect you enjoy scaring me half to death,” he muttered, trying to maintain his composure.
You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Not scaring you. Surprising you. There’s a difference.”
Before he could respond, your hand trailed from his chest to his collar, tugging lightly on his tie. Remus swallowed hard, his brain scrambling to form coherent thoughts.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” you murmured, your voice dropping to a dangerous softness.
“I haven’t been—”
“Don’t lie to me, Lupin,” you interrupted, cutting him off with a raised brow. “You’re terrible at it.”
He let out a resigned sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve just… had a lot on my plate.”
“Always so responsible,” you teased, stepping closer until there was almost no space between you. “But you’re here now. So stop running away.”
Something in his chest twisted at your words. The truth was, he hadn’t been avoiding you intentionally—well, not entirely. The weight of his secrets, the fear of being caught, the anxiety of you realizing you deserved far better than a half-blood werewolf… it gnawed at him constantly.
But standing here, looking at you now, he realized how futile those fears were. You always sought him out. And he was powerless to resist.
Suddenly, Remus’s instincts took over. With a quick movement, he flipped your positions, pressing you against the wall.
Your eyes widened for a split second before narrowing with a mixture of surprise and amusement.
“Well, well,” you said, your voice light with mock approval. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”
His hands found your waist, holding you firmly in place, while his other hand rested near your head, caging you in. He leaned in, close enough that your noses almost touched.
“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think,” he quipped, his lips quirking into a rare smirk.
You raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Oh, I know you, Lupin. You’re far too polite to—”
“Far too polite to do what?” he interrupted, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down your spine.
Your confidence wavered for the briefest moment, and he caught it.
“This,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke.
The sheer boldness of the move caught you off guard, and before you could stop yourself, a laugh bubbled up from your throat.
“Remus,” you said between giggles, shaking your head. “That was absolutely ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous?” he repeated, his tone mock-offended. “I thought it was rather dashing.”
Your laughter grew louder, and you tried to muffle it with your hand. But before you could succeed, Remus clamped his own hand over your mouth, his eyes wide with alarm.
“Y/N, shh! Do you want Filch—or worse, Sirius—to find us?”
Your shoulders shook with laughter, your muffled giggles vibrating against his palm. When he finally removed his hand, you took a deep breath, calming yourself.
“You’re lucky I find you charming,” you said, your smirk returning.
“Lucky doesn’t begin to cover it,” he replied, his voice soft but sincere.
The two of you lingered for a moment, the world outside forgotten. Then, with a glance at the clock, you sighed.
“We both have classes,” you said reluctantly, stepping away.
As you moved toward the door, you turned back, leaning in to plant a feather-light kiss on his lips. It was brief but enough to leave him dazed.
“See you later, Lupin,” you murmured, your voice tinged with affection.
Before he could respond, you were gone, slipping out of the room like a shadow.
The next time you and Remus met, the classroom felt like your own little world. Your lips were on his, your hands tangled in his hair. His bag slid from his shoulder, hitting the floor with a soft thud as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer.
“Y/N,” he murmured between kisses, though he made no effort to stop you. “This isn’t exactly subtle.”
“Then stop me,” you challenged, your voice low and teasing.
He didn’t.
Instead, he let himself sink into the moment, his fingers curling into the fabric of your robes as if anchoring himself to you. The world outside faded to nothing—until the sound of the door creaking open snapped it back into focus.
“WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS THIS?!”
Remus froze. You froze. Both of you turned slowly, dread pooling in your stomachs.
Standing in the doorway were James, Peter, and Sirius, their expressions a chaotic mix of shock, disbelief, and (in Sirius’s case) pure, unadulterated horror.
James’s jaw dropped, and his glasses slid down his nose as he stared at the two of you. Peter looked like he might faint from laughing, while Sirius clutched his chest like he’d just been stabbed.
“YOU’RE SNOGGING MY COUSIN?” Sirius bellowed, his voice echoing off the walls. “MY COUSIN?”
Remus groaned, pressing the heels of his hands to his temples. “Oh, Merlin.”
James recovered first, a smug grin spreading across his face. “I knew it!” he crowed, turning to Peter. “Pay up, Wormtail!”
Peter, still giggling, fished a handful of Sickles out of his pocket and handed them over. “Worth every Knut,” he muttered, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.
Sirius ignored them entirely, his gaze fixed on you and Remus like they’d committed the ultimate betrayal. “I—I can’t believe this. Remus! My best friend! And Y/N! My sister! Have you both lost your minds?”
You crossed your arms, raising a single, unimpressed brow. “Calm down, Sirius. It’s not that big a deal.”
“Not that big a deal?” he repeated, his voice climbing to an almost comical pitch. “You’re my cousin! And Moony’s supposed to be the sensible one!”
“Clearly, I’m full of surprises,” Remus muttered, though the flush on his face betrayed just how mortified he was.
James, meanwhile, was leaning against the doorframe, absolutely delighted. “Honestly, Pads, this is the best thing that’s ever happened. Your cousin and Moony! This is gold.”
“Gold?!” Sirius sputtered, his face reddening by the second. “This is a betrayal! This is treachery! This is—”
“Drama,” you interrupted, cutting him off.
“Drama?” he echoed, looking at you like you’d grown a second head.
“Yes,” you said coolly, stepping forward. “You’re being dramatic. And if you keep this up, Sirius, I’ll tell everyone about the time you cried because you got lost in the hedge maze at Aunt Druella’s garden party.”
James choked on his laughter, doubling over and clutching his sides. “Wait, wait—you cried?”
Peter’s eyes widened, and he clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle his giggles. “Sirius, you cried in a hedge maze?”
“I WAS EIGHT!” Sirius roared, his face turning an alarming shade of red.
Remus, who had been valiantly trying to melt into the floor, couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. James, still wheezing, clapped Sirius on the back.
“Come on, Pads,” James said, grinning ear to ear. “You’ve got to admit, they make a good couple. Bit of a power move, really. Your cousin snagging Moony and keeping it a secret? That’s impressive.”
“It’s infuriating,” Sirius snapped, glaring at you and Remus in turn. “How long has this been going on?”
You exchanged a glance with Remus, your smirk growing. “Almost a year,” you said casually.
“A year?” Sirius yelled. “You’ve been sneaking around behind my back for a YEAR?!”
“Don’t act so surprised,” you replied, arching a brow. “You’re not exactly the most observant.”
Peter finally managed to catch his breath long enough to chime in. “This explains why Moony always looks so… happy lately.”
Remus groaned again, burying his face in his hands. “Can we please stop talking about this?”
“Absolutely not,” James said cheerfully.
You patted Remus’s arm consolingly before turning back to Sirius. “Relax. It’s not like I’m marrying him. Yet.”
That set Sirius off again, sputtering incoherently as you leaned up to plant a quick kiss on Remus’s cheek.
Sirius gagged dramatically. “No! No kissing in front of me!”
You smirked, walking toward the door. “Then maybe you should leave.”
James slung an arm around Sirius’s shoulders, still grinning. “Come on, Pads. It’s not the end of the world.”
“It’s the end of my world,” Sirius muttered, looking utterly defeated.
Peter tilted his head, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “So… does this mean I have a shot with Narcissa?”
Sirius spun around so fast that Peter yelped, darting behind James for cover.
“I WILL END YOU, WORMTAIL!”
The commotion echoed down the corridor as James howled with laughter, and Remus leaned against the wall, shaking his head with a bemused smile.
And so, the secret was out—and Sirius would never recover.
i just read your secret kisses fic with remus and i am literally so amazed that was so good. atmosphere creation — chef's kiss! so i'm about to stalk your whole blog now :)))
omg omg thank you so much <33 im so glad you liked my fic 🤧
pairing . neutral!reader x kol mikaelson. summary . you and kol share a fun, playful moment in the rain, enjoying each other’s company, before a surprising twist brings you closer. genre . fluff. word count . 846
a/n: i've been a little out of ideas lately, i'm sorry for the inactivity. requests are open.
the first drops of rain fell as you stood by the fountain in the garden, looking up at the sky. kol had been teasing you all evening, as usual, but now his sharp wit was momentarily silenced as he watched you tilt your face to the clouds.
kol stood a few steps away, his arms crossed as he watched you with amusement. “you realize it’s going to pour any second now.” he said, his eyebrow arching as if to challenge you.
“good.” you replied simply, stepping into the middle of the garden path where the rain began to fall more steadily. you turned to face him, your arms outstretched. “what’s the point of staying dry when we can have a little fun?”
kol’s smirk widened. “and what exactly do you propose, love? should we twirl about like characters from one of those dreadful romantic films?”
you rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress your grin. “why not? unless, of course, you’re scared you’ll make a fool of yourself.”
“scared?” kol scoffed, taking a step closer. “hardly. but if I’m going to humor you, i expect a proper invitation.”
you held out your hand, giving him a dramatic, sweeping bow as if you were dressed in an elaborate ballgown. “kol mikaelson,” you said with mock formality, “may i have the honor of this dance?”
his eyes sparkled with mischief as he mirrored your gesture, bowing with an exaggerated flourish. “the honor is mine, darling.”
he took your hand, pulling you closer, and placed his other hand lightly on your waist. the moment his touch settled there, a shiver ran down your spine—not from the rain, but from the sudden realization of how close he was.
“try to keep up.” he murmured, his lips curving into a smirk as he spun you clumsily, your feet slipping slightly on the wet stone.
you both laughed, the sound echoing through the rain-soaked garden. he twirled you again, this time pulling you closer so your chest brushed his. his gaze lingered on you for a moment, the teasing glint in his eyes softening into something warmer.
the playful banter slowed as the dance turned less chaotic. his steps steadied, his movements gentler, and you couldn’t help but notice how his hand lingered just a bit longer at your waist with each turn.
the rain poured harder now, plastering your hair to your face, but neither of you seemed to care. It was just the two of you, moving together as if the rest of the world had disappeared.
kol’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, neither of you said a word. the laughter had faded, replaced by a quiet anticipation that hung between you like the rain itself.
your heart raced as his hand slid just slightly, his thumb brushing your side. you glanced at his lips, then back to his eyes, and you swore you saw his smirk falter ever so slightly.
“kol..” you murmured, unsure of what you wanted to say but knowing you couldn’t look away.
he tilted his head, his voice dropping to a soft, teasing whisper. “what is it, love? lost for words?”
you hesitated, caught in the intensity of his gaze. the rain dripped down his face, tracing along his cheekbones, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from flickering back to his lips.
“go on, love. do it.” kol’s smirk softened into something more serious, his voice low.
your breath caught, and for a second, you froze. then, before you could overthink it, you leaned in. the kiss was tentative at first, soft and shy, as if neither of you wanted to break the fragile moment. but when kol’s hand tightened ever so slightly at your waist, pulling you closer, you melted into him, the rain forgotten entirely.
when you finally pulled back, your cheeks were warm despite the chill. kol grinned at you, his smirk equal parts smug and affectionate.
“see? wasn’t so hard, was it?” he teased softly, his forehead resting lightly against yours.
before you could reply, a sharp throat-clearing broke the spell.
both of you turned to see elijah standing under the doorway of the house, his expression composed but unmistakably amused.
“while your theatrics are most entertaining,” elijah said, his tone cool, “i would suggest you dry off before ruining the floors.”
kol rolled his eyes dramatically. “thank you, mother.” he called back, earning a raised eyebrow from elijah.
you couldn’t hold back your laughter, leaning into kol slightly as he grinned down at you.
“well, darling.” he said, leaning closer so only you could hear. “shall we obey the all-knowing elijah or have one last kiss before we retreat?”
you didn’t answer with words. instead, you pulled him down for another kiss, slower this time, savoring the moment as the rain poured down around you. it wasn’t until your fingers tangled in his wet hair that you realized you didn’t care how soaked you were.
eventually, you both broke apart, laughing softly as you headed back to the house, hand in hand, leaving a trail of water behind you.
01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents?
02: Who did you last say “I love you” to?
03: Do you regret anything?
04: Are you insecure?
05: What is your relationship status?
06: How do you want to die?
07: What did you last eat?
08: Played any sports?
09: Do you bite your nails?
10: When was your last physical fight?
11: Do you like someone?
12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours?
13: Do you hate anyone at the moment?
14: Do you miss someone?
15: Have any pets?
16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment?
17: Ever made out in the bathroom?
18: Are you scared of spiders?
19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance?
20: Where was the last place you snogged someone?
21: What are your plans for this weekend?
22: Do you want to have kids? How many?
23: Do you have piercings? How many?
24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)?
25: Do you miss anyone from your past?
26: What are you craving right now?
27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart?
28: Have you ever been cheated on?
29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry?
30: What’s irritating you right now?
31: Does somebody love you?
32: What is your favourite color?
33: Do you have trust issues?
34: Who/what was your last dream about?
35: Who was the last person you cried in front of?
36: Do you give out second chances too easily?
37: Is it easier to forgive or forget?
38: Is this year the best year of your life?
39: How old were you when you had your first kiss?
40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked?
51: Favourite food?
52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason?
53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night?
54: Is cheating ever okay?
55: Are you mean?
56: How many people have you fist fought?
57: Do you believe in true love?
58: Favourite weather?
59: Do you like the snow?
60: Do you wanna get married?
61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby?
62: What makes you happy?
63: Would you change your name?
64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed?
65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?
66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around?
67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to?
68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?
69: Do you believe in soulmates?
70: Is there anyone you would die for?
synopsis: you were sirius’ cousin. remus was his best friend. secrets like that were bound to explode.
genre: fluff
warnings: kissing, making out
word count: 1.5k
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ REMUS LUPIN WAS A man of composure—or at least, he liked to think so. But when you yanked him into an empty classroom, all thoughts of self-control went flying out the window.
You moved swiftly, pushing him against the cold, unforgiving stone wall with surprising force. His back hit it with a thud, and before he could even muster a protest, you had him pinned.
“Hello, Lupin,” you purred, a wicked smirk curving your lips as you planted a hand on his chest.
Remus blinked, flustered. Your presence was intoxicating, your dark robes and air of cool detachment a sharp contrast to the fire dancing in your eyes.
“Y/N,” he stammered, his heart racing. “Do you have to keep doing this?”
“Yes,” you replied matter-of-factly, leaning in closer. The corner of your lips twitched in amusement at his flustered expression. “It’s fun.”
“I’m starting to suspect you enjoy scaring me half to death,” he muttered, trying to maintain his composure.
You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Not scaring you. Surprising you. There’s a difference.”
Before he could respond, your hand trailed from his chest to his collar, tugging lightly on his tie. Remus swallowed hard, his brain scrambling to form coherent thoughts.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” you murmured, your voice dropping to a dangerous softness.
“I haven’t been—”
“Don’t lie to me, Lupin,” you interrupted, cutting him off with a raised brow. “You’re terrible at it.”
He let out a resigned sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve just… had a lot on my plate.”
“Always so responsible,” you teased, stepping closer until there was almost no space between you. “But you’re here now. So stop running away.”
Something in his chest twisted at your words. The truth was, he hadn’t been avoiding you intentionally—well, not entirely. The weight of his secrets, the fear of being caught, the anxiety of you realizing you deserved far better than a half-blood werewolf… it gnawed at him constantly.
But standing here, looking at you now, he realized how futile those fears were. You always sought him out. And he was powerless to resist.
Suddenly, Remus’s instincts took over. With a quick movement, he flipped your positions, pressing you against the wall.
Your eyes widened for a split second before narrowing with a mixture of surprise and amusement.
“Well, well,” you said, your voice light with mock approval. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”
His hands found your waist, holding you firmly in place, while his other hand rested near your head, caging you in. He leaned in, close enough that your noses almost touched.
“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think,” he quipped, his lips quirking into a rare smirk.
You raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Oh, I know you, Lupin. You’re far too polite to—”
“Far too polite to do what?” he interrupted, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down your spine.
Your confidence wavered for the briefest moment, and he caught it.
“This,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke.
The sheer boldness of the move caught you off guard, and before you could stop yourself, a laugh bubbled up from your throat.
“Remus,” you said between giggles, shaking your head. “That was absolutely ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous?” he repeated, his tone mock-offended. “I thought it was rather dashing.”
Your laughter grew louder, and you tried to muffle it with your hand. But before you could succeed, Remus clamped his own hand over your mouth, his eyes wide with alarm.
“Y/N, shh! Do you want Filch—or worse, Sirius—to find us?”
Your shoulders shook with laughter, your muffled giggles vibrating against his palm. When he finally removed his hand, you took a deep breath, calming yourself.
“You’re lucky I find you charming,” you said, your smirk returning.
“Lucky doesn’t begin to cover it,” he replied, his voice soft but sincere.
The two of you lingered for a moment, the world outside forgotten. Then, with a glance at the clock, you sighed.
“We both have classes,” you said reluctantly, stepping away.
As you moved toward the door, you turned back, leaning in to plant a feather-light kiss on his lips. It was brief but enough to leave him dazed.
“See you later, Lupin,” you murmured, your voice tinged with affection.
Before he could respond, you were gone, slipping out of the room like a shadow.
The next time you and Remus met, the classroom felt like your own little world. Your lips were on his, your hands tangled in his hair. His bag slid from his shoulder, hitting the floor with a soft thud as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer.
“Y/N,” he murmured between kisses, though he made no effort to stop you. “This isn’t exactly subtle.”
“Then stop me,” you challenged, your voice low and teasing.
He didn’t.
Instead, he let himself sink into the moment, his fingers curling into the fabric of your robes as if anchoring himself to you. The world outside faded to nothing—until the sound of the door creaking open snapped it back into focus.
“WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS THIS?!”
Remus froze. You froze. Both of you turned slowly, dread pooling in your stomachs.
Standing in the doorway were James, Peter, and Sirius, their expressions a chaotic mix of shock, disbelief, and (in Sirius’s case) pure, unadulterated horror.
James’s jaw dropped, and his glasses slid down his nose as he stared at the two of you. Peter looked like he might faint from laughing, while Sirius clutched his chest like he’d just been stabbed.
“YOU’RE SNOGGING MY COUSIN?” Sirius bellowed, his voice echoing off the walls. “MY COUSIN?”
Remus groaned, pressing the heels of his hands to his temples. “Oh, Merlin.”
James recovered first, a smug grin spreading across his face. “I knew it!” he crowed, turning to Peter. “Pay up, Wormtail!”
Peter, still giggling, fished a handful of Sickles out of his pocket and handed them over. “Worth every Knut,” he muttered, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.
Sirius ignored them entirely, his gaze fixed on you and Remus like they’d committed the ultimate betrayal. “I—I can’t believe this. Remus! My best friend! And Y/N! My sister! Have you both lost your minds?”
You crossed your arms, raising a single, unimpressed brow. “Calm down, Sirius. It’s not that big a deal.”
“Not that big a deal?” he repeated, his voice climbing to an almost comical pitch. “You’re my cousin! And Moony’s supposed to be the sensible one!”
“Clearly, I’m full of surprises,” Remus muttered, though the flush on his face betrayed just how mortified he was.
James, meanwhile, was leaning against the doorframe, absolutely delighted. “Honestly, Pads, this is the best thing that’s ever happened. Your cousin and Moony! This is gold.”
“Gold?!” Sirius sputtered, his face reddening by the second. “This is a betrayal! This is treachery! This is—”
“Drama,” you interrupted, cutting him off.
“Drama?” he echoed, looking at you like you’d grown a second head.
“Yes,” you said coolly, stepping forward. “You’re being dramatic. And if you keep this up, Sirius, I’ll tell everyone about the time you cried because you got lost in the hedge maze at Aunt Druella’s garden party.”
James choked on his laughter, doubling over and clutching his sides. “Wait, wait—you cried?”
Peter’s eyes widened, and he clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle his giggles. “Sirius, you cried in a hedge maze?”
“I WAS EIGHT!” Sirius roared, his face turning an alarming shade of red.
Remus, who had been valiantly trying to melt into the floor, couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. James, still wheezing, clapped Sirius on the back.
“Come on, Pads,” James said, grinning ear to ear. “You’ve got to admit, they make a good couple. Bit of a power move, really. Your cousin snagging Moony and keeping it a secret? That’s impressive.”
“It’s infuriating,” Sirius snapped, glaring at you and Remus in turn. “How long has this been going on?”
You exchanged a glance with Remus, your smirk growing. “Almost a year,” you said casually.
“A year?” Sirius yelled. “You’ve been sneaking around behind my back for a YEAR?!”
“Don’t act so surprised,” you replied, arching a brow. “You’re not exactly the most observant.”
Peter finally managed to catch his breath long enough to chime in. “This explains why Moony always looks so… happy lately.”
Remus groaned again, burying his face in his hands. “Can we please stop talking about this?”
“Absolutely not,” James said cheerfully.
You patted Remus’s arm consolingly before turning back to Sirius. “Relax. It’s not like I’m marrying him. Yet.”
That set Sirius off again, sputtering incoherently as you leaned up to plant a quick kiss on Remus’s cheek.
Sirius gagged dramatically. “No! No kissing in front of me!”
You smirked, walking toward the door. “Then maybe you should leave.”
James slung an arm around Sirius’s shoulders, still grinning. “Come on, Pads. It’s not the end of the world.”
“It’s the end of my world,” Sirius muttered, looking utterly defeated.
Peter tilted his head, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “So… does this mean I have a shot with Narcissa?”
Sirius spun around so fast that Peter yelped, darting behind James for cover.
“I WILL END YOU, WORMTAIL!”
The commotion echoed down the corridor as James howled with laughter, and Remus leaned against the wall, shaking his head with a bemused smile.
And so, the secret was out—and Sirius would never recover.
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