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remmyj-ohnloops · 20 hours ago

Note

HELLO HELLO HELLO!!!

so I just stumbled on your page and realised that I really like your writing style, kudos to you and I have a request!!!

ahem ahem

so this has been on my mind for a while and idk maybe I just have a thing for time travel fics

so can we do james x femreader where during yk the typical time travel fic, she gets hit and sent bsck to like marauders era!

also background info she’s like bffs with golden trio and stuff

and she’s a slytherin!!! (idk u can use ur creativity to figure out how they become friends or something)

but it’s sorta like forbidden love cuz she becomes friends with narcissa and Bella AND ALSO is bffs with his son, so they can’t exactly be together

ps nobody knows that she’s been sent back in time

YOU CAN FECIDE THE RESTTTT

is it unrequited? does James still like Lily? what happens to HARry?!!!

Splintered In Time ♡ : A James Potter Fan Fiction.

pairing : James Potter x female!slytherin!reader

summary : When a spell gone wrong sends you hurtling back to the Marauders era, you find yourself entangled in a life you were never meant to live. Torn between the friendships you left behind and the forbidden love you were never meant to have, you must face the impossible choice: to hold on to a borrowed future or fight for the one slipping through your fingers. But time is never kind to those who dare to rewrite it. And love—love is the most reckless magic of all.

warnings : Emotional whiplash, time travelling, poetic language, heavy yearning, Marauders banter, but with a hopeful conclusion, angst with happy ending, slight ‘Snily’ in the ending. Please let me know if I missed any.

author's note : English is not my first language, so please forgive me for any grammatical errors or spelling errors. Re-blogging is completely fine with me, but please don't copy my work. I love you all. Enjoy <3.

word count : 10k {Longest fiction I have ever written}

main master list <3

della's note : Babe! This request made me question and challenge my creativity. Thanks A TON for requesting!!! It felt wonderful to write about time travelling. Oh and btw, originally this was supposed to be a sad ending fiction. But I just can't do this to our James <333 I hope you like it!!!! Oh and it's a super long fiction. Like, I got really carried away while writing!!! I AM SO EXCITED. This is a really long fic, so sit back, grab your popcorn and ENJOYYYYY <33333

banners : @uzmacchiato and @roseschoices

There are no stars tonight—only the burn of borrowed time.

You didn’t see it coming.

The curse, emerald and vicious, came hissing through the battlefield. You only heard Hermione’s choked scream, Harry’s ragged breath, Ron’s hoarse shout—everything distorted by the thunder of chaos. The three of them were only feet away, desperate and bloodied, backs pressed against stone as the fight splintered around them.

You reached for Harry, fingers outstretched, but the magic hit you square in the chest.

And you were falling— Through time itself.

── .✦

When you opened your eyes, the Forbidden Forest was far younger. The trees were taller, the air less burdened with ghosts. You tasted autumn in your throat. Time had slipped backward, cruel and nameless, and dropped you into a decade where your existence was an error.

But you were alive.

Alone.

You spent the first week haunting the forest’s edge like a ghost, walking its shadowed paths with trembling hands. You whispered Harry’s name into the wind, over and over, as if he might somehow hear you across time. You expected Ron to stumble through the underbrush, muddy and panting, calling you an idiot for getting yourself cursed. You waited for Hermione’s clever hands to grab your wrist and yank you back into the war.

But they never came.

Instead, you stood before the castle doors—haunted and hollow—and walked back into the school you had already left behind.

── .✦

You were sorted into Slytherin. The Hat perched on your head seemed to hum with ancient curiosity, peeling back your layers and tasting the war on your tongue.

“Oh,” it murmured, almost gently. “You’ve already fought your battles, haven’t you?”

You squeezed your eyes shut. Please, just make it quick.

It considered you carefully. Measured the iron and fire in your bones, the loyalty stitched so violently into your chest.

But it placed you in Slytherin, and you didn’t argue. You were already too tired to protest.

── .✦

It started with James. It was always James.

He had a terrible habit of appearing out of nowhere. You’d be walking down the hall, perfectly content to avoid unnecessary attention, when suddenly, his arm would be slung over your shoulders as if it belonged there.

“You’ve got to stop looking so suspicious, snake,” he drawled one day, grinning lazily. “People might start thinking you’re up to something.”

You glanced at him, unimpressed. “I am up to something.”

James’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “Yeah?” he smirked, leaning closer, voice low with mock suspicion. “Planning to kidnap me? Hex me into oblivion? Steal my heart?”

You deadpanned. “I was thinking more along the lines of poisoning your pumpkin juice, but sure.”

He laughed far too loudly for the middle of the corridor, earning glares from passing professors.

“Oh, she’s funny,” he announced loudly to no one in particular, hands over his heart. “Merlin, I think I’m in love.”

You shoved him off, fighting the way your stomach fluttered, but he caught your wrist before you could escape. His grip was firm but gentle, and when you glanced at him over your shoulder, his eyes were far too soft.

“Let me walk you to class,” he murmured, the grin slipping into something warmer.

You should have told him no. But you didn’t.

── .✦

You found yourself tangled with the Marauders far too quickly.

They were impossible to avoid—loud and ungovernable, a storm of mischief and chaos that you had no hope of resisting. You were stolen into their orbit before you could fight it, dragged into their endless schemes and reckless antics.

One morning, you were sitting by the lake, boots kicked off, enjoying the rare sliver of peace. You had foolishly thought you were alone.

Then a shadow fell over you.

“Hello there, Slytherin,” Sirius Black’s voice drawled lazily from above you.

You didn’t bother looking up. “Go away, Black.”

Sirius plopped himself down beside you, entirely ignoring your protest. He stretched out his legs with a contented sigh, as if he belonged there.

Moments later, James appeared, dropping down beside you with a casual grin.

“Morning, love,” he greeted cheerfully, far too pleased with himself.

You narrowed your eyes. “Why do you sound so smug?”

James’s grin widened. “Oh, no reason. I may have just turned McGonagall’s teacup into a toad. But, you know, totally hypothetical.”

You stared at him. “You’re going to die one day, you know that, right?”

“Probably,” James agreed easily, slinging an arm around your shoulders with infuriating charm. “But at least I’ll die with you scolding me. Very romantic.”

Before you could shove him into the lake, Remus strolled over with an exasperated sigh. He paused, taking in the sight of James practically draped over you, and arched a brow.

“Are you bothering her again?” Remus asked, voice dry as parchment.

James beamed. “She likes it.”

You snorted. “I loathe it.”

Sirius, clearly feeling left out, threw himself dramatically into your lap, draping one arm across his forehead with an exaggerated sigh.

“Why,” he drawled dramatically, “why does she only have eyes for James?”

You shoved him half-heartedly, but he only cackled and threw his arms around your waist.

“Get off me, Black!” you spluttered.

James, narrowing his eyes with faux jealousy, nudged Sirius none too gently with his knee. “Oi, off. She’s mine.”

Sirius gasped, clutching his chest. “Yours? Possessive much, Prongs? I knew you were a selfish bastard, but this—this is heartbreaking.”

James rolled his eyes, giving you an exaggerated look of betrayal. “Are you cheating on me with my best mate?”

You snorted. “If I were, you’d deserve it.”

Peter arrived late to the scene, holding a half-eaten pastry, and squinted at the chaos. “Wait—are you two dating?” he asked, blinking between you and James.

“Of course we are,” James said with mock indignation, eyes glinting wickedly. “Didn’t you get the wedding invitation, Wormtail?”

Sirius, still sprawled across your legs, clutched at your hand. “It’s true! She’s only marrying him for his money, you know. I tried to warn him.”

You shoved Sirius off you with a laugh, but James caught your wrist before you could scramble away. His grip was warm, his fingers curling around yours, far gentler than they should have been. When you glanced at him, his eyes were bright with mischief—but there was something softer beneath it. Something you weren’t quite ready to name.

And you hated that you didn’t pull away. Hated how much you liked the way he held on.

── .✦

You should have left. You should have walked away.

But when James kissed you for the first time beneath the clock tower, you let yourself fall.

── .✦

There are no stars tonight—only the burn of borrowed time.

James kissed you in every corner of Hogwarts.

He kissed you by the Black Lake, where the reeds bent with the wind and the water lapped at your boots. He kissed you in the hidden passageways behind the tapestry of Gregory the Smarmy, his fingers fisted in your robes, dragging you against him as if he could anchor you there forever.

And you let him. You let him because he didn’t know the truth.

He didn’t know that when you kissed him, you were tasting borrowed time. That when you clutched at his robes, you were holding on to something already slipping through your fingers.

Because you knew. You knew that one day he would look at you and see nothing but betrayal.

And when the truth finally came—it broke you.

── .✦

It was never meant to slip out.

You had spent months dodging questions, weaving careful half-truths and white lies. James had been curious, of course. He was a Gryffindor, after all—reckless and brash, always needing to know why.

But he trusted you. And it made it too easy to lie.

Until one night, when it all came unraveled.

── .✦

It happened in the Gryffindor common room.

The fire had burned low, its light casting long, honeyed shadows across the rug where the Marauders sat sprawled in their usual disarray. Sirius was lounging with his head in Remus’s lap, tossing Bertie Bott’s beans at Peter, who swatted at him with a scowl. James sat on the floor with his back against the couch, legs stretched out, fingers idly playing with the fraying hem of your sleeve.

You had barely noticed. You were too lost in the sound of their laughter, the way their voices filled the room—so young, so unbroken. For a moment, you let yourself forget. You let yourself imagine that this was your world. That you belonged here.

And then Sirius, ever reckless with his sharp-edged tongue, grinned at you through half-lidded eyes.

“So, how’d a Slytherin like you get mixed up with the likes of us?” he teased, lazily twirling his wand between his fingers. “You never did say, y’know.”

You smiled faintly, already preparing a half-hearted lie. “Fate, I suppose.”

But Sirius was grinning now, mischievous and sharp. “Come on,” he pressed. “I want a proper story. Surely you’ve got some deep, dark secret.”

Your breath caught slightly.

James must have felt the way you tensed beneath his touch. His fingers stilled against your sleeve, and he glanced at you, concern flaring subtly in his eyes.

But you forced a laugh, too light, too strained. “I hate to disappoint, Black,” you said, voice tight, “but I’m painfully boring.”

“Liar,” Sirius grinned, poking you in the ribs with his wand.

And then— Without meaning to— Without thinking—

You said his name.

You said it softly, a slip of the tongue, a betrayal on your lips.

“Harry.”

The room fell silent.

For a heartbeat, the only sound was the low crackle of the dying fire.

And then James stilled.

The playful glint in his eyes vanished, his fingers curling slightly in the fabric of your sleeve. You felt the tension flood his limbs—the subtle stiffening of his spine, the sudden sharpness in his breath.

He turned slowly to look at you.

“Who?” His voice was low, almost gentle.

Too gentle. Like the eye of a storm.

Your throat tightened. You opened your mouth, scrambling for a lie, but the name hung between you—raw and damning.

Sirius frowned. “Who’s Harry?”

And James— James was already staring at you, the light in his eyes splintering into something sharp, something disbelieving.

You tried to move, but his hand shot out, gripping your wrist with a force that was far too desperate.

“Wait,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “Wait.”

The others were watching now, their laughter gone, eyes narrowed in confusion. But James—James wasn’t looking at them. He was only looking at you.

“Say it again,” he breathed. His voice cracked. “Who did you just say?”

You opened your mouth. Nothing came.

James’s grip tightened slightly, his knuckles white around your wrist. His voice, usually so steady, shook.

“Please.”

You felt yourself tremble. Because you couldn’t lie anymore. Not to him. Not when he was holding you like that— As if you were already slipping through his fingers.

And so you whispered it. Soft. Barely louder than a breath.

“Harry.”

The color drained from James’s face.

He dropped your wrist like it burned him, his hand falling limply to his side. His mouth opened slightly, but no words came—only a sharp breath, hitched and uneven.

“Harry,” he echoed, voice hollow.

You saw it then— The moment the pieces fit together. The realization in his eyes. The slow, devastating comprehension.

And then he was on his feet.

“James—” you started, reaching for him.

But he stumbled backward, out of reach. His chest was heaving slightly, his hands shaking at his sides.

“Don’t,” he croaked.

Sirius and Remus were on their feet now, eyes wide and confused.

“James, what the bloody hell is going on?” Sirius demanded.

But James only shook his head. He took another step back, looking at you as if he had never seen you before.

And then he turned and left.

── .✦

You found him in the Astronomy Tower.

The night was cold, the stars scattered wide and indifferent. He was leaning against the stone railing, knuckles white where his hands gripped the edge, his back to you.

“James,” you breathed softly.

He didn’t turn around. He didn’t look at you.

“Who is he?” His voice was hoarse, barely louder than a whisper.

You stared at him. The boy you loved. The boy you were going to lose.

You swallowed hard. “He’s your son.”

James stiffened. His knuckles went even whiter against the stone. For a long moment, he didn’t move.

And then he exhaled, sharp and broken.

“My son,” he repeated slowly, voice cracking. “From the future.”

You stepped toward him, cautiously, as if you might scare him off.

“I didn’t mean for you to find out,” you rasped. “I—I didn’t know how to tell you. I—”

But James spun around sharply, and his eyes—oh, his eyes.

They were wide and wild, brimming with too much emotion for one person to hold.

“You lied to me,” he choked.

You shook your head violently. “No, I didn’t—James, I didn’t lie—”

“You knew!” His voice cracked, sharp with anguish. “You knew this whole time. And you let me—” His voice broke, and he dragged a shaking hand through his hair. “You let me love you anyway.”

Your throat tightened, your heart splintering in your chest.

“James,” you whispered.

But he only stared at you, eyes glimmering with disbelief, with heartbreak.

“You’re not mine,” he rasped, voice raw. “You never were.”

You choked on a sob, closing the distance between you. Your hands cupped his face, trembling fingers brushing against his cheeks.

But when you leaned in—when you pressed your mouth against his, desperate and pleading— He didn’t kiss you back.

He only stood there, motionless, as your lips pressed against his. And when you pulled away, he was already slipping through your fingers.

But you didn’t let go. And somehow, impossibly, he didn’t either.

── .✦

There are no stars tonight—only the slow ruin of hearts breaking in real time.

You stood in the Astronomy Tower long after James had gone.

The stone railing was still warm from where his hands had been, but the boy himself—the boy with honey eyes and a wicked grin—was gone. You pressed trembling fingers against the cold stone, the ache splintering in your chest so violently you thought it might hollow you out.

And you stayed there. Even after the stars grew weary. Even after the wind bit cruelly at your skin.

Because the only thing worse than knowing James Potter might never love you again— Was knowing that he once did.

── .✦

You tried everything to make it right.

But he was gone.

He was still there, of course—still James, still a boy with fire in his chest and golden laughter in his throat. But he was no longer your James.

He stopped sitting beside you at breakfast. He stopped brushing against your arm when you walked beside him.

He didn’t meet your eyes when you passed him in the corridor. Didn’t glance at you when Sirius slung an arm around your shoulders in the common room.

It was worse than hatred. Because there was no fire in his eyes. Only distance.

And you were drowning in it.

── .✦

The Marauders noticed. Of course they did.

You were walking beside Remus one morning, heading toward Transfiguration, when he slowed his pace, falling into step beside you. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, too perceptive by half.

“You look tired,” he murmured softly.

You offered him a weak smile. “I’m fine.”

Remus sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not fine,” he countered gently, his voice low. “And he’s not fine either.”

You didn’t say anything. You only gripped your books tighter.

And Remus—Remus, who had always known how to read you—lowered his voice slightly.

“He still looks at you, you know,” he murmured, so softly it was nearly lost to the crowd.

Your throat tightened.

You didn’t ask who he meant. You didn’t have to.

── .✦

You tried. Merlin, you tried.

You cornered James in the hallway once, days later.

You didn’t think. You just grabbed his wrist as he walked by, gripping him too tightly, too desperate. His breath hitched slightly at the contact, but he didn’t pull away. He didn’t meet your eyes either.

“James,” you rasped, your voice barely louder than a breath. “Please.”

You didn’t even know what you were begging for. But it didn’t matter.

Because James closed his eyes, as if you hurt him just by standing there, and carefully pried your hand from his wrist.

And he walked away without saying a word.

── .✦

You started avoiding him after that.

If he didn’t want you, you wouldn’t force him to see you. You let him have his space. You sat at the Slytherin table for meals again, pretending you didn’t feel his eyes burning into your back.

You stopped walking by the Quidditch pitch in the evenings, unwilling to watch him practice, unwilling to risk seeing him so golden and alive when you were breaking apart.

You no longer reached for him when you were cold. You no longer leaned against him in the common room. You no longer laughed when he tugged at your hair or stole the last of your pumpkin pasty.

And you told yourself it was for the best.

But oh— It hurt.

── .✦

You were going to give up.

You had almost made your peace with it. Almost.

Until that night.

── .✦

It was raining. The sort of rain that slapped against the windows in sheets, a relentless downpour that filled the corridors with a low, mournful hum.

You had been walking back from the library, exhausted and hollow-eyed, your boots heavy against the stone floor. Your hair was damp from the drizzle that had clung to you on your way back from the Owlery.

You didn’t even see him at first.

James was standing by the window at the end of the corridor, his back turned to you. His hands were braced against the sill, shoulders hunched slightly, damp curls clinging to the nape of his neck.

You should have walked away. You should have kept going.

But you didn’t.

You stood there, watching him in the half-light, letting yourself pretend for one final moment that he still belonged to you.

And then you turned. Ready to leave. Ready to walk away.

But then he spoke.

“Don’t.”

His voice was low, hoarse—so quiet you barely heard it over the rain.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat.

And slowly, slowly, James turned around.

You saw his face, and your heart splintered. Because he was staring at you the way he once did. Like he was falling. Like he was still falling.

And then he was moving. Two steps, then three— And suddenly he was right in front of you, too close, his chest heaving slightly.

For a heartbeat, neither of you moved. You only stared at each other— Breathless. Broken.

And then he cupped your face with trembling hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks as if memorizing the shape of you.

“I hate you,” he rasped.

Your throat tightened.

“I know,” you whispered brokenly.

But James shook his head sharply, his grip tightening slightly. His voice cracked, raw and uneven.

“No, you don’t,” he choked. “I hate you for making me fall in love with you, knowing you’d leave.” His breath hitched. “I hate you for letting me hold you when you already belonged to a different time.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, a sharp sob splintering in your throat. “James—”

But his hands tightened on your face, trembling slightly, pulling you closer.

“And I hate,” he whispered brokenly, forehead pressed against yours, “that I never stopped loving you.”

You let out a soft, broken sob— And then you were kissing him.

Hard. Furious. Desperate.

Your hands fisted in his robes, dragging him closer, anchoring yourself to him. And James—James was everywhere. His hands slipped into your hair, fingers tangling desperately, as if he could keep you there forever.

When you pulled away, both of you were gasping. His forehead pressed against yours, his breath uneven, his eyes burning.

“You idiot,” you whispered softly, trembling against him. “You absolute idiot. I was never going to leave you.”

James let out a low, choked sound, half-sob, half-laugh, and then he was kissing you again.

And this time— When he held you, He didn’t let go.

── .✦

You stayed. Time bent for you.

The war came. You fought beside him. You saved them all—James, Lily, Harry. The future was rewritten, the grief undone.

And when you stood with James beneath the canopy of a thousand stars, his hands holding yours, you pressed your lips to his knuckles and whispered,

“I would have loved you in every timeline, you know.”

And he smiled. Because he already knew.

── .✦

Time is not linear. It bends for love. It always does.

── .✦

You never thought you’d get to see it—the future you were fighting for.

But somehow, impossibly, you did. And it was beautiful.

── .✦

The war ended differently this time.

Voldemort fell. Not in the ruins of Godric’s Hollow or the halls of Hogwarts, but in a forest clearing, far from the children who should never have had to bleed for a future that should have been theirs.

You were there beside James. You fought with him—back to back, his voice hoarse with spells and shouted warnings, his hand reaching for yours even in the chaos.

And when it was over—when the last curse had been cast and the world stood still—James found you in the crowd.

His hands were shaking when he grabbed you. His knuckles bloodied, his robes torn, his hair damp with sweat. But his eyes were bright and wild and alive.

And he kissed you like you were oxygen. Like he had spent a lifetime holding his breath. Like he had been waiting for you across a thousand timelines.

── .✦

You stood beside him when the world was rebuilt.

You were there when Sirius was declared innocent, when he was free to walk into the sun with his head held high, grinning like a boy unburdened by ghosts.

You were there when Remus spoke softly in the quiet hours of the morning, voice trembling with hope, confessing that he had always wanted more than to simply survive.

You were there when Harry was born—alive and safe. When James held his son in his arms and cried without shame, his tears falling into the wild tufts of black hair on the baby’s head.

And you were there when James placed a trembling kiss against your temple, Harry cradled between you, and whispered,

“We did it.”

── .✦

Two years later, you were standing beside James at Lily and Severus’s wedding.

You had almost laughed when the invitation arrived. The ornate script, written in Lily’s elegant hand, had carried far too much smugness for a simple piece of parchment. The words had been formal and lovely, but you could still hear her voice in them—sweet and knowing, the subtext far too clear.

Told you so.

And now, standing in the evening glow of the wedding canopy, you watched as the girl with fire-bright hair clasped her hands with the boy who had once nearly lost her forever.

Severus stood at the altar, tall and lean, still a little stoic, still a little brooding—but there was softness in his eyes. A gentleness in the way he held Lily’s hands, his thumb brushing over her knuckles with quiet reverence.

And Lily—oh, she was radiant. Her hair was loose and wild, tumbling down her back in copper curls, adorned with tiny white flowers that twined through the strands. Her smile was bright enough to soften even Snape’s sharp edges, her eyes crinkling slightly at the corners as she gazed at him with unguarded adoration.

You glanced at James, who was watching them with a boyish grin, his arms folded lazily across his chest. His hair was windswept and unruly as always, the golden sunset catching the edges and turning them molten.

“They’re going to be insufferable about this, you know,” James murmured with a grin, leaning slightly into your side.

You hummed softly, tilting your head toward him. “Oh, absolutely. Lily will probably gloat about being right for the next decade.”

James smirked, dark eyes glinting with mischief. “Ten galleons says Snivellus cries during the vows.”

You shot him a deadpan look. “James, you can’t bet on their wedding.”

But he only grinned wider. “What, afraid you’ll lose?”

You rolled your eyes but fought a smile, elbowing him lightly in the ribs.

And when Lily walked down the aisle—when Severus turned toward her with something painfully soft in his eyes—James slipped his hand into yours.

His fingers wove between yours, warm and steady. His thumb brushed slow circles against your palm, as if he were trying to memorize the shape of your hand.

And when you glanced at him— He was already looking at you.

His eyes were dark and golden and entirely too soft, shining with something far too raw for a wedding.

And you knew. Right then. That he was thinking about every version of you he had ever lost. Every version of you he had loved.

And so you leaned over slightly, your voice barely louder than a breath.

“Stop looking at me like that, Potter,” you murmured teasingly.

James’s lips curved slightly, but his eyes didn’t soften. They only burned brighter.

“Like what?” he whispered, his voice barely louder than the breeze, laced with unmistakable reverence.

“Like you’re in love with me,” you teased softly, arching a playful brow.

And James—James smiled softly, eyes molten with warmth, voice rough with emotion.

“I am in love with you,” he whispered simply.

And then he was leaning down, brushing his lips against yours—slow and gentle, as if the whole world had slowed just for you.

── .✦

Later, when the sun had dipped below the horizon and the stars spilled carelessly across the sky, you stood in the garden with James, Harry fast asleep in his arms.

The evening was warm, the wind gentle, carrying the faint sound of music from the reception. The canopy was still aglow with golden lights, casting everything in soft, honeyed hues.

You watched as James shifted Harry carefully in his arms, his hand splayed protectively across his son’s back. The baby snuffled softly against his chest, tiny hands curled into fists, his breathing slow and steady.

You reached out, brushing a soft lock of hair from Harry’s forehead, and James glanced at you.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You only stood there, bathed in the amber glow of the evening, watching the stars blink sleepily overhead.

And then James, voice barely louder than a whisper, murmured,

“Marry me.”

You froze.

Your eyes flicked to him, searching his face—certain you had misheard. But James was only looking at you softly, his eyes wide and unguarded, his voice steady despite the slight tremor in his hand.

You stared at him, your heart stuttering violently.

“James,” you breathed softly, barely able to say his name.

But he only smiled. Soft and slow and so achingly sincere.

“Marry me,” he whispered again. His voice was hoarse, barely louder than a breath. “I—I know it’s sudden. I know we’ve already stolen so much time. But—” He exhaled sharply, his voice breaking slightly. “I want this. With you. Always.”

You stared at him, your throat tightening, your eyes burning with tears you couldn’t hold back.

And when you reached for him—when your hand pressed against his cheek and you nodded, unable to speak through the lump in your throat—James let out a shaky, disbelieving breath.

And he kissed you.

Soft and trembling and impossibly tender, tasting of hope and home and every version of you he had ever loved.

And you kissed him back— Knowing that this time, In this life, You were his forever.

── .✦

Love is timeless. It does not belong to one lifetime. It exists across all of them.

── .✦

You were trembling.

Not with fear, not exactly. But with something bigger. Something heavier.

The morning sun spilled through the enormous windows of the bridal suite, bathing everything in soft, golden hues. You stood barefoot on the cool stone floor, wrapped in a silk dressing gown, staring at your reflection in the floor-length mirror.

Your fingers were cold. Your knees felt a little weak.

You were getting married. To James Potter.

And somehow, the thought made it harder to breathe.

Not because you were afraid. But because the weight of happiness pressed so fiercely against your chest, you thought it might shatter you.

── .✦

“Are you trying to hyperventilate, or does that just come naturally?”

You glanced over your shoulder to find Bellatrix standing in the doorway, one dark brow arched, her lips curled into a smirk.

She was stunning, as always, dressed in elegant silver robes that caught the morning light, the fabric shimmering faintly as she stepped into the room. Her black curls tumbled in perfect, wicked waves down her back, and her eyes glimmered with mischief.

But when she saw the trembling in your hands, the playful glint softened slightly.

“Hey,” she murmured, striding over, her voice low and surprisingly gentle. She took your hands in hers, squeezing them slightly. “You’re all right.”

You let out a shaky breath, laughing weakly. “I feel like I might pass out.”

Bellatrix’s lips twitched faintly. “I mean, if you want to cause a scene at your own wedding, be my guest. Would be pretty dramatic. Very on brand.”

You let out a watery laugh, squeezing her hands.

And then you felt a soft hand on your shoulder.

Narcissa appeared beside you, her pale blonde hair cascading in soft waves over her shoulders. She was elegant and ethereal, dressed in ice-blue robes that brought out the sharp cut of her eyes. But her voice, as always, was soft.

“You look beautiful,” she murmured, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face.

You swallowed thickly, your throat tightening.

And then there was Lily.

She stepped into the room, her auburn hair glimmering with tiny pearls woven into the braid that circled her crown. Her smile was impossibly bright, her eyes warm with too much emotion.

She held up a handkerchief dramatically. “Don’t even think about crying yet,” she teased, her voice trembling slightly despite her playful tone. “Save it for the aisle, or I swear, I’ll hex you.”

You let out a strangled laugh, already blinking back tears.

And when the three of them crowded around you—Bellatrix playfully poking at your hair, Narcissa fastening the delicate bracelet around your wrist, and Lily brushing a bit of gloss onto your lips—you felt the trembling in your hands finally still.

── .✦

The music began to play.

You stood at the edge of the garden, your hands trembling slightly around the bouquet of white lilies and wildflowers. The sun was warm against your face, the sky a soft, cloudless blue, the air perfumed with the scent of roses and honeysuckle.

And then— Harry, your precious little ring bearer, toddled out onto the stone pathway.

He was dressed in a tiny, perfectly tailored black suit, with his wild black hair sticking up in every possible direction. He held the little velvet pillow in his small hands, his bright green eyes wide with delight as the crowd let out a collective coo.

When he spotted you standing in the archway, his face split into a gap-toothed grin, and he squealed,

“Mummy!”

You let out a watery laugh, your chest tightening painfully.

But when you finally took that first step— When you slowly made your way down the aisle, surrounded by the people you loved— Your eyes found only one person.

James.

And oh, he was already crying.

You saw him before he saw you. Standing there at the end of the aisle, dressed in tailored black dress robes, the collar slightly askew, his hair hopelessly messy in that perfectly disheveled way. His hands were trembling faintly at his sides, his lips parted slightly as he stared at you.

And when his eyes finally met yours— His breath caught audibly in his throat.

You saw the moment it hit him. The moment he realized that this was real. That he wasn’t dreaming. That you were walking toward him— To be his. Forever.

And then he let out a sharp, uneven breath, his eyes glimmering with unshed tears. He dragged a hand roughly through his hair, laughing wetly through the emotion clogging his throat.

Sirius, standing beside him, smirked and clapped him roughly on the back, grinning smugly. “Told you you’d cry, mate.”

James sniffled, his voice breaking slightly. “Shut up, Pads.”

And then his eyes were back on you.

And he was beaming. Like he was seeing the sun for the first time. Like he was falling in love with you all over again.

You barely remembered walking the rest of the way. All you could see was him.

And when you finally reached him—when he took your trembling hands in his—you felt your whole chest constrict.

Because he was crying so softly, his thumbs brushing over your knuckles as if he were trying to memorize the shape of you. His hands were warm and trembling, his voice rough with emotion.

“You’re so beautiful,” he choked, voice barely louder than a breath. His eyes burned fiercely, glassy and golden. “You’re—you’re so beautiful, love.”

You let out a watery laugh, squeezing his hands.

And then the vows came.

James was shaking slightly when he slipped the ring onto your finger. His voice cracked halfway through the words, and he let out a shaky, breathless laugh, blinking rapidly.

His hands were warm, his eyes glassy and reverent as he whispered the words against your knuckles.

“I choose you,” he murmured, his voice trembling. “I’ll always choose you. In every time, in every life. It’s you.”

And when you pressed your trembling lips to his—when you felt his hands tighten desperately at your waist, holding you as though you might slip away—you knew.

That you had never belonged to just one lifetime. You had belonged to all of them. To him. Always.

── .✦

Later, when the sun was low and the garden was alight with golden lanterns, you stood with James in the orchard.

The reception carried on behind you—the clinking of glasses and soft laughter drifting through the night—but James didn’t seem to care.

He had abandoned his tie long ago, and his hair was a mess of unruly curls, golden in the lantern glow. His arms were wrapped around you, holding you too tightly, as if he was still afraid you might disappear.

“You’re mine now,” he whispered playfully against your ear, his voice low and honeyed, pressing soft kisses against your neck.

You smiled against his shoulder. “I was always yours.”

James pulled back slightly, eyes dark and molten. His voice softened, barely louder than a breath.

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he whispered hoarsely.

And when you kissed him beneath the canopy of golden lights, with the stars spilling wide and endless above you, James Potter held you like he had loved you across a thousand timelines.

Because he had. And he always would.

── .✦

Time had bent for you. It had splintered and unraveled and stitched itself back together just to bring you here— Into his arms. Where you were always meant to be.

── .✦

The stars were burning softly above the orchard, spilling across the inky blackness in glimmering constellations, as if the entire universe had come to witness the ending of your story.

Or rather, the beginning of it.

Because you weren’t running anymore. You weren’t slipping between timelines or losing yourself to fate. You were here—rooted firmly in this life, this time, with James Potter’s hands tangled in yours.

And Merlin, he was still looking at you like he couldn’t quite believe you were real.

── .✦

The reception was still alive behind you—laughter and music floating lazily through the orchard. Golden lanterns swung gently from the low branches, casting honeyed light over the dark grass.

But James didn’t seem to notice any of it.

You were his whole world.

His tie was long discarded, and his robes hung loosely around him, a few buttons undone at his collar. His hair—already unruly from the hours of dancing—was an utter mess, windswept and falling into his eyes in hopeless curls.

He was absolutely breathtaking.

And he was holding you too tightly, like he still wasn’t entirely convinced you were real.

“Merlin, I can’t stop looking at you,” he murmured, his voice rough with something deeper than reverence. His thumb brushed slowly over the back of your hand. “You’re so—bloody hell, look at you.”

You let out a breathless laugh, warmth blooming in your chest. “You’re making me sound like some divine vision, Potter,” you teased softly.

James’s lips curved slightly, but his eyes softened with something almost dangerous—something entirely too raw and reverent.

“Because you are,” he murmured, his voice so low it made your skin flush.

Your breath caught slightly at the weight of his words. At the warmth in his eyes. At the softness in his touch.

And then—because you were helpless against him—you reached up, brushing your fingers softly through his windswept hair. You let the tips of your fingers trail down the side of his face, tracing the sharp edge of his jaw.

James’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment. His breath stuttered slightly, the warmth of it fanning against your wrist.

And when he opened them again— His eyes were dark. Molten. Utterly ruined by you.

── .✦

You didn’t know how long you stood there, swaying slightly in the golden lamplight. You didn’t know how many times James pressed his lips to your knuckles, as if trying to memorize the feel of you in his hands.

But you knew that you weren’t in a hurry.

You let him pull you close, let him bury his face against your neck, breathing you in like you were air. His arms were loose around your waist, his thumbs slipping beneath the fabric of your dress, brushing slow, idle circles against the small of your back.

And when you shifted slightly in his arms, leaning into him— James let out a low, breathless sound that made your skin flush beneath the fabric of your dress.

── .✦

“Dance with me,” he murmured against your ear, his breath warm against your throat.

You let out a breathless laugh. “James, there’s no music out here.”

But he only pulled back slightly, his eyes glimmering with boyish mischief. “Since when do I need music to dance with my wife?”

The word wife sent a shiver down your spine, settling warm and heavy in your chest. And he must have seen it in your eyes. Because James’s lips curled into a wicked grin.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” he murmured, voice low and teasing, his nose brushing lightly against yours. “You like being my wife.”

You let out a soft, breathless laugh, rolling your eyes. “I suppose it has its perks,” you teased lightly.

James’s grin widened, his voice a low, playful rasp. “Oh, does it?”

And then he was spinning you in the dim light of the orchard, twirling you beneath the canopy of golden lanterns, his hands warm and steady in yours.

You laughed breathlessly as he tugged you close, arms winding securely around you. You pressed your face against his chest, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat settle against your cheek.

And James— James pressed his lips against your temple, his voice a low, lazy drawl.

“You’re stuck with me now,” he murmured playfully against your hair, his hands sliding slowly, reverently over your back. “No take-backs. You married me. It’s legally binding and everything.”

You let out a soft, breathless laugh, tilting your head back to meet his eyes. And Merlin, he was still looking at you with so much love it made your knees weak.

“Oh, I think I’ll manage,” you teased lightly, brushing your fingertips over the back of his neck.

James’s eyes glimmered with warmth, but his voice softened, barely louder than a breath.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered reverently, as if saying it too loudly would shatter you. His thumb traced along your cheekbone, eyes dark with awe. “You’re—you’re so bloody beautiful, love.”

You leaned into his touch, your lips parting softly.

And then he was kissing you.

Softly at first. Slow and reverent, his lips barely brushing over yours— As if he were still tasting the promise of forever on your mouth.

But then— Then the kiss deepened.

James’s hands slid lower, gripping your waist tightly, pulling you flush against him. You let out a soft, surprised gasp, and James swallowed the sound with a low, breathless hum, his lips dragging over yours with slow, teasing purpose.

His fingers splayed over the small of your back, slipping just beneath the fabric of your dress, his touch impossibly warm. He pressed you closer, as if he could make you a part of him— As if he were still afraid you might slip through his fingers.

“Merlin, I love you,” he rasped against your lips, his voice low and uneven, hoarse with longing. His teeth grazed your bottom lip slightly, sending a delicious shiver down your spine.

And oh— You were trembling slightly in his arms. Not with nervousness. But with want.

And James— James, who had always been golden and mischievous and utterly smitten— Noticed immediately.

His eyes darkened slightly. His lips parted faintly, breath uneven.

“Love,” he murmured lowly, his voice rough around the edges, “if you keep looking at me like that, I might do something utterly indecent at our wedding reception.”

You let out a breathless laugh, cheeks flushing faintly. “Oh? That’s unlike you, Potter,” you teased, your voice barely louder than a murmur.

And James— Oh, he grinned wickedly, lowering his mouth to your ear.

“You have no idea, Mrs. Potter.”

His voice was a low rasp, his lips grazing the shell of your ear with slow, torturous reverence. His breath was warm against your skin, and his fingers—Merlin, his fingers were dangerously slow as they traced teasing circles along your spine.

Your breath caught slightly, your heart hammering violently in your chest. And James—James only grinned wider.

“Shall we sneak away, love?” he murmured silkily, brushing a teasing kiss against your throat, lips warm and deliberate. “Or do I have to suffer through another hour of dancing with respectable people before I get you all to myself?”

You laughed softly, breathless, your cheeks warm and flushed.

And when you leaned up on your toes, brushing your lips teasingly against his, you whispered,

“Take me home, Mr. Potter.”

And James— James smiled against your lips, utterly ruined by you. Because you already were. You always had been. His home.

── .✦

The universe had been cruel. It had torn you from your timeline, stripped you from the arms of the people you loved, and scattered you across history. But in return— It gave you this. Him. Them. A future you had never dared to dream of.

── .✦

The cottage was small, but it was yours.

Tucked away in the countryside, hidden behind sprawling fields of wildflowers and enchanted thickets, it stood like something out of a dream. The stone walls were weathered but sturdy, honey-gold in the morning sun. The windows were always open, letting in the scent of lavender and fresh-cut grass, and the chimney was forever puffing lazy ribbons of smoke into the sky.

It wasn’t grand. It wasn’t a manor. But it was warm and worn and safe. And it was home.

── .✦

You awoke slowly to the feel of warm, slightly chapped lips pressing soft, lazy kisses along your shoulder.

You let out a drowsy sigh, rolling over slightly to meet James’s half-lidded gaze. His hair was an absolute mess—dark and rumpled and deliciously wild against the pillows. His eyes were still heavy with sleep, golden in the morning light, and he was looking at you like you were the first sunrise he had ever seen.

“Morning, Mrs. Potter,” he murmured hoarsely, voice thick with sleep, his lips brushing lightly over the tip of your nose.

You smiled faintly, brushing a hand through his hair. “Morning, Mr. Potter.”

James let out a soft, contented hum, burying his face into the curve of your neck. His arms tightened slightly around your waist, pulling you closer, as if the entire bed were too big without you in his arms.

“Mmm, don’t move,” he grumbled drowsily, his voice muffled against your skin. “You’re warm. Stay right here. Forever.”

You let out a sleepy laugh, running your fingers lazily through the thick curls at the nape of his neck.

But then— A loud crash echoed from the hallway, followed by the unmistakable sound of something heavy hitting the floor.

You and James froze.

Then— The distinct sound of tiny, gleeful giggles.

James groaned dramatically, his face still buried against your throat. “Your son is a menace,” he mumbled, voice muffled with mock exhaustion.

You smiled, brushing your lips lightly against the crown of his head. “Our son,” you corrected softly, but there was nothing but adoration in your voice.

James let out a low, exaggerated groan, flopping onto his back. “Merlin help me.”

And then the bedroom door burst open.

“Da!! Mummy!!”

Harry, still in his little blue pajamas, came sprinting into the room, clutching a suspiciously bent toy broom in one hand. His wild black hair was an absolute disaster—sticking up in every possible direction, an adorable replica of his father’s morning mess. His green eyes were wide with childish delight, a bright, mischievous grin tugging at his tiny lips.

He launched himself onto the bed with absolutely no regard for either of you.

James let out a low oof as Harry pounced onto his chest, sprawling over him with all the elegance of a baby thestral.

“Merlin’s beard, Prongs Junior!” James groaned dramatically, mock-gasping for air. “You’re going to break my ribs, you absolute menace.”

But Harry only grinned wider, clearly unimpressed with his father’s suffering, and bounced gleefully on James’s chest.

James made a loud, strangled, dying-man sort of sound, throwing his head back with mock agony. “Darling!! Help me! Our son is trying to murder me!”

You arched a brow, lips twitching. “Oh no,” you deadpanned flatly. “How tragic.”

James shot you an utterly betrayed look, gaping at you like you had personally destroyed his soul.

“You betrayed me, wife?” he gasped, clutching his chest dramatically.

Harry squealed with delight at his father’s theatrics, utterly oblivious to James’s Oscar-worthy performance of a man meeting his untimely end.

You simply shook your head with mock solemnity, rolling your eyes. “Potter, you’re being outwitted by a four-year-old.”

James stared at you, lips twitching with mock indignation, then turned his attention back to the tiny boy currently using him as a human trampoline.

“Oi, you,” he gasped weakly at Harry, voice hoarse with false agony. “Don’t you want to save your dear old dad? Be my hero? My knight in shining armor?”

Harry only giggled maniacally, gripping his bent broomstick and declaring with great importance, “I’m gonna be a seeker!”

James let out a soft, incredulous laugh, eyes bright with warmth.

“Merlin, you’re going to give me a heart attack,” he muttered, ruffling his son’s hair fondly. But he was grinning like a fool, eyes glimmering with a ridiculous amount of pride.

You watched them quietly for a moment. James. Harry. Your entire world pressed into the same bed, giggling beneath the golden morning light.

And just for a moment— You allowed yourself to pretend you had always belonged here.

── .✦

The fireplace roared suddenly with green flames, and in strolled Sirius Black, entirely uninvited.

“Prongs!” Sirius barked cheerfully, arms flung wide as if announcing his arrival to a crowd of thousands. “I come bearing whiskey, terrible advice, and absolutely no concept of personal boundaries!”

James’s grin widened immediately. “Now there’s my responsible fatherhood role model.”

You groaned softly, covering your face with one hand. “Oh no.”

But it was already too late.

Sirius strolled into the living room like he owned the place, his black hair tousled in artful disarray, a cocky grin tugging at his lips. He bent down dramatically, ruffling Harry’s hair with enough force to make the boy squeal with delighted laughter.

“Look at you, little menace!” Sirius crowed, plucking Harry off the ground with exaggerated flair, tossing him lightly in the air. “Merlin, you’re almost as big as your old man.”

Harry squealed gleefully, grabbing at Sirius’s hair with tiny fists.

James’s eyes widened slightly. “Oi, gently, Padfoot!” he barked, though he was grinning far too widely to be genuinely concerned.

But before James could intervene, Remus strolled in through the front door, already exuding the aura of the only sane person in the room.

He shook his head fondly, running a hand through his sandy hair. “Honestly, I don’t know why I still expect you lot to act like responsible adults.”

Sirius snorted loudly, tossing Harry lightly onto the couch with a dramatic flourish.

“Responsible adults?” he sneered with mock outrage, planting a hand on his chest. “I’ll have you know, Moony, I once drank half a bottle of Fire whiskey, dueled a goblin, and convinced a centaur to let me ride him through the Forbidden Forest—all in the same night.”

Remus arched a brow, utterly unimpressed. “You also got a month’s detention and lost two teeth, if I recall correctly.”

Sirius’s eyes narrowed slightly. “That’s slander, Lupin. Absolute slander.”

You let out a soft, breathless laugh, watching them fondly. And for a moment— Just for a moment— You forgot that they had once been nothing but memories. Phantom faces in a future you could no longer reach. For now, they were here. They were real. And Merlin, you held on to them like they might slip through your fingers.

── .✦

The cottage was silent that evening—Harry long since tucked into bed, his tiny hands clutching the worn stag plush James had gifted him.

You stood by the window, staring out at the endless black, your breath fogging the glass.

And when you closed your eyes, you could see them.

Ron, throwing his head back in laughter, eyes glinting with boyish mischief. Hermione’s soft, steady voice as she carefully unwound the impossible knots of the world with quiet brilliance. And Harry—your Harry— Older. Burdened. Carrying too much weight for one boy.

You pressed your palm lightly to the windowpane, as if you could reach through the glass and touch the life you left behind.

But it was James who found you. Always.

You didn’t hear him enter the room. But you felt his arms slip around you from behind, warm and familiar. Without a word, he pressed his lips softly to your shoulder.

“Can’t sleep, darling?” he murmured softly, voice low and sleep-rough.

You swallowed thickly, leaning back into him, your fingers tangling loosely with his.

“Just thinking,” you whispered faintly.

James was quiet for a moment. And then— He squeezed you a little tighter.

“About them?” he asked softly, no accusation in his voice. Only understanding.

You nodded, your breath hitching slightly. And James— He pressed his lips against the curve of your jaw, his voice barely louder than a breath.

“You don’t have to forget them, my love,” he murmured, softly, reverently. “You just have to keep living.”

And you let him hold you. Because somehow, James knew how to make the grief feel a little softer. A little quieter. Like something you could carry, rather than be crushed beneath.

── .✦

The evening was soft and golden, the fire crackling faintly in the hearth. James was slouched in the armchair, legs dangling lazily over the side, a book balanced haphazardly on his chest. His hair was a complete mess, dark curls tumbling over his forehead.

You sat on the couch with your legs tucked beneath you, an old quilt draped over your lap, fingers absentmindedly running over the worn fabric.

The room was quiet, save for the occasional flutter of parchment as James absentmindedly flipped a page.

Then— Without warning, James’s voice broke the silence.

“Do you ever regret it?” he asked softly, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

You blinked, looking over at him, your breath catching slightly at the softness in his eyes.

“Regret what?” you asked faintly, though you already knew.

James’s eyes didn’t leave yours. “Staying,” he murmured, voice quiet and earnest. “Choosing me. Choosing this life.”

Your chest tightened slightly at the rawness in his voice—the quiet, vulnerable plea behind his words.

You were silent for a long moment. And then— You rose slowly from the couch, padding across the room and climbing into his lap.

James’s arms wound around you immediately, pulling you closer, holding you like he was still afraid you might slip away.

You pressed your lips softly to his temple, voice low and trembling with certainty.

“Never,” you whispered fiercely. “Not for a second.”

James let out a breathless sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

And he held you. And you held him back. And the life you left behind—the one you would always carry with you—felt a little lighter, a little softer.

Because here, in this time, In this life, You were home.

304 notes · View notes

remmyj-ohnloops · 1 day ago

Text

resolutions (remus lupin x reader)

summary: you really want Remus to be your new year's kiss, even if it feels like the world is trying to stop you.

a/n: wrote a summer fic and now we're back at winter.. i guess i don't know what i want

pairings: remus lupin x fem!reader

warnings: friends-to-lovers, first time writing remus so im sorry if its ooc ):, obv not following plot, kind of shy reader, and works at a bakery (unimportant honestly)

It's New Year's Eve, 11:00 p.m., and when you enter James and Sirius’ building, the only thing you can think about is finding Remus.

You're selfish, you know that, coming to this party just to see him. Just to be with him when the clock turns. The party started at nine, and you hadn't gotten off work until late because somehow everyone had an emergency before 8. You don't seem to care as you carefully walk up the flights of stairs, puddles of melted snow dripping down the steps.

When you enter the flat, you're late and out of breath. You're carrying cupcakes you plan to stash away for you and your friends after the party is over, leftover from the end of your shift. You've gotten the kind James likes as a thanks for the party, banana, heavy with cream cheese frosting. You just hope it makes up for your lateness and stops any jests, but you know better.

You slide past people in the living room. Trying to smile and apologize as you slip past them, anything to make it feel less awkward. Just as the vibrations are starting to make your chest feel funny, you promptly reach the doorframe. The music’s bass is loud and as you try to turn into the kitchen, you spot two of your friends.

They're both swaying softly to music as they keep pouring and sipping, pouring some more, taste-testing it some more. You settle for putting the cupcakes away quietly above the fridge, taking your gloves off, and shoving them in your pocket. They don't notice you until you're almost done, James’ shoulders jumping.

“Are you trying to get drunk or your stomach pumped- oh!” James turns to you, immediately putting down the bottle he's holding and goes to hug you, “Lovely, you made it!”

You straighten up, chest flushing, “Do you know where-”

As fast as he's hugging you, he's gone, grabbing the bottle out of Sirius’ hand. “You dolt, that’s half a bottle.”

“Y’sure your glasses are working?” Sirius shakes his head, turning to you. He looks you up and down once, a wicked smile going on his face.

“Aren't you a sweet thing tonight?” And you can't help but laugh, three shots in and he's begging for anyone’s attention.

“Thank you, Sirius.” He ignores your laugh, walking out of the kitchen, shaking his head. Sirius slaps a hand on the doorframe before he leaves, “Remus was asking for you.”

And he's gone, swimming through the crowd before you can even ask where you're being asked for. James wraps an arm around your shoulders and squeezes, “What’d you bring for me, my sweet?” And he's leading you back to the party with two cups in his hands.

“Take you to, Lily, yeah?” And even though it isn't exactly what you want, you nod.

When you reach Lily, she's sitting with a couple of your friends. People you know much better than the rest of the crowd at this party. The first to notice you is Mary, a smile blooming on her face as she grabs at you to come join them.

The rest of them turn once they notice her attention’s no longer with them, and Lily stands to greet you as James takes your jacket from your shoulders. You feel frazzled from the attention, but these are your friends, you remind yourself. You'd love to give them just as much attention.

“Mary, relax, you're embarrassing the girl.” Marlene laughs, and you can't help but fluster.

Mary rolls her eyes, a smile still on her face as she pats the spot between her and Dorcas. When you sit, both the girls move back in, wide and buzzed smiles on their faces.

Before James leaves, you gently tap his shoulder. When he turns to you, he hands you one of the cups he’s holding. It seems he completely misses the cue because he leaves a chaste kiss on your cheek and promptly moves on to the coat rack. You stare at the back of his head as if he’ll come back and answer your original question.

It doesn't matter if he does, because quickly, the girls are dragging you into their conversation.

You try your best to look like you're paying attention to the girls as you lean back and try to scan the room. There are too many people, too many men that aren't Remus, and too loud of music for you to get the courage to ask where he is.

As fast as you're headstrong, you give in to the idea that maybe, tonight isn't the night with Remus. Maybe another day. Maybe another party. Maybe it's a sign?

You're playing with the string bracelet on your wrist, braided with three different colors, fraying at its ties. A pat on your thigh shakes you from your thoughts, Lily raising her eyebrows at you expectantly. She smiles afterwards, and you suddenly feel much calmer.

Dorcas and Marlene are well into their story when someone yells, ‘Ten minutes!’ And you decide that's your sign.

When you look back at Lily, she's waiting for you to say something. You can't bring yourself to share your worries, especially during the excited conversation between your friends. As Mary is interrupting Marlene’s tale, you turn to look at the clock above the kitchen doorframe. 11:49 p.m.

And you know you have to find him now or you'll lose all your courage.

It seems Lily senses this shift in you, too, because she turns away from the rest of the girls, raising an eyebrow at you.

“What's wrong, sick of us already?” She smiles, and at times like this, you see why she and James go so well together.

“I just,” You start, but don't know how to make it not sound like you're ditching them. “I just need a break, I think.”

She nods, picking up her bottle and then hums. “I think I saw Remus and Sirius going out for a smoke a little ago.” And when she sees your small smile, you know she knows who you're looking for.

You quickly stand and say your goodbyes, smiling at them. As you turn to leave, you can hear Lily’s laughter, and the girls questioning her.

You make your way past the drunken crowd, sticky wood, and get to the front door just as Sirius is entering the apartment.

“Hi there, looking for Remus?” he’s smiling.

“Stop it.” You're smiling back, and thankfully, it's dark in this room because he’d be even worse than what he is now.

“Yeah, yeah.” He's pushing his hair back, shimmying off his jacket. “He's on the steps downstairs.”

You squeeze his arm as you walk past him, ignoring his questions about going out dressed the way you are.

The steps creak as you walk down, trying your best not to step into any muddy puddles. Once you make it to the first floor, you can see him sitting on the steps outside, brown jacket covering his back as he smokes.

You've been thinking about this all night, and now that you're finally here, you're unsure of yourself. Chasing a boy you're not sure wants to be bothered right now. You're standing in the hallway, deciding whether or not to turn around and go back upstairs, when Remus makes the decision for you.

You can see him peek through the window, putting a hand up above his eyes to check who it is. You can tell Remus realizes it’s you because he straightens up and smiles, waving for you to come forward. He opens the door slightly and you will your legs to move towards him.

“Hi, you.” he mutters between his cigarette.

He's patting the spot next to him, and you nod your head at him.

When you sit, he's trying his best to blow the smoke away from your direction completely. He's cold, that much you can tell. Fingers pink, followed by his nose; his brown jacket doing all the heavy lifting to keep him warm.

“You're gonna catch a cold wearing your scarf like that,” you say softly.

“You're in a jumper, giving me lessons on protection from the cold?” he teases, and you can't help but laugh.

You just want to wrap him up and pinch his cheek for his words. His scarf is thrown carelessly around his neck with one side dragging down longer than the other. He’s glancing at you through the smoke, and the street lights make his hair glow as noise from across the neighborhood drowns out the silence.

He's dressed in one of his nicer vests, one you know James had gotten him last Christmas, a muddled brownish-green. The leather of his shoes are worn, but he doesn't seem to care if they continue to wear with the way he's stepping on his own toes. It makes your stomach turn, especially when you spot the braided string bracelet you had given him earlier in the month.

You play with your sleeves, hoping it hides the fact that you were staring at him. Yet, he's staring so hard you think he can see your nerves jumping somehow.

Remus catches your eye, and you decide to speak again.

“I wouldn't be if you'd just find me at the party.” you say simply.

Remus pauses, taking another drag and ashing it. He blows the smoke the way the wind blows to avoid you, and then stops again.

“I told Sirius to tell you where I was?” He frowned

And you couldn’t help but feel like somehow Sirius did tell you exactly where he was, and you spent the entire night avoiding him at all costs, with the way he was looking at you.

His eyebrows were pinched, cigarette forgotten as he frowned at you, the lines under his eyes dragging with the rest of his sullen face. You frowned back, tucking your fingers into your palm.

“He was getting a drink,” you say, but Remus can only shake his head.

“He’s been getting a drink since the music started playing,” he sighs.

You laugh lightly, anything to make this feel lighter on the situation, but really, you know it’s for yourself. You glance at him, and he can only stare back at you, his frown gently falling. You know it’s not your fault, but the night is ending, and you somehow feel like everything has gone wrong.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve looked,” you say.

“No, dove, not your fault.” he says, and you can tell he doesn’t mean it.

It’s hard to read Remus’ mind; you’re not sure if he always knows what he’s thinking about. There’s always so much for him to worry about, for him to carry, and right now, you know it’s about you.

That makes it all the more worse when you ask him, hands now drawn into your jumper, knit cables digging into your fingers.

“Are you sure?” you say quietly.

He opens his mouth to speak and then closes it. He hits the cigarette one more time, dropping it onto a pile of iced-over snow by the steps, the sizzle drowning out anything response he would’ve had.

When Remus finally looks up at you, he looks as if you’ve just about kicked him.

“Why didn’t you come to find me?” he says finally.

“I..” you hesitate. “Why didn’t you come to find me?”

Remus says nothing, but chuckles. He grabs your balled up hands pulling them fom your jumper, and into the warmth of his jacket.

“You’re freezing, love.” And your throat goes dry as you nod at him, moving close until your thighs are touching.

You can hear the cheering getting louder from the party, knowing the time is now. He’s right. You can’t always wait for him to find you.

You can’t wait around forever.

“Why don’t you warm me up?” The countdown starts.

Remus laughs and looks up into the air, then looks back at you.

“You’re killing me.”

And he’s then putting his hand on your jaw, firm and chilled, fingertips tickling the back of your neck. He hesitates at first, but when he notices your eyes are closed, waiting, he can’t help but indulge you.

The kiss is slow and warm, and hides chattering teeth behind wind-chapped lips, but it’s good.

So good that when you stop, it’s the new year, and everyone is cheering. Yet, the only thing he does is hum and lean back in, and you eagerly follow suit.

—

When you both come back up, the party is winding down, and your friends are gathered near the couch, turning to the door.

Sirius speaks first, a cup still in his hand.

“And here I thought you two had abandoned us,” he sips his cup, smiling behind it.

You know that it doesn’t matter what you say, you’re wearing Remus’ jacket, cold fingers intertwined.

“What kind of friends don’t celebrate New Year’s with their loved ones?” James follows with a whine, turning to Lily. “Am I not loved?”

“Shut up,” Remus says, but he’s smiling, and you realize you are too.

He moves forward, guiding you to sit on the couch with your friends. When you sit, surrounded by them, you realize that everything hadn’t gone wrong.

And when you look at Remus, you realize that it had always been the right time.

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remmyj-ohnloops · 1 day ago

Note

Hello Mae!! I loooovveee your fics!!

I'm feeling rather sick right now, so I wondering if you could write EMT!Marauders x Sick!Reader (vomiting, passing out, high fever etc)

If not then that's ok, thanks!

Thanks for requesting!

cw: vomit mention (past tense), reader has a high fever but isn't like super super out of it (though it's mentioned some of her memories are a bit hazy)

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

The voices start out in your dreams. Low, indistinct murmurings, in voices that you know instinctively are safe. They’re warm enough to cuddle into like extra blankets. So, you don’t feel particularly inclined to rouse until something starts rubbing your cheek.

Your lashes peel apart like they’ve been stuck together with glue in your sleep. It’s a herculean effort. Worth it to find Remus on the other side, though.

“Hi,” he murmurs, thumb still stroking your cheek.

“Hi,” you whisper back.

Remus smiles—it’s one of your favorites from him, so tender it’s almost shy, like he doesn’t want anyone to see—and ducks down to kiss the corner of your mouth. Dutifully missing your lips, as your boyfriends have been sentenced to do for the past couple of days. You blink fuzzily. The hall light is on, illuminating dimly your otherwise dark bedroom and Sirius and James peeling off their uniforms. Sirius is typing something into his phone, while James watches you out of the corner of his eye, grinning when he catches you looking.

It’s possible you’ll never not flush when your boyfriend grins at you while stepping out of his trousers. This may be a life sentence.

“How are you feeling?” Remus asks.

You make a sort of humming sound. You’re sick of feeling sorry for yourself and besides that you’re running out of adjectives. First it had been not right, then not very well, then plainly bad. Now you feel distinctly in worse territory, but to voice that feels too much a plea for pitying treatment, and you won’t do it.

Remus murmurs, “Yeah?” and tsks like he hears it anyway. He lays a hand over your forehead, frowning.

“What time is it?” you ask.

“Early,” James says, like an apology. “We just got in.”

You nod like this is expected. It’s not unusual for your boyfriends to come home from a long shift in the early hours of the morning, but truthfully, you don’t remember exactly when they’d left. You were in a sort of feverish, half-asleep state for most of the evening.

“Open,” Remus prompts softly. You do, and he nudges a thermometer into your mouth, smoothing some hairs away from your face once he’s done. He looks worried. So many sweet, tender touches. It’d be enough to make you dizzy even if you were fully conscious.

“Is she warmer?” Sirius asks.

“I think so,” says Remus.

James makes a sad puppy noise and flops onto the bed, now in his underwear. “I’m sorry, lovie,” he whines, practically crawling on top of you to put his face in your stomach. “It’s shit to be poorly for so long. Have you been sick again since we left?”

You have to think about it, but shake your head. This seems to satisfy James somewhat.

“Did you drink your fluids?” Sirius asks. You nod this time. He walks over to the water bottle on the nightstand, giving it an experimental shake. “Still feels full.”

Remus’ lips twitch at whatever look crosses your face. The thermometer beeps, and he pulls it from your mouth.

“I drank some,” you defend yourself.

Sirius gives you a playful reprimanding look, but then his attention is Remus’ as Remus pulls the thermometer closer. “Thirty-nine point seven.” He sighs, bringing his hand to your head again. He pets your hair. “Sweetheart…”

“Nothing hurts, still?” James asks you.

“No,” you mumble, contrite. You feel like you’re disappointing them.

Sirius crouches by the bed, leaning forward to give you a pillowy soft kiss on your forehead. He’s thrown on an old t-shirt of Remus’, worn and with holes in the soft fabric. “It’s okay, baby. It’s not your fault; you’ve always been hot, it’s only getting worse.”

You give him a dry look. That joke got old within the first day of your fever, but the way he delivers it so solemnly now does make a smile tug at your lips. Sirius bumps his nose into your temple teasingly.

“Might’ve helped if you drank your fluids, though.”

“Fuck off,” you murmur. Really, you love having him so close, and Sirius seems to know this. His expression is smug as he gives you another conciliating kiss.

Remus is looking down at the both of you like you’re his favorite annoyances. “I think it’s time to go to hospital,” he determines.

You frown. “But you just came from there.”

“Ugh, I know,” Sirius groans. “The things we do for you, hm?”

“You don’t seem to be improving,” Remus says. “We need to get a better idea of what this is.”

“Can’t it just be a stomach bug?” you sulk.

He hums, sweeping his thumb over your forehead. It’s warm and calloused. “It’d be nice if it was,” he says, “but we ought to know for sure. And this doesn’t quite fit the parameters of a regular stomach bug, dovey.”

“It’d be helpful to have some bloodwork done,” James agrees, sitting up a bit to prop his chin on your stomach.

“Bloodwork?” you repeat.

“I sure fucking hope it does,” quips Sirius. When you still look trepidatious, he laughs and smooches your cheek. “You’ll be fine, my love. We’ll take good care of you.”

“The best care,” James seconds, sitting up on his haunches to un-pin your stomach from the bed. “C’mon, let’s get up.”

You eye all three of your boyfriends, but begin sitting up slowly. “You just got home. You really want to go back to work at” —you glance at the clock on your nightstand— “six thirty in the morning?”

“That’s exactly what we want to do. You’re so smart, baby.” Sirius gives your cheek a pat. You pout at him in response; your head hurts now that you’re upright. “Anyway, I texted Mary at St. Bart’s, and she said we can get in if we go now.”

Remus kisses Sirius’ head in silent thanks as James gets up to dig through a drawer of Remus’ jumpers for you both to put on.

“We just love work so much,” he jokes, tossing you one. Sirius catches it before it can hit you. “We can hardly stay away, you know? Plus, bring your girlfriend to work day is a great time, I hear.”

“So fun,” you sigh, resigned.

Sirius smiles softly at you as he pulls Remus’ jumper over your head. “That’s the spirit.”

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remmyj-ohnloops · 1 day ago

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snobby slytherin princess - sirius black

summary: there's something about a snobby slytherin princess that sirius black cannot resist. so when you get into an argument with rabastan lestrange and let it slip that sirius black would have a better chance at marrying you, the boy springs into action. wc: 0.8k cw: public argument, pureblood stuff

Behind the perfect poise and manners all of the sacred 28 had been taught lay a beast of impatience and sass, every pureblood child being pushed to their limits. The marauders hadn’t been expecting to watch a showdown between two pureblooded slytherins on their way to the great hall for lunch, the silence between them a tell-tale of how double potions had gone. But their boredom had been noticed by some higher power, and by some miracle, they ended up two mere meters from you as you strode away from the great hall, a very obviously panicked Lestrange following behind you.

He was calling after you, breaking into a run to catch up with your pace as he pleaded “Don't be so stubborn! Can we please just talk!?” All air was sucked out of the hallway as you came to an abrupt halt, right next to the three boys and Lily, spinning around to face Rabastan.

“You want to talk? Okay, talk!”

Rabastan spluttered, at a loss for words. You scoffed, “Or do you just want me to talk so you can figure out what you did wrong and apologise for it?” Sirius made an impressed sound, but Rabastan was so busy trying to climb out of the grave he dug himself that he didn’t even notice. But it was hopeless; he had crossed the line and had veered into the dangerous terrain of your honest opinions.

“Rabastan, I am not marrying you. Go cry to daddy about it. He’ll have another wife lined up for you by tomorrow night.”

If the marauders weren’t already frozen with shock, they would be now. They had matching expressions on their faces, jaws slack, eyes wide. Sirius, as much as he loved listening to pureblood drama, had no idea about your engagement. Or, your arrangement, should he say.

“But I don’t want another wife, I want you.” It was a desperate attempt, but Rabastan trusted his acting skills. Rabastan’s father would kill him if he knew his son’s behaviour drove the perfect suitor away. Luckily for you, you saw right through him.

You doubled over, a loud laugh escape you, eyes still filled with rage. “No, you don’t! Oh my god! I’d have chosen your brother if I knew how disgusting you were!” Rabastan stumbled back from the force of your words, as though you had struck him. His brother? He didn’t know you or your parents had been given options. He thought his parents had decided to guide you towards the better Lestrange brother — him. He didn’t know that his parents wanted you to marry either one of them.

Shit, he really messed up.

Rabastan stepped closer to you, eyes pleading. He didn’t care how much more he humiliated himself in front of his rivals, he just had to avoid humiliating himself in front of his father. “Just give me one chance, just one.” Your eyes followed the movement of his hand, reaching out to hold yours. Laughing uncomfortably, you reached down with your free hand to remove Rabastan’s hold from you.

“You already had one chance. What, did you think this engagement was actually secured?”

Tilting your head to the side, you held Rabastan’s eye contact, as though challenging him to say another word to you. When he said nothing, you nodded, adding as the final straw “Even Black stands a better chance at this point.”

Rabastan laughed coldly, his innocent front now forgotten as he said “Yeah, Regulus two years younger stands a better chance. Sure.” You smiled sweetly at Rabastan, shaking your head. “No, Rab. Not Regulus.”

You heard Rabastan’s breath hitch in an embarrassing gasp as you spun around on your heels and continued down the hall — but not without catching Sirius Black’s eye first. He was fixing his posture, rolling his shoulders back and clearing his throat. He felt his cheeks go hot at your comment, head turning to follow your disappearing figure.

“Shit, there’s just something I love about a snobby slytherin princess.” His friends’ heads shot towards him, Lily’s face shocked whereas Remus and James both held amused smirks. But just as he stepped aside to follow you down the hallway, two more women made their presences known.

Rabastan turned to face Narcissa and Pandora, throwing his head back as he said “I messed up so bad.” The two women didn’t spare him another glance as they strutted past him. “Yes, you did Lestrange.” Narcissa called out, quickly followed by Pandora’s comment of “And daddy won’t get you a new wife with that attitude!”

“Cissy, you think I can bag her?” Yelled Sirius to his cousin, who very briefly turned her attention to him, shrugging her shoulders. “You know she does quite like a rebel.”

And then, “Not a disrespectful scumbag, Rabastan.”

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remmyj-ohnloops · 1 day ago

Text

She’s Feeling Better

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

CW: Explicit sexual content, light spanking, d/s dynamics, needy Y/N.

Synopsis: At dinner with Harry’s friends, needy and whiny Y/N can’t stop nuzzling him. Seeing she’s not feeling well, Harry takes her to the bathroom for a quick, quiet moment together.

You were already a little floaty before dinner even started.

Something about the way Harry looked tonight, black trousers sitting low on his hips, button-down shirt slightly undone, Saint Laurent cologne so warm and heady it made your knees wobble, just did something to you. He was being sweet too, extra sweet. Helping you into your chair, rubbing your back gently with his warm palm, giving you those soft eyes like you were fragile.

And the room was loud. Too loud. You didn’t really know everyone, just a few of his close friends, but even that felt overwhelming. So instead, you stayed close to him. Pressing your thigh against his under the table. Resting your cheek on his shoulder when no one was looking. At some point, you just started nuzzling him. Quietly, desperately.

He turned toward you with a knowing little smile.

“What’s wrong, bunny?” he whispered, close enough that only you could hear it.

You couldn’t answer. You just looked at him, blinking slowly, eyes blown wide and glossy. You didn’t feel sick exactly, but something was off. Warm, fuzzy, a little dizzy with need. All you wanted was him.

You leaned closer and inhaled, nose brushing against his neck. His scent, his warmth, everything about him was pulling you in like a magnet. You whispered, “You smell so good, H.”

His fingers brushed your thigh under the table, subtly. “Mmm, lovie… you’re not feeling well, huh?”

You shook your head. Bottom lip stuck out in the tiniest pout, and he noticed. Of course he noticed.

Harry cupped the back of your neck and pressed a kiss to your temple. “Gonna take you to the bathroom for a sec, alright? Jus’ wanna check on you.”

You nodded fast, nuzzling once more under his jaw, breath shaky. Your whole body ached for him.

He stood smoothly and took your hand. “Excuse us,” he murmured to the group, smiling charmingly as he pulled you gently from your seat.

“Everything okay?” one of his friends asked, slightly concerned.

Harry gave them a soft chuckle. “Yeah. Think she’s not feeling well, just gonna make sure she’s alright.”

The moment you were inside the bathroom, the switch flipped.

Harry locked the door with a soft click, then turned to you. His eyes immediately scanned over you, your flushed cheeks, damp lashes, lips parted, pupils blown wide.

“You’re so needy, huh, baby?” he said lowly, stepping into your space. “Couldn’t sit still, couldn’t stop rubbing on me like a little bunny.”

You whimpered, arms wrapping around his neck as you pressed close, grinding a little against his thigh, just to get some friction.

“Fuckin’ knew it,” he muttered, dragging you backward until your bum hit the marble counter. “Didn’t even touch your food. Just sat there looking at me like you were gonna cry.”

“I needed you,” you breathed.

“I know, lovie. Poor thing,” he cooed, brushing your hair off your face, so tender.

Your eyes welled up instantly. It was so embarrassing, but you couldn’t help it. You were trembling with want.

Harry tilted your chin up with two fingers. “Gonna take care of you. But you have to be quiet, okay? You make one sound, I’m stopping.”

You nodded fast.

“I mean it, bunny. If I hear even a whimper, I’ll stop and take you back out there. Understood?”

“Y-Yeah.”

He kissed you, slow and soft, tongue curling gently around yours before his hands pushed up your skirt. He helped you up onto the counter, pulling your underwear down your thighs and stuffing them in his pocket like he always did. The way he looked at you was so sweet, even now, like you were the most precious thing in the world.

He stroked a finger through your folds and groaned softly. “Already soaked for me, huh? No wonder you were actin’ up.”

You let out a tiny gasp and immediately regretted it.

Smack.

The spank landed sharp on your thigh. Your whole body jolted.

Harry's eyes darkened. “What did I say?”

You teared up, lower lip trembling. “I’m sorry…”

His voice softened, but the edge stayed. “If you make another sound, I’m stopping. You know I will, bunny.”

You nodded, pouty and wet-eyed.

He slid inside you with one long, slow thrust, one hand over your mouth and the other gripping your hip. The stretch made you whine into his palm, but you kept it quiet. Just like he asked.

“You’re so good for me,” he whispered, breathing hard. “So fuckin’ tight… fuck. Can feel how needy you are.”

Your eyes fluttered, and he rocked into you gently, over and over. The sound of his hips against your thighs was obscene, but you didn’t dare make a sound. Your nails dug into his shoulders, desperate.

Harry kissed your temple, murmuring, “Shh, baby. Just take it. I know it’s a lot, I know. You needed it so bad, didn’t you?”

You nodded helplessly, tears slipping down your cheeks, overwhelmed with the pleasure.

His hand stayed at your mouth, pressing soft little kisses to your cheek as he fucked you through it. Slow and mean, then a little faster, but always careful. You clenched down around him as you came, body wracked with shivers and your mouth muffled by his warm palm. You whimpered softly into it, and he praised you for staying quiet.

“Good girl… such a good baby for me.”

When he came, he groaned low into your neck, holding you close and stilling deep inside you. You trembled in his arms, your whole body limp and satisfied.

He cleaned you up gently with a few paper towels, then helped you off the counter and fixed your hair with such care. His hands cradled your face, thumbs brushing your flushed cheeks.

“You alright, lovie?” he whispered. “Was I too rough?”

You shook your head with a dazed smile, wrapping your arms around his waist. “I’m okay.”

He kissed your forehead and handed you a glass of water from the little sink. “Good girl. You were so quiet for me.”

When you walked back into the dining room together, one of his friends raised an eyebrow.

Harry smirked, arm wrapping snug around your waist as he helped you into your seat.

“She’s feeling better,” he said smoothly, reaching for his drink like nothing had happened.

Your cheeks burned. You kept your head down, smiling into your lap.

Harry leaned over and kissed the top of your head again, hand resting on your thigh.

You squeezed his hand under the table. And yeah… you were feeling better.

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remmyj-ohnloops · 1 day ago

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Theo making his strokes deliberately so the headboard bangs against Ron's wall to make sure he knows what’s going on 👀

tw voyeurism.

thud. thud. thud. theo’s bed slams into the wall with each harsh thrust, your knees pinned to your chest under the weight of his body. he supports himself on one forearm right beside you, while other hand cradles the top of your head, protecting it from banging against the headboard.

“teddy—” you gasp when the tip brushes against your sensitive g-spot, not even registering the loud thumps against the wall over your own moans. but theo does— in fact, he knows exactly who’s listening on the other side on the wall. and not just listening.

ron has a clammy hand wrapped around his leaking cock, the other fisting the sheets in desperation, as he softly whines your name. his brain turns to mush as all kinds of vivid, filthy scenarios rush through his mind— you riding him, sucking him off, stroking his cock with those pretty hands… he doesn’t even know what to focus on. the steady rhythm of the headboard combined with your lewd moans make his head spin and his mouth run dry.

theo, on the other hand, is focused on only one thing— making as much noise as possible. because what he’s doing to you here in his bed? ron can only dream of it. it makes him feel proud, cocky, self satisfied. it strokes his ego in ways he wouldn’t want to admit. and he doesn’t need to, because his fucked out girlfriend hasn’t got a clue.

he leans in, soft lips brushing against your ear as he pushes your legs even higher, practically folding you in half, before whispering just a single word, “louder.” his thrusts grow frantic yet calculated, hitting all the right spots at a brutal pace. not even a second later, loud, pornographic cries spill from your lips, and he smirks in pride and satisfaction.

god, you’re always such a good girl for him. that’s right— just for him. and ron? poor guy only has his right hand, because he’ll never get to experience you the way theodore can.

ੈ♡˳

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remmyj-ohnloops · 1 day ago

Text

Just A Scratch

poly!marauders x fem!reader

synopsis: during a full moon night, an unexpected accident leaves flicker (you) injured, shaking the bond between you, remus, sirius, and james. as they bend the truth to shield one another from pain and guilt, you learn that sometimes, lies are the kindest form of love.

warnings: injury, blood, animal attack, transformation, emotional distress, graphic descriptions of animal injury, mild panic attacks, graphic descriptions of lycanthropy transformations, hurt/comfort, happy ending.

w/c: 5.3k

part of my mini blurb series flicker's adventures

masterlist

The night wrapped around the woods like a heavy cloak, thick with the scent of damp earth.

You walked alongside the three, feeling the weight of the evening pressing on your chest in tandem with the exhaustion that seemed to seep from every slumped shoulder and dragging foot.

Remus had been growing quieter these past few days, a shadow of weariness clouding his usual calm, and tonight, that fatigue clung to him like a second skin, heavier and more stubborn than ever before.

You reached out instinctively, your hand brushing against his arm, trying to share a fraction of strength, though your own heart ached in quiet sympathy.

Sirius’s voice, low but steady, broke through the silence “He’s gonna be okay,” he said, eyes burning with quiet conviction as he looked your way, as if he could read the worry you were trying so hard to bury.

The words, simple as they were, settled over you like a fragile promise, but still, you felt the tremble beneath them, the ache behind the certainty.

James and Sirius each took a side, their hands firm and sure as they cradled Remus between them. He leaned heavily into their support. You followed closely, your fingers brushing gently along his back.

The only sounds were the soft shuffle of feet on mossy ground and the slow, measured breaths laboring from Remus’s chest.

The shack came into view, worn and weathered but steadfast, nestled in a clearing where the moonlight fell in silver pools. Here, the boundaries between man and beast blurred. Tonight, more than ever, it felt like a sanctuary not just of wood and stone, but of understanding and fragile hope.

"Almost there," James murmured.

You reached out, touching Remus’s arm again, offering warmth and silent reassurance as they guided him through the door.

The air inside was cool and still, smelling faintly of old pine and earth—a small world carved from quiet necessities.

You swallowed the lump of dread that threatened to rise as the first tremors rippled through Remus’s body. It was the inevitable sign that the transformation had begun, that the full moon was claiming him once more.

James carefully eased Remus down onto the worn wooden floor of the shack, steadying him as he sagged heavily between James and Sirius’s arms. His breaths were shallow, uneven, eyes clouded with exhaustion and pain, and an unmistakable worry settled over all of you.

Sirius crouched close, voice soft but steady, “You’re going to be okay, Moony. We’re not going anywhere.”

Remus looked up at them, doubt flickering in his tired gaze. “You really will be here?”

“We will,” James said quietly, voice firm but gentle. “Whatever happens, we’re right here. We’ve got you.”

You stepped closer, brushing your hand along Remus’s arm, offering what little warmth you could. “All of us,” you said softly. “No matter what.”

Relief washed over Remus’s face, though the tension hadn’t left. His voice was barely above a whisper, “I’m glad you’re here.”

“We won’t leave you,” Sirius promised, squeezing Remus’s hand. “Not now, not ever.”

You pressed a kiss to Remus’s forehead, fingers lingering for a moment.. “You’re so strong,” you whispered, voice barely audible, hoping your words could be a balm for the storm brewing beneath his skin.

“I love you, Remmy”

His gaze found yours, exhaustion melting into something softer, and in a voice frayed by emotion he whispered, “I love you too.”

The three of you formed a tight circle around Remus, your presence a fragile shield against the inevitable. For a moment, silence settled over the room, thick and reverent, as the first shivers rippled through his limbs. His breath hitched, and his eyes met each of yours—wide with fear, shining with pain, pleading for strength he could no longer summon.

You reached for his hand one last time, your fingers squeezing his with all the love and steadiness you could give. James brushed his shoulder in passing, a whisper of comfort beneath the growing tension. Sirius hesitated, just for a heartbeat, then leaned in to press a quiet kiss to Remus’s hair before pulling away.

Without a word, the three of you stepped back, hearts heavy and reluctant, retreating toward the far room at the back of the shack.

The door creaked softly as it closed behind you, sealing Remus in solitude, as was always the rule. The transformation had to happen alone. It was a sacred, brutal thing—not meant to be witnessed or shared. Only endured.

You sat down with your back against the wall, every nerve in your body stretched taut with anticipation, ears straining for what you knew would come next.

And then, the screams began.

A guttural cry, raw and ragged, tore from deep within him. It was jagged and primal, scraping against the wooden walls, echoing into the night like a symphony of agony and surrender.

Your breath hitched, your chest tightening as the shudder rippled through his body. Bones groaned and shifted with dreadful sounds that seemed to wrench at your very soul. A sob escaped his lips, fragile and heartbreaking. You wished you could catch it and hold it close, to shield him from every shard of pain.

Then came the howl.

Not just any howl, but a lonely, aching lament stretching into the night. It was raw and mournful, carrying the weight of every lonely full moon Remus had endured. The sound clawed at your heart—hollow, vast, aching for something just out of reach.

Your eyes closed, overwhelmed by the torrent of emotion and sound. Before you could unravel beneath it all, strong hands cupped your ears with gentle insistence.

Sirius reached for you, his touch instinctive and gentle. His palms, warm and calloused, came up to cover your ears with delicate pressure, shielding you from the worst of it. You felt his thumbs brushing softly against your temples, grounding you, protecting you.

He leaned in close, his chest pressed to your back, his breath warm where it spilled into your hair. A kiss found the crown of your head—slow and lingering, a silent promise.

“It’s alright, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with quiet determination. “You don’t have to listen to this. You don’t have to carry it all.”

He stayed close, his warmth a shield around your trembling form as the wolf’s anguished cries filled the small room.

Minutes stretched like hours. The sounds softened as the wrenching transformation slowed. The guttural growls gave way to quiet panting, gentle and rhythmic like a steady heartbeat. The rawness faded into the steady thump of paws against earth and the soft rustle of fur brushing the floor.

When it was clear—the storm had passed, and Remus was no longer the man in the center of the room but the wolf—his eyes sharp and luminous even in the dim light—the three of you shared a silent understanding.

James shifted first, muscles rippling beneath familiar fur as he transformed into his stag. His antlers reached toward the rafters, noble and steady.

Sirius followed, sleek and dark, a large dog padding softly beside you.

You felt your own form begin to shift. Bones and muscles realigned, fur brushed over skin, until you stood small and vibrant—a flicker of fiery red among the shadows.

Out beneath the cold glow of the moon, your little pack slipped into its familiar rhythm. The shift from human to animal had washed through you in one long, seamless wave.

Moony had accepted this ritual. It had taken long months, but now the wolf’s golden gaze no longer flared with confusion when met with antlers gleaming between the trunks or with the dark blur of Padfoot racing by.

And you — small, lithe, winding through the underbrush or high among the branches — had long since become part of this strange world he understood.

The door to the shack had been nudged open, and the four of you had slipped free into the night. Moony sniffed the wind, body low and tense, muscles rippling beneath thick fur. Then, with a low huff, he set off toward the trees, his steps steady, as if he, too, knew what came next.

Padfoot bounded after him, darting in wide circles as he ran. The wolf growled, low and deep, and the chase began.

You leapt easily into the trees, claws curling into bark as you climbed, higher, higher, until you could follow from above. The branches swayed beneath you, and your keen eyes tracked their wild path below. Each thud of paw against earth echoed through the hollow places inside you, a rhythm older than words.

Behind them, Prongs moved with regal calm, tall and gleaming beneath the moon, antlers cutting dark lines against the sky. He followed at a slower pace, steady and sure, his gaze sweeping the shadows around them, watchful for danger.

For no matter how many times you did this, there was always the risk — the forest was wide, the night full of sharp things unseen.

From your perch, you watched them run.

It was beautiful in a way it should not have been. The four of you out here beneath the sky, untethered by names or titles, by human skin or human fears.

And yet no matter how wild it seemed, how far the wolf ran, how high you climbed, none of you strayed far from each other.

You watched from your perch, high among the skeletal branches of an old oak. Below, the moon spilled its pale light in a trembling pool across the clearing where Moony stalked, nose low to the ground, every muscle taut with restless energy.

He had grown quieter as the hours passed, the early wildness in his steps slowing to a more deliberate, measured prowl.

Moony turned suddenly, nose twitching, body low to the ground. You stilled, claws sinking into bark, breath caught tight in your chest. Something had shifted in the air.

You felt it, sharp and sudden, like a string pulled taut. The wolf’s ears pricked, his eyes narrowing, gaze fixed on something deeper in the trees.

That was when you saw it.

A flash of russet fur, low to the ground, slipping silently between the trunks. A fox — large, lean, and bold, its sharp muzzle lifted to the wind, unaware of the danger only feet away. It moved with confidence, weaving through the underbrush, its eyes glinting in the moonlight.

And Moony saw it too.

A low, guttural growl rumbled from deep within the wolf’s throat, darker than before. His hackles rose, claws digging into the earth as his body tensed, trembling on the brink of violence.

You felt it in your bones — this was no longer the Moony you knew, the one whose instincts had learned, slowly, to accept your presence. This was the wolf, wild and hunting, ruled only by the raw, ancient hunger that surged beneath his skin.

Before you could move, Padfoot was already there — a blur of dark fur, teeth bared, barking sharp and loud, trying to draw Moony’s attention away.

He leapt between the wolf and the fox, barking again, circling wide, ears flattened, doing everything to pull him back.

Prongs charged in next, antlers held high, stamping the ground hard, a warning. He swung his head, shifting his weight, ready to block if he had to.

But it was not enough. Moony’s gaze had locked on the fox, and the wolf within him would not be denied. With a sudden, savage snarl, he lunged forward, muscles coiling for the kill.

You moved before you could think.

Leaping from the tree, body light as flame, you raced down the trunk, claws skimming the bark. The ground rushed up beneath you and you bolted across the clearing, small and fast, paws flying over the forest floor.

You could hear the thundering of Moony’s breath behind you, hear Padfoot barking wildly, trying to stop him, but you had no choice — the fox would never outrun the wolf, but you could reach it first. You could save it.

You skidded to a stop between them, your small form a flash of red against the dark, and lunged at the fox, driving it away with sharp yips and snapping teeth. The startled animal fled into the undergrowth, vanishing in a streak of russet fur.

But too late.

A snarl split the night, closer than you had thought. You turned just in time to see Moony’s powerful form descending on you, teeth bared, eyes burning with wild hunger.

You tried to leap clear — but claws raked across your side, sharp and brutal, tearing through fur and flesh alike.

A searing pain burst through you, bright and hot, as your body tumbled to the ground. A raw, helpless scream escaped your throat — high and sharp in the voice of the red panda, a sound you could hardly believe was your own.

The world tilted, spun. You barely registered Padfoot’s furious barking as he rushed to your side, circling you protectively.

Prongs moved swiftly, antlers low, stepping between the wolf and where you lay crumpled. With careful, deliberate movements, he began to drive Moony back, forcing him away from you.

A sharp stamp of hooves, a commanding toss of his head — the stag herded the snarling wolf, inch by inch, back toward the shack.

You lay there, trembling, pain lancing through your side, the scent of blood sharp in the cold air.

Padfoot pressed close, his body warm and solid against yours, muzzle nuzzling your fur with desperate care, a low, frantic whimper rumbling in his throat.

He nudged at your trembling form with his nose, whining softly as he took in the torn patch of fur along your side. You whimpered faintly, curling slightly from the sharp flare of pain, your small body shivering in the cold. But your gaze, dazed and wide, remained locked on the wolf.

Moony was still tense, teeth bared, hackles high, though Prongs had stepped between you now. The great stag gave a forceful stamp of his hooves, then turned his antlered head and let out a deep, gruff snort — a pointed sound meant for Padfoot alone. An unmistakable command.

The shack. Now.

Padfoot hesitated only for a second, torn between instinct and reason, but the message was clear.

He stepped closer, nudging at you again, then dipped his head low and with immense care, grasped the scruff of your neck in his jaws — firm but gentle. Jjust enough to hold you, to lift you as a mother might carry her young.

You whimpered again as the movement pulled at your injury, but you allowed it. Trusting him.

The forest blurred past in streaks of dark and silver as Padfoot bounded toward the shack, his massive paws barely touching the earth, your small body swaying with each stride.

The door was already ajar from earlier, and he shouldered it open with a grunt, bolting through the familiar rooms until he reached the one where they had all waited before.

He set you down with the gentlest touch, then with a shimmer of movement, transformed. Sirius fell to his knees beside you, bare-chested, hair tousled, eyes wild with panic.

"Fuck, fuck, sweetheart, look at me, Flick, please," he gasped, already tearing off his shirt. The fabric ripped beneath his hands, his fingers shaking as he pressed it to your side. You whimpered beneath the touch, the burning throb of your wound sharp beneath your fur.

"You’re okay, you’re gonna be okay, love, please just… just stay with me. Don’t transform, not yet." His voice cracked.

His hands moved frantically, trying to gauge the depth of the injury. He peeled the torn fur back carefully, wincing at the sight of blood, but even through the haze of panic, he could tell it was not life-threatening.

Painful, yes, but not deep enough to tear muscle. His chest heaved in relief, though his hands never stilled.

"I’m so sorry, I should have— I should’ve been faster, fuck, you’re so bloody brave, Flicker, but gods—" he pressed another kiss to your head, voice breaking.

But beneath the sound of his words, you could hear it. Faint at first, through the thin wall separating this room from the main chamber of the shack.

A low growl, then a sharp, wet crack.

Your ears twitched toward it instinctively, heart pounding beneath your ribs.

Sirius froze too, gaze flickering toward the sound. "Shit… he’s changing back."

The noise swelled. Bones grinding, breaking, shifting. The wolf’s deep snarls unraveling into ragged groans of something less, something fragile. The air seemed to thicken with it, each tortured snap and sob a knife to your chest.

You whimpered again, curling instinctively, ears flattening against your head as the awful sounds of Remus’s transformation clawed at you.

Even now — after so many full moons — it never got easier to hear. And this time, with the sharp pulse of your own pain thrumming through your body, it seemed even more unbearable.

Sirius noticed. His breath hitched. In a heartbeat, he gathered you gently in his arms, cradling your small form against his bare chest, one hand still holding the torn fabric to your wound.

"Shhh, baby, don’t listen," he whispered, voice trembling with emotion. He cupped one large hand over your ears, shielding you as best he could. Pressed a shaky kiss to your head. His heart thudded beneath you, fast and frantic. "It’s almost over, I promise."

And then, at last, the noises shifted — the snapping and tearing gave way to gasping breaths, then softer, broken sobs. No longer the wolf but human againn.

Sirius let out a long, shaking breath, shoulders slumping in exhausted relief, though his arms remained wrapped tight around you.

"He’s back," he whispered, voice thick with feeling. "Our Moony’s back."

"You can shift back now, darling," Sirius murmured softly, voice close to your ear, fingers brushing with tender insistence over your furred form. "Come on, love. It’s alright. You’re safe."

It took effort, more than you cared to admit. Your body felt heavy, dragged down by the sharp throb of pain lancing through your side. But you breathed, slow and shallow, and let the magic coil and unspool through you. Fur gave way to skin, small trembling limbs reshaping until you lay against the floor in your human form once more, chest rising and falling in quick, uneven breaths.

Your arms curled instinctively over your side. The torn fabric of your shirt clung damply to the wound, a jagged slash running across your ribs. It burned, deep and hot, though not mortal.

Before you could gather the words to speak, a low sound curled through the thin walls — a broken, fragile whimper.

Remus.

Your heart hammered painfully in your chest, a desperate pull beneath your ribs. “I need to be with him,” you whispered, voice breaking. “He’s hurting, and I have to—”

Sirius grabbed your face gently but firmly, his eyes wide with panic and urgency. “Listen to me, Y/N,” he urged, voice shaking. “Remus can’t see you hurt right now. I need you to stay here, stay safe. Please

“But Remmy he is—”

"Stay," he said quietly, voice rough with restrained emotion. "Please, sweetheart. You cannot… he cannot see you like this."

The meaning struck deep. Remus, raw and wrecked after the shift, haunted always by the weight of what he became under the moon. The guilt was carved into him already. If he saw you wounded, wounded because of him, it would undo him completely.

You exhaled a trembling breath and nodded, though every part of you longed to be with him.

Sirius gave you one last lingering glance, then rose swiftly and disappeared through the door.

Down below, the main chamber of the shack lay steeped in cool shadows. James knelt at Remus’s side, one arm steadying him as he lay curled upon the worn floorboards, trembling in the aftermath. His skin was pale, clammy with sweat, hair clinging in damp strands, his body racked with exhaustion.

"Jamie," Remus rasped, voice barely more than a ghost of sound. "Where… where is Sirius? Where is Dovey?"

James hesitated, throat tight. He could not bring himself to answer, to lie, nor could he bear to speak the truth — but before he could form a single word, the door opened with a rush of footsteps.

"Hey, hey, hey," Sirius said quickly, dropping to his knees, both hands cupping Remus’s face. "Easy, love. You’re alright. It’s over. You made it through."

At the touch, Remus sagged, a broken sound catching in his throat as he leaned toward the familiar comfort. But it was fleeting — the peace shattered by sudden panic blooming sharp and fast.

"Where is she?" he gasped, voice cracking. "Where—where is she?"

He pushed upward, limbs trembling violently beneath him. He barely managed to lift himself before collapsing back into Sirius’s arms, wild eyes darting between them. The terror in his gaze was palpable, raw and jagged.

"Moony, listen—" Sirius tried, voice low, soothing.

But it was too late. Remus caught it. The faintest shift in James’s face — the look of worry, the grief he could not quite mask.

"No," Remus choked, breath hitching sharply. "No. What did I do? Please—tell me—where is she—"

He fought to rise again, muscles screaming, breath breaking in harsh, uneven gasps. His body betrayed him, but still he struggled, frantic.

"Remus," James said urgently, catching him, holding him fast. "You cannot stand. You are barely—"

"She’s hurt," Remus gasped. The words tore from him like broken glass. "She’s hurt—I—I—please—"

The sound of it wrenched at Sirius’s heart. He could scarcely bear the sight of Remus like this, raw with fear, every inch of him consumed by guilt.

"She is safe," Sirius said at last, voice low, steady. "She is alright. I swear it."

But the words did little to quiet the storm in Remus’s eyes, wide and shining with helpless terror. He shook his head, breaths coming faster, shallow and ragged. "I need to see her," he whispered hoarsely. "Please—I need her—"

The door creaked open softly.

You barely paused in the threshold before you were moving, crossing the space in quick, determined steps, heart straining in your chest.

Remus and James looked up in unison — and both froze.

Their eyes fell instantly to your side, where your torn shirt clung crimson to your skin. James’s face paled visibly, mouth parting in alarm, while Remus’s entire body seemed to seize, panic flaring bright and wild across his features.

But before either could speak, you lifted a hand, voice quick and light, trying your best to sound calm. "It’s alright," you said softly, even managing a small smile, "truly — it looks worse than it is. Just a scratch, I promise."

"That is not a scratch," James said at once, voice strained.

Remus, however, looked utterly stricken. His breath hitched, eyes wide, horrified. "I —" he choked, trying to sit upright. "I did that — oh God — what have I done?"

You were at his side before he could fall apart, sinking down gently in front of him, cupping his face in your hands. His skin was clammy beneath your palms, trembling faintly, his eyes bright with tears.

"You didn’t," you whispered, voice soft but firm. You leaned in closer, brushing your thumb along his cheek.

"It was not you. I—I fell," you said, weaving the lie with care. "A branch caught me on the way down, that is all."

You fixed him with a steady, insistent look before shifting your gaze to James. For a moment, he paused, jaw clenched, but then the unspoken message in your eyes reached him, and he gave a small, knowing nod.

"Remus, love," you whispered softly, leaning in. "It was not you."

Tears glittered in his eyes. He shook his head faintly, breath hitching. "I—I saw—"

"You saw nothing," you said gently, voice warm, steady. You pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I fell and a branch caught me. That is all."

You glanced meaningfully at James, who caught on immediately, clearing his throat.

"She is telling the truth," James said with conviction, moving to kneel beside you both. "We saw it. Clumsy thing tried to fly out of a tree."

That earned a soft breath of laughter from you, and even Remus’s lips twitched, though his gaze was still worried.

"I—are you alright?" he whispered. His fingers hovered near your side, hesitant, trembling.

You smiled, catching his hand in yours, threading your fingers together. "I am alright," you promised, voice light and sure.

A little glimmer of mischief sparked through you then, and you leaned back slightly. "See for yourself."

Before either of them could protest, you let the shift wash over you — fur rippling into place, form shrinking down until Flicker, small and bright, sat before them.

James groaned dramatically. "Dove—"

But you were already on the move, padding in a slow circle around them, tail flicking playfully, showing them with every bounce of your step that the injury barely hindered you at all.

James laughed softly, rubbing a hand over his face. "You are such a menace."

Remus let out a shaky, relieved laugh of his own, shoulders slumping as the tension bled from his frame. He opened his arms invitingly.

With an eager chirp, you leapt into his lap, curling against his chest, pressing your little face beneath his chin.

His laughter broke free then — warm and breathless. "Merlin, I love you," he whispered, arms folding protectively around you.

When he shifted slightly and winced, you pulled back in alarm, big eyes blinking up at him.

Remus grinned, eyes twinkling. "What is this? Afraid of hurting me, dove?"

You gave a series of indignant little chirps, tail flicking in protest.

At that moment, Sirius swept in from the doorway, brows lifting at the sight before him. "Well, well," he chuckled, crouching down. "Look who is causing trouble already."

He scooped you up carefully, cradling you close, pressing a kiss to the top of your furry head.

"Alright, enough showing off," he murmured fondly. "Come back to us, pretty girl."

At the warmth in his voice, you let the magic ripple once more, shifting back in a blink, now nestled in Sirius’s arms, your bare skin against the warmth of his chest.

Remus and James were beaming at you, eyes bright with love and relief.

"There you are," James teased softly, reaching to brush his knuckles down your cheek.

You giggled, leaning into his touch as Sirius kissed your temple and Remus gave a soft, shaky laugh, still holding your gaze as though he could hardly believe you were truly alright.

The first pale light of morning was creeping through the thinning trees, brushing the world in soft, misted gold. The forest lay hushed in the aftermath of the night, the sharp edge of the full moon dulled now, fading beneath the slow, blooming light of dawn.

Sirius had an arm wrapped tightly around Remus, supporting most of his weight as they walked. Remus was swaying between steps, utterly spent, head drooping against Sirius’s shoulder, his breath still coming in slow, unsteady pulls. Sirius spoke to him in low, soothing murmurs, each word a tether keeping him grounded, close.

James stayed at your side, and the determined set of his jaw told you there was no use arguing. You tried anyway.

"I can walk, Jamie," you said stubbornly. Your side still throbbed faintly beneath your bandages, but nothing you could not handle.

James gave you a pointed look, one brow arched, hazel eyes dark beneath the stray curls falling into his face. "Not taking any chances with you."

He stooped then, swift and sure, arms sliding beneath your knees and back before you could so much as blink. You squeaked softly as he lifted you against his chest.

"James—"

He cut you off with a quiet look. "You do not get to argue. Not tonight."

You huffed, half exasperated, half endeared, curling instinctively into him as he carried you with maddening ease. His warmth, the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek, was a comfort you could not deny.

They walked in pairs, Sirius and Remus behind you, James carrying you just ahead, each step steady and sure. The path wound gently through the soft hush of dawn, the castle spires beginning to rise through the misted distance.

James broke the quiet first, his voice low, for your ears alone.

"When we get back," he murmured, "Sirius and I are going to have a long talk with you."

You stiffened a little in his arms, glancing up at him. His mouth was set, serious now.

"You cannot do that again," he continued, gaze fixed ahead.

"You cannot throw yourself between Moony and a fox just because you want to help." His tone was quiet but sharp, firm beneath the softness. "That is not how this works."

You opened your mouth to speak, but he hushed you immediately, glancing back to where Remus leaned against Sirius, his eyes heavy with exhaustion.

"Not now," James whispered. "Do not wake him with this. Just listen."

You closed your mouth, gaze dropping.

James’s voice gentled a little, though the weight of his words remained. "We go as a pack for a reason, dove. We are there to protect him. But we are also there to protect each other. And I swear to Merlin, Sirius and I—and bloody Remus himself—would rather see a fox dead ten times over than see you hurt. Do you understand?"

You swallowed, heart twisting with guilt beneath your ribs. After a beat, you nodded softly against his chest.

"Good." James whispered, pressing a kiss into your hair.

You shook your head with a smirk. "You won’t be dead by twenty-one."

James laughed, a warm sound that held a hint of something more. "I sure hope so," he said, eyes gleaming. "But if you keep getting into trouble like this, I won’t make it."

You smiled softly, brushing your nose against his jaw. "I’m sorry," you whispered. "I promise I won’t give you another heart attack."

"You had better not," he said, though the corners of his mouth lifted into a smile, eyes warm now, brushing away the sharpness of before.

Behind you, Sirius’s quiet murmurs carried through the still air, words of comfort for Remus, who remained nestled against him, too worn to do more than breathe slowly, softly, safe in the circle of their love.

The familiar stone halls of the castle greeted you like a sanctuary. The heavy oak doors gave way with a low creak beneath Sirius’s shoulder, James just behind him, still holding you carefully in his arms.

The corridors were quiet now, blessedly empty, save for the soft shuffle of your little group making its way up through the winding staircases.

Remus was barely conscious, eyes fluttering open for the briefest of moments before slipping shut again.

Sirius carried him with fierce protectiveness, whispering softly into his hair, words meant only for him, as though he could anchor him through the remnants of pain and exhaustion.

At last, your dorm appeared around the corner. Inside, everything was as you had left it, warm and waiting.

Sirius lowered Remus gently onto the wide bed, tugging the covers up and around him. Remus stirred only faintly, a soft sigh leaving his lips as he curled instinctively into the pillow. His chest rose and fell in slow, even rhythm now, sleep already pulling him under.

You had barely touched your feet to the floor before Sirius was there, reaching for you, strong arms sliding around your waist, pulling you in without a word. You melted against him at once, your cheek pressed to his chest, the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear.

“I am so glad you are alright,” Sirius whispered into your hair, voice low and tight with something unspoken. His fingers curled in the fabric of your shirt, holding you close as though to prove to himself that you were here, whole, safe.

“You scared me tonight. You scared all of us.”

“I know,” you whispered, guilt knotting in your chest. You tilted your face up to meet his eyes. “I am sorry, Siri. I... I did not mean to put anyone at risk. It just— it happened so quickly. I only wanted to help.”

His expression softened at that, though a faint crease lingered in his brow. He kissed your forehead tenderly, breathing you in.

“I know, love. I know you did. But this is not going to happen again. We cannot lose you. Do you understand me?”

You nodded, throat tightening. “I do. I promise.”

Sirius held you for another long moment before finally letting you go with a sigh, brushing his knuckles down your cheek.

James had already set about stripping off his boots, tossing them haphazardly beneath the bed. He looked over at the two of you, his smile soft and tired.

“You will be the death of us yet,” James murmured with affection, voice low so as not to disturb Remus, already deep in sleep. “But you handled yourself well tonight.”

You gave him a small smile, warmth blooming in your chest despite the ache of the night. “I was lucky.”

Sirius snorted softly, shaking his head. “Lucky or not, next time you so much as think about leaping between Moony and danger, we will hex you to the bed until the moon has passed.”

You laughed quietly, easing onto the bed beside them, muscles finally giving in to the pull of exhaustion.

James climbed in beside you, tossing an arm lazily over your waist, pulling you close. Sirius settled in next, curling against your other side, one hand resting lightly atop your hip, fingers tracing idle patterns.

Remus lay at the center, soft breaths whispering through parted lips, brow smooth in sleep now, all tension melted away.

You glanced toward him, heart tugging with quiet fondness, with a love that ached in the softest corners of your soul.

Even if he never learned the truth of that night—how it was his own claws that caused the wound—and even though you had all agreed, silently, to spare him that burden, sometimes a lie was not cruelty. It was mercy, a fragile shield to protect a heart too fragile to bear the weight of guilt it did not need to carry.

And in the end, the four of you had been lucky.

It was, after all, only just a scratch.

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remmyj-ohnloops · 1 day ago

Text

Bird-napped!

poly!marauders x fem!reader

synopsis: a peaceful afternoon takes a chaotic turn when the marauders mistake an eagle’s prey for flicker, sending them into full-blown panic.

warnings: starts of with the marauders pov then shifts to r’s. crack, fluff, eagle scare, suggestive comments, playful tackles, shifting, animal-related confusion, no actual danger. written at 2 am and not proofread :D

w/c: 2.1k

a/n: this was a little messy, but i still wanted to share it <3

part of my mini blurb series flicker's adventures

masterlist

The afternoon sun filtered softly through the canopy, casting dappled light on the ground.

James and Remus had agreed to meet in an old copse of trees, just a short walk from the Black Lake — far enough from the crowded castle corridors to steal a moment of peace

They spotted Padfoot already there, stretched out like a lazy shadow beneath a great oak, his tail flicking now and then in a restless dance, caught somewhere between sleep and wakefulness.

James crouched beside Sirius, his hand moving gently to ruffle the dark fur along his neck, drawing a low, contented rumble from Padfoot.

Remus, ever cautious, glanced around before he muttered, “Careful, Sirius. Someone might catch you shifting.” Sirius just smirked lazily, indifferent, curling his head on James’s lap and immediately launching into his usual chatter.

“Where do you think Dovey’s got to this time?” James asked, fingers still running through Sirius’s untamed hair.

“Probably tangled up in some ridiculous flower crown thing with that Slytherin Pandora.”

Remus smiled, eyes softening as he looked up from his book. “I swear, she’s lways got her nose in the strangest things. I don’t know how she puts up with Pandora dragging her into those wild plans.”

Sirius’s eyes gleamed with amusement even as he rested more heavily against James’s leg.

“Wild thing, through and through,” Sirius murmured, arms tucked behind his head as he lounged lazily in the grass.

James didn’t even look up as he tossed a twig into the air. “Speaking of wild — remind me why we agreed to play Slytherin with half the team down? I swear, if I get hit by one more poorly-aimed Bludger—”

“You’d deserve it,” Remus said mildly, flipping a page in his book. “Maybe if you actually followed the practice schedule.”

James scoffed. “I follow it religiously.”

“You show up late, eat half a pie on the pitch, and leave early.”

“And yet, I’m still the best on the team.”

Sirius shifted his weight with the grace of a sleepy cat, adjusting his head on James’s lap mid-sentence.

“Oi—Sirius—don't—” James’s words cut off into a strangled sound that landed somewhere between a yelp and a dying goose.

He jerked backwards, hands flailing. “Merlin's saggy balls, you absolute wanker!”

Remus looked up from his book, blinking. “What—?”

Sirius, perfectly unbothered, blinked up at James with mischievous eyes, head still resting in place. “What?” he asked innocently, lips twitching.

“That your... weak spot, Prongs?”

James shoved at his shoulder. “You pressed your thick skull right onto my dick, you arse. I think I just saw heaven for all the wrong reasons.”

Remus snorted, unbothered.

“I’m gonna have to hex you,” James grumbled, rubbing his temples dramatically. “Remind me why we’re dating him again?”

“Because I’m devastatingly handsome and keep your bed warm,” Sirius offered, rolling onto his back like a smug cat.

“Plus, I’m excellent at giving you the best dic—wait.”

His voice stopped. His head tilted back, eyes narrowing at the sky above.

“Wait, what the hell is that?”

James followed his gaze, frowning. “Looks like… an eagle?”

James blinked. “Wait. That’s… it’s orange.”

Sirius’s voice dropped to a horrified whisper. “It’s fluffy.”

Remus’s book fell to the ground with a dull thud. “That’s Flicker!”

Silence slammed between them for one breathless second.

And then all hell broke loose.

“Oh my god, it’s Flicker!” James leapt to his feet, nearly knocking Sirius over.

All three exploded into motion, limbs flying as they tore off the ground.

“What the fuck do we do?” Sirius was already pacing in frantic circles, hands tangled in his hair, breath shallow with panic.

“Do we fly? Do we—oh Merlin, if she gets dropped—”

“She’s gonna die,” James cried, arms flailing as his voice pitched higher, ragged with fear.

“She’s gonna die, I swear I’m gonna throw myself into the lake—”

Remus shoved both of them. “Shift. We shift and we run. We follow the bird and get her.”

That snapped them out of it.

Sirius nodded so fast his hair nearly whipped him in the eye.

Without another word, he dropped to the ground and transformed, a large black dog materializing where the boy had stood. James followed, antlers bursting outward as he landed as Prongs, hooves already kicking up earth.

Remus, still in human form, pointed with one shaking hand toward the direction the eagle was drifting, slowly curving into the trees.

“Go! Go that way—north ridge—she’s still moving!”

Prongs snorted and took off at a gallop, Padfoot close on his heels, weaving through the underbrush like a shadow given legs.

Remus grabbed his wand and sprinted behind them, heart pounding in his chest, a single thought looping in his head:

Meanwhile, not so very far away—though in that moment, it might as well have been a world apart—you were crouched in a patch of sunlight dappled through the forest canopy, fingers dusty with soil and glittering with flecks of quartz.

Pandora was kneeling beside you, delicately unearthing a piece of rose-colored crystal from the mossy earth and cradling it as though it held the secrets of the universe.

“This one’s called rhodonite,” she murmured with reverence, turning it so the pink surface caught the light.

“It’s for healing old wounds. Emotional ones. You’re supposed to keep it near your heart.”

You smiled, tucking a newly-plucked daisy into the growing crown in your lap.

The basket between you was overflowing with flowers—wild hyacinths, dahlias, foxglove—and a pouch of odd little gemstones Pandora had eagerly insisted you help her gather.

“I think you need this one,” she added, handing you a small smoky quartz. “For grounding. You’re always too far up in the clouds, even if you don’t know it.”

You took it with a soft chuckle. “I think you just like giving me rocks.”

She shrugged dreamily, pushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Well, the rocks like you back.”

And just as you were about to laugh again, it happened.

A low rustling through the trees. Then a sharp thud. And another.

You both froze.

Pandora tilted her head. “Do you hear—?”

The barking came next, loud and frantic, too close for comfort. Your body tensed instantly.

Your breath caught.

“Padfoot?” you whispered, rising to your feet, eyes scanning the edges of the grove.

Another bark. Then heavy hoofbeats—closer, louder, thundering through the underbrush like a storm rolling in too fast to run from.

“Something’s wrong,” you said, voice barely above a breath as the air shifted.

You could see them now, just through a break in the trees: three silhouettes tearing through the underbrush like men possessed, chasing something overhead with a kind of reckless desperation that only one group of idiots you loved would display so dramatically.

You blinked up at the sky.

And there it was — a massive eagle soaring across the canopy, wings slicing the air like knives, talons gripping what looked suspiciously like a very round, very red squirrel.

You slowed only slightly as the realization settled in, breath hitching as you caught sight of the chaos unfolding in the distance. With a sharp inhale, you turned to Pandora, who blinked at you in confusion, clutching a half-finished flower crown.

“I’ll explain later, I swear,” you said hurriedly, thrusting the basket of flowers and crystals into her arms. “Hold onto this for me”

Her brows furrowed. “What—”

“Sorry!” you called over your shoulder, already bolting into a sprint.

“These bloody idiots,” you muttered as the wind caught in your hair, trees flying past you while you ran headfirst into whatever ridiculous mess they’d gotten themselves into now.

By the time you reached the clearing where the boys had half-collided with one another, Remus was the first to see you.

He froze like he’d been struck by lightning, eyes wide, chest heaving. “Wait— Stop! Stop!”

James, mid-gallop, skidded to a halt, antlers jerking. Padfoot, barking wildly, nearly faceplanted in the ferns before spinning and looking over his shoulder.

They turned.

And there you were, flushed and panting and very much not airborne in the talons of a ravenous bird of prey.

“Y/n?” Remus breathed, already half-running toward you.

You blinked as he reached you in three long strides, hands cupping your face like he couldn’t believe you were real, like if he let go you’d vanish into mist.

His eyes scanned every inch of you — for feathers, for bruises, for any sign that you’d been halfway to becoming bird food.

“You’re okay,” he whispered, voice thick. “Oh, thank Merlin. You’re okay.”

You huffed a laugh, confused and breathless. “Remmy, I went to pick flowers, not to get abducted by wildlife.”

Before he could respond, Padfoot and Prongs came barreling toward you.

In a whirl of limbs and fur, they shifted — fur rippling into skin, hooves becoming boots, antlers shrinking back into James’s curls as Sirius practically tackled you.

“Do you have any idea,” Sirius gasped, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you gently, “how bloody traumatizing it is to think your tiny girlfriend just got airlifted by a murder pigeon?”

“It looked just like you!” James added, chest heaving.

“All poofy and red and — and we couldn’t see properly from down there and—”

“You thought a bird kidnapped me?” you asked, blinking.

“It wasn’t just a bird,” Sirius said gravely, eyes wide. “It was an eagle. Like a huge eagle. We thought you were doing your little Flicker thing and got snatched.”

You blinked, then laughter bubbled up from deep inside, breaking free in a breathless, genuine laugh, the kind that made your whole body shake and left your cheeks aching, the kind you only ever had with them.

“You thought I got bird-napped?”

James looked mildly betrayed. “Don’t mock us. You’re the size of a housecat, love. I saw the thing — it was flying off with something that looked exactly like you.”

“I was with Pandora!” you laughed, trying to catch your breath.

“We were making flower crowns. And collecting crystals. Like normal girls.”

“Nothing about you is normal,” Sirius muttered, still holding onto your arms like you might vanish again. “I thought I was gonna have to wrestle an eagle.”

“I would’ve wrestled an eagle,” James added helpfully, one hand pressed dramatically over his heart. “For you. I was ready to duel with talons.”

Remus was quieter, still looking you over, but the relief in his eyes was unmistakable. “You scared us.”

Your smile softened. “You lot scared me more. I thought something had happened. Then I see the three of you charging through the woods like a pack of wild dogs—”

“One wild dog,” Sirius cut in, smirking.

The forest around you settled again. The eagle was long gone, probably off to find a real squirrel, and the boys slowly stopped vibrating with adrenaline.

You shook your head, still grinning. “You three are ridiculous.”

“And yet,” Sirius said, flinging an arm around your shoulders, “you love us.”

You leaned into him anyway, cheeks warm. “Unfortunately.”

Remus exhaled, finally letting himself smile. James reached out and tucked a stray leaf out of your hair.

The air felt lighter now, sun filtering down in golden dappled patches through the leaves, your basket of half-finished flower crowns still somewhere in the moss behind you.

“Well,” James said, looking between the three of you, “anyone else feel like we need a nap after all that emotional trauma?”

By the time you all made it back to the tree, the sun had shifted lower in the sky, stretching long shadows across the mossy ground, golden light spilling like honey through the branches.

The walk was slow and easy, filled with soft laughter that bubbled up between you like warm sunshine. Remus still hadn’t let go of your hand, and neither of you minded the world fading away around you.

"You had me so worried," he said again as you reached the clearing, and this time he sounded more exasperated than panicked, like the weight of the fear was finally settling.

His fingers curled more firmly around yours. "Do you have any idea how fast I aged in those fifteen minutes? I might have a gray hair now. D’you want to check?"

You grinned at him, nudging his ribs. "You would look very distinguished with a few grays, actually. Very professor-chic."

"Don't encourage him," James chimed in, dropping to the ground dramatically and patting the grass beside him like he was summoning a beloved pet. "You give Moony ideas and next thing you know he’s doing lecture voices."

Remus rolled his eyes, looking entirely unbothered, and turned back to you. "Still. You scared me, dovey. Don’t run off into the woods without telling someone, or at least leave a note.”

"I was gone for thirty minutes ," you said through a giggle, but kissed his cheek anyway. "Sorry, Moony."

"That’s too long," Sirius muttered as he threw himself down beside James with a groan, already halfway into transforming.

With a flash of fur, Padfoot was trotting in circles around you, tail wagging, tongue lolling out like he hadn't just been sprinting through the forest like a man possessed.

You reached down and scratched behind his ears, and he gave a pleased little huff before flopping dramatically across your lap.

"God, you’re heavy," you said, and Padfoot thumped his tail lazily against your leg.

"Oh my God," you laughed, and then with a quiet whoosh of energy, you shifted into Flicker.

Your fur brushed over Padfoot’s chest and he let out an excited bark, rolling onto his side so your tails could swish together in lazy arcs.

James leaned back against the tree with a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Look at them,” he said to Remus, “absolute menaces, both of them.”

Remus, still standing, shook his head and pulled a book out of the bag he’d brought with him. “You say that like you aren’t the biggest menace in this group.”

“I am very charming, actually,” James said, inching closer as Remus settled beside him, “and incredibly reasonable.”

“You screamed because Sirius accidentally headbutted your—”

“Do not finish that sentence.”

“—your most prized possession.”

Flicker snorted audibly and Padfoot whined in agreement.

James pouted. “I’ll have you know it was a traumatic experience.”

Padfoot and Flicker had by now rolled closer to them, bumping up against James’s boots and Remus’s knee.

Padfoot flopped dramatically across James’s lap, tail smacking the book. Flicker curled around Remus’s foot, a little puff of auburn fur resting gently against his ankle.

Remus looked down and smiled softly, reaching down to brush a knuckle against Flicker’s ears. “You’re lucky we love you,” he murmured, low and warm.

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remmyj-ohnloops · 2 days ago

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. ۫ ꣑ৎ . ITS RAINING MEN ! one. MEET CUTE (poly!marauders x fem!reader) part one.

summary: moving into a new flat in london as an aspiring romance novelist, you definitely did not expect to have the three most hottest neighbours. but who were you to complain? looking for inspiration for your first book, you stumble upon the most perfect mmc’s.. hallelujah!

a/n: this is most very likely going to be a multiple part fic because of all these ideas and potential this dynamic has.. it’s going to be slow.. but definitely worth it.

At 23, borderline adult, it was definitely time to move away from my family home and to start my own new life somewhere different.

It truly had been a long time coming.

Moving from the usual causality of new england farm life to the loud capital city of London was a drastic change that I was embracing to take.

Sure it came with sacrifices; the no longer safety net of my parents, the new accustomed living and not to mention the lonesomeness.

It was definitely a drastic change.

But it was essential in filling up the drawing board of inspiration for my self proclaim to being an author. It had to be something I got right, being my first redemption into the publication industry.

And simply, Maine wasn’t that captivating when it came to writing the perfect gentlemen character of men in my own universe.

They weren’t cutting it, the men I dated whilst living at home were enough to send anyone over the edge if they weren’t used to it like I had.

The film’s I watched always made the British men seem so much more respectful and wishful, even if it was only a select few.

I only needed to observe to paint their characteristics.

Standing in front of my new flat building, I observed the new city landscape. It was loud, busily and the rain painted a new picture.

Looking at the time on my watch, 12:31pm, I bite my lip anxiously as I waited for the landlord to drop the keys off.

The moving truck I had hired was parked up the road outside the building, all the furniture I could find from family who were willing to give it away packed away safely.

“Are you, Y/n?” A man approached, scruffy looking with a cigarette in his mouth. I had to bite back a grimace at the aroma of him.

“Thats me,” I nodded, seeing a key chain his jeans I assumed this was Mark, my new landlord.

“Welcome to London, darlin’,” He grinned, flashing an appointed smile of greeting. Mark handed over the key, blowing out his puff of air in my face.

I coughed, “Thanks-“ fanning the air of the residual, the man didn’t even wait for me to finish my sentence until he was stalking off towards his beat up truck.

Charming.

Looking up at the building, I used the key to open the door and propped it upon with a brick temporarily.

“You can unload now, Its flat 13.” I nodded to the moving men. They laughed.

“Sweetheart, we’re only here to deliver thats additional services.”

I frowned, “How much is the additional?”

“£500.”

My mouth gaped, I didn’t have that kind of money to spare. I needed it for living.

The guy sighed, “We can bring the couch and bed up for £20.”

“Really? That would be really great.” I grinned, handing over the twenty note.

“Just because you’re gorgeous,” Another guy added, winking. Gross.

It took them a total of 15 minutes and some various disgusting passes later till they were packing up and my boxes were at the bottom of the stairs.

I had no idea how I was going to get these up 2 floors. Luckily, I had sacrificed many clothes at home and was only left with 3 boxes. Anymore would have been a mood killer.

Hands on hip, and hair tied up in my claw clip I stared at the stupid boxes and the flights of stairs.

“You alright, love?” Someone interrupted, I jumped in surprise turning around to see a gorgeous man.

Tanned, tall with a blessed muscle of athletic build. A mop of curly brown hair, glasses covering his green eyes. Fucking hell.

“Oh! Sorry, I just moved in, trying to figure out how to move these boxes.” You sheepishly smile, cheeks tinging in pink embarrassment.

The guy smiled friendly, sweating with a bottle of water in his hand as he seemingly had just got back from some sort of workout. “Ah, well welcome to the flat block, I can help you move the boxes if you need.”

“Oh, you really don’t have to.” I shake my head, gesturing to his attire, “Looks like you’ve already had a workout.”

He grins, “I’d be more than happy to help, extra workout.”

“Thanks.” I smiled, “I’m Y/N by the way.”

“James.” He smiled, leaning down to grab the first box, “What number are you?”

“13.”

“Well hello neighbour, I live in 12 with my mates.” If James’ was a based judgement on the rest of his friends, then they’re definitely going to be as attractive as him.

“Thats nice, have you lived here long?” I asked, making friendly banter as I pick up the smaller box and follow him up the stairs.

“For about three years, straight out of university, we all moved to London for a fresh start.” James replied.

“Same as me. Moved away from my hometown in Maine, looking for something new here.”

“Maine, you really are looking for something new.” He laughed as we approached my door.

I put the box on the floor, unlocking the door with my key, “It’ll be a challenge, but it’s exciting.”

He carried the box in to the open plan floor, “Well, if you ever need a tourist or anything, I’m the door opposite.” He smiled.

I flushed at the idea of seeing him again, clearing my throat, “Thank you for your help James, you’re a saviour seriously.”

“It’s no problem, Love.” He waved it off smiling, “Let me grab the other box and i’ll be back.”

I nodded in appreciation, looking around to take in the place that I would live for a few years.

It wasn’t anything grand, it was a decent sized one bedroom with a kitchen and bathroom. For the price, It was what expected. Sure, It was dusty and there was definitely some decoration issues on the chipped walls and battered windows but it would do.

Anything was a great opportunity.

Plus the fantastic roommate as a view is definitely a positive plus.

James walks back in with ease carrying the heaviest box, “Is that everything, love?”

I nod, smiling, “Yeah, thank you.”

“My pleasure.” He nods, lingering in the door as I try not to ogle his muscles restraining against his compression shirt, “See you around.” He winks and waves stepping into his own front door.

With a shaky sigh I shut my own front door, back against the green door looking at the boxes on the floor.

To a new life.

a/n: thank you for reading part one!

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remmyj-ohnloops · 2 days ago

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The Art of Hating You: Part Two - Sirius Black x Reader

AN - hello part two is finally here. sorry for the wait - i posted this the other day and then swiftly deleted it and rewrote it lol. thank u for reading <3 (3.2k words)

Part One

The Art of Hating You - Masterlist

Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about Sirius. It was driving her insane. The altercation that they had last night lingered in her thoughts. She had always assumed that Sirius simply chose to be reckless. A thorn in his family’s side just for the hell of it. She wasn't so sure anymore.

She saw the way his mother’s sharp gaze cut through him like glass, how his father barely acknowledged his presence unless it was to scold him. And Regulus? She hadn’t even realised he lived in the house until she met him at dinner one night, stiff-backed and silent, sparing Sirius nothing more than a fleeting disapproving glance.

Dinner that evening started as most things did in this house - with Walburga Black’s disapproval. With a sharp thwack, she slammed a newspaper onto the table, sending the fine china and silverware rattling.

“Sirius,” she began, her voice cold, “do you ever think about the family name before embarrassing yourself?”

Absentmindedly swirling the mind in his glass, he didn’t even look up, “Not if I can help it.”

His mother’s nostrils flared. She read aloud, “’Black heir or black sheep? Sirius Black spotted at underground party with questionable company’” Her bony fingers stabbed at the page.

Y/N couldn’t help herself and craned her neck to get a better look at the article. Sure enough, there he was – a rather impressive photograph of him lounging on a velvet sofa in a dimly lit bar, a cigarette hanging from his lips and a whisky glass dangling from his fingers. He looked infuriatingly unbothered and several equally unbothered looking women surrounded him.

Y/N breathed out a quiet laugh, “Could you at least pretend to be miserable about our engagement.”

“I was,” Sirius said smoothly, “That’s why I went out.”

Across the table, Orion Black, who had remained silent up until now, set his own glass down with a heavy thud.

“Do you enjoy humiliating this family?” he asked, his voice deceivingly calm.

Sirius took a moment to respond, stretching his arm along the back of his chair completely unfazed. He drained the rest of his wine, reached for the bottle and poured himself another glass without breaking eye contact.

“Immensely.” he replied.

Regulus sighed sharply through his nose, shaking his head barely enough to be noticed. Walburga closed her eyes for a second, like she was asking an unseen force for some patience.

Dinner ended in tense silence, the clatter of silverware the only sound filling the room. Y/N pushed her food around her plate uncomfortably as Walburga muttered something about disgrace and wasted potential under her breath. Opposite her, Sirius remained infuriatingly composed, lazily twirling his wine glass between his fingers.

After what felt like an eternity, Orion stood up, signalling the end of the meal. Everyone filtered out of the room silently apart from Sirius who stayed seated. He was glaring at the seat his mother was sat in, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Surely you’re not abandoning me just yet?” he called as Y/N made to leave the room, “No post-dinner debrief? There’s still wine left.”

She lingered by the doorway, casting a glance over her shoulder. Against her better judgement, she sighed and turned back, crossing the room and wordlessly sliding back into her seat. She pushed her empty glass toward him.

Sirius’s lips twitched as he reached for the bottle, pouring generously, “I think my mother’s warming up to you.”

“Oh, yes, I can tell.” Y/N replied dryly, “The way she scowled at me all evening really radiated maternal affection.”

Sirius huffed out a low laugh, “That was nothing. You should see her when she’s really angry.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Smart choice. She has a real talent for ruining evenings.”

Y/N took a sip, the warmth of the wine settling in her chest, “I don't know, this one was quite eventful. She insulted you. You antagonised her. Your father looked like he’d rather shit in his own hands and clap than acknowledge your existence. And Regulus has perfected his silent disappointment act. A true Black family dinner.”

Sirius snorted, “You catch on quick.”

“Do you not get tired of pissing them off?” Y/N asked, glancing towards the abandoned newspaper still laying on the table.

“I enjoy reminding them that they don’t own me.”

“I just find it interesting that you play into their game just as much as they do. You act like they don’t matter, but everything you do is a reaction to them.”

For the first time, his smirk faltered. He blinked at her, amusement flickering into something more guarded. She wasn’t sure why she said it or why she was pushing. Maybe it was the wine or the lingering frustration at their situation, or maybe it was because she was starting to see the cracks in his carefully constructed facade.

“And what about you?” Sirius leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

“What about me?”

“You sit through these dinners, endure their judgement, play the part of my loving fiancée,” he cocked his head at her, “Tell me, Y/N, who are you trying to please?”

Her grip tightened around her glass, the stem pressing into her fingers. His gaze was heavy and tore through her in a way that made it impossible to hide behind a clever remark.

“I don’t know.” she said finally, her voice coming out quieter than expected, “I’m hardly playing the part of your loving fiancée. We both know that I can’t stand you.”

Sirius hummed, studying her as if he was trying to pick her apart. He was good at that. Shifting so quickly from being arrogant and teasing to aiming a sharp jab at her weakest points.

“You’re different from what I expected.” He said after a while.

“And what did you expect?”

“Someone like them,” he gestured to the door, “another pawn. Someone desperate for their approval. Someone who wouldn’t challenge me.”

“Disappointed then?”

“Surprised.”

She wasn’t sure what to make of that, so she looked away, tracing the rim of her glass with her fingertip. “This whole thing is ridiculous.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“They actually think forcing us together will change anything.”

“They’re delusional.” Sirius shook his head.

“The conversation the other day...The one your parents had-”

“The one you were eavesdropping on?” He interrupted, “I don’t know what that was about. I’m just as in the dark as you are.”

Sirius stood up abruptly, pushing his chair back with a scrape, “Come on.”

Y/N frowned, “Where are you going?”

“I need a cigarette. And you need fresh air before you start spiralling.”

“I’m not spiralling.” she muttered, following him nonetheless.

The night air was crisp and cool, tinged with the scent of rain. Outside, the Black manor and all it’s suffocating expectations felt far away. Sirius strolled down one of the pebbled paths, Y/N followed behind him. He pulled a pretty cigarette case from his pocket. The glow of the flame cast sharp shadows across his features as he lit it. The smoke curled ie curled into the night as he exhaled.

“If you’re lucky, maybe my mother will disown me before the wedding.”

Y/N huffed out a quiet laugh, wrapping her arms around herself for warmth, “And what? You’ll be free?”

Sirius didn’t answer immediately. He averted his gaze up to the night sky. It was clear out - it always seemed to be here. The acres of land around the property meant that there wasn’t as much light pollution as in the city Sirius frequented on his rebellious nights out.

“Something like that.”

It was early afternoon when Remus showed up. Unannounced, unbothered and about halfway through a cigarette. He leaned against the bonnet of his car, wearing the same beat-up jacket that he had worn since university. As soon as she spotted him through the grand front windows, Y/N darted out to greet him before one of the maids could ask if he had an appointment.

“You look like hell.” he said, by way of greeting, pulling her into a hug.

“Nice to see you too.”

Remus held her in his embrace a moment longer than necessary, his eyes flicked up to the house behind her, “So, how’s aristocratic captivity treating you?”

She sighed and pulled away, “Like a nightmare that I can’t wake up from.”

“And the groom-to-be?”

She looked over her shoulder at the manor, as if Sirius might appear in one of the windows, “Complicated.”

“That bad, eh?”

“He’s infuriating and smug and impossible to read, but he’s also-” she broke off, biting her lip, “not who I thought he’d be.”

“God help you,” Remus muttered, “You’re starting to like him.”

Y/N scoffed, “Far from it. I’m starting to understand him, and I think that might be worse actually.”

Remus dropped his cigarette and ground it out with his heel, “Am I getting a proper tour of the prison then?”

They eventually settled in the library, one of the only rooms that didn’t feel as cold as the rest. Significantly less portraits of long deceased family members adorned the room; the walls lined with books instead. There was a large fireplace at the end of the room, it blazed as if someone had just been in here.

“Where is he?” Remus asked, settling into a velvet armchair in front of the fireplace.

“Brooding somewhere, probably,” she sat across from him, curling her legs beneath her, “Or winding his brother up.”

“So, nothing’s changed then.” Remus laughed.

Y/N was about to speak again when there was a patter of dress shoes in the hall, and then a voice that didn’t belong to the manor at all. She shot Remus a look and he just shrugged his shoulders.

“Black?” The voice called out. A second later, a mop of curls appeared around the doorframe, “Your front door is ridiculous, and your groundskeeper just threatened to shoot me.”

He strolled in like he owned the place and when his eyes landed on Y/N and Remus his expression brightened.

“Remus bloody Lupin! I thought you’d either died or moved back to Wales.”

“Still disappointingly alive,” Remus stood up to greet the other man, “However you literally saw me in the pub a few months ago.”

James waved him off and rolled his eyes, turning to Y/N. “Friend of Remus. Friend of Sirius. Frequent witness to disasters. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He shook her hand.

“Half of those things are lies.” said Remus, slouching back in his chair.

“Which half?” James frowned and Remus waggled his eyebrows at him, “Which half, Lupin!?”

“I’m Y/N,” she interjected, “Professional hostage.”

James let out a laugh, “Brilliant. You’ve got a sense of humour. You’ll survive.”

He was taller than Sirius by a few inches, stockier too. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows – smartly dressed but in a way that looked like it came naturally to him, as if he hadn’t put in any effort at all.

“So, what are you doing here?” Remus asked as James perched on the arm of his chair.

“He called me last night. Said, and I quote, ‘Come over before I set fire to something I actually like.’ Which from Sirius, is basically like receiving a love letter.” James folded his arms across his chest, “Where is the prat anyway? Phoned me up in a huff and told me to come over and now is nowhere to be seen.”

“He called after it all kicked off at dinner I assume?” Y/N questioned.

“Yeah, he mentioned about that,” James pushed his glasses up on his nose, “So, how bad is it?”

“The engagement?”

“No, Y/N, his deranged mother’s wine selection at dinner. Yes. The engagement.”

She let out an almost laugh, “Somewhere between tragic and mildly entertaining. I haven’t actually come to terms with the fact that this is my life yet.”

“Tragic and mildly entertaining. That sounds like Sirius.” James teased.

“He’d kill you if he heard you say that.” Remus chuckled, nudging the other boy in the ribs, “Actually, Y/N was just telling me that she’s starting to see through him.”

James cocked his head and smirked, “To the tortured soul beneath?”

“To the wreckage underneath the performance.” Y/N corrected.

“Hah! No wonder he likes you.”

She froze, “He doesn’t-”

James raised both of his hands in mock surrender, “I didn’t say he admits it!”

There was a short silence before James grew a bit more serious, his voice quieter, “Listen, I know this whole situation is – well it’s fucked up. But Sirius... he’s been different the last few weeks. He’s been phoning me at odd hours and, he hasn’t said anything but I feel like he’s planning something.”

“Planning what?” Y/N picked nervously at a loose thread on the arm of her chair.

Before James could answer, the door creaked open again. Sirius stood in the doorway, a lit cigarette in one hand.

“Well,” he said dryly, “If I’d have known it was a bloody reunion, I’d have got the cook to bake a cake.”

Sirius stepped further into the room, flicking ash into a crystal tray on the sideboard. When he got to James, the stoney expression cracked and a genuine grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“You took your time.” he pulled him into a hug.

“You called me at two in the morning with vague threats of setting the place on fire. I thought I’d give it until the morning so you could cool off. Didn’t want to accidentally become an accomplice to arson.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Sirius smiled and settled into an armchair. He flicked his cigarette into the fireplace and looked at Remus, “Moony, still dressing like a haunted literature professor I see.”

Remus winked at him, “Consistency is key.”

“You alright?” James shifted uncomfortably on the arm of the chair and eyed Sirius carefully.

Sirius waved off the question and reached for another cigarette, “Better now you’re here, Prongsy.”

James didn’t look entirely convinced but he let it go. Y/N sat still, becoming increasingly aware of how out of place she felt in amongst the trio of old friends. She hadn’t realised how close they all were. Remus had mentioned Sirius and James before, of course, but she never imagined how deep their friendship ran.

“So?” Remus prompted, “Are you going to tell us what’s going on, or are we supposed to guess?”

“Guessing would be more fun. I can act it out like charades if you like?” Sirius smirked, leaning forward. Y/N reached over and smacked him on the arm.

“Ouch!” Sirius clutched his arm dramatically, “Violence? In front of guests?”

“Talk. Now.”

“Fine, fine.” he sat up straighter, his smirk slipping just slightly, “If you’re all that desperate to know... they’re pushing for a wedding date.”

Y/N could tell he was looking at her as he said it, but she kept her eyes trained on the fireplace. The fire curled around the logs in the hearth, the embers glowing for a moment before turning to ash. She could tell Sirius was bracing himself for her reaction. She didn’t give him one.

“Already?” James frowned, “You said you had time.”

“Apparently not. Mother’s worried about appearances. Father wants to tie it up before I embarrass them further.”

“I suppose it’s not ideal when you have a disobedient heir and a noncompliant bride.” Remus added dryly.

“Charming, cheers, Rem.” Y/N shot him a look and Sirius flipped him off without even looking. Remus only laughed.

“They’ve moved it. 6 weeks, give or take.” Sirius dropped his voice a little. He nudged Y/N’s foot with his, trying to get her attention. His shoes were scuffed, the black leather on the toe of them worn smooth. Y/N imagined his mother’s disapproval as he carried on speaking.

“I didn’t know anything about it, obviously.” Sirius continued, “Reg overheard them talking in the parlour the other day. The silly little git accidentally let it slip to me this morning.” he chucked but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“This is all your fault.” Y/N spoke suddenly, standing up so quickly and with such force that it caused her armchair to screech on the wooden floor. James and Remus winced. “If you hadn’t have pulled that stunt the other day, getting your name in the papers again, we could’ve had more time. You’re so unbelievably selfish.”

The words hit like a slap and Sirius blinked. He stood up too, although a lot more calmly than the girl in front of him.

“You think I did that on purpose?” his calm cracked, “That I planned for them to move the date just to spite you? Believe me, darling, I’m in no great rush to marry you either.”

“You knew it would piss them off. You always know and you do it anyway.” She seethed, “You know exactly how to provoke them and you do it time and time again – because you like it. Because for once it makes you feel like you have some sort of control over them.”

James let out a low whistle, both his and Remus’s heads turning from side to side between the pair like they were watching a tennis match.

“Oh, brilliant,” Sirius spat, “I forgot you’re the world’s leading expert on me after, what, three weeks of tolerating each other? You’ve barely seen me apart from the times my family force us to be together. Yet, you think you’ve got me all figured out?”

“I’ve seen enough. I’ve spent every waking minute since I’ve been here trying to figure out a way to get us out of this mess.” She raked a hand through her hair, pushing it out of her face, “I’ve watched you and all your little performances. Behind all of the bravado and smoke you’re just as afraid as I am.”

“Don’t fucking psychoanalyse me like you’re any better. You walk around the place playing the victim, like this whole thing is happening to you. Your family is just as much to blame as mine is.”

“Don’t.” She warned.

“Hit a nerve, did I?” Sirius said, quieter now, but no less cutting, “Breaking news - I don’t want to marry you either! Stop acting like you’re the only one with something to lose.”

“Well, thank God.” she said coldly, “Because I’ve spent the last few weeks perfecting the art of hating you and I couldn’t imagine anything worse than actually having to go through with this marriage.”

She turned on her heel and stormed out, slamming the heavy library door with a sound that echoed through the hall.

The quiet that followed was thick. Sirius stood still, jaw clenched, hand gripping the arm of the chair as if he was trying to steady himself. Remus and James eyed each other, stunned into silence as the pair argued.

James cleared his throat softly, “So... should we start drafting the table plan for the wedding or...”

Remus shot his friend a warning look before focusing back on Sirius, “Tell us what you’re planning.”

Sirius didn’t answer straight away. His body jerked as if he was going to head towards the door but his feet stayed rooted to the spot.

“Everything.” he muttered, “I’ll burn the whole fucking estate down before I marry her.”

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remmyj-ohnloops · 2 days ago

Note

I have an idea for bartender! Remus, if it’s something you’d be comfortable writing? (I know people have different boundaries on this kind of topic so if not totally ignore this)

But what about Reader goes to the bar to meet up with Remus (like an hour or so before he gets off work, they plan to hang out after but she figured might as well go have some fun, either with a friend or alone) and some random guy—could even be Snape/Mulciber/someone Remus knew from school??— is being creepy at the bar, then slips/tries to slip something into her drink when she’s not looking, and Remus catches him? Get some protective ‘Guard dog Wolf’ boyfriend and H/C action going on??

Up to you how far creepy guy gets in his endeavours lol whatever you’re comfortable with :))

In Safe Hands - Remus Lupin x Reader

AN - thank you for this request! This was something a bit different for me. i've put some links at the end with some info about spiking etc because it is a very real and very scary thing so pls be vigilant, keep an eye on your drinks, keep an eye on your mates and don't be afraid to tell creepy men to fuck off!

Warnings: mentions of drugs/ attempted spiking (nothing serious happens but worth mentioning incase it's a trigger for anyone) 2k words

“You’re still meeting me after my shift, yeah?” Remus asked, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his girlfriend’s head as he reached for his jacket draped over the sofa, “It’s alright if you’re too tired and don’t fancy it. I’ll be finishing late.”

Y/N looked up at him, her legs curled beneath her on the sofa. “Don’t be daft,” she said with a soft smile, “I’m meeting Lily anyway and we said we’d pop in for a drink before she meets James. I think she said he was going out somewhere with Sirius.”

“Oh God.” Remus widened his eyes jokingly, “I hope she doesn’t have to call me to pick the two of them up again.”

“Hah! I hope not,” she agreed, “But yeah. I’ll be there for sure. I like seeing you at work.”

Remus paused mid pocket pat, checking for the late shift essentials -lighter, cigarettes, keys- then raised an eyebrow at her, “Oh, yeah? What’s so fun about watching me pouring pints and dodging drunk blokes?”

She shrugged with a grin, “No particular reason. I just like seeing you in your element. All nice and charming and pretending that you’re not judging everyone.”

“I don’t pretend that hard.”

“Exactly.”

Remus leaned down, his fingers brushing against her jaw before kissing her softly again, “You’re an idiot,” he said fondly, “Alright, I’m off. See you later, lovey.”

The bar was already packed when Y/N and Lily walked in. It was familiar and gloomy with it’s dim lighting, scuffed wood and the hum of conversations. The large bar stretched across the middle of the room, people queuing up all around it.

“There - look!” Lily grabbed Y/N’s hand as she spotted two empty barstools and dragged her forwards.

“Perfect spot, eh?” Lily teased, “Front row seats to watch your boyfriend at work.”

“Shut up,” Y/N swatted at her friend playfully. She settled onto her stool and glanced down the length of the bar.

Remus was stood at the far end, deep in conversation with one of his regulars. One hand rested on the bar top, the other gesturing mid-story. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to the elbows and he had his dish cloth slung over his shoulder. The familiar furrow between his brows was a tell-tale sign that he was pretending not to enjoy himself.

Lily slid a menu across the bar towards her, though it was more ritual than necessity, “Are we pretending to deliberate for thirty seconds before ordering the exact same thing we always do?”

“Of course,” Y/N replied, “If it’s not broken don’t fix it.”

It didn’t take long for Remus to clock them. He finished pouring a beer and handed it off with a nod before making his way over to them.

“Well, well,” he said, leaning an elbow on the bar in front of them, “What did I do to earn the pleasure of both your company tonight?”

"Don’t flatter yourself,” Lily said dryly, though the corners of her mouth twitched into a smile, “I can’t stay long. Told James I’d meet him just after midnight.”

“Probably a good idea. Best not to leave him unattended with Sirius for too long. Remember last time when they nearly got banned from the pub quiz because of-”

“Please don’t remind me.” Lily cut him off, hiding her face in her hands.

Remus laughed and grabbed two glasses from under the bar, setting them down with a soft clink, “Same as usual?”

“You know us,” Y/N replied.

“Oh, I know. Creatures of habit, the pair of you,” he gestured towards Y/N. “Especially you – always sit on the right, always eye the mojito like you’re considering ordering something different and then order the same thing anyway.”

He held his hands up defensively and chuckled. Y/N watched him as he turned to make their drinks. He made it look effortless, and she loved catching his little quirks as he worked. The way he would tap each bottle twice before pouring, how he would flick his fingers when he shook the cocktail shaker. When he eventually slid their drinks towards them, his hand brushed hers and she felt that familiar warmth creep up her spine.

The two girls fell into easy conversation as Remus returned to his rounds behind the bar. They sipped their drinks, watching the bar buzz around them. Remus was a blur of motion, moving from one end of the bar to the other. Every time he passed by them, he didn’t fail to glance their way, flashing them a crooked smile that lingered on Y/N for a second longer.

Lily stretched, letting out a dramatic sigh as she glanced at the time, “Alright, guess I’d better be off,” she pouted as she drained the rest of her drink, “You’ll be okay, yeah?”

Y/N nodded, setting her own glass down, “Yeah, ‘course. Remus should be done soon anyway.”

Lily pulled her friend into a warm hug, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek, “Okay, then. I’ll call you tomorrow. Wish me luck!”

Y/N watched her friend disappear through the door and she turned back to her drink, tracing her finger along the condensation that had formed on the glass. Remus was busy down the other end of the bar, chatting with a pair of customers.

“Mind if I sit here?” A voice spoke out behind her.

Snapped back into reality, she turned around and met the eyes of the man behind her, “Oh, er, yeah sure.”

She assumed that he was just looking for an empty seat, probably waiting for someone himself. She smiled at him as he sat down and then turned back to face the bar.

“Your friend ditch you or something?”

“Huh?” she glanced at him sideways, “No, she had to meet someone.”

“My lucky night then, eh?” he grinned at her. He was a few years older than she was, dressed like he thought he was cooler than he was in an expensive looking jacket and shoes, “Wanted to come over and speak to you earlier but I didn’t want to intrude.”

“I’m with someone,” she nodded towards the bar.

He tilted his head looking unconvinced, “Doesn’t look like it.”

Y/N gave him a tight smile and looked away, hoping that would be enough but he didn’t relent. The man leaned in closer, casually, like she hadn’t just brushed him off.

“Aw, come on now,” he lowered his voice, “No need to be shy. I just thought you looked like you could use some company. Doesn’t seem right, leaving a lady sat all by herself.”

“I said I’m good.”

“Girls like you shouldn’t drink alone. Gives people the wrong idea.”

Y/N turned to face him fully now, “Let me give you the right idea then. Fuck off.”

The man laughed, like they were playing a game, “No need to be rude, I’m only being friendly.”

She rolled her eyes and turned back to the bar. For a moment, she considered moving but the bar was packed, and she wanted to be near Remus. Besides, why should she have to move just because some wanted to try it on her? She looked back to Remus, willing his shift to end.

The man was still talking – meaningless chatter about how the bar was busy and isn’t every bar crowded and loud nowadays? Unfortunately for him, Y/N had long since stopped listening, hoping that if she ignored him long enough he would eventually get the hint and leave. She kept her body angled away, trying to increase the distance between them.

Remus had been watching Y/N from the moment Lily had left. Not constantly, but just checking in every couple of minutes. It was a protective little habit that he had whenever she came to visit him at work.

He’d seen the man sit down, immediately clocking him and the way Y/N seemed to be handling it. He knew he would intervene if he needed to. But then he saw it. The sleight of hand as the man’s fingers brushed the rim of Y/N’s glass.

Remus was across the bar in seconds, fast and silent. The man didn’t even notice him until Remus’s hand shot out and grabbed his wrist mid-motion, slamming it down against the bar. The man jolted and so did Y/N.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He growled. The room seemed to quieten and several heads turned. The man tried to jerk his arm back but Remus gripped it tightly.

“I didn’t do anything!” The man scoffed, still trying to wrench his arm free. Remus used his spare hand to snatch the glass up.

“No? ‘Cause it looked like you just put something in her drink.” Remus thrust the glass towards him, “Drink it then, if it’s alright. Go on.”

Y/N was stunned into silence as she watched the altercation. Her mouth had gone dry when she realised what had happened.

The man opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find a way to weasel himself out of the situation.

What?” Remus pressed, “You’re that pathetic that you have to slip something into a girls drink just to be in with a chance of getting laid?”

“I didn’t do anything so why don’t you just fuck off?” The man spat.

Remus saw red and released his grip just long enough to grab the front of the man’s shirt and drag him towards him until their faces were inches apart, only the bar between them. His feet scrambled on the footrest of the barstool, trying to regain his balance.

“You don’t talk to me like that. Not in my bar.” Remus seethed, “You come in here and try to drug someone – my girlfriend, no less – and then try to lie your way out of it? You’re fucking lucky that I’m still speaking instead of beating the shit out of you.”

Remus gave him a sharp shove causing him to topple off the back of the stool and hit the ground with a thud. He stumbled to his feet, glaring at Remus.

“I’d fuck off if I were you. You don’t step foot in this place again and if you do... I’ll fucking bury you.” Remus sneered.

The man’s chest puffed like he was about to retort but any words he had died in his throat when he turned around to be greeted by two burly security guards. One of them grabbed his arm, the other gave him a rough push towards the exit. He didn’t argue, just muttered under his breath as they dragged him out.

“You okay?” Remus’s gaze softened as he turned to look at his girlfriend who was anxiously biting her lip.

“Yeah. I’m sorry – I should’ve moved away as soon as he came over-”

“Not your fault, sweetheart. Fucking creep.” he was around the bar in a second, wrapping his arm around her shoulders tightly, “Let’s get you home, eh?”

The flat was quiet when they stepped inside. It was soothing to Y/N’s pounding head from the noise of the bar. Remus locked the door behind them and turned the latch with more force than necessary. His jaw was still clenched but his touch was gentle on the small of her back as he guided her inside.

“Sit down,” he gestured to the sofa, “I’ll make you a brew.”

She nodded and curled up, wrapping the blanket tightly around her shoulders. It wasn’t until she was in the still and silence that it suddenly hit her how close it had been. How wrong it could have gone if Remus hadn’t noticed. By the time Remus came back, two mugs of tea in hand, she was glassy eyed.

“Here,” he said, “Tea makes everything better.”

She drank it slowly as she watched him. His hands rested on her knees, tracing small, steady circles like he was trying to ground her.

“I should have said something sooner,” she whispered, “I knew something felt off but I didn’t want to overact. What if you weren’t there and-”

“No. Don’t do that to yourself.” Remus shook his head immediately, pulling her closer to him until she was nestled under his arm, “You shouldn’t have to expect something like that to happened just because you’re sitting alone for five minutes.”

Y/N nodded, blinking fast trying to keep the stinging of tears in her eyes from spilling over. Her hand reached up and found the back of Remus’s head, running her fingers through his hair. He dipped his head down and kissed her softly.

“I’ll always look out for you.” he murmured against her lips, “you know that, yeah?”

Helpful links:

https://www.met.police.uk/advice/advice-and-information/spiking-advice/spiking/how-spiking-can-make-you-feel/

https://www.sandstonecare.com/blog/roofied/

Stay safe <3

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