#lily evans drabble

[moonstruckme]

Congratulations on 10k!!! For the slumber party can I request Lily Evans with “i couldn’t stop loving you. never, not even if i tried.” or “i would love to keep playing with your hair, but i think my hand’s starting to go numb.”? :))

Thank you <3

Lily Evans x fem!reader ♡ 592 words

Lily isn’t a person who shies away from touch. She hugs in greeting, she plays with your fingers while you talk, she’s quick with a kiss on your cheek or in between your brows or to your hand when the urge strikes her. It’s taken you some time to be able to return that amount of physical affection, but Lily’s been patient with you; she’s pleased when you do and still happy with you when you don’t. Now, though, you’ve made her so pleased you almost don’t know what to do with yourself. As it turns out, Lily loves having your fingers in her hair. 

You never knew you had the power to take all the steel out of her like this. Lily’s melted like ice cream on a summer day, all puddled up and sticky sweet on her mattress next to you. You came over to bring her some of the melon you cut up earlier for her to try, one of those weak excuses you contrive and she entertains because you’re both still a little too shy to call this what it is. As always, a quick hand-off had turned into an afternoon spent together, and somehow you’ve ended up on Lily’s bed, one hand laid flat over a pretty floral duvet and the other buried in her hair. 

“I can’t believe you haven’t seen it,” she murmurs, only a few inches between you. She’s laying with her head resting atop your forearm. Lily’s hair feels spun from the same fibers as flower petals, silky and pliable between your fingers. “It’s such a good film.” 

“I haven’t seen a lot of films.” 

Her lips twitch. “Right. But this is a classic. The scenery is lovely, and the soundtrack, there’s this bit where…” 

You listen, pulling your fingers through her hair and threading them back in. You haven’t been talking about anything important, you only want Lily to keep talking to you, so you let the conversation ebb and flow as her eyes droop and her voice softens. This close, you can count every freckle on her face, even the faintest ones. 

“Hey,” she hums, almost absently. You look at her questioningly, and a lovely blush spreads across her face. “Why did you stop?” 

“Oh. Sorry.” You’re unable to keep yourself from smiling, less than unhappy when Lily’s blush worsens. “I, um. Can’t.” 

Her brows sew together. “You can’t?”

“I would love to keep playing with your hair,” you tell her earnestly, “but I think my hand’s gone numb.” 

“Oh.” Lily sits up on her elbow. It frees your hand, though you’re sad to take it back, pulling it out from under her with red hair still trailing from your fingers. “Oh no, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” you say quietly, though you don’t stop her from threading her fingers through your dead ones, pulling them to her lips for a kiss. The tingling that spreads through your hand is probably unrelated. 

“You should have said something,” she chides, fond. 

“It’s really fine. I liked it. And I…I do have two hands, you know.” You raise your other, gently combing through the strands near her face. Lily wastes no time in deliquescing back into her pillow. “How’s that?” 

“That’s nice,” she whispers, green eyes softer than soft. “Only if you want to, though…” 

“I want to,” you say, perhaps a touch too sincerely. Lily’s face flushes again, and she’s not the only one. “Do you want to keep telling me about the film?” 

“Yeah,” she breathes it like a secret, “I do.” 

[talesof-old]

jily would take such good care of you do with that as you will!

okay so this turned really sexual, and at first i was gonna make it less so but…. anyway

pairing(s): poly!jily x reader

warning(s): 18+, smut, piv, fingering (f!receiving), implied oral sex (f!receiving), threesomes, not edited

word count: 489

masterlist

james and lily know how to take care of you

Time stands still with Lily and James.

Affectionately known as The Potters by their friends despite not even being engaged, Lily and James were a unit no one could shake. They complimented one another in a million ways. Both intelligent, both loyal, both forces to be reckoned with.

Unbeknownst to your mutual friend group, you’d been an addition to their relationship for months now. At first, it started out as purely innocent admiration, but had quickly deteriorated into soul consuming yearning. It didn’t take long for any of you to crack.

They had you sprawled out between them, your body prone in Lily’s lap, James naked between your thighs. Your walls fluttered around his cock. You marveled at his smooth skin, fingers trailing over the flexed muscles of his abdomen. He hissed as they dipped low, tracing the antler tattoos on his v-line. You grinned, only faltering as Lily’s hands reached around your body to cup your breasts. Her fingers pinched at the sensitive skin of your nipples.

You arched into her touch, soft gasps leaving your lips.

“That’s it, sweets, you’ve done so well.” You keened at his words, tensing as he slid out of you. Lily buried her head into the crook of your neck, scattering love bites along your collarbone and shoulders.

James dipped his index and middle finger into your still sensitive cunt, scooping up your mixed cum and offering it to Lily. She took it gladly, tongue swirling around hid fingers. You stared, mouth going dry as James’ eyes darkened and Lily sucked hard on his skin. He moaned at the sight; you weren’t sure you could blame him.

“Careful, love.” Her answering cheeky grin was enough to have James surging forward. He pressed his lips to hers, mindful to not squish you between them. Lily took him on gladly, using his distraction to slip her fingers down to your clit. You gasped.

James chuckled against her mouth. “You always have to one up me, don’t you?” She giggled. “Of course.”

You came quickly, body trembling as James moved to mouth at your breasts and Lily kept up her ministrations on your bundle of nerves. James nipped at your sensitive skin, savoring each and every one of your cries. “So perfect for us, sweets. Just look at you.” You mewled as Lily dipped her fingers into your cunt.

Her other hand came to grip James’ hair, guiding his mouth down your body towards your cunt. “Do me a favor and put your mouth to good use, yeah?” He lifted a brow and smirked. You reached out, gripping the hard flesh of his arms as he shifted down the bed.

“My mouth not good enough for you, Evans?”

She shrugged, jutting her chin towards your pubic region. Had it been anyone else, your body would’ve heated with embarrassment. Instead, you whined, practically writhing in her arms. James laughed.

“Think you’ve got another in you, sweets?”

+++

[crescenthistory]

Carina the woman-lover, would you please indulge us by arguing for prompt A17 "a steamed-up bathroom mirror" with Miss Lily Evans?

hello?? this is the only way i will be addressed from now on, thank you for that darling! i made this a shower door instead of a mirror, hope you don't mind:,)

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

i will ARGUE for prompt 17 "a steamed-up bathroom mirror" with lily evans

carina's 2k celebration

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

cw: gn!reader, use of y/n, non-sexual nudity, marriage, happily ever after domestic vibes, lily is shorter than you because my lily hc is that she is shorter than everyone

wc: 761

There was once a time where you were genuinely concerned that you might fall out of love with Lily Evans after graduation.

The voices around you had gotten in your head, explaining that Hogwarts romances were limited to the walls of the castle, that it was the intrigue of proximity, of different houses, of Hogsmeade getaways that kept you tied together. Lily was your best friend before you ever got the courage to ask her out, and the thought of losing that made you lose sleep more than once. The amount of nights you had spent in the Astronomy Tower was, pardon the pun, astronomical – but at least it got you a new friend in the elusive Regulus Black who also frequented the tower at night. 

Despite nothing in your relationship suggesting trouble on the horizon, you were biting the skin off your nail beds in your final weeks at Hogwarts. What you had was so beautiful, so it must surely be fragile too, right?

Now you were brushing your teeth in your shared bathroom with Lily in the shower, laughing at the thought of it.

Your love was no less fragile than the walls of the flat you rented together after Hogwarts, the same one you were still happily living in years after. Lily had a full time position as a potionologist through the Ministry, developing methods of introducing lifesaving healing magic to muggle children without breaking the Statute of Secrecy. She was every bit the powerhouse of a woman you knew her to be when you fell in love. You thrived in your own dream occupation with Lily cheering you on as equal parts best friend and partner. 

Just outside your bathroom you had the Floo Network set up in your fireplace that connected to the flat Mary, Marlene and Dorcas shared, Remus and Sirius’ home and Potter Manor where James now lived with Regulus.

Oddly enough, your little family never was torn apart. After all the tragedies and pains, it became such a beautiful life.

You spit out the toothpaste in the sink one final time before rinsing your toothbrush and looking up in the mirror. Only then did you realise you were smiling, which in turn made you smile harder.

You heard a squeaking sound over your shoulder and turned around to see Lily wiping away some of the fog on the shower glass door to catch a glimpse of you. Her hands were in her hair, white shampoo coursing through red hair. 

“What are we smiling about? Have you had your coffee already?” She called loudly over the water, teasing laughter following her words.

You stuck your tongue out at her as you leaned back against the counter to work on your own hair. “Can’t I just be content, Evans?”

She hummed as if she was considering it. “Not for as long as you call me by the wrong name.”

Your grin hurt your cheeks. “My apologies, Lily Evans-L/N, it will never happen again.”

The glass was already almost entirely fogged up again, Lily becoming a distorted figure through the haze, but you caught her smile and heard her laugh over the thundering water. You could just barely see the splatter of freckles across her milky back, your fingers aching to stay home and count them all day.

You took a moment to look at her, to breathe in the smell of your hair products mixing with her body wash in the humid air, the makings of a home.

The squeaking sound came once more as Lily’s pointer finger came up to draw a rather large heart near the top of the shower door. Within it, she drew her and your initials on each side of a plus sign. Beneath it, she wrote your wedding date. You could find the remnants of that heart after each shower she took, a well-ingrained ritual.

It was a beautiful, domestic sight – just like the woman enjoying her morning while rubbing her love in your face.

“That’s it,” you murmured under your breath before walking over and cracking the shower door open.

Lily shrieked a laugh as you opened it, pretending to hide away behind the stream of water from the shower head. Luckily, you had yet to get properly dressed and didn’t care if your bathrobe got wet as you reached out for her cheek. You had finished fixing your face for the day, but you didn’t mind messing it up one bit as you brought her in across the water stream for a sweet and searing kiss.

Her lips moulded perfectly against yours, not any less than they did at Hogwarts – perhaps even more so.

Lily hummed against your lips, smile widening beneath your affection. “I love you,” she whispered, careful to place her hands on the shower door for leverage and not on you. 

You looked down at her with nothing short of a lovestruck expression. “And I love you, you little minx.” 

Another kiss, as loving as it was wet. 

You couldn’t really ask for a better way to start your day.

[yrluvjane]

Ya'll have to hit me with requests rn! I'M ON TOO MUCH SUGAR, I'M SLEEP DEPRIVED AND I HAVE HEADPHONES BLASTING AND THERE ON LESS THAN 10%

SORRY FOR THE SPAM TAG

[msmk11]

Rounds

Lily Evans x Slytherin!reader

WC: 1k

CW: fluff; house rivalries

Summary: you get assigned prefect rounds with your rival- Lily Evans.

Day 25 of mk’s mad dash

“Right, now that we’ve reviewed the rules and new policies, we’ll pass out the rounds assignments for the first term,” Amos Diggory, the new head boy, announced.

Amelia Bones, the new head girl, nodded in agreement, “And because Dumbledore wants us to encourage more interhouse interactions, we’ve decided to partner all of you with someone from a different house.”

You groaned internally. For all the other houses, partnering with each other was not a problem. But as a Slytherin, no one but your own kind wanted to work with you. The green tie and snake status guaranteed you isolation- one that you’d all rather come to enjoy.

Regulus, who was your rounds partner all of last year, glanced at you with a shared look of dismay.

Diggory passed around the rounds assignments and you accepted it with a less than welcoming stare.

You just prayed you weren’t paired with one of Gryffindor’s most obnoxious- Remus Lupin.

It seemed the two prefects were kind enough to not do you that disservice, but not much more than that. Because while you weren’t paired with Lupin, you were still paired with an utterly insufferable Gryffindor.

Lily Evans.

AKA your academic rival.

Aside from Snape, Evans was your biggest competition for the honored title of first in your class. She was a frustrating, kiss ass, know-it-all whose mere presence made your blood boil.

The worst part? She was perfectly fucking nice to you.

It was maddening, not being able to get under her skin at all. It confused you too. You’d witnessed Evans’ temper many times over things much less severe than the attitude with which you treated her.

It made no sense and you had no answers. It only maddened you more.

You let out a quiet huff and turned to Regulus, “I’ve been stuck with fucking Evans.”

Regulus cringed but shrugged his shoulders, “could be worse. I got stuck with Skeeter.”

You outwardly grimaced and shot the obnoxious blonde a rather withering glare, “good fucking luck. Best keep your mouth shut too or all your fucking secrets will be spilled.”

The Black heir scoffed, “I was probably put with her because I don’t talk. Less trouble for Bones and Diggory if someone’s around to control her.”

You hummed in agreement but were stopped short of any response when the subject of your personal dismay approached.

The fiery redhead stood before you with a kind smile that made your stomach turn.

“Evans,” you declared tersely.

“Hi,” she chirped sweetly. She turned to Regulus with a polite nod, “Black.”

“What do you need, Evans?” You sighed.

“Well, as you know, we’re rounds partners, and well, uh, Bones and Diggory have assigned us to first watch.”

You slumped down into your seat and cursed, “Oh bloody fucking hell.”

Regulus snickered at you and it took everything in you not to smack him.

“Rightttt. Well, let’s get to it then. I guess.”

You motioned for Lily to lead the way, falling into step behind her, albeit with less enthusiasm.

After the final few prefects had made their ways back to their houses, the halls grew quiet except for the quiet chatter of a few portraits. You hoped Lily would guarantee you this peace for the whole time, but your hopes weren’t high.

“So did your first day of classes go well?” The redhead asked with interest. Interest you were certain she was feigning to maintain her good-girl act.

“Fine. The same. Except I don’t have to deal with half of my idiot classmates anymore.”

Now that you were in your sixth year, the O.W.L.S. had filtered out many of your classmates who hadn’t had the skills or brain cells to do well in the subjects you prided yourself on. It was a relief, being rid of the potential that you’d be partnered with an idiot. But, like anything, there were downsides too. One being you had nearly every class with Evans now.

“I’m not sure why you ask Evans, seeing as you’re in almost all my classes.”

Instead of being ruffled by your bluntness, she only shrugged, “just being polite. Anyhow, people can do the same thing and come out with different experiences.”

“Don’t I know it,” you grumbled. You thought of all the ways your Hogwarts experience had differed from others simply because of your house status.

Lily was silent for a moment.

“Is there a reason you hate me so much?”

You barely withheld your scoff and tried to maintain your cool, “cause you’re a Gryffindor or whatever.”

She shook her head adamantly at you, “no, that’s not it. You have some personal vendetta against me. Why?”

You looked at her disbelievingly, “don’t play coy with me Evans.”

“I’m not! I genuinely don’t know what I’ve done.”

Rather abruptly you stopped in your tracks and fully turned towards her, “we’re rivals, Evans. And not just because of our houses, but because of school. You’re my… academic rival.”

Her eyebrows furrowed into a mixture of concern and… amusement?

“Rivals? What are we… 12?”

“We’re people who’ve been pitted against each other from the beginning. Pretty sure that makes us rivals,” you spat defensively.

“I think you pitted yourself against me,” Evans corrected.

The look you gave her must say enough, because her face softened a little.

“I’ve never seen you as rival. I’ve actually only ever admired you. For your intelligence, sure, but also for how protective you are of your friends, how you look after the more picked on Slytherins, and how you put your all into everything you do.”

The redhead gazed at you intently- so intently that you felt heat burning in your cheeks.

“But I’ve only ever been mean to you,” you responded warily, “how did… how do you still think of me so positively?”

She shrugged her shoulders and started to walk again, “I just figured it was a defense mechanism. A way to protect yourself. I don’t think you’re truly a mean person.”

“And how do I know you aren’t just saying all this to trick me into trusting you so that you can beat me for first in the class?”

Evans deadpanned to you, “you know our workload. I don’t have the time to come up with such a conceited plan.”

You let out a laugh. An actual laugh, and Lily’s face contorted into a beaming smile.

“Touché.”

You paused thoughtfully.

“I’m still not letting you have first spot, Evans.”

She smiled at you warmly, “I plan on it.”

[neverthatsirius-jo]

[ 📦 ; day four ] FAIR ENOUGH

summary — in which helping lily organize your university's christmas fair puts an end to your pining of years.

content — lily evans x gn!reader, fluff, lily is mean to reader for like a second :(

word count — ~600

a/n — day four of the advent calendar but posting on day seven cause i've been busy :p pretty sure it's gn!reader but let me know if i missed anything.

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

“Done, done, and done,” Lily says, checking off items of a list on her pink notepad. “We just need to pick up the pies really.”

Fuck.

When Lily had started asking around campus for people to help organize and put together the Christmas fair, you had jumped at the opportunity to be close to her. Instead of that you had been running errands all week and had barely catched a glimpse of her.

Still, you’d put all your effort in making sure you completed each task she gave you perfectly. Confirm with the vendors, go behind all the students that had something planned for the fair and make sure all was up to Lily’s standards, and other stuff you could not remember now that she was standing in front of you, her hair silky and perfect and lovely as always. 

You check the little piece of paper you’d saved on the back of your phone where you’d scribbled down the last few tasks she had given you the day before. 

‘ORDER THE PUMPKIN PIES!!!’

Oh.

You had an excuse for why you hadn’t, in fact, ordered the pumpkin pies. Not a good one, and not one you could use with her anyway. 

‘Sorry, Lily. See, yesterday when you asked if I had ordered the pies and I said yes, it was just because I wanted to impress you that I had finished all the tasks so fast and then you smiled and asked if I wanted to go for coffee and pastries to celebrate and I said yes, thinking I would get to order the pies later but I am so in love with you that my brain has lost ninety percent of its functionality and I forgot.’

You’re not gonna say that of course.

You don’t need to. She sees through you right away.

“Oh, bloody hell.” She throws up her arms, holding her clipboard. 

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry, everyone’s sorry…” She gets her cell phone from her pocket and starts typing something frantically. “Sirius is sorry about the cupcakes and Peter is sorry about the biscuits but that is not gonna help our stand on the fair, is it? If you want something done right, do it yourself, I suppose.”

“Okay, rude.” Your face is one big frown now, unable to conceal the hurt her words provoked.

“Alright, I’m sorry but you told me you had ordered the bloody pies!” She doesn’t take her eyes off the screen.

“Well, I lied.”

“Why?” She finally raises her head and shakes it exasperatedly.

“Because I wanted you to think greatly of me.”

“I do think greatly of you.” She runs a hand through her forehead, calming herself down. “You’ve helped me all week. More than anyone, actually,” She recognizes.

“I wanted you to think greaterly of me, Lily.” You stop yourself to lick your lips, a nervous tick, before you continue, feeling like the words are being ripped away from you. “I always do.” Your voice sounds as raw as if they had.

You can almost see the gears turning on her head, the dissecting of your words in her eyes, like she’s trying to figure out if you are saying what you are actually saying.

You brace yourself and look down at the floor after the first few seconds of haunting silence, preparing for the worst.

“Lily, say something.”

You’re positive that any word coming out of her mouth will put you out of your misery, even if they are to tell you off; but the way she cups your face and unites your lips into the softest kiss you’ve ever been given is good enough for you too.

thank you for reading, reblogs and replies are always appreciated <3

back to advent calendar

[mischievousmoony]

𝚕𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚎𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

main masterlist ✮ author's favorites ❀ fluff – ‪‪‬❤︎ angst – ⏾ hurt/comfort

series

⟢ good luck, babe! (to be continued) ✮❀❤︎ lily evans is haunted by memories from years ago before she started dating james potter and before you left her life. amid feelings of guilt, regret, and a shocking discovery, she finds herself on your doorstep

one shots & blurbs

nothing here yet...

[howlyourmelancholy]

No Sugar Tonight

summary: in which she tells you no.

warnings: brief mention of james, but he's not a main player. lily is soft!dom here, and maybe a little mean. fingering. oral; (reader receiving). orgasm deniel.

words: 409.

notes: i'll never say no to flower-petal love, especially with lily. james makes a brief appearance because why not. hope you enjoy loves.

Her touch was gentler but no less effective. Lily Evans was a siren, blessed with poetic beauty and ethereal femininity. Everything she did was for a purpose, done with careful consideration and forethought, and tonight it was all done to drive you insane.

She'd let you come only once as she kitten-licked your wet folds, the tip of her tongue flicking gently against your clit—a slow, steady rhythm that lured you to the brink of orgasm. The girl was soft compared to James, who was sitting in the corner, palming his cock through his boxers while you arched of the bed, cumming with a soft cry as his girl pushed two fingers into you.

"Fuck—please. Please, Lily, please, please." Her fingers were brushing over a blissful spot inside your gummy walls, and you couldn't help but moan prettily as she touched you. You felt her lips move against your clit, pulling into a soft smile as she ran the flat of her tongue from your hole to your throbbing nub. When she finally lifted her head, red hair tickling the inside of your thighs, her chin was shiny—a sinful mixture of slick and spit that had you clenching around her fingers.

"Please? Please what? You have to use your words." She cooed gently. You knew that she didn't mean to sound condescending, or maybe she did; you weren’t sure any more. It was emotional whiplash. Normally, Lily was this perfectly polite, sweet woman who wouldn't dream of hurting anyone (except perhaps James when they'd first met).

But right now, she embodied the perfect soft-domme persona. She was controlling you and your pleasure, keeping you laid on the bed of fresh linens and a dozen pillows. The smell of vanilla candles burned faintly. James's soft groans became background noise as she played you like a violin. Each stroke of her fingers was precise, pushing you closer to the edge. She knew your body and knew that when the dam broke, there would be no stopping it.

“Please,” you begged, breath escaping in gasps as she pressed her thumb against your clit, drawing small, slow circles around it. "I'm gonna cum, Lils. Please, please, can I? Can't hold it any more. M'gonna cum, please, fuck, please."

Feeling your walls starting to quiver around her fingers, she slowed her pace, the wet squelching of your impending orgasm echoing around the room in time with James' groans. When your legs started to shake and your back was bowing into a pretty arch, she pulled them from you and brought them to her lips to lick clean.

“Oh no, you can't cum, baby. But thank you for asking.” Even though her words are cruel, they sounded so sweet—sweet enough to make angels cry.

[foodiegoogie]

lily evans masterlist

✬ — angst | ❀ — fluff | !!! — author’s favorite

ONESHOTS

no one else, only you ❀ !!!

DRABBLES/BLURBS

...

HEADCANNONS

...

[sunnami]

the 5 times you did (not) love each other and the 1 time you did.

summary. as the title suggests. this one was a request! i hope you enjoyed my version of this anon.

pairing/s. poly!marauders + lily / reader.

wc. 4.1k

tags. hurt/comfort, angst, peter pettigrew mention, not proofread, like seriously, fluff, happy ending.

cws: brief mention of violence and blood.

note: i am alive?? crazy. i began this fic, whilst sick, around august, nursing the worst headache ever. i wrote the middle of this fic, sick. and i think it's only fitting that i finished this fic. sick... honestly, i did not proofread any of this, i just know i lowkey love it. after the first one-thousand words, i just spiral and become delirious, so i don't even know what happened here. my first request finished! yippee! and thank you all for 2k :< i love you all so much.

i. 

SIRIUS BLACK did not love you—not even close, not even a little bit. Not even at all.

After Peter Pettigrew’s slight against his family, Sirius would never hold warmth or pity for the skittish mouse ever again. He was played for a fool. And, he did not know which betrayal had hurt more. Peter’s—or yours. (Had you known all along of your adoptive brother’s plans? Did you not think for one second that Sirius would, without a sliver of hesitation, put himself in the way of a killing curse to keep you safe? He’d have died before ever letting the fire in your eyes wither to ashes. Clearly, you did not share the same sentiment.) 

He wanted nothing to do with you. Ever. And if the rat-bastard dared to show his face, not even Death would know where to put Peter’s body to rest. Sirius would keep him alive until he begged for death—until the idea of living frightened him more than dying. And for you—beholder of his heart, captor of his soul, and co-possessor of his mind—he could only hope that you stayed far away. You had wrecked him—all of them. 

He wanted—

He did not know what he wanted. 

For when it came to you, Sirius Black was reduced to a man wandering the deserts—mistaking clouds for water, and the sands for grass blades. You had ravaged every fiber of his being; consumed his every thought and word. The most ironic part of all was that if you had been the one standing there—Sirius would have let you Avada him. Dumbledore could scold him in the afterlife—Sirius could care less. He’d have snapped his wand in half and asked someone else to fight you because Sirius had vowed from the moment he met you that he would never harm a hair on your head. He would never be the reason that tears stained your pretty cheeks. 

Well, apparently, trust and promises were not worth a damn thing nowadays. 

No, he did not love you—even as you stood on the steps of Grimmauld, your hair ruined by the downpour of rain. Your lips bruised and bitten from a nervous habit Sirius had yet to break out of you. 

“I didn’t know, Sirius,” you whispered—your voice the only sound falling on his ears amidst all the thunder and lightning. He only saw you. “Y-You have to believe me. If I knew—Gods, I would have told Dumbledore in a heartbeat. Fuck. I thought you knew me better than that.” 

He thought so, too. 

“Did you know?” Sirius began, taking a step forward and into the storm, a demeaning sneer on his lips. “That when Voldemort stood in our home, your portrait was right behind him? That was all I could look at. If I had died—you would have been the last thing I saw.” 

You had not replied. 

Sirius grit his teeth. “Go,” he said, voice hoarse. 

“Go!” he yelled, grateful for the rain as it masked his own tears as you flinched from the sound of his voice. Not the thunderclap, the lightning strike—but it was him who scared you. 

(But you had done so first.) 

When you apparated away, Sirius crumbled to the ground and pounded his fists against the asphalts where you were moments ago, screaming and cursing until he saw blood flowing with the rainwater.

It was laughable, really. The way he did not love you. 

It was not love that drove him to madness, pummeling Gideon Prewett into a bloody pulp for mentioning your name during a meeting with the Order. He had presumed you to be a Death Eater alongside your brother—Sirius instantly saw nothing but red. (He condemned Bellatrix, his own cousin, for becoming a madwoman. Yet, here he was, unraveled by the very thought of you. The very whisper of your name.) 

But whatever it was that had turned him into a fool and a hypocrite all at once, it was not love. 

ii. 

JAMES POTTER had no love for you—make no mistake about that. He loved love, and he did so fiercely and truthfully. But you and Peter had broken his trust—defiled his loyalty from the moment your brother had brought Voldemort to his doorstep. (Did you know that as he begged and screamed for Lily to hide with their son, Harry—he thought of you? For a fleeting moment, he saw your face, marked by fear and tear-rimmed eyes. And James knew straight away that he would spit on Tom Riddle’s bare feet if only to keep his family safe. If only to see you once more. Alive and well. But, you must not have thought the same—if you had conspired with Peter to sell him and Lily out to the Devil reborn.) 

The thought of you breathing was enough to keep James alive. 

But, that was not love. It was a mockery of it. 

No, he did not feel so much as a twinge of emotion for you. Not even as Mad-Eye Moody brought your limp body back to Grimmauld. It was not love that threatened the magic in his being—that simmered in his blood until the painted walls saw an indent of his fist. (“Poor thing,” McGonagall cooed as she pressed her palm over your forehead. Despite some of the members’ growing distrust for you, you still took an Unforgivable in their stead. “We can only wait. . . Four Cruciatus curses. . .”) 

What more did James need to want to rip Peter apart limb by limb? 

It was not love that rooted his feet by your side. Sitting hunched on a chair too small for his height, bags beneath his eyes, and the pale of his lips becoming noticeable to everyone who spoke to him. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to you lovelessly—hands desperately clutching your own. Sirius stood across the room, arms crossed over his chest, dagger-like eyes waiting for so much as a twitch of your finger. “I’m sorry.”

It was a plea this time.

He only hoped you did not ask him to love you. For James could give you the world, hand-pick the stars, and burrow his body deep beneath the ground if you had asked for it—but he could not love you. 

Everyone had told him not to hope that you would wake up. That your pretty eyes would not flutter open, and you would no longer look at him as you had before. But James was stubborn. He was selfish as he was stubborn. He did not love you—but he needed to hear the sound of your voice. And James would take it any way that he could. The soft cadence of a whisper, or a rough utterance of a single word. Molly Weasley told him to accept reality for what it was. (“You need sleep, dear,” the matriarch fussed. “There’s nothing we can do. Look at the Longbottoms. . . We can do no more for this one as we had done for them.”) 

In the still of the night, he left his reveries on the cold of your skin. “Wake up,” he demanded. 

“Wake up or else you’re the traitor everyone thinks you are,” James hissed. 

But his words held no heat—and his heart held no love for you. 

Make no mistake about that.

Then, when you finally woke up, disoriented and throat parched—a hazy recollection of the weeks before—James made sure that no more than four people could enter the room. He did not care if a hurricane, or if Voldemort himself—James had faced him once already, after all—threatened to break the door down. You were theirs to protect.

 (But not to love.) 

“We need to begin the questioning, James, you know that,” said Kingsley Shacklebolt, almost exasperatedly; weary lines written across his face. James would not allow even a toe beyond the doorway. An interrogation meant you had something to do with the attempted murder of James and his family. Whether or not you were innocent, James did not care—he just wanted you safe. 

(And a small part of him already knew that you were not your brother’s keeper. Just as they had absolved Sirius of his family’s sins. It would be unfair to not show you the same grace. But before his mind knew that, James’s heart and soul had known the truth all along.) 

He found Sirius gently tending to your every need, and already James knew that was Padfoot’s way of begging for forgiveness. The ebony-haired man hung onto your every word. He winced when you flinched, and pressed his apologies to your forehead, rasping for a kindness he did not deserve. Not after what he did. How he turned you away and cursed your name. How they betrayed you. 

James did not love you. 

But what else could he call the manacles that bound his hands and forced him to his knees when it came to you? 

Not. Love. 

iii. 

REMUS LUPIN could not bring himself to love you. But, he could not love Sirius, Lily, and James either. He was undeserving of such a privilege. But he was not allowed to love you; Remus could only hope that you saw even a shred of worth in him—to wrest each word from his lips and every breath from his lungs. But, he did not love you. No. 

Because loving you meant he was to tell you of your brother’s crimes. And Remus could not hurt you like that. 

“P-Peter?” you had asked, wearing the eyes of a fretful sibling. Remus lifted his hand to tuck a strand of hair gone astray behind your ear. Bellatrix had done a number on you—just as she had done to Alice and Frank. Remus was fairly certain that Sirius was off on a hunt for his cousin, his mind toyed with by the barbarity of war. What they could not do for the Longbottoms, they’d wring themselves dry to do for you. After the Lestranges’ attack, you suffered damage to your throat and memories. Remus could not bear to see you in such pain. 

He could not give you love, but Remus would offer up to you his every limb, and the weary skin upon his bones. 

“They. . .” Remus grimaced. How could he act as the bearer of bad news? He’d rather dive headfirst into shark-infested waters. Be anywhere else but here. In fact, Remus would rather snatch you away from the funereal walls, and hold you in his arms in the quietude of dawn, than be the one to bring anguish to your eyes. “They’re looking for him at the moment, love.” 

One question lingered in your eyes: Why? 

Luckily, Sirius was always the better one at sharpening a blunt knife. “He was a traitor,” he spat like acid. “A traitor to the Order. A traitor to us. He’s no friend of ours. Not anymore.” 

But Sirius knew—better than anyone else—how difficult it can be to truly hate little brothers, especially once they’ve gone. 

“No. . .” You trembled, almost retching as you sobbed into your palms. 

Remus held you then, the front of his shirt soaked in your tears, eyes firmly shut as you trembled and heaved in his arms. The sound of your guttural screams bounced off the four walls, and Remus had to bury his nose in your hair. You were alive. Safe. Breathing. But you felt cold as ice; an empty husk stripped bare for grief to take over. And Remus could do nothing but hold you. (He just hoped that wherever Peter Pettigrew was, Remus would not be the first one to find him. Otherwise, they would not be able to recover even a fingernail from his remains.)

“Hush, love,” Remus whispered into your ear as you cried yourself sick. Mourning the loss of your brother, reeling from the betrayal of a bond that was supposed to be stronger than blood. Remus would make him pay, he vowed as much to you. No, Remus and the wolf in him did not know how to love. But he knew how to hurt. And, that, he’d gladly do for you. His body was for you to use as a shield, his soul for you to strip bare, and his heart for you to thieve and never return. 

“Don’t cry,” said James, a shadow cast over his frames. “Not for Peter. Never. Fucking bastard will get what’s coming to him.” He laid on the vacant space of the bed, gently untangling your hands that were pressed over your heart. “I’ll make sure of it.”

They all would.

But not because they loved you. 

It was not out of love, Remus had to remind himself in the coming days, when he stayed diligently by your side as you recovered. Daily sessions with the best healer St. Mungo’s could offer—as if James would allow anything else. There were days your eyes would glaze over, your words rough and sluggish, and Remus would try his damndest to make you smile. 

It was the least he could do. 

For failing to protect you. 

But that was not love. 

(It was hope. Wretched, disastrous hope as he fell to his knees, and your name in between his teeth.)

iv. 

LILY EVANS was a fighter in all the ways that mattered. 

And from the very first moment she held Harry in her arms, eyes raking over his wrinkly, bloodied skin; all ten fingers and toes, her soft cries over his loud screaming—Lily knew she would trade her life for his in a heartbeat. Little, lovely eyes that would soon see the world in his own time. Lily adored him. Cherished every tear, snore, and giggle. She knew then, that a mother’s love was entirely different from any emotion she’d ever felt before. 

This was proven the first time Harry had gotten seriously ill. A few weeks after the attempted murder on the Potters, Harry was ceaselessly crying—screaming, even, every night—red-faced as he fussed every breakfast and dinner. Lily found herself at wit’s end. Her protectiveness had gone up a hundred measures; wouldn’t let anyone besides family or Madam Pomfrey see Harry. Yet, even with all the draughts and silly-flavoured syrups, Harry wasn’t getting better. 

“Lily dear, you cannot actually be thinking about this,” worried Molly Weasley as Lily stood in front of your door, holed away in the room where you had been recovering for the last few days. It would be the first time she saw you since the incident. More than anything she was afraid. Frightened that you would look at her differently. Whether or not that fear stemmed from love, Lily was not concerned. “We can call for another Healer from Mungo’s to have a look at Harry. . . Who knows what might. . .” 

Lily held Harry closer to her, lips firmly pressed, attempting to ignore the way his temperature was unnaturally high. “Might what, Mrs. Weasley?” She knew Molly was only talking out of concern, from a mother’s perspective at least. But she knew you better than anyone else. You would never hurt her, or Harry, that much she was certain of. And if you were the traitor everyone else was afraid of accusing you of, a sentence delivered by association to Peter—then let the guillotine fall, Lily would carry your crimes for you. 

She remembered ever-so clearly in her sixth-year, you with dreams glistening in your eyes. (“I’m going to be a Healer, Lils! Minnie said I’d be a great one. . . I want to protect those I love. . . I know I can do it. . . Oh, I can’t wait to tell Peter that I’ve gotten recommendations already to work at Mungo’s after graduation.”) 

And Lily recalled at that moment, she had felt a different kind of emotion that she had never experienced before. It was not love, of course. Tuney said she was too young and too stupid to know what real love was. But, at sixteen, what else could describe the way her heart fluttered and the way her lips threatened to break out into a smile whenever you lit up talking about your future? (It was just a crush, young Lily told herself.)

Only to be crushed and cast aside in the face of the war, where fighters took their place at the forefront of the lines, mothers and children hid; healers stretching themselves thin to be here, there, everywhere; where traitors walked in plain sight. 

“There is no one else I trust more with my life,” replied Lily. 

And that was that. 

Lily skirted around Molly and opened the door to your room, where Sirius, James, and Remus all stood at attention at the sight of her and Harry. She ignored them, and headed straight to your side. 

“Hello, love,” she greeted with all the gentleness she was made of, a smile creeping up to her eyes as Lily watched you turn your head at the sound of her voice. Truth be told, she did not know what her end-goal was in coming here. But being by your side had always made life a little more bearable, like all the illnesses in the world could not bring her down. And so, her magic had instinctively summoned her person to you. She, at least, was relieved to see colour returning to your cheeks, though the red in your eyes had dulled the hues she adored so much. 

“Is that. . .?” you croaked. 

Lily nodded. “Harry, meet—” 

One of the loves of my life, the most loyal and pure witch anyone ever has the privilege of meeting, someone I want to stay in my life forever. 

Lily’s smile wilted. “A friend.” 

Later, she would place Harry in your arms—her little hope embraced by her dream—and Lily would wonder if it was by pure magic that Harry calmed in your presence. 

For if love could hurt and destroy, could it mend and heal the broken as well?

But what a shame, for not one in that room carried an ounce of love for you.

(She would die for Harry, yes—but she would live for you.)

v. 

YOU did not love them, either. 

The very idea, thought—insinuation—was absurd. (Why, they deserved much better than you, after all.) With hands that failed to protect them, were you even allowed to hold them anymore? Did your heart have the right to breathe for them? You had failed as a sister and a friend—how much more would you have failed as their lover? Well, you’d never know. 

Because you did not love them. 

Merely wished them happiness and for the world to extend them kindness. For the sun to look brightly down on them, and for time to heal their scars and wounds. For if they were in pain, the earth would stop spinning. But such a request was not borne from love. 

Surely not. 

Because, then, that would have meant that it was love that teared you apart when Sirius cursed your name, when James turned you away, when Remus could not look you in the eyes, or when Lily—for all your history together—called you a friend. 

The whole of you was made by the parts of them. Each memory welded into the crevices of your soul. From the moment you had all found each other in the same train compartment, same common room—there was a shift in the fates that bound all five of you together. (The ties were red, but the thread was not of love.) You did not believe in Professor Trelawney’s talks of providence and destiny. 

Because if you did, then why was the universe so cruel? 

Falling—not in love—for four people who could very much do without you in their lives. Lacking severely as a sister to the point you had not noticed your brother fading and fading away into the shadows. 

Was love that unkind? That merciless? 

Then, you did not want to love at all. 

Oh, but magic or not, every creature on this earth selfish. 

You were no different. 

You wanted. 

Oh, how you yearned. 

“I LOVE YOU.” 

You barely had enough time to react before Sirius pressed his lips to the side of your head, arm covertly sneaking around your waist. The sound of the train whistling as parents yelled their goodbyes filled the station. You stood in the midst of the crowd, eyes never leaving one window in particular as you waved at Harry, now eleven-years-old and now off to Hogwarts. 

“Quite a random thing to say, husband,” you murmured, leaning into his warmth. “What for?” 

“Just because,” he replied in turn with a fiendish grin. “Well, perhaps for choosing us, for choosing me despite all my fuck-ups. For existing. For being the beautiful, wonderful, kind, precious you. I could keep on going, my darling. Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” 

You wrinkled your nose, eyes rolling from fondness. “I love you too, quite unfortunately.” 

He only laughed and pulled you closer to him. “Let’s go home.” 

–

“I love you.” 

In the house built by new memories, warded by stronger protection charms, and filled with warmth and love—James said this to you each morning before he left for the Ministry, promoted after the war as Head of Magical Law Enforcement. Not one foot out of the door until he had showered you in kisses and the symphonies of his heart. James had always been loud, even in his time at Hogwarts. The war had not taken this part of him, and you figured James was too loud to let it be taken from him. He was unapologetically and unabashedly him. 

And you had loved him fiercely for that. 

“I’ll be home early tonight,” he said, a quiet intimacy washing over the both of you. The early birds of the cottage. “Wait for me?”

“Of course,” you answered without an ounce of hesitation, delicately chasing after his lips. “I love you. Be safe.” 

-

“I love you.” 

“Are you saying that to me or are you reading from the book?” you teased from where you laid on Remus’s chest, hours after James left for work, the afternoon bringing you two together in the living room. Lily was in the gardens, and Sirius was in the shed working on his motorbike. It was perfect. You felt the rise and fall of Remus’s chest beneath you, his heartbeat close to your ear. He was perfect. It was a miracle you had not fallen asleep to the tender lull of his voice. 

“Both,” he responded, hand coming up to trace the bare of your skin—a miracle you did not crumble or burn instantly from his touch. 

You hummed. “Then, I love you, too.” Then, you grinned, lifting your head to stare up at him. “You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you.” 

And, oh, how photographs could not capture the beauty in Remus’s smile as his eyes regarded you with such fire.

“My heart, my light, my desire,” Remus began, one finger ever-so softly tracing the curve of your cheek. “In vain I have struggled, it will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.” 

–

“I love you.” 

Said Lily as she lied in your shared bed, red-nosed and her cheeks pale, sluggish. The Christmas holiday was generous enough to gift her with an unfortunate cold that had been going around the wizarding world. “But, please, go,” she commanded weakly, gesturing for you to join Harry who was stood by the door. “It’s a lovely day outside for making snowmen with carrots as noses and snow angels. Not for taking care of poor old me.” 

You rolled your eyes as you sat by her side, swiftly pressing a kiss to her forehead. “And I love you, which is why I would rather much be here, taking care of the prettiest snow angel to ever exist,” you countered, bringing a spoonful of broth to her lips. “Besides, Harry here has something to tell you. He’s made friends at school. One of them is Molly’s little one.” 

“Oh, you did?” Lily cooed, before sniffling weakly. “That’s lovely, darling. Tell me all about them.” 

“That’s not all, Lily mine,” you began mischievously as Harry’s eyes narrowed at you through his glasses. “This friendship apparently formed after fighting a troll.” 

“You what?” Lily croaked, emerald eyes shimmering with concern and near-dread. 

“Did you really, Harry?” James popped his head in the doorway, clapping his son on the shoulder before ushering him inside the room. A spitting image side-by-side as they took the empty space by the foot of the bed. “Good boy. Father approves.” 

“Of course you would,” Lily shot at him weakly, melting when Sirius then entered the room and greeted her with a kiss to her cheek. “And where are you all coming from?”

“Outside,” announced Remus, tugging his tie from his neck. “Sirius and I took a quick trip to Diagon Alley to get some things that’ll make you feel better, Lily love.” 

And as the snow fell outside, lazy winds against the window, your little family gathered in one room, there was one thing you knew for certain.

You loved them. 

And they loved you. 

a/n: i wrote all 4k words while sick. crazy. but anyway, i wanted to believe in love again so here i am. thank you all so much for being patient with me. i promise to do even better in the next fics!

[moonstruckme]

face masks - send me a character + an au for a drabble

I'd LOVE to see your take on a college AU - maybe a meet cute? - with Lily?? no pressure at all, I just love your style and scenery so it feels like a cozy prompt! congratulations on 10k - I'm NOT surprised at all!

Thank you so much angel <3

cw: non magical uni au, written with the 70s in mind except there's no homophobia

Lily Evans x fem!reader ♡ 526 words

The pretty redhead who sits in front of you is wilting over her desk. Her cheek lays atop her notebook, uncapped pen still in hand and eyes closed. It’s the day of your exam review, but you don’t blame her for falling asleep when she did. Conjugating in the pluperfect is dreadfully boring. 

She doesn’t wake until class is dismissed and the students around her stand, all in a hurry to get to their next class or to the library to study or outside to enjoy the sunny day. She sits up with smudged ink on her cheek (adorable) and a dazed look that quickly turns to alarm as she realizes what’s happened. 

“Bollocks,” you hear her whisper. You have to bite down on a smile as you lean forward to tap her shoulder. 

“Hi,” you say, your voice softening with apology. Her eyes landing on yours feels like pop rocks fizzling in your middle. You rip a page from your notebook and hold it out to her. “Here. I made a copy.” 

Those eyes, still bleary but sharpening by the second, fall to your notebook. “You…took two sets of notes?” she asks. 

“He speaks so slowly.” You give an awkward little laugh. “Leaves lots of time for writing, and I know you’d usually take your own, but…” 

“Thank you.” The girl finally grasps your outheld page. Her gaze lifts to yours again, brilliant green eyes framed by lashes tinted auburn. Her lips tilt in a tentative smile. “That’s really kind. I don’t know what happened, honestly, I’ve never napped in class before. I knew I should have stopped for coffee.” 

“I still have some left,” you say, before realizing how ridiculous this is. Why on earth would your pretty classmate want the watered-down dregs of your half finished iced latte? But you offered it to her without thinking, because you really don’t think there’s anything you wouldn’t gift her to keep her looking at you like that. 

And maybe it’s charity in the face of your heart-shuddering awkwardness, but she takes the cup you hold out, sipping from the same straw your lips had touched. 

She sighs in blissful relief. “I have to be going through withdrawal or something. This is so good. Thank you, really.” 

The smile she sends you now is bigger than the last, more awake and more sure and all the lovelier for it. Your cheeks tingle warmly. “It’s no problem,” you say. 

“No, you’ve given me your notes and now I’ve just stolen your coffee,” she laughs. “You have to let me pay you back. Can I buy you another?” 

You blink. “Oh, you really don’t have to—” 

“No, I want to, please. Unless you have another class?” 

You press your lips together, shaking your head. She smiles. 

“Perfect. I know a place just around the corner.” 

While you start to gather your things, she turns your cup in her hand, reading the scrawl of black sharpie on the side. “Y/n?” She says your name like she’s testing the feel of it in her mouth, giving it a taste. Her eyes flit up to yours again. “I’m Lily.”

[prongsinrevolt]

I cannot believe people let Snape get the high ground.

How do people casually overlook the fact that Snape spent six entire years of his life telling a kid—who never even got the chance to know his father—that said father was an arrogant douchebag? Like, how do people think that behavior is normal?

Snape, a grown man, spent years trying to convince a grieving, orphaned child that his dead father—who literally died protecting his family—was a terrible person. No compassion for a man who gave his life for his wife and son. No sympathy for a kid who grew up abused, unloved, and completely alone, only learning about his parents through stories told by others.

Instead, Snape chose to rehash his teenage rivalry with James Potter by bullying his son. Imagine being so petty that you can’t move past your high school grudges, even when the other person has been dead for over a decade.

Even the coldest, most detached person would muster some respect for a man who died fighting for good. But Snape? No. He chose to sit on his high horse—ignoring the fact that he was once a Death Eater who only changed sides when his own personal interests were threatened—and still had the audacity to act morally superior to James.

James Potter died a hero. Snape, on the other hand, spent his life tormenting the child of the woman he claimed to love—while refusing to let go of a teenage rivalry and weaponizing it against a traumatized, grieving boy.

I cannot get over how utterly selfish and cruel that is. Snape had no empathy for the dead and no sympathy for the living. And people still try to defend him? Seriously?

[blossomarlia]

hi, could you write a drabble with reader x remus where she rlly struggles with getting involved or going to hang out with people without explicitly being invited (just feeling really worried about being rejected) and he kind of reassures her and looks after her?

hi, thanks for this request! hope you enjoy, i generally don't write school-aged drabbles but thought this fit the best.

summary: your fear of being rejected stops you from joining your friends, but remus reassures you

remus x fem! reader (implied early stages romance)

Sitting by one of the fireplaces in the Gryffindor common room, you’re wondering how many of the people around you have exchanged glances over the top of your head. You can almost feel judgement thickening the air, raised eyebrows and confused smiles that ask why is she even here? To be honest, the only reason that you haven’t moved away is that you were technically sitting here first, and the rest of them milled in and took their spots nearby- then again, was it purposeful, your taking a place on one of the sofas they often use? In hindsight it’s just embarrassing. They must be assuming that you sat down just so they’d have no choice but to talk to you. 

You know you’re expecting the worst of this group, none of whom particularly deserve it. The flock of seventh-years surrounding you are generally a good bunch; Lily, Sirius, Marlene, Mary, Peter, James, Remus, and Dorcas,. You want to be one of them more than  you want most other things, which is somewhat pathetic and completely obvious in the way you’re always hanging around. They may all be lovely, and your friends (to some extent), but you know how irritating it can be if there’s always someone not quite in the group hanging around.

You should leave. Get up and make some comment about homework, or whatever, and wait for absolutely nobody to stop you. It’s kinder to everybody. Isn’t it?

Lost in your thoughts, you miss what Lily says next, and then they’re all getting to their feet. You give what you hope is a casual smile, simultaneously relieved of your spiralling and disappointed that they’re fulfilling your expectations.

There’s a tap on your shoulder- Remus, your favourite, whose hair has grown out over Christmas and now curls over his ears. He seems to get taller and lovelier with every passing moment. It’s difficult to make eye contact.

“We’re heading to the greenhouses, did you hear?” He says quietly, hand stilling instead of pulling away. You press your lips together and nod, carefully hiding any sort of misplaced hurt. It’s not as if you’re entitled to an invitation.

“Alright, I’ll see you later!” Too enthusiastic.

His brows pinch together. “You’re not coming?”

You look up at the others, who are collecting scarves and bags on their way to the portrait-hole. How can you admit to Remus that you don’t think they want you along? How can you tell him, anyone, that you’re far too afraid of being made fun of, or becoming a joke within their tight-knit group, to risk it?

“Oh, I don’t know. I have heaps of homework.”

“You do?” He raises his eyebrows. You feel caught, despite not having been accused of any sort of lie. “I thought you finished it all yesterday.”

You’d been studying when he and Lily joined you, and all day you’ve been wondering why they chose to. You probably put a but too much value on people choosing to sit next to you in class or during study; it’s unlikely that it was more than an absence of other free tables.

“...Some, yeah. And I wouldn’t want to- you know, I wouldn’t…” You trail off and give an awkward laugh. Remus’ gentle expression is making the inside of your mouth hurt.

“What?” You’re not used to your excuses mattering so much. Mostly, you mutter something and disappear to your dorm in time to avoid any drama. Is he feeling guilty, awkward about having made plans as a group in front of someone else? You cringe at the notion of Remus realising how friendless you probably are, of his pity. 

You know it’s your own fault for being like this. You’ve had friends in the past- cool, funny, popular, attractive- who frequently left you out on purpose. A drunken conversation in fifth year revealed that you were tolerable at best, a joke at worst. Always pushing in and so desperate for invitations that to extend them could only be ironic. 

You think about that more often than you should. You’re constantly hyperaware of how tolerable you are, sure that you’ll say or do something which will make everyone else realise exactly why you’re not in any particular group. You can’t let that happen yet with all these people, so full of love for one another that even proximity to them feels like the experience of it. Still, they’re teenagers. Judgement is an automatic response, and Remus is clever in the way he jokes. He’ll retell this conversation to roaring laughter if you reveal too much- not that he’s ever unkind, but you sort of invite a bad impression, you think.

“It’s really fine,” You assure him. “I’m tired. It’s cold, too.”

“Right,” He nods, glancing downwards. You think you’ve won (as much as you can win, here) until he turns to James and Peter and says, “I think we’re going to stay here. Bit chilly.”

What?

James frowns, making a sound of protest. “Moony!” His eyes fall to you next, and you look away, guilty and embarrassed. You’d never even considered that pity would drive Remus to actually stay here, and now they’ll all hate you. Nice job, very well handled.

Marlene is next. “‘Cas has just finished growing the Alihotsy plant, though. We’re all going.”

“It’s been weeks since we all had the evening off- or at least, since Potter and Black didn’t have a detention each,” Lily reasons more kindly. She receives twin protests from the boys on either side of her, but remains unbothered, adding, “It’d be nice to spend a bit more time as a group.”

You’re awfully close to tears. All you’d wanted was to relieve them of yourself, to retreat to your room and wait until somebody explicitly invited you somewhere (if ever), and now you’ve gone and ruined everybody’s evening. You turn to Remus, more urgent than is likely normal. “Please just go with them,” You say softly, aware that your voice is all wobbly. “I’m just going to go to bed, I don’t want to interrupt all of you catching up. Please, it’s really okay.”

There’s a brief silence that spans the entire crowd. They’ve all heard, are all likely attempting not to laugh. Remus is giving you an awful look. 

“...Are you okay, lovely?” Mary asks. You can’t look at her, can’t look at any of them, but you’ve always been alright at masking emotion in your voice when you really try. You force something like a smile.

“Yes! Yes, completely fine, I’m only tired. Post-holiday blues, maybe.” You laugh and it sounds terrible. “I’ve really only got to go to bed. You all have fun!” Silence again. 

“We might join you all in a bit,” Remus says firmly. There are a few worried noises of assent, and they all head off. Now, you do see them looking at one another, frowning and looking upset. Poor Remus, you imagine them saying on their way to the greenhouses, stuck looking after her while we all escape.

Remus asks you to sit down again three times before you agree, still rather set on going to bed so you won’t cry in front of the entire common-room.

“What’s making you so upset?” He asks softly, once he’s finally detained you. You blink quickly and cast a glance around at the other students in the common-room, afraid to embarrass yourself more than you already have, but he’s quick to assuage the fear. “I cast a muffliato when James began talking about the Alihotsy prank- ages ago. Nobody’s heard anything, I promise.”

You swallow harshly. “Oh. Thanks. I’m sorry I’m being so- so-”

“If I could,” Remus says, firm but kind, “This will be a lot easier if we can get to the problem, here, rather than whatever you think you’ve done wrong.”

“I- right. Okay. Um,” You stammer. “They’re not really mutually exclusive.” “Why don’t you want to come? Did somebody say something hurtful?” You look at him, slightly startled. “What? It’s not that I don’t want to.”

Remus seems perplexed, looking the way he does when he’s working out a particularly difficult exam question. “No?”

“No.” You twist your fingers together so tightly that they hurt. “No, it sounds fun, it just… it’s not as if I’m going to demand to be brought along, am I?” The joke falls flat. You think you already knew it would, but it’s still a bit embarrassing to laugh and be met with a concerned frown.

 You take a few longer breaths. You can fix this. You have to fix this. 

“Look, it’s kind of you to stay here, but like Lily said- you all have the night off. It’s really not so bad not to spend it as a group. I want you to go, really.” The next smile is easier. You’ve done this before, convinced people not to feel bad for you. 

“Why would you need to demand to be brought along?” Remus asks. “We made the plans while you were right here.”

“You all made plans together,” You explain slowly. “You know, having an evening to yourselves and that sort of thing. There’s no need for- you know, I’m honestly just tired. That’s probably why I’ve reacted so oddly, it’s my own fault.”

Remus looks at you for a long while, so intent that your skin gets prickly and uncomfortable. Eventually, he speaks, quiet and considered. “...You haven’t acted oddly if that’s how you’ve been feeling.”

“Tired?”

“No, excluded.” He says gently. “You really didn’t know you were invited?” You don’t answer with more than silence, and he sighs. 

“You were. You’re always invited, dove, of course you are.”

Trying not to get to hung up on impossibilities, you shake your head quickly. “It’d be a bit rude to assume that.”

“It wouldn’t.” Remus replies immediately. Then, “Dove, what are we going to do with you?” Entirely too much to comprehend. You’re glad he goes on. “Would you look at me for a moment, please?”

You want to ask him why, or refuse, or run up to your dormitory, but you do as he says. You wonder if he knows that he could ask you to do almost anything and you’d say yes, if he’ll only keep looking at you with his coffee-coloured eyes.

“All of us- we want you to come along, wherever we are. You’re important to lots of people. Do you understand that?” “I- I just don’t want to push myself in.” You say, mortified.

“You aren’t. You’re being pulled, if anything, yeah?” His lips quirk. “When Lily said those things about spending time as a group, she meant you, too. If somebody said something that made you think otherwise, I’ll-”

“Nobody said anything,” You tell him feebly. This is all rather a lot to take in. “I think… maybe it’s more that nobody’s said I am invited, or a part of- I don’t know, it’s all sort of stupid.”

“No it’s not,” Remus disagrees. He pinches your chin quickly between thumb and forefinger, frowning again. Mary once commented that Remus would look sixty by the time you all left school, with all his worrying wrinkles. “Not stupid, but it’s not very kind to yourself, either. Why shouldn’t we want you around?”

You open your mouth and close it at his raised eyebrow. “Rhetorical question?” 

“Rhetorical question.” He confirms amusedly. “There’s no point arguing, because we do. I do. I wish you wouldn’t think otherwise.”

“I’ve only been friends with all of you for a little while, though. You’ve all been mates since first-year.” At that, Remus outright scoffs. “Have we, now?” 

You shrug. 

“James and Lily always liked each other, then? Dorcas didn’t only just start hanging around us as well?” You look down, and he sighs. “However long everybody’s known one another, the most important bit is that we all like each other, yeah? It wouldn’t matter whether we became mates at eleven or two days ago- we’re friends. Or- you know.”

You definitely don’t know, but you’re going red anyway. He was definitely talking about Lily and James- that’s all he meant by ‘you know’. Isn’t it?

Remus scratches the back of his head, quiet for another second. Then, “...Why don’t we go down to the greenhouses? We’ll stick together the whole time, you’ll not be sat by yourself again.”

“I don’t want to make you babysit.”

Remus tsks, expression becoming sterner for a moment. “Don’t think that way about yourself. I’m asking because I want you to come- it’s not worth going if you aren’t there.”

The long moment it takes for you to decipher whether he’s only being nice or if that’s the truth is enough for Remus to decide that you don’t really have a choice in the matter. Tugging you to your feet, and seeming taller than ever with your proximity, he winds his own scarf around your neck and pushes some hair behind your hear. You let him, mostly because you’re too surprised to do anything about it.

“Let’s go, before they all decide to try some of the Alihotsy themselves. Gloves?”

You manage a nervous giggle, putting your mittens on when he hands them to you. “Thanks.”

“That’s alright. Come on,” He gives you a crooked sort of smile. It’s sometimes difficult to tell if Remus is aware how good-looking he is. 

The entire group are far too enthusiastic at yours and Remus’ arrival fifteen minutes later, given the fact that it’s hardly been half an hour since they left. Either way, you’re quickly pulled into a squabble between Lily and James about- as Remus predicted- the logic of trying some Alihotsy for themselves. 

“Thank Merlin you came, you’re the only one who won’t be completely daft about this!” Lily says, linking her arm in yours. You smile before catching Remus’ eye and looking down, feeling yourself flush. Smug bastard, you think fondly.

It’s an entire two hours before everyone heads back up to the castle, having thoroughly violated curfew but without (to James and Sirius’ chagrin) having tested any of the plant which would induce hysterical laughter. You find yourself walking beside the tallest of the group in comfortable silence, a few steps behind the rest.

“Thanks for making me come with you,” You say, perhaps a little more earnestly than you ought. “It was really nice.”

“‘Course, dove.” You look up at Remus to find he’s already looking at you. He clears his throat, glancing over at Sirius and Marlene where they’re pretending to push each other into the snow. It’s likely to end in one of them following through and the other swearing eternal hatred. “We’re all glad you came along. Could even make a habit of it.”

You exhale a laugh. “Maybe.”

He gives you a sideways look. “Oh, ‘maybe’, is it?” “...Conceivably?” You grin, darting away when he grabs at you and sort of wishing you’d stayed still just to see what he’d do. Remus fixes you with a teasing glare.

“Watch it, sweetheart.”

You blink, choking on words for a minute. Sweetheart? Sweetheart!? Sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheartsweetheartsweetheartsweetheart-

“You alright?” 

“Yeah!” You say, too quickly. Remus misreads your flusteredness as something else and softens, taking hold of your sleeve and tugging you towards him. You go easily.

“If it’ll help,” He says thoughtfully, “You can ask me if you’re invited to things. Or I’ll just tell you. Then you won’t have to go to the trouble of assuming either way.”

You like him so, so much. “That’s really nice of you, Remus.”

“Eh,” He shrugs. “You know me.”

Now, it’s harder not to smile than anything else. “I don’t want you to go to any trouble. It’s really my problem, I shouldn’t-”

“Enough,” He interrupts gently. “Just say yes, dove, if it’ll help. I won’t be unhappy either way.”There are several places within you, the more unkind parts, that say accepting his offer would be like accepting pity. But there are also places that are warmed at the thought, that remember how people reacted when you arrived in the greenhouse, that can start imagining a reality wherein nobody hated your presence by the sofas tonight, and those bits win the argument for the first time in a very long time. You look up at Remus, his soft eyes and fluffy hair dusted with snow, and nod.

[crescenthistory]

hiii i literally never do this but i saw ur post and ur one of my favs so i’m taking a chance🙈🙈

could i ask for no29 on the kisses prompt list with lily evans and female reader pleaseee

ur writing is so so beautiful and i hope u have a safe journey !! <3

for the journeys & journals mini-event <3

prompt: "giggling while kissing"

wc: 0.7k

cw: fem!reader, lots of kisses, both reader and lily have lipstick on them, established post-hogwarts relationship, domestic fluff, sassy flirting, perhaps vaguely suggestive?

“This won’t work if you don’t sit still.”

Lily attempts to make her voice admonishing, her delicate fingers tightening their grip on your chin. You’re on cloud nine with the love of your life straddling your lap in her pretty flowing skirt, her copper hair swooshing around you like beaded curtains from her elevated position peering down at you.

“I’m sat perfectly still,” you retort, a bit petulantly. You can’t keep the grin off your face, though, smudged lipstick on your upper lip creasing.

She narrows her eyes at you but mirrors your grin like it’s breathing. “This is a crucial mission, I’ll have you know.”

Her hand gestures vaguely to the array of lipsticks perfectly stacked up in two neat rows on the coffee table beside your sage sofa, one row representing the ones you are done testing while the others still eagerly await trial. Beside them, there is a small packet of makeup wipes.

“Oh, I recognise the significance of this very moment, Your Highness,” you tease, earning you another faux scowl. Even still, she stretches backwards for the makeup wipes, giving you a gorgeous view of her soft torso. 

“How else do you plan on me kissing you at Euphemia’s gala without making a scene.” Lily stage-whispers, like this is a top secret disclosed in the domestic atmosphere of your shared flat. “Wouldn’t want to be scandalous now, would we, darling?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you breathe out, already distracted by watching her perfectly manicured green nails pull out a makeup wipe. With practised movements, she wipes off the maroon lipstick left on her lips, worn off as it dramatically failed the kiss test.

A slow smile begins to spread on her face as she gently uses the backside of the same wipe to clean around your lips. Her fingers slide along your jaw with ease, caressing you gently as she cleans. It is so painfully intimate your head spins. 

Your lips part slightly as she drags the wipe over your bottom lip a final time, eyes flickering up from your lips to your eyes. “We could just use magic to do that, you know.” You almost stutter, breathless.

Lily quirks a sculpted brow at you, slightly reddish as she hasn’t dyed them in a while. “Would you like me to?”

“No.” You use your hands on her waist to pull her closer to you, tilting your head up to capture her lips with yours.

You press your lips to Lily’s, gentle and slightly sore from putting lipstick on and taking it off all morning, but you didn’t mind, because she practically melted against you. She softens in your grip, parting your lips with hers like she has a thousand times before and would do a thousand times more, tongue delving in to meet yours.

You hum against her, making the corners of her lips quirk upwards. “We should really–” she kisses you again, “save these for–” and again, “the lipstick swatches.”

“Mm, the lipsticks can wait,” you mumble against her lips, deepening the kiss as you chase the taste of Lily and not just lipstick.

She couldn’t withhold her giggles as they tumble from her lips over into yours, infecting you as you begin to giggle yourself. You tighten your gip on the small of her back and turn the two of you over, tossing her down on the sofa and chasing after her.

She makes a high-pitched shrieking sound, followed by a crescendo of giggles as you quickly slot yourself between her legs to continue kissing all over her face. She pretends to try and wriggle free of your grip, even as she holds you close and presses her body against yours.

“You insatiable beast!” She laughs against your cheek, and – despite her accusations – captures your lips with hers once more, drawing your bottom lip in between hers.

You return the kiss with giddy passion, again, and again, and again. “Needed a break from all the lipstick,” you mutter when you simply must come up for air.

Her hair splays around her like a halo as she looks up at you with equal parts mirth and breathlessness. “You wanted a break from the kissing with more kisses?”

“I’m glad you catch my drift, baby,” you whisper, leaning in for another.

[slytherinsimp12]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊ 𝓖𝓸𝓵𝓭 𝓻𝓾𝓼𝓱 ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊

Pairing: James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: James Potter was charming, mischievous, captain of the quidditch team and very popular among the girls at Hogwarts. He had a certain talent for making his presence aware , a charisma that was unmatchable. You didn’t have many friends, no matter how hard you tried, people never seemed to acknowledge you. To put it quite plainly, you were the polar opposite of James. You spent years trying to push out and ignore any romantic feelings you had for him, because come on… there is no way he even knows you exist…. Right?

Warnings: Mild swearing and kissing/ making out.

Author’s Note: Hi my loves, this is part 1 of a mini series called- Gold rush. I will keep updating, as fast as I can. If you like my work, feel free to send in requests and leave comments 💌. Happy reading xx. Part 2 and Part 3 out now! (Comment to be added to the taglist)

The lively chatter of students filled the corridors. Golden light shone on the cold, aged walls. The air was heavy with the scent of old books, dust and a hint of magic. You made your way towards the dungeons, just in time for Potions class. You were fairly late; your usual spot was taken by another student. You scanned the classroom, looking for a vacant seat. Unfortunately, there was only one, at the very front of the class.

You settled in the empty seat, when you noticed the boy sitting next to you. His messy black hair was overgrown, and ruffled in a way that looked purposeful. His hazel eyes appeared large beneath his round glasses. James Potter was unreasonably attractive, that wasn’t a secret. You spent your first few years at Hogwarts trying to deny it, but it was of no use. You tried telling yourself his good looks didn’t make up for his arrogant and vexatious personality. He was insufferable.

You hated the way he paraded around the school, hands casually tucked in his pockets, increasing his voice by a few extra decibels whenever a pretty girl walked by. You hated the way he effortlessly drew attention to himself as soon as he walked into a room. And what you hated the most, was when he would catch your gaze lingering on him for a little too long.

“Good morning students. I will be assigning you your partners from now onwards. You will stick to these arrangements for the rest of the academic year.” Professor Slughorn announced, earning disappointed groans from the whole class.

“I have learned my lesson after the ‘incidents’ young Mr. Potter and Mr.Black have caused.” He continued, causing wide grins to spread across James and Sirius’ faces.

Slughorn spent most of the lesson reading out the pairs he had made. You were growing impatient, he hadn’t called out your name yet, maybe this was the perfect opportunity to finally make a new friend… and you know, make it last this time.

“Mr.Potter and Ms. Y/L/N” The professor called out.

You have got to be kidding me, you thought to yourself, a horrified look plastered across your face.

“Why that face, love? I don’t bite” James said turning towards you, then to Sirius and letting out a laugh.

You rolled your eyes and left class, saved by the bell.

The next day, you decided to spend your free time in the library and catch up on some homework. Immersed in your work, you almost didn’t notice the figure walking towards you.

“Feeling studious, are we?” James asked, placing his hands on the table and leaning forward.

“I was, until you came along.” You mumbled, mostly to yourself, as you stared packing your things up.

“Wait, where are you going?” James asked.

“I’m sorry, is there something in particular you want from me?” You snapped.

“You’re my new potions partner aren’t you? I thought we could study for the upcoming test together.” He said cooly.

“Right… well, I’m y/n.” You said, extending your hand.

“You’re kidding right?” James asked, with an almost offended expression.

“Why would I be kidding about my name?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Bloody hell… I know who you are y/n!” James exclaimed. “Third year, Defence against the dark arts, fourth year transfiguration and history of magic and fifth year, divination and astronomy. Those are all the classes we had together, do you not remember?” James continued.

“Oh- um… yea, I guess.” You said, dumbfounded. You remembered. You obviously remembered. How could you forget? But the real question was, how in Merlin’s Name did James freaking Potter know who you were? Did you hit your head and fall into an alternate reality, where you were one of the bimbos he noticed?

It had been a week since that unforeseen encounter with James. He would wink at you during meals or purposefully walk too close to you in the corridors, just enough for your shoulders to brush. He would pretend like he didn’t notice you, but you could feel his stare penetrate when you weren’t looking.

The following night, you woke up in a cold sweat. Your stomach was churning with nausea; it must have been the puking pasties a girl named Marlene gave you.

You were in desperate need of fresh air. Careful not to wake your dorm mates, you slipped out of bed, not caring that you’re in your pyjamas and decided to take a stroll around the castle. You had to be really cautious to not get caught, you didn’t want your house to loose points. You made your way to the dungeons, as it had a lovely view of the black lake.

“Light them up before Filch comes!” A voice whispered.

“What if the Slytherins wake up!” A shrill voice filled with fear added.

“Leave if you must , Pete! But do not ruin this for the rest of us.” You could recognise that voice anywhere.

You peaked your head from the corner of a wall, spotting James and his group of friends, ‘the marauders’, they called themselves. How cheesy. They were in-front of the Slytherin common room, with what seemed to be dung bombs and fire crackers in their hands.

‘Bloody hell. They’re mental.’ You thought to yourself.

“Shit! Run!” One of the voices shouted.

The crackers exploded, creating loud sounds and a strong pungent smell. From a distance, you could see Filch running towards the mess. Suddenly, you felt someone grab you from behind. Before you could shout, their hand covered your mouth. You turned your head to see James signalling you to be quiet. He pulled you into a hidden corner as Filch scoured the surroundings, looking for the culprits behind the mess.

He released his hand from your mouth.

“What the hell! What are you guys doing! Have you absolutely lost your minds??!!” You whisper shouted.

“Y/N Y/L/N, are you following me?To answer your question, no our minds are very much intact. Just a bit of sweet revenge on the Slytherins. Nothing special.” James smirked.

You noticed just how close the both of you were standing. You could feel his warm breath on your cheeks. You could see the soft curve of his lips and the slight flush in his cheeks. You could hear his heart racing.

He lifted his arm, gently brushing a strand of stray hair away from your face.

Whatever gap was there between the two of you, was closed by James. His lips crashed into yours with an intensity that set your skin on fire. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. All the years of pent up emotions you felt for James came rushing. He pulled away from the kiss to catch his breath, the overwhelming force left you reeling.

“Prongs! Prongs, where are you?” A voice hissed.

“Shit.” James said, through clenched teeth.

“Prongs?” You asked, smirking and raising an eyebrow.

“It’s Sirius. I’ve got to go. Will you be able to go back to your dorm on your own?” James questioned.

You nodded.

“Catch you later, y/n” He said, flashing you that famous James Potter smile.

That alone was enough to make your heart melt.

(All rights reserved, ©)

[uramakimochi]

THE FAVORITE

Wolfstar x daughter!Reader

Jily + Slytherin Gang x Wolfstar!daughter!Reader (platonic)

WARNINGS: fluffy crack fic, inspired by this and inspired by the trend on tiktok where families see which member the toddler first runs to. FEM!R but no use of Y/n. I tried to write this with the 3rd person pov sorry if i repeat the same words lol but i don't like using Y/N.

English is not my first language so feel free to correct me.

Hiii i'm back with a lil Wolfstar!daughter story~ It's a bit random but i hope you still like this<3

"I still don't understand why we're doing this..." Barty muttered, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Come on Barty, it's cute" said Marlene, sitting on the couch at the Lupin-Black house.

"It's stupid" the other retorted.

"Yeah. There's no need to play this game, we all know that her favorite is me. I'm her beloved father" Sirius continued, intent on putting out the cigarette he had just finished smoking.

The other adults around him looked at him unimpressed and Remus turned to look at his husband questioningly.

"I am her father too?"

"You're the bad cop between us, she loves me more" Sirius retorted with a smirk.

"No, she doesn't"

"Yes, she does"

"No"

"Yes"

"Can you two stop so we can do this once and for all?" Regulus's voice then rang out in the living room, which made the couple stop bickering.

Barty rolled his eyes and with a light push pushed himself away from the wall to join all the other adults who were lining up in the middle of the living room.

"Know that i'm only doing this to show you that i'm my little viper's favorite" he said, positioning himself between Evan and Dorcas.

"Hah, you wish. I'm her godfather" James said, looking at him arrogantly.

"She's not even old enough to know what a godfather is" Evan retorted, and Dorcas leaned forward to fist bump him.

"Well, i'm her godmother. And i'm the only one out of you all here that always give her presents" and when Barty raised his hand to add something, the redhead pointed a finger at him. "Non-Dangerous presents, Junior"

"Billy was a harmless snake! I would've never given my baby a poisonous one as a pet!"

The women rolled their eyes in disgust, while Regulus looked at the Potter couple.

"I'm not one to compete for these things, but if we really want to be precise, the first person she saw when Sirius and Remus brought her home was me. I'm sure that the bond that unites us will bring her straight away to me"

"What, you think you imprinted on her? The werewolf here is Remus" Dorcas retorted, making everyone else chuckling and Regulus looked at her awkwardly.

While all the relatives continued to discuss, Remus cast one last look at the little girl he held in his arms and who was looking at him curiously.

"Okay my darling, are you ready?"

The little girl giggled when she saw the smile on Remus' lips, but then a look of confusion spread across her face when he brought her back down to the ground, leaving her standing on the carpet.

Remus stepped back to join the others but when he realized that she was about to follow him with a whine, he stretched his hands forward to stop her.

"Stay there sweetheart. Stay there" he ordered her softly.

The toddler stopped and continued to look at him in confusion, not understanding why he was walking away from her. As soon as Remus lined up next to Sirius, everyone crouched down and opened their arms wide and within seconds they were calling out to her.

"Sweetie! Look here!" "Come here babygirl!" "Come to Daddy!" "Little viper, here!"

The little girl swept her eyes over each of the relatives who were calling out to her making grabby hands in her direction. Suddenly she took a couple of shaky steps forward and they started calling her louder.

"Come here my darling, come to daddy! The best and most beautiful one!" Sirius exclaimed, who received an elbow in the side from Remus.

But both parents' hearts broke when they saw their little girl go from walking to running towards none other than James Potter.

"Yesss!"

James stood up holding the little girl in his arms and did a small turn around, while the little girl let out a little squeal. "In your face!" he exclaimed, pointing a finger at each of them. "This is the power of the godfather!"

"No, it's the James Potter effect" Marlene murmured, looking at him with a pout.

"You were just lucky, Potter!" Barty continued.

James gave the little girl a couple of loud kisses on the cheek and crossed the living room to bring her back to where she had started. As soon as he sat down on the couch to enjoy the show, his friends started calling her again.

Maybe she was still young to understand that the point of that game was to run towards her favorite member or maybe she simply didn't have a favorite one. All she cared about was running towards someone and that's what she did again.

And second place on the favorites podium was won by Regulus.

"Oh come on!" Barty yelled again, opening his arms wide in exasperation when he saw the toddler wrap her arms around the younger Black's body.

Regulus smirked, leaning his head to press a kiss to her forehead, muttering an "I knew it".

Sirius looked at them shocked. "Maybe he really imprinted on my daughter?" he muttered, receiving a slap on the arm from Remus.

When Regulus put the little girl back on her feet she wasted no time in running towards the first person she saw. Do you think she chose one of her parents this time? Well, you're wrong.

"What?!?!" both Sirius and Remus blurted out.

The former almost fell to the ground on his knees. It's okay to lose to James, it's okay to lose to Regulus. But being beaten by Junior too?? Now that's humiliating.

Barty gave them the middle finger, a gesture which fortunately the little girl didn't notice, too busy digging her fingers into his thin cheeks.

"I don't understand why only the men are winning. What happened to solidarity between women?" Lily huffed, crossing her arms.

"It only happened because he was in her path" Dorcas hissed. "If we had switched places she would've chosen me"

"You're all just jealous snakes" Barty retorted, then he lowered his head and looked at the little girl, reaching out with a finger to touch her chest. "As for you, little viper... I'm very disappointed, you know? It took you long enough, you broke my heart"

But she simply laughed, not caring about his mock reproachful tone.

So the race continued.

And when Sirius and Remus thought that this time at least one of them would be chosen, they felt their morale go under their feet when they saw their daughter running to all the girls. First Lily, then Dorcas and Marlene and they all cheered with joy at not having ended up in last place in the ranking.

"That's it" Sirius said, glaring at Evan, the only remaining uncle. "There's no way one of us is going to lose to Rosier, right babe?"

"Absolutely" Remus nodded, also determined to win at all costs.

Evan looked at them indifferently, while the girls and James laughed.

Barty looked from the little one to her parents with a cocky smile. "Do your worst little viper!"

Remus and Sirius glared at him, then crouched down again and opened their arms and Evan did the same.

"Sweetheart look here! Look at daddy!" the taller one called her, using the sweetest tone his voice was capable of. "Come here, gimme a kiss!"

"You know what honey? I don't care if you choose dad over me, the important thing is that you don't go to Uncle Evan hm?" Sirius continued with a fake smile. "Come here, just give me a hug!"

The toddler took a step towards them and a light of hope lit up in both of their eyes. But then, for a split second, her gaze fell on Evan's. He gave her a small closed-lipped smile and then he said a simple "Come on, little one".

That was all it took to make her change her mind and run towards him. Evan wrapped an arm around her little body, pulling her close to his chest, and everyone else except Remus and Sirius burst out laughing. Sirius lowered his head in despair.

"I failed as a father, i understand" he murmured in a dramatic tone and Remus patted his shoulder also disappointed.

"We both failed darling"

Junior jumped up from the couch and walked over to Evan and the toddler, raising a hand in the air.

"I'm so proud little viper, give me a high five"

She obviously returned the gesture, not understanding why but only knowing that seeing her Uncle Barty happy made her happy.

Lily leaned over to rest her head on James shoulder sitting next to her and she looked at the two parents with a pout. "Aw guys, don't be so sad. It's just a game"

"Yes" Regulus nodded. "Although i'm quite proud to have been chosen in the second round, i'm sure that her choices were completely random. Nothing to be taken seriously"

Remus smiled slightly, while Sirius shook his head and then stood up to look at them.

"No. There is still the last challenge: the one that will determine the real winner. Between me and Remus"

Remus looked at him amused. "Sirius, it's a game"

But Sirius narrowed his eyes at him.

"You're only saying that because you already know you'll lose to me, don't you Lupin?"

Remus' calm expression fell within seconds to make room for a defiant look.

"And you're only saying that because you're scared, aren't you?"

James looked at them with a smirk and made himself more comfortable on the sofa. "This is getting interesting"

Dorcas turned to the others.

"Anyone betting on Lupin?" she asked and herself, Lily, Marlene and Regulus raised their hands.

"Reggie i thought you were on my side??" Sirius exclaimed feeling betrayed by his own brother, who simply shrugged his shoulders.

As Sirius and Remus got into position, Evan lowered the little girl onto the carpet. A few seconds later the two fathers began calling her.

"My sweet little girl, come here to daddy!" Sirius exclaimed, making grabbing hands towards her. "If you give me a hug i'll get you the biggest dollhouse ever!"

"You won't buy her another dollhouse!" Remus retorted, then looked at her with a smile. "Sweetheart, i know you love me more, right?? I really really need your cuddles right now! Come to me!"

Everyone present anxiously watched the little girl's moves, who this time spent much more time deciding which of the two to go to. Maybe she really realized the purpose of the challenge?

Then one step. Another. And another again. Until finally the little girl gave in to her father's calls and reached him, hugging him around the neck.

Everyone screamed when they saw her slam into Remus' body.

The latter stood up victorious and made her bounce in his arms, while Sirius let out a heartbroken sigh.

"The bad cop still wins in the end" Remus said, smirking at his husband, rubbing his nose against his daughter's soft cheek and making her laugh.

But despite the joy that one of the two fathers exuded, it was as if the toddler noticed that the other did not seem as happy as everyone else. So she began to squirm in Remus' arms and he barely had time to put her down before she hurried over to meet Sirius, collapsing against his chest.

"Awww!" the girls exclaimed.

Sirius wrapped his arms around her little body, holding her close and rocking her from side to side, while he and Remus exchanged a tender look.

"Looks like it's a tie" James said with a smile as he stood up and Lily followed him.

"It was obvious. There's no need of a silly game to determine who her favorite is" Marlene continued, squeezing Dorcas' hand. "It will always be her beloved parents"

Sirius stood up and Remus leaned over to give him a kiss on the forehead and then give one to their daughter's head, who was looking at them smiling from Sirius' arms. Who was looking at them with eyes full of someone who loves both of her fathers equally. Neither more nor less.