#marauders drabble

[sunnami]

the (poly) marauders + lily as reversed tropes.

a/n: i tried moving to a new blog.. possibly got shadowbanned... that other blog is now my dump blog, LMAO. pls enjoy this drabble!

i. academic rivals except it’s two teachers who compete to have the best class.

“It’s driving me mad, Prongs,” says a frazzled Remus Lupin, pacing back and forth in his nearly-empty classroom. Sirius watches from where he sits backwards on a wooden chair—not at all concerned with the woes of his lover, rather preoccupied with the derriere of the DADA professor, hugged beautifully by his trousers. (He makes a mental note to thank Lily and her shopping sprees in Muggle London later. And, thoroughly.) Lily eyes Remus warily, ignoring the way James is tugging at her newly-trimmed hair like a lovesick fourth-year. 

“I’ve fought in the bloody war, what do you mean my ‘pronunciation could do with some work’?” Remus scoffs, a bewildered expression on his flushed cheeks. Then, he points to the basket of lemon poppy-seed muffins, “And, the gall to send me that. Can you believe it?”

“No way,” Lily widens her eyes in mock outrage, gasping for melodramatic effect. “How dare anyone send our sweet, darling Remus homemade muffins?”

Remus dangles the swing handle of the wicker basket by his hand, nose scrunched in disgust as though it could turn him into a werewolf for the second time. “It’s not about the baskets, Lily! It’s a fear-mongering tactic—a threat, if you will. If Gryffindor doesn’t win the house cup, I might as well resign from my post.” 

James chortles, leaning back against his seat to fully stare at Remus. (And what a lovely face he has.) “Don’t you think you’re going overboard there, Moony? We’ve won the bloody thing every year—and if we’re running behind Hufflepuff, I can always give ickle Harry a hundred points for being our son. Quite a feat, wouldn’t you agree?”

Lily smacks him on the arm. “Don’t you dare, James Fleamont Potter!” 

Sirius whistles. “Full name. Yikes. You’re on your own there, mate.” 

James glares at him. “I’ve had my tongue down your throat, don’t call me ‘mate’.” 

Grinning, Sirius diverts his attention back to the pouting werewolf, struck by whatever magical spell you’ve cast on him—and their happy little wedded bunch. (He particularly likes the way you raise your voice when the Weasley twins charm your greenhouse with the colors of maroon and yellow. The upturn of your nose and raw fury in your eyes does something funny to his heart.) “Be honest, Moony, you’re just frustrated because our favorite professor is wearing those bell-bottom jeans that make their legs look just utterly delectable,” he grins salaciously. 

“Can confirm,” replies Lily with a chirpy nod. “The back view is even better.” 

“Well, yes, but that’s beside the point, my love,” Remus splutters with a cough. “It’s a matter of legacy and pride now. If—”

“While I appreciate being the topic of conversation, I’ve come to collect my students’ papers on Hinkypunks and Dugbogs,” you enter the fray with a knock on the door, startling them from their conversation; a wide smile on your face and a yellow scarf around your neck. “You see, I like to give them points myself when they score above a hundred percent. It really motivates them for the end-of-year exams.” 

James beams at your arrival, like a sunflower blooming under sunlight on a summer day. He stretches his arms wide, a space perfectly carved for you. “Come here, darling,” he calls out for his spouse, quickly affirming that the jeans you’re wearing is a blessing to the wizard kind. (He wonders if you’d let him peel it off you tonight.) As you perch yourself atop his lap, James nuzzles the crook of your neck, pressing soft, butterfly kisses to your skin. “How was your day?”

He captures your lips and you eagerly lean into his warmth. “Perfect now that I’ve found you all. Why were you hiding here, anyway?” you ask innocently, fluttering your lashes at Remus. “Did you get my gift, Moony? The elves helped me with it last night.”

“He’s just cross because you’ve become the entire castle’s favorite teacher in your first year,” Lily points out treacherously, flashing her doe eyes at Remus. (Great, now he’s got two pairs of the prettiest eyes on earth staring into his soul. He’s so beyond in love with everyone in this room.) “Not even the Malfoy kid complains about you, and he still grumbles when I have to do my yearly check-ups.”

You laugh knavishly, beckoning him over. “Is it my fault that I’m so lovable?” 

Remus scoffs, yet finds his feet drawn towards you in long, impatient strides. He leans down until the scent of ambrarome and coconut overwhelms your senses. You tug on his duck-printed tie, smiling as he grumbles lightheartedly into your lips, “Not at all, darling.”

“Shall I lock the doors now?” Sirius offers mischievously. “I’ve always wanted to do it in a classroom.”

ii. it’s too hot to cuddle!

“Mmmrgh, Lily, get off, you fiend,” you groan into the sweat-soaked pillow, suffering from one of the worst heat waves Godric’s Hollow has ever seen—swatting your wife away as she throws her leg over your thigh, impishly nibbling on your neck. On any other day, you’d relish the feel of her skin on yours, the tendrils of her flaming red hair tickling your bare arms—or the times you’d wake up to a tangled mess of crimson in your mouth. But today is just not that day.

Lily sniffles. “Ah, woe is me. My own son doesn’t want to hug me anymore, and none of the people I married want to cuddle me on this dreadful—what ever happened to ‘til death do us part’, you traitors?” 

You roll over on the bed to face her with an incredulous glare—the pretty witch has the nerve to smile at you. “Don’t be so dramatic, Lily. Just cast another cooling charm, or something.”

Lily flops onto her side of the king-sized bed, breathless and flushed, arms splayed out like an octopus—wincing apologetically when she hits you in the face by accident. “I already did. We might just have to get naked to put up with this heat.”

James pokes his head through the door, glasses forgone and black hair messily strewn over his eyes; the damp fabric of his white shirt clinging to chiseled, dark skin. (Ah, the joys of marrying an active Auror and former Quidditch prodigy.) “Did someone say get naked?”

“Way ahead of everyone,” says Sirius as he steps out of the bathroom, having taken his fourth shower today, and wearing nothing but his birthday suit, face towel strung over his shoulder and toothbrush in the side of his mouth. 

“Oh Gods, Sirius!” Lily squeals as she throws a pillow at him. “Get back in there and put some clothes on!” 

“What?” he retorts quizzically, swirling around to give everyone a show—and a generous view of his abs and firm backside. And, well, the other thing, too. “It’s not like you haven’t seen any of this before.”

Last to join the party is Remus, who barely spares a second glance to the naked Sirius Orion Black. “Pack your things, I got us a room at a Muggle inn for an hour. Harry’s downstairs waiting for everyone. He says he’ll rip off the stuffed Padfoot’s head if no one accompanies him to the pool later.” 

That is all he says before swiftly exiting the room.

You stare at the spot where he had been standing previously, whispering in awe, “God bless the Remus Lupins of the world.” 

iii. too much communication.

“—and the thing is,” you say through your weepy blubbering, nose swollen and eyes stinging from crying for the last thirty minutes. “When you guys get all secret-ey and start avoiding me, it really makes me feel like shite. And. . . and then—!” you pause to hiccup, breaking down into sobs once more when Sirius gathers you into his arms, laying his love all over your skin, kissing your tears away as he coos into your ear. “And then, Gilderoy Lockhart comes and says that you all hide away in this h-house, or shack, or whatever and meet your secret girlfriend there! I know you said it was just us and you’d never, ever cheat—and I trust you all more than life itself! But I have to know why you disappear from me every month on a particular night. A-Are you tired of me or something?”

Sirius hushes you with his lips, brows contorted—as though he’s in pain because you are in pain. He cradles the back of your neck, placating your worries with whispers of devotion. “Oh, darling, I’m sorry. We didn’t mean for it to get this far. We just wanted to keep you from harm. You’re our world, our entire heart. If you’re hurt, it hurts worse for us, little love.” 

Remus kneels by your feet, grabbing your hands in his; eyes dripping with fondness and warmth. The gold flecks in his eyes glimmering like stars in the night sky. “There’s something you have to know about me, love. We should have told you this long ago—but I was afraid you would look at me differently.”

You end up in another crying fit, overwhelmed by his kindness and sincerity. “I’ve seen you when you had food poisoning, Remus Lupin, I was the one who cleaned your vomit on the floors—nothing on this earth can make me look at you differently.”

Remus chokes, before gathering his bearings, hiding wet chuckles in your lap. “I’m a werewolf, my darling. That’s why we avoid you during full moons. To keep you safe. Your safety is always going to be one of my highest priorities. I’d die before I would let Moony harm a pretty hair on your head.” 

“Is that it?” you croak, whimpers subsiding as relief floods through your veins. “Truly?”

Remus nods. “Truly.”

“Oh, our poor love,” Lily murmurs, delicately running her hand through your hair, a worried knit in her brows. “I’m sorry we let it get to this point. Look at you—you’ll cry yourself sick.” She procures a daintily-embroidered handkerchief from her skirt pockets, gently dabbing at your damp eyes, eyes creased with love. “I’m sorry,” she says once more, pressing her lips to yours until all you feel is her instead of hurt. “No more secrets, I promise.”

James scratches the back of his head with a crooked grin. “Well. . . there is one more. Remember that time you saw a stag in the corridors? That was me. And, the dog trying to get a look under your skirt was Sirius.”

You blink. “What?”

iv. child hero has very involved parents.

Harry James Potter is known as the Boy-Who-Lived, the beloved Chosen One of the wizarding society, if you will. He has a destiny to follow and all that—well, if he could actually do anything heroic.

“What do you mean there’s a basilisk in the castle!” you shriek, a poor vase in Dumbledore’s office shattering to a million pieces. Harry drags a hand down his face—this is going to be a very long night. Suddenly, he regrets writing a letter to home about the happenings in the castle. (How was he supposed to know that all five of his parents would march into Dumbledore’s quarters the moment they heard about the blood on the walls and the petrified students?) “Why haven’t you shut down the school yet? Are you waiting for more students to get hurt?” you press on heatedly, James and Sirius flanking your sides like protective bodyguards. 

“Have you taken any protective measures?” Lily asks worriedly, holding onto Remus’s hand that’s resting on her shoulder. (Honestly, Harry thinks, rolling his eyes inwardly. The lot of you are worse than Molly Weasley at this point.) She turns to Harry, “What about Hermione? Is she safe? Oh, her parents must be worried.”

“You know what,” you say standing up, pivoting on your heel as your flock of lovers follow in suit. “We’re leaving, Harry dear, let’s go.” 

“Go?” the twelve-year-old echoes dumbfoundedly. “Go, where?”

“Home,” you reply with no room for arguments. “Until the matter is resolved, you are staying home. And tell Hermione she’s welcome to stay with us, too. And, Ginny. Ronald, as well. Actually, darling, why don’t you just tell all your friends the Potter manor is open to them whenever.”

Harry thinks you’ve just decided that on a whim, but he knows that Lily and his fathers will go along with whatever you want, regardless.

Your gaze slices to Dumbledore with a low hiss, venomous enough to rival a Slytherin’s taunt. “Fix this or I shall hunt down that basilisk myself.” 

Harry’s shoulders slump. 

So much for fulfilling prophecies and defeating dark lords.

a/n: drabbles are so fun!! this was so fun to write (but not trying to set up another blog.. NEVER AGAIN, I AM STAYING HERE!) i might do some more drabbles since my brain is fried after my last few fics which were long as heck.

[sun-kissy]

chocolate-coated hearts | r.l.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

barista!remus x shy!reader

summary: you go to a new cafe to order donuts for your friend, immediately enamoured with the barista

tw: nothing? reader takes literature as a major, also kind of has social anxiety

a/n: might make this a series! i’ve got a few ideas <3

An anxious sigh escapes you as you stand idly outside the cafe, peering inside through the mosaicked windows. It was jam-packed, people pushing past each other and snake-like queues forming throughout the space. You wriggle your phone out of your coat pocket and glance at the message that your friend, Madison, had sent in a half hour ago.

hey gorgeous!! mind picking up a few donuts for me at Beanie’s before you come over? a few of the pbj ones, and some chocolate ones too. thanks xx

She was expecting, and you went by whenever you could to help her out after her asshole of a boyfriend left.

Normally, you wouldn’t bother. You hated crowded places, and Beanie’s was the definition of crowded – an old-style cafe which had blown up overnight because of its scrumptious donuts and vintage aesthetic. But who were you to deny the cravings of the woman bearing your goddaughter?

You take a deep breath and push the creaky wooden door open, cringing at how the bell rang and signalled the whole cafe to your presence. But no one so much as looked up, busy trying to buy or sell food, or find a table.

You push your way through the sea of people, joining the queue in front of the counter. It was long, you noted, and would probably take another fifteen minutes or so until it was your turn to place an order. You fish out your crumpled book from your bag and turn it to the page you had stopped on yesterday. It was the second classic of the term – Pride and Prejudice. Taking literature as a major meant you spent more time reading than anything else, but you weren’t complaining.

As you read, you scribbled down plot points to take note of and quotes which meant something worth writing about. Your eyes stayed glued to the page, trying to work out hidden meanings and flowery language. Once you were back home, you’d have to compile all your analysis onto that worksheet Professor Ragnarsson had given out, write the 10-page long review, and then –

“Hey! Shut the damn book and order, will you?”

Your heart jumps in your chest at the sudden harsh tone. You close your book and whip your head around to see a middle-aged man glaring at you before peering down at his watch. “There’s a long queue, and we don’t have all day.”

The heat rushes to your cheeks as you open your mouth to apologise – but before you can say anything, you hear an oddly soothing voice from behind you. “Hey, don’t be a jerk. She didn’t know the counter was open.”

You glance back towards the counter, and you swear your heart stopped beating for a second. Angelic was an understatement to describe the man standing in front of you, tall and lanky and absolutely fucking beautiful.

His chestnut brown hair perfectly framed his pale face, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as he glanced at the rude customer behind you. There were pinkish scars tracing from above his eyebrows to right below his lips, but they looked golden under the orange light – he looked like some kind of heavenly being.

When his eyes dart back to you, his expression instantly softened, lips tilting upwards in a smile. You thought you would melt into a puddle right there and then just by gazing into his warm, honeyed eyes. “Hi, gorgeous. What can I get you?”

You blink, your mouth involuntarily falling open slightly. Gorgeous? Was he talking to you? Maybe he was referring to the man behind you.

His smile widens, and that does absolutely nothing to calm the feeling of your heart bouncing around in your stomach. “It’s okay if you can’t choose just yet, I know the number of options can be…” he chuckles, “overwhelming. Take all the time you need to decide.”

Oh my god, you thought. His laugh sounded musical, like the tender feeling of being enveloped in a warm embrace. You’d put it on a record player and play it on loop for hours if you could.

“Hurry the fuck up –”

“One more word from you and you won’t be getting your coffee today, buddy,” the godly-looking barista snapped in a slightly louder tone at the man behind you, face contorted in irritation.

You hear silent cursing behind you, a twinge of embarrassment turning you red. You quickly glance back up. “Sorry, hi, hello. I’ll um… I…” the words were on the tip of your tongue, but seemed to dissolve when he glanced at you with those agonisingly pretty eyes and kind smile.

Snap out of it, you internally curse as you open your mouth again. “I’ll get three peanut butter-jelly donuts, and four chocolate donuts.”

“Okay. Which chocolate ones?” he asks, tapping his tongs against the display dome with stacks of donuts. There really were a lot of options – chocolate sprinkles, belgian chocolate, chocolate glazed, double chocolate – your mind seemed to freeze up for a second. Which one would Madison want?

You quickly look behind you, seeing the man’s face twisted up in what looked like rage. It seemed to be taking him all his willpower not to lash out at you, and the customers behind him didn’t look much far off.

You turn back to the counter, eyes wide with panic as you feel the blood rush to your head. You had never been good at this; thinking and choosing on the spot. That’s why Subway was always a no-go for you, that’s why Madison had specifically told you what to get her – just that she hadn’t been specific enough. “I… I’m not sure. I think, um…”

“Hey, take it easy,” you look back up to see Remus giving you a reassuring smile, a slight hint of concern on his face. Your despair must have been embarrassingly evident, then. “It’s alright if you can’t choose. Do you want me to pick for you?”

You ought to have been humiliated, the way you immediately nodded and gave in to his offer. But he just gave you an easy smile and nodded, picking up one of each type and placing them in the box.

“Thank you,” you mumble sheepishly as you move to the payment counter, fishing in your bag for a wad of notes.

“Of course,” he grins, and it was so bright you thought it could probably light up the whole cafe. “That’ll be $15.90.”

As he waits for you to pay, he takes a quick look down and begins to brush crumbs off his apron. You look up at the wrong moment, eyes immediately fixing on the curves of his biceps visible through his T-shirt, and his slender fingers.

He glances back up at you, catching a glimpse of your flustered look and instantly smirking. You look away abashedly, counting the money and handing it to him.

The brush of your fingers against his calloused palm sent a jolting shock through you as you quickly pull back, not missing the way his smile widened as he cashed the money into the register.

“Thanks for visiting, sweetheart. Hope to see you again soon.”

You don’t reply, afraid you’d crumble into a blushing, gooey mess. Flashing him a brief, nervous smile, you pick up the box of donuts before turning around and heading straight for the exit. Sweetheart.

You huff as you open the door and step outside, pulling out your phone to complain to Madison all about the stupidly handsome barista at her favourite cafe. God, he really knew what he was doing.

[hemmingsleclerc]

Worth it┃sirius black

summary: where Sirius is completely in love with James's sister, but everytime he wants to ask her on a date somehow ends up doing something embarrassing

just sirius being a dumbass in love

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ･˳ . ⋆

Sirius Black, known for his confident attitude and big ego, became a totally different person when it came to Y/n Potter, James' twin sister. From the moment he first saw her on the Hogwarts Express, he fell in love with her. Her bright eyes, her laughter that echoed through the halls, and her loyalty to her friends captivated Sirius in a way he couldn't explain.

However, every attempt Sirius made to impress her seemed to end in humiliation. Whether it was tripping over his own feet, accidentally dropping a potion in Potions class while he was trying to show off, or simply forgetting his words when she stared at him or smiled, Sirius managed to humiliate himself over and over again and the marauders found endless fun in his failed attempts.

One particularly incident occurred during a Gryffindor Quidditch match. Sirius had been practicing tirelessly, determined to catch Y/n's eye with his skills as a Seeker and impress her (again). As he zoomed across the pitch during the game against Slytherin, he spotted Y/n cheering enthusiastically in the stands. Heart pounding with nerves, Sirius dove towards the Snitch, only to misjudge his speed and crash into a ring, sending the Snitch away to the opposite end of the field. The entire stadium bursted into laughter, including Y/n, who clapped a hand over her mouth, trying to stifle her giggles.

"Nice one, Pad! Maybe next time you'll catch something other than the ground," James joked mercilessly after the match, laughing his head off, slapping Sirius on the back.

Sirius tried to laugh, but inside he felt enormous disappointment and shame. He had wanted with all his might to impress Y/n, to show her that he was more than just a prankster or a reckless troublemaker. But every time he tried, it seemed like he only managed to make a fool of himself.

Despite his repeated failures, Sirius refused to give up, she was worth it and he wasn't going to give up so easily. He found himself casting nervous glances at Y/n during meals in the Great Hall, trying to work up the courage to approach her. However, every time he decided to talk to her, his tongue would get stuck and his palms would sweat. Even simple greetings turned into awkward exchanges in which Sirius would end up stumbling over his words or making some ill-timed joke that fell flat.

One rainy afternoon, Sirius was sitting in his dorm with his friends. Peter and Remus were playing a game of wizard chess nearby while James lay on his bed playing with his snitch, occasionally casting sympathetic glances in Sirius' direction.

"You know, mate," Remus began tentatively, moving a knight on the board, "maybe you should just ask her out straightforwardly. None of this grand gesture stuff. Just be yourself."

Sirius sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I've tried, Moony. Every time I try to talk to her, I end up making a complete fool of myself. She probably thinks I'm an idiot by this point."

James chuckled "Nah, she doesn't think you're an idiot. Just a bit… charmingly clumsy as she told me."

Sirius rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help but smile at his friends' attempts to cheer him up. Deep down, he knew they were right. Maybe he had been going about it all wrong. Perhaps what Y/n needed was not grand gestures or witty banter, but simply honesty.

The next day, Sirius was walking through the black lake, letting his feet walk without any direction, however he realized that he was precisely addressing Y/n who was reading a book in front of the lake. His heart raced as he made his way over, his friends watching with anticipation from a distance.

"Here goes nothing," Sirius muttered under his breath, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves.

As he approached Y/n, she looked up and smiled warmly at him. Sirius felt his legs weak.

''Hey Y/n''

''Hey sirius, what's up?''

''everythings fine, um I wanted to ask you something''

Sirius felt his throat dry and his mind went blank.

''Are you okey sirius? you seem a bit...pale'' Y/n asked doubtfully, standing up and getting closer to Sirius.

''No! I'm good don't worry!'' Sirius was actually planning on pretending to faint, or running away.

''Okey?..Well anyways I also wanted to ask you something''

Sirius was about to open his mouth to let the words out but Y/n interrupted him.

''I was wondering if you'd like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?" Y/n said smiling ear to ear

Time seemed to stand still for Sirius. His eyes widened in shock, his mouth hanging open. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Did she just ask him out before he could ask her?

Taken by surprise, Sirius took a step back, his heart racing even more. To his surprise, he tripped on a tree root and fell to the ground with a thud.

Laughter erupted in the distance, echoing through the garden. James, Remus and Peter had been responsible for these as they were almost crying of laughter, unable to contain their amusement at Sirius's latest fall.

Sirius lay on the ground for a moment, his face burning with shame. He stood up as quickly as he could, trying to maintain some semblance of composure and dignity.

Y/n rushed over to him, concern mixing with her laughter. "Oh my god!, are you okay?"

Sirius nodded, his cheeks still flushed. "Y-yeah, I'm fine. Just… just caught me by surprise, that's all."

Y/n chuckled softly, offering him a hand up. "Sorry about that. I couldn't resist."

Despite the embarrassment, Sirius couldn't help but grin. "No need to apologize. I… I'd love to go to Hogsmeade with you."

Y/n smiled wildly, relief evident in her eyes. "Great! It's a date then."

Sirius felt a wave of relief and excitement. He had managed to get through another embarrassing moment, but this time he had turned out better than he could have imagined.

As they separated, the rest of the marauders approached him, still laughing at him. James patted him on the back, shaking his head in amusement and hugging him by the side and Sirius couldn't help but do a little victory dance.

Despite all his fumbles and embarrassing moments, he knew one thing for certain: Y/n Potter was worth every stumble and every awkward pause.

[mischievousmoony]

hello !! it is again almost 3am where i am but i cannot stop thinking at nerdy james before he gets buff from quidditch.

headcanon time; first or second year, before he knew his friends, he was like this wimpy little kid that got bullied a whole lot (especially by slytherin kids) and that's why he plays pranks on people.

but but! a request maybe of reader liking james before he got popular, but they never made it known because they're the quiet type. but as james became popular, reader stayed the same and they never really really crossed paths again. but there was a time where reader did something small for james back then which he remembered all those years and then they kiss kiss fall in love.

you can you whatever pronouns you want again for reader !!

- 🌱

took the liberty of making the reader a gryffindor hope thats ok

𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞

⟢ james potter x reader ⊹ 2.8k ⟢ warnings/tags: intoxication (not reader or james), unsolicited flirting from random guy, james is taller than r, gryffindor!reader, introvert!reader, no specific pronouns for reader used

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Secluded in a quiet corner is where you feel most comfortable at parties. Your fellow Gryffindors are a boisterous bunch, and that's never been your style, making it much easier to watch events like these from the sidelines.

This doesn't make you the most popular student in your house. It's not as though people don't like you, but they don't really know you. If they had to, the vocabulary they would use to describe you would be limited to quiet, nice, and… quiet.

You’ve always wondered if you would've fit in better in another house. Ravenclaw always seemed appealing. Or Hufflepuff maybe. But for reasons you don't understand, the sorting hat put you here. With the daring, self-assured, unreserved students that you couldn't be anymore like. But, you never really minded. As different as they are, at least they're nice.

For the most part.

"Hey, baby," one of your housemates drawls, emerging from the lively crowd and invading your corner. You can't say you remember his name as he cozies up next to you, unceremoniously situating himself against the wall. His shoulder crashes against it roughly as he says, "You look lonely over here."

His warm, beer-scented breath invades your senses and you scrunch your nose in discomfort, veering away from him as you reply, "I'm fine."

"Want some company?" he presses, surging forward to make up for the space you created and then some.

"No, thank you." It's almost annoying that your instinct is to be polite as this guy invades your personal space.

"Cos I could make for some real nice company," he adds, a sinister smirk working its way onto his face as you cringe away from him.

You're wracking your brain for a way out of this situation, when a familiar voice sounds from behind you, saving you the trouble.

"Hey, ready to head out?" James Potter says, and you have no idea what he's talking about, but at least it makes the other guy back away from you slightly.

"James," you blurt, rather dumbly, surprised at his sudden closeness.

Truthfully, you have been eyeing him from your corner; admiring the boy from afar as you have for years. Most of Gryffindor fancies him, and you're no exception. But who wouldn't have a thing for Gryffindor's valiant captain and ever confident head boy? Especially when that boy looks the way James does: standing over six feet tall with a chiseled, muscular physique (thank you, Quidditch). He seems to know it too, the way he carries himself with confidence.

His most captivating feature, though, is his bright, infectious smile. It's always been your favorite thing about him, even when it was still the shy, hesitant grin of a boy who wasn’t yet confident in himself.

"It's about time for us to get out of here, don't you think?" James smiles, baring all of his pearly whites, and he looks like something out of a dream. His eyes flick from you to the boy to your left. "Oh, hey Callaghan, didn't see you there."

"Potter," Callaghan nods in greeting. "You, uh, you know..." he trails off, gesturing aimlessly to you. You're not surprised that he doesn't know your name.

"Y/N? Course I do," James says, stepping closer to you.

But that. That's a surprise.

James towers over both of you, making Callaghan take another step back in intimidation. You're too busy being surprised to feel relieved over the space. James knows your name?

Callaghan gestures between the two of you, trying the gauge your relationship. "And you two are...?"

"Leaving," James says, offering you his hand, “Right?”

You stare at his hand, momentarily dumbfounded, before you take it, “Right.”

You feel kind of hazy as you let James lead you away from Callaghan, away from the lively party, and out into the corridor. The situation is so surreal that you wouldn't be surprised if you suddenly woke up to find it was all a dream. When was the last time you even spoke to James Potter?

"You alright?" James' voice cuts through the silence of Hogwarts' halls. Your eyes meet his concerned ones as he leans against the stone wall, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"Yeah, I'm alright," you say, still a little muddled. You snap out of it with a shake of your head, remembering your manners, "Thank you, by the way."

"Psh," he waves his hand through the air, brushing it off, "You don't need to thank me. Any person with eyes could see Callaghan was being... off putting." James scrunches his nose in judgement, pausing as if to bite his tongue, like has more to say about Callaghan but better not. "Any decent person would've stepped in. No thank you necessary."

"Well I'm thankful anyway," you say quietly, the corner of your mouth tugging upward into a small smile.

James' eyes dart to your lips, your gesture conjuring a wide smile on James' own lips. You're momentarily distracted as his tongue runs across his teeth, barely hearing him as he says, "Well, I may be reluctant to accept your gratitude because I may have had some selfish reasons behind my method."

Your lips part, twitching into the shape of various words that never leave your lips. You feel very warm all of a sudden.

James does a rubbish job of hiding the amusement in his eyes, but he is kind enough to put you out of your misery with an explanation, "I need a walking buddy. Was hoping you'd like to join me?"

You're not any less dumfounded but you manage to get the words out this time. "You want me to go on a walk with you?"

"Yeah," James says, like it's not strange at all.

"Why didn't you ask one of your friends to go?"

"You are my friend," James insists, and you cock and eyebrow.

"I was surprised that you even knew my name."

"Of course I know you! We're friends," he emphasizes.

You look at him skeptically, not sure what you did to make a friend out of him. Not that you wouldn't like to be his friend, but friends usually talk to each other. The last time James spoke to you was last year to ask if you had an extra roll of parchment. And he was more so asking the entire class, you just so happened to be the one with the parchment.

"Do you not want to be my friend?" He asks in a teasing tone, having let you stare in silent skepticism for long enough.

He's not being serious, but you panic anyway. "What!? No! I mean no I don't not want to be friends!"

He chuckles as he pushes himself up from wall. "Then walk with me, would'ya?" He nods his head off in the same direction he starts walking, expecting that you'll follow.

You do, your feet moving faster than your brain can overthink your way into a no. But as you walk next to him your thoughts catch up with you.

What are you supposed to talk about? What do you know about him? Quidditch. What do you know about Quidditch? You know lots about Quidditch. Quick, say something about Quidditch before this silence gets awkward. Why do you suddenly not know anything about Quidditch?

The effects of your racing mind are written across face, your features contorted in worry and a lasting skepticism as you glance up at James every so often.

James is glancing at you too, finding every little crease and contour from your worried look endearing as silent laughter bubbles in his chest.

"Alright, what's that face?" James finally asks, his tone as gentle as possible as not to make you uncomfortable.

Your expression softens into sheepishness. James looks at you with such kindness that you find yourself voicing your concerns.

"We're friends?" you ask in a small, hesitant voice.

James is quick to defend his claim, "I've known you since we were kids!"

"We haven't spoken since we were kids," you say.

He seems to deflate at your words, faltering as he experiences a moment of speechlessness.

"Besides," you go on, a hint of smugness creeping up on you, "we've known everyone at this school since we were kids. Does that make us friends with everyone?"

James is quick to shake his head. "Not everyone was as kind as you back then."

Any trace of smugness has been quickly expunged and replaced by a fluttering in your stomach as his eyes fill with what you would call admiration if you didn't know any better.

"And you were exceptionally kind," he adds on, not helping ease the butterflies in your stomach. "Though you're right. I should've talked to you. I don't know why I didn't talk to you more."

"It's okay," you say in a small voice, prompting you to clear your throat before you continue, "We're talking now."

James smiles that radiant, charming smile that makes you swoon. Before silence can settle over you James' face lights up as an idea pops into his head.

"Have you even been on the Quidditch Pitch at night? I mean, when there's no game going on?"

You shake your head, your eyebrows creasing as you find his question rather random. Before you've fully grasped what he's implying, he's grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the castle.

A gasp escapes your lips as he tugs you along, his enthusiasm and long strides causing him to race ahead without realizing how fast he’s moving. It's only when you're outside that you find your voice again.

"James!"

He slows his pace and drops your hand. For a moment, he looks almost embarrassed, shrugging his shoulders as he lacks an excuse for his sudden burst of energy.

You shake your head with a smile. “Some things never change. Do you ever take a deep breath and just mellow out?” you ask, noticing with amusement that he’s just as hyperactive now as he was when you were kids.

James makes a big show of taking a long, deep breath as he falls into step with you at a much more leisurely pace than before.

You shake your head again, chuckling.

"Some things do change, by the way. For example, you were taller than me back then," he says, resting his elbow on the top of your head to emphasize the difference.

You jerk your head away, playfully retorting, "Everyone was taller than you."

"Shut up!" he laughs, letting his arm fall to his side. He's close enough that his arm brushes against yours as you walk. You feel the shake of his laughs against your skin and you can't help but giggle along.

It doesn't take long to walk to the quidditch pitch. The walk felt shorter than it does on game days, but maybe that's because you didn't have James to walk with.

You follow James out to the very center of the field, where he wastes no time to plop down into the grass. "Lay with me," he says, crossing his arms behind his head. "You can see all the stars from out here," he says to convince you.

"You come out here a lot?" you ask as you sink down beside him. The grass tickles your skin as you lay down.

"I've been coming out here since I was a first year," James reveals. "I used to lay in the grass, just like this, and imagine what I would look like flying above dodging bludgers and scoring winning goals."

"Yeah?"

James hums affirmatively. "I've always loved Quidditch. Wanted to play for as long as I can remember. And then I came to Hogwarts, and Merlin, I thought the Quidditch players were so cool. Wanted to be like them so bad."

"What does it feel like?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you’re the one first years are looking up to now."

"No, they're not," James scoffs in complete disbelief.

"James," you deadpan, thinking he can't be serious. "You're the Gryffindor captain and rightfully so. One of the best chasers Hogwarts has probably ever seen. I mean, way you escaped that bludger last weekend?” you muse. “Not to mention the Chudley Chop Down you pulled off. You looked just like the professionals, it was incredible!"

James is caught at a loss for words again, a rare occurrence for him, but you've managed to make it happen twice now.

You clear your throat, realizing how you've just raved on about him to his face. You excuse yourself with, "I, um, I really like Quidditch."

James blinks away the awestricken glint in his eyes, responding, "Figured as much. Don't think I've ever played a game I haven't seen you in the crowd of. But enough about me," he continues. "What about you and your achievements, eh?”

“What are you talking about?”

"Don't be coy. You have to be the brightest witch at Hogwarts."

"No, that's–"

"C'mon I've seen the marks you get. And no one gets Gryffindor more house points in class than you do. All the professors love you; Slughorn always seats you to his right at Slug Club meetings. And I thought Minnie had a soft spot for me but then I saw how she talks to you."

"Maybe if you called her Professor McGonagall once in a while," you tease, trying to distract him from showering you with anymore compliments to spare your heart from racing any longer.

"Wouldn't matter. She likes you because you're smart. Driven too. She knows you’ll do great things after school. Everyone knows you'll be one of the most successful in our class."

"I hardly think anyone notices me,” you say, nervously ripping up blades of grass from the ground.

"I have," he says, looking at you with so much fondness it takes your breath away.

Your eyes widen, sparkling with warm astonishment at all his kind words. James notices the way your parted lips curve into a small, shy smile. Slowly, it grows into a grin.

He nudges you, "Now what's that look for?"

"This is just... unexpected."

"Unexpected?"

"I mean I didn't realize you remembered by name, let alone knew anything about me."

James' expression is tinted with disbelief. He removes his arms from behind his head as he angles his body slightly toward you, gearing towards something serious. "Of course I did. When I said you were kind to me back then, you were really the only one who was. How could I forget you?"

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise as James sighs deeply.

"Merlin, I really should have talked to you more," he says, shaking his head.

"It's okay–"

"No," he insists, "I should have talked to you more. I don't know why I didn't– I mean I do know why I just..."

You swallow hard, giving yourself time to find your voice. "There's a reason?" you ask.

James turns his head, shifting back against the grass as his gaze finding the stars above him. You can see the moon reflecting in his eyes as he bathes in its light. He looks ethereal like this.

"You make me nervous," he's able to admit in the comfort of not having to see your reaction, pretending it’s just him and the moon out here.

Your jaw goes slack. You'd sooner think you're being pranked or he's under some kind of spell than to believe his words.

"What?" you finally utter. Your hand freezes with a chunk of freshly ripped up grass held hostage between your fingertips.

James chuckles, "You were so nice to me. And I always thought you were so pretty I– every time you said something kind to me I would get so red in the face."

You're silent, at a loss for words as you try to wrap your mind around his admission. If the tips of his ears hadn't turned red, you'd think he's lying.

"I mean everything made me nervous back then," he continues. "Thank Merlin I grew out of that, but you..."

James finally looks at you again, his eyes darting across your face as he absorbs your reaction. Carefully, he takes hold of your wrist, placing your palm flat on his chest, over his heart.

"You still make my heart race," he says quietly, and you can feel the proof under your fingertips.

Words make their way past your lips almost instinctively, driven by a desire to reassure him. "I... I was too nervous to talk to you too."

The fondness in his eyes grows even warmer, and he begins tracing gentle lines on the back of your wrist with the pad of his thumb. "It's alright," he says. His tone is genuine and hopeful as he continues, "We're talking now," he repeats your words from earlier with newfound affection. "And I'd really like it if we could keep talking."

"Yeah," you say. A wave of courage washes over you, and you adjust your hand to intertwine your fingers with his. "Me too."

After that, you find yourself out here a lot more often, staring at the stars with James, your fingers intertwined. You're both much more comfortable around each other now, but from time to time, you still make each other's heart race.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[hotdamnitsmoony]

effie used to let james ‘help’ her to cook while he was growing up, but he always made much more of a mess than actually helping. when regulus moved in, he offered to help effie as a way to give something back, and she taught him everything she knew, recipes and all!

when she died, regulus started cooking for james. it took one dish of effie’s special pasta to send james into a breakdown, because his mum might be gone, but her legacy lives on.

[appocalipse]

RIGHT WHERE I WANT TO BE : ̗̀➛ SIRIUS BLACK

summary: it's only when lily accidentally spills amortentia on you and all you can smell is cigarettes and dog fur that you realize you're in love with sirius — probably the only person in the world you shouldn't be in love with.

"Oh, crap!" Lily seems on the verge of panic as she stares at the fresh stain on your clothes. "I'm so sorry!"

Somewhat shocked, you reach your hand to the front of your uniform and try to rub it away. It's no use. "It's okay," you assure her gently, relieved that the liquid didn't spill on the clean set of clothes you were folding instead, "it was an accident."

You put the clothes safely away in the trunk near your bed. They still have the fresh and clean scent of lavender. Your uniform, however…

Lily points her wand at your chest, and the stain quickly disappears. She had rushed through the entrance of the dormitory fast as lightning, crashing right into you and spilling…

Well, what exactly?

"Lily," you bring a hand to your own face, sniffing, then sniffing again. "What is this? It smells like a wet dog and-"

Your eyes meet and you immediately dislike the look on her face. Too much restrained excitement slowly bubbling up...

"-cigarettes…" you trail off, some sort of realization dawning on you way too late.

It can't be.

Lily bites her lower lip as if trying to hold back a smile. "Is that what it smells like to you?"

You also catch the scent of quill ink and freshly brewed coffee, so it can only be…

You put your hand away from your nose as if it's on fire.

"Tell me this is not what I think this is."

"If you're not thinking of Amortentia, then yes."

"Why would you brew Amortentia?!"

"For Professor Slughorn," she sees the confusion etched on your face and looks positively horrified. "Not for Professor Slughorn to drink! Ew! I said I'd like to try brewing one because it's, you know, a bit complicated and I've never tried before. He said he'd give Gryffindor some points if I succeeded. I didn't know you would… you know, smell Sirius."

"I never said I smelled him!"

"Okay! Okay," Lily raises both hands in surrender. Then, quieter, she adds, "You can pretend all you want."

You sigh. "Did you only have this vial?"

"Well, there should be some potion left in the cauldron, I think."

Great. An opportunity to escape this beyond strange situation. "I'll go get it for you."

"But I-"

You're out the Gryffindor common room before Lily has a chance to question your offer. The need to get away from that impending conversation is stronger than anything else right now.

Your heart is racing as you walk through the corridors of the castle, heading towards the dungeons, where Potions class usually take place. Each step is an effort to calm your turbulent mind and find some peace.

Upon reaching the Potions classroom, you welcome the silent space as you enter. The characteristic smell of magical ingredients and herbs fills your nostrils, bringing a familiar and almost comforting sensation… until you catch that smell. Amortentia.

You look around, searching for Lily's cauldron, which she mentioned leaving behind.

It's not hard to find; the smell is quite distinct, enchanting, all the things you love most in the world somehow united in a single aroma.

The cauldron is sitting on one of the workbenches. You approach cautiously, making sure not to knock anything over. Then you rummage through the shelves for an empty vial and pour some of the potion into it, feeling like you're doing something wrong even though Lily had Slughorn's permission.

The door opens, and you almost drop a row of glass bottles as you turn to look.

"What are you doing here?" he asks.

It's Sirius. Of course, it's him.

He closes the door behind him, and your heart skips a beat as it usually does whenever he's around. He's wearing the Gryffindor uniform, the first two buttons undone, revealing a patch of delicate skin just below his neck.

You don't need to wonder how he got there or why. Chances are, he extracted every piece of information he needed from Lily with little to no effort.

"What are you doing?" he asks calmly. You, on the other hand, don't feel calm at all.

"Nothing, just..."

"Just?" He takes a step closer, and you instinctively move away from the workbench, trying not to show the nervousness you truly feel.

"I just came to get something," you say.

Sirius gives a suspicious glance at the cauldron. "Is it a love potion?" He's a skilled wizard. Skilled enough to know the answer to that question, yet he waits for you to respond.

"Lily made it," you say defensively, holding up the vial containing the potion to illustrate your point unnecessarily.

"And what scent do you smell?" he questions, with a genuine curiosity in his tone that catches you off guard. "What does the potion smell like to you?"

"Lily told you," it's far from a question.

But Sirius has a knack for playing games.

"She told me what?"

"You know what."

This time, you step back as he advances, unable to help yourself, swallowing hard and Sirius notices. He takes another step forward, and you take another step back.

"Sirius," you warn.

In return, Sirius says your name, his tone lighter, more playful, soft as a feather. Then, another step.

You nearly bump your hip against one of the workbenches as you take another desperate step back. Sirius, being Sirius, raises an eyebrow, making no effort to hide his amusement.

It's unfair. It's simply unfair that he's so good-looking, starting at you without feeling the need to averting his gaze. "You don't have to do this," you find yourself saying.

Sirius seems genuinely puzzled.

"Do what?"

You steal a glance in your peripheral vision. The room won't go on forever; you need to say something to get out of this situation before he gets too close. You don't trust yourself near Sirius.

"Turn me down. Be all nice-" you stutter. He keeps advancing toward you. Back almost against the wall, you dodge another workbench and turn to the left, trying to prevent him from cornering you.

Sirius chuckles. "Is that what you think?"

"I'm a big girl. I can take rejection."

He glances in the direction of the cauldron. "Do you want to know what scent I smell?"

"No."

"Leather-"

"Sirius-"

"Gasoline," he raises his chin, nose in the air as if enjoying one scent after another. "Apple pie."

For a moment, you close your eyes. "Stop it."

"And lavender."

Your heart is pounding in your chest. He's not being serious, a little voice in your mind insists. It can't be serious. He's just teasing you... or maybe just being a good friend. Too good a friend.

It would be easier if he wasn't. If he were less kind to you, less handsome, less charming.

It's not easy.

You're breathless, trying to keep your distance from Sirius as he sets a slow advance, a constant tease. It's an internal battle between the desire to give in to the attraction you feel for him and the need to protect yourself — but the latter wins, for now.

"Sirius," you plead, your voice quiet, "stop"

He pauses for a moment, his gray eyes fixed on yours. "You think I'm joking, don't you? You think I'm just being nice?"

"I... I don't know, Sirius. It's so...confusing."

He takes yet another step towards you, his lips curling into a challenging smile. Always challenging. "Confusing or scary?"

The tension between you two is palpable, and you wonder if he can hear the rapid beating of your heart, threatening to break out of your rib cage any given moment. You know you're fighting your own feelings, afraid of surrendering to something that may - and probably will - end in heartbreak.

"It's not fair," you whisper, trying to keep your voice steady. "It's not fair that you're so... so-"

"So what?" he teases, closer. "So handsome? So charming? So... irresistible?"

You can tell he's somehow having fun. You don't understand how he can maintain a playful tone in a moment like this.

You catch a whiff of his cologne, feel the warmth of his body, and your heart races once again. If there's a way to prevent Sirius from getting what he wants, you don't know what it is. "So confusing," you finish, almost in a whisper. "You confuse the hell out of me."

Sirius pauses for a moment, his eyes locked with yours, and you momentarily catch a flicker of something deeper in this playful gaze. He slowly raises a hand and gently, gentler than ever, caresses your face, his fingers tracing a delicate path along your skin.

"I don't see how I could be confusing you," he murmurs, his voice soft and husky. "I thought I was being pretty clear..." It's teasing, of course it is; when it comes to Sirius, few things aren't.

But there's something else behind it, too.

The air grows heavier.

"You're not clear about anything, Sirius," you reply, your voice faltering slightly. "I never know what you're thinking. I never know what you really mean."

"Maybe you're just not paying attention."

You furrow your brow, confused by Sirius' response. He's playing with you, as he always does, but this time it feels more intense, more meaningful. You struggle against the temptation to give in completely, to say something you might not be able to take back.

"I do pay attention, Sirius," you respond, your voice showing determination you're not entirely sure you feel. "It's you who likes to make everything more difficult than it needs to be."

He moves closer once again, so close now that you can feel his breath against your skin, the tip of his nose an inch away from touching yours.

"Do you want me to be clearer?" he whispers, voice laced with a hint of his usual mischief. "Make it easier?"

You swallow, feeling your heart race. You know you can't admit your feelings for him, you can't let your defenses down. Not when he makes a point to hide comfortably behind a facade, away from anything that makes him feel vulnerable.

You need honesty.

"Yes," you whisper, your voice almost faltering. "Yes, I do."

Sirius pauses for a moment, eyes searching yours, and you can feel your breath catch in your throat. Then, slowly, he moves closer and closer still, until his lips almost touch yours.

There is a feeling that you can't quite put into words.

"I want you," he murmurs, an admission that hangs in the air like a charged electric current. "I want to be with you. I want you to be happy– I'll even accept your awful taste in music," he adds with a playful smirk, teasingly referencing your occasional guilty pleasure for a particular genre of music that he often mocks.

A laugh escapes your lips, a combination of relief and affection. His sincerity is pretty close to melting away any remaining doubts that linger in your heart. "I have great taste in music," you state playfully.

Sirius brushes the side of his nose against yours affectionately. "Sometimes," he gives in, voice filled with genuine warmth.

You lean into his touch, savoring the tenderness and intimacy of the moment. It's as if the world around you has faded away, leaving only the two of you in this bubble of shared emotions.

"Sometimes?" you raise an eyebrow, pretending to be offended.

He chuckles, a low and melodic sound that resonates deep within your chest, a sound you don't get to hear as often as you'd like. "You're lucky you're pretty," he teases, his voice filled with affectionate playfulness.

"Oh?"

"I have a soft spot for pretty girls."

You roll your eyes but can't help the smile that forms on your lips. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Black."

Sirius leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek, pulling away with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Who said I was trying to get anywhere?" he whispers, fingers trailing along the curve of your waist, drawing you closer. "I'm already where I want to be."

Your heart swells with warmth, and you can feel a blush creeping up your cheeks.

"Smooth talker."

It doesn't sound like an accusation when you're about to kiss him.

[moonstruckme]

reader making a new friend (who is a male btw) and poly!marauders get jealous and snap at reader, for example saying, ‘go hang out with ____ ‘ and reader understands and reassures them that no such thing as reader leaving marauders would ever happen.

Thanks for requesting!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 860 words

"There you are, angel!" James gushes as you walk in the door. "We've been waiting, where've you been?"

You stop short, caught offguard by the onslaught of attention as three pairs of eyes pin you in front of the door. Your boyfriends are all sitting at the table, untouched bowls of pasta in front of them and one by your empty chair.

"Sorry," you say slowly, easing your bag off your shoulder and taking off your shoes. "I didn't realize you were waiting. Liam wanted to show me some new music he's found, so I stayed late." You hustle to your chair, and James begins shoveling pasta into his mouth eagerly.

"Oh, Liam asked you to stay," Sirius says drily, stabbing at his bowl with a fork. "Awesome."

You frown. Liam started at your work a couple of months ago, and the two of you had hit it off immediately. He was funny, you liked a lot of the same things, and everyone who you'd introduced him to adored him. Everyone, except your boyfriends. "He didn't ask me to stay, I offered because I wanted to hear it. And I didn't ask you to wait up for me, either."

James swallows. "We tried to call you, and texted you a bunch," he says, and the quiet of his voice is so unlike him that your anxiety instantly heightens.

You whip out your phone, seeing missed calls and texts from each of the boys taking up the entire screen. You'd forgotten to turn the sound back on after your shift.

"I'm sorry," you say, putting it away, and you mean it, but none of the boys really seems to want to look at you.

And as quickly as your shame rose to the surface, indignation comes in to replace it. This is so unlike them. Sirius will occaisionally make a teasing comment about you leaving them for one of your celebrity crushes, but none of your boyfriends are truly the jealous type. You're in a polyamorous relationship, for Merlin's sake. This sort of possessiveness has never been part of the deal.

"What's your problem with him?" You stare them down in turn, and only Sirius is bold enough to meet your heated gaze.

"You're with him when you should be with us!" He snaps. "Just look at tonight—James made dinner, and where were you? With him! So why are you even here now? Let's just cut the bullshit, and you can go hang out with Liam."

James had...James never cooks. That always falls to you or Remus, but tonight...you look at the pasta, which you've yet to take a bite of, and you're hit with a guilt that feels like nausea. It's your favorite. James cooked it for you.

"You have been seeing a lot of him lately," Remus says quietly, and his tone is more controlled than Sirius', but you see the protective hand he sets on James' knee under the table. "And you talk about him all the time. Do you really not see why our minds would go there?"

"I didn't...you guys are serious about this?" Your voice wavers, and that gets them all to look at you. You see the truth of it in their faces, sullen and embarrassed and tense, as if apprehensive of what you'll do next. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to make you feel that way, I—fuck, Jamie, can I give you a hug?"

"Course," he says softly, and rush to him, pressing your face into his dark curls.

"Thank you for dinner, love," you say, feeling like your heart is breaking. "I didn't mean to be late, and I should have remembered to turn my phone back on, I'm so sorry. This is so lovely of you." You turn so you can see the other boys, still cradling James' head in one hand. "Liam and I are just friends, I promise. I didn't know...I thought it was just teasing, the way you talked about him. I didn't mean to let you worry. And I'm sorry if I've been blowing you off lately."

"It hasn't been that often, dove." Remus is the first to warm, looking at you kindly. "Just, could you let us know if you're going to be very late?"

You feel like your chest has hollowed out at the realization of how this has been weighing on them. "Yeah, of course." You release James to return to your seat, leaning over to press a kiss to Sirius' head as you pass him, and he rolls his eyes with a reluctance you suspect is mostly feigned by now. "You really think I could find someone better than you three? You're out of your minds," you quip, taking some pasta onto your fork and inhaling the aroma of the sauce appreciatively. You think you see James sit up a bit straighter with pride. "As if there's anyone who could give me more than what I already have. Honestly, I'm at full capacity, love-wise."

Sirius snorts, finally eating some of his own pasta. "I know. This apartment is hardly large enough for the four of us, where would Liam sleep?"

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

Is there hope in us, still? (is there something worth believing in?)

let me wrap my teeth around the world - series masterlist here

pairing: poly marauders x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.4k

genre: fluff, kinda angsty

warnings: slytherin reader, the good good post summer break mental illness, everybody's having some issues here, there will be a pt.2 next week to give it a happy happy ending but this isn't so bad, it has a hopeful ending on its own

a/n: wowie another one lol hope y'all enjoy <3

Sirius is hollow when he gets back from summer break - quiet and petulant in a way that doesn't suit him anymore, snapping at his peers and pulling away from people's touch. You can't blame him. Especially not when you're feeling the same. You're not quite as showy about it as he is, that constant, underlying desperation to keep it all hidden burning under your skin. Sirius's suffering is loud - loud enough that you always hope it will drown out yours. It never really does, as far as the other two are concerned. 

He shoves towards the door when class ends, likely stalking back to his dorm to hole up for the rest of the evening. James sighs, a hand on Remus' shoulder comfortingly as the boy stares at the doorway where Sirius just was, his brow furrowed in that worried way that he's mastered. 

"We're going to do some studying together in the common room later… see if maybe Pads feels like joining. You're always welcome to come along with us…?" James asks in that gentle way of his, patiently hopeful. You busy yourself with gathering up your books, knowing that if you look at him, you'll crumble. There is love in the way he looks at you, despite everything. You're sure that, if you take notice of it, it would be enough to condemn you these days.

"I'm going to do some work alone tonight," you say shortly, brushing past the two of them. Remus catches your arm as you try to leave, fingers wrapping around your wrist ever so gently. But when you pause, he lets go of you abruptly, like there's something wrong with his touch against yours. This is the beginning, you think. This is where I start to lose you. 

"If you change your mind…" he begins softly. You nod stiffly.

"I'll let you know." James and Remus watch as you leave swiftly, Remus rubbing the palm of his hand against his thigh, as if trying to take back the contact he'd already made with your wrist. This is where it starts, he thinks. This is where you begin to realize that I'm better when I'm left behind.

Remus has to stop himself from startling later that night when he's woken up by a cold hand shaking his shoulder. You hadn't come to study with them that evening, which wasn't surprising, but it hurt something in Remus. James, especially, had deflated, his eyes dull and his hands fidgety while he tried desperately to finish his essay, his thoughts wandering to Sirius and the dark circles under his eyes, the paleness of his skin - and then to you, to the stubborn set of your jaw and the hard look in your eyes. Looking down at his own hands, he wonders what worth they have if he can't even save the people he loves.

Needless to say, the last thing Remus was expecting was to have you in his dorm in the middle of the night, one of Sirius's sweaters shoved hastily over your pajamas as you shook him awake. You place a finger over his lips when he wakes abruptly, climbing up next to him without so much as a word as he fumbles to find his wand on his nightstand, casting a silencing spell over the four-poster bed.

"What's going on, dove?" he asks, his hands itching to hold your face, to smooth his thumbs over the skin of your cheeks and soothe you in some way. But he resists - you're here, in his bed, looking at him like you need him, and the last thing he wants is to overwhelm you and have you scared away. The last thing he can bear to do is put his hands on you, his scars glinting against unblemished skin -  something ruined touching something holy.

"I just… couldn't sleep. I'm not - I haven't been sleeping well these days," you respond, and Remus is sure that if he could see you clearly, if he weren't squinting at you through the dark, you'd be shying away, face tilted away from his eyes, away from any kind of vulnerability.

"Well," he says carefully, reaching out to put a hand on your knee. You don't pull away, to his relief. In fact, you relax a bit into it, letting your posture slouch. "Stay here then, yea?" Much to Remus's delight, that's all it really takes for you to move forward, pulling the blankets back to settle underneath them. He joins you, of course, settling in next to you and letting you decide how much - or how little space to leave between your bodies.

When you reach your hand over, cupping his cheek in your palm and smoothing your thumb over the skin there, he feels a part of him melt in the relief of it, a part of him that didn't realize quite how much he'd missed your touch - your love. He cups his hand over yours, tilting his head to press a series of kisses across your palm. When you continue to let him, sagging further into the pillows, he keeps going, trailing kisses up and down each finger and finishing with your thumb. 

It's then that you pull him closer, tilting your own face up to place your own gentle kiss to his lips before thumping your head against his chest. He lets you, of course, keeping his hand tangled up with yours while the other wraps around you. Before you can sleep, though, he leans close to whisper near your ear.

"James has been wondering where the invisibility cloak disappeared to. I'm sure he'll be pleased to know you're the one who ran off with it." You can't help but smile at his words, your face still pressed against his chest.

"You have so little faith in me, Rem. Not everyone needs the cloak to sneak around in this castle."

"But you did steal it, didn't you?'

"…I'll give it back to him later." Remus huffs out a quiet laugh at your confession, pulling you closer and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

"You know he doesn't mind," he soothes. You squeeze his hand in thanks where your fingers are still interlocked.

"Goodnight, Rem… and thank you for this."

"No need to thank me, love. I don't mind at all."

Something clatters to the floor on the other side of the locked bathroom floor and Remus frowns, staring at it like he can burn a hole big enough to see Sirius on the other side - to make sure he's ok. James drapes himself over Remus's back where they're sitting on James's bed together, his arms wrapping tightly around his waist. Remus lets him, leaning back against him and feeling James sigh at the weight of it, a bit of tension draining from him.

"Were they really here last night? They really came and spoke with you?" James says, his face buried in Remus's neck, a desperate sort of lilt to his voice. Tell me there is hope, he thinks. Tell me I can fix this, still.

"You saw the note they left, love," Remus lets his eyes settle on his nightstand where you'd left the invisibility cloak, a note folded on top with a simple thank you written in it, a heart scrawled next to it that he recognized as yours. The whole thing almost made up for the fact that, by the time Remus had woken up, you'd already been gone.

"Do you think… things will be better now? At least a bit? Were things better last night?" James asks, his arms tightening around Remus's waist. Remus, in an act of reassurance, wraps his fingers around one of James's hands and squeezes gently as Sirius stalks out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him and stomping away.

"I do think things are getting better. It's… slower than you and I would like, I know. But all we can is love them - and that, my dear Prongs, I know you can do." James grumbles something unintelligible at the compliment, his face still hidden from view. Remus is sure that, if he could see it, he'd be greeted by the flushed red of James's cheeks. He settles for bringing one of his hands up to press kisses across it, instead, content to bring a bit of hope back to the person he loves - to do something good with this body of his. 

There is hope, he thinks, in this love they all share. There is something here to fight for, still.

[lovings4turn]

☆ tw: drug use / smoking

high sex with remus... you're both blissed out, the weed casting a hazy cloud around you both as you sit in his lap. his already loose jeans are pulled just below his waist as he lazily fucks up into you, one hand in your hair as the other lazily traces circles on your clit. though his eyes are lidded and his hair is falling into his eyes, his gaze is still trained on you, watching your every gasp and whimper. he's talking you through it, unsure of what he's even saying at this point, his mind a fog as he grunts out a 'so fucking good f'me'. despite how relaxed you both are, remus' hips snap against yours with urgency as he chases his high. it's when his fingers tug uncharecteristically harshly at your hair that you know he's finished, and you follow soon after. of course, you sit with him still inside you as you both catch your breath (and maybe even fall asleep before he's able to clean you up)

[moonlightspencie]

you don’t listen + remus

i didnt know whether to make this angst or silly. i will let you, dear readers, have the pleasure of figuring it out in real time

pairing: remus lupin x gn!reader

(three word sentences)

––––––––––

Remus huffed a breath, shaking his head with his hands on his hips. "You don't listen!"

You scoffed, sitting up on his bed and staring at him. "Excuse me?"

"It's like every time I try to talk, you zone out and don't listen to a word I say."

You swallow, floundering for words for a moment. He wasn't wrong, after all. Just now, when he was talking about his classes, you were totally preoccupied. You supposed it was fair for him to accuse you, but you frowned nonetheless.

"I'm sorry, I just..."

"Did you even hear a single thing I just said?"

"No," you admit quietly.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Well, it's not my fault!" you exclaim.

"How is that not your fault?"

"You're the one who took your shirt off in the middle of speaking to me!"

He scoffed this time, crossing his arms over his bare chest. Now he was at a loss for words.

"I–" he looked around, then set a firm gaze back on you. "That's ridiculous. You've seen me with much less."

"Doesn't mean it stops being distracting," you grumble, pouting.

He rolls his eyes, walking up to you. He takes your jaw in his hand, pressing a kiss to your lips. Then, he brushes his thumb over your pouty bottom lip.

"Quit pouting."

"You're mean."

"And you're insatiable," he kisses your lips once more. "Last time I try to talk about anything when you're making googly eyes at me."

You chuckled, leaning into his touch. "You'd think you would learn your lesson by now."

[sunnami]

the marauders as. . . whatever love languages these are (iii).

“hey, pay attention to me.”

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 thinks he might wilt if your eyes are not on him, for even a fraction of a second. to deprive him of your voice and laughter is like denying a starving man at death’s door of food and water. look away from him and his soul will howl in search of its other half. the others can stare all they want, but it’s him who gets to drink up the words from your lips—the giggles and the breathy murmurs like it’s honey dripping from your tongue. his animagus form might be a stag, but he hoards you desirously as a dragon would with its acquired treasures. 

james is the epitome of confidence. he is born from magic and he had taken to a quidditch broom like an osprey soaring the skies without fear. but the crowd chanting his name means nothing, the thrill of the game—wind in his hair as he chases after the golden snitch. it’s for naught if you aren’t there to watch. the adrenaline is nothing compared to the spike in his heartbeat when he sees you in the stands; wearing his colors, cheering for him—his name falling from your pretty lips. 

the gryffindor tower is pervaded by a celebration in james’s honor—teeming with students from various houses, neckties of yellow, green, and blue loosely dangling around their shirt collar; gillywater and pumpkin juice in their hands, muggle pop music blasting through the charmed radios. but james wholly prefers to be with you in your room, far away from the festivities; intoxicated by your whimpers and murmured praises as he situates himself between your thighs, indents of his hands on your skin. he’s desperate. james is on his knees like you’re a celestial being meant to be worshiped—and, he’ll happily do so. you could send him to his demise and james will still find himself at the altar. 

but, james potter is only human, and even arrogant flames can be extinguished. he clings to you in the mornings, burying his nose in your scent. you’re well-loved from the night prior. he hopes you understand that you’ve ruined him for anyone else. so please, he begs in the quietude of dawn, don’t look at anyone else. he’s afraid of losing you to another—to someone calmer, more steadfast and predictable. 

but another day passes, and you still look at him with that pretty smile of yours. holding him with such tenderness that calms the whirlwind of his thoughts. 

a week slips by, then a month, followed by a year—until it’s ‘for the rest of our lives.’ 

“thank you,” he’ll say, lowering his head on your lap, nearly trembling as he grasps for your hands; tears threatening to fall from his eyes. vow after vow, he offers everything that he is, everything that he has. his wealth and his fame. his soul—all for you. (please take care of it well, he’s easily hurt.) 

“for choosing me,” he lays the words bare. for when it comes to you, james potter is nothing but sincere and devout.

a/n: the world yearns for james potter to be real...

[sun-kissy]

Hi, i wanted to request a james potter x reader thingy :))

So the idea is that james and reader broke up during hogwarts/directly after because they had the children talk, james really wants to be a father but reader is terrified of pregnancy so they break up. But over the years the reader keeps yearning for james and eventually they meet again when james and lily are together and have baby harry and its just really angsty 😭😭

Hope all of this makes sense i thought of this while listening to a song lyric

thank you for the request babe i love how your brain works <3 this is quite angsty so hopefully you like it! and now i’m curious to know what song 👀

also here’s some shameless promotion for @astonishment’s series with the same name, it’s deliciously tragic (☹️☹️☹️) and everyone should check it out!!

in another life | j.p.

“Calm down, babe,” Sirius mutters as you walk in step, looping his arm through yours.

You nibble on your bottom lip anxiously, sighing as you glance over at him. “It’s not that easy, Siri. I’m seeing him after what — four years? I can’t just calm down!”

He rolls his eyes, reaching towards you and thumbing at your lip to save it from your torment. “You’re seeing me after four years.”

You turn to Sirius, and he huffs out a laugh at your deadpan expression. “Well, you never asked me to marry you.”

Sirius wiggles his eyebrows, his lips curving up into a grin. “Marry me?”

“Fuck off, Black.”

James and Lily Potter were holding a meet-up of sorts, and had invited most people in your year at Hogwarts. You were hesitant to go, given your history with James, but Sirius insisted you tag along. You knew he, Remus, and Peter had stayed in touch with James. Rightfully, you ought to have too. But neither of you tried to; maybe you both knew it was better that way.

Sirius simpers, coming to a halt in front of the large black gates of the mansion. He reaches forward and begins to twist the lock, and you instinctively reach over and grab his hand to stop him. He turns to you, confusion twisting his features. “What are you — oh. Oh, sweetheart.”

He softens when he sees the expression on your face. You’re biting your cuticles, and the anxiety in your features is palpable. Sirius sighs and firmly pulls your hand away from your mouth, intertwining your fingers together. “It’s gonna be okay. Just be cordial with him. There’s no bad blood, right?”

“Right,” you mutter, albeit uncertainly.

“But, um…” he sighs, dropping your hand to rake his fingers through his hair. “There’s something I should’ve told you before. But I didn’t wanna freak you out.”

“What?”

The apprehension in your tone causes Sirius to wince. “James and Lily, they… they’ve got a baby.”

There’s a beat of loud silence as the fact sinks in, a mount of uncertainty and hurt settling in the pit of your stomach.

“Oh.”

You’re trying not to show it, but the heartbreak on your face is painfully obvious. Sirius pouts, moving to take your hand again. “Babe, I’m sorry. I should’ve –”

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, the gates swinging open to reveal a beaming James Potter.

“Pads,” he grins immediately, eyes locking on Sirius as he moves towards him and swoops him into a quick hug.

You take the moment to look James over. He looked exactly like you remembered — messy curls, toned biceps, that movie-star grin. Yet something felt different, in the way he pulled Sirius into a hug without all the raucous fervour he would’ve at 16, how he held him so gently at arm’s length while talking to him. He’d softened, you realised, from the responsibilities of fatherhood and being a husband.

They pull apart a moment later, and his gaze drifts to you. His smile loses a bit of its sunshine, not softening but not quite dimming either. “Y/n, hey.”

There’s a moment of hesitation as he looks at you, but then he seems to decide upon giving you a hug too.

“Hi,” you mutter as he shortens the distance between you, needling his arms under yours to press them to your back. You embrace him in return, and a sudden pang of hurt shoots through your heart at the familiarity of the action.

Perhaps he was remembering it too, from the way he tightened his grip. Both of you were heavy on physical touch, and it was undeniably the best part of your relationship back in Hogwarts — how he’d always have a hand wrapped around your waist, how you’d wake up to cuddles and hugs every morning. You didn’t exactly have anyone to hug anymore, living alone.

So you convince yourself that the reason you hold on to James for slightly longer than necessary was because you craved human touch, not because of… anything else.

Finally, James pulls away, his arms dropping to his sides as he gives you a small smile. You plaster one onto your face too, for his sake. “So,” he starts as he turns around, beginning to lead you and Sirius into the mansion, “how’ve you been, Y/n?”

You can feel Sirius’ gaze burning holes into the side of your head, but choose to ignore him. “I’ve been great, yeah. You?”

James nods. “That’s cool. Yeah, I’ve been good too. Things have been fun, but kind of busy; you know, with work and Lily and the baby…” He seems to realise what he’s said, and clears his throat awkwardly. Oh, of course. The baby.

Sirius is beside you in an instant, arching his eyebrows and nudging your elbow to respond.

“Oh, um… congrats on the baby, by the way.”

James turns around to face you as you walk, and you give him a grin to prove that you’re being genuine — to show him that it didn’t feel like there was a knife being twisted in your gut every time the word baby was brought up.

His eyes soften, and you know he can tell how you’re feeling. But he gives you a grateful smile, and says no more as the three of you come to a stop in front of the house.

“By the way,” James mutters as he pushes the door open, “you guys are like, an hour early. You’re the only ones here.”

You immediately turn around to glower at Sirius for subjecting you to more torture than necessary by bringing you early. But he all but smirks as he follows you in.

Your eyes coast around the mansion, taking it all in. It’s decorated in a minimalist aesthetic, white couches and brown rugs. It was pretty, that was for sure; but you couldn’t help but think how different it was from James’ place in the dorm — posters and stickers all over the walls, boisterously red curtains and LED lights. It used to be so full of life.

Honestly, you might’ve guessed an old couple lived here, if not for the small signs of their life as a family — the pacifier on the dining table, a cradle at the far end of the living room, and the heart-shaped photo frames lining the walls.

James watches you, a small smile playing on the edges of his lips. “You like it?”

He knows you wouldn’t like it, it’s everything you aren’t. Your dorm had been just like his; trying to fit as many vinyls and posters onto that small space next to your bed as possible. There would be fairy lights in every corner and succulents on the nightstand, a dreamcatcher which he’d gifted you hanging right above your bed. You were messy, as a person, and with your love too. You thought he was messy as well; but apparently he’d gotten his shit together already.

“Yeah, it’s simple. Pretty.”

“Honey —“ Lily bustles out the kitchen, a small gasp escaping her lips as she sees you and Sirius. She’s holding a ladle in one hand, and has her other arm wrapped around a baby perched on her waist.

You don’t register it when she kisses your cheek and hugs you, asks you how you’re doing and leads you to sit on the couch. Your gaze is locked on the baby, every second spent staring at him worsening the nauseous feeling at the back of your throat.

You must’ve asked for his name, because the word, “Harry,” registers in your head. This beautiful baby, with Lily’s deep green eyes and James’ luscious curls, was Harry.

Would you have named your baby Harry? Probably not, it was too generic. But it was too late now, to pick out names and choose a less boring aesthetic for a house together.

You had lost your chance back in seventh year, that night when you were laying on James’ bed, limbs tangled together as he raked his hands through your hair with all the love in the world. You’re gonna be my husband one day, you’d whispered, feeling so much affection for him you thought your heart would burst. Yeah, baby, he’d replied with a soft smile. We’re gonna live in a mansion, with our dogs and children and —

Children?

I don’t… I don’t want children. And that’s where it all started going downhill, that’s the moment James’ smile turned upside down and his hand dropped from your hair. It had turned into an argument, a screaming match — and eventually a reason to break up. James couldn't understand much you feared it, the pain of pregnancy and the exhaustion that came with motherhood. And some part of you knew that you weren’t blameless either — calling him awful things and accusing him of not loving you; though love was all he ever gave till the day you told him it was over.

The feeling of Sirius’ nails digging into your palm brings you back to the present, and you see him nodding absentmindedly as Lily rambles about how much trouble Harry’s been, and oh, she’s picked up a hobby of crocheting, and…

You flit your eyes to look at James sitting opposite you, gazing at you with his brows pinched in concern. Your emotions must’ve been obvious on your face, then. But he immediately looks away when Lily calls out to him, holding up Harry for him to carry.

You watch silently as James squeezes into the chair next to his wife, taking the small, lovely baby between his large, calloused hands. He smiles at Harry, looking at him though he was the most precious thing on earth. James’ fingers bunch Harry’s tiny shirt as he brings him close to his face, gently pressing a kiss to his forehead. Lily’s head lolls onto James’ shoulder as he shifts Harry into a comfortable lying position in his arms.

There you have it. The perfect family, with the gorgeous wife and the adorable baby and the man who could’ve been yours if you wanted.

It’s too much for you to take, and Sirius squeezes your hand as you start to shake. Harry coos, and you melt at how James’ face breaks into a sunny beam. He tilts his head to press a soft peck to his wife’s hair, and there’s so much love in that simple gesture that you feel like you could die.

You feel Sirius’ worried gaze on you, your hands trembling and your knee bobbing up and down. The taste of blood from how hard you’re nibbling on your lip is grounding; it brings you back to yourself, who you are, and not who you could’ve been.

“Hey,” he murmurs softly from beside you, but it doesn’t get lodged into your brain. The only thing you feel is your vision of the perfect family blurring, soft streams of regret rolling down your cheek. Sirius makes a small noise of pity from beside you, and James looks up instantly, eyes widening as they lock on you. Lily is fast asleep, baby Harry staring at you with his thumb stuck into his mouth.

“Y/n, you okay?” James asks gently, but you don’t reply, still looking at him with that distraught look on your face. You open your mouth, but you don’t seem to have the vocabulary to express the heartache you felt right that moment. It felt strangely like grief; like you were mourning for the version of yourself you never got to meet, for the version of James who didn’t have the chance to be yours.

James' mouth twists downwards in a frown as he stands up and steps closer towards you. It’s like an alarm is set off in your head, and you immediately jolt back to the present, sucking in a deep breath.

Your legs act of their own accord as you stand up, Sirius’s hand falling limp on the couch as he looks up at you in surprise. You gulp down the lump in your throat and fiercely brush the tears away, James coming to a halt in front of you. “Y/n, baby —“

“I’m not your baby.”

James slaps a hand to his mouth, eyes as wide as Harry’s now. “Fuck, no, it — it just came out. I didn’t mean to. Shit, you’re crying.”

“I’m okay,” you warble. James opens his mouth to retort but you don’t let him, knowing that the longer you spent here, the more the gaping hole in your chest would grow. You couldn’t bear it anymore, watching James with his wife and wishing it was you instead. The worst part was that it was all your fault, your stupidity and your rejection.

“I’m fine, really. I…I’m gonna go now, it was nice meeting you. Convey my love to Remus, Peter and the girls.” You pick up your bag, moving to the front door with a befuddled James tracking your movements.

“Y/n —“

“Bye, James,” you call out halfheartedly as you slip into your shoes. He comes to stand at the door, rocking Harry from side to side. He looks almost disappointed as you make to leave.

“I’m sorry.”

You look up, surprised. “It’s not your fault.”

James’ lips pursed together with guilt, seeming like he wants to say something as he opens and closes his mouth. He finally sighs, “It’s not your fault either.

It was startling, how he still knew just the right thing to say — he always had. The regret that had been clogging up your heart for years was drained out upon hearing that one sentence. James didn’t hold the utter failure of your relationship against you, and that was enough. If you couldn’t have his love, at least you had his forgiveness.

You give him a half smile and nod, turning around to leave. You’d go back to yours, more of a house than a home. But at least no one but yourself could hurt you there, there was no one to turn away and no hearts to break. No one to love.

“Hey.”

You spin back around to face the door, heart stopping upon seeing the moistness in his eyes. You hear the scratchiness in his throat as he sucks in a deep breath.

“James…”

“No, don’t — don’t say anything. I just wanted to tell you, um…” he defeatedly runs a hand through his hair and exhales shakily. “I hope we worked out, you know, in another life.”

That catches you off guard, your heart involuntarily squeezing in your chest. James looks almost embarrassed as he says it, but you see the vulnerability in his eyes. He was right — maybe there was some planet on which you were less of a coward, another world where he could put a ring on your finger. He’d been yours to lose in this life, perhaps he was yours to love in another.

You clear your throat, feeling nausea brimming in the pits of your gut. “Yeah, I… I hope so too.”

You spare yourself one last glance at him before turning towards the exit, praying he didn’t see the tears dribbling down your cheeks.

You squeeze your eyes shut and will yourself to trudge forward, before he can call out to you and break your heart all over again.

In a few long strides, you’re out the gates; out of James’ life again.

[rxsilabeth--er]

oooffffffffffff that reminded me of this post

"i should be tied up with a vibrator on my clit, getting soooo overstimulated from cumming over and over and just waiting for daddy (let it be mommy) to get home from work so he can finally turn off the vibe and stretch open my soaked pussy instead <3"

Like why is that such a slutty thing that Reg would definitely write in his diary and you would read it????

Only if it's okay with you, of course! I'm just a sucker for your writing!

OH MY GAH! I LOVE THIS~ You seriously ate..

I'm just imagining you with Regulus in a submissive head-space who proudly shows off his diary and his works written in and you read them, until you say you actually want to try and he gets all shy and goes,

"No-no, no, mommy I didn't mea-mean it literally! I don-don't even think I can sta-stay like that!" he would whine but not even stop you if you pulled him in and just put a bullet vibrator to his clit and left him there as you turned on some movie, refusing to give him ANY attention as he simply cries, whining and trying to get you to do something.

Until he simply cums, but he doesn't like to cum because you're not paying attention to him, praising him, kissing him or even guiding him no matter how experienced he may be, he enjoyed it when you guided his hips..

Crying he was refusing to let his body cum, but not like he could keep it longer, his cunt gushing over your thigh as he crawled on your thigh, trying to get your attention as you simply waved him, as he came again..

You definitely did not pay attention for the entirety of his orgasms, of-course he would never dare to disobey your words and take off the vibrator, unless it was you who did it.

Until you finished your movie and even a season of your favourite show, did you finally pay attention to him, completely spent, his cunt going numb, as you softly removed the vibrator and shoved your fingers in or you cock, your choice, it's being greedy and so sopping wet. Or you'll just let him ride your thigh and finally pay attention, kissing him while he rode you or your thigh..

At this point, the sofa was soaked and his juice dripping down the leather onto the floor as he cried in your neck, his cunt was hurting but the pleasure was not stopping either..fuck he fucking loved you and loved being fucked by you..

[mischievousmoony]

hi i saw your request were open, and i really love you’re work and i was wondering if you could do something with james where the reader talks very quickly and quietly and often is told that she needs to speak up. and james always knows what she says and its kinda just fluffy? no worries if you don’t want to write!! have an amazing night/day

- 🪷

is this my first emoji anon? 🤭 thank u love, i had a lot of fun with this request

𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚞𝚙

⟢ james potter x reader ⊹ 1.9k ⟢ warnings/tags: not bully per say but other students are rude, fluff

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Miss. Y/L/N, have you found a group to work with?" Professor McGonagall asks as students around you huddle in groups of four whilst you stand alone at your desk, packing your things.

You mumble a response as you stuff your books into your bag, attempting to flee the scene as fast as possible. It wasn't anything to do with Professor McGonagall, but rather the fact that you always felt a little scrutinized when talking to anyone in a position of authority.

McGonagall squints as she tries to decipher your words. She finds herself having to make a guess.

"If not, I am more than happy to assist in finding–"

"She's with us, Professor!" James jogs over, returning from enlisting members for your group. As you straighten out your leafs of parchment, James starts packing away your ink and quill for you.

"And 'us' entails?" Professor McGonagall questions.

With a casual flick of his thumb over his shoulder, James gestures to a pair of Ravenclaws standing by the door.

"Very well," McGonagall hums in approval before walking off to ensure any other stragglers have found a group before they depart.

James would prefer to have Sirius and Remus as the other half of your group, but McGonagall has permanently banned James and Sirius from working together ever since they turned a simple demonstration into their own personal stand up comedy gig, resulting in some arguably intentional mishaps in their spellwork.

You've just latched your bag closed when James takes it from you and slings it over his shoulder without giving it much thought. He’s always absentmindedly doing you little favors, like it's his second nature.

"So, Cody has nothing better to do on a Friday night, why am I not surprised?" James says teasingly. "He’s insisting we hit the library and get a head start on the project. You free right now?"

"I'm free," you confirm, looking over James' shoulder at your group mates.

You hate group projects for a multitude of reasons. At least with most Ravenclaws— especially the two you're partnered with, Cody and Isla— you don't have to worry about them not carrying their weight.

This makes your main concern having to work with people you don't know that well. All you did know about them is that they're the kind of Ravenclaws that other Ravenclaws say give them a bad rap. They have a raging superiority complex, and you’d be surprised that James is okay to work with them if you didn't know him. That boy thinks he can make a friend out of anyone, save for some rivals he has in Slytherin.

So, you’re mostly surprised that they want to work with the two of you, but that probably has something to do with James being at the top of the class. Otherwise, they wouldn't normally branch out to students outside of their house.

You suddenly feel uneasy, realizing that for this project, you’ll be the student that the others are weary of not pulling their weight. You feel your hands get clammy over the potential judgement running through Cody and Isla's heads as James leads you over to them.

"Are we going or what?" Cody asks rather unmannerly.

James opens the door for everyone, "Lead the way."

You filter out into the hallway. Soon, the four of you fall in step with each other as James throws an arm around your shoulders.

"How long are we planning to spend on this today?" Isla asks.

"Well, if we dedicate the afternoon to it, we could get all of the research out of the way in one go." Cody responds.

James meets your eye with a sideways glance, and an entire conversation is shared through a couple facial expressions.

His lips curl into a knowing half-smile, See? No plans.

Your eyes twitch with amusement before they shift toward the pair. A microscopic scrunch of your nose conveys, I don't want to spend the whole day with these people.

His face contorts, Me neither, and he shakes his head, we can't anyway.

Your head tilts curiously.

"We have plans later," James verbalizes.

"We do?"

“Sirius got his record player repaired.” James smirks, “And I may have some butterbeer and a certain record waiting for us back at my dorm.”

Your eyes widen with excitement, “James, you didn’t!”

“Oh, but I did.” James says proudly.

“Sorry,” Cody interrupts, “you can’t work on the project tonight because you have to go listen to music?” Cody asks, and the rhetoric nature and judgmental tone are lost on you.

You dive into an explanation on how it’s not just any music, but your favorite band’s brand album. And not just that, but the limited edition record complete with bonus tracks not available anywhere else.

The record was wildly out of your budget and although record stores far and wide all received copies, they didn’t receive very many. You had accepted that you would likely never get your hands on a copy, but you hadn’t accounted for James’ readiness to move mountains at your whim.

You excitedly speak about your favorite band and everything you know about the new record, and it’s like you can’t get the words out fast enough. James listens intently, grinning widely and nodding along with your every word, interjecting occasionally with commentary of his own. You're too busy raving to notice the shared look between Cody and Isla.

"Is this supposed to be a private conversation or are we expected to understand you?" Isla sneers as the four of you reach the library doors.

James' grin falters as watches your excitement fade. You mumble out an apology, which James found completely unnecessary.

His tone flattens out from amused to deadpanned as he addresses Cody's earlier question, both to alleviate some attention from you and to deliberately ignore Isla, "We'll stay for an hour, maybe two. But after that, yeah, we're going to go listen to music with our friends."

Ever the gentleman, even when annoyed, he holds the library's door open for everyone. He eyes the back of Isla's head with offense as she passes, but his eyes soften when you walk through next.

The four of you quickly find a table, as not many are occupied to begin with.

James musters up a semblance of professionalism as he forces himself to stop glaring at Isla as she and Cody begin to discuss a plan for the project. Cody takes it upon himself to divide up areas of research without consulting the rest of the table.

"Hold on," James' brows furrow at his audacity, "What if I don't want to be in charge of researching the wand mechanics? And Y/N has an exceptional understanding of magical theory, she should be in charge of the magical formulas."

Cody and Isla's eyes fall on you and this time you don't miss their criticism.

"You have an exceptional understanding of magical theory?" Isla's face contorts into that familiar sneer.

James doesn't try to hide the way he rolls his eyes. He nudges you, "What was it you were saying earlier? The idea you had for the project?"

You gulp before you dive into an explanation. It feels like Cody and Isla were burning holes through you with their stares, so you try to distract yourself by gazing down at your hands as you them wring together.

In the middle of your explanation—

"Couldn't you at least look up so that I might have a chance at reading your lips?" Cody grumbles.

If looks could kill, James Potter would be a wanted man.

"S- sorry," you practically squeak. You do look up, but the glare on Cody's face intimidates you into mumbling even more. Even the most skilled lip reader wouldn't have a clue as to what you are saying.

"Merlin, could you just speak up?" Cody snaps his fingers in your face and your words die in your throat.

James suddenly wishes he had a beater's bat handy.

"Oi! Get your hand outta her face!" He raises his voice to levels that would surely attract Madam Pince's shushing any minute.

Cody retracts his hand but stands by his actions, "We'll hardly get anything done today if she can't even speak clearly. How do you expect me to deal with this?"

"Alright then, new plan," James says through gritted teeth. He stands abruptly, and his chair scrapes loudly across the floor as it shoved back by his sudden ascent. "The two of us will research the wand mechanics and magical formulas on our own, you two can have the rest. I'll let you know where we'll go from there next class."

James' hand finds yours in a grip that is surprisingly gentle considering the way he is currently conducting himself. He tugs on your hand, prompting you to rise from your own seat.

"You're just going to leave?" Isla asks.

At the same time, Cody protests the plan, "There's no way that I'm accepting that."

"Well, Cody, if you wanted to be in charge, then I guess you shouldn't have been such a cun–"

"James!" This time you're loud enough to speak over James' biting words.

"See you in class" are James' parting words to the very stunned Cody as he pulls you away from the scene.

Once in the hall, James can't help himself from raging over Cody's behavior.

"What a slimy git! Who does he think he is?"

You squeeze the hand that James still has wrapped around yours as he tugs you through the halls.

"James," you call gently.

"Don't know why I said yes to working with them. They basically cornered me, I'll have you know! I should've ran the other way when I saw them–"

"James," you try again, more firmly.

"Maybe if we talk to Minnie on Monday we can get our group switched. You don't suppose we can work with Sirius and Remus considering these extenuating circumstances?"

You dig your feet into the floor, "James!" you call out one last time, finally earning his attention.

James spins to face you, his hold on your hand not letting up.

"Yeah?"

"Calm down, would you?" You're voice comes out tinged with laughter.

James' troubles melt away at the sound of your laughter. His eyes search your face for any sign that it's false.

"You're not upset?" he asks, knowing you've been sensitive in the past to people's commentary on the way you talk.

"No, the look on Cody's face when we stormed away was healing enough."

This earned a laugh from James, "It was pretty satisfying."

James gives your hand another tug so that you fall into step with each other again. He only drops his hold on you to sling his arm over your shoulders.

"Dunno why people become such dunces around you." A playful smirk dances on James' lips, "Distracted by that pretty face, maybe, whereas I know how to multitask."

You shake your head at his antics, but your lips can't be stopped from curling into a grin.

"I can't deny the fact that you're the only one who seems to always hear me."

In the past, you've considered the possibility that James can always tell what you're saying because you feel more comfortable around him than anyone else, prompting you to speak more clearly. In actuality, James doesn't even need your words to know what you're thinking. He's known you for a long time, and he's spent every minute of it learning everything there is to know about you. By now, he might know you better than he knows himself.

"I guess I just might be the luckiest guy around, then, that I don't have to miss a second of your charm."

You sigh at his teasing and knock your shoulder into his, completely missing the genuine adoration in his eyes as he studies the way you smile at his words.

He can't wait to see how your smile looks when you find out that record he got you is signed.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[hotdamnitsmoony]

my wolfstar headcanons <3

remus learned to braid just so that he could do sirius’ hair when he’s having a bad hair day.

sirius carries an extra chocolate in his pocket in case remus needs some. he also has mint humbugs because remus likes them and so does he

remus is often subjected to “makeovers” by sirius and enjoys it every time, even if sirius nearly pokes his eye out with eyeliner.

sirius pre makes remus’ toast and tea on the mornings before and after the full moon.

on the nights where sirius can’t sleep, remus reads to him until he drifts off (often while playing with his hair).

when sirius learnt how to play guitar, he learnt remus’ favourite songs first because he wanted to impress him.

remus naturally runs very warm and sirius runs cold, so in winter when sirius is complaining about how cold he is, remus lets him sleep snuggled up next to him.

once remus has finished reading a book, sirius asks him questions about it and lets him just ramble about it for however long he wants and sirius loves it.

remus took astronomy classes more seriously when he started dating sirius because he wanted to know where to find him in the sky.

sirius has to go on his tip toes to kiss remus and it’s the sweetest.

[writtenbymoonflower]

Hi, if possible could you write a polyMarauders x Reader where she just lost her dog that she had since she was little, and the boys comfort her?

No pressure if you do not want to do this.

I had to euthanize my own dog(Bobby) this morning, he would have turned 13 this summer and I miss him terribly.

Could use soms comfort from the boys.

Love your writing btw. Hope you have a nice day.

Hi lovely! I'm so so sorry for your loss. I've had to put a dog to sleep before so I know how painful that is. If you ever need to talk my DMs are open. poly!marauders x fem!reader

cw: loss of a pet

419 words

You were numb as you left the vet clinic, cheeks tacky with dried tears and mascara. You had expected to be distraught, screaming and disconsolate, but it was as if all fervor had left the minute the shot was administered. And in its place was a throbbing and fierce ache. Your hands had shook the whole trip there, but now you were stony and lithe, it was honestly distressing to your boyfriends. 

You wordlessly got in the car, still holding onto your dog's personal effects like a vice. If you loosened your grip, you were certain that the distance would grow, and you were holding on to any closeness you could find. Even though you were sandwiched in the backseat between James and Sirius, you felt miles away. Some part of you hoped that you were still with him, and that even though you couldn’t feel him, he could feel you, together and far away. You gave one last longing look as Remus put the car into drive, a pinch in your chest as the building got smaller and smaller in your view. Soon, Sirius blocked your view of the window with his face. Usually, you wouldn’t complain, but now it made tears cloud your vision again. 

“I feel like I’m leaving him.” Your voice was pitchy and watery. Under any other circumstance you would feel inordinate amounts of shame, but you were too hollow to care at the moment. Sirius’ features screwed up in pain too. 

“I know, baby.” James pet your hair so gently you could scream. “He doesn’t feel like that though.” You turned your glassy eyes toward him. The present tense he was using tugged your heart.

“I know that he felt so loved by you, sweet girl.” Sirius unbuckled his seatbelt to wrap himself around you. “You were so so good to him. Everyone knows that.” 

“And he loved you too.” Remus said quietly, his voice thick and heavy with emotion. “You made him so happy, even when he was struggling.” You nodded, tears slithering down your face. You pressed your swollen lips together and hid in Sirius’ shoulder. As the car jostled you, it forced more sobs out. You were certain that at any moment your eyes would run dry, but it never happened. You weren’t sure how long the car ride was, but there was no rush, no indication of time passing as the boys held you together. It was pure, sharp pain, only softened by the blanket of love you were surrounded with.