#remus 💗

[iamthedamndonutdrawcat]

it would be cool and id lose my shit if u drew sirius (+the otehr three lads) in the cool ass matrix outfits i cannot stop thinking of Trinity when i see ur sirius art

it's been ages since i saw the matrix but i would take ANY opportunity to draw sirius in long black coats and leather getups, so this was a lot of fun!! (i became a bit lazy w drawing clothes though, i hope i still did it justice)

[jakelinestradlin]

💗💗

[booksconsumeme]

idk if it’s just me but i hate when in any fandom i’m in someone will be like “oh this *insert a ship* ruined this fandom” like HUH? mf if you don’t like that certain ship simply scroll past.

i would get if it’s like an illegal ship or one that should never be shipped tg like “father x daughter” or wtv. but literally 99% of the time it’s the most normal ship ever and ppl will hate on it.

it’s not hard to legit scroll past it. i don’t like some ships of the fandoms that i’m in and you know what i do about that? I SCROLL PAST. at the end of the day all of these fandom are FICTIONAL and you’re sitting here trying to ruin ppl’s fun just bc you don’t like a certain ship.

grow up, you’re sitting here shitting on ppl for liking what they wanna like when all you have to do is scroll past.

i thought ppl had more common sense than this but apparently not.

[godricgryffinsnore]

helloooo if your you’re taking requests for James Potter i have a REALLYYY long idea and I’m thinking maybe a long story where they are childhood friends and known as the Golden Girl and Boy of Hogwarts. James is quite clingy and touchy with her, so everyone thinks they’re dating. Then, one day, he makes a public, dramatic love confession when he realizes she’s going on a date.

PLEASE PLEASEE feel free to ignore this if its too much💗💗

Just Friends, He Swears ♡ | J.Potter ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

“We were just best friends—until she smiled at someone else and I realized I was one scarf away from staging a public meltdown in the rain.”

pairing : James Potter x fem!reader

summary : A golden boy, a golden girl, and the chaos of being “just friends” when everyone else knows it’s love—except them. A slow-burn Hogwarts rom-com full of tension, longing, and one very dramatic confession in the rain.

warnings : Fluff, Jealousy, Dramatic idiots, Public love confession, Mild language, Secondhand embarrassment. Please let me know if I missed any.

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

della's note : Thank you so much for requesting anon!!! I really appreciate you coming here and sharing your ideas with me <3 Hope you like this!!

word count : 1.5k

navigation <3

banners : @/omi-resources and @/cafekitsune

James Potter met her on the train to Hogwarts in first year, hair wild from the wind, face flushed with excitement, and she had a chocolate frog stuck in her hair. He fell in love right then. Not that he’d admit it. Not even now. Not even when he’s sixteen and she's sitting next to him in the common room with her legs on his lap and his fingers tracing lazy circles into her shin.

They’re best friends. Have been since day one. She’s the only one who can match his chaos, ground his storms, slap him upside the head when he’s being arrogant, and whisper in his ear when he’s too proud to admit he’s scared. They’re Hogwarts’ Golden Pair—he, the adored Quidditch captain with a cocky grin and heart of gold; she, the fierce, loyal, terrifyingly clever girl who laughs at his jokes like he invented the sun.

Everyone thinks they’re dating.

They’re not.

They just… do things like a couple. Sit too close. Touch too much. Argue like they’ve been married for fifty years. She kisses his cheek before every match. He carries her bag to class. Once, he made her a flower crown out of actual magic and then got detention for hexing a Slytherin who called it “soft.”

Sirius once said: “Either snog already or take it to the Room of Requirement and spare the rest of us.”

Lily muttered: “Honestly, it’s like watching two penguins in denial.”

Remus just sipped his tea. He’s smarter than all of them.

But she doesn’t see it. Doesn’t see the way James stares when she’s laughing. Doesn’t feel how he tense-pretends-not-to-be-tense when another boy flirts with her. Doesn’t notice the absolute havoc he descends into when she walks in wearing that stupid Ravenclaw blue scarf—

Wait. That’s not hers.

James squints. “Whose scarf is that?”

She blinks, fiddling with the tassels. “Oh—Aidan gave it to me. The Ravenclaw prefect? I’ve got a date with him this weekend.”

Silence.

Like… actual silence. The kind that makes the room cold even though the fire’s crackling.

James blinks once. Twice.

Then says, louder than necessary: “A date? Like… a romantic one?”

She laughs, tilting her head. “Is there another kind?”

He wants to throw himself out the window.

James does not spiral. He is composed. Collected. A mature young man.

That’s why he definitely doesn’t—

Drag Sirius out of bed at midnight to rant about "Mr. Ravenclaw Bloody Kindness"

Accidentally blow up a pumpkin in Herbology while muttering “he probably says please before kissing her”

Tell Peter he thinks the bloke’s trying too hard to be soft. (“Is that illegal now?” Pete asks. “IT SHOULD BE,” James hisses.)

By Saturday, it’s raining. Of course it is. Because the universe is dramatic. And so is he.

She’s standing near the courtyard fountain, dressed in a skirt he’s definitely never seen and lipstick that’s going to kill him. The scarf’s around her neck, and he wants to rip it off.

He marches toward her like a man possessed. Wet curls in his eyes. Shirt clinging to his chest. The Marauders (plus Lily, Dorcas, Marlene) are trailing behind him like it’s a bloody play.

“Oi!” he yells.

She turns, eyes wide.

“James?”

He kneels. Like a bloody idiot. In the puddles. In the rain. Like she’s leaving him at the altar.

“Don’t go.”

She blinks. “What—?”

“Don’t go on the date.” His voice cracks. Cracks.

“James, why are you—”

“I don’t know!” he nearly shouts, arms flailing. “I don’t know why I feel like I’m dying when you wear his scarf or talk about his stupid kind smile or mention that he reads poetry—WHO EVEN READS POETRY VOLUNTARILY?!”

“You do,” she whispers.

He falters. “I know. But it sounds better when you read it.”

The rain pours harder. Everyone is watching. But it’s just them now.

“James,” she murmurs, confused and stunned and breathless, “why does this matter to you?”

His eyes lock on hers. Desperate. Soft. Possessive.

“I don’t have the words,” he admits. “I just know I need you. Like… air. Like magic. Like my broomstick needs me not to be a dumbass. You’re the one thing I can’t risk losing because I’d never recover. Not really. Not where it counts.”

Her lip trembles. She kneels down with him, the cobblestones digging into her knees, the rain soaking through her skin, their noses inches apart.

“I think…” she whispers, “I think I’ve been in love with you since first year and just thought it was normal to feel like this all the time.”

His breath hitches.

Then she kisses him.

It’s messy. Rain-slick. A little uncoordinated. James makes a sound like someone just gave him oxygen for the first time in weeks.

Behind them:

Sirius: “FINALLY.” Lily: “I’m emotionally unwell.” Remus: “Pay up, Marlene.” Marlene: “I hate love.”

James Potter, now that he is officially your boyfriend, is insufferable.

He always was, of course—hovering over your shoulder during breakfast, twirling your hair during study sessions, slinging an arm around you like it was a reflex. But that was before. That was when he was still pretending he wasn’t in love with you.

Now?

Now he wakes you up with a “Good morning, love of my life, did you dream of me?” every day. He holds your hand in the corridors and refuses to let go, even when you’re both trying to eat toast. He spells “J + Y/N = 🧡” into the condensation of every window he passes.

It’s revolting.

You adore it.

You’re sitting in the library, trying to do Transfiguration homework. James is across from you, meant to be writing a paper on theoretical wandless magic.

Instead, he’s staring at you. Again.

Hard.

Like he’s trying to memorize your face for war.

“James,” you whisper, not looking up from your notes. “Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop looking at me like I’m about to vanish.”

He grins like you just told him he’s your Patronus.

“I would literally pass out if you vanished. Right here. Face-first into my essay.”

“You don’t have an essay.”

“I’d write one about you.”

You blink. “What would it be titled?”

He pauses for half a second before saying, proudly: “‘Anatomy of a Face I’d Die For: A Study in Tragic Obsession.’”

From across the table, Remus snorts.

Aidan—the Ravenclaw you almost went on a date with—is not helping James’s emotional stability.

He’s still friendly. Too friendly. He waves in corridors. Compliments your handwriting. Smiles a bit too long.

James is Not Normal™ about it.

“Do you think he wants to duel?” James says one day while you're walking to Charms.

You blink. “What?”

“Aidan. He looked at me funny. I think he wants to fight.”

“James,” you sigh, “he was holding a kitten.”

“Yeah. As a weapon.”

You stop walking. “Are you jealous of the boy I didn’t go on a date with?”

“I’m not jealous,” he says, tightening his hold on your hand. “I just think he’s too nice. And suspiciously symmetrical.”

He’s pouting. Full-on, Golden Retriever Pout™.

You tug him closer and whisper in his ear, “You know I only want you, right?”

James short-circuits. Blushes so violently Sirius will make fun of him for three days straight.

The Marauders, Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas are trying to have a civil conversation in the Gryffindor common room. You and James are not helping.

You're on his lap. His face is half-buried in your neck. He’s literally just… sighing contentedly.

Dorcas gags. “Do they think they’re in a cottagecore romance novel?”

Sirius throws a pillow. “Oi! James, you’re making us single by proximity.”

James doesn’t move. “You chose this life.”

Lily deadpans: “We didn’t choose anything. You cursed us.”

You grin, twisting slightly to look at your boyfriend. “James, maybe we should tone it down—”

James groans like you’ve stabbed him.

“I just got you!” he whines. “I’ve spent six years in platonic hell! I deserve this! Don’t take this from me, woman!”

“Godric’s bleeding ghost,” Marlene mutters, “he’s dramatic with her too.”

It happens in the middle of a Quidditch match.

You’re cheering from the stands, cold air whipping through your hair, and James does this ridiculous dive to catch the Quaffle—and slams into the ground with a dramatic thud.

Everyone gasps.

You leap from your seat. “JAMES?!”

He sits up immediately and yells:

“I’M OKAY, DARLING! I JUST SAW YOUR FACE AND FORGOT GRAVITY EXISTED!”

The stands go silent.

The Hufflepuff Beaters stop mid-swing.

Madam Hooch looks personally offended.

You turn bright red.

Sirius screams, “GET A ROOM!”

Remus whispers, “We are in the emotional splash zone.”

Later that night, curled into each other on the Gryffindor couch, James hums against your shoulder.

“You think people are sick of us?”

You smile, brushing back his hair. “Definitely.”

“Should we stop?”

“No.”

“Good,” he mumbles sleepily, already halfway to dreaming. “Because I plan on loving you out loud for the rest of my life.”

And even though he’s dramatic, possessive, clingy, and a little stupid in love…

So do you.

[prettydaisygirl]

Heyy~I have a james potter x reader request.

They have a love hate relation,and they keeps on fight but its really only frome one side cause james secretly is in love with reader and loves seeing her mad as its the only way he'll have her full attention.

But james let it's out by accident and reader have fun with this new info and seduces and flirts with james. James becomes all dazed & flustered by reader batting her eyelashes at him.

You can take your own take on this and maybe reader dominates james in bed.....👀

P.s(this is my third request for you and you have nailed the previous requests nd the first time requesting something 18+) please feel free to ignore it💗

Hello nonnie!! OMG thank you so much for your request! I'm literally so honored that you keep making requests because you've enjoyed the other ones I've done for you 😭🩷 I saw the plot of this in my head like a movie when I read your request and I wrote down the basics and had to wait until I had a good time I could sit down and write it all haha, it's been on my mind all week. Hope you enjoy this one, my love!! 

academic rival!James Potter x fem!reader who seduces James to get ahead ✿ 3.6k words

cw: NSFW 18+, university au, James is the top student, reader is second, academic rivals, reader has complicated feelings, reader has kinda iffy intentions, reader is manipulative (?) but then falls in love, dry humping, choking, unprotected p in v, mentions of alcohol

james potter masterlist

°˖✧✿✧˖°

You tap your pen against the edge of the table, bouncing your leg under the desk. Your eyes dart back and forth around the classroom, looking at everyone else waiting too.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

Your eyes lock with his, and you pause. Your eyelids narrow, his brown orbs matching yours and narrowing too. You roll your eyes and look away. Fucking James Potter.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

Sirius, James’ best friend, roommate, and favorite nuisance, groans loudly where he is sprawled in his chair next to James, feet up on the desk. Remus, the one person in their group who you can stand, elbows Sirius and shoots him a quick glare. James’ eyes are still on you, smirk on his lips, and you send him a dirty look. He’s so fucking cocky.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

The door to the lecture hall finally opens, and everyone sits up a bit. Well, everyone except Sirius. 

The professor stomps in, ten minutes late but with clearly no cares in the world, the stack of papers in his hand catching your attention. The exam from last class, one that might finally allow you to pull ahead of James. Or, he did better than you again, and you’ll have to suffer his cruel teasing for another few weeks so you can cram until the next exam. You need that test back. 

Your professor places everything down at his desk with a light groan, running a hand through his hair. He looks around the room, scanning all of his students’ faces, before clearing his throat. 

“I’ll be passing back exams at the end of the hour.” There’s a collective groan but he doesn’t care, continuing on with the lesson. You force yourself to pay attention and take notes, to not think about the potential outcomes of your exam results, to not look in James’ direction even though you know if you did that he would be looking at you. 

This thing between you and James has been going on since freshman year. You stepped onto campus, bright-eyed and valedictorian of your high school, and you vowed to yourself that you were going to repeat the success of the last four years. And, for the most part, you have. 

Except for James Potter. He’s a constant thorn in your side, and he relishes in it. The two of you are in a constant battle for who will be the top student at the University. James somehow always ends up on top. And so for you, it really is a war. You fight tooth and nail. You stay up way too late studying every night, living off of caffeine and short naps between classes. You involve yourself in different activities, you complete every extra credit opportunity, and you attend every office hour, every study session, every single thing you can do. And yet, you always find yourself lagging behind James Potter, who seems to score perfectly on every exam despite not opening his textbook once. It’s infuriating, and you hate him. 

He knows that he gets on your nerves. He loves it, he purposely antagonizes you. Like he’s doing right now.

Your eyes meet his, unconsciously seeking him out as he takes over your thoughts. His eyes are there, on you, just as you knew they would be. He sends you a cheeky wink. Prick. 

Your handwriting is shaky today, a result of your bouncing leg as your stomach churns with anxiety, waiting for the exam results. You chew on your nail, crossing off a word and shaking your head when you spell it wrong. When you aren’t writing, it’s back to tapping.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

You don’t feel like you take a full breath until the test is physically in your hand. You practically tear it away from the professor, eyes darting all over until you spot the score. 100%. Your heart soars, but then you falter just a bit when you realize you missed the extra credit question. You pray that James did too, or that he didn’t score as high.

But you know better.

And so does James, evidently. Because the second you look up, that signature smirk is on his lips and he holds up the test so you can see, a long finger pointing at his score in the top right.

102%. Fuck. 

You really don’t want to be here. The music is too loud, everyone is drunk, and there’s a cloud of smoke so thick you find it a little hard to breathe. 

You had been wallowing in self-pity in your dorm, pouring over your textbook on a Friday night instead of doing anything fun. Because of James fucking Potter and his stupid 102%. He’s been teasing you all week, laughing and whispering with his friends when you walk by.

“Need me to tutor you, darling?” He’d called out with a bright voice, only chuckling when you flipped him off. You hate him and his beautiful face. 

And tonight, your study/self-pity session was interrupted by your phone ringing several times. 

Your roommate asked you to come pick her up from a party, but you’ve searched the frat house twice now with no sign of her. You’ve tried calling, and she won’t answer your texts either. It’s frustrating, and you’re about to go home without her when a familiar voice catches your attention. 

“I mean it!” You know it’s James before you see him, peeking around the corner to spot him, Sirius, Remus, and Peter pouring drinks in the kitchen. “She looked at me eleven times today. I counted!”

“You’re hopeless.” Sirius announces, head shaking before pouring some of the alcohol directly into his mouth from the bottle. Peter gives him a disgusted look and you almost snort. “She hates you.” “I know,” James seems defeated at Sirius’ words and your curiosity is fully peaked at this point. “Why do you think I have to count how many times she looks at me?”

“Have you ever tried, I don’t know, talking to the poor girl?” Remus asks, taking a sip from his cup before taking the bottle away from Sirius when he drinks straight from it again. 

“She always thinks I’m teasing her, even when I really mean it.” James shakes his head, “If pissing her off and getting better scores than her is what keeps her eyes on me, then that’s what I’ll do.” 

Oh. Oh. 

Is he talking about you?

You hold your breath, pressing closer to the wall as though you’ll be able to hear any better, peeking around the corner to watch the four men talk. James takes a large sip of his drink and you find your eyes lingering over his figure.

“I still think you should just tell her.” Peter speaks up and James knocks into him with his shoulder. 

“You know I can’t just do that, Pete.” James shakes his head, and you watch as his chocolate curls flutter against his forehead. “What do I say? ‘Hi, I know you’ve hated me for the last two and a half years and I’ve been pretending to hate you too. Can we go on a date?’”

Sirius snorts, and it’s in perfect timing to cover the slight gasp that comes out of your mouth. He really is talking about you.

James Potter has feelings for you. You thought he hated your guts. 

“What are you doing?” The voice of your roommate from behind you has you practically jumping out of your skin. You whip around to find her watching you with a judgmental look on her face.

“Nothing!” You say quickly, clearing your throat. “I’ve been looking for you. Are you ready? Let’s go.” You don’t really give her a chance to argue, tugging at her arm as you pull her out of the frat house and back to your car. 

You try to pay attention to the conversation your roommate is having with you on the way home, but it’s difficult. Your mind is racing, focus on the conversation you overheard back at the party.

Does James really have feelings for you? He said he only continues to rile you up because you won’t look at him any other way. You don’t trust him if he acts serious. Is that true? 

The only time you can remember that James Potter tried to act sincere with you was the one time you had to miss an exam due to needing a trip to the hospital. He pleaded with the professor on your behalf, convincing him to let you take it a different day. When he told you what he did, you assumed it was because he didn’t want to win an unfair fight. You didn’t think he’d advocate for you because he cares or anything. 

Oh. Maybe James is right. Maybe you don’t take him seriously. 

You toss and turn in your bed that night for hours, mind racing as you rethink almost every interaction you’ve had with the bespectacled boy since the two of you met freshman year. James, for all his annoying flaws, seems to be a good friend. He’s thoughtful, he’s funny, and he’s so handsome it makes you sick sometimes. And he’s so, so smart. 

You hate the feelings churning in your stomach. On one hand, you hate him. Even if he has feelings for you, that doesn’t make it okay for him to tease you, and you still want to be better than him. You need to win. But on the other hand… you could really like him, you think. If you let yourself fall for him. If he really does have feelings for you and it wasn’t all a cruel joke.

But how could it be a joke? James didn’t even know you’d been at the party, and none of his friends had spotted you either. They’d been talking casually, not like they were making fun of you. 

You sigh, flopping into a different position again as you try to get comfortable. You spring up suddenly when you get an idea. 

“I’m going to seduce James Potter.” You say, a happy laugh falling from your lips. “And then I’ll sit by him during the next exam and he’ll be so distracted that I’ll score higher than him!”

You grunt suddenly as a pillow comes in contact with the side of your head, flung by your roommate.

“Go to sleep!”

You’re tapping your pen on your desk again. But this time, there’s no exam to take or score to wait for. You’re waiting for the end of class, eyes darting between the clock and the boy who you’re hoping to catch on the way out. James.

He seems to notice that you’re looking at him more often. You knew he stared at you a lot, but you didn’t know it was actually the entire lecture. You find yourself glancing at him repeatedly, his eyes waiting for yours every time you do. 

This is making you more nervous than you thought it would. You’ve thrown insults and curse words at James like it’s second nature, but the idea of asking him to come back to your dorm with you is making you feel a bit sick. What if you misunderstood everything you overheard? What if they’d been talking about someone else and now you’re going to make a fool of yourself, providing a lifetime of bullying fuel for the one person who really can get under your skin?

You shake your head as the professor dismisses the class, swallowing nervously and quickly packing up your things. You shove down your anxiety, replaying your plan in your head.

Get him in your dorm. Get him naked. Get close enough to keep him distracted from his classes.

You head toward the lecture hall’s doors, and find James and Sirius walking out right in front of you.

“James?” You call out to him. Both James and Sirius turn around, James with eyes as wide as saucers, and Sirius with a bit of a gleam in his eye. 

“Hey,” James says, running a hand through his hair as he tries to seem casual. Now that you see it, it’s so obvious. You’d thought he was so cocky before, now you realize he’s been trying to get your attention..

“Could we… talk?” You ask, shuffling a bit on your feet as your heart races. You try to seem solid, but you don’t know what you’ll do if he laughs in your face and calls you a loser.

He doesn’t. He wouldn’t. Instead he says, “Of course,” though you can tell by the look on his face that he is incredibly confused about why you want to speak to him.

James waves Sirius off and you take a breath. “Can we… go to my dorm?” You ask him.

You can see the suspicion in his eyes, the way the muscles in his jaw tighten and his lips purse. He crosses his arms and then speaks, voice a bit short and clipped. “Your dorm?”

“Yes.” You say with a nod, keeping your voice steady even though you feel like your heart might explode, “I just… I need to talk to you.”

Your words and tone seem to have the desired effect and his hardness softens just a bit. He nods, and walks back with you to your dorm. Your roommate is gone tonight, at her boyfriend’s house, so you know no one will interrupt your plans. 

You sit on the bed, gesturing for James to do the same. He looks out of place here, and it doesn’t help that his body is fully tense and he seems extremely uncomfortable. 

“What did you want to talk to me about?” James asks, and you understand why he is so suspicious of you. He should be, considering your plan. But you have to score higher than him on the next test. And if that means distracting him with his feelings for you, then you’ll do it. 

“I’ve just been… doing some thinking.” You say slowly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You move a bit closer to him, sitting on your knees beside him. “I feel like I owe you an apology.”

That gets his attention. His head whips in your direction, his guard falling for a moment from the shock of your words. “You’re apologizing to me?” You nod, playing with a strand of your hair. “I haven’t been very nice, and I… I don’t want you to think I’m a bad person. I like you, James.”

He stares at you, lips slightly parted, and it’s like you can see his brain short-circuit. His eyes, as big and beautiful as always underneath his glasses, blink several times as he tries to process what you’ve said. You wait, and after a long moment you decide to speak again.

“Aren’t you going to say you like me back?”

“What?” James shakes his head, and it seems like his hand reaches for your waist instinctively, but stops short of actually touching you. “I mean, yes. I like you, but I don’t understand. I thought…”

“That I hated you?” You say, tilting your head and batting your eyelashes at him. You see his pupils dilate, his Adam’s apple bob. You shake your head. “I don’t hate you, James. Actually, I…” You lean forward to reach and brush some curls off his forehead, then whisper to him, “I really, really want you.” 

“Is this really happening?” James asks, like he’s torn between his mind and his heart. You don’t give him a second to question you, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips. He responds immediately grabbing for you and deepening the kiss. His grip is tight, and he lets out little whines and moans in your mouth. You ignore the way the sounds make your thighs clench and your stomach warm. 

He pulls you forward into his lap, your legs on either side of his hips. You roll forward, pressing down against him. He’s already hard, and you can tell he’s big. Your heart flutters but you ignore it, continuing to focus on James as you find him bucking his hips up into yours. He really must have been pent up, waiting for this. 

“Holy fuck. Holy fuck.” He whispers between kisses, hands grasping at you like a man touch-starved. 

When he pulls his lips away from yours to breathe, he quickly leans forward to attach them to your neck. You find your eyes fluttering closed as his tongue darts out against your skin and leaves saliva and warmth in its wake. Despite trying to push down your own feelings, you find yourself wanting more of him. Not just to seduce him, but also because it feels good. 

You reach down, freeing James from his pants. He lifts his hips a bit to help you. He’s even bigger than you thought and he finds the audacity to smirk a bit at you, making you roll your eyes.

You stroke him a few times, hearing him whimper your name. You hate the way your throat tightens when he does. Your own pants are tossed aside quickly, along with your underwear. 

James’ hands grasp at your hips, and his eyes are dark and hazy as you look down at him from your place on his lap. His Adam’s apple bobs again as he swallows thickly, his chest a bit shaky as he breathes. 

It’s time to lock in, you think, and lean forward to press a kiss to his jaw. You literally watch his dick twitch and you lick up his neck to his ear.

“Are you going to let me fuck you, James?” You whisper into his ear, seeing his body shiver. A thought crosses your mind that being above him like this feels a million times better than being above him in GPA, but you force that idea away as soon as it appears. 

He whines, and you pull back, sliding a hand up to rest against the front of his throat. You tilt your head and see James’ entire face flush, his cock bright red and already leaking. “Well?”

“Yes, please, yeah…” He whines and you pretend not to absolutely relish in the way it sounds. 

You squeeze his throat a bit as you slide down onto him, and he practically cums right then. You smirk a bit, giving the both of you a moment to adjust. He feels really fucking good, too good. You find yourself enjoying every roll of your hips, every buck of his. You squeeze a bit tighter every time he tries to speak, and it always has his eyes rolling back and his hands gripping you harder. His body trembles, and pieces of strangled whimpers escape his mouth as you grind down onto him.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” You moan out, the sound escaping you before you can stop yourself. One of James’ hands moves to your wrist, holding it but not pulling it away from his neck. In fact, at the next roll of your hips, he pushes your wrist closer, encouraging you to tighten your grip, and you do. 

The sight of his writhing beneath you is everything you could ever have hoped for. James is completely at your mercy, and it makes you feel invincible. You cum harder than you ever have in your life, and James follows not long after. 

You make the mistake of falling asleep next to him afterward, telling yourself that it’s to make him really think you like him. Not because you wanted to sleep with your ear pressed to his chest, listening to his heart beat. It’s just soothing. You tell yourself it won’t happen again, even though deep down, you know you’re lying. This has changed things for you, even if you won’t admit it to yourself.

The day of the next exam finally comes, and for once, you find that you aren’t nervous. You studied your ass off the entire past week, and with your plan to distract James going well so far, you don’t feel like you have much to worry about.

You take a seat next to James for this one, and he smiles lovingly at you. His friends snort, and you wonder what he told them. The talking stops instantly as tests are passed around. You spend the entire time brushing your foot against James’ calf, at one point bending over to pick up your pencil and purposely showing him your cleavage. It works to distract him, and you’ve convinced yourself that you have this in the bag.

You leave feeling confident, James following you like a puppy. He’s been by your side almost the entire time since you hooked up with him. You find you like having him around. 

As his hand slides into yours and his smile makes your heart skip, you aren’t sure if you're still lying to yourself about how you feel. The more time you spend with him, the more you find yourself liking him. It happens slowly, until one day you realize that the things that used to be frustrating about him now make him endearing. Your walls crumble like old castle walls, until you’ve accepted that maybe these feelings have been there since the beginning.

It’s these realizations alone that keep you from breaking down when you finally see the test scores.

“How?” You ask, eyes darting between your test and James’. You got a 98%. James got 100%.. “I was trying to give you a boner the entire time!”

“Joke's on you,” James says with a smirk, grabbing your test from you and pressing a kiss to your cheekbone. “That happens every time I watch you during an exam. I’m used to it.”

°˖✧✿✧˖°

© prettydaisygirl

[sweeterthan13]

KKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK🫶🫶🫶 I LOVE THEM YOUR HONOR

Hi Mae!! I wanted to request a story where doctor!Remus and you are dating. You're out with James and Sirius whilst he's at work and you pass out/are sick/whatever you think fits the story and they freak out and take you to the hospital, where Remus sees you and loses his mind. He takes care of you and the guys are there for moral support. Also, reader is afraid of doctors in general but specially needles so putting that IV on is a hassle in itself hehe.

Thanks in advance!!!!

Hi, thanks for requesting!

cw: fear of hospitals and needles, somewhat angsty, mention of vomit (in the past tense, if that helps), this was sort of weird to write because I don't usually write reader arguing with their love interest like this but I hope it came out okay

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

You’re alerted to Remus’ arrival by Sirius’ shrill voice. 

“Finally! I’ve been texting you.” 

“We’re not really encouraged to be checking our phones during busy shifts,” says Remus. He sounds sharp and tired, and you look up from where your head rests on James’ shoulder just as he comes to a stop in front of your chair. A creased brow and gentle hands feeling at your forehead. “Hi, darling. Seems like that flu’s gotten a bit worse, hm?”

“You told us to check in on her,” Sirius goes on, “and we did, and we found her basically in a puddle of her own sick.” 

“She’d been sick in the toilet, and then fell asleep on the bathmat,” James clarifies. “But she seemed really very ill.” 

“Let’s go back,” Remus slides an arm around your waist, hoisting you up against his side and helping you walk towards the double doors that lead out of the waiting area. “What was her temp at when you found her?” 

“We don’t know.” Sirius trails behind, exasperated. “We couldn’t figure out where you kept your thermometer, and she was hardly in a state to say.” 

Remus makes a worried humming sound. “How are you feeling, dovey?”

“Tired,” you sigh, hoping you’re not leaning too hard against him but having a difficult time recalling what walking normally feels like, “‘nd my head hurts.” 

“She seems a bit better than when we first found her,” James says. You think you detect some worry in his tone as well. “She was just waking up then, and Sirius got her to drink some water in the car.” 

“Doesn’t sound like you’ve been taking very good care of yourself,” Remus murmurs, just for you. He kisses your head. “Poor love, I knew I shouldn’t have come to work today.” 

“M’alright,” you say, letting him help you onto a small cot in a curtained-off room. Sirius and James file in behind you, and Remus shuts the curtain once they’re inside. 

You look at him, and your surroundings, the machines and tools and the overwhelming harshness of it all, start to sink in for you. 

“Can you take me home?”

Remus’ expression is gentle. “Not yet, sweetheart. You should be feeling much better once I do, though, yeah?” He brushes a piece of hair away from your face, encouraging you to lie back on the pillow. “Would one of you want to hop up here with her?” he asks the other boys, then to you: “You don’t mind sharing your bed, do you?”

“No,” you say, somewhat bemusedly. Sirius grins at you, climbing over you to lie down by your side. 

“Thanks. I’m just gonna get your vitals now, dove.” 

You feel a bit silly, but your nerves worsen as Remus checks you over, sticking plasticy things in your ear and cold metal on your back and making his various concerned faces. He must notice something when he takes your pulse, because he thumbs over the skin of your forearm comfortingly. Sirius, noticing, works an arm under your shoulders and pulls you close to his side. 

“Alright,” Remus says in what you recognize to be his most soothing voice, “look at Sirius for me, please.” 

You, of course, look in the opposite direction of where he wants you, and he’s taking your arm, pushing up your sleeve. 

“Remus.” Betrayal sounds in your voice as you pull away from him, holding your arm close to your side. 

He sighs. “You need fluids and medicine to get better. You want to go home, yeah?” 

“I don’t want an IV,” you say in a tight voice. 

Remus softens. He rubs your leg through your pajama pants. “I know, babydove, but you need to have one. I’ll get it over with as quickly as I can.” 

“I had to have one last summer, when I got dehydrated,” James pipes up. He’s stolen a small stool likely meant for the doctor and is swiveling back and forth restlessly. “It wasn’t as bad as you might think. I hardly remembered it was there most of the time.” 

“I just don’t want to,” you say again, voice going quiet and frail. Your vision starts to blur. 

“Take a deep breath,” Remus coaches in that lulling voice. It’s half working, a familiar sort of comfort wrapping like a blanket around your frazzled nerves. You feel torn between your trust in your boyfriend and your absolute terror of everything that happens in a hospital. “You’re alright, yeah? This is the last thing you have to do for me. After, you can rest or have a nap, and when you’re well enough you can go home, okay? I might even be able to go with you.” 

You shake your head wordlessly, feeling ridiculous and childish but altogether petrified as you wipe tears from underneath your eyes. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” His brows pinch, and he leans over, kissing your temple. “You’ll be okay, I promise. Look over at Sirius, yeah?” 

You cry but don’t resist as Sirius uses the arm around your shoulders to turn your face away, feeling Remus take your arm in his grasp. His fingers press gently into the crook of your elbow. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Sirius says quietly. He touches his lips to your forehead. “You’ve got this, babe, it’ll be over before you know it.” 

Remus is obviously doing his best to make good on this promise. He ties the tourniquet quickly, and something cold and wet swipes over your skin. The bite of the needle doesn’t come as a surprise, but you take in a tiny, petrified breath anyway. It rasps wetly in your throat. 

“You’re alright,” Remus murmurs, undoing the tourniquet as he speaks. “You’re doing so well, almost done now.” 

You’re not in pain, necessarily, but the sensation of a foreign object in your arm is distinctly unsettling, and Sirius makes a soft sound of distress when your weeping worsens. None of this is helping your headache, either. Your sinuses throb. 

“There.” You hear tape ripping, and then Remus is pressing it carefully over the spot in your arm. “There, done.” 

Sirius lets go of your face. The moment you turn around Remus’ is on you, brushing away your tears and kissing your hairline apologetically. 

“That’s it, darling, you can relax now. You did so well. Do you feel alright?” 

“He means are you cross with him,” James translates helpfully. 

Remus gives his friend an exasperated look, but his smile is sheepish. “That too, I suppose.” 

“Honestly?” Your voice is pitchy. It scratches against your flu-torn throat. “A little, but not really. I’ll get past it.” 

Remus gives a little laugh. “Oh, my love.” He bends forward, wrapping you up in a hug. “Thank you. I can live with that.” He holds the back of your head, rubbing between your shoulder blades firmly. When he lets you go, it’s with a kiss to your brow. “Sirius, get out of her bed. She needs to rest.” 

“Excuse me?” Sirius is affronted. “I think I’ve just proven I make an excellent pillow. And where am I supposed to sit? James has taken the only stool.” 

“He can stay,” you tell Remus. 

“Thank you, gorgeous. See? Jamie, come over here so we can watch a film on your phone.” 

Remus rolls his eyes, stepping aside to let James scoot by on his stool. “Fine, but try to get some actual sleep. I want your temperature down when I come back to check on you, yeah?” 

“You’re the doctor,” Sirius points out, getting cozy on his side of the bed as you and James scroll through films. “What’s she supposed to do, will it down? Sod off.” 

Remus heaves a long-suffering sigh, pulling off his gloves and dropping them in the trash can. “So glad you’re here.” 

“And where would your girl be if we weren’t, Rem?” asks James, looking up from his phone to raise his brows. “She’s lucky to have us.” 

Remus rolls his eyes, leaving the room. “Aren’t we all.”

[sunskisser]

Hi i was wondering if you could do a poly wolfstar fic with a fem reader where she feels left out of the relationship because they start to drifting apart which then leads to them breaking up. But then Sirius and Remus realises what they did wrong but reader just doesnt want to because shes scared they'll leave her out again.💗

hi angel! thank you for the request ♡

meant to be | poly!wolfstar

part 1 | part 2

tw: angst

poly!wolfstar x reader

You lean against the doorway, quietly observing them. Something you always seem to be doing these days. Your eyes rake over Sirius, with his legs propped up on one arm of the couch while his head lies in Remus’ lap.

Sirius laughs, and the smile Remus gives him while he strokes his hair is so full of love. It makes you wonder if Remus thought he personally strung up all the stars in the sky or something.

You try not to let it get to you but it does anyway, that same stinging sensation in your chest, as though someone had pierced your heart.

It felt silly to feel as hurt as you did. The boys were so hopelessly in love, it was endearing. They had claimed to love you the same way too just a few weeks ago. When they first proclaimed their love, it felt surreal. Perfect. But now, it felt like a chore.

Not to you, never to you. Loving them would never feel like a chore to you, you were sure of that. But what if they felt that way? What if you were just an experiment gone wrong?

Maybe you were just overthinking the whole thing. Or maybe this relationship was a mistake.

Sirius and Remus perfectly complemented each other already, it was like Remus was a container and Sirius was water. And you were the lid that just never fit right. Remus was calm, peaceful, loving. Sirius was fun, snarky, and full of affection.

What were you? Just a random girl who had the fortune of stumbling across the lovely couple.

They hadn’t done anything in particular to upset you, they never would. But it was the way they instinctively walked closer together, their fingers interlaced. The way they glanced at each other, having silent conversations you would never understand. How they seemed to know everything about the other, from every inch of his skin to every thought in his head.

It was like they could see colours you couldn’t see, speak a language you didn’t understand.

You told yourself it was fine, they had just known each other longer. They stayed in the same dorm room and took the same classes, of course they were bound to be closer.

But wasn’t that exactly the problem? Their lives were inexplicably intertwined, and it felt like you were trying to wedge yourself in. It left you feeling like the side character in your own story.

You heard your name and snapped out of your daze, blinking as you find Sirius grinning stupidly at you from where he lazed on the sofa. His expression softens when your eyes meet his. “Love, come over here! We’ve been looking for you all day.”

That was a lie, your brain screamed at you. You spotted them chatting in lessons, eating together at the Great Hall, taking a walk in the garden. They were not looking for you, it was a lie.

Remus smiles softly, beckoning you over. You will yourself to move, to go sit with your boyfriends, but it’s like your legs have turned to stone.

You silently stand there, watching them. You try to muster a smile or open your mouth to say something. But nothing comes out except for a quiet wrangled sort of noise.

Remus looks at you strangely. Sirius frowns, his eyebrows creasing. He pushes his palms down on the couch, elbows buckling as he sits up a bit. “Y/N, baby? Why don’t you come on over?”

You watch Remus gently move his fingers to Sirius’ forehead to smoothen the lines between his eyebrows, and him turning around to give the sandy-haired boy a lovesick smile. That simple action causes the last ounce of willpower in you to break.

You clench your fists to stop your hands from trembling as you suck in a deep breath, feeling the ache in your chest start to grow. Was it jealousy? Anger? Hurt?

Sirius seemed ready to move to your side right that moment, looking utterly confused as to what was wrong. But Remus kept his hand wrapped around Sirius’ bicep, a silent order to let you be.

“Angel,” Remus breathes quietly. You visibly flinch at the term of endearment, not missing the flash of hurt across his face which he quickly replaced with his usual stoicism.

Your heart was thudding so loudly you wondered if the boys could hear it. You swallow the lump in your throat, stuck between wanting to burn the bridges between you or to walk across them.

“I…” your voice comes out scratchy as you try to explain yourself. You clear your throat, watching Sirius’s frown deepen and Remus bite his lip anxiously.

“I don’t think I want to,” you say quietly, feeling your heart sink to your stomach. You knew Remus would understand, always the perceptive one. It was obvious in the way his eyes widened and his grip on Sirius loosened.

But Sirius just tilts his head, looking at you quizzically. “Okay…? You can sit on the other couch then. You can sit anywhere you want to, love.”

You wince, glancing at Remus for help. But he’s looking at you with that sad look on his face now, the one he only wears when he sees Sirius crying after receiving a letter from home, or when you show up at Hogwarts after the holidays with bruises all over. Did it really hurt him that much?

A sigh escapes you as you decide to try to be gentle with it. That’s the least you could do, after the boys had so generously let you in on their already perfect relationship. You suck in a shaky breath, mustering the courage to croak out the words.

“It’s not about the couch, Siri. I… I mean this,” you mutter, gesturing between the three of you. Immediately, your head ducks down, scared of what you’ll find if you look back up at them.

An uncomfortable silence is cast over the room, the kind that makes your skin crawl. A beat of quietness passes before you find the strength to raise your head, peeking at the boys. Sirius looks cracked open, his face a picture of anguish.

“What?” he rasps out. Remus’ features are tight with something that looks like grief, his hand ghosting over Sirius’ ankle to provide the little comfort he can.

The croakiness of his voice makes your heart feel like it’s being cleaved in two. But you knew you had to do this. For your sake, and for theirs.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you mumble in a rush, eager to get it out and not have to endure watching them in pain for too long. Sirius stays silent, his lips pursed so tight you think he might burst into tears.

“Why?” Remus asks quietly, gaze still trained onto yours as he rubs circles onto Sirius’ ankle comfortingly. “I… I don’t fit in. You guys are perfect for each other. But I just don’t fit in,” you admit, feeling guilt clawing at you. “This just isn’t working,”

“We’ll make it work,” Sirius says immediately, and the sincerity in his voice almost makes you want to concede. But you know that’s not possible. “Just… just tell us what we’re doing wrong, we’ll fix it. I swear.”

Remus nods slowly, looking at you expectantly. The hope on their faces make you feel like the worst person in the world as you give them all you have to offer - a small shake of your head.

“But love,” Sirius murmurs, his voice cracking. “Why… what… where did we mess up?”

“It wasn’t you guys,” you say immediately, even though it was. You just can’t bear to see the pain etched on the black-haired boy’s face. “It’s just not meant to be. We’re better off as friends.”

“But we love you,” Remus speaks up quietly. Sirius nods earnestly.

“I can’t,” you say, relieved that your voice comes out evenly. It’s a miracle with how hard you’re fighting to hold back tears. “I can’t do this. The both of you are always together, and I'm not blaming you for it. It’s in your nature to be together-”

“It’s in your nature to be with us too, dove,” Sirius says, the anguish in his voice leaving to make way for pure sadness.

“It’s not,” your voice coming out as a pathetic sob. “I’m not like you guys. I’m not fun, I don’t take the same classes, I don’t ever get what you mean. We’re just not right for each other.”

You think you can see something break in Remus when you utter that last sentence. Sirius bites down on his quivering lip and wraps his arms around himself, as though physically restraining himself from pulling you into a hug.

This isn’t the first time they’ve ignored what you said, isn’t the first time they didn’t respond. It happened on a daily basis, for Merlin’s sake. But this is the only time it hurt as much as it did right now.

You glance at them one last time, heart breaking at their pained expressions. But none of them say a word as you turn around and leave the room, letting you go all too easily.

Perhaps you were just not meant to be.

[ddejavvu]

hii i love your writing!! i was wondering if you could write something with bassist!remus where hes like suuper flirty with reader in the backstage and the rest of the boys sort of tease him😭😭 tysm💗💗💗

Remus is typically the strong, silent type on stage, much preferring a stony expression to the goo-goo eyes James makes at whoever takes their top off in the pit. After all, he's taken, and his detachment from their band's rather forward fanbase has led to conclusions that he's not exactly Mr. Romance.

But five minutes before he'd been bathed in stage lighting he'd been slouched forwards in his chair, your lithe hands trailing feather-light lines across his back. He's wearing a t-shirt, not a lazy outfit choice but a simple one, and the points of your nails feel heavenly through the thin fabric.

"Lower." He commands, gently, kindly, but still a command, and he arches forwards in his seat to let your nails scrape lower towards his waistband.

He groans as you scratch lightly near the base of his spine, and you're surprised that his right leg doesn't shoot out from under the chair like a particularly happy dog's.

"That's it." He mumbles, letting you scratch the rest of his itch before he straightens in his seat, "Y'know my back's always itchy when you're not here before a show? Three hours on stage with an itchy back, 's murder."

"Sirius could itch it. He's got nice nails."

"No. He'd try to lift my shirt up and flash the audience. Can't have the masses seeing my abs, y'know."

"'Cause they're mine." You conclude, nodding thoughtfully, "Will you lift your shirt up and flash me?"

"Here? In front of all the lighting and sound guys?" He gestures to the gaggle of technicians all proceeding with last-minute prep for the show, "That's pretty racy. Sort of defeats the whole point of keeping them to yourself."

"Later, at home." You bargain, "Please?"

Fans' voices kick up from beyond the stage, meaning the lights have gone off and Sirius, James, and Remus needs to get out there before a riot breaks out. You grab hold of Remus's hand, though, waiting until he gives in with an amused smirk, "Fine. I'll take off my shirt for you later."

"Good luck." You release him, squeezing his hand once before doing so, "I'll be watching."

You are watching, and Sirius knows that, which is surely why he calls attention to your boyfriend mere minutes into their set, "We all heard you cheer extra loud for Remus, you traitors. I'll have you know he's not as dark and brooding as he seems. Jus' promised his lady backstage that he'd be stripping for her later."

"Yeah, she's got him wrapped around her finger," James laughs, a deep chuckle that's barely heard over the instant rise in volume from the crowd, "Mr. Mystery over here was begging for a back scratch not ten minutes ago."

You don't need to be up close and personal to Remus to notice the rouge suddenly flaring over his cheekbones, but to his credit his face is still set in a confident smirk. He takes it like a champ, even though you're sure he's dying inside as fans tease him.

"Say whatever you want." Remus finally speaks, eliciting a round of cheers from the crowd, "But you boys don't get your backs scratched before a show, so I know you're just jealous."

[dismalflo]

Hi lovely!

I was wondering if you could do a poly!marauders x male reader? Gn is also fine. Where the reader and boys all move in together? And it’s just them getting used to all living together? Only if it’s okay with you.

Thank you for considering this 💗✨

hi darling, thank you for requesting! i went with gn!reader <3

poly!marauders x reader your first morning living together ✩ 933 words

cw: fluff

There’s a warm weight draped across your waist, and for a moment, you're unsure what’s dragged you from sleep. Exhaustion had claimed you quickly last night, the weight of hauling box after box, reshuffling the fragments of a life into unfamiliar corners. You’d assumed it had worn everyone out just the same.

That assumption falters when you crack your eyes open to the empty space beside you – James’s space – cold and untouched.

You blink against the light filtering through half-drawn curtains, the faintest rustle of movement slipping in from the living room. Muffled voices follow. James’ low, chipper cadence carries easily, punctuated by Remus’ quieter, more deliberate tone. They’re talking, laughing, the occasional scrape of cardboard and the thump of furniture filling the morning air.

You shift slightly beneath the blanket, the sheets rumpled and warm around you. Just as you begin to push yourself upright, an arm tightens around your waist. A low, gravelly groan huffs against the back of your neck.

“Don’t.” Sirius mumbles, voice thick with sleep.

You pause, a smile already tugging at your lips as you turn in his hold. His bleary eyes blink up at you through a curtain of dark, sleep-mussed hair. One side of his face is squished into the pillow, the other half haloed in soft morning light. His arm remains tight around your waist, fingers flexing slightly as if to anchor you there.

“I was just going to see what they’re–”

“No,” Sirius interrupts with a groan that borders on a whine.

You laugh quietly, lifting a hand to brush the hair from his face. Your fingertips trace lightly along his cheekbone, down the rough stubble of his jaw. He leans into your touch with a pleased hum, eyes fluttering shut again.

Letting your fingers linger and brush down the slope of his neck you trace the soft curve of his collarbone where his shirt – your shirt, technically – hangs loose. It’s an old tee you’d lost months ago to the black hole that is Sirius’ wardrobe, and now it’s stretched and worn soft from constant wear. On him, it looks absurdly good.

He sighs like he can feel your thoughts drifting toward practicality, and without opening his eyes, he mumbles, “Move, and I swear I’ll start something neither of us have the energy to finish.”

You snort, ducking your face into the crook of his neck to hide the flush of warmth spreading up your cheeks. 

“That’s the least effective threat you’ve ever made.”

“Promise, not a threat.” He corrects with a lazy smirk, his mouth twitching into something fond. “You should really learn the difference.”

Before you can respond, the bedroom door creaks open, and a familiar voice cuts in.

“Thought I heard you two whispering in here.”

James is grinning, shirtless, sweat dotting his temples like he’s been up for hours. He’s holding two mismatched mugs. “Brought you coffee. Because I’m perfect.”

Sirius perks up at the sight of him, pulling himself away from your shoulder and grinning wolfishly up at James.

“Perfect is right.” He winks.

James steps fully into the room, the soft scrape of his bare feet against the hardwood barely audible. He holds out one of the mugs, his warm hand extending it toward you. Steam curls lazily upward from the mug, the rich, comforting scent of freshly brewed coffee teasing at your senses.

“For you,” James says, settling beside Sirius with an ease that makes your chest tighten. His shoulder brushes against Sirius’, a quiet confirmation of their shared joy. Sirius leans into the contact, his lips brushing James’ temple in a fleeting kiss.

James chuckles, nudging Sirius with his elbow. “Rem made it, so you’re safe,” he adds with mock solemnity, his voice warm and affectionate.

You take the mug from him with a grateful smile, the bitterness of the coffee waking your senses more than the soft chatter around you. This perfect morning – this perfect moment – is the beginning of something new. The boxes, the exhaustion, the sweat, all of it fades away.

The door creaks again, and Remus steps into the frame, hair tousled, eyes still heavy with sleep but fond. 

“Are you planning on getting up today?” he asks, voice playful.

You shake your head, muffling your answer against Sirius’ shoulder. “Not anytime soon.”

Remus grins and, without hesitation, slides onto the bed beside you. The space between the four of you shrinks as he folds into your side, settling easily. His fingers find yours beneath the blanket, lacing together without a second thought.

Sirius stretches out, arm draping over you to pull Remus closer, and James props himself up on his elbow, his gaze sweeping over the three of you like he’s memorising all he can.

“Can we just unpack tomorrow instead?” you ask, half-joking, half-hoping for an answer that allows you to stay here.

Remus chuckles, low and soft, the sound rumbling through his chest. His fingers squeeze yours gently, his thumb stroking over your hand absentmindedly. There’s a tenderness in the way he shifts, a quiet affection that fills the space between you all.

“I don’t think so,” he says, sounding almost disappointed with his answer. “We’ve got work to do.”

Sirius hums in agreement, though his voice is slow and warm. “As much as I hate to admit it, I think he’s right.” He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, his arms tightening around you, contradicting his words.

 No one shifts an inch and no boxes get unpacked until far later in the day.

masterlist <3

[novvabee]

could you write about the mauraders when they go to the shrieking shack for the full moon and there’s another werewolf? Idk something like that

ooooo, this gave me a really fun idea, hope you enjoy 💗

The Deer, The Dog, And The Two Wolves

summary: remus meets another wolf

word count: 2.3k

“I mean, did you see her? Talk about fit!” Sirius laughed, walking through the portrait into their common room. He was talking about the new girl, the girl who had started halfway through the semester.

Poor girl was paraded in front of the whole school for her sorting. She was obviously embarrassed and uncomfortable to be the center of the whole school’s attention.

“Too bad she was sorted into Slytherin,” Sirius said as he threw himself across a sofa in the middle of the common room, “I would have liked to get to know her.” This made Lily and Mary scoff from the opposite couch in front of the fireplace.

“Why’s she starting in the middle of the semester?” James asked.

“Maybe she just moved here.” Lily supplied.

“Lucky her,” James said, “she just missed midterm exams.” Everyone chuckled at that.

While everyone was conversing and laughing, Remus had dread looming over him. His muscles began to ache and he could feel the effects of the approaching full moon. The moon would be tomorrow night, but Remus had been feeling it all week. After a while of chatting, all he wanted to do was crawl into bed. 

“I am quite tired,” Remus said, standing and motioning for the boys to follow. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow?”

“Yeah! Just meet us in hogsmeade.” Mary says.

Remus nods, the other boys say their goodnights and they all make their way up to their room. As soon as the door was shut behind them, Remus was falling into bed.

“What is the plan for tomorrow?” James asked, they usually had no trouble sneaking out and waiting in the shrieking shack for Remus, but this time, the girls insisted the boys come with them to hogsmeade for the day. Only Lily knew about Remus, so sneaking away was going to be harder than normal.

“I was thinking I could cut away from the group with Remus and we could head to the shack while you help Lily distract the others.” Sirius said, having planned that out fairly quickly. “That sound alright?” he asked Remus.

Remus was too tired, too weary to answer vocally so he just nodded. The boys looked at him with pity, they knew how he was feeling, so they just opted to let him sleep.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The day spent in Hogsmeade was lovely, despite the pain and tenseness that Remus felt, he still enjoyed himself.

They made their way from shop to shop, buying candies from Honeydukes and gadgets from Zonkos. The girls begged to stop by Gladrags and the boys reluctantly agreed.

“Fine,” James said, rolling his eyes, “but only because I need a new tie.”

The group piled into the shop, the girls immediately rushing towards the new dresses and coats, Remus and Sirius turned to browse the rings and necklaces. 

Remus felt… odd. He felt the hairs on his neck stand and a chill run down his spine, immediately set on edge. He had never felt this before, a new experience for him. He put himself on high alert, scanning the shop, but seeing or sensing nothing out of the ordinary, just that unfamiliar tingle.

“Dear Merlin,” Sirius muttered from beside him. Remus followed his gaze across the shop to see Regulus. It seemed like the brothers noticed each other at the same time, because Regulus turned to his group of friends, and they swiftly exited.

“Still in a spat?” Remus asked Sirius.

Sirius huffed and replied “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Remus left it alone, seeing as the day was going very well, he didn’t want to ruin it in any way. 

James got his tie and the girls all bought different clothes and were ready to continue on. It was getting later in the day, the sun would set soon, so Remus wanted to finish the trip.

“Butterbeer, anyone?” he asked and the whole group perked up and started down the street towards The Three Broomsticks.

Remus opened the door for the group, allowing everyone in, before stepping in himself. Once inside, that grating feeling was back. He looked around again, but was met with the same outcome, there was nothing awry. Confused, he just figured the moon was messing with his senses.

The group found a table towards the back of the pub and they all squeezed in. Remus found himself sandwiched between Marlene and James. The whole bunch was lively as ever, laughing and joking, talking about everything and nothing at all.

The witch who ran the pub asked the table for their orders and James ordered butterbeers for the whole table. So typical of James, to order and pay for everyone, spend his fortune on his friends and a good time. 

Mary gasped from across the table, making everyone turn their attention to her. “Don't look now,” she said, “but that new girl is sitting with the Slytherins.” 

The whole table snapped their necks toward where Mary was looking.

“I said don’t look!” she squealed.

She was right, the new girl was sitting next to Dorcas and across from Regulus, looking like she was in a deep conversation with them. But, almost like she felt their eyes on her, she looked over to them. The whole group tried to turn and make it look like they weren’t just staring at her(it was so obvious), but she caught Remus’s eye before he could look away.

It was like she looked directly into his soul, and there was that feeling again. Remus could have sworn she sat up straighter, taken by surprise for some reason. She narrowed her eyes at him, looked him up and down, then returned to her conversation.

Odd… 

Their butterbeers arrived and Remus put the interaction aside, deciding to just enjoy the rest of the time he had with his friends. Once the group finished, Sirius casually yawned and turned to Remus. “Fancy a smoke?” he asked. Remus nodded and exited the pub with Sirius.

They began their journey to the shrieking shack, Remus feeling the nip in the air, but also that feeling. He took a cigarette out of his jacket pocket, handed one to Sirius, then lit them both. Perhaps a smoke would ease the odd sensation. Walking in comfortable silence, taking drags of their cigarettes, the boys eventually ended up at the shack.

Remus dropped the butt of his cigarette and snuffed it out with his shoe, Sirius taking one last drag, then doing the same.

“Now,” Sirius started, “James will meet up with us but it’s business as usual right?”

Remus nodded. “Yeah, just try to stay in the forest like normal.”

“Gotcha,” Sirius replied. “Gotta lock you in now, Moons.”

Remus opened the door to the shack and stepped inside. He pulled the door closed and heard Sirius mutter the spell to magically seal him in until he transformed, then one of them would open the door and they would spend the whole night racing and playing in the woods in their animal forms.

Remus didn’t enjoy a lot of his lycanthropy, but being able to run in an animalistic way with his best mates, that was one thing he did enjoy.

Remus made his way upstairs to the old, beaten up bedroom, and layed on the bed. He began waiting for the transformation. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Something was off, Sirius could tell. He and James, who had broken away from the group finally, were sitting at the edge of the forest.

They heard Remus transforming, which was never easy, but this time it seemed that he was having a particularly rough time. James winced from beside Sirius and shook his head. Once they were certain he was fully changed, James magically unlocked the door.

They both transformed into their animagus form, but Remus didn’t come out. Sirius and James looked at each other and Sirius went inside to check on Remus, coax him out of the shack.

Sirius padded upstairs, expecting to see the wolf destroying something or clawing at the furniture, but he was met with a completely different scene entirely. The wolf was pacing around the room in a circle, sniffing the air and whining. When it saw the black dog that had entered, it perked up, but still looked around, as if looking for someone else.

The dog raced downstairs, goading the wolf to chase it. The wolf gave in easily and followed the dog down the stairs and out of the house where they were met with the large stag. The wolf tackled the deer, rolling and play-fighting until the wolf’s ears perked up. It snapped it’s head to the forest and bolted.

The dog and the deer had no chance to wrangle it before it slipped through the tree line and into the dark forest beyond. The dog and the deer looked at each other and then dashed after the wolf.

Sirius didn't understand what had gotten into the wolf, but raced as fast as he could to catch up.

That is when the howl came from deep in the forest. Everything stopped, the whole forest seeming to be silenced. Then the answering howl sounded.

The deer and the dog followed the sound to an opening in the forest, a small field with a large oak in the center. They expected to find Moony there, chasing something, but they were not expecting to see two wolves circling each other.

They hung back at the tree line, watching but ready to protect Remus if anything were to happen.

The other wolf was smaller, a female, but just as dangerous, still a werewolf.

The two wolves continued circling each other, tense. The smaller wolf noticed the dog and the stag at the forest’s edge, and growled, hackles raising. Moony stepped between her and his friends, protecting them, and growled deep back at her. The other wolf turned her attention to him now, focusing all her anger at him.

Moony wasn’t backing down, determined to protect the dog and the stag behind him. He clawed at her, catching her right under the eye. She wasted no time in returning the favor, and swiped right back at him, getting him good.

Moony, shocked, stepped back and sat down, like a dog asking for a treat. The other wolf blinked, then mirrored his actions. Moony pounced and ran off, the other wolf following, chasing.

They were playing. 

The dog and the deer looked at each other, then back to the two wolves, then joined in.

It was slightly harder, keeping track of two wolves rather than just the one, but at least they could rough-house with each other and not be too afraid to hurt the other, like Remus often was with Sirius or James.

The two wolves raced each other and swam in the lake, the whole group having fun, until Sirius noticed the morning light. Dawn would break soon and Remus would transform back, they needed to get him back to the shack. Moony, however, was being more difficult than normal. 

The moment Sirius and James tried to corral him and chase him back to the shack, Moony refused. He kept wandering over to the other wolf, trying to continue to play. So James and Sirius decided that both the wolves had to be wrangled into the shack, if that was the only way to get Remus back in.

That task was incredibly difficult, Moony bouncing all over the place and the other wolf threatening to snap at the boys if they got too close. They eventually managed to lock both the wolves in the shack with minimal damage.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Remus woke on the floor of the bedroom feeling more tired than he had ever been after a full moon. He felt like he could sleep for ages. His aching body needed all the rest it could get.

Small moments from the night came back to him and suddenly…

He snapped his head toward the bed to see a sleeping figure curled up in the old and torn blankets. That feeling tingled the back of his neck again. 

The figure sat straight up, feeling the same feeling. Remus knew that face, the new girl. She made direct eye contact with him, then quickly scanned the room, unsure of where she was.

He could see she was scared, so he calmly said “It’s ok, you’re ok.”

She looked at him unsure. “W-where are we?” she asked, voice a little raw.

“This is called the shrieking shack, it's where I come… to transform.” Remus answered, still trying to calm her and get her to trust him.

“You’re the wolf I was with last night?” she asked, more like putting the pieces together.

Remus nodded. “My name’s Remus.” He smiled.

“Y/N” she answered.

“Nice to meet you Y/N.” He said, noticing how she seemed to start relaxing.

“And… that dog and the deer?” she asked.

Remus chuckled, not knowing exactly how to answer that. “They’re harmless.”

She nodded and they sat in silence for a minute before she spoke again. “I didn’t know there were others… like me.” she said.

Remus didn’t know how to talk about this with anyone, he had never met another werewolf. All he could seem to do was nod.

“H-how long have you been… you know…” she asked timidly.

Remus smiled sadly. “‘I was bitten when I was really young, about three.” He answered.

Her eyes widened and she gasped. “Three!?” she looked in disbelief. “I am so sorry, you’ve had to deal with this for a long time…”she trailed off. “I was bitten a couple years ago. That's why I transferred schools, the other one kicked me out, thought that I was a danger to the other students.”

“I am so sorry,” this time it was Remus’s turn to feel bad.

She smiled sadly. “It’s ok, besides, now I know someone else like me.”

[booksconsumeme]

ik this isn’t my usual content but my remus lupin brainrot is on 100 rn.

[moonstruckme]

hello hello lovely! so the other day i donated blood for the first time and i felt perfectly fine the whole time but then like ten minutes after i threw up with like no warning?? (im fine now turns out i hadnt eaten enough during the day!!) but anyway i was wondering if you might please do a similar scenario with emt!marauders? doesnt have to be exact of course 💗 love you!

Oh I'm sorry that happened to you babe!! Thank you for requesting <3

cw: mention of past blood draw, nausea, lightheadedness

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 798 words

You’re bent over so that your head is almost resting on your knees when a pair of shoes comes into your periphery. It seems they’ve sent someone to make sure you’re not going to pass out. 

You force yourself to sit up, every muscle in your body feeling strange and overwrought, and oh. It’s three someones. You’d worry your vision was tripling if they didn’t look each very distinct, save for their black EMT uniforms. 

The owner of the shoes you’d seen sits in the chair beside you, all brown eyes and kind, gentle features. “Hi,” he says, “I’m Remus. Are you the one who had trouble with the blood draw?” 

You sigh. “Yeah.” Give him a small smile you hope looks reassuring. “I’m fine, though. It passed quickly. I’m just waiting for the go-ahead to go home.” 

“You got sick?” A second paramedic asks you as he sits down on your other side. This one has glasses and thick, curly hair that falls just above his eyes. The third, with sleeves rolled up to display arms full of inky tattoos, leans against the wall across the hall from you. 

You’re not entirely sure which one of them to look at, but you decide upon the boy who’d asked the question. “Yeah?” 

His lips tilt with a sympathetic sort of smile. “Probably best not to be walking or driving anywhere while you’re feeling ill, love. Do you feel up to some crackers?” 

You take the package of saltines he offers you. Notice for the first time how badly your hands are shaking as you try to tear it open. He notices, too. 

“Here, I’ve got that.” He takes it back from you, ripping it open with one easy motion. As he holds it out for you, he says, “I’m James, that’s Sirius.” The tattooed paramedic shoots you a wink. 

“Nice to meet you,” you mumble. “Look, I’m really okay. They didn’t need to send three of you to check up on me.” 

Sirius laughs. “Don’t worry, babe, no one’s worried you’re going to have a seizure. We’re just a package deal.” 

“The staff is all busy with the blood drive,” offers Remus when you still look perplexed, “and we’re between calls. We just thought we’d sit with you on our break, if that’s alright.” 

“Oh.” You swallow a bite of cracker. “Yeah, okay. Thank you.” 

He gives you a soft smile. “How do you feel?” 

“I’m okay.” 

“You’re shaking down to your kneecaps,” Sirius says dryly.

“The nurse said you looked like you were going to faint after you got sick,” James tries in a lighter tone. “Do you still feel that way?” 

He keeps his eyes on yours, warm and gentle, as you chew the inside of your lip. “I don’t think so,” you say. “Just a bit weird, I guess.” 

“Weird how?” Sirius presses. 

You shrink some under his gaze, and Remus says sternly, “Sirius.” 

“You’re scaring her.” James’ hand lands on your thigh almost absentmindedly as he gives the other boy a faux glare. “Go get some juice. Begone.” 

Sirius huffs a laugh, pushing off from the wall. “Pricks,” he says as he goes. 

James turns back to you, smile turned up to full wattage. “Don’t mind him. What were you saying about how you feel weird?” 

“Just…mostly fine.” It’s impossible not to grow shy under the attention of the prettiest guys you think you’ve ever seen. Remus nods for you to continue. “A little bit nauseous, I guess, and shaky. Just…weird.” 

James makes a sympathetic sound, rubbing your thigh. The way you go shock still at the touch appears not to catch his notice. “Yeah, sounds like lightheadedness to me. S’alright, though, we’ll get you fixed up in a minute here.” 

Sirius saunters back in with a cup of orange juice. “Look,” he says as he hands it to you, “I even got her a straw to prove I’m not mean. See?” 

“I didn’t think you were being mean,” you say quietly.

Sirius grins. “No.” He chucks you gently under the chin. You shrink even further into your seat. You swear these boys are only making your trembling worse. “You never said a bad thing, gorgeous. It’s just these two, they love to tyrannize me.” 

“You could stand to be tyrannized from time to time,” says Remus. 

“Yeah,” James agrees heartily. “Keeps you from tyrannizing everyone else so much.” 

Their easy bantering brings a smile to your lips. Remus smiles back at you, nodding to your orange juice. “Take small sips of that,” he says. “Don’t drink too fast and stop if you start to feel sick again.” 

“Attagirl,” James encourages when you raise the straw to your lips obediently, rubbing your thigh again. 

They’re lucky the orange juice doesn’t come out your nose.

[rottensouldier]

--------------

It’s warm, soft light filtering through the curtains that Sirius forgot to pull closed last night. He’s on his back, staring at the ceiling, the plastic stars Remus had put up still glowing faintly. The same ones he has in his own room. There’s a moon, close to the light that Sirius insisted on having. It’s just above his head, a beacon in the night.

Remus is snoring quietly, the steady rhythm of his breathing just above the hiss of the radiator and Sirius turns. Rolling towards him, springs creaking and popping as the bed moves. He doesn’t have to worry about waking him, knows Remus will probably be out for another hour or two. Nothing but dead weight on the other side of the bed.

He’s hugging the pillow, face pressed into it, mouth parted. The furrow in his brow, the gentle expression of worry he always wears, is gone. Brow smooth, face calm. One of the few moments of the day Sirius gets to see him so serene.

Reaching out, Sirius brushes a few strands of hair off his face. He’s trying to get a better look. In the warm light, freckles blooming across his nose are just starting to appear like wildflowers fed by the sun. They line the corner of his lip, the side without the scars and Sirius trails his fingers over them.

Featherlight touch, tracing them like he’s committing them to memory. He could spend days exploring, mapping out every freckle on Remus’s face. Connecting them like constellations in the sky.

Stars surrounding the moon. Little love letters from the sun.

He’s focused, fixated on a cluster near his shoulder, disappearing in and out of the scars, when Remus moves. He sighs, chest heaving, arm moving blindly, reaching out and enveloping Sirius, pulling him in and Remus’s chest is warm.

“Love you.” he mumbles sleepily into Sirius’s forehead, lips pressed into his brow and he lets out a long breath.

“Love you too.” Sirius is right against him, nose to throat, arms wrapping around Remus’s waist. “You don’t want me to start breakfast?”

“Five more minutes.”

- one shot by @midnighttomoscow 💗

[pretty-little-mind33]

Congrats on 3K! Thats amazing! Could I please request "Not to be dramatic, but... I would jump off a cliff for you." with James Potter?

SKY'S 3K CELEBRATION

thank you!! 🫶💗

~ 🎶 ~

"Not to be dramatic, but I would jump off a cliff for you," James says matter-of-factly as you and your friends sit around the fire in the Gryffindor Common room. Lily and Mary are curled up on the couch, with Mary tracing patterns on Lily's palm and they look down at James.

He has your head in his lap as you rest your eyes, humming.

"Why would you need to jump off a cliff, Potter?" Lily asks, confused.

James shrugs, his cheeks a little pink from the fire-whiskey. "I don't know. Do I need a reason?" He says and continues to play with your hair. The girls look even more puzzled.

Sirius laughs from beside you, knocking over one of Peter's pawns as the latter groans. He always looses against Sirius in chess. "You said you aren't trying to be dramatic, Prongs, but that's the most dramatic thing I've heard all day."

Remus, who is in the armchair closest to the fire doesn't even look up from his book. "He doesn't actually mean it. It's a hyperbole."

James sits up a little, bothering your rest and you slap his leg. "It isn't! I do mean it!" he slurs. You smile, turning around so your ear is resting on his thigh as you open your eyes and watch the fire for a moment.

"I don't want you to jump off a cliff for me, love," you yawn, enjoying his hand in your hair. You know he's a little tipsy and when he gets tipsy, he gets even more dramatic than he usually is.

James rolls his eyes. "That isn't the point! The point is I would! I'd die for you!"

"Very Romeo and Juliet of you, James," Lily laughs and James looks like he doesn't understand. "Nevermind," she adds and turns her attention back to Mary.

You sit up on your knees, fixing your hair and pressing a kiss to James's flushed cheek. "I appreciate it, Jamie," you say and your boyfriend beams. He looks like a love sick fool the moment your lips hit his cheek.

"I just love you so much, I'd do anything for you," James says and squeezes your hand. His pupils are super dilated and you tilt your head. He needs rest now. He looks like he'll pass out.

"So would I, love," you smile and stand, yawning as you help him up to. James's attaches himself to you and you gasp, falling over onto the couch next to Mary and Lily, who look equally amused and annoyed.

"Jamie," you laugh as he nuzzles into you.

"I love you," James whispers breathlessly. He's holding onto you like his life depends on it. You lay his head and run your hand on his curls.

"I love you too," you tell him honestly and gently push him off you. You help him up as he clutches at your robes and inhales your hair.

Sirius laughs and sends you a wink. "Your boyfriend is a mess there."

You stick out your tongue at him and kiss James's cheek again, which earns you a happy hum.

Yes, James is a mess. But he's your mess and you wouldn't change it for the world.

[prettydaisygirl]

OMG. I cant beleive I found a new writer who can feed my james potter delusion! Generally I'm a silent supporter but after reading your Aus, you literally have unlocked a new part of my brain. Your ideas are truly amazing ❤️ pls keep blessing us with your works🙏🏻

I feel like the au idea which I have in mind you can really express it.so may I pls request a college au with fratjames potter x reader.where they both are acquaintance and something happens.due to some misunderstanding reader is the receiving end of James wrath.after realising his mistake he makes a sweet apology gesture to reader and wants to get in her good books.

It's just a just my apology if you couldn't really get the idea( english is my 2nd language and I don't feel confident in it)

P.s pls feel free to ignore it ❤️Have a wonderful Day/Night💗

Hello, my love! Thank you so much for the request! This is my first request so I'm a little nervous haha, I hope this is what you were looking for :) Your words are so sweet, and you really made my day! Also, I'm kind of obsessed with frat!James now... Have a wonderful day/night yourself, lovely <3

frat!James Potter x fem!reader who was supposed to bring the beer ✿ 1.4k words

cw: fem reader, marauders as frat bros, alcohol (or lack thereof), armed store robbery with a gun (not described in detail), reader is James' lab partner

james potter masterlist

°˖✧✿✧˖°

part two

James is having a bad night. It’s 8pm on a Friday and he hasn’t had a single drop of alcohol yet. This is unusual, especially given the music blaring through the frat house with enough bass to shake the foundation. There are dozens of people here. Most of them know James even if he doesn’t know them, which is great until it isn’t.

Another one approaches him, some guy by the name of Marty or something.

“Dude,” The guy raises his arms and James’ annoyance skyrockets. He already knows what this guy is about to say. “Where’s the beer?”

“I know,” James grunts at him. Barty, that’s it. “I’m working on it.”

Barty scoffs but James is already pushing past him. He pushes through the crowd, many of whom move quickly to get out of his way. His eyes scan through, looking for someone in particular.

Where the hell are you?

James makes his way to the kitchen, seeing the counters still bare and no sign of you anywhere. He curses under his breath and pulls out his phone, scrolling through his contact list. Just as he presses the call button, Sirius approaches him. James holds up a hand but Sirius speaks anyway.

“Prongs, where are the drinks? If one more Alpha Tau tells me my party sucks, I might go to prison.” James just glares at Sirius’ dramatics, the phone ringing endlessly in his ear. It goes to voicemail and he hangs up with a groan. 

“I thought you said you handled it!” Sirius stresses just as Remus walks into the kitchen, beelining for the two of them.

“I did!” James argues, running a hand through his already unruly hair with a huff. 

“What’s going on?” Remus asks, crossing his arms and looking between James and Sirius with a narrowed stare. “Is this about the beer?”

“Yes!” Sirius stresses again, and points at James, “It’s James’ week to get drinks. But here we are, at 8pm on Friday and…” Sirius gestures to the empty countertops. “No drinks!”

“You tell ‘em, Sirius!” James hears Barty shout from across the kitchen and James fears he and Sirius might both end up in prison together. 

“I thought I handled it.” James tells both of his frat brothers, shrugging a bit.

“What does that mean?” Remus asks, his brow furrowing. “Did you buy the drinks or not?”

James at least has the decency to look sheepish, running a hand over the back of his hair as he inhales through his teeth. “I may have… asked my lab partner to get it for me.”

Sirius gasps, raising a hand to his chest as though clutching his pearls, “I thought pawning drinks off on someone else was against the rules!”

“It is.” Remus tells Sirius, looking at James with an expectant stare. 

“I was using it as an excuse for us to meet up, you know? So the two of us can hang out…” James feels his stomach churn when Sirius’ face bends into a knowing smirk. 

“Oh, I understand…” Sirius winks at James, “To ‘hang out.’” His air quotes make Remus roll his eyes and James glare harshly.

“Someone needs to go get drinks.” Remus reminds the two of them. The party crowd is getting routier behind him. 

“James, it’s your week, so off you go.” Sirius nudges James toward the front door. “You never know, you might find your lover along the way!” 

“Oi, fuck off!” James calls back to him right as the door slams closed behind him. 

As he begins the trek to the store, he attempts to call you several times. Every attempt is met with voicemail. He texts you, and all of them are left unread. James finds frustration and anger building in his gut, not solely from the lack of alcohol but also from being stood up, apparently. James Potter has never been stood up in his life. 

On his seventh attempt to call you, it doesn’t even ring. It goes straight to voicemail. His jaw clenches and his fists ball up and he finds himself spewing words he shouldn’t say, airing his frustrations out to you. He calls you things like selfish and rude, and even a bad friend. 

By the time he turns onto the last street, his anger has mostly turned into disappointment. He’d really been looking forward to seeing you tonight, and though it hadn’t been to sleep with you like Sirius had suggested, he had been considering it your first date. 

James is lost in thought as he approaches the store, steps scraping gently across the pavement. He’s thinking about what he might say to you during your lab on Monday when he hears your voice. It catches his attention immediately and he looks up, eyes searching for you. 

There you are, just as pretty as always, but something’s wrong. You’re standing in front of the store, tear-stains evident on your cheeks as you speak to a police officer. James’ heart sinks into his stomach and he’s by your side before he can stop himself.

“Hey,” His voice is low and soothing, more comforting than he thought he could be but you look up at him like he’s saved your life and his heart pounds. “What’s going on?” 

James’ eyes dart nervously between you and the police officer, but the uniformed man shakes his head a bit. “I’ve got everything I need. You gon’ be okay?” James is a bit confused but he realizes the officer’s words are directed at you when he sees you nodding.

“Yes, sir. Thank you very much.” Your voice is a bit choked and you wipe at your cheeks before turning to him. He feels like he needs to scoop you up in his arms, to do something to help put you back together and get that look out of your eyes. 

“What happened?” James’ hands reach for your arms, settling on your elbows. His thumbs brush over your skin soothingly and you feel tears burning in your eyes again at his gentle movements.

“I was…” You swallow thickly when your voice cracks, “I was trying to get the drinks for your party and some guy came in and he was yelling at the cashier, and he… he had a gun, and I didn’t know what to do and you kept calling me and I was trying to answer but-”

James shushes you before you can continue spiraling, shaking his head. Guilt surges through him, knowing what his texts say. And that voicemail…

“Don’t worry about it.” He assures you, and his dark eyes meet yours. “Is it okay if I hug you?” As soon as you nod, he wraps you in a tight embrace, like he really is trying to put you back together. You both stand like that for a long moment until he feels your body relax, your soft sigh brushing his ear in a puff of warm air. 

James pulls back and moves to cup your face with one hand, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You tell him with a soft nod and an even softer smile. It’s one that gives James butterflies and he suddenly feels bad having you look at him like that when…

“Just… delete all of those texts from me.” He says, and your brow furrows, lips parting a bit to question him but he speaks again before you can. “And please don’t listen to that voicemail.”

You look to the side before your eyes meet his again, a confused smile on your lips. “What? Why, what did you say?” The smile fades when James doesn’t play off his words like he always does.

“Okay, I’ll delete them.” His face relaxes a bit at your words and he looks back up at the shop. He hears his text notification sound, but he ignores it, his eyes settling on your face again instead. 

“Do you… Are you still coming to the party?” He asks, and he hates the way desperation is plain in his tone. 

“I was hoping to, yeah.” Your smile turns a bit shy and sweet now and James beams, his hands on your shoulders.

“Okay, great! So we’ll get drinks and then walk back together!” His smile falters and he hesitates then, looking back at the store. “Actually, you wait here. I’ll go get drinks. You don’t need to come back inside.” Your heart almost breaks at his consideration for your feelings. You move up on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Okay,” You say, “I’ll be waiting right here.” 

°˖✧✿✧˖°

© prettydaisygirl

[shadesofhogwarts]

Smothered

(6) Poly! marauders x reader

Wordcount: 4.5k

A/n) I give you my beloved brain child. Enjoy💗

It started soft, like most dangerous things do.

The three of them– James with his infectious laugh and warm brown eyes, Sirius with that sharp grin and chaotic charm, and Remus with his steady calm and too-knowing glances– had always been a little magnetic. But you were never the kind of person to orbit stars. You stayed in your own little galaxy, tucked between the pages of your books and the corners of the common room.

But stars? Stars had gravity.

You don’t remember who first started drawing you in. It didn’t start with fireworks. No grand confessions, no lingering glances across candlelit rooms. Just... laughter. A joke at breakfast. A too-long glance during Charms. A comment tossed your way that made you feel seen–really seen– for the first time in what felt like forever.

It didn’t feel like a trap. It felt like light. Like belonging.

And you liked it. You liked the way they saw you, the way they orbited around you– laughing, teasing, pulling you into their world. There was a golden warmth to it, something dreamy, something you told yourself not to overthink.

You’d always been on the periphery of their orbit. Not a stranger, no. Just… not one of them. Not the kind of person people whispered about in corridors or followed around with wide eyes. Not someone who got tackled by James Potter for fun, who got pulled into Sirius Black’s wild schemes, who got bookmarked by Remus Lupin in quiet libraries like a page he never wanted to lose.

You weren't sure what this was– maybe they liked you, maybe it was platonic, maybe it was all three of them just being Marauders. But whatever it was, you liked being near them. You liked being wanted.

And slowly, steadily, it started to feel like you were the fourth in a constellation.

It started with Sirius. Of course it did. He was bold like that. Too pretty for his own good, too charming to be safe. One day, you were sitting in your usual spot on the Gryffindor common room couch, curled up with a book. The next, Sirius was dropping beside you like a comet crashing into orbit.

“Whatcha reading, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart.

It wasn’t the first time someone had called you something like that. But from him, it didn’t feel like a throwaway word. It felt like the start of something.

You answered cautiously, but he didn’t tease you. He didn’t mock the book or your taste. Instead, he listened. And then he stayed. Not just that day, but every day after. Like you’d unknowingly lit a beacon he couldn’t help but follow.

James came next. With him, it wasn’t words– it was energy. He started waiting for you after class, tossing his arm around your shoulder like it belonged there. When you spoke, he turned his whole body toward you, like you were the most interesting person in the world. It was addictive, the way he paid attention. Like you were this rare bloom he’d just discovered.

Remus was the quietest of the three, but perhaps the most dangerous. He didn’t flirt, not exactly. He observed. He remembered things you didn’t expect anyone to. How you liked your tea. That you always tapped your fingers when you were thinking. That you never liked sitting with your back to the door.

He started sitting beside you in the library. Sharing notes. Asking soft, pointed questions that lingered long after the conversations ended.

It was gradual, the way they enveloped you. Not overwhelming, not at first. Just a steady current of warmth pulling you in.

You started looking forward to seeing them. Noticing the way Sirius would light up when he spotted you in the hallway, like you were the only person that mattered. How James would slide into the seat next to yours in the Great Hall before you even sat down. How Remus would subtly angle his body toward you during group conversations, nodding along like he was reading the subtext in your silences.

And God, it felt good. Like you belonged. Like you’d slipped into some unspoken rhythm that had always existed, just waiting for you to join.

You didn’t question it. Not at first.

They were affectionate in a way that was uniquely theirs. Touchy, loud, loyal. They fought and flirted and tangled themselves into people’s lives without asking. But with you... there was a softness. A reverence. A way they carved out space for you between them, as if they’d already made room long ago.

It was James who started calling you ours in front of others.

“She’s ours, don’t even try it,” he said one night at a party when some seventh year tried to flirt with you. He was grinning when he said it, his tone light– but there was something dark in the way Sirius laughed beside him. Something heavy in the way Remus’s hand brushed against your wrist and stayed.

The word echoed in your chest long after.

You laughed it off. Because what else were you supposed to do?

...

There were moments– little ones– that made your stomach twist in strange ways. Like how Sirius would watch you when you laughed, gaze lingering too long, like he was memorizing your joy and cataloguing it for later. Or how James’s touches, casual as they seemed, always found the most intimate places– your knee, your lower back, the curve of your neck. Or the way Remus would say your name like a prayer, low and deliberate, like he was tasting it.

But they never crossed lines. Not really. They were just them. And you… you were just grateful to be let in.

You told yourself it didn’t mean anything. That the touches were friendly. That the looks were coincidental. That the flutter in your chest was just the high of attention.

But deep down, you knew.

Something was shifting. Becoming heavier.

And you liked it.

At least– at first.

...

There’s a sweet spot in every story. A moment where everything feels right– not too much, not too little. Just enough to make your heart swell, to make your cheeks warm, to make you believe maybe, maybe, this is something real.

You stayed in that moment longer than you should have.

The four of you moved like a constellation now. People started whispering in hallways– not maliciously, not cruelly. Just curious. Observing. Wondering if something was happening between you and the infamous trio of Gryffindor. If they’d chosen you. If you were theirs.

You didn't know how to answer.

Because how do you explain something that doesn’t have a name?

It wasn’t like you were dating. Not really. But it also wasn’t not like that. Sirius would walk you to class with his hand brushing against yours until it finally just slipped into place. James would sit with his legs wide open and tug you to sit between them like it was the most natural thing in the world. Remus would rest his chin on your shoulder while reading over your essays and hum in approval at your phrasing like it mattered deeply to him.

They each gave you something different, something impossible to refuse. Sirius gave thrill– he lit you up, made you laugh so hard your stomach hurt, made your blood fizz. James gave warmth– this overwhelming, honest devotion that made you feel chosen. And Remus? He gave depth. He saw you in quiet moments when no one else did, noticed when you were too tired to keep up the banter, and never made you feel like you had to.

And you?

You gave yourself in little pieces. A laugh here. A secret there. A touch, a look, a shared silence.

And they soaked you up like they’d been starving.

It became routine– the way they'd save you a seat without asking, the way they'd pull you into their dorm after dinner just to “hang out,” the way they'd always touch. Not always intimately, but constantly. Hands in your hair, arms around your waist, fingers trailing your spine. Sirius would trace shapes on your thigh under the table during meals. James would whisper into your ear and rest his cheek on yours. Remus would brush his hand over your knuckles while reading beside you and not let go.

It was fine.

It was fine.

It was fine… until it wasn’t.

...

The shift came quietly. Like a slow fog rolling in over a familiar street.

You didn’t notice it at first.

You noticed how Sirius stopped joking when someone else tried to sit next to you. How James’s laugh would flatten if you paid too much attention to someone who wasn’t them. How Remus started showing up wherever you were, book in hand, gaze cool but unmistakably observant.

You told yourself it was sweet. That they cared. That they were just protective, not possessive.

But then the looks started changing.

Not just admiring. Hungry. Eyes sweeping over you like you were something to be devoured. Like they were waiting for something– some permission, some shift– so they could claim you for real.

Sirius would stare. Not always. But enough. Long enough for your skin to crawl, even if he smiled afterward like it was nothing. James stopped joking about you being “ours” and started saying it like a fact. No grin. No wink. Just a quiet, loaded certainty.

Remus– God, even Remus– had started to ask questions.

“Where were you this afternoon?”

“Who were you talking to?”

“Why didn’t you come sit with us?”

Each one posed gently, but laced with that soft steel Remus always kept hidden under his calm. You realized, belatedly, that his sweetness wasn’t softness– it was intent disguised.

It didn’t feel like you were part of something anymore. It felt like you were caught in it.

Their affection, once warm and glowy, started to press on you like a too-tight blanket. You couldn’t breathe without feeling their eyes on you. Couldn’t laugh with someone else without feeling their moods shift. Couldn’t even sit alone without one of them finding you and sliding into your space like they owned it.

You wanted to tell yourself you were overreacting.

But the dread had started.

You’d walk into a room, and Sirius’s head would snap toward you like a predator scenting prey. James would straighten, eyes gleaming like he was proud– possessive. Remus would close his book, fold his hands, and watch you walk in like you were a show.

And you?

You’d feel it. That pulse of something heavy and hot. Not fear exactly. Not discomfort exactly.

But not right either.

They never touched you in a way you didn’t allow. Never said anything wrong. But their presence grew weighty. Sticky. Too much.

It got hard to smile at them. To laugh. Even when you tried.

You’d catch Sirius watching your mouth too intently. You’d feel James’s arm tighten around your shoulders just a bit too long. You’d catch Remus looking at you like he already knew something you hadn’t said– and it made your stomach turn.

And then one day, it happened.

You walked into the common room. James looked up immediately, like he’d been waiting. Sirius grinned lazily and spread his arms in invitation. Remus tilted his head, soft and steady like always, eyes unreadable.

And your skin crawled.

Something in you recoiled. Hard.

Their faces– all so familiar, all so adored once– felt like too much. Sirius’s grin looked wolfish. James’s brightness looked invasive. Remus’s gaze felt like a mirror you didn’t want to look into.

And suddenly, you couldn’t do it anymore.

The couch where they always made space for you? A trap.

The laughter you once chased? A net.

Their closeness? A wall.

Their eyes? Cages.

You didn’t even realize you were backing away until Remus blinked and said, too gently, “You’re not sitting?”

Your throat dried. You shook your head, murmured something– anything– and walked out.

Their eyes followed you all the way to the door.

...

You didn’t mean to avoid them.

Not at first.

You told yourself it was just a break– a breather. That the discomfort, the suffocation, was temporary. That you’d come back to yourself and it would all feel sweet again. That maybe you were just overwhelmed. Tired.

But the truth was… you couldn’t look at them anymore.

You tried. You did. But Sirius’s smirk made your stomach turn now. James’s bright eyes felt invasive, like he was always watching, waiting. And Remus– Remus with his unreadable calm– he looked at you like he was already ten steps ahead. Like he knew what you were doing. Like he was just letting you play it out.

And that made it worse.

Because you didn’t want to be watched.

You didn’t want to be read like a book.

You didn’t want to be wanted this hard.

It felt like being submerged– like no matter where you turned, you couldn’t come up for air. Their eyes were everywhere. Their presence, even in absence, pressed at you. The common room felt too full. The corridors too loud. The castle too small.

And everything they did now felt wrong.

Sirius’s laugh? Too loud. Too manic.

James’s constant loyalty? Clingy.

Remus’s gaze? Intrusive. Dissecting.

The same hands that once rested on your back like comfort now felt like claims. Their glances once made your cheeks flush with fondness– now they made your skin crawl.

The more they tried, the worse it got.

James cornered you after Transfiguration.

“Hey,” he said, too soft. “Everything okay?”

You forced a smile. “Yeah. Just tired.”

But he didn’t buy it. Of course he didn’t. He looked at you like he was trying to peel the truth out of you.

“I miss you,” he added, voice cracking slightly. “We all do.”

And that– God, that– made your stomach twist into something sharp and bitter.

Because you hadn’t even pulled away all the way yet. And already they were aching for you.

You couldn’t bear it.

You mumbled something– nothing– and escaped.

Sirius found you later. Half-smirk, eyes glinting, still so Sirius it should have felt like home.

“Ghosting us, sweetheart?” he teased, sliding in beside you at the library table, like he hadn’t been haunting your mind for days.

You didn’t answer. You didn’t even look at him.

Because if you did, you knew it would show on your face.

The ick.

The shift.

The sudden, inexplicable desire to push him away. To flinch when he leaned in. To run.

Because his presence– his everything– felt like a trap now. A beautiful one, yes. But a trap nonetheless.

And worst of all?

You hated yourself for it.

You hated how disgusted you felt by the people who had once made you laugh so hard you nearly cried. You hated the way their smiles now read as manipulation. You hated how their kindness felt weaponized. You hated that they hadn’t really done anything wrong– and yet, you wanted to burn the whole thing down.

You didn’t want to talk.

You didn’t want to explain.

You didn’t want to be perceived.

And every time one of them tried to reach you, it made it worse.

You started taking alternate routes to class. Sitting at the edge of the room. Leaving the common room early. Ducking out of conversations. Becoming small. Distant. Detached.

Because if you stayed too long, you'd start shaking with the need to scream:

"Leave me alone. You don’t own me. Stop looking at me like I belong to you."

You couldn’t even find their faces attractive anymore. Sirius’s sharp jaw and James’s broad grin and Remus’s honey-brown eyes– ick. The ick was everywhere. On their hands, on their voices, on their jokes. On their care.

And maybe the worst part was: a tiny part of you still wanted to be held.

But not like that.

Not by them.

Not when it felt like drowning.

...

It was bound to happen. You knew it. You could feel the tension gathering like a storm behind your back.

There were only so many times you could say "I'm just tired" before someone called your bluff.

And unsurprisingly, it was Remus.

He cornered you outside the library, somewhere quiet and tucked away where people didn’t usually linger. Somewhere you couldn't just vanish.

You froze when you saw him.

He didn’t say your name softly, not like James. He didn’t lean in with playful charm, not like Sirius. He just looked at you– sharp and serious, like a professor about to hand back a failed paper.

“I’m not stupid,” he said.

You blinked.

“You’re avoiding us. Me. All of us.”

There it was. Blunt. Flat. Impossible to dodge.

You wanted to run. You really, really did.

But you didn’t.

You stood your ground. And for a moment, you wondered if this was what you’d been waiting for all along. A reason. A break. Someone to put their foot down so you didn’t have to tiptoe anymore.

“I know,” you whispered. “I just… needed space.”

Remus’s jaw tightened. His arms crossed.

“You needed space,” he repeated slowly, like it was a word in a foreign language he didn’t understand. “From what? From people who care about you? Who love you?”

That word– it hit you like a slap.

Love.

You never said that word.

You never asked for it.

It was like they poured it on you without warning. Drenched you in it. And then looked surprised when you couldn't breathe.

“I didn’t ask for any of this,” you murmured, eyes darting away.

Remus’s voice sharpened. “Didn’t you?”

You looked up sharply.

He regretted it the second it left his mouth– you saw it in the flicker of guilt. But he didn’t take it back. Just watched you quietly, waiting.

You bit the inside of your cheek. Hard.

So that’s how it was.

You didn’t get to feel strange, or overwhelmed, or uncomfortable. Because to them, the beginning– the late nights and shared laughter and inside jokes– meant something. And maybe they did to you too. Maybe you had wanted them. At one point.

But now?

Now it felt like they were asking you to carry a boulder you never picked up.

“I liked you,” you said quietly. “All of you. I did.”

Remus didn’t move.

“But it got too much,” you continued. “Too intense. Too fast. I didn’t know how to stop it without feeling like the bad guy.”

The silence between you stretched long and tight.

And then, just as he opened his mouth to speak, the other two showed up.

James and Sirius. Of course.

“Moony, we’ve been looking for– ”

James stopped when he saw your face.

And Sirius? Sirius didn’t say anything. He just looked at you, blinking slow. Expression unreadable.

You wanted to disappear.

“What’s going on?” James asked, voice low and cautious, like he already knew the answer.

“I’m pulling away,” you said.

They all froze.

You said it again, firmer this time. “I’m pulling away. I have been.”

James looked stunned.

Sirius’s mouth twitched– something bitter creeping in.

“Why?” he asked flatly. “Because we liked you too much?”

You swallowed. “Because I felt owned. Watched. Tied down. Like every step I took had to be filtered through how it would affect you. Like I became a mirror instead of a person.”

“That’s not fair,” James said, quietly.

“No,” you agreed. “But it’s how I feel.”

You didn’t need them to understand. You just needed them to know.

And standing there, under the weight of three pairs of eyes– three hearts cracking open– you finally realized what you had been running from.

It wasn’t them.

It was the version of you they loved. The bright one. The affectionate one. The one who always smiled back, who never flinched at closeness.

But you weren’t her anymore. Not to them.

And that version?

She wasn’t coming back.

...

You didn’t cry after you walked away.

You didn’t feel relieved, either.

You just felt… hollow.

It wasn’t like you’d set fire to anything. You hadn’t shouted. You hadn’t accused. You hadn’t been cruel. But it still felt like you’d shattered something sacred. Something that once felt tender and beautiful and safe.

And maybe that was what stung the most.

Because it wasn’t supposed to end like this.

Not in silence. Not with three boys left standing in a corridor, eyes full of questions and hurt and a kind of quiet disbelief. James had looked like he might run after you. Sirius had looked like he wanted to be angry, but couldn’t quite summon the energy. Remus– Remus hadn’t said anything at all. And that silence had hurt worst of all.

You found yourself retracing old patterns.

Avoiding certain halls. Choosing library tables far from the windows. Turning corners with caution. Walking faster, smiling less, vanishing more.

The castle adjusted to your absence the way water accepts a stone– ripples, and then stillness.

But even in stillness, they were everywhere.

You saw James’s scarf draped over a chair and felt your stomach flip. You heard Sirius’s laugh echo down the hallway and flinched like it was thunder. You spotted Remus’s annotated copy of Great Expectations in the study lounge and felt your chest squeeze around something sour and sharp.

You didn’t miss them.

You missed before.

Before the shift. Before the pressure. Before the invisible leash tightened around your neck.

And yet…

You still looked for them.

Out of habit. Out of guilt. Out of some strange, twisted longing for a version of them that didn’t exist anymore. A version that knew when to stop. That didn’t push and smother and cling.

It had been a few days– maybe a week– before any of them approached you again.

And, of course, it was James.

He didn’t corner you. Didn’t crowd. Just sat beside you in the courtyard one crisp afternoon, quietly, like you were strangers again. He didn’t say hi. He didn’t smile.

He just said:

“I’ve been thinking.”

You didn’t look up from your book.

“’Bout what?”

“About how we didn’t ask.”

You blinked.

“We never asked what you wanted,” James said softly, picking at a blade of grass. “We just… liked you. And we kept showing it. Loudly. Constantly.”

Your fingers stilled on the page.

“I didn’t realize it made you feel like you had no room to breathe.”

Your throat tightened.

“And I’m sorry for that.”

You finally looked at him. He wasn’t looking at you.

Just at the sky, like the clouds might give him an answer to everything that had gone wrong.

“You were the best thing that happened to us,” he said. “But we were too greedy with it.”

The words settled in your chest like dust. Not heavy, not painful. Just… present.

“I don’t hate you,” you murmured.

He smiled a little. Sad. “We know.”

“I just needed air.”

James nodded, like he understood now– truly understood– and for the first time in weeks, you felt seen again. Not wanted. Not adored. Just… seen.

And it was enough.

...

Things didn’t go back to the way they were.

Not immediately. Maybe not ever.

There were no dramatic apologies in the rain, no desperate declarations under starlight. No one ran down corridors, panting with love or regret. The world didn’t stop for your grief. It just kept turning– gently, indifferently.

And in that quiet turning, something began to mend.

Not with grand gestures. Not with heavy stares or suffocating closeness. But with a nod in the hallway. A cup of tea left beside your book in the common room. A joke slipped into conversation that didn’t ask you to laugh– just invited you to if you felt like it.

You began to breathe again.

And they let you.

James no longer dropped everything to orbit you. Instead, he passed by, offered a soft “Hey,” and walked on. That space, that freedom– it was oxygen. Sirius, who used to look at you like you were something to devour, started looking at you like you were something to understand. Less fire. More gaze. And Remus– God, Remus– he gave you the most precious thing of all: patience.

You never unlearned the feeling.

Even in that peace, even in the softer way they treated you now– there was always that memory. That subtle dread curled up somewhere in your ribs. A flicker of what if it happens again?

What if their affection grows teeth?

What if they forget how to leave you be?

What if their love turns loud again, hungry again, and you’re back where you started– trying to smile with lungs full of smoke?

You didn’t pretend it wasn’t possible. You didn’t tell yourself, Oh, they’ve changed forever. You didn’t romanticize their restraint like it was some love language.

No.

You carried that knowing like a stone in your pocket– not to weigh you down, but to ground you.

Because you changed.

You stopped being the girl who mistook their intensity for warmth. You stopped thinking attention always meant care. You stopped letting love mean losing yourself.

You didn’t go back to them as the same girl who once swooned under their gaze.

You returned as someone who could say “No.” As someone who could walk away again, if she had to. Someone who would.

That made all the difference.

There were days when you still flinched at too much attention. Days when you saw them laugh together and felt a pang of guilt, as though your honesty had fractured something golden. But more and more, that ache began to feel like… growing pains.

They stopped treating you like a prize.

You stopped treating yourself like a villain.

And slowly, you came back to them– not because you had to, not because they asked– but because you chose to.

You let Sirius walk beside you down to the greenhouses without touching you. You shared tea with Remus again, letting the quiet stretch between you without pressure. And one evening, when the common room was buzzing and your eyes were heavy, James wordlessly offered you his sweater– nothing more.

You took it.

It was soft and warm and smelled like firewood and lavender and a little bit like safety.

Something new was growing in that sweater. In the quiet tea. In the space between footsteps.

Something smaller than love. Gentler.

Not obsession. Not infatuation.

Just care.

The thing about love– real love– is that it doesn’t just live in how someone looks at you.

It lives in how they listen when you say, “That’s too much.” It lives in how they pull back when you need air, even if it bruises them a little to do it.

So no– you didn’t forget.

You remembered everything.

And you still walked back.

Not because you forgot who they were.

But because you knew who you were now.

And you were someone who could leave the moment love tried to hold you too tight.

But this time?

They loved you without holding too tight.

And that’s how you knew it was real.