lucentloo

[lucentloo]

My Sun, My Moon, My Stars

Summary: You and Regulus get some alone time during a Slytherin party but get interrupted. Barty needs to learn his manners.

Wc: 1308

Regulus Black x Fem!reader

Content Warnings: There is Partyvan people, take it or leave it, it's up to you, kissing, no actual smut since I am a Minor! sex innuendoes though because why not, fluff, the smallest bit of angst but it's not even noticeable, established relationship, there is also Wolfstar! Everyone say yay! There is mentioned alcohol consumption, that's it but as always if you see something I missed please tell me!

A/n: Hey Guys! This is officially my eighth fic and I'm dying right now. I know it's been a while but I'm back! Finals have been kicking my butt and you'll probably won't see anything in this blog until they are over, I might be kidding with you though, who knows. I might make another fic related to this one about that one moment in the middle (no spoilers) if this does well, we'll see, have fun reading!

The muffled sounds of the party outside Regulus' door create a distant hum, the vibrant music and bursts of laughter fading into the background as you lose yourself in the warmth of his presence. Your lips meet his with a fervent sweetness, a cascade of gentle kisses that speak volumes of your affection. With your legs wrapped around his waist, you can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against you, while his hands rest softly on your hips, grounding you in this intimate moment that feels both fleeting and eternal.

In the midst of the looming pressure of your impending NEWTs, these tender exchanges feel like a precious sanctuary. The anxiety of impending exams had consumed your thoughts, filling the hours with solitary study sessions in the library, but tonight, amidst the swirling emotions and hushed excitement of the night before, a party had erupted in the Slytherin dorms—a spirited attempt to shake off the pre-test jitters.

As you reluctantly pull back from the kiss, a frown creases your brow, eliciting a concerned furrow in Regulus' features. He shifts his hand from your hip to gently cradle your cheek, his touch soft and reassuring. With a whisper that feels like a secret shared just between the two of you, he asks, “What’s wrong, mon coeur?” His thumb grazes your bottom lip, the intimacy of the moment wrapping around you both like a warm embrace, inviting you to confide your worries beneath the cozy silence you’ve created.

Your frown deepens, morphing into a playful pout as you gaze up at him, your tone laced with mock frustration. “Pay attention to me,” you insist, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

Regulus, once furrowed in concern, now wears an expression of bewilderment. “We were just making out two minutes ago,” he points out, his fingers slipping from your cheek down to your thigh, where he absent-mindedly strokes the soft fabric of your jeans.

“I don't see your point?” you retort, a smirk dancing on your lips as you lean in, your breath mingling with his as you launch into another round of fervent kisses. “I’ve. missed. you. so. Much.” Each word punctuated by the warmth of your lips against his, a desperate plea wrapped in affection.

A rare smile flashes across Regulus’s face, breaking through the seriousness that often shadows him. He holds your shoulders gently, pulling you back just enough to meet your gaze. “I’ve missed you too, lovely,” he admits, his voice softening. “But are you sure that’s all? I don’t want to overlook your feelings like last time.” The last part escapes him in a tender whisper, his brow still slightly knitted with concern.

You search his eyes, feeling a mixture of warmth and understanding swell within you. A sigh escapes your lips as you reach up, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek, then another on the tip of his nose. “You didn’t mean to, and you've been making such an effort now,” you reassure him softly. “You don’t have to worry.”

Regulus flashes another warm smile, leaning in close to whisper tenderly in your ear, “It’s my job to worry.” His lips brush softly against the sensitive skin behind your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. He pulls back, his gaze intense and filled with love, searching your eyes. A smile, radiant and genuine, spreads across your lips as you feel a flutter of happy anticipation in your chest, drawing you closer to him for another kiss.

This kiss is deeper, more passionate than the teasing brushes of moments before. Regulus wraps his strong arms around your waist, pulling you in so that your bodies meld together, hearts racing in synchrony. The world outside fades into a blur as you both lose yourselves in each other, but suddenly, the door swings open with a loud creak, shattering the intimate bubble you’ve created.

“And then the—” Barty’s exuberant voice halts mid-sentence, his eyes going wide as he discovers you and Regulus entwined on the bed. “Oh my Merlin! Get a room, you freaks!” he bellows, bursting into the room with Evan and Peter trailing behind him, their expressions a mix of shock and amusement.

Embarrassment washes over you, and you instinctively bury your face in Regulus’ shoulder, your cheeks heating like a furnace. “We are in a room, Barty; you walked in,” Regulus retorts coolly in his typical monotone, the warmth and joy of just moments ago dissipating as he gently runs his fingers up and down your back, offering silent comfort.

Barty, undeterred and clearly loving the chaos he’s created, plops down on his own bed with a mischievous grin. “And are you still terrorizing that poor Gryffindor? Let Pettigrew go,” Regulus sighs in exasperation when he notices Barty tugging Peter over to sit with him. With a playful peck on Peter’s cheek, Barty earns a blush that mirrors your own, illuminating the room with its shared embarrassment and chaotic energy.

Regulus leaned against the wall, his expression tense as he warned, “My brother’s not going to let this slide, Barty. You know what happened last time.” His tone carried a weight of concern that shadowed the bravado he tried to project. 

Barty, unyielding and brimming with misplaced pride, shot back, “He can fight me all he wants; Pete’s not going anywhere.” His defiance was palpable, filling the dimly lit room with an air of recklessness. On the floor, Evan rolled his eyes, his body collapsing onto the carpet beside the two boys. As he settled down, he closed his eyes, trying to drown out the escalating conversation that swirled around him like a restless storm.

Curiosity nudged at you, and in a barely audible whisper, you asked, “Where is your brother? Last I saw, he was with that tall, lanky boy.” Your voice was soft, but the room fell into an unexpected silence, everyone catching your question with wary ears.

Peter, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, replied with a slight grimace etched across his face. “Sirius and Remus had a bit of a spat; you don’t want to know where they’re at,” he said, the hint of concern shadowing his words.

A flicker of realization sparked in your mind, and you bit back a smile. That ‘tall, lanky guy’ you had inquired about was none other than a good friend, cherished by both you and Regulus. The thought of Sirius and Remus finding their way back to each other filled you with warmth, a quiet hope nestled in the chaos of the moment.

As the evening wore on, the easy cadence of conversation began to ebb, and you felt the weariness creep into your bones. Perhaps you had indulged in one too many drinks before trailing after Regulus to his dorm room, and now the effects were catching up to you like a gentle wave pulling you under.

With a soft sigh, you opted to follow Evans' suggestion. He had already succumbed to a deep sleep on the carpet, his breathing steady and tranquil, while Barty lovingly played with strands of his hair, a serene picture of camaraderie. You closed your eyes, surrendering to the warmth and comfort surrounding you.

Regulus sat close by, his presence radiating a soothing energy. As you nestled against him, he felt the flutter of your eyelashes against his chest and, in a tender gesture, pressed his lips to the crown of your head. 

“Goodnight, mon coeur,” he whispered, his voice a melodic caress that wrapped around you. “You are my sun, my moon, and all of my stars.” 

A smile curled against his skin as you mumbled back, “E. E. Cummings,” your words barely coherent but laced with affection. You sensed his response in the way his embrace tightened just a fraction, as if gripping onto the warmth of the moment just a little bit longer.

[lucentloo]

Good morning/night Mae! I was wondering if there were any other Marauders Fic writers you could recommend? This is nothing against your writing!! I’ve just read them all and am looking for new blogs to check out! Love you and stay safe!

Oh no worries I would never expect you to read only my fics haha--here's a list of blogs I go to when I need a fix :) (they're not all active atm, but all have great marauders content for you to read in their masterlists)

@ellecdc @fourmoony @velvetcloxds @kquil @writtenbymoonflower @bruisedboys @randomoutsiders @upsidedownwithsteve @inkdrinkerworld @ddejavvu @cosmal @luveline @mareagirls

[lucentloo]

That’s because you are!! Elle, (I’m sorry if I’m not allowed to call you that) you and @moonstruckme are the whole reason I started this blog!! You are a big deal! (In a good way)

Guys I’m not freaking out I’m NOT freaking out IM NOT FREAKING OUT

I’m freaking out

@ellecdc just liked and reblogged one of my posts!!! OMG

I’m totally fangirling right now you have no idea

[lucentloo]

I’d like to sincerely apologize to anyone who had the misfortune of witnessing my multiple themes

I wanted to change it but my indecisiveness decided (no pun intended) to try everything so now I’m just locking in with what I’ve got and I am not changing anything else

[lucentloo]

Behind Closed Doors

Summary: Barty steals you between classes to make up for the time he lost.

Wc: 1428

Barty Crouch Jr x Potter!fem!reader

Content Warnings: Kissing, Gildroy warning (idk how to actually spell his name and I'm too lazy to search it up), fem reader, secret relationship, shy-ish reader, mention of Gildroy being touchy, Barty not liking Gildroy being touchy, that's all but please let me know if there are any that I missed!

A/N: Guys when I was writing this I spilled some pop on my computer and had a mini heart attack, it's okay though because the computer survived! I would just like to thank everyone for the love I've been receiving on my blog lately! I did not expect people to like my writing this much but I'm glad you do!

Barty was an open book, a bold soul unafraid to color outside the lines. He moved through life with a carefree swagger, unfazed by the whispers and judgments that trailed behind him like shadows. To him, rules were merely suggestions meant to be tested, and upsetting the teachers was often his unspoken goal. If his antics stirred irritation in his father, well, that was just a cherry on top of his rebellious sundae.

However, amid this façade of bravado, there was one secret he carefully guarded—you. 

You were the lone Gryffindor he could tolerate, his beacon of warmth in a sea of red and gold. In crowded hallways filled with laughing friends and bustling students, you were the only touch of scarlet he actively searched for, the only girl whose presence stirred something deeper within him. The fact that you bore the prestigious surname of Potter only complicated matters further. You had a brother protective enough to fight off any adversary for your sake, not to mention his loyal friends who would stand beside him in a heartbeat.

Barty was no coward; in fact, he was anything but. If he could, he would stride confidently through the ancient corridors of Hogwarts, your hand intertwined with his, reveling in the sense of empowerment your companionship bestowed upon him. 

But you were different; despite your Gryffindor blood, you preferred the quiet embrace of your shared feelings. The secret love that bloomed behind closed doors was a treasure you cherished, a delicate flower that thrived only in private glances and fleeting smiles. The thought of it being laid bare to the world terrified you. Everyone would know the notorious James Potter's little sister had fallen for a Slytherin, and the weight of that revelation was heavier than you could bear.

James thrived on attention; it was his lifeblood. Like a vibrant flower basking in sunlight, he reveled in the spotlight, relishing the applause and the thrill of his pranks. His outrageous flirting with Lily was like a dance, captivating all eyes in the room.

But you were not like James. You were more of an enigma—different, undefined. The thought of being under the same spotlight he basked in felt suffocating to you. You feared that with even a fraction of that attention, you would wither away, losing the essence of who you were.

It was a daily struggle for Barty to harbor this secret. Every step he took echoed with the knowledge that you were his, even if the world remained oblivious. It drove him to a simmering fury whenever he spotted others flirting with you, a rage that welled up within him but remained locked away, unexpressed and contained. His heart grappled with the bitter frustration of loving you in silence, knowing that the truth, if revealed, could unravel both your worlds.

It was a moment born of tension and unspoken words, set against the backdrop of an abandoned classroom where dust motes danced lazily in the shafts of light streaming through the cracked windows. Barty had you pinned against the cool, peeling wall, his hands gripping your hips with a possessive urgency that stole your breath away. His lips found yours, weaving a tapestry of heat and affection that left you exhilarated yet slightly bewildered.

You had merely been strolling down the corridor, laughter trailing behind you like a forgotten melody, when Barty swooped in out of nowhere, whisking you away from your friends, locking you into this intimate bubble of desire. Time felt irrelevant as his mouth devoured yours, each kiss igniting a wildfire of emotions that sent sparks racing down your spine. But as exhilaration surged through you, reality began to encroach; Potions class loomed just around the corner, and if you were late again, detention would inevitably follow—a fate you had no desire to share with James.

“Barty! Merlin, what’s gotten into you?” you managed to exclaim, breaking away for just a moment to catch your breath. The intensity in his dark eyes remained unyielding as he didn’t respond but instead trailed soft, fervent kisses down to your neck, teasing the delicate skin along your collarbone. A part of you reveled in the sensation, heart racing with exhilaration, but another part knew you had to prioritize your responsibilities.

Again, you found your voice. “Barty, I mean it! What are you doing this for?” Your question hung in the air, heavy with curiosity. Finally, he paused, lifting his head to meet your gaze, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“What? I can’t simply enjoy a moment with my girl?” he teased, his voice laced with mischief. You huffed, crossing your arms defiantly, which made his smirk falter, if only for a second. 

“Look, Precious,” he said, his tone shifting to something softer, more sincere. “I know this is out of the blue, but I can’t help but touch you after watching how that prat Gildory had his hands all over you.”

Confusion knitted your brow as you let your arms fall to your sides, a silent invitation that Barty seized without hesitation. He wrapped his arms around your waist, the embrace markedly gentler this time, resting his chin atop your shoulder. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, grounding you in this chaotic moment. “Gildory was being a nuisance, but he backed off once I told him to stop. He doesn’t get to have you like this, love; that’s my privilege,” you murmured into his ear, your breath warm against his skin, igniting a flutter of emotions in his chest.

Barty’s face lights up with a genuine smile, a rarity that replaces the confident smirk he usually wears. His voice drops to a soft whisper, filled with a mix of longing and sincerity. “I know,” he murmurs. “But it’s not the same.”

With a slight frown creasing on your forehead, you inquire, “What’s not the same?” 

He tilts his head, pressing a tender kiss against your neck, lingering there momentarily before pulling back. His gesture is both affectionate and pained as he gestures towards the closed door, a barrier that keeps the bustling crowds outside—from your fellow classmates rushing to their next classes—hidden from sight. “Being able to touch you out there,” he confesses, vulnerability tracing his words. “I think if I were able to touch you in public, I’d never let you go.”

You feel warmth spreading through your chest as you bite your lip, grappling with the tumult of emotions swirling within. You lean down to kiss the top of his tousled hair, feeling the softness beneath your lips. “I know this is a hard secret for you to keep,” you reply softly, “but it means so much to me that you’re trying. I know it isn’t fair, and I understand, but I’m not ready for everyone to know about us just yet.” 

He exhales a heavy sigh, but an understanding glint sparkles in his eyes as he nods. When he gently pulls away, you instinctively tighten your arms around his waist, determined to keep him close. “Let’s just stay like this for a few minutes, please?” you whisper, your eyes pleading, and he’s powerless to resist you.

Yet, he can’t resist a playful tease. “Ugh, you clingy little thing. I mean, I know I’m awesome, but surely I can’t be this awesome. Honestly, there has to be something seriously wrong with you to want to—”

You interrupt him with a soft kiss, feeling the warmth of his smile against your lips. “Stop spouting your nonsense and let me have this moment, won’t you?” you request, pulling back just enough for him to see the sincerity in your eyes. As he opens his mouth to retort, you silence him again with another kiss.

This time, he abandons his playful banter and pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you with an iron grip. Your head is wedged snugly between his sturdy arm and the comforting expanse of his chest, and although it’s a bit squished, you wouldn’t trade this moment for anything. “What about Potions class?” he whispers into your hair, a hint of concern lacing his tone. 

You can’t help the smile that breaks across your face, a testament to the joy bubbling within you. “I can afford to be late just this once,” you reply, mischief twinkling in your eyes. “Besides, James already has fifteen tardies and it’s only been a week back from Christmas break.”

[lucentloo]

Guys I’m not freaking out I’m NOT freaking out IM NOT FREAKING OUT

I’m freaking out

@ellecdc just liked and reblogged one of my posts!!! OMG

I’m totally fangirling right now you have no idea

[lucentloo]

updated: 05.01.25

˚☽˚.⋆ angst

Take Care (❤✧): james potter x hufflepuff!reader. (@cherry-holland)

Runaway (❅): you and james grew up together, being best friends since childhood, but after you get sorted into slytherin in your first year at hogwarts, it was only a matter of time until it all crumbled down. (@pizzapottah)

Homecoming (❅✧): it's been almost three years. can james make up for the lost time? (part two)

Loml (❅): James is the love and loss of your life. (@imthebadguyyy)

Home Is Where You Are (❤✧): James comforts you after a letter from your parents. (@uramakimochi)

Behind The Venue (❅): you discover rockstar!james is cheating on you through a fan's social media post. (@reysdriver)

Come Home & We'll Talk (❤❅): James comes home to ask you to stay with him. (part two)

Driver's License (❅): 'cause he said forever, but now you drive alone past his street. (@bobluvbot)

Ice Burn (✧): James is there for ex!reader when she has an accident on the ice. (@fourmoony)

new! Beautiful Boy (❤✧): you find James singing Harry back to sleep in the middle of the night and James apologizes for how he's been acting. (@lucentloo)

[lucentloo]

Not to get all nerdy but a little fun fact I read a while ago said that the banana flavour that we have are what bananas actually tasted like way back in the day but then they went extinct so people remade bananas (or something I don’t totally remember) and now they taste a bit different.

I don’t remember where I saw this but I just wanted to share the fun fact!

[lucentloo]

Beautiful Boy

Summary: You find James singing Harry back to sleep in the middle of the night and James apologizes for how he's been acting.

Wc: 1302

Content Warnings: Lily died, sorry folks, sad James for the tiniest bit, some swearing at the end, after the war, kissing, cuddling, apologies, making up, no real argument but implied argument, important question: Waffles or Pancakes? I think that's it, please tell me if I should put other warnings.

James Potter x Fem!reader

A/N: Good morning/night! Thank you for stopping to read this fic! This is the sixth one that I've written and I'm gonna be so honest when I say that I did not think I would be spouting this many but so far I've posted a fic every day! Anyway! I hope you enjoy and have a good rest of your day/night!

The sharp, lingering chill that seeps into your bones is the first sensation to wash over you as you rouse from sleep. Even though the blankets cocoon you in a snug embrace, a cold draft slips in, leaving your skin prickled and yearning for warmth. As your mind awakes fully, the unsettling absence of your husband, James, becomes apparent. You stretch your hand out towards his side of the bed, fingers brushing against the empty sheets, cold and untouched.

With a faint groan, you pry your eyes open, squinting at the harsh beam of light that spills in from the hallway, casting a bright glare across the dimly lit room. Rolling over, you glance at the alarm clock perched on the bedside table, its numbers illuminating the darkness. Two in the morning. 

A resigned sigh escapes your lips as you rub the sleep from your eyes, shaking off the remnants of dreams. Maybe James had been tormented by nightmares of that fateful Halloween night, or perhaps Sirius had sought refuge here again after yet another explosive quarrel with Remus. Rebuilding relationships in the wake of war is no simple task, and you and James have learned that all too well.

Reluctantly, you peel back the heavy blankets and swing your legs over the side of the bed, feeling the cool floor beneath your feet. Your gaze falls upon James' sweater draped over the chair—a cozy, familiar garment that you had insisted he wash before sleep claimed him. A soft chuckle escapes you as you slip it over your head, welcoming its warmth while allowing yourself a moment of nostalgia for simpler times.

You quietly creep out of the dimly lit hallway that leads to your and James’ room, the floorboards creaking softly beneath your feet. As you start to make your way downstairs, a beautiful melody wafts through the air, pulling you to a halt. You slowly turn around an irresistible urge guiding your feet toward Harry’s room. With each step, the tender sounds of singing grow louder, enchanting and soothing against the backdrop of the night.

Peeking through the slightly ajar door, you catch a heartwarming sight: James sits in the old rocking chair that once belonged to his mother, cradling Harry against his chest. Harry clutches his thumb in his mouth, his tiny cheeks glistening with remnants of tears that are gradually drying into faint trails of glimmering moisture. You lean against the doorframe, a soft smile blooming on your lips, your heart swelling at this serene moment.

“The monster’s gone, he’s on the run, and your Daddy’s here,” James sings in a gentle, raspy voice, the exhaustion of sleep still clinging to him. The enchantment of his lullaby lulls Harry, whose eyelids flutter and finally close in sweet surrender to slumber. You tiptoe into the room, scanning the cluttered space around you for Harry’s soother. As you find it tucked behind a plush toy, James looks up at you with a quiet, warm smile, his eyes sparkling with love and relief. 

Kneeling beside them, you plant a soft kiss on James’ forehead before gently placing the soother in Harry’s mouth, replacing his thumb with a tender precision. “Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy,” James concludes the song, his voice trailing off as Harry drifts blissfully into dreamland. 

With careful hands, you lift Harry, allowing James a moment more to rest in the chair, undoubtedly more fatigued than you. You place him gently into his crib, tucking him in snugly to ensure his pajamas are fully on—after all, there was that one morning when you awoke to find him almost choked by his sleeves, twisted and tangled in his sleep.

Glancing back, you lean down and kiss Harry’s soft cheek before you feel the familiar warmth of arms wrapping around your waist. You straighten up, turning to find James right in front of you, his face buried in your shoulder as he exhales a shuddering breath. You run your fingers through his tousled hair, feeling the tension begin to melt away.

“I’m sorry,” you hear muffled into your skin, a heartfelt confession that resonates deep within you.

With a tender smile, you’ve been anticipating this apology all night. “It’s all right, my love,” you whisper gently, enveloped in the stillness of the room. “I know you have a lot on your mind right now; it’s okay.” 

James raises his head, his weary eyes meeting yours, searching for reassurance. “Thank you for understanding,” he says softly, voice thick with emotion. “But I still shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”

You nod, taking a deep breath as your heart aches for him. “No, you shouldn’t have,” you agree, brushing a few loose strands of hair from his forehead. “But we’ll work on it together.” 

James nods silently, the weight of the night still clinging to him. You take his hand, leading him gently out of Harry’s room. He winces as the hallway light hits him, but once you both step into your darkened sanctuary, he visibly relaxes. With a youthful eagerness, he practically jumps into bed, prompting a laugh from you as you admire his vibrant spirit.

You switch off the hallway light, watching as James is enveloped in the comforting shadows of the room. After closing the door, you slip off his sweater and hang it on the chair, only to crawl back into bed. Your arms open wide, and James eagerly welcomes your embrace, his warm skin melting the chill that has settled on you.

Silence envelops you, and just as you feel yourself drifting away into sleep, James speaks softly into the stillness, “Can we have waffles tomorrow? Harry wants some.” His voice is a mere whisper, but it tickles your heart with warmth. When you chuckle, he leans in and kisses your shoulder gently, sharing the affection of the moment.

“Of course, baby, we can have waffles tomorrow. Why not invite Sirius and Remus as well? It would be delightful to see them again, and I’m sure Harry would love it.” You suggest, and as you glance down at him, you catch a glimpse of a wistful smile blooming on his face, a spark of love dancing in his eyes that hadn’t been there in days. It sends your heart soaring.

“If Remus comes over, we might have to make pancakes instead; he’s quite picky,” James comments, his tone playful yet serious. At first, you think he’s joking, but when his expression remains unchanged, you can’t help but raise an eyebrow in surprise.

“Wait, he still hasn’t gotten over that?” you ask, a laugh bubbling in your throat.

James shrugs, a teasing grin playing at the corners of his mouth. “He’s the only person I’ve seen hold a grudge for nine long years.” 

You smile at his humor, shaking your head in disbelief. “I’ll make both waffles and pancakes; how does that sound?” you reply playfully, and in response, James leans forward to kiss you.

It’s not a kiss ablaze with heat but rather one laced with tenderness and affection. His slightly chapped lips softly brush against yours for a fleeting moment before he pulls back, his smile wide and radiant. “That would be lovely, sweet girl,” he murmurs, his voice silky with warmth. “You’re such a sweet girl.” The depth of his feelings wraps around you like a cozy blanket, making you wonder just how much love resides in his enormous heart.

You chuckle, hiding your face in the soothing scent of his hair. “Shut up and go to sleep, Jamie,” you whisper, planting a gentle kiss on the top of his head. He hums contentedly, his eyes fluttering shut at the same instant as yours.

“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbles with a sleepy tone, surrendering to dreams as he drifts off into the soft embrace of slumber.

[lucentloo]

Broken Vases and Hot Chocolate

Summary: A broken vase makes you believe the brief paradise you gained at the Potters will be shattered but James helps you realize that you won't get hurt again.

James Potter x fem!reader

Wc: 1070

Content Warning: Fem!reader, Black!reader, reader is Sirius' sister, flinching, past abuse, Mrs. Potter to the rescue with her emergency hot chocolate!, Comfort, James and reader are in a relationship.

A/N: Hello guys! I am posting one fic after the other and there might be more bc I've got a lot of free time but I wouldn't expect this for the future unfortunately. I hope you're enjoying the New Year and I hope you enjoy my fifth fic on this blog! Have a good rest of your day/night and make sure to have some water!

You knew deep down that this was a mistake; your instincts screamed at you that you shouldn’t have followed Sirius when he begged you to come along. The intensity in his gaze, the way his heart ached for you to join him—along with Regulus��made it impossible to say no. With a heavy heart, you left your little brother in the care of those who had inflicted pain upon you and stepped into the unknown alongside Sirius at the Potters’ house.

Sirius was relentless in his reassurances, insisting that the Potters were kind and that you had no reason to fear them. He spoke with such conviction, claiming they would never raise a finger against you, but as the shards of glass glistened ominously at your feet, doubt clouded your mind.

You had been playing a spirited game of pass with James, the vibrant quaffle soaring back and forth between you, laughter escaping your lips like music on the warm afternoon breeze. But in an unfortunate moment, the ball slipped through your fingers, crashing into one of Mrs. Potter’s beautiful vases. The sound was deafening, a shatter so loud it seemed to echo through the air, alerting not only James but likely every neighbor on the block. In that instant, the blissful atmosphere transformed into one of panic, leaving you with the weight of uncertainty and dread.

James muttered a string of curses under his breath, his frustration palpable in the air. You flinched at the disturbance it caused, instinctively dropping to your knees to swiftly clean up the mess sprawled across the floor. The cool surface pressed against your skin as you worked, your heart racing. Sirius had mentioned that the Potters were generally more forgiving than others, so perhaps if you hurried, you could erase the evidence of your mistake before they noticed. You hoped that your diligence would spare you from their displeasure.

“Woah! Hey, what are you doing?” James asks as he watches the glass dig into your knees as you clean it up with uncovered hands.

“I’m cleaning,” you responded in what you hoped was a collected voice but knew that there were some cracks in there.

James quickly put on his deer slippers Sirius gave him for Christmas and stepped over the glass to stop your hands. “Sweet thing, you don’t have to do that, it was my fault the throw was too hard, come on.” He says gently as he brushes off the few small flakes of glass off your palm.

‘But I didn’t catch it. If you just let me clean it up then there would be less trouble and-”

You were cut off by James who put his on your waist and hoisted you up like you weighed nothing. He carried you over to the couch and set you down gently. “There is no trouble, just a knocked-down vase. Sure I might get in trouble with my mom but it was a vase given to her by my grandma, and honestly? My mom's been complaining about it for years.”

The only thing you managed to get from that was the fact that James might get in trouble with his mom. You thought Sirius said that the Potters weren’t as bad as your guys’ parents.

When James went to leave you grabbed his hands tight. Anxiety courses through you as the image of Hogwarts golden boy getting hurt flashes through your mind. That’s not right, he’s too good to be hurt like that. “Tell them it was me, that it was my fault.” Your words are desperate and pleading and James’ eyebrows furrow in concern when he starts to realize what this is all about.

“It’s fine, it was my fault and I’m fine with taking the blame.”

“But I don’t want you to get-”

“Nobody’s gonna get hurt,” James says with conviction. He raises his hand and slowly places it on your cheek. When he wipes away your tears you finally realize how much you were crying and shaking. You sniffle and try to hide your face in embarrassment but James wouldn’t let you.

“No matter what happens here, what you or anybody else does, no one will get hurt. I promise.” He says the last two words a bit softer as his hand travels from your cheek to the back of your neck so he can move your head to his chest.

You let him as you slump against him. You start crying even more and he doesn’t move or give any indication of how uncomfortable he is while crouching. “That’s it, just let it out. No one’s gonna hurt you anymore.”

You hear the door open and hear the silence that follows. You try to move out of James' hold, and he lets you, but he keeps his hand on your back while he looks at his parents. Sirius gives you a concerned look but you look down in your lap.

“What happened, dear?” You look up as Mrs. Potter comes over to the two of you. You choke up before you answer and look over to the corner of the living room instead. When she follows your line of sight she relaxes and sighs. “Oh James, again?”

You look over to James who has now moved to help his dad and Sirius with the groceries. He wears a shit-eating grin as he shrugs. “That boy.” Mrs. Potter says and to your surprise laughs while shaking her head. With a single wave of her wand, the mess is cleared and your injuries are healed as she places her hand on your back as she stands up.

You both make your way to the kitchen. “Do you like hot chocolate? I say it’s a must in the holidays.” With that, your usual smile comes back and you nod. You make your way to where James and Sirius are talking by the counter.

“Thank you, James, for dealing with my mini freak out.” You say quietly as Sirius pulls you into his side.

James just smiles fondly. “How many times have I told you, sweetheart, it’s not dealing with you, it’s loving you. Two different things.” He kisses your head and squeezes your hand before going to help his mom with the hot chocolate.

“I still think it’s disgusting that he’s dating you.”

You laugh and nudge Sirius's side. “Sirius!”

He shrugs his shoulders and holds you closer. “Just saying.”

You smile warmly and lean in more, knowing you could use a few minutes of just hugging.

[lucentloo]

Your Pink Dress

Summary: Your daughter seems determined to get Spencer to wear Pink before dinner

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

wc: 1047

Content Warnings: Fem!reader, girl dad Spencer, fluff, fluffiest fluff i've ever written, no angst, idk man spencer doesn't own pink

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry it's been so long but I did warn you that my updates are EXTREMELY slow. I hope you like this fluff and I hope you had/have a happy New Year!

“Okay, Daddy, I specifically told you that you had to wear pink!” your daughter's voice rings out from the kitchen, laced with playful exasperation. A fond smile tugs at your lips as you recall similar moments from your own childhood, the slight mischief and determination mirroring your past with your father. It’s a nostalgia you’d never openly confess, but it warms your heart all the same.

“And Daddy told you he didn’t own any pink clothing,” Spencer responds, his tone light yet teasing as he stands, likely with arms crossed, trying to maintain a semblance of authority amidst the playful banter. You can hear the soft clatter of pots and pans in the background as you continue stirring the rich, simmering sauce for the spaghetti, the aroma filling the air.

“Mommy has some!” your daughter retorts defiantly, her little voice ringing with conviction. The image of Spencer donning one of your vibrant pink dresses, saved for those fun girls' nights out with Penelope, flashes through your mind, and you can’t help but stifle a snort of laughter. You envision him twirling in the fabric, the contrast of his serious demeanor against the playful dress, and the thought makes your heart swell with affection for both of them.

Spencer lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping as he crouches down in front of your daughter, the weight of his defeat palpable in the air. “Mommy does have some, doesn’t she?” he asks, his voice tinged with a playful resignation. Without warning, he shrugs, a spark of mischief igniting in his eyes. In one swift motion, he lifts your daughter effortlessly onto his shoulder and dashes up the stairs, her delighted squeals echoing in the hall.

You chuckle softly, the warmth of their playful antics filling your heart. But as the realization strikes you of where they might be headed, a sense of urgency washes over you. Abandoning the bubbling sauce, you quickly turn off the oven, the aroma fading as you dart up the stairs, determination propelling you forward.

Upon reaching the top, you plant yourself in the doorway, hands firmly placed on your hips. You observe, amused, as your daughter stretches her tiny arms toward your dress, her face a mask of innocent mischief. “Don’t you take one more step,” you say, adopting a tone that is playful yet mockingly strict.

Time seems to freeze for a moment. Both Spencer and your daughter share a knowing glance, caught in the act of their playful scheming. Your daughter then effortlessly transforms the tension in the room with her cherubic smile, her big, precious eyes sparkling with a sweetness that could soften even the sternest of hearts.

You visibly soften at the expression on her face, a delicate mix of innocence and mischief, but you don’t succumb to the playful charm. Shaking your head in exaggerated disappointment, you say, “I can't believe you would do such a thing to me. Let Daddy wear my dress? Diabolical.”

Her eyes widen, and she turns to Spencer, her little brows furrowing in curiosity. “What does diabolical mean?” she asks, her voice a breathy whisper, the word rolling clumsily off her tongue.

Spencer, ever the patient and understanding father, easily smiles as he lifts your daughter effortlessly into his arms. “It means bad or unpleasant, sweetheart. Like when Mr. Ruffles accidentally knocked over Floppy’s tea the other day. That was diabolical.”

She hums thoughtfully, resting her head against Spencer's shoulder, totally enveloped by the warmth of his affection. “Diobilical,” she tries again, getting lost in the sound of the word.

“Close, honey. You’re just missing the O,” Spencer gently corrects, making sure to emphasize that crucial vowel, his charming smile inviting her to try once more.

Your daughter ponders this, furrowing her tiny brow in concentration, but all you can do is watch the way Spencer holds her, the love radiating from him like sunlight on a summer day. It hits you like a wave—this overwhelming, unexplainable love that goes beyond words. You love him more than the entire universe combined, and in that moment, you feel assured that you chose the right person to marry, a partner who overflowed with warmth and kindness.

And yes, it does mean that you were the one to propose to him, an inversion of the traditional role that only made your bond stronger.

You’re drawn back to the present when your daughter softly tugs at the sleeve of your sweater, her bright eyes shining with urgency. “Is supper ready yet? My tummy is rumbling and grumbling, and it doesn’t have any nice things to say.”

A chuckle escapes your lips as you nod enthusiastically. “Everything is ready, baby. You just need Dad to help you dish up the food, okay?”

Her eyes widen with delight, and she squirms out of Spencer’s hold like a spring released from tension. “Daddy, hurry! I’m gonna die of starvation!” she calls dramatically, her little feet already racing toward the stairs.

“Die of starvation?” Spencer repeats incredulously, a quirked eyebrow teasing the edge of his amusement as he looks at you.

You try to hide your smile, the corners of your lips tugging upwards despite your efforts. “She might have heard me complain a few times,” you admit, a playful grin now illuminating your face.

Spencer chuckles, shaking his head with mock exasperation. “My vocabulary lessons are gonna stop working if you keep feeding her these phrases!”

You merely shrug, completely unbothered, your laughter ringing out like music in the home you share. Spencer’s smile softens tenderly, and he wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as warmth spreads between the two of you. “I guess we better go feed her before she starves,” he says, his voice laced with a mix of humor and genuine affection.

As you make your way down the stairs, you arrive just in time to witness your daughter dramatically “dying” on the floor, her body collapsing as if she were in the throes of a grand theatrical performance. It’s a sight that would make anyone smile, a reminder of the joy and laughter that fills your home, and you can’t help but share a knowing glance with Spencer, both of you silently promising to cherish these moments forever.

[lucentloo]

First Kiss

Summary: You’ve never truly thought the perfect first kissed existed after a drunken one night stand had stolen every innocence you have ever had, but Remus is here to prove what a first kiss should really be like.

Remus Lupin x Fem!reader

Wc: 1143

Content Warnings: Modern au, fem!reader, swearing, drunk sex (in the past, only mentioned not described fully), kissing, pinning, friends to lovers, Sirius and James are supportive, Lily as best friend, Peter here but not here, low standards, if I’ve missed any please let me know!

a/n: Hello lovely’s! This is Fic number three now and I can’t say my writings getting better but the more you interact the more confidence I get! I’m sorry it’s been a long time since my last Fic but life’s been hectic and I’m a slow writer so that’s on me. Either way I hope you enjoy this little Remus story today and have a wonderful weekend/week! Also not proof read so sorry for any mistakes!

When you were little you would imagine your first kiss as magical and romantic, something you would remember forever. Instead your innocence was tainted by a drunken night full of affectionless touches and meaningless words. Little you thought a prince would sweep you off your feet and steal the air from your lungs. And although the air was taken from you that night, it wasn’t quite as enjoyable as you thought.

After that one night you stopped expecting the love you read in your books or the touches you saw in the movies. Every relationship you indulged in only reinforced the obnoxiously low standards you had set for yourself. Your friends, more specifically Lily, encouraged you to find better men, to set a better standard, but you refused. You didn’t think you could find any better than you already have.

That was until you met Remus.

Him and his friends had opened a music store right next to your bookstore, and that helped boost both of your stores' activity. The boys invited you out to coffee to kinda get to know each other a bit more and you were immediately besotted with Remus. His calm nature, chocolate eyes, and even the scar on his upper lip that he got from a guy named Sniffilous, though you don't believe that that was his actual name. Remus was effortlessly kind and brilliant and knew when a joke had gone too far. He was unlike any guy you’ve met. 

You started hanging out with him more often than the rest of your friends and got extremely close. Close enough that people have begun to speculate that there was something more brewing between us. You desperately want there to be. Every time his hand grazes yours and when he whispers a joke in your ears so that only you can hear, you feel special. Like you’re worth something more than a quick fuck.

One Saturday when you were hanging out with Remus at your bookstore you asked him what his most embarrassing story was, just out of curiosity. 

Remus was fiddling with a pen when he answered. “I believe my most embarrassing story was when I believed a story my mother once told me all the way until I was fourteen.” He says quietly, not trying to break the comfortable silence around us. 

You lean forwards on your elbows that were situated on your desk. You were previously rifling through documents and files trying to find the book you were missing. “What was the story?” You ask, genuinely intrigued.

Remus hummed and rose to stand next to me and sit on my desk. “My mother once believed that there was a magical world, full of wizards and witches, and they had a whole society. She made me believe that one day I would get accepted into a school for the young witches and wizards and that I would learn every spell in the book. I only stopped believing that when I thought a teacher was a disguised troll and I got sent home. I still cringe thinking about those ten years of my life.” When Remus finishes with the story he scrunches his perfectly adorable nose so cutely that you give a little giggle. 

“Now you.” Remus gestures to me with his head.

“Me?” You ask confused.  

“Yeah, you,” He says again, “what’s your most embarrassing story?” He asks it in such an innocently mischievous way that you can’t help but chuckle and think about it. 

“I think my most embarrassing story would be my first kiss.” You blush as you answer, immediately regretting even mentioning it. However, you see the curiosity in his eyes and continue. “I was drunk and some guy who I was talking to that night brought me back to his apartment. I don’t think I have to say much more than that.” You are hard core blushing now and look back at your files. 

Remus however is looking your way with a furrowed brow and downturned lips. He hops off the desk and stands in front of you. “You're telling me that your first kiss was a drunken one night stand? That’s it?” He asks. You nod hesitantly, wondering why he looks so distraught.

“Oh baby,” He said softly and you felt your heart pick up its pace, his proximity suddenly making your knees weak. “That does not count as a first kiss.”

You look up  into his eyes that now burn with a small desire and start protesting. “But a first kiss is when you have your kiss for the first time, and I did. That counts as my first kiss-” Your cut off by soft lips gently pushing against yours. Your eyes widen in shock before a steady hand cups your cheek and you melt into the kiss. It wasn’t a quick in and out but it also wasn’t a long, heavy makeout sesh. Just a soft kiss on the lips and Remus was pulling away.

“That is a first kiss. It’s loving and soft and it was one you were fully aware of.” Remus cups the back of your neck and pulls it forwards to rest our foreheads together. “Your first kiss isn;t your first kiss until you say it is.” Remus speaks so softly you almost couldn’t hear him.

You smile slightly and lean in close again, your lips making contact with his once more. This time it goes on a little longer to the point where you grip his shoulders begging for more, noises escape your lips without your permission, and when you’re finally finished you pull away gasping for air. 

Remus has a beautiful smile on his face as he looks at you. He bends his head down enough to whisper in your ear. “I really like kissing you.” You giggle and bury your face into his chest. In the distance you hear cheers and clapping and as you lift your face you see two of Remus’ close friends, James and Sirius, appearing from behind the bookcases. Your cheeks burn a deep red as you hide your face into Remus’ chest once again. 

“How long have you two been here?” Remus asks with a small sigh.

Sirius laughs and pats him on the back. “Just long enough to see the show Moons, and quite the show it was!” He teases. James elbows him in the ribs but his smile is a carbon copy of Sirius’.

As the boys divulge into endless bickering and attempt  to embarrass your poor Remus even more, you bury yourself fully into his arms. You wonder what this will mean for the future. For your relationship, and although in any other scenario you would have been nervous all you can feel is excitement. 

You thought that this would be a very good first kiss to remember.

[lucentloo]

Poly!Rosekiller

Nothing yet but some soon to come!

Barty Crouch

Behind Closed Doors: (Barty steals you between classes to make up for the time he lost.)

Evan Rosier

Nothing yet! Sorry!

[lucentloo]

Poly!Moonwater Masterlist

Nothing yet but some coming soon!

Regulus Black

My Sun, My Moon, My Stars : (You and Regulus get some alone time during a Slytherin party but get interrupted. Barty needs to learn his manners.)

[lucentloo]

Poly!Marauders Masterlist

Nothing yet but some soon to come!

[lucentloo]

Remus Lupin Masterlist!

First Kiss: Reader stopped believing in romantic men a long time ago, until she met Remus, and he showed her how a true first kiss should be.

[lucentloo]

James Potter Masterlist!

Broken Vases And Hot Chocolate: (A broken vase makes you believe the brief paradise you gained at the Potters will be shattered but James helps you realize that you won't get hurt again.)